Averan was glad to be outside on the streets again. He felt comfortable here, at ease. The streets of Gorias had been his home for as long as he could remember. He, his brother and mother constantly roaming from one safehouse to the next. Always running.
Averan had hated it then and hated it now. Better to stand and die a hero then flee and live a coward. They had spent their entire life being chased by shadows. By the end neither he nor Sandorn were even entirely sure they were being pursued. Their Mother so intrinsically focused on being hunted that reality had begun to lose meaning. She had been a wreck at the end, her nerves shot and memory faded. Averan and Sandorn had vowed to avenge her as she lay on her deathbed, her and their Father, and all the others of their line who had been so ruthlessly hounded out by the very people which owed them everything.
“Lord Averan.”
Fenador looked up at Averan with a confused look, “We are almost upon Clan Daroch’s Home. You ehh, wanted to lead here personally.”
Averan shook himself from his thought, “Yes, yes. I’ll lead this time.”
Things had been smooth so far, Averan had spent all morning accompanying Fenador and the others, keeping a low profile he had watched on as one by one the Clan Leaders offered up their fealty. The Amata had ruled for so long that most hardly said a word in defiance. They know their place and are happy to maintain it.
It made for an easy transition, but Averan would have liked a bit more fire in the clans if they were to be of any use to him and his brother. Still he shouldn’t complain. Things would be difficult enough for them sooner rather than later. It was best not to invoke trouble.
Clan Daroch were one of the oldest of the Outer Ring’s factions, a long lived and proud family they were the only ones who had ever defied the Amata in his rise to power. It was a testament to the old Kingpin’s skills as a ruler that Clan Daroch had grown to be one of his staunchest allies during his three decades in charge. Averan knew he would have to be firm with them, and their prickly Head, Ru Daroch.
“Do you wish me to speak first Averan? To lead you into the conversation I mean.”
Averan shook his head and bounded up the path leading to the Daroch’s tower.
“Nah, I got this one Fenador, let me talk and you just look menacing. Cover me if I require it.”
“Very well then, I’ll make a good go of it.”
The old tower was still a fine looking building, if a little dilapidated now after so many years of use. It was alleged to have been one of the earliest watchtowers of the city, built during the time of the very first King of Gorias, king Anaval. That was over 800 years ago. Somehow the Darochs had come into possession of it, and done well to hold it. Now far within the city’s boundaries it remained a source of pride for the clan. Five guards met them before the Gates of the Tower. One, a little rounder and self important looking stepped to Averan.
“State your name and purpo-”
Averan gave the man a firm shoulder and barrelled past him stopping only at the door. The guards, shocked by the rough dismissal of their Captain looked on at him in bewilderment.
Averan continued to look straight ahead to the closed door.
He banged hard on the door three times.
“LORD AVERAN, THE MAN WHO DEFEATED THE AMATA AND TOOK ALL THAT WAS HIS BY RIGHT OF SWORD AND ARM. NEW LORD OF THE UNDERGROUND AND RIGHTFUL RULER OF ALL FIVE CLANS AND EIGHT QUARTERS. OPEN.”
Averan heard a sigh behind him, Fenador. He’d made that sound often enough during their years together.
The Daroch captain came up beside Averan, puffed up and red faced. He was tall but Averan still held an inch on him.
“Listen Boy if you think you can-”
Averan pulled back his cloak to reveal his full set of Arronian armor, brushing a hand across his axe handle in the process. He lowered his hood and glanced at the man, his own golden eyes meeting the Captain’s brown.
“Open.” Averan spoke quietly, almost whispering the words.
The Captain hesitated a moment, still staring into Averan’s eyes he coughed slightly. He looked up to a small window above them.
“The door. Open the door for the new Amata.”
Averan frowned at that, the Amata was the old Boss, he was the new. He would have to think of some new title with which his people could address him. One which was cooler than Sandorn’s, he would have to think hard. Sandorn was always good at naming things.
Letting it go he clapped the man on the back and smiled, “Easy Captain, I’ll take it from here.”
The man gave a look towards to his men but quickly turned back to nod in agreement at Averan’s order.
Not waiting any longer Averan pushed in the open door to reveal the Tower’s inside.
The interior was surprisingly modern and generously lit, torches hanging from a host of sconces upon the walls. Underneath him Averan recognised the carpet as being of Lenitine make, a wealthy import worthy of any Manor or Home.
A few guards hastened to attention at Averan’s arrival, his appearance and more likely the retinue of men trailing behind them was enough for them to forego any challenge. Besides it was the men outside who were there to do just that, those inside had no such obligation to do so.
Averan passed through the tower proper and down a hall into a quite clearly different building constructed immediately behind the tower. The stone was more modern here. Not more than a century old by his reckoning. At the end of it was an area clearly designed in imitation of a Lord’s throne room. A poor imitation by Averan’s reckoning. On the throne sat the Head of Clan Daroch, Leader Ru, flanked on both sides by sets of guards.
Leader Ru was a bundle of cloaks on the throne. By rights he should have stood and bowed for Averan, but doing so might have been enough to kill the old man judging from his frail appearance. Averan decided to let it go for now. Cool and calm.
Averan gave an elegant nod of his head and feigned an admiring look about the room.
“Clan Leader Ru Daroch, it is a pleasure to be in such an esteemed and well loved House as this. I am Lord Averan, me and my Brother are the new Heads of the underground. I wish to come to you personally to oversee and introduce our new authority.”
The old man looked at him with unconcealed hatred.
“How did you do it hmm? Who helped you? I know the rumors, huge Beasts, fierce and invulnerable. How is it that some Outer ring children came upon such powers? I see by your golden eyes that it is true what they say. Some measure of the blood of the Beast flows through you. Who’s Bastard are you eh?? Which Lord of the Inner ring moves you now? Disrupting and tearing down all the hard work of the Amata and me.”
Averan looked back to Fenadorn who just shrugged. They knew there would be some pushback from Old Daroch but this was way above his expectation.
“No one helped us old man. Me, my brother and our men planned and executed everything we have done and will do. Us, no one else. No one controls us. Certainly no Lord of the Forty. Me and my brother’s blood runs truer than any of them I assure you.”
Averan took a step forward. “We are the new rulers, Leader Ru. Swear your fealty to us and all shall remain as it. You’ll keep your power, wealth and Quarter.”
Ru raised himself a little higher, “And if I don’t?”
Averan took a breath to calm his growing annoyance and anger at the man’s disrespect. Cool, calm and collected.
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“If you don’t then you’ll meet the same end as the Amata, him and all of his Battallion.”
“Are you threatening me Boy? I was ruling down here before your father ever looked at your Mother with a glint in his eye. Do not think to impose your will on me.”
Averan closed his eyes, “I am not here to argue with you Leader Ru. You either comply or you die. And that is no threat. That is my promise. Which is it?”
The old man snarled but sat back into his seat. He grumbled, complaining to himself for a good minute before finally looking at Averan again.
“I and my House comply, Lord Twin. You rule now. It is acknowledged and understood by all under my command. You’ll have your tribute from me. So long as I keep what is mine.”
Averan smiled and nodded, secretly he was proud of himself. Old him would have lashed out long ago. He really was learning to control himself. If he could manage old man Daroch he could manage anyone. I’ll be a negotiator yet.
“We seek only to increase our power, and by doing so increasing the power of those which follow us Leader Ru. You’ll keep what you have and more under our leadership.”
With a curt nod Averan turned, he would have left then, happy and satisfied with his dealings and outcomes but the old man couldn’t resist.
“Dead within the week. Young fools already in too deep.”
Averan stopped in his step. He heard a sigh, Fenadorn.
“What was that?” Averan turned on his heel. “Dead by when did you say?”
The old man waved him away, “You’ve said your piece and I mine, be off now. I have pressing matters to attend to.”
“Apologise. On your feet and apologise.” Averan spoke low, softly.
The Clan Leader looked at him askance. “What? On my feet? Just how am I to do that, I am no longer a young man.”
“Lucky for you, for if you were I would cut off your head. Apologise.”
Averan struggled to control the anger in his voice.
The clan leader laughed but Averan saw the twitch, he always saw it.
“Now.”
A deep silence filled the room at Averan’s words. Such a public display of subservience would be a sign of great weakness in the underground. But Ru had put it on himself. Averan was giving him an out.
“Very well then, I aplogise for any misgivings young Lord. I meant no harm. Just an old man’s humor. My apologies. To you and your brother.”
“Good.”
Averan had the dagger drawn, fired and embedded in the Clan Leader’s chest before his guards could make a move. Then while a cacophony of noise erupted around him he closed his eyes and forced the change.
The Beast, feeling Averan’s rage, emerged immediately, it took all his strength to hold it back from lunging at the first man it saw.
His appearance had the desired effect, the men of Daroch would have heard the rumors, but rumors were just that, rumors. Rarely true and rarely proven. Averan was now so big that he could have easily touched the ceiling on his hind legs, and his frame itself took up the entire aisle.
He let out a single growl loud and clear, the clan men seemed to understand its meaning. One by one they backed away from Averan and his men and slowly lowered or dropped their weapons. Content Averan lifted his head towards Fenador. He was the only person amongst them not totally in awe and dread at the sight of the Chimera. Fendador understood his meaning immediately. Though Sandorn had begun to master speech even in his Beast form Averan still struggled. Only able to emit growls and howls of anger whenever he tried to.
Beneath him Fenador raised his hands.
“Calm yourselves men of Daroch. You saw and heard what your foolish Leader said. Lord Averan was well within his rights by all the traditions of the underground to take his kill. I would advise you all to remember that fact. Should you forget, well then…..”
Fenador motioned up to Averan.
“Gorias has new Lords of the Underground. The Twin Lords will suffer no insults to their names. They demand respect, and once given it shall be returned. Remember that. You have three days to choose a new Clan Leader from amongst your own. After three days the new Leader must present himself before the Twins. Complete with tribute and oaths of fealty. If you fail to choose then one shall be chosen for you. Is that clear?”
Fenador spoke to no one in particular, instead addressing the room as a whole. Averan was quite sure they had got the message. He expected their new Leader to be picked and on his way to their Manor within a day.
Averan nodded at Fenadorn. As one they began to make their exit. Averan waited until they had passed back into the structure of the old tower and a little away from the clan guards before transforming back. He had to hope the men of Daroch would be sufficiently impressed and fearful of his power to try anything to him in his human form. His Arronian armor could not protect him from every attack. Thankfully no ambush awaited him and they headed out of the Tower, past the now meek Captain and his men and back out onto the street without further incident.
Averan waited until they were well out of earshot before he cursed to himself.
“Shit.”
He looked back and nodded nonchalantly at his men. He gave a casual wave urging Fenadorn up beside him. The old soldier raised a brow but duly picked up his pace. He had been his Mother’s most trusted defender and had taken up a similar role for the Twins. He had done more for their cause than anyone, none more so than finding and maintaining a formidable force of men for them to use as they saw fit. Averan trusted him almost as much as he trusted Sandorn.
“What do you think?”
“About killing the Clan Leader?”
“No Fenadorn, about the weather. Yesss about killing the Clan Leader. You saw and heard everything I did. I had to kill him.”
Fenadorn scratched at his beard, “Had to? I mean I understand why you did. Though perhaps a less drastic measure might have been taken. Still, though I don’t think you meant it transforming into the Beast in front of them will likely be persuasion enough for them to sort out the succession without too much difficulty. All in all I think it went quite well. And Ru was never a popular figure, shrewd as he was. However in saying all that I don’t advise killing too many more Clan Leaders. You will need to keep some of the Old guard around if you want things to run smoothly. You won’t remember the last Clan Wars, before the old Amata emerged, chaos, no one was safe in the quarters. We do not want a repeat of that I assure you.”
Averan nodded comforted by the words. It seemed his slightly rash outburst would not prove too damaging. He would explain it all neatly to Sandorn in any case.
“And all that stuff you said, about the three days to choose a new ruler and everything. You thought of that on the spot?”
Fenadorn smiled and shrugged, “What can I say? I know Ru. Or rather knew. And I know you. I like to plan for any outcome. Did I expect that to happen? No. But did I expect something to happen? Yes. Like I said, I like to plan.” He raised a brow and looked at Averan expectantly. “Pretty good right?”
Averan shook his head but laughed, “Very.”
They went unheeded through the streets until they came to the lower city crossroads. There Averan stopped.
If he went left he’d end up back at the Manor. Straight ahead led to the Inner wall and gates to the Inner Ring. He wouldn’t be going up there anytime soon. But if he went right he’d soon end up at the Golden Mare Inn. A fine establishment full or good beer, lively women and frantic music. It appealed to him now more than ever. After all as the new Lord of the Underground he was due a table of high honor. That and it was important that the people saw at least one of the Twins as being approachable and amiable to their merriment. He was doing both him and his brother a service by heading there.
“Right, today has been one of significance by all accounts. We have walked the city, attended every Quarter and achieved a great deal. It is time we celebrated that fact. We’ll head to on to the Golden Mare Fenador, you get back to tell Sandorn all we’ve got done today. We won’t be long getting back to the Manor ourselves.”
The seven men accompanying Averan and Fenadorn smiled eagerly, happy with the thought of drink and a tavern’s delight no doubt.
Only the old soldier seemed less than ethusiastic, regarding him with a furrowed brow. He must have been near fifty by now, but still stood tall and proud, a soldier trained since birth to protect and serve Averan’s Family.
“Are you sure that’s wise Lord Averan? Would it not be best for you and the men to return to the Manor and get some rest?”
Averan stretched and yawned deeply, “One drink seems reasonable, an excuse to show face and to remind people that the Amata is no more. One hour won’t make much of a difference.”
“One hour?”
“Yes, yes, something like that yes, we’ll see how things go inside. But its dark and not wise to be hanging around on street corners, you head on home and I’ll find you later Fenadorn.”
Averan didn’t wait for a response, he pointed the way and his men rushed on ahead of him.
Averan took a last look back at Fenadorn.
“Hey, keep Sandorn sweet would you, I reckon he might be a little annoyed about old Ru. Just break it to him easy like. Appreciate it Fenadorn, I’d be lost without you.”
With that he was off, leaving Fenadorn to his protests.
He felt a surge of energy flow through him with the thought of the night ahead. It would be good to relax for a night, some drinks, cards, girls. Something to take the edge off the growing urge inside him. In any case a night of fun was overdue for him. The worries of today would carry over until tomorrow. Sandorn and all the rest could wait until then.
They moved quickly and were soon outside the Golden Mare’s familiar oak doors. Even before entering Averan heard all the shouts and roars associated with a tavern full of battle-hardened drinkers with cries of joy, agony and sorrow being heard in equal measure. He smiled, he couldn’t wait to join them.