Victor of Tucson

Book 9: Chapter 25: Schemes

When Victor finally returned to his chambers atop the central tower in his palace, he was exhausted. Tyla Haveshi had kept him talking to her, her son, Draj, and half a dozen elder cousins—the decision-makers in the clan—for nearly four hours. In the end, Victor concluded that the people of the Haveshi family were more afraid of fading into obscurity than they were upset about the loss of Qi Pot and their status as the de facto rulers of Iron Mountain.

It wasn’t that he trusted Tyla or the many people in that room, but after four hours in which he’d been introduced to children and been regaled with tales of the honors so many of them had won, Victor couldn’t detect an ounce of animosity. He couldn’t believe that so many people with such varied experiences could hide hatred or lust for vengeance so smoothly. Of course, he was smart enough to know that he was projecting his own mentality and morals onto those people, so he knew better than to grant everything they wanted carte blanche.

He'd still insisted that they take up residence in the city, but he’d been very open to the idea that many of them would continue to serve the duchy and, as they’d all requested, his household. It was almost like they wanted him to be their surrogate patron. After listening to Tyla talk about tradition for over an hour, Victor was beginning to understand that it wasn’t all that uncommon for a lord of an estate to do so. Somehow, that wily, young-looking, old woman had made him come around to the idea that he was, for all intents and purposes, responsible for them now.

Tyla had let one little revelation slip during their hours-long talk; she was close friends with Queen Kynna and had been since long before Xan had been aggressive to Gloria. When Victor learned that much, a lot of pieces fell into place. Kynna had known that Tyla would behave this way, that she’d cling to him and want to make her family indispensable to him—dependent on him. The most annoying thing about knowing that was that it had still worked; Victor liked Tyla, and even Draj had begun to grow on him, offering advice and information freely, putting his knowledge of the duchy on exhibition.

Victor shook his head, sighing, looking out over his balcony toward the enormous Iron Mountain. Its slopes were painted orange by the impending sunset, making Victor think of fire and magma. He wondered just how long it had been since the monstrous volcano had last blown its top. It had to be thousands of years. A knock sounded, and he turned away from the view, striding across the richly appointed sitting room to the foyer and the door that led to the guardroom outside his elevator.

When he opened the door, Bryn stood there, and just behind her was Queen Kynna. “Her Majesty is here to see you, milord.”

“Thanks, Bryn.” Victor pulled the door wide and gestured for the queen to enter, bowing slightly. “Hello, Your Majesty.”

“Good evening, Victor. I hope you don’t mind me coming by for an evening meeting. I took the liberty of ordering us dinner so you won’t be starved while we work.”

Victor pushed the door closed and gestured to the large dining table. “Please have a seat. As for starving, I am hungry but had something else in mind.”

“Your egg?” She chuckled and sat down, surprising him by not taking the seat at the head of the table but rather the one to its right.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, though, it’ll wait.”

“You won’t have to wait long. Once we go over a few things, I’ll have much to occupy me as I prepare for the next challenge.”

Victor thought it would be weird to choose a seat other than the head of the table, but he hoped he wasn’t sending the wrong message. He hoped it wasn’t a trap. He chuckled under his breath at that thought—how strange politics were! Before he’d been summoned to Fanwath, could he ever have imagined that he’d be worrying about the implications of taking the wrong seat at a table?

Kynna lifted her crown off and set it on the table to her left, but she tapped a nail against it, creating her privacy barrier before she turned to Victor. “It grows heavier and heavier throughout the day.”

Again, Victor wondered at the double meaning of her words. Was she being literal, or was she demonstrating that she understood the weight of ruling over people? He decided to play it neutrally. “I can imagine.”

“Do you want to talk about your time with the Haveshi family?”

“Well, I learned that you happen to be good friends with their matriarch.”

“I am—I was. We haven’t spoken much in recent years. Still, I don’t believe she or her sons were pleased with how King Groff was treating Gloria.”

“They’re very eager to continue their service to the duchy. I was intent on removing them from the palace and their official duties, at least at first, but after our meeting, I’m starting to think I could use their help and loyalty. How do you feel about it?” Victor didn’t want to ask for advice openly, but he supposed a little humility might serve him well.

“Tyla knows that the star of her family has fallen. They could be stripped and banished, forced to start over in a new world. If we sent them to another high-tier world, they’d be paupers, and if we sent them to a frontier world, they’d have to fight for their position, and then, if they rose to power, they’d be ruling over a backwater. I believe that Tyla is grateful we’re not doing that to them. My agents took their dimensional containers when they rounded them up, but we have them set aside. If you agree, I believe you could win much favor with them if you return all or most of their personal belongings.”

“Do I need to earn favor with them?”

“Perhaps that’s the wrong term—loyalty might fit better. As for whether or not you need them...” Kynna paused and stroked her sharp, elegant jawline for a moment. “Iron Mountain is not a trivial duchy to rule. It’s enormously rich and influential, and there are a million moving parts to the industries here. You could find commoners familiar with the workings of the mines, the orchards, and the ports, but loyalty among them will be just as questionable as you might find the Haveshi’s.”

“So, you think I should just trust Draj and let him continue to operate things?”

“I wouldn’t precisely trust him, but you could certainly use him. Your problem, Victor, is that you’re alone on Ruhn.” She held up a hand and shook her head. “No, I don’t mean that you don’t have me or your loyal guardian outside that door, but you don’t have a network of people you know and trust. You have to put some faith in people; sometimes, it will bite you, and sometimes, it will reveal new allies.”

“Yeah, but is it smart to trust the people whom I’ve displaced?”

“Again, I caution you not to think in those terms. These people are alive at our mercy. They’re still allowed to live here at yours. Many rulers of the kingdoms of Ruhn would have had every one of them relieved of their heads by now.”

Victor sighed and waved a hand. “All right. I understand your point. Let me ask you something else, though. If the veil walkers ensure that people follow the laws of warfare on Ruhn, why are assassins sanctioned? Why didn’t they intervene when Thorn tried to take your life and captured your son?”

“The veil walkers who remain on Ruhn are concerned with the small folk. The rules for warfare and the resulting duels are meant to protect the commoners of Ruhn from the whims, schemes, and ambitions of the nobility. They care not if my rivals slay me and mine in our sleep.”

“Yeah,” Victor sighed, “I guess Dar kind of touched on that with me. It’s wild to see it in action, though.” Victor pointed to the blue dome surrounding his dining table. “You think you’re safe here?”

“No, not safe, but safer. My coming here will throw any traitors’ schemes into disarray.”

“Traitors meaning people in Gloria.” Victor nodded, understanding how moving her court away from the capital in the wake of his destruction might thwart other immediate plots to dethrone her.

“Yes. As for schemes, Victor, we have our own to consider.” She smiled wryly, shifting in her seat to look at him more directly. “I believe I can create a plausible connection between Thorn and the kingdom of Bandia.”

Victor frowned, trying to picture the complex map of Ruhn in his mind. “Can you remind me—”

He didn’t have to wonder long. “What motivates you, Victor?”

He decided to be straight with her for once. “It’s funny you ask ‘cause I reflected on that earlier while we ate.” Kynna’s eyebrows arched, and she leaned forward but didn’t speak, so Victor continued. “I feel excited at the prospect of fighting these champions of the great houses. I love the energy of a crowd, and I love to fight, but I also love to beat the shit out of pendejos who think they’re better than everyone else. Yeah,” he nodded and smiled, “I’d say that motivates me pretty well.”

“I think I’m beginning to understand why my ancestor sent you to us. The members of my Queen’s Guard were impressed by you—enough to speak about you in hushed voices, afraid they’d incite your wrath. Your loyal protector, Guardswoman Bryn, refuses to speak about what she saw when you and Thorn brought the palace down around you. Such loyalty given so quickly isn’t something I’ve ever seen before. I know the people I brought here are loyal to me, but that’s after decades of building relationships. She must see something great in you, and I must confess that I’m starting to see it, too.”

“Ahem,” Victor shifted uncomfortably. “Look, Queen Kynna—”

“You may call me Kynna when we’re alone, Victor.” Again, she reached over the table to grasp his wrist, her touch tender, and Victor wondered if he was receiving mixed signals or if she was coming on to him. He didn’t know how to react, but one thing was sure: he wasn’t looking for that kind of relationship just then, especially not with a queen he was supposed to be working for. He held still, though, and didn’t pull away, waiting to see if he was overreacting or reading the situation wrong.

“Okay, well, Kynna, I don’t try to build loyalty with people. I’m just myself, and if that inspires loyalty, then I’m not going to complain. Bryn’s a smart, capable woman, and I think we shared a moment there in the garden when she almost died. I think she knows I witnessed her coming face to face with death, and that created a connection between us. That’s all it is.”

Kynna smiled, gently squeezing his wrist before letting go. “You’re an interesting man, Victor. I looked into death’s eyes in that garden, too, you know. I’m very grateful that you were there. Tell me, how many times have you stared into the abyss?”

Victor exhaled slowly, feeling his heart begin to beat normally again as she leaned away from him and folded her napkin, placing it on the table. “A few times, I guess.”

She nodded, staring at him for another long, awkward moment before saying, “This was a lovely evening, and I think a productive one, too. I’ll speak to you after you consume your treasure, yes?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“In the meantime, we’ll get things in order here in the duchy, and I’ll prepare Florent for his new assignment with you.”

As she stood, Victor followed suit, escorting her to the door. “Thank you, Kynna. It was nice to get to know you a little.”

“I feel the same.” She smiled, and then, as he opened the door, she stepped into the guardroom, where her attendants waited to follow her into the elevator.

When she was gone, Victor looked at Bryn and exhaled noisily. “Sheesh! That was a stressful dinner.”

“The food looked good.”

“You saw that?”

“Well, they had to bring it through the door...”

“All right, get in there. There are plenty of leftovers. Let’s have a drink and look out over my dominion from the balcony. What do you say?”

“Well, I’m on duty...” She laughed and turned to push Victor’s door open. “I think one drink will be fine, considering you’re the duke.”

“Yeah, just one, though, ‘cause I have an egg to eat.”

Bryn laughed and lifted her helmet off, walking over to the table where the platters of food waited. “I can’t believe you haven’t eaten that thing yet. I wouldn’t have made it two steps off the stage before stuffing it into my mouth.”

“Oh yeah?” Victor chuckled as he walked over to the fully stocked bar in his parlor. “Remind me to keep my treasures hidden from you.”

“Of course, milord.” Bryn grinned, slicing a thick cut of something like a roasted duck.

Victor poured their drinks and carried them out to the balcony, where he did just as he’d said he would—observed his domain. The countryside was dark, but up on the mountain, he saw the faint, amber lights of the mines—tiny glowing dots on the vast, dark slopes. Looking the other way, he saw the city's lights. He contemplated the thousands and thousands of people living there. How strange to think that he was responsible for them all! “Strange and sobering,” he sighed, sipping his dark, spiced liquor.

“Does it weigh on you?” Bryn asked, coming to stand beside him with her plate of food.

He passed her the drink he’d poured for her and shrugged. “Yeah. It does, but I know what I’m good at, and I’ll keep working on that. There are people here who can help with all this.” He nodded toward the city.

“It’s a wise leader who knows when to delegate.”

Victor snorted, taking another sip. “That a lesson one of your captains taught you?”

She laughed and elbowed him. “How’d you know?”

“Eh, it reminded me of something a friend of mine would say; she was always quoting things from her time in the military. You’d like her, I think.” Victor sighed happily, pleased with how the night went and even more pleased with how the future was shaping up. He and Bryn stood together, enjoying each other’s company but not needing to speak much. Victor mulled over thoughts of old friends and watched the city, and she ate, often grunting in pleasure as she sampled something particularly tasty.

When she was done eating, and they’d finished their drink, Victor walked her to the door and said, “I’ll probably be out for a while. Don’t let anyone in here.”

“I won’t, milord.”

“Goodnight, then.” He pressed the door closed with a solid click. He threw the bolt home, locking it solidly, then went around the apartment, locking all the windows and the balcony doors—it was time to consume his treasure.