You’d think I’d know by now that nothing is ever that simple. Tossing out a few Heal spells during a night visit to the cat village was one thing, but it turned out when you wanted to offer the same to close to two hundred people—because, understandably given what they’d been through, more of the wolves than otherwise requested healing once I made it clear that no issue was too small—in the middle of the forest, you had to get actual logistics involved.
Fortunately I had Rath Kadora, who knew his people, and Zui, who knew how to organize people. We rapidly turned the glade into an impromptu campground; given its occasional use as a meeting space there was even some basic infrastructure in the form of old firepits buried under the snow and a designated latrine area down at the far end. I was able to repeat my trick from Kzidnak of using fire slimes as impromptu camp fires, though I had to Windburst the snow away first as conjuring one in the middle of a snowbank would only have killed it as it flash-melted its surroundings and then was immediately doused. The wolves all clearly thought this was weird, but were grateful for the warmth.
Even so, the project itself didn’t take all that long once it was organized; even that mostly amounted to triage and setting up waiting areas where there was some warmth. I was a one-person bottleneck, being the sole provider of Heal, but casting the spell itself took less than a second and barely any effort.
Getting the chance to meet most of the entire tribe, however briefly, was enlightening, mostly with regard to the amount of trouble I was about to have. Oh, I saw a lot of gratitude—and interestingly, none of the suspicion I’d met in my first forays into Cat Alley. I guess it made a big difference that my ulterior motive was known up front. But gratitude, yes; I unquestionably saved many of their lives, chiefly among their very young and old. Dozens of them had been suffering from the early stages of at least three distinct kinds of diseases, which made me think of the zombies and understand better why Rhydion was so insistent on not going near that without a dedicated healer along.
Gratitude and little suspicion, but no shortage of hostility. Not among all or even most, but…enough. None of them were ungrateful enough not to thank me, but enough glared and had nothing to say other than a terse “thanks” that I suspected the only reason they weren’t going for weapons was the fact that Rath Kadora himself loomed at my shoulder, artifact spear in hand.
That, and they’d just seen me light a man on fire with my mind.
“I hope you will not take offense, Dark Lord,” Rath Kadora rumbled, this being his first comment to me after the last of his people had been Healed. “They mean no ill. We have had a hard span of days.”
“Plus,” I agreed quietly, “they’re not stupid enough not to know whose fault it is your village burned. And they just saw me kill their shaman.”
“Oh, not just that,” he grunted. “You extinguished the shamanic tradition.”
“Hm. How much of a problem is that going to be?”
He dismissively waved one hand. “It’s happened before. Foolish practice, keeping their methods secret and tied to one bloodline. In the past, another shaman essentially proclaimed themselves, and went about learning medicine from scratch and their predecessor’s leavings. Usually trading for secrets from the goblins and squirrelfolk. Not like the role of chief warrior. I can be confident that there are plenty of candidates for my successor. One day I will be older and too weak and one will overthrow me, and the tribe will still have a strong leader. Nor does it matter that my child isn’t interested in the role. It’s a simple system. Simple works.”
“Yeah, I bet that’s nice,” I sighed. “Simple stops working when you’ve got more complicated systems to organize.”
“You should find ways to simplify them, then.”
I gave him a speculative look. His lupine features were a tad hard to read, but he didn’t appear to be mocking or trying to undermine me. Of course, he might just be really good at deadpan, but that was fine, it’d just mean he would fit in very well.
“That’s good advice. See, you’re already pulling your weight. So, tell me about the squirrels and the zombies.”
He curled his upper lip, and damn those teeth made that expression look immediately threatening despite the contextual evidence that it was merely contemptuous. I took note that even while talking with me, and distracted by his apparent annoyance at squirrels, he kept up constant, slow movements of his head, keeping watch over his tribe.
They were all arranged in the clearing now, with my crusaders moving among them. I’d had them bring some basic supplies; there was no point in setting up a full camp with hot food and everything when we were just a few hours’ walk from North Watch (assuming it would take longer to get back than it had to get here, with this many vulnerable people along). Still, a light and temporary camp gave my people the opportunity to distribute the trail food they’d brought, and the hot tea that had been brewed over fire slimes while I was Healing everyone. I had to give the Fflyr credit, their overly-strong, spicy-sweet tea was just the thing to get a cold body moving.
“I don’t know what has happened to the squirrels or on their land, nor do I care. They’ve never shifted their fluffy tails to help anyone else. Their village is high in the khora, well off the ground. It was probably destroyed entirely in the Inferno. No loss to Dount, that.”
“Perhaps not.” Both of us shifted to regard Velaven, who had drawn closer and now spoke up. The rest of my spirit bond—and also Jessak, who seemed less nervous about my presence than being surrounded by wolves without my protection—had also stayed nearby. No one had offered me any violence or even rudeness, but they made for a visibly impressive bodyguard, which couldn’t go amiss with this many unknowns standing around. “The Inferno traveled along the root networks of single khora megastructures, I believe? The squirrel tribe’s village is up in the branches of a large stand of nhithra khora. There are only a few stands of that species on the island—very tall and very sturdy. It makes a good landmark, visible for a limn in every direction so people know not to approach them by accident. But there are none anywhere near North Watch. The village itself was probably unaffected, though its outskirts were doubtless singed.”
“Hnh.” Rath Kadora didn’t bother to not look disappointed. “Well, anyway. No word from them, just undead trampling the forest from the direction of their land.”
“You suggested these zombies didn’t seem to be acting in a directed manner?” I asked.
The wolfman nodded. “Like wild animals, but stupider. They stumble about, attacking whatever they happen to see. Even each other, sometimes. No sign of pack behavior or any awareness of one another. Most are slow and feeble, but we learned painfully not to assume that. A few seem more…complete. They move very fast and are hard to put down. None of the weak points a living person would have.”
“These zombies,” said Velaven, now staring at him intently, “how fresh were they? Well-rotted corpses, or recently dead? And dead of what race? Were there any squirrels or other beastfolk among them?”
I slowly turned my head to give her a pointed stare.
“Identifying the dead used will help discern the nature of this threat, my lord,” she said in an apologetic tone, inclining her head. I noted Aster and Zui both giving her long looks as well. “It is good news if they are all older; corpses being freshly raised indicate whoever has raised them is actively working and likely on the verge of deploying them toward some purpose. Also, the Fflyr burn their dead, as do the local forest tribes. If this witch is using only old, interred corpses… Well, she must be on the verge of running out of materials; there is a dearth of such on Dount. This could indicate a near end to the threat, or the reverse if she decides to transition to acquiring fresh subjects.”
“Huh, makes sense,” Rath Kadora rumbled. “I don’t know about freshness, but every zombie we’ve seen was rotted enough to be obvious for what it was. Nothing I would mistake for a living person at a glance, even if I couldn’t smell them. Now you mention it, I saw no tails on any of them, and only short skulls. Humans, or maybe elves; not many had intact ears to check, not that I would’ve bothered. I fought many of them, but not all. Hey, Drun! The Dark Lord has questions.”
“I heard, father.” Another wolf approached at his call, a young woman carrying a spear, with a bow and quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder. Not artifacts, in her case. The resemblance was apparent; she was tall, though not as tall as Rath Kadora, and her pelt was the same gray-and-brown mottled pattern as his, though her highlights were more blonde where his were reddish. “I can’t say I fought every zombie that you didn’t manage to, but between us we probably saw most of them. And yes, I saw the same. Old corpses, all human or maybe elf. Except they weren’t all original corpses, I don’t think,” she added, golden eyes narrowing in thought. “Not like I was curious enough to cut into them and check, but I suspect some—the slower, dumber ones, especially—were stitched together from different parts. Did you tell them about the smell, father?”
“Ah, yes.” He nodded, turning back to me. “This is why I ask the girl things. They stink of rot, obviously, but they also smell like alchemists. Like herbs, soap, and alcohol.”
“Now that is encouraging news, Lord Seiji,” said Velaven. “Undead usually mean Void magic, but they can be made through alchemy. Obviously, an alchemist—even an extremely advanced one—is much less dangerous than a Void witch.”
“The squirrels like alchemy,” Zui piped up. “Sneppit’s company has occasionally traded with them, mostly for Youda’s sake. They’re good at harvesting reagents from the khora, and they mostly want other stuff we can only get from underground, all for alchemy.”
“Well, well, a picture begins to form,” I mused. I wondered how much of this Rhydion knew. He’d been actively working at the problem for weeks while I was ignoring it, so it was dubious how much of a head start this would give me, but every possible bit of leverage would help when I went to approach him.
“My daughter, Drun,” Rath Kadora added, grinning. “Demonstrating the reason I bother to feed her. She’s managed not to stab her own foot while hunting—recently—but let’s say it’s a good thing she inherited her mother’s brains.”
“You’d best shut that mouth before someone does it for you, old man,” the younger wolf retorted. Without venom, though; it was clear this was a playful dynamic.
“That would be Drun Kadora to you, my lord,” Velaven murmured, leaning closer to my ear. “Use of the first name alone is only between family members, unless the intent is to be extremely provocative. And used toward an unattached female, it might be taken as a suggestion I don’t believe you intend.”
Now even Nazralind was frowning at her. Jessak did a better job of keeping her thoughts away from her face but she kept glancing at the dark elf sidelong.
“We’re not completely stupid, you know,” Drun Kadora said before I could reply. She had been studying my entourage with more interest than she showed me, seeming particularly curious about Jessak, but now fixed her attention on Velaven. “If a human makes the most common and obvious cultural mistake we encounter, I’m not gonna immediately assume he wants to start a fight or marry me.”
“You’ll have to excuse Velaven,” I said, “we’re still housebreaking her. I’ll want to talk more about the zombies, but let’s not keep your people standing around in the cold. If we move out now, we can be back at North Watch by noon, easily. Just to let you know, we can house some of your people in the fortress itself, and in fact I want to make sure you are represented among my core forces to make sure your tribe has a presence and a say, but most are going to have to stay in Kzidnak. It’s the only place we’ve found room enough for everyone. At least until we get your village repaired and resupplied.”
“The goblin city, huh?” Drun Kadora tilted her head inquisitively, ears straight upright. “That’ll be interesting. You actually got humans to go underground? I thought they were terrified of that.”
“Hush, girl,” Rath Kadora said curtly. “What’s that about our village? It’s a nice thought, Dark Lord, but do you think we’d have left it in the winter if it was going to be that easy to restore?”
“I’m unwilling to sacrifice a fortified position securing that entire section of the forest,” I replied, “and you shouldn’t have to give up your home. You’ll have to share it, going forward, but I don’t believe my people will be much of an imposition on you, especially as we’ll have some of yours in our main fortress as well. But yes, I do intend to try. As soon as we have everyone organized and settled in, I mean to send a scouting party there, with some of your hunters to guide and my fighters to help with the zombies, and a craftsman or two to look the place over and see what’s needed to put it right.”
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“I’m telling you—”
“And I believe you,” I took the risk of interrupting, eager to finish this conversation so we could get back on the move. “What was a daunting task for a tribe of people dealing with a host of compounding problems may look very different to a bigger, more prepared group. We have ample stored resources for construction, after clearing all the khora away from North Watch’s walls. We also have numerous Fflyr craftsmen and goblin engineers alike who love a challenge, and plenty of fighters able to stand around protecting them while they work. Plus stores of food to keep them going while the work is being done. Now, if you’d had all that, do you think you could have re-fortified your village?”
“Hm,” he grunted after a moment’s thought, ears twitching. “Maybe so, at that. Very well, Dark Lord, it shall be as you say. You lead, we’ll follow.”
----------------------------------------
Fortunately I had the likes of Sneppit and Minifrit to handle the logistical task of integrating all these new arrivals, so the first thing I did back at North Watch after making the necessary introductions was tug my immediate entourage (minus Jessak) into the conference room and shut the door. I had only left it that long because this was the first opportunity to grab a bit of privacy. I did want to be personally present for most of the integration process, but this shouldn’t take long.
“Knees are a privilege,” I recited the second that door was shut. “Cool line, Vel. Very metal. Also, what in the hell? I believe I spoke to you on the subject of going over my head. In fact, I’m positive I was extremely clear about my expectations. You all remember that, right?”
Aster, Nazralind, and Zui all nodded, staring in expectant silence at our guest of honor.
“I apologize most humbly if I preempted your authority, Dark Lord,” Velaven said, bowing deeply. “It was the opposite of my intention. If I may explain?”
I folded my arms. “Please do.”
“It would be a grave mistake to conclude that the wolf tribe governs itself by brute strength alone. A man with Rath Kadora’s personal power and physical advantages could control, optimistically, half a dozen people that way. Force is a potent tool, but of limited and particular application. To maintain control requires more abstract expressions of strength.”
“Velaven, I intend this to be a quick meeting, one way or another. Leave the showtime to me and get to the point, please.”
“Of course, my lord. As you stated, your purpose in denying the honor duel and preserving Rath Kadora’s life was to preserve as much of their political structure as possible, so as to delegate to him and not take on the messy complication of having to lead every wolffolk personally while learning enough of their ways to do so. Correct?”
“Sure,” I nodded, “that. And also, you know, a man’s life.”
“Yes, quite,” she said offhandedly, and I repressed the urge to smack her by reminding myself that I was in no position to judge anyone else’s regard for life. That would’ve been an especially bullshit card to play on a person I had just ordered to execute someone hours ago. “My point is that these honor duels are more of a formality than you may realize. Rath Kadora, like anyone occupying his position, leads by projecting strength, not necessarily by exercising it. His position requires him to constantly reassure his tribe of his power, and dignity. They can feel comforted by knowing he protects them, and project themselves onto his impressive bearing. It is by commanding respect himself that he makes them feel respected.”
She paused for just the right fraction of a second for proper delivery, and despite my command of a moment ago I couldn’t begrudge her just a bit of showtime, not when it was so well done.
“And then you made him kneel in front of all of them.”
I had to chew on the implications for a second. “…ah.”
Velaven nodded. “It was an understandable misstep, my lord, I do not seek to criticize. But the result would have been a major loss of faith in him by his tribe, probably leading to other members seeking to unseat him. Instead of gaining the benefits of political continuity, you would have taken on all the problems you were trying to avoid, plus the difficulty of managing the wolf tribe while they went through an internal power struggle.”
“So,” I murmured, “you made them all kneel.”
Again she nodded. “And so, instead of looking weak, he was setting an example which they all immediately followed. In public presentation, one can reverse the meaning of another party’s recent action, but the window of opportunity is punishingly brief. Again, Lord Seiji, I apologize for speaking out of turn. But you had made your purposes and expectations clear, and there was only that moment to ensure they were met.”
I studied her for a moment, the looked past her at the others. “Thoughts?”
Zui shrugged. “You know me, I like results. It seems to’ve worked.”
“I see no reason to doubt her analysis,” Aster said quietly, regarding Velaven with that expression of hers which said she had other comments, but as she did not immediately make them I continued.
“Well, then, that’s good. Well done, Velaven. However. I made it explicitly clear to you that I did not doubt your capability. That has never been what I need you to prove. What do I need you to prove?”
“Trust,” she said softly, her expression even more inscrutable than usual.
“I know I don’t have to explain this to you of all people, but I’m annoyed and I feel like being condescending so I will anyway: when you jump into a fraught public situation and take action in my name, you’re putting me in the position of either endorsing whatever damn thing it is you just did, or rejecting it and looking like I can’t control my own people. In a lot of such situations, including the one in question, option two would have been a disaster.”
I looked past her again, indulging in a dark little smile.
“You may have noticed that Aster does this shit to me all the time. And y’know what? I’m not having this conversation with her because I trust Aster, both personally and professionally. I have full confidence that she’s on my side, and I know she doesn’t open her mouth in public unless she’s decided it’s necessary—and that she doesn’t make that decision unless she is right.”
Aster mirrored my small smile with slightly less irony.
“You are not Aster,” I continued, staring Velaven down. She met my gaze evenly. “The best thing I can say about your motives is that your self-interest aligns with mine, for the moment. And your judgment is very much in question, Velaven. Do I need to perform a recitation of your various screw-ups and the consequences they’ve had?”
“I would not trouble you so, my lord,” she said. “I believe everyone present recalls all the details.”
Zui snorted.
“So here we are,” I stated. “The outcome of this particular incident…was satisfactory. And that is not the point. You haring off and doing your own thing is part of an established pattern, and something I have told you very explicitly not to do. In the future, Velaven, until I specifically tell you otherwise, in a similar situation you will keep your mouth shut and not act in a way I have not directed, and if that causes me to make a mistake your expertise could have helped me avoid, then you will use that expertise to help me fix it after the fact. Is that clear?”
“Lord Seiji,” she said, lifting her chin, “I must categorically disagree. Avoiding strategic errors is preferable to having to repair them by orders of magnitude. If there is—”
“What do I need you to prove, Velaven?”
I actually heard her teeth click, she shut up so fast. A soft breath made her shoulders rise slightly before she answered.
“Trust, my lord.”
“And do you think you have made positive or negative progress toward that goal today?”
There as another pause while she apparently wondered whether that was rhetorical. I just stared at her, until eventually an answer emerged.
“I…would have thought positive, my lord, as it was my entire purpose in so acting. It seems I erred.”
“Did you ever. This is not a solicitation of your opinion, Velaven, it is me issuing an order. Disagreement is not an acceptable response. Am I clear?”
“You are, my lord.”
I inhaled and slowly let the air out through my teeth. “And that leaves the question of what to do about this. Because just telling you about it obviously isn’t going to suffice. That was the first thing I tried, and here we are again. You lasted one week.”
Aster chose that moment to demonstrate the phenomenon to which I had just referred.
“If she were one of the people under my command,” my lieutenant said, studying Velaven with that thoughtful expression which said this was what she’d refrained from saying earlier, “I wouldn’t punish the specific event. She acted in good faith, with good intentions, and got a good result. It is the pattern that’s the issue. It doesn’t surprise me that former royalty tends to assume she has to act personally if she wants anything done correctly. That unconscious assumption seems to prompt her actions on a level that supersedes conscious decision-making; I’m pretty sure Velaven wouldn’t choose to defy you on purpose. In other words, she needs to learn new habits, and in my experience rapping people’s knuckles does help with that, but…not all that much, and definitely not by itself. More positive methods are necessary.”
Velaven shot her a quick sidelong glance, still impassive.
“Well,” I mused, “that’s valid. As Zui reminded me recently, it’s pretty absurd to expect Velaven to fit into the organization better if I don’t extend some trust and give her some responsibility.”
It was that, of all things, which finally cracked her reserve, causing the dark elf to look over at Zui in a brief flash of open surprise before she recovered her poise.
“So,” I said aloud, “I have a job for you.”
In other circumstances I might have pretended to have just had a flash of insight, so as to impress with my keen Dark Lord intellect, but Velaven was more than canny enough to recognize I had thought this up during my long silence over the walk back to North Watch. I wasn’t about to start playing mind games with this woman, that would just be setting myself up for embarrassment.
“I want you to form a squad of your own. You will report to Aster in this matter. Your mandate is reconnaissance and infiltration, and the training thereof; I want you to teach your subordinates everything you can of shadow scout technique, and cultivate them as potential future officers to train other units at a later time. And this is the important part, Velaven: this will be an all-volunteer group. It will consist of not more than fifteen or less than ten individuals, representing every racial group currently in the Dark Crusade in as close to an even balance as you can reasonably arrange. You may recruit anyone except the goblin veterans of your uprising within Jadrak’s organization, these are to be all new contacts for you. You will approach and solicit their membership personally, making it clear that this affords them no special privileges, is entirely optional, and will carry no repercussions for refusing.”
“Whoah, hang on,” Nazralind cut in, “that’s gonna be a tall order, Lord Seiji. She’s pretty unpopular around here, you know.”
Everyone turned to stare at her in silence.
“Oh,” the elf said after a moment, lowering her eyes. “…yeah, I get it.”
“You may request advice from Aster and Minifrit about suitable prospects to approach,” I continued, “but that is the only aid you are allowed. No one is to attempt to sway any prospect into your unit under any circumstances, you’ll do this entirely on your own merit. Aster, sorry to hand you more work, but I will need to you monitor Velaven’s unit for training progress, combat effectiveness, and above all morale.”
I gave all this just a moment to sink it, holding the dark elf’s eyes with my own.
“In short, Velaven, you are going to start getting people around this fortress to respect, obey, and like you. Good luck.”
She blinked once, her face a neutral mask. “And am I under a time limit for this task, Lord Seiji?”
“The time limit is that as you make progress, my trust in you will increase. And if I start to think you are dawdling I will inevitably start to consider that if I can’t have a suitable dark elf subordinate, this Queen Lyvien might at least make an adequate ally.”
Another momentary pause to let that one weigh on her. Somehow, her utterly neutral expression hardened without changing in the slightest. I was impressed in spite of myself.
“Kindly don’t put me in that position, Velaven. I don’t like the sound of that woman, and at absolute best it would be a massive pain in the ass. Refrain from disappointing me again, please.”
Velaven bowed deeply. “I shall, my lord.”
“Good. Then let’s get stated, we have a lot on our plates today.”
And then it got weird.
Still staring at me, Velaven shifted her posture. In a very measured, deliberate manner, she half-turned her torso, bringing her bust into three-quarters profile, and arched her back subtly. Then added a tilt to her pelvis to emphasize her hips. And then, one facial muscle at a time, adjusted her lips and eyebrows into a coquettish little smile, finally tilting her head so as to look at me through her eyelashes.
“I do not do things by half-measures, my lord. Rather than merely not disappointing, I shall…endeavor to please you.”
Then she turned and walked slowly to the door. Unnaturally slowly, rolling her hips in a way that didn’t work with her gait at all. While we all stared in stupefaction, she opened the door, paused to give me an obviously carefully-timed look over her shoulder, and finally sauntered out.
The four of us stared in gobsmacked silence at the half-open door for quite a while.
“Biribo?” I finally asked.
“She’s gone, boss,” he reported. “No invisibility, she’s halfway across the mess hall right now.”
“Okay. Well. Right. What the hell was that? Seriously, what was that?”
“Maybe all the time I’ve spent around prostitutes lately has affected my standards,” Aster murmured, staring pensively after Velaven, “but that was pretty embarrassing.”
Nazralind scratched her head in puzzlement. “She’s usually so smooth. How the hell did she manage to do that so tragically wrong?”
“I don’t think that woman has ever tried to flirt with anyone before,” Zui said thoughtfully.
“She’s like a horrible puzzle box,” I grumbled, “or a set of Russian nesting dolls. Layer after layer of nonsense, confusion, and lurking issues, all brightly painted with a coat of good manners and political savvy. I am terrified to learn what’ll come up next. All right, well, we’re gonna have to worry about that another time. Come on, girls, we’ve got shit to do.”