Demansk nodded. He’d hoped the woman would have yielded without resorting to torture, but hadn’t really expected it. He’d known Sandru Willech since they were both very young also—she was another child of the elite—and hadn’t liked her any more than he had Willech himself. But no one had ever accused the woman of being a coward. Even as a girl, Sandru had been tough as well as nasty.
“Too bad. I would have preferred returning her to her family. You killed her afterward, yes?”
Ulrich nodded.
“So be it,” said Demansk. “It’s easier to explain a cremated corpse than a mutilated but living matron.”
Since the thing was done, he dismissed it from his mind. “How much?”
When Ulrich told him, Demansk almost whistled with surprise. He’d known that Willech had been gouging the province mercilessly, but hadn’t expected to find that much in the way of hidden treasure.
“The rest of it?”
Bratten shrugged. “Good chunks where you’d expect them, both in the Governor’s Palace and the Treasury Office. I imagine more will turn up in his warehouses. Not much of that’ll be bullion, of course, nor even coins and gems. Goods, mostly. Linens, spices, that sort of thing.”
“Doesn’t matter. Emeralds will deal in anything without quibble, as long as they can sell it. Speaking of which—”
Bratten jerked his head toward a door on the far wall. “Eleven of them are here already, sir. More to come, you can be sure of it. They’re practically dancing in the streets out there. I told them you’d speak to them as soon as possible.”
Demansk nodded and looked to Robret Crann. The older brigade commander had been the one Demansk had selected to oversee the purely military side of the coup. He’d saved aristocratic and distinguished-looking Kirn Thatcher to settle the nerves of the Vanbert nobility resident in Solinga. By now, they’d all be as jittery as a herd of greatbeasts with the smell of predator in the air. Demansk didn’t mind the jitter—within limits, in fact, he wanted the nobility nervous and unsettled. But he didn’t want the mess which an authoritative elite driven to open resistance could create.
“Things went pretty smoothly,” reported Crann, “all things considered. Neither of Willech’s regiments ever left their compounds, although the Fourth Jallink did mill around outside the barracks for a bit. They’ll need some watching, but I don’t expect any real trouble. Not after Willech’s head goes up on the fence, for sure.”
That was as good as could be hoped for. The resentment of the Fourth Jallink Regiment was inevitable, and expected. Willech’s family were Jallink tribe themselves. But if the men of the regiment hadn’t taken up arms by now, they certainly wouldn’t do so once the news of Willech’s execution reached them. Naturally, that would increase their resentment. But without a clear pole around which opposition could crystallize, all of those soldiers would start thinking about the risks involved if they rebelled and failed. Decimation was the traditional punishment for a unit which broke and ran on the field. The traditional penalty for units which rebelled and were crushed by the “lawful authority”—that being defined by whoever emerged triumphant, of course—was the exact opposite. One man out of ten would be left alive, to spread the word concerning the penalty for mutiny.
“All right, then,” said Demansk. “In that case, I think I’ll speak with the Emerald merchants right now. The sooner we can get this behind us, and get everyone’s mind focused on the money they’re making, the better.”
* * *
Demansk always found Emerald merchants and guildmasters a bit ridiculous—although he was careful not to let any trace of his amusement show on his face. It wasn’t that they weren’t good at their business. Emerald merchants were as notorious as Islanders for their sharp and narrow trading practices—”acumen,” they liked to call it—and, in most crafts other than weaving and papermaking, their artisans were still the best in the world. Superb jewelers and metalsmiths, for a certainty.
No, it was that same old “philosophical” penchant which made all Emeralds a bit comical to Confederates.
How many Emeralds does it take to slaughter a pig?