In Whom We Trust

The windows of the study of Belldonnar Keep had been bricked up thirty years ago at Count Belldonnar’s orders. It was not because the young Count hated the light, or the view.

No, when Count Belldonnar’s father committed suicide after the death of Countess Belldonnar in childbirth and the death of their newborn daughter, ending the line of Countesses, Damien Belldonnar did not turn to darkness, or hate the light. Light is all Damien ever sought. The Light of Truth. At the age of seventeen Damian was set to graduate from the Imperial Academy, but he was away in the Academy when an agent poisoned the Countess, which also poisoned her unborn daughter. Damien hadn’t made it home in time to stop his father from the unthinkable.

His father had always been a weak man. Unworthy of his brilliant and logical mother. She had married Bartholomew White, for political reasons. Not for love. Never for love. One only had to read the stars, and divine the plans of the Weavers. It was an ancient art, an ancient science. His mother had taught him this. She had made a mistake, though, and married the wrong sibling. She must have. His father was unworthy.

Bart had loved Astara Belldonnar from the moment he laid eyes on her. With her gone his soul was empty. In a moment of weakness he sought death over revenge, or justice. Damien would never forgive his father for that weakness. The Windows were bricked up at Damien’s order. The new Count at age seventeen. Top of his class. A brilliant young mind. They all said so.

Windows were a weakness. The weakest link in the chain of a building. Spies could use them to see in. windows were not to be trusted. That was the reason the Count had the windows of his study walled up. Then the Count began to layer spells on his study. His study needed to be the most secure sanctuary for his plans for justice.

Eventually Count Belldonnar found the assassin. It took ten years. Ten years of planning, investigating, infiltrating. What you didn’t know could kill you. Most Nobles knew nothing of the dark underworld that truly ruled the fate of all. To catch a criminal, you had to think like a criminal. To think like a criminal you had to become a criminal. How could you possibly understand something if you never experienced it?

Damien knew all to well, the price to be paid by ignoring the underworld. Not only would Damien understand it, he would conquer it. Control it. Rule it. It was the only way. The only way to protect his mother’s legacy. He would read the stars and the wills of The Spinners. He wouldn’t make the mistakes his mother did. He would find the right spouse, and use all at his disposal to make her his. Nobles had secrets. Often nobles made use of the underworld, but none understood it.

Even the underworld didn’t understand it. Oh, a few did. They controlled the underworld. He would do that. He spent years, watching, studying, learning. He used his knowledge of the Nobles, their secrets, their crimes, and secured his bride. He treated her well. She did not love him, but she could not complain. The Count acquired a great deal of wealth with the knowledge he’d obtained. Wealth was one facet of power. Knowledge was another. Patience was the greatest facet of power. Belldonnar had patience. Belldonnar wielded real power. Power far beyond his rank.

Now, a young, half-blood, orphan of a dragon was threatening the entire Fabrik. He could not allow this. She was not the child of the true prophecy! He had studied it. For more than two decades he had studied it. He was certain she was a false prophecy. The fraud needed to die, and her entire brood with her. All his efforts so far had failed. He had underestimated her friends. The half-blood and Queen Matilde had managed to hide vital knowledge about those five.

That gap in his knowledge had cost him. It was not a mistake, but it felt like one. Belldonnar was sitting in his study with a single blue-white magik flame lamp reading the letter for the third time.

The nursery island currently holds six children and two eggs. The Empress is carrying three. Delivery likely in a month. The children are nursed predawn, noon, and dusk, by the Empress when resident. There are nine eggs belonging to the three resident nursemaid dragonkin. Guards: twenty-seven dragonkin and seven dragons on one rotation. Shielded by an artifact made by the Empress. I could not read it.

“You could not read it,” Belldonnar murmured. “Were you stupid enough to think you could?”

Standing in front of the desk, the man who delivered the letter, shifted uncomfortably. Captain Ruaidh Fitzhugh was a Barbosan Pirate and Prittoni slavetrader. He had sense enough not to speak.

“Tell me what you saw,” Belldonnar said.

“The Island, my Lord. From a retrofitted skiff, ten kilometers out, with a spyglass. It floats outside the city, like they say. It stays within the extended shielding outside the city shield. It is wrapped in its own shielding, like a cocoon. Unlike the other floating Islands, it is not anchored. Dragons sleep on the rim. Dragonkin circle it. Darklings patrol the entirety.” Fitzhugh ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ve destroyed fleets, ridden across the Great Mawr, burned Harbors, I’ll say it plainly. I’d sooner raid the Church Holy City than go near that thing. They don’t even attempt to hide the power on it.”

“It is their arrogance they display. Arrogance breeds carelessness. Arrogance unlocks many doors. One needs only discover which doors, and who has the keys.”

“And you have learned which?”

“Not yet.” the Count said in a mild tone. “But that arrogant fool is building an Academy. And Academies need teachers and supporting staff.”

Then he opened a thick ledger to a marked page. It said simply, “Academy”. Under it were names of people and a blurb. Every blurb attempted to answer four things: what do they love, what do they fear, what do they owe, and what do they feel they deserve?

The ledger was just one of many. Over the years he had created many ledgers to plot and plan his own unique brand of justice. Belldonnar collected this information on any person in the area of his focus who had any connection, or possible connection that he could potentially exploit. His process was methodical and patient and thorough.

“A nursery needs supplies, and supplies mean workers. Find some people we can control, who are far enough removed, and get them the opportunity to find their way into service there, in places that help us get close enough to strike. I need many seeds to care for.”

Stolen story; please report.

“Yes, my Lord. I am confused, though. Why destroy what could be a very profitable location? Is she not the prophesied one?” Captain Fitzhugh asked.

“Have you read the prophecy? The actual prophecy, not the children’s tale?”

“I know there is one.”

“Then allow me to tell you, in substance. I have read the old prophecy and studied it for more than thirty years. Even the scholars who have never agreed on the details, agreed on one. The prophecy speaks of a dragon, not a dragonkin. A dragon, which can only mean a full-blooded dragon.”

“And the Empress is the dragon?”

“Is she? The Empress is a half-blood. Even among dragons half-bloods are considered dragonkin. Yes, she is powerful. Perhaps the most powerful dragonkin to have ever existed. Imagine what power a full dragon of her potential would be like.”

“So you will kill the counterfeit.”

“I must till the land to prepare for the one that will come. Now, go. I want you to do three things. First, plant my seeds, and leave no threads. Second, I want the name and habits of every guard on that Island. I don’t care about their rank. Their habits. Which ones drink. Which ones gamble. Which ones are lonely. Which ones are leading a double life.”

“And the third thing?”

“The third is patience. The Empress has survived numerous assassination attempts before. Her people are good. She has surrounded herself with the best, the brightest, the most powerful beings. If we strike too early, we may lose our only chance. So we do not strike. We grow something. In her own garden. Under her own care. Nourished by her own trust. Until one day, when she walks onto her island, our garden will reduce her and her brood to ash. Thus clearing the land for the true prophecy.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Fitzhugh said as he bowed, then he turned and left quietly, and unseen.

A shadow flickered behind the Count.

“Keep a shadow on him. Do not let him expose me carelessly, or intentionally.”

“As you wish, my Liege,” whispered the shadow before it disappeared.

“Nothing personal, Empress, but you are not the chosen one. No, getting personal would require emotion. Emotions leave traceable evidence. Evidence left is carelessness.”

Belldonnar went back to his ledger. He needed to began again, at the top, and methodically checked off the names.

“A professor.”

A professor is an obvious choice. They are people of power. Power corrupts. Yet, over and over, people ignore this axiom, and trust professors. But they are easily discovered. Still, if nothing else, it can be a diversion. He copied the name down on a fresh sheet of paper.

A nursery on an island needs staff: groundskeepers, kitchen workers, laundry workers, healers. No one looks twice at the laundry worker. Kitchen workers carry their own risks, and yet time and time again, arrogant people let slip their guard, and many a noble is still downed by the poisoned meal. Healers are almost invisible. No one fears the healer who sets their children’s broken bones.

Belldonnar copied down two more names on fresh sheets of paper. Patience. Plant the seeds. Some will grow. Some will wither, and die.

A shadow moved outside the residence of Belldonnar, and followed the shadow following Captain Ruaidh Fitzhugh, pirate and slaver.

“What are you up to, Belldonnar. You have been too careless. A known pirate visiting your estate. And you have even your trusted people shadowed? Why have you put a shadow on your shadowy aides? In whom do you put your trust? Perhaps, I should ask your shadows? You have done well, Kage. Keep your shadows watching him. He is arrogant, and thinks himself invulnerable. Arrogance breeds carelessness,” Kiera said.

“Yes, my Lady,” Kage said, from the shadows.

Kiera left, and followed the next servant to leave the Count’s estate.

“Will this one be another dead end? Or has Belldonnar finally begun his next campaign? Patience. I will catch you in my web with patience. You will not escape justice. I will set as many webs as it takes, Belldonnar. You have shut yourself off from your emotions, thinking it makes you strong. But, it only makes you weaker. This is personal. The proper use of emotions makes one stronger. That is the flaw that so many who have fallen into darkness make. You will not escape me. I will make you face your crimes. One way, or another,” Kiera said to herself.

A week later, Kiera returned to Shin Shirochi.

“Belldonnar is on the move. He is planting seeds among our incoming workers. From Talshin, to Crispenwell, to Prittoni, to Dargon. He is attacking us from every angle he can. We need to deep dive on every candidate. I am building a list of all the people I can tie to him in one way or another. This is what we have so far, Dee,” Kiera said.

“Marvelous, Kiera! This will be very helpful,” Deirdre said.

The next day, in Deirdre’s morning meeting.

“Good news, Dee, the teleportation circle to the front gate of Shangrí has been completed. We have been unable to speed up carriages in through the open door to less than two and a half hours, though,” Cathar said.

“Well, then we’ll just have to include some entertainment, and a snack, during the trip. That shouldn’t be too bad of a trip,” Deirdre said.

“Rosie has returned from the Dwarven Realm. She should be joining shortly. She has brought a lot of dwarves with her. They are currently getting settled in.” Darby said.

The meeting continued until Rosie came in, and she said,

“The Queen has given us all the dwarves we need, and all it cost us was four children!”

“WHAT! We don’t sell children!” Selene said.

“No we didn’t sell any children. She gave me four children. Or rather, her son Prince Rekhin, my husband, did. So in ninth months, I’m going to have four children!” Rosie said.

“O! M! G! Congratulations, Rosie! Damn girl you are super fertile!” Kanae said.

Deirdre, rubbed her temples, shook her head, and said, “Rosie. First congratulations on your marriage and pregnancy. Second, look into your memory about dwarven pregnancy. Especially about gestation length.”

“What? Ok, um … OMG! No way! 115 to 130 days! Four months! Holy shit! That’s Crazy! Wait! That means I could get pregnant maybe three times a year, for hundreds of years! Don’t you even think about trying that! I will kill you! Rekh!” Rosie said.

Rekh snapped to attention and said, “Yes, my Queen!”

“Oh, Rosie’s got someone under her thumb. Way to go girl!” Kiera said.

“Oh, it’s not like that. We’re a partnership. Oh, and Sandy is his second wife, and she’s having three babies.”

“Oh, yes, and um, my wedding resulted in getting outed as a Mithril Dwarf. You’ll all be hearing about that soon, so I thought I’d give those that didn’t know a heads-up. Oh, and um, well, you’ll probably hear about this too, so don’t freak out. But, well, the Goddess of War kind of dropped in on my marriage feast and gave us some wedding gifts, and popped out.”

“OMG! What an epic wedding! Come on, spill the whole story! You can’t just drop a line like that and dismiss it! Give a proper damn report, Start at the beginning!” Aoi said.

So, Rosie, recalled the whole story, leaving out a few of the more personal details. That took up the rest of the day’s meeting. So, they decided to call it a day, and went to the White Dragon Pub and had another Wedding Feast for Rosie, Sandy, and Rekhin.

Two days later, Rosie loaded up a pair of airships with dwarves and other workers and flew under a military escort to Marquise Morgaíne’s estate, and the work on the new port city, Soraminato, began. Many would simply call it Sky Harbor, putting the name into the common tongue. The escort remained to defend the workers and the construction site.

Naturally, some of the Marquise’s partners and associates saw opportunity, and the first buildings to go up were an inn and a pub. The pub called itself the Flying Bark, and the inn went with the Cloud Rest Inn. The city grew from there, and continued with the tongue-in-cheek naming patterns.

Meanwhile, Duchess Nanami wasn’t holding back either. She had sent her best team of artisans to Aoi’s workshop. She arranged to have Aoi make engines for her to send to her existing shipyard, and Aoi sent a few assistants to train the shipyard workers how to install them. She also introduced Aoi to a merchant interested in building ships for her Prittoni based fleet. She got the first Imperial contract. The merchant of course was one of Nanami’s associates. So this was part of her plan of building her fleet, with her partners, associates and nobles. Which was exactly what Deirdre and crew wanted.