It was impossible to tell if the baron was sitting in full belief, but he nodded again. “The Plum Temple. Hmmm. Yes. I’d like to hear the particulars of this offer, if you would.”
Hewspear said, “I was in the ale garden, at the rear of the Grieving Dog. I’m not sure if you’ve had cause to visit there, my lord, but the garden is something to behold. Several large trees that I suspect aren’t native to this land, no doubt brought here at great cost simply to provide shade.
“A man approached, asked if he could speak to me a moment in private. Curious, I agreed. He then asked if I was a Syldonian soldier. I was taken aback somewhat, but wanted to see where this led, so admitted that I was. He moved into the meat of his proposal without more preamble, apparently worried we would be joined by more ears. He claimed to represent someone who bore you no love at all, and wondered if the sentiment was shared. I replied without commitment one way or the other, hoping to hear him out in his entirety. He continued, saying that love of the kingdom was no love at all if it was words and no action. I pressed him to unpack that statement, which he did, saying this barony could no longer abide by its baron, who was threatening the nature of things. That’s what he said. ‘Threatening the nature of things.’
“I asked then what he intended to do about it, and that’s when he stated that it was too dangerous to move with local men, as allegiances were suspect, but that outsiders such as ourselves, particularly those who bore you no love at all, might be bought to carry out a dark deed that would benefit the barony and kingdom greatly. To play this out in full, I told him I cared less about baronies than my light purse, and he promised the benefit there would be equally good.”
For a man listening to a dialogue about his impending death, the baron seemed remarkably undistressed, either disbelieving the tale, or disbelieving it could be carried out. “I’m hoping this man offered a great deal as enticement for such a venture fraught with grave risk.”
Hewspear replied, “He said if you were removed, the man who seceded you would bring order to the region. He mentioned that you were as a plague to the king, and that a good many men with much to gain would be exceptionally grateful. I, of course, wanted a number fixed to this gratitude. He replied that he was prepared to offer ten thousand in silver.”
“It’s good to be valued so highly,” the baron said. “And so, why report this to me in these strange circumstances then? Why not carry the action out? As you noted so keenly, I’m often rash and sacrifice personal safety in order to mingle with the lowborn. There are probably several locations I could’ve made a tempting target, and you exposed this as one of them.”
Gurdinn’s face grew purple at this, though he said nothing as the baron continued, “So why not assassinate me? Why would the mighty Syldoon Empire care what befalls a minor baron so far from their borders?”
Braylar replied, “You do yourself a disservice. There’s no such thing as a minor baron, particularly in this kingdom where the barons have nearly as much sway over the running of the kingdom as the king himself. More, it could be argued. But you’re correct, our interests are hardly selfless. They are, not surprisingly, quite mercenary in fact. It’s widely known you patronize the merchants and guilds, and do whatever you can to sponsor their growth. This has surely upset your nobles and holy men. But putting that aside, we hope that a man who recognizes the importance of all things mercantile would be persuaded to advocate for increased trade between our kingdoms. Your Great Fair, while clearly living up to its reputation, would increase profits immeasurably if Syldonian goods also found stalls here.”
The baron laughed. “You seem well-informed for would-be assassins. But then you must know that I’m currently not in the king’s favor. In fact, some would say that I’m squarely in the middle of his disfavor. Why not eliminate me, or at least allow the priests to hire someone else to do so if you wanted to keep your hands clean, in the hopes that my successor proved less an irritant to our very young monarch?”
“You’re a powerful man with powerful friends, despite what you say. We would do what we can to improve your status at court.”
“We?”
Braylar uncapped a leather container and pulled out a scroll. “This document permits me to speak on behalf of the emperor himself in this matter. We would have trade routes reopened between our kingdoms, my lord. And your young king, if you’ll forgive me for saying so, has been misled greatly in this matter. Men like yourself could lay strong argument before the king. That’s our purpose in your province, and why there are other Syldoon in other baronies unrolling similar documents before similar barons. Though I suspect not in the moldy basement of a crumbling theatre. But the priest’s proposition forced us to act a little sooner than we intended. Your assassination would surely upset our plans.”
After reading the document, the baron said, “There’s still the matter of me being greatly out of favor. I suspect my young liege mislikes my rubbing elbows with guildmasters as much as my own fieflords here.”
“As I said, my lord, some work still needs to be done to smooth the way. A Syldonian diplomat is on his way to visit your king now, to assist in… healing the divisions in your kingdom. There are a good number of barons no longer enjoying his good graces—you’re hardly alone. Just as there has been violence along our borders for decades. We would have our peoples deal with each other peaceably. To that end, we’ll do what we can to see that the young king maintains his throne and the respect of his people during this difficult period of ascension, and that advisors don’t poison his good reason. We’ll do our best to convince the king to shorten the shadow of his disfavor. Once you’ve been welcomed back to court and his beneficent graces, and you and the other barons assume your rightful place in the assembly, we’re hoping you could make the argument for a more open and mutually beneficial relationship between our peoples.
“Which is why we’re here with you tonight. Your positions are widely known. Your potential successor? Who can say. We would sooner deal with the known than unknown.”
The baron sat back in his chair. “So, then, Voice of the Syldoon, you’re here to save my life and help restore my place in Kingdom Assembly. All to possibly create trade agreements between our kingdoms?”
Braylar leaned forward. “The stability of your kingdom is of the utmost importance to us, Baron Brune, and civil war in your barony would assuredly not be in our best interests. Tends to dampen foreign trade quite a bit when all of your resources are funneled into killing each other.”
“Most kind.”
“Not speaking on behalf of anyone save myself, I can tell you plainly that the welfare of your subjects interests me only so far as it affects the traffic of goods and ideas between us. I’m here to preserve that. To do that, I must preserve you.”
The baron turned to Gurdinn. “A play, political intrigue, and assassinations and civil war averted. Who knew we had so much excitement in store for us when we left the castle today?” Back to Braylar. “And what is it you would have me do, Captain Killcoin?”
“Ten or twelve players have no doubt fled into the night, spreading word that two assassins confronted you in the underbelly of the theatre. If you were seen leaving here, half-carried perhaps, returning directly to your castle in such haste that your carriage nearly ran down some revelers in the street…”
He left the thought unfinished for the baron, who picked it up, “I’m to be an amateur player, appearing the corpse then, am I?”
Hewspear said, “You could bathe yourself in buckets of fake gore if you really want to play the part. This is a playhouse, after all, I’m sure there’s some here in one cabinet or other. But the spectacle of your flight coupled with the rumors in the streets will be enough to sell the illusion, I’ve no doubt.”
Baron Brune drummed his fingers on his knees. “This would cause panic in the barony. Perhaps celebration in some corners, but surely panic in others. All during the height of the Great Fair? And to what end?”
Braylar replied, “It would take several days for the rumors to take on the strength of truth, assuming you stayed secluded in your castle and didn’t venture forth to dispel them. But we agreed to meet with those who would see you dead to accept payment two days from now. You can send a few men to accompany us, to the ruined temple in the crook of the river Debt. We can capture the man there and turn him over to you for interrogation. You’ll learn the identity of the man or men who move against you. I suspect he doesn’t act independently.”
“And this charade you propose, this spectacle—”
“Ends the moment you’ve learned the identity and captured or killed all parties responsible. But in order for this plan to succeed, it’s vital it appears you’re dead or dying. I also suspect that the man or men who hired me have spies in your circle. The contact alerted us you’d be here tonight, and vulnerable to attack. Only someone well placed could’ve known that, yes? So, announce nothing publicly, and allow the rumors to grow as you stay secluded in your chamber and reveal these plans to no one else. Once you’ve destroyed your enemies and rooted out any spies, you emerge to put the rumors to rest, claiming you were merely ill. Certainly your town guards can prevent any civil unrest for a few days while this small playlet runs its course. Obviously, their numbers are swelling just now with the fair on.”
The baron pursed his lips. “You put me in an awkward position, Captain. You’ll forgive me if I’m skeptical, but I haven’t verified these documents of yours to a certainty, haven’t met with my council, or even had time to consider this fully alone. I’m prone to acting impulsively, it’s no secret, and enjoy spectacle more than most men, but this… you ask a great deal. This is an awkward position. Precarious, even. Even if I believed you in full, something of such import must be weighed and measured against possible ramifications. And if I’m struck by suspicion as to your claims, why shouldn’t I detain you in order to confirm your version of these events? Or better still, why not aggressively pursue the validity of claims on my own? I pride myself on maintaining a stable of truly gifted interrogators. I’ve no doubt they could unearth the truth, no matter how deeply buried.”
Now it was Braylar’s turn to seem relatively unfazed, despite the fact that his life hung in the balance. “As to the first or second, that would be a prudent course of action, I must admit. But in doing so, you’ll assuredly lose any chance of capturing the man who hired me to kill you. We swore you would die this night. I’m confident that if he has eyes inside your castle, it would be no difficult feat to mark you entering the playhouse here tonight, and marking the nature of your departure as well. If you leave to consult with your council, you’ll either alert his eyes in the streets or his spies in your house. You might as well send a courier to your enemies promising time to vacate their grounds and form a new plan. And as to me, if not detained, I would be forced to flee with my men. I have no idea how large the contingent that moves against you, but even with your small lapse in security tonight, you’re fairly well guarded. My force has no built-in protection. And if detained, well, I would simply be an unwilling guest while you waited for correspondence, and hence, verification, to travel, during which you lose a grand opportunity of uprooting the cabal formed against you. It could be the High Priest, as I suspect. It could be another member of their order. It’s also possible that the man who hired us is only loosely affiliated with the Plum Temple. He mentioned ‘great men’ behind this, so who is to say?
“And as to the third option, you strike me as a man who judges well the capabilities of those in his service. Interrogating me is your baronial prerogative, of course. But while I’m but a humble tool to the Syldoon Empire, we’re a notoriously protective fraternity, and generally choose to torture or kill our own, looking unfavorably at outsiders who avail themselves to do the same. I can’t say for certain, but I strongly suspect that the Syldoon would not only lose interest in assisting you reclaim your rightful place in the assembly, but they might even take an assault on me as an assault on the Empire itself. Again, this has less to do with me overvaluing myself than it does the prickly nature of the Syldonian heart.”
Braylar maintained the placidity of someone describing how springs and bolts move in a lock, adding, “Your decision is of course your own, Baron Brune. I can’t hope to counsel you further. I have outlined one way to proceed. However, should you choose to pursue this course of action, I advise you to do so shortly.”
The baron tapped his chin twice with a long forefinger. “Precarious, at best.”
Gurdinn stepped next to the baron and kneeled. “I’ve held my tongue this entire time, my lord, but I hope that you aren’t seriously considering doing as this man says. He’s a Black Noose. He can’t be trusted.”
The baron waved a hand for Gurdinn to rise. “You’ve ever been a loyal servant, Captain Gurdinn, as your father was to mine. What would you advise?”
“Whatever you will, my lord. So long as it isn’t putting faith in this horsetwat. Release him, arrest him, kill him now, doesn’t matter to me, so long as you don’t trust this lying—”
Braylar interrupted, “Lord Lackyouth, I’ve no doubt you’ve provided your baron sound counsel in the past, but it does seem as if you’re letting passion obscure your reason just now. I believe we’ve just met, and yet you hook me arm in arm with all the devils who walk the sordid earth.”
Gurdinn ignored him, still speaking to the baron. “I would sooner soak my cock in honey and ask a bear not to bite than trust a Black Noose, my lord.”
Braylar clapped and said, “I wouldn’t have suspected you of such colorful wit, Captain Honeycock. You’re a man of surprising gifts.”
Gurdinn wheeled on him, hand on his sword. “Shut your mouth, right quick.”
“Enough, the both of you.” The baron stood and slowly paced the length of the chamber. He made several passes as everyone waited in silence for his answer, and then, speaking mostly to himself, he said, “It’s true that if the Syldoon had meant me harm, they could’ve done as much already.”