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Ipid squinted while his eyes adjusted to the sudden absence of the bag. Immediately to his left stood Härl, looking every bit his part: thickly muscled chest and arms bulging from his rune-painted leather vest, blond hair chopped into clumps, long mustache braided with black, and face generously scarred. The guards that surrounded them seemed to agree because their attention and spears were focused solely on the invader.
As his vision cleared, Ipid realized that they were in the courtyard of the Thoren Directorate Hall – a thoroughly uninspiring name for the substantial keep that had once been the Grand Duke’s seat of power. Ipid had been in this courtyard countless times, but he had never realized how large it was, spanning a good fifty paces from the outer walls to the fortress-like building they protected and continuing for the entire length of the long wall. Countless disorganized bands occupied the courtyard, lunging back and forth across the cobblestones with spears clasped in their hands. A uniformed sergeant worked with each group, but those veterans looked like they were trying to spin straw into gold, and Ipid suspected they had a better chance of doing that than turning their students – peasants, merchants, craftsmen, grandparents, children – into soldiers.
Ipid wanted to yell to the recruits to run – the only thing that their efforts would add was to the length of the death toll. At the same time, he knew that every hand would be needed to prove the Kingdoms’ honor, and he was guiltily pleased to see these few added to the effort.
Looking past the walls of the keep, he scanned the array of towers rising above the city in their vanity and opulence. The inner-most ring of the city had become more and more extravagant since the kingdoms had united, and the huge towers were the current trend in architecture. Though the towers varied in size and shape, they all ended in large conical roofs so that the inner ring resembled a colossal mushroom garden and reminded Ipid why he kept an estate on the other side of the river.
His attention was brought back to the courtyard by the appearance of a man in an extravagant uniform at the portico that marked the entrance to the main keep. Captain Alister Defours, the commander of the city garrison, had a markedly one-sided discussion with the recruit who had brought them. The captain cast looks of intermittent fear and curiosity at the captives as he spoke, but once he saw that he had drawn Ipid’s attention, he cut off the lecture, strode to face Ipid, and ordered the guards to cut his bindings.
Captain Defours gave a slight bow that Ipid barely noticed through his effort to restore some blood to his hands. “I humbly apologize, Lord Director, for the actions of my men in detaining you. I explicitly told them to treat you with the utmost respect. If there were not such desperate need, these would spend the remainder of their days guarding the pots in the company mess.” Ipid thought the captain’s apology sounded half-sincere, and he confirmed it as he rose. “I am sure you understand given the circumstances.”
Ipid could not have cared less. “Of course, of course,” he brushed off the apology. “It is for the best, I am sure. I would appreciate it, however, if you would also remove the bindings from my companion.”
Defours’ eyes popped. He glanced at the giant then stared back at Ipid as if he wanted both of his captives bound again.
“Captain, this is an official envoy of the invaders,” Ipid scolded – he did not have time for Defours’ intractability. “Just because he is from across the Clouded Range does not mean that he does not deserve the respect we would show the ambassadors of any other nation.”
Defours’ gaze continued to bounce from Härl to Ipid then back again in disbelief, and it took a withering glare from Ipid before he snapped his jaw back in place and signaled one of his men. “As you say.”
The men around them tensed as the guard moved to free Härl. Their spears came down, and their hands tightened on their weapons. Even Defours’ hand moved to the pommel of the sword at his hip, and he noticeably loosened it in the scabbard. When Härl's bonds had been cut, the guard jumped back and held his knife out as if he had freed a man-eating lion. The other guards tensed as well. Their armor and spears rattled expectantly, and Defours’ sword flew halfway from its scabbard before he was able to stop it.
Härl slowly raised his hands and rubbed his wrists as he assessed the situation. He stared warily at the men around him. His concern appeared to be more with the guards’ inexperience than with their skill, as if assessing which guard was most likely to trip over his own feet and lung toward him as a result. When the situation did not devolve beyond that, Defours returned his sword to its scabbard and the guards relaxed.
“Captain Defours.” Ipid had not waited for the excitement over Härl’s release to die. “Captain Defours!” He nearly yelled to get the captain’s attention. “We need to address the Directorate. I assume that they are already in sessions given what is happening outside the gates, but I will need some time to prepare myself. I think two hours should be sufficient. Please inform them that we will meet them at that time with an imperative edict from the invaders.”
“I am certain that the directors will get to you as soon as they can, Lord Ronigan.” Defours spoke with half of his attention on Härl. “They are understandably very busy, however, and I cannot guarantee that they will have time today. I am sure that they will appreciate your bringing in one of the invaders. We will have him taken to a cell immediately, but you can trust me, he will never know what is happening.”
“Captain Defours!” Ipid snapped. His finger rose and jutted toward Defours’ chest. “This man is the representative of an invading army that is sitting outside the gates of this city, a vastly superior army might I add. I do not think that it is the best interests of anyone for us to treat him as a prisoner. I can also assure you as a member of the Chancellor’s Bureau that such would not be the policy of the Unified Kingdoms. Further, I will address the Directorate at any time I choose. I am a member of that directorate and have the authority to speak for the Chancellor in matters of commerce. As such, you will ensure that they are prepared to hear me in two hours, or I will see that you are stripped of every rank and title you have ever possessed. Do we have an understanding, captain?”
By the time he was done, Defours was back on his heels and nodding vigorously. “Yes, Lord Ronigan, sir, I do.”
“Good.” Ipid tried not to show his relief that his bluff had worked. Though everything he said would have been true weeks before, the invasion would have thrown all that very much into doubt. And that was if he hadn’t been captured by the invaders. “Now, where was I? Oh yes, I will address the Directorate in two hours. In the meantime, I'll need a room where I can gather myself, and I think a bath would be in order. I will also need new clothes and a courier to carry a message to my estate.” Defours nodded to each request as if marking items on a mental list. “Give Härl a room near my own, bring us both some food, and have me summoned when the directors are ready.”
Defours took a second to process the long list of commands then motioned to a man standing behind him. The man ran to his side, and the captain whispered orders into his ear without taking his eyes off of Ipid. “Lieutenant Nuffield will see to your needs, Lord Ronigan.” He motioned to the handsome young man at his side. “Please let him know if there is anything further you will need. As you can see, I have many things to attend to. If you will excuse me?”
Ipid nodded. Defours turned and put as much distance between himself and his former captives as possible. The captain had always been an ambitious, political animal. Clearly, he saw this as a no-win situation and wanted as little involvement with it as possible. That was fine with Ipid as long as he did what was asked.
Ipid turned, explained the situation to Härl, then looked to Lieutenant Nuffield. The young man just stared at him slack-jawed. “Don’t worry, lieutenant,” Ipid assured. “Theirs is a language like any other. I am certain that you too could learn it in time . . . and very well may. N
ow, can you please show us to our quarters?”
Chapter 35
From Across the Clouded Range Page 91
