Grand Game 480: Dire Threats

Nicola and the ten merchants he’d selected got to work immediately. Moving from corpse to corpse in the storeroom, they stripped them with practiced ease. 

They’ve done this before, I thought.

For a moment, I was tempted to stay and watch, but I forced myself out of the room. I’d assigned the task to Nicola, and now that I had, I had to let him get on with it. 

“Delegation,” I muttered sourly. If I was going to lead House Wolf, it was something I was going to have to do time and again. Better I made my peace with the idea now.

“Are we leaving?” Ghost asked excitedly as I left the basement level.

She meant the fort, I knew. “Just a few more hours, I promise.”

“Oh! That soon.” A pause. “What about the reward you’re expecting from the envoy?”

“You mean the promissory note?”

“Yes, that.”

“We might still have to wait for Tyelin to resurrect before we leave,” I admitted, “but I’m hoping that won’t be necessary.”

“Oh.” Another pause. “So, if we’re not waiting for the envoy, and if we’re not looting the Riders and Blades… what are we doing for the next few hours?” 

“Sleeping,” I replied so promptly it surprised her. “It’s been a long night,” I added ruefully. Which was an understatement. I wasn’t swaying on my feet just yet, but I also couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept, and that was never a good thing.

“Is it safe to sleep in the fort?” she asked cautiously.

“Ordinarily, it wouldn’t be. But this one has a safe zone—an unowned safe zone. We’ll be safe there.”

✵ ✵ ✵

The safe zone was in the exact center of the fort, and curiously enough, occupied only the ground floor. As I made my way to it, I wondered why this was the case. 

Was it merely a peculiarity of this sector? Or would the same thing happen to other safe zones if entire buildings were constructed around them? But before my thoughts had a chance to venture too far down this path of idle speculation, a message from the Adjudicator flashed for attention.

A faction has staked a claim to sector 75,172!

The Silent Blades have established a cordon of more than 1,000 soldiers around the sector’s safe zone. If the cordon remains unbroken for a full 24 hours, ownership of sector 75,172 will transfer to the Silent Blades.

My lips turned up in grudging respect. Hotheaded though he might be, Banyen had moved quickly to complete his objective. “Well done,” I congratulated as I drew to stop in front of him and the ten score mercenaries standing guard before the reinforced doors leading to the safe zone’s entrance.

The Blade scowled despite my civil words and tone. “What are you doing here?”

I raise one eyebrow. “I’m here to visit the safe zone, of course.”

“Safe zone is closed,” he said brusquely.

“No, it’s not,” I replied pleasantly.

“Yes, it is damn well—” The words died on Banyen’s lips as he caught the cold look in my eyes. 

I smiled. Wise of him to refrain. “Let me through,” I requested—quite politely, I thought.

“No one is being allowed in,” Banyen said stiffly.

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why is no one being allowed in?” I asked reasonably.

“Because they might aid the Riders!”

My brows rose higher. “What about the merchants?”

“They’re under commission,” Banyen replied, “and Pact-bound not to serve any Riders.”

“Interesting,” I murmured, even though his statement didn’t quite track with Nicola’s willingness—eagerness even—to sell to the Riders, but that was not a topic I wanted to pursue now. “But I don’t mean the civilians you brought with you. I’m talking about the merchants already inside—the ones contracted by the Riders.”

“What? What do you—?” Breaking off, Banyen spun around to see if the doors had somehow magically opened while we’d been speaking. But, of course, they were still closed. “How do you know about them?” he demanded.

I tapped the side of my head solemnly. “You can’t hide anything from me, Banyen. I know all your secrets.”

The Blade stared at me suspiciously, suspecting he was being made fun of but uncertain.

“Now tell me your plan for dealing with them,” I said, managing to keep a straight face.

Banyen’s brows furrowed. “They’re civilians. Why would I need to deal with them, much less require a plan for it?”

Bowing my head, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Tell me, Banyen, which group of players do you think is going to resurrect first?”

“Er… I don’t see how—”

“Let me help you,” I said, interrupting him. “Thinking back, it started with that group of eight—no it was the six first, then the eight. After that it was Titus’ group—and there were more than a few dozen in that one.” I held the Blade’s gaze. “What do you think will happen when all those players—every one a Rider, mind you—resurrects and rearms themselves?”

Glaring at me hotly, Banyen said nothing.

My gaze shifted to the mercenary commander beside him. “What about you, Haskell? Do you have an opinion?”

“We die,” he said laconically.

“That’s right,” I said, my gaze returning to the Blade. “You die. And you lose the sector. So, tell me, Banyen, how do we stop that from happening?”

He licked his lips. “We get rid of the merchants,” he said tightly.

I smiled. “Exactly.”

“But I already tried that,” he burst out. “The stubborn bastards won’t listen. They refuse to leave!”

My smile broadened. “Leave it to me. I’m sure I can convince them.”

✵ ✵ ✵

You have entered a safe zone. Mimic spell not dispelled.

I passed through the doors as I was—in my guise as Jasiah. 

I had toyed—briefly—with the idea of impersonating Malikor, but in the end, I decided that was not necessary. ‘Jasiah’ had garnered enough infamy in the sector to suitably impress the merchants, and with him, there was less risk of being caught out in a lie.

The safe zone itself was nothing more than a large chamber. An ornate, bejeweled chair sat at the far end, and just in case anyone was confused as to the chair’s purpose, a lush red carpet led directly to it from the entrance.

“You see that, Ghost?” I asked in amusement. “It’s styled like a throne room.”

There was no immediate response from Ghost, and after a second, I realized none would be forthcoming. The pyre wolf was asleep—in fact, she had been forcibly put to sleep. 

My amusement faded. It seemed that even when it came to unmanifested familiars, the Game would enforce its injunction against non-players in the safe zone. The bond between me and my familiar had been… not severed but tied down rather.

“Why have you stopped?” Banyen hissed.

I glanced at the young Blade by my side. He’d insisted on accompanying me, and unwisely, I’d acceded to his wishes. 

Banyen was not looking at me. Instead, his gaze roved over the two dozen or so men and women lining the throne room’s left and right walls. I’d spotted the merchants myself but had pointedly decided to ignore them, a tactic I hoped would increase their uncertainty and leave them guessing as to my intent. 

Alas, it was also a tactic that had been spoiled by Banyen. 

In the place of doubt, I saw fury and anger in the watching faces as their gazes fixed on the Blades by my side. I sighed. Serves me right for bringing Banyen. 

“Stay here,” I ordered, making no attempt to lower my voice.

Banyen’s gaze darted to me. “But—” 

“No buts. Do as you’re told.”

The young Blade turned an unfortunate shade of red, but he complied with my wishes nevertheless and stayed unmoving as I strode further into the room.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I spotted narrowing eyes and tentative smiles. Good, I thought, keeping my own expression studiedly neutral. That should have undone some of the damage.

Reaching the exact center of the chamber, I turned around in a slow circle. “You all know who I am.”

Saying nothing, the Rider merchants stared at me intently.

“I am Jasiah, the one who slew Malikor. I’m also the one responsible for killing every Rider in this fort.”

A thickset trader named Alick snorted disdainfully. “A dead man is what you are.”

I shifted to face him. “Really? What makes you say that?”

“Mammon is coming,” he retorted, “that’s what.”

I smiled. “Are you sure about that?”

He stuck out his jaw. “Yeah. I am.”

My smile broadened. “Excellent. I do hate sitting around doing nothing. How soon can I expect him?”

Consternation flickered across Alick’s face, but he didn’t back down. “You should run. Because when Mammon gets here, he’ll gut you like a pig!”

“I don’t fear Mammon,” I said mildly. Drawing stamina, I reconfigured my face—and my Marks. “Why should I?” 

You have cast mimic, transforming your visage into that of Alick, a human trader. 

You have unconcealed your Powerful Initiate Mark. 

“Look! His face, it’s changed!”

“Forget his face, check his Marks!”

“The rumors were right. He is a Power.”

Ignoring the whispered comments, I folded my arms and stared down the trader, waiting for his answer.

Alick, however, was still belligerent. “So, you’re an Initiate Power, so what? You’re still no match for Mammon!”

“An Initiate Power?” I repeated. “Oh, but I’m not that.” I gestured to my face. “This is just another façade.”

The trader’s eyes narrowed. “Show your true face then. Show us who you really are.”

I shook my head sorrowfully. “I can’t do that, Alick. That’ll give the Game away. But never fear, Mammon will know my true name before he dies.”

A mix of emotions played across the trader’s face but before he could retort, another merchant spoke up. “Is that why you’re here? To kill Mammon?”

“Yes,” I replied succinctly.

 “Then why bother coming here and telling us any of that?” someone else asked.

“Because,” I said, waving in the direction of the almost-forgotten Banyen, “I promised the Blades this sector, and by staying here and rearming the reviving Riders, you lot are only going to delay the fulfillment of that promise.” My expression hardening, I swept my gaze across them. “Make no mistake, the Riders are finished. Mammon is finished. Staying here will alter none of that. Only the price you pay will change.”

“What price is that?” the merchant asked worriedly.

“Final death,” I said coldly. “You have my word on it. I will hunt you down, no matter how long it takes and no matter where you hide. I will seek you out and see you dead.”

On the tail end of my words, a Game alert popped into the minds of the merchants. A similar one appeared in mine.

You, in the persona of Alick, have proposed a Pact with 25 players, pledging to inflict final death upon them unless they immediately leave the safe zone of sector 75,172.

“You wouldn’t!”

“How dare you!”

“We’re civilians!”

“I would. I do dare. And civilian or not, if you aid my foes, you are my enemy.” I paused. “I have no mercy to spare for my enemies. Now leave, before I seal the Pact. This is your only warning.”

✵ ✵ ✵

It didn’t take the merchants long to make up their minds. 

In the face of my dire threats, none of them, not even Alick, was willing to stay, and a minute later, the throne room was emptied out.

“Were you bluffing?” Banyen asked, the only one still in the room beside me.

I shrugged. “Maybe. Then again, maybe not.” Not waiting for his response, I made for one of the curtained-off sections behind the throne.

“Where are you going?” Banyen yelled after me.

“To sleep,” I called back. Midway to my destination, I paused and turned back. “And Banyen?”

“Yes?”

“Getting rid of the merchants was a good first step, but on its own it won’t be enough to deal with the initial wave of Riders. I suggest you call back home and beg for some reinforcements.” Assuming there was any to be had, of course.

“Won’t you help?”

“No,” I said tiredly. Turning back around, I resumed walking. “I’ve already done all that I’m willing to do. The fate of this sector is now in your hands. Good luck.”