The table was dead quiet. Callan glanced from the Radavan to Kivi to Belinda to Kivi again. No one seemed to know how to break the silence.
Finally, Belinda spoke, staring daggers at her son. “You said that you would support my decision.”
“Yes, concerning what to do about the cult we’re already dealing with, not about adding another into the mix. All this man and his followers will bring is the likelihood this turns into a bloodbath.”
Both Paeral and Sworv glanced up at the mention of a cult, the former wearing a concerned frown. Kivi gave a quick shake of her head before either could speak.
“I did decide what to do about Veritas and his followers, and this man—” The mayor pointed at Callan “—is my answer. Now, you can either sit down and behave yourself, or you can be excluded from the conversation. Which is it?”
“Hmmph. As if you don’t know my answer.” Radavan dropped into a seat, shooting daggers around the room. “You may be mayor, mother, but I’d sooner swallow the Emperor than leave you alone to be taken advantage of by... that.”
His gaze lingered on Callan for a moment. Xeph let out a chuckle.
Ah, I see what these yeth are doing. Clever. They are using a classic technique, mortal. In ancient times, it was referred to as ‘benevolent guardsman, heartless guardsman’. See, one of the pair will—
“Yeah, I got it. We have the same thing back on Earth. Good cop, bad cop.”
Everyone turned and stared at Callan. He flushed. “Just, ah, quick side conversation with Xeph. No need to concern yourself with it.”
“Is that the name of the god who resides inside you? ‘Xeph’?” Radavan asked, his tone dismissive. Callan bristled, but Kivi responded before he could.
“His full name is Xeph-Zul-Karatl, god of stone and mountains. And we are not here to take advantage of anyone, especially the mayor. Our intention is for a long-term relationship with Aos, not short-term gains.”
“Oh, and what, exactly have you got on offer that you think is worth risking ourselves?”
Kivi glanced at Belinda. “I think a better understanding of the situation is required first. The mayor was hesitant to share details before we could prove our commitment. After that, we can talk about what Xeph-Zul-Karatl can offer—and at what cost.”
“Aha!” Radavan said, half rising from his chair. “You see, mother? They let their true intentions show through, already. Would you trade the tyranny of one cult for another, just like that?”
“Oh, sit down, boy. We always knew there would be a price for their aid. It is simply a matter of which tide we can bear the easier.”
Belinda’s eyes found Callan. “Though now that we may speak, yeth to yeth, I hope you will weigh the gratitude of your kind of an equal measure to that of the measure of your followers.”
Even without Xeph’s peanut-gallery commentary, Callan could see what the mayor was trying to do. Appealing to their shared race—or what she believed to be their shared race—in the hopes of gaining an upper hand in their dealings. Now he understood why Kivi had asked him to let her lead the negotiations.
Leaning back, Callan crossed his arms and affected a wry smile. “It’s not me you’ll need to convince, Mayor, it’s my high priestess. I’m just here as the battery.”
“Battery?”
“Ah, never mind.”
The mayor glanced at Kivi, and Callan drew a not-insignificant amount of schadenfreude from the frustrated expression she now wore. He seriously hoped the woman hadn’t been so cagey during the first visit only because she’d thought negotiating with another yeth would be easier.
If so, was she in for a world of surprise.
“I think we are getting sidetracked,” Kivi said, drawing all eyes back to her. “Mayor, you mentioned a name before, Veritas. Is that the avatar that leads this cult?”
“No. If their avatar has a name, they’ve never offered it during our few encounters.”
“Are they not from your village?”
Belinda frowned. “I don’t believe so, but I can’t say for certain. Both the avatar and their priests wear masks to hide their identity. It’s been part of why rooting them out has proven so difficult.”
“Then Veritas is their patron deity.”
“Correct.”
Hmm, Xeph said. Another unfamiliar god. Strange.
“What? Is it really that surprising?” Callan muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Aren’t there like, several thousand gods on this continent alone?”
At the very least, and likely even more on the larger ones, Cainox and Gyviar in particular. Still, there was a time when I knew all of my siblings by name if not by sight. The parties we used to throw every decade were lavish beyond measure and lasted for weeks. Plenty of time to get to know any number of gods from the furthest continents.
Callan tried to imagine being forced to attend a weeks-long party just so Xeph could shmooze with a bunch of other incorporeal beings like himself but couldn’t do it. He’d be lucky to last a day before noping out.
“Do you happen to know what kind of god they are?” he asked, interrupting another argument between Belinda and her son. Seriously, he admired them for sticking to their scripts, but at this rate the conversation was going to take all night.
“Sorry, Avatar, but what do you mean by that?”
“Every god seems to have an aspect. Xeph’s is stone, and Zavastu’s was fire. Any clue what this Veritas specializes in?”
The two yeth glanced at each other but remained silent. The question hung in the air, unanswered, and Kivi looked as if she were about to continue on when a quiet voice said, “Metal.”
All eyes turned to Alyssa, who turned pink at the sudden attention. Lowering her gaze to the table, she continued, “I saw a priest using their gifts, once. They reshaped a small piece of metal from the forge into a knife. I don’t think they knew I was watching, but...” she trailed off.
“Well, that settles it,” Belinda said. “If anyone here knows metal, it’s our resident blacksmith.”
Callan nodded, making a mental note to corner Alyssa later and try to squeeze every last detail he could out of her concerning the cult’s various powers. For now though, there were more important details to focus on.
On this point, he and Kivi seemed to be of a like mind. The high priestess cleared her throat, and asked, “And what sort of damage has the cult done so far?”
The three yeth all frowned at her. At last, Belinda spoke. “Begging your pardon, High Priestess, but what is that supposed to mean?”
“Last time we spoke, you told me that your town was beset upon by a cult. That they had threatened you and your people. That you feared for your very lives so long as they remained. So how many have they enslaved? How many have been killed? Have they laid claim to your storehouses or raided your homes?”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Her gaze flitted about, taking in the simple but well-supplied kitchen. Callan suspected they both knew the answer to that last question already.
Then again, for all he knew, Belinda had a chest or two of gold upstairs that had been carried off by the cult. Though that seemed unlikely, given, you know, the whole being farmers thing.
Belinda glanced between Kivi and Callan. Her mouth twitched once. Twice. She started to chuckle, which turned into a snicker, which metamorphosed into a full-bodied laugh. Callan shared a confused glance with the high priestess before she managed to get herself back under control.
“Oh, sorry... *hah*... about that. You’ll have to forgive this old woman a moment of levity in what has been an otherwise stressful period. It’s so easy to forget how you other inferior races live, being isolated on this plateau as we are.”
Kivi bristled visibly at the ‘inferior races’ comment but appeared to rein herself in before speaking. “Oh? Would you please be so kind as to enlighten me as to what is so amusing about this situation?”
“It’s not the situation that amusing so much as what you think the situation is.” Belinda glanced up, saw their confused expressions, and almost descended into a fit of laughter once again.
“What my mother is trying to say,” Radavan said, as the older woman wiped at her eyes with a rough-looking handkerchief, “Is that we have not ‘lost’ any people, nor have our homes or storehouses been raided. Other elevated races may do such things, but yeth do not.”
“But... you said you feared for your lives.” Kivi’s voice had lost its confident edge. Personally, Callan was right there with her.
“That’s right.” The mayor sat up, all traces of humor gone from her face now. “The bastards that have fallen for this god’s honeyed lies are going to tear this town apart! Already, their ideas are spreading amongst the rest of the village. It won’t be long now until I’ll be forced to meet their demands.”
“And what exactly are those?”
Belinda shuddered and closed her eyes. “To build a bridge.”
Silence reigned over the table again. Callan glanced at Kivi. The lud girl met his gaze and gave a confused shrug. He turned back to Belinda.
“Perhaps you’d better start at the beginning.”
----------------------------------------
“For decades, my village’s greatest strength has been its isolation. Unfortunately, it’s also our weakness. Grain and other exports have to be transported by pully to the bottom of the canyon, then brought back up again on the other side. It’s a time-consuming process, and subject to the whims of moons and seasonal storms.” Belinda paused a moment to sip from the cup in front of her, then continued, “Still, the village has always understood that safety outweighs convenience. It was never a problem until recently.”
“What changed?” Callan asked.
“Youth, if I had to wager. Too many youngins in the village now, and not enough of the older generation to remind them what it was like, before. My husband used to speak of it at our annual harvest festival, but he’s long since ascended to the Cairn, and I haven’t got half his skill with words.”
Radavan came up and placed a hand on his mother’s shoulder. Whatever false antagonism they had been affecting before seemed to have been abandoned. She smiled at her son, then turned her attention back to Callan.
“There’s always been a few that grumbled over my policy, but before, the threat of Zavastu was enough to keep it at that—just grumbles. The goddess never sent her priests to our village, despite extracting tithes from farms on all the surrounding plateaus, which seemed proof enough that our policies were sound.
“Then Veritas appeared.”
“They offered your people his protection?” Kivi guessed.
From her expression, Callan could practically read the girl’s mind: the situation wasn’t entirely dissimilar from his own appearance in Tok. Except that there, the lud had been desperate for a savior. Desperate enough even to trust a stranger who stumbled right into their midst.
Suddenly he found himself missing Tervak. The elder had saved them all by taking a chance on Callan and his divine powers. It easily could have gone a different, less pleasant direction.
“They offered more than just protection,” Radavan said, drawing Callan’s attention back to the conversation. “Veritas wanted to elevate our plateau above all others. With our villagers as their priests and army, they would chase Zavastu from the plateau and make Aos into the greatest metropolis the Badlands has ever seen outside Amon Tul.”
Belinda snorted. “Yeah, and I’m secretly a duchess from the Northern Alliance. Standing against a god with the power that Zavastu wields would be the height of foolishness. Still, it got some of the less content villagers talking. And now...”
Kivi sat up straighter in her chair. “Is this why you rushed Silfia and I to your home when we first arrived? Because I was speaking of our victory over the cult?”
“That’s right. So far, I’ve managed to keep that little revelation under wraps. Sooner or later, however, someone from one of the other plateaus is going to talk. Which is why we need the problem dealt with. Preferably soon.”
“Wait. Let me see if I got this,” Callan said, raising his hand. All eyes turned towards him. “You want to keep your village isolated, but some of the town disagrees with you. And Veritas has added fuel to the fire by offering to help protect you in exchange for your faith. Is that about right?”
“Not just our faith, Avatar. He wants each and every one of my citizens to serve in his priesthood. Ridiculous.” Belinda shook her head and took another sip of her tea.
Ridiculous is right, Xeph noted. Converting every villager here to a priest would take weeks. Not to mention straining his own reserves to the point of breaking. Although...
“Yeah?”
No, never mind. We need more information about this god before I’ll know for certain.
“Well, that is something we can offer over this Veritas,” Kivi was saying to the mayor. “Xeph would require none of your people to offer themselves to his priesthood. Unless they wished to serve, of course.”
Belinda shook her head. “No priests. I’ll tell you now that’s not on the table. You’ll take none of my villagers as priests, and you’ll build no temple here. Both are non-negotiable.”
“Surely, we can come to some accord. What if one of your people wishes to serve?”
“Then you’ll refuse their offer. I won’t budge on this point, High Priestess. Don’t ask again.”
Kivi’s lips pressed together into two thin lines. “Very well. A higher offering of faith will be required. Or perhaps a larger tithe of your next harvest.”
“Our crops have been good this year, but not so good we can afford to give away everything we usually reserve for trade.” The mayor looked thoughtful. “I could offer you perhaps... one in twenty bushels of our next harvest? I think that’s more than generous.”
“Make it one in ten,” Kivi retorted. “And we want a minimum of forty villagers to pledge themselves to Xeph-Zul-Karatl.”
Belinda shook her head. “The best I can do is twenty-five. Ten now, and fifteen when Veritas no longer threatens my village.” Then, as if it were an afterthought, she added, “And I can do one in seventeen bushels. Since you’re twisting my arm and all.”
“Thirty villagers, and no less. Otherwise, the risks here simply outweigh the reward.”
“I’ll have you know my villagers’ faith are worth twice that of any of the other races. Twenty-seven, and one in fifteen bushels. Better the grain than my people.”
“All faith is the same in Xeph-Zul-Karatl’s eyes.” Kivi crossed her arms. “Thirty-five followers and one in twelve bushels.”
The mayor spluttered and coughed, her tea spilling across the wooden table. Immediately, Alyssa leapt to her feet, seizing a nearby rag and wiping it away before the liquid had a chance to set in. “Oh, mother, there’s no need to be so melodramatic.”
“Melodramatic? I’ll show you—” The mayor glowered at Kivi. “You don’t go higher again after I’ve dropped the amount. Didn’t anyone teach you how to haggle?”
“Oh. My apologies, Mayor.” Kivi gave a short bow.
“Yes, that’s more like it. Now, we can possibly spare—”
“Yes, I apologize for not properly explaining the situation,” the lud continued, cutting the older woman off. “We were never haggling. I was merely setting the price for our god’s assistance based on what I felt you could bear. Now, I have determined it. You can either accept these terms, or we can leave. Thirty-five followers, and one in twelve bushels. Take it. Or leave it.”
“What? Arrogant little mudrat—”
“The price is now forty followers. Do you wish me to raise it again?”
“You—Tch. Suppose I deserved that.”
The two women stared at each other, the mayor’s eyes narrowed, the high priestess relaxed and confident. Radavan’s gaze flicked between them. “Mother, you can’t seriously be considering this... this robbery! It’s indecent! It’ll ruin us!”
“Quiet, boy. The game is over. Let the adults talk.” Belinda’s gaze never left Kivi. “You promise your avatar can help us? And when you’re done, you’ll take your priests and go back to your little temple?”
“Yes. Provided your people do not abandon their faith and the grain shipment is received before the start of the rainy season.”
The mayor nodded. “We can handle that. I’m glad we could reach an accord, High Priestess.” She held out a hand.
“I as well.” Kivi raised her own and reached forward.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on just a dang minute,” Callan said. Both women looked at him in confusion. “Ki—ah, High Priestess, are we really just agreeing to this already? We don’t even know what we’re signing up for yet.”
“I thought that obvious, Avatar.” Kivi’s voice was flat. “You are to remove the threat of the cult from this plateau.”
“Yeah... but what does that even entail? It doesn’t even sound like this cult is being violent. Are we really going to attack them unprovoked?”
“I would prefer it if you didn’t,” Belinda said. “Many, if not all, of Veritas’s priests are members of this village, though I know not who specifically. Still, the fewer that must be harmed, the more that will be left to work their fields when this whole unpleasantness is behind us.”
Callan resisted the urge to throw up his hands. “So what exactly do you expect me to do to help you?”
“Challenge Veritas, of course. Win this plateau and the surrounding area from him, and he’ll be forced to retreat. His priests will either choose to scurry back to me with their tails between their legs or follow him into exile.”
Ahh. Of course.
“You know what she’s talking about?” Callan asked, another rant dying on the tip of his tongue.
I do, mortal. The mayor is referring to one of the ancient edicts laid down by my fellow deities and I, one which has been used many times to avoid wars and bloodshed.
She’s referring to a ritual duel.