Thrake Unabi had been many things in his long life. He’d been a street urchin, a thief, an apprentice, a warrior, a warden, a warlord, a father, and a King. He had spent years building Osan into what it is, working closely with the Four even while refusing time and time again to be formally enthroned as the King of the Azar. The stories of the heroic cycle had warned him what would happen if he made a move too early. Patience, patience was his greatest weapon. Without patience he would have never made it this far. Now Osan was a bustling city of thousands with trade coming from the elves to the north and-hopefully soon-the orcs to the south.
He leaned over his desk as the sunlight shone through the window into his humble office. It wasn’t the gaudy office where he greeted officials or held meetings. No, this was a place of privacy, quiet, and reflection. Barely more than a closet, the room held a single wooden desk and chair with shelves on either side containing books filled with notes. There was only one door leading into the chamber and it was accessible only through his private quarters. That lead to a very small list of people who had any way of accessing it. Once you narrowed it down from there, there were even fewer people who knew what the room was for and when he spent his time there.
All that information made it pretty easy to figure out who was knocking on the door to the small room as he finished going over the last few pages of a report he’d been given by Yaga’s wardens. “I’m not entertaining any more marriage candidates, Tiisha!” He shouted.
The door opened and the voluptuous Azar stepped inside, drawing her hair back over her ear. She gave him an easy smile as he turned around to face her. As always, she was beautiful, a woman he had pursued for years. Her role as the leader of the Northern Azar had put her just outside his grasp, though. They could never be formally married, lest the entire Azar race see him as favoring one clan over the other. Even so, their affair had been going on for some time and they had not made very much effort to hide their affections for one another. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, looking him in the eyes. “You’re safe, Thrake, no visitors today.”
“Praise the aspects,” The King said, rubbing his forehead. For the past several weeks there had been one after another, sent by influential Azar, nobles in the Elven lands, and even some humans from the settlements west of the Balthin sea. He had no interest, though, even though his advisors insisted that he marry and produce an heir he was far more concerned with other matters. He leaned back a bit, resting his shoulders against his desk and crossed his arms. “A little early for a rendezvous then,” he added, “What brings you?”
She chuckled, “I wish it was a rendezvous,” She said, sighing, “I have news from my contacts in the merchant caravans.”
Thrake frowned, “What news?”
“The Katali Count, Otel, has begun campaigning to send a vanguard to investigate the ‘warlord in Osan’ and is hiring mercenaries. Apparently, it’s already reached the ears of their king,” Tiisha said, “This doesn’t look good, love.”
“Without a hero to rally behind the other human Kingdoms won’t support this,” Thrake said and rubbed his chin, “But are we even ready to deal with one army from Katal?”
Tiisha shook her head, “Otel is just the impetus, darling, my bigger concern is the nobles in the other countries, including Katal.”
He looked up, frowning, “What do you mean?”
“Our trade with the Elves and other settlements has become far more noticeable, we’re going to start inching in on their profits soon and there’s no real way to slow it down. Osan is growing and given its position, once we start trading with the Orcs the city will become a commercial hub,” She explained, “That’s wealth taken from the easterners.”
Thrake turned to the window and peered out into the vast fields beyond it, “You think they may decide to raise an army anyway, because of trade?”
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
“I’m afraid so. No matter how much we try to be cautious about our growth, growth will happen and they will notice,” Tiisha said and let out a sigh, “We need to prepare for that possibility.”
“Of war?” He chuckled, “I’m sure Argus is happy.”
“He doesn’t want to see his people die either, Thrake,” She scolded him, “The man is all bluster.”
“I certainly hope not, if war does come to us. Do you have a timetable?” He asked, turning to his notebook and flipping it open to write down a few notes. Tiisha walked over and placed her arms around his shoulders, wrapping herself around his neck and pressing her face against his.
“Nine months, maybe ten, they need time to rally and prepare. Then they will wait through winter,” Tiisha said, “Spring at the earliest.”
Thrake let out a breath and reached up to run his fingers across her arm, he leaned into her, sighing, “We can have our own army ready by then, but we need to do something about civilians. The Akurai as well, this isn’t their fight.”
Tiisha pulled away, “Your daughters are not weaklings,” She snapped, “They have every right to defend their home as you do.”
Thrake sighed, “No, I don’t want them caught up in this. If the worst happens I want someone left behind who can take care of the Azar,” He turned to her, his eyes firm, “We cannot risk having them here with us.”
“So you will send them away? Good luck convincing either of them to leave just like that. They will know something’s up,” Tiisha pointed out.
“A diplomatic mission to the Elves,” The King said, “Safely beyond your territory in the north.”
Tiisha crossed her arms and considered it quietly, she looked up at the window and then back at him. “Shrewd, my clan and the elves have had good relations for a long time. They would be willing to escort their party that far, perhaps even help the Akurai find a place to settle for the time being.”
“If we can dislodge them from the library,” The king pointed out.
Tiisha sighed and slipped into his lap, wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on his shoulder. “Let's get the four together and come up with a plan, love, we don’t need to think up everything on the spot.”
The king reached up and stroked her hair, savoring the flowery scent. He pulled her a bit closer and gave her a gentle squeeze. She was right, of course, there was no point in trying to work out all the details at a moment’s notice. They had time to prepare and foreknowledge of a possible attack didn’t exactly mean that an attack was coming. He had to entertain the possibility that the Katali wouldn’t be able to rally enough forces to cause any real harm. Still, that meant fighting and the chance of death on either side. His stomach churned at the thought. Seeking a distraction he turned his head toward her, taking her chin in his hand.
She leaned back and looked him over, smiling at his touch. Tiisha had been at his side from the very beginning. From the days on the street when the two of them had been abandoned by a northern clan caravan at the doorstep of Osan. They had survived by wit and guile alone and grown close. When the other members of the four had entered their lives, Tiisha had always kept a special place in his heart. Even though Azrael saw Yaga as her mother figure, Tiisha had been at his side during the girl's earliest years, watching over her and teaching her to read and write. This woman here, he adored her.
There was a sudden pop behind them followed by the door swinging open with a bang. The two of them, so close to a moment of intimacy, nearly jumped a foot in the air and turned in time to see the frazzled face of Barin Kot standing framed by the doorway. His smile stretched from ear to ear as he held up a small box to present to the king. “Majesty! I did it! I fixed the mask-” He froze, blinking a few times as he looked between the two lovers before his eyes settled on Tiisha. A bead of sweat formed on his temple and he took a step back, “Oh,” he mumbled, “Oh I am so sorry, I’ll uh… I’ll see myself out.”
The King sighed and turned to look at Tiisha only to freeze a little as he spotted the vein pulsing in her neck. He swallowed as a cold lump formed in his stomach and Tiisha got up out of his lap.
“Barin!” She roared and chased him out the door.
“Please don’t kill my best mage!” Thrake called out after her. He chuckled and sighed, turning his head to the window and squinting at the setting sun.
“It would seem the cycle wishes to play out whether we want it to or not.”
----------------------------------------
Volume 2 of the Mother of Monsters, END
To be continued in Volume 3!