Nua entered the room, closed the door behind her, and gave a crisp military salute to her Prince. In full military regalia, he could not help but feel impressed. ‘She did take down Bracer, in single combat no less.’
Nua caught the downcast look of Tir and the somewhat distressed Prince, “Did I interrupt… if so, this can wait till my return…?”
“No, you did not. Go on, Duchessa.” Prince Rasgen said with a brusque, sombre tone before his lips tightened unhappily.
“Very well, My Prince. First, I wanted to thank you for my elevation, and for doing so here at my estate, I hope my hospitality was satisfactory… Forgive me, but I thought to find both of you happier… was Kaiji in some way displeasing to you both?” Nua asked, glancing around as if looking for something amiss.
“No, no this is a more personal matter.” The Prince replied, closing the door on the question.
“I- I see. Tir, if you don’t want to be here for this, you don’t have to be.” Nua said, inclining her head toward the door.
“I thank you, my lady, but I will remain.” She half mumbled and kept her eyes humbly down.
“As you like.” Nua said, and turned her attention to the Prince. “Sire, it’s about the matter of your marriage proposal.” Nua’s hands folded tightly behind her back, “If you want to reconsider, well I won’t begrudge you that. I’m nothing like Sobella, or Lodira, or Tir, or the other women whom you’ve delighted in. I don’t wish for your unhappiness with me. I value your friendship, but…” She drew her hands in front of her and removed the glove over her false hand, “Can you really… with someone who has this, and can do the things you know it can do?”
Prince Rasgen’s answer was decisive and bold, “Yes,” and he fixed her with a firm stare, “it is true you are nothing like anyone else. But in a way, that is what makes you well suited to sit beside me. I am first and foremost, a Prince, I have a responsibility to my city to ensure it is well governed from one generation to the next, as much as I do to ensure it is well governed in my lifetime. I don’t know if we’ll love one another, but,” he clenched a fist and then immediately relaxed, “we are nobles. Our wants come second to our duties. We don’t often get what we want, when it can’t be bought for mere coin. Besides, there are worse circumstances than marrying someone you actually like.”
Nua gave a slow nod of agreement while she put her glove back on over her left hand. “You’re the second man I’ve known who did not mind a mutilated elf. And so you know, Prince Rasgen, I’m not trying to turn you down right now… this is still a great deal to take in, I will consider your offer while I am gone, and when I return, I will give you my answer. I have some final preparations to make, but I wanted you to know that before I leave. However I warn you again, my Prince, life at my side is a dangerous place.”
“Life in my own skin is just as dangerous.” Rasgen said sardonically. “Good luck, Duchessa Aiwenor. May the fates favor you.”
She bowed, “Sire, they will pitch a fit when they see what fate has in store for them.” She only left as quickly as she’d come, leaving one man silent and confused at her final words, and one slave weeping.
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Onimeus patted the warhorse on the neck before he mounted up. Five hundred of his Komestrans had done the same, and they looked like an impressive lot. Still, he cast his eyes toward the building where better ones stood silent. ‘With those, we could plow through anything, hundreds, no, thousands of undead cavalry would give even the Tlalmok pause…’ The vision passed before his eyes again, tens of thousands of soldiers from all the great cities, Komestrans formed up at the center. Tens of thousands more from all the small cities. Thousands of cavalry that never tired or hungered or feared… all sweeping over the Tlalmok Empire in the first invasion of the hated enemy in… ever.
‘If I should live to see the day… then I can die a happy man the very day after.’ He thought and looked over his infantry. Iron discipline ran from rank to rank. Archers at the rear, and a handful of magic casters behind those, mounted on horses to give them a survivability edge.
“We’re going to make quite a sight, won’t we, old friend?” Sado asked him as he approached after the inspection was done.
“Yes, my friend, we will. We’ve drilled relentlessly, I daresay that we’ve crammed years of experience into a fraction of that time. Plus, they have something to prove, and ambitions to fulfill.” Onimeus grinned broadly, his smile stood out all the more, centered inside a large white beard.
“Very true, very true. I reminded them all that the best performers will have some of their family made a rescue priority.” Sado opened and closed his armored hand slowly, cracking the knuckles within the armor. “That will guarantee that we show them that Komestrans are far too dangerous to keep captive… unless of course you’re strong enough to earn our loyalty.”
Onimeus grinned at the young man in the gold collar, “Sado, it may have taken many years longer than it should have, but I do believe you’re learning.”
Sado didn’t argue the matter, all he said in turn was, “Better late than never, now we just wait for our guiding star, and we get going to wake our entire people’s pride again.” He went back and took his place in line, and Onimeus turned an eye toward the estate, eager for his future Prince to join her people.
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Priceless shot up from behind the desk of the lady Aiwenor as soon as the lady herself came through the door. She scurried around to the front and prostrated herself immediately. “Mistress! I was just getting to work!” Priceless exclaimed in a slightly higher pitched voice, as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.
‘She’s come so far… but she’s still on edge.’ Nua thought and crouched down to the brown haired woman, her right hand ran over Priceless’s head, “It’s alright, you’re doing what I said, that’s never a problem.” Nua said gently. “I gave you the purple for a reason, now rise, I want to talk to you before I go.”
The gentle voice was almost motherly, and when Nua took Priceless’s hand after speaking, and slowly stood up, Priceless stood with her.
“You can do this.” Nua said with steel in her voice, it was almost hissed out, and the confidence in her words were not lost on the young woman.
“I- I will try. I’ll try so hard for you… I promise I will, I promise… I won’t let my savior down…” Priceless kept the promises flowing like a river until Nua put a finger under her chin and lifted it, closing Priceless’s mouth for her.
A crooked smile formed on the normally stern faced Nua, “Priceless, if you’re doing your best for me, I can forgive mistakes. If you’re loyal to me, I can forgive mistakes. I won’t hurt you for trying your hardest and not being ready. You’re bound to make mistakes. Even the Dark Savior made mistakes. The only one I know of who makes no mistakes is a god. As you’re not a god, I don’t expect you to be perfect. Just try, not just for me, but for everybody who serves me. Whenever you make a mistake, just try to learn from it and do better next time.” Nua clasped both of Priceless’s hands together, the young slave shook in her boots for a moment at the compassionate touch.
“Don’t promise perfection, just promise your best, and keep working to make ‘that’ better. If you do that, I will forgive any little mistakes along the way. I will protect you, take care of you, and never let anyone touch you again… do you trust me, Priceless?” Nua asked with matronly gentleness.
Priceless nodded rapidly, unable to form real words, Nua drew the woman closer, and embraced her, “I’ve heard you refer to me as your goddess, is this true, Priceless?”
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“Y-Yes mistress, it is. Goddess of deliverance…” Priceless blushed a deep red when she answered.
Nua lowered her gaze so that her lips were inches from Priceless’s ear and she whispered, “Then remember this, little slave, a goddess killed for you, a goddess thought you were worth it, and all you have to do to prove her right, is your best. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course! That’s all I want to do!” Priceless squeaked out with her hands tight against her own body, unsure if she should even dare to return the embrace, her brown eyes wide and staring at nothing.
Nua stepped back, and nodded with a quick, sharp motion. “Good! Then that is all you need to do, and I’ll be proud of you. I’ve left notes to make it easier, and all those around you are here to help. Everyone wants you to succeed. Now, I’d wish you luck, but you don’t need it.”
She left her servant behind a moment later, and so she didn’t see that as soon as she left, Priceless went close to the window that offered a broad view of the front of the estate, and prostrated herself facing the army her mistress would lead.
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When Nua descended the stairs, Ambassador Botisa was waiting for her. He inclined his head and spoke in a deep, booming voice, “Duchessa, I am ready to go.”
“Of course, Ambassador Botisa.” Nua replied and waved to the double door, “After you?” She said, then went on as the boys at the doors brought them both open.
As they left, Nua asked him, “Were you able to speak with some of the other mercenary leaders working out of here?”
“Several.” Botisa remarked, but he did not elaborate.
“It did not go well?” Nua pressed with a short sentence while they descended the stone stairs.
“Much boasting, but before coming to your home, I asked around the city about various mercenary groups.” Botisa replied, and then ceased to speak again.
“You didn’t care for what you heard, then.” Nua stated rhetorically.
“No. No I did not. Glorified plunderers, most of them. We need no plunderers, we need warriors.” Botisa’s frustration was palpable, until he looked up from the Duchessa and out over the waiting force of thousands in perfect rows waiting in total silence with arms at the ready.
“Like that?” Nua waved her arm out at them with a profound sense of pride that she did not keep off her face and let her soldiers see her joyful expression as she walked in front of them.
“Yes…” Botisa whispered reverentially. Halberds stood straight up in perfect rows like a forest of planted trees, black armor glinted in the light of day, and no man or woman so much as coughed to disrupt the order of the whole.
“Fall in at my left, Ambassador Botisa.” Nua instructed him when she reached the horse at the left hand of Onimeus.
She mounted the steed and turned it around to face her soldiers. “Komestrans! When you came to this city, you came with people thinking you were born to bow and scrape as menial nothing trash! You came here with people beginning to believe that your wives, mothers, and daughters were natural whores, while your sons, husbands, and fathers were perfect for sacrifices to Tlalmok hunger!”
The low rumbling of the force she faced told her what they thought of that. “Today you march out of Pas’en! You march out as soldiers of the House of Aiwenor! Today when you march toward that gate, I want this city trembling at the thought of facing a Komestran on the battlefield! Remind them that you are to be feared! Shake the stone beneath your feet! Crack the skies with your cadence! Show them they were wrong!”
“And remember this… you will not be coming back here. When our work is done, Komestra will be reborn!” Nua shouted again and took out her knife to stab it toward the sky.
The first cheers hit her like a wave, and Nua was pleased.
The Duchessa turned her horse around again, taking her place at the center. “Forward...march!” She shouted, and the drums and fifes began to play, heralding a military march.
The steps were only a low rumble on the soft grass, but it was caused by thousands, and as they left the grass and reached the stone, that rumble became louder, and louder, and louder.
In perfect step, heavily armored warriors on foot and horse alike, began to shake the nearby buildings. Countless eyes stopped and stared in disbelief. With every step, the halberd butts hit the stone, increasing the thunderous sound, wagons darted out of the way, peasants, slaves, merchants, and the occasional minor noble cleared out of the street. Then the cadence hit with loud, booming vocals.
“Whatta you doin with a knife?!”
“Goin out to take a life!”
“Whattaya doin when they run?!”
“Chase em down and have some fun!”
Every step echoed in time to the ongoing cadence, and every line promised bloodshed, bloodlust, and violence. Worse however in the eyes of the gawkers, was the unflinching, loud enthusiasm for it all.
Nua’s heart sang and it pounded in rhythm with her battalion, but she kept her eyes forward, toward the southern gate. It drew closer inch by inch, until the gawking of the populace became the gawking of the guards. It was one thing for them to ‘hear’ of a mercenary organization run on a noble estate, it was even one thing to occasionally sell to one of the slave warriors who was gifted with a reward of coppers to spend for himself.
But seeing it was a completely different matter. The living city became deathly still as what entered as twenty-five, exited in the thousands, snaking through the streets until the last flowing tail of the Komestran heavy cavalrymen left the city behind.
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Though Nua and her Breakers left the city behind, the noise they made carried back to the walls and beyond for some time, and in the aftermath of the march, there were more than a few responses to be had.
“So… those… Those are slaves? ‘Komestran slaves?!” A baker said, still staring down the street after the force passed. His gut was large from having consumed too much of his product over his years of work, and his now very round face was full of worry.
“We can’t have a city full of people like that running around… it’s asking for trouble!” His brow furrowed, but his customer tried to argue.
A white robed Starwatcher priest snapped out, “The Stars decreed this for Komestrans, the fall of their great city is proof that the Stars will them to live forever in chains, they are the natural sacrifices to the hunger of the Tlalmok.”
The baker frowned, “Beggin yer pardon Starwatcher, but I was just watchin a buncha natural slaves shake the city. Didna look like ‘natural slaves’ to me. That there…” The fat baker shook his head while he wiped his hands on his apron, “That there looked like trouble. You wanna fight that? I sure don’t.”
The Starwatcher drew out a coin and placed it in the baker’s palm, he pushed it into the soft hands a tad more roughly than he had to, but he paid and departed in a displeased huff.
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On the wall, the captain of the guard turned to his lieutenant, “Sola, make a note.” The gruff, bearded, middle aged captain uttered, wringing his hand around the hilt of his sword.
“Sir?” The young officer asked.
“Do not buy a single Komestran if they’re going to be anywhere near our weapon stores. Buy slaves of some other place, even our own.” The Captain’s brusque order offered no chance at argument, but Sola could not help but point out…
“Sir, that eliminates most everywhere for the city guard, who will do all the work…?”
The captain shrugged, “I don’t know, and I don’t care. We’ll buy Kaisenians, or Hanaksenians, or Shognians, or anything else, but I don’t want to chance an accidental unit of those bloodthirsty maniacs forming near one of our own weapon caches. If we have any now… see if anyone else wants them, but offload them as soon as possible. We can’t have that inside our own walls.”
“Sir… I’ll get a quote from the Lur’gin company today.” Sola replied, his own eyes drifted over the wall toward the ever more distant, but only slightly less noisy, withdrawing host.
“Whatever they quote you, accept it. If they hadn’t harbored rebellious thoughts before… well even if they didn’t know about that unit of their own the way most people did, they’ll know soon. When they do, after that display? No, we’re not taking chances. Just get rid of them.” The Captain ordered, and did not relax until Sola saluted.
“As you wish, sir.” The young officer replied, and swallowed uncomfortably as he tried to imagine what would happen if they had to fight inside the walls themselves.
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Within hours of the departure, Maleficarum only barely kept from shouting at the other forty of his comrades. “This is an outrage! She has disrupted the will of the Stars! Bad enough when it was a party of barely more than two dozen, but there must have been over three thousand of them!”
“The word is all over the city…” One of his colleagues interjected, “Everybody knew there was a unit of Komestrans being trained as slave warriors… but mercenaries are little better than walking cocks and organized bandits! They plunder, they raid! They destroy defenseless targets! They’re what you’d expect of rabble from the lowest rung of a city’s class…”
“Well, this wasn’t that.” An equally disgruntled priest mumbled. “I passed three different groups leading slaves away on my way here, all of them were taking the Komestrans they bought, back to Lur’gin to sell for whatever they could. Those are the early actors, you mark me…” The old man slapped a palm hard on the round table, “Fear is like water, it runs wherever it can, and drowns reason every time. Others will follow suit and try to buy whatever else they can to do the labor.”
“That’s convenient, given that the new Duchessa just bought the Lur’gin company.” The speaker caused silence to fall over the table.
Maleficarum finally spoke, “Say that again…?”
“She bought the Lur’gin company. Stars alone know how she pulled that off, but we need to talk to the ones who are… or were in charge. I for one… I want to know what she’s really after with all this. I don’t believe it’s just wealth, she’s got that. I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors that she intends to reestablish Komestra, but that… that is just ridiculous.” The priest muttered.
Maleficarum had not run out of complaints, though he mentally filed what had just been said. “I still say we should be more concerned about her heresy. We established a giving box per the House of Aiwenor’s permission, since she gives coins to her soldiers for certain accomplishments. But there is hardly ever anything there. It’s bad enough if the foreign whore has not come to understand the will of fate. But it is far worse if she is leading others astray.”
The rough, disgruntled voice of the priest who had spoken of sales to Lur’gin, rose over his peers. “Then we must punish her on behalf of the Stars by exerting their will. When we get to the next round of sacrifices for Pas’en, we’ll just have to ensure some of her most important people are selected to be sent west. We will simply just spread the word that... yes, since Lady Sobella offered her own life to save so many others, a handful of dedicated slaves from her escort are the will of the stars. All we have to do first is make sure that they're the only ones in the conscription box. Deprived of her best, and sufficiently warned? I think our new Duchessa will fall into line, and submit to fate as is the only proper course.”
The rumble of agreement had no objections, and it brought joy to Maleficarum’s heart that everything would be alright after all.