Chapter 9: Ralu’s Party

  Bullies only mock and threaten their victims if they’re confident it will work. When they are confronted, they overwhelmingly cower away.

  Aya Ralu was the same in dealing with Kagarani. He’d posture and threaten, then Kagarani would do what he wanted to prevent conflict. Bardom recognized the behavior, noticing quickly that Ralu was only interested in advancing and enriching himself.

  So, when Ralu finally began to deal with Na’Vanad, he didn’t realize that he would no longer simply get his way. There were now conditions attached that weakened him, even if they made him feel stronger, but because he did not know he was being manipulated, he went along.

  Bardom and Yashin were summoned to Kagarani’s office at dawn. The two waited for the general, standing before his empty desk. There were maps of various regions of Gani, including Katan-Bat and the West Midlands. I wonder how much he really wants to conquer a place like Leislay, Bardom wondered.

  “What did you do last night?” Yashin growled, scrunching his lips.

  “Why do you always assume I’m up to no good?” Bardom scowled. “I helped a Shavu who’d had her leg broken, for your information.”

  “Did you find the woman?” Yashin followed up.

  Bardom nodded. “I need to find her a book. She’s in better spirits now that she’s seen me.”

  The doors opened, and Kagarani came in; the two guards outside closed the doors after he passed through.

  “Let’s make this quick,” he said. “You two will go to Ralu’s gala tonight. You’ll offer him 200,000 silver for his artillery regiment to support our offensive. That is all. Do not expand the negotiation into any favors. That’s how Ralu gets ahead of us. He does it all the time.”

  Bardom thought of Sali’s attempt at extorting him. That false promise of freedom to get her to do his bidding. “Aye, lord.”

  Kagarani looked at Bardom and squinted. “A scout says you went to the White Building.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “A bit expensive for a Shavu-Kara, don’t you think?” he narrowed his eyebrows.

  “I learned much,” he replied. “It was well worth the price.”

  “Stop giving him money, Yashin,” Kagarani said sternly, then chuckled lightly. “You could’ve gotten killed, Na’Vanad. Be careful.”

  “You make a good point, my lord,” Yashin said, glaring at Bardom. “On that same note, what shall we do if Ralu captures us tonight?”

  “Then you’ll be captured!” Kagarani said with a flustered flail of his arms. “Say what he wants to hear, butter him up. He’s the most vain man in the country.”

  “It will be done,” Yashin said.

  “See to it,” the general reclined in his chair, looking at Bardom, holding a silent moment between them. “One of Edroegi’s vassal knights fell off the second floor of a stable last night.”

  “Is that so?” Bardom said, acting disinterested.

  “They say he was drunk and yelling,” Kagarani said.

  Bardom blinked casually. “Quite irresponsible.”

  “I need Edroegi’s business, young man,” Kagarani said, “otherwise he goes to Ralu.”

  Yashin frowned slightly.

  “I was not involved, my lord,” Bardom replied.

  “Yes, you were in Ralu’s part of town,” Kagarani rolled his eyes. “Don’t fail me, Na’Vanad. You still have not earned my complete trust.”

  Yashin laid his hand on Bardom’s shoulder. “If that will be all, sir…”

  “Go,” he turned to a stack of parchment on his desk. The campaign northward loomed over him like spikes waiting to descend from the ceiling to impale him. Bardom almost pitied the warlord.

  “Did you kill Erdoegi’s knight?” Yashin hissed.

  Bardom gave him a telling look.

  “Damn you!” he shook his head angrily. “Why must you spite me so? Murder, simply for its own sake, is—!”

  “Would you shut the hell up for a second?” Bardom pulled him aside. “The man raped three women this week and left his last victim with a serious injury. I helped her, then I got justice for her.”

  “Helping fair maidens, are we?” Yashin scowled with a mocking tone. “Next, you’ll tell me she was a Shavu, too!”

  Bardom pursed his lips.

  Yashin’s eyes widened. “If you were exposed, then both of you will be executed!”

  “Relax,” Bardom said. “This was in service of Ralu’s own Shavu-Hiat. She may become a useful ally.”

  “Slaves are only useful to their masters, Shavu-Kara,” Yashin responded.

  “Perhaps,” Bardom said, watching the training yard from the window.

  Yahsin seemed to calm down. The two paused.

  “Do the whores keep the money?” Bardom asked.

  “Ralu doesn’t employ free Lekkians in his brothels,” Yashin said. “Only Shavuim.”

  “But I gave them silver.”

  “Yes, which he collects,” Yashin answered. “Whatever allowance they’re given is just enough to sustain themselves. I knew a brothel mistress once, and she showed me how they make beautiful women out of everyday street rats. Ralu employs some savvy lords who know how to pick the pretty ones.”

  “Are they not born into it?” Bardom asked.

  “It’s a cycle,” Yashin said. “The officers and merchants pay, eventually the slaves are impregnated, then their babes are raised into slavery. For the girls, if they are pretty enough, they are taken into the service of the brothels. The men are taken into Ralu’s army. That is how it is.”

  “Is this the only way to grow an army in this place?” Bardom asked in disgust.

  Yashin shrugged. “Ralu‘s method is the most productive, but it was a long-term investment. For 20 years he’s been doing this; now he is feared because of his army.”

  “And our esteemed general?”

  Yashin shot him a glance. “There are two brothels in Kagarani’s domain, as opposed to the ten in Ralu’s. The whole city seems to frequent that vile man’s establishments. None of the lords seems to bother advancing their own when they can’t compete anyway.”

  “So Kagarani recruits strays?” Bardom gave a sour look.

  “No, he buys them,” Yashin said.

  Bardom grimaced.

  “He views his proposition as servitude,” Yashin continued. “He’ll promise men with nothing a home, food, and a purpose. This is why Kagarani’s men are so much more loyal to him than Ralu’s.”

  Bardom decided now was not the time to bring up the extortion of men like Deckel, whose seed was certainly used to breed more slaves like he was livestock.

  “How does Ralu keep them in line?” Bardom asked. “So many of these slaves don’t even realize they are slaves, yet they live like animals.”

  “That’s exactly it. He gives them meat, ale, and sex,” Yashin said with a shaking head and a deep breath. “Keeping their ambitions and frustrations low prevents them from growing dissatisfied.”

  “And the slave trade continues,” Bardom murmured.

  “Do not let your dislike of the Lekkian system distract you,” Yashin said, “Ralu is an existential threat to everyone in this stronghold. Including you. Especially you.”

  “We’ll change that today.”

  “We’ll see.”

  For a moment, they walked in silence, admiring the architecture of Kagarani’s fortress. On the highest parapets, they could see over the sprawling city towards the Great Leader’s palace. Bardom wondered if he might see Rontisil soon. The only man he wished to destroy more than Ralu was him.

  “So,” Bardom finally said. “Smithing of weapons and the production of people. These are Ralu’s sources of wealth.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Hard to disrupt these businesses,” Bardom noted.

  “We’ll find a way to beat him,” Yashin said. “For now, let’s focus on winning the West Midlands. Doing so will buy us time.”

  Yashin and Bardom looked speculatively at the ginormous mansion. Bardom compared the lavishness to his home, which was far less impressive. Dismounting their horses, Bardom’s borrowed, a sigh escaped Yashin’s lips.

  The wealth oppression can grant, Bardom thought. He took a breath and put back on the mask of Na’Vanad.

  A procession of guests made up of merchants and officers formed into the main entryway, while the lords entered via a secret passage somewhere else. Guards searched their persons, ushering people forward in a steady manner.

  “Don’t say anything when they get to us,” Yashin said, his long gray hair slicked back. He was particularly fit for a man his age. How old can you be, Yashin? 50?

  When they arrived at the guards, men observed them up and down. The lead frowned. “What do you think you’re doing here?” He’d remembered him, one of Anders’ men.

  “We are guests of his lordship, General Aya Ralu,” Yashin said. “I am Yashin, and this is my steward, Na’Vanad.” He presented their invitation.

  “We know who you are,” the other said impatiently. “What sort of trick is Kagarani planning?”

  “None,” Yashin said. “If he wished for that, he would not have sent me here.”

  “Old Yashin,” the other guard recognized him. “Will Kagarani every let you retire?”

  “Probably not,” Yashin said neutrally.

  The first guard glanced at Bardom again. “I’ve heard of this one. Na’Vanad.”

  “Ah, you’re right,” the second guard said. “Anders spoke highly of you, Na’Vanad. The General welcomes you, Shavu-Kara.”

  He says the title to mock me, but he does me an honor, Bardom thought. Bardom bowed. “I am humbled to attend.”

  The guard rolled his eyes, and motioned for the other to check them for weapons. Bardom and Yashin offered their swords then consented to the patdown. “The General’s just letting in Shavuim,” he laughed.

  “I suppose we do need entertainment.”

  Yashin gave an obliging, single laugh, reaching for his sword.

  The guard shook his head. “Come back for them later.”

  Yashin said nothing, a hateful smile on his face. “Come, Na’Vanad.”

  Bardom entered the two story hall, arches towering over his head. People crowded on the balconies as well as the ground floor—it seemed as if the whole city were invited. The ballroom seemed to go on and on, filled with a sea of merry people dressed impeccably. The women wore sleek single colored dresses of white, lilac, or blue, while the men wore ornamented military suits—even the merchants. As Bardom waded through the flood of onlooking eyes, he heard them whisper about him.

  Filth!

  Insect!

  Scum!

  Something spiteful stirred in Bardom. Look up, never down. They don’t deserve to make you timid. With a wicked grin on his face, he subjected the onlookers to his gaze. They seemed to recoil at his sight thinking that he might bite them.

  These pampered fools, he thought. Ralu must hate these nobles, for he looked so much more like a refined gentleman than they.

  It was hard to watch these gluttons. Lekkians were known for their brutality, but so many at this party were chubby and irritating in speech. Keep the Shavuim able-bodied to fight for them, so they can sit here and fatten.

  They gossiped relentlessly, boring the mind out of Bardom. Yashin guided him toward an area with officers, who wouldn’t be caught dead among the sea of merchants, aristocrats, and luxurious ladies.

  After a few moments of awkward standing, Anders spotted him. “Hail, Na’Vanad!” he sauntered over, laughing uncontrollably with the joviality only alcohol could bring such a serious man. He never was this drunk, which made Bardom speculate that his men had set him up to embarrass himself. When he grabbed Bardom up with his arm around his shoulder, his concern for the man grew. “Lads! This is the Shavu I love!”

  “You’re kind, Captain,” he smiled, noticing the frowns surrounding him.

  “Do Shavuim drink?”

  Yashin suppressed a laugh.

  “Yes, captain,” Bardom answered as a cup was poured for him, some of the soldiers recognizing him and greeting him. “As you well know!”

  Bardom joined some others as they chugged their ale. When they finished, they laughed and cheered.

  “So they do drink!” Anders howled.

  “But they don’t drink here,” a voice intervened.

  The officers stopped laughing as the man approached, bald, with a scar over his lips, slicing a spot through his beard. He looked over Bardom without any joy on his face.

  With crossed arms, the bald man spoke again, “Do you think it is appropriate for a general to have his slave buy another lord’s men drinks and whores to win their favor?”

  Bardom did not answer right away, wondering if Yashin would interject. He did not. “I find it reasonable to make friends with good allies, sir.”

  Ralu’s insignia was on this man’s flared shoulder pads, indicating he was one of Ralu’s vassal knights.

  “I’d slit your throat and let you bleed on the guests for that quip, Shavu,” he said. “You’re lucky the General has an interest in you. Very lucky.”

  Yashin cleared his throat. “Peace now, Tig. We’re here to make friends, knowing that they are so scarce these days for you boys.”

  Anders snickered. “I almost like you, Yashin. Sir, these are our lord’s guests. Let’s have some decorum.” He was good at talking, Bardom noticed. Anders had similar charisma to Atzulah. Always knowing his audience, always knowing how to make everyone happy.

  The knight grumbled, then rolled his eyes and walked away.

  Tig outranked Anders by one echelon, since he was a low-level vassal knight to Ralu. Anders was widely favored by Ralu’s men and was expected to be knighted soon. However, there was a distinction between Knights of the Realm and vassal knights. A chasm as wide as the ocean was deep. Loyalty to honor, versus loyalty to a man. Bardom met many vassal knights over the years and knew that they could only be trusted sparingly. Their interests were rarely pure.

  Then there were Rontisil’s Knights of the Peace, who Bardom prayed would not be attending that night. They were among the lowest of all men—abusive, given unchecked power. They were a secret force, violently rooting out opposition and dissent. Bardom still remembered the beating he’d taken from Sir Esel and his men.

  As the night went on, Bardom was grateful not to see them around. Overhearing conversations, it was clear that this was a business party. These were mostly merchants who were either buying from Ralu or selling to him. The war effort would be lucrative for many in their respective industries. The wine was flowing freely, and the people were merry. It was perfect for Ralu. He held all the power over everyone there.

  While he listened, Bardom found it ironic how little these men seemed to know about the world beyond them. What separated the nations of this continent? Geography, solely. They spoke the same language in Katan-Bat as they did in Stet-Lek—and in both Midland kingdoms, they largely spoke it too, with some regional variance.

  They all mostly appeared the same, with Lekkians slightly darker than Katanese, and Midlanders with generally fairer hair than their southern cousins. In Stet-Lek, only citizenship mattered. A slave was a slave—designated by their citizenship. That decided if you were to be treated like a human being or a slave.

  Yet still, half-Lekkians had plenty of freedoms, so long as they were not Shavuim. How ironic that men who looked alike and were equally capable could be treated so differently, Bardom thought. Birth or some other misfortune could decide if you’d be treated like a prince or like excrement.

  Another concerning idea crossed Bardom’s mind as he watched Tig walk away with a soldier’s regality: they all possessed the same base purity just by being in Stet-Lek. It gave them pride and confidence, which brought this unified resolve. It was purity in the form of allegiance and devotion to a tyrant. Even slaves clung to this deluded belief.

  How ridiculous, he thought. Yet, he raised his glass to drink with these Lekkian men, who had come to like him because he provided for their futile pleasures. A short time ago, Bardom might have thought his greatest joy in life would be doing exactly what these men did. Now, he brooded over his mission. Rontisil. Ralu. Kagarani. I’ll kill them all if I have to.

  Something softened his heart as the revelry went on around him. Someone was watching him. His eyes carefully turned, and he noticed a woman watching him with a drink in her hand, sipping with a smirk on her lips, sending a fluttering wave his way.

  “I’ll be back,” he told Yashin.

  Before his mentor could protest, he had gone after Laila, who walked to the side to avoid being noticed.

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  That smell, he thought as he came close to her. Like heaven.

  “Now I’m wondering why a princess would come to a place of debauchery like this,” he grinned.

  “Kagarani is not the only one sending agents to uncover Ralu’s schemes,” she said, moving a drooping lock away from his forehead. “Have you thought about getting your hair cut?”

  “I’m only an emissary,” he smirked as he shook his head at her silly comment. “I have business with the general tonight.”

  “You were speaking of revenge against him just the other day,” she said with playful suspicion. “Strange.”

  She’s too smart, and that could be dangerous for me, he scratched the back of his neck. “Plans take time, I suppose. Serving Kagarani is my primary function.”

  “Yes,” she said. “If only you were my servant in life. I’d have you do everything I want.”

  Intrigue raised his eyebrow. “What sort of things?”

  A wicked grin took her face, and he was suddenly both excited and frightened of her. She’s Rontisil’s daughter! A demon must live within her… what am I doing?

  She put her hand over his chest.

  “What are you doing?” Bardom kept his chin pointed down to avoid gathering attention. “You’ll be seen.”

  She forced his eyes back into her gaze. “I can feel it.”

  “What?” he hissed.

  “You’re heart.”

  He paused.

  “It beats,” she said, “but it’s broken.”

  What? he thought with a start.

  Bardom swallowed, feeling tears sting his eyes. Stop it, he told himself.

  “What did they do to you?” she whispered sorrowfully

  “Nothing,” he took her hand off of him, a look of bitterness taking his eyes. “Don’t pretend to know me. Don’t use your tricks to dissect me. Strong men are made like a tightly knotted rope, and aren’t meant to be unraveled.”

  She scoffed a laugh.

  He rolled his eyes, huffing out his emotional breath sharply

  “You let your broken heart speak for you,” she said.

  “I have work to do,” he said.

  “I’m not done with you, Na’Vanad.”

  “I’m done with you,” he grumbled, turning to leave.

  “What’s your real name?” she asked, a tone too loudly for his liking.

  Bardom halted, then turned to her, getting closer to her face.

  She looked at him fearlessly, waiting for his answer.

  “Who I was before will never matter, ever again.”

  Her eyes darted between his, right to left as she let his words hang in the air. She pressed her lips against his.

  Bardom pulled away, blinking, stunned.

  “Who you were matters to me.”

  “You’ll get us both killed,” Bardom growled as he looked around for an eavesdropper.

  She took his chin and made him look at her. “Do not scorn me.”

  “Seductress,” he purred, “I’m no puppy to play with. I’m a murderer, I’m a monster! Perhaps,” he stroked her hair, “I would enjoy hurting you terribly. Run now, before you regret that kiss.”

  There was nothing on her face but that devilish smile. “You’re none of those things. Once I learn the truth about you, it will set you free from the prison in your heart. You won’t have to hide, at least not from me, anymore.”

  Bardom had no response, only questioning whether or not she could be trusted and whether or not she was solely there for her father’s reconnaissance.

  But how he longed for her! As she turned away to find another corner of the party to occupy, he felt his heart pounding in his chest. That women will get me killed, I fear.

  She disappeared into the crowd, no one bothering her or even acknowledging her presence. Bardom stood alone behind the pillar, gathering his thoughts for a few moments. His eyes were diverted to the balcony, where the host emerged to wave at the saluting crowd, cheers and raised cups drew Bardom’s attention. No other high nobles were present that night, and it occurred to Bardom that Laila was likely not meant to be seen there. And she had not been. Her hair was tied back tightly, covered in a loose scarf. Only Bardom had noticed her. She must have trusted him.

  Stay focused, he told himself, hurrying over to Yashin, who looked around like a watchman, cautious of who might come to him. Bardom approached beside him and joined him in watching the crowd.

  “Who was that?” Yashin asked.

  “You didn’t see her?” Bardom asked.

  “I saw you one minute, then the next you were gone,” Yashin said. “You were either captured or talking to someone. So who?”

  “But you didn’t see us?”

  Yashin turned to him with a scowl. “No. You left.”

  Bardom glanced where he had been standing. He saw me go. Is he really so clueless?

  “Are you feeling alright?” Yashin scowled. “You need to stay sharp no more drinks.”

  “It was just a friend,” he said. “I think.”

  Yashin shrugged away his interest. “Look here. We have big players here tonight.”

  “Who?” Bardom looked around incredulously. He hadn’t seen a single notable nobleman nor warlord.

  “Three have caught my eye. That first one is a merchant shipper, transporting cargo along the coasts. That next man builds his ships. The one next to him is a lumber merchant, and beside him is a nobleman who finances all timber operations in Stet-Lek.”

  “I’m not understanding the significance.” Bardom’s intrigue deflated.

  “The West Midlands have some of the best quality timber in the world, and it’s all north of the capital city. If the city were to fall, a venture for Lekkian timber would be quite lucrative, filling the pockets of the lumber business, the shippers, and the merchants. They want Ralu’s cooperation in securing the venture, meaning, conquering the capital.”

  “It’s called Leislay,” Bardom said, a moment of conflict crossing him. “At least say the name of the place we’re going to decimate.”

  Yashin looked at him with a warning eye, then shook his head. “Our lives depend on this negotiation. We need to be more persuasive than anything these merchants can put forth. I just don’t know what to offer to do that.”

  “We should have prepared better,” Bardom said. “Offering him shared control of the spoils won’t work.”

  “He won’t have to send an occupying force,” Yashin said, nearly pleading with Bardom. “He’ll remove us from Stet-Lek, and get paid to do so!”

  “He’d make more money from full ownership.”

  “Then what good are we?”

  “No good, Yashin,” Bardom said bluntly. “A more skilled tactician would have known that by now.”

  Yashin looked up at the general with a dreadful look, while Bardom scanned the distance of the hall for any sign of Laila.

  She might be a witch, he thought, remembering that intoxicating perfume. Such things of fiction were suddenly feeling real in this most unbelievable period of his life.

  * * *

  “Do bold men always seek to die in such uninspiring ways?” Ralu took a sip from his chalice as he laughed mockingly. “I’d sooner kiss the Great Leader’s asshole than entertain interesting Shavuim.”

  The guards laughed, a good sign that they did not fear an attack. I hate nights like these, the warlord thought. He hated spending so much money to satisfy men he needed. He hated that ther was business to war that he could not control, nor care about unless it meant preventing his men from starving. He hated that his men enjoyed this luxurious waste. Yet, above all, he hated entertaining a man he knew he could not kill. Na’Vanad was terribly unique for a Shavu.

  But why did the Great Leader insist he remain alive? Why should anyone care if this Shavu is the illegitimate son of Vakin? He should die anyway…

  But everything Aya Ralu did was in the pursuit of marrying Princess Bilsa. Once he had her, the throne would follow his line. His son would be the next king. And if Rontisil were to die while the child was still too young to lead…

  “They’re coming up,” Layos interrupted.

  Ralu looked up and frowned.

  “They say they are emissaries from General Kagarani,” Layos, his right hand lieutenant and vassal lord, said in his formal manner. “I was not given advance notice of this parlay.”

  “I told Captain Anders I wanted to meet with Na’Vanad,” Ralu clarified. “He notified Kagarani.”

  Layos inhaled deeply as he accepted that. “Just a troublemaker, my lord.”

  “Do not dismiss my concern!” Ralu admonished him. “There’s no other explanation.”

  “There are indeed several, if you care to entertain them,” Layos insisted.

  Ralu sat in his chair and shook his head. “Why would Vakin have favored him so much then?”

  “Perhaps he truly is as extraordinary as reported,” Layos said. “Such a soldier could be useful.”

  Ralu nodded as he looked off into space, trying to be convinced

  “Or he could be a poison,” Layos added. “The most dangerous ones always look inviting.”

  “Ah, you’re always paranoid anyway,” Ralu muttered.

  “My lord,” Layos stepped closer, “I do not believe that this Shavu-Kara is Vakin’s son. The man had none and, with respect for the dead, was a fool. He had no foresight to keep his best fighter at his side, to protect him from the betrayal that killed him.”

  Ralu stared into the marble tiles on the floor. He remembered watching Vakin’s men die in shock—with looks of surprise as their last acts. Thousands dead in an hour. All from one word: Engage.

  He remembered Rontisil’s instruction.

  “Vakin has many years ahead of him,” he said. “One day, he will be richer than Kagarani, and when he is, he’ll try to overtake you next, Aya. Is that acceptable to you?”

  No, he’d thought. None could compare to me.

  With a devious smile, Rontisil said, “He’s asked for Bilsa. I told him he could have her if he delivers me Abban L’Ani’s head, and the lordship of Katan-Bat.”

  Ralu simply waited for his instruction.

  “He’s weaker than he realizes, Aya,” he said. “Ambush him. Let Kagarani handle the invasion. Sweep in at the end. Make sure none of the L’Ani’s survive.”

  “And then L’Ani women?”

  “Take your prizes if you wish,” he said without care. “Abban must die. Too many years of his defiance, in the name of his people. Gather him and his council up, and get me a place to execute them all. We’ll rip out the hearts of his people, and create something glorious.”

  Something, he thought. “Does he have children?”

  “Two sons, we’ll kill them both,” he said. “Especially the blood son. He’s a killer, I’ve heard.”

  No one kills like me, Ralu thought.

  And when he shoved his sword into Vakin’s stomach, he felt like the killer he believed himself to be. As much pain, and as much misery as he could inflict, he did. Aya Ralu was a monster, and he knew it in his heart. Men are not supposed to be like me. Then he pulls the knife from his liver, and plunged it into his back.

  He looked up at Layos. “Do not speak of Vakin ever again.”

  He nodded quickly.

  Perhaps the way he hated himself would go away some day. He hoped it would.

  “Bring in those damn slaves.”

  Bardom could feel each hand gripping their sword hilts. They fear an assassination attempt, he knew. Anders led them up the stairway, away from the party, as the guards trailed them hawkishly. Yashin remained silent, stoic and resolute as always. However, Bardom was starting to feel anxious. It was unlike him to feel out of control, and now with his enemy so close it ate at him.

  Anders clapped him on the shoulder. “I would avoid speaking out of turn with Lord Ralu. He’s a proud man.”

  “That’s a shame,” he replied. “That’s what I do best.”

  Anders laughed casually, then nodded at Yashin. The captain knocked on the door, and a tall, thin man answered. He was Lekkian in appearance—black hair, tan skin, with bushy eyebrows and noticeably different armor than Bardom had seen in Katan-Bat. The man surveyed him, the silver lining underneath his black plating shimmering under the flames. Bardom’s mahogany dress wear suddenly seemed glaringly out of place. Why was he wearing his armor?

  “Please follow Lord Layos,” Anders said, then left, any sign of his drunkenness disappearing.

  Layos studied Bardom with mocking eyes. “Come, slave.”

  Bardom and Yashin glanced at each other, then entered—again, feeling the presence of blades all around them.

  Ralu sat behind a wooden desk, a cup in his hand, reclined on his chair.

  “My lord, the shavuim of Lord Kagarani, Yashin and Na’Vanad,” Layos said in a bothered tone.

  Ralu motioned to two seats before him. “Please, sit.”

  The two slaves did, sparing a glance at the four guardsmen around the room.

  “Thank you for inviting us,” Yashin said. “I–”

  “Quiet,” Ralu commanded, eyes fixed on Bardom. “I am interested in this man. Not you.”

  Bardom sat a bit straighter. “Why is that?”

  “Hm,” Ralu smirked. “You’ve spent a lot of time in my territory, Na’Vanad. It’s rare for a Shavu to be walking the streets so freely. Makes one wonder…”

  Yashin looked tense. “My lord, we are here to discuss—”

  “Shut up!” the lord barked.

  Yashin recoiled. It was the first time Bardom ever saw his mentor look scared. Ralu turned his neck back to Na’Vanad.

  Bardom raised his hands to his sides. “The purpose of my activities here have orchestrated the desired outcome. This very meeting, my lord.”

  The guards stepped forward, Ralu halting them with the raising of his hand.

  “Why?” Ralu rumbled.

  “Our general has a proposition for you,” Bardom said. “If you would hear—”

  He lowered his hand and sat back, pointing at Yashin. The guards launched forward and pulled Yashin from his seat, pinning him against a pillar and holding a knife up to his face.

  “Damn you!” Yashin growled.

  “Now that we are all a bit more vulnerable,” Ralu said, slamming his fist on the table, “let’s speak honestly.”

  Bardom looked from Yashin to Ralu, clenching his jaw, slow to react hastily—any reaction gave something about him away. “Do you believe your life is in danger, Lord Ralu?”

  Ralu stood up, pulled his knife, pointing it at Bardom. “I know an asssassin when I see one.”

  Bardom laughed, then stood up slowly, facing Ralu, who was a couple of inches shorter than he. “If we were here to kill you, you would already be dead.”

  Ralu’s face tensed.

  “The rumors you’ve heard about me are true,” Bardom said. “Would you dare testing my capability?” He waited for Ralu to grow more unnerved. “Put that knife down, General, before I take it and slice your throat before your men even have time to react.”

  Ralu set the knife on the desk. “If not to kill, then why are you here?”

  Bardom sat. “You are colluding with various merchants to plunder the West Midlands. This is not your best option.”

  A surprised look took Ralu’s face, and he sat down slowly, not taking his eyes off him, knife still pointed in his direction. “Aye. So?”

  “Tell your men to take the knife off of Yashin,” Bardom said.

  Ralu nodded to them, and they put the dagger away, still restraining Yashin.

  “It will cost you double what Katan-Bat cost just to take the whole of the West Midlands,” Bardom said. “The enormity of such an invasion, without the Great Leader’s support, or Kagarani’s, will leave you waiting for two years at a minimum to recover your investment and begin making profit. Even then, there is risk to that venture. Merchants can always become disloyal, or die. Suddenly, your position becomes precarious, and your victory may be short-lived.”

  Anger crossed his face. “Kagarani would kill these merchants? The Great Leader has decreed that such deceptions to destroy our economy are prohibited.”

  “Kagarani is not saying this,” Bardom said. “He’d be angered if he knew I was, in fact. However, I have greater ambitions than being his pawn. I think, my lord, that the two of us can help each other greatly.”

  Ralu laughed heartily. “You expect me to help a Shavu that’s threatening me? A good joke, boy!”

  “You have not yet heard my offer,” Bardom said. “Only my threat.”

  Ralu rolled his eyes. “Then make it.”

  “Kagarani plans to march on the West Midlands,” Bardom said.

  “Obviously.”

  “And you plan to destroy his forces with your artillery,” he continued.

  Ralu’s expression darkened. “Of course not.”

  “Do not lie to me,” Bardom shot back.

  Layos hissed, “Remember your place!”

  “Silence, snake!” Bardom barked. He looked back into Ralu’s glowering eyes. “I remember the sigils of my attackers. They were not L’Ani men! I will not be fooled twice to fall prey to a lackluster predator.”

  Layos stepped back in shock. Ralu’s lips tensed. “I like when an accusation is clear.”

  “Lie as you see fit,” Bardom said, “but I am not the only one to observe that General Vakin’s body was never returned to Stet-Lek. Some think he is alive, waiting for his time for revenge. You and I both know that he lies somewhere in the forest, decaying in a shallow grave.” He took a breath. “Had you competent advisors like myself, I would tell you that the same gambit against Kagarani would only lead to your inevitable bankruptcy. Then the Great Leader gets what he wants: his three greatest rivals diminished—two dead, the other broke.”

  The general tapped the knife. “A convenient scenario for you to depict.”

  “Convenient?” Bardom raised an eyebrow. “Why are you trying to woo these merchants if it’s not an attempt to win more financing? You know the risk you’re at. If you don’t take Leislay quickly, your investment will destroy you. How will your men react when they aren’t paid?”

  Bardom looked at the guards holding Yashin. They were listening to him carefully.

  “How will they feel when they’re starving in a foreign land for you, and you can’t provide?”

  “I don’t share your prediction,” Ralu said. “I have plenty of money. Once I take Leislay, the Great Leader has promised me Princess Bilsa’s hand and a sizable dowry to cover my losses.”

  “It’s amazing you believe that.”

  Ralu scowled. “And why not?”

  “As I see it, I’m the only one of the two of us to have danced with Princess Bilsa. Don’t you think I might have a chance at her hand?”

  “Careful now!” Ralu bared his teeth. “You had no business touching that woman.”

  Bardom smirked briefly. “Apologies. I only see with both eyes that he has no intention of marrying you to her. No matter what you do for him. That dowry is a lie to bankrupt you, my lord. I am certain of it, just as I’m certain the Great Leader intends have you kill Lord Kagarani, as well.”

  “And you think you can magically change that?” Ralu looked at him with annoyance.

  “If instead of killing Kagarani and losing your fortune, you both became rich, then yes, but that isn’t magic,” Bardom said in a flat, impatient tone. These Lekkians are too stupid for me, he thought. “He must leverage you to keep power. Fanaticism alone does not keep a crown on his head. His control is through wealth, and having few dangerous rivals.”

  A moment of interest betrayed Ralu’s guard. He looked up, realizing his wall was pierced. “I am still waiting for your proposal.”

  “Very well,” Bardom said. “Do not attack Kagarani. Instead, let us attack Leislay alone, force their surrender, and grant the city to you. We will prepare to take the East Midlands as you subdue the rest of the west. Your need for funds will be cut in half, with the same profits you expected. Meanwhile, Kagarani gets to escape to Katan-Bat with his life, even if he’s donated a great deal of his fortune to your conquest.”

  “Half?” Ralu raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Where are those costs coming from? Feeding my men?”

  “We’ll also require your artillery,” Bardom said. “Otherwise we are sure to lose, and you’ll have to deploy your own infantry to finish the job. That is still a costly endeavor, as you well know.”

  “The West Midlands are not an easy terrain to win,” Ralu said. “Even if you only conquer half for me, the other half will be expensive to win as well. How can I trust that you and Kagarani’s tacticians can succeed at this? And how can I trust that you’ll truly leave the city to me?”

  “I have never lost a battle,” Bardom said.

  “That hardly means anything.”

  “I have a plan to ensure Kagarani cooperates,” Bardom said. “I’ll need your assurance to get it done, though.”

  “What assurance?”

  “A knighthood,” he said.

  “I don’t make Shavuim vassal knights,” Ralu dismissed it.

  Bardom shook his head. “I seek a greater title.”

  “A Knighthood of the Peace?” Ralu looked aghast. “Never has a Shavu been given that honor!”

  “I am a better fighter than any knight in the Great Leader’s court,” Bardom said. “He’ll value your recommendation if you say I am the best man to serve him. When I take the West Midlands, it will be proven beyond words. I already survived your mass deception of Vakin, imagine what else I can do.”

  Ralu studied the Shavu before him. “You want me to play your game, boy. Make no mistake, you are playing mine.”

  “Trust is impossible between us,” he said. “But I can learn to put faith in you if you deliver.”

  “And Kagarani?”

  “Gets to live,” Bardom said.

  “You are a treacherous bastard, Na’Vanad,” Ralu said, “and too smart to simply be the fisherman’s son you claim.”

  Bardom laughed quietly, looking at the knife on the table, feeling the slipping of his mask. “Where did this myth that I’m a fisherman’s son come from? I hear it too often.”

  Ralu continued to study him until he finally nodded slowly. He thinks there’s a chance I am indeed Vakin’s son. Good. I am safe that way. The unknown is my shield.

  “I will accept this plan,” he said, “but you will be the sole intermediary. Additionally, my financing of this expedition will be lent to me by Kagarani in silver and gold.”

  Bardom knew he was testing Kagarani’s limits. Damn it to Hell, he thought, I may have no other options. He shook Ralu’s hand. “We have an agreement. Have your wimpy errand boy write it up, and I’ll have Kagarani sign it.”

  Layos huffed, then obliged when Ralu gave him an impatient look. When it was written, Ralu signed with his quil, and rolled the parchment. As he handed it over, he said, “Let Yashin go. He’s served his purpose.”

  The guards dropped him, and he tore his shoulders away from them, glaring at them like an angry wolf.

  Bardom looked at him with a smile. “Thank you for a lovely evening, my lord. It’s time we returned to business.”

  “I should kill you myself!” Yashin growled as they exited. Bardom ignored him and smiled, greeting the people they passed, walking gallantly despite his unimpressive dress, as if he already had the knighthood he sought. Yashin looked red, likely still fuming from his near-death encounter.

  “You have an odd way of displaying gratitude,” Bardom said.

  “Na’Vanad, you will undo us,” he hissed. “What method of negotiation was that, where you solely advocated for yourself!”

  “Kagarani is getting the best offer he can out of that,” Bardom said. “He’ll even make some interest off his loan to Ralu—all is well!”

  Yashin stopped speaking which told him he’d made a good point. The older man was more grouchy about being threatened than the actual offer.

  “And to think that you did not even try for Adella’s freedom,” Yashin muttered. “I was surprised at you.”

  Bardom stopped, and grabbed his arm. “I would have given myself away if I did. Don’t be a dense fool.”

  Yashin nodded stiffly, then Bardom dropped his arm. That comment offended him, the accusation stabbing at his conscience. They carried on in silence until they left the mansion, grabbing their weapons from the obnoxious guards who were ready with cheap insults. Quickly, they mounted their steeds and hurried back through the dark streets of Aya Ralu’s territory.