\hypertarget{chapter-21-example}{%
\section{Chapter 21: Example}\label{chapter-21-example}}

\begin{quote}
\emph{``To conquer until all of Creation is desert or province: that is
the ideal of Praes. Mock their failures if you must but do not ever
forget their victories.''}

-- King Albert Fairfax of Callow, the Thrice-Invaded
\end{quote}

\emph{The sword tore through flesh and bone with a meaty sound, sending
the guard's head rolling on the ground. A waste -- Black would not have
pursued him, had he fled. Shaking the blood off his blade with a flick
of the wrist, the green-eyed Knight stepped deeper into the Pirate
Queen's sanctum, feet burdened with grim purpose.}

\emph{``Amateurs,'' Ranger said from his side. ``They didn't even have a
proper watch.''}

\emph{``They thought they were safe,'' Black replied.}

\emph{``They won't after tonight,'' Warlock added. ``If any of them
survive, anyway.''}

\emph{The chatter was unnecessary, but he'd long become used to
Warlock's cheerfully morbid comments enough that it barely registered.
Still, he traded a half-amused, half-exasperated glance with Ranger.
They met another corsair on their way to the throne room but this one
did not even get to open her mouth before Wekesa turned her upper body
into ash: dealing with the pirates was child's play after a year of back
alley dogfights with his rivals and the Order of the White Hand, not to
mention the civil war that followed. Not a reason to get sloppy, but
overestimating an enemy was just as dangerous as overestimating them. By
the time they reached the doors to the Pirate Queen's own throne room
the sounds of the mess outside had started to drift up to their ears.
Curses and screams of terrors tore through the night's quiet, the same
reaction Captain always elicited whens she dared to cut loose. Black
pushed open the driftwood doors in front of him without breaking stride,
ready to finally put an end to the night's slaughter.}

\emph{``They sent the Black Knight and his death squad for little `ole
me? Guess I should be flattered,'' the Queen laughed as she rose from
her throne and unsheathed her cutlass. ``So which of you feels like
dancing with death, children?''}

\emph{Ranger sighed and shot the Queen in the leg, arrow knocked and
flying faster than you could take a breath.}

\emph{``Is it me or does that never get old?'' Warlock mused. ``They
always get the funniest look on their faces when we won't play along.''}

\emph{The Pirate Queen dropped to the floor with a hoarse cry of pain,
clutching her leg. Black wasted no time closing the distance and kicked
her cutlass out of her hands.}

\emph{``You are correct,'' he said. ``I am the Black Knight.''}

\emph{``Do you have no honour --''she started.}

\emph{``No,'' Black replied, crouching to be of a height with her.}

\emph{``Drop the knife, Pirate,'' Ranger called out. ``Otherwise the
next one goes through the eye.''}

\emph{There was the clatter of metal on the ground and the Queen let go
of the blade she'd pulled from under her tunic, grimacing.}

\emph{``Fine, you lot are big and bad,'' she snarled. ``You made your
point. Why am I still alive?''}

\emph{``Because you set half of Thalassina on fire a few months back,''
Black said.}

\emph{``You going to parade me around Ater `cause I've been a bad
girl?'' the pirate asked with an ugly smile. ``And to think I'd heard
you were dropping the old way bullshit.''}

\emph{``You misunderstand me,'' the Black Knight replied. ``It takes
talent, to execute an operation of that breadth.''}

\emph{``You should work on your recruitment pitch, love,'' Queen
sneered. ``I'm feeling a mite uncooperative at the moment.''}

\emph{Black's eyes hardened.}

\emph{``Your prize ship has been sunk. Most your lieutenants are dead.
You are kneeling on the floor of your very seat of power,'' he murmured.
``Bringing you to this took me four people and a rowboat, Pirate. You
asked me what my point was? This is it\emph{. }Do not make me repeat
myself.''}

\emph{``Fuck it, and fuck you,'' the Pirate Queen smiled. ``I'm not
flying an Imperial flag, and I'm sure as Hells not gonna take orders
from the Tower. Do your worst, boy -- I've laughed in the face of harder
men than you.''}

\emph{Warlock's eyes became wreathed in fire and the dark-skinned man
stepped forward, but Black help up a hand to stop him.}

\emph{``You call yourself the Pirate Queen, but I've noticed your crews
sometimes refer to themselves as corsairs,'' the Black Knight said.}

\emph{``You trying to bore me to death, Knight? I'll give you points for
originality,''}

\emph{``Unlike pirates, corsairs are known to sometimes operate under
official sanction,'' Black said. ``Not as part of a nation's navy, but
as\ldots{} auxiliaries of a sort.''}

\emph{The Pirate Queen eyed him dubitatively.}

\emph{``If we're not raiding Praes then who?''}

\emph{``By the end of the week word will spread to the Free Cities that
the pirate threat has been dealt with,'' Black smiled coldly. ``I expect
merchant shipping to Thalassina to resume soon after.''}

\emph{``Well look at the balls on you,'' the Queen whistled. ``Won't
they just bail again when I start boarding their boats?''}

\emph{``Not if you confine yourself to a handful of them per month,''
Black said. ``A risky business, certainly, but there will be enough who
think the payoff worth it. The Dread Empire would, of course, collect a
cut in exchange for the right to operate in its waters.''}

\emph{``So you want my ships on a leash, is that it?'' the pirate
sneered. ``What if I say no?''}

\emph{The green-eyed man laid the flat of his blade on his knees.}

\emph{``That is your prerogative.''}

\emph{There was a long moment of silence as the Queen mulled over the
offer. Sighing, she finally spat in the palm of her hand and offered it
to the man in front of her. Black spat into his own without batting an
eye, ignoring her puerile attempt to crush his fingers when they shook
on it. He rose.}

\emph{``A woman named Scribe will come tomorrow to work out the details
of the arrangement. A pleasant evening to you, then,'' the Knight said
as he sheathed his sword. He made for the door, but before he could pass
the threshold the Queen called out to him.}

\emph{``Knight,'' she asked. ``If I'd said no, what would you have
done?''}

\emph{``Used your head a prop when making the same offer to your
second-in-command,'' Black replied, not even bothering to turn as he
strode out of the Pirate Queen's throne room.}

There was no slow transition between sleep and wakefulness. I was one,
then I the other. I rolled out of my sheets still tired and padded
across the room to the window. Dawn had come a gone hours ago, by the
looks of the sun. Grabbing a blanket from a seat, I wrapped myself in it
but found it did nothing to hinder the cold. It wasn't coming from
outside, I supposed. Breathing out quietly, I stared at the gardens
sprawling below and considered the Name dream I'd just woken up from.
It'd been a while, since I'd last had one of those. I'd known for years
that Black had handled the pirates based in the Tidelesse Isles after
the Empress ascended to the throne, but that there'd been a Named
involved was not common knowledge. Considering that the pirates had
first come from a Praesi fleet smashed by the Thalassocracy one at port,
that they'd eventually be forced back into Imperial service was darkly
amusing. The history lesson wasn't why I'd gotten the dream, of course.
I had decisions ahead of me.

Robber, by now, would have prisoners from the Dark Guilds. If there were
any from the Thieves I'd have to release them, but that still left the
Smugglers and the Assassins. Months ago, I'd thought to dismantle the
Guild of Assassins. Even before Ratface had laid out the logistical
difficulties of that, I'd had a little chat with the Empress on the
subject. Pointless, she'd called the entire enterprise. I still
disagreed with her. There was a difference between a handful of men and
woman who killed for coin spread all over Callow and an organized guild
of them. The part she might have been correct about was that the amount
of time and resources I'd have to sink into this far outweighed the
gains to be made -- namely, the absence of a godsdamned gang of killers
for hire in my homeland. The situation had changed since she and I had
talked: back then, all I'd had to worry about was Heiress plotting in
the south. Now I had other cats to skin than a guild that probably
killed fewer people in my territory every year than roadside accidents.

My Name was urging me to make vassals of them. Pretty bluntly, too. I
clenched my fingers and unclenched them. It wasn't a decision I was
willing to make before looking one of them in the eyes. I turned away
from the window. Breakfast, first, and then a show. Hakram should have
organized everything by now.

---

``It's not a Praesi invention, you know,'' Adjutant said.

``Huh,'' I said. ``That's surprising. They're the ones famous for it.''

The sun had melted any traces of frost our passage had made in Fairfax
Place. Not that anyone would be able to see them anyway: the plaza was
packed to the brim with the people of Laure. Hakram had to place criers
at street corners to arrange as much, since just nailing parchments
announcing the mandatory presence would have been largely pointless. The
overwhelming majority of people in the capital couldn't read, and it was
still one of the most educated places in Callow -- some of the Fairfaxes
had encouraged scholarship, though never to the extent of funding
academies like they did in some of the Proceran principalities. I
imagined that kind of expense would have been hard to justify when the
Legions could be marching on Summerholm at any time. It was impossible
for a crowd this size -- there must have been twenty thousand people in
the plaza alone -- to be silent, but it was \emph{quiet}. The appearance
of my legionaries had been so sudden no one knew quite what to make of
it.

``Miezans brought it with them over the sea,'' Hakram told me. ``It was
the punishment for rowdy slaves.''

The tall orc was standing besides me, so I could see the displeasure on
his face as he spoke. Considering orcs had made for very popular slaves
in the Miezan Empire, I could take a guess as to why.

``So when Triumphant was using it, it had\ldots{} implications,'' I
murmured.

Adjutant refrained from adding `may she never return' though his hand
twitched when he supressed the reflex of bringing his knuckles to his
forehead.

``I'm telling you this because the High Lords will think it's part of
the message you're sending,'' the orc said.

I nodded. The both of us watched Nauk's men drag the usurpers to the
tall wooden crosses we'd had placed in the middle of the plaza. Satang
looked numb, but Murad was struggling against the pair of Callowan
legionaries forcing him to move. One of them lost patience and cracked a
gauntleted hand across his mouth, drawing blood. The two Praesi were
hoisted up the cross, and then an orc brought out the iron spikes and
the hammer. Satang's hoarse scream filled the plaza as the legionary
nailed her first wrist down.

``You are rowdy slaves to me,'' I muttered. ``Well, that ought to get
their attention.''

``They'll be pushing to censure you through the Imperial court,'' Hakram
said.

``The Court I have to worry about isn't in Ater,'' I replied.

Another gut-wrenching scream echoed as the work on Murad began.

``Breaking entirely with the Tower would have consequences,'' Adjutant
said. ``Ones we are ill-equipped to handle.''

``I'll be calling myself a vicequeen, no a queen,'' I said. ``There's an
implication there I still answer to Her Dread Majesty.''

``You're claiming a territory as large as Praes as under your direct
command,'' Hakram pointed out. ``You'd be more an ally than a vassal.''

``She'll get tribute and soldiers,'' I said. ``She struck the same deal
with Daoine.''

``You're not this thick,'' the orc gravelled. ``Don't pretend.''

Callow wasn't Daoine, of course. Its fields fed the Wasteland and its
population was near the size of Praes'. There was a difference in the
balance of power -- Malicia could not allow me to just declare the de
facto independence for a territory this large. It would be a major loss
of face, influence and wealth for her. She would likely have to deal
with internal rebellions if she was somehow convinced of the notion.

``I'm done letting High Lords having a say here, Hakram,'' I said.

``\emph{Please},'' Murad screamed, but the legionaries forced his legs
together and drove a spike through the flesh and bone.

``Then find concessions to make,'' Adjutant replied. ``We'll have around
twice our number in legionaries on the field by the end of this.
Fighting them would not end well, and the Empress \emph{will} give the
order if you leave her no other choice.''

I conceded the point with a sullen grunt. Kilian hadn't been wrong on
one thing: I had tired of compromise. The last spike tore through Satang
Motherless' ankles and the legionaries wiped the blood off their armour
with calm professionalism before moving away. The two Wastelanders hung
from their crosses limply. Time for my part, then.

``The Ruling Council is officially dissolved,'' I spoke, weaving a
thread of power into my voice so it would carry for blocks. ``As of this
moment, I take command of Callow until martial law is lifted. A
Governor-General will be appointed shortly to oversee Laure.''

I paused to let that sink in.

``You may disperse,'' I finished.

I allowed my eyes to scan the crowd. This was, in essence, the pivot of
my presence in the capital. If a riot ensued everything was gonna go to
shit -- I'd need to leave behind a garrison and it was all down here
from there. The scene with the two usurpers had been as much to sate
them with blood as to offer a reminder: rebels died ugly deaths.
Silence, the kind you only got in a church, reigned supreme. Then the
first man knelt. From there it was like an avalanche. Within heartbeats,
there was not a man woman or child standing in Fairfax Place. I breathed
out slowly, then composed myself.

``Take me where Robber keeps them,'' I ordered Hakram, and we left
without a word.

---

Going back Dockside was oddly nostalgic. I'd earned coin for blood here,
back in the day. Would that the trades I made were still so innocent.
The warehouse belonged to the fishermen's guild, though they were more a
loose association than one of the true powers claiming that same name.
It smelled of salt and dry fish, the reason why becoming obvious when
the two of us entered: rows of bluegills and widemouth basses were
hanging from the ceiling. I vaguely knew the salting was done different
in other parts of Callow, but Laure was known for its particular take on
the process. Southpooleans insisted their way of doing it was better,
but they were just as wrong about that as they were about everything
else. That was the lightest thought I allowed myself before painting
blankness over my face. Weakness had no place here. There'd been
legionaries standing guard around the warehouse and what looked like at
least half Robber's cohort was spread inside.

Crossbows out, they kept an eye on the two dozen Callowans who'd been
dragged out of their beds last night and brought here without an
explanation any more elaborate than a kick in the back if they weren't
moving fast enough. None of them were tied, I saw, save for a single
pair. A man and woman who looked -- and smelled liked tanners -- but had
an entire tenth of goblins keeping an eye on them at all times. Robber
strutted up to me, a bit of blood on his lower lip, and massacred yet
another salute.

``I've got a treat for you, Boss,'' the Special Tribune announced.

``It better not be a corpse,'' I said.

It was always a godsdamned corpse with him. He was like the world's most
murderous cat, only it was worse because he was supposed to have a
conscience. Or whatever the goblin equivalent of that was.
\emph{Probably more knives.}

``I would never,'' the yellow-eyed wretch said, deeply offended. ``I'm a
tender, gentle soul. I'm just misunderstood.''

``I saw you eat a man's finger once,'' I said.

``Well, he was dead,'' Robber shrugged. ``Wasn't like \emph{he} was
going to be using it.''

He made sure to pitch his voice high enough to our guests would be able
to hear him. I used to wonder whether he did things like for
entertainment or for interrogation tactics before I'd realized there was
no real difference between the two for him.

``So what have you got for me,'' I asked.

Engaging him would only keep sending this conversation spiralling
further into madness and mind games.

``Smugglers' Guild,'' he said. ``All except my present. Those two
`tanners' with enough steel and poison on them to kill a small
village.''

I raised an eyebrow.

``How'd you find them?'' I asked.

``Ratface had them marked as potential members in his briefings,'' the
goblin said. ``We only had to kick the door and run in screaming to
check if they actually were.''

I resisted the urge to rub the bridge of my nose\emph{. Results,
Catherine}, I reminded myself. \emph{He still got results.}

``Anybody high ranked?'' I said.

``Top two Smugglers in the city,'' he said cheerfully. ``Was going to
torture that out of them, but they kept telling me. They seemed to think
it would make us release them.''

``Black tolerated their activities,'' I said. ``They're not used to
Legion attention.''

To my teacher it had been more valuable to keep an eye on what was being
brought into Callow illegally than to curtail their activities. Knowing
him, he'd probably considered their dodging fees and tariffs like a
payment of sorts.

``The were sloppy,'' Robber grinned viciously. ``If that's the best
criminals your people have to offer, it's no wonder you turned to Praes
to get things done.''

``We've a hole in the budget,'' I warned him. ``Don't think I won't sell
your hide in Mercantis for a few coppers.''

``Please,'' he cackled. ``I'm the official footrest of the queen of
Callow. I'm worth at least a couple silvers.''

I managed not to grimace at that, but it was a close thing. Not the
footrest thing, that was an old joke between us, but this `queen'
business. That was a warning from him, that the rank and file of the
Fifteenth expected for me to have a crown by the time we'd cleaned up
the mess. Balancing the next few months was going to be like walking a
tightrope. I allowed him to waddle away like he'd won. Little
`victories' like that usually kept him happy for a day or two, and when
he was in a good mood he got into much less trouble.

``The assassins are watching you,'' Hakram said quietly.

I knew better than to look.

``Let's talk to our guests, then,'' I grunted.

I gestured for the goblin cohort to get the prisoners moving, seating
them on a row of wooden crated. A few of them recognized me, apparently,
because the moment I got closer they spoke up.

``Lady Foundling,'' a man in his fifties called out. ``I must really
protest. This is entirely unnecessary! We could have met at our
offices-``

I glanced at the lieutenant standing behind him. She grinned, then
smashed the copper bottom of her crossbow into the back of his head.

``Let's make one thing perfectly clear,'' I said. ``This is not a
courtesy visit. If you want to walk out of this room alive, I would
discard the notion that you are in any way \emph{protected} by the deal
you made with Black.''

I turned cold eyes on the crowd, saw a few shiver.

``I am not him,'' I said. ``I have different expectations of you.''

Sharp laughter came from further down the line. It was a woman, in her
twenties with a missing eye. Looked like she'd been in a few scraps.

``Posturing,'' she said. ``You don't have the balls to go against the
Carrion Lord. We all know who you answer to.''

I studied her for a moment.

``\textbf{Choke on your tongue},'' I Spoke.

Her eye went wide. She tried to breathe but couldn't hand desperately
clawing at her throat. You could have heard a pin drop in the warehouse,
by the time she fell blue-faced to the ground.

``I trust,'' I said, ``that there will be no more of that.''

Several of the Smugglers had pissed themselves. I wrinkled my nose in
distaste. Robber was right, they'd gotten \emph{soft} under Imperial
protection.

``Callow is at war,'' I said. ``You have been called upon to serve.''

The man from earlier -- he must have been the local head -- nodded in
abject submission. His hands were shaking.

``Anything you need, Lady Foundling,'' he babbled.

``You'll be sending representatives to the Fifteenth,'' I said. ``They
are to put themselves at Supply Tribune Ratface's disposal and obey his
every order. And while you do that, gather rations for an army on the
march. You'll be keeping my army supplied through the Wasaliti on its
way south. I've no patience for parasites while the country is under
siege.''

That should allow Juniper to manoeuvre the way she needed to. Marchford
just didn't have the supplies for an extended campaign, and with both
the war in Wolof and General Istrid gathering legions near Vale there
would be no time to requisition what we needed. I turned to the two
assassins, who'd been watching all of this in silence. They were not
scared, I saw. They weren't from a breed as easily unnerved as the
smugglers.

``Neither of us has the authority to grant any demands you could make,''
the man among them said.

``Not even the head of our Guild in Laure would,'' the woman added, then
shrugged. ``Kill us, if you must. It makes no difference.''

``You can carry a message,'' I said. ``That will do.''

``And you think the Guildmaster will listen?'' the man said, cocking his
head to the side.

``We have watched your men try to find us,'' the woman told me. ``Prune
branches if you can. The tree will survive.''

I'd asked Ratface, a few months ago, to find me the Assassins. So I'd be
able to wipe them out in one go. The anger that had driven me back then
-- the righteous indignation at the concept of a band of killers being
allowed to run amok Callow without consequence -- was not as sharp at it
used to be. I had no spite left to spare for mortals, not when I was set
against forces who thought of ripping out my heart as a mere warning.

``I won't kill you,'' I replied softly. ``Oh no. I'll drag you back to
Marchford, and then I'll let Apprentice rip out the information I need
from your minds.''

The woman's body stiffened ever so slightly.

``You'll most likely survive that,'' I casually continued. ``Though not
unscathed. What's left of you, I will trade to the Winter Court for a
favour. They do enjoy their little games, the fae.''

I felt the room cool around me.

``I doubt \emph{you} will, though,'' I said. ``Winter tends to play
rough.''

``Striking at us would take men you need elsewhere,'' the woman said.

The male assassin's eyes flicked towards her, then he sighed.

``A message can be carried,'' he conceded.

``Tell your Guildmaster that he's on notice,'' I said coldly. ``His
actions over the next few months are what will determine whether I go
through your ranks with fire and sword and all the things that are
\emph{worse} I've refrained from using.''

The woman nodded slowly.

``And the terms?'' she asked.

``You take a contract in Callow, it goes by my desk,'' I said. ``There's
so much as a shoemaker that dies without my approval and I rip you out
root and stem. You don't need to worry about running out of work,
though.''

I smiled thinly.

``I have a list,'' I said. ``It will grow longer, before all is said and
done.''

The man considered this for a moment.

``And should the Guildmaster acceded to your request, will you handle
the matters directly?''

``I'll be the one handling you,'' Adjutant said from my side. ``Won't be
hard to find. There's not a lot of orcs with one of those.''

He brought up his bone hand, displaying the fingers. It made the
assassins visibly uncomfortable, hardened as they were. They were, after
all, still Callowan. Necromancy was the Enemy's tool, and one of its
most unpleasant ones.

``You're dismissed,'' I said, gesturing for the goblins to untie the
assassins.

It wasn't enough to worry about this war. I had to worry about the one
after that, and when the High Lords knocked at one gate and Procer snuck
through the other? There would be a need for ill-gained goods and dead
men. All it cost me to get them was a principle.

I was fast running out of those.
