Chapter 5
The dark surface of the Gate spell widened over the gravelly flats, between the yards piled high with timber and the now conspicuously drained marshes of the floodplain. It hovered there silently for a full minute, and Ludmila furrowed her brow as she waited for something – for anything – to come out. Her finger tapped impatiently against her arm: with everything that was going on, the delay felt like it stretched on for an inordinate period of time.
A snout eventually poked out, its olive scales glistening in the sunlight, nostrils testing the air. Then it stopped, remaining where it was: a single Lizardman snout, just floating in the air. Ludmila’s frown deepened. What would happen if the Gate closed right then and there?
She didn’t get her chance to find out, however, as several vibrant green streaks shot out of the portal. Excited squeals filled the air as they darted about, and the hovering snout finally pushed through.
“Wait!” A woman’s voice cried out.
Several other Lizardmen spilt through, chasing after the green streaks. One of the streaks collided with Ludmila’s leg. A miniature Lizardman – a lizardling? – bounced off and went sprawling to the ground. The Lizardman chasing it froze not two metres away, glancing up at Ludmila, down to the figure lying at her feet and back again. The parent…probably?
Ludmila leaned over and reached down, stretching her hand out towards the Lizardman child.
“Noooooo!”
Ludmila looked back up at the woman’s sorrowful cry. The Lizardman – Lizardwoman? – held out some sort of object in front of her. Ludmila frowned. What did it mean? Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a carved amulet; somewhat similar to the emblem found on the flag of the Sorcerous Kingdom.
“…is that supposed to do something?” Ludmila asked.
The mother’s jaw fell open upon hearing Ludmila’s reply. She glanced down one more time at her child, then threw herself flat to the ground.
“M-mercy!” She cried, “Mercy, please! She’s only six months old – she didn’t mean anything!”
The Lizardmen exiting the Gate gathered some distance away, their attention riveted on the unfolding scene. A few spoke quietly between themselves worriedly, while others held their hands before their half-opened mouths. A few covered their eyes as if some great tragedy was imminent.
“Well, you’ve certainly wasted no time instilling fear into your new subjects.”
Ludmila turned her attention in the direction of the new voice. Lady Shalltear approached from the direction of the still-open portal, black parasol idly twirling over her left shoulder.
“Good Afternoon, Lady–”
As she went to curtsey, she found the Lizardman child at her feet still, looking up at her with its huge eyes. She supposed that they were a bit cute in their own way.
『I think your mother wants you back.』
It blinked once before it got back up and tottered off. The mother snatched it once it got close enough and scurried away.
“Good Afternoon, Lady Shalltear,” Ludmila was finally able to make a proper greeting.
“Good Afternoon, Lady Zahradnik,” Lady Shalltear smiled as she went to stand beside her. “You seem to be off to a wonderful start with these immigrants.”
“I’m not sure just what it is that I did,” Ludmila’s gaze followed the fearful mother as she rejoined the other families that were arriving through the Gate. “She held up some sort of icon in my direction – do you know what that was all about?”
“Maybe she was trying to turn you?”
“I’m reasonably certain that I cannot be turned, my lady – do Lizardmen even have Clerics?”
“They have those who hold the title of priest,” Lady Shalltear said, “but it seems that they’re the druidic sort. If your objective wasn’t to scare them witless, then perhaps you should stop looking like you’re about to bite their heads off.”
Ludmila sighed, massaging her face with her fingers in an effort to clear away whatever expression she had on her face. Ever since her return to Warden’s Vale, the events of the morning caused her worries to sharply mount. She took several deep breaths to calm down, yet her agitation remained.
As they watched the Lizardmen continue passing through the Gate with their belongings, a small frown appeared on Lady Shalltear’s face.
“Are you alright, my lady?” Ludmila asked.
“I’m fine,” Lady Shalltear answered. “It’s just that they’re taking their sweet time. I was thinking that summoning some Undead to carry all of their luggage would have been more mana efficient than holding the Gate open for so long. I’ll just have to keep it in mind next time I have to move people around.”
“Thank you for your help with this,” Ludmila said. “I wasn’t sure how they were supposed to make their way over here all the way from the north.”
“Moving things around is usually my job, anyways,” Lady Shalltear waved her hand dismissively. “I just hope no one catches on to the fact that I can move grain around like the other day. I don’t mind helping you out, but if I had to do it for the entire duchy, I would be tied down for months.”
“Well, I don’t wish to impose on you any more than I absolutely need to. I don’t think we’ll have anything resembling proper shipyards for the next year or so, though. Maybe I should get to rebuilding the old bridge and laying down those new roads that Liane and Clara have been working on with the Dwarves.”
Chief Esess appeared out of the group of Lizardmen gathering on the dried-out shore, walking up to stand before them. He dipped his head several times before speaking.
“Lady Shalltear,” he said, “Lady Zahradnik. We have completed moving all of our belongings.”
The Gate closed, and Ludmila looked past the Lizardman Chieftain at her new subjects. After some negotiation, the new Chief Esess had persuaded Lord Cocytus to allow 160 of the villagers from the Great Lake in Tob Forest to make the move.
“Are there any outstanding issues that require my attention, Chief Esess?” Ludmila asked.
“No, my lady,” he replied. “Well…they are mostly unsettled at the sight of the dry floodplain, though I explained what was going on in advance. I will put them to work right away.”
“I will be in my manor this afternoon, should you need anything further,” Ludmila told him.
Kesstris bobbed his head towards them one last time before turning around to see to his duties. Out of the corner of her eye, Ludmila saw Lady Shalltear smiling slightly.
“Does something amuse you, my lady?” Ludmila asked.
“He’s picking up your accent,” the smile widened.
“My acc–well, I suppose he would,” Ludmila said. “I’ve been training him for weeks on everything he needs to know. Reading and writing were the first of it…though I’m not sure how he’d pick up my accent from learning Re-Estize script.”
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Ludmila motioned for Lady Shalltear to accompany her to the manor, her need to be with her liege in private pressing her to the edge of what she would consider improper. Not that rushing would help her – the issues brewing to the south needed to be worked out thoroughly.
“What are your immediate plans for them?” Lady Shalltear asked as they made their way to the harbour village.
“The marsh is still undergoing Lord Mare’s alterations,” Ludmila replied, “so Chief Esess is having the construction of their homes done in advance. They should be in place before water is redirected onto its new course to refill the new lake and marsh. The ones not doing anything will be collecting the exposed bog ore all around the floodplain.”
Though there was still one last farming village that needed to have its landscaping done, the remaining water in the floodplain had flowed into the new lake that Lord Mare had dug out in the north of the Vale. He was scheduled to finish his work over the next two weeks, including all of the changes they had discussed for the valley floor and the harbour town. With the Goblin army flowing into the upper reaches, it felt decidedly odd to be under imminent attack yet still have land development proceeding apace.
“Mare’s alterations, hm…” Lady Shalltear looked towards the empty marsh, “This entire thing seems quite ambitious. My heart would explode if I were to even think about any alterations to my demesne, yet here you are doing all this at once.”
“It’s essentially the foundation for all development along the valley floor, my lady,” Ludmila said. “Nothing will be able to begin down here until it is completed.”
“Hrn. Well, you know better than me when it comes to these things.”
Ludmila snorted derisively.
“I wonder about that,” she said. “The more I learn, the more ignorant I feel. There are too many missing pieces that I require for future development. I think that I’ll have to travel at some point to see how other nations do things. The Empire will probably be the first stop once things settle down here.”
“If you’re planning on heading there,” Lady Shalltear told her, “maybe you can kill two birds with one stone. Though they’ve become subordinate to us, there is an astonishing amount of resistance to the idea of Undead labour. Perhaps adding a Human touch would help – you’re probably the best acquainted with the use of His Majesty’s servitors when it comes to their various applications.”
“I would be glad to help in any way I can, my lady,” Ludmila replied, “but difficulties in adopting Undead labour in the Empire are most likely less due to its practicality and more due to the stance of their temples.”
“This again, huh,” Lady Shalltear muttered. “The temples of the Four Great Gods in the Sorcerous Kingdom are still clammed up after all this time – we’re not even doing anything to them! You’d think that not being flattened despite their bigoted views would have them returning to regular operations after four months.”
“Perceptions rooted in faith are hard to turn,” Ludmila said. “The northern kingdoms are strongholds of The Four – it will take more than a handful of months of not being squashed by His Majesty’s might to change their minds about a great many things. To sway the heart of the Empire – or even worse, Roble – would take a miracle of legendary proportions.”
Ludmila felt Lady Shalltear fall behind, and she turned to see what was wrong. Lady Shalltear was standing on the village lane, looking up at her with a furrow on her brow. After a moment, she shook her head and resumed their ascent to the manor.
“There are no worries about low-tier Undead,” Lady Shalltear told her, “It’s the mid-tier Undead – the Death-series servitors, in particular – that are collecting dust. Neighbouring nations just uniformly baulk at our offer.”
Collecting dust.
Her liege’s words fanned the embers of anger that she had been trying to stifle until they returned to her manor. She cleared her throat before speaking, just in case any of it leaked out.
“I’m not surprised, my lady,” Ludmila said. “Death series summons and Soul Eaters would be an untenable risk to nearly every nation. They are fundamentally His Majesty’s creations, so a country must consider what would occur if they were turned against them for any reason.”
“Preposterous,” Lady Shalltear sniffed. “If we wanted to use our forces against them, we wouldn’t be wasting time trying to lease them out.”
“I suppose it’s the principle of it. A dependency on foreign security carries substantial risks, while also being a blow to national pride.”
“Well, I still think it’s worth the attempt,” Lady Shalltear told her. “You have a certain way about you that inspires the confidence of others – it’s quite insidious.”
Ludmila did not believe that she was doing anything insidious. If anything, she was just putting her best effort into things and trying to be as genuine as she could while she clumsily felt her way forward.
Lady Shalltear’s parasol vanished before they entered the manor, and they made their way to the table in the living area. Wiluvien and Nonna lowered their heads at her approach.
“Welcome, Lady Shalltear,” Wiluvien said.
Lady Shalltear acknowledged their greeting before turning her attention to the map on the table.
“Oh…so this is our invasion…”
“To be honest, my lady, I’d rather it be someone else’s invasion at the moment.”
“Come now, Ludmila,” Lady Shalltear smiled, “this is right up your alley, yes? Take it from me: things can get too quiet, and it can become quite unbearable. You just sit there – twiddling your thumbs and praying for a chance to prove your worth as a defender of the realm.”
“That might be the case if I felt I was ready to be tested,” Ludmila admitted, “but this timing is simply obnoxious. It’s as if they were waiting for just this point in time to rear their ugly heads.”
Such was the crux of her frustrations. At the urging of Lady Shalltear, Lady Aura and Lord Mare, she had taken up the management of the entire southwestern border – the former holdings of the other Frontier Lords. The change was so recent that all she had was a map from Lady Aura and a few ideas about how to defend it tumbling about in her imagination. She certainly did not have anything that resembled a comprehensive defensive scheme for the entire border.
The only saving grace was that Aura’s maps reassured her that the only way north into the duchy was a series of passes that crossed the gap between the range to her east and the rest of the southern border ranges. Unfortunately, that gap was also nearly eighty kilometres across.
“You know,” Lady Shalltear murmured, “I’ve seen these pieces from somewhere before…”
“Really?” Ludmila said, “Well, it is a fairly widespread game. The pieces just ended up being used for the map since I don’t have any proper markers yet. I originally imported a bunch of things in an attempt to provide some sort of quiet recreation for my subjects. There are things to do aplenty outdoors, but we’re far from the city in terms of this sort of thing.”
“So you don’t play?”
“It’s a popular game amongst the inner nobility,” Ludmila replied, “but I’m not much for it.”
“That’s surprising, I figured a militant noble would love this sort of thing.”
“A militant noble would be too busy doing the real thing. The inland nobility – at least those with fanciful aspirations to militancy – are the ones that love it. They believe that being able to best others at this game reflects their tactical and strategic acumen. They especially loved to play against my father or my brothers, since it apparently proved them superior to us in a field that we were supposed to be experts in.”
“Then why did you bring this game in if you hate it so much?”
“It’s not that I hate it,” Ludmila said, “I just don’t think it’s in any way an accurate representation of even the lightest skirmish. The real world is not a perfectly flat board with perfectly fashioned spaces. We never see everything our opponents do – or our allies, for that matter. People don’t always move exactly as you want or expect them to, and the results between combatants are never so arbitrary. There are barely any logistical elements to this game, and…well, it’s just idle entertainment, at best.”
There was a tapping noise, and Nonna went to retrieve the Bone Vulture that was pecking away at the door. She and Wiluvien set about updating the map. Over the course of the morning, seven new Goblin encampments had appeared, and Ludmila wondered if it would slow down any time soon. After updating the map, Nonna left to attend to matters around the village, bringing the Bone Vulture with her.
After the door quietly closed, Ludmila broached the pressing topic that she wanted to address.
“My lady,” Ludmila said, “is my perception of His Majesty’s Undead forces skewed in some way?”
“How do you mean?”
“After taking a look at what was entering the basin last night, I had a form requesting additional forces submitted to the administration in E-Rantel. It was rejected within the hour, saying that what I possessed was already more than sufficient to deal with what was described in the report I attached to the request.”
“I believe you have eleven Death Knights here,” Lady Shalltear tapped her chin lightly. “That should be more than sufficient, no?”
“Nonna said much the same thing,” Ludmila replied. “Even after going over my rationale with her, I’m not sure if she agrees. It’s said that Death Knights can destroy a small country, but I feel that this idea is used as an arbitrary and irrational measure of what is required for any given situation.”
Lady Shalltear took a sip from the tea that Wiluvien had laid out for them, looking down at the map for several moments before speaking.
“You realize that you’re possibly the only Human that has come up to the administration and stated that nearly a dozen Death Knights are insufficient for your purposes, yes? I can imagine one of those Elder Liches choking on its own dust as it reviewed your request.”
“It was a frank assessment of the situation,” Ludmila said. “I am duty-bound to do so…have you read the report?”
“No, I was in Feoh Berkana earlier this morning,” Lady Shalltear replied, “then I went to deliver the Lizardmen after that. Just looking at what you have here, however, I do not see any issues. Your family has defended this place for generations: why do you believe that there will be any problems now?”
“It’s because we’ve been conducting our defence in a particular way since the establishment of our house,” Ludmila said, “but in the present circumstances, this strategy will fail.”