The Cor Chronicles: Volume 04 - Gods and Steel

by Martin V. Parece II

  “Is this how Aquis treats guests from other lands now?” the merchant asked, his voice a rasping whisper as it tried to escape Joth’s grip.

  “Damn you both! Release him!” Rederick shouted, thumping the table with his fist as he did so. “Perhaps the actions of this day have proved to me the unworthiness of certain people to sit at this table!”

  Lord Joth loosened his grasp on the man’s neck, pushing backward as he did so. This caused a choked gargling sound to escape the man, and he clutched at his throat briefly. However, he seemed no worse for wear. Both lords righted their chairs and sat, fuming, but Red left his sword from it’s sheathe. He leaned it against the table, so that its hilt was easily grasped.

  “I do not know this King Parol,” Rederick said, “but I assume he is new to the throne. How dare he make such demands of Aquis, the nation that has kept the Shining West safe and free for centuries?”

  “Safe and free from what?” the merchant sneered. “We understand that Aquis goaded the Loszians to attack, and you were unable to defend yourselves. It is a wonder we are not all speaking Loszian right now.”

  “I see no reason to accede to Parol’s demand,” Rederick replied.

  “Ridiculous demand,” Red agreed hotly.

  “Then you accept war. King Parol will bring the full strength of our nation against you. After Aquis falls, the rest of the West will get in line.”

  “What strength?” Lord Joth sneered. “Akor had no armies to provide Aquis in our defense. How does it have armies now?”

  “We kept our armies in reserve for our own defense, but we have much more to our strength than our own numbers,” he answered coolly. “Even now, a golden horde from across the Narrow Sea masses in Theron. They should be ready to march any day now.”

  “Tigolean thugs,” gasped Mora.

  “We prefer to look at them as merchants of warfare,” the Akorite clarified. Cor’s thoughts turned to the man he once sailed under, but his stomach turned at what was said next. “They bring armies the likes of which you cannot contest, and at their head will be a gray skinned warrior woman worth a thousand of your Westerners.”

  “Does she look anything like me?” Keth asked, and Cor was surprised to see the younger Dahken on his feet. His palms were planted on the tabletop, and he leaned forward aggressively. “Her name is Marya, is it not?”

  “Lord Dahken Marya, and she is your better, just as King Parol is his,” the merchant replied with a jerk of his head toward Rederick.

  This time, Cor’s temper flared, and he found himself jumping to his feet. He moved around the table, and though he was not as large as Lord Red, the Akorite seemed somehow more fearful of the man with gray skin.

  “You return to Akor, and you tell Marya that she is not deserving of that title,” Cor blazed. “Also, tell this Parol that King Rederick bows to no man. Go back to Akor, and tell them both that I shall meet their army on the field of battle. And all of the Shining West will know who are the betters and who are the lessers.”

  Red and Joth thumped the table with their fists repeatedly in a discordant harmony of applause, and Mora joined them after a moment. Lord Trey simply leaned back and watched the scene in thought, while Keth looked to the room’s high ceiling for some answer that escaped him. In the end, it only mattered how King Rederick reacted, and the merchant emissary from Akor looked to the mountain of a man for response. Rederick stood, silencing the lords’ cacophony.

  “Talk of war and battle is perhaps premature, but Lord Dahken Cor speaks truly. The King of Aquis has never dared to call Himself Emperor of the Shining West, but he does not bow to your robber king,” Rederick said, and the merchant bristled at the use of the last words.

  “Leave now,” he continued, “and tell Parol that I will meet him face to face here in Byrverus, or I shall go to him in Theron. Either way, we shall discuss how to best combine your newfound might to ours to fight our real enemy – the Loszian Empire. Sovereign Nadav is again at work with plans to conquer all of our nations, and we need each other to survive.”

  “Akor has not once needed Aquis since the Cleansing,” the Akorite sneered in response. “I will take leave of you now.”

  The round man ponderously turned his round bulk and huffed his way to the door from whence he came with none of the etiquette or pleasantries generally expected by those in the room. The guard opened the door just in time to admit the merchant and closed it again just as swiftly after he passed through. Cor watched after him, staring at the closed oaken door for just a moment, and then he turned to find all eyes centered on him. He looked round at the variety of expressions as he quietly made his way back to his seat. The only sounds to be heard were of his boots on the stone floor, the soft muffled jingle of the chain under his plate armor and the skid of his chair as he sat and pulled himself closer to the table.

  “My Lord Dahken Cor,” Rederick said, wiping his left palm down his brow and across his eyes, “I’m afraid you have committed us to war.”

  “It seems we were committed to that path by the Akorite, My King,” Mora chimed in softly from his right, lightly laying her one hand over his clenched right fist. “I think the Lord Dahken simply made our position clear. It is our position, is it not?”

  “Aye!” blurted Red, and Joth nodded his head vigorously in agreement.

  “I’m afraid it must be,” the king sighed. “I can’t believe the Akorites would turn against us and Garod this way, and to bring an invading army of mercenaries from a foreign land as well!

  “The Akorites care nothing for Garod,” Walthur snidely stated. “They care only for the gleam of coin and the pretty way the sunlight causes rubies to sparkle.”

  “It’s true,” agreed Lord Trey, “but still… never has Akor considered such a scheme. It will open the door for the Loszians.”

  “Then I’ll slam it shut,” said Cor, again catching everyone’s attention. “I’ll deal with Akor quickly and decisively and be back to stop Nadav before he can even dare to cross the mountains.”

  “It will take time to assemble our forces,” King Rederick said absently. “We are still spread across Aquis to clean up Nadav’s mess.”

  “Then we must hurry,” Cor said standing as if he would depart immediately. “Majesty, give me command of the armies. Dispatch riders calling for them to come to a rally point near Akor, and I’ll handle this King Parol and my wayward Dahken Marya.”

  Several opened their mouths to comment for good or ill, but were suddenly cut off in astonishment as Keth began to speak, something none were sure he had ever done in Council before.

  “Majesty, My Lords,” the young Dahken said, “I believe I can gain us some small amount of extra time.” Every Counselor present turned their eyes and ears to Keth with rapt attention, many with interested amazement. A slight smile touched Rederick’s lips as he nodded for the Dahken to continue, and Cor again took his seat with an uneasy feeling of what was to come. “Let me go to Akor. I’ll leave immediately with a swift horse. Give me whatever I need to use the king’s horses. I will meet with King Parol, but more importantly, I’ll meet with Marya.”

  “Please,” scoffed Lord Red, “their newly made king won’t bother with you. And what help would it be to see his Dahken bitch?”

  Keth’s eyes flashed, and he set his jaw in anger for just a moment. He looked as though he may leap from his seat, but the moment faded as his cool logic returned.

  “I do not care about the king,” Keth replied, a hint of derision in his voice, “and you’re right, he probably won’t meet me. He doesn’t have to. I know Marya, I loved Marya. She’ll invite me to her bed immediately upon knowing I’m in Theron. Also, I know the direction her mind has gone over the last year or so, and she will not leave Parol in power for long. I’m sure that as soon as she thinks she can seize Akor, she will without a second thought.”

  “So,” King Rederick said slowly, “you plan to push her that direction. Is that it? How will that help if she lusts for power?”

>   “I’d think the change in leaders might create some sudden confusion,” said Trey from the side. “Dahken Keth, what happens if you never reach the her? What if you run headlong into an army of bloodthirsty Tigoleans?”

  “I expect the familiar traits of the Dahken race will gain me access past whatever armies have already formed. Once I reach Marya, perhaps I can reason with her,” said Keth, “bring her back from this path. If I can join her and her Tigoleans to our cause, we have the strength we need to invade Losz and defeat Nadav.”

  “Perhaps,” mused King Rederick, “but I think if she does take King Parol’s power, she will be constant on warring with us.”

  “Then, I’ll wait until our armies clash, and I will kill her myself,” Keth replied with finality.

  10.

  “Red will not be happy with your decision,” Mora said. She lay on her side feeling his steel like arms around her and his chest against her back.

  “Do you think it unwise?” Rederick asked.

  “Not entirely,” she answered, and she felt his body stiffen slightly. “Cor should lead. He has proven himself more than once, but I am worried about Red and Joth behind him. Those two have allied themselves on the Council.”

  “You think they would betray me?”

  “No, it’s not that. I am afraid they might attempt to control Lord Dahken Cor or undermine his authority,” she replied. “They are of the same mind, and they feed off of each other. Also, I think Red sees Cor as a rival.”

  “A rival for what?” Rederick asked, rolling to lay flat on his back with a sigh.

  “Power,” she answered, “and the love of his father. Do not misunderstand me; I believe that Red’s heart is in the right place. He believes in Aquis and Garod, but he has never forgiven you for leaving to serve Him. And now, there is this other, strong young man to whom his father shows much respect, even affection.”

  “So, what should I do?” the king asked.

  Mora lay silent for a dozen heartbeats before she turned to face her husband, the king, who regarded her quietly.

  “Send Red with Cor, but command Joth to stay here.”

  “I would that Cor had one other battle hardened leader at his back,” Rederick said wistfully.

  “He will have one,” Mora answered, and she stroked his stubbled cheek with her one hand. “He’ll have me.”

  “No,” he said, abruptly lifting himself up on his elbows to lean against the great oak headboard. “You are on the Council -”

  “As are Red, Joth and Cor.”

  “- and you are my wife as well,” he finished. “I would have you at my side, not doing battle against our should be allies.”

  “I’m also a priest, a Paladin of Garod,” she replied, steel in her voice. “Even maimed, I can fight for Him and for you next to the best of men. I hope that my status as a priest will help smooth the killing mood a bit, but also I can help bridge the gap between our Lord Dahken and Lord Red. I dare you to offer a better choice.”

  “I could never win an argument with Red’s mother either,” the king said glumly, staring ahead. When he brought his eyes back to her face, he saw solid resolve, but also a hint of hurt anger. “I’m sorry, my love. I meant nothing by it except melancholy humor. If you feel this is the correct path, I agree with you. You shall take Lord Joth’s place under Lord Dahken Cor’s command. Return to me swiftly.”

  “I hope we all do,” Mora replied, and she rolled to face away from him to sleep fitfully.

  * * *

  “Brenden will protect him,” Cor said. “He’ll die before he lets anything happen to Cor’El.”

  “I know,” Thyss sighed as they stood over their sleeping child.

  With the exception of Thyss herself, the boy was the most beautiful thing Cor had ever seen. While some found the contrast of golden hair against his Dahken skin unsettling, Cor thought it profound in its uniqueness. The babe’s skin and hair were still soft, softer than anything Cor had felt in years, again maybe with the exception of Thyss’ own supple flesh, but even hers was roughened in places, such as the callouses on her hands from wielding her wicked blade. Cor’El radiated heat always, never more than when he was asleep, and the blankets on which he slept had a half dozen small burn holes in the fabric.

  “You could stay with him,” Cor said as he fingered the singed material, “you know, to protect Brenden.”

  “You’re out of your gods’ damned mind,” she replied, and he didn’t need to look up to see the look on her face. He’d seen it too many times. “I’d sooner bring him along, but you will not allow it.”

  Cor sighed, softly running the back of one finger against his son’s cheek before looking up to face her. “I can’t stomach something happening to either of you, much less both of you. Promise me something.”

  “What is it?” she asked impatiently.

  “If this goes badly for us, get away. Blow back to Cor’El. Take him and go, go home to Dulkur.”

  Thyss suddenly hissed and spat phlegm to one side, and Cor knew he’d said something terribly wrong. She turned from them both to look out the solitary window they had in their new quarters in the Crescent. He merely watched as she leaned on the sill, staring off to the east, and Cor wondered if she dreamed of seeing her homeland, as he had often dreamed of seeing things on the horizon. He then realized that he had no idea at all why she had left Dulkur, but he had always assumed it was boredom with her lot in life.

  “There is nothing there,” she said softly, and then she turned to face him. Her almost feline features registered some sorrow, but mostly anger and disgust. “There isn’t a fucking thing there for me. Nothing! I have no home there, and nor would I want it.

  “For the first time in my life, I’ve found something I want,” she said as her whole body tensed as if she may strike an unseen foe at any moment. Something burned deep in her eyes, and it was more than the usual fire. “By Hykan, I want this home. I’ll crush anyone who threatens you, our son or our life together. I’ll reduce our foes to ashes and drown them in Nykeema’s tears. I shall rend the very ground upon which they walk, swallowing them in the abyss. I’ll choke the very air from their lungs and stand over them laughing as they slowly expire. I shall not run from our future, but fight for it with all the might of my being!

  “We three are one in my soul,” she then said softly as a tear slowly fell from the corner of each of her eyes, “and losing either of you would be as losing part of myself. I’d rather us die as one than one at a time.”

  Cor felt near to tears, and he crossed to her, enveloping her in his arms. He pressed her thin but strong form against him, and he could feel her warmth, Hykan’s warmth, even through his armor. He loosened the hold, though did not release her, and leaned back to look into her face.

  “You want him to come with us,” Cor asked, though he did not say it as a question.

  “Yes. Always.”

  “Brenden swore his life to protect him. He will want to come as well.”

  “I care not for Brenden one way or the other,” she replied. “I will accept his service, but with Keth gone, I think you need him with your Dahken.”

  “It’s true,” Cor said, and he kissed her softly.

  * * *

  “It is pure folly that you bring both your babe and your woman with us,” Lord Red said as Cor mounted an armored warhorse.

  The horse was a massive, impressive animal, a brown stallion standing at perfect attention as was befitting one of his station and training. His muscles rippled under the plates of steel bound together by steel rings, and Cor wished that he had spent more time learning to fight from horseback. The only movement or sign of emotion the animal made at all was a slight swishing of its black tail as Cor fumbled his way up the beast, bringing a mild look of disdain from Lord Red. The warhorse was from King Rederick’s personal stable, as were Red’s and Mora’s.

  “Not used to fine steeds, I see,” Red commented as he lowered a great basinet helm over his chain cowl. It seemed that
Red compiled a list of all Cor’s failings the more time the two were together. While there was no reason for animosity between the two, Red clearly considered the Dahken some sort of rival or competitor, a fact exasperated by the favor shown to Cor by Red’s own father.

  “No Lord Red, I’m not,” Cor answered from under his own helm. “But I promise you that I’ve led and killed from the ground as well as any man. Take care how you speak of my woman. Before you know it, you may be ablaze, cooking within your armor. My son, well, my son is my concern.

  “Now, if you’re done scrutinizing my every move, might we march off to war?”

  “You truly believe that Akor will push this war?” Red asked.

  “I don’t know much about Akorites,” Cor admitted, “but I trust what Keth feels about Marya. Also, I’ve known Tigoleans, and I don’t think I’ve ever met a people that take so much joy in bloodshed.”

  “You’ve never fought Northmen,” Red grumbled, apparently scoring another mark against Cor.

  “Nor have you ever fought Loszian sorcerers, giant spiders and hordes of walking corpses. Let us away. We have many miles to cover.”

  Cor kicked his horse forward, starting the beast into a trot away from the palace. The animal strutted a bit, clearly enjoying the pomp and circumstance of an armored warrior on his own armored form. Red and Mora rode behind him similarly accoutered, much to the quiet fuming of Red behind his helm. As they passed through the plaza, a thousand armed men fell in behind them. Most were on foot, but there were a hundred mounted knights in gleaming plate armor. Either ignorant of military etiquette or simply uncaring, Thyss trotted her horse until she rode beside Cor, their son secure in a sling around her chest.

  Byrverus lay still broken and crumbling in many parts of the city, but life had returned. People crowded and passed through the accessible streets not unlike the way blood flows through one’s veins. All stopped and made way as the force moved by; rumors of war widely circled, but this was no army. As Cor and his command passed through the city walls, they turned west toward Akor.