Tears For The Dragon Ch. 02

"The Goddess bless this place," said the High Matron. Her voice, however, indicated that the last thing she wanted to do was bless anything here.

Metternich put on a large smile, placed his palms together, and bowed. "You honor me by visiting my humble office, Most High Matron. My thanks for the blessing of the Goddess."

"Just cut the crap, Erik," snapped the Matron.

He straightened up. "Ah. So it's to be one of those meetings, Hanna?"

"Yes."

"Well then, at least have a seat." He indicated a pair of plush chairs set off to one side of his office. The Matron swept over and seated herself primly in one while Metternich took the other.

"And here I was hoping this was a social call," he said as he seated himself.

The Matron snorted. "You knew it wasn't. I need to know what the King is playing at."

"The King has a great many projects underway. Perhaps you could tell me which you refer to?"

She leaned forward and fixed Metternich with her gaze. "My sisters and I are having to deal with a particular pair of parents. They have a daughter named Timea who is a servant in the palace. Or perhaps I should say 'was', as the girl went missing about a week ago. Her parents are inconsolable. They want to know what happened to her."

Metternich shrugged. "I can sympathize with that desire. But the palace is a very large place. A great many people work here. Why do you think the King has anything to do with this?"

"Because I have heard rumors of the king waylaying servant girls. He apparently has a thing for virgins. And don't give me that 'preparing the bedchamber' nonsense, Erik. I have heard stories. Stories from people whose consciences are becoming...troubled due to the King's predilections."

"Who has been talking to you?" asked Metternich. His voice was no longer pleasant.

The Matron leaned back. "Those who fear for their soul. That is all I shall say."

Metternich steepled his fingers together as he thought. It must be someone in the kitchen, they were notorious gossips and had sources everywhere. He would have to plant different bits of false information in various ears and see what turned up in front of the Matron...

His plotting was interrupted by the High Matron's next words. "I was willing to turn a blind eye to Bognar's behavior when all it did was result in some tears and a bruise or two. However, if he is becoming more violent then I cannot ignore it any further. I will ask you directly. Did King Bognar kill Timea?"

Metternich felt irritation that this nonsense was taking time away from his real work. "Why are you making all of this fuss about a servant?"

"Because her parents are speaking more loudly all the time. And not just to the Church."

"That is not their place," growled Metternich. "I will put a stop to such behavior."

The High Matron stood. "You will not! This is not a situation to resolve through intimidation. For someone who deals in information, you seem remarkably unaware of how precarious the situation is in the capital."

"People mutter all the time," replied Metternich. "But make a good example and the muttering dies down." Her face remained stormy, so he gentled his voice. "I'm not saying I'll send someone over to crack their heads open. I will simply offer my assistance in their search for this silly girl. Does that satisfy you?"

The Matron shook her head. "You still have not answered my question. Did Bognar kill that girl?"

"Why ask me? In the highly unlikely event that our illustrious leader has tried his hand at straight-up murder, I am sure that he is clever enough to conceal such a fact from us."

"That is nonsense. If a mouse so much as farts in this palace you know about it."

"Then take my assurance that King Bognar has not killed anyone. And before you ask, no. I have no idea where the girl is or what became of her." He stood as well. "In spite of what you think, even I cannot keep track of everything that happens within these walls."

The High Matron nodded. "I see. Then convey a message to the King, if you please."

Metternich smiled and made a casual waving motion with his good arm. "Now, Hanna, why use such an imperfect tool as myself? I am sure that you can get an audience with him any time you wish."

"He will listen to you more than to me." The Matron took a breath. "When I backed the King's claim to the throne..."

"You mean, when the Goddess bestowed her blessing on the King's right to rule," said Metternich with what he hoped was a disarming grin.

The Matron didn't smile back. "Interrupt me again, and I'll have you excommunicated. I backed Bognar to avoid further bloodshed and general civil war. He was a strong man, and I foolishly thought that strength of arm extended to strength of character. But he has wasted the years since then. He needs to get a wife, a properly noble wife. And he must sire a proper heir to the throne. That needs to be his priority, not military adventures in Estressau or diddling every virginal wench in the palace."

Metternich gave no outward hint of his sudden anger. This cow had dived into the political swamp due to her backing of King Bognar, and now she had the damn nerve to complain about being surrounded by crocodiles. Aloud he said, "Now, as I recall the Church also received assurances from the King that Church property and lands would not be touched after he was crowned. The King has kept his promise, yes?"

The Matron reluctantly nodded.

Metternich gave a wide smile as he pictured having the Matron over for dinner - and slipping some of that new-found poison into her drink. It was a very pleasant fantasy. "Then please don't worry, and leave the running of the earthly kingdom to him. Fear not, I shall let him know of your...concerns. In a more diplomatic manner, of course."

She sighed. "If you would, please. I will try to keep Timea's parents in check as best I can."

"Excellent. Do stop by any time, honored Matron. It is always good to have you here." He moved to the door in a manner that indicated that her audience with him was definitely at an end.

As she walked out the door, The High Matron gave him a deadpan look. "I hope you take this situation seriously, Erik. History has shown that small events can blow up into larger issues without warning."

"Keeping issues small is my job, Hannah." The smile slipped off of his face as the door closed. His mind began churning as he stepped behind his desk and continued writing his instructions. The instructions were straightforward and did not occupy much of his mind. The greater part of his intellect focused on what to do with Timea's body.

He had initially thought that her disappearance would pass without much comment. But it sounded like her parents might be turning her name into a rallying cry. Metternich was glad that he had listened to his instincts and kept her body instead of burning it. A pure 'vanishing' would have given him nothing to work with. But if there was real anger growing in the streets...that anger could be used as a weapon. He would just have to determine where best to point it.

And he knew that any pointing would have to be done sooner rather than later. He had put a preservation spell on the corpse, but even with that in place Timea's body wouldn't remain identifiable forever.

__________________________________________________________

"With you three arriving, that makes the team complete," said Tibor. The cheerful-looking young man had been the first person the three of them had seen as they'd entered Emsari's lair. The cavernous space was filled with odd-looking sconces and braziers that cast a gentle golden glow. The light somehow made Celia feel at ease. It was an unusual feeling for her; usually she was on edge no matter what the situation. It was a nervousness that had saved her life on more than one occasion.

Tibor had just finished handing out glasses filled with brandy. Celia took a sip and smiled. It was really good brandy....probably older than her, actually.

The burglar now stood in a huge room that was the dragon's bedchamber. To her left was a huge circular basin that was lined with cushions and set into the stone floor. That was probably the beast's bed. And then, off to Celia's right...

Well, to her right was a huge golden pile that held more wealth than Celia thought existed in the world. She couldn't help but try to total up how much was there in coins, in jewels, and in miscellaneous gilt items. Her sum kept going higher each time. It was a strictly mental exercise, of course. She was a thief, not a bloody idiot.

The dragon herself had been nothing but pleasant after their 'audition' outside, and for her part Celia had tried to avoid gaping at Emsari too much. What with her own scars, the burglar knew what it was like to be subject to impolite staring. Apart from herself, Gard, and Miklos, there was a cheerful redheaded gnome named Petra who'd apparently arrived a little earlier. Gard was busy chatting with the gnome about some sort of alchemical matter, and Miklos was in the process of ignoring them all and examining one of the tapestries that lined the walls. The man appeared to be almost ecstatic at what he was seeing; Celia occasionally heard a exclamation of "Hah!" or "Magnificent!" from the little human's direction. Miklos was so entranced that he'd barely noticed when Tibor handed him his glass.

Celia was sneaking more glances at Gard than at any of the others. The battle-mage was dressed in an outfit of simple and light-colored linen. She wondered where he'd found clothes that could fit his huge, muscle-bound frame. The burglar found muscles appealing, and Gard had those in spades. Celia found herself staring at one of his bulging biceps as he raised his glass and had a sip of brandy. Her eyes drifted up to his flat nose and slightly protruding tusks. Those features should have made him look bestial to her, but when combined with his courtly manner it somehow made him even more appealing. Then she shook herself mentally and told herself to get a grip. It had been way too long since she'd gotten laid.

Tibor finished handing out the drinks and then came back around to stand next to Emsari. He smiled at them all with evident relief. His head just came up to the dragon's eye level, even though she was lying on her stomach with her arms folded.

"My thanks again for coming, everyone," Tibor said. He turned to Emsari. "Shall I begin?"

She gave him an indulgent smile, and the whip-like tip of her tail caressed his shoulder. "Go ahead, dear."

Celia suppressed a little surprised cough at the use of 'dear'. She saw one of Gard's eyebrows rise as well.

Tibor stepped into the center of them and saluted each of them with his glass. "First, some introductions are in order. I am Tibor Sarkany, mage-in-training and formerly of the University of Vasalat. Before we go any further, I should also mention there is a significant bounty on my head. Just by talking to me, you are all putting yourselves in danger."

"How big a bounty are we talking?" asked Celia with a little grin on her face.

"Five hundred crowns."

She gave a snort. "Oh, pish. You're a bloody amateur, mate. I 'ad five hundred on me head before I was twelve."

Tibor laughed in response. "I'm sure you did. This is Celia Darrington, everyone. Not her actual name, of course. She's one of the most notorious burglars in several kingdoms. As far as I can tell, you have at least three different bounties on you, each under a different name."

"I might. I might not," replied Celia. She actually had five active aliases at the moment, but she wasn't telling them that.

Petra stumped forward. "I'm Petra Veradi. No alias or anything there." She pointed a finger up at Tibor. "I've known this cheeky beanpole for way too long. If you want something analyzed or taken care of, I'm the one to ask. And by 'taken care of', I mean blown into tiny bits." She waggled her eyebrows at the last.

Gard opened his mouth to speak. But before he could say anything, Miklos finally decided to tear himself away from the 'fascinating' tapestries and rejoin them. "Alchemist, eh?" Miklos said with his usual enthusiasm. "Wonderful! You must be from Vasalat, yes-yes? Large gnome population there." He peered at Tibor. "Ah!. And young Sarkany. Known to be romantically involved with Natalia Kozma, who was put to death for possession of seditious material. Officially wanted for sedition, but also for attacking and wounding King's Counselor Erik Metternich."

Celia felt a little cold lump form in her gut. "Bloody hell. You've got the King's Right Hand after you?"

"Yep." Tibor looked as somber as she felt.

Petra gave Miklos a narrow look. "And who the hell is this doofus?"

Tibor sketched a little bow towards the pot-bellied man. "Everyone, may I introduce His Excellency, Duke Miklos Katona. Heir to the Katona lineage, which makes him one of the members of the Council of Lords."

Miklos smiled at the astounded faces around him. "Not entirely accurate, eh what? Council of Lords technically no longer exists. Currently employed as an...art historian. Yes-yes, close enough description."

Gard then spoke in that pleasantly deep voice of his. "I'm Gard Hansen," he said. "Battle-mage and ward expert."

Celia couldn't resist teasing him. Gard seemed nice, but he was also much too serious. "Nothing else, eh?" she asked. "You're not secretly a prince or somethin' like that?"

"No." Gard's tone indicated the subject was closed.

"Easy, mate. All in good fun, right?" She turned to Tibor. "So what's this job that will save a kingdom, then?"

Tibor still looked somber, but there was a happy glint in his eye. "What I am proposing is nothing less than the destruction of King Bognar's reign. Cheers." He lifted his glass and took a sip.

Almost automatically, Celia returned the toast and sipped while her mind whirled.

Gard spoke aloud the same question in her mind. "How do only five of us...well, five people and one dragon...accomplish that?"

Tibor cleared his throat. "A fair question. The main problem is that there is a whole mess of soldiers and nobility and clergy all acting in concert to prop up Bognar. The continuing crackdowns on publishing and speech have only acted to drive the common discontent out of sight. But it's still there. The question is, how do we bring it back out into the open and make it actually stick?"

"Yeah, that is something I'd like to know," said Celia. "And I'd also like to know why you need an infiltrator like me for a rebellion. You really need a whole bunch of chaps like him." She nodded towards Gard and gave the ogre a smile. Celia felt a little zing as the big guy gave a lopsided smile towards her in return. Her happiness irritated her a little. Damn it, she was too old to be having crushes.

"We need you because this is not a rebellion," replied Tibor. "This is a heist."

"We're stealing a kingdom?" Celia tapped her chin. "Well, can't say I ever stole one a' them before."

"The actual target is not the kingdom," replied Tibor. "It's the Rod of Ages. The High Matron of the Temple in Vasalat allowed Bognar to wield it after he'd unified the various duchies into the present kingdom."

"And by 'unify' you mean 'subjugate', right?" asked Petra with a grin.

Tibor nodded. "Remember, everyone was sick of the fighting by then. The High Matron probably figured it was better to endorse the strongest duke. So Bognar now 'owns' the Rod of Ages, and every Unification Day he goes out on the balcony and holds it up. It sends out a beacon of light into the heavens, which shows everyone that his reign still has the blessing of the Goddess. All is right with the world, and all that crap."

"That's nonsense, though," said Emsari. "The Rod is an artifact from before the First Empire. Not even my kind has any idea what that beacon really means."

Tibor gave a chuckle. "Facts don't matter, I'm afraid. The people believe that the Rod's light indicates the Goddess's approval, so that's what it means." The mage clasped his hands behind his back. Celia thought that Tibor looked a little like Miklos had when the Duke had been facing down a dragon. "Now, I want you to imagine this. Three months from now, during the next Unification Day, King Bognar strides out onto his balcony, greets his, heh, 'adoring' subjects, raises the Rod of Ages...and nothing happens. There's no glowing beacon. There's nothing. The people have incontrovertible evidence that the Goddess has withdrawn her support."

Miklos perked up at that last part. "Oh! Now understand own part in scheme. You wish to make a copy of the Rod."

Tibor nodded. "You've got it. In broad strokes, the plan is to break into the Temple in Vasalat, steal the Rod of Ages, make a non-functioning copy, put the copy back...and then stand back and watch Bognar get burned. Hopefully literally."

Gard looked uneasy at the idea. "Okay, but then what happens? The King doesn't have an heir yet. If Bognar is suddenly seen as illegitimate, the dukes will start fighting each other again over the throne." He waved a hand at Miklos. "His family would, for sure."

Miklos rubbed his neck in embarrassment. "Katona family would not get involved in fighting. Family has fallen on hard times in last decade or so, yes-yes."

"There won't be any fighting if we have a successor lined up and ready to go," replied Tibor. "And one part of the plan is to get the Head Matron of the Vasalat Temple to endorse our choice when the time comes."

"Who's this mystery king-to-be?" asked Celia. Then her eyes widened, and she discreetly pointed a finger at Miklos with a questioning look towards Tibor. The little pot-bellied man didn't notice her gesture.

Tibor shook his head slightly at the implied question. "The one I have in mind is Duke Alexander Magyar."

"Ah! Dear old Alexi," said Miklos. "A good man."

The young man laughed. "He is a good man, but he's not old. I was actually in classes with him at university, and he's exactly what we need. He's smart, he's idealistic...and he really, really believes that the old Council of Lords should be reinstated as a check on the king's power."

Gard's uneasy expression softened. "Ah. So that's how you'll get the other dukes on board with our choice. They'll get some of their political power back." He tapped one thick finger absently against a tusk as he thought. "Yes, if the dukes and the Matron agree, then that should work. And the people will be fine with it...after all, they mostly hate Bognar by now."

Celia cleared her throat. "I guess I'll be the first to ask about tedious and grubby details like...are we getting paid for this? I'm all for giving that sod Bognar a big ol' kick in the bollocks, but clandestine civic service doesn't put food in my belly."

"I will be handling your payment," replied Emsari.

Celia resisted the urge to turn and stare once more at the huge pile of wealth behind her. "Um, I thought you lot didn't part with any of your hoard."

The dragon winked at Celia. "Oh, the money isn't coming from there. I do have some minor, more liquid sources of wealth for when I need to purchase things." She looked a little worried, or as worried as a bloody great lizard could look. "You all should know that this is serious business for me as well. My people are forbidden from becoming involved in mortal politics. That covers the obvious...such as me smashing my way into Vasalat and tearing Bognar's head off." Her thin scaly lips peeled back to reveal her fangs. "But it also covers less obvious interventions such as funding rebellions."

"We're not rebels," said Celia. "Or at least I ain't one, mate. There's no money in revolution."

"True," replied Emsari. "You're thieves, and I mean that with all due respect. But my people will not see much difference if my part in this is uncovered. I can plead that I am doing this to help the town under my protection, which may or may not help my case."