C.O.W: Chapter 29

Keila stood silently behind the red curtain's barring the way into her father's conference room. The commanders had arrived back less than a candlemark ago; their armour was stained and bloody and they had spoke of terrible things. It seemed clear that they had not expected the fight to be quite like it was, she had not been told what exactly happened but she could suspect things. Commander Tris had not returned with Moss and Harral and they didn't seem to answer questions about his whereabouts no matter how she had phrased the question. Commander Tris intrigued her to say the least, Keila could only remember the man as a fighter before he had arrived back in the city: during her time around him in the war he had never spoken about being married or having children. Maybe, as Tris had lost his first son when he was only two months old, he didn't like bringing up the subject? Maybe he didn't think in quite the same fashion about the prospect as she did, granted her mind now firmly rested on the prospect that Seneseral had been killed and she knew her mother, Gaila, was unlikely to birth more Valiquen royalty. Gaila however didn't have a claim to the throne, if anything were to happen to Harondor she would be whisked back by Mise-en-cors; damn external politics she thought. Tris was only nine years older than herself, at thirty six to her twenty seven summers, so it wasn't unlikely he would marry again. Handsome in his own way he was experienced and yet still mysterious to her mind after a decade of being vanished. His inability to return after the fight only aided what had referenced by her handmaiden as a possible attraction for the man who had avenged the man she'd been having an affair with. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Keila saw her handmaiden walking along the corridor towards her. She instantly put her finger to her lips which pursed together, prompting the woman to stay quiet. "Moss and Harral are in there with father" she whispered at the very bottom of her voice, so unlikely to be heard by anyone on the other side of the curtain pointing with her thumb behind her. "They're not telling me what's happened but I can sense that there's something wrong, really wrong. Tris didn't come back from the battle and they had blood everywhere on their armour. Father doesn't like what he's seeing especially at the moment anyway so I think he might call for conscription from the cities". Rachel nodded, knowing that for that to happen it must be big. Keila thought she saw something in the handmaiden's eye's, something sad. "Are you still mourning for Malek?" she asked, still keeping her voice to the bare minimum. Rachel nodded "I miss him aswell, almost as much as I do Datria, but Datria was your brother aswell – you lost twice what I did". She pulled her friend into a tight, affectionate, squeeze wrapping her arms around Rachel warmly.
"I need to get down to the kitchens Keila, but thank you – it means a lot to hear that to me. I think they've just started talking in there again by the way" she whispered, motioning at the curtain. Keila cursed inside her that she might have missed some important piece of information as she stood up straight and put her ear back against the red cloth. She knew that she had undoubtedly missed out some piece of knowledge but she kept her ear there in case anything more came up. This is what she heard:
"Careful" Harral winced as the surgeon carefully dabbed a wet cloth around his wounds, he didn't like it when anything stung; this was stinging like hell right now. Moss was engaged in conversation with Harondor who, at best, had mixed feelings about the situation. Harondor was pleased Galamar was still in the kingdom but, like everyone else, was terrified at the prospect of a shift in the universe's fabric. "What happened to Tris then during the battle?" he asked.
"I'm afraid I don't know" Moss said. "He took control of the left flank and was one of the first to face, whatever it was. One of the captains swore he fell down the cliff with that thing, Harral went out to where it had been and found this" he showed Harondor Tris's shield, blood on the rim, and he sighed to himself. "There was nothing else around, just corpses – but not Tris's" Harral wheezed out from where he sat. The man had barely spoken since he'd arrived back in the city and it seemed that every time he opened his mouth it pained him to do so.
"Harral" Moss began "I can deal with the report. I'm in better shape than you are, I seriously suggest you accept the medic's offer to get you back to your residence where you should rest. Besides, you have Márriére now to help you relax" he added the last bit out of the king's earshot. "I think Murrier has been keeping her going with provisions in your house while you were away so she'll be there". Harral only looked at Moss in the way the commander could arguably expect from his friend.
"I agree with Moss Harral" Harondor said. "Look at yourself, I know you'd prefer to stay and wait it out, finish the report but you're heavily wounded. I don't think you actually understand your wounds yourself they're that major. Listen, go back to your residence, get some sleep. If you really feel up to it later Moss can wake you up for the feast tonight but you're no good to me like this".
Harondor stared at both them in disbelief, he didn't want to go back to his residence and rest. As for Márriére, that was another case entirely. He growled a deep "don't even think about opening your mouth" when the medic behind him was about to join in on the side of the monarch's opinion. He stared around the room again, taking in everyone's looks then, in a huff, stood up, holding his chest where he felt a dull ache and walked off. He waved away the medic who continued to follow behind him requesting he listen to his advice.
"You know" Harondor said "one day he's going to stop doing that. And when that day arrives we'll all be taken back by the shock of it. Now Moss, start back at the beginning – I want to know everything that happened since you left the capital".
*
Tris's body sagged on the steed deeper than the horse's head which he had found in a deserted village around Galamar. The horse was tired from the distance travelled in which Tris had barely stopped for rests since the journey back had started. He still wore his armour but underneath that his skin was deeply bruised with purple marks all across his torso. He suspected he had a few blocked veins down his left arm as it felt numb to his touch increasingly often. His cape was tattered in more places than he could count and it was frankly a wonder any of it was still attached to the rest of his armour. He passed through the great gates on the northern side of the city coming into Valiquet through the military district. Even in the day he had had in the city since killing Herrier the slums had came alive and seemed to riot constantly forcing the gates on all sides of them to be shut. Coming in from the north, though it added a few miles to the journey, made up for it in terms of safety. A captain saw him as his horse dragged its feet across the cobblestones slowly. Tris pushed away his plea to help him, preferring to push on through the city. He didn't know if Moss or Harral had survived the battle, let alone know if they had made their way back to Valiquet. That meant he had to report on the situation, he had to tell Harondor about the Drár anyway, something he didn't look forward to doing in any case. Finally he lost the captain as he passed underneath a portcullis signifying the entrance into the middle district. The middle district led Tris through a maze of streets all verging off in different directions. If he didn't take the right path he could very easily find himself in a street with shops selling anything from 'ancient god dust' to 'vibrant Raddalost lampshades' with everything in-between. That was the beauty of it though and, although most of it had probably questionable origins, it was from these shops that the city gained its income. The middle district also housed the vast majority of wealthy civilians. Over tens of thousands of houses towards one side added to the city's limits taking the bulk of the city to well over a dozen miles in diameter. In many places it was crowded with most roads being only ten feet in length, this made the butchers row even more claustrophobic as the butchers built their shops leaning inwards so that the sun couldn't put the meat off. Tris though, at around midday, in a busy butchers street was easily recognisable with his horse (no matter the shape of it) and his weapons suggested he was heading into the centre of the city on business. People moved out of his way as he urged his mount to edge forward in the midday crowds, everyone fighting to get the best slice of meat for their lunch before the next person in line. At the end of the street Tris turned left as the junction forced him to make a choice. Almost instantly taking a right turn afterwards Tris pushed through the crowds out into a clear area making up city parks. People still moved in and out of his way but, only a few hundred feet directly in front of him now, was another portcullis, this one separating the middle district from the central district. As Tris rode closer to the palace district he looked up at the huge guild tower on its own little island, cordoned off, in the very centre of the city. Rising high up into the sky it now had wooden planks of wood covering up the giant holes where a blast had ripped it apart, at least that was what Tris had been told by Moss. Tris wondered to himself if this explosion in the guild had been caused by the same group of cultists responsible for the damage done at Galamar – it was highly likely. For a start each action was clearly aiming for an attack on Valiquen way of life. Tris's mind was diverted from the thought though when he saw the palace district come clear from behind a hill in the central district. The area of the central district he was traversing at that time was filled with a serene and lush ecology. Great oak trees sat at the top of a fair hill to his left and a wooden fence consistently ran alongside the right hand of the right with the dip in the landscape between it and the guild across his view. Tris turned onto the next road he could and the cobblestones underneath his horse's hooves suddenly became incredibly smooth marble as he began to trot down the road leading up to the palace far ahead with lines of tree's on either side to him. He soon passed under the final portcullis taking him into the district he wanted to be and stared up at the palace, basking against the midday sun high in the air directly on top of it in. Nobles from the royal court passed him as, looking dishevelled, he nodded good day to them his gaze fixing on the royal stables. Tris's horse clip clopped up to the stables and, with finding its feet on a bed of hay for the first time in a long time, huffed a neigh happily. Tris demounted and found that his body still ached as much now as it had when he'd left Galamar. He struggled out of the stables, using his arms to pull himself through the wooden building. Walking with a slight limp that ailed his right leg he meandered towards the palace's huge double doors, his back stooped at an angle he knew mustn't be good for his back. To add to his aches and the general feeling of being exhausted he also had a thumping headache, not a migraine as such, but still infuriating. He noticed Keila standing at the top of the stairs talking to a member of the royal court. She turned in surprise when she saw him limping up the stairs.
"Commander?" she made him jump and it was clear to her he was in a bad state. "Hang on, I'll call for a doctor". Tris waved the offer away, thanking her for the thought anyway. "I need to see your father, is he in the courtroom?" she nodded.
"If you're going to hand in your report you might want to know commander's Moss and Havrason got back earlier this morning" she helped him up the stairs allowing his heavy, muscular body to rest against her slim frame. "I think they were quite worried about you, I can see why. You had better let them know you're okay".
"Really princess" Tris muttered "thank you for your consideration but I'll be fine. I just need to see the king, tell him something and I can sleep this off, really it's nothing". He didn't let on to her that his bruises might have given him more to worry about than he said because Tris had one soul thought in his head: Tell Harondor what happened, he has to know Drár are running free in the world. Keila looked in his eyes as if working out what to do next. Tris pushed her grip of him away and continued to limp into the confines of the royal palace. Arriving at the great double doors which barred the way to the court beyond he placed his arms against the doors and pushed them open, much to the shock of the palace guards who clearly thought he couldn't do it with the wounds he could. The court opened up in front of him and everyone stared at the intrusion to the session. Harondor was the first person to speak out loud as Tris bent down on one knee to make his bow to the king.
"Commander Tris!" he began and was about to continue when Tris finally fell to the number of wounds he bore and fell unconscious. "Medic!" he shouted as a crowd started to gather around him.
*
Two days later
Tris awoke with a dull sensation stiffening up his back muscles. He had came to about two hours after falling over in the courtroom and had to explain his reasoning to the king for the intrusion. "Bloody stubborn as Harral" the king had joked with Moss until he heard what Tris had to say which, when he recounted his full story, scared him deeply. Someone was calling his name from across the room attempting to wake him up: he recognised a blurry vision of his manservant, Braddick, with someone else in the background.
"Lord Tris" he began with a voice that seemed like it had only just broken "the princess Keila has came for a visit, I led her up here so she could see how you were doing". Tris nodded his acknowledgement and Braddick turned to leave the room. Tris looked over towards Keila as she picked up a chair and sat down by his bedside. She wore a lavish scarlet dress that was low cut behind her back and cupped her breasts firmly around the front. The dress, had many different elements to it where specific silks had been woven in but was made mostly from cotton which was abundant in Valiquet and a little better than wool which just seemed to get picked apart a little too easily.
"You still haven't told me what happened" she began. Keila had, once she had heard he was awake, proceeded to sit up with him for the rest of the day and the day after aswell. It was something Tris had been meaning to mention to Harondor when he came around next but so far the monarch had not had the time to check in himself. "And" she continued "why did you lie to me about your wounds? They were clearly worse than you'd said"
"I needed to talk to Harondor about that, what happened" Tris said leaving the topic entirely open once again: he trusted Keila but there were still things he didn't want to tell her, that he didn't want to tell anyone because of the fear it might cause. "But how do you know I was lying about my wounds, I could have telling the truth" Tris almost teased Keila.
"How do I know you were lying?" Keila laughed "apart from falling head first into the floor in the middle of court? Maybe because Harral was in better condition than you were when he got back and he was still told to get some rest by everyone in the room". Keila looked at Tris. "Anyway I didn't come here to argue about that; father's declared a feast for tonight in honour of the victory, naturally you're invited. But first" now it was Keila's turn to tease "I think you should have a shave and buy some finery". Not giving a thought about the finery which he half expected Keila to have already bought as a present for him Tris reached his hand up to the scruffy beard he had been growing almost out of his knowledge since he left Darrian.
"I thought people liked a bit of casual stubble" he joked as Keila leant in to hug him putting her face close to his and whispering into his ear. "I really hate to tell you this" she whispered "but that isn't casual stubble, it's a full beard that's gotten a little out of hand".
*
Tris stood in the foyer just out of the way from the court room where a feast had been prepared. Keila had, almost rather predictably, already bought Tris enough finery to last a lifetime before she had visited him that morning. She had ended up telling him that she didn't expect him to get up out of bed with enough time to visit the tailor's, mostly because when she visited him it was already mid-afternoon telling Tris he had started resting until well into the day to sleep off his wounds. He wore a plain white shirt underneath purple finery with gold lining; dark brown trousers adorned his legs and anyone who saw it could clearly be sure the princess had had a hand in creating his wardrobe. Keila had changed into another gown from what seemed to be an over-excessive wardrobe of dresses. This one was of two colours: half gold half scarlet entwined together for effect wrapping around her body. Tris thought it was not her most flattering but it definitely seemed nice enough for most occasions. Moss and Harral each hung around themselves in the foyer before the doors opened for everyone to take their places. Moss was dressed in a navy blue doublet and, for Harral, Tris saw a red doublet which was otherwise the exact same as Moss's. After asking around they it had seemed they were in fashion when they were bought – though it was out of fashion now neither soldier really cared. They stood with their backs against the wall recounting their own, individual, accounts of how the battle had fared. Each didn't like the fact a feast had been called for the success but, as Moss pointed out, politics demanded it to keep the court happy: damn, stupid politics. Then, in the far corner of the room, the great door opened to the court room and out stepped the king and queen each in full regalia. Resplendent in the night time meal Harondor allowed his wife to invite people into the great room where they could be seated. In the feasts Tris had been a part of during his days in the war Tris knew that, somewhere in the room was a plaque on a table with his name on it. Some said that the customary way of seating people was entertainment enough in itself, though they were usually the older of the court wags who would then beg most of the feast off after only two courses had been served and the bards were yet early in their tales being the official entertainment. Tris didn't actually count how many people were around but he estimated with a soldiers gaze that it must be around one hundred people. Eventually he found his seat and, maybe unsurprisingly, it was next to Keila who looked at him as he sat down and laughed "You actually had a shave" she laughed and he nodded. The king and queen sat next to each other at the head of the main table and, maybe as a sign of trust or friendship with his military commanders, Moss and Harral sat to Harondor's right. Keila sat to her mother's left and Tris soon found her being very talkative, contradictory of her appearances in the courtroom. The feast itself was comprised to be of four courses which had each been cooked by eight top chefs. The first course was delivered perfectly on time as Harondor stood making his speech congratulating the three commanders who were prompted to make perfunctory bows at the appropriate time to much applause. The first cause was a starter of one of the thinnest mushroom soups Tris had ever seen: cream had been dashed in right at the end he noticed to lighten the colour dramatically. All courses were relatively small as there were five of them and the plates were taken away quickly and cleanly to be replaced by the next course soon after. The second course was arguably the most desired to look at, a pyramid of Calamari mounted up on the plates for people to dig into. The rings of giant squid, famously fished in Raddalost, had been fried up in lightning speed and covered entirely by a batter encasing them whole. The next course was a meat course and Tris, feeling quite fat as one of the central figures of the occasion, looked on happily at the pork ribs beautifully roasted on a spit found their way to his plate. At the end of the third course the entire room went quite, almost like it had not been scripted and the dishes for the fourth, and final, course left the kitchens in the hands of the respected waiters. As was customary the first dish was handed to the monarch and, as the dish touched the wooden table, a loud crack emanated through the room pushing everyone not in a chair onto the ground with a powerful shockwave that sent the closest people flying into the wall splintering the table into hundreds of wooden shards. These were namely king Harondor, queen Gaila and commander Moss. Keila screamed out in fright and. Appearing out of nowhere, from behind the waiter who had placed the dish down, robed entirely in black, was a tall man whom no-one could see the face of. Another cultist Tris thought.
The cultist suddenly summoned a cruel sword from the air into his hands which he used to slice the waiters neck open, throwing him to the ground, dead before he'd even hit the floor. Tris and Harral each reached for their swords before realising they hadn't been allowed into the room without it and then, in frustration, they each leapt up without a weapon to defend their king. In mid jump though they were stopped by the cultist who snapped his fingers in the air with another loud crack and everything in the room froze in place. Tris couldn't move, couldn't bull rush the cultist who casually strode forward over the shattered table. The cultist picked up Harondor by the scruff of his neck with strong muscles and held him in place as the king came back into life and struggled for his life, trying to wrench the cultist's hands away. Tris suddenly felt his muscles relax and he burst free of whatever force had held him back, at the same time though the cultist sent his sword flying through Harondor's ribs . Blood spurted out of the king's mouth as he dropped to the floor slowly as if time didn't run its true course. The cultist turned, realising that it couldn't have held Tris back to face him as a bright golden light enveloped the king. Tris plunged his hand into the king's body and drew loose the sword in his ribcage. Time suddenly sped up but only Tris and the cultist assassin could move, everyone else was still frozen in place except for Harondor who slumped over to the floor as blood fell from his death wound. The aura around him ceased as soon as Tris took hold of the sword and anyone could see the milky substance in his eyes glaze over his pupils with the monarch's heat beating one last time. The golden glow now started to gain in power around Tris but the soldier still moved to kill the assassin swinging violently with his weapon and then, at what Tris thought to be his last attack, he leapt up and caught the assassin completely off guard as he sliced the man's head clean off. Time suddenly snapped back to a normal course and everything continued.