The Butcher of Gadobhra-Chapter 482: Turtle Soup

Smythe's mind was unsettled as he turned over the horses to a smiling groom outside the inn. He had come to Sedgewick with a plan in mind, but his careful strategy was becoming threadbare around the edges. He had high hopes that Inquisitor Diego would be able to give him the information he needed to put pressure on the Baron. The innkeeper greeted him at the door, taking his cape and hat with assurances they would be carefully cleaned to remove the dust from traveling.

Like the rest of the town, the inn had been improved and was larger overall. But things went beyond that. Smythe was an expert on ferreting out where nobles hid their money, and his eye immediately noticed the expensive crown molding, polished wooden parquet floors, and lead glass windows. No longer an impoverished country-style inn, this building wouldn't be out of place on a public square of the capital. To the right of the common dining room was a taproom for drinking and pub food. To the left were the more private dining arrangements, from semi-private tables to enclosed rooms. To his surprise, Diego was sitting at a large table in the center of a room, surrounded by a few couples dining along the edges. The table was groaning under the weight of the food: suckling pig, two tureens of soup, a full rack of ribs from a large game animal, and the largest roast fowl the Procurator had ever seen.

The rest of his staff were waiting for them, more or less patiently. While Huck's nose was a blessing when seeking clues and following a trail, it tormented the small man when he was hungry, bringing the scents of nearby food to him. It didn't help that Diego was already enjoying a bowl of soup and greatly enjoying it. He waved to them, "Please, don't stand on ceremony. Wasting good food is a terrible crime in a world where many go hungry."

Smythe sat across from Diego, and his staff took the two nearby, smaller tables. They needed no encouragement to begin eating. A serving girl began ladling out bowls of soup. "Would you prefer turtle soup or lamb stew? Both are freshly made."

Everyone noticed the smell coming from where Diego was finishing his bowl and opted for the turtle soup. It was a rich soup, with more turtle meat than was traditional, in large chunks. Huck sniffed at it several times before diving in and eating quickly, smiling and closing his eyes, making Smyth curious.

"Huck, Report."

The small man paused with his spoon in the air. "The rooms are warded against spying, but be careful of lipreaders. Runes under the carpeting. Traditional turtle soup as made in many small, seaside villages. This soup takes its unique flavor and smell from the meat of the Tier Four Snapper-Turtles used to make it." He looked longingly at his spoon, and Smythe nodded. Huck eagerly went back to eating.

Turning to the serving maid, Smythe said, "I take it that this soup is made for special occasions?"

"Only if you count Thursdays and Sundays as special. We have several hundred pounds of meat in our basement, under preservation enchantments. We'll be serving this twice a week for the next year. But no one has complained, so far. It's very tasty. More for you, Inquisitor?"

"I must pass on my customary second bowl, my dear. There are so many delicacies to sample, and I don't want to miss any of them."

Smythe calmed his mind and focused on his bowl of soup. He'd just finished when Diego began speaking, "I'd like to get started, if you don't mind. You were sent here with instructions from our Imperial Master. What strategy will you be pursuing to gain success?"

"I assume you know the goals set for me?"

"Of course. How could I be of service, otherwise? How fares your investigation? I was told that, in part, Gustavus wished you to investigate a small list of items, similar to what we look for in all Baronial lands."

Smythe brought out a scroll and unrolled it. "So far, I have found no problems. The road from Hurlsford to Rowan Keep, and from Rowan Keep to Gadobhra, is in impeccable condition with no wear, loose stones, or decaying mortar. Work is beginning on another roadway, running through Daylesford and onward to Thunderhead. There is no sickness or starvation in the peasantry, and they are well-housed. The Legion and the Baron have a system of communication and mutual assistance. Recruiting is ten times higher among the peasantry of Gadobhra than any other Barony I've seen numbers for. I have another dozen questions about Sedgewick that I answered by walking through it tonight. All positively. I will investigate Gadobhra tomorrow. In particular, I am to visit a place called Hungrytown and another called the Endless Dance."

"Let me save you some time: All the dungeons are under control. Repairs to the city are underway at a good pace. The Baron has few, if any, standing troops, but can defend his people, if necessary. I do recommend you visit those two places: The blackberry cobbler is excellent, and I had no idea how much I missed the orchestra and choir in Valtendorf until I spent an evening at the Dance. I think we can set aside that part of your report and move on."

Smythe looked at the paperwork and scowled. "I'm not in the habit of abandoning an imperial task. The Emperor wishes information on these things."

Diego leaned back and crossed his hands across his belly. "Does he? The wording says he wishes you to investigate and form an opinion. I can assure you, Gustavus already has the information on this list."

"Then what is the reason for this scavenger hunt?"

"Why, to make sure you had first-hand information. You do good work, Procurator, but you think in certain ways, and you look for things that are out of the ordinary. That works against you here. Everything in Gadobhra is out of the ordinary. And I sometimes think Sedgewick is worse. So many loose ends that seem to only run me in circles. The odd things don't matter. Your job this time is to put pressure upon the Baron to move him to do the things Gustavus wants done."

"I am aware of that, thank you very much."

"Good, tell me how you were going to go about it."

Smythe tried to rally his thoughts. "As I normally do, I would make a meticulous list of all tax liabilities in the Barony, separating them out to those owed by each Hamlet, Sedgewick, and Gadobhra. Then look at the guild structure to make sure the local nobles were not hiding their wealth by investing it in businesses they owned. Once armed with this data, I would calculate their responsibilities to the Emperor, extrapolate tax increases, add 20% for good measure, and begin sweating them."

"I see. A classic style as detailed in first-year tax-collecting."

"It works 95% of the time, which is why it is ingrained as a tactic."

An elderly man entered the room, easily caught Diego's eye, and nodded before leaving. The Inquisitor turned to the Procurator, "Normally, I would be delighted to spend a week with you, working on such a process. It would be very enjoyable to see how each aberrant detail affected your strategy. Sadly, things in the outside world are moving fast, and so must the servants of the Emperor. Some advice: Toss aside your preconceptions of the man; he is growing into the role. Review in your mind the strange situation that brought him to this village and hundreds of other corporate agents to similar villages. Lastly, do not discount the Baroness. She is cut from the same cloth as the Baron."

Smythe had only a few seconds to think about Diego's advice before the elderly man returned and announced to the room, "The Baron and Baroness of Gadobhra." Everyone stood as William and Layla walked into the room, dressed for formal dining. The servant seated them at the table, but the Baron took the opportunity to lean and shake Smythe's hand, "Good to see you again, Procurator. Let's not stand on precedent tonight. Just four friends enjoying a bite to eat and talking business. What are you putting in front of us tonight, Emilio?"

"A nice assortment, all of it from the Barony, or in the case of the wine, very nearby. Besides our traditional turtle soup is a hot and spicy lamb stew. The flavor literally explodes in your mouth. The ribs are from our local smokehouse. They began as a massive army-dillo rampaging through the stockyards of Gadobhra, and after a week of tenderizing, they are ready to eat. The centerpiece is a roasted wyld wyvern brought in just this morning by two hunters. The crackling skin is encrusted with herbs, giving the juicy meat a light seasoning. Shall I begin by carving for you?"

Layla nodded, "Please do, Emilio, and thank you. Everything looks wonderful."

Emilio carved thin slices of meat for each plate and separated the ribs into smaller sections that steamed and smoked as the heat inside was released. Smythe had never had either meat before and found both to be incredibly succulent. He made a mental note to check the account books and see if any vendor had sold either meat to the Imperial Palace. Sourcing a new dish for Imperial banquets wasn't part of his job, but it was always nice to show off a little and put the other accountants in their place.

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"What brings you back North, Procurator? Surely it isn't tax time again."

"Think of it as special attention to help out a loyal servant of the Empire. You have a complex situation here, and an ever-growing tax debt. While it isn't time for yearly payments, those taxes are accruing. I believe we left open the Level of the Dungeons you control until they were explored. We know people have entered and explored them, and even the System itself has made an extraordinary statement about your Barony. I'm sure you are aware of that?"

Layla smirked, "Aware? An understatement. William had the entire statement chiseled into the stone of one of our sitting rooms. We're quite proud of it. It's a testimony to what hard work and greed can do to build up an economy and raise the living conditions of everyone."

Smythe stared at her, "Better living conditions? They are surrounded by killer squirrels and monsters lurking everywhere!"

She shrugged, "Just like they were before. Before we got here, everyone in Sedgewick huddled in town and barely left. No one went into the wilds. Now, they go there to hunt the monsters." She gestured to the wyvern. "Emilio cooks a great wyvern, but he got the recipe from a woman in the Hamlets. The hunters go after the young ones and don't let them get too big."

"But still, this creates difficulty for travelers, the aged and infirm, and young people growing up."

"All of whom are protected by their families and layers of defenses. We haven't been visited by the Great Wolf of the Hollywood in ages. Too dangerous for him. And there's a point you should consider: No matter what level the surrounding areas are, Winter won't care. Their White Wargs and Snarlfangs are fast-moving threats that will wipe out low-level villages in the rest of the Empire. But not our people. They'll fight back against anything that gets past Rowan Keep."

That was a line of thought Smythe needed to table for now, and he retreated to a financial discussion. "While that may be true, your actions have increased the level of the wilds, the dungeons, and the Town of Sedgewick."

"No," Billy answered while taking a slice of mincemeat pie and an army-dillo rib. "Read the announcement. Part of the blame lies on the Fae and the Under-Rodent. Says so right in the announcement from the system. As to the wildlands, I can bring out experts who will show that it was the machinations of the Empire, the Ancient Druids, and a cabal of do-gooders who caused that. The old magic is still running wild, and I'm the one keeping it in control. Sedgewick would be covered in a forest by now. We already fought one war with the Oaks. There will be more."

"An argument for another time. I think it is indisputable, though, that you have allowed and even encouraged your peasantry to increase past Tier One, and will owe an astronomical amount of takes."

"No argument. I'll pay. Next?"

Smythe paused, "You'll pay? No argument?"

Billy smiled, "Hard to argue. We'll run a census of permanent residents and their Tier and pay up. No sense in setting an amount yet, since a lot of Tier One youths will be moving to Tier 2 by the end of the year. But for your estimates, we'll use current taxes plus 25%."

Diego was thrilled by that, "That's wonderful to hear. I've sat and listened to the stories of the brave adventuring teams entering the Bunny Barrow. They get so excited when they come out of there with their first piece of loot and run around the town completing quests."

Smythe made a note in his books, "There is the increase in the Dungeons to consider."

Billy scowled, "We got cheated on those. I want some corrections. The Menagerie needs to be listed as Tier 5. Hell, it tore up Fae hunting parties before the increase. And I've got confirmation from my people that the Pit starts with Tier Four trash mobs at the entrance, and those Underboss Butchers are all Monstrous. And that's just on the first floor. I want the Pit listed at Tier 6."

"You want to pay more taxes on your dungeons?"

Layla explained, "It's a matter of advertising, dear. We can't send out Bards around talking about the terrors of a Tier 6 Dungeon that we pay taxes on, like it was Tier 5. One of those nasty little slimes in your accounting department will use it against us. It's worth it to pay the increased taxes to attract higher-level adventurers who clear the dungeons, keep them under control, and generate magical items for us."

"I see...well, no, I don't. But Diego is nodding, and I'll go with his appraisal. I'm sorry, no one likes to pay taxes! You hated the idea last time I was here."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I hate paying taxes, especially when I don't have the money. But at this point, I've got positive cash flow. Tier 2 and Tier 3 peasants produce plenty to offset the taxes. And so are the dungeons. The tax on the towns is negligible, and I don't have to pay the Sedgewick portion. You'll want to talk with Suzette about that. I bet you'll be a lot more careful dealing with her this time around."

Smythe winced. The Emperor getting sued by a gnome standing in front of the Imperial throne had sent shockwaves through his department and was cutting years off the turnaround time on paperwork. Gustavus may have appeared to be amused. Other people were not. "I see, well, I must say I'm slightly disappointed. Our dealings last time were vigorous and exciting. It pains me to see you rolling over and paying like any other Baron."

Billy's eyes narrowed, and then he smiled. "Nice try. I learned a valuable lesson. You people can't be trusted to hold up your end of the deal. Building the keep was a damn good deal for the Empire. Then everyone decided to cheat and slow me down, add new wrinkles like the teleporter, or turn a blind eye when other Nobles sent people to sabotage the work. Every time my people turned around, someone from another Legion outpost was 'Requisitioning' the weapons we supplied. We had to hide them or bolt them in place. I'm not giving anyone a chance to cheat me like that again!"

Smythe wanted to sink lower in his seat with each accusation. He'd heard some of it over time, but not this blunt retelling of all the sabotage at once.

In the ensuing silence, Diego looked at the Baroness, "My dear, you are far better with a sharp blade than I. Would you mind slicing me a drumstick from the wyvern?" Laughing, Layla produced two small daggers, flicked them twice, and laid the large chunk of meat on the Inquisitor's plate. He added another rib and covered it all in gravy. After a few bites during which Smythe picked at his food and the Baron and Baroness exchanged small talk, he looked at the two of them.

"You scared them."

"We scared them? We were barely keeping our heads above water and eating groatmeal muffins."

"And despite that, you scared an Empire. I was at the monastery when the great bells pealed, announcing that the city was unlocked. This was the most terrifying city of the Wheel of Eight. At least for the Empire. Armies had marched from it several times. To the rest of us, it was old history. Monsters were locked away for all time until you casually opened them up for business again. They feared what you would do, and what would happen if the dungeons overflowed as they had in the past. The spirit of the city is violent and bloodthirsty. It enjoys death and conquest. Behind every greedy bureaucrat or Noble was a dozen terrified people who wanted Gadobhra resealed. But, we had two problems: We didn't know how, and you had a contract with the System."

Billy looked at Layla, then back at Diego, "Explain, please."

"Simple enough. For whatever reason, the Gods decided to open our world to visitors and to give contracts to corporations. You were encouraged and rewarded for building and improving your areas. Each of those contracts was personally signed by the Emperor. Clerics and Inquisitors argued about the ramifications of breaking such a contract. And while they argued, nothing immediately bad occurred. As normal protocol, a Procurator was assigned to visit, and the three of you managed to come up with that astounding plan to rebuild Rowan Keep. This pleased the Emperor greatly and let him ignore the ongoing theological arguments. His attitude was 'Let's see what happens.' Sadly, that wasn't the case for thousands of other people in the Empire. Fear and greed combined to produce the worst in people and complicate your job. If it's any consolation, their zeal in stopping you has left them open to my branch of the government, and we are having a wonderful time trimming back the aspirations of many nobles. Time in a dank cell helps the reality set in." frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

The old Inquisitor stood and bowed to the two of them, "Emperor Gustavus wishes me to convey his personal thanks for a job well done."

Layla sighed and poured the two of them full glasses of wine. "Here it comes."

Billy looked at the puzzlement on the faces of the two men. "We have a saying at ACME. The only reward for a job well done is another job."

Diego nodded, only a small smile on his face. "Just so."