Winter's Crown: Act 3, Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The night passed, and the sounds of the morning started to filter quietly into her solar. Ludmila found herself as alert as she had been the previous day, with no real sense of fatigue. Her eyes were getting itchy, however, as she had just spent the last six hours curled up in bed to catch up on her reading. Was there a magical solution for dry eyes, as well?

Aemilia appeared at her usual time, walking in to ask if there was anything Ludmila needed. She then went over to the desk to pick up the night’s work. Her maid stopped and stared at the documents piled high in the outbox.

“I-is that ring really safe, my lady?” She asked, “Something like this can’t be healthy.”

“I am feeling perfectly fine, Aemilia,” Ludmila replied. “Besides, Lord Mare said as much, no?”

“Still, it feels awfully o–”

Ludmila looked up at her maid, who had suddenly ceased speaking. She followed the line of Aemilia’s shocked gaze, and the chain of the collar clinked as her fingers reached up to brush against it. The book in her other hand tilted upwards, blocking her maid’s line of sight.

“I don’t understand why it has to be a collar my lady,” Aemilia both looked and sounded entirely displeased. “It even has a chain! Whoever made that thing surely had deviant tastes.”

“The important part is whether it works, yes?” A note of embarrassment managed to creep into Ludmila’s tone, despite efforts to keep her voice even, “Well, I guess it does feel a bit…”

“Obscene, my lady?”

“O-obscene…”

“Yes – walking out in the middle of the night with a powerful young nobleman, accepting a collar with a chain from him in a lonely garden. And then…well, it’s just the story that certain bored women with far too much time would eat up.”

“This sounds awfully specific coming from you,” Ludmila peered at her maid. “You wouldn’t happen to be a fan of such ‘stories’, would you?”

“Of course not, my lady.”

Ludmila eyed her maid suspiciously for a moment before removing the collar, placing it on the nightstand beside the bed. Then she imagined someone walking in to see it there and snatched it off, hiding the item under the covers.

“I-I mean, if everyone is wearing them, then it would not seem so odd, would it?”

“It would, my lady.”

“I meant–never mind.”

Ludmila sighed, realizing that she shouldn’t be so openly discussing Adventurer Guild business, and Aemilia left with the night’s work. Flipping back her covers, she glowered down at the collar. Aemilia was right – why wasn’t it a necklace or something that wasn’t so…conspicuous? Was it actually a slave collar: designed to keep chattel weak while they toiled and became better at whatever intricate labour they might be used for? None of her dresses could conceal it…maybe a scarf would work – a thick one.

In the end, she decided it wasn’t worth the risk of being caught wearing the thing in public and stuffed it into her Infinite Haversack.

Upon completing her preparations for the day, Ludmila left the manor two hours before noon. She made her way to the main plaza, taking in the sight of the market and its people. Browsing around for an hour or so every day had become a sort of ritual to her: what amounted to a sort of indulgence as far as her activities went.

There were still important things to be done while doing so, however. As her demesne continued to be absent of temple staff, she needed to keep an eye out for medical supplies – tinctures, herbal remedies and such – and staying apprised of new products and ideas circulating amongst the city folk and visiting merchants from abroad.

Her thoughts about the public health of her demesne led her into the cathedral as she walked by. She came across a young Acolyte sweeping the stairs on the way in, who looked up at her with wide eyes.

“L-Lady Zahradnik,” she said. “What, uh…”

“I hope the day finds you well, Acolyte,” Ludmila nodded at her with a smile. “Is Bishop Austine available?”

The Acolyte clutched her broom, continuing to stare up at her until she realized that she had been asked a question.

“Blessings of The Six be upon yo–no, wait. I mean yes. To both. Um…he’s in his office – His Excellency, I mean.”

She turned away, cringing on herself as she led Ludmila through the hallway to the Bishop’s office. Ludmila wondered if this Acolyte was an acquaintance of Aemilia’s. The reaction certainly seemed like it was from someone that had their head filled with all sorts of lofty ideas about her. She was let into the office, and the Acolyte scurried away.

The Bishop’s desk was empty, and Ludmila made her way deeper inside, unsure if she should actually be doing so. Stepping forward towards the front desk, a glance down the nearest aisle of shelves found him bent at a strange angle as he appeared to be struggling with a book.

“Your Excellency?”

He jumped at her voice, and embarrassment crept up her neck over startling the Bishop of E-Rantel.

“Lady Zahradnik?” Bishop Austine peered at her, “I’m sorry, I must have missed your coming in…”

“The Acolyte from the front brought me in without saying anything, actually. My apologies for entering unannounced.”

“It’s fine,” he said, “it’s fine…hmm, that one is quite impressionable – I can just imagine how she reacted upon seeing you.”

“Impressionable…I hope Miss Luzi has not been too much trouble.”

“No, not at all,” the Bishop replied with a short laugh. “She manages to stay awake for at least half of those lectures at least. I think I slept through most of them back in the day.”

“She made it sound as if nothing about them has changed since Bohdan’s time,” Ludmila said.

“Some things have changed,” Bishop Austine said, “but a lot of those lessons are from Bohdan’s materials, I think. The man was a visionary: far ahead of his time. If not for his missionary work, we’d probably still be relying on the stuff from the south that he was raised on.”

“Is it really that different in the Theocracy?”

“In a word: yes,” he told her. “It’s different; yet the same, if that makes any sense to you. I’m sure your friend, Countess Corelyn, has told you about it from the pilgrimages that her family made during her childhood.”

“The gist of what I have heard from her is that they are more aggressive in the south.”

“Broadly speaking, that should be the most concise way to put it. This shift towards a more aggressive stance in the south has resulted in some remarkably drastic differences in our views developing in the past two centuries.”

“Do your superiors ever say anything about how we practice the faith here?”

“The Cardinal I report to hasn’t said much of anything beyond some questions here and there,” Bishop Austine said. “Nothing resembling an attempt to influence our direction. The Pontifex and his High Council are not fools: they understand that what we do here is the best way to approach things given our circumstances. The work of the missionaries that came here when the land was settled was derived from how our faith operated back in the days when the Theocracy was not in the favourable position it enjoys now, so it isn’t as if we’re doing anything heretical. If anything, we’re closer to the original form.”

“I see,” Ludmila glanced down at the book in his hands. “Was there something you needed assistance with? You looked to be struggling with something.”

“You mean this?” He looked down at the book as well, “It’s not exactly something I would consider a problem. We’ve been adding more to the archives as we slowly document all the families that have returned to the faith, and the shelves are getting packed. There was a bit of space that I saw here and I thought maybe I could get it in somehow. We’re still going to have to expand the archives soon.”

“That is an encouraging thing to hear,” Ludmila said. “Speaking of families, what are your thoughts on how I handled that matter in my demesne?”

“That matter…ah, you mean the young girl who showed an affinity towards being a Ranger.”

“Yes, Jelena Roscoe. It was so important that I cannot help but worry about whether my response was appropriate or not.”

“You did the right thing,” the Bishop told her. “Not even an ordained priest could have done better with the same resources on hand – you’ve been taught well. When she matures a bit, you’ll need to bring her to a place where she can be examined for any Talents…you know, this whole event strikes me as fitting.”

“Fitting, Your Excellency?”

“Yes, fitting,” he nodded. “You, too, have the so-called ‘tells of the blood’ – the latent potential of your bloodline manifesting within you. Now, you have become a mentor to another one such as yourself.”

“…I was not aware of that.”

“I can probably see why,” he said. “It was identified when you were young, and it was purposely kept from your knowledge. Your parents were always wary of anything that might negatively impact the development of their children, and they also had that same humility of yours that almost feels like a pride of its own.”

“I see…” Ludmila furrowed her brow, “Do ‘tells of the blood’ have anything to do with the blood of the gods passed down through humanity?”

“Sometimes, but with you,” Bishop Austine said with a slight smile. “You’d have been whisked off to the Theocracy immediately if that were the case. There are many bloodlines in the world: your strengths clearly manifested when you were young – younger than Jelena, even. Given your schooling, I’m half-surprised you didn’t recognize it on your own but, then again, it’s usually more easily noticed by others. Also though I say that you’ve manifested bloodline traits, we’re not actually sure which one of your bloodlines did…”

“I am a scion of House Zahradnik, am I not?” Confusion crept into her voice, “That should mean my line is that of Andrei Zahradnik.”

“Well, bloodlines are sometimes mysterious and difficult to trace but, in your case, it is quite simple for at least two of them. The bloodline of Andrei Zahradnik comes from your father, and then there is your mother’s bloodline. Come to think of it, she manifested hers as well.”

“If I recall correctly,” Ludmila’s confusion grew, “my mother was a Gold-rank Adventurer. That is quite average for a professional Adventurer, as far as I understand.”

“She was registered as a Gold-rank Adventurer, yes,” Bishop Austine told her. “She was clearly far more powerful than that, but that’s all she really cared to let on. Her priorities lay in defending her home and raising her family…you are actually just like her, in that regard: the spark of adventure never had any draw for you, even as a young and impressionable child. My apologies if I come off as insensitive in saying so, but Gold-rank Adventurers stand absolutely no chance against powerful Demihumans from the Abelion Wilderness – like the one she reportedly slew before perishing herself.”

Ludmila went over and seated herself on the chair facing the Bishop’s desk, trying to make sense of her mother’s story. Had she just come up with a misunderstanding on her own? Her parents never spoke much of the past beyond what was relevant to their instruction. There probably wasn’t even a reason for the Bishop to lie about it, was there?

“Then who was she?” She asked, “You say I may have manifested the traits of her bloodline, but I have no clue as to what it is.”

“Like Andrei Zahradnik, your mother was from the south – beyond the Theocracy and the Elven Kingdom. A match made by the Temples for your father.” He smiled slightly, “Knowing how he was, I’m sure you’d agree on how he would have been terrible at finding a wife.”

“I suppose so,” she replied, unable to return his humour. “But why would the Temples match two individuals so distant from one another? I’m amazed that word got out that far.”

“Well, let’s just say that she didn’t enjoy the life she had there. Since there was a way to accommodate her desire to distance herself from it, it was an easy-to-answer request. This would also support the idea that she was downplaying her ability as an Adventurer to avoid drawing attention to herself.”

Ludmila frowned down at the Bishop’s desk. It seemed that there was always some crucial information that eluded her when it came to things she considered important in her life. Bishop Austine took a seat on his own chair, setting down the registry in his hand.

“You should understand that your family is not the same general group of peoples as most of those in Re-Estize and Baharuth, yes?”

She nodded. That much she understood, but she always assumed that the people of Warden’s Vale migrated from the period when the Theocracy was seeding the lands devastated by the Demon Gods two centuries previous.

“As I understand it,” he went on, “both Andrei Zahradnik and your mother’s line are both from the same region – the same people, even. A people renowned as soldiers, mercenaries and warriors. If you knew of Gazef Stronoff, King Ramposa’s Warrior Captain, he was actually from the same place. Your mother was from a bloodline of soldiers, and she was quite the captain herself, from what little I could gather.”

“I did not know about any of that, Your Excellency,” Ludmila admitted. “If that is the case, then what should I do? Am I a Ranger of my father’s line, or some sort of soldier, like my mother? If it is both…our tenets say that we should focus on our path, but what is to be done if we have the potential for more than one?”

“The answer would be to find a way to harness both, without deviating from a single path.”

“Is there such a thing?”

“There is,” the Bishop told her. “Sometimes it’s practically impossible when affinities diverge too greatly – such as being caught between becoming a Wizard or a Paladin – at which point one is probably better off choosing a single path and relying on raw potential alone. In your case, both your father and your mother have warrior affinities and are from a warrior people, and it wouldn’t be unreasonable to pursue a path along those lines.

“It should already be something familiar to you, considering that you are a Frontier Noble. To follow in the footsteps of the great captains of old: powerful warrior lords who stood with their men and led them into battle. Though somewhat embellished in their retelling, they were not too much different than your father, mother, or any of your ancestors in their role. Therein I believe lies your path, but, according to Themis, you are already doing just that. It appears that your intuition has already set you on the correct course.”

“I did not come into this path on my own,” Ludmila told him. “I have been blessed with an excellent new liege who is guiding me in many things. Not only Lady Shalltear, but others from the Sorcerous Kingdom as well.”

“It’s no small wonder,” Bishop Austine said. “A great captain is of benefit to any nation. Considering the power of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s armies, it is a very clear way to distinguish oneself. While they certainly do not need the strength of mortal arms, a Commander who can magnify their existing strength is very much a desirable resource.”

Ludmila did not believe it was something so shallow as being a ‘desirable resource’, but she did not refute him. She was satisfied to be of any use to a liege who had already done so much for her, and being so did not preclude the other aspects of their relationship at any rate.

“Thank you for letting me know about all of this, Your Excellency,” she rose from her seat. “I will continue in my efforts. If humanity here will benefit from my contributions, then it is my duty to the faith to do so. Speaking of our people…has there been any reply from the Theocracy about our need for temple staff?”

“The good news is that our lines of communication are flowing freely once again,” he told her after standing himself. “I’m still negotiating for temple staff, however.”

“Negotiating?” Ludmila furrowed her brow, “I did not know that it was something that required negotiating. The ministry is needed here: sooner or later, something will happen without them. Is there a lack of priests in the Theocracy for some reason?”

“To be honest,” he replied, “I don’t know what the source of their hesitation is. I also do not believe the Theocracy could have a shortage of priests, of all things. Countess Corelyn is in an even more dire situation than you: she has over one hundred villages without a priest, and three temples with next to no staff. From an administrative standpoint, it’s quite absurd – if any disaster or great plague befalls us, we will be in a great deal of trouble.”

“There is an imminent and guaranteed concern before that,” Ludmila told him. “Both Countess Corelyn and I are introducing a basic, standardized education in our fiefs. We have an entire generation about to be schooled not by a scholar from the Theocracy, but an instructor trained by the Sorcerous Kingdom. The longer the Theocracy delays in their decision, the longer we have our children exposed to a foreign education without the benefit of a proper foundation in the faith.”

Bishop Austine frowned slightly as she spoke and, in the end, let out a rueful chuckle.

“Did you collude with Countess Corelyn over this?” He asked.

“No.” Ludmila answered, “I do not believe anything needs to be said between us on this matter. It is what it is, is it not?”

“Indeed,” the Bishop rubbed his lower lip with a finger. “I’m uncertain if the two of you have provided me with additional leverage in our ongoing petitions for temple staff or if you’ve placed me in a quandary. You are two of the most faithful nobles I’ve known, but, at the same time, you are nobles through and through. Your father was never so ambitious as this.”

“It is the reality of the Sorcerous Kingdom, Your Excellency,” Ludmila told him. “Our nation is on the brink of prosperity witnessed nowhere else; prosperity that will create a burgeoning society that will blossom and flourish. All who recognize this are fighting to stay ahead of the great wave that will sweep the things of the past away. Faith without works will find no purchase here: the temples of The Four falter and stagnate. The faith of The Six must rise to the occasion, or we will find ourselves left behind.”

“Leverage, then,” he smiled slightly.

“It would be better to consider it an opportunity. Shrines, chapels and temples stand empty; the people are already our faithful – awaiting the touch of the ministry. You have the support of the local administration in these same lands: we are quite literally building your temples for free. I am hard-pressed to think of any scenario as welcoming as this.”

“You two are really…” The Bishop looked up at her, “Are you sure you didn’t come up with this together? Even your words are nearly the same.”

“We grew up together,” Ludmila said. “It is not surprising that we would see at least some things the same way.”

“It’s still quite uncanny,” Bishop Austine rose to his feet, “but I agree that there is merit in approaching it from that angle. If they are treating my petitions as something that they have the luxury of time to address, this should be just the thing to dissuade them from that assumption, and persuade them of the sureness of our course.”