Valkyrie's Shadow

Chapter 21

“What does that one say?”

“Super Addictive Beef Fried Soba.”

“Does that mean it contains poison, my lady?”

Lady Aura gave her a funny look.

“Why would they poison the food?” She asked.

“Some people willingly consume poison,” Ludmila answered. “Alcohol is the most prevalent example. There are all sorts of poisonous materials used in food. Most of the effects are minor when taken in moderation and many are considered welcome.”

“What the sign means is that the food’s so delicious that it’s addictive,” Lady Aura told her. “I’m not a Cook, so I can’t appraise food for poison. None of the recipes should create a poisonous consumable, though…”

“You have our assurances that none of this food is poisonous, Lady Zahradnik.”

Ludmila looked to her left to find Miss Alpha standing nearby. She lowered her head slightly to the Maid.

“My apologies for the misunderstanding this morning, Miss Alpha,” Ludmila said.

“No,” Miss Alpha shook her head, “it is I who should be offering an apology. To strike a guest of Nazarick…as a member of the royal household, I should know better than to act so rashly – especially against someone with whom I was already familiar with.”

“I don’t believe your actions were inappropriate for the situation,” Ludmila replied. “A household answers to the will of its master first and foremost.”

“You are most kind to say so, my lady.”

“Would you happen to have any recommendations out of these food stalls, Miss Alpha?”

The Maid came closer, adjusting her spectacles before scanning the signs overhead.

“Much like the festivals that my lady may be familiar with,” she said, “the food being offered is meant to be enjoyed as a part of the experience as a whole. I can guarantee that everything being served will be delicious, though I suppose what race each food item would be delicious for is the question. Let’s see, for a Human…if you’re looking for something hearty, I would recommend the fried soba or a beef bowl. Lighter fare would include the fried octopus or fried chicken. If you desire something sweet, I’d suggest a crêpe or baked sea bream.”

I still have no idea which stand is which.

“What about you, Lady Aura?” Ludmila asked, “What will you be having?”

“Hmm…I think I’ll go for the fried soba and the baked sea bream.”

“I’ll have the same,” Ludmila said. “Our time is limited, after all. I can always investigate the rest later.”

When they finally reached the head of the line, the masked fellow manning the stand bowed respectfully to Lady Aura. The Dark Elf Ranger raised a finger.

“One Beef Fried Soba,” she said. “Make it a large!”

Lady Aura came away with a huge rectangular plate and a giant grin on her face. Ludmila stepped up to the stall and placed a coin on the counter.

“One Beef Fried Soba,” she said. “Just a normal portion, please.”

She received a plate roughly half the size of Lady Aura’s. The masked stand operator stared at her silently.

“My change?” Ludmila prompted.

The masked man shook his head.

What?

“You don’t get any change,” Lady Aura said.

“…but I paid with a gold coin. Surely this food doesn’t cost a whole gold coin.”

“Huh? What are you talking about? It’s only one gold coin. That’s cheap!”

How was that cheap? A gold trade coin was enough to pay for half a year’s worth of dinners at a decent restaurant.

Once, when they were children, Clara had rambled on about something called ‘inflation’. It was something that made goods more expensive over time relative to currency, so had that mystical phenomenon resulted in this plate of noodles selling for a gold coin?

“Let’s line up at the next stand,” Lady Aura told her.

Ludmila held back her tears as Lady Aura led her away. She didn’t feel like eating anymore. It was a good opportunity to embrace her Undead nature and fast for the duration of her stay in Nazarick.

I should at least eat this dish. It’s by far the most expensive meal I’ve ever bought for myself.

Since a child had chosen the food, Ludmila expected them to be suited to a child’s taste. She wasn’t wrong. The fried soba, which came in some sort of rectangular container, was a mix of noodles, diced vegetables, and meat slathered in a savoury sauce. The red sea bream – which also cost a whole gold coin – was unexpectedly a type of baked pastry in the shape of a fish. After taking a bite out of it, she found some sort of sweet reddish-brown paste inside.

“This is a dessert…?”

“There’s no such thing as ‘dessert’ in a festival,” Lady Aura told her. “You eat whatever you want, whenever you want. That’s part of the fun!”

“I see…”

It did seem to be the case. Everywhere around them, Nazarick’s denizens were enjoying themselves without any sense of procedure. The festivals she was accustomed to had a more formal structure to them, though she supposed it was a practice necessitated by the limited resources available to host events in the past. Given what she had seen so far, she doubted that Nazarick shared similar issues.

By the time they returned to the Sorcerer King, his entourage was ready to move on. The crowds made way for them as they headed to the venue where the coming performances were to be staged. A modest, yet well-crafted auditorium had been fashioned in a field at one end of the festival grounds. Unlike the arena, there wasn’t a booth reserved for the Sorcerer King, but there was a section of clearly superior seating near the front and centre.

Ludmila took her place with Lady Shalltear’s coterie, which occupied the Sorcerer King’s left. A slight sense of unease filled her when she noticed her liege gesturing for her to join her. Ludmila made her way over and lowered her head.

“How may I be of service, my lady?”

Lady Shalltear gave her a reproachful look.

“There’s no need to be like that, my dear,” she said. “Lord Ainz has personally requested your presence at his side.”

Ludmila’s gaze shifted to Lady Shalltear’s right. She had assumed that the seat would have been occupied by Lord Mare or Lady Aura, but the twins were on the other side. Ludmila swallowed and presented herself before the Sorcerer King.

“Umu. Have a seat, Lady Zahradnik. I would like your thoughts on the upcoming performances. As you may have noticed, there is a distinct lack of feedback from those outside of Nazarick.”

“I am at Your Majesty’s service,” Ludmila replied. “If I may ask, what aspects of the performances should I be paying attention to?”

“Please be at ease,” the Sorcerer King told her. “I simply desire…an assessment. Yes, an assessment as to whether this festival’s offerings would be well-received in E-Rantel.”

She breathed an internal sigh of relief. It seemed like a reasonable enough request. After one last look at Lady Shalltear, who simply smiled back at her, Ludmila settled into the empty seat beside the Sorcerer King.

“If I recall correctly,” she said, “the Royal Court put forward several proposals for city festivities. I haven’t heard of any developments concerning them since midwinter.”

“I deemed the plans too rash to implement,” the Sorcerer King replied. “Or perhaps too one-sided would be a better way to put it. I was surprised that there was no real feedback from the local leaders considering that all of the plans demanded that the city be turned upside down with urban restructuring.”

“The local leaders…if Your Majesty is referring to the Guilds, that’s hardly surprising. They aren’t Nobles, after all. E-Rantel was formerly under House Vaiself. The Provost and his administrative staff managed the city on the King’s behalf and the Guilds merely adapted to any changes in policy.”

“So you mean to say that the city leadership is so passive because they were never the leadership in the first place? That would explain the lack of resistance to any changes we made in the city.”

“They are the leaders of their respective organisations,” Ludmila replied, “but the Guilds are subservient to local law and have no legal right to influence policy. A festival is merely a business opportunity for them to exploit.”

“Do you not believe that the organisations overseeing local industry should have some say in policy?” The Sorcerer King asked.

“Not in a legislative capacity, no,” Ludmila answered. “Of course, they may petition the administration if they so desire, but time and experience have shown that they always try to turn any situation to their advantage. If they were allowed to enact legislation, that legislation would similarly work to their benefit. Their present role as regulatory bodies for their respective industries is sufficient…speaking of which, none of these festival stands would be allowed to exist in E-Rantel without the permission of the Guilds.”

“I-Is that so?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Ludmila held up her baked sea bream. “This pastry, for instance, would need to be sold by a business employing a master recognised by the Baker Guild. The stand would also have to be registered with the Merchant Guild. Attempts to independently run the stand will result in the operator’s activities being…discouraged.”

“…what does that entail, exactly?”

The Sorcerer King’s voice took on a dark tone. In the seats around them, His Majesty’s vassals hushed and turned their attention to the conversation.

“It would be civil enough to begin with,” Ludmila said. “The stand operator would be informed that they are operating without the permission of the Guilds and a demand to cease operations would be issued. If the operator chooses to ignore the demands of the Guilds, they will discourage everyone from visiting the stand. Since everyone in the city is associated with one guild or another, they will comply with the order. At this point, a regular business would become insolvent. However, if the stand persists for some reason, the Guilds will resort to violence.”

“Violence?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. It usually comes in the form of an accident. The stand may be severely damaged or set on fire and its inventories destroyed in some manner. The staff may be injured or outright assassinated.”

“Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

“Regulatory bodies need teeth,” Ludmila shrugged. “Just as a government must have martial might to maintain its sovereignty and the rule of law, the Guilds need ways to enforce their regulations. As far as they are concerned, such measures are taken to protect the markets and their participants.”

A long silence ensued in the wake of her explanation. She wasn’t sure if the Guilds would be stupid enough to attack the Sorcerer King’s vassals, but the existence of the Guilds wasn’t limited to the Sorcerous Kingdom. Any foreign ventures that the Sorcerous Kingdom’s citizens embarked on might very well encounter resistance from the Guilds, especially with the majority of its population being from tribal societies that were unfamiliar with the Guild System.

“We should just squish them if they try anything,” Lady Aura said. “Why should we follow their rules?”

“That is a question every Noble probably asks themselves at least once,” Ludmila smirked. “Realistically speaking, the Guilds are too powerful for most countries to fight. For instance, if the Baharuth Empire tried to exert control over the Guilds, the imperial economy would collapse within a month.”

“That almost sounds like the Empire’s problem with the Temples,” Lady Shalltear said.

Everyone stared at Lady Shalltear as if she had uttered some unprecedented thing. The Vampire’s crimson gaze went back and forth in uncertainty.

“Wh-What?”

“It’s weird that you would know that,” Lady Aura said.

“How rude! Don't you think I’d be just a bit curious about that sort of thing as a Cleric?”

“And where would you learn about something like this?”

“In the reports to the Ministry of Transportation? I’ll have you know that I take my job very seriously!”

The Sorcerer King silenced their back and forth with another majestic wave of his hand.

“Mah, Shalltear’s diligence is a good thing, no?” He said, “I also share the same thought: it feels like many organisations in the region resort to similar measures.”

“The Temples are effectively the ‘healer Guild’, after all,” Ludmila said. “To be fair, the Guilds use violence as a last resort. It isn’t as if they’re a criminal syndicate trying to gain clout. By opening a proper dialogue with the Guilds, most of the problems I described should be nonexistent. This should be done sooner rather than later, especially with the majority of Your Majesty’s subjects being ignorant of how the Guilds work.”

“Now that you mention it, it’s a surprise that it hasn’t happened yet. It would be a shame to see those trying to participate in the economy run out of the city due to their ignorance.”

“Countess Wagner and Baroness Gagnier took the initiative to ensure that it never happened. As the Sorcerous Kingdom’s holdings grow, however, so does the risk of some poor fellow slipping through the cracks.”

“I could see it happening,” the Sorcerer King nodded. “What was done to ensure that their initiative was successful?”

“The nominal cooperation of the Guilds is easy enough to secure with the prospect of profit,” Ludmila said. “Since the Royal Court had the foresight to create the Demihuman Quarter, it ended up being a relatively painless process overall.”

“Middle management seems to be a thankless job wherever one finds themselves,” the Sorcerer King muttered.

“Your Majesty?”

“Ah, I was just thinking that people in that sort of position aren’t receiving enough recognition for their work.”

“Countess Wagner was promoted less than a year ago,” Ludmila noted, “and she was granted an extraordinarily generous portfolio of titles. I assure Your Majesty that she feels indebted rather than underappreciated.”

“And Baroness Gagnier?”

“She’s been assigned a wide variety of important duties, but she does harbour certain misgivings. Rather than feeling underappreciated, however, she fears that she’s being left behind. As a Noble, duty is an honour, but she is also a Merchant and her mother is from Karnassus.”

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with Karnassus culture,” the Sorcerer King said. “Could you provide a summary?”

“Everything I know is second-hand information, Your Majesty,” Ludmila replied. “Simply put, if one takes the competitive, cutthroat nature of the Empire and escalates it by an order of magnitude, you get the City State Alliance. The lack of consolidated power between the city-states likely makes it far worse. Every city-state claims to be the true heir of the ancient realm of Karnassus, and every house in every city-state claims to be the true ruler of its city-state. It’s said that a highborn scion from Re-Estize is laughably outclassed by one from Karnassus, and, after seeing Baroness Gagnier at work, I don’t doubt that it’s true.”

“I suppose the competitive environment makes for an excellent place to gain experience.”

“That is my interpretation as well, Your Majesty. With the advances we’ve made in the Sorcerous Kingdom, however, we should be able to make a decent showing against them.”

Ludmila turned her head to the sky as it started to dim. The bright sun and fluffy clouds were replaced by a silver moon and a canopy of glittering stars. Magical lighting grew in intensity to illuminate the stage and a slug-like individual dressed in a black coat with a red bow tie crawled to the podium. It bowed deeply to the Sorcerer King before addressing the audience.

“Don’t you people have anything better to do?” It said, “Well, whatever. At least the itinerary is short today. Try not to stink up the place any longer than necessary.”

With that, the slug-like person turned around and raised a baton in an amphipod that had grown out of its skin. Had she heard the thing correctly? Maybe the language that it spoke was one that couldn’t be translated properly.

No, if that was the case, it shouldn’t have made much sense at all.

“Is it just me,” Ludmila said, “or was that extremely rude?”

“Well, Chacmool does hold the title of ‘worst personality’ for a reason,” the Sorcerer King said.

Is that supposed to excuse their behaviour? Is he the god of rudeness?

She looked to her left and her right as a light medley filled the air, but no one else seemed to react poorly to Chacmool’s behaviour. They went through a half dozen performances – most of which she couldn’t make much sense out of – before reaching the performance that everyone appeared to be waiting for. The skies took on the hues of twilight and the heat and humidity rose significantly. An illusory tropical cityscape the likes of which she had never seen shimmered into view as familiar growling voices filled the air.

“Princess!”

“Princess Ramani!”

“Call out if you can hear us!”

A trio of torch-bearing Wolf Beastmen entered from stage right. Another duo entered from the opposite side. The whole lot appeared to be the same race as Nabe, using their shapeshifting abilities to help fill their roles in the performance.

“Do you still have her scent?” The largest, a silver-haired male nearly three metres tall, asked.

“We lost it at the Mahim Canal, Captain. My squad split up to see if we could pick it up again somewhere else.”

“Did the kidnappers have a boat waiting?”

“If they did, sir, they’re screwed. Flights from Shikra Vimana should be scrambling soon if they haven’t already. A damn canal barge isn’t going to get away from the Royal Air Force.”

The silver-haired Captain stroked his jowls.

“It can’t be that simple. No one runs off with a princess just like that. There has to be more to their escape plan.”

“There probably is. Problem’s that it could be anything. They could’ve used scent-masking items at the bridge to fool us into thinking they went down the canal. They could’ve used flight items to get to the rooftops. Water-breathing items are a good pick, too. Or they could have Invisibility items, scent-masking items, and flight ite–”

“I get it, I get it!” The Captain waved his paw in annoyance, “I should’ve never taken that promotion. I’d give anything to be back chasing Thuggees around the countryside again.”

“What are your orders, sir?”

“We’re switching from pursuit to containment,” the Captain replied. “I’ll contact the station for reinforcements.”

“But what if they do something to Princess Ramani in the meantime?”

“It’ll be worse if they get away with her entirely! Start establishing the cordon. The sooner we get that done, the sooner we can get to flushing out our quarry.”

The Beastmen offered their Captain a salute before dispersing. Their Captain released a long sigh before jogging off as the scene transitioned to a verdant glade receiving the first light of dawn. He made his way along a paved road to a bustling building built at the base of a massive tree. Inside, Beastmen of various types were hunched over desks or discussing their work over wooden tables.

“Captain,” a Tiger Beastman rose from one of the desks and came forward to speak in a low voice, “Prince Bajirao is here.”

“What for?” The Captain snarled, “Does he think that coming here personally will improve things somehow? Having the Prince looming over our shoulders is the last thing we need right now!”

“His escorts can probably hear you right through the walls, sir.”

He turned away with a snap of his teeth. Though Ludmila wasn’t too familiar with Beastman body language, the Captain’s frustration was evident. The night had probably not gone well for him. He visibly settled himself before entering a side office where a trio of Tiger Beastmen awaited him.

“Captain Patel,” the towering visitor in the middle nodded.

“Your Royal Highness,” Captain Patel lowered his head. “Since you’ve come here personally…could it be that a ransom demand has been made?”

“No,” the Prince answered with a rumble. “Considering how long this operation has taken, I’ve decided to lend you two of my best. Strange rumours about my sister’s disappearance have begun to spread across the isles and they must be put to rest.”

“Could these rumours perhaps assist us with our search?”

“No, it’s just the usual ridiculousness that surrounds celebrities. As ridiculous as they are, however, they still have very real consequences.”

“We’d appreciate such highly qualified assistance, Sir,” the Captain said. “But I must make it understood that this case is the jurisdiction of the metropolitan police and not that of the royal household.”

“Of course, Captain Patel. I only ask that you make the most out of their skills so we may all return to our regular lives as quickly as possible.”

Ludmila knew that it was just a theatrical production, but she couldn’t help but examine the panoply of the cast. The Beastmen were far removed from those in the tribes west of the Draconic Kingdom. They all wore uniforms filled with iconography aplenty, suggesting a long-established society with a high degree of public order. The Captain – who seemed to be a member of something like a city militia – also showed no hesitation in drawing lines of authority. This spoke volumes about the separation of powers and how prevalent the rule of law in this Beastman society was.

“Your Majesty,” Ludmila asked in a low voice, “does the setting in this production exist somewhere in the world?”

“Not that I know of,” the Sorcerer King answered. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s at least partly based on something somewhere.”

“I’d like to visit such a place, if so,” Ludmila said. “I feel that there would be much to learn from them: especially when it comes to how advanced societies facilitate coexistence between its member races.”

“Captain! Squad Twenty-Seven’s found something.”

“Could you be a bit more specific?” Captain Patel grated.

“A Mugger was found trying to sell some garments she obviously had no business possessing in the understory. They could be from Princess Ramani.”

“Where did they find him?”

“At one of the markets near the outlet of the Mahim Canal. She claims that someone traded it to her for a bolt of jute cloth when she was clearing her plot on the riverbank.”

“A trade that any Merchant would envy,” the Captain grunted. “It sounds like our kidnappers are going to try to sneak through the cordon with their prize.”

“Yes, sir. We’re closing the noose on them now.”

Captain Patel rushed out of the office. The prince’s two retainers stalked after him on silent footsteps. The illusory backdrop went by as the group ‘travelled’ to their destination, eventually stopping at a huge pipe that emptied into a broad, silt-laden river. Captain Patel’s snout twisted in what could only be an expression of disgust.

“Don’t tell me they went in there…”

“We have a confirmed sighting of the princess, sir,” one of the Beastman officers at the site said. “We sent a squad in after them. A dozen more are moving to cover potential exits along the way.”

“Good,” Captain Patel said. “I can’t wait to–”

A roar echoed out of the pipe, followed by the sound of a violent scuffle. The Captain and his comrades shared uneasy looks in the long silence that followed.

“The squad isn’t responding,” the officer said.

Prince Bajirao’s retainers jogged into the pipe.

“Wait!” Captain Patel held out a paw, “Damn it all! I’m going in after them. Stay in contact.”

“Yes, sir,” the officer said.

The skies of the Sixth Floor turned pitch black as the Captain made his way into the underbelly of the jungle metropolis. Fortunately, the production had decided not to emulate whatever the Beastmen were smelling. They rapidly made their way through the sewers, their steps slowing to a stop when they came across a junction littered with corpses.

“What the…” The Captain breathed as he examined the scene, “These are all our people. Just who the hell made off with Princess Ramani? Hey–”

Captain Patel sighed upon discovering that the two retainers had resumed their pursuit without him. By the time he caught up with them again, they had caught up to a Tiger Beastman scaling a rusted ladder.

Ludmila frowned as she scanned the stage. It didn’t look like there was anyone else with him.

“Pravin,” one of the retainers growled, “how dare you spit upon the King’s benevolence! What have you done with the princess?”

Their target continued his ascent without replying. The second retainer made a slashing motion with a claw. A screech filled the air as the ladder was separated from its fastenings, dumping Pravin into the channel below.

“There is no escape!” The retainer said, “Tell us what you have done with the princess and we will grant you the mercy of a swift death.”

“Hey,” Captain Patel said, “we’ve had this thing called ‘due process’ for the last few centuries.”

“This one has already violated our most sacred values!” The retainer spat, “The punishment for his taboo is already ordained.”

“What do you mean by th–”

A hulking figure materialised from the shadows, laying one of the retainers low with a powerful slash of its claws. Captain Patel was sheared in half by the backhand and his two halves fell into the sewage with a shallow splash. The shadowy ambusher pounced on the remaining retainer, overwhelming the shocked Beastman in a flurry of teeth and claws. When the carnage ended, a hooded figure clothed in bloodstained jute cloth stood alone in the light.

“I didn’t want this,” the figure sobbed in a distinctly feminine voice.

“Ramani,” Pravin said, “we need to find another way out!”

The hooded figure sighed and looked up at the bent and broken ladder.

“This is still fine,” Princess Ramani said. “We won’t be able to get out any other way, anyways. Hold onto me.”

The Beastman princess scooped the much shorter Pravin up into her arms. A single, powerful, leap launched them to the severed end of the ladder and the next jump brought them through the opening above. The princess set Pravin down again, and together they walked through an overgrown grotto toward a light in the distance.

“What will we do now?” Princess Ramani asked.

“This cave should lead us out of the city,” Pravin said. “After that, there’s a Mugger I know that will take us to the mainland. It will be impossible to find us after that.”

“And then?”

“And then we can be happy!” Pravin said, “We will make a new life for ourselves somewhere far, far away where your family cannot reach!”

What in the world am I watching?

Ludmila wrestled with her feelings of disgust over the story’s developments. From what she could tell, a selfish princess was embarking on an unwise elopement. She had killed two of her family’s loyal retainers and an unknown number of local militia, including Captain Patel. Ludmila could only shake her head at the folly on display, praying that it wouldn’t be a bad influence on Lady Aura and Lord Mare.

The two Beastmen’s steps grew lighter and quicker as they approached the exit of the grotto. Then, Pravin’s head exploded.

“Pravin!” Princess Ramani screamed.

A dozen Beastmen emerged from the vegetation surrounding the grotto entrance. Prince Bajirao stepped forward from the encirclement as Princess Ramani collapsed into a sobbing heap.

“It didn’t have to be this way, sister,” the prince said. “You knew very well that this couldn’t be.”

“Damn you, Bajirao! Why did you have to kill him? We were going to be happy together…”

Prince Bajirao sneered at his sister’s grief.

“Your fame and popularity have caused you to forget your place, Ramani,” he told her. “I can only consider it a fortune that this lesson in humility comes at so low a price.”