Blood of Liscor: Book 8, page 3
part #8 of Wandering Inn Series
She held up a letter. Wiskeria opened her mouth to ask what was in it, hesitated, and turned. She’d wasted too much time, and Laken’s name had reminded her of what she had to do.
“I wish you the best of it. Not that I think His Majesty will receive you warmly.”
“I did request an audience. And his feelings towards me are largely irrelevant. I’m sure I will speak to you later, Wiskeria. Until then.”
Sacra walked calmly past Wiskeria. The [Witch] stared after her, angry, wanting to say so much more, and then tugged her hat’s brim lower on her head.
“Later? Not if we’re all dead.”
Then she strode off, her robes swirling around her. And the Emperor of the Unseen Empire received Sacra on his throne.
——
Of all the people I don’t feel like meeting at the moment, Sacra is probably highest on that list. But I could hardly ignore her request once I got it, so I give her an audience in the meeting hall on my wooden throne. I shift uncomfortably, feeling the smooth, carved eyeball on my armrest with one hand as I scan Sacra in my mind’s eye. She’s a [Maid] from head to toe, without any accessories save for a ring on her finger. No hidden daggers, no concealed weapons I can sense…I still don’t relax. Once the formalities are over, I cut straight to the point.
“I hope Wiskeria didn’t treat you with any hostility?”
“Not at all. She was quite polite.”
Sacra smiles, not at all unsettled by my knowledge of their meeting. I’ve been following her around in my head when I haven’t been distracted, and she’s done nothing out of the ordinary. Still, I have every reason to suspect her and so I’ve put two watchers on her at all times.
I’m also wary of her being alone with me, which is why Durene is standing next to my throne and Gamel and Prost are standing at the meeting hall’s doors. If it came to a fight, I worry that Sacra might beat Durene like last time, weapons or not. But I don’t think it’ll come to that. And if they need to raise an alarm, I’m sure Lady Rie will raise it.
She’s standing just outside the meeting hall. I refused to let her join in. Not because I think she’ll try to steer me the wrong way. I think she might do it by accident. Lady Magnolia manipulated both her and me with ease with a simple letter. I’d hate to know what Sacra could do.
“I’m glad Wiskeria didn’t offer you any offense. Although I can’t say I would reproach her for holding a grudge either. It is slightly unpleasant to look at someone you thought you trusted.”
Sacra’s face doesn’t change one whit. She just gives me a small, meaningless smile, the kind any [Maid] would give a disliked employer.
“I do apologize. But Lady Reinhart thought it would be best that someone you knew deliver her words personally, and I was the best choice. You are, of course, free to eject me from your empire, but Lady Reinhart values courtesy in her friends. Her enemies are free to be as crude as they wish, for as long as they live.”
Was that a threat? Durene makes an ominous sound, but I pat her hand.
“I don’t appreciate the warning, Sacra. Why is it that you wanted to see me?”
Sacra replies without missing a beat.
“Lady Reinhart has observed your reception of the small group of nobles through me, Emperor Laken. She is quite impressed with your guests…as well as today’s demonstration of your trebuchets.”
How does she know about the fae and the trebuchets? Sacra was not invited to either gathering. Still, I’m not surprised.
“I’m glad she’s so invested, particularly considering that she forced all of this on me.”
“She does apologize for the inconvenience, Your Majesty. But trust is a commodity in short supply, particularly of late. Lady Reinhart bids me to inform you that she is impressed with your empire and would like to offer you peace.”
I raise one eyebrow.
“Peace? Don’t I have peace already?”
This time it’s Sacra who interjects a bit of strife into her tone.
“Emperor Laken, please be serious. You know that there is no peace—not between you and Lady Reinhart at least. She has surveyed your lands, tested you, and sent me to observe your qualities as a leader. She has been rightfully wary of you.”
“Why? Why am I so dangerous?”
It feels like everyone’s warned me of Magnolia Reinhart. She’s a cunning monster, a threat, a ruthless tyrant…Ryoka, Lady Rie, everyone’s afraid of her. But what did I ever do to bother her? Start a small empire? From what I understand, Magnolia Reinhart has a hundred times as much land as I do. But it’s Sacra’s response that puts it into clarity.
“Because you are an [Emperor].”
“Ah.”
Sacra stares at me. I sit back in my throne. My throne, where three months ago I was living in Durene’s cottage. Now I sit in my growing village, with trebuchets being built and nobles following me around, trying to curry favor. I can sort of see her point.
“Well, I suppose that would be alarming to a [Lady], particularly one of Magnolia Reinhart’s power.”
“Indeed. But she is prepared to put aside her wariness and offer you peace, Emperor Laken.”
“Peace. You keep saying that word, but what would that entail?”
Sacra spreads her hands.
“An immediate cessation of hostilities. No aggressive or hostile actions towards you or anyone in your domain without formal notification. Recognition of your sovereign rights. Support for your growing empire in the form of connections, trade, political support…”
That sounds good. Good, if a little vague. But I could see Magnolia Reinhart’s acknowledgement helping me deal with other cities, cementing my influence. I lean back in my throne as Durene shifts from foot to foot.
“And what would all of this cost me?”
Sacra smiles, confirming my suspicions. She holds up a finger.
“One request. For the next four months, you will refuse to sell your trebuchets or any other weapons of war to any other party in Izril. You will not gift them or let the secrets of their manufacture be spread.”
I blink.
“She wants that?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. It is a simple request. Afterwards, you would be free to pursue whatever business interests you please.”
I frown. Why would four months matter? I eye Sacra, wondering if she’ll answer and don’t bother with that question. Instead I ask the more pressing one.
“Assuming I did agree, what guarantee would I have that Lady Reinhart would keep her word? A contract? Paper and ink are poor reassurance, I feel.”
The [Maid] standing in front of me gives me a slight frown, as if I’ve asked a truly stupid question.
“Lady Reinhart would hardly trust this to a verbal agreement, Emperor Laken. She proposes signing a binding contract, enforced by magic. It is quite common among the nobility when trust or a grave matter is at stake. It would of course be authenticated by a third party—Wistram, for example.”
“I see.”
Crap, I should have known that was how things would work. I keep my face straight as I think of all this. No selling trebuchets for four months? It has to be too good to be true. I could still build them, refine them, market them to others…why wait four months? What does she get? I mull over the possibilities until I realize Sacra is taking something out of her pocket.
“Hey!”
Durene sees the motion and lurches forwards. Sacra withdraws a small letter and raises her hands.
“I mean no harm. I have a letter from my mistress, transcribed, of course. It is not dangerous in any way.”
“I’ll give it to him.”
Durene snatches the letter from Sacra and sniffs it suspiciously. She clearly doesn’t have any idea of whether or not it’s poisoned and looks helplessly towards me before licking the paper gingerly. I cover my face and try not to laugh as Sacra gives Durene the first genuine look of surprise I think she’s made so far. After a second in which Durene blushes fiercely, she hands me the letter. I lift it and sigh.
“Your mistress does know I can’t read, doesn’t she?”
“She does. But some things are best conveyed formally. I have memorized the contents by heart. If you would allow me?”
Sacra waits until I nod and then begins to speak. I feel Durene peering over my shoulder and hear her trying to read the letter. She’s still on the first sentence by the time Sacra finishes. The letter is short, and Sacra delivers the stunning missive without changing her tone of voice.
To His Majesty, Emperor Laken,
Thank you so very much for entertaining my dear friend Bethal and the other nobles which I so rudely foisted on you the other day. Sacra tells me you handled their reception wonderfully, if slightly unconventionally, and it has put my mind at ease. You have shown tact, deliberation, and restraint, and for that, I deem you to be a rare exception to your class, a delight.
After some consideration, I have decided that I am quite content to suffer your presence on my continent, Your Majesty. And I foresee the potential benefits of a relationship with your empire. But my goodwill towards your empire only goes hand-in-hand with my demands. Sacra has given you my request, and I trust you will agree to it, as this agreement would be wholly beneficial towards you and your empire. Keep your damn trebuchets out of sight.
–Magnolia Reinhart
The silence after Sacra finishes makes me wonder whether I should clean out my ears theatrically or just sit in silence for a while and wait for someone to laugh. But I do neither. I can sense Gamel and Prost giving each other nervous looks, but Sacra waits, as patient and as still as a statue. Her eyes are on me. At last, I raise my head.
“And she wants my response?”
Sacra smiles politely.
“By the time I depart with the other nobility. By all means, take your time to consider Lady Reinhart’s proposal, Emperor Laken. But be sure of your answer by the time I leave.”
Her eyes never waver as she curtsies. I keep my face blank and remain as still as possible. This time I’m sure that was a threat.
Day 99
What the hell does Magnolia Reinhart want? Apparently that question is one for the ages because my impromptu council of diplomacy all agrees that few people ever know what the Deadly Flower of the North truly wants. Magnolia Reinhart can be as straightforward as a poisoned arrow to the chest, or as twisted as a garlic braid. That’s Durene’s analogy, by the way. I had no idea you twisted garlic braids. How do you twist garlic, anyways? Isn’t it a bulb? Or is garlic different in this world?
Prost, Rie, and Durene don’t ever answer me on that. What they do do is argue for over an hour over why Magnolia would want me not to sell my trebuchets—their speculation ranging from her desire to corner the market herself to a suspicion that she doesn’t want nobles killing each other and besieging cities until she’s ready for it to happen—without any real consensus. They agree her outlined terms are good, generous even. They’re only wary of signing any deal with Magnolia Reinhart. Especially Lady Rie.
“The problem isn’t whether signing it would be better or worse for your empire, Your Majesty. The problem is whether or not not signing it would be worse and which option Magnolia Reinhart wants you to pick!”
The [Lady] paces back and forth as I massage my head and try to understand what she just said.
“It sounds like she was fairly clear about what she wanted, Lady Rie.”
“Anything that woman says cannot be trusted!”
Lady Rie grumbles as I sigh and walk around the table in Mister Prost’s home. His house has become something of a planning room for us, and I feel bad for invading so often. Maybe I should make this the official meeting room and give him another house. A bigger one. But there are memories here too. Death, the snow, life…
And here we are, talking about [Ladies] and deals involving magic treaties and empires. I smile and run my hands over something on the table. A map. I can’t tell what’s on it, but I can sense the markers that Lady Rie has carefully put on there for my convenience.
“Interesting map. What do the flags represent on some of the cities?”
“Ah. Those would be the cities allied to you, Emperor Laken.”
“Allied to me? I don’t know if that’s accurate.”
“They offer you goods for protection, respond to your requests for reinforcements, and send emissaries to you, Your Majesty. What else would we call them? Allies? Or perhaps vassals is more accurate?”
I grimace.
“Good point. Alright then, where’s Riverfarm? Where are we?”
“You’re touching our flag, Your Majesty.”
I pause and feel the tallest flag.
“Oh.”
The map slowly appears before me. In my mind I can sense my empire, but the map is different. It skips all the geography and lays the cities, towns, and villages out for me in the plainest of terms. Riverfarm is here, bordered by a forest and river and close to a small mountain.
It’s shielded in one sense, isolated in another. But now it’s growing, connecting to nearby settlements, most of which are ‘mine’. They’re under my protection, within my sphere of influence. But as my fingers move east and north, they run into small, round objects.
“And the stones? What do these represent?”
“Those are the cities and towns that are firmly against you, Emperor Laken. They refuse to acknowledge your claim to Riverfarm or trade with us.”
“Huh.”
I remember getting some hostile letters, but I hadn’t realized there were a number of cities that actively boycotted me. I run my hands over the cities—most far from Riverfarm on the map—and recall what Sacra said.
“Maybe they just don’t trust an [Emperor] who appeared out of nowhere.”
“Perhaps. But they might well be influenced by the other nobles to oppose you. Not just Reinhart—it would be just like her to work through fools like Lord Tourant rather than having to intercede herself.”
“Wait, Tourant has a hand in this?”
I frown, confused. Lady Rie sighs.
“Among others. His touch is particularly tactless; he is an old friend of the [Mayor] of Elkhan—here, Your Majesty.”
She takes my hand and places it gently on a village. I hear Durene mutter something, and Rie lets go. I feel the hard stone underneath my fingers.
“Okay, but what does that give him?”
“Any number of things. Refusing to allow trade caravans through if they’re carrying your goods, refusing to buy or sell…It’s meant to pressure your economy, Your Majesty. Perhaps offer friendly lords a better deal. That goes for military assistance as well. If you didn’t have your Skill and General Wiskeria’s army, it might be cause for alarm.”
Wiskeria. I nod carefully, searching for her with my mind. Ah, yes, there.
“Well, if they want to avoid us they can suffer the consequences. For now, I’m more interested in our ability to mobilize our allies. Say trouble arises, Lady Rie. Can we contact all of these settlements via [Message] spell swiftly?”
Lady Rie pauses for a moment.
“All of the larger cities, yes, Your Majesty. The smaller towns…perhaps not. It depends on whether they have a [Mage] capable of receiving the spell. Most do, but others must be reached via Runner or messenger.”
“Good. In that case we’ll regard all these allies as my assets. And if we sign a treaty with Magnolia Reinhart and trade comes down the main roads…”
I trace my hands east and north, thinking. It would be valuable. And if her name makes some of these uncooperative cities open their gates…I keep thinking as Lady Rie talks with Prost about the pros and cons of interacting with a huge city like Invrisil.
“You may be able to secure enough trade and deals with nobles as it is, Your Majesty. Lady Reinhart does not control every noble of Izril.”
Lady Rie sounds hopeful. I nod thoughtfully.
“True. Something to bear in mind. And of course, that’s what I have to do next, isn’t it?”
I straighten and turn. Lady Rie sounds relieved.
“Yes, Your Majesty. We could debate Lady Reinhart’s…offer later. But for now, I believe every adult [Lord] and [Lady] wishes to speak with you—privately. As do a few of the younger ones. Shall we entertain them in the meeting hall?”
I sigh. This is what I’ve been dreading.
“I suppose we shall.”
——
I meet them one-by-one or sometimes in pairs in my ‘throne’ room. They sit in chairs while I sit on my throne. It’s awkward, looking down on them, and they seem to feel it too. But keeping them off-guard matters, and Lady Rie is there to ensure that she and I get the best deal for Riverfarm.
Not that I know what that is. I do know how to act, just not what I want. So when Lord Tourant comes in hinting about profitable trade deals, or Lady Fel hints that she might be interested in a trebuchet or two ‘for a friend’ and ‘as a matter of discretion’, I play my game.
An [Emperor]’s game. It’s quite simple. They hope to get something from me and dangle bait, offering me things both precious and petty. I respond by offering bigger bait for them.
“Why yes, Lord Tourant, I could see an exclusive trade agreement doing very well between our estates. If it’s an issue of gold, I might be persuaded to buy your entire harvest of—what was it you said you sold? Cotton? Yes, there’s certainly a need, and I’d offer you, say, market price—but that is a large commitment to get into right away, wouldn’t you say? Oh, would you like another cup of wine?”
“Lady Fel, a gift of a trebuchet or two would hardly be fitting. Why not eight? For a friend—well of course this is all hypothetical, but I trust my people to produce them quickly, and I feel that a gift would be appropriate for—what? Of course all eight! A gift of one or two would be miserly, wouldn’t it?”
It’s fun listening to people choke on their own saliva and greed. And promising gold for raw iron is entertaining as well. I don’t have gold. At least, not enough to pay for a tenth of what I’m proposing. But what I have now isn’t the point. It’s what I’m offering. It’s the image I’m creating. And as each [Lord] and [Lady] staggers out of my throne room, envisioning riches and having nothing more than the most tenuous of promises, my perceived wealth and power grows.
