Chapter 468: Chapter 465: Parley

Chapter 465: Parley

 

  A few weeks before the new moon…

 

  The tent flap rustled quietly as the archmage Dawn slipped into the tent. Marek was in the middle of training. The orichalcum spear swung with heavy movements as Marek walked through the familiar martial strikes. His shirt had been stripped off and his bare muscles were covered in sweat. The magestone lamps cast shadows over his wide back.

  Dozens of small scars covered his arms and torso, from where an enemy’s spell or weapon had managed to break through his Yellow scales. The defensive magic would usually stop most attacks, but after constant damage in a fight, even the mightiest of durability scales would crack. The scars on his body were a testament to the countless battles he had endured fighting for the valley.

  The ebon spear suddenly stopped mid-swing and Marek spun around, weapon at the ready. Dawn was standing in the corner of the tent, observing him silently.

  “Oh, it’s you…” He relaxed his shoulders and lowered the spear.

  “Don’t let me stop you,” she said coyly.

  He couldn’t help but smile. “Care for a closer look?”

  “...Perhaps some other time,” she smirked, though there was a trace of pain in her purple eyes.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Dawn walked around him, eyeing him up and down. “Your movements have become sharper, but you’re still stiff.”

  She was ignoring his question, but he decided to play along. “The spear is much heavier than it looks and every time I hold it pain shoots through my arm as if I were holding a burning block of ice. It’s the strangest sensation.”

  “Hm, that’s natural. Orichalcum weapons weren’t meant for mortals. Every mortal that has been accepted by an orichalcum weapon still struggles to wield it.”

  “I know. That’s why you gave a dire human like me the spear.”

  “Your dire physiology does give you an edge over others, but you’re still treating it just like a weapon. That spear is more than just a lump of strange metal.”

  “I’m aware,” he said frustratedly. “But it still hasn’t talked to me.”

  “It won’t talk in a voice per se. More like a feeling, or so I’ve read.”

  Marek held the spear up, “It still hasn’t told me its name.”

  “And yet it hasn’t rejected you. Patience, the spear has been dormant for thousands of years. With each battle you fight with it, the spear is slowly awakening. Give it more time and it will tell you its name.”

  Marek bowed his head in acquiescence. “Thanks for the advice, but I don’t think that’s why you came to my tent this late at night. What’s wrong?”

  “...My master has given my brother and me a new mission,” she admitted.

  “What sort of mission?” he asked suspiciously.

  “We are to escort a pair of the dragonbane to the chrome gate.”

  “The gate? But that’s on an island in the middle of Hoarfrost Bay! If you’re transporting the dragonbane by wagon it’ll take weeks to sail there and get back! You won’t be here for the invasion.”

  Dawn smiled. “Does that bother you?”

  “I’d feel a lot more assured if I had you by my side.”

  “I’m only one person. You have your armies. You have your siege weapons. Your soon-to-be bride will arrive with her armies as well. You even have the dragonbane and those strange construct creatures that my master has been building. Not to mention my master and his dragon as well.”

  “And I can’t trust any of them.” Marek stepped close and looked down at her softly. “You’re the only one who actually had my back all this time.”

  “What do you want, Marek? Why have you waged this war all these years? Why do you keep fighting?”

  “For the freedom of my people,” he said without hesitation.

  “Oh, is that so?” Dawn brushed her blue fingers across his bare chest and gently grabbed the horse medallion hanging over his neck. “What is it you really want?”

  “...Vengeance,” he admitted.

  “For your mother?”

  “Yes…”

  “And all of this, this war, this siege, it’s all for her?”

  “Yes,” he said bitterly.

  “What if you could have your revenge? Right here. Right now? If you could kill her murderer, would you stop?”

  “What?” He furrowed his brow. “What are you saying?”

  “If Caligo really wanted to he could have granted your wish long ago, instead he has you here playing his puppet king. Why do you think that is? He wants something inside that city and he’ll do anything to get it. Don’t you see? He doesn’t care about you, about any of us, especially not your people.”

  “...I know,” he whispered.

  “And yet you’re still willing to do what he says?”

  “He’ll keep his end of the bargain.”

  “My father made a deal with that Monster and the price was my brother and I. My father refused to pay, so in the end, Caligo took not only his children, but his wife, and his village. What will be the price for your vengeance I wonder?”

  Marek clenched his jaw. “Whatever it is, I’m sure I can endure it.”

  “Who says you will be the one who has to endure? How many of the living are you willing to sacrifice for the dead? One person? Ten? A hundred? Your tribe? Your people?”

  “I…” Marek bowed his head in shame. “It’s too late… It’s too late to head back now. We’ve all already sacrificed too much.”

  “Oh, Marek,” she caressed his cheek. “You’d let your hatred consume the whole world before letting it go. I pity you.” She reached up and kissed him softly. “Goodbye, Marek.”

  Dawn stepped back and left as silently as she had come.

 

~~~

 

  Eve of the new moon…

 

  Ophelia Thorn pulled open the tent flap and walked inside. Marek was sitting on the floor cross-legged. His strange ebon spear lay in front of him. Ophelia had seen it many times by now, and yet every time she laid eyes on the weapon it sent a chill down her spine. The spear’s body was dark black and its edges were semi-transparent like glass. The blade of the spear was almost as long as a sword’s.

  She turned away and glanced at her husband, “It’s time.”

  Marek opened his eyes and looked at her. The rumors of Ophelia’s ghostly beauty had not done her justice. Yet now that beauty was marred. She wore a silk black covering over the right side of her pale grey face. Gold lace had been stitched with great care into the cloth, it was a work of art really, and in many ways, it enhanced her ethereal beauty. But Marek knew, he was there when Caligo had bore his finger into her eye and carved his claw over her flesh. A painful eternal reminder of failure to heed his word.

  The Thorn queen had been much more imposing when they had first met. Now, she seemed withdrawn, and she rarely spoke. At first, he had considered himself lucky to have married such a powerful and beautiful woman; he needed a powerful ally by his side. He could see the occasional glimmer of rage in her eye, but he wondered to himself who that rage was towards. Was she an ally? Or was she a threat he had to keep at a distance?

  “And the other party?” Marek finally spoke up.

  “They will be arriving soon. Lord Caligo is already atop the hill. We should hurry before he grows impatient.”

  She tried to appear calm, but the trace of fear in her voice betrayed her. She didn’t want to fail Caligo, not again.

  “...Very well,” he grabbed his spear and nodded.

 

~~~

 

  The climb up the hill was short, yet it felt like an eternity. Ophelia followed by his side in silence. He tried striking up a conversation but she answered in only one or two words.

  A large elaborate stone chair had been erected from the ground at the top of the hill.

  No, not a chair, a throne, Marek thought.

  Caligo sat slumped on the throne. He wasn’t wearing his usual avian skull and instead opted for the cowl of his black-feather cloak.

  Caligo slowly glanced up at the two newcomers. “You’re late,” he noted. Not in any angry tone, he simply spoke as if it were fact.

  “Forgive me, my lord!” Ophelia bowed deeply. “My husband was slow to follow.”

  “I was in mediation,” said Marek defensively.

  “Good, let’s hope that meditation will help keep you in control of your emotions,” said Caligo.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Marek frowned.

  “When we made our deal I made you a promise, a promise I intend to keep. You must have patience, this is not the time, soon, but not yet,” said Caligo.

  “I have waited years. I can wait a few more hours,” said Marek.

  “Good, because there seems to be an unprecedented guest arriving.” Caligo pointed lazily with one finger to the four small figures walking up the hill from the distance.

  “What?” Marek asked confusedly, but as the word slipped out of his mouth, the words that Caligo had spoken began to sink in. He slowly turned around and watched in stunned silence as the four figures rose up the hill.

  Holo, Elzri, Krall, and Alessandra climbed to the top of the hill and stopped about ten paces from the throne. The last rays of the sun were fading on the horizon. Dusk had arrived.

  Holo turned to Caligo with a stone-cold face. “Hello, Monster.”

  He leaned forward with a smile, “Hello, traveler. I’m glad you could make it.”

  Holo glared at him.

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  The white fox on Caligo’s lap suddenly squeaked.

  Holo glanced at her with a sad expression. “Hello, Lin Lu. It’s been a long time.”

  The fox purred and to Marek’s surprise, she nodded.

  Krall crossed his burly arms, “I was told there would be four people on both sides, I only see three.”

  “Allow me to make proper introductions,” Caligo stood from his throne and bowed with a flourish. “The beauty to my left is the Thorn Queen, Lady Ophelia, ruler of the Great City of Undergrowth. The giant to my right is the legendary Dusk King, himself, Marek of the Cairn Tribe, you would do well to respect them both.”

  Ophelia nodded. “Hello, traitors,” she said curtly.

  Alessandra smiled angrily, “Hello, Thorn. What happened to your face?”

  The bad blood between the Ruling Houses and the old Royal House of Hollow Shade had not been forgotten, noted Marek, though he said nothing, his expression inscrutable.

  “Ahem, as for me, I am Crow, a simple servant to the king and queen. As for my companion on my lap, she is Lin Lu.”

  “The fox? That’s the fourth member?” Krall frowned.

  “She prefers to stay quiet for these sorts of meetings, but believe me she is listening and would be most upset if you discount her opinion if she is so inclined to give one,” said Caligo lightly.

  “Crow, huh… So you’re the one…” Elzri muttered. “You’re the one who murdered my grandson.”

  Krall stiffened at the drow’s words. His face snapped towards the cloaked figure and he immediately reached for his hammer. “Him? He murdered Aizel?”

  “Aizel? That name sounds vaguely familiar,” Caligo teased.

  “Stop, the both of you,” Holo admonished Elzri and Krall. “We are here to parley, nothing more.”

  “I agree, nothing more,” Caligo said pointedly while glancing at the still-faced Marek. Caligo sat back down on his throne and rested his chin on the palm of his hand. “So, Holo, care for introductions?”

  Holo frowned at his flippant tone. “...The glowering drow is Elzri, lord of the Great House of Noir. The looming orc is Krall, lord of the Great House of Katag, and war master of our city. And this is—”

  “—I am Alessandra, lady of the Great House of Helene,” she smiled and stepped forward. “I take it you’re the one in charge?”

  “Oh? What makes you say that?” Caligo asked amusedly.

  “The others aren’t saying a word,” Alessandra said. “And by the way you carry yourself and are sitting on the glorified giant chair, I can only assume you’re the dragon rider seen flying over the docks earlier today. All of this posturing tells me you command this little party, no?”

  Caligo inclined his head. “I’m listening.”

  Alessandra crossed her arms. “You obviously don’t want to kill us all and raze our city to the ground, otherwise you would have already attacked with that pet dragon of yours. So, let’s get down to business, what is that you want?”

  “It isn’t your place to speak,” Holo snapped at her and stepped forward.

  Alessandra ignored her and continued, “I want safe passage for my House, its people, and our merchandise. Promise me that, and I will grant you whatever you want.”

  Caligo chuckled, “That does seem promising, but I’m afraid there is only one person here who can give me what I desire. The one thing you so cleverly hid from me all these years, Holo. Selyndra’s Key.”

  “The key was destroyed centuries ago, you know that,” said Holo.

  “Oh, Holo, how do you expect me to spare your precious civilians if you continue to lie?” Caligo asked casually.

  “You’re not the one in power here, Crow,” Alessandra interrupted. “You can fly around all you want with that pet dragon but you still can’t get through our city’s barriers. We have all the leverage. So let’s talk instead of bluffing, yeah?”

  “You’re Alessandra… Helene,” Marek muttered.

  She glanced up at him, “I am. And you’re taller than I thought.”

  “Do you know who I am?” he said quietly.

  “The warlord who has defied all odds and won victory after victory against my city’s armies, yes, I know you,” she answered calmly.

  “You look just as I imagined,” Marek whispered.

  “I see you’ve heard of me as well,” she smirked.

  “Stories of your beauty are told throughout the valley tribes. The merchant queen of Helene.”

  Alessandra glanced back at Holo and nodded subtly. “Then you know it was those valley tribes of yours that took my sister’s life. But I have put the past behind me, I am not here to fight you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Despite everything your people took from me,” Alessandra smiled bitterly, tears in her eyes, “I’m here to broker peace. So, please, tell me, besides this key, is there anything else you and your people desire? Gold? Livestock? Land? Name your price.”

  Marek stared at her, studying the faint freckles on her rosy cheeks, and the bright red curls cascading over her shoulders. “...My mother used to tell me stories about you, merchant queen. She admired you, more than anyone.”

  “Yes, well, I’m flattered,” Alessandra smiled. “Perhaps I could arrange a gift for your mother. A vermillion golden necklace embedded with precious stones?”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. My mother is dead.”

  “Oh, my deepest apologies,” she bowed.

  “There is no need for apologies.” Marek slowly stepped forward. “It’s not as if you killed her. No, she was killed by your city’s soldiers, her own people; caught in the middle of a skirmish you could say. You see, she was born in Hollow Shade, but when she was young, she was captured by a valley tribe and taken prisoner. Her whole life seemed to revolve around being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or so she thought.”

  “Ah, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Alessandra said sympathetically. “Hollow Shade’s patrols can be very aggressive, especially towards tribal folk. Your mother’s death was a horrible accident, I’m sure.”

  “I told you there was no need for your apologies,” Marek said coldly. “You know, my mother believed in your city. Even as she served as a concubine for so many years, with no help in sight, she believed that Hollow Shade would save her some day. That her family would come and rescue her.”

  Alessandra furrowed her brow. “Her family?”

  Marek smiled and took another step forward. “Yes, her family.”

  “Marek,” Caligo said with a warning tone, but the man ignored him.

  Holo glanced at the dire man’s approach suspiciously and she searched Caligo’s posture for answers, but the latter was simply sitting in his chair without making any movements.

  “One day, after many years of servitude, my mother managed to sneak a letter past the guards,” Marek said quietly. “The letter was a plea for help. A rescue. Do you know what happened?”

  “I don’t…?” Alessandra said uncertainly.

  He smiled, “My mother’s letter got to her family and they sent soldiers to rescue her. Except, they weren’t there to save her. You see, my mother had never been in the wrong place at the wrong time; her capture had never been an accident. Everything had all been orchestrated by her twin sister.”

  Alessandra suddenly stiffened and her face turned deathly pale. “It cannot be…!” she mumbled with trembling lips.

  “When my mother’s sister found out her older twin had survived the original ‘accident’ she sent her soldiers to kill my mother and they did, along with half of my tribe.” Marek leaned forward, “My mother never stopped believing in her sister, even as her soldier’s cut my mother down right in front of me.”

  Holo’s eyes widened in understanding, “Oh shit…!”

  Krall and Elzri glanced at each other, confused.

  “I wouldn’t move if I were any of you,” Caligo warned softly.

  “You said this was a parley!” Holo yelled.

  “It is,” Caligo said. “Marek, there will be another time. Wait.”

  Marek ignored his warning. He loomed over Alessandra and stared into her eyes, “How strange. You look just like her.”

  “I-I-I’m s-sorry,” she mumbled, terrified.

  “I told you, I don’t need your apologies.” Marek leaned into her ear, “So I ask once more, do you know who I am?”

  The silver horse medallion slipped from underneath his shirt and dangled over his neck, right in front of Alessandra’s eyes. Her entire body trembled in recognition. She swallowed hard. “I-I… I—”

  He leaned back and looked at her with a steel gaze. “I am Marek, son of Tamora of the Great House of Helene, and I have waited long enough.” His hands shot out and grabbed Alessandra by the waist. She screamed and kicked as he lifted her up to eye-level.

  Brown and Yellow mana surged into his veins. Alessandra cast Orange flames over his body, but they splashed harmlessly off his Yellow scales. His spell-enhanced muscles swelled with strength, giving his skin a metallic sheen. He dug his fingers into her ribcage and squeezed. Alessandra gasped in agony as her bones cracked under the pressure.

  Elzri and Krall tried to interfere, but Holo grabbed them both and Flickered away in a cloud of orange sparks.

  Alessandra’s voice grew strained and she choked out a hollow sound. Marek roared in rage and squeezed with his all might. Her ribcage collapsed and she vomited a gush of blood from her mouth and nose. Alessandra’s head sank to her chest and her body fell limp.

  Marek’s breath was shallow, his shoulders heaving. He dropped her corpse unceremoniously. His hands were covered in slick red.

  Caligo sighed, “I warned you to have patience.”

  “You promised me her life. Or do you not keep your ends of a bargain?” Marek didn’t wait for an answer. He grabbed his spear from behind his back and with one swing, sliced off Alessandra’s neck. He picked up her severed head and marched down the hill.

  “There goes any chance of negotiations, the bastard,” Ophelia muttered angrily.

  “Yes, it seems so,” said Caligo.

  Ophelia tilted her head to the side, “You seem alright with this outcome.”

  “Do I?” he glanced at her, his iridescent eyes cold, not a trace of warmth within.

  Ophelia shivered, unable to move, unable to tear her gaze away.

  Lin Lu licked his hand and made a purr-like sound.

  Caligo looked down at her and smiled, “Yes, you’re right, the key will be mine, one way or another.”

  Free from his gaze, Ophelia gasped and fell to her knees. She felt as if she had been dumped into a freezing cold lake. Pain burned where her right eye had once been.

  Caligo stared at Marek's back in the distance, “You mortals always act believing there is no price to your actions.” He glanced at the headless corpse on the ground. “There is always a price.”

 

 

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