“We knew we’d make some people unhappy when we went into Deijin’s Descent,” I said. “That Delve wasn’t the most combat-focused, but we were under threat the entire time we were in there. I’m still spending every second of every day looking for the next trap, the next monster, the next piece of furniture that’s going to try and take my head off. I’m sure the whole party is looking over their shoulders as well, and have no illusions that everyone we’ll be meeting is a friend.”
“It’s a tough way to live,” said Celeritia. “But it helps me relax to hear you say that.”
“Relax?” I said. “That’s an interesting word choice.”
The king took a sip of his tea. “How so?”
“It implies our safety is a source of anxiety for you. I didn’t expect a man of your station would have the time to worry about people you don’t know.”
The king’s teacup clinked as he sat it back on its saucer. He searched my face as he chewed over my answer.
“I know the Ravvenblaqs quite well,” he said.
“But you’re not chatting with Varrin right now.”
“He isn’t the party leader of Fortune’s Folly.”
“True,” I admitted. “Still, if you were solely worried about Varrin’s safety, you could have him leave my party with a single command. You could bundle him up with the best and brightest Hiwardians in his level range.”
“You may be overestimating the number of Delvers knocking around with your group’s amount of talent. I could order Varrin to be joined at the hip with a much higher-level group, but I wouldn’t want to stunt his growth like that.” Celeritia grinned. “I’ll stop being a contrarian with you,” he said. “I do have an interest in seeing your party–everyone in your party–stay alive.”
“Would you think of me as a cynic if I asked why?”
“A certain level of cynicism is healthy if you’re trying to survive the path you’re walking.” The king smiled bitterly. “It would be juvenile to assume it’s out of the goodness of my heart, though, so it’s a reasonable question. I’m more likely to think of you as naive for asking me so directly, but only if you’re planning to take my answer at face value. I get the impression you won’t do that.”
There was a pause in the conversation inviting me to respond, but the king hadn’t answered my question. He watched me closely while I waited for him to continue, then nodded to himself.
“Hiward has several interests that intersect with your party,” he said. “First, it sets a bad precedent when Delvers are killed by their peers for being too successful. We already have enough nobles wasting their potential chasing down Copper and Silver. If I didn’t use my authority to ensure everyone’s playing nicely, there would be a lot more infighting. People don’t need another reason to fear accomplishment.
“Both the Xor’Drels and Eschendur are Hiwardian allies,” he continued. “There’s some political favor to be earned from ensuring you’re treated well by the Kingdom. It would also be damaging to the Kingdom’s relationship with those powers if a Hiwardian assassinated you.
“Your party is generating a lot of actionable intelligence for Hiward, as well. Varrin has been passing along many of your discoveries, something I’m told he’s been doing with your full permission.”
“The whole party has supported divulging information on threats and countermeasures,” I said. “To be clear, we’re not planning on limiting ourselves to Hiward. I think we need every nation up to speed when it comes to the avatars and this Brae’ach guy we just found out about. We’ve had a convenient way to interface with Hiward, so we availed ourselves of it.”
“I believe in sharing,” said the king. “I won’t argue for you to cut anyone out, even Litta, so long you aren’t spilling any Hiwardian secrets. I also expect there are things you’re keeping to yourselves, which is tenable. No one knows for sure how your party rose to power so quickly, and–while I’d love an answer to that question–I’m not here to try and extract that from you.”
“I believe that also constitutes another interest Hiward has in our party,” I said.
“True,” said Celeritia. “I’ve assembled a group to investigate your progress and build choices. If you die before we’ve cracked that nut, we’d miss out on some useful institutional knowledge.”
“Should I anticipate an interview request?”
“Would you accept one?”
“Probably not.”
The king shrugged. “They have access to a lot of information and have some theories they’re working with. Revelations, for example, are an unquantifiable source of power, but we know they exist and can have a sizable impact on a Delver’s capability. It’s clear your party has more than one revelator, but I don’t think it completes the puzzle.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Again, that’s not why I’m here. If I keep talking about it, you’ll think I’m fishing for information. I am, of course, but there’s no reason for me to be overbearing about it.”
“I appreciate that,” I said with some uncertainty.
The king was using a strategy I was quite fond of, which was to extract information by being upfront about wanting to extract it. This differed from ‘just asking’ since a question was never asked, the desire for information was merely stated. It matched up with the king’s choice of a handshake since it was a fairly neutral way to approach things. If I chose not to volunteer anything, then it wasn’t a refusal, since I was never directly queried.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
The approach was charming when used correctly. It implied I was being seen as an equal and not someone who could be bossed around. The king was also using it to insinuate that I was ‘too smart’ to toy with. Rather than trying to subtly manipulate me into talking, it dispensed with the trickery and boldly stated the unspoken question. That was its own form of manipulation, albeit one that hit me right in my vanity.
Never directly asking anything also downplayed the importance of what the king was trying to learn. After all, if he cared that much why would he be so cavalier? Combine all of that with the fact that honesty naturally invited reciprocation, and the technique was more effective than most would give it credit for.
I was pretty unforgiving once I detected false sincerity, so it was a good approach to take with me. No doubt I was giving away more than I wanted to just by being in the king’s presence, but I wasn’t going to openly confirm any of his suspicions about the things I’d rather stay hidden. Some of our secrets would make potent bargaining chips. There was no reason to give them up for free.
“Two more reasons you’ve caught my eye,” said the king. “Then I’ll stop laying cards on the table. The information we’re getting out of Timagrin is consistent with your story about the avatars and the Davahn, Brae’ach. Every time I say that name I feel like I’m about to sneeze, by the way.”
“It would be close to the same sound.”
“I think you’re right,” the king said. “If we assume that divine avatars will start interfering with our lives more than they already have, then we need every weapon we can get our hands on pointed in their direction. To be blunt, you and yours are a long way from fighting beside the real powerhouses, but I’d be an idiot not to see your potential. Even if you can’t take it directly to the avatars, there appears to be a whole army of Davahns you can fight instead.”
“And the final reason?” I asked.
“This one’s the most selfish, but I really do have a soft spot for talented up-and-comers. I’d be very sad if you died in a stupid way.”
What a sweet old man. Of course, that’s what he wanted me to think. I still thought it, regardless.
“I appreciate the concern,” I said. “Our main goal right now is to keep doing what we’re doing. We need to work on our intrinsics, and then get back to grinding out levels. Anything you can do to help shield us from bad actors while we go about the business of Delving is warmly welcomed and appreciated.
“In regards to information, we plan to keep passing along whatever we uncover that’s relevant to whoever is willing to listen. Reciprocation on that front would be fantastic, but our willingness to cooperate isn’t conditioned on it. As far as fighting an army of Davahns, I’d need to take the party’s pulse on that one. I expect we’d take any requests to protect civilians seriously.”
“You’re not too bad at this,” said Celeritia. “One of my attendants briefed me on your personality, but you never know until you meet someone. Some people lose their minds when the king shows up.”
“I’ll take the compliment.”
“There’s usually more groveling as well. And a lot more please and thank yous. Some prostrating and proclamations of eternal servitude.”
“I’ll politely decline to grovel or commit myself to a lifetime of free labor. If you prefer that I act more formally, I’m happy to do so.”
“Ha! No, please don’t.”
The king stood and wandered to the bar, perusing the selection of cheeses on offer. He settled on a square of asiago and chewed it thoughtfully.
“The Davahns pushed two hundred miles into Timagrin,” he said, poking through the mixed nuts. “They killed everyone on sight, and the only prisoners they took were Delvers. Their progress stopped at Canotha, where they established an operating base. Everyone in Canotha was already dead from the mana eruption caused by Orexis and Anesis. From the accounts I’ve heard, that was a better fate than what the Davahns would have delivered to them.
“We assume that Canotha’s population was culled in anticipation of their arrival, but we don’t have any hard proof. The Davahns didn’t make landfall in Timagrin until months after the eruption, which makes it look more like an invasion of opportunity. However, while the eruption was highly lethal, it wasn’t physically destructive. All of the structures in the city were preserved, and the Timans couldn’t reclaim the land due to the lingering mana levels. It was a major city with no inhabitants, and it made a perfect home for the invading army."
“They aren’t affected by the mana?” I asked.
“The levels are too high for mundane people, but tolerable for Delvers. The army marching with Brae’ach seems unaffected, which is… concerning. They may have an extraordinary mana resistance, or they may each have something equivalent to a few Delver levels under their belt. If it’s the latter, then the Davahns have the global Delver population outnumbered.”
I had trouble digesting that information. The king gave me a few seconds, then gracefully continued without mentioning that I looked like I was about to shit myself.
“After the Davahns were camped out there for a month, we scried another enormous build-up of mana, several times larger than the eruption that wiped out Canotha. It persisted for a week, then disappeared, along with the Davahns.”
“Disappeared?” I said. “The whole army?”
Celeritia nodded. “Any sort of long-range surveillance we have can’t find them. Even our diviners haven’t had any success. We’ve sent a few Delver teams in alongside the Timans but lost contact with all of them. We suspect the Davahns are still there, hiding until they’re ready to move on.” The king turned toward me and leaned back against the counter. “We’re evaluating the merits of a full military deployment in support of Timagrin, but I’m not willing to send thousands of regular soldiers into that area without more information. For the moment, the conflict is stalled.”
“At least they aren’t actively committing genocide,” I said. “For now.”
“Cold comfort,” said the king. “The information you brought back on Brae’ach and his involvement with the avatars gave us some much-needed context and confirmed some of our suspicions. It’s possible one of the godlings is shielding them from view somehow, or that this is some part of the magicks Brae’ach has access to. Something we haven’t seen before. I don’t want to give the Davahns time to build up to another advance, but sending troops in blind could be a disaster.
“We’re quietly moving people in and helping the Timans fortify regions around Canotha. However, I won’t leave Hiward without significant defenses. There’s only so many resources I’m willing to commit.” He pushed away from the counter, walked forward, and placed his hands on the back of the couch. “I don’t think your group belongs in that mess right now. I’m satisfied knowing that you’ll keep progressing as you have. I’ll set Varrin up with an official liaison to exchange information moving forward. No need for one of the Ealdrics to keep breaking into Umi-Doo’s office.”
“I’m sure Director Umi-Doo will appreciate that.”
The king nodded and came around to plop back down on the couch.
“Now,” he said. “Let’s talk about your upcoming meeting with the Littans.”