"Servant of Empire" - Ch 20

I slept fitfully on the stone floor, my blanket beneath me and my pack for a pillow. It’s a lot easier to sleep outdoors than it is on solid stone, no matter what some idiot dwarves may tell you. I think a lot of their legendary cantankerous nature is attributable to the fact none from among their entire race ever got a good night’s sleep. Stone beds, that’s just crazy talk.

I sat up in the chill air to see Cannon raising himself up and shaking himself off like a dog. He leaned his head left and right with audible popping sounds, then cracked his knuckles loudly. He saw me watching and grinned.

“Morning, Azrael,” he said. “How’s our lucky Shadrim faring this morning?”

I twisted myself left and right, trying to get my tail back to straight. My spine rewarded me with a few snaps of its own. “I’ve been worse,” I shrugged. Couldn’t be sure if he was being sarcastic or serious, so I decided to take a compliment where I could.

“Now we’re talking!” He said, rubbing his hands together as he bent down to gather up some clothes. Stretching a shirt on, he walked away.

The others were stirring as well. Nix, who had been awake a little while, standing from her meditative seated position. She vanished quickly into the dark. Sered unfolding himself from a recline. Rendo was already up, apparently he’d had last watch.

“I found some water over behind the trees,” he said, pointing towards the greens we’d found earlier. “Just don’t let the flowers get close to you, they bite.”

He held up a finger covered in tiny scabs, apparently he’d learned through experience.

One by one we made our way to the little pool he had mentioned. It was the result of a tiny trickle that flowed in from the roof and down the wall. I suppose it drained away through a hole, or filtered out somewhere. Anyway, the water was clean, and I washed my face after filling my canteen and an extra skin.

Walking back, I almost didn’t notice the body of the fallen Redcap – it was now a riot of red flowers. Barely more than a husk, the little plants had buried their roots through its skin and were sprouting all over the corpse. Another day and it would be gone at this rate.

Nix appeared a few moments after I noticed it.

“We should just get away from here,” I said.

“Where are the others?” Nix asked me, nodding towards the flower bed. “There were two more,” she said.

I glanced over at Bloodmilk, who was still sitting against the far wall where he’d been put the night before. I shrugged.

“You said they were dead, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “It’s what I gleaned from the divination, which means their killers are still in here somewhere.”

I pulled my mouth tight, reminded of what I’d wanted to forget. “We definitely should get away from here.”

“Holy moly,” I heard Cannon exclaim, surprise and shock in his voice. He came back into view, hustling from behind the island of vegetation. He was buckling his belt and shaking his head.

“What is it?” I asked. “Trouble?” More of these flowers, maybe?

“You bet it’s trouble. You know, I’m pretty proud of myself sometimes,” He said. “I can drop a load like nobody. But someone put a pile of pumpkin squash back there that would take a week to build u…”

“Shut up.” Nix said. She immediately walked away.

Cannon eyed me sideways, then hooked a thumb towards Nix’s departure with raised eyebrows. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“I said shut up,” Nix repeated without turning back.

I looked over at Cannon and shrugged.

He let out a quiet whistle of appreciation, shaking his head some more.

After we variously took care of the rest of our waking routines, we gathered our equipment and walked on.

It was perhaps an hour, maybe two, when we finally had some hint of our quarry - a spindly spider-leg on the floor, and a damp red woven cap beside it. We accelerated our progress as best we could, but a short while later Cannon brought us up to a stop with a raised hand.

“Trap,” he said. “There’s a tripwire on the floor right here, almost went through it myself.” He sounded peeved.

One after the other we stepped over the tiny cord, which was no thicker than a hair.

“How in all the Hells did you even see that?” I muttered as I crossed it.

“That’s my kind of magic,” Cannon winked at me.

“That not ours,” Bloodmilk said, “Much too small. Not sneaky enough.”

I tried to imagine a larger trap being more sneaky.

Nix had raised her hand to strike him, but she froze at the apex of the stroke and closed her mouth. Shaking her head, she lowered her hand.

“Little bastard’s right,” Cannon said. “This looks like gnome work.”

“This is like some kind of cosmic joke,” Nix muttered. “They just keep getting smaller and meaner. Like the legend of turtles beneath the world, turtles all the way down just getting bigger.”

“Yeah, but those turtles are real,” I said with a smile. “Gnomes are just a myth.”

“Like halflings,” Rendo added.

“No joke, fellas,” Cannon said. “Gnome infestations are bad news.”

Sered quietly looked ahead and behind. “What are our options?”

I shook my head, not seeing any but forward.

Cannon just waved a hand with a non-committal motion. “Can’t gas the little fuckers, don’t have the reagents for it. If we’re going on, just stay on guard. Keep your ears open.”

Fifteen minutes later the tunnel forked. Bloodmilk directed us to the right-hand side, and we proceeded down it.

Ten minutes after that we realized something was wrong. Ahead of us, a whispering, buzzing noise drifted down from ahead of us. Rendo was the first to notice it, but before long we were all able to pick it out.

“What is that?” Nix asked.

“Is it getting closer?” Rendo squinted ahead.

At that point, deep in the dark ahead of us, flittering forms moved about. I couldn’t make out detail, just that there were several of them. I only had an impression of a long distance down the tunnel.

“Gnome scouts,” Cannon said. “Cover the lights!”

We covered everything we could, leaving just enough to make out the floor before us.

“They’re getting closer,” he said. “Backtrack, go back to the fork and go the other way.”

“If there’s only a few of them, can’t we take them out?” I asked.

Bloodmilk shook his head. “No good, they go get more.”

Sered frowned in the near-darkness. “They are just gnomes. We can catch them all before they escape, no?”

“Those not common garden-gnome,” Bloodmilk replied. “Those deep gnome scouts. Ride cave wasps. Prolly have entire nest harnessed. You prolly not want to see when they swarm.”

“Back the way we came,” Sered said astutely.

We shuffled back fast, Nix casting some form of obfuscatory enchantment on our path behind us.

Once we reached the point where the tunnel had split, we shuffled quickly up the other way for a bit before slowing down to take stock of our situation.

“That’s the only main path to Ihnbahran,” Sered said. “We don’t know if this will take us there.”

“How much further is it?” I asked Bloodmilk.

“On main road we a day or so away, I think.”

Nix came up from the direction of the fork. “Those gnomes are getting closer. We need to decide now, fight or keep going.”

I looked at the little murderer. “Do you know this path? Does it go to Ihnbahran?”

He glared up at me. “No and don’t know.”

“Let’s keep going,” Rendo said. “I don’t like wasps, of any sort.”

General assent met this judgment, and we all made best speed up the tunnel. It seemed we made the right call, as the gnomes didn’t come far enough into our tunnel for us to see them.

“Gnomes are really that bad down here?” I asked Cannon a little later.

“And then some. One or two are easy to squish, but you let them get in place and start breeding, you need to fire the whole cave. Even then, you’ll miss a couple of pods and they’ll be back before you know it.” He grimaced. “Wouldn’t be so bad, but those little bastards can be really smart. They can rig a forge to blow and you’d never know it until it was too late.”

I made a point never to underestimate a gnome horde.

When we paused for food, Nix spoke up. “Guys, I know this way is nominally safe, but even our guide here,” he nodded towards Bloodmilk, “Doesn’t know if this is the right way.”

Sered looked serious. Not a big change, for him. “True. Let’s take stock of where we’re at.”

Cannon shrugged. “It’s a smaller tunnel, but it’s pointing in generally the right way. We’ve been descending pretty steadily on it, though, so at this rate assuming we don’t take any major turns, we might end up passing underneath Ihnbahran rather than into it.”

Nix tapped the stone she was sitting on with the butt of one of her daggers.

“I see it now,” she said.

“What?” said Cannon.

“What?” said Rendo.

“What I’ve been missing,” she said. “No spiders. Not even a web.”

I looked around. She was right. This cave was clean, and dry. Come to think of it, so was the other one we were on before.

“Okay, that’s a bit unnatural, but what’s it got to do with us?” Sered asked.

“Hmm,” Cannon pondered. “First off, means no Deep Elves. There’s always spiders around their spaces.”

He paused. “And while that’s good, it also means this is under someone else’s control, or an ooze or something came through here recently.”

“No slime,” said Bloodmilk quietly. “Not smell right for them.”

Cannon pointed at him. “Yep! Which means no oozes. So we’re in patrolled territory, not Elves.”

“Given our proximity, it’s gotta be Fomor,” Nix said.

“Yeah, what she said. Which means we’re probably on the right track. Either this tunnel re-joins that big one, or it finds its own way to the city.” Cannon was positively beaming.

“Okay, settled then? We continue on this one?” I asked.

“Indeed, seems so.” Sered nodded.

Only a little while later we’d proceeded from our pause when I started to get a bit of a prickle along the back of my neck. Something up ahead was bad.

Can’t say what tipped me off. Perhaps it was the bellow of agony from far, far ahead, echoing down through the tunnel like the sound of a tortured ox.

But maybe I’m reading too much into it.

We didn’t need to speak to one another, we just loosened up our weapons and put some extra speed on. Whatever it was, it was in a lot of pain – and if we didn’t get into a place where we’d quiet it down, it might bring scouts down on us from behind.

Our progress was not fast, but once we settled into a rhythm things progressed rather quickly. At least, they seemed to. Sybarron was unusually silent the entire time. After what seemed like half an hour of jogging, we entered a wider chamber lit with a softly glowing red lichen or moss. The room smelled wet, with a tinge of mushroom scent.

And blood. The smell of blood.

As we entered the room, Sered noticed it first – a huddled form against the far wall. In the dark, distance was hard to judge, but after a moment I realized this was far too large to be a man.

It was Fomor.

We all froze and went silent.

“What’s that noise?” Rendo asked in a whisper.

It took a moment to notice it, but shortly I realized it was the Fomorian, sobbing. I figured at first that it was simply having some kind of psychotic episode, but as we drew closer I began to make out that its clothes were torn in many places, and stained with blood both fresh and dried.

The clothing itself was dyed in deep purple, and had linings of cloth-of-gold as well as a variety of gem-looking baubles. Not the clothes of a peasant, I would think, but I don't really know what to expect from the citizens of the Fomorian community in all the Fae lands.

On hearing us approach, the creature looked up and towards us – its face, beneath its injuries, was twisted and warped, like a candle left too long in the hot sun. Its nose hung crookedly over a strangely-curved mouth, and one eye was set well above the other. It had one hand covering the lower of its eyes, and I could see a long cut reaching from its cheek up to its forehead beneath its hand. Blood and tears leaked grimly from beneath its fingers.

It recoiled with a start at our approach, and cried out in a deep, resonant voice full of pain, "Please don't kill me!"

Rendo and Sered looked at each other, and Rendo shrugged. "We aren't here to kill you," Sered offered.

Without even thinking, I knelt and unslung my pack, digging through it for a bandage, something that might at least cover that eye. Nothing I had for our use would work, so I pulled my last clean shirt out and doused it with half the contents of a tub of salve I’d brought from Adelhome.

I left my pack there, and slowly approached the giant. He struggled to a sitting position and raised his hand to swat at me, but I held up my left hand open and and the folded shirt in the other. “This is for your eye,” I said.

I think I heard Cannon mutter “What the hell is that idiot doing?”, but chose to ignore it for now. As I walked forward, the others settled into watchfulness.

It reached – he reached, I should say, for I could see it was a male now – tentatively forward. With my open hand I pushed his away, and approached more closely. I put my hand on the one covering his injured eye. “Let me see.”

The cut across his face was long, and deep on the skin. It crossed the eye at an angle, not quite ruining the orb, but certainly rendering it useless – and extremely painful, I’m sure. I slowly applied the makeshift bandage, and muttered a short incantation that set the flesh of the Fomor’s eye to knitting itself back together. I guided the creature’s hand back to the eye, so he could hold the bandage in place.

I stepped back and asked "What did this to you?"

"There is a monster here, it is killing me!" He moaned. As if remembering he was in danger, he begain to glance around with the remaining good eye, scanning the darkness.

I could hear the effect of this statement on the others without even seeing them. Feet shuffled, weapons slithered out of their sheaths. I heard Rendo slide an arrow out of his quiver.

“What kind of monster?” Sered asked.

"It comes out of the walls, it sticks me when I..OWW!" The giant lurched away from where it sat, and immediately began weeping. I could see nothing behind it, and from the exasperated looks on the others' faces, they saw nothing as well.

I walked towards the stricken Fomorian, wanting to inspect the wall where it had been sitting.

"DO NOT GIVE THE GIANT ANY AID!" A voice boomed out of...nowhere, it seemed.

I held up, considerably alarmed at the thought of an invisible Fomorian or some phasing creature coming out of the walls at me.

That was about when I thought I caught a glimpse of something moving in the giant's hair.

I took another step towards it, squinting.

"DO NOT GIVE AID TO THE GIANT, FILTHY HELLSPAWN!" The voice returned.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?" I called out at the ceiling.

"THE GIANT IS MINE, YOU SHALL NOT TRY TO TAKE IT OR I SHALL SLAY IT IMMEDIATELY!"

Rendo called out. "Is it for sale, then? Would you part with it at a price?"

Without preamble or ceremony, something dropped to the floor from within the giant's hair, landing behind it, and trotted out to face us - a gnome, dressed in raggedy dark leather armor with all manner of gear attached to it, tiny needle-like blade held ready. It couldn’t have been more than a foot and a half in height. "He's mine, I tell you, and you'll not have him! I captured him myself, and I'm going to take him home to Dachlan! We shall torture him and kill him, carve off the meaty bits and eat them, and turn his skin into blankets and bags and other usefuls!!"

Its voice was tight and high, and I found myself wondering how it managed to sound so loud and deep while it was hidden.

The giant, seeing the tiny little armed villain, scuttled back against the wall, raising its other hand defensively.

I stifled a bit of a laugh at the vermin's bravery. I could see from his cunning little eyes that he was sizing us up, and didn't like the odds. Nice bravado, though.

"Then he is of measurable value to you," I said. As I spoke, Nix melted into the shadows of a side wall, her eyes slitted with concentration. The others fanned out in a semicircle behind me.

"That will depend on the value you measure, dirty halfbreed!" He stuck his little sword in my direction, snarling a bit.

“Gold, silver or steel?” Rendo asked. His fingers twitched carefully, I could tell he was ready to draw and fire if it became necessary.

“Nothing for you, human trash!” The tiny creature spit in Rendo’s direction. I found myself chuckling again under my breath.

Nix appeared behind the sobbing giant, resting a hand on its ankle, where a particularly nasty gash across its calf ended.

The gnome must have caught sight of some motion there, as it swung partially back and raised its other hand with a stone ready to throw. On seeing her, its eyes went wide as...well, wide for a gnome. It staggered back a couple steps while stammering out "Lady Fae! Lady!" He immediately dropped the stone he’d held, licked his palm, and ran the wet hand through his hair. "If I had known you were traveling with this rabble I would have...I would have been prepared!"

Nix stepped towards the tiny assailant, and as she did I sidled in closer to the Fomorian, whose sobbing had abated and who was watching this exchange with reserved fear. The tip of the gnome’s blade followed me, as did an occasional squinting glance.

Nix glanced at us, not knowing how to react to this. "Fae? Prepared for what?"

"Prepared for your royal presence! I would have washed my feet!" The gnome actually lifted one up and held it out for her to see. He must have immediately realized he was displaying a filthy foot to her, because he snatched it back under him a moment later. When he hid it behind the other, he got caught up trying to hide one dirty foot behind the other, and it almost became like a dance step, first one foot hiding and then the other. Finally, he swore something in what I assumed was a gnomish language, and threw his hands up in the air with exasperation.

Cannon picked up fast - for a Dwarf, he certainly was quick to hit stride in the conversation. "The Lady Nix is best addressed as 'My Lady,' peasant. And she is not entertained by your feet."

The gnome looked almost as stricken as the Fomorian. "I am sorry, My Lady. I cannot dither here, I must take my prize back to Dachlan, and prove how mighty I am!"

Cannon looked over at Nix. “This little one did not realize you were an elf, or that you were royalty passing through,” his eyebrows wiggled several times as he said this.

She apparently had caught on to his drift, adjusting her hair to ensure her ears remained out of sight while adopting an imperious look on her face. "I am interested in your prize, little one. Where did you find him?"

He squeaked out, "I hunted him in these tunnels, and captured him myself! I had no help at all!" He looked curiously stoic as he said this. Given the look of some of the injuries on the giant, the blades that caused them would be fully the size of the gnome himself.

"I see. What price would you set on it?" Althea gestured in the giant's direction.

"What would you offer me? He is a Fomorian king! I will take him home and eat his bollocks! Gain his power!"

Sered jiggled his pack, looking first to Althea and then to the gnome. "My lady, we have this jewelry we recovered from the tower floor after dealing with the lamia, perhaps a share of that would repay the gnome for his find?"

"Jewelry??" The gnome's eyes grew wide before it wizened up and adopted a skeptical face.

Nix walked over to Sered, and reached into the sack he held out, withdrawing a silver necklace set with yellow stones. "Indeed, little hero. Perhaps this would repay you for your efforts."

By now I'd reached the Fomorian, and tried to put a reassuring hand on his arm. He glanced down at me uncertainly, wincing around his wounded eye. Fresh tears ran from behind the quickly darkening fabric of my shirt.

“Just relax and close that eye if you can, I won’t let him hurt you any more,” I whispered to him.

Nix held out the necklace to the gnome, gingerly bending down with her arm outstretched. Quicker than I could follow with my eyes, the gnome snatched it from her hand. I was actually a little alarmed at how close he got to nicking her with his blade. Down here, who knew what poisons the little creature might be trailing around with?

"Hmm...real silver," he said, looking closely at the stones. "What else would you give me for it?"

For some reason this set me off. I felt the rage build up in me, and I drew Sybarron from its sheath and took a fast step towards the little creature, raising my voice and flaring out my will with an old Shadrim enchantment. "You will accept what the princess has offered you, and if you are extremely lucky, she may knight you for your gallant capture of this creature, but you shall not question her generosity again!”

He looked back over his shoulder at me quickly, a glance more to measure the distance between us, then back to Nix. Almost as suddenly, he must have realized what he'd seen, as his head snapped back to me with an audible clicking sound. I'd done a good job at frightening him, he almost dropped the necklace.

We may not be pretty, but by all the Hells, we Shadrim are very good at looking mean.

"Um...I...umm...haa...yes, okay. Yes. How silly of me! For the princess to travel with a devil lord as her servant I should have never...umm...ahhh..." He grew considerably paler as he spoke. The point of his blade returned to me, and he took a few steps back.

I held a finger to my lips. “Shhh.” Slow purple light hovered behind Sybarron as I drifted the blade between us.

Nix had stood, wandering back to Sered and the others. She had had a quick huddle with Sered and Rendo, after which Sered handed her his great sword. "Come forward, little one, and tell me your name."

His head turned to Nix, but his eyes stayed on me. "My lady?" He almost whispered it, and the second syllable of 'lady' came out with a little crack.

"What is your name? I can hardly call you Sir Whoeveryouare." She held the sword out to her side.

"Sir?" he croaked.

"Indeed, for that is the title knights wear, is it not?"

Comprehension dawned on the little creature's tiny face. It jammed the necklace into its jerkin and sheathed its sword. "Mad Jack, that's my name. Mad Jack."

Sered prodded gently, "My lady."

The gnome started, actually almost left the ground, his whole body jerked. "My lady!"

"Kneel, Mad Jack," Althea said. He did, and bowed his head to look at the floor.

I half-expected her to simply slice him in two, but she laid the flat of the blade against each of his sides in turn. Remarkably good control, I thought, since that huge sword was easily wider than the gnome in the first place. "I knight you Sir Mad Jack, protector of the princess of," she hesitated a moment, "Moldarovia." I mouthed Moldarovia? at her, to which she just shrugged. "Arise, Sir Mad Jack."

He practically levitated off the floor, he sprang up so quick. "Do you have a favor?" He asked immediately.

"A favor?" She didn't know what he was on about.

"Yes, a favor, a trinket of yours for me to carry into battle! To show the people of Dachlan how mighty I am!"

"Ahh, a favor, yes, that would be fitting, wouldn't it?" She patted herself down, looking for something suitable. Came up with a handkerchief of some kind, and offered it to the little creature.

He snatched it almost as quickly as he had the necklace, and backed away, sniffing into it like a dog on a hunting trail. "They will all see me now, how mighty I have become! No one will call me just Mad Jack any more, I am Sir Mad Jack!" He angled towards one of the side tunnels. "If you come to Dachlan, remember to see me! I will be your knight! Sir Mad Jack!" He proceeded to wrap the kerchief around his neck, tying it tightly. It trailed over his back like a cape.

Before I even realized what had happened, he'd zipped off into the dark. His cackling laughter echoed back to us for a few moments more before following him into the deep.

I turned back to the Fomorian, who was visibly more relaxed now that his antagonist was gone. He held the bandage to his eye with one hand while propping himself up with his other.

"Thank you for that, I think." He finally said, the voice a deep basso rumble. "What do you plan to do with me?" A hint of fear was in that question.

We all looked around. Nix spoke up. "We didn't really plan to do anything with you," A couple of us nodded.

It inhaled, a sound like a smith’s bellows inflating. "Then indeed, thank you. Now, who are you?"

Sered answered first. "We are the Grey Wayfarers, an adventuring company from the town of Adelhome in the Middle World. And you are?" The rest were gathering up. I worked another healing charm on the giant, closing the two nastiest-looking wounds and giving a little brighter color to his skin.

"I am Zur Nav, fifth child of Ihnbharan.”

Nix’s head snapped to look at the giant. “Child of Ihnbharan?”

The giant nodded very slightly.

“You are an heir to the throne then?” She asked.

Again a nod.

“Then what are you doing out here, a prince in your land?” Sered asked.

The giant braced its free hand on the floor and stood slowly. It did its best to straighten out its clothes, which I saw now were very rich indeed.

"One of my brothers did this, tried to kill me. I fled, and escaped him, only to become trapped here by that monster whom you…you just dealt with.” A shudder went through its body as it said this.

“I was almost certain of my escape, but to be brought to helplessness by such as that, is...embarrassing." He almost shook his head, but apparently that caused too much pain. “My standing would suffer should it ever become known.”

“What monster?” I asked innocently. “I see no monster here.”

His one good eye fixed on me. “Thank you.” It shrugged the arm holding the bandage to his face. “And thank you.”

I just nodded acknowledgement.

"Why would your brother try to do this to you?" Rendo asked.

"It was but a misunderstanding. I'm sure this is all cleared up now." He looked at his arms, where deep cuts had been made and scabbed over.

"They will think you dead now, won't they?" I asked.

"Yes, for now. Why do you say 'they'? I did not mention any others." He eyed me carefully.

I sped through a few options on how to rescue this conversation. "We travel to the city, it is new to us. It behooves us to learn as much as we can in advance of our arrival. We knew of several children of the king, and if one of them tries to kill another, surely he would not act alone."

He seemed to accept this. "It is a misunderstanding, as I said. My brother was under the influence of his golor, it has in all likelihood passed now. Still, I would be most appreciative if you did not mention my residency among the living to anyone when you reach the city."

He looked over us slowly. “So you are going to Ihnbharan, yes?"

"As a matter of fact, we are." Sered was sheathing the sword Nix had handed back to him. "Would you like to accompany us? It would seem safety in numbers would be wise."

"I would be grateful for that, and I offer you shelter in my palace. I would like to reward you for saving me." He nodded, gently peeling the bandage off his eye with a little gasp and looked at it before replacing it. He strode slowly up among us.

"My siblings. We have a slight...altercation among us for now." He said.

I sheathed Sybarron. “We had heard something of this, yes.”

“How much do you know?” The giant’s eyebrows lifted with a little surprise.

“Only what this one would tell us,” Rendo said, pointing out Bloodmilk where he sat against a wall near the entrance.

Zur Nav’s good eye followed where Rendo pointed. Seeing the Redcap, the eye widened and a rumble went through his body. Before any of us could even speak up, he took two great strides towards the pixie.

Bloodmilk raised his bound hands up and tried to struggle to his feet, but it was too late. With one swing of his free hand, Zur Nav brought the butt of his clenched fist down on the little Fey.

The crunch of bone was unmistakable across the room.

The giant pulled his fist back up, and it did not fall again. What was left of Bloodmilk bore an ironic resemblance to his name.

Zur Nav muttered “Tell that to Flay, filthy little spy” and stood straight. Then, wiping his hand repeatedly on his trouser leg, he turned back to us. The frown upon his face quickly dissolved into something that looked almost child-like, his eye darting guiltily down and then to us, suddenly conscious of what he’d done.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Did he owe any of you something?”

“Guidance to Ihnbharan, that’s all,” I said.

“Then I will assume that debt.” The giant replied.

“How far?” Asked Rendo.

“A few hours walk, maybe more,” Zur Nav replied.

I kept myself from smiling at the transactional nature of the Fey. Sered spoke up from a few steps behind. "We don't visit Ihnbharan with the intention of getting mixed up in the games of royalty." At the utterance of the word 'games', Zur's eye grew wider and he slapped his free hand against his stomach.

His voice seemed tremulous, almost overeager, as he interrupted. "Ohh, but I LIKE games!" His hand tapped up and down his chest quickly, unconsciously. In a fraction of a second, his face crunched down, obvious will going into his effort to lock down the unstable parts of his mind.

Loosening my grip on Sybarron, I added. "We would like to continue to speak with you, and take advantage of your invitation, but we are on other business first."

"What other business do you have in Ihnbharan?" It was Zur's turn to be wary now.

Sered answered him. "It might be of some benefit to you, given the circumstances here. We cannot go into the nature of it at length, but it perhaps can lead to business between us while we are there."

Nix looked up at the giant. “May we speak among ourselves privately for a moment?”

Zur Nav raised his free hand, open, and turned to look down the tunnel from which we’d come. His other hand remained pressed carefully to his face, over his eye.

We huddled together haphazardly, eyeing each other carefully. Rendo’s gaze never left the giant, though he stood among us.

“Well?” Sered asked.

“He seems to know the way,” I said. “And he is royalty.”

“Reward came up,” Cannon added.

Nix looked back, and smiled. “I’m tempted to guard him home just to pay him back for killing that little tick.”

I frowned. “Let’s not go into that. I did promise that little prick we wouldn’t hurt him.”

Cannon thumbed toward Zur Nav. “He isn’t we.”

“You could be a fairy with logic like that,” I said.

He grimaced at me. “Them’s fightin’ words,” he said.

“Guys, this is all well and good, but what are we going to do here?” Nix broke in. She was rearranging her cloak, and rubbing her hands with some kind of dust. “It seems obvious to me that we have to use this fellow as our guide now, otherwise we’re probably lost and we go home at best.”

“True enough,” Sered said. “Are we agreed?”

We all indicated our assent.

“Can we talk about the elephant in the room, now?” Nix said.

“Huh?” Cannon looked puzzled.

“It means, oh never mind – the thing we aren’t talking about but we all see here.”

“Him being one of the royals,” Rendo said.

“Yeah,” Nix agreed. “Dorad is lined up with Flay Gaz, right?”

“Mmm,” Cannon was the only one who spoke.

“And this guy just squished Bloodmilk over there, and did you hear him? He said something angry about her when he did it.”

Sered began to nod slowly.

“We might have more than a temporary ally here,” Nix finished. “This could be a good partnership.”

My tail twitched a little, I think on its own. “Let’s think about that for a while. We’ve got some time yet before we reach the city.”

Sered looked pensive. “I like it, but Az is right, let’s wait and talk again in a while.”

He turned back to the giant. “Zur Nav, we would be glad for your help in guiding us to the city.”

The giant turned back to us, and his face brightened immediately. “Fantastic!” I think if he’d had both hands free he would have clapped with excitement. “When we get there, we can go to my palace, I can have rooms set up for you!”

I looked around at the others, and ultimately Nix just shrugged.

I said "Yes, we would be honored to accept your invitation, but we have another commitment to meet someone in Ihnbharan right away. May we perhaps keep our meeting and then visit you afterwards?"

He thought for a moment, and squinted while nodding. "You may, but please understand that this may introduce some...distance between us."

"We understand. I hope that we can regain whatever ground with you that might slip during that time quickly. It is not our intent to offer offense."

"I take none. I am merely...cautious. Yes, cautious is the word.”

Sered stepped toward him, offering his open hand. The giant grasped it and shook it gently, his enormous palm enveloping Sered’s hand and most of the forearm.

“Let’s be on our way, then,” Zur Nav gestured down the tunnel, into the darkness ahead. “It’s this way.”

A little while later Sered sidled up to me. “Meeting someone?”

I shrugged, and muttered, “Best I could think of on the fly.”

He nodded, and we spoke no more of it.

I stopped us every hour or so to rest, and so that I could check the bandage on the giant. My spell was having the desired effect, and the flesh had already begun to knit together. I wasn’t sure if he’d see properly from the eye again, but it wasn’t going to get infected.

After two or three stops, while I was checking it once again, he muttered quietly to me: “You’re very kind.”

I looked into the working eye, neutrally. “You don’t know me that well,” I grinned as I said it.

“Really, why are you so kind to me? Shadrim have never been friends to the Fomor.”

I shrugged. “Never were your enemies, technically. We had little interest in the Fae lands. Besides, today you were in trouble. We were able to help. You’re hurt, and I can heal.”

He shook his head. “You give for no reason. There must be reason.”

I stopped. The others were out of earshot. Thought about what I’d say. At last, I simply decided to tell him the truth. “I’m alone in this world too. My family, my people, they’re all gone. I survived a bad situation because of the kindness of strangers. Perhaps that’s the reason, I saw you in a similar situation and I felt the need to balance the scales.”

His face softened a bit. “So there is an exchange there.”

“After a fashion,” I said. “I prefer to think of it as a responsibility.”

The eyebrow that I could see went up in a question.

“I am noble born of a Great House,” I said. “I have a responsibility to ensure the safety of those entrusted to me.”

“But I am not your people,” he said with a slight frown. “You have no reach here. For that matter, your nobility is questionable, given that your empire died a millennia ago.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant.” I said. “It’s not about where I am ruler. My family taught me that those who need help should receive it, that it is our duty to help where we are able. It’s not just about where or who we rule.”

“That’s not the Shadrim I know,” he said. “Mostly thieves and scavengers, and the empire you once had would destroy anything that didn’t bow to you.”

I tried not to be insulted by that. “Yes, we did. Other kingdoms, other empires, they were weaker than we were, and couldn’t protect their people. So we removed their rulers and installed our own.”

“Funny way you rationalize that.”

“What do you mean?”

“They saw you as conquerors. Those who opposed you, you killed. You are too young to remember,”

I glanced sidelong at him, but didn’t say anything.

He continued. “But I was alive for the last few hundred years of your empire. That wasn’t protection, it was conquest.”

“It was for their own good,” I said. “They may not have appreciated it, but they were safer under us.”

“And do you dream of a day when Shadrim will rule again?” He asked.

I thought about it. “I suppose I wish for a day when we never stopped ruling,” I said.

“Well, that’s an interesting wish.”

I shrugged. “All I have for now.”

“I don’t want you to think I condemn your people. We would do the same as you, in similar circumstance. We tried once, we continue to. But we don’t conceal our intent – we want to rule. Some will be better under us, some will suffer.”

“Benificent of you,” I grinned.

He nodded. “We are Fae, we cannot lie. Not the way you can. What interests me about you is that you appear to lie to yourselves. I understand that even less than lying to others.”

I thought about what he said. About what I’d said. In a way, he was right – the Empire of Vorus did profit from its conquests. With the exception of the Arrolians, each of our conquered nations added to our wealth.

“I don’t know how to respond to that,” I said. “I think there isn’t just one answer.”

“What would the Porretrain say about their lives under your rule?” He asked.

“I don’t know who you mean? Who are they?”

He nodded. “That’s because they are all dead. Three centuries before your empire fell, they had a small nation on P’logrian, bordering the Gtorrian steppes. Your emperor conquered them, but they would not submit to Shadrim rulership. So they were slaughtered, to the last. Was that making them safer?”

I frowned. I never had heard of these Porretrain. “If this is true, then of course not.”

“It is true, I have a preserved head of one in my trophy room.”

I didn’t ask what it was doing there.

“So why not be honest about it and just accept that you conquered your lands?”

I shrugged. “I suppose I never thought about it,” I said.

He nodded. “We Fomor, we fight our nature constantly. To see clearly through the fog of golor we have to use the truth, like a knife. It cuts away the fantasy of our world. Your empire might have survived if you used it similarly. Dishonesty – even tales that comfort you – makes you blind.”

I looked up at him as he sat up. “Thank you for this,” he pointed to the bandage on his eye. “Consider what I’ve just told you. You can accept it or not, it makes no difference to me. But it is partial payment in return for what you’ve done for me here.”

He smiled and turned away, leading us further into the deeps.

(All content here, outside of those elements attributed otherwise, is copyright (2025-) Thomas Theobald. With the exception of AI training, personal use with attribution is granted.)