52. Contagion (Patreon)

Yet another interlude, but please don't skip them if you want a cohesive reading. Alas, I can't control your actions.

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“What do you mean the plague has spread?” Hassan shouted, tapping his foot on the ground. The sheer force prompted him to squint his eyes.

He had taken his time to arrive in Sadina as his broken leg had taken a while to fix, even with Nurture. Aaliyah-al-Ydaz had applied something to her attack, a broken leg would be painful but easy to fix for a cultivator of Hassan’s level. But after a week, his leg still hurt even if it was technically fixed.

“Didn’t I tell you to exile those refugees if they presented a problem?”

“T-the contagion started with our own citizens, my Emir.” Dana, his noblewoman scribe, explained as she trembled in fear.

“And what?” Hassan cried, his voice lingering with vitality. “I made clear that I didn’t want a plague to scourge my city, didn’t I?”

“Y-yes, my Emir.” The noblewoman appeared smaller and smaller by the second.

“What did my useless sister do? She’s the one in command, in my absence.”

“The first cases had just started to appear yesterday, a quarantine has been put into effect by the university by the order of the sultanzade to minimize the damages, but nothing much could be done in such a short span of time.”

“I don’t care about what we couldn’t do, I want to hear what can be done. I will tolerate no mistakes!” Nor can I afford any. “Where even is my sister?”

“She’s with scribe Ayad, planning the repurposing of lands for drug production, my Emir.”

They are still with that? I must stop them yesterday. “Bring them to me at once!”

“Y-yes, my Emir!” Dana rushed out of the room in distress.

This is bad, bad. A plague is awful! If this grows out of proportion, the sultanah will not hesitate to make me out! Hassan tapped with his foot on the ground, yet again sending shivers of pain up his spine.

“Urgh!” He grunted, hiding his pain.

What did she do? This is not normal! She must have altered my flow of vitality when she broke my leg, but I didn’t detect anything... This must be some art I do not know of... I need to find out what she did to me if I want to erase this phantom pain.

“Did you summon me, my dear brother?” Rani called out, snapping Hassan out of his thoughts.

The imperial princess wore skimp clothing and held her head high up. Behind her, the common folk scribe shyly followed her behind, her clothing disordered.

“Yes,” Hassan responded starkly. “Mind you telling me how a plague has ravaged my city in my absence? And under your care?”

“My, my brother. You are but exaggerating.” Rani calmly walked toward him, not a shed of fear on her person. “Granted, there have been a few infections here and there, but nothing to raise alarms over. I can assure you that the situation is under control.”

“Dana has stated otherwise.” Hassan frowned. More annoyed at his sister’s – his underling’s – lack of respect rather than her answers.

“Oh, that courtesan?” She stated, clearly not entailing the polite meaning of the word. “Plagues are not part of her work... or affairs.” Yet more double meanings. “I would leave healthcare affairs to Nuha. The university has not been exactly useful, but she’s still a knowledgeable scholar. And after talking the plague subject in great... detail with her I can assure you that the situation is resolved.”

The glint in Rani’s eyes hinted Hassan otherwise. She’s scheming something, I can feel it. But what? Her sister was an insidious critter, not the best cultivator in the family, but she wielded the quill far better than the sword. Or poison, to be more accurate.

“I care not for words, but actions,” Hassan responded. “I better not hear more about this plague in the coming days, otherwise...”

“Otherwise what, my esteemed brother?” Rani smiled, cunningly swaying her hips around. Her tactic was not that dissimilar from Aaliyah-al-Ydaz, but whilst that formed part of the sultanah’s inherent charm, it was obvious that Rani’s was fabricated. It was impossible to replicate the charisma of the sultanah after all. “What would you do if I were to fail?”

Hassan stood silent for a moment, perplexed at his sister’s audacity. She was, unfortunately, right. She could do nothing to her. Rani had been appointed in her position by the very sultanah, and whilst in other circumstances Aaliyah-al-Ydaz would not have cared if siblings killed each other, Hassan was now in her sights. If he were to put a cease to Rani’s light, then the sultanah may take it as a slight.

“You wouldn’t like to know,” Hassan added in a non-committing manner.

“Oh, please. Do tell~” Rani said smugly. “I am quite the curious person. Don’t be cheap with the details. I want to hear. It. All.”

“Do not push your luck.” The emir warned.

The paltry cultivator, unphased by threats, approached him. Her body danced around like a silk cloth on the wind and subtlety grazed Hassan’s leg. A gesture that went unnoticed by the other bystanders in the room but a clear message to him. She knows.

“Please take care, precious brother,” Rani called out as she displayed her naked back to him. “The city is quite in turmoil, so you should linger down your anger and think with a clear head.” She turned her head graciously, her smile a radiant flash. “For once.”

It took all of Hassan’s willpower to not pounce on her sister and slam her to the ground, finally snuffing out the life out of her. But he couldn’t. He was playing her sister’s game now, and whilst that would mean her defeat, it would also spell his. The only possible outcome was to win the game.

Whichever that was.

“And put a stop to this drug cultivation nonsense,” Hassan added before the scribes left the room.

“But of course.” Rani smiled at him and swiftly vanished from his sight.

*

“Are you sure about... that?” Sweet Shahrazad asked once they returned to her office, but now there were far more members inside. The scribe may be in her forties by now, but she looked as feeble as a hare.

“Quite,” Rani responded satisfactorily as she sat on a mound of pillows. “My brother deems himself an intellectual and a strongman, superior to everyone but the sultanah. That lifestyle is flawed, even if he does not notice so. And his sights even more skewed.”

“So, what are going to do now?” Tamara asked, she sat in the corner. Her seat was a simple wooden chair, but a comfortable one. Rani wouldn’t have it otherwise. “A wrong step and you won’t be only wronging the emir, but the whole sultanate.” The merchant rested with a ledger on her hand, she gave it a few looks as they talked.

“If you are worried about Aaliyah, don’t.” In the few days since the gatherings started, the scribes had become used to the sultanzade’s blasphemy, so no one reacted. At least, strongly. “My contacts in Asina’s palace have informed me of the sultanah’s mood. She’s dissatisfied with the emir, to say the least. If we show her his incompetence, she won’t even doubt our implication.”

“What about the plague’s spread, though?” Nuha added. A normal person would have inquired about that from a humanitarian perspective but not her. Her point of view was more... academic. “You must be aware that the outrage and economic consequences will be great. Unrest is never productive.”

“Well, yes.” Rani conceded. “But it isn’t like we bolstered its spread. I think we did a great job halting its spread. Even if we fail to convince Aaliyah of Hassan’s incompetence, we can convince her of our competence. Which brings me to our failsafe.”

The princess jumped out of her comfortable position, her breasts almost spilling out of the thin fabric covering them with the sudden movement.

“Reports, girls!” She clapped. “I want numbers, and positive ones at that. We must make this city better in order to make it ours. I cannot tolerate male incompetence to guide us, so we must be superior. I don’t want to see any weakness. Nuha, you deal with the plague. See if it's curable and study its spread. Even if we cannot stop it, we can direct it to our own benefit.”

“I doubt we can do neither of those. Otherwise, one of your kind would have fixed it already.” Nuha added calmly, the woman knew more about the arts than she let out. “But I’ll try my best.”

The scholar was the easiest of the scribes to convince, and the one who held the most power, except Rani herself that is. Nuha was the court’s figurehead of the university, an important professor with great connections. Winning over her was winning over most of the university, and it wasn’t a small faction like her brother made it out to be.

“Tamara, watch out for the flow of money. We are far from a recession, but rumors of a plague will drive traders away. For now, the flow of information is closed, only the university and the courts know that the plague is festering the city. Work your magic with the propaganda.”

“Understood.” A single word and the merchant made her way out of the room.

Tamara was only interested in money; ethical questions be damned. She had a lot to win if Rani came into power. And also to lose, but people like her had a scapegoat or two. After all, Rani did too.

“What about me, my princess?” Shahrazad asked shyly, the last scribe of the group and the one who held the least power.

Dana, the noblewoman was obviously left out. That woman was little than a lap dog, a bitch in heat awaiting the orders of her master to spread her legs. Including her in their meetings would have only been a breach of secrecy.

Shahrazad was mundane if it weren’t because she represented the power of the common folk in the court. It didn’t matter that was her who held the position of court scribe, though. Anyone would matter.

And it wasn’t like she was exactly in favor of the plan. Maybe the smallest member of the group, but the one with greater ethical codes. A peon stuck in a game, not a person striving for power.

“Oh right...” Rani wasn’t that opposed to having her around. The world needed peons to work, especially competent ones. “Stay with me, I need to check some documents.”

Rani was rather hungry as of late, and she loved hare.