"I suppose I am just not seeing 'relocate everyone to live in the sewers' as the brilliant, tactical masterstroke you seem to suggest it is."

Tension burned in the air between the Mayor and his Secretary. All of Swinford knew the two enjoyed a somewhat informal back-and-forth, but the relationship had taken a turn for the worse since their return from the disastrous Council of the West.

Rumours of what had occurred in that Village were rife, but the fact that the West was now in open rebellion against the King could not be denied. Ensuring the City of Swinford was prepared for the storm about to fall upon them was clearly placing great strain on a previously strong relationship.

"Unfortunately, my Lord," Donal said, tapping a stylus against his impossibly white teeth, "whilst we all appreciate your sterling efforts to follow the logic of my argument, I do wonder if your time would be better spent actioning the plan as opposed to wrestling with complexities beyond you. We each have our strengths, after all."

There was an awkward silence during which everyone in the small group convened to convene at the entrance to Swinford's warren of underground sewers tried not to make eye contact.

"Master Secretary, did you just call me stupid?" Taelsin's voice was dangerously low.

"Not at all, my Lord. I merely pointed out that every moment I spend explaining and reexplaining my thinking to you is a moment lost in the protection of the City. I did not mean to suggest you were slow, merely that I am a genius."

"There was a time," Lady Gerol noted with a sniff she instantly regretted this close to the entrance to the sewer, "when the help would be executed for speaking to a Lord in that way."

"Very true." Donal beamed back at her, "I imagine that was around the time every Noble paid thirteen pounds of gold each six months for the upkeep of the City's walls. As luck would have it, I have my ledgers here. Shall I see how much House Gerol has paid in the last six months? In the last twelve? Indeed, I wonder, if we counted up all your House's contributions to the rebuild and repair of the infrastructure of Swinford for the last twenty years, if we would have enough gold to hire a particularly expensive whore. Although, if rumour is to be believed, your husband . . ."

"Enough. Donal. You will be silent." Taelsin's voice boomed around the gathering as the older woman gaped in shock. "My apologies, Lady Gerol. My Secretary does not speak for me in this matter. No one questions House Gerol's commitment to the City's well-being."

"Well, at the very least, no one questions Lord Gerol's commitment to the well-being of the City's prostitutes."

"Be quiet!" Taelsin's face reddened with anger. "Is it not enough that you disrespect me? That you thwart my will? That you undermine me at every turn? Now you must also besmirch the reputations of my oldest friends. Lady Gerol, please accept my apologies."

The elderly woman glared daggers at Donal. "I have long told you, Taelsin, my boy, that nothing good will come from consorting with the likes of this Class. Your father needed nothing more than the advice of his Nobles to run the City, and we can all agree he did a fine job."

The other Nobles in the party nodded their sage agreement. This Secretary had long been a thorn in their side in gaining influence over young Taelsin Elm. This developing fissure between them was one they were keen, nay positively eager, to exploit. "But from the first moment you let this viper poison your ear, well . . . I don't like to say it, boy, but Swinford is not the City it once was."

As if sensing the momentum moving away from him, Donal raised his voice in frustration. "My Lord, our City will soon come under siege by the King's Army. Each of us have our own sources that put the day of attack from a week to a month. But that siege will arrive, and it will be catastrophic. From what I hear, the King has placed Great General Souit in command of his forces. I am sure we are all well aware of his impressive reputation. Certainly, he has cracked harder nuts than Swinford in the recent past. Thus, we need to consider how we can best protect our population. Some of the few sections of our walls that are in decent shape are those within the sewer network. I imagine even the most venal of our Nobles would baulk at effluence swimming in the streets. If we want our people to have a chance to survive the coming assault, it makes perfect sense for us to make use of that resource."

"My Lord, do we need to listen to this drivel further? You asked us to accompany you to hear this scheme, and we have done so. I, for one, will not move one member of my House belowground. I doubt you will find a single Noble left in the City who will agree to such a ludicrous suggestion. And, what is more, I find myself unable to tolerate the presence of this . . . gentleman any further."

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Taelsin glared at Donal one final time and then sighed. "I agree, Lady Gerol. Once again, I am sorry for the words of my Secretary. He had suggested this would be a solution to our problems, but I now see it as yet another opportunity for him to show off. Please, would you excuse us, and I will join you aboveground shortly."

"So, I take it we will not be moving the population belowground, then, Taelsin?" The speaker, a portly Minor Noble named Lord Olrun, barely kept the sneer out of his voice.

"No, my Lord. I am sorry to have wasted your time. Guards, close up the entrance. Nothing more needs to be done here. We shall entertain this folly no longer. Now, I must have a word with my staff. Can I please join you shortly?"

The Nobles graciously nodded their approval and withdrew to more fragrant air, leaving just Taelsin and Donal behind.

The two glared at each other in silence for a few moments.

"My Lord, you are a truly lousy actor for an outstanding politician."

Taelsin rolled his eyes. "Me? You appear to have transformed into some sort of second-rate villain from one of the more fantastical scrolls. I kept half expecting you to twirl your moustache and cackle."

"To speak plain, my Lord, I worried that should we be too subtle, the trap would not be sufficiently bated. We are not dealing with the premier intellects of the age here."

"What trap?" Both men jumped at her voice as Daine approached from the shadows. "I must say, I have just passed the smuggest group of Nobles I have seen in a long time. They are all, loudly, of the opinion Donal's days are numbered."

"My Lady Darkhelm, I trust you are well?" Taelsin dipped his head in a bow.

"You find me as well as I find you, I imagine."

Each took in the exhaustion of the other and smiled in recognition.

"I, on the other hand, am positively brimming with vim, vigour, piss and vinegar. If I may continue outlining my scheme, my Lord? My Lady? I do so love the scheming."

Taelsin sighed and nodded for Donal to proceed.

"Thank you. As you are aware, we have known for some time that the King has been far too well-appraised of our preparations for the coming siege. We had, of course, made efforts to stem the usual communication methods, but some reasonably sensitive information continued to flow outwards."

Daine rubbed her hand down her face. "You speak, Master Secretary, as if most of those 'efforts' did not involve me throwing people out of windows."

"Well, quite. A startlingly efficient method of interrogation I wished I had stumbled upon centuries earlier. Think of the wear and tear I would have saved on knives. Well, never mind. Moving right along. Through several well-placed rumours, we have identified that the leaks must come from within the ranks of the few Nobles who have remained within the City."

"The majority of my fellow Nobles, of course, having fled at the first sign of trouble, taking with them all the food, water, and manpower they could sneak out of the City." Taelsin's voice was bitter.

"Indeed. The rats have abandoned this entirely seaworthy vessel — see, I can be good for morale — and we must assume that those chosen to remain are either your staunchest allies or your most vicious opponents. Hence today's little game."

"And what was the outcome?"

"Well, that will rather depend, my Lady, on which of those present decides to leak news of the break in relationship between Taelsin and myself. Oh, and which of them gives the heads-up to the small attack squad we have identified hiding on the outskirts of the City? It is now apparent it will be safe to make ingress through the sewers."

"I assume I am here because further defenestrations await me?"

Taelsin and Donal exchanged a look. "Not quite, Lady Darkhelm," Mayor Elm began, "we would like you to . . ." and then he stopped.

Donal rolled his eyes. "My Master feels he is overstepping in this request. I've explained Knights of the Road like nothing more than the opportunity to bloody some noses. He's doing you a favour, truth be told."

Daine looked at the two of them and could not help but smile. There were few people in this world — or, to be fair, the next — whom she would call friends. But she felt very close to the Mayor and his Secretary.

During their journey back from the Village, she had greatly enjoyed their company. As a Knight of the Road, she had made a virtue of her isolation, enjoying relying on no one but herself. However, in the last month, her eyes had been opened to a world of friendship she would be loath to leave behind. These two, Kirstin, Eliud and, of course, Genoes. They were the new family she had forged for herself, and there was very little she would not do in order to keep them all safe.

"Taelsin, what would you have me do? I promised Eliud that Swinford will still be standing when he returns with Genoes, and I mean to keep that vow."

At the mention of the Duskstrider, a touch more vibrancy entered Mayor Elm's eyes. "Have you heard anything from him? We know he entered the Capital, but our spies have very little else to share."

"I am afraid not, my Lord."

"The Goddess . . . ?" Donal asked delicately.

"Is being Her usual ineffable self. The best I can say is that She does not seem overly alarmed by the current situation. If anything untoward has happened to Eliud, Kirstin or Genoes, then She is not worried about it.”

"That is not really as comforting as could be hoped."

"Welcome to my existence."

Donal shrugged. "Well, worrying about it won't make much difference. We're waiting for the Pendragon to appear and pull our feet from the fire. Any situation he has encountered with which he cannot cope is going to be beyond our ability to help. We'd be wiser to focus on our own problems and hope he gets here in time."

Daine nodded. "I told him to meet us here. I am at your disposal."

Donal clapped and put a hand on Daine's shoulder, leading her towards one particularly aromatic grate. "Excellent. Well, if our little charade with the Nobles has worked as we hope, we are probably going to need someone of your Skills in the very near future. The big question is, I guess, whether we can find any watertight clothing in your size."