Valkyrie's Shadow

Chapter 5

11th Day, Upper Wind Month, 1 CE, 1800 Hours

Ugh…I’m going to die. I need a drink.

Draudillon placed her pen in its inkwell. She flexed the fingers of her cramped hand, reviewing what was somewhere past her hundredth missive to the various organisations and districts of Oriculon. This particular one was to be sent to the Guild of Shipwrights, whose members had been working nonstop to repair the damaged vessels moored at the city’s piers.

She frowned at the childish structure and vocabulary that filled the first page, which amounted to a letter of recognition and encouragement. Writing in that style was always well-received, but the fact that it was well-received felt strange to her as the years and decades went on.

It was no secret that the Queen of the Draconic Kingdom had reigned over her country for longer than most of its citizens had lived. Despite this, no one ever questioned her youthful appearance. Instead, they embraced it.

On a certain level, she could accept that – what they saw was what she was, after all. On other levels, however, she could only scratch her head over how people stopped thinking once they were satisfied with whatever conclusions they came up with. Surely one would realise that, despite appearances, decades of experience would result in a more mature personality and outlook? Having someone as old as herself acting as if she were a child should surely be seen as bizarre.

She was in fact certain that her subjects understood this. Usually one wouldn’t accept the policies and decrees of a twelve-year-old as prudent or wise. Especially when those policies and decrees had to do with running a country that was in a constant state of being attacked by its predatory neighbours.

Maybe they thought it was all the work of the Royal Court and her ministries? No, even the Royal Court and her ministries saw her that way. Something was just broken in all of their heads and she just went along with it because she was ultimately responsible for how things had turned out.

Draudillon set down the cover letter and picked up the next page. The efforts of the city’s shipwrights had been focused on the fishing fleet for the first two days. Now that many of the fishermen were out working again, she felt that the bulk of the shipwrights’ efforts could be focused on getting the transport fleet afloat again. With the western wharf being torn down to make room for the Sorcerous Kingdom’s exclave, plenty of materials were made available to affect repairs.

After ensuring that the wording of her missive wouldn’t lead to any strange misinterpretations or wild results, she added it to her pile of completed work. Ioena picked up the missive to review. Draudillon stretched and reached for her cup. She sighed inwardly as her lips touched the rim and she remembered that it was filled with water.

During the day of his arrival and half of the next, Sebas served wine whenever she requested a drink. Then someone pointed out that it was unseemly for the Queen to be drinking so much. When Draudillon noted that she wouldn’t remove her poison immunity item and thus couldn’t get drunk, she was told that if she was going to drink wine as if it was water, she may as well drink water instead.

With the state of her finances as it was, she couldn’t present any rational argument in favour of her continued consumption of wine. The most annoying part of it all was that it went from all wine to all water.

“What do you think, Lady Yorsten?”

“I think it’s wonderfully written, Your Majesty,” Ioena smiled. “The shipwrights will surely weep in gladness and work five times harder.”

“…if they work five times harder, We are certain that they will die. Maybe We should rewrite…”

Ioena sped away with the missive, disappearing from the throne room. Draudillon glowered at the hole in the door, then let out a resigned breath.

“You must find this all laughable, Sebas.”

“On the contrary, Your Majesty,” Sebas replied, “I believe that anyone would be pleased to receive recognition. This should be especially so if that recognition comes from the one who rules them.”

“Still, there should be limits…”

It occurred to her that with Ioena gone, she was alone with Sebas. She fussed with her scant outfit and checked her hair. Sebas had stated that he didn’t care how she looked, but she still needed some angle of attack.

Since she would be constantly working with the court, she ended up appearing as her original self. With that being the case, she just decided to be herself.

While Draudillon was of the mind that men would prefer women who were more ‘substantial’ in a physical sense, she also thought that her original self wasn’t terrible. There was probably some appeal to it. A capable, industrious Queen possessed of decades of experience and wisdom, yet blessed with a youthful appearance.

Yes, surely that would be attractive. She was single, as well. Plus, she was a Sorceress. A very rare type of Sorceress that couldn’t normally be born. It all had to count for something.

Then again, men in the north tended to dislike women with power. Unless it led to some sort of sexualisation. Fantasising about having strong women somehow finding a man irresistibly attractive and bearing children for them was fairly common, as far as she knew.

Her physical strength was not much more than what could be considered normal for a Human, so maybe her plan was doing the opposite of what she intended. She was just groping about blindly, hoping her methods would bear fruit.

“We will be visiting locations around the city starting tomorrow,” Draudillon said. “Is there any particular place that interests you?”

“There is no need to change your plans on my account, Your Majesty,” Sebas replied.

“They are just random visits. We will go everywhere eventually so anywhere you choose will serve just as well.”

Silence fell between them. Draudillon resisted the urge to look over her shoulder to gauge his expression. Sebas spoke again just before she did.

“The summer before the last,” he said, “I visited the capital of Re-Estize to perform certain duties. Every day, after I completed my tasks, I would simply choose a direction and walk. I believe this allowed me to see much more than what I would have had I decided on any particular destination.”

“So you ‘chose’ the journey over the destination.”

“Just so, Your Majesty.”

Draudillon grew heated at the warm smile in his voice. She didn’t know whether he was telling the truth or evading the question within her question, but, either way, it was skilfully played. He was strong, yet humble, which was rare. Furthermore, he was gentle, patient and kind. Sebas was best described as a good man, but, at the same time, that description felt woefully inadequate.

Ioena returned to the throne room in the company of Countess Corelyn and her delegation. With their Lady’s Maids came one other: one of the teal-haired Half-Elf Maid Commanders from Baroness Zahradnik’s general staff. They offered their courtesies before moving on to the purpose of their visit.

“Your Majesty,” Countess Corelyn said, “we’ve come to deliver this evening’s updates from the northern front.”

Draudillon checked the time. It was almost exactly one day from Baroness Zahradnik’s last audience.

“While We appreciate a sense of consistency,” Draudillon said, “please do not trouble yourselves if there is little to report. The campaign has just begun and you have many other matters to attend to, yes?”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Countess Corelyn inclined her head. “There were just some matters that we thought best addressed by the Royal Court.”

“Very well,” Draudillon nodded. “What matters do you have to bring to Our attention, Lady Corelyn?”

The Countess looked up at her, withdrawing a folder from the magical container at her waist.

“Foremost is the reinstallation of Blighthold’s civilian administration, now that the city has been secured.”

…

Huh?

“What!”

Draudillon nearly jumped out of her throne as Ioena exploded beside her. The girl’s uncle never did that.

“Lady Corelyn,” Ioena said, “did you just say that Blighthold is back under the Draconic Kingdom’s control, or has weariness led me to start hearing things?”

Countess Corelyn glanced to her side. The Half-Elf Maid came forward and lowered her head.

“Lady Yorsten,” she said, “Blighthold never completely left the Draconic Kingdom’s control, but it has now been secured by our forces. We’ve already started delivering supplies to the city. The Beastman clan occupying the province has mostly been destroyed and their remnants are fleeing toward the Seylan River. Once we’ve ensured that no harm will come to your subjects as the Beastmen retreat, Baroness Zahradnik will be heading to Highfort with an infantry company to relieve the defenders. We estimate that the entire province will be cleared of Beastmen within two days.”

Ioena staggered over to her desk and flopped into her chair, staring blankly at nothing in particular. Draudillon turned her attention back to the Sorcerous Kingdom’s delegation. The women of the delegation simply stood there, attentively awaiting her reply.

When Adventures reported their success to her, it came in the form of self-aggrandising tales that stretched events out for everything they were worth. The Theocracy quietly came and went most of the time, not caring much about what anyone thought. Her military Commanders promised many things and she could only smile and express her hopes, knowing that it was all most likely in vain. Rarely, if ever, did anyone try to involve her in their efforts, nor were the results of those efforts ever so swift.

Though the Sorcerous Kingdom’s delegation expressed their desire to work together with her, it still felt odd that they did. On one hand, it felt nice to do more than simply wait and hope for good results. On the other hand, the speed at which they accomplished everything gave her the creeping feeling that she would soon be buried in even more paperwork. It was likely that they were merrily dragging her off to some bureaucratic hell.

“While your demonstration in the capital gave Us a sense of how powerful your forces are,” Draudillon said, “We expected more time to have passed before they achieved the objectives outlined by Baroness Zahradnik yesterday evening. A province is quite large, after all.”

“I can’t say that things have gone exactly according to plan, Your Majesty,” Commander Linum said. “We’ve learned many things, but there is still much to understand about our adversaries. Fortunately, we have been able to employ what we do know in our favour.”

“Still, the results are the results. By the measures of the common man, your chief of staff would be a legend in the making.”

Commander Linum’s lips twitched upwards. She was plainly pleased with the praise heaped upon her mistress.

“I believe that my lady would deny that she is anything exceptional,” she said. “That her work is only one small part of a greater effort – one that involves not just those of her soldiers and general staff, but the hundreds of officers under her and the army groups in the Sorcerous Kingdom who are all contributing their observations and insights to our campaign in the Draconic Kingdom. That she is merely the end point of all that: just a Captain carrying out her orders on the field.”

“There is clearly more to it than that,” Draudillon said. “It may be that it is as you say and what goes on results from the work of many, but it is still very much dyed in her colour. This sort of thing is difficult to fabricate and even harder to conceal.”

It was a simple matter to force superficial change with overwhelming strength. It was another matter entirely to precisely shape events to achieve lasting goals.

The Half-Elf Maid-cum-Commander quietly lowered her head and returned to her place. Draudillon turned her attention back to the rest of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s delegation.

“Speaking of difficult things,” she said, “We recall something extremely annoying being said just now. Something about the reinstallation of Blighthold’s civilian administration…”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Countess Corelyn replied. “I believe what we’ve seen is indicative of what we will find elsewhere, so ‘extremely annoying’ will become…whatever comes after ‘extremely annoying’. The invaders have culled the population according to their usefulness as livestock.”

Draudillon’s brows drew together at the revelation.

“That is not how they usually act. They are usually more…indiscriminate.”

“Based on what I’ve read of past incursions,” Countess Corelyn said, “Your Majesty should be correct. We believe that it has to do with the nature of their invasion this time. According to the records in the Royal Archives, they would simply gorge themselves and take as many as they could before leaving. Now, they are intent on conquest.”

“You mean to say they are in the process of transforming the Draconic Kingdom into a farm,” Draudillon said. “We knew that the occupation would lead to this, but We did not consider that the Beastmen had put any thought into how that would be done.”

Since they indiscriminately slaughtered her subjects in their raids, she thought it would be much the same for their current occupation – that people would be indiscriminately tossed into ‘farms’ regardless of their vocation. All that they would need to do was liberate her subjects and sort them out. Her stomach churned as she thought about what ‘usefulness as livestock’ entailed.

“So when you say ‘reinstalled’, you are speaking in the literal sense.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. The administrative staff of Blighthold is missing, at best. Almost all of the city’s guilds have been subject to the same treatment. Our forces sweeping over the province haven’t been able to locate a single Noble. Even Village Chiefs have been culled.”

“So anyone even remotely resembling a bureaucrat or clerk has been eaten.”

“Anything resembling anything they deem ‘useless’,” Countess Corelyn replied. “Which is everything aside from what is absolutely necessary to sustain a Human population. The only exception to this has been Merchants, which we believe is the result of common customs shared around the world.”

Great.

She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to cry more because she had lost so many people or because there was no one to replace them with. To be certain, it at least seemed that the Draconic Kingdom would be able to survive, but its structures of governance would take generations to restore.

“If that’s the case,” Draudillon asked, “how is order being kept in Blighthold, if at all?”

“A man named Nedim who claims to lead a certain ‘Balik Family’ is currently occupying Blighthold’s city hall. He claims to be in control of the city.”

“Oh, him. We suppose that makes sense.”

A hint of surprise traced over Countess Corelyn’s neutral mask.

“Your Majesty is familiar with the person in question?” She asked.

“Umu,” Draudillon nodded. “He is, hmm…We would say that he is the master of the syndicate that manages Blighthold’s underground, but that is not quite right. His organisation regulates the gambling dens, brothels, fighting pits, slave markets and other establishments of that sort.”

“Then to be clear: he is not some sort of criminal overlord?”

“None of the establishments that We listed are illegal in the Draconic Kingdom, so the Balik Family is generally treated in a similar fashion to an official guild…the lot of you have some fairly amusing expressions at the moment.”

Countess Corelyn and her party remained silent for several seconds. Draudillon smiled slightly: it was the first time their age and inexperience showed through their mantles of competence. She gestured to the long table along the carpet to their right.

“Please, have a seat,” she said. “We feel that this will be a long discussion. Sebas, would it trouble you to serve refreshments?”

“It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty.”

Once everyone settled down, Draudillon took a long draught of her wine and cleared her throat.

“Our understanding is that the Kingdom of Re-Estize is a country where the establishments We mentioned are often, if not always, operated by the criminal sort. Would this be the source of your discomfort?”

“…yes, Your Majesty,” Countess Corelyn replied. “Not only are we aware of what you speak of, but we have witnessed the effects of such…operations in person.”

“And with the Sorcerous Kingdom,” Draudillon said, “came the power and authority to sweep all those undesirable elements away with impunity, is that right?”

“I wouldn’t quite put it that way, but that was the end result.”

Draudillon drained her cup and set it lightly on the table at her arm. She leaned back against her throne, quietly regarding the three noblewomen seated at their table.

“The Sorcerous Kingdom is strong and prosperous,” she said. “This much is abundantly clear. With so much power and wealth, one may order the world around them according to their whims…but how many countries do you know of that can do this?”

One by one, they shook their heads. Draudillon nodded.

“That’s right. Very few, if any, countries can do whatever they wish. Most must pay a not-insignificant price for any action that they take. Thus, they must consider the costs and benefits. We believe most choose violence: they choose to aggressively subdue or remove that which they consider undesirable. This might be considered natural – those who rule cannot suffer the existence of those who defy them, after all. One may also argue that the long-term effects of those undesirable elements are detrimental to the country as a whole.

“But it does not have to be that way,” Draudillon continued. “Perhaps this fact is lost on those who live in peaceful lands, but the Draconic Kingdom is very lean. We do not have the luxury of making enemies out of potential allies and internal conflict only weakens us against the guaranteed threats that lurk just beyond our borders. Borders that you have probably by now noticed are not very defensible. In the Draconic Kingdom, humanity is united because we always have a greater enemy at our gates.”

“There must be some way to avoid such harmful compromises, Your Majesty.”

“Who says that what they do has to be harmful? Who decides they must be enemies in the first place? A ruler uses whomever can be used. Some are quite heavy-handed when it comes to that, but there are many ways through which to create allies.”

“Those ‘allies’ will corrupt your nation from within.”

Countess Corelyn’s expression hardened, her amethyst eyes glinting coldly in the torchlight. She was like one of the Theocracy’s Angels: a personification of good that was ever ready to strike down evil and injustice without a shred of mercy or remorse.

“You speak as if the world is set in stone, Lady Corelyn. Well, that may be true in various ways, but not in this one. It is far easier to influence an ally than it is to coerce an enemy – especially as individuals of our leanings.”

“So Your Majesty manoeuvres people into positions where you can more easily influence them,” Lady Gagnier said. “Then you slowly transform them into what you desire?”

“It is not so straightforward as one-sidedly changing people like some sort of transmutation spell. Consider it more along the lines of a craft. We believe that you are especially well-equipped for this sort of thing, Lady Gagnier.”

Baroness Gagnier shrunk in on herself.

“M-me?”

“Umu. In truth, We are certain that you have all done it before. You are simply blinding yourself to the full extent of your capabilities.”

“Could Your Majesty provide us with an example that we might be able to understand?”

“Examples should be plentiful, given your circumstances. Any time you wish to enact change amongst your subjects, there are common measures you take, yes? Say, a new agricultural technique or some promising vocational field that you wish to promote in your territories.”

“You mean incentivising or promoting development?” Countess Wagner asked, “Or creating value that can be recognised.”

“Those are a few ways, yes.”

“…but that’s normal stuff.”

“It is…for us,” Draudillon told them. “There is something else to it, however. Others may try – you can even tell them exactly what to do – but they will not be able to succeed as quickly or to the same degree, if at all. This may sound strange, but what people are capable of depends on what they are.

“A Farmer may watch a Blacksmith work with adamantite and do exactly as they do, but, in the end, the Farmer will not be able to do anything with an adamantite bar. So it is with a great many things, but some are easier to recognise than others. It is a bit strange: ‘common knowledge’ accepts many fantastic phenomena, yet, at the same time, it dismisses others as if our meagre understanding of the world dictates reality.”

She gauged their reactions as she spoke. A slight smile crossed her lips.

“We see that you are already aware of this,” Draudillon said. “At least to some extent. Anyway, most who do what We speak of have no idea what is going on, but it works nonetheless. The problem is that they tend to only use it for a certain ‘side’.”

“What do you mean by ‘side’, Your Majesty?” Countess Corelyn asked.

“Most commonly, it is divided into things that are ‘clean’ and things that are ‘dirty’. Or it might be more accurate to say ‘acceptable’ and ‘unacceptable’. They are limitations placed upon you by culture, morality, perception and preconception. Some things are ‘normal’, while others are ‘unthinkable’. Often literally. Since the Sorcerous Kingdom is a nation of many peoples, anyone who has employed these capabilities with other races has already crossed the line of what the majority of Humans in the Theocracy’s part of the world would consider ‘unacceptable’ or ‘unthinkable’.”

“Oh,” Countess Wagner said. “In that case, you’re right about Gagnier. She does dirty things with other races all the time. Ouf.”

Countess Wagner crumpled forward onto the table and stayed there.

“In that case,” Baroness Gagnier said. “What did you do with the Balik Family?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Draudillon replied. “I fostered what stirs the heart of any Human. Pride. Recognition. Worth. A sense of identity and belonging. ‘Normal stuff’, as the late Lady Wagner put it. None of it is hollow, of course: everything is real and precious enough to fight for.”

“Then how does the Balik Family fit into everything?” Countess Corelyn asked.

“As We said before, they are treated as a sort of unofficial guild. Guilds are regulatory bodies. The Balik Family oversees all of the establishments that We mentioned in Blighthold. We could never really come up with a decent name that would cover everything, so it was left as it was. They ensure everything operates within the bounds of the Draconic Kingdom’s laws and, like any other guild – including the Temples – they are responsible for maintaining order within their membership.

“They are especially important after major raids. The Draconic Kingdom’s economy is not so robust that it can simply shrug off the disruptions that the Beastmen cause. When times are hard, men and women both do what they must to survive. ‘Guilds’ like the Balik Family ensure that things don’t get out of hand. They serve an integral role in the cycles of predation that the Draconic Kingdom is subjected to.”

“Does that mean there’s an organisation like this in every province?”

“There is,” Draudillon nodded. “We would not be surprised if they still exist even in the cities longest occupied.”

“I see…Baroness Zahradnik seems intent on making use of them. Will there be any problems with that?”

“Seeing that Lady Zahradnik appears to be the ruthlessly pragmatic type when it comes to warfare, We are not surprised that she would ask. These groups will help to an extent, but the chains that bind them to society consist of obligations and values that keep them from straying too far from their place.”

“I will let her know, Your Majesty,” Countess Corelyn said. “Since we’ve broached this topic, could Your Majesty be so kind as to inform us of how the various institutions and organisations in the Draconic Kingdom have adapted to the ‘cycles of predation’? While much about your country appears familiar to us, it has become apparent that what lies beneath the surface of everything has resulted in something entirely foreign.”

“We would not go so far as to say things are ‘entirely foreign’ to you here,” Draudillon replied, “but We understand what you are trying to say. Generally speaking, things are ‘practical’ here. We cannot afford wasteful ceremony or hollow pretence as anything of the sort would result in liabilities that we can ill afford.”

Countess Corelyn produced a stack of blank paper and some sort of writing instrument. It looked like a fountain pen, but the design was unknown to her.

“Due to our assumptions about the Draconic Kingdom,” Lady Corelyn said, “our procedures in Blighthold were…inefficient. Interactions with the local Merchants were manageable, but Baroness Zahradnik spent a lot of time wandering around trying to puzzle out how the city was ordering itself. The survival of authority figures and even entire institutions is not guaranteed and those that are lost will be nearly impossible to replace in the short term. We would like to understand the processes through which your country will restore itself.”

“To what end, Lady Corelyn?” Ioena asked, “Is it not enough for you to interact with our Merchants? The people will sort themselves out with the assistance of the court. Recovery efforts will proceed apace.”

“What of the tasks usually handled by the administration, Lady Yorsten?” Countess Corelyn asked, “Even the Guilds have lost their support apparatus. There will be no reliable coordination or direction of effort – each citizen will be attending to their own matters. We cannot expect everything to simply put itself back together of its own accord…unless the Draconic Kingdom has unfamiliar processes that address this.”

Draudillon frowned internally as she watched Ioena bristle out of the corner of her eye. It seemed that her Prime Minister had reached the limit of her tolerance for the Sorcerous Kingdom’s representatives.

“We understand that you are trying to help, Lady Corelyn,” Draudillon said, “but matters of civilian administration are the purview of Our government. Baroness Zahradnik has been entrusted with a certain amount of authority out of necessity, but the solution to the problems that you are currently attempting to address is not beyond the capabilities of our people. We will assemble a team from the capital to deliver to Blighthold…they can be delivered, yes?”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Countess Corelyn lowered her head. “We have a transport prepared to be used at your convenience for this purpose. I apologise for overstepping my bounds; please forgive me for my indiscretion.”

Draudillon nodded quietly and they moved on to the next topic in Countess Corelyn’s report. Her eyes went from the trio from the Sorcerous Kingdom to Ioena before she let out a quiet sigh. For all of their excellence, they were ultimately still young.

Educated, skilled, eager and inexperienced. I suppose I’ll be playing the mother for the foreseeable future.

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