Thank the gods for small favors.
While he waited on the tailor to make final adjustments and add the insignia on, the queen yanked him away again and dragged him to an interior apartment that occupied a corner of the palace. Ironically, Queen Tresea had actually promoted him over his old position in Brindisi. As lead general, his rank automatically called for a suite of rooms in the palace interior.
This suite had more space than he knew what to do with. The main doors opened to a sitting area that had benches and small chairs here and there, with balcony doors leading out into a beautiful water garden. To the left, a spacious bedroom with a low hanging bed that was suspended from the ceiling by four ropes, a sheer net draped over the ropes to deter any night insects, and then another balcony beyond the bed. To the right, there was an office area with a wall of open shelves and a massive desk occupying the center of the room. The rooms had clearly not been in use for some time, as a musky smell pervaded every corner, but they had been kept clean.
Once content that he liked the rooms, she nodded in satisfaction and dragged him back to the tailor’s for a final fitting. Darius did not believe for one second that the queen felt it necessary to do all of this herself. She surely had aides that she trusted to handle such menial tasks. But…at the same time, she had a small smirk of enjoyment on her face as she rushed him from one end of the palace to the other. In fact, if he didn’t know better, he’d suspect that she felt like a child handed a marvelous new toy.
A toy she didn’t have any intention of sharing, either.
Now properly outfitted in the formal uniform of the Niotan Army, Darius trailed in the queen’s wake as she marched for her formal court. She had cheerfully warned him during the outfitting that he would be swearing an oath of loyalty to her before the day was out. Darius suspected he would be doing it before lunch could even be served.
The court’s doors were flung aside, letting the queen pass. Darius paid attention to the two guards standing on either side. They looked at him with open hostility and unabashed curiosity.
Will their attitudes change when I’m sworn to their queen? I wonder.
This time, the court did not stand empty. In fact, the room seemed to be filled to capacity. Everyone here seemed to be of high rank in one fashion or another—Darius saw elegantly dressed women, men in uniform, men
out
of uniform, judges, and even a group of palace runners that had somehow weaseled their way inside. He could not see the glass doors through the throng of people, but his ears could detect voices speaking from some distance, and the tones had an echoing quality to them, as any sound would in the courtyard. So there must be people even there, trying to see.
Darius steadily walked in Queen Tresea’s footsteps, but his eyes darted from one side to the other. People had made a path for the queen, forming a wall on either side. Some hid their animosity better than others, but no one here wanted to see him. Darius didn’t blame them. In their shoes, he wouldn’t either.
However, it did make him question his commitment—could he really lead an army in this country? Would he even get the chance to find out? If he didn’t have at least one assassination attempt on his life that night, he’d be quite surprised.
Murmurs followed in his wake, and while they strove to be quiet, he heard words here and there. No one understood his uniform, or at least, no one had guessed correctly yet. But the uniform did give them pause. Apparently, the queen knew good and well how to manipulate this crowd.
They finally reached the front of the room. Queen Tresea ascended the dais and sank into her chair with casual grace. Darius stopped in the exact spot he had been kneeling in two days earlier.
“My people,” Tresea called in a voice that reached every corner of the room, “many of you already know who this is. General Darius Bresalier. He has been the commanding general that has fought against us for a year. He is the man famous for killing his own king. I have heard his story and I am well pleased. He killed an evil man to prevent more evil from happening.”
Well, not exactly. Darius had killed him for breaking an oath which in turn caused half the capital to be slaughtered. But he didn’t dare interrupt. Tresea obviously had a reason for this version of events.
“I have spoken with the general and we have reached an agreement. He will swear loyalty to me here and now—”
The whole room started muttering, some of them gasping in sheer disbelief.
“—and then he will receive the appointment of lead general.”
That did it. What had been a murmur now became an outcry. Darius winced at the noise level and eyed the crowd around him a little cautiously. If anyone decided to take matters into their own hands, he didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t kill anyone here—it would sabotage every goal he had. And it would just add to the frenzy. Then again, he didn’t know if the guards would come to his aid even if ordered to.
Part of their outrage was because of who Darius was. But only part. In Niotan, the position of lead general rotated every three months, with each general on the council taking turns. Each general took charge of a battle front for three months before rotating out. To appoint
a
lead general was not only against tradition, but it severely curtailed these men’s power.
Surely she could have introduced this idea a little more gradually?
She held up a hand, and to Darius’s amazement, they subsided back into silence. “I know that you are confused by my decision,” she continued as if the whole room wasn’t ready to kill him on the spot. “But you know this man. He is a brilliant strategist. He has proven that on a field of battle time and again. If this man served us, served to protect us, would you not agree that Niotan would be safe?”
A brave soul took a step forward and bowed before speaking. Darius didn’t recognize him, but the grizzled features and white hair spoke of age—and the uniform he wore was alike to Darius’s own. A seasoned general, and no doubt on the council of generals. “My Queen, surely you do not believe that one man and his tactics will save our country? One man cannot make that much difference.”
She smiled at him as if speaking to a willful child. “General Shixi, you told me that over the past year, ever since another commander was appointed to lead the Brindisi army at our borders, that you found it easier to block them. The difference between the army now and then, is it not just one man?”
He cleared his throat uncomfortably and shot Darius a glare hot enough to melt steel.
Darius met his eyes without flinching. Indeed, since he had left, the army posted here had not received fresh troops or a change in officers. Only the commander had changed. Darius had seen their attempts at trying to break through Niotan’s forces. They were, in a word, pathetic.
Either brave or foolhardy, the general chose to continue the argument. “But how can you trust any oath he gives you? This man killed his king!”
“Yes, and for good reason.” Queen Tresea gave him a blinding smile that looked charming on the surface. It made Darius’s survival instincts sit up and quiver. “But you raise a point that I shall address. Raj Quetel! I believe that when your estate was conquered, your wife and two daughters were taken captive by General Bresalier.”
Quetel? Darius blinked and turned to look more carefully at the crowd. That had been early in the campaign, barely two months in, but he remembered the incident well. It had been the only estate they captured that still had the ruling family in it. He had been so disgusted by the Raj abandoning his family there without proper protection that he had taken them in and personally guaranteed their safe delivery to the queen. It had taken nearly a week of negotiations to manage it.
“My Queen, may I speak?” a very familiar female voice asked above the din of the crowd.
“Please do,” Tresea invited.
From the crowd, a young woman emerged. She wore the deep red of a woman of nobility, and her stomach was slightly rounded out with child. Darius blinked at that, as the last he had seen her, she had been only betrothed and not yet wed. But aside from the child within her, she had clearly not changed much. Her dark hair floated around her shoulders as she walked to him, and her almond eyes crinkled up into a smile.
“General. I am pleased to see you well.”
He bowed his head to her respectfully. “Raja Tailli.” When he raised his head, he gave her a more frank study and smiled at her smile. “You glow with happiness. It pleases me.”
“Thanks to you,” she acknowledged. “Perhaps now I can return the favor?” With a wink, she turned to face her peers and her chin lifted in open challenge. “This man gave his word to me and my family that he would see us safely delivered to the queen. He took us under his protection. We stayed within his own tent for a week and not once was shame or harm brought upon us. I know him to be a man of his word. You will
not
question this.” That last had an edge of warning to it.
“Well said,” Queen Tresea acknowledged with a clap of the hands. “Thank you, Raja.”
Darius turned to Tailli and gave her another bow, this one of sheer gratitude. She did not have to step up and defend him, and he appreciated that she stuck her political neck out for his sake.
She returned the bow with one of her own and her smile softened as she retreated back into the crowd.
Tresea’s voice rang out so that it reached every ear that listened. “I will accept this man’s oath.” Her tone added
you will be wise to do likewise.
Darius took this as his cue. He turned back around and knelt on one knee in front of her. His free hand he put on his knee in a gesture of open trust and supplication. The other was a fist that he planted against the ground.
“Queen Tresea of Niotan, I offer you this: my strength until it has failed me, my courage until it is gone, my wits until they have faded, and my loyalty until you release me.” He lifted his head and locked his eyes with hers. “As long as you protect the people of Niotan, I will do the same. You have my word.”
This oath was the traditional one that an Arapeen would use. Darius had no idea what the Niotan version was, nor did he care.
This
oath, he knew that he could keep without his soul paying the price. But whatever they had expected from him, this clearly wasn’t it. The whole room froze, as if they were afraid to breathe, and then everyone seemed to try to talk at once.
General Shixi took two hesitant steps towards him. Darius tracked the movement from the corner of his eye. “General Bresalier,” he asked in a tone that was not challenging, but openly curious, “is this the oath you gave to the dead king?”
Darius did not turn away from Tresea’s eyes. Her eyes held a fierce light of triumph that held him captivated. “It is.”
“Is that why…?”
He knew what he was asking. “He broke the oath.”
So I killed him
hung in the air, unspoken. Several people shifted nervously, clearly uneasy with his direct answer. With a mental shake, he focused back on the task at hand. “Queen Tresea, I am not sure how familiar you are with the Arapeen oath of loyalty. Are you aware that you must swear to me in return?”
“I am,” she responded calmly. “But I must ask this first: General, if I ever fail my people as
that
man did, will you kill me?”
The muttering instantly stopped. People were once again holding their breath, hanging on his every word.
“If you are ever that foolish, then yes, I will,” he answered just as calmly. Inside, it felt like a giant had grasped his heart and squeezed. He took in a slow, deep breath to soothe his rattled nerves before speaking again. “But I do not believe you will. You are a true monarch, My Queen. If I did not believe that, I would not offer you this oath. Not even with the God of Death courting my shadow,” he added ruefully.
She nodded in satisfaction, as if she had expected that answer, and it pleased her. “I knew you would say that. I believe you would, too. Very well, General. I offer you my strength until it has failed me, my courage until it is gone, my wits until they have faded, and my loyalty until you release me. As long as you protect the people of Niotan, I will do the same. You have my word.”
That did it. The whole room went up in an uproar. From the things they were shouting, he couldn’t tell who was in more danger—him or the queen. Darius didn’t hesitate. He rolled to his left, closing the distance between him and the aged General Shixi. The man had enough time to curse and take one step back before Darius was on him. His youth and reflexes were much better than an old man who hadn’t been in a real battle for over a decade—he snatched the sword from the man’s sheath without any real challenge. Spinning on his heel, he raced the short distance to the queen’s dais. He didn’t attempt to leap up on it, though, but instead spun about again. Feet planted, sword raised in a guard position, he faced the tumultuous crowd.
The guards standing behind Queen Tresea had moved one step forward, to stand just in front of her, but he didn’t consider them to be allies at this moment. They could just as well decide to stab him in the back while they had the chance. He had his ears trained on them, and at their first move, he would dive to the right. But they didn’t move.
In fact, no one did.
They all stopped, staring at him in astonishment.
Darius stayed ready, watching them in return, but no one moved for long moments. Hmmm? Why were they all looking at him like that? Didn’t one person think, even for a moment, that he
meant
the oath he had just made?
“Darius,” Tresea called to him, voice rich with amusement, “do you think they mean to harm me?”
He blinked. Didn’t they? Turning slightly, he looked back at her. “My Queen, when angry people start surging forward like that, they normally attack.”
She clapped her hands together like a delighted child and laughed to the heavens. “How wonderful! You reacted so splendidly. No, Darius, you do not need to worry. I quarrel often with all of them, but we have never once come to physical blows. Surely no one would dare with their monarch.”