Chapter Sixty-Four
“The wedding was marvelous, as was the wedding night… but losing that one?” Ulbert shook his head as they listened to the shame-faced guard explain how everybody was so busy celebrating the wedding of their Queen ‘as faithful subjects ought to do’ that they were intoxicated to extreme levels and passed out.
“And worse, he’s not anywhere… he’s a Cardinal, you don’t just misplace one of those. How did he get out of the castle? How did he get out of the cell?” The Empress asked, staring straight into the very soul of the trembling, somewhat top heavy guard.
“We-We don’t know, we searched everywhere, we brought in the magic caster… they had keys, how they got them… it’s… we just don’t know, Majesty. Somebody got inside and got’im out while…” His wheezy voice trailed off and his red flushed face deepened in its crimson display.
“While you were all passed out drunk.” Ulbert finished for him. “On my old world, the punishment of soldiers was impalement. Do you have that here?”
“What’s that?” The Queen asked of the demon at her side. The throne on which he sat had been a gift of the Sorcerer King, and it fit her demon lord to perfection, being carved of obsidian and lined with red rubies, it seemed to glow with mystic power, intricate designs on it suggested dwarven runes were at play, but also the tiniest details of figures at war could be viewed if one looked closely enough. For good measure, she’d had her own throne replaced with one of white and gold as a contrast to that of her husband, carved from ivory and with contrasting motifs of angels and dragons, it made for a proper match between the two.
“You take a man, put a sharp wooden stake against his ass, and lift him up on it, his body weight drags him down, and he dies as his organs are pierced and it eventually comes out the top.” Ulbert explained, and while the Empress turned faintly green, the guard wet himself.
“No… I’ve never done that.” The Empress answered truthfully.
“How do you treat guards who get drunk on duty and let important prisoners escape?” Ulbert asked, cocking his goat head slightly toward her, she explained…
“If they were involved, hang them. If not, send them to the front lines.”
“There are no front lines anymore… but there is a border.” Ulbert pointed out, “Perhaps it’s time to build some new fortresses there, and we’ll need people to man them.”
The guard rapidly began to babble, “Of course! Yes, I will build a mighty fort and man it for life to thank you for your mercy!” It was a wheezy, squeaky sort of voice, and Ulbert gave a nod to a guard on the far side of the wall.
“Take this one and arrange for ‘transportation’. We’ll send him tomorrow after arranging for some ‘comrades’ to join him.” Ulbert gave the order, and the guilty drunkard slumped with relief.
“We can find out how he escaped later, the important thing to remember here is that their debt is not erased. Whether Dominic went back to them or died along the way, who cares? The debt is a debt and if they fail to compensate us for the damage he caused, then I will go to their country and cause a great deal more.” Ulbert promised, and Draudillon put her hand on his own.
“You have the makings of a fine Emperor, my husband, and I have absolutely no doubt that you will make a fine father to the future Prince, or Princess, as well.” She said with a wink.
It took him a moment to grasp the import of her words, but when he did, he called out, “Drunkards or no, everybody gets at least one cup today!”
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
“I will pass, husband, I used to drink too much anyway.” The Empress said before the rest of the royal court erupted in cheers that lasted for hours.
And that was just the start of yet another celebration that would last for weeks and spread all over the Empire, from the smallest towns to the largest cities, even to the very halls of Nazarick.
Ainz sat on the throne of Nazarick and glanced down at the place where Ulbert typically would have stood. At least in the days when the guild was at its height. Now? ‘He’s in this world, but he’s busy with his new bride, his new Empire…’
Demiurge was here at least, but he too was frequently absent, though for now he was present as he was reading out the terms of acceptance for drawing the Draconic Empire into the fold. But the truth was, Ainz was barely paying attention. He was looking away at the spot where Ulbert should have been… He waved a dismissive hand, “Yes, Demiurge it will be fine, send it to my office and I will affix my seal later. I’m sure my good friend wouldn’t request unfair terms.”
“Naturally, Lord Ainz.” Demiurge’s smile was as cheerful as ever, his tail lashed at his back, but a few feet away, Albedo chimed in before the archdevil could say anything more.
“Lord Ainz, it seems that my creator, Tabula Smaragdina, might have been sighted…” She put her hand out to touch his shoulder before Ainz could shoot to his feet. “It isn’t confirmed, My Lord, but it’s possible that there is a sighting in Lord Ulbert’s territory.”
Ainz felt his heart sing. ‘Tabula?!’ He felt his heart lighten and he reflexively looked toward the space in the throne room where Tabula once stood, but his suppressor struck at once, and he put his skeletal hand over Albedo’s own which still rested on his shoulder. “Your creator, I’m sure you’d want to see him…”
“I would, My Lord. But I understand why you might forbid me… my duty is here, with you.” She bowed her head demurely, and Ainz gave his head a vigorous shake.
“No, Ulbert has his items, his weapons, and it is on his land… go, take the escort you see fit, join him in investigating, a few days, a week… What does it matter? Get word to him, we should observe the diplomatic niceties involved at least.” Ainz’s voice was jovial despite his suppressor, as he could at least embrace the role of emotion that he longed to feel, even if he could not feel the thing itself.
Demiurge bowed at the waist and tucked the rolled up treaty under one arm. “I will get word to him at once. Of course, there are some other small matters, My Lord, but they are of trivial nature, and I will attend to those myself.”
“Thank you, Demiurge, forgive me, I am a trifle distracted today.” Ainz admitted that much freely, at least. The news of Ulbert becoming a father had sent shockwaves and delight throughout the tomb, but while Ainz was gleeful for his old friend’s growing family, a part of him too, mourned.
‘He has a wife, a child on the way… of course he can’t spend all his time with you… you knew that.’ Ainz told himself, and for once was grateful for his emotional suppressor.
"Just put it over there." Remedios snapped as the little box was hauled into her office by the two paladin archers. Those did all her grunt work now, all the jobs nobody else wanted to do, whether it was cleaning shit trenches or hauling wood, drawing water for the units... the archers did it 'all' and it was satisfying to the brown-haired head of the order to have it be that way.
Not because they were guilty of anything, but because 'that one' was. 'Fucking squire, fucking bitch... absolute trash, treasonous and vile... can't they see she's leading us away from the gods and toward the reign of the undead?! How is everybody so blind?!' Remedios wondered.
She sighed and got up, reading that document had been hard to do. Writing things on it was even worse. She shook her head and pulled on the rope that would call for a soldier. All those who worked for her directly were literate, so it would be easy. A young man entered, "Get to work, sign those things, read it, put my stamp on it, and leave it for me to send out, I have to make sure I look at all the signatures to ensure they match at least."
"Yes, ma'am." The archer said and trudged past her to start doing her work for her.
'It's all their faults. All theirs, if they'd minded that one better...' Part of her knew it wasn't 'all' the squire's fault. Jaldabaoth and the Sorcerer King were to blame too, but it was worse with her because she was human, now she didn't answer to anyone, and had the ear of the King himself, while Remedios could barely get permission to come into the palace for an audience. 'Damn you, Neia Baraja...' She cursed and opened up the box of coins, she took a handful out, these constituted her pay, mostly taken from aid dispatched from the Slane Theocracy, she was expected to spend most of it in such a way as to employ workers. But as her hands closed around the handful of coins, she closed her eyes. 'Damn it all... it all seems so hopeless... everybody is against me... maybe I could indulge just a 'little' for my own sake. I deserve it.' Remedios told herself, and left the archer behind to go out on her own to the nearest officer's bar.