Conquest of Avalon

Luce II: The Problem Solver

For those who lost their lives in cold and darkness. May their departure not be forgotten, even in this age of gleaming.

The message was etched into a stone plinth outside the city gates. It looked much like the memorial in Fortescue, though that one had the message twice, once in Avaline and once in the old tongue of the Mamela.

This one had a line added on the end, off-center from the other inscription: And for all those who followed them, abandoned by their lord. —Year 118 AG.

On the way up from the harbor, Luce’s party had spotted bare earth piled up over farmland by the side of the road in the suspicious shape of a mass barrow. This marker seemed only to confirm that.

While I’ve been sitting around moping, people have been dying.

“That was unsanctioned,” Agnes Delbrook said, eyebrows creased firmly downward. She was only in her fifties, yet her short hair had already passed fully from the realm of grey into white, matching the color of her crisp dinner jacket. “Rest assured, the perpetrator will be dealt with.”

“Why?” Luce stepped in front of her, ensuring that he was at the front of their party as they crossed the threshold into Carringdon. “It’s not wrong, is it? Perimont was too busy ‘dealing’ with ‘perpetrators’ in Malin to do anything for his people here. His wife fell into the same trap, even after darkness fell.”

“They desecrated a memorial, Your Highness. Ill will towards their lord is no excuse for that.”

“Perhaps not.” You’re here to solve a problem, not make more enemies. “Someone must have wanted a place to grieve more easily accessible to the city. Where is the official memorial?”

“I beg your pardon, Your Highness?”

“For those who did not live to see the sun again. The unsanctioned epitaph added them to the historical one, so where is the sanctioned equivalent?”

Delbrook looked briefly like she’d swallowed a lime.

“People need to grieve. If you don’t give them an opportunity for it, they’ll make their own.”

“Of course, Your Highness. A suitable monument is currently under construction, but in an effort to ensure the highest quality available, it will not be ready for unveiling for several weeks.”

Liar. You’re just trying to get me off your back about this.

Luce supposed he shouldn’t have expected anything less from Lord Perimont’s chosen policy advisor, the woman who had taught Simon Perimont everything he knew of economics. Her attitude was not an unusual one, deeply ingrained among Avalon’s nobility.

She had swallowed her pride and come to Uncle Miles for help, and accepted Luce into Carringdon to examine the problem despite everything she would have heard about him. That merited consideration, and it meant that maybe she could even be an asset here, provided she were given proper direction.

“How many are dead?” Luce asked her quietly as they approached Woodfell Castle, former home of the Perimonts.

“We haven’t been able to take a census yet, but more than half the farmhouses sit empty. In the city, those unable to provide for themselves froze in the street, and ended up in the barrow you saw. I think that was about two or three hundred, and we could guess that around that many more from the surrounding villages never made it inside Carringdon at all. As for the farmers out further afield, I’m afraid I have no idea. If their hearths and larders were well enough stocked, perhaps some yet live.”

They didn’t even have enough to feed people within the walls? “Almost a thousand in just a few months, and that’s just what we know of… Khali’s curse. This is more desperate than I thought.”

“And if we cannot secure reserves before the onset of winter, that number will look small.” She paused as they reached the town square, smoothing out the front of her jacket. “You are no friend of mine, Your Highness. Lord and Lady Perimont did well by me, and you slaughtered them both, then stripped Simon and Mary of their birthright. But I believe you hold the key to saving Carringdon, perhaps all of the western isles, and I am willing to put my feelings aside for the sake of this city.”

“I appreciate that.” And also notice you conveniently omitting their barbarous treason in your little narrative.

“Gather your swords close as we pass through the square. The urbanites have been somewhat unruly of late, so it’s best to be cautious.” Delbrook signaled to her guards, and they closed ranks around her.

Luce nodded to Charlotte to do the same.

Uncle Miles had not lent but given him twenty of his men to keep about him as a personal guard, both a kindly-meant gesture towards Luce’s safety and an embarrassing reminder of his failures in Malin, where losing an advantage in swords had cost him everything.

That was not a mistake Luce was liable to make ever again.

Two of them had refused to serve under Charlotte’s command, so he’d left them back in Fortescue. The remaining eighteen circled around them, creating a bulwark against the crowd as they followed Delbrook through.

“Make way!” they shouted. “Make way for the Prince of Crescents!”

“Make way for the High Steward of Carringdon!” Delbrook’s guards were shouting too, slowly clearing the path, but it looked as if their arrival had prompted more of the crowd to come out and see them, and progress was beginning to slow.

All these people gathered here for a reason. “What happened?” Luce shouted to Delbrook, trying to be heard over the inarticulate roar of the crowd.

“Wait until we’re inside!” she shouted back, a fair enough response given the noise.

By the time they reached the castle gates, the crowd had settled on a single cry, chanting with one voice: “No pay! No work! No pay! No work!”

Luce could still hear them yelling it as he settled in Perimont’s solar, a warm cup of tea in front him.

“You see what I’m dealing with here, Your Highness. Not a scrap of gratitude in these shiftless layabouts.” Delbrook leaned back in her own chair, waving a command to her servant. “I was worried enough as it was, but it seems that my voyage only emboldened them.”

“To do what, exactly? What is their grievance?” Other than you being the person in charge while hundreds died in the street, anyway. “You said that you needed help with a logistical problem, not an insurrection.”

“There’s no need to be dramatic, Your Highness. They will fall in line as they always have, all the more so with your help, and the help of your guard in keeping order.”

I’m not letting that happen again either. “My guard is here for my protection, not to bolster your own forces. Now I ask again: what is their grievance?”

“Treachery and laziness, though in what proportion I could not tell you. The sun is risen, and the worst of the crisis has passed. All I asked was that they honor their contracts and return to the fields to work. We may only get one harvest before the true winter, and yet they’re wasting time whining about it in the square.”

You’re leaving something out, I’m positive. “Their contracts?”

Delbrook smiled, and she began to speak in what Luce imagined was her ‘tutor’ voice. “Your great-grandfather freed the serfs, Your Highness. Now each of them are free, and that seems to have put all manner of disreputable ideas into their heads.”

“But the contracts?”

She sighed. “Tenancy contracts. Each of them signed it in order to work on Lord Perimont’s lands. They agreed to pay the necessary rent, and now they want to weasel out of it because they smell blood in the air.”

Luce sucked in air through his teeth, trying to remain civil. You have hundreds starving and you’re quibbling over rent fees? “How is the rent collected? A percentage of their yield?”

“Better,” she answered. “Each household need only provide three hundred mandala worth of crops per acre per month, as determined by the Lord’s assessor, or two hundred fifty mandala in coin, should they wish to sell it themselves. Everything after that is theirs to keep, a potentially infinite source of revenue.”

I have no idea if those are reasonable numbers or not. Though he wouldn’t wish this ignoble exile on anyone, Luce did briefly wonder how much easier this would be if he had Simon here to help parse this. “So… the people outside are mad because you’re bringing back that rent, now that the sun has returned?”

“Bring back? It never went anywhere. They signed a contract. Nothing’s happened to nullify that, despite the record number of households that failed to pay. They’re mad because their own failures put them in debt, and now they want to worm their way out from under it without simply doing the work. Plenty of peasants paid their rent without issue during the darkness, and you don’t see them agitating things out there. It’s only the failures.”

“I… see…” Interesting that more than half the city seems to be a ‘failure’, by your reckoning. “But nothing was growing here after the solstice, correct?” You didn’t have spirits aiding you, making possible the impossible. “How would they pay that without any income from their lands?”

“Preparation, of course. The farmers who were smart with their money saved it, and weathered the last few months just fine. Instead of spending it all on flashy clothing and brandy, they proved industrious. Resilient.” She paused, putting her hand under her chin. “Deserving.”

“Did it occur to you that forgiving the debt might get them back to work?”

Delbrook looked offended at the mere suggestion. “I’m a High Steward, not a charity. If I set an example that failure, that breaking your word and coming up short, that all of it is just wiped away as if no mistake had ever been made, how could anyone take our contracts seriously ever again? What does that say to the dutiful, the successful, who did pay their rent without needing to borrow?”

“You could give them the rent back too, so that it’s even for everyone.”

“So that my word means nothing? Your Highness, I appreciate your zeal for finding a solution here, but selling out the word of Woodfell for the meager, temporary gain of getting peasants back to work faster…” She clicked her tongue. “Worse, it would show them that such agitation bears fruit. The next time, their position would be all the stronger, knowing that they’d succeeded at extracting concessions before.”

That is, if they aren’t dead, along with the rest of us, after your penny-pinching led Avalon to starve.

“No, I already have a solution for that. A few choice contracts for a chosen few will get them back in the fields even as the agitators starve. We’ll peel them off one by one, and run out the clock until they have no choice but to give in and honor their contracts. If that proves insufficient, Lord Perimont left Forresters for a reason.”

“You’d attack them?” I need to talk to Charlotte right away. This can’t be allowed to stand.

I wish I’d asked my uncle for more swords.

“They’d attack us.” Delbrook smiled, grin stretching ear to ear. “Captain Bainsbridge assures me that she has just the man for the job. And it wouldn’t take much. All he’d have to do is throw a brick or some such thing, and my guards would have the justification they needed to round them up, and take care of the most vocal. That should chasten the rest. Then the prisoners can be put to work. Everything will be fine, either way.”

Luce could barely keep his jaw from falling open. How naïve I was, to think that Perimont would rule Carringdon any differently from Malin, or that his chosen advisor would do anything to deviate from that path.

“Lady Delbrook, you came to Fortescue seeking my Uncle’s help—”

“But yours is all the better. Lord Arion doubtless has his own affairs to tend to, and your word will be even more valuable than his in this matter.” You must not have heard about my sterling accomplishments in Malin, then. She glanced up at a servant ducking into view, quickly nodding his head and retreating from sight. “Your Highness, if you would care to join me in the dining room, I have prepared a feast in honor of your arrival.”

“A feast?” he couldn’t help but say. So many people starved and froze that they couldn’t have a grave to themself, the fields are fallow, and you want to feast?

“Of course, Your Highness! It is not every day that Carringdon is graced with the Prince of Crescents, let alone that we receive his aid. Showing due gratitude is only reasonable.” She smiled, standing from her seat. “Come!”

“No,” Luce said quietly, remaining in his seat. “We have business to take care of first.”

“How prudent,” Delbrook said, sitting back down herself. “Then I shall dispense with further preamble. When I asked for your help, Your Highness, I had a specific favor in mind.”

“Swords, to keep your peasants in line.” Luce wrinkled his nose as he said it.

“Not at all, Your Highness! They are for your protection, as you stated. None can doubt your need for it after that misadventure with the pirates. No, I’m hoping you can help ensure that shipments of Lyrion grain are rerouted. Right now, the lord’s portion is going to Cambria, and as you can see, we sorely need a more equitable distribution.”

“Lyrion grain,” he repeated, slightly incredulous. Not so confident about getting a last harvest in before winter, then.

“Horace Williams will not be inclined to heed a mere steward, even one acting in the stead of the Lady of Carringdon. But a prince of the blood? Your words carry your father’s weight. He will listen to you.”

“And when you’ve taken your fill from the Territories, you’ll have no need to capitulate.” Luce’s frown was heavy, but Delbrook didn’t seem to notice.

“Precisely!”

Luce sipped his tea, readying himself for a bit of candor. “I don’t see why the Crown should reward you for your failure. If you’d been better prepared, you would have what you need saved up instead of having to come beg us.” What was that worst thing she’d said? “I’m a prince, not a charity. If I set the example that lords can starve their peasants and fall behind on their taxes, only for the Crown to swoop in and bail them out, what precedent does that set? How can anyone trust our word again?”

Delbrook had a hand in the air, but it dropped as she saw Luce continue. Teeth grit, she leaned forward in her seat. “Those peasants signed a contract that they must honor. I had to take over for my Lord and Lady when they were suddenly executed without warning, right at the moment Carringdon needed them most. I had hoped that you would be understanding, Prince Lucifer, given your role in the situation. I am not asking much, just a word in the Governor-General’s ears.”

“You’re asking me to help you steal food out of Cambrian mouths so that you can hold firm on starving your own people!”

Delbrook scoffed. “As if the Cambrians are half so desperate. Their larders will grow fat with spoils from the Arboreum while the western isles don’t see a single bushel. Even though our young men and women will die to take that land. What I’m asking for is more than fair, and if you care one whit about those people out there, you’d want food coming here instead of where it isn’t needed. I think, on some level, that you know that, Prince Lucifer.”

Eyes closed, Luce’s hand rested against his forehead. “What spoils from the Arboreum?” I suspect I know, but I dearly hope I’m mistaken.

“The Great Council authorized your brother to send our forces south, in order to secure our safety and prosperity. I’m told that Lorraine is already under siege, with our soldiers sweeping west from Lyrion through the forest. Soon, the Arboreum Territory will be entirely under our control.”

“Khali’s curse.”

“And from there, who knows what’s next? The Rhan lands are lush and fertile, and easily accessed from the river forks. Or perhaps Micheltaigne. Even after the Winter War, their riches are legendary, and it would give us control over the waters of Paix Lake, to better spread our sphere of influence over the South.”

Ever since I was seven, I’ve been hoping that this moment would never come again.

While I was flailing in Malin, Avalon set itself on a course of grievous destruction, condemning thousands to death after everyone has lost so much already.

“So you see, Prince Lucifer, there will be plenty to go around. With a word from you, I highly doubt your brother will object, nor Horace Williams. Carringdon would ever be in your debt, as would I.”

I need to go to Cambria right away, was Luce’s first thought, desperately reaching for some kind of way to get Avalon out of this. But then what would I do? Delbrook might not have heard the news yet, but after Malin, Luce was a joke, and Harold might not be kindly disposed to him. He might even want me dead. That, or Father does. Either way, a hostile city whose most powerful denizens had already set a course for war.

What reason did they have to listen to Luce and his nineteen swords? What could he possibly do to convince the entire Great Council that Harold hadn’t already tried? Unless he hasn’t tried anything, because he actually wants this. Then he would stand against me, and getting anywhere with the Great Council would be that much more impossible.

“I need to find a way to fix this.”

Delbrook looked confused. “Of course, Your Highness. And my suggested course was a conversation with Governor-General Horace Williams in Lyrion. If you—”

“Not that. I think I know how to fix Carringdon’s ills. It’s doing the same for Avalon that vexes me.”

“I’m not sure I understand, Your Highness, but if you need any further convincing, allow me to offer you this.” She snapped her fingers and a servant entered, carrying a small black pair of gloves with a faint glowing aura about them. “These gloves were bound by Baron Williams in the Foxtrap, out of a spider spirit named Teruvo. I heard tell that you’re hunting for spiritual artifacts, and I have no doubt that these will make an excellent addition to your collection.”

“The Gloves of Teruvo?” Luce had inquired after those back in Malin, as a bargaining chip to use with the spirits. The Star of Pierrot, his uncle had managed to return, but the gloves had gone missing just at the most inopportune moment, mere days before Luce’s request had arrived. “You found them?”

“Just three days hence. A servant was sticky-fingered, and has been dealt with accordingly. I hope this gift enriches your life, as it has enriched mine.”

So, you definitely hid it away to avoid sending it to me, and now that I have something you want, you’re pulling it back out to trade. “That isn’t yours to give, Lady Delbrook. You are the High Steward of Carringdon, but Lord Perimont’s property is not your own to give away.”

She frowned at that, but it didn’t deter her. “That may be, but surely it’s within the power of a prince to forgive such a transgression. These gloves belong with you. Surely you see that? And I’ll have them delivered to a site of your choosing the moment the first shipment of grain from Lyrion arrives.”

“No you will not.” Luce stood up. “Charlotte! Get in here.”

“There’s no need for that, Your Highness. You’re among friends. Trust me.”

Trust me.

“Silence.” Luce turned to Charlotte. “Gather my guard and return here immediately.”

Charlotte nodded and ducked away, soon to return.

“Please! Don’t be so quick to leave. You’ve traveled far, and endured much. Stay the night at least. I implore you.”

“I believe I told you to be silent.” Luce grabbed Charlotte’s hand as she returned, his guards behind her, and set his other arm on her shoulder like he’d seen Camille do when she wanted something. “Effective immediately, Agnes Delbrook is relieved of command. I will be taking control of Carringdon under the authority of my father Harold IV Grimoire. You will inform the swords of Carringdon that they are under your command.”

Charlotte smiled, nodding firmly. “And if they don’t want to follow orders?”

“I hear that there’s a war going on, and I have no doubt that they would be most welcome on the front lines. Or, if they insist, death, though I would sooner avoid it.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

As it turned out, no one insisted on it, though the Arboreum front gained six swords to aid its efforts, ex-Forrester Captain Bainsbridge being the most notable among them. And Luce’s guard swelled in number to thirty-eight, though he had no doubt that Charlotte would cut that number down at the first sign of disloyalty.

“Send someone out to the square to tell them I’m making an announcement.”

Charlotte’s lip curled. “Is that wise?”

She’s seen my last public speech. But even that had done more good than harm. “Even if my delivery falters, they’re going to love my news. All tenant debts are suspended until Spring. Apparently there’s a feast laid out in the great hall that we should wheel out to sweeten the pot. And send word to my mother and uncle. We’ll need a wise hand to rule here once I set out, and I want them to send someone as soon as possible.”

We’ll go to Lyrion, and deal with the grain at its source. Spirits are closer, and I just gained a new artifact to bargain. If the yields could be increased to the point that conquest was unnecessary… If the day is fair, I might just find a means to end the war before it’s even begun.

“Are you sure that will be enough for the people out there?” Charlotte asked, already scribbling out her next set of orders. “And what about Lady Delbrook?”

“I’ve got a solution to both.” I kept my velvet gloves on with Whitbey and Lady Perimont. With Camille… Look how that ended. “Hang her.”