The Bell Tolls for Me

Isabella watched Gaspar walk into her room. Valerio and Randolph stood beside her, but doubt still swirled through her mind. She had been very careful in her discussions with Gaspar not to mention anything that could implicate herself as the translator of the Veymont writings that were now being spread across the kingdom. But… she wasn't perfect. Perhaps something had slipped through—something that would now confront her.

"Your Highness," Gaspar said, dipping his head politely. His gaze shifted over to Valerio. "Your Grace. Thank you for taking the time to meet me."

Isabella watched him tensely. "Could I ask what this is about?"

"In truth, it was Duke Valerio that I wanted to speak to." Gaspar said, looking at the Duke of the Isles. "I thought that he would refuse a visit, so I sought to deliver a message through you, Your Highness. But it seems that I have good fortune."

"Me?" Valerio crossed his arms guardedly. "I don't see what business I could have with someone like you."

"It's not business, per se, but…" Gaspar rubbed his gauntleted hands together.

"Then why are you here?" Isabella insisted. "What is it that you want?"

"Well…" Gaspar hesitated, clearly not expecting to speak so frankly. "Read this, Your Grace."

Gaspar took out a folded piece of paper and handed it off to Valerio. He and Isabella read it, and then looked up at Gaspar silently asking for an explanation.

"Pius is planning to frame and execute the printers responsible for this distribution of pamphlets publishing Veymont's work using that document," Gaspar said. "I wanted you to get word of that to them ahead of time."

Isabella narrowed her eyes skeptically. "Why would you come to us?"

"…because I believed you were capable of doing so," Gaspar said.

As Isabella watched him, her experience dealing with him the past couple days led her to a certain conclusion. He was lying.

"I can't believe that Archbishop Pius would just let us cleanly break away after what we did to him." Isabella paused. "He sent you here to try and implicate us in the distribution of these documents, didn't he? You were hoping that you would be able to catch us in the act of helping these printers."

Gaspar gaped. "I-I…" He hung his head.

"Even if you tell the truth, we won't be able to do anything against you without major repercussions," Isabella assured. "You should know that. You're protected."

Gaspar eventually lifted his head and looked out the window in her room. "You're right."

"Get out," Valerio muttered gutturally.

"If I can explain…!" Gaspar began, but Valerio stepped forward.

Isabella put her hand on Valerio's arm, and he looked to her. "He confessed immediately, Valerio," she said pointedly. In her eyes, that meant something. When he took her point, she stared at Gaspar as she said, "Explain yourself, then."

"I do genuinely want to help those printers, but if Pius suspects that I'm doing something…" He shook his head. "I just didn't want dozens to die for no reason. Given how you've avoided every other trap Pius has laid for you, I'd hoped… I simply assumed this would cause the least damage. The least… evil… choice. I hate this game of…" he trailed off as he raised a hand to his forehead, his distress rising to the surface.

"Why would you care about these workers?" Valerio asked cynically.

"I know what it is to doubt." Gaspar said. "I don't want people to die for doubts that I myself have had. I believe that challenges like this strengthen the church, not weaken it."

"You sympathize with the beliefs of the writer?" Isabella asked curiously.

"No. No, Your Highness," Gaspar said firmly. "Alistair's beliefs are heretical. Moreover, they're impractical. If the faith fractures, the whole of the kingdom could be thrust into civil war. That cannot be allowed. Heresies are all predicated on the use of violence to enforce them."

"But you've read it," Valerio noted.

Gaspar adjusted his sword on his belt. "I've taken up enough of your time," the knight-commander said, evidently feeling that he was talking too much. "I'll leave you be. I'm sorry, and… have a pleasant day, Your Highness, Your Grace."

"Gaspar," Isabella called out. He stopped in his tracks and looked at her. "In the end, it isn't the archbishop who'll answer for your deeds in the afterlife—it's you alone."

"Your Highness?" Gaspar asked, his eyes narrowed.

"If faith is so fragile it must be shielded from words, then it was never faith at all. If you falter at his command, it's not cowardice. It's the whisper of your soul remembering whom you truly serve." Isabella stood up. "Please, be braver than he expects you to be."

Gaspar stared at her, his serene blue eyes somewhat conflicted. Then, he turned and left without another word. Isabella and Valerio both watched him with a certain caution. Silence descended in the room.

Randolph broke the silence, asking, "How much bloody money do you think I could make selling all these secrets you bastards have on the side?"

Valerio looked at him. "Probably more than your salary. But the cost you'd pay after would be much higher." He warned, then walked up to Isabella. "What do you think? Do you want to aid the printers regardless?"

Isabella considered that. "I think… I think that Gaspar will do the right thing. I have faith in him."

"Faith? In that… power-monger?" Valerio said disbelievingly.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

Isabella held her head up. "We are all morphed by our influences."

"Still, I'll send some people to—"

As Valerio spoke, the door opened. Roderick walked in. "Your Grace," Roderick said, bowing his head.

"Roderick!" Valerio greeted enthusiastically. "When did you get back?"

"Just now, Your Grace. While we might spend time on that, just now, Archduke Felix has sent a letter requesting a meeting. He wishes for you and Her Highness Isabella to meet him in the gentleman's club known as Ruge's. He claims that it's about business."

Isabella and Valerio shared a glance.

***

When they arrived at the gentleman's club known as Ruge's, Archduke Felix had already arranged a room for them to meet in private. The foul smell of tobacco permeated the whole place. Isabella and Valerio were escorted without delay, where they found Felix looking out the window at the capital while waiting for them. He didn't even turn his head to look at their arrival. It was only when Duke Valerio and Isabella were fully in their seats that the archduke turned his head to look at them both.

"It seems that you've been busy." Felix looked between the two of them.

Neither of them gave any overt confirmation of what he was suggesting. Despite everything, it was still risky to be associated with Alistair's writing. They didn't wish to give the archduke rope with which to hang them.

"I'm not sure what you're implying here, archduke," Valerio said. "You said that this is about business? Then, we should discuss business."

"Yes…business." Felix flashed him a serious gaze. "I wanted to inform you that I've been just as busy as you have." The archduke pointed out the window of the club. "Do you see that distant warehouse?" he asked. Before they gave their answer, he continued, "Some days ago, I purchased it."

Isabella studied the warehouse that the archduke had pointed out. Even from this distance, she could tell that there was active construction. Given the tone of this conversation, it didn't take her long to piece together what the archduke was implying.

"You're moving ahead with the auction house, then." Isabella spoke calmly, but internally, her troubled stomach grew all the more agitated.

"I think that everyone would agree that the archbishop is preoccupied with this very grave matter of the public outrage. The foundation of the church has been shaken. What would it say of them if he insisted the church spend their time persecuting you two while the people called for reform?" The archduke gave a very self-satisfied smile.

Isabella couldn't help but return the smile, but she quickly wiped it away in preparation for the firm hand that she knew needed to come next.

"Since you've gone ahead with the auction house… then you agree to the 60/40 split we discussed," Isabella stated factually, leaving no room for wavering or weaseling.

The archduke's maroon eyes fixed her with a hard gaze. "Given that I've already done a great deal on my end to get us ready, I think it would be wise to accept us as equal partners. Indeed, I daresay I've done the bulk of the investment necessary."

Valerio snorted. "Equal partners? Equal partners carry equal weight. You? You packed up and skipped town the second the skies got dark, and the storm clouds rolled over the horizon. Now the sun's peeking out and you come waltzing back, all smiles, like we're supposed to forget you left us bailing water alone." He leaned on the table between them, every bit as intimidating as the archduke. "Why should we even consider being equal with a fair-weather friend?"

The archduke looked between them. "It would be wise to remember that I nearly have an operational auction house," he threatened. "And I know the artists that you've worked with."

"It would be wise for you to remember the predicament that the archbishop is facing," Isabella threatened in turn, meeting him blow for blow. "Curiously, you both have 'arch' in your title, but I'd say that the archbishop still has a great deal more clout than you… Archduke Felix. Look where he is now."

The archduke met her gaze, but with Valerio at her side she didn't feel any need to waver. Eventually, Felix broke into a smile and began to laugh.

"I see that I have a rather ruthless business partner." He stared at her for another long while, and then nodded. "Comforting." He offered his hand to shake. "60/40. Your favor. As agreed."

Isabella reached out and shook his hand. Felix offered his hand next to Valerio, but the duke rejected with a shake of his head.

"This is all her," Valerio said. "I'm just providing the funds, nothing more."

"You did more than enough. Just shake his hand," Isabella said in a sharp whisper, seeing no need for this song and dance.

Valerio chuckled, then grasped Felix's hand and gave it a shake.

"Don't take it personally," Felix said quietly. "Business is business."

"I'm aware," Isabella said calmly, glad that she'd forced Felix to cave. Frankly… she had been bluffing, somewhat.

"I believe that all of us would agree that the grand opening needs to take place after the royal diet," Felix began. "If it happens before or during it, then it would likely be overshadowed by the magnitude of that event. Until then, I'll finish construction and prepare a suitable staff to manage the house. I would love to get your insights, Your Highness."

"Royal diet?" Isabella repeated.

Felix raised a brow. "You haven't heard?"

***

"Enough," Claude said firmly. "I've heard all of your arguments. While I am loathe to involve the government in the affairs of the church, it seems as though this circumstance necessitates the interference from the crown."

All of the councilors exhaled in relief upon hearing the king's judgment.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Pius dipped his head gratefully. "I would request that you send a royal decree to Alistair to request him to attend this royal diet. He is a mouthpiece for many of these ideas, and despite his denials, is currently believed to have been the author behind the vast majority of the pamphlets circulating the kingdom."

"We have no certainty?" Claude asked. "What of those printers that published those treasonous documents—those pamphlets that claimed that I was responsible for the assassination of Edgar II?"

"They all escaped, Your Majesty," Pius said bitterly, casting a bitter glance at Gaspar. "Perhaps the knight-commander can explain."

"I have no excuse, Your Majesty," Gaspar supplied. "We've been looking into the matter, but the backer and the author for this incident both elude us."

"For that reason, I propose that the Knight-Commander be removed from his position," a noble spoke up.

"Enough of that," King Claude interrupted. "He can't be responsible for everything. So long as the publication of those documents is stopped, I don't care."

"Your Majesty, the protection of your reputation is just as important as the protection of your person," another argued.

"And that's why we'll begin the process of regulating these printing houses." King Claude looked around. "Should we punish people retroactively? I think not."

"Regardless of whether or not Alistair authored these pamphlets, he has become a figurehead of the movement," Pius insisted. "He is the most adequately equipped to argue for their ideas. I have little doubt he will prove able and willing to be questioned in a diet."

"Very well," King Claude said. "We will give him a letter of safe conduct, and bid him come to the palace to attend the diet."

"How long, Your Majesty?" Albert inquired.

"One week from now," Claude said. "There… we'll settle this."