The ringing of the bells soured Burm’s mood. Ever since taking his rightful place as Patzau, Burm found himself pulled in every conceivable direction. The tolling alarm bells were just another layer to the muck he found himself trodding through. It had started the moment he was appointed Patzau. The order had come from the council and yet he had been immediately met with opposition from within his guild’s ranks. Perhaps, his ascent to Patzau had been swift in the wake of Yanata’s removal but it was necessary. And deserved. None else amongst the guild’s elite had necessary commanding experience to serve as Patzau in this troubled time. None of the strategists had ever seen real combat. They were daft if they believed a lifetime behind a desk qualified them to lead an army against these savages. Burm knew.
He knew how to defeat the tribal fools. He had lived amongst them. He knew their weaknesses. He knew these things and he had the tenacity to hold the guild together. That, and the right family connections. That was, after all, why the council had chosen him in the first place. It was why he had worked so closely with Patzau Yohati these past few years. Bypassing the established hierarchy was necessary when those above know only how to police the common peasants, not win a war.
Still, there had been many that had dared to voice their objections. More than he had anticipated. Some had been bought, their silence secured with simple coin. Those were the smart ones, simply playing the game to win in their own way. Others, like Elvi Batari, had chosen treason. Her loyalty to the old Patzau was her fatal flaw. Now she was dead. Suicide. Better than she deserved for her treachery. A loose end neatly handled, for which Burm felt no remorse. There were still others, those loyal to the old Patzau that needed culling. Their time will come.
A runner approached red-faced with a message from one of his officers. Messenger children followed him around like flies these days. Each time he left the fortress, they would hover around him like beggars. They had to scare the brats off to ensure their destination this morning remained discreet. The boy who approached now was young and big for his youth. He had a cocky confidence in his smile, as if he already knew he had done a good job.
“Message for you Patzau” the boy said, “from the South Gate.”
“I can hear the bells” Burm said dismissively.
“The message is from Captain Rozi, sir” the boy said.
This piqued Burm’s attention and he turned. Capu and Seer also stopped to listen in on their former squadmates message. Burm gave the two lads a sneer and they backed away a step, understanding the message was for him. “What is it?”
The boy drew in a deep breath. “She says, ‘The southern gate fell to Mudtown soldiers early this morning, but she has since retaken the gate with a full contingent of soldiers from the fortress. However, scores of rioters from Mudtown entered the city before they were able to close the gate and are wreaking havoc. She also wishes to tell you that a captured a warrior revealed that armed squads of Mudtown soldiers have snuck into the city to capture and kill key targets, including the Patzau. She believes the riots are just a distraction.”
Burm snorted in derision. Real threat, he thought, repeating the phrase. That seems hardly likely. He dismissed the boy without a tip, an action that brought a scowl to the boy’s face. At least he was smart enough not to grumble about it. Burm chewed on the message. The gate was already recaptured and closed. The warning about strike teams in the city was the most important piece of information, but Burm doubted the backwater Mudtown fools could manage to inflict any real damage to the city. They had barely managed to kill that Prince of Gaag. No, Burm wasn’t worried. These people were beneath his concerns, simply a persistent annoyance. His soldiers were better trained, better armed, and more than capable of handling a few wayward fanatics. It will be simple enough to mop up the lingering trouble makers after the riots have ended and the appetite for Mudtown’s destruction will be strongest. But Mudtown wasn’t important. Not now. His gaze was fixed on a bigger threat.
With a hand-picked detail of his most loyal soldiers, Burm approached Ashill Mansion. He had come expecting a fight but the gates stood open and unmanned. No soldiers. No guards. No servants. The silence was off-putting. The Ashills and the Burms were old and prominent families, dating back even before the Patzau rebellion and the fall of the last Casoyan king. Families that were pivotal in that part of history. Burm walked through the unmanned gate cautiously. He had memories of this place from a lifetime ago. Capu and Seer led the way in he and the others took up the rear. All wore the heavy bronze plate rather than the salt-hardened cotton armour. As they approached the mansion, Burm couldn’t help but observe just how lavish the structure was and how decrepit the grounds looked. The Ashill’s were as old-money as it came in Caso. And old things need die sometimes.
The palace was quiet and opulent. A stark contrast to the normal tenements just beyond the private walls. Burm had been to countless dinner parties and balls at the invitation of other prominent families across the city but the Ashill’s had always kept to themselves. His mother had always claimed it was because of the ill fortune the family seemed to suffer with unexpected deaths. Kida always claimed that the Ashill’s simply thought themselves better than everyone else. Burm had to agree. Patzau Ashill considered herself above all the socializing and politicking.
As Burm stared up at the dark quarried stone and the intricate carvings detailed into the old building, he reaffirmed that belief. The door was unlocked and yawned open on silent hinges. The foyer was empty and the halls were quiet. Despite himself, Burm found one hand on his sword. Inside the wide octagonal foyer, a grand stairway up to a lavish indoor balcony. The stone inside was polished and shone with the pearlescence. Mosaic friezes decorated the floors, depicting sailing and other motifs common amongst the old houses of Caso. As they moved from room to room, the mansion remained silent and empty. Something about the building gave Burm the creeps. It had the feel of something once-great gone sour. Inside, there were signs of life that suggested Ashill had abandoned the place. That was until they entered the library and found her body.
“Spirits of death” one of the soldiers murmured. Burm ignored the unlucky curse. He stood over the Patzau’s lifeless body. The knife used to kill her was still buried deep in her chest. There was wine and blood everywhere. It was hard to tell which stain was which. Both soaked the fine sofa in which she laid awkwardly broken.
“Well…” he said flatly, “not much of fight left in her then.”
“Who killed her?” Seer said, looking around the room. “Couldn’t have been a robbery, all of her fancy junk is still here.”
“Do you think its like Rozi said,” Capu added. “That the tribesmen got her?”
“They wouldn’t have been able to resist the riches, greedy bastards” Burm said, willing the two soldiers to shup up. “No. She’s been dead since yesterday. Take a look around the house. Somebody’s been here and I want to know who.”
The soldiers spread out through the house. He took a seat across from Yanata and stared at her lifeless corpse. A few minutes later, the soldiers returned with Kida. His friend came in with her head held high. She didn’t even cast a glance at her mother’s body. Ah, well this is a surprise. I didn’t think you had it in you.
“Patzau Burm” Kida said, addressed him. She saluted. “How may I be of service?”
“We came to speak with your mother,” Burm replied.
Kida looked the soldiers up and down before speaking. “You seem well armed for a simple chat. Not interested in whatever racket is sounding down at the south gate?” she asked.
“We were here to question your mother about the release of Patzau Minoc” Burm said, ignoring the question. “I suspect she freed him before she was removed by the council.”
“Don’t play coy with me Gal” Kida said, suddenly impatient. “I’ve known you since we were kids. You came to remove her from play. Arrest her and send her to the same execution block that Minoc was sentence to.” The sour look on his face was enough confirmation. Kida snorted derisively. “Well, I’ve saved you the hassle. She freed Minoc. She confessed to it—was fucking proud of herself too, as if she weren’t a fucking traitor. I handled it for you. Its done.”
The bitterness in her words came as a shock. “You killed her?” Burm asked. He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear her say it. He needed others to hear her say it.
“I’m a proud Casoyan,” Kida said, her voice flat, “and a proud officer of the guild. It is my duty to eliminate traitors and threats to Caso. I just wish I had caught Minoc first. I could have slit his throat too. Before he ever had the chance to corrupt her with his patronizing bullshit. Before he… drove her into these delusions.” Kida met his stare, her eyes hard. “I’ve set things right.”
A ripple of genuine unfeigned surprise passed over him. Her own daughter, Burm thought. He couldn’t imagine himself finding the same strength if he were confronted with the same betrayal. She was remarkable. Admiration flooded him. He calculated his next steps. This wasn’t exactly what had been planned, but he could work with this version of events. Especially with Kida’s testimony, the kickback would be minimal and the proof would be more damning coming from Yanata’s own daughter. This was much simpler. Cleaner. No need for a trial. And more significantly, there would be no need to cow the remaining loyalists. Without Yanata, there would be no figurehead to flock to. My position as Patzau is undisputable, cemented by her treasonous death. He smiled at that. Now there was only one last loose end to tie.
Burm’s thought shifted to the next name on his list of problematic traitors, Patzau Minoc’s Aginjigaade. The one that the fool Adagizhi let slip through his fingers. She and Kida’s twin sister had assaulted a pair of his soldiers yesterday. The same sister who had listened in and revealed his recovery of the Auction House treasure. She will need to disappear too. He hadn’t intended to bring up the matter with Kida, but her loyalties to the guild seemed unquestionable considering recent circumstances. His opinion of her had improved. Besides, he didn’t have to tell her his intentions. All he needed was her whereabouts.
“Kida,” Burm said addressing her, “Have you seen your sister recently?” He was careful to keep his voice neutral. Her expression remained unreadable but something tensed within her at that name. With their history, it was impossible to know what the gesture meant to her.
“No,” Kida lied, her voice unwavering. “Not for some time.” She added, “Yuromi made friends with that stupid prince that lost his uncle and his fortune. Its just like her, to find another broken unwanted person. They’d be perfect for each other. People who could have mattered.”
“Are they together?” Burm asked, pressing the matter. “A couple?”
“How should I know?” Kida asked. She hoped not.
Burm’s gaze sharpened. There was a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. It disappeared as quick as it had come. “It’s Minoc’s Aginjigaade that I’m looking for. That little tribal girl he always had at his side. Kuta,” he explained. “They were reportedly seen together.”
But Kida, already one-foot into the lie, continued to maintain her deception. “I haven’t seen her” she said simply. She felt no grief for her mother, whose weakness she despised, but neither did she feel any particular fondness for Yuromi. And so, it came as a surprise to her when she lied for her twin sister. Even Kida didn’t understand the sudden, unbidden impulse.
Burm relented. “You did well, Kida” he said, a rare note of approval in his voice. “Sometimes, we are forced into impossible situations. It is the mark of a true and loyal Casoyan that you would choose to uphold our values; decency itself.” He gave her a curt nod. “After the mess at the gates is remedied, find me. I will ensure your loyalty does not go unrewarded.” Kida smiled at that and he saw the predator she was in her eyes. I can use her. Her name. Her ambition. I see a weapon, ready to be used. All I need do is point her in the right direction.
Burm left, soldiers at his heels. They marched through the hollow home, the sound of their boots echoing across the empty halls. The cacophony of bells joined them at the door. Gone was the tune for the South Gate. Gone was the semblance of information, of direction. Racket remained.
“Why didn’t you press that Yuromi was seen with Minoc’s Aginjigaade?” Seer asked as they marched through the garden. “She might also be a traitor like Patzau Ashill–er, Yanata.”
“It doesn’t matter if Kida knows her sister is a traitor” Burm said. “Yuromi be handled soon enough.” He pushed his way out through the gate. People were running through the streets. A boy in the crowd ran straight into him. He staggered and then Burm pushed the boy to the ground out of his way. “Move” he ordered.
A woman collected the boy and Burm scowled at her as she hurried away. Yuromi has her mother’s propensity to cause trouble. Another threat to be removed when advantageous. Dealing with her would also relieve that inner nagging feeling that ate away in the back of Burm’s mind. Elvi had nearly revealed his misdealings with Patzau Yohati. There was only one person whom she might have learned it from.
*
Kida rushed from the room. She couldn’t bare the sight of her mother’s corpse. She told herself it was because she couldn’t bare the reminder of her mother’s treachery. Kida rushed up her bedroom. She closed herself off, fighting against the tremors that shook her body. She raked her nails against her forearms, willing the pain to replace the shakes. Dry heaving sobs rushed to the surface. And when they slipped out, the anger within burst out savagely to punish everything breakable in proximity. Frustration ate at what little composure she had left. Lifting her illum stone lamp, Kida removed the stone within and hurled it across the room at a mirror on her wall. Both shattered and the illum stone exploded into a flurry of glowing particles that rose towards the high ceiling. Kida looked at her broken reflection in the mirror. Why does my body betray me in this way? She got what she deserved.
Her breaths came hard and deep. Silent sobs filled the silent mansion. No one remained. No servants. No guards. No gardeners or washers. No cooks or cleaners. Just Kida Ashill; last of a dynasty. Kida had heard her mother’s conversation. The traitor had told Yuromi and Kuta to leave the city. She had practically begged. Even Minoc’s mountain whore was worth her care. But not me. I should have killed her too. And Yuromi. Each and every one of those filthy traitors.
The muffled sounds of rebellion grew closer. Kida seethed and fumed as the city burned. She closed herself off, lost in her private torment. But the distant rumble grew steadily until it was a roaring tide. She rose in a stupor and peered through her bedroom window as a wave of people flooded into the grounds through the gatehouse. They wielded weapons, torches, and anger. They streamed towards the estate with vindictive purpose until they were almost at the front door. Kida stared, uncomprehending, and then panic replaced numbness. The will to live took control. Kida latched her door, and then, thinking better of it, toppled her clothes dresser down in front of the door too. Crashes and destruction echoed through the house. She hurried about the room, tossing more objects on the pile at the door. A rock crashed through her bedroom window and she let out a scream. The latch on the door jiggled on the other side. Kida snatched a pair of scissors and gripped it tight in her hands, as if it might save her. Shouts echoed from the other side of the door. Strange words and anger. Kida clutched the scissors close to her chest. Her hands shook, as did the door as a body slammed against it. The latch held, but for how much longer, Kida wasn’t sure.
*
The tolling bells were more a nuisance than a concern to Patzau Yohati. He sat at his desk in his study and let them drone on. Today would be a difficult day. One of loss and tragedy. But a necessity for what was to come next. Yohati sat with absolute composure, surrounded by his family. They didn’t share his relaxed comfort. To them, today’s events would be disconcerting. If only they understood what this sacrifice was for. Instead, his wife and daughter lounged in the corner of the room and looked uncomfortable. Why? Yohati couldn’t fathom. They were surrounded by a full company of soldiers. Yohati’s guards, hand-bribed for their loyalty, defended every conceivable entrance. It was a private fortress; the most secure palace in the city and when Viiran’s assassins came, he wanted to remain undisturbed. There was nothing more he could do for today; all Yohati could do now was plan for tomorrow. That, and document his actions for future generations to revere. All would know the tale of how Patzau Burrenal Yohati saved Caso.
A knock sounded from the door. The pattern matched the code. Yohati looked up from his musings and nodded at his most-trusted servants. They unlatched the door and received a wax tablet from a disembodied hand. It was brought to his desk. Good, Yohati thought to himself, the ships must have been spotted. He received the message and read the carved words to himself. It was an update from the city watch, who had repelled an incursion from the North Gate. No ships.
Fera’s voice bit into the silence. “Aren’t you going to share what’s going on, father?” Yohati set down his stylus and peered over the desk at his daughter. She met his gaze with a determined look. She continued, “Yesterday I thought you had gone mad. You wouldn’t let me attend Jira Powanati’s party and you wouldn’t explain why. Now I understand why. You knew.”
“Fera” Reah sat, trying to cajole her daughter into quiet obedience.
Fera’s accusation hung there in the silence. She was right, of course. Yohati had known this was coming. Bribes can elicit all kinds of secret information, especially to the right people. He took a quiet sip from a glass of water before addressing her assertion, “I had some knowledge, yes, that suggested the rioters in Mudtown might make a fuss today” Yohati said dismissively.
“A fuss?” Fera repeated. “A fuss that requires a doubling of our guard?”
Yohati smiled at his daughter. She was wily like her mother, but tenacious like himself. It was easy to try as dismiss her as young and spoiled, and he had done so many times over the past few years, but tactful arguments like this cemented his pride in his parenting. “Do I look worried?”
She chewed on the question. “No,” Fera answered. “But you could have told us.”
“If my information was wrong, you might have told others and then there would have been a panic” Yohati countered. “Better to prepare silently and let the Soldier’s Guild handle the problem if it comes. A good leader anticipates and prepares, but a great leader knows who and what to trust with full confidence. Caso will endure this trouble.”
“It sounds like the rioters are already inside the city” Fera said. Reah remained quiet, but matched her daughter’s concerned look. “The bells have been tolling madness for hours.”
“All will be well” Yohati said in a soothing voice. “Help is on the way.”
A second knock interrupted. The door opened for a second time and another message was presented to the servant. Yohati received it. Anticipation flickered in his eyes as he took the message. It was parchment this time, but that hadn’t seemed odd in the moment of anticipation. So many different bits of news were expected today. Their arrival, Yanata’s arrest, Viiran’s capture. But as Yohati turned the scrolled parchment over, he noticed the wax on the letter remained unsigned or sealed, unmarked by guild, family, or crest. He broke the seal and swept his gaze over the words. As he read, his expression shifted from curious to concerned. The script, although unsigned, was immediately recognizable. Yohati’s posture stiffened with his demeanor as he read on. The lines of his jaw tightened. The letter read:
Burrenal Yohati,
I write you these words from exile; a disgrace you so diligently orchestrated. Yet, even from this vantage point, clarity, it seems, remains a luxury denied you. Despite our history, let me impart some clarity one last time.
Treachery is unbecoming on you. Despite how clever and insurmountable you may feel in this moment, the truth of what you have done and what it has cost will be revealed. As I have learned, no secret remains so forever. My time alone following your betrayal rendered certain enlightenments. Looking back, it is clear that you spent years, if not decades, working to this end. I see it clearly in the path you walked, the votes you orchestrated, the schemes you enacted, and the fellow Patzau you manipulated. I expect, like me, they too will be removed when convenient.
You have sold your integrity and cast aside the Casoyan way, undermining the foundations of what the original five Patzau achieved after overthrowing the last Casoyan King. Like him, you will one day learn the error of your ways. You may parade your pragmatism as necessary, but in your deeds, I only see a grotesque vanity. You have sacrificed not just the lives and ways of our people, but the very essence of what made Caso successful and wealthy over the last millennia. You envision a new Caso. One in which you will build yourself a throne for your ambitions. A Kingdom like the one of old, built upon the ashes of prosperity and atop a foundation of greed and arrogance. I will not allow it.
Let this letter serve as my vow: I shall dedicate every fiber of my being to dismantling your new Kingdom of tyranny and oppression. Every lie you whisper will be exposed. Each person pushed aside and discarded will be avenged. My ghost will haunt you until your final breath. The new future you envision will be but a blip in the grand history of what once came and what will one day be. I will fight you until Caso breathes free once more, unsullied by your corrupt hand.
Your friend,
Mellen Minoc
Yohati stared down at Minoc’s words and scowled. Not at the insults or the insinuations, but at the failure in which Mellen Minoc was allowed to escape. He cursed the mishap and Yanata’s cowardly betrayal. Minoc’s words felt like ash in his mouth. The fat viper will be a problem now, and it will be a long and patient time before he reveals his fangs. And yet, for all his intelligence and blustering, Minoc still failed to grasp the true scope of Yohati’s ambition. He didn’t yearn for a crown. He had been king of this city without one for decades. No, Yohati sought a far grander prize, a more secure mantle of power and legacy. He had orchestrated this very string of events for that very purpose, and Mellen Minoc underestimated just how impossible his declaration would prove to be.
The reveal of Minoc’s pledged defiance soured the Patzau’s mood entirely. The unfettered composure he had felt all morning, despite the bells and chaos, dissolved. It was replaced by a simmering rage. Reah, ever attuned to her husband’s moods, sensed the subtle change in Yohati’s silence. The nervous stillness in the study was replaced with an unspoken tension. The two servants also noticed their master’s change. They watched him as Fera, ignorant of her father’s temper, read the spines from the many rare books shelved across the walls. Reah furrowed her brow with delicate concern, before tentatively breaking the tense silence.
“Burrenal?” Reah asked, her voice feigning composure, “What was written on that letter?”
Yohati looked up at his wife, sitting comfortable across the room. He smiled, despite his inner turmoil. “Just a letter.” he answered, evasive with the truth. “Nothing worth worrying about today, and certainly nothing I can’t handle” he added with a smile.
He believed those words. Nothing I can’t handle. Minoc’s ignorance renders his bluster meaningless. He smiled again, trying to reassure the two women who meant most to him in this world. All they need do now was wait out the storm and wait for the soldiers to restore order. Then, the next phase could begin.
Leave a Reply