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Record of Ashes War
Chapter 71: Incitement (Book 2, Chapter 34)

Chapter 71: Incitement (Book 2, Chapter 34)

Chapter 34 - Incitement

"Lord Caranel, please stop this madness," the governor pleaded. Agrienne turned to give a glare. The governor shrunk back, making his deep wrinkles fold and create deeper crevices within the skin. "I beg you," he squealed, "You are my guest here. If the Trillians were to learn of this, I will—"

Oink! Oink! Agrienne ignored the pig's cries. Governor Bernestur of Heira, vassal to High House Galadin, and a shriveling creature with nothing pleasant to look at. Bernestur grabbed hold of Agrienne's arm, still oinking. Agrienne struck down on the governor's wrist with his own thick forearm. "Do not touch me so carelessly," he hissed, cutting off the incessant whimpering.

Agrienne peered into the half open doorway of the governor's chambers. He expected something worth seeing but instead found children that couldn't possibly even be ten years of age trembling beneath Bernestur's sheets. Agrienne grabbed hold of the old man by the beard, disgusted. "I will do as I please. The Trillians can turn into Bloody Ashes for all I care."

"But if this gets to Lord Galadin—"

"Then what? Mm? Does Lord Galadin know about your… hobbies?" Agrienne whispered, nodding towards the door. His back was growing hot, sunlight baring on it from the corridor window right behind him. His shadow overwhelmed the older man. The mansion reeked of perfume too. A good kind, yes, but a morbid overuse. Bernestur shivered, reedy lips trembling. "I thought not." That meant Heira was under Trillian control. They kept the governor appeased and used the city as their base.

"But blaspheming the Goddess—"

"Oh shut up! I don't need a pig to tell me I blaspheme a Goddess." Agrienne shoved the governor back into his room and slammed the door shut, wondering —for a very brief moment— if he should have helped those pitiful children locked in there with that sick bastard.

He stormed off, pulling out a knife from within his royal blue coat and dragging its edge along the surface of expensive paintings hanging from the wall. Sick bastard. He deserved this much at least.

Agrienne had already sent orders to defame the Trillian faith in his own demesne. With the roads as they were and trade and travel halted, commoners would be anxious. They would either turn to faith, or they would turn against it and seek a new medium to guide them. If the measly faith they clung on to was defamed by the very rulers on whose lands they worked, then Agrienne will not only have rid northern Xenaria of the Trillians, he would also increase civilian loyalty to him, granting him more power over their wills.

All that remained was to light a fuse here in Heira, the Trillian faith's head. Just a few words to start whispers and mutters. Lord Agrienne, one of the wealthiest of Xenarian noblesse, and the handsomest of all men, denouncing a widely followed faith. It would cause doubt and spread fear. Both of those traits would only increase if the strange rebellion against the crown persisted for a prolonged time. People would worship more often. Grow closer to this so called Goddess of theirs. And when no answer came to them from the heavens, that doubt and fear would take hold of their hearts.

And if this Goddess is real, then she can come down here and stop me herself. I'll lay her down and have her panting out my name before the crowds. Have her beg to be my whore and become a God myself. Agrienne licked his lips, relishing the thought before letting it fly out an open window. If the Goddess was real. There's no way that she was.

A crowd of people awaited him before the governor's manse. Commoners the most of them, plain clothes stained with road dust or sweat from a day's work. Some beggars in rags and orphans with bruised arms. They stunk of grime, the lot of them. Agrienne was suddenly missing the scented halls of the manor.

But there was little for it. This task had to be done, no matter the resources wasted. This is for you, Lera, where so ever you may be. Agrienne stood on a podium prepared for him in advance, city guards surrounding him. City guards that he'd bribed in advance. Most were faithful to Trillia. But they were further faithful to the weight of their purses.

The people shifted about themselves, muttering and whispering. Commoners avoided beggars and beggars avoided orphans. A hierarchy amongst even the lowest. To Agrienne they were all the same. "My fellow Xenarians, and honorable folk of Xenaria," he began. "I—" Agrienne paused, eyes fixed on a brown haired woman. Not Lera. He opened his mouth to speak again, staring agape at another woman, this one wearing a bonnet but had a polished length of brown hanging before her forehead. Also not Lera. Flames! She's dead. Get over it. "My name is Agrienne Caranel. Yes, Agrienne of High House Caranel, if you are wondering." None of them looked to be wondering. They were either gasping or staring with frowns of contempt. "I am here to help you, as was promised when you were asked to come here," he said. Some of those frowns eased.

The people began muttering again. Agrienne held up a hand to command silence. They obeyed, as they should. "I understand that many of you now face hardships with the strange rumors surrounding this nation. I will confirm these rumors here and now. There are in fact a group of rebels trying to overtake the crown, but rest assured, the situation is being handled beneath her majesty's thumb. This strife will end soon." Agrienne folded his arms behind his back, puffing out his broad chest to appear more confident. His mouth dried a bit as he realized how much of this plan hinged on Dahlia. He was aware of a group of fool peasants rebelling, but as to how large that group was, he had no knowledge. He had hid within bushes and lain on the ground, dirtying his clothes to hide from a few groups of roaming militia on his way to Heira.

"In fact, I am here on behalf of Queen Dahlia," Agrienne continued, shifting the details of his plan. If he was going to rely on the Crown, it was better to gamble all his chips on it, and simultaneously have Dahlia owe him a favor if she did triumph. Agrienne licked his lips again. Favor… Bright haired though she maybe, Dahlia had a certain charm that he wanted a taste of. "I will be providing you with minor relief resources as was instructed of me." More like pay and feed you out of my own pocket. Agrienne —for the briefest moment— reconsidered this plan. Did these folk really deserve House Caranel's funds? No, of course not. But they would get it all the same. All for Lera.

He decided to not pull any of his punches. There was no reason to stop at merely denouncing Trillia as a real deity. Might as well blame the entire situation on the Trillians entirely. "This aid of course, is free to you, the people of Heira, the sons and daughters of Xenaria. But know this. As of right now, you all are traitors to this nation. Traitors worthy of being executed!" Agrienne boomed with arms outstretched, his rich voice resounding amongst the trees of the governor's courtyard. And now pause for effect.

Whispers followed. Feet shuffled. Spit was swallowed. Some slowly backed off, afraid. Others looked up to him with pleading eyes. A few were curious but frozen in the face of authority. Some tried glaring, their glares weakening upon glancing at the armed guards around Agrienne.

"What do you mean traitors?" an older man finally asked, his arms thick and his face marked black with either coal dust or soot.

"I mean exactly that, master blacksmith. You. Are. Trai. Tors," Agrienne finished, speaking as if the crowd were no different to unlearned children. Well, they were commoners after all. They might as well be nothing more than children in a fenced coop needing to be fed every morning and evening. "Anyone who worships Trillia, a false deity I might add, is a traitor. For the cause of all your torments, the cause of Xenaria's strife is none other than the masters of the Trillian faith! They've won over the people and are now trying to overtake the crown, causing you to suffer in the process. Roads have been closed! Food cannot reach the city! And you folk are financing this! They don't expect you to rebel against them of course, lest you anger this Goddess. Alas, the Goddess is nothing more than a falsehood."

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Louder yet were the whispers of the people. But no one dared to ask for evidence or deny the charges. They couldn't. Who among them would be bold enough to question the sitting lord of a High House?

And now, one final push. "I ask you this, oh children of Xenaria! Has this Goddess ever aided you? Has she given you anything in return for your prayer, your devotion, your charity? No! Of course not! Your funds are taken by the Trillians and used to fund their deceptions and military exploits elsewhere. But Xenaria hasn't abandoned you. The High Houses and the queen herself has not forgotten you. This is why I shall provide food here to those that need it." Food I've taken from Heira's storage. "This is why I shall hand out a sum of a half silver to each and every one of you, and I do not want you fighting for it. I want everyone to form a single line for their portions. And remember, standing in the line twice will result in immediate apprehension! Be responsible and mindful of your fellow struggling citizens."

And that was that. People were scrambling to get in line. This was but a fraction of Heira's low class. Agrienne couldn't afford handing out money to everyone. But word of the deed would spread and people would clamber at the governor's gates. And by then I will be long gone, the seed of doubt planted within these people's hearts, and rumors spreading like wildfire. Bernestur, of course, would be left to deal with the aftermath of the Trillian's retaliation as well.

Or so Agrienne thought.

Halfway through handing out the charities, Agrienne spotted armed men wearing Trillian colors of white and gold marching down the cobbles leading up to the manor. He paused, looking down at the line from the podium. He couldn't stop now or the people would doubt him. The Trillians shouldn't have been there. There was no way for word to have reached them so fast. Agrienne was certain he'd paid off every man guarding the governor's residence.

Unless some of these guards were on the Trillian's payroll already. "Flames!" he breathed, pressing a polished half silver into a plump woman's palms. He handed a bag of grains and dried meat to her as well, though she didn't seem she needed it in the least. She flashed a smile, cheeks red, bowing just enough to better expose her cleavage.

Disgusting. Agrienne had half a mind to sever her head then and there, but she had brown hair and he forgave her, remembering why it was he was even going to such lengths to begin with.

The Trillians marched into the courtyard, the guards not stopping them in the slightest. The sea of commoners divided in two to let them pass. The religious militiamen had their weapons drawn and soon the lineup of people also stepped away.

Agrienne drew his own sword. "What are you buffoons doing?" he howled, turning to the guards. "Draw! Draw you fools! They have their weapons out! No time to make arrests. Fight them!" Fight them while I escape.

The guards drew, but none of them took stances or made defensive formations. They all stepped away and turned their blades on Agrienne. He swallowed realizing what a horrid mistake he'd made. Flames! How deep do their pockets go? I paid each man a gold crown! A bloody gold crown!

"I daresay, such words were rather bold of you to make here in this city, Lord Caranel," a man from beyond the Trillian lines said.

"Who is it? Who dares utter my name so carelessly?" Agrienne demanded, glaring beyond the many heads before him. The Trillian militia were slowly making way for an ashen haired man in brilliant white and gold robes. The Vicegerent.

"Who, mm? Who was it, I wonder, that dared to blaspheme the deity in this holy city?" Vicegerent Odain hissed, standing before the podium. The mansion's shadow shrouded him entirely, making him seem small. But everyone around him belonged to him. Agrienne was alone and this small, lesser man was the one in control. Odain stepped up to the podium, the city guard making way for him as if he were a king. "That is what you did, was it not? Blaspheme Goddess Trillia?" he hissed, lowering his voice so only Agrienne could hear. He stood right there in Agrienne's range, a brilliant sword with golden blade in hand.

Agrienne didn't hesitate for a second, raising his arm and swinging down as fast as humanly possible. Odain had time enough to defend, but to get into a decent enough position to do so? Not possible. He would block with his blade, but he was standing straight with both legs together. The force of Agrienne's swing would swat away the golden blade and cut through the Vicegerent regardless.

But no such thing happened. Agrienne's sword was severed, its remaining edge a deep orange as if the rest of the blade had just been melted off. "Magical Artifact," he breathed, staring wide, sweat forming at the side of his head. He'd been cornered.

"Behold, a miracle of the Goddess," Odain proclaimed loud and clear. "For how could a Goddess allow her most loyal servant to perish at the hands of a liar?"

"It is a magical Artifact!" Agrienne cried. "Do not be deceived by this charlatan, oh people of Xenaria!"

The people seemed indifferent. On one hand, they saw Agrienne's words for truth and knew him as a charitable man working for the queen. On the other hand, there were armed men all serving Trillians surrounding them. Trillia who up until recently, most of these people were worshipping, and might still consider worshipping.

"I'm afraid this charade ends here, Lord Caranel," said Odain. "Or should I say the bastard of House Caranel? Either way, I'll be taking you into custody for an unforgivable crime." City guards strode forward and grabbed onto Agrienne's arms.

"Unhand me at once you louts!" he demanded, glaring back at Odain's smug expression. "You think you've won, holy man? Nay. This is just the beginning. Word will spread. You've no right to be making arrests. Lord Galadin will hear of this. This is one of his cities after all. He's got pride enough for a highborn to fight back and he'll fight back hard, I assure you. He doesn't like losing what's his." Agrienne ground his teeth behind closed lips. As unfortunate as this situation was, he needed Jasim Galadin's aid. Now he would owe that vile man a favor.

"Oh. Lord Galadin, mm? You mean that same one who does nothing but satiate his own greed? Oh don't worry. He'll be easy enough to buy. You on the other hand, don't seem to want to be bought. There is still time to change your mind however."

"Burn to Ash! I'll never be your dog," Agrienne howled, struggling to free his arms from his captors.

"Unfortunate. Truly. But there are ways to break a man. I do need you after all. For now that is."

Agrienne struggled harder but someone struck his face. Someone dared to strike his handsome face. He tasted iron on his lip. A warm bead trickled down his chin. "You'll never win, Odain! Word will spread. I've told them that this insurrection is your doing. The people will realize soon enough and abandon your false faith!" Agrienne glanced at the commoners, seeing if his words were leaving an impression. They were muttering. Good. A seed of doubt was all that would be needed. I'll triumph. I'll triumph you bastard!

Odain leaned in. "Yes. Quite the stir you've caused among the crowds. It will be difficult to undo." He leaned back, staring up at the sky. "If only Tavi were here," he mused. "I could convince these people that Trillia exists. Well, she's not exactly in a proper mental state to be visiting crowds. I could use the Crowns of Control… but no. Those belonged to her mother. She could have a resistance to their magic. Not worth wasting on her anyway when she already obeys me for the most part." Odain leaned back in. "No, Lord Agrienne. I've already won, you see? You are in my grasp. Lord Galadin will soon be in mine. Lord Coraine I hear has died. That leaves just High House Serene. With them handling the Empire, this nation already belongs to me."

Agrienne's eyes went wide. "Eternal Flames. You mean you really did orchestrate the insurrection?"

Odain grinned wide. A repulsive grin. He fished out a smooth grey stone from beneath his robes. It had a strange marking on its surface. He rolled it over in his palm on repeat. "Hmm. I thought you knew. I was wondering how you found out but it seems you were just making it up as you went along. Speaking of, I should be visiting Dahlia soon."

Agrienne bared his teeth, trying against his captors again. He didn't care enough about Dahlia. But to have a lowly no one with no name be in control of Xenaria's crown? A crown that belonged to him? Unacceptable.

Odain turned to address the people. "Oh people of Xenaria and faithful servants of Trillia. Do not fall for Lord Caranel's lies! He gave to you not in charity but to benefit himself. Be patient and Trillia will reward you many times over. Go now and go home." The people began to clear out with the beggars that hadn't received their charity share remaining. Odain ordered for those to be handed out to maintain his image all while smiling at Agrienne.

"Take Lord Caranel away," Odain ordered eventually. "Give him the most suitable of dungeon accommodations. Fare thee well, bastard of House Caranel."

Agrienne continued glaring, muttering curses in his mind that he just couldn't say aloud lest he give Odain the satisfaction of seeming a defeated man with naught but words left to him. Someone eventually placed a burlap bag over his head, turning his world to black and dreary like the life of those living in alleys.