Chapter Thirty Five
“You know, when we decided to go on a tour of William’s new territory, I had a feeling we might encounter the dungeon at some point,” Olzenya opined from her position on a nearby cot, the high elf staring blankly at the concrete ceiling overhead. “Not for any great length of time you must understand. In my experience, once you’ve seen one you’ve generally seen them all.”
William said nothing as he studiously avoided the glaring of the rest of his team. Fortunately, that was rather easy as he had an entire cell to himself. That didn’t mean he didn’t feel just a little guilty as Olzenya continued droning on.
“Never did I expect that I’d view said cells from the inside though. More fool on me, I suppose. Really, it was unavoidable. After all, how else was a young man expected to remove a politically inconvenient underling than to dismiss her within hours of meeting her? Before attempting to have her arrested? Before then claiming said attempt was a hoax and that he was merely proving a point?”
William winced a little as he sagged against the cold stone wall he was leaned up against.
“Wait, what was that point again?” the blonde seemingly asked the world at large.
To which Bonnlyn answered. “I believe it was that he was firing said underling because she had access to an entire platoon of royal marines as well as a squad of marine-knights who ultimately answered not to him, but her. And that her loyalty, as well as theirs, was to the Queen first and him second.”
A quiet slap rang out as Olzenya’s palm impacted her forehead in feigned realization. “Ah, yes, that.”
“…It was a chain of command issue. She was appointed by the Queen and she answered to the Queen. Directly. Above me. That’s not how it works. I answer to the Queen, those below me answer to me. That’s the chain of command,” William muttered quietly. “I’d like to point out that the fact that Stillwater had the will, ability and authority to have us all locked up down here is kind of proof of why she needed to go. If I’d wanted to be a prisoner in my own home, I wouldn’t have asked to be made a lord of my own territory.”
Both Olzenya and Bonnlyn – in an unusual show of agreement – looked to both be winding up to launch a tirade in his direction when they were interrupted by Marline.
“Just… leave it girls,” Marline said tiredly. “You know how William is.”
For some reason, those words actually seemed to be effective as the two young women paused, before sagging in place.
Which was a relief to him, but…
“What do you mean ‘how William is’?” he asked.
“She means you’re a drama king,” Bonnlyn said.
Olzenya nodded. “A complete drama king.”
Hell, even Verity was nodding along until she noticed he was looking, at which point she flushed and glanced away.
“I am not a drama king,” he said.
“Of course.” Marline gestured to the nearby cells. “You know, despite all the evidence to the contrary.”
Even as she said the words, he knew she was thinking about that night they’d gone out to slay Al’Hundra. Not that she’d known that was the purpose of said trip until the last minute…
…Or the time he’d slept through an attempt to steal the core they’d risked their lives to pillage from Al’Hundra’s nest…
…Because he’d dumped said core into a latrine in a deliberate show of nonchalance.
“I’m not,” he denied weakly.
His team remained silent, the muffled sounds of protest outside once more becoming the only sounds in the dungeon.
He’d like to think that said protests by his territory’s populace were related to his wrongful imprisonment by the former governess, and he didn’t doubt some of it was because of that, but he was pretty sure it was mostly about the disappearance of the final member of his team’s cell.
Xela Tern.
For her part, the wood elf hadn’t said much at all in the few hours since they’d been shoved in here. Indeed, even when they were being arrested by Stillwater’s marines, she’d only put up a token amount of protest. Which he was very thankful for. This situation was messy enough without them having gotten into a tussle with the Royal Navy.
Which was part of why he’d commanded the Redwater Household guard and his own team not to interfere after Stillwater left his office, before returning minutes later with a quartet of confused but dutiful marine-knights.
For the moment at least, they were the wronged party. Explicitly according to the law. He’d been well within his rights as lord of the territory to both ‘fire’ Stillwater and ask the Royal Navy to vacate his territory.
After all, for all its trappings of a more Napoleonic era, the fact was that Lindholm was a feudal nation. Within his territory, he was ostensibly the ultimate authority, such that even the Crown needed to behave diplomatically to avoid an incident.
And this was an incident.
To be sure.
The kind that could really damage the Royal cause if it got out. So much so that he had to wonder whether both of his invisible watchers were here in the dungeon with him or if one was already running to the sloop to call home?
However, all that clear cut ‘rightness’ can still get a whole lot less clear cut if blood gets spilled, he thought. So the name of the game is reluctant compliance and quiet outrage.
“How long do you think we’ll be down here?” Verity finally asked weakly.
Rather than him though, it was Xela that answered. “Not long. My people won’t allow it.”
As one, Team Seven turned to the marine-knight.
“That confident they’ll break you out?” William said.
The older woman snorted as she shifted in her battered undersuit; her armour and weapons having been stripped from her when they’d been escorted down.
“There worried, more like.” The woman said. “That they’ll succeed isn’t in question. Stillwater has a quartet of marine knights and about fifty marines to her name. Dolcaster alone has four thousand souls living in it, and the surrounding villages swell that number to somewhere between five and six thousand. Now, not even a quarter of that is likely going to turn up here and try and break us out, but less than a fifth would be more than enough to get the job done.”
“It’d be bloody,” William said, dread pervading his words as they echoed his earlier thoughts on exactly what he didn’t want to happen.
“Hence why I’m worried,” the woman said, her eyes still closed. “I’d rather not see a bunch of innocent soldiers, marines and civilians on both sides get butchered undertaking some unneeded ‘rescue mission’ because Stillwater’s a moron and you felt like being ‘dramatic’.
Well, she certainly doesn’t mince words, he thought even as another twinge of quiet guilt ran through him.
As much as he refuted the idea that he was some kind of ‘drama king’ he’d admit that he preferred his actions to have a certain amount of… gravitas. Something he blamed on being an ornery old man in a young man’s body.
A perfect storm of wilfulness and impulsiveness, he thought reluctantly.
There’d definitely been other options available to him regarding removing Stillwater. Slower, yes, but significantly less volatile. In his defense though, even in his absolute worst hypotheticals, he really hadn’t expected Stillwater to arrest him – and seemingly her current political rival as a target of opportunity.
Because as he’d mentioned, it was insane.
“Fortunately, the reason I think we’ll be out of here soon enough isn’t primarily because of the mob outside,” Xela continued. “They’re just incentives for her to hurry up. The reason she locked you up is the same reason she’ll hopefully let us go.”
“She needed time to talk to the Queen and receive instructions on what to do,” Willaim said slowly as he realized what she was saying.
For the first time, the wood elf craned an eye open, brown eyes spearing him with startling intensity. “I would have said ‘her royal masters’ - likely a cousin - but you think you’re a big enough shot that Stillwater’s answering to the queen herself?”
William shrugged.
The elf snorted. “Well shit, I guess the rumor mill’s right sometimes after all. Any truth in you being the one to invent the Kraken Slayer? I know you supposedly got this post because you helped contribute to its invention with your new spell-gun thingie, but if the Queen’s got this close an eye on you…”
William looked away. “I’d rather not say.”
For good reason. Still, the antlered woman seemed to take that as confirmation enough as she whistled.
“Well shit,” she said. “At least that explains why this is taking so long. Can’t imagine it’s easy to just get the queen on the horn on short notice.”
She wasn’t wrong. William knew from experience that, as important as he’d made himself with his invention of gunpowder, the Queen couldn’t just drop everything and come to the orb each time he needed to talk to her. There was a good reason Griffith usually acted as the woman’s intermediary where he was concerned, and it wasn’t just plausible deniability regarding his importance to the ongoing creation of Kraken Slayers.
Still, it wasn’t lost on him how the rest of his team – sans Marline – were now staring at him. Sure, he knew they had suspicions about his role in the Kraken Slayer and they leaned heavily in favour of him being its sole inventor, but none of them knew.
And it wasn’t hard to understand why.
It was basically the equivalent of a bunch of cadets at Westpoint suspecting that their classmate had just single handedly headed the Manhattan project without oversight, aid, or state funding.
Theoretically plausible, but vanishingly unlikely despite all the evidence pointing to it being the case.
Need to come clean on that at some point, he thought, even as another part of him shied away from parting with any of his secrets.
Hell, that was the primary reason he hadn’t told them already. Keeping secrets was a habit of a lifetime at this point, practically ingrained into him, and it was a hard habit to break.
Fortunately, his ruminations on the topic broke as the doorway at the top of the stairs leading up to the pseudo-castle above opened and a very uncomfortable looking naval captain strode down.
Instantly he recognized the woman as the skipper of the royal sloop they’d been brought in on. Indeed, the two marine-knights that accompanied her were likewise from the vessel.
“Captain Quinley,” he called out. “Here to affect a daring rescue of a wrongfully imprisoned nobleman?”
The woman’s nose twitched as she reached for a set of keys at her side. “I can’t say there was much daring involved, Lord Redwater.”
“No? No valiant battle through the halls of my home before confronting my dastardly captor in her evil den?” In short order, the doors to his cell were opened and he strode out into the open air while Quinley passed the keys off to her subordinate who moved over to his team’s. “Speaking of which, where is Stillwater? I’ve a few choice words for her if you haven’t run her though.”
Once again, the captain grimaced, though she mastered the expression quickly enough. “There was no need for that. Lady Stillwater formally handed command authority over the local marine contingent over to me following a rather heated dressing down by Queen Yelena over orb call.”
Stepping through the halls of the estate, William couldn’t help but note that many of the Royal Marines that he’d seen earlier were still present as they stood on guard at junctures throughout the mansion.
“And where is she now?” he asked.
It seemed like the captain had been expecting that question, though she clearly didn’t relish giving him the answer as they stepped into his office – the same office he’d been arrested in but a few hours previous.
“Lady Stillwater is being escorted to the capital via carriage to answer for her… shortsighted actions and misuse of military personnel following her dismissal from your service.”
“Good riddance,” Xela Tern muttered as the group followed the captain up the stairs.
“My question wasn’t where she was going, it was where she is.” William said as he rather casually moved to sit behind the desk present – pointedly not offering a seat to the captain, even as he gestured for his friends and Xela to sit wherever they wanted.
Still standing, now in front of his desk, the woman frowned. “She departed nearly half an hour ago, so I imagine she’ll soon be entering the lands of Lady Brownmore.”
William speared the woman with a look. “Far enough away then that I have no reasonable means of catching her before she leaves my territory, nor any legal authority to do so once she does. At least, not without permission from Lady Brownmore. Permission I’d be unlikely to receive on short notice. Is that my understanding of the situation?”
“That would be correct.”
“You could have let us out half an hour ago, but you kept us down there in order for that bitch to get away,” Bonnlyn squawked.
“Cadet!” Quinley’s voice held the whipcrack of command as she turned toward the dwarf. “You will maintain appropriate decorum when speaking to an officer of superior rank.”
The redhead flinched back, instincts compelling her to obey, but not before Olzenya of all people spoke up.
“We’re not in uniform right now ‘ma’am’,” the high elf said. “And with all due respect, I too am curious as to why me and my friends just spent an extra half-hour languishing in the basement, while the woman who wrongfully put us there was in the process of escaping judgment?”
“It’s fine,” William said, drawing the conflict short. “Well, it’s not fine. Not even close. But I honestly prefer things this way. If Stillwater was still here I’d be compelled to dole out some kind of justice on her. I’d rather just avoid that headache.”
Quinley subtly relaxed. “I’m glad you see things that way, my lord. That was the Queen’s thinking as well.”
William just rolled his eyes. “Did she have anything else to say? Because I’ve got a few things I’d like to say.”
The captain coughed, before gesturing to the orb on the table. “Unfortunately, our Lady was in the middle of a meeting with some Solite diplomats when Lady Stillwater’s missive arrived. It was not something she could just cut short. She stepped away for a brief window to make her wishes known, but has likely since returned to said meeting.”
Meeting with the Solites? William thought. That’s interesting.
“Did she give a time when I might contact her again?” he asked.
“The meeting should be over within the next hour or two. She has requested that you stay near the orb so that she may speak to you at that time.”
Well, that was fine by him. Though it did beg the next question.
“Alright, so I can’t help but notice there’s still a small army of marines in my home. All of which answer to you. Given my experiences with the last person to hold that power, I think you might understand why I’d be leery of that.”
Quinley frowned. “My Queen thought that might come up. Originally she wanted them to leave with Stillwater, but was convinced otherwise when I brought up the current danger to the manse posed by the… mobs outside.”
William frowned. “Xela, think you can go… calm them down? You’ve got my permission to order about the Household Guard if you need them.”
The wood elf grinned as she stood up, though not before Quinley spoke again.
“My lord, I feel compelled to comment that… parts of the mob are made up of members of the Household guard.”
Xela’s grin, if anything, grew wider. “I’ll handle it, boss.”
William smiled. “Great. If you can get everyone settled without too much trouble and get the Household guard back to their regular duties, you can have Stillwater’s old job.”
The woman stiffened, before eying. “I’ll hold you to that, boss.”
With that, the gruff woman was gone and William turned back to Quinley. “Marines can stay in place until Xela gets everything back to rights. Then I want them and you gone. I might answer to the Queen, but I can do so without figuratively having her fist wrapped around my scrote.”
To his surprise, the woman seemed unbothered by his language – but he supposed she was part of the navy so it shouldn’t.
“That’s fine. Preferable even. My queen wished me to stress that the Royal Navy has no interest in interfering in the internal affairs of her vassals and that the presence of her marines here was always supposed to be a temporary measure during this transitional period.”
“I’m sure,” William deadpanned.
Perhaps that’d be true in another noble’s lands, but Yelena wanted to maintain as much control over him and his actions as she possibly could. An ever present garrison of Royal Marines would serve that purpose just fine.
“Either way, you’re dismissed. Nothing personal against you, but given recent events, I’d rather this be the last I see of you, captain, until it’s time for your people to depart,” he said.
If he didn’t miss his guess, that would suit the captain just fine too as she popped off a hasty bow, before departing.
Taking in a relieved breath, he settled into his new chair. Then he turned to his waiting team.
“Alright Bonnlyn, could you go see if you can’t find Piper from the Alchemist’s guild, I want to speak to her and you about what I’ll finally be putting all those new workshops to work on.”
The Dwarf shot up, before nodding eagerly. “Got it!”
With that done, she was gone. Turning to the rest of the team, he shrugged. “As for you lot, honestly, I don’t really have anything super specific for you to do.”
Olzenya stared. “Well, given that you apparently have no use for us and I’ve spent most of my time in your territory as a prisoner thus far, I’m kind of wondering why you asked us all to accompany you?”
“Besides the joy of your company as well as your tacit support as I settled into my new lordly duties?” he teased.
“Yes. Besides that,” the high elf noted.
“And the fact that you hate your family?” Marline pointed out from where she was leaned up against a wall.
“Hate is a strong word,” Olzenya said without hesitation. “But yes.”
“I thought it was nice to see William’s new home,” Verity murmured. “I mean, he’s lord of this whole area? That’s more land than my former mistress had. I mean, have you seen the size of this house? It even has a dungeon in the basement, sure… being stuck in there for hours wasn’t so much fun, but… his house is big enough it has a dungeon!”
Even as the two girl’s stared at their orcish teammate, William found himself reminded that for all that she stuck out like a sore thumb in most of the gatherings they attended… Verity was technically the most normal one present. For her, inheriting new lands and coming into ownership of entire towns wasn’t just ‘expected’.
“It is pretty cool, isn’t it?” he said smugly as he regarded the two elves. “And I’m glad you were all here to share it with me.”
Marline rolled her eyes. “Alright William, your new lands are cool, whatever that’s supposed to mean. Now, can you tell us the real reason you asked us all to accompany you on this trip?”
Pouting a bit at having his fun ruined – though on consideration, he supposed he’d had enough ‘fun’ today already – he settled back into his chair. “We’ve got two weeks until our second year at the academy starts. That means Shards. As it happens, according to my research, Xela was a dedicated shard pilot prior to being given the role of governess over these lands. Now, I’ll definitely be spending the next two weeks getting all my ducks in a row here before I need to head back to the academy, but I figured this’d be a good opportunity for us all to get some practice time in behind the ‘stick’ before the school year starts.”
Olzenya sat up. “And we couldn’t have gotten said practice time in at our own estates? Hell, does Xela even fly a two seater?”
William had expected that question. “First of all, not all of us have estates on which to practice.”
Verity sure as shit didn’t. Bonnlyn neither. Marline’s family had sold their shards years ago to pay for maintenance on their downed airship. And as Marline stated earlier, Olzenya’s familial situation echoed his own, but worse.
Which was why he knew the high elf was being difficult for the sake of it. Which was fine. Indeed, the entire team had come to rather enjoy her downright acidic personality.
It grew on you.
Like mold.
“Alright, that’s fair,” she admitted. “But the two seater?”
William shrugged. “She doesn’t have one to my knowledge, but we’re only a few miles from the Capital. I doubt it would be too hard for me to call in a few favours to get us loaned a practice plane for a fortnight.”
Indeed, if anything the events of the last few hours would make it downright trivial.
-----------------------
It was barely a few minutes later that he found himself still in his office, but with entirely different company – Marline, Olzenya and Verity having wandered off to practice their magic, sword skills or otherwise entertain themselves.
Which was why he found himself sitting across from two quite animated dwarves.
“-have many ways of refining Earthblood. Where other applications of alchemy have become less viable in the minds of the ignorant over time, Earthblood has remained a reliable source of income given its military applications.”
William nodded along, trying to ignore how the older woman’s alchemy dress moved in the most… interesting of ways when she got animated.
Though given the grousing look Bonnlyn was giving him currently, he wasn’t entirely sure he was proving to have much success. Fortunately – or unfortunately – Piper ‘just Piper’ was too caught up in trying to sell her guild to him to notice.
“That is good to hear. I’ve been led to understand it’s the primary payload for most modern bomber craft?” he said.
The woman nodded eagerly. “That it is, and with the growing prominence of shards in Lindholm, the need for Earthblood Incendiaries will likely only continue to grow. Indeed, I fully expect we shall find ourselves quite inundated with requests for the fiery concoction in the coming months, in no small part due to your own contributions.”
“Mine?” he asked. “While I’ll not complain of the compliment, I have to ask why you’d attribute any uptick in Earthblood sales to me?”
The dwarf grinned. “Why, your contributions to the Kraken Slayer project, my lord. While I’ll not deny that most of the nation’s focus is on the many new airships that are set to be born in the next few years, many people forget that just as great – or perhaps even greater – mass of shards will be created in the same time period. And those shards will require armaments. A constant supply of them even.”
“Which is where your guild comes in.” William smiled.
“Which is where your guild comes in, if you can forgive my boldness, my lord.” Piper shifted in her seat, and he couldn’t help but wonder how much of her coming words were borne from seeing what happened to this desk’s last occupant. “We now dwell on your land and exist at your discretion. Make no mistake, any dividends from our work will flow straight into your-”
The alchemist’s voice trailed off as the orb on his desk started to chime.
“Apologies ladies, it seems this meeting will have to undergo a brief recess. Bonnlyn, would you accompany our dear Guild Mistress out.” He paused. “Oh, and while you’re at it, you have my blessing to see how viable it might be to have your family take over or supplement the increased quantities of Earthblood we’ll be needing.”
Ignoring the way the dwarf swelled up at the carte blanche to write her own cheques he’d practically just handed her, he glanced at the guild woman. “I assume that wouldn’t be an issue?”
The dwarf glanced back and forth between the two students, no doubt coming to her own conclusions, before nodding. “Not an issue at all, assuming the Mecants can keep up with our demands.”
“That won’t be an issue,” Bonnlyn said without preamble, her inner merchant princess coming to the fore.
“Excellent,” he said as the two dwarves made for the door before exiting.
As they did, he turned and tapped the orb, running a small wisp of aether into it.
“Hello, my Queen,” he said as Yelena’s irritated expression appeared in the orb. “How has your day been? Well I hope. Because mine’s been downright dreadful.”
“I’m sure.” The woman scoffed, but there was no real heat in it. “And while I’ll certainly not argue that Stillwater handled it about as poorly as one possibly could, did you really have to rattle her so?”
“I had a point to make. I made it. All she did in response was prove that I was right to make said point in the first place.”
“Your motive perhaps. Your method could have used work.”
“You’re not the first to say as much.” He shrugged, though straightened up as the queen’s face became serious.
“Why William? I thought we had an understanding. That we were allies. What you did doesn’t strike me as the actions of an ally.”
He responded with equal seriousness. “Neither does attempting to make someone a prisoner in their own home. If I was willing to accept that kind of life I’d have accepted the hand of one of your daughters when you offered it.”
He eyed her. “Your compromise was to make me a lord in my own right and one of your vassals. So let me be a lord.”
“You are a lord,” Yelena said.
“In name,” Willaim said. “Less so in reality until a few hours ago. The fact Stillwater had the authority and power to lock me in my own basement says as much. So, with that in mind, let me build my own household guard. Just like any other lord.”
The woman matched his stare with her own. “You’re arguing over semantics. What does it matter if my marines are stationed in your territory or a few dozen miles down the road? It doesn’t, beyond their capability to protect you in the event of an attack.”
William wasn’t about to be distracted by that line of logic. “It’s the same difference between having a town guard on your street, and one in your house. One is security, the other is tyranny.”
“Such dramatics.” The woman rolled her eyes. “Ignoring all that, am I truly to believe that this… tantrum has nothing to do with our last conversation?”
His eye twitched. “It doesn’t. And do not attempt to diminish my arguments by equating them to the actions of some kind of petulant child. My mother and the Blackstones did that - and look how it ended.”
This time, when the woman turned back to him, it was to regard him coolly. “Were I a lesser woman, I’d think that was a threat.”
This time he rolled his eyes. “Then it’s a good thing you’re not a lesser woman.” He sighed. “Look, I’m not asking for much. Just the same rights as any other noble in Lindholm. Surely I’ve earned that much.”
Yelena stared at him, before nodding. “Fine. But in the future, if you have an issue like this again, contact Griffith and she will contact me. This whole incident could have been avoided if you’d just aired your concerns.”
This time, he glanced away. “Well, in truth I didn’t expect things to escalate as they did.”
Yelena let out a low throaty laugh. “Such is the impetuousness of youth I suppose. With that said, I would prefer it if this incident remained under wraps.”
“Because a lot of nobles, both major and minor, would be very upset at the thought of their personal guard being dissolved in favour of marine garrisons?”
“…Yes.”
“Done.” He grinned. “In return for a small favour.”
“William,” Yelena grunted, sending him a warning glare.
He held up his hands defensively, even as his smile grew. “It really is something small, I promise.”
She eyed him, inviting him to say what it was.
Quickly.
“I need a Unicorn or some other kind of practice two-seater to be flown out to us. Just for the next fortnight.”
The woman’s eyebrow rose as something like relief flashed across her features. “I assume this is for your team? I can do that easily enough, but do you need an instructor as well?”
He shook his head. “I’ve already got someone in mind for the role.”
“Ok, it’s your choice. Still, just a fortnight? That seems cheap enough to keep your mouth shut about… today.”
“Oh, that’s not all” He said. “That was just the easiest thing. The other is that I need a shard. Permanently. Of any type. I need it to act as a test bed for some new designs.”
This time Yelena’s features twisted as she considered it. Sure, given his contributions he knew she couldn’t really deny him, but it just was in the nature of the people of this world to give up mithril of any kind without a fight. Sudden surplus of the material or not, that was a difficult mindset to shake.
Fortunately, he could make it easy for her.
“If it makes my request any simpler, I don’t need the shard-core. Just a functioning airframe.”
Yelena asked. “Just the frame?”
“Sure, but as I said, it needs to be theoretically functional. Pressure piping. Aether-cannons. All the bells and whistles.”
“That’s much more easily done,” Yelena admitted. “But I can’t help but be curious why?”
“It’ll be the test bed for some new ideas I’ve had for the spell-bolt concept. With that said, I need to know how said designs will fit in a plane without affecting other bits of functionality,” he lied easily.
“Weight is another factor,” Yelena said absently. “In flight, even a few extra kilos of weight to the front or back of a craft can totally change its flight characteristics.” It was clear she wasn’t really too concerned though and was just speaking academically. “Still, for early testing of basic implementation of new weapon designs… well, I don’t see why we couldn’t have an old frame shipped out.”
He grinned. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”