Chapter 217: Fracture XXII

Chapter 217: Fracture XXII

Beautiful view, isnt it? Balan asked. Rather fortuitously, hed been the one to suggest the balcony. Same as the rest of the noble houses, his considerable estate sat near the highest point of the city, providing us with a birds-eye-view of the sprawling valley of middle commons, the denizens of Topside and its more perilous infrastructure smaller than ants. He was taking this opportunity to seize control of the negotiations, and for the moment, I let him. The only tell that he was nervous at all was the rippling of his wine, the glass held in an otherwise steadfast hand. Truly the jewel of Uskar.

Built on the backs of the less fortunate. I quipped, instilling apathy in my voice.

It was part of what made Thoths demeanor work. I was sure of it. Violence and tragedy excited her. Everything else was boring. It forced whoever she was dealing with to hold the conflicting positions of attempting to keep her attention whilst simultaneously steering the discussion away from that which she desired most. In most cases it was a losing battle.

But Balan was unbothered. Unlike the many softer nobles, his wealth and success had been hard earned. Despicable trade and inhumane methods aside, he had managed to do what so many bandit kings and mercenary slavers hadntspin the accumulated blood-wealth and resources into legitimacy. My father had always spoken poorly of him but did little else. And considering how often the King killed those who annoyed him, I was beginning to understand the reason. n0ve(l)bi(n.)co/m

An odd observation coming from one benefitting so richly from the inequity they decry. Balan cocked his head, then smiled ruefully. But theres truth to it. In any walk of life there are victors and victims. Winners and losers. And despite more modern concepts of fairness, it is unfortunately rare that a pivotal loss by ones ancestors does not incur a generational debt. Just as your fathers many victories have won you the very privilege you loathe.

The small part of me that wasnt completely immersed in the role was tempted to engage with him. He was clearly armoring up for a debate, seeding points to draw from later, outlining the inherent hypocrisy of my position. At the very least, it would have been interesting to see how he rationalized his position. But such an exercise would be pointless. His beliefs and mineat a fundamental levelwere completely incompatible. He enslaved people and sold them for profit. The concept of slavery never felt right to me long before Id ever met a Demi-human.

It was better to play this Thoths way.

I leaned back on my chair and tapped the stem of my untouched glass with the edge of the sword breaker, producing an idle ting. Did we come here to talk philosophy, or negotiate?

Balan breathed a long-suffering sigh. We are negotiating. You started the conversation the moment you invaded my home.

Hm. Are you sure? There wasnt much talking involved. I mused idly, tapping the glass again, enjoying the flash of irritation across his face.

To his credit, he didnt lose composure or lash out. Instead, he sat down across from me and steepled his fingers. Absolutely. The chosen methoda violent incursion, conveys intent and gravity. It also serves as a cold reminder that you have a regiment of well-trained men under your command, and those men are loyal enough to follow even when led into an unsanctioned conflict with a powerful and well-connected noble house. He hesitated for a half-second, then pressed on. The fact that there were no casualties in the conflict speaks to careful coordination and considerable restraint.

I thought it was mercy.

Balan sat very still, then shook his head.

No? I goaded him.

Even for someone of my experience, its easy to conflate them. Balan mused. They hold many similarities. But when you wrested my nephew from the ground and held the blade to his throat, I realized my mistake. No maneven one with aspirations of leniencewould place themselves in that position if there was even the slightest chance theyd be forced to back down.

Maybe Im a gambler. I rotated the sword breaker idly.

I might have wondered the same. Balan admitted. But there was no bluff in your eyes. Just challenge. One you genuinely hoped was tried and proven. Like your father in his golden era, youre a soldier. And there are two types of soldiers. Those who fell enemies because they are at war, and those who kill simply because it is required. You are the latter. And you would have slit that boys throat in a second.

My smile was brittle. Since we understand each other so well, perhaps we can reach an accord.

The end of indentured servitude and dissolution of your house? I poked at him.

will take a great deal of time to oversee. He finished unhappily. And given the princesss rather imminent circumstances, I suggest we table the longer discussion for a later date.

How convenient.

In the meantime. Balan emphasized through grit teeth, I will provide the princesss location as a show of good faith, alongside a gift, to signify that there is no bad blood between us. Whatever I stood to gain from the engagement is clearly not worth what Ill lose.

Hmm. I rubbed my chin, then glanced up at Maya. Maybe it was petty, but Balan didnt seem to like it much when I included her in the conversation. How do we feel about gifts?

Depends on the gift. Maya said blankly.

True. I turned back to Balan. Start with the location. Then Ill evaluate this offering.

Two of Balans attendants exited the balcony and disappeared into the house, flanked by members of my regiment. His remaining attendant placed a piece of parchment and an ink quill on the table before him. Balan wrote, muttering as he did so. The princess is being kept in a nondescript building on the edge of Topside that houses some of our more precious goods in proximity to the southern exit.

I thought back to Kilviuss ledger. Thered been about fifteen listings, a reasonable number to memorize. And if memory served, there was only one listing at that location.

Gold and furs, right?

Balan stopped writing directions mid-sentence and slowly looked up. What?

The warehouse. House Westmore uses it to store gold surplus and furs. A small fortunes worth, if the books are accurate. I asked again.

How did you He trailed off, paling, mouth working in a silent stammer. In the far distance a building was consumed in violet fire, flames reaching up towards the horizon where the sun was setting. Balan was many things, but he wasnt stupid. The moment I set the spurs to him hed started looking for an escape, and failing that, a way to stall until my father arrived to save him. Like so many entitled lords, he was used to living in a world where people bent over backwards to please him, and he had all the time in the world to come up with a solution when faced with a problem he didnt like.

Now that I wasnt telling him what he wanted to hear, he was getting greedy, assuming my father would check me for overreach. For all I knew, he might have been right. And this was a straightforward method of communicating a simple truth.

Now that I wasnt telling him what he wanted to hear, he was getting greedy. Assuming my father would check me for overreach. For all I knew, he might have been right. And this was a straightforward method of communicating a simple truth.

Stalling would cost him everything.

Youre insane. Balan whispered. Frail as he looked, even the slightest breeze might push him over the railing.

I steepled my fingers. Now. Lets try this again.