Of Iron and Devils

by B. H. Young

  "The last Lord is beholding to this schedule?"

  "He is."

  "Seems as a gift from them... or another attempt to meddle," Sylo said, rolled up the map, and placed it into his coat. "Curious?"

  Geryn squinted and tried but could not find reason to his rambling. "Surely it's a gift my lord, you will be finished in no time and then can begin your path back to Northanos a rich man."

  Sylo took a deep draw from his pipe and then pushed a big cloud of the grayish-white smoke out through his flaring nostrils. "They seem to think to stand in my path that ends with them. It is why I took it. But they'll continue with their tricks."

  "Beg pardon my lord?" Geryn asked.

  Sylo turned to him, pulled the pipe from his mouth, and said, "No, not yet you don't."

  His words under that look were colder than the air could ever hope to be and Geryn shivered once more and turned to Jelkin and Marlo behind him, who were grinning and then eased his way back to Sylo.

  "Well my lord... when Lord Dorat is dispatched I shall meet you in Hardfont Rock to conclude our business," he said.

  The spymaster's lungs were bleeding, his heart was racing, and the sweat sliding over his brow was raising the saline fragrance of his paranoia. "On your way then, spymaster," Sylo said.

  After he left, Sylo continued puffing his pipe and peering at the view. No remembrance of the last time he took pause to watch the sun rise. As cold and numb as he was to the world there were still little things from his past that he searched for to try to appreciate, but couldn't. A past from long ago when he held foolish beliefs in honorable standards, before his brothers and sisters played against him as pawns for the Gods.

  The Gods disfigured him with the very thing meant to keep him safe. Forging his body with it and leaving a lasting scar. Scars that brought much scrutiny from the common folk with mobs accusing the Iron High Guard of dark magic and demanding his execution. Eyes of a devil, they hollered. Such foolish beliefs of nobility and respect the people of the kingdoms held their selves in. They were all blinded souls biding their time before the inevitable.

  The Gods did not intend for their trick to give him sight to the truth of his brothers and sisters, their order of law and the world of waste around him. The fools, with their meddling hands, opened his eyes to the true filth the world washed itself in and they could not allow any witnesses for that. But they failed at every turn and would continue to do so unless he permitted otherwise. For years, Sylo pondered what he had done to draw personal attention from them but never was he able to find an answer. It was not for meaning, but curiosity. How does a mere man piss off the Gods so bad?

  Two more mistcats screeched out as an eastern wind rolled through the valley. Sylo rolled his neck and shifted in his chair taking another long draw of his pipe. A little bit longer to quell a clouded mind absent of reason and enjoy what he could not find. They won't be long now.

  Chapter 26.

  The wind brushed up against the carriage like a stubborn mule. Maven sat contorting her fingers into a stretch; a faint glimmer struggled to rise at the tips but could not take a deep breath. It was all she could do to pass the time while traveling to Koblersrift. The minor flare would not cast, but practice makes perfect, practice was no good though if one couldn't even weave the damn spell she thought. The rocking winds drove her concentration away and she grimaced.

  Hush was the only spell she knew and that had taken her two years to learn. A common magic used by healers for when they had to go digging an infection out of an individual or remove a rotting limb. It was not as difficult to learn though as it was only half an arcane physics stage. But Flare was a daunting stage and a half and she was no closer to casting it successfully then when she first started, four years ago. Even when magic flourished in the world one would need to be a disciplined genius to cast it. Simply knowing the answer granted no cheat of the arcane. The arcane physics were complex formulas one must work out in mind, in synch with the precise movement of fingers or tongue and in tune with one's essence to the magic left in the world. Her real magic was in words, though, and she had never found it hard to convince others of a lesser will that her power was great and deadly. If only her tongue could cast spells, she'd be as powerful as the War Khaster's of the ancient world, but even the lowest of chanting spells were three and half stages.

  Maven leaned toward the window and saw the shimmering of Koblersrift blooming through the woods. The night had faded by the time she had made her way under guard to the forest after departing from Theymonhal. She would have rather made haste back to Cradenmill at such a late hour, but the duty of the Eldafienden always came first.

  The young woman belched a murmur and Maven looked to her. Her wrist tied and bound to a corner hook in the cab, a rag stretched around her mouth and her face was swathed in tears. It was Lady Jillian's celebration, but Maven had taken a gift for herself. The servant was very polite and helpful, a pretty face with round lips that she could kiss all night. She had latched onto Maven obediently, refilling her wine, fetching her plates of fruit from the tables and asking every so often if there was more that she could do. There was more the fetching girl could do, but she'd no doubt would not do so willingly. It is a tiresome effort to find good help, Maven thought.

  Skin of copper, eyes of earth and ear length hair of straw, the woman was a luscious dish to not pass up. Maven could not help herself. Besides, Lady Jillian had hundreds of servants and she would not miss one so petite and would never even know her gone. It was not hard to coerce the girl into accompanying her to the carriage. The little tramp expected extra for her services and extra she would get. Maven doused her in Hush as Dame Shiva secured her and placed her into the carriage. The poor girl hummed pleas as tears slid down her cheeks like frantic snakes.

  The carriage rolled to a stop and Maven leaned over to her and slid her finger along her wet cheeks. "Soon my dear, but first I have official matters to tend to. You will wait for me won't you," she said, grinning mockingly.

  Dame Shiva and four others dismounted and met her as she stepped from the carriage. Two other carriages were in the yard, four Mathayus guards stood by one and two royal knights by the other. It would be a dance of words with fools tonight, but it must be done. She could feel Lord Willem's dead stare fixated on her before pushing the doors open. Typarion sat miffed as well, she noticed upon entering. It was not clear which of the two was worse. Lord Willem was upfront with his arrogance and made no illusions about his opinions, but Typarion was a snake of a different kind, though. One that could change its appearance and charm ears with a foul tongue. Favored with the Overlords because he is the highest embedded member of the Eldafienden into the legitimate world, perhaps that is what makes him the most dangerous.

  "So glad you decided to finally join us, Lady Maven." Willem made sure his disapproving glare and tone were apparent.

  Maven ignored both made her way to the table and took her seat. "I do apologize gentlemen but I was having such a lovely time. For all her faults Lady Jillian sure can throw a grand event."

  "It has been a trying night for us all I would like to begin immediately," Willem said.

  "Are we not missing others?" she said and glanced around the room with a mocking turn of her head.

  "Neither Overlord Withlem nor any of the other council members will be attending this meeting until the task is done, for obvious reasons."

  "Ah, well then," she said. He was paranoid as usual, but she couldn't fault him. It would be a song in the wind for them to be subjected to a raid just when they think the upper hand is theirs.

  "It seems we are fortunate in that the task will be completed sooner than we expected since our slayers will not have to travel as far as Padenmor, Lord Dorat is in Fleslinburg, Geryn will relay this information to the slayers when he meets with them in Durbin."

  "The sooner the better," Maven said.

  "However, there has been an unexpected turn of events. While the Gods grant us favor in one in
stance, they give an obstacle in another." Willem took a gulp of wine from his silver-jeweled goblet. "In a showing that there is no true insignificance left in the world, one of the castle guards dispatched at Helbrode has brought Dardanos Eastmunn to our kingdom, who seeks retribution for the slain man." Willem's voice flooded with agitation and Maven grinned. "You find this amusing do you?"

  She could not help but to see the humor in it. Lord Willem could not muck this up anymore if he tried. "It's all too much really. The Overlords will surely be second-guessing who they put in charge from now on."

  "I do not control the bloodlines of others. Besides whom do you think they would put in charge? A cheap conjurer of child's magic? Someone who is convinced they are a sorceress of grand power in favor with ancient mythical monster's of destruction?" Willem said.

  She had a right mind to Hush him as he sat smirking across the table. He was never one to waste time and was always too swift in his actions. Too stupid to realize such traits were what allowed the mishaps that plagued him.

  "You mock me and the history of the Eldafienden, you dare," she said, the callousness in her voice was clear. Willem never respected the heritage of the Order, none of them did.

  "I make no mockery of our history, Lady Maven. I'm simply pointing out that we have long evolved past the days of worshiping the mythical beings of stories. Yet you are the only one in this order who still holds to ways that have not been practiced in thousands of years by the Eldafienden." Willem leaned forward in his chair. "I suppose that is why you have drawn favor from the Overlords and certain council members? Maybe they feel the need to keep someone around who is so entrenched in the old ways that it makes themselves feel better for abandoning ancient rhetoric. Now if you are done finding humor in something that affects us all I would like to get to business if you please."

  Maven waved her hand for him to proceed, she knew deep down he was right but she would never admit it. The pompous ass, she thought, murdering and then bribing his way to gain title in the ranks. For generations the Mathayus had served as nothing more than absent-minded muscle for the Eldafienden. They were beneath her and yet Lord Willem had attained the rank of Harbinger through charming of the Overlords with his entrepreneurial ways. Titles were of little meaning when one is a herald for the Gods, though.

  "Typarion, what of the Iron?" Willem asked.

  "My Sentinel, Lisbet, has informed me that the investigating Irons had a recruit confirm our changes to the Crown List. She has dealt with the recruit and is keeping the Irons reports on the matter far from the other Overseers. They may have figured out what is going on from their source in Vette but there is no one to relay their information to thanks to her."

  Maven rolled her eyes. "So it was a smart plan to let her assign Irons not under our control to investigate rather than the prospects she has pulled under you? And now they are certain to our task. Tell me Typarion, what other good news do you have to share with us today?"

  "Let us not forget that had your foolish nephew not tried to extort the slayers upon their arrival none of this would be a problem to begin with. Those she has brought into the fold could not be spared to work the investigation. Maybe you should thank the Gods that I have my hands in such high ranks of the Iron High Guard for who without, none of this would have been possible."

  "Well, as long as you keep fucking her properly I'm sure she'll continue to be a great asset and very obedient! Heed warning though Typarion, nothing worse than a woman scorned... especial an Iron bitch."

  "Enough!" Willem roared. "The Iron will present no problems Lady Maven, it is under control now let us continue."

  "As you will Harbinger," she said and smirked.

  "Are preparations in place within the Iron High Guard Typarion?"

  "Yes, I am just awaiting your order."

  "Very good you may proceed with them. When can we expect our members to be appointed from the list to their positions as province stewards?"

  "I'm afraid I can't say. I'd have thought Lord Sinthal would've been replaced immediately but the war has taken up much of King Norindale's attention at the moment. I'd say it's a fair wager that he'll not act quickly on the others that follow. Though I've sent him message imploring him it is necessary to appoint them quickly in these troubling times, he has, so far remained silent to my request," Typarion said.

  "The war granted us an early outing but now denies us a swift completion. Very well I will inform Overlord Withlem and the council," Willem said and darted his eyes to Maven. "Lady Maven?"

  She pressed her lips together bearing a slight grimace and threw her hand out weighing the air. "Once our members are elevated they can begin pulling their province guardsmen back assuming the war is over. We can then call for the royal conclave with the King's council, informing them we are voting Norindale off the throne and electing a new king. The man-child king will no doubt refuse to abide by royal decree, but with the other provinces combined with my forces it'll be a simple matter to quell such tantrums," she said. "I'm sure there will be some small patches of guardsmen who rebel to removing the king, but not enough to complicate the matter. What of Lord Surranos, he is not part of the Eldafienden?"

  Lord Surranos was a bastard of a man whom she despised and had suggested, be taken out along with the others when this task was first planned years ago. Much to her dismay, the other council members and the Overlords voted against her, citing it would take too long to get another member on the list.

  She could not even convince Overlord Withlem who favored her the most, to side with her. On average he was putty in her hands, convinced with ample flirting, which she used many times to get her way, but he would not be persuaded on this matter. Maven did not fancy the company of men, but they were slaves to their desires and she used such measures of teasing with false hope against him to get what she wanted. It was all she could stomach to enact such modest actions on one man.

  "We have been over this, Lady Maven," Willem said. "Lord Surranos sides with the highest bidder, he always has. He is a brutal man who runs his province like a pirate. He does not need to be of the Order. He may not lend his forces or vote without ample payment, but neither will he intervene on the behalf of the king. Either way, majority rules and his participation is not needed."

  "You cannot trust a man whose only holding is to coin," she said.

  Willem ignored her bait and said, "Now onto Dardanos Eastmunn."

  She noticed the concern in his voice at the mere mentioning of the man's name. He tried to hide his fear but not well enough. Sipping his wine and tapping his fingers, such a fool, and not becoming of a Harbinger, she thought.

  "Just kill him and be done with it. Unless you are going to allow him to investigate as well to not arouse any suspicion," she said and narrowed her eyes.

  "I do apologize Lady Maven, that I do not possess the ability to act blindly with total disregard to the affects it may have on myself or the Eldafienden. Unfortunately, I was born smarter than that."

  "And your intelligence has proven to be a great asset thus far," she said. His glare fumed and she knew he wanted to respond so she stretched him a grin.

  "You suspect he will be a problem?" Typarion asked.

  "Much in the same manner that the Black Frost plague was a problem yes very much so."

  "He is one man, by the Gods, do you fear him so," she said.

  "Perhaps you should brush up on history that doesn't focus on the lunacy dealings of magic and monsters." Willem slammed his goblet to the table. "Do you know why he and his brothers are known as the Wolves of Winter?" he asked peering low at her.

  She was not stupid and knew full well the Lassono's were not to be taken lightly, but they were on the verge of seizing an entire kingdom. Even the Lassono's cannot fight against such power. "Please do enlighten me, Lord Willem."

  "Many years back House Daffin thought it would be wise to try to strong-arm the Lassono's out of profitable ventures they controlled in the Eastern parts of the Dyerwin
kingdom. Thinking the Lassono's nothing more than a vagrant syndicate of thugs, House Daffin proceeded to spread the reach of their arm with total disregard. They thought because their army numbered in the thousands and the Lassono's only in the hundreds that any retaliation from them would be short lived.

  "It was a foolish and fatal belief. The Lassono's sent Dardanos along with his older brothers to descend on Telvorin Moors with a mere thirty soldiers under their command. In one night, they dispatched the entire lot of Daffin men, women, and children as they slept. All of them! They spent the following weeks hunting down the few scattered members that remained and in a month's time, the Lassono's had erased the entire lineage of the Daffin name from existence. House Daffin's mistake was in thinking the Lassono's would meet them on the battlefield as adversaries do in war. The Lassono's do not fight wars like that. They use irregular methods, linger in shadows, and attack from every direction. We cannot risk that at this time," he said. "So excuse me if I deal with it in a manner that doesn't end with all of our head's laying at our feet."

  "Then by all means, continue." She waved her hand. The story of the Wolves of Winter was well known. It was just pleasing to watch Lord Willem shake and squirm. He feared them and she could smell it.

  "So what do you intend we do?" Typarion asked.

  "The Iron of Dyerwin are as corrupt as they come, but in Terongard the Lassono's are without shelter. It would not raise question if Dardanos were to be dispatched by the Iron High Guard here. See to it that your Sentinel deal's with it personally," Willem said and Typarion gave a nod.

  Maven rolled her shoulders and gave whispering groan. "Are we finished?"

  "We are," Willem said.

  "Good, I will handle the slayers once their task is complete for some small satisfaction for Jonekah," she said and pushed from her chair.