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An Unequal Share [A Dark, Progression Fantasy]
33. Among the Better Sort Chapter 4

33. Among the Better Sort Chapter 4

The soldiers took a few minutes to deliberate, before three of them stepped forward and took up triangle point positions around her. They were all very young, and none of them could disguise the fact that they had only started training. One looked cocksure, but the other two appeared very nervous.

Vero continued her lecture, while they readied themselves. “When fighting a group, it’s important to understand the composition of your opponents. A vampyre may form a cult of adherents. But if the cultists are all peasant farmers, then their numbers will be counter balanced by their lack of skill.”

Then, the moment she had finished, Vero threw herself backwards with a wide swinging blow at one of the nervous boys. The attack startled him, but he retained enough presence of mind to block her strike. In doing so, however, he obscured his own vision with his shield. Vero did not stop, but spun off her momentum to change her angle and move behind him, where she stabbed her dagger roughly into his liver.

The confident man saw his chance and rushed her. Vero sent her first victim forward with a kick to the backside, which sent him tumbling into her next attacker and knocked both of them to the ground. Then she turned on her last enemy, who dropped his weapon and held up a hand to yield at once when she gave him a fierce look.

Vero returned to her starting point and let the others right themselves to reassume their positions. A pair of more seasoned looking men drifted out of the audience to join them.

“Without a definite plan, a group makes men hesitate, since they are constantly aware and always taking consideration for their companions. One can take advantage of this through rapid and unhesitating action. Strike as fast as possible, and as hard as possible, until you no longer face a group. Don’t hold anything back, because a group only needs you to make one mistake. The longer a fight goes on, the more it plays to their advantage.”

Again, the moment she was finished speaking she lunged towards the same novice again. This time he was ready. Seeing her come at him, he made a stumbling leap backwards. He stayed out of her reach, but was momentarily distracted while he tried to find his footing once again.

Vero had already stopped her feint and turned back the other way, where one of the veterans was making ready to take advantage if she tried the same tactics again. She ducked low, and used the flat of her sword to bring up a cloud of the soft sand which cushioned falls in the ring into his face as he advanced.

The other veteran had initially positioned himself on the opposite side from his partner. He must have suspected that she wanted him to act rashly, because rather than attack, he circled around her with careful and conservative movements to keep on his guard. He interposed himself between her and his comrade, who was desperately trying to rub the sand from his eyes. With three of the soldiers out of their original positions, a way out had formed between them.

Vero took it.

She sprinted towards the fence surrounding the training ground and bounded over it in a single fluid leap. Everyone watched in astonishment as she slowly circled around towards the stands, except for the Marquise, who was beaming with delight.

Ser Henri’s expression was colder. “Your secret techniques include throwing sand in a man’s face and running away?”

“I know knights have idealized the notion of a ritualized duel between equals. But in reality, even if two utterly equal combatants – which don’t actually exist – met in battle… then it would be nothing but a coin flip. And in that case, their dispute would be more sensibly settled that way. Fighting fair is only for sport. In battle, one is either advantaged, or disadvantaged. Deliberately restraining yourself, for any reason, is courting the Veiled One. And one person defeating multiple skilled opponents at once is impossible. Only a fool remains in a fight she can’t win.”

“Watch this one carefully. She’s smarter than you,” Frederic remarked glibly.

Vero had not noticed him watching before.

The spymaster sat behind the Marquise and her maids, with the wizard Aeolus. “His lordship has requested our presence in the council chamber at once.”

The marshal started off towards them. Frederic continued to stare at Vero while she stood where she was.

She was not sure why he was watching her until he added: “Oh, perhaps I was unclear. I meant you as well, my Lady. My apologies.”

Vero followed them.

They ascended the tower towards the council chamber. Aeolus dropped back to walk alongside her, and ply her with questions about what she supposed to be the anthropological origins of her order’s unique fighting style.

The council chamber was a large circular room which took up the whole of the tower’s second highest level. One had to go up through the floor beneath, and pass through the chapel there, to reach it. The chapel housed a large altar to King Helios with vessels of gold, and along with it was a smaller shrine to Queen Luna.

The gods won’t help you when a beast’s claws are at your throat.

Her master always held a great disdain for religion, and would chastise her any time he caught her offering earnest prayers. Like many thaumaturgists, he considered the gods only to be the source of arcane emanations, and paid them no mind when he was not weaving a spell.

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Each of the men queued up to genuflect beneath the sun altar before continuing further up. As she would need to wait for them, Vero decided to take the opportunity to recite some prayers she learned from Mama's prayer book.

The moon shrine was consecrated to the Matron, but she hoped that Mother Luna could still hear her.

“How dare you appear before the Queen of the Gods in men’s clothing, harlot!” Father Ignacio was red faced with rage, and bellowed at the top of his lungs from the doorway.

The other councilors looked taken aback. However, as Ignacio attempted to advance on her, only Ser Henri had the presence of mind to place himself between them.

“That’s a particularly unpleasant way to greet your lord’s mistress.” Frederic offered his insight from well off to the side of the conflict.

“My Lord,” the priest began, vehemently slapping his chest, “is the Lord. The Lord of Light, the Lord of Everything! And the Marquis should never have taken any mistress in the first place- let alone an apostate!”

By this time, Jean had come into the chamber himself. Father Ignacio seamlessly redirected his tirade towards him.

“I refuse to attend any council which allows a woman to be present- especially a witch!”

Jean refused to flinch. “You will be silent this instant, or I’ll find a new god whose priests know how to show respect to their patrons.”

“I served here under your father, whelp! Your family have worshiped the sun for-”

“My mother often complained how you served under my father. I have been tolerant of you for many months, but do not believe for one moment that your grief at his passing is greater than that of his own son! Or that it entitles you to behave however you wish! My dearly departed sire is dead, the only deity that matters to him any longer is the Veiled One. Now, get out!”

Father Ignacio began to sputter ineffectually. “You- you have no right-”

“I own this land! I have every right! Go back to your bishop! Explain to him how you’ll make up the short fall from my house’s tithes!”

Ignacio was stunned into silence, but then he pointed towards Vero again. “This vile demoness will lead you into nothing but misfortune!” With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out.

The others began to slowly go up into the council chamber. Jean remained behind with her, and Vero still was not quite sure what had happened.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t do anything to antagonize him.”

He gave her a disarming smile and a kiss. “I know you didn’t. He’s been almost intolerable since my father passed on. I’ve warned him many times that I would remove him if he could not carry out his duties to my satisfaction. This is as convenient a time as any.”

“Won’t this cause trouble?”

“How could it? Is a son responsible for supporting his deceased father’s male favorites? The bishop will send me a new chaplain with a letter of apology, or he won’t. I only ever pray to the gods of war and health anyway. Let him speak ill of me, if he will.”

Jean took her by the arm and led her up into the council chamber, where he brought her to a seat beside himself, at the head of the table. The three council members she came with were joined by the chancellor, the steward, and the sheriff.

Ser Renaud, began the meeting. “Will the chaplain be joining us?”

Beneath the table Jean kept a hand on Vero’s knee, but his face was serious. “I have removed Father Ignacio from his position. Our chief scholar will be forced to advise us on both theosophistry as well as the arcane until a new chaplain arrives.”

Aeolus had been beaming with satisfaction since Jean chastised the priest. Although he tried to look serious when Jean informed him of his new duties, and nodded gravely.

Jean turned to Ser Renaud. “Please give your report.”

“Very well.” He stood up. “Several of our vassals have fallen ill this winter. This is not in itself unusual, of course. However, the number and severity of these incapacitations is both large, and growing. It now begins to pose a definite threat to our security. To date an earl, and over almost a dozen landed knights have died. Many more are so ill they are confined to bed. Through a consultation with my colleague,” he motioned to Aeolus sitting beside him, “we found that everywhere these illnesses seemed to follow in the wake of my Lord’s train. The sicknesses are far too precise to be a chance pandemic. There have been no cases at all reported among the lower classes.”

“You believe a member of the retinue to be a maleficar?” Mattias asked.

Ser Renaud nodded. “Aeolus – and the departed Father Ignacio – examined some of the most deceased victims before they were given to the crows. They found traces of a slow acting poison residing in the internal organs-”

“The liver and the kidneys, in particular,” Aeolus elucidated.

“Using this knowledge we have begun to treat the ill, but the poisoner must be identified.”

“I’ll have my men begin a search of everyone’s rooms immediately.” Mattias rose, presumably to put his stated plan into action, but he was brought up short by the clicking tongue of Aeolus.

“And I suppose you know what to look for to identify a maleficar?” When the sheriff did not reply, Aeolus continued, “If you begin charging around like a wild bull then you’ll only make the task that much harder.”

“Then what do you propose?” Ser Henri asked, in his usual chilled baritone.

Jean cleared his throat to bring the council’s attention back onto himself. “I have decided to request the services of a professional. Vero?”

Jean squeezed her leg and everyone in the room turned to look at her.

“Are you asking me?”

“I am. Slayers hunt witches, you know how to recognize the signs of black magic even if they’re well hidden.”

Vero cleared her own throat, although she was only concerned with making certain her voice did not crack.

“If there were a witch present – I mean a true witch, not a colloquial insult – I’m sure we would all be aware of it by now. It sounds as though this is the work of an alchemist turned assassin. Although a magus may use his powers for evil, he – or she – still remains a human. At least until they have bargained their soul away to a fiend. This may still be the work of a real witch… but if it is a mundane poisoning using only natural magic, then I’m forbidden from becoming involved. The code of my order prevents me from becoming engaged in politics or law enforcement, for any reason. I could… perhaps, assist you in the identification of the culprit… but only to determine for certain if they are a witch or not. I would break my oath if I took a contract on a human.”

“Of course, I would not ask you to violate any binding oaths.” Jean turned to Mattias. “Are your men competent to subdue this man if he is simply a rogue alchemist?”

“Unquestionably. If the Lady Veronique can find him, we can put him to ground.”

“It’s settled then, you’ll work together. I’m putting the Lady Veronique in charge of this investigation, and I expect each of you to offer her your full support with whatever she may need.”