Emma’s time in Vichin was not, unfortunately, reserved only for having fun with her cool new powers. It turned out her incredibly powerful political position actually had work attached to it, for some reason, and the doing of this work dragged her away from furthering her experiments. Right when she was in the middle of making a breast-enhancement potion, too.
Fortunately, she wasn’t required to actually do anything yet. The summons she received was about a social affair. Ragni was holding some kind of party, feast…whatever. It was an event with a large number of burly viking men drinking themselves stupid and yelling at each other, and High Priest Hagor was invited.
So were his men. Which meant it would be twice as many big, burly viking men getting pissed up and yelling profanities. Except they’d be segregated into two separate camps, both angry with each other, and all remembering the rather recent slaughter they committed against the other side.
And Emma would be one of the most important figures on one face of the conflict, thus making her one of the world’s biggest targets.
Suddenly, she was extremely glad to have finished her shield charm. This one was improved, too. With Larry’s tutelage, and the advancement of her skill in Talismans, Emma had figured out how to give it an off-switch. With luck that would let her new defences come as a big surprise for everyone, and allow her to have them ready by wearing her amulet the entire time without breaching etiquette.
Without luck, or with bad luck, it meant that she’d get ambushed and killed before turning it on. Emma decided to think positive, if only to keep from pissing herself.
The hall was a surprisingly big one. Emma realised only then how accustomed she was getting to the smaller-scaled buildings of this world, because it really shouldn’t have shaken her that much. The gym hall in her old highschool had been at least two or three times its size, maybe as much as five. Certainly, the number of people crowded in it was tiny by comparison.
But they all made up for their limited numbers with sheer weight of enthusiasm. Laughing, swearing, beating chests—literally beating chests, like apes—and of course sloshing beer everywhere as they swung around big mugs and guzzled their contents.
Boys, the same in every world.
They actually were really similar to what she’d seen before. Shouting different words, dressed differently, but all the body language, the gesticulations…Starkly similar. They were like a giant pack of frat boys.
Armed frat boys, with quite a few honest-to-god murder-stares mixed in with all the tipsy posturing and baseless brags. On second thought, maybe they weren’t so similar but…Still, Emma found herself slightly comforted by the sight. It made things more familiar, somehow. More known.
Not that frat bros had ever been particularly welcoming to her of course, but they were at least a known factor of asshole with which she could draw on her life’s experience to deal with.
Emma turned her eyes back across the room, and was not-so-pleasantly surprised to find Earl Ragni already getting himself tangled up in a conversation with High Priest Hagor. She slithered up to them as it progressed, making a subtle an effort of closing in to hear quietly as she could manage. Emma had actually never been the most sneaky person in life. For some reason everyone was surprised when she told them that, but it was true. She just didn’t like it. Always made her on edge with the fear of being caught.
But having a few dozen axes swung at her face had disabused her of that particular hang-up. Compared to hear countless near-death struggles being caught in an awkward social position didn’t really register at all, so she closed in and listened. And after a moment she realised about twenty other people were doing just the same thing.
Seemed everyone was curious about what their boss was saying.
“Couldn’t help but miss you in your little assassination attempt, Hagor.” Ragni began, speaking with the kind of intense arrogance Emma knew to expect only from those who were very large and used to getting what they wanted as a direct result. “Perhaps it might have gone differently if you had been.”
“Perhaps.” Hagor noted. “But I doubt it, unlike you, Ragni, I would not struggle with a little girl.”
Laughter followed that, and eyes flicked to Emma. Asshole. But Hagor wasn’t done yet, not by half.
“Tell me, how is your son doing? The good Jarl, I mean, I’ve heard his military victory over that tiny town was great.”
Ragni went quiet, and the jeering from Hagor’s side got louder. Emma decided that was her moment to step in.
Calmly, deftly. She opened her mouth to speak with command and presence, but no great animosity. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Listen, asshole.” Oops. She continued anyway, not even knowing what would come out of her mouth until it already had. “Firstly, you couldn’t kill me with a tactical nuke on your best day. Mostly this is because of my really powerful magic, but a big factor is that you don’t even know what a tactical nuke is, do you? Secondly, you really don’t want to be making fun of other people’s subordinates when your dumbass Priest is the entire reason I’m still alive and kicking on your rival’s side. Thirdly, your beard is fucking stupid. Shave it.”
The jeering wasn’t quite so loud, now. Emma swept an eye around and, to her surprise, found men looking away to avoid it. It took her a moment to realise why.
I’m scary.
Most of these people would have heard of her through stories, and the tales of her blowing up entire squads and flachetting people’s limbs off probably spread a lot faster than the ones of her fists bouncing off someone’s jaw. She wasn’t just a tiny woman. She was a tiny woman with powers. Impressive, flashy, man-killing powers. She had to resist the un-wizardly urge to giggle.
High Priest Hagor seemed to be on the opposite side of the giggling spectrum to Emma. His face had reddenned, somewhat, eyes popping almost out of their sockets. Though his expression didn’t change to any great degree, Emma could practically feel the rage radiating off of him.
“Ah,” Hagor growled, “The witch. I’ve heard tales of you.”
“Tales where you didn’t manage to sacrifice me, because you’re an idiot?” God, Emma just couldn’t help herself. And she almost didn’t want to. What was this dipshit even going to do, glower at her? She had her Talisman, and she had her new tricks. She almost wished he started something so she could see how well his rune bullshit held up against a fucking fusilade.
“Tales where you curled up into a ball, meekly awaiting your end once captured by Ragni’s imbecile of a son.”
That one actually stung. Stung a lot, and by the reaction of both Hagor and his men, Emma wasn’t the only one who knew it. Which of course made it more paramount that she shoot back.
“Oh, so you bought that.” She replied, grinning with as sincere an expression as she could manage. “And here I was wondering if my instant escape the moment things went downhill had let you figure it all out.”
Emma didn’t need to have conducted herself well, or been in control the entire time. She just needed to make him look and feel stupid now, and by the face he was pulling she wasn’t doing so badly in that department.
Magical old man, meet highschool bitch. No contest.
He stared at Emma, High Priest Hagor. Stared at her like a slab of meat. Not sexually though. Not at all sexually, it was more clinical than that. More…deliberative. He was assessing her value, her worth. Her power. He was, Emma realised, trying to gauge what sort of reward he’d get for sacrificing her.
The bastard still planned on getting her chained down on his slab. Well she’d fucking see about that. They’d both fucking see about that, and soon.
“I will take my leave now.” Hagor said at last, voice sounding satisfyingly strangled by his own temper.
“Tail between your legs, or is it too small to tuck away there?” Emma just couldn’t help herself, she was on a roll and so she fucking said it. Hagor’s eyes flashed like neon lights for a moment, reminding her, briefly, that he did, apparently, have more power than even her, and no small amount of contempt with which to direct it.
Fortunately, Hagor did not attack her. Didn’t incinerate her, didn’t punch her. But if looks could kill, Emma would’ve been cold and stiff before he’d even finished turning away from her and slunking off.
Earl Ragni was the next to surprise her, once the High Priest was gone. He turned to Emma, and didn’t have any of the relief or gratitude she’d have expected.
“You do not speak for me.” He snarled, glaring at her like she’d done something wrong.
“What?” Emma asked, articulately. Whatever roll she’d been on with the High Priest, it seemed to have struck a wall. Now she was more confused than glib. If that molified Ragni, he didn’t show it.
“You. Do. Not. Speak. For. Me.” Ragni repeated, glaring at Emma more, not less, as she frowned at the demand. “You are my Wise Woman, you council me, advice me. You do not inject yourself into a conversation and start talking over me, no matter who you are speaking too.”
The crowd, it seemed, had dispersed from around them. Emma realised that was probably the only reason she was getting this lecture. Even now, Ragni didn’t look that angry. With witnesses on all sides, just out of earshot, he seemed pleased, jovial. But up close, she saw the anger in his features. And she sure as shit heard it in his voice.
“I just saved you from being humiliated.” Emma replied, quietly, testily. This was her new boss. Or at least her new “guy who gave her free food, housing and firewood” in any case. If she could avoid pissing him off more than was absolutely necessary, she would. What was in question, of course, was how necessary he planned on making it.
“You just humiliated me all the more by stepping in like my mother and speaking as if your word was worth more than my own!” He hissed. You could not have made me a greater laughing stock if you had tried!
Emma glanced around the room, and couldn’t help but notice a distinct lack of laughing. Even on Hagor’s side. She had a feeling this was an example of that famous “male ego” she’d hoped so desperately to avoid by opting to chase skirts instead of pants. Funny how life had a way of fucking her over, regardless of what she did.
“I didn’t humiliate you.” Emma said, evenly. “The only person here who seems to find what just happened embarrassing is you.”
It was, apparently, not the right thing to say. If Ragni’s anger had been a fire, Emma’s words were a bucket of gasoline. They set him off almost instantly, and she was actually impressed at him not punching her then and there.
“Just admit it.” He snapped. “You were trying to rise above your place, to assert yourself by stepping over me. You were moving out of bounds and now you don’t even have the decency to admit it!”
“There’s nothing for me to admit you stupid, paranoid fuck!” Emma shot back.
A pause followed that, long, heavy. It dropped between them like a lead weight sinking in water. She stared at Ragni, he stared at her. Neither said anything, they just stared. Perhaps waiting to find out that she hadn’t actually said it. But they didn’t. She had.
And then, at last, Earl Ragni responded. He was not in the least bit happy.