Way of Gods

by Rhett C. Bruno

  “I know you don’t trust Valin but… assassinating the Queen Mother. That’s too public for him.”

  “All I know is that the Queen Mother is gone. Someone will pay for it, yet the Breklian Oligarchy will deny involvement as they always have with the Dom Nohzi. Condemn their actions, yet do nothing. All we can do for now is be there for Oleander’s son, our king. There’s a funeral to plan, and we’ll have to secure it. Apparently, against monsters of legend and lore.”

  Lucas sighed. “And I thought everything was getting better.”

  “What a pleasant dream that was.”

  Lucas continued leading Torsten through the tunnels. Groans and mad screams sounded as they passed the hall leading to the dungeons. They were quieter for a time after Redstar fell, but troubles in South Corner had them filled again, especially after the riot. Torsten longed for the simpler days when the men slammed behind bars were simple like Whitney Fierstown, when they were thieves and greedy nobles—men with clear reasons behind their delinquency.

  “Sir Unger!” a courier greeted them as they ascended the stairs into the castle proper.

  “What is it?” Lucas questioned.

  “A galler just arrived with word from Sir Nikserof and the Glass army.”

  “Give it here.” Lucas snatched it and shooed the man away. Wi’th everyone on edge since the attack on Oleander, Torsten didn’t blame him. Deserving or not, when royals started dying, that meant anyone could be a target.

  “What does it say?” Torsten asked.

  Lucas unfolded the letter. Torsten listened as he spread it flat across the castle walls.

  “Sir Nikserof says, uh.” He cleared his throat. “He says ‘the siege is beginning to break. Afhems throughout the Sands have ceased throwing their support behind Muskigo Ayerabi, instead choosing to focus on a new tournament in Latiapur to decide on new afhemate leadership. He says the siege is breaking, and some of Muskigo’s men have begun to sneak out of their fortifications and surrender, both on sea and land.’”

  Torsten’s hand involuntarily balled into fists. A wave of emotion came over him, and once again felt tears welling in the corners of ravaged eyes but knew they weren’t really there. Taking a deep breath, he extended one arm to the wall to steady himself.

  “Sir,” Lucas said, dropping the scroll to grab him. “What’s wrong. Isn’t that good news?”

  It took Torsten a few seconds to gather himself enough to respond. “It is.”

  “Then… I don’t understand. You look like you’ve just seen a—been touched by a ghost.”

  “It’s just, all these times I come close to doubting Iam remains with us, he shows his hand. Oleander freed me so I could defeat Redstar. Now as even her memory fades from this world, news arrives of an end to the war which plagues us. I lose my sight, and he sends me you.”

  “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think Iam has anything to do with me.”

  Torsten followed Lucas’ voice so that he could take the young man by the shoulder. “I may not be the easiest man to serve, but your presence has been a blessing Lucas. Just know that. To have eyes I can trust in a time like this… Pi’s future is bright thanks to men like you. You will make the Order very proud one day.”

  “Sir, I…”

  “You needn’t say anything,” Torsten said. “Circumstance brought us together, but in this castle, friendship is a rare thing.”

  “I know it is likely grief talking, but thank you, Master Unger. I never wanted to be a Shieldsman, but—”

  “Nor did I,” Torsten said, smiling. “Nor did Sir Uriah. But for the best of us, all we can do is answer the call. Now, wear a brave face, my friend. We must bring this good news to the King.”

  “Sir.” Lucas tugged on Torsten’s arm. “There is something I need to tell you.”

  “Can it wait? His Grace can use this news.”

  “I… yes, it can wait. This way.”

  Lucas took Torsten’s arm and led him toward the Great Hall where they could find passage to the tower up to Pi’s private quarters where he’d remained in mourning since his mother returned to the castle.

  They reached the side aisle of the Throne Room where for days, susurrations of all sorts could be heard. The haunting aroma of Oleander blossoms assailed Torsten’s nose. Oleander’s body was presented in the center, tidied for preservation by Abijah Pymer, the new Royal Physician, until the time of her burial. Without any priest’s present, considerations were still being made for how it might be done.

  Torsten was glad he couldn’t see her so stiff and lifeless; her face uncharacteristically calm. Whether driven by passion or rage, her façade had never been one for such banality. He attempted to rush through to avoid the scent of flowers fueling his grief, but the moment they entered the room, Lucas’ grip tightened, and the young man stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” Lucas asked.

  Torsten didn’t have to answer. The moment they and the rattling of their armor stopped, he heard a voice from the other room saying, “She truly was a remarkable woman.”

  “Tehr, what in Iam’s name are you doing here?” Torsten asked. He veered toward the sound of the man’s voice so fast he left Lucas behind.

  “Paying my respects, if that’s all right with you,” Valin said.

  “Respect? That’s a new word, coming from you.”

  “I have great admiration for those who rise from nothing. Her, me… you. We all have a lot in common, don’t we?”

  “We have nothing in common,” Torsten said. “Now, who let you in here?”

  “I did,” a thin voice answered. Torsten heard the clatter of King Pi’s Shieldsman escort approach from the Great Hall.

  “Your Grace,” Lucas said, bowing.

  “Your Grace,” Torsten said as well. “Is everything all right?” He hadn’t heard from the boy since they’d embraced in the Great Hall. Torsten knew he should have checked on him more, but he couldn’t.

  “I merely wished to convey my condolences to Lord Tehr,” Pi said. “I have heard how his friend and supporter Codar gave his life in an attempt to save my mother.”

  Valin shifted his cane aside and fell to his knees out of respect, playing the part of loyal subject as well as ever. Torsten even heard him force a snivel before he spoke. “Your generosity knows no bounds, Your Grace. Codar, he… he fell in love with this kingdom after I took him in. I can’t imagine any other way he would have wanted to go than standing up for it against monsters of his own people’s making.”

  “His own people’s,” Torsten remarked. “Your Grace, we can’t trust outsiders right now.”

  “I know how people felt about my mother, Sir Unger,” Pi said. “Especially in places like South Corner. And still, Codar sacrificed his life for her.”

  “Your mother was merely misunderstood, Your Grace,” Valin said.

  “How dare you speak of her!” Torsten growled. He stomped toward the man, but Pi promptly stopped him.

  “Sir Unger, stop,” he demanded. “We’ve all suffered enough here. Lord Tehr has offered his help in getting justice for my mother.”

  “There is no justice to be gained in fighting shadows,” Torsten said.

  “Codar taught me a great deal about the Dom Nohzi,” Valin said. “About who they are, what they want… where to find them. If we strike fast, we can end their wicked games.”

  “And how do we know he wasn’t one of them? Playing you all along.”

  “Because my friend is in the grave!” Valin snapped in an uncharacteristic display of emotion. He drew a long, beleaguered breath, gathering himself. “Forgive my outburst, Your Grace. Codar long claimed the rumors about the Dom Nohzi being men and women tainted by Elsewhere’s touch were true, and now we know they are. You were there, Torsten. Witnesses say a woman as slight as a handmaiden tossed you like a child’s doll. Those… things that killed your queen were not human.”

  Torsten bit his lip. He desperately wanted to say that the woman wasn’t just any woman either, but he could
n’t. Not with Valin around. He needed to get Pi alone. “They weren’t,” Torsten admitted.

  “Exactly.”

  “So, what—we send another army after them? Your Grace, we spoke of peace, what use would that do to us?”

  “What if they come for His Majesty next?” Valin asked.

  “Someone had to summon them,” Torsten reasoned. “Make a blood deal, or whatever they call it. Certainly, Codar taught you about that. Your Grace, all we need to figure out is who offered Oleander to their heathen gods. Put me in charge of it, and I will not fail you.” Torsten approached the king, him being the one to fall to his knee this time. “I will not fail her.”

  “I trust you more than any other in this castle, Sir Unger,” Pi said. “But you were too close to her to see clearly. Look at what they did to her in our very streets.” Ever since his freedom from Redstar’s curse, Torsten had known Pi to be composed, but his voice began to quake. “In front of everybody…”

  Torsten turned toward the scent of flowers. “I can’t,” he said softly.

  “How can there be peace when my mother could be murdered like that?” Pi said. “Her blood spilled like a goat sacrificed to the Buried Goddess.”

  “Your Grace. Now is not the time to lose yourself in vengeance.” Torsten slid forward on his knees. All the battling of egos, he’d forgotten the very real truth. A troubled boy, not a king, had lost his mother after already losing his father. He slowly extended his hands and wrapped them around the boy’s slender shoulders, feeling them heave.

  “You don’t understand,” he cried. “Your parents left you to the streets. You didn’t care about them; you’ve told me yourself.”

  “There is more to being a parent than blood. Your father was as the same to me. He was all I ever needed.”

  “My father is dead too!” Pi shouted. Torsten released him and backed away. “People think I don’t remember things, but I do. I remember him lying in front of me. I barely recognized him any longer he grew so thin. Now her? Why would Iam take them both so soon… Why!”

  Torsten’s chest tightened upon hearing the heartbreak in the boy’s tone, but he didn’t back away further. “Your Grace, I think you need to rest,” he said softly.

  “No. Every time I show even the smallest hint of something other than complete composure, you people tell me to rest! The time for resting is over. Lord Tehr has promised to help.”

  “Help with what?”

  “A galler has been dispatched to Governor Nantby in Yaolin City,” Valin said. “The finest mercenaries in the region—Glass, Panpingese, the best—will be sent after the Dom Nohzi before they have even a chance to react. It will be Codar’s last gift to this kingdom.”

  “Already?” Torsten said. “Your Grace, I am your Master of Warfare. I should have been consulted. We have no idea who in that order are related to Breklian nobility. We could ignite another war.”

  “Good,” Pi whimpered.

  “Good? Your Grace, I want justice for your mother as much as anybody, but we need to focus our efforts on ending the war in the Black Sands! I only just received word that Muskigo is on the brink of defeat. We can’t afford—”

  “I have agreed to pay for the campaign,” Valin said. “Reparations of South Corner will need to slow, but the people will understand. A cowardly act such as this can’t go unpunished.”

  “Oleander died because of rioters from South Corner,” Torsten said.

  “Misguided fools. Now they will see—”

  “My mother died because all she had to protect her was you,” Pi said, so softly it was as if his mouth merely formed the consonants. Torsten strained to hear him, but when he did it felt like he’d been stabbed through the chest.

  “Now, now, Your Grace,” Valin said. “Codar was trained by the finest swordsman in his lands, and even he fell. Iam’s enemies are strong, but now we must be stronger. We must stand together.”

  “Together?” Torsten rose and stalked in the direction of Valin. “There is no together. Pay for what you will. Lie to our King, but all you’ll ever be is a gangster.”

  “Actually,” The way he said the word… Torsten could practically see the smirk spread across his gaunt face. “It has been decided that I will soon be ennobled and sworn in under the Eye of Iam as the Kingdom’s Master of Coin. All I’ve ever wanted is to serve my kingdom, and now my wealth can be the Crown’s wealth. No strings attached.”

  If there were a blade in Torsten’s chest, now it felt as if it were twisting. “Your Grace, is that true?”

  “Lord Tehr has proven his love for this kingdom, and his skill at handling autlas,” Pi said. “He grew up here in Yarrington, not away from it like Yuri Darkings. And thanks to him, we have a chance at finding the Caleef before our enemies do, at fixing our city. At vengeance for my mother.”

  “Your Grace, he can’t be trusted!” Torsten shouted.

  “I trust him. I do. I discussed the idea with Lord Jolly this morning, and he agreed that attacking the Dom Nohzi was crucial in proving our strength. That with Lord Tehr unhindered by who owes what, we can move fast.”

  “I should have been consulted,” Torsten resigned.

  “We sent Sir Mulliner for you, and he said you dismissed him.”

  Torsten felt foolish. He’d been so deep in research, he barely remembered Mulliner trying to pull him from his room. The only reason he went to visit Liam’s grave was that his research brought him to a passage about a Black Sands assassination attempt on the great king. The very attempt which Torsten had incidentally thwarted as a boy, earning him a place as a King’s Shield squire upon Liam’s recommendation.

  I should have been with Pi. But even being near him had made Torsten feel like more of a failure. And his oversight had allowed more whispers into Pi’s ear from unworthy men.

  “Your Grace, please—” Torsten began before Pi interrupted him.

  “Stop. Nothing can be done without gold. Father taught me that, and we lose more and more every day. We need Lord Tehr who has been nothing less than gracious, and if you can’t accept that, then perhaps there is no longer a place for you here.”

  Torsten could hardly speak. His throat felt like it was closing off.

  “Torsten, you’re grieving,” Valin said. “We all are. This kingdom is lesser without you here. I know we’ve had our differences, but please, find peace with your loss and then together, we can do great things.”

  Torsten couldn’t contain himself any longer.

  “What is your game, you wretch!” he roared. “You did this somehow, didn’t you? What do you want with him?”

  “Sir Unger, you will calm down this instant!” Pi ordered.

  Torsten didn’t answer. Before he knew it, he was stomping toward Valin and then felt strong hands on his back and arms.

  “Sir Unger,” Sir Mulliner said. “Please.” Torsten was transported back to that day outside of Winde Port when Redstar drove him to kill one of his own men, and Sir Mulliner had to stop him. His whole body went weak, and he staggered back. Lucas was there to keep him from tripping over Oleander’s funeral arrangement, but not before he felt a few of her flowers crunch beneath his boot.

  “Sir Unger, you—” Pi began before Valin cut him off.

  “It’s all right, Your Grace.” Valin cleared his throat. “None of us are thinking clearly. No man in this world cares for the Glass like Sir Unger here. I know that with all my heart. So, do you. This loss has been hard on both of you. Trust me, I know what it’s like to lose both parents.”

  “Is every word out of your mouth a lie?” Torsten said. “Everyone knows you grew up the bastard son of some harlot you didn’t know.”

  “Loss is loss, no matter the circumstance,” Valin said. “Now, I may not be formally on the Royal Council under the light of Iam, but I think there’s no better place for me to start than to help plan a funeral for the Queen. Something quaint and inexpensive, to help the people remember her in a fairer light. I have some ideas for the Master of Masons for a
statue to add to the courtyard in which she and Codar died as well.”

  “I think she’d like that,” Pi said. “Would you mind discussing it in my quarters? I can’t smell these flowers any longer.”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” Valin said. “Sir Unger, differences aside, will you be joining us? If I’m certain of anything, it’s that the Queen would have wanted you there at the end.”

  “I—I think I should get some rest, actually. I haven’t slept since… Your Grace, if I could have stopped them…”

  “I know, Sir Unger,” Pi said, then sniveled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said. You saved my life, saved this kingdom, and I am forever indebted. Mother cared for you. I should have consulted with you on moving against her assassins, but I understand you want answers more than anyone. With Lord Tehr’s help, we can get them ourselves.”

  “And we shall, Your Grace,” Valin said. “First, we bid farewell to the fallen. Then, we discover why they fell and make sure it never happens again. Now, after you.” Pi stepped by him, and Valin slithered closer to whisper to Torsten. “And Sir Unger, my offer remains. The care of the Vineyard is yours, whenever you might need it.” He clacked away before Torsten could reply.

  “Get a hold of yourself, Torsten,” Sir Mulliner said after Valin, and the King moved on. “This is why Shieldsmen should leave their swords in their pants.”

  Mulliner marched by, along with a few other Shieldsmen, to escort Pi back to his quarters. Valin clicked along behind them, seeming like he was purposefully tapping his cane harder than necessary as a taunt.

  “Ah, I forgot to tell you, Your Grace,” Valin said on their way out of the room. “I was able to speak to a friend at Hornsheim. They paused deliberations to send a member of the priesthood to help guide Oleander’s soul to the light. They’re using their fastest horse. I know the Crown didn’t wish to make such a request and sour relations.”

  “Thank you, Lord Tehr,” Pi said, now distant. “This kingdom owes you a great deal already.”

  “Nonsense, Your Grace. If I were born anywhere else, I’d have died on the streets without family, without a home, and without purpose.”