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Blood Betrayal Page 5
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Page 5
After mere moments the door opened from within, and the guard announced while holding it ajar, “King Rederick grants you an audience, Lord Dahken.” Cor stepped through the opening, nodding briefly at the young man as he passed, to enter Rederick’s dining hall. The guard, with the slightest clinking of armor, exited the room and pulled the door shut behind him.
King Rederick had two halls in which he dined, and each had its own purpose. The first was also where he held Council, and it was huge and grand, able to be filled with dozens of long tables to seat hundreds, almost a thousand, for special functions of State. But this windowless room was small and private. An empty fireplace, large enough for three men to stand within it, was against the left wall, and a set of double doors exited opposite those Cor had just passed through, leading to the kitchens. The room was lit entirely by candlelight; hundreds of candles burned in free standing candelabras and stanchions, providing an air of confidence if not romance.
The room featured one table that was just large enough for eight to sit comfortably, one at each end and three per side, and was wrought from gorgeous and extremely rare albino oak, giving the table a natural, almost white appearance. In many respects, the table was truly plain, with no ornate carvings or details of any kind. The carpenter commissioned to make it had said, “It would be a shame to ruin it so. Albino oaks rarely live long enough to make anything from them. Let the beauty Garod gave it shine on its own.” King Rederick took the man’s suggestion, and even still, the table was very, very expensive.
Cor solemnly approached, directing himself toward the center of the table, though stopping perhaps ten feet away from it. He turned slightly and silently bowed toward Rederick, closing his eyes and lowering his head as he did so, and then he turned and repeated the gesture toward Mora, though perhaps for not as long a moment. He straightened and turned back to Rederick to find the king regarding him, almost suspiciously.
“I apologize for interrupting your meal, but I thank you for seeing me,” Cor said quietly, and he hoped he sounded sincere.
“What can the King of Aquis do for you, Lord Dahken?” Rederick asked, and Cor almost winced at the lack of friendship and warmth in the man’s tone. No doubt he had wounded Rederick deeply over the last number of years.
“It’s not what you can do for me, but rather what I can do for you,” Cor replied. “I’m here to again offer you my full allegiance and support. I have no excuse for my behavior over the last years, and I won’t make one. I’m truly penitent, and I’ll do whatever is needed to regain your trust.”
As he spoke these last few words, Cor dropped to his knees, feeling suddenly like a child begging forgiveness from a parent for some great wrong. He looked at the gray, stone floor in front of him as he awaited Rederick’s next words, fully accepting whatever came, even if it had been the blade of a sword. Cor did not shift his eyes even as he heard a chair lightly scrape the floor as it slid back from the table. A few soft footfalls sounded as a massive robed form blocked his view of the floor, and Cor looked up to see Rederick standing over him as a giant.
The king placed a hand on Cor’s shoulder and said, “I have trusted you since the day we first liberated Garod’s temple, and that trust has never wavered. I need you, Cor Pelson, as part of this world that you helped forge.”
Cor nodded silently, and Rederick removed his hand from the Dahken’s shoulder to extend it in offering. Cor took it and felt the powerful man pull him to his feet.
Cor
“Menak has already returned to his lands to prepare for our arrival. He knows it will take several weeks for us to cross West Aquis and the Spine,” Cor explained to those assembled in his apartment. Marya and Keth sat closely upon one of the couches, while Thyss stretched herself out luxuriously upon one of the divans. Brenden Joelson, the aging Western soldier never at ease in comfortable positions, stood to one side. All were armed and dressed in normal, Western style wool tunics and breeches.
“How many soldiers is His Majesty devoting to us, Lord Dahken?” Brenden asked.
Cor paused for a moment and said, “None.”
“None? If this Than’Tok becomes hostile –,”
“I can certainly handle one Loszian and whatever he might send my way,” Cor replied. Though he cut off the older man’s words, Brenden seemed to accept the answer without complaint. “Besides, I need you to stay here.”
“Certainly,” Brenden agreed with a slight bow of his head, “to watch over Lady Thyss and Master Cor’El.”
“No, they’re going with me. I need you to watch over the Dahken we leave behind.”
“Lord Dahken,” Brenden began to disagree.
“There is nothing further to say on this matter, Brenden.” Cor made certain that his tone held a finality that would force the soldier to recognize the decision of a superior, and it seemed to have the desired effect. The graying veteran closed his mouth and resumed his silent stance.
“Is it wise to bring your son?” Keth asked, the question directed as much at Thyss, who appeared as a half asleep tiger on her divan, as it was Cor.
“I won’t leave Thyss behind, and she won’t leave him,” Cor answered.
“Who else are you taking with you?”
This came from Marya, and it dawned on Cor that he hadn’t heard either of them yet address him with his title. Anger tried to rise within him, but he pushed it down, inadvertently glancing at the carpeted floor for a moment. Perhaps he no longer deserved respect; he would need to earn it once again, having squandered it by doing nothing for years.
“The two of you, and any Dahken whom you think are ready,” Cor replied. “I’ll rely on you to decide who. I don’t expect them to have to fight, but select those most capable.”
"Why did Menak not just take us with him?" Keth asked. He obviously felt a need to explain the question, adding, "Surely Lord Menak has the necessary power to take at least a few people with him back to his holdfast. Could he not have spent a day or two ferrying us with his magicks?"
Cor looked from Keth to Marya and back again before looking down upon the floor once more. He spoke somewhat sheepishly, "Lord Menak was prepared to do so. At least, he was prepared to bring me and a few others and have anyone else we needed follow on foot. I asked him not to."
"Why?" Marya asked. Cor took the sight of her in for a moment, for he hadn't realized how much of a strong and beautiful young woman she had turned into, her hazel eyes and auburn hair such a shock against the gray skin of the Dahken. She had the curves of a woman, but underneath them were the muscles of a warrior, an efficient killer. And there was something else - a haughtiness and a danger that reminded Cor of a vision he'd once had of another frighteningly beautiful Dahken woman. How many summers had Marya seen now? Perhaps twenty three?
"Because I don't know any of my Dahken anymore, including the two of you. I've allowed myself to hide from everyone and everything, pretending that I owe this world nothing, and it's not true. I'll start by again learning who my people are," Cor explained. He paused and then looked to Thyss, "And my wife and son."
Thyss perked a bit at this, much like any other feline might when sleeping lazily and something of interest occurred. She gazed at him lazily and smiled slightly. He had apologized to her the previous night after speaking with Rederick, and she had accepted it as sincere, though not without threat to his life. But such was life where the Dulkurian sorceress was concerned.
"When do we leave?" asked Keth.
"An hour after sunrise tomorrow. I don't see why we should waste time. Can you have the Dahken ready by then?"
Keth glanced at Marya, who gave an almost imperceptible nod, before answering, "It should not be a problem."
"Then we all have work to do," Cor concluded, standing.
The other two Dahken came to their feet quickly, and for just a second, Cor thought he saw a light in Keth's eyes as if he had something else to say. But as quickly as it had come, it disappeared again, Keth resuming his normal quiet resolve. He no
dded briefly and turned to leave the apartment, Marya following just behind him.
"Things just aren't right between us," Cor said after the door closed behind them.
"You must give them time," Thyss urged softly behind him. "You wounded them."
"That's strange," Cor replied, turning to face her with a mischievous smile.
"What is?"
"How often you counsel me, and this time to patience. You - Thyss, sorceress, Priestess to Hykan the God of Fire, counsels me to patience. It seems ironic."
"I am Chosen of Hykan," Thyss agreed, sitting up to touch her bare feet to the carpet below the divan, "but I am so much more. I’m a mother, and that has forced temperance upon Hykan’s fury.”
“And what of life’s adventures? Is all this,” Cor asked as he motioned around the room, “not similar to the life you may have had in Dulkur? This doesn’t bore you?”
“I have a long life in front of me, plenty of time for adventure. For now, I wish to watch my son grow and become strong.”
* * *
Cor was up well before dawn, having had one of the night watchmen awaken him. By the time the sun began to break the horizon on Aquis’ fertile plains, he had already met Keth, Marya and the half dozen Dahken they chose to bring along. Cor stood before them, his Dahken warriors, some as young as thirteen, in his black steel armor for the first time in years. His body, somewhat out of shape for a warrior, complained under its relatively light weight, and his skin chaffed where it met steel. Soulmourn and Ebonwing hung at his waist, and he could feel their joyous song almost as if it floated on the air. The Dahken themselves were glorious, all eight of them clad head to toe in black steel plate, much like their Lord.
Behind the Dahken were about a dozen Westerners checking over the horses and provisions provided for Cor’s venture, and it was from there that King Rederick’s towering form parted the small crowd and approached the Lord Dahken. He smiled kindly toward Cor, but something in his eyes showed worry.
“It appears you’re about ready, my friend,” Rederick said. “I really wish you would let me send our soldiers with you.”
“You know you have none to spare,” Cor reminded.
“Nonsense, Byrverus is well far from any attack. There are no enemies to fight.”
“I’ll move more swiftly and need less provisions the fewer bodies that are with me,” Cor retorted gently as he looked over his Dahken. He pulled his gaze back to his friend’s face and asked grimly, “Besides, do you expect that there is any foe I will face that is beyond me?”
“No, I suppose not,” the king agreed. “Is Thyss and your boy not traveling with you?”
“They are,” Cor nodded, “they just tend to sleep later than I would like.”
“Be well, and be safe, Lord Dahken. Menak will join you when you reach his holdfast on the other side of the Spine. I care not for Loszian sorcery, but he has shown me how we may speak with each other over long distances. I should expect you to contact me when?”
Cor quickly counted the miles in his head, or more importantly, the days it would take for his small band to reach Fort Haldon, the Spine and then Menak’s holdfast. From there, he really didn’t know what he expected to find or how far he’d go to find it.
“I’ll have Menak contact you as soon as I’ve arrived, and then again as I decide my next course of action,” Cor decided.
“Good enough,” Rederick nodded. “What will you do if you find that Than’Tok has enslaved our people again?”
“If it is against their will? I’ll kill him and anyone who owes him allegiance,” Cor replied coldly.
“And what if it is not against their will?”
To that Cor could only tilt his head slightly and shrug.
Cor’El
The ten year old boy with his father’s western features, gray skin and his mother’s golden hair was enjoying his favorite past time – sleeping. More specifically, as soon as his father had left the apartment, Cor’El had risen from his own bed and crawled into his mother’s plush mattress to immediately cuddle up to her. To most persons, the warmth in the air of oncoming summer would have driven from their minds the idea of snuggling, but these two enjoyed heat due to Hykan’s touch.
Until his father’s voice boomed across the room, “Will you two wake up?! It’s time!”
Cor’El opened his eyes in sullen acknowledgement and looked once at his armed and armored father before flipping from his right side to his left. His eye’s caught his mothers’ for a moment, and then he smiled and closed his eyes once more. It only lasted for a few moments before an iron grip on his upper right arm pulled him upright in bed.
“Ow!” he cried out. “Mother, Father hurt…,” Cor’El cut off his sentence to see his mother, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, standing from the bed to clothe herself.
“No, he did not,” she replied, “and he’s right. We should have been about before this.”
“Why can’t he just leave us here?” Cor’El half whined. “I don’t want to go, and Father doesn’t need us. He doesn’t need anybody.”
“Perhaps not,” Thyss replied, “but King Rederick wants him to go. And I want us to be with him.”
“Father is stronger than the king.”
“Don’t say that, Cor’El,” his father said.
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Cor replied. “He’s the king, and we respect him as such. Your mother reminded me of that.”
Cor’El looked at his father, and set his jaw with his teeth clamped together. A hint of challenge crept into his eyes, and then he looked over at his mother, Thyss. One momentary glance told him that she was in complete agreement with Cor. Cor’El’s resolve disintegrated almost instantly and he sighed loudly as he crawled out of his parents’ bed.
Could his father have possibly picked anything more uncomfortable than this trip to Eastern Aquis? The entire affair disgusted Cor’El, starting with the riding on the backs of foul smelling animals for twelve hours each day at least. They woke every morning just before dawn, broke their fast and then rode until sunset without stopping. Of course, he’d been taught how to ride at a young age, but he certainly enjoyed no part of it, though his father looked rather excited to be on the back of a warhorse clad in black steel to match its rider. The horses smelled terrible, and at the end of each day, his muscles and rear end ached terribly.
It wasn’t just the riding and the horses. The food made available for the trip was absolutely awful. Breakfast generally consisted of a small share of salted pork, cooked in whatever old and greasy iron skillet was available. They stopped for no other meal, each given a small ration of jerky or worse – nuts – to hold them throughout the day. If they were lucky, someone could manage to catch a small rabbit or maybe even some fish from a nearby stream when they stopped for the night, breaking the monotony of salted pork. Of course by the end of the first week, it all tasted the same, having been cooked in the same skillet with no water spared to clean it.
The weather stayed fair, but the countryside grew hot with summer, causing the afternoons to be perfectly miserable. Of course, Cor-El wore no armor at his age, unlike the others, nor did he plan to at any age, and even his breeding did nothing to assuage his silent complaints at perspiration. The other Dahken sweat horribly in their steel, underclothes soaked to the bone when the band finally stopped for the evening, but none more than the Lord Dahken himself.
Finding sleep was virtually impossible the first few nights. Away from the city and its sounds, Cor’El found himself beset on all sides by nighttime noises the likes of which he’d never heard before. Choruses of insects sang every night at almost deafening levels. Two nights they camped near streams, and while the cacophony of the insects was not nearly as loud, it was now supplemented by the gargantuan bellows of great frogs. On the open plains, they would hear the howls of wolves in the night, and sometimes great beasts he could not see would move about just beyond the failing light of the campf
ire or soft glow of the moon.
And the ground was ridiculously hard underneath him with nothing but a thick wool blanket to soften it.
Cor’El watched with sullen annoyance as his father bore all of the same burdens as the others, with not one word of complaint. It made no sense to Cor’El at all. His father was nigh a god himself. Having actually slain the Loszian gods, he was in many ways more powerful than the gods, and yet he continued on as if a mere Westerner. At first, it puzzled Cor’El, but as the days droned on, his puzzlement turned to resentment. Cor could easily handle alone whatever is going on in East Aquis. What did he need to drag Cor’El and his beautiful mother across the continent for?
The torture continued even after they reached Fort Haldon, a journey that took two weeks or so. Cor’El found himself most displeased to find they wouldn’t be stopping there long enough to enjoy a decent night’s sleep. The garrison commander there, a garrison that was now little more than a token force as there was no need to protect West Aquis from East Aquis, provided them a decent mid-day meal. Beyond that, they stayed only long enough for Cor, Keth and Marya to pay their respects at some old tomb on a hill. Cor’El didn’t know whose resting place it was, nor did he really care. From what he’d been told, many people had died here.
Leaving Fort Haldon to enter the Spine was not what Cor’El had expected. He’d heard his father’s stories more than once, and the pass through the Spine had been described as a cold and desolate place, bereft of life with the exception of the occasional scraggly tree or local fauna. This was no longer the case. The group entered the pass shortly after a small group of merchants and their wagons. The pass connecting the two sides of Aquis appeared well worn, as if countless feet, hooves and wagon wheels had traversed it over the last number of years. While this was different from Cor’El’s expectation, it was no more interesting or comfortable.