Empire of War - An Epic Fantasy (The Empire of War Trilogy Book 1)

by Victor Methos

  I shook my head. “Coward. If he’d done what I’d did, I would have his head on a pike.”

  “It was close to war, it’s true, but you know how your father is … persuasive. The Lord Fischer recognizes that is a war he could not win.”

  “Fine, let me eat at least.”

  “We’ll get the food to eat as we travel.”

  “Uhhg, if only I could kill you, Elfred.”

  “I’m afraid your father would be quite upset.”

  I got my food, slapped the wench’s behind, and went out to the carriage that awaited me. Fischer’s little palace was high in the mountains on a bed of sand and would be a long, boring ride. I thought I might pick up a whore or two to entertain myself on the way.

  2

  Traveling by carriage was one of the worst ways I knew to travel on roads that weren’t smooth. I would bounce around from one end to the other and be unable to sleep. I would eat ferris stems and that would relax me enough to be distracted, but it was still an annoyance. It seemed no matter how many engineers I tortured and threatened they just couldn’t come up with any better method of travel.

  Soon enough I grew so bored I was collecting bugs that would fly by the carriage. I would impale them on anything sharp and watch them wiggle before they would grow still and I’d throw them out the window.

  We came to a place in the road where slaves and their masters were gathered. One slave was bent down on his knees as his owner was taking out a whip. I opened the little latch and shouted for the driver to stop. The slavemaster looked to me and his eyes went wide.

  “Continue on,” I said. “We’re just resting.”

  He swallowed and then looked to the slave on the ground, who was shaking and pale. The slavemaster lifted his whip and struck the young man on the back, revealing a thread of blood. He struck him again and it appeared like a cross, and again and it was a star. He struck several more times before the flesh on the man’s back and ribs began to peel.

  Whipping slaves was an art, really. If you whipped the slave too hard, he couldn’t work and might even die. Whip him too light, and the animal would not understand the command. The slavemaster was barbaric and didn’t seem to understand the balance. I stepped out of my carriage.

  “Give me the whip,” I said. He looked down to it a moment and then handed it to me. “Get down on your knees.”

  “What, Your Grace?”

  “Get down on your knees. Don’t make me ask you again.” The guards behind me pulled out their swords.

  “Your Grace, I meant no—”

  I kicked his knee out from under him and he collapsed as I spun around behind him. “Take off his shirt.”

  The guards stripped it off and held him by the hands outstretched. I lifted the whip and struck. It hit the bundle of nerves at the base of the neck and he screamed like a little girl. The scream alone was worth this little diversion.

  I struck again, just underneath the arm were there was another bundle of nerves, and then the lower back, the spine, the ribs, and the ears. All my blows drew only a little blood. Not enough to worry about death or an inability to work. But the pain was enormous. His nerve-ends must have been sizzling by now. I envied him in a way. No one would dare do such a thing to me, and the whores I would order to do so had no talent for it. I would never feel the pain he was feeling and the euphoric ecstasy that would come afterward.

  “You see,” I said, coiling the whip, “you strike blindly and your slave will die. This man will not live much longer. He’s lost too much flesh. But if you hit the right targets, you can inflict maximum pain without damage. I dare say you went through more pain than he did but you will be right as rain by the morrow.”

  I flung the whip and grudgingly climbed back into the carriage as we made our way to the palace of the City of Sand.

  The city was enormous and I had no idea how far the palace really was. Ridgecrest was truly its own nation, and in fact had been so for millennia before my grandfather had conquered them.

  The second night we had to spend in a filthy inn. Inns and taverns were set on the sides of all the great roads of the Empire for this very thing. Again, if only we could come up with a better method of travel. But as it stood we would have to be thrown around like luggage and stop frequently at filthy little hovels to lie in their filthy little beds. The affair made me unpleasant.

  The innkeeper greeted us and spoke of what an honor it was and blah blah blah. Such a tedious affair to tolerate such fools. I went immediately to the kitchen staff. He no doubt had whores there, as all inns did, but what fun was it seducing a whore? Innocent little kitchen staff who thought they would be working a good day’s work for a good day’s pay and who instead fell into my bed made for much more amusing nights.

  The staff consisted of five women and three men. One of the men was young and handsome and one of the women appeared quite the beauty, though she wore the rags of a peasant. I smiled at them and turned to Gorb, my captain of guard, and looked at his milky disgusting eye. If he was not so efficient at what he did I would have replaced him with someone less repulsive long ago.

  “That boy there and that woman.”

  He nodded and took a step toward the innkeeper to negotiate the terms. I could just have them of course, but I’d found it more pleasant to pay for them, even if the innkeeper couldn’t rightly sell them. They just always seemed more … supple, knowing I’d paid good coin for them.

  We retired upstairs.

  The night was long and I had to rent the two rooms next to mine to ensure no one heard the screaming. It was rude to interrupt a night’s sleep after all, and not a very gentlemanly thing to do.

  By the time the sun came up, the woman was dead. I was sitting nude in a chair as the boy was curled up in a ball next to the corpse, trembling. Ultimately, he had been the one to kill her. The weapon he had used sat by the bed, a brutal looking device I’d had built specifically for me, with three metal prongs and various whirling blades. It was beautiful to watch and could give one a hypnotic spell if stared at for too long.

  The boy started crying. I blew out a puff of smoke from the enigma root I was smoking, a type of narcotic that caused calmness and mild hallucinations.

  “What’s the matter?” I said. “You didn’t enjoy it?”

  I stood up and lay on the bed between the corpse and the boy. “Look at this, boy. Look at her face. Even in death she maintains beauty. That is true beauty. How easy it is to be young and beautiful and how much more difficult to be dead and beautiful. That is the true test. And she has passed.”

  “I can’t … I can’t … I can’t believe I did those things. I can’t—”

  “I get it, you can’t believe it. You’re such a monster,” I said mockingly. “You brute, how could you do those things? She was just a young innocent girl.”

  He looked to me, tears streaming down his face. “You’re not human.”

  “No? I certainly feel human. Try this; find another one. Find another young maiden and ravage her and tear her apart from the inside out and drink her blood. Tell me it does not feel better each time. The pleasure is of shorter duration of course, but that’s to be expected.”

  I stood up and kissed him hard on the mouth and bit his tongue until it bled before getting dressed. I watched as he lay weeping, covered in blood, and I left the room.

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  3

  The next night of travel brought us to another inn. There were no maidens there. I couldn’t believe it. There was not even a whore in at least a day’s journey, the innkeeper told me. What a waste of a perfectly good opportunity.

  How foolish of me, I thought. I should have had a handy mix of maidens with me for this very contingency. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before. Regardless, I drank ale until I was spitting drunk and then went and sat outside. Elfred came out and sat next to me as I smoked my enigma and he didn’t say anything for a long time.

  “I’m so bored,” I said. “Ev
erything is just so damn boring. Even women are growing boring, Elfred. What am I to do?”

  “You will turn on yourself, My Prince.”

  “Turn on myself how?”

  “You will grow more and more depraved to the point that you can no longer live among civilized men. Your boredom will turn you into a beast and the more blood you shed, the more you will thirst for it. Eventually, it will lead to your death.”

  I was silent. “Well, someone certainly is in a fine mood.”

  “I have seen it before, Lucius. It was not long ago that I ministered to your grandfather as I minister unto you and your father. Your great uncle had such desires, such bloodlust. He grew to be a monster and wore the skins of those he killed. Even out in public. He was eventually assassinated, some say by your father.”

  “I just said I’m bored, Elfred. Don’t you think you’re being a little theatrical?”

  “No, My Prince. I have seen the same traits I saw in your great uncle in you. It will turn the same.”

  I looked out to the road as some men on horses passed. “So what should I do?”

  “You should change your thinking, the way you view the world and your place in it. You need to have a different framework from which to operate.”

  “And if I can’t do that?”

  “Then you must seek out adventure.”

  “Adventure?”

  “Yes, My Prince.”

  “This whole bloody Empire is mapped down to the cattle turds. Where exactly would I find such adventure?”

  “Might I suggest outside the Empire.”

  I was quiet a long time. “Outside the Empire … Elfred, how many men have crossed the Savage Sea?”

  “It used to be quite a frequent occurrence centuries ago, but it is unheard of now. A man would have to be a damn fool or a monster himself to do such a thing.”

  “What’s there? I’ve heard only rumors.”

  “Great tribes of cannibals, dragons, ferocious ape-men, orcs the size of buildings … shall I go on?”

  “Nonsense. Those are all fairytales brought about to frighten children.”

  “Have you ever been beyond the Savage Sea?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever known anyone that has gone beyond the Savage Sea?”

  “No.”

  “Then you are scarcely an expert, My Prince.”

  I puffed on my enigma. “Monsters, eh?”

  “Slaying them would alleviate your boredom, if of course you survived.”

  “Would the people see me as heroic?”

  “Of course, My Prince. If you were to take the head of a giant orc I can’t imagine anyone not seeing you as one of the greatest warriors that has ever lived.”

  I nodded. “You wouldn’t be trying to get me killed now, would you Elfred?”

  “Of course not, My Prince. I serve only you.”

  “Good,” I said, rising and slapping his shoulder, “’cause you’re coming with me. Get us the best ship you can and double the amount of Guards. Let my father and everyone in the emperor’s court know that their brave emperor abiding is going out to slay the greatest beasts he can find. Oh, and make sure we have some new maidens with us.”

  “I believe Lady Margaret is returning to Zeries with a fresh cadre.”

  “Excellent.” I smiled. “Excellent. Monsters?”

  “Monsters, My Prince.”

  I took a few more puffs and looked out to the road. Those men who had ridden by were back. They were debating whether to come in to the inn, having seen me, or perhaps they were contemplating a good kidnapping? Although they would be in for a rude surprise: my father wouldn’t pay a nester for me.

  “Get me my bow.”

  Elfred ran inside and came back out with a bow and several arrows. I stepped closer to the men and held the bow taut as I pulled back on the arrow, aiming for the man’s eye. I released, and the arrow made a sound like wind through rocks and struck the man through one eye and propelled out the back of his head. He fell over, instantly dead, as his friend debated rushing me or rushing away. He decided to hurry toward me.

  I took out the other arrow and pulled back, waiting until just the right moment.

  “Now, My Prince.”

  I didn’t move. He had his sword held high and was attempting a battle cry. He seemed intent on lopping off my head. I waited until I could almost smell the putrid scent of sweat and urine and horse emanating from him, only then did I release the arrow. His swords missed my face by a hair’s breadth and my arrow entered his throat and he was thrown off his horse as the beast made off into the woods.

  “No loyalty in animals,” I whispered. I watched the man die, and then went inside to attempt sleep. Though I knew it would not be forthcoming, for the first time in many years I was excited about something.

  AYSTA

  When we left the city, I gave my horse to Spit to sell, as well as most of my gold. I told him to buy a flat for he and his sisters and to never see his father again. I don’t know if he is going to do it, but he now has the chance and the rest is his decision. Fate hasn’t destroyed him; if he chooses a life with his father, it will be only his fault.

  I went to meet the Head of Household. She saw me and offered me a spot in her own carriage. I sat across from her as we began to roll out of Balor Gesh and I kept quiet, imagining that’s what some peasant girl in my position would do.

  “Your name is Aysta, correct?”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “You have great beauty,” she said. “Exotic. I too was cursed with it.”

  “Cursed, Your Grace?”

  “You may address me as Lady Margaret. And yes, it is a curse in many respects. It brings the attention of men, which is usually not a benefit to a woman in any point of life. Did your father take liberties with you when you were young?”

  “No, Lady Margaret. He was a kind and decent man.”

  “You are fortunate then. Such cannot be said for most men.” She was looking out the window of the carriage now. “They’re monsters, Aysta.” She was quiet a long time before saying, “There are things about the position you’ve taken that you will soon learn are not so pleasant. But you must put on a brave face. You must never complain, and above all you must never cry. That is what they want to see. They want to see you cry. They enjoy it. You must never give them the satisfaction.”

  We rode in silence most of the day until we came to a decent-looking inn. The guards helped us out of the carriage and led us inside. We began going through the rooms and taking the ones we wanted, the other guests forced to change if Lady Margaret thought their room was better than any other.

  We were settled in for the night when I was told I would be sleeping in Lady Margaret’s personal chambers. I walked into the room and saw that blankets and a rug were on the floor and two other young maidens were already there, laughing and playing. They were young girls of perhaps no more than thirteen years of age, and Lady Margaret was watching them from the bed, a melancholic smile spread on her lips.

  She held up an empty glass. “More wine.”

  I took the glass, filled it from a pitcher nearby, and returned it to her.

  “Sit with me.”

  I sat on the bed next to her and watched the two girls playing with some dolls and other trinkets that had been laid about.

  “I remember when I was that young,” she whispered.

  We sat like this for a long time until finally I looked over and saw she was asleep. The two girls were lying on their backs speaking in hushed tones. I slipped out of the room and went downstairs. A group of the Guards were playing remjat: a type of card game where you attempted to get your cards close to an arbitrary number without going over. As I walked to them I noticed a man I had not seen before. He was handsome, though heavily scarred, and had a hardened expression to his face. It told one to stay away. On his back was strapped an axe with the black stains of dried blood. I sat across from him rather than the Guards.

  “That seat’s
taken,” he said.

  “I didn’t see anybody sitting here.”

  “Nobody needs to be there for it to be taken.”

  I ordered a glass of berries with water. “Those Guards may not enjoy how threatening you look with that axe.”

  “That’s their problem then.”

  “They’re Royal Guards, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “And you don’t care?”

  “No.”

  “Well, aren’t we brave.” My berries came and I ate them slowly as I sipped the water. “I would highly recommend going to your room now, citizen. As they get drunker and lose more money, they will get more aggressive. And it is a capital crime to harm one of the Royal Guards.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “If you’ve—”

  “You!” one of the Guard’s shouted at me, “Whore! Get yer pretty ass over here and get us some more ales.”

  The man in front of me said, “I believe you’re being called.”

  I gave him a stern look, then I rose and took more ale from the cook and myself and a wench brought them over. One of the Guards grabbed my ass and whispered something filthy in my ear before saying, “Don’t go upstairs yet.”

  “You can’t,” another Guard mumbled, “not until the prince has had his taste.”

  “Fuck his fairy highness,” the man with his hand on me said. “I’m sick a caterin’ to him.”

  “He’s going to be your emperor soon. You should be more respectful.”

  “Fuck him and his daddy. They’re not out here sweatin’ and bleedin’ now are they? They just sit in their—”

  The other Guard withdrew his sword and put it through the man’s neck. The man gurgled and choked and fell over onto his back, his eyes wide like an animal that knows he’s about to be slaughtered. The other Guards burst into laughter. They were the only ones who could legally harm each other.

  The man bled onto the floor and the remaining wenches came out to clean up the blood. They didn’t touch the body but one of the Guards finally said, “Go on, pull him out and bury him. He ain’t one a us no more.”