Chapter 5

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In addition to the senior assistant, two other people helped Medea run the community: Kamish and Pekar. The first dealt with money and economic matters, the second with everything else. A third would soon appear, only Celesta had not yet decided who. She really didn't like Egard's request to send more mages. He shouldn't be the one to ask for help with the mages - Egard should be recruiting future geniuses at the largest educational institution in the known world and providing them to the rest of the cities!

If he doesn't understand such obvious things, we need to find someone who can push him in this direction. It is not advisable to remove Egard - he does everything else well, there are no complaints about him. But that's for later, Celesta would think of a suitable candidate later, now she wanted to talk to Pekar.

Medea was squeamish about street crime. Of course, she did her dirty business on a serious level, which meant that in her two brothels the girls got as much money per night as not every peasant woman earns in a year. The luxurious furnishings matched the prices. Nevertheless, the community had its finger on the pulse, knew the leaders of the above-average size gangs by name, and they also knew whose territory they should not enter, otherwise they might get hurt. The established scheme of relations suited all and rarely failed, periodic inevitable attempts to violate the status quo Pekar suppressed by their own forces. Celesta could recall only one time when she had to send five guardsmen to Zonna to help the locals in this matter.

With Zervan and his assistants gone, the Mistress intended to extend the useful experience to the rest of her domain.

"Mistress," the risen stood up at her arrival and bowed respectfully.

"Judging by your lack of surprise, Pekar, everyone knows I'm here," said Celesta.

"Only among vampires, Messena Celesta. We withheld the information from humans."

"Are you sure we don't have any informants of the Vigilantes among us?"

"Of course there is, Mistress," smiled Pekar. "If it pleases you, they will inform their employers of your visit."

"Your confidence is encouraging. I guess not," Celesta decided. "People believe the Night Mistress of Taleya is in Taleya, and she can't leave. I'd have to be careful not to shatter the reassuring illusions; it's a thankless task."

One of the city's most powerful vampires had taken up residence in the back of a large inn owned by a family that had served the dark kind for generations. The place was crowded with visitors, and they ranged from ordinary artisans to noblemen who had come to town on business. It was easy to enter the inn complex, even easier to get lost among stables, barns, and other outbuildings, but it was almost impossible to get into Pekar's office directly without a guide. Celesta was accompanied by Ral, Medea's dapperly dressed bodyguard, and that was the only reason the two guard posts let the visitors through without question.

Pekar, of course, recognized the mistress. She got to know all the vampires out of childhood and capable of visiting Taleya in person. She talked to them, answered their questions, and asked them herself, trying to figure out what her new subject was worth and where she could best place him. Someday this practice, established in the first centuries of the new era, will disappear, but for now it is effective. Besides, the elders of the larger communities often reported to Celesta through sorcery, so it could be said that she knew Pekar quite well.

"It's easier and harder for us at the same time," he reasoned as he poured the tea into cups. "We have a disproportionate number of young ones who follow the paths of Art. The example of the town's ruler has an effect on us, and the general atmosphere... A heightened emotionality does far less harm than following primitive instincts. Besides, unlike Taleya, we did not seek to use crime in the first place, we did not need to."

"Often the lower classes know better than the upper classes," Celesta said. "For instance, if there's a new risen somewhere, they'll be the first to know."

"Certainly, Mistress. No problem: poor people know that we pay well for interesting information, so we are informed of cases with possible mystical overtones even earlier than the guards."

"What about the religious aspect?"

There were many cults serving Morvan, and the cults were different. Some proclaimed purification through destruction, others sought self-improvement through trials (Mistress personally launched the thesis "everything that doesn't kill us makes us stronger"), the complex philosophy of the cult of absolute violence was reduced to a simple "he who is strongest is right". Some felt it necessary to kill a man at least once a year, others sought a balance in relations, professing the principle of eye-for-eye; there were those who spoke of non-resistance to evil. One way or another, everyone worked with dirt.

"The Land of the Blueness is a tolerant state. The government, of course, clamps down on destructive cults, but as long as the law is observed, they are not touched. At the domestic level, things are a little more complicated, servants of Morvan are treated with fear and hatred, and in some places they can be killed. But then again, the higher the level of education, the more relaxed the mortals are towards the cults."

"Weird. My personal experience tells me that it's easier to work with the beggars."

"With beggars, yes; with poverty, no. When a people has nothing at all, they will agree to trade their blood and cooperate with anyone. When they has something, they becomes cautious, tries to keep what they has, and is less cooperative. Educated people, that is, nobles and rich merchants, show a different mindset. More skeptical. They believe rumors less and are guided by their own opinions, hence the desire to sort things out, to talk. Unless, of course, we're talking about fanatics."

What she heard coincided with Celesta's opinion. Certainly it would be easier for vampires to deal exclusively with the higher levels of the human hierarchy. The problem was that they didn't have that option - they had to keep a close eye on all levels to detect a threat to the community. It was those who followed the paths of the Beast who kept an eye on the lower levels. They were good at their duties, primarily because they spoke the language of brute force, the only language the bottom dwellers understood.

Besides, she couldn't imagine Zervan talking about poetry or any other abstract subject. He could barely do without foul language with her. He didn't want to change; he was perfectly happy with his way of life.

"The Beastly Paths are simple and alluring," Celesta summed up her reasoning. "Many will inevitably choose to set foot on them. What to occupy them with? They can't be left unsupervised, and not everyone is willing or able to learn. Controlling crime forces them into serious business and forces them to play by clear rules. You can't leave them to their own devices - they'll go astray. As it is, they die more often than anyone else."

"We don't have many fans of the Beast," Pekar responded. "There's no problem."

"You don't," the mistress agreed.

In all other countries there are.

Two other factors affected the severity of the choice. The guards were used to going to the vampires in case of any serious incidents to deal with the problem, and they, as a rule, dealt with it. In the recent past, Baron Masai's mansion was stolen, and he immediately expressed his dissatisfaction to the head of the city detectives. Given the baron's influence in court, the chances of being thrown out of office were high. Detectives turned to the vampires, they shook their clientele, as a result of stolen goods returned in record time. In return, the guards were accommodating, too, turning a blind eye to some minor violations of the law.

If the intelligent undead suddenly leaves the streets, cooperation will cease.

The second point, oddly enough, was altruistic in nature. Many of the risens remembered their lives as humans, and they did not want to turn into demons, into sentient monsters. Each of them drew a line for himself that must not be crossed, but that line certainly existed. The trouble was that people sometimes did things that made bloody orgies pale in comparison. Maniacs who abused caged girls for years. Brothels where perverts beat five-year-old children to death with whips. Sophisticated aesthetes of death who fed babies to hungry dogs. All this scum sometimes sat so high that they could not even be investigated, let alone punished.

The vampires weren't embarrassed by the titles... They rightly believed that the Helllord's chosen ones could send souls to Him without passing formal sentences. Celesta didn't object, making the only condition that they inform her beforehand.

Finding out about such cases and investigating them will also become more difficult.

They will have to do without a unified formula. Now the heads of urban communities will determine the format of interaction with the bandits. In principle, this was the case before, it was just that Taleya served as a model, they were guided by her. In addition, Zervan was often away from the capital to clean up particularly annoying gangs in coordination with the local authorities, one might say, mercenary, at the same time bringing his vision of the situation. Now the elder was gone, there was no one to replace him, and probably there was no reason to.

Why did she go to Zonna?

To herself Celesta could tell the truth - she was ready to go anywhere, as long as she didn't go home. For four hundred years, four damned hundred years, she had been chained to Taleya, unable to leave it. Toward the end, she caught herself perceiving the city, with all its three hundred thousand population, as if it were a vast personal prison. Mistress of the Night, ha! A prisoner who is willingly put on a chain.

Fate loves a sad joke. Celeste had waited a long time for her liberation, dreaming of where she would go first, but because of the crisis she was in, she did not notice the freedom that came. She didn't realize right away that the bond that had chained her to the abyss had weakened and thinned. When she realized that she had to go where she had to go, not where she wanted to go. She had to hunt down the fugitive elder and his retinue before he could do any more damage.

Medea's offer came just in time. Celesta felt like a little more and she would hate the Capital.

In Zonna, she almost rested, almost did nothing. It would have been impossible, if she had wanted to, to completely disengage from work, not in her position. At the top of power, you either control the situation, or you quickly fall from the top. Instead, she could put aside non-urgent business for long talks with her sister by the fireplace, walk through unfamiliar streets pretending not to notice the guards, look outside at the unusual architecture of temples, or simply admire the decorated embankments as she passed in a hired boat. Buying nonsense at the market, fooling around, accepting the advances of a foolish young mortal, listening respectfully to the admonitions of a serious lady ten times younger than herself.

The Mistress began to pay attention to the little things, long forgotten for lack of use. To the awe with which the mortal servants looked at her. The ant-like bustle in the small garden behind the house. The guardsmen guarding the square, not daring to disobey her orders, but not willing to leave her unguarded either. She noticed how Latham looked at some of the local vampires and remembered the hint he'd dropped about increasing the guard. With mild surprise, she caught herself envious and mildly jealous as she looked at the relationship between Medea and her youngest daughter. For the first time in a long time, she wondered if perhaps she, too, should have a child. It had been two centuries since Devlin's death; it was time to get over it.

It was her natural stubbornness that prevented her from forgetting everything and enjoying her sudden rest. Celesta knew this quality and didn't think it was a bad thing, but it was annoying at times. As long as there was an unresolved problem, she would return to it time and time again, making plans and trying to find a way out, demanding more information and monitoring the slightest changes. Recently, the Seven Rivers had become such a problem.

Zervan, no matter what Medea said, was her personal mistake, her miscalculation. It was she who failed to notice the threat - a threat primarily ideological, previously unseen. With the execution of the traitor, the danger had not disappeared. How many more vampires will succumb to sweet talk? How many will want to taste permissiveness? It's not over. They have to finish what they started. She was not at all embarrassed by the fact that she was simultaneously busy arranging the "legacy" of a deceased elder and preparing a shot at Birat. The first will be dealt with without her, should only declare his will and outline the contours of the future scheme of work, the second has waited nearly a hundred years, and will wait for another. It must be admitted: that it is difficult to settle down reliably both in Azar and on the Archipelago. In addition to different cultural traditions, vampires are treated there as double outsiders-as nonhumans, and as possible agents of hostile nations. Even the unrelenting feud with the Taleya Throne has not shaken that perception.

An opinion, frankly, a valid one. Celesta herself found it hard to tell where the community was at odds with the authorities and where it was the other way around.

She spent two weeks in Zonna, she would have spent more; it was a good time. Alas, she had to leave. The appearance of a dozen guardsmen could not go unnoticed, and the authorities became alarmed. The local specifics in this case played into the vampires' hands - instead of being frightened by their own fabrications, the powerful men simply invited Medea over for a cup of tea and asked her leading questions. The beauty, of course, fought back, and at the same time started a couple of convenient rumors. Nevertheless, Latham was advised not to tease the dogs and to leave town.

It was not a good idea to ignore recommendations from such a level. Something could have been worked out to maintain a semblance of submission, but there was an additional reason for leaving - a report came from Lascaris about the capture of another alien. Celesta became alarmed. She admitted to being biased and paranoid about the matter, but the growing number of fugitives from the Seven Rivers disturbed her. First, there was no one for decades, then the second in a year. The coincidence looked suspicious.

Her friend did not want to let her go. She didn't try to stop her, either.

"I know you're going away anyway," the beauty shrugged her perfect shoulders. "Well, it's a pity, of course, you could have stayed longer. I wasted no time at least - your eyes are bright, you start smiling, and the sadness is gone from your emotions."

Medea judged the usefulness of anything by her criteria, perhaps more accurate than others. If her friend looked better, it was time well spent.

"I'll try to come back in a couple of years to stay longer," Celesta promised. "I liked Zonna. I wish it were that easy for us, too."

"You must go back because you haven't figured out how we live here," Medea remarked. "You wouldn't have said 'that easy' otherwise. But I'm afraid I'll visit you much sooner in Taleya. You know how it is, this and that, and then half a century later."

Celesta couldn't disagree with the judgment.

"Then it looks like we'll be communicating through mirrors because you'll have more work, too."

"Not me, but my favorite helpers," she smiled slyly. "When word of the Crusade gets out at Court, send five guardsmen, we'll need them here. And as for the future coordinator of the Dark Guild pick someone, not of Kalderan's staff."

"Do you think he should be feared?"

"He is used to lying. He has forgotten how not to lie. You can't constantly wear masks and intrigue for the sake of intrigue because the previous intrigue didn't go according to plan."

Medea described Celesta's own fears very accurately. Kalderan was a genius spy, with operations under his leadership that were fantastically effective. The community owed half of its success to the network of spies created under his leadership. But professional burnout didn't spare the Elder-Security, and gradually he began to see threats where they could not appear by definition. What to do with him, Mistress did not know.

"Don't you have the feeling that we're standing on the threshold of something huge?" Medea, who was very intuitive, suddenly asked. "It's like there's going to be a change that's going to change our lives a lot. I had that feeling when the Fool ascended the throne and started his reforms."

"As a result, we broke with Security service becoming free."

"Exactly! It's the same now."

Celesta smiled: "That a lot is about to change, you can be sure of that. I will tell you without any gut feeling that our interference in politics at such a high level, which will have to be done, will not go unnoticed and will not be reciprocated. And the temples have been getting cocky lately. No matter what starts, we will not be left out."

"Well," Beauty bit her lower lip thoughtfully, "it ended well last time, didn't it?"

"And this time for sure it will be the same!" the little mistress laughed.

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