14

A Brief Lecture on the Rulers of Versia

‘This is what we have,’ said the librarian, dropping the last of the stacks of books with a dull thud.

‘Oh. I hoped that you’d just tell us.’

‘Where do you think you are?’

‘What the hell? I didn’t come to a library to read!’

With that, the librarian left them, and Ludgar limply flicked opened the top book and flicked briskly through the first few pages.

Sethel was already in, reading through three different books in one go. Well, “books” was a generous term; some of them were books, certainly. Others looked simply like documents you’d find at some Chancellor’s office. One was just a pile of parchment. A rolled-up map sat just ahead of Sethel.

‘Fascinating,’ he said as his head flicked from one book to the next. ‘They have information on every Versian kingdom.’ He scried his way through the books the same way Caspar gorges his way through a steak or whatever meat happened to be on his plate.

‘I thought you said you had been west before. Why do you need all this?’’ asked Caspar, thumbing through what was just a pile of papers.

‘It was a long time ago. I was still just a child. Things have changed and I want to see how.’

‘Didn’t you say you wanted to go in blind and unbiased?’ said Kathiya, rolling some strange coin between her fingers.

‘Oh yeah, I was just kinda fucking with you. I’m not going to wander into some territory completely blind. I still want to know who the major players are. You remember what the first rule of being a merc is?’

‘Always fight for the side that pays best.’

‘Well, that’s the second rule, but still a good one.’

‘Then what’s the first?’

‘Always fight for the side that will win. No point getting paid by a side that’s going to be dead soon. And with all the major players, I wanna see who’s got the best shot at winning. So, who are they, Sethel?’

Quill in hand, he unrolled the map and began segmenting off different areas in different colours.

With a dance of his hand, the map rose and fluttered in the air, stopping just at the head of the table. A map of the known land of Versia: the Land of the Setting Sun.

The land split four ways by coloured lines: yellow, green, purple, and silver.

Within his flurry of hovering books and documents, a few came to the forefront. A number of those bore a crest featuring a set of scales: the crest of the Republic of Mantè.

‘It’s smaller than I remember,’ said Ludgar.

‘It appears their war with The League has shrunk their borders somewhat. They currently appear to be at peace.’

‘For now.’

‘I remember this!’ Caspar added in, excitedly. ‘We learned about it in school! They take a vote from every single person living there and they decide who rules!’

‘Imagine that. Some drunk stumbling out of the gutter has as much say as any scholar, politician, or lord,’ Kathiya said. ‘I’m surprised it hasn’t collapsed.’

‘My teachers weren’t very clear on how it all works, but how do they know who to choose?’

‘It used to be speakers, who would announce world events at town squares,’ Sethel said. ‘Ever since the advent of faster and easier ways to put quill to paper, they cut out the middleman and give out papers of current events to speak the truth. What truth that happens to be is entirely up to them.’

‘“Their truth?” Surely there’s only one truth?’

‘Not when the leadership of the country is at stake.’

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‘But these event papers must be held up to some universal standard of truth, right?’

Ludgar, Sethel, and Kathiya burst out laughing. Even one of the librarians joined in and added a giggle.

‘You really are young,’ said Ludgar, putting his arm over his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll learn.’

Sethel explained the lay of the land: flat and mostly comprising farms, fed with the light of the comfortable southern sun. Excellent trade with Evandis through ships to the south, circumventing a hazardous journey through the Broken Sea.

Next, Sethel brought forth books bearing a crest of five starts within a wreath of flowers: the crest of The League of Five.

‘The alliance of five individual lords. Sworn enemies of the Kingdom one day, best friends the next. Funny how quick things change. I see their crest is different.’

‘A new lord seems to be causing waves. First Lord Davik. This current events article calls him the Trickster Lord. Seems to have situated himself as leader. An unparalleled strategist and shrewd negotiator. It's no wonder he managed to become the de facto leader of what should be an alliance.’

Sethel rattled off the next of the lords. Second Lord Xypher was of a peculiar mind. Numbers was her forte. The accountant of the league in many ways. They say no one has ever seen her face.

Then there was Third Lord Dhaliana. Her beauty beyond words. They say kings wage war for her mere attention.

Next, the poet lord: Fourth Lord Trister. An eccentric individual and of inexorable promiscuity to such an extent that he was also known as the lord of vice. Fitting for a man who runs a city like Savanti: known as the cultural capital of all Versia.

Finally, the merchant lord: Fifth Lord Isanthol. A man of procurement and intense disposition. Can find anything anywhere. There’s someone that could put the White Cobra to shame.

The land itself was said to be beyond beauty, of great winding fjords, vibrant rolling hills, and the most colourful flowers of every variety. The land sprinkled with the wondrous architecture of ancient civilizations.

More books were brought forth, much more elegant in nature; less like librarian notes and more like spell tomes. Their crest showed a simplified eye watching from atop a great tower: the crest of the Phaos Theocracy.

‘The Theocracy has grown that much?’ said Ludgar ‘Just seems like yesterday they were a band of up-jumped, foreign zealots preaching their nonsense on the street corner. How’d they claim their own foothold here?’

‘Their seers,’ said Sethel.

‘Just a legend.’

‘By all evidence, apparently not. I’ve heard their magic rivals that of the Evandian universities. It would be a wonder to visit.’

He began another lecture. This time of Archbishop Arvellis, his fearsome Inquisitors, and his Seers, who they claim can see the future. From the great tower of Phaos, far to the frigid north, they gather magically enriched crystals to-

Sethel noticed Caspar bending one of the page corners of one of the books.

‘You harm one of these books and I will burn you from the inside-out!’

Caspar panicked and folded it back. He refrained from touching anymore for the duration of the lecture.

Sethel brought more books to the front, noticeably of much lesser numbers than the books found previously. The crest of the twin moons above a mountain: the crest of the Rauvin Principality.

It was situated right in the middle of the three other factions, and of such a small size that it was an absolute wonder it had not been conquered already.

‘Ah, little Rauvin still standing firm. I remember training there a long time ago,’ Ludgar commented. ‘Good times.’

‘How has something so small not been conquered?’ asked Kathiya.

‘It appears trade and good relations are far simpler than conquest here. The mountainous region makes mobilization difficult. Plus, they make notable mercenaries.’

Ludgar began talking at length about the principality. About training in the snow-tipped mountains, about the rich ores and stones to be found there, about the strange prince of such wit and charm that rival nations found it impossible to attack.

By the sound of it, there was no place more beautiful.

‘And that is all of which we know so far.’ With the grace of a feather caught in a light breeze, the books left their orbit and returned to the tabletop.

‘Not everything,’ Ludgar added in as the final book rested at the top of the pile.

Sethel paused and thought deep for a moment, almost confused by the idea that someone knows something he does not. ‘A few minor lords, maybe. There are also the Sanrid tribes of the deep south, but they’re no more than an amalgamation of savages and bandits. They’re of little interest to the civilized.’

‘What else?’ Ludgar posed the question with a sly look about his face.

Sethel stared back down, brain on the verge of overheating, trying to search for the missing answer.

‘Nothing in there about the Skyspears?’

‘Nothing.’

Ludgar turned to one of the passing librarians. ‘You have so much knowledge here, but tell me, what lies beyond the Skyspears?’

If they didn’t know any better, it would appear as though the librarian had been taken aback. It was a fine enough question. No one really knew what lay beyond that inconceivably large mountain range, where even the clouds themselves couldn’t reach the peaks.

‘There is nothing beyond the Skyspears.’

‘That can’t be right. I’ve got my own sources that say-’

Before another word could leave his lips, the librarian interrupted him with her own.

‘That land is naught but ash and fire. If you wish to cross it, be my guest, but you will find nothing but death. Mount Dyspar burns eternal and it’s eruptions turn the rain into fire.’ She left before any more questions could be said.

‘The hell was that?’ Ludgar asked.

‘No idea,’ Kathiya said back, ‘but whatever it was, it was way more than just a warning.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Yeah. There wasn’t concern there. That was fear.’