Instead of sleeping in a warm, cozy guest room in the luxurious Caer Yviredh, we got to camp amid the damp khora and really enjoy that crisp autumn chill up close. I didn’t regret the decision, though, because while I had hammered out a foundational agreement for my alliance with Clan Yviredh, we were a long way from establishing mutual trust. I didn’t exactly expect them to try to slit our throats in our sleep—and Biribo would have made that a futile attempt anyway—but I preferred to both conceal our numbers and preserve our element of surprise.

The less they knew about what I was doing or could do, the better. They knew I could crack their security like a soft-boiled egg, and for now that was what mattered.

“What’s that symbol on those pennants?” I asked Nazralind while we lurked in the khora in the damp chill of the early morning, staring at the distant village with the manor rising up atop the hill behind it. The view was actually quite picturesque, especially with Ephemera’s oddly-colored sky. “It reminds me of a kanji, but I can’t read it.”

“Ah, that’s their Clan sigil,” she explained. “Why did you expect to be able to read it?”

“Blessing of Wisdom,” Biribo said pointedly.

“Oh! Right, I always forget about that. Sorry, Lord Seiji, that’s a rare Blessing—I don’t think I’ve actually met anyone else who has it. But no, sigils are a Fflyr artistic tradition that goes back to before the Liberation. They start as glyphs, but you arrange them on top of each other instead of in a line and then adjust the lines according to the traditional rules of the art till you get something that looks less jumbled and more…well, decorative. Every Clan has a sigil on their heraldry that’s made from the glyphs for words they think represent them, but making sigils out of glyphs is one of the traditional arts and they get put on everything. Buildings, clothes, book covers… Most noblewomen are taught to do it. I’m surprised you haven’t seen more of them, Lord Seiji.”

“I largely haven’t been hanging around with highborn.”

“Fair point. Are, ah, kanji a similar art form?”

“No, they’re a form of writing, like Fflyr glyphs. Our written language uses two alphabetic scripts for its syllabary, one for native words and one for loanwords because we’ve imported a lot of vocabulary. Then we also have kanji, which are an older writing system where a single symbol represents a whole word.”

She blinked. “That sounds…incredibly convoluted.”

“Hey, Fflyr isn’t much better. You may only have one alphabet but you’re still using two different writing systems. Where my mother’s from, they use a script with two alphabets and no whole-word symbols. One of the alphabets is barely even used, it just designates proper nouns and the beginnings of sentences.”

“Now that just sounds like all the worst of both ideas. Writing anything out must take reams of paper if you have to spell the whole word phonetically every time.”

“I’ve been wondering why the dual system in written Fflyr, by the way. The two don’t even look like they were designed by the same culture.”

“They weren’t,” said Biribo. “Fflyr is written using the high elven alphabetic script that originated in what’s now Lancor and the glyphs are remnants of Savin writing. This whole country’s history is made of the push and pull between those two cultures, up until the landbridge collapsed and Savindar was cut off. For centuries before that they were both trying to colonize these islands. Lots of back and forth, most of it unfriendly.”

“That’s why Caer Yviredh is all straight lines and ninety-degree angles, when Fflyr architecture is all about natural khora shapes,” Nazralind added, nodding toward the manor on the distant hill. “It’s been remodeled multiple times and those definitely aren’t the original outer walls, but that’s an ancient Lancoral fort. Nearly all the Clan fortresses predate the kingdom itself, on this island at least. Clans like to set themselves up on top of water sources, Spirits, and other points of interest, and there were usually fortifications already around those for the same reason.”

“Mm.” I rubbed my chin, peering thoughtfully up at the manor. In the middle distance, the village was waking up, people beginning to disperse into the surrounding fields. “Should I have one of these sigils?”

“I thought the whole point of being the Dark Lord is you can do business however you want,” said Aster.

“What she said,” Nazralind agreed. “But having one will make Fflyr respect you more, if you decide that matters to you. If you want a sigil, I can make one for you, Lord Seiji. You’d just have to decide what glyphs to use. So, between two and five describing…well, you. Your aims, virtues, personal fixations, whatever you’d choose to emphasize.”

“Slimes and whores!” Kastrin suggested.

Aster clamped a hand over her mouth, almost doubling over with suppressed laughter; there was no end of braying and cackling from less discreet comrades behind us.

“That’s some top-notch lurking, ladies,” I said acidly, turning to sweep a glare across the group. “Did you all simultaneously forget we are trying to be quiet?”

“They’d best remember quickly,” said Biribo. “Our guests of honor are heading this way.”

“Get it together,” Aster said sharply, as if she hadn’t been laughing almost as hard two seconds ago. “Focus up, girls, it’s time to work.”

We couldn’t all be familiars; it was a couple more minutes before our visitors rode into sight over the hill, by which time everybody had pulled themselves together. I examined them through the very handy spyglass I had “inherited” from the late and unlamented Lord Arider.

“Who’re the riders?” Nazralind asked from behind and above me, having hopped into her saddle.

“Hm,” I grunted, lowering and collapsing the little telescope. “Interesting choice… Almost the whole family. That’s Adver, Elidred and Ediver on horseback—oh, they named him a combination of their names, I just got that. Only left Avelit at home, poor kid. Ahem, and four soldiers on foot. That’s gotta be half their Clansguard.”

“Why on foot?” Kastrin asked, adjusting her mask into place. “They can’t be going far if they expect them to keep up with horses.”

“Well, we assumed they were going to lead us into the khora,” said Nazralind. “Horses are no good on that terrain. They’d break a leg within ten paces.”

She patted Newneh’s neck smugly, earning a soft chirp of approval. Indeed, while gwynneks couldn’t match horses for either top speed or endurance on flat ground, they could go places horses simply could not, and go faster in those places than even the best scouts. Their long, sinuous bodies could navigate very tight gaps, their clawed feet had excellent purchase almost everywhere, and best of all their little stubby wings had grasping fingers on the joints; the birds could climb better than humans, and even glide for short descents, even with a rider. No one and nothing would outpace gwynneks through dense, wild khora.

Now that I had a squad of gwynnek riders, I planned to make full use of this capability. In fact, it was central to my strategy for the next phase of the campaign.

“You all know your jobs,” I said quietly, watching the Yrivedhs approach. “Stealth is paramount; stay just close enough to keep track of us, and keep your eyes peeled ahead. You’ll undoubtedly spot our target before we do. Move to surround them as soon as you have their location and wait for my signal.”

“You can count on us, Lord Seiji,” Nazralind promised, echoed by murmurs of assent from the rest of the squad.

I nodded at her, and stepped forward with only Aster and Kastrin flanking me, while the riders and the majority of my crusaders on foot began melting away into the khora. We waited in the open while the party approached us, alert but not tense; the guards, at least, were armed, but I was not expecting an attack. Even when, as the group drew close enough, I could discern open distrust and dislike on the face of the Clansguard.

One of them I recognized: Adelly had shot him in the face with a tranquilizer dart last night. He was glaring more intensely than the others. Fair enough, guy.

“Lord Seiji.” Adver reined in his horse with a little difficulty; all three animals started to appear nervous as they approached, prancing and snorting. Oh, right, they probably smelled the gwynneks. “I appreciate your punctuality.”

“And I yours, Highlord Adver,” I replied politely. Politely, but without offering any heirat gesture, to the visible disapproval of the accompanying Clansguard and his wife. “I’m a little surprised to see most of the family, considering the day’s itinerary.”

“My son is at an age to begin participating in the business of his Clan,” Adver replied, “whatever that business might happen to be. He will need to administer the affairs of Clan Yviredh himself one day.”

Behind him, Ediver’s expression fell, for which I couldn’t blame him; despite his father’s statement, the actual plan was for Ediver’s inheritance to go to someone else to preserve the Yviredh name. At least he didn’t have long to welter in disappointment, having to quell his mount’s sudden desire to dance away. The boy was evidently a skilled rider, anyway.

“And, unconventional as it may seem, I am in the habit of including my wife in those of my affairs from which law and custom do not actively prohibit her involvement,” Adver added, giving her a fond look. “There is no one whose opinion I value more.”

“I do not fear those to whom we have offered shelter and tolerance,” said Lady Elidred, lifting her chin. “Besides, it’s not as if we are helpless, Lord Seiji. I presume you do not object to the presence of our Clansguard—”

She, too, had to break off, reining in her mare as the horse tried to rear, snorting and laying her ears back. The gwynneks had to be gone by now…but I guess they couldn’t have gone far, since my people needed to stay close enough to follow us.

“Not at all,” I replied, stepping forward and raising a hand, ignoring the two guards who grabbed the hilts of their swords at my approach. The horse rolled its eyes, jerking its head away, and Elidred grimaced as she fought for control.

Tame Beast.

It was one of the less flashy spells, the visible effect only occurring in the eyes of the horse itself, easy to miss if you weren’t looking right at them. The mare immediately stilled, facing me directly with her ears alertly forward.

“There you go, girl, it’s all right,” I murmured, reaching up to stroke her long face. “Nothing to worry about.” Huh. A horse’s nose was a lot softer than I would’ve thought. And those teeth were a lot less scary to someone who’d recently been getting accustomed to gwynneks.

“How did—” Lady Elidred leaned to her left to stare at me in consternation past the horse’s neck. “Mehnny does not like strangers.”

“Well, I’ve heard animals are good judges of character,” I said innocently, then winked at her. “I guess we just learned otherwise, eh?”

Elidred’s eyebrows drew together. She clearly didn’t find me amusing, but I got the feeling I had just scored some points, at least.

Highlord Adver dismounted, handing his reins to one of his soldiers, and a moment later his son followed suit. I backed away, yielding room as he stepped over to help his wife down from her saddle. Lady Elidred was clearly a skilled enough rider that she didn’t need his assistance, but I found the chivalry of the gesture more charming than I wanted to admit. This country—this planet—was such an unmitigated shitshow most of the time that every little touch of wholesomeness was precious, even from people whom I didn’t want to like and actively resented how fast they were making me like them against my will.

Two of the Clansguard peeled off, leading the three horses away by their reins, and I had to wonder what had been the point of the highborn riding such a short distance to meet me. Well, Nazralind had said that aristocrats were keenly conscious of appearances, often to the detriment of sense.

“Well, then,” said Adver, so obviously resigned but trying to put a positive face on it that I had to wonder if he was doing it on purpose, “let us not dawdle amid the cold dew. If you will follow me, Lord Seiji, I’ll show you to the camp.”

I glanced at Elidred and Ediver. “I gather it must not be far?”

“Not terribly, no,” he agreed, starting into the khora. I saw, now, that there was a faint but distinct game trail leading into the shadows beneath the huge shells and fronds; the Highlord stepped directly onto this. “Honesty compels me to acknowledge that nothing within my domain is terribly far from anything else. One can comfortably patrol the entire fief several times within a day.”

His wife walked alongside him, holding his arm, which was tight but there was space for two to walk abreast so long as both were careful of their feet. I fell into step right behind them, Aster and Kastrin sticking to my back, and I didn’t see how Ediver and the two remaining soldiers arranged themselves.

“I must say I’m surprised at how much you seem to trust these bandits on your property,” I commented.

“Oh?”

“I doubt I would lead most of my family right into the lair of a criminal gang with only two guards to protect us.”

“I am far from helpless!” Ediver said stridently from the near distance behind me. Indeed, he wore the rapier at his waist with the ease of someone accustomed to its weight, though I had a sneaking suspicion he was a less deadly combatant than he believed.

“I believe I told you, Lord Seiji, that I have no fear of men to whom my family has offered succor,” Elidred said pointedly, glancing over her shoulder at me.

“Perhaps that’s what puzzles me,” I mused aloud. “The…nature of your relationship with this group.”

The big question I had for them the night before was exactly how they had gotten in touch with Lady Gray, since the Yviredhs seemed generally too squeamish to involve themselves with criminals and it wasn’t like she publicized her address. As it turned out, Clan Yviredh paid a small, discreet tribute to Clan Olumnach, as did all of their neighbors, ensuring they were left alone by the little bandit gangs which dotted this part of the island. The Yviredhs, however, went several steps further. Whereas most gangs had to eke out their own survival in the deep khora, bladegrass, or wherever else nobody cared enough to enforce the law, Clan Yviredh allowed this small crew to live unmolested on their own claimed land, far enough into the khora to ensure them some privacy but well within striking distance had they chosen to launch an attack. Not only that, but they weren’t relegated to subsisting on what they could scrounge or steal. The Clan themselves discreetly sent them food and other supplies.

That explained why the bandits had been willing to introduce them to the Gwyllthean criminal element, and perhaps why they were comfortable coming here with me—though I suspected that also had to do with these sheltered highborn failing to appreciate how dangerous this could be—but left me with the question of why they would do all this. Last night I had stayed focused on the business of arranging my introduction to their pet bandits, but if there was ever a time to indulge my curiosity, this was it.

“I would not presume to know the weight of a man’s soul,” said Lady Elidred, again shooting me a look over her shoulder. “That is for the Goddess to judge. What I do know is that this island has been wracked by poverty and strife since…the events of some years back.”

Adver gave his wife a warning look and she paused. Ah, yes, the siege. Did she really think that was the cause of all the corruption on Dount? Well, it made sense that highborn would be reluctant to badmouth their Archlord, even if he was a sadistic monster. Especially if he was a sadistic monster.

“I’m sure there are truly evil people in the world,” Elidred continued more quietly—to the point that I had to really focus on listening, since she was facing away from me. “Undoubtedly such men are drawn to the criminal lifestyle. But I also know that many who have fallen into banditry did so out of desperation. Many are runaway indentures. I will not endorse their failure to repay justly owed debts, but it is also true that men laboring on the farms are as likely to die of overwork as live to earn back their freedom.”

Far likelier, the way I heard it. For that matter, I was shocked to hear such sentiments coming from a highborn.

“But Clan Yviredh kept indentured servants to work its own farms.”

Both of them paused, since they couldn’t watch where they were going while shooting me angry looks.

“Our servants have always been justly provided for,” Highlord Adver stated, meeting my gaze with pride and no fear for once. “Clan Yviredh holds sacred its duty to kingdom and Goddess. Those chosen by Her will are to lead with virtue and shepherd their people to prosperity. The men laboring in our fields have always been given enough to eat, warm and safe housing, and sufficient time to rest. We meticulously track the value of their contributions and see them released once their debts are paid.”

Dammit, they really needed to stop acting like this. I had no plans to betray my fledgling agreement with the Yviredhs but it was already going to be a real problem if it ever became necessary to do so. How could I turn on the only honorable rich people I’d met in this damned place? Well, for a given value of “honorable.” Even Auldmaer had a ruthlessly pragmatic streak that made me more comfortable keeping him at a distance.

“And yet,” I said aloud, “you suddenly released all your indentures.”

Adver and Elidred exchanged another married look, suddenly not so prideful, and turned to resume walking.

“Yes, well,” the Highlord answered much less assertively, “since bringing young Master Flaerdwyd into our household and conversing with him, we have…learned things about the legal system on Dount. Throughout Dlemathlys entire, as it turns out. He told us many of those pressed into indentured service had been so under fraudulent conditions, for debts not owed. Having learned that… Well, a change had to be made.”

This time it was I who stopped walking in sheer stupefaction, immediately causing a pileup as Aster and Kastrin ran right into me and the two and a half men bringing up the rear barely avoided knocking us all down. Someone muttered a word which I suspected they generally didn’t dare speak in the presence of the family.

The Highlord and Lady had turned again at the commotion, and now Adver gave me a wry little smile. “You seem surprised, Lord Seiji. Yes, I was as well. For that reason, I investigated this carefully, and I regret to assure you that it is quite true. I hope you are not too shocked to learn of it.”

“Shocked to learn—” I cut myself off, dragging a hand down my face. “Highlord Adver, I’m afraid you have the wrong idea. I am shocked to learn that you didn’t know.”

Both of them stiffened, Elidred lowering her eyes.

“That may not be entirely fair, Lord Seiji,” said Aster from behind me. “Highborn live…insulated lives. I have no trouble believing that those not actively participating in this country’s corruption have no idea how deep it runs.”

My god, these people were hopeless. What had I gotten myself into? Well, access to highborn circles would continue to be useful even once my business with the local bandits was wrapped up, but still… Unbelievable. I controlled my expression with some difficulty.

“Anyway. Forgive the interruption, my lord. After you.”

Adver opened his mouth as if to say something, then just nodded once, stiffly, and continued through the forest at a pace considerate of his wife in her…now that I noticed, shoes which were entirely impractical for traipsing through wild khora.

I followed in silence, helplessly wondering just how badly I had miscalculated this time.

It was the most pathetic bandit camp I’d seen yet.

For one thing, unlike every other gang I’d attacked, they hadn’t chosen a defensible location, or even one with enough space to make a proper camp. These clowns had just planted a campfire right in the intersection of two game trails and laid out bedrolls and miscellaneous satchels of supplies along the trails themselves, which they had flattened and slightly expanded just from doing this. A couple of crude lean-to shelters had been constructed against the various khora which sprouted from the middle of their camp. You couldn’t see the whole thing from any part of it, including the center.

For another, it was close to deserted. Highlord Adver had reported their numbers at nineteen men and women as of his most recent information, but we found only six just now dragging themselves out of their blankets. And not a one of them keeping watch.

“Highlord!” a man in exactly the kind of shabby coat I expected exclaimed, scrambling upright and kicking one of his slower companions. “And—Lady Elidred! Wh-what brings you? I’m sorry, this place isn’t fit for…”

“It’s all right, Master Viarin,” Adver said soothingly. “It is Viarin, correct?”

“Ah—that’s…I mean, yes, my lord. Madon Viarin, your servant.” He belatedly folded down his hands, the rest of the gang doing likewise. “I’m…very flattered you remember, Highlord.”

All of them were now upright and nervously studying their guests, especially my companions and I. Kastrin was a cloaked and masked figure carrying a crossbow, Aster had that huge clearly magical sword strapped to her back, and I…

“Oh shit,” one of them men whispered, his eyes widening. “Oh fuck, oh shit, it’s him.”

“Mind your fucking language in front of the highborn,” Madon Viarin hissed, then his eyes widened as he realized what he’d just said. “Ah—I meant—that is—”

“Let’s not stand excessively on ceremony, gentlemen,” Adver said with an amused little smile, which immediately faded as he glanced around in concern. “Master Viarin, where is everyone? Surely you can’t have lost over two thirds of your number in the last week?”

“Ah… I, um. That is, no, my lord. They’re all well, last I heard.” He ducked his head, refusing to meet the Highlord’s eyes. “It’s just… Th-the other Clan. You know.”

“Clan Olumnach is fully invested in taking over Lady Gray’s abandoned territory in the Gutters,” I explained. “He’ll have pulled all his gangs out of their usual stomping grounds and sent them into town. There is a narrow window of opportunity for him while Gray’s organization is reduced to broken stragglers and the civilian population are reeling from the Kingsguard’s crackdown. And thus, a narrow window of opportunity for me to hit his forces from the rear while they are depleted and distracted. Hence my haste in coming here.”

“Oh, bugger,” one of the bandits whispered. “I only just got used to banditry. Are we doing politics now?” One of his less eloquent comrades smacked him quiet.

“So let’s not waste any time,” I said, then raised my voice, projecting it powerfully through the forest. “Ladies!”

They came melting out of every shadow on command, with a skill that made me nearly shed a tear of pride. Cloaked, crossbow-toting women stepped forward, encircling all of us so suddenly that the two Yviredh Clansguard whirled and drew their swords in a panic, as did Lord Ediver. The bandits clustered together, one of them actually whimpering, as the second ring arrived behind the first: gwynneks looming over the first rank, ridden by more cloaked figures, the ladies carrying their own shortbows which they still preferred to my crossbows. At this, even Lady Elidred drew in a sharp, hissing breath.

It was beautiful. The sheer, flawlessly executed presentation of it. That was how I knew I’d raised my girls right: to the last, they understood the importance of showtime.

“And now,” I said pleasantly, lowering my hood in a languid motion that stretched out and added weight to the moment, “we will discuss who has paid…the price.”