Chapter 19

* * *

Smart people are afraid of the undead and try to stay away from them. In order not to be eaten, yes. Children are told fairy tales about how to behave when they meet them. How to avoid meeting them, or what to do so they don't bite them at all, just a little. If you're lucky, you can even ask for money in exchange for sucked blood. They make up all sorts of stories, especially the townspeople who love it. But almost all those stories end the same way. Lunch, of course.

In fact, the risens turned out to be different. Like humans, only undead. The proud and haughty guards of Messen Latham, the merchant-like, calculating subordinates of old Gardoman, and the rampaging backyards wolves of Zervan's looked no more like each other than artisans looked like peasants or warriors. They had their own traditions formed over the centuries, their way of dressing, their favorite places, and their hobbies. Vador hadn't figured it out on his own his teacher had shown him when they studied the peculiarities of caste society. It's true that vampires don't have castes, which means it's easy to go from one elder to another but Egard gave examples from life: to make it clear.

His initial fear of his new kin was gone; no one in the community was bad-mouthing him, humiliating him, and generally treating him well. Almost everyone. Some wanted to make the newcomer work for them but a few words from the master was enough to keep them off Vador's back. It was as if the Mistress had forbidden the young rebels to touch him without his master's permission for the rest of his training, and she was watching over it personally. Well, that's the way he understood it.

Vador rarely saw Mistress Celesta herself. At first, his lessons consumed most of his free time then he had to run around all day, or rather nights, on Master Egard's errands. For a whole month, there was a fuss, and all quietly, away from prying eyes. So he couldn't visit his family, but maybe that was for the best. What to tell them? "Hello, dear parents, here I am, your son! A little dead, but I'm well settled in the Capital!" His father would pull down his pants in a jiffy for such fun - he doesn't care that his son is a monster. Especially since he and Master had no way out of the dungeon now. Master Hustin forbade it.

They had been assigned to the sorcerer right after the strangers came to Taleya. Vador wondered if there were risens who were not afraid of their Mistress. It turns out, there are, only a few, and the head of the strangers is one of them. The sorcerer himself did not see him, only heard that Lady Celesta and Lady Medea (the first time he saw her, he froze) quarrel with him during the Plague. And now he's back, and he wants revenge. He was the only vampire who could not leave his homeland, so they sent all the young vampires away, except for Vador who couldn't yet. Well, if you can't, then you'd better get out of the way and go help Master Hastin in the lab.

Now it's funny to remember, but then he was walking, and his legs were trembling. He had been frightened of sorcerers since childhood and told them to stay away from them. He was now undead himself, but sucking blood was an understandable and somewhat customary thing. Mosquitoes suck blood, and no one is afraid of them. That's how they eat. Cows eat grass, wolves eat meat, and vampires feed on blood. Warlocks themselves, voluntarily sign a treaty with Morvan, and take the dark destiny for themselves and their descendants. That is, Master Hustin did not seem to him than a mere servant of the Darkness, but something of the wicked, a true concentrate of evil. And he was waiting for the worst fate, especially when he saw the dead men he had raised. The ones who scrubbed the master's floors and did all the cleaning.

In general, he made up some nonsense and believed it himself. He had been in the lab for a while now, and nothing much was going on, especially lately. He was not allowed in the Academy, and his mistress had also asked him not to go outside the dungeon. So he decided to make the most of his time and began to brew elixirs. That is, not so much to brew as to infuse or to make different extracts. The Master is also familiar with alchemy, though he does not know any magic, and they both have an apprentice at their disposal.

Just like this.

"Open the door, young man." Hustin was used to addressing students in a certain way, and he wasn't going to change his habits. "We have an important guest."

The door was gingerly opened, and Mistress Celesta, who nodded at Vador, entered the room. She was in a good mood, judging by the contented smile on the corners of her lips. On the shoulder of the deceptively fragile figure hung the unconscious carcass of a large man, which instantly filled the relatively small room with the smells of fried onions, sour wine, and stale sweat.

However, no one here was particularly squeamish.

"I finally found the right candidate," Celesta declared as she dumped her body on the floor.

Hustin immediately put aside the recipe book, turned down the fire under the bubbling cauldron, and walked closer to the man. He moved his hand over the prisoner, listening to his sensations, and nodded slowly:

"It's a strange feeling. There is something, but I don't know what it is."

"Even if his energy and blood hadn't matched the parameters you'd calculated, I'd still have brought him in." The Mistress paused beside Egard, who was grinding the slugs into mush, and she grimaced defiantly at the result of the vampire's efforts. The man only smiled. "My instincts were literally screaming his worthiness."

"Instincts?" The sorcerer took a small vial and a short syringe out of his pocket and deftly inserted the needle into a vein. "You have to listen to your instincts. Is there no one else?"

"Why, yes, it was." Celesta finished examining the battery of vials of potions and sat down in a chair. "But I decided on the least likable person for my first try. I doubt we'll get the results we want right away."

"Well, miracles do happen..." said Hustin without confidence.

The eternally young risen laughed softly.

"Any priest will tell you that miracles require long and careful preparation. Egard!"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Rejoice, your confinement is ending. The Spiders have sent a proposal for a meeting; you will go as Medea's advisor."

The Master Egard froze as he thought about the news. Before, he had been something of a personal assistant to Celesta, and a member of her retinue. Now he would be the closest of her inner circle of Elders, and the only one. Would such a transfer be considered a promotion? What was the reason for it?

"Are they stopping the Hunt?"

"Not yet," answered Celesta. "And officially, they never will. But in fact, they see that they couldn't destroy the Community, and they're willing to negotiate."

They got what they wanted.

A group of individuals, no matter how fanatical and powerful, cannot simultaneously be active and fend off the punitive apparatus of the state. The only exception is the weakness and fragmentation of the political leadership of the country. Which wants to use the presence of the enemy for some of their purposes. This is what the top risens took advantage of.

The secret service, along with the temple guard squads, had not been able to crush the sentient undead in a hurry. To be more precise, two and a half dozen vampires died in Taleya, which for any other community would have meant a guaranteed end. Thirty-two more died in other cities, with three of the younger communities wiped out entirely. In some places, local officials reacted too quickly to orders from the Capital; in some, they didn't get a warning in time, or they underestimated the danger. On the whole, the organizers' success was questionable, primarily because of the lack of coordination.

The temple investigators operated separately, the "spiders," commanded by the regular sentinels and reinforced by the guards, operated separately, and the army generally feigned activity, for the most part, preferring to mind their own business and hoping to see the shame of their traditional rivals. No one wanted to share information. On the other hand, other people's failures were diligently exposed and their failures were blamed on their rivals.

However, the vampires could not be said to have survived the big raid with few casualties. Few of the risen were killed, generally speaking, the least disciplined, experienced, and, therefore, the least valuable. But the mortals who served them suffered greatly. The merciless scythe of the holy warriors had wiped out half the Morvanite cults. Disorder and confusion reigned among the survivors. Dynasties of servants, those close to the elders, and the families of the descendants of the rebels were dispossessed, exiled to the outskirts of the state, and heads of families, and many men were executed. The system of existence that had been established and well-adjusted over many years collapsed. They had to return to the primitive ways of obtaining blood and gathering information.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

In other words, hunt in the streets and act in person more often than through intermediaries. The risks were increasing, with squads of corrals still roaming the streets and the upper levels of the dungeons... The losses would have been far greater had the Academy not secretly sabotaged the orders of the Secret Guard. The mages had no intention of helping their enemies oppress their most consistent allies, and so, even after receiving a direct command to conduct a search ritual, they managed to nullify the results of the sorcery.

In response, Celesta unleashed Zervan's pack. Who took their toll on the city's defenseless citizens.

The level of irritation in the city slowly rose, fueled by carefully dispersed rumors. The efforts of the authorities, unable to restore normal life, irritated the common people. They grew weary of half-drunken patrols clinging to passers-by, while bloodless corpses were found in the streets every morning. The poor whispered amongst themselves that life had been quieter under the Night Mistress, and silently berated her killers. Now there was no one to keep the undead in line, and they attacked humans.

There was plenty of money and tangible assets, despite Gardoman's whining about losses and robbery. The gold he had accumulated in the quiet years before was lying in foreign banks or deep underground hiding places. The authorities did not get their hands on every source of income. Of course, they requisitioned the biggest ones, but small shops, stables, mills, and small transportation offices continued to operate. Despite the temporary loss of control over them, it could be regained later. Not to mention the trading houses, which had managed to move out of the country and therefore suffered acceptable losses for their turnover. In the long run, the financial situation was not bad.

Celesta did not regret the money; she was far more concerned with the deaths of her subjects. Both rebels and mortals. Therefore, the Mistress was glad that she managed to save the most valuable human resources - an elite sect of fanatic assassins and a small group of weak mages. Both were given strict orders to remain quiet. The carefully selected Morvanites, who had received an elaborate pledge of allegiance at initiation, were something of a weapon of the last resort. They were employed as servants, janitors, and footmen in the homes of officials and the palaces of the nobility, and worked there quietly, waiting for their mistresses' orders. For the time being, Celeste was reluctant to launch an all-out terror, saving a trump card for an emergency and contenting herself with receiving fresh reports.

Another blow that forced the Secret Guard leadership to settle was the loss of many channels of information. Enemies of the kingdom suddenly received documents exposing Taleya's most effective agents or just hints that such-and-such an official had too close ties with the wrong people. Along the way, the Welfare Dragon Party skillfully used a dose of killer dirt given by Medea to patrons "in gratitude for their support," and forced Chancellor Rakawa to make excuses to the Sovereign for several unsightly points in his biography. The experienced politician, however, disavowed the accusations by turning in several of his closest associates, but his position was shaken.

The officials were unnerved by Latham's actions. Since almost none of the masters of the other cities were willing to declare independence (the fools that Celesta had spared had been killed by humans), there were no rebellions among the vampires. The Guard of the Undead remained in the Capital. Here, too, they found work. The individual terror Latham unleashed did a good job of thinning the ranks of the Secret Guard, killing or kidnapping many of its officers. Incidentally, some of them did not object to a change in fortune, and exchange for the removal of themselves and family from the country gave out information of prohibitive value. Not all of them, though. The priests of some temples were also affected, but things were not so rosy with them - it requires a lot of effort to penetrate beyond the consecrated walls.

This was about the time Medea received an invitation from Baron Tulak to negotiate.

"You have chosen a rather strange place to meet, Messena Medea."

"It was recommended to me by the people I knew," the vampiress said eagerly. "They said it was easy to get out of here. There are a lot of exits, and you can't cover them all. And that's very important to me! Strange monks are running around my friends' houses, waving papers as if to arrest me, demanding that they open the doors. My reputation would be hopelessly ruined if dozens of noble families were not similarly troubled! They are constantly presented with ridiculous demands, and then wonder why they refuse to fulfill them. Here, for example, is the story of Baron Adi. Some lousy sergeant of the guard came to him and tried to search the manor. Of course, he was flogged in the stables along with his entire posse and thrown out of the gate, but the attempt itself is outrageous! In the old days, the titled nobility was far better protected from the vile machinations of lowly men."

"The use of violence against a representative of the Guard..."

"Justified, if he has insulted a titled person," Medea interrupted him impolitely. "No action may be taken against a baron without the express permission of the Son of Seas, who may rule for ten thousand years, and in the presence of his appointed representative. The fall of morals is monstrous! All is lost! Taleya is ruined! Even those who are supposed to be the guardians of the law cannot be trusted. I mean, you can't trust them at all!"

Tulak gritted his teeth. It had cost him a great deal of trouble to first convey the fugitive singer's request for a meeting, and then convince her of his peaceful intentions. Now the clever wretch, instead of a serious conversation, began to act like an idiot, which he knew for sure she was not.

"I assure you, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. There is no threat to your life or dignity."

"Alas, without a strong protector behind whose back she could shelter from the storms and hardships of life, the weak and fragile woman must behave quietly, like a growing grass!" Medea blotted the corner of her eye with a snow-white handkerchief. "Ever since my sister's death, I have been in agitation! My heart is bursting with pain, unable to bear this loss!"

"By the way, can you tell me exactly how she... left? There are completely contradictory rumors about her last battle."

The vampiress waved her hands in the air:

"I was not present at that tragic event. And don't confuse me at all! Do you think I don't remember that you gave an order to kill her that day?! You are a murderer! Murderer! A monster who repays evil for good!"

Just in case, Baron stepped back, under the protection of two guardsmen.

"Mr. Laar, by the way, who had just resigned the other day, only ordered the arrest of your friend. No one was going to kill her."

"Oh, don't lie! Do you think I'm a fool?"

"I wouldn't think of it!" Tulak sincerely assured her.

"Then why are you trying to deceive me? Those creepy muzzles-I've been described to me, yes, yes! They didn't behave like they did when they were arrested! They used fire and magic, and they came to the hideout in the daytime... No one was there, really. All the kindred had gone into hiding beforehand, but still!"

"We feared the inadequate reaction of Messen Latham or Zervan. Quite rightly we feared it, as you see."

"What do you mean?" Medea wondered. "What have they done?"

Her eyes looked surprised and naïve.

"I am talking about the numerous murders they have committed against the subjects of the Son of the Sea, may he rule for ten thousand years! Their actions are unacceptable! The people are afraid to go out into the streets, they lock themselves in their houses, they grumble."

"Well, what's my kin got to do with it?" the woman asked a logical question. "The city is full of bandits, and some, I might add, wear uniforms. Catch them."

"Regular bandits don't rip the victim's throat open and drink blood."

"They hide their evidence, trying to blame their crimes on the undead," Medea shrugged. "Though, even if your accusations are true, I'm sure my friends must have a good reason for their behavior. I'll ask them when I see them."

"When?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"When will you see them?"

"I have no idea. They're hiding, I'm afraid to go outside. Someday."

"Would you like me to provide you with security?"

The beauty smiled sweetly in response to the taunt:

"No, no, you can use it yourself. Personally, I'm thinking of leaving the Capital for somewhere north of here. You know, it's much calmer up there."

"There is no need to go anywhere," Tulak said firmly. "The only obstacle to peace and tranquility is the activity of these... your kindred. Only the terror they have unleashed prevents the Chancellor from revoking the permission granted to the Temples for the warriors to stay in the Capital."

"Well, explain it to them," Medea suggested. "I'm sure they're tired of hiding in corners, too."

"They destroy our messengers," answered the Baron briefly. If he didn't need the vampiress...

"You see, you've made them very angry. You can expect anything from Zervan, but Messen Latham is an extremely restrained person."

"I didn't notice."

"Then just trust me. He's a true knight from the old days, a terrific man. It is extremely difficult to change his mind if he made a decision."

Then came the bargaining. The Baron hinted that there was no need to convince anyone of anything, it was enough to arrange a meeting on terms convenient for mortals. Guards and Holy Warriors would do the rest. Medea only laughed back and demanded an official apology for the mistake and generous compensation. When Tulak became indignant, she harshly reminded her that the other elders of Celesta's former inner circle were not subject to her. It would take time and money for them to accept her status as the new leader. And if Hastin and Latham would not argue much, the first enough for the peace of mind laboratory, and the second enough personal decree of the Son of the Sea, with the others, it's not so simple. Zervan has support in the provinces and has an uncanny knack for traps, and Gardomann has fled the country and is playing his own game.

In short, the official pressured and tried to threaten, Medea cried and moaned along the lines of "I wish I could, but". Eventually, they came to an agreement. Henceforth, mortals would not interfere in the undead's affairs, leaving them to solve their problems and demanding loyalty to the Throne and tranquility in return. That is, the risens had no right to deal with the enemies of the state and act in their interests, as well as to kill people for food. At least, to kill not noblemen and not openly. The agreement reached did not regulate relations with any religious cults.

The peace was made.

* * *