BECMI Chapter 71 - Attendance

EBOOK SEVEN IS OUT! WOO HOO, Finally!

“Mmm.” Grandmaster Jean-Arc seemed to find the question interesting. “Well, we don’t want to cause undue stress with Sidheduiche, who might get very irate if they learn we’ve been letting some of their rivals take lessons. What is more amusing is that their own citizens almost never recognize them. But, in any event, only the Regents of the School know the minor details of why some of the elves have been expelled. Even your Princess knows of them, but she has no grounds to complain, given some of her own conflicting loyalties with her kin in Sidheduiche.”

Now wasn’t that just a bunch of morals-free politics. “Understood, sir. I’ll keep my silence on the matter. Now, is the actual existence of the shadenelves a state secret or something?”

He seemed to find that thought amusing. “No, not particularly. They’ve had large battles with witnesses in Darokin and Sidheduiche, and certainly enough stories with adventurers, even those plague-bearing dwarves.”

“Very good, sir.”

I walked out of my meeting with the Immortal sponsor of the nation of Zanzyr with some relief. If he’d been able to see more of me, he was keeping it quiet enough that it didn’t matter at this time… and he probably wanted to see the chaos it would cause…

Fenkroft. An old noble family with history across three realms… especially the realm of Oskvar.

“...and that is why this nonsense about shadenelves is clearly a sympathy ploy by the king of Sidheduiche. They are the only ones who benefit from the farcical idea of the existence of a clan of subterranean elves, and any who make mention of them should be held in proper contempt, aware of the political aspects of inventing a threat where there is none!”

“So, we should be holding Grandmaster Jean-Arc in contempt, Professor?” I asked archly into the rustlings as the dour, thin man at the front of the class finished his speech.

The chaotic, family-oriented politics of Zanzyr were lively and ever-changing, with feuds and schisms between the Princes and noble houses of far more importance than good governance and the well-being of the citizens. With the full range of arcane magicks and people with a great deal of smarts and not much common sense at play, the schemes and plots going off constantly ran through the nation from high to low, constantly finding new avenues to play out in. Attending a one-off class on political machinations, being given by a nobleman who’d somehow managed to hop through affiliations with four different Families during his progress from a mere Baron to a current Duke and keep his neck intact, meant he was a duplicitous schemer and adept at manipulating the political world.

He was also a lying fuck and a member of a noble family infamous for their hatred of elves. His family of elf-haters may have been responsible for the deaths of more elves than any other group now living, if the words of the elves of Erendyl meant anything!

His eyes fixed on me with piercing intent. “Young lady Edge, is it?” he almost managed not to sneer. “Why are you bringing up the Grand Master?”

“, published one hundred and twenty-five years ago by Nathanael Jean-Arc, concerning some of the vast cave systems in the Massif ranges bordering the lands of Verdain. The Grand Master mentions thrice meeting numbers of shadenelves, only once in hostile manners which were resolved with a bringing down the cave system upon them. There is a copy in the City Library if you care to verify my words… or you could ask the Grand Master.”

Before he could reply, I went on, “Also, there is by Prince Drakker von Jaggenfels of House Grafburg, part of his seminal work on warfare and magical theory in mass battles. He cites no less than thirty-six different sources from Federyn and twelve interviews with Sidhe warriors who were present at that battle in his recounting of the events and uses of magic employed in the course of a conflict crossing nearly two weeks of time between scouting, positioning, skirmish, feint, first combat, withdrawal, raids, guerrilla strikes, ambush, second main battle, successful flank attack, and pursuit back to caverns leading into the Underdark, along with numerous humanoid encounters during that time.

“Should we all contact the Prince and inform him that his research was in error, that the shadenelves he put all that time and effort into recreating were in fact nothing more than diplomatic lies, that the graves of the men and elves who died in the fighting were never actually dug, and the sons and daughters lost there are in fact quite alive and laughing at anyone who believes such tales? I am certain that he will be absolutely livid that he was lied to on such a scale and will go looking for the source of those fabrications.”

Fenkroft was getting very red in the face, and I was attracting a lot of direct attention.

“It is also true that one could march into Rukheim, ask the dwarves there if one wished to set up a meeting with the shadenelves, and they could likely arrange it? Of course, one would need to speak with the dwarves, not something a Zanzyran could likely arrange for or verify.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“There are at least twenty-three other published sources in the Zanzyr City Library that make mention of shadenelves in the historical wing. As you know, all of them are reviewed by the researchers there, and they are in Histories, not Journals. If your words are true, then I believe at least several of them have engaged in political misdirection at the behest of outsiders, and should lose their positions and jobs forthwith.

“In other words, Professor, this class has been marvelously instructive on your part, and you nearly pulled it off completely. Well done, sir.”

His very red face was going to purple when I said that, and he blinked in surprise. “What?” he managed to say, under the gaze of over a hundred very interested eyes.

“Your true lesson.

His jaw worked for a moment, and then his flustered expression . All the students realized the same thing instantly: that here was a master politician, and they’d just been snookered badly. “Indeed. Do go on, young Lady,” he said in a perfectly even and controlled, even smug, voice.

“You stated opinions as if they were facts. You shifted the focus of the argument from the factual existence of the shadenelves to the political usefulness of their existence being justification for them not existing.

“In other words, you threw out logic, the power and mantra of the Wizard, and replaced it with emotion, the wiles and wit of the unlearned and silver-tongued.

“Most of the student body simply is not well-read widely enough to validate the facts behind your statements, and then the artful twisting you were using to question the very validity of those facts.

“It is a textbook demonstration of the wordcrafting that takes place in Parliament and outside of it during negotiations and the passing of bills. Everyone here would have walked out convinced the shadenelves did not exist and were made up by the Sidhe elven clans to drum up sympathy and support in various political matters, instead of being what they actually are, as proven by numerous witnesses and records of virtually unassailable integrity.”

The manipulative git actually bowed to me respectfully. “Well spoken, Lady Edge. I see House Bulgarov maintains its skill in matters politic!” Duke Fenkroft smarmed wonderfully, almost hiding the daggers in his eyes.

I just inclined my head at him. “A most useful lesson, Professor. Thank you for your time.”

“And a final word to you all… ” His smile was outright sinister this time. “Even records can be falsified, sources changed, and testimony altered before or after the fact. Facts are tools in the hands of the wise Wizard!”

He was salvaging the situation, and I was letting him do so, so now he owed me. That… was really going to piss him off.

What I should have done was utterly ridicule and discredit him, driving him out of the capital and creating a massive grudge with me that he’d try to satisfy by trying to humiliate and/or kill me in turn to satisfy his house’s twisted hatred of the elves, which would give me a convenient excuse to further humiliate and kill him in turn, hopefully drawing in his relatives so that I’d have excuses to kill them, too.

In the future. There was little doubt the world would be better off without them all.

“That was so cool how you saw through Duke Fenkroft’s scheme!” Isadora gushed. She was a fiery-haired lass from the Caergard lands, emigrants from another world long ago which may or may not have been an alternate Terra, affecting a clan tartan in greens that showed off her eyes. She had promptly glommed onto me as another attractive Wizardess she could relate to, elven or no, even if my style was considerably colder than hers.

With her came a coterie of hangers-on and those desperate for attention from her, along with not a few very bookish sorts who had sort of rallied around me as the Champion of Reading.

“And you, obviously, still have not.” Her smile faltered somewhat at my cold statement, and I could see her internal sigh at my complete lack of sympathy. “Fenkroft’s noble house has been blind elf-haters for generations. It was no accident whatsoever that his attempt at misinformation was directed solidly at the elves. Isolating the Sidhe increases casualties among both them and the Shaden, while opening matters up successfully dissuades both because of the scrutiny of outside parties wondering what is actually going on. You have been ignoring your history of Houses and the grudges they carry, McMikal.

“The man is an untrustworthy viper who is very good at politics. His class was a lesson in lying and manipulating students who didn’t know better. The only way to defeat such rotten souls is to know better.”

“Verify, know your lore,” she repeated my words and one of the Mantras of Thaum, nodding in rapprochement as we approached the School’s Great Library, an edifice of knowledge which actually exceeded that of the public City Library, and the domain I had staked out as the Cold Reader.

The Library had suppressed sound throughout it, so conversations at one table never reached another, and those conversations were never louder than whispers. That made it the Wizardly equivalent of the social scene, where the smart and the powerful went to be seen seriously at work and study, as opposed to the places where spellcasting and showing off were done, which were generally away from the School proper unless they were sanctioned.

The table I preferred, off to the side and out of the way of traffic, but near to the Alchemy stacks, was hurriedly vacated by the upperclassmen lounging at it as our group came in. Actually, they were saving the seats, as all of them were students who had used my services, and made sure I wasn’t inconvenienced if I had questions.

The nearby tables had become ‘waiting stations’, as it were, with other envious students looking on as those with money purchased my services.

I had to get a license to do this outside of the School, but a student was allowed to do business with other students inside the School without such taxation. That limited the buyers, to some extent.

I set down exactly twelve inkwells, which represented how many spells I would out today. The Wand with the charges to it was recharged when I was out of the school or by my Sims, with the spare I had off-site.

I let go my Eye and the gloved Hand that accompanied me, both surrounded by red and black shadows, and they went drifting off into the stacks. Envious eyes watched them go, knowing that I was going to be using and to read things even while I was doing business.