Chapter 23
Now that Rys had returned and was ready to face Barul, he needed to make the final preparations. Maria had mentioned she knew a Kinadain who might help them, so he asked her to summon that Kinadain to his manor.
A few days passed before an older Kinadain woman rode up to his estate. The Lilim led her to the rear courtyard, where Rys sat at a table with recording crystals and a thick pile of paperwork. He’d assigned the Lilim to manage hospitality in the manor, given they appeared human.
It also got the Lilim out of those leotards and doing something other than fucking around the sub-levels. He hadn’t organized a uniform for them, which meant they wore whatever they felt like. Everything they wore was skimpy, though. Succubi abhorred covered cleavage and thighs.
“I had expected a stronger military presence, Lord Talarys,” the Kinadain woman said as she was led to the table. “You’ve left a trail of bodies across the region as you tear apart Compagnon’s schemes. Where are your fortifications and elite guards at every corner? Or do you believe yourself beyond the reach of your foes?”
“Have a seat, Sage Hanna,” Rys said. He placed the report he was reading on the table.
A Lilim whisked away everything on the table a moment later, then laid out coffee and pastries.
Hanna was not what Rys expected. Supposedly ostracized by the elders of the local dains, Hanna was a matronly woman with curled ivory horns. Her clothes were conservative and consisted of an enchanted blue robe that covered almost all of her skin. Magical energy clung to her faintly.
Rys had expected a young firebrand. A rebel who opposed the elders and commanded respect because of her principles. Instead, he got a traveling monk.
“I’m better protected than I appear,” Rys said. “I don’t need walls and a hundred belligerent thugs to keep my estate safe.”
“That places you a step above every other would-be-lord who has come here,” Hanna said. She ignored the pastries and drank her coffee black. Without sugar, of course.
“There’s no ‘will be’ about it,” Rys said. “I’m already working closely with Maria. I believe she told you as much?”
“We spoke briefly about you. I speak with and support the demihumans in Anceston and the low-lying areas, so we are familiar with one another.” Hanna gestured to the drinks. “Aren’t you going to drink?”
He poured a coffee and demonstrated that he hadn’t poisoned it. Technically, he could have, given he was immune to poison, but she didn’t know that.
“Lady Maria has been very busy lately. Gathering village chiefs and town mayors together, sending out supplies to free villages, and attempting to keep the flames of rebellion from being stoked too hard.” Hanna raised an eyebrow at him. “The fact you haven’t used the anger of the people speaks well of you. But it makes me wonder why you need me.”
Rys decided to skip the buildup. “You’re ostracized from the dains. Why?”
“Ah. So that’s why.” Hanna smiled bitterly. “Maria spoke of Kinadain and demihuman relations, so I had my suspicions. You don’t really think I’ll help you bring my people to heel, do you?”
“That’s not why I’m asking. I have proof that another Sage is helping Compagnon—one of the liaisons from the dains. The Kinadain have been working with Compagnon for years. That’s an untenable relationship for me to have with the Kinadain. Especially given the power they have over Maria and Anceston.”
Hanna’s eyes bore into Rys. She drained her coffee, then poured another one.
Wind rustled through the courtyard. The two nearby Lilim made no effort to keep their skirts in place as they pretended to stand guard.
“I had wondered if things had deteriorated to this extent,” Hanna muttered. She sighed. “I left the dains after the incident with Maria. It represented the latest in a long string of power grabs by the elders. They’ve become corrupted by greed. So much of our culture has been. But how can I trust you to truly help us?”
“Corrupted?” Rys asked. “I thought trading in artifacts was normal for the Kinadain.”
Hanna laughed. “Oh, no. In fact, it was considered a grave felony to ransack the Labyrinth until your people came. But reality is cruel. Once, we traded food from the Ariadain in exchange our protection and blacksmithing skills. A highly beneficial relationship for each of us.”
Symbiotic, even. Rys didn’t tell her that, because she likely didn’t know the word. To say nothing of how dehumanizing it might sound.
“Foreigners changed everything. Your tools and metals are superior. Your warriors could match all but our very greatest. And you knew evocation—for every Slayer we had, you could muster an army of mages,” Hanna explained. “We had nothing to trade and no ability to grow food. Many left the mountains. Maria is a descendant of one such Kinadain.”
Something clicked in Rys’s mind. “Do the Kinadain view those who left as traitors? Is that why the topic of demihumans and Kinadain is so sensitive?”
Hanna nodded grimly. “Our world was shattered by your ships. It’s foolish to say that we can live how we did before, given even then we relied on neighbors to support us. We’ve changed. Even the isolated island of Kinaria has changed, although I feel that’s due to political interference by the remaining Kinadain. Many do not like being reminded of a place that has resisted the change that was forced on them.”
“I won’t pretend to understand,” Rys said. “But nothing I’m hearing sounds healthy. How does Kinaria resist the continents? Surely, trade vessels from Gauron would forcibly open the ports, given the difference in power?”
“Because Kinaria is protected by Tenno Morai, the Death Saint,” Hanna said.
Rys stared at her.
Death Saint? He felt the influence of angels once more. Even the name “Tenno” was from Pharos and was the word for emperor.
“The Slayers, Sages, and Saints are part of a system that operates across the whole archipelago,” Hanna said. “Once, it involved meeting at the standing stones in Kinaria once every few years. Now it operates more centrally from Dalyros. Slayers are our greatest warriors; Sages our spiritual guides; and the Saints a combination of both. Or at least, that’s the idea.”
“I take it that power corrupted?” Rys asked drily.
“I do not believe so. I remain a Sage, after all.” Hanna frowned, thinking over her next words. “But something happened with Morai. She remains a Saint because there aren’t any other Death Saints, but the circle that governs us despises her. Not that it matters. She can destroy armies single-handedly.”
Tenno Morai shot up into the top ten of people that Rys didn’t want to piss off. Any mortal capable of destroying an army was far beyond his ability to fight. For now. He’d handle her once he had most of his power back.
“Where do elders sit in this system?” Rys asked.
“They don’t. Not officially.” Hanna smirked. “But elders must hold at least one position, according to the customs of most dains. Most elders are Sages. There are also very few Sages nearby to replace the existing elders, for some mysterious reason.”
Ah, yes, a mysterious reason that involved preventing political opponents from being eligible to become elders. A tried-and-true tactic of corrupt leaders everywhere.
“I feel like we should be on the same side,” Rys said. “So why the misgivings?”
“Because the cause of this was your people,” Hanna said, although her tone was soft. “We broke our laws and traded in artifacts to maintain our way of life. But then we needed to protect the mountains from intruders, or else we’d lose our only source of income. After that, we cooperated with friendly rulers to protect ourselves from retribution. Every step had a justifiable reason, but increased the greed and power of the elders.”
“The current situation is untenable,” Rys said.
“It is. But removing the elders might allow you to sweep us from the mountains entirely,” Hanna countered. “You’re already involved in the artifact trade.”
“I… really don’t care whether the Kinadain live in the mountains or not,” Rys said bluntly. He rubbed his temples. “The artifact trade was a means to raise funds, before Maria approached me. If I’m a king, it won’t matter. I’ll just tax the businesses involved.”
“Then promise me that my people will retain their land and be ruled by their own people?” Hanna asked.
Magic flared up within her.
“Do not try to bind me to a spiritual contract,” Rys growled.
Hanna glared at him.
“But that’s a promise I can easily make and keep, so long as I have the support of the Kinadain,” Rys said. “Is that enough?”
“It will have to be.” Hanna chewed on her lip. “Maria hinted that this related to Barul. Are you intending on breaking up their engagement?”
“Correct. The elders can override Maria’s spiritual contract. If I prove that I am a better fighter than Barul, then they’ll have no choice but to support me. If they don’t, their refusal will destroy their credibility, especially combined with evidence that they’re supporting Compagnon.”
“Devious. Evil, perhaps. But I was naïve to try to change minds through normal means,” Hanna said. “As a Sage, I can referee a sanctified duel under our customs. But I guarantee that the elders will ignore the result, even if they will attend out of morbid curiosity and pride.”
“Even better,” Rys said. “I just confirmed that you can create spiritual contracts, so that means my alternative plan is possible.”
He briefly explained to her the details of how he wanted to hold the duel. Now that he knew what Hanna was capable of, he was able to make some adjustments to improve the chance of success.
Hanna’s eyes were wide. She brushed her silvered hair back. “Yes, very devious. But I see one fundamental problem: Barul will refuse any spiritual contract to adhere to my rulings. He is a Slayer and therefore sees himself as right in everything.”
“I’m not one to speak, but that’s a little arrogant.”
“No, you’re really not one to speak,” Hanna said with an upturned look. “Each of you will need to offer collateral. He will ask something from you which will cripple your attempt to rule this region, if you lose. But you will be able to ask for something of immense value in return.”
After they discussed a few minor details, Hanna stood and gave him a grim smile. “I do not believe you are a good person, Lord Talarys. But you are the right person for this problem. I give you my word that I will not betray you or speak ill of you regarding this duel, no matter what comes of it.”
She didn’t cast any contract on herself, but the gravity of her words weighed as heavily as if she had. Hanna was reliable, Rys felt.
Several days passed. Grigor left to handle military affairs in the region, leaving Rys to manage the duel by himself. Just in case, he sent Vallis away.
When dawn came four days after he met Hanna, a horse and three ponies approached the manor. Barul led three Kinadain elders up the road. Supposedly, these three represented the largest dains in the region. Hanna claimed they were the worst of a bad lot.
Maria wasn’t present, of course. She had helped organize the duel, but attending was a faux pas. The Kinadain didn’t want an outsider present, as laughable as that description was when it came to Maria.
Instead, Rys greeted Barul and the elders with only Hanna and Fara next to him. He kept his infernals inside. For all Rys knew, Barul or the elders might detect what they were.
“Sage Hanna, it is good to see you again,” Barul said in his native tongue, his dark eyes flashing between everybody. He hid his hatred of Rys behind a stony expression. “I was not aware you would be present.”
Hanna translated Barul’s words for Rys’s benefit—or at least, that’s what she thought—before she answered.
“This is a sanctified duel conducted under the eyes of the Circle of Brethren,” Hanna intoned. “An independent referee is vital, and I am the only Sage available.”
The elders scowled at her. All of them had horns—short ones, which Rys believed meant something—and were well advanced in age. If they were human, Rys would pin them as in their sixties at the youngest. But they were Sages, and it was possible they had extended their lives using magic.
“Even if an elder cannot adjudicate, I could have brought a sage from my dain,” one elder said, with a surprisingly strong tone given his frail appearance.
“No, you couldn’t have,” Rys said. “Lady Maria arrested him for conspiring with Compagnon last night.”
The elders gasped. The other two stared at the one who spoke earlier.
“That is—” the elder stuttered out.
“Entirely right and true,” Barul said. “Lady Maria showed me the proof herself. But that is not why we are here.”
Barul glared at Rys. Maybe the Kinadain warrior disliked the elders. But his refusal to accept Rys mattered more, it seemed.
“Indeed,” Hanna said. “That leaves me as the only Sage qualified to be the referee. I trust there are no problems with this?”
“None,” Barul said, speaking over the elders. “We shall settle this today, under the eyes of the Circle of Brethren.”
Rys raised an eyebrow. “Is that a metaphorical thing or…?”
Barul’s expression turned thunderous, but Hanna spoke first.
“The Circle of Brethren represents the greatest Saints of the Kinadain. We may only act with their authority in specific circumstances, or else we will be found wanting,” Hanna said.
The way her eyes ran over the elders made it clear that she felt the elders should be found wanting.
Rys wasn’t a member of this circle, but he’d be happy to deal with the elders on its behalf.
The elders grumbled, but after several long minutes of arguing, they relented to Hanna’s presence. One of them continued to mutter beneath his breath, but stopped when the others glared at him.
“Lord Talarys, we understand that Maria wishes for us to recognize you as a suitable candidate,” the elders said. “As such, we approve of this duel. It is important that we witness the potential of any foreigner trying to claim power over Anceston.”
Rys noted that they refused to say what he was going to be a suitable candidate for. The contract they had bound Maria with wasn’t public knowledge, after all.
“Then let us speak of rules,” Hanna said. “This is a matter between Kinadain and a foreigner. As such, we cannot rely only on the word of those involved. A spiritual contract is required.”
“I will not agree to any such thing,” Barul spat.
Hanna paused, then nodded, eyes closed. “I expected as much. Then collateral must be offered by each combatant to ensure the integrity of the duel. However”—Hanna looked at the elders, and they glared back—“a contract will still be required for non-combatants.”
“Why?” the elders asked in unison. One stroked his beard, eyes narrowed.
“Because the reputation of the Kinadain toward foreigners is well known,” Rys said. “And the opposite also applies. I want the result of this duel to be certain. No lies. No whispers. You must accept the referee’s rulings and the result of the duel, or else remain quiet about everything related to it.”
“And to ensure that any collateral is delivered on,” Barul added. “This is a duel. Lives are at risk.”
Barul’s glare made it clear whose life he felt was at risk, but he was covering his bases. Maybe he wasn’t an idiot, even if he had appeared reckless.
Once again, the elders argued vehemently. Once again, they lost. Barul didn’t care what they thought. If they wanted to be part of the duel, they needed to agree.
Ironically, if they walked away, then they would keep Maria’s contract in place by refusing to accept Rys. Only their pride kept them here.
“Then, let us agree on the collateral, should either participant break the rules of the duel,” Hanna said, once the arguments were settled and the spiritual contract in place over herself, Fara, and the elders.
Somehow, the elders hadn’t noticed that Rys was excluded from it. Barul’s raised eyebrow indicated that he had, but he remained silent.
“Mine is simple. Talarys will never again have anything to do with Lady Maria,” Barul said.
The elders spluttered.
“How dare you, boy! This is about the Kinadain more than it is you. This collateral must speak for all of us,” one elder shouted.
Barul ignored them.
Did Barul think that Rys intended to marry Maria? The thought amused Rys, but also made Barul’s anger clear. The fact that Maria had tasted Rys’s cock and not Barul’s would drive the Kinadain into a berserker fury, should he ever find out.
“That is a steep request, Sir Barul,” Hanna said. Her brow furrowed, and for the first time it was genuine. Neither Rys nor Hanna had expected something as simple as this.
“It is the only thing he has to offer,” Barul said coldly.
Rys needed to use his immense willpower not to laugh in Barul’s face at that.
“I can think of little you have that is of equal value,” Hanna said. She appeared deeply troubled. “Lord Talarys, would you ask the same of Barul?”
“He’s protected Maria for years. If he wants to stay as her bodyguard, that’s his choice,” Rys said.
Barul gritted his teeth, but remained resolute.
“Then as a life must be offered for a life, the only viable collateral is your sister, Sir Barul,” Hanna said, her expression dark.
Barul’s eyes widened ever so slightly.
A second later, he sighed. He looked at Fara, and his gaze was distant. Then he looked at Rys.
For the first time that Rys remembered, Barul’s gaze wasn’t full of hatred. Instead, it seemed calculating. The Kinadain warrior sized Rys up.
“So be it,” Barul said.
Barul’s gaze was that of a man with nothing to return to.
Whatever the rules might say, Barul intended to kill Rys or die trying. No wonder he had bullied the elders into accepting the contract earlier and added his own term. He came here, willing to die, because he hated Rys that much.
Just like old times, Rys thought with an internal smirk. He loved enemies like this. So straightforward. A refreshing change from all the schemes and bullshit of others.
Hanna looked at both of them. Her expression turned grim, but she ushered the non-combatants to one side. Then she focused her magic, casting a spiritual technique.
A circular barrier of blue flame burst into existence around Rys and Barul.
“Remember the rules,” Hanna said. “No leaving the circle. No interference from others. Obey any rulings I make. You fight until one combatant surrenders, is incapacitated, or I declare the duel over. Otherwise, do as you see fit to achieve victory.”
Ominous words, but intentional ones apparently. Hanna had explained that Kinadain duels didn’t bar trickery or deception, as the Saints considered those valued tactics in warfare. Real enemies used traps and all manner of magic, after all.
Barul drew his sword, holding it in his right hand. It shimmered in the morning sun. Rys recognized that type of sword very well. He’d killed a lot of people who wielded similar ones.
“A black steel core alloyed with angelic silver,” Rys said, describing the sword. “A valuable tool for channeling the Arts.”
Barul’s expression darkened. “I have been right to mistrust you.”
Rys unhooked his axe and gave it a twirl. The surface of the axe immediately turned pitch-black as infernal energy filled it. “History will judge you on that. Harshly, I suspect.”
Barul sneered. An instant later, his body flickered toward Rys. Magic poured off Barul. Only long experience and inhuman reflexes allowed Rys to react.
The slash aimed to take out Rys’s legs in a single sweep.
Foolish, Rys felt. Barul would have had better luck if he’d used a draw-slash. That would have prevented Rys from easily judging the length of the blade and counterattacking.
Infernal energy poured into Rys’s axe, giving it a red glow as he prepared an infernal blow. He swung his axe directly at Barul’s sword, intending to shatter it into pieces.
Before the blades connected, Barul’s blade blinked out of existence. Rys didn’t have time to blink, let alone react.
His axe slammed into Barul’s arm. The infernal blow discharged, turning Barul’s right forearm into a bloody mess of sinew and shattered bone.
At the same time, Barul’s sword appeared in his undamaged left arm. Rys grunted as pain flared in his body.
Barul’s sword had appeared inside of Rys’s chest.