bookpub Chapter 96: The Prodigal Son
Chapter 96: The Prodigal Son
Chapter 96: The Prodigal Son
I met Liesl at a charity ball for the dockworkers hospital. She was beautiful, so radiant that I thought she must be there representing the fishers guild. I knew in that moment that I must marry her; a short time later I did.
For nine years I had the pleasure of being the man with the most beautiful wife in Calmharbor. She gave me my son, Michael, and brightened my dreary old house with her smile. But being married to an Assemblyman is not easy work; each day she saw how others in the chamber sniped at me, played their petty political games. It wore on her.
The woman I loved grew sickly and pale. Her smile faded, and eventually she along with it. I stand before you now to say that my wife, Liesl, Lady Baumgart, died - not of natural causes, but from the relentless strain of witnessing her family being hounded by shameless political beasts.
Shame on the members of the Assembly who have abandoned all pretense of civility and decorum. Shame on you who know no boundaries in pursuit of power. I name you all murderers; my wifes blood is on your hands.
- Karl Baumgart, eulogy for Liesl Baumgart, 680.
Business, is it? Karl asked. His voice was neutral, his tone light; Michael knew it was a manner that his father wore at will. Is that all that draws you back to speak with me? Most of a year away with not so much as a letter, and all the while I hear reports of grand battles, Mendiko intrigue, impossible souls. He smiled thinly. Everyone telling me tales of Michael Baumgart, meanwhile I have not a scrap of news about my son.
Michaels skin bristled with gooseflesh under his fathers gaze; it was not how he had expected their first conversation since the spring to begin. The last word reverberated in his ears. Son. Michael took a breath and raised his chin. Its been a busy span of months, he said. For both of us, it would seem. Ive been seeing your name come up more and more.
Karl gave an amused snort. I as well. The papers will tend to write. He leaned forward onto his desk. I hear much of you, though not all of it has your name attached - a shame. I expect that if the general public knew half of what crosses my desk about you, I would no longer be the one people think of when they hear the name Baumgart.
There was no reply that Michael could make, no snippet of conversation that applied from the hundred times he had gone through this meeting in his head prior to today. In none of those imagined meetings had Karl Baumgart seen fit to compliment him. He forced himself to keep his eyes up, focused on Karls.
Ive kept a low profile, he said. To keep myself safe. First from Spark and the Institute; later from men under the Assemblys command. I confess that Im surprised to find you this amicable.
Why? Karl asked. Because weve worked at cross purposes?
Because its unprecedented, Michael shot back. He regretted the words immediately upon speaking; his close association with Sobriquet had given him conversational habits that he would have considered suicidal mere months earlier. Dread prickled in Michaels gut. He waited for his fathers face to darken, or to go deadly calm; for the soft whisper of blades to rise up around him.
But the anger did not come. Michael felt nothing from his father but the gentle rasp of that horrid soul, slowly whispering its threats.
Instead, Karl Baumgart laughed sharply, leaning back in his chair. So you found some spine on the continent, he said. Good. I gave it my best, but every man needs something different, just like with souls.
He tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair. Unprecedented. And do you think I should treat you like the boy who was snatched from my carriage? Id be a fool not to acknowledge that youve done great things in your months away. Did you think I would spurn you for them? Chastise you? He raised an eyebrow. In the end, your involvement has benefited me to such an extent that most in the Assembly have assumed youre working at my direction.
Yes, Ive - encountered that belief, Michael said. And I presume youve done nothing to disabuse them of the notion.
Naturally. Youve developed something of a mythology in the Assembly, especially among the junior members. Not without my encouragement, of course. Karl smirked, tapping a stack of papers on the desk. Your timing couldnt be better. Were in turmoil, Michael, and we need unity to weather this storm. He raised his eyes, his gaze settling coolly on Michael. Stellar. The bearer. My reports say that you know him.
Michael nodded slowly. I do, he said. Luc.
And I presume your business concerns him. Karl leaned forward. So? Speak. Ive talked of nothing else all day. If you have more to add than is in my briefings, then I would hear it.
Michael pressed his lips together; he had come here with the intent of talking to his father about Luc, but found himself utterly unprepared to speak when the moment arrived. He felt minuscule once more, Karl looming large above him despite everything, his gaze flensing away Michaels pretensions of adulthood.
The blind fear and panic swept through him - but he had felt this a hundred times, from a thousand men. Borrowed fear was nothing new, whether it was from a mob of soldiers or the echo of a life he had left behind. Michael removed himself from it; his chin came up, his eyes focused on his father.
Luc is dangerous, he said. More so than his soul would indicate. He is - like me. Stellar is not his only soul.
Karls eyes flashed. I had heard rumors, he said. But nothing certain. Youre sure of this?
Very. Michael felt his mismatched hands acutely in that moment. Ive fought him a few time since he arrived here. Besides Stellar he has an auditor soul, an artifex stoneworker, an anatomens and many, many potentes. Likely more than that, but those are the ones that hes made known.
Interesting. And hes been accruing them recently, since Gabarain died. Karl tapped the desk. His growth is even more explosive than yours.
Michael grimaced. Luc is - not well. He was raised by Spark, on his island; after that he was taken from horror to horror. It damaged him. He has taken souls through murder and deceit. The Institute is a means to an end for him, though he has offered only ramblings to explain that end. He looked at his father. He must be stopped - no, killed. If he is allowed access to Calmharbor and the Assembly, he will use that opening to take yet more souls. Assembly souls, those of the most powerful men in Ardalt. He will pursue Sibyl and Sever, if he can. Under no circumstances can this peace of his be entertained.
Karl listened quietly, leaning back in his chair with fingers lightly pressed against his lips. When Michael finished speaking, he drummed them against his cheek thoughtfully. I see, he said. That is a very dire warning. Youre sure of this?
I wouldnt be here speaking to you otherwise, Michael said. It was my sole purpose in coming to Calmharbor.
You wound your father, Karl snorted. He straightened in his chair, offering a slight grimace at the effort. All right. If he is as dangerous as you say, and as unwell, then there can obviously be no negotiation in good faith. We must treat him as we did Spark, which is an easy precedent to apply to one claiming directorship of the Institute.
Michael blinked, his mind failing to process his fathers words for several moments. All right? he asked.
You disagree? Karl retorted. You feel I should not listen to my only son when he hauls himself across oceans and battlefields to deliver a warning of dire import to my ears?
I did not expect you to agree so readily, Michael murmured.
Michael swayed in place, stunned by the speech; he had never heard his father like this before. Karl Baumgart had always been collected, letting only anger color his implacable manner. He was not a man who pleaded, or spoke effusively. Yet this broken, desperate man with his fathers face stood before him, on the verge of tears. It was impossible, unthinkable; Michaels heart ached with memories he had long ago buried - scraps of paper littering the corner of this very office, the smell of roast chestnuts heady in the air.
Yet Spark offered no counterpoint to his fathers lacerating soul. The blades still churned, murmuring; the tears shone without the resonant emotion that Michael had grown to expect, the grimacing, flushed face sat over nothing but silence. Michael strained to listen, but he knew it as denial even as he tried.
Leire and Saleh had not given their emotions freely. Their souls were radiant, blinding, masking all underneath. Antolin had likewise been hard to fathom, cloaked behind iron-hard discipline. But the silence he felt from his father resembled neither of these. It was Amiras silence, echoing and empty beneath a human shell.
Michael knew it for what it was. He breathed deep, facing it, not daring to look away for an instant. A childs lingering hope evaporated within him, memories of happier times cracked and revealed their ugly truth under its glare. They had consoled him once, but they were - and had always been - lies.
I have never doubted your political acumen, father, Michael said quietly. Even when I was a child, I knew some form of it; that my papa always got his way. No matter the cost. It made me proud of you, proud to be son of such a powerful man.
He took a breath; Karl looked at him expectantly. Michael met his eyes, and this time there was no thought of looking away. Thats how I know you dont need me to convince the chamber. Theres no way youre unaware of the factional positions; you must realize that Carolus will support any motion to continue the war against the Institute. Tell me Im wrong.
Karl looked at him for a long moment. He let out a breath, and with it went the desperation, the anger, the passion that had colored his speech. He sat back down in his chair with slow, laborious effort. When he had finished, he looked much the same as he had earlier, save for the mild flush of exertion.
Youre right, Karl said. I dont need you; I never have. Youve never provided one whit of benefit to me, so everything Ive built is quite capable of standing without your support. He raised his chin. But I do want you here, Michael. Its where you belong.
Michael laughed, though it was a rasping, strangled noise. Do you know, I thought that for years, he said. Michael, Lord Baumgart. I dreamed of being you, of wielding that power you hold so effortlessly. His smile faded. But then of course I got a taste of that power, and do you know what I found? That there was always a price for it.
He took a step closer to the desk. And that price was so horrific in most cases that I refused to act, at least until the horror of inaction became greater still. The freedom to step where you please is the responsibility for what falls underfoot, and the more I am forced to stare at that fact, the more I realize that you simply dont care.
Karls face grew stormy; for the first time Michael felt a sliver of real emotion leak through, ire rippling through the ethereal blades. Its you who should step more carefully, Karl said, his voice dangerously cold. Your good fortune does not give you license to-
-to what? Michael asked. To point out the obvious? He stood closer still, so that he was against the edge of Karls desk. Name one person you would help without demanding recompense, as weve struck my name from that list already.
Nave, Karl snorted. Platitudes are no replacement for thought; if you bothered to think about the realities of this world for half a moment youd realize that you couldnt come up with a name either.
Serafina Miro, Michael said. Antolin Errea. Lars Webel. Gabirel Zabala. Unai. Otto. Brand. Leo. He shook his head. Innkeeps, children, strangers on the street, Elias Kellers fucking mother-
Karl swept his arm across the desk irritably. More platitudes. You wouldnt abridge anything important for a random innkeep, wouldnt- He broke off, frowning. Who is Elias Keller?
You wouldnt know him, Michael said. Hes not important.
Karl gave him an aggravated look. Then why would I pay him any mind? he demanded.
A quiet, sad smile spread over Michaels face. You wouldnt, he said.
Youre testing my patience, boy. You may play at being cryptic and superior with others, but I know what youre about. Youre no paragon. Youre a child playing with a sword, confident because youve yet to lop off any toes. Karl glared up at him. Those you just named will be the ones you disappoint when you taste reality for the first time - and it will happen, without guidance.
Michael gave him a flat look. Your guidance, I assume.
Obviously. Karl crossed his arms over his chest. And that is something that I will give freely. Its time to forget your childish fantasies and be the man you were meant to be.
You mean your heir. Michaels control slipped as he spoke the last word, his voice coloring with disgust. The dam crumbled; he looked down at his father with naked loathing. You have nothing that I want.
Karl struggled to rise again, his face reddening. You are my son-
No, Michael said, struggling to speak clearly past the electric tension in his throat. You killed your son, and the man who stands in his place wants nothing of your work. Not the Assembly position built atop tens of thousands of innocent dead. Not Ardalt, built atop millions more. Not our family name, since youve done your best to destroy all who bear it.
Michael leaned very close to his fathers face. You are an empty, cruel man, and I was a fool to think you had anything but a use for me.
Karls red face shaded to purple, his soul slipping out to draw gouges from the wood of his desk. You fucking brat, he rasped. Ill-
Youll what? Michael whispered. Youll hurt me?
The room was a silent tableau around them, the dust in the air floating in fractal lacework that radiated away from the two men. The lamps took on a stretched, golden hue. Light scintillated from every direction, flaring as the air twisted, pulsing with the beat of an unseen heart; distance bent in an unseen hand.
Michael breathed out, relaxing his shoulders; Karl Baumgart fell back into his chair. His face had paled, his brow drenched in sweat above wide, staring eyes.
A moment later, those eyes narrowed; the veil swept back over Karls face. You will regret betraying me, he said. Dont think yourself invincible.
A soft breath of air caressed Michaels cheek; Sobriquets voice spoke in his ear. Zabala and Lars are already on their way to the mansion, she said. Theyll have Ricard and Helene out before he can do anything.
Michael smiled at her voice; in the next instant he noticed Karls eyes locked onto the expression, apoplectic. He would have felt the urge to explain, before, but to this livid, pitiful man before him-
Destroy your childish fantasies, Michael murmured. And become the man you were meant to be. Thank you, father. He let the smile grow, then fade. For the advice.
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked from the room.