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Before the Storm: Act 11, Chapter 14
🕑 Added 2025-08-04 06:36:58 +0000 UTC“Sorry.”
His apology was met with silence.
“I’ll pay you back.”
Countess Beaumont’s glistening blue eyes flashed in fury.
“Pay me back?”
“The temple charged you a lot, yeah? I didn’t even need all of the healing they threw at me.”
The young noblewoman placed her hands on his bed as she leaned in toward him.
“That is not what I am angry about!” She hissed, “I was beside myself with worry when I learned you had been admitted to the temple for healing, and then I come in and find those Acolytes draped all over you!”
“I didn’t ask for them!”
Temple prostitution was a normal thing, but the cathedral in Re-Blumrushur was the first place where he had seen it pushed so aggressively.
In the Faith of the Six, it was a sacred duty that eligible individuals could perform for various purposes. The day-to-day stuff, which helped to keep bloodlines untangled, was done by dedicated professionals who counted as members of the temple staff. It was also a part of the temples’ matchmaking system, through which carefully-cultivated lineages could be ‘retained’ from those who weren’t interested in raising a family. Additionally, with information collected by the system, matches could be found for those who wished to have children, but were disinterested in marriage or in situations where normal relationships weren’t feasible.
In all, the system was of great benefit to society, bolstering it with stronger individuals who would not otherwise have been born if left to the whims of chance and irresponsible lust.
The cathedral in Re-Blumrushur, by contrast, displayed none of that purposeful intent when it came to its system of temple prostitution. According to the Acolytes who came after him, it was a legitimate form of worship and almsgiving. As far as he could tell, all it did was contribute to the cathedral’s coffers. Maybe some of it did go to helping those in need, but the senior temple staff definitely couldn’t afford to dress the way they did through acts of faith and charity.
At best, temple operations when it came to their ‘sacred prostitution’ could be described as a sort of brothel where one could expect higher standards of hygiene and fewer criminal connections. All at a higher price, of course. It almost certainly outperformed its competitors when it came to fulfilling fantasies of ‘pure’ Priestesses and nubile nuns.
Decadence. Decadence and wickedness.
No two words better described it. The heretics had fallen so far from the true faith that the only recognisable thing about them was the four gods they supposedly worshipped.
“You may not have asked for them,” Lady Beaumont said, “but you all looked quite pleased with yourselves when I entered the chamber.”
“I wasn’t pleased,” Liam said. “And I didn’t do anything with them! I would have returned to the manor right away if Vicar Emberson hadn’t insisted that I stay put for observation.”
“…were you hurt that badly?”
“Of course not! Like I said, I didn’t need any healing. That greedy Priest just wanted to squeeze as much coin as he could out of House Beaumont. Why would people who just got magically healed need ‘observation’ after that?”
“But it happens all the time,” the young noblewoman said.
Maybe it happened all the time because people wanted to enjoy the cathedral’s ‘hospitality’, but that had nothing to do with magical healing.
After Liam assured the Vicar that he would remain to rest in his provided chambers, a buxom girl with golden curls came in with a warm smile and a hot meal complete with spiced wine. The food had a peculiar taste to it, but if they had added something, he resisted its effects. Once he polished off his plate, the girl sat down beside him, placing a hand on his lap and telling him that she was delighted to be sharing the Earth God’s blessings with him that night. Much to her confusion and dismay, he declined, saying that the battle had already exhausted him.
Not half an hour later, a tall, fiery redhead barged into the room, proclaiming that their night would be filled with the Flamelord’s passion. Liam spun her around and shoved her back out, mumbling something about having a headache.
Liam couldn’t tell who the third girl represented because she charged in with barely anything on and threw herself straight at him. She was the smallest of them all, yet he had to fend her off with one of his boots. When he woke up the next morning, he found that all three had snuck into his bed anyway. It was then that the Countess walked in on him with Claire in tow.
I hope my next assignment is in a non-Human country.
He lightly placed a hand on the young noblewoman’s shoulder, gently moving her back before swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress.
“Did anything big happen overnight?” Liam asked as he leaned forward and felt around under the bed for his boots.
“Nothing like the battle,” the Countess answered. “Just before dawn, representatives from House Blumrush visited everyone in the upper city to organise policing forces for the city.”
“How did that turn out?”
“The division of duties was rather straightforward,” Lady Beaumont said. “House Blumrush will continue to man the castle and the inner city defences, while the lower city has been partitioned into sectors for each of the March’s factions. House Beaumont and its allies are responsible for the southern fortifications and the nearby blocks of the city.”
Isn’t that a bit too perfect?
Once the rebels came around, they could just let them walk in. Better yet, they could infiltrate the city before staging their attack.
“Will you be able to handle it?”
“I-I’m not sure,” the young noblewoman admitted. “When it comes to the administration of a fief, I am at least somewhat confident, but…well, I figured that the security of the city could be left to my Sergeants.”
“That’s not a bad idea, my lady.”
It was far better than having a brash, inexperienced Noble filled with delusions of grandeur running around searching for chances to look heroic. That wasn’t to say that Nobles weren’t capable of leading the policing of a city – the ones in the Draconic Kingdom did perfectly fine, after all – but the Azerlisian Marches raised an entirely different breed.
He pondered what that meant for the city in the coming days. House Blumrush had always ruled the city with an iron fist, but now that rule would effectively be divided between aristocrats of varying quality. Each house would likely run their respective areas of the city like their own fiefs, similar to how the Nobles from the southern Holy Kingdom did when they came to oversee things in the north.
While many of the citizens would suffer, the result wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The people would quickly form opinions about each faction and the Nobles within it, which could in turn be manipulated and exploited for the Sorcerous Kingdom’s advantage.
“We can talk about this after we get back to the manor,” Liam said as he finally found both of his boots. “How do we get out of here?”
“I’ve already paid for your…treatment,” Lady Beaumont sniffed. “My carriage is parked near the cathedral stables.”
Is she still mad at me?
He didn’t think he would ever be able to find any peace when it came to girls. They just arbitrarily decided things and then got angry over them. It was even worse when they got happy about something, and then angry.
A pair of Acolytes escorted them through the cathedral grounds to the Countess’ carriage. Liam gazed out of his window as they rolled off, watching the clergy of the district minister to the sick and needy.
“Does Vicar Emberson ever come out to minister to the people?” He asked.
“I don’t recall him ever doing so,” the Countess answered. “Someone of his stature is far too busy overseeing the operations of the cathedral to participate.”
“Temple operations, huh…”
“Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” Liam replied. “When do you have to start working in the city?”
“Me?”
“Your armsmen are illiterate as far as the standards of civic enforcement are concerned,” Liam told her. “You don’t have any household staff capable of administering the law. Who else is going to do all that?”
“But…I can’t do it all by myself!”
“Your whole faction was assigned along with you, weren’t they?”
“They won’t want to come out,” the Countess said.
“They don’t have a choice. I don’t know what you’re imagining, but it probably won’t be that bad.”
“Probably?”
“Look,” Liam said, “people are pretty pessimistic in places like this, but that’s mostly because they’re trying to survive. They’ll assume the worst, but if things aren’t as bad as they fear, they’ll just carry on with their lives. If the people know they’re being treated fairly, they might even start liking you.”
“Hardly any commoner would look favourably upon someone upholding Blumrush’s laws,” the Countess said.
“Aren’t the verdicts mostly a matter of legal interpretation?”
“I suppose…”
“Then interpret the laws in your own way,” Liam said. “It’s only for a few days, anyway. If Lord Reginald wants to ‘catch up’ on missed punishments, he can do it himself. Not that he’ll be in power for much longer.”
That was the assumption, at least. He still didn’t have anything beyond some vague notions about the coming war’s timeline, but it was bound to begin soon.
The two armsmen at the manor gate saluted as the carriage rolled through. Another came to open the carriage door, and three more walked over from their archery practice in the yard. One of them gave Liam a knowing leer.
“Enjoy yourself?”
Lady Beaumont flounced away with an affronted sniff. Claire tried to kick him as she followed her mistress into the manor.
“How’d you guys do?” Liam asked.
“Pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. When the sun came up, there were so many dead mercs on High Street you couldn’t see the cobblestones.”
“Seven or eight hundred dead, I reckon.”
“More’n that. We kept at ‘em from the city wall ‘til they got outta range.”
“Did we lose anyone?”
“Naw. They could barely see what was hittin’ ‘em. A few tried crawlin’ up after us. Bad idea.”
Liam nodded in approval. Things had gone about as well as he had hoped.
“Good job,” he said. “The Nobles got their faces smashed in last night, so they’ll probably use this to feel better about themselves. Let them talk things up. Oh, Lord Reginald’s putting us to work for a few days.”
“Already heard. Lady Beaumont’s already sent half of us to the wall. I guess it’s a good thing, but we’re still all confused as shit.”
“I bet.”
From woodsmen to outlaws to law enforcement. Lady Beaumont’s men had gone through quite a journey.
“We’ll get things sorted out,” Liam said. “It sounds to me like one of Blumrush’s men suddenly popped up this morning and just told her to do it.”
Inside, Liam caught up with the Countess in her solar as she collected her things. Two whole sacks of belongings were already sitting on her desk, and it looked like she was trying to add more.
“You don’t need that much stuff,” Liam said. “Just some stationery and a dagger.”
Lady Beaumont looked up from her desk drawer.
“A dagger? You told me that it ‘probably won’t be that bad’.”
“It won’t be,” Liam assured her. “And doesn’t everyone carry a dagger? At any rate, who are you taking with you?”
“Baroness Illerand should be the easiest to bring along,” the Countess said. “How many officials do we need?”
“You’re going to have to divide them into shifts,” Liam said. “At least one nobleman has to be on each shift.”
The young noblewoman stuck out her lower lip in a dissatisfied pout. She had no choice but to accept his advice, however. In Re-Estize, women weren’t taken anywhere near as seriously as men, even by other women. One who presented herself as an authority figure could invite outright scorn. In their current situation, they needed to balance out the expectations of softness from women with the hardness assumed of men.
“I suppose Viscount Ranford should do,” Lady Beaumont said. “Or should someone of his rank be overseeing his own shift?”
“No, that’s good,” Liam replied. “You should figure out how you’re going to do things before splitting up. Having different shifts acting in different ways might make a mess.”
“Very well,” the Countess said. “I will send someone ahead of us.”
Once they were back out of the manor, Lady Beaumont’s carriage sped them straight to Baroness Illerand’s place. They found the younger noblewoman doing the same thing that Countess Beaumont had been doing, filling several bags as if she were going on a long journey.
“Illerand,” Lady Beaumont said, “You’ll likely be back by dinner.”
“But…but what if something happens?”
“Then you will be back before dinner.”
The Baroness whimpered, but voiced no further complaints. She could spare but a single armsman: a greying guy with a limp who had been around since her father was a boy, though his enthusiasm to serve his lady made him seem much younger.
Their next destination was the manor of Viscount Ranford, which wasn’t far from the inner city gate. It was about as large as Baroness Illerand’s place, which made it about half as large as Countess Beaumont’s, and the carriage parked just inside the gate had seen better days. Like the Baroness, the Viscount was still getting ready when they found him.
“Lord Ranford, which war are you heading off to fight?” Countess Beaumont asked.
Viscount Ranford looked up from where he was adjusting his chainmail shirt.
“Do those manning the walls not gird themselves in such a manner, Lady Beaumont?” The nobleman, who was a bit older than Liam, asked back.
“I highly doubt Lord Reginald expects us to stand out in the sun like everyday sentries,” Lady Beaumont answered. “Unless you intend to do paperwork all afternoon wearing armour, I suggest you slip into something better suited for civic duties.”
The Viscount reluctantly conceded his armour, but he held onto his sword. Liam figured it would be alright…as long as he didn’t run around picking fights with it. Aside from having a different set of economic connections, the members of Countess Beaumont’s faction weren’t especially different from the other Nobles in the area. They mostly behaved under Lady Beaumont’s influence, but he couldn’t be sure how they would act if they were subjected to too much excitement. One could only hope that the newness of the work would make them more cautious than anything else.
Liam walked alongside the carriage as it made its way out of the upper city. It wasn’t until their procession turned onto the city’s high street that he finally realised why Countess Beaumont’s faction had been assigned to the southern gate. The carriage barely made it half a block before it could no longer proceed past the corpses carpeting the street. Liam shared a look with the nearby armsmen before going to open the carriage door. It was locked.
He tugged on the latch a few times before knocking on the window. He knocked twice more before the door opened a crack. Countess Beaumont’s face appeared in the opening, holding a light blue handkerchief over her nose and mouth.
“My lady,” Liam said, “we need to walk the rest of the way.”
“But that’s impossible! Illerand is already gone.”
“Gone?”
Liam leaned to look past Lady Beaumont, spotting the Baroness passed out in her seat. Viscount Ranford was peeking between the curtains of the opposite window, muttering to himself while clutching the hilt of his sword.
“There’s barely anyone around,” Liam said. “The people won’t bother us on the way to the gate.”
If anything, the people were more interested in the bodies than anything else. In his quick scan of the street, he noted more than a few of them had already been stripped of their belongings.
“The people aren’t the only thing we have to worry about,” Lady Beaumont said. “What if one of those corpses gets up and attacks us?”
Viscount Ranford’s muttering grew more dire. Liam supposed it was possible. From what he had gathered over the winter, Re-Blumrushr had always been a wretched place, but what had happened over the past few months had clearly pushed things over the edge. If multiple Zombies and Skeletons were already appearing daily, the night’s battle could have made things much worse.
“Do we need help from the Temples?” Liam asked.
“It seems prudent,” the Countess answered, and then turned to the Viscount. “Lord Ranford, please head to the temple district and enlist the assistance of the cathedral. Make some of the temple guard comes along.”
The Viscount left in their carriage, leaving Liam – who had to carry Baroness Illerand – standing alongside Countess Beaumont in the street. Lady Beaumont eyed him with a frown as he shifted the girl’s weight around.
“What?” Liam asked.
“One must wonder if she’s done that intentionally,” the Countess answered.
Lady Beaumont gave the Baroness a poke. The lack of a response only seemed to further fuel her dissatisfaction.
“Why only the cathedral?” Liam asked.
“What do you mean?”
“They’re not the only ones in the temple district.”
“Honestly,” Lady Beaumont said, “I hadn’t considered it. Still, the cathedral is the largest temple in the city by far, so they have the most resources on hand.”
“I doubt the cathedral alone will be able to take care of all of these bodies,” Liam said. “Not before they start stinking up the street, at any rate.”
Not that it didn't already stink, but it would get far worse the longer it all sat rotting in the sun.
They carefully picked their way down the street, alert for any bodies that weren’t supposed to be moving. After arriving at the gatehouse without incident, Liam put the Baroness down in the customs office, leaving her in the care of her aged armsman.
“Where’s the customs official?” Lady Beaumont asked.
“Wasn’t anyone here when we showed up, my lady,” the Sergeant at the gate replied. “No one else’s shown up since.”
The gate, in general, was a mess. Not only were bodies strewn all over the surroundings, but the damage from the night’s battle was made plain by the daylight. Debris from the gatehouse and the nearby wall littered the ground, and the heavy wooden gate didn’t look like it would be able to close. Even the thick iron bars of the half-closed portcullis were bent to the point that they couldn’t be raised any further.
Of course, the Mercenaries hadn’t been idle while waiting their turn to exit the city. Up and down the street, shops had been ransacked and destroyed. He supposed that the city was lucky that it didn’t find itself on fire again.
“Shouldn’t House Blumrush be taking care of all of this?” Liam asked, “Helping with security and law enforcement is one thing, but making us responsible for restoring the state of the city is unreasonable. They should at least pay for it.”
“I believe you’re well acquainted enough with them to understand that they will do no such thing,” the Countess answered. “Unless the city is on the verge of collapse, they simply expect everything to take care of itself. The world exists at their pleasure…or so they like to think.”
Liam released a resigned sigh. Complaining about their situation wouldn’t fix anything, but didn’t fixing things also serve to make things worse? If House Blumrush expected everything to take care of itself, then doing as they expected only reinforced that thinking. It was an infuriating trap where the irresponsible ‘won’ because they didn’t care, and the responsible ‘lost’ because they did.
Speaking of irresponsible…
Further up the street, Lord Ranford had reappeared with a handful of temple staff. Even the Paladin that had come with them was visibly aghast at the scene of carnage that greeted them. As expected, Vicar Emberson was nowhere to be seen despite the state of the area being the greatest threat to the city.
“What do they expect to do with five people?” Liam muttered.
“I believe they will encourage the residents to help,” Lady Beaumont said.
“The people are barely scraping up half a living as it is,” he said.
“You don’t believe that they will listen to the Temples?”
“I don’t think anyone will volunteer the time that they need to feed themselves and their families.”
As always, the Faith of the Four was weirdly divorced from reality when it came to its practices. They looked on as the temple staff went from apartment to apartment, imploring the people to help clear the street. Unsurprisingly, they only managed to convince four, two of whom were children barely half Liam’s age.
Didn’t wear enough gold, I guess.
“This is stupid.”
Liam and Lady Beaumont looked over their shoulders to find that the Sergeant had been watching along with them.
“Liam’s right,” he said. “Everyone’s ‘bout starved to death. Gotta make it worth their time.”
“Convincing Lord Reginald to offer compensation for the necessary labour will be impossible,” Lady Beaumont said. “And we most certainly cannot spare the funds.”
“Huh? But we got plenty ‘o loot lyin’ around.”
“Loot?”
The Sergeant gestured to the dead Mercenaries littering the high street. The young noblewoman’s mouth fell open in disgusted horror.
“I know,” the Sergeant sighed. “Figured we could keep it all to ourselves, but I guess it can’t be helped.”
“The citizens won’t find much use for this equipment,” Liam said. “Why not offer food and keep all this for the armsmen, my lady? I doubt you’ll find arms and armour for so cheap ever again.”
“What colour do you two bleed, I wonder?” The Countess muttered before looking up the street, “Also, I do not plan on having so many armsmen anytime soon.”
“We can keep the best stuff and sell the rest,” Liam said. “You might have to wait for someone who will offer a good price, but it’ll still be worth more than the labour needed to gather it.”
“There’s that fence in the pleasure quarter,” the Sergeant said. “Well, he’s probably a fence, but this’ll be all legal, yeah?”
“I know who you’re talking about,” Liam said. “With your permission, my lady, I’ll go and speak with him. Hopefully, he hasn’t left now that the Mercenaries are gone.”
Lady Beaumont looked back and forth between Liam and the Sergeant with a put-upon expression before nodding in reluctant approval. Liam made his way across the city to the pleasure quarter, which was much quieter now that their main customers were gone. Fortunately, he found the fence in his usual booth in one of the lower-class taverns, nursing a half-drained tankard of ale.
“A bit early to be drinking, isn’t it, Tybs?”
The elfin-looking man looked up from his drink. He broke out into a smile as he rose in greeting.
“Liam! It’s so good to see you. I feared you might have gotten caught up in that terrible business last night.”
“I did,” Liam replied. “I’m fine, though.”
“That is a relief to hear,” Tybs said as he gestured to the seat across from him. “Please, sit. You have come to hear another tale of my adventures, yes?”
Tybs claimed that he had come from a place so far away that no one there had heard of the Adventurer Guild, so the term ‘adventure’ meant something else entirely to his people. Strangely enough, their idea of what adventuring was matched the Sorcerer King’s concept of it. Over the years, he had travelled up and down the western coast of the continent, plying his trade between the cities along the Great Gyre. Just recently, he had finished travelling through the Argland Archipelago and had ended up in Re-Blumrushur by sailing up the river from Re-Uroval.
“I’m here for business, actually,” Liam said. “That ‘terrible’ business last night resulted in some spoils.”
“Spoils, you say…” Tybs ran a finger along the brass rim of his tankard. “The Nobles, they wish to sell?”
“Lady Beaumont was put in charge of the cleanup,” Liam replied, “so it’s just her. There’s, uh, a lot of it, so you’re going to want to bring a few wagons.”
Tybs took a few minutes to enjoy the rest of his drink before he led Liam to the merchant’s inn where he and his crew were lodged. It took him nearly half an hour to get his people and things together. By the time they returned to the southern gate, Lady Beaumont had already gotten several dozen men to agree to work for her. The enticing aroma of a rich stew wafted from the gatehouse, where Baroness Illerand was watching the activity from behind the customs stall.
“I had heard that a great battle took place,” Tybs said, “but I pared it down by nine-tenths to account for exaggeration. Unnecessary, it seems.”
“Have you seen anything like this before?” Liam asked.
“On occasion. Mostly to do with Mercenaries or other martial sorts who have gone without pay for too long. The victors take their prizes and sell them to me, and then I sell them back to the losers for thrice the price. It is a simple business, but modestly profitable.”
“Well, we weren’t exactly the victors, but we still got the spoils. You can do something with this, right?”
“Of course,” Tybs grinned. “There is always a buyer if one knows where to look. Ah…this must be the lovely Lady Beaumont that I have heard so much about!”
The man made a graceful bow as the Countess approached them.
“Countess Beaumont,” his grin seemed to brighten fourfold somehow. “It brings me great joy to finally make your acquaintance. I am Tybs: a humble Merchant who is most delighted to be at your service.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Tybs,” Lady Beaumont inclined her head slightly in greeting. “I have it on good word that you are capable of facilitating the…transactions associated with our efforts here.”
“Of course, my lady,” Tybs nodded in understanding. “It is a grim task, but it must be done, yes? Having it all walk off on its own would be quite distressing for the citizens. I see that there is much processing to be done, but, in the end, I am confident that we will be able to settle on an exchange amenable to the both of us.”
Comments
Arthur Rebello
It is a major source of money, a lot of money, and the religious aspect white washes it for the people would complain normally
Vinka
It feels so weird that the faith of the four would have kept church prostitution, like one of their value is chastity... Is it only in Re-estize because everything there is so corrupt? It feels like it is something that would have been removed from the church after their schisms. But I really like the explanation for why it is in the faith of the six, it fit perfectly in their religion that has a major focus on being practical.
Jordan LOGELIN
One paragraph is actually unfinished. „he had finished traveling through the Argland Archipelago and“ and then it just cuts off at that point. What else should have been written there? I need to know! Especially because that paragraph is about the wider world! My favorite topic!
