The Conqueror from a Dying Kingdom: Volume 7, page 14
“I voted against it. Ghulah and I both did. Her Majesty and I were close, and Ghulah’s experience in trade told her that Kulati can’t be trusted.”
They must’ve voted in favor four-to-two.
As meek as Kiki Enfillet sounded, I knew she was responsible for ruining the patent system. She’d put pressure on the personnel, ensured that one of her underlings took charge of the Patent Monitoring Office, and generally made a mockery of the system others had carefully developed. Thanks to her, patents filed by aspiring inventors throughout the city had been torn up, and even my own Ho paper had to compete with blatant knockoffs. Maybe all that interference had occurred after votes had been held here as well.
They were a rotten bunch.
“Does it matter?” Luida asked. “The plot itself wasn’t a bad idea.”
“Ha...” Myalo laughed mockingly at her. I’d never seen her laugh like that before. “Let me just say that the plot was pure foolishness. Let’s not forget that you’re dealing with the Papal State.”
She must’ve gleaned that from Lyrica Kuklillison’s reports. I’d made the same conclusion. The attempts to assemble crusade forces at the end of last year and during this year had started within the Papal State. Although the Tyrelme Holy Empire was also passionate about crusades, they hadn’t been actively encouraging a new crusade. It was easy to conclude that the Papal State was at the center of the conspiracy.
Myalo continued, “There was no chance of them honoring their promise. I can tell you that for certain. The Papal State army we fought in the previous war cut up the bodies of our soldiers who’d died on the battlefield, then hanged them. The full list of atrocities they committed in the vicinity of Reforme is endless. If you’d witnessed the war in Kilhina, you never would have even considered such a deal.
“The Kulati don’t even consider our people human. It’s true of all Kulati, but the people of the Papal State despise us the most. Who would think twice before breaking a promise with a wild beast?
“If the Papal State’s broken promises came to light, their reputation among the Kulati wouldn’t be harmed—in fact, they’d be praised for betraying you. I don’t know exactly what your agreement was, but the probability of them sticking to it has always been zero. You failed to realize any of this and celebrated your doomed deal regardless. That level of incompetence is truly exceptional, and it will forever be a stain on the last chapter of witch history. We’re talking about people willing to tear apart this kingdom’s children, and yet you—”
“Myalo.” I cut her off.
“Oh... I’m sorry for getting carried away.”
“I’m sure you have a lot to say, but they’re going to die soon. Your words are wasted on them.”
Although Myalo’s feelings toward witches were complicated, there was no point in speaking her mind now. It no longer mattered.
“You’re right...” she muttered.
“We’ve talked enough. Go on and hold your vote.”
Vivila Marmoset merely glared at me.
“What’s wrong? Aren’t you leading the meeting? Get on with it,” I urged. I couldn’t stand the way she was reluctant to cooperate at every step. I hated dealing with her.
“Let’s hold a vote in accordance with sabbath rules,” Vivila said. “Those who would accept Yuri Ho’s offer and provide him with documents related to our negotiations.”
Four hands went up: Sharun Charleville’s, Ghulah Temper’s, Kiki Enfillet’s, and Luida Gudinveil’s.
“We have a majority. The matter’s settled.”
Three of them hadn’t raised their hands. We hadn’t even heard Jula’s objections, even though everyone else had gotten a chance to speak—not that her opinion mattered.
“The documents are in the safe house on the third floor of my home,” Sharun Charleville told me. “Ordinarily, we’d keep things in this house, but the Gudinveils were kept out of it. The bookshelf with a ‘7’ written on it is a secret door to our safe house. Examine the contents carefully, and you’ll find a lever. Pulling it will open a latch that causes the whole thing to swing open.”
They’d taken thorough precautions as always.
“All right. I’ll look for it later.”
I believed what she’d told me. If she was lying, I’d just have to kill every witch instead.
“Now, how do you intend to kill us? Will you tear us apart with your own hands?” Vivila Marmoset asked.
I’d made my decision already. “There’s no better way to execute a witch than burning them at the stake. I’m going to burn you along with this house.”
I studied their faces as I spoke. Some tensed up, others remained calm, and some reacted with fear. The most extreme reaction came from Jula, but to my surprise, Vivila Marmoset appeared afraid too.
“What’s wrong, Vivila? What’s got you so scared?” I asked.
“Is there something wrong with me being afraid?”
Yeah, something very wrong.
“Isn’t the Marmoset family famous for their torture? I’m sure you’ve sentenced others to deaths far more painful than burning at the stake. And I’ve seen the victims you’ve set free after you’re done with them—destined to eke out a miserable existence in the royal capital to serve as a warning to others. Each one has the same brand burned into their forehead. It’s no laughing matter.
“I would’ve loved to gather them and let them do whatever they pleased with you. It would’ve been quite fitting if they’d torn out your tongue, extracted your fingernails, cut you, cauterized your wounds with fire, and prolonged your suffering up until death. Unfortunately, there’s not enough time, so I’m burning you at the stake. You should be crying tears of joy and thanking me.”
The Marmosets were particularly notorious, but there were instances of the other families doing similar things. Even if they hadn’t murdered members of my family, I’d still want to see these witches dead.
The second worst after the Marmosets were the Charlevilles. They had a tradition of executing people by drowning them in the royal capital’s river. They weighed the victims down in such a way that the gas generated by the bloated corpses would make them float back up. They’d put considerable research into their methods and found a way to ensure that when they killed whole families, the men, women, and children would all surface on the exact same day. When victims emerged as a group, it was clear that they’d been punished by the Charlevilles.
It was astounding that these witches felt entitled to talk about the value of their own family members’ lives after all they’d done to others. It gave me a vague sense that even a cold-blooded killer could have another side to them.
“Youngster,” Luida Gudinveil interrupted.
“What? Got a problem, you old hag?”
I knew she’d done plenty of wicked things herself, but I didn’t want to kill her in front of Myalo.
“No, I don’t have any complaints. But if you’re going to burn down the house, at least get your soldiers to empty out the other room first.”
That sounded like a ridiculous demand. It was as though she was telling me to take the valuables for myself.
“Why?”
“It’s full of treasures from the days of the empire. It might look like unremarkable junk to the uneducated, but every piece had some important role to play in our history. You don’t have the right to burn it all. That collection doesn’t even belong to us—the course of history merely placed it in our keeping for the time being.”
Oh...
“Maybe you’re right. I’ll do as you say.”
She’d just taken the wind out of my sails, but I knew she was right. I had to preserve our cultural heritage. Future scholars would forever curse me if I burned it all.
Luida looked over at Myalo from where she sat. “Myalo, you should look after it all. You’re going to be the leading witch, after all.”
What’s she talking about? “Have you lost your mind, old woman?”
“Nothing’s wrong with my mind. That girl’s a witch, through and through. She might be the most exceptional witch alive, whether she likes the idea or not.”
“There won’t be any witches after today. Don’t you realize that? I’m ending the Gudinveil family’s business. It’s all over.”
The most I’d allow them was to live out their final years quietly.
“It’s not that simple. You know that anyone raised by a knight family will be a knight until their death. Well, girls raised by witch families are witches until their death. I don’t mean it in a bad way.”
What could possibly be good about it?
“If you insist on being a witch, do it alone. Keep Myalo out of it.”
“Her father was a knight until his death,” Luida said while looking at Myalo.
Her father...? What’s she talking about?
I looked at Myalo and, for reasons I didn’t understand, saw her staring back at Luida, her face full of emotion.
“Listen Myalo, it doesn’t mean you’re going to be like us. Witches have served many different roles through the ages. Now it’s up to you to be the witch you want to be.”
“As you wish, dear grandmother.”
What? Dear grandmother? Is that really what she calls her?
“Youngster, I’ll be retiring with the others. It’ll end the current era of witches.”
Retiring? With the others? Does that mean...? Didn’t she come here for entertainment?
“Don’t tell me you came here to die, old woman.”
Given the risk of becoming another target for my anger, I’d thought Luida had been stupid for showing her face.
“That’s right. I’ve done so many wicked things that I don’t dare face trial for them all. Spare me now, and I’ll only be a burden on my descendants.”
She had a good point.
“But I’d prefer something less painful than being burned alive. And death by the sword would be too dull. Use a rifle. I expect it’ll be a quick death.”
Though she was making demands for her own execution, conveniently enough, we had a firearm with us.
“Someone outside has one... But are you sure?”
“Today’s a good day to end on. I’ve looked up to this lot since my youth, and now I finally got to look down on them. I’ve lived long enough already. I’ll die without regrets.”
Luida might not have regretted anything, but I was concerned about Myalo. “Killing you now would certainly suit me, but...”
“It works out well for the girl too. This way, the Gudinveil family can prosper.”
I hated to think that I was going along with Luida’s plan, but I couldn’t argue.
“Now tell your soldiers to carry the items out. I doubt you have much time to waste.”
“All right, I will.”
I went to call on the soldiers waiting outside.
✧✧✧
Once the items had all been moved out, nothing remained in the adjoining room besides a few empty shelves.
The number of things in the main room, however, had increased.
Beneath the table lay a large pile of firewood, which had been cut into small pieces with some twigs and dead leaves thrown in. It was ready to burn.
We’d also placed the witches, still tied to their chairs, on top of the table.
I approached Jula Lacramanus from behind and undid her gag. This was her last chance to speak her mind. I knew she’d have a thing or two to say.
But even with the gag removed, Jula merely glared at me, wordless and full of hate. I’d thought that all the abuse she’d received from her fellow witches must’ve turned her into a shadow of her former self, but she clearly had some spirit left. Maybe the dagger to the leg had restored her to her old self.
I put my hand under Jula’s jaw and held her face still so I could examine it. “This brings back memories. That wound on your cheek never did heal, did it?”
Jula didn’t reply.
“Yuri, there’s something I forgot to mention,” Sharun Charleville spoke up. “If you’re assuming that we approached the Papal State with this plot, you’d be wrong. It was Jula who brought the plan to us. She said a Kulati approached her.”
So that’s how it started... I didn’t know whether to believe the old woman, but if the Kulati had chosen Jula out of these seven, I doubted it had been by chance. They’d naturally approach whoever had the biggest score to settle with me. Needless to say, they’d need a thorough understanding of the goings-on here in the royal capital before they could make that choice.
I guess I’d better question her about it.
“I’m glad you told me,” I said to Sharun. Then, I asked Jula, “How did you communicate with them? Is your contact still here in the royal capital?”
Jula’s lips remained sealed.
“It’s not like you owe them anything. It’ll be easier if you talk.”
“Don’t be stupid. Why should I talk if you’re going to kill me anyway?”
“Hah.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Heh... Ha ha ha.”
Even now, she didn’t understand her situation. I’d never known anyone so naive. I lifted Jula’s chair off the table and moved her to a clear space.
“Yuri, let me do it.” Tillet was trying to interfere.
“What? And let you steal my fun?”
Tillet leaned close and whispered in my ear, “That wound in her thigh—I know you avoided the artery, but she’s lost a lot of blood regardless. If you draw any more, she’ll die easily. We’d be better off taking her with us and stopping the bleeding first.”
Ah. She might be right. But still...
“It’s fine,” I replied. “It won’t take much to break this one.”
Jula wouldn’t save any of her family or loved ones by keeping her mouth shut. She had no real motivation to keep quiet. It was just a matter of pride, and a little pain would make her forget all about that.
“Then use this.” Tillet gave me some folded parchment. It was the same packaging apothecaries used for powdered medicines. “We normally throw it in an opponent’s eyes, but it’ll cause extreme pain if you sprinkle it over her wound.”
“Got it.”
I took the package from her and carefully opened it.
It was fine-quality parchment, scraped clean until it was thinner than Ho paper. It was the sort generally used in books that needed a lot of thin pages. Letters and contracts, on the other hand, used thicker parchment for the sake of robustness. The inner surface was wax-coated and held some minute granules. An extremely fine powder like this was ideal for throwing into someone’s eyes.
As I examined the substance, Tillet tied Jula’s arms behind her back.
“What are you doing?! If you’re going to kill me, then get it over with, you savages!”
She really was energetic. After losing everything and having the other witches turn against her, it was like she’d returned to her old self. It made me realize that some people never changed deep down, no matter what they went through. That only made it easier for me.
I sprinkled a little of the powder onto the wound in Jula’s leg.
“What are yo—Aaarrrgghh!” Jula screamed as pain shot through her. “It’s hot! It hurts! Ah, aaaarrrrgh!”
As she screamed, she went half mad, desperately throwing her body from side to side as she tried to endure the pain. It was worse than a little salt in the wound—it had to be some powerful acid or alkali. I had to wonder how it was made.
“Stop! Get it off me! Get it off!”
“Talk.”
“I will, but get it off me!”
How’s she expect me to get the powder out of her wound anyhow?
“Fine, I’ll put it in your eyes next.”
I moved behind Jula and wrapped my left arm around her head to hold it firmly in place. With my right index finger, I forced her eye open while holding the parchment close.
“Stop! I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”
Don’t tell me she cracked already?
“Then talk fast.”
“A man named Luke Moretto on the seventh block! An exile!”
“Liar.” I poured the powder into Jula’s eye.
“Ngh! Graaaarrrrgghh!”
The agony became too much for her, and she used her whole body to thrash around. Her reaction was so extreme that I thought she might’ve clawed out her own eye if her hands weren’t bound. The pain must’ve gone way beyond what she’d felt when I’d put it on her leg, because she was stomping her feet despite the extra damage it was doing to the stab wound—she’d forgotten about her leg entirely.
“It hurts! It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts!!!”
Tillet’s grip on the back of the chair was enough to stop it from falling over, but even that wasn’t enough to stop the chair’s legs from rising off the ground.
After about five minutes, Jula stopped thrashing around and sat there, exhausted. The tears streaming from her eye must’ve finally washed away the powder.
“Now for the other eye.”
“Eeeek!” Jula looked at me, terrified. Her right eye was so red that there was no hint of white left. “Stop! I told you! I said it already!”
“You lied to me.”
“I wasn’t lying! It’s the truth!”
I held Jula’s head firmly.
She resisted much more fiercely than she had earlier. “Stooooooop! Stooooop!” she cried in desperation.
“Then give me the real answer.” I slowly tipped the parchment.
Strangely, Jula didn’t attempt to close her eyes this time. Instead, she kept them wide open as she watched my hand. Either she was in panic, or the idea of losing sight of me scared her more.
“I’m not lying! I’m not lying! I’m not lying! I didn’t lie! Stop!”
I released Jula’s head just as the powder was about to spill from the parchment. It sounded like she’d been honest.
“Ah... Ha... Ha ha...” When I let her go, Jula laughed dryly, like she’d lost her mind. The tension she’d felt, followed by a sudden release, must’ve been too much for her to process.
Stupid woman.
“What was it you said?” I asked her. “There’s no point in talking if I’m going to kill you anyway? You could’ve avoided this if you’d talked when I first asked.”
