Heretic Spellblade 2

by K D Robertson

  Narime nodded and waited for Nathan to step forward. She seemed unwilling to engage with the Federation for some reason.

  Suddenly, George spotted them. His bushy eyebrows shot up into his thick mop of ginger hair at the sight of them. He placed his second plate down at his seat and gave the three of them an ostentatious bow.

  George wore an outfit that was probably elegant and in-fashion some time before Nathan was born. Maybe even before Nathan’s father was born. It was garishly bright, and consisted of a ruffled silk shirt, leather vest, pants, and a fur coat. George’s hair had lost its color decades ago, no doubt, but was thick as hay. Despite his size, he walked unaided, although Nathan noticed a jeweled cane leaning against the table beside the chair.

  Nathan took that as a signal to approach. “Well met, my lord.”

  George’s lips quirked at the dismissal of his rank. He styled himself as a king, but he was no such thing. The regents were powerful, but no matter what they called themselves, the Empire had deemed them all to have the equivalent status of counts.

  Which was an unsubtle way of saying that the Federation’s rulers were lower rank than the rulers of the Empire. Realistically, they were closer to dukes, but Nathan wasn’t about to give Torneus or the other regents more respect than they were due.

  “Indeed. Indeed.” George mopped his brow with a handkerchief. “I can tell at a glance that you must be Bastion Nathan. You have your mother’s eyes. And your father’s jaw. You’re an impressive one.”

  Nathan blinked. What even was happening right now?

  “It is an honor to meet you, King George,” Anna said, curtsying at precisely the right depth and angle she was obliged to for politeness. “I don’t believe we’ve met but—”

  “Ah, my dear Anna. Oh, yes, I remember you from when you were only this big.” George held his hand close to his knee for effect. “It’s a shame the way things have played out, given how close your father and I were. Such a shame.”

  Given George was one of the three conspirators behind the war, Nathan doubted that George felt much shame at all. If he did, then he wouldn’t be so bald-faced in trying to suck up to them.

  Anna’s smile turned brittle for a moment, but she quelled her anger. “It is, George.” The fat man’s eyes flashed at the dismissal of his rank, but he remained quiet. Anna continued, “Hopefully, we’ll be able to put all of this behind us. I’m surprised to see you here. I heard that only two of the regents were coming in person.”

  “Ah, well, about that—” George stumbled over his words.

  “I’d appreciate knowing if any other regents have changed their mind,” Nathan said. “I am responsible for security and knowing how many important guests are coming and why makes it easier to plan around. The last thing we need is for these negotiations to make the war worse.”

  George’s eyes widened. “A fair point. Very well. I’ll admit it. How could I miss an opportunity to see Her Imperial Highness in person? The Empire has never deigned to send a member of the Imperial family to negotiate with the Federation.”

  That was it? He wanted to meet Alice?

  “Don’t look at me like that. You are fortunate to still be part of the Empire, and from a family close to the Imperial family.” A scowl crossed George’s face briefly. “I can trace my lineage back to the Empire’s archdukes of yore, and even further back than young trash such as von Milgar.”

  Nathan remained silent. It was difficult to take the regent seriously when he admitted to attending the negotiations only because he wanted to meet a personal celebrity of his.

  “I know a few others are also coming. Korvell wanted to come, even. He’s only a merchant. When would a mere commoner such as him get the chance to speak directly to a member of the oldest royal family on Doumahr?” George chuckled. “Torneus told him no, of course.”

  “You’re telling them this?” Narime blurted out.

  Raising an eyebrow, George looked past Nathan and Anna. “Oh, I hadn’t seen you there, Narime.”

  Narime glowered at him. That was possibly the fattest line of bullshit George had fed in his life. Narime’s tails were physically larger than she was. Only a blind man could miss her.

  “In the end, we want the same thing,” George said, his arms outstretched. “An end to the current hostilities.”

  “And to deal with the heresy that nearly destroyed my county,” Anna added, her tone dark.

  George’s eyes flashed with fear, but his expression remained unmoved. “Of course, Lady von Clair. We all wish for heresy to be rooted out wherever it hides. Are we not all servants to the goddess?”

  Not all of us, Nathan thought.

  As George shuffled back to his table, Nathan worried that he might be more like George than he cared to admit. After all, he was the one paying regular visits to a demonic Messenger and doing unspeakable things with her.

  Fei returned shortly with Sunstorm and her knights. Nobody else had arrived yet, so Nathan let them grab some food from inside the tent before shooing away the thankful beastkin. George glared at the beastkin who dared to get close to the food but said nothing.

  Minutes passed. Nathan drained most of a tankard of lager while chatting with Anna about some of the renovation plans for her manor. Eventually, Alice arrived.

  And next to Alice was a man that Nathan sincerely hoped hadn’t come. An obnoxiously handsome man, with a brutishly deep voice and a set of gleaming plate armor that had probably never seen battle.

  Theus was here and appeared to be chatting up Alice.

  Chapter 14

  If asked, Seraph described Theus as carved from marble and with a face ripped from a painting. She also said his sculptor had forgotten to hollow out his head, which left no space for his brain to go.

  Nathan considered that a long way of saying that Theus was as stupid as he was handsome. According to Leopold, he was also a coward.

  Right now, Theus lived up to the idiot side of his description, if not the coward part. He preened as he spoke to Alice, trying to subtly flex his pointlessly huge biceps.

  Nathan wondered why a Bastion even needed muscles that large. The binding stone gave him superhuman strength.

  Alice’s expression was polite, but frozen. Her eyes screamed for somebody to rescue her. Leopold was immediately behind her, but if he said anything it went in one of Theus’s ears and out the other.

  Scowling, Nathan took a step forward.

  “Enough, you dolt,” a cold voice drawled. “I brought you here at Princess Alice’s request, given the seriousness of the charges being levied against you. You insult both yourself and the Federation with your antics.”

  Torneus stepped into view. He pushed Theus’s head down. It was a comical sight, given the height and size differences.

  Theus was a giant of a man, standing well over six foot and with biceps the size of Torneus’s torso.

  By contrast, Torneus looked every part an ordinary old man. His white hair was closely cropped, he was clean-shaven, and he wore simply but refined robes. Theus could break the old man over his knee.

  Despite that, Theus let himself be humiliated in front of some of the most powerful people in Doumahr, and the princess he had been trying to sleep with. Alice covered her mouth, but Nathan saw her smile from his vantage point.

  After letting go of Theus, Torneus strode into the center of the tent. His sharp eyes found Nathan. The two men locked gazes.

  It was only the second time in Nathan’s life that he had met Torneus’s gaze. Once again, it proved difficult.

  Torneus’s eyes burned with an inner fire. He was like a man possessed. If the eyes were the window to the soul, the Torneus’s soul spoke of a conviction that nothing could overturn. A generous man would say he was driven.

  A sane man would say that Torneus was mad.

  Torneus frowned, then swept up to a keg and poured a lager. Afterward, he took a seat.

  The afternoon was uneventful. Torneus said nothing, besides an introduction and some
pleasantries that sounded very unpleasant. Theus sulked in the corner while one of his duogem Champions stroked his chest and probably muttered obscene things to him.

  Only two aspects of Alice’s speeches drew much attention, and ire, from the Federation regents.

  The first were the heresy accusations. Glares were thrown at Theus when Alice read them out. Nobody dared to so much as look at Torneus, although Nathan heard some grumblings over the food later. Torneus didn’t react and simply sipped his beer.

  But what really annoyed the regents was the claim that the Empire’s terms for peace were the new borders. George in particular was furious that he was going to lose land.

  “Perhaps you could have thought ahead, and not started a war,” one of the regents muttered.

  Shouts erupted in response, and George rose to his feet. A fight nearly broke out within the Federation representatives, while Torneus rolled his eyes. Eventually, the Champions and knights intervened and pushed everybody apart.

  “Is that normal?” Nathan asked Narime.

  “I wouldn’t say normal, but it isn’t uncommon,” Narime said with a grimace. “Even Torneus gets involved sometimes. He knocked Duke Terrius out last year.”

  Nathan blinked. “With a chair, or a bottle?”

  “Neither. With his fists.”

  Nathan reevaluated the evil old man. While he didn’t need to worry about Torneus’s haymaker, it still meant he was a much different person than he had thought.

  The eastern cities were a much rougher place than Falmir, Nathan supposed. Torneus hadn’t been born into power but had instead claimed it through scheming and violence.

  As negotiations for the day wound up, Nathan busied himself with security. Fights and other quarrels broke out. He had his magic users check that none of the food or drink was being poisoned. Sunstorm captured a few spies, and the Federation dumped a couple back in return, but no assassination attempts were made.

  Alice’s tent remained impregnable, besides who she invited in. When a messenger told Nathan that his presence was requested, he double-checked everything in the encampment. Seraph called him a coward, and he glared back at her.

  “I’m going to be tied up listening to her practice and prepare all night. I want to make sure everything is fine,” Nathan said.

  “That’s why I’m here. Go handle your princess,” Seraph said. “You seem rather practiced at it for a man who’s never dealt with royalty before.”

  Nathan froze at the comment, but Seraph walked away to handle another matter. There were too many things to take care of for the two of them to chat and bicker.

  And every moment he wasted was another moment that Alice grew more annoyed.

  “Oh, so you were coming. I worried that you were annoyed with me,” Alice said when he joined her.

  “I am responsible for security and this entire negotiation, Your Highness,” Nathan said drily.

  “Thank you for reminding me that I have no idea how to handle diplomacy of this scale, despite barging in on you.” Alice gave him an odd look. “Although where you learned how to handle it is an excellent question. Leopold is evasive on the matter, but last I remember, you ran a county before becoming a Bastion. Counts don’t handle international negotiation.”

  “International negotiation is the same as other diplomatic events, just bigger,” Nathan bullshitted.

  “Oh, yes, except for the greatly increased security, the need to build the entire location wholesale, the greatly increased risk of poisoning and assassination, and the fact that nobody can be relied on as an intermediary,” Alice said sharply. “I was always taught that negotiations with enemies took place with a neutral power to help.”

  “That’s ideal, but there isn’t one,” Nathan replied. He looked around the tent. Alice hadn’t bothered to unpack, he noticed. She wore a gorgeous blood red dress that left her calves bare, and shoes that had decorative straps up to her knees, but he saw no sign of any other “princessy” things in her tent. “Is Leopold not joining us tonight?”

  “I wanted to talk to you. After tomorrow, there’s a good chance I won’t see you for… let’s say a long time.” Alice screwed up her face, then let her smile return. “And you say there isn’t one, but there is a massive city-state to the north, and a nation full of fairies and elves not far from it. Both share borders with both the Empire and the Federation.”

  “And both the Aurelian Spires and the Republic of Arcadia are implicated in Torneus’s plan,” Nathan said. “The time they could be considered neutral powers passed the moment they signed defensive pacts with the Federation.”

  “Ah, yes, such normal knowledge for a fresh Bastion and count,” Alice said. “Don’t take this the wrong way. I adore your help here. I can only imagine the things we could accomplish if we worked together in the Empire.” Alice’s gaze became distant. “But it makes me question things. You Bastions are always so damn secretive, and you’re fairly open. How much does Leopold know that Grandpa doesn’t? What does Tharban know that makes him so angry about non-humans?”

  “Not much,” Nathan said.

  “About non-humans?”

  “About anything.”

  “Harsh.” Alice giggled. She paused and gave Nathan a soft smile. “Thank you, Nathan. It’s been a pleasure.”

  “We still have the trip back,” he said, finding this meeting a bit odd. It was very unlike what he had expected.

  But what had he expected, and why?

  “Maybe, but I know that Uncle Leopold wants me back in the capital as soon as possible. If we can get a peace treaty, then there’s no reason for me to remain here. Plus, Charlotte is so antsy. I thought she’d enjoy being away from home, but all she does is squeak and sneak looks when she thinks nobody is looking.”

  That sounded nothing like the Princess Charlotte that Nathan knew.

  “Goodnight, Nathan. I’ll see you in the morning. Try to get some sleep this time.” Alice paused, and her cheeks flushed. “Actual sleep. I know what you do with your Champions.”

  After letting out a cough, Nathan said, “Goodnight, Alice.”

  The beaming smile she gave him when he called her by her name was a memory he would treasure.

  As he wandered back to his tent, he realized why he had been expecting something different.

  Alice reminded him of Charlotte. Everything about the way she acted was like a more boyish, younger version of Charlotte. Where Charlotte was an otherwise typical princess with a deeply aggressive streak and extensive knowledge, Alice was a tomboy who adopted her princess persona out of necessity and her desire to support the Empire. But the results felt similar, somehow.

  Was this another effect of his transportation to this timeline? It reminded him of the strange coincidence that his father in both timelines had been a Bastion that he had become estranged from.

  A question for Kadria when he returned to Gharrick Pass.

  For now, he had one more day of negotiations. One more day to protect Alice from any threats, and to see how Torneus would attempt to torch the peace treaty.

  Chapter 15

  If anybody had mistaken Torneus’s silence from the previous day for weakness, they were sorely mistaken.

  On the second day of negotiations, Torneus took the offensive. He didn’t allow any of the other regents to get a word in and began his attack the moment pleasantries ended.

  “The Federation will not accept a peace treaty brokered under duress,” Torneus uttered. “Your accusations are one step short of blackmail, and your refusal to revert to pre-hostility borders belies your true purpose.”

  “Our true purpose?” Alice said, eyes wide in disbelief. “And what might that be, High Lord Torneus?”

  Torneus’s lip curled up in a sneer as he prepared to launch a blistering verbal assault. “The restoration of the Anfang Empire to its former glory, of course. The land you’ve seized once belonged to the Empire, before King George II’s family seceded from your failing state. If you had the chance, you’d
take the rest of his land as well. Everybody knows that the Empire is at war with the Order of Trafaumh in order to reclaim your lost territory. You’ve even insulted Falmir over similar pretenses.”

  “That’s a lie,” Alice snapped. She hid a grimace as she realized she took Torneus’s bait.

  “Is it? Weren’t you dispatched by Emperor Gorthal to negotiate with the Kingdom of Falmir after the Imperial Diet gravely insulted them? But you’re here now. Such amazing negotiation skills at such a young age, my dear princess.” Torneus’s voice oozed with disdain.

  This time, Alice kept her temper in check.

  And it was Anna who stepped in to support her, “I understand that the Empire is confusing for a foreigner, but you shouldn’t say things that may mislead others, High Lord.”

  “Oh?” Torneus raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. He took the opportunity to drain half his tankard of ale.

  “Falmir lodged a protest over claims made by specific nobles, who happen to be members of the Diet. Saying that the Diet insulted Falmir is like saying that the Empire is accusing the Regency Council of heresy, because one of the Federation’s regents committed heresy.” Anna smiled sweetly at Torneus.

  The glare she received in return would have melted steel if Torneus had the power. “I appreciate your detailed elaboration, Lady von Clair. It still doesn’t explain Her Highness’s presence here today.”

  “I am still in talks with Falmir,” Alice said. “I would appreciate it if you do not insult both me and the Kingdom of Falmir by implying issues with our relationship that do not exist. Particularly in such an environment. It makes you appear insincere.”

  “Does it?” Torneus asked.

  “It does. As does implying that we want peace for the purposes of expansion. If I knew you were such a warmonger that you would undermine these peace talks, I would never have wasted my time on you,” Alice said coldly.

  Torneus smirked in return. Then he rose to his feet, strode over to a keg, and began to slowly refill his tankard.