I’ve never eaten a bitter almond, but the bad did smell ‘almond-y’ and there was a bitter, acrid tang to it and if I was mailing Truso a large sack full of what felt like powder…

  “It's cyanide, isn’t it?”

  “You haven’t even opened the letter, my Lord!” Othai protested.

  “It’s encrypted.”

  “How do you-”

  I opened the letter. It was encrypted. I showed it to Othai. “Can you read that?”

  She shook her head firmly. “Not without the code book, my Lord. And Truso would have it on him at all times.”

  “I don’t like Truso, but that’s because he’s a jerk, not because he’s stupid. And Genuda wouldn’t have the mini-kingdom it’s got if they were stupid. This isn’t as straightforward as it looks.”

  The wagons full of civilians were rolling north towards Verton. All perfectly safe and sound, moving along a nice, safe, road. This had been a one-sided slaughter so far, and I aimed to keep it that way.

  “At the moment, it looks like Genuda is planning on dumping a big sack of cyanide into the Verton city cistern, obliterating their ability to withstand a siege and quite possibly killing most, or many, of the locals in the process. This would allow Ko’Ras to roll in with almost zero effective opposition. Presumably the Council had been promised… I don’t know. That they and their property would be spared and maybe even made kings of all the little states around them that didn’t know their place for all these years.”

  “My Lord.” Othai ground those two words out, but I waved her down.

  “You, the Mikas, the Doras, all of you have a hatred of traitors so deep, it’s almost beyond words. It’s the Genudan national trait. I have to figure the other mercenaries here would look at this discovery and not react calmly.”

  “Correct.” Glassy, sharp, her voice was brittle but hadn't broken.

  “Yeah, here’s the thing, though. I have watched Detective Conan. This level of game playing… too childish. I was bored of it years ago.” I snorted.

  That got everybody to pull up with a jerk. “Tower Master? I don’t follow.” Versai frowned. Then she slapped her hand to her forehead. “No, I take it back, I do follow. I saw a baron try to set up a count with a similar trick. I had to kill his champion and then shove the fattie into a gibbet for display. Nasty work. Hate gibbets.”

  “My Lord? I don’t follow.” Othai’s voice was still brittle, but this time it was more… hopeful?

  “Does the phrase ‘chain of custody’ mean anything to you?”

  “Not really, my Lord.”

  “This chest is identifiable as a Genudian diplomatic pouch because of the seal on it.”

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  “The lead seal, still sealed in place.”

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  “A seal that someone could copy with, picking an example at random here, a bit of plaster or a goddamn potato.”

  There was some quiet at that.

  “And I don’t mean to cast aspersions on the excellent character and noble mind of our dear friend Mr. Bacciato, but I do believe that some of his associates are less than completely compliant with the letter of the law.”

  That got me some blank looks. “If you must have crime, it might as well be organized, right? Much tidier and easier to manage that way.”

  More blank looks.

  “He runs a thrice damned criminal syndicate and could easily have a mold made of the actual seal and cast a new seal which would make fabricating the diplomatic seal on the chest cartoonishly easy and we have no way to verify the origin of the chest, its contents or the contents of the encrypted letter because the only person with the code book is our primary suspect! And merely accusing him or trying to obtain the code book would instantly collapse Verton’s defenses! Would you please work with me while I am trying to have a parlor scene? I don’t think it’s too much to ask! Thank you!”

  I stomped off. The parlor scene is a classic. A genuine classic! How can everyone know how brilliant the detective is if they don’t gather in the parlor and “Ooh” and “Ahh!” as he reveals the truth? I’m not an unreasonable man. I’m not looking for an ‘egads!’ Just a few ‘but that’s impossible!” or “How could that be?” Something to keep the rhythm going. Some sense of people contributing.

  You can be the best cook in the world, but that doesn’t mean you want to cook everything by yourself. It takes a team. And the teamwork here was nonexistent.

  This never happened to Detective Conan.

  I let my breath trickle out. Just existed in the sulk for a minute. I knew we couldn’t hang around long- we needed to get to that fort. An invasion to stop, all that good stuff. It’s just been a lot. This whole Verton relic site, and the twin one over by Wastet. It’s been a whole lot. And now we have this kind of thing.

  It was so insane to me. So death-seeking, or if not death seeking than the logic of absolute and total despair. There cannot be any peace living under the monsters. None. Does not exist. But again and again and again, people line up to betray humanity. Hell, they’re coming with pitch decks!

  “I’m Richard Traitorio, and for just my life and my enemy’s land, you can butcher and eat everyone I ever had a shred of loyalty to! Throw in a neat hat and a field overseer role, and I can raise my offer to include a selection of seasonings suitable for children of all ages. Now as we go to slide number one, “List of Fears,” we can see that-”

  I shook my head hard and shoved off the wall. We had endless time. I would just have to patiently educate my Awakened on all the culture they missed out on. I am sure they will appreciate the opportunity to sit quietly and listen to me explain the goings on in all thirty-odd seasons of Detective Conan. It will be very enriching for them.

  “Alright, you guys are forgiven for now. Onwards to the next village.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  We cleared the next few villages with minimal drama. We weren’t getting all of Mr. Bacciato’s packages on this route, but I wasn’t particularly concerned about that. One, because he may well have set me up, and two, if he didn’t, then he was a patsy and shouldn’t be trusted any further than I could kick him. And I didn’t like my chances kicking him.

  We rushed to the village by the riverside, cleared it, and immediately started looking for ways to fort up. My first thought was a rerun of the strategy we used at the village where we found the incriminating chest, but I quickly ruled it out. The layout of the town was too hard to defend, and we didn’t want to be fighting a street battle in the first place. The riverbank ran high just below the village, and there was a bit of a dip behind it. It would give my troops about six feet of elevation from the river. More than adequate.

  And just to prevent any funny business, I put Radz two hundred yards back, in the middle of a small formation of crossbows and pikes. Anything trying to get to her had better also be artillery, or they were in for a really bad time. As for the rest, I put Othai in command, with me in overall command. I figured this wouldn’t eat an order, as I was right here, ‘directing.’ Naturally, Versai was right next to me, bodyguarding.

  Wouldn’t be the strangest thing if they tried to assassinate me. It would only be strange if they didn’t.

  The logic for turning over command to Othai was straightforward- she knew these troops better than I did, and she knew this river better than I did and she for sure knew this scenario better than I did. She might not be able to tell me what was going to happen, but I was betting she could act on it within certain rules. Rules like “lead the mercenary Genudian Troops under the supervision of the Tower Master in a place and time of his choosing.”

  Put like that, and it’s almost like she’s not deciding anything at all. Fingers crossed the game interpreted things that way, anyway.

  To my surprise, she didn’t have the troops line the riverbank. Instead, she had the pikes fall back thirty yards, and had the crossbow troops sit on the ground about ten feet back from the ridge. I couldn’t figure it out. I tried to imagine it from the point of view of the riverboats… and it clicked. Sightlines. She was managing the sightlines.

  The pikes couldn’t be laid flat on the ground and picked up again without a fair bit of confusion and organization. Better to stay in formation, but a bit further back. In easy charging distance.

  As for the crossbows- they were just going to plonk their shields into a tight wall and start shooting as soon as they got the order. Why not sit down? Five feet could be cleared in two steps, but between that and their low height, the crossbows were rendered invisible.

  The matchlocks were the most interesting one for me- she arranged them on her flank, facing the evacuated village.

  “Othai… is there something I should be doing in that village?”

  “Above my paygrade, my Lord.” Right, yes, they couldn’t tell me what to do. But that had a sort of ‘no’ inflection to it. At least, I think it did.

  So why… ah. Something will emerge or come ashore there. Probably on the docks. Or, less pleasant option than an invasion of amphibious monsters, it could be Genudian troops that are attacking us under false orders, or are simply traitors. Or that they think we are traitors.

  Such fun. I shut up and let the professional get on with it.

  She got on with it by settling down on a tree branch with a decent view of the tower Miyuki was signaling from. She had the telescope with her, and looked downright at ease. I quickly felt antsy. It didn’t feel right, letting someone else run the show. She had done that one village evacuation, but… but I knew more or less exactly what was coming then. I didn’t now. I don’t think I’m unreasonable for turning a bit controlling. The whole ‘my life is literally at stake’ thing is a powerful motivator.

  It was a gamble. I was gambling on her obsession and regrets, and the fact that the Six Star Awakened could find their own cheats. After being summoned who knows how many times, waiting who knows how long for the nightly raids, would she really never have thought to herself “If I could only go back in time!”? Of course she would have. It would have been inhuman if she didn’t.

  Well, that’s fine. In this hell game there is a medicine for regret. It’s called “Clearing the relic site.” It might not be quite the same as a time machine, but it was pretty damn close. It would have to do.

  Othai was tapping her thumb against her fingers. She looked like she was counting her joints. I wasn’t the only one stressed.

  We waited. I’m not sure how long. Othai came down from the tree and started quietly going down the line of crossbows. They arranged themselves in a kneeling checkerboard pattern, quietly loading their bolts and waiting. They hadn’t raised their shields just yet, but it was coming. Othai looked over and checked on the pikes. They passed muster and got a firm nod.

  There was the sound of something snapping and rippling, like a giant flag. I hadn’t seen any boats on the river, but there should be splashes, right? Rowboats? Like the Viking longboats or something.

  It suddenly occurred to me that the Viking ships did, in fact, have sails. The thought occurred to me right as I saw the sails through the tree branches. I don’t mind taking a hint.

  “Radz, fire on the rearmost boat, then the foremost, then fire at will at the boats.” Othai’s voice was calm and carrying.

  “Radz raining death.” There was a chumf noise, and the mortar shot upward, as sharp a rise as I had ever seen it make. The top of the arc was very short. The explosion sent water and splinters of wood flying up into the air. Wood, and bloody rags of flesh and bone.

  “NOW!”

  The pavise crossbows raised their shields and advanced at the double the two steps needed to take them to the ridge. They fired as soon as their shields were planted. Thirty seconds can feel like an eternity, but as a practical, manage-a-flotilla matter, it’s no time at all. And Radz had her firing time down to thirty seconds. The second mortar fell before the raiders even figured out where the crossbow bolts were coming from.

  “They are pinned. Prioritize anyone with a feather in their hat. I will personally apply for two days pay bonus for whoever kills a Ko’Ras priest.” Othai’s voice was calm and commanding. A cheer went up from the mercs, the only enthusiastic noise I had heard them make this whole adventure.

  There was an awful lot of shooting. And screaming. Every thirty seconds another boat exploded. It didn’t take too many minutes for the sound to stop. There were a few more twangs of crossbows, but pretty soon it went quiet.

  “Anyone claiming a bounty?”

  There was silence. Othai snorted. “At least you’re still honest. Sit and rest. This was just the warm up.”

  She walked over to where I was standing. “Six boats, call it a thousand raiders total, with a feather hat in each boat. To the extent that Hosk has a ‘best,’ these weren’t it. No armor, no helmets, even. Just spears. Mostly looking like hunting spears.”

  “God. At least it was quick, I suppose.”

  “Quicker than what they did to many, many others.”

  Right. The Hosk raiders had a reputation as utter scumbags long before Ko’Ras waded into things. No love lost there.

  “Next wave will be Wastet troops?”

  “That seems very likely, my Lord.”

  “Think they will stop when they see all the broken boats and floating corpses?”

  “That would be the logical thing to do.” We shared a look. She went back to her crossbows, not moving them an inch.

  I took another look at where we were situated. Just south of the village, along a high point of the riverbank… I checked the map, then looked further south along the river. From what I could see, we were actually on the inside of a wide bend. A nice, gentle curve that must have been quite charming to sail around, and doubtless featured in many tasteful landscape and river scenes hanging in equally tasteful homes.

  It also, by no coincidence whatsoever, blocked sight of what was happening on the other side of the curve. They could spot there was a problem from a little way off, but not that far. And by the time they did, they would be deep inside Radz effective range. Othai had thought it through carefully.

  I was right to bet on obsession. We didn’t have to wait much longer. The sails peeking through the trees were taller than the ones the Hosk raiders used. Othai let them get right on top of our position, waiting until she heard the sailors shouting about the wrecks.

  “Radz, now!”

  “Radz raining death.”

  The mortar went up, then down. This time Othai didn’t rush the crossbows forward. There was a thunder of guns from the other side of the bank. Branches fell, long splinters went flying out of trunks. They couldn’t get the angle on our soldiers. They were shooting up. Radz was dropping her mortars straight down. And thirty seconds just isn’t that long.

  It took exactly two minutes for some bright spark to start yelling “Abandon the ships! Abandon the ships!” Other voices took up the call, the panic spreading. The gunfire dropped to a few sporadic shots, then stopped.

  “Crossbows, up and fire at will. Same bounty applies this time too! Pikes, stand ready to advance!”

  Wait, was she expecting them to make it up the riverbank? If that was the case, why was she putting all her troops at the edge of the bank?

  The crossbows fired volley after volley down into the thrashing water. There were a few shots that came back our way, but to my absolute shock, they were stopped by the shields.

  “Shields can stop bullets?! Since freaking when?”

  “Since forever, my Lord.” Othai sounded pissed at being distracted from the battle. “Lead is softer than steel and pistols don’t have enough powder behind the bullet to punch through. Why do you think we carry such heavy shields?”

  “That’s fair.” I shut up. Stupid to jostle her elbow with a stupid question in the middle of a battle.

  Versai leaned over and whispered “I saw the matchlocks blowing through the wooden shields the raiders used. Went right through chainmail too. Have you ever noticed the way Mika’s shield clangs when she drops it? It must be a thick layer of tempered steel covering the wood.”

  It added up, but it was still wild to me. I swear there was something tickling my brain about this. Something about… proof marks? I couldn’t remember. It must have been from a YouTube short or something forgettable like that.

  “Front rank, loose and fall back ten paces. Second rank, hold. Wait. Loose! Fall back five paces. Maintain formation. Pikes, advance to the riverbank and hold, killing anyone who tries to scramble up.”

  She looked over at me with a bloody grin. “We killed the last one of the scum holding a firearm, and their bowstrings are wet and useless. Time to let the pikes shine.”

  This was insane. Radz was still blowing up ships in the river. This was an enormous flotilla! The only way I was able to chew it up like this was because I found an econ exploit. Trying to do this with some pitiful savings after a few waves of monsters? Impossible. That or it would require a full lineup of Six Stars, all with top notch costumes and weapons, plus relevant skills.

  That thought percolated in my head a moment, punctuated by the screams of dying men. Then I felt a stabbing pain in my own heart. It was balanced. It was perfectly balanced. You just had to stack money on the other end of the scale.