Traitor to the King

by Clare SM Keating

  “Well with that sorted let’s discuss the party… when is it set for Lord Benaga?” The jovial turn of the King’s other favourite pupil, Lord Vasagar mused in delight. Anouk jumped in surprise and turned her head toward the handsome elder man with a snort of irritation. Vasagar was the biggest ladies’ man and one of the most eligible bachelors within Virenheim and he knew it! With a ceremonial position of Head Butler and known as the best sword master in the Kingdom, everyone looked to Vasagar as the lighter side of life and the one person who could make the king laugh. His words made Anouk’s eyes roll as she breathed a sigh and lifted a hand up in acknowledgement.

  “I’ve given the task up to Damara to decide… she said that Nabuto guided her thoughts yesterday and I felt she deserved the honour of arranging the first party of the season. I hope you all agree with me on this thought, my sister has needed something to distract her and such experience only bodes well for any potential marriage.” Anouk stated with a sigh and nodded her head. She was lying of course about what her sister had said, but it would please everyone to hear such a thing and calm them all down. It also irked a slightly irritated look from the aged Lord Delmar Kelvis who understood that Anouk was also throwing an insult towards him for his poor teaching of Jarl. The words seemed to appease everyone and there was suddenly a beckoning gesture from the king aimed directly at Anouk.

  Although she was not normally permitted to step to the king’s side at all, Yeruell stepped out to grasp her hand gently, smiling warmly as he led her towards the king’s seat and she dropped completely onto the floor in front of Numart. Numart stepped aside and every one of the noblemen present muttered softly in fascination as the king stepped from the stone throne and waved a hand for the veil to move. The nobles blanched and put their eyes to the ground to avoid looking at the clay death mask where the king’s face was hidden, before his slightly aged hand stretched out to touch Anouk’s head. The moment it happened Molwesa jumped in her seat and nearly darted over to throw her niece out of the way, but Yeruell stood firmly to Anouk’s back, guessing the frustration and making sure the king was not interrupted.

  “Favoured child of the Klangschwert… you prove time and time again the value of your warrior’s heart and bloodline. Let the new season begin a new time where none may ever title you as anything but Klangschwert… Lord Benaga.” At such deep and yet gentle words the king’s hand seemed to stroke the top of Anouk’s head scarf tenderly before pulling his hand back and stepping back. Such favour and kindness caused all the nobles to growl in frustration but for those who had known Anouk for so long, it was relieving to hear the king finally give her the proper title and accept her position amongst the council fully.

  For Anouk it was a hopeful moment of clemency and for her sister a chance for Damara to be given the full praise she deserved.

  Damara however was in a curious situation as she strolled around the deep platform waiting for the Karayan to finish his discussion with Droy and Martum and Lord Selvak’s grandson Terrig. As a member of the Money Collectors, Terrig was expected to be tight with all monetary situations going on within the kingdom and charity events, but he was looking petrified over the introduction to the new general. He was supposed to be discussing where the proceeds of the event were to go to, but his questioning had irritated the new general so much that one growl had made him hide under the desk. Even though Droy was trying to fill out the forms himself and Martum was trying to inform Terrig there would be no transactions, the skinny and short little elf remained trembling under his desk.

  “Hey Karayan, why don’t you go with Damara to the bench over there? It looks out at the crystal caves. You and Damara can talk about the party ideas more whilst I help out with Terrig!” Karani beamed from beside her companion, suddenly leaving Damara to tremble in terror as she launched over to the booth and the Karayan turned on his heels. Strolling towards the low stone bench with Damara swiftly at his side, the pair remained silent as Karani grabbed Terrig and tried to pull him up to talk. Before their arrival to the little booth, Karayan had been talking about the party and then about the council. Learning about the twenty noble families and the two honourable members, that was himself and the Head Healer, Karayan had discussed more about his concerns for the two non-male members of the council. Although he was informed the Head Healer was traditionally the highest position for a female and strictly a female’s position, Skabrat’s situation was explained away easily as a temporary matter but Anouk had been different. Karayan seemed quite astounded by the thoughts around Anouk and he decided to continue the conversation as his assistants tried to solve his situation.

  “You said that your sister has always been an object of… fascination… for the council? What is it they find so offensive; I hope to Amusa it’s not her gender!” Karayan stated as he settled down on one of the many benches that overlooked the beautiful crystal cave. At his mention of the moon goddess Damara could not help herself but smile, she had never heard anyone speak the name of the moon in a good reference to her sister before and Karayan’s curious thoughts fascinated her. Virenheim law stated that only in the direst of situations could a woman inherit her father’s mantle and with even their uncles and all other blood relatives dead, Anouk had taken the position. That would have been accepted at least a little more, had Anouk not been promised this position upon her grandfather’s death rather than given when her father had died. Not to mention the fact she had never been paired up with a noble son to marry and take the position from her.

  “Women in this society have a very important purpose to fight to protect the inner city when no one else can. We guard the future of our people and hold the legends and truths. We tell the stories and teach the language, we go on scout duty and we cook, but our greatest gift is our knowledge of tradition.” Damara stated with a massive grin, beaming at the thought that she had memorised her teachings wonderfully and that she felt proud to say it. In her mind there was no better place for a woman to be then right here where she could be happy and never have to worry about the matters that put Anouk at such odds with the council. Damara knew she wanted nothing more than love and family in life… she did not need to care about anything else and that was the way it should be.

  But as she looked at the expression upon Karayan’s face she almost blanched at his seeming disgust. Sure, he had figured out that something had been up, but he found it unhappy to think that Virenheim was more backward then the surface dwellings for the foreigners made it appear. He found himself looking over his shoulder to where Martum and Droy were busy chatting with Karani, protecting them both and keeping anyone from making ridiculous slanders from Terrig whilst the Karayan spoke with his new and first friend. But in looking at them both and knowing what he did from his brief time with them chaperoning him around his new villa and the kingdom, Karayan felt bad.

  He had the suggestion that Virenheim was probably the kind to disallow any form of love outside of a union whose purpose was in reproduction… meaning it probably did not even understand love. With a grunt he turned toward Damara and noticed her unhappy expression before he nodded his head for her to continue explaining about her sister, rather than discussing the politics of the situation. When Damara knew she had the cue to continue she suddenly found herself pinching her hands together and looking downward at the ground with an uncomfortable grimace upon her face. She had heard before the kind of things Anouk and Ling had said about the treatment of women elsewhere and she assumed that Karayan probably also thought that Damara should look for more in her life than simply children.

  “Well…she doesn’t like the traditional roles we play in society… she wants us to be able to make decisions along with the rest of the council about things like building work and monuments. She wants there to be statues of more than just the kings and lords of the past but the great female teachers and mothers. She gets annoyed too that every woman who writes a book must have it censored if it is a factual piece as it is believed that we are always biased in
our writing to motherhood and lust. In fact, we only really get to write romance works freely as we’re told from the beginning that we should understand the ins and outs of romance because then we can get what we need from reading without dalliances… uh… that sounds a little confusing doesn’t it, maybe I’m not explaining anything right.” In fact, Damara found herself focusing too much on that element in her mind and grimacing as she thought over some of the traditional roles within an engagement and wondered whatever had happened to the cloth with her first cycle on it that, by tradition, had been given to Jarl the moment it had happened!

  “How about I answer that question… or would you rather I tell Anouk what you’ve been talking about and get you into more trouble then you’re already in, Lady Benaga.” The familiar voice made Damara grimace in displeasure and the Karayan turnabout in surprise. He appeared shocked to see a young Deep elf with jet black hair on only one side of his head, massive flickering red eyes and an expression of smugness about him. But though he would have felt enraged to be interrupted so impolitely by a stranger, he noted the look of shock and joy on Damara’s face as she turned about in realisation and did not wish to say anything more into the matter, simply to allow what was to happen to happen.

  “TALON! OH, TALON YOU’RE FREE!” Leaping onto her feet and almost rushing over to embrace him before she noticed the guards that had just released him, Damara strolled to his side. She pressed her hand to her heart and bowed as he mimicked and then they held each other at the shoulder in a gesture of trust and affection. For Damara, Talon’s release was like having a big brother back from the wars and she could not stop herself from smiling, ignoring the progress Karani had made and the form she was carrying over to Karayan.

  “By the luck of Nabuto and a curious plea from Lord Lutas… yes dear Damara I am free!” Talon chuckled gently and yet his words made Damara’s eyebrows knot. She was startled that an enemy to Anouk, who was very unhappy with Talon because it had been one of his own servants the gentleman had married, would have assisted him in the matter. However, she knew that Lutas was, to everyone else, a loving and endearing figure with a sweet smile and a gentle personality. Always willing to look after the students and reduce Tyfuga’s wrath on the poor youngsters, Lutas was a beloved figure and just as Damara had been about to praise him, Talon pinched her shoulders. His eyes were looking passed her towards Karayan as the figure took the papers with some thanks from Karani before stepping over to Talon’s side. “Ah… you would be the Karayan… I’m pleased you’ve been so kind to my charge and kept her safe; I am butler to the Benaga, son of Hunjo Yagurn, Talon Yagurn… I am nicknamed Little Brother by Lord Benaga and wish to be referred to as Talon.”

  “Your introductions seem far too long… you tell me your relation to a noble family, your father’s name and then your name before a nickname and preferred name… it’s difficult for me to grasp completely.” Karayan groaned, smashing his clawed hands to his face and causing Talon’s eyes to boggle in surprise. He watched the strange talons click against the muzzle the figure had placed upon his face and then he gulped when he considered the vicious citron eyes. “I have only one name… Karayan… I have no house I am related to, no father I have known of or anything that would make me greet someone so ridiculously!”

  “Oh Karayan… I did not know you were an orphan… Karani, Martum and Droy are all orphans too… their mothers all died from a womb sickness after birth and their fathers on patrol…. Poor Karayan…” Damara stated gently, and the words made Karani, Martum and Droy all start and hurry over in excitement. They were curious to know his cause as such things were openly spoken of within the society to prove that orphans were not objects of neglect or shame. Karayan though just rubbed his hands upon his temple with a growl of frustration, his whole hope of learning more about Damara’s sister lost in a wave of questions he did not want to answer.

  The little collection attempted to learn whatever they could of the figure but Karayan decided firmly that he did not want to answer any such things. When he turned silent and faced towards the crystals to focus on something else and not lose his patience, the council began to shuffle out of the lonely door in the stone attached to Tirrog’s booth. The moment the lords began to depart everyone present dropped down onto their knees and put their heads to the floor in a proper sign of respect as a section of the lords surrounded the Watchers as they too exited the building, the king somewhere amongst them. It was only then that Anouk revealed herself to be waiting at the end to leave and her eyes locked on to the form of the Karayan.

  For a moment their eyes locked onto one another and their expressions shifted to something of shock, but the moment Lord Yeruell’s hand tapped Anouk’s shoulder the lock was broken, and Anouk turned. Feeling something strange within her that could not be recognised but wished to be, Anouk held her hand to the lord for a moment as she turned back around to look at the Karayan again. But to the surprise of everyone present he was already marching as far away and as quickly as possible; Martum and Droy galloped after him swiftly before Talon shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

  “I think we asked too much.”

  Four: The Party

  The Sun calls our name to lead us above

  But the darkness is screaming, reaching out for our love

  The great ones have walked out to dance in the light

  But we watch the forsaken and prepare for the fight

  The moon shines bright with the light of our father

  Our night-dwelling mother the only glow we will suffer

  Our duty here to protect from deep death

  Whether in cleaning the air or spending our breath

  The sacred stars have kissed all our faces

  We are the magic-blessed of the Elf races

  Their gentle hands caressing our souls

  Willing our hearts when the alarm bell tolls

  As the beasts reach out for the world to swallow

  We shall remain deep down, our hearts filled with sorrow

  The last of the fighters and the first of them too

  We will last to the end times in the shadow of Nabuto

  - “The Choice” the National Anthem of Virenheim

  There was a strange mood the night before the party; a kind of eerie unsettling vibe as if the world was holding its breath in anticipation of some great and terrible arrival. It had lured the life beneath ground back to their homes, even if there was no hourly pattern to the day. The night market and the library were closed and those usually out to clean the paths or tend to the statues seemed hesitant. When such sensations were felt about the city, the Royal Core and Guard were on alert and watching carefully for danger. Dregg-Eaters were the usual cause of such unsettling vibes within the magic and within the many kennelled tunnels the guards paced swiftly back and forth.

  One of these guards was relatively new to the post; a former member of the Royal Core his distaste for the foreigner taking Higatso’s position had encouraged him to join the guards. A week in training had been enough needed to sit along the long length of dark passage from the Black Pit Bridge to the first set of kennels. The Black Pit was a massive shadowy passage burrowed into centuries ago by the Tunnel Worms during a spawning sensation; magic had been used to kill the creatures, but the depth of the tunnel had never been checked. Thoughts to fill it up had proved useless and in recent days there had been suggestions to re-route the overspill of the cess pool, but it was still up for debate. For this lonely looking member of the guard, the night appeared dull!

  That thought was not maintained for long however as his bored pacing along the brown stone edge was broken by the sound of soft feet slapping stone. Immediately he pulled the green hood down from his head, his ears flicking about gently as he tried to figure out the direction of the sound. Each foot fall seemed to echo heavily with an edge to it as though the sound was travelling downward. The guardsman could tell that the sound was coming closer but the Dreggs were not screeching and the only
other passage into this large cave was from the pit. With that realisation, the guard gulped heavily before he put his hands together, muttered before grasping the air and turning his arms to produce a series of white lights. These lights he then ushered toward the lip of the octagonal tunnel the size of an elephant; when they stepped down into the darkness the light they ushered was suddenly extinguished with a soft chuckling sound.

  “By Nabuto no being may enter the city from this passage – you will be executed on the spot!” The guard whimpered fearfully as he forgot about his magic abilities and instead grasped his pike, pointing the intricate blade toward the dark mouth of the tunnel. He was shaking visibly as he felt an unusual and painful sensation thrumming through his body, which he was sure was emanating from the rock. Fearfully he prepared to charge his weapon with his magic, hooking his hands tightly around the length of metal as he began pouring his white coloured aura into the pike. However, no sooner had he pushed the energy into the object to make the blade turn snow-white and whisper with a strange coldness, then a massive tentacle of prickling golden energy launched out and grabbed him from the darkness.

  As his body was swallowed up in the length and he could not snap his weapon against the enemy, his skin began to boil off his body with a scream. A massive golden creature, alike to some horrid mass ripped out of a putrid corpse shuffled out of the tunnel, pouring acidic venom out of a lone orifice into the shadows. The elf within its grasp tried to scream but every moment he remained alive was agony as slowly inches of flesh were peeled away from his bones to leave only his head intact. In his last moments of consciousness and life the guard noticed a cloaked figure stroll out behind the monster, its body hidden save the edge of his face within the cloak. The guard was able to see this and with his last breath he was able to utter a whisper of despair.