Traitor to the King
A Tale of the Benaga Sisters
C.S.M. Keating
This book may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the copyright holder.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are all products of the author’s imagination and are meant to be fictitious. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Content Copyright © Clare SM Keating 2018
Cover Image Copyright © Aurelia Cetinn 2018
All Rights Reserved
ISBN: 9781977053626
One: Virenheim
So the shadows lifted their veil and a titanic monstrosity was released upon the earth. All that stood against the calamity were felled like black wheat before a scythe until just one brave soul remained. With blade singing the song of death as it crashed toward the head of the beast, the First One was destroyed by the weapon of Lord Benaga, forever to bear the Orc name Klangschwert!
- History of Virenheim, Marguson Nelighan
Her brilliant blue eyes focused upon the target as she lifted the long, narrow blade above her head and readied herself for attack. Sucking up all her strength and throwing away all fear, the young Deep Elf maiden grasped the Dregg Skin hilt tightly, feeling it crunch beneath her sore fingers as she lunged. With a roar from the pit of her stomach and a single swing of the great silver-blue blade that gave a sound like a shrieking cat, the enemy’s torso was severed cleanly from its legs in a gentle thud. The warrior stared down at her defeated foe with a tremble of exhaustion and frustration, biting back the fear and the wish to rejoice over such a glorious battle.
“Well done Lady Damara, you put enough strength in the swing to separate the body but in hindsight I’d recommend you don’t put everything into one blow. The enemy is hardly solitary and there is never a guarantee of a noble death when fighting Orcs.” Hardened hands of the soft blue-silver shade of a male clapped together and Damara lowered her bravado to a more subdued and perhaps even saddened expression as she turned toward her tutor and her fellow students. Her gaze crossed over the multitude of students, late teenagers, who had witnessed her ability and heard the famous sound of her family’s swords. Their eyes were beaming with excitement and joy for the young lady, after-all there was no one in the whole of the underground city of Virenheim who did not love Damara Benaga for some reason or another.
Still, despite their excitement at her obvious strength and ability, Damara stared at her long thin sword in displeasure as she contemplated the great name of her family and how high expectations were for her. Her sudden depression was obvious to her instructor and the black-haired individual laid a hand gently upon her lavender skinned shoulder. He looked her right in the eye and she found herself glowing with pleasure at his words.
“Having had the pleasure of witnessing Benaga abilities before you’re well on your way to becoming as powerful as your late father.” The tutor smiled, hoping to alleviate the great burden upon these young shoulders. Damara was pleased at the assumption but still breathed a heavy sigh of regret before looking up to her teacher and stating, rather innocently, where her true concerns lay.
“Thank you very much Sword-master Tyfuga, but I was wondering if you think my skills are equal in any way to Anouk.” Damara stated, feeling a great wave of fear and anxiety rocket through the onlookers and her teacher at the mention of someone known for ability and power. Tyfuga seemed to blanch at the remark, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort before rolling phrases along his tongue. He understood the girl’s need for a comparison, but his experience of Anouk at such a youthful age had been in his own sword lessons.
“It’s not that easy to compare… you’ve got to remember that Anouk received her training from the age of three by Scaropan. She’s been prepared for battle long before anyone else her age could rehearse the Virenheim Oath!” Tyfuga grunted, rubbing the great long scar over the bridge of his nose that seemed to cut his narrow face in half. He looked very anxious over the matter as Damara suddenly dropped her posture to stare at the floor with the disappointment of a child. But despite himself, Tyfuga felt honour-bound to help the girl perk up. This was perhaps from his own reactions toward Anouk at such an age and how much he’d been cruel to her. “But if there’s one thing I do know… Anouk will be very proud to know her baby sister is already top of the class and fearless.”
Damara was in a good mood now the lesson was over, and her companions could see it clearly within her twinkling eyes and the sweet smile upon her face. Often boasted by the other noble families as the most beautiful of all the elf children born within the past hundred years, Damara was not one to care about her beauty too much. With her purple hair bearing streaks of silver trimmed short, her lavender skin mostly covered up in black dresses and her ample bosom being nothing more than problematic when running, Damara was content without vanity or pride in her appearance. She maintained the traditions of an unmarried noble to cover her hair, to keep her eyes dropped in public and to always be covered. All Damara wished for in life, above her deep longing for love and a family, was to be as brave as her father and elder sister and to be worthy of the sacrifices made for her.
She switched from the traditional tight-black trousers and billowing blouse of their training gear to a long black dress with pretty scarlet flowers on the pattern before shifting through her sack of items for her books to return to the library and the shopping list. Damara had planned to surprise her big sister with a special meal tonight and, considering Anouk was stuck out on Long Patrol till darkness fell, Damara had a lot of time to sort through the root vegetables, spices and meats of the stalls to find something with a rich flavour that would not make Anouk sneer. Like her father and sister, Damara made no point of her status as a noble and expected no one to treat her in such a way, she liked fancy meals but in respectful quantities that meant making friendships amongst females in the lower elf classes was not so difficult.
“Slow up Mara!” The familiar call of assistance from Karani, Damara’s best friend, encouraged her to halt before she stepped out of the wide cave lit with magic-enthused crystals, one of many rooms within the tunnelled city with such lights. Her eyes fell over the tight looking red dress of the light-blue skinned Deep elf female that was not afraid to show off as much flesh as possible, despite tradition. With brilliant pink hair that was barely covered in a white scarf, Karani was considered very attractive and the cute little beauty spot upon her left cheek only increased this factor. She was not as devout to their schooling and training as Damara forced herself to be, but she was the one person to understand Damara completely.
“I can’t hang about below for too long Karani… I’ve got to get back to the household before dark and start on Anouk’s meal. She really could use some attention at the moment, especially when she’s been so frustrated by the council’s decision on Loteg.” Damara stated in her sweet manner, waiting for her companion to step to her side and pat at her back in a playful but slightly suspicious manner that caused Damara to blush automatically. The pair of them then strolled out of the caves and along the clear-cut steps in stone downward to the main floor of the plaza and market place below. Here they mingled with a massive crowd of Deep Elves out in preparation for the evening activities.
It was quite clear though at some point, by the direction of Karani’s dark brown eyes and the way her long ears twitched with excitement, that she had noted someone of interest. Damara was unwilling to turn around and look just yet as they pawed through head scarves, she did not want to turn and see the person for she knew it was young Lord Jarl Kelvis, the one person Damara always seemed to blush around!
But before she looked in that direction to double-check the assumption, Damara patted Karani’s forehead as if telling her off before turning on her heel and stepping calmly towards the direction of the great library of marble, followed swiftly by Karani.
“Wait up Mara! Can’t you just hear me out for a moment?” Karani bleated, trying to encourage her companion to turn and look at the scene of the nearly white-skinned lord with pitch-black hair and jet-black eyes who stood with a terribly common looking female. Karani knew very well that Damara was up to date on all the gossip amongst the twenty or so noble families because of Anouk’s position as head of the household, and she wanted to know the truth to the rumours. With the Benaga or “Klangschwert” household being the next best thing to the king in rank throughout the kingdom, the Kelvis were the next household after and with no union having occurred between them, the assumptions should have been clear between Damara and Jarl’s futures.
It was the big news around Virenheim after-all, how the handsome and most eligible young lord had begged for an annulment to his pre-arranged engagement to Damara for the ability to marry a very common half-Deep, half-Light elf he met in the northern kingdom a year ago! It was something unheard of and impure to accept within any of the households, but Jarl had implored people of his great love. If the rumour was true then Anouk had consented and, with her position the next highest under King Otzell, none had dared to oppose her decision and it was even said that Anouk had paid for the girl’s dowry. Given the eldest Benaga’s current urge to disrespect everyone that came into contact with her, it was not hard to see her agreeing to such a thing; but Karani wanted to hear it from Damara herself.
She galloped after her friend down the long cleanly-cut stairwells and corridors within the painted stone caverns and tunnels of the city toward the marble building near the Above World Entrance. Although the library was older than the gatehouse of iron, the great structure seemed to have melded to its most eastern wall with ease and the guards on their post watched Damara scamper up the great marble steps into the building with interest. Karani huffed and puffed after her friend, desperate for an answer if only because she wondered if it was the root cause for Damara’s sudden case of self-doubt. Had she thought herself unworthy of such a man as Jarl because of Anouk’s agreement?
Karani had only just reached the top step when Damara emerged from the white building and she saw her chance. With a motion as swift as an eagle’s, Karani had swung her hand out and hooked her fingers around Damara’s left wrist, holding her in place without much difficulty. Damara froze, turning about nervously to look at Karani before breathing a heavy sigh as the dreaded question slipped from her friend’s pert black lips.
“Didn’t you tell Anouk how much you cared about Jarl?”
“She’d only have thought of it as an infatuation…” Damara growled gently and then anger flashed in her pretty eyes, causing Karani to release her arm and gulp heavily. The pair stared at each other in silence for a moment, as well as in realisation. If there was one rumour regarding Anouk that Damara could confirm… it was her utter disrespect to the traditions of marriage within Virenheim society. “…she said she met Jarl’s fiancée and believed there was true love between them and it was only fair they should have a chance.”
“Gosh… who’d have thought that ice-cold bitch would have belief in love!” Karani stated with a gentle smack to her forehead as if telling herself off for not knowing such a thing. Damara just shook her head gently, having long accepted that no one would ever compliment Anouk except for her power and ability to kill. It could not be helped; the Head Executioner for the King was rarely a beloved figure in society.
The two continued a conversation regarding the rules of marriage and love within their society and the options now present to Damara. With her betrothal severed and Anouk having no interest in progeny, the hope of the entire Klangschwert Warriors rested upon Damara… perhaps that was the reason. Perhaps Jarl was not suitable enough to produce a warrior heir; after-all Anouk had often referred to him as feminine and lacking in aggression and hatred, instead adhering to the religious obsessions of his father!
The conversations changed when they entered the busy market place on the third level thanks to the need to find the various articles upon the list that Damara had made. Most of the Deep Elf food included root vegetables, rye and dark wheat bread as well as meat – the only elf group to eat such a hardy diet with mineral salts given in a special milk drink. This milk was one that everyone drank once a week or daily when sick to give them all the minerals they needed and the keen ability of their eyes. There were many things to consider when making a meal for a member of the noble household, tradition stated Damara would receive a beating and even risk being shaved bald if her food did not please her sister!
“Anouk’s not too difficult to find things for to eat, one of her favourite things is elk meat. In fact, she likes to hunt it herself with the Dreggs at night when she can, but we don’t have any meat left so I will have to get her some here. We also need to find something she can eat with it, the bread is always good, and any hot spices imported in are things she likes, not to mention yams and potatoes. Anouk also likes sweet things, so if we can make her butter bread she’d really love it!” Damara stated with a pleasant smile and her companion gave a gentle chuckle of amusement in return. Although Karani had every excuse to leave Damara here, she had been an orphan all her life and had not lived in a household, meaning any offer to visit the Klangschwert House was worth any risk of meeting danger beyond the second dam.
Karani and Damara had rushed around the bustling market stalls in search of the traders with the best quality meat and as much as Karani knew the best choices for the other items on the list, she had never really had elk meat before and had no idea what she was looking for. Stepping past the varied elf forms of the beings living within Virenheim they made a point to avoid the warriors of the Royal Core, fighters whose lives belonged only to their king, who eyed them lecherously through the red hoods they wore when amongst the market places. Damara felt her skin crawl at every set of eyes that roved over herself and her friend, the Royal Core were the only beings that respected only their general and their king, forcing others to obey the laws they did not and as crude and violent as the Orcs they were created to battle.
Damara ignored them as much as she could on her way around the meat stall; she knew that her position and rank were usually enough to deter anything more than cat calls. However, Karani did not have such a defence and a few individuals were starting to step a little closer to them. Considering their positions and their current general, there had been a rise in recent violent crimes attributed to these so-called guards; but due to the increase in their death rate on patrol the council kept looking the other way. However, their interest in this incident was clear and Damara knew that her friend was at risk unless she did the one thing that brought fear into the hearts of everyone within the country.
“We should hurry up Karani, Anouk will go ballistic if she comes home and we’re not already settled. Do you remember what happened last time when we just spent too long chatting with Master Verison in the library? I can’t believe she dared to circumcise him right there and then!” Stating this whilst viewing a variety of bound meats seemed to do the trick and immediately made the two hooded figures freeze. Karani turned to her friend and gave a shuddering expression at the memory. Sadly, such a thing was not a lie and caused because Verison had previously assaulted one of their classmates that lived and worked as a maid in his household. Everyone had remarked on how lucky he had been to escape a full castration and, of course, the Head Healer had sensed Anouk’s rage and been quick to get on scene and neaten up the intentionally clumsy job!
Verison of course had lost position and power; in fact, he was still serving jail time for his actions, so the story was terribly well known. It was also considered one of the classic examples of Anouk’s foolish manners and tendency to forget her status amongst the beings
of Virenheim. Well… it was supposed to be beneath her to get involved in such petty gossip and home matters, but as the Head Executioner Anouk had decided to go on ahead without telling anyone anything. When Karani figured out the reason for such words, she shuffled closer to her friend and the pair of them sniggered over the amusement gained in the guard’s reactions.
Their laughter did not last long however as their purchase and stories of Anouk’s foul temper were cut short by a long bellowing sound that rattled the rocks. Sending a great pulse of excitement and terror through the neighbourhood, the stalls were quickly packed up and everyone on the street darted into the wide tunnels within the layered rocks of the wall for protection. The guards came out and surrounded the main square as Damara and Karani were ushered into the same tunnels, although they were trained enough to engage in battle if necessary. Damara and Karani were able to wiggle to the front of the crowd and they stood close to two familiar figures that would eagerly give them information if they asked, even if they had recently been promoted into the Core.
“Hey Droy, Martum… what’s going on? Has a Dregg-Eater slipped into the kennels or something?” Karani mused with a wide grin as she lounged over the shoulders of Martum, pushing her bosom into the back of his neck. The tall, bald elf with his silvery shade found himself slumping forward and grasping his pike for stability. His companion, the more handsome Droy, chuckled gently before turning toward Damara with an excited glimmer in his eyes. He looked as if he was about to speak with his seductive voice and Damara’s ears flicked forward in excitement, until they all noted a terrifying figure strolling onto the open square with every member of the guard and even the Core trembling in fright.
“So, who’s next?”
All eyes fell upon the terrifying form of a massive figure bound in thick black and dark blue fabrics, a great sword in one hand and an axe in another – but worse he wore a metal helmet upon his head that caused all blood to thicken and hearts to stop. Shaped into the grimacing form of some hideous Mountain Ogre, the great black helmet sat as a mask over the face of this stranger with two great horns jutting out to the side as if to emphasise his bestial links. The figure’s voice was deep, slightly gravelly but his foreign tone was easy to distinguish and as Damara recognised it for a Light Elf or Amber City dweller, she noted the armour style and prodded her companions although their eyes were transfixed upon the seven-foot figure strolling into the centre of the market place.
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