The landau cruised silently towards Colmbe. Gentian was fretting, and Xiatoktok was not being helpful by calmly catching up on the various failures of the committees who had struggled without his “gentle guidance.” The committees might not think they had failed, but he knew better. And soon, so would they.

“He has to know we are coming.”

“He certainly does, we sent him several couriers. Poor ’Te’s ass must be worn flat with all the riding back and forth he’s doing.”

“No, I mean knows we are coming. That time pressure thing.”

“Yes, that too. On the other hand, he runs several mercenary companies across the northwest and is currently engaging in work that would have a significant influence on the development of this region during this epoch. He is feeling nothing but ‘heavy weather.’ It would be much more alarming for him if it were to suddenly stop.”

Xiatokte calmly wrote a short note at the bottom of a report. It would go to his secretaries, copied, addressed and dispatched by courier back up the road to the city. It would then be received by a corporate board, who would read it, discuss it, debate it, and when they had exhausted all other possibilities, enacted.

Just like that, a dozen alfalfa fields would be converted from growing fodder to growing vegetables. The cattle they had fed would be used to fertilize new fields. The agricultural system of the city would be gently tweaked towards a more perfect form. And he would do the same thing in the next report, and the next, and the next, and the next, until the world within his reach was organized properly. Running as it should. Under his control.

“It is also why you will be traveling a day behind us, after tonight.”

“How will it be done?” Gentian asked.

“Oh, best not to over plan these things. He’s a tough old bastard, and likely to be very alert to anything that smacks of a setup.”

“You are going to just… improvise an…”

“Assassination?”

“I would very much like to call it anything else.” Gentian said quietly.

“Fair. I was being mean. The Xia, particularly the older generations of the main line, are tough. They have capabilities beyond the ordinary person. However, you will notice that I have spent a very great deal of time and effort on keeping the ordinary people calm and on our side. You will also note that the Xia do not run the world. We don’t even run Cold Garden.”

“You can be overwhelmed by numbers.”

“Yes. Rather easily too. Most of our “magic,” for lack of a better word, is built around controlling the perception of time. If there is a small team of snipers or something, I can move erratically, causing them to miss. I’m exploiting the lag time between their perception of me and when they pull the trigger. Not to mention the flight time of the bullet. But lets say there was a full squad of soldiers. Or a platoon. Forty rifles aimed at me. How long can I dodge? Can I dodge at all? How about if they were shooting from a hundred feet away, instead of a thousand?”

Gentian took a deep breath and nodded. Xiatoktok continued.

“Melee is another classic example. In a big press, it is entirely possible to get skewered by someone who doesn’t even see you. A pike sticking through a formation, for example. Even one on one, it is much harder to defeat someone’s perceptions when their arm is wrapped around your windpipe. And of course, there is the most fatal thing of all. Not giving a damn. You would be amazed how many Xia have died because they were convinced the other side couldn't touch them.”

“You aren’t reassuring me,” Gentian muttered.

“It should be reassuring. What I am saying is that I am much more worried about Xiatamrou’s mercenaries than I am about him. He is a tough, willey human. One who is a genuine menace in command of company-sized forces. Who may or may not be psychotic, but is certainly arrogant, sadistic, and impulsive. So we don’t plan. We simply arrange the field, and see how he dies.

“And then you will eat him.”

“Well. Not in that order, I grant you. Assuming I can eat him, which is far from guaranteed.”

Gentian closed her eyes, looking pained. “Are all the Clans cannibals?”

“We aren’t cannibals!” Xiatoktok was scandalized.

“Yes,” Said Roberta.

Xiatoktok almost jumped out of his skin. He had forgotten Roberta was there.

The caravan rolled into Colmbe with immense pomp. Xiatoktok had ordered firecrackers to be lit, flags to be flown and triumphal trumpets played. The locals looked at them like they were mad, as tall sparklers showered sparks over the impaled corpses lining the road into the town. The mercenaries also looked at them like they were mad, but they were grinning too. They knew what the caravan meant- payday.

“Bring out the heads!” One of the first class guards bellowed. “Bring out those cut down by the Blades of the Xia!”

There was a roar of approval, as chest after chest packed with ice was hauled out into the afternoon light. The chests were open and the paperwork produced. The clerks would be confirming the identities of the slain, seeing what orders had been filled and what was still outstanding. Xiatoktok walked calmly to the house Xiatamrou had commandeered, trailed by a few guards and porters carrying iron bound chests.

“Ah, my favorite banker. Are you fit enough to be out and about?” Xiatamrou’s voice was laden with concern. The sadistic grin did somewhat lessen the warm feelings that came with the voice.

“Oh, fit enough, but I will confess to having little stamina these days.” Xiatoktok shook his head. “I’d scold you for failing your juniors, but if some idiots insisted on paying me for something I was doing already, I’d take the money too.”

“Hah! That’s what you get for leaving blank orders about.” The grin got more sadistic, somehow.

“A lesson I have firmly learned,” Xiatoktok said fervently. Xaitamrou believed him too. This was tall money.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Anyhow. Last report I have from you says that you have filled seven hundred and fifty thousand rads worth of contracts. I brought the pay. Please assay it.”

Xiatokrou grunted, and waved a clerk over. The chests were set out on a table. It looked casual, but Xiatoktok noticed Xiatamrou had positioned himself in such a way that the clerk would take the brunt of any explosion. The windows were open too, in case of poison gas.

The sacks of cores were taken out. Scales were brought forth, the rads weighed, and then checked for heat. The colorful lights washed over the clerks. All quite correct. There was a knock from outside. A bank guard came in with a stack of papers, identifying the dead and confirming which orders had been filled. Xiatoktok made a few little notes in a notebook, consulted with a secretary, and handed the list to Xiatokrou.

“The orders please. Let’s get payment confirmed.” Xiatokrou snorted and waved his valet into action.

“Well that was surprisingly straightforward.” Xiatokrou stamped the orders, confirming payment received. Xiatoktok did the same, confirming payment made.

“I’m an unabashed traditionalist and conservative. In most things, anyway. If you think about it, there was really no way I was going to play games around the Blade Orders.” Xiatoktok smiled meaninglessly.

“A coward more like. Bloodless ‘Tok indeed!” Xiatokrou got in his face. “Did you really think I didn’t spot your little game here? Try to isolate me from the rest of the Council? Well guess what, sunshine. There will be no big party tonight. No bonfires. No big barrels of drugged booze, or a hidden army popping up out of nowhere to slaughter us. None of that shit. Because you are getting right back in your wagons and FUCK ALL THE WAY OFF BACK TO COLD GARDEN! You hear me?”

Xiatoktok calmly mopped his face with a handkerchief. “Would you be very disappointed to learn that the only army I brought is the one you see outside? And that we have neither large barrels of liquor or bottles of poison?”

“Oh, look at the brain on you. I really don’t know what possessed you to come out here, then. I really, really don’t.” Xiatamrou looked hungrily at Xiatoktok.

“Well, obviously it was to pay the Blade Orders. The other part of it was to relieve you of duty.” The madder Xiatamrou got, the calmer Xiatoktok looked.

“Relieve me of duty? Are you just using military sounding words now? Bloodless ‘Tok.”

“No, I believe that I have the term correctly. You are done here. You had your shot on filling the Orders, and instead you turned the town into an abattoir. You have poisoned the whole region against the Clan. So you are done here. You stand relieved. You can fuck all the way off back to Cold Garden.”

Xiatamrou looked puzzled. “What’s your game?”

“Survival. Prosperity. Living long enough to die of natural causes. The usual.” Xiatoktok’s voice was a model of blandness. “And your sickening incompetence is threatening that. In fact, it’s cost me a lot of money. We all know you are too stupid to be trusted on your own, but I genuinely believed you could handle this. Just… stand in a field and don’t let the bad people hang around. You failed to manage even that.’’

Xiatoktok straightened his robes and put away his notebook. He waved at his guards to pick up the empty chests and his secretary collected the stamped papers. Xiatamrou’s staff had highly developed survival instincts- they had exited the room as soon as decently possible. The room swiftly emptied.

“Ah. You really are quite conservative, aren’t you? Bloodless ’Tok. Clan law, Clan traditions, depending on all your little rules to keep you safe. I thought you might have had some steel when you removed Fatty ’Lou. But that wasn’t you, was it? You were throwing a party. It was that bastard ’Te that pulled the trigger. Such a shame. Oh well.” Xiatamrou smiled and flexed his fingers.

“Mmm. Well about that. Before you do something I might regret, take a look at this.” Xiatoktok’s tone was so bored, so casual, Xiatamrou actually let him reach into a pocket. Which was a shame, because Xiatoktok came up holding the same melter that had nearly assassinated him just a few months ago. “Now, I’m sure I wouldn’t pass muster on one of your ranges, but I think that, within ten feet, I can be certain of hitting you.”

The mercenary looked astounded, then started laughing. “Gods! That’s, ahaaahahaha! That’s amazing! Bloodless ’Tok has a melter and he’s not afraid to use it. Except, you silly little punk, you’ve spent the last seventy years proving that there is literally no set of circumstances under which you will get your own hands dirty. So you will excuse me if I am less than intimidated.” Xiatamrou wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “You are such a pathetic coward, you could put that thing to my temple while I strangle you and I would still be perfectly safe.”

“I do have prior form, don’t I?” Xiatoktok smiled slightly. And shot him in the neck.

The little melter hissed and crackled across the short expanse, the horrible radiation projecting a narrow beam that Xiatoktok carefully angled to slice into Xiatamrou’s spine. The old mercenary collapsed, as his brain lost control of its vessel. Eyes staring wide, uncomprehending.

“I do have prior form. I do put my trust in our traditions and our laws. They have stood for epochs. Epochs!” Xiatoktok said with quiet firmness. “And I truly don’t like getting my hands dirty. But here’s the thing. I couldn’t think of how to kill you. I really couldn’t, given the time constraints. Turning a servant or one of your soldiers, poison, fire, disease, finding a patsy to take a shot, everything would take too much time, too much subtlety. Too much room for a mistake. I have a dozen potential routes to kill you today, and they are all terrible, high-risk plays. So yes. Time to get my hands dirty.”

Xiatoktok had been keeping a close eye on Xiatamrou. It looked like his aim had been pretty good, in that he caught the spine, but pretty bad in that there was now an ungodly amount of blood jetting off to the side. He had been far enough away to avoid the spray, but it was still a damn mess. Still. It all worked out.

“And now that I have talked for a bit, I imagine things are getting a bit dim. Muffled, perhaps. It’s the blood loss, of course. So this is my last chance to tell you something important.” Xiatoktok neatly stepped around the blood and reached for Xiatamrou’s face. “I am going to ruin your family. Just because you called me ’Tok.” With that, he drove his will down and shattered what remained of Xiatamrou’s time.

He worked quickly. Pulling the time away in coarse strands, trying to whip it into threads like the Patriarch had shown him. There was so much. So, so much! He pulled and pulled and pulled. He could feel himself growing heavier. More weighted with time. And as he pulled it in he kept reminding himself ‘It didn’t save ’Rou.’”

The mercenary companies had lined up to receive their pay. The company’s paymaster was handing out the rads and checking names off the list. He was sweating. They were all sweating. One of the wagons had opened it’s sides to reveal gun ports, and the first class guards had mounted swivel guns on others. Yet more guards had silently captured the armory, and now they were surrounded. And yet, they were ordered to quietly queue up and collect their pay, then stand in ranks until called.

Eventually, the last soldier was paid. Xiatoktok walked out in front of them, immaculate in creaseless white and gold, carrying a rolled scroll.

“Soldiers, you have a choice now. You can quietly and obediently march back to Cold Garden under escort. You will be allowed to keep your money. You will likely be allowed to continue to serve the Clan. Or you can rebel against the Clan, and I can start investigating exactly which of you was responsable for which atrocity.” He didn’t even spare them a fake smile. “No need to pack your things. What supplies you need will be provided to you on the road. Those wishing to return to Cold Garden should, orderly and in a single file, start walking up the road. Those whishing to dispute the legality or fairness of what I have done here, can stand where they are. Any of you still found in Colmbe in ten minutes will be considered a traitor and dealt with accordingly.”

It said something about the Xia mercenaries that they all looked quite relieved. One of their officers started marching them off in excellent order, and the entire town was evacuated in less than two minutes. It probably said more about the Xia that none of the mercenaries stayed, or asked what happened to Xiatamrou.