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The Warlord
Chapter 77: Power Politics

Chapter 77: Power Politics

Even with her armor, my Might attribute was high enough that she weighed almost nothing. My feet began pounding down the tunnel. The bare stone was slowly changing and the natural rock beneath my feet had been replaced by cobblestone a few miles back.

I began to see signs of life. Fluorescent mushrooms, white-leafed plants, and vines grew over the walls and floor. We entered into a massive cavern filled with mushrooms the size of trees and small ones littering the ground like grass.

Anything living here? I asked Voidra.

Yes, but they’re sleeping right now, Voidra said.

Deciding to just let me be, I kept running. The flora continued to grow more varied and abundant the farther we traveled. Strains of blue and purple mushrooms began to mix in with the white variants we’d been seeing. I saw several carnivorous vines devour some rats and kept well clear of them from then on; I’d already had my time fighting plants and wasn’t interested in doing it again.

We stopped around midday, or at least what I thought was midday, for lunch. I brought out some rations for us and we started eating. Eventually, we’d need to start hunting but we had enough rations to last us another month.

“I’ve told you the worst day of my life when was yours?” Guinevere asked me.

Biting down into the jerky in my hand I took my time to answer her as I thought the question over. It was hard to put my finger on the worst day of my life, there had been several days when it felt like my world was ending.

The day my mother had abandoned me to stay with my father was one, but it was so long ago that even the pain of that wound had grown duller.

“I think it was when my first love cheated on me,” I said. “I’d never been so in love and so sure of anyone before, but she found someone more attractive and popular and didn’t even break up with me before she started sleeping with him.”

“Do you ever wonder why she did it?” Guinevere asked.

“Too many times,” I said. “Ultimately, I concluded that she thought that she could fix me and she either didn’t like the result or realized she couldn’t.”

“Do you think you needed fixing?” Guinevere asked.

“Does a volcano need fixing?” I asked. “Or does it merely act in its nature?”

“Either way it’s very destructive,” Guinevere said. “Is that how you see yourself as a volcano?”

“Sometimes,” I said softly. “But mostly I try not to reflect on it at all.” We said nothing for a while longer. “Do you wonder why your mother did it?”

“Every day,” Guinevere said, and she wasn’t able to hold the grief back from her usually stoic voice. “Somedays I blame my father, other days I blame her. She left us and I had to stand up to my father to keep my brother and sister safe.”

“What did he do?” I asked, not sure if I even wanted to know.

“He forged me into the weapon he wanted me to be,” Guinevere said, her voice turning savage. “And I let him, to keep them safe.”

“Was it worth it?” I asked.

“No,” Guinevere admitted sagging. “Now they worship him, they don’t even remember our mother or what father was like.”

Taking out the bottle of whiskey again I passed it to Guinevere, and she took a long swig from the bottle. I took a swig as well and we sat in silence neither feeling the need to break it again. After another ten minutes, we were done eating. We stood up, Guinevere sighed but held out her arms. Picking her up I started running again.

We had to charge through two other hordes of monsters in the span of five hours. We weren’t slowed by the need to fight them this time and kept going. I was able to keep going for the next twelve hours, Guinevere eventually lost her fear of the breakneck pace and fell asleep the way you would on a boring car ride. Eventually, of course, I did get tired.

Stopping to rest we set up a camp in a natural cave that was fifty feet off the ground in one of the massive caverns. Despite how long we’d been running I didn’t think we’d gone that far. Sure, I’d traveled several leagues, but the tunnels doubled back on each other going up and down and I was fairly certain we were still under the Ancient Forest.

We didn’t say much to each other, neither having anything we wanted to talk about right now. We ate our food and leaned against the cave walls and drifted off into a light sleep. We’d only been asleep for around four to six hours, but I felt rejuvenated. We ate a light breakfast and hit the road again.

The trail we were following was growing stronger and stronger. When I first found it, the trail had been like a frayed thread, now it was a thick rope. The air was becoming more humid, and we encountered another underground river that flowed down the tunnel. Even if it hadn’t been faster, I would have had to carry Guinevere here as we ran across the surface.

We arrived at white marble steps. I slowed and set Guinevere down as she opened her eyes and stretched.

“What is it?” she asked looking around.

“I think we’ve arrived,” I said looking up at a massive white tower that rose in the center of this cavern. It rose from the center of this island, the river flowing all around it.

“This is the source of the block?” Guinevere asked looking up at the tower. “It does look like a magi fortress,” she agreed.

“Who were these magi anyway?” I asked. “I get they were some order of people fighting against the gods but why?”

“Who are,” Guinevere corrected. “It’s not widely known but the order still exists, though they are much less powerful now. They operate in cells over the world, but they don’t have the power to threaten any of the major kingdoms.”

“Ok, so they’re terrorists,” I said.

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“What’s a terrorist?” Guinevere asked.

“Someone who uses terror to promote a political or religious idea,” I said. “We got them in my world too.”

“I thought your world didn’t have magic or gods,” Guinevere said.

“Not as far as I know,” I said with a shrug.

“Yes, by your definition the magi are terrorists, their agenda is to create a new system that would allow all people to gain power not just those skilled in battle or born with the gift,” she said.

I let out a snort of derision. “That would never work, the system allows anyone to gain power now, a new system would still have those without power and those with it. The problem is people, not the system.”

“You seem pretty sure of that,” Guinevere said.

“I’ve seen enough of your world and enough of mine to tell you that people behave the same on both,” I said. “it’s the classic principals of Realpolitik.”

“Real politics?” Guinevere asked as the word was translated into her language. “What’s that.”

“It means how people actually behave not how we would want them to,” I said. “When people are in power, they don’t behave on principles of morality or honor they act on the principles of Realpolitik.

Take power, keep power, and deny it to others.”

“That’s a very tyrannical view of the world,” Guinevere pointed out.

“It’s a realistic view,” I retorted. “Doesn’t your family own a bunch of dungeons and regulate who gets to use them?”

“Yes, it’s the main reason for the conflict between my father and uncle,” Guinevere said.

“Right, the reason why you have to marry your cousin when you get back,” I said grinning as I found another excuse to bring that up.

Guinevere gave me a look. “Again?” she asked drily.

“I’ll stop when it stops being funny,” I said.

“This is my life, not a joke,” Guinevere said. “My namesake was the first Queen of Camelot. It is my duty to ensure the security of my people.”

“No, it’s not,” I said. “Maybe for you personally, but if that were the genuine duty of those in power then you wouldn’t need to marry your cousin because your dad and uncle wouldn’t go to war in the first place. Is that really what you want to do?” I asked. “Finish this and just return home, waltz into the palace, and marry your cousin.”

“That’s not how it works,” Guinevere said. “The Queen of Camelot has to be won in the Dragon Tournament. It symbolizes how the first Arthur rescued Guinevere from a dragon.”

“Wow,” I said. “Just when I thought you people couldn’t get more barbaric you start using women as game prizes.”

Guinevere glared at me again. “I’m not a game prize.”

“You sure about that?” I asked.

“The Dragon Tourney is just an opportunity for nobles to show off their skills and win favor from the crown they aren’t there to actually win,” Guinevere explained.

“Great,” I said. “So, you’re a prize in a rigged game. What would happen if someone else did win though?”

“Theoretically,” Guinevere said with a sigh. “I would be required to marry them. That is unlikely though Arthur is the Duelist, beating him in a one-on-one fight is practically impossible. Now can we move on and break this seal?”

“Sure,” I agreed.

We walked up the steps to the tower coming to a pedestal with a plaque and two handprints on it. I ignored it and tried to keep going up the steps but ran face-first into an invisible barrier. It didn’t do any damage, but I couldn’t damage it. It was spongy and just flexed inwards before springing back into shape forcing back my fist giving me only a tingling feeling.

“Some stupid barrier,” I said. I tried teleporting past it but I just disappeared then bounced off the barrier and rolled down the steps.

“There has to be a way in,” Guinevere said. “A barrier without an entrance is unstable and wouldn’t have lasted this long. I think this pedestal might be the lock but I can’t read what it says.”

Walking over to her I looked at the pedestal and read the message written in glyphs.

“To break the seal requires two hands bound by heart, trust, and love.”

“What’s it say?” Guinevere asked.

Turning from the glyphs to her I met her eyes then looked back to the sign.

“It says we’re going to die down here,” I said dryly.

---

Lady Kira had returned to Camelot malnourished and severely wounded and with grave news. Lady Guinevere was dead, killed by the Warlord although she had managed to deal a lethal wound to him before she fell killing him as well. Kira had fled before the Warlords surviving minions could slay her and managed to flee through a portal before it closed. She had returned to her family’s estate wounded in both body and soul from her ordeals.

Arthur sat on the steps of the palace after reading the report given to him describing how she had fallen. He wiped some tears away and composed himself, he was not a stranger to death even if was someone as close to him as Guinevere.

Rising to his feet he composed his features and entered the king’s hall. Going to the council chambers he took his seat at the Round Table next to his father. Both Kay and Lancelot were seated serving as representatives for their fathers. Arthur’s uncle, Merlin sat at the opposite side of the table from the King, the two staring at each other.

“We need access to your dungeons,” King Arthur said.

“And the negotiated agreement for your access is now null,” Merlin said. “My daughter is dead, her betrothal to your son no longer is valid.”

“You have another daughter,” King Arthur said.

“You want me to betroth my only other daughter to your son right after my firstborn’s death?” Merlin asked, his voice rising in anger.

“Don’t give me that pretend anger,” King Arthur said his voice not rising to match his brothers. “What do you want Merlin?”

There was silence in the council room, Kay and Lancelot looking uncomfortable and like they wanted to leave.

“May I speak to you in private father?” Arthur asked.

“Not now,” his father said distractedly.

“Yes now,” Arthur insisted.

King Arthur frowned and turned to his son. “What is it?”

“I’d prefer to speak to you in private first,” Arthur said.

Sighing, the king pushed back his chair and he and Arthur left into an adjoining chamber. King Arthur turned and looked at his son.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I don’t want to marry Dindraine,” Arthur said.

“Our wants don’t matter here,” King Arthur said dismissively. “You need to do what is best for the kingdom.”

“I love Lady Lionor,” Arthur said.

“These are childish feelings,” his father said. “They will pass with time.”

“She is pregnant with my child,” Arthur said staring his father in the eyes.

King Arthur sighed and sat back. “That makes it more complicated, but bastards are not unheard of, we’ll send her out of sight for the pregnancy then…”

“No,” Arthur interjected. “I’m not going to treat her like that.”

“Son, you have to do what is best for the kingdom…” King Arthur began.

“Is it what’s best for the Kingdom or what’s best for you?” Arthur challenged. “Was it best for the kingdom when I slaughtered men in Dracon, or did it just grow our power?”

“Son…” King Arthur began looking confused.

“I am the Champion of Viviane the goddess of Duelists and Honor, there is no honor in abandoning the mother of my child,” Arthur said.

“There is also no honor in breaking your vows to your betrothed and siring a bastard out of wedlock,” the king snapped back.

“I’ve made many mistakes,” Arthur said. “But I’m trying to stop making them now.”

“Then don’t,” King Arthur said stepping forward and poking his finger into his son’s chest. “Do you know what will happen if we can’t get access to those dungeons?”

“Nothing,” Arthur retorted.

“Wrong!” King Arthur said slapping Arthur across the face and startling him. “My brother cares nothing for the welfare of this kingdom, only his own personal power. Do you want to know why we went to war with Dracon? It was to create a buffer zone between us and the other powers.”

Arthur rubbed his cheek where the slap had struck him. “So, all that talk about the tyranny of the Dracon nobility was just a lie.”

“When you’re King you don’t always get to do the right thing,” the King said. “Sometimes you have to do what is necessary. Already barbarians have poured out of those woods and attacked border towns in both the lands that we had before and after the war.”

“When did this happen?” Arthur asked.

“I received a report this morning,” King Arthur said. “A town next to the Cursed Forest was overrun by a band of humans, goblins, and myrmidon a few days ago.”

King Arthur took his son’s face in both hands and stared into his eyes. “We need those dungeons to train and equip our knights. So, you will do your duty as a prince and marry whomever you have to.”

Arthur sagged in defeat. “Yes, father.”