11.1.0

"Lord Blackpool, as you requested, I found out why the advisor you appointed to oversee Dagonia's administration has not reported back," Cai announced deferentially. He had suspected all along that the prince's belief that Zyrdicia would have little interest in the province was mistaken. He feared the prince's otherwise flawless judgment was being clouded by their limited romantic involvement a few weeks ago, though he was well aware that giving voice to such a suggestion would be suicidal.

"Good. And?"

"The Baroness apparently found him annoying and disemboweled him publicly, eliciting cheers from the populace. His corpse was found up near the mines, fluttering from a banner pole."

"When?"

"It's hard to tell. Animals got to the body. The most surprising thing is that none of the usual spies in that area reported the event. Naturally, I sent a few trustworthy men to make sure that all is well up there. They just reported back. Vigilante groups of peasants have apparently taken it upon themselves to lynch any suspected former Blue Thorn collaborators, along with supporters of the old baron, informants to the South, informants to the Crown, or anyone else who does not display fanatical, religious loyalty to Zyrdicia. They have been indiscriminate in their choice of victims. As a result, information flowing out of the province has come to a stand still."

"Are they doing this under her command?" the prince asked very quietly, his eyes narrowing.

"Probably not. It looks like they are merely inspired by her and acting on their own impulses. There is a bizarre form of anarchy governing - no sheriffs, no law makers, no troops, no administration at all. They are doing what they think she wants them to do."

"Peasants do not think," Dirk said flatly.

"Nevertheless, pleasing her seems to be the absolute law up there."

"How much time has she actually spent in Dagonia?" Dirk asked suspiciously, slowly realizing that there may have been far more to her absences than destruction in Camarand. As far as he knew, she had not even had time to visit the barony yet.

"She has been there every night, almost all night. She is often there during the day, as well. She has reduced the labor force in the mines to one-third its usual staff in order to decrease surt production. She even closed several of the mines, sealing them off completely. She tripled the pay of the miners working in the sections she left open. The workers removed from the mine work are now engaged in a host of strange construction projects, including some sort of large structure near the great lake. They, too, are being showered in kolnas. That alone would explain the fanatical loyalty to her."

Dirk sighed in disgust. He had initially feared she was perpetrating some sort of treachery, but upon hearing word of her inane expenditures, it was clear to him that it was mere incompetence. She had no idea what she was doing. In his mind it was typical for a woman to be incapable of making rational judgments about such things.

She was not supposed to involve herself in the province at all. He would have to take matters in hand himself before she created larger problems. She would have no choice but to let one of his more capable administrators take charge of the situation. He knew now that he had permitted her far too much autonomy upon her return. He resolved to rectify the situation immediately.

Despite the late hour, the prince rode out to Dagonia with a large contingent of his soldiers. He intended to restore order there personally. As they approached the main town, located near the former location of Dagon Castle, they encountered well-organized groups of serfs hard at work improving the road. The workers seemed unperturbed by their night labor. The prince's party thundered past them.

The settlement's entrance was marked by a long series of alternating banners strung up on tall poles lining each side of the road. Flags bearing the Blackpool crest alternated with Zyrdicia's dagger symbol. Several of the poles bearing her insignia had corpses in various states of decay lashed to them.

Dirk blinked for an instant when he saw the town. His recollection of its location was further up the hill, directly below the former baron's residence. The entire community had been picked up and moved several hundred yards.

Just as strange, it might easily have been the middle of the day. The town buzzed with activity. Far from teeming with chaos, it looked like a model of efficiency and productivity. Smiling peasants toiled happily in various construction projects, oblivious to the fact that it was the middle of the night. There were no slackers to be seen. They seemed obsessed with their tasks, encouraging each other to work harder without the need for direct supervision or threats.

A new market bustled with activity in the town square. Everywhere, violet light from floating, glass orbs illuminated the streets festively. As people recognized their monarch's arrival, they cheered. Blackpool was accustomed to being greeted by cringing and fear, not adulation. To his dismay, the townsfolk met his arrival with calls of "Hail Karteia!" and "Long live the Prince!" An occasional "Strength to the faithful!" echoed in the chorus of voices.

"Where is the Baroness?" he demanded.

A hundred hands moved at once to point far up the hill, above the castle ruin. There, a massive scaffolding spanned the mountain pass out of which spilled the headwaters of the River of Despair. He spurred his horse and headed up the hill. Zyrdicia was easy to track by the melodic sound of her laughter near the base of the scaffolding.

She stood with a small group of foreign-looking men who held large drawings up for her to see. The prince's eyes widened when he saw Blix, the leader of his diminutive jynx warriors, among the group. The monstrous little creature stood upon a boulder in order to be at eye level with her. It pointed excitedly from the drawing to a large rock formation in the distance. She nodded and smiled, listening intently. Blix froze when he saw Blackpool arrive. She turned around suddenly.

Dirk noted that whatever was going on here filled her with glee. "Hi," he greeted coldly. He was pleased that she looked surprised by his sudden arrival on the scene. He did not move to take her hand to kiss it.

"What are you doing here?" she asked suspiciously.

"I might ask the same of you, my dear."

"I'm having fun. You are undoubtedly here to try to spoil it," Zyrdicia smiled thinly. She had not expected her discover her game so soon. This was a rather unfortunate surprise. He looked very angry. She chose to ignore it and started to introduce him to Blix.

"We are well acquainted," the prince said sharply. The little creature hopped off his rock and scurried away into the darkness. "How do you know him?"

"I found their lair up in the rocks by the lake. They amuse me. Their language is a dialect of ancient goblin mixed with an archaic form of elvish from my world. They have no nouns in it. Everything is described in terms of its function or use." She added with a sneer, "For reasons I cannot understand, they insist on calling you 'The One Who Terrifies.'"

"How flattering," he said disinterestedly. "Surely he wasn't here to discuss his race's grammar with you."

"No. He is giving my engineers needed information about the rock strata. Or at least he was, until you frightened him away," she replied, looking at his face carefully. "You are angry about something and came to quarrel. Shall we get started?"

"No. There will be no argument. You will return with me to Castle Blackpool at once."

"Why?" she asked snidely. "Upset that I've been ignoring you, perhaps?"

"My will that you return is the only reason you require!"

Zyrdicia rolled her eyes and burst out in a song of icy laughter. "I suppose that statement is as good a place to start an argument as any. Do you want to hurl the first insult, or shall I?"

"Come!" he ordered.

"Should we practice 'sit,' 'heel' and 'stay', too? We have 'attack' down pretty well," she taunted.

"I'm pleased that you at least still recognize your master."

"Unfortunately, I have a habit of turning on those claiming mastery over me. I have a rather vicious bite. You might find your hunting dogs more responsive to your 'will' this evening." She arched an eyebrow then added, "Not that you haven't probably already discovered that."

"Do not mock me!"

"But you so deserve it!" she countered. "Did you ride out here just for verbal sparring or are we fighting about anything in particular?"

"My displeasure in your activities."

"Or lack thereof?" she goaded.

He continued undaunted, "You failure to inform me of your disposal of the province's administrator. Your attempt to abrogate our agreement by decreasing the mine's productivity. Your ineptitude with administration. The province will be overseen by one of my ministers, effective immediately."

"Oh, that," she waved her hand dismissively. "You will have to find a more interesting topic to keep me involved in the confrontation. This one is insipid. If you cannot find a more clever issue to argue about, I have more important things to do."

"This is not a game and I am not amused," he said very quietly, his tone lethal. "We will depart for Castle Blackpool NOW."

"Forget it! You came without me -- you can return the same way." She traced a gloved index finger upon one of the silver studs adorning the leather covering his chest, then whispered very seriously, "This is my toy. I intend to play."

He gathered her hands in his, pressing them together painfully. "I will not permit you break this toy - or our agreement," he said sharply.

"I admit that I like to break things," she smiled shrewdly, unperturbed by his demeanor. "But someone has given you a very misleading impression of my work here. That is what happens when spies are too stupid to understand that which they are spying upon. You should know better." She glanced at his hands, still firmly squeezing her own. His angry grip was tight enough that anyone else would have cried out in pain. Her eyes twinkled mischievously. She jeered, "If you intend for that to hurt, I'm afraid your effort is a bit pathetic tonight."

'You forget that I too have a fondness for breaking toys," he said menacingly, his gloved hands crushing the bones of her hands brutally.

"Better," she mused. "Though still very disappointing."

He responded by altering his grip to take hold of her wrists in order to twist them both behind her back. The blatant disrespect and mockery enraged him as few things did, particularly given that they were out in public where anyone might hear it. He had a reputation to maintain in front of his soldiers and subjects, after all. He was certain the position would put an agonizing strain upon the joints of both her shoulders and her forearms. The move had the effect of pulling her close to him. His eyes radiated fury. "Daring me to hurt you when I am angry is very dangerous," he whispered near her ear.

"Are you trying to deter me or encourage me?" she breathed, sighing in bliss. She was already deep within her private realm of sensory euphoria. Her head rolled forward to rest against the armor at his right shoulder as a faint moan escaped her lips.

His eyes narrowed as he realized just how much she was enjoying the confrontation. She was in rapture. He should have expected as much from her. Wrath was pointless when it did nothing but entertain her. It only rewarded her for vexing him.

The unabashed delight on her face caused his anger and irritation to collapse. Several weeks had passed since the night he spent in her residence, but he recognized the expression on her face immediately. He remembered now that there were better ways to control her than belligerence. "If you claim to still be disappointed, I will know that you are lying. Transport us to my chambers now," he commanded coolly, his lips barely grazing her cheek.

"I confess I find this reason to return far more compelling than the last one you gave me," she whispered breathlessly.

"Then submit to that compulsion. You will undoubtedly find it more rewarding than causing administrative havoc here," he coaxed in a silken tone. On his shoulder, he watched her brow furrow as the physical sensation she craved competed against her innate, childish stubbornness in the calculus of her ego.

"Mm...but that would be too much like losing," she answered quietly, pulling her arms from his grasp effortlessly. The ease with which she extricated herself left no room for doubt that the episode had been entirely consensual. Had she chosen to oppose his grip, the stolen strength of the fire giant flowing through her body would have ensured that he would have been unable to hold her. She did not move away from him, however. Her head remained on his shoulder and her newly liberated arms settled upon the armor at his chest. She sighed heavily.

Despite her obstinateness, he was pleased that she was now far more docile than she had been a few moments ago. "Why do you bother to resist?" he wondered triumphantly, one arm moving around her shoulders.

"Winning is everything," she said quietly, pulling away, despite the urge she now had to nuzzle contentedly against him. A sensual, satisfied smile emerged as she stretched her arms. "Walk with me and I will show you why. You can discover for yourself what your spies didn't see."

"Then we will depart for Castle Blackpool with no more discussion."

"Agreed," she grinned. She was certain that she had won the game. She had turned the argument to her own advantage and distracted him. And she was about to ensure that there would be no more efforts to interfere with her use of her toy. She lied, "Starting with the issue of the mines. I had to decrease production to keep the sudden supply of arcanium flooding the market from undermining the current high price. It is too precious a commodity to store - it would invite theft - so I had to drastically curtail the amount mined in order to keep the price stable. We will profit more by selling less of it."

She had, in fact, sealed some of the mines from the surface in order to teleport in dwarven slaves directly from Lyr. She would only be paying him for a fraction of the arcanium actually mined. The sums of money she tossed his way would be sufficiently large by the standards of this world, however, that he would never suspect it.

Her expression was completely ingenuous as she explained, "Moving on to the dead minister-George, or whatever his name was. You can't really hold me responsible. He brought it on himself. That fat, worthless blob was a parasite, a pox on imagination and productivity. I was sure that you must have sent him because you wanted me to kill him. I assumed he was supposed to be a plaything. I could not imagine that you would send such a weak, sniveling, unsightly, whining creature for any other reason." She smiled pleasantly, "Your kingdom is more aesthetically pleasing without him in it."

Despite his previous anger, her rationalization could only amuse Dirk. It was just this sort of petulant cruelty that made her so very charming. He had no intention of letting her know that, however. After all, her behavior made clear that the game was very much back under way - and he had no intention of losing.

As he considered her explanation for "closing" the mines, she led him a short distance from where they had been standing under the scaffolding. From the new vantage point they had a better view of the project's enormity. Massive magical walls now directed the water gushing out of the mountain pass. She gestured to it and declared proudly, "This will soon be the largest dam in the material plane. It will completely restrict the flow of the River of Despair. The river will dry to a trickle when the dam is finished. I haven't decided yet whether I will sell the water to the rest of the continent, or watch them dry up and wither away for amusement."

Dirk stared at it. "You are going to turn Camarand into a desert," he realized in astonishment.

"Obviously," she nodded. The dam would create an environmental disaster as sweeping than any she could create by magic. "And your spies were too blind to see something a half mile wide in plain view."

He turned suddenly and looked down the hill at the village in its new location. He remarked, "And you have moved Dagontown directly in the path of the water, should the dam break."

"Moving an entire village with magic was exhausting, but it will prevent sabotage in the long run. Surely the southern knights would not attack the dam if it would mean obliterating a town full of blameless civilians?" she asked innocently.

"Of course not," the prince smiled darkly. Excitement erased any lingering trace of irritation. His mood was improving by the minute. This was very good news. Without water, the South would have to surrender or slowly perish. "Show me the rest," he commanded affably.

She led him down toward the bustling community, chattering happily as they walked, "I increased their pay to boost productivity and morale. The cost is trivial in comparison to the arcanium revenue. They think in sending me, you have delivered them from an age of darkness. You had made them all so miserable that they would do anything for me now. I have them working day and night, and they love me for it. I could ask them to sacrifice their own children to ensure future prosperity, and they wouldn't hesitate. Maybe in a few weeks, for the equinox."

They entered the space of the new market. Stalls offered foodstuffs and luxuries previously unknown to common folk. This bustling market rivaled even the bazaars of Baaldorf in quantity and variety of wares. Zyrdicia explained, "The peasants' happiness is compounded by the fact that they have access to basic consumer goods never before available here. And now they have the income to purchase them.'

"How noble," the prince commented dryly, his expression suggestion that he thought it was anything but.

"Not really. I pay them, then they give it all back to me in the market. Their hunger for goods compels them to work longer and longer hours. They become eager slaves to their consumption. And, incidentally, all of this is technically foreign trade, imported from Lyr, so you profit in the equation as well."

A group of laughing children ran up to them throwing flowers at their feet. "Hail Landeshexa! Hail Karteia!" Elsewhere, groups of townspeople spontaneously burst into patriotic hymns as the pair sauntered past.

"As I said, they adore me for it. My first Aparansian temple is being constructed on the site of the old castle," Zyrdicia continued, pointing to another scaffolding in the distance. "When it's done, I'll import a priesthood from Lyr to begin holding religious services in my honor." The conceit in her voice suggested that she believed the worship was precisely what she deserved. She thrived off of it, in fact.

Her hand slipped around Dirk's forearm as they walked. She pointed out various construction projects, and their link to her profit matrix. All of it worked harmoniously to create an obedient, productive, adoring labor force to create enormous amounts of wealth for her, and for the North. She watched his face as he absorbed it. It was impressive, and she knew it.

They stopped walking near the point where he had left his soldiers. "So, are you still irritated with my involvement with the province's administration?" she asked hopefully.

"You should have told me about the dam."

"I didn't want to waste a busy monarch's time until the design is finalized. It is still preliminary. If it breaks and washes the Dagontown away, I have to start over," she shrugged, as though such a calamity would be an annoying inconvenience.

He could not fail to notice the effectiveness of her weird creativity here. His most rebellious, impoverished province had become a bastion of nationalism and productivity in just a few weeks. He also could not fail to notice how much fun she was having with it. Dirk arched an eyebrow and observed, "For someone who professes to despise pigs and peasants, you seem to have become rather attached to them."

"Not pigs and peasants," she scoffed. "Profit and platinum! Power and propaganda! Priests and..."

"Prevarication? Or perhaps provocation?" Dirk suggested, amused.

"I will admit to the latter, but I adamantly deny the former!" she laughed. Her expression became playful as another alliterative set of words occurred to her. She leaned close to his ear and whispered, "And, lest I forget -- prince and pleasure."

"I'm afraid your recent behavior might lead me to question that last motive," he challenged. He was well aware that she had been avoiding him since her return.

She looked into his eyes and held is gaze, meeting his challenge. She whispered mischievously, "My motives change like the weather."

"And does the wind blow fair weather or foul?" he wondered, already well aware of what the answer must be.

"A hellacious tempest is on horizon, I suspect," she grinned, pondering the next word game momentarily before adding, "The harbingers suggest howling winds, hot rains and harrowing waves may soon come crashing against your holdings."

He brought his hands to settle possessively upon her arms, just below shoulders. "Against my holdings?" he asked, his eyes widening ironically. "How horrid."

"Horrifying and horrendous, too," she nodded, her eyes full of mirth.

"After the frigid temperatures we've been having, the return to a more heated weather sounds quite heartening," he responded, his lips curling.

"Not to mention harmful," she added quietly, looking away. Her expression's mirth drained to be replaced by something very different. Their eyes met again, and in that instant the irresistible compulsion experienced at the ruin and at her residence seemed to manifest itself anew. As though invoked by an unknown spell, the sudden allure obliterated awareness of anything but itself.

"Well, then, we really should seek shelter before this tempest you promise hits." The leather of his gloves to creaked softly as his hands tightened slightly around her arms, drawing her slightly nearer.

"Too late, I'm afraid," Zyrdicia whispered, a moment before their lips met in a long, stormy kiss. It was the first such display of affection between them since her return. The explosive chemistry of the antagonistic attraction momentarily eclipsed the manipulative motives each harbored in the gesture.

11.1.1

In the days that followed, Dagonia transformed rapidly. Economic progress that should have taken a generation occurred in a fortnight. Zyrdicia's projects sucked up the available labor in the region, creating a steady migration of freemen into her barony. Goods from her market flowed outward into the rest of Karteia as her newly affluent serfs traded with their friends and relatives. Merchants from other northern provinces came to purchase there, transforming Dagonia into a regional financial hub.

Food was no longer scarce as an array of artificially affordable tropical sea food, exotic fruits, and rich confections mingled with the endless stream of grain and other staples flowing out of Lyr into the North through the Dagonian market. The sudden economic miracle generated an unprecedented sense of excitement. By contrast, the people of the South were forced to endure rationing of food for the first time in several generations. In a single season, the fortunes of the realms had reversed themselves. To the people of Karteia, there could be no doubt as to who was responsible.

The sense of wonder touched virtually everyone in Castle Blackpool. Almost overnight, every soldier garrisoned in the castle sported a tattoo of Zyrdicia's symbol. Servants whispered in awe about the great things afoot. Zyrdicia's laughter seemed to echo in every hallway. The guards hung on her every word. Blackpool's dour advisors smiled and tripped over one another when she walked into a room. Even the prince's humor was suddenly better than anyone could remember.

Small impromptu shrines dedicated to her divine alter-ego appeared unbidden in random corners of the castle, always heaped with flowers. It was truly season of Saxarba.