by Jeramy Goble
There were hundreds of people going about their business. Jularra stood and watched as warmly-wrapped residents hurried about in the open walking areas, laughing and talking about the Yubik issues of the day. Infrequently-placed braziers provided a source of public heat; the resulting smoke escaped through naturally occurring crevasses and artificial vents carved into the ceiling.
Jularra made no effort to disguise her surprise and admiration. She turned to the Yubik captain and was met with a proud smile.
“This way,” their guide said.
Jularra saw Wona and Vischuno looking equally astounded as the group resumed their journey. Walking further into the city, more of the indigenous Yubik caught sight of the outsiders and slowed to glare or point. Whispers and hints of vulgarities followed their progress.
Soon, Jularra's company found themselves in wide, meandering corridors. Children bundled in furs raced through these underground streets. Artisans carved wooden and ivory figurines, while leatherworkers fashioned clothing and armor.
Engineering and architectural ingenuity dotted the city at every turn. Lifts of massive blocks of ice, rope and pulleys helped people move between levels, while an elaborate transport system of sinew and buckets helped move goods between buildings. The city didn’t appear to be lacking. What Jularra initially thought would be a humble series of rooms, crudely carved with little use, was in fact a massive complex hidden to the outside world, with significant possibility which the Acorilinians had only seen preliminary hints of. And though Jularra had no ill intentions towards the Yubik, she couldn’t help but consider just how challenging a siege against the glacier would be.
The city sprawled on forever. Just when Jularra thought the trek would never end, they made a turn at one of the massive ice pillars. A short distance ahead was a great entrance, secluded, and different from the rest of the city in that the path to it was walled off, with only a single approach.
The floor of the approach was lined with hexagonal etchings, carved deep into the ground. Within the hexagons were flowing patterns—each one unique—which complemented the symmetrical shapes beautifully. The entrance to the grand chamber itself was an imposing wall, sheared inward so that it loomed impressively over any who approached.
The Acorilinians marched down the approach with their escorts and passed over the threshold. The group crossed a small foyer before entering the most ornate room they had seen since entering the glacier.
The new chamber sprawled up and out. Countless carvings decorated the walls, a wealth of wood in furniture and decorative embellishments.
A man sat at a wooden table, his back to the entrance. He was preparing to turn the page of a book when the Yubik captain stepped over to him and leaned in to whisper.
The man sitting at the table dogeared his book and stood up. He held a finger up at a group of Yubik standing along a wall, who scurried away. Then he approached Jularra.
“It’s been almost twenty years since you last set foot in Yubik territory.”
“Yes,” Jularra said, stoic. “The signing of the Treaty of Itirriok.”
“Mmm,” the man said, nodding. The group of Yubik he had signaled to returned with earthenware pots and cups. He poured himself some tea before the servants approached Jularra.
“I’m what, a year younger than you?” he wondered, straining slightly to confirm his recollection. “I believe you were around seven? So, I was six.”
Jularra smiled. “Annutsik,” she began. He held up his cup in acknowledgment.
“I heard rumors,” Jularra continued, carefully selecting her language, “that you had risen to power.”
“My father passed on. About eight years ago now.”
“It saddens me to hear that.” She bowed her head sincerely.
Annutsik returned the gesture, then sipped his tea. “Of course, you would have known that if you had made any effort to communicate with us before now.”
You could have reached out, too, Jularra refrained from saying.
“So, before we continue…” His voice changed; he spoke faster, and with bite. “What gave you the impression that an incursion into our lands, without so much as a request or announcement, would be allowed, or excused after the fact?”
Despite his reprimand echoing through the cavernous room, he stood calmly, holding his tea.
The heightened tension spiked Jularra’s adrenaline, but she kept it in check. She forced a sharp sigh to dull any potential hostility.
“I apologize unconditionally for the intrusion. My goal was indeed to speak with you, and not simply pass through in the hopes of going unnoticed. I couldn’t risk any courier or messenger being intercepted. I have no ulterior motives, I assure you.”
“Do not begin our first interaction in decades with a lie!” Annutsik slapped his cup down.
“I am not lying!” Jularra stepped forward and allowed her own volume to rival Annutsik’s. Their escort’s captain placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, poised to strike. Jularra fell back to her original position.
“I need to travel through Yubik," she said, more calmly, "and thought it would be a perfect excuse to establish an active dialogue with the Yubik people.”
Annutsik erupted into laughter. “I am not an idiot! You do need something!”
Jularra sighed and looked away. “I truly do apologize for intruding without your consent. And I hope that the Treaty speaks to my regard for you and your people. But there is precious little time for what I need to accomplish, so I would implore you to either let us pass, or get on with denying our request so we can find another path.”
Annutsik sniffed and returned to his tea, motioning for a refill.
“What is so urgent that you need to travel so quickly?”
His question startled Jularra, who'd been expecting a flat refusal and nothing more. She considered how much detail to go into, then overcame her own hesitance and said, “You’re aware of the circumstances surrounding my country’s rule, and how queens succeed one another?”
He nodded.
“It pertains to that.”
Annutsik’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “We have always understood it to be just a matter of a queen’s child going through some kind of ceremony to ascend to your throne.”
“That’s essentially how it’s been ever since the Wars of Expansion, yes,” she confirmed.
“Then why the need to travel abroad through other sovereign nations?”
Uncomfortable, Jularra looked to Vischuno and Wona in a silent plea for assistance. But then it struck her. She had a perfectly plausible answer. She could even use her hesitance to help sell it.
“The time is approaching for me to provide a successor, and I’m… having trouble… conceiving.” It was an embarrassing lie, but Jularra felt it worth it to keep the truth concealed.
Annutsik closed his eyes and lifted his head as he took a deep breath. He smiled slightly in recognition of what he clearly thought was the obviousness of her statement.
“I see,” he said. “I see.”
Jularra breathed easier. The Yubik captain retreated a few steps. Had she finally broken through to Annutsik?
“Your barren womb is of no concern to the Yubik,” he barked. He waved angrily at his captain. “Get them out of here, and send them home. See to it that they march straight back to the border.”
The room spun into a frenzy of activity. Yubik guards swarmed in on the Acorilinians and began to shove them toward the door.
“How dare you think you can use us for something so selfish after decades of silence! Just because you deigned to give back the lands you stole does not ingratiate you or your people with us!”
Fury surged up inside Jularra. “Ha!" she shouted. "I expected as much!”
The Yubik continued to herd her guards towards the room’s exit. Jularra dodged them for as long as she could and shouted again at Annutsik.
“Have fun ruling from your dungeon of ice! But beware: we can take these lands back just as easily a
s we returned them!”
“Stop!” Annutsik bellowed. He drew his sword and stormed toward Jularra. His eyes were wide and hate-filled. His mouth twitched with suppressed brutality.
Jularra jerked and shifted in the tight grasp of two Yubik guards.
“Oh, we can resolve this here and now,” Annutsik said through a twisted grin. “I only need to puncture your throat here and just keep on pushing.”
He brought the tip of his blade up to Jularra’s throat.
“Sire! Killing her would not be prudent,” the captain hissed. Annutsik didn’t flinch and kept his sword trained on Jularra’s throat.
“I lied to you,” Jularra whispered.
“About what?” Annutsik's face contorted with annoyance.
“About why I need to go east so urgently.”
Annutsik lowered his sword from her neck.
“Tell me what you’re really up to,” he growled, “or I’ll make you watch as I cut the limbs from each of your warriors before taking their heads. I’ll kill you last, and take as many breaks as I need to until I’m through.”
Jularra strained forward against the men holding her. “I thought we… would have a chance to speak alone,” she grunted.
He seemed to consider her for moment. Then his face relaxed. The heaving of his chest slowed. Annutsik wiped his sweaty forehead and signaled for his guards to let go of Jularra. When they did, she toppled forward onto one knee. Wona, Vischuno, and the rest of her guard were also let go. Jularra rose and walked towards Annutsik.
Vischuno started to follow. “Queen Jularra,” he began.
She held up her hand and shook her head, halting him and his concern.
Jularra approached Annutsik, and then passed him. He turned to follow her deeper into the room, away from the others. She knew she had him at this point. He was intrigued by the drama, the secrecy, and the feigned desperation in needing to lie. She didn’t want to tell him the truth, but she was out of options and time. Perhaps the confidence would buy her a favor down the road, if needed.
Reaching the shadows at the far end of the room, she rubbed her eyes and sighed. Then she looked to her periphery to make sure they were alone—and made sure Annutsik saw her check. His hands were on his hips as he seethed with a combination of suspicion and intrigue, so Jularra spoke quickly.
“While I can understand your apathy regarding my inability to conceive, that isn’t the problem, nor is it the reason I’m traveling east.”
Annutsik stared at her with dead eyes. “Out with it, Jularra.”
“I’m hoping to secure a means to destroy the Voidwarden and free my people from its influence.”
Annutsik held his cold stare while Jularra bit her lip. She reciprocated his stare as best she could, hoping he would accept her reasoning.
He turned away from her, and for several minutes lost himself in the icy scenes carved into the wall far across the room.
“The Voidwarden? The creature… your pact? Why do you think I would care about that?” he asked eventually.
“Because if I’m successful, I will have years more on the throne as a result. Years in which I will be able to guarantee an extremely lucrative arrangement between our people.”
Annutsik chuckled and meandered away from her. Jularra began spinning a web of possible reactions to his reaction to her proposal.
If he agrees, charm him a bit more and move on.
If he disagrees, lie and move on. It can be dealt with later.
If he—
Annutsik turned back to her.
“I’ll agree—on one condition,” he said.
Jularra extended her hand, inviting his counter.
“I want Brinnock.”
Fucking Brinnock? Her vision blurred with rage.
Calm, calm, calm. She forced a bitter chuckle.
“Annutsik,” she started calmly, “we just took Brinnock.” Her voice was flat, with a hint of condescension.
“I don’t care,” he replied. “Those pieces of shit raided us countless times. I want their city!”
Jularra fought not to mirror Annutsik’s rising voice. "I won’t relinquish what we just won. I need that food for my people!”
Annutsik stepped towards her.
“Keep the food, and give me the city!”
“No! We need their land!” she snarled back. “Their fields!”
Annutsik took a moment to think, but kept his eyes trained on Jularra.
“Have you taken all of Torguria yet?”
He wants another part of it. Give it to him. Whatever he wants. But keep Brinnock.
“We’re fairly certain we neutralized the majority of their forces, but there are some small remnants towards the borders.”
“Give me those lands. I’ll clean them out and rid them of any threats, but give me those border regions.”
Passage allowed, and I keep Brinnock?
There was not enough time to bicker any longer. Besides, she'd already made up her mind. She paced a while to help sell some reluctance, but after a suitable interval she stopped, sighed, and looked at Annutsik.
“Agreed.”
Fourteen
The escort that accompanied the Acorilinians to the eastern Yubik border was much smaller than that which had brought them in. Jularra had little doubt that their objective this time was to simply ensure they left Yubik; the few warriors that traveled with them offered little in the way of pleasantries or concern for their travels. After a few days' ride, Jularra and her people were sent off in a manner consistent with the rest of their interactions with the Yubik.
“The Hignriten border is at the base of those hills,” one of the escorts grunted. “Messyleio isn’t far.”
“How far?” Wona sought to clarify. The escort ignored her.
“Please be sure to announce any future visits to Yubik.” The guard was already turning his horse before he finished speaking.
Vischuno slung all three hands up to his forehead in a silly salute.
“A pleasure riding with you!” he hollered.
The Yubik didn’t entertain the jibe. They simply rode away.
The wind was merciless as the Acorilinians resumed their journey east. Jularra and the others shifted in their bundles of fur, but the biting cold teethed on their fingertips and the ends of their noses. After a few miles, they came to rest atop a hill, and looked down on the outskirts of a city Jularra felt reasonably assured was Messyleio. It spilled out from behind the forest. Jularra silently cursed the tease of warmth from the flickering torchlight in the city below while hoping at least some of those from the scouting group survived the landslide.
Others were less silent.
“I fucking hope they show up soon,” Wona whined. The insulating layers around her jaw muffled her words slightly.
Vischuno pulled his own clump of clothing away from his mouth to answer.
“If any survived,” he began, with a solemn note of concern, “the plan was for them to come at sundown.”
Wona scoffed at her lapse in consideration. “Well, yes. I’m trying to stay optimistic.”
“Shh. It can’t be much longer,” Jularra said over her shoulder. “We’ll warm up when we get down there.”
Vischuno leaned forward in his saddle.
“Can’t you just… whip up a fire, or something?”
Jularra sighed.
“No. I don’t want to draw any attention to our location until we’ve heard from the scouts. Now: shh. Freeze quietly, please.”
Wona grumbled something at Vischuno, and Jularra turned to scowl at them both.
Dusk continued creeping to blackness. The wind remained steady, but felt worse with the retreating light’s decreasing temperatures. Some of the accompanying Bedrock took turns to dismount, jogging or bouncing in place to stay warm. Jularra was about to chastise them for the noise their armor was making, but was suddenly distracted.
“There!” Wona blurted. The bundled clothing around her face failed to dampen her exclamation.
Far below Jularra’s group, at the base of the hill, a clump of dancing fire rounded the edge of the nearby forest. Jularra stopped shivering long enough to focus on the approaching figures. Once her mind realized it would be several minutes until the distant riders reached them, the shivering started up again.
Wona sidestepped her horse closer to Vischuno's.
“How many were we expecting, again?” she asked.
Vischuno deferred to one of the original scout group, who turned to face them.
“I’m not sure how many might have made it through,” he said. “I’ll just be glad to see any of them.”
“If these are our people,” Jularra warned.
“Right,” Wona agreed. “I just don’t like a swarm of strangers riding out of the city all at once.”
The riders climbed the hill. Jularra and her group could hear the horses’ hooves and the jingling of armor.
“Be on your guard,” Jularra ordered.
The riders crested the top of the hill. Following her own advice, she placed her hand on her sword as the riders approached. Just as her fingers wrapped around the hilt, a crude imitation of a whip-poor-will cut through the wind.
Denyon reciprocated the whistle.
“It’s them!” Jularra whispered. She reached out to her side and patted the air. The group’s tension released.
Two Bedrock and two Spire, all four plainly clothed, rode up in front of their queen. Denyon reached for his surviving friends, who leaned in their saddles to accept his relieved embrace.
“Queen Jularra,” one of the women greeted as she bowed her head.
“Filona! How many? How many made it?” Denyon asked desperately.
The newly-arrived group exchanged heavy glances.
“We lost seventeen,” Filona said.
“Seventeen?” Wona gasped.
Jularra panned aimlessly around the area, the air emptying from her chest in a hiss.