That broke the Duke’s calm demeanor, a dozen men stepped back, collapsing onto nearby cushions as their brows vanished, mouths falling open at the suggestion.
Duke Kheresh swallowed, “I had wondered what brought them to our dominion, especially while I was away…” He muttered, stroking his black beard.
A hush fell over the court, the gravity of her words sinking in like a stone cast into deep water. Even the Duke, for all his imperiousness, seemed taken aback. Worse, his words confirmed only their worst fears.
“And how do you know of this?” the Duke inquired, his voice now a touch more measured. “What proof do you offer of these dark tidings?”
Liam spoke again, his voice steady. “We returned a daughter to her mother, and Calypso isn’t happy. If you don’t already recognize the name of legend, let me make it clear, your cannons and catapults won’t chip her fingernails, but her wrath may grind your duchy to dust. She intends to ruin Khereshetal. As a half elf, I seem uniquely positioned to find common ground.” Said Liam, smiling. “Calypso informed me that only myself, and my mother’s grave will be spared. You must find a way to change her mind. Offer her a resistance that bleeds so she may slake her bloodlust and temper her fury over time. Prepare defenses while you can, present an impenetrable wall to her sundering strike, then before her second blow falls, you must surrender and offer her recompense. Whatever the price may be. Men, women, your position, anything.”
The Duke leaned back, sinking into the red velvet cushions around his throne.
His fingers drummed lightly on the arm of his throne as he considered the demands. He was well accustomed to weighing the value of lives against his nation’s benefit, but the prospect of a threat that might undo everything? Was difficult to comprehend. He glanced around the hall, taking in all his line had striven to achieve.
“Everyone, get out. Empty the court. My warriors, see them off and shut the doors behind you.” Ordered the duke, waiting a full half hour for the room to be cleared.
Liam dismissed Owen and Velena, then sent Thaddeus to watch the door, leaving he and Maya to parlay with the Duke.
Two advisors remained with the Duke, one of the watch captains from earlier and a man Liam had seen in his past life. He was the bishop who had tried to escort him in King Aldric’s throne room, and then tried shooting him in the back only to surrender a moment later. His eyes narrowed, he hadn’t realized until now, but the bishop had the same eyes and jawline that Sirin did. He wasn’t just a random bishop, but the ultimate source of his mother’s death.
“I’m glad to finally meet my grandson.” Said Emir Efendi, Sirin’s father.
“Grandson is a term of endearment, one that denotes a familial bond. But the only family I know is Sirin, the beggar. Had you visited her grave you would know that she had no family, no father to protect her, no mother to wipe away her tears. You are no kin of mine, and I will slay any who disagree.” Said Liam, his tone harder than the diamond atop Emir Efendi’s staff.
The man’s face fell, frowning at the total rejection. He’d disinherited a daughter who was now of greater standing than himself, the mother of a Lightning Lord. But Liam guessed that wasn’t the source of his current discomfort. No, the Emir was torn because a Lightning Lord, Taloc’s mouthpiece, had disinherited him. Rejected everything he had to offer.
“Ah, yes, my lord.” Said Emir Efendi, looking as though the words were strangling him.
The apology wasn’t enough for Liam, he wanted to destroy the man. Erase him from existence. But before he could slay the bastard, Not-Nyota appeared once more, dropping the cloak of invisibility that had protected her thus far. Her face reminded him of the ultimate goal, of the woman who held his heart captive. He couldn’t slay his own grandfather under her gaze.
“Wind, I’m jealous.” Said Liam, extending both arms towards the woman as if he expected her to pick him up like the toddler he was.
She raised an eyebrow and held her ground, a smile creeping across her lips as she spurned him.
Damn, I just want to talk face to face! Maybe think of something happier than my shitty family. Besides, you’re standing on a dias that is taller than I am, I’m stuck looking at your bare toes. Its weird. But fine, I'll play it off.
Water appeared in his right hand, freezing to ice as he imagined the molecules locking into position, then an orb of fire appeared above the icicle, almost as if he’d forged a candle of pure mana. The gesture, though simple, seemingly benign, delivered a roundhouse kick to the Duke’s jaw.
“I’m glad someone appreciates me.” Muttered Liam, summoning an orb of darkness into his right hand and pulling the dust out of the carpet to form a rock.
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The Duke never blinked, and Liam dismissed the mana, leaving only a rock and an icicle. Two items that he passed to Maya, who then delivered it to the eldest eclipsiarch, their hands touching affectionately as the distant relatives encountered each other. When Maya was about to withdraw the elder pulled her in tight, sniffing her throat. Liam had seen the gesture before, but it always made Liam nervous to see elongated canines approach any woman’s throat. A reflexive aversion that triggered his desire to protect.
Grandmother’s mouth closed and her lips pressed against Maya’s cheek. “You’re a distant granddaughter of mine, let these menfolk talk today, and I will visit you during the peak of our powers, when the moon guides our claws and magic flows most freely from Taloc.” Whispered the elder eclipsiarch, not intending her words to be overheard by Liam’s elven ears.
Maya’s answering whisper was drowned out by the Duke’s cough, spurring Liam into action.
“Answer me honestly, how many gorgons were slain?”
“I do not know.” Said the Duke, covering his face with one hand.
‘Quetz… You sure I can’t zap this guy?’
‘Not even a lil zip. Leave him alive, unless you wish to manage all Kheresh yourself!’ Warned Quetz.
“You’ve admitted quite the failure, an explanation is required.”
“An explanation? You’re a cheeky little asshole. Why should I–” He caught sight of Not-Nyota’s ear aimed at him and paused for several long moments. “Fine, come closer, sit on the cushions of my advisors and speak as though we are kin.” Snapped Duke Kheresh, rising from his own throne and throwing himself bodily into the sea of cushions on his right. Like a sultan leaping into the ball pit at mcdonalds.
Though, there was less puke and a whole lot more wine. But roughly the same ratio of children to adults. For some reason Kheresh eschewed wooden chairs in favor of cushions, a custom Sirin had never taught him.
Maya swept Liam into her arms, carrying him to the pillows, then gave him a gentle toss, lobbing him into a particularly plump cushion. While she sat apart from them, trading whispers with the elder eclipsiarch. The Duke regarded them in silence for a brief moment, then his eyes roved across Tufan.
Finally, he spoke, his voice measured, but with a note of finality. “You come to my court, unannounced, with demands on your lips and tales of green doom. Yet, you speak with conviction, and there is a kernel of truth in your words that I cannot ignore. At least a dozen gorgons were slain, all of the younger variety,” he sighed loudly, deeply perturbed by what he was saying, “In a way, you saved me the trouble of executing my own cousin. Since he was the only male of suitable age in my lineage. But your… Intervention went too far! Week old corpses have not furthered my investigation, nor will they appease Calypso. God, why did it have to be her?” Said the Duke, clearly familiar with her legend. “Kill me now, spare me from the disaster that will unfold. I have no coin or soldiers left. Calypso can take my head. Hell, she can take my cock if that’ll please her. Not like it’s done me any good since Greenwood.” Said Duke Kheresh.
Liam’s eyebrows vanished into his hair. How depressed was this duke? What man would willingly surrender his dick! Errectile dysfunction or not, that was a line worse than death! Emir Efendi coughed uncomfortably.
“Aherm, surely we can find an alternative sacrifice than the Duke. We… Ah, if there are no Kharmite soldiers left…” Efendi closed his eyes and grit his teeth, not wanting to speak his thoughts aloud. “If we must pick who lives and dies, we ought to send the faithful, those who Taloc will embrace most readily.”
The suggestion reminded Liam of the crusades from the middle ages, like the children’s crusade that ended with thousands of new slaves for the Ottoman empire. Men like Efendi were why this world had no peace.
“I forbid it.” Said Liam. “The church will not engage in any hostilities. Nor will we heal during the fighting. Only at the end of battle will the paladins use their magic.”
Efendi’s mouth snapped shut, and a vein began to pulse in his forehead, quickly growing in size until the man’s heartbeat could be read.
Liam ignored him. He would comply or die. There would be no second chances for the traitor. How he’d escaped from King Aldric’s dungeons–
No, he didn’t escape. He was released. Like Viscunt fucking Blackwood. Aldric, you’ve stabbed me in the back three times now. I am going to kill you. Hamilton can have your kingdom, but you will not survive a meeting with me.
“Forbid whatever you please, but I will lead my Kharmites against the gorgons. It is all I can do. There are no leads on who staked the gorgons, nor who ordered it, they all say Magistrate Yusuf dealt with each gorgon personally. Damn Aldric, his demands that I defend Greenwood have drained my army and my coffers beyond what can be endured. We have already paid a blood price, my army was ten thousand strong and I’ve returned with only two.”
The Duke’s voice fell in volume as he spoke, dropping to a level so quiet that even Liam’s elven ears struggled to hear. He idly stroked Quetz, drawing the divine serpent out of his tunic and onto a nearby cushion, one that lay directly in front of the window.
‘Ah, yesssssssss.’ Thought Quetz, cuddling up the sunlight.
“So you no longer have any men to sacrifice, nor coin to offer tribute, nor the strength to resist… Ah… You kinda fucked up my Duke.” Said Liam, stroking the long lobes of his ears once before laying backwards.
Since becoming aware of the elven ears, he’d used his healing magic to restore them to their genetic default, lengthening them more than an inch since he first met Thaddeus.
“The deaths of eight thousand men isn’t a ‘kinda’, taxes will be doubled before the year’s end, and a draft will have to be instituted just to meet our required commitments. Kharmite warriors train for ten years before considering themselves worthy to enter my service, I lowered that to five years when I took them to war.”
Liam winced, Aliyar had borrowed against five years of his future replacements, a gamble that had evaporated into Pandora’s portals.
“If Calypso attacks, she could take my head within an hour.” The duke whispered.
“Oh, don’t worry about that, she’ll torment the entire city for several days. That is, assuming we are successful. Don’t worry, it’ll only take her a few weeks to level all of Khereshetal if we fail.” Said Liam, stretching out onto the cushions to share his ultimate plan for Kheresh’s defense, or at least, as much as he dared trust Emir Efendi with.