by Pirateaba
I have to shake my head. I know the markers are essential and people take pride in this empire and me, but this? I pick up one of the little totems Jelov’s carved and frown as I trace the etchings on the wood.
“You say people want this Jelov, but how do they pay for it? No one has any money to spare—unless they’re giving you something else?”
It was a hesitant request, but the villagers gladly gave me what little they had. I in turn traded with the various towns for more food, more supplies on their behalf. What was left over Prost insisted was mine, as I ruled everyone. Jelov crabs sideways, and his voice is…shifty.
“Well, y’see your majesty, there’s coin and then there’s a bite of food, some fresher pillows, maybe a scented candle…small things to exchange, you know? There’s no harm in it.”
“Bartering. Of course. But if people need money—”
“There’s time enough for that when we’re all eating rich, milord. Us simple folk just like having something to give and take with our spare time, that’s all.”
Jelov’s voice is surprisingly firm. I hesitate, and then relent and put the half-finished totem down.
“Just don’t let it take too much time, Jelov. And tell people the totems don’t work like they’ll hope. I can’t see everywhere at once and I wouldn’t even if I could.”
“Ah, you say that sire, but didn’t you rescue little Evvy when that old wall collapsed onto her? You were shouting for people to dig her out before we’d even noticed she was missing!”
“That was luck, Jelov. I can’t do it every time.”
“Once or twice is better than none, your majesty. And a bit of hope’s what folk like. Not to mention my carvings look good on the mantelpiece or by the bed.”
“I wish they wouldn’t put them there.”
“Why?”
I bite my lips on my reply. People are people, and I can’t help what I sense. But having an image of a couple…or trio…having sex in vivid details is not one of my interests, thank you. Villagers they might be, but the people of my empire have surprisingly kinky tastes. I could have lived without knowing that.
“Never mind. Why don’t they put them by the windows? That’s a very proper place for it. Far from the bedrooms. Maybe over the mantle?”
“You’d know best, wouldn’t you, sire?”
Jelov twinkles at me and I glumly resign myself. At least there’s no real harm in it, and if people like it—I turn as Jelov lifts up a tiny carved illuminati eye on a round wood ball with a flat base.
“Now this is a little trinket I came up with yesterday. Very small and convenient it is. Perfect for a pocket or as a gift. I’m told some folks are making their own—not as good as mine of course—and sending them to relatives.”
“Wonderful.”
“You think so? I think it could use a bit of color, myself. Do you want one, milord? I could get one painted and all special like. Maybe as a gift for Miss Durene?”
“I’ll think about it, Jelov. Just don’t let your hobby overtake your work.”
Sighing, I leave the [Carver]’s shop behind. Little illuminati totems. And people want them staring at them. What next? Well, next is arguably less fun. I wipe the spit off the side of my face, and then begin the negotiations.
They go well. Riverfarm, or rather, the Unseen Empire might not produce any agricultural goods, or trade goods, or any goods of any kind at the moment, but we’re currently the most powerful force in the area. And because I can see everything in my territory, I can promise safety without it being a lie. It’s funny how much people are willing to offer for that.
Day 78
Word spreads quickly about the Goblin attacks. Two more delegations arrived and another village, Batte, asked for my protection. I couldn’t give it. They were too far away. So the villages decided to come here.
Now the three closest towns and almost all of the villages accessible in a day’s journey are under my protection. Under the protection of the eighty-some warriors and Wiskeria, a [General], but a low-level one. My champion is Durene, a Level 14 [Paladin]. I’m worried. But Wiskeria comes by with a proposal, and it’s such a good plan that we send out messengers that night to each town and village. We have a plan in case the Goblins come in force. I hope we never have to use it.
Day 79
“Delivery for…Emperor Laken Godart? Yes, sir. My name is Thasius Griff. I am a City Runner from Invrisil. I have a delivery—several deliveries for you, your majesty. Do you have a seal?”
I stare at the City Runner in front of me. My eyes drift sideways to Prost. The man shakes his head and grimaces. I look back at Thasius.
“No. Should I?”
“It isn’t required your majesty, but a specialized and unique seal for our uh, wealthier clientele speeds up our deliveries. May I ask you to place your hand on this truth stone and declare your name?”
“Certainly. I am Laken Godart.”
There’s a delicate pause. Thasius coughs. I wait a beat. So, that’s what they want, is it?
“I am an [Emperor].”
“Thank you, your…your majesty.”
After a brief moment of hesitation, the smooth stone is taken back. Thasius steps backwards and fumbles with his bag of holding, a bit more hesitant than before. I tilt my head. I can’t see inside the bag of holding with my [Emperor] senses, so I’m as curious as my advisors around me.
My advisors. That means Beniar, Wiskeria, Durene, Prost, and Gamel. In truth, Beniar’s more of my cavalry leader, but he’s a solid adventurer and he sometimes has good advice. Durene’s here because I love her. Prost and Wiskeria are both intelligent and run my empire. And Gamel’s here because I want him to be here.
“I have—excuse me—I have several gifts from various clients, your majesty. If you will allow me, I will present them one at a time so you may confirm delivery.”
“May I ask who sent each gift?”
Thasius nods. He’s holding the first parcel in his hands, some wrapped, bulky set of objects.
“Each client specifically requested their name be mentioned with their gifts, your majesty. There is no request for a return message, but I will deliver any verbal or physical replies free of charge as part of the service.”
“I see. Very well then.”
The City Runner nods and clears his throat.
“The first gift I have is from the Merchant’s Guild in Invrisil. They offer you their profound thanks for rescuing two of their caravans from Goblin and monster attack respectively, and offer you a small gift as their thanks.”
He unwraps the cloth parcel to reveal…bottles. I frown at them, sensing the liquid inside.
“Forgive me. I cannot see what these ah, gifts are. Prost? Will you tell me what they contain?”
Prost steps forwards and the City Runner offers him the bottles. There’s a moment of fumbling, and Prost’s voice catches.
“These are—healing potions, your majesty. High-quality ones. And this is a—a perfume?”
“Scented oils, I believe. And this one is a potion of Armorskin, a powerful one. I believe they’re the same quality as the ones used by Gold-rank adventurers.”
“We can certainly use them.”
Wiskeria murmurs in my ear. I nod, but keep my face straight. I know my reactions are being watched by Thasius, so I nod while showing little emotion.
“An expensive gift. Please return my thanks to the Merchant’s Guild and assure them that I hope for continued prosperity between my people and theirs. What else do you bring?”
“A gift from a [Merchant], your majesty. Specially scented soaps.”
“Soaps?”
Yes, soaps. Some are clear red, others are light purple, one’s pink…Durene and Wiskeria touch them, exclaiming over them softly so I let them take the bundle. Soaps. Apparently they’re very expensive. And this merchant’s sending them to me as a gift.
Hmm. This time I just nod towards Thasius.
“Please thank your client for the expensive
gifts.”
I don’t mention the [Merchant]’s name or go on. And Thasius notices. And I notice that he notices. Now I think I’ve got the tune of this game, so I go on.
Eight gifts were sent my way, from eight people who live in the general area of Invrisil or nearby. And, coincidentally, each one was delivered at once. Was it the Runner’s Guild who arranged that? Or were the roads not safe until now?
Curious. I recognize two of the gifts as being from the same senders as the letters I’d received over a week ago. I remember thinking hard over what to do with each letter, but I eventually did exactly what I’d been advised to do.
My reply to the various letters I’d received had been uniform, polite denials to their requests to meet. I’d told each person, from the [Merchants] to the nobles that I was busy, invited them to pay me a visit at their convenience and so on and so forth, and expressed my best wishes for the future. I’d signed it simply as ‘Laken Godart’ and not added any titles.
It seemed like the thing to do. Pique interest, keep them occupied wondering what my game was, and move on with the important business while they schemed. And so, after a week of waiting, the next move these powerful figures did was to offer me gifts. And while some were useless, like the soaps and received my scant thanks in return, others were intriguing.
“This comes from Lady Rie, your majesty.”
Thasius has to struggle with his next delivery and for good reason. I blink as he pulls out a long, long, package and small wrapped parcels of powder, tiny vials, and most curious of all—
“Milk?”
Yes, several large jugs of goat’s milk. I stare at the odd collection of items that sits on the table in front of me, and Thasisus explains.
“Lady Rie delivered a short message with the gifts. She understand your majesty is uh—uh—”
“Blind?”
“Um. Yes. So she ordered me to deliver the message verbally. It is as follows.”
I sense Thasius closing his eyes and he speaks slowly and carefully.
“To [Emperor] Laken, I am Lady Rie Valerund of Invrisil. I offer you my greetings and hope that the people you have chosen to protect fare well in these troubled times. I understand you have taken several villages under your aegis, and offer these medicines, ointments, and powders that have been created to ease children into this world. The young are our future, and the taxing requirements of raising them should be lessened if at all possible. I hope and trust we shall meet in the future as circumstances allow. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors, Lady Rie.”
The young man is panting when he finishes. I stare at the gift Lady Rie has sent me. Piles of—of—baby powder? And milk? I can’t help it.
I laugh. The sound makes Thasius start, but then I stand up. For a second I debate making him memorize a reply of my own, but then I relent.
“Please tell Lady Rie that I am most grateful for her thoughtful—and insightful gift. I would welcome a meeting between us and hope I can return her gift in time. I am most humbly in her debt as Emperor Laken of the Unseen Empire.”
Chuckling, I sit down. Thasisus stares at me before scrambling to break the next gift out. That night I share around soaps, candied treats, and other goodies. I don’t really want any of the things myself, and Wiskeria can use the potions. The only thing I keep is three of the soaps. They’re useful and Durene wants to use them. We try the first soap that night and conclude that the soaps are good, but we need a bigger bathtub. A hot tub would be very nice.
Day 80
The trebuchet arm broke, but at least we knocked down a tree. Now, if only we could aim the damned thing. Ryoka said the arm had to be…what was it? A ratio of 1:3.75? That’s really hard to put into practice.
And yet, a trebuchet…I see Tessia’s eyes shining as she fires a tiny, prototype and it sends a rock flying across the village. It’s a good idea. I just have to make sure none of the kids make models of the trebuchet themselves. The stone brained Mister Helm and nearly cracked his skull.
Day 81
Another town attacked. This one fought the Goblins off, but at heavy cost. The attacks are all coming around a mountain far to the east, and there’s a rumor going around that some kind of Great Chieftain of the Goblins lives there. All the better—or worse, I suppose. A Great Chieftain sounds bad, but if they’re further away, it means raiding parties won’t bother to travel this far. We’d have to have something they really wanted for them to attack, and the Unseen Empire’s greatest asset is that we’re poor.
We’re poor. Hold on, what’s moving down the north road? It’s just at the limits of my senses, but it feels like it’s headed north. And isn’t that where…?
Day 82
The attack was sudden, fierce, and came at dawn. Over two hundred and twenty Goblins poured out of the snowy landscape, and twenty six Hobs were leading them. It was a force that might take a town, or raze a village in less than an hour. But it was not a village nor a town that was attacked.
It was a mansion. Nestled comfortably adjacent to a small town, the home of Lady Rie and the Valerund family’s estate was in theory safe from bandits. The magical wards on the walls and the lady’s own private guard were more than a match for any monster or bandit attack.
But not Goblins. A [Shaman] blasted the wards off as the other Goblins swarmed through the town, setting it alight. Hobs cut down the shocked defenders as people fled towards the mansion.
No one made it.
The Goblins encircled the mansion, pounding on walls, trying to break the magically-reinforced glass. One Hob managed to bash through a window, but magefire and a hail of arrows dissuaded other Goblins from entering that way. Too dangerous. Instead, the [Shaman] began dancing in front of the door and the remaining Hobs brought out the battering rams. They began pounding on the doors as the lesser Goblins around them shouted, whipped into a frenzy by the [Shaman]’s dancing and spells.
Inside the mansion, Lady Rie Valerund and what remained of her guard sat and counted weapons. They had few bows, although there was a surplus of arrows for each one. Her servants and protectors were all gripping weapons, but they were only good steel, not enchanted. The Valerund family was not heir to the Reinhart legacy, and their bloodline had been whittled down over the years to one sole member.
The scion of the Valerund blood sat in one of her upholstered chairs and looked towards the captain of her guard. He, a brawny man who’d been an accomplished [Street Brawler] before she’d met him, was injured. Blood ran thickly down one arm before he poured a splash of healing potion on the wound. Lady Rie eyed the bloodstains on her carpet and said not a word about it.
“Have you sent a [Message] spell to Invrisil, to Lady Reinhart?”
She turned to her [Mage], a young man who had attended Wistram but failed to received his mage certification. The pale-faced man nodded.
“I did—but they said that help won’t arrive for hours yet!”
“In which time we shall be dead. And Lady Reinhart?”
Lady Rie’s face was calm. Only one shaking leg betrayed her, but she kept the motion hidden by one of her gowns. Her captain of the guard, the man who’d been known as Geram Redfist, looked at his mistress and then away. The young [Mage] gulped.
“She—was unavailable, my lady. I tried and tried, but the [Mage] who answered said—said there was nothing she could do anyways.”
Rie tapped at one lip thoughtfully. A loud thump echoed down the corridors and her face paled, but she went on as if she hadn’t heard.
“Either her magical carriages have broken down again or her staff are…indisposed. No aid from her, then. It seems the Goblins will break in within the hour. Unless I am wrong, Geram?”
The big man lowered his head. He carried no weapons, but he had two gauntlets on each hand and he had beaten the Hob who’d entered to death with his bare fists.
“They’ll be in sooner than that, Miss Rie. That damn [Shaman]’s creating something big out there and the Hobs are breaking the
doors bit by bit.”
Lady Rie bit her lip.
“I thought those enchantments were meant to hold a Troll off. They were Wistram-certified. Nesor, you told me they were powerful.”
Nesor, the young [Mage], gulped.
“They are, Lady Rie. But—but no enchantment lasts forever! If you could shoot the Goblins or—or chase them away, the magic might replenish. I could cast a spell—”
Geram shook his head.
“Open a window and you’ll be filled with arrows before you can raise your hands, boy. There are Goblins climbing the roofs. They’re banging on the windows upstairs.”
“They won’t get in, surely.”
Rie looked at Geram. He shrugged.
“Before the Hobs bust down the doors? No.”
She understood what he was saying. And what he wasn’t saying. Rie looked around, at the frightened faces around her and stood up slowly.
“Well then. It appears we all have an engagement with destiny. My loyal staff, Geram, Nesor, it has been a pleasure, truly.”
The gathered servants, [Maids], lone [Gardener], and [Cook] stared at their mistress in horror. She looked around and sighed.
“For all my scheming and plans, I didn’t expect it to end like this. Not…not so inelegantly.”
“We’ll hold them off as long as we can. I’ve already barricaded the main corridor and we’ve got every bow at each end. We’ll make them bleed before they get to us, I swear.”
Geram clenched one fist as the thundering blows on the door intensified. Outside the Goblins screamed and the [Shaman] roared a word that made the silverware on the tables flash for a second. Rie flinched. Geram looked towards Nesor and the [Mage] hesitated before hurrying towards the makeshift barricades. The captain of the guard drew closer to Rie and lowered his voice. He took something off of his belt and handed it to her.
Rie stared at the object. It was a dagger. She looked up at Geram’s face. The man’s expression was grim.
