Valkyrie's Shadow-Chapter 5Before the Storm: Act 11,

Chapter 5

Does this mean I have even more work to do now?

Liam remained unmoving as Countess Beaumont silently digested Lady Albedo’s ultimatum. That ultimatum was also a chance, however: one that few in Re-Estize would be offered in the face of its imminent doom.

“I have heard from Liam that the Sorcerous Kingdom still mostly operates under Re-Estize law,” the Countess said. “With that being the case, it would be far better to serve His Majesty the Sorcerer King than remain a vassal of House Blumrush.”

Lady Albedo’s imperious expression did not change, but Liam had worked for the Sorcerous Kingdom long enough to know that it was a good response. Those who grovelled out of a sense of self-preservation were seen as little more than fodder. They were never more than tools that could be disposed of at a moment’s notice. Those who responded with thought and purpose, on the other hand, were afforded at least some consideration.

It was the exact opposite of what most assumed would be the case from a nation ‘ruled by Demons and the Undead’. To those who rose through the ranks of ruthless street gangs and criminal syndicates like the Eight Fingers, it was an incomprehensible dynamic.

Liam eyed Olin out of the corner of his eye. The man remained standing at one end of the drawing room’s central table, clutching a wooden casket in his hands. In all likelihood, he had probably thought to curry favour with some ‘tribute’, but Liam highly doubted that Lady Albedo would treat it in the same way as the heartfelt sacrifices offered to the Sorcerer King by Demihuman tribes.

“And what would you have us do, Lady Albedo?” Olin asked.

Lady Albedo’s gaze turned malevolent as she regarded the Eight Fingers executive. Olin took a step backwards, his mask of confidence peeling away to expose a mix of uncertainty and fear.

“It is apparent that you still have not learned the meaning of obedience,” the Prime Minister answered in an icy tone.

“W-Wait, what–”

“The Eight Fingers were ordered to wind down their illegal operations in Re-Estize. You have done the opposite.”

“But I received permission from House Blumrush!”

“Do you think me a fool, Human?” Lady Albedo said as she continued to smile, “Or do you perhaps consider me on the same level as the worms who seek any excuse to justify the pursuit of their petty vices?”

“I would never–”

“You have actively interdicted trade, and the parasitic practices of your subordinates suppresses the regional economy. Your actions are in such clear opposition to the intent of my directives that I cannot help but think that they were done on purpose.”

“No! I didn’t mean it! I-I didn’t know!”

“Your weakness is expected, but your abject ignorance is a sin.”

Olin swallowed audibly, the blood draining from his face. Lady Albedo put Liam’s reports away as she rose to her feet.

“You are to cease all problematic operations immediately,” Albedo told Olin. “After that, you will join the others in the capital. Do not tarry for long: His Majesty’s Royal Army will not recognise you at a glance.”

So much for all of his big plans.

Liam felt just a bit sorry for the guy. All of the ‘success’ he had achieved in his life came from conducting criminal activities. He had probably done everything without thinking, assuming that the Sorcerous Kingdom would interpret his achievements the same way an executive of the Eight Fingers would. He would have a rough time going forward…if he survived at all.

After Olin rushed out of the manor, Liam used one of his Message scrolls to call for a Gate. Lady Shalltear seemed none too pleased about needing to ‘taxi’ the Prime Minister around, but the portal appeared a moment later anyway.

“Your Excellency,” Lady Beaumont said. “How long do we have to achieve our…objective?”

“Considering the meagre means of travel employed by your society,” Lady Albedo replied, “it should take roughly two weeks before Blumrush’s envoy returns to Re-Estize’s Royal Court with the verification that they seek. I will arrive then to officially receive their response.”

Not that their response would matter. The Sorcerous Kingdom had already decided that there would be a war, so war it would be.

“Hey! How long are you going to make me hold this thing open, you stupid gorilla?”

Lady Albedo’s lip twitched as Lady Shalltear’s voice drifted through the Gate. Liam and Lady Beaumont lowered their heads as the Prime Minister turned to leave, not raising them again until well after the portal vanished.

“She wasn’t who I expected her to be,” the Countess said.

“Lady Albedo? How so?”

“She’s far more beautiful than the rumours described,” the young noblewoman said. “And the thing is that her appearance dominated the gossip surrounding her, as if it was her only noteworthy aspect.”

“That’s just how things are in Re-Estize, isn’t it?” Liam said, “Men are recognised for their ability while women are admired for their beauty.”

“Which is exactly what I’m getting at,” Lady Beaumont said as she went to collect her things from the table. “Women who show great capabilities are usually maligned, and Lady Albedo seems to be a very capable woman. Does that mean she’s been concealing her true nature on purpose?”

“You’d think that being the Prime Minister already tells everyone that she’s a capable person.”

“Even that part is strange,” the Countess told him. “Normally, there would be all sorts of criticisms and slander being propagated behind the back of a woman who managed to attain such a prominent office.”

Liam was born a subject of Re-Estize, but he had next to no experience with its high society. In terms of life in a town, girls had their troubles, but things didn’t seem anywhere near as oppressive as it was in the aristocratic establishment. His time in the Holy Kingdom mirrored that experience.

“Maybe they’re just that scared of the Sorcerous Kingdom,” Liam said. “What do you think of her?”

“I like her,” Lady Beaumont said. “She obviously knows her business, and she’s very austere. All things considered, it’s a mystery why none of the lords with fiefs bordering the Sorcerous Kingdom haven’t long switched sides.”

“Does that mean you’re fine with what we’re going to do?”

The Countess’ hands stopped moving as she froze, half-bent, over the table.

“I’m comfortable with the idea of siding with the Sorcerous Kingdom,” she said, “but I haven’t a clue as to how I will be able to play the role that I’ve been assigned. Not on such short notice, at any rate. Do…do you think you could just dispose of all of the messengers trying to leave the city?”

He was afraid of that. For all of the progress she had shown since he had met her, Countess Beaumont was just a regular Noble. Her paths to power mostly lay in political manoeuvring and economic development, both of which operated on time frames of years, decades, and generations in Re-Estize. He couldn’t immediately come up with anything she could do with only two weeks to work with.

“That’s not a plan that would work,” Liam said. “I can’t guard every possible route a messenger might use at all times of the day, and it’s not as if I’ll magically know who to target. How about working with your allies?”

“Hmm…”

In all honesty, there wasn’t much to hope for there either. In the week or two since the region’s Nobles had gathered in the city, two large factions had formed. Simply put, they were split into the haves and have-nots. They basically represented the same interests of the same two sides that had formed during the meeting that Countess Beaumont had hosted, except that the entire nobility had now joined the fray. The ‘third faction’ cobbled together by the Eight Fingers quickly disintegrated as reality came to the fore, their members relegated to the backdrop as established aristocrats wrested control from what they saw as a group of inexperienced nobodies.

Lady Beaumont still managed to maintain her closest ties, but her voice was next to nonexistent in the new dynamic. She was seen as a Countess in name alone, with nothing to offer that might affect the balance of power.

And a very lopsided balance of power it was. On one side was a group whose primary goal was to simply survive to the next harvest. On the other was a coalition of lords who presided over the majority of the region’s agricultural production. What bargaining power the former possessed had been whittled to near nothing by an endless tide of desperate refugees from the north that would do anything to feed themselves and their families.

“In the end,” Lady Beaumont said, “anything we try will require provisions that we don’t have and can’t afford. Well, I suppose there’s always Count Renault and his camp.”

“We’re supposed to be disrupting communications,” Liam said sourly, “not raiding villages for food.”

“I know,” the Countess sighed. “But with things as they are, I can’t think of any way to do this without ending up in open hostilities with the other faction.”

“If that happens,” Liam said, “they’re going to put pointy sticks into the hands of every refugee that flees into the Azerlisian Marches and point them in our direction.”

“Actually,” Lady Beaumont said, “I’m not worried about that.”

“You’re not?”

The young noblewoman finished organising her things and gestured for Liam to follow her out of the room. Claire stirred from her place in the hallway and fell into step behind them.

“The lowland lords might control most of the food stores,” the Countess said, “but that doesn’t mean they have unlimited amounts of it. Historically, they’ve produced enough for themselves and the other territories in the region. While winter didn’t come early here, the weather hasn’t exactly been ideal this year. No one can afford open fighting because everyone will starve if it happens. That may be one reason why Lady Albedo wants to keep us out of the coming war.”

“I wouldn’t make Lady Albedo any nicer than she is,” Liam said.

“Do you have something against her?”

“Not really. I’m just saying that she’s not doing it to be nice. You heard her just now: she’s just salvaging what can be salvaged.”

That being said, they were no closer to figuring out how to ‘salvage’ the situation than before. Stopping one or two messengers was a simple enough task so long as he knew who he was looking for, but ‘disrupting communications’ for an extended period was another matter entirely. Too many things could go wrong when their resources were so limited.

Liam accompanied Lady Beaumont as she went about her tasks for the day, which mostly consisted of organising the shipments of food that she had secured from her closest allies. Wagons needed to be maintained, caravaneers paid, and a suitable escort set up under the handful of men who showed promise in leadership roles. It was a set of mundane, yet necessary tasks that took up a surprising amount of time. The Countess didn’t bring up Albedo’s instructions again until they sat down for dinner that same evening.

“Our path forward might be clearer if we had more information,” she said.

“What kind of information?” Liam asked.

“Oh, you know. Information about House Blumrush’s activities. They should have received instructions from the Marquis in addition to what the envoy came for. And then there’s how everyone else will react to what they learn…”

It sounded like more complicated Noble stuff. Nothing was ever straightforward with them. Even things as simple as choosing what to have for lunch seemed to be layered with meanings that Liam didn’t care to think about.

“I can take a look around if you want,” Liam said. “But there isn’t much time to think about what to do.”

“I understand that, but, as it is now, anything I try is essentially flailing around in the dark.”

Liam wolfed down his meal before excusing himself from the Countess’ table. With a little bit of luck, he would be able to spy on some of the prominent houses while their members were gathered for dinner.

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As he left the manor and made his way out of the grounds, he crossed paths with Reed. The Ranger looked a bit beaten under the shadow of his mantle, though his weariness didn’t show in his long stride.

“That was quick,” Liam said.

“It’s just me,” Reed replied. “The caravan’s still gettin’ over the pass.”

“Did you run into trouble?”

“Naw, nothin’ like that. Figured I’d report in so they’re ready for the handoff when our wagons arrive.”

Reed and his men had spent the last two weeks escorting a caravan carrying food to Beaumont County, and then returning with the fuel promised in exchange. The route didn’t go through Re-Blumrushur, but the lords of the respective destination territories were all present in the city.

“How are things out in the countryside?” Liam asked.

“Word ‘bout the famine’s gotten out along the highway,” Reed answered. “People are stocking up what they can and it’s drivin’ the prices for everything up.”

“Everything?” Liam frowned, “Not just food?”

“Well, you know how those Merchants are,” the Ranger spat onto the lawn beside the lane. “They play the rumours, the rumours that come with the rumours, and all the little worries that the people end up with. Wouldn’t be surprised if they seeded most of those worries in the first place.”

“I hope no one’s been trying to make some coin for themselves by selling bits of your cargo…”

“Not that I’ve noticed,” Reed replied. “Our cargo matched the manifest every step of the way. I admit I’m kinda surprised at that.”

“It’s a good thing, at least,” Liam said. “Do you know if it’s the same with the other groups?”

“Couldn’t tell ya. Haven’t come across ‘em much since they started reportin’ directly to Lady Beaumont. Oh, speaking of other groups, we got more and more guys lookin’ to join up.”

“Because they want to help, or because they want to get paid?”

“Why not both?”

“…I guess you’ll have to talk to Lady Beaumont about that,” Liam said.

Liam pondered the potential for extra manpower as he continued on his way. Knowing the Countess, she would see them as a way to improve order and security in her fief. The problem was that House Beaumont’s revenues weren’t high enough to keep so many men on retainer. Even if they were, House Beaumont didn’t have the means to ensure their quality. As he had learned, cultivating competent regiments of professional armsmen was a process that took generations. Most of Re-Estize had lost that capability due to the imprudence of their aristocrats.

The toll of a temple bell drifted over the wall of the upper city. Liam picked up his steps. The first destination he would ‘visit’ would be the most obvious one, which was Blumrush Castle. He had previously walked around its premises to familiarise himself with the place, but hadn’t had any reason to linger for long until now.

The few household servants he came across paid him little mind as they rushed to finish their evening errands, which didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. Liam concealed himself in the shadows of a long hedge as he drew close to the castle, keeping an ear open to the chatter of the sentries as he mentally marked their positions.

“Hey, what’s the mess putting out tonight?”

“Fish stew and rye bread.”

“And?”

“Water.”

“Fuck. Cheapasses could at least pretend to measure up to the pleasure quarter.”

“If you like it there so much, then why not head there instead?”

“I would if they hadn’t cleaned me out last night. I’ll win it all back next week, though.”

Liam frowned to himself as he made his way along the castle wall, listening in on three other, similarly bland, conversations. The relaxed attitude of the Blumrush armsmen suggested that either they had received no orders that would have them break from their usual routines. He would have to find one of the higher-ups if he wanted to learn anything noteworthy.

He scaled a section of the wall with braziers that had fallen behind on refuelling, swiftly dropping down the opposite side into the castle yard. Unlike the relative quiet on the outside, the yard was alive with activity due to Lord Reginald’s move to control Re-Blumrushur’s industry. A large portion of the city’s workshops had their contents relocated to create dozens of workstations where artisans from the city toiled under the watchful eye of House Blumrush. With so many people moving about, it was a simple matter to blend in and take a closer look at what was going on.

As it had throughout the winter, Castle Blumrush churned out a steady flow of manufactured goods required for the city’s reconstruction. Everything from nails and timber beams to tools and furniture could be spotted in various stages of completion or in the covered stockpiles awaiting delivery to the lower city. It wasn’t until he almost reached the castle’s keep that he found the first clues as to how House Blumrush was reacting to news of the war.

A column of several men in carpenters’ garb was roughly escorted to an open spot near the entrance of the castle armoury, where a rotund official in Blumrush colours awaited them with crossed arms.

“You have a new task,” the official said as the men formed a row in front of his platform. “These timbers are to be fashioned into serviceable poles.” fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

“Poles?” One of the carpenters wrinkled his nose as he looked up at the official, “Isn’t it too early to get started on spring tools?”

“They’re for spears, you cretin! I expect this lot to be ready by the morning.”

The official’s shout didn’t go unnoticed by the artisans working nearby. They kept their heads down, however, even as more of their fellows were picked out by armsmen and brought to the armoury. Liam watched as Blacksmiths were ordered to begin fashioning spearheads and kettle hats, Tailors were put to work producing gambesons, and an array of other artisans were organised to ready the various sundries and provisions essential to facilitating soldiers on campaign.

It won’t take long for the rest of the city to find out about this.

Once the current shift ended, word would spread like wildfire throughout the common districts and beyond. To Liam, the entire exercise of preparing a levy to go to war against the Sorcerous Kingdom felt futile. To the people of Re-Estize, however, there wasn’t much of a choice.

Satisfied with what he had gleaned from the castle yard, Liam proceeded to sneak over the nearby wall to scale the keep on its river-facing side. With House Blumrush being as extravagant and self-indulgent as rumoured, he had no shortage of handholds to take advantage of as he made his way to the topmost balcony of the embellished structure. No guards were posted: not that they would expect anyone to crawl up the side of the castle: and he settled himself comfortably out of sight.

A few metres away from the balcony was a broad desk, where Lord Reginald was seated facing the interior of a spacious office. As Liam had hoped, he caught the lordling partaking of his evening meal. Unlike most lords, however, he wasn’t using the time to discuss anything with anyone. Instead, he reclined leisurely as he enjoyed the melodic strains from an unseen harpist.

Maybe I should have stayed down below…

Considering the dire situation Re-Estize found itself in, Marquis Blumrush had possibly drawn up direct orders to various key subordinates rather than leaving his son to figure things out. Liam sighed as he prepared to climb back down, but then a voice from the office brought him back to the balcony entrance.

“Lord Reginald, my apologies for interrupting your meal, but Lord Forbin is demanding to see you.”

“Forbin?” Lord Reginald replied, “What does he want?”

“He wishes to speak about the message you just sent him.”

“It’s not my message,” Lord Reginald said as he raised the silver cutlery he was wielding in each hand. “They’re orders from my Lord Father.”

“Be that as it may, my lord…”

The sound of the harp abruptly halted as Lord Reginald’s utensils clattered onto his plate.

“Fine,” he said. “Take all this away. This onerous business spoils the appetite.”

Four Maids appeared to prepare the office for Lord Reginald’s meeting with Lord Forbin. Liam had to leap over the side of the balcony to avoid the notice of a broom-wielding Maid who approached with terrifying rapidity. He held his breath as a cloud of dust and debris was swept over the edge to be picked up by the evening wind. Five minutes later, the Maids disappeared as swiftly as they had appeared, replaced by a middle-aged man in colourful, finely-tailored garb that gave off a militant air.

“Good evening, Count Forbin,” Lord Reginald said as he rose in greeting. “It distresses me to hear that you do not wish to comply with the Marquis’ orders.”

“Compliance has nothing to do with it, Lord Reginald,” the Count replied tersely. “These orders are practically impossible to carry out.”

“Yet you are obliged to do so at your liege’s call,” Lord Reginald said. “Given that we used to do this every year, I find it hard to believe that you cannot do it after two.”

“We managed then because there was ample forewarning,” Count Forbin said. “Mustering the levy and preparing the provisions required to field them cannot be done on such short notice!”

Liam wondered what sort of schedule had been outlined in the Marquis’ missive. He already knew that the Sorcerous Kingdom would attack long before Re-Estize would have a chance to fully assemble its forces, but, as far as Re-Estize was concerned, they were still conducting diplomacy.

“Lord Reginald,” a middle-aged butler said from the entrance of the office, “Lord Laval wishes to speak with you.”

Lord Reginald and Lord Forbin shared a look.

“See him in,” Lord Reginald released a long-suffering sigh. “It’s probably about the same thing anyway.”

Moments later, a moustached Noble sporting the same style of militant fashion as Count Forbin strode into the room.

“Count Laval,” Lord Reginald nodded.

“Not the first to arrive, I see,” Count Laval said.

“Are you implying that there are more to come?” Lord Reginald said sourly.

“Who knows?” Lord Laval replied with the ghost of a smile, “In all seriousness, Lord Reginald, I would not be surprised. These orders from the Marquis are utterly unreasonable. Only a fool would follow them blindly.”

Unlike Countess Beaumont and several of the other young aristocrats he had observed, the two men standing before Lord Reginald showed little in the way of deference to the Marquis’ son. Lord Reginald clearly recognised that, and it was a testament to their standing that he couldn’t resort to his usual tactics to cow them.

“Lord Laval is correct,” a third Noble said as he entered the office. “A full levy at this time would see our fields half-sown and the winter’s damage unrepaired. This is not exactly a wise course of action coming off the back of last autumn’s disastrous harvest.”

“My Lord Father did not issue these orders for his personal amusement, Count Monfort,” Lord Reginald said. “They are necessary for the defence of the realm.”

“Necessary, yet impossible,” Count Monfort said. “Scutage is the only option.”

“Scutage?” Lord Reginald said, “And what do you propose we do with that?”

“There seems to be no shortage of Mercenaries around Re-Blumrushur these days…”

Lord Reginald scoffed.

“I assure you, my lord, no amount of gold will be able to secure Mercenaries for the coming conflict.”

The three Counts frowned in unison.

“What do you mean by that?” Lord Laval asked, “Surely they will be more than happy to accept payment to crush all of the peasant revolts this famine is bound to incite.”

In response, Lord Reginald snatched up a half-furled roll of parchment and tossed it on the desk in front of him. The three men paled as they read what was written upon it.

“Any other questions?” Lord Reginald asked.

“No, Lord Reginald,” Count Forbin answered. “The situation is clear to us now.”

“Good. I have no idea when this war will start, but I highly doubt that our adversary will wage it at our convenience.”

The Nobles bowed slightly before turning to leave the room. Liam listened to several more meetings: all of which followed a similar pattern of discussion: before climbing back down the keep and leaving the castle.

What do we do now?

As if things weren’t complicated enough, an army would be gathering from all over the Azerlisian Marches. While it wouldn’t be composed of professional fighting men, their numbers would be more than sufficient to make the open use of force to stop communications impossible. Not that he had the ability to command House Beaumont’s forces against them in the first place.

Command?

On a whim, he used one of his Message scrolls.

『Hey Raul, you still around?』

『I’m still up in these mountains, if that’s what you mean.』

『I want your opinion on this new job we got from Lady Albedo. Can you come to the city?』

『Can’t you just tell me over the Message spell?』

『It’ll run out before I can do that.』

『Alright. It’ll take a couple of hours for me to get there, though. Where do I meet you?』

『The higher-ups have maps of Re-Blumrushur from my reports. I’ll be at the Beaumont Manor in the upper city.』

When Liam returned to the manor, Countess Beaumont rushed down the stairs to meet him at the entrance. To Liam’s surprise, Baroness Illerand came down after her.

“Liam, this is terrible!” She said, “Marquis Blumrush has ordered all of his vassals to raise their levies.”

“I heard,” Liam replied. “How long ago did you receive the order?”

“Just after you left,” Lady Beaumont said. “Illerand here came to consult with me on the matter. They want our men camped outside the city by the end of the month, which is simply impossible.”

“You’re not the only one saying that,” Liam said. “But the Nobles I listened in on are going to try anyway.”

“How does that affect…you know…”

“About that,” Liam said, “I called Raul over. He might have some ideas.”

“Raul?”

“Oh, uh, I guess you’ve never met him. He’s the guy who helped Reed’s gang thin out the wildlife near your territory. At any rate, he should be here before midnight.”

“In that case,” the Countess said, “I should offer some hospitality. What is his station?”

“He’s just a guy like me,” Liam said. “A couple of years older, I guess.”

Two hours later, one of Reed’s men brought Raul to the entrance of the manor. Raul shook the rain from his mantle before stepping inside.

“Hey,” Liam said.

“Hey,” said Raul. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“Come upstairs,” Liam said. “Lady Beaumont had some dinner made for you.”

The Countess awaited their arrival in the drawing room of her solar, where Claire served dinner to their late-night guest. Raul’s gaze went between Lady Beaumont, Claire, and Liam as the buxom Maid returned to stand near Liam.

“What?” Liam said.

“Nothing,” Raul replied. “Thanks for the meal, by the way.”

“A pleasure, Mister Raul,” Lady Beaumont smiled. “Liam mentioned that you might be able to help us out in some way.”

“I haven’t even heard what this is all about yet,” Raul said with a pointed look at Liam.

As Raul ate his meal, Liam described their situation, including the admittedly generic instructions that Lady Albedo had left with them. Raul didn’t ask any questions as he listened, but he did ask for a map of the March once he finished eating. All they could provide was a trade map that only showed the area’s settlements and their connecting routes. Rault glanced over the thing before he looked back up at Liam.

“So you have to stop anyone from reaching the capital?” Raul asked.

“We’re supposed to disrupt communications to the Kingdom’s heartlands,” Liam answered.

“Same thing, pretty much. I can do it.”

Liam and Countess Beaumont blinked blankly at Raul’s words.

“You can?” Liam asked.

“Yeah,” Raul smirked. “It’ll be easy.”