RE: Monarch - Chapter 207: Fracture XIV

Sevran and Maya were quietly conferring, while Zin looked up first. For someone so consistently unflappable, he looked unnerved. He pointed to a long dark ear with a grim expression. “Heard everything, conveyed it to the others. We’re trying to come up with a strategy.”

“Caught the bit about runners?” I asked, my mind racing.

Sevran nodded. “Sent my personal servant off the moment that was confirmed. The regiment should be assembled shortly.”

“Where’s Atherya?” I asked after the half-elf banner lieutenant. She’d been the least pleased to serve under me, and her silent refusal to take part in the spar was a way to remind me of that. As if the gods themselves had heard me, a silhouette plummeted from the high wall behind us, and she landed gracefully a few feet away.

Out of everyone, Maya and I were the only ones who jumped.

“Present and accounted for,” Aetherya announced, sounding awfully put upon for someone who had only just been bothered to show up.

“Lord below.” Maya breathed.

I stared at the elf. Despite her thoughtless entrance, she was dressed for combat, bow and full quiver on her back. “What? So you were just up on the wall, waiting to be summoned?”

Aetherya nodded minutely, not bothering to offer any further explanation.

“She does that.” Zin said. “Think of it as functional brooding.”

“And unnecessary theatricality.” Sevran sighed.

“You had need of me. I am here. What then, is the problem?” Aetherya asked, panning the other lieutenants with a dull look.

“Yes, your grace. Gratitude for deigning us with your presence. Only us being down one lieutenant instead of two won’t matter with that feckin’ war elephant in the room.” Mari chucked a thumb behind her. “He’s clearly planning to wade in as soon as there’s an excuse. Sevran and Prince Inferno in the mix, we might stand a chance if we attacked all at once, holding nothing back.”

“Not the wisest move, politically.” Zin murmured. “If we set that pace he will meet it. And if against all odds we survive, we will gain the reputation as the regiment who attempted to turn a contest into a coup.”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s the only move we got. But there’s a problem.” Mari looked behind her at my father’s personal guard, lingering in the back. “The Black Shields holding up pillars behind him are doing a good job of looking casual, I got a strong feeling they ain’t.”

Sevran nodded agreement. “We were just discussing that. The Black Shields’ loyalty exceeds their discipline. His men will interfere if the odds turn against him, even if they have direct orders to the contrary.”

Maya bit her lip, then spoke. “What if I get in close? I can incapacitate him without causing more harm than necessary and fix him after we find Annette.”

It was one of the first ideas I thought of and, unfortunately, discarded. I shook my head. “Good idea, but with his experience, he’s aware how much of a threat a life mage poses. He called you out specifically. My guess is, of everyone here, you’re the one he’s least likely to lose track of.”

And the most ready to put down.

“We’re not talking about besting him in single combat. All it takes is a single touch.” Maya argued. “I can do it.”

I rubbed my face. “First, consider his build and choice of armor. He’s tall enough that he towers over most of us, excepting Sevran. Training leathers cover him from foot to neck. Meaning not only will he be considerably faster than usual, you’ll also have to touch his head. Now think back, hard, to our skirmish outside the Enclave. How fast he was. He was wearing plate then. Are you faster?” When Maya looked discouraged, like I’d shot her down out of turn, I amended. “It’s not rhetorical, Maya. I honestly don’t know. We haven’t sparred, and you saw plenty of combat in the Sanctum that I wasn’t there for. Are you fast enough to land a touch, knowing we may not be able to pull his attention away from you?”

Her brow furrowed, and she spoke aloud, as much to herself as to us. “If he was in plate… maybe. I have my staff on hand, and the mana conductivity of xescalt isn’t widely known because of the shortage. That would make up for the lack of reach… but if he’s faster than he was then?”

Sevran put a hand on her shoulder. “There’s wisdom in knowing one’s limits.” He looked back towards where King Gil waited for the challenge, like a barbarian in a foreign land. “But if he engages us the way I suspect, this avenue is moot.” The infernal’s mouth thinned.

“Care to share with the group, Sevran?” Mari goaded.

“The king will resort to insurgent tactics. The rational choice when outnumbered.”

“He’s right.” I realized, slightly horrified at my oversight. It was right there in his lessons. He’d hammered into me that If you found yourself taking on a superior force, you needed target the supply lines and healers first, skilled mages and casters second, whittling both groups down until they could no longer service the army you intended to undercut. If he succeeded, leaving us with no quick method of tending injured troops, the already difficult situation became an order of magnitude harder. “She’s our only healer relevant to such a short timeline. The king will target Maya immediately, aiming to incapacitate.” I stepped away and paced, irritated with myself for missing such an obvious detail. “None of this would be a problem if we had greater numbers.”

Aetherya shifted uncomfortably.

“But the moment we call for troops he descends on us.” Zin finished.

Mari crossed her arms. “So we’re back where we started. Plenty of grass around. I’ve seen how fast that hornfire of yours spreads, and it’s obvious you can control it—guide it somehow. Think you could set this whole place ablaze and… encourage… him to stand down? At least temporarily?”

A previous discussion I’d had with Vogrin popped into my head. “If he was anyone else, sure. But I tried that tactic before outside the Enclave, and it didn’t work.”

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“What happened?” Zin asked immediately, pressing me on my vagueness.

I paused. A small voice of paranoia whispered in my ear that revealing Vogrin’s theory about a powerful void mage interfering on the battlefield was a terrible idea.

But if Vogrin was right, the void mage was a serious tactical threat. The exact sort of thing I needed to keep my regiment—or at least their command—informed of. Still not entirely confident, I glanced at Maya, who after a moment, nodded.

“There’s a good chance he has a powerful void mage at his disposal. One capable of exceeding the contact limitation.” I admitted.

Zin drew in a sharp breath.

Mari groaned.

Aetherya, looked mostly unimpressed. Considering her banner was mostly ranged, a void mage would create the least problems for her.

Unlike the others, Sevran just peered at me. “What evidence do you have to that end?”

I grimaced. “It’s hard to explain. My casting was subverted multiple times that day, like there was some sort of outside interference. Didn’t really nail it down as void until I tried to create the exact sort of firestorm Mari’s imagining, and it just… failed.”

“That’s never happened before?” Sevran pressed. “Is it not more likely you simply miscalculated, lost focus on the magic?”

“Impossible.” Maya said. “The grounds outside the Enclave are as verdant as they ever were. Dantalion flame is, in many ways, an enhanced version of its sister magic. It yearns to burn, to consume. And Cairn was drawing on its raw, elemental form. If he had made a mistake, there would have been more fire running rampant in the chaos, not less. It had to be void.”

“Fascinating.” Sevran’s jaw worked furiously. “I have more than a passing familiarity with void. Like many infernals, as a child, I was both terrified and fascinated by it. From the considerable time I spent in the archives, I can say, definitively, there’s never been a record of the sort of usage you’re describing. Not even amongst legends.”

“Maya’s right.” I shrugged in frustration. None of this was helping us. “Unlikely or not, it happened.”

“While I’m tempted to prolong this discussion—I suspect this discovery may lie at the very root of why Uskar’s armies have been successful in so many conflicts within which they should have been overwhelmed by superior magic, for us, it changes little.” Sevran mused.

“Seems like it changes everything.” Zin said irritably.

Sevran waved the argument away. “Until you consider the context. If such a mage exists, capable of derailing powerful magic from a distance, they would be amongst Uskar’s most valuable and closely guarded secrets. That there is no record of them is not an accident. The King has been careful with this asset. And our captain is making a considerable show of trust merely by telling us his suspicions. They will not interfere unless there is no other choice.”

“Like a raging inferno.” Mari groused. “So there goes that feckin’ idea.”

It annoyed me to no end that this was likely exactly what King Gil wanted. It would be so easy to lose hours and potentially, the challenge itself, by miring ourselves in ways to subvert the threat he posed, only to be left with too little time to find my sister. If I was willing to burn a restart—and from the way this discussion was going, there was a good chance I’d be forced to—that would solve most of our problems once I knew her location, we’d have the entire day to deal with the king. As much as I wanted to conserve the magic that fueled my returns, that was looking like the only viable option.

“I have a card to play.” I admitted. “It involves magic, and if I do it right, it shouldn’t draw the void mage’s intervention and should make it considerably easier to keep the king indisposed. But with the rest of the regiment out of play, whoever stays will likely not escape, meaning we need to split into two groups.”

Again, my half-elf lieutenant shifted uncomfortably.

“For the gods sake, Atherya, speak if you have something to add.” Sevran snapped. He’d appeared almost placidly calm to this point, but it seemed like the pressure was getting to him.

The typically aloof half-elf looked trapped beneath the many eyes that turned towards her. “Hm.” She cleared her throat and regained a measure of composure. “What if we… had a small contingent of troops at our disposal.”

Sevran stared at her, unamused. “Even if we were to send a runner to pull such a group, the king would not wait for them to get here. His whisperers travel more quickly than ours. A pointless hypothetical.”

Surprisingly, Atherya didn’t seem dissuaded or offended by this. If anything, she looked more nervous. “Before I say anything else, I would like to point out that the Valen house and the term “Sparring accident,” are almost synonymous. And that before our captain—who is of House Valen—invited us to spar, the last time we saw him, he was weeping over a grave, in threat of serious soul-damage.”

That was all it took. The mere mention of Lillian felt like a punch in the throat. A ringing in my ears return, and I tasted bile.

“What’s that?” Mari sniffed at the air. “Smells like treason in here.”

Before the half-elf could rise to the provocation, Sevran held out a hand. “Enough. Speak plainly, Atherya.”

Atherya glanced at me, genuine fear in her eyes.

I fought through the malaise threatening to drown me, struggling to speak. “Whatever you did. If… If it helps us here? Gives us an advantage we wouldn’t have had otherwise? All is forgiven.”

“There are a number of archers embedded on the walls and the surrounding rooftops.” Atherya admitted.

“How many?” I asked.

“Fifteen of my best.” Atherya stared down at the ground. “They were only to take action if the exercise… escalated.”

What she’d said before finally clicked into place. When I’d invited them to spar, my banner lieutenant had feared the worst. She’d set up archers around the sparring grounds in case she needed to interfere, in case I shared my father’s penchant for taking things on the training field too far. On one hand, it stung. I thought I’d demonstrated considerable competency and restraint during the mock battle, enough to dissuade this sort of fear.

On the other hand, I couldn’t be happier with the result.

“Thank you, Atherya.” I said, truly meaning it.

She looked up, her visage noble and proud. “Am I to be relieved of command?”

Even if it’d come from a place of fear and treason, she’d given us the piece we needed.

Finally, I shook my head. “No. Even if I hadn’t promised. You took action out of loyalty to your fellow lieutenants. I’ll never punish loyalty. Though I hope that one day, I’ll be on the other side of it.”

To her credit, Atherya seemed to acknowledge the statement as genuine, absorbing it silently, without an air of hostility.

Five minutes later, I strode toward my father, pace accelerating the closer I drew.

He watched my approach, unimpressed. “Seeing how you left your troops behind, I assume you’re here to negotiate.”

“No.”

“No?” I was pleased to see the clipped response had thrown him off.

Need to make him angry.

“You know what I think?” I stalked towards him furiously, fists clenched at my side. “I think you had this planned from the start. And I think you pushed me towards it. Because you’ve seen what I can do. And you’re too much of a coward to risk your dignity in a straight fight.”

He squared up, yanking his sword from the dirt and holding it at his side. “Spineless provocation accomplishes nothing, boy.”

“Maybe I learned it from you. Least I didn’t pick up your habit of hiding behind the skirts of innocents and threatening the weak as a bartering tactic.”

His eyes narrowed.

Hit.

“If you need to be reminded of why I am king, that is a lesson I’m happy to administer.” He growled.

“Well? Go on then. Teach me.”

I drew my sword, igniting it with violet flame, heating the blade until it was almost white.

And charged.