Toofy Ch. 09

"But the humans come for her." He agreed, looking down the cells. Then he let out a roar of defiance, and growled in human, "Any who harms the cat, will die. Any of you fools in your little cells. The bars will not keep me out."

Toofy's palm hit her face and she sighed, "She just told him not to hurt anyone!"

"They are not men. They are beasts." He growled at her in neko, "Daen is as a brother to her, he can only tolerate so much. Family, not slave."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, "Her temple sisters used to beat her and stick worms in her food. Toofy does not want family. Friend, he may be. If he doesn't be stupid and get himself killed."

"My family lives. For the first time in two decades, my family lives." He insisted, "Toofy knows her grandfather. May Daen know his name? Know who she is?"

Castelle arrived and began whispering with the guards, who had probably just seen two cats miaowing at each other frantically. Not a good impression, but not a terrible one, either.

Toofy sighed heavily, "She won't care, either way. Her grandfather was Resic."

"Resic the Red." The man said in awe, as the guards opened the cell. The neko willingly moved back to be bound up, as Toofy departed.

She looked back at him with disappointment, and spoke in human, "She wants him to play, next time. He was annoying."

Castelle frowned, "What did the two of you talk about, Lady Twenty Four?"

"Family." She said quietly, "He wanted to know about Toofy's family, but she is an orphan. Raised by human temple. She does not know her family."

Castelle would know enough about magic that he might know she was lying. It wouldn't much matter, though. His frustration would lead to him doing what he always did.

She'd seeded the forest before she approached his wife, this morning.

He spun on his heel, "You should become decent, Lady Twenty Four. I expect guests, this afternoon. You will greet them when they arrive."

Her jaw tightened. She hadn't known that.

The timing couldn't be worse.

---

Arina was terrified.

She always felt uncomfortable leaving the estate on her own, but if anyone saw her loitering within sight of the office where Isaac was working, arranging affairs of the estate, it might be grounds to torture her.

Considering how badly the vines were withering at the moment, she might be accused of poisoning them and dragged in for punishment, followed by a swift execution.

There was no good reason for a handmaiden to leave her lady's side, let alone be found at another estate.

Twenty Four had insisted on it. Demanded quite angrily that Arina watch and confirm that Isaac received and opened a particular chest. The key for it was apparently in a letter, that only he would have permission to open.

Arina always had a bad feeling when Toofy insisted on something.

Now, more than ever, she was terrified of the mistress. Though Twenty Four had been acting happy and bouncy, she was showing signs of anxiety that made her seem even more excitable than usual.

Waking up early was not the natural way of things for the neko.

It had not been Arina's turn to share the mistress' bed, but she had seen Elia leaving in a huff that morning. The succubus did not hide her emotions, and the guards stayed clear of the exotic monstress.

Yet, by that point Arina had already seen Twenty Four. Her mistress had woken her, climbing in through the window in mud-stained boots with her terrifying look in her eye.

She had kissed the handmaiden before she could even sit up, and then instructed her to be here, at this place and time.

Arina didn't know what to make of it.

She breathed in sharply as she saw a servant placing a small box on the desk that was once Sai's, and now served Isaac. The bastard who had hurt her. Scarred her back.

A frightened tear slipped down her cheek.

She might not know how to express the rage of her mistress, but she felt true wrath towards the man. He was a symbol of everything that was wrong in the world, everything the gods hated.

A man who seized everything around him, like Twenty Four, but did it without respect for what he was taking. He gave no choices to those who ended up in his way. He simply stole from them.

Her mistress gave everyone the choice.

So long as you stayed out of her way, and didn't dare to bring harm to what she cared about, then Twenty Four really couldn't give a damn if you lived or died.

She even showed kindness to those she was stealing from. Lady Castelle knew that Twenty Four intended to take the estate and influence from her husband.

Yet, the woman willingly let the mistress do as she wished.

Embraced it, even.

Arina could not say that her mistress wasn't a heretic. She was chaos itself, an offence to the gods in every way. The handmaiden's own soul was damned for loving her.

Yet... Yet despite this, she was saintly when compared to Isaac.

Arina would always hate the man for what he had done to her. Forcing himself on her the moment she arrived, a new maid in an unfamiliar household.

Punishing her with a belt, and forcing himself on her again, the very moment his master was taken away. Instead of doing his duty and protecting the household, he lashed out like an angry child.

Isaac finished reading the letter, and opened the chest in front of him.

Arina frowned, uncertain if she'd witnessed what it was that her mistress had wanted her to see. He'd received it, and opened it. Was that all that there was to it?

She scratched her cheek, shrugged, and was in the process of turning when she saw Isaac topple from his seat.

Her eyes went wide and she stared in abject horror.

Arina ran, as quickly as she could. Determined to put as much distance between herself and the mortal sin she was now a witness to.

Her stomach was in her mouth, as she struggled not to throw up.

Twenty Four killed him.

She had outright murdered him... And made sure to show it off to Arina as if this had been some sort of gift. A present, bundled up and delivered.

As if the loss of a soul could ever be such a thing.

The handmaiden stopped by the side of the road to throw up, as she realised that her mistress would smile proudly at her, and ask her if she liked the present.

She'd killed someone!

The lords that served the empire might regularly be generals and soldiers, but the ladies were not. How could... Twenty Four... Do such a thing?

She had stopped Lady Castelle from killing her husband. Had that just been because the result would be inconvenient? Arina had thought her lady might find a more peaceful solution to that. A less sinful one.

Yet...

Isaac was dead.

Killed in cold blood, right in front of her.

Arina heaved again.

---

Sai stepped out of the carriage, breathing in the crisp and cold air. His manacles clinked as he moved down the single stair to the servants awaiting him, and the royal guard unit assigned to watch him.

He looked at the relatively low-level servants with some concern, having expected that Castelle would be there in person. He had volunteered his property for the trial, so Sai had expected to exchange a few barbs, at least.

One of the servants bowed as the head of the guard unit approached, "What is the meaning of this? Where is Lady Twenty Four? We were told to expect her."

"A tragedy, sir." The servant said quickly, "Lord Castelle was out riding. But a few moments ago, he was found, thrown from his horse and badly injured. Lady Twenty Four, and Lady Castelle, are with him. I am called -"

"I really don't care. Fetch whoever is in charge." The guard snapped.

The man smiled tightly, "You are speaking to him. I have not been introduced to society of late, but I am Lord Castelle the Third."

The son.

Sai smiled slowly, impressed. This pathetic wretch would replace his father, and there was no way he would be up for resisting Sai's little vixen.

Especially not when she had so boldly just killed the father.

"Have the others arrived?" The guard snapped.

The man inclined his head, "Lords Westcolm and Han are currently examining the scene of Lord Castelle's fall. Lord Han has found... Evidence... That it was not, in fact, an accident."

"The timing is impossible to ignore." The royal guard said, and pointed at someone, "You two, assist the lords. The rest of you, reinforce the wards on the prisoner. Lord Castelle, I insist that you take Lady Twenty Four into custody. Her old master arrives, her new is in critical condition."

"I cannot comply." The younger lord swallowed, "She is the one attempting to heal him. Lord Westcolm approved it, and none others here have her magic, or alchemy, to deal with the situation. My father hangs by his grave."

The guard gave a deep sigh, "We should return the prisoner to his cell. What of the other lords?"

"Lord Vanhern, Lord Yu, and Domina Florence await us in the room prepared for the trial." Lord Castelle the Younger said stiffly, "Lord Vanhern assures me that the four of us are enough for the trial to take place. There is no reason for the accused to cross paths with Lady Twenty Four."

"Ban her from entering." The guard nodded stiffly, and then raised a fist, calling the escort closer.

If Lord Han was here, and suspected Toofy, then she was entirely fucked. That was a massive amount of bad luck sent her way.

Han was the Minister of Order. He had cut his teeth on murder investigations, and he would know a political assassination when he saw one.

Westcolm wouldn't be able to protect Toofy, this time.

Why the hell had Toofy chosen today of all day to get rid of the lord? She... She must not have known about the trial. She wasn't this stupid.

Castelle might just have managed his vengeance, from his inevitable grave.

---

The elf looked at the newcomers to the town carefully, as she sipped at the small saucer of something toxic and altogether alcoholic.

Trician examined the group of about a dozen. They were dressed as a merchant and his guards, but if that man was actually a merchant then she'd eat a roast.

The elf glanced to her companion, and Kaleid gave a small nod of agreement.

These men were of royal training.

The kind of people who would be more than willing to go up in a fight against you because they had trained their entire lives to battle ever stronger enemies.

They sought out violence, confident in their ability to win, because they were the best of the best in the empire.

Kaleid gave a small snort, and frowned, "He doesn't smell human."

Trician looked at the merchant, and then waved to the man. "Good sir. Come, have a drink with me."

He approached her deliberately, throwing his cloak over his shoulder as he entered the tavern. He inclined his head to the both of them, "I take it that strangers are a rarity here."

"I would guess so, but I also am a stranger to these parts." Trician admitted, "I am an elf of an unknown and small house, seeking to form some business relationships with the farmers here. You may call me Karlia."

"Tyre." He bowed his head, "And I would suggest not lying to me, in future, if you expect to stay hidden. Elves are not good at lying, even with practice. I do not know your name or crime, and I am uninterested, but it doesn't bode well when we set off on that foot."

Kaleid gave an angry snort, and put a hand deliberately on the table.

She laughed and picked up a bowl and poured some of the local shine into it and held it out to him, "I said you may call me Karlia, not that it was my name. There was no lie, just an intent to deceive."

Tyre took it and sat slowly, "An interesting slave, ma'am. It has been a very long time since I saw an ono. Last time... Must have been during the war with the northern tribes."

Kaleid looked at him with utter hatred, "You fought in the war."

"Many of us did." Tyre shrugged, "It doesn't reflect whether we hated your kind or not. Or any kind. My sponsor has a neko mistress. I, myself, have no strong feelings one way or another on human superiority. But it is the opinion of the empire which we all serve."

"Kaleid is only incidentally a slave. The collar is a result of an errant spell." Trician tried to smooth things over, "We are attempting to locate someone who can free him."

Tyre blinked, "It happens that there is a mage within my troupe who could do so, for a fee. No pay if they fail, of course."

Trician felt her heart skip a beat.

Admitting that it was even possible was more than anyone she had spoken to had done. Yet this inhuman human was offering it up at some kind of price. "Is that so? What would this fee entail?"

"It would take a few days, first." The man said slowly, sipping at his drink, "I am but the advance for my sponsor, and it is they who are protected by a mage of the requisite skill."

"Your sponsor, I assume they would set the price." Trician said with disappointment.

He nodded, "Indeed. However, that does not mean we could not discuss other business before their arrival. You have already made contacts within the town, it seems."

"A few." Trician felt like he was trying to exploit her. That maybe he was just another snakeoil salesman... And yet... Yet, he was not human.

Tyre smiled sweetly at her, "If I may offer some unwanted advice, Karlia who is not Karlia, if I were intending to stay hidden, then I would not display your diamonds so prominently."

She pulled her hand back and inside her sleeve quickly, "I sell my foresight, on occasion, sir."

"You are not just some elven shaman." Tyre said drily, "Those markings are the stars. I confess to have never met a prophet of any kind, but I am surprised that no one has yet recognised it."

Trician smiled slowly, "Perhaps I should read you, sir. To determine whether or not you would be a fitting partner to our future business endeavours."

"Reading me is not for the faint-hearted." He replied, and placed down his bowl, "But I have no direct opposition to this."

Kaleid tensed up, as she lifted her hand, looking at the diamonds and shivering as she saw the past and future dimly. Like gazing through a foggy mirror at a forgotten dream.

The elf felt immediately drained, and her head nodded as it almost fell. "I see... I see the goddess of mischief in your future, sir. I see sickness, and hatred. I see... Shadows of death. I am afraid... I saw nothing good."

"Goddess of mischief?" He asked in surprise, "I am unfamiliar with the elven gods. There is no goddess of mischief acknowledged by the temple."

Trician gave a small smile, "She is not elven, sir. She was one of the betrayer gods, expelled in ancient history. If I recall my mother's lessons accurately, then her form is that of a fox. A kitsune, to be precise."

Tyre leaned back, "That is a grim reading, miss. A very grim one."

"Indeed, but most are, these days." Trician sighed and shrugged, "You see it more on the fringes of the empire. Belief in the emperor is waning here, as famine and disease run rampant. All the wineries in this area are withered and dead. There are no more homeless, their bodies collected and burned to prevent the spread of illness."

He nodded, "My sponsor seeks a steady supply of food, stretching their funds to ensure they can continue to feed those who are their responsibility. Much hope is being lost, as the emperor is hidden in his temple."

"The border with my own people is beginning to fray." Trician offered a piece of bait to him, "Even the elven empire is uncertain whether they should continue to bow and scrape."

He didn't take it, simply looking grim, "War is an unfortunate consequence of civil unrest, in so many times. If only we had plenty, we could avoid such unpleasant things."

"You smell of death." Kaleid interrupted rudely.

Tyre smiled and shrugged, "Of course I do. We encountered not one, but several parties of draug upon our way here."

"Draug?" Trician's eyes widened, "You came from the west. There are draug upon the road, already?"

"Already?"

She bit her tongue, upset with herself for revealing that small but important piece of information. She looked out at the main road, and tried to calm her frantic heart. "I was aware that there was a plague of them, moving inwards towards the empire's heart. Something has caused the barrow-dwellers to wake."

"More portents of ill." Tyre said non-commitally, "However, the phantoms were of little import. I did not even need to leave my horse before they were dispatched. They are of no true danger, if one keeps their wits about them, miss."

Trician shook her head, "It seems I cannot leave anytime soon. The soulless have a certain affection for elven blood, sir. My protector is skilled, but lonesome."

"Perhaps my sponsor can arrange an escort for you, if our future business goes well." Tyre offered to her.

"Most generous of you, sir."

He shrugged and refilled both their saucers, "But enough depressing news of the empire. We are strangers upon the road. We should drink and be merry!"

She toasted with him, and sipped at the strong liquid, "From where do you hail, good Tyre?"

"Nothing good about me. I am a businessman, in a time of chaos." He replied forthrightly, and avoided answering her question. "My mother, may she rest, was a maid at one of Lord Han's estates."

Minister Han of Order, owned nearly ten percent of the land in the empire. It was about as ambiguous a description of any that could possibly be had.

The aura around this supposed merchant was strange. It was not fixed, as it should be. Fluctuating wildly, and making it difficult for her to what kind of man he was.

At times it appeared human, full of pain and rage. At others it was that of an eagle, or that of a lion. Beastly creatures that she recognised from the forest, protective spirits.

"Goddess, guide my path." She prayed quietly, and looked at him, "You are nothing but an enigma, good sir. But I find myself led towards you. The trust of the gods upon you."

Tyre frowned, "I would not so easily trust, miss."

"It is our destinies, interwoven." She said confidently, "My step, now falls to shadow yours. There can be no doubt of this, so I allow you my name. I am Trician."

He shrugged, "An amount of trust, which I find... Ill-advised. Yet, I do not know your name, Miss Trician."

"Trician, daughter of Tresian, Empress of the Golden Mountain. Chosen Emissary of the Goddess of Mischief, Betrayer of the Silent Winds." She said firmly, "Exiled and named Godkiller, for the attempted murder of Astadia of the Golden Mountain. Marked and hunted by the verdilac."

Kaleid slammed a fist onto the table, "Are you drunk?"

"Our paths are one." She snapped at him, glaring, "Do you dare to defy me? Be silent. This is the way forward."

Tyre winced, shaking his head, "I... An elven princess, expelled for trying to kill her own mother. You're trusting me with too much. You endanger my purpose here. Your death may become necessary."

Trician cringed at his wording.

Her loyal slave stood up and turned towards the newcomer, hooves shaking the ground as he flexed every muscle in his body that could snap hers in half at a moment's notice.

Tyre waved a hand tiredly at the man, "I'd rather a drink, than a fight. I have simply given your ladyship advice to move on."

The onokentaura picked the man up by the shoulders and hauled him into the air. Glaring at him fiercely, "I recognise you now, abomination. That arrogance, is unforgettable. You were with Sai's regiment. Fighting beside him as he slaughtered mine. I have no need of an excuse for vengeance."

"His path is ours!" Trician exploded, "By the gods unhand him, Kaleid, or I will abandon you!"

Tyre dropped back into his seat, his facial expression never changing.

Kaleid turned back to her, hatred burning in his eyes, "You position yourself against me, in this?"