On monsters III – Excerpts from Imperial Studies of Corruption
...following a tradition from the great south, certain monsters have been known to be tamed. They are often the result of peaceful creatures who suffered a low amount of corruption...
Last day of Early spring / Mercy 782 ADM – Eternal Empire – Modona’s upper district – Kabey’s mansion
The sun hadn’t even shown its light when Ulysse was taken from his borrowed bed, it had not been Victoria this time. She was being likewise dragged from her bed by two guards in orange Kabey livery. Unable to resist they were taken in the air, lifted by each arm, made to leave the compound, then enter two of four coaches that had been parked into the domain.
Still reeling from being forcefully sat in the coach, Ulysse didn’t notice his companion until he spoke.
“Hey, isn’t it my pale little guy,” A hissing voice proclaimed, “You don’t look like you slept much either.”
It was of course Veless, apparently his sole companion. The Saryn looked tired not from eye-bags unlike Ulysse, scales did not show those things, but from his general posture leaned deep in the coach. He almost looked like he'd been napping before Ulysse arrived.
“You don’t need to act like we are friends, I haven’t forgotten what you did to Grace.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll charm you over eventually, someday you will be proud to say I’m your friend.”
“Unless you force me into another deal I doubt that will ever happen.”
“You don’t happen to consider me sparring your knight a favor owned do you?”
Ulysse sent him a dark glare in guise of an answer, then turned his gaze back to the windows.
The outside was slowly being lit by the rising sun, he could see, but nor hear – the sound wards were active – a whole bunch of Kabey guards taking positions around the coaches while a smaller regiment of hunters seemed to stay in the back of the convoy. He counted at least thirty guards and maybe ten hunters, that was a lot, actually the small army could very well storm his residence if they hit before reinforcements could be gathered and the Olians equipped their armors. Though that assessment might have been wrong given his recent discovery of magic in the family.
Still they would be more than enough to send a message, and keep the hostages away from family.
At last he saw a very fancily dressed old-person enter the front coach, they were a Saryn, though without hearing them speak he couldn’t tell their gender. There was also a black skinned man and woman with white hair, and finally a tanned man walking with a cane, theses three didn’t look quite as fancy as the lizardkin however.
Soon after what he supposed were the elders had taken a seat, the coaches took of. He sat back down on his seat, not wanting to fall after the first bump. There he noticed something new, resting on Veless' hip, attached to his belt, was his gift, The ornate scabbard and guard were unmistakable. Just next to him was a grocery bag he recognized just as well.
“You know that sword looks a bit short on you.”
“You think so too? I was thinking of selling it really.”
His remark made Ulysse flinch, he absolutely did not want to lose his sister’s sword.
“But I might be inclined to give it back to a friend.”
The lizardkin's incessant attempts at friendliness were becoming infuriating, Ulysse had decided he would not like him after what he did. Ironic given that he yearned to have friends. Yet Veless didn’t seem so bad and Ulysse usually liked to banter, the Saryn even reminded Ulysse of uncle Robert, just a bit more serious and with a tendency for trading favors.
“Does everything you ever do involve blackmail.”
“It does when I talk to grumpy boys.”
“Anyways, let's say you are my friend,” he held his hand up, palm open, “Can I have the sword back?”
“I'm very touched by your admission of friendship.”
Veless still didn’t make a single move toward the sword, it was shocking not to be swayed by such an honest declaration of friendship.
“But?” Ulysse asked, in a sarcastic tone.
“But why don’t we talk some more, you like swords don’t you?”
Ulysse had never really asked himself the question, he just learnt swordplay because the Olian kids did too and he wanted friends, then his sister had joined in and it became a competition.
“I don’t know.”
“Ho, so it’s not a game to you?” Veless seemed pleased with his answer.
“I guess it’s more of a competition now, I want to win.”
“You say that like you don’t win, yet you certainly bet Osen.”
“That doesn’t count, he was holding back.”
“Didn’t seems that way to me, you pushed him on the defensive, and had you been a little faster I wouldn’t have stopped you from gutting him.”
“That’s as fast as I’ll ever get, I can’t channel.”
“So what? I beat your knight yet she could channel almost twice as much as me, with perfect efficiency, and an emanation.”
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Veless looked at him while unhooking the sword from his belt, then threw it at the boy.
“Use tools, poisons, peoples, fight dirty. That’s how you win, no matter your prey.”
“Its not a swordfight anymore then!”
“You said you used the sword for competition, swordfights are games, hunting, using everything at your disposal, is competition.”
Ulysse hesitated.
“I'll think about it.”
“My pleasure little friend.”
The two fell in thoughtful silence, Veless happy to have won over the angsty boy. Meanwhile the boy was a bit perplexed at the idea, it went against what the martial books said, defied honor, and forgot the use of clean techniques. He might try it when he stopped being able to fight his sister, until then he was just happy to have gotten her sword back.
“Just so you know, if you draw on me I'm keeping the sword this time.”
Ulysse wasn’t dumb, he knew he had no chance against the hunter.
***
Ten minutes later – Front gate of the Merentah’s domain - Cepore
Cepore was just a guard, though he wouldn’t let anyone call him ‘just a guard' anymore, after all he was recently promoted a Patrician guard, sworn to house Merentah. He took great pride in wearing their livery.
At least he did in first few days after he had started his service, now his older colleagues had disillusioned him. If he had once admired the patricians house from afar, now he knew how cutthroat they were. Which was why he was only mildly surprised when he saw a small army marching towards them in the rising morning sun.
With haste he grabbed the alarm rope and tugged on it, ringing the large bell connected further up. Then he rang it again, and again, each time with more force and inertia.
That succeeded in waking his older ‘supervisor’, who had been napping straight up while leaning on his halberd. To his credit he wasted no time waking up, likely a skill earned while not doing his job, and started yelling seconds after.
“We are under attack! To arms at the gate!”
While his superior screamed his lungs out, Cepore had stopped ringing the bell, anyone not woken up by the first dozen loud rings wouldn’t wake up any time soon anyways. He now turned his attention towards their assailants, who were now about a hundred meters away, well within bow range. Suddenly he didn’t feel so safe behind the wrought iron gates. More interestingly however he recognized their livery, Kabey. There were rumors that they were in a conflict with the house he served, and more importantly that they had captured several members of the Merentahs.
“Sir I think I recognize the Kabey livery.”
“Shit!”
His supervisor added in call of “The kabeys are attacking us!” to his shouts.
Sometimes, Cepore thought he was better at the job than his superior.
As other guards, not patrician guards, started streaming in he started ordering them, setting up light fortifications and pavises behind the gates, while also strengthening the gates with thick logs that sat inside purpose made slots.
By the time all was done the small army had stopped ten meters from the gates while only a few Olian knights had joined them, even there they were still struggling with the straps, or had elected not to wear, their plate armors.
Had their enemy wanted to burst in they likely could have. Instead their frontline split in the middle in an obviously trained movement, revealing someone climbing down from a coach, it was a scaled subhuman in fancy attire and holding a scroll. What an insult than to be addressed by an unholy creature, thought Cepore.
“I am an elder of the Kabey clan and have come to represent us in the reading of our demands.”
The lizardkin paused, fully unfurling her scroll.
“Two days from the end of Mercy, house Merentah has done deeds of great infamy to our clan, those will be remembered long after this day. However in this last day of utmost Mercy our clan has offered his hospitality to three of your house.” The claim elicited gasps from the Merentah’s side, “We hope our kindness may be reciprocated in the shape of compensation for past events, without which we fear to be unable to host yours any longer.”
Cepore's eyes widened, he'd never been one for insinuations but that seemed a lot like a threat.
“As such, we ask that a that delegation be sent tomorrow at sunrise to our residence in order to discuss our future relations, together with a compensation of 8 crowns, while another 8 crowns be sent on the last day of Life, Vengeance, and Death, so that we may spare those from your kind.”
8 Crowns, or grand gold were a huge sum, make that a four time payment and it amounted to about 50 years of salary to Cepore, over a century counting taxes and the price of life. And he had a good job. However it was a price the Merentah could pay.
The subhuman rolled back her scroll, handing it to one of his guards. Said guard made his way to the gate, scroll extended.
“Please take this scroll so you may read clearly our demands.”
Cepore was about to step forward and take the scroll when a wrinkled, yet furiously strong hand pushed him to the side. It was Lady Kristina, the family's matriarch. She snatched the extended arm of the Kabey guard, pulling, and slamming him to the gate eliciting a sinister crack and pained scream. Then she took the scroll in her free hand.
“Kabey, you will release my grandchildren at once or I swear I,” she was cut of by the poor guard whimpering and affirmed her grip on his broken arm, shutting him up, “I will shove this scroll and this guy's arm down you bloody throat if you don’t release them this instant.”
“Lady Merentah, we are ready to release your grandson, the young Ulysse on account of his age if given the first compensation now as an act of goodwill. Otherwise, we will be leaving 4 minutes from now.”
By now many Merentah had arrived at the gate, witnessing the interaction and started yelling in outrage. Yet the Kabey’s envoy ignored them, hiding back behind her soldiers.
Next to him, Cepore noticed the matriarch trying to get someone from her family to go fetch the compensation, the yelling however made that an impossible task. He knew an occasion when he saw one, maybe he could get a promotion away from his incompetent superior.
“Matriarch,” he yelled over the chaos to be heard, “May I help with the fetching of crowns?”
“Who are you? Hells it doesn’t matter, Silvestre should still be inside the mansion, show him this and he will open the strongbox,” She threw him a key, half of a key to be exact, “Steal and you'll suffer the same end.”
Cepore followed her gaze, shocked, half an arm lay next to the gates, she must have ripped it off in the chaos. It’s owner was being dragged back behind enemy lines.
He gulped and took running, praying to Body that he may go faster.
He caught up with the Patriarch who had barely made it a dozen meters out from his mansion. Then he was quick to convince him to open the strongbox, giving the old man his wife's key. When the patriarch made him follow to his room upstairs he insisted on staying out of the room, fearing he would not be able to hold back from stealing. Then once given the 8 crowns he ran back out.
He would never admit that he was tempted to just run-away with the fifteen years of salary.
He arrived panting at the gates, the delegation had moved back a bit but thanks the Eternals he was on time. He bulled through a few a the Merentahs in haste, hoping the slight would be forgiven due to the situation.
“Matriarch, I have them.”
His hand clenched white against the ornate grand gold coins he reached toward his lady and deposited them.
With a nod of thanks and a reassured expression she turned back to the gate.
“Old scale, we have your damn coins, give me back my grandson!”
“Very well, verify her claims”
One of the enemy guards warily advanced, watching the matriarch with naked fear after her earlier arm-ripping display, however this time she simply gave him the crowns. And he walked back to his ranks.
“Eight indeed. Release the child!”
A guard opened the second coach, and a pale young boy came out, escorted by a vicious looking subhuman. They made their way to the front as the Kabeys lines parted, then the boy was left alone to cross the gap.
It was a strange sight, the hostage had been allowed to carry a grocery bag, and a shortsword with him.
The hostage started running as the gates opened, blinking tears stricken eyes, and threw himself in the arms of his grandmother.
The Kabey left the grounds and tentative calm came back.