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Throne Hunters Book 2, Chapter 40
🕑 Added 2024-08-27 15:06:51 +0000 UTCHarald felt the walls of the library press in around him. His breath felt strangled in his throat, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Countess Sonora.
How had he miscalculated so badly?
Not only had he failed in impressing her, he’d given terrible offense.
The library was still but for the crackling of the fire. Nobody seemed to breathe. Sam’s face was pale, Nessa’s alarmed, Kársek was a statue by the door, and even Vic’s jaw was clenched in shock.
Harald dry swallowed. He felt shivery and loose, and for just a moment his thoughts swirled, his pride bidding him bow and face Lady Yseult by himself.
But those were the thoughts of the old Harald.
He now had Ego 23.
He would not be so easily browbeaten.
“With all due respect,” he ground out, hands curling into fists. “If you reject my offer out of wounded pride then you are a fool.”
The countess’ head rocked back as if he’d just kicked her in the chin, and Vic immediately began to signal surreptitiously for Harald to quit.
“What did you just say?”
“Pride is a luxury neither of us can afford. My home is in the process of being seized by the Flutic Treasury even as we speak. All of my belongings, my family inheritance, was sold at auction to a pack of scavengers. In a matter of days, I will be evicted onto the streets with nothing more than my friends, Artifacts, and Servitor to my name.”
He said these words as if they were weapons, hammering them home. Countess Sonora listened, eyes wide, face pale, chin still raised.
“But I don’t care. Pride is as nothing to me now. I care only for one thing, and that is earning the strength with which to make a difference. Not to get rich. Not to acquire status. I care nothing for being a knight or having people bow to me. I only want - no, need - to be able to kill anything and everything that threatens the people of Flutic. Why? I’m not quite sure myself. But that is the infernal engine that drives me on. That demands my all. That forces me to heave myself up from the ground each and every time I think myself broken, think myself defeated, when I think I have nothing left.”
He felt dangerous. Felt a sense of mastery befalling him. His presence was expanding to fill the room, to choke out the light, to magnify his voice.
“Each time I’ve thought I had nothing left to give, I proved myself wrong. And now my growth in power has caught the eyes of the very jackals and hyenas that feast on the rotting corpse of Flutic. Who care nothing for the hundreds killed by the Shuddering. They want to claim my sword, my will, my bloody-minded desire for power so that they can use me for their own misbegotten ends. They thought they could intimidate me, cow me, threaten me into submission.”
Now it was Harald’s turn to raise his chin, to gaze down the length of his nose at Sonora, and when he smiled, he was confident it was ghastly. “But they were wrong. I refused them all. Not even Lady Yseult Khan could yoke me to her harness. I will rise with my friends and I shall harvest scales and I shall grow in power till my name challenges our greatest legends, and even then I shall not be content. Nothing shall stop me, my lady, but even so I must navigate the maze of politics that riddle this city like maggots riddle a corpse. I am not blind to the perils that threaten me, so I have need of your house. I have need of your name. You shall stand between me and the vultures and the hyenas and you will deflect them, deter them from fucking with my growth. You will use your connections to House Drakenhart. You will use your cunning, your wit, your tenacity, and you shall be the safe harbor that shall shield me from the storm.”
Nobody spoke.
Countess Sonora’s chest was rising and falling, and twin spots of color had risen to her cheeks. Whether from fury or a reaction to his own murderous certainty or some other emotion he couldn’t tell.
But she was hearing him.
She knew that he spoke his truth.
“And in exchange? I shall lend you my sword. Your foes shall become my foes. Your goals my goals. You have lost much. I know how that feels. Unlike me, however, you yet have pride. You wish to restore your House and name to its former glory. That’s fine. I don’t judge your ambitions. But you are failing. Your best weapons are Vic and Nessa, and while I am coming to love them as a brother and sister, I know that they are not enough. You need more. You see the darkness closing in. Your coffers are empty. Your servants and guards and soldiers fled. You stand bravely alone against a horde of enemies, but you know that pride is insufficient, that bravery becomes madness unless you can turn the tide of battle.”
Harald took a step toward her. “But you are not mad. You are bold and calculating and resolute and desperate. You cling to your pride and your anger and you will not bend knee, but not all who bow do so willingly. Some bend knee because they are broken by forces far greater than they.”
He took another step closer.
“But with my help, the tide of this battle may turn. I have at my disposal an unending ocean of wrath and determination that shall batter your foes apart and whittle down their resolve. I have at my command the fruits of my labor, Artifacts of Masterclass level and a Servitor won from the 27th Level. I bring with me a bloody-minded desire for conquest unlike anything Flutic has seen in centuries, and your foes will not understand what manner of monster opposes them until it is far, far too late.”
His voice felt inexorable, seemed to come from somewhere distant, the words issuing from his mouth as if of their own accord.
Never had he been so certain.
Never had he felt so overwhelmingly competent and sure.
“You need me as I need you, my lady. I need your harbor, you need my storm. I will not pretend to be a milquetoast knight who will follow you around at all hours of the day and guard your chamber at night. I have murderous business to attend, but the fruits of that labor shall be laid upon your altar and oh, my lady, how your foes shall tremble when we rise up against them, united in purpose, unstoppable, ungovernable, and utterly unwilling to desist until all that has been taken from you is rightfully yours once more.”
One more step, and then Harald knelt before Lady Sonora. He gazed up at her, and felt his gaze to be mesmerizing, knew that for all the world she could not look away, not if the manor began to collapse or the very world to end.
“Which is why I say to you: accept my service. Accept my oath. But nod your head, and I shall swear it to you again, here, now, and forevermore.”
Nobody moved.
Nobody so much as blinked.
Countess Sonora stared at him as if bewitched, and then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded.
“Countess Sonora, I, Harald Darrowdelve, humbly offer my service and loyalty to your house. By my honor and my blade, I pledge to uphold your cause, defend your interests, and strive for your glory. With this vow, I dedicate myself to you and the prosperity of House Sonora, seeking only to balance our mutual goals."
Finally, the countess dry swallowed. Without looking away, she extended her hand to Vic, who fumbled back to life, drew his blade, and handed it to her.
“Sir Harald Darrowdelve, I, Countess Anna Sonora of House Sonora, do hereby accept your service.” She paused, hesitant, eyes still wide, and then visibly gathered herself and continued. “Your loyalty to House Sonora will not be taken for granted, and I will ensure your duties allow you the freedom to pursue your personal endeavors. Together… together we shall strive to restore the honor and strength of our house. Welcome to House Sonora, Sir Harald.”
And she lightly touched each of his shoulders with the flat of Vic’s blade before passing it back to him.
For a moment the tableaux remained thus, Harald kneeling before the stunned countess, and then she passed her hand over her eyes. “I must… I must speak with Lady Yseult Khan. Please await me here.”
And she strode from the parlor and was gone.
The sound of metallic stars ringing out against the void filled his mind:
The Demon Seed Has Stirred
Your Presence has risen from 9 to 11
Harald blinked as he came back to himself. For a moment he felt dizzy, so that he reared up and staggered back to sit in his chair once more. Had he just said all that? What exactly had he even said? He couldn’t quite recall the words, just the feeling of authority and mastery, of knowing what needed to be done, and having the strength to do it.
“Well I’m be damned,” said Vic. “Harald. Where the fuck did that come from?”
Nessa let out a shaky laugh and then cut it off by clamping her hand over her mouth.
Sam stepped up beside Harald, placed her hand on his shoulder, and her Beacon of Hope filled the air, sank into his core, and eased the sudden sense of strain and panic that was beginning to fill him.
Harald felt his shoulders sag and placed his hand over her own, drawing strength from her.
Vic plunged his fingers into his golden hair. “By the weeping Seraphites and every demonic cock that ever slew a virgin, what the fuck was that?” He glanced about their group. “I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think! I felt… I felt ready to go to war, to laugh, to swear my own allegiance to you, Harry-boy! Where did you learn to talk like that?”
“That was incredible,” said Sam quietly. “Was that… was that you?”
“It was,” Harald managed to say. He took a deep breath, and with the aid of her Beacon he managed to stand up straight and crack a smile. “It just came through me in a rush. All the things I believe, that I’ve felt these past few weeks, that needed to be said.”
“By the angels, can you do that whenever you want?” Vic was pacing now. “You could convince anyone to agree to my schemes. You could enter politics, you could… I don’t even know!”
“No, I don’t think so.” Harald checked within himself, and felt that power gone. “It felt true, and I felt able to speak it as such. That’s… if anything, what gave my words their power. It wasn’t an Ability or the like. Just… this is my life, Vic. These are my dreams. The outcome of this meeting was literally life or death. I had to give it my all.”
“And that you fucking well did. Bah!” Vic collapsed onto the settee and covered his eyes, then bolted to his feet to grab his brandy from the sideboard and drink half of it in one go. “I’ve still got the chills. In fact, if that had continued for much longer -”
“Vic, darling, you’re babbling.” Nessa smoothed down her dress and smiled at Harald. “It would seem congratulations are in order.”
“Yes.” He smiled. “I’m now officially part of House Sonora. Goodbye, House Darrowdelve.”
Countess Sonora appeared in the archway again. Her face was pale, her mouth a thin line, and she stood nervously as if preparing to face a hanging judge.
Harald rose to his feet, and then, with great deliberation, bowed low.
The countess strode quickly to her chair, took up her brandy, and drank. Then, setting aside her glass, she gestured for everyone to be seated.
“I had no idea you could prove so… persuasive,” she said at last. “You showed no sign of such… overwhelming force of character before.”
“I’m a little shocked myself,” grinned Harald, determined to set her at ease. “Also, I doubt anyone would spend any time with me if I went around talking like that. ‘Pass me the butter, for destiny commands it.’ Right?”
The countess didn’t smile, but something in her gaze softened. “Remarkable. For a moment there I felt as if I beheld not a man, but…” She gave a sharp shake of her head.
“Oh, fear not,” said Vic, refilling his glass. “Harald is most definitely a man. Well. He used to be. Right up till he became so serious about training.”
“And Lady Yseult?” asked Harald.
“Gone from my gate. She must have decided it was beneath her dignity to await word after a certain point.”
A shuddery sense of relief passed through Harald. “Thank the angels.”
“You must tell her about Vorakhar,” said Nessa abruptly. “It’s not fair to her otherwise, and she’s now your liege. You owe her the truth.”
“Vorakhar?” asked the countess, tone sharp. “That’s – that’s one of the demon princes, is it not?” Her eyes widened. “Oh. Wait. Wait, wait, wait -”
“No,” said Harald, reaching out to forestall her. “I am very much my own person. Please don’t leap to conclusions. But yes. Nessa’s right. Now is the time. Now that you are my liege, I can be completely honest with you, and if what I say dismays you overmuch, well, then you can dismiss me from your service and I’ll understand.”
The countess stared at him, actively waiting.
So, he told her. From beginning to end, about his ill-fated visit to the dungeon’s first floor, Vorakhar’s visit, the Demon Seed, and everything that came thereafter.
Harald kept the tale succinct but left nothing out.
When finally he was done, Countess Sonora was wide-eyed all over again, her hands tightly clasped in her lap.
“I mean, that Harald,” said Vic conversationally, bouncing one leg that was crossed over the other. “What a complicated guy. Still, I’m friends with him. So is Nessa. Even after learning these terrifying truths. We formed the Throne Hunters charter after he told us all this, which could quite possibly be an indictment of our sanity. But the rest of us have nothing to do with demons, and we still have faith in Harry.”
“Agreed,” said Nessa. “When I first found out, I felt truly betrayed. But… in Flutic, I’ve come to appreciate people for what they do over what they say. And what I’ve seen of Harald since his run-in with Vorakhar has convinced me that he’s genuinely doing his best to grow in strength with integrity. That he can be trusted. That he needs us as much as I think, one day, Flutic will need him.”
Countess Sonora was nodding slowly, not so much because she was agreeing, Harald thought, but because she was just taking in what both of her erstwhile servants had to say.
“I have made no oath to Vorakhar,” said Harald softly. “What dealings with him I’ve had are because I’ve had no choice. But I swear to you that I live only to destroy him, and hope for nothing better than to turn his gifts against him.”
“This… is a lot,” said Countess Sonora. “Your Class, your Abilities… they’re demonic in origin?”
“Not quite. They’re being influenced by the Demon Seed, but originate with the Fallen Angel.”
“I was there when he was given his Class,” said Sam. “It’s when I earned my own, Netherwarden Knight, and when my Soul Nature and Rank changed. I believe… I know it may sound pretentious, but I truly believe the Fallen Angel intervened so that I can help Harald. My Soul Rank rose from Rare to Divine, and my Soul Ability changed to reflect my new role.”
“Would you share it with me?” asked Countess Sonora softly.
“Yes. You are the beacon that cleaves through night’s veil, the unwavering luminescence that guides the lost and forlorn. Your strength is a promise to the world: a light that not only reveals, but elevates. And my Soul Ability is: Your light transcends mere physical radiance, becoming a beacon for souls adrift in both darkness and doubt. Your journey illuminates paths not just through the world, but through the hearts of all you encounter.”
Harald reached up to squeeze Sam’s hand again, feeling inordinately proud of her.
“Remarkable,” whispered the countess. “A Netherwarden Knight. And yet nobody is speaking of you. How can that be?”
“She’s insanely talented at not drawing attention to herself,” said Vic. “It’s her one true character flaw.”
The countess blinked. “If I am to have the service of an Abyssal Initiate, then I would have the service of the Netherwarden Knight who is tasked with guiding him. Will you swear to me as well, Samantha Tuppins?”
Sam clenched her fists and visibly swallowed. For a moment she simply stared at the countess, her face turning blotchy, and then she gave a sharp shake of her head. “No. I can’t do that.”
“Can’t?” asked the countess mildly.
“Won’t. I was oathsworn before, to Harald’s family. I… I will never relinquish my freedom again.”
“Oh.” The countess raised her hand to cover her mouth, “My apologies, I didn’t know. Of course. I don’t hold with that custom. When I took control of my House, I released everyone who had been oathsworn to my father.”
“Bad move,” said Vic examining his nails. “Seeing as they all left your service immediately thereafter.”
“Vic,” snapped Nessa in real annoyance.
“No, he’s correct. They did depart,” said the countess. “But I wouldn’t have held them here against their will regardless. Be that as it may, I hope you remain close, Miss Tuppins. There is much going on here that I don’t yet understand, but it’s clear that your friendship is of great importance to Harald.”
“Yes, my lady,” said Sam, easing up just a little. “I don’t plan on disappearing just yet.”
Harald smiled gratefully up at Sam.
“Well.” The countess blinked, as if coming back to the issue at hand. “I… I can’t give you a definitive answer just yet on how I feel about your dealings with this demon prince. It… complicates matters greatly. But I will think on it, and speak with you first, Harald, before I reach a decision.”
“Understood,” said Harald, rising to his feet. “Shall I await your summons, then?”
“Yes, I think that best. Thank you, for your offer of service, for swearing your oath, and your honesty. I won’t reveal what you’ve shared with me with anyone else.”
They all rose to their feet and filed out into the entrance hall.
“Always a pleasure,” said Vic, kissing Countess Sonora’s hand.
“Countess,” said Nessa, executing a shallow bow.
Sam curtsied again, Kársek bowed, and then Harald stood before her. “Thank you for hearing me out,” he said softly. “And for being willing to consider my story. I look forward to hearing from you.”
“Yes,” said Sonora. “I… if anything, I believe the other Houses have underestimated your worth, Sir Darrowdelve. Harald. I’ll send word soon. This won’t be a matter I sit on.”
“I appreciate that.” Harald bowed low, and then turned toward the door. “Until then.”
They stepped out into the darkness and descended to their waiting carriage.
Harald climbed in last, and looked up at the open doorway to Sonora Manor where the countess yet stood, watching them leave.
He raised his hand in parting, and a moment later, just as their carriage began to roll away, she raised her own and waved back.
THE END OF BOOK 2
Comments
Christopher Abernathy
100%. I like the character building, but the pace of the plot is bordering on stale and I'm starting to legitimately wonder if the fight will happen after Chapter 100.
You fool, Warren is dead!
Maybe they return to the Angel. It would be awesome if the scales were returned to the dungeon, but at the next level down from where they were harvested. There could be a serious motherlode of scales on level 54 that has been there for 200 years that no one is aware of because it's one of those inconvenient levels you need to fight to get to, rather than go directly to.
You fool, Warren is dead!
How Yeoric Got His Groove Back. Still not liking his chances
Taylor
We need a time skip. It’s been 87 chapters and we are still prepping for the fight that was promised at the start of the series. There’s already more important fights coming than this little spat with Yeoric. Harald has a backer to keep the political crap at bay for a while, Yeoric is about to enter a training montage, and the misfits have a new more aggressive training plan to push Harald. Give it a chapter or two then have them go at it.
Fast Lance
Yh I’d like to know as well as I’d like Harald to take all the scales from this fool
Fleetpanda
Do we know what happens to someone’s scales when they die? Are they just lost forever?
