The Closed Chamber Council met high above the City Crystal. The Consuls stood in the center while Rüdiger paced in circles around them. Adarin wisely chose not to ask why.

  Jacqueline arrived on the hour, slipping into place as Rüdiger completed his third circuit.

  Rüdiger steepled his fingers and spun.

  “Now, now. I know how much you all love meetings, but let’s keep this short.”

  He turned to Adarin. “Have you made your decisions on who is going to accompany you to Dreyrivers?”

  Adarin swayed one of his manipulators through the air. “I have not yet finalized my decisions.”

  Rüdiger put his fingers together.

  “In that case, maybe the candidates shall become obvious in this meeting of the Chamber Council, might they not?”

  Adarin nodded with exaggerated enthusiasm, a sharp smile tugging at his lips. “Well, someone might perform outstandingly and be chosen for such an honor.”

  Rüdiger nodded sagely. “Indeed. Indeed. Francesco, what is the situation? Have the… volunteers at the mass graves been taken care of?”

  Francesco chuckled, boyish face at odds with the grim humor.

  “The excavations of the occupation-era mass graves are going well. The objectors—they will cause us no more trouble.”

  Duchess Viola’s eyes widened, and Jacqueline and Mathilda exchanged smiles.

  Kelvin blurted out the question hanging in the room. “So—you butchered the lot of them?” There was neither shock nor accusation in the question, just idle curiosity.

  Marquardt shifted awkwardly, looking from side to side. He exhaled slowly and looked at his feet.

  Adarin grinned inwardly. Now he realizes it was the only choice that would allow him to continue his career.

  “Of course not,” said Francesco with a flourish, clearly imitating Rüdiger’s style. “They were dissuaded. They are citizens. They have rights—just not the right to obstruct the proper functioning of the state.”

  “Quite so,” Mathilda added, snapping her fingers. “The Old Mage Academy is a problem. The entire foundation has been fractured. The construction mages say we have to tear the whole place down. That will set us back months.”

  Rüdiger just shrugged.

  “Then the young adepts will study in tents. Tragic, I’m sure.”

  Chuckles erupted around the chamber.

  Duchess Viola spoke up, her voice much less steady than it should have been. “Archmagister vom Erlenwald. There were outbreaks of violence across the city. Dozens of Orcish-blooded residents are dead.”

  Adarin cleared his throat. “I am absolutely certain such incidents will no longer occur after today. What is your opinion on this, Count Marquardt?”

  Adarin kept his tone level, laughter curling inside.

  The Count ground his teeth, then nodded.

  “My men see no indication this will continue. It probably was an isolated incident following the arrival of the settlers. Someone injected too much enthusiasm into the crowds.”

  Princess Jacqueline smiled broadly, as she noticed the man's look. “Oh, someone injected something into the crowds.”

  Adarin inclined his head. Is she just sniping, or does she know something? Count Marquardt’s stony face gave nothing away.

  Next, Kelvin elaborated on the general political situation: how the Orcs had fractured, and what had once been the Council of the Green Conquest had broken into splinters. “Broken Peak holds the far shore, the Toxic Gobblers the south. The Unbroken Immortal Oath cling to a tiny enclave beside the Crusaders, while the Black Tree squat in the center.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Kelvin chuckled.

  “Methinks the High Shaman outmaneuvered the Prophet Tosserak’s brother—holding the front line while getting none of the Heartlands.”

  “Well, treachery is in the nature of the greenskin,” said Count Marquardt sweetly, smiling at Duchess Viola. She wrinkled her nose but said nothing.

  Rüdiger stroked his goatee. “Interesting, interesting. Kelvin, what do you need to extend this intelligence network of yours?”

  He shrugged. “Apart from money, communication artifacts, and transportation?”

  “Granted, granted.” Rüdiger waved his hand like a southern sultan. Then he turned to Marquardt with a grin.

  “Count von Hohenfels, make sure he gets what he needs. Intelligence behind enemy lines will be important.”

  The Count’s face reddened slightly, but he gave a curt nod.

  “It shall be done.”

  In his mindspace, Adarin was howling with laughter. Maybe I can start predicting Rüdiger’s moves by just imagining what would be the most awkward setup for any group of people working together. Worth a try.

  Finally, Rüdiger turned back to Adarin.

  “So—have your choices been made? Or do you at least have an idea?”

  Count Marquardt leaned forward, expectant. Adarin gave him no response, letting him stew. Then he gestured with a manipulator toward Francesco.

  “I believe Consul Francesco would benefit from some practical field experience with my subordinates. Some closeness there would be… quite beneficial.”

  Francesco tensed, only relaxing as Rüdiger nodded with approval.

  Jacqueline’s lips tightened. “I believe our most experienced magical personnel should not be sent on such an expedition. Would it not be better to send someone with local expertise—like Count Marquardt?”

  Duchess Viola nodded. “Indeed. The Count’s… freedom-fighting activities make him highly qualified to talk to those who remained behind in the independent villages.”

  Adarin clicked his tongue. So she understands the game we’re playing. Too bad. He made a cutting gesture.

  “Quite the opposite. The young magister is an extraordinary mage and well-educated in logistics, but I believe field experience would give him needed seasoning. Don’t you agree, Archmagister vom Erlenwald?”

  Rüdiger grinned broadly, looking between Francesco, Jacqueline, Marquardt, and Viola. “Oh, indeed. It will be a pleasant experience for him.”

  Jacqueline’s pout flickered before she schooled her face back to neutral. Adarin steepled his fingers in the privacy of his mindspace. And that’s the first trick done.

  Adarin let the council settle. The Consuls stewed in silence for a while, content to wait for what would happen next. Jacqueline seemed as if she was about to speak more than once, but in the end remained silent.

  “Who else?” Rüdiger drew out the words, prompting him for his second choice.

  “Well, that would be Duchess Viola,” Adarin said, brushing on quickly as he noticed the woman growing stiff. “I have some questions of a logistical nature, especially regarding my and the Commodore’s authority.”

  Rüdiger waved his hands. “Ah, yes. We shall discuss those later. There is no need for the Council there.”

  He turned not-so-subtly toward Duchess Viola, studying her. The woman had gone tense, and Count Marquardt’s triumphant grin made it all too clear who was at fault. Viola began to speak. “Archmagister, I have just begun establishing my staff and my role in the Ministry. I cannot leave the city now. There would be consequences.”

  Mathilda acted for the first time. She stepped over to Viola and clasped her shoulder. “Do not worry, Duchess. Trust me. In the name of our Ministry, I will ensure that your interests are fairly represented.”

  Count Marquardt’s eyes narrowed, but Rüdiger noted sternly, “Yes, Archmagister Mathilda will certainly ensure that nothing goes awry in the Ministry during your absence.” He smiled broadly. “We wouldn’t want anyone’s power base to be damaged, would we now?”

  An awkward silence filled the room, and Rüdiger prodded at Adarin over the mindlink. ‘Now that was hilarious, was it not?’

  Adarin chuckled back, though it was forced. He cannot just be breaking the fourth wall of social conventions like this. Politics is about appearances, after all.

  ‘Yes,’ he said somewhat tersely. ‘Yes, it was.’

  Rüdiger’s chuckle faded into the ether. Then he clapped his hands thrice.

  “Well, well, well. With this in mind—” He gestured, and with a thunderous clap the doors flew open.

  Robed mages filed in with carafes and smoking censers. Thick incense rolled through the chamber, choking the air.

  Rüdiger grinned broadly. “Time for our next agenda. A ritual to see into the future.”

  He made a broad gesture as if cleaning an invisible window before him, and smiled at everyone in turn.

  A cold shiver ran down Adarin’s spine.