Chapter 69: As deep as lava

“Where is Prince Lancer? Where is he?”

“In the forest! In the woods!”

Viv snapped out of her rage when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She was standing in a circle with only Marruk and Solfis by her side. The others had left her some space. The hand belonged to Denerim. The veteran inquisitor was smiling bitterly. From so close, the crow’s feet near his eyes and gray in his hair made him feel dignified, more sympathetic mentor than deadly warrior. Viv took a deep breath and frowned.

And looked.

Black tendrils ending in thin blades rose all around her, coiled like cobras. Some of the appendages were dangerously close to her prisoner while Denerim himself stood twisted to avoid two. His apprentice, Orkan, stood a few paces behind. He, too, had his attention on the roofs.

“Viv.”

“Yeah yeah.”

He did not have to give her the grand speech, she was an adult. Yadda yadda executing prisoners bad yadda yadda let go of your anger and embrace the lord or some such trite shit. She got the idea. The prince was gone and surrounded by soldiers. She had to be… realistic. The tendrils were reabsorbed.

“The enemy baron is still in the town hall according to the prisoners. He’s attempting contact with the prince,” Denerim continued.

That got her attention.

“Contact?”

“He has a two-way communication device, apparently.”

“Let’s go.”

Viv was going to commit the fantasy equivalent of screaming into a phone. The last of the Enorian prisoners were being carried away and the path to Resh Ganimatalo’s old quarters was clear. They strode to the baron’s quarters, easily recognizable by the four guards surrounding it. Denerim ordered them to surrender and they did, which showed that they had good instincts. Viv pushed the door and…

“Locked.”

She called forth black mana but Marruk stopped her.

“Please, let me. It would be nice if we had a door to close later.”

“Right.”

Marruk kicked the door open, and by that Viv meant that the stout warrior booted the piece of wood and it flew off against the opposite wall with a resounding clang. The Kark had the grace to look embarrassed.

“Sorry, my power has increased a lot lately.”

“You love doors but hate hinges, huh?” Viv noted as Solfis went through the threshold. Once more, Denerim and Orkan were covering her back. It seemed that her closest allies were not letting their guard down.

Inside, they found the room devoid of decoration save for a simple office filled with documents. A man stood to the side in a decorated doublet. Viv recognized the same sniveling asshole who had delivered the prince’s ultimatum three months and an eternity ago. He was near a white altar, its surface covered by the flaming figure of a young nobleman in elegant cloth. This was not a metaphor. The prince’s likeness was made of flames which danced merrily in the air and bathed the room with warmth. It frowned and turned as they entered.

“Your army is captured and defeated. We have come to accept your unconditional surrender,” Denerim said.

“Never! The warriors of true Enoria will no longer tolerate—”

Viv tuned out the man’s babble. All she could see was the prince looking positively princely and even annoyed in this typical way people who think themselves superior have. The sneer. The upturned nose. The vague shame of being seen in the same room. Her deep resentment latched on his fine features, the brown hair that reached his jaw and the circlet adorning his handsome brow. He did look like royalty alright. For now.

“So you refuse to give up the city?” she finally said, cutting through the heroic verbal diarrhea.

“Over my dead body!”

She gave a quick look at Denerim who shrugged uncaringly. Orkan chuckled.

//Unfortunate phrasing, meat.

Viv’s purge cleanly decapitated the nobleman even as he finished drawing his sword with a flourish. The prince’s expression turned even more sour. The fire that made his body shifted when he leaned forward. The height of the altar was designed to allow his reflection to look down upon those he spoke to, one more petty act, but Viv was tall and Solfis, taller.

“You will regret this action. To kill your betters is a heinous crime, punishable by death,” he said in a deep, flowing voice. The sound crystallized Viv hatred.

Another moment tinged with the unmistakable gaze of fate weighed on the traveler’s mind. She dismissed it. Viv stood at a turning point and there was nothing on this planet that would prevent her from walking the path she had picked the instant she heard of the device.

Lancer was out of her grasp.

That would have to change.

“Oh no, the asshole wants me dead, big news.”

Lancer’s face twisted in barely contained fury and she knew she had been right. One of the aspects of modern life on earth was exposure to many forms of content, but on Nyil, this was not the case. Viv wagered that Lancer had been raised in a Puritan environment with clearly defined social roles. She also wagered that people knowing their place was important to one who so readily sacrificed pawns to his great cause.

Prince Lancer had never been roasted by a commoner.

She had to make it sting.

“But we both know that you won’t do anything about it, you coward. You’re going to run back home with your tail between your legs like the glorified robber you are because you’ve already got what you wanted. All those speeches about Enoria and Kazar are just horseshit you fed your goons to part them from their money. You came here, played slaver and thief then absconded into the night with your ill-gotten gains, and you won’t return because the only thing you need is daddy to notice you. You don’t give a shit about those you left behind, they are just idiots you conned, you half-assed circleted highwayman. Fuck off. Solfis, I don’t want to see that cockless fuckwit’s ugly mug one second longer. Turn that thing off.”

//It will be my pleasure.

The prince had grown aghast during her tirade and had tried to interrupt her but she had just yelled louder and steamrolled the conversation. Now that she was done, his outrage finally exploded.

“You DARE! You—”

Solfis picked a small statue from inside the fire image and the spell dispersed. The altar shut down. Silence returned to the room.

Viv felt emotionally drained. Ranting had been an exhilarating experience, but now the consequences of her action loomed and the weight of the other’s gaze pressed on her shoulders. She turned to face their judgment.

“He will come for us now,” Marruk said, stating the obvious. “Maybe he would have left us alone before but now he will come back to wash his honor. You provoked him.”

“Do you mind?” Viv asked, and she found that she cared about the Kark’s answer.

“Will you go find Varska’s body?” the shield warrior asked in return. Viv blinked at the unexpected question, but the answer was obvious.

“I’ll try. Revenants don’t move that much so maybe, with the beacon… Maybe the bodies didn’t wander off far.”

Three months was a long time, even at shuffling speed. God. That fucker.

Marruk nodded to herself.

“One day I may return to my people. I stay with you now because you care. If one day I fall, it comforts me to think someone will look for me and bury me for myself and not because tradition and propriety said it should be so. You also care about Varska and that is why you are angry. You pursue a blood feud. We Kark will always respect a good blood feud. Also, you are from far away so every person you stand for here is a foreigner. It means a lot to me.”

So, that was that. Orkan just bumped his chest with a predatory smile. It changed his face from punk rocker to knife-wielding psychopath.

“Very Hallurian of you, Viv. I approve!”

Denerim just shook his head.

“I serve the god of righteous combat, Viviane the traveler. I can tell that slaughtering unarmed prisoners is bad, but the causes of wars remain a much more nuanced concept. Perhaps you condemned your followers to death and slavery. Perhaps you will triumph and prevent an evil man from ascending to the throne. I do not know, and I will not lose myself in pointless considerations. It is enough for me that you stayed your hand when you could have killed the earth shaper.

“Yeah… but honestly, I don’t understand why Lancer even did those things? Why desecrate the bodies? Why commit a clear atrocity? It’s just evil for the sake of it.”

“As for that, I can answer,” Denerim said. He stepped forward and pointed at the dim altar. A symbol lay on its base: a crowned helmet inside of a circle.

“The sigil of Maranor, Goddess of Power and wife to Emeric, God of Luck and the current head of the pantheon. Only one who has her blessing can set up such a construct.”

“So the prince worships her?”

“Yes, and that would explain some of his morally questionable choices. Maranor rewards those who apply and pursue power without compromise. Making an example out of traitors and sacrificing agents all fit within her values.”

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“Wait, is Maranor a dark god?”

Denerim looked at Viv with pity.

“Not all light gods are benevolent, Viv. There is still a difference between abandoning bodies without burial and eating them to turn into an abomination. Yes?”

“Okay, okay… So he really can’t let the insult go then?”

“If he truly wishes Maranor’s favor, he is obliged to squish you like a bug. If he is to undo the stain on his reputation, he must eliminate you or the other heirs will use his failure against him. Your outburst may have come on the spur of the moment, yet it only hastens the inevitable. He will return for Kazar.”

“Yeah. Okay. Well.”

Viv’s mind stumbled to a halt. She stood victorious in an office with a cooling corpse by her side, blood staining the embroidered doublet. Her allies occupied the room, each one an alien from her perspective. Outside, the army she had gathered was taking possession of the city. She should have felt joy, she thought. Relief and exhaustion competed in her brain instead. Even her anger had fizzled out. It was just too much.

Viv gently slapped her cheeks.

“Right. Enough moping, I want to go help with the wounded first, then we have to create a prisoner’s camp. Wait, where is the earth shaper?”

//I let him go with the other prisoners.

“Right. We need to create a camp for… fuck. Five hundred people? What a nightmare.”

“Not to mention that the new tenants must be evicted. I would like to supervise this, if you agree,” Denerim said.

“Not a political mission…” Orkan moaned, but he shut up after one murderous glare from his mentor.

Viv shook her head and they left. She ordered a city guard to ‘clean the mess’ as she passed by and grabbed Tars from the main square.

“We need somewhere to put the prisoners and the evicted. I was thinking about the fairgrounds with our festival tents if we can find them.”

“Pretty good idea. I’ll get those and the soldiers probably have tents as well. We’ll set a perimeter and start working on getting those leeches out of our homes.”

“Right. See if the earth-shaper can erect walls, make himself useful. Siege specialists must have ways to move dirt around.”

“Ah, I almost forgot about him. Are you going to the infirmary?”

“Yes.”

“Do hurry then.”

Viv went on. She walked past Enorian soldiers sitting dejectedly on the ground, most of them lowering their head when she looked. Many of her fighters saluted or hailed her but something felt wrong. She expected happiness. Instead, the Damocles sword of retribution hung heavily in the air. She had sold this as a reclamation and that was what her side expected. The current war had touched people to the most personal part of their beings, and resentment ran deep in their cold gazes. Denerim, Orkan, Marruk and Solfis formed an unyielding square around her until she entered the temple’s first floor, now reconverted as an infirmary. Denerim used all his life mana on a heavily wounded man then excused himself. Solfis addressed Viv as well.

//There should have been more sniper action during the engagement.