Indenuel stood next to Dalius in the line that made up the welcome party. Tolomon was right behind him, his hands behind his back, looking downward. None of the other High Elders fiddled with their ceremonial robes, so he tried not to play with his white jacket, either. He was quite sure he had on three layers of shirts to hide the pink mark still on his chest.
A grand carriage approached, and Indenuel tried to stand up straighter, feeling like he was going to be sick. At least he hadn’t eaten anything yet.
The carriage pulled to a stop and Martin walked out first, followed by a Kiamese man Indenuel could only assume was the Empress’ trusted bodyguard. The man held out his hand and helped the Empress down from the carriage. Martin had apparently been with her the moment she arrived, showing her around the city and making sure she felt at home. Indenuel trusted no one but Martin in this endeavor. Even now as Martin walked beside her, he talked to her as though they were old friends as they approached King Ramiro and Queen Lisabeth. Granted, it was stalled as the bodyguard translated for her. The man seemed to be both bodyguard and translator.
Indenuel took this time to study the empress. The dress she wore was like nothing he had ever seen. It definitely had a culture all its own, with sashes and jewels on it. The dress seemed so foreign, yet a beautiful deep red color. If he had to put an age to the woman, he might have guessed at least fifty years old. There was grey sprinkled through her black hair. Half of it was pulled up in a fancy bejeweled pin. He was captivated by her grey eyes, simply because he had never seen grey eyes on a woman before. He had only seen grey eyes express anger, hurt, or fear, but now she was expressing a calculation, taking everything in with a guarded air.
She greeted the King and Queen, the translator telling her what Martin said through way of introduction. She bowed to them in the Kiam manner. She placed her hands in front of her as she bowed, one hand in a fist, the other hand over the fist. She did the same with Navir, then with Fadrique, and Dalius. Each of them bowing in return.
“And this is Indenuel the Warrior,” Martin said. “This is the man you will negotiate with tomorrow morning.”
The Empress studied his face as the translator told her what Martin said. The Empress again placed her hands in front of her, as she bowed. Indenuel bowed in return, trying to match the placement of his hands, praying he didn’t offend her. The Empress said something in Kiamese, and Indenuel glanced at the translator before looking back at the Empress.
“The Grand Empress of Kiam remarks that you look so young for such a noble calling among your people,” the translator said.
“It’s because the High Elders look so incredibly old that makes me look as young as I do, for God has given me twenty years,” Indenuel said.
Martin snorted, covering his mouth as the translator repeated this in Kiam. Navir pursed his lips, but he was smiling. Fadrique seemed to do everything in his power not to glare as Dalius smiled and looked at his feet.
The translator finished telling the Empress, and she gave a soft smile before saying something to Indenuel in Kiam. Indenuel was grateful for his time with the Oraminians to practice what it was like to be with someone who spoke a different language.
“The Grand Empress sympathizes with the High Elders, considering she is over eighty herself. She still sees you as a young boy.”
“Over eighty? You don’t even look fifty! You must have the secret to eternal youth in your country. I wouldn’t share that secret with the rest of the world either if I could help it.” Dalius’ smile dropped. Fadrique winced. Indenuel felt his heart stop as Navir gave him a soft glare. “I mean… I didn’t…”
The translator finished translating, a smile on his face. The Empress then began to laugh. Indenuel forced himself to breathe easily. He hadn’t made a total ass of himself, just a partial one. The Empress said something again, the smile still lingering on her face.
“You are the perfect negotiation partner, and she looks forward to tomorrow morning,” the translator said.
Indenuel didn’t want to say anything else, so instead he just smiled. The Empress laughed again as King Ramiro walked forward, offering to show her to the banquet hall. Fadrique gave Indenuel a good glare before falling behind Navir to enter the banquet hall.
“Was that a diplomatic way of telling me she’s going to dominate the negotiations?” Indenuel asked as Martin approached.
“She doesn’t see you as a threat,” Martin said.
“That’s bad, right?” Indenuel asked, watching as the Empress disappeared into the banquet hall.
“As with everything, it depends on how you use it,” Martin said.
“She speaks Santollian,” Tolomon whispered next to Indenuel. “She struggled to hide a smile when you said what you did and hid it by turning to look at the translator, even though she never acknowledged him like that before.”
“Oh, interesting. You can use that to your advantage tomorrow morning.”
“Why would she do that?” Indenuel asked.
“It’s always important to not reveal everything you know right from the start. And pretending you don’t know a language you do is perfect for gathering information,” Martin said.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
He walked off to join the rest of the High Elders as they made their way into the banquet hall.
Indenuel could not shake the feeling of nausea. It was a miracle he made it through dinner, considering how small of an appetite he had.
***
Martin did not stop smiling until he was in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling as he worked on his muscles to ease the smile off his face. The stresses of the day were done, and he could not close his eyes. He had spent all day smiling and laughing, dancing around topics and doing his best to deal with the harder topics he couldn’t turn from. The Empress treated everyone else with the grace and dignity he would expect from a foreign dignitary, but there was some sort of gleam in her eye when she talked with or even noticed Indenuel. Martin wasn’t sure how these negotiations would go, but he had a feeling this was a mental battle that Indenuel was vastly unqualified to have.
He remembered the first political chat he had with the boy, how Indenuel simply wanted them to leave Kiam alone. Not form a negotiation. Martin rubbed his head with his palms. Hopefully he had changed Indenuel’s mind on all that. This war had been far too expensive to just leave them alone. They needed something from Kiam.
The door opened, and Martin dropped his hands, looking over to see Sara walking in, her bed robe wrapped around herself. Martin sat up, resting on his elbows. “Hello, Sara.”
“Forgive the intrusion. I just…” Sara hesitated, almost embarrassed. “I just know how you are the night before a negotiation, and I was worried about you. And your nerves. Do you need any calming tea?”
Martin smiled at this woman who knew him better than anyone else. “No. No tea.”
Sara nodded, then took off her bed robe and climbed in bed with him. Martin helped her into bed, and she rested her head against his shoulder. Martin hugged her, placing his cheek against her hair.
“Whatever deity is up there, please grant us mercy,” Martin said, finally closing his eyes. “Grant all of us mercy. Both Santollia and Kiam.”
***
Indenuel was fighting Captain Luiz. There wasn’t anything odd about it. He went through the motions, blocking attack after attack. Captain Luiz was smiling the entire time, looking so carefree and full of life despite never looking so happy before when Indenuel fought him.
Captain Luiz nicked Indenuel’s shoulder, and in a blind rage that came on far too quickly, Indenuel filled the man with corrupted ooze, watching as the blood came out his eyes, nose, and ears. Captain Luiz cried out in pain before collapsing to the ground, dead. Indenuel gasped, backing away. Captain Luiz was dead. In real life, he was dead. But Indenuel didn’t kill him. He couldn’t have.
“You might as well have,” Garen said next to him. “You’re the one that went after Inessa. You’re the one that decided to get marked. And now you’re in charge of negotiations. You are going to fail.”
Indenuel gasped, trying to sit up, but the chains around him were a reminder of where he was.
“You’re alright,” Tolomon said, a hand on his shoulder. “You’re in the dungeon. You’re alright.” Indenuel started to cry, the mask still on. Captain Luiz was dead. Was his wife alright? His children? His brother?
Tolomon unlocked the mask, easing the metal plate out of his mouth. “Tell me something only awake Indenuel would know.”
Indenuel felt the tears streaming down his face as he tried to look around for something. “The cell somehow still smells of vomit,” he whispered.
Tolomon chuckled. “Dalius has requested a full night’s sleep, so he won’t be coming.”
Indenuel nodded as Tolomon was about to put the mask back on but hesitated. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Indenuel looked at Tolomon, hating that he couldn’t wipe his tears away. “Captain Luiz is dead.” He stared at the mask in Tolomon’s hands. “I killed him. In my dream.”
“Not in real life, though,” Tolomon said.
Indenuel didn’t know why that hurt so much. It was another reminder that his friend was dead. “Was there a funeral for him?” His voice wavered. “Did I miss it?”
Tolomon lowered the mask, looking at Indenuel. “You did, yes.”
Indenuel nodded, the tears continuing to run down his cheeks. “And is family? His wife? His ch-” He closed his eyes, the tears continuing to fall. There were countless fatherless families now in Santollia. Just as there were in Kiam. A staggering number of those families in Kiam were his fault.
Tolomon unlocked the chains keeping him to the table. He helped him stand before letting Indenuel lean on him as he unlocked the chains around his arms. Indenuel cried, feeling the full brunt of grief ram him in the chest. Once the chains were gone, Tolomon hugged him tight.
“Cry for the dead, Indenuel,” Tolomon said. “It’s better to cry in grief than in rage.”
Indenuel covered his face, feeling light-headed as he cried. There weren’t enough tears in the world to make him feel better. Captain Luiz was dead. So many countless Santollians were dead. He couldn’t have this war continue. He couldn’t mess up these negotiations. He already had enough blood on his hands.
“In one of my battles, I murdered the man that killed him,” Indenuel said through his hands. “The demon’s showed me how he died, and I plunged a dagger through the man’s throat.” Tolomon said nothing, simply hugged him. “I was so angry. I hate them so much. And I know they hate me too. I can’t do it. I can’t negotiate. I can’t sit down across from the Empress and pretend I didn’t almost sell my soul to the devil to stop her army.”
Tolomon continued to hold him. “Take it a moment at a time. War is ugly for this reason. If it wasn’t, we’d be in a perpetual state of war since the beginning of time.”
Indenuel continued to cover his face, not wanting anyone, including Tolomon, to see the pain that was written there. “I never wanted to be the Warrior.”
“I know,” Tolomon said. “It is a mantle no one would willingly put on themselves.” Tolomon broke away and Indenuel still kept his face covered. Tolomon took his arm, and Indenuel let him. Tolomon closed his eyes, healing the wounds on his arms from where the chains dug into him. It was slow, but Indenuel let him. He then touched the corners of Indenuel’s mouth where the metal plate always cut into it. “It has been one of my greatest honors to be your bodyguard and your friend.” Indenuel nodded, tears running down his cheeks again as he wiped them off. “Everyone is going to stumble when the weight of the world is on their shoulders. It shouldn’t have been there in the first place, but you’re not alone. You do not have to be perfect at these negotiations.”
Indenuel nodded again. He took a deep breath, then let it out. Captain Luiz had died protecting his country. Thousands of others had too. This war had exhausted his soul, and he needed it to end. “Captain Luiz is resting with the good spirits, right?” Indenuel asked.
“Yes,” Tolomon said. “He’s resting. He might sleep for two years after all the times I’ve knocked the poor man out.”
Indenuel couldn’t help it and laughed before feeling guilty about it. “You did knock him out a lot.”
Tolomon smiled before it faltered. He looked away. “I’ll have to ask forgiveness from him for that.”
Indenuel smiled. “I doubt he’s the one to hold a grudge. He is, after all, resting with the good spirits.”
Tolomon looked down and blinking rapidly before patting Indenuel’s shoulder. “I’ll ask the guard where the lonely son is.” Tolomon turned, walking toward the door, and Indenuel wondered who comforted the Graduates.