by Kris Schnee
He would have to do something, yes. Dominic nodded again, not meeting Jakob's eyes, and went out.
* * *
Dominic stepped outside to the streets of Seaflower, where men and women stared at a pair of griffins that sat up like cats. The pair were pretending to look uninterested in the crowd, but one of them gave a stealthy wave and beaky smile to a boy who was being held back by his mother from running to look closer.
Dominic approached the beastly knights, trying not to look frightened. "Hello, sirs. Thanks for coming. What do you need from me?"
The more serious griffin said, "Let Us Fly."
He suppressed a shudder. "I'm ready."
That one ran forward and grabbed Dominic in its talons to haul him away into the sky.
"You Have Flown Before," the other said, flying beside Dominic's carrier.
He said into the wind, "Once, with Sir Fleche."
They cleared the walls of Seaflower and picked a spot just to the south, along the river that Dominic had used to sneak in. They set him down, and he adjusted his clothes and rubbed his sore muscles. A tent stood nearby, decorated with a snapping solar flag in red and gold.
The griffins split in their unique flare of light. Or not entirely unique; the golden tinge of their magic was now something he'd seen very close by. He watched the transformation with renewed interest as each creature became man and griffin, with subtle changes to the latter.
Distracted by a question of magic theory, he asked, "Can you trade griffins?"
The man on his left laughed. "No more than you could trade arms with us." His griffin wiggled a wing. "Sorry to bother you; we have food in the tent. We're Carolus, and you know Fleche already."
"Oh!" Dominic hadn't recognized that he had been carried by the same griffin as before, but the man to his right was in fact Sir Fleche. "Sorry not to recognize you right away."
Fleche nodded, and led Dominic into the comfortable tent. They had bread and mutton, wine and cheese, prepared simply. Fleche got to business at last: "We've heard that you've stopped recognizing Mithraic authority, and have set yourself up as an independent ruler -- now that our army is at your door."
"Only a Prince, in honor of your own ruler. I think you'll find that the Baccatan people aren't ready to accept Mithraic rule, but they might accept a native ruler who's friendly toward you and has even adopted your religion. If the Mithraic army tries to take this city, your Dukes will need to fight the remaining Baccatan loyalists. They're outside the walls now, and thirsty, but in a strong position."
"And against your people? Would you fight us to avoid being ruled by the League of Mithrol?"
"The city's people would. In time, maybe they'll accept your League, but not today. It was hard enough to get them to accept me, a former Servant of the State."
Carolus, or at least his human half, laughed. "This is a risky game, Prince! What would you suggest instead of the League marching on Seaflower, now that it's weakened?"
Dominic picked his words carefully. "A suggestion, not a command of course. Have your forces join with mine to defeat the remaining Baccatan soldiers under High Citizen Arend. The siege is already in place, turned against them instead of the city itself. Then, if Mithrol's people behave themselves, they can enter the city in small groups and use the countryside as a base for further invasion. Much better than bothering to pillage the city and having the people fight back, isn't it?"
Fleche said, "The army isn't invading just to empower you."
"That's fair. But your people believe in justice, don't you? We have a common goal of defeating the State. So will your army travel through this region without burning and killing? Just passing through, taking no more than you need from the innocent Bound?"
"Innocent!" said Fleche.
Dominic sighed and rubbed his eyes. "That's a sore subject, I'll admit. I want to blame the Boundless One and the Servants working for Him, as though the Citizens and Bound were just passive game pieces being abused. But some of them want the assurance that comes with living under the State. I wonder, if we let them choose as a group..."
Seconds passed. There was a sound of beating wings outside, and Carolus leaned closer. "Are you all right, Prince?"
Fleche said, "We haven't recognized him as anything, Carolus."
"We'll let him call himself Empress within this tent if he likes, while we figure out what's going on."
Dominic said, "You two, you knights, have a different perspective than the Dukes or my own people. What do you do with someone who would rather be Bound than make her own decisions? To force freedom on her is a violation of the very thing I want to do."
Fleche blinked. "This is about a female?"
Dominic stammered. He'd meant to ask in general about the people of Baccata. "I, uh..."
Carolus bowed. "Sir Carolus at your service: monster-slaying, war, relationship advice. We are hybrid creatures, used to the idea of mixing different natures. There's a lot of doctrine about this, most of which is nonsense" -- he ignored a glare from Fleche -- "but the key part is to try not to force things. It will only make you hate the people you're trying to help."
Dominic nodded. "Thank you, Carolus. I'm sorry to ask such a silly thing of you."
"Not at all."
"I have the chance to reshape Baccata into something more honest, more just. I don't know if we can do it, if there's the will for it. What about your own nation's role in this war? I like most of what I've heard from your priests, but I'm not sure the Dukes live up to it."
Fleche said, "They don't, not always. Now, there's another topic we need to ask about."
"The spell I cast at the gates?"
"Yes. Its formal name is the Empowering Aura of Justice, and very few people have ever used it. The Sun King Himself, Saint Andre, Saint Susan, Saint Pierre... Are you seeing the point?"
He felt flushed. "I wasn't doing anything deliberate."
"They never do. It just happens. Except for one recorded man who somehow used it unjustly with an evil heart. When that man came to a certain village to make demands, haughty in his shining armor, only a boy named Pierre with a wooden sword stood against him. The boy began to blaze with sacred light himself, that outshined the evildoer's like the sun to a candle. We wonder, which of the two are you most like?"
Dominic met the eyes of the strange foreigner. "I suggest you judge me by your own standards. I want to be your ally, so I'll judge you by them too."
"Fair enough," said Fleche. "We'll tell the Dukes you're useful and your people are best befriended. But we doubt that the rest of Baccata will be beatable with speeches and ruses."
Dominic nodded. "We'll press on, and do what we must."
Carolus said, "We hope you use that power well, Prince. You've been given a gift. How you use it will decide whether you're a saint or a monster."
Dominic considered, on the flight back, that the knights' sense of honor was the thing distinguishing them from monsters themselves.
* * *
The surrender of Arend wasn't glorious. The thirsty troops mutinied at the Flower Walls, with whole squads sneaking up to the gates to beg to be taken captive. Once the first few had melted away into the city, Arend panicked and made desperate raids on the gates, on the Mithraic troops, on his own deserters. There was no need to go after him. Eventually the man walked out with his hands raised and fury still in his eyes.
"They'll kill you for failing," said Dominic, after parading him through the streets. "You can stay in a cell here, but there's no point in you going east."
It was the first time Dominic had even seen the city's former ruler. Arend still wore a glorious cape and armor for this public interview. "You will be beaten down and then torn apart, Servant. You have no hope."
Dominic couldn't help but feel some sympathy. Had this man ever questioned the system he lived under? "What of the city itself? You're going to rant that its people should be put to the torch as traitors, I assume."
The challenge seemed to catc
h the High Citizen off guard. One of the turncoat Citizens laughed. Arend answered more quietly. "I am the rightful defender of this city. Those responsible will die, Servant, but the city will go on. Its fields and farmers must go on, to feed the State."
"I agree, to some extent. Hate me if you want, but I've just saved the city from looting and burning, and will likely hang people who try it. If you really care about Seaflower, that should give you some comfort."
"You'll only make things worse. The rest of the Holy State will crash in on you, and this city. Will you run away then and leave these people to die?"
Dominic rested a hand on Arend's armored shoulder while men held his arms. "This land is my home. I'll fight for it, to the death. You should think about whether you'd do the same -- next time."
* * *
His force of converts had done it; they'd befriended Seaflower's people well enough to hold the city, and forced defeat on a large part of the Baccatan army. Soldiers from the west entered the city in peace, careful not to make any claim of ownership, and began to trade and speak peacefully with the residents. There were scuffles, even an assassination attempt on Arend and another on Bastian, but the city held. There was an improvised celebration, a public class on magic for all who wanted to attend, and a lecture by Rose about her people. A caravan set out to the north to Torrin in search of profit; others were coming from there and the west. Griffins returned to the town to talk and play a sport of kicking a ball around, which Carolus called "outreach".
Dominic watched this moment of peace with a smile, and then went to the Hall of Law where he was keeping Julia in a nicely furnished cell. Legally she had no right to complain.
There were actual prisoners here, people who'd looted the shops or fought against him. He was scheduled to hang two of them tomorrow, and had ordered that it be done quietly instead of making a public demonstration of terror and force. There was weeping and Baccatan praying in this hallway of many doors, and he tried to push his frustration and worry aside as he came to Julia's door.
"May I come in?" he said, looking through the barred window.
"I can't stop you," said Julia, sitting on the floor.
He opened the door. As he'd ordered, there was a rug, a chair, blankets, even a book about naval tactics that he'd randomly seized from a defiant Citizen. She wouldn't meet his eyes.
He sighed and stepped away from the open door. "Just go."
"What?" she said, looking up at last.
"I'm sorry, Julia. Offering people a better way to live means letting them not take it. I was angry and I acted unjustly."
"And you tell me 'just go' after taunting me like this?"
"Our world is changing, like it or not. You won't be able to legally be anyone's property anymore. But if you want to have someone responsible for your well-being, and making the decisions for you, I won't deny you that. You can go back to the innkeeper and make whatever arrangements you want. In a free society, you can do that."
"Hmmph." Julia stood up and faced Dominic. "Lectures."
"Are you going to slap me again?"
"I might."
"I wanted to do worse. I wanted to shove your face into that fountain and make you drink, since..." Since she didn't want to admit she had the brains to run her own life. He shook his head, dismissing his anger. "I need to hold myself to a better standard than spite and violence."
She said, "You really think you're some kind of hero."
"I'm trying. I'm at least making a new set of mistakes instead of repeating the same old abuses as the State."
"You're going to kill some of the people in this very building for defying you. I hear them curse your name."
Dominic looked away as though he could see through the cells' walls to all the suffering people within. "That's the plan. These are thieves and would-be killers."
"I've heard their fear," she said. "They think their lives are going to end in here, never seeing the sun again. Is the killing different when you do it, because you're so just and wise?"
"Are you trying to argue for their lives?" he said. "Some of them are Citizens. One tried to kill my best friend."
Julia studied his face. "Spite again."
"Another one tried to kill Citizen Bastian too!"
"Ah, but that's not the one you mentioned first." There was a challenging spark in her eyes.
"You're hard to please."
"I have high standards. Well, 'Prince'? Would you let at least the looters free, and maybe let the rest go after this war ends if you survive?"
"What does this have to do with you?" Dominic asked.
"They're my countrymen, one way or another. The things they've done, they did because of you and your war."
That was true. "All right. Mercy, once. You've saved the lives of the people jailed right now." He tried to smile for her. "There; are you satisfied? You can leave now, and go back to your proper master. I'll arrange the paperwork. And get my coins back."
Julia faced the cell's bare walls, and shuddered. "I didn't think you'd agree. I knew you'd come back, but not what you'd say. You own me. What else could I do but get in what digs I can, without getting beaten for it?"
"I won't lay a hand on you. Unless you slap me."
"Again with that! It was years ago. You hold a grudge, 'Prince'."
"I remembered you well; what can I say?"
She laughed, then shook again. "Dominic, you fool; what have you gotten everyone into?"
"Something new, maybe better."
She studied his face for a long moment, looking pained, then spoke quietly. "I overheard people. They expected you to come here sometime. On your way out, they plan to kill you."
Dominic froze. "Details?"
"That's all I know. I could've misunderstood, but I don't think so."
He glanced over his shoulder to the quiet prison hall. Then he said, "May I touch you, once?"
"You'd even ask?"
"That's how we do things in the new Baccata."
"Ha. Go ahead."
Dominic hugged her, breathing in the scent of her. Then he let her go and said, "Thank you, Julia. Stay here while I... deal with that, but then go where you please. I'll remember this meeting better than our first one."
She nodded, biting her lip. "When it's all over, if you really end the State, then everything has to change. If you do that... Send for me. Please."
Dominic's heart fluttered. "Is that your first decision as a free woman?"
"No. The first was to save your life."
He smiled, bowed, and turned to the door to fight once more.
He no longer wore his Servant robe, but his new one was a similar design in the colors of the King's faith, red and gold. He hadn't gotten his complete set of darts back from the siege, so he'd been working on a replacement set that was made with his improved skill, and hardened by fire. He walked alone through the prison's main hall and raised his hands, making an even dozen of the darts float up from his pockets in twin clouds. With a little effort he raised a pair of cubes at each hand as well. A ruler in a newly-conquered city wouldn't last long walking around unarmed.
The prison anteroom was silent, though there should've been a guard on duty. The doorway to it was far ahead. Dominic's Weave sense showed him a pair of figures outlined in green, hiding to either side.
He carried the master key to this prison. Dominic paused in front of one of the doors and said, "You're one of the looters, aren't you?"
The man inside glared back. "Come to taunt me?"
"No. I'll let you out, if you promise to run."
"What?"
"Trust me." Dominic opened the door and swung it open with a flourish. The Bound man inside looked miserable and bewildered, but suddenly hopeful. He'd had his sentence lifted. "I can go?"
He murmured, "Just this once. Run to the entrance, then stay out of the way."
"I... all right. Thank you!" He started running. Dominic gave him a moment, then followed.
The moment the prisoner
got through the doorway, there was a noise and rustle. The two men who'd been lurking there darted forward to strike him from behind, then an instant later realized they had the wrong man.
Dominic launched half his darts at the assassins' backs. The sharp wood thudded forward but didn't pierce their jackets. Armor. Unfortunate.
The prisoner was wide-eyed, flattening himself against the far wall and then trying to open the locked outer door. Dominic said, "Keep out of the way."
The assassins cursed and turned toward Dominic. Each had a wicked knife, and the one on his left made his other hand glow with spell-light as he flicked Dominic's blades aside. "Death to the traitor!" That one had a brand visible under his hood.
Dominic flung one of his wooden cubes at the man's face and made it explode into jagged shards. The little thing wasn't good enough for a full casting of Splinter Scream but it certainly caused screaming. The mage fell back clutching his bleeding face, slashing wildly in front of him with his knife.
The other killer swiped at Dominic too, with more discipline. He had one arm up to guard his head, and like the other he had a tough leather jacket and thick cloak. The blade dripped with something foul and blue. Outside, someone banged on the iron door, faintly calling out.
Dominic feinted with his darts while trying to get at the killer's face. A lucky slash from the knife swatted the other splinter-cube out of Dominic's grip. Dominic tried to stab with his darts but the enemy had protected his legs and groin, and seemed even to have armored gloves and a high collar.
"Iron beats wood, traitor."
Dominic aimed for the face, keeping him at bay. "Have you considered wearing a mask?"
Dominic fell back to the doorway; the man with the wounded face was coming back into the fight. Dominic whipped the keyring off his belt and threw it toward the released prisoner. "Biggest key!"
The prisoner caught it, fumbled, and dodged a kick from an assassin.
"Never mind him," said the other killer. "Get the traitor first!" They forced their way ahead before Dominic could take advantage of the chokepoint.
