Book 6: Chapter 15 - A Settling of Accounts (RAW)

“The halls of wealth blaze with splendor, yet when fear stands sentinel at their gates, the kingdom is already a tomb.”

- Attributed to the Bard Darren Kragain of Haylesland. 

The messenger was a tall, reed-thin youth, his scale-coat hanging loose like a molting husk. Dirt clung to his cheeks, and his eyes flicked toward the carnage behind me as though it might lunge for him.

“First Tamkar,” he said, voice trembling, “the Sultana Aelayah summons you to her presence at the Mahdi Al-Maraquis, samasa.”

The words struck like a splash of glacier water. So—Aelayah had chosen her moment. Damn the woman.

“I will attend her,” I replied, narrowing my eyes, “but I must first see my men finish the last pockets of resistance. Leave an enemy writhing too long, and it will rise again.”

He swallowed. “The desert tribes have risen, Tamkar. They are already storming the invaders’ strongpoints. The generals believe we will claim victory before dusk.”

“Then what of the war-birds?”

“The Guardians—the worm-beasts of Nas Al-Rimal—have harried them. Their spines are more than their measure. Most of the eagle riders have fled.”

I raised my gaze. The sky, once graced with the sigh of dread wings, yawned empty and blue. A mercy.

“Very well,” I said. “Tell the Lady Aelayah, I mean, Sultana Aelayah, that I will come as soon as the field is secure.”

He struck fist to breastplate. “By your command, First Tamkar.”

With that, he sprinted for his dun mare, vaulted into the saddle, and thundered away.

Another damn complication that I did not need. Ever did it seem that I was putting out fires.

I turned to a soldier whose shoulders were not yet drooping with exhaustion. “Your name?”

“Sufik, sir.”

“Find Magister Larynda. Tell her to meet me where the begonias bloom.”

“Where the… begonias bloom?” he echoed, brow furrowed.

“She will understand. Go.”

Another officer nodded, ushering him away. As Sufik disappeared into the swirling smoke, I felt the wind shift—portent of whatever game Aelayah intended to play next.

***

In the distance, I saw fires from the Elven ship-fortresses, out in the distance that was once the bay of Al-Lazar. The desert tribes and Cordelia, I saw, were faithful in their duties. The suffering of the elven invaders would be a thing that would be recounted for many regenerations. A part of a just and holy war.

However, I did not, in fact, wait to secure the field with my men as I had told the messenger. Time was a commodity that was not to be so spuriously wasted. 

I would be slowed down, so I jogged alone without escort back to the city, uncaring of ambush or assault. My Strength and Stamina had grown so much now that a little run, even with my heavy armor, was of little to no consequence. It seemed to me that I noticed its weight less and less, the hard Adamantium alloy feeling more like a second hard skin than simple armor. 

Smiling to myself, a resigned smile, I took the time to go over my current status.

[Status here]

I chafed on the way back to Al-Lazar back to Al-Lazar, a morbid curiosity overcoming me to see what events had transpired that hastened my pace.

The gains had been significant—my time in the Trial of the Goddess had proven invaluable—and I could say with certainty that I had grown by another bound. I was likely strong enough now to win a small war on my own, if I played it carefully. Still, caution was always worth the effort. I had seen the cost of hubris far too many times. 

It was a price I did not wish to pay. I was not that foolish.

The men at the gates saw me and granted passage without challenge. The commanding officer hurried out to meet me and offered an escort, but I refused once again. Such trappings of honor would offer me neither protection nor speed.

My feet started to carry me to the Begonia’s shade, across the still sun-kissed streets of the City of Dust. The citizenry of Al-Lazar looked at me from behind windows as I made my procession, for they did not yet know that the war had been won outside their walls. On I jogged at a fair clip, unheeding of the cost to my large reserves of Stamina. Sultana Aelayah had asked that I join her at the Place of Dancing Water, so at once, I must go. But not, before, of course, a small detour.

It was in ways like this that those below resisted those who were above. I was learning wisdom, albeit slowly. But who could blame me overly much? For I was still young by the count of years, though I felt like a veteran of the long war.

Slowly, the streets became more and more known to me. I passed a familiar fountain whose waters murmured softly in greeting, turned a corner marked by a weathered statue, and soon reached my intended place—The Begonia’s Shade, a spot imbued with echoes of connection and nostalgia.

Larynda was leaning against the inn’s front wall, her usual sunny disposition gone somber and grey. Still, she found it in herself to smile at me and waved cheerfully. I appreciated the effort, if nothing else.

“I take it you won,” she offered, her voice carefully veiled in false cheer, her eyes shadowed by something.

I raised my visor, my world expanding. “Yes, I did. It was never to have been a duel for honor. It was ever fated to be a duel to the…”

“The death. That’s your thing right?” the girl finished for me. “Anyway, where are we going now?”

“The Salahaem. The Sultana Aelayah wishes to see me. And, I fear, for some reason or another, it will not be a pleasant meeting,” I answered simply.

“I thought as much. You know, I’ve been hearing a few things. Well, that Aelayah hasn’t been herself and stuff,” Larynda said hesitantly.

“Well, she hasn’t. Last I remember, she was stark raving mad,” I commented. “But enough of idle gossip, we must make way to our Sultana, praise be to her name and all of that.”

“You know… coming from you, those words don’t quite sound so convincing.” Larynda pursed her lips as if in thought. “You’re not going to say a quick hello to Naira, she’s just inside, you know? I think she’s been worried about you.”

“We have said all that needs to be said between…”

“Well, that doesn’t sound reassuring at all,” she replied dryly, her humor darkening into something brittle. “Very comforting. Downright cheerful. You know what I think?”

I found myself growing irate by the moment. Her manner of speech reminded me of Elwin when he was at his most annoying. “What?”

“You could just take a break… from everything. Surely you have enough money. I mean, I’ve got enough money, too. Walk away and not worry about anything until you die. We can go somewhere else… We’ll somewhere that doesn’t cost as much to live in as this city…”

“It is because of what you say that I can not simply stop,” I tried to say enigmatically.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked, truly confused, but I just ignored her.

“Come, or stay, it is your choice. I would prefer you were with me, I made a vow to protect you, after all,” I said as I started to walk away.

Larynda followed me.

***

Crossing the grounds of the Salahaem estate was always an instruction in opulence. From the many ornamental birds, each worth a king’s ransom, drifting about on the emerald green grass of the lawns, to the general grand architecture of the palace itself, the Place of Dancing Water loomed over all with its effortless and imperious grace. It was truly a place of raw extravagance without being gaudy or overly ostentatious.

The sound of my footfall on the blue marble of the floor resounded, echoing from wall to wall, as I made my way to the great hall. Fountains sprang joyously all around me, and the place was filled with the trickling murmur of water running down the walls. This was one of the many joys of the palace; it was always cool within the walls.

Guards opened the door to the great hall for me, looking at me with cautionary respect. They were Burly and big, slabs of muscle. I might have had a moment of pause when encountering them once. But now, they were to me fragile things that were too easily broken. 

I was a known commodity to the people of the Salahaem, my deeds written in the blood and smashed bones of the many I had crushed. To the man and woman, they all feared my ire.

Larynda, behind me, just called out to the two heavy guards, thanking them. I could almost hear the large pair smile. For some reason, I felt a spike of annoyance at the girl’s easy way with people.

But as the doors swung open, what met my eyes drew a sharp hiss from my lips, anger flaring before I could master it.

Two guards were flanking a blonde woman, silver blades of Saint’s Silver held at her neck. Eleonora was bound, her posture slumped with the weight of recent torment. Bruises marred her skin, and the cruel handiwork of others was plain upon her—beaten, broken, yet still clinging to the vestiges of dignity. On the throne sat Sultana Aelayah, as regal and composed as ever despite her revealing clothes. Her bearing was untouched by the violence that had unfolded outside the walls, and her eyes, seemingly calm, held no trace of their former madness—only the cold gleam of a subtle and well-hidden fear, and beneath that, a flicker of hatred barely masked.

“Aelayah, what is the meaning of this?” I said, my voice a rumble without being a shout.

There was a sharp intake of breath as the Salahaem—now, I suppose, the Royal Court—seemed to gasp as one, a near-unanimous exhalation of shock that rippled through the chamber like a devil’s wind.

“I see our First Tamkar has deigned to answer and join us at last,” she answered lazily, her voice nonetheless crystal clear and full of authority. “You speak as if you do not know what you have done…”

“Do not know what it is that I have done?” I replied in challenge.

“That you have brought such a creature into my court… to bring such a foul influence…” she replied, her voice rising as she pointed to poor Elenora.

Beside me, Larynda looked worried as she scanned the room.

“I did not know that was the reason that we are having our little spat. Let me see, I healed you of your disfigurement, I made you Sultana. I fought two wars for you, forced an alien people to the table to make peace, and the other, men and women loyal to me, are, as of right now, slaughtering to the man. I have killed more people than most in this room have years. I have slain creatures of myth, killed a legend. I have defeated a Dragon and crossed through the oceans of space and time to fight in your name. So, tell me, great Sultana, what it is that I have done to offend you so,” I almost spat, bitterness and repressed rage welling up inside me. “Tell me, what is it that I have done so wrong?”

Inside, however, I knew full well my crimes. I was becoming inconvenient, my power too great to control.

“This one… the one you call Elenora is an afreet, a drinker of blood,” Aelayah accused. “Many of the staff have gone missing since she came to live among us. She is a monster.”

I looked at the blonde woman, and her eyes pleaded with me. That woman had been a comfort to me. In her gentle doe eyes wracked with pain, I found my answer.

It was time to pronounce judgment. “Let Elenora go.”

“After knowing this… You would defend this monster?” Aelayah answered, stiffening as she stopped lounging about on her throne.

“I think that my magic must have been flawed to not have fixed your ears as well as your eyes, Sultana. I do not like to repeat myself. Let Elenora go.”

“Or what, First Tamkar of the Salahaem? Will you break your oath to me?”

I drew a slow breath, letting the weight of what I wanted to say settle in my chest, and when I spoke, I laced my voice with all the threat I could muster. “I have found you mad before—unhinged and raving. Now I see you suffer from some new affliction. So let me speak plainly, that none here can claim confusion: you will release her, now, or everyone dies. And perhaps…” I let the pause hang like a blade, “…even if you do, everyone dies anyway.”