Chapter 12

“You should have taken Orlando up on his offer.”

“Are you crazy?” Neia shot Saye a look, “Why would I want to work in…a…a…brothel?”

“It’s not just a brothel,” Saye told her. “All of the people here work different jobs. Prostitution is entirely optional. Sir Orlando is so busy with all the people in Hoburns now that he’ll take any help they can get. Not that he wouldn’t have hired you anyway. And I bet you’d do great in the casino.”

“The casino?” Neia frowned, “What makes you say that?”

“You’re a Baraja, right?”

Neia stared wordlessly at the Bard for several moments.

“Just because my name is Baraja doesn’t mean I belong in a casino! Why would you even think that?”

“Because surnames originally come from the family’s profession.”

“Well, my father was a Ranger,” Neia told her. “And my grandfather was…actually, I don’t know what he was but my point is that people should be free to choose what they want to do with their lives. There’s no rule in the Holy Kingdom that forces you to work as whatever your name says you are.”

“Maybe there should be,” Saye muttered.

The Bard wasn’t making any sense whatsoever.

“How about becoming the strongest casino employee ever?” Saye asked after a moment, “You always talk about becoming strong, right?”

Neia rose to her feet and left Saye’s room. What was the point of that? It wasn’t as if casino workers had any impact on the fate of nations.

She made her way to the ground floor of The Queen of Thorns and poked her head out of the employee entrance. The alleyway was empty but the streets were crowded even during the early hours.

“Where are you going?” Saye’s voice came from behind her.

“Out,” Neia replied. “I want to see how the city is doing. I need to get a new mask, too.”

“The old mask looked great on you,” Saye said. “I don’t see what your problem with it was.”

Neia left the alley and slipped into the crowded street. Their sensibilities were too different, so arguing about the topic felt pointless.

“Why do you hate them?”

Her steps stopped in front of the district’s central canal.

“I don’t hate them,” Neia said.

“Everything you say and do tells me otherwise,” Saye told her. “You won’t even make eye contact with any of the employees. It’s like they’re unworthy of your attention. What makes the people of the Water Gardens any less deserving of your attention?”

Neia glowered at the crystal clear water of the canal. Why did she have to spell out something so obvious?

While they stood there, a drunken man staggered in their direction. Neia turned and hurriedly walked away.

“Does that mean you hate me, too?” Saye asked, “I’ve worked here and in plenty of other places like this, as well.”

“I don’t hate you,” Neia answered. “I just find it sad that you had to do what you did. You…you don’t sell yourself anymore, right?”

“Everyone sells themselves in some way,” Saye told her. “People who can’t sell their skills end up selling their bodies. Some people have strong bodies and can become labourers. Others have beauty and sell that instead. I was happy that I could help my family with what I had, not sad.”

“How could you be happy about that?” Neia said, “It’s a horrible thing to have happen to anyone, never mind a kid!”

“More horrible than starving to death? I don’t understand how you people consider being a labourer ‘honest work’, but people like the ones working in The Queen of Thorns are somehow illicit.”

“Because it’s immoral,” Neia replied. “They’re doing nothing but hurting themselves and other people. Gambling, alcohol, prostitution, and all that other stuff leads to debauchery.”

“Then why isn’t it illegal in the Holy Kingdom? Why is there a whole district for it in the capital?”

“There are a lot of things that shouldn’t exist,” Neia said. “The water district is supposed to be filled with industries associated with the water god, but Hoburns isn’t on the coast. All of the stuff you’d normally find in Rimun or Lloyds can’t exist here, so it got overrun with everything else instead.”

In addition to what one might expect of a water god, the water god of the Four Great Gods also oversaw the domains of Nobility, Healing, and Charm. Over time, various interpretations of what that meant transformed the Water District into the Water Gardens: a nest of decadence and wickedness that catered to the elite. Of course, the elite prevented any change to what they desired and this sentiment was especially strong in the capital where people of power gathered.

“So if it was up to you,” Saye said, “you’d destroy the Water Gardens?”

“I’d replace it with something more useful, at least,” Neia replied.

“Like what?”

“Something that isn’t harmful. If they want stuff that fits the theme of a water district, they can have fancy inns and artistic venues.”

“You know, pretty much every town and city that I’ve been to has brothels, pubs, and all that. Not having places like the Water Gardens doesn’t stop people from doing all of that stuff you don’t like.”

“Our Justice Camps will fix that,” Neia said. “Anyone who wants to grow stronger doing productive things is welcome. There won’t be any need for people to do stuff like that anymore.”

“What if that’s what they want?”

“Don’t be silly. Why would anyone want to work in a place like this?”

Saye just kept saying increasingly crazy things. Was she just trying to be difficult?

“I guess whether something is considered ‘honest work’ or not depends on where you are,” the Bard sighed.

“Well it’s not honest work here,” Neia said. “And I think that’s a good thing. The rest of the world has all sorts of weird ideas that shouldn’t take hold in Roble.”

After what seemed like far too long, they finally entered the Earth District on the east side of the city. Neia took a deep breath after they crossed over, glad she was out of the suffocating atmosphere of the Water Gardens. The difference between the two districts was jarring, however, with the Water Gardens being far better maintained due to its aristocratic patronage.

“Bleh,” Saye said. “There are too many people here.”

“It can’t be helped,” Neia said. “The population of the city must have quadrupled in two weeks.”

The population of the city and its surroundings, at least. It looked like the labour camps strangling Hoburns had utterly lost their handle on things. There was no way for them to deal with the sudden demand for everything and visiting retainers flooded the streets. The locals didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the unexpected windfall, rushing about and doing their best to make as many sales as they could.

“This isn’t going to last long,” Saye said.

“Why?” Neia asked.

“The Nobles still control imports, right? I bet all these people are using up the last of the industrial supplies that they have. No matter how much money they make, they won’t be able to buy more.”

“Won’t that hurt the Nobles, too?”

“Probably not,” Saye said. “It’s not as if they aren’t supplying their men. The ones you see here are just buying extra stuff. Luxuries and souvenirs, probably. They likely aren’t very impressed even though it’s the first time to the capital for most of them.”

“Why does it seem that everything the royalists do only hurts the north?”

“Well, this part isn’t on purpose, at least. Both the citizens and the retainers are just doing what people do.”

Even so, it would lead to an even more desperate situation. The royalists would be sitting secure and well-supplied in their camps while Hoburns became even more of a hollowed-out shell than it was before. It was pretty much a siege that no one recognised as one.

She watched the emaciated residents interacting with their customers from the south. Couldn’t the southerners see that the people were suffering? Surely they noticed the poor condition they were in compared to themselves.

“I should speak to the people,” Neia said.

“I don’t think anyone will notice you in this mess,” Saye replied. “The Nobles probably won’t like your message, either.”

“The conservatives don’t seem to mind.”

“I’m sure they already mind,” the Bard told her. “They just have bigger fish to fry at the moment and you’re on their side.”

The notion was something that she had been harbouring in the corner of her mind for some time, but she wasn’t sure if it was the case or not until they started confronting the royalists. In the Holy Kingdom, the Crown, Temples, and aristocratic establishment were used to being the only ones with access to meaningful power. The Path of Justice encouraged everyone to cultivate their personal strength so that they might uphold their own justice and that naturally infringed on what the elites of the Holy Kingdom considered their exclusive domain.

Neia wanted to be able to change the Holy Kingdom via peaceful means, but whether that was possible was yet to be seen. After witnessing the militancy of the Nobles and their willingness to employ force to get their way, that hope had become a rapidly dwindling one.

“There must be somewhere I can go that the Nobles won’t notice,” she said.

“There probably is,” Saye replied.

The Bard looked up at the shophouses lining the street. After a moment, she made her way across the district.

“What are you looking for?” Neia asked.

“A courtyard,” Saye answered. “There shouldn’t be any visitors in the city going into the back alleys. People on the streets won’t be able to hear you, either.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Saye veered into an alley. Neia hesitated for a moment at its shadowed entrance before running to catch up with the Bard. She looked about warily as they made their way deeper down the narrow passage. After several twists and turns, they emerged into a small courtyard roughly ten metres to a side. There was a bit of grass in the middle and a few skinny fruit trees stretched their branches to the sky.

“I don’t see anyone…”

“It’s not like they’d be waiting for you,” Saye said. “All the kids and housewives that aren’t helping with the shops should be in their homes. Who knows, there might be some Corps members around.”

That would be a great help if it were the case. She had never spoken to crowds without at least a handful of followers around. Before that, she would just talk to individuals around a campfire during meals or while drilling with the Liberation Army’s soldiers.

A figure appeared in the shadow of a doorway. Maybe she could start small after all.

“Excuse me,” Neia put on her best smile, “do you know about our saviour, Ainz Ooal–”

“UWAAAAAAAAH!!!”

The child screamed in fright and ran away. Neia felt tears welling in her eyes.

“You need a mask,” Saye said.

“I…I’m not that scary, am I?”

Saye didn’t answer. Somehow, that hurt her even more than if she had confirmed it.

A woman’s soothing voice issued from the empty doorway, followed by her fearful call.

“Papa, there’s a monster in the back!”

Neia and Saye made themselves scarce, not wanting to see what came out.

“Where are you going now?” Saye asked.

“Getting a mask,” Neia answered.

They crossed the street outside the alley and entered a tailor’s shop.

“Welcome,” the man at the front counter said. “I apologise in advance for our limited selection. How may I help you?”

“Hello,” Neia said, “I’m looking for a…”

The man waited patiently as she tried to find words for what she wanted. If she asked for a mask, the shopkeeper would probably offer her the sort that labourers used to keep from breathing in dust. Would a strip of cloth be fine? She wasn’t sure if she would be able to see through it.

“Do you have something like a veil?” Neia asked.

“A veil…?” The man looked her up and down, “For what occasion might this be for, young miss?”

Why do I feel like everyone is attacking me?

Neia wanted to think that she had grown numb to people singling her out over her eyes, but something always happened to prove her wrong.

“Do you have one, or don’t you?”

“Just a moment…”

She stared absently at the empty shelves of the shop, stewing over her treatment. The man returned several minutes later, bearing a crate filled with cloth scraps. Neia examined the offerings with a dubious eye, fishing out the longest pieces she could find.

“How much for these?”

“One silver a piece,” the shopkeeper answered.

“One–!”

Ridiculous. It was a wonder that the citizens didn’t get beaten up by their southern customers for such absurd prices. In the end, she settled on a strip of tanned cloth about as wide as her hand. After leaving the shop and entering a different alley from before, Neia wrapped it over her eyes.

“I can’t see anything.”

“Obviously,” Saye said.

Neia drew her dagger and cut eye holes into the cloth. They didn’t stay open when she put it back on, however.

“Now you look like an especially unfortunate bandit,” Saye noted. “You should have stuck with the mask I gave you.”

“Never! I can make this work.”

Fifteen minutes later, she managed to come up with something workable. They went to a back alley in another part of the district to try again. Just before she entered another, similar courtyard, she nearly bumped into a nondescript man carrying a stack of crates out the back of one of the workshops.

“Oh?” The man peeked around the boxes, “If it isn’t Miss Baraja! I haven’t seen you around the city for a while.”

Does it even matter what kind of mask I’m wearing?

She waved away the thought and greeted the man with a nod.

“I’ve been out of the city,” she said. “I’m sorry for not being able to recall your name, but…”

“Abrigo,” the man told her. “Pol Abrigo. My boys and I joined around the time the army took Prart.”

“It’s nice to see you again, Mister Abrigo,” Neia said. “A lot of things have happened since I was last in Hoburns.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement, Miss Baraja. It feels like the damn war all over again. Actually, I may prefer the Demihumans from back then to our new customers.”

“What have they been doing?”

“Plenty. Crowding the city, walking around like they own the place. Picking through our shops in their gangs while complaining about the prices. The gods know it’s hard enough for us to get by without all that thrown in…actually, maybe there’s something you can explain to me…”

“What is it?” Neia asked.

“The fact that they’re complaining about the prices at all,” Mister Abrigo said. “I know they’re from the country where stuff’s cheaper, but their reaction about prices in the city seem more than a bit off.”

“Ah, about that…the newcomers are surprised because things are only that expensive in the towns and cities of the northern Holy Kingdom. Actually, it’s not even all of the north: just the lands managed by the royalist houses.”

Several people from the shophouses nearby poked their gaunt faces out of the doors and windows surrounding the alley, drawn by the conversation. Neia pondered her unexpected audience. Going by the reactions of the people along the northern coast, she wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to disclose everything she knew. The last thing she wanted was to create a mob of angry citizens while Hoburns was surrounded by an army.

“So those rumours from the western districts were true?” A housewife in one of the windows above her asked.

“What did you hear?” Neia looked up at her.

“That they’ve been getting things cheaper than the rest of the city. It’s sort of confusing, though. They use some special coin that’s good for one of the camps outside. Some other people say that it’s just a trick by the Nobles to get the people to side with them.”

“Is there any evidence of those rumours?” Neia asked, “Have people actually gotten things from the labour camps?”

“Seems like it,” the housewife said. “Sometimes, a trickle comes through to us from friends and such. The houses in the other districts keep an eye out for it, though. They treat it like smuggling.”

What did that mean? As far as Neia knew, the royalists all did the same thing everywhere and Hoburns was surrounded by royalists. Why would that behaviour have changed?

“Could you tell me which houses are doing this?”

“Just one. House Restelo.”

House Restelo, again?

She seemed fated to bump into them one way or another. Was that why the conservatives were camping on House Resteslo’s side of the wall? An uneasy feeling filled her at the prospect of her allies joining hands with the ones that had killed Mister Lousa.

What would she do if that was the case? There was no way she or her people could accept it.

“I’d like to see this for myself,” Neia said. “Saye, do you think it’s possible?”

“You know, we walked right through their jurisdiction on the way to the Water Ga–”

Neia clapped her hand over the Bard’s mouth. The bystanders gave her curious looks.

“Mister Abrigo,” Neia said, “do you think any of your neighbours would like to hear about the Sorcerer King’s wisdom?”

“I’m not sure if it’s a question about liking it or not,” the man replied, “it’s the plain truth, isn’t it?”

“You’re right,” she nodded. “I suppose I was just asking whether there’d be people here to listen to me speak today.”

“In the evening,” Mister Abrigo told her. “After dinner. We always have a dozen or so people in the courtyard here chatting or whatnot.”

“Great,” Neia grinned, “I’ll be back this evening, then. Oh, if you know any members of the Sorcerer King Rescue Corps in the city who would like to attend, please feel free to contact them. That applies to anyone you think should come, I guess.”

Mister Abrigo set his crates down along the wall of his workshop and dusted off his hands.

“I’ll be glad to tell them,” he said. “You make it sound as if there are people who shouldn’t come, though.”

“For now,” Neia replied, “I’d like to keep it to the residents of the city. Don’t bring any of the Nobles or their men. With the way things are right now, that will only cause trouble.”

They parted ways and left the back alleys, stopping at the edge of the crowded street. It was still mid-morning, so there was plenty of time to investigate the claims about House Restelo. After noting the location of the alley, Neia joined the flow of traffic southwest around the city.

“Saye,” Neia asked, “did you notice anything odd about the western districts last night?”

“You were right there with me…”

“It was so crowded! I was preoccupied with all of the retainers in the street, so I didn’t get a good look at the district itself.”

“The residents that I did see looked better fed than the ones here,” Saye told her. “They said House Restelo is up to something, but it could be anything at all.”

“I bet it has something to do with the conservatives,” Neia said. “At first, I thought the conservatives were there because their territories are west of Hoburns, too. With what we’ve seen and heard, though…do you think they’re jumping ship to join the conservatives?”

It would explain the change in their behaviour when it came to controlling Hoburns. Though what they considered an appropriate response differed from what Neia and her followers advocated, the conservatives didn’t like what the royalists were doing in the north any more than she did. House Restelo would be required to clean up its act if it was to join the Duke’s faction.

“If that’s true,” Saye said, “then they must have been making arrangements for a long time.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because of what I said before. The residents in the western quarter are closer in condition to the people working in the Water Gardens than they are to the ones in the other common areas of the city. People who have been starving for a long time don’t just suddenly recover overnight. It takes months to go back to normal.”

That was true. She had come across many starving people during and after the war. Weeks of care only got them back to the point where they wouldn’t die. It took much longer for them to regain their weight and return to normal functioning.

Most of Hoburns’ citizens weren’t on the verge of death, but they were clearly malnourished. What one could afford to eat simply wasn’t enough for a working individual.

“Do you think the conservatives would do that?” Neia said as they stopped to let a patrol of armsmen pass, “Invite the enemy of one of their allies to join them?”

“Hmm…I wonder if they see it that way,” Saye said. “Nobles are used to dealing with different people in different situations. When it comes to other Nobles, they usually have to put up with them for their entire lives, enemy or not. If the situation calls for cooperation, then they’ll do what they can to make things work. Never mind Nobles, life is full of unsatisfactory compromises for most people.”

“But they’re murderers,” Neia scowled. “House Restelo needs to be brought to justice!”

“You got that right, woman.”

Neia started as a man joined their discussion. She backed away slightly at the sight of a royalist patrol behind him.

“Woah, there,” the man said in calming tones. “We’re not here to hurt you. Just overheard what you said.”

“Are you saying that House Restelo is doing that stuff here, too?” Saye asked.

“…too? Are you saying that they’ve killed people elsewhere?”

Saye nodded silently, staring up at the patrol sergeant with wide, fearful eyes. The man sighed and shook his head.

“I shouldn’t be surprised after what they’ve done in the city.”

“Shouldn’t the Holy Order have done something about them?” Neia asked.

“Oh, they’ve tried,” the man replied, “but Restelo’s a slippery lord with slippery followers. They’ve been terrifying the city for months and no one’s been able to bring them down.”

“But there are so many armsmen in Hoburns now,” Saye said. “We should be safe now, right?”

The man shook his head.

“I’m sorry to say that isn’t the case. They’ve changed a lot since they started acting out of sorts. It’s gotten so bad now that they have a swarm of Rogues stalking their jurisdiction at night.”

“R-Rogues?”

“Yeah. That isn’t even the worst of it. Restelo’s got a Demon working for him.”

“I’m pretty sure the Holy Order would have done something about that,” Neia said.

“The Holy Order’s full of idiots,” the patrol sergeant said. “They won’t do anything until it’s already too late. Even caught him once and let him go because they couldn’t prove he was guilty.”

“…so he’s not actually a Demon?”

“He may as well be a Demon wearing a Human face. Brazen as anything, too, smiling down on the streets in plain view. They say he’s an Ijaniya Assassin hired by Lord Restelo to do his dirty work, but the taint of his evil is spreading, I tell you.”

“Ij–” Neia paled, “When did this Assassin show up in the city?”

The patrol sergeant looked at his men.

“Around the beginning of last month?”

“Somewhere around there, maybe a bit before.”

Neia went cold as the patrol agreed on a rough date. It was about the same time that Hacienda Santiago had been raided and Iago Lousa and his closest men had been killed.

“I see,” she said. “Thank you for letting me know.”

She returned up the street, heading back the way she came.

“Where are you going?” Saye asked after she caught up with her.

“Back to the Water Gardens,” Neia replied. “I need to get my bow.”