The Paladin of the Holy Kingdom, Part III: Act 5, Chapter 15
Chapter 15
“How does it look?”
“You know, there’s only so much you can do with a strip of cloth.”
“I know, but I still want to make it look as good as possible.”
Since most people seemed to associate her with her mask, Neia figured she should fix it up a bit. Quite frankly, she was rather embarrassed about it when she got back to Saye’s room and took a good look at herself in a mirror. Since then, she kept making adjustments to it…at least until it fell apart.
The mask on her face was the successor to the first, and she felt that it looked much improved. She turned from side to side, examining the latest round of changes.
“You need professional help,” Saye said.
“What do you mean?”
“Just ask someone to make you a mask,” the Bard told her. “Like Mister Abrigo. He’s a tailor, isn’t he?”
“Ah…I guess I could do that,” Neia said. “I got so obsessed with fixing this thing myself that it didn’t cross my mind.”
Neia removed the mask and stuffed it into her bag. She didn’t know how long it would take to make a new one, but there was probably plenty of time before the next gathering.
“There’s a big session today,” Saye told her.
“Session?”
“Yeah, a court session. Most of the highlords are in the capital now. Duke Debonei arrived last night.”
“How do you know that?” Neia asked.
“The patrons were talking about it last night,” the Bard said as she pulled on a long, white stocking. “I told you that you should have taken up Orlando’s offer. Establishments like this are some of the best places for gathering information.”
Neia imagined herself in Queen Calca’s tight leather outfit, brandishing a whip while she abused information out of a half-naked Noble. She quickly shook the scene out of her head, appalled at her own thoughts.
“I told you I don’t want to prostitute myself.”
Saye released a long sigh.
“And I told you that you don’t have to. Pillow talk is a great way to pull information out of people, but they hardly need any encouragement in establishments like this. They feast and drink and brag nonstop here. This is especially true when you have a whole bunch of young noblemen who feel compelled to make themselves look good in front of everyone else. Being a dealer at a casino table is more than enough.”
“I don’t know…anyways, what did they say? About the session, I mean.”
Commoners weren’t allowed to attend sessions of the Royal Court without an invitation, which she hadn’t received. It made her wonder how she could represent her people’s interests, but, when she thought about it, nothing about what she had to say would sit well with the court’s attendees anyway.
“They called it a ‘general session’,” Saye said. “The Nobles that I heard assumed that it will be about deploying their defensive lines along the northern coast. There’s a lot of speculation and posturing over who gets to command the army and all that.”
“I see,” Neia sat down on their bed. “That sounds like something that the Nobles would do. Were we mentioned at all?”
“Of course not,” the Bard rolled up her other stocking. “Nobles only take credit for things that they think are under their control. We’re more like a wild card for the conservatives.”
“…you know, ever since the Baraja thing, it feels like you’ve made a lot of card references.”
“I haven’t,” Saye told her. “You’re just too sensitive about everything. Don’t you think you should speak with the Duke about the upcoming session?”
“You’re right, but what should I bring up? I don’t think the Nobles would accept what I’ve been speaking about in the city.”
“The royalists definitely wouldn’t, but you should at least see if the conservatives can be aligned with some of your goals.”
“Some?” Neia frowned, “It’s more like everything about the Holy Kingdom needs to change.”
The Bard got up from the bed and shut the room’s tiny window.
“Have it your way,” Saye said. “Let’s go and get your mask done.”
They left The Queen of Thorns and made their way to Mister Abrigo’s home in the eastern quarter. The sound of angry voices preceded their arrival. By the time they turned the corner, however, the voices had ceased and all they saw were the backs of a group of affronted armsmen walking away down the avenue.
Neia opened the door to Mister Abrigo’s shop. The Tailor was standing behind the front counter, arms crossed as he stared at nothing in particular.
“Are you alright, Mister Abrigo?” Neia asked.
“Yeah. Just a bit tired, is all.”
“What did they want?”
“Same story, pretty much,” Mister Abrigo said. “They wanted to order some winter clothing, but we don’t have the materials to fill the order at the price that they want.”
“Isn’t it a bit early for winter clothing?” Saye asked.
“It is,” the Tailor nodded. “They must be up to something if they can’t wait for supplies from the south.”
Neia frowned as she considered the new piece of information.
What were the Nobles fighting over again? Command of the army…deploying defensive lines…winter clothing…can’t wait…
“They’re deploying to Sierra Norte,” she breathed. “They’re planning to create a defensive line in the mountains.”
“Sucks for them,” Saye quipped.
“What do you mean?” Mister Abrigo asked.
“It’s months too soon to be needing winter clothing in most of the Holy Kingdom,” Neia explained. “We learned that the Nobles are planning to deploy their forces to create defensive lines against whatever destroyed this year’s trade fleet. The only place where winter clothing will be necessary anytime soon is in the mountains, which is also an excellent place from which to defend against aquatic threats.”
Just as Humans couldn’t hope to compete against aquatic denizens on the ocean, aquatic species couldn’t hope to fight against Humans deep inland. Ensuring that a stalemate was achieved was the best that the Holy Kingdom could do, and it looked like they were fully committed to doing just that.
“The Corps is already fortifying the mountain passes,” Saye said. “So the Nobles will find themselves late to the show.”
“Is that a problem?” The Tailor asked, “We worked together with them just fine in the Holy Kingdom Liberation Army.”
“It’s a problem because they’re going to want to take over what we’ve established,” Neia said. “They didn’t bother us back then because they needed the Sorcerer King to fight against Jaldabaoth. Our people aren’t going to accept their hard work being stolen from them. Those strongholds are so much more than defensive fortifications to us.”
“Commander Lubo may just flat-out attack them the moment they make any demands,” Saye said. “He hates the Nobles and now he has a way to oppose them directly.”
“We need to get a message to Lloyds,” Neia said. “No, actually, the messenger only needs to make it to the first conservative-controlled town between here and Lloyds. Our people stationed there as scouts can get the message to Lloyds faster than the average civilian can.”
“What are you going to tell them?” Saye asked.
“I’d like to warn our people about what’s happening, at least,” Neia answered. “We need to talk with the conservatives about the details and what sort of arrangements are possible.”
The Corps was more than prepared to fight the royalist forces – especially from their superior defensive positions in Sierra Norte – but she didn’t want to fight them for the wrong reasons. Attacking forces moving to help against a communal threat was an undoubtedly stupid move. It would also cast the Path of Justice’s followers in a bad light.
“Alright,” Neia said, “we should take care of that right away.”
“What about the mask?” Saye asked.
“The mask…?” Neia frowned, “Oh. Erm, Mister Abrigo, could you please make me a new mask? The ones I’m using keep falling apart.”
“And here I thought they held some symbolic meaning,” Mister Abrigo said.
“Symbolic?”
“Yeah, like a representation of the people’s plight or something.”
“That’s pretty poetic,” Saye said.
“You…you think so?” The Tailor scratched his cheek bashfully, then cleared his throat, “I can get one made for you Miss Baraja. How would you like for it to look?”
“Nothing flamboyant, “ Neia replied. “Actually, do you remember the mirror shades that I used during the war?”
“I do,” Mister Abrigo nodded. “I could never figure out what that thing was made out of, but I can get some folks together to make a decent imitation.”
Neia’s eyes widened.
“Really? That’s great! What do I owe you?”
“Honestly, I can’t say how much it would cost until we make it. We’ll need a few different trades working together to get it done. Don’t worry about paying, though.”
“Are you sure about that…?”
“It’ll be made out of scrap and slag, so yeah. Not that it’ll look terrible. We might even be able to get the tint of the glass right.”
Neia thanked Mister Abrigo profusely before crossing the city to exit out of Rimun Gate. Given the news about the general session, the atmosphere in the camps wasn’t as lively as she thought it would be. Maybe they were all waiting for the outcome.
“Hold, woman.”
Two armsmen stopped her at the entrance of Lord Vigo’s camp. One of them brandished his halberd warily while the other approached her.
“I’m here to see Lord Vigo,” she told them.
“I doubt such a suspicious-looking woman has any business with Lord Vigo,” the armsman said. “And why are you armed with a bow?”
“Toss her into the latrine!”
Neia’s hair rose as the armsman grabbed her by the wrist. The voice that barked out the order sounded again.
“Woah! Does one usually heed an order like that without hesitation? I’ll handle her.”
Lord Lugo appeared from behind the armsmen, sporting a wide grin.
“I must wonder how you manage from day to day with troubles like that,” he said.
“Not easily,” Neia grumbled, “but no one’s ever ordered me tossed into a latrine, either.”
“You have my apologies for that, Miss Baraja,” Lord Lugo lowered his head slightly. “There are so many houses camped around Hoburns right now that even everyday affairs have become a competition. Everyone is trying to be at their best in order to impress.”
“To what end, Lord Lugo?” Neia asked.
“I’m sure, by now, you must have heard of the general session,” Lord Lugo said, offering his arm to her. “That is why you have come, yes?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Neia joined the handsome young nobleman. “They say that everyone’s jockeying for leadership positions in the Holy Kingdom’s armies.”
“I suppose that’s one way to put it,” Lord Lugo said. “I also suppose that most would find it a frivolous activity.”
“I don’t think it’s frivolous,” Neia said. “I just don’t understand how debating in court helps decide who is most suited to command.”
“Is that how people imagine it?” The nobleman arched an eyebrow, “While I can’t say the discourse will be entirely absent of politics, the best choices for command are usually clear. The politics part is also something of a given, as it ensures as little friction as possible within army divisions.”
They crossed the well-guarded perimeter of the camp’s core, where Neia found many conservative Nobles lounging beneath the dozens of pavilions scattered across the grounds. Again, there was little sign of overt excitement or anticipation over the coming court proceedings. Most of the noblemen were discussing things quietly or spectating a variety of war games.
“What concerns me, Lord Lugo,” Neia said, “is that there doesn’t seem to be any thought given to how anyone outside of the court feels about those arrangements.”
“It’s not that there aren’t,” Lord Lugo replied. “It’s just that addressing the individual concerns of millions of people is practically impossible. That’s why we have leaders who are counted upon to represent the interests of their houses and their fiefs. Additionally, relying on the opinions of the uninformed and inexperienced is hardly a sound strategy.”
“I know a lot of career soldiers who’ve had less than flattering things to say about the aristocrats they’ve served under,” Neia told him. “My father included.”
“So you’re afraid that whoever the court appoints to command won’t respect the opinions of your people.”
Neia nodded. The troublesome loose ends created by the Corps’ northern campaign aside, that was what she was most worried about.
“We’ve worked hard to build up what we have so far,” Neia said. “Whatever it is that destroyed the trade fleet is our obvious priority, but, if someone appointed by the Royal Court decides to just take everything we’ve created, I can guarantee you that the attempt won’t end well.”
“It’s something that our faction has taken into consideration,” Lord Lugo told her. “The royalists, however, are a different matter entirely. That will be something we’ll have to puzzle out as we go along.”
“So that’s your taste in women, Lugo.”
Neia froze as hundreds of gazes fixed onto her. Lord Lugo shook his head, walking into a nearby pavilion.
“You’re going to find yourself sprouting an arrow, Aston. And not from me.”
“It was a joke,” Lord Aston smiled as he gestured to the cushy seats next to him. “Well, half a joke. Miss Baraja’s name does carry a certain amount of heft these days.”
Lord Lugo rolled his eyes and took a seat next to Lord Aston. Several familiar faces from around Lloyds were present with him.
“She’s not a noblewoman,” Lord Lugo said. “Though, on a not entirely unrelated note, the royalists don’t recognise her at all. That’s something we’re going to have to figure out before this coalition army gets underway.”
“Good afternoon, Lord Aston,” Neia bobbed her head. “Did you just arrive from the north?”
“Not two hours ago,” Lord Aston replied. “Please, there’s no need to stand on ceremony.”
Neia took a seat next to Lord Lugo. Saye appeared on a stool off to the side, plucking idly on the strings of her lute.
“Oh, music,” Lord Aston said. “I didn’t realise how hard it was to find a Bard in the north until recently. All of Hoburns – including the camps – must have a grand total of three.”
“Is Lord Vigo not in the camp?” Neia asked.
“He went to attend the court session with Duke Debonei and several other highlords,” Lord Aston answered.
“It’s already started?”
“This morning.”
“Oh,” Neia said. “I thought that, since everyone was here, nothing was happening.”
The noblemen seated around the pavilion exchanged amused looks. Neia frowned, wondering if some joke was being made at her expense.
“There are ten thousand houses camped around Hoburns, Miss Baraja,” Lord Lugo explained. “Trying to squeeze everyone into the session would be…well, the high hall of Hoburns is designed to accommodate several hundred, at most.”
“It would give a quite literal meaning to the ‘stuffy Nobles’ thing I hear once in a while,” Lord Aston smirked. “Only the High Nobles are attending the session. The rest of us wait for the results out here just like everyone else, unless one is specifically called upon for one thing or another.”
That made sense. Neia had attended at least two court sessions in the past – once during her training as a Squire and the other during the awards ceremony after the war – so she should have realised not everyone would have been able to fit.
“Does anyone know what it’s about?” Neia asked, “All we’ve heard were rumours about mobilising the Holy Kingdom’s armies to the north. From the armsmen that we’ve observed in the city, the royalists look like they’re preparing for it, as well.”
“That’s the general assumption,” Lord Aston nodded. “It is an assumption, though. We should know what the assembly was called for by the end of the day.”
“If it is,” Neia said, “doesn’t that mean it’s too late to change what they decide on? I didn’t even get to say anything…”
Lord Aston snorted.
“It’s far from too late. While ‘general session’ sounds like a single event, this is, in reality, the first session of the general session. We’re looking at the general session lasting anywhere between two weeks and a month, with follow-up sessions throughout the autumn and winter.”
“But…isn’t that far too long? What if we’re attacked while they deliberate?”
“That’s the way the world works, is it not?” Lord Aston said, “One either ensures that they are prepared to move, or they are forced to move with what preparations they’ve made. I don’t think this is something unique to the nobility.”
“The sheer scale of the effort means that it will take at least that long,” Lord Lugo told her. “This defence of the northern coast will tie up at least half a million of the Holy Kingdom’s citizens and we must assume that our sea lanes cannot be used. New logistics must be hammered out; new infrastructure must be raised and maintained. The Royal Court is not so much deliberating as it is ensuring that we don’t all die of starvation, exposure, and disease a month into the campaign.”
“Which is where you and your followers may come in handy,” Lord Aston said.
Neia’s eyes went over to the other nobleman.
“Handy?”
“If we understand it correctly,” Lord Aston said, “your people have already laid down the foundations of the infrastructure that the army needs in Sierra Norte. Between that and the soldiers you’ve stationed there, you can offer a contribution that the Royal Court has no choice but to respect. Ideally, this should also tie up all of the loose ends that have cropped up in recent weeks.”
“That would be nice if it’s true,” Neia replied. “But will it be so straightforward? We sort of waged an unofficial war along the northern coast.”
“It should be,” Lord Lugo said. “At least in my eyes, you’ve more than adequately justified your actions, plus you’ve observed the conventions of war. I’m not sure whether you’ve done so by accident or not, but you’ve been playing by the rules of the establishment. Once the matter of your hostages has been settled, you have a done deal.”
“Assuming they haven’t eaten the hostages,” Lord Aston added.
“We didn’t eat them,” Neia bristled. “If that’s the case, I should get a message to my people. May I borrow one of your couriers?”
“Of course, Miss Baraja. You can find everything you need to pen your missive at the desk over there.”
Neia felt much better once her message was on its way. When she left the camp, Lord Aston tried to keep Saye, but the Bard insisted on sticking with her.
“Are you sure about that?” Neia asked, “I’m happy that you want to stay with me, but you could have made a lot of money.”
“It’s not like Bards particularly care about money,” Saye said. “It’s just something that you get if you’re good at what you do.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon preparing for her daily meeting. Unfortunately, her new mask wasn’t done yet, but Mister Abrigo ended up stitching together something much more workable than what she had to use in the meanwhile.
As evening approached, she made her way to the gathering in the northern quarter. Several volunteer organisers came up to her when she entered the courtyard nestled in a ring of workshops.
“Miss Baraja,” the leader said. “We have a problem.”
“A problem?” Neia blinked.
“The turnout for this evening looks like it’s going to be far more than anticipated.”
“Oh, that kind of problem. It’s a good problem to have, I think. Something like that happened yesterday, and there were no issues moving the gathering to one of the plazas. Well, the Nobles dispersed us in the end, but everything was peaceful.”
“I heard about that. In that case, we’re going to have to use the main plaza.”
“Eh?”
The northern quarter’s market plaza was quite large. If it was necessary to host their function, just how many were coming?
“How did we end up with so many people?” Neia asked.
“Word of mouth, as far as I can tell. The folks who heard you the other day went to get the people they knew from around the city. I hear the people from the eastern quarter are doing it, too.”
“I see. Please thank everyone for their enthusiasm and hard work.”
This is a good thing. It has to be.
What she most feared was that the residents of Hoburns would be entirely apathetic to her words, just as the people had been in some of the worst towns on the northern coast. Instead, the truth was spreading rapidly. The people were hungry for justice.
They had to wait for the Merchants in the main plaza to pack up their stands before setting up their makeshift platform on one side of the square. As twilight faded, dozens, then hundreds of people started filtering in to gather around her. Only a handful carried torches, and most of them came forward to help illuminate the platform. Neia could only guess at how many people there were in the dim lighting before she stepped up onto her wooden platform.
Neia took a deep breath, looking up at the field of stars overhead. She would have to do the same thing that she had outside of Lloyds for her voice to reach everyone properly.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming to hear me at this late hour. I’m happy to see so many new faces; happy to see that the citizens of Hoburns still yearn for–”
“That will be quite enough.”
A man’s voice clashed with hers. Neia frowned in confusion, looking for its source. Out of the far corner of the square, two rows of torches appeared, cutting their way through the crowd. As they came closer, Neia made out a column of fully-equipped armsmen. It took her a moment to recognise Eduardo Cohen leading them, flanked by four Knights. He looked up at Neia from the pavement at the base of her stand as his armsmen created a cordon around them.
“Faceless One,” he said in an authoritative tone that was neither angry nor otherwise excited, “stand down and disperse your followers.”
“But we just got here,” Neia said. “And we haven’t done anything wrong!”
“You are disrupting the order of the city,” the lordling told her. “Additionally, you are to come with us for questioning.”
“What! Why?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“I said we haven’t done anything wrong!”
“That is for the authorities to determine. I pray, for your sake, that you choose to cooperate.”
The air fell still as they stared at one another in tense silence. She already knew enough about the royalists that it wouldn’t just end with ‘questioning’.
“I refuse,” Neia said. “I haven’t–”
“Seize her.”
Two of the Knights stepped onto the platform. Neia backed away, slapping aside their grasping gauntlets. She breathed a sigh of relief as the Knights looked to one another and backed off. Then, she and Saye let out a cry as they upended the platform. Before she could get back to her feet, the two other Knights grabbed her by the arms.
“L-Let me go!” Neia squirmed, “I haven’t done anything wrong!”
Her booted heels scraped against the cobblestones as the Knights dragged her around the toppled platform. Voices of protest started to rise around them.
“What are you doing, you thugs!”
“The Faceless One is right! We haven’t done anything wrong!”
“Is it a crime to stand on the street?”
“Get out of our city, you parasites!”
The crowd pressed in, pushing against the cordon of armsmen. Lord Eduardo turned around and stilled them with a look.
“Know that we have come at the behest of House Lagoa, which has been granted authority over this district by the Crown. Oppose us at your own peril.”
Neia dug in her heels as she continued to struggle against the two Knights. Her struggling seemed to snap her closest followers out of their paralysis, and they resumed their attempts to intervene. Lord Eduardo sighed and raised his hand.
“Wait!” Neia cried, “No one do anything! Don’t give them an excuse to retaliate!”
Dammit, I hate this!
As usual, the royalists had the upper hand when everyone had to play by their rules. Seemingly anything could become a justification to act in favour of their interests.
“Are you two truly having so much trouble with a mere woman?” Lord Eduardo frowned at Neia and the two Knights.
“She’s pretty strong, Lord Eduardo.”
“Is that so? Release her.”
Neia lost her balance and fell on her butt. A hand took her by her wrist, pulling her back to her feet.
Wh-what is this?! He’s so strong!
Neia knew that Lord Eduardo was more dangerous than Sir Torres back after her duel with the Knight, but she had no idea that Lord Eduardo was so powerful. The nobleman showed absolutely no sign of exertion. He wasn’t yanking her or even being rough. She was just being helplessly pulled forward as if she were nothing but a little girl.
“S-Stop! Let go! You can’t do this!”
She may as well have been protesting against a boulder. All around her, her followers bit their lips and wore tormented expressions as they had little choice but to watch her get dragged away.
Suddenly, the pulling stopped. The hand holding her wrist was in turn being held around the wrist by someone else.
“You’ve overstepped the bounds of your authority.”
Neia stared, wide-eyed at the new voice. Her gaze followed the plate-encased arm up to see the sigil of the Holy Order emblazoned on a pristine white scapular.
“Sister Custodio,” Lord Eduardo said. “I assure you that we are well within our rights to apprehend this woman. She has a well-documented history of cultivating resentment against the authorities.”
“It isn’t a crime to speak one’s mind in the Holy Kingdom,” Remedios said. “Release this citizen. Immediately.”
A Paladin standing behind Neia caught her as she was suddenly released. To Neia’s shock, Lord Eduardo shook away Remedios’ hand.
“The Royal Court will hear of this, Sister Custodio.”
“So what?”
Lord Eduardo turned away at Remedios’ unbothered reply. He and his men left the square as quickly as they had arrived. Neia stared incredulously at her unexpected saviour.
“You saved me,” she said. “Why?”
Neia flinched as Remedios turned her sharp-eyed gaze on her.
“Six years a Squire,” Remedios said. “Yet, in all that time, you never managed to grasp the meaning of justice.”
An ember of anger ignited within Neia. Remedios dared to speak of justice? To her?
Remedios shook her head at Neia’s furious expression.
“We swore an oath to uphold the justice of the Holy Kingdom, Baraja,” she told her. “To protect the country and its citizens against threats from without and within.”
“…but I thought you hated me.”
“Why does that matter?” Remedios frowned, “Justice is blind, Baraja. It doesn’t defer to preference or bend for convenience. There are no exceptions; no concessions. That means we don’t purposely slaughter hostages or put arrows into our own children, by the way. It’s too bad that damn Sorcerer King corrupted you to the point that you’ve replaced justice with all those empty ideas about ‘strength’.”
How dare you?! The Sorcerer King is justice!
Neia trembled in fury as Remedios spoke. What right did she have to say anything? She was weak, and the weak should humbly accept the justice of the Sorcerer King.
“It seems that my words are wasted on you,” Remedios said. “Well, you can’t say I never tried. Have a good evening, Miss Baraja.”
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