Only Villains Do That

2.44 In Which the Dark Lord Loses Patience

So, heres the situation, based on what Ive learned.

Ten days later we were back around the conference table in North Watch. With the same number of people as my original council, even, the empty seat having been filled. Not just the same physical chair; Nazralind occupied more or less the same niche as Sakin had, though her skills were a poor substitute for his. Probablyit occurred to me now I didnt actually know what real-world experience he had, and Naz was here as the only one of us whod actually conducted guerrilla warfare. Her insights into that and the deeper politics of Dount and Dlemathlys were invaluable, but I wasnt ready to assign her an official rank or command. Useful as she was in organizing her gwynnek riders, she was also shockingly naive in some ways.

The short version is its bad, but not as bad as I feared it was going to be, I continued. To begin with, the food situation. It turns out the harvest was well more than half brought in on the night of the Inferno, and furthermore most of the agriculture on Dount is done on the eastern half of the island, where the actual burning was minimal to nonexistent. So some of the harvest was lost, but a small amount overall. It looks like itll be a lean year, but there wont be a famine.

There may or may not be relief supplies from the capital, depending on how organized and motivated the King happens to be on a particular day, said Minifrit, but I rather expect Dount will receive gifts of food from Lancor. Especially with all the talk of signs and portents in the air, the Empire will seek to aggressively position itself as the leader of the Sanorite world.

Food prices are still gonna rise this winter, and relief shipments probably wont help, Kasser added, scowling. The problems not how much food there is, but how its distributed. The Clans will start hoarding. Thats what they do whenever theres a shortage of anything. People will be hungry while piles of grain sit around rotting.

I nodded. Its a different situation with the khora. They dont provide any food staplesits my understanding the edible khora products are all luxury goods, used for trade rather than feeding Dount. The ones that burned Apparently it takes multiple years to grow and harvest a lot of those, and all of those cycles have been interrupted. Therell be no harvests of what was being grown, but the khora affected by an Immolate spell are suddenly more vibrantly healthy than they have ever been. The last word I heard as we were moving back out of inhabited territory is that the next khora harvests are going to be absolute record-breakers, but that wont even start to be seen until next year. Not for as long as a decade, some of them. So the cultivators are going to miss a harvest they were counting on for the benefit of much better ones down the line.

Which will exacerbate the problem Kasser referred to, Minifrit drawled, exhaling spicy smoke. Clans and merchant houses will get in on this. The situation now is that the plantations and those who depend on them are urgently in need of relief. They will be given loans on punishing terms, against future profits. The moneylenders will grow richer in the years to come, but those who actually cultivate the khora will barely survive their upcoming success.

I closed my eyes. My elbows were resting on the table, hands folded in front of me, and for a moment I leaned my forehead against them.

What can I do? I wonderedaloud, but talking mostly to myself. I can put a knife to the throat of any Clan on this island if I really wanna work at it But not without starting a war we wont win.

Best not to try that approach anyway, Nazralind murmured. Take it from someone who has. If you squeeze the highborn, its the lowborn wholl feel the most pain.

You should talk to Rhydion, Aster suggested.

I raised my head to look at her with a questioning frown.

Youre right about the basic problem, Lord Seiji, she explained. The shortage will be manageable, except for the greed and paranoia of the Clans. Someone has to get them under control, and neither Clan Aelthwyn nor the King have the power to do it. Well, Archlord Caludon probably could, but this isnt something hed care about. Whats needed is a blade to their throats to make them fall in line. This time, youre not the best person for the job.

Shes right, Nazralind said, her eyes widening with dawning realization. The Clans are scared of Rhydion in a way they never will be of you, Lord Seiji. Im sorry to say it, but its true. Hes at least as physically dangerous as you are, and Well, its like the night you ousted Lady Gray from the Gutters. They drew together to confront a perceived attack on the power structure itself, and thats exactly what theyd do if an outsider like you started bludgeoning them into line. But Rhydion is part of the systema powerful part. He could walk into any Clans fortress and behead the Highlord, and the reaction from the throne and the Convocation would be to start viciously investigating the survivors, because he mustve had a good reason.

Rhydion, Minifrit mused, leaning back in her chair and raising an eyebrow. This is the so-called paladin who rather notoriously refuses to see injustices under his nose, yes?

Its true, hes on Dount to deal with zombies or some shit and got tunnel vision about it, I said. Hm. He did finally stir himself to protect the Gutter Rats, after Gray and I between us made a big ugly spectacle of it close enough to him that he risked getting splattered by the blood spray.

Course, its hard to say whether that was him changing his ways, Aster muttered, or a one-off exception thatll make him even less inclined to in the future.

I heaved a sigh. I think youre right. Rhydion is the solution to this problem And I have something he wants. I bet I can get him to play ball.

Hang on, Lord Seiji, Kasser protested, doesnt the thing he wants involve you going adventuring with his party? As their healer? Am I the only one who thinks that sounds like eleven kinds of disasters just waiting for an excuse?

No, Kasser, we all possess basic sense, thanks for your concern, I snapped. Its not as if I like this idea. But I have to do something. If this is the only thing I can do, its what Ill have to do. Never mind it being the right thing to help people, all of this is my fault.

He lowered his eyes, frowning pensively. Nazralind gave me a warm smile across the table.

Speaking of that, though, I said, this is also exactly the kind of thing a Hero would stick his sword into, and With all respect to Yoshi and his crew, they will definitely fuck it up and cause exactly the kind of blowback Naz was talking about.

Are they even still on Dount? Aster asked pointedly. We havent heard a peep out of them in months.

They are on Dount to cause trouble for the goblins, which means the goblins are paying very close attention to them, and I paid Maugro to inform me if they either do anything interesting or give up and leave. He hasnt informed me, so I presume theyve been spinning their wheels, basically just like Rhydion has been with his zombie problem. Oh! That reminds me, was there any word from the goblins while we were away from the fortress?

Not on their own initiative, Minifrit replied. I did check in on them while you were away, Lord Seiji. Apparently Maugro was unavailable when I called down the tunnel, but that junior agent of his appeared, Maizo. He seemed quiteharried. I gather events in the tunnels are tense at the moment, but when I asked after the goblins welfare he rather curtly told me that goblin business was none of ours, and to refrain from summoning them unless we wished to conduct commerce.

Could be worse, I guess, I grimaced. Okay, then, the next matter of concern is our strategic position. Nobody I met as the Healer in the last week seemed to connect the Inferno with my, ah, signature spell. It seems like all the miracles in other countries provided suspiciously good camouflage for that, too. But somebody will definitely put it together. And we still dont know who or what caused all thoseugh, signs and portents. Biribo claims that only the Goddesses or the Devil King even could have done it, and that all three of them werent likely to.

And I stand by that, Biribo chimed in.

Well, I mean, whoever it was had to have been friendly to us, right? Kasser offered. Cos lets face it, none of that helped anybody except us.

Just off the top of my head, said Nazralind, that was as much a life-saver for the Fflyr government as us. If it became known there was a Dark Lord on Dount, Dlemathlys would be an annexed province of Lancor by the end of the month.

The Fflyr government, as you just pointed out, isnt even capable of securing its own borders, said Minifrit. They definitely dont have the capability to cause miraculous events in multiple countries simultaneously. You would be hard-pressed to convince me the King even learned of the Inferno in time to order a response, even were he capable of executing one.

It was just an example, Nazralind said impatiently. My point is, politics are complicated, and they get more so the bigger the scale on which you consider them. Countless potential factions benefit from muddying the waters. Anyone who knows where the Dark Crusade is beginning has an advantage over those who dont yet; many would stir up much bigger trouble than this to preserve that advantage for just a little longer. What it comes down to is that someone out there did this, and almost certainly for their own benefit. Any help to us is purely incidental. We shouldnt forget that someone is going to be coming at us.

And thats what it comes down to, I agreed. The material and economic effects on Dount, the strategic implications for us Were looking at mitigation, not salvation. People wont starve over the winter, but its going to be tight for everyonestarting immediately, and for a good while to come. We dont have the attention of the entire world rushing toward us, but Dount is now one of the sites every power on the archipelago is going to be investigating, which means the clock is ticking. Were going to be found sooner than later. There is now an indeterminate grace period until the Dark Crusade has to get kicked off in earnest, which means we need to be ready for it.

Okay, Kasser said, wincing. Butlikehow? I hate to be the party pooper, Lord Seiji, but I dont see us being in a position to even conquer Gwyllthean in the nextwhat? Year? Let alone deal with Lancor and whoever else.

First of all, Im not Yomiko, I said. Im not in her situation and I have a very different set of aptitudes and resources. Thinking in terms of conquest was always going to be a losing proposition for me; Ive succeeded by working surreptitiously. Whatever strategy we pursue next should leverage that rather than brute force. As for how to go about getting ready for the big fight I have several potential plans Im working on, but I dont want to commit to one prematurely. A lot depends on the outcome of my next battle.

Ah, yes, Minifrit said, blowing a streamer of smoke at the ceiling. Your planned confrontation with Caldimer Olumnach.

Exactly. We know where his agents are positioned and distributed in the Gutters. The next step is to arrange a meeting. And depending on how that works out, Ill decide what to do next.

Well, closer to home, Minifrit continued, Biribos prediction was accurate.

Hell, of course it was! my familiar blustered. Whatre we talking about?

She blew smoke at him, smiling in muted amusement. The dark elf. Lord Seijis supplies disappeared from the pantry, replaced by a pile of coins. Viryan coinage. In fact, they rather significantly overpaid.

Sounds right, said Biribo. Theyd wanna show largesse, since theyre in an inferior position.

That, Aster countered with a grin, or, like we decided earlier, theyre a displaced aristocrat who probably doesnt know the value of basic supplies.

Id believe that, Nazralind muttered. No need to make fun of them, for it. That could happen to anyone.

I rested my forehead in one hand. You know, I wasnt just bullshitting at the cats. I am just about out of patience with this creep and their nonsense. Its nice that theyre trying to help and all, but their fucking up has already gotten people killed. Is there any way to make them just show up and talk to us like a normal person?

Boss, a Viryan noble would probably rather die than end up as anyones servant, even a Dark Lords. Theyll want to be on footing to present themselves as a valued ally. Keep in mind this person has been starving in the forest formonths, probably, and prefers that to the risk of becoming a pawn. With Viryansespecially Viryans whore accustomed to powertrying to force them into subordinate positions tends to trigger the kind of fight other people put up when their lives are in danger. If you wanna force the issue, the best approach is to engineer a situation where they have the opportunity to prove their value.

I massaged my temples. What a fucking headache. All right, fine, Illtry to come up with something. More immediately Aster, Naz, I know we just got back, but now that weve checked in and settled this place

We need to head out again, Aster finished, nodding. I understand, Lord Seiji, theres no time for screwing around. Better deal with Olumnach as soon as possible.

Thats the plan.

Back on Earth I, like everyone with an iota of sense, had never gone anywhere near organized criminals or any of the shit they were known to peddle. It was a sound policy which Id recommend to anyone, but it left me unprepared for the amount of diplomacy involved in setting up a meeting between two underworld powers, or the weird nature of that diplomacy.

It wasnt hard to find Olumnachs people once we reached the Gutters; thanks to the goblins, I had a solid handle on their deployment and schedule. It varied a bit; it had been a couple of weeks and the Inferno had happened in the interim, but there was only so much they could vary and still stay in business. On the first day back in Gwyllthean, I cornered a well-dressed man in the process of delivering orders or collecting a report or something from a gang. After tossing the lot of them around a street with strategic Windbursts, I instructed him to carry a message to his boss.

What ensued was a protracted exercise in frustration.

For three days I made a point of visiting the Gutters every night, intercepting and interrogating (politelywell, relatively politely) the Olumnach agents who were running the new gangs in town. After the second day, they started trying to avoid me, which thanks to Biribo was futile. All of them had the same answer: Highlord Caldimer had heard my request and would respond at his leisure.

I didnt kill any of them, or even scuff them up more than was necessary to get them to sit still for a chat. It was tempting, but I was, after all, trying to open a dialogue here.

What is this guys problem? I complained aloud on the third dawn, as we were settling in for our daily rest at Nazralinds old camp in the poison khora grove, which had been untouched by the Inferno. Im the guy who killed the enemy he wanted dead, and the competitor who wiped out her organization and took a massive bite out of his. Thats two reasons he needs to talk to me. Is he just an idiot?

Idiot is a strong word, Lord Seiji, Nazralind answered, fighting a smile, but, wellits not uncommon for the decisions of highborn to be weighted more heavily toward pride than reason.

Thats a way to put it, all right, Aster said dryly.

Consider it good practice for when you start dealing with Viryans on the regular, boss, Biribo suggested. Him and our dark elf buddy back at the fortress. To some extent, the behavior of people interested in power is universal, its just that Viryans have formal methodologies for it. Hes asserting dominance by making you wait. Yeah, he undoubtedly does want to have an actual meeting, but he feels the need to put you in your place first, so he can go into said meeting on favorable footing.

Yes, that, said Nazralind, nodding emphatically. Exactly.

Oh, really, I growled. Asserting dominance, is it?

Oh, here we go, Aster groaned.

Here we go! Nazralind cheered.

Starting the next day, I began seeking out and spending time with the gangsters, the ones imported from the countryside territories I had taken over. To begin with, they were afraid of me. Obviously; they were gangsters, so in order to approach them un-robbed I always had to open with a demonstration of why fucking with me was a fantastically bad idea. But after pushing them around with some flashy spells, I gave out healing, and then I listened to their problems, like some kind of therapist.

Immediately I ran into a roadblock of suspicion, as these boys had heard enough by now to suspect I had murdered a bunch of their friends. It was one I could resolve easily enough by sending Naz on a messenger run back to North Watch, to collect reports from Minifrit on how the new folks we were recruiting were doing. It took her a couple more days to gather that, since a lot of them were still spread through the forest camps, but once she was back, I quickly made myself the favorite person of the new Gutters gangs, simply by being able to update them on the well-being of their friends. That, and the free healing; these guys managed to get themselves roughed up a lot more than they were used to. Apparently the population of the Gutters was getting uppity and had less patience with criminals than they had in Grays day.

Part of me wanted to start giving orders concerning the treatment of locals; my bandits strictly chose targets who could afford to be robbed and employed the minimum possible force in every situation. I told them about this, but didnt yet insist on it. The gangs were under Olumnachs thumb and had quotas to bring in, or it was their asses.

The upside of that was their seething hatred of their Clan masters, and how neatly I could weaponize that by making a big show of smacking them around.

For the first entire week, I made a game of tormenting the agents of Clan Olumnach: the rules were that I could only use Windburst and Heal and move at a walk, and the objective was to see how long I could bat them around like a sadistic housecat with a mouse before they managed to escape my clutches. My record, reached on night four, was an hour and a half. I left them shaken and bruised, but never seriously harmed, I made sure of that. I quickly earned the hatred of the Clan, but made myself the beloved dangerous mascot of the gangs.

I gave it fifty-fifty odds whether Highlord Olumnach would care about or even notice the state of morale among his lowborn pawns, but hed definitely see the shift in the more well-bred lackeys he used to control them.

There was a positive result of Olumnach keeping me waiting, at least: I had time to check on the various other irons I had in the fire in and around Gwyllthean.

Captain Norovena had some details about the islands recovery efforts which I mentally filed away to direct some later relief of my own where it would do the most good. He was also in a position to have a more complete picture of the damage, which continued to reassure me. Most of the Fflyr didnt actually live in or even too close to the khora, so the Inferno had for many just been a terrifying spectacle that posed no immediate threat to people, animals, or structures. A lot of grass fires had been started, and those had resulted in more harm than the actual khora burning. Displaced animals had been the biggest problem for a while, gradually replaced as they crept back to their old habitats by increasing encounters on the edges of the forest with desperate beastfolk who seemed to have lost their homes. I managed not to cringe, hearing about that; clearly I would need to reach out to the local tribes and offer some help.

Not the cats, though. Those fuckers could come to me if they wanted to play nicely.

Norovena casually mentioned that the Healer had been seen giving aid all up and down the island. The air in his office all but thundered with the pointed questions he did not ask.

Master Auldmaer confirmed Minifrit and Kassers speculation about economic developments following the Inferno. The wheels had already begun turning; Clans and merchant houses alike were moving to corner every market they could, extending predatory loans to the khora cultivators who had been affected, and beginning to stockpile food from the fresh harvest. In fact, apparently theyd been prompted by this to start hoarding whatever else they could get their hands on; Auldmaer told me that kind of contagious panic was pretty typical when a run on any commodity occurred. He perked up immediately when I said plans were in the works to put a stop to all this behavior. As Id thought, a man in his position with advance knowledge of something about to happen could surely find a way to profit from it, and since it was specifically not going to be bandit activity that broke the hoarders grip, he could even do so openly. This might be the next big thing for the Auldmaer Company, the major play hed been on the lookout for since the shimmersatin job. I promised to give him as much advance notice as I could of whatever was about to unfold.

All the downtime, frustrating as it was, gave me the opportunity to check up on what Id set in motion in the Gutters, as well. The canals were already noticeably cleaner, all over. It seemed the slimes had spread far enough that the outermost canals ran clear and almost clean enough to drink out of. I say almost because nobody I met was stupid enough to test that; if you get your water from a canal, you boil the shit out of it, full stop. Even so, the difference was night and day. The spread of disease was already noticeably down, and for the first time probably ever, the Gutters didnt stink.

I was here in my persona as Lord Seiji and the relatively few who had connected the two didnt hang around with the lowborn down here, so I had freedom to move without being constantly mobbed. The Healer, it seemed, had leaped right past local folk hero and nearly to the role of saint. Between cleaning the canals, healing the villagers after the Inferno, and donating the healing slime, the Healers stock had never been higher.

Actually, that was the one thing that had not gone as Id intended: the healing slime was still in the possession of the Convocation. It turned out Kings Guild adventurers had been brought in to do round the clock guard duty on it. The good adventurers, the ones nobody wanted to fuck with and even I would hesitate to tackle more than one at a time.

Plus there are three healing slimes now, Aster reported after a rumor-gathering session, once we were safely private on a rooftop. They immediately figured out they reproduce just like normal slimes. So its exponential; as long as theyve got trash to feed them, their numbers will keep growing faster until the whole population explodes.

Well, blow me down, theyre actually being smart about this, Nazralind marveled, shaking her head. I thought for sure the Convocation would want to hoard a resource like that, same as anyone else, but Yeah, eventually something like that would escape into the environment and become widely available; this way, they get to take credit for doing it on purpose. Hells revels, they could even get a political leg up on the Radiant Temple by unleashing free healing slimes on Ephemera. And of course, once theyre not scarce, nobodys going to bother trying to steal them, so theyll only need the guards at first.

Huh, I grunted. Yknowconsidering my strategy was just foiled, Im strangely unable to be upset by this. Free healing for the poor? Yeah, that seems like a good days work.

Relax, the Healer still gets credit for kicking it all off, Aster said, smiling and gently elbowing me. There were way too many witnesses for the Convocation to bury it.

Thats true. Also, though, damn. I had better be really careful to douse any fire slimes I summon. Therell be hell to pay if those get loose.

All this was well and good, but Caldimer Olumnach was still wasting my precious time. I could practically feel the eyes on the back of my head as seconds counted down. All manner of agents from every major power on Ephemera were closing in; undoubtedly some were already poking around Dount, as they were every other site which had seen a miracle. Thanks to the plethora of those signs and portents, nobody seemed to have connected the spell Immolate with the Inferno, but I knew the trail existed. Sooner or later, somebody good enough to follow it would stumble across its end. And still, the overbred fool wasted my time.

So I did what I do best: escalated.