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Laius Cinna
A day in Goras
Part III
-Whatever the King asks…-
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The sound of the door slamming when it closed had snapped Laius out of his fear-induced daze. The footsteps of many Zilan Rokae departing after the alien king echoing inside the massive hall. The bright lights and gilded details surrounding this now empty edge that was the adjoined throne room seeming oppressive.
“Darn good wine this,” Doris commented refilling his goblet. “Fancy engravings on the bottle too. Those priestesses over at Valeria do something similar right Laius?”
Laius pursed his mouth tightly and walked near one of the last gigantic black granite columns to glance behind it. There were more columns after the raised throne, more normal in size that were supporting an internal balcony –the light giving it away amidst the darkness of the unseen ceiling- the balcony probably part of the second floor.
He spotted a side door barely illuminated by a single lightstone-torch, large portions of the side corridors hugging the main hall beyond the columns lost in sinister darkness.
“We need to get out of here,” Laius told the silently sipping at King Garth’s wine Duke. Doris had found a chair and was sitting down seemingly unbothered by the meeting. “Whilst we still can.”
The Duke pointed at a second chair near the table that was situated near one of the bigger central columns.
“I’m serious my lord,” Laius hissed and walked back to the narrow but of polished ebony, finely carved table.
“Not with that tone we won’t,” Doris snapped making a gesture to their surroundings. Laius gulped down and lowered himself on the high back chair. “Intense fellow this friend of ours mm?” The Duke commented with a wink.
“I don’t believe speaking lower helps us here my lord,” Laius noted with a grimace. “Zilan can hear much better than people.”
“So do rabbits is the consensus but I’ve walked up to one during a hunt. Almost stepped on its head. The size of the appendage might lie about the skill dear Laius.” Doris stood back after delivering his small lecture very pleased with himself.
“He doesn’t seem sane at all and I base this to personal observation,” Laius insisted, making an effort to lower his voice to a whisper just in case the Duke was right. “Look at this place. ¾ of the hall is without any light and mostly empty space. You have to stumble in the dark to reach the entrance to the throne room and if it wasn’t for the lights they remembered to place here, we might have gotten lost. Where are the darn windows?”
“It’s gloomy but they also say Lord Ruud’s hall at Black Pillar is a depressing place to visit. You wanted us to go there if I recall. Some rulers go for this eerie look. It might be a matter of funds also or the lack of them. Easier to concentrate on a portion of the building and leave the rest bare.”
Laius licked his dry lips and watched Doris finishing his goblet.
“This wine is of excellent quality. A stronger taste might be better for those barbarians up north but the Lorians of the coast would certainly appreciate it. It reminds me of Flauegran but with less sweetness. We gotten the sweetness right in Aegium but missed all the rest, eh.” The Duke murmured and glanced about them. The empty throne room carrying their words.
“What?” Laius asked puffing out and slotted a finger in his soaked collar to help his breathing.
“Might be on purpose.” Doris murmured thoughtfully. “A way to scare us.”
“You think he’s standing outside and chuckles at our words?”
“I don’t know Laius,” Doris replied and reached for the bottle. “He told us to wait here. For now he’s friendly.”
“We could try to get away,” Laius offered. “You know since befriending a guy that searches the city for a stolen egg so aggressively shouldn’t be a priority and all that my Lord.”
“It could be a test,” Doris countered and refilled his goblet.
“To get us drunk?” Laius mocked him very frustrated.
“You are in a negative mood,” Doris grunted with a glare. “Whenever things don’t go smoothly straightway, you get cold feet.”
“It’s called preservation,” Laius retorted and got up to go check on that side door again.
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A couple of hours later Laius returned to the table where the Duke was sitting. The bottle only half full now. Doris glanced at him and gave a nod with his head as Laius approached.
“Found anything behind the throne stand?”
“A round window at the edge of the building. I counted forty meters on a north heading. This part is the final portion of the citadel I’m certain. The north side of the pyramid’s base.”
“How big is the window?”
“I’ve no idea. It’s made out of colored glass and stands at least six meters high,” Laius replied and sipped some of the wine since he was getting hungry. Not that drinking could help with that but there wasn’t much else on offer. “Several portraits though on the walls. The spot well illuminated and there’s another small sitting area back there.”
“Portraits of himself?”
“Nothing of himself. A Cofol woman. Quite beautiful.” Laius said swallowing the flavorful wine. “Must be the Sopat lass. He’s a widower right?”
“Uhm. She died at childbirth the captain said.” Doris grimaced. “You’d think all this cross-breeding might have…”
“Lots of women die at childbirth my Lord. And he has a daughter already.”
“True.”
“That we haven’t seen,” Laius added as the Duke had a point.
“Aye. Still you shouldn’t be so judgmental Laius.”
“I really wasn’t my Lord,” Laius replied stiffly. “You brought it up.”
“I’m pretty certain it was you,” Doris argued and burped.
Great.
“That’s enough wine sire,” Laius advised and the Duke blinked appearing quite shocked at his insinuation.
“Laius I’ve an excellent constitution.” Doris assured him. “But I could do with some food.”
“Yeah,” Laius agreed and pushed back on his chair. “Despite the sparsity in decorations,” he added in a lower voice. “Whatever they have installed in here is of excellent quality sire.”
“Mmm.”
“Quite expensive,” Laius added. “All the portraits were framed in real gold sheets and I’m certain there are real gems on these goblets. This could have been a better option for Sir Deimos given that the Monarch has a daughter.”
Doris pursed his mouth and stared at the illuminated metal and stone throne standing on the raised platform just after the last two of the massive central columns.
“You think Maggie knew?” The Duke finally asked in a raspy voice, his demeanor changing.
Laius paused not expecting the dark turn to their conversation. Did I cause it with bringing up the late Sir Deimos?
“It was a lapse in judgement sire,” he said feeling uncomfortable with the topic. “The gods decided on who was responsible. What happened to Lady Margaret was an accident. She drowned.”
“Like Velia.” The Duke noted.
Lady Velia was the Duke’s late father’s second wife. Queen Miranda’s late mother had been lost when her ship went under on its way to the Turtle Isles where she owned land.
“It was an accident. Both events,” Laius reminded him.
“Maggie killed herself,” Doris grunted bitterly and stood with his face dark. “She knew.”
“You can’t be certain of that sire. Your late wife didn’t reach from the grave after so many years to snatch Deimos away. It was her son as well,” Laius argued getting up himself. “And what happened with Velia wasn’t your fault.”
Doris grimaced and then rubbed his face with both hands. “I shouldn’t have pushed for Miranda to wed Alistair. It was done for selfish reasons and nothing good… came of it.”
“Miranda’s choices are her own,” Laius insisted. “She took after her mother—”
“That’s enough Laius,” Doris snapped angrily.
“Yes my Lord,” Laius replied and they both stared at the oppressive hall and the hurting their eyes unnatural light of the alien torches.
“The door is open?” The Duke asked after a long moment.
“It is.”
“This has gone on for some time now eh?”
“Hours my Lord.” Laius droned.
Doris smacked his lips and exhaled audibly. “Well then. Stay here is a rather vague suggestion. It could mean… in the citadel. Right? The Castle? Surely we can move about like guests eh?”
“Certainly my lord.” Laius replied dutifully and quite relieved to at least attempt to get out of the empty for hours now hall.
“They don’t use it a lot right?” Doris asked as they walked towards the side door with renewed purpose but also a little warry for anything popping out of the dark spots all about them.
“Maybe they conduct their business elsewhere?” Laius chanced.
“That would be weird though. Isn’t the King holding court regularly?”
“Some kings don’t sire,” Laius replied.
“Right.” Doris stared at the closed door apprehensively. “When I asked you just now, whether you think we can move about freely or not, you were pretty adamant in yer response.” The Duke reminded him.
He was.
“I lied my lord,” Laius admitted calmly and opened the side door.
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You’d expect that eventually and after hours of a boring interval without even a hint that someone remembered they had been abandoned inside the throne room, something might actually change. A small spark of excitement rearing its naughty head.
And it did.
It was all downhill after that.
Laius stepped out inside a narrow extended side corridor running the length of the main hall and the throne room. It was well lit by wall-torches.
The Zilan variant.
It was also a cool and pleasantly painted in gold and black color corridor this with many doors on its outer side, another stone staircase at the far end.
The Citadel was massive in size and constructed without any logical pattern. It was as if someone had started building a temple, switched to a citadel midway through and finished it trying to create a villa of sorts.
A blond, strikingly attractive green-eyed Lorian woman had appeared not three meters away. She had been walking down the corridor holding the hand of an aloof boy with intense dark eyes and was followed by a man meandering a couple of meters behind them. She paused seeing Laius and the half-inebriated Duke of Aegium coming out of the door. A ringed hand pulling the boy back apprehensively, bejeweled arms and legs jingling, the latter bare as the small skirt she had on with the openings at the hips that Laius had seen favored by slave-girls left too much skin exposed.
By even the lewder Jelin standards.
“Ah,” Doris gasped next to him upon spotting the comely blonde himself. “Apologies lass… Lady…” He murmured stepping forward, probably thinking they’d caught the woman in her undergarments. The Duke reached with both hands and clasped the young woman’s right hand.
“I’m Ziba-Ra,” the Lorian woman said softly in a Cofol accent that didn’t have a hint of Lorian in it.
“Lady Ziba-Ra,” Doris repeated hoarsely in his noblest impression in untold years and brought her ringed hand to his mouth, performing his famous –when they were both much younger in years- ‘long knuckle peck’ of a lonely maiden’s hand.
Maiden of sorts.
Lorian Lady… but that was disputed.
Lonely… absolutely not.
An alarmed Laius turned his eyes on the shadowy man following after the woman and the kid, but missed him performing an athletic two meter leap that brought him between Ziba and Doris. The Duke was still busy kissing the flushed Ziba-Ra’s covered in tiny decorative silver chains knuckles -unwilling to let go of her fingers, but he did forcefully since the man’s timely punch snapped the Duke’s head back. The attacker had delivered it seamlessly afore landing.
Creating another welt on the battered Duke’s right cheek this time.
“GAAGLEH!” Doris yelped ineligibly twirling backwards stunned by the unexpected blow and the newcomer landed on slightly bent knees afore lithely standing up. He snapped both sinewy arms forward then cracked the fingers on each fist suggestively, slotting them inside a palm. Dressed in a simple Lorian long white loincloth -square in shape as worn in the Legions- and had a piece of engraved half-plate on that left his beefy arms bare. Laius had never seen the exaggerated perfect musculature of ancient warrior marble statues in the flesh before, but the man before him seemed to embody all those qualities.
Even down to the square-jawed masculine and bratty face that smiled tauntingly to Laius as if they were on a stage. Laius had drawn his dagger out and was about to rush the handsome newcomer that had assaulted the groaning Doris.
“Troy.” The woman said without any urgency. “Don’t.”
While a better delivery was perhaps needed here, Laius didn’t really want to fight also as the newcomer had truly crazy eyes but alas he was left with no other choice. The former chamberlain stepped forward and stabbed with the dagger to nail the taller man at the exposed midriff, but Troy half-turned then closed his fist to punch Laius at the plunging dagger-wielding wrist almost breaking it. The dagger flew sideways out of Laius’ numb fingers, Troy’s other arm moved to snatch the groaning Laius’ left forearm and dragged him forward increasing the momentum he’d gathered.
A grinning Troy lowered his shoulder a moment afore Laius’ face connected with it, the lip of the steel plate splitting the bone on his nose, flesh bursting open and his eyes almost popping out of their sockets. Laius yelped, blood spraying out of his battered nose and stumbled back with blurry eyes afore going down on his arse.
“You blasted criminal!” Doris growled and made to rush Troy but he raised a burly sandaled leg effortlessly and planted it on the charging Duke’s chest. A mighty heave and Doris flew backwards briefly before crashing on the closed door. Hinges rattling and a large crack appearing about halfway down the sturdy wood, slowly revealed as the moaning Duke slid down on wobbly legs.
Laius coughed a mouthful of blood and rolled on the floor to get away from the murderer that turned to stare at an unruffled Ziba-Ra that had hugged the small boy and used her body to prevent it from watching the violence. Even so the boy was peeking from behind his mother’s right hip engrossed.
“Fucking old creep,” Troy said in a Common Lorian accent. “Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”
“What? Are you nuts?” Doris grunted trying to get up although Laius wished for him to stay down and play dead. Laius’ head hurting, ears ringing and eyes behind a blurry curtain. He had blood on his face, dripping down the upper lip and more in his mouth.
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“Mate, I’ve seen you wit me own eyes,” Troy admonished Doris. “Just embrace the hurt lest more punishment be delivered. You got off easy.”
“Why, you bucolic ignoramus thug!” Doris growled now even angrier and forced himself upright. “You’ve laid a hand on me!”
“Want to fight? Is that it?” Troy guffawed. “Fine. No need for words I'm primed already! Got a blade? We can settle this in the next room. Plenty of space but not much of an audience for an event though!”
Doris blinked not believing his ears. “Fight… you? What are you jabbering about? I’m Duke Alden you fool!”
“My… Lord, if I… may,” Laius croaked and tried to stand with the help of a wall.
“Duke? Blasted weakling! Fool, that’s a horse’s moniker hah-hah!” Troy retorted with a stupid grin more-amused than angry now. “Seriously? Couldn’t you come up with anything else?” Then sobering up some he added in a more serious tone. “I ain’t feeling intimidated mate.”
Doris touched the swollen part of his face with a hand and pursed his mouth. “You’ll pay for this insult,” he grunted a warning and the tall Zilan courtier from before opened the cracked door to step out with a brief sour glance at the damage done to the building.
“Mister Troy, Lady Ziba-Ra,” Rimeros said with a hawkish glare at the scowling Doris and the groaning bleeding Laius. “What is the reason for this disturbance?”
“An assault is the fucking reason! Call the palace guards and arrest him!” Doris snapped and went to help Laius stand on faltering feet. “This thug attacked us.”
“The old creep got caught wit Ziba’s hand in his mouth is what he means!” Troy countered with a frown.
“You wish to settle the score further?” Rimeros asked looking at Laius’ mauled nose dripping blood on the tiled floor.
“We’re… fine,” Laius croaked with difficulty to defuse the matter.
“What? You’re bleeding all over the place!” Doris grunted whilst Rimeros turned his eyes on Troy as the Zilan’s query was addressed to him and not Laius.
“Just toss them both out,” Troy replied indifferently. “Beat the old creep some more to straighten him out.”
“Uh?” Doris growled in utter disbelief.
“It can’t be done. The Monarch wishes to speak to them further,” Rimeros replied evenly. “I’ll bring the matter up with him though.”
“Is he plaguing serious?” A bewildered Doris snapped and a desperate Laius grabbed his arm to quiet him down.
“He is… sire,” Laius said with a pained groan and then stumbled towards the door forcing the Duke to come along before things got even worse. Laius had to pause again two strides later to get his bearings as his legs felt rubbery.
“Troy I wish to visit the market,” a polite Ziba-Ra reminded the fit brute behind them.
“Hey now pretty. We might have a duel in our hands,” Troy protested with a knowing stare.
“Not worth our time,” a now miffed Ziba-Ra replied pursing her painted lips. “Are you coming or not?”
“I’m doing this for you,” a hurt Troy griped but the woman had already started moving slowly down the corridor dragging the looking back boy with her. With a last warning gesture at the seething Doris the beefy man went trotting after her.
“Can’t you arrest this belligerent thug?” Doris griped with a backwards glance to a sober Rimeros that followed after them, whilst he helped a dizzy faltering Laius reach the side door.
“He’s the Monarch’s friend and a champion of the arena,” the Zilan courtier informed him with a grimace of annoyance for the mess they had left behind. “Include Luthos to your prayers tonight human.”
The Zilan walked past them energetically and went into the throne room again. He paused there to ring a bell he carried with him, the sound produced crisp and echoing inside the much larger room. Rimeros did it for a couple of times murmuring under his breath.
“Why, I’ll be a market monkey’s uncle. Can you believe what just happened?” Doris hissed using a hankie to staunch the bleeding on Laius’ smashed nose. “We better be careful henceforth my friend.”
“Yes sire we should… although it was quiet evident since the very start,” a hurting Laius retorted with a muffled voice.
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Laius let out a groan and felt a dizzy spell flooding his senses as he came about some time later. How much time impossible to state with any accuracy but he could tell they were still inside the throne room. Mylael’s exotic face slowly appearing in front of him. Laius felt something tied around his head.
“It’s a bandage to keep the bone set properly,” the healer explained and Laius flinched looking about for her pet Nimra lion. “It was broken cleanly so you’re lucky at that but the nose will always be a little different in size now.”
Hey if the darn thing is still there I’m fine with it, Laius thought.
“He can handle it lass,” Doris assured her while the disoriented Laius tried to get his bearings. He had a terrible taste in his mouth for sure. Something bitter and tasting of earth. His stomach burned also as if Laius had just swallowed a goblet of acid.
Or stale piss.
“You’ll need another hour. Don’t break it again,” Mylael advised calmly and got up as she had knelt beside the chair. The Zilan healer stood tall and smelling way better than Laius remembered or he’d just got used to their scent by now.
The other option available being that his nose was damaged beyond repair.
In this terrible day that still hadn’t ended Laius guessed it was the least of his problems.
“I’ll be with Soletha at the stables,” she explained to a thoughtful Rimeros who nodded once. “Raro wants to see the younglings,” Mylael added touching the palace official’s arm lightly. “Just inform us if they are any news...”
The rest of her words spoken in Imperial.
“Eat up.” Doris advised interrupting his eavesdropping and pointed at the plates that had appeared on the table in front of him. Several fried eggs with a dish of green salad and mashed boiled potatoes.
“I can’t move my mouth sire,” Laius croaked watching the healer walking away towards the door leading to the side corridor. The darkness beyond the central part of the main hall engulfing her comely figure.
“Your face has changed colors a couple of times. It looks bad. I won’t sugarcoat it,” a solemn Doris said with a grimace, himself not looking much better with yet another swelling already formed on his other cheek.
“Thanks sire,” a pained Laius deadpanned. “You look like a horse’s arse yourself.”
“Hah,” Doris chuckled and slapped a hand on his thigh.
“If there’s nothing else,” Rimeros informed them. “I’ve real business to attend to.”
“Wait. Are we to stay here?” Doris asked before the Zilan could disappear.
“You’ve an audience with the Monarch.” Rimeros reminded him.
“Can’t we reschedule? We’ve been here for hours.”
Rimeros blinked unsure. “What does time have to do with anything?”
“We’re human? It was a jest,” Doris said quickly seeing Rimeros’ dour expression. “We’re tired Rimeros.”
“You are sitting on a chair and just had a meal,” the Zilan official retorted stiffly. “You’ll survive for long enough.”
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About two hours later Laius gulped down whatever he had in his mouth with a grimace of pain. He had started munching carefully at the cold eggs after his hurt jaw regained some mobility. There was a lot of oregano splashed on the meal the Zilans had provided for them but not much salt for a couple of lads from Aegium. Anyhow while a tad bitter and weird to the taste everything was eatable. Laius briefly thanked the gods for that as while the dizziness had slipped away due to Zilan magic or whatever, the hunger had returned in its stead increased tenfold. Laius glanced at the Duke strolling back and forth impatiently.
“My… lord, you’ll tire yourself,” he warned.
“This is getting quite ridiculous,” Doris protested, hands clasped behind his back. “Am I right?”
“They perhaps had a breakthrough with the missing egg?” Laius chanced glancing at his plate.
“They seem to value them a lot heh? Is it sparsity you think? Maybe there’s a market opportunity here my friend. Easier coin ever made if these fools are so hot on egg dishes right?”
“I’m not certain we have the full picture sire.”
The Duke pursed his mouth, face distorting and then let out a groan. He used his tongue to feel the teeth from the inside. “Here’s a picture for you. That son of a bitch got me pretty good back there.”
“A gladiator sire,” Laius commented sadly as he’d gotten the worst of the ordeal.
“What about that huh?” Doris asked and came to the table. He grabbed his goblet and finished off the wine. The Duke had gone through a bottle already and was now working on a second one. “You think the King is interested in bloody sports? We could perhaps get a day of games organized. Make it an event.”
“Gladiators are slaves forced to fight in the arena sire.”
“I know that. The concept is similar,” Doris argued.
“I don’t believe we can stomach fights to the death back in Jelin my Lord. Could you do it here?”
“What are you talking about? People always died in the tourneys Laius,” Doris countered with a frown. “Granted it wasn’t intended but let’s not pretend that it doesn’t happen!”
Laius forced himself up from the chair grumbling as he felt battered in several places. His back, right leg and arm. Nose… obviously. You don’t expect to engage in risky ‘acrobatics’ when on a diplomatic mission of sorts. Or getting assaulted inside a palace for kissing a maiden’s hand.
Doris had overdone it back there perhaps.
He stumbled towards the raised throne and blinked still unaccustomed to the weird strong lights.
“Whatever King Garth asks,” Laius advised raspingly the peeved Duke turning around. “You should agree Doris.”
Laius had forgo all formalities as this was important.
Doris furrowed his brows. “Laius I know this might seem bad now but we’ve asked for asylum…” The Duke paused unsure staring at something across the well-illuminated central part of the throne room. A curious Laius slowly turned his head around to gaze at one of the last two great columns that marked the end of the much darker elongated main hall. At the base of the east ridiculously thick support black pillar a figure had appeared. Dressed in dark leathers the lanky white-haired Zilan had the dark-skin of an Issir, but the typically long ears and gleaming eyes of the rest of Rimeros’ kin.
The dark-skinned Zilan frowned, hint of surprise on his wicked mouth and glanced at them staring at him from across the room. He brought an index finger on his lips in a teasing gesture of silence and then flipped that same hand around opening his palm. A puff of smoke raising over it immediately and then the mysterious Zilan blinked out of existence.
“Why…” Doris murmured sounding perturbed at the bizarre event with Laius blinking equally stunned, standing a couple of meters in front of the Duke and nearer to the throne. The shadow created behind the raised platform and the high back of the Monarch’s seat coming alive all of a sudden. A part of it forming arms and legs. A head. It moved out of the shades, the dark dissolving like smoke and turning into garbs.
A raised hood and a long cloak under it.
The jingling of blades on the weapon harness and a pair of soft-leather boots stepping on the tiled floor.
“Good grief,” Doris gasped seeing the newcomer appear out of nowhere. This second Zilan of normal complexion and quite familiar. Laius had spotted him again during the meeting with the Monarch that very morning.
The second Zilan grunted opening his mouth as if to speak, but no coherent sound came out in any language. He then sniffed at the air audibly with a grimace and walked away from the throne room looking disturbed and quite alarmed.
“Ahm,” Doris started and the Zilan snapped his head towards him aggressively with a glare that could only mean that the Duke should keep his mouth closed. Doris thankfully understood the silent exchange.
With another grunt the hooded Zilan walked towards the column where the other one had appeared and disappeared to. He rounded the around five meters in circumference barrier and came out of the other way abruptly. With an irritated incoherent rumble the Zilan unsheathed a front-curved sword from his back, the weapon concealed initially by the cloak. He stood still examining the darkness of the main hall that extended all the way to the front gates of the citadel and then with a last glance at the two bewildered humans walked inside it.
A moment later the hooded freak was gone as well.
Laius licked his numb lips and the moment dragged until it was broken by the clinging of utensils behind their backs. The sound coming from their abandoned table about ten meters away.
They both twisted around panicked but the table stood empty, the sound coming from a gleaming silver coin that twirled around on its surface and bouncing from a spoon to the edge of the plate without losing momentum. It was the perfect spin almost. Laius and Doris marched towards the table with the murmuring Duke rounding the smaller column to find the culprit.
Laius picked up the silver coin stopping it from making the strange jingling sound. An eagle and not a Dinar or an Imperial coin this, he thought amused and unsure on what the gesture meant. It was obvious to Laius that the first, very weird in appearance Zilan had left it there somehow without anyone noticing it. How he’d crossed this lit up portion of the room with three set of eyes looking about alarmed a nigh impressive feat.
“Huh,” Laius guffawed and shook his head just as the perturbed Duke returned from searching the nearby premises.
“By the Allgods! This palace is crammed full of wierdos or something right? What’s the matter now?” Doris griped seeing Laius expression and pulled the chair to sit down.
“He paid for the blasted eggs,” a disbelieving Laius retorted and pointed at his now empty plate. Of everything else that had happened, this felt like the most bizarre event to him.
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Many hours later
Late evening of the 4th, or early morning of the 5th of month Neter 3400 IC (194NC)
Third Era
Morn Taras throne room
The black mask wearing King of Wetull marched inside his throne room from another side door just as the first light of day lit up the single window over the far edge of the great hall they had been trapped inside.
Since the previous morning really.
Laius kicked the sleeping and loudly snoring Duke awake, Doris’ disheveled head leaned back loosely over the top of his chair after succumbing to two bottles of Goras wine. The Duke snapped awake closing his mouth and blinked in confusion.
“Where are they? Ah…” The King said and walked briskly towards them, arms and armour covered in black soot for some reason.
“What…?” Doris murmured rubbing at his swollen eyes, looking about the place unsure.
“Friends…” the King started looking at Laius and then at the slow to get up on his feet Doris. He paused, the metal mask moving his mouth into a grimace of disbelief. It sent a shiver down Laius’ spine. “Luthos stepped on his hanging balls and squashed them,” King Garth said sounding astonished at the sight of them. “Why, you two look even more maltreated and miserable than I recall!”
“Ehm…” Laius tried to say and Garth stood back, a hand scratching a point on his chin under the mask.
“Rimeros what happened to them?” He asked the courtier that had reappeared. Rimeros pursed his lips in a grimace of distaste.
“Troy caught them fooling around with Ziba-Ra Hardir.”
“What? For real? Hah-hah!” The King guffawed and stared at the ogle-eyed, swollen and bandaged face of the terrified Laius. “Were bodily fluids exchanged Rimeros?”
“Only blood Hardir. Theirs.”
“Thank gods that would’ve been awkward to explain given she’s also sleeping under my roof. I’ve enough problems on that front as it plaguing is! Well, not much damage that I can see on them,” Garth noted shaking his helmed head. “You won’t do it again… hmm?”
“No your grace,” Laius replied quickly smacking the arm of Doris abruptly as the latter was about to protest at the accusation.
“Listen,” Garth told them conspiratorially but Laius didn’t relax nor did he fall for the Monarch’s trap. “I know the girl is as fine as summer wine but we don’t do that here. You want a partner because yer lonely and all miserable, know we have too much unattached tit for the demand as a matter of fact. Plenty of cock too but keep that shit out of these walls. Anyways you just have to ask first to avoid any mishaps. You don’t, then ye take the risk and live wit the consequences or ye don’t. Are we in agreement gents?”
“Yes Hardir,” Rimeros replied looking at Laius knowingly.
“Eh, we understand your grace.”
“Quite clear my lord,” Doris retorted gruffly.
“What do you understand exactly?” Garth asked sobering up and Laius that had feared that it had been perhaps a trick query from the start, exhaled bit by bit not to squeal aloud panicked.
“There’s enough free tit around for the demand,” the Duke replied hauntingly in a rare bout of clarity and the King of Wetull slapped his hands before him with a chuckle.
“Splendid,” he announced. “Now that’s a potential big problem easily resolved Rimeros.”
“Indeed Hardir,” the Zilan droned, not looking like he believed the matter to be of any importance whatsoever.
King Garth snorted and then gazed at the two sheepish Lorians somberly, again switching from being pleasant to being completely grim in the blink of an eye. A pair of striking amber-eyes contributing to this madness emanating from him. Nothing Zilan in these eyes though, they look almost human, Laius thought but the smell of burned flesh reaching his nostrils from the stained and soot-covered King disabused the notion out of him for a while.
“I don’t trust you,” he told Doris and the Duke blinked in shock. “You,” the King continued looking at the shaking Laius. “I trust even less. You seem rather sneaky, hmm? Why are you here men of Regia?” He asked evenly.
“We seek asylum from the King beyond the Pale Mountains,” Doris reminded him. “We talked of this earlier your grace. It’s been a day since.”
“Days in Goras are long and eventful. You should have seen mine,” Garth replied mockingly. “But that wasn’t what I asked Mister Doris. For a Duke you are quite out of touch wit how things work in the realm.” He turned to stare at the tensed Laius. “Why are you here Mister Cinna?” The King asked again.
“We’re here to serve your grace,” Laius replied quickly stumbling through the words and preying he’d deciphered the Monarch’s meaning correctly.
“That’s god darn right!” Garth agreed rigidly and nodded his horned head quite pleased. The metal mask had formed a smirk on his covered face. Whatever magic was involved in this it was beyond Laius’ comprehension. He just wished they had risked the Old Crow’s court instead or even Zofia’s brutes. Better to live in the bitter cold than consort with the insane.
“Find them a room inside Morn Taras. Plenty of space left to fill,” Garth ordered the stiff Rimeros and the Zilan bowed his blue head low. “You are dismissed.” The King added and walked towards the table to sit on the chair the Duke had slept in.
“Gratitude your grace,” Doris said relieved and tapped the devastated Laius’ shoulder to snap him out of his misery. They were trapped here. We’re never seeing the light of day again. Uher helps us! Rimeros signed for them to follow after him. “I told you everything was going to turn out fine,” the Duke started as they hurried behind the fast moving Rimeros. They were heading for a different part of the building across the corridor they had visited earlier.
“Mister Cinna,” Garth was heard from afar before Laius had the time to reply to Doris’ rumbling. “You stay for a while.”
Laius paused shaking and Doris continued after the Zilan with a last look of encouragement and a silent ‘you got this old friend’ which did nothing to alleviate Laius’ worries.
He walked back towards the table occupied by the silent King on heavy legs. Men that were about to have their heads chopped off probably had more spring in their step than Laius at that moment. Garth had found the silver eagle coin the mysterious Zilan had left behind earlier and was rolling it in his gloved fingers thoughtfully.
“Have a goblet with me Mister Cinna,” Garth said and pocketed the coin casually. “Open a new bottle.”
“There’s no more wine left my Lord,” Laius croaked in a small voice.
“There’s more in the cupboard,” Garth replied calmly. “Back there, where the portraits are. You know where it is?”
“Aye my lord,” Laius replied before he could control himself and the King chuckled seeing his scared reaction.
“Only fools or the naïve don’t look for a way out of a stranger’s hall Mister Cinna,” Garth commented and signed for him to go and get them a fresh bottle. “I happen to look for an experienced and smart dude to take on a serious task and you seem to fit the bill ironically. Is my gut wrong?” He asked on his back and Laius paused on shaking knees. He gulped down and pivoted to stare at the Monarch’s real face. Garth had removed the mask and had placed it on the table.
Whatever the king asks, Laius had foolishly advised the Duke of Aegium thinking it would come down to a moment like this. You shouldn’t deny him.
Or we’re both dead.
Laius cared more about his own fate than Doris’ despite liking the Duke a lot, but either way it had boiled down to the same thing basically.
“You are not wrong sire,” Laius had replied clenching both fists tightly and the white-haired life-like mask now in the flesh had nodded with the face of a human.
Laius hadn’t seen a scarier person in his life.
“I thought so,” Garth noted simply and added with a crook’s smirk. “Hurry up now Lord Treasurer. We’ve a meeting to attend to and I can’t get through one wit a dry gullet. A new day is ahead of us. Chop-chop.”
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