Disregard Fantasy, Acquire Currency 1, page 24
part #1 of Disregard Fantasy, Acquire Currency Series
“And how is that?” Dirk pressed.
“You involve someone that everyone dislikes even more than you, so that you can look better by comparison,” Willem said, with a raised finger. “Let’s just say they’re not the only people that can invite problematic guests.”
***
Viviene and Petronella sat side by side in the cathedral, both of them facing toward the tree sculpted in the shape of the goddess.
“Are you certain about fighting Willem’s duel for him?” Petronella asked Viviene. “Not to mention how it might play out—a mother stepping in for her son—there’s also the simple matter that you might lose.”
Viviene shook her head. “I can’t lose. It’s simply not a possibility that exists.” She turned her good eye in Petronella’s direction. “I get the sense that you know a lot of things. The people I’ve seen coming and going from this place… you’ve got a stranglehold on the city.” Before Petronella could say anything, Viviene raised her hand up disarmingly. “Don’t get alarmed—I don’t care too much. I just want your help.”
“Then I’m glad you came,” Petronella said. “If you hadn’t come to me, I would’ve come to you.”
“What’s between you and Willem, anyway?” Viviene asked. “What did he tell you about the gravestones?”
“Only that they’re there… and that they bother him,” Petronella admitted begrudgingly. “As for what’s between us… I’m not sure. He’s been frustratingly vague.”
“Well, good.” Viviene nodded. “To be frank, I don’t trust you. I know people, and I get a vibe from you. Met plenty of you in Valdérie. You’re a succubus. You latch on to people, you suck them dry, and you leave them bleeding. You’re gravitating toward Willem because he’s hurt. You smell blood, smell opportunity. But I’ll admit… I think I could use the help of a nasty piece of work like you.”
Internally, Petronella’s evaluation of Viviene went up a great deal. Externally, though, she tried to look hurt, and said, “I’ll just have to prove myself with my actions. But… I think perhaps you’re misunderstanding something. You’d still be scrabbling in the dark with Willem without me. You’re off base about me, about my intentions. I’ve been nothing but sincere with Willem.”
“Enough. Squabbling is pointless.” Viviene shook her head. “How are we going to make this go perfectly?”
Petronella smiled. “I’ve had a few ideas.”
***
Arend ran the sharpener along the length of his longsword as he sat on his bed.
“How do you think the duel will go?” Dorothea asked him, sitting opposite him on her own bed.
Arend barely looked away from his sword as he said, “It’ll be close. I’m at a disadvantage, practically speaking. Willem uses a greatsword, while I use a longsword. His weapon can better utilize aura, has a longer reach, and is decidedly more versatile. But I’ve been training against mostly greatsword users in the royal knights, and I’m confident about winning.”
Dorothea hugged her legs. “And if he doesn’t use a greatsword?”
Arend looked up. “Then it’ll be easier. The reason why he beat me so badly is because the Brugh family fighting style counters the Rook family method. It’s best utilized with a greatsword. It’s designed for sheer, raw power. Designed to cut through armies, cleave down castle walls, break any shield. And the Rook aura… well, it’s primarily defensive.”
“So, a lighter weapon would be better for you?” Dorothea questioned.
“If he uses a longsword, it’ll be a little better, but not by much. A short sword or a rapier, it’ll be a blessing.” He shook his head. “But Willem’s not stupid. He’ll fight me with his greatsword.” Arend paused his sharpening. “You want a metaphor?”
Dorothea didn’t, really, but she answered, “Please.”
“The Brugh fighting style is a battleaxe. The Rook fighting style is a shield.” He shook his head. “It all but counters me. Willem in particular? He’s a beast—a wild animal. But I can win.”
Dorothea fell back onto her bed. He’d win, sure. If not because of his skill, because of Petronella’s meddling. She’d arranged things to favor them no matter what. And if Petronella didn’t do things properly… she had her own little something lined up.
***
Viviene walked through the forest late at night, her green aura coursing around her. She lunged, striking the oak tree with her full force. Her rapier sliced clean through. She moved on to the next—slicing, cutting her way through the forest. When, finally, a great rock stood in her path, she threw her arm back, then lunged forth with the full force of her aura and body.
The rapier pierced the rock, driving deep. It continued onward until it reached the hilt of the rapier. She slowly slackened, and her aura faded. Sweat pooled down her forehead as she pulled out her weapon, examining it. It was flawless, undamaged. She leaned it up against the rock and sat down.
She’d done ample research, partly with Petronella’s help. The fact was Viviene was at a tremendous disadvantage against this knight, Arend Rook. The Dubois family style favored speed, accuracy—it punished zeal, overextension, and slow reactions with devastating efficiency. The Rook family aura was like a great wall, designed to slowly press forward and crush opposition.
It was perfectly suited for beating her.
She had been training the strength of her aura, but the Dubois family method wasn’t designed to break defenses. It was made for a different kind of duel than the one she would be experiencing. But the lovely thing about the Dubois method was that it had a much higher range of mastery than almost any other method of utilizing aura.
If I’m skilled enough… I can win. It’ll be difficult… but I can win.
Viviene laughed as she sat there. She’d thought the same thing five years ago. Tielman had taken out her eye not long after. But this time… this time, she was fighting for something much more important to her. She honestly didn’t think that mattered much in terms of her prospects at winning.
But if she lost, at least it wouldn’t feel so damn terrible.
The lumberyard owner walked through the forest, looking around anxiously. “Uhh… ma’am? I gotta say… thanks for the help with all of this. We’ll get them hauled into the yard, get to work on them by morning. You’ve saved us a lot of manhours.”
Viviene rose to her feet, retrieving her rapier and sliding it back into her belt loop. “Thank Willem. He’s the only reason I’m here.”
“Of course,” the man said, nodding his head. “I understand. You’ve been a great help. And pass my thanks to my partner.”
***
Gustav walked through the back gate of his friend’s mansion. The estate guards, having long ago heard that he was coming, gave him a polite nod as he passed and moved the gate back into its place. He looked up at the mansion ahead. It was a four-story building, but the site that this meeting was congregating in was the great hall.
“Here are my terms, Willem…” Gustav muttered to himself, having long ago practiced what he might need to say to get this man off their back. They’d both been dealt their cards, and now it was time to show their hands. On an informal level, he’d been preparing the soap puns, in case the battle became truly vicious.
“What do you think, Willem?” Gustav muttered to himself, picturing the man’s surprised face when he came in. “Don’t I clean up nice? I’m afraid that your plans are a wash.”
***
“So… what do you think, Willem?” asked the owner of the estate, Stephen, as they looked out across the grand hall from the second floor. “Good place, right? My wife worked very hard on the decorations.”
Willem looked around. It was certainly a grand home. True to his word, Stephen’s wife was running about below like mad, trying to make sure that everything was perfect. The central fixture was the grand hall, where two marble spiral staircases led up to the second floor. It was a tall room, and two tables had been laid out, brimming with foodstuffs.
“It’s quite the stately manor, Stephen,” Willem agreed. “I’d like to thank you for spending your time and money for the Society.”
Willem never really did understand why people would host parties. It was much better to go to parties, eat free food and drink free drink, and then deal with none of the cleanup. Why would he ever spend money on food and drink to create a job for himself later?
“It’s been my wife’s pleasure, and my nightmare.” Stephen rubbed his forehead.
“Must’ve been stressful. With the dowager countess and her daughter-in-law attending…” Willem looked over. “With Arend Rook saying he’s going to hold a duel in your home. With Gustav pressuring you to invite him.”
Stephen froze. “Willem… I—”
“Relax, it’s fine,” Willem said. “I wish you’d have come to me, but you didn’t really have any obligation to. Besides… we’re fine. This trouble? It’ll all be gone by morning. But right now? You’re in for an entertaining night.”
“I gotta be honest—I’m terrified,” Stephen said as he leaned in closer. “Is there really going to be a duel?”
“Don’t think so,” Willem assured. “But you never can fully predict these things.”
“That’s hardly reassuring.”
“Let’s just say this,” Willem said, looking at him squarely. “Nobody wants to go to a monthly meeting where there’s a lot of drama and violence. It’s in my best interest for a clean and smooth ending to this thing. And I’ve brought plenty of ribbon to put a bow on this whole thing.”
“Drama?” Stephen shook his head. “I don’t know. You don’t know my wife. She eats drama up.”
“Sometimes… you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do,” Willem said. “No matter who gets hurt.”
Chapter 33
Willem looked at Stephen. “Everyone here?” he asked. “Even the undesirables?”
“Ah…” Stephen scratched the back of his neck. “Yes. Everyone is here.”
“Wonderful.” He patted the man’s shoulder, then walked over to a nearby window. He produced a glowing gemstone, and perched it beside the glass. “Shall we begin with the welcoming speech, then? You lead, naturally.”
“Of course,” Stephen said, smiling. He eyed the gemstone peculiarly, but elected not to touch it.
Willem and Stephen walked to the point where the spiral staircases converged upon the second floor, overlooking the vast amount of guests.
“Everyone!” Stephen called out. “If I could just get your attention, please! Gather round…. Gather round. Take your time—we’re all friends here. Or at least… part of the same society, isn’t that right?” He began his speech amiably.
Viviene, Anne Claire, Catharina… Willem spotted them easily enough. Going off Petronella’s description, he looked around for Arend and Dorothea, but didn’t succeed in locating them. He spotted Gustav, and waved at the man politely. The guildmaster already looked uneasy in the room, but gave a faint nod back at Willem.
“So… I’d just like to start by thanking my lovely wife, Marie, for all of the effort that she’s put into hosting this event today,” Stephen began. “As the second monthly meeting of the Society of Assured Prosperity, it’s my hope that this event can be every bit as grand as the first. There’s a lot of road ahead for all of us merchants and all of our families.”
A large man stepped into the crowd, wearing a humble gray doublet. Willem spotted him at once, and smiled when he saw him. Arend Rook stared up at him fearlessly, quickly moving to the center of the room.
“If I could have all of your attention,” Arend’s powerful voice split the crowd. “There’s something that I’d like to say.”
Everyone in the grand hall turned to look at Arend as he stared up at Willem. He raised a finger upward and pointed straight at him. When he opened his mouth…
A great rumble disturbed the mansion, and all of the lights throughout the entire estate flickered. Everyone looked around uneasily, and even Arend was brought pause. The only one smiling amidst all of this was Willem, who met Arend’s gaze easily. A few moments later, the sound of marching could be heard.
The double-doors leading into the great hall burst open, and a retinue of knights in black and gold armor marched in. The man at the front was garbed in black robes hemmed by cloth-of-gold. He bore a golden raven on his chest and on his shoulder patch. The tremendous staff that he carried was also crested by a golden raven. His hair was white as snow, but he looked only about middle-aged. He had countless scars across his face, and plenty on his hands.
The man slammed his staff down, and an invisible pressure fell upon everyone. Willem could feel it, too—it made him shiver a little.
“I am Archmagistrate Galahad, here under orders of His Majesty the King,” this new arrival said. “Under the authority of the King and his Cabinet, this estate has been temporarily sealed until my investigation can conclude.”
Widespread unease set in throughout the whole of the gathering.
“Anyone that attempts to leave will be assumed guilty of the investigated crime. Due to its severity, they will be summarily executed by me or my men.” As Galahad looked around after this declaration, shocked murmurs instantly filled the hall. “The owner of this estate will identify themselves, and offer full cooperation immediately.”
“T-that’s me, archmagistrate!” Stephen, in a panic, ran down the stairs as fast as he could. “What is this? What’s going on? What crime is being investigated?”
“Treason,” Galahad replied. “In particular, one of the many schemes of Avaria that attempt to undermine the authority of His Majesty. Rest assured… the innocent have nothing to fear. We’re here to protect you, ladies and gentlemen.” Galahad looked back. “Troops, move out! Secure all rooms and exits.”
Willem slowly walked down the stairs. Waiting for him at the bottom was Viviene, who looked understandably uneased.
“Do you know what’s going on?” she asked. “What is this, son?”
“Man was pretty clear and concise,” Willem replied, looking at Galahad. “We’ve got some agents of Avaria among us.”
Viviene seemed at a loss for words. Willem tapped her shoulder as he walked past and moved to the archmagistrate.
“Thank you for coming,” Willem greeted, offering his hand. “It’s an understandably serious matter. I’m Willem.”
Galahad looked at him. “Willem van Brugh?”
“I don’t consider myself a Brugh, but yes,” he said easily. “I’m the one that sent the letter.”
Most present looked at him with a tremendous degree of surprise. Arend, who’d been so gung-ho before, was shocked into silence. Viviene looked worried and off-balance. Anne Claire and Catharina were simply concerned, especially for Willem.
“Provided you can verify what you wrote in your letter under a lie-detecting test, the king’s amnesty is assured,” Galahad said quietly, so no others could hear. “For now, please ensure that people remain calm and orderly as we establish ourself throughout the estate.”
“I’ll do my best,” Willem smiled.
***
When Petronalla had felt the approaching presence of an incredibly powerful mage, her first thought had been that they were here for her. She’d known immediately that whoever was arriving wasn’t someone that was sent for small things—they were the best of the best, meant to weed out powerful monsters. And when she’d saw him…
Galahad. The King’s Dog, the Pale Death. He was the one that had been responsible for some of the biggest purges of Avarian espionage efforts in the history of espionage efforts. He was one of the strongest people in the kingdom—the world, even. And he was here, in Gent.
But Galahad hadn’t gone to her church, or to her. Instead, he’d walked right by her… and into the estate where Willem was hosting his party. Things clicked into place, then—the final pieces of a confusing puzzle making sense.
Willem had told her to arrive late to protect her. This was his plan, his idea to bring Galahad here. There wasn’t a shadow of doubt in her mind that everything she had going in Gent was ruined. The King’s Dog would find her people like a bone buried in the yard, tear them up, and toss them out. If Viviene had been capable of noticing, it’d be child’s play for someone like Galahad.
But… Willem had still protected her.
He just as easily could’ve had her within that hall. She practically invited herself to walk into that trap, and he’d gone out of his way to ensure that she’d stayed out.
Why?
Willem had seen her form. He knew what she was—a foul beast, a monster. But rather than catch her up in this trap that he’d laid, he elected to keep her away, keep her safe. Perhaps it was out of debt for the service that she’d done him. She almost hoped that it was something more. Friendship, perhaps, or the hope of it.
Regardless… she wouldn’t waste this opportunity to get out of here, before things blew up.
***
When Willem was finally freed up, he was immediately approached by all of the old Willem’s family.
“Willem—what in the world is going on?” Anne Claire, the most forceful, demanded of him. “Why is Galahad here? What did you do?”
“You owe us answers,” Viviene said. “You don’t think to breathe a word of this to me, to all of us?”
“Don’t worry. This here? It’s just a government bailout,” Willem said, pointing with his thumb. “Happens to all rich people whenever they have problems beyond their control.”
Everyone stared at him blankly, and Willem sighed.
“I told you that I fought another way,” Willem pointed out. “Didn’t want you to trouble yourself on my behalf. For instance… putting yourself at risk.” He looked at Viviene pointedly.
Viviene crossed her arms uncomfortably, while Anne Claire noted, “You knew something about this?”
“Look, I was going to hire a regular lie-detecting mage to snuff out Arend’s plans in their infancy. But… they were expensive.” He gestured. “This man? He’s doing this for free. It’s his job. All that I did was get a good deal.”
