by Joe Jackson
She had the attention of most of the village with those words, as quiet as the air had grown while everyone ate. “I failed you, and I failed your daughter. I made a promise that I’d bring her back home after we went to see Sekassus. At the time, I didn’t know that her life was the payment I was bringing Sekassus, but when I found out, I wanted to escape with her and bring her back here. And in hindsight, I should have.”
“Please, Karian, do not trouble yourself with such thoughts,” Cestriana insisted. “You did what you could, far more than what was expected. Neither of us understood at the time, but you are not to blame.”
Kari nodded but continued her train of thought. “My husband died just a few moons ago,” she managed without a sob or breaking down in tears. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose a child, but I’ve lost my mate, and I understand how many of you feel with your children or mates being sent off to war. While I don’t know what you feel, Cestriana, I understand just how much it must hurt. So to you, I make a new promise.”
The demonhunter paused and looked to King Morduri, who sat silently, waiting for her next words. “Though it may take me the rest of my life, Sekassus will pay for what he’s done not just to your daughter, but all the other vulkinastras he’s killed.” As she’d hoped, the blue glow of Zalkar’s symbol cut through her clothes and armor. “I make this promise before you, before your people and king, and before my deity, Zalkar the Unyielding. And though it may not ease your pain at all, know that the woman whose life your daughter ransomed will play a large part in bringing about Sekassus’ downfall.”
The mallasti woman looked down for a couple of minutes before meeting Kari’s gaze again. “I appreciate your sentiments, but do not throw your life away seeking revenge for our daughter. The power of the kings is something I do not think you truly understand yet. King Morduri is gracious and even-handed, but the elder kings are vicious and merciless. King Sekassus would not hesitate to murder you.”
Kari bobbed her head in agreement. “That’s why I said it may take me the rest of my life. I don’t plan on doing anything foolish or suicidal. Not yet, anyway.”
There were scattered chuckles. Morduri rose to his feet. “Come along, Lady Vanador, we have things we must see to.”
Cestriana rose at the same time as Kari. “Please take care! Make certain our daughter’s namesake has a mother to return home to her.”
The two embraced, and though he kept his distance, her husband Amalikor graciously bowed his head toward Kari when she looked to him. The village gave a polite and respectful farewell to their monarch, and he promised to visit them again when time permitted. No words were exchanged about what he and Kari were planning, and the demonhunter was glad she had the presence of mind to keep her mouth shut. She had very nearly told Cestriana that Sekassus was soon to know the pain of losing a child, but such might have ruined everything.
She and Morduri departed north, covering their true destination of Rulaj, Tess’Vorg, which lay some days to the northwest. Kari was certain her endurance was about to be put to the test, trying to keep pace with the elestram king. The jackal-folk had stamina that lasted for days, allowing them to cover vast distances in less than half the time it might take a human or rir. When she’d first met him, Morduri had kept a slower pace, but Kari was determined to try to keep up with him as much as possible to make this visit to Mehr’Durillia as brief as she could.
Morduri was quiet while they walked the hills of western Pataria, but Kari caught him looking at her every so often. He was likely disappointed in her promise to Cestriana, one he probably doubted Kari could ever fulfill. He had said no words to interrupt her promise, though, and Kari wondered if he might be considering taking things one step further than simply killing Amnastru. The very thought of resisting the Overking might terrify Morduri now, but if Kari could show him the wisdom of taking one’s enemies a piece at a time, it might sway him.
She had a feeling about Morduri after their first encounter. He may have considered himself too weak to be of any concern to the Overking, but he didn’t see the whole picture just yet. Alone, he was insignificant to someone as powerful as the Overking, but he was potentially quite far from alone. Kari was intent on gauging the intent and feelings of many of the other kings to see where they stood – just not during a Council session, when word of such rumblings would likely spread.
King Koursturaux had hinted at deposing the Overking. Was she powerful enough? It certainly seemed so to Kari. And if Kari could align her Order, a sizeable army from her home world, and a number of the younger or “weaker” kings toward that same end, it might yield the result they all wanted. Mehr’Durillia might never know the freedom it once did, but deposing the Overking might spare Irrathmor and Citaria the same fate. As she’d said when speaking with Kris and Corbanis, she would much rather fight the Overking and his loyalists on his world than on her own. And that could all start with one malcontent – Morduri.
Emanitar was one of the oldest kings, and therefore almost assuredly the oldest living mallasti. Based on what Uldriana told Kari on her first visit to Mehr’Durillia, Emanitar had betrayed his own deity, Be’shatha, when the Overking conquered Mehr’Durillia. Or, at the very least, he hadn’t been able to stop the invasion. Kari was intent on meeting King Emanitar; if he had opposed the Overking but simply been too weak to stop the invasion, how much effort would it really take to stoke his anger into a rebellious flame?
That, of course, opened up other issues. There was something between King Emanitar and Koursturaux. Despite the fact that Koursturaux had helped destroy Be’shatha, she and King Emanitar had become kast’wasi – mates, for lack of a better term, even though it wasn’t all that accurate. And then something had happened to sour that relationship. Kari was left to wonder what the relationship was like between the two; it was cordial, based on the way they greeted each other at the Council session, at least. Were they enemies outside of Anthraxis, though? Or could Kari convince them to work together to depose the Overking?
What if this is all a giant trap? Kari wondered. These demons – or people, or however one wanted to refer to them – were so incredibly devious. The image of Evanja’s golden eyes boring into her stuck in Kari’s memory, constantly reminding her that the duplicity of the people of Mehr’Durillia was comparable, if not more impressive than the best work Aeligos or Eryn had ever done. The Ashen Fangs had planted not one, but two of their agents so close to Koursturaux that they could probably tell Kari what the demon king’s breath smelled like.
“So, when are you planning to yell at me?” Kari asked as they walked.
Morduri turned that amethyst gaze on her. “Why would I yell at you?”
“To tell me I’m crazy, or putting you in danger, or anything of that sort.”
The elestram snorted. “Honestly, Lady Vanador–”
“Kari,” she corrected.
He considered her briefly. “Honestly, Kari, I’m still not sure what to make of you. Your bravery is without question, I’m just not sure if it stems from ability or arrogance. I worry that your successes against my peers are lending you far too much confidence for any one individual to possess. You are of no use to anyone, most especially your family, if you are killed.”
She knew that. She wanted to explain it all to him, of her relationship with Sakkrass and the war raging on Irrathmor. She reminded herself not to wear her emotions on her sleeve or “think too loudly” as Koursturaux might say. There would be a time to reveal such things to her allies on Mehr’Durillia, but this was certainly not it. For one thing, she still wasn’t sure if Morduri was or would be her ally, and even if he was, such a fact being common knowledge could bring her entire set of goals to ruin before she ever got started.
“Like I told your people in Moskarre, this is something that may take the rest of my life. I’m not planning anything quick or foolish – well, no more foolish than it seems on the surface, anyway,” she assured him, and he chuckled. “I’ve only been here to your
world a couple of times, but I know how to read people, Your Majesty.”
“You may call me Morduri when we are not in the presence of others.”
Kari nodded. There was something to that permission, but she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. “The people here aren’t happy – not with the overall state of things, anyway. Your people seem to be happy, as do the people of Tess’Vorg, but there’s undertones of fear everywhere else, and the Overking’s war isn’t helping with that.” He agreed with a nod, but didn’t interrupt. Kari stopped, and Morduri turned to face her. “You and King Emanitar aren’t happy; it doesn’t take a genius to see that. But what it does take is someone who sees you as a person, and not some servant or puppet.”
The demon king nodded again. “And you want us to join you in some future uprising against the Overking?”
“And anyone else that’s tired of the way he runs things. I know, you don’t have to say it, this entire conversation is treasonous. But I’ve heard things about you, Morduri. Things about your father, and what the two of you had in common. You’re well-respected among your peers, even some of those above you in station, and you may be able to gain their ear without having to worry about being turned in, as it were.”
“You realize the risk that would entail for me?”
Kari gave one slow, deliberate nod. “I do. I also realize the risk you’re currently taking to avenge your mate’s sister. How much more are you willing to risk to avenge your people, your father, and even Be’shatha?”
Morduri closed his eyes and blew out a long, calming sigh. “Kari, I am only going to say this to you once. Do not speak that name openly here. There will be no warnings and no second chances should you make that mistake before the Overking or any loyalist, whether they be a king or a peasant. Your life will come to a swift and certain end.”
“Celestial Queen. Great Mother. Lifegiver. Holy Sibling,” Kari said, the demon king flinching with each utterance of one of Be’shatha’s nicknames. “What did she mean to you, Morduri? Or are you too young to even know who she was?”
“Failure,” was all he offered, and he turned and continued northwest toward Tess’Vorg.
Kari considered him for a minute, but then rushed to catch up to him. She could see in his eyes that he was finished talking for the time being, so she let the matter lie. They still had a few days until they reached Rulaj, and in that time she could judge whether to bring it up with him again. Of just as much interest was whether he’d want to bring it up with Emanitar. If they could convince the eldest of mallasti to take up such a cause, it might inspire all of the hyena-folk across Mehr’Durillia. And what a sight that would be.
For the briefest time, Kari forgot what she was even here to do for Morduri.
Chapter IV – The Spotted Lion
The nights in Pataria were cool but comfortable. Kari wondered what winter was like in Morduri’s realm, or whether they had winters at all. As she recalled her previous stop before she went to see Koursturaux, she realized it hadn’t been cold then, either. It pointed to Anthraxis and the nearby realms being somewhere near the tropics, or close enough to them. Kari supposed it would take a trip to one of the southern realms to find out for sure, but everything she’d heard and her friends had discovered said that would be a bad idea.
The primary realms of the south were Antumorgh, Vistarra, and Teradda, the homes of Kings Baal, Abaddon, and Baphomet, respectively. Where Kari could travel somewhat freely through the realms of Morduri and Emanitar without worry of being killed on sight, all indications were that the same would not be true in the southern realms. As a demonhunter, particularly of the rank of Avatar, Kari’s life would likely be in danger the minute she crossed the border into any of those kings’ territories.
It was safest to assume she was to be killed on sight in any of those realms. She wasn’t welcome in Sorelizar, obviously, or Arku’s realm of Si’Dorra. The realms of the kings who were also deities of Koryon – Sheila Darkstorm and Augrus Tiveron – were completely out of the question. She had to imagine she was probably unwelcome in most of the realms of the weaker kings as well, at least officially. Zaphatar, the realm of Baphomet’s son Garrivokt, was surely a bad destination, and Kalrossus, the realm of Xafastu, presented too many possibilities, most of them bad. Xafastu was believed to be the son of Koursturaux and the Overking, and if the Crimson Prince was as loyal to his father as Kari suspected, he couldn’t be trusted.
That left a few other realms, primarily the residences of the younger or weaker kings. Kari wanted to ask Morduri about his relationships with Lestanaek and Ouraggra, an elder erestram and an elder valiras, but bided her time. She had met with Koursturaux and knew Celigus personally, and suspected she’d at least be able to meet civilly with Arlerase if Celigus was truly his father. It was a decent list of prospects, all told, if she could meet with some of the lower kings on the Council. They might not represent much strength as individuals, but all together, they might give Kari’s plan a chance, however slim. It really all depended on how serious Koursturaux was with her comments about replacing the Overking, and whether those weaker kings would welcome a change in leadership.
And Koursturaux’s participation, Kari knew, depended on one thing: the Temple of Archons. Or, more specifically, on Kari letting her in. Kari was the final key to opening the ancient temple, but even after exhaustive research, it seemed no one knew where the other six keys were. Legend told of them being guarded by “powerful beings,” whatever that meant, but if anyone knew where even a single key was located or what guarded it, they weren’t talking. The only information had come from Kaelariel, and all he could say was that the seals would turn up when they needed to, and that his father had said nothing more on the subject.
Kari looked over at Morduri’s sleeping form and wondered if it was as easy as it seemed to simply creep over and kill him. Almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind, his eyes popped open, and he sat up and stretched. He didn’t give her a dirty look or say anything. He got to his feet and rubbed down his fur, ruffled from his sleeping position. Morduri padded away from their minimal camp to relieve himself, and Kari looked eastward toward the horizon, where pre-dawn was just beginning to lighten the sky.
Had he sensed what she was thinking, and perhaps just knew she wasn’t serious? Or was it purely coincidence that he’d woken up at that exact moment? Kari was putting less and less faith in coincidences these days, and considered whether it might be some supernatural defense mechanism that alerted a king to danger. They might not recognize that was what set off their nerves all of a sudden, but it might make them hyperaware of their surroundings.
Morduri still said nothing when he returned, merely gesturing for Kari to go see to her needs while he prepared breakfast. When Kari came back, he handed her some cooked meat he brought from Moskarre, and she added some trail rations to it for energy. It was amazing that as many differences as there were between them, they did have quite a bit in common. They were both hunters and outdoorsmen – at least at heart, for Kari. Their camp was efficient, they did what needed to be done in tandem without much direction, and they were ready to go before the sun ever crested the horizon.
Tess’Vorg opened up before them as they crossed the border, a broad extension of the golden plains that began along Pataria’s western edge. This was beautiful country: wildlands where what people resided there were sparse and lived off the land. The route Kari and her friends had taken on their previous visit to Tess’Vorg had shown only a few mallasti villages, clusters of huts where they could balance agriculture with foraging and hunting. The only major city they’d come across was Rulaj itself, though the urban center was impressive even compared to the cities back home on Citaria.
That was their destination now, but as expected, they were approached when they crossed the border. A pair of harmauths made to intercept them, and Morduri and Kari waited for the ram-folk. Their demeanor, which wasn’t hostile to begin with, turned immediately respectful w
hen they got fairly close. Kari wondered if it was the purple eyes that gave Morduri away, but it was clear the harmauths recognized him, for whatever reason.
They didn’t bow to him – he wasn’t their king, after all – but they gave respectful nods as they drew up before him. “Lord Irrasitus,” one of them said in infernal. “Do you go to meet with His Majesty?”
“Yes, and I bring a guest, someone I believe King Emanitar will be very much interested in meeting,” Morduri said cordially.
The ram-folk turned to Kari. “I remember her,” the other harmauth said.
Kari was glad they didn’t ask if the reverse was true. She still wasn’t very familiar with the ram-folk – or any of the people of Mehr’Durillia, to be honest – and so they still all looked too much alike to her eyes. She couldn’t even tell if the ones before her were male or female, which really underscored how little she knew about them. That, she mused, was something she was going to have to correct if she wanted to rally these peoples against the Overking.
“You are the one that caused all that ruckus in Sorelizar last year, are you not?” asked the first ram. Kari didn’t get a chance to answer. “Did you honestly spit at Sekassus’ feet?”
“And call his son a kaeshmor?”
“And kill an entire squad of his elite hunters by dropping a mountain on them?”
“And shake your rear end at them from across the border in Si’Dorra?”
“Um…,” Kari stuttered, not even sure what they were talking about. Had she spat at Sekassus? She doubted she’d still be alive if she’d done so. All she could remember of that day was the smell and sight of blood, so much blood, and a scream that still gave her chills.
