Chapter 18 - Used Expertly

  Jengard Rask shuffled into the small room and closed the door behind him, shutting away the raucous noise of the Drunken Fairy's nighttime common room.

  “I could have used a warning,” Elizia grumbled. The innkeeper had been kind enough to allow her the use of one of three private dining rooms to the inn's rear. By now, news of her presence had spread, and rumors of her purpose were going around, getting twisted and repurposed in ways to catch the most interest —every twist painting her in a more and more negative light. Gossipmongers were the same everywhere it seemed. Elizia's five guards bore the brunt of that ire, sitting in the common room where they surely heard ill spoken words and found scowls and frowns thrown their way.

  “I tried,” Rask said, pulling out a chair.

  Elizia examined the former commander. He had harder lines on his face, and that scruff he called a beard had more grey in it than what her father wore. His figure was as oppressive as ever, even more so within the limited space of this dining room. But something about him felt… less significant than she remembered. She couldn't quite figure out what.

  “I'm going to assume you're here on your own whims and not at all on Lord Serene's orders,” Rask said.

  Elizia flushed. She turned her head away, pretending the candle flame before her was the most interesting thing she'd ever seen. The wax was scented. A calming cinnamon aroma filled the enclosed space. Orange luminite cut into perfect spheres and embedded in the walls gave the place a homely glow —not that that was doing anything to alleviate her worries. “So… Lord Caranel is not a fat ugly drunkard,” she said. If Rask had guessed her purpose through her words, Aarondel Caranel certainly had as well. “Was he the one wearing that shabby black coat?”

  Rask nodded. “He has refused to meet you, I'm afraid.”

  Understandable. At least he wasn't extracting a heavy price for her insults like Jasim would. But a refusal to meet was heavy enough. She couldn't fight him, she no longer had the conviction to kill him, so now she was left with the choice of cooperating with him. The scenario she'd imagined had been reversed. She was the one in need. Elizia wasn't indebted to him directly, but it certainly felt as if she were after she'd insulted the man to his face. “Was the worn coat just a ruse? Did he wear it intentionally to not stand out?”

  Someone knocked at the door.

  “Come in,” Rask said.

  A portly man shuffled in. He gave a short bow, his hands occupied with a full platter in the left and two half-filled tankards in the right. He was mostly bald —dark hair at the sides of his head, and sported a thick mustache but no beard. “Lord Rask,” he said.

  Lord, Elizia thought. That was new.

  “Master Alvar,” Rask smiled. “How much will the total be?”

  Alvar hastily set the food items down and shook his head. “No, no. I couldn't possibly take any money from you. My establishment is thriving thanks to you and the high lord.”

  Elizia took out a pouch from her pockets and fished out a silver crown, knowing full well its worth was many times the meal given. She offered it with a smile. “Then you'll have to accept payment from me,” she said.

  Alvar stared at the coin for a second, hesitating. Lines appeared in his sweat glossed forehead. He hastily rubbed his palms on an already stained white apron before accepting the coin with the slightest of scowls. “Er, thank you, uh, your highness?”

  “Please, Lady Elizia will suffice.”

  Alvar nodded, bowing again before retreating to the common room and closing the door behind him.

  Elizia frowned. “Did I offend him? He didn't look too happy with me.”

  Rask pushed the platter her way and took a tankard for himself, taking a light sip. “You've just about offended the whole town, bringing an army to its gates and insulting their beloved lord, my lady. Word takes mere hours to make the rounds in a town this small.”

  Right. “Beloved lord. So all the rumors of him being no better than his father…”

  “Fabricated,” Rask said. “The coat he wears is not meant to deceive. It has sentimental value to him, I think. But you give credit where it's due. He's very capable.”

  Elizia crossed her arms, stomach grumbling. The aroma of food overpowered the scented candle. “And what's your role in this, Lord Rask,” she asked, gaze lingering on the platter before her. A seared bird breast sat atop it, its grease coating offering a most desirable shine that made her salivate. Next to were sliced carrots and capsicum glazed with gravy. This kind of luxury she'd expect at home in Metsiphon, not in a small town in a region ravaged by pillagers a mere two years past. Her fingers twitched. Near two months living on field rations and now this meal was placed before her. She felt a pang of guilt at the thought of her soldiers who were camped a few miles out, still in the cold, still eating poorly.

  “Pheasant,” Rask said offhandedly. “Likely fresh and hunted today.”

  “Of course it's fresh. It's meat,” Elizia said.

  The old general shook his head. “Snow allows these people to preserve meat over winters —temperatures are still cold enough to allow that. And I'm not a lord, Elizia, so spare this old man the cheek. The people of Red Vine are humble folk, attaching honorifics to those above them.”

  “Not old enough to stop swinging a sword, I'd wager,” Elizia said, smiling. She attacked the breast with her knife. It was tender, the blade biting deep. Steam arose from the incision.

  “Not quite old enough for that,” Rask said.

  “When will you return to father? He's… grown weaker I think. He feels pressed and is afraid.”

  Rask raised a brow. “Lord Serene? Afraid?”

  “Afraid of losing more than he already has,” Elizia said carefully. “He needs strong allies. We need someone like you, General. You inspire confidence.”

  “I…” Rask frowned. “I don't know if I can go back. There's nothing for me to return to. And these people look to me.”

  “We look to you,” Elizia pleaded. “You have us to return to.” She shoved a forkful of meat and carrots into her mouth. How was it Rask had come into Lord Caranel's service anyhow?

  The general shook his head. “I owe the young lord a debt,” he said, as if reading her mind. “I was a wretch, roaming the country drunk, and killing bandits as I went. I came here to kill Lord Aarondel as well. The same rumors you heard brought me here, but they were in their infancy then. Aarondel had been brought by the Trillians, one from the sea scourge that call themselves the Silver Serpents, and a bastard of the kingdom's most infamous womanizer. I had no reason to question the rumors, nor was my addled mind capable of it.” Rask suddenly smiled. “I raised my sword, had him from the shadows I thought. He had me on the ground before I knew what was happening, kicked me in the ribs, then gave me a second chance.”

  Elizia paused midway through tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and raising her fork to her mouth again. “That's… a story, certainly,” she commented.

  “Indeed,” Rask said. He took another sip from his tankard.

  Elizia ate another forkful. The Wolf of Metsiphon was an unexpected find here. Even if her coming here turned into nothing more than a waste of time —and money, and earned me the ire of another high lord— she at least wanted to get Rask to return. That would certainly help her father break out from the cocoon he was spinning around himself. “You really won't give returning home another thought?” she asked softly. Carefully, Elizia began slicing away the greasy, amber colored skin of her pheasant breast to save for last, for it would certainly taste the best.

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  Rask watched her actions with the hint of a smile at the edge of his lips.

  “What?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “You've grown into an admirable woman, my lady, from the unruly and energetic child that used to run around inside the fortress.”

  Elizia flushed. Unruly? Me? That wasn't at all her memory.

  “From once trying to release every horse in the stable to constantly challenging soldiers to a shooting contest from when you learned the bow,” the old general continued.

  Ok, maybe I was a minor disturbance, Elizia relented, face ablaze.

  “But you still have childish habits like that,” Rask finished, pointing at her platter. “Habits like saving the skin or melted cheese from a dish for last.”

  “Why don't you try eating nothing but rations for over a month?” Elizia countered. She regretted it no sooner. Jengard Rask had a number of lengthy campaigns under his belt from since he was no more than a foot soldier in her grandfather's service.

  “It wasn't a criticism, my lady. I'm proud of you, truly. I'm certain Lord Serene is as well, but what you did, coming here with the… intent that you had, is not the Serene way.”

  Elizia's looked down, now both embarrassed and ashamed. She knew these words for herself, but hearing them from an elder she admired and respected added a thicker layer of guilt that threatened to bury her alive. She bit her tongue to prevent her watering eyes from leaking.

  Rask leaned in, his hard face full of genuine concern —something Elizia did not recall ever seeing. “My lady, if I've guessed your intentions, you can be certain Lord Caranel has as well. You… spoke a little too much before the town gates.”

  Elizia chewed on her lip. “I'll just leave if I've nothing to gain here then. Just, well, can you plead with that boy to give me supplies for my return journey? I'll pay if that's what he wants —probably an exorbitant amount I'd imagine, but I've earned that punishment if anything.”

  Rask smiled. “Admitting your faults,” he nodded. “A sign of maturity you once struggled with, I recall.”

  Elizia scowled. She pouted, but the old general only laughed. It didn't work as well on him as it did her father. But Rask's mood seemed lighter now. “Come with me, Rask,” she said, giving another push. “Come home. We need you. The Trillian Vicegerent commands the throne, using Emma as a puppet. She needs our help. Please.” Rask shook his head and Elizia's heart sank.

  “Lord Caranel sees me as something of an advisor,” he said. “You remember those old studies of military theorists, the ones oft speaking their mind about how cruel it was that deaths on the field was not a loss in human life, but a mere statistic to be recorded on a page?”

  Elizia nodded. It was hard to refute those arguments. It'd been a cold awakening to her, when she'd been a girl chasing legends. Before then, war had been a thing of glory and dreams. She'd still gone out, following her mother's footsteps, but never did she revel in killing.

  “Lord Caranel is something of that kind of person. He cares for the people, of that I'm certain, but often he looks at them as a mere number to be added on a sheet, or a tool to be utilised. I've tried steering him from that, and he values my opinion. I fear what he might do if I weren't here.”

  A part of Elizia still rejected the thought of a bastard and once pirate actually caring about a people. “What he might do? What can a boy lord possibly do? Isn't he around my age?”

  “That is what frightens me more,” Rask said. “He doesn't at all act his age. I find myself often wishing he did act it, did go around chasing women as young men do and getting drunk or getting into petty brawls.” Rask took another sip from his mug, frowning to find it empty. He shook his head. “You can't leave, my lady,” he then said. “Not yet. There are… things here that you could get, that Lord Serene I'm certain would also be pleased with. Lord Caranel refused to meet you this night. I'd say he'd be more amicable in a few days, but he's amicable as he is right now. I wager he's doing this on purpose, to worry you. As for feeding your soldiers, that will be done free of charge, to put you in his debt you see.”

  Elizia raised her own tankard to her lips, frowning to find that it was water and not ale. Something hard could have been useful right about now. She tried not to let her worries show. She'd insulted the man, and he'd reacted fast enough to put her in his debt. Rask said he was proud of her. Proud of a fool who'd just gotten herself trapped in a moment of rashness?

  No. This wasn't a single moment. This started before you left Arcaeus. You've been losing yourself to your emotions since you decided to send assassins after Kazir, El. You've been losing yourself to your inner darkness and now look where it's gotten you.

  But what else was she to have done? Sit on her rear and wait for the world to fix itself? Mature enough to admit her faults, Rask had also praised. What good was that if she never fixed those faults and only dug herself deeper and deeper holes? “If I leave now, what would Lord Caranel do?”

  “Little to nothing,” Rask said. “He doesn't have the political connections to make concerning maneuvers and spread ill word like Jasim Galadin does. You'd tarnish the Serene name, but only before the people of Red Vine, and these people would sooner forget that, for they have other worries, and a festival near.”

  Right. The Triluna festival —an event everyone in Metsiphon still celebrated. The few times a year Elizia bothered to put on a dress, and in all honesty, rather enjoyed it too.

  She'd spent the last two years spending both the Triluna and Harvest festivals holed up in Arcaeus, wallowing in her own endless frustrations and shortcomings. “If there's little risk of backlash, I should leave” Elizia argued.

  “You'd lose a lot.”

  “Like?”

  “Food,” Rask said. “Leathers. The possibility of an alliance.”

  “He hates me already. There's no alliance that can be had that would be in any way favorable toward—”

  “Iron,” Rask cut in.

  Elizia frowned. “What?”

  “Lord Caranel has discovered an old mineshaft in the ?ld Mountains. It is rich in iron. He's also discreetly advertised this to Jasim's abused workers, siphoning the man's workforce. As for the price he'd extract for an alliance, I don't think he'd be too happy if I revealed that to you, but I'm sure a man like him has that within his expectations.”

  Elizia took a deep breath and let all this new information stew in her head for a moment. “What is the price?” she then asked.

  “Virk barbarians have crossed the mountain range. They were spotted by our miners over a cycle ago, and wounded one with an arrow. They've not shown themselves since that incident. But the price will likely be troops to defend this region. I know Lord Serene is hard pressed to spare any numbers, but I would ask that you consider this.”

  Elizia crossed her arms. Spare troops for north Xenaria for a contract with Lord Caranel… this wasn't something she could discount. Jasim had been raising the cost of iron steadily —in fact, he'd probably use his labor shortage as another excuse for a soon to be price hike. Depending on the terms Lord Caranel offered… He's looking to not just disrupt Jasim's monopoly, but devour it for himself entirely.

  Elizia had vastly underestimated him. She felt a bead of sweat gather at her brow. “Tell him I'm willing to negotiate,” she then said.

  Rask nodded. “Be wary, my lady. Everything you know and have seen —the sentries in villages, the patrols in the region and the bandit infestation taken care of, they were all of Lord Aarondel's design. You asked me what my role was, my lady. My role in this has only been training soldiers and offering advice on occasion.”

  Elizia nodded. “I should probably get myself and the guards rooms for the night.”

  The old general shook his head. “All booked. New workers from down south and all. We're building more houses and expanding the town, but a lot of them have rented out rooms at Master Alvar's fine establishment here for several days.”

  “Oh,” Elizia said. Another night outside in the cold it was then. And preceding it all would be a walk of shame through the inn's common room and through the streets of Red Vine, angry glares following in her wake.

  ***

  Jengard Rask found his new lord standing at the watchtower at Red Vine's southern gate. If Aaron was at all bothered by the cold, he did not show it. He was watching Elizia leave the town's vicinity on horseback, her guards trailing after her.

  “Your talk with the First Princess extended longer than I was expecting,” Aaron suddenly said.

  “It's been two years,” Rask said. “We had some catching up to do.”

  “Mhm. And how much of my intentions did you divulge to her, Commander?”

  “I—” Rask paused mid answer. There was no use in lying, in playing both sides on this. He cared for Elizia, but he had a duty to his new lord as well. Best to be honest. “I've made mention of your iron discoveries. Lady Elizia is open to negotiations. I've also asked her to be wary of you.”

  Aarondel turned, eyes narrowed. He broke out in a smile. “Wary? Now why would she need to do that?”

  Rask scowled. His eyes then went wide with realization. “You did this on purpose. You suspected me of colluding with her, and got angry, forcing me into action, into setting up our defenses, all for a show. You… used me. And most expertly.” Oddly, Rask found that fact more amusing than upsetting. But diluted in that amusement were traces of fear. This boy is far more dangerous than I give him credit for.

  “Coming from the Wolf of Metsiphon, I shall accept that as a compliment.”

  Rask scratched his head, unsure of how to react to this. Aarondel turned his gaze back toward Elizia, who had just crested a hill. The three sisters were out in the sky, letting the shadows of the six horsemen extend far. They were near to full, the moons. Not many days before all three were whole —the night of the festival.

  Elizia and company disappeared behind the hill. Lady Sar'tara would certainly be proud of her daughter. She'd grown well, and was a capable legion captain, but she still had much to learn in controlling her emotions. That she'd come here in the north with the thought of annexation was worrying —Aarondel should certainly have guessed at that intent, but he expressed no thought or worry, instead seeming perfectly in control.

  “You will meet with her tomorrow, then?” Rask questioned.

  Aaron sighed. “No,” he said, turning his gaze to the star-swept sky. There was still a grin on his face. “I'll give it a few days, let her sleep out in the cold and grow more irate, so she's less wary and more unstable at the negotiating table. Perhaps by then Viper will have returned to help eavesdrop on her conversations with others.”

  Rask's eyes went wide. He'd forgotten to warn Elizia to watch her tongue. He couldn't oust the Shadow Walker's existence —that, he felt, would be too great a betrayal. But a warning at least…

  Aaron turned to him again. “You're forbidden from accessing Lady Serene's camp, Commander. And also forbidden from speaking to any of her soldiers or messengers that comes and goes from Red Vine. If you do, I will hear of it, and there will be consequences.”

  Ashes. “As you wish,” Rask answered, lowering his head. He could only hope Elizia would keep her wits about herself. But even then, he wondered how much good that would do in the presence of a man like Aarondel Caranel.