Tom laughed. “So let’s discuss the forces that are pushing for war. At least on the Kingdom side. I can’t really speak to Tribal politics.”

“Sure,” I said.

“To start with, Baron Marseau is heavily in favour. He rose to prominence through his prowess in battle, so he’s looking for a similar chance to rise further.”

“Can you increase your status if you lose the war?” I asked doubtfully. “As a soldier, shouldn’t he recognise a losing battle when he sees it?”

“It’s possible but certainly more challenging. Marseau would definitely prefer to be attacked, but I think he could be provoked into attacking. His first campaign was further west of here, on open ground, against a more traditional opponent.”

“Plus he’s easily provoked,” I said.

“That too,” Tom agreed. “His main advisers are split. Captain Guertin is for attacking, while Captain Boivin knows his griffins will be almost useless in the forest.”

“So can Baron Marseau start a war on his own?”

“No, he doesn’t have the men. He’d need reinforcements from nobles higher up the chain. So Duvost, Duke Bargougne, or the King.”

“Are they all in the capital at the moment?” I asked. I knew Aubert was there, so it seemed likely his boss would be present for his investiture.”

“Probably,” Tom said. “Though the King does have his representative present. He can get reports and send orders fairly quickly.”

“So am I worried over nothing? If the Baron can’t start a war…”

“A war is not going to start in the next few days,” Tom agreed. “However, there are tensions here, that can be inflamed or eased in the coming days. For example…”

He started talking about the various merchant factions, who were split on the idea of war. The basic summary seemed to be that the richer consortiums based in the capital were in favour of capturing new resources, while the ones actually based here would prefer a continuation of current trade. He went into details, but I glazed over them and relied on [Memorise] to take care of the details.

“What about the religions?” I asked eventually.

“Split as well,” he said. “Duit is known to favour the Kingdom while Naldyna supports the Tribes.”

“Is that tolerated?” I asked. “I mean there’s a big temple to Naldyna in the middle of town. I wouldn’t have thought the nobles would stand for a religion that’s openly against them.”

There was also the matter of the Temple aiding operations in the town that went against the ruling authorities. I’d thought at the time that they wouldn’t have been suspected of that, but if their opposition was generally known.

“Ah well… Churches are given a certain amount of leeway on such matters. Especially right now.”

“What? Why?” I asked. My eyes narrowed. “And why now?”

“It hasn’t happened in many years, but it is possible to provoke a God into smiting you. Or your city.”

“Oh,” I said. I guess it was different when Gods were real. “But then, why don’t the Churches just take over?”

He frowned in confusion. “They’re not really political organisations?”

It took a bit of conversation before we worked out we were talking past each other. I’d had the wrong idea about Churches. Direct control of territory or people by the Gods was just not done. Though, there were exceptions. Naldyna seemed to consider the northern wilderness to belong to her, and the Tribes lived in it with her permission. They revered her, but they weren’t ruled by her.

I’d thought that the Gods would muster their followers like troops in a war, but that wasn’t what they were about. Rather than recruiting, they tried to promote that God’s beliefs of how mortals should live their life. Organisation - beyond that of individual Temples - was unknown.

I supposed that, should they deem it necessary, a God could speak to each of their High Priests simultaneously, and manage the organisation directly.

“So Church and State just… ignore each other,” I said, bemused.

“Well normally,” Tom said. “But, well… you lot are here.”

“That changes things?” I asked, but of course it would.

“Champions often get involved in politics,” he said. “And they generally get the backing of the Church. And…” he broke off again.

“What?” I asked.

He sighed. “And the Gods have spent the last hundred years or so setting up things for you to fight over, situations calculated to generate conflict or co-operation. Knowing that Champions are within their borders is the sort of thing that makes rulers nervous. It just guarantees that something is going to blow up.”

“That’s why you master was so keen on getting a read on me?”

“That, and he wants a favour from a God,” Tom said, matter-of-factly.

“He thinks I can get him that?”

“Not directly…” Tom shrugged. “It’s difficult to negotiate with Gods. All you can do, apparently, is make yourself available near a situation with Champions in the hope that a God will find you useful, and give you what you want in return.”

“Seems dicey,” I muttered.

“Perhaps. But there are some things only a God can do. And they do grant the occasional one of these wishes. Presumably to encourage the behaviour.”

That did sound like them. I would have thought that granting wishes went against their rules… but there was so much I didn’t understand about that.

“Getting back on track,” I sighed, putting the Gods aside for now. “The Church of Naldyna was smuggling beast-kin out of the town. That seems pretty political to me.”

“More than that,” Tom said, frowning. “I’d heard they were taking them in, but getting them out - they’re trying to raise tensions.”

“How so?”

“Those scared refugees go back to the Tribes with a tale of how they barely escaped from the murderous humans. Hot-heads in the Tribes start agitating for a mission to rescue the ones left behind.”

“That would be what the Baron wants though? An attack?” I wondered. “Could he provoke one by threatening civilians?”

“If the Baron was actually committing atrocities…” Tom mused. “It wouldn’t look good with the other nations. He might find himself handed over to Tribes as part of a peace treaty - he definitely wouldn’t be covering himself with the glory he needs for a promotion.”

“So there are some restrictions on the Nobles,” I said.

“Especially with the Inquisitor in town,” Tom agreed. “He seems inclined to ignore most of the Baron’s violations, but there’s only so much he can turn a blind eye to.”

I sat there for a moment, thinking. Maybe that can work, I thought. Tom stayed silent, just watching me across the table.

“Thank you,” I said. “You’ve been very helpful”

* * *

There weren’t too many people on the streets. The guards still patrolled, and the town was still locked down. But few wasn’t none. I spotted my target, the wife of a well-regarded merchant, probably getting her grocery shopping done. I’d found the trick to [Phantom World] was - despite the name - to keep the changes small. It was less to keep track of, and easier to make sure that the target didn’t see or do anything that broke the illusion.

In this case, I kept the change far away. Two blocks down the street, a cat-kin burst out of the alleyway. It would have been too far for me to cast a regular illusion, but this was only in Jolie’s head.

The cat-kin only got a few steps out into the street before he was pulled back by a pair of guards. Jolie couldn’t see much at this distance, but the guard uniforms were distinctive. She stopped in shock. None of the other people on the street seemed to have noticed anything, and she didn’t know what to do. The guards quickly dragged their victim back out of sight, and I dismissed the illusion. By the time Jolie found the courage to approach the alleyway, there was nothing to be seen.

Shaken, casting glances at the other people on the street - most of whom were guards - she continued on her way. It was just a drop of doubt. There was no proof that anything had occurred - and if pressed, she would have to admit that just seeing a cat-kin was pretty unlikely during this time. But enough drops would form a river.

* * *

I was surprised when the knock on the door came, and the guards came to search my home. For one thing, I’d expected it a day or two earlier. For another, it came during business hours instead of at two in the morning. Baron Marseau still had a lot to learn about authoritarian methods I guess.

We had nothing to hide, of course, and the idea of unreasonable search and seizure hadn’t been invented in this universe, so I let them in with a smile.

“Are we special?” I asked the sergeant, who was glumly watching his men tramping about, finding nothing. “Or is the whole town being searched.”

I was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to tell me anything, but [Persuasion] made short work of orders he wasn’t inclined to keep anyway.

“Ah, it's everyone, but you were supposed to be one of the first,” he said, blushing under my attention.

“Well, I hope you’re entirely satisfied that we have nothing hidden here,” I said.

“Aye ma’am,” he said. He hadn’t asked to look in our safe, but it was too small to hide a person. They hadn’t said, but even if I hadn’t known they were looking for Edele, it was obvious from what they were checking.

“Well, I hope you have a good day searching,” I said. I doubted the rest of the town would be as accommodating.

* * *

All it took was a little gossiping in the marketplace to find out that a meeting was going to be held. It was a little harder to get an invitation.

There wasn’t an operational Iron-workers Guild in Talnier, but the two blacksmiths they had were quite respectful of my Anchorbury qualifications. The meeting was being held under the auspices of the Merchant Guild, and I’d managed to win a good reputation with most of the local merchants. They did tend to respect someone who could out-bargain them, which I found odd, but I’d take it.

The Merchant Guild was one of the few Guilds that operated independently of a particular town. Many of its members travelled after all. They had a much more complicated system of rank and seniority than the Iron-Workers guild had, and a tradition that the most senior guild member in town at a particular time was in charge of Guild affairs.

This wasn’t a Guild meeting though. A number of townsfolk would be coming, and not all Guild members were invited. Representatives of some of the Dorsay-based families had made their positions on the war clear, and so word was very carefully kept from them.

I was a local, but only barely. It took a lot of commiserating with merchants over the recent loss of trade, and some bemoaning of the short-sightedness of military types before someone decided to suggest that there was a meeting I might like to come to.

It was all based on word of mouth and personal trust. I allowed that I’d like to attend, and a merchant assured me that my name had been passed on to allow me entry. When I showed up at the Guild Hall, I was a little intimidated by all the guards that were scattered around the place. It seemed that every merchant in town had contributed their guards to make sure we wouldn’t be interrupted or overheard. I fell in with a few acquaintances and we moved as a group through the crowd. It was a bit chaotic - there wasn’t anything as organised as a man with a list at the door. Instead, introductions were made and small talk was exchanged until eventually someone was found who agreed that yes, we were to be allowed in.

It wasn’t very promising, but every insurrection had to start somewhere. I resolved to wait until the meeting started before judging if these townsfolk had what it took.