The Empress of Beasts, page 11
part #13 of The Wandering Inn Series
“To victory! Now, let’s go tell everyone in Pallass the good news!”
The [Princess] smiled.
“Okay, Erin. You get to break the news. But then?”
“Yeah?”
Erin twinkled at her. Lyonette beamed back.
“You’re getting in the kitchen. We need more food.”
“Aw. But—but it’s a celebration.”
“Yup. Now, get cooking.”
The [Innkeeper]’s face fell. She sighed, looked around, and muttered as she finished her drink.
“I really need to hire a [Cook]. I wonder if Garry’s free?”
——
The party that engulfed Liscor that night was an event in itself. From Erin’s inn outside the city to the rest of it, there was drinking and delight, mayhem, a bit of madness, and happiness and sadness. Triumph and defeat, however fairly done.
But it was done. You could argue about the ethics of it all you wanted, but the legalese of it was that Liscor’s Council had made their decision and since no law actually decided the election process outside of their nomination of the candidates, it was all within the boundary of the law.
And it would be a fight uphill and downhill with a Rock Crab on your back to get the new Council to declare itself invalid. Especially because they were the only body who could do so, short of the High Command appearing outside of Liscor’s gates or a mob essentially overturning the government. Best to take the victory where you could and save your energy for another battle.
That was what Krshia and her supporters had reluctantly decided last night, and the former Council had heaved a sigh of relief when they heard it. The next day, everyone had a late day of it. People got back to work. Market Street finally unclogged of the persistent rallies and people got back to work. After all, the elections were done. And that day, the new Council met in Liscor’s city hall.
With the old one. It was a strange gathering, with eight Drakes sitting in chairs around the rounded conference table where the new Council sat. Especially because of how at odds they had been just a day ago.
There they sat, three Gnolls on one quadrant, Krshia, Elirr, and Raekea, and Lism exactly opposite Krshia, flanked by Jeiss and Alonna, with Tismel and Zalaiss occupying a safety wall between them. Krshia and Lism kept avoiding each other’s gaze—and then giving each other death-glares.
The former Council found it all quite amusing. Half of them were still somewhat drunk, Ulseil included. He felt a huge weight off his shoulders! He was done! And yes, the new Council wasn’t ideal, but they had to deal with dungeons and headaches about monsters and a war with the Humans! He felt ten years younger. The first thing he’d do now—
But there was one last thing to do. Reluctantly, the Drake pulled himself upright and coughed. Everyone in the room looked at him and Ulseil smiled cheerfully.
“Good morning everyone! I’m pleased, delighted, to welcome you all to your new positions!”
“We’re honored, Councilmember—erm, I mean, Guildmaster Greenscale.”
Tismel immediately ducked his head quite deferentially, and the Gnolls and Drakes all nodded. Ulseil grinned happily. Yes, this wasn’t so bad, was it? He’d feared the worst, but it had all worked out for the best. They might be Gnolls and Drakes now, but this Council would work just as well as the old one.
“Delighted, delighted, thank you, Guildmaster—no, pardon me, Councilmember Tismel. I’m sure you’re all ecstatic over winning the election. Now, I think you won’t see the rest of us, the former Council, unless you’ve need of our advice—but it’s customary for the old Council to sit in on the new Council’s first meeting. Sometimes second or third if things have difficulty starting up.”
Ulseil was rewarded by a look of apprehension among the new Council. Yes, there they all were. New to the job and wet behind the…earholes. He remembered what it was like. And the old Council had seemed so wise! He suppressed a smirk as he looked at Yalla and the others and saw the same knowing expression on their faces. Lism coughed. He’d been staring around the rich room in between glaring at Krshia.
“Now we’re here. It feels rather…odd. We won the election. But the process of leading a city—”
He hesitated. Krshia made a sound in her throat and fidgeted in her chair. Elirr scratched at one arm. Raekea patted the belt buckle her husband had fashioned for her. Jeiss leaned back in his chair and Alonna rubbed her claws together, generating a magical spark. Tismel and Zalaiss looked at the old Council apprehensively.
Yes, that was the thing. They’d spent so long campaigning that none of them had ever stopped to think about how to run a city! Ulseil tsked internally. It wasn’t all fun and games, was it? He decided to show a bit of mercy and smiled.
“First things first! Please, direct your attention to the most important thing you’ll encounter today!”
He pointed to the far wall. Apprehensively, the Drakes and Gnolls turned. Ulseil beamed as he got up and strode over to the table. There was a pause. Jeiss frowned.
“Are those…?”
“Snacks! Please, help yourself. They’re very fine. They come by way of Invrisil. A Council meeting cannot run without snacks. We always have some sent up, although you’ll have to find your own sources. Candied nuts, anyone? I broke out the last of our stash.”
“Ooh, Ulseil. You [Rogue]! You’ve been holding out on us!”
Yalla exclaimed. She and the old Council got up and immediately began circulating the table, quarreling good-naturedly over the treats, which ranged from candied snacks to delicate little deviled eggs—goose, thank you, not chicken—filled with a poignant filling. The properly rich stuff; Ulseil wanted to treat the new Council. He noticed they weren’t getting up. Ah, yes, first-day jitters. He waved them over then decided they’d eat when they relaxed. After a bit, Jeiss got up and snagged a few items, along with Tismel and Zalaiss. When they were all seated, Ulseil went on.
“Now that’s settled. I suppose, we’d better get to the actual work of the day.”
The rest of the old Council groaned good-naturedly, but they put on a good face as former Councilmember Yalla rang the bell. All the Gnoll’s ears perked up and they looked towards the door exactly as it opened. Handy, that. Ulseil saw the Drake who’d been waiting on standby bustle into the room.
Olesm Swifttail’s first view of the room as he hurried in with his scrolls of parchment and stack of reports was eerily familiar. He’d forgotten the old Council would be there, so twice as many people in the room gave him a moment’s pause. But he’d done this for the last Council, so he bowed once, and then his eyes went to Lism’s face. The Drake [Shopkeeper] looked astonished, and then delighted.
“Councilmembers, good day to you. I am Olesm Swifttail. You may have met me before, but in this moment, I’m acting in my capacity as [Strategist] of Liscor. I welcome you to your positions—”
“Young Swifttail is our [Strategist]. He delivers all our information and gives the morning briefing. He’s also the one who you’ll see the most of; I imagine Watch Captain Zevara might be here later as well, but Olesm is the one who handles most affairs.”
With dreadful timing and a poor whisper, Ulseil leaned over to confide in Lism. Olesm paused and Lism harrumphed proudly.
“Of course! A [Strategist] to the Council. He never told me he gives daily reports!”
“Told you? My word, you’re his uncle, aren’t you? I’d forgotten! And it’s hardly daily—it’s whenever we meet.”
Yalla leaned over, smiling at Lism. The [Shopkeeper] looked proudly at Olesm and the [Strategist] groaned. This could be terribly awkward. He cleared his throat, trying not to meet Krshia’s gaze. Or any of the Gnolls’. Oh yes, this could be a lot worse than he’d imagined.
“May I continue, Councilmembers?”
“Oh, very wel—”
Ulseil’s familiar, tired wave was cut off by Lism sitting upright in his chair. The [Shopkeeper] smiled widely.
“Of course! Go on, Nephew, er—I mean, [Strategist] Olesm.”
Lism beamed at Olesm. The [Strategist] cringed inwardly for only a moment before adopting his friendly, helpful expression and tone. He circulated the table, relieved that he always brought a number of copies so he could divide the reports among both former and new Council.
The old Council glanced over the reports and almost instantly passed it to the new Council, who began reading as they listened attentively. Ulseil smiled as he listened to Olesm and then observed the new Council’s feverish attention. Hadn’t he been like that? Oh yes, they’d learn all right.
Olesm began with his rehearsed speech, the one he’d given to two Councils before this one. Well, one and a half since he’d taken over halfway through.
“Councilmembers, I traditionally begin each meeting with a small briefing if necessary. I’ll proceed as if the old Council were in session, ah, with your permission?”
“Go ahead! What’s the latest gossip this time?”
One of the old Councilmembers called out. Olesm hesitated, but went on as the new Council hesitated.
“Well then, my first piece of news is that it is more or less confirmed that Manus’ covert operation against the north has been a success. I have the report summarized in front of you, but the damages to Human lands are estimated at—”
“Wait. Manus did what?”
Raekea yelped as she finally caught up to Olesm. She stared at the parchment in horror. The old Council chuckled knowingly as Lism and the new Council sat up.
“There’s been an attack on the north, Olesm? When? Where?”
Krshia’s eyes flickered across the parchment. Olesm raised his claws hurriedly.
“Not an attack? Or rather, it’s not an act of direct war. I’m sorry, I should have prefaced this. Manus ordered dozens of its [Infiltrators] and [Saboteurs] to head north and cause havoc among Human lands. They started fires, engaged in covert assassinations of high-level targets, spread illnesses or simply sowed dissent—”
“I never heard of this! When was this?”
Guildmistress Alonna looked up sharply. The Drake [Mage] stared at Olesm. He winced.
“About one week ago was when I heard rumors of it, Councilmember. And I received confirmation—of sorts—only today. Please understand, all the information you hear here is classified. Not to be repeated as gossip.”
He looked pointedly at Ulseil and the old Council, who avoided his gaze. Yalla leaned over conspiratorially.
“You can be sure it’s accurate, too. Strategist Olesm is quite informative at these little updates. I will miss them.”
“How do you know this happened? I have people I talk to, but they do not mention an attack. There was talk of a drought and unseasonable weather, but an attack?”
Krshia demanded, looking up at Olesm sharply. He coughed, a bit proud at how astonished she looked.
“Your sources might relay that it was an attack, Krsh—Councilmember, or they might not. Think of me as a fact-checker with a bit more insight into current events. I have access to several lines of communication that allow me to make inferences, and I’m well-versed in Drake strategy. No doubt a lot of the attacks will be news or gossip, although it may be downplayed. Some of the events were quite large.”
“Wildfires. Lightning attacks. A Drake assassinating Humans on their land? How can this be rumor and gossip?”
Elirr’s fur stood up as he read the report. He looked up. Olesm shrugged.
“I don’t think the nobility will want to disclose the findings. But let me explain from the beginning. This is what I’ve put together, and the report isn’t wholly accurate, but—”
“It is reliable?”
Lism looked up quietly. He was reading the report, tracing each line with a claw. Olesm nodded solemnly.
“All the Drake cities get news updates from the other cities and any [Strategist] has their…sources, Uncle—I mean, Councilmember Lism! I’m not in touch with all the minutiae of what’s happening, but I do pick up on the big things. So, from the start.”
He took a deep breath. This time both old and new Councilmembers listened attentively.
“There’s been a lot of public chatter on the subject. The long of it is that Manus has launched several attacks on lands owned by the [Lords] and [Ladies] who participated in the siege of Liscor. Lord Tyrion Veltras, Lady Ieka Imarris, Lord Pellmia, Lord Gralton Radivaek…I have a list in front of you as well as estimated damages.”
“A heavy toll. Serves them right!”
Ulseil remarked with deep satisfaction. Krshia gave Raekea and Elirr a disturbed look. Lism was biting one lip. Jeiss raised a claw.
“How do you know it was Manus, Olesm? Er, Strategist?”
Olesm paused.
“Well, firstly, the nobles managed to fight off the attack and kill or wound some of the assailants. When they demanded an explanation from the Walled Cities, Manus, ah, replied to the allegations by claiming that the reports of Drakes were probably ‘unusually active Wyverns migrating north’. That’s a code. That means they sent True Oldbloods to launch the attacks. My estimates are that most returned safely, but there were about one in six casualties.”
There was a good-natured groan from the old Council. The new one just looked shocked.
“And they did all this without anyone knowing? Those are powerful nobles they attacked! Why were they not spotted?”
Alonna demanded. Olesm shrugged.
“Manus has a number of agents, Councilmember Alonna. They’re quite skilled and the Walled City can supply them with artifacts. If they’d tried to enter a populated city through the gates, they’d have been caught, but they worked from a distance. As it was, some of the nobles managed to fight off the attacks. As did the rumored [Emperor]…”
“[Emperor]? You mean, that’s not just rumors?”
Olesm took a deep breath. He’d forgotten how it worked. The new Council always had questions. He patiently explained the rumors about Laken Godart, and then gave everyone a summary of the factions supporting Tyrion Veltras—and the split between him and Magnolia Reinhart during the siege. He’d forgotten they hadn’t listened to the reports the old Council had. And the new Council was refreshingly serious; the old one kept eating, rolling their eyes at the explanations Olesm had hammered into their heads.
“All of this, and for what? Liscor? They never even got to the city in time, but they’re launching an attack that might have repercussions for us. Were we even consulted?”
Lism muttered angrily. Krshia was frowning too, looking worried. Olesm could only shrug, but Ulseil waved a claw.
“The Walled Cities take their own action, Councilmember Lism. Don’t worry. The main thing to ask is this. Strategist Olesm. Will it affect Liscor?”
“Well…no. Not immediately. I predict that the Humans will take offense and maybe seek to retaliate via sanctions or covert action of their own. Maybe hire [Pirates] or mercenaries or so on. But after Magnolia Reinhart’s schism with the other nobility, there’s not enough political consensus or will to launch a second attack, much less unprovoked.”
The new Council sighed in relief. The old one sat back, unconcerned.
“There. You see? It’s just news. No need to worry. This is usually just good for gossip—”
Ulseil hesitated as Olesm glared at him.
“—among family and personal friends. Highly confidential, of course.”
“I…see. Go on, then, Olesm.”
Krshia exchanged a glance with Elirr as Lism waved his nephew on. Her mind was already spinning. She’d had some idea that Liscor’s Council was well-informed, but this? She was wondering if she really had what it took to be on this Council. Let alone run a city. She listened as Olesm went on, trying to suppress the butterflies in her stomach.
“Let’s see…the army has concluded its defense contract with Oteslia and is moving west. They may be looking for work around Fissival—there’s a standing dispute between the cities of Grailhess and Veish that they might want to seek out, although both cities have fairly powerful armies, so the High Command may prefer work fighting against the Gnoll tribes in the plains. There has been a number of incidents between Gnoll tribes and Drake cities of late—”
“One tribe.”
Raekea muttered that. Olesm paused.
“Excuse me? Um, Councilmember Raekea?”
The Gnoll [Armorer] glanced up. Raekea hesitated, but Krshia and Elirr were nodding. Elirr broke in, growling softly.
“It’s the Woven Bladegrass tribe. Not tribes. Their new Chieftain is young and she’s fought against Drakes before. Her tribe is good at fighting too.”
Everyone blinked at the Gnolls. Krshia looked around, eyebrows raised.
“That is common knowledge, yes? Among Gnolls.”
She looked at Olesm for confirmation. He half-nodded and glanced at his parchment.
“I had no idea. I mean, yes, the incidents would make sense if it was a single tribe. Woven Bladegrass? Let me make a note…ah, ahem. I bring it up as a matter of security. Obviously some of this doesn’t affect Liscor, but it could lead to a larger conflict.”
“It might.”
Raekea looked darkly at Krshia. The Gnoll nodded, but raised a furry finger. Now wasn’t the time for Gnollish politics. Olesm continued, a bit off-kilter.
“Well, aside from the war with Tiqr, I have no notable news of immediate concern for the Council. As I’m sure you’ve heard, several nations from Chandrar have launched an attack on the King of Destruction’s allies, including the nation of Tiqr. The fighting has gone on for weeks now, and Tiqr has been forced back and back. They’ve held on well, but my estimate is that they’ll fall within the week if the King of Destruction doesn’t act in some way, which would violate his pledge not to do so. Er, that’s about it.”
He looked at Ulseil. The former Councilman nodded.
“The daily briefing is always about issues that concern Liscor as a whole. Apparently the King of Destruction is always pertinent news, which makes sense, I suppose. But the wretched fellow hasn’t done anything but conquer one, two kingdoms? He’s hardly the threat he was. Still, better safe than sorry. That’s our [Strategist]. After that, we generally move to some conversation and the day’s decisions. Of course, the table is yours now…”
