Gentleman's Wars 2: A Tower Defense LitRPG Series

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by Andrew Karevik


  “I will kill you if you try to take him,” Arnison said. Shadows seemed to cover his face, hiding his features from me. I felt a terrible dread well up as he spoke such dark words.

  “We aren’t savages, Arnison. The Crown cannot kidnap people, let alone children. Your brother came willingly.”

  “And I’m sure he died just as willingly. For Queen and Country, like a good little soldier. Peter was a good man, but too patriotic to know that rulers don’t care about anything other than power. The man was my brother, my friend and a father to two beautiful boys. But I’m sure all you folks saw was a willing test-subject to sacrifice in the name of the twin gods of progress and conquest. Get out of my house and never return.”

  The government man opened his mouth to speak again, but something caught his attention in the corner of his eye. He turned and faced me head on. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a junior spy,” he said with a chuckle. “Come here, lad, would you like a sweet drink? It tastes just like candy.” In his hands was a familiar amber bottle. It contained a memory-suppressing potion. I tried to resist, to shout and say no, but found myself unable to do anything other than stumble towards them both. Something was stuck beneath my feet. Oh! It was my old blanket.

  My eyes opened at once, causing the dream to fade away. It was morning. Yoni was stretching by the window as she always did, muttering prayers in Elvish. Birds were chirping, the smell of breakfast was in the air and my fever had finally broken. The stomach pain was gone, and my head was perfectly clear. Well…more than clear, actually. I don’t know why or how, but I just recovered a lost memory. A memory of what actually happened to my father. He was like me and…the illness killed him. Or was it an illness? The Queen’s Men seemed to believe differently.

  Chapter 30

  The strange scene that had unfolded in my mind’s eye faded quickly as the reality of my situation returned. Illness or no, I had an alliance to defend. And now that my health had bounced back after a day’s worth of rest, it was time to figure out some method of getting the second batch of crystals out of the Baron’s property.

  My biggest hope was in finding someone I could seduce to our side. Time was growing short, less than five days before the ultimatum ended and the Baron attacked. I had been worried that he would try and attack now, since I had raided his territory, but remembered that he issued a public ultimatum. Even if I had taken some liberties with his property, he had a far greater reputation to worry about. Claiming that he, a Baron, was merely defending himself from a little gentry would be met with ridicule. I still had time, though far less of it than I needed.

  “Ahhh, our esteemed Gentleman of the House!” Seamus Tonor said as I entered the library. The mega table was still up, with a few maps of the east scattered about. I could see various little figures on the map, all of different colors. “I was hoping you’d recover quickly.”

  “Thank you, honorable Seamus,” I said, bowing a little. Some movement in the corner of the library caught my attention. It was Sophia, my “sister-in-law” and mother to Avaline. The widow had stayed in the background so much lately that I hadn’t really thought of her. In her hands was a large stack of books, all different histories of famous families.

  “Sophia!” I said, bowing to her as well, more out of surprise than custom. “It’s good to see you.”

  “This wonderful young woman has been so kind to help me fetch books on the highest shelves,” Seamus said, eliciting a chuckle from the middle-aged Sophia. Of course, a man of Seamus’ age probably did see her as young. “Truly, she has been a blessing in my work.”

  “Thanks for helping out,” I said, taking my seat beside the Magistrate, looking at the map. “I appreciate it.”

  “It’s better than working in the garden by that horrid beast,” Sophia replied as she placed the books besides the Magistrate.

  “Mister Slug’s not so bad when you get to know him,” I said.

  “I was referring to Mr. Joeth,” she said. “Damn man’s window is right by the garden. He spots me whenever I go out to tend to the plants and tries to chat me up.”

  “You don’t find overconfident loudmouths attractive?” I asked, prompting a chortle from her.

  “Your brother was the only idiot I ever needed in my life,” she replied. She frowned for a moment and went to correct herself. “Not that he was an idiot! I meant—”

  I interrupted her with a laugh. “You don’t need to qualify your statements. Eric was a good man, but he was quite dense at times.”

  Sophia let out a little sigh of relief at that and seemed to bask in being able to rib her departed beloved with someone else. And then, the shadow of pain, the sting of loss quickly came back, prompting her to take her leave, to mourn the idiot she’d never be able to see again. I too felt a pang of sorrow, but pushed it aside, as always, so that I could focus on the task at hand.

  “Tell me about potential allies,” I said. “And please have good news.”

  “I have great news on that front, my good man,” Seamus said. He leaned over the table and picked up a pink little figure. It was in the shape of a noblewoman. “Are you aware that Lady Efera has a cousin? Miss Imius. Or should I say, Mrs. Imius. See, there was a split between Juliet and her cousin about some property line. Imius had sort of been Juliet’s lackey for most of her life, carrying out her older cousin’s whims and demands, all in the hopes of finally getting ownership of a territory. An estate of her own, if you will.”

  “I’m guessing Juliet never made good on the promise?”

  “Never! Lady Efera took her cousin for granted until finally, the woman snapped and stormed off, taking a large amount of defectors with her. The Baron seized opportunity of this and was quick to offer the young lady one of his nephews and a mansion of her own. All for the low, low price of simply not sending troops to aid Efera’s defenses against the Baron’s golems. Imius was more than happy to not only comply with the Baron’s request but to give him such vital information as what to expect at the Lady’s estate, making capturing it easy as pie.”

  I frowned at this. “Hardly sounds like a good candidate for joining our side. She’s married to the Baron, so she can’t fight him.”

  “Annnnnnnnd…she can’t fight us, either!” Seamus said. “The Baron’s nephew is a vassal, but they are incapable of invading us because blood cannot fight blood. The only way that Imius and her husband could participate in the war would be if Imius cast off the Efera name for good and gave up all claims, essentially abandoning her blood.”

  “And the Baron hasn’t demanded she do so yet?” I asked.

  “There’s the complication. Imius is also the Baron’s only claim to Efera’s land. So…”

  “If she gives up her name, the Baron loses Casus Belli to attack us. Right?”

  “Not quite. The Baron’s Casus Belli comes from having successfully captured Efera’s capital, that’s the claim he is pressing to attack us. But he doesn’t own a claim to the lands surrounding the area, only Mrs. Imius does,” Seamus replied.

  “So what does that mean for us in practical terms?” I asked. “The woman can’t go to war for us or against us, so why is she of any interest whatsoever?”

  “Because she still keeps her last name, and therefore is the primary claimant on all territories around Efera Estates. The Baron’s key reason for pursuing Mrs. Juliet so valiantly is to remove the other claimant to those territories. Once that is done, Imius will renounce her own claims in exchange for a new title granted directly from the Baron. Then, as per law, renounced claims go straight to her liege, who happens to be…”

  “The Baron,” I concluded. “So this whole thing isn’t about Juliet at all, is it? The Baron just wants the claims to go to him.”

  “So that he may distribute them to those whom he trusts, yes,” Seamus agreed. “Which is standard practice in the Great Game. If you don’t learn how to properly hold and manage your claims, you might have some trouble down the road when one of
your grandkids decides they deserve it all.”

  “I thought blood couldn’t fight blood though?”

  “It’s not uncommon for a claimant to approach another higher-ranking noble with a proposition. Similar, in fact, to what Mrs. Imius has done. Pressing a claim on the behalf of someone else is one of the highest reasons for invasions,” the old man explained. “But anyway, we’re getting distracted. Point is: Imius is the weakest link here. No one else in the Baron’s employ is willing or able to unhorse him the way Imius could.”

  I frowned. “I’m still missing how she can help us. Even if she were willing, that is.”

  “If Imius were to withdraw support for the Baron, he would no longer have one loose end. He’d have two. Worse yet, one of those loose ends would be his blood, meaning he could not attack her. This might not stop him from attacking us, but it would significantly reduce his allies’ desire to assist him. No doubt there is a line of supporters who already have been promised new titles and properties. Don’t forget, a Baron of that size doesn’t run everything himself. He must create titles out of the new claims he gains and then grant them to vassals.”

  “So, by taking away the primary incentive for his allies to support the Baron, I’d be just facing him?” I said.

  “Exactly,” Seamus said, clasping his hands together. “He’s already promised his allies all sorts of goodies in exchange for their aid. If they realize he cannot make good on those promises, not only will they withdraw their support, they’ll demand he return that which was mustered. You stand a great deal to gain from swaying her.”

  “But there’s the rub, isn’t it?” I said with a sigh. “Getting a scorned cousin to both forgive Juliet and switch sides? Sounds near impossible.”

  “That’s really your department,” Seamus said, shrugging at me helplessly. I could see he had no brilliant ideas or insights here. “I wish you the best of luck in getting her to see the light.”

  I’d need more than luck to pull this off. I’d need some kind of edge, something I could use to convince Imius to join my side.

  “Can you set up a meet…” my words trailed off as Seamus handed me a piece of paper with a location and a time on it.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of arranging a meeting already. There’s a Commander Hall in Lynton. Considered to be the Queen’s property, it’s a neutral place for Commanders away from their homes to safely work on the Grid. The neutrality and anonymity of the building lends itself to being a safe kind of meeting ground for nobles.”

  “Anonymity?”

  “Indeed, multiple underground entrances allow nobles to come and go as they please, all without being seen by the world around them. Allows for a great way to meet with an individual without raising suspicions.”

  I glanced down at the paper. “How’d you manage that? Why on earth would she be willing to meet me?”

  “One thing you learn rather quickly in this game, Master Richard,” Seamus said with a chuckle. “Is to hear out your enemies whenever they have something to say. Either the offer is good enough for you to change your mind, or they reveal valuable information, information that they sometimes didn’t intend for you to learn.”

  Chapter 31

  I staggered out of my autocarriage, trying to catch my breath. The door slammed behind me, as to not allow any onlookers to view my wife in her current state. Yoni had insisted on coming with me for the ride, though I realized shortly after we departed that she wasn’t interested in politics as much as spending some alone time with me. My health had improved enough so for us to thoroughly enjoy the trip over, though her demands for even more by the end of it had left me depleted of my vigor. Still, it was nice having some quiet time with her.

  We were indeed bonding, though in a different way from what I had expected. We didn’t have common ground in many areas, and her interests in my career were nonexistent to say the least. Sometimes I’d say something to her, as we nestled in bed together, about my challenges and she’d merely say it would all work out in the end. A platitude that she had learned to speak whenever she was uninterested in the conversation at hand. I wouldn’t say she was cold to me, not when she always received me with such fervor and passion, but…our bond was in flesh, not in friendship. In mutual desire and passion, not conversation and kinship. I felt close to her, but there was still a wall between us. Perhaps it was from the cultural barriers, or her deep rooted sense of disdain towards men in general, but I found it hard to connect to her on a meaningful level.

  Those thoughts drifted through my head as I arrived at the nearby “inn” which was secretly connected to the Commander Hall in the city of Lynton. The inn itself, known as the Winding Road, was pleased to host me for the time being. Indeed, I was greeted with a fresh basket of grapes, a few bottles of wine and a luxurious suite to enjoy for my stay. No questions were asked about my business and the staff was all too pleased to refer to me as Mr. Hans, instead of my actual name. The Winding Road understood discretion fully and they were more than willing to pretend that I was just a nobody. When I inquired if other guests were staying, I was met with a noncommittal “I’m not sure about that,” from the check-in desk, despite the fact that a few folks were clearly coming in with their bags. I quite liked such a response.

  I had time enough before the meeting to bathe, change my clothes and consume a few glasses of wine to help settle my nerves. Yoni merely watched me from her bed as she performed her post-coital routine of stretching and consuming fertility potions.

  “You are nervous?” she asked.

  “Somewhat, yeah.”

  The elven woman frowned a little. “I have observed some of your kind patting one another on the shoulder or back, to provide a means of comfort. Would such a thing do well for you now?”

  I laughed at her suggestion, but took her up on the offer, sinking down on the bed beside her as I laced up my boots. She gave me a hearty thump on the back, enough so to make me cough.

  “Buck up, pal,” Yoni said, slapping me once more on the back. That one stung.

  “Ow, who taught you that?” I groaned.

  “Joeth does it often, to those whose faces are long,” she explained. “He taught me the phrase as well.”

  “Of course he did,” I said, shaking my head. I gently wrapped my arm around Yoni’s waist and pulled her close. “Thank you, my dear.”

  “You are most welcome. I should hope this meeting goes well,” she said, nestling her head against my chest. She raised a vial and uncorked it, causing a rather unpleasant smell to greet my nostrils.

  “What is that?” I asked, my curiosity pushing all anxiousness aside.

  “Just a potion meant to make my belly swell,” she said with a gentle sigh. She went to raise the concoction to her lips, but I was quick to intercept, prying it from her hands. “Excuse me! That is not for men. Though there are potions meant for you, but you haven’t quite needed them yet.”

  I raised the vial up to the light to inspect the contents, ignoring my wife’s demands I give it back. The murky green liquid had no glow to it, no shimmering that denoted any magical ingredients whatsoever.

  “This is purely herbal,” I said. “No magic infused.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “The shimmer…” I said, taking a deep sniff of the draught. Anise? That was the prime ingredient here. Overwhelming the scent of anything else. It was commonly used as a masking agent, to make other herbs palatable. It had little to do with aiding pregnancy.

  Yoni watched with curiosity as I produced a few tools from my luggage, one of which was called a filtration sifter. I kept my alchemical supplies with me at all times, partly out of habit and partly out of fear of being poisoned and needing to whip up a quick antidote. The sifter was composed of twelve separate vials, all connected by a single funnel. Pouring a liquid into the funnel would trigger a sifting process that would pull apart the alchemical composition. Useful for forensics, identifying where
potions failed and for extracting precious resources from a failed potion.

  “I do not have an infinite supply of those,” Yoni said as she stood beside me, watching as I tilted the vial’s contents into the funnel. The filtration sifter started to click and quark as it began to activate, sorting each ingredient into a vial.

  “I can put it back together easily enough,” I said. “I’m just curious to see how this works.”

  “You plug your nose, drink it down and try not to shudder too much,” she said.

  “You don’t care for the taste?”

  “Anise is a cruel herb. It is a dark irony that many believe it to be useful for candies,” Yoni said, leaning in close to watch as the liquids poured simultaneously into two separate vials.

  “Just two?” I muttered. Not much of a mixture here. The anise extract I knew, but the dark green liquid was unfamiliar to me. Herbology was one of the most important parts of my education as an alchemist. Before we were even able to touch magical compounds, we were drilled in learning the ins and outs of all herbs and plants. “Nature has provided enough magic in the world itself,” my instructors had drilled into my head. “One just needs the right amount of plant matter to achieve their goals. Anything done with magic can be done with herbs, though to a lesser degree. Before you can command the higher elements, you must command nature itself.”

  I lifted the murky green liquid and took a sniff. Immediately, memories of everyone blushing and laughing at the topic at hand came flashing back to me. Birth control. This was stoneseed extract, a rather toxic plant that prevented a woman from having children. This was not meant to promote fertility in the least. What? No, that couldn’t be right…but I took another sniff. Blind scent tests were a part of our education, for sometimes smell was the only thing that helped you differentiate from two similar-looking extracts.

 

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