by Mike Truk
“Very good. Dismissed.”
The sergeants and corporals strode out of the room with a purpose.
“Too much?” I asked, turning to my companions.
Netherys was lounging at the head of the table. “I for one enjoyed the display. Naughty soldiers deserve to be paddled.”
“Not quite how I’d put it,” said Cerys with a smile, “but yes. Good work. Of course, the other captains will wonder as to the sudden espirit d’corps of the Black Wolves.”
“Until I motivate them in a similar manner,” I said, moving to the window. Already I could hear shouted commands as the newly inspired commanders attacked their men. “This ability of mine to just tell people what to do - it’s…. exhilarating. Like that” - I snapped my fingers - “the Black Wolves are going from being a corrupt unit of lowlifes to an inspiring and civic-minded group of dedicated soldiers. Can you imagine what would happen if I spoke to every judge, every captain, every officer in the government?”
“Take a long time,” said Netherys, tone droll.
“And your father didn’t take that approach,” said Cerys thoughtfully. “Has to be a reason for it.”
Netherys examined her nails. “The hands-on approach might be rewarding at first, but surely it takes too much time. Aurelius no doubt found it more efficient in the long run to delegate authority.”
“Or stopped caring about a well-functioning government,” I said.
“That, too,” said Cerys. “I mean, if you had to boil it down, what was Aurelius using his power for?”
I stared out the window at the courtyard below, where bewildered Black Wolves were hurrying about, cleaning away broken crates, collecting weapons where they’d been piled on the floor, chased about by their suddenly fervent officers.
“I don’t really know,” I said, voice quiet. “He didn’t seem to have an agenda in the Star Chamber. The Family, according to Veserigard, was just a means to keep the poor and the city at large occupied.”
“Power is its own reward,” said Netherys. “You are assuming he had goals. Perhaps, once, he did. But he was a long-lived creature amongst mostly humans who live - what - sixty years at best? Each successive generation that he saw born and die must have cut into his attachments, distancing him ever further from the actual people of Port Gloom. I imagine his goals began to seem increasingly academic, until, perhaps, at last, he couldn’t be bothered with them at all.”
“Then why keep living?” I asked. “Why run this whole city like he did, if he didn’t want to accomplish anything?”
Netherys shrugged. “Perhaps he was asking himself the same question.”
“That doesn’t sit right with me,” I said. “There has to have been more to it. All that work. All that effort. Working with this Arasim to put demons in his Aunts and Uncles. There had to have been a plan.”
“Then perhaps Pogo will discover it,” said Cerys. “If anyone can, it’s him.”
I ran my fingers through my hair and nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. You’re right. And if not, then perhaps at least some new lines of investigation.”
Cerys stepped over and gave me a tight hug. “Hang in there. We’re just getting started. There’s still lots of time to figure everything out.”
I squeezed her back, taking great comfort from her embrace. “Time’s something we have little of. Come on. Let’s comb the city for what Exemplars we can find. I want to be back before the captains show up.”
* * *
Turning the wheels of government took far longer than I expected, and night had fallen by the time the meeting room was filled with captains, lieutenants, and cigar smoke. They’d trickled in slowly over the course of the late afternoon, uniformly upset at being called away from their posts, positive that their time was going to be wasted during a critical juncture. Each and every one was intent on giving me a piece of their mind before storming back out.
Yet they found themselves waiting, surprised, till everyone had gathered. I didn’t overdo it. Just a touch of power here, a forceful request there, and against their better judgment they agreed to wait, tacitly respecting my appointed post while still fuming and sending runners with new commands to their posts.
The last to arrive was the militia wall captain, a gray-haired veteran that looked more bear than man, his brows beetling out over his piercing eyes, his chin bare and framed by a luxurious mustache that must have taken decades to grow. Clad in old plate armor, he seemed a relic from a bygone era, taken out of storage for just this occasion.
His presence, however, was vital and powerful, and the atmosphere in the crowded meeting chamber became electrified when he stormed in.
“What by the Hanged God’s luxurious ballsack is the meaning of this?” His armor clanked as he pushed his way through the crowd right up to the edge of the table at whose head I sat, feet propped up on the table. “Do you think I have time to cross the entire city and abandon my men just as those scurrilous bastards are contemplating quitting once and for all?”
“Evening, Captain Drussander. You have my thanks for obeying a direct order from your superior. Namely, me.”
The old man drew himself up to his full height, face darkening, and then slammed a fist down into the table, sending splinters flying. “Damn the Star Chamber, and damn you, Manticora, for wasting my time! There - I have come. And now witness as I depart. Some of us have real work to do.”
“Stay,” I commanded, and the old man stiffened, brow lowering in confusion as he found himself unable to leave. “And let me speak my piece. I am the acting commander of the Port Gloom’s military forces, which means every one of you falls under my authority.”
I pitched my voice to carry and laced my words with enough power to make each of the seven captains believe my words - helped, of course, by the fact that they were true.
“Now, we don’t have much time, because most of the day has been wasted by your laggard execution of my orders. That will change, moving forward. Whatever command I give you will be obeyed with alacrity. Is that clear?”
The wall of faces stared blankly at me, and then everyone nodded.
“Good. The city is in crisis, something you all know too well. Riots, disorder, suicides, and a government on the edge of collapse. Not good. In fact, one might go so far as to say very, very not good. Hmm?”
They stared at me blankly, confused, silenced by my power, no doubt feeling as if they’d slipped into a surreal dream where lordlings wasted their time with impunity.
“Now, fortunately for everyone, yourselves included, I mean to make a real difference with this command. Gone is the time when wealthy bastards such as myself wasted everyone’s time in the pursuit of unearned honors and stolen wealth. We’re actually going to do some old-fashioned guard work. We’re going to mobilize our forces and bring a little order to Port Gloom.”
Captain Drussander shook himself free of his stupor. “And how precisely do you plan to do that, commander?”
“There are centers of resistance that need to be crushed. All of you are aware of the Family, its Aunts and Uncles, its power structure, and stranglehold on the city. Over the next few days, we are going to crush it utterly.”
Stunned silence, and then several captains started speaking at once, protesting, laughing, excoriating me. I sat there and let them get it out of their city. For the most part, they were simply incredulous. But as they realized my intent, their incredulity turned to anger.
“You’re mad,” said one of the precinct captains, a dark-skinned woman whose face had been badly burned long ago. “Take on the Family? That’s not only impossible, but beyond the scope of our responsibilities.”
“Suicide,” said another, a rotund dwarf who seemed wider than he was tall, his hair braided and dyed bright red, his face marred by an eyepatch; a cigar as thick as the Hanged God’s prick was stuck between his lips. “Look, lad, the Family’s untouchable. We operate friendly like, each doing their own thing. Check with the Star Chamber. You’ll hear the same.”
“A
las, the Family’s time in the sun has come to an end.” I stood up. “We are going to utterly wreck each and every Aunt and Uncle’s shit. We’re starting with Kavark, and from there we’ll move on, extinguishing each hold and base till they’re nothing but a memory.”
“No,” said another precinct captain, an old, weathered man who looked like he’d spent his whole life staring into bitter sea gales. “I won’t do it. We’ll every one of us get our throats slit by a Gloom Knight.”
Muttered agreements.
“Well, luckily for you all, we’re killing the Gloom Knights, too,” I said.
“This is a farce,” said Captain Drussander. “The wall militia will take no part in this.”
“Here’s the thing.” I planted both hands on the table and leaned forward. “You will all take part in this, and do your absolute best to execute my commands and accomplish the operation to the very best of your abilities.”
The sheer power in my words seared the air, and I watched as each captain wrestled with the command, wrestled with something they saw tantamount to a death sentence.
Every one of them succumbed.
Powerful old Drussander was gray in the face. “But how? How will we accomplish this impossibility? A Gloom Knight alone can kill a hundred men.”
“We’re not going in unprepared,” I said. “I’ve collected a little band of special forces of our own.” I pitched my voice to carry. “Netherys?”
A door at the rear of the room opened, and a dozen unique individuals filed in, each arresting in their own way.
Netherys came first, easily drawing the assembled captain’s eyes, her walk sensual and feline, her hood back to reveal her dark elf nature. This drew gasps of dismay and shock from the assembled guards, and I realized just how accustomed I’d grown to having one of her kind by my side. To the regular man about town in Port Gloom, a dark elf was anathema, a creature of legendary evil and perversion.
Behind her walked an array of Exemplars, assassins, and notorious blackguards. A combination of unlimited funds promised from the city treasury, along with judicious use of my powers, had made them all eager to be of service. They regarded the stunned captains with obvious contempt, all of them sharing the same low opinion of the city guard and militia.
“Thank you, one and all, for agreeing to help us with this mission,” I said. “Captains, let me introduce the team I’ve assembled to help neutralize Kavark’s greatest strengths. From left to right: Master Hieronymus, an elemental magus; Tarn and Effezia, Exemplars of the Hanged God; Sir Fellhand, half-troll mercenary who brings with him a score of elite warriors of his own; the Bridge Nixie, coaxed out for the first time from under the Bridge of Bones to help us with her illusion magic; the Fickle Warwickle, Exemplar of Blind Fortuna; Blightwort, the much-maligned necromancer of the undercity; Bergemot and Lady Anna, both of whom have taken the Apotheosis Oath and will lend our forces their healing, and three Exemplars of the White Sun: Sir Tuln, Sir Gremory, and Lady Holdfast.”
Each of these remarkable individuals bowed their heads or raised an eyebrow as they were named.
The captains could only gape. They’d probably never thought they’d stand in the same room as even one of these individuals, much less a dozen of them.
“Now, this is to be our plan,” I said, pushing forward a large map on which a rough overview of the Noose was drawn, with major avenues and streets clearly delineated and the complex mess of alleyways guessed at. “We have at our disposal the five hundred militia guards from the wall, almost two hundred Black Wolves, and another six guards that will be drawn from each precinct -”
“But - my lord!” This from the burned captain. “We need those guards to maintain order, if you remove them altogether -”
“Given the current state of lawlessness,” said Cerys, her tone droll, “I’m sure nobody would notice.”
“That gives us approximately a thousand three hundred men. We will divide them into four teams of about three hundred, and approach the Noose from each cardinal direction. Captain Drussander, you will lead half of your forces along River Street here. Captain Rory will bring the Black Wolves and another hundred militia along Bridge Street. Captain Marko, you will bring three hundred guards north from Market Square, and Captain Belarus, you will bring the remainder south from the Snake Head. All four columns will enter the Noose at precisely the same hour when the temples of the White Sun mark the dawn with their bells. The goal is to enter through every available alleyway and street and destroy all opposition.”
Captain Rory leaned forward to study the map. “This’ll be a tough fight, my lord. The enemy will take to the rooftops, will attack us from windows. We’ll be sitting ducks just marching down the center of the streets.”
“True enough. But that’s where our numbers will prove telling. Most of the Family that works for Kavark will flee at the sight of you. Those that stay behind will be his prized enforcers and bully boys. You’ll simply have to swamp them. Enter the homes, climb to the rooftops, and give them nowhere to run. The Noose, fabled as it might seem, is only about six city blocks. We’re pouring over two hundred men into each of those blocks, and you won’t be going alone.”
The Exemplars and mages and half-trolls had pressed up alongside the table to study the map.
“Each column will be led by three unique individuals who will help deal with Gloom Knights, werewolves, or whatever else Kavark throws at us. Captain Rory, you and the Black Wolves will be led by myself and Lady Anna, who will see to our healing. Captain Drussander, your forces will march behind Exemplars Tarn and Holdfast, with the Bridge Nixie providing support. Captain Belarus, your guards will follow Exemplar Effezia, Sir Fellhand and his squad, Master Hieronymus, and be supported by Bergamot. Captain Marko, you’ll be led by Sir Gremory, Sir Tuln, Fickle Warwickle, and Blightwort the necromancer.”
The captains regarded the individuals assigned to them, and I nowhere saw immense relief or newfound confidence in their mission.
Not that I could blame them. To a simple guard, the likes of Blightwort or Fellhand were the stuff of nightmares, while the Bridge Nixie was considered more an urban legend than a real being. While the Exemplars of the White Sun and Blind Fortuna might find more acceptance, and the Sworn Lady Anna and Bergamot would be most welcome, the natural dread of the Hanged God would shake the morale of the guards almost as badly as Blightwort.
Luckily I didn’t have to count on their morale.
“The goal of course is to meet in the very center of the Noose at the Bloody Knot, where Kavark maintains his base of operations. Once there, I will lead the elite members of each column underground to deal with Kavark himself, with the guards continuing to suppress any dissidents on the surface. I anticipate it taking about half an hour to march into the center of the Noose, which means keeping an ear out for the half bells. Once Kavark is dead, we set fire to the Bloody Knot, sweep back out, and come home in time for breakfast.”
I smiled brightly at all those assembled and saw skepticism on nearly twenty faces. “The Family’s reputation is a dire one, but they’re not unbeatable. Right now they’re as much in disarray as their streets themselves; Kavark will no doubt see us coming, but if we move quickly and efficiently, we should be able to occupy the Noose without much effort. With the Bloody Knot burned to the ground and his forces destroyed, even if he escapes he’ll find himself defeated.”
“We don’t have any choice in this matter, do we?” asked Captain Drussander.
“No,” I said. “You don’t. We’ve about ten hours before the dawn bells. That’s ten hours to prepare your men and to be in place. I suggest you gather with your respective teams, introduce yourselves, establish chains of command, and get moving. And remember: tonight will be remembered by all of Port Gloom as the night it began to take back the streets from the criminals who have ruled it for too long. You may be skeptical, you may not think it will work, but come morning tomorrow you’ll understand that everything has changed. The Family’s time has pas
sed. The future belongs to the people.”
My words were stark, and I wasn’t trying to earn any cheers, but the power in my words fanned the faint embers in each breast so that I saw resolve solidify, jaws clench in determination, and more than a few nod their grudging agreement.
“We’ve got a long night ahead of us,” I said. “Let’s get to work.”
Chapter 5
It was hard to believe the moment had finally arrived. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined how much work it took to assemble an armed force of city guards in a single location in the city, much less to coordinate the arrival of four different groups, from across every precinct and the walls themselves, to prepare for our assault.
Were it not for my King Troll powers, it would have been impossible. But after long hours of commanding an endless number of bureaucrats, guards, messengers, and sergeants to do exactly as I told them, the great and ancient machinery of Port Gloom’s armed forces finally rumbled to life. Precincts across the city emptied themselves of their men, each wearing the best armor available - which in some cases wasn’t that impressive at all - along with short swords and large shields for dealing with rioters.
And at long last, here we were. I stood in the center of Bridge Street, that broad avenue that ran south from the New Bridge to the great Market Square. Its breadth was clear of carts and traffic, though numerous faces watched us from countless windows. About three hundred armed men and women stood in ranks of ten behind me, their files ragged, their morale teetering on the edge.
A day ago they’d been content with doing very, very little. Now? They were being ordered to march into the densest hive of villainy in the whole city, where no guard had set foot in decades.
I couldn’t blame them for being nervous.
Still, I’d done my part, walking up and down their lines reassuring each guard I passed, firming up the ranks, till the exterior of the group was dead set on accomplishing the mission. Their certainty solidified the more nervous center, and the sight of Pony up front caused the city trolls to toughen up as well.
