Chapter 10.1

The eight bell was approaching when Eirwen detected someone roughly spreading their senses. She subtly moved her senses in their direction, putting aside the books that she had been combing through. Sir Caerbychan, sloppier than she was used from him. As she paid closer attention, she caught onto the reason. He was also keeping a close watch on everything near him, while staying physically alert at the same time. Three activities at the same time was hard enough to excuse it. Especially given how hard it was to observe in detail nearby, yet more loosely far away.

Next to Caerbychan walked the advisor, who was more relaxed. He kept his senses subtle, to the point that she wondered if Caerbychan could even detect him. Her curiosity got the best of her as she manifested her senses near them, allowing her to observe rather than just sense the pair.

"-an apology for overstepping. I just hope she isn't too mad... Wait." Caerbychan drew his sword in suspicion, glancing roughly in her direction. Guess she wasn't subtle enough to go undetected.

Next to him, the advisor just smiled. "I wouldn't worry about that. You were up and alert for a full day and night at that point, and had to deal with me for hours. I'm sure she understands. Right, your Grace?" He looked straight towards her. She saw Caerbychan's eyes open wide as he finally understood. Before the man could respond, she withdrew her senses.

It had always been like this, her detection better than his, his sneaking better than hers. As a result, neither could escape the other. Right now, it slightly infuriated her. Especially since yes, she understood Caerbychan had simply let his filter slip. After all, as the spy reports on the desk noted, the man had an older sister that he looked up to and eagerly supported. In his tired state, he likely had just treated Eirwen the way he would have treated his sister.

Not too long after, two double knocks rang on the door. "He may enter," she instructed while returning to the books in front of her. No clarification was needed. The doors opened and the advisor came in, leaving Caerbychan outside. He took two steps towards her, then knelt and bowed.

"Greetings, your Grace." She gestured at him to rise, which he promptly did, then left him hanging as she leafed through the accounting books some more. From the corner of her eyes, she saw him take in the state of the desk. A pile of portraits to the right of her, accounting books in front, her sword and his to her left. "Permission to speak, your Grace?"

She put the books down and looked at him, an unimpressed glare on her face. He actually was waiting for permission, wasn't he? She sighed and nodded, only then did he finally speak. "Thank you, your Grace. I see you found the ledgers and spy reports. And judging from the look on your face, you have already realised the truth to both. Is there anything you would like me to explain first?"

Straight to the point, not even trying to feign innocence. Eirwen suspected her anger had rattled him, so now he had chosen to stop hiding. Good, because she too wanted to resolve herself, but for that she had to get her answers first.

She rose to her feet, leaning on the desk while glaring at him. But when she raised her voice, it wasn't to him. "Open the door!" Her doorguards quickly swung one open and looked inside. "Stay outside and stand guard, but listen, all three of you. This involves you as well." He grimaced. No wonder, as this reveal could damage the rapport he had built with them. But there was no stopping this.

"Now you, you recognise these." She gestured at the pile of portraits. "A selection from your espionage results. Portraits of most of my knights, some other troops and servants too. With notes on the back, public, secret, some only visible through heat, others through ice. Notes for everyone to see, for your father to catch onto, and for you to keep fully private. Clever." Her deadpan tone lured out a small grimace from him. He knew she'd catch on, but the confrontation, being exposed, still made him nervous.

Eirwen reached out and took a specific portrait in her hand, turning it around to read from. "Sir Llywelyn Caerbychan, twenty-three years old. So this is at least half a year old then. Born from a merchant family. Older sister Branwen, who is heir of the family. He is known to support her well. Secretly supplies money to a younger bastard brother's family. Originally left-handed, but fights right-handed to work better in a team. A feint to his left side can lure out his original instincts and create an opening. Other distractions are unlikely to work, as he keeps his focus well."

She didn't even need her senses to realise Caerbychan's shock by the reveal. But she did have her senses spread, so the man's inner turmoil was very clear to her. Still he kept his focus, though. Admirable. Eirwen addressed her advisor once more. "Now the interesting thing here is the handwriting. The family information on these mostly comes from other people. I recognise a few of them, so there's some merchants that are about to lose their business rights in all my territories. But the combat info is almost entirely by your hand. Strengths, weaknesses, methods to deal with them fast in a fight. All your personal analysis."

Eirwen put the portrait down and reached for another stack. "Oh, and there are these. I have six doorguards, rotated well, their identities kept a proper secret. Each of them I can trust with my life, even though I do not even dare think their names, never mind speak them. Yet here they are. Six portraits, six names, five family records. Weaknesses kept well-hidden, people that could be used against them, against me. And you found them all."

She slanted her head, a cynical and slightly admiring tone slipping into her voice. "The guards on my side, the knights you beat up, the people you defeated and captured throughout the war. All here, and oft investigated before you even went up against them in combat for the first time. All I can say is that you have been extremely busy. And yet I have seen no traces of you actually using this information against me. How come?"

Eirwen could feel the tension, not just from him, but also from their observers, as she insisted on digging that out. He sighed deeply, then faced her with a wry smile. "Because it's revolting. Go after innocent people to try to get to you? It'd take a lot to get me to be willing to do so. Figure out how to best defeat people, sure, but cohercion? Only as a last resort, if ever I needed to end the war fast. It's a card you can play only once, from a deck I'd rather burn than wield."

He sounded bitter. "But yes, I prepared the option. Send letters to your people to put pressure on them, make them hesitate, make them doubt each other. Strike hard and fast in the confusion, take down your security detail no matter the cost, take you captive. It was an option I never wanted to use, but I made sure I had it available anyway."

As he leaned back against the side of the couch, he sent an apologetic glance at their observers. The doorguards were still facing the corridor, so only Sir Caerbychan would see it well. "So that is the lesson you wanted to teach your people. Do not get too chummy with me, because I am despicable underneath my playful behaviour. Remember that I am, always was, always will be, a threat."

His face moved towards her again, a bit of hesitation, but also resolution, in his eyes. "But that's not why I'm truly here. You have the ledgers, which I never even got to touch. So what is it you need me to explain about those, your Grace?"

Eirwen leaned against the desk, taking a ledger in her hand and leaving through it. "The treasury ledgers are indeed quite interesting. They confirm what I had heard rumours of, that your father kept all our ransom payments to himself. I can tell you messed with the books a bit sometimes, because the numbers don't entirely match up, but almost all of the money made its way to the Flameheart treasury. And in turn, your father only paid for his own troops' ransoms, not the council's. I'm guessing their coffers have been bleeding dry almost as much as ours."

No surprise, really. The man always had been greedy. But that wasn't the point here. "And then, three days ago, the council absconds with two fifths of the treasury. More, even, but some added estimates of possessions they were surrendering in turn. All in all a net two fifths, calculated to the precise coin. That is not a frightful ransack, but an extremely deliberate number. The kind of number that originates not from themselves, but from their superior. Isn't it about time you explain to me what exactly your three orders to them were?"