I grab the lieutenant's round shield, the one I just put down, and flip it around. There are runes engraved in its metal backing, going from the center to the circumference in a spiral. That officer must have been a Noble to wield that kind of gear.
I turn my back on Rowland to hide his sight of it and inject flow into the inscriptions. They take a golden-black glow, radiating heat to my other sense yet cold to the touch. I hit the front of the shield with my left hand. The shield doesn't even vibrate in reaction.
Is this what they use on their armors? A way to dissipate kinetic energy I suppose. I fit the shield on my right arm and drain the flow out of it. I start making my way to the headquarters with my warriors.
I throw one last glance at the rampart, specifically at my Lady's banner. She is looking in my direction from the top of the defense tower. I cannot see her face in any detail, but her straight black hair and posture I would recognize anywhere. She turns and disappears behind the crenelation.
Turning back to face my target, I find that the Nobles are going around the headquarters. I don't doubt that I'll find them inside the building. As I approach, I signal my left and right flank to spread out on either side of the structure.
I assemble a lightning construct and give the signal for the attack, slamming a wall with my hammer. The Rykz rush inside from every available opening, breaking windows while harvesters open the charge through the front door.
Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.
I wait for a few seconds before going inside. I find servants holding daggers with their backs to the wall. A few of the Duke's men and women at arms are bleeding on the ground, already taken care of.
“Drop your weapons.” I order.
They seem too distrustful to obey in time so I raise my hand to hold the harvesters back and turn to Rowland. He nods and walks up to them while I point the Rykz to the various side doors in the entrance hall.
“This is over, lay down your daggers and go warn your friends.” Rowland tells the servants. “They don't attack if you aren't armed.”
Nobles in leather armor and chain-mail are engaging Rykz in the various neighboring rooms. Screams and breathing cries filling the air. I don't waste time and make my way towards the center of the building.
Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.
The hallway I go through is decorated by paintings and mannequins wearing thin plate armor inscribed with crests, ceremonial in nature as they wouldn't even stop a kitchen knife. At the end of the corridor are Nobles blocking a harvester who is struggling to swing his four bladed arms in this small space.
There are warriors behind it but they cannot engage with the large Rykz taking most of the hallway's width. I make my way through their ranks and casually tap his lower thunk to get him to pull back, allowing the warriors to take its spot.
“It's the Red Dwarf!” One of them exclaims over his shoulder. “She's here!”
The Lords and Ladies look expecting rather than fearful or determined. Something's up. I catch a movement over their shoulders and Master Amand crosses the doorway in a full plate armor adorned with a silver lion's head, his helmet stuck under his elbow. Ten of his Templars follow a step behind.
Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.
“Master Amand.” I speak up.
I assemble a strengthening construct in preparation before slamming my weapon on the ground, telling the Rykz to fall back. As soon as they disengage, the Nobles split ranks and let the Templars take their place to flee into the large room with a rectangular table in its center. Duke Meria is sitting there, visibly shaken with his face inside his palms. Two temple guards are standing to either side of him.
“Elizabeth Vil.” He replies shortly.
“I'm not here to battle with my Emperor's Order.” I say tensely.
“Yet you've broken His law by calling for open rebellion, by helping these creatures seize Meria.” He comments.
“The Duke has done more to help them by wasting His gift of flow.” I argue. “You know what I'm trying to do, Master Amand. Don't stand in my way, retreat with your Templars.”
“That, I cannot do. We are duty-bound to defend the Izla's citizens.” He replies firmly. “Duke Meria is in this room, you may negotiate an end to the hostilities under our supervision.”
“I will not let him live past this day.” I declare.
“You may negotiate an end to the hostilities under our supervision.” He repeats himself. “If you refuse, I find myself obligated to no longer consider you an envoy of the Rykz but as a citizen in breach of Empire law.”
His responses gives me pause. I throw a suspicious glance at the Duke, sitting there with two Templars looming over him. I turn my gaze back to Amand's tired traits, trying to get a read on him.
“What if I negotiate directly with you?” I ask.
“I do not have the authority.” He replies flatly.
“Yet here he is when he obviously wants to run.” I comment.
“We've reminded Duke Meria of his own duty to the Empire and its citizens.” The Master says in a flat voice.
“This war is with Caeviel and its Nobility, not against the Empire or its citizens. The Rykz have orders not to harm any who do not bear arms against them, whether Duke Meria surrenders or not.” I declare, watching Amand closely. He frowns but nods in agreement. “Once the war with Caeviel ends, the Rykz will retreat from the Izla. That is part of the deal I struck with them.”
“You're saying that there are no terms left for Nobility to obtain with their surrender other than guarantees to their personal safety and wealth.” Amand makes a difficult expression, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Which is precisely what I cannot grant on the Rykz' behalf.” I tell him. “The war hinges on freeing the captive Princess and Nobles are a commodity to that end.”
“And your personal resentment means that you would not agree to it either way.” Amand says, fitting his helmet on.
I adjust my grip on my hammer in reaction to that, hoping that he isn't about to draw his sword as I doubt that I have any chance of defeating the Templars in such close quarters, regardless of how many Rykz I throw at them. But, that means Meria could get out of this...
“Negotiations have broken down.” Amand proclaims with an official tone of voice. “Elizabeth Vil, as Emperor Rasaec's representative and Master of Izla Meria's Templar Order, I have declared you in breach of Empire law. Yet, in light of the fact that capturing you would lead to an escalation of hostilities, which would put Emperor Rasaec's citizens at risk, and the fact that your reported actions may have preserved the Empire's people and borders, I delay judgment of the matter until this war's final resolution or your death. You are expected to present yourself to a Temple within a month of that event or be judged in your absence.”
I relax a little. He remains there, watching me. Is he waiting for my acknowledgment?
“I understand.” I nod. “Thank y...”
“On a personal note.” He interrupts me. “Do not show up. You would be mistaken to count on that Shade to influence mine or any Master's decision. The Emperor's Law is clear.”
A Shade? What is he talking about? Before I can ask, Amand flips around and heads towards the Duke. The Templars follow, except one who removes his helmet, Emffrey.
“What Master Amand is trying to say is that he is disgusted by Nobility and while he could find arguments to wave your crimes if you succeed, Noble families will not stand by and let you live if they find you.” He approaches close, whispering in such a low voice that even Rowland cannot hear. “Your identity is safe with me, consider it repayment of my debt.”
“What debt?” I ask, doing my best not to show my agitation.
He glances at my arm with a meaningful expression. I remain silent so as not to give him a clue one way or the other that I even know of him or what he speaks of. He shrugs and fits his helmet back on, rejoining his brethren.
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I make my way to the end of the hallway, stopping before entering the room. There are only a half-dozen Nobles here and, as far as I can tell, the battle is ending in the rest of the building. They must be retreating as neither side could have defeated the other so soon.
“Duke Meria. If you would give the order to wave the white flag.” Amand utters calmly.
“Are they willing to talk?” The Duke asks.
“It is up to you to convince the Rykz of your value now.” He replies indifferently. “Which would have been much easier if you'd listened and spread the flow among the defenders, as advised, instead of attempting to abandon your duties through schemes. The army is scattered and no one stands between them and the city anymore. Give the order or I will make good on my threat to hold you accountable for your unlawful actions against the Empire's citizens.” Amand says harshly.
“Commander Morgan, if you would.” Duke Meria tells a Lord who bows without hesitation and hurries to obey, making his way to a side door.
The Noble stops short as soon as he opens it, stepping back with his hand on his sword. A harvester is standing on the other side. I walk in with my warriors, wanting to clear the path so that the battle's end can be made official.
As soon as I do, the portion of the lightning construct that charges the air to guide the bolt is disrupted and the segments lose cohesion. I freeze and hurriedly dismantle the entire construct. I notice that there are runes scattered on the walls, glowing golden.
I fear a trap but the Nobles are tense while the Templars remain impassible as far as I can tell without seeing their faces. So this is normal. My strengthening construct seems unaffected and only the portions of the lightning construct exterior were destabilized.
A security measure, not that surprising considering how much backstabbing goes on within Nobility's circles. That works to my advantage. I walk by Meria, appreciating how he flinches and head to the harvester, signaling it to stand aside.
“Keep your sword sheathed and the Rykz will not harm you, Commander.” I tell the Lord.
“I can confirm that, Count.” Master Amand speaks up. “Rykz have not attacked any who lost their weapons or civilians carrying none.”
The Lord passes by the harvester on his guard but keeping his palm away from his sword's handle. Once past the Rykz and the few warriors besides, he heads to a staircase and climbs it two by two.
Master Amand then suddenly turns around and departs, his Templars closing ranks behind him. Meria suddenly raises his head and stares at their back, his expression baffled at first but it turns panicked within seconds.
“Wait! Master Amand! Where are you going?!” He asks.
“My duty is to ensure that our citizens are safe and that the army capitulates in order.” He replies, stopping to throw a mean glare at the Duke.
“I did what you asked!” Meria protests.
“You did what you should have done all along. Recognize that we've made a mistake and take responsibility. You've lost all leniency on my part after dismissing the Order's advice and arbitration. You've forgotten that Empire Law also applies to you, Duke.” Master Amand then departs the room, the spikes steel soles of his sabatons screeching against the marble floor with every step.
“But, you can't leave me with...” The Duke's voice dies as they go, realizing that he is now alone in the room with me. His eyes widen and he looks at me. “You wouldn't be so crude as to bring violence to negotiation, Dame Vil.”
I wave my hand towards the two exits and my warriors spread out to cover the escape routes. I assemble lion strikes and adjusting my strengthening construct to reinforce my body.
“What did he do?” Rowland asks.
“Killed peasants and civilians without proper lawful justification, I assume.” I respond coldly. “Extended this war past reason because he clung to his power and privilege.”
“I had no hand in the King's decision! Why should I pay for its?!” Meria exclaims.
Rowland frowns at that answer but doesn't comment. I turn my gaze to the other Nobles sitting at the table, challenging them. One of them is old and bears a face I associate with Patrick. Count Thrin.
“The deal you made with my son.” The old man says. “It had merit, even if only a scheme to entrap him.”
“True.” Meria intervenes. “We could be very useful.”
“What do you think?” I ask the other three.
“That we are here to negotiate.” A Lady responds, looking at the other two who nod. “But since Master Amand left, I assume you've offered guarantees to him about what will happen to the Izla.”
“I have.” I agree.
“Then we wish to know what you plan to do with us.” She says.
“That is not my decision to make, a Council will be formed. Expect your wealth to be confiscated.” I reply. “Consider yourselves lucky that I do not know you. You can go if you wish. Rowland, make sure that they reach Lance safely, without getting lost.”
The Nobles don't hesitate, they stand and get out of the room. Rowland joins them but not before throwing a dismissive glance at the last two, Thrin and Meria who are suppressing their unease.
“You need us to maintain your hold on the Izla.” Thrin argues. “Peasants need rulers.”
“Do you think it's a good idea to provoke me right now?” I ask rhetorically, making my hammer spin inside my palms.
“I'm an old man stating a simple fact. I find no harm in trying to change your mind, as you seem set on ending this in a bloody manner.” Thrin says.
“I could grant you a title. Make you a true Lady.” Duke Meria proposes. “It would allow you to rule, grant you a lawful claim.”
“I have no intention of taking power. Unlike you, I do not think people need to rulers. I've never believed so and I've seen proof of the contrary.” I declare. “I've expended the rest of my patience. You have a choice to make, Thrin. Either fight me now, or submit to trial.”
“Judged by low-born?! You cannot be serious.” Thrin scoffs. I casually bring my weapon back. “Nobility is necessary, peasants are not capable of...”
My hammer cuts him off as I smash his skull with it. That sentence didn't deserve to be finished. The old man's body falls off the chair, brain matter splashes on the Duke once again.
Meria kicks the table to jump back, smacking his hand against one of the runes inscribed on the wall. After a small flash, the construct loses its energy and is disabled. I let go of my weapon to take hold of the heavy table and throw it at the man, using a lion strike.
The hammer flies up and I catch it before it hits the ground. Crack. Meria's arm breaks as the heavy piece of furniture slams into him. He screams in pain and is projected against the wall. I walk on the upside down table to stand in front of the Duke and look down on him.
“I can grant you anything! Just allow me to talk to the Rykz, I'm sure I can help.” He proposes, panicked and desperate.
Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.
My warriors cry out just as I detect a needle construct take shape behind my helmet, outside of my field of vision. I kick Meria's broken arm, shattering his focus and the construct as a result.
“Ahh!” He yells.
“Once more.” I reply.
“I, I'm a Duke, you can't just do this to me, there are rules!” He says, somehow outraged.
His words echo in my mind, bringing the memory of people begging for their lives as his construct slaughtered them, shredded them. The image of the carnage left in the wake of his actions is not something I will, or can, forget. I bring the hammer's spike down on his hand, piercing it through and through.
“Arh! P, please, don't.” He stutters.
“Once more.” I repeat.
I make use of my weapon's hold on his hand to force him to stand, just so I can put him down with a well placed punch to the gut. The spike rips through his hand, leaving a gash between his ring and middle fingers.
“Ar, ugh.” He coughs the sounds out.
“Once more.” I utter.
He raises his hand, trying to push me away. I punch his teeth, dislodging a few. He spits blood. I continue, muttering my mantra and kicking his gut every-time he opens his mouth.
I slice fingers off, use my hammer's spikes to cut ribbons into his flesh. I see red, unsure if it's because of all the blood. I don't care. Father died because of scum like you and Odo couldn't accept the obvious.
“Once more.” I say, tearing an ear off.
He doesn't react or move. I lean in and check his pulse. Finding a heartbeat but blank eyes. I conclude he fainted and rise, exhausted. I pant to catch my breath. I hadn't noticed losing it. I glance down at the Duke.
The spectacle in front of me is atrocious. His body is in shambles. There are only minor injuries but so many of them that every bit of him is painted with the color of blood. It seems light compared to what remained of those he tore apart. Yet, I feel my stomach retch in disgust at what I've done.
Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.
My warriors call out softly, one of them moving to take hold of Meria. Throwing him on his shoulder. His ankles are disjointed, making his feet dangle at odd angles.
That small detail is so minor, so insignificant, yet it is enough to make me puke. I bend over and take my helmet off to spit the bile expelled by my empty stomach for the second time tonight. I wobble a little and use my hammer as a crutch.
I hear a squad of people entering the headquarters, mostly because at least one of them is in plate armor. I hurriedly get to a small corner table and use the cloth to wipe my mouth before setting my helmet back on.
I worry for a second that the fact that I forgot to eat might make me lose control of my limb, but it got to absorb plenty of blood and that is apparently enough. I straighten up and face the hallway.
Lance is stopped in the middle, a distraught expression on her face. Edusa and Yvonne to her side, looking sickened by the scene in front of them. I tap the shoulder of the warrior carrying the Duke and point him at them.
The Rykz makes his way up to them, dropping the unconscious Noble on the ground without ceremony before walking back to me. I take hold of a chair to drop down on it. I lay back and shut my eyes, closing my fists to stop the tremble in my hands.
“Elizabeth?” Lance asks tentatively.
“Going to need a minute.” I force myself to reply.
“We've stopped fighting but the Rykz are refusing to accept Morgan's formal surrender, that Princess called for you.” Edusa says.
“Is anyone dying?” I question.
“No, but we...” Edusa replies.
“Then shut the fuck up.” I snap.
I hear Lance whisper some orders, detecting their movements as they pick up the Duke and drag him out of my range. Likely headed outside. Only she remains there.