The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 323

Chapter 323

My eyes snapped open and I twisted to look at the “guard.” Sitting next to me was a red-faced old man, his graying hair matted and sticking out at odd angles. He let out a belch, filling the small carriage with the stench of his alcoholic breath.

“Alaric, how...” I trailed off, waving the fumes away from my face.

‘The gentleman sure knows how to make an entrance,’ Regis joked, chuckling inside my head.

Alaric gave me a half-cocked smirk. “You didn’t think I was just going to let you get arrested without paying what you owe me now, did you?”

I shook my head in wonder. “You can’t fool me, old man. You wouldn’t risk squeezing into that armor just for a few pieces of treasure—”

“But you did get some accolades in there, right?” he asked, his bloodshot eyes widening. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but you’re in deep shit, pretty boy—and a little gold would go a long way to turning the right ears. Or a lot of gold, if you’ve got it.”

I rolled my eyes, but felt in my dimensional storage rune for one of the items Caera and I had taken from the Spear Beaks’ hoard of treasures. It was a sheath for a shortsword, made of deep red leather and inset with gemstones, a couple of which were missing.

Barely looking at the “accolade,” as the Alacryans called the treasures unearthed from the Relictombs, I tossed it into Alaric’s lap. “Consider it a down payment, but you don’t get the rest until I get out of this mess.”

The old man ran his fingers appraisingly along the leather, pausing greedily at the gemstones. “Well then, this will do nicely.” Alaric shot me a covert look from the corner of his eye. “And you’ve got more like this?”

I held back an amused laugh, not wanting the driver to overhear. “Enough to keep you drunk until your dying day.”

Alaric’s eyes closed and he leaned back, a serene peacefulness falling across his face. “Just what I’ve always wanted to hear...”

At least he’s easy to please.

‘But what can this drunk really do to help us out here?’ Regis wondered.

“Now,” I said soberly, “what do you know about this trial? There has to be more to this than what they’re saying.”

Alaric’s face fell and he shot me a dirty look, like I’d just woken him from a pleasant dream. “The Granbehls are about tops for a named blood. They don’t swing as big a stick as the highbloods, but they’ve been pushing for highblood status for years—sponsoring ascenders, buying up property in the first two levels, currying favor with the Sovereigns, that kind of thing.

“This Kalon boy was the rising star of Blood Granbehl, from what I’ve heard. Good-looking, talented, good instincts both in and out of the Relictombs...you get the picture.”

I was nodding along with what Alaric was saying. “Likely to be the future head of the house?”

Alaric nodded in return as he stored the sheath in his dimension ring and rested his shortsword against the side of the carriage so he could get more comfortable. “A shoo in, yes. His death is a hard blow for Blood Granbehl.”

“But ascenders die in the Relictombs all the time,” I said, half to myself. “I’ve seen it first hand in the convergence zone. Most of the mages who entered that place didn’t leave.”

“Aye, but an experienced ascender who doesn’t want to take on too much risk can make some good will and a name for himself by leading preliminary ascents for noble brats,” Alaric said sagely.

For a moment I was reminded why I had agreed to work with the old drunk in the first place. Despite his lack of grace, Alaric was very perceptive. Then he belched loudly, and I wondered, not for the first time, if it wasn’t all just blind luck and alcohol-inspired overconfidence.

“Damned armor’s too bloody tight,” he grumbled, tugging at the edges of the blackened steel chestplate.

“So they’re angry about losing their heir apparent, but how does pinning his murder on me help?” I asked, frowning across the carriage at Alaric.

“Not sure yet, to be honest, but this”—he tapped his dimension ring, indicating the jeweled sheath—“will help make tongues wag. You’re right, though. It doesn’t make sense on the face of it. Proving murder in the Relictombs...well, it’s damned tricky, especially with only one eyewitness.”

“Two,” I said, my frustration bleeding into my tone, “but they’re refusing to let Caera act as a witness on my behalf.”

“Caera, is it?” Alaric waggled his thick eyebrows up and down, an expression that reminded me of Regis for some reason. “Spent some quality time with the highblood beauty in the Relictombs, aye? Shared a few romantic evenings slaughtering beasts, then cuddled by the fire, still crusty with blood from the day’s fighting...” He trailed off under the weight of my withering glare. “All right, don’t pop your cork, boy. All I’m saying is I know how it gets when you’re facing death every day. No one would blame you—” _{freēwēbηovel.c૦m}

“Alaric,” I said, my voice low and calm but humming with an obvious threat even he couldn’t miss. “Get to the point.”

“Let’s think this through then, shall we?” he said quickly. “Highblood Denoir is more powerful than Blood Granbehl, but the latter’s hungry and punching above their weight. What would the Denoirs gain by allowing their precious princess to be entangled in this whole trial fiasco?”

He paused, looking at me with unfocused eyes. “What was the question?” He scratched at his messy hair. “Oh, right. Nothing, that’s what. They don’t want it getting around that the adoptive daughter of the noble Highblood Denoir snuck off into the Relictombs with some bloodless rookie. It looks bad. All they have to do is let the Granbehls eat you alive and, for them at least, the whole situation goes away.”

“But what do the—”

The carriage swerved and our driver exchanged shouted insults with someone. Alaric grinned.

“—Granbehls have to gain by putting me on trial?” I finished.

“We’re going around in circles now,” he said. “Perhaps they’ve hedged that there’s more to you than you told the three Granbehl siblings. You’re freaky powerful, enough to alter the difficulty of any level you walk into. Depending on what young Ada’s said, they may be hoping you’re secretly some disguised highblood that they can recoup losses from by forcing the issue in front of a panel of judges.”

That made sense. It would be a chance to get something back from Kalon’s death, I mused.

‘But they still have to prove it was murder, right?’ Regis pointed out. ‘Which they can’t do, because, y’know, it wasn’t.’

I echoed this thought to Alaric.

“That’s what’s got me worried,” he grumbled. “And why I’ll be doing some digging. Blood Granbehl must have something up their silk sleeves if they’re going to all this trouble.”

We sat in silence for a minute, listening to the wooden wheels of the carriage crunch over the stone streets. “So,” Alaric said, “how many zones did you make it through?”

“Three,” I said, a little bitterly. I should have just kept going.

‘And get yourself killed because you were distracted by the genocide of your girlfriend’s entire race?’ Regis asked. ‘Cooling your heels in a jail cell is probably not a bad thing for you right now.’

You were telling me to fight our way out not ten minutes ago, I thought incredulously.

‘Hey, I’m nothing if not inconsistent,’ he replied, letting out a barking laugh.