Chapter 9

“I’d have never thought to use that on a child,” Clara said after Liam and Saye were led out of sight.

“I wanted to make sure that he knew what he was getting into,” Ludmila replied. “A part of me was hoping that he didn’t; I cannot rightly consider him a child any longer. He’s well aware of what he’s doing.”

Liane and Florine followed their exchange with blank expressions.

“Er…what did she use again?” Liane said.

Clara looked to Ludmila, and she nodded in return.

“An ability,” Clara explained. “The Voice of Authority. Well, that’s what we’ve ended up calling it – you’ve probably heard of it before in one form or another…maybe you’ve experienced it directly from members of your family?”

Liane furrowed her brow in befuddlement and Florine mouthed the words several times.

“Th-that’s just a Bard’s embellishment, isn’t it?” Liane said after a moment, “Something for overblown stories and stupid daydreams. At the most it’s when our parents yell really loud and people shut up to listen.”

She laughed nervously at her own words, but the laughter died away when Ludmila and Clara shook their heads.

“It’s a real thing,” Clara replied. “I can do it as well. We don’t know what exactly is required, but once you understand what it is and how to use it, it’s not very hard at all.”

“Does that mean Florine and I will be able to do it too?” Liane asked.

“Probably,” Ludmila answered. “At least, at some point you should be able to. It took an afternoon to help Clara figure it out, though – and she thought I had gone crazy half the time. When we’re not so busy, I’m sure we can teach the both of you as well. What’s more important to realize is that the Undead labour and powerful armies are not the only thing that has come with the Sorcerous Kingdom.”

“I never said I thought you were crazy…” Clara frowned.

“Uh huh,” Ludmila replied in a flat voice.

“What do you mean by that?” Florine said. “What’s come with the Sorcerous Kingdom, I mean – not the going crazy thing.”

“What will have the greatest impact on our lives is knowledge and the perspective it brings,” Ludmila replied. “The Sorcerous Kingdom brings with it both a mountain of knowledge and the perspective granted by such a vantage. Even at a fundamental level, His Majesty and his servants see many things in a way that is entirely foreign to how we view the world around us. If you’ve started working with the Administrative Liches, you might have already noticed hints of that. Their ways will slowly change our own and, as we become more like them, we will become just as foreign to the rest of the world as His Majesty’s servants currently are to us.”

“Ludmila is descended from Adventurers,” Clara said, “so when she started talking more like one, I didn’t think much of it. But after the time that we spent together figuring out this ability, I realized that she is starting to use terms and concepts that were entirely unknown to me as well – I had to stop her several times to explain what they meant.”

“This change…is it a good thing, or a bad thing?” Florine asked worriedly.

“What results from this change is understanding,” Ludmila said, “which is neither a good or bad thing in itself. When Clara says that I speak more like an Adventurer, she does not mean that my manner of speech has become more coarse. Even before our time, Adventurers have measured the world in a different manner – in terms of abilities and tiers; special vocations, ranks and ratings. Lady Shalltear structures her perception along many similar lines, but the heights of her understanding extend far beyond that of Adventurers. His Majesty and his servants tower so high above us that I cannot imagine that we would ever reach those same heights of power, but this does not stop us from obtaining useful knowledge and finding ways to apply it to our own lives.”

“Surely they wouldn’t freely distribute too much of this knowledge,” Liane said. “As you say, understanding is neither a good or a bad thing, but it can certainly lead to unwelcome outcomes. Untempered knowledge is entirely out of the question, given that they understand what it would entail.”

“I cannot guess where they would draw that particular line,” Ludmila replied, “but what they already offer is enough to change, well, everything. The unthinkable has become common, and a new world of possibilities is now within reach. The three of you should understand all of its far-reaching implications in a greater scope than I am capable of. When Clara spoke to Jacqueline Fassett, she mentioned the prosperity that the future holds: she was not merely referring to cheap labour and easy lives. The citizens of the Sorcerous Kingdom stand at the forefront of changes that will overshadow the world, and House Fassett is too wrapped up in their petty squabble to see that they are in the process of denying this future to their people.”

“Realizing this future is a part of our duty, now,” Clara said. “Everyone here has seen the administrative materials and resources. They present various concepts to us, but the prescribed applications are nowhere near perfect. We are not one-sidedly receiving everything we need: it requires many people to turn such things into reality – as nobles, we are responsible for leading our people through these times of change.”

Clara turned her attention back to the folders of documents on the table, leaving Liane and Florine to digest what had been said. The others followed suit. Early in the afternoon, Wiluvien appeared with a new folder as they were being served lunch.

“How is Liam faring?” Ludmila asked as Wiluvien placed the folder beside the others on the table.

“He shows no ill effects from his injuries,” her maid replied, “and is fitting in quite well…though I suppose it shouldn’t be a surprise. Children in his circumstances inevitably learn that information has value, and in understanding that value he is able to assist in our efforts here quite handily.”

Wiluvien’s expression did not match her words. Rather than seeming appreciative of his contributions, her lips turned in a small frown.

“Is something the matter?” Ludmila could not help but match her expression.

“He does not trust you, my lady,” Wiluvien said sourly.

“Even from what little I’ve reviewed here so far,” Ludmila said, “trust would not come easily to anyone in this place.”

“You saved his life!” Wiluvien protested, “You gave him a place to rest, clothing to wear, food to eat. My lady has even pledged her protection over his family, but in return he holds only doubt and suspicion.”

“Suspicion? How do you mean?”

“He believes that everything is a ploy,” her maid replied. “That your benevolence is merely a debt incurred to chain him to your whims.”

“If it bothers him, that means he also won’t suddenly disappear on us, doesn’t it?”

“As one who has received my lady’s grace,” Wiluvien fumed, “I cannot suffer to see such ingratitude. My sister is going to hurl him off that cliff if she wakes up to witness this behaviour.”

Ludmila glanced past the opening of the pavilion to the overlook, then back to Wiluvien.

“He may not express his gratitude,” Ludmila smiled slightly, “but it seems that he understands obligation. Trust will come with time. Make sure Lluluvien knows not to do anything rash.”

“Yes, my lady,” Wiluvien’s voice was sullen, but it had lost most of its previous edge.

The Elf chambermaid curtsied to the ladies at the table, then left the pavilion to return to her work.

“Do you really take no issue with using children like this?” Florine asked.

She washed down her lunch with a glass of chilled Kutz juice. A maid came forward to refill the empty cup with more of the tart drink.

“Like what?” Ludmila asked without looking up from her notes.

“It just seems bad for children to be cooperating in this sort of thing,” Florine said. “They should be with their families, or doing something safe…not helping to dig up dirt on their hometown.”

“You heard the other girls from earlier this morning,” Liane said, “all of them are orphans. Being here is safer than some alley where they can simply be stolen away.”

“The Shadow Demons are doing most of the legwork,” Ludmila said. “I have no intention of making the children or any of our household servants go into town to do anything dangerous. They’re just helping fill the blanks in our knowledge with what they know.”

“It still feels twisted.” Florine said, “Everything about this fief is twisted. These kids don’t even question what it is we are asking of them – they already know, and they don’t give a whit either way.”

There was no argument there. Beyond their immediate reactions to being in the demesne of House Fassett, the morning’s work had quite easily discovered a myriad of illicit dealings, and that the townsfolk were willingly complicit in such activities. When they arrived, Ludmila had some hope that it would be a straightforward problem she could somehow deal with, but that had turned out to be wishful thinking.

She set down the notes and expelled a frustrated breath. Unlike a song or story where the good and the evil were clearly defined to be reviled by an audience, there were no dark figures to expose pulling the strings from the shadows, nor were there any long stretches of history where the territory’s population was unwillingly pressed into their actions. All that could be said was that House Fassett was remiss of its duties and had allowed its demesne to fall into the long and steady spiral of decline, creating dependencies that revolved around short term gains and opening doors which should have never been touched in the first place.

Generations of exposure to House Fassett’s administration and its results had affected the behaviour of the people as well. Ideas of law and order and the perception of the world around them had adapted to allow the population to survive their reality. It was their normal, and Ludmila suspected that even if she came upon a footpad standing over their latest victim, their response would not be one of guilt or shame – it was more likely that the criminal would simply ask her what the fine was so they could get on with their lives. As people were a product of their experiences and environment, so too had an entire culture grown in Fassett County to match.

The solution was beyond removing the leadership, or dealing with a handful of undesirable elements. There was no ‘good’ or ‘evil’ in such simplistic definition – there was only the reality that rose as a consequence of all that had happened. The people themselves had become the undesirable element within the greater context of the Sorcerous Kingdom, and she could see no easy way to turn them from the mire they had been steeped in for their entire lives. No quick and convenient magic or medicine existed that could heal multiple generations buried in social decay.

In the shade of the pavilion, the atmosphere grew darker with each passing hour as the sun shone blithely overhead. Wiluvien would occasionally appear to add to their pile of findings and see if there was anything specific they wanted to look into but, for the most part, the four noblewomen worked on in silence, compiling reports on the tasks they had divided between themselves.

With twilight approaching, one of Liane’s maids appeared.

“My ladies,” she said after paying her respects, “dinner is being laid out presently.”

“We’ll come out later,” Clara answered absently as she continued to work. “The rest of you may go ahead.”

Despite her focus, it took all of five minutes to tempt them out with the aroma of hot food and the idea of refreshment after the long afternoon of dismal toil. Seated outside of the pavilion around the table again, Florine broke the silence as they recovered in the cool evening breeze.

“Is it just me,” she asked as she stared absently at the town, “or does this place just seem to get even worse the more we sift through everything?”

Liane only answered with a languid groan as she slouched over the back of her chair. She seemed so fed up that she didn’t even care about her slovenly posture in plain view.

“There must be some way to salvage this,” Clara was adamant. “The first barony is actually perfectly fine.”

“Yes, and the next four are absolutely terrible,” Liane grumbled. “I can only imagine how bad the former Völkchenheim Barony is, given that that rat Campbell made his nest there.”

“I would like to see this baroness in the northeast,” Ludmila said. “She could have tipped the scales of this dispute either way, but she chose to remain neutral. Perhaps she might have a solution, her family having survived being under the Fassetts for so long.”

“I think their solution was simply keeping to themselves,” Liane countered. “Aside from meeting their explicit obligations, all of their practical ties are linked to Crosston to the south, which isn’t part of Fassett County. The barony itself is a relatively quiet and remote part of the duchy – even the Great Forest of Tob nearby doesn’t give them any problems for whatever reason.”

“We’re lucky that I drew the file for that barony,” Clara smirked. “If Ludmila had ended up with it she would have stared at it for hours trying to puzzle that particular detail out. We’re all like that when it comes to aspects to our respective fiefs, but this one is probably particularly frustrating for her.”

That was another reason why Ludmila had wanted to visit. It, too, was a frontier territory, but the records they had recovered indicated that no apparent efforts or expenditures had been made to defend against the primal forest to the north. She was curious how they could have managed such a thing – no, rather than being a curiosity, it was such an anomaly that she had to make an active effort to not think about how they had gotten away with it.

“I’ll find out one of these days,” Ludmila said. “For the time being, I don’t think we need to delay our initial preparations for dealing with the situation here, given what we’ve sifted through already.”