'This is an absolute, unbelievable, terrifying nonsense!' Belannaer's eyebrows have arched almost perfect semicircles as he walked back and forth the Council Room. 'Ridiculous.'
Repanse somehow felt she was responsible for Teclis' people laying drunk all over the castle, and she stayed still as an old mighty wizard seemingly was holding himself from setting the castle on fire. 'The Asur lay on the dirty floor after the feast with some human barbarians.' Repanse felt his burning gaze slide over her. No, she wouldn't allow him to call her people these words. Holding the grip of the Sword of Lyonesse, resting in the scabbard, she stepped forth. 'Master Belannaer, I would demand that you ask me to excuse your words, if that of course you don't want to tell them to all of the noble warriors you have insulted.' He stopped in the middle of the room and slowly turned his head. 'Your people are neither proud nor true warriors. You have no idea what's coming here soon, WHO is coming.' He looked at Prince Tyrion with his old gray eyes wide open. 'How can we stand a chance with these debauchers inside the city walls?'
'The knights of Bretonnia are the finest horsemasters of the Old World. We right to battle in the name of the Lady and crush Norscan and Chaos invader from the North, Orcs and Goblins from the East, Beastmen from the South. Don't make us crush our lances upon the arrogant fools from the West.' She looked stubbornly and bravely at his eyes as they devoured her. 'You have no idea who will be here in a matter of days, do you?' His expression suddenly changed, the brows falling an inch down and inch apart from each other. The Archmage stepped back to the round table and sat on its corner. 'Prince Tyrion,' he looked at him sadly. 'Tell human the truth.'
Tyrion was still wearing his enchantingly detailed suit of armor. He leaned against the column, arms crossed on the chest. He looked at Repanse with the eyes full of despair and vengeance. 'The Witch King is an overlord to all Druchii. He was once one among us, but he betrayed the Second Phoenix King and poured his hatred and envy into the cup he gave him. The Sundering of our race claimed many lives and properties of culture and turned Malekith's home kingdom of Nagarythe into a wasteland. He, his mother, and their minions fled to the Northeast and established their dreaded kingdoms on the frozen shores of Naggaroth.' The Prince took a deep breath and continued. The story seemed personal to him, and she saw his pain. 'The last time he was seen was over 200 years ago, and the last time the Asur have defeated him was 769 years ago. Only Khaine may know what the witch king was up to this time.' He clenched his fist against the column.
'And who was the first Phoenix King?' Repanse wondered.
'Aenerion the Defender.' Prince Tyrion stepped forth. 'I am of his blood – and my family carried his Dragon Armor through thousands of years. But so is Malekith…' He looked down almost as he was afraid to show his grief and weakness.
'This makes Malekith and his mother-' she began.
'-almost six thousand years old,' Teclis continued. 'Their martial and arcane prowess are unmatched. All of us here can't counter their strength.'
Repanse overlooked the room and saw five indecisive Elves and one old human, calmly drinking the mint tea in the corner of the room. 'Perhaps it is not too late for you to ask your kin for help. There are bound to be many formidable Elf warriors willing to risk their lives facing against our enemy.'
'Master Belannaer,' Loremaster Talarian began, 'what of Eltharion the Grim?'
'We have not heard from him for seven years now. He was last seen sailing East to wrestle the Goblins.'
'Prince Imrik?' Teclis asked.
'He refused to join us.' Tyrion's eyes burned with anger. 'He told that protecting King Finnubar and the Everqueen was his priority.'
'Is there any Elf as old and skilled as Malekith and Morathi?' she wondered. Repanse saw the hope inflate in Archmage's eyes only to slowly fade away. 'After events of the Sundering, a young Prince of Nagarythe gathered his loyal supporters and disappeared into the forests and snows of Naggaroth.' His heavy brows seemed to be covering his sight. 'He is feared all across the Drachau holds and small slave ports. The Druchii scare their poorly behaved offspring with the tales of an Elf with moonlight hair, seeking vengeance upon all them. He comes and leaves swiftly, leaving no Druchii alive. In ties of dire need, he is spotted by us and carries Asur to victory in the most hopeless situations.'
'So there is hope then?' Repanse wondered.
'We can not call upon him, and only Loec knows if he can follow the Witch King to the coast of Araby,' Teclis answered.
They stood still seemingly for ages until Repanse stepped forth, 'Chevaliers de Lyonesse have pledged to protect this world from the forces of Chaos and all of their minions. We will help your city, Master Rahmad, for you have proven a worthy ally and a dear friend to me. But we won't fight for you, Master Elf,' she looked at Belannaer. 'Our noble knights and brave warriors will protect the weak from the bane of the Druchii. Seven thousand cavalry, twelve thousand infantry, six thousand longbowmen.' She looked Teclis in the eyes. 'For Bretonnia I fight.' She drew the Sword of Lyonesse and pointed it horizontally. 'We can achieve much together,' Teclis nodded and crossed his staff with her sword. 'You have my bow,' Vanya stepped forth. 'And my walls,' Rahmad approached them. The bright light illuminated the room as Prince Tyrion drew Sunfang. 'We must preserve this world.'
'And the Asur, guarding it from the forces of Chaos,' Belannaer continued.
Two staffs and two swords crossed.
'We must pay Hag a visit,' Prince Tyrion stated.
…
The company slowly descended steppe stairs. The thin corridors and ladders refused to end, or so it appeared to her. By Lady's name, how old is this city? When Morathi imprinted the road to her cell in Repanse's mind, she did not quite comprehend the scale and the distance. The Sun must be rising now. The alcohol in the blood and tiredness after dance, fear, and sleepless night have had their effect on Repanse. The torch in Rahmad's and Talarian's arms illuminated the bloodstains, hieroglyphs, and strange triangle signs on walls. She knew she wouldn't get lost when she will be informed to do her bidding to save Henri, but Repanse still tried memorizing the turns they take. After seemingly endless and silent journey, she saw them stop near the old wooden door with two keyholes. Rahmad and Talarian slid their arms in the inner pockets and picked up the bronze keys. The door opened with deafening noise. She followed Rahmad into the room, looked up, and didn't see the ceiling. The light of two torches was devoured by endless darkness. Almost sensing her awe, Prince Tyrion commented 'let me pour a little more light' and slowly drew Sunfang. The burning blade illuminated the void behind them, and the newcomers gasped in shock. Repanse saw a long row of cells, where in agonizing screams the skeletons rested. They were almost mummified or covered in spider webs, laying in most twisted positions with mouths wide open. Tyrion and Belannaer looked at Rahmad with disgust. 'For your information,' he awkwardly stated, 'when I first discovered this chamber they were already there.'
Tyrion turned his head to the right to take another look at the horrifying death scenes, preserved in bones. 'What ruler could order such merciless carnage?'
'This city is settled in an ancient land. It was not always called Al-Haikk, and this region was not always known as the Coast of Araby,' Rahmad stepped forward so everyone could see him. 'The ancient evil lurks in sands of the desert and shadows.' He looked up at the ceiling, still unable to be seen beyond the darkness. 'The evil of great strength and intelligence. If there was anything I was able to uncover about this place in the many decades of my life, it is that it is carefully hiding itself from the investigators.'
'You are right, Master Rahmad,' Belannaer responded. 'I also sensed the presence of it as I entered your city.' Archmage's staff started glowing with a bright starlight, as he looked up. The void still hid the ceiling. 'This is an ancient place. It may be older than the Witch King himself.'
As the Elves and Master of the City discussed the secrets of the chamber, Repanse and Vanya took off to examine the cells with a torch they borrowed from Master Rahmad. The chill scenes sent shivers down her spine, but curiosity guided Repanse and her newfound friend along the rotten bronze cells. She saw a person holding his stomach, a mother covering the toddler, an old greybeard leaning against the wall in acceptance of his fate. They will always find their company, she knew it, but now they wandered further and further. When they reached the furthest corner, Vanya saw a thick ragged book, covered with sand, dust, and spider webs. She picked it up carefully and showed the cover to Repanse. Neither of them could read it. When Vanya wanted to put it back, Repanse stopped her. 'Wait, let's show it to Master Rahmad. I think he did not see it before.' They hurried to the distant source of light.
'Master Rahmad,' Repanse was somehow afraid to say anything too loud in this chamber. 'Have you seen this yet? Vanya handed him the seemingly heavy book. Confused, Rahmad tapped his index finger on the cover. 'I can not read it, Vanya. Can you?'
'No,' she replied.
'May I-' Belannaer stepped forth. He gently took the book from Rahmad's hands and blew on the cover. Repanse saw his eyebrows rise and the pupils shrink unnaturally. With low voice, he looked at Vanya. 'Where did you get this, child?' Vanya uncertainly pointed her right hand towards the distant corner. 'This will go to the White Tower,' Belannaer continued with distinguishable notes of terror and excitement and turned to the exit.
'Nothing leaves Al-Haikk without my permission, Master Archmage,' Rahmad noted. It did not stop the wizard. 'Master Belannaer?' he called.
'My Lord, what of the Hag?' Prince Tyrion asked.
'You deal with her by yourselves; it was your idea, after all, Prince Tyrion. This is of far greater importance,' his voice left the chamber.
'Do you know the way?' Rahmad wondered.
'The mages of Saphery are renowned for their memory, Master Rahmad,' Teclis put his hand on Rahmad's shoulder.
'And for their arrogance and foolishness, I suppose!' the irritated Master noted. 'Curse the wizards and their rugged books. Is it what magic does to your minds when you grow older?' He looked at Teclis and Talarian.
'Whatever happened here, let us not waste time on discussions,' Prince Tyrion interrupted. 'We must meet the Sorceress and go up to spearhead preparations for the defense of the city.'
'A wise idea, Prince Tyrion,' Rahmad agreed.
As the company reached the door on the opposite end of the chamber, Repanse's sight slid to the right, where Vanya found the stumbling book. She heard the door screech and entered the room. In front of them, a beautiful pale woman sat, immobilized by chains and arcane magic. Repanse felt her cold eyes look at her before she looked at anyone else. Teclis and Talarian looked at each other and nodded. Loremaster carefully removed a lightly shining muzzle. Teclis picked up a golden jug from the corner of the room and carefully gave her the drink. Morathi greedily accepted. 'What are you doing, brother?' Tyrion's eyes bulged. 'She may be our mortal enemy, but now she is our prisoner. The Asur don't kill their prisoners.' Teclis looked at the Hag, catching the breath after drinking for so long. Her pale chest went up and down as she arrogantly watched the brothers talk about her. 'The Asur can not afford such hospitality.' He pointed Sunfang to Morathi. 'You will thank me for that, Teclis, but I have to tell you that the Asur don't come to negotiate with their mortal enemies.'
The swing of Sunfang enflamed the air. Never did Repanse think she could draw the sword so quickly. The steel collided with steel inches away Morathi's head. Tyrion looked at Repanse, insulted. 'Who are you to cross blades with the Heir of Aenerion, peasant?' His raging eyes reflected the flames of his ancestral sword. 'I am the chosen of the Lady,' Repanse hesitated, 'and I protect the weak and serve the forces of order,' she lied.
'Enough, brother,' Teclis interfered only to draw the rage of Tyrion.
'Has the Sorceress twisted your minds?'
'Don't let your anger pour on your allies,' Vanya stepped between the brothers. 'Save it for the battle, Prince Tyrion. Your lineage is a great gift and a curse. Shine the wisdom and strength of your ancestor,' she bravely looked in his eyes. Outnumbered but believing in his righteousness, Tyrion proudly put Sunfang back into the scabbard.
'Prince Tyrion,' Morathi teased, 'why do you wear the armor of my beloved husband?'
'Don't preach me about love, crone,' he snapped, 'you are not capable of any.'
She didn't stop. 'I would love to remember the good old days when Aenerion loved me every day. You are just like him, especially in his armor,' she smiled. 'Can I fuck you?'
Enraged, Tyrion sat down, putting his face right in front of her, and growled, 'Can you ask your son to do that?'
'We do not choose who we love, do we, Prince Tyrion?'
Terrified, he leaned back and looked at his brother. For some strange reasons, the faces of the Elves were at great unease. Prince Tyrion finally found his words. 'When your dreaded lover comes here,' he almost whispered, 'I will cut him down. And come for you. The Asur will live. And you will die.'
