Chapter 30: Aegis (Patreon)

Elliot took a sip of tea, the flavor washing over his tongue in a wave of lilac and honey. It was almost buttery in its richness, and he had to suppress an audible exclamation of pleasure.

“Quite good, isn’t it?” Hallus asked, eyeing Elliot expectantly from across the wide mahogony desk. “It’s shipped all the way from Solt.”

“It’s amazing,” Elliot replied, holding up the glass cup to appreciate the pale green color of the liquid.

“You’ve surprised me,” Hallus continued, “and that means I’m willing to consider investing in more than a purely enforced agreement with you. If your skill continues to impress, then I could even see a future with you at the head of one of our auction houses someday, reporting directly to a member of the family. But don’t mistake this for what it’s not. You will still come with us to Remmir, like it or not. You will still be surety of Grikarium’s good behavior. If he defies me, even moderately, indentured servitude is still your future.” Hallus looked over at his brother pointedly.

Grik frowned. “You can stop threatening him with every other word. I won’t see his future destroyed out of pettiness. If I must go home and plead my case to Father directly, then I will.”

“See you remember that commitment as the dust settles. Your friend is a pragmatist. You could stand to take his example.”

How to convey his intentions to Grik? Elliot needed to simultaneously present a happy, willing front to Hallus while letting the book merchant know he had absolutely no intention of working for the Tsoan family in any context.

“I understand the situation,” Elliot said, “and I think the future will be full of opportunities.” He shot Grik a look as he spoke, trying to do a quick eyebrow wriggle, but it might not have come across as intended because the man just gave him a strange look in reply.

“Perhaps,” Hallus said. “We shall see. Corvus, more tea, please.”

The blue-cloaked guard stepped over and poured gently, giving no visible indication that he resented being used as a server.

“If you have follow-through to match your talent, and if Grikarium can deliver on his end of the bargain, then you could significantly improve your station under my banner,” Hallus continued. “I value those who get things done as much or more than those of the right bloodline. You’re young. Have you been to the March, or were you raised in the wilds?”

“I’ve never been before,” Elliot said, taking another sip of tea. “I’d love to see it.” I should seem curious, out of my depth. If I get overwhelmed and wander off to see the sights in a city on the way, that would be an excellent cover for an escape.

“It’s quite the region. Some people say we’re stuck in our ways, still carrying too much of the old empire, but there’s value in tradition. Quintara is obsessed with novelty, Batak with violence, in fact of all our neighbors only Rhodea truly carries its own legacy with something akin to balance. Despite what people say, we are respectful of the old ways rather than old-fashioned.”

“How connected are the nations of the March?” Elliot asked, honestly curious. “I know they’re a unit in some ways, but they’re obviously not one country.”

Hallus and Grik exchanged a glance, the first gesture between them not oozing with animosity.

“It’s a complicated question,” Grik said.

“Not something you need to concern yourself with,” Hallus added briskly. “Focus on delivering the results you’ve promised, and leave the politics for when you’ve proven your worth.”

Grik snorted. “If my brother ever trusts you with politics, it’s because he has a tight enough grip on your life to work you like a hand puppet. You should pray he never sees fit to draw you into that world.”

“Your bitterness is noted, brother. Perhaps you betray a wish that I'd trusted you more in such areas.”

“You have a wild imagination. Nothing could possibly excite me less than politics. I couldn’t imagine something farther from the work I’m passionate about.”

“Tell me this, Grikarium,” Hallus said stiffly, narrowing his eyes. “Since you mention it, and since we find ourselves at the end of the line in regards to your misadventures. What do you see in it? Our father is one of the richest and most powerful merchants in all the Broken March. You could live in exquisite comfort and draw a hefty stipend by virtue of your birth alone, much less the riches that could be yours if you joined the family business in truth. This afternoon, instead of having this fight with me, you could be sitting on the cliffs overlooking the Droplet Lakes with a bottle of wine and anything else you could possibly desire. Instead you insist on playing in the dirt, huddling under canvas cloth to keep out of the rain, and trusting in your grimoires to keep you alive in the face of constant danger. Why?”

The look Grik sent his brother was frustrated, but also tinged with pity. “I won’t explain myself to someone like you. You’re all about winning, and taking. You get joy whenever your wealth grows and someone else’s shrinks, even if the actual work of being a merchant bores you. You love to crush other people and consume their resources. That’s not the life for me. I want excitement, challenge, the thrill of knowing I’ve discovered something that will mean something good for the world. I want to take risks in search of things someone will buy out of love. I want transactions where no one loses, because I brought real value to the table. You can’t understand. It’s just not in you.”

“Is that what you think of me?” Hallus asked, his eyes widening slightly. “I won’t deny that I’m good at what I do, and I take pleasure in that, but you truly don’t see the bigger picture? We’re merchants, Grikarium. For all our wealth, for all our influence, our survival hinges on the approbation of those with true power. I fight every day to maintain that influence, to maintain our dominance in as many facets of commerce as possible, because we exist on the edge of a knife. What do you think would happen to us if I failed, and we were no longer useful to the key players? What do you think would happen to Cassandra?” His eyes cut suddenly to Elliot, and he scowled. “This is not the appropriate venue for this conversation. We will continue it later.”

Grik was scowling as well, but he didn’t offer a rejoinder. Elliot kept silent, focusing on his beverage. Corvus maintained a neutral expression, but his shoulders were stiff, and his hands tense on the teapot.

Then the floor to ceiling glass window shattered into an uncountable storm of shards, golden light burning into the room as if they were beset by a second sun. Elliot let out a squawk, and dived for the floor.

“By all the Gods,” Hallus spat, jumping out of his chair and staggering backwards, “What is this? Corvus!”

The guard had already drawn his sword, blade as jet black as its pommel, and placed himself between Hallus and the new hole in the wall. What looked like dark lightning began to arc between his body and his weapon, while his blue cloak flared around him like he faced a stiff wind.

Grik raced to his dresser—currently placed against the far wall—and yanked open one of the drawers to allow him to rifle through. When he spun back to the former window he held a book in either hand, both open. The first began to emit a russet-brown glow, and the second began disgorging tiny metallic fish which darted in wide circles around Grik’s form.

Elliot had just started to crawl toward Grik when a figure haloed by the blinding light floated smoothly into the room, features indistinguishable through the blaze.

“Who dares?” Hallus shouted, covering his face with an arm. “I am Hallus Tsoan! Name yourself at once.”

Corvus darted forward just as Hallus finished speaking, black lightning crackling out ahead of him as he flicked his sword in an upwards strike.

The figure in gold made no move to stop him, but the guard froze, and the electricity around him snuffed out in an instant. He took another step forward, shaking, and then collapsed to the ground.

“I am Alys of Anthen, Towerbreaker of the Fourth Legion,” a harsh voice boomed out from the center of the radiance. “And I am here to dispense justice.”

Elliot gaped, and he twisted awkwardly onto his back.

“What?” Hallus asked, anger mixed with what seemed to be genuine confusion. “Why?” Then his eyes widened. “You can’t be serious. Are you here for the boy? You do know him?”

“He is owed. And you are mistaken if you think you can threaten casual murder and have none respond, Tsoan or not. If you think your father will back you in this, against the full depth of my authority, then you may accept a formal challenge and we will see what comes of it.”

“No! What?” Hallus sputtered. “This is insane, I didn’t actually threaten murder, it was a figure of speech. I’ve offered him a deal working with my family; I have absolutely nothing invested in punishing him. I’m here solely for my brother; the boy’s fate is incidental. If you name him yours then I relinquish all claims, and cede him to your care with no complaints.”

“Grik comes too,” Elliot shouted, still struggling to process what was happening. “He’s been taken against his will. Also hello,” he gulped, “and thank you for coming. I’m really sorry to inconvenience you, I thought you might send a letter, or something like that.”

The light dimmed, and Alys’ features became visible. Touching down to the ground, her blue eyes fixed on Elliot. “You are not injured?”

“No,” he said, “I’m doing okay. He was about to ship me off to Remmir with the threat of indentured servitude on the table if we didn’t both obey his commands, but I do think that the murder part wasn’t a serious thing.” Part of him felt bitter about contributing anything to Hallus’ defence, but it wouldn’t be right to lie to Alys. Maybe he would have embellished to the local authorities, but not her.

“And I have rescinded that threat,” Hallus said, eyeing the woman like she was about to explode. “Outside of idle conversation, I have done nothing but have this young man escorted to my office. Hardly an offense worthy of your intervention, my lady.” He shot a look at Elliot that held significantly more caution than those previous. “Perhaps a small monetary remuneration would be in order, and then we can part amicably.”

“I want Grik’s freedom,” Elliot said bluntly. “He’s a grown adult, and he’s broken no laws. I may not know much, but I know this is a freeholt, and you have no legal basis to take him.”

“Come now,” Hallus said, frowning. “I have rescinded any claim on your person and offered restitution for your time and distress. Grikarium, however, is most certainly Tsoan family business. It would not be reasonable for the Towerbreaker to intervene.”

“That is true, unfortunately," Alys added. “Your safety and freedom I will personally guarantee, Elliot, but he has more latitude with a direct member of his family.”

“I’m glad we can have a reasonable dialogue,” Hallus said, brushing at the front of his tunic.

“However,” Alys added, “you are under no obligation to accept his apology, or his offer of remuneration. I owe you a debt, Elliot Field, and I name you under my Aegis.”

“What?” Hallus practically choked out, eyebrows shooting up. “You can’t do that. He’s a commoner, a second-circle merchant, nobody!”

“And yet,” Alys said, “it is done.”

“Oh my,” Grik murmured.

Elliot drew himself to his feet and took a step towards Grik. He wasn’t sure what it meant to be under an Aegis, but it sounded promising.

“As a person under my Aegis,” Alys continued, “you are afforded the status of nobility by Remmirian law. That means that using physical force to compel you is a first-degree offense.”

“My lady, please,” Hallus managed, droplets of sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. “This is outrageous.”

“I leave it to you, Elliot. You have exercised good judgement in the past, and shown mercy when it wasn’t required. If you wish to wave away this transgression, that is your right. If you do not choose to do so, however, then I will lay the charge myself.”

“Thank you,” Elliot replied softly, feeling a prickling sensation at the corner of his eyes. “Thank you for coming to get me. I’ll never forget this.”

Alys smiled. “You are owed. And it is my pleasure to slap down overreaching nobility regardless. Do not think you’ve put me to any real trouble.”

“Young man,” Hallus began, “please, I have significant means—”

“Grik goes free. No strings, no restraints. And I want your personal promise that you will support his freedom to the rest of your family to the best of your ability.”

Hallus’ face twisted as if he had bitten off a chunk of lemon. “I have a duty that I cannot discharge without—”

“Stop. Your answer is either yes or no. I don’t pretend to be a good negotiator, and I’m not interested in practicing with you. Either you accept or you don’t, and even if you don’t I would bet that you getting arrested would give Grik an excellent head start anyway.”

The man in black’s mouth worked for a moment, his hands practically spasming, but then he mastered himself with a visible effort of will and came back to stillness. “Very well. I find this entire situation ridiculous, and will not forget this, but you have my word. I will personally guarantee Grik’s freedom, and do my best to smooth over matters with the family.”

“And you said you speak for the family in this matter, yes?” Elliot asked. “In an official capacity? So you making this promise, on the record and in front of Lady Alys, is presumably binding for the Tsoan family as a whole?”

A slight quiver passed through his body, but then Hallus took a deep breath. “Yes, I suppose that would follow.”

“Witnessed,” Alys added briskly. “And I will make note of it with the Sunsguard, as well as sending a letter to your father to formalize the matter.”

“Excellent,” Hallus practically hissed out, closing his eyes. “Most excellent, my lady.”

“Are you sure?” Grik asked softly. “You actually speak with Father’s voice in this matter?”

“I do,” Hallus bit out, “though I imagine my standing in his eyes will be falling shortly.”

“I can’t believe it,” Grik breathed, before turning to bow to Alys. “My lady, I owe you a great debt.” He turned to Elliot, bowing even deeper. “And you, my friend, I cannot express the depth of my gratitude. Please know that if you ever need anything, all you need do is ask.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Elliot replied. “Alys is the one who saved us both. We can both owe her the favor.”

“You owe me nothing,” Alys said firmly, “neither of you. If you are ready, I will escort you both out before I return to my duties.”

“Before we go,” Grik said hesitantly, “we should still get you your visitor registration, Elliot. It really will be a help in the city. That is, if you have the time, my lady.”

“Be my guest,” she replied.

The process of registering proved to be fairly straightforward, and it was only a half hour later that Elliot and Grik finally arrived at the meeting place which Hadrian had indicated upon their arrival. Alys had parted from them as soon as they left the building, promising to send the letter that evening.

Hadrian was waiting by a tall, thin structure that leaned against the trunk. He was scowling. “What happened to you both? I have been waiting for nearly an hour.”

Elliot sighed. “I want to be very clear that it wasn’t my fault.”

Hadrian’s eyes narrowed.

By the end of Elliot’s recounting, Hadrian’s eyes were closed, and he appeared to be practicing a meditative breathing technique. “So. You leave on a quest for a visitor registration, one of the simplest and most foundational tasks that could be pursued in Tular, and within an hour you have caused a feud between the Sunsguard and the Tsoan family. Are you aware that we generally try to avoid excessive attention, or has that not yet been communicated to you?”

“Well it was that or be sold into indentured servitude,” Elliot muttered. “And I wouldn’t say I caused it. I perhaps nudged things in that direction, but ‘caused’ feels too strong.”

“Please refrain from repeating any similar antics for the remainder of our stay,” Hadrian said icily. “It would have been much better to play along and allow me to handle the situation. Breaking you out of a Tsoan’s grasp would have been annoying, but less obtrusive.”

Elliot felt a swell of warmth in his chest. So they would have come for him. “I’ll bear that in mind moving forward.”

Hadrian had booked them a broadback as promised, and after stepping onto its thickly-furred back they began to rise. After passing through the bottom of the canopy, Elliot started to be able to make out the details of the upper city. Massive branches radiated out from the trunk like offset spokes of a wheel, the light brown slab-pattern of their bark forming a traversable surface for thousands of pedestrians on the move.

Between the branches a thick webbing was slung, with paths of what looked to be heavy canvas woven in, forming a convoluted network for travel through the open air. There were far fewer people out on the net, and those braving it could be seen gently swaying as the ropes beneath them undulated slowly in the wind. There were structures everywhere, from small caves carved into the wood of Mother Yarba herself to large tent structures set up in the middle of the netting.

Closer to the trunk the webbing gave way to an encircling wooden platform, allowing buildings to be packed together around the entire circumference of the tree with only narrow ways between them to allow foot traffic. Unlike the contained environs of Bastogne, this felt as bustling as a city might have back on Earth.

Grik, still slightly hunched in on himself after the trials of the morning, looked over at Elliot. "I'm sure you will have many demands on your time, but if it's not too much trouble, would you like me to show you around some of the guilds tomorrow? I feel terrible that I've ruined your first impression of such a wondrous city.”

Elliot glanced at Hadrian, who shrugged without looking back. "Yeah, I think I'll have time. Let's do it."

After being dropped off at a cleared area obviously designed for air traffic, Grik waved goodbye and set off trunkwards. Hadrian hustled Elliot the other way, out towards the tip of the branch. As the way narrowed, it became clear they were headed for the very last structure he could see, wrapped like a wooden bracelet around the tip of the bough.

Elliot felt his stomach sink slightly. He didn't hate heights, but they weren't his favorite either. "We're not staying there, are we?"

"We are. But worry not, you will be far too busy to spend any time thinking about the fall. A short trip to the Guilds will work well, as Breka would like you to seek membership with one in particular to help with future subterfuge, but after that you will be busy training. And Breka has someone for you to meet. She wants to see the limits of your appraisal ability more thoroughly tested."