Virian Strode into the great hall of his palace with a confidence he had not felt in…well, ever. He wore his best suit of armor: a practical, yet elegant breastplate atop a cuirass of mail completed with plated gauntlets. His favorite longsword dangled from his hip as he took his position at the top of the raised dais where his chair waited. Only he did not sit. He wouldn’t be here long.
The council of the richest and most influential nobles sat along the large console table below, already waiting for him, even at this late hour. A few gave him mildly appraising looks, as though his armed appearance perhaps amused them, but the overwhelming atmosphere reeked of hostility. Deep scowls lined the faces of the nobles ousted from their manors in the middle of the night.
Virian almost laughed at them. Why had he ever let such a corrupt group of pompous idiots push him around? After facing down an archbishop, Armond, Rose, and Ivy, the men and women before him were little more than children. Yet still, before he could get a word off, Duke Ferron shot up from his seat, a near snarl on his face.
“What is the meaning of this, Virian?” At that, Virian did let out a small chuckle. All pretense of respect had been dropped. “Your guard practically rounded us up! And in the middle of the night, no less! Explain yourself!”
Virian didn’t answer immediately. He let his gaze travel around the perimeter of the room where over two dozen soldiers stood at the ready. At the back of the room where the councilors would have entered stood commander Tamren. Virian nodded at the man, who returned the gesture. After Virian's plan to save Ivy from the church had also led to the rescue of Rose, the man had remained fiercely loyal to Virian—as had the rest of the guard. It seemed the entire royal barracks was in love with her or something. Armond might have to watch his back. Ha.
“Sit down, duke,” Virian said, finally.
“Excuse m—”
“Now!”
His voice suffused the room, obliterating the duke’s objection. Virian wasn’t sure he had once raised it to such a level, much less directed toward the council. He couldn’t help but think it shook the stones for how stunned the councilors were. To a one, they were frozen, expressions a far cry from their initial annoyance. A silence fell after, and eventually, Duke Ferron did retake his seat without another word.
A wide smile threatened to creep onto Virian’s face, but he kept it in check. He had a job to do, and his satisfaction could wait.
“I’ve called you all here,” he said, “to tell you what’s about to happen. Your ‘council’ is not needed, nor wanted. So just sit there and listen.” He descended the stairs leading down from his throne to where the councilors sat one step at a time. “As of tonight, Atrican is no longer part of the Cauchemar Kingdom.”
While that might be confusing, seeing as it was technically still his last name—and he was setting himself up as the de-facto ruler of New Atrican—he wasn't too concerned with semantics at the moment. Besides, he had given up the name a while ago when he had dropped out of the line of succession anyway. No one had called him “Prince Cauchemar” in ages, and it was actually treason to do so. Before he could think more on it, Duke Ferron opened his mouth again.
“What are you babbling about?” It seemed he had found his courage again.
“Duke” Virian said, “You must have a very short memory. Your council has not been requested. If you haven’t yet learned how to keep your mouth shut, I can provide assistance.” He had just reached the head of the table, and leaned forward, placing both of his gauntleted palms face down. The duke maintained eye contact for a second or two, grumbled something under his breath, and looked away.
“Good. Now, I would prefer if such a move was not necessary, but the church has gone too far.” With that, he actually got a few nods from the nobles. “My brother—the king—will back the church, but Atrican can no longer sustain itself under their rule. Already they embargo trade by ground. I’m told tomorrow they aim for the docks.”
It had only been two days since he had secured Armond’s help, and his spies had concluded they needed to act as soon as possible.
“The witch-hunt will never be satisfied,” Virian went on, “we can’t break their siege. So tonight, the church is no longer welcome in Atrican.” A few gasps went out, but more nods this time. “Right now, the gates are being shut. The small force they have inside will be dealt with. Their siege is meaningless if we have the port.”
With that, he removed his hands from the table, and walked right past them towards the far door where Tamren was waiting. He heard whispers and mutterings between them as he walked, but no one dared challenge him directly. When he reached Tamren, he spun on his heel to address them one last time.
“Oh, and since you lot are a bunch of opportunistic pieces of shit with no loyalties except to yourselves, you get to stay here until it's done.” He turned to Tamren. “No one leaves.”
Tamren nodded. “Of course, your highness.”
Virian pushed open the wide double doors of the meeting hall and strode out, shouts hitting his deaf ears before the heavy wooden door was refastened, drowning them out. He felt a little guilty about leaving poor Tamren with that mess, but Virian had full confidence the man would have no real issues. A part of him wished Tamren might have to kill the duke to shut the rest up, but that was more a dream than anything. Tamren had proven quite capable since Ivy’s flight from Atrican, thus why Virian had promoted him quickly.
In the atrium beyond the council room, he found Rose and Armond whispering back and forth to each other, just at the top of one of the set of mirrored, curving stairs that led down to the foyer of the palace. He couldn’t hear them from his distance of about twenty paces, but based on Rose’s pinched brow and pursed lips, it was clearly an argument. Great. This was the last thing he needed right before going after a patrol of paladins.
Virian had insisted on being a part of tonight since it was his idea to begin with, and for some reason, Armond had volunteered to be his partner. Truth be told, Virian preferred a contingent of guardsmen, but they were all otherwise occupied. And Armond had also assured him that Virian himself would mostly just be in the way. He found that hard to believe considering their target was a patrol of three paladins in the noble district, but arguing with the man was near impossible. Virian assumed a bunch of his dockmen would show up for the ambush.
When he reached the two, he managed to catch the final words of Rose before she turned away from Armond to greet Virian with a nod.
“There’s no way I’m missing this after what they did to me.”
Ah. So that’s what it was.
“Weren’t you the one furious that Ivy messed everything up by attacking them?” Virian asked.
Rose let go of a weak laugh.
“We can’t go back now. Might as well get a bit of revenge. It’s been many years since I’ve killed a paladin.”
Virian shrugged. Just a few months ago that statement would have left him with an open-mouthed stare. These days, pretty much nothing out of Rose’s mouth surprised him.
“Are we ready, then?” he asked.
Armond turned to Virian and rolled his eyes. The big man also had a layer of chain covering most of his body, but no solid steel armor. Instead of a sword, a four-foot polearm was strapped to his back. Its head held a hand-length triangular spike on one end, hammer on the other. Other than that, a five-inch blade that looked tiny compared to Armond rested at his hip. He shot Rose one last look, then stepped onto the first stair down.
“Yes,” he said, descending.
Virian gestured for Rose to go ahead of him and she moved without a word. In her case, she wore nothing but the same thing she had worn the last time he had seen her: an all-black get-up complete with cloak and hood. She probably had a weapon in there somewhere, and the outfit actually made sense in this case.
They followed Armond down the white marble stairway into the equally pearly foyer, and out into the courtyard. The palace grounds were empty, only a sliver of the moon illuminating the midnight air. All of his forces were either ambushing their own targets, or confining the nobles. It was a strange sight he may have never seen before just now. The guard stayed active all night and day, all year round. But now? Nothing.
Virian took another look at Armond’s…weapon. He couldn’t help but think it looked more like a carpentry tool than a weapon.
“That’s what you're fighting with?” he asked.
Armond glanced back at Virian and laughed.
“That’s what you’re using?” The man’s eyes flicked to Virian’s sword. “We’re fighting armored soldiers, not cutting down peasants.”
Huh? Was there something wrong with a sword?
“Yes,” Rose said, but explained no further. A shiver crawled down Virian’s spine. He hated her doing that.
“Does someone want to share?” he asked.
“It won’t matter,” Armond said.
Right. Of course it won’t. Why would it? They were just about to go hunting the most feared warriors in the world. Virian was still waiting to see Armond’s men shadowing them, but he never spotted a one.
When they reached the outer gate into the district, it had similarly been left unguarded. Beyond the palace complex, he wished he could say it was different, but alas, the streets of the noble district remained as dark and gloomy as the palace. It didn’t take the three of them long to spot the paladin patrol. And vice versa.
They had just exited the cathedral gates, and were heading down the main road that led to the south gate of the noble district. Rose waved at them, smiling.
“What are you doing?” Virian asked in a hushed voice.
“Relax,” she said, “they’re dead inside.”
“That doesn’t mean you should mock them!”
“They don’t even understand what ‘mocking’ is anymore. Never did most likely. Dosed from birth, most of them.”
“That’s…terrible. But how are we supposed to ambush them when we’re actively seeking their attention?”
Rose stopped her cheery wave and looked up at Armond.
“You mean you aren’t just going to charge in there swinging? Show us how you got that oh-so-scary nickname, darling.”
Armond stopped his advance toward the paladins, causing Virian and Rose to follow suit.
“I have two fools to keep alive,” Armond said, “even so, no, I would not do something that reckless. Twenty-five years ago, maybe.”
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“You’ve gotten soft over the years?” Virian asked.
“Soft? No. Smarter, yes.” He resumed his pace. “Just pass them, we’ll circle around.”
Sure, why not? Both parties kept on, a hundred or so paces from each other. All three paladins were in full gear, head-to-toe plate armor, visors down on their helmets. He had no idea how they could even see out of those things. Two men and one woman as far as Virian could tell from their bodies, but no guarantees on that.
No one said anything as the distance closed. And closed. And then one of them stopped and turned just as Virian’s group was passing by.
“Your highness Prince Virian,” a male voice said. His tone was completely flat. Like a hollow shell just as Rose had said.
Virian and the others also stopped.
“Yes?” he said. “What is it?”
“I see you are armed tonight.”
“Yeah…well,” Virian looked to both of his companions before focusing back on the paladin, “can never be too careful, I guess.”
“True. This city breeds corruption. The stench of hell still lingers.”
“O-ookay.” Did he mean from Ivy, or could he sense Rose somehow? No one else had. Even when they were trying so hard to.
“Your preparation is inadequate for the terrors lurking in Atrican, prince. The effort you,” he paused and turned his head toward Rose, "and your friends put forth is wasted. And unnecessary."
“Right. Well, good luck hunting down hell, or whatever.”
Virian tried to walk away, but the paladin kept talking.
“Your Highness. The palace has not been inspected in some time. With your consent—”
“Oh. Yeah.” Virian turned back in the direction they had come from, toward where he had just got done confining the nobles so that they would not leak anything about neutralizing the paladins. “Well, as you can see, I’m a little busy right now. It’s late. How about tomorrow?”
The paladin simply nodded, turned his head back forward, and said one last thing before moving on, “first light.”
In a few moments, they had turned down a side street and disappeared as the three of them just stood there, watching.
“What did I just do?” Virian asked.
“Strangely enough,” Armond said, “exactly what we needed.”
“What?”
“Now we have a time and a place.”
Huh. Nice. The three of them headed back to the palace and Armond stopped them just inside the outer courtyard gate. A narrow stone archway tunneled through the wall where they would have to funnel through, which he deemed perfect. Virian plopped himself down on the lush grass and counted the stars while Rose and Armond huddled off to one side of the gateway, chatting softly. He closed his eyes for just a moment, and before he knew it, the smallest hint of blue shined on the horizon. Metallic footsteps rang out against the cobblestone road.
Wow. He blinked a couple of times, eyelids a little heavy. he must have a dozed off for a moment. Or two. The paladins really did mean first light. By the time Virian raised his head, Armond was in position off to one side of the door, polearm at the ready. Rose had…vanished? Whatever.
“Where are your men?” Virian asked, getting to his feet.
“Men?”
It suddenly dawned on Virian why he had never spotted any backup. Which meant...wait. No, no, no. He meant to take them on with just the two of them?
“Are you insane?” Virian asked. He could feel his heart quicken as the panic set in. “I could have summoned some guardsman from the council chamber!”
Armond said nothing, only waved him to be quiet. Virian had no time to do anything now, as the paladins were in view of the door. He…smiled.
“Welcome!” he shouted out. “As promised, my gates are open!”
They, of course, said nothing, only continued their ceaseless advance. Just as they were passing through, Armond lifted one hand from the haft of his weapon, holding up three fingers. Virian’s heartbeat thrummed ever faster, ever harder. Two fingers. One.
Armond wrapped both hands around his weapon and swung just as the first paladin crossed the threshold into the courtyard. The hammer portion of the head crashed into the female paladin’s helmet, caving inward deep enough for Virian to suspect she was long dead before she hit the ground. The second paladin already had his sword drawn, and Armond raised his weapon out in front of him, charging forward. The paladin's sword struck the wooden grip of Armond's polearm, but Armond pushed forward, his massive bulk slamming the paladin into the wall. They got tangled up in a grapple, both falling to the ground.
It all happened so fast, and Virian realized he had frozen up the entire time. He wanted to keep watching, but there was one more paladin, sword drawn, eyeless helmet looking right at Virian. He fumbled at his waist, managing to draw just in time to block an overhead stab from the paladin aimed at Virian’s neck. But the paladin knew exactly what he was doing, sliding his sword along Virian’s up to the cross guard, turning Virian’s blade aside. It opened up another opportunity to reach Virian’s throat, and he had to twist both his body and sword hilt to avoid losing his head.
The paladin’s sword barely missed, scoring across the mail of Virian’s shoulder and down his breastplate. But the maneuver also put Virian off balance, and he was forced to jump back to regain some semblance of a stance. The paladin came at him again, and it took all of Virian’s ability to just not die. He protected what he needed to, but took two more—not so soft hits—to his gauntleted forearms.
His assailant remained relentless, and Virian's hands were throbbing from the blows he had taken. Just when he thought he may not be able to fend off any longer, he noticed Rose out of the corner of his eye. She slunk forward with feline agility, a thin sword in one hand. On the next strike from the paladin, she slid it deep into the crevice of armor plates at the back of his right knee. He fell to a crouch, and Rose rolled to one side as his blade swung in a backward arc.
But now Virian had a free opening. He looked down at his sword and sighed. Screw it. He flipped the thing around, gripping it by the blade, and swung it with all his strength—cross guard out—at the paladin’s head. It connected with a bang, and the man fell to one side, motionless.
His gaze flicked beyond his downed opponent, but apparently had nothing to be worried about. Armond’s second paladin lie face up in the grass, visor ripped open, bloodied dagger protruding upward. Armond himself was already upright, heading toward them, polearm over one shoulder. A light spattering of blood speckled his face and chainmail, but he showed no other signs of having just been in combat, much less killing two paladins.
It was difficult not to be impressed by the man. What was he like, over fifty? And still...
He saw Rose watching Armond as well, likewise unfazed by the short, brutal fight. She was just sitting there neared the downed paladin's head, hood thrown back, a genuine look of affection draped over her features. Even when she turned and noticed Virian observing her, she didn't mask the expression.
"I think you understand now," she said.
"Under...stand?"
"Yeah, you do."
Virian dropped his sword from his iron grip that was cutting into his palms and let out a long, heavy breath. It seemed killing a few holy warriors was what it took to arouse Rose's interest. They were both insane. So was Ivy, for that matter. It fell to Virian to somehow manage all the crazy people he had surrounded himself with lately. Maybe that was his specialty. His thoughts went to Ivy again. Well, he hadn't done a great job of keeping her happy.
When Armond reached them, he raised his weapon high, but Rose held up a hand.
“No,” she said, “we leave one alive. For me.”
Virian shuddered at what that meant, and thought the other two might have been the lucky ones.
“Alright,” Armond said, shouldering his weapon, “let’s find out how the others did.”
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An hour or so later, Virian, Rose and Armond were sitting in his office in the dock district, the early morning sun still rising. Reports kept coming in through his people, none of it appearing to upset the lord of the Atrican underworld.
“Well?” Virian asked.
“A few losses,” Armond said, “nothing too staggering. All the paladins dead. Clergy mostly handled. Dead or restrained.”
Virian let out a deep sigh. He wanted to avoid killing noncombatants if possible, but he couldn’t complain too much about such a clear victory.
Another scout barged into the office, slip of paper in hand. Armond took it, a scowl immediately forming on his face.
“What now?” Virian asked.
“My man tailing Ivy ran into a problem.”
Virian stood from the couch he was lounging on. “What does that mean? Is she alright?”
“She confronted him, apparently. He...got away," Armond paused to shake his head as though he couldn't believe it. Virian couldn't either. "But he’s understandably in hiding now, so he lost her.”
None of that made sense.
“Why didn’t he just tell her who he was?” Virian asked.
“I told him not to.”
“What? Why?”
“She left for a reason. If she knew we were tracking her, the chances of her killing our spy are fairly high, I’d say.”
“Oh come on, she’s not like that.”
Both Armond and Rose burst out laughing.
“Okay well, with the church, yeah but—”
Their laughter drowned him out. They did have a point. Virian just wanted to believe the best of her. She wouldn’t kill someone for such a small thing, right?
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Rose said, eventually recovering, “if she’s in Rhune, I’ll get word soon.”
Virian looked from Armond to Rose. Her cloak had been tossed aside, sitting in a little puddle of black fabric at her feet, and she was sitting with her legs crossed both hands atop one knee. More than anything, she looked...content. Pleased with herself.
“What? Rhune? That city at the edge of the world? That’s where she was headed? What’s in Rhune?”
Rose grinned.
“Witches.”