“I therefore recommend the following alterations to the Commonwealths Parliament, in order that the people of Carfane be adequately represented in the Commonwealth.
1. The dividing of Carfane into forty Counties, rather than the three at present, thus allowing representation equal to their populace. Carfane has an eight of the populace of Genia proper; thus, it should have an eight of the elected Members of Parliament.
2. The appointment of the most wealthy and worthy of the Carfani Gentry as peers proper.
3. The withdrawal of the occupation of Trackford, and these
4. If these were done, the other grievances would surely be dealt with in short order, since the people of Carfane would be properly represented.
However, the Commonwealth will never do this, for it would eliminate the great revenues they draw, and the forces of savage wyverns they use in their armies. So we must convene, to decide whether to resolve these issues with the ballot or the bullet; the pamphlet or the pollaxe”
Mato Calwere, “The Resolution for the Carfani Peninsular Conference”
Hans Draiger, 20 September 1582 AAA. Kasilisk.
Kasilisk was the biggest city Hans had ever seen, not that he had seen many cities. Compared to Trackford’s haphazard streets, Kasilisk’s were neat and efficient, dividing the city into regular blocks. Even the farmland on the city’s outskirts was squared off by stone fences. Tall stone buildings dominated the cityscape; alongside a forest of masts and spars from the riverfront. Unlike most cities, Kasilisk had no walls, not even in the city centre. Before Halidon’s hill they’d never needed them. After that, they’d boasted that the cities walls were its people.
The coach came down into the city streets, muddy from melting snow. People swarmed all around them, on horse and foot, alongside coaches and wagons clogging the street. Uln got a few stares-Hans guessed Woose weren’t common around these parts-but other than that, they attracted no notice, despite the fact that they were riding on the back of the coach, with muskets and spears stowed. They moved through the streets towards the house of Corentin O Mathuna, cousin to Eidre and a powerful man in his own right. They soon found it. It was a tall sandstone townhouse, with large glass windows that looked like an invitation to be smashed by hail to Han’s eyes.
One of the servants, Rhys, dismounted and knocked on the door.
A tall, corpulent man answered, dressed in what looked to Draiger like the most expensive corpcoat he’d ever seen.
“Fancy seeing you out here this time of year!”
Eidre swung herself down from horseback, one hand shooting out to steady her rapier. She was dressed in her old cavalry gear-buff coat, breeches, boots, broad brimmed hat.
“Well, I wanted to get out here for the conference early. You see, some people want to be fashionably late. I, on the other hand, want to start a trend for being fashionably early”
Corentin threw back his head and laughed. It drew more than one concerned look from passer-by’s.
“Good enough reasoning, I’d say. How about we get out of this cold?”
Eidre nodded. Hans slipped down from his position on the front of the coach, then extended a hand for Uln as she clambered down.
“You have an odd taste in retainers” Corentin said.
Eidre laughed. “Those two aren’t members of my household. Fashion isn’t the only reason I’m out here”
Corentin’s face became more serious. “And what reasons would those be?”
“Not out here” Eidre said, her voice dropping.
Corentin nodded, and turned to walk inside, Eidre and Aled following.
Hans and Uln stayed outside to help the servants unload the coach and stable the horses.
By the time that was done, Corentin, Aled, Eidre, and Corentin’s wife-a tall, skinny, pale women who looked the exact opposite of Uln in every way imaginable-were seated in the townhouse’s drawing room, with Corentin cheerfully explaning his latest business dealings-apparently, investing in a joint venture to fund a mercantile expedition to northern Ylundu.
One of the servants offered him and Uln a chair, without saying a word.
Hans sat down. He felt rather self conscious, sitting in a cheap coat and the only pair of breeches he’d brought. Uln was dressed in another doublet, and skirts that only came down to mid-calves. Even Eidre, only dressed for riding in cloak and buff coat, still looked wealthier than he did.
“So, you’ve apparently run into something rather interesting?” Corentin asked.
Hans nodded. “I suppose you’ll have heard about the wyverns, killed up near Fort Highhome?”
“Yes” Corentin answered curtly.
“I found them. I found the bodies. I went out to West Point. Commonwealth’s working with West Point clan, but a few of them are willing to work with anybody who’ll take them down. Then it turns out a few locals, Connor Ferene for starters, were involved in the killings, and the Patriot’s brigade was involved too, and this Connor tried to kill me. So here we are”
“In summary, a couple of scalies got shot and nobody, including the scalies, really cares unless it’s a stick they can beat the republicans with” Aled said.
Why are we letting this git anywhere near politics again?
“Which is unfortunate considering that three ensouled beings got murdered and it seems I’m the only one who doesn’t want to use it for bloody point scoring” Hans said.
”In any case, the Commonwealth having West Point on their side is very bad for us. Now, I’m no soldier, but they’ll have both air and naval supremacy when you combine the wyverns with the navy, and there’s very little we can do to stop it” Corentin said. “Besides that, if these people keep attacking-and they will, one of them blew a lobster’s face off down in Trackford-then it’ll look like we want a war. Then the commonwealth won’t hold back, and we won’t have international support”
Corentin leaned back in his chair, satisfied that he had made his point.
“How we should do it” Uln said, “Is deal with the killers ourselves. That would send a message to the wyverns that we’re on their side”
Corentin flinched. “Without putting them on trial first? That’s a tad uncivilized”
“Oh, there’d be a trial. It just happens before you break out the war spurs and dive lances to go kill the buggers. Or at least that’s how the wyverns would do it. Us, we just arrest them, put them on trial then turn them over to the wyverns or hang them as needed.” Hans said, adding the second part before he sounded like too much of a murderous madman.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
“And if the Commonwealth intervenes?” Corentin asked.
“They’ll probably be glad we’re dealing with them ourselves.” Hans said.
“Or the Commonwealth objects, drives a wedge between West Point and Trarabac, and we actually have a fighting chance in a war.” Eidre said.
“The brigade are our allies. Why should we betray them for a couple of scalies? The scalies don’t even care about the dead.” Aled said.
Hans decided to let the question of whether that was a misinterpretation of wyvern funerary customs or of West Point politics unspoken.
“Oh, the wyverns care quite a bit. Openly, they’re happy to let the commonwealth deal with it. But more than a few of them want to do it their way. Spilt blood and cracked bone was the phrase. If you give a damn about Carfane, you do not want them turned loose on Carfane.” Hans said, forcing himself to look Aled in the eyes. He’d never liked doing that, but it did have a certain intimidating effect.
“Anyhow, none of this matters unless we can convince the other Carfani to support you.” Corentin said. “We need to get the Carfani supporting the Republic of Three Species behind you, make it their pet cause. Get organized. The Humanist radicals are already behind the Patriot’s Brigade.”
Eidre nodded. “How many delegates have already arrived?”
“A few dozen, mostly on our side. We should start getting organized before the Diet starts.” Corentin said.
“How long?” Hans asked.
“Two weeks. Though I imagine the politicking has already begun.” Eidre said.
Corentin clapped his hands. “Indeed it has. I should bring some of the delegates who have already arrived here.”
Hans sighed. He had no clue how a hunting trip had turned into managed to turn into getting dragged into this nonsense.
If it brings them to justice…
Of bloody course Corentin had to invite him to dinner.
A dozen gentry, one woodsrunner and a woose sat in the dining room, Hans doing his best to blot out the constant, painfully loud, chatter. Uln sat opposite him on the long table; that was the custom for husband and wife. The people sitting around her looked visibly uncomfortable at having to associate with a demi-human. That was common with Woose; Hans wasn’t sure whether it was prejudice or just from looking at something that was nearly human but not quite. It had never affected him, in any case.
Corentin had arranged the whole thing to try and get likely supporters organized and introduced to each other, as well to see what sorts of argument were likely to be used.
“So how did you find the bodies?” the man to his right asked. Enrin Lessos, a lawyer from Trackford, and, according to Corentin, the only Trackford delegate without Patriot’s Brigade connections.
He’d already answered that question from Rhianna Calesin, Corentin’s niece, only minutes before.
“Hunting. For sicklehawk.” he said in between mouthfuls. He had no desire to recount finding murdered bodies in the middle of dinner.
The man nodded, annoyed.
“Weren’t they in the service of the Commonwealth?” Aune Sade asked. He was a Ylundan man with black skin and short, greying hair. He’d been introduced as a prominent merchant and one of the few people to make good in the long term off the silver rush. He was also one of the representatives for Kasilisk.
Oh, not this again.
“They were killed on the ground in an ambush by people they thought they were at peace with. Doesn’t really matter who they were aligned with, it was murder” Hans said.
“Oh, of course.” Aune said. “But it will be an issue with the Patriot’s Brigade. As much as they refuse to say it, I hear they’re almost fighting an undeclared war in Trackford.”
“I wouldn’t know about Trackford.” Hans said. “But the squatters are sure as hell fighting an undeclared war out on the frontier. This is just the last straw.”
“Of course, the Woose population is shrinking whereas ours is expanding with no legal outlet, so it is inevitable that-“ began Rhianna Calesin. She was sitting next to Uln, leaning away from her as much as possible without actually falling out of her chair.
“You murder anyone who gets in your way? Because that’s what’s happening.” Hans snapped, the noise getting to him.
“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying that conflict is inevitable unless we come up with a fair way to handle land on the frontier. One that the Woose and Wyverns can agree to, and benefit from. “ She finished.
She wasn’t wrong. The commonwealth was trying to stop the flood but failing. If a Carfani republic could channel it instead…
“To do that, we need to make it clear that we can take the wyvern’s side and won’t play favourites like at Black Creek. And prosecuting the killers would be a start to that.” Eidre said, speaking from her position near the head of the table.
If they’d seen what I’ve seen…
…They’d think nothing more of it than I did killing that sicklehawk.
“But that would cause deep rifts if they turn out to be republicans. And we can’t afford a repeat of Black Creek. The Commonwealth is the true enemy.” Enrin Lessos, a lawyer from Trackford, said.
“Could you people decide if killing me is actually fucking murder or not already?” Uln asked.
The table fell silent, most of them staring, shocked, at Uln.
“The precedent from Black Creek is-“ Lessos began.
Hans resisted the urge to jam a tendril through his soul. It wasn’t easy. Uln looked like she was about to scramble across the table and strangle Lessos. He was very glad that they hadn’t brought weapons.
“That unless something changes, the Carfani are the people willing to protect murderers and the Commonwealth are the ones who’ll prosecute them. Compare Black Creek to the Trackford massacre. If we want the wyverns on our side, and the woose, then we need to change that.” Eidre said, raising her voice.
It was somewhat more polite than what Hans had in mind.
“In short, Carfane, and all of it, needs to unite or die.” said Larace Sade, Aune’s daughter. She was a quiet, serious looking young woman, very much her father’s daughter.
Amen to that was all Hans could think of in response. Amen to that.