by Isaac Hooke
“Apparently they can,” Aurora replied.
“Has he let you experience our unique brand of shared sex yet?” Gwen asked Aurora.
5
Malem smiled inwardly as Aurora gave Gwen a confused look.
“I’ve kept her muted,” Malem told Gwen. “It seemed the right thing to do.”
“See, Dwarf?” Aurora said. “The Breaker can mute me at will. So I cannot hear all the things they say behind my back, in their minds.”
“You’re missing the point,” Gwen said. “You have no idea what I’m talking about when I say shared sex, do you? No idea what you’re missing out on.”
Aurora shook her head very slightly.
“Well, Malem is going to have to unmute you some time,” Gwen said. “Because you see, when we have sex, it’s—”
“Yes, yes,” Xaxia said. “The fuck of the century.” She looked at Aurora. “I can’t tell you how many times I have to listen to them bragging about how great the sex is.”
“Well, that’s because there’s nothing like it,” Gwen said. “There really isn’t. When he beds one of us, the rest of us can feel it, if he allows us. And then he in turn experiences the pleasure in us as it echoes back at him, which makes his own bliss stronger, which we also feel, spiking our own pleasure yet again, and back and forth it goes… it keeps becoming amplified like that as it passes back and forth between us, until it’s just this all enveloping feeling of pure bliss.”
“You mean you experience sex with him, without actually touching him?” Aurora asked.
“That’s right,” Xaxia said. “But don’t look at me, I have no idea what’s that’s like.”
“Nor I,” Grendel said.
“It’s mind-blowing,” Weyanna said. “Once you’ve tried sex this way, you can’t go back.”
“I want to make sure you’re understanding this,” Gwen told Aurora. “One of us has to fuck him, yes. So someone has to ‘touch’ him, as you say. But the rest of us will feel that lovemaking.”
“What happens if he masturbates?” Timlir asked. “Do you feel that, too?”
“I don’t know,” Gwen said, looking at Malem questioningly. “He never has, that I know of.”
“I have no reason to, not with all of you around,” Malem said. “But in theory, yes, you would feel my pleasure, and it would jump back and forth between us, amplifying each time.”
“So as I was saying,” Gwen told Aurora. “He’s going to have to unmute you sometime, so you can feel what it’s like.”
“Only if she wants,” Malem said.
“Why does it matter what she wants?” Gwen said. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Maybe you should just do it. That’s one way to covert her to our side real quick. Once she feels that.”
“Because it’s also tantamount to rape, in a way,” Sylfi said. “If you do it against her will.”
“She’s right,” Malem told Gwen.
The half gobling nodded. “I suppose.”
“Would you like me to unmute you, next time I take someone to my bed?” Malem asked Aurora earnestly.
She gave him a disgusted look. “I’ll have to pass for now, thanks. I’m not very big on remote sex.”
Malem shrugged. “You’re loss.”
“Can we talk about something else?” Grendel asked. “Brighter topics maybe? Subjects that the rest of us who haven’t been Broken by you can relate to?”
The table fell quiet. No one was quite sure what to talk about.
“How about that beer!” Timlir said.
Everyone looked at him. Gwen and Weyanna were frowning.
“What?” the dwarf said. “That’s a brighter subject. And it’s not a bad ale, you have to admit. Not as good as what dwarves make, but hey, it does the job.”
The conversation essentially died out after that.
They continued to drink. None of the other patrons approached them. A couple of new patrons did come inside, men and women who called themselves news gatherers, and they asked Malem a series of questions on the kingdom he was building in the jungle.
“How big is it?”
“How many monsters do live there?”
“Night elves?”
“Dragons?”
“Have you Broken all of your army with your mind?”
“Can you control them all like the pieces on some game board?”
“Will the Balors return?”
“What brings you to our city?”
“Where are you going next?”
“Do you have any plans of conquering Red Bridge?”
“What about other cities?”
Malem answered as few questions as he could, and those incorrectly or as vaguely as possible. Thankfully, the “news gathers” soon left him alone. But they were quickly replaced by others who wanted to shake the hand of the famous Breaker, or punch him in the face. He could tell the latter from the dour expressions they usually wore.
“You killed my family in Viridian!” one of the latter men said. Viridian was a city to the north of the Midweald, which Malem had conquered as the Defiler.
“I’m sorry,” Malem said, and meant it. Filled with shame, he added: “Why don’t you give me your name, and I’ll prepare a bank deed? A small restitution for your troubles, to be redeemed in my city in the forest. Or here, once we set up a banking branch in Redbridge. I know it won’t bring your family back, but maybe—”
“I don’t want your blood money!” the man interrupted. “I just want to spit in your fucking evil face!”
And the man managed to do so before leaving, forced out by the tip of Xaxia’s sword.
Malem wiped the spittle from his cheek. “I actually prefer to be treated this way, than like an emperor.”
“Whatever for?” Gwen asked.
“I feel like an imposter sometimes,” Malem said. “Most of the time.” He sighed. “I’m not an emperor. I’m just an ordinary man of questionable morals.”
“We all have questionable morals, if you want to look at it that way,” Gwen said. She nodded at Aurora. “Especially her.”
Aurora bared her teeth in a feral grin.
Xaxia was shaking her head. “You are an emperor, even if you won’t admit it. Someday you’ll come to terms with that truth. You have to. Your army follows you, not Ziatrice, Abigail, or Mauritania. You. You know why? Because you defeated Balors! No one else could ever do such a thing. No one else could even dream of it!”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Malem said. “I didn’t do it, the Paragons did.”
“Still counts as a defeat, since you’re the one who summoned them, and paved the way for their victory,” Gwen said. “I agree with Xaxia. You outsmarted the Balors. Used sound strategies and tactics to beat them. Something that no one else has done, not for a long time.”
“Not since the Balor Wars,” Wendolin agreed. “Back when the Balors had first come to our realm, when they were far weaker. We didn’t know then that killing the Balors would strengthen the remainder. We learned our lesson quickly.”
“How did there get to be so few of them?” Gwen asked.
“When the Paragons sealed off this world to them,” Wendolin answered, “and the Balors returned to the Black Realm, they realized how powerful they could become if they eliminated their brethren. And so they began an unending series of wars against one another. Bloody, terrible wars. Only when Banvil became powerful enough to break through the seals the Paragons had placed, did we learn just how brutally successful these wars had been. The Balors had reduced their numbers to twelve. Twelve!”
“And now there are nine,” Malem said. “Well, eleven. But Denfidal and Vorgon aren’t going to be bothering anyone for a long time yet.”
“That’s what we said about Banvil,” Wendolin said. “And look at what happened.”
“Maybe we should go into the Black Realm, and destroy Vorgon and Denfidal permanently,” Xaxia said.
“No!” Aurora said. “Please.”
“It’s all righ
t,” Malem said. “We’re just talking. We’re not going to actually do it.”
She blinked rapidly, as if holding back tears, and then swallowed.
“Denfidal was like a father to me,” Aurora said. “I couldn’t bear the loss of losing him forever. At least now, there’s a chance I might see him again.”
Malem nodded. “There’s no reason to kill Denfidal or Vorgon. Even the Paragons want them alive, to preserve their precious balance. Denfidal is safe in the Black Realm.”
Aurora exhaled in relief.
“At least, as long as no other Balors discover where he’s hiding,” Weyanna said.
Malem sensed a sudden panic from Aurora.
“We have to go to him!” Aurora said. “Protect him while he’s defenseless!”
Wendolin frowned. “I doubt we’ll be able to find Denfidal… the Black Realm is as huge as our own world. And even if we do, our presence will only lead the other Balors to the demon. No, Denfidal is safer on its own.”
The flagons were nearly empty at that point, so Malem ordered another for them to share. He almost requested two, but was feeling a little queasy, so decided not to push it.
After the barkeep was gone, Gwen gave him a cautious look.
“You know,” Gwen said. “At some point, once we get our treasury built up, we can look into gifting coin and builders to some of the cities we helped destroy. To help make reparations for what we did. It would certainly make me rest easier at night.”
“I agree of course,” Malem said. “Assuming they’ll take our help.”
“Why wouldn’t they?” Gwen asked.
“You saw the guy that just spat in my face?” Malem replied. “What were his words? He didn’t want our ‘blood money.’”
Gwen downed the last of the beer that remained in her mug. “Good point.”
“And they probably wouldn’t accept any builders we sent their way,” Malem continued. “Unless we dispatched men only, or those races similar to men, like the dwarves. Something tells me they wouldn’t want to work side-by-side with oraks.”
“Probably not,” Gwen agreed. She tapped her chin. “For the money part, maybe we can make the donation anonymously.”
“That would probably work,” Malem said.
“Why would you give money to those you helped destroy?” Aurora said.
Gwen scowled at her. “Because we feel bad about it?”
“I didn’t participate in any of that, just so you know,” Xaxia told Aurora. “I ran away.”
“Coward,” Weyanna said.
Xaxia shrugged. “I’m the one who came back with the Dark Eye. Without me, Malem would have died as the Defiler.”
“Yes, and you’re such a good person, because you didn’t have a hand in the destruction of all those cities,” Gwen said. “And of course, you’ve never assassinated innocent men for money, not ever, right?”
Xaxia grinned. “I never claimed to be faultless. And the men I assassinated were hardly innocent. They were thieves in and of themselves, and they pissed off some powerful people. I think of myself much as the Paragons do: I restore balance to the world with my assassin’s blade.”
“Ha!” Gwen said. “Balance, my ass. Soldier of fortune, more likely.”
“Those days are over for me now,” Xaxia said. “The only creatures I assassinate these days are oraks. And Balors.”
The new flagon arrived, and Xaxia was the first to refill her cup. Wendolin followed. The tree elf took a long sip, and then wiped her lips.
“I’d be willing to lend the tree elves to help with any rebuilding efforts,” Wendolin said.
Malem nodded. “I’m sure the cities wouldn’t refuse your help.” Unlike the other members of his dark army, the tree elves were renowned throughout the land as beings of the light: altruistic and enlightened.
“Benevolent of you,” Sylfi commented to Wendolin.
“Yes, but also selfish,” Wendolin said. “You see, by having the fortified cities of men scattered across the realm, cities that are well funded and well defended, we buy ourselves time in the case of an invasion. While they fight, we may prepare. Why do you think we were so ready when Vorgon arrived at our doorstep?”
Sylfi pursed her lips. “I never thought about it like that.”
“It probably wouldn’t take too long for the elves to rebuild these cities either,” Malem said. “Assuming the people relied on wood. I remember when we flew past the Dothweald on the way to fight Denfidal and Vorgon, the forest looked pristine.” The Dothweald was the forest where the hidden entrance to the elven kingdom of Dothloron resided. Vorgon had attempted to burn it to the ground in order to drive out the elves.
Wendolin nodded. “We managed to grow most of it back. However, it did drain the mages for many weeks thereafter. So it will take some time to restore the different cities throughout the realm. Depending on how many fell to Vorgon.”
“Quite a few.” Malem took a long quaff, and shook his head. “We’ve been so busy building our own kingdom, and I’ve been so preoccupied trying to get the hang of this emperor thing, that we never actually brought up how we were going to make amends.”
“Actually, we did,” Wendolin said. “A few times now. You just don’t remember.”
He nodded slowly. “Banvil.”
“Do we have to worry about you having gaps in your memory going forward?” Grendel asked. “Or about you losing your mind in and of itself?”
“I haven’t had a bout of forgetfulness since we left,” Malem said. “But yeah, I probably will again at some point. But hopefully not for a while. I believe the demon drained itself greatly, when it attempted to force me to lead a dragon assault against Redbridge. It will try again, no doubt. You’ll have to be on the lookout for behavioral changes in me, and act appropriately.”
The conversation stalled thereafter, and they drank for the most part in silence. Timlir joked once or twice about how they were all sorry drunks, and that if they were dwarves, they would all be laughing and singing right about then.
But neither Malem nor the others felt like laughing or singing.
“Party poopers,” Timlir said, waving a dismissive hand at them. He went instead to sit with the proprietor at the bar, and their laughter occasionally drifted across the common room.
One of the songbirds alerted him to incoming troops, and Malem switched to the animal’s viewpoint to watch. The troops arrived on horseback, and formed a ring in front of the building, where a crowd had gathered. These troops dismounted, and promptly proceeded to erect a barrier, forcing back the gathering crowd. No doubt the mayor had ordered this, and Malem was grateful.
No more fans or haters arrived at the inn, thanks to that barrier; meanwhile, the other patrons left Malem alone. Thus, he spent the next hour mostly in peace and quiet. Brita came inside after half an hour, and swapped with Sylfi, who took over watching their saddles outside. Malem thought the big bags were probably safe with the city guards watching over them, as well as his songbirds, but it didn’t hurt to have one of their own taking direct care of the bags.
At the end of that hour, the mayor’s courier arrived with news.
6
Malem studied the courier, who was clad in burnished plate mail with a white plume running down the back of the helmet. Malem knew the man was a representative of the mayor, because of the tunic he wore over his chest armor, which was embroidered with the city’s symbol: a red arc over a blue line, meant to represent the main bridge and the river it traversed.
“What news?” Malem asked.
The courier bowed. “Breaker. The mayor sends word: a man matching your quarry’s description arrived at the western entrance shortly after midnight. He traveled with four spare horses. The guards allowed him to cross the bridge into the city—he claimed to be a horse seller of some sort. An hour later, the sentries on duty at the eastern gate of Northern Redbridge encountered the man once again, as he exited the city with his four horses and proceeded into the eastern Midweald.”
“So he’s being more circumspect in his travels after all,” Wendolin said. “And not leaving a trail of death and destruction for us to follow. Maybe it’s better this way. At least for the potential victims.”
“But not for us.” Malem rubbed his chin. “If that was Goldenthall, then he heads toward the eastern perimeter of the Midweald.” He glanced at the courier. “You say he left about an hour after midnight?”
“That’s correct,” the man said.
“By horse, if he headed due east, he could have made it out of the forest by now…” Malem glanced at Xaxia for confirmation.
“Easily,” Xaxia said.
Malem sat back. “I was hoping to camp out upon the eaves, and ambush him when he arrived. But he has too much of a head start.” He glanced at the courier once more. “No other patrols spotted him after he left the city?”
“I’m sorry, no,” the man said.
“How about anything untoward?” Malem pressed. “Murdered merchants on the road, or the like?”
“Again, no,” the courier said.
Malem nodded. “All right, thank you. You may go.”
The man bowed. “Mayor Townshed offers his full support. If you need anything, send word, and the mayor will do his best to fulfill your request.”
As the courier left, Xaxia said, softly: “Of course he will. He has a city of monsters almost on his doorstep. He’ll do anything to appease its ruler.”
Malem said nothing to that, and instead thrummed his fingers on the table. “If I were Banvil, where would I go? What’s to the east of the Midweald?”
“Mulhadden isn’t all that far to the southeast,” Xaxia said. “Perhaps he’s headed to Tartan.”
“What’s in Tartan?” Wendolin asked.
“First of all, it’s the city Goldenthall once ruled,” Xaxia said. “In ruins now, unfortunately. It’s also the city where I first discovered Banvil still lived.”
Malem considered that. “You mentioned you spotted the Darkness there?”
“Yes,” she said. “It was seeping from the flagstones of the very rooftop where Banvil created the portal to this world in its attempt to snatch you with the Darkness. The same spot where that portal appeared, in fact.”
