Lords of Deception

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Lords of Deception Page 21

by Christopher C Fuchs


  “There are two other methods of imbuing weapons with such effects,” Arasemis said. “Marlan, lead everyone to your sword. It’s time we go to the laboratory anyway.”

  The group followed Marlan down to the chamber below the great hall. The laboratory reminded Rodel of the Master of Poisons building in Heingartmer, where the Wosmoks procured their poisons. He knew basic methods of dipping an arrow or knife into some foul mix, but he had never imagined a blade could permanently hold poisons.

  Marlan brought them to the barrel in the corner of the room, wherein the sword was submerged in a solution. Fetzer reached out to touch the liquid.

  “Careful! It’s not water,” Marlan said. “This acid of fysic and royal water will burn. It eats away the trace impurities in the steel and replaces them with components drawn from a sachet of stones that are now dissolved in the barrel.”

  “What stones?” Rodel asked.

  “Brassember, corbalt, sulfur, ardnamur, and napthar seed paste.”

  “What will happen to it?” Fetzer asked.

  “The blade will flame when it strikes steel,” Marlan said with pride.

  Rodel nodded. “A clever treatment.”

  “It isn’t a treatment like Bertwil’s,” Arasemis said. “What you see here is a combination of the other two metallurgical methods: alterlocum and glading. Glading is a method of folding in special materials when the alloy is first made. Alterlocum is what Marlan described with the removal of impurities and the dissolved stones. Glading and alterlocum are more painstaking than simple treatment, but rewarding when done right. Not as exquisite as a glyphblade, but still very good.”

  “What is a glyphblade?” Rodel asked.

  “Never mind that now,” Arasemis said. “We’ll discuss that when—”

  “I want a flaming sword,” Fetzer interrupted.

  Arasemis chuckled. “You have much to learn still.”

  Fetzer’s eyes sharpened as Rodel quickly thought of another question. “What about your current sword, Marlan, the one you killed Maillard Valient with?”

  “It is not an alchemical sword, but it is made of anchiclade. The purified ore permits a very thin, very long blade when paired with bog iron. It’s an ancient method developed by the Rahlampians.”

  “Their swords could cut through colonial Brintilian steel, gode steel, even trees,” Arasemis said. “They called them windrazors, though Marlan’s is a shorter variant.”

  “How long will it take to master aerina arcana?” Fetzer asked.

  “Depends on you, Fetzer,” Arasemis said. “Thorendor will feed, clothe, and shelter you. Your mind and body will be free to read and train. Alongside the three arcanae, you’ll also be required to study languages, navigation, politics, persuasion, and other things you’ll need to infiltrate, blend in, subvert, and destroy. With the more advanced students beside you, perhaps you’ll learn faster than you might otherwise.”

  “Then let’s get on with it,” Fetzer said.

  “First, back to the library,” Arasemis said. “Later, the training hall.”

  42. THEUDAMER

  Heingartmer, Ward of Havelbern

  Flowertide, 3034

  “King Erech is in a precarious position,” Meliamour said as she handed a letter to Theudamer. “You should read this yourself, Your Majesty.”

  Your Majesty,

  My apologies for not writing sooner. Eglamour is a city transformed by King Erech’s decrees known as the Proclamation of Expediency. His actions have spurred riots, killings, and various calamities the Donovards are ill-equipped to manage.

  However, as your ambassador to these people, it is my pleasure to inform you of two developments of note. First, Lord Minister Gottfried of Leauvenna has become the third high lord to be assassinated. He and his wife were killed at their castle, which was torched by a fire said to be unquenchable.

  Second, the defenses of Eglamour are significantly weakened. Despite calls for war by Duke Brugarn and General Chaultion, Erech’s proclamation has effectively disbanded several army units, sending these former soldiers into the streets as beggars and thieves. They join common folk who lack enough to eat despite the season. Should you ever order the march on Eglamour, laying siege to the city should not take long.

  Separately, I regret to report that Wredegar and his Wosmoks have made no progress in determining who is behind the lord ministers’ killings. Wredegar requests your permission to leave the capital to discern fact from rumor. Regarding the Wosmoks, the unit led by Etzel from Austveeden is overdue to arrive here. What’s more, the only known survivor of Wredegar’s unit, Rodel, is now missing. Thus, the Wosmoks of Donovan are effectively one man, Wredegar.

  Regarding court politics, I plan to meet with the newly confirmed Lord Minister Valient of Delavon, son of the slain Maillard. He is young but ambitious and well respected. I intend to open communication with him to gauge his willingness as a potential partner. Perhaps his inexperience and position will make him ideal for your plans to replace Erech with someone more agreeable to our needs when that decision is made.

  Lastly, the Donovards will sell Geras Vilarwef to the Austveedes unless we ransom him for double, meaning six hundred guldirs. Given the Austveedes will likely kill the man who has been our best rebel leader for some time, I advise we pay the ransom. The Donovards won’t have long to enjoy the money in any case.

  Your humble servant,

  Ambassador Vesamune Theudamer

  Eglamour

  The emperor set down the letter and looked at his council. “I’m glad to hear about Erech’s situation.” He turned to Meliamour. “Though I cannot thank the Wosmoks for making it happen.”

  “My apologies,” Meliamour said. “This is the first time that I’m aware we’ve lost two Wosmok units at once. I must offer my resignation and my seat at this council.” She stood and bowed, then waited for him to dismiss her.

  Theudamer let her wait a few moments before he spoke. “The Wosmoks have accomplished nothing of late, but neither have they created problems for me. Sit down, Meliamour. If I had wanted someone’s head, it would have been Garentorf’s, and he’s already fish food in a river.”

  He watched as she retook her seat with dignity. He favored Meliamour and her sister Vesamune for their loyalty, competency, and dedication to the tasks he gave them. He stroked his graying beard. “What happened to Etzel’s unit?”

  “I fear they all must be dead, Your Majesty,” Meliamour said. “Those in Austveeden confirmed their departure some time ago. And I sent a courier to our supporter in Fanedor, but the courier found the supporter dead. The area in Alpenon that Etzel would have traveled through is difficult. Lord Asteroth Avaleau is always prowling the borderlands. As for Wredegar’s subordinate Rodel, I can offer no explanation of his missing status if Wredegar cannot.”

  “Write to Vesamune,” Theudamer said. “Tell her to keep Wredegar in Eglamour. We’ll assume Etzel was intercepted, so take your pick of men and women from the Army of Havelbern to build a new unit to send to Wredegar.”

  “But, Your Majesty,” Graf interrupted,” I’ll need my best knights for the invasion of Donovan.”

  “You’ll have plenty of knights. And while I appreciate all your preparations, we will not attack Donovan yet. Something is eating away at Erech’s court from the inside and I want to let it continue for our benefit.”

  Herzol cleared his throat. “Perhaps this is a good time to deem my son’s service in the Wosmoks fulfilled. Wredegar would welcome returning to his knighthood and you can appoint a fresh commander in Eglamour.”

  “Again, I must deny your request, old friend,” Theudamer said. “Wredegar is still one of our best, and I need a commander who knows Donovan well. He will have plenty of time with the regular army later.”

  “Meliamour,” the emperor continued, “I want Wosmoks ready in Donovan when I need them. Regardless of what is happening in Erech’s court, his brothers on the borderlands are brutal and
reckless, and I’ll not stomach them much longer.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Theudamer turned back to his favorite pacifist. “Herzol, what is your opinion of Lord Arthan Valient? Vesamune thinks he may be malleable.”

  “If Valient becomes as influential in Erech’s court as his father was, negotiating with him could help avoid a war. If we can control him.”

  “I don’t want to avoid a war!” Graf shouted. “I want to hasten it. We have every cause to attack them. We can’t trust any Donovard lords no matter how much we may think they are our puppet.”

  “If war comes, our ambassador will no longer be welcome in Eglamour,” Meliamour said. “Having one of their lords in our pocket would help us know what is happening, and maybe facilitate Vesamune’s evacuation.”

  “You’ll know what’s happening there when I march my army into the city,” Graf said.

  “Meliamour, tell Vesamune to proceed with her talks with Valient,” Theudamer said. “As long as Asteroth and Erath don’t do anything foolish, she should have time to judge if he is someone we can deal with.”

  “Vesamune will be bedding the young Valient now, will she?” Graf said. “Perhaps old Chaultion has become too boring for her.”

  “No one asked your opinion,” Meliamour said.

  “I require your counsel on military matters only, Graf,” Theudamer said, “not on the means the ambassador uses to gather information. The truth is I don’t care about her liaisons. If Valient is a high lord we can control, then we’ll use him however we can. If not, we’ll look elsewhere.”

  “Why the intrigue, Your Majesty?” Graf asked. “If Donovan is to be ours, then let us take it by force and straightforwardly.”

  “Donovan is not some small territory,” Theudamer said. “Even if without a competent king, the local lords will band together to fight us. If we want all of Donovan, we must prepare the way for your knights by offing some leaders and driving wedges between the rest.”

  “What do you want to do about Geras Vilarwef?” Meliamour asked. “I agree with Vesamune: we should pay his ransom.”

  Theudamer shook his head. “I grow weary of dealing with the House of Vilarwef…All we have done for them over the years, for generations!”

  “They are still an excellent thorn in the side of Lord Asteroth,” Graf said. “There is no better rebel leader than Geras. The Donovards were fools not to have executed him when they got their hands on him. They fear him, and what the rebels would do if he were killed.”

  “Or maybe their offer to ransom him shows how desperate they are for gold,” Herzol said. “Erech’s treasury has long been dry.”

  “Desperate, yes, but not foolish,” Meliamour said. “The Donovards know that if they kill Geras, the rebellion that simmers now will erupt in their faces. It’s clever of them to sell Geras to the Austveedes, to let them kill him. I say buy him back.”

  “I agree,” Herzol said. “If we must have a war, it would be best to have him lead Durgensdil. No one can lead them better, except Gothal, of course.”

  “So you’re all united against me on this,” Theudamer said. “The Vilarwefs are as much a thorn in my side as the Donovards. Unlike all of you, I think the rebels’ claim to join our empire is an illusion meant to secure our assistance against the Donovards.”

  “It’s a difficult problem,” Meliamour said. “The mostly mountain folk of the Durgens have been independent minded since its founding as a Brintilian colony. But they are ethnic Rugens, so it’s natural for them to look to us for protection. It’s only a matter of time before Asteroth attacks them again.”

  “So be it,” Theudamer said. “But I want their Port of Orringholm and half their tin mines. And a portion of their yew forests to increase our stocks of bows. And I want them to give up their pitiful Congregantism. All of that, as payment for ransoming Geras and renewing our protection of them.”

  “They will never give up their religion, Your Majesty,” Herzol said, “nor should they be made to, in my opinion.”

  “As head of the House of Vilarwef, Gothal and his brother Geras are powerful symbols of resistance to the people of Durgensdil,” Meliamour said. “If we buy Geras and keep him in Rugenhav with Gothal for a while, we can send him back into Donovan later when the time is right. But if we place too many demands on him, he’ll sit back and watch us fight the war for him.”

  “If you think Geras is worth six hundred guldirs, then I want more from the Vilarwefs in return,” Theudamer said.

  “It’s payment for all of Durgensdil in the end,” Graf said.

  “They might be persuaded to open their mines and yew forests for a war effort,” Meliamour said, “if we time it right. And I do think Geras is worth the investment. Gothal is frail, and he has been a king in exile for too long. When Geras becomes king of the Durgens, his people will follow him.”

  “As long as he follows us,” Theudamer said. “Graf, as warden of Havelbern, you shall personally take the ransom money and meet the dirty Donovards at the border to take custody of Geras. Then bring him here to me.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.”

  43. ARTHAN

  Eglamour Palace, Toulon Ministry

  Flowertide, 3034

  “Serdot, this better not be a jest. The Lord Ministers’ Council is mere hours away.”

  “You know I never jest about such matters, my lord. I’m certain Garion is an assassin. You’ll need no further proof than this small letter, clumsily left by him in a closet in his quarters down in the Crownblades’ barracks.” Serdot handed Arthan the paper.

  Garion,

  You have done well. Your next task, which I relay from your master, is Brugarn on the last day of Flowertide.

  E

  “Could anyone have planted this note?” Arthan asked, handing the note to Bardil to read.

  “I also found this among Garion’s personal effects.” Serdot revealed a wooden mask. “As you can see, it is identical to the one I took from Marlan in Mordmerg.”

  “My God…” Bardil mumbled.

  “What day is it?” Arthan asked.

  “There are five days remaining in Flowertide. If you wish, we can expose Garion and save Brugarn. But you shouldn’t expect much in return from Brugarn. It may even give him cause to suspect you, more than he may already. Alternatively, you can let Brugarn die.”

  “Let him die then,” Bardil said.

  “No, we must expose this assassin,” Arthan said. “Brugarn is still a member of the royal family who—”

  “—wouldn’t save your life if given the same choice,” Serdot said.

  “I’m of the House of Valient, not a wicked slug like Brugarn. We’ll expose Garion at the council.”

  Serdot nodded. “Best to do it in front of the king and his whole court, ensuring your enhanced reputation among the most people. I will make sure Sir Hamelin brings Garion to court.”

  “Who is behind all of this, Serdot? Who is this E person, and who is their common master?”

  “We will press Garion to tell us.”

  “What will this do to Hamelin? Garion is one of his men, after all.”

  “He may lose command of the Crownblades. Also, Hamelin could be part of this.”

  “I didn’t consider that…”

  “Even if Hamelin isn’t part of the plot, Brugarn could make this very ugly.”

  “Find out all you can, Serdot, while I’m at the council. It is imperative.”

  ---

  Arthan walked into the assembly chamber used by the lord ministers for councils. His head was a bit light, and his heart raced. Aside from it being his first Lord Ministers Council, he had never been in possession of information that determined the life and death of a royal. He was unused to this world of shadows and secrets. But the knowledge that Brugarn’s life was in his hands gave him a calm confidence.

  “You look as if you’ve stumbled into the wrong place,” Reimvick said as Arthan took
his seat beside him. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, I just…I’m learning much about the court.”

  “Oh, do share,” Reimvick whispered, his eyes widening at the prospect of juicy rumor.

  “I’m afraid not at this time,” Arthan said. “But soon, my friend.”

  “Most mysterious…Am I in any danger, Arthan?”

  “You’d be the first to know if that were the case.”

  “If it’s Brugarn who wishes to see me killed next, then your news is old indeed.” Reimvick smiled. “If he had his way, this council would not exist.”

  “I cannot say more,” Arthan said. “The council has many important matters to discuss.”

  “Yes, but whatever is troubling you seems more important.”

  Arthan turned to watch the others take their seats at the meeting table. The knowledge that an assassin was waiting in the palace was difficult to sequester in his mind. Reimvick’s gentle prodding did not make it any easier. Arthan wondered if any of the other lords knew what he knew, or were part of the conspiracy.

  He looked around. Sigbert had arrived from Barres Ministry. Duke Henrey of Elmbrel, who had married Erech’s eldest daughter, Avalane, was also present. Duchess Voufon, the queen’s sister, was lord ministeress of Laume and also ruled the Donovard side of Nore Island. Another woman, Eperude, was lord ministeress of Lundwynland. Dukes Asteroth and Erath were absent as Serdot had predicted, as was Ferin of Hanovel. Couriers relayed his preoccupation with Donovan’s claims to the Almerian-occupied islands. The chair for the Lord Minister of Leauvenna was still vacant, Gottfried’s successor still undetermined.

  Then there was Duke Brugarn. The Lord Minister of Toulon arrived last, entering the chamber as if he were already king. Arthan could not help but picture a bloody corpse as he watched Brugarn make his opening statement to the council.

  “And since it is the first meeting since the assassinations, I want everyone to endorse my plan to replace you if you’re killed. Given the speed with which these killers strike, we need to have lord ministers ready to succeed you when…”

 

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