Chapter 20

* * *

Gardoman's shortcomings stemmed directly from his virtues. The old man was always stubborn, rigid, inflexible, did not like innovations, and considered only one opinion correct - his own. At the same time, he never made decisions without considering the situation from all sides, and his intelligence, coupled with natural caution, allowed him to choose the best of all possible options.

Only a few could break the banker's established beliefs.

"We have no guarantee that the project of the way to the East really exists," Celesta explained to the "mountain elder" over the mirror link. "All the evidence is purely circumstantial. At the same time, there is a lot of it. If we are not mistaken and we manage to be among the main figures from the very beginning, we will get not just money - we will get influence. Not to mention access to states in far-flung regions."

"I'd rather focus on Birat."

"We can't expand into the Principality without establishing ourselves in the middle ground," the Mistress repeated the point they both knew. "There's been some progress lately, Kalderan is personally working on it. But we have a long way to go. However, until the course of events in Taleya is determined, we will do nothing."

"I don't believe in the friendliness of the Son of the Sea," the old man grumbled. "Kings have often betrayed us, and I'm not just talking about Taleya."

"This one looks smarter than his predecessors. Besides, he's got a lot of other things on his mind right now."

"Which doesn't stop him from siphoning money out of us."

"Exchanging money for serenity suits me fine. However, the withdrawal of funds to Lanaka will continue. I've already told Latham not to hurry back and to make connections with the local nobility - we'll need the goodwill of the top brass, and a short action against the monsters isn't enough to form a stable opinion."

"Mistress, I fully agree and have long said that Lanaka must be taken!" Gardoman burst out with emotion. "Only in this country, it seems that in order to achieve stability, we have to take power and rule ourselves. Every couple of generations they have some kind of war over some silly issue and then we have to restore our lost ground from scratch! How many did we lose twenty years ago? The communities are three, the dead servants of men cannot be counted. Not to mention the confiscated lands and businesses."

When the elder was done speaking, he was silent. He wasn't very good at talking through mirrors, and he wasn't very good at any sorcery-related techniques at all. You could tell that Gardoman wasn't interested in developing as a vampire and was focused on making money if weren't for one exception. The old man created unique artifacts when he was in the mood. His products had nothing in common with the creations of magicians, functioned according to some rules of their own, but amazed by their unorthodox capabilities. They were certainly not superior to the things made by master artifactors - just a different school, with different advantages and disadvantages.

"So far, there are no signs of another of their national pastimes. Then... we'll see. If we can weaken the lightest cults, our position in Taleya and the Land of Blueness will be strengthened. There will be more room to maneuver."

"Damn "if," she could have sworn she heard a grunt. "Mistress, I understand you're hoping to prove to the king that it's more profitable to be friends with us. But men are irrational! He may simply not want to."

"I'm not going to argue. But we don't have much of a choice, do we?" Celesta asked rhetorically. Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "Let's discuss the specifics. Rimnar handles Quail's sales, do you have any special instructions for him?"

"He and I have already discussed everything."

"Great. What do the bankers say about the campaign in the Seven Rivers?"

"They are cautious, although in general, they like the idea. The main issues revolve around duty discounts in Lascaris. Mistress, if the Duke gives good discounts, we'd be better off inviting no one from outside and financing the project ourselves. Have you heard from him at least something?"

"Tomorrow Lash will have an audience with the Son of the Sea, I think, just about my proposal. The king won't give him a definite answer, but at least we'll know his first reaction."

"Nothing changes and we're still waiting, I see," Gardoman grumbled again. "Then let's move on to the Archipelago. The smugglers there are making good money, and your Grakhor is doing well. Will anything change there? We won't have to change schemes because of Kalderan or something?"

"Not anytime soon. He will contact you himself."

"All right, I'll wait. Then there's this..."

Having finished his conversation with Celesta, the old risen sat motionless in the chair for ten minutes, coming to his senses. The pain in his head was gradually subsiding. Hustin advised him to exercise more, and he was right - before the consequences of communication through the mirror lasted longer. Today Gardoman, one could say, got off easy. It is convenient to talk with Celesta or wizards through the mirror, they both keep in touch and send clear images. He does not give him mentalism, and it's a pity, a pity.

Slowly, shuffling a little, the elder left the office. He followed a long corridor to the last door, which looked like it led to a back room. Behind the door was another corridor, shorter, ending in an exit in the next building. After taking another dozen steps, Gardoman entered the study without saying hello, walked to the armchairs by the fireplace, and sat down in one of them.

"They're rushing around again."

"Until the new Son of the Sea is established on the throne, it will be so," said the master of the cabinet, who was also seated there.

"It's been two years since the coronation, it's about time."

"So be it. Better that than with his grandfather."

The two most influential risens of Bardi and the rest of the Highland Duchy grumbled equally. The relationship between them was very uneasy; at first, when Gardoman had just moved from Taleya and began to sweep up the local communities, it almost came to a fight. Mistress couldn't leave her town and sent Latham. The aristocrat did not kill anyone, nor did he use force at all. Nevertheless, no one wanted a repeat of his visit, and the two leaders had to coexist in a shared den.

Over time they shared responsibilities and major conflicts came to naught. Slowly mutual respect sprouted; they began to talk more often, not exclusively on business, but simply for fun. Neither of them would call the other a friend; nevertheless, the habit of gathering once a week by the fireplace and looking at the fire, discussing the latest news, came from somewhere.

"The campaign will take place."

"Does the king agree?"

"He's still thinking. It's going to happen anyway."

"Will he be persuaded?"

"Yes."

They sat in complete silence for another ten minutes, thinking about their things. Then Hatsu asked lazily, more as a conversation starter than for an answer:

"When they come back, they'll try to take on us. With new experience."

"Will many of them come back? The Son of the Sea doesn't need them here," the two old risens chuckled dryly after Gardoman's words. "If he doesn't want them, the Mistress will care. It's one thing to catch a savage in the woods, untrained in anything. It's another thing to look for one of our own in the city. With magic-covered lairs, trained, with the support of mortals, with connections among officials and priests. Only fools get caught. No pity for them."

* * *

Shifting half a step to the side, Celesta smoothly raised her sword, intercepting Ranilkar's attack with the tip of her blade. Locking the other man's blade, she gave him acceleration, preventing him from attacking herself, then with a sharp brushstroke, she struck for herself. Right into a conveniently placed throat. Three - zero.

It is obvious that of the two fighters, the one who devotes more time to training, preferably under the guidance of an experienced mentor, is the most skilled. There are individual geniuses who only need to see a move once and master it in a couple of days, but they are few and far between. There are legends about them. The guardsmen were all excellent warriors, who gave much time to their development, they did not consider it shameful to take experience from mortals and were skeptical about the concept of a "fair fight". Nevertheless, they routinely lost fights to Celesta, both group fights and duels.

The reason was banal - Mistress was faster.

The connection to the seal on the Curse provided her with a steady stream of body-changing energy. The body of any vampire changes from a material form to an energetic one as it ages. It is possible that after thousands of years of existence, a vampire will turn into something like a tangible spirit. The speed of the transformation depends on the quality and quantity of the power received, which Celesta has never lacked (except in the first days after rebirth). In addition, all mentalists at some point mastered the so-called "accelerated perception", the manipulation of personal time, a technique that allows them to process information dozens of times faster.

In the art of working with her mind, Mistress was deservedly considered the best. And not only with her mind. Therefore, she managed to figure out other people's attacks, feints, and tricks before the opponent had a chance to realize them, not to mention their use in battle.

With a sign to Ranilkar that the training was over, Celesta put the training sword in a stance and headed for the exit. She'll take her bath in her chambers. Vampires don't sweat, but there are some secretions from their skin, and dirt settles in.

"What's the matter with you personally coming to the war room that you don't like so much?" She asked Hustin, who rose from the bench as she approached.

"Not so disliked," the magician shrugged. "I work here, too."

"Once a month, when the mood strikes."

"More often it is not necessary. What's the point of swinging a sword when simple telekinesis will ensure victory faster and more reliably?"

"Not so," Celesta argued. "Magic doesn't prepare you for real combat. It's the psychology of the newcomers that lets them down, they get lost, and they forget what they're supposed to do. And they get killed. Fighting with weapons can, to a certain extent, prepare you for a real fight."

"Let's not argue," Hustin grimaced. "We can't convince each other anyway."

"Let's not. So what did you want?"

The warlock lowered his voice and put on some kind of sound-altering shield.

"A reminder about the crypts. Six months have passed."

"Really," Celesta grimaced. "Don't you want to wait?"

"There's no sense. We can't get to the dynasty archives, and looking elsewhere would draw unnecessary attention. We can only get data for analysis ourselves."

Mistress sighed. Several attempts to touch such a specific area as the ancient funeral rituals of nobles made by her recently proved Hastin right. All, absolutely all potential sources of information reacted extremely nervously even to hints.

"Except for the direct participants, no one must know," she stipulated.

"It's a deal," smiled the warlock.

After parting with Hastin, Celeste took her time to go about her business. Which, contrary to her habit, she did not have much to do today. There was a pause on the political fronts as the parties licked their wounds and concentrated their energies. The Son of the Sea party needed a moment to recover what they had gained; the Chancellor's supporters were counting their recent losses and looking suspiciously at their allies; the noble families were wondering if now was a good time to sting the worst of the enemy. Lash, incidentally, sent word that his offer had been received without negativity. Of course, they didn't give him an answer right away, but they didn't reject him out of hand, which was good.

After the ideological defeat of the Triad of Rightness and the internal turmoil of the Saints of the Fire, the Society of Celestial Purity was supposed to be at the forefront of religious organizations. After all, it was a staunch supporter of the throne, supporting the king in his hour of need. In practice, the " lawyers" were shaken by a series of petty scandals, the hierarchy and the middle ranks were involved in illegal human trafficking, corruption, and other crimes. To be fair, Valier cleansed the ranks of his ideologues quietly, without any fanfare, sending some into exile, some on extended leave for health reasons, and the most brazen died in accidents. Not a single one went to jail.

In short, a lot was going on and nothing going on at the same time. The most interesting processes, from the vampire community's point of view, were monitored by the executors, who submitted a short report to their master every night so that Celesta herself could do things that had never been done before. Or whatever her soul asked for.

In other words, she was now focused on the Morvanites and the construction of the palace.

Traditionally, there were many different cults operating in Taleya for all tastes. The authorities fought against destructive cults, forbidding human sacrifice, but they treated the balance doctrines with equanimity. Serving the dark gods was not a crime in itself until a certain point, and the priests were imprisoned for violating the Criminal Code. The situation changed under Irrhan, who not only wanted to ban Morvan cults, he wanted to eradicate the very tradition of worshipping him.

The vampires happily approved of the initiative. Previously, their sphere of influence included not the most pleasant cults, whose members have consistently aroused the interest of the state security services. Because of, so to speak, an active life position, densely mixed with destructive ideology. Now, the authorities have forced far more sane believers to go into hiding. Who did not consider it their direct duty to bring the death of the world, or at least a rotten society. Many then fled to neighboring countries, but there were those who could not flee - Celesta welcomed them with open arms. They readily accepted the tenets of her Code, which forbade the killing of children, proclaimed the triad of knowledge-power-improvement as a guide for life, and considered the world a wholly material world of cause and effect.

Now she mentally divided all the cultists into three categories: the rabid, the peaceful, and the valuable. The first was the hardest to deal with. They were always getting into trouble, but with the right guidance, they dreamed of dying for her glory. And they could fight for this honor. The peaceful ones lived quietly, worked hard, raised their children, earned money, scolded their superiors, and did not jump over themselves. They were no different from the same hardworking neighbors. They simply attended occasional Morvan services and occasionally complied with the easy requests of their shepherds. There was a little mystery in their lives that tickled their nerves pleasantly, and that was all they needed.

The second category served as a supplier of human material for the third. The smart, active, ambitious ones were selected from an early age, trained according to their inclinations, and became scouts, merchants, and officials. The luckiest became wizards or personal servants of vampires. Some of them were valued more highly by the Mistress than her non-dead subjects.

Most cults are small, with no more than five active members and up to three dozen ordinary members. There were exceptions, though. Some pastors managed to create large organizations, full-fledged hidden networks that operated in more than one state. Covering them from the watchful eye of spiders or temple spies was more difficult; at the same time, they were much more useful.

If watching over the Morvanites was like a job, usually troublesome and sometimes amusing, what the palace had become to her, she was at a loss to articulate. A humble challenge? In agreeing to design the project, she did not know how long she would remain confined to the Capital. Then she thought with grim humor something like "if I'm already destined to be in prison, why not make it comfortable?"

The result exceeded expectations. Inspired by the complexity of the task and the sums offered for its execution the architects designed a huge underground complex, unparalleled in beauty and size. Functionally, it was divided into four parts: the public section, which was to house the administration and admitted visitors; the right and left wings, intended for various services; and the palace itself, whose center was the three-tier throne room, designed for the simultaneous presence of two thousand people. Or rather, sentient beings.

Originally, the left wing was supposed to house scouts and financiers (on different floors), while the right wing would be occupied by mages and guardsmen. In the right-wing they even arranged a ritual hall, observing the smallest requirements for such premises. However, after a particularly strong explosion in the laboratories, it was decided that they would do with a library of rare manuscripts, and the mages would remain in their present place and would not move anywhere.

Hustin personally dealt with the problem of lighting. The living fire was no good, chemical or biological lights failed quickly or did not shine brightly enough for weak human eyesight. In the end, the mage created lamps with hybrid technology, not particularly bright, but practically eternal. They lit up corridors and public spaces. Where a lot of light was needed, they made do with purely magical lamps that needed frequent maintenance.

The project turned out to be very complicated and costly. First of all, in terms of security. The vampires had to get into areas previously unknown, such as the construction of large buildings in the city limits. Garbage and waste must be removed, right? They had to. They had to create a company, provide it with contracts, and protect it from disgruntled competitors. Only after all that, under the guise of legal activities, they had to support the underground construction. There were enough other problems - the purchase of materials, the need for rest for some workers...

It must be said that the project had to be made much more complicated because of the humans. Vampires, for example, did not go to the bathroom, unlike mortals who pooped. That's why a full-fledged sewer was laid during construction, which had to be looked after and repaired, to fix the inevitable leaks. The housekeeping department consisted of two vampires who had a large staff of zombified mortals or dead men raised by Hastin - the mage's interest in necromancy had faded, but the skills remained. Why weren't humans assigned to the positions of stewards? Intelligence protested fiercely, imagining the secrets they would gain access to.

Celeste's future abode, her chambers, was in the farthest part of the palace. Medea had already taken a promise that she would decorate the rooms herself - her sister rightly feared to see the dwelling furnished in an ascetic and minimalistic style. A couple of rooms and a dressing room, reserved for the Singer's arrival, were also there. Mistress herself would have had one room with a closet and armory, but secretaries, guests, an office for work, a small archive... Suddenly the three-story rooms were not enough.

She grew to love wandering around the construction site, casting a veil of inattention, and watching the construction workers at work. In a sense, history was being made before her eyes, and this creation appealed to her in its bloodlessness. It was an unusual sensation. Celesta caught herself that the unfamiliar feeling of creating something eternal appealed to her. Yes, she had created communities before, developed trading and manufacturing companies, and built bridges and roads at her behest, but they were all perceived as tools in one way or another. They were for something, for a purpose. The palace, it would seem, was also planned as a government center - but it could not be seen as a utilitarian structure. A symbol of power, a symbol of new life. A house from which she would not want to leave.

Will she be able to protect it?

The rules of the game in human society were changing again, smoothly and at first glance unnoticed. What the relationship between the vampires and the supreme power would be, was now being determined. Mistress had sent enough signals to the Son of the Sea that she did not want enmity. Would he accept them? His predecessors had spoken to intelligent undead solely in the language of force.

In any case, there was nothing more Celesta could do. She just had to wait.

* * *

Living beings in general, and humans in particular, do not hide their emotions well. It takes long training and rigorous drills to learn how to control facial expressions, keep the body relaxed at all times, regulate the heart rate with an effort of will, and communicate with a calm smile, ignoring the frenzied cocktail of hormones in the blood. Few people can afford this kind of training, and most people don't need it.

The elite, especially the very top, taught their children well. The theme of preserving and multiplying the positions achieved by the clan was the most important in the upbringing of the heirs, and from a very young age, they were taught the necessity of maintaining status. Not everyone could withstand it - some drank, others began to feel like gods and went on the rampage, and others turned away from family affairs and retreated into books, religion, or travels to distant lands. Those who coped with the strain gained positions, titles, and increased wealth.

The current Duke of Lascaris received the best education possible. A little strict, a little easy, a little promiscuous - his teachers knew their business. With age came the experience that allowed to blossom planted in childhood, which turned a simple shallow man into one of the most dangerous intrigues of the country. It was difficult to calculate him.

Sometimes Celesta thought of getting inside his head and reading his most vivid thoughts. Alas, the dreams remained unfulfilled. No matter how good she was, the Duke was a powerful mage in his own right, and he was covered from head to toe with artifacts.

At least, he didn't keep her waiting and told her the main thing at once:

"The blessed ruler supported the idea of reconnecting with the countries of the west. He is oppressed by the idea that nations deprived of the pattern of virtue will slip into barbarism and lose their true way."

Without commenting on the last sentence (in her opinion, the sample from Taleya is so not good), Celesta closed her eyes, reliving the victory. The Son of the Sea agreed. His decision wasn't final, it could still be replayed, but it was a start.

"Did he express any "wishes"?"

"Of course," Lash smiled dryly. "He insists on careful preparation, so he has introduced me to several men of the highest confidence, whose advice will benefit the common cause."

It would be naive to believe that the King would not provide observers for the project.

I'm sure you'll be able to use them properly.

"It is good to hear that the blessed Mistress has faith in the strength of her good friend. I should like to share that faith," the Duke joked. "However, Messena is probably right - the participation of the King's representatives will ease the inevitable obstacles and remove the objections of some circles. Maybe, indeed, it will be possible to meet the deadline of five years."

"Where did the deadline come from?"

"The Bearer of the Divine Will believes that shocks to social tranquility are unnecessary. In his opinion, for the next three years, the country must learn peace and good. During this time, he expects to restore the Mages' Guild, decide whether Chancellor Darth is worthy to remain in his position, remind the priests of their humility, and get rid of some of the conflicts in relations with his neighbors. It will take another two years directly to prepare."

In other words, Valier is busy shortly and orders not to disturb him. Most likely, he is going to change the chancellor, although there are other options. Celesta has already realized that the king prefers to act quietly, preferably with other people's hands, along the way blaming someone else for what is happening.

"Do you think we might not have enough time?"

"A lot depends on how soon the redistribution of power in the steppe is over. The chiefs are just getting the hang of it," Lash sighed. - Besides, I foresee funding difficulties. His Highness thinks it would be unseemly for banks and trading houses in other lands to be involved in the crusade. In his opinion, Taleya must show its power and cope with the challenge imposed on it solely by itself. He has no objection to the participation of certain foreigners."

"Does the silly woman understand correctly - the trading houses of the mountain principalities will not be able to participate?"

"So it is, Messena. The glory of a perfect deed must belong to one country."

Where there is fame, there is money. Celesta understood and somewhat supported the government's logic of the royal demand. If only their people finance it, then the reduced duties are given to them. Merchants gain a competitive advantage, grow, transport more goods, and pay more taxes - not only direct taxes at customs but also indirect taxes like the road toll. The problem is that the vampires have either withdrawn or have already withdrawn their finances from the country; the remaining funds for the collection and maintenance of the army will not be enough.

"One little-known philosopher once said: "everything that doesn't kill us makes us stronger". It's a beautiful maxim, and we'll soon put it to the test. I'll think of something, Messen," the vampiress promised the man.

The Duke nodded, accepting the promises. After thinking for a while, he reported: "It is estimated that at least ten thousand holy warriors would be required."

"Should we pay nomads, too?"

"It depends on what we agree upon. I'll keep you informed of the negotiations and let you know the results immediately, Messena," he promised.

"Thank you, I look forward to it," Celesta took the last sip of wine and placed it on the table. "Well, let's consider it a start."

"Let it be considered, blessed Mistress!"

After saying goodbye to the duke, the Mistress stepped outside. She stood looking thoughtfully in the direction of the nearest entrance to the catacombs, turned around, and went into another. The Guardsmen who had followed her made a sign to leave, and when they tried to guard her covertly, she took their eyes away. She wanted to be alone.

What could have threatened her? Despite the night, the streets were crowded, the lanterns were lit in front of the shops, and guards often patrolled the city center or noblemen with weapons strolled by. And on her own, she could fend off any conceivable danger. Then again, it was considered very bad luck in Taleya for bandits to attack teenage girls walking alone in the dark; they could get a beating for that.

The news needed to be thought through.

Nothing is over yet, of course. The king's plans may change, he may "change his mind" and withdraw his consent to the sweep of the Seven Rivers. But even if his decision remains unchanged, a long, difficult work of creating an expeditionary corps, gathering the necessary information, diplomatic support, logistics... And the vampires will have to act in secret.

You can't ask too much of fate. She is already incredibly lucky that instead of decades of preparation, they will make do with years. Her plans fit well with those of the upper mortals, otherwise, the wait would have been much longer. Frankly, it is not certain that the plan would have come to fruition under the current ruler - the more she gets to know Valier, the higher she values him.

However, a century earlier, a century later...

The unpleasant demands made by the Son of the Sea were of little concern to Celesta. She wasn't in it for the money, was she? The threat of the hostile ideology of the Seven Rivers must be neutralized, the other goals are secondary, and their achievement will serve as a pleasant bonus and nothing more. The second reason -she could admit it to herself - was revenge. Zervan, with all his faults, had been at her side for nearly seven hundred years. She hated those whose apprentice had pushed him into treachery.

A large number of important projects was a bit disturbing and promised a headache. Mistress didn't like to spread her energies thinly, and it was impossible to do otherwise. First, the Sacred Crusade. Second, the looming expansion into Birat. A breakthrough with the Lanaka authorities would also require resources. Medea had hinted at pleasant news from Azar during her last conversation. It might be necessary to create a community in the Stone Bones. Where would vampires come from? Not all are eager to work, to hold responsible positions, many prefer to dump decisions on others and live quietly in the provinces without any reminders of themselves. Like that bastard Valquería, from whom she hasn't heard anything for some reason. She should check how he's doing, and give him a preventive shake-up so that he doesn't relax.

Sometimes she envied him. Celesta hadn't had the opportunity to stretch out on the couch and lie around with a book for a couple of days in a long time.

She knew she would not be resting anytime soon. A strong ruler had finally ascended to the throne of Taleya, and the country was about to undergo changes that would inevitably affect the vampire society that was hidden from view. There was no way she could stay out of it.

At least they overcame the internal crisis. External threats are easier to deal with.

* * *