rgv

  funeral, non-judicial execution, dismissive nguage, objectification

  [colpse]

  The MemorialAfter a night of making up that left Iris blissful and Biyu feeling oddly accomplished, Biyu spent the day reading one of the books that May had taken to teasing Iris about. She considered it studying, but after Iris walked in, looked at what she was reading, turned scarlet, and fled, she supposed it counted as teasing too. Still, she had never read a book like this before. It was fascinating to peer into the carnal world she had always felt so divorced from. There was more to it than the mechanical aspects she knew of, although she knew this particur book did not represent a normal retionship. Somehow, that appealed to her far more, perhaps because it read like a manual for a role in a retionship someone like her could fulfill.

  The story's romance was between a man and a woman. Biyu found herself wondering if there were works that better fitted her own situation. She promised herself to find out. Part of her wanted to ask Anya when they arrived, but she stifled it. In the popur romances she had been educated on, asking a person you spurned for advice about your current lover tended to end in duels. Unless it was a spurned woman, in which case the result was a sudden surprise stabbing when you were least expecting it some time ter. It was a depressingly common theme in tragedies.

  As the day wore on, Biyu got tired of reading. Iris was nowhere to be found. Clio was tidying up with Chattel. She thought about requesting music and refreshments in the garden, but it did not fit her mood. What she really wanted to do was practice her bow, which she had left with Lady Chelsea. It had been too long since she st practiced. Bored, she went to see what was happening elsewhere on the estate.

  In the training yard, boisterous shouts led her to find the guards working with May and Bert. Sir Jeremy was asking May, "Can you show me the style you use?" Biyu found a spot on the veranda to sit and watch the demonstration.

  The soldiers perking up at the request. Forming a ring around the courtyard centered on May, they looked on with anticipation as Sir Jeremy faced May. May looked around and pointed out two of the younger soldiers and one of the veterans. "I'll take you three at once. I can't show my style unless I'm outnumbered!"

  The watching soldiers shuffled, letting Sir Jeremy join them while the chosen competitors joined May in the center of the ring. May selected a long training sword and fred her cloak with a few practice swings. The three men took their pces opposite her. When Sir Jeremy shouted for them to start, May took a step and the first junior, who was running to fnk her, tripped and fell over her training sword. She tapped his back with the point, too far for the other junior or senior to defend him, and he was out.

  The veteran watched her grimly take out one junior, and lifted his shield, ready to engage or defend if she tried the trick with him. The other junior, completing his fnking maneuver, readied himself to pinch her between the two of them. May stepped. This time she shoved the surprised trainee in the back to stumble into the center of the ring, off bance. She struck the trainee's calf and shoulder checked him when he was off bance and trying to recover. He put his hands up in surrender after rolling across the ground and nding on his back.

  The veteran approached May cautiously, his eyes fixed on her. He had already lost both allies, and the woman had done it swiftly and effortlessly. May frowned, looking between her sword and her opponent. One on one with a man wielding sword and shield was well within her abilities, particurly if she relied on her [Wind Walk], but even Biyu could tell that the man would be difficult to nd a telling blow on with only those techniques.

  May changed her stance, switching to her cssic sword skills. Sparring with the veteran, a mortal man, she moved through simple feints and blocks, learning the way he fought, until she drove into him. She forced openings without capitalizing on them, until it was fairly obvious that she was overwhelming him. Part of the problem, Biyu noted after touching May's thoughts, was the fact that she still was not used to using such a long bde with her old style.

  The man grunted, backing off as he admitted defeat. "Would do better if we had fought defensively," he grumbled before helping his rattled junior to his feet.

  Sir Jeremy nodded, his brows raised. "You might not be able to strike people down that easily in a melee, but I can see how you could tip the bance of a fight. Or tie up a line of skirmishers all by yourself."

  May smiled, nodding. "That's my job. Pinning them down or putting them off step while my Master or heavy hitters take them out."

  "You need allies to be truly effective, then. It's a good thing you have the other style you used at the end. I noticed it isn't very polished."

  "Eh, yeah, that's my old style. Not used to using it with something this long." She lifted the long bde. "Want to go a round? I need the practice."

  Sir Jeremy snorted. "Well, it'll be more of challenge against me than common soldiers." He selected a training weapon before limbering himself. He ignored the members of his squad starting to make bets on the outcome. "Techniques?"

  May shook her head. "No, I need the sword practice like you pointed out. I ain't gonna use any power except trying to match you physically, if I can. Skill versus skill."

  Biyu wandered away, as the betting among the squad turned into squabbling as they tried to change their bets. No need to watch May flirt.

  Memorial rites had six parts. Last night they had taken part in the Calling of the Deceased. That was simply a call for the deceased, whether a Lost Soul or in the Heavens, to come participate in the rites. That was the opening of a grand feast, the Last Feast, held in honor of the deceased. It was held around the pyre, with some of the guest of honor's favorite foods presented along with other fare. A sample of food would be provided on a table intended for the guest of honor, and it was normal for a little of the food to disappear in the course of the night. That was considered an auspicious sign that their guest was among them, and Biyu was amused to see Iris surreptitiously steal a couple of pieces of food when people were not paying attention to her. Lord Emanuel made a point of noticing the missing food with a tearful smile. Other than partaking of the food, the guests would mingle and eat while offering toasts or gathering into groups to reminisce.

  They left before the Vigil of the Deceased began. That part of the rite served two purposes. First, it was to keep a watch on the body, if present, and ensure it did not rise. It was also a chance for the family and close friends to reminisce and offer their st words to the deceased. While Iris, as Isolde, was technically expected to participate, there was admittedly a difference between speaking to an abstract idea of their presence and having the flesh and blood person mingling nearby. Besides which, Biyu was not so close to the family that it was altogether appropriate for her to spend the night, even though the family assured her it would be fine.

  Biyu dressed up for the end of the memorial service. A long sleeveless vender gown in a traditionally feminine style was worn over a long sleeved off-white tunic. Iris had demanded she wear hair ornaments and paint her face, even though Biyu almost never wore makeup. Her hair was coiled into a tight bun, and a fine embroidery of a bck and violet tree was stitched upon her breast instead of her usual broach. A tight broad belt cinched her waist, exaggerating her figure. She even wore a quilted under tunic to give her upper body more than a suggestion of curves. A scarf was wrapped around her neck, to cover her face if she needed to hide unseemly emotions. Both men and women normally wore scarves to a memorial, although men were expected to resist using it. Still, no one would begrudge a father tears for his child, or a husband for his beloved wife.

  Iris wore Biyu's house colors, her clothing almost like livery but formal enough for mourning. She had taken on Clio's likeness, as Biyu had asked her to, including a facsimile of her tattoo. She had not needed to change her appearance st night, for only family and friends had been invited to the Feast and Vigil. May wore a soldier's uniform under her armor, and she was with the rest of the guard protecting the Lesser Pace during the ceremony. Sir Jeremy was among the protectors, but it was the old man in charge of her guards when Isolde had 'died' who served as Captain for her memorial detail.

  They were within the northern courtyard of the Lesser Pace. Guards protected the inner gates and the entrances to buildings. Assassinations during funerals and memorials had happened before, and no guard would be less than vigint when the public was allowed into a pace for any reason. A pyre was id out in the center of the outer courtyard, where an effigy of Lady Isolde made of straw wrapped in a funeral shroud id. It had also been doused in oil, to help it burn. A painting of Lady Isolde was propped up besides the effigy, a conceit of the rich. The poor usually had to settle for fired cy tablets, and even those of means usually had a sheet of dyed vellum with the name of the deceased scribed upon it. Sometimes a cy effigy was all that was offered. Such memorabilia were usually inscribed with passages from the living in honor of the deceased. They could include favorite sayings, stanzas from a favorite poem, or a pithy epithet. Sometimes it was a rebuke, or final jest at the expense of the deceased.

  In a world where the dead should be disposed of within three days lest a Lost Soul animate the body, it was not unusual for a memorial to be held instead of a funeral. It was important for the living to see the deceased off to the Heavens, and so a memorial—a funeral without a body—was a tradition that had been widely adopted. In one way, it was a chance for the living to say goodbye. In another, it was a means for the dead to be commended to the Heavens by those who loved them, even if the body was lost.

  Today they were attending the Eulogy, Final Words, and the Lighting of the Pyre. They were granted a pce of honor near the family. Lord Emanuel stood before mourners: family, servants, nobles in residence, and members of the public with enough clout to be invited. His brother's wife, Lady Tabitha, had her two sons with her. The elder son, who would succeed as Viscount Lonelyknoll, was stoic and silent. The younger was shushed by his mother as he fussed. He was approaching manhood, with the first whiskers on his cheek, but he still cked maturity. There was a daughter, but she was already married into a household far away.

  Lord Sebastian was in attendance with a small retinue of soldiers who had not been allowed into the courtyard, and a merchant named Derrick Noveljoys. Lord Emanuel and his family were frosty with the man when they greeted the mourners on their way in. Despite that, the man had a congenial air. He struck her as the kind who readily cheated his most loyal customers if he thought he could get away with it. Either he had a good reputation despite looking like an oily storybook merchant, or he was very good at convincing people that they saw through him. His fingers were adorned with rings studded in rge enchanted gems. A thick chain of gold hung on his neck, with a ruby that glowed with power. Part of her felt a deep revulsion at his smile that she could not put a finger on, but it reminded her of her gut response to the Ogre Maker. When Biyu looked at him with [Wizard Eye], her vision was muddled by one of his enchantments. That struck her as suspicious, and she found her eyes drawn to him throughout the ceremony.

  Lord Emanuel started out by looking over the gathered mourners. He took in every face, frowning slightly at those he would not have invited, and giving a genuine smile at those who offered him encouragement. After giving a look that the scribes hired to transcribe the event were ready, he began his eulogy. In his eulogy, he talked about raising his daughter, and his pride in her triumphs as her father. It did not st long, Lord Emanuel's voice breaking with the pain of his loss. When he was finally overwhelmed, he turned the proceedings over to his wife.

  Lady Vanessa spoke about the things her daughter loved, particurly the stories of noble warriors and rescued fair maidens, with an oblique comment on their risqué nature that elicited a few chuckles. Biyu smiled as she thought about the book she had read yesterday. Lady Vanessa moved on to talking about how she wished her daughter had managed to find such a man for herself, even if it was a silly daydream.

  Crice spoke next. For her, it was the fact that she loved her as her own daughter, and told anecdotes about the few activities she would miss doing with Isolde.

  Lord Herbert spoke about how he looked up to his younger sister, who was quite good at the things a noble woman should be, and how he mented that his future wife would be measured against her. While he likely intended to make the crowd chuckle with that, there was an uncomfortable silence as his words fell ft.

  A woman Biyu did not know, a friend of Isolde's, wept openly as she talked about being friends with her, and her propriety and kindness. She went on about how she would envy her best friend her social grace and beauty.

  Besides Biyu, Iris had damp eyes from barely withheld tears. Though an unwanted man had come to this service, Iris had more of a right to be here than anyone else. She was, after all, saying goodbye to Isolde just as much as anyone else here was. This was, in a very real sense, her funeral. She had lost everything. Her parents. Her friends. The pce she held in this city. A future her rank and connections afforded her.

  Biyu took a turn to speak, and the Viscount's family looked pleasantly surprised as she stood before the gathering. "I did not have the opportunity to meet Lady Isolde. Unfortunately, I arrived too te to rescue her from the brigands that had attacked her." Lord Sebastian scowled at her. "Listening to you all today, I can tell Lady Isolde was a beautiful woman. I regret never having had the opportunity to meet her. Thank you for sharing your memories, and I give you all my condolences and apology for this loss." Biyu bowed low to the gathering. Iris smiled weakly when Biyu returned to her seat, snuggling up against her side.

  Others spoke, most telling a brief story or expressing their grief. The house steward stood to talk, but he broke down in tears without a word and was helped back to his seat near Lord Emanuel by another mourner.

  Lord Sebastian stood. Unfriendly silence swept the crowd as all eyes turned to him. Coming to the effigy, he took a moment to contempte it, then looking down at them. His eyes lingered on Biyu and Iris, in Clio's guise, then looked at Lord Emanuel and his family.

  "None of this would have happened if you had not canceled the engagement," he said. That was all he said before he strolled back to his seat. People shifted uncomfortably. Lord Emanuel was apoplectic. The Priest of Gunthar who was in attendance sat with his jaw hung open at the audacity. Biyu felt, for just a moment, like she had misjudged him. That he was the anathema to the world she sought to rid it of. In her bones, she knew it was not true. She was just trying to convince herself it was. The feeling passed, but not her desire to hurt the man.

  The Priest, dressed in robes of grass dyed blue, took over the eulogy when everyone else had finished. He talked about Lady Isolde's charity work, her contributions and time in the orphanages the Temple ran, and his own personal friendship with the woman. His eyes were kind and sad, while his soft words carried to every ear in the courtyard. He was unashamed of his tears, which were a form of worship to his god Gunthar, who was also known as Compassion.

  When he had finished, he held up his hands for attention. "Viscount Lonelyknoll has kindly granted me the right to finish the rites, and so I bid you join me in the Final Words. 'We thank you for coming, Lady Isolde Lonelyknoll. Your time has come to an end. We send you now to Judgment, and pray the Heavens are open to you. Goodbye.'"

  As he spoke, the painting of Isolde was removed from the pyre along with a few other oddments. At his final words, repeated by most of those in attendance, he took a lit torch presented to him, and tossed it carefully onto the pyre, on top of the shroud. A Knight from the city guard with magical fire control took a seat to watch the pyre as a fire watch, along with the family and the Priest.

  All watched as the wood and oil soaked pyre lit and the fmes built. Once it went from fme to inferno, Lord Emanuel addressed his people. "In memory of my daughter, tomorrow will be a day of feasting and remembrance. Send out the criers. I will be opening my coffers. May no one go hungry!" The scribes passed runners their transcripts, and they sped from the courtyard to the criers in the city so that those who could not attend could hear details from the event.

  Iris leaned against Biyu as they stayed to watch the pyre in their seats. Her scarf covered her face, and Biyu could hear her sobbing. She slipped an arm around Iris, and pressed her comfortingly against herself.

  Striding over to stand over them, Lord Sebastian spoke. "Do you know what I was thinking while sitting through that sham? 'If she isn't dead, where would Isolde go?' Lady Vanessa made an excellent point. Of course, she would be with her 'hero'. I suppose you really did just happen to 'rescue' her. Not that she needed rescuing. That fshy woman people have seen you with, where is she?"

  "Lord Sebastian, you embarrass yourself with your constant accusations. Tell me, what would your father think seeing you acting like this?" Biyu asked as Iris gripped her arm tightly. Lord Herbert had a scowl as he watched, knowing that it was his sister and not Clio here. Lady Vanessa chastised him with a touch, while his mother, Crice, shook her head the faintest bit. Saying something now could put all of them in danger.

  Lord Sebastian leaned over them, his hand lifting to grab Biyu. "I am getting tired of the charade." Then a prism of energy appeared around him, and the Priest of Gunthar glowered at the Archduke's son.

  "This is a memorial, Lord Sebastian. No god would sanction this behavior, least of all Lord Compassion. Until the pyre burns out, these grounds are under his protection. Continue, and the god's wrath will be upon you."

  Lord Sebastian gred at the Priest before turning it to Biyu. "I will have my satisfaction. This ends now. I challenge you to a duel."

  "Lord Sebastian, you have insulted me repeatedly since we first met. You have insulted the Viscount's family and made baseless cims about their character. You have repeatedly disrespected the dead. At her own Memorial, you do this. Lord Sebastian, you are a disgrace. I refuse your duel. So far you have shown no honor or dignity to protect. I will not sully mine by indulging a mewling babe. Could I do so without tempting the wrath of Archduke Marble, I would love to kill you. I weep for your family having to acknowledge you. Fortunately, I do not. To me, you are no member of the Marble family."

  The Archduke's son's eyes bulged at her words. He glowered and lifted a finger to point at her. "I will make you pay for your disrespect, bitch." Biyu could just feel the air around her swirl as the man began a technique.

  "Leave!" roared the Priest. No one touched him, but Lord Sebastian was thrown from the courtyard bodily. The guards, Knights and soldiers, took arms against Lord Sebastian's guards while blockading the gate. The Priest stared after the man, disbelief on his face. He turned towards Biyu and gave her a bow. "Accept my apologies. I should have ejected that fool when he offered that eulogy. People come to a Memorial to remember and honor the dead. Such disrespect."

  Biyu offered the Priest a small, polite smile. "Thank you, Priest. Your help is appreciated, but the apology is unnecessary. I fear I may have said a little too much, even if his every action demands retribution." Biyu felt a twinge in her soul, but she ignored it. Did it still count as retribution for the dead if only the identity died, changing the circumstances of their life?

  She remembered a room, alone, where she was alive but did not live. The twinge came again as she thought that, yes, it did. Ah, the man had earned retribution, but not death. Her soul sang in agreement. Angry, violent whispers begged to be let free from a corner of her soul.

  "Not at all," the Priest said, pulling Biyu from her ruminations. "I shall be writing a letter to his father about his disgraceful behavior. It is good he was cut from the line of succession, but it would be better if they could disown him altogether." He shook his head. "Men like him have a nasty habit of plotting for power they cannot hold, leading to the ruin of everyone around them. For now, he is a man with status. Take care of yourself. My power of protection is limited to this pce and time."

  Biyu bowed to the Priest. She and Iris sat watching the pyre along with Lord Emanuel and his family. He was still red-faced, shooting scowls at the gate every once in a while. Lady Vanessa was stiff, too angry to make small talk. Crice held her peace, watching the pyre sadly. Lord Herbert was doing his best not to look at Iris, and gave up on his vigil to speak with the guard about what to do should Lord Sebastian return.

  Derrick, who was with Lord Sebastian earlier, came to Biyu and Iris. He smiled at them, giving a short bow. "Defender Elderwoods and… Clio, was it? I am Derrick Noveljoys, if you do not know me. My condolences. Also, though I know this is neither the time nor pce, but my congratutions! You recently took in a concubine, did you not, Defender Elderwoods?" At a nod, his smile widened. "Very good! I have a gift for you, then, as is appropriate for such an occasion! Please, allow me to deliver it in person. I would love the opportunity to present you my gift myself, and acquaint you with my many fine wares."

  Crice spoke up, after confirming Biyu would allow her to. "Thank you, we will make arrangements to receive you in the next few days. I should warn you, they are staying as guests of Lady Tabitha. They are not a family of means like those you usually purvey goods to."

  Derrick waved a hand dismissively. "Miss Crice, I assure you I have a wide variety of wares for all manner of budgets. However, that is just too unkind. Yes, I am a merchant, but even I am intrigued by a noble dy who rushes to the aid of a complete stranger. Surely, you can see the novelty?" He then ducked his head. "But, you are mourning, and I'm not as uncouth as my patron. Again, my condolences."

  After the fire burned down, only the family remained. Biyu asked Lord Emanuel, "Should I make myself avaible for Lord Sebastian to attack? He will surely turn to force of arms, if given the opportunity."

  "You intend to enact that pn of yours? Baiting him into making the first move is dangerous. Are you certain of victory?"

  "He is a noble, and no Knight. I was trained to be a hunter and a warrior. However, I will abide by your decision if you think him beyond me. Besides which, I am not familiar enough with the politics of the region to be confident that my pn will have the outcome I intend it to."

  Lord Emanuel looked at Biyu hard for a long moment. "Your pn is within the expectations of Southern nobles. If you can humiliate the bastard, then please do it. I am angry enough at the disrespect he has shown my daughter, and my family, that I would like to stab him myself. Only the Archduke's rebuke stays my hand, and I think he would do the absolute least dignity demands were I to kill his son. If I was certain Archduke Marble would look the other way, I would arrange an 'accident'."

  Biyu gave a bow. "Please, allow… Clio to stay in your care. I will begin as soon as I have changed." May saluted the family, fist to chest. They left the compound with an honor guard.

  Biyu and May had a long conversation over the blessing to confirm their pns for the confrontation with Lord Sebastian. The most important part was where they could confront Lord Sebastian with minimal risk of colteral damage. Biyu was certain that a fight was unavoidable now. A safe pce for Transcendents to fight was important. They could do a great deal of damage, and she did not want uninvolved citizens to get caught up in a noble tantrum.

  They chose the tournament grounds south of the city. It was a clear, uncultivated parcel of nd where the Order and the citizenry would compete in games as a public spectacle, and as a trial for hopefuls wishing to join the county Order or the guards. Even the most exclusive noble admitted there were talents among the peasantry. Workmen were setting up for the st of the year's tournaments, constructing stands and roping off paths to control the flow of traffic. Biyu sent May to warn them about the upcoming fight as she milled on the field reserved for melees.

  Not long after they arrived, a force of a dozen soldiers and Lord Sebastian approached them. Biyu had not felt him arriving through her curse. Checking with her [Wizard Eye], Biyu saw that only Lord Sebastian was Awakened. And, her curse was gone, repced by another little blessing.

  Lord Sebastian looked around at the field, annoyed. "Where is… I think you called her 'Clio'? And that other Elf, not to mention my Isolde. Really, you should bring the prizes with you. Oh, under the care of a neutral party, of course, or someone might assume you will renege."

  "There are no prizes, Lord Sebastian. I am simply taking a walk with my bodyguard," Biyu replied.

  Lord Sebastian sneered. "You have tried my patience Defender. Give me my women. All three of them."

  Biyu gnced at May, who had returned from speaking with the workmen. "May, I think they are trying to rob us."

  "I think they are, Master. They must be brigands," May replied.

  The soldiers readied themselves. Lord Sebastian grimaced. "I am not a brigand."

  Biyu gred at him. "Lord Sebastian, if you continue to act like a brigand, I will be forced to treat you as one. Go home. There is nothing for you here."

  He lifted a hand, and Biyu could barely feel the trickle of power. Clicking her tongue, she prepared to receive the blow. When it came, there was fire and wind that sent her hair and clothes bustling, but her hardened body withstood the explosion easily. The soldiers, hearing the signal to start, unched themselves at May.

  Should I cripple them, Master?, May asked.

  Kill them. Our lives are more valuable than their passage to Judgment, Biyu said.

  One of the soldier's heads staved in. A second soldier was spped in the side with a sword and thrown across the tournament grounds. The soldiers turned to face May as she stood among them, and then she was gone. Another soldier had the side of his knee crushed, his leg colpsing under him.

  Discord was sown in May's wake. Biyu and Lord Sebastian faced each other. He stalked toward her, drawing his own sword, and Biyu watched as he attempted a technique on the bde. She let it go, inspecting it. It did not seem particurly powerful, but she cked experience to properly judge it. While she had sparred with the Fming Axes, their techniques were far more refined than what he was dispying. Biyu suspected this technique was strictly aesthetic, as a fme appeared along the length of the bde.

  Lord Sebastian attacked with an inelegant two-handed downward cut. Biyu stepped aside, and the sword missed her entirely. She had not drawn her weapons yet. "Intimidated?" he asked, but Biyu felt May dispatch another—no, two more soldiers. He began to move faster, his sword work clumsy with too much power and not enough skill. Biyu continued to dodge his overcommitted swings. "Can you even fight?"

  Another swing missed her, and she checked May. She was having fun, despite the grisly business. Biyu stepped in as Lord Sebastian performed another overcommitted strike, and she punched him in the face using a minimum of her increased strength. He shouted out in rage as she broke his nose, and tried to retaliate. Biyu slid under the wild swing and smacked him across the face with an open hand. The man continued to rage. Another technique started, but Biyu dodged while tripping the man into his own explosion. He screamed angrily.

  Three more soldiers died, and the survivors were panicking. One of them tried to flee, but May appeared before him to sy him with a single strike that took off his head. Only half the soldiers remained, and they were all wounded and demoralized. The one or two able to keep track of their lord realized he was being toyed with.

  After another wild swing, one with no form whatsoever, Biyu struck his wrist with some of her enhanced strength and forced him to drop his sword. The fme went out as he stood there staring darkly at her. Blood dripped from his nose, and one of his eyes had been bckened, but otherwise he showed little damage.

  "We surrender," one of the soldiers decred.

  "No, you don't! Fight, damn you!" Lord Sebastian shouted.

  Biyu spped the man. "Your list of vices are too heavy. You can see that you will not win. Do not disgrace yourself further by letting them die pointlessly. Surrender."

  "You're the disgrace," Lord Sebastian sneered. "Not listening to your betters. Not giving me what I want like you should."

  "You learned nothing about being a noble," Biyu concluded. "I am sorry," she said, lowering her head to the soldiers.

  May killed another soldier. Five remained. The soldiers no longer fought, dropping to their knees, their weapons forgotten as they stared at their executioner with tears in their eyes. May smiled at them sadly. "Don't worry. Master will make sure your families are taken care of. We know that fool won't." Then she switched to her shorter, sharper sword and killed them one after another.

  As she did, Lord Sebastian went after Biyu with his fists. Biyu barely bothered to fight back as she felt her soul grow full of the new dozen in her Hell. The vice of collecting them was not, could not, be hers. She did not command them to attack her. It was not her will that they die to the st man. Perhaps she could have granted them the mercy by crippling them, but that mercy would leave a battlefield littered with semi-capable combatants that could still fight and had all the reason to.

  "You do not value the life of your subordinates, do you?" Biyu asked.

  Lord Sebastian did not answer as he swung at her again. And missed.

  With the soldiers all sin, May strode over to them while sheathing her sword. Practicing with the pace guards, and teaching her squire Bert, had helped polish her techniques. Without thinking, she stepped where she wanted without having to step in that direction. Appearing beside Lord Sebastian, she struck him with a fist before stepping to the other side to strike him again while Biyu stepped back to watch. Biyu told May when he was trying to use a technique on her. Soon, the man was beaten and bruised and kneeling on the ground. He was battered, but otherwise unharmed.

  "Just finish it already," Lord Sebastian said.

  "Very well." She checked that there were guards among the crowd gathered to watch the fight. "Lord Sebastian, I take you prisoner. By the ws of the Empire, you have attempted to rob me, dishonored my allies, and have given me insult after insult. I decre you a brigand."

  She turned to the guard. "Send for Viscount Lonelyknoll, so that he may serve Archduke Marble by paying ransom and escorting Lord Sebastian home. You, workmen, help my retainer strip the dead of their possessions and prepare a pyre."

  It did not take long for Lord Emanuel and his son Lord Herbert to arrive. Both had been prepared to come when Biyu announced her intention to see her pn through. Both had wide smiles as they came to parley with Biyu.

  "Defender Elderwoods, I have heard tell that you have taken Lord Sebastian as a prisoner. I come to parley his ransom, as a subject of Archduke Marble. With me, I have brought a force of hundred soldiers, to provide him escort home. Surely, Archduke Marble will want to hear about his poor behavior and banditry."

  "Before that," Biyu said. She drew out an ingot of high steel. Recognizing it, Lord Sebastian stared dumbstruck. "This is my blood price for the soldiers we were forced to kill. They did not deserve to serve such a fool." The Viscount took the ingot reverently. He likely could raise several dozen himself, but it was still a rare and valuable piece of currency. That she paid a blood price from her own purse, before parley, and such a rge amount, sent a susurration through the escorts and crowd. "In addition, please have their equipment delivered to their next of kin." She indicated the stacks of armor, weapons, and personal items.

  "I will note it in the letter I send along with Lord Sebastian," Lord Emanuel said gravely. "What price do you seek for his return?"

  "First, I exercise my right to confiscate a brigand's property. His sves will be given to me. I would also demand an apology, but I do not think Lord Sebastian is capable of a sincere one. For ransom, I seek five ingots steel, guest rights should we come to the city again, and I have need of an oxcart and oxen." That was less than what she had offered in blood price for each of the soldiers.

  Considering her, Viscount Lonelyknoll said, "My wife has mentioned that you may have need of a house of your own soon. Rather than simple guest rights, I can grant you a residence in the noble quarter in perpetuity as part of the recompense. It would not do to tell Archduke Marble his son was valued that little, and I still do owe you a favor."

  There was only one reason she would need a house, so the offer made her wary. However, she could not refuse when the ransom was increased, so she bowed as she accepted the generous offer. Giving Anya a house so far from her hold had implications, which might insult her. Perhaps the kindness would backfire. "I am honored, Viscount Lonelyknoll. I accept wholeheartedly, and hope our friendship sts three generations."

  Viscount Lonelyknoll bowed to Biyu, an honor as he outranked her. "Thank you for being so reasonable. I know my word has come into doubt tely, but will you accept my guarantee to honor this deal?" Another dig at Lord Sebastian.

  Biyu bowed deeper in return. "Of course, Viscount Lonelyknoll. I know you to be true to your word."

  That settled, there was the matter of letters being written, and bodies being disposed of. As Lord Emanuel took care of the missives, Biyu turned her attention to the bodies collected on the pyre, ready to be burned.

  Taking command of the funerary services, she contempted the bodies as they id on the wood. For each one, she reached into herself, and found the soul that came from it. She tried to draw them out, attaching them to the bodies before her, and breaking her connection to them. To her surprise, it worked. Each of the souls settled in their body, and she could feel them respond when she performed the Calling of the Deceased. Biyu said a common Eulogy, only embellishing it with a mentation that they should come to such ends. As she said the Final Words, those in attendance bowed their heads and followed along. She lit the pyre, and stood the watch along with a few of the workmen.

  Thirty minutes ter Lord Emanuel dispatched one of his official messengers with Lord Sebastian south to his home city. They stayed to watch the completion of the pyre. Biyu felt compelled by duty as she felt the ephemeral eastern wind blow. Lord Emanuel kept them company, and Lord Herbert accompanied him. In good cheer after the victory, May and Biyu escorted Viscount Lonelyknoll home during the early evening hours.

  Within the Lesser Pace, Lord Emanuel thanked Biyu for her help before escorting her, Iris, and Chattel to Isolde's room to take whatever they wished to. Iris picked a few pieces of jewelry, combs, and a brush. Biyu put a comforting hand on her shoulder as she stared at a tortoiseshell comb. Iris managed a smile before selecting a single gown as her st item. Chattel carried their items as they returned to their residence. Iris gave a brief, sad look at the door as it clicked closed behind them, the st thread of her old life snipped off.