As winners of the two tournaments, Nodel and I stood in wait outside of the throne room for the king to invite us in. We were the only two he planned to speak with directly, arranging rewards, positions, and honors for the other strong competitors through his advisors and spokespeople.
“So,” I whispered as we waited. “How well do you know Rugnor?”
Nodel frowned. “King Rugnor. I knew his eldest brother better, who sponsored me in the capital after my master fell in the battle for the north, but have come to know the man since he took the throne.”
“And you like him?”
A pregnant pause filled the air, and when Nodel finally whispered a response, I could tell it was a measured, political answer. “King Rugnor cares for the prosperity of the Kingdom and has been a good leader,” she whispered, not really drawing any attention to the fact that he had only been the king for about a year and had only become the king by killing the other heirs in duels. “It is my honor to serve the king.”
“Hmm,” I responded nonchalantly, and she did not press me for more. I did not want to judge too harshly before I met the man, but the whole circumstances of his ascent to power bothered me, and I worried about his intentions. His immediate attempt to consolidate additional power struck me as potentially problematic as well.
“So, that winning blow. That was, what, some kind of intense wind blast? I have never been able to make a strike of air so powerful,” she said, glancing at me from the sides of her eyes.
“Still trying to expose my secrets?” I said with a grin. Nodel glared back at me.
“Maybe I’ll just beat them out of you,” she growled.
I leaned towards her. “I’d like to see you try,” I teased.
She turned away from me with a harumph, and I could see the tips of her ears turn a little red. I chuckled, then tried to steel myself and control my expression as an advisor opened the doors to the throne room and glanced at us.
“The king will see you now.”
I followed Nodel into the throne room, examining the place and trying not to gape. The palace was a magnificent stone construction, the work of countless stone mages through history, but the throne room was warm with extensive rugs, panels of gorgeous fabrics hanging off the walls, and banners hanging from the ceiling.
The throne itself was an enormous, gaudy construction of gold, and there was plenty more gold spread throughout the room in the decor. I wondered how much of it had come from Gurt as I took a more strategic measure of the room.
Two lines of soldiers bordered the walkway between the door and the throne, and as I passed them, I confirmed each was wearing a full set of steel armor and carried high quality steel swords. Rugnor was likely more than a little worried about the strength of the victors of the tournament until he knew that they could be comfortably kept in his pocket. It seemed like Nodel was already there, so this excessive show of force was likely for me.
Naturally, I had not been allowed to bring beasts into the throne room, which made the line-up of soldiers seem a bit excessive, but I suppose I had displayed some of my own strength at the end of the final bout. I had been searched for weapons and magic circles before entering the palace, but with my inventory, the act was meaningless.
On either side of the throne stood a mage, each with a fine staff with a large, gold magic circle embedded in its head. I studied those a bit, as I had not seen very much of how formal mages in the Kingdom wielded their magic circles. My mother wore a small locket with magic circles, for utility, and I had seen Nodel carrying a smaller staff—maybe a rod, or a scepter of some kind—with a magic circle in it similar to these mages, which she normally carried in a loop on her belt but had also been ordered to leave behind for this meeting.
A good, calculating mage, particularly one with access to resources, would likely keep backup magic circles on them, so I carefully palmed a 3-point magic circle and appraised and scryed the throne room looking for any spares just to make sure I had a full read on the room. I found some additional magic circles and made mental notes of them, and also some other secrets and traps of the throne room. There was no pitfall, which was a bit of a shame, but there was a large stone hanging over where the visitors were supposed to stand, attached to the ceiling with a few stone supports. It would be easy for a mage to sever the stone and drop the slab on the unwary fools standing below, but as far as I could tell there was no mundane way to trigger the trap.
In short, the room felt hostile, as did the king, Rugnor Horuth, who sat upon the throne, staring down at us. Nodel bowed to the king when we arrived standing before him, and I followed suit, and the king nodded back at us.
“Congratulations on your victories in the Tournament of Talents,” he intoned. His voice was deep and powerful, but I could not help but wonder if one of the mages was giving it a bit more depth and royal oomph with 5-point magic.
“Thank you, your highness,” I said, echoing Nodel.
“You will be rewarded for your merits,” he continued. “And you, leader of the Tamers Guild, have shown the value of what you have been doing at the eastern edge of my Kingdom. The way you fought on your… mount,” he said, after recalling the borrowed word from the Horuthian language I had used in place of having a preexisting word for steed. “Was rather inspired. Tell me, could an entire army be trained to fight like that?”
“It could, with sufficient numbers of tarands,” I said. “The tarand I rode was transformed from the ones you may have seen merchants using in recent years.”
“Yes,” he acknowledged. “Your tarands have been a boon to trade in the Kingdom. I should reward you for that as well.”
I bowed again. I was more than happy to take the man’s money before disappearing back to Freehold, although it sounded like I might get stuck training a theoretical cavalry first.
“How many tarands could your guild provide the Kingdom?”
“This year, the number would be limited,” I confessed, bowing my head again. “They are difficult to find in the wilds, as they can hide themselves by changing color and blending in with the environment.”
That was a partial truth, but there was no reason to hide the information; anyone who had bought a tarand from the Guild was told they could change colors, and one of the fun things about seeing people riding personal tarands around was what color they had their mount hold its color as.
“Given more time, though, the available number will grow. The Tamers Guild raises the beasts in a controlled space as though they were semi-wild, allowing them to have young each year and the group to grow in number. The excess males are sold, but the females are retained, as each additional female is able to produce another young after two or more years. We tend this group of wild beasts as though a farmer tends his crops, growing new tarands for our use.”
I had been initially hesitant to share information about breeding, because it was one of the Guild’s secrets that came from Earth. The fact of the matter was that I intended on expanding the cheesemaking operation, and the dairy industry simply could not happen without breeding quadhorns. Eventually, I would have to release some control over this aspect of beasts and allow others to learn how to propagate new generations in order to get the milk, and it would not be much of a leap beyond that for others to intentionally breed beasts. Many tamers in the Guild already knew, because I was repeatedly bringing young beasts in for sale, or they had worked the farm directly where beasts were bred.
Stolen novel; please report.
As the one with the first mover advantage, I was not truly worried about losing out on business when it came to breeding beasts, and even if I did, I had more profitable enterprises. The value of tarands was going to dilute over time anyway.
I saw one of the mages raise an eyebrow, having truly taken in my words and found them interesting, but the king just nodded, rolling his wrist. “Fascinating. When do you think you could have one hundred tarands available for the army?”
Without allowing a frown to appear on my face, I ran the numbers and answered honestly, worried about where this was headed. “The Guild could, perhaps, provide the Kingdom with one hundred tarands in about five years,” I answered, speaking only to what we could manage if we kept back every female and scaled up the breeding operation. In truth, if I badly needed one hundred tarands, I would head north through the mountain and tame additional ones from the wild.
The king had thought of that. “Tell me where you acquire the tarands from the wild. We can arrange soldiers to escort farmers and obtain more, sooner. The Kingdom will also pay your tamers handsomely for their aid in this.”
I did not hesitate, having already prepared the obvious lie that was the only possible truth from the perspective of one living in the Kingdom. “The tarands are found far, far to the east. That is the core reason the Guild was founded around Gurt. It is an arduous journey to set out and acquire more, though of course if the king wishes it, it will be done. In truth, the expense and losses it would result in may outweigh the gain in value, when the number of available tarands will grow naturally in time.”
The king leaned over, conferring with one of the mages for a few minutes before looking back at us.
“You also fought with strong beasts as allies. I have been told that some of those beasts would defeat a mighty warrior. How many tamers does your guild have that can command such beasts? How long would it take to train a soldier to do so?”
I frowned slightly, unable to stop my face from responding to the line of questioning. “There are only a handful of tamers who can currently control beasts at this level, and in most cases it would be safest for them only to control a single one at a time. While I could not say how long it would take a soldier to train to that level, a tamer who throws themself to the task in full is able to achieve it in… perhaps ten years?”
The king scoffed. “You’re barely out of your apprenticeship yourself. Do not lie to me, boy. Can it be done in five?”
Boy? You’re not much older, Rugnor. I grit my teeth and stifled my retort, answering the questions.
Nodel shifted uncomfortably next to me as I was drilled for details about taming. Yes, it could be done in five, with the full resources of the Guild and meticulous training. No, the Guild did not have the resources to train a hundred men that quickly; perhaps we could train a dozen to that level, but it would be possible to train up many more men to the lesser, silver rank. Yes, silver rank tamers could control more silver rank beasts in order to make up the difference.
The king and his mage spoke again, and then the king sat in silence for a moment, debating something. I had a feeling I knew where this was going, and I decided to just go ahead and speak.
“Your highness, if I may ask, what would this be for?”
Nodel jerked her head towards me, her expression a warning. The king looked up at me, surprised I had asked, but he was too overwhelmed with a subtle excitement about something to tell me off and, instead, answered.
“For? A powerful offensive, one that needs no iron or steel. A force immune to a discovered weakness,” he sneered as he said the word, and I felt my blood run cold. “A force to reclaim the north.”
I was intensely irritated, but unsurprised, that things were turning out in the worst possible way. Rugnor was worked up, though, and continued to rant.
“The so-called Metaleater in the north made my father look like a fool, pushing back his army and killing his mage champion,” he sneered, and I heard Nodel take a sharp breath next to me. “One man, they say, one man in the north that turned the tide of the war, pushing my father out. My father. My father was weak,” he growled, his voice dripping with disdain. “He gave up like a coward. My brothers were weak too, not willing to take the fight back to the barbarians in the north and defeat their hero.
“I will reclaim the north. With these new ideas, we can kill the Metaleater, and then soundly crush the barbarians. We will take back what is rightfully ours. My legacy–”
“No. Fuck that,” I said with unrestrained anger, palming my 4-point magic circle and 8-point magic circle. “I’m not going to let you do this.”
Interrupting the king and then stating such an outrageous statement short-circuited Rugnor’s fervor, and his mouth flapped a bit as he tried to figure out how to parse what I said. The room stilled, and the tension skyrocketed. Soldiers' grips tightened on their swords, and the mages lifted their staffs.
“How dare you, you worm,” he screamed at me. “I am the king, and no one can deny me. This is my birthright! It is in my royal blood to conquer and take what is mine!”
His chest heaved and spittle flicked from his mouth as he shouted, moved to anger enough to stand and point down at me.
“You can not stop me, and I do not need you. Your Guild is already mine. This whole Kingdom is mine. I will simply take it and use it as needed, then erase any memory of you!” he continued to bellow. Then, suddenly calm, he turned to the mage. “Kill him.”
Both mages moved to cast their spells, but their gold magic circles were already dripping puddles of liquid metal as their structure collapsed. Swords that were ripped from the scabbards found their hilts empty of the steel that had previously been their blades, pooling on the ground around them. The soldiers’ shock escalated as their armor melted off them and puddled at their feet.
The brick of stone that had hovered ominously over our heads was ripped from the ceiling, and broke apart into pieces, each reshaping into conical spears and then hovering above the heads of each soldier and enemy mage in the room, stalactites threatening impalement from above held entirely under my power.
Behind us, the door to the room was permanently sealed, the latching mechanisms and door itself fusing to create a single barrier to entry. It all happened in a matter of seconds, and the mages were still struggling to grasp why their magic was not working before the room was under my control.
Silence fell as the chaos ended and everyone in the room’s eyes turned to me, staring. Nodel had taken a half step back, but I could not spare a glance at her face to see how she was reacting otherwise. My eyes were locked on the king, who finally found his voice.
“...How?”
“I suppose the rumors would have been more like this,” I said, pulling some of the steel towards me and oxidizing it, creating a spinning ring of rust around my head.
“You… you’re the Metaleater?” the king asked, incredulous.
I shrugged. “Afraid so.”
“But you’re Horuthian,” the king’s mage blurted out.
“Also true.”
“This is preposterous,” the king said, getting angry again. “You’re nobody. You cannot stop me. I will take the north, I will slaughter any barbarian that stands against me, and–”
“Enough,” I said, and whipped the disc of rust forward. The buzzsaw sliced through Rugnor’s neck so quickly that at first, no one even noticed what had changed, aside from the fact that the king had stopped talking.
Then his body began to slump to the side, and his head rolled off his shoulders. The throne room fell deadly silent.
“So,” I said, looking around at the soldiers and mages before letting my eyes settle on Nodel. “What happens now?”