Underkeeper

Iriala stalked into the count’s manor and sat down across from Guard Commander Righmond in the lobby. This was not a great day for court rituals—such as unnecessary waiting times—but nobles needed to feel important the most when faced with calamities like this one. She positioned herself to give the impression that she was making direct eye contact with Righmond before she subtly activated the enchantment on her glasses, accessing her network of divination spells along the main dungeon entrances and the known breaches that had occurred over the last twelve hours.

She could smell the man sweat from four feet away, and was determined to make it worse for him. Some people couldn’t be fired, but they could still be made to leave.

Through her enchanted glasses, she observed Ed, who was currently working with Janus on the defense. The third breach, located behind an old guard station, had been dug open again, and kobolds were spilling out and toward the mages. The City Guards were nowhere to be seen—the archmages had most likely ordered them back. As Janus raised his wand, the breach collapsed again, and the earth rose up in a circle around the kobolds into a tall wall, soon compressed into something like stone. Then Ed turned his head to stare up at her spell.

For the first time in years, she saw his face quirk into a real smile, before he turned toward the kobolds theatrically and snapped his fingers. A concussive wave spread through the air in a split second, betrayed only by the stirred-up dust and grass as it passed, and shattered the barrier. Shards of stone tore into the kobolds and buried them. The whole thing had taken four seconds, and could have gone faster if they’d cared to. Things were going fine here.

***

Righmond stared at the floor. He knew Iriala liked to do this kind of thing to intimidate people, but knowing that didn’t make him any more comfortable. How could he ignore her cold, dark gaze when it was locked directly onto his pupils? Why did she just smirk at him? Had he given something away? She had a bearing like some kind of evil queen handing down judgment.

Sweat trickled along his back and soaked into his pants. Would the stains be obvious? Why did he have to do this stupid job? Why couldn’t they just let him move to a smaller town in the heartlands and live a regular life with Mariella? She was barely related to the royals anyway. It wasn’t like they ever bothered to acknowledge her existence. This ridiculous insistence on maintaining…

“The count will see you now.” A calm male voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts. Righmond shifted his gaze to the count’s secretary and nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

Iriala had no such issues. She smiled pleasantly and rose primly. “Thank you, Art. Please lead the way.” The three of them made their way down the hall into a finely decorated conference room, where a table was peppered with documents and a few cleared spaces set with tea cups around a platter of little cakes. Count Narald was waiting with Branchmaster Ambrose of the Adventurers’ Guild and Lord Magistrate Gerold. Apparently they had been having a private meeting before this.

“Archmage, Guard Commander, please sit. I need to make some hard decisions and require your counsel and cooperation.”

He motioned to Art, who brought forward a pot of tea and served the counselors.

“Iriala contacted the royal court about our emergency this morning. There isn’t time to mobilize for this, so the kingdom is stripping the garrisons of Alborough, Gobford and Fergefield, and routing half of the currently mobilized first field army here from their maneuvers. There will still be a mobilization of the reserve, but they will be backfilling those locations, not coming here. We should expect the first relief forces here in under four days, but most will take over two weeks.”

The count paused and looked at everyone, clearly expecting some reaction.

Righmond seemed to be the only person who wasn’t already aware of the news. He huffed. “Yes, good. I’m sure they will clear out these pests in no time.” The others looked at him and said nothing. After an awkward pause, the count continued.

“Ambrose tells me that over 170 adventurers have been lost to the kobolds, and news is spreading. It hasn’t yet been a whole day and almost fifteen percent of the local adventurers have already deregistered with the local branch. I fear we will have to rely on the Guard to defend Halfbridge until the army gets here.” The count leaned toward Righmond, clearly trying to impress upon him the significance of his responsibilities.

Righmond’s guts turned to jelly.

“Please, be reasonable. We can’t hold off a dragon. We’re not trained for subterranean combat. My men know how to defend walls and arrest criminals, not how to wage a war against legions of monsters!”

He did not want to die here. He had taken this post to satisfy the demands of his in-laws to provide adequate status and wealth, not to die in some futile attempt to slow down a hungry dragon.

He wanted to scream. There had to be a solution to this for him. And, just as he had the thought, the solution presented itself.

“Please, if I might suggest an even more appropriate course of action. Surely you’ve heard the news of how decisive and critical the contribution of a single junior Underkeeper was in the dungeon. This is practically their specialty! In this moment of crisis, I believe Archmage Thurdred and his people are best situated to lead the defense of the municipality. In fact, I believe that in recognition of their tremendous service, it might even be appropriate to expand their charter to include the defense of the city from the threats below.”

Iriala snorted derisively at the guard commander.

“The Underkeepers are a city maintenance organization—they are not equipped for war, regardless of Ed’s and a few of the others’ military experience. Are you going to fund the equipment and training needed to transform them into a meaningful fighting force?”

The last question was directed toward Lord Magistrate Gerold, who shook his head.

“We’re going to scrape our budget and our lending capacities to the bone just to contract some support from what’s left of the Adventurers’ Guild.” He glared at Ambrose. “They adjusted their rates significantly to account for the current situation.”

Iriala smirked at that. Righmond had heard she’d offered the support of the Mages’ Guild at an even more outrageous rate. The only other guilds who could be directly contracted to work on a mercenary basis were the Berserkers and the Thieves, but neither had an official headquarters in Halfbridge. The Thieves’ Guild wasn’t exactly well suited for open war, anyway.

“Several of the local temples,” Gerold added pointedly after a pregnant pause, “have sent clerics and even a few paladins to support the defense.”

If the dragon itself moved on the city, all combat-capable citizens could be pressed into service, of course—but that hadn’t happened. So far, it had only defended itself in its own lair. Kobolds were attacking the city, but they weren’t doing so in large numbers. That alone wouldn’t be enough to force the guilds to move, because the City Guard would be expected to handle it. Righmond’s City Guard.

Suppressing a groan at the thought, Righmond looked toward the count, who stroked his short beard and eyed him critically.

“That’s true, but Guard Commander Righmond does make a valid point. The Underkeepers aren’t a military organization, but according to all the reports I’ve heard, they’re doing an excellent job at containing the attacks. Archmage Thurdred is a decorated veteran officer, despite his… shortcomings.”

Iriala said, “And neither you nor anyone else here really wants to bet the lives of our fine city’s residents on Righmond’s competence—not even the man himself, apparently.”

The guard commander flushed, tempted to defend himself, but he suppressed the urge with some difficulty. She was trying to goad him, but if he could endure this humiliation, he might be able to take his family and leave this horrible city. Even if he couldn’t, he could go back to minding the city gates and local crime rates rather than worrying about an incipient war.

“Then, if there are no objections, it’s decided,” said Count Narald. “Archmage Thurdred will be granted control of the city’s subterranean defense. The Guard will provide two hundred guards to operate under his command, and the Underkeepers will be granted salvage rights inside the dungeon alongside the Adventurers’ Guild. Gerold, please inform the archmage that I expect him to use any resources he can recover to expand his organization in order to better fulfill his new mandate.”

As the count dismissed them, Righmond made his way back outside and allowed himself a sigh of relief. Iriala had embarrassed him, but in the end, only results mattered. There was nothing to be gained from standing in the way of a dragon. Now he was out of harm’s way and, with any luck, that godsdamned muck mage would get himself killed.

***

As she left the meeting, Iriala sighed to herself.

It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, at least. She’d helped an old friend gain some much-needed leverage, and managed to keep her own guild out of what was likely to turn into a bloody mess. Ed had always thrived on chaos, and he would thrive here, too—even without proper funding. His two protégés and partners in political suicide, Dayle and Fiora, had a similar temperament. She supposed the life of a war mage shaped people in similar ways.

She wasn’t like them, and neither were her people. The Mages’ Guild was frequently contracted to provide dungeon security or offer magical support for all kinds of projects, from elaborate construction work for wealthy eccentrics to obscure research projects for the crown. What they didn’t do was get involved in wars. They were academics, or at least craftspeople. They didn’t specialize in combat magic, and most did their best to avoid dangerous situations—like any sane person.

And they were her responsibility.

The count and the magistrate could howl all they wanted—she wasn’t sending her people to die fighting mobs of kobolds, or anything else. Not without a direct order from the king.

Besides, once the army arrived, they’d take over the entire operation and all this would be irrelevant. Unless Ed ended up taking over the army. You never really knew with that man.