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Monarch - Pyrrhic IX
🕑 Added 2022-08-26 18:30:01 +0000 UTCThe plan I’d been so confident of moments before felt flimsy now. This was my father, after all. I’d watched him carve through armies like butter, shrug off spells that would have killed a normal man. Using the line of infernal infantry as cover, I bent down and unleashed dozens of tiny violet sparks on the grass.
Twenty was my safe limit. Instead of setting the grass alight, I kept their potency as low as possible. They singed individual blades of grass as they spread to the sides of the infantry forming two parallel lines that raced towards my father’s men.
I held my breath. If any of the soldiers in my father’s army spotted the spark, this would be seen as a clear act of hostility. Keeping that in mind, I spread them out further. It was providence that this was happening in the early afternoon, when the sun was brightest. The sparks would barely be visible.
When there was no visible reaction from the oncoming calvary, I guided the sparks as close as I could get them without moving them out of range.
After they reached the outer limit, I stalled them a little less than halfway across the field. Ralakos drew close to me, looking down in concern. His plate shifted as he opened his visor. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
As Xarmos and I mounted the small horses they’d saved for us, I tried not to think of what my father would say about the unimpressive mounts. If I spent the requisite time to correct everything King Gil might perceive as weakness, I’d have to schedule around ragnarok.
“I’ll be accompanying you.” Maya approached, riding a horse I recognized as the mare that had been my steed when I’d accompanied the rangers. She was unarmored, wearing a simple tunic with the xescalt staff mounted on her back. Her expression was calm and utterly unreadable. “Should negotiations fail, I still have that card to play.”
I stared at her in surprise. “If push comes to shove, he’ll kill you to make a point. Both of you.” I glanced at Xarmos. “It’s better if you stay.”
“Haven’t we had this argument already?” Xarmos shook his head. “Having infernals with you creates an image of support. If you go alone, it will just look as if we’re using you as shield. And you’ve shielded us enough.”
Not enough time to talk them out of it. I’ll reset if I need to.
“Fine. Stay behind me and do nothing to draw attention to yourselves.” I kicked the heels of the unimpressive mare and it startled into a gallop. The line of infantry ahead parted, allowing us through.
My heart raced in my neck as I held up a gray banner. I knew, innately, how unlikely it was that we’d achieve an ideal outcome here. My father hungered for battle. Craved it. Once he’d made up his mind to engage, I could count the number of times he’d backed down on one hand with fingers to spare.
And most of those were temporary, due to overwhelming odds.
Pounding hoofbeats were the only audible noise as we crossed the field, slowing as we reached the halfway point.
Behind my father, a mass of archers were already drawing their bows, arrows at the ready.
I stopped at the halfway point. My fingers stumbled over the clasps as I hurried to remove the my helmet. When I’d unfastened it, I held it at my side, staring defiantly at my father.
The reaction was instantaneous.
An audible uproar from the human troops, that escalated until the king raised an open hand and curled it into a fist. The men fell silent instantly, as if their tongues were cut out.
I held my breath. If he threw the fist down, the archers would shoot. Now that I thought about it, that was a real possibility. I had no idea what his reaction to my letters had been, or opinion on my exploits. It wouldn’t necessarily be beyond him to write me off entirely, consider his heir tainted by the enemy.
King Gil lowered his fist slowly. He drew his massive zweihander with one hand and rested it over his shoulders, manipulating the reins with one hand. The weapon was notorious, bordering on legend, as he had used it in nearly every battle and conquest over the last forty years, yet never given it a name. As his legend had grown, the common folk had began to call the sword, “Unsung.”
He drew closer at a slow trot. I could feel the weight of his eyes beneath his helmet. His horse towered over mine. Eventually, he removed his helmet in turn.
A strange mix of feelings washed over me. The last time I saw my father, he was dead on the palace floor, bleeding from dozens of wounds. His long hair tumbled from beneath his helmet. And while his face was craggy and brutish, he looked far younger than I remembered him.
“What was your sister’s first word?” My father rumbled. His voice was disturbingly neutral.
Ah. I should have expected this. He was being careful, confirming it was actually me and not an illusion of some sort.
“Which one?” I asked immediately, regretting the obvious nervousness in my voice. When he didn’t answer, I carried on. “Sera’s first word was “Crown.” Annette’s was “Mother.”
“What did I tell you of Kings and the lessers who orbit them?” He looked back, towards Xarmos and Maya.
My hand moved subconsciously towards the hilt of my sword. “A king has no friends. Only allies.”
A low, seething anger seeped into King Gil’s voice. “And when I told you of how I rebelled against my father, and approached the mountain folk of Elgan as a bannerless nomad to study their weaknesses—an example you cited so brazenly in that damnable letter—how long did I spend with them?”
Somehow, I got the feeling that this last question had very little to do confirming anything. “Uh. A year?”
“A year. Contrast that, will you, to the five years you’ve been gone. Off your horse.” My father kicked a leg over and dropped off his horse, sheathing his zweihander.
“Cairn,” Maya called in alarm.
“Stay back.” I whispered, using a burst of air magic to carry my voice to her ears.
“Off your fucking horse.” My father shouted, stalking towards me.
I barely had time to dismount before I saw the blurring gold of a vicious backhand. It caught me in the chin, and I nearly toppled from the weight of the blow.
“Stand up.” My father commanded.
I wiped a trickle of blood from my mouth.
Strength. He only respects strength.
The flesh of my left arm boiled as the demonic chitin overtook the skin beneath my armor, hardening my skin and strengthening the arm. I gave him an overly wide smile, and did something I would have never dared in my previous life.
I cocked my reinforced arm back and slammed my fist into his jaw.
There was a flash of surprise in his expression that vanished just as quickly. The force of the blow reverberated through my armor, resulting in an audible hum.
His head had barely moved, tilting slightly opposite of the direction I’d hit him. I lowered my fist, heart hammering. There should have been enough power behind the hit to knock an average person unconscious. I wasn’t expecting that to happen with my father, but the utter lack of a reaction was alarming.
Painstakingly slowly, he leaned to the side and spit blood onto the ground. Then grinned at me, his teeth marred by red. “Look at the spine on you.”
“We’re here to negotiate—“ Xarmos started.
“Another word from the demon-fucker and I’ll kill him where he stands.” King Gil spoke directly to me, never breaking eye-contact.
Xarmos fell silent.
“Come home.” My father said. Had I heard him wrong? It almost sounded like a request, rather than a command.
I shook my head. “I need three more days. Then I will go wherever you wish.”
“You are not in a position to negotiate terms, whelp.”
I stared at him, beseeching every god I knew that my father would see reason. “By now, you know the adversary is real. Thaddeus would have confirmed it. And as you received my letter, you know my vision is accurate. I am close to securing an alliance with the infernals, but if I leave now, all will be for naught.”
“This has gone on long enough. Cease this foolish course. There are far more valuable allies to be had amongst the demi-humans. The infernals are hardly worth the time you’ve wasted.” King Gil snarled.
I knew my father well enough to read between the lines. Despite the blatant hostility, the fact that he wasn’t denying the possibility of allying with non-humans at all, was hugely significant. Thaddeus must have discovered enough about Thoth to scare the hells out of him, as she should.
But he’d planted his banner.
When I didn’t move, he breathed out a long sigh. “Enough. Behind me, at the cusp of the Everwood, is a carriage. Leave this diseased pony behind and get in.”
“I’m not finished.” I said quietly, staring at the ground.
My father stood so close I could almost feel his breath, as he spoke directly into my ear. “If you continue you disobey me, there will be nothing left but ashes. Silodan will look like a mummer’s farce compared to what we’ll do here. My men will lay waste to the enclave. Rape and pillage. Every one of these animals you’ve come to care for will die screaming, disfigured and defiled.
“I… am not… fucking… finished!” I roared.
The twenty tiny sparks I’d planted around my father’s men blazed to life, walls of violet flame searing the very air around them. Horses panicked and knocked off riders as soldiers back away from the flames. A handful of water mages attempted to douse the growing inferno with water and backed away when their efforts did nothing.
I let the flames ensconce us in a circle. My father didn’t flinch, but his lips parted, ever so slightly, his stoicism broken. “Are you truly prepared to kill me, boy?”
I glared at him, hoping the ferocity of my expression hid the way my legs were shaking.
“You told me once, that the road to victory is paved with bodies. What’s one more?”
My father smiled. A rare and genuine smile. Strangely out of place in this moment. At least, until I realized why.
All around us the flames were shrinking. When I attempted to spread them out and refuel them, I felt something blocking me. I’d felt this before, when I spared with Bellarex. But never at range.
“Void mage.” I realized, looking for the source and finding none.
“You’ve learned much in your absence. Yes. A matter of course where the demis are involved.” King Gil nodded.
Slowly the flames puttered out, leaving only ash and dirt behind. I hazarded a glance back. Xarmos and Maya both looked horrified at how quickly things had escalated.
He placed a hand on my shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “Forgive my brashness, son. You are no longer a boy for me to bend to my will. When we return to Whitefall, you will retain control of your regiment. We will prepare for the arch-mage together. But I cannot allow you to remain. Come home.”
I was stunned at the admission. I was also out of moves. The display of power was the last card I had. He’d disarmed me effortlessly. I held no delusions of what would happen if I rejected this peace offering. There would be no quarter given to the enclave.
No choice. I have to reset.
“Sten Evenwind.”
A split-second after I heard Maya’s voice, my father raised a fist and dropped it in her direction. Dozens of twangs echoed through the clearing as the archer’s loosed.
I twisted backwards and reached out with the flame in a panic, but my magic was still suppressed by the void mage.
Not again.
Xarmos’s horse had startled, nearly throwing him off.
Maya reacted incredibly quickly, weaving clear light into an aegis that shielded her body, repeating the action three more times and creating a repetitive layer of arcane shields before the arrows hit in quick succession. The first two shields shattered with a high pitched keen. Several arrows drifted low, striking her horse in the chest, sending it screaming to the ground and bringing Maya with it.
I started to draw my sword. Then stopped. My father held his fist up, stopping the archers. He studied Maya. “Curious. Naming my court physician as your final words.”
Maya grunted as she hauled herself to her feet, using the dying horse to push herself up. “We’ve been in contact for nearly a year. I was the one to tell warn him of Queen Elaria’s possible blood sickness, and treatments.”
King Gil’s arm twitched. He held up three fingers, and my ears popped. When he spoke again, it sounded as if the three of us were locked together in a small, echoing room. “You are playing a dangerous game.”
“I am well aware of the stakes.” Maya placed a hand on her horse. Green light streamed from her palm, illuminating the animal’s musculature as it reformed, damage repairing itself. “We thought Cairn dead at the hand of the adversary. Considering the price he paid to protect us, attempting to prevent the death of his mother was the least I could do.”
“What treatments did you advise, life mage?” King Gil asked. Again, his
Maya hesitated. “A salve of freya poppy to suppress the pain. Ironwart and firebane to aid with the internal hemorrhaging. And a descending regimen of golden lotus to keep the disease from worsening in the short-term.”
“Why the descending regimen?” The King pressed her.
Because of the reverse tolerance and toxicity.
It wouldn’t heal my mother completely, but it was a clever stopgap. One that had probably already bought my mother more time than she had in my original timeline. It made sense—but it wasn’t a natural conclusion, I’d never heard of it despite no small amount of investigation and reading on the matter. Maya must have spent an ungodly amount of time researching a solution.
“Because of the inverse tolerance and toxic nature of the plant. More is required initially, but keeping the dosage static would be lethal over an extended period of time.” Maya said, more or less confirming my thoughts.
As my father absorbed her answer, his lip curled. “That feckless cunt. I found it suspicious, when after years of seemingly unconnected symptoms he was suddenly able to form a diagnosis. My gratitude, life mage. When I return to Whitefall, Evenwind will get exactly what he deserves. I despise corrupt administrators who take credit for the efforts of others.”
“No.” Maya said emphatically.
My father cocked his head. “… No?”
Her calm demeanor cracked. “I presented myself through a human messenger as an eclectic mage who did not wish to be named. Sten simply did his due diligence and confirmed my findings. He even offered me a position at court as his assistant, which I declined. For obvious reasons.”
“Those reasons being?” King Gil demanded.
“That the sitting king would not trust the ministrations of a demon-fucker.” Maya spat.
My heart sank. She’d presented herself commendably up to that point. But my father would not take such a response passively. Especially from someone he considered to be so far below him.
A chill went down my spine as King Gil began to chuckle, darkly. The chuckle grew into a guffaw, long and heady. The echoing auditory effect remained, implying our conversation was being suppressed from anyone who might be trying to listen in. He glanced at me. “The infernal came to play.” He then refocused on Maya, leaving me behind as he strode towards her. “Repaying my son was only a fortunate entailment. You speak too well to be a rank and file healer, life mage. My guess, you’re a trained ambassador of sorts. You intended to come to Whitefall eventually on your own. Ingratiate yourself to my physician and my court with the intent of angling for an alliance. Healing my queen your ultimate point of leverage.”
“That is… correct.” Maya admitted.
“And now you’ve repurposed the framework of your scheme to buy the prince time. Only, it seems you’ve overplayed your hand and made the mistake of letting me close the distance. I can seize you easily.” He towered over Maya, jerking a thumb at me, “And judging from how the prince tried to defend you from my archers, I’m guessing you matter to him. He won’t remain if I take you. I’d be killing two fowl at the cost of one.”
The draw was lightning fast. So quick and natural Maya must have practiced it, over and over. A razor sharp dagger appeared in her hand, pressed hard against her throat. “You must be aware of the rarity of my kind.”
“Fascinating.” King Gil reached towards her, and stopped as Maya’s arm tensed, dagger drawing blood. “Would you? Truly?”
Maya’s eyes flashed. “I have been captured once before, for my talents. It will not happen again.”
“Clever. Committed. Fast on your feet. Commendable attributes in any individual. But this is a bluff.” My father shook his head.
“Try me and see.” Maya looked at me. And I realized her intent. As my father reached towards her, she tilted her head towards the sky and closed her eyes, murmuring a silent prayer. Her body tightened.
“Stop.” King Gil took a step back. Then spun on his heel and returned to me. Maya lowered her arm, a thin line of red where the dagger had broken the skin.
My father stood beside me, facing his army. When he spoke, his voice was pitched low enough that only I could hear. “Rare indeed.”
As shaken as I was from the display, I couldn’t let Maya’s efforts go to waste. “Your terms?” I asked coldly.
King Gil didn’t look at me. He seemed lost in thought. He spoke again, projecting loudly. “You have a day. The healer stays here. Stall a moment longer and I kill them all. And I’ll save that one the inconvenience of cutting her own throat.”
Anger raged through me “She doesn’t—“
“We accept these terms, your grace.” Maya walked towards my father’s army, giving me a meaningful look as she passed. The meaning was clear.
Don’t waste this.
I swore silently, then mounted my horse and raced back towards the enclave, Xarmos following in my wake.
