12.4
After the meal the welcome feast transitioned smoothly to the more public declarations and requests for the High King.
First had been Æthelred who was amusingly there to request a defensive pact on the part of the Realm of Cantor Reborn to uphold his rightful rule in such a case as his cousins from the Northlands pressed a claim upon his realm within some kingdom within the vault of the Tin Hills.
Mathias had not outright refused him, promising instead to settle the specifics of their business by no later than four nights hence.
After that had been internal matters from the High King’s Direct vassals, both those of a comparable station as Jewel and lower titles which Mathias had direct responsibility for regarding his local titles.
It seemed most of those matters were settled officially in the open. Either by pre-arrangement or easily settled precedent.
The reminder that a lord or lady had multiple responsibilities left a twinge in Jewel for how little she had been able to dedicate to the concerns of Valasect while Kaeketeh and Viznove consumed her attention.
But the last of the immediately public matters drew not just Jewel’s attention but a rapt consideration from Paul,Thurzó and quite a number of other guests at the table.
The man who wore finery hardly different from Paul stood in the open space of the feasting tables. Kneeling low to High King Mathias. Far in excess of the honor given merely by a guest to their host.
That was the supplication of a subject!
“Good Lord Vladimer, what brings an esteemed and exiled prince to the Realm of Cantor Reborn?”
The man straightened up from his supplication with not even a tremor of strain or lack of grace. His wide eyes and sharp narrow mustache and beard framing shoulder length locks. There was an intensity to his eyes that made Jewel think perhaps his eyes did not quite fit in his sockets.
“High King Mathias, The Magarska Kingdom holds my homeland in thrall and my people cry out under their deprivations. My brothers have been held hostage to ensure that my father obeys them. I come to you to ask for support in raising arms to retake my homeland and free my family from the tyranny of your rivals.”
Jewel did not outwardly show her surprise. Well not with her larger face or posture. Gem gasped audibly and widened her eyes.
If Mathias agreed to this it would be a provocation towards war with Magarska for sure.
“Lord Vladimer, Prince of the Vlach Lands. I cannot promise the arms or armies of my Realm to your cause.”
Jewel saw no outward sign, but the scent of this prince Vladimer suddenly stank of despair. The burst of it was enough to itch in her nostrils. Gem smothered her snout with a dinner cloth to muffle the sneeze. Her larger self had to settle for carefully cycling wyrmflame up into her nostrils and back down.
Before he could begin to bow and bring the matter to a close the High King spoke up.
“However, I am moved by your entreaty. And there is an opportunity that The Realm of Cantor Reborn can offer you and a few of your chosen warriors personal power.”
Jewel could only just stop either of her necks from snapping around to look at the High King. The look on his face and the tone in his voice is far too familiar.
The prince however looked dubious.
“To reclaim the Vlach I will need force to slay an army. That is no trifle, not even for your esteemed war wizards and their magic. What power could you possibly offer?”
Jewel felt a cold premonition.
“A Sufficient one for that, but its nature is one best discussed behind closed doors. It however will not come without a cost Prince of the Vlach Lands.”
Prince Vladimer fixed his slightly bulging eyes on The High King. Then uttered with a conviction that further chilled Jewel’s flame.
“I will pay any price to save my people.”
And with that Mathias dismissed the man and the feast.
She kept staring at him as the rest of the guests cleared from the room. The plates were cleared and the musicians dismissed.
Some of the other vassals tried to remain but a firm glare from their liege sent them off.
Eventually it was only Jewel (and Gem), Thurzó, Paul and Mathias himself.
Even the guards and queen were dismissed.
Jewel held her tongue as the cavernous feasting hall was made empty of all but them. She appreciated the trust it showed towards her by the High King.
It spoke of a respect she was honestly not entirely certain she shared.
“Forgive my impropriety to you King Mathias, but I’d request to speak plainly with you?”
Jewel could feel how her voice was straining to deepen into a bone rattling growl. But she held her anger tight. She kept her flame stored and coiled up tight deep in her chest. Not even a hint of it loose enough to slip into her words.
She kept her mind firmly off any strangely compelling options that might be offered up.
She would not be performing another working by accident here.
High King Mathias of House Stein, her yet to be acknowledged and acknowledging liege, coveter of monsters and apparently keeper of a menagerie of intelligent warbeasts met her gaze with smiling calm.
His eyes ran over her in a way Jewel had never actually felt before.
It made her skin want to shiver.
Finally he spoke after a deep sigh.
“Please Lady Jewel, Countess and Shining Wyrm of Viznove, speak your mind. Although I suspect I already know what you wish to say, please let the air be open and clear between us.”
Jewel knew her scales did tremble now, she knew that she could unleash terrible sorcery or unfathomable doom upon this mere man. She knew that she could very likely do something even worse although what it might be she was unsure.
But the ruin that had nearly been made of Kaeketeh when she thought to enact justice burned in her memory.
She would not make the same mistake again.
But she could not keep her voice coming out more like the hiss of a bird then human speech.
“Did you just imply you would give those vile things that my predecessor made as a weapon of war for the Prince Vladimer’s campaign?”
Mathias smiled openly to her, she could smell the satisfaction coming off of him.
Her friend Thurzó however smelled worried.
The High King dipped his head to her, not a nod of acknowledgment but a proper dip of ascent to her as if she held a higher station then he!
“Of course not, oh Shining Wyrm of Viznove. It has been confirmed that such things as the late Countess Bathory’s ritual created are just as vile and disloyal as warned. Bereft of any mortal fetters or decency. Unguidable and uncontrollable. As terrible a thing as she warned of.”
Jewel felt relief rising up to overwhelm her.
He had not a speck of guile or dishonesty to his scent, his voice was even and sure. The words rang true.
Tension released her wings and neck from the posture they had taken.
The sting of barely restrained wyrmflame settling so completely it almost caused her to collapse onto the table.
Fortunately for the woodwork she could just about keep herself upright.
“This concern speaks well of you Countess, and it is in fact the reason that I insisted you attend to me here in the capital so soon. I have need of the insight and talents only you possess.”
Jewel drew herself back to focusing on the High King, in the slight fog of her sudden relaxation the details itched in how neither Paul or Thurzó were smelling any more relaxed. It put a new tension in her spine, tugging her neck slightly back again into a slowly coiling stack of curves.
She was puzzled over what his words could mean.
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“We have not even finished finalizing what my vassal contract with The Realm of Cantor Reborn will be, High King. Calling on my service so soon is improper.”
Mathias shook his head, Thurzó still was smelling worried. It made Jewel even more on edge, like some kind of presence was lurking beyond her senses. Wait, what was that smell? No, not a smell, a feeling in another sense.
Gem did not taste or sense it at all.
“I swear upon my Crown, Throne and Kingdom that this service will grant you a boon from me. If necessary I will offer an honorable release from my rule over you as my vassal and ratify Viznove as a sworn ally of my bloodline and the Realm of Cantor Reborn if that is the price you want for this task.”
Jewel stared.
Paul’s jaw hung open.
Thurzó was not surprised but his fear had not yet abated.
Jewel finally found her voice, although it was so strained and tight it almost sounded appropriate for Gem’s throat.
“I, What? High King Mathias! Are you certain?!”
He nodded solemnly.
“Perform this service, offer your insight and counsel on but this one matter, answer for me a single question and it will be worth it. The security of my realm hangs upon your answer in this. So such a boon is more than worth it.”
Jewel stared now with all four of her eyes.
Not just a service but something as trifling as a single question answered?!
“Just an answer? To a single question?”
The High King Mathias nodded, speaking softly.
“Your honest and true answer to a single question.”
Jewel stared at the man who ruled all the Realm of Cantor Reborn. Who lived in a palace that she was fairly certain was larger than all her own direct holdings of herself and her family.
Rochford Castle, Kaeketeh Keep, Valasect’s Manor-House. Maybe even all the land of Valasect itself?
All of them could likely fit in just the land covered by his palace!
Nevermind his vast multilayered city and all the fields in the Valley of Man.
An Entire Skyvault and vassals beyond.
And he would offer her a boon for an honest answer to a single question.
“Your boon is offered regardless of my answer?”
He nodded and Jewel felt somehow like she was falling. Even though she was entirely secure on solid ancient stone. Centuries since shaped beneath a shallow and comparatively youthful tiling of white and black marble.
“Very well I accept this service. What is the question.”
In answer Mathias gestured, he stank of anticipation, and finally some anxiety. Thurzó still was reeking of a quiet fear.
The doors to the feasting hall opened, no servant present.
And standing there was a vaguely familiar figure.
She was dressed in finery as the other staff in the palace had been.
But as she walked into the room the strange scent that was not a scent tickled at Jewel’s nose. Something she had never tasted in the faux flame or the nature of the world before.
It had the etching marks of a god’s touch to it. Sharp and harsh. Lashing through the woman from every side. Like a thousand knives had struck through her flesh clean.
Every arcing swipe passed through her heart.
She walked before them and then dipped into a low kneel before them.
“Jewel, Shining Wyrm and Countess of Viznove, Inheritor from the Bloody Countess Bathory. I present to you the product of long years of effort to refine and repair the calamity of your predecessor and her heaven profaned traitor of a wizard Jaksa the Red.”
Jewel was over the table and between Paul and Gem as soon as the words fully settled before her. The light of her wyrmflame flickering and casting sharp shadows as it flashed on her tongue. Ready to be unleashed upon the sucking empty thing.
But even knowing what it was, even realizing where the subtly familiar scent had come from the thing that looked like a serving woman kneeling before her failed to inspire the full horror.
She dared not take her eyes off of it, she dared not speak for fear leaving her flame smothered even a moment by her lips would give the thing an opportunity to leap and slay her husband or daughter.
But no action was taken, it did not suck air. The chest moved as if breathing. The heart beat as one should instead of trying to scrape every drop of blood into itself ravenously.
Yet with every motion the shearing lines of a divine working sliced anew through it.
With every heartbeat scarcely a scrap of flesh was untouched.
The High King Mathias spoke with a breathless excitement in his voice.
“Tell me oh Wyrm, who can taste and know the world better than even the greatest Weird of sorcery. Tell me one thing.”
Jewel did not see even a hint of a struggle from the thing below her. Not a hint of restraints or tension. She finally could confirm it was indeed subtly leaving the air that passed its lips weakened ever so slightly by its even and calm breathing.
But nothing like the sucking void she had seen before.
“Tell me if my sorcerers and the intercession by the goddess Asherah have done what that fiend of a woman could not.”
He leaned closer, smiling hungrily.
“Tell me, is it safe? Is it tame? Is it loyal? Have we forged something anathema into an acceptable blade for the realm?”
Jewel stared at the thing, at the spiraled and flensing web of divine touches that lashed in and out of every single fiber of the body before her.
She stared at the black pit within its heart that tugged at those shearing touches.
The complexity of the working was more than anything she had ever witnessed. Dozens if not hundreds of times more than the touch that came from the ritual of the longest winter in Rochford.
Its head was turned down to face the stone. It breathed slowly but there were no trembles of pain or discomfort in those muscles despite the tight posture held. It barely moved but for that slow breathing, the calm even heartbeat.
Jewel commanded.
“Look at me.”
And it turned up to face her, the lips were relaxed, the face almost slack. Almost vacant. The eyes peering up at her.
There was not a single emotion and no scent of any feeling to the thing.
It was beyond dead.
It was absent.
And those eyes met Jewel’s
The blacks of them shone faintly in the candlelight. There was just the slightest twist of their red irises pulsing. Constricting, squeezing and relaxing. Trying to drink in the light actively and ravenously.
But it was constrained.
The only betraying motion in the otherwise placid face.
Jewel stated the truth, the obvious undeniable fact of the thing.
“You still hunger.”
The thing that was perhaps once a woman’s flesh did not smile, she did not frown, she simply spoke. No fear, no concern.
“Always.”
Jewel tried to listen to the world, reason on just what the god working on her flesh could do, but she could only know so much. The world around the thing was weakened.
But it was not as violent and abhorrent a presence as she had felt before.
“You will feed.”
The god’s working shifted, it tightened and splayed in and out. Not a single muscle moved in the thing before her. Not even the eyes shifted. Every motion forestalled by whatever divine working was in place.
It spoke with just a hint of breathy strain, a touch of genuine pain in tone if not scent.
“O-only upon t-the blood of the deserving.”
Jewel leaned closer, staring into the half dead face, at the strange writhing pulse of its blood. At the red eyes that could not help but try to swallow the light. The only hint of the ravenous pit that was tied and cut through in its chest.
“Why?”
Suddenly the face lit up, a smile filling it, the eyes dilated so wide Jewel almost felt like the shine within was that of the stars above.
“Because I vowed to Asherah, I swore my soul to her keeping.”
The words came free from the thing and in them was a voice that was true. Not just true but living, breathing, momentarily alive.
Free of the sucking empty thing that used it.
By her grace is my hunger chained.
By her love may I rule my corpse.
By her wrath shall this traitor flesh burn.
For it is by her will alone that It now lives.
So should It fail under her judgment,
My hunger be undone and my spirit freed.
And then with a fading whisper of that living voice one last sentence was uttered.
“To save my poor son.”
Jewel stared at the thing.
At the more than dead lips who had briefly spoken with a breath alive and real and vibrant.
She could taste the living breath lingering with the words.
But with every even breath it took after that life faded again.
The High King Mathias of House Stein asked again, voice eager, excited, anticipating.
“Well oh Shining Wyrm? Is it sufficient? Can you approve of this creature?”
Jewel stared at the thing, her thoughts in disarray.
The weight of all the heavens felt like it was settling upon her wings.
She wanted to say it was not enough.
But the voice of a living woman had passed those lips with a vow that shook as true in the world and Jewel’s own flame.
A vow by a woman, Not the hungering thing.
Instead of answering Jewel said the only thing she could.
“How did you do this?!”