A. F. Kay
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BPL2 - Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2024-06-08 06:50:03 +0000 UTCIt took all night and over twenty dimensional jumps to reach the Island.
They had left the mountains and cold weather behind them some time ago and had been navigating through gorges, along cliffs, and across seaweed-strewn beaches for hours, the Mage lighting their way through the dark with levitating spheres of yellow fire. Gunder led them out of a narrow limestone fissure and into the open air again just as dawn broke.
They crested the final ridge and came into view of the valley. The hydra had lessened its torture the nearer they got to the Island, removing the pain in her chest, and only the headache remained. Which was good—otherwise she might have fainted. Gunder’s description had been wildly inadequate.
Cypress trees, olive groves, and scrubby vegetation extended beyond sight toward the east, and to the west, a gem-clear bay sparkled in blues and pinks under the rising sun.
Ships bobbed languidly on the water, their ropes and furled sails snapping loudly in the breeze. A pair of deckhands on the nearest clipper lounged against a stack of rolled-up carpets, one of them shooting figs from a slingshot at a young boy asleep in the crow’s nest.
Beyond the bay stretched a maze of jutting islands and rocky islets so dense and treacherous that Lylan couldn’t conceive how the moored boats had ever made it near the island.
Directly ahead of them, at a distance of about a half mile, lay a sizable walled city. Whitish-grey buildings of all heights lay inside the defensive walls, their roofs tiled in clay and windows hung with orange and gold paper lanterns. A river ran down through the center of town and onward to the bay, its banks lined with green spaces. Arched stone bridges crossed the water at regular intervals.
“Ithakros,” whispered Gunder. “Your birthright.”
Lylan swallowed hard, but had nothing to say. She longed for Sift to be with her at this moment. He would have had the perfect words.
She smiled hugely thinking of how much he and Shelly would have loved these beaches.
“You like it?” said Gunder, watching her with a gentle expression.
Lylan nodded, unsure if she could form an affirmative that wasn’t too sappy. “Shall we go in now?” she whispered.
“Not yet.” Gunder turned to face her, his eyes clouding. “I wanted you to see it, but there are things to be done before you can enter the city.”
“Such as?”
“Well, first you must meet with the kings.” He gestured toward the cove. “I’ve sent word for them to gather at the dockside tavern this morning in expectation of your arrival.”
It seemed Gunder was already aware of the elements of the quest and was pushing her towards completing them. Lylan had no intention of being bossed around by him, but even if she wasn’t going to be queen, she still felt a little possessive of this glorious place.
“Right, the kings…” Lylan searched the dock buildings for a tavern sign, blocking her eyes from the now blinding morning light. “Kings of what? I can just go run off these invaders and be back in five.”
Hos snorted quietly, then said in a low voice to Gunder, “I told you she’d take right to it.”
Gunder gave him a quelling look, then faced Lylan again. “They are monarchs of various territories in the Southern Kingdom, and all subordinate to the High Queen. You. They have gathered here today to bend the knee and, presumably, to be thanked for protecting Ithakros, upholding many of its treaties and obligations, and keeping the greater domain unified for thousands of years while the Ke’el seat has remained vacant.”
“Oh.” Lylan canceled the buffs she’d just activated. “Well, I guess they can stay, then.”
“Indeed.”
Lylan bit her lip, staring into space for a moment. “While it’s very noble that they’ve done all that… I don’t understand why they’d agree to just show up and ‘bend the knee,’ as you say. Isn’t it more likely they’re here to slit my throat and keep all the power and territory they’ve amassed over the centuries? They don’t know I don’t want it.”
“Territory isn’t a problem for them,” said Gunder. “Except for the city of Ithakros, all the territory of the Southern Kingdom is divided amongst them already. If anything, I’d think they’d be worried that you’re here to come after what they have.”
“I find that hard to believe,” said Lylan, pointing at the city. “You’re telling me they don’t want that incredible place? You’re telling me they’re content to be secondary and don’t want to be the big boss of it all? I don’t think so.”
Gunder shook his head. “Ruling the capitol city of Ithakros comes at a heavy cost, as you’ve already discovered. One they are neither willing nor able to pay.”
“This is not the time to be cryptic with me,” said Lylan. “Convince me these guys are trustworthy or I will dispatch them here and now. I’m serious. I’m not going to die based on a hopeful assumption of yours about their motives.”
Gunder tsked impatiently. “They won’t challenge you because of the hydra,” he said. “The sovereign of Ithakros must, by law and treaty and tradition, be one who is bonded to the hydra. The underkings are also male, which prohibits them from even trying. They have been raised here, they have heard the stories and been instructed from childhood about the ways of the creature inside you. I truly believe they would rather die today than carry the burden that is yours.”
“You can’t know that.” Lylan laughed bleakly. “I’ve seen enough people desperate for power to know that a little difficulty won’t deter them from what they really want.”
“I believe you misjudge them,” said Gunder, “but I take your point. Consider this then… They know that if they were to try to take what is yours, they would die immediate gruesome deaths. This domain is inhabited by more than humans.”
Lylan raised an eyebrow.
Gunder pointed out past the cove. “Those waters,” he said, “are home to the Hydras of Epesia.”
“More hydras?” gasped Lylan. “What kind of nightmare place is this? I’m telling you, I don’t want it.”
“You already have it,” said Gunder, losing his remaining patience. “You have bonded. It is done. You either master the hydra and take your seat as queen, or it will consume you. Your wishes no longer come into play.”
Lylan clenched her jaw. There was always a way. If she’d learned anything over the last few years, it was that.
But she feared she had no time to find it. Their enemies had already broken through their gates. The Pact no longer meant anything. The power of the Pyramid was broken, maybe destroyed. There was no time.
She swallowed hard, accepted part three of the quest, then whispered, “Okay.”
Gunder held out a hand indicating the rocky path down to the cove. “After you.”
During the journey to the Island, Lylan had taken a moment to change into fresh clothes, detangle her hair, and toggle off the visibility of her Six and a Half Guild earring. She looked perfectly presentable, but this was no ordinary occasion. Until she could find another option, it seemed she had no choice but to take up the role of queen, and looking weak today could be deadly, no matter what Gunder said about the motives of these men. Her heart beat fast as she opened the door to the tavern and stepped inside, followed by Gunder and the Mage.
The time was 5:35 AM, so the establishment was empty save for four men at a trestle table in the center of the room.
Lylan’s ability Fabulously Keen Senses retrieved their profiles immediately and hung the information over their heads in her vision. The ability wasn’t actually called “Fabulously Keen Senses,” but she’d customized the name in her display after leveling it to the max because it had become so incredibly fabulous.
Lylan liked to tweak her interface when she was bored, and sometimes she and Sift sat around for hours coming up with new names. She’d never shared this fact with anyone else, and now she was rather glad. It couldn’t be known that Her Majesty had spells called Loud Noise Producer 3000 and Hot Like Rapid Fire.
Of the four men at the table, three appeared to be sleeping, and one actually was. The alert man stood and gave the table a hard kick when he noticed her entrance, rousing the fakers. To a man, all three were dressed finely in black wool coats with gold buttons, black leather vests and boots, and enough bling to jangle when they walked. The sleeping man was dressed the same, but she couldn’t see his face.
The first stepped forward—a short man with startling blue eyes, dark brown hair, and a pensive air. He reminded her of Starfield, except that he wore a kind smile.
In addition to altering her spell names, Lylan sometimes liked to insert notes in her own record of profiles. She smiled back at him and added a nickname to his information.
Name: His Majesty the King of Jerrick
Nickname: Mini Ruwen
Deity: One True God
Class Type: Cultivator - Sapphire
Level: 67
“Greetings, Child of Uru and future Queen of Ithakros. You may address me as Jerrick.” He inclined his head to her, then opened his mouth to speak again, but stopped short. His smile vanished. “I know your face,” he said, gazing at her.
