Chapter 27

The carriage slowed as they joined the queue awaiting entry into E-Rantel.

“When was the last time we’ve had to wait to enter the city?”

“Not since autumn?” Liane replied to Florine’s question with a smug grin.

She popped a wedge of roasted potato into her mouth as the carriage rolled to a stop, and Clara shook her head.

Liane had been so confident of the outcome of her scheme that she even had lunch prepared to enjoy at their leisure through the delay. The first day of the grand opening had been booked with several appointments which they decided to attend together to create a stronger platform for themselves.

“You engineered all of this," Clara said, "the moment they get into the city, they’ll know they've been played.”

“Everyone I contacted knows exactly what the play is without saying so,” Liane replied. “They see it for what it is and will take advantage of the traffic we’ve created for them. Only a fool would be angry over being provided with a lucrative opportunity for free.”

Clara could not fault her rationale but, as a merchant, Liane was by far the most ambitious and calculating between them. She was even bold enough to enlist the Royal Court to bend three whole nations to her will.

“It won’t be as effective if you try this again any time soon,” Clara said.

“Once is enough,” Liane said. “We have all the attention we need now.”

A trio of shadows crossed overhead. Through the window filtered the reaction of nervous horses; their drivers attempting to maintain control. Their own carriage remained undisturbed. After the unsettled commotion from the foreign visitors quieted outside, the carriage rolled forward another length.

"Who are we meeting with today anyways?" Clara asked.

“Hmm…there were a handful of representatives from prominent merchant companies based beyond the City State Alliance,” Liane said.

Clara rolled her eyes.

“You’re really not holding back, are you?” She muttered.

“I see no reason to,” Liane replied lightly. “This is a new era for all of us: let the others stay distracted with local offerings while we extend our influence outside of the immediate region.”

“I used to think that Ludmila would be seen as the scariest one out of all of us,” Clara said, “but now I’m not so sure…”

“You actually believe that?” Liane scoffed, “I got nothing on–”

Voices rose ahead of their carriage, and Liane opened the driver window.

“What goin’ on?” She asked.

“It’s the caravan right ahead of us, my lady,” the driver answered. “Looks like they couldn’t handle the customs inspection.”

Clara peeked ahead out of the window beside her. The wagon in front of them bore the sigil of a company from the Empire – one of the regional merchant lines that regularly operated between Arwintar and Hoburns. Clara opened her door and stepped out onto the freshly repaved road. One of the footmen attending to the carriage fell in line behind her as she made her way up the procession of vehicles. After passing three wagons, she found two of the city militia, an Elder Lich and a Death Knight standing near a wagon in the middle of the caravan.

The teamster driving the wagon and two labourers were filling the air with their panicked shouts. One of the city militia was trying to shout over their shouting as the Elder Lich looked on. The Death Knight had raised its guard and its massive flamberge loomed over them.

“What is going on here?” Her voice cut through the clamour.

She did not raise her voice – instead projecting it through her ability. The men immediately stopped and turned their gazes in her direction.

Ludmila would come and conduct experiments on occasion, particularly when she discovered something new, and they could spend hours pursuing some strange new ability or findings on previously discovered ones. Some Clara appeared to share in common with her friend, others she had absolutely no success with. The tentatively labeled Voice of Authority was one of the former.

It saved her quite a lot of shouting; in this case it had immediately suspended their shouting as well. The two city militia bowed as soon as they realized who had addressed them.

“Countess Corelyn,” one of them said. “Our apologies for the delay. We were just performing a standard inspection, but the men crewing this wagon reacted…poorly.”

She looked to the wagon crew: they were grown men all, with the look of well weathered and experienced caravan labourers.

“Is this the first time this has happened today?” She asked, looking back at the customs officer.

“Yes, my lady,” the customs officer answered. “Traffic just started arriving about an hour ago; this is the first lot that broke. Was something we were expecting to happen eventually, but this reaction is far beyond how the locals were when things started returning to normal. They were about to go for their weapons right before you arrived.”

Clara felt her lips turn down slightly. What would they even hope to gain by fighting a customs inspection? According to Ludmila, even a single Death Knight would take a large party of unspecialized Adamantite Adventurers an extended battle to overcome – assuming they were even prepared to deal with one. Beyond that, it was unheard of for a merchant to attack the officials of the very city they were trying to conduct trade in.

“The caravan master has submitted to this customs inspection,” she looked at the officer, who nodded. “Why are you defying your employer’s decision? I hope you’re not trying to smuggle anything…that would end quite poorly for you.”

The suggestion that they might be doing something illegitimate got through to the driver, who straightened to speak.

“I-it’s all like it says on the manifest, my lady,” his trembling voice had a hint of indignation, “it’s all legal. Unless something’s changed…”

“None of our commercial regulations have changed,” Clara replied calmly, “and I do not think your employer is paying you to create delays.”

The driver reluctantly nodded and the inspection team came forward. After a few steps, one of the crew members started shouting again.

“Back, you unholy monster!” The man held out a chain from which the symbol of the Four Great Gods swung back and forth.

The inspection team stopped again, and the Death Knight brandished its flamberge menacingly. Clara eyed the holy symbol: like Ludmila, she was a follower of the Six Great Gods, so the icon held no special significance to her beyond the vague notion that it was a product of heresy. Regardless, the secular governments of the northern Human nations – and by extension the Sorcerous Kingdom, which had adopted the laws of Re-Estize – meant that faith had no direct influence on policy and law.

“Is this man a priest?” She asked.

The driver shook his head, and Clara turned to the Elder Lich and the Death Knight.

“Are you two alright? Is that symbol even doing anything?”

“The effects are negligible,” it replied.

It actually did? They were lucky that the Death Knight didn’t just swat them out of existence. There were special orders issued for the occasion, with the understanding that something like this might happen. These orders, however, only covered a certain extent of behaviour. She looked up at the Death Knight, then back at the panicking man.

“Just what in the world are you hoping to accomplish?” She asked.

“I won’t let them take me,” he said in a tremulous voice, “I’ve devoted my soul to the gods! No Undead monster is gonna to eat me!”

“That is preposterous,” Clara said, lightly brushing her fingers over the Death Knight’s elbow. “They are not going to eat you.”

The Death Knight lowered its flamberge.

“The Undead stationed here are civil servants acting according to His Majesty's bidding, and you are wasting everyone’s time.” Clara turned to the inspection team, “You men guide this fellow away from the wagon. Once he is away, continue with your work. The next time this happens, do not hesitate to move impediments safely out of the way. This traffic will only increase, and extended delays will reflect poorly on the order of His Majesty’s city.”

She watched as the man was walked away from the wagon by the two city militia. The Death Knight came forward to draw the tarp back off of the wagon while the Elder Lich rose to compare its contents with the manifest in its hand. After a handful of minutes, it descended from the wagon and cast a spell.

“「All Appraisal Magic Item」.”

Its eyes scanned the wagon one last time before moving on to the next vehicle.

Clara could feel the gazes of the caravan labourers upon her as she made her way back to the carriage. Florine was looking up at her with sparkly eyes while Liane wore her impish smirk.

“Ah, the graceful Countess Corelyn,” she proclaimed in bawdy tones. “The mere sound of her beautiful voice stills the tongues of quarreling men; with but a gentle touch of her fair fingers, she soothes legendary Undead capable of ruining nations."

Clara poked her index finger towards Liane’s ribs, but the girl deftly danced away with a laugh, disappearing into the carriage.

“We taught you both how to use that ability already,” Clara said as she reseated herself, “and I’m sure the Death Knight was just playing along: they aren’t mindless, you know.”

“Hmph,” Liane crossed her arms, “you say that I’m the one that does bold things, but here you are making a legend for yourself. By the end of summer you’re going to have an endless procession of suitors courting you.”

Clara did not really look forward to that. Well, maybe she would have, but there were so many things that she wanted to do now that there was nowhere near enough time to find a proper consort, never mind starting a family. Perhaps, when things settled down, she might be able to settle down as well. If they ever settled down.

“I will post an Elder Lich that they can spew their flowery poems at,” she said. “If you are waiting for me to begin things on that front, think again. In fact, since you’re nowhere near as busy as I am right now, perhaps it is something you should pursue while you can.”

“Geh!” Liane recoiled as her playful teasing was turned against her.

“Maybe we can try the Empire?” Florine mused, “There’s a distinct lack of eligible candidates here and, after seeing what was going on out west, I don’t even want to think about looking in Re-Estize. Liane has plenty of connections in Arwintar and some of the other cities…”

“Or maybe we could just issue portraits of Florine in something outrageous instead,” Liane traced an absurd cut in the air. “They’ll come swarming here with just a glance. That way we won't have to waste our time wandering around.”

Florine rose and started hitting Liane in the arm.

“Help, my Lady Corelyn!” Liane laughed, “The Demon of Fertile Hills is upon me again~”

Clara smiled at the pair. Liane was very sensitive to their group’s collective mood: whenever she thought they needed some energy, she seemed to always be ready to pick up their spirits. To everyone else, she was a shrewd and ruthless magnate’s daughter, but to her friends, she was a playful and reliable companion.

The carriage rolled forward again, and Florine settled back into her seat. They slowed as they approached the gatehouse, then picked up speed again as they were waved through by the men at the checkpoint. Traveling through the military district, they passed row upon row of Undead labourers stretching out into the distance. In order to minimize the traffic issues resulting from thousands of Undead transitioning between order and assignment, they were mustered in the inactive district during the night, had their equipment delivered to them during the day, then sent out to the territories after traffic slowed again in the evening.

It took several minutes to traverse through the district to the next gatehouse, which led into the common area of the city. Within, the full scale of the preparations that had been made could be seen all around. Festive flags of every colour fluttered on lines drawn over streets which had been scoured until the cobblestones gleamed in the sunlight. The buildings had been re-paneled and repainted, fresh shutters thrown open and lined with planters filled with vibrant flowers. The air was filled with the sounds of civilization that only a city could have, and the atmosphere was abuzz with excitement from both residents and visitors alike.

The citizens strode through the streets purposefully with unworried expressions and occasionally small groups of children, released from their regular tasks in assisting their parents, played raucous games that only they seemed to understand the rules of. They did not care at all that they fought imaginary battles around the legs of the Death Knights posted at every corner, or that they would occasionally almost overrun an Elder Lich that was on some administrative errand from one part of the city to another.

Visitors could only stare in disbelief at the juxtaposition of life and death that played out before their very eyes. Overhead, flights of Dragons glided across the clear azure skies while Liches streaked over the rooftops. As the crisp northern winds banished the heat rising from the pavement, the women looked out from their carriage with a nascent sense of pride stirring in their hearts. In their own small way, they had contributed to this scene: merely a glimpse of the brilliant future which lay ahead of them all.

The Sorcerous Kingdom would rise – to the awe and wonder of the world.