Chapter 73

Not Even a Challenge

Femira’s afternoon consisted of entertaining Lord and Lady Arteste, both of whom were not-so-subtly talking up their youngest son, a Knight-Captain rising through the ranks of Lord-Marshal Mattice’s division. She feigned interest in meeting him, and kept her discussion polite but inwardly she was bored out of her mind. Lord Arteste had been on Garld’s list of nobles he wanted her to build rapport with. She couldn’t fathom why, but she trusted Garld’s judgement on these things. She’d had a few meetings like this one all week and she figured this was Garld wanting to give more credibility to her Annali disguise. Maybe he’d wanted to do this earlier but didn’t trust I wouldn’t blow it? She was certainly better at holding her tongue and maintaining composure then when she’d first arrived.

“Thank you for having me, my Lord, my Lady,” Femira inclined her head in respect to the pair as she left their palace accommodations.

“You’re sure you can’t stay for dinner?” Lady Arteste pressed, “our son, Jerome will be joining us.”

“Thank you but no, I am needed in the barracks this evening. Late night training sessions,” Femira lied but she needed a cover in case she was seen leaving the palace. Her duties would take her to the East Quarter of the city tonight.

“A dedicated soldier,” Lord Arteste said with admiration, “Jerome is much the same.” She found it ironic how much they were pushing their son on her. She wondered what their reactions would be if they ever learned that she was a random thief of the Altarean streets.

The whole situation reminded her of the cons that she and her brothers had done when they’d first arrived in Altarea. Femira and Rashav would pretend to be visiting Keiran highborn children that had been separated from their parents. They were the distraction for Kamal to pick pockets. They’d stopped pulling those tricks once Femira had gotten too old to pass for a lost child but by then she was agile enough to pick pockets herself without being caught. They’d also been taken in by Lichtin and his crew by then so were usually working on bigger scores.

The sun was setting as Femira made her down the Palace steps. Tonight, she planned to infiltrate into Lord-Marshal Mattice’s manse. He was Highlord of Dagero to the south but as with most of the wealthier nobles, Mattice had a considerable estate in Epilas. Even lesser Houses from remote parts of Reldon would still own a property in the East Quarter. Epilas was the center of government and the military heart of Reldon so anyone with any measure of influence wanted a piece of the city.

Femira made her way on foot. Underneath her uniform, she had her stealth gear. She stuffed the uniform into an alley once she neared the East Quarter. The military uniform stood out too much and with her growing notoriety, it was becoming harder to move about incognito. She’d even picked up a black cloak of light material to help avoid being recognised on the street. She pulled the black cowl of her cloak over her head.

The streets were reasonably busy and she was more than effective at dodging any patrols. Garld had been strict on her remaining undetected for these missions. Femira did not want it getting back to him that she’d been spotted in the East Quarter. Frankly, it was all so frustratingly easy with her enhanced stonebreaking abilities. If she needed to evade sight all she needed to do was side-step into a quiet alley where she could literally walk through walls if she wanted to.

Femira felt like it was cheating. Not for the first time over the week, she thought about how easy it would be to steal away from Epilas and the responsibilities of Annali. Femira had the skills to be the greatest thief in history. She could pass through stone walls as if they were curtains, she could climb any tower, bypass any lock. There was nowhere in the entire world that was closed off to her. By the time Femira made it to Mattice’s mansion the sun had set, casting the city into twilight. Neither moon had risen yet and the gaslamps lining the streets were in the process of being lit.

Like many of the other mansions in the East Quarter, Mattice had a steel palisade surrounding his gardens. Metal was too slow to disintegrate for those that weren’t soulforged so the patrolling guards would catch any would-be intruders. Mattice had quite few physical defences around his mansion but he had a considerable amount of household guards which posed a slight challenge. The gardens themselves were well-lit and Femira had to employ her stealthiest manoeuvres to stay in the shadows, rolling under bushes and diving for cover behind flowerbeds. However once she neared the building itself, the hard part was over.

“You see that?” Femira heard the male voice of a guard say as she rolled towards the wall of the manse. She pressed her back up against the wall.

“Nah, what was it?”

“Looked like a shadow.”

“Probably just a bird…” The conversation muffled and died away as Femira sank herself into the wall. Her edir senses told her the wall was thick, more than wide enough for her to step in and not come through on the other side. She pushed her face through and was greeted by an unlit storage room. Mattice’s study was on the second floor in this corner of the manse. She was surprised that the building seemed to be entirely of stone. It was clear that Mattice was happy to rely more on guard patrols. Makes it easier for me.

Mattice himself was in the building, likely making his way to his study right now. She heard the temple bells toll for the eighth hour. Femira had overhead—while eavesdropping on his conversation—that Mattice was meeting another War Council member in his study at this time. Her goal was to simply to listen in on the conversation and glean a little insight for Garld on how Mattice intended to push the council.

She pressed her ear against the door listening for anyone on the other side. She was confident the hallway was empty, but she still pushed her face through the stone wall to check before slipping through. She kept the cowl up on the off chance that a servant happened to turn onto the hallway and catch a glimpse of her.

She needed to find a stairway. The floorboards were timber and likely would be on the second floor too so climbing up through the roof was impossible. Even if she could, the thought of being caught with half her body dangling from the ceiling would be too shameful to risk.

She moved quietly through the hallways. Fire sconces lined the walls providing illumination but Femira noticed the light growing stronger at the end of the hallway and ducked into a shaded space. Lamplight glinted off the steel pauldrons and breastplates of the patrolling guards that rounded the corner. He really does have a lot of guards.

Femira faded into the wall before they could spot her. She could hear the muffled sounds of their boots thudding on the carpeted floor, moving past her position and disappearing. This is the problem with guards. Most the entire time there’s no intruders, so they’re not really paying attention. Guards were only useful when the alarm was already raised.

Femira continued on, peeking around the corner of hallways and ducking away from two more patrols as well as some passing servants. A busy house. Mattice’s immediate family all lived at his estate in Dagero but that didn’t mean that Mattice’s house was quiet. Other relations, mistresses and staff all kept the manse alive with activity. Her heart jumped with excitement every time another person would pass by her.

She found a servants' stairs that led up to the second floor and continued along back to the south corner of the manse where she would find Mattice’s study. Garld had visited on a number of occasions and been able to describe to her the rough layout of the building.

Edging along the side of a wall to a corner, she crouched down and formed a flat piece of steel from within her reserve. The beauty of runewiedling meant that she could summon and dismiss any tool she needed at a moment's notice. She’d perfected the art of metalshaping with flawless mirror-like appearance. She carefully pushed the mirror along the floor to get a look at the hallway around the corner. As she suspected a single guard stood watch outside a door. That’s the study. It was two rooms down on the opposite side of the hallway. Too easy.

Femira could form a pebble in the air further down the hallway and have it drop and distract the guard. She could then easily dart across the hallway and step through the wall on the other side quick enough before the guard looked back. That plan carried too many risks however. The guard would be on alert and Femira had no guarantee the room opposite her was empty. She could be running straight into a crowded room of people. Appearing right through the wall. She’d do it just to see the look on the highborn’s faces.

No, safer option was to take it slow and careful. She judged the width of the hallway to be about six strides. Give another two in case the wall is thick. She walked up to the opposite wall. Turned until she was lined up along it and side-stepped into the wall. Dissolving the stone around her and reforming the hole she’d stepped through.

Enclosed completely in darkness, she felt the stone all around her hum in response to her edir. She took one stride forward, slowly and carefully. The stone in front of her dissolved and reformed behind her. Another step. Then another. It took quite a considerable amount of focus to keep the pocket within the wall intact as she stepped. She almost lost count of her steps. Was that eight? Maybe another just to be sure. It didn’t really matter if she overshot it anyway.

She pushed her face through slowly and was again greeted by a dim room. She stepped through and quickly realised she was not alone. She was in what looked to be an office. Not the luxurious office of a nobleman but the reserved practical offices of an administrator. Likely, Mattice’s head of staff. There was a man on a desk, shrouded in shadow. He was also snoring. The noise was akin to a gutted boar, gasping its final breaths. Delicately, she made her way silent-footed across the room to the opposite wall. Without a glance back at the snoring man, she stepped through again.

The next room was also unlit and—after a more thorough check than the last one—was assuredly empty. Ok, Mattice is in the next room. This one would have been done very carefully. She didn’t want her face appearing right in a well-lit part of the room in plain view of the Knight-Marhsall or his guest.

Ideally, she would have arrived before the meeting started but that would have meant trying to make her way past Mattice’s patrols in the half-light of twilight. Too risky. Even with a normal person’s level of guard staff. Well, normal for someone who was ridiculously rich.

The fortunate thing about a study was; people like to show off. They tended to decorate the walls with bookshelves, tapestries and paintings. They were also quite predictable with where they chose put these things. Right in the center, there would likely be a giant painting. Of a battle, probably. She didn’t know much about art, only that rich people paid unbelievable amounts of gold for a painting because of the name of the person that did it rather than by whether they actually liked the art or not.

She didn’t want her face pushing any painting off it’s hanging and dropping right there and then with her face sticking through. The corner was the best bet, although he’d likely have a bookcase pushed right up along the wall to the corner. She stepped through the wall at the corner and slowly pressed her head through, angling it so that her eye would the first through. As expected her brow pushed against the familiar resolute solidness of wood. Bookcase, I knew it. Highborn are so fucking predictable.

This worked to her advantage however. As there was a half an inch gap between the stone wall and wood. She angled her head again, pushing her ear out against the timber.

“…with you on this matter,” FEmira heard Mattice’s voice, muffled by the bookcase in her way but clear enough to discern his words.

“Then it’s settled,” said Prince Lukane, “we push for war with Rubane.” Just in time. She’d worried that she’d already missed the bulk of the conversation on the matter. She grinned within her hole in the wall, within the first second, she’d already gathered enough to bring back to Garld.

“My father will not entertain any other options,” Lukane continued “The insult against the Royal Family is too great. Any Houses that go against it will be inviting themselves to falling out of favour with the crown.”

Femira felt her ego inflate. Eavesdropping on a private conversation between the military’s most prominent leader and the heir to the Reldoni crown was simply too great an opportunity to pass up.

“I can’t imagine we will have many that do,” Mattice replied. “Rubane is rich in untapped resources. The Iron Hills, the forests, all of it.”

“The northern lands have issues with local tribes of wildmen from what I understand.”

“Nothing that our military cannot bring to heel.”

“I agree,” Lukane conceded, “we have dawdled with Altarea for too long. My father’s ambition to reclaim all of Reldon hinges upon claiming Rubane. Athlin will soon follow.”

“And then with the might of the entire north, the bastards of Rien will finally be crushed beneath our heel.”

“Once and for all.”

“Quite convenient wouldn’t you say, Prince Lukane. That your brother was killed in Rubane of all places. I believe it was yourself that pushed for his appointment to Ambassador. You must be absolutely awash with guilt.” Femira could detect the playful tone, even obscured through the bookcase.

“I am, of course… devastated by this news,” Lukane replied, “Daegan and I may have had our differences, but he was my brother and I miss him dearly. It is my wish and the desire of my entire family to see him avenged.”

“I am sure you are. This may well be the first time that Prince Landryn and I will agree on a course of action,” Mattice remarked.

“My father is not blind to the difficulties between you and my brother.”

“Yet he appointed him as my Commander.”

“You understand Mattice, that the we Tredains must always align with our blood.”

“Of course, of course… But perhaps it is time, the King… reconsiders my proposal. Divide the military. Let Landryn and Garld continue killing good soldiers in their little experiment. Set the bloodshedders apart on their own, with Landryn as their Commander. He wants that. Allow me to assume command of the rest.”

“You have no desire for soulforged soldiers among your ranks?” Lukane asked.

“It’s not worth the expense to me. They never live long enough to be worth the cost.”

“Their process seems close to perfection,” Lukane mused.

“Would you risk undergoing it yourself?” Mattice asked.

“Perhaps, with a few more test subjects. Landryn himself has been faring well.”

“Indeed, yet dozens of mine were sacrificed for it. Garld believes the lives of his bloodshedders are worth a hundred of mine,” Mattice said bitterly.

“Perhaps he’s right,” Lukane considered, “I thank you again, for your time and your support, General Mattice.”

The pair exchanged pleasantries and Lukane departed. His carriage and personal guard were waiting for him in the central courtyard. Femira wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that conversation. Had Mattice been implying that Lukane had been somehow involved in Daegan’s murder? It seemed the kind of thing she should refrain from telling Landryn until she’d first had the chance to debrief with Garld on it.

What was all of that about sacrifices? The bloodshedders were instrumental in operations along the Tidewall. If anything, they’d saved the lives of many of the regular soldiers. Femira knew that many of the bloodshedders had been recruited by Garld and Landryn from Mattice’s and other divisions. They’d handpicked the best runewielders and those they thought would take to being soulforged most effectively. Mattice was likely still bitter about that. It also seemed like he was openly trying to wrangle a stronger hold on the military leadership from Landryn. Femira would need to relay all of this to Garld.

Femira decided that any further prying into Mattice likely wouldn’t bear more fruit than she’d already gathered. She had more than enough to report to Garld on and it would be close to midnight by the time she could make it back to the Palace tonight.

Femira made her way back the way she’d come in, bypassing the security with as much ease as before. She found it quite frustrating, if she was being honest. No challenge at all. She’d been hoping that Mattice being a self-important jackass would have at least been a little more challenging then the other places she’d broken into this week.