Only Villains Do That

2.14 In Which the Dark Lord is the Lesser Evil

In keeping with the established pattern of everything good on Ephemera being horribly tainted somehow, my first hug from Aster was delivered at high velocity while she was wearing chain mail.

“Oof!” I actually staggered under the impact; Nazralind reached out to steady me with one hand on my back, which I’m pretty sure was a gesture of pure mockery since it should have been obvious I was in no danger of falling.

Hugs are nice, but chain mail is hard. I couldn’t help wincing, even as I tentatively raised my arms to give Aster a light squeeze in return and pat her on the back. Actually…chain mail aside, this was okay. Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t had a hug from anybody since my last girlfriend, which was… A year ago? No, two. Two and a half? Something like that. I’d read somewhere that humans require physical contact from other humans to maintain their health, but I suspect that’s one of those Internet Facts based on clickbaity bullshit. Japan is one of the least huggy places on Earth and it’s not like we’re all depressed and miserable.

“We are not separating again!” Aster declared, pulling back just enough to glare at me, grab my shoulders and give me a violent shake.

I gently pried her fingers loose. “Well, well, look who’s suddenly barking orders at whom.”

“Oh, no you don’t. This is not an area where you get to pull rank!” She leveled an accusing finger at my nose from distressingly close. “No matter who you are, there are two people you don’t outrank if you want to live: your doctor, and your bodyguard!”

Captain Norovena emitted a little huffing noise that might have been a cough or cleared throat…or suppressed chuckle. I shot him a look, catching the man biting down on a smile.

“I never have inquired about your home country, Lord Seiji, but in every military and aristocratic hierarchy in every society I’m familiar with, that is indeed the rule. It’s good advice, too. Miss Aster’s capable head is surely as valuable an asset as her sword.”

He was definitely having some fun at both our expense. I decided to let it slide. “Look, Aster, I’m fine. It all worked out! Just ran into some unexpected difficulties, that all.”

“And my job is to be between you and the unexpected difficulties! Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? The gangsters we rounded up were saying you’d died! Never again, Lord Seiji!”

“You know, if you keep yelling at your employer like this in public with no regard for rank and decorum, the Captain here is going to assume we’re sleeping together.”

Aster finally fell silent, apparently out of pure outrage. She was so obviously throttling me inside her mind that I could practically see it reflected in her eyes.

“We are not, for the record,” I added to Norovena. “It’s just that…well, you’re right, Captain, she really is very good at her job, plus other miscellaneous tasks. I find the quality of Aster’s service well worth putting up with her backtalk. Which is unending and spicy.”

“Yes, I’ve been quite positively impressed by her capabilities during this whole operation,” he said in a diplomatic tone. “Anyway, glad as I am to see you two reunited, this situation is still ongoing and I asked you to accompany me for a reason, my lord. If you would follow me, please?”

At my nod, he led the way out of the main area of the middle ring guard headquarters in which Aster had intercepted us. The place looked busier than usual, as I might have expected given what was going on; soldiers were scurrying about, and there were unmistakably others present, including an obvious noble directing small groups of men, plus several well-dressed middle-aged middleborn whom I took for government bureaucrats. The one who’d been shadowing us all the way through the city stepped aside to speak with the aristocrat, while the Convocation priest peeled off down a side corridor. Those two hadn’t said one word in my hearing, which I couldn’t help but think was ominous.

The civil service types were all business, but several of the passing soldiers were grinning at us as Aster and I fell in line behind Norovena, Nazralind bringing up the rear. What can I say, even when it’s not my idea, I put on a good show.

In the corridor outside, I carefully leaned over to nudge Aster with an elbow. She shot me an inquisitive look, and I gave her one right back, raising my eyebrows in a silent question. Comprehension dawned in Aster’s eyes, and then she flicked them significantly toward Nazralind behind us, tilting her head infinitesimally.

Naz, noting the tiny gesture, waved cheerfully. I couldn’t actually see whether she was grinning behind that big fake beard, but it would’ve been on brand.

I gave Aster a nod and a thumbs up. She grimaced faintly, expressing her doubt about our new ally, but did nod back and pat the bulging exterior side pocket of her overcoat, the one in which she kept a semi-permanent nest of cloth scraps.

Even as I looked down at it, the flap shifted just enough for Biribo’s tiny black snout to poke through. He flicked his tongue out at me once and then disappeared back into hiding.

Good. Finally, we had the gang back together. Aster was entitled to a lot more explanations, but they would have to wait till we had a modicum of privacy.

Norovena led us through a set of heavy doors, from behind which a horrific din exploded as soon as he opened one. Wincing, I repressed the urge to cover my ears as I followed him. Behind was a sizable hallway crossing with wide corridors branching out to both sides and directly ahead; along one wall was a smaller door, but the rest were lined with metal bars.

The city’s prison. I was a little surprised to find myself suddenly here, having expected to descend into a dungeon to see this, but I immediately realized how foolish that was. Ephemerans were afraid to dig or go underground, I already knew that. My habitual patterns of thought were going to get me in real trouble one of these days, but there was just so much to adjust to on this weird-ass planet.

“Apologies for the noise, my lord.” Captain Norovena had to raise his voice to a near-shout to be audible at all, what with the constant roar of men yelling from in their cells, and guards shouting back and occasionally whacking at the cell bars with clubs. “We’re full well past capacity, and these animals are about the only people having a worse day than my men.”

On the contrary, I suspected everyone in the Gutters was having a worse day than either, considering they’d done nothing to deserve it. That would’ve been a pointless thing to say in this company, however, so I took the excuse of the noise to just nod at him without answering.

The Captain marched straight to the sole door and opened it, beckoning us after.

Inside was an office. The walls were covered with blueprints of the prison section and various charts I didn’t try to read in detail, save for the wall behind the sole heavy desk, which was a floor-to-ceiling rack of pigeonhole shelves mostly full of scrolls. At the desk sat a heavyset middleborn man in a Kingsguard uniform without armor, looking up at the interruption with his bushy eyebrows drawn together in an intense scowl. I couldn’t blame him; all four of us had just trooped into his office uninvited, and Norovena had shut the door behind us.

He pretty much had to if he wanted to carry on a conversation in here. We could still hear the roar of the prison through it, just muffled.

“Warden,” said Norovena. “Apologies for the interruption, but I’ll need to borrow your office for a few minutes.”

“Captain,” the Warden replied, scowling even harder. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m having a rather busy day.”

“We’re all having the same day, Warden Divanno,” Norovena said in a tone that invited no further commentary. “Nor am I asking you to twiddle your thumbs in the hall. I need to have today’s guest of honor moved from the secured cells to an interrogation room. Given who else is packed into all your crates this morning, I’d be happier if you tended to that personally and make sure nothing goes awry.”

With some effort I kept my mouth shut. The secured cells? Then what the hell were the rest of them?

Divanno’s eyebrows lowered further, the eyes beneath them narrowing to slits as they darted across the three of us. “You are talking about the informant? Lamm?”

“The same.”

“Hmf. Well, it’s not as if I’m making any headway here,” he finally grunted with ill grace, tossing his pen down atop the papers on his desk and rising. “If you’re planning to have that matter tied off it’ll be at least some of this bullshit squared away. By your leave, Captain.”

We cleared a way for him to reach the door, resulting in a momentary squeeze against one wall.

“If I could prevail upon your servants, Lord Seiji,” Norovena said, raising his voice above the hubbub as Warden Divanno stepped out, “perhaps if they watch the door and inform any visitors that the Warden is not in, it will spare us any interruption.”

It didn’t take two people to do that; he wanted privacy. Which meant this was probably something I’d want to hear.

“Good idea. Aster, and…”

“Oh, just call me Gulder, Miss Aster,” said Nazralind in that raspy drawl which failed to quite obscure her lovely contralto. “Common huntsman, I am, an’ right proud t’be of service to Lord Seiji, yup yup.”

Aster stared at her, then turned a classic Aster Look on me.

“Gulder is trustworthy,” I said with a smile. “He’s a friend of Twigs. I’ll explain everything when it calms down a bit.”

“Of course, Lord Seiji,” she said, sighing.

Norovena wasted no time getting down to business as soon as the door shut behind them. “This Lamm character presents a wrinkle, Lord Seiji. He appears to be the highest-ranking member of Lady Gray’s organization who’s ever voluntarily turned on her. The information he gave has been largely responsible for the success of the King’s Guild’s initial raids early this morning, and even with Gray herself out of the picture, his insights into crime in Gwyllthean are an absolute treasure trove. Left to my own devices, I’d like to keep him secured here for…well, the foreseeable future, at least until confinement erodes his cooperative spirit, and then I’d rather see him bribed with security and comfort to keep helping us as long as his help stays good. There’s some precedent for turning skilled criminals into skilled law enforcement.”

“Oh dear, all that was extremely positive,” I said, wincing. “That means the ‘but’ I hear coming is going to be enormous.”

“The biggest ‘but’ of them all,” Norovena sighed, running a hand through his light brown hair. “Politics. The downside of involving the Clans in this matter is…the Clans are involved. Mostly smaller Clans with holdings close to Gwyllthean, firmly under Clan Aelthwyn’s control and not daring to upset the haycart too much. But they’re also keenly interested in taking advantage of all this furor, seeking ways to score influence with the Archlord, and it’s taking the form of a bunch of small proxy battles which are already making my job needlessly difficult. Lamm has become just such a flashpoint. Some of the highborn who’ve chosen to insert themselves into my business agree with my take, but others are agitating to have him made an example of, as a deterrent to other criminals.”

“Wow. That’s…impressively stupid. Do these lordlings actively want to discourage people from siding with the government against bandits and crime lords?”

Norovena indulged himself in a momentary grimace before smoothing his expression and folding his hands behind his back in parade rest position. “These are small households which control about a square limn each of farmland or at most a khora plantation, Lord Seiji. Their interest in seizing this opportunity to get involved in politics doesn’t mean they understand the first thing about the politics in question. However, a Highlord is a Highlord. The favor of the Goddess does not differentiate by skill or prestige.” His lips twisted for a second as if he could barely spit out that mouthful of irony without choking on it. “It’s not for the likes of me to explain to my betters how my job works. I believe you don’t reside in the city itself, my lord?”

I hesitated, instinctively wary of giving up information to this man. But that was irrational; he knew this much already. The Kingsguard I kept bribing had seen me coming and going and it would be well within Captain Norovena’s power to find out that I had no permanent address in Gwyllthean, only a preferred inn.

“That’s correct.”

He nodded. “If you are willing to arrange it, my lord, I think the best solution to this dilemma is for Master Lamm to join your household for the time being. That way we can retain access to his knowledge and skills, and once he is removed from Kingsguard custody the point becomes moot and the Clans will drop it.”

“Won’t him suddenly disappearing from under their noses just rile them up?”

“Not if it’s done in the proper way.” Norovena smiled thinly. “Fortunately, nothing in this entire country is on the up and up. For a man like me who has seen and had to facilitate countless schemes of the nobility which affect my duties, it’s quite simple to create or not create the requisite paper trails and suggestions of influence to convince the Clans that one of them pulled strings to make this happen. Continuing to pursue the matter with the Kingsguard will then be too dangerous for these smaller Clans, lest they antagonize their patron the Archlord, and besides they will set to scheming against one another to find out who has Lamm, because that is what Fflyr aristocrats do. You, Lord Seiji, are not considered part of their system; most of them aren’t even aware of you. If you can take custody of the man himself, I can arrange the necessary cover.”

I hummed softly in thought. “Mmm. The catch is I’m not really equipped to keep someone prisoner in the long term. I see the value in your idea, but it’ll depend on Lamm. If he’s not inclined to sign on with me specifically, me removing him from the city is just going to give him an opportunity to disappear.”

“I considered that,” the Captain acknowledged, nodding. “I believe the risk warranted in this case, my lord. You have a proven knack for befriending the high and the low alike, and Lamm in particular has already been persuaded to turn on his former mistress in favor of you.”

“I guess he has, at that.” Shit, this was going to complicate things. Well, I’d already recruited some of Gray’s minions. Norovena was right that Lamm had chosen me over Gray once, but it remained to be seen how he’d react once he learned who and what he’d be working for. “I gather that’s why you wanted him put in an interrogation room.”

“It seemed to me that a chance for you to speak with him in privacy would give you sufficient opportunity to persuade him, my Lord.”

“I’m flattered by your confidence, Captain,” I said dryly.

A pause fell, and I felt myself about to make a mistake.

I knew it was a bad idea, I was logically aware that the smart play here was to politely avoid the topic. I knew even if I could somehow win my case here verbally, there would be no chance of changing any of the real world outcomes and nothing to be gained by pushing it with Norovena. But god damn it, I was only human. There were some things that couldn’t be handwaved away without so much as a word.

“On the subject of things which are stupid,” I said, impressed with the evenness of my own tone, “with the greatest possible respect, Captain, what do you hope to accomplish by having your men stomp through the Gutters breaking shit?”

Norovena stared at me with a singularly neutral expression for a long enough span of seconds for me to reflect on what a pointless thing my big mouth had just done, yet again. There was no way this slippery crook of an official was going to reveal, much less do, anything useful here.

Then he nodded, once, slowly. “Thank you for phrasing it that way, Lord Seiji. I? For my part, I have no expectations. Not good ones, at least. Your plan was put to Archlord Caludon himself, as the only man on Dount with the power to put it into action. He made his own…amendments. What’s now happening out there is the foremost of those.”

“You mean to imply that you don’t agree with it?”

His smile tried to be bland, but was a touch too razor-thin. “I am but a humble servant of the King and Clan Aelthwyn. It would simply never occur to me to question the dictates of my betters.”

“Of course,” I said. “Captain, men like us can never cut the bullshit entirely, we both know that. But at this point, surely we can…lower the volume a smidge? After all, it’s not like there’s any possible benefit to me in getting you in trouble. What am I going to do, take a gamble that the next Kingsguard Captain would be as amenable to working with me and then start from scratch befriending him?”

That bought me a more sincere-looking smile. “I do so enjoy your…elegant pragmatism, Lord Seiji. Very well, to…lower the volume…what’s going on out there is a prime example of how the perspective of a man in my position differs from that of my superiors. To the Clans, this is reinforcing the order of society, an unpleasant but banal task that must be done every once in a while, like pruning the bladegrass. To me, it represents an incoming period of every part of my job being harder than it needs to.”

He paused, turning away to regard one of the charts of the prison layout. Knowing he was staring past, not at it, I remained silent for a moment while he gathered his thoughts.

“The last such crackdown was four years ago, just after I attained my current position. It was much smaller in scope, and in response to an actual rebel movement. The lowborn blamed the rebels, who never had much popular support to begin with, and the whole thing passed…relatively quietly. The time before that was, let’s see… Twelve years ago. That was just after I’d joined the Kingsguard, yes.” He paused, his shoulders shifting in a quiet sigh. “Much more on the scale of what’s happening today. The outcome of a feud between two Clans which had nothing to do with the commoners at all. The Convocation stepped in to mediate a truce, and so that no highborn were forced to lose face, the infighting was blamed upon an entirely fictitious conspiracy against the King. It was a lie, and everyone knew it was a lie. And after the Kingsguard finished beating the Gutter-folk into submission, it was two years before they stopped trying to dump chamber pots on us out of second-floor windows. It’s only been within the last two years that my men have been able to get any cooperation from Gutters citizens that’s not coerced at sword point.” He sighed again, more heavily. “Well, at least I have the experience to know what my people can expect in the immediate future.”

It was hard to come up with something to say to that. Or rather, hard to come up with something germane and useful. I’m pretty much never without any comment at all.

“I’ve gotta say, that doesn’t make it sound any less foolish. Even if it’s not their pretty clothes getting mussed on street patrol, the highborn are still supported by the income of the country itself. In other words, the people. Imagine how much richer and more powerful they could be if this place were managed with an iota of common sense.”

“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” He gave me a wry smile sidelong. “We must simply be content with the assurance that the Goddess’s chosen know what they are doing.”

Yeah, we definitely knew what they were doing.

“Aren’t you worried about riots? Seems like the consequences of provoking a mob could be worse than chamber pots.”

Norovena turned away again, this time staring at the wall of scrolls behind the desk. He was silent for such a long span of seconds I opened my mouth to prompt him when he abruptly spoke.

“You have noticed, I’m sure, that at least a quarter of the Gutters is abandoned. Close to a third, by some estimates. Gwyllthean had a significantly larger population recently enough that all those buildings have not had a chance to completely decay.”

“I have,” I said slowly.

“That event I spoke of,” Norovena continued, his voice unusually soft against the muffled background noise of the prison outside. “The feud between Clans. It was Olumnach and Rhaednyl, specifically. The whole thing happened just after the harvest. Just after Archlord Caludon ascended to the high seat of Clan Aelthwyn and the fief of Gwyllthean. His first act as Archlord, while the feud was escalating, was to have all the harvest brought into the middle ring and stored in warehouses there, to protect it from unrest. That was not popular with anyone, of course, but at the time it was just…an inconvenience and an odd decision, the sort of things the Clans do all the time. No one considered it worth raising a fuss over. None of us realized what he was planning.” He hesitated, rolling one shoulder as if it had stiffened. “Then came the truce, and the crackdown. And then there were mobs and riots. And then… Caludon closed the gates.”

Norovena turned back to face me directly, staring right into my eyes.

“He not only secured Gwyllthean’s defenses as if its lowborn population were a besieging army, he mobilized the Kingsguard and Clansguards loyal to Clan Aelthwyn to secure the landbridges off Dount. All except the northern bridge out of Dlemathlys entirely. And then, with no way to escape the island and all the food locked behind the walls with the upper classes…he waited.”

For once, it was I who was spellbound listening to someone else’s performance. He wasn’t even all that great a storyteller, but the sheer horror of what unfolded kept me transfixed while the Captain recalled the details for me.

“It took nine weeks, all told, for him to relent. Time enough for the food to run out, for people who had just expected to benefit from the recent harvest to begin starving. The Clans were forewarned what was happening, and to a one they immediately hoarded everything they could in their fortresses and sealed their gates, instead of even trying to share with the common people. Many of those common people died trying to storm the fortified landbridges, or Clan fortresses. Many died because they fled north to Godspire, which either kept them outside the city walls in squalid refugee camps or used them as fodder for gladiators in their Grand Arena. There’s no telling how many attempted to survive in the wild khora and were killed by beastfolk or the dark elves, who would have considered that an invasion. Obviously, a lot just starved. The Convocation tried to intercede and were rebuffed. The King attempted to send food aid to the people; Archlord Caludon turned the caravans back at the landbridges. This was before Lord Vanderhoen’s reforms; the King was much weaker then than now, far too unsure of his authority to risk forcing the issue.

“Caludon Aelthwyn himself made a daily ritual of standing on the outer walls of the middle ring and throwing bread. Not enough bread, of course—just enough to make people fight for it. And he demanded that they fight, brawling in the streets like animals. If the amount of bloodshed satisfied him, he would throw more bread. If the people tried to exercise some solidarity and share what little there was, there would be no bread the next day. He played similar mind games with the nobles inside the walls. Those who participated in his little…diversions earned favor. They would pelt the commoners from the battlements with mixtures of food, offal, and chunks of masonry, just to earn a smile from their Archlord. Any who refused…well. There are consequences for being out of favor with the ruling Clan.

“It took nine weeks for the pressure to mount on all sides to the point that he was forced to relent. That was enough time for his point to be made. Dount has still not recovered, as you can plainly see by walking through the Gutters. Economically, productively… This is a rich island in terms of the luxury goods it can produce, but we’re not nearly where we were before Caludon’s Siege. The Radiant Convocation has never forgiven Clan Aelthwyn and that causes him no end of political trouble. Absolutely nothing good resulted from the whole disaster. And his Lordship still speaks fondly of it as his greatest success.”

It was a few seconds after he stopped talking before I could find words.

“Wow. That’s…”

The most evil thing I’ve ever heard of, and I’ve met the actual Goddess of Evil.

“…creative.”

Norovena tilted his head slightly, studying me. “In a number of ways, Lord Seiji, you remind me of Archlord Caludon.”

“Captain, all I know about the man is what you’ve just told me, and I have to say, my feelings are hurt.”

“Oh, you are far more personable than he. I suspect his Lordship has never considered anyone’s opinion to have enough value that learning to be personally charming was worth his time. But you do have notable points in common. The same flair for drama and disregard for convention, a certain…highly flexible imagination. When your plan was presented to the Archlord in the middle of last night, he was absolutely delighted by it.”

And wasn’t that just the kick in the balls I didn’t need right now.

“To answer your question,” the Captain said, shaking his head, “no, I am not worried about riots. Even if this were not a population who are vividly aware of the consequences of resistance, that kind of pressure takes time to build up. All morning I have been under observation by various bureaucrats and Clan representatives, and diligently creating the impression that this morning’s business is reaching its natural endpoint. So long as I get clearance to pull my men back before noon, I think things will settle down. But you understand, I cannot suggest that, even by implication. It would only make me a target for the malice of…well. All I can do is understand what the people watching me value, and guide their perceptions to the conclusion that it’s in their best interests to stop. But in the meantime…no. They won’t riot.”

I nodded slowly. “Three percent.”

Norovena cocked his head again. “My lord?”

“Sorry. Never mind. It’s just a statistic I read once. So, no riots, just…chamber pots?”

“Oh, there will be plenty of anger after today,” he grimaced. “But they know better than to express it in any organized fashion. It will be smaller, individual outbursts, delivered from hiding wherever possible. And always at fellow lowborn in uniform who represent the Clans, never any of the highborn themselves.”

“And thus do the Clans remain in power.”

“They have it down to a science,” he nodded.

The office door cracked open, emitting a torrent of noise, which was actually good timing. We were pretty much done here, and I could use a break to process what I’d just heard. Nazralind poked her disguised head inside.

“Beggin’ ya pardon, me lord, Cap’n sir, but th’ Warden’s back, aye aye he is.”

The door swung the rest of the way open and Warden Divanno pushed in past her, giving Nazralind the most vivid “what the hell is this idiot supposed to be” look I’d ever seen. Apparently he didn’t dare express that verbally in front of his superior officer and his superior officer’s rich friend, though.

“The prisoner’s moved to an interrogation room as you requested, Captain,” Divanno reported. “Good instincts, sir. I dunno how they got wind but the scum jamming up the cells seem to know who ratted on ‘em. Just moving him through the corridors required a full soldier escort and it’s got those animals riled up something fierce.”

I honestly couldn’t tell from here; the noise sounded about the same.

“Ugh.” Norovena bared his teeth in a grimace. “I don’t have any more men to spare you, Warden, but as soon as I can pull a squad back I’m going to station crossbowmen at the prison wing’s entrance. Those riffraff aren’t destined for anything better than the whipping post if they’re lucky and I’ve no time to play gently with them. At the first sign of one of those cells bursting open, I want everyone in it dead.”

“I’ll see those orders relayed, sir,” the Warden said, nodding. “Might come to that, but I don’t think so. Thank the Goddess we just had that renovation; all the bars are sound as of last year. Not for nothing did the Kingsguard spring for iron fixings.”

“All right, we’ll give you back your office,” said Norovena, ushering me toward the door with a gesture. “Let’s go see to our man, Lord Seiji. And, my lord, concerning what I just told you…”

“Yes?”

He fixed me with another serious look as we passed back out into the noisy hall, raising his voice just enough to be heard. “Archlord Caludon was very interested in learning about the man who devised last night’s strategy. You have his attention, Lord Seiji. I gather he’ll be keenly following your progress in the future.”

Nazralind stiffened up visibly, raising her head to give me a clear view of the suddenly terrified look in her eyes under that floppy hat. Even Aster tensed, instinctively reaching for the handle of her huge sword.

I didn’t need those signs, or Norovena’s significant tone, to recognize that that had not been a compliment, but a warning.

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