The Right to Choose

by Andrey Vasilyev

  That bastard Ort couldn’t have been the only one to know anything; there had to be other servants of the Departed Gods in Rattermark.

  “I think he must have used ancient, forbidden magic in his search,” Aidus blubbered. “Probably, something like Guiding Star. But he’s gone, and nobody will ever know the truth. That’s okay, though. Just live your life, boy; the dead don’t like it when you meddle in their affairs, especially when they’re gods…”

  The dead. Wait a minute, that’s not a bad idea. My black brother, I thought, could be much more helpful than the Wild Hunt, if only because the situation had changed. We were talking magic, and that meant I needed to go find a master of that particular art. The harsh Northerners were better acquainted with the blade.

  “Thanks, good Aidus,” I said to the mage, who was lost in his thoughts. “Have a great holiday.”

  New status for Sanctuary.

  You learned who could shed light on where the land of the White Light is.

  You learned how many places of power there are.

  The reward changed.

  A reward was added: Ancient Map Fragment

  Ah-ha! I was on the right track. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gotten a message like that. Thanks, Stavros, or whoever wrote the quest.

  “Well, what now?” Brother Mikh asked.

  “Back to the castle.” Sadly enough, there was nothing left for me to do there.

  And not just there; until it got dark, I couldn’t do anything else. That’s all right; I’ll go take a nap.

  “Are we going to take our fine-smelling friend with us or forget about him?” Brother Mikh asked.

  “We’re going to say that that woman did us a favor,” I decided after taking a few seconds to think about it. “She can keep him occupied for a couple days, and we’ll get a break. It’ll be noisy enough in the castle tonight.”

  “Good choice,” he replied. “He’s been awfully aggressive, too, lately. As soon as his stomach’s full, he goes off and picks a fight with the hillmen. I think he needs something to do.”

  “We could add him to one of the diversionary groups and let him have fun killing MacPratts,” I said as I pulled out a portal scroll.

  Sorry, lovebirds, but you’re going to have to wait. I knew I could come back to them later if I had time.

  ***

  “Not enough ornaments,” was the first thing I heard when we arrived in the main courtyard.

  My sworn brother Lossarnakh was standing on the stairs looking at the tree, which paled in comparison to what we’d just seen in Holmstag. Still, it was beautiful.

  “Why isn’t there anything on top?” he asked. “You should stick something up there.”

  “Like what?” a gelt standing by a box of simple ornaments asked wearily.

  “You’re in charge of holiday decorations, so think of something. You were told to put something on the top, so put something on the top.”

  “I could sit up there for a little while,” Tren-Bren called, flying over and trying to do the same. “Ow! No, I can’t. It’s prickly.”

  I was happy to see the king there; we had some things to take care of.

  To be honest, I’d been going back and forth on the inquisitor’s quest from the moment I’d gotten it. On the one hand, the reward was a good one. On the other…there was a problem—one very unpleasant issue that could up and destroy everything we’d been working on. As soon as the College of the Inquisition gained official status in the Borderlands and word got around, everyone—including the Lords of Death, who couldn’t wait to bring it down—would be on their way, with us right in their path.

  Still, the upside was better.

  “Lossarnakh, I have something to talk about!” I called to the king. Having given his orders, he was about to head back into the castle.

  “Hi,” he waved. “Something important?”

  “Pretty important,” I nodded. “An affair of state.”

  Lossarnakh smiled. “Oh, yes? You didn’t pick the best day for that. It’s a holiday, right?”

  “Serving the Borderlands crown never ceases. You can’t complain once you’re in.”

  “Okay, okay,” Lossarnakh replied, his face turning serious. “Shall we head into the throne room or would you like to talk right here?”

  “Here is fine. Clean, fresh air, snow out… Just wait one second.”

  I looked around and cut loose a roar. “Tren-Bren, come here!”

  A sound broke out above us, and the fairy swooped down. She’d added small, possibly, even black-gold deer antlers with bells on them to her outfit. It matched the cloak, with sparks running around the collar, and new silver boots with a funny stitching pattern.

  “Sweetie,” I sighed. “Where did you get all that? Begging?”

  “Yeah, right!” she shot back indignantly. “Brother Herts gave me the cloak, though Brother Yur gave it to him to give to me. You know, the gray-haired old guy from the order? The boots—”

  “I gave them to your daughter,” Lossarnakh laughed. “I’m not sure what to get little girls, but my father gave ones like them to my sister, and she liked them. So, I—”

  “I like them, too,” the fairy cut in, brandishing a leg and showing off what really was a good-looking boot. “Thanks again!”

  “No problem.” Lossarnakh was obviously pleased. “Enjoy wearing them.”

  “What about the horns?” I looked closer at the bells and noticed to my surprise that they were made in the shape of skulls. “Who gave them to you?”

  Her eyes shot up as far as they would go in an attempt to see what was on her head, and she rang the bells. “I found them in my room when I went in there an hour ago. They’re so cool! They even came with a note—To the daughter of my brother from Uncle S. Grow big and strong! Who’s Uncle S.?”

  “A distant relative,” I replied, noting to myself that it was true; speak of the devil, and he’ll appear. “Does it have good attributes?”

  “Sort of,” she said as she shook her head. “A little of everything. They were made by old masters, though. At least, that’s what they say.”

  I wonder, which of the baron’s graves did he pull it out of? Eh, whatever.

  “Basically, they respect our family here in Rattermark,” Tren-Bren said proudly. “As well they should.”

  I certainly had some vanity of my own, but she left me in the dust.

  “Don’t let it go to your head,” I said, shaking a finger at her. “I have my eye on you! Oh, and look around here. Do you see any enemy spies? I mean, right where we are.”

  The fairy flew up, sniffed, and shook her head. “Nope.”

  I rubbed my hands together. “Excellent. Okay, fly away and find yourself something to do, but make sure you keep checking around this area just in case.”

  “I assume I’m not allowed to hear your secrets?” the fairy asked, making a sad face.

  “Of course, not. Although it’s not going to be interesting. We’ll be talking about the economic and political development of the kingdom.”

  “Oh, no, that’s not for me,” the fairy yawned. “Hey, a bear!”

  She flitted off toward the entrance, where a bear really had walked in on its hind legs. It looked like wandering musicians had arrived in the castle.

  “So, what did you want to talk about?” Lossarnakh asked, looking away from the bear and staring at me.

  “Land.” I sat down on the parapet. “Do you remember the agreement you signed with the inquisitors when we moved here from the village? The one about peace, friendship, and military aid?”

  “Of course,” the king nodded. “Wait a second. You weren’t at the council, were you?”

  “So, what?” I asked in surprise. “You don’t have to be everywhere personally to know what’s going on. But that’s not important. About the land—that was a good decision, and it’s time to make it happen.”

  “Well, it’s not that simple. There are some issues,” Lossarnakh hemmed and hawed. “They’re slowing things down�
��”

  “The two things that slow stuff like this down are the economic factor—a lack of funds—and the human factor—idiots,” I broke in. “On your end, everything’s fine. You’re no idiot, and you have the lands that are the main point of the whole issue. What’s the problem?”

  “Well…” Lossarnakh obviously wasn’t enjoying the conversation. Weird, what’s up?

  “What’s wrong? Are you feuding with the inquisitors? You don’t want to give up the lands? What is it?”

  “It’s all fine with me!” he burst out. “I just think I’m in no position to give lands away that aren’t really mine yet. I haven’t been crowned king, there’s a war going on, and I could be killed soon.”

  “You’re a terrible strategist, Your Majesty,” I replied, even spitting. What’s with the idiotic manners the monarchs around here have?

  Lossarnakh looked down. “Why do you say that?”

  “It’s simple.” I looked over at the bear. He was standing on his hind legs, his front paws on his face, as he looked in horror at the fairy, who was whirling around his head. Mishka, let’s play! Come on, Mishka! His handlers had already realized their mistake and were trying to figure out how to beat a retreat.

  “By offering the college lands, you kill two birds with one stone: you strengthen your relationship with them, making them fight for you as indebted friends rather than simply allies. They’ll fight for their own lands, their own future, and that’s very different. It’s one thing to kill for a friend, even if he’s a good friend; it’s very different to fight for the piece of land your home stands on.”

  “And the second bird?” the king asked thoughtfully.

  “Strengthening your authority. The fact that you’re giving away lands means that you have the right to do so. The leaders will understand why you did it, but everyone else will conclude that you’re on the throne to stay. It’s politics.”

  “It’s arrogance,” Lossarnakh replied, cracking his knuckles. “That’s what the gelts will think.”

  “Forget that. What is the monarchy? It’s the king ruling with a firm hand backed by armed men because you can’t do it without them. For that to happen, you need a king, as a political entity, who lets simple gelts just go about their lives. You have to have the monarchy for that. That’s what the political side is for, and the economic side only works when you have strong allies who are invested in you. That’s where the college comes in. Simple gelts, when they see who’s standing behind you, will believe in the power of your right arm and join your side. Even if it’s the first time they’re doing that.”

  “I have no idea what most of that meant, but you’re probably right. I need to give them the land, even if it’s right on the other side of the forest.”

  “No, that’s no good. Better, find somewhere far away, out on the border so they can guard our rear. What’s the point in having everyone cramped here together? Plus, they always have people coming and going, and they’ll scare the sheep. Don’t forget that the Borderlands is a livestock-based region, and sheep are what we get our money from.”

  “Agreed. Okay, we’ll do that.”

  You completed a quest: New Stronghold.

  Reward:

  3000 experience

  1800 gold

  +20 to your reputation with the Inquisition

  Support from a college fighting group (can be requested three times)

  Help from a college fighting group to evacuate the civilian part of the MacLynn clan if the MacMagnus clan is attacked.

  Title: Patron

  That was perfect; I was done.

  “Hey, why are you the one asking me? Why didn’t Martin come?” the king asked, straightening his cloak.

  “The old man threw in the towel.” I sighed. “He’s old, thinking more about eternity than what’s right in front of him. Actually, I think Ranien will be coming to talk to you about the land rather than him. You know who Ranien is, right?”

  “A good fighter, strong, agile, great striker, excellent eye; I saw him exercising with a sword, once, and I don’t know who would win if he and I got into a fight, and you know what kind of swordsman I am.”

  “Wow! I never thought you’d say that about someone else.”

  “There’s always somebody better than you.” The king exhaled. “No such thing as unbeatable warriors.”

  A piteous howling broke out in the courtyard. The bear was beating a circle around itself, glancing backward anxiously and trying to get away from Tren-Bren, who was flying after it.

  “Mishka, come dance with me!”

  The owners of the white beast were nowhere to be found, having apparently turned tail in anticipation of when the restless fairy would turn her attention to them with demands for them to sing something.

  “I envy her,” the king said sadly, watching with a smile as the bear started clawing away at the fortress wall in an attempt to break through and get away. “She’s open and direct in what she wants and does. Neither of us can be like that.”

  “It wouldn’t occur to either of us to tease a wild animal,” I grunted. “Or put horns on our head.”

  “You know what I’m trying to say,” he replied, rubbing his forehead.

  “I do. But remember, she’s just a crazy little girl, and she’ll come running to you or me asking for help the second she gets into a scrape. Who do we have to run to? We’re responsible for everybody; she’s just responsible for herself. That’s why you’re a king, and I’m a laird, while she’s just a little fairy. Would you leave that thing alone?”

  The last remark was shouted at Tren-Bren, who had pushed the bear to the point where he was grasping his heart and about to give up the ghost.

  “He doesn’t want to dance!” she called back indignantly.

  “You pushed him so far he doesn’t even want to live anymore!” I barked. “Get away from him!”

  The fairy clasped her hands behind her back and flew away, telling us what she thought of us with every bit of her body language.

  The bear’s handlers appeared from the other side of the gate, grabbed it by the paws, and pulled it away, glancing back warily and obviously cursing under their breath. The bear itself had a hard time moving in that direction, and it swung its head back and forth between its masters as if complaining about the little monster that had scared it half to death.

  “Okay, I’m off,” I said to the king, who was thinking about something. “Lots to do. Hey, have you seen Krolina around?”

  “She was here this morning, and then she went somewhere. You’ll be celebrating with us tonight, I hope? It’s going to be a lot of fun—barrels of wine, dancing, and lots of fireworks.”

  “I can’t promise I’ll be here tonight, but I’ll stop by this evening.”

  Why not? I had to log back into the game anyway, if only to figure everything out with the land of the White Light, and that meant finding one of Fayroll’s many intersections and summoning my black brother. Of course, he wasn’t the optimal source of information, but he knew the most about that type of thing. He’s a disciple of Tekhosh’s, himself, after all.

  Also, I needed to give the king a gift for the holiday. And not just him. On the other hand, I had to wonder if NPCs even liked getting New Year’s presents.

  I had almost hit the button to log out when a Ding! told me I had mail. The mailbox was nearby, so I hurried over.

  Good afternoon, my dear Hagen.

  I’m pleased to wish you a happy New Year, the best holiday of the year, and tell you that I would be happy for you to ring in the New Year with me in our clan citadel. It’s going to be fun, so come, and bring whoever you’d like; we can always find room at the table for friends. They will enjoy our kindness, hospitality, support, and protection.

  About Miurat… If you want to know what I think, I wouldn’t take him up on his invitation. It smells… How do I say this? Dangerous. Radius agrees.

  Again, Happy New Year!

  P.S. Milly Re said to tell you that we aren’t jus
t going to have the feast; there will be dancing, too.

  She was making it clear that Miurat was hunting me, and that they’d hide me away if I wanted them to. Of course, I would have had to sacrifice my sovereignty and accept a role as vassal. A seat at the table was overdoing it; I’d spent too long fighting for my place under the sun to trade it in for a place at the table. Still, it was a good letter. I have a backup plan, now, too.

  I sent a quick reply to the Witch, jotting down a few lines about how I’d stop by if I was able to, and logged out.

  ***

  Vika wasn’t back from her jaunt to the beauty salons and other places that leave normal men feeling uncomfortable. All those wraps, masks…

  A girl I knew walked out of the bathroom after putting one of those masks on, and I’d just finished watching a horror movie. It was dark, the door opened, and a white face with black eyes poked out. She was wearing a long, white shroud, to boot. Needless to say, I did the only natural thing to do: I punched the ghost right in the forehead as hard as I could.

  The shroud turned out to be a nightgown, and my friend spent the next thirty minutes yelling at me as she gathered her things and called a taxi. She slammed the door behind her when she left. What I couldn’t figure out was why she was so mad at me. I explained the whole thing and apologized. It could have, perhaps, been the part where I asked her what she would’ve done if she’d seen a monster like that in the darkness.

  Anyway, I was happy Vika wasn’t back, yet, as that gave me time to run over to the reception desk, get the present from Lika, and invite her to dance the mazurka or even polonaise with me. Back in the apartment, I made sure I had a good-looking, ironed suit—I did, and it was Vika’s doing, as there was already a matching tie hanging next to it—and threw myself onto the bed. I had a long night ahead of me, and it was going to be noisy and nerve-wracking. I could really use some slee…

  Chapter Thirteen