Chapter 46: Clan Dissonance

“Feed us Seymour.” I chanted out, causing a bouncing, slightly painful, chorus for food from all around me.

Seymour, reportedly the clan’s best cook, had sent me a small thing of gruel for my morning meal. Whether it was because he did not realize I was a mage, or he only meant to send food for Arc, I did not know. What I did know was that I needed more food and if he had shorted me on purpose, it was a particularly bad sign.

Naturally, I assumed the worst and did my best to remember what little I heard about the man from when the River Stalkers lived around Entrials. After I did, I made sure to come prepared for battle.

When Seymour turned to face me he was greeted by one oddly young looking mage carrying a squad of energetic children who were literally sitting on or hanging off of him. That we had, one and all, yet to eat their first meal of the day.

“What in the twelve are you doing?!” Seymour looked like he was caught between wanting to laugh and scold the children I was carrying. Truthfully, they were quite heavy and uncomfortable, but the light joint pain was worth making a good impression as the cook in question loved kids.

With the sun only just rising I had not expected to find this many children running around, but it appeared that the clan’s social standings had been disrupted. Specifically, while I was surrounded by clansmen, I could spot some groups with clan markings on their arms or foreheads, while others seemed to have no marking at all.

I did not see them coming in, but it quickly dawned on me that there were more clansmen here than just the Entrials River Stalkers. A fact that I was both discomforting and reassuring at the same time.

“Alright, there you go, now off with you.” Seymour turned to me after he finished serving the last of the children, “I thought you might be one of the old kin, but you are the newcomer right? Should you be walking around unescorted?”

Old clan? People they left behind when they went east? “It is against the law to keep a mage hungry, besides I have the mark of a friend of the clan.” I grabbed a bowl and held it out for him, “please?”

The man obliged me, taking the bowl to fill it, but did not stop asking questions while he did so. “Those kids are good judges of character, but even with all the old clan coming and going they should not have trusted you that much.” He turned back and glared at me, keeping a healthy amount of some type of broth, with some bread on the side, out of my reach. “How did you get them to play along?”

“I told them a story about the time I fought a group of killer plants.” Feed me Seymour!

“That is it?”

“That is it.”

Seymour studied me for a moment before sighing and passing me the bowl with the bread balanced on top. I promptly traded this for another empty bowl and pointed out that I did not come here alone.

While he was getting more two interesting things happened. First I realized that despite some rather nice spice growing islands to the south of the continent, spices were still a luxury. Though the broth was still better than anything I would have made. Second, my guide/guard found me.

“DeMorte was it?” I turned around and found three men standing behind me. Two were armed with those enchanted spears, but they were standing behind a mage who clearly bore the clan mark on his cheek. “My name is Memnon, I was sent to make sure you had not gotten lost.”

I looked at him and nodded, more interested in my fresh, downright fluffy, bread, which made up for my slight disappointment in the broth.

He noticed. “I was sure that someone was meant to send you a morning meal, perhaps they missed you?”

I kept a neutral face. “Someone might have sent some gruel by accident, forgetting that I am a mage and that I have someone else to watch out for.”

His face did not twitch, which caused me to sharpen my look as he gave his apology. “Ah, a shame, but these things do happen on occasion, you have my apologies.” The bow was somehow… sarcastic.

Seymour spoke up at that point, “stop being a smart-arse Memnon and you, Mort was-?”

“DeMorte”

“-DeMorte, right, here is your companion’s share and do not let Memnon both you. He is just one of the more overprotective types who sees all outsiders as a possible threat.” I accepted the second bowl in my free hand and thanked him before starting back to the tent.

“You know Memnon,” I did not look at him, but I could feel his mana close behind me, “if you were just security prone I would not care, but disrespect is something else altogether.”

“Oh? I apologize if I seemed that way, but I assure you it is not the case.” He spoke lightly, not sounding annoyed from my slightly faster than usual pace. Interesting.

“Feel free to explain.” I called back.

Nothing…

Heh’s relief-hole, one of those types was he? He was probably analyzing my movements and reactions and trying to figure me out. Gods above knew I loved tricking these types, but I rather not have to come up with an act on the spot. “Good luck.” I called back.

“With what?”

“Trying to figure me out, my wife took half a decade.”

“Who said I was trying to figure you out?”

We walked back to my tent in silence after that, only to have a slightly flustered looking man standing outside pacing.

“Hello, looking for someone?” I gave him a carefree smile.

“Sir DeMorte? Yes, you must be. Where did you go? Food? We could have brought that. Why did you not tell someone? Do you like sneaking around or- no never mind, I am to escort you to the Clan Heads once you are finished eating.”

An analytic behind me and a panic prone gopher in front, lovely start to the day. “Fine, after Arc and I are finished we will get moving.” Noticing the tent flap was oddly pinned shut – something that would reseal the temporary wards I created – I deactivated them and looked at the gopher. “You mind?” I nodded towards the tent and held up the two bowls to show my hands were full.

“Of course,” He rushed forward and pinned one opening for me, before standing aside and holding the other. “Though I do have to request that you finish quickly and do not go wandering around anymore, as it caused me quite a bit of trouble.”

“If that was the case then you should have posted someone as my escort and had him ready outside my tent before dawn.” I ignored the fact that there actually were a few guards outside my tent when I slipped out. They had been the ones to bring me that insultingly small snack they called a meal.

We moved back into the tent proper and Arc went from a tense crouch to her feet in a moment. A smile flashed across her face as her whole body seemed to relax. I realized that leaving her in this place all alone was not the most observant move. “Eat.” I cut off any possible response and handing her one of the bowls. “They did not poison it, I checked.”

She blinked and meekly accepted the bowl while glancing guiltily at the gruel. I originally told her to go ahead and eat it while I got a double serving for myself, but it would be better if she stayed healthy.

“Y-y-you have our hospitality, yet you check our food for poison!?”

I turned back just enough to look at the man and spoke coldly, “I came here to see if you were rapists and murderers like others claim.” I then put down my own bowl and turned back fully to face him. Taking a few steps forward I walked him to back up out of the tent. “While I have decided that you and yours are not those people, I check all of my food for poison and would do so even if my own children had made it.” I stopped at the tent entrance as the man finally realized that he backed up out of the tent, “I do hope that you do not take it personally.”

I removed the pin, but did not reactivate the wards as I went back inside, as such temporary measures were hardly my real protection. I had my not removed my iron since I got into the camp, though I had not openly worn my sword while going for food.

I turned and almost asked Arc if she was alright, but she was happily alternating between the bread and broth. I sighed internally before sitting down to eat as well, the woman would either become someone very helpful or a hindrance. Either way, she needed to work through her issues, but I was hardly one to talk about that. Right Bella?

Later, I made sure that my iron weapons were more obviously secure and reactivated the wards before we were led across the camp. To a noticeably larger tent that was oddly without wards of its own.

It caught me off guard and I started to worry if they did that to make me drop my guard as we were led in, only to find that things were slightly different than I expected.

Mathalaus and Memnon were sitting together directly across from the entrance, but noticeably distant from the tent wall. At least a full spear’s length distant, which was saying something given that, even if it was easily the largest tent I had seen in the camp, it was still a tent in an area with a fair amount of trees. That there were 5 distinct groups, each with their own mages around them as guards.

Each group had a different clan mark, with one notable group even having theirs on their chests, which they left exposed. I felt Arc stiffen beside me and silently hoped that she would not do or say anything stupid. That said, my hopes reversed themselves as the group noticed her and sneered.

Clobbering heads in ‘polite’ society would likely get you enemies, but in rougher places it was more likely to get you respect… provided the clobbering was asked for in the correct way.

I tried to project a calm demeanor and studied the room, which appeared to be returning the favor.

Mathalaus had not changed since I last saw him, still every bit the small mountain in human form. He did have some small signs of aging, but I would guess that it was more stress than him actually getting old. Even sitting down the man was a wall of muscle and quiet intensity that I freely gave my respect to.

The others, however, were unknown to me, with each group besides Mathalaus’ having three people.

One group in particular got my attention. They had their mark on their forehead and were led by a fat man who was either a non-mage merchant or someone like me, given his complete lack of any obvious magic. The friendly smile on his face as he nodded at me did not stop a calculated once-over when he saw me.

The man’s guards also had some interesting muscular builds, primarily because they were more or less hidden by a layer of cultivated fat. Combined with the obvious ease of their stances despite the tension in the room reminded me of some assassins I had met in the past, I immediately labeled them as ‘Assassin Merchants’ in my head… before immediately shorting it.

Another group, with their marks on their hands, were the exact opposite of the Ass Merch, at the center of a small storm of agitated mana. They were mages on my own level, but if they were this unpracticed at controlling their mana, then they were less of a danger than most… or maybe they were trying to impress the others.

Either was possible as their leader was a woman who actively leaking killing intent, mostly at the muscled morons who seemed at to be trying to decide whose presence they took most offence with. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt and call them the Fish, old slang for an unbloodied soldier.

Then there was the Fodder. I really could not think of them as anything else, they were the idiots glaring at darn near everyone despite having only the smallest amount of magic as far as I could tell. They seemed especially offended at the two women in the tent.

The last groups was much more forgettable, reminding me of some of the Histones, with no noticeable muscle builds and only a bit more magic than the fodder. The Bookworms also had a portable stand with some writing material set up behind their leader, which one of their number was already getting to work on.

“I am curious. I am CURIOUS…” I spoke into the small chaos and a few people stopped speaking to look at me, but it was only when I repeated myself that the conversation all died down. “Who thought showing an outsider like me this shameful internal conflict was a good idea? Or perhaps the fact that three of the five of you look ready to kill is just an illusion?”

I was half sure this was all an act. Why call me in on something like this unless I was meant to see this?

Fodder and Sieve looked dismissive while Ass Merch seemed to turn just slightly at that and I noticed that his smile no longer reached his eyes. The Bookworm just looked confused and Mathalaus kept an admirable straight face.

“The rude sapling makes a point, who invited these vermin into the meeting of chiefs?” Fodder thumped the clan mark on his chest. “An armed and armored sapling at that! The disrespect!”

“I did.” Mathalaus rumbled. “Proof that even outsiders can see how childish we act.”

“You did or your daughter did? No, forget I asked. It hardly matters who moves your part of the clan as long as you do not damage the rest of us. Which brings up the obvious question: Why did you invite the sapling here?”

Obviously he heard of my incredible skills regarding the human body and wanted to ask me to increase the amount of intelligence in the room. I rolled my eyes and ideally checked with Bella to see if any nearby Nalks had heard that and were laughing at my sarcasm.

“Perhaps he just wanted intelligent conversation for once, Ufuoma?” That was the Sieve, unknowingly following my thoughts.

“I am glad to hear you admit that you do not qualify, but please do remember to let the adults finish speaking Rawiya.”

I noted that the newly identified Rawiya, the sieve, was indeed the youngest of the five who I had identified as heads. Not that it made the subsequent burst of killing intent any less annoying.

Most of the group did nothing more than shift at it, but Arc and the Ass Merch did give me something slightly entertaining to watch. While she went from a tentative sitting position to a half-meter jump, the Merch just casually tapped, or turned, something in his sleeve.

Moving past those two however, I had to admit that I was impressed by the Fodder. This guy made enemies so fast I started thinking about how I could hire him to work for my enemies… then discarded the idea. Those self-righteous mercenaries who called themselves ‘Adventurers’ were my only open enemy at the moment and they were arrogant enough as it was.

“Perhaps it is something important that you do not want to delay with bickering?” Memnon sighed.

“In that case I propose that we simply ask the person in question and give them time to answer it.” Bookworm’s voice surprised me for not sounding sarcastic in the slightest.

“Seconded.” The Ass Merch sounded happy enough, but the fact that he was currently more laconic than Mathalaus annoyed me a little.

The mountain in question, rumbled, “DeMorte, tell them.”

I shook my head, this was a mess and the longer I stayed here the more I wanted to start bashing heads. Seeing my seeming refusal to speak the Fodder started to speak, but I cut him off. “Silence, you should all be chiefs of some sort and this lack of self-control is either an act for my benefit or a declaration that this clan is doomed. For the sake of everyone here, especially the children outside, I hope that it is the former.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Now, to put it simply: I was asked by someone who knows Mathalaus to investigate a series of attacks. These attacks seem to have had no overall point, but they were conducted smoothly enough to keep any evidence from being left behind, save for one of the most recent.

“That raid did leave one thing behind, a dagger that bore the mark of a burning tree. This mark was apparently partly melted in said fire, but witnesses saw the symbol and associated with the Clan.” There was a sir, but I talked over them. “The Lord has since come to the conclusion that the River Stalker Clan has something to do with these attacks and is on his way with a noticeable force to investigate you as a threat”

The small, but surprisingly contained, explosion of conversation that resulted was somewhat expected. Though I found the Sieve and Fodder chiefs’ actions most interesting. The Fodders lost their scornful look and the lady reigned in both her killing intent and her magic all together. She still leaked a bit into the surrounding air, but the look on her face confirmed that she had been leaking her magic on purpose.

I was about to tell them to be silent again when I heard someone behind me and Mathalaus shot to his feet. “Elder.”

I looked behind me to find an old woman being helped into the tent by Janeen. She was very old too, so much so that I was honestly unsure if she was not physically older than my mental age. She had her clan mark on her face like Mathalaus and Janeen, but I did not recognize her from Entrials.

“What are you brats doing?” The first words out of the crone’s mouth had my respect already, though she did not stop there. “Arguing amongst yourselves like this, shame on all of you. The clan might well be in danger again and you all want to squabble like Gathich in heat.”

I watched as the room seemed to visibly shrink back at her statements, save only Mathalaus and Janeen, who just kept their heads bowed respectfully. Where had she been earlier? She was quickly taking control of the room with just a few words and all save Fodder did not even try to stop her. “Elder, with the deepest respect, this is a meeting of heads and it is my understanding that you have forfeited your position to your son.” His eyes glanced at the small mountain of a human now glaring at him.

Son? Mathalaus? Well now…

“No Ufuoma, this is supposed to be the reunion of our great clan, though I see most of your followers have yet to arrive. Regardless, I had to hear from my granddaughter that we had a visitor that claims to bring news of danger. Then I come here expecting to see preparations being made and instead what do I find?” She glared at Fodder “panicking children.”

“We were in the middle of asking him about that when you arrived, but perhaps all those years of skulking about in the woods has-”

“Ufuoma!” Mathalaus’ shout silenced the room.

The elder shuffled forward until she stood in front of the muscular idiot. “We have been together for only a small amount of time compared to how long we have been apart. However, we are one Clan all the same. We will face more obstacles in the future and we will not fare well if we falter at this stage.” She sighed, “It does not sound like we will have time for the rest of your branch to arrive Ufuoma, they and their gifts will be worthless if we fall before then.”

I blinked. This Fodder graveborn was acting like this when he had yet to even bring his own men to the encampment? Seriously? How many Stalkers were there anyway? I quietly shook my head and started pondering the anatomical possibility of Fodder’s stones and brains being mixed up.

Finally starting to realize that he was being a fool, Fodder scrambled. “Yes well… I- With respect Elder, we could hardly plan for three armies to suddenly decide that they wanted to move to their borders for a war. Or would you rather they lost both their lives and the weapons they bring?”

“I would rather that they had already arrived, but we will have to deal without them, regardless of how great their achievements have been. Now if you are done making unnecessary excuses, I have yet to introduce myself to the young ladies.”

I coughed politely, cutting off any additional comments from Fodder, this was taking too long for my liking. “I am DeMorte and I am neither young nor female.”

She turned to face me and gave a nod, “I am Fikriyya, Heartwood of the clan you know as the River Stalkers. My apologies for the confusion.”

Heartwood? Clan I know as? I nodded back, “It is fine, just a simple mistake I am sure.” Or was it? “At least you introduced yourself, which is more than I can say for the rest of the room. Oh and please do not bother doing so now,” I added eyeing the heads one by one, “I prefer the names I made up in my head.” I returned my gaze to Fikriyya and gestured at the woman beside me, “This is Arc.”

She gave Arc a long look and walked over to take her hand, “my condolences. This world is a harsh one, but being involved in such events is always a tragedy.”

“…Thank you.”

I refused to shake my head at how quiet Arc was being, I would also have to check her for curses later, regardless of the lack of mana I felt from the old woman. For the moment though, I decided to get back on topic. “I was just about to answer questions about some possible trouble for your clan.”

“Like why we should even believe you?” Fodder was quickly starting to earn a new name in my head, ‘ignorant fool,’ but then again, there was always one in every group.

“Indeed.” Fikriyya shot Fodder a look, “I would like to know that too, but first,” She continued talking as she hobbled away and took Mathalaus’ seat, after he voluntarily evacuated it for her. “Why you think our Clan is in danger, the short version, please.”

“I was asked to investigate some attacks, I subdued some unrelated bandits who took advantage of the chaos after an attack. Afterwards, when the local patrol arrived to investigate the area they talked about a dagger with a burning tree on it.”

She narrowed her eyes and I observed the multiplying wrinkles with slight interest. Looking younger or older with my magic would be fairly easy, but I needed years of information to actually guarantee a longer long-span itself. “The soldiers assumed that we were responsible just from that? That is not even our clan symbol.”

“No, the Lord got involved and after someone, somehow, made the connection he started looking for mercenaries.”

Fikriyya latched onto the word and spoke up when I paused. “Mercenaries? Not guard? How did you hear about that?”

“He tried to hire me. However, I found it alarming that he immediately went to start gathering mercenaries, especially after I asked around and found you way up here. I briefly wondered if it was one of your sub-groups, your ‘branches’ I believe, however that seems extremely unlikely.

“I try not to think that plans this obvious are true, but there were hardly any Histones consulted on the matter.”

Fikriyya nodded gravely and aged before my eyes as she considered this. “How long ago was this?”

I shrugged. “It was only a few days ago, but I would imagine that it would not take him long to put something together. The question is: how serious is he about you? I saw those spears of yours and if you have any other tricks then anything less than a full mage company would be useless.”

“Then why risk it?”

“He probably has no idea how many are here, or that people like her are on your side.” I nodded to sieve, who sat up slightly straighter in response. “Also, if he thinks that there is more like the Mithril coin I was given then I would say that he is coming here to extort a payment.” I shrugged. It was what I would do, but I was a Tyrentus, a self-made king, not a multiple-generation entitled noble.

“If that is the case,” I added, starting to speculate “then his word as a noble would be enough to at least push you out of this kingdom if you do not pay. Regardless of what you do however, he could say that you proved your innocence or betray you and march down south for reinforcements…” I paused and realized that I was starting to analyze the situation too much, as if I planned on staying for that. “Though it would depend on the Lord in question and I only met him briefly so I am unsure myself.”

She made a point of meeting my eyes. “Then we at least have some time to decide on our next action and prepare. Now then, why should we trust you?”

I returned her gaze with a hurt face. “Beside the fact that I am a friend of someone you trust? Beside the fact that it would be very hard, if not impossible, for this information to hurt you if you handle it correctly?” Beside the fact that I could kill you all?

“Yes, because an unaligned group suddenly fortifying before a Lord came for a visit would certainly not affect their opinion.” I opened my mouth, but she overrode me. “Also, I know Bella and not you. That girl is hardly the type to leave things alone, yet you are here and not her. You could have met her and stolen the coin for all I know. In fact, why did you ‘investigate’ these attacks if Bella was so interested that she gave you her proof of clan friendship?”

I could not tell she was lying, did that mean she had met Bella as an infant or that she was that accomplished a liar? Probably the latter given how she talked about Bella, but it was not something I could remember. Well, it was not like I did not anticipate that kind of question. “You have not heard about the accusations against the famous temple to Hoh?” After she shook her head I continued, “I heard that someone left an accusation of Soul Magic being the key to their famous wards.”

Fikriyya scoffed, “There is always someone accusing someone else of Soul Magic from the shadows. There has not been an actual Mage around for centuries.”

“Regardless, Bella stayed there for a time, so when the accusation was given to the Histones, she went running back. Straight into one of the first attacked villages, where she found something concerning.” I paused for a moment, “She danced around the issue somewhat, but she admitted that she was worried and asked me to look into it. She even gave me the coin, saying that she heard your clan was in the area and I should make sure you were okay while I looked into it.

“I read between the lines and decided to make sure that a young talent like Bella did not do something like cover up your involvement unjustly. She did seem rather certain that you might be in danger from such a group though.”

Janeen, interestingly, gave a small, proud, smile at my story about Bella, but Fikriyya was watching me carefully. “Oh? Yet you came here into our camp basically by yourself. Did you trust Bella that much? She did not seem to trust you enough to explicitly say her thoughts.”

I leaned forward and looked the old woman straight in the eyes before reaching inside to draw out the old look that I had spent decades cultivating. It was subtle in most ways, a particular seriousness in my look and a resolution to kill in my eyes. On the whole though, this was me letting her see the Bandit King, the human monster who had butchered his way to a crown. The crone’s eyes widened in response and I noticed the rest of the fools draw back, with the Ass Merch and his guards in particular tensing up noticeably.

Ah, fear, finally. Did they finally get the message that I was not a normal person?

“Bella knew enough that she was not concerned over my safety and besides, I could still kill everyone in your clan if I so desired. I just chose not to since I have come to believe that you honestly have nothing to do with the raids.” I pulled back with my body and my old self. “That and after you spend five decades killing others, it is not uncommon to wonder if you cannot save a few more lives instead.”

I sighed, letting the tension in the room deflate. I swore I felt Bella patting me on the back for a moment, but I was obviously mistaken as, a moment later, I felt a barrage of insults accusing me of trying to start a fight.

“In any case,” I continued, “I am curious about what you plan to do.” I let my eyes flick between Mathalaus and Janeen briefly before turning back to Fikriyya. “As I would hate to have to tell Bella about how three generations of Stalkers were wiped out because of a bit of pride. Or would it be four?” I looked pointedly at Janeen’s widened hips and raised an eyebrow.

“That would be none of your business if it was DeMorte.” Fikriyya’s stated, both solemnly and defensively, to which I grimaced and nodded. Death was a common thing, that three of Bella’s siblings had died before we even left Entrials was proof.

“Never easy losing a child. I remember how my wife reacted whenever I…” I left that sentence unfinished. It was hard to lose a child, but it was even harder to accept killing your own.

That was one of the ironic benefits of being used to the Guilt – everyone felt like a lifelong friend for that moment after I was finished killing, I knew them perfectly before the memories left my body. The only major difference between killing a stranger, only to suffer through the Guilt, and killing one of my own, was that the memories of those graveborns was my own and took longer to sink to the back of my mind.

Fikriyya frowned, “You sound far too experienced for your youth; how old are you boy?”

I smiled lightly, pushing away the memories again, “I stopped counting a while back, but I think I am a bit younger than you.”

Fikriyya gave a brief smile of her own and shook her head. “That is hardly an answer, you think that you are younger than me?”

“Indeed. Anyway, if you want answers to more questions about myself, I would like some of my own answered first. After all, if you do not want to tell me what you plan on doing, than please at least do me the decency of explaining why this.” I gestured to the room at large. “As it seems like there is a story there and I am curious.”

“Perhaps another time then, I would like to discuss this matter with the Clan.” Drat, I went too far previously.

“You sure? I have a habit of making up stories if left alone. Why not tell me about this Clan while we are here? It seems you have been separated for a while and I doubt it would hurt to recount your origins.” It was also better than having them concentrate on me, also… “I honestly have no idea what a clan even is. An extended family system of some type?”

“Another time. I believe that it is time to discuss the response to this development,” she glared at me, “privately.”

“Of course, though I will be staying in this camp a bit longer, unless you demand that I leave, so feel free to come ask me any questions you can think of.” I slowly stood up, “I will just find something to do in the meantime.” I stood up to leave and felt Bella push a memory forward. Back when Fikriyya called us female there was something she said… wait, no, it was not her, but Fodder.

Yes, he said something about three armies? If they were diverted by three… no I am jumping to conclusions… Haereticus is an important port for its position between the three kingdoms, but there is no guarantee it is anything more than that…

Still, they had a stash of mithril, why not its counterpart? The city states were always looking for fighters and if the Fodder were seamen they might have experience dealing with the constant pirate problem… I would have to poke around later, adamantine was still a mystery to me.

Well, I still had their permission to stay a few more days, but why put it off? It was not exactly late in the day.

“I will show you and Arc around.” Memnon volunteered, to my mixed interest and annoyance.

Showing me and Arc around eh? Heh. “Very well.”

*     *     *

Sunset that evening:

Janeen quietly smiled as Memnon groaned, almost collapsing next to her, “There are times I hate my life.”

She rolled her eyed and gave her father an amused look. To anyone else he looked uninterested, but she could see the small lift that was his version of a smile. They had been eating dinner together wondering if the Clan could finally come together in the face of an outside threat when Memnon arrived. “Which one caused the trouble?”

“Everyone caused trouble, although Arc was the only one blessed enough to try and stop it.” Memnon sighed. “DeMorte just crushed the pride of our clan’s youth instead.”

“What?” Janeen looked over sharply at Memnon and he just shook his head, shoving a large serving of food down his gullet and coughing a few times before he answered.

“He found some of the young ones practicing rather energetically he started correcting them and a few called him,” Memnon paused, “some unpleasant things. Which led to a few sparring matches.”

“Matches that he won I take it?” Janeen asked dryly, there had been more than enough pride in the head meeting, their clan did not need more of it.

“Matches that he made fools of them in, while fighting 4-on-1, with one of our special training spears, while – as it turned out – in armor, and all without breaking a sweat.” His voice was quiet as he replayed the match in his head.

“He was using one of our spears?” Janeen knew from personal experience that they were weighted differently on purpose to hide what the Clan’s enchantment specialist had done to them.

“For the first time.” Memnon sighed and then added “by the way, you owe him an apology. One of the young bucks was actually using an enchanted spear and fired the head at him.”

Janeen saw her father freeze at that news, but the way Memnon was talking… “He dodged.”

“He caught the spearhead barehanded.” Memnon said deadpan. “Then healed himself in moments.”

Janeen just shook her head, “please tell me you at least saw that one was punished.”

“I did not get a chance to, DeMorte dropped the bloody spearhead on his head and told him he was better than that… Not that he was one of ours anyway.”

“Memnon.” Mathalaus warned.

Memnon just raised his hands “I know, we are one Clan, but it is hard to convince everyone else of that, which reminds me, how did the rest of that meeting go?”

Janeen sneered “The Elder was the only one speaking with a fully functioning brain.”

“That well? Lovely.”

She snorted, “how about you? Did you learn anything useful about DeMorte or did you just court his companion the whole time?”

Memnon sent her a scathing look, “I spoke to her as much as possible to find out more about DeMorte as the man seems to have decided not to talk to me if he can avoid it. The problem was that she only recently met him and…” he paused, looking unsure of himself, “she treats him like he is something beyond human. It was a little much, even if he did save her.”

Another snort, from Janeen as she resisted the urge to tease her cousin any more, instead turning to Mathalaus. “What did you think of him Father?”

Mathalaus stopped eating at that point and looked up at his daughter and took a few moments to think before replying. “He reminded me of a few people I knew. Cold men. The type who had seen too much war and let it get in their bones. He saw us as unprepared and divided and looked down on us for it. Constantly looking for more information on who we were, while refusing to acknowledge that we were people, as if he had already accepted our deaths.

“While I will say that we hardly received him in the manner we would have for a true friend, he is certainly not a man whose trust or loyalty is easy to earn… In fact he reminded me of how Bella was after you were attacked.” His eyes took on a hard look as he remembered the unpleasantness that happened just before they left the Entrials area behind them.

Janeen froze in surprise, her father was normally not much of a talker, but that incident was taboo from his point of view. The Elder has said it was partly because of the damage done to him when he was younger. The memories and physical damage of which had made talking painful for most of his life. Even though Bella had, shockingly, healed a large portion of it, he still rarely talked this much.

To Janeen it was an indicator of how worried he was about what would happen in the future.

The memory of those days made Janeen once again swear that, should they ever met again, she would offer to induct Bella into the Clan. The girl had been closer to a younger sister to Janeen than any in her Clan and after that… no.

She pushed the memories away and concentrated. Her child was no longer in this world and thinking about him, his father, or those three dead fools would do her no good. “Father… I do not see it, how could you compare him to her of all people?”

“I did not say they were alike all the time Janeen, I am saying that he reminded me of Bella in that moment.” He took rumbling breath and Janeen almost flinched, Bella had helped him beyond words, but he was still not fully healed and likely never would be. “Bella’s rage was very focused that night, she had someone important to her hurt and nothing got in her way… regardless of what should have been possible, I swear that girl did something and I do not blame her one bit.”

Anger seemed to radiate from him as he spoke, but he quickly calmed down and continued. “It was different from his causal spite of the world around him, but I could see that same look when it looked like Ufuoma was about to say something about Arc. I would say that he probably sees the world in terms of enemies, allies, and potential enemies.

“Beyond that I can only think of three things that would have his level of arrogance, but I doubt that he is either a Dragon or an Elf in disguise. No, DeMorte has the arrogance of nobility, but the honorable kind – if they really exist. He led men before, led them and lost them. What I am still trying to decide is how he sees us and if he would be a boon or a danger.”

There was silence for a minute before Memnon stirred, “then what will we do if he is the latter? As much as I hate to admit it, his arrogance was completely justified in the physical sense and when he healed a wound someone said his mana reserves were even more terrifying.”

There was silence again before Janeen said what they were all thinking. “Then we will do what we must-” She paused and steeled her will.

Then they spoke together. “For the Clan.”