Heretic Spellblade 3

by Robertson, K. D.

  “That’s the point,” the Emperor replied drily. “They need to realize that the Empire has expanded. What did they think would happen when we conquered new territory? That it would just sit there with nobody ruling it?”

  “I imagine they thought they’d rule it,” Nathan said.

  A mixture of grimaces and wry smiles rose on everyone’s faces.

  “To continue, the Amica dukes oppose war. The Lords College hasn’t voted on the peace terms yet. There’ll be a showdown tomorrow, when both colleges come together,” the Emperor said. “Hence, Alice, I have to confirm that we will win.”

  “We will,” she said.

  What followed was a detailed rundown of votes that Nathan didn’t even try to follow. The Diet’s voting system was complex, particularly as every noble had only one vote. Alice talked about which counts would abstain, which Nationalists had defected, who had been bribed, who was being intimidated into voting or not voting—Nathan understood the words, but the sheer amount of people involved was oppressive to him.

  He supposed it was similar to commanding an army. Where he kept officers in line, Alice wrangled nobles.

  Except Nathan’s officers were a touch more reliable and loyal. These nobles were unelected, and as such could do whatever they liked for the most part. A number of the votes came from bribes or promises such as not passing certain laws.

  “This may be a stupid question,” Nathan said when a lull arose. “But I get the impression that a lot of the proposals in the Diet are fake.”

  Alice and the Emperor smirked.

  “Oh, what makes you think that?” Alice asked, her smile indistinguishable from a cat’s.

  “Because you’re talking about giving up on half of them in order to convince nobles to vote for peace,” Nathan said. He raised an eyebrow. “Are you basically threatening them with… proposals in the Diet if they don’t support you?”

  “Yes,” Leopold said flatly. “That’s why our fiscal and military situation is so tight. While we need to raise more from the nobles, we’re letting them off in exchange for support for peace.”

  Something clicked in Nathan’s mind.

  “But I’m still recruiting without any real issues,” he said slowly.

  “You have a beastkin enclave, and a rather significant advantage,” Leopold said.

  “Indeed,” the Emperor said. “And that brings us to our next point, now that we’ve established that peace with Trafaumh is inevitable. Your agreement with the Imperial Sorcerer’s Lodge. This is in accordance with your oath to the goddess, yes?”

  “It is,” Nathan said, feeling he wasn’t lying.

  If he was only helping them develop technology that existed in his world, how could it be a violation of his oath?

  “Then it’s fine,” the Emperor said.

  They discussed more matters. Hours passed. The knights brought in chairs, and Nathan noticed that they carefully investigated each piece of furniture as it was brought in. Maylis’s overwhelming presence reached into the room as she personally inspected the chairs.

  Why she didn’t make some herself was beyond Nathan.

  “I’m not you,” she said aloud, as if reading his mind. Her accent was thick and clearly belonged to Trafaumh.

  Everybody froze.

  “The chairs,” Maylis said, waving a hand at them. “I don’t craft.”

  Nathan scratched the back of his head as Leopold smirked at him.

  “Your talent at creating opulent castles has been spoken of widely,” Leopold said. “Ambassador Sureev brought it up when he came here recently.”

  Ah, Sureev. The dark elf ambassador from the Aurelian Spires.

  “He did? And what was he in Aleich for? I assumed he’d be busy,” Nathan said.

  “He wants me to oversee Torneus’s trial,” the Emperor said gruffly. “The Council is ruffled. He didn’t say as much—he never tells you anything so clearly, so much as implies it with his honeyed words—but something is awry in the Spires.”

  “You’re not going, however,” Alice said.

  It sounded as if this discussion was a repeat.

  “No. But I feel you should, Nathan,” the Emperor said, pointing a wrinkled finger at him. “You know Torneus. You understand what caused the cascade. Astra herself approves of you. I need you to find out what is going on in the Spires. The last thing we need is for one of the oldest nations on Doumahr to collapse.”

  Nathan agreed, on many levels.

  “Do you want me to contact them?” he said.

  “If you’re happy with the assignment, I’ll inform Sureev. Given he approached you himself before, I suspect he will do so again when the Spires are ready for you,” the Emperor said. He sighed. “For now, let us worry about the Nationalists.”

  The meeting broke up. Nathan noticed that the Emperor remained seated, and that Alice remained behind with Leopold.

  But he didn’t poke his nose where it didn’t belong. Something about Alice’s expression made him think their discussion wasn’t related to politics.

  Instead, he left with Anna and his Champions. There was someone else he was curious about.

  “Anna, where’s Fyre?” he asked.

  Ciana tilted her head. “Fyre?”

  “Your competition,” Sen said. “Another horsegirl, and she idolizes Nathan even more than you do.”

  “I don’t—” Ciana rolled her eyes. “She’s from the Federation, right? We’re different.”

  “Uh huh. You both have blonde hair, horse ears and tail, and are hot. And are hot for Nathan. I’d say it’s a race, and she’s definitely keen.” Sen elbowed the unicorn in the ribs.

  Ciana turned cherry red and refused to look at Nathan or anyone else.

  “She asked to be given the day off,” Anna said. “Said she wanted to meet with some beastkin here.”

  “Fyre knows beastkin in Aleich?” Nathan said in disbelief.

  Anna shrugged.

  Surprisingly, it was Ciana who spoke up. “Um, you’re talking about a blonde horse beastkin who likes you, right? I think I know where she might be.”

  The fact that such a simple description allowed Ciana to identify Fyre concerned Nathan.

  She led them outside the palace grounds, which required them to take carriages for security reasons. Eventually, they arrived at a large church dedicated to Omria only a few blocks away. Despite how close it was to the palace, the buildings looked far cheaper. Many more beastkin walked the streets and there were more normal handcarts and wagons than horseless ones.

  “In here,” Ciana said.

  The sign outside concerned Nathan. This was clearly a church for beastkin, but the day’s session indicated anyone was welcome.

  When they stepped inside, nobody greeted them. The pews were almost full. Several varieties of beastkin ears poked up from the crowd, all attentively listening to the speaker. Many had hands clasped in prayer. More than a few humans filled out the crowd.

  Statues and stained glass images of Omria lined the walls of the church, but it was simply furnished otherwise. The stone architecture lacked any trim, and the cracks showed in many corners. The building showed its age.

  A wolf beastkin in an Imperial Army uniform spoke from the speaker’s podium. She didn’t wear Nathan’s crest.

  Her words spoke of how she had fought against Trafaumh. Of Omria’s guidance. Lots of filler about the goddess. In general, it was a speech about how her life was better because of Omria, and because the Empire had given her a pile of money to fight Trafaumh. She now had the funds to do something outside her village.

  Given how many beastkin nodded, Nathan wondered how many of them shared her story. The pay for Imperial soldiers was far greater than beastkin made from farming. And most beastkin were farmers, or hunters, or some other rural job that barely subsisted off the land after taxes.

  The wolf beastkin left the stage, and a catgirl took her place. She wore the robes of a priestess of Omria.

  “Um, our next speaker today is�
��” she began to say, but the crowd began to chatter and Nathan missed it.

  He blinked. “Is this normal?”

  Ciana smiled uncertainly. “For us, yes. I’ve been to human sermons and everybody is so quiet, and only the priest talks. But for us, worship is communal. We share our stories and wisdom. We don’t have campfires and villages to gather around, so we come to a church at some time in the week to… talk about it.”

  That was different. Fei never went to the chapel, and he’d never intruded on the religious behavior of his beastkin in his world or this one, so this was new to him. Maybe he should have paid more attention in the past.

  Then his attention was caught by the next speaker as she walked up on stage. She was a golden-haired horse beastkin with red eyes, wearing an Imperial Army uniform, and she openly wore Nathan’s crest on her arm.

  Fyre smiled brightly at the crowd, almost certainly aware that Nathan stood at the back.

  “I’d like to tell you all about what it’s been like as a beastkin in the Federation, especially now that we’ve been liberated. And I’d also like you to know who is responsible, because I think we all know how important it is that we remain free,” she said.

  The chapel fell silent. Every eye fixed on her, and every beast ear pricked upward, as Fyre began her fiery speech.

  Chapter 11

  Listening to Fyre’s speech proved uncomfortable for Nathan. She retold the events of his invasion of the Federation through a very different lens. One entirely focused on the beastkin, and that reinterpreted his actions in almost messianic ways.

  Nathan held in his grimace when she brought up the beastkin slaves he led out of Tartus. In reality, he took them because he had no reason to refuse them, and he was worried about a brutal slave uprising.

  To Fyre, his actions were symbolic. He rode into Tartus without a battle, captured Torneus without a fight, and led a procession of beastkin slaves out of the city. Weeks later, the Federation fell without a fight and all beastkin were freed.

  The audience listened intently, enraptured by Fyre. She was a natural at this. Her passion shined through, as did her religious fervor, and she showed a level of eloquence far beyond anything Nathan had seen from her before.

  Her speech shifted into the current situation, and how life was improving under the Empire due to the Emperor, Anna, and Nathan. He looked around at the listeners.

  A grim expression crept onto his face. Slowly, he began to understand something that he had thought he understood, but had never really comprehended.

  It was late afternoon. Many of those here had finished work for the day, or were preparing for an evening shift. Their clothes and uniforms spoke volumes about their jobs. The wolfgirl from earlier was far from the only soldier from the Imperial Army present. Guard uniforms, soldiers from private nobles, mercenaries, smiths, laborers, burly warehouse workers—the list of physical professions went on.

  Some of the women differed, but not as many as Nathan might have thought.

  Nathan preferred beastkin knights and soldiers due to their inherent physical advantage over humans. He was far from the only person who knew this, given the sheer amount of them serving in the royal guard and knights. When it came to raw physical labor, a beastkin had a massive advantage over humans.

  A wolf beastkin could carry things that would need a dozen men. Even the dullest merchant knew the competitive advantage that could give them.

  In Falmir, beastkin had never integrated into society to any great degree. They had remained slaves until the last few years, when the sheer volume of refugees had made the practice too dangerous for the nobles to continue. But too little time had passed for society to change.

  Emperor Gorthal had ruled for nearly forty years, after his father’s death caused him to be elected over his elder brother. One of his earliest actions had been to ban beastkin slavery in the Empire. That one action had wound its way through the Empire. Most beastkin in this church had never lived under slavery, even if their parents had.

  “I don’t say this to scare you, or anger you, or turn you on others,” Fyre said as she finished a section about the Nationalists and their threat to beastkin. “But we must remember who it is that supports and helps us. The Watcher Omria looks over all of us, does she not? If we are all protected by her light, why do some say otherwise?”

  Ah, shit. Nathan knew where this was going. He’d heard the same argument before, in another world.

  In Arcadia, the elves and beastkin had used similar arguments against the faeries who ruled them with a gold-plated fist. The resulting civil war had torn the republic apart at the worst time. The Federation and Arcadia had collapsed at almost the same time, resulting in a mass evacuation west, and a grand defense along the Gharrick Mountains and the Spires.

  A cold pit formed in Nathan’s stomach as he remembered the cause of Arcadia’s turmoil and the aftermath.

  Who was Fyre?

  Reaching out to check on her with his magic senses would cause trouble. For that matter, he already had confirmed she was an ordinary beastkin Champion when they first met. She couldn’t be a Messenger. He could even use ascended magic now, so it wasn’t as though she could hide from him.

  He calmed down, but made a mental note to ask Kadria about the horse beastkin when he had the chance.

  “We are all Omria’s children,” Fyre declared. “There are those that defend us. Emperor Gorthal, Bastions Leopold and Nathan, Archduke von Milgar, Duchess von Clair—the list is many. But I want you to remember how I started my story. Things are better now, but not everybody follows Omria’s teachings.”

  Fyre bowed her head, finishing her speech.

  The church erupted into a cacophony of chatter, applause, jeers, and cheering. Nathan didn’t have a clue who supported or opposed her. Nobody rose to their feet or threw anything. Then again, they hadn’t interrupted her, so even if they disagreed, they had done so politely.

  Then again, Fyre had waited until the end to accuse the Nationalists of being heretics. What a firebrand.

  The priestess ran up to the podium and asked repeatedly for people to restrain themselves to talking. That amused Nathan.

  “Ah, so you can talk as much as you like, but no clapping, cheering, whistling, or insults,” he said.

  “You say that, but you’re talking,” Sen said.

  Ciana scowled at him. “Is it really that strange?”

  He winced and raised his hands to ask for peace. “I don’t mean it like that. But it is oddly specific.”

  “It’s about respect for the speaker. Although… usually speakers don’t accuse people of heresy,” Ciana said, mumbling at the end. “Um, that’s Fyre?” Her eyes narrowed at Nathan.

  “I am Fyre, yes,” the horsegirl said, appearing as if summoned.

  Ciana jumped, then turned around and glared at the new arrival.

  Now that they stood next to each other, their similarities and differences were only more apparent to Nathan. Fyre had a few inches on Ciana, and her hair was a deeper blonde, rather than Ciana’s platinum. Only Ciana had the unicorn horn. Their eyes were opposing colors: Ciana’s blue, and Fyre’s red.

  But both had blonde horse ears and tails, and were of similar frames and general appearance. Once Ciana wore a Champion’s uniform, they’d be difficult to tell apart at a hundred yards.

  “You’re thinking that we look similar.” Ciana pouted at him, her face reddening.

  An odd smile rose on Fyre’s face, but it was uneasy. Her eyes wavered as she looked at Nathan, and he saw a question in them.

  “This is Ciana, isn’t it, my—” Fyre cut herself off, then looked around.

  More than a few people stared at them, their eyes locking onto the Imperial Army uniforms and Nathan’s Bastion emblem.

  “Let’s head somewhere else,” Nathan suggested.

  He didn’t want to be mobbed. Not after that speech. He wasn’t anyone’s messiah.

  They found a nearby restaurant. Given the time of day, the o
nly customer was an old man who sat at the bar, chatting with the owners. He had wolf ears. The owners and the staff were beastkin as well.

  Nathan did his best not to feel uncomfortable. Ciana had led them into a part of Aleich occupied heavily by beastkin. While humans wandered past outside, they were vastly outnumbered by people with animal ears, horns, and tails.

  Despite that, the staff rushed out with menus, glassware, and cutlery. Anna told them to bring out whatever specialties they had, plus coffee for everyone.

  “I get the feeling you’re used to this,” he told her, after the beastkin hurried away.

  “Part of my duty as countess involved visiting the various towns and villages. That means sitting down for a drink or a simple meal in whatever they have available. Refusing would be deeply insulting. Whatever feelings they truly had for me, they did their best to make me feel welcome. The least I can do is be polite and kind.” Anna’s smile turned brittle. “I do miss that part of the job.”

  Nathan winced. “I take it you’re too busy to travel much?”

  “I travel quite a bit, but there are more towns in my duchy than there were villages in my old county.” Anna laughed. “And the reactions are very different, now. People expect to see counts and barons around. A duchess is one step removed from royalty. The last time I went inside a tavern, half the town turned up to stare at me.”

  “We’re fortunate that we haven’t been noticed, then,” Sen said.

  “Oh, we’ve definitely been noticed. The difference is that people are interested in Nathan, not Anna.” Narime stared at Fyre, who merely smiled in response, then changed the subject.

  “As I was saying earlier, my lord. Is this Ciana? I’ve heard a lot about her. She really does look quite like me,” Fyre chirped.

  Both horsegirls sat opposite each other. Nathan didn’t need to imagine the tension between them.

  “One of you is a unicorn,” Nathan said, trying to defuse the issue. “And you’re both very different in the ways that count.”

  “She’s going to become your Champion?” Fyre asked. Her voice wavered.