Valkyrie's Shadow

Chapter 21

The entrance to the hall opened, out of which a procession of House Wagner’s sharply-dressed household servants entered the room carrying trays of refreshments and the first course of lunch. As they worked their way down from the head of the hall, the sound of voices grew into a dull murmur which blanketed the air.

“Why did I have to open my mouth?” Clara said despondently as she pushed her crisp salad around its plate with her fork, “I just said the first thing that came to my mind and now we’re doing it! If it doesn’t work, it will be my fault…”

“Well, it’s not wrong,” Lady Gagnier said before taking a sip out of her wine glass. “It’s basically the only thing we can do…right? Nothing else comes to my mind, at least.”

“It’s not enough,” Clara said. “I don’t think it’s enough, anyways. House Fassett still has full authority over their own demesne – all we’ll be doing is shaking our fist at them ineffectually.”

The three women looked up as a shadow crossed the polished black surface of the table. Baroness Wagner appeared and sat across from Ludmila with her food brought along by a maid.

“Ah…I screwed up,” Lady Wagner fretted, even as she settled herself. “Why did I arrange the seats this way? The Counts should have been up at the head table with their host – now I just look like some ignorant child with a big head sitting up there on my own looking down on everyone.”

The three other noblewomen at the table stared at her blankly. Lady Wagner’s eyes went to each with growing uncertainty.

“Oh gods,” strands of her pale, blonde hair nearly fell into her food as she hung her head, “I was right, wasn’t I?”

“I think you have the right of it…” Lady Gagnier started slowly, “but it hardly matters right now with the establishment poised to crash down on our heads.”

“Eh?” Lady Wagner’s eyes focused as she looked up, “That’s right, isn’t it. I’m sorry for being so selfish – did I interrupt something?”

“Clara was just talking about how she screwed u–ai!”

Ludmila snatched her hand away from the table and turned a hurt look at Clara, who was brandishing her silver salad fork.

“That hurts, you know.”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Clara sniffed. “I know Adventurers are tougher than regular people – ballista bolts would probably bounce off of you by now.”

Ludmila glowered down at the four indentations in her skin.

“What happened to those table manners that you used to always fuss over?” She asked.

“We’re probably all doomed anyways,” Clara replied glumly. “Perhaps I should become an Adventurer as well.”

“It can’t be as bad as everyone says,” Ludmila said. “This is all an exaggeration right? What could House Fassett have possibly done that would turn the rest of us into collateral damage?”

“Slavery…trafficking contraband?” Lady Gagnier said.

“Extortion and racketeering,” Lady Wagner nodded.

“Conspiracy against their fellow nobles in the duchy,” Clara chimed in.

Ludmila slowly turned her head to each noblewoman at the table as they spoke, she felt her mouth work silently as she absorbed what they had said.

“This…this is surely some sort of joke…” Her eyes went back and forth again between each of them, “No. Nonono – how? How is this possible? They swore fealty to the King; they were nobles of Re-Estize, subject to the same laws as we. Lord Rettenmeier would definitely have not allowed all of that to happen.”

“I know for a fact that you’ve heard that this is not the case,” Clara said flatly.

“Yes,” Ludmila replied weakly, “but I thought they were just vague, unsubstantiated indiscretions at best – not this flagrant violation of Crown Laws that should have definitely drawn the notice of the court.”

“The Royal Provost was certainly a capable administrator,” Clara replied, “but he ruled from the comfort of the city. House Fassett would never let any damning evidence cross the duchy to reach him.”

“Then how did it become such widespread knowledge?” Ludmila frowned, “Everyone else seems to know exactly what is going on.”

“Because we can see the signs,” Clara replied. “Signs of generations of mismanagement and the scars of short-sighted greed. More than that, some of us can feel it. It is hard to describe, but when certain nobles are exposed to such activity, something…happens. I can’t really explain why, but it is an unmistakable sensation: a visceral disgust that taints your senses.”

On the other side of the table, the two younger noblewomen nodded their heads at her friend’s words.

“Warden’s Vale is too far removed to sense any of this,” Clara continued. “Your only connection to the rest of the realm is through short, periodic trips on the Katze River, so it’s hardly surprising that you weren’t aware of any of what had been going on. Your reaction was recognizable enough, though. House Zahradnik has always been adamantly austere when it comes to observing the order of the realm.”

“I’m still not sure I can believe this,” Ludmila said with a quaver in her voice. “If you all sensed it, then why did no one act until now?”

“It is because we are nobles that we cannot act,” Clara explained patiently. “The duties of a Frontier Noble and the remoteness of their fiefs spares you from most of this: if the nation is invaded by Demihumans or monsters, you deal with those threats directly – killing them, chasing them away or deterring them from encroaching upon the borders. The problems that arise in the interior are mostly created by others of our kind, and are not so easy to remedy through force. Of course, sometimes, Demihumans sneak in and criminals like bandits and smugglers can have a lord’s justice enacted upon them but, by far, the largest problems come in a form that is not so simple to deal with. One moment – Count Völkchenheim will certainly lend credence to this.”

Twisting in her seat, she signaled to one of the footmen attending the room. He immediately took notice and quickly strode over, bowing respectfully before standing straight to await Clara’s instructions.

“Inform Lord Völkchenheim that we would like to speak to him,” Clara said. “Sooner, rather than later.”

The footman nodded in acknowledgement, turning to walk away around the aisle. After raising a crystal goblet filled with sparkling rosé to wet her throat, Clara continued her explanation.

“If we arbitrarily act against another noble outside of our jurisdiction, then we ourselves would be breaking the law. If a rogue lord operates in such a manner that does not give others just cause to act, our hands are tied. Even this action – this sanction – is nothing more than a double-edged measure in normal circumstances: it can as much have them delve deeper into their illegal activities to offset their losses as it can encourage them to amend their ways. Given that both sides of House Fassett are invested in their struggle, it is highly likely that it will force both Jacqueline and Campbell to entrench themselves even further.”

“I do not believe this is the only option,” a familiar voice said from over Ludmila’s shoulder: Torkel Völkchenheim had come over from his table. “I apologize for the intrusion, but I could not help but jump in when I noticed your topic.”

The young Count looked around for a suitable place to sit, finally settling on having a chair brought over to the head of the table so he could equally address all four noblewomen.

“In other circumstances,” he said, “I would say that it is a pleasure to be in the presence of such lovely and capable young women, but this troubling business casts a pall over our meeting.”

They nodded politely at his greeting, and Clara picked up the conversation as he took his seat.

“You were saying something about sanctions not being our only option, Lord Völkchenheim?” She asked.

“Yes…yes, I did.” He nodded, “We were discussing a similar outcome at the other table, trying to puzzle out if there was another way to resolve this crisis. With the collective will of the House of Lords being delivered in the form of harsh sanctions, a defensive reaction would almost certainly be the response. I proposed that we give them another avenue to choose from.”

“Carrot and stick,” Lady Wagner surmised. “You propose to give them a more attractive option in the face of a plainly belligerent one.”

“Just so,” Count Völkchenheim smiled at Lady Wagner’s immediate comprehension, “but not only that. Whoever accepts our offer will receive our support in their bid for the succession, and they will be beholden to us from that point forward – after which we can nudge them in the right direction.”

“But in that case,” Clara said, “they will either both refuse knowing that we will gain influence over them, or they will both accept out of fear that the other will gain an insurmountable advantage. What happens then?”

“If they both refuse, then we will proceed with our sanctions,” Count Völkchenheim answered. “If they both accept, then we will settle the claim through arbitration. I know, it will probably not be that pretty – Countess Jezne laughed in my face when I put forward the idea,” he glanced over at the other table for a moment and lowered his voice, “but that sour old goat is almost certainly made entirely out of the sawdust that comes out of her mills.”

“Her reaction is not entirely unwarranted,” Lady Wagner said. “It may simply be replacing one problem with another, and if the Royal Court investigates the matter and notices that we are all holding hands with them…”

Count Völkchenheim’s confident poise deflated somewhat as she poked a fearsome hole in his idea.

“Even if your best-case scenario came to pass…” Ludmila added, “even if the succession was resolved and they corrected their conduct, House Fassett would still need to be called to account for whatever they did.”

“Lord Völkchenheim,” Clara said. “If you do not mind...could you share with Lady Zahradnik what occurred in your grandfather’s time between your houses?”

“Of course,” he replied, “I have nothing but respect for the Frontier Nobles…though I suppose you are the only one that is left around here. Our demesne has had a taste of what the wilderness offers since their decline – to the point where my family has required their scions to prove their worth through combat with Demihumans and monsters. I can only imagine that you are ever focused outwards at the border.”

“That may not be the case for long,” Ludmila answered. “The Sorcerer King’s armies make my station effectively obsolete. I still command the frontier, but most of the work now is done by Undead soldiers rather than Human patrols. With this development, it might be for the best if I was acquainted with the politics of the interior.”

“I am not sure how much Lady Corelyn has shared with you,” Count Völkchenheim said, “but I will start at the beginning. Well, the beginning of what matters here. It is not an exciting tale by any measure, really…”

Count Völkchenheim swirled his drink for a minute as he collected his thoughts, the crystal glass glinting in the light of the magical lamps above. After downing half of what remained, he leaned in to tell his tale.

“It is not difficult to notice that Völkchenheim County is rather small compared to other, similar territories: it is barely the size of two Baronies…neither is it very well developed, if I were to be perfectly honest. The village where our manor is only has a single inn for merchants and a handful of stores, and the people do not live the lives that their hard work should have earned them. Though the decline of the Frontier Nobles had some small part in this, it is more due to what happened in my grandfather’s time.

Our family’s demesne originally had four baronies: two which ran along the western highway and the two we hold today. House Fassett was not satisfied with the small stretch of the road that they controlled and they sought to wrest our part away from us. They…engineered an incident. The previous Count Fassett married one of his daughters into House Völkchenheim – to the younger brother of my grandfather, who was granted one of the baronies along the highway to administer.

We did not know of House Fassett’s…disposition back then. Or maybe that is just when they began the fall into their current state. My grandfather simply thought that it was a friendly overture to seal an amicable relationship between our two houses. But then that woman who married my granduncle began to twist everything about him. Under her influence, he changed…for the worse.

My grandfather tried to reason with him, but everything he said seemingly fell on deaf ears – so twisted my granduncle was around the Fassett woman’s little finger. Within the first year of his marriage, my granduncle implemented several policies that were poorly thought out or even plainly greedy and harmful to the people. By the third year, his barony was clearly in bad shape: bandits and highwaymen were rampant and there were rumors of other shady groups entrenching themselves there.

It was then that my grandfather decided to end the problem and strip him of his title…but, for the love of his dear brother, he had waited too long: House Fassett was well ahead of him by that point. When he arrived at my granduncle’s manor, my Grandfather instead found a Crown Prosecutor waiting for him. He was sent to trial in E-Rantel, accused of abusing his powers, mismanaging his demesne, and flouting the contract between himself and King Rampossa. With House Fassett and all of their well placed ‘witnesses’, he could not defend himself adequately from the charge – even the Provost at the time was also in House Fassett’s pocket.

The court’s verdict was that my grandfather was unfit for his duties and he was stripped of half of his titles for his ‘corrupt acts’ and the failure to uphold his obligations. Both of those baronies taken away were to be awarded to House Fassett so they could ‘properly oversee’ them, but the King in the end decided to grant one as a title to an unassociated noble who had risen through service elsewhere.

The damage was done, however. House Fassett now had control of a huge stretch of the western highway, free to exploit it as they pleased, along with their newly acquired barony. My granduncle died of an ‘accident’ shortly after that, and my grandfather died a broken man, leaving what was left of our impoverished county to my lord father. The Provost stationed in E-Rantel continued to work for House Fassett, and retired to the Royal Capital decades later a wealthy man. Lord Rettenmeier was appointed in his place shortly after.”

In the silence that followed, Count Völkchenheim drained what was left of his glass and returned to his table without a word.

“Now do you understand what House Fassett is?” Clara’s voice held a tinge of anger following the recounting.

“…Lady Zahradnik, are you alright?” Lady Wagner’s voice came from across the table, jarring Ludmila from her thoughts.

Her unfocused vision sharpened and she saw Baroness Wagner looking back at her with a worried expression. Clara and Lady Gagnier were looking at her the same way as well.

Ludmila was uncertain what sort of face she was putting on, so she looked down at the table instead. There, over her murky reflection, she found that her hands had turned white: gripping the wooden table so tightly that her fingernails were leaving marks over the polished surface. She slowly loosened her grip, but now all the tension had nowhere to go. Hiding her hands under the table, she flexed and unflexed her fingers and, finding that it didn’t help at all, she forced her hands to rest on her lap.

“I’m alright,” she answered tersely. “I’m al–”

I’m alright? There’s no way I can be ‘alright’.

Ludmila swallowed before speaking again as emotions continued to roil around somewhere deep inside her.

“I’m sorry, I must excuse myself,” she said as she rose abruptly. “Please, let me know what is decided upon later.”

She stepped away from the table and brushed past the startled footman who had stepped forward to attend to her, rapidly making her way towards the exit.

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