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The Tears of Kas̆dael
Lucre, Mammon, and Other Vices

Lucre, Mammon, and Other Vices

The instant the captain and the mage went down, the rest of the guards chasing them turned tailed and fled, knowing they were too low-leveled to face an enemy mage without any backup. Not wanting any unnecessary slaughter, Jasper let them flee, and turned his attention to searching the mage. As he feared, the papers proved he was the Selēmuq they were supposed to be questioning, and he cursed his luck. Can't interrogate the dead; well, if I had taken that other spell I could have. While he searched the mage, Ihra ransacked the rest of the falling, retrieving the gold the captain had stolen from them, and then they departed with their prisoners in tow. Though the guards may have been smart enough to flee, Jasper reckoned that they'd be back soon with reinforcements, and he didn’t want to be there when they arrived.

Yet, he also knew that there was no way the party could just charge down the streets of Nūr-S̆ams̆a with their armor covered in blood and a bound woman slung over Ihra's soldier without running into issues. That meant there was only one route left to take. After patching Ihra's wounds up, the three retreated to the grotto with Nas̆ru and the prisoner. They took the tunnel, taking care to close the sliding wall behind them, and quickly escaped beneath the city walls. By the time reinforcements reached the manor, it was too late; even if the guards could have found the hidden passage, the fire had consumed the manor prevented them from even entering.

The sun hung low in the sky as they stumbled out of the tunnel, and the air was already laced with the chill of the coming night. Jasper snapped to alert as soon as he’d pulled himself out, searching their surroundings for any signs of trouble. There was none, and the ominous red glow peeking above the city walls told him they wouldn’t be followed any time soon.

With a sigh of relief, he turned to Ihra and Erin. “You alright?”

“I feel like I got run over by a truck,” Erin complained, massaging his forehead with a grimace, “but I’ll live.”

Ihra dropped the bound mage on the ground and plopped herself down on top of her like she was a sofa. “Never better,” she replied with a grin, though he could tell the wound hadn’t fully healed from the ginger way she held her shoulder. He tossed another cast of Circle of Forgiveness in her direction and she rolled her shoulder in relief. “Okay, maybe that’s a little better,” she admitted.

“I’m fine too, thanks for asking.” Though Nas̆ru kept his voice light and jocular, Jasper didn’t miss the slight undercurrent of bitterness as he turned to face him.

“I didn’t,” Jasper replied bluntly. Still, as he settled himself down on the ground, he gestured for the Djinn to take a seat.

“I’m pretty sure we just killed the mage we were supposed to question, so I hope you have some answers for us,” he began.

Nas̆ru sighed. “I can't promise much." Seeing Jasper's frown, he quickly continued. "I'm not trying to hold out on you - I just don't know that much. The Lords of Wēdīnīnu were tight-lipped; you'd be better off questioning her rather than me.”

Jasper’s gaze turned to the mage Ihra was sitting on. With her hands still encased in a solid sheaf of wood, and spirals of former beams wrapped around her body so tight she couldn’t wiggle her arms, there was little she could do but glare at them.

“The Lords will pay you back for your impertinence,” she snapped. “Your friends, your family - no one will be safe from our wrath.”

“My friends are right here and my family’s on another world so good luck reaching them there,” Jasper replied dismissively. Of course, technically he knew S̆arrābī and his family were just a few hours on tsussîm-back away, but the As̆rukkat was a nearly impenetrable fortress. Even if the woman wasn’t full of hot air, he doubted the Lords of Wēdīnīnu could reach that far.

“But you know what I find interesting?” he continued “Nowhere in your little spiel did you mention them coming back to rescue you. Sounds like you lords aren’t that loyal to each other.”

Whatever emotion flickered through her eyes was gone before he could identify it, but he knew he’d gotten to her a little. But it was enough to quench her bravado. “Vengeance is all I ask,” the woman hissed. “And you shall not escape.”

“Then it seems we have something in common.” Rising from the ground, Jasper walked over to her and bent down until his face hovered just inches from hers. “Because I agree - a little vengeance is in order. Vengeance for all the soldiers you killed with your little bombs. But maybe, if you tell us what you know, we can work something out.”

Jasper recoiled as she spat in his face. Standing up, he wiped the sputum out of his eyes before continuing. “Fine. Have it your way. I’m not going to torture you to make you talk, but once I’ve handed you over to the officers…well, I can’t speak for what will happen then. One way or another you’re going to spill your guts.”

Jasper wasn’t surprised when she didn’t answer, but the almost smug flicker in her eyes when he mentioned the army’s leaders told him more than she might have realized. So there is a mole. General Turzu? It was a tempting thought, but he knew that his distaste for the man was probably affecting his judgment. But, with the woman unwilling to speak, there was nothing he could do but turn his attention to Nas̆ru.

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“Oooh, my turn,” the man spoke with sarcastic enthusiasm as Jasper returned to his side. “You know, since you aren’t going to torture me, maybe it would be best to hold my tongue.”

Jasper ignored him. “Back at the manor, you said you didn’t work with them and Scales of Justice said you were telling the truth. Why?”

The Djinn glanced at the woman Ihra was perched on and shook his head. Leaning forward slightly, he tried to whisper without moving his lips. “It’s not safe to talk in front of her.”

“She’s captured,” Jasper replied quietly.

“For now,” the man pretended to yawn, covering his mouth as he continued to speak, “but if you knew what I did, that wouldn’t be much of a comfort.”

Jasper studied the Djinn’s face for a second, trying to decide if he was just yanking his chain, but there was no trace of levity in the man’s eyes. “Erin, do you think you could take our guest out of earshot for a few minutes? Maybe tighten her bonds a little up, see if that will loosen her lips.”

“You want me to torture her,” the scout started to object, but he stopped as Jasper jerked his head toward Nas̆ru. “Fine,” he spat, pretending to grumble, but he acquiesced. Ihra begrudgingly gave up her seat and the scout dragged the prisoner into the gathering dusk. When he was nearly out of sight, Jasper repeated the question.

“So convince me you’re not such a bad guy.”

Nas̆ru spilled his guts. A long and winding story tumbled out, a story he’d been holding for far too long. He explained how the Lords had threatened him, how they’d killed his horse and his brother, how they’d made him ditch Gūla, and all the various random tasks they’d assigned to him. It was an interesting story, but one that left Jasper with more questions than answers.

“So this group’s been around for a couple years?” He scratched his ear absently, causing a bite to bleed. Even over here you can’t escape the damn mosquitoes. “But if they’re just opposed to sending troops to help the empire, why would they have formed a few years ago?”

“You know…” Nas̆ru hesitated a beat before continuing, “For years I used to think the group was a bunch of southern nobles. Most of the tasks I was asked to perform were in the South, plus, I guess I always assumed that no one but another noble, a more powerful noble, would be stupid enough to threaten me and my family.”

“You don’t think that anymore?” Jasper asked.

“I’m not so sure now. The one who attacked me in the meeting was a stone mage. I may not have seen his face, but he must have been a S̆addu’â. And the one you capture is Moon-kissed - Lady Selbarah. A minor noble, but certainly no one important; more of a mercantile house than anything else. And the only other time I caught a glimpse of one of them was when one of their sleeves got caught on the edge of the table. That time, the arm was dark red.”

“So Djinn, S̆addu’â, and Moon-kissed - it is a rather diverse group,” Jasper admitted with a frown. “But what binds them together?”

Nas̆ru shook his head ruefully. “I have no idea, but the group has more reach than you’d expect. They were always secretive about their plans, but they mentioned more than once that they had informants placed high in the army when they wanted to threaten me.”

“Do you think General Turzu could be involved?” Jasper asked.

“The general?” The man blinked in surprise, but then a thoughtful look took over. “I don’t know. I’d heard he’d been giving Gūla a hard time - soldiers like to gossip - but I thought that was because of her, well, situation.” The man finished with a grimace. “Even if I had chosen to end the engagement, the way they demanded I trash her reputation was most unfortunate. But perhaps there was another reason?” He trailed off speculatively.

“Without knowing their motives, it’s hard to say,” Jasper admitted reluctantly. “Maybe Gūla can wring a confession out of this woman.”

Ihra, who had been listening quietly up to this point, leaned forward. “Can you tell us again about the monster hunts they sent you on?”

A pensive look shadowed her face as he went over the details again, answering the questions she peppered him with as best as he could. “Do you really not see their motives? It’s obvious!” She finally exploded.

“Obvious?” Jasper and Nas̆ru inadvertently echoed each other.

She nodded her head. “Nearly all the tasks they gave him had one thing in common - money. Some of the monsters they had him hunting provided rare and expensive ingredients, and for the more common ones, they had him hunt them in such numbers that it must have temporarily flooded the market. They had him terrorize some tsussîm merchants, kill a baron who had just married into a rich merchant house, and waylay a caravan of the temple. These aren’t lords - they’re merchants.”

“But then why would they want to attack the army,” Nas̆ru objected. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Actually, maybe it does,” Jasper replied slowly. “Back in my world, we have a term, ‘war profiteering.’ For the average person, war’s a terrible thing, but for the unscrupulous, it can be the ladder to riches. The longer they keep this army stalled here at Nūr-S̆̆ams̆a, the more they can sell to it. We’re about ready to leave the province, but for now, they have a captive audience. We saw how high the prices were,” he added.

“I find it hard to believe they’re not trying to stop the war,” Nas̆ru objected. “You’ve spent no time amongst the southern nobles, Yas̆peh, but there are few who wish to help the empire. S̆ars̆adû may have forced the issue, but most would be glad for any excuse to wriggle free.”

“I don't know if these lords wish to stop the war or not,” Ihra allowed, “but I think I’m right about their origins.”

“I think you are too,” Jasper agreed, “although that means we’ve been looking in the wrong places. Gūla's been watching the nobility, but if you're right, the merchants are in it too. But, there's something else we're forgetting,” he added, rising to his feet. “We've got a prisoner now. Let's see what Gūla can wring out of her.” It doesn’t count if I don’t do it, right? His rationalization did little to appease the pit of discomfort in his stomach at the thought of the mage being tortured, but he hardened his resolve with the memory of the smoking pile of corpses their attack had left behind. It's like they say, Karma’s a bitch.