"Yes, please, Your Majesty." Kastil does not, actually, think Altarrin has defected. He doesn't, really, find any of his hypotheses all that plausible, except as very general categories. He just thinks this is really strange and uncharacteristic behavior for Altarrin under practically any circumstances - the thing where basically no member of the administration except him has been informed there's supposedly another world that thinks it can beat us in a fight - and wants to ask him why without a headband on his head. Altarrin seems to believe, or want to be believed when he is saying, that he is doing rogue diplomacy with at least one, possibly two, extradimensional threats, and he has brought none of the Imperial apparatus of state in on this except one letter to the Emperor asking permission to continue his unilateral negotiations. What is he doing?

Then Bastran will (very unhappily) write up an Imperial order and stamp it with his seal. It's addressed to the research team lead directly, not Altarrin, because he isn't stupid. 

He also writes it very carefully, because Altarrin is perceptive, and if the researchers are aware of how concerned Bastran is, or that Kastil is involved, then Altarrin will notice, and - it's almost certainly fine if he does, he's almost certainly not literally disloyal and also able to get around his compulsions, but - there is otherworldly magic involved, including an artifact that Iomedae sent specifically for these negotiations, and he is less sure than he would usually be. (It's also at least slightly protective in the scenario where the Thoughtsenser has been suborned as well, if everyone on site thinks the Emperor just wants a briefing face to face.) 

He would like Altarrin to return promptly to Jacona by Gate, with all of his notes, so that he can brief the Emperor and the Emperor's other advisors face to face. Altarrin will need to remove the headband for this; the Emperor wants to continue keeping it in the northern quarantine area for now.

He also sends a brief note for Altarrin. Not an Imperial order, just a few comments on Altarrin's latest proposal, trying to match the tone he would use if he wasn't incredibly concerned. 

And he sends it. It's been a couple of candlemarks, now, since Altarrin's proposal reached him. 

He paces, and worries. 

They're delaying, waiting to learn the prospects that Velgarth will send them diamonds, though the excuse they've put out among the soldiers is that Iomedae is trying to arrange for the miraculous liberation of the city. Which is also true.

She corners Alfirin to discuss it in Alfirin's shielded demiplane, the day that the books and note vanish. "I want to use the remaining Wish-grade diamond and ask Sarenrae for a miracle in Urgir. A lasting Sleep, across the whole city, hitting everyone who's weak enough, and I think I can manage a disciplined conquest if the civilians are mostly unconscious. Then we wake them and force them out onto the plains at swordpoint, sector by sector, which will be miserable but not murder. If we do get more diamonds from Velgarth we ask Erastil for a Miracle too, a second harvest out across the whole hold, and no one starves. If we don't - I don't know, I want to at least get a quote from Tilbun on how much he'd pay for access to Velgarth, Teleport in unreasonable numbers of cattle.

Should I tell you what my internal Alfirin has to say to me, or should I let the real Alfirin speak first?"

"Tell me. I assume she had objections and you found them unconvincing."

"It's our only diamond and we might desperately need it, we might find ourselves in a position where the crusade turns or falls on it, and the crusade isn't going to turn or fall on how many orcs die when we take Urgir. You might be right. I consider it reasonably likely we'll be able to source more diamonds, but I can't be sure.

But - I'm not sure that the crusade doesn't turn or fall on whether we murder tens of thousands of civilians in incredibly horrendous street fighting and associated chaos. It seems like a very high stakes sort of thing. I worry about how the men will take it. I worry, like I know you do, about their Evil.

To which my internal Alfirin replies, "I'll cloudkill them" or "let's use lots of Velgarth suicide-Fireballs" or "what I did find scouting the darklands was a good way to poison their water supply" or - something else like that - and -

- firstly, I don't account myself the slightest bit less responsible when you do all the Evil things, even if you do them without orders, and if Pharasma counts me less responsible She's a blithering idiot. It was my call to take Urgir. Every death in that city is on my hands, and it's not in your power to take that off me.

- and secondly, those things do, in fact, damage intangible strategic resources on which the crusade relies. I'll have an easier time whipping up diamonds on my next tour of Oppara with the story of how we miraculously took the city without bloodshed - yes, I know there will still be horrifying bloodshed - I'll have an easier time explaining myself, to the representatives of the other churches we rely on for support, I'll have an easier time recruiting people who want to fight in the kind of war we're fighting. -

and thirdly, I just think it matters, a lot, if we're doing as best as we possibly can, or worse than that. The best we possibly can is still going to be an atrocity but it doesn't have to be the worst possible atrocity."

"Well, I can't say you don't know me. You're right that I think we can't spare the diamond - but - I'll get back to that, actually. You're right about the sack and how it's bad for the men to be the sort of men who will sack a city - or to know themselves to be that sort of men. You're wrong about the cloudkill but - "

"You're not wrong that it's the sort of thing I'd suggest. I just can't, actually, slaughter a city myself. If I could -

It's better for me to do it. I know the Crusade needs its reputation. I know I'm damaging it a bit every time I do something blatantly Evil. I don't - enjoy it? I know you don't think I do, but - I want to emphasize that I don't like it, I don't want to do it, when I do - act without orders, or prepare a bunch of poison spells planning to use them on civilians or - I do it because the alternative is worse. If I hadn't burned the witchgate we'd have lost a lot more men to ambushes going through it, or trying to hold on the far side while we cut a wider path through, and we would have done it all again next year. If I'd come to you with the idea then - instead of the unpredictable wizard with no scruples who is already factored in to the crusade's reputation, to the troops' morale, you get that Iomedae decided to burn her men alive to save time crossing the woods. This way - you get to be angry, in public, and everyone can see that you didn't approve and when they imagine its their friends' ashes in the day's stew they will hate me for it instead of you."

"And - you're going to hate this part but it's important and it's true. Back in Oppara, they won't see victims when we kill every orc in the city. Most of them will just see orcs. They'll think of Urgir as a fortress, and not as a city. They won't imagine that there are civilians here, or children. Just a bunch of orcish warriors, hardly less monstrous than the undead. And the ones who do see the victims are the ones paying enough attention to know that there aren't, really, that many fewer if the city is sacked instead of incinerated.

And if it's sacked - you will have people there. Taking part in the sack. Everyone that doesn't see victims is - becoming eviler, less caring, less lawful - more likely to abandon the crusade, more likely to cause problems later - And everyone that does is writing letters home about it and then Oppara will start seeing victims too. When everyone's going to stand and fight you can't really change the number of victims, just the number that people see and whose hands get bloody."

"As for miraculous sleep - I think it's a good idea. I don't think it will work as well as you're hoping - there will be people who aren't affected, they'll start waking those around them - We will not get very long, and it won't help with the walls at all and -"

"In most accounts when a city gets taken by storm, there's a sack - it doesn't matter if the civilian population is armed and resisting or asleep in their beds. I know you think very highly of your crusaders, but I don't think they are so uniformly virtuous that they would not sack Urgir after a hard assault over the walls. If you want to avoid a sack - We should plan for a miracle that will defeat the army quickly and dramatically enough that maybe we can induce the civilians to run, and give them somewhere to run to where they won't find their courage again."

"And - the diamonds. While we only have the one - I could imagine there are ways I'd recommend spending it in this battle, but I can't think of any right now. It would have to be something subtle. Tar-Baphon is counting our diamonds too and if he suspects we're out he'll start trying more things that will be hard for us to counter without a wish or miracle on hand. If we can get a dozen from Velgarth I think that's actually a reason that we should spend one - just one - very dramatically in this battle. Maybe he'll slip up and commit something major enough that us spending a wish to overcome it is clearly a boon for our side. But while we're down to just one - he wants us to spend it on this. I know he does. And as far as I'm concerned that means we can't."

"There are people in Oppara who won't care. Probably a lot of them. And there are people in Oppara who will only care if it's shoved in their face, but - that seems like a reason to shove it in their face, to me. If we take the city and some of our soldiers go 'those were innocent people, they may have been orcs, but that was still wrong', and they go home to Oppara and say so, and everyone wants to ask me why we did it before they fund some more crusade -

- it makes my life harder, sure, but that's a better world. If I lived in that world I sure wouldn't choose to instead live in this one. 

And - they will be telling the story of this crusade for thousands of years, when - if I ever succeed at anything I'm doing with my life - people will be better. I don't want a church twisted around rationalizing some evil we did because it'd have been terrible for our public image not to, and I don't want a church lying about it, and I don't want -

- I want to do whatever is actually the best we can do. And you're right that that might not actually be the thing that plays best at home. 

I think you're wrong, that it's better for you to do all the Evil things so I don't have to, so no one has to come to grips with the fact that I would. It feels like... a crusade that's an illusion layered over a rotting corpse. I - 

- other things equal, and I know they're not, if there are people who wouldn't follow me, knowing I'd have ordered the forest burned, it's more good if they don't follow me, because they have the right to follow someone who will make the tradeoffs with their lives that they believe in. 

- other things equal, and I know they're not, it's better for people who'd turn from this crusade if they understood what we intend to do in Urgir to turn from it. They have the right to decide that's not something they're prepared to be a part of. To whatever extent we can - have their support anyway by taking advantage of the fact they'll automatically lie to themselves about what we're doing unless it's put right in front of their face - to whatever extent we're actively choosing to do more Evil in order to enable us to take more advantage of that by making it easier for them to lie to themselves - that's wronging them. It's wronging them in a way I consider myself to have promised not to do, when I became their commander. 

And you're going to say, 'great, Iomedae, how many of them are you willing to send to Hell for that principle' and - 

- I think a hundred? I think not a thousand. But I promise I have thought about it."

"I do take your point that I need to find more diamonds if I want to spend them. I think my next step is to get a bid from Tilbun. He may just - Velgarth should be worth hundreds of diamonds to him, right, fifty-fifty you can get an Even Greater Teleport, he should be willing to spot me five if he has them."

"I know. That you've thought about it and you think I'm wrong and that does matter, to me. If it didn't I - wouldn't have said all that I did, just now, I wouldn't have told you that that's why I didn't wait for orders at the Witchgate - because I can't do that any more now, it doesn't work if you know why. And I did think about that, about how I was using you, and your principles, to lie to the rest of the crusade. I'm sorry. I think I had to. I would do it again but I won't, anymore."

"And I know that it's bigger than the momentary reputational effects. Three months ago, when we came past here in the first place - If we'd stormed Urgir then I wouldn't be advocating the same things. But the last four months have been a catastrophe and I think if we want to hold this together we need a victory, and it needs to be a victory that does not leave the average soldier feeling like they, personally, are a monster. And doesn't spend any resources that we cannot, in fact, afford to spend."

"So get the diamonds from Tilbun, and we can try to find a way to take the city with two miracles because you're right, that it's worth two, if we have six. And then hopefully we can settle in for the winter without hands any bloodier than they are now. And then - I might leave again. I don't know. We'll see how bad it is. I'll still teleport Tilbun, if that's the deal you make, once I've figured it out, and I'll probably be back by the spring, and if things go well I might stay but - you should start planning for a few months without me, in case."

"Okay. Thank you. Tilbun'll want your best guess on the odds of a Teleport by spring, not mine, for pricing."

Altarrin’s first action after finishing and sending his proposal to the Emperor is to return to the Work Room and raise another Gate, to the location where the previous letter was collected. He doesn’t know if they’ve already come to retrieve the sword - it’s been a couple of candlemarks, and he’s trying to conserve his strength and doesn’t scry it again first - but he’s nearly certain they’ll be observing the location. 

It’s a brief note, just acknowledging receipt of both letters, thanking Iomedae for the warning about Tar-Baphon, and telling her to expect a longer reply within 24 to 48 candlemarks. 

The Gate-technique is in fact getting a little easier with practice, but after two in a row he is, in fact, quite physically exhausted, belt or no; he doesn’t have a headache, and he’s already noticing that his reserves recover much faster with the belt, but he doesn’t especially feel like walking let alone doing more magic work. He forces down another meal - he has no appetite but that’s normal after throwing around a lot of magic, his body hasn’t realized yet how much energy he just burned and needs to replace - and then retires to his bedroom, taking the stack of books with him. He keeps the headband on for now. It’s a lot of reading material, that he can get through much faster, and make more and better updates from, if he’s still enhanced. 

(…Also, while he currently feels mostly in control - the various unfinished and painful lines of thought can wait until he’s heard from Bastran - he is not entirely sure what his mind will do when he takes it off.)

By a couple of candlemarks later, he's about halfway through ‘The History and Future of Humanity’ which is apparently Aroden’s main holy book. He is not trying to transcribe this one word-for-word, but he has a sheaf of loose notepaper pinned to a board as a writing-surface and is taking detailed notes. 

It makes for surreal reading. Altarrin is mostly not thinking about why; to the extent he’s speculating at all, it’s on how this fits into his current understanding of Iomedae, what it lets him predict about how she’s likely to react to various possible responses from the Empire. He can think about that mostly without pain, if he keeps it tightly compartmentalized. Everything else….can wait. 

The research staff will find him there, reading diligently, still looking tired, but calm and collected and not in any way visibly impaired. 

He’s being recalled to Jacona. They have the letter here, need the artifacts back, and will arrange a Gate for him.

Oh. 

He…wasn’t expecting that, which is stupid because it’s the obvious next move for Bastran. It would be absurd for Bastran to make a call on Altarrin’s proposal without discussing it face to face, and with the rest of the ministers. In some sense, ‘Bastran wants to discuss it in person’ ought to be better news than ‘Bastran rejects it on its face.’ 

His expression stays level, perhaps with a slight smile of satisfaction, as he nods his acknowledgement, looking unsurprised and unruffled. “Of course,” he’s saying, “- if I may, I would like to finish some notes on this treatise with the headband, while you arrange the Gate? It should take me less than five minutes.” 

(He doesn’t know if they’re reading his mind. His legible surface thoughts are, indeed, still mostly on Aroden’s holy text. Which apparently has some math he doesn’t know in it - he’s been skipping ahead to chapters that look particularly interesting and the one on measuring outcomes of policy decisions jumped out. He isn’t yet at the stage of interpretations, of figuring out what this says about the Church of Aroden, but he’s thinking that Bastran will very much want to see his notes. 

…The rest of his reaction is mostly in nonverbal emotional reaction more than thoughts, and tucked away under the surface. He isn’t explicitly thinking that they might be reading his mind; it’s more that everything in that direction is dangerous, or is a thought he can’t finish at all. It’s - he doesn’t know, it feels impossible to know, it feels like the tunnel around him is collapsed just ahead and whatever awaits him from Jacona is…on the other side of that cave-in…he can’t see it can’t think it can’t know -)

- he’s so scared - 

Does it look like they’re going to let him have five more minutes? 

Bastran’s notice was notably not “emergency treat Altarrin as a potential threat recall him immediately”. It was written very ordinarily. They’ll let him have five minutes.

(They’re not letting his research assistant, who was also requested, have five minutes; they woke her up, compulsioned her more heavily, and have her waiting for the Gate. But he is Altarrin.)

That…narrows things down, a little, in terms of - how badly wrong to expect this to go. (And, though this thought too is under the surface and not in words, approximately confirms that they’re not reading his mind; up until now they’ve extended him the courtesy due for his rank, and scheduled the Thoughtsensing checks with him.) 

He keeps taking notes. That part doesn’t take much of his headband-enhanced attention. 

And he needs to use that five minutes to actually think, actually plan, even if it’s very very hard, because without the headband it probably won’t be possible at all. What…is going to happen, when he Gates to Jacona and sits down with the Emperor?

He doesn’t know he can’t know and if he goes there the tunnel will cave in and crush him And, nonetheless, he needs to make the right decision.

....What would Iomedae predict was going to happen, if she were somehow scrying him right now, watching him about to Gate to Jacona and talk things through with the Emperor? 

…She would be very very worried, he thinks.

About - what - ? About the gods. About - what the Empire is being steered toward. And what is the Empire being steered toward - what would it look like from her vantage point, what outcome is she worried will actually happen -

- it’s - what - 

(pain, fear, confusion) 

…The gods of Velgarth don’t want the Eastern Empire in contact with another world. 

His mental model of Iomedae feels that that alone is enough to fill in the rest of the picture. The gods don’t want this, precisely because it would be in the Empire’s interest to have it. Because it would make the Empire stronger and - less predictable - that’s the whole thing, isn’t it, from Iomedae’s vantage point, the vision of the First Emperor pulling in one direction and the gods pushing in another and the result an awful ugly broken compromise, a place of wealth and canal-Gates and no room to maneuver, no resources left unclaimed, because giving mortals room to maneuver makes them unpredictable – because an Empire granted enough space to breathe that it could dispense with the compulsions and the executions would grow in a direction that the gods can’t steer nearly as well… 

That’s it, really, that’s all that matters here.

The gods don’t want Emperor Bastran to sign off on Altarrin’s proposals, probably not even if backing off from Oris helps Them in the short run, because Foresight sees the long run too. The gods don’t want it and They clearly do have the power to steer the Empire - to steer Altarrin as Their pawn - and it doesn’t, actually, matter how They achieve it, but also knowing the end result tells Iomedae a lot about what Altarrin can expect if he returns to Jacona, carrying his hopeful proposal for how to resolve the Empire’s current challenges at a much lower price than they had expected to pay. 

His imaginary Iomedae is…shaking her head sadly, maybe admitting it’s admirable of him to try, but it was never going to work. If hopeful proposals for a better future were a thing that worked in the Empire, they would be there already. 

And Altarrin, with his own context on the Emperor’s court, can look at the what and the why and fill in some of the how. The Empire is designed for paranoia against gods, and - the gods of Velgarth can use that, as they did before to make sure Altarrin wouldn’t learn enough of Iomedae to turn back before he killed her. Kastil isn’t the only one who would look at Altarrin’s note and see it as proof that Aroden has already suborned him, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Kastil is involved, he’s - someone the Emperor leans on in times of stress and uncertainty, especially if Altarrin isn’t available. Bastran is going to be terrified, overwhelmed, looking for answers from any other direction, and Altarrin hasn’t been there and so his advice has been coming from…people who aren’t Altarrin…

He - doesn’t know how badly it will go - he mostly can’t think about that at all, actually, trying makes the screaming in his head worse and the walls of the tunnel even tighter and he can’tcant’can’t - he’s not thinking clearly but he knows that, damn it, he does not need the stupid headband self-awareness to keep pointing it out, that doesn’t help achieve his goals, it doesn't serve the Empire - 

The screaming quiets, slightly, and there's a little more space to, not finish that thought, but find a way around it. 

…Iomedae would say it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t care about the difference between ‘Altarrin has a respectful conversation with the Emperor, who eventually makes a tortured decision to ignore the Knights of Ozem’s overtures’ and ‘Altarrin is thrown in a cell for questioning.’ From her vantage point, the relevant difference - the crossroads that will let the Knights decide whether the Empire can ever be an ally - is what happens to Oris and what happens in her own war. 

If the Empire can’t be an ally then, from Iomedae’s perspective, it’s a threat. Regardless of whether the Empire commits not to invade her world, or whether she would even trust that commitment from them, but simply because the Empire is an enormous pile of resources and soldiers and mages, and vulnerable to Tar-Baphon, and her army - her entire world - absolutely cannot afford for Tar-Baphon to learn of Velgarth and take the Empire for his own use.

And…at that point it doesn’t matter, in the long run, if Iomedae herself is too principled to turn back on her promise not to invade, because she almost certainly isn’t the only legendary warrior in her world who is opposed to Tar-Baphon, and someone will decide that the risk of letting the Empire continue to exist is too high. 

From Iomedae’s perspective, he thinks, the only thing that matters, here, is that there’s nothing for Altarrin in Jacona, there’s no route to achieve the only aim of his that she has any reason to care about, it would only be - handing himself over as a pawn to a machine ultimately steered by the same gods that the Empire was built to defend against, until the centuries of relentless pressure pared it down to a grinding wheel that can no longer be changed on its course. 

…Altarrin is not Iomedae.

Altarrin does, actually, care about the outcome of Iomedae’s war, because he made a vow to fix everything and he didn’t carve out an exception for the people of other worlds – but Altarrin’s first and foremost loyalty is to the Empire. 

But it doesn’t serve the Empire to let itself be turned away from an alliance that would make it stronger, toward isolationism and pretending nothing is different and continuing down this same path either until Tar-Baphon finds a way to compulsion them to his horrifying serve or else one of Iomedae’s allies takes matters into their own hands. (It doesn’t serve Bastran, who hates the war in Oris, who pays a steep emotional cost for every death warrant he signs, who is never going to be okay while he runs an Empire that isn’t. Serving the Empire comes ahead of serving the Emperor, of course, but here they point in the same direction.) 

From Iomedae’s outside view, this is almost inevitably what will happen if Altarrin returns as his Emperor bid him. 

It’s never once served the Empire when Altarrin died, either, and the gods are awfully good at killing him. For this in particular, his imaginary Iomedae is vehemently pointing out that he’s the only one who can Gate to Iomedae’s world at all, which makes him a single point of failure on not just the alliance, but even on the Empire’s ability to trade diamonds for noninterference. And while the gods can’t permanently kill him, they plausibly can make sure he comes back too late to head off the disaster ahead, or without the power to do so, and…he might not even remember enough about Iomedae’s magic items to target a Gate, let alone remember the search-technique itself. 

And given the three ongoing wars and the sabotage, there are unusually many tools available for a godassassination right now, and imaginary Iomedae anticipates that if Altarrin places himself back in a region where the gods have influence, he should expect to be in danger. 

Altarrin…has no counter arguments to that. (This is mostly because all of his thoughts are running into walls and he can't think directly about anything in Jacona, but still.) It's a good point. It follows, logically, that he's in danger. 

That brings clarity, when nothing else did. 

(A thought he is not thinking: if he knew for sure that Bastran had sent an Imperial order with the Imperial seal, it wouldn’t matter one way or another what he thought served the Empire, or how much danger he could expect to be in; obeying direct orders is ranked above that, and it’s always been expected that he risk his life for the Empire if necessary. 

But he does not, technically, know that. He knows that the Emperor sent ‘a letter’. He didn’t ask to see it. The staff on-site aren’t treating this like an emergency and so it might just be a letter and not a signed and sealed order, and as long as he doesn’t think about it, the compulsion doesn’t come into effect. 

Some of his other compulsions, the ones meant to stop exactly this kind of compulsion-evading doublethink, are unhappy with this. The tunnel isn’t just narrow, now, it’s twisting and convoluted and nearly impossible to wriggle himself through. But with the headband, and with the clarity that comes from being terrified, he can navigate it anyway.) 

Altarrin finishes the page of notes, shuts the book, and swings his legs over the side of the bed; he’s moving a little more slowly than usual, maybe, but he’s not unsteady on his feet. He straightens the wad of notes, rolls them up neatly, offers them to one of the mage-researchers. Slips off the ring and sets it down on the bedside table. 

He takes off the headband, and - blinks a few times, but his expression doesn’t otherwise change. He sets it down as well. 

(He mostly can’t think at all, now, through the wall of crushing pressure and screaming; he certainly can’t do any planning, and he…doesn’t, in fact, have a plan. But he knows that he’s in danger, and that's - very simple, a situation he's been in a thousand times, and there's no time to think in a battle either. Controlling his face and body language doesn’t run on being able to think, and if he’s operating entirely on reflex, well, his reflexes have a lot of practice.) 

He’s still wearing the simply-cut, comfortable clothing he prefers for intensive casting, the same shirt he had on for the last two Gates, which were intensive enough to leave him sweaty. 

“Is there time to quickly wash and change?” he says politely, gesturing at the sweat-stains. He’s still wearing the belt, but it would be reasonable of them to assume he intends to take it off as part of changing clothes.

- yeah that’s pretty reasonable, he shouldn’t really be brought before the Emperor like that. “Of course.”