The Tiger and the Dragon: Act 9, Chapter 6

The Tiger and the Dragon: Act 9, Chapter 6

Chapter 6

“The Sorcerous Kingdom is up to something.”

Zoren lolled his head towards where Salacia had seated herself in the city hall’s lounge.T/his chapter is updated by nov(ê(l)biin.co/m

“We’ve been travelling and working all day,” he said, “yet you still have the energy to make ominous statements.”

The buxom young noblewoman shot him a glare.

“This isn’t some sort of joke, Carillo!”

“Then rather than say something like that,” Zoren said, “you should supply us with something substantial.”

Honestly, he was at a point past caring. The administration was so busy making sure that the province was put in order that he had no time for Salacia’s moaning about the evils of the Sorcerous Kingdom.

“My agents–”

“Your agents?”

“My agents have reported Wagner and Gagnier meeting with the heads of Blighthold’s Merchant companies.”

Zoren turned his gaze back to the ceiling and closed his eyes.

“...and then?”

“They talked.”

“...and then?”

“What do you mean, ‘and then’?” He could hear Salacia’s scowl through her voice, “Despite holding titles, those women are Merchants. Who knows what underhanded plots and schemes they’re hatching?”

“You can’t stir up suspicion in the court just because someone went and talked to someone else,” Zoren told her.

“I can’t?”

“Well, you can, but this is a waste of energy. Which we have none of.”

Salacia’s sigh filled the air. The tapping of her heels drew closer. The light scent of her flowery perfume tickled his nose as she sat beside him.

“You should speak with Wagner,” she said.

“Hah?”

“You’re getting along well with her, aren’t you?” Salacia said, “Go and find out what they’re doing.”

Zoren opened his eyes a crack, peering at the noblewoman beside him. Nobles, by nature, used others, but he wasn’t so sure it could be done in such a brazen way.

“This is not worth risking a connection over,” he told her. “Why not tell your ‘agents’ to go and see what the Merchant companies are doing?”

“Who says that I haven’t?”

“Then why–”

“Because we need multiple sources of information to confirm what they’re doing,” Salacia said. “Everyone needs to do their part, Carillo.”

He lay back for a half-second more before raising his head and rising to his feet. Whether he cooperated with Salacia or not, he would have no peace being in the same room as her. He fixed his shirt and sash before leaving the lounge and making his way through the foyer of the Blighthold city hall. A voice called out to him on the way to the exit

“Carillo, where are you going?”

“Zorlu,” Zoren replied. “You understand that a Marshal is not supposed to be guarding the doors, yes?”

“The Captains from Highfort took care of nearly everything before we arrived,” Emmad replied. “There’s not much for me to do aside from inspecting the security.”

“...that’s not your job, either. Not unless it’s some official event.”

The man was utterly restless since he had been appointed to Marshal. His new position spared him from what Zorlu and the rest of the court were burdened with, and, like Salacia, he had an unhealthy amount of energy.

“So, where are you going?” Emmad asked.

“Out,” Zoren answered. “Our dear Soruel is at it again, so anywhere is better than here. Maybe I’ll go and watch the sunset.”

He threw his mantle over his shoulders before pushing open one of the doors. Halfway down the stairs, his steps slowed.

Ah, right. There are no carriages to hire.

The city and its province had been eaten clean of livestock, and the only draft animals around were the horses they had brought with them from the royal stables in Oriculon.

No carriages; no attendants. Not on militia duty...

Though it was probably a silly thing to get excited over, a sense of adventure filled him. The only time a Noble was alone for an extended period was when they were sleeping and often not even then. It wasn’t a very private life.

The tread of his polished boots sounded over the pavement as he made his way under the magical streetlamps. Bits and pieces of the city’s welcome still littered the streets, leaving a lingering air of celebration. Even as late as it was, Blighthold’s citizens could still be seen going about their business with a purposeful measure in their gait.

Zoren smiled quietly to himself as he took in the scenes of city life. Outsiders probably thought them unhinged, but the period following Beastman attacks was considered the best of times for the citizens of the Draconic Kingdom.

He eventually reached the wharf, where the sunset painted the waterfront with its fierce orange glow. The barge that had delivered the Queen was still moored at the same place where they had disembarked a few days earlier. Dozens of repaired fishing vessels, plus a few ships from Oriculon were also present, and the shipwrights could be seen repairing other boats dragged up onto the quays.

The northernmost section of the wharf was the only place lacking in local activity. There, the Sorcerous Kingdom’s ‘exclave’ was being raised by a mix of Humans and Undead from the nation on the other side of the Katze Plains.

“Wha–! Hey! Give that back!”

A gull flew by with a brown paper bag, followed by Countess Wagner. The young noblewoman fumed and hurled insults at the bird as if words alone could knock it out of the sky.

Is a Countess allowed to be that cute?

When portrayed in the tales, a Countess was usually a formidable matron hardened by the realities of court life. They were calculating, sharp-tongued, ruthless or all of that combined. Despite being a nobleman and knowing for certain that it wasn’t always the case, the characterisation still somehow stuck.

Countess Wagner returned from her pursuit empty-handed. The sour look on her face abruptly vanished when her topaz-blue eyes crossed his.

“Um, hi.”

“Good evening, Countess Wagner,” Zoren offered her a smile and a polite bow. “I wish I had even a tenth of your energy right now.”

“Mmh...as much as I’d like to say that isn’t the case, you’re mostly right. Are you saying that it’s not like that here?”

“Half of Her Majesty’s court would not be women if that was so,” Zoren smirked. “There are, of course, the realities that come with being a woman and that does influence one’s direction in life, but things are not as stifling here as I believe it is in the north.”

“And what do you think about that?” Lady Wagner asked, “Would you rather have it your way, or ours?”

“I have heard of some pretty wild adventures that happen in the north that tickle my fancy...”

Lady Wagner’s lips tilted down slightly.

“...but I believe that what I consider normal is best. A garden of white roses surely leaves a favourable impression, but it becomes bland very quickly if it is only that. Confidence and competence offered in vast variety and depth enhance beauty incomparably, don’t you agree?”

“I, uh...are you saying you find me attractive?”

“Of course!” Zoren smiled, “A man who does not must surely be mad.”

The Countess turned her face away to watch the waves rolling past the piers. She took a deep breath and slowly released it.

“In that case,” she said, “I should get back to work. Don’t want to lose any of that beauty, yeah?”

“Thank you for humouring my idleness, my lady,” Zoren bowed.

With that, Countess Wagner strolled through the exclave gate. Zoren let out a wistful sigh.

So busy trying to piece the world back together again, yet I still find the time to do this.

He left the wharf and went back through the darkened city streets, watching his shadows move over the pavement as he went past lamppost after lamppost. Upon returning to the city hall, he found Emmad and Salacia standing outside the door. The Minister of the Interior detached herself from the Marshal’s arm as Zoren came up the stairs.

“What did you find out?” Salacia asked.

Zoren looked over his shoulder, wondering if he could catch a glimpse of Salacia’s ‘agents’.

“I didn’t go to satisfy your paranoia,” he told her.

“But you did go, yes?” Salacia replied, “I won’t believe for a moment that you would miss an opportunity to dig up what you could.”

“Information is beginning to flow through the Merchant Guild network,” Zoren said. “After being cut off for so long, their interest is perfectly understandable. The guilds will act according to information as they always do, and it isn’t as if they have a history of hiding their dealings.”

“That’s still a major cause for concern,” Salacia told him. “What if they begin to stray from our recovery plans? Their selfish greed may cripple our efforts.”

“The Merchants have always cooperated with us during the early phases of recovery,” Emmad noted. “What makes you believe they won’t this time?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Salacia said, “They’re here. I don’t doubt that they’ve been filling their heads with destructive ideas.”

Zoren’s scoff echoed off of the pillars lining the entrance of the building.

“If their goal was our destruction,” he said, “They could have just let the Beastmen finish us off. Your suspicions make little sense.”

“Not the destruction of our country,” Salacia told him, “but the undermining of our government and the destruction of our culture. Think about how they ‘deal’ with us; what their proposals prioritise. It’s all shallow. Material. They speak of friendship and understanding, but everything they promote revolves around resources and productivity. We’re simply an economic output that will contribute to their ‘hegemony’ in the future.”

“You’re being too harsh, Soruel.”

“Am I?” Salacia arched an eyebrow at him, “These ‘diplomats’ are foreign Merchants seeing what they can get out of us. Can either of you say with any conviction that this is not the case?”

“Zahradnik does not conduct herself as they do,” Emmad pointed out.

“And we can only thank the gods for that,” Salacia huffed. “Else she’d be holding us at spearpoint while demanding that we sign our country away. Anyway, do not drop your guard around those women: they clearly don’t have our best interests at heart.”

Salacia rearranged her shawl before reentering the building. Zoren went to sit down at the top of the steps, resting his back against one of the columns. He let out a loud sigh after he heard the doors close behind her.

They’re officials from a different country. Why would you expect them to only have our best interests at heart?

Diplomacy wouldn’t get anywhere like this. Finding common ground was impossible when one side kept pushing while the other dug in their heels even harder with every push.

“Her heart is in the right place,” Emmad said. “She places Queen and country above all else.”

“Oh, of that there is no doubt,” Zoren said, “but I fear that her patriotism will end up doing more harm than good...by the way, when did you two become so close?”

“We’ve always been like that.”

Had they? He supposed that it made a convoluted sort of sense. Salacia was a follower of The Six, while Emmad was both upright and dense. She probably felt safe enough around him to draw some comfort and he had no idea what she was up to. In hindsight, it was probably the reason why Emmad had been ‘single’ for years despite being considered one of the most eligible men in the palace. He was unknowingly marked by one of the most capable women in the court, and no one dared to steal him away.

“Well, whatever. So long as you don’t let her influence you in your role as Marshal.”

“Soruel understands her boundaries,” Emmad said. “She might share her thoughts with others, but she’d never tell them how to do their jobs.”

It was a strange quirk that came with the Faith of the Six. They tended to have a strict, compartmentalised view of the world, and they considered micromanaging those in other vocations reprehensible. While it was true that society was divided along lines of class and vocation, followers of The Six took that notion to the extreme.

“And what about you, hm?” Zoren said, “Perhaps you should instil some of your level-headedness into her so she stops running off with her paranoia-filled fantasies.”

“I doubt I could. She has always had an eye for things that we would rarely consider or even notice. We should value her contributions to the court.”

“Whether we value her contributions or not is not what I’m concerned about. It’s whether her ‘contributions’ end up putting us at odds with the Sorcerous Kingdom. Never mind our guests, we do not know how much patience their superiors have.”

That was probably the one thing that Zoren had grown wary of. Countess Corelyn and her party always spoke well of their superiors, but the fact remained that those superiors were not Human and thus he had no idea where they might stand on the matter of the ongoing negotiations. Perhaps they were like Queen Oriculus, possessing patience and wisdom beyond mortal understanding. Or perhaps they were like the Demons from the Bards’ tales, and they were readying great black cauldrons to turn the entire court into soup.

“I would say we’d have some forewarning should things develop in that direction,” Emmad replied.

“You should check with Zahradnik, just in case,” Zoren said. “She seems the most reasonable of the lot. You’re returning to Oriculon tomorrow to oversee whatever is going on next, I believe?”

“I’ll be boarding the next ship heading south,” Emmad nodded. “They’ll be testing the Beastmen in the east soon and they want me there for my insights...such that they are.”

“Hey, now. If not you, who else?”

“The Captains from Highfort. Or any of the soldiers from there.”

“Not this again,” Zoren rose and clapped the tall man on the back. “You’re inexperienced – we all get that. But the Queen didn’t appoint you as Marshal for your inexperience. Even if you don’t believe in yourself, you should at least believe in Her Majesty. Why would you accept the position otherwise?”

Emmad remained silent for a moment, and then nodded slowly. He turned and held out his hand.

“We won’t be seeing each other for a while, Carillo. Try and hold things together here.”

“You know I will,” Zoren took Emmad’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “As unlikely as it might be, don’t go and get yourself killed.”