Arc 9-11
“Thank you for seeing us, Lady Tome.”
“You didn’t give me much choice,” I say, trying to keep the aggravation from my voice. I think I have every right to be annoyed at being disturbed first thing in the morning; aside from my unexpected visitors pulling me from a warm bed and warmer bodies, they’ve screwed my schedule for the day. But, expressing to them how little I appreciate their presence isn’t helpful. I’ll say my piece after whatever this is has been handled. After all, I doubt these people would be wasting my time with something unimportant.
I don’t think Grayskin can appear anything but stoic, as I’ve never seen his face emote beyond a tiny frown, but there is something hesitant in the set of his broad shoulders. Beside him is a woman dressed in a long dark, robe whose hood hides every feature except a sharp chin and plump lips. She isn’t nearly as good at hiding her emotions. Everything about her is tense, though she tries to mask it by sipping tea.
I lean back into the cushions of the furniture, fiddling with the sleeve of the jacket I threw on while ignoring Kierra making eyes at me from beneath the covers. Sigh. This better be good. “Well?”
Grayskin subtly glances at his companion, who puts down her cup. Hm. He’s never needed someone to talk to him before; I spared him as he was a leader amongst the Traditionalist and I wanted someone reasonable guiding the remnants of that faction. Either this woman is a specialist of some sort or…she’s doing the talking because of my reputation. Saints, what do they take me for?
“My lady,” the woman starts, her head jerking as I raise a hand.
“Who are you?”
“Ah. Named hunter, Drowning Rogue.”
“Uh-huh. And your actual name? Unless you go around being referred to by your title.”
“…Jane, my lady.”
“Great, Jane. Go on.”
I can feel her eyes raking over me, unfortunately not in a way I’d enjoy. She’s observing me like I’m a wild beast, looking for signs of aggression. As if I’m going to leap over the table and throttle them.
“We came to talk about the expedition. As you know, they are scheduled to leave next Saintsday.”
Very auspicious, heh. It’s also the last major hurdle I want to handle before we take off for the capital. “As far as I know, everything is proceeding well for the expedition.”
“Perhaps on the city’s end. However, how many people have registered for the expedition?”
“The last number I’m aware of is one hundred forty-two.”
“Less than one fifty.”
“That’s a respectable number.”
“It’s a fraction of the hundreds of hunters that survived the battle. Hundreds of hunters that you want fighting for you.”
That’s a stretch but I can say that them not fighting for me raises questions. “They’re the ones missing out on a payday.”
“True. And unemployed men are trouble waiting to happen. I’m sure my lady can handle them, but that is something we wish to avoid, for everyone’s sake.”
Everyone, sure. “I’m not going to beg them.”
“No, of course not. We took it upon ourselves to investigate the matter. There are two hundred twenty-three hunters that wish to continue their careers but are…tied to the past. They will only fight under the banner of the guilds.”
“Then they’re out of luck.”
She flinches at my hard tone. “The charter doesn’t prohibit the formation of guilds.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I sit up, letting some of my annoyance show. Or more of it, since I’m so bad at hiding my emotions. “So why are you here?”
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. What must it be like, facing down someone you know can kill you in a flash? Someone who can kill you without any consequence?
What am I saying? I know that feeling, had to endure it as a child every time a Mason looked at us. Normally, this is when I scoff at those struggles. Use them as evidence of the order of the world and my new place in it.
But the image of a headstone appears in my mind. I force myself to feel the bitterness. I imagine what it’s like to be on the other side. Then I relax, or do my best to.
“I’m listening.”
I can’t tell for sure but from the movement of her hood, I think she’s searching my eyes. I don’t know what she sees but her voice is noticeably less tense when she continues. “No one wants to risk angering you. There is talk suggesting that you’re waiting for the guilds to reform to find potential rebels to wipe them all out at once.”
That…isn’t stupid. I’d never, but it would be a clever way for a true tyrant to snuff out their dissidents before they can cause problems.
“I understand the problem. Do you have a solution?”
“We have a proposal.” She licks her lips, the gesture more conspicuous given it’s all I can see. “Our suggestion is the formation of squads that will be allowed to march under the banner of their guilds, new or old, under the condition that they follow the command structure of the expedition. To put it in familiar terms, it would be similar to how Victory conducts its wars, several knight orders having their own power structures but all subordinate to the field commander. Aside from adding a significant number of forces to the expedition, it would also increase coordination, an important issue with such a large force.”
“Until they decide to ignore my chosen commander’s orders for obvious reasons.”
“I can’t guarantee the future, but from what we’ve seen and heard, no one is thinking about that. Fighting you isn’t even a choice in the city’s mind and that’s what that would mean. They’re hesitant to work for you as they’re afraid that you will take their identities. Letting them hold onto their traditions is harmless and would go a long way to easing their fears.”
I drum my fingers on the armrest as I consider. She does have a point that their request is relatively harmless. Won’t even cost me anything. Question is, will it remain so? I haven’t outlawed the guilds because I want the CFQ to handle it. I want them to reject their old ways and their stupid traditions. I want it to be their choice, not something I shove down their throats.
This feels like I’d be putting up obstacles to that goal. Unless getting rid of their traditions doesn’t mean dismantling the guilds. If it’s a part of their identity…
How would I react if someone tried to make me give up summoning? Even before my rebirth? No matter the abuse the Grimoire family heaped on us, they couldn’t make us abandon our family art. Is this the same?
“…fine.” Time will tell. If this is just the hunters throwing a tantrum, then the righteous fury of the CFQ will crush them. If it isn’t, then the heavy blows from the different groups looking for targets to take their frustrations out on will forge them into something new. All the while, I get to play the magnanimous lord, like a parent giving a child sweets after strict discipline.
The city needs to believe that they can do things, for themselves and for their home, without worrying I’ll smite them for some vague offense. “They can wave their flags and whatnot. They can even reform their guilds. So long as everyone understands that everyone follows the same laws.”
“Of course, my lady. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. We still need to talk about your punishment.”
There’s that tension again. “Punishment?” she asks cautiously.
“For barging into my home. I could have forgiven it if it were a real emergency, but this should have been written up as a petition.”
“This was a time sensitive matter,” she hastily explains. “The hunters—”
“The hunters put themselves in this situation by throwing a tantrum. And while I concede they have plenty of reason to want to be difficult, that doesn’t warrant an emergency. You skipped the line, Jane. It might have been for a greater good but the rules aren’t there for when it’s easy or convenient.”
“My lady,” Grayskin finally speaks. “I’m the one who insisted on coming straight to you. I should suffer any punishment.”
“Cute, but you’re not the only one sitting across from me. You’ll both take your punishment. As for what it will be…both of you will copy the section in the charter relating to what a petition covers and the proper methods for submitting one for my personal review.”
“That’s it?” Jane asks incredulously, wincing as Grayskin kicks her ankle.
“Yes, that’s it. You break the rules, you get punished, but the punishment should be just. Have you not been attending class? Motivation and result contribute to sentencing.” I push to my feet. “Now, is there anything else?”
They both hurry to copy me. “No, my lady,” Grayskin continues. “Thank you for your patience.”
He bows his head, Jane following a moment later.
Dare I imagine there’s genuine respect in the gesture? Maybe a sliver, fragile and fleeting. “You’re welcome. Get out.”