“Is there something out of place?” Raegith asked, growing anxious as well. “If you’re wondering about the gifts we were supposed to have with us, there was a mishap that can be easily cleared up once I return…”
“Restrain them!” The Empress called out to her guards.
Before Zakk could unsheathe her sword, the guard next to her grabbed her by the arms and held them at her waist. Ebriz and Raegith soon found themselves handled in a similar fashion. Other guards rushed in and lowered their pikes at the three of them. Zakk began cursing and would not stop, while Ebriz simply bemoaned their situation and insisted they should have stayed home in bed.
“Empress, may I ask what has prompted this?” Raegith asked. “We came here in good faith… to deliver a message that you should be altogether familiar with. Your father, surely he can clear this up if he was around for the previous war.”
“The previous Emperor is dead, Green-hair,” the Empress said. For some reason, her face was nearly as full of fear and confusion as the rest of them. “And you are wrong. This message is completely unexpected. There is an addition to the normal declaration… instructions, actually.”
“Yes, instructions to rally for war! That is normal, is it not?”
“The instructions are for me to claim an extra incentive… for killing the members of the party that delivers this scroll,” the Empress answered.
“That can’t be,” Raegith turned to Ebriz and Zakk. “She says the scroll… it’s telling her to kill us for an extra reward.”
The Empress handed the scroll to Beretta who read aloud in the Rellizbix language.
“Furthermore, there is an increasing concern over the secrecy of our mutual agreement. In order to ensure the continued success of our partnership, I ask that you execute the members of this envoy upon receipt of this declaration as to prevent the possibility of their return going noticed. Your compensation for this favor will be in the form of an additional three carts of fine items provided for the nobility of the Greimere Empire. Our continued business depends on this extra measure and I expect you will embrace this opportunity for carnage. Enjoy yourselves and secure your continued prosperity by the grace of my rule.
“By my hand as Ruler of Rellizbix… King Helfrick Caelum.”
As if to reassure the three of their death sentence, the flame-headed woman turned the scroll around to reveal the king’s hand and seal.
“I don’t understand,” Ebriz replied, looking at Raegith. “Why would he do such a thing? His son is among us.”
“Bastard…son…” Raegith said, trailing off as his mind put all of the pieces together. “It must cost a lot to keep a constant guard at Forster’s Keep… and the fear of anyone finding out about me…”
“No! This is Helfrick Caelum! This is the Golden-haired Prince of the Greimere War! He would not do such a thing!” Ebriz protested.
“Such a thing as rig his own wars?” Zakk growled. “Is this the same king who promotes self-righteous Faeir who have no trouble killing Paladins like my uncle? Is this the same king who employs rapists and sadists in his glorious army? Face it bard, a king who sets up staged wars for his own gain is a king who would think nothing of sending his illegitimate son to die far away from anyone to see!”
“Beretta, I was not prepared for this,” the Empress said. “What should I do?”
“Empress, please, give me time to explain,” Raegith pleaded.
“We should consult General Greela,” Beretta replied. “Lock them in a cell until then. This is rather unprecedented and we should not make a hasty decision.”
“What’s happening, Raegith?” Ebriz asked. “Should I start praying?”
“They’re going to discuss what to do with us,” Raegith answered as they guards began to disarm them. “They’re taking us to some sort of prison to sort this all out.”
“What? No!” Zakk screamed.
The Rathgar holding Zakk grunted with some sort of impact and loosened his grip on the girl. In a flash of movement, Zakk had her sword out and plunged it into the guard’s side, under his armor. She spun around and sliced her blade along the arm of the Rathgar holding Ebriz, nearly severing it. Other guards rushed in as Ebriz broke free of his captor, scaled the front of his massive chest and crushed his windpipe with one blow.
“No, stop!” Raegith yelled, horrified by the escalation of events. The Rathgar holding him, drove a foot into the back of his knee and dropped him to the ground, slamming a fist into the back of his head. Raegith’s vision blurred, but he stayed conscious even after his face bounced against the floor.
Raegith looked up to see four Rathgar armed with spears surround Zakk and Ebriz. Zakk defended against two of them, parrying a thrust and slicing her attacker across the face. Then she took a spear to the thigh that drove her to the ground. Ebriz leapt over the spear in Zakk’s leg and careened into the Rathgar, a glint of steel in his hand and Zakk yanked the spear head free in time to dodge the blow from her side. The third Rathgar missed her, but corrected his shot and swung the shaft into her temple. Zakk howled with rage and spun through the blow, coming in on his flank. Before she could reach him, the last standing Rathgar drilled her in the side, nearly cutting her in half.
Raegith was on his feet. His body was acting without thought, just as it had when he defended himself against the Saban soldier beside the carriage cell in south Rellizbix. There was no time for fear or even strategy as he bolted forward and slammed into the Rathgar. In his disoriented state, Raegith was easily overpowered by the large Rathgar and thrown clear of the fight. Raegith rolled across the floor and saw Zakk grab the Rathgar by the armor, pull him in close and slip the blade of her sword through the top of his armor and past his collarbone. She was a cornered beast and even as she lay on the floor, opened up at the waist by a spear and covered in blood, she still fought with precision that was burned into her by the Paladin Hemmil.
Then behind her, stepping through the front door, a grizzled, grey-haired warrior in elaborate plate armor came forth. He was flanked by other guards in different armor than the ones that had brought them in and in his hand was an enormous battle axe. Raegith pointed at him and tried to yell, but there was no air in his lungs. Zakk turned and screamed in hatred, lifting her sword above her head to engage the oncoming monster. His axe pulverized her when it hit and sent her sword flying off into the distance.
Raegith looked up at the warrior as he passed Zakk’s corpse and came right for him. As he raised his axe to deliver the death blow, he looked up at the Empress, stopped and growled with annoyance.
Raegith turned to see Ebriz on the throne, holding the Empress in front of him. A small, bloodied blade was at her throat.
“Beretta!” the warrior yelled in a gravelly voice.
“I cannot do anything about this, Greela,” the vassal replied calmly. “Anything I do will end up burning the mistress.”
She switched languages to address Ebriz. “You’ve already sealed your fate by spilling Rathgar blood, Twileen. Holding the Empress hostage only serves to aggravate your situation. You will not be spared.”
“I don’t care about me, fire-monkey. Heehee, hey Raegith… I told you it was real, didn’t I.” Ebriz laughed and looked at the prince while nodding in the vassal’s direction. Then he turned back to Beretta and his smile dropped. “One of us has spilled no blood at all… I beg you, spare the boy.”
With that, Ebriz dropped the knife to the floor and let go of the Empress. As soon as she pulled away from him, the light-hearted bard was struck by the axe with such force that it picked him off of the throne and stuck him to the stone wall behind it. Raegith could only look on helplessly as his friend hung on the wall and groaned.
“Holy fairy fuckers… why is this taking so long?” Ebriz exhaled and then his limbs slumped and he was gone.
The Rathgar warrior kicked Raegith’s arms out from under him and rolled him onto his back with his armored boot. Raegith fought to keep from crying out as the warrior stepped on
his chest leaned his weight onto him, crushing the prince. He held out his hand and one of the guards gave him a spear which was held up over Raegith’s face.
“Greela, stop!”
The warrior looked up and snarled at the Empress’ command, but did not disobey. “Turn away if you do not wish to see, Mistress!”
“I said stop, Greela!” The Empress was adamant and came forward, getting in the warrior’s intimidating face. “Remove your boot from the Green-hair, now.”
Greela lifted his boot and Raegith sucked in air and coughed. Then he was being hoisted up and held before the Empress, his arms cranked up behind his back so high that a yelp escaped his lips before he could stop it.
“Why does my vassal say the short one wanted you spared so badly?” the Empress demanded. “Why does she tell me they both referred to you as a bastard in the same breath as the Northern King? Why does the Northern King want me to break tradition and kill the messengers?”
Greela hit him in the face so hard than his teeth rattled and then straightened it back toward the front, pressing his cheeks between iron fingers. “Answer the mistress, weakling!”
“I’m sure your majesty can figure this one out for herself!” Raegith hissed between his teeth.
“So you are the King’s son, then,” she answered. “Tainted blood… is not something nobles are likely to accept, on either side of the Cliffs. That’s why you’re here, far away from anyone who might care who you are: to be erased. That’s why I’m getting three carts worth of goods on top of the usual fare all of my ancestors received.”
“I’m glad someone is benefitting from my existence… finally,” Raegith said. “Well what are you waiting for? Get on with it!”
“No.” The Empress walked back to the scroll and lifted it up as Greela brought Raegith forward to her. “Your pompous King does not even attempt pretense as he calls upon the bloodlust of my kind, does he? It’s right here in his handwriting, bidding me to enjoy myself in the slaughter of three, barely-armed messengers, two of which are merely children.”
The Empress looked over the scroll for another moment and then violently tore at it and slung it across the room, forcing Beretta to duck to avoid being hit. She stormed up to Raegith and Greela tightened his grip again.
“That’s what you think of us, isn’t it? That’s what all of the pampered, sun-kissed cowards that inhabit your entire country think! You kill us, over and over, for centuries and then leave us payment along the border after each defeat, like we’re whores! You kill us, desecrate our bodies and then laugh as you plan the next war like a damned dinner party… and yet we’re the monsters?!”
The Empress slapped Raegith across the face, hard and shuddered with rage. Greela released Raegith and the other guards held him as the general approached the Empress, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and whispered into her ear. The Empress closed her eyes and calmed. When Greela finished, she shook her head and opened her eyes at Raegith.
“No, I am not the Northern King’s whore. I am Kalystra of Black Talon and Empress of Greimere and I declare that the Northerners will get no more from me than they have ever received from any of my ancestors. This one speaks our tongue and he is nobility.”
The Empress approached Raegith and stared hard into his eyes. “We have honor here in the Greimere Empire. Your friends attacked us. Had they not assumed the worst of us they might have lived. You are still alive and you will stay that way because I wish you to see who we are… but everything here is earned, bastard son of the North. You will earn your way to knowledge in the Pits. Should you survive, then I will know you were worth saving.”
Chapter 17
Isidora rode upon her warbird, staring up the road and scanning each new person that came over the hill from beneath her dusky hood. Several people gave her a curious look as they passed, but none spoke to her. It was not altogether odd for a Faeir to travel in the open as she did, but in her bland robe and common sandals, she was an odd sight to most. Faeir were either brightly bedazzled in vibrant linens that reflected their patron element, or they were garbed in dull rags to reflect their station as Stone Seers. Dressing somewhere in between was seen as conforming to Saban culture, which was deviant and disgraceful among Faeir. Isidora was not enthused about her attire, but unlike most Faeir, she was not disgusted by it, either. It was not a fashion statement; it was just part of her job. She could not avoid being seen no matter how she dressed, as beautiful and alluring as she was, but in loose, dull clothing, she could avoid being recognized.
Beside her walked her Stone Seer companion, watching the road before him and not daring to look up to meet the eyes of anyone passing by. She could have brought an entire squadron of Saban soldiers loyal to the Council of Faeir, but she did not care for the company of Saban men and her work was much easier performed alone. As she travelled the road, drinking from her decanter of water and watching a Saban lead a pack mule over the hill, she thought back to the events that had necessitated this chore.
Isidora stood before the three Chief Councilors: Herod, Pelagius and Xenon and gave her report on the situation from which she had recently returned.
“The blood might have come out easily enough, but all of the other fluids and debris… the whole place had to be cleansed with acid.” Isidora grinned at the disgusted expressions of her superiors as she detailed the scene she arrived at when the Council sent her to investigate a report of deviant acts being committed between a Faeir noble and a Saban officer. “We told the townsfolk it was all due to evil spirits. I held a Soul Cleansing right in the middle of town, stripping General Jerod down to his skin and just doused the hell out of him with a bucket of water. When I made it swirl around him and glow, the stupid peasants ate it up. The General held a banquet, provided by us, to ease the fears and convince everyone that he was ‘morally clean’ now. For the most part, it worked, but only after we helped him transfer to another station and reimbursed the town for all of the missing goats.”
“That seems like a lot of expended resources for the Saban, Sage,” Herod commented. He was the most critical of the Chiefs and rarely approved of anything she did. “What of the Faeir woman who was a slave to this man’s demented desires? Have you no sympathy for your own kind?”
“The Faeir male who was part of this debauchery was among the lowest rungs of our society; practically an orphan who managed to learn some crude magic and wanted status. He wanted it so badly, he was willing to pleasure a Saban General, going to great lengths to do so. He had his fun and now he’s dead.”
“Isidora! Tell me that you have not committed the sin of murdering another of your kind!” Xenon exclaimed, rising from his chair.
“Of course not, Chief Councilor,” she replied calmly. “The townspeople did that for us when I made it clear that the Faeir male was the one who subverted their poor General.”
“So you did choose a Saban over your own kind!” Herod said, giving her a hard look. “Yet you stand here, remorseless for your sin, and expect no consequence.”
“Chief Councilors, I understand you do not keep up with the particulars of the Saban Regimes. You have much more concerning matters to dwell upon, which is why I track them for you. General Jerod is commander of the Fifth Regiment, which I am sure you recognize as the Regiment that...”
“…patrols the Cardinal Road,” Pelagius finished, smiling at the other two Councilors. “Gentlemen, with Jerod now in our debt, we now carry influence over the Sabans who protect our passage to and from the Crystalline Cathedral. What significance is one deviant to that kind of power?”
“Bah! Sabans are a temperamental breed,” Herod said. “How can we be assured that this General will not succumb to guilt and admit his deviance? We cannot blackmail a man who admits his own fault and our cover-up of this matter could come to light!”
“General Jerrod’s guilt does not seem to be of much issue, Councilors,” Isidora said. “His acceptance of three Stone Seers is a testament to that.”
&nb
sp; “He has Stone Seers? For what purpose?” Xenon asked. Isidora raised an eyebrow at him and his expression turned to disgust.
“I have already recorded the three as missing, unbeknownst to the good General. Should he decide to betray our generosity, it will not be difficult to prove him a kidnapper… or better yet, a murderer.”
“You have done more than we could hope for, Isidora,” Pelagius said, nodding with approval. “You continue to help spread the influence of the Council. Such loyalty is undeniable and also, quite rare these days.”
“Yes, quite rare,” Xenon continued. “The Council may command the loyalty of most Faeir and the compliance of many among the other races, but there are some that disgrace their heritage and swear absolute loyalty to the King. We, the Council, are the voice of the Faeir, not the King! It is detestable that any of our kind would hold a deeper commitment than to us!”
“Not like you, Isidora,” Herod said, his golden, sap-colored eyes locking on her. “It is no secret I disapprove of your methods, your attitude… your entire ideology. All of it is questionable in my eyes. One thing I cannot say is questionable, Isidora, is your loyalty.”
“You will not find one more loyal to the Council than I, Chief Councilor,” Isidora replied, nodding her acceptance of his compliment.
“That is why we are entrusting this endeavor to you, Councilor Isidora of the Aqua Sect.” Herod rarely called anyone by their full title. He considered his own Terrestrial Sect to be superior to all others and using someone’s full title was a sign of respect, which to him meant it should not be used for inferior beings.
Isidora was struck by anxiety immediately. She had not felt nervousness like this since her initial application to the Council. Something strange was about to happen.
“You are aware of the envoy that left for the Greimere Empire several months ago, yes? I believe you deeply involved in that mission, were you not?” Xenon asked.
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