1 One famous tale centers around the town of Blackbridge in the east of Itreya. Ernesto Giancarli, confessor of Aa’s church, was sent by the grand cardinal to investigate claims that several daughters of the town’s more well-to-do gentry had been seduced by a darkin. Each of these unions had resulted in a child—black of hair and eye, the same pale skin as their father supposedly had. Each of the ladies in question was resolute in her tale—wandering in the woods, they had come across a handsome stranger, and, innocent as babes, had fallen to his dark charms. Though Giancarli investigated extensively, no trace of this darkin could be found, and though they almost certainly shared a common father by their look, the children themselves seemed perfectly normal. The confessor comforted the fathers of the girls by assuring them it was entirely possible a darkin was responsible, and returned to Godsgrave to report an inconclusive finding to his cardinal.
Giancarli did note in his report that Blackbridge’s young constable—a pale, dark-haired fellow by the name of Delfini, appointed to the role some twelve months previous—had been most helpful throughout his investigation.
Chapter 12: Questions
1 Though declared a heresy, in the absence of complete eradication by the Luminatii, the Red Church has struck something of an accord with various authorities across the Itreyan Republic. Due to the power of Aa’s Church and the recent and infamous attempt on Consul Scaeva’s life during the Truedark Massacre, very few members of Godsgrave’s nobility have direct dealings with the disciples of the Night Mother. But in more cosmopolitan vassal states of the Republic—such as the court of the Vaanian king, Magnussun IV—the Red Church is openly recognized, and a disciple held on permanent retainer.
The benefits of this arrangement are twofold; good King Magnussun can of course rid himself of his enemies quietly should the need arise, but more important, while he retains the services of a Church Blade, the king also has no fear of a rival hiring a Blade to dispatch him. This is a golden rule of Red Church negotiations, and one that has seen them rise in favor over other murderers for hire; while employing a Blade, one’s life is considered off-limits to other Blades of Niah.
Of course, the fees to employ one of the finest assassins in the Republic on permanent retainer are so pants-wettingly exorbitant that only a king can afford it for long. Still, it can be said that of all Itreya’s rulers, Magnussun IV probably sleeps the soundest, his slumber only occasionally disturbed at yearsend by nightmares about the impending arrival of the Church’s bill.
2 The Itreyan week consists of seven turns, one for each of Aa’s four daughters, and one for each of his three eyes. Niahan heretics speak of a time before the Maw was banished from the sky, when Aa claimed only one turn in the week for himself, and granted another to his bride.
The heretics make no mention of who the seventh turn may have belonged to.
Chapter 13: Lesson
1 Purple has been the color of prestige in the Republic since the time of the revolution, in which Itreya’s last king, Francisco XV, was overthrown.
Purple dye is made from the crushed petals of a bloom that grows only on the mountainous border between Itreya and Vaan. Almost impossible to cultivate, the flower was named Liberis—“Freedom” in old Itreyan. The Republicans who murdered Francisco adopted it as the symbol of their cause, pinning a bloom to their breasts at court gatherings to indicate their allegiance to the conspiracy.
Whether this is simple romantic fancy is up for debate, but the fact remains that only senators are now permitted to don the color in public. Any pleb caught in purple is likely to suffer the same fate as poor Francisco XV—which is to say, find themselves brutally murdered in front of their entire family.
What actually constitutes the color purple is somewhat open to interpretation, of course. Lilac might be forgivable, for example, if the sitting magistrate was in a generous mood. Periwinkle could be argued to be more blue than purple, and likewise violet, but amethyst would almost certainly be pushing the friendship.
Mauve, of course, is right out.
Chapter 15: Truth
1 Listening in over midmeal a few turns later, Mia would learn the boy called himself “Pip,” and that his muttered conversations were not being conducted with himself, but rather with his knife—a long, cruel dagger that he’d apparently dubbed “the Lovely.”
2 Slavery in Itreya is a highly codified affair, with an entire wing of the Administratii devoted to regulation of the market. Slaves come in three flavors, depending on their skill sets, and, thus, monetary value.
The first are the commonplace sort of chattel—laborers, housebodies, and the like—who are branded arkemically with a single circle on their right cheek. The second are those trained for warfare—gladiatii, houseguards, and slave legions, marked with two circles, intertwined. The third, and most valuable, are those with a degree of education, or some valuable skill. Musicians, scribes, concubines, and so forth, who are branded with three interlocking circles denoting their superior worth.
The removal of these arkemical brands is a painful, expensive, and secretive process, tightly guarded by the Administratii. To earn their freedom, a slave must not only save enough coin to buy themselves from their masters, but also pay for the removal of their brand. It is no surprise, then, that most slaves in the Republic wear the mark to their graves.
3 Also known as “kingslayer,” red dahlia was considered the poison of choice during the tenure of the Itreyan monarchy. Owing to the rarity of the bloom from which it is derived, red dahlia was difficult to acquire, and, thus, more expensive than the average marrowborn wedding feast. Its use was considered both a nod of respect to the victim (its effects are rapid in onset and relatively painless) and a perverse sort of bragging on the part of the murderer (since only the wealthiest of folk could afford to employ it). During the zenith of the Itreyan monarchy, the toxin was used to assassinate no fewer than three Itreyan kings and several highly ranked members of the nobility, including two grand cardinals.
When his father died of red dahlia poisoning, the newly crowned Francisco VII declared the bloom a tool of the Maw, and ordered every plant within the borders of his realm burned. This resulted in skyrocketing inflation, and red dahlia fell quickly out of vogue with anyone who didn’t have the foresight to keep a greenhouse. Sadly, this meant less merciful concoctions like blackmark venom and the corrosive “spite” became en vogue among less well connected assassins.
As Francisco VII lay on his deathbed, screaming as a lethal dose of the latter slowly dissolved his stomach and bowels, one wonders if he had the presence of mind to appreciate the irony.
Chapter 16: Walk
1 Spiderkiller tried to poison her class twice more in the intervening weeks—the first, with a contact toxin known as “shiver,” which she dumped in the bathhouse water early one morn, and the second, where in concert with Mouser, every lock on every acolyte’s bedchamber was replaced with a Liisian needletrap tipped with enough allbane to kill a horse.
Two acolytes died from the allbane traps; an Itreyan boy named Angio, whom Mia hardly knew, and a mild-mannered girl named Larissa, who’d been one of the better students in Mouser’s class. A quiet mass was said for them in the Hall of Eulogies, attended by the novices and Ministry. The bodies were interred with the other servants of the Mother, each placed within a tomb on the walls, no names to mark their stones. Mia watched Spiderkiller through the service, looking for some hint of remorse. The woman met her eyes only once, just as the requiem was sung.