Beyond the Hell Cliffs (28 page)

“You see us getting out of the Pit… and you want to stay here in the Greimere?”  Helkree turned towards him and leaned back against the railing.  “You really do think you’re one of us.”

“
Right now I’m more Greimere than anything else,” Raegith replied.  He looked up through the overhead opening, up to the sky.  “Noriko says that there is a place out there, much further south, where her people study and thrive.  She said they accept all there.”

“
Yeah, that sounds like a fun bedtime story, but I doubt it exists.  The Junies are an odd bunch and wherever they come from, it’s no place for warriors like us.”

“Well what would you like to do once we’re free, then?” Raegith asked, frowning at her.

“What would I like to do?”  Helkree leaned forward towards him.  “I would very much like to ride into the North; right up to your biggest palace.  We’d walk right up to the men who sent you here to die and we would both split their fucking heads open with an axe!  We’d end this whole fucking charade with one blow and then take all of the land as our home and all of the people as our slaves.”

“I’d like that idea better if there
were not several hundred thousand armed men between us and my father.  Also, I doubt you’d get very far into my homeland before someone tried to gut you.”

“Let them try!  Fuck them!” Helkree laughed.
  “I would die happy at the end of a spike just to see the look of those bastards as we charge right up their asses, claws bared, with no other intent than to burn everything before us!  Give me some more time with my Helcats and we can bring them along, tearing even more shit up!”

“
Helcats?  You’re getting more used to having acolytes, I see,” Raegith laughed.  “And you said you weren’t very popular.”

“It’s not me they’re after.  They follow me because I follow you.”  Helkree looked to the left, where a few yards down three girls with similar tattoos on their shoulders
had the entire hall sectioned off.  “They’re determined little shits, I’ll give them that much.  They’re willing to do anything I ask of them in order to be part of you.  There are six of them after I weeded out all of the weaklings.”

“Weeded out?” Raegith asked.

“I put them all through hell to see which ones were really committed,” Helkree replied, smiling.  “Any who were opposed to fighting, any who couldn’t follow orders and any who quit; I cast them all out and these six are who I have left.  Three Lokai, two Rathgar and a tenacious Urufen girl, all of whom are dedicated to you and what you stand for in here.  They’re not just in it for a chance to spend an evening in your bed.”

“But they are in it for a chance to spend an evening in my bed, to a degree, right?” Raegith asked.

“Of course.”

“Can you spare one or two of them, then?” Raegith had that sly look on his face that he got when he wanted something, but did not want to ask for outright. 
“Whichever two you want to reward for anything.”

Helkree rolled her eyes and called out to one of the Rathgar women and then one of the Lokai.

“No, not her,” Raegith said, nodding toward the Lokai girl.  “I’ve been with enough Lokai lately.  They’re starting to lose their appeal.  How about the Urufen girl?”

“I’m running a combat squad here, Raegith, not an escort service!” Helkree growled.

“Come on!  I just need some company.  Maybe a little massage,” Raegith teased.

“Yeah, I know what you’re wanti
ng massaged.” Helkree waved the Lokai girl off and turned down the other side of the balcony, yelling down the other hall.  “Fenra!  Get over here, now!”

Raegith watched as an Urufen girl with spikey red hair and an athletic build sprinted up the hallway to Helkree’s side.  It took only seconds for the young Urufen.
  Like most of her kind, she was extremely fast at running.  She stopped before Helkree and then turned to look up at Raegith.  A bruise around her right eye clashed with her freckled face and Raegith recognized her as the one who saluted him many months ago from where she cleaned the arena.

“Fenra, is it?” Raegith asked.  She nodded.  “You’ll do nicely.”

Chapter 22

Against the backdrop of the Thromdelion, the annual celebration of the founding of Thromdale, King Helfrick sat at the head of his banquet table as the various leaders of Rellizbix carried on.  The Gathering of Minds always coincided with the Thromdelion as most Chiefs, Councilors and Dukes, cousins and confidants were in Thromdale for the celebrations.  It was the most convenient opportunity for all of the matters of business and grievances to be discussed in front of the King and this year seemed little different than others, at least to the visitors.  However, King Helfrick was distracted and had only few words for his guests.  His mind was heavy with some other worry and it was beginning to agitate the other leaders who could get no answer to why Helfrick was not involved in the discussions as he usually was.

For Helfrick, there was only one thing he could think of and his mind would not break from it for any other matter.  It had been over a year now since he had returned from Forster’s Keep and sent Raegith to the Greimere Empire as an ambassador.  Once before he had sent ambassadors to his enemy and twice he had seen it done
in his lifetime.  It was a matter that took only months to complete.  Something had gone wrong.  He had given orders to Hemmil, Pyrrhus and Ebriz to get word sent back to him if there were any problems or if the mission had been compromised in any way.  Even if they had been picked up by one of the regiments on patrol, surely he would have heard something of it by now.  A small group of traitors shipping valuables to the enemy was news no one would want to hide from the King.  Something must have happened after they passed the Hell Cliffs.

“Your Majesty, please, we need an answer.”

Helfrick looked up to see Otho, the chief engineer out of Crane Valley, standing at his seat and looking to him.  All of the others had their eyes on him as well.  The normally vocal assembly was silent and waiting.  Helfrick could not even remember what they were discussing. 

Helfria, his eldest daughter and diplomat in training, bent down and whispered into his ear.
  “Father, the construction of siege weapons… they need your approval.  We’ve been talking about this on and off for weeks, remember?”

“
Has his Majesty been listening at all to this discussion?” Ubrith, the Ambassador from Leafblade asked.  “This is the most important discussion of the entire generation, as far as my kin and I are concerned and you are daydreaming!”

“The Witzer cannon, correct?” Helfrick said, snapping out of his worries over his son.  If he did not get back on track with the meeting, there would be more questions on what he was so preoccupied with and he would have to lie even more to his
assembly.  “From what Chief Otho tells me, and from the numerous letters I have received from the Council, this weapon could revolutionize our defense against the Greimere.  But your concern is…”

“We do not need them, your Majesty!” Ubrith answered.  “The Witzer Canno
n is unnatural, it is completely unsuited to our style of warfare and, though I feel I shouldn’t have to point this out, it can only be used by the Faeir!  I have petitions from all five major clans and even signatures from prominent Saban families voicing their opposition to the manufacturing of this weapon.  The money could be better spent elsewhere.”

“On more Twileen hunters, I suppose?” Councilor
Herod spoke up. 

“The ones we have are sufficient,” Daelith, the Hunter Commander from Cedarfall said.  “Most of my hunters have been re
assigned to the 6
th
Regiment or town militias.  We train men from maturity onward to be combatants, forsaking any other trade skills, and now they receive a fraction of normal soldier wages.”

“The Commander is simply frustrated that his men are obsolete and of no use to
a technologically advanced military such as the one provided by a coalition of Faeir and Saban, my lord.” Councilor Herod did not even glance at the Twileen Hunter.  “Besides, with less coin in their purses, maybe the Twileen youths will be less able to indulge in their debaucheries.”

“Debauchery is
a strange insult to fling about from a people who still practice slavery!” Ubrith retorted.

“Settle down, all of you,” Helfrick said.  “I’ll not have this gathering devolve into a
maelstrom of racial slurs and vitriol.”

“My lord, if I may?” Helfria asked, stepping forward.  Helfrick looked at her oddly, but nodded his head.  She continued, addressing the
assembly.  “Gentlemen, I am not a general or a strategist; my concerns are not military ones.  What concerns me are the engineers and mages displaced by the decision not to commence manufacturing of the Witzer Cannon and the hunters and soldiers who might have benefitted from the funds freed up by that decision.”

“Lady Helfria, you have studied at the Amethyst College to the East, yes?” Councilor
Herod asked.  “It was our honor to host you there and I remember hearing about you from Professor Pericles, who was pleased with your diligence.”

“Councilor, everyone, including our Twileen guests
is aware of my studies at the College.”

“Of course, but I would draw your attention back to the teachings of Professor
Pericles.  His highest economical teachings are of our free market.  In his class, you would certainly have learned these teachings, just as I did when I attended his lectures.” Herod took on a more scholarly tone, indicating to those familiar with him that he was about to say something greatly offensive to several of the other guests.  “Lady Helfria, if you studied under Pericles, then you realize that the Twileens have brought every ounce of suffering upon themselves.”

The Twileen Guests began to groan and complain, but
Herod continued, raising his voice above the protests.  “They refuse to advance their technology and they worship neither the Fates nor the Elements!  If they were worthy, they would not need your charity to keep them afloat.  They would still be Wildlings scrounging out insignificant lives in the dirt and trees if not for Saban generosity.”

“The Faeir would not survive a single skirmish with the Greimere if not for the Saban soldiers, wielding Twileen steel!
” Daelith exclaimed.  “I would match my hunters against the best Faeir Mages in the forests and I would put Twileen craftsmanship to test against any flimsy Faeir technology.”

“Enough!” Helfrick roared.  “Helfria is not done yet.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Helfria said, keeping up the formalities expected of her even with her own father.  She turned to Councilor Herod.  “Councilor, I do not appreciate your attempts to use my time at the Faeir College as leverage for your agenda.  Yes, I studied under Professor Pericles and I consider him a great influence.  Pericles states that only those capable of advancing or enriching a society are worthy of residing in that society, but it is not my interpretation of his teachings that he was specifying Twileens so much as any person, no matter their heritage, who refuses to contribute meaningfully.”

Before anything else could be said,
Tiberius entered the meeting and went directly to the king.  After whispering to him, the color drained from Helfrick’s face and the rest of the guests silenced and turned their attention to him.  Helfrick turned to Tiberius and asked if the information he was given was correct.  When the general nodded, the king looked as if his very soul were draining out of his quickly deflating body.

“Father?
  Fates, what is happening to you?” Helfria asked, ignoring protocol.  She looked up at Tiberius.  “What did you tell him?  What is happening?”

Tiberius
shook his head.  Then the king gathered himself, putting on a face for the group as he stood.  Everyone stood with him.

“
The town of Ganston is in ashes,” Helfrick said.  “The Summer Guard has picked up the trail of a sizeable force moving west across the Wilderness.  They are calling for reinforcements.”

“
Your Majesty, I can have an entire battalion of Hunters moving to join the 9
th
in less than a week!” Daelith exclaimed.

“Send them to the forge, then!”
Herod said.  “We need steel more than we need scouts.  Your Majesty, authorize the Witzer Cannon!  We can have an operational prototype ready to send south in two months if you requisition enough Twileen artisans to the job site at Crane Valley.”

“Helfria, see this meeting to an end, please.  I must meet with my generals right away.” Helfrick motioned
Tiberius to lead the way out of the conference room.

“Fath… your Majesty, I cannot
do this,” Helfria replied.  “I’m still in training.  I don’t know all of the protocals and I don’t even begin testing until next year…”

Helfrick turned and took his daughter by the shoulders.  She was frightened more by the desperation in his eyes than the duty he was unloading on her.  “Helfria, you
are a Caelum and Caelum blood burns brightest when tested.  We are not always completely prepared for that test when it appears; sometimes we are thrust into it way too early.  I’m making you a Diplomat right now, with enough authority to oversee trivial proceedings such as these.  I know you’ll pass the test.”

Then Helfrick was out of the room and marching down the hall with
Tiberius, leaving his daughter staring after him.  He was slightly worried with the amount of pressure he put on his eldest daughter.  She was very smart and mature, more so than any of his children, including Raegith, but she was still only fifteen years old.  His comparison of her to Raegith twisted his stomach and when they were far enough away from the meeting, he pulled Tiberius aside.

“
Tiberius, this invasion… it’s been a year since Raegith would have reached the Greimere,” Helfrick whispered.  “Yet there has been no word from the group we sent.  Nothing!”

“The timing is too close for coincidence, sir,”
Tiberius said.  “We need to convene with the others immediately.”

Before the hour was out, Helfrick was in a small room high in the castle, with a handful of men, all of whom knew about the treaty and Raegith’s group.  Helfrick was grief-stricken and barely spoke, but the others were not holding back.

“I should think this pretty evident to all of us here,” Eramus said.  “The Greimere Emperor has slain the boy, along with all of his companions.  He is insulting us in the only manner available to him because he is a coward who cannot confront us with actual might.”

“There is no way the Emperor, or anyone else could have known who the boy was,”
Tiberius said.  “If that was the case, which it looks as if it is, then to the Emperor Raegith was merely another messenger.  There is no way he could have been trying to insult us with the death of a few soldiers.”

“Then they’re testing their limits.”
Ubrith said.  He was the only Twileen in attendance and was the one who assigned Ebriz, his clansman, to the mission. 

Ubrith
was past middle age for his kind and the grey in his sideburns belied the youthfulness of his Twileen face.  He was from the Storm Line, the row of towns along the western coast and had risen to Warden of the Ports, overseeing all sea trade.  Ebriz was selected by Ubrith and was one of his friends.  The taciturn Twileen man was noticeably upset by the development.

“I agree with the Twileen,” Eramus said, drawing looks from
Tiberius and Ubrith.  “The Greimere are not powerful enough to legitimately bring war to us and the Emperor knows this.  They are trying to see how far they can push the treaty… how far they can push us.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Helfrick said, wiping his face.  “Of course they are pushing the bounds of the treaty.  How long did we actually think this would continue before the barbarians beneath us finally got tired?  How long did we think it would take for those ungrateful
devils to want more than what we give them?”

“Sir, if we act quickly enough, we could prevent them from taking the last few reward settlements.  Sending them home with less loot will send a powerful message…” General Mortimer, Helfrick’s chief strategist said.

“They killed my son!” Helfrick growled.  “I don’t want to send them a message.  Nearly seven hundred years and we have never lost a group of emissaries, not an entire group and not to the Greimere Emperor.  I bet that miserable cur watched my boy die.  I bet they all got a big thrill from being able to put one of mine under their boot!”

“Sir, what are your orders?”
Tiberius asked. 

“We Sabans used to be farmers,
Tiberius,” Helfrick said, staring past the men to the south wall.  “Before we were soldiers and before we were rulers, we only lived for the harvest and the migration of game.  That life is still in our blood, hidden under the iron, but now we are farmers of war.  We sow our war in the dirt of the Greimere and when it rises up, we cut it off at the stalk and then harvest the high morale and peace that comes after.  But when your crop comes up rotten, you don’t try to excise the bad from the good and salvage what you can.  No, you burn the whole fucking thing down to the roots and you start over.”

“We will bring you this fire, my lord,” Eramus replied.  He then turned to look down at
Ubrith.  “Nothing could unite us stronger than this cause.  I would put aside any prejudices against your kind and burn scores in the name of the fallen Ebriz.”