AN: Well here we are, chapter 138. Just a few things in brief... Thanks for your patience while I've been sick. Still sick, wrote a lot of this while in bed and hacking up a lung. But hey, can't keep a driven author down. :) Also, little something for yah, somebody said sarcastically in a review that since I've been away from this one for 'so long' (a very relative term given my update speed) that I should drop ten chapters at once.
So... I'll see your sarcasm and raise you 10 actual chapters dropped on the same day. Also, this 'bomb' will close out the Crossroads arc, I know it hasn't been everybody's favorite, I hear you. But... I have to finish what I start, and even if it wasn't everything I hoped for, well I hope it came out reasonably well. If naught else, I think you'll approve of the ending to it. I put it in the same place on every chapter, so if you do want to skip it, no hard feelings. :) Well, that's all, enjoy!
...Fortress Alaf...
The aftermath of the burning within the fortress sent shockwaves through the Theocracy army's chain of command. Particularly when Leinas ordered the burned up corpses to be loaded into mangonels and launched over the walls. Blackened limbs flopped through the air like ragdolls thrown by an angry child. The shock of the burned corpses landing among them, causing a few injuries along the way, would create a spectre of nightmare that would haunt the survivors for the rest of their lives. The flailing corpses sailing through the air like drunken birds, the sound of bones breaking within lifeless bodies, even in these most disciplined of Theocracy ranks, it was enough to chill their bones. Those who recognized the warped faces of comrades let out howls of rage, pain, and loss when they held corpses in their laps and had to bid farewell to trusted brother or sister.
It took hours to fling the bodies out of the fortress, so many were there that the ropes of the mangonels had to be replaced, giving the Theocracy a brief hope that the rain of limbs and bodies had found an end, only for it to resume again and continue into the night.
In the end the Theocracy command was left with one choice. "We have to pull back." General Felix said as he leaned on the command table with his fists.
"Why? Because your soldiers are so weak and pathetic that a few burned up weaklings make them shit themselves?" The Elf King derided the general with arrogant amusement in his voice. He sat back in his chair, which today happened to be two naked female elves, one on all fours, the other upright as a backrest.
When they'd followed him into the Theocracy tent and assumed that position, it had garnered an array of looks, from disgust to envy, but no matter which, their mouths dropped open until they could compose themselves. First because of the sight, second because of the many bruises that had pock marked their flesh. It was with a sinister laugh that he simply said, "These two weaklings displeased me. This is their penance so that their pathetic lives are spared."
It shut up the Theocracy command... at least at that moment.
"Our soldiers are not weak. There were many among the attackers however, who had comrades here to whom they were closely bonded after having spent years fighting your people. It isn't just the physical injuries, it is the mental ones." General Felix said coldly.
"Sounds like 'weak and pathetic' to me." The Elf King replied with a sneer.
"You-" One of General Felix's aides took a step forward and drew the Elf King's interested eye, only for the General himself to place a hand on his aide's chest and whisper to him.
"Step outside, catch your breath. That is an order." He said through gritted teeth.
The aide relaxed and marched out of the tent.
"So you want to abandon the siege?" The Elf King asked with a laugh clearly coming on fast.
"No, just pull back some so that the bodies don't land so close or among my own. You can adjust your position as you see fit." General Felix replied.
Underneath him, one of the elf females started to shake from the pressure of her king's weight.
He couldn't see her face, but the face of the one serving as his backrest looked at General Felix with a desperate, pitiable terror, and she mouthed 'please' hopelessly. The commanding general of the Slane Theocracy's western expeditionary force was unusual among his peers, chiefly because he was a relatively young man of thirty two. Similarly, he was one of only two generals to never suffer defeat. Lastly, he had a sympathetic streak, a streak that came out when he turned his face away from the fearful 'backrest' and the shaking woman barely holding on to her position on all fours beneath their king.
"Moving would be inconvenient for me, they'll just have to get stronger or die." The Elf King replied coldly.
"Alright then, I'll have a bottle of brandy sent to you as my way of apologizing to our ally for the inconvenience of our own movement. I have nothing else, so unless you wish to stay...?" he said in a leading voice that provoked a look of disgust from the elf King.
"As if that were desirable? No." The Elf King said, then stood up, the poor elf girl under him let out a visible sigh of relief as she stood and took position beside her companion.
"Move." He said to the women, who turned to follow him out, a grateful look was cast General Felix's way from the one that had mouthed her silent plea, but she dared say nothing and he did not do anything to suggest that there was anything to be said.
General Felix ignored them and went back to the map. 'I cannot believe I've had to 'work' with that monster. Praise to the Six that we've got Dominic instead.' He thought with relief.
...Crossroads...
Mananak woke up in chains several hours later in a familiar place. In front of him stood an unfamiliar man with a scar down his right cheek, calm brown eyes, and strawberry blond, his head rested on a body of medium but firm build, clothed in the uniform of the Slane Theocracy. "Hey, you, you're finally awake." He said in an indifferent voice. "This is the fourth time I've checked on you in the last few hours. I was starting to wonder."
"Yeah well, I'm awake now." Mananak said, looking up at him with some annoyance. "Not that it'll do you any good, just because I'm short of height does not mean I'm short of guts." He smirked at his sarcasm, and the man in front of him actually laughed.
"Oh, that's a good one, I'll remember you, kind of makes this a shame." He replied.
Mananak smirked with a twinkle in his eyes, "When you're this short, you develop a big sense of humor about it or a big sense of insecurity, I went the former way."
"Clearly." The man said dryly. "Well, I guess I should get to the point. You're probably expecting to be interrogated."
"Yes." Mananak replied with a slow drawl, as if it were obvious, and rolled his eyes condescendingly.
"Rolling your eyes 'up' won't make you taller." The man said with a return smirk.
"Hey, it's only funny if 'I' do it." Mananak replied a little gruffly.
"Alright, I'll remember that, but on to the point, I'm not here to interrogate you, I'm here to offer you a choice. I can kill you, or you can take your own life, which will it be? And make it quick, I need to get back on patrol before I'm missed." He asked casually, folding his arms in front of his chest and tapping his foot impatiently.
"No escape this time, eh?" Mananak asked regretfully.
"No, since the last escape the guard has been doubled. There is no 'out', not this time, so what will it be?" He asked calmly.
"Whichever one hurts less, I guess." Mananak replied regretfully, his eyes downcast. "Didn't think I'd be the first to go."
"Well, it is what it is. Here, drink this." He said and took out a small vial of orange liquid, popped the cork and put it to Mananak's lips.
Mananak tilted his head back and let the liquid pour down his throat, he swallowed to the last drop and then audibly smacked his lips. "Hey that wasn't half bad, what was it, poison?" He asked.
"No, it was a sleeping potion, once you're unconscious I'll slam the back of your head against the wall until you die, thus giving the appearance of suicide." The man replied in a low, hushed voice. "This way you won't be in any pain."
"Thank you. Can I ask your name, and one small favor?" Mananak said in return.
"Sure thing, the name is Korvak, now make your request, you've got about a minute." His killer responded, opening his arms invitingly. "Lay it on me."
"Tell them I died after cracking one more short joke, and got the last laugh." He said with a rueful smile.
"But... you didn't tell one last joke." Korvak said with a bemused expression.
"I know, the time is even shorter than I am." Mananak said with a wink, then he laughed until his head slumped forward.
"Good one, really is unfortunate." Korvak said after sharing the laugh. He grabbed Mananak's head at the sides and bashed it hard back against the stone wall to which he was chained, it only took three or four, and then it was done. The only noise was the dripping of blood as it ran down and dropped onto the dank stone floor.
Korvak left the chamber then, and returned to work with none the wiser.
Moira waited patiently for Rascal to return, so did the rest of the team, save for one. They fidgeted impatiently, attempts at conversation fizzled out like a failed campfire in a rainstorm. Something was off, they could all feel it, attempts at jokes were met with forced laughter, even the unflappable Owl held a grim expression on his face.
The tension held until Rascal entered the room. "Everybody ready?" He asked as he pushed the door open. His face was gravely serious, a far cry from his common carefree expression and gentle, playful face. No 'hello', no questions about their wellbeing... he was a man carved of stone with squared shoulders and cold, deadly eyes that seemed far apart from who he was before.
Moira swallowed hard, "We are. Anything we need to know before we go?" She asked in a somewhat shaky voice.
"Yeah. You're going to the warrens. The Slane Theocracy likes to pretend there is no criminal element in their country, but there is. I know there is, because I helped get some of it established. You would normally encounter people who would be inclined to try to start a fight, do not take anyone up on that. By now word should be spread that you're with me. That should eliminate most problems, but if you 'act out' do not expect me to step in. Another thing, the people you're going to meet are some of the most dangerous ones you could have the chance to encounter. Don't piss them off. I'm calling in debts for this, don't screw it up. You follow my lead, you do what I say, when I say, and we walk out fine."
This drew expressions of distrust to pass from one to the other, but Rascal simply stood there with his feet apart in the doorway, barring exit until they agreed. Moira gave in first, "Alright, we'll abide by what you've said. But we're still waiting on Mananak."
"No time for that." He said, "This time is set aside for us, he'll have to be briefed later. Now are you coming or what?" He demanded bluntly.
Moira closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and then she stood up, the rest followed suit as Rascal led the way. Rascal was not his jovial self for the entire walk there, but per his instructions the group stuck close to him. It was bizarre to see the way the city changed as they drew closer to the warrens, residences shrank almost inch by inch until they were little more than wooden boxes nailed together and rotting side by side and stacked atop one another.
People grew progressively dirtier, it was like sliding down a grassy hill that gradually became mud until one landed into a pile of pig excrement. The streets were wet to the point of near flooding in some places due to improper drainage, the waste of the wealthier washed down to the warrens and there it sat, largely untended. "How often is that cleaned out?" Moira asked as she closed her fingers over her nose.
Rascal laughed, "Once every... time the smell gets far enough for people outside the warrens to notice it. So, in a word, rarely. Stay here long enough and you stop noticing it."
"Don't think I want to do that." Owl said with revulsion.
"Who would?" Petyr asked with a shudder, "Sulfur stinks less."
"Yeah, well I'm not telling you to live here. Just don't mention it to the folks who are stuck in this place, they're a little sensitive about being looked down on. Got me?" Rascal asked rhetorically.
Taking the hint, Moira sheepishly removed her fingers from her nose with a mild blush. "Sorry." She said tentatively.
Rascal grunted and shrugged. Up and down the street, various shabbily dressed and frequently armed people sized them up, but nobody approached. He looked over his left shoulder and said gently, "If you weren't with me right now, you'd already have had a fight on your hands, keep that in mind."
The group of five behind him tensed up briefly, only to find their thoughts interrupted when Rascal pointed to a building with a horseshoe hanging outside of it. "This way." He said, and led them to a door that was half rotted away. He reached for the handle, a rusted hunk of metal that was obviously once a meat hook. He twisted, the door creaked open, leading into a large dark room.
Light from the outside allowed them to see that this floor was empty, but a set of stairs not far in front of them leading to a second floor was bathed in shadows.
"Up the stairs." Rascal said in a low voice as Romare shut the door behind them. The stairs creaked and Rascal took them slowly until he reached an upper floor. He rapped his knuckles on the door in a brief pattern that imitated a hymn to the gods, and a moment later it opened.
This room was anything but dark, light stones along the wall cast a faint blue into every corner, as if to bathe those present in the light of sadness. Along the wall there were various chairs where men and women sat with crossed arms and stern expressions. A few tables were scattered about, but what stood out most was the pair at the back center of the room, and the seven chairs seated in front of them.
Tension leaped in their throats, the pair exuded danger without even moving. "Kirak, Shanda, good to see you." Rascal said as he inclined his head politely and walked up to the chairs arrayed in front of them. As he and his party sat he looked to either side of the room.
"Isn't this a bit much for just us?" Rascal asked.
"Under the circumstances, no." Kirak replied with a deep frown on his face.
"What circumstances?" Rascal asked in surprise.
"That empty chair there." Shanda said, pointing straight to the empty seat. "Know where that one is?" She asked in a voice that said she was not really asking.
"Mananak didn't come back in time, so..." Nagi began to reply, only to be cut off sharply.
"He's dead." Kirak said in a hard voice. "One of mine sent word about him, we put him down to keep any leaks from springing, we got to him before he could be interrogated, but now we have a problem."
Stunned silence fell over the six. Finally Owl asked, "How was he caught?"
"In the simplest terms, he didn't fit in. He was sloppy, now he's dead. Made it look like a suicide though." Shanda answered, distressed expressions formed on the faces of the six, Moira bit her lip to keep any sound from escaping her lips.
Shanda's expression did not show sympathy, her unblinking eyes raked over them all, "We're taking a big risk on you lot, and not one day after we get started, one of you gets caught and we have to clean up the mess. A pardon doesn't mean a damn thing if we're dead before the siege ends." She said as she clenched her hands into tight fists and clenched her teeth.
Rascal shot to his feet. "Stow it, Shanda." He growled at her, a few at the side walls looked to stand and a wave of killing intent shot off him that made them freeze in place. "Do not. Even. Think about it." He seethed savagely.
Kirak and Shanda unleashed killing intent of their own, both of which rivalled what Rascal had unleashed. "He was our comrade, damn it!" Rascal said harshly.
That reached them. The killing intent of both Shanda and Kirak began to taper off until it was nothing, Rascal's went with it.
"I'm sorry for your loss." Kirak said placatingly in a sympathetic tone.
"Thanks." Moira said quietly.
"Oh, he did leave a message, he said he got one more short joke in, and got the last laugh." Shanda added, and when she explained the 'last joke' it got a round of laughter from the room, the remaining tension faded away.
"Listen, I know you're concerned, but let me be clear about something." Rascal said with his arms folded defiantly in front of himself as he sat back down. "We all faced a suicidal end once already, we're prepared to die, I'm sure Mananak did not surrender, and I'm sure he died bravely. You can expect that out of all of us if it comes down to it. If you wanted a risk-free existence, then you shouldn't have come to me years ago to get all 'this' going."
Shanda twirled a finger through her hair as she thought that over, "I acknowledge that. But 'we' are not suicidal. We want to get out of this in one piece, you want to die for your cause, fine. I won't stop you, but you don't get to drag us into the fire with you. Pardons mean less to the dead than a flacid dick to a whore. Sure it's there, but there's no use to it."
"Nonetheless, we made a deal, the debt stands and unless you want to make a fight over it, I expect you to uphold your end. We won't implicate any of you, and you can kill any of us who get caught, you want more than that, find us a way out of this city and we'll go. If you don't have that, then we have work to do." Rascal replied sharply.
"Damn it, Rascos! You know I don't want it to come to that..." Kirak retorted as he rubbed his hand over his forehead. "Alright, alright. We've got weapons and armor for you all, and... I guess a spare set as well. We've also arranged for some simple day jobs to pay for your stay at the inn and some food, you'll blend in well enough as long as nobody does anything stupid to give themselves away. So, what did the rest of you want? This is a bit unusual after all."
Moira spoke up, her lip quivered faintly, but she kept her voice clear in spite of the emotions running through her. "Frankly it was just to get a read on you. You asked for a lot in exchange for unspecified, undelivered help. I suppose you've managed to give us some of it already..." She said as a crate was brought out, which Romare and Nagi got up to assist in opening. They pulled out suits of chainmail and some military grade weaponry. They grinned like children being given grand presents.
Moira continued, "But everything about this has been strange in the extreme. Rascal... Rascos, has been very tight-lipped about it. But if we're going to work together, at least some trust should come with a trade in goods, pardons, and so on."
Shanda and Kirak traded serious looks, and then nodded quietly to one another. "Clear the room." Kirak said, and the people arrayed along the walls and at various small tables got up and began to file out. When the room had only the eight of them remaining, Shanda spoke up.
"So you want to know more... well to make this easier, tell me this first... what do you know about the Scriptures of the Slane Theocracy?" She asked with an intense look on her face raking over all of them.