| |
Alira had never been the victim of Zahra’s militaristic, scolding tone, but now she understood why there were stories. “Where have you been? Wandering off in the dead of the night without even a note? The night before we’re set to return to the front line you go wandering off into the woods alone. Did you stop to think what might have become of us if something happened to you? You put this whole campaign at risk, Alira.”
“Zahra, look at me, I’m fine. There’s nothing here that can harm us, less we do it to ourselves.” Alira kept up the charade, and exchanged glances with Avery who stood off to the side and wanted no part of it. Unfortunate for him, Zahra caught on.
“You!” She exclaimed and stared holes through his soul. “Did you have something to do with this? By the goddess, so help me, if you-”
“No, commander. I didn’t, uh...” He looked at Alira who shook her head, which told him to keep quiet. He straightened himself up and levelled out his voice, “this is news to me, same as you. The princess should know better than to run off on her own without any of her guardsmen.”
“Finally,” Zahra said and felt vindicated. “Someone else gets it.” Alira giggled to herself behind Zahra but had to bite her lip when her sister turned back around. “Oh this is funny, is it? Would you still think it was funny if you didn’t come back? If, because of some idiotic, nighttime fantasy that the princess wandered off and never returned? If the Verbrandt line ended? I’m supposed to ensure that doesn’t happen, Alira, and you’re making it difficult.”
Alira hadn’t thought of that. Though she had a bit of reckless regard for her own life, others dedicated theirs to ensuring her survival. The brief bit of personal revelry turned sour as her mind turned to her brother. “The Verbrandt line lives on in my brother’s child, our future king. What happens to me doesn’t matter, but I do apologize for causing you any form of worry.”
“Just... use your head, alright?” Zahra said and gave Alira a light shove. “You’re my sister too, remember?”
Times like these always caused Alira to miss the petty, little fights they used to have. Sure, they always made up in the end but there was a bit of thrill to be found in their occurrence. Zahra hadn’t been any more than a few feet away from her sister since Cael’s passing and, though his loss wore heavy on her, Zahra didn’t seem to show the same amount of pain. Years of losing soldiers in combat might have done that. I can’t imagine what she’s feeling. I lost my brother, Zahra lost two thousand of hers.
The calls of pipes and drums sounded off in the distance and broke clear and loud across the open air. The sisters turned their attention to the south gate to see a soldier and her aide that were drawing near.
“The reserve force has arrived, your orders?”
“Tell their officer that their soldiers can rest but remain in formation. A brief respite for them while we rouse the camp.” The messenger saluted and ran off back to the main gate. “Sergeant-Major,” Zahra called out.
“Commander.”
“With my compliments, inform our officers to ready their soldiers for formation within the hour. We’re returning to the pass today.”
The older, gruff man she called upon set to task. “I have to ask Zahra. Why a Sergeant-Major?” Alira asked, still new to the workings of the Royal Army. “The general only uses that young corporal. Sere, was it?”
“To reward the most senior soldier that I have. Akim Dolin is one of the most experienced and decorated I’ve fought alongside. He is one of the few soldiers whose courage I’ve never seen faulter.” It was easy to see why she spoke of him in the highest regard. “His legacy commands the respect of my officers, as it does for everyone in my army. He would have made for a fine officer, had he not chosen to stay amongst the ranks.”
“He’s a career soldier,” Sayyed said, as he came out of the princess’ tent. “The army needs leadership from within as much as above. An army without its sergeants crumbles as easily as a bridge with no support. You’d do wise to respect the experience of your sergeants, Alira.”
“Of course, I didn’t mean anything by the question,” she said. “But now I’m fortunate to have a better understanding.”
The reserve force marched through the market district and into Terran Square. One soldier stood out form the rest, their captain. “Tallie! I was wondering when you’d show up.”
“Well someone needed to come and show you how to fight, Ke’elle. I figured maybe a few days of wearing that fanciful new cloak might have been a bit much for you.”
As boisterous as she is cunning, a towering woman and a welcome sight. She dismounted her horse, and still stood at least a head over Zahra. Tallie picked Zahra up and twirled her around with little effort.
“Okay, okay! Tallie put me down.”
She lowered Zahra and turned her attention to Alira. “Good morning, Lady Verbrandt. I’m quite pleased to see you’ve taken such great care of this one in my absence.” Even if Tallie couldn’t see Zahra, she knew she’d roll her eyes at the remark.
“It does me well to see you Talliyenne. Words can’t convey my gratitude for you and your soldiers answering our call.” We need all the help we can get.
“Proud to join the fight my lady.” Alira had never seen the imposing Captain Westron without a smile on her face. “I beg your pardon Lady Alira, but I should let the king know his reserves have arrived. Zahra, will you announce me?” Tallie’s request was met with no response. “Has the king moved to the pass already? Well then, we shouldn’t delay.” She looked to Alira, to find a tear streamed down her cheek.
“Come Alira, let’s get you ready.” Captain Sayyed grabbed her by the shoulder and led her into her tent. Avery followed and drew closed the flaps of the tent to obscure her from view.
Tallie looked to Zahra for an answer. “Did I say something wrong? If I’ve overstepped, I must apologize. I didn’t mean-”
Zahra interjected, “did he not tell you? Do you not know of what’s happened?”
“We were dispatched late two days ago. Rygar said the reserve force was needed to ensure the security of the pass and to be called up as the main force’s rearguard.”
“How could he withhold something like this? Tallie, did you see the queen after you were given orders? How did she seem, her temperament I mean?”
“She farewelled us at the gate. I paid my respects to her, and she thanked all of us, smile was as infectious as ever. Though I had my concerns about the campaign and the potential action, her words laid my concerns to rest.”
Zahra crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her tongue inside her cheek. Her left foot incessantly tapped the ground. After a career of service with Zahra, those closest to her knew she only did this when she was angry. In a softer tone than Zahra normally spoke with, she said, “so she doesn’t know.” She looked out at the reserve forces, “none of you know. Of course you don’t.”
“You’re scaring me. What didn’t he tell us?”
Zahra stopped and lifted her reddened up for Tallie to see. “The king is dead.”
* * *
“I can’t go. Please, Mohammed, I... I just can’t.” Alira sat on her bed and failed to hold back her emotion. “Cael won’t be there with us and I...”
“Alira, we have to go. You did not ask for this, but by blood command falls to you.”
“Well, I can just run away. Far away from all of this.”
“And where might you go?”
Alira thought of all the places she could run, each seemed a lifetime away and yet not far enough. There was one place where, if she could ever find it, she thought she would be safe. “I could find Juneau.” Sayyed walked over to the other side of the tent to bring pieces of her armor. “If no one else has found it, then I think I’d be safe there. Maybe, we all might.”
“And where, dear Alira, would you start looking?”
She knew the word would strike a chord with him, “Reyvia. I’d start looking in Reyvia.”
Sayyed laughed timidly, still loud enough to let Alira know how silly she sounded. “Alira, the stories I told you as a girl are meant for nothing more than the amazement of children. Afterall, how could they be anything else? No one has found any trace of the city. It may lie across the ice fields across the sea to the north or sunk into the depths of the Eastern Expanse. Maybe it does lie across the sand wastes of my home, but none can tell.”
“None of that matters. I will find it, and when I do, I will live there forever.”
“Well, then you make me a promise.” Sayyed decided to keep her mind occupied with this for a few moments longer. “When you are the first person to find Juneau and lay your eyes on its antiquated splendor, you’ll come back–at least once–and you’ll tell me all about it.” He wiped the last of the tears from her eyes as a slight smile came across her face.
She threw her arms around him, a father to her in the absence of her own. “I promise. When I find it, wherever you are, I’ll come back and tell you.”
The flaps of her tent burst open, and the lightness of the mood that Sayyed had built with Alira was vacuumed out. “Is she ready yet? The army is waiting on her.” A fiery-eyed Zahra had grown impatient.
“We’re getting to it, commander.” Sayyed walked closer to Zahra so they could speak without Alira overhearing them. “The Royal Army won’t march without its leader, who is taking the time she needs.”
“It’s not time that best serves this campaign. What she needs is to strap on her armor, mount her horse and-”
“In due time, Zahra. There’s no war to fight today.”
“But yet the simplest of battles between my sister and her armor is one we don’t have the time to fight.” Zahra stepped around Sayyed and made her way to Alira. She pulled the green doublet from the chest beside her sister and held it up.
“I’m not going Zahra, I can’t go without Cael.”
“I don’t know if you thought about this, Alira, but here’s the reality of things. Your army is waiting on you-”
“Well then let them wait. We go when I say we go.”
Zahra bit her lip, else the words she didn’t want to say would escape. “You cut me off again and there will be a fight today, one underneath this canvas. Now, you’re going to put your armor on. You’re going to be the leader your name dictates you to be, and you are coming with us back to Khuldir; even if I have to drag you there.” Alira declined to give her a response.
Zahra threw the doublet down onto the bed and started to walk out of the tent but stopped short of leaving. “I needn’t remind your sister that our brother is gone. By blood, his leadership has passed to you, whether you choose it or not. I feel the pangs of his death, and yet I still must follow my duty to our kingdom.”
“You feel nothing, Zahra. I’ve not seen you shed a single tear for our brother. You, Zahra Ke’elle, are absent of heart and devoid of compassion. You don’t care that he died–admit it–and you care less for the thousands of our soldiers who lie dead in those mountains. You couldn-”
Zahra stormed back and slapped Alira across her face, knowing she needed to be levelled out by a force more powerful than words.
“You’ll not lay another hand on the princess,” Sayyed ordered, hand on his sword.
She held up a finger to him and requested a moment. If she had to, Zahra would correct him as well.
“Is that what you think of me? Do you think I feel nothing from losing my own brother? Do you think I feel nothing from ordering our soldiers to their deaths!? No, sister, I have seen and felt the sting of more loss than I pray you will ever know. Don’t let this falsity blind you.”
Alira felt the chill of the cool air rush against the warm blood in her cheek where Zahra struck her. It did nothing to pull her out of the daze she slipped in to.
“Look at me,” Zahra commanded. “I said look at me!” She grabbed Alira’s face, but Alira still refused to look at her sister. “We can fight about Cael’s death when this is all over. If you plan to run away, that’s fine. You do whatever it is you think you need to do but you will not run today. You have a duty to your people, and you will fulfill it.” Zahra picked the doublet up. “Now, one arm at a time.”
Is this how you felt, Cael? When duty called, you had to answer before you were ready. Is this why you changed?
It took a moment, but Alira held up her arms and allowed Zahra to slip the green doublet over her torso. The rest of her armor was donned without issue while Alira’s mind fluctuated between moments of seeming calmness and emotional collapse. Each piece took her further from where she wanted to be and rooted her in the present moment from which she recoiled.
The last pieces to go on were Alira’s bracers. Zahra took them to Sayyed and shoved them into his stomach. “I know you help her put her armor on.” She took a breath, and a moment to collect herself before going out to her soldiers. “Traditions are destroyed far easier than they are built. She might need this one. Five minutes, no more,” Zahra said as she left the tent.
It was more than five minutes before Alira was born from the canvas. She bore an emotionless and hollow look as an overwhelmed silence fell over the ranks, save for a few hushed conversations. The soldiers saw their princess presented as their leader for the first time and were terrified of what might befall them. Where the strong and stalwart Cael Verbrandt had once stood, they now had the quiet and timid Princess Alira. Nonetheless, they were fortunate to have a true leader in Zahra, one who might just get them home alive.
Sayyed helped Alira on to her horse and then mounted his own. Zahra rode up next to her, ready to depart. “You have to be the one to give the order, Alira.”
She didn’t respond, and her eyes were on the ground. Worry beset her face as she looked to the mountains before her. Destiny. “Let’s.... Take us out, Zahra.”
Without giving her a moment to recant, Zahra raised her hand and dropped it forward. The thunderous march of two thousand of Namelle’s soldiers started up at once with the sound of their pipes and drums.
Every step brought Alira closer to that uncertain destiny on the other side of the mountains and took her further from Cael and everything she knew. Even still, she rode on with Zahra at her side.
* * *
The hours passed in silence. The windswept trees and the grind of marching feet against rock offered some auditory reprieve. Thick, morning fog hung in the air for a while and only dissipated when the sun rose higher into the sky. It receded high up on the mountains to the cool air at the top and awaited the weaning hours of the day to come again.
Every step they marched brought back memories of those loved and lost. Only days before they were filled with so much promise and purpose, and now felt an icy and pervasive coldness that clawed at the back of their minds.
As they turned to ascend into the pass, a commotion erupted from behind the front of the column. There were raised voices and a wild ruckus from within the ranks. It ground the entire force to a halt and Zahra rode back to investigate as the last of the king’ guard closed around Alira. One of Zahra’s conscripts was restrained by two other regulars, while a corporal lay bloodied on the ground and a sergeant knelt next to him. She dismounted her horse and handed over the reins to a lieutenant in the ranks.
“What is the meaning of this?! One of you best loose your tongue, else I’ll hold all of you accountable and every man here shall face punishment for those transgressions.”
“You think we fear your punishment more than what the Essean’s are capable of?” The restrained soldier asked. “And here we have the one soldier in Namelle touched by their same darkness come to punish me for what her people did to ours only days ago.”
Of course it’s one from the provinces.
“Insolent dog!” The sergeant raised his hand to strike the conscript, but Zahra raised hers to stop him.
She squatted down before the man and came to eye level. “Whether you think me a monster or not matters little, for I am your commanding officer. I’ll allow you one opportunity to speak before I bring resolution this matter.”
“You march us to our doom like you did before, only now there are thousands less of my brothers and sisters; our king included.” The soldier saw the last note had scratched a nerve. “I have every right to return home and prepare to defend it as I see fit. I fought and I lost, have I not earned that right? Have we not earned that right?”
Zahra saw a few other heads which nodded among her conscripted soldiers. No matter the reason for the battle, dissenters will always be present within your ranks. If it’s ten leagues away or on your doorstep, as an officer, you must never forget them. Your cares and concerns may not always be theirs, and though they wear our colors on the battlefield, their hearts and their minds will always be home. She never forgot Trystan’s words, so early in her life was she told them and now they were an echo from her past.
“What’s your name, soldier?”
“Serrin. What use do you have for it, commander?”
“Because I care for each of my soldiers. I need to know how each of them feels and how they think. Where their hearts are, and if they’re in this with us until the end.”
“Then my thoughts are that you release us. It is spring and we have crops to sew, homes to tend and families who need us.”
“More than your country needs you, then? Entertain me for a moment. You were among those who fought in Khuldir I presume? So you saw the Esseans firsthand. Their ferocity, their lack of empathy and their absolute desire to bury a sword in your chest.”
“Aye, your point?”
“Then what do you think will happen if we release you from these ranks? You get to go home and live your life for a few more days? Say the Esseans wash over us, breach the pass, and enter the lands of Aenne Aelle, how long do you think it will be before you are put to the sword? Until your family is enslaved and your home is razed? How long do you think you will last outside this army? Together we are stronger than trying to go it alone. Do you think the rest of your compatriots risk less than you do?”
“Commander, I-” her voice faltered.
“When we take this victory from Essea, that is glory we will share together. Only then can we lay down our arms, and we get to go home. When there is no enemy left to fight.” Serrin fell silent, Zahra’s words had gotten through to him. “Sergeant, tell me what happened here.”
“He attempted to foster distention and convince more to commit mutiny and desert the army. When no one bought in, he tried to run. He was caught by the corporal and fought back, bloodying his nose in the struggle. Only when restrained by two other soldiers was he subdued.”
“Thank you, sergeant.” She looked back to Alira who stared up at the mountain peaks of the Aelle Faene and seemed to show no interest in this. Probably for the best.
“What are you looking at her for?” Serrin piped up again. “She was useless to save her brother and got most of her guard killed. That bit-”
Zahra slammed the back of her metal gauntlet against Serrin’s face and left deep cuts that trickled blood. Zahra clenched her fists tight and felt boiled blood fill her veins. The sting of her eye increased as her contempt grew. The power of the sheyde was released into her body. It feels...good.
Serrin, who fell to the ground from the strike pressed a hand to his face to stop the flow of bright red blood that spattered on the ground. In an open circle, he knelt before Zahra and awaited her judgment.
“I ask you now, Serrin the Coward, what crime do you choose to be punished for? How is it that you want history to remember you? Striking a soldier of a rank superior to yours? Insubordination? or desertion?”
“Of my own free will, I choose to leave a fight that is not mine. I will not fight for her,” he said as he looked over her shoulder at Alira and spat on Zahra’s boots. “I fought for the king. I fought for his Namelle, and I refuse to give my life for his hopeless shadow of a sister. The Verbrandt line is finished. It died with her brother.”
There is only one crime for which to label your transgressions in the justice of man. “Then your choice is rescinded. Refusing to fight for Aenne Aelle against the empire is the crime of treason. One which carries a sentence of death.” She drew Talon from its sheath and saw Serrin’s eyes widened as he looked upon the blade. “Restrain him.”
The soldiers grabbed tight to Serrin, who struggled. They bound his hands in rope behind him. Zahra wiped the blade with her black cape, and noticed the way the pale, green color in her eye reflected on the sword’s surface. The sergeant pushed Serrin forward and exposed his neck. As Zahra outstretched her sword and rested the cold steel against it, she heard the sobs of the man beneath her blade and pronounced his sentence.
“Serrin the Treasonous, you are guilty of the crime for which you are now named. Your soul will wander, lost in the dark. You shall never know the light of the Embrace and will pass into the Abyss where you will contemplate your crimes for eternity.”
Zahra drew Talon back and with a heavy, downward swing Serrin’s head was separated from his body. She passed her sword to Sergeant-Major Dolin who wiped it down before it was placed back in its sheath. Zahra re-mounted her horse as the conscripts watched in disbelief, while her regulars felt that their honor had been defended.
“Corporal, as is customary, bury the body in a shallow grave with no marker. For slandering a member of the royal family, his head is to be buried separate from his body. Take two soldiers to help and catch up with us when the task is done. The last words prior to his burial are yours.”
“Aye, commander. I’ll see to it.” The corporal selected two soldiers who picked up the head and body, and drug them off the road. He grabbed a shovel from one of the carts and followed them into the woods beyond the field.
“Sergeant, reform your ranks. See to it I don’t have to come back here again.” Zahra looked to many of the conscripts who nodded in agreement with Serrin. “Let that be lesson to any who would dare echo the same rhetoric.”
The sergeant gave her a L’Cada salute as she rode back to the front of the column. As she waited for the ranks to re-form, Alira spoke. “Zahra... what have you done?”
“I did what had to be done. I upheld the honor of your house and fulfilled my responsibility to adhere to the laws by which the royal army is bound.” As the ranks reformed, she motioned for the march to continue. Zahra felt the sensation of the sheyde in her body retreat back into nothingness. “The day grows late, and we have a way to go.”
As their horses started to move, Zahra listened to Alira speak under her breath. “Free will,” she said. “The doom of humanity. We did to ourselves, didn’t we?”
* * *
Alira’s eyes crested the hill into the city, and she saw the rear gate of Khuldir wasn’t where it was supposed to be. In its place were empty support posts where the iron mass once stood.
“They must have moved it forward,” Zahra replied. “They’ve nothing to fear from the way we came except a deafening silence... and maybe bears.”
In the valley below the road, where so much happened only days before, the Khuldiri had erected many tall funeral pyres. There wasn’t enough cloth to cover each body, so only the ones on top were hidden. Alira and Zahra pulled their horses to the side of the road and allowed the army to march past them as they greeted the chieftain.
“It’s good to have you back princess, commander.” Dag walked up the gradual hill that led down to the gate. “Thanks to your soldiers, we’ll be able to have a proper funeral. As close as we can get, given the circumstances.”
“You’ve not separated them,” Zahra noted. “Esseans, mixed in with ours. Have they not customs of their own?”
“The old archives say that they release their spirits in a storm of fire, so I suppose it's fitting they burn where they are.” Alira had studied the scant information which was known about Illyria. A near mirror of Namellian funeral customs, so as far as Alira knew ‘released in a storm of fire’ was the same as burning on a pyre.
“We all come into this world the same, mays’well go out that way too. Afterall,” Dag said as his arms folded over his chest, “in death, there are no differences between us.”
“Well said,” Zahra replied.
“They never sent a party to collect, so we’ll send off the poor souls gracefully and be done with it.” The cheer that Dag exhibited each time he came to Namelle had vanished. “Come on, let’s find a spot to talk.” He led them up to his manor, part way up the mountain path. Dag’s home was carved into the side of Til Oron, the tallest mountain in the Aelle Faene. They left their horses with Dag’s stable master, and Alira ordered Sayyed to follow while the remainder waited outside.
Lit braziers lined the hallway and reflected on the gems inset in the walls. Vibrant reds and blues that wove throughout and terminated in Dag’s Great Hall.
“I think the last time one of your kind was in my hall it was your father. An enjoyable time that was, the last night I ever saw Trystan.” He settled himself down into an uncomfortable looking stone chair and put his feet up. “All filled with fire he was, off to do the king’s business. Couldn’t say the same for Rygar.”
“How did you fare Dag?” Alira asked, cutting out the pleasantries. “How are your people?”
“Oh.” He was surprised by her directness. “Right to it then. Well, it’s not bloody pretty, is it? They did a number on us, but my people are the dwellers in the shadow of the mountain. We’ll burn our dead, scatter the ashes on the wind, fix what we’ve lost and build ourselves up again.”
“If you’ll permit me to ask, how many lives were lost?” Alira felt wrong even having voiced the question, having already been told, but she wanted to show adequate reverence for the loss.
Dag upended the cup of ale he took from his side table. The little that remained he swirled around in the bottom, trying to muster the courage to tell her. “Let’s say there’ll be a lot of grievin’ being done this evening. The left flank held, the upper quarters were defended... The right flank was annihilated. We managed to pull a lucky few still breathin’ from among the dead, but they aren’t doing well. They might get back on their feet, but they won’t be the same again.”
Alira watched the right flank capitulate from the rear and saw the sea of blackness cut through the Namellian reinforcements sent into the valley. She knew that it was a total loss. Victory to be sure, albeit pyrrhic. It would have felt wrong not to ask.
“I see the old boy has sent up your reserve force at least.” Dag looked at Zahra, desperate to get off the subject of loss. “You think that’ll be enough, lass?” He would have known, as she did, there was no way only five hundred could conceivably reinforce the losses Namelle suffered.
“It’s... it’s all we have.” She swallowed loud enough for Alira to notice the angst stuck in her throat. “To make things worse, he held back the Lucian Company in Namelle. Rygar sent our last five hundred regulars, little more than half of what I hoped for.”
“Does he think you to be dead already? If he withheld some of the best, he must have good reason. He must be-”
“Preparing for Namelle’s defense. Yeah, that’s where his priorities are.” Zahra’s fists clenched at her side. “He never even had the guts to tell the queen that her husband lies dead in the crypt of Tirelle Castle.” Zahra pondered asking her next question, one she already knew the answer to but had to be sure of. “Dag, if you have any soldiers, you can spare...”
“I feared we’d get to that. I have little more than a hundred fighters here. We lost generations of families in that fight. If we don’t have enough to defend our home...”
“Worry on it no more,” Alira interjected. “We haven’t come to reap the rest of your fighters or ask of you the impossible. We only wish to remain in this pass, should Essea come ‘round again.”
“That’s what troubles me. If that battle was a demonstration of Essean ferocity, then it’s only a matter of time ‘til they return.” He might not have known when, but the next incursion would be worse.
“Our allies are spread too thin,” Alira replied. She held back telling him that none could have been called at such short notice. “As such, the only hope we’ll find is in ourselves.”
“If only the old Alliance of Massa still stood, now that would be something,” Dag said, excited and lost in an old memory. “Can you imagine it? Namelle, Khuldir, Shiun, and Reyvia alongside Talliers and Vockla. The power of Nemesia all standing together once again?”
“Too far gone are those bonds of friendship I’m afraid,” Zahra said. “I think it’s best to remain in the here and now, face down what’s in front of us.”
Out in the hall a door flew open, breaking up the conversation. A messenger hurried in, out of breath from having sprinted more than a short distance. “I got somethin’ you’re not going’ta believe Chief. There’s a great stirrin’ from down the gate. If I could speak with you in private for a wee moment.” He turned and bowed to Alira and Zahra.
“Anything you’ve got to say, you can say it in front of our friends. We ‘ave no time for secrets.”
The messenger straightened himself up, a worry was about him. “Three have come from up the pass. Two soldiers with another dressed up far too pretty to fight. Says he’s the envoy of–oh what was his name again? –Artim, the Viscount of Essea.”
Dag slammed down his cup. His face had grown red, and his brow furled. “And he comes to my gates expectin’ to entreat? After everything they did to us. How many of our sons and daughters lie on the funeral pyres?”
Zahra and Alira waited whilst Dag paced about the hall, and muttered to himself as he went. When his anger got the better of him, no piece of furniture was safe. He made an awful mess of the once pristine space. Metal plates and chalices were strewn about the floor and made an awful clanging sound as they fell.
“His guards wait at the gate, bring the envoy to us and we’ll see what more they want with Khuldir.” The messenger bowed and ran out of the manor.
“Mohammed, summon my guard officers,” Alira ordered. Captain Sayyed nodded and followed out the hall from which the messenger had come. “Dag, this might be our chance for peace, and put an end to this fighting. I’ve heard the concerns of my soldiers, and I think-”
“Lira, this will only be over when the last of them stops breathing. After everything they’ve taken, each of them has forfeited the right to live. I’ll have no more of this talk of peace in my hall, not when we’re threatened by the presence of an envoy of... oh, what was his name again?”
“Artim, the Viscount of–”
“Essea, yes thanks, movin' on. If you’ll accompany me to the Hall of Chiefs, we’ll await our guest there.”
Avery and Danie returned with Sayyed and, together with Zahra, the group took their place in the hall with Alira. Dag sat at the top of his stone throne, which was covered in furs. Alira took a seat in the chair next to his, where his late wife used to sit. Zahra and Sayyed took their place at Alira’s side with Gelrain and Kriel at the bottom of the few steps down to the floor.
Dag’s clansmen took positions on either side of the hall and dimmed the braziers to provide the envoy with a more unwelcoming ambience. His guards lined the hall like boulders in stone-grey armor as the dwarfish soldier led the envoy into the Hall of Chiefs.
“May I present Rial von Tennen, envoy to Artim il Essen, Lord Viscount of Essea, Warden of the Northmarch and Vanguard to his Imperial Majesty, the Imperator, Vanir of Trella.” The envoy removed his hood, revealing an emaciated, pale complexion and imperfect blonde hair.
It wasn’t his cold features that sent a chill up Alira’s spine, it was his yellowed eyes. They were the same color she saw in the eyes of the Reaver which took Cael’s life. Their bright glow in the dim light turned her stomach.
“Envoy.” Dag spoke to him directly, foregoing pleasantries. “You are in the hall of the great fathers of Khuldir. Whatever ill tidings your lord has sent you to bring us, know they will be reciprocated in kind.” Dag rose from his chair, and all four feet of him seemed more imposing at the height on which he stood.
“Chieftain Daghrad Khuldirsman, I presume?” The envoy said in a slow, light tone. An air of nobility and a privileged upbringing were evident in the distain with which he spoke.
“Aye, get on with it. I’ve not the time to entertain ye longer than I need to.”
“Might I ask, who in your company I have the pleasure of seeing before me? We are-” Rial lifted his nose, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as if he were smelling them. “-unacquainted.”
“Apologies.” Dag often forgot about courtly manners as they were disposed of in Khuldir. “To my left is her royal highness, Lady Alira Verbrandt, Princess of Namelle.”
“Your highness.” He bowed his head to Alira, and his voice trailed off into a near hiss. “If my inference is correct, to your right must be someone of great importance, to you.”
“This is the leader of our army. The Dame, Commander Zahra Ke’elle.” As Alira finished her introduction, Rial seemed to ponder her response and repeated the name over and again to himself, beneath his breath, while a thin smile stretched across his face.
“Ke-elle?” His eyes traced between nothingness and Zahra. Rial spoke in a hushed voice though he dwelt on something important. “Surely, she can’t be...” He spoke to Zahra again, “short for another name, perhaps?”
“This is the name I was given, from my first day until my last. Loose your tongue, inform us why your lord has sent you and begone from our sight.” Zahra had neither the desire nor the patience to entertain the drone of her enemy.
“How curt of me. Before I begin, might I express my lord’s undying gratitude for the inclusion of our deceased in your pyre. May the flame set to their souls guide them through the Eternal Darkness and into the Calm.”
“For that you are welcome. All are children of Idel, no matter where they call home,” Dag said, still unamused.
“Now, on to the true purpose of my calling. I have been sent to discuss the terms of your surrender to our Viscount.” The hall erupted in hysterics from Dag’s men. Even Dag cracked a smile, while Alira only grew more concerned. She knew better than to underestimate Essea.
“Surrender? To him? You said you’ve already noticed the black armor lying on our pyres. We kicked your arses, and you ran home back down the hill. I’d say that gives us zero reason to lay down before, what, three Esseans?”
The envoy seemed to not understand the sentiment, Rial folded his arms over and replied. “You think it was because of your forces the attack was abandoned? You think that it was your army that was victorious? Beside the point, I have yet to hear you admit that there is more silver than black amongst that lot. I’m sure they all meant something to you, and it hurts to lose them. We see our loss as more of a necessary sacrifice for the glory of Illyria and his Imperial Majesty.”
“We watched you run away, tucked your tails between your legs and sprinted back down below. You think you’re the ones who claimed victory here?”
“Surely, you jest. The moment of our attack, the timing of our retreat and the release of his highness’ pet was all our doing–I can assure you of that. It was perfect, wasn’t it? Too perfect that you failed to see it was orchestrated.”
“What do you mean?”
“We attacked when you least expected us, before your regal reinforcements had time to organize themselves. We unleashed our Reaver to break contact and pull our forces back. This, our discussion here and now, was our next move. All of it, founded on perfect intelligence.”
“Perfect intelligence?” Zahra scoffed at the notion. “What you would call intelligence, I would call luck.”
“Even so, a snake slithers amongst the sheep. Perhaps it is you, commander?” Zahra drew her sword against Rial from where she stood. Sayyed held out his hand to Talon’s blade and asked Zahra to lower it. “After all, who would have the most to gain from the death of your monarch? Quick to be defensive, unbecoming of someone holding your rank.”
“If you think to drive a wedge between us, your efforts would be better spent elsewhere,” Dag replied.
“Ah, he speaks. The chieftain who was nowhere to be found when the king passed. Perhaps the snake is you.” Rial straightened himself up as those around Dag with exchanged glances of suspicion with one another. Discord was sewn amongst them.
“Or perhaps, our princess. As with the commander, her brother’s crown falls to her. Would she not have wanted to see him pass? After all, contempt is a dangerous thing and yours I’ve seen with my own eyes.” Alira’s face grew red at the notion she would relish the death of her brother. “Then again, fratricide is not the easiest thing to carry out but is made all the more so when no one is there to witness it. I would caution you princess, that you may not know those around you as well as you might think. Now, with the first great defeat dealt, all that’s left to do is wait.”
Alira looked around when no one replied, everyone in the hall was stone-faced and expressionless. She stood up and addressed Rial, “wait, for what?”
“Either the annihilation of your forces, Lady Verbrandt, or the surrender of them.”
“I dare you to attack us again. This time we’re ready and will exact our vengeance.” Zahra spoke in a harsh tone toward the envoy. “This time, there will be no retreat for you. Planned or not, every Essean who crests that hill will be put to death.”
“We have only revealed a fraction of our true strength. The skirmish, one that cost so many lives, was a probing attack with our vanguard. Beyond this refuge waits the entire compliment of our force. Commander Ke’elle, if we tried to attack you again then we unleash our army of ten thousand soldiers who want nothing more than to see your heads separated from your shoulders.”
Ten... thousand... surely there is no such force. There can’t be. Audible gasps were heard throughout the hall. Aenne Aelle hadn’t seen a force that great in twenty years.
“It can all be avoided if you surrender, unconditionally. So much needless, senseless death and the waste of human lives can be spared. Lady Verbrandt, you still have the chance to give your people a future, a prosperous one at that. My lord, by order of our imperator, will see to it.”
Alira needed to hear the proposal. If there was a chance for peace, she wasn’t going to allow him to leave unless she heard it. “And what are the viscount’s terms?”
“Alira! I know what you’re hoping for, but this is madness.” Dag cautioned her against its pursuit.
“It is custom, let’s hear the terms,” she said.
“First, this city is to be abandoned. All it’s people shall empty, and the gates are to be felled. The pass will remain open henceforth, for eternity.”
“I’m done, I can’t listen to this anymore. We’re done here, see him out.” Dag stormed out of the hall, his guards behind him.
After the doors closed, Alira’s attention returned to Rial. “And the next?”
“Second, all armies south of the pass shall lay down their arms and their kingdom shall agree to be subjected to the rule of the Illyrian Empire. They will take the red banner and fight for the imperator when so called upon.”
Alira shifted in her seat, unnerved by the demand. “I will allow you to deliver one final term.”
“Alira, he’s spoken long enough. Do not entertain this serpent any longer.” If Alira were to ever lose the formal command her position had over Zahra at that moment, the meeting would be over in an instant.
“The third, Rial.”
“A lady of the ruling royal family of the southern kingdom will join our viscount in matrimony, uniting your kingdom with ours and entering the empire as our eighth. That daughter, Lady Verbrandt, I’m to assume is you?” She declined a response but offered a stern gaze. “Shall I inform lord Artim you’ll acquiesce to his demands?”
“You’ll tell your lord-” Zahra was cut off by Alira.
“Please inform lord Artim that I will need the evening to think on his demands. These terms would shape a new future for our kingdom. If you’ll be so kind as to wait, I shall have a response in the morning.”
“Many thanks to you, princess.” Rial bowed before an unmoved Alira and was escorted from the hall. As the doors shut behind him, she was set on by Zahra.
“What are you thinking!? You can’t believe it wise to meet these demands, to take away the last defense of Namelle and hand us over to Illyria.”
“It’s a lot to contemplate and would shape a new future for Namelle. Not only would their terms bring an end to these hostilities but may usher in prosperity.” She rose from her seat and refused to look at Zahra. “I must think about it further. Captain, if you’ll escort me outside, we have a funeral to attend.”