Throne Hunters Book 3, Chapter 2

They repaired to the library once more after finishing lunch, and there were served coffees and desserts. Everyone claimed chairs, but the focal point clearly remained the countess, who sat by the empty hearth.

“Vic, Nessa, I understand that until now you’ve only been part of my scale-harvesting crew. What I’m about to discuss therefore doesn’t pertain to your previous line of work. It is my hope, however, that you’ll be amenable to helping Harald with what’s to come?”

“Depends,” said Nessa, smiling apologetically, “on the job, and the pay.”

“So cutthroat,” said Vic. “But she is, I fear, mostly accurate. I say mostly, because I find my mercenary tendencies compromised by my growing fondness for Harry. It’d be hard to let him sally forth against overwhelming danger without feeling some desire to help.”

“Thanks,” smiled Harald.

“And yourself, Miss Tuppins?” Countess Sonora looked to Sam. “You wish to remain a free agent, but are, I believe, instrumental to Harald’s long-term success and health. Can I trust that you’ll be involved?”

“Absolutely,” said Sam. “Though of course I’ll have to hear what’s being asked of us first.”

Kársek bowed his head. “There is no need to ask me the same question, my lady. I will assist Harald in whatever matters his honor dictates.”

“Very well. Then let’s discuss the state of House Sonora.” The countess smoothed her dress over her thighs, gathered her thoughts, and smiled tightly. “As you know, my fortunes have been greatly reduced by my enemies. My father ruled over a mercantile empire whose backbone was a mine in Marheim and a dozen Marheim foundries that churned out weapons and armor for their endless wars and feuds. All that was lost shortly before my father died, ostensibly due to their civil war, but that was a lie used by my father’s enemies to disguise their machinations.”

Harald nodded; Vic had told him as much before.

“The loss of our Marheim assets was a terrible blow. Much of our revenue dried up, and it began the downward spiral of loss that I’ve been unable to reverse. We used to have access to numerous properties here in Flutic, ranging from warehouses to smithies to immense influence over the mercantile area of the Marheim Gate, but that’s all done and gone.”

“Done and gone?” asked Sam.

“I technically still own those properties, seeing as I’ve refused to sell them, but without the means to defend them… well.” The countess smiled bitterly. “My enemies simply pushed my people out and now claim their profits. Once my last commercial properties were taken from me, it took little work for my foes to undercut my trade agreements with local merchants and guilds.”

“But you still own these properties?” asked Harald. “You have the deeds? Why haven’t you gone to the Treasury to have your rivals evicted?”

“Oh, I’ve raged and made demands and sent countless letters demanding my rights be enforced,” said Countess Sonora. “Everybody from Lord Draken down pretends to be shocked and promises to investigate the matter, but of course nothing happens. My obvious weakness means nobody feels compelled to antagonize the strong. I’m sure hefty bribes have been paid to keep court officials quiet. Nothing has and nothing will come of the standard avenues of complaint.”

“Shocking,” said Nessa dryly, bouncing one foot as she sipped her tea.

“Quite,” said Countess Sonora. “Which leaves me with a ghost empire that I can’t control, and former contacts and mercantile allies who drift ever farther away with each passing year. I could visit them in person, ask that their contracts with my father be honored, but to what end? I’ve no goods coming in from Marheim, and the products of my local smithies are traded by my enemies and sold abroad.”

“Don’t forget your residential properties,” murmured Vic from the corner of the parlor. “And your lost rents.”

“Yes.” Countess Sonora nodded briskly. “My grandfather and father both would use our profits to buy homes and tenements to rent out across the city, but with most of them being concentrated in Marheim Gate. Again, I still own the deeds, but the tenants have been convinced - I like to think, coerced - into paying the rents to the thugs that pass by every month.”

“How much revenue are your losing from them?” asked Harald.

“I own seventy-five properties, ranging from four small manors at the edge of the Angelic Quarter that once generated eight Aurora Veils per month to twenty-four tenements in the Shambles that generated two Veils and four Golden Dawns. The rest are town houses and apartments in the Marheim Gate area that should be bringing in two Zenith Tides and just under four Veils. All told? The rental income should be about 33,900 Copper Crescents per month.”

Sam let out a low whistle then immediately clamped her hand over her mouth, face going red.

“That’s four Horizon’s Whispers a year,” said Nessa. “No wonder you’re bitter.”

“Bitter, yes.” The countess smiled. “That’s one way to put it. And all that was but a drop in the bucket compared to what the mines, foundries, and smithies brought in. Our goods were sold at premium prices at the Gate, and my father’s ledgers attest to monthly incomes of about a Horizon’s Whisper. Our best year, nearly fifteen years back, saw our annual profit at over a Twilight Infinitum.”

Harald’s breath caught. The entire annual profit of the Sonora mercantile empire at its height was equal to the value of the scale his father had left him. Further, it would have taken almost every scale they’d made back then to attempt to purchase the Goldchops.

Harald felt sobered. The Nightshard his father had recovered from the dungeon had been worth ten years of the Sonora’s best profits. No wonder he’d been able to purchase Darrowdelve Manor and immediately settle into a luxurious lifestyle that had lasted until his death.

“And now all those scales flow into the hands of callous Marheim barons and depraved Flutic nobles,” said Vic. “Chief amongst them being the dastardly Count Gorkin.”

“May his intestines sour and come to house such a stupendous number of worms that he bursts after a month’s pained labor,” said the countess flatly.

“See?” Vic grinned at Harald. “That’s why I love her.”

“So you face House Gorkin,” said Harald, “and who else?”

“House Gorkin, who bends knee to House Veridian, House Trench, who does the same, and House Varschik, who owes fealty to House Thornvale.”

They were all relatively minor houses, none of them on the scale of a Drakenhart or Celestara, but combined they were a formidable force. “Count Gorkin, however, is the ringleader?”

Countess Sonora nodded. “He leads the triumvirate, with Duke Trench proving strangely biddable to his demands. Count Varschik is a known opportunist, and no doubt simply pitched in with Gorkin for purely mercenary reasons.”

“And have they divided your holdings equally between them?” asked Harald.

“My main warehouse in the Marheim Gate is controlled by Gorkin, who also receives the rents from my four Angelic Quarter manor houses. Varschik has laid claim to the properties in the Shambles, since he’s a slum lord extraordinaire to begin with, while Trench controls my smithies and properties in the Gate.”

“Strange,” said Nessa. “I would think Gorkin as the ringleader would want more than just a warehouse and four rental incomes.”

“Not when you consider that he probably draws a stipend to this day from the Black Iron Baron in Marheim. That’s got to be worth a Zenith Tide per month, at least.”

“Without Gorkin having to lift a finger,” said Vic. “Masterfully played on his part, to be honest.”

“Quite,” said Countess Sonora. “So, there you have it. The ruins of my former holdings and mercantile empire. Without income, I have been unable to maintain my guard or even a full complement of household servants. The best I’ve been able to do is refuse to bend knee.” Her smile was tight with emotion, her eyes bright with pain. “Your thoughts?”

Harald leaned forward. “With what forces do these lords hold your properties? Do we have a sense of who they are and how strong?”

“I may have done some light reconnaissance for the sheer fun of it,” said Vic. “Only to pass the time, you understand. The main warehouse is guarded by the Red Fist, a small mercenary company of elite reputation. Over the course of the past decade they’ve all but become Count Gorkin’s personal guard.”

Kársek had been stroking his short beard pensively, but at this he perked up. “I know of them. Freyka and I signed with the Free Company upon arriving in Flutic. The Red Fist sought to recruit us, thinking that as dwarves we could provide some unique utility. We turned them down. Anyone interested in hiring two no-account dwarves before their first delve couldn’t be an outfit worth working for.”

“You’re too modest, Master Kársek,” said Countess Sonora.

“No, I was less formidable then than I am now,” replied the dwarf. “The Red Fist is led by a human Silver-ranked raider called Jacek Firio. He’s a dangerous man, and it is his power that keeps the outfit together. His second is a half-elf woman called Silver Sylvia, known as Two Deaths. She is also greatly feared. The third figure of note in their group is another human male known as the Night Watchman. Nobody volunteered much information about him.”

“All right,” said Harald. “So the Red Fists guard the warehouse and probably Gorkin’s private estate. I’m guessing the warehouse is seeing a lot of use, then?”

Vic nodded. “Gorkin’s getting his money’s worth.”

“And the smithies in Marheim Gate?”

“The Flutic guards patrol that area heavily,” said Vic, “seeing as so much commerce comes in and leaves through the Gate proper. But my idle visits to each smithy saw a good dozen hard lads on the ready. Of course, with the countess not having done anything since, Duke Trench may have relaxed his vigil.”

“The rental properties can’t be guarded,” said Sam. “They must instead send out teams to collect the rent.”

“Correct,” said Vic. “I just happened to be lingering by one of the manor houses on rent day. The team was slight, only three men, a nominal force. Of course, they’re not the muscle. I assume if they were rebuffed, they’d report back to their respective lord, who would then punish the tenants as well as begin the process of hunting us down.”

“I see.” Harald considered. “So ultimately, it’s not enough to just seize any of these properties or convince the tenants to resume paying us their monthly rents. We need to break Gorkin, Trench, and Varschik.”

“Which is no small task.” The countess all but grimaced. “I’ve not the power nor the strength to contest them. As they well know.”

“If I may,” said Sam. “Having been a Majordomo for so many years, I’ve a good understanding as to what motivates nobles. These three will be motivated by either the purse or the heart. I’d wager it’s the purse for Varschik and Trench, and a true enmity on the part of Gorkin.”

“Gorkin loathed my father,” Countess Sonora said quietly. “The others are jackals come to feast on the corpse.”

Harald wanted to ask why the loathing, but hesitated.

“That being the case,” continued Sam, “we need to simply find the point at which it becomes too costly for Trench and Varschik to pursue this war. With Gorkin, however…”

“Gorkin must die,” said Harald, tone bleak. Everyone looked at him with varying levels of shock, except for Countess Sonora, who nodded, and Kársek, who simply continued stroking his beard. “You’ll never rest easy with him out there, no matter how soundly we defeat his men.”

“An assassination?” Vic considered. “I like it. Kill the snake by cutting off its head.”

“No easy feat,” mused Nessa. “Count Gorkin will know that to be the countess’ most efficient play. He’ll have a strong bodyguard with him at all times.”

“But if we do kill him,” said Harald, “we’ll have removed the leader from the board, leaving Trench and Varschik rudderless and in fear for their lives.”

“First, a word of caution,” said Countess Sonora. “If there’s anything the Flutic nobility have zero tolerance for, it’s assassination. All else is fair, but killing each other is verboten. They’ll unite as one against me if they decide I was the agent behind Gorkin’s death. I wouldn’t last a week.”

“Of course,” said Nessa. “The masses must be dissuaded from thinking their leaders can be hurt.”

“We still need to kill Gorkin,” said Harald. “Just in a way that’s impossible to connect back to you.”

“Everyone knows about their rivalry,” said Vic. “Gorkin’s been gloating like a fox that got into the henhouse for years.”

“But if there’s no proof?” asked Harald.

Vic nodded. “If there is absolutely no proof, why, then they may even covertly admire the countess for being so sly. But ensuring it’s that neatly done is no mean feat.”

“Though it is our best first move,” said Nessa. “Anything else, any other strike against their forces will put all three on their guard. Our boldest and riskiest strike should come at them like a bolt from the heavens, catching them completely unprepared.”

Harald nodded, feeling the first prickles of excitement. “Taking the warehouse, fighting off the rent collectors, all that will signal that trouble’s afoot. It’s been a decade since Gorkin made his move. He’s at his most relaxed now.”

“Which isn’t very relaxed,” said the countess. “He never attends court without his bodyguards, has his food tasted, and his manor is so absurdly fortified that I can hardly be his only enemy.”

Kársek smiled grimly. “A weasel makes enemies out of every chicken.”

“Would that there were more chickens,” said Vic.

Sam half-raised her hand. “Would it be worth looking into allying with some of his other rivals…?”

“Darling,” said Vic. “You don’t need to raise your hand.” Sam blushed and jerked her hand down immediately. “But while a good idea, in practice it’s too dangerous.”

“Vic’s right,” said the countess. “My House is too weak to be a worthwhile ally. If anything, we’d probably be seen as a liability.”

Sam nodded hurriedly.

“The question is how to learn of Gorkin’s defenses without alerting him,” said Harald thoughtfully.

“I would offer to seduce him,” said Vic, “but the very thought makes me retch a little in my mouth.”

“If I still had my Majordomo class I could attempt to infiltrate his household,” said Sam, her tone clearly reluctant.

“Does he have heirs?” asked Harald.

“No,” said the countess. “I like to think it’s because no woman would let him touch her, but most likely he’s just barren. He pays for enough whores.”

“He does?” Vic sat up. “How did I not know this?”

Nessa laughed. “Darling, do you really think every whore checks in with you before heading out for the night?”

Vic put a hand to his chest. “They should. Nobody cares about their well-being more than I do.”

“Pastoric would like a word,” smiled Nessa.

“That man doesn’t count.” Vic scowled. “He’s…” Then he glanced at the countess and sat up. “He’s of absolutely no account, and we shouldn’t be talking about this, Nessa.”

Harald tried to remain focused. “But he does bring whores into his home?”

“Forget it, Harald.” Nessa’s tone remained mild. “I will never pretend to be a whore so as to infiltrate his home on some harebrained scheme of yours.”

“And Sam couldn’t pull it off no matter how hard she might try,” said Vic. “She’s too wholesome.”

Sam somehow managed to blush and glower at the same time.

“Killing Count Gorkin may be the ideal first step,” said the countess briskly, as if realigning the conversation, “but it may be too formidable a challenge, and the consequences of even the slightest misstep too dire. I’d rather that not stall out our efforts altogether.”

“Right,” said Harald. “Maybe we can take a few days to do some research? If I can’t identify a way to get at him, we’ll move on to other courses of action.”

The countess inclined her head. “Of course. But the longer we wait, the more word will spread of your swearing fealty to my House, and that will no doubt put our enemies on guard.”

“Sure. I’ll not waste time.” Harald glanced around at his friends. “If we can’t strike at Gorkin directly, then I’d suggest reclaiming the warehouse and convincing the Red Fist to part ways with Gorkin. Then we could follow that up by killing all of Gorkin’s guards.”

“Killing all of Gorkin’s guards?” asked Countess Sonora.

“I have an Artifact.” Harald considered summoning it, then decided not to. “A Masterwork hatchet that’ll decimate his household guards. If we reduce them in number and divest him of the Red Fist, he’ll have to seriously regroup before coming at you.”

Countess Sonora raised an eyebrow. “Masterwork level? An inheritance from your father?”

Harald bowed his head.

“Gorkin’s no fool. If he decides I’m behind a rash of murders, he won’t hesitate to pay me a visit.”

“I’d definitely rather try to kill Gorkin first,” said Harald. “Head of the snake, and all that. It would shorten this entire conflict, and make the other two much more likely to quit the field of battle.”

“If you can do so without raising the slightest suspicion. And you won’t act without my permission.”

It wasn’t a question.

Harald rose and bowed low. “Of course not, my lady. First, we need information. We’ll make some discrete inquiries today. Vic, Nessa - do either of you know whom we could approach to learn more about all this?”

The pair exchanged a glance.

“Sure,” said Vic. “But discretion is paid for, not freely given.”

“Though being willing to pay too much is notable in and of itself,” added Nessa.

“Red Jilly?” asked Vic.

“Perhaps. But she’s got a loose tongue when playing poker. Aldeban?”

“I thought he was dead?”

“Well, now that you mention it, I haven’t heard from him in ages. Master Thigpen?”

“Maybe, maybe. He’d definitely know who to talk to. But frankly, the man disgusts me. Hmm.” Vic rubbed at his chin. “It’ll take some work and some scales, but I’m sure we could turn up some dirt.”

“Very well,” said the countess, though her apprehension was obvious. “How strange. For the first time in far too long I actually feel excitement over the future instead of dread. Thank you, all of you. And thank you most of all, Sir Darrowdelve, my first and only knight.”

Harald grinned and sketched a formal bow. “The first of many, I’m sure. I’ll come back as soon as we’ve learned something of use.”

Countess Sonora inclined her head. “Then I look forward to hearing from you soon.”

“Very soon,” said Harald. “I can’t wait to bring a little justice to Flutic.”

“It’s called vigilantism if it’s brought with the edge of your sword,” said Nessa wryly.

Harald laughed. “Sure. And luckily, since that’s the only kind to be had, it’s becoming my favorite.”