"Festicus…"

Marcus stared down at the felled rat, watching as his great furrowed head lulled and fell to the side.

"Festicus!"

"He issss being gone, Ssssire," Verulex said behind him.

Marcus bent low and tried to rouse the great brute that had saved his life, denying that he was about to let another rat man die for him like Gatskeek had.

"Wake up, Marrow soldier!" he yelped in the creature's vacant eyes. "There's cavalry charges still to be led!"

No response. Sullen and vengeful, Marcus let the head drop.

I hesitated, he thought. I didn't act quick enough. If I had the damn foresight to grab that blade sooner…

"Be letting him be. He isss doing hisss duty to Clan and –"

"Oh, shut up, priest," Marcus spat, turning with fury to look upon the hooded cretin who was still managing to coax his anger even now. "Your Order might consider a single rat's life to be meaningless – something to just throw away in the service of your God, but this warrior deserved more than this."

The High Priest of Glumrot fixed Marcus with his puss-filled eyes. Those eyes spoke of toxic thoughts ruminating beneath them.

"Be turning your thoughtssss to vengeancccce, Sssssire," Verulex wheezed as he shambled over to the Matron's eviscerated body and prodded at it with the staff of his office, making sure the creature's life had finally expired. He then nodded down at the still breathing form of the unconscious Yeeva below Marcus, the soft skin of her belly weeping purple blood from the perforation Marcus had made as she took Festicus's life.

He scoffed at the priest and picked up the Wakisashi that had fallen at his feet, bending low and directing his hatred at the fallen Yokra who was mumbling as though in a dream-state.

Perhaps it was a meditation practice of their kind, Marcus thought. It didn't make any biological sense for a creature to immediately collapse into unconsciousness as she just had in receiving such a near fatal wound.

He leaned closer to her as Verulex amplified his voice and called down to the army still waiting below, telling them to send a detachment and a priest to sanctify the body of one of their dead. The enemy Yokun had fallen, and they would receive some special treatment of their own.

Marcus heard general cheers resound as this proclamation echoed all through the dim streets of the putrid city. But he ignored them. Instead, he craned his neck to hear what the felled serpent was saying. There was a word on her lips that he could swear had the ring of familiarity to it.

"Matriarch…Pale…Pale Lady…"

Loyal to a fault, Marcus thought. Even in death, you sing your leader's praises. If you are a representative of one of her soldiers, I'm sure she's a force to be reckoned with among your people. That's just another reason why you have to die.

He brought the edge of the Yokun's Wakizashi to her scaled, bloody throat, tensing up as he knew that he had to do this. He had to. He wouldn't hesitate anymore.

And just as he held her head in his hand and made to bring the blade across her neck, that's when he heard it:

"…Mari…"

His hand stopped.

His brain froze.

The Wakisashi wavered as though willing him to follow-through with his desire.

But a very different desire now burned in his heart as that word traveled through his entire system and sent shivers running down his spine.

"Matriarch…Lady…Maria…"

The blade clattered against the silo platform.

"What isss happening?" Verulex asked. "Ssssire, isss thissss beasssst resssisssting?"

Marcus shook his head.

"No."

"Then be sssslaying her and let ussss go. I sssshal be honored to be ssssshowing you Clan Glumrot'sssss wayssss of debassssing the dead."

Marcus could barely even hear the words of the priest. He could register nothing in this moment except the croaking of that name – Mari's name – emanating from the slitted lips of the downed serpent.

"Bah!" Verulex howled. "Be giving me the blade. I sssshal do i-"

"No," Marcus said, then turning to the priest as though he had just been transported back to reality. "No. We take her alive."

The priest cocked his vile, hooded head at Marcus.

"Your pity for thesssse foreign hereticssss isssss doing you no favorssss, Sssshai-Alud," he said. "The Koboldssss are bad enough. Now you are even ssssshowing merccccy to the killer of your commander?"

"We…we need to question her," Marcus explained, straightening up and trying to compose himself as best he could. "We have the opportunity here to find out what she knows, where she came from, even Skegga's force composition potentially. We can't afford to lose this opportunity."

He looked into the face of the ratman and saw what he had not quite been able to see in the war-chamber earlier that night. He saw the wrinkled eyes of the holy rat narrow, and the teeth flare in anger.

"Sssssire," the priest began, slowly. "You are not undersssstanding. I am being head priesssst of Glumrot. I am favored voicccce of He-Who-Fessssterssss. The bussssinesss of dealing with dead in battle isssss up to me."

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Marcus faced the rat, feeling anger take him once again.

"And I am your Shai-Alud," he said. "You should be speaking to me with more re-"

Now, he saw something else that he hadn't seen before.

He saw the Wakisashi that glimmered in the ratman's right claw.

As the little priest spoke, he watched as the tip of the blade slowly rose to touch Marcus's reverberating heart.

"You are not ssssspeaker for the Unclean," the priest told him in a cold whisper. "You ssssshal never be. A human isssss a human, jusssst assss a Kobold isssss a Kobold and a sssssnake-bitch isssss a sssssnake-bitch. Hereticsssss, all of you. And one day, sssssooon, there ssssshall come a day when you are purged from our gloriousssss empire. And on that day, Ssssshai-Alud, you may sssssee which ratssss in thisssss realm are truly holding the power."

Marcus licked his lips. His eyes now swam to watch the edges of the podium. And he became acutely conscious of just how isolated they were up here, surrounded by the dying and the dead. Like the vicious little creature said, it was his domain.

He maintained his composure. He stalled for time.

"Are you threatening me, Verulex?"

The sly smile that crossed the priest's lips then was more chilling than anything Marcus had seen thus far in the Kingdom of the rats.

"I am but a humble sssservant, Sssshai-Alud," he replied. "We all have our placcce in ratman sssssociety. Even you, Ssssshai-Alud. It issss a beautiful thing, issss it not? He-Who-Festerssss issss a mossst generoussss God. He is even giving sssscum like you a placccce among Hisssss chosen people."

Marcus stepped back as the tip of the knife inched closer to his abdomen. He could swear, still smirking, that the ratman moved with him.

And so when there finally came the rattling of chains from the lip of the silo platform's edge, Marcus was more relieved than ever. And the knife that Verulex once dangled before him simply evaporated into ash.

Magic, it seemed, could hide even the greatest crime.

"Shai-Alud!" the voice of Deekius yelped from the edge of the platform, panting as he and a retinue of soldiers threw themselves over the lip and caught their breath. "You…are you being hurt, Lor-"

"Gloomraava Deekius," Verulex interrupted. "You are coming in good time. I am taking charge of thisssss Yokun bitch. We will be exxxxecuting her publicly tomorrow, after I take sssssome time to – time to –"

The priest collapsed suddenly, coughing up a miasma of his blood in the process.

"Gloomraava Verulex," Deekius said. "You are being maimed. Be coming down, we shall be administering to you."

"Be dealing with Brother Fesssssticusss firsssst, Brother," the old priest coughed as he allowed himself to be helped away. "He issss needing your care more than I."

Marcus watched as the small retinue of rats then took stock of their surroundings, seeing the chaos and carnage that unfolded in such a tiny area over such a short space of time.

"He was being a credit to his Clan," Deekius said. "This is great loss for our people."

Verulex, meanwhile, said nothing at all.

Marcus watched as the Yokun woman was spat on and then trundled off down the silo with the others, thankful that the old priest's wounds at least stopped him from having her slain then and there. Perhaps even he knew he couldn't go against the Shai-Alud's wishes publically.

But he'd just confirmed something that Marcus had already begun to fear – something that became far too obvious to him now after seeing the hatred burning in the eyes of Redwhiskers and Verulex both.

And, more than that, he needed to speak to that snake. He needed that more than anything. He needed to know…was it chance? Or…was Mari really..?

"Marcus," he heard Deekius say outside himself. "It is being alright now. Yokun are not being known to send more than single assassin team. If they are failing, it is because they are not blessed by their heretic Gods. Defeating them here is great victory for us all, and now, you are having nothing to fear."

The ratman lifted his arm to try and guide Marcus away but the latter rejected the help entirely. He crossed to the edge of the platform and looked down upon the city, seeing the crowds cheer to see him alive, wondering which of them truly did have any real love for him at all.

Then his eyes lighted on the descending form of Verulex, and he felt a very different idea take root within his mind.

"No, Deekius," he said. "I have plenty still to fear. But now I know what to do about it."

###

If you are enjoying Fantasy General, support the story on Patreon to read + 10 advanced chapters

Join the Discord server to keep up with Fantasy General and my other works. Honor the memory of our furry comrade by forging memes or telling me your conspiracy theories.