Stand By Thy Blood - Updated 20/09/15

[Iron Aquilifer]

I don't really know how to introduce this to be perfectly honest. The Havorian Empire is a large, multicultural and multi-ethnic realm. Currently the Empress rules with the aid of a council of powerful noblemen, men and women whose loyalty to her and the dynasty vary immensely. Traitors lurk in the shadows and rise up in their thousands, all the while foreign powers muster their strength to regain lost lands and expand at the expense of the Havorians.

This is set in the same world as A Born King, however focuses almost exclusively on the Havorian Empire. In particular, the struggles of the Empress in dealing with a noble class hellbent on usurping her.



Woods of Tar mil Ton - I
Woods of Tar mil Ton - II
Woods of Tar mil Ton - III
Woods of Tar mil Ton - IV
Woods of Tar mil Ton - V
The Al-Baelgoi
The Empress
The Al-Baelgoi
The Empress
The Al-Baelgoi

[Iron Aquilifer]

Woods of Tar mil Ton - I

You have to be patient. Care is needed. It is a delicate thing to do, success going only to those who are skilled enough. Too many lives are spent rushing around, trying hopelessly to outrun the darkness. These fools do not understand that in the darkness there is power. In the power there is a beauty not unlike art. When you see it, then the pleasures of life seem bland and pointless in comparison. A desire is born then, urging you on for more. Life is no longer life without tasting of the feast in the shadows.

Too quick. He had almost let himself go. Very nearly had he allowed himself to fail. That was not something he could allow. It had taken him too long to learn patience. There was no way he would allow all that time and effort to go to waste. Calm, as calm as water. Emotion could ruin it as surely as haste, so he let it all wash away.

The village rested in between two great mountains, the snow-covered Sjoin and the black Djorn. Three score brick buildings concentrated on the level ground between the mountains, nestling on rich soil and divided by a dozen thorn bushes. Only a few animals grazed in the valley, the rest being confined to the community pens. Trees grew vast around the settlement, hundreds of silent guards protecting it from hungry eyes.

Did he breathe? The question did not answer itself but there was no chance for him to do so either. One slip and it would all be for nought. Steady… Steady… He could feel it move, twitching as it felt the nearness of prey. Pincers curled in anticipation, talons poising themselves for the lethal strike. They had waited for an eternity.

An eternity for a single moment.

There was strength in that. A beauty unlike any other.

Now. He launched himself forward, mouth tearing open in to a primal snarl of hunger and lust. Rigid talons of darkness and shadow struck out, spears driving forward in to flesh and bone. There was only a faint whimper of distress before the resistance went out completely.

One moment and it was done.

Eyes gazing down at his kill, he marked out where each strike had landed. It had been a good attack, every blow landing where it could do enough damage to result in death. A lesser man might have simply taken that, enjoying the sweetness of success for the few seconds that it lasted. He was no lesser man, unknowing of the gift he had. He was no man at all. No, he acknowledged that the spacing was too far apart, that some wounds appeared to have been stretched. No, now that he investigated further, it was not that good of a kill at all.

What does that matter? His desire demanded of him. It simply needs to be quick. To that voice, that whisper of a hundred wasps, he could offer up no argument. Accepting the silence for the submission that it was, desire urged him forward.

The darkness stretched out around him, tendrils of absolute black consuming the faint moonlight. Slowly, slower than the passage of time, the darkness reached out once more towards the motionless corpse. He could taste it, a faint aroma of something that was pleasure itself. As the darkness sunk in to its feast, he reviled in the sensation. There was nothing else at that point, merely pleasure that left him needing more.

I should hurry, a faint voice called from somewhere. There could be others. Desire wished for him to stay, but he had learned to be patient. With patience came a resistance to greed. Pulling his cowl back in to place, the dark figure was consumed by mist.

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

This is a great opening.

I think I probably over-use the word "intriguing", but this really is a good place to say it...

[Iron Aquilifer]

This is a great opening.

I think I probably over-use the word "intriguing", but this really is a good place to say it...

He/She/It wasn't even going to be a main character, but I have revised that slightly. That and the entire direction of this story.

Many thanks

[Iron Aquilifer]

Woods of Tar mil Ton - II

“I want these forests cleared. Too long have we allowed these criminals free reign.”

Fifty sworn swords had gathered at their lord’s command, skilled warriors who lived for the call of war. Each man bowed at his words, glad to have a task to complete at which they are were good at. They had left their horses in the care of their swordbearers, young men and boys who would follow behind at a respectable distance. The forest was not suitable for riding, and they could be easy prey if the foe tried to ambush them.

“What is the bet that they have already gone?”

Maybe it was arrogance that made him ask the question. They were Scareons and renowned for their ferocity of course. Or maybe it was just nerves, urging his mind to dwell on the hope of a painless scenario.

“Now that you have said that Salin, there is going to be an entire army waiting for us.”

“I really hope that you are right,” muttered Dogra from in front of them. “I am missing valuable time with my Corlie.”

Corlie. Scareo was not known for its women. Scareon women were considered faithful wives, strong and able yes, for learning to read and write no matter their walk of life. However they were not pursued like Tamverian women. Almost all anyway.

“She would kick you out if you went to her without any silver.”

“I am not even going to grace that lie with an answer.”

“Keep it quiet,” commanded Meb Valo, eyes locked on the wall of trees before him.

Corlie, barely twenty years old and pursued by a hundred suitors. She had been raised as a blacksmith, to become as respected a member of the community as her mother was. Yet somehow she had become an attraction of the regional Dol. After that, her name had spread quickly.

“String your bows.”

The command had been long in waiting, each fighter feeling vulnerable without their prized weapon ready. Salin tested the tension before he allowed himself to let the bow rest in his grip. He had yet to have a bow break when he most needed it and he would like to keep it that way.

The undergrowth was not as impassable as it could have been. Still, the going was slow as the Meb and his men analysed every tree, bush and twig in case of a lurking enemy. They did not once shake off the feeling that they were being watched. Nor could they get rid of the belief that there was a distorted shadow hovering just out of the corner of their eyes.

“The village is not much farther in, isn’t it?”

Salin nodded, unwilling to look anywhere but out towards the potential threats all around them. He had glanced at Valos’ map before they entered the forest that morning. A faint blemish marked the settlement, so insignificant as to remain unnamed. Salin pondered for the briefest of moments on the reception that they would get. It more welcoming it was, the easier their mission would be.

[Alwyn]

I like your writing and look forward to seeing how the story of Salin, Dogra, Corlie and the mysterious character in the first part will unfold.

[Iron Aquilifer]

I like your writing and look forward to seeing how the story of Salin, Dogra, Corlie and the mysterious character in the first part will unfold.

Your continued support and interest is most welcome.

Many Thanks

[Iron Aquilifer]

Woods of Tar mil Ton III

There had been others before him of course: those who had learned of the ancient power. They too pursued desire until there was nothing else. They too became something more, and something less. Once, before he had come to terms with the future he had chosen for himself, he would have liked to have a companion.

Maybe less a companion and more of a tutor. He could have ensured that his failures were not repeated, that he gained the power without any sacrifice. Yet it was now long past the time where he needed to be taught anything.

No, he was the teacher.

The sun’s rays did not dare to touch him, repulsed and fearful in equal measure. Shadows clung to him, as if he was their sole reason for existence. They leapt from tree to bush to tree, hiding him from a thousand curious eyes. He walked with purpose, striding with just enough conviction to keep the siren call at bay.

Purity. That was what drove him forward. Purity of mind and of body. Purity of the world in which he lived. Purity of power, power that ran as thich and hot as magma. Yes. That power was pure, and he had the gift of accepting it for what it was.

A web was being spun by a small spider, dark talons working effortlessly to thread its powerful silk. Below, a buzzing swarm of wasps descended on a delicate lilac flower. Smiling, he acknowledged the arachnid’s ingenuity with a moment of thought. The wasps would not realise the danger until they were already being feasted upon.

My domain. The phrase demanded a voice, but he did not now to that desire. My realm. It made him grin either way. There was nothing that could challenge him, neither man nor beast possessed anything which could threaten him. Disappointment was outweighed by delight.

He found himself nearing the treeline. Before him squatted the small village, as small as it was unwanted. Once upon a time, there had been three tribes battling over the land. They in turn were conquered by the Scareons, slaughtering without remorse. When the Scareons bowed down to their Havorian masters, the survivors were settled together, given a few animals and told they were farmers.

Should they have resisted? Should the drums have been sounded? There was no other option. The tribes had battled each other too long not to feel the need for war. Violence was all that they knew. Of course they would fight. Defeat is not the end of all things. Even death is not the end of all things. Resistance is merely a choice, a way to stand free from servitude.

Don’t stop now. The sun was no longer gracing the valley with its presence. Dipping behind Sjoin as it did before every night. Keep moving forward. He needed no encouragement, for fear was something he had ceased to understand years before. Allowing only a moment to steel himself against the desires which were already beginning to overpower him, he descended on the village. At first he remained composed, but the screaming had not yet stopped, and spilled blood hung heavy in the air.

[Iron Aquilifer]

Woods of Tar mil Ton IV

“We really should be somewhere else.”

“Where else should we be?”

“In the Ruhrland of course! That place is just waiting for an excuse to rise up against us. We should be there to ensure that they don’t”

Not this again. The men of Scareo liked the men of Ruhrland as little they did the Havorians, but young Dwal seemed to hold them responsible for some great act of treachery. The older men had started to grow tired of his loud proclamations, at odds with the young swordbearers who hung on to every word. They were meant to be bust with duties, but somehow they managed to remain within earshot.

“The Ruhr are our brothers,” remarked Dogra, eying the other man with a strange look.

“Distant cousins perhaps, and not by blood even then. The Ruhr are savages and not worthy of their new place in the empire.”

Meb Valo looked up from his seat but did not put the Odrayar in his place. The Meb was happy to allow Dwal to dig himself a deeper hole.

“I knew a guy who once thought like you did. Older than you of course, older than me by decades.”

Salin smiled as the man began the story. It was one he had heard many times before. Those that knew what was going to come of it exchanged knowing glances. A few pulled themselves back, leaving the young soldier to stand alone. Dwal noticed what the men were doing, but refused to allow himself to be intimidated. Salin didn’t know if the man was making the right decision.

“He was a great man, lets get that straight. You would see him as a father or mentor without peer. Nobleman and commoner alike flocked to heed his council. Every day was spent seeing a man who had the loyalty of thousands.”

Looking over at Valo, Dogra raised a fist. The Meb raised his own slowly, not breaking eye contact first. In the village centre, things had gone quiet. Darker. Colder.

“This man had men like Valo and I. Good men and bad. What did this man do with this loyalty?”

The speaker had closed the distance between himself and Dwal, each word powered by the strength of bitter memory. Salin felt himself being moved by them. Dogra was not a great speaker, not a leader of men, but still he was able to stir the soul.

“He took us in to the Ruhrland. From horizon to horizon he burned and pillaged without care. He had thousands butchered. We looted holy places and burned forests. He would round up the children and rape them in front of their mothers before slitting their throats!”

That was when he lunged out, anger fuelling him past the point of reason.

It was a good hit, strong and true. Dwal was left sprawled across the ground, startled in to paralysis. The men cheered the blow, more for their distaste of Dwal than because they wanted to see more blood spilled that day. They had already cut down a village.

“It was we who are the savages! Never forget that!”

Salin moved mover to Dwal before the man could retaliate, helping him rise slowly.

“Don’t do anything stupid: he needed to let it out.”

Maybe that was stretching the truth a little too far, but it did no harm to at least attempt to put out any possible thoughts of a violent reaction. Giving Dogra a final look, Salin dragged the bleeding man away. In the silence of the village he would be able to calm the young man down. Though given the falling temperate, he was sure that the man would come to regret that.

As the two of them marched off, Dwal let go of his ruined nose long enough to question Salin’s intentions.

“What do you want from me?”

At least he didn’t bit his tongue. That would have left the man screaming wordlessly long in to the night. Glancing back to see if anyone had decided to accompany them, Salin gave an honest enough answer of “nothing.”

“I would ‘ave believed you if I wasn’t paid to be suspicious.”

“Think what you want, I have no need to defend myself.”

“Not yet anyway,” came the ominous reply.

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

Excellent updates! I like the dark mystery of chapter III, and the story of young Dwal being taught a lesson about the savagery of his own people was nicely done. Salin is an interesting character, too.

[Iron Aquilifer]

Due to school activity will be dwindling to pretty much sporadic updates until the 29th May at the earliest.

Excellent updates! I like the dark mystery of chapter III, and the story of young Dwal being taught a lesson about the savagery of his own people was nicely done. Salin is an interesting character, too.

Many thanks

[Iron Aquilifer]

Woods of Tar mil Ton V

What do you want from me? Pleasure, of course. The lost arts offered power to whoever had the ability to use it and he was someone who did. When desire did not consume his very being, the beast was able to choose his next prey with something akin to care. There were many ways still which he had yet to master and time moved ever forwards.

Nothing. That word was a lie unto itself! There was always something, no matter how small or difficult it was to find a use for it. The mere mention of it was something. Heat flowed though him at its utterance. You are a liar. It was not the warmth which sent his head spinning, or the rush of blood towards his loins brought on by the smell of death. No, it was the fire which unlocked the cage where the dark spirit thrashed to be let out of.

He tried to calm it down, urging patience. There had already been a kill made, the hunger sated. He had authority now. What others considered logic and reason fell in favor of the animal, Desire finding support from its cousins Lust and Anger. They overthrew the ruling dynasty with chilling ease.

The young one was first, the scent of blood a beacon stark in the night. Shadows enveloped him, a thousand teeth sinking themselves in to the flesh. The metal and cloth were no resistance to him. Drinking the sickly nectar as it erupted from all the fissures of the body, the darkness convulsed in ecstasy.

There was no light in the village, aside from a dozen distant torches. Darkness and shadow were everywhere and the only warmth was locked away. No challenge. The second man fell beneath an ocean of writhing mist, his voice strangled off by a hundred tiny claws. Whatever resistance he put up went unrecognized as dark tendrils of pure black reached out greedily with the promise of a feast.

Vengeance, the wasps demanded. Feast. The monstrosity raised its head, turning blanks eyes towards the living creatures milling in the village center. A voice, distant and plaintiff, whimpered. It reassured itself with lies as its body glided forward in the shadows.

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

That "hundred tiny claws" line is very unsettling (as I'm sure it's meant to be!) I think your writing conveys the atmosphere around your mysterious dark character very well.

It's a shame for us that your updates will be fewer for a while, but your stories are good enough to wait for!

[Iron Aquilifer]

The Al-Baelgoi

“You would have hoped that we would have been considered. That was the least that they could have done.”

Awkyl looked over at her brother, noticing that his attention was focussed solely on the gathered party preparing themselves to leave. He was barely fourteen years old and full of wonder regarding the rest of the world. He thought himself to be destined for some great future, a future which the singers would praise for a thousand years to come. At the moment however, he was just a second child and a young one at that. He was untested and unproven. He had nothing but his name and the influence which that brought.

Inspecting him, the older girl could see why he would be a suitable choice for marriage on looks alone. Long hair cascaded down his back as his pale brown eyes soaked up every detail of the riders amassing below. Tall, of a height with Awkyl, Razael wore court clothing as befitted the occasion, looking as regal as an Emperor and as handsome as a dragonlord.

“We do not have any titles,” she offered by way of explanation. “That and you have duties to attend to here. Do not look at me like that! Both of us are of better service remaining here.”

Razael shook his head in anger as only a child could. It was the first time in years that the al-Baelgoi had been called together in such numbers since the beginning of the Summer War and that had been at the express command of the Empress herself. Awkyl admitted that she felt the same way as her brother, if less inclined to vocalise her support. She was in line to become the Dol of Madeli, one of twelve nobles of the Jewelled Heartlands. Of the two of them, it was she who should be accompanying their parents.

“Carkyl!”

Razael shouted on the boy, his fury at the injustice dealt evident. Awkyl grudgingly felt the same way. Not that she would say such a thing out loud of course. She had to appear aloft of such things, just as mother has instructed her. She was better than such things. She was al-Baelgoi.

“Yes, Fa Razael?”

“Why is it that you wear armour?”

They all knew why, but Razael in his boyish anger needed the words to be said. The boy was a cousin, so low down the branches that he would be lucky to ever be named Meb. He had no real future as a noble, just as a glorified retainer with a blood tie to the Dol. A very diluted link at that.

“Dol Faelyse has called on me to attend in place of my father.”

That is not going to go down well. His father’s father had been disinherited from the title of Meb. The lands had passed to the rightful owner, but that did not stop the now landless family from staking a claim. Awkyl turned her gaze back towards the assembling party, split almost equal between landed and unlanded nobles. Spotting her mother, she have her a curt wave.

“I wish you good luck,” Razael choked out, watching the older youth bow and make his way over to the rest of the column. As he was halfway across the busy courtyard, the noble added: “You up-jumped peasant.”

Awkyl smiled at the muttered insult despite her best intentions. It was an accurate observation at least.

“Come, let us reture inside. I am sure that the cooks have our food prepared.”

“We should stay until they have left.”

“They will be a long time still. Come, we have yet to break our fast.”

Her brother finally gave in, casting one final glance down at the soon-to-be departed nobility. Withdrawing back in to the manse, the two youths made their way towards their dining room. Servants revealed themselves from darkened alcoves, trailing after the siblings in silence. Their robes of yellow fluttered slightly, the only noise which acknowledged their presence the soft footfall of their padded slippers. Out of earshot of the courtyard, the inside of the building was left eerily devote of noise.

“We will have to hold a council meeting,” began Awkyl after the silence had stretched for long enough. “With mother gone we will have to aid the running of the household.”

“Oh really? I just cannot wait.”

Awkyl almost allowed herself to be dragged in to an argument over the obligations which they had now that they were left in charge. He wont even care. It was not as if he had any talent for it anyway. No, it was better if she just allowed him to do his own thing for the time of their mothers’ departure.

“If anything important or exciting gets brought up then you will miss out,” she said in a half-hearted attempt to win him over.

The young noble gave her a look to inform her that she wasn’t convincing him at all.

“I hope that there are some oranges.”

“On that we can agree.”

Now that is a surprise.

[Alwyn]

Intriguing - I wonder why that's a surprise - is it simply that Awkyl is surprised that he brother agrees with her on anything?

[Iron Aquilifer]

Intriguing - I wonder why that's a surprise - is it simply that Awkyl is surprised that he brother agrees with her on anything?

Now this question I can give a straight answer to Yeah, just because he as agreed with her. Or more they have something they can openly agree on.

[Iron Aquilifer]

The Empress

There were days when the responsibility of being Empress weighed heavily on her. When famine starved the masses, turning the people in to a plague of bloodthirsty savages. When religious figures stirred unrest, inflicting strange and dark beliefs upon her subjects. When traitors convened to dethrone her; that one most of all. She had the responsibility to deal with them for the good of the Empire: her empire. Yet one wrong move would end a reign once praised as being blessed by the divine. Whatever measures she decided upon, thousands would die. Thousands of traitors and loyalists alike.

“And you are certain that there is no other way?”

Open war. That was one other option. I have crushed all my foes on the battlefield. However the voice of concern, that nagging hiss of fear stayed her hand. No, that is worse than failure.

“Your Eminence, I cannot truthfully advise you towards any other course of action. Any other family I would have advised removing their titles and exiling the leaders. Any other gathering I would have counselled that an army be raised, marching upon their strongholds with the imperial dragon flying overhead. To this? I can only offer the one way that may work without breaking the empire apart.”

“I must agree, Your Eminence, with the sage council of Dol Parael. The al-Baelgoi are a large and fertile family, claiming seats and titles across the breadth of your empire. The army they can gather just through their immediate household would be a rival to whatever host we could put in the field to arrest them.”

The other councillors stood quietly around the main table, studying the maps of the land. They tried to decide upon sides if war were to come, weighing up the risks as any gambler did. Many would remain loyal, devote to the leader who had seen them win the Summer War. Others didn’t have a choice in the matter, their lands surrounded either by royalists or traitors. Who will be here in a year? There would probably be a few new faces, admitted the monarch truthfully. The cost of rule was never cheap.

“Then make it so. Dol Parael, I thank you for your council. No evidence must be left if it can connect you to the throne. You are acting out-with consent from the crown and if caught I will punish you as such. You too, Dol Myfi: Whatever means necessary to keep the unity of the realm. I expect successful results.”

The two noblemen bowed, accepting their Empress’ commands as if there was any possible alternative. They had already given the order to their men. Even as they were given royal permission hundreds of agents and soldiers converged on their targets. Neither of the Dols had risen to their ranks by allowing station to restrict them. For appearance’s sake they shuffled out of the chambers, slippers leaving no residue of their presence.

“Meb Sebriz, tell me of the state of the royal barracks.”

She needed to be reassured. She needed to know that the advantage still lay with her, cooped up in the capital. The guardians stationed within the city limits would do just that. They were the men who had sworn their lives to her and the throne. Their loyalty was absolute. It had to be.

“We have two thousand Yapodrum in service, Your Eminence. Alongside them the numbers of Balgrum have been increased to near five thousand. There is no force which could best them if the city is besieged.”

The man seemed to be visibly proud of the numbers. The barracks had never been so close to being full since the time of Emperor Valox. With such numbers the city could defy any aggressor surely? The traitors could attack with all the might they possessed and still it would not be enough to overcome the walls.

“And you have the finances to maintain them?”

“The treasury has been able to cloth and feed them yes. There will be no reason to fear mutiny.”

“Your Eminence, Meb Sebriz fails to mention the strain such rapid expansion has-“

“Quell Tilk’s concerns have already been considered, Your Eminence. I felt that the defence of the capital and your royal person was more important than a few extra coins lying in the vaults.”

Raising her hand before the nobleman could reply, the Empress gave the commander a curt nod. The cost would be more than a strain she was sure. Even with the tithes and tributes from across her realm the treasury did not have the ability to support the payment of seven thousand armed soldiers, no matter their loyalty. They need to be used.

“You have done well, Meb Sebriz. How long would it take for them to be ready to march?”

Eyes widened at her words. Did she truly think that she could face the al-Baelgoi alone? No Emperor had faced a traitor without a dozen nobles at their back. None of the al-Baelgoi had ever been confronted, so this would be many firsts.

“There is still some requisitions to be made and logistics settled, but I would confidently say within four days. Four days and the royal barracks could be emptied.”

See? There is nothing to fear. The traitors do not pose a threat. Even if the dishonourable tactics of Myfi and Parael failed, the Empress would rush the dissenters.

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

Haven't been here for ages, but I'm very glad to see it's kept going. I'm looking forward to finding out how the new chapters fit with the first five.

And wondering if we'll get to see one of these "dragonlords"...

[Iron Aquilifer]

Haven't been here for ages, but I'm very glad to see it's kept going. I'm looking forward to finding out how the new chapters fit with the first five.

And wondering if we'll get to see one of these "dragonlords"...

Many thanks for the kind words

[Iron Aquilifer]

The Al-Baelgoi

He was a diminutive figure, perched on a seat that was meant for someone far larger. With his plain clothing hanging off of his frame, the accountant looked for all the world like a child. Did that matter to him, however? Awkyl decided that it didn’t seem to faze the man. He gave the impression that he was above such things as meaningless as outwards appearances. There were duties which superseded such pointless concerns.

“What do the books say?”

“We are still paying the services of eight hundred guardsmen, of whom I have only seen three hundred.”


“I can vouch for the necessity and presence of these men,” promised Yolyn, his voice underlined with boredom. “Each one serves the Dol and earns every penny with loyal service.”

The accountant only inclined his head, biting back a reply which would have had something to do with wasted resources. As it stood, mentioning it would have been a waste of time and energy.

“Any word from the villages?”

“Haero’s Rest has sent a representative to argue for the removal of the increased taxes imposed on them.”

How very bold of them. They had killed members of her father’s household and thought that the punishment dealt out to them was too much? It was far too soft.

“Have him brought in then,” Awkyl ordered, feeling her jaw setting already.

Yolyn rose quickly, racing out of the chambers with obvious relish. With the soldier’s departure, the remaining councillors seemed to visibly relax. The young lady knew that bad blood existed but had of yet not been able to find out where is stemmed from. If it could prove useful, then she wanted to know of it as soon as possible.

“Fy Awkyl, if I may be so bold: you would be better served with a different man in charge of the house soldiers. Yolyn is not of your blood or that of your parents.”

“But you are, is that what you are suggesting Dhan? That you should replace my father’s loyal servant simply because you married his cousin?”

“Fy Awkyl, I-”

“No, Hilaego. I want to hear Dhan’s answer.”

The man tried to do as the girl requested, but his throat choked the words to death before they could escape. As the silence stretched, Yolyn returned, a well-dressed woman in tow. She stood at the base of the council table, eyes scanning each member as a merchant seizes up a horse.

“Deliver your demands then,” Awkyl declared, already wishing the woman to go. I should have expected a woman.

The woman fixed her glare on the Dol’s heir. Was it anger flowing through her? Disgust? Whatever it was Awkyl did not appreciate the look that it caused the peasant to give her. I am not the traitor here. I know my place.

“The village cannot afford the increased taxes. We cannot survive on what little of the crops that are left to us.”

“I have not heard the demands.”

No “my lady”. No acceptance that they are in the wrong! What do you think I am?

“You have taken enough of us. Let things go back to the way they were.”

“Back to when your people murdered ours? You couldn’t afford the tithes then either I recall.”

It was her voice, but it was the words of Dol Faelyse. She would not allow any challenge to her authority. Her power was absolute and she had to ensure that it remained as such for decades to come, now more than ever.

“Blood paid for blood, three of us fell for every one you lost.”

“So it is over? This affair can be forgotten? Your people wis to return to our good graces?”

The woman nodded deeply, not trusting her mouth to speak. There was no other answer that could have been accepted. In reply, the seated exchanged glances. Awkyl was the one to decided the fate of the representative and her village.

“Then leave. The tithe collectors will inform you of the payment needed when they arrive.”

Yolyn again accompanied the woman out, two lightly armed guards following closely. As they left, the noblelady turned again to Dhan. The man almost cowered before her. That made her flash a smile of genuine happiness.

“You have to prove that you are my man before you can be considered a replacement to Yolyn. This is one way you can do it.”

“Are we still talking about Haero’s Rest?” inquired Hilaego, the small accountant momentarily confused.

“Remain behind at the end Dhan,” she instructed the man before turning back to the council proper. “Is there anything else that needs to be attended to?”