Re:Zero - The King of Pride

"Lord Farcias the Younger!" Minister McMahon called out.

The full court watched as a young man was dragged in chains before the bar of the Sage 's Council. He wore formerly elegant clothing that was now ripped and dirty. The young man's face was smudged and he seemed to be very frightened.

"Farcias the Younger," McMahon intoned. "You stand accused of conspiring with radical elements to overthrow the kingdom."

"Wha-What?!" The young man gasped. "I never did anything like that!"

"Did you or did you not," Agart growled. "Openly and publicly advocate for the throne of the Dragon Kingdom of Lagunica to be handed over to a witch?"

"What?!" The young man whispered in horror. "What are you talking about?"

"I object!" An older man called from out in the courtroom.

McMahon gaveled. "You are out of order, Lord Farcias!"

The older man did not return to his seat. "My little brother simply joined a reputable camp and favored a valid candidate to the throne during the royal selection! How is this now judged as sedition?"

"Have you forgotten that this candidate is a witch?" Choi shouted.

"Even if that statement was true," Byrd protested, his voice expressing profound doubt, "This august body was itself ignorant of that fact during the selection! Do we hold the younger sons of noble families to a higher standard of behavior than the Sages' Council?!"

"Order!" McMahon gaveled.

"In the matter of witches," Choi continued in a dark voice. "The harshest penalties are called for… I recommend that this knave be sentenced to death for treason."

The young man gasped.

McMahon glanced at Montefort who sat out in the court beside Crusch Karnstein. Almost imperceptibly, the dark-haired, impeccably dressed man shook his head.

McMahon pursed his lips. "I say that for now… the young man will remain in prison until more evidence is unearthed. Any objections?"

The court was silent.

McMahon gaveled. "So ordered."

The guards dragged Farcias away.

His older brother desperately tried to grab his hand as the boy passed but the guards roughly pulled them apart and dragged the boy out of the courtroom.

Lord Farcias turned and glowered at Montefort with flames in his eyes.

Montefort gave Farcias a cool look and then looked away with a dismissive shrug.

Crusch pointedly looked away from Montefort, her hands clenched on the arms of her chair in a death grip.

I 'd pay a fortune to be anywhere else right now, Crusch mourned. To have to sit in on this kangaroo court and soil the Karnstein name by adding a thin veneer of respectability to this mockery of justice …

Crusch frowned as the next defendant was dragged into the court in chains. It was a young lady, scarcely more than a girl, whose huge, terrified eyes made her look even younger than she was.

The soldiers marched her quickly before the bar, even pulling the girl off her feet and dragging her the final steps.

Crusch barely listened to McMahon as he read out the list of spurious charges.

This is obscene, Crusch growled to herself. Whatever wickedness Subaru Natsuki and his witch might be conspiring, these children 's only crime was to threaten Montefort's grip on the kingdom!

Crusch 's gaze flickered across the packed assembly room. No one in this courtroom looks happy. Montefort 's political enemies now all have knives held to their throat. Montefort scooped up every son or younger brother that he could find and charged them all with blatantly false accusations. Now all of these people are in the same situation as Felix: hostages to their patron's good behavior.

But more than that, I 've noticed that even the people in Montefort's own faction look angry. Montefort still hasn't figured out how Felix and I timed that evidence of Subaru Nasuki's perfidy being released to spike his plan to charge him with witchcraft and since then, he's been fervently hunting through his own faction for the 'traitor.'

Montefort is too smart to have already mistreated Felix in spite of us publishing that evidence. He won 't discipline me for actions that were accomplished before this knife was placed against my throat. If he does, he's simply declaring that Felix can and will be tortured and destroyed for actions undertaken prior to our new 'agreement' or due to the actions of a third party. In such straits, I might as well openly rebel against Montefort's chain right now as it gives me as good odds for rescuing Felix as anything else does.

Montefort is too clever to blunder that way so Felix is safe for the time being.

Or I should say he used to be too clever to make such a blunder but Montefort seems to be coming unraveled. He has questioned me four times about who my allies in his faction are. I have nothing to say about this as I have no allies in his faction at all. Without any better options, I simply resorted to telling the truth: that my evidence of Subaru Natuski 's perfidy was presented that morning by sheer happenstance.

Ironically, the more often I told this to Montefort, the less that he appears to believe it. I suppose that I can 't really blame him. It is very long odds even if it happens to be the truth.

Since then, each time that I 've spoken to Montefort, he has pulled up a new list of potential 'conspirators,' people that he believes could be helping me from the shadows of his own faction. I'm nothing short of astounded at how detailed Montefort's memory is. He brings up long-past insults and long-forgotten favors, trying to justify why each noble in turn might have forged a secret alliance with House Karnstein to undermine him.

I 've studied the history of the kingdom in general and that of my House in particular since I was a small girl and even I was utterly ignorant of most of these incidents. Montefort seems to know which Houses my great-grandfather's third cousin snubbed at some long-forgotten, mid-season cotillion…

But Montefort has a weakness. He doesn 't believe in coincidence. Not trusting coincidence is often prudent but the existence of coincidence and happenstance is plain fact. They happen every day.

Montefort 's paranoia is exploding the longer that he struggles to come up with a coherent explanation for how we all got into this mess. And he's alienating his own allies by dragging them into star chamber interrogations over and over again to question them about the matter.

He 's done all but accuse some of his own people of treachery without a shred of evidence to back it up.

This is making them all furious. Hold the reins too tight and the dragon will buck.

Moreover, it 's clear that Montefort's grip on the situation is slipping and none of his political allies would care to share in Montefort's fortunes when they are on the decline.

If Montefort doesn 't demonstrate that he has the situation under control soon, the people of his faction really will begin to conspire against him.

My own faction knows what is really going on right now and they are all furious, not least of which about all of their children and younger siblings being held as hostages. We 're all under Montefort's thumb for now but if he keeps alienating his own people and they start to look for a way out…

McMahon gaveled and the young woman was dragged away in tears by the guards.

Crusch watched a portly baron sitting out in the courtroom make a fist and curse under his breath as the girl was dragged off to prison. Probably a daughter or a niece, the girl desperately looked at the baron as they dragged her away but he sat there, biting his lip and unable to do anything except glare at Montefort with flinty hatred.

Crusch made a mental note of this.

As soon as Betty, Mimi and Puck had arrived in the tower, the wide open first floor that seemed to serve as a courtyard had quickly filled with men. They all wore a black uniform with metal chest plates sewn in. The uniforms seemed to be poorly maintained as specks of tarnish were everywhere. The guards began opening the wagon cages and pulling the prisoners out, sorting them by offense and deciding where they would be kept.

Julius waited patiently, standing beside the wagon containing the spirits and Mimi.

A towering man with a short gray beard approached. He wore simple armor that was clearly well-kept but starting to show its age and his face was carved with deep lines. The man made no indication that he had ever smiled.

"Master Gregor," Julius said with a small bow.

"Sir Julius," Gregor said in a frigid voice.

Julius handed Gregor an envelope. "As ordered by the Royal Assembly and the Sages' council, I am presenting myself here with the provided prisoners in order-"

"I'm well aware of your orders," Gregor cut him off. "You need not repeat them to me."

Julius 's face darkened but he obediently closed his mouth.

Beatrice glanced around the tower. She noticed that most of the guards were staring at Julius and their gazes were not at all friendly. Julius 's spotless white uniform and weapons stood out brilliantly against the poorly maintained and cheap equipment owned by the guards.

"And where should I bring these prisoners?" Julius asked politely.

Gregor looked down at the trio with clear distaste. "These are high-security prisoners so keep them out of the general population. Magical animals go to the seventh floor. Magical humans go to the fourth."

Beatrice 's face turned white as she realized that they meant to separate her from her Bubby. "No!" She shouted out loud.

Beatrice 's cry rang out against the rafters and it silenced the entire room for a moment. Then the guards chuckled momentarily and continued what they had been doing.

"My men will bring them up there," Gregor continued, ignoring Beatrice and looking at Julius smugly. "It's your first day as a prison guard. We have lots of paperwork for you to review and fill out."

Julius 's eyes narrowed. "Master Warden, the council put these spirits into my custody. I am expected to prevent them from causing trouble or being rescued by the… witch, Subaru Natsuki. It would be much more convenient to keep them under watch if they were all in one place."

A few guards stopped moving their prisoners to stare at Julius with dropped jawed. Gregor shot them an angry look and they all quickly resumed their duties, afraid that he might turn his rage toward them.

Gregor stared at Julius as if he was inches away from ordering the knight to be thrown into a cell as well. "You listen and you listen good," Gregor hissed, getting right up in Julius's face. "This is my prison. The only purpose of your existence from now on is to do exactly as I say and if I want your opinion, I 'll tell you what it is. You may think that being a knight entitles you to some special treatment but let me tell you, boy, you 're far and away from the first knightly embarrassment to be sent here so that he could be removed from public sight. They never seem to last long here. Be very careful about putting on airs, Blue Blood. Bad things happen in these halls all the time and nobody ever asks any questions. "

Gregor finished talking with a scowl and he waited for Julius 's reaction.

Julius 's face was flushed with suppressed rage but he didn't say a word.

Gregor stepped back, a satisfied smirk crossing his face. "You get to filling out that paperwork, rich boy," Gregor sneered. "Actually, fill it out in triplicate . We 've been losing a lot of documents lately. Derek, Mason, you two take this garbage upstairs. Animals to the seventh floor, humans to the fourth."

"And where does that leave Mimi, exactly?" Mimi asked in a bored tone.

Gregor blinked, seeming to notice the cat demi-human for the first time.

He seemed momentarily at a loss at being addressed so saucily by the tiny cat girl.

A few guards started snickering but Gregor spun around and glowered at his men.

The snickering stopped fast.

Gregor snorted. "I've seen her file. She's worthless. Put her in the general populace," Gregor growled. "Get them out of my sight."

"That would be unwise," Julius interjected immediately.

Gregor whirled on him but before he could get a word out, Julius was continuing, "I've already had to reprimand two of your men for attempting to 'play' with the prisoners. You are supposed to keep this one alive and intact, are you not? Think about all the extra effort needed to do that in the general prison population."

Gregor glowered at Julius but it was clear that he was giving Julius 's words serious thought.

Finally, Gregor jerked his head. "Put the demi-human in with the girl! Now!"

The guards snapped into motion. Julius stood there with fists clenched but he didn 't move as the guards opened the cage and roughly jerked Mimi out of the wagon.

Beatrice fled to the very back, holding onto Puck for dear life. The guard seized them.

"Bubby!" Beatrice shrieked.

"Betty!" Puck yelped.

The siblings clung together with a strength born of desperation but it was unclear if the guards even noticed.

The siblings were effortlessly separated and then dragged away from each other. Both of them frantically trying to escape their guards ' clutches to no effect.

Tears were streaming down Beatrice 's face as the guard roughly pushed her and Mimi out of the main courtyard and up the winding stairway.

"Sorry, Betty," Mimi whispered.

Felt, Garfiel, and Priscilla hid in the bushes near the walled city of Abiate.

The gate was swarming with guards.

"OK. This doesn't look too welcoming," Garfiel murmured as they watched the guards carefully inspect every passenger that was still on the wagon that they'd ridden to the area.

Priscilla sniffed. "Security has gotten even tighter since the last time I was here. I'm glad that I insisted on getting out of the wagon back in Quortez, " She added in a pointed aside to Felt.

Felt grumbled something under her breath. Priscilla had absolutely demanded that the group get out of the wagon early and that they finish the trip on foot during a rest stop in a nearby village. Garfiel had agreed with her, mostly for the sake of fostering tranquility in the 'team.'

I spent a long time arguing with Priscilla, Felt recalled. I didn 't really have a good reason, I just wanted to remind Priscilla that she isn't in charge here and that I wouldn't jump just because she ordered me to.

But Priscilla insisted and finally, I gave in.

Now, I 'm trapped in the infuriating position of being forced to feel grateful that I listened to Priscilla while simultaneously hating the fact that Priscilla hadn't been wrong!

"Well, this is great," Garfiel muttered, "How are we going to get in now?"

Felt made a face. "Well, it looks like there are a bunch of gates into Abiate," She said slowly.

"Four or five if I remember correctly," Priscilla admitted. "It's a heavily fortified city. The districts are all walled off from one another."

"Huh? Why would they do that?" Garfiel asked.

"Relics of the last war," Priscilla said laconically. "Brendig never forgave the demi-humans for murdering his parents so he keeps all the demi-humans in the city under lock and key. They're all segregated from humans as well as forced into separate districts in the slums. The districts are walled off from one another. If a riot breaks out, it's easy for the guards to slam the gates shut and trap everyone in their own district. Then they can either starve them out or deal with the rebels piecemeal."

Garfiel growled. "This 'Brendig' sounds like a great guy…"

"You don't even know the half of it," Felt whispered. "Subaru and I spoke to Brendig at a few banquets. He kept trying to talk Subaru into endorsing his plan to legalize demi-human hunting for sport."

Garfiel looked aghast.

"Brendig is an adequate general from what I've been told," Priscilla admitted, "But he's regarded with contempt by the nobility. He's only kept among the flag officers because he makes an adequate puppet for whatever faction happens to have their hand on his strings at the moment."

"Yeah, well, that's all really interesting and stuff but how the hell are we going to get into Abiate?" Garfiel grumbled.

"Priscilla," Felt whispered. "Is there a… 'wealthy' district in Abiate?"

"Not by my standards," Priscilla said at once.

Felt and Garfiel both rolled their eyes.

"But yes," Priscilla continued, "There is the Diamond District where those with means dwell in the city."

"And I bet that there are going to be fewer guards overseeing the gate that leads to that district, right?" Felt asked.

"Naturally," Priscilla whispered back. "For one thing, there's far less traffic coming in and out of that district. Not to mention the fact that the guards simply assume that criminals and thugs will eschew that gate. But we can't hope to enter through that gate as we are now without attracting too much attention."

"Do we need to worry about the attention?" Garfiel asked. "I mean, there's no way that these guards are looking for any of us, right?"

Priscilla stared at him. "Are you prepared to bet your life on that theory? " Priscilla asked pointedly. "Not to mention the life of your little dust rat?"

Garfiel growled at her.

"It's actually worse than that, Garf," Felt said, ignoring Priscilla. "Even if those guards aren't looking for us specifically, all they have to do is get curious about us and decide to throw us into a cell for a few days until they figure out who we are and who else might be looking for us. Then it's just a matter of sending us back to the capitol and to the headsman."

Garfiel sighed. "Alright. So, how are we getting in?"

Felt scratched her chin. "Priscilla, do you have a formal dress on you?"

"Yes. I packed up the dress that I was wearing during my escape and brought it with me," Priscilla said carelessly. "I like to be prepared."

Felt thought hard. "Then if we can get some decent clothing in Quortez maybe we can pretend to be wealthy folks entering the Diamond District. The guards are probably used to treating the nobility with kit gloves."

Priscilla mulled it over. "It's not necessarily a bad idea, " Priscilla admitted. "But there are some problems with it. We might find a store in Quortez that sells clothes fine enough to outfit Garf as a footman or some kind of lower servant- "

"Wait. You telling me there are levels to being a servant?!" Garfiel asked incredulously.

Priscilla ignored him. "But we'll never find anything there that's adequate to be able to disguise you as even a maid or a-" Priscilla trailed off as Felt reached into her backpack and revealed a folded yellow gown.

Priscilla stared at her. " You have a dress? " She asked in shock.

"I was in court when I was declared an outlaw," Felt said brightly. "I also like to be prepared."

Priscilla digested that. "But we'd still need a carriage to make this work," Priscilla murmured. "We can't just walk in on foot without attracting too much attention."

Priscilla frowned and seemed to be thinking hard. "But perhaps I have an idea for that part."

"Alright. Let's go," Felt hissed, sneaking back through the bushes, followed by Priscilla and Garfiel.

Garfiel sighed. "Do I really have to play dress up? " He complained.

"Shut up, fleabag!" Felt snapped.

Mical Duoffre was a merchant from a long and distinguished lineage. While not technically noble, his family could trace their lineage all the way back to the time of the Great Cataclysm. This was a feat that few other households, merchant or noble, could claim. While other noble families might eclipse them in prestige and other merchants might possess more wealth, the Duoffres were well aware that no family in Lagunica possessed more dignity and pride than house Duoffre.

Some fools might decry them as an up-jumped peasant family that owned exactly one tailor 's shop in all the world but the Duoffres dismissed such comments as simply criticism born of avarice.

Mical believed that his fortunes were intimately tied to the dignity of his name and the exclusive crowd that he permitted to patronize his tailoring shop. He outfitted only the very finest servants between Abiate and Parpelt and he ruthlessly pruned his client èle for anyone who was not up to snuff.

Thus, he was not especially happy one afternoon when two poorly dressed strangers entered his shop.

One was a waifish girl with blond hair and red eyes. Her clothes were tattered and she was clearly accustomed to living rough. The other was a towering young man made of nothing but muscle and with wild blond hair that stuck out in all directions. Even worse, judging by his sharp teeth, the young man was clearly a demi-human.

Mical 's heart stopped and he rushed to the door, his arms stretched out wide in an attempt to bar them from the shop.

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" Mical proclaimed with an overly broad smile as he attempted to physically drive these hooligans out of his precious shop. "I am truly honored that the two of you decided that my humble wares were of interest to you. But I think, upon reflection, that perhaps one of my competitors would suit you better, so-"

"Garf!" The girl said flatly.

Mical let out a choked gasp as he was seized by the neck and roughly lifted off his feet by the scowling demi-human.

"Hey! Hey, there!" The girl said sweetly, waving up at Mical. "You're a merchant, right? You like gold, right?" She asked as if speaking to a child.

Mical shrugged to find enough air to provide an intelligible response.

"That's great!" The girl chirped. "See here?" The girl held out a small bag that was filled to the brim with gold coins. "This is gold," She said as if he were a simpleton. "And if you help us out, guess what? Some of this gold could end up in your pocket. Alternatively, I could just hand the bag to my large friend here and he could use it to smash your skull."

Mical 's eyes widened.

"Hm," The girl mused, theatrically pacing around as if deep in thought. "Decisions, decisions…" She turned back to Mical. "Say, since this is your shop, maybe you have an opinion on this. Which would you prefer, to be paid or to be killed?"

Mical gave her a sickly smile.

The trio hid in the bushes beside a lonely road, deep in the forest that evening. They had piled up broken tree limbs across the road making the road virtually impassible.

"Why this road?" Felt asked Priscilla.

"This is the only road that leads to Agante," Priscilla answered.

"Agante," Felt frowned. "I think that I've heard of that town. Isn't that one of the strongholds of the Black Silver Coins?"

Priscilla snorted. "The Black Silver Coins owns that town. It 's nothing but gambling halls, drug dens, and brothels. No one of gentle birth would ever even consider setting foot there. This is why it 's the perfect place to rob a nobleman."

Garfiel blinked, trying to process that statement. "You lost me on that sharp turn at the end," He said.

"She's saying that no noble could afford to admit that they were robbed here," Felt cut in. "If we steal a carriage from somebody on their way to Agante, they wouldn't be able to report us right away because they couldn't admit that's where they were going. Even after they manage to walk to someplace where they can file a report, they won't dare to tell anyone where the robbery actually took place. That should give us a nice, long head-start before anyone comes looking for us."

Garfiel digested that and his eyes widened. "Oh, I get it! Yeah, that makes sense. Still, it's not like we need this carriage for very long, right?" Garfiel asked. "We just want to use it to get into Abiate!"

"And then what?" Felt reminded him. "Unless Subaru is actually in Abiate, we're going to want to hitch a ride to wherever he is. Besides, it makes for a better disguise than just three people walking down the road."

"Oh. Good point," Garfiel admitted.

They waited.

"Jeez! Come on!" Felt grumbled. "We've been waiting here for hours!" Felt raised her voice. "Come on, Nobles of Lagunica! Don't let me down! Agante is full of brothels! There are literally hundreds of peasant girls down this road just waiting for you to mistreat and abuse them!"

Garfiel sighed. "Felt, that is not helping, " Garfiel said.

"Oh!" Felt said brightly. "Maybe we can attract a carriage by having Priscilla stand by the road in that low-cut dress of hers. Hell, why go all the way to Agnate when you can find a whore right here?"

Priscilla 's eyes blazed but when she spoke, her voice was studiously bored. "I think perhaps you would have more luck enticing them than I would, dust rat. Anyone on the road this late at night is most likely interested in little boys."

Felt seethed and opened her mouth to retort.

"Honestly," Garfiel interrupted in a meditative voice. "I don't mind waiting here all that much. The tight collar in that suit feels like it's going to choke me."

"If it bothers you," Priscilla grumble. "Try to imagine how tight the hangman's noose will be if they catch us."

"Gee. Thanks, Priscilla," Garfiel grumbled. "That made me feel so much better."

"Realistically, it doesn't matter how long we stay here," Priscilla mused. "At this point, we won't be able to get into town until sunrise when they open the gates."

Felt stiffened. "I hear something!"

The trio stared down the road and saw a carriage approaching, its path illuminated by a pair of small lanterns.

"Put your masks on," Felt ordered, pulling a bandanna down over her face. "We don't want these people recognizing us."

Priscilla reluctantly followed suit and Garfiel struggled, ultimately needing Felt 's help to tie his mask on.

The carriage approached the huge pile of broken tree limbs that blocked the road. The driver saw it at the last possible moment, desperately reining in. The dragon skidded to a halt and barely avoided crashing face-first into the pile of debris that the trio had prepared.

The driver, to his credit, clearly understood that this was an ambush and he pulled out a long knife, desperately looking all around him for signs of an attack. He frantically tried to turn the carriage.

"Alright, come on!" Felt shouted.

Garfiel raced forward with a wild whoop. He ran out onto the road and sprang up onto the carriage 's driver platform in a single bound. The driver desperately stabbed his knife at Garfiel but the demi-human caught the driver's wrist and with a twist that brought a yelp from the driver, the knife clattered to the bench below him.

Garfiel grabbed the knife while the driver rubbed his aching arm.

Garfiel sat there and just stared menacingly at the driver for a second. The man jumped back; half leaping, half falling down out of the carriage and onto the road. He took off running into the night.

The carriage door opened.

"What the devil is going on out here?!" An unshaven red-headed man in a guard's uniform demanded in a slurred voice.

"Oh, shit," Felt whispered.

"Who the devil are you?" A clearly drunk Heikel demanded of Garfiel.

Garfiel hesitated for less than a heartbeat. "Free Garkla!" Garfiel roared, lowering the pitch of his voice to make it harder to recognize.

Garfiel leaped down and confronted Heikel. Heikel reached for his sword but he was too drunk to draw it in a single, smooth motion. Garfiel grabbed his wrist and wrenched the sword out of his hand before it ever left the sheath.

In desperation, Heikel shoved Garfiel but he only succeeded in pushing himself back, slipping and falling down to the ground.

Felt and Priscilla ran to the carriage and climbed up on the driver 's platform.

Felt gingerly took the reins. "I don't really know much about-" Felt was cut off by Priscilla seizing the reins and skillfully wheeling the carriage back around.

"You can drive a carriage?!" Felt asked incredulously.

Priscilla sighed in exasperation. "Really, dust rat, if you'd just assume that I can do everything better than you, you wouldn 't be surprised so often," Priscilla muttered.

Felt stuck out her tongue at Priscilla. Then she looked back at Garfiel who was looming over Heikel, the Astrea family sword held in his massive hand.

"Who are you mongrels?!" Heikel demanded, scrambling backward and struggling to get to his feet.

"We are Vollachian freedom fighters!" Garfiel roared. "For a free and sovereign Garkla! End the Emperor's unjust reign!"

"What is that fool babbling about?!" Priscilla hissed at Felt.

Felt shook her head. "I have absolutely no idea," She admitted.

By now, Priscilla had turned the carriage around and it was moving at full speed back down the road toward Garfiel and Abiate.

Heikel had regained his feet and he was backing away from Garfiel.

"Do you know who I am?! I am Lord Heikel Astrea, the Captain of the Royal Knights!" Heikel blustered.

The carriage raced past them and Garfiel easily leaped onto the carriage step without effort. "Free Garkla, forever!" He roared out into the night.

"I will see you all hanged for this!" Heikel yelled at the receding carriage.

Heikel was quickly left far behind, swearing and cursing on the darkened road, as the carriage sped away.

Garfiel swung himself up onto the driver 's platform and sat beside the girls.

"Huh," Garfiel said in a calm voice. "That was kind of interesting. I wasn't expecting to see Heikel out this way."

"I know but actually, we're not all that far from the Astrea lands," Felt said distractedly. "Do you think that he recognized us?"

Garfiel barked a laugh. "Did you smell him?! That creep was too drunk to recognize his own mother! "

Priscilla 's mouth was a grim slash. "Perhaps but robbing the captain of the royal guard is going to attract a lot more attention than we needed, " Priscilla grumbled. "And I'm not sure if Heikel is actually smart enough to keep his mouth shut about where he was. Anyone else would fear the loss of face and prestige but Heikel…" She trailed off.

Garfiel snickered. "That would depend on if he's sobered up or not by the time he files his report," Garfiel replied.

"Sobered up?! Have you ever even met the guy?" Felt asked incredulously. "He's never sober! I think the last afternoon that he wasn't at least half-sloshed was probably at Red's twelfth birthday party!"

"Either way, it's kind of funny to see Heikel have to make his way to the Agante brothels on foot," Garfiel tittered.

"He could have been going down there for a host of reasons," Felt muttered. "Gambling, drugs, even hiring killers."

"Mongrel, what the bloody hell were you babbling about back there?" Priscilla demanded. "'Free Garkla?!' What the devil does that even mean?!"

Garfiel shrugged. "No idea but I know that we wanted to give folks a reason to look someplace else for us rather than Abiate so I figured that claiming that we were some kind of radical Vollachian separatist group might do the trick."

Priscilla looked at Garfiel incredulously. "There is no such thing as Vollachian separatists! " Priscilla scoffed.

"Oh yeah, I buy that," Felt snorted. "Vollachia must be completely unified under the emperor without even a hint of dissent! Especially if you're the prototypical example of a Vollachian noble. Your personality strikes me as the perfect type to win undying love and loyalty from everybody in the whole country!"

Priscilla snorted. "Don't be foolish! I'm not saying that there are no separatists in Vollachia because everybody loves the Emperor! There are no separatists in Vollachia because we kill them! " Priscilla snapped.

"OK, now that I buy," Felt muttered.

"'Free Garkla!'" Priscilla spat. "What a stupid thing to say!"

"Hey, I got the idea from a book!" Garfiel protested. "See, in this book, there were these folks who were fighting a war for independence against-"

"Save it, fleabag," Felt sighed. "The sun will be up soon. Let's just get ready to sneak into the city."

Melvin was a city guard in Abiate. Normally, at this time of day, he 'd be sitting outside one of the gates that led from the slums to the fields outside of town where the demi-humans would toil in the heat all day.

Luckily, Melvin had won this week 's lottery.

Since every single guard wanted to avoid the dirty, smelly, and oftentimes dangerous demi-human districts, the city had an overwhelming waiting list for guards wanting to work the Diamond District where they could be fairly certain that the only trouble they 'd run into was some entitled nobleman's petulant complaints. Working the Diamond District was such a prized position that fist fights were known to break out in the barracks between the guards assigned to the district and the guards not so fortunate.

Growing tired of dealing with the enormous waiting list, the guard captain had dealt with the problem by simply issuing a lottery: every guard who had accrued no disciplinary infractions in the past month was eligible to win the raffle for a day guarding the Diamond District. The system actually worked fairly well for the guard captain. It ensured that his guards kept their noses clean in order to qualify for the raffle and that no one got overly jealous or despaired of never getting their turn.

This week, Melvin had won the lottery and as a result, he considered himself for all intents and purposes to have an extra day off.

He 'd been on duty when the gates opened at dawn. The early crowd was already waiting for admission, mostly peddlers and merchants who were bringing new wares to the luxury shops in the Diamond District.

The only surprise was that today there was also a carriage waiting. It wasn 't unheard of for nobility to come to Abiate so early in the morning but it was unusual. Melvin wondered what sort of troubles would persuade a noble to rise from their bed and be out and about so early.

The carriage pulled up and Melvin was surprised to see the crest of House Astrea on it. He looked up at the driver, an enormous, muscular man who seemed to be virtually poured into his stylish footman 's outfit. His blond hair was neatly combed and he wore a small, tricorn hat on his head.

"Good morning!" Melvin called out to the driver.

The driver made no response other than to give him a wide smile. Strangely, a smile that did not show any of his teeth.

Melvin gave the driver a quizzical look.

Is he mute or just stupid? Melvin wondered.

"Don't talk to him!" A voice demanded from inside the carriage. "He's mute! Talk to me!"

Melvin started and then hurried over to the carriage window. He looked inside and his jaw dropped as he beheld what was simply the most beautiful woman that he 'd ever seen. She had long blond hair and ruby-red eyes. Her face displayed a reserved coldness as if the woman was untouchable by any of the world's troubles.

"Well?!" The woman snapped. "Get on with it!"

Melvin immediately remembered himself and jumped back to the subject at hand.

"Right, miss! Err, I mean, my lady!" He corrected himself, pulling out his logbook. "Uh… Name?" He asked diffidently.

The woman studied her manicured fingernails for a moment. "I am the Countess Penelope van Astrea of Hakchuri. And this is my… distant cousin, Lady Felicia Astrea. "

Melvin blinked. He hadn 't even noticed the other woman in the carriage but now that he looked, he saw a pretty young girl with the same blond hair and red eyes as her cousin. However, her nails and hair were much shorter. Melvin suspected that she led a much more active lifestyle than the countess.

Melvin dutifully wrote down both names. "And the purpose of your visit?" He asked.

"We have urgent business with Lord Zeke Cottle," The countess replied.

This name meant nothing to Melvin but that was hardly unusual. He quickly checked through the list of approved arrivals for today and his face fell.

"Uh. Countess," He said weakly. "Did you perhaps, forget to have Lord…" he checked his note. "Um, Cottle advise the guard that you would be arriving today?"

"What are you babbling about?" The countess said in a bored tone. "Why would my movements be any of the guards' concern?"

Melvin swallowed hard. "It's just that… with the recent disturbances in the kingdom, Countess, Lord Brendig has asked that we only allow people to enter the city who are properly validated by a resident. If you would be so kind as to remain here, I will immediately send a runner to… Lord Cottle to requ-"

"Stay here?!" The countess gasped in outrage. "Are you completely mad?! If you think for one single, solitary moment that you are going to keep a countess stranded outside the city gates like a cut purse on market day-"

"No!" The guard said immediately retreating. "No, of course not!"

The countess still looked absolutely livid. "What is the meaning of this inquest? Do you truly mean to suggest that I could be scheming to perform some nefarious deed in this city? Do I look like some manner of hooligan to you?! Am I not entitled to go where I wish, when I wish, without enduring unreasonable harassment by inept guardsmen?! "

"No! I mean, yes! I mean-"

"Dear cousin," The girl sitting across from the countess broke in. "Please, calm yourself," The girl spoke as sweetly as falling rain especially when compared to the fury of the countess's lightning.

Melvin noticed that the countess did not take well to be interrupted, even by her young cousin.

"Master Guard," The girl said with a sweet smile. "We understand that in such periods of uncertainty, it is important to tighten security and we are most grateful for stouthearted men such as yourself for keeping us safe and protecting us from danger and vile harassment within these walls."

Melvin flushed and grinned foolishly. "Thank you, ma'am," He said.

"Please," The girl said sweetly, "We are clearly not lowborn miscreants or vile demi-humans. I can not imagine that Lord Brendig's edict was intended to bar entrance to the city for the good and gentle-born people of the realm such as ourselves. If we do not reach Lord Cottle straight away, there will be dire consequences for our family. Can you not permit us passage?"

Melvin hesitated. One thing that a guard learned very quickly when working in the Diamond District was the concept of a 'situational response.' When a noble had a complaint, it was often just easier to bend the rules slightly and let them get away with it, as long as the infraction wasn't too severe. Otherwise, there would be complaints and inquests going up and down the command chain that never actually accomplished anything other than producing a mind-numbing amount of paperwork for all concerned.

Melvin nodded. "Of course, ladies. I would hate to hold you up for a simple, clerical error."

The countess sniffed. "It is about time," She said ominously.

Melville looked sickly. "But please speak to Lord Cottle and ask him to file a correction as soon as possible. "

"Of course," The girl said sweetly. "Farewell, noble guard. And thank you!"

The girl waved goodbye as the carriage rolled off into the city.

Melvin sighed as the beautiful women rolled away, his heart filled with many flights of fantasy.

"Hey!" A merchant carrying a heavy backpack demanded from behind Melvin. "There's a queue here, you know!"

Melvin jumped and returned to the line.

The trio parked the carriage in a large alley hidden between two warehouses at the back edge of the Diamond district.

Garfiel had quickly changed clothes and was putting out some food and water for the dragon that he 'd found in the carriage.

Felt opened the door and slid out of the carriage, now wearing her normal clothes.

Garfiel caught Felt 's arm as she raced by. "Hey! 'Vile demi-humans?'" He complained.

Felt snorted. "Eat me, fleabag! I had to play the part!" She said, hurrying past him.

Garfiel grunted, not especially mollified. "Hey, remind me, why couldn't I talk again?"

"Because you're not good at mouthing polite formula phrases and besides, we didn't want anyone to see your sharp teeth," Felt said flatly.

Garfiel picked self-consciously at his teeth. "Say, Felt," Garfiel chuckled. "How did it feel to have the Astrea last name? Was it a nice rehearsal?"

Felt glared at Garfiel and ground her teeth.

The carriage door opened again and Priscilla climbed out, once again wearing a plain red dress under her brown hooded robe. "While we're on the subject, dust rat, I don't appreciate you butting in while I was dealing with that guard!" She snapped. "You nearly ruined everything."

Felt glared at her. "No," Felt said pointedly. " You nearly ruined everything! "

Priscilla scoffed. "That guard would have let us pass in a few more seconds-"

"Priscilla," Felt cut her off in exasperation. "I know that you think that you're the absolute best there ever was at goddamn everything but the fact of the matter is that you are a really shitty swindler!"

Priscilla 's face twisted in outrage. "How dare you! I-"

"Priscilla! Your strategy of dealing with people is to abuse them and terrify them until they give in," Felt cut her off again. "Well, that works fine if you're actually a noblewoman and you can actually make his life difficult if he calls your bluff. Except, you're not a noble right now! You're a fugitive! If he calls your bluff, we're in big, big trouble!

"Terrorizing and yelling at people is fine but after that, you need to give them some direction. People who feel confused and helpless are always grateful for a bit of direction. I let you terrify him and then I told him what to do to make us go away. That's the trick. If you make people too scared or too frustrated then they'll just be grateful to kick the whole problem upstairs and call for the guard-captain who will likely not be remotely impressed by some countess that he's never heard of throwing a tantrum! 'By the way, where are you from? Where do you live? As a guard captain, I deal with the nobility around here on a regular basis but I've never heard of you or the person that you claim to be here to meet!'" Felt finished pointedly.

Priscilla glared at her.

"Hey, can we talk about this later?" Garfiel grumbled. "We actually have things to do."

Felt nodded. "Alright. Grab everything. All the bags come with us."

"They do? I thought we were coming back here for the carriage," Garfiel said.

"Hopefully," Felt admitted, pulling on her backpack. "But there's no guarantee that the carriage will still be here when we get back though," She said.

"Right. Good idea," Garfiel nodded. "I'm going to grab Heikel's sword then."

Felt blinked. " Why ?! "

"Because I want to give it to Red the next time that I see him," Garfiel grinned.

Felt rubbed her forehead. "He wants to give it to Red," She repeated to herself. "Why me?"

No longer dressed as members of the nobility, the trio attracted little attention as they calmly made their way out of the Diamond District and into the enormous demi-human slums.

The town was heavily fortified with concentric rings of stone walls that walled off the districts. At a glance, most of the districts except for the Diamond District were populated by despondent demi-humans dressed in rags. Garfiel quickly noticed that an unusual number of armed guards were patrolling these areas with hard faces and weapons drawn.

This isn 't a town, it's a prison camp , Garfiel realized.

"What are we looking for down here, shrimp?" Garfiel asked quietly.

Priscilla seemed disgusted by the environment. "Yes, by all means, let's hurry up and make contact with these brutes already," Priscilla growled in a whisper. "Even the air in this place is disgusting."

Felt shook her head. "It's too early. We can't make the signal until dinnertime. We need to find a place to lie low until then."

"Why would you wait until now to tell us that?!" Priscilla demanded. "We walked all the way down here for what, exactly?"

"Alright. So what do we do while we're killing time?" Garfiel muttered.

"I saw an inn in the Diamond District," Priscilla said, heading back that way. "We should be able to hide there while we wait."

Priscilla came to an abrupt halt when Felt grabbed her sleeve.

Priscilla spun around and stared at Felt, her face livid.

Felt faced her squarely. "No," Felt shook her head. "The message Gramps got 'suggested' that we spend the night in the… 'Neighbor's Barn…'" Felt sighed.

"Excuse me, shrimp?" Garfiel said in disbelief. "We're staying where?"

Felt rubbed her forehead. "It's apparently a very poorly named inn that's not far from here."

Garfiel 's eyes narrowed. "Oh," Garfiel growled. "I get it. It's called a barn because there's nothing but demi-humans around here. And where do the 'animals' sleep?"

"I am not going to spend the night in this dump!" Priscilla said, looking around the slums in disgust. "There were perfectly adequate inns in the Diamond District!"

"Priscilla," Felt grumbled, fighting for patience. "We are trying to set up a meeting with some pretty dangerous people. For all we know, they're already watching us and evaluating us. So if they 'suggest' that we do something, we had better do it if we want this meeting to actually happen. If they think that we can't follow basic instructions, they might decide that contacting us at all is a bad idea."

Priscilla groaned and rubbed her forehead in frustration.

Garfiel snorted in laughter at the look of despair on Priscilla 's face.

"Alright," Garfiel said with a broad grin. "Where is this 'barn,' shrimp?"

Felt squinted as she studied the town. "That way, I think," Felt said, leading the way deeper into the slums, followed by Garfiel, and a very morose Priscilla.

'The Neighbor's Barn' was run by a burly, pig demi-human and his equally burly, pig demi-human wife. When the trio walked into the inn, the innkeepers made no effort to convince them to stay and instead gave them all hard looks as if debating whether or not they would let them spend the night there at all.

Most of these hard looks were directed at Priscilla but Felt also got a few.

After a few moments of staring at Garfiel, the innkeepers glanced at one another and a consensus was apparently reached. The pair ignored Felt and Priscilla entirely and they quoted a long list of house rules to Garfiel before they would accept his money. Garfiel had never even heard of some of the things that were prohibited.

The only bright spot, at least as far as Garfiel was concerned, came when the innkeeper asked how many beds they would need for the evening.

"Look," The burly pig grunted. "I don't ask certain questions. Whatever your relationship is with the sisters, it's none of my business. If it doesn't bother them, it doesn't bother me."

Garfiel choked back a laugh. "Three beds, please."

Garfiel glanced at the girls to see their reaction and where Felt 's expression was simply annoyed, Priscilla's face was nothing short of thunderstruck.

I feel like the only thing keeping her from drawing that magic sword of hers and obliterating the innkeepers is that she 's too shocked to remember how.

I 'm guessing that she also can't make up her mind whether she's more offended by the idea of being Felt's big sister or my lover, He thought in amusement.

Garfiel quickly paid for a room with three beds and they all bustled upstairs before Priscilla managed to recover herself.

The room was spartan but it was clean. The beds all looked neat and tidy.

Priscilla had finally regained her tongue. "I should go down there and peel the hide off those insolent-" She raged.

"Prissy? Give it a rest, OK," Garfiel sighed, sitting down on his bed. "It's barely breakfast time and it's already been a long day, thanks to all your complaining."

"Prissy?!" Priscilla asked incredulously.

Garfiel gave her a steady look of annoyance.

Felt was inspecting the beds carefully. "Garfiel, heads up," She muttered.

"Something wrong, shrimp?" Garfiel asked.

"Maybe," Felt bit her lip and thought hard for a moment.

"What's going on?" Garfiel asked, getting up and walking over to her. Even Priscilla approached to see what Felt was looking at.

Felt was examining the beds and the other furniture. "This inn is fake," Felt murmured.

"Huh?" Garfiel said. "What do you mean 'it's fake?'"

Felt pursed her lips. "I've seen bedrooms in slum inns before, fleabag-" She said.

Priscilla sniffed. "Oh. Is that where you earned most of your coin, dust rat?" Priscilla mocked.

Felt glared at her for a moment then ignored her. "This room is too big and too clean for a slum inn. Especially considering what we paid for it. This inn is just a front."

Garfiel squinted at Felt. "Seriously?" He asked skeptically.

Felt rolled her eyes. "Garf! Did you even notice those hand signals that Papa Pig kept making to you? " Felt said with an edge in her voice.

Garfiel blinked and thought back. "Uh… No," He said awkwardly. "I didn't notice him making any… particular gestures."

"Yeah? Well, I did," Felt said in a grim voice. "He did it three times. He'd make the gesture, wait a few moments, and then make it again. I'd bet anything that the hand gesture was a recognition sign and he was waiting to see if you'd make the correct counter-sign."

Garfiel frowned, mulling that over. "Then we've found the Alliance!" He said with a big smile.

"Maybe," Felt admitted.

"Come on, shrimp, who else could it be?" Garfiel asked.

Felt looked at him incredulously. " Who else ? What about the Black Silver Coins or another criminal cartel? We 're not far from the Vollachian border, it could be an operation by whatever intelligence service Vollachia employs-"

"I doubt that you'd find the Arcani in a dump like this," Priscilla sniffed.

Felt ignored her. "It could be some kind of merchant guild organization. Even if it is the Alliance, we sure as hell aren 't going to walk down there and confront them about it."

Garfiel squinted at her. "Uh… Why not?" Garfiel asked.

Felt sighed and rolled her eyes heavenward. "Garf," She said slowly as if speaking to a child. "The Demi-Human Alliance are wanted criminals all over the world. That means they think being identified is really, really bad because it will get them executed. So, if we tell them that we know who they are, they 're going to start wondering if us walking out of here alive is an unacceptable risk. If you want to get help from a secret organization, you should work really hard to convince them that you 're not trying to unravel their secrets so they don't decide that you're trying to expose them."

Garfiel scratched his chin with a thoughtful look on his face. "This shit is getting so complicated," He complained. "I actually miss the Witch Cult! There was none of this political intrigue bullshit! It was nice and simple! We were the good guys, they were the bad guys, and Roy made a very satisfying splat when he hit that boulder! "

Felt looked at Garfiel for a long moment and then sighed.

Priscilla flopped down on her bed. "Wonderful. We're either well on our way to finding Subaru Natsuki or well on our way to becoming prisoners. Splendid," She said brightly. "Any more bright ideas, dust rat?"

Felt shrugged. "There's not much that we can do except wait for dinner. "

"That's hours away!" Priscilla objected. "We haven't even had lunch yet!"

"Or breakfast," Garfiel added.

Felt rubbed her own stomach with a rueful expression. "I'm not sure if this inn serves food. They didn't mention it when we checked in."

Garfiel made a face. "I'm not so sure that I'd want to eat whatever Papa Pig cooks up anyway. Why don't I go out and browse around?" Garfiel suggested. "I can try to find us something to eat and maybe locate the place where we're supposed to make contact tonight."

"If you're going out then we should all stay together," Felt replied.

"No," Garfiel said firmly. "You two are going to attract a lot of attention down here. I'm a demi-human. I'm one of them. They'll trust me as long as I'm not with you."

Felt looked pained. "Garf, I wouldn't… count on that too much."

Garfiel snickered. "Don't worry, shrimp. I'm not going to take any chances. I'm just saying that I can blend in down here and you guys can't. So it makes sense for me to go out to scout and try to find some food. What exactly am I looking for?"

Felt mulled that over and finally, she sighed. "The message said to make contact at a local pub where some of the field hands eat after they come off shift. It's called 'the Feeding Trough.'"

Garfiel made a disgusted face. "You know, shrimp, the people in this town have a really sick sense of humor. "

"Oh yeah," Felt agreed.

"Wait a second," Priscilla said in realization. "Are you telling me that I'm supposed to just sit here all morning? With you?" Priscilla said to Felt in a tone of loathing.

Felt 's face twisted in annoyance. "No. I'm saying that I have to sit here all morning. With you . Trust me, that 's much worse."

"I'll just be going then," Garfiel said to nobody as he left.

Garfiel pulled up his hood as he walked out of the inn. Now that he was looking for it, it was impossible not to notice the suspicious way that the innkeepers were watching him. Not hostile, not yet but definitely suspicious.

Garfiel walked down the muddy streets in the slum, looking for the pub that Felt had referenced. The roads were fairly empty at this time of day. Most folks were still out working in the fields and the only people in town right now were merchants, tradesmen, and idlers who were struggling to avoid the hard gaze of the armed guards.

Garfiel couldn 't miss the fact that the guards were all human.

If everyone is working out in the fields every day anyway, why don 't they just go and live out there? Garfiel wondered. Why come back to town just to sleep?

He thought about it for a moment. Oh. I get it. If the demi-humans didn 't come back inside the walls every night to be inspected and searched, the authorities around here would assume that they were plotting something and there'd be a crackdown. Great. Now I feel stupid…

Garfiel saw a small group of soldiers marching toward him as they patrolled the village, looking around with hard faces for signs of dissent or trouble.

Garfiel 's eyes narrowed and he quickly slipped into a narrow alley.

They 've got no reason to be looking for me but I think that I'd rather avoid a 'random' check right now. There's no way that works out to my advantage.

Garfiel was slinking out of the narrow alley when he heard a voice.

"-Subaru Natsuki."

Garfiel instantly drew back, pressing his back against the wall and listening carefully. It sounded like the speaker was standing just outside the alley.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't believe that Subaru the Invincible was actually a witch," The man sighed. "Well, I guess that was why he was so invincible…"

Another man snorted. "Don't tell me that you really believe all that bullocks?"

"Greg, what do you mean 'do I believe it?' The royal assembly said-"

"Oh, there's a trustworthy bunch of clear-skins, Jeff," The first man scoffed.

"Why should they lie?" Jeff asked.

"Why should they lie?! Let me count the ways!" Greg said sarcastically. "You don't think that it's a little too convenient that evidence to disqualify Lord Subaru surfaces as soon as it looks like he was going to win the selection? The nobility was desperate to discredit him! First, they throw an empty case against him, accusing him of witchcraft based on a whole lot of smoke and mirrors. No evidence, no witnesses, no nothing! I would have expected the case to be dismissed on the spot if the judge were the least bit honest! Then, just in the nick of time, they finally get their evidence: the testimony of a dead man provided by the knight of Lord Subaru's greatest rival! They must think that we're all truly stupid to buy all this!"

"You think that they're lying?" A third man asked in a neutral voice.

Greg snorted. "Are you kidding?! I've never seen such an obvious frame-up! At least, I've never seen one that wasn't aimed at a demi-human," He added with black humor.

"What do you think, Steve?" Jeff asked.

Steve sounded noncommittal. "Honestly? I don't even really care if it's true."

"…What?!" Greg asked in surprise.

"You don't care if Subaru Natsuki is an honest-to-god witch?" Jeff echoed in disbelief.

"What's the big deal?" Steve said matter-of-factly. "He's not going around cursing people or afflicting the populace with plagues. Most of the nobles use magic anyway. What makes him so different?"

"But if it's witchcraft-" Jeff argued.

"Come on, Jeff," Steve sighed. "At worst, Subaru Natsuki is just going around associating with a silver-haired, half-elf witch. So what? In the old days, all of the kings had a pet witch."

"What?! Like who?!" Jeff asked incredulously.

"'The Good King,' The king from 'Tommy and the Red Dragon,'" Steve recited, "'Varric the Ice Climber,' 'The Sun King-'"

"Those aren't historical figures, those are characters from fairy tales!" Jeff said in disgust.

"Those stories are allegories, Steve," Greg said patiently. "The literary trope of a true king being able to tame the witches is just symbolic of civilization gaining control over the chaotic forces of nature. It's not supposed to be taken literally!"

"How do you know?" Steve demanded. "What makes you so sure that those men didn't really have a witch sitting beside them as they ruled?"

"Well, for one thing, none of those people ever actually existed!" Greg snapped.

"Hey, can we stop worrying about what maybe happened a few thousand years ago?" Jeff sighed. "We should be worrying about what's happening right now! If Subaru Natuski really is a witch then he'll have set back the cause of demi-human rights for centuries."

"He's not a witch," Greg emphasized. Then he sighed. "But being falsely accused is almost as bad, I guess. I was actually starting to get my hopes up that things could get better."

"Hey… Any of you guys heard from the Alliance lately?" Steve whispered.

There was a long pause. Garfiel imagined the trio looking around furtively to make sure that they hadn 't been overheard.

"The Alliance is all but dead," Jeff said dismissively.

"Buried but not dead," Greg disagreed. "They've been keeping their heads down since the war ended. A few acts of sabotage here and there, the murder of a demi-human abuser every once in a while, but I hear that they've just gotten a new lease on life."

"What are you saying?" Jeff asked.

"My cousin Dominic disappeared a few weeks ago," Greg said quietly. "He just up and vanished. His folks aren't saying anything but they told us not to go looking for him. I've heard that the same thing happened to two more people I know. Their loved ones don't look worried. I think that they got recruited."

"It happens," Steve murmured. "I know somebody who vanished last week too and we were all urged not to make a fuss about it. A few of the best and brightest get recruited every year."

"This is more than a few, though," Jeff said in a worried tone. "If we all know somebody that this has happened to, they're not just recruiting the best and brightest for shadow operations anymore. They're building up for something major."

"What?!" Jeff gasped. "Are they crazy? If they try taking the fight to the kingdom, they're going to get fucking slaughtered again! Just like they did fifty years ago!"

"It might be different this time," Steve said slowly.

"Yeah, maybe they'll kill all of us this time," Jeff grumbled.

"Steve is right," Greg said. "This time we might not be going it alone…" He added meaningfully.

Jeff snorted. "Bullshit. Nobody sympathizes with us. Convince the lowest, poorest clear-skin that he's better than a demi-human and he won't even notice that you're robbing him blind. Give him somebody to look down on and he'll follow you barefoot into hell," He said in disgust.

"Maybe once, maybe… not anymore," Steve said.

"What have you heard?" Greg asked.

"Well, look at Drego-"

"Oh! Drego, our beloved city councilor," Jeff said sarcastically. "The token demi-human in the group. Does he serve any purpose on the council other than to give the clear-skins a target for racial slurs?"

"Shut up and listen, already!" Steve hissed. "Drego has been seen talking with a bunch of the village chiefs from the surrounding communities. They weren't really all that fond of each other before but now they're all thick as thieves."

"The villagers?" Greg echoed in surprise. "What is Drego doing with them?"

"Lord Subaru kept talking about raising the standard of living for demi-humans and the peasantry. The peasants are just as angry as anyone else about what the Sages' Council did. Drego has been going around to all the local villages, telling the peasants: 'See? We have a common enemy.' And I've heard rumors that the human peasants are starting to listen…"

Jeff snorted. "It's a beautiful dream!" He said sarcastically.

There was a momentary silence.

"If it was true," Greg said slowly. "If the peasantry and the demi-humans really did make an alliance…"

"The nobility would be crushed!" Steve said fervently. "There isn't an army on the continent that could stand up to that many people."

"Until they buy the peasant clear-skins off with a sop in exchange for them all turning on us," Jeff said dismissively.

Greg sighed. "Do you have to predict the worst in every situation?! If we just give up, nothing will ever get better! What 's your suggestion? We just roll over and die?"

"Greg, I'm trying to stop people from dying!" Jeff hissed. "I'm sick of burying my friends and family because they thought that it would be safe to put a toe out of line! The clear-skins will let us run the race as long as we don't try to win. If it looks like we're about to pull ahead, the clear-skins will break one of our legs just so that we can't run as fast!"

"I don't know, Jeff," Steve whispered. "The peasantry are angry right now. They're angry like I've never seen. I think they might just be angry enough to decide that they hate the nobles more than they hate us."

"It's a beautiful dream," Jeff sighed again. "But forgive me if I don't hold my breath!" He hesitated. "Hey, let's get out of here, guys. This isn't the kind of conversation that we should be having on the street."

Garfiel heard the three walk off.

Garfiel stood there for several minutes after they left, deep in thought.

Huh. Sounds like the Captain 's fan club just keeps on growing. I'm not surprised by what two of them thought. I figured that folks would either believe what the Sages' Council said about the Captain being a witch or they'd believe that he'd been framed. No surprises there. But that third guy who said that he flat-out didn't care if the accusations were true was kind of weird. I wonder how many other people have the same perspective?

And the Alliance is starting to build up again? Guess I saw that coming. What is surprising is the fact that this time, they 're trying to make common cause with poor humans. It's a great idea but I'm still surprised that they're doing it. Then again, not sure how much stock I should put in the rumors that these guys were repeating. For all I know, they learned all of this stuff from the bottom of an ale mug.

If it was a mug of Rom 's own brew, I'm just shocked that they didn't see purple dragons pulling the Captain across the sky in a chariot made of fire.

When Garfiel was certain that the three were long gone, he emerged from the alley and continued to explore the slums.