Chapter 39: Lured by the Scent of Mayhem

The Central Orthodox Church had a long history, rising to prominence far before the Tearmoon Empire and Ganudos Port Country were founded. Prior to its establishment as a formal religious order it was simply a group of people led by a prophet who could hear the words of God. They spread the teachings of the Holy Book far and wide, laying the groundwork for a common system of morals and values. They considered it one of their duties to compile the histories of nations and to leave a record of human progress for future generations. They did so because they’d been taught that their God was one who “favored mankind with His blessing, and found joy in beholding the creations of man’s labor, for He saw them as offerings to Him.” It was, therefore, an important responsibility of those who serve God to write down the histories, cultures, and systems of order crafted by man, for such records were divine tribute.

Ganudos was, of course, home to a church of the Central Orthodoxy. Located in a corner of the capital, it lacked adjoining facilities such as an orphanage, and stood as a simple structure, neither toweringly magnificent nor disappointingly undersized. In its basement archives sat Ludwig and Vanos, who’d arrived just as the afternoon sun was taking on the orange tint of evening. Their meetings with various senators earlier in the day had been less than rewarding.

“Not that I expected much, so it’s not really surprising... All right then. What next?” muttered Ludwig.

He wasn’t particularly discouraged, but their shamelessly consistent employment of the Greenmoons as a deflection had further fueled his suspicions. After greeting the local father at the church entrance, Ludwig had immediately begun digging through the archives in an attempt to unravel the history of Ganudos through its historical writings.

He leaned back and ran his hand through his hair, feeling the beginnings of a headache. His frustration was not due to a lack of relevant information. Quite the opposite, actually. He’d come by it so easily that it was dumbfounding. The information was all there sitting in plain sight, and it spelled out a history he’d had no idea about.

“The Duke of Yellowmoon had maintained friendly ties with Ganudos Port Country ever since its founding. He’d sometimes contributed his own money to further the country’s interests. Then, at some point, the Duke of Greenmoon took over his role...” He stared at the pages before him, as if confirming he’d read it correctly, then closed the history book and gazed up at the ceiling. “How could these facts have been hidden from us? The Tearmoon government isn’t aware of them, at least. Or is it just me who’s been oblivious all this time? Know that you know not, huh... My master’s words are proving themselves to be painfully prescient...”

Ludwig was no stranger to how secrets worked. The more one tried to hide them, the more they stood out, because while the contents of the secret might be made more difficult to obtain, the fact that it held important knowledge was made all the more obvious. The problem with these facts he’d just uncovered was that they weren’t secrets at all. A simple inquiry was all it took. He probably could have just asked around, had he known what to ask about.

And therein was the problem. Why hadn’t he known? Because no one had bothered to tell him. These facts had been concealed by their own insignificance, excluded from reports because they were deemed so trivial as to be unworthy of mention.

“That’s the thing. These facts... They weren’t hidden. They just seemed so inconsequential that even when someone found them out, they wouldn’t understand the importance.”

Ganudos was a small country, often considered little more than a way station on a journey across the Galilea Sea. The question of who represented the empire when negotiating with them was of little concern. Nobody would have given a second thought to a transfer of responsibilities from the Yellowmoons to the Greenmoons. Nobody, that is, until now.

Ludwig ruminated. Had it been a coincidence? Was the current arrangement the result of simple chance? That certainly seemed a possibility, at least on the surface...

“But no. I should assume there is conscious intent behind this.”

His basis...was Mia. She’d told him to investigate this matter. The princess he served, the Great Sage of the Empire, had felt that there was something here... Something important enough to send not only him but also the strongest military asset at her command, Dion Alaia, to this country. That was enough to keep Ludwig thinking. To dive deeper, looking for strands of logic, trusting that they would form a web of intrigue.

“If this situation has been deliberately created...then what might the goal be? What reasons are there to consolidate communication under the House of Greenmoon?”

The first explanation to come to mind was that the Duke of Greenmoon was a more preferable negotiation partner. In other words, he was easy to take advantage of and more likely to accept deals that favored Ganudos, so they’d rather keep him as their one and only point of contact. This certainly seemed like a possibility...

“But that would work against them if something were to happen to the Duke of Greenmoon. For example, if he was ever assassinated, dealings with the Port Country would grind to a halt. Trade would suffer. But then again...maybe that’s the plan?”

The Tearmoon Empire’s food self-sufficiency rate was low, requiring it to import large amounts from abroad. Ganudos was a significant source of these imports.

“Still, the damage that would do seems too limited in scope.”

Even if food imports from Ganudos stopped altogether, the empire wouldn’t collapse immediately. It had plenty of time to appoint a substitute. Frankly, it wasn’t impossible for the empire to cut off the Port Country entirely from its trade network and still sustain itself. So why...

Ludwig jerked up. Clarity struck him like a bolt of lightning. What was it that had constantly consumed Mia’s attention ever since their first meeting? All this time, she kept warning him about an impending crisis, asking him over and over to prepare for it.

“The famine... Of course... That’s it.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. Suppose that famine struck, dropping the empire’s already dismal food self-sufficiency rate to a critically low level. If the flow of food from the Port Country were to stop at that exact moment... Right now, under Mia’s guidance, they were bolstering stockpiles and establishing new supply routes through Forkroad & Co....but had they been forced to weather such a crisis without any preparation, the consequences would have been unthinkable.

“Going down that line of logic, the Duke of Greenmoon would be more useful to Ganudos alive than dead. If her Highness’s premonition proves true and a famine occurs, it wouldn’t be at all surprising for the Duke of Greenmoon to flee overseas. Ganudos could aid his escape from behind the scenes, then stonewall his substitute by demanding that all negotiations go through the Greenmoons. A substitute would be appointed either way, but assassinating the Duke would leave them no choice but to accept the new face. Meanwhile, an absconded Duke was still the Duke, giving them an excuse to drag out the proceedings. That alone would deal significant damage to the empire.”

First, they’d make Tearmoon dependent on them. Then they’d cut them off. Vulnerability through dependence. Without relying directly on military power, Ganudos Port Country had positioned themselves to strike effectively at the heart of a far stronger opponent.

“What’s with the face, Ludwig? You eat somethin’ bad?”

Ludwig peered up at Vanos’s concerned face.

“I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “We got what we wanted. Let’s go.”

They stepped out of the church into the darkness of nightfall. Ludwig shook his head wryly. He’d spent more time contemplating than he’d thought.

“It looks like I’m starting to take after my master...”

“Did you figure somethin’ out though?”

Ludwig explained his reasoning to Vanos on their way back to the inn. The big man listened intently, nodding along until the end when he said, “All right, I get what you’re saying...but ain’t there a hole in this plan of theirs?”

“An astute observation. There is indeed, and I haven’t quite figured out how to fill—”

“Whoa, hold that thought!”

Vanos grabbed Ludwig’s shoulder with one hand and pulled. His other shot to his waist and drew his sword. A second after leaving its scabbard, the blade rang with a metallic clang. A trail of sparks flew through the air, faintly illuminating the figures of men whose dark clothes melted into the night. Five surrounded them, each holding a curved blade.

“These men are...”

“Son of a— When’d they pop up?”

Vanos glared at each assailant in turn, his sword brandished before him.

“Ganudos assassins?”

“Beats me, but judging from their weapons, I’d peg ’em as pirates.”

They traded silent looks. After a span of two breaths, the assassins attacked in a flanking formation. Vanos held them at bay, sword swinging deftly left and right, but clicked his tongue as he fought.

“Tough buggers! They know their stuff. Not regular pirates.”

“What are our chances?”

“Not good! They’ll wear us down eventually. We go big or go home. Even then, I can get at most three of them before I go down. Maybe four. Not a fan of trading lives like that. But sometimes, you gotta do what you gotta do!”

Vanos took a step forward. The muscles on his powerful physique bulged in defiance of their enemies. He growled, lips pulled back in a savage grin.

“I’ll do the fightin’, you do the runnin’. Godspeed, Ludwig. If you manage to get away, give Her Highness my regards.”

“Sir Vanos!”

Ludwig reached out to stop the big man, only for the gesture to cue his charge. Vanos exploded into motion. The assassins raised their swords.

Just before he smashed into them, something parted the air with a sharp swish. It traced an arc through the assassins’ uniquely curved blades. The gust in its wake was punctuated by a reverberating ring, followed by the clang of severed metal hitting the ground. In perfect unison, the darkly garbed men raised the stumps of their weapons and gasped in shock, the timing so perfect it bordered on slapstick.

“What the—”

Flustered, they tried to turn toward the gust’s source...

“Aha ha, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

They froze.

“Whoever turns, dies.”

The voice was flippant, but the presence behind it was anything but. Through the raised hairs on their necks, they knew instinctively that death was near. One of them let out a short yelp when the flat of a heavy blade settled on his shoulder.

“Hey, I like this. Now I know why that Jem fellow did this to the princess. You can feel the shaking through the blade. Fun.”

The blade bounced playfully inches from the assassin’s neck.

“Got you out of a real pickle just now, didn’t I, Ludwig?” The empire’s finest, Dion Alaia, smirked.