The Asphodel Conspiracy

It is regrettable that Raum has become so involved in this.

So many people have suffered because of Toreas’ failures to mediate House Asphodel. Again and again, Toreas has faced their trickery, their betrayals, their deceit, yet for all his knowledge of their workings, he has not once won against them.

He was a fool for not exposing Gallus to the court. He was a fool for not beheading Aquila in childhood. He was a fool for ever, ever pledging himself to Phoenix Valens.

But his greatest foolishness was, as the cinders still roiled in the Tyrant’s Reign’s wake, agreeing to that audience with Aquila.

Yes, Aquila was disadvantaged. Yes, his support base had crumbled. But the second Aquila confessed to him that Phoenix had been the ‘unknown witch’ to raise him, Toreas should not have pledged a silent oath of betrayal, but immediately run him through with Kingslayer.

He’d been so compelling. He’d been so correct. Bloodshed has impressed upon me the importance of order, he said. Without the lynchpin of Asphodel, already the Lords have returned to warring, he said. Yes our history exceeds any simple grievance — but the benefits of our cooperation render pathetic any commitment to enmity. I will grant you sanctuary, you will grant me information and a blade, and the people of this country shall be united under peace’s banner again. Why had Toreas been so weak, to let that hatred in Aquila’s voice convince him?

To convince him that Aquila was stronger? That he could resist? That it did not matter he was geased; his sheer loathing for Phoenix Valens would fuel him through torturous hellfire, for by the agony’s presence, he would know himself just, and in righteous spite prevail against the memory of that godforsaken tyrant?

That he would do what Toreas couldn’t, and all the while, understand?

Why?

Why had he believed it?

Why had it taken him decades, and the death of Aquila’s favourites, for him to realise what he had done? So many Lords died around him in those early years. Then all those dignities, straight to the Whitewoods. Why had he not seen — that he was not rewarding his loyalists, but setting them up to fall?

All that time, all those years, Aquila had not resisted geas for a second. He had followed it to the absolute letter, but had simply been meticulous, patient, and careful. Phoenix demanded the Whitewoods, who he loathed, dead. Phoenix demanded threats, rival powers, extinguished before they could bloom. Aquila had postponed it until no excuses could stay his hand from the hammer.

“The cult! The cult!" There was no damn cult. Those remnants had died a decade ago, exterminated by Toreas’ own blade. There is only him. And Aquila.

Who is on the throne, secure, and unpredictable.

Whether it takes decades or centuries to manifest his will — a thrall of Phoenix Valens cannot rule this country.

Belated as it may be, Toreas shall now, finally, fill his oath.

It sounds very intense.

Questions whizz anxiously through Raum’s mind. But then won’t the country war again if Aquila’s off the throne? How are you going to replace him? When you say betray, what do you mean? Are you going to kill him? People need his blood… and he’s done so well restoring the place, is it really so bad for him to stay in power? There hasn’t been a war since he reclaimed the throne, and he did exterminate the cult by allying with you, which sounds like a good thing. And yeah, so he couldn’t avoid killing the Whitewoods, but he postponed it for a very long time. It sounds like he’s doing the best he can… are you sure there’s no diplomatic solution here, if he’s a victim too?

—Morgan in the tower flashes through Raum’s mind. It makes him pause, though he can’t say why.

Heeding that feeling of caution, Raum nudges Toreas to a different track: Mom?

Indeed, Toreas continues, Desiree Blackthorne. He was very surprised to see her.

Apparently, after the massacre, she had caught rumours circling around court of a ‘cultist’s’ whereabouts. When they realised they knew each other, even if only tangentially, they agreed to collaborate, so as to untangle, and take control of what had become a very precarious situation for both of them. Ordanz would soon want Desiree repatriated and Toreas had been abandoned by Aquila, who had ignored Toreas’ every attempt at contact. Inaction would see her gone without closure for her family’s death, and him framed for the Whitewoods then buried, alongside the truth of Aquila’s allegiances.

The rumours Desiree had followed would inevitably seep into wider circles before long. It was only by Desiree’s genius that Toreas escaped without being hunted, that they smugged themselves into Indris, that they found a hideout from which they could plot, and that they began amassing the information and resources they could use or leverage for their aims.

It was utter chance that then, one day, Toreas picked up one of Raum’s transmissions.

He was broadcasting on the obscure channels Phoenix used to organise his operatives, which Toreas was still geased to check regularly. Desiree recognised Raum’s voice, despite his attempts to distort it, and excitedly noted it was no coincidence that he was approaching Burmal. Toreas knew Raum was coming for him, and reporting to Aquila—

Every word from Toreas garbles into indistinct noise, as Raum’s brain freezes on the thought: Wait, this guy’s clueless.

The realisation feels like a pale sun dawning over a flat, crisp ocean.

Sometimes, people fixate on ideas so obsessively, they fail to see the reality in front of them. Raum is familiar with the concept, as he himself has a bent towards it. For someone with a little less self-awareness — or without Reyl’s harsh realism ingrained in their brain as a counterpoint — it would be easy to get lost on what to do, and begin acting erratically when forced into a corner, if all solutions are predicated on some nonsense idea.

Like the idea that Aquila’s arranged this whole stint around Toreas. That Raum is a pawn of Aquila is a pawn of Phoenix, and they all want to personally screw Toreas.

The guy is utterly blind. He is maybe not stupid, but he is not clever, and he has a hammer, and he sees many nails. So why Raum? It’s simple. So simple it’s stupid. It’s because Raum ran away, so Toreas naturally chased after him. Eventually he chased so far he couldn’t turn back, so he rationalised the over-commitment as good. He understands Raum is good leverage but not why, or how, and is now crossing his fingers for the situation to plainly turn in his favour until some better idea comes along. That is truly, entirely, the long and short of Toreas’ agenda.

It’s not so much an anticlimax, as so dumb that it tempts paranoia. Oh god what if he does this? What if he does that? How do you argue him out of that? It’s not just a mistake to let him call the shots; even just listening to him is an error.

Raum’s tongue jumps to correct him, but he catches himself.

Because at the same time, if Toreas is lost and blind, then this is an opportunity to seize him and steer him in whatever direction. Same as Phoenix did, Aquila did, and undoubtedly, Desiree did. He just has to ask those questions he himself found legitimately concerning, and at the first note of doubt or uncertainty, unveil something that looks like a path out of it.

Raum takes a breath and carefully sits up as Toreas, done with applying ointments and bandages, puts away the first aid kit. Toreas is still talking, but it just sounds like noise. Even if Raum asked about his mother’s present welfare, he doubts he would understand it — as his mind is apparently sanitising itself of junk information so adamantly, it won’t accept anything Toreas says.

So forget Toreas. What are Raum’s priorities?

Reconvene with Reyl. To do that, he needs to know where she is and retrieve her, she needs to know where he is and come to him, or some third party who knows both their locations needs to transfer one party to the other — hard sell. How to achieve that? He can signal Reyl with Toreas’ radio, or contact the authorities and threaten them with Toreas… no. He has to turn the ship around, get right back into the city, and march Toreas into the middle of a field hospital as a very concerning bluff. He needs more chaos, before the authorities can breathe, so Reyl can manoeuvre herself to him with abandon.

Then, kill Toreas. Reyl has the strange recording that killed the Majordomo, and that had been meant to kill them. Though Raum can conceive reasons why Toreas may be immune to it — chiefly, the fact that Toreas is a familiar of Phoenix’s, like them — Raum’s intuition hasn’t a doubt. Since his heart is provably quicker than his mind, and often figures things out quicker than he can understand them, he trusts it. This weapon will absolutely work against Toreas.

And then…

Then…

And then, come what may. He’d have Reyl. That was all he wanted, that was A to B. C, D, X, Y, and Q need not interfere. The world wasn’t a goddamn alphabet and staring at the words in the soup, instead of eating it, would just make him wither into a hungry skeleton.

Raum lets fear and uncertainty fill his voice as he turns to address Toreas. Just like in the execution, if he trusts the right words will come, they will. “Hey…" he begins—

—A terrible ripping noise thunders through the brig, the ship lurches as if yanked by a crane, and when Raum stumbles to catch himself against the wall, his feet slosh ankle-deep through water.