Chapter 5: Hostile Takeover

Frankie

Morning did not improve the place.

Mara led me down from the fortress along a road that looked like somebody had paved it with mud and regret. For ten minutes, I watched where I stepped. After that, I stopped caring.

“You people ever hear of cobblestones?”

Mara looked down at the road.

“There are stones.”

“Not what I meant. This is somewhere between a road and a river of mud.”

“This is just what roads look like, my lord.”

“Frankie. Nobody’s around.”

“Right. Sorry, my—Frankie.”

The town sat below the fortress, packed between fields and a narrow river. From up on the hill, it hadn’t looked too bad. Up close was different. A few chickens scratched between the houses. One goat stood tied to a post, skinny enough that I could count its ribs. That was about it. No cattle. No horses. No wagons being pulled by anything with four legs. I watched two men drag a loaded cart down the street themselves.

“Where’s all the livestock?”

“The governor’s collectors took them,” Mara said.

Maybe this was just how people lived here. I’d never been to the Dark Ages before. For all I knew, everybody was supposed to look miserable. Then I started noticing things. Empty pens. Fields that should’ve been planted and weren’t. Roofs patched with old boards and scraps of cloth. Children without shoes. People with that hollow look you got when dinner stopped being something you expected every day. Half the market stalls were empty. The other half weren’t doing much better.

One woman had six onions laid out on a blanket.

That was the whole store.

I slowed.

“Was it always like this?”

“No.”

Mara said it quietly. I looked at her. She kept walking.

“How long?”

“Since Lord Kilkenny began increasing the collections.”

What Lord Azrath required, and what the governor required. She’d made the same distinction last night. We passed a boarded-up shop. Then another. A blacksmith’s hammer rang somewhere farther down the street.

At least somebody still had work.

Then the road widened. And suddenly there were horses. Three of them. Good horses, too. They stood behind a stone wall surrounding a two-story house with shutters, glass windows, and two smoking chimneys. A pig rooted around inside a pen. Barrels were stacked beneath an awning. Two big orcs stood by the front door wearing iron armor cleaner than anything I’d seen since leaving the fortress.

I looked back at the empty stalls and skinny kids, then at the horses behind that wall. Mara stopped beside me.

“That’s Kilkenny’s place?”

“Yes.”

By Chicago standards, it was still a dump. By local standards, the son of a bitch had a penthouse.

“Horses, pig, barrels—all his?”

“Yes.”

I rubbed my jaw. Maybe medieval people were poor. Maybe that part wasn’t anybody’s fault. But somehow the guy collecting all the money had figured out how not to be.

That part I understood just fine.

I started toward the house. Mara hurried after me.

“What are you going to do?”

“Ask a couple questions.”

One of the orcs noticed us coming and stepped away from the door. Mara’s voice dropped.

“And if he refuses to answer?”

I adjusted my jacket.

“I’m not much of a talker, but my friend Colt is very persuasive.”

She glanced around.

“I don’t see your friend.”

“And neither will Lord Kilkenny unless he needs to.”

The orc put one hand against my chest.

“State your business.”

“I got questions for Kilkenny.”

“Lord Kilkenny.”

“Sure.”

His hand didn’t move. Behind him, the second orc looked me over and laughed. I was getting tired of orcs laughing at me. Mara stepped forward.

“This is Sir Francesco Moretti, servant of Lord Azrath.”

I looked at her. Sir Francesco. We’d work on that too. The first orc looked less impressed than I’d hoped.

“Never heard of him.”

“Yeah, I just got here through a magic portal.”

The orc nodded as if that made perfect sense.

Was everyone here insane?

He shoved the door open just far enough to stick his head inside. A minute later, we were allowed in. Allowed was generous. Escorted felt closer. The house smelled like roast meat, smoke, and somebody else’s money. Rugs covered the floor. Real rugs. Silver cups sat on a sideboard. A servant carried a platter past us with enough food on it to feed the onion lady for a week. I stopped watching the servant when Lord Kilkenny entered.

He was human, with a big stomach, soft hands, and a purple robe trimmed in fur. He looked exactly like every politician and capo I’d ever met who’d never once carried his own luggage. Fat on everybody else’s work. I hated guys like this. A boss could take his cut. That was the arrangement. But if your people were starving while you got fat, you weren’t running a neighborhood.

You were eating it.

“Who are you?”

“Frankie Moretti.”

Nothing.

“Mara says you handle collections.”

His eyes moved to her.

“Why is Lord Azrath’s servant outside the castle?”

Mara immediately lowered her head. I didn’t like that.

“First of all, because she’s mine. Second of all, answer my questions.”

Kilkenny looked back at me.

“And why should that concern me?”

“Because I’m asking you now.”

His face tightened.

“Leave.”

I smiled.

“See, that’s not really an answer.”

“I do not answer to you.”

“Who do you answer to?”

“Lord Azrath.”

“Good. Me too. We got something in common.”

He turned toward the guards.

“Remove him.”

I knew the steps to this dance. The first orc grabbed my shoulder. I drew the Colt.

The room exploded.

First shot caught him high in the chest. He staggered but didn’t fall. That was concerning. I fired again. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Then the second one hit me like I’d stepped in front of a Buick. I went across the room and crashed into the sideboard. Silver went everywhere. My ribs lit up. The bruises from yesterday were still fresh. I was slower than I thought. Stupid me, always opening my yap. The orc came at me with an axe.

An actual goddamn axe. Yesterday I’d been worried about federal agents.

I missed federal agents.

I rolled. The blade buried itself in the wood where my head had been. I fired twice from the floor. The second shot took him through the throat. He dropped beside me. The first orc got back up. Somehow. Son of a bitch, they grew them big out here. I put three rounds into him before he finally understood the arrangement and fell over. Silence. My ears rang. Something warm ran down the side of my face. I touched it. Blood. Wonderful.

I got up slowly. One of my ribs objected. So did my shoulder. My suit had a tear near the elbow. That bothered me more than it should’ve. Kilkenny had backed against the wall. Mara stood exactly where I’d left her. Her mouth was open. I checked the Colt. One round left. I made a note to start rationing ammunition until I figured out how the hell these people made gunpowder.

Never had I been more grateful for my gunsmithing hobby.

I looked at Kilkenny.

“Now.”

I limped toward him.

“Where were we?”

His voice shook.

“You murdered my guards.”

“They tried to throw me out.”

“I will tell Lord Azrath.”

“Tell him whatever you want.”

“You have no authority here.”

That one interested me. I pointed at the black iron badge hanging from a chain around his neck.

“What’s that?”

“The seal of my office.”

“Take it off.”

His hand closed around it.

“No.”

I raised the Colt. He didn’t know I had one bullet left. He took it off. Smart man. I held out my hand. He dropped the badge into it. Heavy thing. Black metal stamped with Azrath’s skull. I tucked it into my pocket. Kilkenny stared.

“What are you doing?”

“Hostile takeover.”

“I do not know what that means.”

“Let me show you.”

I grabbed him by the back of his robe and marched him toward the front door. He protested the whole way. Threats. Titles. Lord Azrath this. Lord Azrath that. I opened the door and threw him into the street. The town noticed. A carter stopped with his hands still on the shafts. The onion lady got up from her blanket.

Even the pig looked interested.

Kilkenny pushed himself out of the mud.

“You will hang for this!”

“Maybe. Doubt it, though. Bosses hate incompetence more than housecleaning.”

Then I saw Elias. He stood near the market with his father. The kid recognized me immediately.

“Sir Francesco?”

I sighed.

“Kid.”

His eyes moved from me to Kilkenny. Then to the blood on my face. I made sure Elias and the people around him could hear me.

“He’s not governor anymore.”

Nobody moved. Kilkenny laughed nervously.

“You cannot simply—”

“He ain’t under the Boss’s protection either.”

That did it. Nobody shouted; people just started walking toward him. Kilkenny looked around.

For the first time since I’d met him, he understood his neighborhood.

He ran. Didn’t get far.

I turned away. Mara didn’t.

I let the town handle its own bookkeeping.

Then I climbed onto the governor’s front steps.

“All right.”

Nobody heard me over Lord Kilkenny’s screams. I fired my last round into the air. That worked. Every face turned. The Colt was empty now. Nobody else needed to know that.

“Listen up.”

The crowd went quiet.

“Until I figure out how badly this idiot screwed things up, I’m running collections.”

A murmur moved through them.

“You kick up to me. I kick up to the Boss. Nobody takes anything from anybody without going through me first.”

I pointed toward the empty market.

“I’m gonna look at the books. Talk to people. Figure out what this place can actually afford.”

Nobody spoke. I looked at all those skinny faces.

“Things are gonna change.”

Mara stared at me from below the steps. So did Elias. I adjusted my torn sleeve.

“They’re gonna be all right.”

Somebody cheered. The rest took it up.

Lord Kilkenny’s screams stopped.

I immediately regretted the speech.

The walk back to the fortress hurt more than the walk down.

Every step reminded me that orcs had fists. Mara noticed. She didn’t say anything. Smart girl. By the time we reached the gates, Shiiruk was waiting. His face had healed enough that he could sneer properly again. That was unfortunate.

“Lord Azrath demands your presence.”

I looked at Mara.

“That didn’t take long.”

Shiiruk smiled.

“I informed him of your treason.”

Of course he did.

There was always one guy in every organization who confused tattling with ambition.

I followed him inside. Azrath sat on his throne, green fire burning quietly in his eyes. Kilkenny’s badge felt considerably heavier in my pocket than it had an hour earlier. Shiiruk stopped before the throne.

“My lord, the Eye-Tali-An murdered Governor Kilkenny’s guards, stole his seal, and delivered him to the peasants.”

Azrath looked at me.

“Is this true?”

“Mostly.”

Shiiruk’s grin widened. I pulled the badge from my pocket.

“Kilkenny was robbing you.”

Silence. Shiiruk’s grin disappeared. Azrath leaned forward.

“Explain.”

I told him about the empty farms and boarded shops, then about the horses in Kilkenny’s yard and the food on his table.

“Guy was squeezing the place dry.”

Azrath tapped one finger against the arm of his throne.

“He increased tribute.”

“He increased his tribute.”

The green flames sharpened. I kept going.

“We talked about next year’s tribute, Boss. Kilkenny was already eating it.”

I pointed toward Shiiruk.

“And then some genius comes running up here wondering why heroes keep showing up.”

Shiiruk bristled. Azrath ignored him.

“You removed Kilkenny without permission.”

“Yeah.”

“You assumed his office.”

“He was making my job harder. So I figured why not do his job and make my life easier.”

“You permitted his subjects to kill him.”

I shrugged.

“He wasn’t under your protection anymore. No badge. No protection.”

For several seconds, nobody spoke. Then Azrath laughed. Shiiruk looked horrified. I relaxed about half an inch. Azrath extended one skeletal hand.

“The seal.”

I handed it over. Green fire spread across the iron. Runes appeared around the edge. The metal pulsed once. Then went cold. Azrath returned it to me.

“What’d you do?”

“Corrected an administrative oversight.”

That sounded bad.

“Meaning?”

“The seal now carries my authority.”

I stared at it.

“How much authority?”

“Enough.”

That answered nothing. A scraping sound came from behind me. I turned. Two skeletons walked into the chamber. Big ones. One still had part of an orc tusk attached to its jaw.

“No.”

Azrath tilted his skull.

“Yes.”

“Those are Kilkenny’s guards.”

“Were. Now your guards.”

One skeleton straightened. Then the other. Azrath gestured toward me.

“They were assigned to the governor.”

“I see where this is going.”

“You are the governor.”

“Temporary governor.”

“The dead are rarely concerned with duration.”

One of the skeletons saluted me. I took a step back. That thing had tried to put an axe through my skull less than an hour ago. Now it was waiting for orders. I couldn’t decide whether to be terrified or impressed.

“Can they understand me?”

“Perfectly.”

“Stand over there,” I told the nearest one.

It did. I pointed somewhere else.

“Now over there.”

It obeyed again. No payroll, no complaints, no sleep.

That was disturbing. Also efficient.

Shiiruk cleared his throat.

“My lord, surely this criminal—”

Azrath turned toward him.

The chamber went cold.

“You interrupted my studies.”

Shiiruk froze.

“To report that my newest servant discovered corruption, protected my future tribute, eliminated an incompetent governor, and assumed responsibility for his territory.”

Shiiruk swallowed.

“I thought—”

“That appears to have been your first mistake.”

Azrath raised one finger. Two skeletons seized Shiiruk. His face changed.

“My lord?”

“Twenty lashes.”

“What?”

“For wasting my time. Think harder next time.”

They dragged him toward the door. Shiiruk twisted around. His good eye found mine. I smiled.

“See you around.”

He disappeared down the corridor. Azrath settled back into his throne.

“Eye-Tali-An.”

“Yeah, Boss?”

“Continue.”

I looked at the enchanted badge. Then at my two dead orcs. Then toward the doorway where Shiiruk had vanished.

For once, I had absolutely no complaints.