Only Villains Do That

1.13 In Which the Dark Lord Experiences the Horror of Self-Awareness

Ephemera was giving me plenty of practice at maintaining a stage presence, despite the lack of actual stages. I seized that familiar poise and wrapped it around myself like a fluffy blanket, continuing to look aloof and amused at the kid and giving no outward sign of the loop for which he’d just knocked me.

“Ara ara ara, sounds like they’re off to a good start. Reacting a bit faster than I’d expected, but oh, well! You can only predict the behavior of people like that up to a point, after all.”

Dear god, Seiji, shut up. I really needed to work on this habit of babbling to cover my unease. Apparently Grandmother’s “aras” compulsively came out when I was flustered, which meant I needed to clamp down on that before anyone else noticed the tell.

“See? Tolja I had it worked out. I’m smarter than I look.” He puffed up his chest, smirking insufferably at me, and I had the fleeting thought that this fresh desire to smack him must be what talking to me felt like. “And something else I figured out is, since I’m the only one who saw what went down…well, it’s like I said.”

“You’re with me or against me,” I agreed, keeping myself as inscrutable as possible while I inwardly scrambled for a way to seize control of this conversation.

He nodded, his expression going serious. “Yeah, I… Well, it took me a bit to put it together, so, sorry for running out on you. And thanks. Y’know, for the magic.” He unconsciously touched his midsection where the knife had been driven most of the way through his thin stomach. “I didn’t get what you were doin’ until I had time to think on it, but I get it now.”

“Hmm. Tell me what you get, and I’ll tell you how close you are.” I really hoped I looked as wise and in control as I was trying to.

“Well, at first I thought maybe it was cos you were soft, like the Olumnach lord said.” He flashed me a cheeky grin. “But that didn’t hold, cos you lured him into that tunnel for an ambush with your pet muscle, took out him and his goon, and lifted a shitload of Lady Gray’s gold. That’s some cold maneuvering right there.”

“Pet muscle?” Aster repeated from behind me.

I held up a hand for silence, then nodded to the boy. “Go on.”

“So I got thinking,” he said eagerly, “and this is something I’ve seen before. Me and most of the Rats—hell, most lowlifes in the Gutters, it’s all take what you can and fuck whoever gets in your way, right? But the real crews, like the Olumnachs and Lady Gray’s outfit, they stick together. Even the bullyboys back at the Nest always got their little crew of bootlickers, they don’t go alone. Nobody makes it big without backup. You’re building a crew, and I almost missed my invite. But I figured it out!” He nodded furiously. “I ain’t told nobody what I saw. I want in. You need Rat business done, right? Eyes and quick fingers all over the Gutters, that’s what we do.”

He straightened up, lifting his chin proudly, and thumped a fist into his thin chest.

“Gilder’s your guy, Lord Seiji! You need eyes on the Gutters, and I got ‘em. Just say the word!”

Well, what the fuck was I supposed to do about this? Mindful that my own hasty action had created this situation and it could have been so much worse, I tried frantically to think ahead and in the meanwhile stalled for time with a little theater.

“See, Aster?” I said, turning to give her a little half-smirk. “I told you he had potential.”

She returned a silent but deeply expressive stare. Aster was good at those.

“Here, now,” said Donon, “how’d you know he’s called Lord Seiji?”

“I been following and listening to you, hurrg,” Gilder retorted, grinning again. “That’s what I do! Only thing I couldn’t figure out, though, Lord Seiji, is how’d you know I’d come back? You musta had something on me, otherwise you’da been proper fucked if I told somebody you was the one who did it. A cold operator doesn’t take that kinda risk without havin’ a leash to pull. What was it?”

I experienced the unique sensation of hearing my inner monologue emit a continuous high-pitched scream.

“Ah, ah,” I chided aloud, putting on a smirk and wagging a finger at him. “Walk before you run, child. We’re just starting out here. In time, you’ll learn more about how I do things. Surely you don’t expect me to start handing out my own secrets like candy?”

Wait. Was candy expensive here? Did they even have sugar?

“All right, all right, I got you.” Gilder just nodded back, not even seeming disappointed. “We’ll get there.”

“Working for me is still going to have its risks,” I continued, still stalling for time while struggling against the white noise in my head to think up a scheme out of this that wouldn’t make the situation worse or require me to do something unacceptable. Silencing the kid like Arider had tried to was just not on the table. I’d crossed some moral boundaries already and doubtless would cross more, but there had to be some hard lines somewhere and child murder was way on the wrong side of any of them. But what could I do with him? Leaving him loose in Gwyllthean unsupervised was a security risk…but was taking him back to North Watch any better? Then he’d know where I was based and I’d have nowhere to retreat to if he turned on me anyway. The question of what was right wasn’t much easier. Obviously letting an orphan continue to live on the streets when I could help him out was appalling, but honestly, would he be any better off in a crumbling ruin among bandits surrounded by an alien forest full of cat people and god knew what else?

It was only after speaking that I realized my stalling tactic had offered him a cogent reason to turn on me. Fortunately Gilder replied before I could mull too deeply upon how much I deserved to be kicked in the head for how badly I was bungling this.

“Hey, you gotta take risks to get rewards,” he said, thumping his chest again. “I know the score. Me, I ain’t gonna be a Gutter rat my whole life, get me? I got dreams. I’m gonna be an adventurer, and not some graydisc Gutter-grubber, neither. I’m gonna get a Blessing and get rich, and live in a shell mansion in the inner quarter, and eat pepper mutton every day! I’m gonna marry a yellow-haired highborn lady with huge knockers and keep twenty mistresses around town to bang! But none of that’s happening if nothing changes around the Gutters, see? The Gutters are practically a workshop for people like me to get worked on. You either get broke and thrown out with the rest of the scrap, or hammered into a tool for the likes of Lady Gray to use. Until she breaks you and throws you out. Fuck that. You’re the only real option that’s come along in forever, Lord Seiji. I’m with you.”

I could only stare at him for a moment. I’m not great with children, but I was certain he couldn’t get as much as ten years old.

“Well,” I said finally, “those are some grand and…extremely specific dreams.”

“Boy knows what’s good in life,” Donon said sagely.

“Except that you want the knockers on the mistresses,” Aster added, equally solemn. “You want to marry a petite blonde, that’s more fashionable among the pales.”

“I meant the pepper mutton, but go off, I guess.”

“Aster, how much change do we have after shopping?” She was handling the money, on account of her coat having the biggest and sturdiest pockets. My new Fflyr-style nobleman’s coat was loose-cut and would be handy for concealing things the way Arider had, but you needed actual pockets or fasteners on the inside to do that and either those didn’t come standard or I’d been cheated. Given how much I’d annoyed the tailor, could be either.

“Lord Seiji, I don’t want to seem inconsiderate, but you should be careful about giving a lot of money to somebody like…Gilder, was it? If the other Gutter Rats see him with a bunch of cash they’ll just roll him for it.”

“She’s not wrong, Lord Seiji,” Gilder agreed with a displeased grimace. “Not that I wouldn’t love a pocketful, but I show up at the Nest with anything too nice and it’ll just get took from me, along with a chunk of my ass. And there ain’t any safe stash spots in the Gutters. We Rats have a game where we sniff out each other’s stashes.”

“I appreciate the concern, you two, but you’ll be glad to know I am not, in fact, a complete idiot.” Man, I would be glad to know that at this point. “That is why I asked for change, I’m not gonna hand the kid a blue halo.” That was one of the denominations whose name I’d heard; at some point I needed to have Aster walk me through what each was worth. “I do want to make sure all my people are take care of. Let’s get Gilder set up with something to put a meal in him. Anything else you need right now, kid?”

“Hell’s revels, Lord Seiji, a meal is always what I need,” he chirped, again with that big infectious grin. “If you’re feeling generous I won’t turn down a few discs for something hot from the vendors! Anything nicer’ll have to wait till I got safer digs and protection.”

“And that day will come,” I promised, “but it has to be one step at a time.”

“I get it,” he nodded. “You’re just getting started and I gotta earn cred. What’s next, boss man?”

Fortunately, I finally had an answer. The preceding byplay had bought me enough time to come to a conclusion: I had to put the boy to work, here in Gwyllthean. Whether or not it was ethical, it was my only strategic option right now. Since I was not willing to silence him, I needed him firmly on my side, which meant I needed him to keep thinking I was an ice-cold mastermind who’d spared him in order to put him to use in my schemes—which meant he needed to be put to actual use in an actual scheme. As soon as he realized my maneuvers up till now had been random bumbling and he was objectively better off with one of the established powers, I’d have all of the established powers climbing up my ass with sharp implements. I couldn’t even afford to reveal ignorance by asking who the hell Lady Gray was or what the deal was with Clan Olumnach.

“First off,” I said, “I need to go monitor business elsewhere and may not be back in Gwyllthean for a few days. How can I find you?”

“Hah!” Gilder’s irrepressible grin only got wider. “You don’t find the Gutter Rats, Lord Seiji, we find you. Just dally a little next time you’re passing down the road on the way to the walls. You’ll be noted, face like yours, and I can make sure word gets to me. Then I can find you anywhere outside the walls.”

“That sounds like you’ll be relying on others. That’s a good strategy to get through life, but at this stage I need to be careful who knows I’m a person of interest.”

“I gotcha, don’t worry,” he said, nodding. “The Rats trade favors, and I got friends. I just gotta spin a story about how I got a rich mark interested in you, and nobody’ll ask questions so long as I cut ‘em in. Pales are always having each other followed around and the smart ones know to use the Rats. Means I’ll need a few coins to hand out, though.”

“That won’t be a problem. Good, I’m glad to hear you’ve thought that through, because that was my first assignment for you: I’m going to need more eyes and ears on the street than just yours.”

“I know people!” he beamed.

I held up a warning finger. “Carefully, Gilder. Only Rats you personally know and trust. Preferably those who’ll stay loyal as long as I look after them—because that is the deal, let me make that clear. Stick by me and I will stick by you. I have coin and healing magic, and between them I can solve a lot of problems for you.”

“Gotta be careful with that, Lord Seiji,” he said, going serious again. “If Uncle Gently spots you poaching Rats from him, he’ll run to Lady Grey and she’ll round on you.”

“Mm.” So that was the guy running the Gutter Rats organization? Worth knowing. “To be clear, he answers to Lady Gray?”

“Everybody in the Gutters answers to Lady Gray, one way or another. Uncle Gently keeps us separate from her organization, but he also gives her info at cost or free and pays his protection money. She likes having the Rats answering to somebody who’ll lick her toes for her.”

“Then that’s good advice for us both. Slow and careful. No overt recruitment yet—for the time being, sound people out, see if you can suss out who’s interested and trustworthy.”

“You got it, bossman!” The grin returned in a flash. “I got a few names I can start with and I’ll see about roping up more.”

“Good man.”

Aster handed him a few coins, which he bounced on his palm, beaming. “Anything else, Lord Seiji?”

“I’ll be interested in general rumors and information, especially on how business between the Olumnachs and Lady Gray’s people progresses. For now, though, focus on building me a network. You’re getting in on the ground floor, Gilder. Don’t screw this up, and you’re heading for a high place in my organization.”

He grinned so hard I thought I might have to Heal his face.

“Won’t let you down, Lord Seiji. You’ll see for yourself, Gilder’s a man of his word. Just gimme a couple days, I’ll have results for you!”

Gilder turned and scrambled off back toward the warren of outbuildings that led to the Gutters before I could say anything else. Manners aside, it was just as well. That conversation was wearing down my equanimity.

Much as I wanted to stand there and stew for a few minutes, I turned without another word and proceeded back toward the main road, Aster and Donon falling into step with me. I hadn’t been in that much of a hurry before, but after talking with Gilder the urge to get the hell out of Gwyllthean was a constant itch between my shoulder blades. And now that I no longer had to actively put on a face, the weight of my screwup was truly settling in.

My god in heaven. I had walked into the equivalent of yakuza turf, gotten a major player killed, waltzed off with a small (or not so small?) fortune in ill-gotten cash, let a witness escape, and then gone on about my evening as if nothing had happened. By Virya’s taint, I’d spent a leisurely night and morning sleeping, dining, shopping around town… It was just luck, pure clueless luck that the boy I’d let get away had been smart and ambitious but not too smart and ambitious, in just the right amount to decide to throw in with me. He was probably the only one; any other Rat would almost certainly have squealed on me and I’d have been dead before dawn, along with Aster and Donon.

It was all I could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other, fast enough to stay a bit ahead of Aster so she couldn’t see me laboring not to cry.

I couldn’t do this. I could not do this. Dark Lord? It was pushing my capabilities to their limit to pull off Morally Ambiguous Asshole. It had been two days, and I’d already gotten multiple people killed, a majority of them by accident, and started a fucking gang war. I didn’t know what I was doing and I was going to die and…

And there was nothing to be done about it. This was the situation I was in. There was no one I could trust or turn to. Either I figured this shit out and made it work, or…

Left foot, right foot. Just one in front of the other, for now. I just had to keep pressing on.

The nice thing about having a hike that took most of a day to complete was that it provided ample time for me to get my frantically racing brain back under control, and the exercise was nice, too. By the time we reached North Watch, dark was falling and I was in a much better frame of mind. Second-guessing myself, of course—in hindsight I wasn’t at all sure leaving Gilder loose in Gwyllthean had been the right call, either for me or him. But it was done now. I’d done my best to plan ahead while walking rather than dwelling on my mistakes up till now.

I’d also taken the guitar back from Donon, both because strumming it while strolling did wonders to calm me and because it was the heaviest single thing we’d purchased and despite what he said I didn’t feel right making him carry everything by himself.

Biribo had of course vacated Aster’s coat as soon as we were out of sight of Gwyllthean’s walls and off the main road, and now reported to me as we drew close to the old fortress, “One person on watch, boss. Looks like the girl, Twigs. She’s seen us—not aiming a weapon.”

I nodded in silence, noting inwardly that familiars were useful for more than general exposition. That was probably the point of the Blessing of Wisdom, after all. Also, I hadn’t specifically told Biribo to be on watch for “my” bandits to be pointing weapons at me from behind cover, but apparently he felt (as did I) that it was a reasonable concern.

Thus, I was not surprised when Twigs herself popped out of the shadows of the gatehouse when we returned and made that descending gesture of folded hands which I had started to interpret as what the Fflyr did instead of bowing.

“Welcome back, Lord Seiji. I hope your journey was successful.”

I stopped, studying her closely. In truth, I had paid Twigs almost no attention before; she was just the skinny girl who Goose put herself in front of whenever something potentially dangerous was afoot. Now, I noted her poised delivery and looked more carefully. She was almost painfully thin—hence the nickname, no doubt—and dirty. As in, her cheeks had dirt on them, smeared in a pattern that looked deliberate. It completely failed to conceal the fact that her skin was quite pale compared to the rest of the bandits. She also wore a big, baggy, beret-like hat over her head, but the wisps of hair which poked out were straight and a very light brown.

Interesting.

“Thank you, Twigs,” I said aloud. “Any news? Who’s still here?”

She hesitated. “We’ve all been doing as you ordered, Lord Seiji. No one has left. I doubt anyone will. All of us… It’s like you said, that night when you arrived. We have nowhere else to go.”

“I see. Very good, then, carry on.”

Twigs folded her hands down again and slipped back into the tower. I wondered, as I crossed the courtyard, if the bandits had bothered posting a watch before I ordered it. Just keeping an eye on the gates was honestly a cursory gesture; there were simply not enough of them to maintain a full lookout of the whole perimeter. This was as much about encouraging good habits as actual security.

On the subject of poor security, the doors to the keep itself were standing open. I could give the crew a pass this time, considering what they were doing in there—a pile of broken furniture and containers was now heaped on one side of the entry, and a smaller pile of dust and obvious trash on the other. I gave them barely a glance, mostly focusing on the sounds of a rant in progress as I crossed through the foyer into the big mess hall which was the apparent heart of the fortress.

“I’m getting sick of this! Just because I never set out to be a bandit doesn’t mean I wanted to be a fucking maid, either. I mean, come on, what is even the point of this? Look at this fucking dump! How the hell is any of this even going to help, huh? Tell me that!”

Actually, I observed upon entering the mess hall—quietly—it looked a lot better already. The foyer had been cleared of junk, swept, and had the streamer-like alien cobwebs cleared out, and now most of that had been done in the big hall as well. There were still piles of things up on the dais around the head table, but they looked better organized, at least. The walls were clean of moss, the torches had been replaced and the room was far better illuminated than before (actually those torches were glowing a lot more brightly than torches should; I made a mental note to ask Biribo about that later). I had observed at the inn in Gwyllthean that polished akorshil was actually rather beautiful under torchlight, but this was the first time I had seen the effect in my own castle. The tables were nicely clean and showing off the almost luminous golden grain in their grayish-ivory surface.

Altogether, the place was shaping up nicely. You’d never know it from the way Kasser was carrying on, though.

He was facing the other end of the hall, toward the dais, and I got the pleasure of seeing him actually throw down his broom in frustration. “This is just fucking stupid. Why should we be doing this just cos that demented asshole said so, huh? What kind of fucking idiot goes around claiming to be the Dark Lord? He’s gonna get a bunch of adventurers coming to kill his ass, and then we’ll all go down with him!”

“Uh, Kasser,” Goose started to warn him. She was at the other side of the room, near the door that led to the kitchen.

Kasser had a full head of steam, though, and rolled right over her. “If a crazy guy with killer fire magic wanted to go raiding, I mean, sure, that at last makes sense! But this? He wants us to clean the fortress? What the fuck is a little cleaning going to do for this shithole, anyway?”

“Kasser!” Harold said urgently, staring at me with wide eyes.

“I’ve had it!” Kasser kicked his fallen broom. “I’m not doing this bullshit anymore! What’s Lord Freakjob gonna do about it, anyway? I don’t see his ass here lending a hand. At least if he did, maybe he’d see how fucking dumb this whole fucking idea is!”

He finally worked himself to a stop, shoulders heaving with exertion, and only then looked around at the other three bandits for approval.

Harold was clutching his hands at his throat, looking terrified. Goose just heaved a resigned sigh and went back to sweeping by the door. Sakin was grinning as if his birthday had come early.

I could actually see, even from behind, the moment when Kasser figured it out. His labored breathing abruptly stilled, and then he hunched in on himself, shoulders clenching up. Very slowly, he turned around, to find me standing barely a meter behind him, wearing a polite little smile.

“Feel better?” I asked pleasantly.

Kasser whimpered.

“Cleaning the fortress serves multiple purposes,” I explained, keeping my tone amiable. “The most immediate benefit, of course, is that when the fortress is clean, we don’t have to live in filth. I realize you’re accustomed to thinking of yourselves as the dregs of humanity, and while you may have a point, you are still all human beings. That is a mixed blessing at the absolute best, but all people deserve some basic dignity. Not living in squalor is better for your health, your pride, and your overall sense of well-being.

“In addition to its concrete benefits, the act of cleaning gives its own blessings. By laboring together to maintain the space in which we live and work, the group improves its own cohesion and gains respect—for one another, and for our shared environment. These bonds are what differentiate a group united in common purpose from a miscellaneous rabble. Besides, there’s just not a lot to do around here while we’re in between raiding jobs, is there? Performing useful tasks is a much more mentally and physically healthy way to fill the time than sitting around waiting for our hair to turn gray.

“Where I am from, these are the first things children learn. The first years of education are devoted to social and practical skills, and all students are expected to take part in continuing to develop their work ethic and social bonds by cleaning and maintaining their shared spaces. I realize you lot are a little old to begin learning, but I have faith in you.”

I fell silent, still giving him a benign smile. Kasser swallowed heavily, clearly waiting for more. Borrowing a trick I’d learned from the late Lord Arider, I waited until he finally opened his mouth to speak to deliver the last bit.

“If you ever have questions about my orders, Kasser, please feel free to ask me. I certainly won’t punish someone for expressing reasonable concerns. It’s my belief that people are best able to carry out my instructions when they understand them. Don’t you think so?”

“Yes, Lord Seiji,” he said in a very small voice.

I nodded graciously. “Carry on, then.”

He folded his hands downward in a hasty gesture, then bent to retrieve his broom and started to scuffle away toward Harold.

I crossed the space between us in a few rapid, silent strides, only speaking again when I was right behind him.

“And Kasser.”

He flinched violently, nearly dropping the broom.

I rested one hand on his shoulder, continuing to give him the same pleasant smile when he slowly turned a dread-filled face to look at me.

“Complaining about one’s boss is a time-honored tradition, as venerable as the institution of bosses themselves. Far be it from me to begrudge my employees one of life’s simple pleasures. But when speaking of the Dark Lord, let’s try to keep the obscenities to a minimum, shall we?”

He gibbered in a series of squeaks, not producing anything I could parse as words, and eventually managed a jerky nod.

I clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

“You got a real way with people, boss,” Biribo said as I turned and strolled away.

Sakin loudly cleared his throat, then folded his hands down when I turned to look at him. “Please understand I’m not complaining, Lord Seiji, but just out of curiosity… How long do you want us to keep cleaning the fortress?”

“Until it is clean, obviously.”

“Ah.” His expression, as usual, didn’t waver. “You’re the boss, of course. But, just for reference… This is a fortress meant to garrison several hundred soldiers, left to rot for most of a century, and there are six of us. Seven, counting Miss Aster.”

“Seven so far,” I corrected. “Don’t worry, Sakin, I won’t have you overworking yourselves. Take breaks, don’t skip meals, be sure to stay hydrated, and make progress as you can. We’ll get there.”

“As you say, Lord Seiji,” he said, visibly bemused, and went back to sorting through the contents of a crate.

“Welcome back, Lord Seiji,” said Goose, leaning her broom against the wall.

“Thank you, Goose. I trust all’s well here? You’ve all done fine work so far, I’m impressed.”

“Thanks, my lord, we’ve tried. Ah, sorry, I know you must’ve had a long walk to get here, but…you’ve got a visitor waiting for you.”

I came to a stop, blinking at her.

“Excuse me, I have a what?”

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