“Alador, I don’t mean to take the wind out of your sails, but if you challenge the seat of the High Minister’s power, the council will expect you to take the station.” Levielle’s voice became more and more emotionally charged. “If you turn it down, it will be seen as a weakness to be exploited.”
“Surely not. I was hoping Lady Aldemar could take such a seat.” He glanced at the lady in question.
“Oh goodness me, no. I have no desire to lead those malicious, backstabbing bastards.” Lady Aldemar exclaimed.
Alador stared at her in disbelief, not only that she would refuse but that she had just used such strong language. He had never heard her utter an unkind word before tonight.
Levielle simply chuckled and took another bite of his food. As he chewed, he watched the interaction between the others.
Meanwhile, Sordith had been glowering at Keelee’s exuberance. “I don’t know if I like the idea of these dragons of yours. They could do a lot of harm to the city.” Sordith pointed out. “As for taking Luthian’s place, Levielle is right.”
Lady Aldemar shook her head in agreement. “Yes, if you overcome Luthian and his dogs, most of the city will expect you to don the mantle of High Minister.”
Alador sat quietly, taking this all in. He had really been hoping to escape Keensight’s plotting.
“Not going according to plan already?” Levielle spoke up after watching Alador sitting in exasperation for a while.. He reached for a roll on the table and began to butter it.
Chapter Eighteen
Luthian sat back from his desk with a sigh. A casual observer would have seen a map of Cliffview, a large Lerdenian city with a fourth tier, but a closer look would have shown a record of his current activities. After the assault on the stables, he had realized his organization was not as spy-proof as he had assumed, and moved to a less-obvious system, with misleading titles. He still suspected that his nephew had been involved in that particular disaster; the obvious use of magic, including lightning, pointed at the boy. Then the fall of the bloodmine coming so soon after, with the blue and silver tabards, was a coincidence he could not ignore. After all, he didn’t believe in coincidences.
The bloodmine would be reestablished in time, but for the moment he had been unable to procure eggs. Lady Morana was still miffed with him and was not answering his correspondence, even though she had dispatched dragons and members of her sphere to deal with the dead. He disliked her ignoring him, and one day soon he would remind her she was not the ruler of the country despite her rise in popularity.
The storm had provided him with the opportunity to remove some of the scum and low life of the city. It had been a risky move, but the population seemed to have settled down and accepted that Lady Caterine acted of her own accord. It helped that she had not hidden her disdain for the lower tiers. Those that knew her were not surprised and fed into his accusation that she was responsible.
However, something was still off. He stared at the map for a long time. He couldn’t ignore it. His nephew was somehow playing the game so well that he could not track Alador’s movements. It was time he gained some control of the boy. He added a new circle and connected it to Alador’s. It was time to bring his little lady love in for a visit. If anything could hold that boy’s loyalty, it would be leverage over someone he loved. He just hoped the girl was still important to the boy.
Luthian got up and poured a glass of wine, then moved to the servant’s pull and rang for assistance. When the young man stepped in, Luthian smiled at him warmly. It was good to keep the servants uneasy, and never being able to predict the High Minister’s mood was but one tool that he used.
“Fetch Severent to attend me as soon as he can,” Luthian drawled out.
“Yes, milord,” the door was closed quickly.
It didn’t bother Luthian that they didn’t want to remain in the room any longer than they had to. Truthfully, he preferred it that way. He carefully folded his activity map and secured it in his desk. Turning to the other missives of the day, he began to read through the various city reports.
A knock came at the door and Luthian looked up in surprise. Surely, the man had not been located that quickly?
“Come!”
The door opened and the doorman stepped through. “Milord, General Levielle is here to see you. Should I have him wait or can he attend you now.”
Luthian took a deep breath. The general was a problem he had yet to deal with and it piqued his curiosity as to why the man would come seeking him out. “Show him in.”
Levielle strode into the room confidently. He looked worn and ragged, someone overworked for the past couple of days, but his stance told a very different story. His energy had a driven quality to it, his boots still muddy, tunic still showing sweat and stains from the day.
“High Minister.” Levielle addressed Luthian with a curt bow. “I thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
Luthian did not rise. “Of course, General. I am glad to see you hale and whole. I have had reports your men were working hard to help shore up and repair the trench as the water recedes.” Luthian eyed the man with deep scrutiny. This was not a man he could underestimate. He had been on the fifth tier longer than Luthian and only rumors were available as to his skills demonstrated at his testing. It was a strange situation. No one seemed to quite remember it, other than that it had occurred.
“What brings you to my chambers? You rarely seek my advice or counsel,” Luthian pointed out. “Please have a seat.”
“My men have been working double time to try and recover following the storm, wave, and that damn mage that put up those walls,” he sighed out in disgust. “She… what was her name again?” he prompted, his tone curious as he stepped forward and took the chair across from Luthian’s.
“You speak of Lady Caterine. I will be sure to put a couple extra slips into the budget for a bonus for your men. I have even seen them up on rooftops helping to re-tile.” Luthian attempted to move the man away from the topic of sealing the trench. He had asked the general to assist him first, and he doubted that Levielle had forgotten their conversation.
“I appreciate the gesture, High Minister, and I’m sure the men will appreciate it too after such hard work.” His tone was measured, but not taken off guard. “Yes, Lady Caterine. Any idea why she might have wanted to seal off the trench?”
Luthian put a look of genuine concern on his face. “Why General… your guess would be as good as mine, I assure you.” His cold eyes didn’t mirror his expression, and he watched the man with an intensity he had not shown in a long while.
Levielle responded with a practiced metered tone. “I see… well, while the rest of the populace may take that scapegoat as a real and quantifiable solution, we both know the truth of the situation.”
Levielle was so oddly calm looking, not at all concerned about the fact that he was sitting before a man that could easily wipe him off the face of the earth without much trouble. Or could he? Luthian began to second guess himself. He knew so little about the general.
Luthian had feared this. The General had connected the pretty clear dots from their own conversation. He would have to be dealt with.
“I see. Well, being a general, you are aware the truth of any situation is told from the perspective of the one in control.” Luthian sat back, his hands steepled as he eyed the man. “Any other perspective could have, shall we say, lasting consequences.”
“Doesn’t it always? It seems that I’m an easy target then. Removal of my person would make it much simpler to keep something like that quiet.” A cold smile was drawn across Levielle’s features and he leaned lazily back in his chair, comfortably crossing his legs. “However, I don’t plan on telling anyone of it, High Minister.”
“Oh, how interesting.” Luthian leaned forward watching the man closely. “And what is to your benefit, other than your life, to hold your tongue?” Was the man more loyal than he had given him credit for? In some ways, he wondered if this man weren
’t Alador’s father. They had that same strange sense of morality unusual in the tiered cities.
“While I may not agree with your means, you typically have a point to the things you do.” He met Luthian’s gaze. “Understand that my loyalty lies with the council. I do not need to rock the boat as I would only crash into the rocks that is the council’s will. Besides, the army reports to me not out of duty, but from respect - respect that can be far more easily lost than it was earned.”
“So, are you here in hopes that this confession of loyalty will earn you a long life, or do you seek something else, General?”
Luthian wasn’t stupid. He understood quite well the man’s meaning. He also knew with the same surety that if this man ever saw that he would not crash upon rocks with his knowledge, he would reveal it in a heartbeat. He could not foresee such an opportunity with the well-controlled council, but then he had never thought the bloodmines would fall either.
“Not at all, I am simply telling you what I know and informing my High Minister that I am marching the army along the coast to grant aid to nearby towns and villages that were affected from the storm.” Levielle remained smiling that cold smile. “My life could be snuffed out by you at any point, but I’m still valuable to you, something that is not easily replaced.”
“What of protection of the city, and the help needed here?” Luthian pondered the idea. The army responding would make the council look good, and given the damage to the city, he was sure the rural areas could use the help. “Are you dispatching units differing directions?”
“Leave the planning to me, High Minister. The various forces will depend on what areas report the most damage. I have scouts moving to the towns and villages up and down the coast to ascertain what aid is needed.” He uncrossed his legs and straightened a bit in his chair. “As for the protection of the city, you have some of the city guard still at your disposal, as well as the Blackguard to enforce the law.” The report rolled off his tongue quickly.
“Then you have my permission. I have no doubt the council will agree as well. Such help will bolster the feelings of the populace who often feel abandoned in such situations.” Luthian nodded. “It is a fine idea, and given the circumstances, likely a smart move on your part.”
“Thank you, High Minister. I had assumed you would see this path as the most reasonable.” Levielle rose and bowed politely. “With your permission, I shall take my leave and continue preparations.”
“As you will.” Luthian rose. “May the Gods speed your path to those that need it most.”
His words were polite, but they both knew there was no real feeling to the sentiment. Besides, if the man had an ‘accident’ far from Silverport, the powers that be were less likely to be blamed for it.
With a quick nod, Levielle turned on his heel and made his way to the door. He paused there for a moment, as if to say something, but instead opened the door, exited and quietly closed it behind him.
Luthian sat back down slowly. Having the army out helping repair would be good for the country. It was smart thinking on Levielle’s part given that the knowledge he held was dangerous to him. However, the High Minister decided that the General’s wife, Nakyra, would become his house guest after the man left. It never hurt to ensure that the man had a reason to make sure his loyalty was as deep as he had declared.
Severent arrived about a half hour later. Luthian was deep in compiling the list of damages as various cities with a scrier could report in. He looked up with relief when the man was announced. More that it gave a break from the menial tasks he was completing then the man himself. Luthian smiled coldly, so many people wanting to be at the top of the ladder, not realizing that the top of the ladder was boring work for the most part.
He beckoned the man closer as the door was closed behind him by a servant. “Ah, the man I wished to see. I have two tasks, no make that three, that I need from you and those you manage.”
“I am here to serve, High Minister.” The pock-faced man, his faded red hair tied back severely, bowed low.
“The young lady you mentioned from Smallbrook, do you remember reporting on her?” Luthian stood and went to refill his glass that had set empty for some time now.
“I never forget a report once it has been completed, milord.” Severent raised an eyebrow as if Luthian should know that.
“Yes, Yes… Well, I wish you to extend her an invitation to reside as my guest this winter.” Levielle capped the decanter.
“Am I to assume refusal is not an option for the young woman in question?” Severent smiled coldly.
“It is not. However, she is to arrive untouched.” Luthian didn’t like the look on the man’s face.
“Of course, High Minister.” The man’s grin faltered slightly. “What else is it that you require?”
“I need one of your men to move out in the company of General Levielle. He is moving the army to help the populace in the surrounding areas. I want reports on his action and if the opportunity arises to arrange an accident… well, let us say that I would not be heartbroken.”
“You want him removed?” Severent shifted with a somewhat predatory air.
It had always made Luthian a bit uncomfortable. Fortunately, Severent had a price and Luthian had been happy to pay it. “For now, only if an accident is viable.” He stressed the word accident. “Reports will suffice until then.”
“And the last task, High Minister?” Severent was not one for small talk.
“I wish a similar invitation for the winter to be extended to Levielle’s wife after the army departs. Only, I don’t want anyone else in the city to know of it.” Luthian didn’t know how Severent got around with no one noticing him, but he knew that if it were required, Severent would ensure that the lady was delivered without anyone being the wiser.
“These are matters easily seen to.” Severent almost sounded as if he was complaining.
“Yes, well then consider yourself overpaid.” Luthian said in a dismissive tone.
Severent nodded, turned and strode out the door. Luthian realized he didn’t know where the man went when he left. He was notified by simply sending a homing pigeon he provided the Minister. One day, he might need to know more about the man. He thought for a moment. Maybe not, some rocks were best left unturned.
Chapter Nineteen
The troll cook and his head-baker sat on the wall of the outlook smoking their pipes. They had started preparing breakfast in the kitchen far before dawn broke. Now they were resting as the first wave of Blackguard, and immigrants sheltered in the cavern, ate.
“I swear, Troll, they have to do the city cleanup faster,” Gralin said after he exhaled. Smoke curled up above his head.
Calling the troll-cook, Troll, was not in any way derogatory. In fact, the baker considered the cook one of his closest friends. However, troll language was very guttural, not something a human could easily wrap their tongue around. Also, troll names usually took at least a minute to say since they was always based on lineage. Their names were not something quick you could yell across the kitchen in an emergency. Therefore, everyone called Troll by his species name, and he was good with it. No one understood where he came from; he had simply gotten off one of the great trading ships one day and he had not seen fit to enlighten them.
“I never had so many folks to bake for. We got to get them city folks out and back on the tiers where they belong.” Gralin sucked on his pipe so hard he made the packed tobacco glow red in the bowl. “They eat the bread as fast as I can bake it.”
Troll grinned and smacked the baker on the back with a meaty hand. The baker almost fell off the wall. “You ought to be happy. Folks likin’ your bread and such.”
“That’s not the point,” Gralin pulled his pipe from his mouth and pointed at the cavern’s entrance. “The point is that I used to bake in the morning and then go lounging in the pub and dittlin’ with the fair ladies, but no more. Now I finish bakin’ in the morning, they eat, and then before lunch I bake again, and bef
ore supper… again!”
Troll thumped the baker soundly on the shoulder. “The ladies won’t forget you,” he laughed as he puffed on his pipe. “I heard the first tier was getting cleaned up enough that they may let the folks back in soon.”
Gralin looked over the edge of the outlook toward the plain. You could barely see it from the outlook, but Troll’s words were true. Over the last few days they had watched the piles of the dead grow out on the grassy field. Luckily, the wind had been such that the stench from the dead had been blowing inland rather than up the tiers.
As they sat discussing the state of the cavern’s populace, and the ladies Gralin missed, the folks who had been first to eat started to emerge on the platform the outlook created. It was going to be a beautifully clear day, and the sun was already warming the stone. Mothers with their children came first. The mothers set up a perimeter along the wall of the outlook, partially for the safety of the children, but also to keep the young ones from seeing any dead.
The kids were not interested in anything, but the joy of freedom from the confines of the cave. They were full of breakfast and energy from the monotony of being cooped up for days. They ran in big circles chasing each other, like dogs scenting for their hunting master.
The next ones to come out to bask in the sun were the elderly who were too infirm to assist in the cleanup. Most of the civilian men, and the whole of the Blackguard, would go out immediately and continue the clearing and restoration of the tiers.
Troll crossed his legs and thumped his pipe out on the bottom of his boot. He was finished and it was mostly ash. It was time to go in and see that the pots and platters were filled for the second wave they had to feed. Then they would start to prepare the food to be served for lunch.
The baker rose and stretched his arms up high to get the kinks out of his back. Lifting tray after tray of bread and rolls was tiring work. They both headed toward the entrance and back to work.
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