"Your message nearly gave me a heart attack," said Caje as he landed and walked to his brother. His face was pink and damp from exertion, but he otherwise looked well. He tucked his huge wings away. He'd flown all night and most of the day before, with only a brief rest in Maticaw, the halfway point. Caje was not the fastest flier, but he was strong and tireless.
"Sorry about that. Weird Elven magic, it was the fastest way to get a hold of you."
"Eohne's magic?"
Toth nodded. "And thank goodness for it." Toth settled himself on a rock near the stream and waved his brother over.
"What's so important that you had me rushing out without any time to prepare, leaving Chayla in charge?"
"She must love that," Toth said with a half-smile.
"Woman's a tyrant," Caje grunted as he sat beside his brother. "Whatever is going on, I hope it won't take long, or we'll be going back to clean up corpses——and not the harpy kind."
"There's a chance we may not have to go back."
The big Nycht turned in surprise. "What are you talking about?"
Toth explained to Caje what had transpired between he and Balroc two days before. His brother listened silently, but when it came to telling him about the vote, the Nycht frowned and shook his head.
"Corrupt to the core," he muttered. "How do you know he was telling you the truth?"
"I asked Mareya. She confirmed it."
Caje made a sound in the back of his throat. "She would know. She probably sees things that would make our teeth crack in anger."
"Yes."
"So, you trust this Arpak? This Balroc?"
"Oddly, I think I do." Toth was as surprised by this as Caje was. "Either way, this has been the only opportunity I have ever seen to really change things."
"And maybe to come home," added Caje quietly.
The brothers shared a look. They hid it well from their people, never wanting to be seen complaining about anything, but life in The Conca was uncomfortable, primitive, and isolated. They'd left to make a statement that not all Nychts were satisfied being treated as second-class citizens, and that Nycht power would be missed.
At the time, they'd been hoping for the story of their defection to be a catalyst for changes in policy; instead they'd become heroes to the Nycht citizens of Rodania, and turncoats to the Arpaks. No laws were broken. It wasn't illegal to leave Rodania, but when two Nychts round up sixty of the strongest and most capable, and leave the city in the light of day, walking off their jobs and, in some cases, leaving family behind, it sent a prickly message.
The Rodanian government had chafed, but in the end, it was a gamble that failed. Now it was a decision they couldn't reverse without appearing weak, so they'd stayed away. Life in The Conca was accepted; babies had been born there, and the rebel group had flourished. But for Toth and Caje, whose family was still in Rodania, it had never really been home. Rodania was a city custom-built for its winged citizens; there was nowhere else on Oriceran like it, not for Strix.
"I can't do it without you," said Toth. "If you say no, then I'll say no."
"I'd give us less than five percent chance of success."
"Against the harpies? Or with the vote?"
"Harpies," Caje scoffed, "we could exterminate those abominations in a matter of weeks, if we had the resources." His look darkened. "I'm talking about the Council. A more crooked batch of Arpaks I never saw."
"We don't know that any more," argued Toth. "We've been gone for a decade. Half the Council are Arpaks we don't know. Balroc said three would vote for us and one is undecided. That's nearly half." He blinked and shook his head. "Wait, why am I the one defending them? You're the one who goes on about change only being a matter of time."
Caje was staring off into the bubbling water. "Every one hundred years," he muttered. He broke the stare and pierced his brother with a look. "If we lose, we go back to The Conca?"
"If the humans will take us back."
"They'll take us. They're too scared not to."
"You'll have to talk to them." Toth was referring to their group of Nychts, who knew nothing of the potential life change hurtling their way.
Caje nodded. "If Chayla agrees, the rest of them will too. And to be honest, I wouldn't want to fight a slew of harpies without her anyway."
"So, you're saying yes?"
"Yes, with conditions," Caje held up a meaty finger. "We do it our way. And no conscription is the first condition. I don't want any soldiers who don't want to be there."
Toth nodded, "Agreed." The two brothers bent their heads together and began to make their list of conditions.
•••
Early the following morning, Toth winged his way back to Balroc's residence on Upper Rodania. The sky was gray and overcast, with a small, golden glow making every effort to break through. There was an unusual nip to the air, and Toth tucked his hands under his arms as he flew to keep them warm. In the breast pocket of his armor was the list of needs and the conditions of their acceptance.
He landed on the terrace with silent feet. His wings closed and warmed the muscles of his back. He blew out a breath and saw it hang in the air before his face.
"Hello? Miss?" He peered between the marble columns, looking for the girl who greeted him, but there was no one in sight. He called out a second time and padded silently between the columns to the inner rooms. His ears perked at the sound of voices emanating from a room in the bowels of the house.
He froze.
"You did not secure my permission before pursuing this foolishness, Balroc." The voice was deep, resonant, and unfamiliar. Whoever it was, they were authoritative and deeply unhappy.
"I don't need your permission," answered Balroc patiently. "I have secured permission from the Council, as well as your father."
The other voice gave a sarcastic snort. "My father is in no shape to give his permission for anything; he is incompetent, pathetic."
Toth took a silent step back. The voice had to belong to the prince.
This time, Balroc's words were filmed with ice. "I understand that he is still lucid and capable of rational thought. Your father is not well, but at least he puts his own ambition second to what is good for Rodania."
"Watch your words, Councilman."
There was a silence. Toth thought about calling out again to alert the Arpaks to his presence. He took another step back, unsure of what to do.
"A Nycht army cannot be trusted," the prince spoke again.
Toth froze.
"Least of all those fools from The Conca," the voice continued. "Your lunacy will put Rodania at even greater risk. They are as good as traitors to the crown."
"They committed no act of treason," Balroc replied. There was the sound of something––a cup or goblet––being set down on a table. "They made a political statement, one you cannot possibly blame them for. And their absence was keenly felt by the businessmen of Rodania, even if the citizens couldn't see it. Now…" Balroc's voice took on additional strength. "Their absence affects everyone."
"We don't need them," growled the prince. "I'll agree with your motion to start an army, but an Arpak army will be more than suitable.”
Balroc began to laugh and then made an effort to cut it off. "And who would we call to the sword, my prince? The sons of our soft aristocracy? Our philosophers? Our lawyers and doctors?"
"Our Couriers are more fierce than any Nycht could be. They've been trained to deal with aerial threats like these harpy monsters."
"Oh yes, all twenty-five of them. And if they're fighting, all communication halts, which means trade halts."
"They could have handled that last attack if they'd all been here, prepared and ready to go."
"And what happens when we are attacked by a larger horde? We don't know how many harpies there are, or how fast they are multiplying."
There was silence in response to this.
Emboldened, Balroc's voice continued. "You know it is only a matter of time. The Elves cannot fix the s
ecurity breach overnight; they've admitted they don't know the source of the problem yet. The harpies know we are vulnerable now. You said it yourself, they like the flavor of Strix flesh. Rodania is a buffet for them. Ninfa's team has reported the species of dragon the harpies share blood with."
Toth cocked his head. The name Ninfa was familiar. She was also a member of the Council, and must have been for some time, if he could recall her.
"Tchielis vulgaris, so what?"
There were footsteps and the sound of pages being flipped. Balroc spoke as though reading aloud from some source. “The Northern species T.vulgaris is defined not only by their size, ferocity, and appetite but also by the phenomenon designated by human scientist Marcus Sherrer, as a 'superconsciousness', a group-thinking mentality driven by a pack alpha. Packs have been recorded as small as a pair, but have also been witnessed as large as a dozen. The telepathic nature of these creatures makes them efficient group hunters. They currently tyrannize the Northern territories." The book was closed. "Can you not see, my Prince, that we need our Nychts back most desperately?"
"And what have you promised them in exchange for their service?"
"Wages, lodging. It's only fair to care for those who are willing to lay down their lives for our nation."
"They'll be wanting more than that soon enough, the cretinous brutes."
"Perhaps its time to consider–—"
"Never!" The prince cut off the councilman mid-speech.
Toth found himself in a great internal wrestling match. Unable to move, he took only shallow breaths. More light was being shed on the state of things, and he was loath to reveal himself.
"Nychts have their uses, even I can admit that. Their labor powers the great economy of Rodania. But, Balroc," the prince's voice softened, "they are not equipped to do more than this. The poor creatures are nocturnal; we have already weakened them by forcing them to adapt to our rhythms."
"On this, we agree, my Prince. How powerful would they become if we allowed them to do what is in their nature to do? Imagine a Rodania that never sleeps. A Council of Arpaks to rule the day, and a Council of Nychts to rule the night."
"This is lunacy," the prince barked.
"Or even better," Balroc forged onward, "a Council in which both are represented equally so that, through cooperation, we can make our nation one of the most advanced on Oriceran. I believe that by empowering Nychts, we can empower Rodania to levels we've not seen before."
"We cannot achieve our goals by handing authority over to a bunch of dull-witted grunts."
"Actually, Ninfa's research has already proven that there is no inferiority in a Nycht’s brain or physiology. It's true they have some physical advantages over us, but it is not true that we have any intellectual advantage over them."
"All the more reason not to empower them. The moment we give them equality, they will use it against us."
"Forgive me, but this is antiquated thinking."
"No," Prince Diruk barked. "It is too late for this, Councilman. Maybe at one time we had an opportunity to repair the damage, but we have kept them in their place for far too long. There is too much resentment, too much bitterness. Do not make this mistake. I forbid it."
"You cannot. The Council has already given their permission, as has your father."
"My father will be dead soon," the prince seethed. "Do not make an enemy of me, Councilman."
"I have spoken to Juer; there is hope for the King. He is ill, but he is not an old man. Juer has deployed every resource accessible to him to find a cure." Balroc's voice was soft in the way a pelt of some predatory animal might be soft, cloaking secret teeth.
Toth's heart warmed to the councilman. As he listened to this political banter, his will galvanized.
This pigheaded young prince is in line for the throne? Under his rule, the Nychts will have no hope of ever freeing themselves of Arpak oppression. Prince Diruk's fears revealed enough about his nature to chill Toth's blood. He had even admitted that what they were doing to the Nychts was wrong, but had no intention of ever righting it.
"We want the same thing," Balroc went on. "To protect Rodania, to strengthen her position, and to set her up for future growth."
"Our goals might be the same, but our methods differ greatly. When I am king, I will ensure that my Council is in all matters aligned with me. Better yet, I will work to bring back the autocracy that made us great nearly a millennium ago. Too many leaders means dissension. It makes Rodania weak."
Balroc did not answer this, and Toth wondered what kind of nonverbal communication has passed between the councilman and the prince.
"When the harpy threat is put down, you'll return the Nycht captains to their place. Do not make the mistake of trusting them." Footsteps echoed down a hall.
Toth stood his ground. He had been eavesdropping, but he hadn't come here intending to do so. He wouldn't hide like he was guilty. The Nycht mercenary crossed his arms and waited.
Prince Diruk strode into the hall of columns. He was tall and statuesque, and his feathers glinted as though dusted with gold powder. His skin was pale and freckled, not unlike Caje's, and hair so blonde it was nearly white caught the firelight thrown by the torches that crackled from the pillars. Dark blue eyes fell on Toth and he did not look away. The two Strix were matched in height and breadth, but Toth had all the presence of a killer, while Diruk embodied the arrogance of the entitled.
Prince Diruk's stride hitched momentarily, the only change that gave away his surprise. He walked up to Toth and stopped in front of him. The Strix stood eye to eye.
"So you're the Nycht traitor who has come licking power from Balroc's boots."
Toth held the prince's gaze. "And you're the tyrant next-in-line. I daresay Rodania needs protection more from you than any harpy threat."
"You snake," the prince seethed, stepping so close to Toth the Nycht could smell the spices the Prince must roll in every morning. "You filthy Nycht opportunist. You stink worse than any harpy. Your kind is the scourge that makes Rodania weak." He raised a long finger and jammed it into Toth's breastbone. "When I am king, not only will there be no Nycht army, there will be no Nycht citizens."
"Surely our new captain deserves better treatment than threats and insults." Balroc's voice cut through the prince's stream of bile.
Neither the prince nor Toth looked away. Their eyes bored into one another’s skull.
"Come now." The councilman approached and put a hand on the prince's arm. "We have a much more imminent threat to concern ourselves with."
The prince shook off Balroc's hand and stepped back. His face twisted with cruelty and disdain, and his mouth worked. For a moment, Toth thought the prince was going to spit on him.
Prince Diruk turned on his heel, striding from the room of columns. His large golden wings shivered and snapped open as he disappeared behind the marble. The sound of him winging away filled the silence.
"Well," Balroc exhaled, "that was an exciting start to my morning. Please," he gestured toward the hall. "I am eager to hear what you have to say. I hope you will not allow our young prince's words to daunt you."
"Please tell me there is a way Rodania can avoid being ruled by that despot?" Toth asked as he and Balroc walked down a hall lined with paintings. They entered a library, warm from a crackling fire, with tall ceilings and huge, crammed bookcases.
"Alas, he will sit on the throne; the queen had no other children. It is only a matter of time." Balroc poured water from a pitcher and handed Toth a glass before pouring one for himself. "Which is why our move must succeed, and sooner rather than later. If we cannot defeat the harpies before the vote, or if the King dies before the vote takes place…well," Balroc shrugged. "I don't know about you, but I'll be looking for a nice little villa in Maticaw or Operyn."
Toth frowned. Of his eleven siblings, nine of them still lived in Rodania. They had children; their lives were rooted here. They were subject to injustice, but they lived well. They had good food and, up unt
il recently, safety too. If Prince Diruk had his way, his siblings and their children would become refugees.
"So, Toth." Balroc took a seat. "What requests do you have for me? Will you join me in this great ugly game? Are you ready to make a play for Rodania's future?"
Toth sat and faced his unexpected ally. He retrieved the parchment of needs from his breast pocket. "For Rodania's future."
And for my family, the Nycht added silently.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘COMBATANTS! NOW IS YOUR TIME!
Rodania Needs Defenders & Protectors. Is that You? Are you sick of feeling vulnerable to attack? Would you like to make your family feel safe? Do you think it’s time to bring back a Rodanian military? Join the famous mercenaries Toth & Caje Sazak in the battle for freedom from fear!’
Jordan snatched the flier from the lamppost down the street from Juer's library. She was on her way there to do dragon research. Her eyes bulged at the names ‘Toth & Caje,’ written in large, screaming capital letters.
"Sazak," she said to herself.
She hadn’t seen the Nycht since several nights before, when he'd left for the mysterious meeting with a promise that he'd come say goodbye before he left Rodania. Sol told her he'd dropped by the apartment, but he'd been in a hurry and left without seeing her.
Jordan folded the page and crammed it in the small pocket in the front of her jacket. She strode towards Juer's place, but her mind was on anything but dragon research.
Where is he now? If the poster is to be trusted, Caje is in town, as well. Have other Nychts come back from The Conca to defend their homeland? Where is Toth living? Was the poster Toth's idea?
She couldn't imagine Toth giving his permission to dub himself a 'famous mercenary'; he didn't even like it when other Nychts gave him accolades for his daring move.
Jordan made a decision. She'd spend an hour doing research and then go find Toth. The poster directed potential combatants to a training island on the northwest side of Middle Rodania. Jordan hazarded a guess that if Toth really was involved in this military movement, he'd be on that island, getting ready to train Strix fighters.
Combatant: The Revelations of Oriceran (The Kacy Chronicles Book 3) Page 10