Chapter 73 - The Eyes of the World, Redux
The Eyes of the World Redux
Terra opened the door. She obstructed a lot of the doorway, so from the living room, Saphron found it easier to see the dog outside than the person holding their lead, but it was a very recognizable dog, and so Saphron could guess who was on the other side of their door even before she heard Terra speak.
"Dad?"
"Mornin', luv," cried Cable Cotta cheerily, in that slightly lilting accent that he had. "I told your mother I was taking Snowy here for a walk—"
Snowy barked loudly, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
"And I thought that I'd stop by here and see if there was any chance of a brew."
Terra had laughter in her voice as she stepped out of the way of the door. "Sure thing. Come on in, Dad."
"Ta, pet," Cable said, as Snowy bounded in through the doorway, dragging his master on the leash behind him. Cable spotted Saphron in the living room and waved with his free hand. "How do, Saffy?"
Saphron, sat cross-legged on the floor with Adrian in front of her, waved back to him. "Morning, Cab!" She hunched down a little bit. "Look, Adrian, it's your grandpa!"
Adrian looked up from his crayon drawing, his eyes widening, his mouth forming a smile as a cry of delight leapt from his lips. "Doggie!"
Snowy barked twice, pulling away, wrenching the lead out of Cable's hands as he bounded down the hall and into the living room, closing the distance to Adrian in a second. He licked Adrian's cheek and head, nuzzling him with his nose like the baby was a pup of his as Adrian laughed with joy, groping for Snowy's muzzle with his eager hands.
"I know who he's happier to see," Cable observed as he ambled in after the dog, chuckling to show that he didn't take it personally.
Terra followed her father into the living room; she put one hand upon his shoulder as she stood on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "Well, Dad," she observed, "Snowy's face is a little softer on the skin."
Cable smiled wryly as he rubbed his stubbled chin with one hand. "Aye, well, that's true enough, I suppose."
Cable Cotta was a tall man, late middle-aged, with dark skin that was starting to wrinkle with the same years that were turning the stubble on his cheeks to grey. He had the same brown eyes as his daughter, although there were a few more lines around his than hers. A light grey flat cap covered the top of his head, hiding the lack of hair beneath, while he wore a dark grey scarf around his neck, wrapped tight and disappearing into the long camelhair coat in which he was swathed. As he stood in the living room, he pulled off a pair of suede gloves and shoved them into one of his coat pockets.
"While I'm here," he said, "Rudolph called last night, now that he and Button have inherited that big pile out in the country; he's thinking about inviting us all to go down there and celebrate Winter Solstice with them."
"A little bit early to be thinking about that, don't you think?" asked Terra.
"It's fall already," Cable reminded her. "It'll be here before you know it. I think he wants to get in quick before anyone else makes plans."
"That, and he wants to show that he can do it," Terra suggested.
"Is it safe?" Saphron asked. "I mean, an old Mistralian estate with lots of land and no neighbours … at least in the city, you can be pretty sure that that sound you hear outside isn't a grimm."
"Rudolph says the grimm don't trouble them out there," Cable said. "It's like the place is protected somehow. Lucky for them, and lucky for me too, or else I don't know if I'd sleep at night."
"Well, okay," Saphron said. "We've got time to think about it, right?"
"Sure we have," Terra assured her. "So, Dad, why did you lie to Mom about where you were going?"
"I could hardly tell her that I needed to get out of the house and stay out for a bit, could I?" asked Cable. "But between you and me, luv, I needed to get out of that house: your mother's gone mad with all this tournament malarkey, absolutely mad for Mistral; I couldn't stand it any longer."
Terra smirked as she folded her arms across her chest. "You do know that we're supporting Pyrrha, right?"
"Yes, I know, she's your brother-in-law's girlfriend — and you should be thankful that I haven't mentioned that to your mother yet — and I'll admit that she's a talented lass, but I knew comin' round here that you wouldn't be as bad as it is 'round ours. She's been playing that song all hours, for a start. Thirty years of hurt? Feels more like thirty years of damage to my ears from listening to that damn song."
Saphron covered Adrian's ears. "Cable! Not in front of the baby!"
"Oh, don't fuss; there's nothing to worry about," Cable said, starting to unbutton his coat as he flopped down onto the sofa.
"Da!" Adrian cried.
Terra arched one eyebrow in her father's direction.
"That was because of you calling me 'Dad,' not because of anything I said," Cable insisted. He paused, shifting his weight on the settee. "Speaking of Pyrrha Nikos, that was her teammate, wasn't it? The one who fought with her yesterday when they beat those nice Atlas girls? It's her, the one they're talking about now on the news."
"Sunset Shimmer, yeah," Saphron said, her voice becoming a little more muted. She and Terra had woken to the news from Vale, both the good news that Jaune and Pyrrha and their team had captured a wanted criminal — go Jaune! Sure, the news had barely deigned to mention him and almost made it seem like Pyrrha had done it all single-handed, but still, go Jaune! And go Pyrrha too, obviously — and the not so good news that Jaune's teammate had been accused of causing a massive grimm attack on Vale. "Yeah, that's her. Honestly … I don't know; I can't believe what they're saying. We met her, Terra and I, when we went to see my family for my Dad's birthday; she came up too for a couple of days … she didn't seem the type."
"Isn't that what they always say?" asked Cable. "She seemed so nice, she seemed so normal; maybe she kept herself to herself—"
"Dad, you need to stop listening to those true crime towercasts," said Terra. "They're ghoulish, and they skew the way you see things."
"You think they're lying?" asked Cable.
"Come on, Dad, I know you aren't Mistralian, but you've been married to Mom long enough to know how this works," Terra said. "Slander—"
"When it's written down, it's libel," murmured Saphron.
"Either way, it's lies and deceit, and it's as much part of the tournament circuit as promotions or interviews or the fights themselves. It wasn't long ago when Metella was making her run, and there were all those 'sources' accusing her of being White Fang. Or how, about a couple of years ago, there were stories linking Arslan Altan to a couple of unsolved muggings in Mistral? Not to mention that stuff about Pyrrha and the girl they just took down last night. It was all anonymous, all unfounded, all just the same as it is here. It's all … someone's jealous, and they want to take her down a peg, that's all; it's not worth wasting time thinking about." She paused. "Although I will say that accusing someone of causing a grimm attack is certainly a new and more imaginative accusation to throw around."
"Maybe you're right, luv," Cable admitted. "There does seem to be a lot of this. Who'd be a celebrity, eh?" He looked at Saphron. "Have you talked to your brother about all this?"
"What would be the point?' asked Terra.
"No," Saphron replied. "I don't want to bother Jaune about this, especially not today. I want to congratulate him about last night, but I guess that can wait too. The only thing he should be focussed on today is cheering Pyrrha on in the tournament."
XxXxX
"I don't believe it," Leaf declared, folding her arms. "It's all a bunch of crap."
"You're sure about that?" asked Veil.
"Yes!" Leaf cried. "Yes, I'm sure about that, because … because she's my friend. And also way too much of a stick in the mud to do something like that. She didn't think it was a good idea for me to run away without speaking to my mother—"
"Well, that was kind of a—" Veil began.
Leaf didn't let her finish. "You think that she'd try and destroy Vale?"
"According to what they're saying," Veil murmured, "she wasn't trying to destroy Vale; she was trying to save her friends."
"What they're saying," Leaf insisted, "is a lie."
"So you believe what this Skystar Aris is trying to sell now?" asked Veil. "That she wrote an email accusing her own mother of covering up something like that to get back at Sunset for causing her to break up with her boyfriend?"
Leaf shrugged. "Makes sense to me."
"Hmm," Veil murmured. "No comment on that, but to me … it feels like an excuse."
"Then you're wrong," Leaf said flatly. "Sunset … she wouldn't do something like this."
"You met her once; it's not like you know her that well," Veil pointed out.
"I still don't believe it," Leaf said. "If they arrest her, if they find her guilty, then maybe, maybe I'll believe it, but now … I'm not going to just change what I think about someone I like just because the news told me to."
XxXxX
Doctor Diggory had been brought up, many years ago now when he had been as young as Miss Pole and Mister Scrub, to respect authority, to trust in those who had been chosen — whether by election or by more esoteric processes of appointment — to lead Vale and its institutions. He had been brought up to believe that, though such figures might sometimes make minor mistakes, they had the kingdom's best interests at heart and that they got it right far more often than not.
Such youthful naïveté had not survived the maelstrom that was Mountain Glenn. What he had witnessed there, in the founding of the city, in the fighting for it, in all that had followed that tremendous loss … he had not been so young, even then, but he had felt young when he had gone to fight at Mountain Glenn, in ways that he had not felt afterwards. During the attempt to found, to expand, to hold, and finally, to evacuate that doomed endeavour he had witnessed hubris, blindness — partly wilful blindness, which was worse — towards what was going on outside the city limits, stubbornness, deception, and finally, when the battle was done, he had witnessed a cover-up. The Winchester Inquiry into the failings that had led to the fall of Mountain Glenn had used so much whitewash that it could have re-painted Beacon, possibly more than once.
Everyone of note had been exonerated of responsibility; nobody, the report said, could have predicted what had happened at Mountain Glenn, even though Diggory remembered the gradual realisation dawning on them that the grimm attacks were not reducing in scale and number over time, as had been confidently asserted that they would as the grimm recognised Mountain Glenn as human territory; not to mention the fact that it had been fairly obvious that if the grimm attacks continued at that scale or greater, then they couldn't maintain the perimeter indefinitely — fairly obvious at least a fortnight before the levee finally broke. And yet, despite all of that, the authorities in Vale had continued to advertise Mountain Glenn as a desirable destination, continued to send new colonists out there, continued work on the city.
Failed to evacuate until it was too late and retreat underground was the only option for most.
And then those same authorities had walked away, escaping all blame.
It was safe to say that the scales had fallen from Doctor Diggory's eyes somewhat as a result of all that. He was no longer so quick to trust what he was being told just because he was being told so by a person in authority.
And so, the fact that First Councillor Aspen was standing in front of the cameras, fervently denying everything, breathing out fiery invective against the press while he did so … it moved Diggory very little.
Not that the press were much better, of course; after Mountain Glenn, they had hacked the devices of the survivors — himself included — in the hopes of digging up stories about the fall and the battle, not to mention listening in on private — sometimes traumatic — conversations. It made him shudder a little just to recall it.
But the press weren't the ones currently denying that there was any truth to the accusations made against Councillor Emerald, Former Councillor Aris … and Miss Shimmer.
Of the three of them, Miss Shimmer was the one that Doctor Diggory would have most liked to believe was innocent in all of this. She had, after all, saved Miss Pole's life, and Mister Scrub also; she and her friends had been, it was safe to say, very impressive when they had been here.
But one could be very impressive one moment and do something terrible the next, and if the reports were true, if she had done that unspeakable thing in order to save her friends, well…
Unspeakable, yes, but at the same time … well, that was a test that Doctor Diggory was glad he had not faced when he had been in Mountain Glenn.
He did not wish to think evil on Miss Shimmer, it brought him no pleasure, but at the same time … those denials by Councillor Emerald, those vociferous denials, those aggressive responses.
He had seen too many politicians lie in connection with Mountain Glenn. No doubt, Councillor Emerald would get away with it, the same way that they had all gotten away with it — no, some of them having to resign did not count; some of them ought to have gone to prison for what they'd done — the last time.
But that didn't mean that Doctor Diggory believed it.
A sigh passed between his wrinkled lips.
"Is everything alright, Doctor?"
Doctor Diggory blinked, recalled from his thoughts by the voice of Miss Pole, standing in the doorway.
He found himself very glad that she and Mister Scrub were too young to take much of an interest in the news; it would be a terrible thing to think that the young huntress who had saved them both was…
A villain? A traitor? A servant of a crooked Council?
Someone who had chosen poorly?
Doctor Diggory forced himself to smile as he got up from behind his desk. "I'm fine, my dear, perfectly fine. Is there something you wanted?"
Miss Pole shook her head. "Mrs. Macready sent me to fetch you, she said breakfast's ready."
"Ah! Well, I wouldn't want to keep Mrs. Macready's kippers waiting," Doctor Diggory declared, forcing a bonhomie into his voice that he did not quite feel.
As he followed Miss Pole out of the study, he found himself wishing that he, too, had possessed no interest in the news.
XxXxX
Mallard shuffled in the seat of the van next to Martinez. Her eyes were fixed on the gates to the power plant, but she could feel him moving next to her, hear him scratching against the seat.
"Uncomfortable?" Martinez asked him.
"Sorry, El-Tee," he said. "My coat was just sticking into the small of my back, that's all."
The two of them were sat in the front of what appeared, to the untrained eye, to be a maintenance van, parked outside the Gateshead power station. They were outside the actual gates, watching the metal bars that kept out intruders, while there were another four undercover vehicles parked at various places around the perimeter and tactical units and airships on stand-by if necessary.
Martinez didn't know exactly what her superiors thought might be necessary; that hadn't been part of the mission briefing. The only thing that the captain had told her was that orders had come down from the top: guard infrastructure. Apparently, it was such a high priority that they were roping in officers from all departments: Flying Squad, Special Victims, Homicide, they'd all been roped in alongside precinct detectives and uniforms — there were a couple of black and white squad cars parked on either side of the station gates, as a more visible sign of police presence than Martinez and Mallard in their maintenance van.
Someone with a lot of pull had made this happen, and that someone was obviously worried about something; they just weren't telling cops like Martinez what they were worried about. The White Fang? That was the obvious answer, but at the same time, an unsatisfactory one: the White Fang had been pretty quiet ever since the Breach; they hadn't heard so much as a peep out of them. Martinez hadn't heard any whispers about any future attacks, and while that didn't mean that there weren't any attacks being planned, it was odd that it should come out of nowhere like this.
While the Breach might have come as a surprise, the White Fang had been building up to something all year up to then; they just hadn't been sure what they were building up to.
But if not the White Fang, then who? Who else had the resources to require this much security? Honestly, Martinez wasn't sure the White Fang had the muscle to require this much security, but they came the closest that she could think of. Nobody else … there was some more noise being made about grimm cultists these days, what with that Cinder chick and all, but honestly, in Martinez's experience, most grimm cultists were idiots who hadn't grown out of that school phase where you thought black capes and chokers were cool — Mike had some truly execrable pictures of her on his scroll from back then that he was forever threatening to show to the kids — while the few that were actually dangerous were too few and too disorganised — not to mention too socially isolated — to carry out large scale acts of terrorism.
Although she could be wrong about that; Martinez wasn't wedded to the idea that she was always right.
But it would come out of nowhere for them to be able to pull off something this big, requiring this much force to counter them.
The White Fang was a more likely possibility, but still … didn't feel right.
Her gut told her that there was a lot that she — that all of them — weren't being let in on.
She didn't like that. There wasn't much that she could do about it right now, but she didn't like it.
"Hey, Lieutenant," Mallard said, "can I ask you something?"
"Sure," Martinez said, not looking away from the gate. She took a sip of her coffee; the flask was keeping it nice and warm for her: it singed her tongue just the way she liked it.
"What do you think about this thing with that Beacon student?" Mallard asked. "The thing with the Breach and all, and the Council."
"I think it's very convenient," Martinez said.
There was a pause. "How do you mean?" asked Mallard.
Martinez hesitated for a second. "About a year ago, just before you joined the Flying Squad, my two boys were kidnapped."
"Gods," Mallard murmured. "What…? I mean, they're okay now, right?"
"Yeah," Martinez said. "Yeah, they're fine. They … they barely remember it. They weren't even that badly treated, thank god."
She, on the other hand, would never forget. Never forget the way her hands had trembled when she opened the box when it came in the mail, never forget the relief when there was only a shoe inside, mingled with the anxiety that came with it being a shoe she recognised. Never forget the smug voice on the other end of the scroll. Never forget the way that she had hugged them both when she broke down the door in that nice, quiet, ordinary-looking suburban house where they'd stashed the boys.
Never forget the blood on her knuckles or the way he'd mewled in pain as she beat him to a pulp on the elevator ride down to the ground.
"What happened?"
"I'd got word of a heist that would be going down soon," Martinez explained. "Details were scarce, only that it would involve precious stones. I was asking around, trying to dig up what I could … and they took my sons, picked them up on their way to school, sent me Tyler's shoe in a box, to prove to me that they had them. Told me to back off, no more snooping around."
"Did you?" Mallard asked. "Back off, I mean."
"No, of course not," Martinez said. "Especially not after Featherston was assigned to find my kids."
"Who?"
"Lieutenant Featherston, Missing Persons," Martinez said. "Useless, lazy ass, he couldn't cut it in the Flying Squad, so he transferred into Missing Persons for an easy life. I knew he wasn't going to find the boys, so I'd have to do it myself." She paused. "But the point is, the irony is, that when they took the boys, I was nowhere near them. I had no leads, no suspects, I didn't even know the exact target; I was fumbling around in the dark. But when they took the kids, that told me something."
"That you'd got close enough to spook them, even if you didn't realise it," Mallard said.
"Precisely," said Martinez. "This allegation, this Sunset Shimmer stuff, this … this is Tyler's shoe in a box. Someone has gotten close, probably because of the capture of that Cinder Fall, and someone else has gotten spooked by that, so they're trying to cause a distraction.
"The question isn't whether or not Sunset Shimmer did anything, almost certainly not, it's like Skystar Aris said—"
"You believe that she wrote that email for revenge?"
"I think teenage girls can be petty and stupid," Martinez told him. "I was a teenage girl once, and I was petty and stupid sometimes. The real question is, if we're all meant to be looking at Sunset Shimmer, what are we not supposed to be looking at?"
XxXxX
Camilla sat down at the island in the centre of the kitchen. "Have you heard this news from Vale, my lord?"
Juturna looked up from her porridge. "'News from Vale'?"
"You may have to be more specific," Turnus said as he, too, sat down at the island.
"Why?" asked Juturna. "What happened?"
"Pyrrha Nikos won a victory last night, outside the Colosseum," Camilla explained. "Cinder Fall was vanquished and taken into custody."
"Really?" Juturna muttered. "Good for Pyrrha. Did she do it by herself, or—?"
"It was said that her teammates made some small contributions," Camilla replied.
"Which means they did a lot, but of course they won't get the credit because perfect Pyrrha has to be the hero."
"You are showing a somewhat unpleasant side to your nature this morning," Camilla said softly.
"I would like my friend Ruby to get some of the credit for her own accomplishments," Juturna said. "Is that so wrong? Is that wrong at all? No, no, it isn't." She paused. "Mind you, Ruby probably won't care who gets the credit. 'As long as we did the right thing, and a bad guy is off the streets, I'm satisfied.' She's so … Valish that way. You know, weird."
"In Atlas, they say that we Mistralians are the strange ones," Turnus observed. "No doubt, it is the same in Vale."
"Maybe they do, but they're wrong," said Juturna. "We're Mistral; we're normal. We are the benchmark. It's everyone else who's being odd about stuff. Still, it's good news for Ruby. And Pyrrha, I suppose. For all of them."
"The other news was less good," Turnus said. "Their team leader, Lady Nikos' favourite, has been accused of causing the Breach in Vale's defences."
Juturna's eyebrows rose. "Wow," she said. "I did not see that coming." She sipped from a glass of grapefruit juice. "That is going to kill Ruby. I think."
"You think?" Camilla said.
"We're talking about Sunset Shimmer, right?" Juturna said.
"That was the name, yes," said Turnus.
"Mmm," Juturna murmured. "You see … it got really hard to say whether Ruby liked her or hated her. Or both, maybe, but … either Ruby will be heartbroken, or she'll be overjoyed and vindicated. Hopefully, it's the second one, but it could be the first."
"Or both, perhaps," Turnus observed.
Juturna snorted. "Yeah, or both, I guess."
"Or neither," Camilla suggested. "The accusation may be false."
"It may?" asked Juturna. "You mean it isn't true?"
"If it were true, I wouldn't have said that it may be false."
Juturna rolled her eyes. "Then why does it matter? Has she been arrested?"
"The Valish Council — or at least its leader — is denying the truth of it," said Turnus.
"So it's a nothing?" Juturna asked. "It's just … something somebody said to … to what? To make her look bad?"
"According to the girl who wrote the message that was released to prompt the accusation—"
"The what now?"
"Someone wrote an email, then deleted it, but the deleted email was found and released to the public," Turnus explained.
Juturna's eyes widened. "That's possible?"
Turnus raised one eyebrow.
"I am not worried about myself, obviously," Juturna said, primping at her hair with one hand. "I am … concerned on behalf of other people, like the very thoughtful and considerate girl that I am."
"Hmm," Turnus muttered. "Yes, it is possible. So be careful about what you write, even if you don't send it." He paused. "In any event, the girl who wrote this deleted message says that she did it to get back at Sunset for an injury done to her love life."
"By accusing her of causing a grimm attack on Vale?" Juturna cried. "That is … wow, that is so petty that it's kind of epic. I mean, talk about out of proportion; who is this girl, she sounds awesome?"
"I found her story a little implausible," Camilla observed.
"Really? I can believe it," said Juturna.
"Hmmm," murmured Camilla.
"Okay," Juturna said, pointing at the both of them. "You have both got to some hmmming at me like that; I am feeling very judged."
"I'm sorry," Camilla said softly. "I just … would you really do something like that?"
"Me? No," Juturna said. "But that doesn't mean I can't admire someone who has the guts to."
"Except she didn't," Turnus pointed out. "She didn't send the email."
"Oh, yeah, right, the deleted thing," Juturna said. "Okay, I guess that lowers my respect for her a little bit. She's just like me, thinking about doing stuff that she won't actually do."
"In some cases, that is a good thing," Camilla observed. "In this case, it might have been better if she had not even thought of writing such a message."
"Even if it were true?" asked Turnus.
Camilla was quiet for a moment. "I am not sworn to Mistral's service, my lord, I have knelt not before the Steward, I have taken no oath at Haven Academy, my pledge of loyalty is to you and your house. I do not desire to bring ruin and destruction down upon this kingdom, I do not hate Mistral nor consider myself its enemy, but, were the choice to be placed before me, or perhaps I should say, were I to be placed in the choice … I know where my loyalties lie."
Turnus looked at her across the island. "And yet," he said, "in such a circumstance, as described—"
"What circumstance?" asked Juturna.
"I would be in one place, and Juturna in another," Turnus went on. "At least at the time."
Camilla pursed her lips together. "That is correct, my lord, and in such circumstance, I know the choice that you, and your lord father's shade, would wish for me to make." She glanced at Juturna.
"What are you two talking about?" Juturna demanded.
"It is of no consequence," Turnus said. "And for myself, I am not fond of hypotheticals, especially not ones that purport to shed a light on moral character. Juturna says it is probably all false so, let it be false. More lies spread by dwarfs to bring down giants, as is ever the fate of those who rise too high to suffer calumnies by those who find it easier to envy accomplishment than to accomplish in their own right. We can only hope that too much is not detracted from true accomplishment by green-eyed falsehoods and that Ruby need neither be heartbroken nor vindicated by accusations that are best taken with a liberal pinch of salt."
XxXxX
The footfalls of Terri-Belle Thrax echoed in the cavernous throne room as she walked down the central colonnade to where her father, sat in his more modest chair before the empty throne, awaited her.
Lord Diomedes' hands were folded in his lap, clutching at the toga — sea blue, today — that he wore over his armour, creasing it in his palms.
He said nothing, but kept his eyes upon his daughter as she walked towards him, preceded by the echoing sounds of her feet upon the polished floor.
Terri-Belle stopped about eight feet away from her father and knelt down before him. Her head was bowed towards the floor, the braid of her hair falling down over her shoulder.
"You summoned me, my lord?" she asked. "Has the Lord Steward some business for the Warden of the White Tower?"
"Are you so certain that the father does not have business with his daughter?" asked Lord Diomedes, his voice sounding almost wounded by her words.
"If it were so, my lord, could we not have discussed this at the breakfast table?" asked Terri-Belle.
"I wish to discuss this with you alone," Lord Diomedes declared. "Shining Light and Blonn Di are … adequate, for certain tasks and offices, but limited in their uses. Swift Foot is young, and I must confess that I am doubtful of her quality."
"I think you underestimate her," Terri-Belle said.
Lord Diomedes was silent for a moment. "Perhaps," he said softly. "Perhaps the time will come for her to show her quality. In the meantime, rise, on your feet, my child, and look on me."
Terri-Belle rose as she was commanded and looked her father full in the face. He had bags beneath his eyes, as though he had slept poorly.
"How was your night, Father?" she asked.
"Restless," he admitted. "My thoughts were troubled. You have heard the news from Vale?"
Is that what you wished to discuss? "I … if it is what I think you are referring to, I am loath to call it 'news.' Is it not said that, while the farmer sows seeds of grain in the fields, the great lord sows seeds of rumour in the ears of the people?"
"Such is the Mistralian way," Lord Diomedes allowed. "But this report comes from Vale, not from Mistral."
"Nevertheless, it is but a report," Terri-Belle replied. "It may be a false report, sown in our ears. Or do you have additional intelligence to confirm it that I know not of?"
"I know no more than what has been said of Sunset Shimmer, Lady Nikos' pet, bearer of the black sword Soteria," said Lord Diomedes. "I know no more than that Lady Kommenos was struck down in Vale one night previous. I know no more than that these are not the first accusations to be made against the House of Nikos; before this, was it not suggested that Pyrrha Nikos herself was in league with Cinder Fall, the architect of Vale's misfortunes?"
"And then Lady Pyrrha fought with Cinder," Terri-Belle pointed out, "and bested her."
"And let her go," Lord Diomedes reminded her. "Just as she let her live again, having apparently bested her a second time."
"'Apparently'?" Terri-Belle repeated. "Father, what are you saying?"
"I dare say nothing publicly," Lord Diomedes said. "Yet I fear greatly. I fear…" He paused. "It is a thought almost too terrible to contemplate, and yet, at the same time…" A smile threatened to prick upon the corners of his wrinkled lips. "Almost too wonderful to be hoped for. I fear the House of Nikos has betrayed us."
Terri-Belle's eyes widened. That … that couldn't … that isn't possible.
She could see why her father feared it. If Pyrrha had betrayed them, betrayed Mistral, then … quite apart from her personal skill at arms, which was formidable indeed, if people knew that the Evenstar of Mistral, the last flowering of their ancient glory, had betrayed the kingdom that her family had built, then despair would follow. It would be a dolorous blow indeed to the morale of the city; it would … it would rock the very foundations of Mistral itself if the House of Nikos were to turn traitor.
Mistral had suffered too much already; so many blows had fallen upon it from defeat in the Great War, humiliation by the faunus, a decline that no councillors or their policies seemed able to arrest. People in other kingdoms thought that Mistral took the Vytal Tournament, and their lack of success in it, so seriously because they were tournament mad, because they were a bit obsessed, because they were a strange people with strange priorities. There was … some truth in some of that, at least, but it was also what no one said, or no one dared to say: that their failures in the tournament, their doom to be defeated over and over again in something they had invented, was a rather grim representation of the way that Mistral itself seemed doomed to sink lower and lower, until it became, even as one of only four kingdoms, absolutely irrelevant.
This was not a happy kingdom. It had moments of happiness, and Terri-Belle dared to hope that some people were at least somewhat content with their lives, but in the scale of things, this was a kingdom with decay clinging to it.
But it was a kingdom that at least had its heroes. Its celebrities. Its champions. Its reminders of a better time, a nobler time, a bygone age when Mistral had counted for something.
If one of those heroes, the most famous of them at present, turned on Mistral … what would it be but another sign that this was a walking corpse of a kingdom waiting to be put out of its misery?
Yes, Terri-Belle could see why her father feared it. She could also see why he found it enticing, the prospect of being rid of the House of Nikos for good and all. The former masters of Mistral and all its dominions, it had been eighty years now since the last Emperor, Odysseus, had laid down his crown at the end of the Great War, but nevertheless, the House of Nikos had continued to enjoy wealth and a mixture of power and influence, sometimes leaning more towards the latter and sometimes towards the former. The current Lady Nikos had served a stint on the Council, and even when they were not in so official a capacity, the voice of a Nikos carried weight in Mistral still. Meanwhile, the House of Thrax, the former servants, now the masters, were forever reminded that they were Stewards only. The very fact that her father had to sit on a more modest chair before the throne and could never dream of sitting on the throne himself was a visible, eternal reminder of the fact that the House of Thrax could never dream of rising as high as the House of Nikos once had.
The House of Thrax had saved Mistral after the faunus rebellion, deposing Ares Claudandus, making peace with the faunus, establishing the current order that had lasted to this day, and yet what was their reward? A modest chair and a single seat on a querulous, quarrelsome Council.
How many years must pass to make a steward a king, or an emperor? In Mistral, more years than any house would endure. And yet, the House of Thrax had been kings once, in Thrace; twice, they had knelt before the House of Nikos and laid their crowns aside, and even now, the House of Nikos continued to oppress them by the mere fact of its existence.
Yes, Terri-Belle could see also why her father scented opportunity here, to have the House of Nikos attainted and yet, for her … she would not deny that she felt the allure of a crown and untrammelled supremacy in her nostrils, but that sweet smell was far outweighed for her by the stench of fear that came from the notion that her father was suggesting.
"No," she whispered. "No, I do not believe it. Pyrrha has fought valiantly—"
"To advance her own prestige with the people, perhaps, and lead them astray," said Lord Diomedes.
"She fought against the karkadann when Mistral had few other—"
"It was necessary for her to establish her legend before she could betray it."
"No!" Terri-Belle cried. "No, Father, I…" She dared to turn away from her, the tap of her sandals on the floor echoing towards the high vaulted ceiling as she paced a few steps back. "No, Father, I will not think that all the honours Lady Pyrrha has gathered to her brow are nought but … nought but for the purpose of casting them aside; I will not believe it. She is … the hope and expectation of Mistral rests upon her shoulders!"
"That is the point!" Lord Diomedes shouted, rising from his chair. "That is why she would be the perfect dagger at the heart of Mistral, that is why she has done all of this … perhaps."
Terri-Belle boggled. "'Perhaps'?" she snapped. "You … you speak such terrors and then you say 'perhaps'?"
"I cannot say that it is not so," Lord Diomedes said, advancing upon Terri-Belle, reaching out to her with both his wrinkled hands; the rings of gold and silver on his fingers glittered in the light from the sconces on the walls. "Can you say for certain that it is not so? Can you say, without a shadow of a doubt, that there is no threat to Mistral in this?"
"For certain?" Terri-Belle murmured. She wanted to, to be sure, but in all honesty, all that she could say was, "You know that I cannot; I have no window into the souls of men."
"Then we cannot ignore the possibility," Lord Diomedes said. "How much rumour can accumulate around a person, around a family, before we start to consider that there may be truth amidst the fog? We cannot ignore the possibility. And we must prepare for it."
XxXxX
Weiss watched Cardin.
Cardin, in turn, was watching his scroll; to be more precise, he was glowering down at it as the First Councillor's press conference finished.
"Can you believe this?" he demanded, twisting waist around as he looked at his teammate. "Can you believe that Sunset got Skystar and her mother involved in this too? And Councillor Emerald?"
"So, you weren't convinced by their explanation?" Weiss asked softly.
"You mean, do I believe that Skystar was prepared to do that to her mother just to get back at Sunset for what she did to me?" Cardin asked. "That would be a boost to my ego, wouldn't it?" He snorted. "But I know I wasn't that good of a boyfriend. No, Sunset did it, she told Cou— Mrs. Aris and Councillor Emerald — and Skystar was prepared to rat them all out because … because she's a good person who wants to do the right thing."
"Are you sure the right thing is telling everyone that the Councillor's a liar, and the one before that was a liar and all, and one of the big heroes who defended the Breach, oh, by the way, she caused it?" Russel asked, with the tone in his voice making it clear what he thought.
"You don't think that the people deserve to know the truth about what their Council is doing?" asked Flash. "Especially since it wasn't even the whole council making the decision?"
Russel turned his head to look at Flash. "Your mom is … she's the Atlas Council's lawyer, right?"
"That's basically correct, yes," Flash replied.
"Then isn't it basically her job to bury all the bodies and cover up everything the Council does so nobody finds out about it?" asked Russel.
"You have a very negative opinion of lawyers," Flash said.
"Everyone knows that every gangster or toerag made good has a lawyer on call to get them out of trouble; it's just what they do," Russel said. "I'm not blaming them — everybody has to make a living — just that there's no point pretending it's anything else. Anyway, the real point is that people don't want to know everything the Council is doing; they just want to feel like everything's going okay. They want good jobs and some money for a bit of fun at the end of the week and to feel safe. Which isn't always the same thing as being safe. But finding out all this stuff about the First Councillor wouldn't have made anybody feel safe, and it had already happened, so it wouldn't have helped anybody to be safe either, so … what's the point?"
"The point is that Sunset did this!" Cardin snapped. "Sunset did it—"
"You've no proof of that," Weiss pointed out. "And everyone's word goes against it."
"I can believe it," Flash said. "Sunset has … Sunset's changed, but … she was always the kind of person who valued people above … values, I guess? And while she has changed, I don't think she's changed that much."
"Hmm," Weiss murmured. She supposed that, between them, Cardin and Flash ought to know. Cardin knew Skystar, after all, and Flash had known Sunset. So if they said that Skystar would do this but wouldn't do that, and that Sunset would do something else, then she would have to take their word for it, not knowing either of the two well enough to say for herself.
"Regardless of whether it's true or not, we aren't going to challenge the official narrative, of course," she said.
"What?" Cardin snapped, looking at her with his eyes widening. "We're not going to what?"
"We're not going to make a stink about this," Weiss said. "The First Councillor has spoken. Skystar Aris has spoken. The fact that you don't believe her is neither here nor there. If they are lying, then someone else will uncover the truth, or not, if they don't think it worthwhile to do so: Professor Ozpin, maybe, or another member of the Council, or … someone. This isn't our problem; in fact, it's a problem we could do without."
"Not our problem?" Cardin repeated. He got up off his bed, casting a long shadow across the room. "As huntsmen, all problems—"
"Are you really going to start lecturing me on how to behave like a huntsman?" Weiss asked tartly.
"Maybe someone should," Cardin replied.
"Then explain to me how it is the job of a huntsman — a student huntsman, no less — to contradict one of Vale's councillors, its leading councillor?" Weiss asked.
"This isn't Atlas," Russel pointed out. "We're not soldiers; we're not here to bootlick to blokes in power just because they're big guys with fancy titles or nothing."
"No, Russel, we're here to fight the grimm," Weiss said. "With occasional forays into fighting the White Fang or other criminal riff-raff. We might not be explicit servants of the powerful, but we aren't here to challenge or police them either, not even in Vale." She paused. "Nor are we here to persecute our fellow students, something that we have unfortunate form and reputation in already." She glared at Cardin a little. "Speaking of reputation, ours doesn't stand so high at the moment, so I can't imagine that our intervention would be welcome by anyone who shares your doubts about this story.
"You can all think whatever you like about this, but we are going to keep our thoughts to ourselves. This … none of this has anything to do with us—"
"Doesn't it have to do with your Atlas friends?" Russel asked.
"Yeah, with Rainbow and Twilight and the others," Flash said. "If Sunset has lied to them—"
"What makes you think they don't already know?" Weiss asked softly.
Flash fell silent at once, his mouth hanging open but no words emerging.
"I'm not accusing them of anything," Weiss went on. "Quite the contrary, as they are my friends," — and as the number of friends that I have isn't so large — "I have no desire to accuse them of anything. If they feel that they have been betrayed, I'm sure that they will deal with it appropriately without us blundering in where we aren't needed — unless, of course, they need our help, in which case, I've no doubt they will ask for it." As Rainbow and Blake did before. "But until or unless that happens, this is nothing whatsoever to do with us, and I, for one, think that we are better off out of it."
