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Chapter 148: Closed For Business
🕑 Added 2023-09-01 03:42:31 +0000 UTCOf all the joyless responsibilities I was expected to perform, treating with the various mercantile guilds was a task I was thankfully exempt from.
This was a burden Roland and Florella shared between themselves, and one which they excelled at.
Indeed, barely a ridiculous complaint about licensing costs, permit costs, leasing costs and steadily increasing taxation levels could be levelled before one of my older siblings rushed in to placate the rabble.
A flagrant misuse of their time, of course.
Though few could match my natural talents and wits, my siblings were assuredly amongst them. That their political savvy and business acumen was being used for placating commoners instead of quenching the greater fires wasn’t just absurd.
It was calamitous for the wider state of the kingdom.
Thus, here I was.
An absolute travesty. I could be elsewhere. I could be in my bedroom.
Even as I disgraced myself with my first steps into the Miner’s Guild headquarters, A Court Lady’s Indiscretion, Vol. 3 was still gathering dust behind the rows of my history grimoires.
A problem not just for my scholastic education, but the maids who had to try harder with each passing day to pretend not to see while dusting.
Indeed, the merchant guilds had much to answer for.
They haggled over copper while they themselves sat upon gold. For what was my kingdom, if not a land of wealth and opportunity?
This was not the Kingdom of Dunes, where aspirations were swallowed up as swiftly as the shifting sands. Nor was this the Grand Duchy of Granholtz, where ambitions were ever drowned in the White Citadel’s eternal shadow.
Here, even a common band of hoodlums could rise to prominence.
Not too much, of course. That would be ridiculous. But they could at least come to own a reasonable plot of land and a house to plant upon it.
A stately manor perhaps.
One with a foyer, a candled chandelier and a varnished floor of tiled … ashwood.
Ugh.
Commoners.
Even as their hands climbed the ladder, their feet slipped to fall further down.
“I see the Miner’s Guild has attempted to raise themselves from their huts,” I said, peering around as I judged the upholstery. “A laudable attempt.”
“Really? Because I thought you were about to say something while laughing.”
“Then you thought correctly … ohohohoho, why, look at this wood panelling! The uniformity! It’s as though everything was purchased in bulk to save costs!”
“Gasp,” said Coppelia, covering her mouth with her hands.
“And this tea set! Why, it matches the table with unerring precision! Absolutely nothing draws the eye! I wouldn’t be surprised if everything came from the same vendor!”
Indeed, the more I looked, the more I saw a caricature of aristocracy.
A rare piece of comedy. Over the course of my journey, few things other than a peasant’s wheelbarrow spontaneously collapsing before me gave any reason to indulge in amusement. Yet even to the untrained eye, this could only pass as a baron’s forgotten retreat after being seized by mountain bandits.
Frankly, it wasn’t enough to purchase an estate on the outskirts of town. It needed to be furnished like one. And that meant bespoke tableware.
Not whatever Coppelia was eyeballing in a cabinet.
Her usually curious hands stayed exactly where they were. A greater indictment than anything I could have said.
“Ahem.”
Suddenly, the man I’d been patently ignoring since I walked inside raised a hand.
Unkempt and dressed in the attire of a failed merchant, he stood before me with the sigil of a mining pick pinned to his breast pocket and an expression of distress on his face.
It should be far worse.
“Um, excuse me, but may I help you?” he asked, waving to gain my attention.
“Clearly not. Otherwise you’d be drenched in sweat while bitterly resenting your lot in life. But perhaps you may explain instead. Why are those of this guild not currently weeping against the wall after a busy day of unappreciated labour?”
The man raised a brow.
A thousand wrinkles appeared in that one motion, despite the relative youth in his eyes.
“Well, if you’re referring to my workers, then it’s because there’s little remuneration to be had. The mines have been sealed off. At least until whatever horrors inside have been dealt with. Now they enjoy life as … town ambassadors.”
The man’s shoulders fell, matching the glumness of his face.
I was inclined to offer him a morsel of my pity. He wasn’t leading a tour group, and so he immediately rose above the heights of the earthworms I’d seen so far.
“Very well. And what vague and unspecified horrors will I be dealing with, since I’m the only person with functioning arms in this town?”
The man blinked at me.
“Uh, I’m sorry, but who are you?”
“A veritable angel who should be napping upon a cloud. Instead, I’m here to ensure the productivity of your own guild. Rejoice.”
The man responded with confusion. And also a bit of concern. A bizarre reaction to my healing light.
“She’s an adventurer,” said Coppelia, pointing unhelpfully.
“W-What? Really?”
The man’s demeanour changed at once. His eyes glanced down at the ring on my finger, even as I instinctively went to hide it behind my back.
“Yup! She’s really shooting up the ol’ ladder too! She’s C-rank now, but was pretty much F-rank yesterday. A true adventuring prodigy. Get her while you can!”
“Coppelia?!”
My mouth opened wide as my handmaiden’s words slammed into me with the force of a shoulder massage by my mother. I could barely stop myself from collapsing.
Meanwhile, the man in front of me rapidly blinked, the wrinkles on his face vanishing as a youthful complexion returned to his sunburnt skin.
Invigorating those around me. One of my many healing properties.
“Well, why didn’t you say!”
The man rushed towards me, hands outstretched.
I hurriedly withdrew to the door, appalled at this sudden invasion of my personal space.
He halted and coughed, yet his enthusiasm was no less elated.
“Tobin Marrows. Deputy Guildmaster of the Miner’s Guild. You’ve finally come, then! It’s been weeks since we sent out word for suitable adventurers to assist. Those in Stermondt are sadly only good for finding lost cats.”
I winced. Memories I hadn’t yet succeeded in extinguishing flashed across my mind.
“Y-Yes … the most shameful of adventurers … well, I’m here now … a paragon of problem solving … with utterly zero experience in finding lost cats …”
“Excellent! How many did you bring with you?”
“How many who?”
“Adventurers. How many are in your questing party?”
The very suggestion sent me staggering back.
A questing party? With adventurers? Why, I’d rather shake this commoner’s hand than journey with a band of professional layabouts!
“Absolutely none. Why, I can think of no greater disgrace … well, no, I can, but this is the most severe at present!”
This man, Tobin … whoever, blinked.
He looked uncertainly over my attire, only slightly relaxing upon seeing the ruby hilt of my sword.
Then, he glanced at Coppelia testing the integrity of his sofas by rolling around in them and his expression fell.
“I … I see … well, if a talented adventurer has answered the call of the Miner’s Guild, then perhaps these days of bleakness may finally end. However, uh, as grateful as we are to have you, just a single C-rank adventurer is a bit … if it’s possible, could you perhaps call upon–”
“No. I’m here to fix problems and laugh at your decor. And I’ve just finished laughing. Now explain in five words or fewer what needs to be done so that these ancient mountains bristling with rare ecosystems can resume being excavated for the sake of the kingdom’s treasury.”
The deputy guildmaster blinked, his enthusiasm noticeably dwindling as he considered his answer.
“The evil has to go.”
Hmm.
Yes, that was indeed a lot less useful than I expected.
“Fine. You may use more words. But not too many. Be concise. I’m grading on brevity and relevance.”
“Uh, well, it started a few weeks ago. I was here in the guild headquarters while–”
“F minus.”
“Um … a few weeks ago, there was word from–”
“F minus.”
The man bit his lips.
“A mining team went missing. We think they discovered something they shouldn’t. There’s a strong evil down there. We don’t know what it is, but the mines have been barred since. The guards are waiting for reinforcements from the Loerstadt Gate before sending a subjugation force.”
I could scarcely believe the words I had just heard.
Soldiers being diverted from the Loerstadt Gate? From the border? A disgrace. It was one thing for the local garrison to sit on their laurels. It was quite another to invite soldiers under my Tristan’s command to cover for the lack of effort.
After all, it wasn’t rumours and vague evil my brother defended against, but the encroaching shadow of the Grand Duchess.
And hers was a far crueller threat than anything found under the soil.
“Uh, since then, a fog’s taken over the town,” continued the man, waiting for my assessment. “Can’t really say much else. The miners are taking advantage of the situation while they can. Perhaps a bit too well, in my opinion. In weeks, they’ve already forgotten the hardships of their own fathers.”
The man peered down at his palms, admiring callouses engraved through years of camaraderie and duty. A rare loyalist who remembered his sense of belonging.
I gave it a moment’s thought.
“F.”
The man looked aggrieved.
An expression fated to change as soon as I sent his comrades back to work.
“Very well. So a mining team has vanished and the local garrison was chased away by shades and echoes. I expected nothing and am still disappointed. No matter. Point me the way. Where is the entrance to the mines?”
I received a suitably shocked face in response.
“Wait, you want to go … now?”
“Of course. And I’ll do so without a ticket, thank you.”
“But what about the subjugation force? If you wait, the reinforcements from the Loerstadt Gate will arrive. It should be soon.”
“Excellent. Send a runner to inform them to return to their posts. I shall see to the issue of the mines immediately. Now, where do I go?”
The man before me appeared paralysed with confusion.
Indeed, far from rushing to provide me a map, he simply swallowed.
“That … That isn’t so simple.”
“Incorrect. You have a finger. While I don’t expect you to lift a pickaxe in assistance, you can at least signify the general direction.”
“No, I mean … the lower levels of the mines are sealed by holy warding magic. You can’t just walk in.”
I rolled my eyes.
Next, he’d be telling me that I couldn’t build a giant outdoor bathtub because an orphanage was already there. Problems which existed as long as it took for me to fire the first architect to not immediately nod their head.
“Holy warding magic. How quaint. Rest assured that as the embodiment of all things holy, such a ward cannot possibly affect me.”
The man had the nerve to look uncertainly at me.
He then gulped, brows creased as he deliberated over some conundrum which I was again fated to repair.
“There’s … well, another way. A shortcut into the mines.”
“Yes?”
“An entrance which isn’t sealed. I’m, uh, I’m only mentioning this since I’m sure you’d appreciate less stumbling around.”
“I appreciate answers. What shortcut are you referring to? Are these not documented and accounted for?”
“Not this one. At least, not officially. There’s a ladder leading down into a tunnel, near the mining site where the first incident was recorded. It’s under a house. The guildmaster’s, in fact … before he went missing with his miners.”
The man fidgeted. I allowed him a moment to shrivel up like a slug in the sun.
“And why, dare I ask, would the leader of Stermondt’s paramount mining guild require personal access to the mines from his own private abode?”
The deputy guildmaster hesitated.
He glanced at the ring upon my hand. He should have been glancing at the tip of my boot instead.
“Well, it’s useful to have during an emergency. Or when he feels the need to inspect the mining site for irregularities.”
“Irregularities. Like ores and gemstones mysteriously separating from official inventory, I take it?”
The man sighed, then raised his palms in exasperation.
“I did warn him. I told him not to. But he said mining is hard work with little reward. And overseeing the kingdom’s–”
“Overseeing the kingdom’s essential access to metals is well beyond the ability of the Miner’s Guild, yes, I agree. All this time, I had no idea this was a branch of the Smugglers Guild.”
The man had the decency to look shamed. A fine expression.
I hoped his guildmaster could wear it equally as well.
“If … If you find the old man … well, I’m sure he won’t mind the fine he’ll be needing to pay for his errors of judgement. Uh, assuming you’ll be letting the guards know about the ladder … ?”
I ensured my expression was all the answer required.
His extremely optimistic view of the punishment I’d exact aside, I’d certainly be seeking this errant guildmaster out. And all those with him.
There were many ways miners could honourably meet their doom in our service. And I refused to have them waste their lives without it involving a perfectly avoidable accident while they toiled under a curtain of their own sweat.
Understanding my silence, the man turned to make himself useful.
Then kept turning, until he was facing me once again.
“There’s just one thing … I, uh, I actually went to the old man’s place not long ago.”
“To descend the ladder and search for your missing peers?”
“Well, no. There’s something bad down there. I’m no hero. I just wanted to make sure the place was locked tight. Everything stashed away. You know, in case thieves and the like came in.”
“My, it rather sounds like you wished to scavenge from your own presumably deceased guildmaster. But go on.”
A flush of something between shame and embarrassment fell across his face.
His lips quivered, but whatever defence he wished to mount was instead replaced by an odd croaking.
“I … I didn’t make it far inside. There’s something there. In the house. Haunting it.”
“I see. The repenting spirit of your guildmaster, perhaps? Why, if he wished to atone for his smuggling, then you should have been more receptive.”
The man shook his head. Repeatedly.
“What’s inside was no kindly spirit. It was … it was something else. Something dark.”
“Something dark.”
“I wanted to tell the Adventurer’s Guild. To drive it out, but–”
“But you didn’t wish to draw attention to an illicit entry into the mines. How very dull.” I rolled my eyes. “Rest assured that any darkness which has the lack of standards to haunt a commoner’s house matters less to me than the stains on your floor. Now, where is this shortcut?”
The man glanced past my shoulders, as though hoping to spy a gang of layabouts ready to sponge off my illuminating competence.
Then, he furrowed his brows beneath my enduring light.
“It was no mere darkness I felt. It was something dead. There are dead things in Stermondt. And not the type which can be warded away by flowers.”
I considered the man’s pallid expression. At the details he refused to speak.
Thus, I crossed my arms and tapped my foot as acknowledgement. The man swiftly hurried away in search of parchment as I waited for directions.
I needed nothing else.
After all, if the dead troubled me, then the answer was simple.
Why … I would simply put the fear of life back into them.
Comments
The Magician
She is a Countess, that's pretty high on the ranks of nobility, enough to properly rub shoulders with the Royals. She will likely find in her a kindred spirit and a wayward noble in grave need of her assistance once she hears that the Nun is the one running the scheme in the town AND she won't let her return to her library to read the latest volume of "A Court Lady's Indiscretion." I have a feeling that will be the moment that Juliette lays a gentle hand on her shoulder and says "I understand exactly this feeling that darkens your brows and saps the life from your very skin" to which Coppellia will respond "Uh... she's a Vampire?" to which Juliette would respond "Shush"
phantom
Juliette is going to be so disappointed when she finds out. Also I wonder how she will react to the vampire. The vampire is somewhat a kindred spirit in reading books. but she is not a princess as she clearly went underground rather than upwards. That said she has spent her time helping deal with problems so she has been a net positive to the kingdom. Unlike a certain recent arrival.
