Yanlim stewed in his room. His quarters were well appointed as one would expect it to be for a royal occupant. However, the fact that he sat on a dark stained wooden chair with intricate inlaid designs with an expensive silk cushion stuffed with the down of a goose rather than straw, meant nothing. Nothing at least as far as easing his temper went.
He folded his hands one over the other, and put them back on the arm rest and then brought them back to his lap again. He was barely conscious of the gesture before he shot to his feet with so much force that the chair fell back with a clatter to the floor.
He stormed to the door and tried the handle. ‘Locked. It was locked an hour ago too. I could break it down… but do I want to kill the guard in the hall? To what end?’ He asked himself.
Yanmelu’s order of confinement wasn’t done.
‘How long has it been? Two weeks here? I don’t know. Has he already written to the Duchessa in Pas’en? Will she sell…? Damn it, cousin! Damn you! I’ve supported you all my life… given everything to you…’ Bitterness boiled like stew over a cook fire.
Yanlim released the handle and paced away from the door, ‘It was only a night, not even that, a few hours… is it really worth throwing away your bond with Yanmelu?’ The question was an ugly one.
Then he flipped it around, ‘Would he destroy his bond with you, to rut with a beautiful woman that will mean nothing to him once he’s done with her?’
There was a knock at the door, ‘Lip service at least, pretending I am not confined.’ He thought sardonically before saying, “Come in.”
A servant, a young boy with a look about him that said he was quite watchful, eyes darting left and right, a hint of sweat on his face, and a slight shake to his body that rattled the teapot and cup on the tray. Yanlim’s brow furrowed.
“On the table, boy.” He said and the servant approached, setting the tray down gently. The tray was silver, as was everything else. ‘Nice to have so many silver mines. No chance of splinters with these.’ Yanlim mused as the food was laid out at the chair and the tea was nervously poured.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, boy. You’re just doing your job.” Yanlim said from over his shoulder, looking at the door.
The guards were still there, but whether he would have to kill them or not, was questionable. ‘If I do that, my cousin will have no choice but to kill me. What else could he do?’
The boy still hadn’t made a sound, that was definitely curious. He turned around, his face was fragile, like he was about to cry.
A knot grew in his stomach. The boy had high cheekbones, a pale, freckled face and bright red hair, a rarity to say the least.
Yanlim approached the table, “It’s OK, I’m sure you did an excellent job. And if you didn’t, well, tea can be made again.” He flashed a charming smile at the young man, “After all, you wouldn’t give it to me if you hadn’t tried your hardest, would you, boy?”
The young man held the tray low in front of himself, looking up at the Lord’s face, his lips moved, but no words came out, his eyes were glassy.
Yanlim’s fingers folded around the cup, it was porcelain, expensive was an understatement. “See, it’s even still hot, you’re a hard working young man, loyal, good, I can see that.” The cousin of the Prince laid it on thick as the cup came away from the tray.
‘P-Poison.’ The young man mouthed the word.
Yanlim stopped as the cup came close.
“What’s that, lad? Someone pissed in it?” Yanlim raised a dark eyebrow. ‘Say it.’ He thought, ‘I need to hear it.’
The boy didn’t say it, instead he lashed out with one hand and knocked the cup away from the general’s grip. It clattered on the floor, scattering the toxic liquid everywhere over the stone.
The boy fell to his knees and hung his head, the tray clattered to the floor. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” He uttered on a loop in a very quiet voice.
Yanlim’s words were hushed. “This wasn’t your idea, was it, boy.” The General put a hand on the boy’s red hair. ‘I know exactly who was behind it.’
Realizing the danger of being overheard, the boy replied in an equally hushed voice, “No… I just, I just brought it up and… well. I’m’na very smart… but I’ve made tea b’fore. No tea I know, got somethin added to it from a lil vial. You stuck here an… well…” He swallowed… “Now whatta I do?”
General Yanlim crouched down in front of him, “I’ll tell you what you do, boy. First you buy me time, tell the guards outside that I’m feeling ill and lying down and don’t want to be disturbed. Take a moment to compose yourself, I’ll write a letter for you, authorizing you to take one of my horses, and one letter to be carried. Ride with all haste to Pas’en and put it ‘only’ into the hands of the Duchessa Aiwenor, or her Majordomo. Do this for me, and you won’t have to work again for the rest of your life.”
The fire haired boy nodded and slowed his breathing, it took several minutes for him to compose himself, which was enough time for the General to compose a letter.
‘To the Duchessa Aiwenor, Mercenary Commander of the Breakers, it is my hope that this letter finds you well. I write to you today on a matter of some urgency. As you may have heard, my cousin attempted to assault and nearly killed your slave while she was under the protection of guesthood. And now he has turned against me. The poison he tried to use on me has not even dried on the floor of the quarters I am presently confined to, and I now plan my escape. Assuming I am successful, I will make for the forts outside the city and raise arms to my name. If you will lend your Breakers to my cause, I will give you the Komestran lands you sought, which my cousin would not. In addition, I will allow you to buy all the slaves my cousin owned. I will also pay you the sum of one thousand gold, five thousand silver, and lend you plunder rights over the estate of any noble who opposes me. Lastly… you will get the chance to show that nobody can lay a hand on your property and get away with it. With greatest respect, General Yanlim
He sealed the hastily scrawled note, put his stamp on it, and handed it to the now much more composed young man. “Go. I will make my own way out from here. But I warn you, boy. If this city is not engaged in civil war in a month, do not return. Stay in Pas’en.”
“S-Sir.” The young man stammered and made for the door.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
When he was alone, Yanlim looked at the small window of his room and then over at the bed and blankets. He muttered with more than a little annoyance, “I can’t believe I’m going to use the oldest trick in the book… but more than that… Yanmelu… why?”
It was a heavy question that weighed like a mountain on Yanlim’s chest, and as he tore the bedsheets into strips to make a crude rope, all he could think was, ‘I hope I get the chance to ask you, before I take your head.’
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Sado was on the ground again. He was bleeding… again. “Ow.” He said, again, while staring up at the now very familiar ceiling.
Solution was casually tossing her knife up and down and catching it at the hilt. “That, children, is how you disable someone. As an assassin, you want this to be your last resort, but if you resort to it out of necessity, you want to win.”
Number Four raised her hand as she’d been taught, “What’s an assassin?”
Solution managed a laugh at the innocence of the blue haired girl, out of all of them, the little Number Four was the least disturbed by bloodshed, but also understood the least about anything. “It’s someone who kills someone who ‘must’ die, usually for someone else, or some cause.”
“Oh.” She lowered her hand slowly, then raised it up again before the blonde instructor could continue her lesson.
“Yes, Number Four?” Solution asked with a raised eyebrow.
“What’s a cause?” She lowered her little hand to scratch her hair, were it not for the innocence in her eyes, Solution would have thought it mockery.
“It’s what drives someone to act. You eat ‘because’ you’re hungry. Hunger would then ‘be the cause’ of why you eat. As an assassin for the house of Aiwenor, you will kill for our god and your mistress. You will show no mercy to your target, and you will become her weapons. Those are your causes, they drive you to act.” Solution explained, her smile was sweet and indulgent as she looked down at the little girls, she even went so far as to pat Number Four’s head.
Veema raised her hand, “Since I’m not a slave anymore, don’t I have a choice?”
Solution politely inclined her head and gestured to the door. “Yes, you do. Your mother is a slave, but you are not. You may go if you wish.”
Veema looked at the door, and the three girls on either side of her waited expectantly.
Solution approached her and knelt down, she extended the dagger’s hilt out to her, Veema took it slowly, without thinking. “However… you were hit by the person who bought you, weren’t you?”
Veema nodded and sniffled. She felt the pain and fear rising up again, scrubbing the floor of the house with her eye swollen shut and tears falling into her bucket was the worst day of her life.
“Do as I say, and you will become strong. Stronger than the one who hit you, stronger than the one who dragged you away from your mother… your mother lost her fight because she was weak. She works very hard to erase that weakness, you should too, or…” Solution’s cruel smile formed as her hand went over the dagger in the little elf girl’s hand.
It was unspoken, but even to a girl her age, it didn’t need to be said. ‘You will be defenseless…’
“Being weak won’t stop the sword coming at you. If you kill those who would send armies like the ones who had your mother taken, then armies might not come. One blade in the dark can spare you from pain… Do you want to trust someone else to do it? Or will you hold that dagger and defy anyone to come for you, ever again?” Solution asked, and stood up, then stepped back. “Go out the door, and I will train your sisters. You can spend your life here in the estate of your mother’s owner, washing clothes and living out an ordinary nothing life. Or?” Solution picked up the practice dagger and pointed it at her, then all the others. “Stay with your sisters, and be something more.”
Lenah and Straen put their hands on her left and right thighs from either side of her in the moment of silence. “Our mother… our big sister, Bracer captured them, and after he and his brutes were done, they were sold off to the Tlalmok. Bracer kept us, he made us fight each other and him, and he did to us what his bandits did to our mother and sister. You can’t be good and safe. Mistress protects us, but what if she’s gone? Or what if she needs us?”
Veema thought it over, looking to the white haired twins and to the dagger in her hand, and over to the battered Sado.
To her surprise, he actually spoke as well. “It hurts like hell… but if I’d been stronger, if my warriors had been stronger, you never would have been hurt as you were… they have a point. You have a chance only few get and if it means anything from your borrowed practice dummy, I say learn.” He gave a weak smile before he turned his head up to Solution, “Now would you mind healing me, I want another go.”
Solution snapped her fingers mockingly as if she’d forgotten. “Oh right, you’re still alive. Well, you’re not going to die, and you’re actually a better dummy this way, we’re going to practice stealth killing next. Wait right there.” She giggled at his groan, which was more at her sense of humor than the pain.
“I will, not that I can do much else!” He coughed in pain at his own loud voice, and when she returned a moment later with a number of slaves bearing cheap wooden furniture to serve as obstacles, he asked, “Did my mistress really endure this much from you?”
Solution shook her head, “No, she didn’t.” Her face was very serious when she bent down to pick him up at the waist and carry him to the bed where he would accept being a ‘practice kill’. When she lifted him up, she whispered into his ear, “She endured a lifetime of worse, from your kind.”
She then lowered the Prince of Chains down into the bed and covered him up, leaving him to stew on that in silence while Solution returned to the four girls. “Now, my Pain Children, when the lights are out in this room, you will each take turns navigating these obstacles and trying to ‘kill’ Sado over there. Three of you will act as guards, the other will act to evade, kill, and escape in the dark. Assuming I have four of you?” Solution turned her eye toward Veema, and the girl swallowed hard.
“I’ll learn. Teach me, Lady Solution.” Veema said, laying the bloody dagger down in front of her, she prostrated herself, pressing her forehead to the bloody blade.
“I will, we’ve got a lot of work to do, but in a few years, you will be ready, won’t you, my little Pain Children?” Solution asked with syrupy sweetness.
“Yes, Lady Solution.” They said in unison, as the lights began to go out in the room.
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God-Emperor Ax’Ayact frowned from behind his desk as his sons pled their case. “Father, they’re duller than humans.” Ahui’tzin growled, “These stupid ursines would more than quadruple our food supply if we used them like we do humans, orcs, goblins, and the rest. They’re even duller than the taurians… and it is hard to be dumber than a talking cow.”
As ligermen went, his sons were fine examples, as nobles went, he was beginning to have his doubts.
Xo’Tzin echoed his brother’s sentiment. “They insult us by pretending to be the equals of others who are their obvious betters, they fight well enough but…”
God-Emperor Ax’Ayact of the house of Tzin dropped his quill and formed his massive white fur covered fingers together so tightly that the claws on the ends dug into the flesh of each hand. “Yes, they do, don’t they? Why… it is almost as if they comprise almost one in every five of our entire army. Why, it is almost as if they comprise some of our most powerful champions and helped build our empire. It is almost as if they fight and die loyally for us and have done so for hundreds of years since our empire was first established.”
His sons lowered their heads, “But they are stupid.”
“They are not the brightest of the beastmen races, if ours is as radiant as the sun, then theirs is but a torch, but they are ‘ours’ and they will be treated as such!” He roared the final statement, and his sons knelt instinctively.
“Yes father…” His sons lowered their heads and spoke through unhappy growls.
“Boys, my boys… what is ‘wrong’ with you lately?” The God-Emperor winced and touched his head. Pain shot through him like he’d been stabbed with a knife, anger rose with it, much greater than he expected, but he kept it down and spoke to them as a father. “I realize you are at ‘that age’ where many of our kind are spoiling for fights, but you are better than this. You’ve been fighting more with each other, and with the other nobles…”
“Father…” Xo’Tzin began, “It’s just… everything feels wrong! Ursines like the pandamen consume a great deal of food, but they should ‘be’ food, we don’t get what we could get out of them. And we have free humans and so many others on the border…”
“You want a war, do you?” Ax’Ayact asked.
Ahui’Tzin growled hungrily, “Father, we’re nearly twenty, and we’ve never so much as led a raid, the free range animals have been tributing us all our lives and we’re at peace with both the Devor and the Tlachopan. We are your sons, but we are deprived of even one tenth of your glory…”
God-Emperor Ax’Ayact thought that over, the warning of the elven escort came to him again. He scratched under his large jaw with a bloody claw. “Have we heard back from the Devor ambassador yet?”
The young ligermen looked at one another, then mutually shook their heads. “No, father.” Ahui’Tzin answered.
“Tell me, my sons, did you believe what she said?” he asked with interest, leaning slightly forward over his hand that rested on the desk.
Xo’Tzin answered quickly, “Impossible. But… I believe she believed her words.”
Ax’Ayact nodded, looking approvingly at the boy. “I agree, which is why I dispatched a request to the Devor ambassador ‘and’ the Tlachopan to see if they have heard anything about this alleged threat beyond the taurian kingdom. It is the same reason I sent someone west as an ambassador to one of the other lesser races that the Devor have been known to prey on.”
“Father… so much?” Ahui’Tzin asked rhetorically.
“It is a minor expense, and it is worth it if there is any real truth to her words. She clearly believed every word, and she was right, she had seen something of our empire. She also killed Timnah in single combat, between that and her uncommon equipment, it is only prudent. I wouldn’t risk my empire to save a handful of coins.” Ax’Ayact gave a snort, then touched his head again as pain and anger shot through it.
“But… you have a point, my sons. To keep our warriors sharp, we must fight. Next year, you will each choose a city, and lead a Starlight War. Pick your chosen target, any of the great ones or the minor ones, I leave it to you. But next year rather than tributes, we will take our food by a training exercise, and you can prove to the empire that you are both worthy as potential heirs!” The God Emperor exclaimed, and pointed to the massive painted map on the wall on the right side of his office. “Pick your prey, my sons.”
“With pleasure, father.” The ligerman Princes replied and approached the map with claws out and fangs dripping from open, hungry maws.
“This one.” They each said and pointed to a city each. Their claws chipping the paint when they dug in too deeply and plucked the identifying black mark of two cities from the wall, removing them from the map.