Commerce Emperor

Chapter Fifty-Seven: Fog of a Forlorn Empire

When the walls of Seiraku appeared out of the mist, I immediately knew that this city had been built for war.

From the belching forges whose smoke overwhelmed even the thick mist and the sprawling central keep—a crimson pagoda of steel and stone that rivaled even Archfrost’s palace in size—this place reminded me more of a large military fortress than a capital city. A deep moat connected the city to the dark river, which connected to the lake on which our airship had crashed into earlier and to a dense canal system on which junk ships slid. I’d rarely seen them outside of Riverland Federation ports or books, nor so many. It seemed the Shinkokan used them as their main method of transportation across their center of power.

I would have found the view beautiful without the towering stone walls and fearsome square towers surrounding every inch of the city. Spear and arquebuse-wielding soldiers in lacquered armor watched us suspiciously from their positions as our convoy joined the procession of visitors seeking to enter the capital; a smaller amount than I would have expected from such a large settlement.

I quickly understood why when a group of guards and a city official in fine black robes started interrogating a line of peasants and visitors, sometimes rather aggressively. Some had their goods confiscated and a few were taken away under heavy escort for what I assumed to be detention. I noticed that the guards seemed to pay particular attention to Shinkokan women, which I knew wasn’t a good sign.

Thankfully, I had used my power to alter our group’s facial features. I’d ensured it would seem I shared a family resemblance with Beni, changed Soraseo’s eyes to pale gray and her face to something uglier, and gave Eris more common features. My lover also traded her nun’s clothing for a simpler cloak and tunic, since Arcane Abbey missionaries were forbidden from setting foot in the Shinkoku. We’d even managed to hide our marks under layers of bandages. I doubted anyone would be able to identify us for who we truly were.

“By order of the regent council, all foreigners are denied entrance into fair Seiraku,” the official warned us once our turn came. The way he looked at me made his disdain for non-Shinkokans clear. “Identify yourselves."

“My name is Rean Darkshine, a humble merchant from the Riverland Federation,” I replied in perfect Shinkokan before providing a document which boasted their dead ruler’s personal jade dragon seal. “I have a letter of passage from the late Emperor, may he rest in peace. I assume it is still valid?”

The official carefully took the scroll from my hands and duly reviewed it. I could tell the moment he spotted the emperor’s seal from the way his eyes widened slightly in shock and recognition. Between Soraseo’s knowledge of her homeland and supernatural skills at forgery, we had no issues creating a perfect mimicry.

“This is genuine,” the official said upon returning the document to me, his tone noticeably more respectful now. “Are you here for business or personal matters?"

“State matters,” I replied with aplomb.

The official studied me for a moment, then nodded in understanding. “As I suspected.”

It was an open secret that the Shinkoku Empire paid off foreign merchants to serve as spies and agents of influence in other countries, which provided us with the perfect cover story. With the change in leadership in the capital, we had returned to meet our handlers and receive new orders. Our perfect mastery of Shinkokan only strengthened the illusion of legitimacy.

Receiving a seal from the former emperor meant that I answered to high-ranked generals in the Shinkokan military; the kind who would have an official’s head on a pike for delaying us or asking too many questions.

The official then checked on the rest of our convoy. We’d come with a wagon carrying furs, jewelry, and a disassembled Ravengarde which we disguised as mere enchanted armor. It had taken us a day and a half to reach the city after hiding the Colmar and splitting from Mirokald, so we were all eager to settle down.

Soldiers searched through everything for hidden weapons or contraband and found none. I noted that they specifically asked if we transported rice, which I had seen them confiscate from peasants in the line. I suspected that the regents had instituted martial law and stocked food supplies to feed the army.

“Who are your companions, esteemed visitor?” the official asked as he proceeded to assess our group.

“These are my wife and child,” I said upon introducing Marika and Beni, while patting the latter on the shoulders. “Say hello to the good government official, Bonito.”

“Nice to meet you,” Benny replied with a shy smile in Shinkokan. Using a fake name embarrassed him more than the fact I’d called him my son in public.

“He speaks our venerable tongue well enough for his age,” the official sincerely complimented us. He hardly paid attention to Eris when I introduced her as my family’s maid, but his expression noticeably hardened upon seeing Soraseo. “May I examine this one?”

While Soraseo was too experienced to show unease, I simply raised an eyebrow and feigned confusion. “Is there an issue with my assistant?”

“By the regent council’s orders, all women of Shinkokan descent between eighteen and twenty-five with the black hair and golden eyes of the royal family must be deported to the palace for indefinite internment,” the soldier replied. “As wards of the state, of course.”

“Of course,” I replied with utter insincerity. “But please do check, we have nothing to hide.”

Soraseo stood stoically as the soldiers searched her, with a witchcrafter among the soldiers looking for any hint of essence manipulation that could have altered her eyes’ coloration. My power did not leave any trace of essence, and sure enough, they didn’t find anything.

“I must say, the fog covering these shores is unnatural,” I chatted with the official in an attempt to gather information. “Our ship was attacked by a monstrous creature on its way to the port. We nearly sank.”

“I apologize on behalf of the state for these security lapses, honored visitor,” the official replied with a curt bow. “Unfortunately, His Majesty’s death has invited all manners of vermin to crawl out of the woodwork. Our new emperor’s own treacherous sister is fermenting a rebellion against his rule.”

I’d spent enough time around Soraseo to tell when she struggled to keep a straight face. This news didn’t particularly surprise me, however.

“I see,” I replied. “Hence why my assistant invites your suspicion. You expect that the traitor will enter the capital in disguise?”

“The regent council has ordered the internment of every potential suspect and the immediate execution of any troublemakers.” The official listened as the guards reported that Soraseo had passed their examination. “Your assistant may enter our city so long as she remains with you. I ask that you reside in the Foreign Quarter for the entire duration of your stay. The sight of non-Shinkokans may invite confusion in the minds of our concerned citizens.”

A rather polite way to tell me I could expect trouble if I walked around as a foreigner inside the capital city. I was starting to understand why most nations had frosty relationships with the Shinkoku Empire.

Nonetheless, we were allowed inside without further hassle. We passed through the tall gates and entered gray stone streets flanked by houses of bricks and coal-fired clay. Lanterns adorned the city intersections and provided a measure of light through the dense fog. Soraseo quickly took the lead to guide us through the city’s districts, and I worked to keep Mudkeep and our other horse on track as they pulled the wagon behind us. Our mounts were used to carrying us, not heavy cargo.

“I find it funny that we first met pretending to be a family,” I told Marika. “A merchant ought never to repeat his tricks, but this one hasn’t lost its luster.”

“We do look and act the part,” Marika replied with amusement.

“What do I hear, handsome?” Eris asked mirthfully. “Did you and our dear Artisan have a secret tryst before we met?”

“We did build Ravengarde together,” I replied with the same tone, which drew a laugh from Marika and a thin smile from Beni. The latter had been in a sour mood since Erika’s disappearance, so I appreciated seeing him enjoy himself.

Soraseo alone didn’t share our good mood. She kept looking around through the mist and while I lacked her supernatural awareness of movements, I soon picked up on what bothered her. The streets were riddled with vagrants asking for food, I hardly saw any women around, and we swiftly passed in front of the gallows where a man had his head cut off. When I asked onlookers about what crime he committed, they answered with sedition and conspiracy against the state.

I could see which way the wind was blowing, and it was nowhere good.

The Foreign Quarter, as per its name, mostly catered to foreign merchants and dignitaries. Its inns and houses showed signs of weathered disuse, with many of their lanterns extinguished. We rented rooms at a two-story place called the Eel House, a stone’s throw away from the inn where Rubenzo’s group would stay after rejoining us. The owner, a middle-aged woman named Litanaka, warned us ahead of time that the price of meals had gone starkly up.

“Twenty silver for a bowl of beef soup is quite expensive,” I said after checking the portions. I could have bought twice that amount for twelve silver back on the mainland.

“Authorities collect a heavy rice tax to feed the army in these troubled times, which has caused speculators to hoard food,” the innkeeper explained. “All those young women being imprisoned in the palace do not inspire confidence in the future either. You won’t find many people willing to spend coin in the capital.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

I wasn’t so sure, but I thanked her for the advice nonetheless. I was in the process of paying her when I sensed Eris putting her hand on my shoulder.

“See the man on your right?” She whispered in my ear. “The one with the blue navy coat?”

I peeked over my shoulder at the inn’s dinner hall. A golden-haired sailor drank at a table with a one-eyed woman and two other men with the dangerous edge of trained cutthroats, each of them boasting the dark skin shades of Fire Island natives. The former wore a garish, feather-outfit that matched Eris’ description. I avoided his gaze when he turned his head to avoid being noticed.

“What of him?” I whispered back.

“That’s Leon Seawind,” Eris replied. “He’s Neferoa’s personal helmsman.”

My eyes widened slightly when the implications dawned on me. “I thought she was on her way to the Spiral Maw?”

“Her fleet was when I last checked on her,” Eris clarified. “She may have stopped near the Shinkoku Empire to buy supplies.”

“Or negotiate an alliance with the new emperor,” I countered. Irem and the Shinkoku Empire had always been at each other’s throats, with the latter having first colonized the Fire Islands before surrendering them to the former after a lengthy war. The two remained bitter rivals to this day.

Yet in the current context, yesterday’s enemies could become today’s allies; especially since the Shinkoku was too overextended in Seukaia to reassert their rule over lost western colonies. If I were Neferoa, I would check out the new Shinkokan leadership and see if they were willing to assist in checking Irem’s power by supporting her Fire Islands independence movement.

“Mayhaps,” Eris conceded. “I will check on Neferoa. If she is indeed nearby, then she can assist us with Mount Kazandu.”

I nodded in assent. The Shadow wouldn’t have revealed themselves if we didn’t have a chance of sabotaging Daltia’s ritual, so it had to be taking place in this country.

Was the Bard’s visit a coincidence? It felt a little too fortuitous to me for a stroke of luck, the same way I found it odd that over a third of all Heroes converged in Archfrost when Belgoroth was about to break out of his seal. Our marks subtly called out to each other in anticipation of future catastrophes.

We regrouped in a room upstairs to go over the information we gathered with the others. Marika and Beni were already in the process of reassembling Ravengarde while Soraseo stood near the window, her eyes staring through the fog outside. Her concern was palpable.

“I know that expression,” I told her. “I had the same when I first returned to Snowdrift.”

Soraseo nodded grimly. “I do not like to see my people imprisoned because of me or starving in our streets.”

“Things sound bad around these parts,” Marika added as she finished merging one of Ravengarde’s arms back with its chest. “I’ve overheard people downstairs talking about disappearances inside the capital and caravan attacks outside the walls. The fog has everyone spooked too.”

“Did you notice any hint of a forming Blight?” I inquired, with Marika shaking her head. “Our enemies here are subtler than Belgoroth’s rowdy lot.”

“The fog grows thicker the closer we approach Mount Kazandu,” Marika pointed out. “I’d wager the Knots altered the local essence leylines protruding from it.”

Eris sat on a bed and crossed her legs. “Could they do it in secret?”

“No,” Marika replied with confidence. “A phenomenon capable of affecting an entire country’s weather would require multiple teams of witchcrafters operating in multiple key sites. This empire’s exorcists should have no trouble identifying them.”

“Which means that the Knots operate with at least partial government approval,” I concluded. “Do you know who might be responsible, Soraseo?”

My friend crossed her arms and pondered my question for a while. She seemed anxious for a moment, as if considering a drastic step that she would rather avoid, before hardening her resolve.

“I cannot say yet, but I know someone who will help us,” she finally said with eyes filled with purpose. “I will need your help to contact him, Robin, if you will lend it to me.”

“Of course,” I replied. “What do you need?”

“A silver tongue.”

I could have provided a golden one, but it was her wish.

Litanaka was wrong. There were people willing to spend coins in this city; namely, the army.

Contacting them proved easier than expected thanks to Soraseo’s guidance. I simply sent a missive to the forges in charge of outfitting soldiers and asked for an introduction, which they provided within the day. The Shinkoku Empire’s bureaucracy was as swift as it was large, at least when it came to military matters.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Convincing various intermediaries to let me meet with the capital’s head quartermaster rather than lower-ranked officials took a lot more effort on my part, but I was long used to such arrangements. I bribed some, lied to a few, and insisted until I broke through stonewalling assistants with sweet words. I eventually arranged a meeting at the forges with the appropriate authorities.

“This fur is both waterproof and protects one from the cold,” I explained to the man overseeing my wares, with Soraseo stoically and silently following me around like my shadow. “Beastmen quality straight from the north, perfect for outfitting soldiers in the winter.”

“These are good, but certainly expensive,” the head quartermaster replied after he finished reviewing my goods. “How much for a set?”

“The mantles usually sell at thirty gold a piece in the Riverlands, but I would be interested in trading them for runestones, especially wind and fire-charged ones.” The Colmar would need both to fly again any time soon. “Shinkokan runestones match those of Irem in quality, and I could earn a sizable markup back in the west.”

The quartermaster pondered my proposal for a moment. “Access to runestones is usually restricted to the military, but we do have a large unused surplus and your imperial seal affords you certain… privileges. I will agree to a trade if my direct superior allows it.”

“Lord Oboro, I presume?” I asked off-handedly.

This took the quartermaster aback. “You know of him, Lord Darkshine?”

“I met him once back in Hwajing back when I supplied the Moonlight Riders on his behalf, though it has been many years,” I lied through my teeth. I saw the man’s eyes lit up in recognition when I mentioned the mercenary company; a detail so specific it accredited my story. “I could attend your meeting with him, to smooth the transfer over.”

“That could be arranged,” the head quartermaster replied. “I will request an audience to discuss your offer at the Pagoda of Steel tomorrow. You are welcome to come argue your case in person.”

“I would be most thankful for this opportunity,” I said with a deep bow. “Could I ask that my assistant join us in the proceeding? She has yet much to learn about such trades.”

The quartermaster shrugged his shoulders. “I see no issue with it. I will send a messenger to pick you up at your inn tomorrow should the audience be confirmed.”

Soraseo and I profusely thanked the man and then exited the army’s barracks without lingering. While I would rather see the sales go through to resupply the Colmar, arranging an audience with this Lord Oboro had been the goal all along.

“Are you certain he will help us?” I asked Soraseo as we made our way outside. “Exposing our true identity is a bold gamble.”

“My teacher is a good man,” Soraseo replied with a deep breath. “While he shall be angry with me, I cannot imagine he would accept our nation’s state of affairs nor tolerate the Knots’ actions. He will lend us his strength.”

I could only pray that she was right. The Knots had subverted many good men, and I didn’t know enough about this Lord Oboro to tell whether he would be the exception.

“Why go through the quartermasters first instead of more common channels though?” I asked her. “Wouldn’t your teacher have more straightforward ways to hear about emergencies?”

“My teacher likes to keep a close eye on our armies’ supplies,” she replied. “He used to teach me that logistics always trumped tactics. Even special channels would have taken multiple days. This one guarantees us a visit for tomorrow.”

That was subtler and cleverer than I would have expected. I always saw Soraseo as utterly disinterested in matters of state and politics, but she navigated her country’s bureaucracy like a fish in the water. In spite of her hang-ups about assuming the throne, I had the intuition that she would prove to be an excellent empress if she ever did.

We walked past iron gates and left the forges behind for the cooler, mist-clouded streets outside. Eris awaited us there while reading a missive. I leaned over her shoulder to check its content and immediately noticed a heavy perfume coming from it.

“Moonlight in your eyes, a glow that outshines the night, lost I find my way; in autumn's soft glow, whispers blend with falling leaves, hearts drift, then embrace,” I read out loud, a smile stretching on my face. “You didn’t tell me you had a secret admirer.”

“Please, handsome, I receive love poems every day,” she replied with a wink, although it was brief. “Neferoa is indeed in the city, by the way, as is her shiftier vassal.”

I immediately caught on. The Bard’s Vassals were the Dancer and the Spy; the latter of whom was busy infiltrating the Knots the last time Eris checked. These love poems had to be a coded message of some kind.

I wondered how they had managed to identify us so quickly. Could they have been at the inn or among the soldiers who interrogated us earlier? I hadn’t sensed another Hero’s presence back then, but this would speak more of the Spy’s talent for stealth than anything else.

“What does it say?” I inquired. “Bad news, I would assume? We only seem to get those nowadays.”

“And you would be right, handsome,” Eris replied with a grim scowl. “Our friend believes that the prince is under the Devil of Greed’s sway. Chief Magistrate Kaolin is a demon in disguise, while the leaders of the Dragon Eyes secret police and the head witchcrafter are both Knot members.”

Soraseo’s jaw clenched noticeably. “I do not recognize this name. These people must have been appointed after my exile.”

“Or because of it,” I guessed.

“Yes.” Soraseo crossed her arms, her expression harshening. “Those who supported me lost Father’s favor after my banishment. A demon was involved back then. More probably waited in the shadows for their turn.”

I began to grasp the full sequence of events. Daltia had probably been infiltrating the Shinkoku Empire for years in anticipation for her grand ritual, using the empire’s wars of conquest as an opportunity to recruit new followers inside the military and government apparatus. Once the time was right, she then probably helped engineer Soraseo’s exile in order to force a purge of the country’s upper echelons and place her pawns there, the same way she had Sebastian worm his way into the bed of Archfrost’s crown prince one crisis at a time.

“Those three comprise a third of the council of regents,” Eris said. “If the Knots have infiltrated the upper echelons of your government, then we must assume that they have eyes and ears everywhere.”

“The head witchcrafter being subverted would explain why no one does anything about the fog,” I added while rubbing my chin. I recognized the pattern already. “This is Walbourg and Snowdrift all over again.”

“You’re wrong, Robin, this is far worse.” Eris set aside the letter, her expression forlorn. “The fog ritual draws upon the entire country’s essence. I thought it was only meant to delay us, but now I wonder if it is only the first step in the crown’s forging.”

It made an unfortunate amount of sense. Forging an Artifact would likely require an immense amount of essence on top of the souls Daltia gathered for her purpose.

“We’re running out of time,” I said. “We need to gather all our allies and storm Mount Kazandu as soon as we can.”

Eris nodded sharply. “I will contact Neferoa and arrange a meeting at the inn. Rubenzo and the others should arrive some time soon, which should help us bolster our forces.”

“My teacher can arrange for us to access the mountain without opposition,” Soraseo added. “We will become like a dagger striking in the heart of evil.”

I considered our options. Should they fail to secure enough runestones to fuel the Colmar, I could always reconvert the Soundstones I’d left. They contained enough wind essence to fuel the ship, and they served no purpose sitting in a chest. I supposed I could keep a few to record Neferoa’s singing for posterity. Songs recorded by the Bard would sell quite a lot…

Wait.

Recording the Bard’s songs…

An idea crossed my mind, as devious as it was ambitious. Essence was shaped by the will and emotions of people, which the Devil of Greed intended to harness and which the Bard could influence. A nagging possibility occupied my thoughts, one which I had to test out.

If we played our cards right… and if I had time to test my theory…

Then we would be prepared should the worst come to pass.

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