Tellyth marched down the hallway towards the King's quarters, glad that his bodyguards were not with him. It would not be good for the troops to see him as unsettled as he was. The skirmish had been bloody, and they had taken it as badly as he. The fault lay with him, of course. If he had been more vigilant, perhaps…
No, it was a useless conceit, to imagine that he could have somehow avoided the battle. It had been demanded by the King himself, a show of strength to display the foolishness of questioning the Ulluthani. The Mayanar had been disciplined, their fighting forces decimated, and now he was left to clean up the mess.
He ached for the blissful oblivion of vosin.
He had seen the anger in the eyes of the remaining Mayanar troops when he had returned. Like the Sillinstreed, they would likely desert come the morning, after the rumours of the force's exploits were confirmed. Madness, as the Seer had prophesied. Sheer, unadulterated lunacy, as the King's ear fell more and more to the cabal of "advisors" who surreptitiously took greater hold of the governance of the world.
It had started with that fool, Belasys. After the discovery - or "discovery," as Palail had sarcastically intimated - of the Sillinstreed emblem in the burned village, he had campaigned for bloody restitution. The council had been in uproar, allies to the Polassi insisting that a blood price be paid and the Sillinstreed insisting that they had never attacked anyone. The King had sided with the Polassi, and sent Tellyth out to render justice. They had resisted, for a time.
Events had just worsened from there. More and more of the tribes had joined with the Polassi or against them. The Mayanar had been caught in the middle, too antagonistic to the Polassi to allow an alliance, yet not valuable enough to court as an ally. Tellyth could see it happening, had advised the King against the word of the Polassi and their supporters - all to no avail.
Blood on his hands. He stopped to take stock of it. When had that happened? It had dried already, and flaked off when he rubbed his palms together. The Mayanar chief, certainly, his cut throat spewing the last of his blood over Tellyth's saddle. Tellyth had killed before; in close quarters, in battle, there was little choice except to cut and thrust when one could. He had never been bothered by the guilt. He was doing his duty, protecting the rightful rulers of this planet and therefore the people.
Why, then, did his mind keep returning to the eyes of the Mayanar noncombatants, reflecting the light of their homes put to the torch?
He told himself that what was necessary was not always just.
But that did not mean it was wise, either.
Reaching the doors to the King's quarters, he knocked quickly and entered. The guards allowed him entry without comment on his appearance. The receiving room within was sizable, the walls covered in golden scrollwork and chased in opulent detail by generations of artisans. Every piece of furniture was exquisitely crafted, from the lounging chairs that clustered around a complex arrangement of pipes that could be filled with heady corbua to the delicate array of mirrors that occupied the opposite wall.
A servant noticed him, whispering quietly, "Majesty Miythis does not wish to be disturbed, war-leader."
Tellyth ignored the man, striding forward into the living quarters. Past the heavy wooden door into the private dining room, then the flimsy gauze that demarcated the bedroom, he found the King himself, sunken into a pleasurable haze by the attentions of a pair of the new young courtiers brought to the palace by the Polassi when they had invited themselves into the eastern wing.
The courtiers noticed Tellyth and practically leapt off the King, shying away from his gaze. Miythis only chuckled at their discomfort. "Our noble general returns," he said with an almost sleepy grin. "Has the world been put aright?"
Tellyth allowed a moment for the king to make himself presentable. Miythis did not take advantage of it, but the 'gifts' of the Polassi took the opportunity to squeeze past him, averting their eyes. Ever since Liriel had been exiled, the King had accelerated his degeneration into this venal sybarite, as though it had only been fear of the Seer's return that had kept him from indulging himself to the fullest. Gone was the anxious, terminally cautious politician that Tellyth had grown accustomed to.
"At dawn, I met with their chieftain Jhira to discuss the terms of their surrender. He pleaded that his people be spared and refused the charge of treason or breach of any covenant-"
Miythis gestured for Tellyth to move on, clearly bored. Tellyth clenched his teeth, not allowing his feeling to influence his report.
"Our forces met in battle just before midday. Our intelligence was correct; the Mayanar forces were ill-equipped for battle, having sent most of their most capable warriors to join our ranks. In loyalty to us."
"Unlikely; my own sources say they were simply trying to make a coup easier by placing their soldiers closer," Miythis murmured.
Tellyth did not respond to the remark, instead trying to complete his report as quickly as possible. "Afterwards, we encircled the primary Mayanar settlement to complete the censure. Their stores of wraithbone were seized, as were several megadons' worth of food and assorted supplies. Some of the…" Tellyth did not know how best to phrase this, so just stated the matter plainly. "Some of the Polassi troops then began to burn their homes. Without and then against my orders."
He was not looking at Miythis anymore, but simply remembering the stench in the air as the simple tents had burned, Mayanar civilians screaming in fear. He felt no guilt about killing in the field of war, but that was…
"I take full responsibility for their actions, Majesty. They have been stockaded in the meantime, and await your judgment as to their fates."
"Stockaded? Why?" Miythis asked curiously.
Tellyth stared at him in shock. "Because they killed innocents, Majesty. Because they broke military protocol. Because…" Words failed him in the face of Miythis' knowing smile.
"Not at all, Tellyth. They did nothing wrong; they were simply acting on orders higher than yours." Miythis climbed to his feet, walking to the window as he spoke. "You see, Belasys, bless his soul, spoke to me about a certain matter after that unpleasantness with the Sillinstreed."
"I need to speak to you about him, Majesty, as well as-" Tellyth began, already seeing the course of this conversation, but Miythis continued as if he had not heard.
"I appreciate all that you've done for me, Tellyth. Never doubt that. But I worry that you've become hesitant these days," Miythis said, staring out the open portal. "First, trusting that traitorous Seer, then showing mercy to the tribes that have been acting against me. It is unbecoming of the leader of my army."
"Everything I have done, for two hundred years, has been to protect you and safeguard your reign," Tellyth said, unable to hold his peace. "The advisors that crowd around you now-"
"Have given me excellent advice, and many options," Miythis continued for him. "No one is beyond reproach, Tellyth, not even myself, and I have taken to introspection." He half-turned, moonlight framing his face in a shadowy chiaroscuro. "I have realized that my continued indulgence of your… extracurricular activities against other members of my court has been a mistake."
To Tellyth's impassive face, he offered a wry chuckle. "Did you think I was unaware? The others have told me of your plots against them, have complained for years that they were being treated unfairly. It is true that I have relied heavily on you, but a government cannot so totally rest on the shoulders of one aeldar, even if those shoulders are as broad as yours."
Tellyth's hands curled into fists, tight and trembling against his sides, but he did not allow even a twitch to mar his face.
Facing Tellyth fully, Miythis clasped his hands behind his back, finishing his speech. "I'm afraid your time as the head of the royal guard has ended."
