“Take your Sword Bearer Battalion and your Royal Guard, and march towards Deadwood,” Elder Peace said. “You will inform them personally of your surrender, and they will relay the information to the other towns and cities. Return by the end of the week, or we will march on your capital.”
The King, confused, nodded his head and marched towards Deadwood, with his Sword Bearer Battalion, King’s Sword, and his Royal Guards. He watched as a group of ten Iyrmen followed, each keeping roughly a hundred paces away from them.
“We still out number them three to one,” a Major said.
“Did you see what they did to our greatest warriors?”
“Do you truly believe all their men are as strong as those?”
“Their strongest weren’t even part of the duels.”
“Do you really think they were the strongest? It was just a show.”
“What about the Iyrman and the big bird?”
The various leaders turned to look at the huge bird, which was currently being admired by several Iyrmen, who had only heard of the creature through stories.
“Looks delicious,” one of the Majors said.
“Delicious,” another replied.
Elder Wrath and Elder Peace called the Iyrmen together. Elder Peace threw a glance to Elder Wrath, and then bowed his head. “I will leave the soldiers to you.”
Elder Wrath couldn’t help but crack a smile as he approached the soldiers. “I see you’re all still eager,” Elder Wrath said.
The Majors straightened, though General William stepped forward, taking the lead. “We hadn’t expected to surrender so quickly, without much bloodshed.”
“We didn’t expect such cowardice either, but your King wasn’t as foolish as we thought,” Elder Wrath said, his tongue loose.
“You should be more respectful of the King,” General William said. “He affords you such respect.”
“I’m sure you see and hear respect from the words of your King, and see and hear disrespect from we of the Iyr, doing so as you please.” Elder Wrath glanced all along the Majors, seeing how eager they were for a fight, and the soldiers in a mixture of terror and excitement, though many more were terrified than excited. “Should I ask for respect from our prisoners, or should we begin our justice?”
General William stared at Elder Wrath, noting how the Iyrmen had readied themselves, having formed ranks. They hadn’t been asked to surrender their weapons, the soldiers each holding onto their spears and shields, and they had just begun to set up a camp nearby, under the watchful gaze of a few Iyrmen.
“Now, now,” General William said, his eyes glancing between Elder Peace and Elder Wrath. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Our culling is to begin,” Elder Wrath said. “Since the Majors are so eager, should we begin?”
General William didn’t reach for his blade, trying to find the words to try and calm the Iyrmen.
“To arms!” a Major exclaimed, and the soldiers each quickly formed ranks.
“We shouldn’t do this,” General William said, still staring at the Elder, who stood only fifty paces away.
The Iyrmen roared, charging forward as they drew their weapons. The front line, several hundred men strong, crashed up against the soldiers of the Kingdom.
The King was blissfully unaware of the slaughter behind him. He marched his soldiers to Deadwood, to see a hundred soldiers on its walls, and six trees, each planted roughly twenty paces from the wall, and were almost as tall.
The Deadwood defenders blew a horn as a Major stepped up to see the King approach with his hundreds of soldiers.
“Our King has arrived!” shouted the Major. “Open the gates! Quickly!”
“Open the gates!” came the confirmation.
“Your Grace, be careful, the Iyrmen are still around!”
“It’s alright, Major,” called the King. He threw a nod towards the Iyrmen nearby who had trailed them the entire way over the last three days. “We have surrendered to the Iyrmen.”
The Major narrowed his eyes at the King, but seeing the King’s Sword at his side, the Major merely bowed his head.
“Would the good Lady be willing to put up with us for the night?” the King asked.
“She’s dead, your Grace,” the Major said.
“Dead?” King Solomon stared up at him.
“She was assassinated a week ago.”
The King swallowed.
It hadn’t taken long for Lord Deadwood to invite the King inside, explaining the situation to one another. The King hadn’t expected the Iyrmen to be capable of assassinating the Lady, not considering the defences of the town.
“I will ask that the various Priests be willing to send word to the capital,” the King said, rubbing his head.
“What message should we send?”
“We should inform them of our unconditional surrender.”
The King marched his army back to the plains, their steps heavy. Even the Sword Bearer Battalion had been affected by the soul crushing existence known as the Iyrmen. What they saw was a most gruesome sight.
A large mound had been created, and there were still a few hundred bodies which needed to be buried. The thousands of soldiers he had left behind were nowhere to be seen, save the few hundred dead. There were a few dozen small mounds which had been created since his departure, and another few which were made of the soldier’s equipment.
The Rukh remained nearby, swallowing a few of the bodies whole.
“What is the meaning of this?” the King called, marching his way to Elder Peace and Elder Wrath, who were currently sitting and drinking tea with the two cloaked figures.
“The culling has begun,” Elder Peace said, simply, sipping at his tea.
‘The culling?’ King Solomon shuddered at the word. He had surrendered unconditionally, but he hadn’t expected a mass execution.
“It is a shame they ran midway through the battle,” Elder Wrath said. “Many Iyrmen are still hoping for a good fight.”
“Is this some kind of game to you?” King Solomon asked.
Elder Wrath almost grinned. “A game? Elder Peace, what do you think?”
“Your Kingdom must pay the price of betrayal,” the Elder said. “You still have a debt to pay.”
“If I had known you would have slaughtered my men, I would have fought.” The King clenched his fists, feeling Blacksword at his side call for him.
“If you had fought, those at your side would not be here today.” Elder Peace motioned a hand to the Sword Bearer Battalion. “You are unchained, with more than five hundred of your most loyal warriors at your side. Your surrender had allowed them to return to their families, but did you think of us as little mice?”
Elder Wrath glanced all around them to see the soldiers, each on edge. “If you wish to denounce your surrender, I will send along most of the Iyrmen here to your capital, and we may continue our war.”
Elder Peace had been rubbing the red bead for weeks now, even after the surrender. He knew that the war had yet to end, for this was not a land where the King’s word was law.
“I told you he was lying,” an Iyrman from behind said, taking a dagger from another Iyrman. “They broke their word once already, why did you expect any better?” He was speaking in the Kingdom’s tongue, obviously meant for the King to hear.
The King grit his teeth, but he bowed his head. “I surrendered unconditionally, that has not changed.”
“No, but you wish to posture as though you are a greater King that you are,” Elder Peace said. “You should know, it was your Majors who wished for a fight. Your General had been reluctant, but if we had allowed him to live, you would have thought we were willing to show mercy.”
“Oh dear,” one of the cloaked figures said, standing up. They pulled back their hood and stared down at the King. “Solomon, didn’t I tell you to think about your actions?”
Solomon stared at the older man for a long moment, his eyes growing wide. “Grandfather?”
King’s Sword bowed his head, staring at the older man. He had almost knelt, but a King’s Sword only knelt to one man.
“I see you’re both doing well.” Garld pat his grandson on his shoulder. “I had thought you were doing so well, especially with the various wars. I had half a mind to congratulate you whilst you were up north, but I thought against it.” His gentle, warm smile faded slightly. “I thought I told you about the Iyr?”
“The greatest key to the Kingdom is that of the Iyr,” Solomon said, repeating what his grandfather had told him when he was a boy. “I can only regret the matter now.”
“Once the debt has been paid, we may negotiate a new treaty, but it will be done in good faith.” Garld sighed. He could see his son in Solomon. Solomon had been a much greater King than his father, save for the singular mistake which had caused the Kingdom’s fracture.
Solomon bowed his head, ashamed. He hadn’t expected his grandfather to be alive, but the meeting was marred by the shame he had caused. He never wanted his grandfather to see him like this.
“You’ve done well to keep him safe,” Garld said to King’s Sword.
“It is my honour,” the man said, bowing his head. He hadn’t expected to meet the great King of Blackwater, Garld the Wise. His decisions had allowed his family to take command of the entire region, hundreds of miles in every direction, for generations to come.
Garld went around to speak with the Sword Bearer Battalion, speaking to them about their families. The entire battalion was made of the children of the various nobles, mostly from Central Aldland, but quite a few were from North Aldland too.
“Has the message been sent?” Elder Peace asked.
“It has,” King Solomon replied, defeated.
The Iyrmen also sent word to their various companies, leaving a single company behind to remain around the towns and cities, and the rest split into two. Half of them would return to the Iyr, and the other half would pretend to return to the Iyr.
In less than a month, the Kingdom had been torn apart.
The Iyrmen, with the King’s army, marched towards the capital. It had been a grueling journey, taking no more than a week, but they could see the huge walls of the capital.
There were hundreds of men on the walls, all ready with bows. There were no more than a hundred, as many of the young men, and a few of the women, had joined the army.
Gantalia glanced about, sniffing the air. He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly as he went deep into thought. “Hmmm.”
“Your King has returned,” Solomon declared. “Open the gates!” He rode towards the gates, with a few of his Royal Guard.
“Do not believe in their tricks,” Whiteheart said, staring down at the approaching army. “It is an illusion.”
“Treason, Whiteheart?” King Solomon asked.
“Treason? I won’t fall for the ploy of the savages,” Whiteheart declared.
King Solomon stared up at Whiteheart, but there was a small knot building within his gut. ‘Where are they?’
“The King must be dead!” Whiteheart declared, throwing out his hand. “There is no way he’d surrender so easily to the savages! Kill the imposter!”
A few of Whitehearts men pulled their bowstrings, knowing the lies of their master, but they were going to follow his building so their families would live comfortably for the next one hundred years.
“Jaeryael!” Solomon exclaimed as his soldiers pulled back, raising their shields to protect the King.
A few arrows managed to slip through, the wall, as the arrows had come from every angle, but Elder Peace and Elder Wrath caught and destroyed them with ease, appearing from nowhere.
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“The Kingdom has yet to deal with its internal issues,” Elder Peace said.
“If it remains unstable, won’t the Iyr be threatened again?” Elder Wrath asked.
“My thoughts exactly.” Elder Peace stepped away with Elder Wrath, as the King and his warriors pulled back.
A roar echoed through the capital as emerging from Blackwater Lake, came a long, magnificent creature. It flew overhead, its golden scales glittering under the evening sun, as it flew all across the capital and towards the army outside the walls.
The dragon was long and thin, like serpent, though none would dare call such a magnificent creature a serpent. As it dropped from the skies, it shifted into the form of a beautiful woman, with tan skin, long golden hair, and bright gold eyes. She was wrapped in the finest white and gold, as all expected, and wielded a blade at her side, one which would make even the Blacksword seem like a toy in comparison. It was long and made of diamond, with thousands of tiny runes etched within it, made by a dwarf whose name was all but forgotten.
“Boy, what is it?” She yawned, before noting the Iyrmen all around. She blinked away her sleepiness. “Iyrmen?”
“We have surrendered to the Iyrmen,” King Solomon explained, trying to not escalate the situation.
“So they don’t threaten the capital?” Jaeryael asked.
“The capital is taken by rebels.”
She dropped her torso backwards, like a snake, and looked at the walls. “Oh, I see. Shall I ask them to surrender, politely?”
“Jaeryael?” Gantalia asked. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh? Gantalia?” She snapped back to attention. “I knew I smelled someone familiar. I joined with the Kingdom, oh, a half century ago?” She could smell another familiar being.
“Jaeryael,” Garld said, waving a hand. “As beautiful as ever I see.”
“Who is this handsome man? It couldn’t possibly be that little boy all grown up?” Jaeryal smiled towards Garld, stepping towards him to grab at his chin, leaning in to admire his wizened face.
King Solomon watched as the pair of dragons and his grandfather chatted away casually. ‘What is going on?’
The Iyrmen stared at the golden dragon, eager for a fight, but they could see Elder Wrath and Elder Peace ready to beat them if they started any trouble.
Razfan stepped forward and brought out a dragon chess set to play with Garld once the old man was done talking with the dragon, but a few more sets were brought out by the dragons so they could play together.
“I always expected to fight the Iyrmen, but to think I’d fight alongside them,” Jaeryael said, moving a piece. “Shall we rain down our breaths upon the capital?”
“They’re still in high moods,” Elder Wrath said. “Let us set up camp and talk.”
They set up camp not a mile away, with Elder Wrath sending a message to the other Iyrmen who had retreated from the various lands. Those who had retreated to Westhall, where the Iyrmen had created a small fortress to keep an eye on West Fort, read the message. The Iyrmen there noted West Fort had sent a small army, which marched towards the capital.
“What are we to do?” The King asked, standing within the large tent the Iyrmen had created, King’s Sword at his side. He was missing General William, who had been killed by the Iyrmen before him.
“We will return your capital to you,” Elder Wrath said. “Your debt seems to be increasing, King Solomon.”
The King sighed, thinking what an unfortunate series of events had passed. “It was Whiteheart who petitioned for the Iyrman’s death.”
“It was your mistake in not being able to dutifully keep him in check,” Elder Peace replied back, simply.
“Politics in the Iyr are different than the politics of the Kingdom,” the King said.
“Your Kingdom will forever remain fractured,” the Iyrman replied. “Though it does not matter, for the Iyr is willing to increase your debt.”
King Solomon sighed. He’d be unable to take back his capital with just his King’s Sword and the Sword Bearer Battalion, but with the Iyrmen, it would be easy. Yet, they did not attack, not yet.
It didn’t take long until good news arrived for Master Whiteheart.
Lord Whiteheart had travelled with his White Knights, leading a force of a thousand fresh warriors towards the capital. They would be arriving within two weeks, and would flank the Iyrmen from behind, or force them away so that Lord Whiteheart could take the throne.
The other various Hearts had also sent for their own armies to march on the capital, where it would be bathed in blood, all for one of the various Hearts.
The Iyrmen and the various soldiers had taken to a nearby village, which was straining the resources of the various villages. Inevitably, there would be those who would try to sell out the armies, but the Iyrmen had shut down the village, not allowing anyone to enter or leave.
They had cut down a large number of trees and had made a wall around the village, a large pit had been dug all around the village, in case they were going to be assaulted.
A week passed by, and the scouts had reported the actions of the Iyrmen and the other Hearts to to each Heart. Assassins had been sent to each Heart and the Royal Family, but none had succeeded, as none of the assassins had returned alive.
It had been a week since Whiteheart had heard that the Lord was on his way, but he received a new message from one of his men.
“Dead?” Master Whiteheart said, staring at the man. “How?”
“The Iyrmen assaulted the army with a small army and…”
“And what?”
“Two dragons, and a very large bird.”
“Two dragons and a large bird?” He blinked. “Where did the Iyrmen get two dragons?” He thought about the golden dragon he had seen, but they also had another?
“I don’t know, my Lord, but there was a silver dragon, a blue dragon, and a black bird.”
“What kind of nonsense are you spouting? A blue dragon and a silver dragon?” Master Whiteheart exclaimed, slamming his hand on the table. Lord Whiteheart was meant to come here to become King, and give him the role of Lord of West Fort. He didn’t wish to be King, for the West Fort was easy living for the most part, and came with enough power. “Who else knows?”
“No one, my Lor-uck!” The messenger choked on his blood, a blade pushing through his throat.
“Good,” he said, letting the messenger drop. He would need to wait and figure out a way to gain an ally from one of the other Hearts, or perhaps multiple Hearts. As long as he could become Lord of West Fort, he did not care.
The three dragons returned back to the village, though the large black bird had remained with the supporting forces which were marching towards the capital.
“Have you brought them?” Elder Peace asked, staring at the dragons.
“Such brutish methods,” Jaeryael said, shaking her head at the Iyrman.
“You were the one who wanted to burn the entire capital to the ground,” Gantalia said.
“Not the entire capital, just where the rebels were.”
Elder Peace checked for the requested items, and once the King confirmed them, the Iyrmen marched towards the capital, a force of one thousand Iyrmen, and a little over five hundred from the King.
As they arrived, Elder Peace stepped forward. “We come bearing gifts,” the Iyrman said. “Bring forth your masters.”
Once the three Hearts appeared, they noted the lack of the Queen and Master Blackheart.
Elder Peace was handed a spear, and he placed a head upon it. He repeated this until he revealed the heads of Lord Whiteheart, Lady Redheart, and Lord Blueheart to the Masters, who remained safe behind their walls.
“They had led an army to the capital, but I’m sure you’ve heard what has become of the armies,” Elder Peace said. The three had led an army of a thousand soldiers, each who tried to ride up towards the capital to claim it. Lady Redheart hadn’t specifically aimed for the capital, but her end goal was to take it, and so she had been dispatched too.
“It… it must be an illusion!” Master Redheart said, shocked, seeing her sister’s head on the end of a spear.
The army from the south would have come from South Fort, no doubt, which was so far away from the Iyr, almost as far as the capital, but they would have had to move through so many hills and the forest nearby.
The army at East Fort should have arrived a short while ago, and yet, how had they been killed? How did the Iyrmen move so swiftly?
The heads were left in front of the capital, and the various Hearts within panicked. Soon came the army from North Fort, led by Lady Blackheart, who had been the only Lady to be left in peace to march to the capital in order to assist her cousin.
“I didn’t believe it, even from the words of Mistress Dragon,” Lady Blackheart said. “The Iyrmen, who my army was so eager to meet in combat, had joined with the King to retake the capital.”
With near four thousand soldiers around the capital, with the support of three dragons, Jaeryael, Gantalia, and Rogryaen, and the Rukh, the soldiers within surrendered.
The King marched his soldiers in to arrest the Masters who had conspired against him.
As the King approached the royal palace, wishing to find his family, a roar pierced the air, and a black sword was caught by Elder Peace, who pinned Shakrat down.
The orcish Iyrman shook violently with rage, foaming at he mouth, his eyes rolled back into his skull. He was red, his veins throbbing, and was struggling against the Great Elder’s finger.
King’s Sword drew his sword, and Elder Wrath reached for his greatsword, though did not pull it out yet.
“What is the meaning of this, Iyrman?” King’s Sword growled.
“You should sheath your blade, King’s Sword, for your life is not guaranteed.”
Shakrat was like a mindless beast, fighting up against the Peace Elder, who then shoved a finger deep against the boy’s back, keeping him still and frozen.
“I cannot have you threaten our King.”
“Your King only lives because we guarantee it,” Elder Wrath said. “You are still our captives.”
King’s Sword remained, sword drawn.
“Why did your man attack me?” Solomon asked, staring at Elder Wrath.
Elder Wrath raised a brow, before pointing towards the palace. There, where torches once lay, were two rotting heads. One of an orcish Iyrman, and another, his bride.
The King swallowed, bowing his head. He placed a hand on King’s Sword’s arm, having him sheath his sword.
The King quickly made way to the secret chambers to try and find his family, leaving the Iyrmen to deal with the bodies and heads of the deceased Iyrmen. He found no one in the secret chambers. Panic filled the King as he checked the other areas, followed by King’s Sword, before returning to find the Masters.
“Where are they?” the King glared at them.
“Where are who?” Master Redheart asked.
“The Queen, the Prince, and my grandchildren. Where are they?”
“We haven’t seen them in some time,” she admitted.
“What did you do to them?” The King growled, unable to contain his rage. “Do not think any of your family will be safe after laying a hand on my family!”
“Well said,” an Iyrman said, having appeared from nowhere.
The King turned to face the Iyrman, but King’s Sword had already drawn his blade.
“Your family is safe,” the Iyrman said. “They will be returned to you soon.”
“What?” Solomon stared at the Iyrman, who he didn’t recognise. “You have them?”
“Your family was abducted within the first few days, and have been kept safe. The one you call Master Blackheart was escorted to safety as well, for I heard he is your cousin.”
“You’ve held them this entire time?” Solomon asked.
“Your grandfather has asked for their lives to be guaranteed, and we of the Iyr have promised such,” the Iyrman said, simply.
“You didn’t tell me?” Solomon stared at the Iyrmen, filled with disbelief.
The Iyrman smiled. “The confusion only helped destabilise the situation.”
The King stared at the Iyrman, who remained standing there, ignoring the threatening King’s Sword. Could he have sent King’s Sword to save them? Could he have sent anyone to save them?
‘These Iyrmen are terrifying.’
“Now that you have your throne, it is time,” the Iyrman said, leading the King and King’s Sword back to the throne room. He had surprising understanding about the palace’s layout.
The King sat down upon his throne, surrounded by various nobles, who would bear witness. Elder Peace stepped forward, holding out a sheet of paper, which the King would need to speak into law. This was the first time the King had read it.
“I, King Solomon of Blackwater, take full responsibility for breaching the treaty signed by my family and the Iyrmen. I also accept the responsibility fo the ensuing war, and the costs associated, including the price for the Iyr’s help in restoring the Blackwater Monarchy. As compensation for the war, the Iyr will be ceded territory from the Forest of the Iyr up to Five Bends. The Iyr will also be given compensation in the form of ten thousand gold a year for one hundred years, and the famed blade of Kal Blakvatr, the Drakkenslayer. Those who rebelled against the crown, Blueheart and Redheart, will step down from their positions.” The King stared at the paper for a long while, seeing the last few requests.
Elder Peace nodded his head.
“For the price of breaching the treaty, all those related to Whiteheart, and all the citizens of West Fort, will be handed to the Iyr. The Iyr will be given West Fort for a period of ten years.” The King fell silent for a long while, before he looked to Garld, who sighed, and nodded his head. “Minor Prince Gerald, and Minor Princess Annabethe, will be handed to the Iyr.”
The announcement was sent throughout the Kingdom, Priests sending word to all the other towns and cities.
“They won’t accept this,” King Solomon said.
“We have considered the aftermath, which has been included within the debt,” Elder Peace said. “You must explain to the Prince about the matter of Minor Prince and Minor Princess.”
“Do you swear you will not harm them, Elder Peace?” King Solomon asked. “If I hear you’ve hurt them, I don’t care about the price to be paid, but I will march on the Iyr.”
Elder Peace looked to Garld. “They will grow up in the Iyr, as Iyrmen. They will be raised the same as any other Iyrman, and that includes the rights and responsibilities of the Iyr which will be formed on their bodies and mind.”
The King bowed his head, rubbing his forehead. Losing so much gold would hurt, but it wasn’t anything that would destroy his entire Kingdom, but to lose his grandchildren, it was a matter he would be unable to explain to his son.
“We will get to work,” Elder Peace said, turning to Elder Wrath and nodding his head.
“Work?” the King asked, wondering what the Iyrmen were plotting.
“We will take West Fort at once,” Elder Wrath said. “We will take our compensation.”
Shakrat was being kept aside, restrained by bundles of rope and cloth. They had made sure his head was protected as he was bound.
Elder Peace made sure to gather the bodies of both Akrat and Timothy, placing them within coffins, before he and hundreds of Iyrmen, returned back to the Iyr.
Elder Wrath took the remaining soldiers to West Fort, leaving behind a company of Iyrmen to make sure the King kept to his word. He had lost all trust from the Iyrmen, and so they would keep him close. They were also tasked with protecting the Iyr, as the rumours of the Iyrmen’s prowess seemed farfetched, even if they were coming from the Sword Bearer Battalion.
“Darling,” the Queen said, finally returning to her husband.
“My Queen,” Solomon said, embracing her tight.
Jarot went off to get some food from nearby, partaking in the celebratory feast, which was to lift the mood of the capital in order to prepare for war. ‘He didn’t even wait for me,’ Jarot thought, thinking about how Elder Wrath had gone to West Fort. ‘Should I take Big Crow?’
A week passed, and news came to the King.
West Fort had fallen.
The dragons and the Iyrmen had made quick work of the fort, apparently by assassinating the family of the Whitehearts in the night, before they assaulted in the late hours of the night. A big black bird was seen dragging away all kinds of people, before it feasted on the dead.
South Fort had heard the news, and had instantly send word of their intention to follow the King’s decree. The Redhearts, who didn’t live within South Fort, surrendered their position within their city, and were exiled from the land.
The Bluehearts refused to obey, and had their armies ready for the war. They had sent word to the nearby Kingdoms on their ships, but by the time they returned, East Fort had been taken. The mercenaries who had been hired tried to fight to take back the city, but were quickly put down, and they surrendered. The returning troops had learnt of the situation. The Bluehearts had been assassinated within their homes within a week of the Iyrmen’s appearance outside the city.
The Iyr had gained a thousand children from the war, and thousands of slaves. They were brought back to the Iyr. When the Void Month came, the blood of the slaves spilled in the darkness of the Iyr, all unbeknownst to almost all Iyrmen.
“Baktu, Baktu, Baktu,” came the chants from deep within the Wild Iyr, where the thousands of slaves were
Shakrat finally came conscious from his ragefever, and the ten Iyrmen tasked with looking after him for the months he had been taken, spoke the tales.
He watched as two of the children played.
Arykan, a boy who was beginning to show a resemblance to that man already, and Salgek, who shared the same blood, but was being raised in another group.
“What are you thinking?” Kasomin asked, rubbing the stump of his leg knee.
“My brother and sister refused to come home,” Shakrat said.
“No,” Kasomin said, “but your nephew did. Will you not see him?”
“I can’t bear to face him,” Shakrat replied, his voice dull.
“You’ve washed away the shame, Shakrat. At least let him see your face, the face of he who had regained the honour of his father.”
Shakrat remained silent for a long while, and Kasomin left him to his thoughts.
“I’m leaving,” Shakrat said, finally.
“Where to?”
“To the north,” Shakrat replied, staring at the children still. “I want to see the north that he saw. I want to see them, the people he saved. They must know the tale.”
Kasomin nodded his head. “I would like to see it too, the north which had been saved by your brother.”
The pair of Iyrmen left the Iyr, never to step foot in their home again.
Once the Blackwater Crisis had ended, King Solomon made his way through the land for the next year, establishing his rule in each town and city, surrounded by a hundred Iyrmen and a hundred of his Royal Guard, which had been formed from the disbanded Sword Bearer Battalion.
The Iyr assisted in picking the new rulers of each region, and with the rule firmly established, they returned home, with no Iyrman stepping foot within the Kingdom for the next fifty years.
It was Chief Tamin and Elder Peace, who was once named Arykan, who would create the next treaty with King Solomonson, only once the giants had come to threaten the Kingdom again. They joined forces with those called the Black Rats, a group formed of humans, orcs, and drakken, who fought with great savagery, to push back the giants.
But that is a story for another time.