Grand Game 420: A Matter of Conscience (Patreon)

Once we were seated, Lorn gestured to Regus. “Begin, please.”

His mien serious, the possessed took his time responding. “Things in the court have not panned out the way we hoped.”

I sat up straighter. “What does that mean?”

“You already know about Castor,” Regus said. “After his—”

I slashed my hand down. “I only know that Castor was still in the city when I arrived here. What I don’t know is why that was the case.” I pinned Regus with a severe look. “Why did Farren allow him to stay?”

The possessed sighed. “The archlich didn’t,” he replied simply. “Even before Adriel arrived with her report on your meeting with Draven, Farren sent a messenger to New Haven, instructing Castor and all his people to return.”

“I’m guessing Castor refused,” I said.

Regus barked a laugh. “He didn’t just refuse. He sent the messenger’s head back in a box—which I suppose was a message all on its own.”

I pursed my lips. So, Castor had rebelled. “That doesn’t explain why Farren sent you.”

“I was getting to that,” Regus said irritably. “Castor’s foolish gambit drew attention, as did Farren’s response admittedly.”

Lorn’s eyes narrowed. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning,” Regus expounded, “that the initial group the archlich dispatched didn’t just have orders to kill Castor, they were also instructed to burn the bodies—” he shot me a pointed look—“and to crush their finger bones.”

“Finger bones?” Gamil asked blankly. “Forgive me, but what’s so important about their finger bones?”

His expression closed, Regus didn’t answer.

I frowned, recalling Adriel’s words from what was only a week ago but seemed much longer. “The possessed’s spirits have never fully separated from their original bodies,” I said slowly. “Each of them carries a remnant of their former selves in their new bodies—a finger bone to be precise.”

“Destroy the bone, and you destroy the possessed?” Elron—always a quick one—guessed.

I nodded.

“What?” Stormhammer asked, astonished. “You mean to say that all this time all we needed to do to destroy the possessed was to burn their blasted bones? And that would have gotten rid of them forever?”

Once more, I nodded mutely. With everything else going on, I’d forgotten about this seemingly arbitrary piece of lore Adriel had imparted until reminded by Regus’ words. But I was only too glad to share the information with the council. It would give them some measure of power over the possessed.

A bargaining chip if they ever needed one.

I glanced at Regus. His face was contorted unhappily. He hadn’t liked that I’d spilled the possessed’s secrets, but he hadn’t tried to stop me either, I noted.

Seeing my look, Regus said, “Don’t worry. I took care of it.”

“Took care of what?” Gamil asked, looking confused again.

“On our way through the tunnel complex, my men and I gathered the possessed bodies and destroyed every last finger bone,” Regus answered. “Castor is gone for good.”

Involuntary sighs of relief escaped from both Lorn and Stormhammer.

“You mentioned an ‘initial group’ earlier,” I said, guiding the conversation back on track. “That implies yours wasn’t the only group sent to deal with Castor. What happened to the first one?”

“They never left. They refused the archlich’s orders,” Regus stated bluntly.

I stared at him.

“Inconceivable, I know,” he said, “but if there is one thing every possessed fears, it’s final death. That Farren was willing to inflict such on any possessed—even ones of Castor’s caliber—did not sit well with the others.”

“He miscalculated,” Elron said.

“Badly,” Regus agreed.

“So where does that leave us?” Gamil asked.

“The court is… unsettled,” Regus admitted. “No one dares to openly defy the archlich, but some are not above resisting passively. They’re not actively moving against Farren, but they are refusing to comply with his orders.”

“Some?” I repeated sharply. “That’s vague, Regus. Define some.”

The possessed winced. “A significant some then. Less than half the court has sided with the archlich.” He hesitated.

“What else?” I demanded.

“There is a more rebellious group, too,” he replied reluctantly.

The picture Regus was painting grew worse with every utterance. “And what are they doing?” I asked tiredly.

“This small group has been sabotaging the court’s defenses and killing off the archlich’s supporters whenever they can,” he said.

I gestured to his new body. “Did they get you too?”

“Yes,” he replied curtly.

“What has the archlich’s response been?” Elron asked.

“Farren has killed the five rebels we caught in retaliation but has stopped short of dealing final death to them,” Regus said. “He has refused rehoming any of their spirits, though. Unfortunately, that has not deterred the rest, and matters remain tense.”

“Which brings us to you,” I said quietly.

Regus nodded. “Farren dispatched me to take care of Castor because there was no one else he could trust to deal with the problem.”

“Where’s Adriel in all this?” I asked.

“She is at the court in a new golem body and is doing her best to help Farren maintain order,” he replied. “But Adriel was never well-liked to begin with, and she can no more fix the problem than Farren can.”

“I see.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “And is that sum of it?”

“There is one other thing,” Regus said, appearing even more reluctant to speak now.

I closed my eyes, striving for patience. “Go on.”

“The archlich’s new decrees have not gone down well,” Regus said.

“What decrees?” Lorn asked.

“The one pertaining to New Haven’s players,” he replied quietly. “Many disagree.”

My eyes snapped open. “Explain.”

“There is a, uhm, feeling that the archlich’s provision banning the harvesting of New Havener players is overly… generous,” Regus said delicately. “Most possessed agree that the way Loskin ended up treating New Haven was wrong, but they also believe the city would not exist without the efforts expended by the possessed on its behalf.”

I spread my hands flat across the table, fearing that if I didn’t, I would do something rash.

Eyeing me carefully, Regus continued, “These possessed believe New Haven should continue to pay in, uhm, bodies for what the possessed have done for it.”

A growl began to rise at the back of my throat.

“In short,” Regus said, finishing in a rush, “they want to reinstate the original agreement between New Haven and the court. They propose the underground tunnel be reopened, allowing those who want to leave to do so. Those that remain, though, must continue to pay the price.”

A hush descended on the room.

“So, again, where does that leave us?” Gamil asked finally.

“With things in a mess,” I snarled. Bowing my head, I rested my forehead on the table. The others waited for me to go on, but I was too incensed to do so.

After a while, Regus and the councilors resumed talking amongst themselves. My thoughts far away, I let their words flow unheeded over me.

“The damned possessed,” I muttered under my breath. “Again.” They were a thorn I’d ignored for too long, and now it seemed I was paying for my apathy. In my defense, though, I’d been expecting the lichs to take care of the problem.

It was Adriel and Farren’s responsibility, I had told myself. The possessed were of their making. It was their duty to fix things. Not mine.

I was wrong.

I was a scion. Perhaps the only scion.

And it was my duty to protect the Pack.

I don’t know when I had begun thinking of New Haven as Pack, but all unknowing, the notion had crept up on me. Maybe it had begun when I’d first entered the city, or when Elron had helped me, or when I’d learned of the city’s suffering at the hands of the possessed, or maybe it was when I’d taken on my apprentice. I wasn’t sure. But I was certain the New Haveners were Pack and that I needed to do whatever was necessary to protect them.

There was more to it, though.

The possessed had committed vile deeds, both collectively and as individuals. This was uncontested fact. I had stopped myself from contemplating too hard what that meant, though, and had left it to my allies, Farren and Adriel, to set things right.

I knew Adriel’s own past was black, and I’d wrestled with the idea of allying with her when I’d first accepted her help. She, though, had resolved to make restitution. She, though, sought redemption.

But what of the others?

I’d not questioned what price the possessed should pay for their crimes—not as a group or as individuals—nor had I considered if any of them actually regretted the dark choices that they’d made.

Truly, how many of the thousand-odd possessed in Farren’s court were eager to redeem themselves? If Castor and Regus’ tale were any example, the answer seemed glaringly obvious.

Not enough.

My mouth twisted sourly. There has to be a reckoning.

The possessed had to be brought in line, or history would repeat itself in New Haven. And if not here, then elsewhere once the possessed left the dungeon.

And I could not let that happen, I realized.

I couldn’t allow the possessed to go their own way or remain unbound. They were a danger to everyone, and it was up to me to deal with the problem.

I raised my head. I knew what needed to be done.

“I will take care of the possessed,” I said loudly, cutting across the other’s chatter.

All eyes turned to me.

“Take care of how?” Elron asked warily.

“I have a plan,” I said, waving aside his question. I turned to Regus. “I need you to dispatch a messenger to Farren.”

The possessed’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t question my right to give him orders. “Go on.”

“Tell Farren what’s happened here. Tell him he is to lockdown the court. No possessed are to be allowed to leave, either through the exit portal or into the dungeon at large. Understood?”

Regus studied me expressionlessly for a second, then nodded slowly. “I will do as you wish.”

“Also, ask Adriel to meet me at the guardian.” I would need her help and expertise if what I planned had any hope of succeeding.

“Alright,” Regus agreed.

“Good.” I turned to Elron. “How soon can Algar and the five companies be ready to march?”

He pursed his lips but did not ask where I planned on sending them. “They began mustering this morning, and their kits and baggage trains have already been allocated. My best guess? The men will be ready tomorrow morning.”

My lips turned down. Tonight would’ve been better, but there was no helping it. “Then they are to march through the underground tunnel as soon as they’re ready. I will give Algar his orders myself.”

Lorn glanced at Elron, but seeing that the First was not going to question me, he addressed me himself, “That tunnel leads to only one place: the archlich’s court. What do you intend your soldiers to do when they get there?”

I didn’t answer.

“Surely you don’t plan on throwing them against the possessed?” Gamil asked, aghast.

I shook my head. “I don’t. but I do expect them to blockade the tunnel and stop any of the possessed venturing into New Haven in the event that Farren’s people disobey his orders.” I glanced at Regus. “They will have help, though.”

“Meaning me?” the possessed asked.

“Meaning you,” I agreed. “You and your men will support Algar. Under no circumstances will you allow any possessed to get past you and enter the city.”

“What do you intend on doing?” Regus asked worriedly.

“I intend on taking care of the problem of the possessed once and for all. One way or the other, by the time I’m done, there will be no more possessed.”