Eire of Aggression

by Gavin Green

  12

  Propping his large light blue feet up on a padded stool, Cadell Arms-Caller reclined into a chair of equal comfort. His tent, while a modest green and tan affair from the outside, held a cavernous space within. Near the back of the well-appointed interior was where he had his 'seat of respite' placed, affording a long view of any visitors. The named chair was in fact the only proper seat in the tent. Visitors could sit on pillows if they wished, and the table with his maps - the topmost being a rough topographic sketch of Ballaghadaere - was only stood at. The troll wanted no one else in his tent to be truly comfortable.

  Near to where Cadell lounged were a handful of his spriggan guards who stood at attention while holding stone-bladed halberds or bone-tipped spears. He gestured for one to step closer and told him, "Find the one called Renard. He is a sprite who wields a crude morning star. Escort him here to me. Go."

  Among only a few others, Renard was known to Cadell from past campaigns. The sprite was considered a fine warrior, quick with his gifts, and could read the tempo of a battle. Outside of combat, he was just as prized for keeping troop morale up by means of a dry wit and gregarious demeanor. True, Renard had sharp wits and charisma, but was no leader - nor would he choose to be. It was because of all those traits that Cadell wanted him for a mission.

  The spriggan escort eventually returned and announced Renard's presence, as was custom. Cadell thought some might consider the sprite handsome with his wild mop of light brown hair, clean face, and of a robust build for his race. It was said that neither Renard's overlarge cream-colored eyes nor his near-constant grin betrayed his true intentions, for he could offer a hand of friendship or crush a skull with the same sociable expression.

  Dressed in a long coat of black-and-tan squared lamellar armor with a brown tunic underneath, Renard seemed already prepared for activity. His large spiked club was not at hand, but Cadell was sure its token stayed with him at all times. The sprite kept his crooked smile as he approached and gave a simple bow of his head to the lounging elder.

  "Renard, your acceptance of my invitation is appreciated," Cadell said as he was handed a stone goblet of wine from one of his servants.

  "Did I honestly have a choice, elder?" Renard asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  "One always has a choice, warrior, although I've never taken you for a fool. I can have cushions gathered if you care to sit."

  Renard looked down at his own armor and then back up to Cadell with a smirk. "My current attire is not the best fit for socialization. Had I thought you were calling for me to join you in a revel of singing and dancing I would have simply kept my robe on."

  Cadell nearly smiled in appreciation of the sprite's light-hearted candor, but not quite. "Your assumption was correct; I wish you to perform a duty for the benefit of our cause." He took a sip of his Lore wine and then asked, "Have you ever used a neutral passage before?"

  Frowning, the sprite awkwardly replied, "In all truth, elder, I am quite unfamiliar with them."

  "How disappointing," Cadell casually remarked.

  Suppressing a snarl, Renard pressed on. "I am aware that they are found in various neutral lands, cost little or no glamour to use, and that they are portals to a fixed Verden location much like a permanent bridge. Beyond that, I have no further knowledge; I've never had the need or want to put one to use."

  "True on all counts, but those are the simple workings - they are slightly more complicated than that. Neutral passages are gaps in the ether... I suppose the analogy of a rodent tunnel would suffice to explain them. They give off a small but constant flow of glamour; whether that glamour seeps in from the mundane realm or is the product of nearby Lore holdings, no one can say with confidence."

  Renard wondered aloud, "Then why are fae not tapping this resource?"

  "A good question," Cadell said. He gestured for a goblet to be offered to his guest. After Renard took a sip and nodded his thanks, the troll supplied the answer, "There are two reasons. The first is that a majority of these rare neutral passages are in dangerous locations - in or near dragon lairs, hydra valleys, and the like. Secondly, the rest are connected to Verden locations that offer little immediate appeal for us. Here in the Lore, those latter passages are usually the hub of communal fae villages or low-borne communities, not unlike a Verden village surrounding a well."

  "How quaint," Renard remarked with a grin, "and it explains why they gather where they do - a mystery revealed that I've never been interested enough to ask about to anyone, ever."

  Cadell let his glare linger before saying, "Perhaps your lack of curiosity will soon be remedied; I'm sending you through one."

  Renard's normally jovial expression soured. "You mean to send me to some pathetic low-caste village of crude huts and odd smells? Having feebleminded faelings either cowing in corners or groveling at my feet is not my idea of fun."

  "I didn't say this mission would be 'fun', nor would I ever consider saying so. Yet, to put you at ease, the only low-caste you'll need to bother yourself with are servile but disciplined spriggans." Cadell paused to sip from his goblet. "But before I go further, I would wish you to know all pertinent facts of neutral passages so that you are fully aware; the unexpected can always be used as an excuse for poor results." He glared at Renard and added, "Poor results are dangerous things in war."

  Fighting back a sarcastic retort, Renard simply replied, "Very generous of you; I'll keep that in mind" and then took a long drink of his wine.

  Cadell spoke further without concern that he'd offended his guest. He considered the sprite beneath him in all aspects that mattered and therefore not yet worthy of sympathy. "Passages are usually in the shape of an underground tunnel of natural origin. Various aspiring low-borne are known to sometimes inhabit them, hoping to catch the attention of any true fae that might use it. They do so for the purpose of garnering a master. I am told that these low-borne supplicants sometime wait for centuries between visits of high-borne travelers, let alone being accepted into service. While they wait, they expand parts of the passage to suit their needs; this is presumably possible from extended attunement to their surroundings. From this, specified rooms and large halls are said to exist."

  "Interesting," Renard admitted, "And yet it must be a lonely existence for those who choose little-used passages. By chance, do you tell me this because the one I am to use is so inhabited?"

  "It is, but by meek gnomes from the report given. How you deal with them, if you even choose to acknowledge their presence, is entirely your affair. When you arrive into the mundane realm, you will initially be in diminutive form because of the size of the exit, and then expand to your full form as you see fit. If you choose to return by the same passage, you would have to reduce your size once more to enter from the Verden side. Since all high-borne have that ability, it is of little import; I mention it now for the sake of detail. Verily, it is why some of the smaller races use neutral passages on greater occasion; they need not bother to alter their size."

  "An advantage for them," Renard said. "If I remember correctly, altering proportions to that degree consumes glamour. In your case," he gestured to his host with his goblet, "or for fae of even larger size, it would surely be costly. Ah, the price you pay for stature."

  Cadell leaned slightly forward and said cryptically, "You don't know the half of it."

  "Did I miss something?" Renard asked. "What did that mean?"

  Leaning back into the chair's cushions, Cadell casually replied, "It means that I have found a neutral passage that is claimed, but not by a filthy village of low-borne or the two gnomes burrowed within it."

  It took Renard only a split second to realize what the troll elder was alluding to. Eyes wide with surprise, the warrior sprite loudly said, "You mean to send me into the territory of some foul beast! You think too much of my prowess and daring if you expect me to charge heedless through a forest of sky serpents, into a den of leucrottas, or to face a cave full of fog bears. I will walk away from this whole a
ffair first."

  "Calm yourself, Renard - it is none of those things."

  "Truly? Then who claims this passage?"

  "Her name is Zyamell. She is a dragon."

  "A dragon?!" Renard shouted with a half-laugh of disbelief. "You must have lost your wits to think a dragon is somehow a better option!"

  Cadell shrugged. "As dragons go, we could fare much worse. She is no colossal beast such as the one called Serafeim, who mindlessly devours anything within reach. Zyamell is of much higher intellect, capable of speech and deliberation."

  "Oh, since you put it that way, Cadell, I'll just skip merrily on my way and serenade her with a sonnet, shall I? And since she can talk, she'll be able to tell me what a tasty snack I'll make before she chews me up. What a delight!" Renard said with scathing sarcasm.

  "Quit being so dramatic, Renard," Cadell said off-handedly.

  "You must be a fool to think I'm one as well, elder. Did you honestly believe that a nonchalant attitude to explain this would work?"

  "If you're through being offended, I will explain. Because of her comprehension, this dragon can be reasoned with, bartered with. I already have an agreement in place, as a matter of fact. If my blunt demeanor can obtain a bound pact with such a beast, then your comparatively silver tongue should serve you well."

  "With a dragon..." Renard muttered incredulously.

  "Zyamell even has a set of beliefs," Cadell commented while holding his goblet out to be refilled. "Not that I fully understand it, but I thought it best not to question her philosophies."

  "Since you've met her, what am I to expect?"

  "With your eye for aesthetics, Zyamell might fascinate you with her opalescent scales and exotic facial structure that's more feline than reptile. Her build is more serpentine than bulky, but she still had the size to devour me in two bites. For reasons I can only speculate on, she tries to avoid harming low-borne - with the possible exception of ogres. The fact that I was surrounded by my guards kept she and I in a state of temporary truce; as I've mentioned, she has strange theories. But I'll get back to that soon enough - I will finish informing you on neutral passages first."

  Renard took a deep breath and crossed his arms, mentally perusing the elder troll's words for any vague or misleading words. "So be it; let's be done with the simplicities," he replied with wary acceptance. "Tell me of the other end of neutral passages, if you would."

  "Very well," Cadell said, peeved at the sprite's informal and brusque request. "On the Verden side, a few of the passage gates are located in fissures or caves, and thus are unobtrusive. The majority, however, are physically apparent. They take the shape of abrupt knolls or hillocks of various sizes, made either by ancient mundane burial practices or by ruptures in the ether. The majority of these are found in the lands of the old Celts, Saxons and Danes, although other such anomalous gates can be found throughout their realm. The humans refer to them as fairy mounds."

  "Fairy mounds?" Renard repeated with arched eyebrows while a spriggan servant offered him another small cup of wine. "Do they mean to insult us?"

  Cadell shook his head. "I believe the term is used as a generalized label. From their old beliefs, these mounds still hold a superstitious respect - to some, even a reverence or fear. Some humans still keep to the folklore that to offend any fae is to incur our wrath. While we may have become more cautious and passive in the autumn of our existence, the creed still holds merit."

  Renard shrugged and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "I'll take your word for it, elder. Unlike many sprites, I spend little time in the mundane realm." He drained his cup and handed it to one of Cadell's servants for a refill. "It's not that I don't appreciate the lesson, but I would rather know of the matters that concern me - besides a dragon. For example, you agreed that these neutral passages were comparable to permanent bridges; does the ether affect them in the same manner in terms of time? I'd hate to make a journey through one and miss the cleansing altogether."

  "From the evidence I've gathered, they are much more akin to temporary bridges in that respect - the variation of time is negligible. I would even postulate that they are better shielded against the effects of the ether than any fae-made bridge. Worry not, Renard, you'll have your chance to plunder."

  "Ah, good," the sprite said, the corners of his mouth curling up with anticipation. "Another question that comes to mind is who will accompany me; you certainly won't send me out alone."

  Cadell answered while Renard received another cup of wine. "No, of course not; I have a small party in mind, and you shall lead them. Take your Fair friend Uther. But to balance his wild and impulsive tendencies, the troll Valka will also be asked to join you."

  Renard sighed and planted one hand on his hip. "So much for a merry occasion," he commented, gesturing with his cup and spilling a bit of wine in the process.

  Putting a hand to his spiked chin, Cadell asked, "You are at odds with that warrior?"

  "Not odds as such, elder. Valka's high and unwavering honor is on the verge of cloying, and she hasn't allowed anyone between her long legs since she's been here. To make it plain, she's fine to gaze upon but a dreadful bore."

  "Then I am correct - she is a fine choice to keep your 'merry' band focused on the tasks at hand. And, while I assume you have practiced the gift of sight that your race is known for, a detector fae will nonetheless accompany your group to act as your scout. We have a few of them in camp; I'd like to test at least one's worth. Take the one called Perrine. Oh," he added casually, "you'll need the dryad named Tobias to join you."

  "Elder Saraid's latest bed pet? I'd think he'd be more hindrance than help on this sort of adventure."

  "Have faith; he will be valuable." Cadell wanted the young dryad out of the way so as not to give Saraid any excuses to delay her duties. If she were to find another lapdog lover, the wily troll could easily create another mission to send that one on. If the war party was to be controlled, then so was she.

  "So you say," Renard replied skeptically. He quickly drained his cup again and tossed it to a nearby servant. He crossed his arms again and said, "Now that your choices have been named, I have two more - and rather obvious - questions about this mission: where is this neutral passage of yours and what is the objective?"

  Cadell finally did smile, and it wasn't pleasant. "I suppose you remember that traitorous redcap that met his end recently. Directly after that incident transpired, I travelled to his unclaimed holdings to add them to my own. Dark swamps and dirty caves is all he owned, and a small tract at that. However, adjacent to one section of that dismal holding was a neutral land of burnt forest, baked hilltops, and valleys of fog. From my vantage, a neutral passage was within plain sight at the top of a near hill. The entry was evident in the base of a huge, broken stump. More importantly, at least for our current purposes, is where it leads to. The Verden gate of this passage exits to an abandoned field that is only a few hours' casual march from Ballaghadaere."

  "So why don't we simply use that neutral passage to -"

  "At this juncture," Cadell interjected without concern for social graces, "more needs to be said about Zyamell. I surmise that she has the belief that what she consumes is more than mere sustenance. Meaning, to digest a low-borne would adversely affect her strength and intellect, whereas a high-borne meal would add to her power and wisdom. As far as I can tell, size equals power to her - except for ogres, whom she kills without digesting. When I unknowingly went out onto her territory, two of my guards were allowed to scout the passage. That alone cost me two fine weapon tokens, some of my armor, and whatever baubles I carried at that point."

  "Seems a fair trade for the destination you found, but that doesn't explain why the entire war party can't bribe this Zyamell for the passage's use. It would save you elders from expending all that glamour for some huge portal."

  "Then I'll explain." Cadell relaxed further into his chair, inwardly enjoying Renard's discomfort of standing in his armor and occasionally glan
cing about for a chair. "I struck a bargain with that sleek dragon for any future use of her neutral passage. While free low-borne may pass as they please, any kept servants would have to pay her toll with a gift of some sort. Small groups of high-borne wishing to use the passage would have to sacrifice one of their own numbers to meet that toll. For a large party such as has been gathered, Zyamell would demand a high number of warriors to dine upon. Our forces would be dwindled past the point of being effective for our purposes."

  Renard considered for a moment before suggesting, "But, considering the current number of willing warriors and zealots of our laws, could we not slay her instead?"

  "I had pondered that as well," Cadell replied, absently looking into his stone goblet. "But then I recalled seeing Zyamell breathing white fire to herald her own approach. A direct hit of that intense blast would incinerate any fae; anything less might still cause banishment from such intense heat. We could theoretically defeat her, although the war party would be decimated. More warriors would be lost in combat than in payment."

  Renard nodded and thought for a moment. "Those tactics are best left to you, I suppose. As long as she agreed to a bound pact, I am satisfied. Now, back to my immediate concerns, such as the purpose for the Verden visit and how my party and I will find this neutral passage. It would be easiest if you made two temporary portals -"

  Cadell cut the sprite's suggestion off with an abrupt hand. "While I normally like the general concept of 'easy', my time and glamour are needed elsewhere. Three of my guards will lead you to the location, and mounts will be lent for the reasonably short journey - but only near to the passage, and certainly not beyond. Now, as for the mission itself: first, the morpher elder Fergus is overdue on his own mission. Find out why. Secondly, if you come across any of the humans on this list," he signaled a servant, who then handed Renard a scroll, "bring them back to me alive. Any other fae you might come across in the midst of your duties may be dealt with at your discretion."

  A grin was back on the sprite's face. "Perhaps this might be a merry event after all. I might even gain some profit from this little endeavor alone, yes?"

  Cadell sighed and gave the warrior a bored stare. "You apparently don't know this about me, Renard, but I do not suffer idle banter after I've spoken my mind and given my orders. If you need it so much, I will give public accolades when you return with answers, hostages, and a good story to tell. Until then, we both have things to do."

  From the blunt and arrogant dismissal, a scathing retort was on Renard's tongue. He took a moment to choke those words down, kept his teeth together, and then turned to leave the tent with haste.

  "And, Renard," Cadell called out, making the warrior stop and turn to show the scowl on his handsome face, "make sure to take Tobias along, as I've said."

  "You never did explain how that pathetic dryad is of value, especially on a mission of this nature."

  Cadell once again smiled coldly. "Zyamell requires a toll to be paid, remember?"