Sacrifice of Ericc
Page 7
On raised steps, the Matriarch sat upon her throne of fear and deceit. She had no official authority, yet even the prominent of Southwind cowered to her demands. Ruthless tactics to obtain her power continued to escalate into her elder years. The little humanity she had in her youth had all been devoured by greed.
Her throne sat high enough to ensure everyone in the chamber looked up to her. Bodyguards stood at attention while servants attended to her every need. Her three advisors mulled over maps and decrees on a nearby table as she dictated new orders to them.
Visitors were welcome, and yet the only ones she ever received were those who asked for her help. One would have to be desperate to do so, for the payment always outweighed the support she gave. This normally meant that they were indebted for the rest of their lives.
The only others that dared approach her were those whom she had summoned. To not drop everything and rush to do her bidding was a sure way to end one’s life.
Lucian entered her chamber, limping in pain from his fight with Santorray and holding a bandage over his missing fingers. Lowering his eyes and head in respect, he addressed her. “Greetings, Matriarch. You called for me?”
Selecting a fruit from a servant’s basket, the Matriarch waited for it to be cut and a piece eaten to ensure its safety prior to it reaching her own lips. She was in no hurry to respond to the filthy man who stood before her.
Lucian tried to stand perfectly still as he waited for her response. But the night of bingeing on alcohol still tugged and pushed at him, causing him to sway as his head pounded from his recovery. The injuries sustained from his beating didn’t help any either.
“What happened to you?” she asked in a cold tone.
“Santorray has returned, my grace.”
“You told me he was dead. You told me that you had killed him yourself.”
“Yes, you are correct. I saw him fall. I don’t understand it myself.”
“What else have you failed to understand? What else have you lied to me about?”
Lucian stepped forward and dropped to his knees. “Nothing, I swear. The Blothrud must have had help, like he did last night.”
“You lied to me.”
“No, my grace. I witnessed his death.”
“And in doing so, I have proliferated this lie of Santorray’s demise. My words are now in jeopardy of being questioned.” Taking a bite of her fruit, she pondered her options as she watched Lucian ask forgiveness at the first step to her throne. “Remove his tongue,” she ordered a bodyguard, “so he can’t tell any more lies.”
Lucian screamed for mercy to anyone who would listen.
“And castrate him, his father, and any nephews. I don’t want them breeding any more untrustworthy kin.” She had little change in her voice. “Inform my granddaughter that her wedding is off. She shall not be married to a man of dishonor.”
“I’ve captured Santorray,” Lucian shouted as her strongmen grabbed him. “He now sits in the mines near Rava’Kor. I will travel back to the mines and finish my task, returning to you with his heart in my hands. Your words will be again pure and my debt to you will be endless.”
Overpowered by her personal bodyguards, Lucian’s tongue was grabbed and pulled out to be sliced off. The edge of the shiny blade began to draw blood just as the Matriarch stopped them.
“You shall bring me his head so that I know it was him.”
Lucian nodded agreement, seeing that he still had a blade to his tongue.
“By doing so, you save your life, one that is at my disposal forever.”
“Thank you, your grace,” Lucian uttered once he was released.
“If you do not return with it, you, your father, and all your kin shall be hunted down and drained of their blood. Do I make myself clear?”
The guards pushed him back down to his knees in front of her. “Yes, Matriarch, I am at your command. Santorray’s head will be cut from his body and returned to you.”
Footsteps could be heard entering the chamber, behind Lucian. Asentar entered the hall with a strong confident stride. He was tall in stature, allowing him to look directly at the Matriarch without raising his head. “Greetings, Matriarch. I am Asentar, high knight of the kingdom. The Doven Province sends words of unity to Southwind,” he announced.
She sat up very straight, trying to keep his eye level beneath her own. “You are the only knight of the kingdom, from my understanding.”
“Perhaps, I have not seen any of the others since the destruction of the Grand Council. I don’t know of their well-being.”
“They have all fallen. You are the last of their kind.”
“All the more reason that I must speak to you about the reunification of the provinces.”
“Why speak with me? I am not the Prominent of Southwind.”
“Even the beggars on the street know that he is but a mere puppet on strings which you govern. You are in control of this region and therefore I am petitioning you to stand with us. Reunite the Dovenar Kingdom and rebuild a unified council to stand against our enemies.”
“Our enemies may not be the same. If you are referring to Darkmere, I have already settled this issue. For our support in his endeavors, he will be granting me full power over everything south of the Volney River. Your words of giving power back to the kingdom are wasted upon my ears. I have no interest in what you have to say.”
Asentar took in a deep breath, raising his chest. “What tragedy has caused the words of a Dovenar Knight to not carry the attention and the authority of the King himself?”
“Since the King relinquished his powers to the Grand Council and the council was destroyed. The kingdom is broken. Peace can now only come about by joining with our enemies.”
“I would submit that these efforts to appease them will be met with your disposal, once they have what they want.”
The Matriarch stood up and raised her voice in a demonstration of authority. “No one can dispose of me! I decide who lives and dies. I decide whom we attack and who we are at peace with. This will never change.”
“Even if you are right, you can’t live forever. They will eventually attack, for they live to destroy all that do not follow them. I have fought for peace for many years, and have learned that we must enter talks with leverage. It is not too late to regain this. We can rebuild our kingdom and still reach out to our enemies for peace. But as long as we stay fractured, our enemies will see us as vulnerable and will launch attacks upon us.”
The Matriarch smiled at Asentar as she sat back down on her lavish throne. “I fully understand the capability of leverage. As we speak, the prince of your beloved kingdom prepares to complete my next transaction.” Pausing to take another bite of fruit, she enjoyed watching Asentar’s curiosity. “A prisoner in the Rava’Kor mines was recently identified as Ericc Dovenar. The son of Ambrosius will soon be given to Darkmere in exchange for his E’rudite powers to rebuild my old crippling body. This will double my life and my ruling days. Your kingdom will soon have no heir and it will no longer exist. I am now the power to contend with.”
“I find it doubtful that the son of Ambrosius could be captured by your people.”
“You question my power?”
“I question your people’s ability to pull off such a task. To do so would be a tremendous feat.”
“We are a more formidable force than your bureaucrats give us credit for. They have never given me the respect that I deserve.”
“I will inform them of such, if you can prove to me that you have actually captured the son of the rightful king.”
“Lucian,” she ordered, as she turned to the cowering man. “Travel back to the mines by daybreak to show Asentar what we are capable of doing here in Southwind. Ensure that Ericc is properly handed over to Darkmere’s servants when they arrive, then kill Santorray for his crime of living.”
Chapter 8
Civej