Valkyrie's Shadow

Before the Storm: Act 7, Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I don’t get it.

Liam frowned at the men lining both sides of the table. A full third of them had passed out while the rest were somewhere between senseless and comatose. He eyed the liquor swirling in his cup – it was some sort of wine that tasted more like vinegar – wondering how the Eight Fingers managed to get anything done.

While he worked, they just followed him around, chatting, giving passers-by threatening looks, and even sleeping when they could get away with it. Once the day was over, they acted as if they had just done a hard day’s work, which was rewarded by a hearty meal and plenty of drink. Of course, this was only his second day with them, but they were so matter-of-fact about it that it had to be routine.

“I can’t believe you drank Francis’ gang under the table.”

He looked over his shoulder, finding a buxom blonde barmaid standing behind him. The pub had four such barmaids and none of the female staff were over twenty. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what happened to the ones who got too ‘old’.

“I’m pretty sure they did most of the drinking,” Liam said. “Sorry for the trouble, Claire.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all!” Claire offered him a brilliant smile, “Well, it’s more that this is pretty normal.”

Liam rose from his seat at the head of the table, disentangling Reed, who had attached himself to his ankle.

Claire’s smile wavered at his words.

“What do you mean by that, sir?”

“Um, how much do we need to pay?”

“That’s…j-just a moment.”

With a swirl of her shortened skirts, the barmaid disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she reemerged with the pub’s owner. The willowy man, who doubled as the establishment’s chef, kept wiping his hands on his stained apron as he made his way over. He then switched to dry washing his hands and his mouth seemed to be stuck twitching in a half-smile.

“Do you need a Cleric?” Liam asked.

“A…? Er, no. I…to make it clear, we’re not demanding that you pay in any way…”

Beside the owner, Claire tearfully nodded.

“I-I didn’t mean it, sir! Please…”

Wasn’t I the one that brought it up?

They were so desperately sincere that it made him doubt his memory. Groans rose from the table at the sudden outburst. Claire whimpered and hid behind the owner.

“Let’s take this conversation elsewhere,” Liam said.

The two were quick to take him up on his suggestion, leading him to a narrow hall between a stairwell and the kitchen. Liam waited for them to say something, but they wouldn’t even make eye contact with him.

“So, what’s this all about?” He asked.

“It’s nothing!” The owner said, “Nothing at all. Look, this is all a big mistake. We won’t ask again. Just don’t do anything. Please!”

“I’m going to get mad if you don’t answer my question.”

Claire and the owner exchanged a look. The barmaid let out a cry as the owner reached out and grabbed the base of her ponytail, forcing her head down.

“It’s this stupid girl’s fault!” The owner said, “She came in saying you wanted to pay.”

“I did.”

“She tricked you,” the owner said. “You and your friends don’t need to pay. Do what you want with her – just don’t burn down my pub!”

In no way, shape, or form did Liam imagine that trying to pay for food and drink would result in whatever the hell was happening in front of him. He grabbed the owner, squeezing his wrist to force his grip on the girl free.

“Don’t make a scene,” Liam said. “Doesn’t Claire work for you? Why are you treating her like this?”

“Why…? Alright, just take her.”

“Hah?”

The owner shoved Claire at him.

“Do whatever you want with her! Just leave me and my pub alone!”

Liam was left speechless as the owner fled into the kitchen. What did he hope to gain by running away? It wasn’t as if he could escape if Liam felt like chasing him. A ragged sob dragged his gaze from the kitchen entrance to the girl in front of him.

“Are you alright?” Liam asked.

Another sob. One of the men in the common room started making noise, so Liam ushered Claire out of the hallway and into the alley behind the pub. The girl visibly tensed, clutching her skirts tightly as darkness engulfed them. She stumbled as soon as they started moving away from the door. Liam reached out to take her by the hand, reminding himself that Humans normally didn’t have Darkvision.

“W-Wait,” Claire said, “it’s not safe for me tonight.”

“Don’t worry,” Liam said, “I’ll take care of you.”

His reassurances kept her quiet until they reached the end of the alley. There, Claire shrank away from dim light leaking from the bars and brothels along the street.

“Where are you taking me?” The barmaid asked.

“Your place, I guess?” Liam answered, “You probably don’t want to stay at work after what just happened.”

Claire nodded silently and slowly led him to the outskirts of Beaumont. The night’s overcast skies lent little in the way of light. Eventually, Claire stopped again.

“It’s too dark,” she said. “My lamp’s still at the pub.”

“Hold on,” Liam told her.

He reached into one of the pouches on his belt and pulled out a magic light. The crystal sphere only had two settings – ‘off’ and ‘too bright’ – so he wrapped it up in a sheet of paper before activating it. Claire stared, wide-eyed, at the magic item in his palm.

“We can talk when we get to your place,” Liam said. “Do you know where we are?”

Claire looked around for a moment before nodding. Liam followed her as she picked her way through the muddy lanes between the wooden dwellings crammed below the town’s walls. They stopped at a set of buildings a few dozen metres from the town’s western gate.

“This way,” Claire said.

She stepped into an alley that could barely be called one. It eventually opened up into a well-kept garden surrounding an old well. Ironically, someone had put in the effort to lay large cobblestones on the pathways, making the lightly travelled section of alleyway the only place Liam had seen in Beaumont that was somewhat paved.

Claire knocked lightly on one of the doors surrounding the urban garden. A few seconds later, it opened a crack. The middle-aged woman within looked from Claire to Liam.

“He wanted to use the house, mother,” Claire said.

“I see,” Claire’s mother replied. “I’ll prepare a bath for our guest.”

“It’s alright,” Liam said. “I don’t need one.”

“Then I’ll wait outside.”

“Why?”

The two women froze at his question. Several seconds passed before Claire’s mother fully opened the door. Liam examined the building’s interior as Claire led him inside.

Like most dwellings in Re-Estize’s towns, Claire’s home consisted of a single common room that measured less than five metres to a side. He and Saye had lived in one such dwelling back before their mother had abandoned them. A sparingly-fuelled fire pit occupied the centre of the floor, offering little in the way of light and warmth. Efforts to insulate the room with straw and scrap materials had been made, but the cold and damp still seemed to seep in from everywhere. A single wooden table with two stools sat under the home’s only window, which faced the alley they had entered from.

“My bed is over here.”

Liam turned to find that Claire had shrugged off her kirtle and was fumbling with the buttons of her blouse. He reached out and grasped her trembling hands.

“Stop,” he told her. “I’m not here for that.”

He sighed at her uncomprehending stare.

“I just wanted to ask some questions,” Liam said. “Most of what I know about this territory comes from those guys that I was with. A lot of it was hard to believe.”

Liam released Claire’s hand and turned away. He scanned the house one more time before placing his magical light beside the fire pit, and then he pulled out a heating hoop. Warmth rapidly suffused the room once he activated it. Claire’s mother looked around in wonder.

“Claire,” she asked, “who is this young man?”

“His name is Liam,” Claire answered. “He’s a Wizard from the Eight Fingers.”

“I’m a what?”

“Y-You’re not? But you’re casting magic.”

He had learned a few spells as an Assassin, but saying so would probably cause more confusion.

“I’m using magic items,” Liam said. “These two here, anyone can use. Want to try?”

Claire and her mother violently shook their heads. He should have expected that response from two denizens of Re-Estize – especially since he had been one until just recently. Magic in the Kingdom was only available to an exclusive few and the government as a whole did little to promote its growth. As a result, the common sense surrounding magic was founded upon ignorance, rumours, and superstition.

Liam cleared his throat.

“Anyways,” he said, “I’m not a Wizard and I’m not a member of the Eight Fingers.”

“Then what are you doing with them?” Claire asked.

“They, um…volunteered to show me around. I don’t think I’m getting the whole story, though. Too many things don’t make sense.”

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“But why ask us?” Claire sat down on her straw mattress, “We’re nobodies.”

“You live here,” Liam replied. “I want to know what you know.”

Claire’s mother pulled out one of the stools, gesturing for Liam to take a seat.

“You seem like a nice young man,” she said, “but what will you do with what we say? Knowing things can be dangerous.”

“I don’t intend to tell the Eight Fingers if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“What about the Nobles?”

“This information isn’t for anyone around here,” Liam said. “If anything, it’ll go towards improving things in time.”

Claire and her mother still appeared hesitant to cooperate. Unable to think of another way to convince them, he placed two silver trade coins on the table. Claire’s mother sucked in a breath.

“Money is dangerous,” she said.

Liam silently conceded that it could be dangerous, but it wasn’t as if he was offering platinum coins. Going by what he saw of the local prices, two silver trade coins could probably sustain a family in Beaumont for two weeks.

“Does that have something to do with what got you in trouble at the pub? Liam asked.

“No,” Claire shook her head, “that was because the Eight Fingers don’t pay. They eat, drink, and sleep wherever they want. For free. The last place that defied them got burnt down. Everyone that worked there was killed and the owner was impaled on top of the rubble of his business.”

“Does this happen to the other businesses in town, as well?”

“It’s all the same for everyone. There’s a ‘protection fee’, too. For a house like ours, it’s a silver a season.”

“What about the Guilds?” Liam asked, “I doubt they’d take this lying down.”

Claire’s mother let out a bitter laugh.

“The Guilds? The Guilds were run out of town before I was born. If I remember correctly, my mother said that the Guilds tried to resist by hiring mercenaries, but the mercenaries were killed and half of the town’s artisans were slaughtered in retaliation.”

“What about the Nobles?”

“What about them?” Claire’s mother snorted, “They’re just as helpless as the Guilds. The Eight Fingers are parasites. Everything that they do comes at someone else’s cost. You either learn to live with them around here, or you don’t live at all.”

Liam shook his head as he recorded the woman’s words. Trained as he was by Ijaniya, he knew all too well that it was easier to attack than defend. Unscrupulous organisations like the Eight Fingers had no desire to be competitive and showed no interest in self-improvement: they simply cut everyone down to a level where they could rule through fear and brute force. It didn’t matter how much was lost so long as they stood on top. Re-Estize’s most powerful individuals tended to become Adventurers, so the Kingdom was essentially doomed to be eaten from the inside out without foreign intervention.

“Have you noticed any changes in behaviour from the Eight Fingers recently?” Liam asked.

“Not really,” Claire said. “It’s been the same people doing the same things until you arrived. You said just now that things might improve…is that true?”

“I can’t see how it could get any worse,” Liam replied. “I wouldn’t expect things to change right away though. One more thing: do you know much about the local mines?”

“I don’t know much about mining,” Claire said, “My father works in the mines, but he only comes back once or twice a year.”

“If that’s the case,” Liam said, “why not move to the settlement where he works?”

“Because there’s barely any work for women up there,” Claire’s mother said. “Here in town, we can at least make ends meet. Also, my husband not being around makes it…convenient for some of what we need to do.”

“I see,” Liam said. “Well, I think that’s about all I wanted to ask. Thanks for helping me out.”

He rose from his seat, leaving the two silver trade coins on the table. After a bit of thought, he added a third. He didn’t have anything against prostitution, but Claire was far too young. The money he left with her would help keep her out of it for a while.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay the night?” Claire asked.

Alarms sounded off in Liam’s head. The girl’s initially fearful tone had turned into a hopeful one that he was all too familiar with. What had he done to deserve it? Was it the money? Maybe mixing money with women led to problems.

“Sorry,” Liam said, “I got work to do.”

He gathered his things and hurried out the door, climbing to the rooftops before checking for tails. After waiting for a while for someone to enter his Darkvision range, he decided he had gotten away clean. Aside from Olin, none of the Eight Fingers’ men seemed to carry magic items, never mind equipment that enhanced their senses.

Now, where to next…

With his mission having him cover a huge amount of territory, the time he had to gather information was relatively limited. Granted, his mission only required him to note the condition of Re-Estize’s infrastructure and logistics, but Countess Wagner and Countess Corelyn told him that understanding the inner workings of what he saw was just as important if not more so. The information that he gathered would be crucial to improving the area once the Sorcerous Kingdom took over.

The local Nobles should have had a better grasp of the big picture, but the available prospects didn’t seem very promising. They wandered around the town centre, boasting between themselves, harassing the citizenry, and drinking the surrounding establishments dry. Olin also said that they were being isolated to keep them from wreaking havoc with their antics, so any information that he did end up pulling out of them had a good chance of being skewed to the point of uselessness.

Watching their drunken carousing in the streets from the rooftops didn’t help improve Liam’s opinion. He crossed his arms, staring across the rooftops as he considered his options.

Wait, I don’t need to see any Nobles at all, do I?

If he wanted information on territorial operations, all he had to do was sneak into the local manor, grab their records, and send them to the Sorcerous Kingdom to be analysed by experts. He was no good at deciphering that stuff anyway and dealing with the Nobles in the area seemed way too annoying.

Shouts and jeers rose from below as two groups of retainers started a brawl in the middle of the street. Never mind annoying, he didn’t think he would be able to get any work done with them at all.

His mind made up, Liam left the commotion behind him, crossing over the rooftops on his way to Beaumont Manor. The estate has its own little section of the town that was walled off from the common district, effectively turning it into a modest castle. Unlike other estates he had visited in the past, however, this one was in a dire state of disrepair.

The castle grounds were overgrown and its buildings looked like they hadn’t seen any cleaning or maintenance for several seasons. Scattered groups of men acted as security, but they bore no discernible livery. He could only assume that the Eight Fingers had taken the place over to use as a base.

Their security is full of holes, though…

Liam made it into the estate without so much as a glance in his direction. Once he marked where all of the sentries were positioned, he made his way toward the large manor at the centre of the grounds. After looking through several dusty windows, he found a room lined with bookshelves. Flickering candlelight flowing from an unseen corner gave him pause, causing him to wait and observe its occupants.

A few minutes passed with no movement on the inside, so Liam worked open the window latch and waited again. Again, there was no movement. Whoever was inside was oblivious enough to not notice the cold autumn air flowing in. He lifted himself onto the windowsill and carefully poked his head inside. The source of the candlelight was further away than he thought: a table at the end of a long row of bookshelves with a single figure hunched over it. He shut the window behind him and padded out of sight.

The first bookshelf wasn’t as well-stocked as he imagined a library in a Count’s manor would be. Neither was the one opposite to it. He picked up a string-bound book and flipped through the pages.

Poetry?

He wasn’t a Bard like his sister, but even he could tell that it wasn’t very good. The next few books were much the same. What were the chances that the entire library was filled with bad poetry? Maybe the Nobles here encoded their records.

The thought followed him as he crept over to the next set of bookshelves. He went over journals of hunting trips in the Manticore Mountains, accounts of travels to other parts of Re-Estize, and one trip to Arwintar. Most of the content focused on local art, music, and architecture, which was of little practical use to him.

At least they’re records. Maybe the next row will have what I’m looking for.

The next row of bookshelves turned out to be completely empty. Did they keep important records in another room? Just to be sure, he went to the table at the other end of the room to see what the figure was up to. Several stacks of books framed a tabletop strewn with documents. The figure turned out to be a young Noblewoman wrapped up in several blankets. He could only assume that she was the Countess of Beaumont.

Liam took a book from the table, immediately finding what he was looking for. He went through several more, which all turned out to be one sort of administrative record or the other. How many could he take before the Noblewoman noticed that books were disappearing in front of her?

“This is impossible,” the Noblewoman moaned.

A tear trickled down the Countess’ cheek. Liam leaned in to see what she was crying over. She blinked up at him with a gasp.

“Shoooo…”

The Noblewoman made a weird sort of deflating sound as she fainted. She slid right out of her chair and smacked her head on the hardwood floor.

“Ow!”

Countess Beaumont rolled around on the floor, clutching the back of her head. Her layers of blankets came loose, revealing a slender figure in a somewhat plain nightgown. As far as Noblewomen went, she had average looks…which was to say that most women couldn’t hope to compete with her.

“Are you alright?” Liam asked.

“It hurts,” Countess Beaumont cried. “I was trying to faint, but then this stupid floor hit me on the head!”

“Right…I’ll be going now.”

“Wait! Who are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you among those ruffians loitering in my estate.”

Liam considered his answer. He didn’t want to deal with the local Nobles because they all seemed useless, but Countess Beaumont looked like she was actually hard at work.

“My name is Liam,” he said as he held out a hand to her. “I’m an official from the Sorcerous Kingdom.”

“The Sorc…do you mean to say that Lady Albedo sent you? But…but it’s too soon! I haven’t had the chance to do anything yet! I didn’t know it was like this! I don’t want to dieeeeee…”

The Noblewoman grew increasingly frantic as she spoke, breaking down into tears at the end. She sobbed pitifully, hiding her face in her hands.

“Um, I’m not here to kill you,” Liam said.

“But why else would they send an Assassin?”

“I was sent to inspect a few things in the Azerlisian Marches,” Liam said.

“…you didn’t deny that you’re an Assassin.”

“Look, I need to collect some information and I figured you could help. Can you?”

Countess Beaumont lowered her hands and turned her eyes up at him.

“I can’t promise anything, but I can try. In exchange…could you please tell Lady Albedo that I didn’t know things had become like this? I’m trying my best – I truly am!”

“You keep repeating yourself,” Liam said. “What are you panicking over?”

“The…the…everything!” The Countess shrieked, “House Beaumont is ruined. Our fief is impoverished! My vassals are useless! I never knew about any of this.”

“But this is your territory,” Liam said. “How could you not notice what’s been going on?”

“I lived with my mother at our manor in Re-Blumrushur. My lord father never mentioned that we were experiencing any difficulties, financial or otherwise! He always told me not to worry about the demesne and to keep refining myself for my fiancée. I got whatever I needed, so I never once doubted him. It wasn’t until the title fell to me and I arrived in the summer that I started to uncover the truth!”

Liam scratched his head as the Countess presented her predicament. He didn’t know enough about Nobles to decide whether she should share the blame for her family’s failures or not. By her account, she was purposely kept ignorant of her family’s troubles. Additionally, she had been kept far away from those troubles, unable to discern the truth for herself.

“Do you have any siblings?” Liam asked.

“My brother fell in battle alongside my father,” the Countess answered. “We weren’t close. He left to serve as a page around the same time that I was born and only returned once a year to be seen with our lord father during the war with the Empire.”

“I see. Then what do you plan to do now?”

Countess Beaumont snorted, her voice laden with bitter frustration as she replied.

“What can I do? It’s an impossible situation, I tell you.”

“Well, what were you doing just now?”

“Trying to locate funds to hire Adventurers,” the Countess replied. “Winter is coming. The wildlife is moving down into the valleys and the things that prey upon it will surely come as well. House Beaumont needs to come up with a budget to contract security services, but we don’t even have enough for a single Copper-rank commission. We can’t even defend ourselves for a day, never mind an entire season. Never mind being ruined, we’ll just all be eaten!”

“Are you sure about that?” Liam asked.

“What? Of course I’m sure. They’re called the Manticore Mountains for a reason. Those monsters will paralyse our iron shipments and what’s left of the economy will collapse. Without the assistance of Adventurers, the mountain tribes will drive us from our homes. We have no other way to prevent this.”

“Doesn’t Re-Estize have some sort of subsidy for this sort of thing?”

“Counts and above don’t qualify,” the young Noblewoman replied. “We’re supposed to be prosperous enough to secure our fiefs and those of our vassals.”

“Isn’t House Blumrush charged with a similar obligation?”

“On paper, they are,” the Countess replied. “In practice…Liam, you seem like an honest man. That’s a rarity in the Azerlisian Marches. Knowing House Blumrush, what will probably happen is they’ll allow this county to collapse and then use it as evidence that House Beaumont isn’t fit to rule. Only after I’m stripped of my titles will they send Adventurers to clear out the territory, and then House Blumrush will claim the land for itself.”

“Huh,” Liam said. “That sucks. Well, you won’t have to worry about that. There’s another way to do this.”

It seemed that she didn’t know what the Eight Fingers were doing up in her territory’s mines. Countess Beaumont reached up to grasp Liam’s hands, fluttering her eyelashes up at him prettily. The loose neckline of her nightgown offered him an eyeful of her budding cleavage.

“Don’t keep me in suspense, dear Liam,” she breathed.

Liam shook his hands free and took a step back, turning his attention to the books on the table.

“Uh, you’re going to have to hold onto that thought,” he said. “I have to check with my superiors to see what I’m allowed to do.”

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