The day arrived sooner than Omrai expected, and he found little more intel than Sendevalians occupied the conquered cities along with the metal men. He and Revin had worked out what they believed to be an efficient system of coordination. Now that Omrai was his Trial-lord, Revin could master far more creatures. Over fifty gallimais were now under his control.

After several hours' ride, Omrai, Revin, and several of his generals made their way across the plain to Spire Point. The landmark was a sleek spear which jutted high into the air, taller than Omrai’s largest saurians by far. Near the base of the formation, a single canopy stood erected, filled with half a dozen people. The canvas was a pale grey, almost white.

They pulled to a stop right in front of the canopy. Omrai had to blink at what he saw. The canopy floated a dozen feet in the air, a dark metal cube at each of its four corners and one at the apex, pulling upward. There were no poles. Was this an optical illusion? If it were real, Jebuthar was showing off. Trying to intimidate by breaking the laws of nature.

His attention shifted to the six people standing under the canopy. Four wore the gold and blue of Sendeval, along with Densal Valen in her silver-golden armor. They stood at the back. One person stood in front, apart from the rest. He wore a robe of a reflectionless black velvet, a dark hood covering his head. He was shorter than the others, but they kept their distance, giving him a wide berth. Omrai could see the man’s eyes looking out from under the hood. They met Omrai’s gaze. For a moment, time froze as each man tried to get the other to look away first.

The moment drew on, Omrai’s surprise growing. He wasn’t budging. The man hardly blinked.

He heard the rustle of straps and a grunt. Reluctantly, he turned to the sound. Revin barely recovered from stumbling off his mount, standing up straight and trying to look confident.

Omrai dismounted, and his generals followed suit. Then Omrai led the way forward under the canopy, walking straight toward the man in the robe.

“High General Omrai Speartip!” Jebuthar said with a voice that felt too large for the short man’s body.

“What a pleasure it is to finally meet you,” Jebuthar said with a smile and a slight bow. “May your burdens be light.”

Now that he was close, Omrai focused his senses on Jebuthar’s mind. He gasped. For the first time in his life. Omrai was baffled at what he saw. Jebuthar’s emotions were like a beehive, infinitely complex interweavings of thoughts, emotions, plans, strengths, weaknesses.

The disorientation almost caused him to falter.

“May your burdens be light,” Jebuthar repeated.

Omrai registered the response. Jebuthar used the common Ateyan greeting one gave to an equal or an inferior.

“Let’s skip the pleasantries,” Omrai said. “We are here to discuss terms of peace.”

Jebuthar laughed.

Omrai’s fists clenched. No one had laughed in his face in decades.

“No,” Jebuthar said, “You don’t understand, I am here to rule. You see, I am the only one wise and worthy enough. Other nations have agreed, and now it’s your turn.”

He looked at the Sendevalians. They tried to look calm, but he saw and felt what was really going on. Their eyes darted from Jebuthar to over their own shoulders. They shuffled as if uncomfortable. They stood stiff, muscles tight, eyes looking down often. The only one who didn’t look cowed was the Princess, daughter of King Den Davod of Sendeval. She stood tall, her body tense in preparation for combat, her hand touching the hilt of her sword. She bore a harsh glare that he was surprised to find was not aimed at him, but at Jebuthar.

Jebuthar smiled. “You can either let it happen or experience the suffering which comes from resistance.”

Omrai shook his head and mustered every ounce of authority he had. “Here is the arrangement. You depart my lands and free my cities and tell the Sendevalian army,” Omrai nodded toward Princess Densal Valen, “to go home.”

Densal Valen approached and shook her head, “You have land and cities to spare, the island of Sendeval does not.”

Omrai glowered at her. “I am not treating with you, whelp of a traitorous king.”

The princess glared at Omrai and said, “You would be wise to not treat me like a child.”

“And you would be wise to stop acting like one,” Jebuthar said, sharply, “and to shut your mouth when grown men are talking.”

The princess jutted her chin and opened her mouth, but Jebuthar raised a signifying hand.

“You will be silent,” Jebuthar said, his gaze a warning.

The princess closed her mouth but kept a scowl.

Jebuthar turned to Omrai, “You will yield your lands to me. You and your brother will be imprisoned, and I will appoint new rulers in your place.”

“Nothing you just said is going to happen,” Omrai said, his voice a growl.

Jebuthar sighed. “I’d hoped to convince you, but a man who conquered his own nation will not willingly let it go, not for any amount of wisdom. Fine, take this deal for now. Your army will not attempt to retake the land I’ve taken, then, after some preparation, I will renew my assault. You will have until then to reconsider.”

He turned to the Sendevalians, “I believe Peacemaker Hedansil informed you of what happens to those who resist?”

Omrai noticed Hedansil standing in the back. He flinched at the mention of his name. The Sendevalians, apart from Densal Valen, still bore frowns or frozen looks of apathy. Somehow, Jebuthar had beaten the defiance out of Sendeval. He didn’t think it was possible. Centuries of conflict then decades of defeat at Omrai’s hands hadn’t done it. What could Jebuthar have done?

“I am not without mercy,” Jebuthar said. “If at any point you surrender, I will cease slaughtering your armies. I will not exact retribution for one man’s pride.”

Omrai clenched his teeth and fists. He was a breath away from striking the man, but it still disturbed Omrai that he couldn’t read him.

“Why don’t I attack now?” Omrai said, “Your language communicates weakness. Sounds like you’re not prepared. I should destroy you now. Take back my cities. Crush your army into dust.”

Jebuthar laughed. This was louder and heartier than before. Omrai was taken aback.

Jebuthar took a steadying breath and shook his head. “Your boldness is admirable; the problem is you assume I’m playing the game by your rules. You think I will bargain, and fight, and negotiate according to your-” He signaled to Omrai and the Sendevalians. “-traditions. No, Omrai, I walk a new path. One you’ve never seen. What have you heard from your spies?”

Omrai blinked.

“Apart from the soldiers killed in my initial attacks, have you heard much else?”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Omrai spoke slowly, “They were surprised by your machines and sorcery.”

“But have you heard of how I’ve treated those who remain in the cities I occupy?”

Omrai had to shake his head. Omrai assumed it wasn’t good.

Jebuthar looked east. “I don’t participate in the murder of innocents. I slaughtered a regiment of Sendevalian soldiers when I discovered they were raping the women in a city. I killed them myself. Publicly. Slowly, much like the pain they caused. Their screams echo in the minds of the Sendevalian soldiers. Far louder than the screams of those they abused.”

Jebuthar’s face had gone cold, his lips in a thin line, his brow furrowed in a grim expression.

“At first, they didn’t believe me when I said pillaging and raping would be punishable by death.” He looked to the Sendevalians, “Have there been any problems with such behavior since?”

They shook their heads, and Omrai believed them. Omrai himself had strict punishments for men who performed such crimes, whether against an enemy or not. The Shevidaron condemned such behavior.

Jebuthar looked back at Omrai, a softness to his voice, “I am not here to conquer, but to free . To free you from bickering, from war, from abuse of the innocent, from material obsession, from overburdening taxes, from overcontrolling governments, from cultures corrupted by sin. I am here to baptize you by fire and transform you into new creatures under father God. And I can only do this if I rule . I will kill any man who gets in the way.”

Before Omrai could respond, Jebuthar continued with a tightened glare. “My way is God’s way.”

Omrai couldn’t believe that Jebuthar wanted to fix the world out of some sort of piety. It had to be for pride. But… if he truly believed… Omrai shook his head. “You’re a great orator, Jebuthar,” Omrai said, “But how do I know I can trust you? Say I did surrender, how do I know you’re not just another tyrant?”

Jebuthar nodded, “a fair argument.” He pointed to the east, “There is your eastern tribe, I also rule the nations of Sendeval, Vurfhaden, and Mirhaden. Koyeji I am in negotiations with as well, just like with you. After you see what light I bring to the nations, you might beg to join.”

Omrai took a deep breath. “Jebuthar,” Omrai said, shaking his head, “I can’t allow you to keep what you’ve taken, nor can I allow you to take any more.”

Revin took advantage of the long silence. “Jebuthar… may I speak with Narazoth?”

Jebuthar gave Revin a strange smile. “I was wondering when you would speak, little monk. But I’m sorry, he isn’t here.”

“You know I can speak to him.”

Jebuthar nodded. “I will tell him.”

Jebuthar closed his eyes. A few moments later, he turned to Omrai. “Are you sure there is no way for you to agree to my terms? For your people’s sake?”

“You wished to speak to me?” Narazoth said in Revin’s mind.

Revin’s attention shifted from Jebuthar to the voice in his head. Ever since they had arrived, he had felt out telepathically, much like he had done to his father when he’d brought an injured Ismander into Sothfæder. The direction should have been easy to sense.

But as he searched, he felt nothing. No direction. No source. Just a voice.

A chill rolled up his spine, a primal instinct of knowing the predator was watching you, but not knowing where it was.

“You have heard my Lord’s wisdom and wish to join?”

“No, I want to know why you follow a madman,” Revin said in his mind.

“You’re young and foolish. There is no defying Jebuthar. He will rule all and will heal the world.”

“But what about choice? Is it worth making the world miserable in your attempts to fix it? If they resist at every step?”

“This is your final chance to leave this land or join Jebuthar, my Lord warns me these negotiations are not going well. You might be signing up for a war. Are you on the right side?”

“I’m not afraid.”

Revin heard laughing in his head. “Boy , you haven’t seen war. Death yes, but blood and carnage? Agony and suffering? No. But you will. You will feel the torment of every dying beast you control. You will suffer death, and death again.”

Revin tried to steady his heartbeat. Black fur. Reddening snow. Whining in pain. Yellow eyes ringed with orange. Betrayed. Fluttering closed.

“Revin, do you want to feel that again?”

“No.”

“Then surrender.”

Revin felt his body stiffen. If he gave in, if he surrendered, Jebuthar could march with no obstacles onto his homeland. He would win. Revin moved the trembling tension down into his fists, feeling them closing tight.

“No. I won’t willingly become his slave. Freedom is a gift from Father God. Jebuthar wants to take that away. The Sephitaron says we are not to force our will on another. You were a Monk once, you know.”

“What do you think Jebuthar will teach?”

Revin thought, “but he goes against everything the Hiriv Monks teach.”

“Even if he must force them, they will learn the truth. And if they learn it well, they will not need him anymore.”

“No matter how great your arguments sound, you’re wrong. You killed Ismander… And you killed Blackfire…” Revin clenched his fist, feeling tears. “I’ll find you and bury the prophet’s sword in your chest!”

There was silence.

“Fine. You’ve chosen your fate. Prepare to meet it soon.”

The connection dissipated. Revin rubbed his temples and opened his eyes. It took a moment, but the sound of Omrai and Jebuthar’s conversation, separate from his own, slowly became clear in his ears. He tried to remember if Omrai could overhear a telepathic conversation with someone else or not. Revin was sure his mother had said that the Trial-Lord wouldn’t hear it. But he wasn’t sure.

✦✦✦

“That’s really it?” Omrai said, his hand gripping his swords hilt until his knuckles turned white. “You will not bend on a single point?”

Omrai shook in anger. Omrai hadn’t heard that, right? Revin was sure that wasn’t how it works.

“It is your inflexibility that is most unfortunate,” Jebuthar said, “These negotiations are over. What comes next, you bring upon yourselves.”

Omrai looked to Revin. “Let’s go.”

Omrai and his generals mounted quickly, and Revin followed close behind. As they rode, Revin managed to glance over his shoulder.

Jebuthar looked right at Revin, a knowing smile on his face.

Revin shuddered and turned back to Omrai.

“Did you hear my conversation with Narazoth?”

Omrai shook his head. “What happened?”

“About as much as with Jebuthar.”

Omrai nodded sharply. “We’ll need to prepare for the worst. I can’t anticipate Jebuthar will wait long to make his next move.”

“What do you think he’ll do?”

Omrai’s lips formed a stiff line, his cheeks pushing outward with the clenching of teeth.

He never answered.