Valkyrie's Shadow

Chapter 7

“Why’re we goin’ to the house bein’ run by a Noble instead of the other one? Should be easier if we don’t have to deal with a Noble, yeah?”

“Because both houses are being run by Nobles.”

The armsmen looked up from their chatter as Countess Beaumont emerged from the manor’s front entrance with an answer to their question.

“Simply because a Noble scion joins another household doesn’t mean that they forget their upbringing,” the Countess said. “James Tempe is the third son of Count Tempe and has served as House Lowre’s Butler for twenty-five years. With him managing House Lowre on the infant Count Lowre’s behalf, it would be no different than facing off against the late Counte Lowre himself. Baroness Illerand, on the other hand, is in a similar situation as myself.”

Lady Beaumont walked out onto the cobblestones, sheltered from the drizzle by a blue parasol held aloft by Claire. As far as urban carriages went, it was pretty standard: a four-seater cabin that sat high over the road with footholds for a pair of footmen in the rear. Decorations were minimal and a space had been to hang identifying plaques on either side of the vehicle. One bearing House Beaumont’s per fess engrailed argent and azure with its single green mountain top occupied both sides.

After walking around the carriage twice, the young noblewoman nodded in satisfaction.

“This will be sufficient for this weather,” she said.

“It looks different depending on the weather?” Reed asked.

“Of course, Mister Reed,” Lady Beaumont smiled pleasantly. “I’m sure you’ll be positively delighted with the pageantry come spring.”

It appeared that Lady Beaumont had forgotten who she was talking to. Reed seemed like an average Ranger, and the average Ranger had next to no appreciation for anything a city had to offer, never mind its ‘pageantry’. Liam cleared his throat.

“Did you take care of that security stuff we talked about?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Reed said. “Sentries are stationed everywhere you said they needed to be. I don’t think we need so many back in the gardens anymore, though. Half of Olin’s men were gone last I checked.”

“Where did they go?”

“Beats the hell out of me,” the woodsman shrugged. “Maybe they bullied their way into an inn somewhere.”

It sounded like something they would do. Between working with Countess Beaumont and writing his reports to the Ministry of Transportation, Liam barely had time to speak with Olin. Since Lady Beaumont was more than capable and all too happy to take care of most of his questions, he figured there was no need to impose on the Eight Fingers executive. Olin still had all of his other work to do and the Eight Fingers operated according to Lady Albedo’s orders.

“I’ll catch up with him later,” Liam said. “Let’s get started on this negotiation stuff.”

Liam helped Lady Beaumont and Claire into the carriage before mounting one of the footholds in the rear. Reed looked up at him with a grin as they started to move.

“How’s the view?” He asked.

“It’s like a mobile lookout, I guess,” Liam answered. “I saw footmen doing this all the time back when I was younger; I never thought I’d be doing it one day.”

“Every time I saw one of these things rolling down the highway,” Reed said, “I always thought the guys standing up there would be the first to die in an ambush. They’d have three or four arrows in ‘em before anyone knew they were under attack.”

The thought made him feel exposed – especially considering he had been dressed up in a footman’s suit.

“Did you ambush any carriages while working for the Eight Fingers?”

“Naw,” the woodsman waved his hand dismissively. “People who use carriages have money. People like us didn’t get so much as a whiff.”

“Makes sense,” Liam said.

A pair of woodsmen opened the estate’s gate, standing around awkwardly as the carriage rolled out onto the street. Fortunately, Liam didn’t spot any spectators in their surroundings. Reed and his men were a long way off from passing themselves as proper armsmen and getting them to an acceptable standard was near the bottom of Countess Beaumont’s priority list. Once they returned to Beaumont County, they would have all the time in the world to receive the appropriate training.

It took less than two minutes to reach their destination: a manor roughly half the size of the one that they left. Rather than a hedge, it had a two-metre-high brick wall shared with another manor facing the opposite direction. The footmen at the gate warily eyed the carriage’s approach – probably because it was being escorted by what most would consider armed ruffians. They didn’t act on the impression, however, as they also recognised the sigil hanging on the side of the carriage. Liam hopped onto the road and approached the footmen.

“Countess Beaumont has arrived to see Baroness Illerand,” he told them.

The footman glanced at the carriage behind him. He wondered if they were the same men who chased away Reed’s man earlier that morning.

“Is there a problem?” Liam asked.

“No, no problem,” one of the footmen answered. “Give us a moment while we inform our lady of your arrival.”

“First you attack the man who came calling ahead,” Liam frowned, “and then you force my lady to wait outside in the rain. House Beaumont has long been friends with House Illreand…or has our relationship recently changed?”

The footmen rushed to open the gate, leading the carriage into a covered parking spot to the side of the manor entrance. Countess Beaumont and Claire were escorted to the manor’s drawing room along with Liam. There, they were made to wait until a young noblewoman with auburn hair and freckled cheeks appeared, flanked by two taller maids.

“Welcome, Countess Beaumont,” she said. “I wasn’t aware that you had returned to the city.”

“Is that why the man I sent to call ahead was the recipient of such rude treatment?”

Lady Illerand went to sit beside Lady Beaumont, taking the Countess’ hands in hers.

“For that,” she said, “you have my most sincere apologies, Beaumont. Please understand that my men erred on the side of caution. Ever since the fire, the commonfolk have flooded the streets! I haven’t dared set foot outside for fear of my life since then.”

They’ve flooded the streets because their houses burned down…

Liam’s brow furrowed at the fearful tremor in Baroness Illerand’s voice. Was that why the lanes of the upper city were so lifeless?

“The streets seemed safe enough to me when I arrived in the city,” Countess Beaumont said.

“You’ve always been one of the boldest among us, Beaumont,” Lady Illerand said. “I would surely die if one of those vagrants came within fifty metres of me.”

“I doubt you would die so easily, Illerand,” Lady Beaumont said.

The clatter of a tea set sounded from the hallway. A third Maid rolled trays of refreshments and pastries into the room. The aroma of a rich tea filled the air as the Maid poured out the two noblewomen’s beverages. As she did so, Lady Beaumont motioned to Claire, who produced a large, unmarked clay jar.

“I’ve brought the usual,” the Countess said. “Though I suppose it’s hardly the time for gifts with recent events casting their shadow over us.”

“Honey from Beaumont is always a welcome treat,” Lady Illerand smiled as she gestured for one of her maids to receive the gift. “It’s quite unlike the orchard imports from the south. Shall I take this as a sign that you’ve done well since departing the city?”

“As much as I would like to say so,” Lady Beaumont said, “I’ve only just begun picking up where my lord father left off. Which brings us to the reason why I came calling. I heard the most dreadful rumours of a disastrous harvest across the north while I was delivering the rent to Re-Blumrushur. Are things truly as bad as they say?”

“I don’t know,” Lady Illerand admitted, “but Lord Reginald advised us to shut our granaries in preparation for a lean winter.”

“What of your other necessities? Fuel, for instance…”

“Fuel?” The Baroness frowned, “Our copses have always been sufficient for our needs.”

“Do you mean to say you’ve already stockpiled wood for the extended winter?”

“I-I don’t know! Mister Danault always took care of this sort of thing…”

“Your Butler retired to inherit his title last spring.”

An uncomfortable silence ensued. Lady Illerand fidgeted in her seat, unwilling to look the Countess in the eye. The Countess sighed.

“Have you done any work on House Illerand’s accounts?” She asked.

“I don’t like working on the accounts,” the younger noblewoman pouted. “Mother always scolded me when my numbers were wrong.”

Is that a valid excuse to avoid work?

Liam also didn’t like it when he did badly on tests, but it wasn’t as if they’d go away if he avoided them.

“I’m sure you’ll learn to like them,” Lady Beaumont reached out to pat Lady Illerand on the shoulder. “Now that you’re the head of House Illerand, you’ll be able to realise tangible results from your work. How about I help you get started?”

“Would you?” Lady Illerand visibly brightened, “I would utterly adore it if you did!”

So much for needing to pressure her into a deal.

Now that Countess Beaumont was doing her friend a favour, they likely didn’t need to worry about securing a trade deal. Unfortunately, this new method created further delays in their return to Beaumont County.

“Have your magistrates delivered their autumn reports?” Countess Beaumont asked.

“I’m not sure,” Baroness Illerand answered. “If they’ve come in, they should be in my office.”

“We should look for them right away,” Lady Beaumont said. “Nothing can be accomplished without them.”

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“How about we have our lunch first?” Lady Illerand said, “The Cook is already getting everything prepared.”

“That means we have time to conduct our search for your reports,” the Countess told her. “We can go over the details during lunch.”

Baroness Illerand didn’t seem very pleased at the suggestion, tugging on one of her curls with a petulant expression. Countess Beaumont ignored her protests as she pulled the younger noblewoman to her feet.

“What should I tell Mister Reed, my lady?” Liam asked.

“Hmm…if we find what we’re looking for, we’ll be here for the rest of the day. If that’s the case, Mister Reed and his men can accompany Claire for the other thing we discussed.”

“Very good, my lady.”

Liam bowed to the two noblewomen before excusing himself. He had been waiting for an opportunity to observe more of the city during the day. What he had witnessed earlier that morning didn’t look very promising for Re-Blumrushur’s near future.

“What’s the word?” Reed asked after Liam emerged from the manor.

“Lady Beaumont will be staying with Lady Illerand for most of the day,” Liam answered. “She asked us to handle some other business while she’s here.”

“I don’t think I can do this,” Claire said.

“Why not?” Liam frowned, “Isn’t this something you’re familiar with?”

“What’re we doing?” Reed asked.

“Hiring household staff,” Liam answered. “Specifically, people for the kitchen. Lady Beaumont got sick of eating roasted meat and fiddlehead soup every day.”

“Hey,” Reed said, “that’s a perfectly good meal.”

“For woodsmen, maybe,” Claire said. “I admit I enjoy the nuts and berries that your men somehow always manage to find, but the rest can’t possibly be considered food for an aristocrat’s table. Imagine the scandal if Lady Beaumont needs to entertain guests and we serve them some weeds you foraged from the riverbank.”

Lady Zahradnik and her friends probably wouldn’t mind eating weeds foraged from a riverbank, but that was mostly due to Lady Zahradnik’s influence. Most aristocrats divided their meals into two categories: common fare that was served at the feasts held for their itinerant courts, and the high cuisine that accompanied the exclusive business of society’s elites. Given the state of the city, Liam figured that finding any food at all would be hard enough, but the Countess insisted that finding kitchen staff was absolutely necessary.

“So what’s the problem?” Liam asked as he helped Claire into the carriage, “Most of the places where Cooks usually work have burnt down. We shouldn’t have much trouble finding people.”

Claire motioned for Liam to join her. Though he shut the door behind him, she still leaned forward to speak in a low voice.

“Because I haven’t hired anyone before! How would I know what to look for in a Cook? What if I get the wrong person?”

“I think it’d be pretty obvious if they couldn’t make food suitable for a restaurant,” Liam said, “besides, you should know a few things after working at that tavern.”

“Not really,” Claire muttered. “That proprietor only hired us for our looks. We can’t even test anyone because there’s no food to test them with!”

“We have salted venison and ferns,” Liam noted.

The Maid let out a pitiful whimper. Liam had to admit that hiring kitchen staff was turning out to be an unprecedented challenge. It stood to reason that the widespread destruction caused by the fire put many capable Cooks out of work, but how would they find them? They probably wouldn’t be squatting in the scorched ruins of their restaurants, waiting for someone to save them from certain doom. Beyond that, neither Liam nor any other member of Countess Beaumont’s entourage had been to Re-Blumrushur before.

“Olin could probably help us out,” Liam said. “He should know plenty of people…or at least his people should.”

Liam opened the window to speak with Reed.

“Do you have any idea where Olin is?”

“Uh…I overheard his men talkin’ about a new base on the waterfront,” Reed replied, “but I got no idea what part of the waterfront.”

“We were just at the northern half,” Liam said, “I didn’t see any of Olin’s men in that mess. Oh, take those plaques off before we reach the gatehouse.”

“You got it. Should we leave anyone here?”

Why are we travelling so conspicuously anyway?

“Most of the men should stay,” Liam said. “We’ll leave the carriage here, too. If the waterfront is as crazy as it was earlier, we’ll be better off walking and not drawing any attention to ourselves.”

In the end, Reed and three of his men accompanied them to the lower city gate. The armsmen guarding the gatehouse questioned whether they truly wanted to enter the lower city on foot, but did nothing to stop them from passing. On the other side of the gate, Liam spotted several people taking note of their exit.

“Watch out for pickpockets,” Liam said.

“Shouldn’t Olin be on top of that?” Reed asked.

“I doubt it’s organised,” Liam answered, “these people are just getting desperate.”

It wasn’t the only sign of desperation in the city. Once they left the protection of the upper city gatehouse, the streetscape drastically changed. Everywhere he looked, both men and women were offering up anything that might be valuable in exchange for food and fabric. A swarm of citizens converged on Claire when a gust of wind exposed the uniform under her mantle.

“Kind miss, please sell me some bread!”

“Spare some cloth, my baby is freezing!”

“Does your lord have any work for us?”

There was a dismal chance for a positive response to the last question, even in times of plenty. Most rural territories saw minimal activity in the winter and tenants focused on their cottage crafts.

Claire retreated before the advancing wall of humanity, tripping over her mantle to fall to the cobblestones. Reed struggled to make his voice heard over the din while Liam helped the Maid back to her feet. In front of them, the woodsmen were helpless before the press of the growing crowd.

They’re not strong enough for this. They don’t have the right weapons, either.

His experience with the armsmen of the Southern Holy Kingdom had led him to overestimate the capabilities of Reed’s men. Additionally, the woodsmen were Rangers specialised in ranged combat, so he doubted that they could ever act in the same capacity as Fighters who could reliably hold the line. It took them several minutes to escape back to the upper city gatehouse, where the sentries posted stepped forward in alarm at the sobbing figure of Claire.

“What in the gods’ names happened?” The captain asked as he rushed out of the gatehouse.

“Some of the citizens decided we could help them somehow,” Liam said. “I can’t say I’ve ever been nearly trampled by people asking for work.”

“Those degenerate bastards!” The captain spat, “So it’s finally come to this, then…”

“An official at the harbour mentioned that House Blumrush is bringing food in from the surrounding territories,” Liam said. “Shouldn’t the people be a bit calmer if they knew it was coming?”

“Informing them of the deliveries would cause more harm than good,” the captain replied. “If they’re willing to mob this poor woman over the possibility of securing employment, can you imagine what will happen if they’re aware of an incoming shipment of food? It’s best to deal with such situations swiftly and with more force than they can prepare for on short notice.”

Given what had just happened, it was difficult to argue against his reasoning. Liam could empathise with the people’s plight, but that empathy meant nothing in the face of a desperate mob.

They returned to the Beaumont estate, giving Claire the opportunity to clean herself up. Liam considered their options as he changed into his regular equipment.

“I think it would be better if I went alone,” he said. “Things are getting worse faster than I thought they would.”

“They sure are,” Reed said as he shook the rain out of his mantle, “but how are you going to find who we need in this mess?”

“Well, we were going to see Olin first,” Liam replied. “It’s hard to imagine that he can’t find the right people. Claire can host interviews in the manor – I doubt she’s willing to leave the upper city anytime soon anyways.”

“Alright, I’ll let her know.”

Liam wasted no time returning to the lower city, concealing his presence as he walked past the masses of humanity huddled along the streets. One of the smaller cities in Re-Estize, Re-Blumrushur was only half again as large as E-Rantel, making it relatively easy to navigate. The castle and noble district occupied a hill tucked into the elbow of the Blumrush River, forming the ‘upper city’ with its protective curtain wall. An enclosed harbour reserved for the use of House Blumrush and its allies divided the city’s waterfront into a northern and southern wharf.

Reaching the southern wharf took mere minutes and Liam saw signs of Eight Fingers activity well before he reached the river. Gangs of labourers were hard at work tearing down the remains of ruined buildings while Olin’s men maintained a bored-looking watch over the surroundings. Unlike the incident with Claire, none of the cityfolk nearby dared to cross the empty space between the syndicate-controlled area and the rest of Re-Blumrushur.

They said something about a new base, but isn’t this too conspicuous?

It looked like the entire waterfront was being cleared out. As far as he knew, Nobles didn’t like giving up control of any amount of land. Having the Eight Fingers openly take over a big chunk of the city should have been intolerable.

After investigating the grounds, Liam made his way to a striped blue pavilion raised on the wharf. He could see Olin speaking to someone within, but was stopped by a lanky blonde man who kept a hand on the dagger tucked into his belt.

“That’s far enough, kid,” the man said.

“I’m here to see Olin,” Liam told him.

“Yeah, you and everyone else in the city,” a sneer formed under the man’s thin moustache. “Get out of here before I dump your corpse into the river.”

Liam leaned to one side, hoping to catch Olin’s attention. The man moved to block his line of sight, drawing his dagger at the same time. Liam’s hand shot forward, blocking the draw and crushing the man’s wrist at the same time.

Dozens of gazes fixed upon them as the man’s agonised wails filled the air. The nearest sentry drew his sidearm and stomped over.

“The hell is going on here…hm? Aren’t you–”

“His wrist suddenly broke,” Liam said, gesturing to the man clutching his arm as he knelt on the street. “He should get it fixed at the temple.”

“Uh, right. You, get movin’.”

The man offered no protest, the pain erasing his previous belligerence. He rose and scurried away, eventually disappearing behind the piles of debris lining the streets.

“You here to see Olin?” The sentry asked.

“Yeah,” Liam answered. “You guys got something big going on here. Someone mentioned a new base.”

A proud smile appeared on the sentry’s face.

“More than a base,” he said. “We’re raisin’ a whole damn fortress of vice. Drinkin’, gamblin’, girls – it’ll be grand.”

“House Blumrush is letting you build a casino? I thought gambling establishments were illegal in Re-Estize.”

“Maybe so, but the law doesn’t matter if no one enforces it. House Blumrush’s cut is big enough that they’re more than happy to look the other way.”

“Huh. Will there be an inn and restaurant, as well?”

The sentry’s grin grew wider.

“More than that. It’ll be a whole damn set of hotels with room and dining for every sort. Things are really lookin’ up for us.”

Liam supposed it was something underworld organisations saw as a measure of success. Ironically, the Eight Fingers managed it through bribery and corruption while the family bosses in the Draconic Kingdom did so with their Queen’s blessing. Their entire country benefited from those relationships while the Eight Finger continually undermined their ‘host’ instead.

Olin was speaking with an unknown woman when Liam entered the pavilion. The two stopped speaking the moment they noted his presence.

“Liam,” Olin rose to his feet.

“Who’s this lady?” Liam asked.

“Marla,” Olin answered. “Local officer in charge of gambling and prostitution. Marla, this is Liam. He’s…an agent of our superior.”

The woman – who had been eyeing him with a look he didn’t much like – immediately shot to her feet.

“I-It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Liam!”

“Uh-huh. Looks like you’re about to make it big here.”

“You’re not wrong,” Olin nodded. “Everything’s come together to create the perfect opportunity. Our mistress should be pleased with our progress.”

Liam couldn’t recall anything about building hotels and casinos in his briefing. Then again, they only told him what he needed to know.

“I’ll include your achievements here in my next report,” Liam said, “but I can’t promise how my superiors will react. How long until this new base of yours is operational?”

“We already have temporary facilities running,” Olin said. “We’ll have our first permanent buildings furnished within a few weeks. We’ve got an entire city desperate for work and food, so everything’s coming up fast.”

“How are you getting around Lord Reginald’s mandates?” Liam asked.

“You mean for imports? Most of the Nobles around here owe us massive debts. All I have to do was send my men out to collect.”

Would that interfere with Countess Beaumont’s work? He had no idea who she planned to deal with and who the Eight Fingers were extracting resources from…or was it simply another challenge that Countess Beaumont needed to overcome?

“Anyways,” Olin said, “there something I can do for you?”

“House Beaumont needs kitchen staff,” Liam replied. “I figured they’d all be coming to you.”

“You’re not wrong. We’ve got a kitchen set up for the workers downriver. Pick out whoever you like – we’ve got hundreds more trying to get in.”

Well, that was easy.

“Thanks, Olin,” Liam said. “By the way…have you learned anything more about the fire?”

“Not at all,” Olin replied. “I’ve been too busy with this project here to look into it. Not that it matters – it’s all behind us now.”

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