by Reiter
“What was the point of all of this?” J’Raldri asked as she looked around.
“It’s not a conventional maneuver,” Isaiah replied, “… as it can be rather costly. Step one: put your target’s life in danger. Step two: save said target. Result: a sense of trust is developed. Mother’s trying to get me to lower my guard, for me to open an avenue of access she didn’t possess before tonight.”
“I can see the sense of it,” the L’Konno woman said plainly. “In theory. But it seems extreme.”
“I’ll agree with you there,” Isaiah said before thinking about the point his bodyguard had just made. “Can’t shake the feeling that tonight went above and beyond Mother’s plans though. Like there’s another factor at play here. Either we’re dealing with a barony making an unexpected play, incredible incompetence on behalf of Mother and her sons, or a new entity making our acquaintance.”
“I knew you were a smart man, Lord Governor,” a soft male voice came over his brace-com. Looking at the device, Isaiah could see the unit was not tuned to any of his secured channels. Isaiah lowered his free hand and gave J’Raldri the signal to try and trace the signal. “Now, with this intrusion on an open circuit, I know we don’t have much time. I don’t know what sort of plan you had put together to deal with Mother, but I do know that she has had audience with the administrations of three different baronies, feeling them out on the subject of your sudden removal from office. You might be able to extrapolate the sort of answers she must have received.”
“I think I might be able to make that leap,” Isaiah replied as he received a signal from J’Raldri that she had tracked the signal and its transmission source. Isaiah gave her the signal to dispatch a team to apprehend the culprit. “But of course, anyone could make the claim you just did, and all I have is your word to go on.”
“That is not necessarily the case, Governor,” the voice replied. “Why don’t you tell that team you just dispatched to find me not to shoot first? I’d hate for them to destroy the evidence of my intentions. You see, your supposition was more accurate than you might want to believe. There is a new player in the game, one who designs on taking the Bowels of Black Gate… and handing them to you on a platter. But you were also correct to consider that one of Brattle’s rivals threw a wrench in the works. They weren’t successful in killing you, but I think we both know Mother didn’t plan on getting wounded. There’s a good chance we will never see Brattle again. Shame.”
“Hold your position!” Isaiah could hear the Team Lead shouting in the background of where the man he was speaking with must have been. “Ugh, gods of my fathers!” the leader groaned as others in his detail started to voice their disgust at what they were seeing. One man sounded like he was forced to regurgitate from the sight. “Lord Governor, we’ve got more bodies up here, sir. Ten by a quick count, sir, but it’s hard… it’s hard to tell sir. There’s so much blood. Gods, this isn’t human!”
“I’d say he was right at that,” the voice added. “Once your people start to investigate these bodies, you’ll find that they were mercenaries, hired by Alvosso, one of Brattle’s brothers. The very same individual who took it upon himself to call for the Bowel Tide.
“You’ll be interested to know the scopes on their blasters are set to your electromagnetic signature, Governor, and they are dressed like your security force. Without my intervention today, your darling wife would now be a widow.”
“Cut to the chase,” the Governor demanded. “Nothing in this life is free.”
“Life itself is free,” the voice argued. “But you’re right to believe I want something in return for my efforts. I ask of you two measures: one, turn your back on the Bowels for the next two weeks and two, quadruple security at all of the lift stations and stairway egresses. Detain anyone whosoever that tries to leave. In fourteen days, I will reveal myself and throw myself at the mercy of your administration. You will either make me your new Keeper, or you will arrest me for a number of crimes to which I will confess.”
“Your offer is very good for me with the exception of one thing.”
“There are no innocents, Governor,” the voice declared.
“There has to be if life is free!” Isaiah countered. The line fell silent for a moment, but the former Magistrate could hear breathing on the other end.
“Good point, Lord Governor,” the voice admitted. “Very well, I will need sixteen days, and your assistance. The first two days you will be collecting the ones who are smart enough to get out of the way, then I will need, at most, the fourteen days I previously mentioned.”
“Done,” Isaiah said as he stood up. He winced again and nearly doubled over from the pain.
“You really need to have that shoulder wound looked at, Governor.” The line went dead as Isaiah looked around. J’Raldri was quick to join in on the search, and had not been long at it when she spotted someone.
“There,” she shouted as she pointed. Isaiah turned and lifted his gun up to look through the scope. Standing atop one of the taller skyscrapers was a man dressed head-to-toe in flowing black fabric. He waved at Isaiah and his bodyguard before stepping back from the edge of the roof. He was into his third stride when a flash of light removed him from sight.
J’Raldri did not need for Isaiah to issue directives. “I need a sweep team to scour every millimeter of the roof of the Kuurtour Building. Every millimeter! Send the scanning robots first! Don’t let anyone on the roof until they’re done making their sensor runs!” Several men ran to see to her commands and the L’Konno Warrior turned to look at Isaiah who was shaking his head.
“One of us might as well say it,” he began, putting his right hand on his hip. “That building… that whole sector… is baronial finance, lawyers, corporations, and high-end art. Of course it’s a great view of the stadium. It’s a great view of the entire city on this deck, and held by more private security than every regiment I have at my command! So, if that’s the case, how did he get up there?
“And while you’re wading through that,” Isaiah said as J’Raldri started for the exit. “…send word to the Black Scarab. Tell him that I appreciate the return on my ship and his advice to wear extra body armour to the event!”
“That is just going to make his day,” J’Raldri sighed.
“The man gets on my nerves too,” Isaiah agreed. “But he’s yet to be wrong, and I’d rather have a life-saving annoyance than a failed but friendly life-defending ally.”
** b *** t *** o *** r **
Maradothia paced impatiently across the floor. The three Imperial Guards that had been stationed inside the room made sure not to look at the Princess. Two of their number had already made that mistake. The first had probably reached the infirmary by now, fairly sure of the fact that there would be no permanent scaring to her face. The latter was being carried to the same place, in need of a regen-cast for his left arm and both legs. Apparently what JoJo Starblazer had to say about Purdians had been very accurate. It was a very costly thing to cross their kind. Dyanko sat quietly in one of the two chairs that had been placed in the center of an otherwise empty room; a chamber the Princess had never seen in all her time on campus.
“How is your hand?” Dyanko inquired, looking at his nails.
“It’s fine,” Maradothia said, still very agitated by the events of the past few days. To go this long without word from G’Dalior… it was unlike him. Now there were Imperial guards on the campus grounds, and they were not members of her normal detail. Something was very, very wrong.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Princess,” Casdan Quazeki said as he entered the room, and Maradothia stopped pacing.
“Count Casdan Quazeki,” Maradothia answered, quickly composing herself as she spoke. She called his name for the benefit of Dyanko who had already been told many tales with the man named as a laughable nemesis. The Imperial Princess did not look as if she was about to laugh.
“The Imperial Minister of Affairs,” the young Purdian said with an airy quality to his
voice as his eyes flared wide. “Dyanko Ziez, sir,” he said, offering his hand. “It is truly an honor!”
“The honor is mine, young man,” Casdan said, shaking the young man’s hand. “And my, what a grip you have to you! If you will excuse me just one moment.” Casdan turned to one of the guards. “Was there a need to interrupt this young man’s studies?!”
“When we found the Princess, they were training together,” the guard replied. “He… insisted on coming with her.”
“I see,” the Count replied, turning to look again on Dyanko. “Princess Maradothia has a true and loyal friend. It warms the heart that away from Primus she carries herself in a manner to have won your trust and support.”
“Maradothia is indeed my friend,” Dyanko replied. “When the guards refused to give reason for removing her from the dojo, I had to insist on accompanying her. There was some disagreement.”
“Consider the matter resolved, young Master Ziez,” Casdan returned. “And I can tell you these are matters of procedure regarding the Primuson Throne and Imperial Law. And as you might have surmised, we have the permission of the faculty of Gungil College to conduct this very necessary business.”
“Then I will await Maradothia outside,” Dyanko said as he started for the door.
“We may be a while,” Casdan called over his shoulder.
“Then a while I shall wait. Maradothia.”
“Dyanko,” the Princess replied, smiling as she nodded her head. Once the doors closed behind Dyanko, her smile faded. She slowly turned to face the Minister. “Count Quazeki.”
The man smiled, looking upon what could only be called quintessential Primuson courage. He chuckled, gesturing to one of the chairs. Though she wanted to remain standing, Maradothia thought it might serve her to give this particular ground. She sat down and Casdan approached, reaching into the inside pocket of his girdle. He produced a small black stone and presented it to Maradothia. As soon as it made contact with her flesh, a soft white light burned to life in the center of the stone. An image of G’Dalior formed in front of her and he smiled, nodding before he spoke. The young Princess could feel a soft whisper calling to her mind.
“Dee-ra sis-ret… thas-eeree an es-yip fuh-ro val-now ni yo-ru gro-pu, little one. Remember to comb your teeth and floss your hair. All is well with your birds. Don’t forget to study… and mind that sloppy left side.”
“Interesting,” Casdan said with a lifted brow. “Was that some sort of secret code? Speaking in one, long and low tone. And before you ask, you should be made aware of something.” Maradothia’s face gave no sign of reaction to the sight of Quazeki producing the Imperial Seal, hanging from the tell-tale red ribbon denoting the level of the emissary holding it. Count Casdan Quazeki was on official and extremely important business.
“The Regalion likes to remind me of how I used to speak when I was much younger,” Maradothia explained, speaking calmly. “It was then he said I would make a most perfect mage since I already had my own language.” Allowing the seal to turn around, Maradothia could see the white stone that had been set against the back side of the medallion. It measured veracity and usually flashed in the presence of a spoken untruth. The young Princess had already been prepared by her aunt who had taught both her and G’Dalior how to speak truthfully and still lie. Her answer had indeed been true, but it had not been an accurate response to the question. Only the sharper-minded would perceive her verbal maneuvering.
What she had said, however, was very true. When she was very young, she learned to read before she had learned to speak, but neither had come easily. She had a tendency of breaking the word and pronouncing the rear portion as if it had been spelled backwards. So the translation for ‘an es-yip fuh-ro val-now ni yo-ru gro-pu’ was ‘a spy for Valwonn in your group’. But even that code had been hidden inside the single sung note.
“How many times have we called the members of the councils flocks of crahsakis?” she thought, imagining the blue and gold mocking birds that could repeat whole conversations but not know what they were saying. “It has been four days … without a word from anyone… and, according to G’Dalior everything is inside out and upside down. Father must know what I have done… and on this occasion he has decided to handle me through proxy. I can only presume that the Sylgarr appointment has been overturned… if it even reached the Council of the Mage. There are not many ways to play this.”
“If you wanted to be a Maga, why study away from the Imperial Colleges?” Casdan inquired.
“That cannot be why you’re here, Count Casdan,” Maradothia fenced. “And since I know your time is precious, let us dispense with the business that placed my father’s seal in your hands.”
“As you wish, my Princess,” Casdan nodded, taking a moment to turn the truth-stone to face him. “Do you know the current whereabouts of Lady Raynko?”
“What?!” Maradothia said, rising from her chair.
“Hold your place!” one of the guards yelled, putting his hand to his sword. “And answer the Count’s inquiry lest you be arrested in disservice to the Throne!”
“Guard!” Casdan snapped, extending his hand toward the eager young man. “I will remind you that we are in the presence of Imperial blood. Take another offending step in her direction, without my order, and I will weep for your entire line!”
“Count!” the guard said before stepping back to the wall.
“Apologies, my Princess,” Casdan consoled. “I believe it is his first time away from the Inner Rim. It may very well be his last!”
“Not for defending your position, Count,” Maradothia replied as she returned to her seat. “In fact I must ask for your forgiveness. I was surprised by your inquiry. Given your word choice, should I conclude that the Sylgarr Family has been…”
“Removed, my Princess,” Casdan stated. “All of their assets have been confiscated in an effort to pay for the damages done to Imperial properties and interests outside the Inner Rim. Oedelorana has been reseeded to the Raynko Family at the behest of the Empress. The remaining children of the Sylgarr line are tasked with the debts of their father and first born son.”
“By the Stars,” Maradothia said, lowering her forehead to her hand. She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself. “My answer to your inquiry is that I cannot say. I attended a brunch given by what was then Lady Sylgarr. She told me of the loss of her husband as well as that of her oldest son and daughter.” Casdan looked at the stone but it had yet given the first spark of light. “That estate is in the Garnet Barony and my personal recorder should have those coordinates. You are welcome to access it, Count Casdan.”
“She is far more composed than Valwonn warned,” Casdan pondered. “But I am limited as to what I can do here. I am sure the faculty of this school has some means of watching this exchange, even if I cannot detect it.
“We are already aware of that property, Princess,” Casdan shared. “An emissary of this investigation is in talks with the Garnet Barony. But I thank you for your level of cooperation.”
“You should not,” Maradothia stated clearly. “It is clear that you are here on Imperial matters and from the sounds of things, grave matters at that. I am the daughter to the Emperor, but I am also a subject of his kingdom. I will not falter in my service to our people, Count.”
“Spoken like a true regal authority, my Lady,” Quazeki smiled. “I have one last question.”
“Please proceed.”
“Were you aware of the dealings of the late Lord Sylgarr?”
“As they were happening, no. I was only advised of a matter that Falco had experienced some difficulty in resolving. The late Lord Sylgarr apparently rendered to his son some measure of assistance. I do not know the details… save for the fact that it involved pirates.”
“Pirates?!” Casdan asked.
“Yes,” Maradothia said. “One in particular was a captain that Falco had some disagreement with. I believe that disagreement led to his death as well the deaths of Gulfrim and Coletta
Sylgarr.”
“That sounds like some pirate!”
“Is there any other kind?”
“No, I suppose there isn’t,” Quazeki said, putting the seal away. “I think we are done for the moment.”
“I wish you great haste in finding your answers,” Maradothia said, nodding toward the Count.
“And fair studies to you, milady,” Casdan returned. “Though my earlier point stands: why study away from the greatest SpellCasteRs in the Rims?”
“Because while they are the better SpellCasteRs, we cannot say they are among the better instructors,” Maradothia said with a warm smile.
“Allow me to once again to say… spoken like a true Princess. Enjoy the rest of your day.” Casdan signaled to the guards and walked quickly out of the room. Dyanko entered after the last guard departed.
“Are you alright?”
Maradothia looked at the floor for a moment before she put her eyes to her friend. “No, but I am not the only one. This has nothing to do with you, Dyanko–”
“I suppose if I insist on disagreeing with you, you’ll just try to mind-wipe me again, yes?” Maradothia failed to keep surprised from showing on her face. “You really don’t know anything about Purdians, do you?”
“No,” she smiled. “But I am willing to learn. The thought of that pirate being more knowledgeable about the subject does not rest well with me.”
“Then I wish you well in your continued discomfort,” Dyanko said, ushering Maradothia out of the room. “Whatever it is you have planned, might I suggest we advise Prunth and ask if he wishes to accompany us?”
“Prunth? Seriously?”
“You are about to go against the grain of the Inner Rim Empire, Maradothia,” Dyanko stressed. “Just what would you consider to be too many friends?”
