Sechsdee, the 26th of Harvest, 768 A.E.
“Is there any sign of the girl?” The man known as the Greater Helion asked.
He was bedecked in robe of gold and bronze cloth made from actual threads of the metals woven into a surprisingly flowing garment. Over his robe, he wore a smock of purest white, unspoiled except with skillfully stitched emblems of the stars, the moon, and the sun of Haestos and Maletos. Fire opals adorned a simple band of silver he wore on his brow, which matched the circlets he wore on his wrists, also adorned with fire opals.
If this were not an Aurean city, the Greater Helion’s costume might have been the most impressive thing about the room. Cenalium was the largest Aurean settlement on Elegia and was grandly designed as befitted its stature. And being that Aurean settlements often tended to be larger than the cities of the lowland peoples, it stood to say that Cenalium might be the largest city in the entire world, and they had not spared any expense outfitting the audience chamber of one of the greatest of their race.
Pillars of silvery marble ran thirty or more Mayters to the vaulted ceiling of some of the purest and clearest crystal in Cenalium. The crystal ceiling permitted light to enter, which, when supplemented with the glow of crystal light pods, fed the luxurious rainbow of blue and yellow flowers planted about the room’s many splashing fountains. The fountains contained dozens of small fish of every hue of blue and gold imaginable. The overall effect was calming, if humid and dizzyingly vibrant to someone not used to the color pallet Aureans favored.
Among the Aurean nation, The Greater Helion stood behind only the Grand Helion and the Voice of the Firmament, who were the political and religious leaders of the Aurean people, respectively. While there were only two people above the Greater Helion, there were thousands below him: Lesser Helions, minor functionaries, civil servants, and interpreters of law. Because of this, he expected an answer, and usually a favorable one, even if he were not so na?ve as to think that things would always go his way. He found that power usually tended to have a substantial effect on making events go toward intended and favorable outcomes.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the Guardian Captain choked out, “but there has been little progress in that situation.”
“Pray tell, what situation has there been progress in?” The Greater Helion asked, his lined face settling into a decided frown.
“We are fairly certain now that all three events are interconnected, sir… the disappearance of the girl, the massacre on the gate wall, and the downing of the Flier.”
“That was fairly obvious before you began your investigation. Tell me, Captain, am I employing you to uncover truths or state the obvious?”
The Captain, not an undecorated warrior in his own right, took an involuntary step backward. His throat threatened to close, and he felt his gorge rising as if he might vomit. Not in all of his battle drills, duels, and experiences had he ever been this nervous. Sweat beaded on his brow, catching in the band of cloth that ran around the inside of his bronze helmet. “Sir, if I may be so bold…”
“Please do, if such a thing is even in your nature.” The Greater Helion replied, waving his hand for the Captain to proceed.
“You pay me, and all Guardians in Cenalium to do your will. In this case, I felt it prudent to examine all the facts carefully before making any conclusions.”
“And what do your conclusions tell you, Captain?”
“As far as we have been able to piece together from evidence, talking to witnesses who saw Orestes and his daughter flee their home, and from the lone survivor from the retrieval team, Orestes’ Ox-Man apparently came upon the Guardians on the wall and killed them with a large blunt object. It was most likely a miner’s rock-crushing mallet, a common tool for the Ox-Men in the mines beneath the city, which he later used to kill and maim more Guardians on the trail heading down to the lowlands.”
The Greater Helion sat up in his gilded chair. “The Ox-Man servant? Fascinating. Those may very well be the first Aurean fatalities ever caused by an Ox-Man. I can’t recall any ever happening before.” He sounded amused.
Ever waiting instructions, the Captain asked, “What would you like me to do about it?”
“Kill any relatives the Ox-Man has here in Cenalium. If there are none, pick two at random and have them publicly executed in front of our mountain dormitories for these uncivilized, oversized cattle. We must make an example for them, or they may be tempted to repeat the offense. That wouldn’t do.” The Greater Helion ordered, letting the Captain write this down before saying, “Now, continue with your report.”
“From what we coerced out of Vitalis, who as you know is the lone survivor of the retrieval group, Orestes’ daughter Anthea seemed to commit some sort of ritual before the Flier was struck by an unusual weather formation. We have no way of confirming his story, but something out of the ordinary must have happened to bring down the Flier.”
“Have you begun the recovery operation yet? We cannot leave the downed Flier for the Kerathi to examine.”
“I’m afraid they’ve already been spotted examining the wreckage of the Flier by one of our Farsight Outlooks. They’ve not had any luck spotting the girl though. The foliage is simply too dense. I think perhaps she is too far gone now, and it might be prudent to concentrate our efforts on the Flier instead.”
“Thinking obviously isn’t one of your stronger traits.” The Greater Helion said curtly. “Would I ask you to look for a girl I had no real interest in retrieving?”
“But why, sir?” The Captain asked, confused by the girl’s importance. “She’s just a girl, the daughter of an unimportant Guardian who retired in disgrace.”
The Greater Helion favored him with a predatory grin. “You have a few choices, Captain. If you can discretely find the answer to that question, there might be a promotion waiting for you. If you stir up too much trouble and fumble about searching for an answer, you’ll join Vitalis and his family in the lowlands or maybe slip and fall off the side of the mountain – depending on my whim. Or you can simply forget that you asked that question, and I’ll do the same. You’ll go back to following my orders and demands unquestioningly, and we’ll both live as we have been. Think about your choices very carefully before our next meeting.”
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“Vitalis’ family?”
“Oh, did I forget to mention?” The Greater Helion smiled, pleased with himself. “He and his family are to be put out of Cenalium. Give him his arc-sword, and one crystal sphere. They may have no other provisions.”
The Captain wrote this down as well, trying to remain engrossed in the writing process to avoid showing how surprised he was. This was in effect a death sentence, and it was so casually handed out that it chilled the Captain to the bone.
“Send word to our contacts in the Kerathi port cities. It is likely that the girl will try to escape the island and flee to another city. I can’t imagine Orestes failing to provide her with everything she would need to make her journey to Aetheline.”
“Aetheline, sir?”
“Yes, Aetheline.” Another voice called over.
The Captain frowned and looked for the source of the voice, but fountains and flowers hid whoever had spoken.
“Aetheline was Orestes’ destination,” the voice continued, nearing the Captain and the Greater Helion as he spoke, “before he ran into an ill spot of luck and went and died on us. I can only assume his daughter still hopes to find whomever he planned to meet there.”
The man who spoke was, from appearance, obviously a noble; he stepped out from behind one of the fountains, wearing an expensively tailored overcoat of night blue and pants of deep grey. His hair was shorn short and was silvery both naturally and from age. He had poise in his posture and a swagger to his step that belied his confidence and arrogance.
“How do you know all this? For that matter, we’re not even sure Orestes is dead.” The Captain replied.
“Because I was his best friend once, and now I am his daughter’s greatest hunter. I know that man’s limits, and I know that even he would not have survived the fall.” The man said with a smile. “I am Corydon, and you’ll be helping me in my search for his daughter, Captain...”
“Genero, sir.”
“Well, Captain Genero, I’d like to see what you have on the men who helped arrange the blackout in the city on the night of their escape, but we will have to do it away from here, for I fear that the Greater Helion has much to do and we would simply be in his way.”
“Yes, I have. You may both be dismissed to carry out my orders. The two of you have four tasks.” The Greater Helion paused dramatically, making sure he had their full attention before listing the tasks he had for them. “Continue the search for Orestes’ body, work on the retrieval of the Flier, find and execute any accomplices Orestes had in the city after interrogating them, and return that girl to Cenalium.”
Seeing that their audience with the Greater Helion was at an end, Corydon took the chance then to escort Captain Genero from the chamber and into his own private offices within the building, newly awarded to him for betraying his own friend and his friend’s daughter’s secret.
“So that was your great victory over Rolf?” Davin asked, laughing.
Lamont’s face colored, purpling with anger. He looked around him at his friends and confidants, seething about his public embarrassment at the hands of Rolf and his strange pair of rescuers. The four of them stood outside of Harsbrukke, surrounded by trees, rocks, hills, and the noisy insects and animals that made their homes in the area. Their voices wouldn’t carry over the noise of the wind through the trees, so it made a perfect place for a clandestine meeting.
Davin, the teaser, was a rat-faced little man with a pug nose and a twisted scar under his chin from a knife fight. He was quick-witted and even faster with his hands, though neither attribute did much to help his popularity with the female portion of the local population.
Kort was raven-haired and fairly handsome. He wore his hair long and shaved his face, which was rather rare for a Kerathi male. His habit of shaving earned him a fair amount of teasing from strangers, until he pulled out the pair of hand pistols he carried, with which he shot with deadly accuracy. He wasn’t too poor with a long-knife or a spear either, so anyone who ever made fun of him usually only did it once.
Olin was big, not as big as Lamont, but a man built strong by swinging an axe every Dee of his adult life. He had blocky features and because of his size and gruff features people were always surprised to find him so soft-spoken. He was the outlier in this group, social with them only on account of age and a desire to occasionally cause a little bit of trouble.
“I could have struck him down right there. I had that bronze lance in my hands.” Lamont paused his recounting of the events to stare at his large empty hands. “If that girl hadn’t shown up then with her Ox-Man…”
“You’d have what?” Olin demanded, disliking the direction this conversation was taking. “Your father’s new wife would never have forgiven you for killing her son.”
“I could have just maimed him. Kiersten couldn’t get too angry about that.” Lamont suggested.
Davin smirked. “I’d have uglied him up a bit. You know, given him a missing eye or a crooked nose.”
“Your bark is far worse than your bite, Davin. We all know that, so don’t go talking all big about what you’d have done.” Kort commented smugly, causing the little man to glower at him. “Besides, we’re talking about Lamont and his problem. Frankly, I see only one course of action of you want Rolf’s Familienheime. The question is, have you got the guts to do it?”
“You can’t be suggesting…” Olin said in disbelief.
“I am.” Kort said coldly. “Lamont certainly hasn’t been able to outmaneuver Rolf socially. Rolf is no more disgraced now than the Dee he was born. In fact, if his claim of finding the Aurean craft is true, which I believe it is, he may actually come out of this far ahead of where he was.”
“What? That’s unbelievable. He’s not fulfilled my challenge!” Lamont protested.
“Try to keep up here.” Kort said, boredly inspecting his hands. “What’s more important: a dead animal or one of the mountainfolk’s own ships, broken though it may be? Who in the history of this village, if not the entire island has ever witnessed and found such a thing? Who knows what we might find among the wreckage?”
“The man must have had Gandahar’s blessing on him in the womb. Yet I know I cannot stand to let him be. This village cannot abide the presence of both of us, and I will not leave. So, what do I do?” Lamont asked forlornly, looking from face to face.
Davin smiled ruthlessly as he toyed with a throwing knife. “I’d kill the girl and the Ox-Man for shaming you. Make them disappear. You must protect your honor.”
“It would be unfortunate if Rolf happened to get in the mix and take a fatal wound.” Kort said impassionedly, wearing a feigned look of concern that quickly faded to a grin.
“But they’re in town.” Olin remarked, crossing his considerable arms across his chest. “You can’t kill them in Rolf’s home or out in the open.”
“You weren’t as close to them when they were speaking as I was, Olin.” Kort replied. “The girl said they’d stay the night and then move on. We’ll kill them outside of town, and make it look like Rolf and his new friends had a falling out. Perhaps they even betrayed each other, and all ended up dead. If we’re discovered on the scene, we simply say we were coming to his aid. After all, Kerathi put aside their petty squabbles to help each other against outsiders, right?”
“Right.” Lamont said with a laugh, catching on now. “When do we do this?”
“Morning perhaps. It all depends on how soon the Hersker lets them go. I’m sure he’ll have questions for them.”
Lamont nodded, feeling relieved already. “Then it’s set. He won’t weasel out of what he deserves this time. He might slip out of my grasp, but this time I’ll not be setting a trap for him alone.”
“I can’t wait.” Davin said, flashing a glimpse of his crooked teeth in his most unpleasant smile.
Of the four of them, only Olin looked unpleased, though he tried to hide it as best he could from the others, especially Kort. All he could do was hope that this was angry talk that would come to nothing, but already he was planning on what to do should it come to pass. Friends or not, there was no honor in what they planned. He shivered, though the winds were not cold.
