Chapter 30 #2
“Half-Forian,” I corrected him. “She had not yet been born, thus holds no blame in that war, and in the decades since we have made great inroads into our relationship with Foria.”
Olivar shook his head mutely. “And if we do not sign?” he asked bitterly. “Will you also condemn us to death, as you did the lai Orros boy?”
“Alvar received only what he was due. Rasmus was given a chance to redeem himself.” I watched the noblemen, each silently panicking in his own way, and the scent of Esteri’s growing fear was a banquet for the senses.
“I shall not exile you, no…but you would be stunned at the tariffs and taxes levied upon your houses. These pearls alone…my gods, I could swim in the gold you’d have to pay in tariffs and port fees and authentication fees—truly, there is an entire world of fees out there, lurking just out of sight.
All entirely within my rights, I assure you; perhaps it was careless of you to grant nearly unfettered powers to your overlords in the Accords.
Your people might have considered that we are not trained animals to serve your personal desires. ”
“I want an amendment to taxation laws,” Nathanael said immediately, sweating profusely; he shook off Esteri’s clutching hand, slapping at her when she didn’t release his sleeve.
“No.”
The single word echoed through the room, and I saw their fault-lines as clear as day; they would break.
Whether now or later, whether in a cell, or when their coffers were emptied, or they were exiled to other lands, they would break.
I smiled again, feeling truly relaxed for the first time in three weeks.
“You will sign it as it is, with this single amendment. Or you will discover what it means to struggle and scrape for every clipped copper, as your coffers will eventually be mine. You will not trade outside the Rivers without feeling…oh, not a pinch in your purse, no. Let’s call it a slaughter.
I will gut your earnings. You will fervently pray every year to find a way to scrape through taxes.
By the time you’re wearing rags and living on gruel, you’ll wish you had made this tiny concession, and had the chance to redeem your shame.
But, should you sign it, I will not drive your families into the poorhouse.
You may rest assured that you are watched until the day you die, and a blood oath will certainly be taken, but you may live more or less as you were.
For her sake I offer this, because unlike me, she is not a vengeful bastard bent on your destruction. ”
Nathanael swallowed audibly. “You are terrible. A Light-forsaken, slut-dropped, tyrant of a beast.”
I pushed the Accords towards him. “And yet…you people chose me anyway.”
Nathanael picked up the quill.
“Neatly done, though I question the wisdom in not at least considering the Sere Isle for the lot of them.”
I shrugged, neatly stacking the freshly-signed Blood Accords and admiring them.
“I’d rather have them where I can keep an eye on them, and tax them when they’re feeling frisky.
Nothing will keep a tighter leash on them than the threat to their riches.
Beyond that, Marrion is putting a hell of a blood oath on them.
She was quite excited to try it, which probably means they’ll wish Sere had been an option. ”
Bram made a sound deep in his throat. “And surely it had nothing to do with ensuring you didn’t propose with blood still on your hands.”
I looked at my hands, resting on the receipt for the pearls that the lai Auvrays had left behind in their haste to escape. “Ah, but I’ve grown soft in my old age. Time was I would’ve painted these walls red, and never given a thought to the cost.”
“Well, you could put it that way, or you could just say you’ve matured.” Bram sniffed.
“No. I simply met someone…who made me want to be a better man. A worthy one. And perhaps her way is right. Alvar will be alone, and I will not make martyrs of these people.”
I pushed the receipt aside. Somewhere below me in the bowels of Owlhorn, every nobleman in that group, with the exception of lai Veil, had been herded into a room where Marrion would take their blood and bind it into a charm.
Should I ever feel that they posed a threat to me or mine, I would sever them from life as easily as breaking a piece of glass.
But, if they chose to throw away their spears and live in peace, or some facsimile of it, I would allow them to carry on.
One day, maybe soon, I hoped I would awaken to find the next generation less full of hate, less vitriolic towards those even slightly different from them, and then I might feel ready to move on and see the next thing in life, leaving this place in new hands.
But only with Jesamin at my side, the woman who had cured that burning vengeance in my heart.
I no longer hated. I simply felt weary of their games and deceits, and wished for something better—and she was the one whose vision guided that path.
“A better man? You’ve been worthy all along,” Bram said, his eyes kind.
Except…
“But perhaps not too much better,” I mused. I finally had his full name, thanks to lai Auvray.
Renaud fel Telyr, the vampire who had tried to force Jesamin to serve his selfish desires, and had broken her heart for it in the end. How dare the little ratfuck make her feel less than she was? He should be so lucky as to lick her boots.
“Renaud fel Telyr. Find his legion, and send out a special assignment for him. I want him stationed on the Austral Lighthouse, for, oh, let’s say a year or so.” I chuckled, my tail swishing with glee.
It was a nightmarish little rock in the southern waters of the Eridan Sea, and the ‘lighthouse’ itself was hardly more than a pillar of basalt rising from the waves.
Most duty tours on Austral lasted only six months, lest the knights manning it begin to mentally fracture beneath the weight of endless isolation, with nothing to accompany their thoughts but the unceasing roar of the ocean.
But a keeper was needed to maintain the lanterns and guide the ships, and fel Telyr sounded like the perfect man for the job.
Bram sighed. “Very well, perhaps you’re still a bit rough around the edges, but who isn’t after a few centuries?
Also, you might want to consider that your bride-to-be was planning on leaving the Rivers, according to your niece, so if you’re thinking of a proposal…
right now would be a good time to spring that on her. ”
“I concur, Uncle. It’s really quite cruel to keep Jes waiting.
” Marrion leaned in the doorway, resplendent in dark robes.
She held up a handful of glass charms, similar to the ones she made for tracking, but these ones glowed with a dark light.
She handed them over with a sigh. “Oh, I wish I could’ve been here to see the fruits of my labor.
Perhaps I should find work as a spy next. It’s rather agreeable.”
I took the charms, depositing them in a box Bram had made for this very purpose. Nobody but myself could open it, thus ensuring their lives were safe so long as they constrained themselves from plotting against me. “It was impressive, but your parents would likely take issue with that.”
The papers retrieved from Alvar’s belongings were entirely legitimate, absolute proof of the Spear of Justice’s treachery, and the main players in their game. But they had smelled of nothing more than Jesamin’s sweat and the dank mineral tang of the Below.
It was Marrion who had slipped into their houses by night, utilizing the All-Seeing Eye to look at their past echoes.
She had picked out faces, memorized names, and watched the memory-residue of every move they made.
Plenty of damning evidence beyond that of treason had come to light; I would keep most of it in my pocket for a day when these mules might need to be lashed back into line.
After Marrion’s ethically murky—well, pitch-black—spywork, it was with the research of a vampire liaison, Auré fel Seren, that the full web the nobility had woven was painstakingly reconstructed, and then fel Seren had been happy to dig into every single law, amendment, and agreement that might affect my revenge spree of taxation.
“I think my parents would be quite pleased if I was a successful spy. Although they wouldn’t be able to brag of it without ruining my career, so perhaps not,” Marrion mused. “Why are you still standing here, Uncle?”
“Hmm?” I looked up, realizing I’d been fiddling with the box, which was completely locked and charmed.
“You are here,” she said slowly. “Jesamin is there.” She pointed out the window, in the complete opposite direction of the fel Arron lands. “This is not as it should be.”
“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” Bram blurted.
I glared at him, then sighed. “I am. She’s a Master Artificer.
She destroyed Liuridar using wildly occult Artifice no one’s ever seen before, and no Fae will ever awaken again in this hold.
She rescued Líadan, salvaged a repository of Fae language, and went to the ends of the world to save her people, risking life and limb and sanity.
What do I bring to this union, besides a castle? ”
“Well…” Bram considered. “Yes, I would be nervous, too.”
“By all the gods.” Marrion rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Uncle…go. Just go. It’s you she wants, not the damn castle.”
“I noticed.” I growled it, thinking of the empty room in the Tower of Waves that still smelled of warm skin and honey soap. “She owns a whole tower of it, and she still left.”
“She’s not going to say no,” Marrion said, staring into my eyes like she was trying to light me on fire with willpower alone. “And if you keep stalling, I shall have to declare a new favorite uncle, and that will truly put a damper on the ceremony.”
I let out a laugh, looking at the Accords as a weight slid off my shoulders. It was real. The names were signed, the seals stamped, and I was free to choose.
“Don’t go making hasty declarations yet,” I said, but my feet were already moving to the door.
“Good luck,” Bram called, but I didn’t hear Marrion’s reply, because I was moving faster. Into a fast walk, a jog, and finally, as the guards saw me coming and opened the doors, I dropped into a full gallop on all fours.
Racing southeast, to go collect my wife.