( A STORY )
from: CHAPTER EIGHT ~ LADROA ELEGY
characters: KIAN, The BARON
.
Winter is coming, and the intrigues of autumn must come to an end.
To clear his name with the Mariscales of Ladroa, Kian and his companions have brought evidence to Grand Magistrado Judex incriminating Lorentino di Magappi in the assassination of an Imperial Legate.
With his cover identity compromised and his relationship with the party strained, the Baron Cordova has decided it's time to leave the city... but not before a final meeting with Kian...
With his cover identity compromised and his relationship with the party strained, the Baron Cordova has decided it's time to leave the city... but not before a final meeting with Kian...
CLOSING THE BOOKS...
The rendez-vous had been arranged through a messenger sent to the Grey Lodge - a seemingly clueless courier with an envelope bearing an anonymous seal. It was to be a meeting by day, in a smokey Talumar coffee house in the Mercado, just across the Soldanza bridge from Laseda.
Kian had begun to suspect that the Baron would not appear, when a small boy in a cat-mask appeared and passed him a crumpled note. “Follow” it read.
He shadowed the child down winding side-streets, and finally into the Corredors. In a dead-end alley he found the lad seated on a heap of old planks, nibbling on a small portion a spiced roll. The boy simply pointed up. Two storeys up, perched on the very edge of the roof, he glimpsed another Cat. Her long blond hair was tied into two waifish pigtails, and she wore a loose gown falling off one shoulder. Her cat-mask was barely more than a domino, with large eyelets that revealed her wide green eyes. It was the older girl they called Zantina - “the Little Saint.” She waited only just long enough to see Kian bound up to the first foothold, and then she fluttered away from the eaves.
When Kian reached the top, he was impressed with how far she had travelled. She seemed as light and guileless as a stray feather on a breeze, meandering roof to roof, as if lost in reverie. Still, it took surprising effort to close the distance between them - although his body had more speed and power than the girl’s, he lacked her knowledge of these rooftops. Her path was not as whimsical as it appeared, and following was no easy matter. She giggled playfully when Kian suddenly had to veer around a latticed roof that would certainly never have borne his weight. Whenever he found himself stalled, looking for a way forward, she would pause, as if distracted by some unrelated sight or thought, and resume when Kian found his way again. Soon enough, Kian realized he no longer needed to follow Zantina. He knew where she was taking him.
She was dangling her bare toes off the cornice of a neighboring building when Kian caught up. He glanced to her momentarily. She only batted her eyelids demurely and looked towards the next roof… the top of the shabby tenement that the Cats called home.
When Kian pulled himself onto the roof, the Baron was waiting on the opposite corner, seemingly unbothered by the height of the ledge. He gazed out over the city reflectively. He was not clad in his usual elegant blacks, but instead in a patched and quilted coat, with a stocking cap wrapped around his head. Compared to his usual somber and elegant presentation, it all seemed faintly ridiculous. Beneath a crude plaster-and-goosefeather mask, he wore a false ruddy beard, but his gleaming dark eyes were unmistakable.
Kian had begun to suspect that the Baron would not appear, when a small boy in a cat-mask appeared and passed him a crumpled note. “Follow” it read.
He shadowed the child down winding side-streets, and finally into the Corredors. In a dead-end alley he found the lad seated on a heap of old planks, nibbling on a small portion a spiced roll. The boy simply pointed up. Two storeys up, perched on the very edge of the roof, he glimpsed another Cat. Her long blond hair was tied into two waifish pigtails, and she wore a loose gown falling off one shoulder. Her cat-mask was barely more than a domino, with large eyelets that revealed her wide green eyes. It was the older girl they called Zantina - “the Little Saint.” She waited only just long enough to see Kian bound up to the first foothold, and then she fluttered away from the eaves.
When Kian reached the top, he was impressed with how far she had travelled. She seemed as light and guileless as a stray feather on a breeze, meandering roof to roof, as if lost in reverie. Still, it took surprising effort to close the distance between them - although his body had more speed and power than the girl’s, he lacked her knowledge of these rooftops. Her path was not as whimsical as it appeared, and following was no easy matter. She giggled playfully when Kian suddenly had to veer around a latticed roof that would certainly never have borne his weight. Whenever he found himself stalled, looking for a way forward, she would pause, as if distracted by some unrelated sight or thought, and resume when Kian found his way again. Soon enough, Kian realized he no longer needed to follow Zantina. He knew where she was taking him.
She was dangling her bare toes off the cornice of a neighboring building when Kian caught up. He glanced to her momentarily. She only batted her eyelids demurely and looked towards the next roof… the top of the shabby tenement that the Cats called home.
When Kian pulled himself onto the roof, the Baron was waiting on the opposite corner, seemingly unbothered by the height of the ledge. He gazed out over the city reflectively. He was not clad in his usual elegant blacks, but instead in a patched and quilted coat, with a stocking cap wrapped around his head. Compared to his usual somber and elegant presentation, it all seemed faintly ridiculous. Beneath a crude plaster-and-goosefeather mask, he wore a false ruddy beard, but his gleaming dark eyes were unmistakable.
As always, a court of crows presided from nearby perches, cawing occasional queries with their own black eyes darting to and fro. The Baron turned to Kian, shielding his brow from the cold white daylight.
He gestured to the city. “My last look at this filthy, sinful, marvelous city…”
Kian snorted. “We both know that’s not really true, is it?”
“Oh, but it is. My sources tell me that the Carabassi Baemov has tragically died in custody, but by now we must assume the Mariscales know whatever it was that he knew. Naturally, I still have certain investments and contacts in this city, but for now it’s really for the best if I take my leave of Ladroa.” He sighed. “I still manage most of my affairs from Ascenzia, and if I’m being honest, the commuting has been rather exhausting.”
“A little too easy, innit?”
“It won’t be easy. You see, he will be interrupted at a key moment. Magappi is about to make his next move… perhaps planning to seize control of the Grey Stripes by force of arms? Several of Ladroa’s most corrupt watchmen have already been wooed to his side. Sprinkle in some merciless dock racketeers, human traffickers, conniving priests, and perhaps even an old Clarion spy or two. I’m sure none of them will happily surrender to the Mariscales.”
“So, you’re gonna set up the whole lot of them so you can feed them to the Mariscales. You just can’t resist getting up to your old tricks again, can you?”
“Oh? Would death by vigilante justice be better? Like the Perifericos cult massacre? Like Guiseppe Dorini? I could give you my whole guest list, and you could visit them each in turn if you prefer. Instead, I’m merely collecting them in one place and putting them into the hands of the authorities. The rest is up to them to decide. If they are innocent, then what do they have to fear?”
“Oh, really? And none of these conspirators would happen to be enemies, rivals, or inconvenient former partners of the Baron Cordova, would they?”
The Baron shrugged. “Maybe one or two. But most are not. Some would very soon become a problem for the young Lady De Cinza, I think, so this is a form of parting gift for her. Some of the others are...“
“I caution you not to report Magappi’s secret meeting to your mysterious friend, Rigolo. I fear he may act independently… and unpredictably. Better Apotheo, or Gorgones, or perhaps even Judex himself. Best to ensure that some of the bolder Mariscales take a hand. They will not wish to take chances. This will be a spectacle, one that serves my needs as well as the Mariscales. And the needs of Ladroa itself, I should think.”
“And why’s that?”
“Closure. Catharsis. A victory for the Mariscales. An enemy of the Empire exposed. The fall of Ladroa’s mysterious villain, for all to see. It will be a grand closing act. The end of chaos, and a return to… the normal business of sin, coin, and debauchery." He smiled ironically.
Kian rolled his eyes. "Well, that’s very civic-minded, innit?"
“So all we got to do is sit back and watch the show?”
“If you like. Your friend Jack may wish to stand next to the Mariscales when they corner the villain. Optics, you know. But it will be best to let them have their day. It will look good for all parties that way.”
“You’ve thought of everything.” said Kian dryly.
“Such is my vocation.” He smiled. “There is another bit of business - an item of great value which must be removed from my warehouse before that final act. I believe the Grey Lodge has a discreet canal entrance, does it not? I’d like to arrange delivery soon...”
“For that other relic of Saint Oran…?”
“The same. His hallowed armour, liberated from the fiend Leocresca, and saved from whatever fate he had planned for it. It should be returned to Oranda whence it was stolen. It only seems appropriate that your friends take on this important task, as they performed so admirably the last time. When you are ready, of course. I assure you, the reward will be greater than before.”
“Since we’re not just bait this time, right?”
“Of course not. I have no reason to expect any interference with this delivery.”
“And that other relic… ?”
“Oh, the Saint’s genuine mortal remains? Those were delivered to Talumia some time ago by ship. After all, he’s their saint, too. I never much cared for those zealots from the Ascenzia temple, so I wasn’t about to send it back there.”
“Alright, fine. I’ll tell the others about the job. No guarantee they'll agree to take it.”
The Baron Cordova looked oddly wistful. “All things considered, Ladroa has offered some sport as promised. In truth, it has not been unkind to me... nor to you and your comrades.”
Kian reflected a moment on the many strange turns his life had taken in only a few months. Pain, and gloom, and cold rage - but with it came some sense of purpose. Still, that was not for the Baron to judge.
Kian snorted. “We both know that’s not really true, is it?”
“Oh, but it is. My sources tell me that the Carabassi Baemov has tragically died in custody, but by now we must assume the Mariscales know whatever it was that he knew. Naturally, I still have certain investments and contacts in this city, but for now it’s really for the best if I take my leave of Ladroa.” He sighed. “I still manage most of my affairs from Ascenzia, and if I’m being honest, the commuting has been rather exhausting.”
Kian shifted impatiently. The Baron stepped away from the ledge and gave a curt bow. “I thank you for indulging me, Master Grey… or is it Sir Grey now? You did acquire a title in your recent travels, did you not? Forgive the circuitous route to this location. It occurred to me that I’ve been too incautious of late. Given what we must discuss, I thought it best to be discreet, and avoid… interlopers."
Kian glanced around. The sky was a pale grey that cast everything into a bleak clarity. “I dunno. Seems a bit exposed, don’t it?”
“The irony does not escape me. I’ve spent so much of my life in the shadows, but for the moment, I find this light more comforting. Between our night-dwelling friends, the Wolf and the Laughing Man, I suspect that daylight is our best cover.”
“So you came here? To this building, out of the whole Corredors district?”
“Again, better to avoid my usual haunts, and the Cats have many keen eyes in case of... trouble.”
“How much do they know? About all of this?”
“Not much. Less than you, even - but they know that Lorentino di Magappi is only a name. And they know enough to make their own choices about who they do business with.”
He leveled a knowing gaze at Kian, who only scowled.
The Baron sighed and looked suddenly weary. “I confess, my confidence was shaken by my brush with this Rigolo fellow. I knew the Mariscales were imposing… formidable in their way, but I did not expect someone so… ahem... intriguing. I was too brazen and left too much exposed. Now I pay the price for that.”
Kian glanced around. The sky was a pale grey that cast everything into a bleak clarity. “I dunno. Seems a bit exposed, don’t it?”
“The irony does not escape me. I’ve spent so much of my life in the shadows, but for the moment, I find this light more comforting. Between our night-dwelling friends, the Wolf and the Laughing Man, I suspect that daylight is our best cover.”
“So you came here? To this building, out of the whole Corredors district?”
“Again, better to avoid my usual haunts, and the Cats have many keen eyes in case of... trouble.”
“How much do they know? About all of this?”
“Not much. Less than you, even - but they know that Lorentino di Magappi is only a name. And they know enough to make their own choices about who they do business with.”
He leveled a knowing gaze at Kian, who only scowled.
The Baron sighed and looked suddenly weary. “I confess, my confidence was shaken by my brush with this Rigolo fellow. I knew the Mariscales were imposing… formidable in their way, but I did not expect someone so… ahem... intriguing. I was too brazen and left too much exposed. Now I pay the price for that.”
“The price might have been higher. You moved against us. Ol’ Jack and myself aren’t generally as forgiving as Korvuus...”
“Sir Grey, you have already proven to be one of the most dangerous men I know - a statement not to be taken lightly. This is partly due to your tendency to act as if you have nothing at all to lose. But let us not forget who moved against whom first. I acted out of concern, not malice. It is my great regret to have given you cause to… mistrust my intentions. But I accept that my missteps led us here. Di Magappi was a branch that bore fruit, but now it must be pruned to protect the tree.”
“Yeah, so about that… if you still got Leocresca squirreled away somewhere, why don’t you doll him up in your whiskers and funny nose, and hand him over to us so we can give him to the Mariscales?”
“In order for Di Magappi to meet his deserved end in the eyes of Ladroa, the proper seeds must be planted. I fear that it will not be enough simply to produce Di Magappi’s corpse and lay it before the Mariscales. This will leave too many questions and suspicions. Instead, this demands a certain touch of theatre. The Mariscales must see Magappi with their own eyes first... and they must be the ones to bring the hammer down upon him.”
“Putting yourself in the shit, then? Seems out of character.”
“True, this would involve no small danger to my person, but sometimes to be safe we must take risks. I will make the arrangements. Magappi’s warehouse in the Puerto will be the stage, and it will be set with all the necessary incriminations. In fact, I believe you might have a certain ledger in your possession that could prove useful to that effect, if you could part with it.”
“Sir Grey, you have already proven to be one of the most dangerous men I know - a statement not to be taken lightly. This is partly due to your tendency to act as if you have nothing at all to lose. But let us not forget who moved against whom first. I acted out of concern, not malice. It is my great regret to have given you cause to… mistrust my intentions. But I accept that my missteps led us here. Di Magappi was a branch that bore fruit, but now it must be pruned to protect the tree.”
“Yeah, so about that… if you still got Leocresca squirreled away somewhere, why don’t you doll him up in your whiskers and funny nose, and hand him over to us so we can give him to the Mariscales?”
“In order for Di Magappi to meet his deserved end in the eyes of Ladroa, the proper seeds must be planted. I fear that it will not be enough simply to produce Di Magappi’s corpse and lay it before the Mariscales. This will leave too many questions and suspicions. Instead, this demands a certain touch of theatre. The Mariscales must see Magappi with their own eyes first... and they must be the ones to bring the hammer down upon him.”
“Putting yourself in the shit, then? Seems out of character.”
“True, this would involve no small danger to my person, but sometimes to be safe we must take risks. I will make the arrangements. Magappi’s warehouse in the Puerto will be the stage, and it will be set with all the necessary incriminations. In fact, I believe you might have a certain ledger in your possession that could prove useful to that effect, if you could part with it.”
Kian scoffed at the sheer audacity of the request, and gave a wry, incredulous nod. The Dorini ledger had indeed exposed di Magappi's involvement in various dirty dealings in Ladroa. And now the Baron planned to turn even that to his advantage.
The Baron continued. “The Mariscales will find Di Magappi there, but they will not take him alive. And when they remove the disguise from his corpse, they will find the true author of Ladroa’s discontent, the notorious Leocresca.”
“A little too easy, innit?”
“It won’t be easy. You see, he will be interrupted at a key moment. Magappi is about to make his next move… perhaps planning to seize control of the Grey Stripes by force of arms? Several of Ladroa’s most corrupt watchmen have already been wooed to his side. Sprinkle in some merciless dock racketeers, human traffickers, conniving priests, and perhaps even an old Clarion spy or two. I’m sure none of them will happily surrender to the Mariscales.”
“So, you’re gonna set up the whole lot of them so you can feed them to the Mariscales. You just can’t resist getting up to your old tricks again, can you?”
“Oh? Would death by vigilante justice be better? Like the Perifericos cult massacre? Like Guiseppe Dorini? I could give you my whole guest list, and you could visit them each in turn if you prefer. Instead, I’m merely collecting them in one place and putting them into the hands of the authorities. The rest is up to them to decide. If they are innocent, then what do they have to fear?”
“Oh, really? And none of these conspirators would happen to be enemies, rivals, or inconvenient former partners of the Baron Cordova, would they?”
The Baron shrugged. “Maybe one or two. But most are not. Some would very soon become a problem for the young Lady De Cinza, I think, so this is a form of parting gift for her. Some of the others are...“
He trailed off. His gaze drifted down to the cat-masked girl who still sat below, humming obliviously and kicking her bare feet over the narrow streets.
He looked back to Kian. “There are some in Ladroa to whom I still owe favours. There are promises yet to be delivered. Retributions to be enacted. This is one way I have of making good on those debts.” The Baron sighed. “Perhaps you are someone who could understand this. For men as wicked as us, sometimes it seems like the only way to perform good deeds is by… by doing evil things to those who are wickeder still. Do you agree?”
Kian’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing.
He looked back to Kian. “There are some in Ladroa to whom I still owe favours. There are promises yet to be delivered. Retributions to be enacted. This is one way I have of making good on those debts.” The Baron sighed. “Perhaps you are someone who could understand this. For men as wicked as us, sometimes it seems like the only way to perform good deeds is by… by doing evil things to those who are wickeder still. Do you agree?”
Kian’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing.
“I caution you not to report Magappi’s secret meeting to your mysterious friend, Rigolo. I fear he may act independently… and unpredictably. Better Apotheo, or Gorgones, or perhaps even Judex himself. Best to ensure that some of the bolder Mariscales take a hand. They will not wish to take chances. This will be a spectacle, one that serves my needs as well as the Mariscales. And the needs of Ladroa itself, I should think.”
“And why’s that?”
“Closure. Catharsis. A victory for the Mariscales. An enemy of the Empire exposed. The fall of Ladroa’s mysterious villain, for all to see. It will be a grand closing act. The end of chaos, and a return to… the normal business of sin, coin, and debauchery." He smiled ironically.
Kian rolled his eyes. "Well, that’s very civic-minded, innit?"
"And of course, the Grey Stripes will be cleared, and the question of De Cinza’s involvement with di Magappi should be put to rest. You can even carry this bit of intelligence directly to her, and let the young lady report it to the Mariscales herself.”
“So all we got to do is sit back and watch the show?”
“If you like. Your friend Jack may wish to stand next to the Mariscales when they corner the villain. Optics, you know. But it will be best to let them have their day. It will look good for all parties that way.”
“You’ve thought of everything.” said Kian dryly.
“Such is my vocation.” He smiled. “There is another bit of business - an item of great value which must be removed from my warehouse before that final act. I believe the Grey Lodge has a discreet canal entrance, does it not? I’d like to arrange delivery soon...”
“For that other relic of Saint Oran…?”
“The same. His hallowed armour, liberated from the fiend Leocresca, and saved from whatever fate he had planned for it. It should be returned to Oranda whence it was stolen. It only seems appropriate that your friends take on this important task, as they performed so admirably the last time. When you are ready, of course. I assure you, the reward will be greater than before.”
“Since we’re not just bait this time, right?”
“Of course not. I have no reason to expect any interference with this delivery.”
“And that other relic… ?”
“Oh, the Saint’s genuine mortal remains? Those were delivered to Talumia some time ago by ship. After all, he’s their saint, too. I never much cared for those zealots from the Ascenzia temple, so I wasn’t about to send it back there.”
“Alright, fine. I’ll tell the others about the job. No guarantee they'll agree to take it.”
The Baron Cordova looked oddly wistful. “All things considered, Ladroa has offered some sport as promised. In truth, it has not been unkind to me... nor to you and your comrades.”
Kian reflected a moment on the many strange turns his life had taken in only a few months. Pain, and gloom, and cold rage - but with it came some sense of purpose. Still, that was not for the Baron to judge.
“Yeah, well maybe it didn’t occur to you that people don’t appreciate being made into sport.”
The Baron frowned. His eyes seemed to be far away, weighing different replies, but in the end he merely nodded his head and said “Forgive me, I’ll not meddle nor dissemble with you in the future.”
For a long moment, there was no sound but for the occasional flutter of the crows preening their feathers. Then Kian spoke.
“Okay, well you can shove off now. Since I’m here, I have some business to discuss with the boss-lady downstairs…”
The Baron frowned. His eyes seemed to be far away, weighing different replies, but in the end he merely nodded his head and said “Forgive me, I’ll not meddle nor dissemble with you in the future.”
For a long moment, there was no sound but for the occasional flutter of the crows preening their feathers. Then Kian spoke.
“Okay, well you can shove off now. Since I’m here, I have some business to discuss with the boss-lady downstairs…”
* * *
