Chapter 10
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The older Celesta grew, the more her invisible possessions grew, and the more time it took to manage them. Good assistants were always in short supply, not every task could be assigned to them, and the dangers of the excessive growth of personal arrogance had to be borne in mind. Even though its power was firm, there were regular unicum who tried to challenge it. The emergence of the Guard solved the problem only partially, as recent events have shown.
The routine was very annoying. She'd been looking for someone to take over the life of the capital's community for a long time, and she hadn't seen anyone suitable. There was too much tied up in Taleya, where all the threads of government converged, so she could not simply appoint a commandant, as she had done in some other cities. Certainly, some functions had been shared between Merk, the elders, or the respected mortals, but she still had to make many of the decisions governing the city.
There was work all the time. Always.
In the hours since her meeting with Tar, Celesta had studied the stack of financial reports from the two vampire-controlled trading houses; talked to the two subjects who ran the underground palace construction crews; approved a summary of household expenses for the last quarter; read three intelligence reports on various operations; agreed with Latham to expand the guard by five fighters. Finally, on the fly, she discussed with Vador the changes in the School of Paths program. She could not force the Beast walkers to change the Path, but she could create conditions that would encourage them to study more social or military sciences.
She got the impression that she didn't have time for anything.
Usually, negotiations at the highest level are preceded by a long preparation. The parties agree on the range of topics to be discussed, outline preliminary positions, and hint at what they are prepared to give up and what they want in return. The rules change if the talks are held secretly. Intelligence agencies have their quirks, and their etiquette, so Celesta had no idea why Sae had asked to talk. Kalderan's suggestion seemed plausible, but it was not specific.
The Special Cabinet of the Guard, in the old days when the rebels were in the service of the throne, was engaged solely in the protection of the King. The rest of the tasks were divided among the "spiders," diplomatic intelligence, the army, and other secret services, which did their jobs well. Then came the collapse, much had to be rebuilt almost from scratch, and the functions were passed from those who could not cope, to those who could. As a result, now the Lieutenant of the Guard, who was in charge of a special office, had a very, very wide range of questions in his area of responsibility.
"Messena Celesta," the man who had been sitting there rose to his feet and bowed in reverence at her arrival. "It is a great honor, happiness, a blessing bestowed upon the unworthy to behold the Blessed of the gods.
Mistress noted mentally that the king's previous envoys had been far less polite. They used forms of address to a person of inferior status, and they never called her blessed, refusing to acknowledge the fact of a divine touch. At best they called her "noble". Sae addressed her as a ruler, though he did not kneel, much less prostrate himself. He was wise not to specify who Celesta's patrons were.
The current reigning king, who ascended the throne a year ago, Valier II, seemed smarter than his predecessors. He took his time, replaced his father's officials with his own gradually, and did not rush through reforms. So far his actions have made a pleasant impression on the Mistress. And now, apparently, he decided to accept reality and bring the formal status of the ruler of vampires in line with reality.
Or maybe he's just so screwed up that he's willing to make compromises.
"It is equally pleasant for me, a humble woman, to receive the trusted messenger of Heaven! Please, sit down, noble sir. Taste the wine - Phalaenic, from last year's harvest."
Nuances, nuances. The previous barons of Sae, the Ranneck clan, failed in their conspiracy, and as a result, the title was taken from them and given to their more loyal vassals, the Nikchash clan. Therefore, only the noble. The offer to drink wine together is also important. According to established etiquette among vampires, sharing a drink with a person, you can not harm him, even just drinking his blood is undesirable. The rule is often violated, but violators are looked upon disapprovingly.
"Thank you, Messena," the lieutenant bowed again, before sitting down in the offered chair. "I hope my visit was not inconvenient?"
"Not at all. The arrival of a man so close to the Throne, one might say, the sovereign's left hand is always a joy," Celesta said sarcastically. "Is your lord well, may he rule for a thousand years?"
"Oh, rest assured, his health is unshakable and his power is firm."
They couldn't and didn't want to, get to the purpose of their visit right away. They looked at each other, exchanged hints, and played with words. Sae recalled the recent events when the "spiders" gutted the uncovered nets of Morvanites, and Celesta responded by jabbing at some facts of court life, related to people from the king's inner circle.
"We, too, have much to worry about," the lieutenant was gradually getting to the point. "You must agree that in the light of recent events, the appearance of your confidant, first in Zonna and then in Lascaris, cannot but cause concern."
"Had it not been for the actions of your sovereign's loyal servants, Latam would not have had to rush to the capital of Sineva," Mistress noted to herself that her movements were not yet known to the humans. "As for Lascaris... Perhaps we'll discuss the subject later. I'm not ready, to be frank with people right now - not after all the losses my subjects have suffered at your hands."
The lieutenant swallowed the term "subjects" without flinching.
"Believe me, Messena, whatever the relationship between the servants of the one who sits on the Azure Throne and the blessed Mistress, my sovereign has every respect and friendliness for you personally."
"They take some strange forms."
"Not at all," Sae was not embarrassed. "Consider this: despite the hard evidence of illegal activities, we have not touched either the Quail Trading House or the Southern Water Company. Darmen's shipyards also continue to operate unhindered. What, if not respect for you personally, can explain such leniency?"
Celesta froze an effort of will keeping herself from more displays of confusion. "Good shot," she mentally appraised. So that's how it is. The king's men had used the material they'd gotten their hands on, going through the chains and leaving the tidbits they'd discovered for blackmail. And she does not know what exactly they know, and therefore can not implement countermeasures. It turns out that it is necessary to change everything.
Damn you, Zervan!
"You haven't touched the Quail, because it contains the money of Prince Messiran, a quarrel with whom your lord has absolutely no plans," the Mistress replied, barely able to hide her shock, hoping that the mortal didn't understand her reaction. "As for the shipyards and the Company, until the tensions in the Archipelago subside, there's no need to worry about their fate. The kingdom needs them in good working order almost more than we do."
"Perhaps the Messena is not yet aware of the latest negotiations between our delegation and Lord Captain Nisolae," Sae said softly. "We have agreed on the division of spheres of influence. The Archipelago will not renew its supply contracts with Lanaka, and our admirals, in turn, will undertake not to sail south of Smoky Nose."
"The fleet is relocating north and there is no urgent need for repair facilities in the south," Celesta nodded thoughtfully. "That's why you waited so long to come to me. So what do you want?"
"I beg your pardon, Messena, I do not understand you."
"Stop it, Lieutenant," the risen grimaced. "Save me and your time, especially since you have less. What does your master demand in exchange for the sanctity of our enterprises?"
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"O blessed Mistress, he who is clothed in royal robes only wishes peace and prosperity for all nations! The purity of his thoughts is perfect! He cherishes the hope that the days of discord are over, and desires the friendship of the lord of the people of the night, as powerful as she is beautiful."
"Is that it? And how will this friendship be expressed?"
"Some minor favors will prove the sincerity of both parties. My sovereign believes that having demonstrated his friendliness, he is entitled to expect a reciprocal"
"Is he expecting something specific, or will he leave the choice up to me?" The Mistress could feel the irritation slowly building up inside her. She had made it clear to the baron that she was bored with the games of higher speech, but he, apparently, simply could not switch. Accustomed to conversations with aristocrats, she was forced to follow him in the language of the nobility, which had a lot of semantic shades.
"A mere trifle, worth nothing to Messena," assured the lieutenant. "We would like to know who the ultimate beneficiary of this transaction is, and to obtain documents confirming his participation."
He opened the leather folder that was on the table, pulled out a piece of paper, and handed it to Celesta. The vampiress, not even pretending to need a source of light, ran her eyes over the contents. A banker's draft, a large sum, though, and an unusual sender - the keeper of the Voice of Silence, one of the senior hierarchs of the Celestial Purity. Not only are the archives under his care, but he is also, officially speaking, the head of the prison ministry department. And sometimes there are very important people sitting in prisons.
"Why did you come to us?" The mistress looked at the lieutenant. "I can't believe you can't trace the whole chain."
We don't want to advertise our participation. Besides, we need evidence suitable for an official procedure.
What kind of procedure, he did not specify. Okay, at least he spoke straightforwardly, without any innuendo.
Celesta put the document on the table and shrugged philosophically. It's unpleasant, of course, when they take you by the throat, but there's nothing you can do about it. Life is like that - one day you are on top, and the next day you are on the bottom. It is impossible to be in a strong position all the time, sometimes you have to compromise, including with your conscience. Plus, the deal seems to be a profitable one. The vampires keep their assets and gain time, and in return, the King gets to use their network's resources. Valier will not limit himself to one "request". Gradually, he will get involved, appreciate the convenience of cooperation, and begin to rely on them more... Sometimes the tail wags the dog. The main thing is that the King fulfills his obligations.
In any case, they need time now. At least to understand what exactly people have unearthed. Re-analyze the information leaked by Zervan, make a list of "exposed" structures, and urgently pull out the servants who found themselves under attack. Until the work is finished, the vampires will play by the rules of the Son of the Sea, well, he, in turn, will not take any aggressive action. He has no reason to back Celesta into a corner so long as the situation suits him.
"I'll be frank, Lieutenant: so far your sovereign has made a pleasant impression. He has a very rational approach to problem-solving. I hope that in his reign the people of the night will not have to leave the country as they did under his grandfather. We will, of course, comply with your request and find the necessary papers. How urgently are they needed, are there any restrictions?"
"It is highly desirable to meet the deadline of a month, Messena."
"You will get the information sooner, but there may be difficulties with the delivery of documents to Taleya. However, don't rush to judgment. A month let be a month."
The mention of the current ruler's grandfather served as a hint, which Sae must have understood. Then, too, a messenger from the King showed up, demanded with threats, and promises the dirt on a powerful Kingsman - too powerful to be executed. On reflection, Celesta agreed. But when the time came to receive payment for the service rendered, the King declared that promises made to the undead need not be kept, and declared a hunt.
They had to go into the dungeons, wrap up operations, and get the servants out of trouble.
The mistress helped his enemies for the rest of his life. Everyone. She wanted to believe that she had made the liar bitterly regret what he had done.
In some ways, today Mistress was closing a not-so-pleasant page of her long post-life. Or rather, not exactly closing, but rather sums up the last year. She had to decide what to do with the Zervan inheritance.
Two men were sitting in front of her. Perhaps the most respected and authoritative of the risens, following in the path of the Beast. Of the survivors.
She had long sympathized with the first, Krustyar, and regretted that he rarely came to the Capital. He was a loner by nature, preferring to retreat to the west of the country. He reminded Celesta of a hardy, self-confident predator, a big beast that had no intention of proving anything to anyone. Just lying in the den, listening to the rain, thinking about something of his own. Got up. Stretches. Walks out, and catches up with his prey. Killed it, ate it. Comes home. Lays down again. She would have loved to appoint him the new Elder, but, alas, his way of thinking is totally unsuitable.
His neighbor, Alat, was much more sociable. He was formerly a member of Zervan's retinue, but not of the inner circle. He was not particularly bad, had a generally decent reputation, had no conflict with the cult leaders, and the mortals did not complain about him. They rather liked him, though the latter was not an indicator - the adepts of the Beastly Paths had a bright, wild charisma that attracted people like moths to the light. A kind of "bad-boy aura," as Celesta sometimes called it. Just now Alat had led a large gang from the outskirts of the capital into submission, slaughtering some of the leaders who wanted independence and had appeared at his Mistress's call, preparing to make excuses for a large number of dead bodies. She had no intention of scolding him - she remembered how she had worked in that environment, and she knew he could not do otherwise.
"I can see why Krustyar didn't leave. He probably wasn't," Celesta nodded at the recluse, who smiled slightly and bowed his head in agreement. "Why did you stay? You were not the least of Zervan's retinue."
"I listened to him and decided to leave. My gut told me. He didn't say outright that let's go, the Mistress is not a low for us now. He was just hinting. I didn't immediately understand what he was suggesting, I just felt uncomfortable. And then he went off the rails. It was reported to you. Zervan left the capital and I came back. I knew he wouldn't come here."
After the ornate verbal laces of the higher tongue, Alat's simple speech was a true respite to the ears. He had to be weaned from foul language for a long time after the second birth to achieve the desired effect. But now it was much easier to communicate with him, especially since he had never lied to her. He understood that it made no sense.
"But why didn't you leave with him?"
"I'm not a lawless man," Alat grimaced. "You can't have no law at all."
"It's a pity that not everyone thinks so. Even here, not to mention the Seven Rivers. You, Krustyar, are going there."
Risen grimaced. He didn't like to travel, preferring to spend his time in the deep woods, which he regarded as almost personal property. But he didn't mind, either- Celesta rarely gave him assignments and didn't bother him over anything.
"Why, Mistress?"
"I need to have a clear understanding of what's going on there. Is there someone there to talk to, or not? Based on current information, the Seven Rivers should be put out in the sun in droves, but it doesn't work that way. On the other hand, in the recollections of the prisoner captured in Lascaris, I did not see a single decent person. So you have a long way to go. You will see, you will judge, you will report."
"As you say, Mistress."
"Just don't break. They know how to corrupt, Zervan, as you can see, succumbed."
Without words, Krustyar grinned dryly and contemptuously, more like grinning, expressing his opinion of the deceased. He and the former elder did not like each other. The enemy of the enemy.
"Alat. What about gangs?"
"I got the capital's gangs," the new boss reported. "There's still someone running around, but I'll have it done in a week."
"The other cities? Can you be a coordinator?"
"As an Elder or something? No, I don't think so. I'm sorry, Mistress, but I need a different kind of authority and more strength. Richard and Gepheon are not much inferior to me, and their arrogance will not let them obey me."
"I'll add power."
"I won't do it anyway. They'll ignore my instructions, I'll have to travel around the country, knocking on empty heads, it won't be without bodies, and then it will come from you... I don't want that kind of happiness."
In fact, Celesta assumed that Alat would refuse. He'd never been particularly ambitious, never wanted to climb to the top, and he was sober about his abilities. Neither did he have any prospects. Those who follow the Paths of the Beast (she could hardly keep from blurting out "werewolves") are very sensitive about hierarchy, and would never follow anyone who was known to be less powerful. Or not for long. So assuming inevitable rebellion and, of course, casualties, Alat is absolutely right.
"Sometimes valuable information comes in from the streets. I wouldn't want to lose that source."
"Mistress, no problem," the hunter replied without hesitation. "You just say that from now on you'll take one cut by rumors, and everyone will be happy. Before, there were two cuts to the commonwealth - one to Zervan and one to the stooges, I mean, financiers. If you announce that now you take a cut of the information, the ringleaders will come kissing your feet."
Krustyar smiled. Somewhat surprised by the passage, Celesta raised her right eyebrow slightly.
"Well, I mean, of course, they will kiss and without it," Alat understood her in his way. "But not enthusiastically."
After letting them both go to meet their difficult fate, the petite mistress of the undead and, according to some, the avatar of the dark goddess was left alone. She wasn't expecting anyone else today, so she could sit quietly, thinking. In principle, the result was expected, except that Alat pleasantly surprised her by making a sensible suggestion. She would probably follow it.
There is no more unified gang leadership. So be it.
The traitor's inheritance has been dealt with, except for the surprise from the king. However, such "greetings from the past" appear inevitably, it is impossible to foresee everything, it remains to try to even out the possible damage. That's what she'll do. If she's lucky, she might get a chance to weaken the priests' positions, or to give the king the idea of getting rid of some of his subjects by sending them across the Steppe.
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