Authors: Jeffrey Quyle
Carla’s eyes were shining at the mention of the ball. “I won’t have a lady to escort of course,” Alec added. “So I’ll expect
the two of
you to lead the first dance and help set the example for our guests,” he said carelessly, and observed the wordless exchange of glances between the
m
. “Please extend the invitation to include the local gentry in the countryside,” he directed. “I want to include as many people as possible in our community, and make them all feel a part of Valeriane’s future.”
Alec later had the opportunity to speak to Carla privately in a hallway. “I think that as the leading lady of the ball you need to have an appropriate gown,” he told her. “Go to the head of housekeeping and ask her to select a seamstress to design a garment for you,” he instructed, and then he left nothing to chance as he spoke to the head of the housekeepers himself and asked that Carla be given the best gown possible for the occasion.
As it turned out, Alec’s desire for the ball to help openly kindle the romance between his steward and his protégé succeeded, but that success was not the only item of note for the Duke of Valeriane on the evening of the dance. Carla’s stunning gown, which left her shoulders bare and her long neck elegantly emphasized, brought out an appearance of mature beauty in the girl that neither Alec not Charls had seen before; it swept away the last reservations Charls had about romancing the girl who was so much younger than he was, just as Alec hoped, and the Duke delighted in seeing the two dance so many dances together, cheek to cheek, speaking and moving with one another even when the music had ended, oblivious to everything except each other.
In the middle of the ball, after the receiving line had ended and as Alec had already taken the ducal seat from which he could watch over the celebration in the ballroom, a messenger came with a brief communication. “There is a large contingent of people who are at the gate of the palace. They say they are from Valer, and have come to the city in response to your request, my lord,” the messenger told Alec, whispering in his
Duke’s ear
while watching the two lines of dancers, men and women, facing each other on the floor in front of him as the music of the orchestra dictated the pace of their movements.
“Invite them to join us here at the ball, and have them announced when they enter the room,” Alec told the man who had carried the information to him. “And ask the housekeeper to find lodging for them in the palace tonight if possible,” he added, then sat upright again and let the man leave to carry out his orders.
How many men was he about to receive, Alec wondered. A large contingent had been the phrase used by the messenger – would it be seven, eight, ten? With such a number of Ajacii, Alec estimated that he could create a defense in the valleys along the road between Valeriane and Vincennes that would destroy an invading army, especially one that wasn’t led by men who understood warfare and battles. Alec was willing to place his experience of multiple campaigns against the technical knowledge of the leaders of the Avonellene military, an army that had fought no significant wars in decades.
As the music finished, there was a smattering of polite applause, and then the herald began his announcement. “By invitation of his lordship, Alec the Demonslayer, Duke of Valeriane, we receive the warriors of Valer,” and a pair appeared in the doorway, emerging from the shadowed hall behind.
There were a man and a woman, each dressed in black, thoroughly and completely, wearing matching black capes that flared dramatically as they stepped forward suddenly into the hallway and began to walk straight towards Alec’s seat, located on the far side of the dance floor. Behind them, another couple, again a man and a woman, dressed just like the first couple, arrived to stride along the path of their leaders, who were relentless in the arrow-straight lane they followed, causing those who still stood upon the floor to belatedly recognize the need to scramble aside.
A third couple, and then a fourth and a fifth and more came with mechanical precision at evenly timed intervals, so that by the moment the first couple arrived in front of Alec, the last couple, the fifteenth, entered the hallway, and the crowd was silent, quieter than a church mouse, at the extraordinary spectacle they were watching.
The parade of black-clad warriors, each wearing a sword and a pair of knives in their belt, came to a halt in a semicircular formation in front of Alec. Discreetly, Alec waved away the small bodyguard contingent that he maintained in the palace.
“We are the Select of Valer, the warriors who have volunteered to serve the Demonslayer,” the first woman Ajax who had entered the room spoke for her cohort. She was distinguished from the others by a head of tightly-drawn silver hair, hair that was a color at variance with her smooth skin, yet as he examined her face closely, Alec thought he detected a wisdom and experience in her eyes that spoke of long years of life.
Alec stood, and decided that drama was prudent. His centuries of living in the ruling classes of the Michian and Avonellene empires had taught him much about the valuable statecraft of ceremony. Using his Light energy, Alec made the vast room dim, then he brightened the immediate vicinity that he and the Ajacii occupied.
“Impressive,” the silver-haired leader of the Select said quietly.
“I am the Demonslayer,” Alec stepped down to the level of the floor and approached the woman, whose confidence was palpable.
“I am Availlie,” the woman said. She went to one knee, and the gathering of black clad warriors together went down. “My grandfather was Availlen, a companion of yours when you fought Hellmann. For me, raised on his stories, your title of Demonslayer is impressive, but your defeat of Hellmann makes you the savior of our world. Because of all my grandfather told me over the years, I demanded to be the leader of the Select.”
Other than Bauer and Caitlen, the human race had never known about the battle Alec had fought in the mountains with Hellmann, a demigod-like entity that had emerged from a subterranean
prison intent
on world domination. Alec had worked with the representatives of the small communities of supernatural races
who lived in
the mountains to battle Hellmann. His use of their power, integrated with his own ingenaire energies, had enabled Alec to win the battle, and sentenced Hellmann to interment again.
The other races, the non-humans in a sense – the Ajacii, the Lokasenna, and the Sleagh Maith – had known about Alec’s victory, and they had the historical knowledge of Hellmann’s lust for tyranny to understand the ascendant achievement Alec had scored.
“We are here to serve you in any way, to pay the debt we owe you,” Availlie proclaimed.
Alec stood silently for a moment, touched by the honor the Ajacii were giving him. He released his Light ingenaire energies, and clasped his Healer energies. He held his hand out to Availlie, urging her to stand, and as she reached out to accept his gesture of assistance, he allowed a surge of his Healer e
nergy to enter her body, reaching
to every strained muscle, every scratch and blemish, taking away weariness and aches. Her eyes began to roll back into her head as her body was overwhelmed with the comfort that Alec blanketed her with, and the firm grasp of his hand helped prevent her from toppling backwards for a moment, until he ended the transfer of energy.
Availlie’s head lolled for a moment longer, then her eyes, an icy, pale blue color, focused on Alec’s face, and she gave her head a slight shake. “When I was a very young girl, my grandfather told us the stories about you, and he told me that when you fought Hellmann, grandfather did not share his powers with you. He was too proud to give up control of his abilities; he wanted to have total control of them himself, which is something he greatly regretted the rest of his life, after he saw that you won without him, but could have perhaps won more easily if his powers as an Ajax had been shared.
“If what you’ve done is a form of sharing power, I pity that he did not receive the extraordinary pleasure I just received,” she gave a strong smile to Alec.
“There are differences in the types of powers that are shared,” Alec answered. “You received something different from what your grandfather and I would have experienced in battle. Don’t judge him harshly; I might not have been eager to share had I been in his shoes at that time, after all that had happened between us before that.
“Come, I welcome you all,” Alec began to walk among the mass of Ajacii, offering his hand to help the others to their feet as well, treating each one with a portion of his healing power, then reversing his field to return to the dais, where he stood elevated above the crowd. He stretched out his hand to Availlie, motioning for her to step up and join him.
“These are our allies, who have come to Valeriane at my request to help us ward off any invasion or attack that Vincennes might be foolish enough to attempt against us. Welcome them to our festivity and to our city!” he shouted out to the crowd, and he clasped Availlie’s hand in his as he held it high over his head.
The band leader gave his orchestra a cue, and they broke into a festive celebratory tune, causing people to pair up for dancing, and Alec was pleased to observe several of the local gentry approach the Ajacii, asking them for dances. Alec turned to Availlie as they lowered their hands. “My lady, may I have this dance?”
“I’m not a creature of such practices,” she demurely declined. “Your feet would suffer from such close proximity to mine, my lord, and we don’t want to begin our relationship with such an inauspicious injury being done to you by someone who’s supposed to be here to protect you!”
“Join me then for a taste of some of the dishes we have prepared,” Alec dropped the offer to dance, and he led the way to a buffet, where they each filled plates of food, then departed the ballroom for a small chamber where they sat in private.
“What do you know of the emperor in Vincennes?” Alec asked as they took their seats.
“We understand that he has imprisoned his younger brother to prevent the prince from becoming an alternate contender for his throne,” Availlie answered.
“What is the younger brother like?” Alec asked.
“I don’t know,” Availlie answered. “We only know he’s not his brother. He may be just as profligate, just as reckless, or even more so.
“There can be no doubt that the emperor will seek revenge for your dismissal of his toady. That’s why we were so easily persuaded to join you here. We know you’re going to have a war on your hands.”
“We don’t want to fight the battle close to the city,” Alec stated. “There are a couple of locations in the passes where we can fight a winning battle against any army larger than us, now that we have you here with us.”
“It wouldn’t seem that you would even need any Ajacii, from all that I’ve heard about your own abilities,” Availlie countered.
“I need a great deal of help. Already since I’ve returned to Valeriane I’ve needed help to recover from injuries. And with the right help from your fighters, we may be able to fight a war that will require very little bloodshed,” Alec thought out loud. “In a day or two we can take some forces to begin to prepare our ambush, and then perhaps a handful of us could go to Vincennes and find this imprisoned prince, to judge whether he would make a better ruler.”
“What? Skulking and deception to avoid the joys of death and mayhem?” Availlie’s words of protest were belied by the sparkle in her eyes. “We Ajacii were promised a bloody war!”
“I don’t think your heart is in your words,” Alec grinned, and together they planned how to approach the inevitable conflict they expected with the ruler of the Avonellene Empire.
A few days later, Alec led a column of warriors out of Valeriane into a cool autumn morning, headed down the road towards Vincennes. The scouts they had sent out had reported a large encampment located outside Vincennes, so Alec had set his own plans int
o motion. A half dozen of the
Ajacii had left the day before, advancing along the road corridor to eliminate any scouts that the emperor’s army might have out front. Alec counted on the invading army walking blindly into the ambush he wanted his army in position to carry out, in order to maximize the victory that Valeriane would enjoy.
By the middle of the second morning on the road, Alec had his forces begin to move into position atop bluffs that looked down from either side of the road. He stopped to talk with Martan, the commander of the Valeriane forces, placing the man in charge of all the armsmen, and assuring Martan that he would communicate with the Ajacii. Then Alec, Availlie, and Arden, a third Ajax, walked forward and began their journey towards Vincennes. They walked along the road throughout the day, and in late afternoon passed through the Vincennes army camp, a large force of men and cavalry, and a number of siege engines dismantled and waiting in wagons for their journey towards Valeriane.
“A formidable force,” Arden commented as they passed the wagons. “Your emperor does not take your challenge lightly.”
“Yet he’s taking the wrong steps to secure his right to rule,” Alec answered the young man. Arden was an energetic warrior, eager for action. “If he were acting as a wise ruler, he wouldn’t have any challenge to his authority from me, because I wouldn’t interfere with a ruler who treated his people with respect,” a reply that left Arden silently pondering and Availlie nodding her head.