Chapter 27
Rys felt claustrophobic for the next few days. Vallis recovered within hours, but found more than a few excuses to spend half the day in his office. That drew Tyrisa in every hour or two, as well as both duchesses and their staff. Naturally, Mina dropped down from the ducts to sit in his lap and update him whenever she found the time.
His office was deliberately kept cozy. The invasion of bureaucracy stretched the definition of the word.
By day three, he lost his temper and tossed everyone out. Fara took this opportunity to seize the couches for the day. She might not have been fully clothed, and there definitely had been a mess to clean up.
Vallis had largely returned to normal by that point, however. Her business with Port Mayfield was finalized by sending and with the assistance of Leth.
Perhaps it had been cheating to send an agent of infernal chaos to wring the merchants dry, but Rys felt no remorse. More than a few people would have known about the attempt on Vallis’s life. They’d known better than to withhold information in the future.
Closer to home, Mina wrapped up her little operation.
“Auntie Nia confirmed Sarae’s story,” she told him later that night. “Or at least, she confirmed enough of it. I still smell a rat, but I can’t pursue it. The worst part is that there’s still something wrong with the Garrote Clan network. Nia got cutoff as well when the ambush hit, which confirms who our enemy is.”
“So there is a traitor in your midst,” Grigor said.
The three of them sat in a bar on the ground floor. Or at least, it looked like a bar. Nobody served drinks here, and the only people who ever came here were Rys, Grigor, and Fred. Plus whoever they invited.
No doubt the palace staff thought that this place was Rys’s personal parlor and steered clear. Tonight, Mina joined them.
Rys and Grigor nursed fingers of Kinadain whiskey, while Mina restrained herself to green tea and stealing sips from Rys’s glass whenever she felt like it.
“Given Sarae seemed genuinely blindsided I suspected her to be working against us, I think traitor is the right word now,” Mina said bitterly. “Whoever is helping Avolar isn’t supporting the clan.”
“Where is Sarae now? She didn’t stop by to bother me today,” Rys asked.
“I let her return to the village.” Mina winced at his look. “Auntie Nia and I talked it out. She agreed to keep Sarae under watch. Officially, she’s now covered by the village’s convalescence and is required to stay put.”
“I’ll leave it to you, then.”
“And what are you up to tomorrow? Alsia’s been all aflutter about this whole pregnancy thing, but I doubt you’re planning a party for that.” The fox leered at him.
“The assassination attempt was a reminder that I can’t ignore every problem. Alsia has been facing more problems than she can handle herself when it comes to the Kinadain elders. I’ll apply a little charm to them.” Rys winked.
“Will this charm involve murdering their elite warriors and replacing all the elders that oppose you? Or do you only pull that trick once?”
Grigor snorted. Rys rolled his eyes.
“Alsia did most of that,” he corrected.
“Really? Wow. Ice cold.” Mina stole some of his whiskey, then filled his glass. “Maybe she should drink this stuff. She wouldn’t be cold ever again.”
“Get some sleep, Mina.” Rys stood up and patted his spymaster on the back.
The motion knocked her off the stool, and she flailed about on the floor for a moment. Her tails batted against his legs.
Mina stared up at him, cheeks flushed, and arms raised like the canine she almost was.
“Um, I might need some help,” she said.
Rys carried Mina to one of the ducts, where a few imps appeared to carry her back to bed. They were used to this, he imagined. Then he returned to his drinks with Grigor, and his thoughts.
Tomorrow, he needed to assist Alsia with her meet-and-greet with the Kinadain elders.
With war visible on the horizon, both Maria and Alsia had been drumming up support within their duchies.
Maria had the easier time of it. The last few months had been peaceful for the region. Low taxes, a bountiful harvest, and renewed profits for the merchants meant that support was high for the new kingdom.
The locals had seen what the alternative was, and they hadn’t liked it. Maria had said that Anceston and central Kavolara had seen off many pretenders who thought they could claim it. Compagnon had come within a hair’s breadth of succeeding.
Rys knew that if he misstepped, they’d turn on him.
But that was nothing new. He had brought back cities and regions from outright rebellion. Duar and Malusian had used him to clean up the messes of the Infernal Empire countless times. Treading the fine line between increasing his power and keeping the populace happy was almost nostalgic for him.
Unfortunately, the Kinadain felt differently. Alsia had risen to power from the ashes of rampant corruption. Her position was strong, due to Rys’s backing, but her influence over the rest of her people waxed and waned.
When Rys had dealt with the elders before Alsia during his duel with Barul, he had sorely underestimated the size of the Kinadain presence. Even Maria had been unaware just how many there were.
The dains littered the mountains of Kavolara, hidden in every nook and cranny available. In that sense, Rys found them familiar.
If he rode out along a major road, he’d find innumerable villages. They popped up like weeds wherever there was space to grow crops, and sometimes even where there wasn’t. Fifty people there, a hundred here, maybe a few dozen over the hill.
It all added up, but it was difficult to understand the sheer size of the population from the villages. Rys’s knowledge of demography from the Empire helped him somewhat, but Kavolara wasn’t a highly developed nation with a sprawling railrider network and entire cities dedicated to industry.
He suspected that over ninety percent of the region’s population lived in those villages. The same applied to the Kinadain, except that their larger settlements were smaller and rarer.
Alsia collectively referred to the “dains” when she spoke about the Kinadain. Rys’s translation gift had translated that to “tribe” at first, but he had thought it was closer to a settlement.
Naturally, he had been wrong and his translation gift right. A dain could consist of thousands of Kinadain spread across the mountains. Individual villages looked to the elders and Sages of their dain for leadership, but otherwise took care of themselves.
And there were far more dains than Rys had expected. This little meeting that Alsia had arranged was proof of that.
As he walked past the boundaries of the palace, he saw several dozen Kinadain gathered in an open field. The only furnishings present were long tables covered in platters of food. Large kegs were scattered around the area, and acted as makeshift gathering points.
A handful of the palace’s demihuman servants lingered nearby. Their maid uniforms were absent, replaced with simpler tunics embroidered with Rys’s emblem—a white wand and a scimitar crossed over one another. The wand came from Maria’s family coat-of-arms and the scimitar from Alsia’s original dain.
The attendees weren’t dressed much better than the servants, but Rys suspected that was intentional. The corrupt elders had worn expensive silks and plenty of jewelry.
They had ended up dead because of it. The dains had rebelled and overthrown many elders connected to the past corruption. As a communal society, displays of wealth had likely been discouraged among the elders and elite warriors that were present today.
There was no wiser way to ward off envious violence than to simply not show off. Rys had done similarly when he built the palace. Despite the complex’s size, the materials were simple.
Rys’s palace still projected his power, but through a mechanism other than ostentatious wealth. It was massive. Everybody knew that he built it within weeks using magic. And despite the simple building materials, there were plenty of hidden mechanisms that visitors suspected to be magitech—and were therefore subtle displays of wealth.
The attendees and servants kept their distance, however. This wasn’t due to wealth or class differences, but cultural.
The attendees were true Kinadain who lived in the mountains. Rys’s servants were demihumans from the lowlands who had a Kinadain ancestor, but had long since left the dains. The path for a demihuman to regain the status of a Kinadain was arduous, and very few bothered.
Rys only recognized a few attendees. Sage Hanna was here. She had helped ensure Rys’s rise to power, despite her misgivings regarding him. They hadn’t met since. Her clothes remained unchanged, and she looked like a traveling monk as she wandered between groups.
Elder Jaime enjoyed a drink among a few warriors and elders, his booming voice crystal clear in Rys’s ears. Unlike most of the other Kinadain, Rys knew that Jaime supported him and Alsia. They had fought alongside each other against the Malus League months ago, and Jaime had voiced opposition to some Kinadain cultural practices. He wore fresh furs and a simple tunic, but his muscles bulged beneath them.
Alsia caught his eye as he arrived. She ended her conversation with the elders she had been with and walked over to him. A pair of bodyguards trailed her. For the first time in a long time, she had left her sword behind.
“Is it a requirement for elders to be unarmed?” Rys asked her when she got close.
Almost every eye in the clearing focused on them. Alsia’s approach had drawn attention, and this was the first time many had seen Rys in the flesh.
He calmly looked past Alsia and met the eyes of several elders. Some looked away, one scowled, but most returned the look with a nod.
“It is considered respectful for elders to forgo weapons during meetings between dains,” she said with a smile as she looped herself around one of Rys’s arms. “Of course, we are all Sages and most were warriors or trained magic users so it is only for appearances.”
The stares intensified once Alsia initiated physical contact with Rys. He hoped she had prepared them for their relationship. Given the smirks on a few faces, at least some had known in advance.
“There are twice as many warriors here than elders,” Rys noted as they walked together. “Is that normal?”
She steered him to a table of refreshments. The demihuman servants nearly leaped over to serve him, but Rys scattered them with a look.
This wasn’t the time to be waited on hand and foot. Nearly every person present was a burly warrior or trained spellblade, including half the elders. They weren’t going to be impressed because Rys had servants fawning over him.
Especially not while they had to avoid the same for political reasons, even if they desired it.
“Meetings between dains are one of the few opportunities for our elite warriors to meet in a public setting,” Alsia explained. “Barul might have been our only Slayer, but all warriors are deeply respected.”
“Hmm.” Rys sized up one of the meat-filled pastries in front of him as he thought. “How did the old elders seize so much power then, if they weren’t warriors?”
“Because we respect more than muscles, King Talarys,” Hanna said as she approached him. “Well met.”
“It is good to see you again, Sage Hanna.” His lips turned upward. “Does everybody call each other ‘Sage’ and ‘Elder’ here?”
She rolled her eyes. “You are not Kinadain, and it is respectful to use titles. But you may call me Hanna if you prefer. You have earned that right, as you kept your promises even though you had plentiful reason not to.” She inclined her head in respect.
“Whatever you say, I see a lot more muscles than anything else here,” Rys noted.
Alsia coughed. “Most of the new Sages appointed by the Circle of Brethren were warriors and chosen due to their respected position in their dains.”
Ah, the Circle of Brethren. The pseudo-religious organization that had immense influence and control over Kinadain across the entire archipelago.
“Has the Circle said anything about the coming war?” Rys asked.
“No.” Hana shook her head. “Although several of the Saints in the Circle support the Tolaran Federation, the Circle itself usually ignores politics.”
“Usually,” he said slowly. “What causes them to become involved?”
“The destruction of the dains, I imagine. Existential threats have been what motivated them in the past. Some suspect that is changing, given so many Saints openly support the Federation.” Hanna’s expression turned uncertain. “Truthfully, I worried that they would intervene against you.”
“Do you think they know something?” Rys knew that Avolar should be on the Circle’s naughty list, but they might not know that.
One day, Rys would find himself pitted against the great Kinadain warriors in the Circle of Brethren. He knew that they would move against him one day. Until then, he had time to assess their capabilities.
Hana gave him a look. “Perhaps. You certainly do. Truthfully, the Circle’s presence on Kavolara is weak. There are too few Sages and no Slayers. Perhaps they dislike the status quo, especially with the ever-growing threat of the Malus League.”
No dice. The Circle had the power of plausible deniability.
But Rys did note that there was a connection between the Circle’s ability and the Sages and Slayers. It would be a faux pas to bring it up, but he suspected that the Circle’s influence over the Kinadain was waning. Rys also had a bargaining chip for when he dealt with them.
Alsia gripped his arm tightly and tugged him away from the table. “Thank you for your wisdom, Sage Hanna.”
Eying their enjoined arms, Hanna said, “If I was to offer one more morsel of wisdom, it would be to focus on your happiness, Alsia. A flame will be snuffed out in the wind no matter how brightly it burns.”
“Then maybe it’s time to use a different flame,” Alsia said, trying to catch Hanna’s eyes. “One that can withstand the wind.”
“Change always has enemies. Be careful that you don’t make so many that the wind becomes the least of your worries.”
With those final words, Hanna bowed and retreated.
“I take it you’re bothering some of the elders,” Rys said, turning back to the food.
The platters were simple stuff, especially compared to what was normally served in the palace. He knew that the Kinadain preferred lighter fare at times—Alsia rarely touched meat before midday, for one—but the food here was almost crude at times.
Pastries filled with meat and vegetables; steak submerged in some sort of baked batter; varieties of meats and breads, with a focus on venison. There was even a pot of thick stew, and Rys saw a few warriors carrying around bowls of it.
“Many don’t want the dains to change,” Alsia said. “The elders split into different camps once the dust settled after the elder purge. Some support me. A large group believe that we should regress further, feeling that the source of our problems was becoming involved with the rest of the island.”
“I don’t think even Hanna suggested that,” he noted.
“No. We are inextricably linked to the lowlands. Where else will we get food?” Alsia shot a bitter smile at the assemblage, who shot them surreptitious looks while Rys scoffed down one of the meat pastries.
Refusing all the food would be insulting. The pastry had tasted better than he expected. He might badger the servants about it later.
“Are there other groups?” he asked, pouring an ale from a keg.
“Smaller ones, and they vary a lot in their views. Some elders don’t agree with anyone,” she said.
“Fairly typical, especially as this situation is new to them. Each dain is used to acting alone, I imagine, save for rare dealings with Maria.”
Alsia nodded. “Now, I am asking them to band together and act as one.”
“No, you’re asking them to give up some of their authority in exchange for greater influence,” Rys corrected. “The more they participate and accept you as duchess, the easier it will be for you to overrule their decisions in their own dains. Those who accept you will gain a different kind of power in exchange for that.”
“Do you think they realize that?” She raised an eyebrow.
“People with power tend to be protective of it. Even if they don’t fully understand it, they know that they’re going to lose something.” Rys gestured toward Jaime. “I recommend that we avoid considering anyone spoken for, including allies.”
“I already know who supports and opposes me,” Alsia said.
“No, you know who currently supports and opposes you. But even if you can’t convince somebody with words or passion, they might be bribed or pressured. Public opposition might turn into private support. Or you might convince them to support you, because they oppose your enemies more.”
“What about those who won’t support me, no matter what?” she pressed.
He grinned. “In politics, you always need enemies. Division is an effective tool. External enemies are the best, but if you don’t have one, then you need to maintain or fabricate an internal foe. You can divide and conquer the elders here. Those who oppose you can be dealt with later, once you’ve identified those who truly dislike you.”
“Perhaps we should discuss this in private later,” Alsia muttered. “I’ve kept you away from this so far, but your tactics are much subtler than mine.”
“I’ve done this for a while. You took some drastic actions when you first rose to power, but an iron fist is best used sparingly. More difficult problems become harder to solve if your only answer is to crush everyone who might oppose you,” he said. “Better to only crush those you need to.”
The pair of them stepped toward the Kinadain elders. All eyes followed them. It was time for Rys to help Alsia identify those that needed crushing.