Valkyrie's Shadow

Chapter 13

“What do you think?”

Nonna turned from where she was standing in the middle of the Goblin encampment. The crimson points of her eyes came to rest on Ludmila, who had just returned from another sweep of the surroundings.

“Of what are you referring to?” Nonna asked.

Ludmila gestured loosely over the camp around them.

“The camp has this whole spooky feeling to it now, doesn’t it?” Ludmila smiled, “I thought that this sort of atmosphere might make you feel right at home.”

“You Humans have strange ideas about Undead preferences,” the Elder Lich snorted. “A blasted, empty cluster of tents in the middle of nowhere is hardly the image of an ideal domicile.”

Ludmila frowned. That was where people usually found Undead, didn’t they? Lonely battlefields where unmarked graves lay beneath rolling mists. Haunted ruins hidden away from the living. Dungeons and labyrinths steeped in darkness. At least that’s where one usually found the Undead. Why would they frequent those sorts of places if they didn’t like them? It wasn’t as if they couldn’t go elsewhere if they did not. She thought she had done a good job of it, as well.

There were still a few hours until dawn when the last Hobgoblin fell, and Ludmila set about ensuring that no sign of the encampment’s demise could be recognized from a distance. Fires were stamped out, burnt tents and supplies were cleaned up, and the rest was reorganized to give it an undamaged appearance.

Rather than stew over the Hobgoblin commander's impression of her as one of the Undead, she decided that playing along with the fears surrounding the Undead would suit her purposes just as well, if not better. It was a notion she could reinforce more easily than some idea that there were Humans ready to slay any intruders the moment they strayed too far north: she was only one Human, but she had plenty of one hundred per cent genuine Undead.

The corpses of the Demihumans slain in their sleep were replaced by Zombies, and she arranged the Squire Zombies in a way that made things still look active from afar. A single Death Knight was left in the camp and loosely disguised as a Bugbear. The other three were sent to switch places with the last of her Death Knights that had not yet raised any Squire Zombies.

Overall, she thought that any approaching Goblins from the south would not expect anything until they came inside, and then it would be too late. Just in case, she assigned her two Shadow Demons to eliminate anyone that attempted to flee back the way they came. Keeping the invading Goblin army in the dark about what was going on would buy her at least a few days where she could enact sabotage with the Shadow Demons, reevaluate her plans and explore potential options. In the worst-case scenario, a scout might escape and report that the encampment had been haunted, but a suitable response on the Hobgoblins’ part would still take time.

At least she thought it looked haunted – just the sort of thing one might expect out of a piece of land frequented by the Undead. Nonna, however, begged to differ. Ludmila hadn’t expected that her thoughts on the matter would be that far off. She thought that Lady Shalltear’s home would have at least some Undead ‘flavour’ to it as well, but, based on Nonna's response, it appeared that she had erred in her assumptions. Maybe it was just a normal manor surrounded by a nice, pastoral vista.

After making a few last-minute checks, Ludmila returned back up to the pass with Nonna, leaving the hundreds of Undead to ‘haunt’ the vanquished encampment. When they reached the top of the pass, a Bone Vulture flew down to land before them with a roll of parchment in its beak. She reached out to retrieve it, unfurling the paper and frowning down at its contents.

“Lady Shalltear will be here in the morning,” she murmured, “but it doesn’t say why. Take your time coming back if you need to regenerate mana, Nonna: I will be going on ahead.”

Ludmila darted off down the other side of the pass. Two hours later, she walked up the village lane and entered her manor.

“Welcome back, my lady,” Lluluvien said. “I’ve taken the liberty of drawing a bath for you. A change of clothing is being prepared, as well.”

“I’ve been out there for so long that the Hobgoblins are starting to mistake me for one of the Undead,” Ludmila said as she started to work off the buckles of her armour. “How have things been going back here?”

“The village is mostly the same,” Lluluvien replied as she set up a divider made out of thin wooden panels to block the view from the hall, “though Smith Kovalev has become curious about all this equipment that’s returning from the border.”

“Oh,” she looked up, “what did he have to say about it?”

“He admires the craftsmanship, my lady, but he’s unfamiliar with the style. It’s not Human or Elvish or even any of the Demihuman work that he’s seen. His best guess is that it’s vaguely Dwarven, but there are many notable differences.”

Dwarven? The Dwarf Kingdom in the Azerlisia Mountains was far too removed from the Abelion Wilderness to have any contact with the Demihumans there. Were there other Dwarves in the region? She couldn’t imagine that the Azerlisia Dwarves were the only Dwarves, yet she had never heard of any such thing near her own little corner of the world. It would certainly explain who they got their equipment from, but the how of it was still a mystery. Tribal Demihumans were not much for any manner of commerce, though Florine and Liane had recently made a small project out of the possibility.

“Was there anything else?” Ludmila asked as she discarded the last of her garments.

“On the village end, no,” Lluluvien replied. “Everyone is staying within their respective fortifications, except for the Lizardmen, I suppose. They’re still working to fashion their new homes. On the, um, war side, I’ve already sent out the Shadow Demons with their gifts…would it be right to call it a war, my lady?”

“I have a feeling that there will be far more casualties in this conflict than all of the ‘wars’ fought between Re-Estize and Baharuth combined – save for the one this year, of course. If they can call all those past years a war, then I suppose we might call what we are having here a war as well. Have the new Shadow Demons given you any trouble?”

“Not at all, my lady,” Lluluvien smiled. “They always seem very happy to work with me and my sister. It’s quite a pleasant experience, and the results are very gratifying.”

“Is that so?” Ludmila said as she dipped a toe into the basin of hot water prepared for her, “I am glad you are all getting along then. How soon until you think that your work will start to strain these Goblin camps?”

Finding the water amenable, Ludmila slipped into the basin. She closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation and awaited Lluluvien’s response.

“Hm…well,” Lluluvien said after a few moments, “we’re starting with random locations at higher elevations, whenever a decent opportunity presents itself. There are Goblins in each camp that send supplies to the next camp three times a day, and a good fire might destroy two or three days’ worth of food. What’s left to be seen is how they react to it.”

That was indeed the question. They weren’t sure how quickly the Goblin army could make up for their lost supplies – only that they relied on regular replenishment from previous camps. The plan was to attack one stockpile, then move on to others until the destroyed ones were nearly replenished, then attack them again. If their resources were already stretched thin, the situation would quickly become dire. If they had huge stockpiles being delivered from wherever they came from, they could simply increase the number of Goblins moving supplies to counteract the disruptions.

“Ah, speaking of reactions,” Ludmila said, “I had one of the Shadow Demons attack a supply stockpile. They were able to save a good amount of their supplies by moving them away in time, so we will have to be more liberal with our usage of Alchemist’s Fire to ensure supplies are thoroughly destroyed.”

“I see…I’ll update them when they come in from their first set of attacks. Should we use two arrows or three from now on?”

“Two for now. We should have vials of the stuff ready in a day or two for pickup, so there will be at least that many to spare. Make sure they get it on as much of those supplies as possible, rather than just a single spot.”

“It will be done, my lady.”

The gleam in Lluluvien’s flecked granite eyes gave Ludmila pause.

“You seem quite excited about all this yourself,” she noted.

“The both of us are, my lady,” Lluluvien replied. “When we first started doing this sort of thing over in Fassett County, I thought the feeling might be like you suggested: the chance to help see House Fassett finally get their comeuppance. As the days went by, however, we saw what you were trying to do and our desire for vengeance just seemed…petty by comparison.”

“Even with what little I know of what the Fassetts subjected your family to,” Ludmila looked up at Lluluvien with a furrow on her brow, “I would not call your desire to play a part in their fall ‘petty’.”

“We know you wouldn’t, my lady,” Lluluvien replied, “but we consider it as such all the same. As maids, we see much of what goes on in a noble household – we’re exposed to the life and work and thoughts that outsiders can only imagine or speculate upon.”

Lluluvien finished checking over Ludmila’s dress, laying it over her bed and returning to pick up a sponge from beside the basin.

“Did anyone ever tell you how long we were slaves of House Fassett, my lady?”

“I have not asked anyone about it, actually.”

“We have mentioned this before,” Lluluvien squeezed the sponge tightly in her fist, “but my sister and I were born into slavery. We’re turning seventy-eight this autumn. My mother…I’ve heard from the Fassetts that she was with them since before they became a cadet branch of their old family. A-anyways, what’s important is that we’ve seen several generations of the Fassetts and their ilk. For all of our lives, we’ve seen how greedy, petty and small nobles can be.”

Ludmila wondered how the Linum sisters saw her when they first entered her household, and what they thought of her rigid views in the time leading up to their journey to Fassett County. While she never thought herself wrong for having them – she still held onto them, in fact – she quickly came to understand that the world that she had been raised to expect was far more varied and nuanced in reality. Even now, she heavily relied on her friends for their knowledge and understanding of life beyond the borders of her demesne.

“That is why we swore our family to your service, my lady,” Lluluvien continued. “It wasn’t only because you showed us charity, or because you rescued our mother, or because you helped put an end to the house that visited all of its evils upon us. It was because, after being mired for what amounts to a Human lifetime with some of the worst of what humanity has to offer, we understand what you represent: a life of honoured service, in pursuit of goals high above that of petty desire and selfish gain. When measured against your actions and the lives that have turned for the better as a result, our lust for personal vengeance does feel petty indeed.

“In the end, this small desire to bring vengeance upon a small and petty noble house was only something that lashed out against the past and spoke nothing of our future. No matter how wealthy or powerful, we have seen the lives of people who pursue their small, petty paths – it is infinitely better to serve in a place where our legacy will create a future for many.”

The crackle of the fire under the kettle was the only thing that accompanied the awkward silence that followed. Ludmila shifted slightly in the basin: she really wasn’t suited for having these heartfelt outpourings directed at her.

“One day I will figure out what it is that makes you all place me on such impossibly lofty pedestals,” she muttered.

A knock issued from the door, and the both of them froze. They had become engrossed in their conversation, and not a step of progress in getting ready for Lady Shalltear’s impending visit had been made since then. Ludmila silently motioned for Lluluvien to answer the door and started to scrub herself as she sat in a basin of now-lukewarm water.

“Welcome, Lady Shalltear,” Lluluvien’s greeting floated over the divider.

“Is Lady Zahradnik in yet?” Lady Shalltear asked.

“Yes, my lady,” Lluluvien answered. “She’s just arrived from the border, so…”

Lluluvien’s voice trailed off. The silken sound of Lady Shalltear’s gown came closer, and Ludmila could see her shadow, cast by the light from the window, stretching from the hall.

“Ludmila?” Her liege’s voice chimed through the opening.

“You have my apologies, my lady,” Ludmila replied as she pressed herself to the edge of the basin, “I’ll be out in a few minutes…in the meantime, please feel free to entertain yourself with something in the hall…”

“I believe that there’s entertainment aplenty back here…”

Ludmila could hear the teasing smile through her liege’s silvery voice. She stood up and glanced about for her towel amidst the dripping sound of water. Lady Shalltear’s silhouette drew closer yet again, then stopped.

“Uwah…did Yuri teach you that look as a part of your maid training?” Lady Shalltear’s voice was no longer directed through the opening, “I can feel her adjusting her spectacles all the way in E-Rantel.”

Lady Shalltear’s shadow receded just as Ludmila located her towel. Her liege’s voice drifted through the opening again in amused tones.

“Please do take your time, Ludmila,” she said. “There’s no need for us to be hasty.”

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