The Ambition of the Dreadlord Raveres
Part V: The Hanil Khar
Episode Thirty-Three
My daughter
I cannot not tell you how delighted I was to read of your exploits, and while I wish nothing more than to enjoy the maternal pride which I am due by your successes, I am displeased by your brashness and your disrespect. Your refusal to return home comes as a disloyal and private mockery of your family.
Yet, I do not need be a seeress to know why.
You are my daughter, my blood, I know your desires as well as my own, and perhaps better than you think. So, having spurned our guidance it is clear that you desire to present yourself and take your oath on your own. Commendable.
It pains me that I have gone so long without seeing you, but you have cast your lot, and now we shall see what Morai-Heg has in store. I should expect you to be one of two things when we arrive in Karond Kar. You will have grown your thorns and become a proper Dreadlord, or you will have become a corpse.
Whichever outcome, you shall climb the steps and enter the Drachau's manse with the same things at the fore of thy mind.
You are Raveres Morthai Naguii, my seventh born. It is no secret that you shall not inherit. Nothing will come to you unless it is made or taken by your hand or design, and I have never told you anything different.
I watched with pride when you set off that day, and so long as I have breath in my body or strength in my hand, I shall remind you where you are to bear these truths: in your heart, as all Druchii women are supposed to!
Every slight, every setback, and every victory, you will remember. Rage, vengeance, pride, and spite. These are our magics, as I have told you.
When you stand before the Drachau and the eyes of all are upon you, you will laugh to know, from that point nothing is beyond your reach; should you succeed, there is no height you cannot climb, and no depth, that you cannot fall.
The truth of the Black Court is clearer than any lie-filled and fanciful Asur one; there is only life, or death.
Under the eyes of the Cytharai I remain,
Your Mother
…
Almost everything about the great tower of Karond Kar was larger than necessary and built to awe and intimidate. The great doors of the tower were massive constructions of black oak and wrought iron barding, and once past them one was greeted by the stiff arrangement of guards.
Flanking either side of the path ahead a soldier stood at the foot of a column. Each was in full plate, sword at the hilt, and pike in hand. The colours of these men were different depending on which side of the hall you looked. Those on the right bore the sigil and decoration of the Drachau, those on the left were dressed in that of the city of Karond Kar.
Between the lines of guards marking the path inside, was a dark green carpet with red accents. This splash of colour against the dull stone directed the supplicants and nobles along and towards the great hall. As if the noise wasn't enough to attract one ahead.
The lesser nobles and their households milled around in a festive mood, loudly chattering, laughing, and applauding the occasional disagreement and bloody fight. All the while servants moved about these guests with trays laden with goblets of wine or plates food.
Glittering and illuminating the room were shafts of clear and coloured daylight, filtering in through narrow, but numerous, stained glass, and crystal windows. Above the crowd also hung intricate chandeliers made of bones, their countless candles having been lit in anticipation of the early sundown to come.
Taking a breath and treading ahead Raveres reminded herself she was right where she belonged. Following her uncle's advice Raveres had brought a token guard of five men. And they helpfully pushed aside those in her way. Before she arrived to the Drachau's spire, Lord Vayle had helpfully explained to Raveres that no Dreadlord or noble pledging their first Hanil Khar was in any position to bring an army of followers; that was a swift way to earn yourself an agonising lesson in humility.
Additionally, unless she wanted to see her useful Yurin butchered for sport, her Druchii mercenaries would be her only option for companions. Though his ears and keen tongue were of great utility, if anyone did try upon Raveres' life Yuri was not exactly a swordsman she might rely on. Following her tightly, Salis Raineth, and a selection of his best swordsmen filled the role of her guard.
In order to best fit in with the other nobles Raveres even went so far as to purchase new suits of plate for the men and to dress them with capes bearing her family's colours. Even if they were only as loyal as far as they were paid, they were going to look the part of knightly retainers.
And while she had little desire at the moment to mill about and chat, to observe the intrigue and vile minds of those in front of her, she would have to appear as if she did. So, her eyes moved around, eyebrow cocked and face pursed in muted interest at those in attendance.
Ahead of her one of the tower's servants, an elegantly dressed Druchii woman, paused to offer a tray of hors d'oeuvre. She practically melted out of the crowd and Raveres would have run into her if the servant hadn't of spoken up, asking,
"Refreshment, my lady?"
The plate on the silver tray had small pastries the size of coins, each one topped with a brightly coloured slice of fish, a dollop of cream, and aromatic caviar.
As Raveres looked down at the tray the servant narrated,
"The phyllo is made using Lustrian sugar, topped with hand-warmed salmon. The cream is taken from the Drachau's stock of L'Anguille cattle, and the caviar comes preserved from the treacherous Sea of Claws."
Raveres clenched her jaw, fighting the urge to salivate. Before she could reply the servant interjected,
"If that's not to your liking there are several other options which I might offer. Or perhaps you would prefer some wine, my lady?"
The servant's large doe-like eyes were surely an act, as was her overly warm and inviting tone.
Reminding herself that she wasn't there to socialise, yet, Raveres shook her head and declined, "Later. Instead, you might tell me where the ceremony of the Hanil Khar is being held."
The servant retracted the tray and nodded her head in a bow, "Of course my lady."
Turning and pointing past the crowd the servant answered, "Through the hydra's arch and up the stairs will lead you to the Drachau's throne."
Looking where the woman indicated Raveres saw several guardsmen minding a tall arched passage. Turning to the side of the entrance was the base of a curved staircase.
Where her destiny laid in wait.
Raveres focused her eyes and stepped past the servant. Then the Druchii woman bowed her head and curtseyed, her voice coming out lowly, "May the gods show you favour."
Following their mistress, several of Raveres men quickly stole one of the phyllo topped with caviar. Wolfing the small treats down with greedy chuckles the mercenaries boldly enjoyed themselves until Salis silenced them with a glare. Raveres barely registered their noise, she merely stared ahead at the guards and the archway.
Once she was close enough to court their attention a guardsman held out his hand,
"None so armed might enter the court, or petition the Drachau."
Raveres nodded and cleared her throat, "Of course, guard of the tower. I mean no impudence. I am Raveres Naguii, here to complete my Hakseer, and to take the Hanil Khar."
The guardsman waited a moment before nodding.
"Choose two men to accompany you. The rest must remain here."
Raveres narrowed her eyes but acquiesced, her voice coming out inconvenienced as she stepped ahead and called, "Salis, Haeloc."
Nodding the two mercenaries followed her past the soldiers while Salis ordered the remaining men to the side of the hall.
…
The steps which led from the great hall to the Drachau's throne and audience chambre were wide and grand, with enough space that Raveres and her two bodyguards could stand abreast without issue. Glad to be flanked by the clinking and heavy movement of armoured men Raveres climbed higher.
Despite her efforts and her performance so far Raveres couldn't ignore how her chest overflowed with anxiousness.
The occasional scream from the audience chambre above and the applause of the court did nothing to allay her virgin terror. And her memories of the blue palace and Sapphire court of Sadalsuud paled in comparison to the age, splendour, and overflowing ostentatiousness of the Drachau's tower.
The higher she climbed the nicer and more ornate the furnishings became. Statues in the recesses of the walls were of exquisite quality and were decorated in glimmering detail work of gold and silver. The torches were made of elaborately fused and carved bones and ivory, and illuminated the countless skulls which hung overhead, suspended by gilded chains.
Salis shook his head in a shudder, and Haeloc finally interrupted the ambience as he narrated,
"That's a hydra's head, a trolls', manticore… Pah, that's even the calcified maw of a kharibdyss!"
Raveres cocked an eyebrow as she looked up at the looming white teeth and macabre smiles of the dead beasts. Salis' voice echoed reservedly as he thought aloud,
"Apparently Rakarth was a beast master before he became Drachau. Perhaps these are his former pets?"
Haeloc shivered and grumbled in response, while Raveres forced herself to smirk.
Earlier in the great hall she'd thought her brief brush with a human court would have prepared her, but now seeing the gallery of skulls above them reminded her that some city in Araby would be, and was, nothing in comparison to Karond Kar.
Nearing the top of the stairs Raveres spotted a few trios of fellow Druchii waiting their admission to the court. Above them came the occasional proclamation and reactions of a crowd, their applause and voices echoing off the stone audience chambre.
Standing on the stairs and waiting Raveres noticed a strange pulsing sound which ebbed and flowed, as if the tower had a wind through it, or the building itself was alive. It was off-putting, yet at the same time vaguely familiar. It was almost like hissing. Unable to place or even confirm whether the noise was real, Raveres shook her head.
Then came a bloodcurdling scream, one which was cut short by gruesome snapping and ripping. The air instantly chilled and Raveres couldn't help but feel fear crawl up the length of her spine. The men ahead of her were all similarly affected, and they continued forwards more slowly.
Following them, Raveres was now able to mount the last steps out of the gallery of skulls and into the dread majesty of the court of Karond Kar…
Despite her efforts to resist Raveres couldn't help but catch her breath quietly at the imposing sight before her. In the middle of the spacious chambre on a raised dais, before his throne, stood Lord Rakarth, Drachau of Karond Kar.
The former beast lord was a tall Druchii. And his helm and armour did nothing but add to the indescribable repulsion and fear-inducing aura he exuded. The black steel of his helm rose to a point, the front of which was covered by a crest of red metal wrought in the shape of a flame. An amethyst jewel was set at the centre of the helm, with the detail work of a golden demon laughing over his brow. Four decorative horns rose out from the sides of his helmet, curving upwards.
But the face of the helm was what transfixed Raveres the most. Embossed gilt rose up from the body of the helmet enclosing around a visor slit shaped like eyes, and a mournful mouth like that of a play masque. But she could discern no eyes or face within.
Lord Rakarth's features were obscured by an unnatural darkness and shadow, an obvious enchantment of the ornamental armour and Raveres couldn't help but approve the ingenuity of it.
'No one can ever be certain of where the Drachau's actually looking, and so his eyes are everywhere.' She sniggered noiselessly, 'Must be a powerful bewitchment…'
Following the men ahead of her, Raveres stopped at a few sword lengths from the backs of the nearest Druchii in line. Looking past those in front of her she noticed that the spiked, resplendent armour of the Drachau was splattered with blood and viscera, and it was then that Raveres realised what was sitting, coiled, behind the beast-lord. The cause of the breathing she'd heard earlier.
Hissing and moving with serpentine fluidity and grace a black-scaled, five headed, hydra was lying on its side behind the dais and throne. Its heads bore great collars and heavy chains which bound them together and restricted their reach.
Each head's maw was drenched in gore, and as blood dripped down from the sword-like teeth, Raveres felt the air in her chest exit in an involuntary, but thankfully inaudible, shudder. Vivid and unwelcome memories of her run-in with Annio's juvenile kraken made Raveres feel an overwhelming desire to run or fight. It took all her willpower to suppress it and continue to appear normal and calm.
The golden slit-pupil eyes of each head of the gargantuan beast watched on like an obedient guard dog, viewing all in attendance unblinkingly and waiting for any order Lord Rakarth might give. Now Raveres understood why those ahead of her were shivering, and what had caused the scream earlier.
Before the Drachau was a bloody spot where the previous supplicant had obviously displeased him. Whispers occasionally echoed in the chambre amongst the countless nobles, but finally, Rakarth spoke above the quiet, his voice booming into the air, each syllable drawn out like that of an actor as he asked,
"I wonder, was he brave? Or merely that stupid."
At once the court laughed and applauded his words and the visceral death of whoever it was which had previously stood before him. Exhaling Raveres quickly looked around to view those in assembly.
Each noble was surrounded by a small circle of their bodyguards, family members, and slaves. It was quite apparent that the larger your circle, the more gravitas and authority you had. Looking in front of her she realised that those completing their Hanil Khar for the first time were restricted to two bodyguards.
Grumbling noiselessly and swallowing her fear Raveres looked back at the crowd, eyeing the variety of those present.
There were generals and warband leaders in imposing armour, decorated with medallions and battle honours. There were raid-lords in multi-coloured armour, adorned with translucent silks from the far east.
Some in attendance were so rich that even their retainers mirrored their exotic dresses and alien weaponry.
Those noblemen and noblewomen whose professions were less obvious wore fine kheitan instead of plate, and had exquisite dress which loudly clarified they belonged there. Some of these nobles hid their faces behind full or half caedlin of gold or silver, the metalwork bent into laughing or mournful faces of demons, harpies, or nameless beasts.
And then there were the slaves…
Following their masters and mistresses or brought as offerings to the Drachau, all the slaves present were of the finest quality; their features exemplary of their respective forms, and each of them being beautiful, elegant, or handsome. Their dress and ornamentation reflecting the wealth and prestige of their respective masters.
Biting her tongue, Raveres saw several Asur, their peachy skin and flush features an enviable contrast to the alabaster paleness of the Druchii. Some stood behind their owners while others clung to their master's legs or side. Their colourful hair broke up the typical ebony of the Druchii with blonde, auburn, and chestnut, offering a delightful choice of view to the eye.
Relaxing her brow Raveres swallowed a dry breath self-consciously. Then tightening her fists and stiffening in her armour, she fought against her childish jealousy.
'There will be more sweetmeat. I will make replacement. And I will not make the same mistakes.'
Mentally re-watching Arathar fall into the black waves made Raveres ignore the scrutinising eyes of the court for a moment. Instead, a flash of rage overtook her nervousness, and her body began to run with it. Biting her tongue and shutting her eyes Raveres steadied herself and held her breath. Forcing herself to calm she remained stiff until her heart slowed a little.
Nodding and exhaling steadily through her nose her thoughts turned,
'Enough of this. There're more important things to consider than effete bedwarmers and servants! It'd probably be prudent to take note of the faces present. This is the only time of the year you'll see the most important nobles of Karond Kar in one place.'
Steadying her breathing, Raveres darted her eyes around and felt her gut turn over at the subservient place she was in. Even though she was about to be elevated, she'd have to prostrate herself in front of everyone present.
But it was necessary… It was one more step on the road to glory.
Here it was that she'd make and meet potential allies, benefactors, business partners, investors. But equally present were future rivals, enemies… Those who she'd be able to wage vendettas on and see ruined.
The thought helped to relieve some of the tension in her body, and as she scanned the crowd, she occasionally imagined the sight of one or two in chains, bloodied and broken at her feet.
Letting out a contented breath after she'd relaxed somewhat Raveres nodded and then viewed those present more seriously. Trying her best to take in the features of various noblemen and women, but eventually she realised there were far too many to commit to memory!
Those who visually seemed important and influential practically overflowed in the room, until frustratingly Raveres tried to spot her uncle.
'Gods, where is that fool? He's my only ally in this damned city and he's cost far too high a price to just remain hidden!'
She fought the urge to grumble.
'Not like I thought much of him beforehand, but maybe he'll make certain introductions at least.'
Scanning from side to side of the chambre Raveres eventually spotted her aunt's husband.
Lord Vayle had said he'd be present in the court, and while Raveres hoped that he'd be a more active 'sponsor' he had admitted yesterday that he intended to be her benefactor in name only.
She had to stop herself from strangling him while she brought her tribute to the tower that day, and now seeing him again Raveres wondered; what else was she to have expected?
If she were in the same position as him, would she not try to wring out as much coin as she could from her nephews or nieces?
The thought that someday that role and opportunity would be hers made her relax further and breathe just a little easier. Despite the fact she was looking at the somewhat repulsive features of her uncle.
Standing in an elegant suit of green plate with a silken cape over his shoulder, Lord Vayle was chatting to a statuesque man in the dress and armour of a corsair admiral.
The admiral was almost as tall as the Drachau, and had a dread presence dangerously on par with Lord Rakarth. Many of his retinue were corsairs, in their tell-tale splint and scale armour with cloaks of sea dragon skin. But unlike his men, the man Lord Vayle was speaking with wore a helm of muted gold, the features of which were carved into the likeness of a kraken.
Beside Raveres Salis scoffed in surprise under his breath, "I never thought I'd see the day…"
The words prompted a quick glance as Raveres came out of her thoughts to whisper sharply, "What do you mean?"
Salis indicated with a delicate and careful movement of his head towards her uncle and the man he was peaking to.
"That man over there, the one in the masque."
Raveres furrowed her brow and responded impatiently, "Yes, what about him?"
Salis cocked an eyebrow incredulously at his employer but replied anyway, his voice quiet.
"That's Lokhir Fellheart."
At this Raveres was unable to hide her surprise.
No Druchii from the Broken Lands, or the eastern reaches of Naggaroth for that matter, didn't know that name. The Fellhearts were a family dynasty which any raider aspired to emulate, their successes, exploits, wealth, and enduring fame was an object of great envy and mystique.
Raveres felt herself scoff and smile slightly in disbelief. Her animosity towards her uncle lifting for a moment. Not only was she laying her eyes on the imposing figure which was heir to the Fellheart lineage, but her uncle was actually speaking to him!
Right there, on the other side of the Drachau's court, Lord Vayle was two swords' length from Lokhir, the kraken lord himself. Tracing the curvature of Lokhir's helmet Raveres smirked girlishly as she thought,
'I wonder if he'd be impressed that I killed a kraken myself? Or would he be disappointed I took such a pleasure from him?'
She wanted to snigger and chuckle but instead she shook her head embarrassedly, cringing at herself and stiffening again. Pursing her lips and hardening her features, Raveres watched on reservedly until Lord Vayle saw her.
Once meeting her eye, Lord Vayle bowed to Lokhir and politely parted his company.
The helmeted admiral raised his right hand in the slightest of acknowledgements before Lord Vayle stepped away from the kraken lord's circle and began moving through the other nobles, his personal bodyguards in tow.
Blinking and taking another breath Raveres looked ahead at the few other aspiring Dreadlords waiting their turn to be invited forwards. Taking a quick glance over her shoulder she saw that the line was reforming up the stairs as groups of masters and returning young nobles now queued behind her.
The Dreadlord in front of their informal line was approached by a court herald and after some words the herald turned and addressed the Drachau and court,
"Thàlin of house Darkhope."
Then the young man swallowed his fear and stepped towards the dais of their liege lord, loudly replying the traditional refrain and greeting,
"I am here, Terrible One! Your servant awaits thy bidding."
His voice hadn't faltered, and instead bounded confidently into the quiet room. The Drachau nodded and replied,
"Come before me and present me thine gifts."
Stepping closer the young Druchii swore his fealty, loudly boasting of his haul of flesh and plunder on a successful Hakseer. Then he spoke of his sponsor and the Drachau nodded before opening the palm of his right gauntlet.
"We have heard of your deeds, and accept your tribute and your fealty. By the sovereignty of my rule, and in the name of our king Malekith I do hereby recognise you as a Dreadlord among Druchii. You brought pain and misery to the foul usurpers in Ulthuan, and have made our coffers and the debt of blood fuller. As such, your suffering is to be no less than what all our kin must bear."
The young man knelt and leant his face forwards into the Drachau's grip. Making no noise as foul magic and torturous energy wracked his body and filled him with burning pain.
After a short while the Drachau withdrew his hand from the noble's head. The aspiring Dreadlord's skin seemed as if drained of all blood. His eyes were glassy and ringed by an exhausted darkness as he bowed his head and his retainers came forwards to help him back to his feet. Blinking and breathing heavily the noble was helped away from the dais as he finally sputtered.
The crowd murmured and Raveres discerned that they mostly approved of the young Thàlin's performance. Watching him approach a circle of allies Raveres surged with envy as he was congratulated by his fellows and he slowly began standing on his own.
Then the next noble was announced and he proceeded towards the Drachau. The words and process were the same, but rather than endure the magic and the agony of the dark touch of Rakarth's armour, the young noble threw off his kheitan and used a small ritualistic dagger to cut at his exposed chest and arms. To the loud delight and approval of the crowd.
Though she felt his information was lacking, Lord Vayle had explained to Raveres beforehand that not everyone received a magic test of loyalty. Petty nobles and lesser families merely had to perform a light mortification.
Yet to those bold -or stupid- enough, remained the more dangerous show of quality. The test of magic was rendered to the higher nobles of the court, and to those who asked for it.
Once Raveres had heard this she knew what she had to do. How better to show off her mettle than to demand such a test? Though the extortionate tribute she had paid to her uncle was lamentable, it had bought her something more than his support.
It'd bought her that test.
Raveres would not be content to cut herself like the rest, no. She was determined to endure what young Thàlin had before her, and she was going to show the court who she was.
Despite the fact that it somewhat terrified her…
Swallowing Raveres stepped ahead automatically, ready and waiting for the herald to approach her for she was next. Inside her chest her heart was hammering, and the limbs of her body wanted to shake. Worst of all her nerves had decided on the worst means to torment her.
Within her armour and fine clothes, with her hair braided and oiled in an exquisite ornate ponytail… with her warpaint carefully painted on her features…
Standing this close to the Drachau…
If she could Raveres would have screamed at herself, and in her throat, as she suppressed a primal growl. Shutting her eyes and pursing her lips Raveres drew a slow breath as her mind raced,
'Not during the ride to the tower, not before I left the house, no, now I have to fucking piss!'
From her legs, up her chest, and into her throat, she felt an uncomfortable anxiousness. Like the first time she fought in a battle. But there was nothing she could do.
As if the fear of failure, and everything else; her life and her passion, had arrived to this moment, and all she was thinking of was the sudden, humiliating, and uncomfortable sensation in her abdomen.
Doing everything she could to hold back a petulant snarl Raveres focused on control, her head deafening the murmurs of the crowd, the feeling of the eyes all now on her. Of the world around her… Instead, she ordered herself she was fine, she would be fine, and all she had to do was speak the words thousands had recited before her.
Then it would be done, it would be sealed.
Ahead of her she saw the herald move, the retainers approaching the dais to assist their bloodied lord and her eyes widened.
'This, this is it.'
Her chest tightened and began curling, coiling onto itself in fear and apprehension.
'Don't fuck it up, just say as you practised, I am here, terrible one… I await, no! Your servant awaits thy bidding… fuck, fuck!Gah, come on!'
Before the herald reached her, Lord Vayle stepped out from the crowd and intercepted him. Widening her eyes Raveres felt her heart stop. She wanted to scream, and she physically bit her tongue to keep from doing so,
'What in Khaine's bloody name is he doing?!'
As she watched on, the herald shared quick words with her uncle before nodding and continuing his approach towards Raveres.
Despite the fact she wanted to scream, she had to act as if she knew, nothing could appear unplanned. So, swallowing her insult, Raveres looked ahead, waiting for the herald calmly. Yet inside her heart was deafening, her head rang, and the anticipation made her want to vomit as well. Mentally focusing on the weight of her amulet between her breasts and pressed into her skin she prayed,
'Gods… Gods! Khaine, see me through this goddamn you Cytharai cunt!'
Then the herald's voice clanged into her mind and stole all her attention. As if dispelled, her feeling of unease and the desire to piss became replaced with a cold chill in the rush of adrenaline which was brought on by the herald's voice addressing her.
"What is your name?"
Swallowing and nodding Raveres looked at the herald, 'Now or never.'
This close to him she saw how vaguely serpentine, the man was. And though the Druchii was wearing fine court dress, his face was painted with black runes and his long hair was swept loosely over his shoulders. His voice was particularly unsettling, surely done on purpose, but she gave no indication of it as she ignored it and spoke as levelly as she could muster,
"I am Raveres Naguii."
He nodded, before asking knowingly, "General Titos is your father?"
Raveres again fought the urge to be surprised, but she had to remind herself the officers and servants of the Drachau's court were probably the most well informed Druchii short of the hag sorceresses, a seer, or a sage.
"Yes, he is."
The herald nodded again, "Lord Vayle says you wish to feel the Drachau's embrace."
The way he spoke indicated it wasn't a question, so Raveres remained still and quiet. After a beat the herald nodded and asked,
"What tribute have you brought before the Drachau?"
Raveres took a breath and straightened her back as she replied proudly and without hesitation,
"The majority of my Hakseer profit; over one hundred and fifty talents worth of gold and silver, from Ulthuan and the seas."
Those of the crowd in earshot immediately began whispering amongst themselves, while the herald showed no reaction, he merely bowed his head courteously. Then with a turn he looked towards the throne and loudly announced,
"Raveres of house Naguii!"
Then with sheer terror chilling her body Raveres walked, ignoring the gaze of her uncle and the countless members of the court. Mustering all her courage she cried into the air,
"Here I am Terrible One!"
Behind the throne the heads of Rakarth's hydra hissed and growled at one another as they rose and bobbed this direction and that, seemingly watching her as she approached. As if in defiance of the creature, Raveres' voice earned an edge of spite as she continued the traditional words,
"Your servant awaits thy bidding."
Then Rakarth looked at her.
Despite his helmet's bewitchment she felt his gaze as surely as the burning sun of Araby. It scrutinised her face and she could feel it burrow under her skin. After a moment of terror, Raveres realised, until the Drachau released her, her life was no longer her own, it was between release and forfeiture.
Blinking and swallowing she waited.
Then Rakarth nodded. Moving his long taloned hand delicately through the air, he beckoned her closer. Then his voice spoke out, directly addressing her. His syllables were smooth, strangely delightful even… Neither quality Raveres had noticed before.
"Come before me, and bare thy gifts."
Now at the foot of the dais Raveres lowered onto the blood smeared stone as Rakarth narrated,
"This moment marks the end of your proving cruise. The end of a journey from our adoptive shores and into the world of the usurpers and the weak-willed lesser races."
His words invited hisses from the crowd.
Raveres looked up, her heart galloping with a practically religious fervour as she stared into the darkness of the Drachau's helmet. An excitement and mysterious air had fallen upon her shoulders and she was quickly feeling herself being swept up in it. A glee was just about to fill her when the Drachau tilted his head to the side, his voice lowering as if for greater drama,
"Yet from what I've been told, yours is a Hakseer, most unusual."
The pleasure and relief evapourated, and complete fear replaced it. Yet to her credit, Raveres remained still and silent, her face expressionless as Rakarth continued,
"Dorath Yhav'ren was your captain, was he not? I hear he was slain. Along with your crew."
At this Raveres swallowed and nodded, her tongue almost failing to work as she forced herself to respond,
"He was my lord. And they were, my lord."
Rakarth nodded, "And yet this did not deter you."
Raveres shook her head, risking a small smile, "It did not, my lord."
Rakarth extended the claw-like end of a finger and forced Raveres to look up and turn her chin towards the ceiling. She did not miss the irony of such an act.
"I hear that you blooded yourself on the shores of Cothique?"
Withdrawing the talon Rakarth watched Raveres answer. She nodded and refrained from smiling this time,
"I did my lord."
"And from there you sailed to Araby, in pursuit of what?"
Raveres' eyes darted down a moment as she recalled her original mission…
It seemed so long ago, and now, after all that had happened, and the distance travelled, all the change, she understood what the phrase 'a life-time ago' felt like. She had set out for trade, for a familial enterprise. But could she even say that now and not feel like a liar? She wanted to spit and slap herself.
'What a shallow pretence for glory!'
She wanted to leave Naggaroth, she wanted to kill, to be free, to become rich. But then after what happened, she wanted nothing more than to collect herself and repay the man who'd nearly taken her life. Everything which she had done was in that interest…
Flashes of those she met filled her mind, and she was reminded of how she had felt, how naïve.
Each who had served her, was but a stepping stone. A tool which was purposed towards her own ends, even if she did not see her design, they had served and worked for her to her ends!
In that pursuit she had slain many, and Raveres relived with delightful clarity the moments when she had cried Sa'an'ishar and saw the thick of battle, slipping into the hands of Khaine and feeling the pleasurable thrill of slaughter.
That was worth more than her girlish, erudite, and pathetic plan she had initially proposed to her father almost a year ago.
With a private nod, Raveres looked up and responded plainly;
"I sought blood and vengeance."
Rakarth was unmoved and the mute features of his helmet told her nothing until he spoke again,
"Tell me of it."
Raveres knew he wanted no long saga, so she allowed her thundering heart and loud mind flow to only what she felt was necessary to say,
"I led cavalry through the dunes and into battle under the eyes of Khaine. I tracked and killed the man who had butchered Dorath. I slaughtered his chaos-foul crew to a man. I felled a chaos-spawned beast of the sea. And I first wet my blade on the blood of our traitorous kin."
The crowd murmured.
"I am happy and unashamed to say that an Asurian fool was the first thing I ever killed with my sword."
Some hissed in envy while others jeered in approval. Their noise giving her encouragement to continue,
"I led those who would have broken without my presence. Slaves and weak cowards, yet I forced them to perform, and I took victory at every turn from those who would deny it me."
Rakarth seemed to shift, his body language showing the tiniest motion of approval, before he continued the ceremony and spoke,
"We have passed another year. The season is at its end. Another debt of blood has been added for the usurpers in Ulthuan!"
His words were approaching the oath and Raveres realised she'd made it this far alive. At this her excitement returned, despite the fact she could still be ripped apart by the Hydra on Rakarth's orders, she felt manic. Swallowing and breathing heavily Raveres' eyes widened with passion as she looked up at Rakarth. Then with a consuming eagerness, her voice replied the practised refrain,
"We are the Druchii, we do not forgive, and we do not forget!"
Rakarth nodded,
"We are the people of ice and darkness. We are those sustained by our hate, we live for the Witch King and we shall set the ancient wrongs to right!"
Raveres' body shivered in her armour with zealous reverence, an almost divine presence growing inside her as all her nervousness and desire fuelled into her words,
"Through fire, blood, and ruin!"
Rakarth stepped closer,
"The Hanil Khar sees the loyal vassal pay tribute to his lord, and give his oath of service. What do you lay at my feet, loyal one?"
Raveres' voice responded with the ferocity of a Death Hag, "I have brought you gold and silver my lord! The flesh I took is already in your market. And I would have gifted you the bodies of the usurpers I slew too, but they are Khaine's alone. So, I offer myself in their stead. My sword, my voice, my service, is yours."
The Drachau began chuckling as he looked down at her,
"No craven are you Naguii! Your words and your gifts fill me with hunger. Despite what ought to have been your failure, like a true Druchii you have returned richer and all the stronger for it."
He leaned closer and his voice lowered, "Though for all your pious words, you are not devoid of sin. Pride hangs about you as readily as the collar of a slave. I see in you an ambition which seeks to engulf your soul."
Raveres blinked, her brow moving in surprise, as Rakarth straightened back and continued,
"Even here and now you show your bravery, for you choose to omit much, and you choose to engage my embrace willingly. But such a choice is nothing! And it means nothing now that I say it, for I gladly accept thy fealty. By my sovereignty of my rule and in the name of Malekith, I shall test the limits of thine courage. As you have desired."
Raveres' chest pressed against her armour as she breathed; practically panting now.
Stiff on her knees, she could only marvel at Rakarth's purposeful intonation and the weight of his words. Her mouth dried as she drew breath after breath through her nose waiting, while the crowd murmured, realising that she intended to bear the worst kind of Hanil Khar.
Rakarth tilted his head again to the side, as if amused,
"Should you survive, then you shall rise as Dreadlord. And we shall consider making use of your… talents."
Watching Rakarth open his palm Raveres nodded, and realised her chin and head were shivering. Suppressing it as best she could, and knowing to expect pure pain, she replied with the last words of the Hanil Khar, doing her best not to chatter her teeth in fear,
"Do thine will, Terrible One."
Rakarth nodded and tightened his grip as Raveres leant her face into his hand and accepted the darkness of his embrace. The last thing she heard before the crowd and the breathing of the hydra were drowned out, was the voice of the Drachau as he chuckled and sadistically moaned,
"Oh, I shall."
…
The pain was at first akin to when Raveres had fallen into the ocean. It shocked her, and made her want to panic for breath, but she forced herself to endure it. Then the feeling changed and transmuted into the scorching of the desert, complete with the sensation of her peeling, burnt, skin falling off under the sun's touch, and the coarse scrapping of the wind and sands.
But as soon as she had become used to that it changed once more, and now her mind filled with the smell of acrid blood; her skin felt like it was being ripped upwards from her fingers.
Her nail-less left hand ached and shook violently, she knew it. But she couldn't stop it. She wanted to scream. She wanted to groan.
Never before had Raveres wanted to make so much noise, and all because she knew this was the only time in her life she wasn't allowed to.
This was it.
Once she was released from the oppressing darkness and the draining, unimaginable pain, it would be done! As she endured yet more agonising seconds of wretchedness, the pain again transformed. It shifted from her limbs and instead began to grow and surge inside her abdomen. Like someone was attempting to disembowel her.
It was so great Raveres finally had to move, she had to do something if only to let her mind know it wasn't real, it was only an illusion. She shuffled on her knees and in response she felt the Drachau grip the sides of her skull tighter, as if ready to burst her head like an overripe grape, or a soft-shelled nut.
Blood began to waft upwards into her nose, and she realised it was no longer just in her mind.
Shuddering and blinking in darkness Raveres finally realised she'd nearly bit through her own tongue. The coppery tang of her own blood began to ooze and spread across her palate and she forced herself to swallow it. Involuntarily she grunted mutedly, the pain so horrid it had to have reached its crescendo by now.
No shame, no fear, and nothing she'd experienced before came close to the sheer concentrated agony which now washed over and drowned her nerves.
Every pang she'd ever felt as a young girl, every broken bone, and the total terror she experienced while in the maw of Annio's mutated kraken. Each paled in comparison to the magic now violently coursing through her skin, her nerves, and her very blood.
It was too much.
Raveres felt as if she was fighting violently in the Drachau's grip, as her sensation of space completely left her and she no longer felt inside her own body.
The pain was no longer a physically familiar sensation, it was indescribable and her mind lost all semblance of language. She wanted to scream and strip off her clothes, shed her armour, snap her sword, even the idea of shedding her own skin seemed a logical thing to do…
An excruciating madness now consumed her.
Desperately Raveres began mentally offering things to the gods if only to have it stop. She'd have seen Yurin, Rhea, Maya, Elianna, and the whole of her immediate family butchered if only to escape the pain.
When that didn't appease the darkness, she began praying and screaming inside herself. Giving up each and every dark secret in her heart, admitting to every thought and transgression, every mental betrayal, every lie, momentarily forgetting why she was being tortured in the first place. She merely confessed to everything she'd done in error.
Her tongue waggled and her eyes rolled back. Her whole body numbing and running away from her as she finally screamed. Then, when she had nothing left to give over, it ended. Relief and release washed over her body unlike anything she could have hoped for. Sweeter than she could articulate or understand.
The Drachau's gauntlet came away from her face and Raveres rapidly opened her eyes to see once again. It took several moments for the colour of the world to return, and everything was muddled over, as if someone had rubbed mucus in her eyes. But Raveres sputtered and took solace that she'd survived.
Blinking the blindness from her eyes and forcing herself to remain upright Raveres slowly tilted her chin to look up at Lord Rakarth.
In approval he nodded and raised his hand, blessing her, as he had to those who had preceded her.
And with that, it was done.
Raveres didn't have to force herself to remain upright. She could collapse with dignity, having endured the test and received the Drachau's assent.
With a quiet groan her legs gave out and she fell backwards onto the bloody floor, her armour clanking and scraping on the stone. Blinking and trying to breathe normally Raveres stared upwards as blood and spit leaked from the corners of her lips and sweat dribbled down her brow.
Slowly, feeling began to return to her fingers and limbs just as Salis and Haeloc rushed forwards to drag her from the dais.
So close to the Drachau the two mercenaries each spoke a quick respect and bowed their heads before grabbing their mistress by the arms and pulling her backwards. With a minute tilt of his head Rakarth acknowledged them before sitting back onto his throne.
Then once she was out of the Drachau's presence, Salis and Haeloc helped Raveres stand up. Her head lolled around lazily as she continued to blink and grunt, trying to focus. Oddly helping her remain awake, Salis' voice broke through the cloudy noise in her mind,
"Can you walk?"
Forcing her unfocused eyes to look at the man, Raveres' tongue felt swollen and she shook her head in response.
Nodding Salis grunted, "Haeloc, take her arm. Put it around you and come on."
Haeloc nodded and hefted Raveres' armoured limb over his shoulder and neck. All the while Raveres growled at her legs, and wondered why they were being so difficult.
Her pride forced herself to try and walk but it would have been impossible without her men's help. Then with a sobering clarity she realised,
'I… I did it? I did it!'
Her body lightened and she began to smile through the pain and fatigue.
Satisfaction began to swell inside her chest and she forced herself to remain upright as she was escorted to the side of the court. The crowd parted and allowed her men to take her towards one of the room's columns, and as soon as she was mostly out of view Raveres felt her eyelids flutter heavily as she looked from side to side.
Helping her against the stone column Salis held her in place by the shoulder.
"Just lean there a moment, my lady. We'll move when you're recovered."
Weakly she nodded. Closing her eyes and supressing a laugh at her success. Then leaning to her right, and closer to Salis, Raveres grunted and spat some of her bloody saliva out of her swollen mouth and onto the floor before she asked with a snigger,
"How did I look?"
With a macabre grin she looked at Salis. Eyeing his scar and then freely running her gaze up his nose and finally to his eyes. Peering into the vibrant colour, Raveres relished her proximity to him. But she wasn't able to enjoy the view for long. Quickly and purposefully Salis moved his gaze around warily, maintaining an uneasy vigil on those nearest them.
Eventually Salis glanced back at her and reluctantly shook his head,
"I can't say that I understand it all. You were in the Drachau's grip for a long time. Most of it you didn't move, then near the end you let out some noise and shook. From what I heard the others say, you did well."
The mercenary blinked and stiffened before looking away and scanning the crowd again. But the speed he had looked away…
Raveres furrowed her brow,
'What was that? Surely not just his duty. Is he really so nervous here?'
Shaking her head her voice lowered, and she asked Salis sarcastically,
"Do you think I've charmed them?"
Salis furrowed his brow and his scar-smirk rose in a strange smile, he appeared as if to say something but then thought better of it. His features cooling,
"I wouldn't presume to know the minds of the highborne."
Raveres narrowed her eyes at him. There was something spiteful and impudent in his tone. But then she realised she was now even further above him in station.
'Is that, jealousy?' Raveres scoffed, 'How petty of him.'
Then her chest tightened at his rebuffing, 'Well then, if that's the case.'
Directing her own spite and offence to act as supports Raveres grunted lowly,
"I can stand on my own. Unhand me, now."
Salis and Haeloc stopped holding her shoulders, and as added performance Raveres pulled her arms from their grip when they didn't comply quickly enough. Feeling her limbs tense she wavered a moment before grunting and moving again.
Salis stepped back and averted his eyes. Waiting before he and Haeloc moved to the proper distance away from their mistress.
Watching them move Raveres thought lowly, 'That's right. Step back where you belong.'
As her strength slowly returned, she looked towards her right. And though the court was now watching another young Dreadlord, there were a few faces which still remained on her. Once meeting her eye some nodded in mute approval, while others quickly turned their away. Clenching her fists, Raveres forced herself to stand away from the column, huffing as she stiffened and began searching for Lord Fellheart.
Unimpressed and now disinterested in the Hanil Khar the kraken lord had turned to his side and was now speaking with a servant. Cringing at herself Raveres couldn't help but feel a splash of disappointment. But then she chided herself,
'As if he'd have been keen to watch anyway…'
Then she looked amongst the crowd more until she saw her uncle Lord Vayle.
'That extortionate bastard.'
Through her pain she chuckled. Moving a little bit, and feeling her eyes on him, Lord Vayle looked over at Raveres with a venomous expression.
"What the… what's with that? It's as if he…"
Raveres stiffened, and fought against making a disgusted sneer. Despite having just completed her Hanil Khar she continued to be rebuffed!
Shaking her head, she scoffed, 'Well then, I better remember that! Wait, who's he standing with now?'
Vayle was no longer alone, and she furrowed her brow at his companions. Beside her uncle were two caedlin wearing nobles. Both of which Raveres couldn't recall seeing in the crowd before.
On Vayle's right stood a man in battle-scarred plate, and a woman in a kheitan and dress the colour of midnight. The man's face was obscured by a half caedlin of gold and the woman by a full caedlin of silver. The half caedlin was a ghoulish skeletal grimace, and the full caedlin had been shaped into a weeping harpy.
As Raveres stared her eyes fluttered and she grunted in pain as she tried to understand why they appeared somewhat familiar to her. Then Salis' voice interrupted her thoughts,
"My lady, would you like to depart?"
Turning to the side she grumbled and nodded, her mouth still feeling swollen as she spoke,
"Yes… Hopefully your boys haven't been gorging themselves on the Drachau's hospitality."
Salis stiffened mutedly, while Haeloc grunted and suppressed a chuckle. Raveres closed her eyes and felt an errant vibration of pain. When she recovered, she blinked and looked back at Lord Vayle and saw that he was now speaking with some raid-lord.
"What?" she mumbled.
The two seemed in very keen conversation and the man and woman wearing caedlin were gone. As if they hadn't even been there. Blinking in surprise Raveres shook her head, her heart skipping a beat as she thought,
'What the hell!? Did I imagine that?'
Her skull still felt as if mired in a fog of fatigue and pain. Eventually dismissing it she turning back towards Salis and Haeloc.
'Gods I need out of here. I need out of here, and I need a bath.'
Pointing at Salis she grumbled, "We're leaving now."
The two mercenaries nodded and parted as Raveres slowly made her way towards the stairs. All her energies were being used to keep herself upright as she steadily made it across the stone and towards the wide steps. Even though the pain was in her mind, it still shivered and reverberated inside her sinew, shocking her every now and then with an unexpected flash or cramp.
But once she was at the top of the stairs, it subsided.
Ahead of her, winding down the curved staircase was now a line of waiting Dreadlords-to-be. Stopping a moment, she looked down at their faces, tense and anxious. Feeling a second wind Raveres smirked and moved her left hand to her hilt as she tightened her right into a fist.
Stiffening in her armour and puffing her chest out she spoke,
"Salis, Haeloc?"
The men looked at her expectantly. Tilting her head back and narrowing her eyes forwards she finally continued,
"Clear the way."
Instantly the two mercenaries went down the steps ahead of her, pushing, grunting, and ordering the bodyguards and the aspiring Dreadlords to the side as Raveres slowly stepped down.
Then she felt the thrill of success.
The want of triumph came in the eyes and the expressions of the young men being pushed aside. And as she passed them, those aspirant Druchii eyed her with envy, admiration, and reverence. Their whispers rang in her head like worshiping voices in the recesses of Khaine's temple, as the court herald loudly declared another name.
Stopping on a step she waited a beat at the herald's voice, for in her head she had reheard,
Raveres of house Naguii!
The cloud in her mind, the tension and pains in her body began to wane, receding with every heartbeat until Raveres' felt clear once more. She was now, Dreadlord among her people. She had been recognised and elevated above the chattel, above the peasants, and the lowborn. Now she'd been right and truly set onto the treacherous path of the Black Court.
Thinking on what challenges, rivals, and demands would come with that title, Raveres exhaled a shallower breath. But it, and her residual anxiety was dispelled. That wasn't a worry for now.
No… For now, victory was finally hers. And she would relish in it as long as its thrill lasted. Arching one of her eyebrows and scrutinising the Druchii along the stairs as she passed Raveres began to glide. Her confidence growing with every step down the curve of the stairs.
With all potential ahead of her, and so many dark designs forming in her heart, Raveres couldn't help but smile.
…