“They’ll be fine.”
“I know.”
“They’re big girls, and you said they pushed back the goblin attacks pretty easily. Plus they’ve got healing slimes.”
“I know.”
“It’s not like everybody doesn’t know where we sleep, Kass. If they need you, someone’ll come get you.”
“I—nff—know!”
He winced with pleasant discomfort as Harold’s thumbs, strong as thalnin blades, dug particularly hard into the balls of his feet. Harold gave him a knowing smile, not pausing his work.
“I know, I know. But none of that stops you from worrying.”
“Of course it doesn’t, but it still helps to hear you say it, love.” Kasser smiled back, wiggling his toes. “Some stuff you just can’t get away from, you know how it is. I’m always gonna live with that idea… The feeling I should be protecting the women from danger. That’s a man’s duty.”
“Even though the women on guard duty down there are specifically better fighters than any of us,” Harold replied, his smile widening as he pressed even harder into the soles of Kasser’s feet. “Who, I might add, would probably kick your ass for saying something like that.”
“Which is why I don’t say it where they can hear, I’m not an idiot.”
Harold paused in massaging his feet to tickle them instead. “I have no comment on that.”
“Asshole,” Kasser rejoined lazily.
“Hey, you can’t talk to me that while I’m giving you a footrub. Jackass.”
“What you mean is I shouldn’t. We both know I’m not all that bright.” He grunted, having to lean forward and stretch to reach, but Kasser managed to extend his arm down and take one of Harold’s hands in his own, squeezing it gently. “Lucky I have you to humor me.”
“As long as you appreciate it.” Harold lifted their joined hands to lightly kiss the backs of his knuckles, eyes glimmering with amusement over them, and then let go. They both relaxed back into position, Kasser’s feet resting in his lap, and he resumed massaging away the soreness in their soles. “If anything, I’d think you’d be more worried about Lord Seiji, going down into there with barely any backup. I am.”
Kasser heaved a sigh, letting his head loll against the back of his chair. “It’s hard to worry about that guy.”
“Well, I manage. Even if only because of how fucked we all are if he dies.”
“He’s also a walking natural disaster. He’ll be fine.”
“There are the girls with him, too,” Harold murmured. “Aster’s tough as hell, but the others are just girls. And that elf is at least as reckless as Lord Seiji, without the firepower to back it up.”
“Mn.” He really didn’t enjoy the way everything always seemed to come back to Lord fucking Seiji, even though that was perfectly reasonable and nobody’s fault. “Ydleth’s got a brain like a sack of broken bottles, but the other girls…are probably fine. Aster’s such a mama goose and has that artifact armor, and Lord Seiji’s got his healing magic. Seriously, they’re probably better off than the girls holding the defenses.”
“Ydleth’s not bad,” Harold protested, then his smile took on a teasing aspect. “At any rate, she’s downright chummy with people who don’t pick at her. I guess you’ll just have to take my word about that.”
“Your point is made, but being real I’m okay with not being Ydleth’s chum. The fucking Dark Lord channels all the abrasiveness I’ll ever need to experience from other people, and then some.”
“Yeah, he’s kind of a piece of work, huh,” Harold sighed. “But he tries. You can see him trying. That’s gotta count for something.”
Kasser grunted something noncommittal and swung his feet down to the floor, sitting up straighter. He didn’t say it aloud, of course—there was no point in making Harold feel bad—but could they not go five damn minutes without Lord Seiji coming up?
Harold gave him a smile—a warm, genuine one, that said he’d noticed the subtle increase in tension and wasn’t going to add to it. Kasser had no choice but to smile back in the same way. He hadn’t just been aimlessly flirting; Harold’s emotional wisdom was the only thing keeping him sane some days. He really didn’t know how he would have survived this long had they not found each other.
Harold settled on the second bed, the one they used for seating and storage. Back when Rocco had been in charge, the old fortress had been more than spacious enough for the tiny gang and they’d claimed what had been officers’ quarters—not as nice as some of the chambers, but about the size of a decent inn room. Lord Seiji hadn’t even hinted at moving the original crew around, not when the barracks and other chambers still provided more space than the whole Dark Crusade needed, and so they had a space they had made comfortably their own, including piling crates along half of one of the beds so that it made an improvised couch with deep storage along the back. Being both craftsmen, they’d tweaked and refined it until it was sturdy and looked almost deliberately constructed that way. Kasser occasionally wondered why most houses didn’t have something of this design, it was just so handy.
Picking up the beautifully carved akorshil flute from its carefully crafted display stand, Harold settled in and Kasser straightened up eagerly. The flute was more than just a source of joy for them both, it was a symbol. Their meeting with the Spirit at the behest of their unpredictable lord had been… Well, it was a turning point for them both. Harold himself had been more calm since the Spirit’s brief but profound conversation, less timid and better able to maintain equilibrium under pressure for both of them. Kasser hadn’t felt as much changed by the encounter, personally, but the improvement in their relationship had been a gift for him as well.
Just as Harold lifted the flute to his lips, there was a knock at the door.
They both froze, glancing around in instinctive panic that still hadn’t entirely faded after weeks of the new boss’s rules and permissive attitude. Both were barefoot and half-dressed; Kasser had his shirt off and Harold’s was unlaced all the way down. This time that was just because they’d been washing up, and the rags and basin of water on their nightstand even backed up that story. It was just…
The habits born of years hiding who they were did not fade that easily.
“Yes? What it is?” Kasser asked, then winced at the edge in his tone.
“Mr. Kasser? Mr. Harold? Can we come in?”
He was already hastily pulling a shirt over his head; Harold had carefully replaced the flute and was lacing his own back up. The voice behind the door was small and soft, almost recognizable. He couldn’t be sure which of the girls it was, exactly—he didn’t hang around with the kids any more than he could help—but it was definitely one of the Gutter Rats. The original handful Lord Seiji had taken under his wing, not the general crowd brought in later.
What the hell did they want, at this hour?
“Come on in,” he said, straightening his shirt.
The door opened and Benit stepped in, folding down her hands politely. Her sharp green eyes also flicked once around the room with a speed that made the gesture almost unnoticeable, but he was just accustomed enough to them to have caught it. That was exactly the kind of thing he and Harold had learned to be careful of, and the Rats were sharper than any highborn he’d ever met. Without doubt that one little glance had told her a lot more than he’d like about what they had been doing, not to mention everything in their room that was worth stealing. Not for the first time, he thanked the Goddess the Rats were on his side, and mostly respected Lord Seiji’s rules. Benit was particularly discreet, anyway.
Behind her came Aenit, and finally, easing his body halfway around the door jam as if afraid to come all the way in, was Gilder.
“Sorry to bother you this late, Mr. Kasser, Mr. Harold,” Benit said politely. “We think this is pretty important, though, and we can’t find Miss Minifrit.”
“She’s probably—hm.” Kasser broke off, considering. “If she’s not in her room or the kitchen at this hour, I dunno.”
“She’s not in Lord Seiji’s room, either,” Aenit added with just the faintest smirk. “I know he’s not there, but…you never know.”
“It’s okay, girls,” said Harold. “And Gilder. What’s up?”
The girls each stepped to the side, clearing a space for Gilder to come fully into the room. Which…he began to do, hesitantly, one foot at a time, glancing about with clear nerves. What was up with the boy? Kasser mostly knew him as the outgoing, frequently troublesome one. Something had obviously spooked him.
“It’s like this,” Gilder began, but Aenit loudly cleared her throat.
“All the way in, and shut the door,” she scolded. “Come on, Gilder, you know this is sensitive.”
“Right. Right, yeah.” He did scuttle the rest of the way inside with a bit more energy, and Benit pushed the door closed behind him.
“Everything all right, kids?” Kasser asked, increasingly concerned about this uncharacteristic display.
“Okay, so,” Gilder said, still clearly nervous. Kasser saw now that he was carrying something: a thick leather folder. “You know, uh, Sakin’s room?”
Kasser shot to his feet, making Gilder skitter reflexively back against the closed door.
“What did you do?!”
“Kasser,” Harold interceded, his voice gently reproving. “It’s okay, Gilder, it’s not like we’re gonna do anything to you. If you fucked up, that’s for Lord Seiji to do something about when he’s back. If he wants to. What did you need to tell us?”
Gilder nodded, deliberately easing the tension from his shoulders as Kasser sat back down.
“Right, so. Short version is, I found something important in Sakin’s room.”
“How?” Kasser demanded. “We went through everything in that room! My team took it apart.”
“Well, no.” Gilder’s usual, irrepressible grin cracked through his unease as he was handed an opportunity to boast. “I’m guessing you took apart everything in it. Common mistake. No offense, Mr. Kasser, but you think like a shilwright, not a Gutter Rat.”
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“Gilder always was one of the best at finding other people’s stashes,” Benit commented. “Stop looking smug, this is the first time it’s been a good thing.”
“Fucker used to steal everybody’s troves,” Aenit added, giving him a filthy look.
“Hey, it’s not like you all didn’t steal mine right back!”
Harold cleared his throat. “Sakin’s room?”
“Okay, right, so. After you cleared everything out, I went in to just…have a look, y’know? And I looked over the walls and… So, when you were in there, you saw the wall paneling, right?”
“Yeah, it was a captain’s quarters or something,” Kasser said, repressing his irritation. “Probably whatever passed for highborn two hundred years ago. That paneling will polish up nicely, not that Sakin ever bothered. I was kinda looking forward to spiffing it up, when there’s time.”
“Right, it’s pretty scuffed up in there, which was probably why you didn’t see the particular scuff marks I did.” Gilder nodded, no looking entirely full of himself and apparently having forgotten whatever he’d been so nervous about a moment ago. “See, there’s this… Uh, right along the bottom, there’s this…long, flat bit that holds it in?”
“The baseboard,” Kasser nodded.
“Sure, if you want,” Gilder said, and Kasser barely bit back an annoyed retort. Harold shot him a sympathetic look. Even fully grown people seldom appreciated the finer details of good construction. “But, see, part of it had these real particular scuff marks I recognized—little marks on the wall next to it where it had been moved out. The kind that doesn’t happen if it’s moved once; it had been lifted repeatedly. Honestly, I’m pretty surprised a careful snake like Sakin left even that much trace, but hey, the whole room was pretty banged up after being left to rot for a hundred fuckin’ years and he probably wasn’t expecting anybody who knows what to look for would ever be poking around in there. So, there’s part of the…whatsit? The baseboard, there’s part that swings out. And then that frees up some of the panels of the wall to be just lifted loose.”
“And you found that folder behind them,” Harold guessed.
Gilder shook his head. “No, no, I got the folder outta storage. Way too bulky for what was in there, but…uh, I figured they needed protecting, and also to have something to hide ‘em while I carried them around. It was papers—all stuck flat against the wall, behind the paneling. Here, I took everything apart and brought out all of ‘em.”
“Did you put the room back together after?” Kasser asked by reflex as he took the heavy folio and opened it.
“Course I did.” Gilder sounded downright offended. “Who do you think I am? You never leave traces. Any Rat would be smarter than that, and I’m the best.”
“Ugh,” Aenit grunted.
Kasser ignored her, already fully engrossed in the papers he was leafing through. Harold came over to peer over his shoulder.
“Holy shit,” Kasser whispered.
“Oh, fuck,” Harold agreed. “Kids… You did good bringing this to somebody higher up. But, uh… I don’t think we’re the best choice to take care of this.”
“That’s what I thought,” Gilder said. “Uh, no offense. We did look for Miss Minifrit first…”
“Good idea, finding somebody fast,” Kasser acknowledged, looking up to nod at him, “but your first instinct was right. We need to show this to Minifrit.”
“Right, sure, she’s gotta be somewhere,” Gilder said, nodding rapidly and already backing up against the door. “It’s not that big a castle and it ain’t like she’s got much to do this late at night, with Lord Seiji not here. I’ll find ‘er!”
He’d yanked the door back open and scurried out even before Kasser could call after him, “And don’t tell anyone else!”
“’m not stupid!” Gilder’s voice echoed back down the hall as he disappeared around a corner.
Benit emitted a long-suffering sigh and pushed the door shut again.
“What’s with him?” Harold asked. “This discovery doesn’t seem like the kind of thing he’d be so worried over. The Gilder I know would be bouncing with excitement.”
Aenit and Benit exchanged a long, loaded look.
“What is it not?” Kasser demanded. “How worried should I be?”
“Right, so…you know how Gilder had been bothering women all over the fortress who’re well out of his league?” Benit asked.
“Which is all women, everywhere,” Aenit chimed in. “And all women is pretty much who he was bothering, I think Miss Minifrit is the only one he didn’t dare try it on with.”
“Well, apparently Lord Seiji had a chat with him and put a stop to that.”
“Lord Seiji did that?” Kasser felt his eyebrows shoot up in a fresh wave of surprise that overwhelmed even the shock of the papers still spread out in his lap. “Well, damn. I didn’t take him for the parental type.”
“Correct,” Benit said with a sigh. “Oh, he handled it all right, just in a very…Lord Seiji way. Basically he got Gilder to think about how ladies feel about his behavior by…how would you put it?”
She turned to Aenit, who grimaced.
“He showed Gilder very vividly what it’s like to be cornered and pawed at by a man.”
“Which shouldn’t have anything to do with you two,” Benit said hastily. “Lord Seiji didn’t even imply that, we asked Gilder about it. But, you know… This is just Gilder being weird, and Lord Seiji not bothering to think ahead about what other lessons he might accidentally be teaching.”
Kasser very carefully closed the folder and handed it to Harold, because those documents were far too precious to be crushed in his reflexively clenching fists. Harold took it with one hand and draped the other reassuringly around his shoulders.
“It’s not really Lord Seiji’s fault Gilder is stupid,” Aenit said, watching them closely. “And Gilder… Well, he is stupid, but not usually for long. He’ll get over it. He’s just…going through some stuff right now.”
“I’m gonna go out on a ledge and say it’s a little his fault,” Kasser said bitterly. “That asshole can’t even do something nice without being a prick about it.” Harold gave him a comforting squeeze.
“Lord Seiji doesn’t mean any harm,” Benit assured him with a serious expression. “He values you guys a lot, and you know he doesn’t have any… Y’know, prejudices. He just forgets to think about other people’s feelings before he does stuff.”
“Just like Gilder,” Aenit added.
“You want us to tell him off for you?” Benit asked. “We’ve already chewed out Gilder, not that he listens. None of this is Lord Seiji’s fault, exactly, but it wouldn’t hurt him to be a little more thoughtful about opening his mouth.”
Kasser drew in a deep breath and let it out, and found somewhat that he didn’t even have to fake the smile. He reached out to lightly pat both of their heads.
“You’re good kids. Thanks, but no. A man has to fight his own battles.”
“Don’t fight Lord Seiji, Mr. Kasser,” Benit urged with the utter solemnity of which only children and liars are capable. “He’ll wreck you.”
He had to laugh bitterly at that. “Oh, I am very well aware.”
“We’ve been managing Lord Seiji’s moods since well before you kids came along,” Harold added with a rueful chuckle of his own. “Trust me, we’ve got the method down, and fighting him isn’t any part of it.”
“Frankly, the method is just to complain to Aster,” Kasser admitted. “Hell, it’s twice as effective now that we’ve got Miss Minifrit around, too.”
“Well, if the method is to hide behind someone’s skirts anyway, why not let us help?” Aenit said. “Lord Seiji does listen to us, y’know.”
Kasser and Harold exchanged a loaded look of their own.
“You girls just enjoy being kids while you can,” Harold finally advised. “Everybody grows up faster than they think, and if we don’t all die you’ll grow into Dark Lord wrangling duty soon enough.”
For some damned reason, both of them smiled brilliantly at that. Kasser opened his mouth to ask a question, then shut it, reasoning that nothing good would come of it. He really did not understand children.
----------------------------------------
“I’m no expert in forgery and it’s not as if I’ve seen Rab Sioni’s signature before, but as far as I can tell this looks authentic,” Miss Minifrit said fifteen minutes later when she was enclosed in the room with them, leafing through the papers in Gilder’s folder. “If it is a fake, it’s probably good enough to fool his own people. This would get the bearer safe passage through Godspire, as well as any assistance they required, and a guarantee of absolute secrecy by any agent of the city-state to whom it was shown.”
“Yeah, that’s the only one I really understood,” Kasser admitted. “Even the others with the Godspire seal…”
“These are letters of credit drawn against Godspire’s treasury,” she said, carefully laying aside the safe passage document to page through the several identical papers. “Not common, but more so than the previous. And they are definitely authentic; this embossing is actual gold. Anyone who could fabricate something like this would have little need to.”
“I don’t understand the legalese, but I can read numbers,” Harold protested. “For what those claim to be worth, that much gold is…”
“To redeem these,” Minifrit explained, “one would have to take them to the Godspire treasury, to be then examined by agents thereof, who possess a registry of every such letter issued and also are far better equipped than I to spot a counterfeit. They are also empowered to have people seized, imprisoned, and executed, which is what happens in that order if you get caught in Godspire trying to defraud Rab Sioni. Anyone with the resources to reproduce these documents would be disinclined to take such a risk.”
“And the others?” Harold asked. “I can recognize Savin script but not read it, and… I have to assume my Corrin is more rusty than I thought because I could swear that page was a love poem.”
“The Savin documents are more of the same,” she said seriously, her deft fingers carefully turning over each page to examine them in turn. “The letter of safe passage and assistance is not signed by the Empress of Savindar herself, but some minister or other. Nor do I know who is Queen of Shylverrael, but assuming this is her signature, this one… Hm, interesting, the terms are slightly different. The bearer is not authorized to enter the city of Shylverrael itself, but it should earn protection and assistance from the lizardfolk and naga who live around the lake. And these letters of credit are drawn against the treasury of the Savindar Empire.”
“So, uh,” Gilder prompted, “how much money are we talkin’ about, here?”
“You can’t count that high,” Minifrit informed him. “And yes, Harold, this is a love poem, which in the context of the rest of these documents means the Gentry, down in Lancor. They like to use ciphers embedded in poems and songs. The Gentry are undeniably efficient, but also rather more stylish than is strictly necessary. Notoriously so, in fact.”
“Gentry?” Kasser squinted at her. “You mean… The Lancor nobility? Their highborn?”
“No, those are the Houses. The Gentry are the major crime syndicate which operates throughout the Lancor Empire. They have no presence on Dount; Fflyrdylle is the only place in Dlemathlys you could encounter their agents, and even those are just emissaries to the local gangs. Lord Vanderhoen has been aggressive about prying them out. Obviously, while I know they like to use poems as codes, I have no idea what this one is meant to say, or who it’s for. The only person who does got himself sniped by a cat.”
“Well…hopefully the goblin business will be settled soon, and Lord Seiji will be back,” Harold said a bit nervously. “He’s got the Blessing of Wisdom, he’ll be able to tell.”
Minifrit shook her head. “For purposes of the Blessing of Wisdom, a language is a system designed to facilitate communication, while a code is designed to do the opposite. They can’t instinctively read codes the way they can languages. There are Wisdom perks aimed at code-breaking, but the Blessed gain perks based on their life experiences, and I rather doubt Lord Seiji’s have led him in that direction.”
“You are one knowledgeable lady,” Aenit said, visibly impressed.
Minifrit favored her with a mysterious little smile. “It is the rarest Blessing, but Lord Seiji is not the first Blessed with Wisdom I have encountered. It pays to be as familiar with them as possible, in case one turns up, particularly if you are in a business which places a premium on discretion.”
“Soooo,” Gilder said pointedly, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels. “Obviously we haven’t told nobody and aren’t gonna, so just between us here… How fucked are we, exactly? Cos it sure does look like Sakin was double-dealing with… Just, fuckin’, everybody.”
“Mm.” With great care, Minifrit closed the folder and tucked it under her arm. “Maybe. But… perhaps just the opposite.”
“Oh?” Kasser was already clutching Harold’s hand for comfort, and now gave it a squeeze even as he stared skeptically at her. “I’m eager to hear this.”
“I’ve been wondering for the longest time why a trained agent of Sakin’s apparent ability was faffing around here of all places,” Minifrit mused. “With the Dark Lord, sure, that makes sense. But by all accounts, Lord Seiji was just dropped here by the Dark Goddess, to the surprise of absolutely everyone including himself. So why would an operative fit to serve the Dark Lord be embedded in a bandit gang on the ass end of the worst island in the worst kingdom in the archipelago? That Rocco character sounds like a big nothing of a man, and North Watch itself was of interest only to historians before Lord Seiji arrived. This,” she held up the folder, “finally provides an explanation.”
Gilder groaned. “Don’t do the suspense thing, c’mon. It’s too late for that, everybody’s tired.”
“And we all get enough of it from Lord Seiji,” Aenit added.
Minifrit smirked, but at least she continued. “The connections suggested by these documents all point northward. Lancor should by all accounts be the more profitable and significant source of contacts for anyone in a Sanorite kingdom, and yet the only suggested links Sakin had were to their crime syndicate. Obviously, I am extrapolating; we can’t know what information he was trading with whom, because a skilled agent would immediately destroy all of that. The only documents he would keep would be those he might need to use, such as these. But even so, such a collection would be a risk—and the amount represented by these letters of credit is far beyond what any simple spy could possibly require. It would be a lot harder to cash in these assets, but on paper, Sakin was wealthier than any highborn on Dount.”
Kasser whistled in spite of himself.
“Then you see where I am going,” she said, nodding at him.
“Uh… No, that was just at the money. Come on, Minifrit, you’re not dealing with sophisticated people here. Spell it out for the kids and the dummies, please.”
“It’s a chain of connections on an international scale,” she said, granting him a smile. “This looks to me like possibly the major link between the Savindar Empire and their erstwhile colony in Shylverrael. A secretive and circuitous one, but with Dount in Sanorite hands, the landbridge to Savindar destroyed and Godspire occupying the only link between them, it would have to be. Which means, Sakin was apparently, specifically, a Viryan agent. And if that’s the case, he may have already notified the Viryan powers that the Dark Lord is here. Thus, far from being fucked, we may have help coming.”
There was silence in the room for a moment as they all digested that.
“Of course, it’s just a theory,” Minifrit added seriously. “It’s also possible that I’m drawing false conclusions just from the documents that he happened not to have destroyed yet, and he was selling us out to everybody willing to buy. In which case, yes, we’re entirely fucked. Either way, children, none of this is to leave this room under any circumstances. We will inform Lord Seiji as soon as he returns.”
“Whew…yeah,” Kasser said slowly. “I’m surprised to hear myself say this, but… I really hope Lord Seiji gets back soon.”
“Hey, he’s just cleaning up the goblins,” Gilder said airily. “How hard can it be?”