Chapter 8
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Night. The streets are barred by thorns. Houses turned into silent fortresses as darkness fell. The small groups of passersby with torches, suspiciously looking around and clutching iron-clad batons or other weapons. Such is the Lower Town now.
Fifteen years ago, Taleya was different. More open, more peaceful, more friendly. Artisan communities did not organize their militias to protect families from the gangs that flooded the capital; impoverished people did not migrate to Pit, adding to their already precarious poverty by taking any job, legal or otherwise. The guards, who in years past had rarely ventured beyond the Upper City, now only kept an eye on the mansions of aristocrats and priests, leaving the rest of the quarters to their fate. And, frankly, in their outlook and their way of obtaining sustenance, the worthy guards of the order were not at all different from the bandits. The guards were even more feared. Corpses were found far more often, and the bazaars were openly filled with dope or dark artifacts. Strangers' ships docked in the harbor, unloading whatever bales they could with goods that bypassed customs. The number of brothels where one could buy cheap drugs or rent a shabby whore for ridiculous money had almost tripled.
Seeing the once majestic city, the largest on the shores of the Good Sea, filled with fear and lingering hopelessness was unpleasant. It hurt almost physically, though in the human sense of pain she hadn't felt in a long time. Celeste had grown quite fond of Taleya. She'd spent the lion's share of her time here, knew the ins and outs of the capital, visited the ancestral estates of the nobility, and spoke the same language as the inhabitants of the creepiest of cloaks. Yes, her influence and power among the townspeople, especially the criminal element, had increased recently. So what? The undead has always preferred the stability of existence. The reckless Zervan is the exception that proves the rule.
The vampiress walked past the tall temple, looking displeased at the piles of garbage by the steps. Under the current ruler's father, the abbot might have been demoted for such negligence, under his grandfather, he might have been exiled to the frontier forever. The cult of Derkana was something like an officially approved religion. Officials were obliged to take part in certain rituals, thereby receiving from the ruler a piece of sacred power and at the same time confirming their loyalty. What they really believed in was of little interest to anyone.
The common people in the kingdom preferred to worship small local deities, rather spirits, which were closer to them and did not attract much attention from the authorities. There was also widespread service to Illiar - his temples grew like mushrooms at one time. The growth of the flock of the Lord of Light was because the undead did not feel well in the territory hallowed in his name. Later, the mages and priests of other deities figured out which signs and rituals hurt the darkly marked creatures, and introduced changes to their services "due to the current situation," but by then the cult had gained strength and penetrated all strata of society.
Being considered a direct descendant of the Mistress of Waters, the Son of the Sea was naturally the high priest of Derkana. Logically speaking, this position provided a lot of opportunities, especially for an intelligent man. Unfortunately, a fool sat on the throne. Even ultra-loyal popular opinion had ceased to idealize their ruler for some time, and there were good reasons for the resulting skepticism. Irrhan had a monstrous tendency toward mysticism from a young age, made his political decisions based on divination, and had his retinue of mostly fanatics like himself.
There were plenty of smart people around him too, only it would have been better if there were none at all.
Now at court three factions were naturally formed, each with its ideology, including in the religious sphere. The first, composed entirely of members of the old aristocracy, was in fact in opposition to its ruler. The paradox of the political competition. It was called the "Dragon of Welfare" and as its leader, it recognized Prince Kono, the uncle of the current ruler, well as the other members of the reigning family (Irrhan's close kin was also dissatisfied). In addition, the "blessed ones" were joined by a large part of the titled nobility, who did not want change and feared a decline in their status. "Dragons" sponsored monasteries of the Derkana cult and were closely associated with all the temples tracing their history back to before the Plague. In fact, it was former family cults of aristocrats that had grown to paradoxical sizes.
The second party was also made up of people of noble birth but from simpler clans. These were some of the earls and barons, especially those whose possessions were near the borders. They were allowed to keep their own large armies to repel possible attacks of enemies, and their lands were often crossed by trade routes, which gave financial power and led to the emergence of their own intelligence network. Although not "blessed", they often enjoyed serious influence at court, but were deprived of the most prestigious positions and wished to correct this disadvantage.
They chose "Beech and Lily of the Valley" as their symbol. The beech stood for the non-titled nobility, of which there were also many in their ranks. The ideological justification for this political current was provided by the temple of Blue Ang, a minor deity in the retinue of the Mistress of the Waters. In recent years, however, Ang has increasingly been referred to as the consort of Derkana, reflecting the increased influence of his worshippers and leading to noisy religious disputes. So far, bloodless.
Finally, a diverse coalition of "new" noblemen, whose ancestors had been elevated after the Plague, rich merchants, and migrants from neighboring countries, united around the Temple of the Sun. Taleнa was not a mono-national state, and the concept of "nationality" had changed somewhat in the last three hundred years. The nations were young. Nevertheless, certain culturally constructed communities did exist, and their leaders often clashed with the royal servants because of the latter's desire to get rid of autonomy. Their representatives did not hold key positions at court, but thanks to their control over an army of small and medium-sized officials, they were able to block almost any decree.
The latter group, however, did have one powerful patron - High Chancellor Rakawa. With intelligence, cunning, incredible intuition, and rare charm, this cynical and overbearing descendant of the ancient Counts of Scalia was able to occupy a place unattainable by his ancestors. As the acknowledged leader of the Beeches and Lilies of the Valley because of his origins and personal talents, he formed an alliance with the hierarchs of the Temple of the Sun, and his ability to intrigue and read people's souls ensured him the favor of the young Son of the Sea. As time passed, Irrрan began to listen more and more to the advice of his more experienced vassal, who appeared to share his mystical views and brought his master into contact with representatives of new spiritual schools.
An extraordinary personality.
Celesta's status prevented her from meeting personally with the Chancellor, which did not prevent her from communicating with his confidants. Of course, such meetings were mostly directive and instructive in nature and had recently been reduced to a minimum since Laar, one of the Scalia family had taken over as head of the "spiders". Rakawa was not shy about using the undead to his advantage. This man cared little for the undead taking his orders, only expediency and results mattered. So far, the result had suited him fine. But the longer the old schemer's actions, the more he relied on the priesthood, which hated the risen, and Celesta awaited the day when her kin would be sacrificed.
I hate politics.
The more responsibility you have, the more often you have to do unpleasant things. For example, dealing with scumbags. They can be charming, polite as hell, show great manners, and impress with their strict upbringing. However, the essence cannot be hidden, and sooner or later it will come out and show itself, most likely in communication with the inferiors. People who depend on them.
Celesta, sad as it was, also depended on the chancellor and his minions. She would like to think that this situation was about to change. People were literally pushing the undead to revolt.
The girl turned into a quiet alley, marked the four watchers in their usual places, walked a little along the high wall, and knocked three times on the inconspicuous gate. As usual, the door opened a minute later. The silent guard, smelling of incense and a light drug, did not attempt to look under the deep hood of the late visitor. He simply escorted her to the house, shining a lantern in her path, and handed her over to another guard, younger and more dangerous. The other bowed slightly and motioned for the lady to follow him.
Although she was expected, the local host didn't accept the vampiress right away. He wanted to demonstrate his importance and the subordinate position of his guest, the bastard. He made her sit in the waiting room, under the supervision of two armed guards, next to a portable ark adorned with the signs of Light. Celesta certainly didn't show how uncomfortable her proximity was - we're not talking about nervous sweating mortals - but she made a notation in her memory. The bill she'd intended to present to Baron Tulak someday had grown by one more point.
Her current supervisor, apparently, did not think it necessary to be polite, and as soon as the vampire crossed the threshold, began to interrogate her: "Why didn't you follow Captain Guin's orders?"
Celesta defiantly slowly chose a comfortable chair, did not wait for the proposal, sat down, and only then spoke.
"Is Guin already a captain? I expressed my doubts at the time about the current personnel policy. No, he's not stupid, but his experience as an army officer weighs on him and hinders his work."
"Answer the question!" Tulak raised his voice. "It is not for you to decide who deserves to hold what position!"
"Oh, calm down, I don't intend to stop you from doing anything foolish," the risen assured him. "As for the order to hand over the captive stranger to the monks... was it my duty to break the will of the blessed Yunariq?"
Baron grudgingly pursed his lips. He could not say bluntly that the order of the regional officer of the "spiders" was more important than the expressed wish of a distant relative of the ruler, for heads had been taken off for less. But he didn't want to let Celesta get out of a potentially unpleasant situation, either.
"Don't play with words, lady Celesta! Your action falls well within the Privy Code, the article "disobeying an order".
"So, organize a tribunal," the vampiress suggested with a serious look. "You make your arguments, and I'll call on the Voice of Lash to prove my point."
"I wouldn't laugh in your situation. It is more serious than you seem to think."
"This is no laughing matter to me at all. Reports of demons are coming in from all over the country; a new cult practicing human sacrifice has appeared in the south; Cardach the Accursed is lurking in the mountains of the north, employing two vampires. He is, incidentally, considered one of the strongest dark mages of our time. And instead of dealing with these serious problems, I am forced to waste my time planning operations to eliminate noblemen."
Celesta became silent. She had already allowed herself to say more than was reasonable in the current situation.
"It is not for you to argue with the orders of those entrusted with the trust of the Son of the Sea himself!" Tulak immediately took advantage of the pause. "Treason must be punished mercilessly! Snakes are a hundred times more dangerous than open adversaries, and we must rid ourselves of those whose loyalty to the House has not stood the test of time. Oh, speaking of Cardach, I'm not so sure that the vampires serving him are really fugitives, as you claim. Perhaps you allowed or even ordered them to swear allegiance to the sorcerer?"
To Celesta's deepest regret, this was not the case. Two criminals had fled into the mountains to the half-mad necromancer, who had dared to break the laws she had established. Something had to be done about them, and urgently so that the rest of them would not have an unnecessary illusion of being able to escape the Night Mistress's judgment. So she was outraged in all sincerity: "How dare you! I always coordinate this kind of operation with the head of the Guard!"
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Or almost always.
"Really? Then in the future, try not to do things that make one doubt your sincerity," Tulak advised with a satisfied chuckle. "The Son of the Sea, though he has ruled for a thousand years, holds no favor with the undead. His Grace the Chancellor has so far succeeded in finding arguments in favor of your damned kind, and the undead have been useful to the throne, but recent events could disqualify you from his favor."
She distracted herself for a moment, wondering how beautiful the bloodstains would have looked on the dark green cloth upholstery of the walls. She was used to human ingratitude, but it still hurt. The undead had honestly kept their oath of allegiance and, despite their craving for more independence, were generally loyal to the kingdom.
However, the community should not depend on the intrigues of politicians. If it is forced to go underground, it will go underground.
"I am immensely grateful for his mercy, and always ready to do his bidding," Celesta said calmly, with a habitual effort to suppress a flash of anger. "The great chancellor's wisdom is like a vast ocean, giving life and good to those who touch its shores. Happy is the ruler who has such an adviser! Can an insignificant one contribute to the fulfillment of the plans that lead to the prosperity of all?"
The Baron grimaced almost imperceptibly as the vampiress switched to a higher dialect. He reasonably assumed he was being mocked. The undead had mastered the etiquette and language of the nobles in the days when the bearers of the original tradition were still alive, familiar with a mass of subtle nuances lost in more recent times. Sometimes the slightest shift in accent was enough to turn praise into a caustic insult, and the court took great advantage of it.
"You have the opportunity to atone for your Lascaris mistake," the man nodded, confirming his companion's thoughts. "The position of the lord of Capara is contrary to the strategic interests of the State, and it is up to you to convey to the Baron the depth of the displeasure of His Grace."
In other words, Capara refused to sell a piece of his land for a ridiculously low price to Rakawa's kin, and he must be convinced. Actually, it is strange, Baron Gusto sympathizes with Beech and Lily of the Valley, but the chancellor does not seem to ruin his own.
"Must the thread of the life of the one who called upon the wrath of those clothed in blue be torn?"
"This is unacceptable! No one is allowed to shed divine blood. The only death in battle with equals or the direct will of the Highest, who have called their descendants to service, can end a nobleman's life path early. However, if you see signs of interference of the eternal forces, then... Sometimes the gods choose people as an instrument for the fulfillment of their plans."
That is to say, an accident.
"These signs are too complex and elusive," Celesta remarked. "Even the greatest prophets take time to see them."
"I think that with your experience, a week is enough," Tulak said. "And tonight is included in the deadline."
Celesta rose from her chair, carefully straightening the folds of her cloak.
"In that case, I must hurry. Or does the noble lord who owns fat herds, the lord of ten thousand lancers, wish to throw another gray cloak over the shoulders of a frail woman?"
"No, that's all. I'm not holding you up."
The vampiress, however, said goodbye for another five minutes, taking small steps toward the door and bowing tirelessly, thanking her for the honor and the unspeakable pleasure of the encounter, in full accordance with etiquette. Once over the threshold, she did not think of abandoning her chosen image. The girl threw a hood over her head, completely hiding her face in the shadows, and obediently, with her head down, followed her escort, eyes downcast.
The guards looked at the dangerous guest with heavy stares. Even as she turned the corner, the experienced combatants remained alert and keenly attentive to the creaking of the floorboards. Only when the footsteps fell silent and the creature, wrapped in a heavy cloak, was gone could they relax. Celesta smiled, catching the faint sound of a harmonious sigh. She was still walking with her head down and showed no sign of reacting to the young man in his finery ahead of her. Neither did the latter pay any attention to the woman. He simply nodded in response to a respectful nod from her escort and passed her by without a moment's hesitation.
The moment the young man approached the departing vampiress, he raised his hand, wanting to fix his slightly disheveled hair. A white piece of paper peeked out of the sleeve of his richly embroidered jacket. It appeared and then vanished. With a movement unrecognizable to the human eye, Celesta snatched up the note.
Once outside, the undead habitually glided through the city at night, almost without thinking, choosing darker places. Was she overdoing it? Her chosen style of dealing with Tulak, a stubborn but always taking orders from higher-ups, had its pitfalls. Standing up for the community, she had to be firm. In order not to completely disassociate with the authorities and not to provoke the beginning of a big hunt for the undead, had to show obedience. Balancing between these two states became more and more difficult with each encounter.
Even undead's sensitive eyes did not allow her to read in total darkness. Once she was briefly in the streak of starlight, she glanced over the informant's note and, smiling at the corners of her lips, changed her route. Everyone has weaknesses that can easily be exploited by enemies, and the living has many more such weaknesses than the undead. It is easier to control the young than the old and experienced. It's a shame that Tulak doesn't understand that.
Same-sex love among aristocrats was not considered something objectionable, but with a very serious reservation. The principle of hierarchy was always respected. If an aristocrat showed a tender interest in a boy of a less noble clan, it was normal in public opinion, or at least it was not censured out loud. But when a vassal sought the favor of his liege lord's son... Such an act was considered the cruelest breach of the chain of command and was punished accordingly. So Tulak should have been more careful in choosing a lover. But either the baron had lost his head from passion - which is unlikely - or he had decided that the omnipotent chancellor's right hand could ignore certain traditions, or his arrogance had simply overpowered him. Either way, he turned his eyes to a young nobleman from a poor family, but one that stood far higher in the table of ranks than his own.
Although the young man, who did not want to endanger his family, had to move into the baron's house and share his bed with him, he still felt insulted.
The rest was a matter of technique. As a result of a simple intrigue, Celesta gained ears close to Tulak, and now knew the plans of her insidious leadership a little sooner than they were voiced aloud. A very pleasant advantage.
Now, having received valuable new instructions and learned something else, she decided that she needed Latham. And it was urgent. For some assignments involving work among the nobility, Celesta could either send her self-appointed bodyguard, or go herself, and no one else. The others simply couldn't cope. Even Medea, for all her acting abilities, would not be able to act properly from a position of power.
From the moment he was born in Darkness, Latham became a kind of representative of Celesta to the Taleyan Security Service. The spider officers did not dare to insult him, and his high lifetime status allowed him to navigate in matters of high politics and, if necessary, resolve disputes directly with the aristocrats. True, at first he was almost executed, and the initiative came from the younger brother, the new heir of the family, but the mistress defended the newcomer. She never regretted the effort, gaining one of her most loyal associates.
Right now Latham was in the underground catacombs near the center of the city. From here he could easily get to the central Security building, where he had to go on business more often than the other undead, or quickly go to any part of the city. It was also the base for the vampires under his command - living room, training room, armory, artifact, and elixir storeroom. The latter was not often used, but periodically the need for additional trump cards arose. Sometimes against monsters, more often against humans...
"Messena," Latham bowed in a ceremonial bow as Celeste entered his room. She had always admired the way he had managed to combine asceticism and luxury in the decoration of his chambers, and now she could not deny herself the pleasure of looking around again. A simple table of precious wood, a discreet rug of staggering value on the wall, weapons hanging, a cabinet of books and maps. Even death does not always release from the past...
"Hello, Latham," Celesta nodded, taking a seat in the armchair. "Anything to please me?"
"Rather upset you, Messena," the man pulled glasses and a jug of wine from the wall cupboard. "Panari has resigned."
"First Kars, then Rittarian, now Panari..." Undead leaned back. "The First Department could be considered non-existent. But that was the point, wasn't it? I hope Master has learned from the fortunes of his predecessors, and that he has gone into hiding in time."
"As far as I know, yes." Latham served Celesta a glass on a tray and sat down next to her, just waiting for her to sip her drink. "Why else would Laar make a fuss about escorting me out of the building?"
"Yes, if Panari talks ... But it's good that the Service is not interested in us right now. I've got the news, too, and it's not pleasant either. We've been ordered to remove Baron Kapara."
Latham froze in stony stillness, only his eyes reddened. Celesta smiled dryly. Her fangs gleamed for a moment.
"Exactly. The Chancellor decided to get rid of the internal opposition and at the same time to slightly round out the possessions."
"A deadline?" The vampire pulled himself together.
"One week, including tonight. So, if the Baron does not delay, he may well have time to leave the capital, and I can say with a clear conscience that there was nothing I could do. But keep in mind - we must not be suspected."
"Thank you, Messena."
"Nonsense," Celesta shrugged off. "When will your group be ready to move out? Too many people know about this place and in light of what's about to happen..."
She made a vague gesture, indicating something unpleasant and unavoidable. Latham glanced longingly around the room, realizing that he couldn't wait any longer and would have to leave the place that had been his home for nearly a hundred years.
He could no longer ignore the permutations taking place at court and in the Secret Service. Loyalty to the throne also has its limits. A liege lord must look after the interests of his vassals, giving them support and protection in return for their faithless service. He may demand their lives - it is his legal right. But he must not in passing tarnish the honor of those whose ancestors have served his clan faithfully for thousands of years, and that is exactly what the current ruler is doing. Irrhan drew the young clansmen closer to him, and the young clansmen who were not too dignified. Latham despised fussy temporaries, preoccupied with family well-being and oblivious to true values. For the time being, however, he turned a blind eye to their presence near the royal person.
The Overlady is right - one can't wait any longer.
Practically we're ready now, Messena. Everything truly valuable has been packed up and moved to the lower levels, only the essentials remain here.
"And your collection?" Celesta nodded at the weapons hanging on the wall.
"Fakes. Their disappearance would raise questions, and there are too many officers of the guard visiting my place."
"Aren't they afraid to visit the lair of the "favorite of Darkness"?" the mistress asked with a smile.
"There are few outright cowards among them, but many do tremble when they get acquainted," said Latham thoughtfully. "I have to admit that the quality of "spiders" has been deteriorating in the last twenty years. And I don't mean the ability to work with agents or experience so much as purely personal qualities. Will, intelligence, endurance, flexibility, the ability to quickly analyze the situation. Personally, I attribute this to the negative cadre selection that has developed under the current Son of the Sea. Although... the first signs of decadence appeared under his father. He was the first to appoint a man unfamiliar with the job of head of the Secret Guard. I have nothing bad to say about the late Count Maulvlar, he was a faithful servant of the throne, but he did not know the basics. Generals are supposed to lead armies in the field - secret warfare is not for them!"
Undead are easily controlled by facial expressions, so it was easy for Celesta to suppress a smile. It was amusing to listen to the former aristocrat, who had once despised all secrecy, talk about the peculiarities of detective work. How hard it had cost her in her time to convince him that to act in the usual way, with an open visor, in the new life was impossible! And now:
"Just think of his suggestion to finance the residents directly from official funds! Well, let's assume that it would work with some savages, but in Lanak or Archipelago the spending of foreigners is regularly checked, and if the authorities see unrecorded income, they immediately pass the data to our colleagues. Or an attempt to start a file cabinet of personal informants? A dozen of the most experienced officers resigned before Molvlar gave up on his idea."
"But what is happening now is out of the question. Never before have the resources of the Guard been used to satisfy personal needs. Officers clearly distinguished between their own and the officials, and if they got confused, there was always someone to restrain them. Usually among the comrades, on special occasions, the allied structures intervened. Now there are people on high posts who are shamelessly using the rights bestowed upon them for their enrichment! And those who are supposed to watch over them only encourage crime!"
Latham placed his glass abruptly on the table, nearly shattering the thin glass.
"I'm sorry, Messena. I am sick of it. Just now, on the way here, a lowlife asked me if the undead really rendered certain services for payment. Confuse me with a paid assassin!"
The armrests of the chair cracked, crushed to a pulp by the vampire's fingers. Celesta stared at the servant, trying in vain to suppress his rage, and mentally marveled at the unknown idiot. What kind of man would dare ask Latham something like that? It was such a fairy-tale stupidity that she hadn't even expected to face it.
"Is he alive?" After waiting for the anger to subside a little, the undead woman asked in a profane tone.
"I think so far, yes. I felt too squeamish at first, and that jerk managed to hide in the office. I cursed him through the door."
After a little thought, Celesta shrugged philosophically. Death had not prevented her assistant from making active use of some of the family's abilities - quite the contrary. The curse might have had already been working, and the slimy corpse was now being hastily scraped off the floor by the janitors. Even if the "author" is found, he is hardly in any danger. Insult is washed away with blood, and no aristocrat would consider it necessary to challenge a member of the lower class. Caste solidarity in this case would protect the murderer completely.
The magic has weakened, but the Word of the ancient clans has not lost its power. However, it was used less often.
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