4.35 In Which the Dark Lord Barks Up the Right Tree (Patreon)

Noble households were usually swarming with functionaries, guards, and attendants of various kinds, but Aster and I made it the entire way down the corridor, through the big grandiose entry hall Fflyr liked so much, and out into the bracing winter air before we encountered anyone, these being the two Clansguard stationed flanking the manor’s front doors.  It was almost as if the nearby lowborn had just observed something going on that they wanted to be nowhere in the vicinity of.

We descended the front steps into what became the main street of the village just outside the gates up ahead.  People were going about their business or winter festivities out there, depending on their social class.  It was comparatively still here on the manor grounds, along the path between the highborn oasis behind us and the outside world ahead.  It felt symbolic, though of what I wasn’t literary enough to discern.  At any rate, I had the distinct feeling this was the last moment of peace and quiet I’d see for a while.

Almost exactly midway along the path, I heard footsteps behind us.  They sounded…heavy.

I turned around, and yep, there was Rhydion striding right toward us.  Behind him, Lord Ruell was just emerging at a more languid pace from the manor doors, his foxwoman companion having materialized at some point in the interim.  Had to wonder what she’d been doing unsupervised in that mansion.

“You handled that well, Lord Seiji,” Rhydion said by way of greeting.

“Did I?  Wow, and here I expected you to be full of criticism as usual.”

“Because you deliberately antagonized an unstable monster of a person who is already plotting harm?”  He shook his head once.  “In this case, I do not think it matters.  Caludon Aelthwyn lives every moment of his life inflicting the greatest cruelty he can devise on everyone around him, and that is his fundamental strategic weakness.  There is nowhere for him to escalate.  Nothing he is about to do in response to you is anything he wasn’t planning to anyway.  On the contrary, given how unpopular he is, inflicting a public humiliation upon him won you a great deal of popularity among the attending highborn.  And…I know very well how much restraint it took to sit through that without exploding into violence.”

Did he, now.

“Consequences,” I grunted in reply.

“Miss Delavada’s contribution was unfortunate,” Rhydion added, turning his blank helmet on her.  “I fear that will cost us all dearly in the days to come.  That crowd was primed to begin resisting Caludon’s depravity, but you tainted that resistance with the specter of defiance against the whole system that props them all up.  Now, we will find supporting any counter-efforts a very hard sell among the nobility, to say nothing of those who will have been prompted to outright assist in Caludon’s scheme.  Sometimes, Miss Delavada, one must bow one’s head and accept a lesser suffering to forestall a greater.”

“Yeah?  And you can just shut your great, echoing, gilded gob about it,” Aster snapped, her breath curling visibly in the air like the flames of a rousing dragon.  In that moment I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her so openly angry at anyone, much less Rhydion, her own personal hero.  “All your talk about patience and you’ve never once had to bow your head except metaphorically.  You with your noble rank and invulnerable armor have nothing to say to people who have to bleed for their choices!  And you have the gall to lecture me about the worth of my dignity?”

“The lady has the right of it, ol’ chap,” Ruell commented, sauntering up behind Rhydion and patting him on the pauldron.  “This is an unwise hill on which to plant your flag.  To say nothing of her individual case in point, persecuted peoples everywhere are accustomed to hearing patience and forbearance preached by those who want nothing ever changed.  There’s more than one voice tainting the waters here.”

“I…see your point.”  Slowly, Rhydion nodded his head once, turning back to Aster.  “I apologize.  Though I don’t believe I was incorrect, I can see now that by opening my mouth I committed the exact error of which I accused you.  Forgive me.”

I glanced between Ruell and Rhydion.  “Did you guys really leave poor Lhadron alone with Bishop Fancy Pants and the Crazies?”

Hey, new band name.

“He’s a big boy,” Ruell said dryly, “and I’m told suffering builds character.”

“In my experience,” said Rhydion, “that greatly depends on the suffering, and the character.”

“What’s your next move, then?” I asked, at least as much to steer this in a less awkward direction as because I wanted to know.

“My initial plan has not fundamentally changed.  I must report in at the Guild and the Convocation, and then return to Fflyrdylle to do the same.  These events only add to the pieces I must set in motion.  Remember, Lord Seiji: no one whose cause is just is ever without allies.  You do not fight alone in this.  I will not be silent because I am absent, and the powers I can shift into motion will help matters here on Dount.”

I folded my arms, making my face a museum of the deep skepticism I felt.  “How much?”

“Not enough,” he admitted readily, “not nearly.  There is no single, decisive action that will solve this, at least not without immediately escalating to far greater problems.  Lest the point pass unmade, I will clarify that any open rebellion against a sitting Archlord will result in savage reprisals, not only against those involved, but all the vulnerable people across Dount.  The regime knows no method against resistance save making brutal examples.  Whatever you are about to do, Lord Seiji—and for reasons both personal and practical I do not wish to know—I urge you to be…strategic.”

His helmet shifted minutely as he glanced at Aster and then back at me.

“And yes, patient.  Not with the patience of a slave awaiting rescue which may never come, but the patience of a hunter seeking an opening.”

“Poetic,” I grunted.

“I could have just referenced Alamon and Fthemrys to make the point, but I am told foreigners find that rather annoying.”

“Boy, howdy.”

“I’ve a few ducks of my own to set in a row,” Ruell added with a deliberately vacant smile that didn’t fool me in the least.  “This is hardly my customary stomping ground, but I fancy I’m resourceful enough to make do without other people’s resources.  There are a few interesting questions I’d like answered…ah, but that’s tomorrow’s business.  You lads take care.  I’ve a feeling we’ll chat again soon.”

He bowed, grinning, then turned and sauntered off toward the gate, hands in his pockets.  Arrkeen followed, giving me a long inscrutable look in passing.

“I also must not tarry,” Rhydion stated.  “This business has made my next planned actions more urgent, not less.  Remember, Lord Seiji: patience and strategy.  I have faith in you.”

“And you remember,” I retorted, “don’t fuckin’ sit on your ass.  I’ll be as patient as I can afford to be, I promise.”

“And with that, I shall be content.”  The paladin folded down his hands at me.  “Goddess guide your steps, Lord Seiji.”

Well, at least one of them definitely would.

“Why’re we all saying our goodbyes here in the middle of the path?” Aster muttered as we stood there, watching them go.  “Everybody’s gotta leave through the same gate.  Now we have to stand around in the cold waiting for them to bugger off or it’ll be awkward.”

“Hey, boss,” Biribo whispered from inside my scarf, poking his nose up just next to my ear.  “Gizmit wants a word with you.  Over at the shed where you talked with Maizo before heading out into the forest.”

“Wait, what?”  Aster looked sidelong at me, but said nothing, clearly figuring it out from context clues.

“Yeah, she found an underground spot near the surface right under the manor, then stomped around flapping her arms to get my attention, and said the message with big exaggerated mouth motions.  That goblin’s got a scary accurate read on the range and acuity of my senses, boss.”

If there was one person who’d have sussed out details like that, it was Gizmit.  God damn I was glad I had her on my side.

“That sounds important, then,” I muttered, setting off down the path along which Ruell and Rhydion had just disappeared.  “Let’s go see what’s wrong now.”

***

“Maybe nothing,” Gizmit’s voice reported from within the cracked shed on the outskirts of the village when I was lounging next to it, minutes later.  “I have people keeping an eye through every tunnel entrance around this village, including a very handy one just inside the khora forest nearby.  That’s how I learned there are a bunch of squirrelfolk out there.”

“The squirrels?”  I narrowed my eyes.  What the fuck?  “I thought they avoided the Fflyr.”

“This is far closer to Fflyr territory than I would expect to see even one squirrel hunter,” she agreed, “much less what appears to be about fifty.  Any Fflyr who spot them will likely assume they are massing for an attack.”

“Surely they wouldn’t…”

“It would be suicide, and of the four beast tribes on Dount I would consider the squirrels least likely to attempt something so rash.  I suspect this has something to do with you, or perhaps Rhydion—I don’t believe in coincidences and it seems pretty characteristic that your first visit to their territory would spark some…improbable behavior in response.”

“Thanks, Giz.”

“So no, I’m not sure what exactly they’re doing but I don’t believe it is urgent.  I would have waited to report this until you made your way back underground, except they’ve captured Maizo.”

I bared my teeth, letting my breath out slowly in a long hiss.  The cold made that slightly painful, which felt appropriate.

“He has not been harmed,” she hastened to clarify.  “He’s the goblin I had on the surface out there, keeping watch.  My man hidden in the tunnel entrance stayed to make sure they’re just holding him.  They’re not letting him leave, but he’s not being mistreated.  Considering what squirrelfolk usually do to snoops, that’s practically a gesture of peace in and of itself.  I don’t blame them for plugging an obvious leak; this is how I would handle a known scout belonging to another party I didn’t wish to antagonize.”

“Seems like letting him report back would be the more sociable approach,” Aster commented.

“If they were certain of our goodwill and intentions, perhaps.  Personally, I wouldn’t be, in their position.”

“All right,” I growled.  “I will go get Maizo.  Thanks, Gizmit, good work as always.  I need you to send a message back to North Watch; we’ll be returning there directly once I pick up our guy, and I want my command council assembled and ready to discuss when I arrive.  We have a lot to do and very little time to do it in.”

“Consider it done.  Maizo will be able to guide you to the nearby tunnel entrance in the forest; I’ll have your artifacts waiting for you there.  Do you need any backup?”

“I will either be bringing new squirrelfolk allies with me, or leaving a bunch of squirrelfolk corpses in the forest.  Thank you, but neither will require guards.”

“Understood.  What’s your approach strategy?  If you just cross the field from here, that’s a lot of miscellaneous adventurers and highborn who will see you disappear into the forest…”

“Good.  That is exactly what I want them to see.  Let them chew on that and keep chewing on it while they wonder where I’ll pop up next.”

“I do like your style, Lord Seiji.”  Her voice was amused, and already diminishing as she retreated down the tunnel.  “See you back at base.”

***

Fifty human-sized squirrels are not hard to find; I didn’t even need Biribo’s help.  They were barely deep enough in the forest to be hidden, which made me seriously question what the hell they thought they were up to.  If the King’s Guild decided to send out scouts for any reason there would be big trouble.

Aster and I were not stopped by the outlying sentries; they simply made a series of short, whistling calls, causing the rest of the squirrelfolk to shift aside.  All were armed, but no one raised a weapon at me.  The various hunters moved to clear a path for us toward a clearing deeper in, silent and watchful.

Under other circumstances that could have been intimidating.  I could Heal any poison they shot me with and blast half this forest to kindling; I couldn’t say I was worried.

There were voices up ahead, which turned out to be Maizo himself, seated apparently calmly on a flat stump where someone had cut down an old khora shell, chatting quietly with none other than Zhylvren the Seer.  I was surprised to see her so far from the village, and even more so to find her counterpart.

The squirrel chieftain approached me as I strode into the clearing, his hands folded before himself at the waist, bearing stern and calm as usual.

“Dark Lord.  The tribe has convened and discussed these last four days.  On the matter—of—”

I brushed right past him without slowing.  “You okay, Maizo?”

“Hey, Lord Seiji!” he said, waving and showing off his gold tooth in a grin.  “Yeah, can’t complain.  Look, they gave me a shawl!  Pretty decent thing to do, if you’re gonna keep a guy out in the snow.”

“But they’re not letting you leave.”

“Yeah, well…”  He shrugged.  “You know how it is.  We’re all professionals here.  Didn’t see any reason to make things any more tense.  I like this lady, she’s funny.”

He winked at Zhylvren, who smiled knowingly at me.  I wasn’t in the very specific mood it would take to find her all-knowing and mysterious routine anything other than irritating.

“Yeah, she’s a hoot.  C’mere, please.  We’ll be leaving presently.”

Maizo immediately hopped down and trotted over, looking rather smug about the lack of anyone trying to stop him.

“As I said,” the leader resumed, clearing his throat.  “We have come here on the most solemn concern—”

“Do you remember me telling you I protect my people?” I interrupted, turning to stare him in the eyes.  “And that I avenge those I cannot protect?”

The chief hesitated mid-speech, then nodded once, wariness clear on his face.  “It is a point that has been brought up repeatedly in the discussions of the last few days.”

“That is one of my people,” I stated, pointing at Maizo.  “I appreciate your restraint in not harming him.  I’m less pleased at finding him detained against his will.”

“Understand our position,” Zhylvren said gently.  “This close to the Fflyr, and especially those adventurers, we cannot risk more than we have simply by coming here.  I foresaw that you would arrive shortly and ensured your man was ready and waiting, in good health.”

“I appreciate that as well,” I replied, “which is why this discussion remains civil so far.  But let me be clear.”  I turned back to the chieftain.  “You are not grandstanding.  You are deescalating.”

I folded my arms and raised my chin.

“You may begin.”

The squirrel leader stared at me for a long moment, then let out a short sigh through his nose that swirled away in a puff of frigid mist.

“I suppose when one is the Dark Lord, one gets to make pronouncements like that.  I do understand, Lord Seiji, and it heartens me to see you as protective of even one of your people as I would be of any of mine.  If it improves your mood, we have come here to give you an answer.”

That was probably as good as I was going to get.  I supposed it spoke well of him that he wasn’t easily intimidated, nor willing to grovel and scrape.  In fact, it was probably better for me not to surround myself with bootlickers and yes-men; I’d done well so far to cultivate subordinates who’d stand up to me when it mattered.

“I’m curious why you had to bring so many,” I said, allowing my posture to relax.  “You’re playing with fire, here.  If the Fflyr find you this close to their land there’ll be hell to pay.”

“And perhaps it was for nothing,” he agreed.  “Depending on what unfolds, it may be that we shall all return to the deep forest, no better for the journey.  That is up to you, Dark Lord.  For these last days, the tribe has convened in discussion of the serious matters you laid before us.  At last, we have come to a decision, and followed you here to lay it before you.”

He paused, dramatically, and I reminded myself that I respected dramatic pauses out of principle.  My nerves were still vibrating from my confrontation with Caludon and it took an active effort of will not to take it out on these people.

“We have decided,” the squirrel chieftain intoned solemnly, “how we shall decide.”

Very slowly, I inhaled a deep breath of bracing winter air, and let it out just as slowly through my nose.

“You know…  If I had a silver disc for every time I encountered an entire culture built around being as exasperating as possible, I would have two silver discs.  Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened twice.  I bet you guys would thrive in Australia.”

Many of the assembled squirrels exchanged curious looks.  The chief looked miffed at having the air let out of his solemn moment, and Zhylvren tried not to grin, but didn’t try very hard.

“In fairness, Dark Lord,” she said, “I think your perception of us has been colored by the fact that most of your conversations have been with me.”

“The fact that she so readily admits it does a lot to make her more tolerable,” the chieftain said sourly.  “I see you have no patience for ceremony when it is not your own, Lord Seiji.”

“Look, I apologize,” I said, “sincerely.  You’ve come along at a worse moment than you had any way to know.  I’ve just had a front-row seat for the unveiling of the most evil thing I’ve ever heard of, and I’m in a hurry to get back to my people and set about minimizing the damage as best I can.  So what is it you’ve decided, exactly?”

The amusement and annoyance had respectively faded from their faces at my explanation.

“Very well,” the chief said seriously.  “What it comes down to is this: a majority have decided that we are willing to join you if you can satisfy the great looming question that concerns us the most.  If it proves so, then these hunters, close to half our total strength, have come here, willing to be put to use at your command.”

“All right,” I said, frowning.  That was actually better than I’d dared hope; for just a moment, I allowed myself a flicker of cautious optimism.  “What’s your question?”

“As it stands,” said the chief, “we can see no approach you can take that will not be crushed by your enemies.  We know the power of a Dark Lord, but no singular Blessed no matter how strong can overcome an empire.  Our ancestors came here with your predecessor, and Yomiko had the strength of all Savindar behind her.  I will not consign my people to be slaughtered by Lancoral knights if your only idea is to flail at them with spells and artifacts until they wear you down.  But if you have a strategy to employ that will prevail…  Then we will join our strength to yours.  No, that is poorly spoken,” he corrected himself with a frown.  “We know what it means to serve a Dark Lord.  Understand how much we prize our independence, and the significance of what it means when I say that if you can satisfy this one point, we are willing to pledge loyalty, and…obedience.”

I could, indeed, see it cost him something even to say the word.  Glancing between him and Zhylvren I could tell despite their composure who in these discussions had been heading up the pro- and anti-Seiji camps.  Maybe they were onto something, having a bipolar system of authority like this.  In a way, the solution they’d found was a pretty elegant resolution of such a dilemma.

However…

“So that’s all you want?” I asked quietly.  “My grand strategy?  You want me to lay out for you exactly how I plan to take on the great powers of this world, with the understanding that you might then decide not to join me and take that information off to do who knows what with it?”

“I do not downplay that concern, Dark Lord,” Zhylvren said, for once without any kind of smile or smirk in place.  “But let me ask you this: to whom would we betray you?  Any of your enemies would have to first go through you to even reach us.  And you represent the only faction in the entire history of our tribe who has deigned to address us as equals.  Be they Fflyr or Shylver, the alternatives would seek to either destroy or enslave us, and we are not so naive as to think that would change if we offered them something of value.  It would only better position them to enact their worst impulses toward us, as they always have.”

“There is also the matter that we are not idiots,” the chief added rather dryly.  “I assure you, Dark Lord, I do not require a detailed explanation to know what you would do if we aided your enemies against you.”

That had basically been their stance toward Khariss, at whom they’d sent me the second I showed up with the right blend of appeal and intimidation.

Still.

Taken in totality, I had to sympathize with the position I’d put them in—I knew a thing or two about trying to find your way out of a mess where the only paths forward were varying types and degrees of shitty.

“In the short time I’ve been hangin’ out with ‘em, they’ve struck me as a surprisingly reasonable bunch, boss,” Maizo said softly, “if my opinion counts for anything.”

“I think we owe them some fairness,” Aster added in response to my look in her direction.  “And the benefits outweigh the risks.”

Considering it, I nodded; they were both right.  Which meant I was suddenly in a higher-stakes situation than I’d come here expecting.  Oh, well, must be Tuesday.  There was always time for showtime.

Turning back to the squirrel leader, I put on a smirk deliberately reminiscent of Zhylvren’s customary expression, and leaned forward as if about to whisper conspiratorially; I did lower the pitch of my voice, but projected well enough to be audible to the onlookers.

“The secret ingredient,” I said, “is crime.”

They blinked in unison.

“You’re right to be concerned.”  Straightening back up, I looked around at the alertly watching squirrelfolk.  “And your assessment of the situation is correct—I quickly came to exactly the same conclusion.  Yomiko was a warrior and a general; she accomplished what she did with armies.  What I started with are bandits and prostitutes.  Then, as my reach has slowly expanded, goblins, a few disaffected nobles, the odd merchant syndicate, and tribesfolk from the forest.  No, that will not overcome the armies of Lancor; right now, it’s an open question whether it could take on Fflyr Dlemathys in a straightforward fight, and that’s only even a question because this is the most pathetic country on either of the planets I’ve lived on.  So…why would I give them a straightforward fight?  I will meet my enemies on my terms, not theirs.”

I lifted my chin again, making myself look smug and knowing.  And okay, yeah, deliberately channeling more than a little bit of Zhylvren, both because that would be familiar to this audience and because I’d learned from her that with the right piece of showmanship backing it up, that actually could look impressive rather than just obnoxious.

“I will take the shadows from beneath their feet.  Bandit gangs and urban crime syndicates will end as those on Dount already have: either kneeling before the Dark Lord, or wiped out and replaced by those who did.  I will find the countless sympathetic figures created by the cruelty and incompetence of the Sanorite regimes—the goblins, the beastfolk tribes.  The poor and abused, the neglected and abandoned.  The ignored, who will continue to be ignored even as they are silently gathered under my wing.  There will be no conquest, no armies, no confrontation. Bit by bit, the Dark Crusade will spread through the darkness where it belongs—through the tunnels underground, through the deep forests where the light elves and their subjects fear to tread, through the back alleys, dives, and dens hidden within their own cities.  One day Sanora’s people will wake up and find that I am everywhere, all around them.  That the Dark Lord owns their cities and countrysides, such that not one coin passes through anyone’s hands without my approval.  They will never know they’ve been conquered until it is over and done with.  And even then, I may never bother to tell them.  Who cares what banners fly over the battlements?  Once I can wield enough influence to make them stop being shitty to people, I’m perfectly content to let them have their pageantry and feel like they’re in charge.  I don’t need to sit on any thrones to alleviate the suffering of the oppressed, or punish those responsible for it.  It seems to be that sitting on thrones just tends to lead to more of that happening.”

I gave them another pause to consider; I could see from the assembled expressions that I was indeed getting through to them.

“So when I said I would meet my enemies on my terms, what I meant was: not at all.  Fuck ‘em.  I’m not gonna play their shitty games.  They will play mine.”

Silence reigned when I stopped.  I allowed it, giving them time to think.

“Huh,” the squirrel leader said at last.  He looked and sounded…well, flabbergasted.  “That…  That could work.”

He turned to Zhylvren, who was smiling.  She nodded deeply to him, once.  The chieftain slowly pivoted his head, sweeping his attention around the forest, taking time to meet the eyes of every one of his assembled people, taking in their expressions.  I kept my peace, recognizing the importance of this.  He needed certainty.

And by the time he finished and returned his attention to me, he had it.  I could see the outcome in his eyes.

“You have given us a satisfactory answer, Dark Lord,” he stated, raising his head and letting the solemn serenity of his authority settle over himself like a mantle.  “Thus, as we have discussed and agreed as one people, we give you ours.”

The chieftain knelt to one knee in the snow, his Seer instantly following suit.  All around, the rest of the assembled hunters did the same.

“And so we return to the fold, Yomiko’s heir,” he said.  “I, Naarosh, pledge myself and my people to your cause.  Once more we serve the Dark Crusade.”

At least something had gone right today.