A carriage sent by the Council meant only one thing.
The notoriously anti-human Spires had sent a diplomatic envoy to speak to Nathan.
Chapter 26
Nathan waited for the dark elves in his office. He had dealt with them before and knew that he needed to handle the envoy with care.
The Aurelian Spires were an ancient city-state that sat at the heart of Doumahr. The city loomed over Forselle Valley and was built into the northern half of the Gharrick Mountains.
Scholars believed that the ancient sandstone spires had been built by the First Peoples, which was the name given to the faeries of old. Modern faeries didn’t deserve such an important name, even if they still referred to themselves using it.
This wasn’t prejudice to Nathan. Something had changed in the faeries at some point. The First Peoples had built the system of cairns across Doumahr, mapped out the leylines, and established the entire system of Bastions. While it was frowned upon to admit as much, they had been the Watcher Omria’s favored ones well before the Anfang Empire existed.
Then something happened. Omria moved on, and the faeries became less important. Most history from before the Anfang Empire was based on archaeological evidence, rather than written record, so nothing was certain. But the fact that nobody recorded what happened between Omria and the faeries remained cause for concern. Particularly given her disappearance.
The Empire was ancient. Millenia old. But the Spires and cairns were older still.
Had Omria abandoned the First Peoples and moved on to humanity? Was history repeating? Was that why she had disappeared over four hundred years ago?
Nathan didn’t know. Nobody did. Even timeless spirits such as Ifrit refused to speak about her. For whatever reason, Kadria clammed up when it came to Omria.
In the end, the origins of the Spires remained a mystery. As did Omria herself.
What wasn’t a mystery was how the Spires came into the possession of the dark elves. The declining power of the faeries allowed their servants to overthrow them, and the dark elves claimed the shining jewel of the fae kingdom. Between the rise of humanity in the west and the rebellion of the dark elves, the faeries were pushed east.
There, the faeries founded the Republic of Arcadia. Although not until they had butchered each other for a good thousand or so years in a brutal civil war. The fields of Arcadia were steeped so heavily in blood that there were folk tales about it. Some even suggested that the productivity of their fields was due to how many dead faeries there were in the ground.
These days, Arcadia was considered something of paradise. An idyllic natural habitat of beautiful lakes, forest, and grasslands. At least, so long as you were a faerie.
The Spires weren’t much different to Arcadia. The dark elves were originally a nocturnal race that lived underground. The faeries had enslaved them and used them as laborers, taking advantage of their impressive magic prowess. Both surface-dwelling and subterranean elves were the most powerful magic using mortal races on Doumahr, save for the faeries and mystic foxes.
But where the surface elves were pacifists, and abhorred violence, the dark elves soaked up the teachings of their masters like a sponge did dirty water.
The culture within the Spires encouraged public humiliation, physical punishment, open hatred of non-dark elves, and diplomatic isolation.
Nathan firmly believed that the only thing that stopped the dark elves from attempting to conquer Doumahr was their strong dislike of sunlight. While millennia of adaptation had changed them, the average dark elf preferred to spend all day curled up in a squat hole in a rat’s nest of a city, rather than face the sun for an hour.
The insane sprawl of the Spires wasn’t due to poverty or an outright dislike of the people who lived there. It was the most desirable way for dark elves to live on the surface. Dark elves who didn’t mind the sun—like Nurevia—had spent most of their lives denying their natural preferences. Champions, Bastions, merchants, and diplomats were groomed from birth to withstand long days in the sun.
Which made the approaching diplomatic envoy all the more significant. The dark elves never reached out to other races. Nathan knew this from experience. The Empire had collapsed, Arcadia had been in the midst of another civil war, and the Federation was in the grips of Torneus’s madness. And they still had required Charlotte to publicly embarrass herself in front of the Council.
Nathan fiddled with the mirror that Alice had left behind while he waited. It was a small hand mirror. Alice had inscribed her name on the back. It seemed familiar somehow, although he couldn’t place why.
As tempting as it was to contact her using the mirror, and possibly even include her in this meeting, he ignored the urge.
For one, she was likely still traveling with Charlotte. Nurevia’s warning rung in his mind.
He also suspected the dark elves wanted to speak with him alone. The fact that they arrived within hours of Alice’s carriage leaving was suspicious. And why weren’t they contacting him ahead of time? Why not contact the Emperor? Or Archduke von Milgar?
The door swung open. Nobody had knocked.
Nathan placed the mirror on top of the desk, reflective side down.
A pair of dark elves strode in, one male, one female. Behind them, Sen and the wolfgirl knight from earlier glared daggers into the backs of the visitors.
A red garnet shimmered in the woman’s collarbone. Like most dark elves, she dressed conservatively. The only skin she showed was above her neck, and a small sliver in the cutout around her gem. Her face was unfamiliar to Nathan, which was unsurprising given she was a monogem Champion. She gave him a haughty look and gestured for him to rise from his seat.
The man was familiar, however. He had spoken with Charlotte several times. His name escaped Nathan. What Nathan did remember was that he was a diplomat who specialized in dealing with humans. Nurevia had disliked him, but he had seemed reasonable enough, even if he played the same games as most dark elves. His skin was the color of ash, and he wore a tailored silk suit that was almost the same color.
Unlike most dark elves, both of them wore no visible piercings. Nurevia had been the same, at least when clothed. This was deliberate.
Although ostentatious shows of jewelry and faces covered in piercings were a sign of wealth and prosperity for dark elves, they knew that the same didn’t hold in other cultures. Champions, Bastions, and diplomats refrained from visible piercings in order to appeal to non-dark elf preferences.
The diplomat raised an eyebrow when Nathan remained seated. The corner of his mouth turned upward ever so slightly, and his black eyes narrowed.
“Bastion Nathan Straub, I assume?” the diplomat said. He tilted his head in acknowledgement, but refused to bow. “I am Sureev van Jormun.” He paused. “As you are of noble origin yourself, I assume I don’t need to explain my origins?” His eyes bore into Nathan’s.
Ah, yes, the “if you don’t know dark elf culture, you are lesser” attitude. Diplomacy with dark elves was all about posturing.
Nathan refused to stand, not because he was being impolite, but because it would be taken as a sign of weakness. Sureev was asserting dominance, despite being an uninvited guest from a nation that wasn’t in the good graces of the Empire. Every inch that Nathan gave out of politeness would be returned with a sneer and an attempt to claim moral superiority.
“You are Sureev, from the Jormun spire,” Nathan said flatly. “It’s the central spire where the Council of Aurelia conducts its business. I’d say I’m honored to host such a prestigious guest, but I’m a military man in service to my Emperor, and I don’t have the foggiest clue why you’re here.”
The dark elf Champion’s eyes nearly shot out of her head. She took a step forward.
To Nathan’s surprise, Sureev laughed. Not a chuckle, but a deep-throated laugh that bounced off the walls.
“Leave us,” Sureev said to his Champion.
“Honored Envoy, I—” the Champion began to say.
Sureev’s face hardened, and the Champion swallowed her words. She pushed her way past Sen and the wolfgirl without a backward glance.
After a long look at Nathan, Sen closed the door and left Nathan alone with Sureev.
Several long moments passed before Sureev turned to face the door.
“This room is warded, I assume?” he asked.
“Would a Bastion conduct business in a room that isn’t?”
“A smart one wouldn’t. It is fortunate that my first impression of you is as positive as my spies told me it would be.” Sureev pulled out a chair and took a seat. “Normally I would keep the charade going, but I am here to conduct important business on behalf of the council. Angering you does not behoove me.”
“And here I thought angering humans was the dark elf national sport,” Nathan said.
“It is, but sport is played in public. We are most decidedly not in public.” The dark elf waved a hand toward the cabinets and shelves behind Nathan. “Is there any possibility of a drink?”
After a moment of thought, Nathan rose. “Any preference?”
“A local lager would be nice. I can drink aged wine and spirits at my leisure in the Spires, but you Anfang brew some delightful regional beer at this time of year. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine when I visit Aleich during winter.”
There weren’t any kegs in Nathan’s office. He doubted whether anybody kept kegs of beer in their office. Was this a test by Sureev to see if the servants were listening, and would turn up in moments with beer to prevent Nathan from being embarrassed?
Was that even something that might happen with nobility and the Spires? Nathan genuinely had no clue, although he certainly had memories of servants turning up suspiciously quickly with drinks and food after they were requested.
Whatever Sureev’s intentions, Nathan had no such intelligence network of servants to spy on his needs.
Nathan walked over to the door and opened it. Sen and the dark elf Champion were outside, glaring at one another.
“Sen, have the servants bring a jug of lager and some ceremonial steins,” Nathan said.
She blinked at him. He didn’t wait to see her reaction before closing the door.
“It’ll be here in a few minutes,” Nathan said.
Sureev chuckled. “And here I thought you’d keep it on tap in your office. Wouldn’t a network of pipes and a brewery be simple for you?”
“Absolutely not. Shipping in the raw material would be a nightmare. And the pipes would play havoc with the wards. How could I ward the office if I intentionally put a hole in it?” Nathan shook his head.
“Create the material here, then,” Sureev suggested.
“Then the beer tastes terrible. Even with processing, magically created food and drink is flavorless garbage. I’d be better off riding into a random village and drinking whatever they’ve brewed,” Nathan said.
“Hmm. I hadn’t thought that you couldn’t salvage the end product, but I suppose I’m not the Bastion.” Sureev shrugged.
Nathan wasn’t sure what to make of the man in front of him. His memories suggested that Sureev wasn’t to be entirely trusted, but the attitude on show was different from the one shown in Nathan’s timeline. Had Nathan impressed the Council that much?
Or had Charlotte been that unimpressive?
“Do you really care that much that I knew what your name meant?” Nathan asked, leaning on his desk with his arms folded.
“No, but everything adds up.” Sureev leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “A Bastion who was exiled by his imperialist father for harboring pro-beastkin tendencies is of interest. When that same Bastion thwarts an invasion by the Federation and wins the backing of Leopold Tyrim, he becomes a man to watch closely. Stealing two Champions from another Bastion, winning a string of victories, and making well-founded accusations of heresy against one of the most powerful and ambitious men on Doumahr?”
“I get your point. I’m standing out,” Nathan said.
“You’re a radiant beacon of glory,” Sureev corrected. “And one that the Council wishes to work with. That’s not an honor offered lightly.”
There was a knock at the door, saving Nathan the need to respond to Sureev’s words. A maid brought in a tray with a massive metal container and two blown glass steins. Unlike King George’s gargantuan stein, these were only the size of an ordinary tankard. Engraved into the glasses were intricate images of Omria interweaved with emblems of the Empire.
When they were alone again, Sureev poured a tall, foamy glass of the pale beer. He took a long draft and nodded approvingly.
“I’ve missed this,” the dark elf said. “Now, to business. I don’t need to tell you that things have gone awry recently.”
“There was a tiny cascade, yes.”
Sureev’s smile dimmed slightly. “Yes, and that is our business. What do you make of the current situation at the Spires?”
“You’re assuming I know?” Nathan asked.
“You’ll be considerably less useful to the Council if you don’t.”
Nathan wasn’t even sure what was happening now, but he decided to play along. “There aren’t any demons running around Forselle Valley, so if the city is in lockdown by the army, that means the Council wants to keep somebody in. Or somebody out.”
“Oh? You’re not worried that we’re concerned about an imminent assault by land? Hasn’t that been your concern?” Sureev smirked.
Nathan scoffed. “The Federation lacks the power to threaten the Spires. Arcadia would fall to pieces internally if attempted to use its army. And I can’t imagine any reason the Empire or Trafaumh would attack the Spires. Who else would attack you by land? The Far Reaches are practically uninhabited.”
“A curious opinion about Arcadia,” the dark elf said. He drained his glass and poured another. The map across the table drew his attention. Or more accurately, he made an obvious show of looking at it. “But yes, you’re correct. The cascade has alarmed the Council. It should not have happened. The portals within the Spires have been active for longer than any dark elf is aware of, and a Messenger could arrive at any time. The fact one was closed during an invasion without the Council’s approval, or that of any of the three Bastions responsible for each of them, is deeply concerning.”
“And?” Nathan asked.
“And the Council will not allow such heresy to stand. The safety of the city is threatened, and that of our entire race. I trust you understand our feelings?” Sureev’s expression hardened. His fingers traced the border with the Federation.
From Nathan’s experience, the Council had never really cared about heresy. Or even the safety of the Spires.
This was about the power of the Council. Somebody had deceived the most powerful dark elves on Doumahr, and they were furious. Nobody held a grudge like a politician betrayed.
“You’re here to cut a deal,” Nathan said. He took a seat and finally drank his own beer.
“I am. I trust you can keep this matter private.”
“I am a Bastion of the Emperor,” Nathan reminded Sureev.
“Not that private.” The dark elf chuckled. “But chattering nobles do not need to know how nations are truly run, do they?”
Sureev’s fingers found the center of the Federation and he tapped one city in particular. “Our objectives align, I believe. The Council wants you to bring us High Lord Torneus, so that he can be tried for the crime of heresy against the Aurelian Spires and the dark elf people. You want him gone as well, do you not?”
Nathan leaned back in his chair. This was a turn of events he hadn’t anticipated.
But Torneus losing his allies only accelerated history. It didn’t help Nathan.
“What does the Empire gain from this? In case you haven’t noticed, we’ve been trying to end the war with the Federation,” Nathan said. “I doubt the Emperor will be happy to hand over the catalyst for the war to a foreign nation, unless there’s something to gain.”
“Of course. You want peace and st
ability. So do we. As such, the Council will support the Empire’s claim to the Federation’s territory in return for Torneus. There would also be some additional treaties required, particularly for trade and guaranteeing the defensive line along the Houkeem Desert, but the offer is decisive.”
Had Nathan heard that correctly?
“Define support,” Nathan said, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Diplomatic and military. As I said, we want stability. Do you think the Federation can remain stable in its current state? Do you think it can hold off the demons swarming across its eastern border?” Sureev sneered. “Nobody wants another Kurai. Torneus has made his bed. But there is no reason we should lay in it with him.”
Afterward, there was little else to discuss. Nathan gifted the diplomat a small keg of lager to take with him and arranged for another meeting in the near future.
Conquering a foreign nation wasn’t a decision to be taken lightly. Nathan needed at least a few days to think on it, and to figure out who to involve. On the surface, he claimed he would involve the Imperial family.
In truth, he wasn’t sure what to do. Nathan knew nothing about Emperor Gorthal or Archduke von Milgar. Leopold was incapacitated and had left him with the authority to do what he felt was necessary.
That left Anna and Alice. One of them was still traveling and would be unavailable for a little longer. Nathan promised himself that he would contact her using the mirror tonight, even if it was only to organize a time they could talk in private.
But Anna would be returning to the fortress this afternoon. Nathan already knew what he wanted to do when it came to Torneus, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he was falling into a trap. The dark elves had never been so proactive before.
Whatever the case, Nathan needed to decide soon. The end of winter approached.
Chapter 27
“I’m guessing that was a fairly heavy meeting,” Sen said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you run away from your office that fast.”
Heretic Spellblade 2 Page 24