Still here, in case anyone was worried
So anyhow, others have mentioned the wedding from two weeks ago, it was beautiful and we all wish the best for Emambu and Steph they are a great couple and will continue to have a wonderful life together.
Work has already started to pick up in pace, must be some early bird shipper specials going on or people just getting a jump on things with the peak season looming.
Books, well graphic novels really, but still awesome. Got both issues so far of the Mass Effect GN I think there will only be 3 maybe 4 of them with ME3 scheduled to come out early next year.
Lots of sketches posted on my Deviant Art page if anyone has not checked lately.
annnnnd new story part, pretty good sized one.
No one else spoke up to offer information. The remaining prisoners were marched out into the shallows of the river, near the faster moving current. I watched from the littered pathway knowing full well what was about to happen next. I was most surprised by the fact that only two other Kanarians tried to struggle away from their fate. They were cut down without hesitation. The rest had their throats cut simultaneously, the water turning red as the dead and dying floated down stream and eventually out to the ocean. We disposed of the others from the battle in a similar fashion, their weapons policed up and carried back with us. That left only the fire, but no way to extinguish it with what we had and I could not even look at it without feeling as if I would fall to a million pieces. Red Knights would have to finish off the flames and sift through what remained, not that anything would be identifiable from another.
I did not have the strength to face Marie’s lifeless body. I could not look upon her and find the words to tell her that I had lost our son. Mercifully, my uncle, Fredris had wrapped Marie and moved her from the street. Fredris was doing his best to stay busy helping others with medical attention and erecting temporary shelters, anything to keep from thinking about what had just happened. Admittedly, I was more useless, left feeling empty. I stayed near Augustus at Edge’s suggestion, we both needed that proverbial shoulder to lean on. Augustus had the grind of being the new king to both distract and wear on him, I had nothing. I cannot remember if I ever ate anything, not for a day or more. I know I did not sleep, I couldn’t. Everything fell into a blur.
The following day we were all greeted with a forgotten surprise. The Carvassi had arrived a day early for Harvest Festival. I doubt anyone had remembered they were coming, but they had seen the smoke from as far away as the small village of Gurdy and rushed to the city. Without question, the traveling society of artist and craftsmen offered their hands and tools in recovery and repair of essential needs and sanitation. Many people can thank their timely rescue as well as the minimizing of the spread of disease to the Carvassi, which is something many others forgot, but that’s another story.
A service was held for King Areilius, a tomb created and erected for him and filled with a few cherished items I am told. Augustus spoke very little, but no one expected him to. Kou Gerstev performed a solo eulogy that was remarkably powerful, not an eye in attendance was dry. The people were allowed to pay their respects to the tomb, but there was little time for ceremony when so many other remains still needed to be attended to. Those that had been identified and had family survive them were given the choice of selecting a plot from the new cemetery created outside the east wall. The only catch being you had to dig the grave yourself and see to it that the remains were properly entombed. The unknown and those that could not be attended to we burned in as dignified a manner as possible. The pyres burned for days afterwards.
My uncle generously paid for Marie’s headstone, but I dug the hole alone and refused any help. Whether by choice or randomness, I was never told which, Edge dug a plot next to Marie’s for Alexis and Thash. He placed what could be recovered of his wife along with his ring and mementos of his son in the casket. We had only been married a short time and Marie had only brought what she could carry from her parent’s home, which had been destroyed. The only memento I had to give her was my southern marriage earring so I placed it upon Marie’s shrouded chest and sealed the latch. I collapsed at the foot of the grave in a heap of convulsing sobs, but I was not the only one. A young girl, who I had only met one other time before, wrapped her arms and wings around me and we sobbed together. Gaea and I stayed that way until Edge and Fredris recovered us some time later.
On the third day Bradigan committed suicide, but I do not recall any of us shedding a tear for him, we had none left by that point and too much still to do. Things were however beginning to show the barest signs of recovery as the Red Knights and Carvassi had extinguished all the fires and rerouted or repaired many of the damaged water pumps and lines. Tent housing was the norm for over half the city and Augustus chose to stay in one as well at the foot of the severely damaged palace, under guard of course. He refused any better comfort until the last of the tents were gone. It was the kind of gesture of solidarity the people needed and proof to the remaining and newly selected council members that the young king was not some spoil, pampered monarch the council could use as a puppet.
Our small home had only sustained minor fire damage, but Fredris refused to let me stay there alone. Word had traveled fast across the North Lands and many Darlanders arrived to offer aid and hands to rebuild the city. My mother had arrived at early evening on the third day after the attack, which had already been coined, “The Raid.” The name was appropriate and it stayed as such. While we as a people began to pick up the pieces and try to find reasons to continue living there was a furious cry for answers from the majority and on the fifth day, part of that truth was revealed. Naturally, we called this the Day of Revelation.
Augustus strolled casually through the damaged streets of Iris as he now did every morning just after breakfast. Edge absolutely hated that his new king did this, but consented to it as long as he had two knights or at least himself at all times. Augustus agreed and even assured his First Knight he would always do so in at least chest armor.
Strolling beside the teenage king was Kou Gerstev. Though no other Darlanders had titles of nobility, the carvassi had their own rules and quasi governing system in place. The title of Kou was bestowed upon the leader of the traveling society by the people and could be removed just as easily by vote. Gerstev had been Kou for ten years and no one seemed displeased enough with his decisions to call for a vote.
“How are your people settling in? I know they never stay in one place more than a few days so the change must be strange at best.”
Gerstev grunted, raking back his graying brown hair. “We are pleased to help our brothers and sisters. Your proposal to compensate for our labor and time will ease the tension in the camp. The caretakers were worried about the money, so it is good now. Some will be uncomfortable; they are not use to being still for so long.”
“Are you sure there are no other accommodation we can provide? Once the snow begins to fall I would think it would be uncomfortable in just tents and wagons.”
The slate gray Darlander chuckled that baritone laugh he had. “Not so cold here on coast, try crossing Upton Pass when sleet is freezing wheels and cutting faces. Then you will think it cold.” Gerstev paused to shout a greeting in the carvassi language to someone. Augustus did not know a single word of carvassi and appreciated it when they switched so he could understand them despite their accents. “Non, honestly, I think the hardest part of staying in Iris will be keeping everyone from going, how you say it… stir crazy? I will keep them busy as best I can, but there are certain towns everyone looks forward to visiting or performing for. But too bad. Lord Areilius was always very good to us, very welcoming. This will I hope be good for everyone. The king needs hands to build and we have strong hands.”
Augustus nodded. “Shelter is the primary concern with the cold approaching in just a few months, but I am also being pressured heavily by the council to get the shipyard and port back up to operation. While it is damaged and all foreign ships forbidden to enter our harbor we have raw materials piling up from the barges up river and no revenue coming in. Also, I am having to fend off a wave of furor to mobilize for a counter offensive. As if we have the people or the resources.”
“People are angry, that is to be expected. So many dead thirst for blood will run high for some time.”
Augustus grunted in agreement. “My personal, primary concern is for all the children who lost their families. I thank you again for asking to care for so many orphans.”
“This is no problem at all. In fact, it is great benefit to our people to enrich our bloodlines as well as our hearts. No child should be left out and not know what it means to have family. You may be unaware, but we were badly devastated by a food born illness only a few years ago. Many died, especially our children. I was most fortunate that my sons and adopted daughter were spared, but others… this will help those who grieved in ways that cannot be said.”
“Otet.”
The strolling group stopped as Gerstev turned and dropped to a knee, a grin on his face and tattooed arms wide. He hugged the young, black haired girl who returned the embrace. She continued to speak in carvassi and the kou listened with great interest.
“Kai, that will be fine. Tell them to separate the materials into piles we can use and another for scrap.” Gerstev stood, his hand on the girl’s shoulder. “My lord Augustus, may I introduce you to my daughter, Delazule.”
Augustus took the girl’s hand and nodded while she bowed politely. She could not have been much more than ten or eleven, but she had a sparkle to those dark obsidian eyes, wisdom beyond her tender years. “I am honored.”
“My lord,” she said in a very thick accent. The ocean blue Darlander turned and returned to whatever she had been doing before.
“A lovely girl you have there.”
Gerstev nodded. “She has been a great joy to my family and a wonderful example of how well we take care of those who have lost everything. I have no doubt there are still many who think we are stealing these children and raising them as heathen vagabonds.”
Augustus shrugged. “They can think what they want, but in the end the children’s wellbeing comes first. Otherwise the critics can feed, clothe, and rebuild a schools out of their own damn pockets.”
Gerstev flashed a toothy grin, but the smile soon faded. “I just noticed. Where is your friend, the one with the long face?”
“Solaire has not been doing well, he’s lost weight and I don’t know if he has slept more than a few hours if at all. His mother arrived the other day so at least I know someone is watching him. That helps me sleep at night.”
Gerstev nodded, empathy behind those hazel eyes. “It is tough right now; we all need to be tough if we want to survive.”
“Honestly, losing Marie and Ganymede, I do not know if he wants to survive.”
“He needs a reason to live. If he cannot find one then you need to give him one, that is what a good friend would do.”
Augustus chewed on the advice silently as the leaders continued their stroll.
* * * * *Rhea had nearly fainted at the sight of Iris when she had arrived days ago. The smell of burning bodies had been enough to make her vomit, which she had twice, then proceeded to find her son and brother. Thankfully, she found both alive, but far from well. Rhea was appalled at the news of what the Kanarian raiders had done and the atrocity of killing children. The red Darlander was thankful that her husband had convinced her that it would be best if he remain scarce in the mountain towns. Rhea doubted he would have survived more than a day given the anti Kanarian animosity throughout the city.
After helping where needed in the city, Rhea returned to her brother’s home to keep watch on her son and allow Fredris to return to his shop. The balding Darlander had offered to watch Solaire in the iron works, but Rhea had slapped down the idea. Afraid that her son was not in the right frame of mind to do any work with deadly hot iron and bone smashing tools.
“I stopped by your home, everything still looked in order. I am very surprised that the looting has remained so isolated. Edge must be working his poor knights to death. Did you sleep at all?” Rhea asked, stocking the pantry with what little there was to buy. Solaire was sitting at the table, face nearly touching the wood as he stared at his cup of water. His eyes were bloodshot, his vermillion skin a shade more pale than it should be, and his jaw and neck were rough with days old growth scruff.
“I think I may have napped, I don’t know.”
Rhea nodded, fighting back her own tears. “It was difficult, but I was able to collect all the ingredients to make three eyed grum and even got my hands on some fresh ground meat. I know you always love my grum.”
Solaire nodded ever so slightly. “Marie never had a chance to taste your fresh grum.” The teenager began to shake as he pulled at his oily and unruly hair. He did not bother to fight the tears anymore.
The red Darlander was about to speak when a knocking at the door stopped her in mid thought. “Were you expecting anyone?”
Solaire glanced through his hair and shook his head.
Rhea opened the door casually and her pleasant demeanor vanished in a lightning flash, her hips shifted and arms crossed. “Vargis.”
Marie’s stepfather scowled, clearly not anticipating to see the former royal caretaker standing in the doorway. The councilman clamped his slack jaw and appeared to reassess his first reaction thoughts. His clothes seemed more worn than any other time she had seen him, but even after the horrific damage wrought upon the city the councilman still found time to make himself presentable.
“May I help you?” Rhea said in the least helpful tone she could manage.
“I am looking for your son. I did not see him with the king and no one answered the door at his hovel. I assume he has not expired?”
Rhea scowled even harder. “You should choose your words more considerately when speaking about my son, Vargis.”
“I have neither the time nor the care to be polite to you or him. I have taken the time out of my full schedule of duties to take care of a personal legal matter that involves your son.”
“Taken the time for a legal matter? But could not take the time to see your daughter when she was pregnant or your grandson’s birth? You have very poor priorities.”
Vargis pushed his way in marching up to the table where Solaire sat listening to the venomous exchange. Vargis had not changed much, his hair was still well kept, his face well shaven. His eyes, however seemed colder, darker, more distant than before. Everyone had seen horrible carnage so the look was not uncommon.
Without salutation or small talk Vargis slapped a three page document down before Solaire. “I need you to sign this, all three pages where indicated.”
Solaire cleared his throat, his voice still hoarse from all the screaming days before. “What is it?”
“A legal exemption. As Marie’s husband you would have been entitled to all her remaining worldly possessions as well as the financial accounts I had set aside for her. By signing this you give up your right to those assets.”
“You… you think I wanted her for her money?”
“No,” Vargis paused, closing his eyes for a moment. “I know she wanted out of the arrangement I had created for her and I know that she loved you, I saw it in her eyes. However, it does not change the fact that I never liked you, I did not like that you both went behind my back, and I certainly did not like that you made a fool of me in front of the council and king.”
Solaire threw back his chair, leaning into the older Darlander’s face. “Do you even care that she is gone?! My uncle had to pay for her headstone and where the hell were you?! You never even came by to say goodbye!”
“Paying for two other funerals and headstones.”
Solaire stepped back, jaw slack with a loss for words. It had not even occurred to him that Vargis might have lost others as well given the size of his family. They were all becoming numb to death and there was something very wrong with that. “I’m sorry. I did not know.”
“My home was one of the first struck, all the council member’s homes were attacked. I was on my way back from my morning stroll when the bombs fell. My wife and my daughter, Ginna, were killed when the walls and ceiling collapsed upon them. My grandson was with his father on the east side of the city and thankful spared.”
Rhea’s features softened, bowing her head. “My condolences, councilman.”
“I do not want your sympathy or your apologies. I want your son out of my damn life. So do us both a favor, boy, sign the papers so that I never have to see you again.”
Solaire retrieved his chair and gave the pages a quick scan through. He was not a lawyer, but the wording was simple and to the point. It was probably intended as an insult to the seventeen year old Darlander, but the lack of jargon was fine by him. Wordlessly, Solaire signed the pages and handed them back to Vargis. The councilman skimmed them once then let himself out without even bothering to close the door.
Rhea slammed the door just barely missing the politician’s tail in the door jam. “Jerk.”
“Heh.”
The red Darlander turned with her eyes wide and jaw hanging open. The sight of her son sitting at the table with even the slightest grin, more than he had displayed in days, brought tears to the mother’s eyes. “It’s good to see you smile.”
“Too bad he’s wrong. I will see him again, anytime I sit in council chambers with Augustus.” Solaire paused, stretching and pulling back his misbehaving hair. “I need to check on the king’s order.”
Before the young male could stand, his mother placed a plate of freshly fried meat surrounded by a variety of vegetables. “You need to eat, you need to shower, and you need to change your clothes. You will do those in that order or I will conk you on the head and shove the food down your throat. And you certainly do not want me to wash and change your clothes. I love you, my child, but you look terrible and smell worse.”
It had not even occurred to the teenager that he had not bathed in days with the water system badly damaged. Many had not properly washed themselves and the smell of burning and death still saturated everything. However, after a quick personal sniff Solaire agreed he was far too ripe to be in the presence of his friend and leader. It was generally a rule that when you can smell your own body odor it was pretty bad.
* * * * *Guard duty was usually one of the most boring jobs that a knight regular could be assigned. Everyone had to do it at one point or another it was part of the profession. Of course, now it was one of the most stressful duties assigned. Whether you were scanning the horizon for sails or watching the city for looters, many of which were just ordinary citizens trying to find materials to fix their own lives, patrols and guard duty were anything but restful and boring. Given the amount of shuffling about it was not unusual to see Darlanders pass overhead, especially carvassi, who had the endurance of a well oiled engine.
One thing the young knight had not anticipated however was the group of three Darlanders to land on the wall, two with the distinctive feathered wings of Nortes. The third seemed familiar, but he could not quite place the face.
“Wow, I never would have expected to see the Norte come all this way to help.”
“Where is your squad sergeant or Lieutenant?” The grass green Darlander demanded, still holding something wrapped in cloth close to his body.
“I was assigned to Sergeant Dana until the units can get reorganized. Honestly, I am not even sure I have a lieutenant. I certainly have not met one that claimed to be my superior.”
“Find Sergeant Dana or anyone else of authority and bring them to me.” The young knight scratched the back of his head reminding himself again that he needed to wash his oily hair something terrible. The hesitation was evident in his body language and the green Darlander snapped again. “Are you having trouble understanding me, knight?”
“I am not sure what the procedure on this is, I mean, I would hate to cause some sort of diplomatic incident or something, but we are real busy right now. I mean, is there not a councilman or mediator you would prefer to talk to?”
The green Darlander scowled, his basalt colored eyes were without waver. “Do what you are told, boy.”
“No offense, but who do you think you are to bark orders at me?” the knight fired back.
The two Nortes chuckled darkly, it was a very ominous sound. A glance from the leader silenced their enjoyment. “I am Prince Damen, rightful king to this land and you are about half a step from being in a grave if you do not find me someone of authority and I mean now.”
The knight regular had heard stories of the exiled prince, everyone had. Now that he could see it the resemblance to King Augustus was painfully obvious. Without another word the knight flew off.
Several minutes passed and a few bystanders who had witnessed the exchange stood and stared. The stopped gawkers piqued the interest of others and soon a small crowd was beginning to congregate at the base of the wall. Damen did not acknowledge their hails or even spare a glance. The boy finally returned with two battle worn knights in tow.
The towering male had burns in various places across his light blue colored skin and sported a bandage around his freshly shaven head. The female, like the male, had battered and nicked armor from battle, but was relatively unscathed except for a wrapping of bandages around her neck. The young woman’s piercing pearl colored eyes showed evidence of immediate recognition of the prince.
“Forgive me for being new, but as I understood it you were exiled by King Areilius and are subject to immediate imprisonment if you set foot in Iris. Correct me if I am wrong, my lord?”
Damen smiled, it was a disturbing and intimidated thing to see. “You are correct, Sir?”
“Lieutenant Furlow, sir.”
“Well, Sir Furlow, you have two options, but only one good choice to make. You can attempt to take me into custody, die doing so, and I will still go see my brother. Or, you can take me to Augustus, let him hear what I have to say, and keep you insignificant little life.” Dana tried to growl, a sick gurgling sound hissing from her throat. Furlow touched her shoulder pad and she retracted her hands that had moved instinctively for her weapon.
“I don’t have the time or the authority to deal with this,” Furlow said with an annoyed sigh. “Follow us, sir, the First Knight will have to decide what to do with you.”
“Lead on.”
* * * * *While there was still a gaping emptiness inside his being, Solaire did admit to feeling better after a warm meal and a refreshing shower. It was impossible to escape the crushing despair from all the destruction and loss of life, but as he walked beside his mother he could also see goodness and progress as clear as the sky above.
The king had dispatched messages around the kingdom, a call for assistance to any that wanted to make some money and help their fellow Darlanders. The teenager had been surprised to see that the Carvassi were the first to take the contract to help rebuild. Solaire had mixed feelings about the Carvassi, most did. The entertainers and artisans of the traveling culture never seemed interested in the lives of those they passed by every year other than making some money and trading for goods. Their arrival always accompanied a spike in criminal activity and alcohol related scuffles and violence, but people accepted that side effect since it was only for a few days. Now, the tattooed Darlanders would be in Iris for months if not years. The prospect of culture shock was inevitable on both sides of the wall.
The halfling teenager scowled as two shirtless Carvassi whistled and hailed his mother crudely. He could not understand every word they said as they switched between their language and imperial. Solaire paused for a moment as if to engage the older boys. Rhea nodded politely, but did not say a word to them as she tugged forcibly at her son’s arm. Solaire relented and they continued to walk.
“You deserve more respect than that.”
“They are just doing what stupid boys do and people will need to work together to get this city back to livable condition let alone the greatness it once was. Besides, when you get to my age the occasional whistle and crow as you pass is refreshing.” The remaining walk to Fredris’ work shop was uninterrupted.
After the Raid had ceased and the recovery effort was underway people began picking up the pieces of their shattered lives. Everyone had those irreplaceable items that reminded them of lost loved ones and history of their family linage and heritage. Augustus was no exception.
The Palace of the King of the Darlanders served as more than just the home to the royal family. The spacious and decorative complex also served as the home of their government, commercial trade, and center of defense. In addition, it was a gallery of Darlander art and history, the library filled with scraps and manuscripts, some hand copied from even more ancient text. The main concourse of the palace was a hub between the Knight Academy and the University of higher education and the perfect place to share the historical treasures. Mixed amongst all the hustle and items on display were mementos sacred to the new king. Beyond those glass encased memories though had been an irreplaceable item usually seen next to the throne, the King’s Sword.
The massive broadsword that his father had wielded had not originally belonged to him, or even to his grandfather. The sword had, in fact, originally belonged to a governor and prison warden named Balfore. Stories stated Darland had broken his chains in an effort to save the woman he loved who was being dragged away by Balfore for execution. Darland, his wings shredded like all slave Darlanders, had to fight pass several guards and eventually smashed Balfore’s head in with a rock. The future leader of the rebellion claimed the warden’s sword and had ever since been the symbol of leadership for the linage of kings.
With the assistance of the Red Knights, Augustus found the King’s Sword in the ruins of his father’s chambers. The blade had been damaged and the leather wrapped handle badly burned, but still intact. Upon the suggestion of many, Augustus presented the sword to Fredris and commissioned him to fix and refinish the sacred relic. The master sword maker took the job without hesitation.
“I’m glad to see you up and about again. You had us both worried.” Fredris said, his spectacles resting as usual on the bridge of his nose.
Solaire took the massive broadsword by the scabbard, sliding the blade out a few inches to admire the new finish before sliding it back. “I’m trying to keep it together as best I can.”
Rhea smiled. “I made him eat and he showered.”
“I can tell.”
Solaire bowed his head. “I never properly thanked you… well, for everything.”
Fredris coughed and made a shooing motion. “You’re family and right now that is more important than ever before. It was the least I could do for your suffering. But to be blunt to the subject, I could use a hand around the shop as soon as you are able.”
“I promise I will. I just need some time to clear my head of the… screams. Just enough so that I can sleep again.” Rhea, instinctively hugged her son around the neck, Solaire did not object.
“Come along then, your uncle is very busy and he promised to deliver this to King Augustus as soon as it was ready.” Rhea nodded to her brother. “Take care.”
“Say hello to Altas for me when you see him again, but tell him I still think he’s a prick.”
It had been an ongoing joke between her husband and brother since they had married. Rhea understood he was trying to lighten the mood and smiled in return. “Of course.”
* * * * *
A multi pole tent had been erected in the central square outside the palace, adjacent to the one where Augustus slept. The tent had to be large to support the seven members of the council as well as any support staff they brought along and at least two squads of knights when all members were present. It was still rare to have all seven members in the same place at once given the amount work still to do and personal agendas. Admittedly, most meetings were more a matter of mundane routine and did not require all heads to be present. Most days Augustus wished he did not have to be present as well.
Five councilmen had presented themselves for the latest iteration of the most heated debate going. Because of the topic, Janna had scheduled herself and Edge to stand in for the second squad while the others stood by silently bored out of their minds outside. Janna, who had always been in charge of the duty rosters, had stretched herself thin making sure that whenever possible she could find time to be at the First Knight’s side. The gesture had not been subtle nor had it been intended to be.
King Augustus sat at the head of the tent, sitting in a comfortable chair, his chin being supported by his palm as newly elected councilman, Boske, once again ranted and demanded a call to arms for counter offensive. At least this time he brought data and charts, the king thought.
“Once the port has reopened we will be able to start mooring the cargo vessels so as to refit them for the journey as troop transports. I have estimated with accuracy that one hundred able body fighters could survive comfortably on two barrels of water a day for the journey which would cut the need for heavy food supplies. This would in fact increase the speed of travel by twelve percent given the prevailing winds this time of year, cutting the loss to the ship owner by nearly fifty percent!”
“Still same problem you overlook.” The councilman glared with a furor at the leader of the Carvassi who was allowed to sit at the king’s side. An arrangement that many council member found insulting though none admitted to it publicly. “Even with merchant ships you will never find enough bodies to fill them. Carvassi number nearly a thousand, but many are too young to fight.”
“We are Darlanders, we were molded by the gods themselves to fight. Besides, they wanted to kill our children, there is no better time than now for them to learn to fight.”
Kou Gerstev muttered something in carvassi while he pretended to cough.
Augustus’ posture changed, his attention diverted as two familiar faces entered the tent. The king had to fight the urge to leap over to his best friend and clasp him on the shoulders. The last time he had seen Solaire the younger boy had been crying his broken heart out through his eyes, hands wrapped in bandages, hair singed, and open wounds still left bleeding and untreated. It did the young leader’s heart good to see he was better if not well.
Edge had also noticed the pair and silently gestured for them to stand by him in the shadows behind the council. Rhea lead the way and had to steel her facial expressions at the sight of the First Knight. He did not look much better than her son had earlier. His armor was still scuffed and unpolished with dried blood stains on it. His hair was uncared for and seemed to be more streaked with gray than ever. He too had not shaven and sported very dark circle under those piercing green eyes.
“Sir Tolson, how are you fairing?” Rhea whispered.
The First Knight shrugged while still keeping his eyes on the council. “It’s day to day that is the most honest way I can word it.”
“If there is anything I can do to help, please do not hesitate to ask. I will have to return to my husband in a few weeks, but in the mean time I am capable of helping more than just my son.”
Edge nodded approvingly. “He looks much better than last I saw him.”
Rhea smiled serenely, he attention diverted to the rant in progress. “So, I take it despite dissidents most people have no desire for war?”
“Hard to say. Most days I see the anger being diverted to better things then we find more bodies and it starts all over again.” Rhea could only nod sympathetically.
“Your father would not have hesitated! Lord Areilius understood there is a time for words and a time for action!” Augustus visibly stiffened at the accusation by Councilman Boske. Janna uncrossed her arms, prepared to intervene if things became physical.
A young, but well known new councilman stood, his hands gesturing for calm. “I think I can speak from experience that we have no idea what our fathers would really do in our situation.” Boske glared are Farro, the eldest son of the late Iron Baron, Vetter.
“Perhaps the new king needs a reminder of how his father dealt with situations from someone who was on the receiving end of his discipline.” Everyone’s attention was diverted to the tent entrance. Most gasped, some murmured, but the unexpected appearance of the grass green Darlander accompanied by two Nortes put no one at ease. Least of all King Augustus.
“Damen.”
“Hello, brother. You look… distinguished.” The prince smiled. “Has my timing been impeccable?”
Augustus stood, taking two steps closer. It have been seven years since he had last seen his brother at the time of his trial and banishment. The sons of Areilius both had their father’s bluish hair with striking obsidian eyes. Both were handsome and tall, but Augustus’ pigment was closer to their father compared to the lighter tone of Damen. The similarities ended there.
“You know being here that you are subject to father’s decree of arrest.”
“Ah,” Damen threw back his cloak and Rhea could not keep from gasping. “But I have great reasons for being here. First off being this little guy.”
Augustus was unsure what his brother was playing at and raised his hands to signal Edge and Janna to stand down from their aggressive stances. The two Nortes, however remained at Damen’s sides watching the knights.
“Cute wouldn’t you say? Less than a year old my caretakers tell me. I only know his name from the blanket he was wrapped in when I rescued him along with three others. They were in a sack screaming, tussled about by a group of Kanarians. The Kanarians are dead, you’re welcome.”
Without a word, Rhea strode pass the council who were all still sitting dumbstruck at the return of the exiled prince. Edge made a half hearted attempted to reach for her arm, but she easily evaded. Damen smiled at his former caretaker, his expression one of surprise.
“I apologize, I did not see you there.”
“You have much worse things to apologize for.”
Damen’s heart skipped a beat, a sudden wave of heat flashing through him. Did they know? Rhea extended her arms as a silent demand for the child. Augustus stared over the red Darlander, his one eye unmoved by the distraction. Damen released the child who began to scream as only a three month old can when they are disturbed from the content warmth of a familiar body. She rocked the plum colored infant to comfort him, taking a moment to examine the name sewn into his blanket. Bolton. She did not recognize it, but had not expected to.
Augustus gently touched Rhea’s shoulder, nudging her back out of the way. She took it as her cue to return to the edge of the tent. “
What do you want, Damen?”
“To begin with or overall?” Augustus did not respond. “To start with I wanted to pay respects to my father. Despite our… past disagreements he was still my father too. Afterwards I want a sit down with you to discuss how I can help you.”
Augustus crossed his arms. “There is nothing to discuss. You tried to kill our father when you were seventeen and instead of executing or imprisoning you he cast you out. When I asked him about it later he told me it was his hope that some time on your own would humble you, but it never did and you never asked for forgiveness.”
“Because he never would have given it,” Damen’s expression softened, “but you can.”
“Elaborate.”
“The banishment was father’s will and King Areilius is now gone. You are king now so allow me the opportunity he would not. Allow me to return with my honor and I bring with me an entire legion of Norte tribes.”
“Along with all the other criminals and murderers you harbor?” Damen scowled at Gerstev whose craggy face seemed even more dark and pitted than it had moments before. “And they call us thieves and ruffians, but your bandits attack and steal from us in the night. How many times have they stabbed elderly in the back when they are not watching or raped a young girl or boy? Do you even know what they do?”
The image of backstabbing sent a cold shiver down Solaire’s spine, his hands tingling as if he could once again feel Marie’s warm blood slipping through his fingers. As children, Solaire never spent much time around Damen. The elder prince considered it beneath him to play games with his little brother and his “half breed” best friend. Rhea had once cuffed the prince upside the head for deliberately insulting Solaire in earshot and when the boy had run to his father to tattle on what a “mere servant” had done Areilius bellowed a laugh that echoed throughout the halls. Damen had not found the situation amusing and the seeds had been sown for future dissident.
“You are going to take the word of a bunch of wandering caravanners over mine?”
“My knights have skirmished with your followers to the north on numerous occasions over the years, some have died. I read the reports right alongside the intelligence commander.”
“And you never had any trouble with caravanners or had that report slipped off Sir Bradigan’s desk?” Damen raked back his bluish hair, a telltale he was becoming frustrated since they were kids. “We are getting off topic now. The simple fact is you need help and I have it.”
Augustus scratched at the left side of his face. He was still getting use to the eye patch and frustration and anger only made the wound itch more. “We have help.”
Damen’s pleasant expression vanished. “You cannot be serious.”
“I know you, I know you do not do a damn thing out of the kindness of your heart. You tried to kill our father, you promised the Norte gods know what to help you, and here you come flying in on wings of charity asking for forgiveness. So, tell me what the hell you really want or get out of my city.”
“Fine. I will tell you, but you will not like it.”
Augustus had to smirk at the statement. “No surprise.”
“I want to hunt down the bastards that did this. I want to reorganize our entire outlook on the world and isolate our people from the Kanarian threat. No imports, no exports. We grow our own food, build our own materials, and rebuild our forces to be ready to deploy anywhere along our borders including the islands. If necessary, push those borders even farther out to sea. Put simply, I want to cut us free from the rest of Kanar.”
“We are in no condition to fight a war and even if we were who would you have us attack? Last I checked we were still the minority population. We are outnumbered and lacking in every possible provision for an assault this close to winter even if we had sufficient evidence of who instigated the Raid.”
“Are you certain your people feel that way, my lord?” Damen’s tone was sardonic and uncomfortably threatening. The council, who had remained silent during the entire exchange, began to whisper and shift.
“Are you questioning my ability to lead the people?”
“Why not?” The whispers ceased as several breaths were held. “I am a descendant of Darland as well; I have just as much claim to the throne as you. I would dare say more. I have lived out among the people of this land, I know how they feel about Iris and the government of the wealthy. In fact, I think it is fair to say I control more of the north passages than your knights do. My people are the ones who respond first when pirates come ashore looking for supplies and food while your knights bumble around having to ask what to do and quiver at the thought of actual combat. When threatened I respond with appropriate reciprocation. What experience do you have? Lost an eye in a street fight? Well I doubt it will help you see the truth of the threat we face more clearly. Our wounded nation cries out for blood and if you will not answer the call of the people to arms then obviously a new leader is needed to take up the cause.”
Augustus growled, clenching his fists. “I won’t let you split us. I did not watch our father murdered alongside countless civilians I never had the chance to know. I will gladly kill both of us before I see more lives lost to civil war!”
“You are a fool and you should have died! You were supposed to die!”
It was obvious by the widening of his eyes Damen had not meant to say that, but it was too late. Conclusions were already being drawn. The first to break the silence of the revelation came from an unlikely source.
“It was you.”
Damen glanced at the half Darlander he had known years ago as his brother’s best friend, the name escaping him at the moment. The boy stepped forward and threw off the hands of both his mother and the First Knight, stalking closer to the wayward prince. Damen could also see the younger boy was clenching what appeared to be his father’s sword still in scabbard with white knuckle rage.
Rashendahl placed his hand on the handle of his sword, switching his footing as Solaire continued his slow approach. “The shit blood dares to speak.”
“The first strikes were aimed at the palace and the homes of the council, I could hear them as they passed over. There was no way a pirate who had never set foot in Iris proper could have known where to attack without help.”
“Our homes were struck as well,” Janna said, her own hands moving towards weapons. “If any of us had been asleep we would have died instantly.”
Edge growled. “A decapitation strike. Kill the king and prince, the council, and the senior officers and there would be no one left to oppose your return. The masses would have been too overwhelmed with grief to even consider the possibility of your involvement.”
Damen tensed, his eyes darting back and forth between the surrounding faces. The situation was crumbling quickly. “It was not my fault, I was duped. The strikes were not intended to be so wide spread. I never wanted so many people to die.”
Augustus clenched his fists to control the shaking, but failed. “You stupid… who duped you? Who did you give the information to?”
“It was a fake name, I’m sure of it.”
Augustus gestured for Edge and Janna to stop moving and they did so, but only just barely. Solaire continued to creep closer. “Give me the name.”
“He called himself Thane. He was Westlander, that I am all but certain of. I will find him, I swear it.”
“You murdered them.”
Augustus gestured to his friend to stop, but it was too late. The king knew that look, he had seen it during the Raid. Solaire was no longer listening and about to explode. The two Darlander Nortes turned from the knights to focus on the halfling.
“Back off, half blood,” Damen growled, still trying to remember the boy’s name.
“You lowered our defenses at the lighthouse; you gave them the means to rain hell on your own people. YOU KILLED MY WIFE AND SON!”
“Your what?”
Solaire threw off the scabbard and charged while loosing a deathly scream. Edge and Janna charged as well. The petite Darlander threw two knives that were skillfully deflected and drew her fighting knives, driving back the black haired Norte while Edge struck at the brown one with a Mohawk cut. Solaire had eyes only for Damen.
The vermilion teenager brought the sword down in a cleaving strike that was slow and easily deflected. Damen swung his gladus with one hand blocking two more strikes before disarming Solaire, the broadsword sliding to Augustus. The king took up his father’s sword, the heavy blade feeling unusual in his hands.
Solaire clawed at Damen’s face, but the prince was keeping the halfling pinned on the ground with his foot with sword still raised. Rhea screamed her son’s name and the baby began to cry, bringing pause to Damen’s strike. Despite his perilous position the teenager continued to struggle ferociously. Terragahl cried out as Janna slashed his forearm causing the Norte to drop his sword.
“Let him go, Damen.”
Damen glanced back to find his brother holding the King’s Sword on guard and ready to initiate a duel. He was out of options. “I think that’s quite enough.” Damen unfastened his vest, pulling it open to display its hidden contents. The scuffle ceased instantly. Dangling from three rows of fabric ties were bombs that were strikingly similar to the ones Sub Commander Dillon had created during the Raid, all attached to a single pull key at the end of the vest.
“He’s gone mad!”
Damen ignored the high pitched cry from a council member. “I did not plan to kill any of you during this little excursion, but I also had no intention of going to a prison cell in case things became… unwelcoming. If I have to kill everyone under this canvas then so be it, but for the sake of good intentions why doesn’t everyone just take a deep breath and back down. Especially you.” His last words aimed directly at Solaire, whose neck was bleeding slightly from the sword pressed against it. Augustus was the first to lower his sword, gently placing it on the ground. Edge and Janna followed suit by sheathing their weapons.
“As I was saying,” Damen stated calmly, “A scout team brought me a message to meet. The plan was for you to die and I would unite the Norte with the rest of the people. We would isolate ourselves from the iron hungry dogs, becoming completely free from our old masters.”
“But they never intended to let you rule. You were just an instrument and they played you. My family is dead because your greed.”
Damen arched a brow ridge and looked down. “What are you, fifteen? Why would you even have a wife?”
“Marie,” Solaire growled, crawling out from under the prince. “Her name was Marie and we had a son named Ganymede. The raiders took him and burned him alive because that was what they were told to do. Kill our women and children first without mercy. It was never intended to be a battle, it was to be a slaughter.”
“Ganymede?” Damen turned his attention to Rhea who still held the rescued child tightly to her chest. He shook his head and met his brother’s gaze. “This can only end one of two ways.”
“I will find you someday. Someday I will either have you tried or have your head on my wall, but you will answer for this, this I swear.”
Damen smirked. “Attrition was how we won our freedom generations ago and I am well practiced at it. You could call it my specialty so if you want to waste the lives of your precious followers then do so, send them to my mountains, I will send back souvenirs of their deaths for next of kin.”
“Get the fuck out of my city.”
Carefully, Prince Damen withdrew with his two followers. The moment they were outside they were airborne. Edge followed at a distance, but only so much as to ensure they really were actually retreating. He could have called for an archer, but had no intention of taking the bait for a pursuit with those grenades at his disposal. They had lost too many young soldiers already. Back inside, the council gathered itself in the corner for hushed debates while Augustus recovered his sword and friend from the floor. Solaire bore the expression of utter defeat and shame, fighting back tears. Rhea quickly hugged her son and promptly slapped him in the face. The jarring sensation caused the teen to jump, his glassy brown eyes suddenly wide.
“I swear you must have a death wish, he could have killed you. Your death will not bring them back, how many times do I have to tell you that?!”
Solaire bowed his head, cheek turning a shade of red similar to her skin tone. “I’m sorry, mother.”
She hugged her son again. “And you scratched the Kings Sword that Fredris just refinished. Your uncle is going to skin you for that.”
Augustus shrugged, sheeting the broadsword. “I would not fret over it, Lady Rhea. I have a good feeling it’s going to receive more scratches sooner than later.”
Work has already started to pick up in pace, must be some early bird shipper specials going on or people just getting a jump on things with the peak season looming.
Books, well graphic novels really, but still awesome. Got both issues so far of the Mass Effect GN I think there will only be 3 maybe 4 of them with ME3 scheduled to come out early next year.
Lots of sketches posted on my Deviant Art page if anyone has not checked lately.
annnnnd new story part, pretty good sized one.
No one else spoke up to offer information. The remaining prisoners were marched out into the shallows of the river, near the faster moving current. I watched from the littered pathway knowing full well what was about to happen next. I was most surprised by the fact that only two other Kanarians tried to struggle away from their fate. They were cut down without hesitation. The rest had their throats cut simultaneously, the water turning red as the dead and dying floated down stream and eventually out to the ocean. We disposed of the others from the battle in a similar fashion, their weapons policed up and carried back with us. That left only the fire, but no way to extinguish it with what we had and I could not even look at it without feeling as if I would fall to a million pieces. Red Knights would have to finish off the flames and sift through what remained, not that anything would be identifiable from another.
I did not have the strength to face Marie’s lifeless body. I could not look upon her and find the words to tell her that I had lost our son. Mercifully, my uncle, Fredris had wrapped Marie and moved her from the street. Fredris was doing his best to stay busy helping others with medical attention and erecting temporary shelters, anything to keep from thinking about what had just happened. Admittedly, I was more useless, left feeling empty. I stayed near Augustus at Edge’s suggestion, we both needed that proverbial shoulder to lean on. Augustus had the grind of being the new king to both distract and wear on him, I had nothing. I cannot remember if I ever ate anything, not for a day or more. I know I did not sleep, I couldn’t. Everything fell into a blur.
The following day we were all greeted with a forgotten surprise. The Carvassi had arrived a day early for Harvest Festival. I doubt anyone had remembered they were coming, but they had seen the smoke from as far away as the small village of Gurdy and rushed to the city. Without question, the traveling society of artist and craftsmen offered their hands and tools in recovery and repair of essential needs and sanitation. Many people can thank their timely rescue as well as the minimizing of the spread of disease to the Carvassi, which is something many others forgot, but that’s another story.
A service was held for King Areilius, a tomb created and erected for him and filled with a few cherished items I am told. Augustus spoke very little, but no one expected him to. Kou Gerstev performed a solo eulogy that was remarkably powerful, not an eye in attendance was dry. The people were allowed to pay their respects to the tomb, but there was little time for ceremony when so many other remains still needed to be attended to. Those that had been identified and had family survive them were given the choice of selecting a plot from the new cemetery created outside the east wall. The only catch being you had to dig the grave yourself and see to it that the remains were properly entombed. The unknown and those that could not be attended to we burned in as dignified a manner as possible. The pyres burned for days afterwards.
My uncle generously paid for Marie’s headstone, but I dug the hole alone and refused any help. Whether by choice or randomness, I was never told which, Edge dug a plot next to Marie’s for Alexis and Thash. He placed what could be recovered of his wife along with his ring and mementos of his son in the casket. We had only been married a short time and Marie had only brought what she could carry from her parent’s home, which had been destroyed. The only memento I had to give her was my southern marriage earring so I placed it upon Marie’s shrouded chest and sealed the latch. I collapsed at the foot of the grave in a heap of convulsing sobs, but I was not the only one. A young girl, who I had only met one other time before, wrapped her arms and wings around me and we sobbed together. Gaea and I stayed that way until Edge and Fredris recovered us some time later.
On the third day Bradigan committed suicide, but I do not recall any of us shedding a tear for him, we had none left by that point and too much still to do. Things were however beginning to show the barest signs of recovery as the Red Knights and Carvassi had extinguished all the fires and rerouted or repaired many of the damaged water pumps and lines. Tent housing was the norm for over half the city and Augustus chose to stay in one as well at the foot of the severely damaged palace, under guard of course. He refused any better comfort until the last of the tents were gone. It was the kind of gesture of solidarity the people needed and proof to the remaining and newly selected council members that the young king was not some spoil, pampered monarch the council could use as a puppet.
Our small home had only sustained minor fire damage, but Fredris refused to let me stay there alone. Word had traveled fast across the North Lands and many Darlanders arrived to offer aid and hands to rebuild the city. My mother had arrived at early evening on the third day after the attack, which had already been coined, “The Raid.” The name was appropriate and it stayed as such. While we as a people began to pick up the pieces and try to find reasons to continue living there was a furious cry for answers from the majority and on the fifth day, part of that truth was revealed. Naturally, we called this the Day of Revelation.
Augustus strolled casually through the damaged streets of Iris as he now did every morning just after breakfast. Edge absolutely hated that his new king did this, but consented to it as long as he had two knights or at least himself at all times. Augustus agreed and even assured his First Knight he would always do so in at least chest armor.
Strolling beside the teenage king was Kou Gerstev. Though no other Darlanders had titles of nobility, the carvassi had their own rules and quasi governing system in place. The title of Kou was bestowed upon the leader of the traveling society by the people and could be removed just as easily by vote. Gerstev had been Kou for ten years and no one seemed displeased enough with his decisions to call for a vote.
“How are your people settling in? I know they never stay in one place more than a few days so the change must be strange at best.”
Gerstev grunted, raking back his graying brown hair. “We are pleased to help our brothers and sisters. Your proposal to compensate for our labor and time will ease the tension in the camp. The caretakers were worried about the money, so it is good now. Some will be uncomfortable; they are not use to being still for so long.”
“Are you sure there are no other accommodation we can provide? Once the snow begins to fall I would think it would be uncomfortable in just tents and wagons.”
The slate gray Darlander chuckled that baritone laugh he had. “Not so cold here on coast, try crossing Upton Pass when sleet is freezing wheels and cutting faces. Then you will think it cold.” Gerstev paused to shout a greeting in the carvassi language to someone. Augustus did not know a single word of carvassi and appreciated it when they switched so he could understand them despite their accents. “Non, honestly, I think the hardest part of staying in Iris will be keeping everyone from going, how you say it… stir crazy? I will keep them busy as best I can, but there are certain towns everyone looks forward to visiting or performing for. But too bad. Lord Areilius was always very good to us, very welcoming. This will I hope be good for everyone. The king needs hands to build and we have strong hands.”
Augustus nodded. “Shelter is the primary concern with the cold approaching in just a few months, but I am also being pressured heavily by the council to get the shipyard and port back up to operation. While it is damaged and all foreign ships forbidden to enter our harbor we have raw materials piling up from the barges up river and no revenue coming in. Also, I am having to fend off a wave of furor to mobilize for a counter offensive. As if we have the people or the resources.”
“People are angry, that is to be expected. So many dead thirst for blood will run high for some time.”
Augustus grunted in agreement. “My personal, primary concern is for all the children who lost their families. I thank you again for asking to care for so many orphans.”
“This is no problem at all. In fact, it is great benefit to our people to enrich our bloodlines as well as our hearts. No child should be left out and not know what it means to have family. You may be unaware, but we were badly devastated by a food born illness only a few years ago. Many died, especially our children. I was most fortunate that my sons and adopted daughter were spared, but others… this will help those who grieved in ways that cannot be said.”
“Otet.”
The strolling group stopped as Gerstev turned and dropped to a knee, a grin on his face and tattooed arms wide. He hugged the young, black haired girl who returned the embrace. She continued to speak in carvassi and the kou listened with great interest.
“Kai, that will be fine. Tell them to separate the materials into piles we can use and another for scrap.” Gerstev stood, his hand on the girl’s shoulder. “My lord Augustus, may I introduce you to my daughter, Delazule.”
Augustus took the girl’s hand and nodded while she bowed politely. She could not have been much more than ten or eleven, but she had a sparkle to those dark obsidian eyes, wisdom beyond her tender years. “I am honored.”
“My lord,” she said in a very thick accent. The ocean blue Darlander turned and returned to whatever she had been doing before.
“A lovely girl you have there.”
Gerstev nodded. “She has been a great joy to my family and a wonderful example of how well we take care of those who have lost everything. I have no doubt there are still many who think we are stealing these children and raising them as heathen vagabonds.”
Augustus shrugged. “They can think what they want, but in the end the children’s wellbeing comes first. Otherwise the critics can feed, clothe, and rebuild a schools out of their own damn pockets.”
Gerstev flashed a toothy grin, but the smile soon faded. “I just noticed. Where is your friend, the one with the long face?”
“Solaire has not been doing well, he’s lost weight and I don’t know if he has slept more than a few hours if at all. His mother arrived the other day so at least I know someone is watching him. That helps me sleep at night.”
Gerstev nodded, empathy behind those hazel eyes. “It is tough right now; we all need to be tough if we want to survive.”
“Honestly, losing Marie and Ganymede, I do not know if he wants to survive.”
“He needs a reason to live. If he cannot find one then you need to give him one, that is what a good friend would do.”
Augustus chewed on the advice silently as the leaders continued their stroll.
* * * * *Rhea had nearly fainted at the sight of Iris when she had arrived days ago. The smell of burning bodies had been enough to make her vomit, which she had twice, then proceeded to find her son and brother. Thankfully, she found both alive, but far from well. Rhea was appalled at the news of what the Kanarian raiders had done and the atrocity of killing children. The red Darlander was thankful that her husband had convinced her that it would be best if he remain scarce in the mountain towns. Rhea doubted he would have survived more than a day given the anti Kanarian animosity throughout the city.
After helping where needed in the city, Rhea returned to her brother’s home to keep watch on her son and allow Fredris to return to his shop. The balding Darlander had offered to watch Solaire in the iron works, but Rhea had slapped down the idea. Afraid that her son was not in the right frame of mind to do any work with deadly hot iron and bone smashing tools.
“I stopped by your home, everything still looked in order. I am very surprised that the looting has remained so isolated. Edge must be working his poor knights to death. Did you sleep at all?” Rhea asked, stocking the pantry with what little there was to buy. Solaire was sitting at the table, face nearly touching the wood as he stared at his cup of water. His eyes were bloodshot, his vermillion skin a shade more pale than it should be, and his jaw and neck were rough with days old growth scruff.
“I think I may have napped, I don’t know.”
Rhea nodded, fighting back her own tears. “It was difficult, but I was able to collect all the ingredients to make three eyed grum and even got my hands on some fresh ground meat. I know you always love my grum.”
Solaire nodded ever so slightly. “Marie never had a chance to taste your fresh grum.” The teenager began to shake as he pulled at his oily and unruly hair. He did not bother to fight the tears anymore.
The red Darlander was about to speak when a knocking at the door stopped her in mid thought. “Were you expecting anyone?”
Solaire glanced through his hair and shook his head.
Rhea opened the door casually and her pleasant demeanor vanished in a lightning flash, her hips shifted and arms crossed. “Vargis.”
Marie’s stepfather scowled, clearly not anticipating to see the former royal caretaker standing in the doorway. The councilman clamped his slack jaw and appeared to reassess his first reaction thoughts. His clothes seemed more worn than any other time she had seen him, but even after the horrific damage wrought upon the city the councilman still found time to make himself presentable.
“May I help you?” Rhea said in the least helpful tone she could manage.
“I am looking for your son. I did not see him with the king and no one answered the door at his hovel. I assume he has not expired?”
Rhea scowled even harder. “You should choose your words more considerately when speaking about my son, Vargis.”
“I have neither the time nor the care to be polite to you or him. I have taken the time out of my full schedule of duties to take care of a personal legal matter that involves your son.”
“Taken the time for a legal matter? But could not take the time to see your daughter when she was pregnant or your grandson’s birth? You have very poor priorities.”
Vargis pushed his way in marching up to the table where Solaire sat listening to the venomous exchange. Vargis had not changed much, his hair was still well kept, his face well shaven. His eyes, however seemed colder, darker, more distant than before. Everyone had seen horrible carnage so the look was not uncommon.
Without salutation or small talk Vargis slapped a three page document down before Solaire. “I need you to sign this, all three pages where indicated.”
Solaire cleared his throat, his voice still hoarse from all the screaming days before. “What is it?”
“A legal exemption. As Marie’s husband you would have been entitled to all her remaining worldly possessions as well as the financial accounts I had set aside for her. By signing this you give up your right to those assets.”
“You… you think I wanted her for her money?”
“No,” Vargis paused, closing his eyes for a moment. “I know she wanted out of the arrangement I had created for her and I know that she loved you, I saw it in her eyes. However, it does not change the fact that I never liked you, I did not like that you both went behind my back, and I certainly did not like that you made a fool of me in front of the council and king.”
Solaire threw back his chair, leaning into the older Darlander’s face. “Do you even care that she is gone?! My uncle had to pay for her headstone and where the hell were you?! You never even came by to say goodbye!”
“Paying for two other funerals and headstones.”
Solaire stepped back, jaw slack with a loss for words. It had not even occurred to him that Vargis might have lost others as well given the size of his family. They were all becoming numb to death and there was something very wrong with that. “I’m sorry. I did not know.”
“My home was one of the first struck, all the council member’s homes were attacked. I was on my way back from my morning stroll when the bombs fell. My wife and my daughter, Ginna, were killed when the walls and ceiling collapsed upon them. My grandson was with his father on the east side of the city and thankful spared.”
Rhea’s features softened, bowing her head. “My condolences, councilman.”
“I do not want your sympathy or your apologies. I want your son out of my damn life. So do us both a favor, boy, sign the papers so that I never have to see you again.”
Solaire retrieved his chair and gave the pages a quick scan through. He was not a lawyer, but the wording was simple and to the point. It was probably intended as an insult to the seventeen year old Darlander, but the lack of jargon was fine by him. Wordlessly, Solaire signed the pages and handed them back to Vargis. The councilman skimmed them once then let himself out without even bothering to close the door.
Rhea slammed the door just barely missing the politician’s tail in the door jam. “Jerk.”
“Heh.”
The red Darlander turned with her eyes wide and jaw hanging open. The sight of her son sitting at the table with even the slightest grin, more than he had displayed in days, brought tears to the mother’s eyes. “It’s good to see you smile.”
“Too bad he’s wrong. I will see him again, anytime I sit in council chambers with Augustus.” Solaire paused, stretching and pulling back his misbehaving hair. “I need to check on the king’s order.”
Before the young male could stand, his mother placed a plate of freshly fried meat surrounded by a variety of vegetables. “You need to eat, you need to shower, and you need to change your clothes. You will do those in that order or I will conk you on the head and shove the food down your throat. And you certainly do not want me to wash and change your clothes. I love you, my child, but you look terrible and smell worse.”
It had not even occurred to the teenager that he had not bathed in days with the water system badly damaged. Many had not properly washed themselves and the smell of burning and death still saturated everything. However, after a quick personal sniff Solaire agreed he was far too ripe to be in the presence of his friend and leader. It was generally a rule that when you can smell your own body odor it was pretty bad.
* * * * *Guard duty was usually one of the most boring jobs that a knight regular could be assigned. Everyone had to do it at one point or another it was part of the profession. Of course, now it was one of the most stressful duties assigned. Whether you were scanning the horizon for sails or watching the city for looters, many of which were just ordinary citizens trying to find materials to fix their own lives, patrols and guard duty were anything but restful and boring. Given the amount of shuffling about it was not unusual to see Darlanders pass overhead, especially carvassi, who had the endurance of a well oiled engine.
One thing the young knight had not anticipated however was the group of three Darlanders to land on the wall, two with the distinctive feathered wings of Nortes. The third seemed familiar, but he could not quite place the face.
“Wow, I never would have expected to see the Norte come all this way to help.”
“Where is your squad sergeant or Lieutenant?” The grass green Darlander demanded, still holding something wrapped in cloth close to his body.
“I was assigned to Sergeant Dana until the units can get reorganized. Honestly, I am not even sure I have a lieutenant. I certainly have not met one that claimed to be my superior.”
“Find Sergeant Dana or anyone else of authority and bring them to me.” The young knight scratched the back of his head reminding himself again that he needed to wash his oily hair something terrible. The hesitation was evident in his body language and the green Darlander snapped again. “Are you having trouble understanding me, knight?”
“I am not sure what the procedure on this is, I mean, I would hate to cause some sort of diplomatic incident or something, but we are real busy right now. I mean, is there not a councilman or mediator you would prefer to talk to?”
The green Darlander scowled, his basalt colored eyes were without waver. “Do what you are told, boy.”
“No offense, but who do you think you are to bark orders at me?” the knight fired back.
The two Nortes chuckled darkly, it was a very ominous sound. A glance from the leader silenced their enjoyment. “I am Prince Damen, rightful king to this land and you are about half a step from being in a grave if you do not find me someone of authority and I mean now.”
The knight regular had heard stories of the exiled prince, everyone had. Now that he could see it the resemblance to King Augustus was painfully obvious. Without another word the knight flew off.
Several minutes passed and a few bystanders who had witnessed the exchange stood and stared. The stopped gawkers piqued the interest of others and soon a small crowd was beginning to congregate at the base of the wall. Damen did not acknowledge their hails or even spare a glance. The boy finally returned with two battle worn knights in tow.
The towering male had burns in various places across his light blue colored skin and sported a bandage around his freshly shaven head. The female, like the male, had battered and nicked armor from battle, but was relatively unscathed except for a wrapping of bandages around her neck. The young woman’s piercing pearl colored eyes showed evidence of immediate recognition of the prince.
“Forgive me for being new, but as I understood it you were exiled by King Areilius and are subject to immediate imprisonment if you set foot in Iris. Correct me if I am wrong, my lord?”
Damen smiled, it was a disturbing and intimidated thing to see. “You are correct, Sir?”
“Lieutenant Furlow, sir.”
“Well, Sir Furlow, you have two options, but only one good choice to make. You can attempt to take me into custody, die doing so, and I will still go see my brother. Or, you can take me to Augustus, let him hear what I have to say, and keep you insignificant little life.” Dana tried to growl, a sick gurgling sound hissing from her throat. Furlow touched her shoulder pad and she retracted her hands that had moved instinctively for her weapon.
“I don’t have the time or the authority to deal with this,” Furlow said with an annoyed sigh. “Follow us, sir, the First Knight will have to decide what to do with you.”
“Lead on.”
* * * * *While there was still a gaping emptiness inside his being, Solaire did admit to feeling better after a warm meal and a refreshing shower. It was impossible to escape the crushing despair from all the destruction and loss of life, but as he walked beside his mother he could also see goodness and progress as clear as the sky above.
The king had dispatched messages around the kingdom, a call for assistance to any that wanted to make some money and help their fellow Darlanders. The teenager had been surprised to see that the Carvassi were the first to take the contract to help rebuild. Solaire had mixed feelings about the Carvassi, most did. The entertainers and artisans of the traveling culture never seemed interested in the lives of those they passed by every year other than making some money and trading for goods. Their arrival always accompanied a spike in criminal activity and alcohol related scuffles and violence, but people accepted that side effect since it was only for a few days. Now, the tattooed Darlanders would be in Iris for months if not years. The prospect of culture shock was inevitable on both sides of the wall.
The halfling teenager scowled as two shirtless Carvassi whistled and hailed his mother crudely. He could not understand every word they said as they switched between their language and imperial. Solaire paused for a moment as if to engage the older boys. Rhea nodded politely, but did not say a word to them as she tugged forcibly at her son’s arm. Solaire relented and they continued to walk.
“You deserve more respect than that.”
“They are just doing what stupid boys do and people will need to work together to get this city back to livable condition let alone the greatness it once was. Besides, when you get to my age the occasional whistle and crow as you pass is refreshing.” The remaining walk to Fredris’ work shop was uninterrupted.
After the Raid had ceased and the recovery effort was underway people began picking up the pieces of their shattered lives. Everyone had those irreplaceable items that reminded them of lost loved ones and history of their family linage and heritage. Augustus was no exception.
The Palace of the King of the Darlanders served as more than just the home to the royal family. The spacious and decorative complex also served as the home of their government, commercial trade, and center of defense. In addition, it was a gallery of Darlander art and history, the library filled with scraps and manuscripts, some hand copied from even more ancient text. The main concourse of the palace was a hub between the Knight Academy and the University of higher education and the perfect place to share the historical treasures. Mixed amongst all the hustle and items on display were mementos sacred to the new king. Beyond those glass encased memories though had been an irreplaceable item usually seen next to the throne, the King’s Sword.
The massive broadsword that his father had wielded had not originally belonged to him, or even to his grandfather. The sword had, in fact, originally belonged to a governor and prison warden named Balfore. Stories stated Darland had broken his chains in an effort to save the woman he loved who was being dragged away by Balfore for execution. Darland, his wings shredded like all slave Darlanders, had to fight pass several guards and eventually smashed Balfore’s head in with a rock. The future leader of the rebellion claimed the warden’s sword and had ever since been the symbol of leadership for the linage of kings.
With the assistance of the Red Knights, Augustus found the King’s Sword in the ruins of his father’s chambers. The blade had been damaged and the leather wrapped handle badly burned, but still intact. Upon the suggestion of many, Augustus presented the sword to Fredris and commissioned him to fix and refinish the sacred relic. The master sword maker took the job without hesitation.
“I’m glad to see you up and about again. You had us both worried.” Fredris said, his spectacles resting as usual on the bridge of his nose.
Solaire took the massive broadsword by the scabbard, sliding the blade out a few inches to admire the new finish before sliding it back. “I’m trying to keep it together as best I can.”
Rhea smiled. “I made him eat and he showered.”
“I can tell.”
Solaire bowed his head. “I never properly thanked you… well, for everything.”
Fredris coughed and made a shooing motion. “You’re family and right now that is more important than ever before. It was the least I could do for your suffering. But to be blunt to the subject, I could use a hand around the shop as soon as you are able.”
“I promise I will. I just need some time to clear my head of the… screams. Just enough so that I can sleep again.” Rhea, instinctively hugged her son around the neck, Solaire did not object.
“Come along then, your uncle is very busy and he promised to deliver this to King Augustus as soon as it was ready.” Rhea nodded to her brother. “Take care.”
“Say hello to Altas for me when you see him again, but tell him I still think he’s a prick.”
It had been an ongoing joke between her husband and brother since they had married. Rhea understood he was trying to lighten the mood and smiled in return. “Of course.”
* * * * *
A multi pole tent had been erected in the central square outside the palace, adjacent to the one where Augustus slept. The tent had to be large to support the seven members of the council as well as any support staff they brought along and at least two squads of knights when all members were present. It was still rare to have all seven members in the same place at once given the amount work still to do and personal agendas. Admittedly, most meetings were more a matter of mundane routine and did not require all heads to be present. Most days Augustus wished he did not have to be present as well.
Five councilmen had presented themselves for the latest iteration of the most heated debate going. Because of the topic, Janna had scheduled herself and Edge to stand in for the second squad while the others stood by silently bored out of their minds outside. Janna, who had always been in charge of the duty rosters, had stretched herself thin making sure that whenever possible she could find time to be at the First Knight’s side. The gesture had not been subtle nor had it been intended to be.
King Augustus sat at the head of the tent, sitting in a comfortable chair, his chin being supported by his palm as newly elected councilman, Boske, once again ranted and demanded a call to arms for counter offensive. At least this time he brought data and charts, the king thought.
“Once the port has reopened we will be able to start mooring the cargo vessels so as to refit them for the journey as troop transports. I have estimated with accuracy that one hundred able body fighters could survive comfortably on two barrels of water a day for the journey which would cut the need for heavy food supplies. This would in fact increase the speed of travel by twelve percent given the prevailing winds this time of year, cutting the loss to the ship owner by nearly fifty percent!”
“Still same problem you overlook.” The councilman glared with a furor at the leader of the Carvassi who was allowed to sit at the king’s side. An arrangement that many council member found insulting though none admitted to it publicly. “Even with merchant ships you will never find enough bodies to fill them. Carvassi number nearly a thousand, but many are too young to fight.”
“We are Darlanders, we were molded by the gods themselves to fight. Besides, they wanted to kill our children, there is no better time than now for them to learn to fight.”
Kou Gerstev muttered something in carvassi while he pretended to cough.
Augustus’ posture changed, his attention diverted as two familiar faces entered the tent. The king had to fight the urge to leap over to his best friend and clasp him on the shoulders. The last time he had seen Solaire the younger boy had been crying his broken heart out through his eyes, hands wrapped in bandages, hair singed, and open wounds still left bleeding and untreated. It did the young leader’s heart good to see he was better if not well.
Edge had also noticed the pair and silently gestured for them to stand by him in the shadows behind the council. Rhea lead the way and had to steel her facial expressions at the sight of the First Knight. He did not look much better than her son had earlier. His armor was still scuffed and unpolished with dried blood stains on it. His hair was uncared for and seemed to be more streaked with gray than ever. He too had not shaven and sported very dark circle under those piercing green eyes.
“Sir Tolson, how are you fairing?” Rhea whispered.
The First Knight shrugged while still keeping his eyes on the council. “It’s day to day that is the most honest way I can word it.”
“If there is anything I can do to help, please do not hesitate to ask. I will have to return to my husband in a few weeks, but in the mean time I am capable of helping more than just my son.”
Edge nodded approvingly. “He looks much better than last I saw him.”
Rhea smiled serenely, he attention diverted to the rant in progress. “So, I take it despite dissidents most people have no desire for war?”
“Hard to say. Most days I see the anger being diverted to better things then we find more bodies and it starts all over again.” Rhea could only nod sympathetically.
“Your father would not have hesitated! Lord Areilius understood there is a time for words and a time for action!” Augustus visibly stiffened at the accusation by Councilman Boske. Janna uncrossed her arms, prepared to intervene if things became physical.
A young, but well known new councilman stood, his hands gesturing for calm. “I think I can speak from experience that we have no idea what our fathers would really do in our situation.” Boske glared are Farro, the eldest son of the late Iron Baron, Vetter.
“Perhaps the new king needs a reminder of how his father dealt with situations from someone who was on the receiving end of his discipline.” Everyone’s attention was diverted to the tent entrance. Most gasped, some murmured, but the unexpected appearance of the grass green Darlander accompanied by two Nortes put no one at ease. Least of all King Augustus.
“Damen.”
“Hello, brother. You look… distinguished.” The prince smiled. “Has my timing been impeccable?”
Augustus stood, taking two steps closer. It have been seven years since he had last seen his brother at the time of his trial and banishment. The sons of Areilius both had their father’s bluish hair with striking obsidian eyes. Both were handsome and tall, but Augustus’ pigment was closer to their father compared to the lighter tone of Damen. The similarities ended there.
“You know being here that you are subject to father’s decree of arrest.”
“Ah,” Damen threw back his cloak and Rhea could not keep from gasping. “But I have great reasons for being here. First off being this little guy.”
Augustus was unsure what his brother was playing at and raised his hands to signal Edge and Janna to stand down from their aggressive stances. The two Nortes, however remained at Damen’s sides watching the knights.
“Cute wouldn’t you say? Less than a year old my caretakers tell me. I only know his name from the blanket he was wrapped in when I rescued him along with three others. They were in a sack screaming, tussled about by a group of Kanarians. The Kanarians are dead, you’re welcome.”
Without a word, Rhea strode pass the council who were all still sitting dumbstruck at the return of the exiled prince. Edge made a half hearted attempted to reach for her arm, but she easily evaded. Damen smiled at his former caretaker, his expression one of surprise.
“I apologize, I did not see you there.”
“You have much worse things to apologize for.”
Damen’s heart skipped a beat, a sudden wave of heat flashing through him. Did they know? Rhea extended her arms as a silent demand for the child. Augustus stared over the red Darlander, his one eye unmoved by the distraction. Damen released the child who began to scream as only a three month old can when they are disturbed from the content warmth of a familiar body. She rocked the plum colored infant to comfort him, taking a moment to examine the name sewn into his blanket. Bolton. She did not recognize it, but had not expected to.
Augustus gently touched Rhea’s shoulder, nudging her back out of the way. She took it as her cue to return to the edge of the tent. “
What do you want, Damen?”
“To begin with or overall?” Augustus did not respond. “To start with I wanted to pay respects to my father. Despite our… past disagreements he was still my father too. Afterwards I want a sit down with you to discuss how I can help you.”
Augustus crossed his arms. “There is nothing to discuss. You tried to kill our father when you were seventeen and instead of executing or imprisoning you he cast you out. When I asked him about it later he told me it was his hope that some time on your own would humble you, but it never did and you never asked for forgiveness.”
“Because he never would have given it,” Damen’s expression softened, “but you can.”
“Elaborate.”
“The banishment was father’s will and King Areilius is now gone. You are king now so allow me the opportunity he would not. Allow me to return with my honor and I bring with me an entire legion of Norte tribes.”
“Along with all the other criminals and murderers you harbor?” Damen scowled at Gerstev whose craggy face seemed even more dark and pitted than it had moments before. “And they call us thieves and ruffians, but your bandits attack and steal from us in the night. How many times have they stabbed elderly in the back when they are not watching or raped a young girl or boy? Do you even know what they do?”
The image of backstabbing sent a cold shiver down Solaire’s spine, his hands tingling as if he could once again feel Marie’s warm blood slipping through his fingers. As children, Solaire never spent much time around Damen. The elder prince considered it beneath him to play games with his little brother and his “half breed” best friend. Rhea had once cuffed the prince upside the head for deliberately insulting Solaire in earshot and when the boy had run to his father to tattle on what a “mere servant” had done Areilius bellowed a laugh that echoed throughout the halls. Damen had not found the situation amusing and the seeds had been sown for future dissident.
“You are going to take the word of a bunch of wandering caravanners over mine?”
“My knights have skirmished with your followers to the north on numerous occasions over the years, some have died. I read the reports right alongside the intelligence commander.”
“And you never had any trouble with caravanners or had that report slipped off Sir Bradigan’s desk?” Damen raked back his bluish hair, a telltale he was becoming frustrated since they were kids. “We are getting off topic now. The simple fact is you need help and I have it.”
Augustus scratched at the left side of his face. He was still getting use to the eye patch and frustration and anger only made the wound itch more. “We have help.”
Damen’s pleasant expression vanished. “You cannot be serious.”
“I know you, I know you do not do a damn thing out of the kindness of your heart. You tried to kill our father, you promised the Norte gods know what to help you, and here you come flying in on wings of charity asking for forgiveness. So, tell me what the hell you really want or get out of my city.”
“Fine. I will tell you, but you will not like it.”
Augustus had to smirk at the statement. “No surprise.”
“I want to hunt down the bastards that did this. I want to reorganize our entire outlook on the world and isolate our people from the Kanarian threat. No imports, no exports. We grow our own food, build our own materials, and rebuild our forces to be ready to deploy anywhere along our borders including the islands. If necessary, push those borders even farther out to sea. Put simply, I want to cut us free from the rest of Kanar.”
“We are in no condition to fight a war and even if we were who would you have us attack? Last I checked we were still the minority population. We are outnumbered and lacking in every possible provision for an assault this close to winter even if we had sufficient evidence of who instigated the Raid.”
“Are you certain your people feel that way, my lord?” Damen’s tone was sardonic and uncomfortably threatening. The council, who had remained silent during the entire exchange, began to whisper and shift.
“Are you questioning my ability to lead the people?”
“Why not?” The whispers ceased as several breaths were held. “I am a descendant of Darland as well; I have just as much claim to the throne as you. I would dare say more. I have lived out among the people of this land, I know how they feel about Iris and the government of the wealthy. In fact, I think it is fair to say I control more of the north passages than your knights do. My people are the ones who respond first when pirates come ashore looking for supplies and food while your knights bumble around having to ask what to do and quiver at the thought of actual combat. When threatened I respond with appropriate reciprocation. What experience do you have? Lost an eye in a street fight? Well I doubt it will help you see the truth of the threat we face more clearly. Our wounded nation cries out for blood and if you will not answer the call of the people to arms then obviously a new leader is needed to take up the cause.”
Augustus growled, clenching his fists. “I won’t let you split us. I did not watch our father murdered alongside countless civilians I never had the chance to know. I will gladly kill both of us before I see more lives lost to civil war!”
“You are a fool and you should have died! You were supposed to die!”
It was obvious by the widening of his eyes Damen had not meant to say that, but it was too late. Conclusions were already being drawn. The first to break the silence of the revelation came from an unlikely source.
“It was you.”
Damen glanced at the half Darlander he had known years ago as his brother’s best friend, the name escaping him at the moment. The boy stepped forward and threw off the hands of both his mother and the First Knight, stalking closer to the wayward prince. Damen could also see the younger boy was clenching what appeared to be his father’s sword still in scabbard with white knuckle rage.
Rashendahl placed his hand on the handle of his sword, switching his footing as Solaire continued his slow approach. “The shit blood dares to speak.”
“The first strikes were aimed at the palace and the homes of the council, I could hear them as they passed over. There was no way a pirate who had never set foot in Iris proper could have known where to attack without help.”
“Our homes were struck as well,” Janna said, her own hands moving towards weapons. “If any of us had been asleep we would have died instantly.”
Edge growled. “A decapitation strike. Kill the king and prince, the council, and the senior officers and there would be no one left to oppose your return. The masses would have been too overwhelmed with grief to even consider the possibility of your involvement.”
Damen tensed, his eyes darting back and forth between the surrounding faces. The situation was crumbling quickly. “It was not my fault, I was duped. The strikes were not intended to be so wide spread. I never wanted so many people to die.”
Augustus clenched his fists to control the shaking, but failed. “You stupid… who duped you? Who did you give the information to?”
“It was a fake name, I’m sure of it.”
Augustus gestured for Edge and Janna to stop moving and they did so, but only just barely. Solaire continued to creep closer. “Give me the name.”
“He called himself Thane. He was Westlander, that I am all but certain of. I will find him, I swear it.”
“You murdered them.”
Augustus gestured to his friend to stop, but it was too late. The king knew that look, he had seen it during the Raid. Solaire was no longer listening and about to explode. The two Darlander Nortes turned from the knights to focus on the halfling.
“Back off, half blood,” Damen growled, still trying to remember the boy’s name.
“You lowered our defenses at the lighthouse; you gave them the means to rain hell on your own people. YOU KILLED MY WIFE AND SON!”
“Your what?”
Solaire threw off the scabbard and charged while loosing a deathly scream. Edge and Janna charged as well. The petite Darlander threw two knives that were skillfully deflected and drew her fighting knives, driving back the black haired Norte while Edge struck at the brown one with a Mohawk cut. Solaire had eyes only for Damen.
The vermilion teenager brought the sword down in a cleaving strike that was slow and easily deflected. Damen swung his gladus with one hand blocking two more strikes before disarming Solaire, the broadsword sliding to Augustus. The king took up his father’s sword, the heavy blade feeling unusual in his hands.
Solaire clawed at Damen’s face, but the prince was keeping the halfling pinned on the ground with his foot with sword still raised. Rhea screamed her son’s name and the baby began to cry, bringing pause to Damen’s strike. Despite his perilous position the teenager continued to struggle ferociously. Terragahl cried out as Janna slashed his forearm causing the Norte to drop his sword.
“Let him go, Damen.”
Damen glanced back to find his brother holding the King’s Sword on guard and ready to initiate a duel. He was out of options. “I think that’s quite enough.” Damen unfastened his vest, pulling it open to display its hidden contents. The scuffle ceased instantly. Dangling from three rows of fabric ties were bombs that were strikingly similar to the ones Sub Commander Dillon had created during the Raid, all attached to a single pull key at the end of the vest.
“He’s gone mad!”
Damen ignored the high pitched cry from a council member. “I did not plan to kill any of you during this little excursion, but I also had no intention of going to a prison cell in case things became… unwelcoming. If I have to kill everyone under this canvas then so be it, but for the sake of good intentions why doesn’t everyone just take a deep breath and back down. Especially you.” His last words aimed directly at Solaire, whose neck was bleeding slightly from the sword pressed against it. Augustus was the first to lower his sword, gently placing it on the ground. Edge and Janna followed suit by sheathing their weapons.
“As I was saying,” Damen stated calmly, “A scout team brought me a message to meet. The plan was for you to die and I would unite the Norte with the rest of the people. We would isolate ourselves from the iron hungry dogs, becoming completely free from our old masters.”
“But they never intended to let you rule. You were just an instrument and they played you. My family is dead because your greed.”
Damen arched a brow ridge and looked down. “What are you, fifteen? Why would you even have a wife?”
“Marie,” Solaire growled, crawling out from under the prince. “Her name was Marie and we had a son named Ganymede. The raiders took him and burned him alive because that was what they were told to do. Kill our women and children first without mercy. It was never intended to be a battle, it was to be a slaughter.”
“Ganymede?” Damen turned his attention to Rhea who still held the rescued child tightly to her chest. He shook his head and met his brother’s gaze. “This can only end one of two ways.”
“I will find you someday. Someday I will either have you tried or have your head on my wall, but you will answer for this, this I swear.”
Damen smirked. “Attrition was how we won our freedom generations ago and I am well practiced at it. You could call it my specialty so if you want to waste the lives of your precious followers then do so, send them to my mountains, I will send back souvenirs of their deaths for next of kin.”
“Get the fuck out of my city.”
Carefully, Prince Damen withdrew with his two followers. The moment they were outside they were airborne. Edge followed at a distance, but only so much as to ensure they really were actually retreating. He could have called for an archer, but had no intention of taking the bait for a pursuit with those grenades at his disposal. They had lost too many young soldiers already. Back inside, the council gathered itself in the corner for hushed debates while Augustus recovered his sword and friend from the floor. Solaire bore the expression of utter defeat and shame, fighting back tears. Rhea quickly hugged her son and promptly slapped him in the face. The jarring sensation caused the teen to jump, his glassy brown eyes suddenly wide.
“I swear you must have a death wish, he could have killed you. Your death will not bring them back, how many times do I have to tell you that?!”
Solaire bowed his head, cheek turning a shade of red similar to her skin tone. “I’m sorry, mother.”
She hugged her son again. “And you scratched the Kings Sword that Fredris just refinished. Your uncle is going to skin you for that.”
Augustus shrugged, sheeting the broadsword. “I would not fret over it, Lady Rhea. I have a good feeling it’s going to receive more scratches sooner than later.”