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\epigraph{``Do not make laws you do not intend to enforce. Allowing one law
to be broken with impunity undermines them all.''}{Extract from the personal journals of Dread Emperor Terribilis II}



Evening Bell had just rung and the room was now lit with candles.

Most of the Southpool eldermen -- the ones involved in my little visit,
anyway -- had extended invitations for me to stay in their own homes,
but I had politely declined. Governess Ife would have those under watch,
for the first time in years. After the Conquest eldermen assemblies had
been made toothless by the near-absolute powers granted to Imperial
governors, an abrupt fall for men and women who had once been a power to
rival the guilds and the nobility. Their newfound irrelevance had
allowed them to survive the discreet purges that had gone through all
cities under direct Praesi occupation, which the governors were only now
learning had been a mistake. A mistake driven by culture, as it
happened. There was no equivalent to eldermen in the Wasteland, where
power inside the larger cities was always in the sole hands of the
ruling High Lord. Black had apparently been of the opinion that time
would smother the institution on its own without any need for blood:
Callowans born without having ever known the assemblies would not be
inclined to defer to them, particularly when their old powers were in
the hands of others.

He'd only been half-right. In Laure -- where the guilds and House
Fairfax had always been much stronger -- the assemblies were already
dead and buried before I was born. In Southpool, though, it was a
different story. The Counts of Southpool had long been weakened by their
proximity to the seat of a beloved monarchy, and the city was not strong
enough in trade for the guilds to have a major presence. Governess Ife,
now on her third mandate ruling the city, had found the opposition to
several of her toll stations and extraordinary taxes to be strong and
exceedingly well-organized. There had been riots, and at first she'd
backed down after manoeuvring so the manner of it would not make her
lose face. Then she'd quietly begun eliminating the most respected of
the eldermen, breaking the assembly's influence one corpse at a time.
Like most forms of Callowan resistance after the Conquest, the
enterprise had been doomed from the start. The eldermen of Southpool
were now a pale shadow of what they'd once been, unable to mount any
opposition worth the name.

But oh, they \emph{wanted} to.

When I'd had Ratface contact them through intermediaries, they'd
accepted my offer without even listening to all the terms. They were
lucky I wasn't out to screw them, because it would have been child's
play. I wasn't exactly a great admirer of eldermen assemblies -- the way
eldermen were appointed by the vote of other eldermen made them too much
like a knock-off nobility for my tastes -- but I needed a check on the
authority of governors and they were my most palatable option. It was
better than letting the guilds have the reins, anyway. Fairfax kings had
spent centuries locking the guilds out of direct political power, and in
my opinion they'd been right to. Whenever the guildmasters got a scrap
of authority they immediately used it to forced every commerce they
could under their thumb, which filled their coffers but also broke
smaller traders. Harrion, the owner of the tavern I'd once worked at,
had always held the guilds in disdain. He'd been one of the few people
in Laure I'd actually liked, so I supposed his opinion might have
coloured mine.

The tavern I was currently hiding out in reminded me of the Rat's Nest
quite a bit, actually. The wooden walls were just as rickety, the floor
creaked like a dying man and the smell of soured wine and vomit was so
ingrained it would remain even if the place was put to the torch. I'd
preferred dipping in the lake to using the only bathtub they had here,
judging I'd come out of that adventure rust-tinged. I hadn't drawn
attention in doing so: like in Laure, most everyone living by the lake
used it to bathe. Without armour and with only a knife for weaponry, I'd
been able to keep my presence quiet. Deoraithe, even half-bloods, were
rare outside of Daoine but in this part of the city people knew better
than to ask questions. The only reason I'd gotten a few looks was
currently entering my room, closing the door behind him. Hakram had put
on a cloak but there was no hiding his height or his fangs: Adjutant was
the tallest orc I'd ever met, with only Juniper coming close.

``I have it,'' Hakram said, taking out a thick leather-bound book from
under his cloak and dropping it on the table.

I put aside \emph{The Death of the Age of Wonders}, the treatise I was
now reading for the second time. Written by Dread Empress Malicia, I'd
thought I could glimpse something of how her mind worked through her
words. All I'd gotten, though, was that she was a firm believe in checks
and balances when it came to the nations of Calernia. That a woman who'd
claimed the Tower could believe foreign alliances should be determined
by shared interests instead of alignment to Good and Evil was a
fascinating departure from the norm, but it taught me little about
Malicia as a woman. Dismissing the thought, I cast my eyes on the book
Hakram had brought and flipped it open. Columns of numbers and words,
scribbled so poorly even my own handwriting was legible in comparison.

``Won't that make for pleasant reading,'' I sighed.

``I already took a look, it's why I'm late,'' the orc said. ``Here, let
me.''

He moved the pages with a carefulness that was almost comical, given the
size and thickness of his fingers. About halfway through he ceased, and
laid a finger on a particular number. Three thousand golden aurelii,
spent on\ldots{}

``Furniture repairs,'' I snorted. ``Maybe she \emph{does} have a sense
of humour.''

``I've found the carpenters that supposedly did the work,'' Hakram said.
``Elderwoman Keyes knew them. I have sworn statements they did no such
thing.''

``And we have the ledger from the Guild of Assassins, accounting for the
three thousand aurelii,'' I said quietly. ``That should be enough.''

Barely a fortnight after claiming my fiefdom in Marchford I'd tasked
Ratface to get in touch with all the so-called Dark Guilds of Callow,
the criminal mirror to the merchant organization. I really shouldn't
have been surprised he was already on speaking terms with all the major
ones. The Assassins had been reluctant at the idea of letting me claim a
ledger, even if it was to be used against a Praesi. Black had tacitly
sanctioned the existence of all the Dark Guilds after the Conquest,
preferring limiting them to quotas rather than attempting an eradication
that would drive them into the arms of heroes. The Assassins had
quibbled until I'd offered them a calm reminder that Tribune Robber
could be pulled from his current assignment at any time. The malevolent
little shit was starting to have a reputation and I wasn't above using
it for my purposes. Still had cost me a small fortune to buy the ledger
off of them, which mattered a lot more now than it would have a year
ago. Marchford was haemorrhaging coin with no solution in sight, but
that was a problem I'd return to chewing on tomorrow. Tonight I had a
governess to deal with.

``She didn't have time to cook the books?'' I said. ``Better than this,
I mean.''

``She let Heiress' people take care of the official ones,'' Hakram said,
amused. ``But she didn't trust Akua with her personal records.''

Ah, Praesi backstabbing. The gift that kept on giving.

``You worked quickly,'' I praised.

He shrugged.

``I knew what we needed, I just had to \textbf{Find} it,'' he said.

I hummed. Adjutant's second aspect, one I still wasn't sure what to
think about. There was no denying how useful it had turned out to be --
Hakram now frequently stumbled onto exactly what we were looking for, as
long as it was feasible for him to do so -- but relying too much on
aspects was a good way to earn a one-way trip to the graveyard. I'd
encouraged him to use it sparingly, but the both of us were drowning in
responsibilities these days: there was a reason he'd come into the
aspect in the first place. I changed the subject to more current
concerns.

``The Gallowborne are in the city?'' I asked.

``As of an hour ago,'' Adjutant said. ``They'll be noticed soon, if they
haven't been already.''

``I don't mind if word spreads,'' I grunted. ``It'll discourage Ife's
household troops from getting any ideas.''

The eldermen had assured me that the city guard would stay out of it,
but Ife's own men were from the Wasteland. The governess was from a
family sworn to the High Lords of Nok, with minor but very old holdings
-- held since since before the Miezans kind of old. That tended to breed
unusually strong loyalties in Praesi.

``One last thing,'' Hakram said. ``Heiress' envoys, they're led by an
old friend of ours.''

I raised an eyebrow.

``Can't be Hawulti, she hasn't set foot in Callow since our pleasant
chat in Liesse,'' I said.

As the heiress to Nok, the Soninke would have been the natural choice
for an envoy here.

``Fasili,'' the orc said. ``Slow learner, that one.''

The heir to Aksum. Apparently his aunt bluntly stating he was expendable
in a scryed conversation with me had driven him even deeper into
Heiress' camp. Unfortunate, that. Aksum sat on half a dozen emerald
mines, the largest in Calernia, and it had grown rich off of them.
Fucking Praesi, rolling in gold and gems when Marchford wasn't even
breaking even.

``Let's gift him a reminder, then,'' I said. ``Come along, Adjutant.
Let's have a talk with Governess Ife.''

---

The ranks of the Gallowborne had swelled in the six months that had
passed since the end of the Liesse Rebellion. They were not a single
company any longer: they numbered four hundred at the moment, the
members still handpicked by the former Captain Farrier -- now a full
Tribune. Still, after a conversation with Juniper I'd forced his hand
when it came to selection: there were Praesi now, if only a few, and
orcs. Keeping anybody but my countrymen out of the ranks of my personal
guard would have sent the wrong message, on that much I agreed with the
Hellhound. About seven out of ten were still Callowan, though, and some
of those recruits were fresh off the battlefields of the rebellion.

Not all of them had fought on the Empire's side.

The first time I'd gotten a report that a former member of the Countess
Marchford's retinue had tried to enrol in the Fifteenth, I'd poured
myself a stiff drink. My initial thought that this would be an isolated
occurrence was quickly proven wrong, as hardened soldiers who'd been
ready to run out the Empire not a year ago kept on flocking to my
banner. Juniper had been of the opinion that they should taken in and
then dispersed across the legions that garrisoned Callow, never allowed
to gather enough they would be an issue if they rebelled again. Aisha
had been more nuanced, suggesting that folding some into the Gallowborne
first as a sign of goodwill would gain me approval with the people of
Marchford. It was Ratface who'd been the dissenting voice. \emph{Take
them all in,} he'd said. \emph{Otherwise you've a city full of veterans
with no one to fight for. Yet.} He'd been right. The others hadn't liked
it but I'd put my foot down. The Fifteenth filled its rank to the brim
before the first month had passed, which was when the first problem had
come. We had our four thousand men and still recruits kept showing up.

Word had spread outside of Marchford, and the retinues of half the lords
and ladies who'd fought in the rebellion had come to my city. I could
not scry Black to ask him for advice, as he was in the Free Cities at
the moment and scrying spells tended to break up over the mountains, but
to all our surprise it was Nauk who found a solution. Or rather, failed
to see where the problem was. \emph{Why do we give a shit if we're over
four thousand?} he'd said. \emph{Our charter's incomplete.} Every
legion, when founded, was granted a charter by the Empress -- truthfully
the Black Knight, but he did so in her name. It granted the soldiers
right to pay, specified right of recruitment and formalized the right to
be equipped by the Imperial forges at Foramen. It also specified the
\emph{size} of the legion. The Fifteenth though, unlike any other legion
in living memory, had been raised as a half-legion of two thousand
legionaries. That part of the charter had been left unspecified as a
consequence, which Nauk took to mean there was no hard limit on our
numbers.

A reminder that Black always, \emph{always} played the long game.

The Fifteenth Legion now consisted of a little over six thousand men and
was still growing. Juniper had hastily brought in recruits from Praes to
balance the composition of the legion, but now over half was made up of
Callowans. My general regularly made pointed comments about their
conflicting loyalties,and she was right to. I'd realized too late that
those men and women had not stopped fighting for their rebellion: they
simply thought they'd joined the banner of a quieter, more successful
one. In Praes, these days, I was seen as a symbol of the permanence of
the Tower's rule over the former Kingdom. In Callow, though?
\emph{Countess}, they called me, but I knew that some of them really
meant \emph{Queen}. This was trouble, in the same sense that fire was
warm or Heiress was a megalomaniac. Regardless, if there was currently
an advantage to having recruits pouring in from all over Callow it was
that some of my Gallowborne were familiar with Southpool. They knew
their way around the palace.

``We'll have control of the grounds before you get to the hall,''
Tribune Farrier said quietly from my side.

The two of us were peering at the silhouette of the former residence of
the Counts of Southpool. My personal guard has moved swiftly and
professionally to secure the palace, after a relative of the eldermen
had unlocked a servant entrance. The Gallowborne would be outnumbered,
but it was unlikely it would actually come to a fight tonight. Their
presence was largely meant as a deterrent for when desperation struck.
\emph{And even if it comes to that, they've fought harder things than
men.} After Marchford and Liesse, there was precious little that would
make the Gallowborne flinch.

``Try to avoid incidents,'' I said. ``I'd like this to go as cleanly as
possible.''

Or I'd have to answer to the Ruling Council for the mess. While I did
own a winning coalition of the votes there, I was not beyond
questioning. Baroness Kendal -- Anne, as she insisted I call her now --
had not lost her principles with her surrender and Sister Abigail
abhorred violence of any sort. The two Praesi members had been
uncomfortable at the idea of what was going to unfold here tonight,
though both were owned by High Lords opposed to the man who owned the
governess. That had been enough to make it a unanimous vote, without the
appearance of Malicia's representative. The Dread Empress had sent a
messenger to cast her vote anyway, without saying how she'd known what
the motion put to the council would be.

``My officers are steady,'' Tribune Farrier said calmly. ``There'll be
no fuckups, Countess.''

``I've come to expect as much, John,'' I said, clapping his shoulder.

He blushed. He always did, when I called him by his given name. A part
of me was still girlishly delighted I could have that effect on people.

``Forgive me,'' he said, ``but I still believe you should take a full
line.''

``There's no one in that hall for me to be afraid of,'' I said amusedly.
``A tenth is more than enough. Besides, Hakram will be there.''

``With all due respect, ma'am,'' he said, ``Lord Adjutant is a target
too. It's been a month since they tried to knife him, we're overdue
another attempt.''

If you'd told me two years ago that assassination attempts on my closest
friend in the world would become a somewhat tiresome routine, I would
have been fairly sceptical. And yet, here I was, wondering how far the
next hired killer would make it before someone but a crossbow bolt in
them. The last one hadn't even made it past Apprentice's wards before
getting put down. Robber had managed to get a betting pool running
without having been in Marchford for months, I assumed through the
magical power of being a vicious little bastard. Hopefully the next one
would make it past the second line of defence, I had twenty denarii
riding on it.

``A tenth will be enough,'' I repeated dryly. ``Hakram, how are we
looking?''

A green cabinet with a cloak slapped on top it, also known as Adjutant,
stirred in the distance.

``Like we could use a bath from a place where fish don't swim,'' he
said.

``That's insubordination, it is,'' I complained.

``I'll get away with it,'' he shrugged. ``My commanding officer's a soft
touch.''

``I'm surrounded by insolence, John,'' I solemnly told the tribune.
``What did I ever do to deserve this?''

``I'm told you flipped off an angel,'' he replied frankly. ``That'd
probably do it.''

``That's\ldots{}'' I started. ``Well, kind of true I guess. Still.''

I strode away, my escorting tenth falling behind me seamlessly as Hakram
came to my side. The tall orc had put on his legionary armour before we
set out, making the cloak even more useless a disguise than before. I'd
not bothered with plate myself, keeping to a simple cloth tunic dyed in
pale blue. The cloak, though, was the one I was becoming known for. The
same one Black had given me years ago, now adorned with strips from the
standards of the enemies I'd beaten. It swirled dramatically behind me
as I kept a quick pace towards the banquet hall of old fortress of the
counts of Southpool. I had a sword at my hip, now, as well as the knife
I'd taken my first life with. Overconfidence had killed more powerful
villains than me. The Gallowborne had cleared the corridors of everyone
when they'd seized the palace, so we moved without contest. The hall I
was looking for was easy enough to find, as it had once served as the
room where audiences were held: it was dead at the centre of the
structure. The doors to it were already open, though I whimsically
wished they hadn't been. This reminded me of another night, in Laure,
when I had been on the precipice of the changes that would lead me where
I now stood. A lifetime ago, it felt like.

By the sound of it, the guests had yet to notice anything was going on.
I made a note to compliment Tribune Farrier on the efficiency of his
men. I strolled into the room casually, casting a steady look around.
Twenty people in attendance, with Governess Ife at the head of the
table. Servants stood to the side in silence, in the Praesi way. Most of
the guests were Callowan, though I recognized Fasili as the governess'
right side. A Taghreb sat by him, a young woman I did not know. Hard
eyes and a scar on her face hinted at a retainer, and one not unfamiliar
with violence. Three of the eldermen I'd struck my deal with were in
attendance, clustered near the end of the table. Like servants. They
were the first to notice our presence, as Hakram pulled down the hood of
his cloak and the Gallowborne fanned out behind me. For another few
heartbeats the conversation continued, then awareness spread and the
hall turned silent as a grave.

``Get out,'' I said. ``Now.''

When Black had stood in my place, he'd used his Name to spread fear in
the crowd. I didn't bother, though I'd finally managed to learn the
trick to it. The Callowans rose in barely-veiled panic, streaming by the
blank-faced silhouetted of the Gallowborne as they fled. Fasili and his
retainer only rose after he finished his cup of wine.

``Governess,'' the heir to Aksum said, slightly bowing his head.
``Always a pleasure.''

``The pleasure is all mine,'' Ife replied with a gracious smile. ``Until
next time, Lord Fasili.''

The Soninke moved unhurriedly, pausing before me.

``Lady Squire,'' he said icily.

The Taghreb retainer cast a wary eye on me, hand falling to the sword at
her hip.

``Fasili,'' I said. ``Do be careful on the way back. I'm told Liesse has
a banditry problem.''

``A temporary state of affairs,'' he said.

``More than you know,'' I smiled pleasantly.

I turned back to the governess, eyeing her curiously. A middle-aged
Soninke, her frame still hinting at the slenderness of her youth but now
grown thicker. Her eyes were not quite golden but very close. A sign of
old blood, Aisha had told me.

``Lady Squire,'' she greeted me. ``You honour me with your presence.''

``Governess Ife,'' I said, grabbing a seat and dragging it at the end of
the table facing hers.

The sound of wood scraping on stone almost made her wince. I plopped
myself down, then fished out the dragonbone pipe Masego had gifted me.
Calmly, under her befuddled gaze, I stuffed it with wakeleaf from a
small packet I got from a pocket sown into my cloak. I produced a
pinewood match and struck it on the table, lighting the pipe. I inhaled
a mouthful of grey smoke and spat it out, carelessly tossing the match
into an abandoned cup of wine. There was a long moment of silence,
broken only by Hakram failing to entirely smother a chuckle.

``Should I arrange for the servants to bring you a meal?'' the Soninke
finally said. ``I have some of the finest cooks of the provinces in my
employ.''

I inhaled the smoke, then let out a stream of it. The wakeleaf had
become a guilty pleasure of mine, in the last few months. Aisha usually
sprinkled a handful of leaves in her tea, as they sharpened wit, but
Apprentice had informed me they could be smoked as well. They were,
unfortunately, quite expensive. Grown only in Ashur, having been brought
from the other side of the Tyrian Sea when the Baalites first founded
the cities that would become the Thalassocracy. I used them sparingly as
a consequence.

``The night I first became the Squire,'' I said, ``I stood in a hall
much like this one.''

There was another long silence.

``The story is well known, in some circles,'' she said, face without
expression.

``Mazus wanted to be Chancellor,'' I mused. ``Ambitious, though back
then I did not understand exactly how ambitious he truly was. I do not
think you suffer from the same flaw, Governess Ife.''

``I do not understand your meaning, Lady Squire,'' she said, eyes wary.

``Greed, you see, I can tolerate,'' I said. ``There's probably been
rulers that didn't skim off the top, but I imagine they were in the
minority. It's an old sin, that one. As long as it doesn't get out of
hand, I can live with it.''

``An enlightened attitude,'' the governess murmured. ``If your visit is
meant to be a\ldots{} reminder of the virtues of moderation, your
warning has been received.''

Hakram calmly placed the ledger on the table, pushing aside a plate
filled with pheasant. I would give this to Governess Ife, the fear only
showed in her eyes -- and even then, only for a moment. I spewed out
another mouthful of smoke, letting the haze wreathe my face like a grey
crown.

``A thousand aurelii a head,'' I said. ``A point in your favour, that
you bought Callowan instead of importing specialists from the Wasteland.
Even if what you bought is murder.''

``I've no idea what you are referring to, my lady,'' she said.

``We have the matching ledger from the Guild of Assassins,'' I replied.

Ife closed her eyes.

``My term is at an end, then,'' she said calmly. ``I will be gone by the
end of the fortnight. Will the replacement you have chosen require
quarters before that?''

``So you \emph{don't} have a mage in Laure,'' I said, cocking my head to
the side. ``Not one that can scry, anyway.''

I inhaled from the pipe, letting the wakeleaf quicken my blood. I'd
thought, that same night in Laure, that when the time came I would enjoy
this. That it would feel like justice\emph{. It feels like killing}, I
thought as I blew the smoke. \emph{And less cleanly than if I'd used a
sword.}

``As of last night, the Ruling Council has determined that acts
committed as an Imperial governor fall under the jurisdiction of
Callowan authorities,'' I said.

She was a clever woman, the governess. She did not need for me to
explain it any further.

``It would be a mercy,'' she said, ``to allow me poison.''

``It would be,'' I agreed quietly. ``But this is Callow, Governess. We
hang murderers here.''

The Gallowborne moved forward.

``String her up,'' I ordered.

She did not struggle as my soldiers took her away. I closed my eyes and
leaned back in the seat. Eventually my pipe ran out and I emptied the
ashes on a cooling plate.

``It was necessary,'' Hakram said.

He was standing behind me, close enough to touch. He didn't though. He
knew me better than that, had seen me in this kind of mood before.

``When's the last time we did the right thing, instead of the necessary
one?'' I asked tiredly.

``You think this wrong?'' he said. ``She commissioned murders, even if
she did not wield the blade herself. By our laws, she has earned
death.''

``I don't think it was personal for her,'' I said, eyes drifting to the
ceiling. ``She was just consolidating power. Like I'm doing right now,
Hakram. If she deserves to hang, don't I?''

``She was breaking the law,'' the orc gravelled. ``You are enforcing
it.''

``The only reason I don't break laws anymore is because I \emph{make}
them, now,'' I scoffed.

Adjutant laughed softly.

``And that disturbs you?'' he asked. ``You have toiled to earn that
prize since before we ever met.''

``There's nothing right about this,'' I finally said. ``I didn't win
tonight because I'm better than her. I'm just more powerful. I have a
bigger stick, so I decide how it goes.''

``\emph{Humans},'' Hakram mocked gently. ``You speak that as if it were
a tragedy, instead of the first truth of Creation: the strong rule, the
weak obey.''

``I thought,'' I said quietly, ``that we could be better than that.''

``Justifications only matter to the just,'' he gravelled.

I half-smiled. My own words, thrown back at me. And yet\ldots{}

``I burned men alive, at Three Hills,'' I said. ``Hundreds of them.''

``Your enemies,'' he said. ``Soldiers.''

I let out a long breath.

``I have done, Hakram, terrible things,'' I said. ``Ugly things. I'll do
more, before this is over. If it is ever over.''

Once, when we'd talked under moonlight, the orc had compared trying to
change the world to pushing a boulder up a mountain. And then watching
it roll down the other slope\emph{. It doesn't work that way, though}, I
thought. \emph{There is no summit to the mountain. You just keep pushing
until your body gives, and you're the first thing the stone crushes on
the way down.} If that was all it could be, though, if all you could
ever do was buy some time\ldots{}

``I made those decisions for a purpose,'' I said. ``I did not cover this
land with corpses just to change the flavour of tyranny that rules it.
If I don't make it better now, when will I?''

I clenched my fingers, then unclenched them.

``We hang murderers, in Callow. Even the ones Black struck deals with.''

I slid back the pipe into my cloak.

``Get a message to Ratface,'' I said. ``He is to prepare for the
dismantling of the Guild of Assassins.''