by Joe Jackson
“Duly noted, and accepted,” the demon king said almost immediately. “And with that, allow me to apologize for the poor timing of the letter’s delivery. That missive was meant to be read when you returned home from Mehr’Durillia, not several weeks later. In no way was it meant to be a taunt regarding your sibling’s injuries, which obviously had not happened at the time it was written.”
“Of course,” Kari said, but she furrowed her brow. “I still don’t understand the reason you sent the letter in the first place.”
Koursturaux waved a hand toward the table. “Let us speak of this over supper. I’m quite famished, as I imagine you must be.”
Kari nodded but waited until the king had taken her seat before she followed suit. It was so hard to read those black eyes, but Kari was pretty sure she saw a twinge of humored respect in the corner of the demon king’s mouth. Within moments of King Koursturaux taking her seat, a pair of elestram dressed in spotless, white linen cooks’ outfits filed in and set several covered dishes on the table before the demon king and her guest. Once they removed the lids, the cooks bowed to their monarch and left the room after a casual gesture from her hand.
“Smells like venison,” Kari commented.
“Ah, so you’re familiar with it,” Koursturaux approved. There was a slight change to the tone of her voice, a little more familiarity there now and less authority. Still, she spoke with very particular diction and pacing; surprisingly, Kari found the demon king was quite pleasant to listen to. “I felled this animal myself just this week. It smells as though they prepared it with a citrus and herb glaze. Help yourself, Lady Vanador. Whatever my kast’wa may have told you with respect to manners, I expect only the basic formalities while you are a guest at my table.”
Despite her words, Kari allowed the king to spear herself the choicest piece of meat first. There were glazed vegetables to go with the savory dish, most of which looked familiar to Kari even on this alien world. She made a subconscious effort to keep her elbows off the table, put a cloth napkin in her lap, and didn’t indulge in the bottle of wine until she had begun to eat. King Koursturaux appeared intent on her supper at first, but for all Kari could tell, those black eyes may have been looking at her. She tried to assume the former and avoid any fidgeting while the two ate in silence.
After finishing nearly half her meal, Koursturaux wiped her mouth with her napkin and rested her chin in hand, considering Kari. “Sometimes my subtlety can be my undoing when attempting to manipulate someone,” she said at length, surprising Kari. “I knew the cost of your bargain with Sekassus, and I was nearly certain what your reaction would be. I wrote that letter to test your resolve, Lady Vanador, not to mock or taunt you.”
“Please, call me Kari, Your Majesty,” she put in when the demon king paused.
Koursturaux nodded. “I have such a different perspective than you do, having lived so much longer and seen so many turnings of the heavens. It’s not unusual to see even a champion lose their will, their resolve, in the face of death. King Morduri didn’t expect you would form an attachment with his vulkinastra citizen, but he hasn’t studied you or your lives in detail as I have. I don’t pretend to know you intimately, Kari, but I understand the heart and mind you possess, the way you think in certain circumstances, and the reason you are as devoted and devout as you are. There were many possible outcomes of your gambit with Sekassus, but I foresaw what came to pass, and was not surprised.”
“You thought I was going to give up?”
“No. As I said, I think I know your spirit fairly well. But the question was whether you would go with your heart or listen to so-called well-meaning people around you. You and I do not have the luxury of waiting on others to attain our goals. So, I thought to prod you, to ask if you had the will to soldier on, if you please. You are Salvation’s Dawn; you know it, I know it, and a great many others know it. I mean to use you to see to an end, Kari, and if you were too weak-willed to survive what is to come, I needed to know that beforehand.”
“And what end is that, Your Majesty?” she asked, doing her best to remain civil. It wasn’t every day that someone told her to her face that she was being used. In truth, she hadn’t expected anything less, but it was still shocking to be slapped across the snout with it.
Koursturaux waved off the question. “We have several more days to spend together, and we will get to that in due time. I simply want to be sure you know the intention of my letter.”
“I do now, thank you,” Kari said.
“Has there been no change in your brother-in-law’s condition?”
Kari shook her head and nearly looked away, but she remembered Celigus’ advice and maintained eye contact. “No, Your Majesty, he’s still…paralyzed from the hips down. Even the best healers in the land haven’t had any luck helping.”
The demon king’s black-eyed, unblinking stare was imposing, no trace of what she might be thinking playing upon her countenance. “Your people have a saying: good things come to those who wait. Have faith that a solution will present itself in due time.”
“Is there anything you could do to help, Your Majesty?”
“On this matter, I’m afraid not. Nor, before you ask, is there anything I could do for your mate.” Kari’s jaw tightened and she looked away into the fire before she realized what she was doing. “Yes, I’ve no doubt you are unhappy to be here while your mate languishes, but you must understand that this meeting between you and I will have a far greater and longer impact than even the bond between you and your mate.”
“How can you say that?” Kari blurted, her voice quivering. The only way to stop it from doing so was to get angry, but she knew, even speaking before she considered her words, that to do so would turn this encounter and the entire visit quite sour.
Koursturaux stared at Kari intently, those black pools reflecting firelight in their corners. “Come now, Kari, do you think you are the only one to ever lose a loved one? Do you think, in twelve thousand years, that I’ve never lost anyone I care for?” She chuckled darkly. “Or do you honestly believe that I have never cared for anyone?”
“I don’t really know anything about you, that’s part of why I’m here,” the demonhunter replied after a pause. “All I really know about is how powerful you are.”
“You know nothing of how powerful I am,” the demon king countered, but she waved off her own words. “If this meeting goes as I hope and suspect, it will likely remain that way for the rest of your days. I invited your mate specifically so you would not be apart during these times of trouble. Instead, I find you brought your infant daughter, but no one to watch her while we are otherwise occupied.”
“Durisha seems happy to watch her,” Kari said, and the demon king actually smiled. “I’m curious why you haven’t let her have a child of her own? She certainly seems interested.”
Koursturaux fixed Kari with that unblinking stare again, tilted her head, and let forth an amused chuckle. “I would never have suspected that breeding harmauths would be among your interests.”
“Oh, it’s not…I mean, it’s just that she seems to love playing with my daughter, and Eliza said she’s the sweet one.”
“And that is exactly why I haven’t bred her yet,” the demon king returned. She waved her hand around casually. “I suppose it would be pointless to pose it to you as a question, with how little you know. Females make up less than ten percent of the harmauth population. They are rare, and because of this, they wield the power among their kind. A female will typically have a harem of as many as ten mates, who must compete for her attentions to be chosen to breed. The young are weaned at an exceedingly early age relative to most other races, and as such, the attachment between mother and child is brief.”
“Durisha is too sweet, and I know she would become too attached to a child that is her own. Surisha is more headstrong and has a more dominant personality; she birthed two sons and relinquished them to her mother’s clan with little fuss. The same would not be true of Durisha,
and I am wary of breaking her heart, lest she become more like her sister.”
“Oh. I think I understand now,” Kari said. “They’re really close to you, then? I know they’re your bodyguards, but Durisha said you raised them?”
Koursturaux nodded. “From the time they were calves. Birthing twins nearly killed their mother, and I don’t believe she has ever been able to conceive again since – which, you probably understand now, is a tragedy among their people. I raised them like my own daughters, and they love me as far more than simply their king and patron.”
That was certainly interesting. Kari thought of what Celigus said regarding the people of Mehr’Durillia not all hating their kings. She suspected it was easier for the harmauth twins to love Koursturaux, having been raised by her and serving so closely with her, but it still made Kari wonder. No one denied what Koursturaux was – not even her kast’wa or she herself – but there was clearly more to the demon king than what the title suggested. Kari wondered what it took to get into the king’s good graces, and realized it was an opportunity she was being given at this very moment.
“You have children of your own, though, don’t you? Amastri mentioned you almost died in childbirth once, and said I should ask you about it if I was curious.”
Koursturaux shook her head. “I am going to have to have a word with Amastri about that wagging tongue of hers,” she said. “To answer your questions, I have had dozens of children over the long years of my life. Most of them are dead; some by my own hand. Oh, don’t give me that look, Kari, the temptation of power can corrupt even the best-raised children, and open attempts at usurping one’s throne cannot be tolerated. If your children tried to kill you, I suspect they would meet the same end, no matter what you may think now, before it has happened.”
Kari was mortified, but she didn’t get a chance to answer before Koursturaux continued, “The last time I was with child, there was a complication, and I am told I nearly perished. Yes, I suspect you thought that such a thing couldn’t happen to a demon king, or that such surely could not kill one of us. Incorrect. Thanks to the efforts of an elestram surgeon who is now part of my personal staff, both the child and myself were spared. I still have the scar here.” She leaned back far enough in her seat to indicate a barely-noticeable line of scar tissue below her navel that was only a slightly different shade than the rest of her crimson skin. “Should you wish to know more about it, you will have to ask my surgeon, Evanja, as I was not awake for the procedure.”
Kari wasn’t sure what to say to all that; it was certainly more open than she expected the demon king to be. The conversation dried up for a while as they finished their dinners. Kari was pleased by the quality of the food, and she made certain to thank the king for the honor of eating something Koursturaux had hunted herself. The little niceties seemed to register well with the imposing king, and though she had declared that she cared only for the basics of etiquette while Kari was her guest, the demonhunter did her best to be proper in everything. It had the desired effect, as far as Kari could tell, and oddly enough, Koursturaux seemed more relaxed when the wine was poured to go with their dessert.
Kari indulged in a sweet, chewy pastry and a little bit of wine, afraid of putting off her host. Durisha brought Uldriana back once dinner was complete, and with the demon king’s permission, Kari began to nurse her at the table. With a command from Koursturaux to a couple of servants, there was soon a masterfully sculpted marble chess board on the table. Kari wasn’t well-acquainted with the game, but unless they used different rules on Mehr’Durillia, she suspected she could at least play along.
“I don’t think I’m going to be much of a match for you, Your Majesty,” she commented as she looked over her pieces. They were different than those she had seen back home, but the setup seemed to be the same. “Are all the pieces and the rules the same as what I know?”
“Of course,” Koursturaux said. “This is the more typical game popular among humans. We do have a different set that I prefer, but it would take too much time to explain its rules and get you acquainted with the particulars.”
They began playing, and less than a minute passed before the demon king tipped over one of Kari’s pieces, declaring, “Checkmate.”
“What?” the demonhunter blurted, nearly tipping her daughter off her lap as she leaned over the board. “What? How is that possible?”
“Ah, Kari, you really aren’t familiar with this game, are you?”
“Not really,” she said, remembering to make eye contact when speaking. “I figured I do enough real fighting on the battlefield, so what’s the point in playing games about it?”
“Hasht,” the demon king said, and Kari wondered at how, in the context of Se’sasha – the syrinthian priestess she’d rescued – having made a similar sound, it was more like a word. “Tactics are not something one divides between battle and relaxation. Chess is a game, but it teaches you many things about life, like seeing what is coming well before it happens. Knowing how to be several moves ahead of your enemies and anticipate their moves will not only make you a better fighter, but a better leader in general, a better negotiator, and even – dare I say – a better lover.”
“For all the good that will do me,” Kari muttered.
“Relationships change after you have children,” Koursturaux said with that casual little gesture. “You and your mate will figure things out when your children are a little older.”
“It’s not that,” Kari explained. “The disease that’s killing my husband has, well, already killed his ability to make love.”
“Ah,” the demon king offered, but she said no more.
They set the board up again for another game, and this time, Kari was prepared for the four-move strike. She lasted a little longer, but the demon king bested her handily yet again. What was worse, Kari was pretty sure that after the four-move victory, Koursturaux had gone easy on her, for all the difference it made. She managed to capture only a couple of the king’s pawns before her own king fell.
“So, you and Celigus play this all the time, I heard?” Kari offered.
Koursturaux regarded her for a moment. “He has the greatest tactical mind I have come across in twelve eras,” the demon king said. “He may be the greatest tactical mind of this age, and perhaps of any age. Surely you saw as much in his results during your Apocalypse, yes?”
“I didn’t see or hear much about it, but I know his defense along the Ceritan Mountains was instrumental in keeping Seril contained to the heartlands,” Kari said. “News was hard to come by during the War, and usually just centered around where aid was needed, how things were going overall, and important deaths.”
“You know he trained your Warlord?” the demon king asked, and Kari couldn’t stop her brows from going up. “Oh, yes. Kristofer’s father was not his sole teacher. That tactical mind is the product of several tutors, one of which was my kast’wa.”
That explains a lot, Kari thought. “I know he’s also a master with that black greatsword of his…what does he call it? Bloodfang?” Koursturaux nodded. “Did he teach you some of his tricks with the blade, Your Majesty?”
The demon king’s brow came low, which was only made more imposing by the horns and the eyes. After a moment, though, there was a twitch in the corner of her mouth, and she let out a chuckle that may have been humorless. “Quite the opposite,” she answered. “I taught him much of what he knows regarding its use. He was a fairly proficient fighter when we met, but he was not the warrior his brother was; his was always the tactical mind, whereas Sherkenn was the battlefield master.”
“So you knew Sherkenn?”
“Only by reputation. I was required to watch their ascension to power from a distance, as I was barred by the Overking’s law from intervening in what we call the War of Seven Fronts. I didn’t care for the minor kings that squabbled in Sansrigar, but when Celigus and Sherkenn killed their father and waged war on their neighbors, it caught my attention. I had never seen such tenacity
and tactical genius: while Sherkenn should have been outmatched and easily beaten by his enemies, he and Celigus outfoxed them all. They turned the other kings on each other, and then used surgical strikes to remove most of them. When the final three joined forces, that was when Sherkenn ultimately fell to his own arrogance, but Celigus took up the reins himself and ultimately conquered Sansrigar.”
“And you two became kast’was after that?”
“Kast’wasi,” Koursturaux corrected. “But no. It wasn’t until Celigus came to his first session of the Anthraxis Council to be recognized by the Overking that I actually met him face to face. Even as the conqueror of Sansrigar, he had still not seen the turning of an era, and I was not pleased that he was to ascend to a Council seat when he wasn’t a true king. One must see the passing of at least a thousand years before they are eligible to become a recognized king and member of the Council, normally.”
“Do you have any idea how he got around that?” Kari asked, thoroughly enjoying this. She wondered what Celigus would think if she confronted him with all of these secrets.
“Soul stealing,” the demon king answered, the tilt of her head making Kari think she expected that was common knowledge. “Celigus once tapped into a black magic that he used to steal the life-force of his enemies. While none of those ‘minor kings’ he defeated to conquer the realm of Sansrigar would have been strong enough to sit on the Council, combined their power would have been considerable. Add to this those who lay dying on the battlefields, and – I have long suspected – Sherkenn, and Celigus was already considerably more powerful than many of the older kings serving on the Council at the time.”
“He killed his own brother to become a king?” Kari balked. “No wonder he never talks about his past.”
“No, he did not kill his own brother, but I suspect he absorbed his brother’s power after Sherkenn was killed. He may have done the same to his father after they killed him. There is no way of telling just how many people Celigus absorbed his power from, and he has ever remained silent about it. Fortunately, he ceased using this power some time ago, though I suspect that the damage was already done.”