Chương 45: 44. Fealty

The pages looked frightened, their horses exhausted. Tavian was relieved to see them both alive.

"What news?" he asked eagerly. These were the boys that he'd sent to Lady Calenor. If she opened up her vaults to him, they might have gold to sift for—"No news," the boy said.

"I mean, there was nobody there. The gate was open, and we rode in and yelled." The other boy cut in.

"I thought I saw someone in a window, but we didn't check. We should have checked, Brak, I told you."

"What if it was a ghoul?" Brak snapped back.

"Did you see how fast they were?" He gestured to a long scratch on his horse's flank.

"You saw nobody there?" Tavian asked.

"Were the horses still in the stables? Or did it look like someone had left in a hurry? Did you see any blood?"

"We didn't look around much," Brak said.

"Just announced ourselves, and yelled, until we started attracting ghouls."

"We didn't look in the stables," the other boy said.

"But we delivered the message you gave us."

"We left it, at least," Brak said.

"On the ground in the courtyard." The boys looked defeated, like they'd somehow messed things up.

"Hmm," Tavian frowned and crossed his arms. Why would Lady Calenor abandon her compound? Where would she have gone? It didn't make sense.

"Well done, you two. Go tend to your horses," he said, dismissing the boys. They trotted off, looking glum. Had Anarvia tried making a move against every House at the same time? Could he have sent assassins against all of them? Or did Lady Calenor have some kind of hideaway, like the Brask's island, that she'd kept hidden? Somewhere to run to as soon as trouble broke out? Was Anarvia moving cautiously because he didn't know where all the other Houses were? A child was crying in the griffin stables.

"There's no more room in here," someone shouted angrily.

"My lord," Vanal said.

"I'm certain that these people have valuables on them." He pointed to the refugees.

"It's not like people to leave home without bringing something of value." Tavian exhaled through his nose. Wherever Lady Calenor had gone, it would have to wait. He pushed open the stable doors. People were crowded into every griffin stall. The air smelled of dust and sweat. Priests, priestesses, and their families, all gathered here, desperate for protection, and reliant on Tavian for their survival. More refugees huddled outside. Any one of them could be a spy or an assassin.

"Who's in charge, here," Tavian asked, looking around.

"Anyone speak for the priests of Ishtoran?" A murmur went through the crowd, as they noticed Tavian. A man pushed through and stood in front of Tavian, golden hair shining in the dimly lit stables. Valliroth.

"My lord," he said, bowing deeply.

"Welcome to our humble abode."

"This is my kingdom," Tavian said.

"I'm the ruler here." Valliroth did not reply. He had a bandage wrapped around his head, and he shied away from the light, covering his eyes.

"Your people want food," Tavian said.

"You want protection. I want valuables to sift. We're on the same side."

"Tavian," Valliroth said.

"You can't do anything good with the power of miasma. Put it aside, then we can talk." Tavian lifted his tunic, revealing his side.

"Calli is extracting it." Valliroth leaned in. Shadows fell across his face.

"All of it?" he asked, pointing at the dark haze that was spreading out from under his bandage.

"Soon," Tavian said. He knew that Valliroth was still recovering from arrow wounds and a blow to his head. The man wasn't in a condition to be reasonable.

"Come back when it's gone," Valliroth said.

"You're tainted by the dark. Marked by death."

"You're not a priest, Val," Tavian said.

"Can we talk alone? I need House Tiren." The priests behind Valliroth bore their maces. Not menacingly. Not yet.

"I have nothing to say so long as you bear the taint," Valliroth said.

"You're not acting right. Your mind is warped. Go seek healing, then return."

"No," Tavian countered.

"I'm here now. You know that Anarvia is far worse than us. He destroyed the temple with miasmic ghouls. You need to help us or else he will win."

"One demon is the same as another. We will not pick a side as long as you carry the taint. Besides, we have very little here worth sifting. A few curios. What these priests and priestesses saved from the flames are mostly sacred artifacts." Valliroth seemed weary. He wobbled. He needed to lie down. Tavian clenched his fist. He didn't have to let the priests shelter here, in his fortress. He could throw them out. Let them fend for themselves against the ghouls.

His eyes swept across the faces of scared people looking up at him. Children. Families. He needed to do something with these people. He needed to mitigate the risks, too. He couldn't have a religious resistance movement growing within his own walls. An idea came to him. He walked to the doors of the stables, standing so that priests and refugees could all hear him.

"You are guests in my kingdom," Tavian said, speaking more loudly, so that everyone could hear. Valliroth might speak for House Tiren, now, but he did not speak for everyone sheltered here.

"But you could be subjects. If we stand together against Anarvia, we have a chance of defeating him." You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. A few murmurs of agreement ran through the merchants that Tavian had just met.

"I have an offer for you," Tavian said.

"A binding oath. You give me something, I give you something. I require from you something of value, and a promise. First; that you will defend the kingdom when called upon, and second, that you will give no aid or comfort to the enemies of the kingdom. In exchange, you will become my subject. I will admit you to the inner keep. You will have first claim on food." He looked at the crowd.

"And if we refuse?" Valliroth asked darkly.

"You'll feed us to the ghouls?"

"No," Tavian said.

"I can't coerce you into a binding oath. You can stay here, protected only by the outer wall. We have water to share, but I can't promise you food."

"We reject your offer, tainted one," Valliroth said.

"I tell you that no priest of Ishtoran will swear fealty to one corrupted by miasma."

"Fine," Tavian said, turning to leave. Vanal looked at him pleadingly, like he was going to protest. Tavian grabbed Vanal by the arm and pulled the man in close.

"Wait," Tavian whispered as they walked toward the door.

"It's not over yet."

"My lord!" The fat merchant grabbed at Tavian's tunic, stopping him.

"Yes?" Tavian asked, without turning.

"We accept your offer," the man said.

"My family and I, please." He gestured at the people crowded close to him.

"Is this a sufficient offering?" He produced a pouch of coins from his hip, and pressed it into Tavian's hands. Tavian handed it to Vanal, who said, "Yes!"

"No," Tavian said.

"That will suffice for you." The man plucked rings from his fingers.

"My wife," he said, pressing a ring into Tavian's hands for each person he named.

"My son, and his wife, and their four children." Tavian's Appraising Eye Perk kicked in as he examined the rings. Five of them appeared to be genuine, and Vanal could [Extract] around ten Essence from each of them. One of them was a counterfeit, and wouldn't even produce a single Essence. Tavian glanced at the man, wondering if he knew the ring was a fake. He decided that the merchant had been duped; the ring was a clever fake. Tavian passed the rings to Vanal.

"Six rings, and your pouch of coins," he said.

"That is enough for seven people. You're short by one." If he pressed this man hard, everyone else would feel relieved when their own price was lower. The man's face turned red.

"I have nothing else, my lord." He wiped sweat from his brow.

"Will you exclude my granddaughter?" He hoisted a 2 year old child in his arms. The little girl looked at Tavian with large eyes. Tavian smiled at her.

"We will take your granddaughter in," Tavian said.

"There are eight of you. You choose which seven will swear fealty." He gave the man a look. The merchant understood it's meaning: as the head of his household, he would be the last to enter the kingdom.

"My lord, his robes," Vanal whispered, but Tavian held up his hand, cutting Vanal off. He couldn't examine the robes closely enough for Appraising Eye to give him a value, not while the man was wearing them. The merchant squirmed, looking around uncomfortably. His wife grabbed his arm.

"My gown?" she asked. It was a fine gown, but it was torn and stained from their flight to the fortress.

"Yes, yes, and my robes!" the man exclaimed.

"Please, sir?"

"Are you a man of honor?" Tavian asked.

"Will you leave behind your granddaughter? or will you stay back yourself?"

"Please," the woman cried, digging inside her blouse, and producing a diamond studded silver necklace.

"Take this!"

"Mara, no," the merchant hissed.

"That will suffice," Tavian said, taking the necklace. Appraising Eye showed him the necklace was finely crafted, and would be worth at least 25 Essence when sifted.

"We will also have the robes, for our trouble. Each of you prepare to swear fealty." ⬣ New Subjects ⬣ ⬣ Kingdom Population: 195 ⬣"Now, follow me," Tavian said.

"We have food and shelter for you, within the Keep!" At that, a dozen people began clamoring for their chance to swear the oath. After the merchant and his family were dealt with, Vanal spoke softly.

"My lord, you leaned on the screws quite hard."

"I made an example of them," Tavian said.

"They could afford it. And now all that follow will be relieved, when their admittance is cheaper."

"Did you notice that this ring is fake?" Vanal asked.

"I did," Tavian said.

"But I don't think anyone else knows that. I didn't want it to turn into a fight about authenticity. But in the future, we'll have to watch out for that." It took some time, but Tavian soon had a system set up, whereby Vanal would extract valuables from the refugees, and then they would come swear their Binding Oath to Tavian. Vanal did not press all the refugees as hard as Tavian did, but some of them had come genuinely empty handed to the the fortress.

A fight broke out when a desperate man tried taking a small silver statue from one of the priests, but it was quickly broken up. None of the priests came to swear fealty. ⬣ Kingdom Population: 234 ⬣ The kingdom was growing, but many of the new subjects were children. While Vanal had been occupied extracting a growing collection of valuables, the kingdom had been bleeding essence. Vanal had a small barrow filled with loot once they'd processed all the new subjects.

"Come on, Vanal," Tavian said.

"Time to get back to sifting." The man gestured at his barrow filled with gold, silver, gems, silks, and other precious, refined materials. He was beaming.

"This will buy us a few more days, for sure," he declared. Tavian appraised the barrow as being worth at least a few hundred Essence. Maybe even enough to double their Influence, if they could just get the miasmic surges under control. Tavian shot a glance back to the griffin stables. The priests, and the poor refugees there were still a problem. As they walked back toward the core, someone ran up behind them. It was a woman, a priestess, dragging a young boy with her.

"My lord," she said, gasping for breath.

"Please, I wish to swear fealty to you. Me, and my son." She had a cut on her cheek. A droplet of blood slid down her jaw and dropped to the ground.

"What do you have for us to sift?" Tavian asked.

"Nothing, my lord," she said.

"The others took everything from me."

"Why?"

"Valliroth says he is defending us from an evil being that has possessed your body," she said.

"To me… I don't think that you are possessed. And my son is so hungry."

"If you can't offer anything—""Please, my lord, I can give you information. The others, they pretend that they are only protecting sacred relics, and valuable scrolls, but I can show you where they are hiding their chests of gold coin."

"Gold coin?" Tavian said, stopping short.

"Yes, my lord," the woman said.

"Please."

"Where is it hidden? In the stables? I'll have them searched." He could order his men to search at any time, but if the priests decided to fight back, it could get nasty. It would be better to find out exactly where the gold was, and extract it quickly.

"What of us?" the woman asked.

"If we find gold, like you say, then I'll accept that as your payment," Tavian said.

"We'll search tonight. Where is the gold?"

"In three large chests," the woman said.

"Valliroth sleeps atop them."

"You're certain they're just full of gold?" The woman nodded vigorously.

"If you're lying…"

"No, my lord. Please, it's for my son." That night Tavian and a dozen men entered the griffin stables. A few people were awake, sitting around a barrel lit by a single, dwindling candle. Tavian led his men straight to where Valliroth was sleeping. He was, indeed, lying on an old door, supported by three large chests.

"Wake up, Val" Tavian said, heaving the door. Valliroth sprang to his feet, drawing his sword. When he saw it was Tavian, he did not sheath the weapon. Priests grabbed for their maces as Tavian pushed the door aside. He threw one of the chests open. Gold and silver statuettes glittered inside. Tavian balked. He'd expected coin, or bullion. Tavian picked one up, examining it in the torchlight, trying to be sure of what he held.

It was a small figure of Ishtoran, with the weight of heavy metal, not like the gilded plaster castings the priests sold to pilgrims.

"You told me you only had religious artifacts. Don't you sell these to pilgrims? They're commercial products."

"Your greed betrays you!" Valliroth snarled.

"You aren't Tavian, child of darkness!" The priests looked to Valliroth, waiting for a signal.

"You lied to me," Tavian said.

"That is not the way of Ishtoran. These are not sacred relics."

"Don't tell me what I believe, Child of Horel. These are consecrated to the Temple of Ishtoran." Tavian placed the statue back in the chest. Then, on a whim, he activated Darksight. He was curious if the miasmic surges had tainted the treasures of the Temple. He saw no trace of miasma in the chests and gold. But one thing surprised him. The faintest haze of darkness, swirling around Valliroth's head.

"If you take consecrated idols, you bring the curse of Ishtoran upon you!" Valliroth declared.

"I need gold," Tavian said.

"Consecrated or otherwise. If these mean that much to you, offer me something else." Valliroth pursed his lips, and shook his head.

"We have nothing to give you."

"Will you fight us for these chests?" Tavian eyed the priests. There were more of them, and they were well trained with their maces, but Tavian had brought trained fighters. And they'd be fighting against influence. But Tavian didn't want to kill priests. Valliroth trembled. He scanned the room, making the same calculations. Tavian wasn't sure what he'd do if they tried to fight.