by C S Vass
“I will tell you this, Godwin of the Shigata. I do not wish to put this crown on my head. But if my people are pushed to the brink of destruction, then that is exactly what I will do.”
Chapter 4
Specks of dust drifted through the pale yellow air of Sylvester Shade’s castle like tiny ghosts. Unlike the other lords of Western Gaellos who styled their dwellings as fortresses first, every decision made on the basis of the practicality of defending them, the Lord of Valencia lived in a sprawling castle-estate that favored a sickly elegance. Large stained glass windows lined the hallways depicting men of old wearing high collars and fancy sideways hats. Courtyards contained more blueberry bushes than soldiers, their sticky fruit ripening and falling on the stone walkways to ferment in the sun.
Still, one would be a fool to think that Sylvester Shade was not well-defended. While his castle may have been more of a manor, Valencia itself was his true castle, the wealthy Rosewalk in which it was centered his inner keep. One with a sensitive smell would easily be able to pick up the odor of danger.
Yaura wrinkled her nose as she moved down the foppish ianthine carpet that led to Shade’s high throne. When she had asked the fat Bluecoat guarding the door if she should leave her thrygta-pommel blade behind, he smiled arrogantly at her as if the idea that Lord Shade would be endangered by her presence was ludicrous.
The first thing she noticed as she approached the Lord of Valencia was his pale blue eyes. Yaura had seen more life in the eyes of dead fish. Shade was rail-thin and likely just a few years younger than Yaura. By his side was a man in a high-collared blue shirt festooned with silver chains and draped with velvet robes, and a woman with tufts of grey hair poking out from underneath the hood which shadowed her face.
“Yaura of the Shigata,” Shade said in a drawing voice. “Welcome to Valencia. We are honored.”
“Lord Shade,” Yaura said, bowing.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
Yaura tried to keep her eyes on Shade, but found that they kept drawing themselves to the old woman by his side. Shade noticed, and smiling said, “This is Ashaela, whose counsel has proven invaluable to me.” As an afterthought he added, “And Kent Druguld, my steward.”
“Greetings to you both,” Yaura said. “Lord Shade, I won’t waste your time. Surely you know about the Tarsurian attack on Castle Unduyo?”
“A travesty,” Shade said in a voice that suggested he could not have cared less. “The sun warriors will be made to pay for their assault on our shores.”
“Surely they will,” Yaura agreed. “So then you see the necessity of gathering the Shigata back on Black Wolf as quickly as possible so that we might prepare for whatever is to come.”
“You seek an official proclamation?” Shade asked. “What power do I have to issue such a command? Surely the Sages would have more authority to summon their warriors home should any of the Shigata not be naturally inclined to head to the island on their own for some reason.”
Kent’s sneer made Yaura certain that they knew about the Sages. Without pause she said, “The Sages have been captured and likely taken to the East. The leadership of the Shigata has been effectively destroyed. Many of our brothers and sisters will be in other regions seeking coin. An official proclamation would go a long way to seeing them back to their proper place. What’s more, your command would ensure that any soldiers or civilians would do what they could to help them get back.”
Shade stared at her with those pale corpse-eyes for a long while. Yaura found herself growing apprehensive and forced herself to maintain her composure. She suddenly realized that there was a powerful magic resonating around Asheala. A powerful magic that the old woman was not trying to conceal in the least.
At last Shade spoke. “You would take the Shigata away from their true purpose—slaughtering demons—and instead have them play at soldier, which they have clearly failed to do. Is that correct?”
Yaura was not so naïve that she expected anything less. She had prepared her response. “Lord Shade, it is true that we were taken unaware by an unprovoked ambush. Setting aside for the moment that we would not be nearly so lax upon rebuilding what was destroyed, Castle Unduyo is far more than another fortress. It is a centralized location where generations of information about demons, magic, and defense—information that serves all the realm—has been consolidated and passed on. Losing that knowledge would not be a passing wound for the West to endure for a short while. It would be a catastrophe that’s effects would be felt for centuries to come.”
Shade nodded silently. “An interesting way to look at it, Yaura. Could one not say that it’s better to spread that wealth of information across the land? After all, clearly you now see the dangers of consolidating such immense knowledge in one location.”
Yaura was about to speak when Ashaela cut her off. “She seeks to weaken you, Lord” the old woman rasped.
Shade placed his hands together. “What say you, Yaura?”
The Shigata didn’t hesitate for a moment. “I say that if my order disappears from the land at this critical time, Valencia’s demon problem is going to get much, much worse.”
Ashaela spoke again. “Her threats ring hollow. The Shigata that are in Valencia do good work to stave off the evil that floods from the south. Send them home, and the people’s homes will become graves.”
Yaura narrowed her eyes, determined not to be beaten by the old hag. “If you eat the last few fruits of a dying tree, it is true that you will stave off hunger for a short while. But if you make a sacrifice and plant the seeds, you can ensure food for years to come.”
“Amusing,” Shade said, chuckling. “Though it betrays your lack of knowledge about how planting works.”
Losing her patience, Yaura said, “Then let me be more clear, my lord, as you have rightly observed that the Shigata are not fruit. If we go off to the corners of the world and die, our knowledge will be lost forever. We are bound by oath and magic not to reveal the secrets of our order to outsiders. If there is not a place where we can continue to bring in a new generation of warriors, the West will find itself without the protection that it desperately needs.”
Shade nodded. “I prefer when you speak plainly, Yaura. I truly can’t stand a mixed-metaphor. If—”
Shade was interrupted by the old woman clearing her throat. Yaura found that to be exceptionally bold given Shade’s reputation. To her surprise, the Lord of Valencia held his tongue.
“This devil will bring our ruin,” Ashaela wheezed. “She smells of salt and smoke. I have seen her in my dreams stained with blood. When we die, she will dance on our graves.”
“An interesting take,” Yaura said as she clenched her fists. “Funny that I don’t smell anything at all. But I can certainly feel the noose around all of our necks. I can feel it getting tighter each day the sun warriors remain in these lands. I can feel it getting tighter with every demon that emerges from the Blood Wood. Lord Shade, we need to prepare for the times that lie ahead. Denying my request is not the way to do that.”
Shade nodded, considering.
Is he the powerful Demon of the South I’ve heard so much about, or just a brat to be taken by the hand and led by this old woman? Yaura wondered. She tried to see under Ashaela’s hood, but her eyes were totally shrouded in darkness.
“She came to the city under false pretenses,” Ashaela suddenly rasped. Looking at Yaura, she asked, “Do you deny it?”
Shade looked at Yaura, his small mouth pulled into a tight line.
“I came into the city to ask your help, and that is what I’ve done,” Yaura said. “What else is there to say about it?”
“She takes you for a fool, Sylvester,” Ashaela said.
Yaura arched a brow. Sylvester? That might be a bridge too far.
Shade, however, seemed unconcerned with the casual way the witch addressed him.
Ashaela continued. “When she arrived in your lands, they numbered three. Now it is just the Shigata. Tell u
s, woman, where is the elf? Where is the dwarf?”
Yaura was determined to hold her ground. “I arrived here with two companions. Yes, they were an elf and a dwarf. The roads are dangerous, even for me, and I don’t recommend anyone travel them alone. Does it count as deception that their business differed from mine? What of it? Well?” Yaura shouted the last word.
“There is certainly nothing wrong with whoever you choose to travel with, so long as they are not criminals.” Shade said.
“I’m so glad to hear that, Lord Shade,” Yaura said. “As you well know, the West must be unified if we’re to avert catastrophe.”
“Do I hear sarcasm in your voice, Shigata?” Shade rumbled. “You wound me. Let me speak clearly for you. I’m aware of the terrible rumors my enemies leak like poison into the water about me. They are outrageous lies. I have nothing against the other races. I clearly have nothing against magic. My highest advisor, Asheala, is a witch.”
Unable to help herself, Yaura said, “It relieves me to hear that the rumors about the Skullgardens are nothing more than slander.”
“Again you poke me, Yaura,” Shade said. “Let me respond to these accusations then. Demons are flooding across the border of the Blood Wood in record numbers. They fester and skulk in the bowels of Valencia even as we speak. The impoverished refugees who flee here from the Jagjaw Mountains are spreading the red ghost—a disease so unpleasant many choose to take their own life upon contracting it—without concern for anything other than saving themselves and their families, who they so stubbornly see as distinctly separate from the rest of the city. On top of that, I hear that the Tarsurian forces are prowling through the West conducting guerrilla warfare on our armies and butchering peasants that are supposed to be growing food for the kingdom. So forgive me, please, if I seem suspicious of requests to weaken the defenses of this city further. Forgive me please, O Shigata, if I take unkindly to the subtle accusations that I am overseeing some kind of slaughter here.”
Shade’s already pale face had transformed into a deathly white. While he kept his tone even, something about his eyes had changed in a way that made Yaura’s stomach clench. It wasn’t that life had come into them… it was something else entirely.
Yaura had never wished so badly that Godwin was by her side. Something about the Demon of the South scared her terribly, and it was all the worse that she had no idea what it was. But she knew she had to stand her ground.
“Forgive me if my tone implied something,” she said. “I assure you, Lord Shade, I make no such accusations. I understand your plight. All I ask is that you understand mine. It is my belief that a few Shigata in your city will not make a difference to Valencia’s longterm health or prosperity. The loss of our order altogether might.” She turned quickly towards Ashaela’s shadowed face and still speaking to Shade added, “Of course, I understand that my request is only a request, and that you are the authority who rules here.”
The witch didn’t so much as move a muscle.
“Very well, Yaura. I will consider your request. In the meantime, my hospitality is open to you. Kent, prepare a chamber for our guest and see that it is well-stocked with provisions. I hope you’ll understand that feasts are inappropriate given the city’s current condition, but we are not lacking in food for now. Should you want for anything, the servants will see to it.”
“I thank you, Lord Shade. I, of course, offer you my sword while I remain in the city should there be any need of it.”
A wry smile tugged at Shade’s lips. “Fortunately, Yaura, there are no monsters in the castle at the moment. But all the same, I will be certain to take advantage of your generous offer should the need arise.”
Yaura was happily surprised to discover that Lord Shade’s promise of hospitality was not just talk. That evening she sat in a circular bedchamber at her own private table picking grapes off the bunch, drinking mead by the pint, and tearing boar meat right from the bone while juices ran down her chin with no one there to see. The private banquet was accompanied by a great roaring blaze in the marble fireplace to keep the chill away, and a servant who knocked on her door every hour to see if she required anything.
Bare feet propped up on a chair and sword leaning on the window sill behind her, Yaura let her mind wander. If Shade ultimately refused her, what would she do? Faela and Tzuri-kai were still somewhere in the city carrying the message of the Bandit King Kark to anyone who might care to hear them. That was their mission now. As far as it concerned her, Yaura was finished with Kark. She had gotten her companions to the point where they could spread his message. She wouldn’t interfere, but she owed that scoundrel no loyalty.
She supposed that she would have to make an effort to find them. Faela had demonstrated great skill with her sword, and she was a Dragon on top of it. Should she join the Shigata, the half-elf from Tallium would no doubt prove to be a great asset. There would undoubtedly be a great deal of convincing that would need to take place, but she had to try. After that it was back to Black Wolf.
Yaura finished her meal and stepping out of her room, she dismissed the servant for the night. Not quite ready for sleep, she filled her mug again and sipped. There was no point in denying herself the pleasure of drink, she realized. She knew what Sylvester Shade was, regardless of what he pretended. If he wanted her dead, there would be naught to do about it, so she might as well enjoy herself while she had the chance.
Drinking her sweet beverage, Yaura’s thoughts turned to Godwin. Would he have made it to Saebyl yet? Could he possibly be back at Black Wolf? If all went well with his journey, he might be. But when has anything ever gone well for a Forsaken? she thought. A pang of guilt absurdly washed over her at the insensitivity of the thought. Why should I be sensitive to him, especially in my mind? When has he ever been sensitive to anything other than the steel at his side or the whores he brings into his bed?
A knock at the door tore her from her thoughts. Shifting her night-furs over her body and putting her feet down, Yaura called for the person to enter. She half expected to chide the servant for returning so quickly when in walked Kent Druguld.
“I’m sorry to disturb you at this late hour, Lady Yaura,” the steward said through his slimy smile. He gestured to the other empty chair at the table. “May I join you?”
“I am here by Lord Shade’s hospitality,” Yaura said. “Far be it from me to refuse one of his servants. Alarmingly late though the hour may be.” She made no attempt to hide the disgruntlement in her voice.
“Splendid, that’s very generous of you,” Kent said without the slightest indication that he had heard her displeasure. He poured himself a cup of mead and raised his glass. “Cheers. To the noble Shigata, who I’m certain will soon be thriving in a rebuilt Unduyo.”
Yaura clinked her glass with his. “I’ll be happy to drink to that. Though I expect it’s a bit premature to take your kind toast as a sign that Lord Shade has decided to grant my request.”
“We’ll get to that, rest assured,” Kent said. He took a long gulp from his cup and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his robe. “But first I’d like to know more about your thoughts on what I sincerely hope will turn out to be a rather trivial matter.”
“Oh?”
“I speak of course about the ridiculous ambitions of the cutthroat known as Kark.”
Yaura tried to keep her face as still as stone, but judging from Kent’s expression she had almost certainly betrayed herself. There was no point in denial now.
“The witch Asheala performs her duties well. What would you like to know?”
Kent granted her another slimy smile. “Obviously you have no intention of maintaining your loyalty to the false bandit king. That was never in question. We all do what we have to in order to survive. That is understandable, and quite frankly I don’t care about what details led you to stumble into his hands. The bigger question is, what will you do if your friends take Kark’s absurd quest more seriously?”
“Traveling companions, not friends
,” Yaura said. “What of it? I separated from them upon entering the city. I have no idea what they will do.”
“But the elf girl is a Dragon, is she not?”
Yaura sighed. He would not be asking if he did not already know. “Yes.”
“Will that pose any problems for us here in Valencia?”
“Let me speak plainly, Kent. I would not be so direct with Lord Shade, but surely we could both benefit from setting aside the dance of words and being clear. If Valencia is going to have any problems with the elves or dwarves or ogres that dwell here, then it’s going to be the fault of the city. Neither me nor any of my previous associates will be to blame.”
Kent’s eyes glittered in the firelight. “Previous associates, is it?” the steward said. “You’re very quick to put distance between yourself and that group. I wonder why. Let us speak plainly as you say. You do not approve of our handling of the influx of outsiders from the Jagjaw Mountains?”
“My opinion on that matter is irrelevant.”
“How very diplomatic of you.”
“What would you have of me, Kent? I’m a Shigata, not a rebel. I have one loyalty. Right now that leads me to the singular goal of assembling all of my comrades on Black Wolf and rebuilding what has been lost. That is for the good of Valencia whether you see it to not.”
“Your devotion to the Shigata is admirable, Yaura,” Kent said. “I believe you to be a woman of sincerity. Let us put aside the ugly matter of city politics for a moment and discuss your order. I think that is where our interests meet.”
Yaura huffed impatiently. “You seem to forget that I already suggested as much directly to Lord Shade. So tell me. Will my request be granted? Will the order for the Shigata to return to Black Wolf be issued?”
Kent shut his eyes smugly. When he opened them he took another long sip of mead. “Let us not be hasty, Yaura. The destruction of Unduyo was a terrible thing, but out of such disaster might still come some good. After all, it presents a certain opportunity for one such as yourself.”