Mystic Ink - Ch. 72 A Mad Plan (Patreon)

“Honestly, I am rather disappointed.”  Cass grumbled as the body was hauled away.  “He talked a much bigger game than he could handle, I was just getting warmed up.”

Cass failed to notice that everyone around her was wide eyed and edging away carefully- as one might when confronted with an animal that they would not want to provoke.  She seemed more beast-like than the magical beasts themselves.

She had only worked her way up to his forearm, he had plenty of bones left to break but his mind had gone first.  Well, Cass supposed that no matter how much resistance one had before they broke, it would never compare to the pain tolerance you could obtain afterwards.  Still, she had gotten the information she wanted, part of it anyway.

Not too far away from here was a small cave system where experiments were taking place on the manticores, experiments that had paid off.  Cass walked over to one of the manticore corpses and carefully shifted the spines on its tail.  Around the tail, just below the stinger, were a pair of metal rings.

Slave collars.

The masked controller had not been able to say much about the experiments or the changes made to the collar, but he did reveal that there were two mages that stayed in the caves and that they often had noble visitors.  Including, as it happens, Baron Rence.  However, the Baron also seemed to not be the most willing participant and had argued with the mage in charge several times.

So the Baron had borrowed a knife to strike at them in the form of Cass and her soldiers.  She did not appreciate being used in this way, but she was also very curious what they held over the Baron to force his obedience.  For that matter, she was unsure why this experiment was being run out in some caves in the middle of nowhere.

The presence of mages, while something she had suspected and expected as this had gone on, complicated things somewhat because they were almost certainly from noble families.  Non-noble mages were rare in Haj, after all, and the mages had to come from somewhere.  So Cass could not simply kill them without consequence and the caves had still more manticores and even some human guards.

“Sir Rammusson, get the men back to sleep as soon as possible,” Cass made her decision and issued a command.  “They will be aware they failed before long, if they are not already.  Which means they will be ready for us tomorrow, we need to be rested to meet the challenge.”

“My Lady,” Rammusson began cautiously.  “Are you certain?  I am worried that they will hit the camp again.  I would do so, and if they use their full strength it would be a very hard fight.  If we attack them, it will be much the same.”

“I agree, and I’d rather not risk it if possible,” Cass admitted.  “However, I doubt it will come to that.  If I have read the situation right, despite how it may appear, they are more in a corner than we are.”

After all, noble born mages would hardly choose to live and work in a cave next to disgusting and filthy monsters instead of the luxury of their homes and the convenience of their territory if they had a choice in the matter.  The fact that the Baron had confronted them and been turned back seemed to indicate that, if not for whatever they held over him, he would have been able to oust them from the territory.

So if there backing was a shaky as Cass predicted, she doubted they would have the resources to easily lose much more than they had already.  Seven manticores, fourteen modified slave collars, and three of their human servants was a significant loss.  Even if they could defeat Cass’s forces- which was not guaranteed- the operation would be essentially finished.

So if they were confronted, Cass presumed they would prefer to deal with her in negotiations instead of battle.  Despite her belief, she was nervous.  If she misread this- even if she just failed to gauge how likely they were to let cooler heads prevail and talk to her- it would be violent and bloody.

“If it does become a fight, we can always simply pull back.” Cass thought aloud.  “The beasts could keep up with us, but not there handlers or leaders.”

Sir Rammusson seemed less than enthused about the idea, appearing to mull it over before he spoke.  Whatever he said, Cass planned to consider it seriously.  Her education was lacking and rushed, and she had far more to go- to especially in terms of military command.  Just because Cass figured she knew how they would react, did not mean that they would react in what she presumed was a reasonable way when they were cornered by her forces.

“My Lady, trying to fight and retreat from these things,” he said as he kicked one of the dead bodies nearby.  “Will be a far cry from facing them head on.  Even we can't shield ourselves effectively and retreat in good order- and these things are probably faster than us anyway.  If we stop to fight them, their soldiers and mages will catch up and we will be back to square one.”

“And if we pretended to fall back to create a gap between the beasts and their handlers?” Cass suggested, not willing to give up so easily even if she understood the knight's point.  “Before they could catch up again we could turn on the beasts and butcher them, leaving us with just some lightly armed guards and the two mages.”

“With all due respect, you have never fought against mages in any organized battle, have you Lady Cass?”

“Technically, yes, but it was hardly a usual situation and I was out of the fight pretty quickly.” The raid from Beergmutar would actually have been around this scale, but Cass had not taken part in that as either a commander or a soldier.  In fact, it did not take much consideration to realise the way she fought was not very conducive to fighting as a squad or larger group.  Cass was, to her own amusement, not very different in style from the manticores- although she was a fair bit smarter.  A skirmisher who was strong against small groups and could strike with both speed and power, but her effectiveness waned as the number of troops went up.

“So essentially all I know is theory,” Cass continued.  “And not a whole lot of that as of yet.  If I am to be honest, despite having some rather esoteric knowledge compared to most mages in Haj, my own training as a mage is woefully incomplete.”

It stun a bit to admit that, but there was a lot of things Cass had to learn and no amount of effort that could grant her the two decades of training in magic, politics, economics, history, and military in a short amount of time.  Even with her Master's training to motivate her, there was only so much a human was capable of in a day.

“Right, so the short version of what you can expect…  It depends on the quality of the mage, but the basic staples are usually some kind of fireball and some kind of projectile attack, usually a stone or something similar.”  Rammusson began to explain some of the more common magics seen in the field, and why they were such an issue for massed soldiers.  “Most mages will have more tricks than those, but they almost always open with one of those kinds of strikes.  A decent mage’s fireball won’t necessarily light anyone on fire, but it won’t need to.  Any exposed skin will be fried and the soldier will almost certainly be disabled.  Real nasty mages, generally older ones, can create fireballs that even suck the life out the air.  You will be able to pull air into your lungs, but you won’t be able to breathe it.”

“A mage experienced in combat could send out a few dozen and demolish a formation that lacks defensive mage support- not that you can ever rely on that, but I digress- so it is extremely difficult to hold a line against mage supported forces.  Once the line breaks, the exposed soldiers will be picked off with projectiles, which can be anything from rocks, to arrows, to a bolt from a siege engine.  And this is the minimum you can expect from a mage, someone like Baron Rence, for example.”

“However, not every mage is like that, our Lord and your Ladyship being prime examples.  While I have never seen mages that fight quite like either of you, I have seen more than one mage capable of making the air itself sharp.  Simply breathing in his presence would have enemies coughing up blood and dying.  And, if I were a betting man, I would say it is almost certain that the kind of mages who would be out here experimenting would be the kind of mages to have some unique form of attack.”

Rammusson finished his lecture by saying, “So if you expect us to be able to easily retreat with enemy mages on the field, you have another thing coming.

All of the things Rammusson said were valid points, Cass reluctantly conceded, and things she had not considered.  Despite living and serving with, as well as being, a mage she had put very little thought to how they might fight- traditionally, anyway- and how that would apply to soldiers.

Rammusson, and likely the enemy mages, were far superior to her in this game.  Certainly, they had made a mistake in assuming that this attack would succeed, but this was likely there first time encountering glyphed soldiers like these ones.  The ones controlling the manticores sometimes would ‘lose’ one for a time- though compulsion would always force the beast back- according to the handler Cass had interrogated.  They had lost one after the village attack, and that was almost certainly the one Cass killed.

They had made a mistake, but they probably would not make a second.  Luck would only get Cass so far, and this was probably the end of it.

So if they would beat her at this game, maybe she should play another?  Cass was leaving her past, and the street behind, but did that mean she had to leave behind the streets lessons and tricks?  Its games?

“My order stands, Rammusson.”  Cass said as a feral smile spread over her face, “but the plan for tomorrow is going to be a little…  Complicated…”

*Rammusson*

Sir Darius Rammusson was no stranger to the schemes and treachery of the noble classes.  To say that the government of Haj was fractious would be to far understate the situation- the webs of power and influence grew ever more convoluted with each power play, which were incessant.

His current situation, the knight thought to himself as his soldiers marched through the forest, was a perfect exhibit of the normal balance of power.

His family, a knight family, was, arguably, the lowest rung on the ladder of Haj nobility.  Knights rarely owned land, and instead served under a higher ranked noble as elite soldiers and servants.  While Barons rarely had such a family serving them, Viscounts would always have at least one and as many as four in some cases.

The Rammusson Family had come to serve House Hall after breaking ties with their old lords, an action unique to the mostly landless noble rank of knights.  A knight family would take an oath of loyalty to the house they would serve, and there would be similar oaths in return.  While this used to be something of an honor and a sacred ritual in ancient times, today it was not too much more than a business transaction- even to knight families like the Rammusons that kept to the old ideas of honor.

Darius’ father had broken off their former contract and found a new one in the Hall family, through a recommendation of a mutual friend between Darius and the heir to the Hall family.  The whole situation had looked far more stable than a lot of noble families looked.  An ascendant, but not overly fast rising, house that had a decent enough relationship with one of their neighbors that the heir was marrying their only daughter.  Wilric Hall’s heir, Sarius, had seemed far more interested in magic than politics, and that was seen as a good sign for a stable future that would stay out of the south’s troubles.  Darius had had his doubts, he would never have imagined a noble family without some kind of intrigue and did not believe it when his father had presented the Hall’s as such.

It was not very long after the oaths had been taken that it had become obvious that Darius was right.

House Hall and House Amall were in the middle of an unpleasant game where the winner would probably end up usurping or even outright absorbing the loser’s territory and family.  To make matters worse, that game centered around Lord Sarius Hall and Lady Clare Amall- now Lady Clare Hall- who absolutely hated each other.  It was complicated by the fact that the Halls were divided and the son not only despised his father but also opposed him politically in many places, and publicly.

If it had just been this much, oddly enough, it would have been low key enough for politics this close to the Imperial Center that Darius would not have cared very much.  If this was all, it would be abnormal only in how tame it was, but of course there was more.

Not only did the son have some significant backers in the Tower, the innovations he had made to soldier’s glyphs had potentially revolutionary implications.  Sarius Hall had, and was, leveraging those glyphs against his father for control of House Hall- but Viscount Hall was far more politically entrenched and stable than any Viscount had a right to be and House Amall was not far behind.

Still, House Hall was showing some splinters from the split and fight between father and son- Darius Rammusson was one such splinter.

After the oaths had already been taken, another nasty revelation was that Viscount Wilric Hall was, to put it mildly, a psychopath.  His son was as well, but the difference was like the night and day, Sarius Hall was a paragon of morality compared to his father.  The standard oaths were written in such a way that so long as a knight was serving the family they swore to, they did not necessarily need to serve the head of the House.  So Darius had chosen Lord Sarius Hall and upon going to his side, realized that this family was an even bigger mess than it looked like.

His Lord’s Hand was, essentially, an enslaved homeless orphan of the Imperial Family who had been driven mad from a mixture of magical experimentation and torture.

Lady Cassandra had to be mad, or how else would anyone explain why she came crawling back to her torturer and go from human experiment to human experiment and sex slave?  

And of course, it would take a madwoman to think up and order this plan to take place.  His cheerful attitude, which was a mask he wore to hide the disappointment and disgust he had for the world around him, had slowly been chipped away over the past couple of days as it became clear that this was a bigger mess than they had ever thought and his Lady seemed intent on forging ahead.  Her sending the villagers away last night had been the last straw it had taken for that mask to slip entirely, how could they be sure their plan was not leaked to the enemy by now?

They found the forest caves soon enough and the forces arrayed in front of it and Darius noted the shawl wearing woman that shouted and pointed at him and his men.

“See?  There they are, just as I told you milords!”

“Indeed,” a nearby hooded man said cooly.  “We will have to suitably reward you once this is all settled for your timely warning miss.”

There were two hooded men, behind the ranks of snarling manticores and armed guards.  They were probably the mages and it was too them Darius made his address as he stepped forward.

“I am Sir Darius Rammusson in service to House Hall and was hunting the magical beasts reported to be troubling these lands by the request of Baron Rence,” he said, speaking loudly and clearly.  He was thankful Lady Cass had allowed him to negotiate, he dreaded to think what the inexperienced girl would have done if she had been left to it herself.  “I desire no quarrel with your Lordships or your Lordship’s Houses, however I am oath-bound to discharge my orders and end the threat to this land- I was hoping we could come to an arrangement without bloodshed.”

It was, Darius reflected, probably their only chance of making it out alive.  The Lady Hand’s plan was dangerous and would only be considered by an insane person- he did not believe for a second that it would work and would eat his own boots if it did.  Though admittedly, the first part seemed to have- miraculously- succeeded.

“I imagine you would like that,” the same cool voice man replied.  “Seeing as how we hold the advantage.  Why should we even continue this conversation further?”

“Even if you can win- something that I personally doubt- twenty heavy infantry bearing House Hall’s new glyphs can do quite a lot of damage before it is put down I think.”  Darius spoke with far more confidence than he actually felt, though part of that was just the nerves that would precede any possible combat.  “You’ve lost what, seven manticores already?  We trashed those collars on their tails too.  I am not a mage, but it seems pretty obvious to me that won’t be an easy loss to stomach- why add more?”

“A fair point coming from an idiot knight family brute?  I am considerably impressed!”  The affected surprise coming from the man was grating, to say the least, and his continued arrogance would become hard for Darius to stomach- though it did raise the possibility of a higher noble than a mere Baron or Viscount behind this.  “Still, your thoughts are too shallow.  We, like you, have our own duties- and manticores grow to adulthood long before humans do, so their loss is hardly terrible.  A stick is useful in a bargain, but it losses something if it does not have the carrot to entice the other party on.”

Translating out of noble-speak, he had basically asked for payment.  What, did he expect that Darius had dragged out a chest of gold with him into a forest?

“Maybe it does, but if the stick isn’t enough what is to stop the other party from taking the carrot anyway?”  Darius purposefully left out whether or not he could bribe them and continued on, “but either way, you are done here whether or not I or my men leave her alive.  The Halls will demand an answer from the Baron for my disappearance, and the Baron was obviously tired of your presence already because he sent me out here- so I doubt he will hold back.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not.  The territories to the north are about to have more than their fair share of problems very soon, we might be able to slip away in the chaos.”

“Gambling, huh?  Well, if I had known you were the kind of men for that I wouldn’t have come here thinking you’d take the reasonable option.  If you think that the Halls are the kind of people who let things go you are in for a very painful surprise.”  The first bit was a complete lie, but Darius was dead serious about the second part.  “I suppose it’s your call in the end, but we both have an easy out in this.”

The hooded man seemed to consider for a moment and Darius counted the seconds that ticked by in awkward silence.

“I admit,” the man said suddenly.  “The offer is tempting.  I am not in the habit of taking losses I can avoid, especially when it is for little to no gain.”

Darius’s sudden hopes were dashed a second later though.

“However, something that I find far more unpleasant would be taking insults from my lessers,” the man’s voice went from cool to cold, filled with a dangerous sort of anger.  “If not for that, I might have let you be, but instead-”

The man was clearly about to order an attack, but he did not get the chance.  The woman behind him, blonde hair and golden collar hidden by the shawl she had stolen off a villager, swept him and his partner off their feet and had her hands at their throats a heartbeat later.

Despite acting rationally for most of the time Darius had known her, in the end, the wicked smile and shining eyes of Lady Cass confirmed his suspicions that she was genuinely mad.  Brilliant in some ways, but mad.