Vedek

Vedek’s legs swung through the empty space beneath the cliff side. There was bluff close to the entrance of the Emperor’s Palace that was a common spot for those that wanted a clean view of the city. The clouds had burst, allowing the setting sun to cast its brilliant rays upon the city. Vedek unfolded his parcel of cloth to display his dinner of turkey on flatbread, a bottle of ale, and a mango.

It had been two weeks since the Siege of Underdune. Legion was taken into an infirmary in the Grand Temple of Sahn along with the other rescued prisoners. The burns covered his body, but the clerics were able to mend the flesh before they became permanent scars. Now all he needed was food and rest. Each time Vedek visited him, either alone or with Azeroth, Frost or Cole, Legion seemed to be expecting someone else to be arriving too.

Rerume had been left where he died.

There was no underselling what a boon the siege had played in turning public opinion against the Order. The documents from the warden’s office detailed many connections to the underworld of Athshin, tying the Order of Suffering not just to the barbatus raids, but also to the necromancer Corban. The poison was the most damning evidence, though many had difficulty accepting it. There were still rumors that Thezzus was pinning his own crime on noble Ghetsis. For the greater Confederacy, factions that lost their stake in the Emperor’s Clash were divided on how to react. Some eagerly turned their aggression from the diablan population to the Order of Suffering, ousting them from many cities. Others held their judgment until a clear victor of the conflict was settled. Vedek’s team had made their testimony known that Rerume had killed the Eldest Cleric, but that message was slower to spread.

“Dinner?” Cole appeared behind Vedek. He had his own bindle of food.

“I’m here for the view more than anything.” Vedek remarked.

Cole voiced his agreement and took a seat beside him. Behind them, envoys trailed the path to the palace. This evening Thezzus was gathering whatever allies he had for a war council. This was to be a greater battle than taking Underdune, their plan of attack on Sráid. That’s where Ghetsis routed the bulk of his forces, operating as the governor of the city until the Ruaidrí Princess could be recovered. It was fortunate then that Odile was so insistent on returning home with the armies of Spiral City behind her.

“I’ve received good news.” Cole said eagerly. He fished a thin piece of parchment from his breast pocket. “Ramuff just turned against the Order of Suffering. Well, not ‘against’, but they’re no longer running things. The diablans have been released and even phyrn are being let back into the city.”

“That is good news. Who’d you hear this from?”

“A duende woman I...met...there.” Cole retracted the letter sheepishly.

“I suppose she signs all her correspondence with a kiss.” Vedek said sardonically.

Cole kept his mouth tight.

“Where are Frost and Azeroth?” Vedek asked. He had not been to their house for the bulk of the day.

“Push-up contest.” Cole replied.

A crowd of diablans passed them. Their clothes were unlike any from this area. They wore thick, dust beaten ponchos that covered varying levels of armor. Their wide brimmed hats were modified to allow for their horns. They carried no weapons, but each seemed anxious for a fight that might come from anywhere.

Vedek arched his eyebrow. “Who are they?”

“Bandits. Well...soldiers. From the Dune Seas. Here for the council I bet. From what I hear, they want to avenge their King, the one that Zam killed at the Feast of Equals.”

“They’re not exactly the Gilded Knights.” Vedek muttered as he observed the motley group.

Cole shrugged. “Neither are we, and we’re invited. They’re here to help and seem genuine enough. You know some have never been this far north? They must have loved their King.”

Vedek turned back to the skyline. It was Onakie’s idea that their group attend the council. Not necessarily to speak, but to observe. It seemed appropriate, given Vedek, Azeroth, and Frost’s vested interest in seeing Sráid returned to Odile.

Yes. Vedek would attend. After his dinner was finished.

Even though the Feast of Equals was more than three weeks passed, it was still remarkable how no trace of it, or the following massacre, could be found in the dining hall. The long table was taken by duplicate maps depicting the territories of Sráid, Spiral City, and the minor holdings between. The appointed Generals of Thezzus’ army shared wine with their allied peers. The brother of Ruy Vivar, Chapman Vivar, represented Eddadel. Vedek assumed it they were not brothers by blood, because the two men had drastically different skin tones. The Barcel brothers were his guests for this council. Alfonso and Juan both sported fresh tattoos in remembrance of Antonio.

Vedek kept to the fringes, passing to the front where Odile’s band gathered. Onakie had a new set of armor gifted by her kin in the city. She stood stalwart and professional over Odile, who had difficulty making herself seen in the low chair she was given. Nosib was set between his daughter and Thezzus, but refused to sit.

“Not going to give your wisdom?” Vedek asked the elder minotaur.

“This is Thezzus’ fight to lead. He’s just happy to have me back. Same goes for my daughter.” He smirked at Onakie, who could certainly hear them. “If I see anything especially asinine I’ll put my hoof down, but for now I’ll leave this to the calfs. Still got your crate of mysteries?”

Vedek nodded. Following their return to Spiral City, Nosib shoved the box of Vedek’s belongings into his arms without a word. It was currently stashed under his bed. Vedek kept intending to open the box and do a proper inventory, but each time he thought of it one of his housemates would appear.

“Anytime I’ll get that explanation I’m owed?” Nosib grumbled.

Vedek looked to Cole. The boy was sat at an empty table in the wings. He was interviewing a soldier for the names of all present. Frost paced the council table from end to end. He seemed saddened he was not allowed a seat. Azeroth was hard to spot until Vedek caught the trail of his leg vanishing into the kitchen chambers.

“When this is done. I think.” Vedek said firmly.

He realized that was vague and corrected: “When there is peace.”

“So not in my lifetime.” Nosib made a bittersweet grimace.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Thezzus stood at his throne, which had been modified to accept a minotaur’s frame. He hammered the blunt end of a short-axe on the table to draw attention. “I call this council to order.”

Silence fell.

“I don’t think any of us intend to hold a lasting conflict with the Order of Suffering. They’re an ideology, and that is hard to war against once it takes root. Some of you are here because you want revenge for their devilish actions at the Feast of Equals, others because you pledge loyalty to Lady Ruaidrí and wished to see her returned to her throne, and some, like me, are here to finish a conflict that started years ago in Finis. At the heart of these disparate causes is the belief in a single ideal: justice. Justice for the slain, justice for Sráid, and justice for the Order’s targets.”

There were murmurs of agreement. Some raised their cups.

“The Order believes they are at the forefront of natural justice. We’ve all seen how seductive their words have been on the people of Athshin. That is why we must defeat them in this single battle. Pluck the weed before its roots grow any deeper. With true justice on our side, the Battle of Sráid could be the end of Order and their ideology. If we fail, then we only give them more time to spread.”

“He’s learned from Finis.” Nosib muttered to Vedek.

Thezzus seated himself. It was Odile’s turn to speak. The Princess stood on her chair so that she could be taller than those she addressed.

“Through a cruel trick of rhetoric, the soldiers of Sráid believe me a hostage and that the Order will be my savior. They will defend the city and its false masters. But a religion is nothing without its bishop and preacher. That is why I propose the elimination of Ghetsis Reballo and his remaining advisers should be our highest priority. If they are no longer poisoning my soldiers’ minds, then there is a chance for the conflict to end before the main army even reaches the Keep.”

“You propose we send assassins into Ghetsis’ bed chambers?” The representative of the diablan bandits made a wry smile. As Vedek had heard it, she was the second daughter of Engañar. She had a scarred chest and violet eyes.

Odile shook her head. “If only it were that easy. An informant in Sráid’s Keep has assured me that Ghetsis expects such tactics. He is guarded at all times. No, I suggest a strike team be sent ahead of the main army to attack Ghetsis directly in the midst of the siege.”

“The bulk of our forces is just a distraction then.” Chapman Vivar closely examined the maps. “What’s to say that Ghetsis will remain in the Keep? He’s a soldier too. Surely he would be in the vanguard if anywhere.”

Thezzus answered this question. “He is still weak from the poison. I’ve had several apothecaries appraise the poison used at the Feast. While Ghetsis did not receive the same lethal brew others did, what he was given is certain to have a lingering effect. Even if the old soldier wishes it, his advisers won’t let him take the field. I side with Lady Odile, a small force breaking into the Keep could be our best bet for ending the Order.”

There were discussions across the table as to the proposed plan. Tacticians began pouring over the maps of Sráid provided. The first issue discussed was that there was only one side the Keep could be approached from: The main entrance. The Keep’s flanks were protected by the Twinned Hills and the rear was a solid wall of stone brick.

“Send us through the tunnel.” Frost reached over the bandit representative to gesture to the map. He traced the path where the secret tunnel from Odile’s room led to the outside.

“‘Us’?” Dirk lifted his head to question Frost with a smile.

Frost looked up and down the length of the table. “Was the strike team not decided? I assumed my friends and I were included.”

The Generals looked to Thezzus, who in turn looked to Frost’s allies in the room. Vedek massaged his brow. It was his gut feeling that he had just been volunteered for this endeavor.

“Well you won’t do it alone.” Dirk grunted. “I will volunteer as well.”

Onakie spoke for the first time. “I will decide the strike team. It is my force to lead.”

Adjacent to Vedek, Nosib gave a thoughtful grunt. He looked at his daughter with pride.

“Regardless of who is in it, how will they reach that entrance? It would take hours to circumnavigate the city from the main camps.” Chapman drew an arc from the proposed position of their war camps to the secret entrance.

“They will not be in the war camps.” Odile said confidently. “They will be here.”

She tapped the mountain left of the Keep. “Sheltered in the silver mines by citizens loyal to me alone. If we keep the roster of the team low and discreet, then we can smuggle them into the area under cover of night before the battle. Perhaps long before the war camps are even established.”

Another wave of murmurs. Most were coming around to the idea. The bandit representative was eager to enact this crafty plan of attack. The council proceeded with discussion of other topics. Resources necessary, time to assemble, potential other allies.

Vedek dropped further from the main table as the evening dragged on. It was surreal to be present for a council and not give his own input. He had always been allowed a seat at any meeting held in the Electrum Keep, but this felt like watching a play. He lost track of what was being discussed and in a blur the meeting adjourned. Vedek was startled as if from sleep when Thezzus gaveled the table again. The windows showed the light of stars outside.

Perhaps only through coincidence, Vedek found himself exiting the palace alongside Cole, Azeroth, and Frost. The four men paused in a line at the top of the steps leading to the great doors. They drank in the night air and the quiet stillness of Spiral City in the dark.

“Make any good notes?” Vedek asked Cole.

Cole smiled, but he couldn’t give a definitive answer. “I keep flipping through the first page of my journal to now. ‘Today I was almost brought into slavery’ has become ‘Today I attended a council to determine the fate of a war.’ Can’t beat that for an upturn. My classmates back home will never believe me...”

“We are going to be a part of that strike team, right?” Frost asked sheepishly. “We’ve done so much. We have to be recognized. I’d hate to be resigned to a soldier’s position.”

Azeroth groaned. “If it means that much to you Frost, we’ll find a way.”

“So we’re actually going to be at the battle?” Cole asked.

“Does that shock you?” Vedek raised his brow.

Cole’s energy faded “A little. It’s a bit different than attacking a raiders’ outpost, or climbing a necromancer’s tower.”

“How can you write the ending if you’re not there for it?” Vedek offered.

Cole mulled this over until he was in agreement with it. He promised that he would train his atlatl harder than before. As they descended the many stone steps they made idle chatter of each other’s activities since the raid of Underdune. At the bottom of the stairs they found Legion sitting on the last step as if he was expecting them.

“Is it over? I wanted to be there. I want to help.”

“Your fight is done.” Frost said sagely. “Your father is avenged. You must miss home.”

Vedek hadn’t expected such advice from Frost. He always seemed to be the first to suggest a person’s quest for battle is never done.

“I’m not sure my home is worth going back to…” Legion whispered.

He locked his fingers tight enough to turn the hue on his knuckles from grey to white. “Forget I said that. What I mean is: I avenged my dad, but there’s so much more that I can fight for. Jayjay, my horns, Maya…”

He said the last name like he wasn’t certain it belonged.

“Pallet and Fern visited me today. I don’t know how, but the conversation shifted to you four. They said you lot have been present for near every advantage we’ve gained against the Order. If that’s true, as implausible as it sounds, then maybe if I follow you I'll be there for when you bring their end as well. It's the only way I can go back home with peace of mind.”

The four men exchanged looks. It was odd. For the first time Vedek recognized how their small alliance of convenience must seem to outsiders.

Legion waited for a response.

“Five is a lucky number for wechers, right?” Cole nudged Frost.

Frost grinned. “That it is. Legion: Let’s give and take scars in equal measure.”