Blood on the Sand
Chapter 13: The Drums of War
The group of women laughed as they danced in the shallow pool of water, letting the water flowing from the various statues of nymphs and mermen wash over them. Scantily clad male and female Arrancars wearing gold collars with an amethyst fleur-de-lys made their way around the pool with trays of delicacies and fluted glasses of sparkling wine as musicians played their instruments.
In the center of the pool was a raised platform with a klinai covered with pillows. The woman reclining on the klinai yawned and held out her glass. The caramel-skinned woman garbed in a thin pale-pink chiton next to her reached for a pitcher filled with golden wine. A crimson harpy was tattooed on her right shoulder blade to mark her as being sold by House Merrin's slavers.
"More," the lounging woman said in an indifferent tone.
"Yes, my lady," the slave said as she poured more of a golden wine into the glass.
"Thank you, Esclave," the woman said as she brought the glass to her ripe lips. She sighed and watched her guests continue their play. "Have you received word on my brother? I haven't heard from him since he took control of Sedem Sanctam."
"His majesty is busy preparing for battle against the false kings, my lady," Esclave said.
"Oh," Margaret Andjo said and brushed some of her black hair from her face. "I suppose I must make do with these hens in the meantime."
"As you say, my lady," Esclave said, bowing her head.
Margaret looked at her personal servant. Her lilac eyes had the glazed look of boredom and mindless vanity, but beneath the surface there was a gleam that hinted at a cunning mind.
"I'm so jealous," Margaret said.
"W-what are you jealous of, my lady?" Esclave asked, somewhat nervous.
"Your skin," Margaret said and took another sip of wine. "It's such a lovely shade: neither too dark nor too light."
"There are ointments that I can bring you to help you achieve the same shade if that's your wish, my lady," Esclave said, somewhat relieved that it only had to do with her lady's vanity.
Margaret held out an arm in front of her face. She looked at the pale lily-white skin, made smooth by the various creams she used. She glanced at Esclave's own skin and smiled.
"Do you think that shade would look good on me?"
"Any shade would look good on you, my lady. You are said to be the most beautiful woman in Hueco Mundo and you have many lords seeking your hand in marriage."
Margaret's smile widened. It was amusing to watch her personal servant finding ways to flatter her mistress, afraid that anything she said might anger the Night Rose. She took a sip of the wine and found that its sweet taste was ruined somewhat at the thought of the lords who sought her hand. She despised her suitors because none of them were good enough. They all saw her as one thing: a commodity to be used to advance their social rank as well as for their enjoyment. Yet none would advance her status, only lower it.
"Esclave, I want to know something."
"What is it, my lady?"
"Are you happy about where you are?"
"I…I don't understand."
"Are you happy that I bought you?
"I…suppose I am, my lady. I mean, I heard about what some of the lords do with their property, but… you haven't ordered me to do anything that I would feel uncomfortable doing. Why do you ask, my lady?"
"Never mind," Margaret said as she took another sip of wine. "I was just curious."
Margaret's attention turned to the purple curtains decorated with golden fleur-de-lys and white birds. She handed her wine glass to Esclave and stood as the house herald stepped into the room. The other women paid no attention to the man clad in purple and gold. He removed his cap, the white plumes fluttered slightly as he bowed.
"My lady," the herald said. "I am to inform you that Lord Parros has arrived for tonight's banquet."
Another hopeless suitor for me to break, Margaret thought.
"I see. So Patros's other brother has finally come to see me." Margaret turned to Esclave. "I told that idiot Patros Parros that if he ever wanted to have a chance at my hand then he was to bring me that Soul Reaper's little bauble. He died in the attempt."
"I'm sorry for the loss my lady."
"I'm not. He was a worthless braggart, more wind than substance."
"Still I'm sure that his brother mourned his loss."
"Esclave, the thing you need to know about nobles is that they rarely ever mourn the loss an older brother. It gives them more to inherit."
She stood from the klinai, smoothing her pale blue and silver gown.
"It's a shame that I must greet him in person. Esclave, serve my friends until I send for you, and make sure that their wine never empties."
"As you wish, my lady," Esclave said, bowing as her mistress left to greet yet another suitor.
Nido de Viboras
Vallae listened to the mercenaries down in the city below. She could see them around their cook fires, feasting and drinking with Rureaux's regular soldiers. Travelling mummers and minstrels created a cacophony with their songs and plays.
They sound as though they're having fun, she thought. Why not? Many of them could die soon.
She looked to the door and wondered if her guard was still at his post. She looked to the outside balcony and wondered if she could jump from it before going into Sonído. The problem was that if she went into Sonído then her captors would know exactly where she would end up.
Even though freedom is such a short distance away, I'm still in a cage.
The door opened and she turned. Barrcae Rureaux stood in the doorway, flanked by Gerr Hoyt and someone she never saw before. The stranger was clad in a red coat embroidered with gold and green flames. His dark red hair was tied in a top knot and a green and gold flame was tattooed on his forehead. Vallae saw that he didn't have any mask fragment, at least as far as she could see.
"I don't know why you want her," Barrcae said to the stranger.
"The Fire Prietht thaid that he thaw her in hith flameth and wath curiouth," Gerr Hoyt said, eyeing Vallae with suspicion. "I don't know why. She doethn't look like much."
The Fire Priest continued to look at Vallae. He didn't say anything.
"Well, are you satisfied now that you saw her?" Barrcae asked.
The Fire Priest nodded and turned to walk away, but stopped.
"She looks she needs to get out of this room," he said in a deep voice. "Perhaps she would like to get out of these chambers for a bit. Don't worry, you can have some of your guards chaperon her if you're worried about her trying to escape. If it will make you feel better, then I could be one of those chaperones."
Barrcae looked at her and nodded.
"Fine, but if she tries to escape then it will be your head, Priest."
The Fire Priest nodded. Vallae looked at the Priest's back with confusion. She wondered why he wanted to see her or what Gerr Hoyt meant by "thaw her in hith flameth."
The Priest turned his head and looked at her. She saw the hints of a fire in the depths of his dark green eyes.
Julius Marceaux's War Camp
Julius Marceaux watched as the hunters returned with over sixty hollows, the largest haul they brought in so far.
"They will make excellent foot soldiers, sir," General Shanna Zodd said.
Julius looked at the dark haired general, having to tilt his head up to meet her dark purple eyes and nodded.
"They can be put in the front lines, but if any of them show actual potential to be used in other positions then you will inform me."
"Yes sir," Shanna said. "Do you want to begin the Arrancarization now?"
"Of course, the sooner we get these beasts to our level the sooner we can put them to use."
"Very good, sir," she said and walked towards the command tent. Some of the other officers were gathered outside the tent, drinking watered wine.
She noticed that one of the officers was whispering, "Here comes Shanna the Fair," when he saw her approaching. They saluted her, more out of duty than any actual respect, and she returned the courtesy of answering their salutes with one of her own. However, if an officer refused to salute her then she would loom over them, glaring down at the insubordinate officer until they gave her a proper salute. She knew the importance of putting soldiers in their proper place. If any act of insubordination went unpunished then more acts of insubordination would follow.
She went into the command tent, which was filled with officers looking over maps or intelligence reports. A map of the Eastern Mountains and part of the Southern Plains was spread on a table. Markers indicating troop movements were moved around depending on the latest intelligence.
"I heard that Tuma may have just succeeded in closing the paths into the Las Noches Basin," one of the officers said.
"Tch, Lord Gilga will just open the Crossing again to whoever can give him a better offer."
"Maybe, but to get there we have to go through Rureaux territory."
"Rureaux is nothing to worry about. The only forces he's been able to assemble, other than his own, are a bunch of mercenaries. I heard that Leonisra is already reaching out to some of them."
Shanna did not come to talk strategy. She went to the safe made of crystal-wood where the most important equipment was kept. She tapped the edge of the safe and released a small amount of Reiatsu. The locking mechanisms turned and made a soft click as the safe unlocked. She reached inside and brought out a thin box. She opened it and looked at the glove with small orbs glowing pale blue light attached to the ends of the fingers and in the palms.
She wondered how Julius Marceaux got his hands on it since the last time anyone saw the glove was when Mordrath rebelled against Aizen.
"Another batch to turn?" one of the officers asked.
"Yes," Shanna said closing the box. "What's the latest word on Phayne Andjo?"
"There's nothing new to report on him or on Skullak Tuma."
"What about Rureaux?"
"He's recruiting mercenaries. However, our main concern with him is which side Merrin will decide to support. We don't know with any certainty which way he'll go."
Shanna pursed her lips in thought. If there was one Arrancar who could rival Artur Leonisra or the Guilds in the Eastern Mountains in influence it was Dayne Merrin. House Merrin, on the surface, got their wealth and prestige from the slave trade. However, the deeper one delved the more one saw that the slave trade alone wasn't reason enough for their sphere of influence. Yet no one knew exactly what it was that made House Merrin's influence so great. Those that tried only found sealed gates.
"It won't do us any good to try to send spies to the Islands of Chains. House Harribel's dominance at the southern end of the Dividing River is thanks to House Merrin. If we want to make sure that Lord Merrin won't get involved against us then I will advise Commander Marceaux to turn his attentions against Barrcae Rureaux immediately."
"What about Andjo? If we turn our attentions to Barrcae, then wouldn't he be able to attack us from the rear?" one of the other officers asked.
Shanna thought about it and then shook her head.
"He's focused on getting the Faith behind him. He wants to make sure that the new Capitaz is someone he can use. He won't launch another offensive until he's won some kind of diplomatic battle. Although, he did a fine job in losing the Guilds and I think he'll regret it, if he lives long enough.
"Even if he wins a few battles he can still lose the war."
Shanna walked out of the command tent. She saw that the hollows were already herded into individual pens. The soldiers were finishing binding them with chains reinforced with mask fragments.
"Make sure that you don't block the mask fragment," the officer in charge ordered. He turned and saluted Shanna as she approached. "General, these are ready for your inspection."
"Thank you," Shanna said and made her way to the far end of the line where the hollows were already properly bound. She could feel the Arrancar soldiers unleashing their Spiritual Energy to keep the hollows subdued.
She stopped in front of the first one, a large hulking monstrosity with the head of a bull and the body of a bear. The creature opened its mouth and she could see the mouth behind it. She felt the Spiritual Energy rising from the creature and shook her head.
"You would probably be good at only being a grunt," Shanna said as she put the glove on. The orbs' glow increased as she seeped some of her Spiritual Energy into them. "Then again, you might surprise me. I've been surprised before."
She put the glove in front of the hollow's face and felt along the mask, searching for the thin points. Those thin points determined what an Arrancar's mask fragment would look like. When she felt a thin spot she unleashed enough Reiatsu to break it. The hollow roared in pain and fear with each breaking fragment. The creature's skin rippled with each breaking, as though the creature's body was changing as well.
When it was over, the creature was still large and more humanoid in appearance. The head was completely bald save for twin horns jutting from the temples and a bull's snout over the nose and mouth. It looked at her with crimson eyes and bowed.
"You know that I'm your superior officer, don't you?"
"Y-y-yes," the creature said.
"That's 'Yes, General.'"
"Y-y-yes, G-G-General."
"Good," Shanna said and turned to the officer. "Put this one in the vanguard. It will make excellent fodder."
Sedem Sanctam
The Frater knelt with his fellow fraters, praying to The Councilor for guidance and wisdom. Phayne Andjo's soldiers were not present in the large chamber, but he could feel their eyes. Three votes had already been cast and so far the released spiritual energy had been dark grey and not white. The fourth vote for the new Capataz was being cast and so far the choice was clearly between five Illustrado.
He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and watched as one of the brown-robed Fraters stood and made his way to the great altar where the ancient moon-wood box was placed. The Frater returned his attention to the statue of The Councilor with her silver lantern and golden book.
"Councilor, shine thy wisdom upon me. Show me the path of understanding. Open thy book to me so that I may gain knowledge," he prayed.
Other priests from the different orders stood and made their way to the altar, parchment in hand to cast their votes. The Fraters were usually among the last to complete casting their votes and were rarely approached by the lead candidates or their representatives as the Fraters were known to never accept a bribe.
Unlike the members of the other orders, who usually wore ornate and richly-dyed robes, the Fraters wore simple brown rough-spun robes with hemp rope tied around their waists. Their prayer beads were of roughly hewn night-wood or stone and not metal or polished moon-wood.
"Have you received insight, Orrigian?"
Orrigian Rureaux looked up from his prayers at the head of his order. The old dark-skinned man looked down at him, his eyes were dull gold and his mask fragment, which once resembled the jaw of a snake, was chipped in places from the years. Despite his weak appearance, there were still traces of the proud warrior he had once been.
"I have yet to hear the Councilor's voice, Father," Orrigian said.
Hamma Rureaux nodded his approval. He placed his hand on top of his nephew's head in prayer.
"Councilor, shine thy light on your faithful servants. Give us the wisdom to see our paths, for all have their own paths. Show us the one whose path it is to become our next Capataz," Hamma prayed. "May our decision bring glory to The Twelve."
"May our decision bring glory to The Twelve," Orrigian said in return.
They remained on their knees as other priests walked up to the altar to cast their ballots. They were among the last to cast their own ballots into the moon-wood box. When the last priest cast his vote, the presiding Illustrado, an ancient priest whose white beard hung down to his waist. The top of his staff was a pale white twelve-pointed star with a crescent moon in the center. He handed his staff to one of his pupils and put his hands on the box.
"King, Queen, Father, Mother, Knight, Maiden, Cleric, Councilor, Archer, Huntress, Smith, and Weaver," he began. "We beseech that the ballots cast guide us to whom you choose to be our Capataz, the sacred shepherd of the flock of the faithful. Let your light guide us to unity.
"Let it be done."
"Let it be done," the priests repeated.
Once the ballots were read, the presiding Illustrado released a burst of dark grey spiritual energy that rose through the dome's oculus for all the faithful to see. A new Capataz had not been chosen.
Nido de Viboras
Vallae looked in awe at the various mercenaries gathered. Their banners hung limply and it was difficult to tell who belonged to which groups. Serving maids rushed to refill clay cups only to be grabbed by some of the revelers. She smelled roasting meat and baking bread mingled with the reek of piss and vomit. The mercenaries' steeds bayed and stomped, making their music a part of the cacophony.
She looked to some of the makeshift stages where jugglers and fools were performing while minstrels beating their drums or playing flutes, hurdy-gurdy, lyres, and other instruments. There were a wide variety of songs ranging from sung epics to bawdy songs. One of the most popular was "The Hollow and the Fair Reaper" about a hollow encountering a young Soul Reaper. When the minstrels reached the chorus, the mercenaries shouted:
From there to here and here to there
A mask of white and robes of black
They danced and they sighed under the pale moonlight
The Hollow and the Reaper Fair
"I trust that this is more to your liking," the Priest said.
"They're rather…lively," Vallae said as she saw a massive Arrancar carrying two naked women and a naked young man over his shoulder to somewhere more private.
"They're mercenaries," the Priest said as though that was all the answer needed. "But, I'm sure that their company is much better than Barrcae's." He took a horn of mead from the loosening grip of a drunk Arrancar clad in the crimson armor decorated with three grinning skulls.
"What company's he from?" Vallae asked.
The Priest looked at the young man and snorted.
"Grim Skulls," he answered. "They're the first to sign up to a cause and the first to leave, usually before the job is even done. I don't think I'll ever understand why Barrcae summoned them."
"He's most likely desperate for fighters."
"You're probably right. Mead?" The Priest held the horn out to her and she took it. She sniffed at it and grimaced at the pungently sweet aroma. "It tastes better than it smells."
She raised the horn and allowed some of the amber liquid to enter her mouth. She expected something overly sweet, but was surprised to find that it was mellow with some sharpness from the alcohol.
"When mead's done right, it can be like tasting Paradise," the Priest said. "When it's done wrong, though, it tastes like piss."
Vallae drank some more mead before handing the horn back to the Priest. The Priest gladly accepted it and drank deeply. Mead dribbled down his chin.
"I want to ask you something," Vallae said.
"What's that?"
"You're a priest aren't you, but my father made me learn about the various religions that are practiced in the Empire."
"Ah, and you're not familiar with one in which fire is vital to understanding what God wants."
"There was a faith like that once, but it died out long ago."
"Perhaps here where the Night reigns," he said before taking another swallow of mead.
"That's the thing. All of the texts that I studied only mentioned it in passing, but…how can that be when our history says that the first Arrancars were the First Families?"
"Your history lied to you," the Priest said. "It was a fabrication of truth and lie by the First Families to justify their sins."
"Then what is the truth?"
The Priest looked at her and shook his head.
"I am bound by the Flames not to tell any outside of the Sacred Blood the truth about the past. I seem to have told you more than I should have."
"Are you saying that my blood isn't sacred or noble?"
"I'm saying that you're not of the Sacred Blood."
"Then at least tell me about these flames of yours. Your commander said that you saw me in your flames."
"He's not my commander."
"You're one of the Blood Goats; that makes Gerr Hoyt your commander."
"I'm not one of them. I'm merely a traveling priest whom he took a liking to because I gave him a favorable reading."
Vallae blinked at him, clearly at a loss of words.
"You…you tricked him?"
"I didn't have much of a choice. He was going to kill me and I decided that I would become his soothsayer of sorts."
"So you lied to him."
"Dear girl, all religions lie to some degree or another. What you have to do is to decipher what is true and what isn't. If you just blindly accept everything that a religious leader tells you then you might as well put yourself in chains. Just because I lied to him about his fortune does not mean that I lie about other things."
"Like what?"
The Priest led her to one of the fires and pointed at it.
"Look into the flames and tell me what you see."
"I only see flames."
"That's because you're not looking hard enough. I used to be like you: desiring to know truth. I was skeptical about everything the Priests told me when I was an acolyte. Even when I became clad in the red robes I doubted. Then I sailed westward at the order of the High Priestess of Aihar."
"Who's Aihar?"
The Priest did not answer. Instead he only looked into the flames.
"The ship I was on was caught in a storm. As the ship sank I began to see images in the lightning that told me that I would survive and I did."
"Are you sure that it wasn't just your mind playing tricks?"
"I know it was. But that doesn't matter. What matters is that those projections of my mind gave me a reason to live. Self-fulfilling prophecies are always accurate, unlike the prophecies written in ancient texts.
"Then I saw my first true vision."
"What do you mean?"
Before the Priest could respond someone called out.
"Aisarha, some idiot didn't believe me when I told you about your sword."
The Priest rolled his eyes and turned to face the speaker. Vallae saw that it was a male Arrancar clad in a long dark red coat with the blood goat head embroidered on the left breast. He wore a dark emerald green ascot and his mask fragment were two thin strips of bone that ran along his temples and down his cheeks before flaring out at the corners of his mouth.
"Where is he, Krauss?"
"Over there," Krauss said, pointing to a group of mercenaries wearing hollow masks like armor, their faces painted dark orange. Their leader, a large brute with thick sideburns and a mohawk dyed bright red-orange, looked at the Priest and pointed.
"You!" he roared. "Your fellow goats told me about your sword. Is it true that it burns or something?"
"Yeah," the Priest said, draining the rest of his mead.
"Do you know what I told them?"
The Priest made sure that the horn was empty before tossing it aside. He put a hand on the pommel and grinned.
"I suppose that you called them a bunch of liars."
"No. I told them that they were a pile of lying shits."
The Priest shrugged.
"Close enough, I suppose."
"And I call you a lying sack of shit, too."
The other mercenaries with orange faces laughed at that while the other Blood Goats gathered. Vallae saw that some of the other bands were starting to get interested as well. She looked at the Priest and saw that he was smiling.
"I've been called worse," the Priest said.
"And I call your god a lying sack of shit too," the leader said.
Vallae could feel a chill radiate from the Priest and saw that his smile lost most of its joviality. The Priest took a step forward.
"What god do you serve?" the Priest asked.
"Huh?"
"I asked you what god you serve."
"I serve The Twelve. Who do you serve?"
"You wouldn't know the name, for the Night has shrouded the Day but the Dawn is coming again."
"What's that supposed to mean? Wait, are you challenging me to a duel?"
"Only if you want it to be a duel. However, I could just bring out my sword and show everyone here whether my colleagues are telling the truth or not."
"Why not a duel?" one of the orange-faced mercenaries asked. Many of the other gathered mercenaries applauded and began to demand a duel.
"Thothe foolth don't know what they're in for," Gerr Hoyt said. "A thouthand gold pietheth on the Prietht."
"You hear them Aisarha," another Blood Goat, a woman with half of her head shaven and her hair bright purple, said. "They want a show."
"Well," Aisarha said, still rubbing the pommel. "I suppose I shouldn't disappoint them."
With one swift motion, he drew his sword. Vallae gasped when she saw the slightly curved blade burst into green and gold flames. Many of the other mercenaries backed away.
"Heaven's Pyre," she whispered. In her youth she read stories about Heaven's Pyre, the most destructive substance that was ever made. The last time that any Arrancar in the Empire saw it being used was at the Tournament of Fire during the reign of the Mad Emperor, Reygal Leonisra.
The leader of orange-faced mercenaries stared in awe at the sword.
"So, are you sure that you want to duel?"
"N-no," he said. "It appears that I was wrong. Here, have some drink and some women. My gifts to you as an apology."
Aisarha sheathed his sword and smiled.
"Don't mind if I do."
Vallae watched as the Priest made his way to join the orange-faced mercenaries with some of the other Blood Goats. A hand clasped her shoulder and she turned to see Gerr Hoyt smiling at her.
"Enjoy the show?" he asked. "How did you like hith thword?"
"I…I…I…"
"Thtop blathering like an idiot. I know that you thaw it for what it wath, Heaven'th Pyre."
"But it's impossible. His sheath would have burned away along with him. Heaven's Pyre burns everything that it touches."
"Apparently not," Gerr Hoyt said, his grin widening. "Did he tell you he joined my little band?"
"He said that you found him. He mentioned that he was in a ship wreck."
"Aye, that maketh thenth. I found him along the shore. Back then hith thword didn't burn like that and that wathn't the only thing thtrange about him."
"What do you mean?"
"No mathk and no hole," he said. "Think about that. An Arrancar with no mathk and no hole."
"An abomination," she whispered.
"Aye, I wanted to kill him, but then he read my fortune. He read the flameth for me and I knew I couldn't kill him. It would be a wathte of a good thing."
Vallae didn't think of telling him that the Priest lied to him. Instead her mind reeled with what he told her. The Priest's sword didn't burn at first and he had no mask and no hole. She looked at the Priest and began to wonder about what other secrets he might have.
Las Noches
Victor Cuuhlhourne stood on top of the dome, looking out across the sea of sand at the band coming closer. His grip tightened on the letter he received from Lady Occuldae. He knew exactly what Phayne Andjo was doing, but the sister was making him more nervous.
"Do you know what Merrin is doing?" the shrouded figure beside him asked.
"I'm afraid I don't. I only heard that he sent a message out to Barrcae Rureaux, but I don't know exactly what's in it."
"Occuldae told me the exact same thing. But what do you think he's doing?"
"It's hard to say. But we do know that he's involved himself a lot with House Rureaux. He's taken in those dame Rureaux vipers, but I suppose he's just keeping an eye on them."
"Perhaps he's trying to find a way to utilize them into his plans."
"It could be, or it could be that he wants to make sure that they don't interfere. He knows that the brother and uncle won't interfere seeing as how they took to religion."
The shrouded figure gazed at the coming party.
"The other sister?"
"Yes, and it looks like she brought the Black Wolf along as well. I'm sure it's just the young wolf's Arrancarization party. He'll be going into the Crystalline Forest once the others get back from seeing the Old Scorpion."
"You suggested it to Tuma?"
"I did. It's his best option right now while the others focus on each other. What have you been up to?"
"I've been seeing an old friend."
"Have you now? How is Gregor doing these days?"
"He's getting old. The younger krakens are a little on edge, and The Reaver is still away."
"I'm sure he's out plundering somewhere and planting little krakens into every young girl he comes across."
"I'm sure he'll return home as soon he gets word about his father. Gregor Korson won't last much longer and he knows it. He'll be walking into the sea soon and when that happens all bets are off. It's not enough for his children to inherit the title of 'Monarch of the Seas and Rivers'. They want to truly wear the crown for that."
"Then they'll get involved too. Does House Tiburon know about Gregor's status?"
"Of course they do. They're scrambling to line up a new treaty with each of the krakens."
Victor nodded.
"What about Jon Amens?" the shrouded figure asked.
"He's not a problem for now. I'll make sure that someone keeps watch over him and his friends, though. If this 'Brotherhood of Liberty' amounts to anything then we'll have to act quickly."
"And the situation in the East?"
"Uneasy, right now, but we knew it was going to be that way. Also there's the matter of Mordrath Luisenbarn."
"What about him? He's dead, isn't he?"
"I don't think so. You know full well that Aizen didn't fool him for a moment. He deceived Aizen, the only Arrancar to actually succeed in doing so."
"The usurper was a fool, so that's not much of an accomplishment."
"It may be not for you, but you were not here while Aizen was in charge. Aizen manipulated everything to get his way, but Mordrath succeeded in pushing his plans back further than he believed. Mordrath's little stunt forced Aizen to plan to get a hold of another Hogyoku. In the meantime, Mordrath successfully manipulated things to where other Houses outside of Las Noches could get a hold of the technology."
"Your point, Victor? We knew that he was going to be a player on the board."
"My point is that Mordrath may be a bigger player than we originally anticipated. We originally thought he was going to be a kin to a knight or a rook, but what if he's a much more important piece?"
"Regardless, it's not our problem. If Mordrath's still alive then he's clearly keeping a low profile."
"Yes, and that indicates to me that he's going to be playing the rest of the pieces."
"A piece playing other pieces? Are you going to suggest that he may then play the players?"
"It's happened before. Or didn't you pay attention?"
The other figure didn't say anything and Victor could hear the sound of a garganta opening and closing. He looked at Lady Occuldae's letter and released enough spiritual energy to burn it.
Lune d'Argent
Jean Parros held out the glass goblet and Margaret Andjo poured dark golden wine into it. His shoulder-length dark violet hair was pulled back into a tail held by a silver ring. He was clad in a long white coat with lavender lace poking out of the sleeves and a powder-blue ascot. His mask fragment covered the top of his head and his left eye. Agneaux Andjo tore a piece of silver-dove meat from the small body and popped it into his mouth. One of his doves stood nearby holding a decanter filled with blood-red night-berry wine.
The dining hall was an extravagant display of wealth and prestige. Chandeliers made of silver and diamonds hung from the marble ceiling. Mirrors lined the entire length of one wall while the other was nothing but glass hung between great blood-stone columns with gold leaf showing a view of the mountains and vales surrounding the palace of Lune d'Argent. The floor was polished stone alternating white marble and black fire glass veined with silver and gold with amethysts shaped into fleur-de-lys embedded into each stone panel. Statues of nude youths stood on either side of the doors. Scantily clad doves, both male and female, lined the mirror wall, ready to serve.
"So, Jean," Agneaux said, "I understand that my nephew has you to thank for fifty units of cavalry. I'm sure he'll put them to good use against House Marceaux and that Skullak fellow."
"I'm sure he will," Jean Parros said with a tone of arrogance in his honeyed voice. He stroked his oiled chin beard and twirled the end to further curl the point. "I trust that your nephew will remember those who rendered him aid."
"I'll make sure that he remembers it. I'm sure that the Southern Plains will be in need of a new High Lord, or do you prefer the title of Chancellor?"
"Whatever his majesty approves of," Jean said. He looked at Margaret and smiled. "I have another thousand foot-soldiers and two hundred cavalry ready if a treaty between our two houses is finalized."
"Oh, I'm sure my nephew has enough soldiers at his disposal."
"I also have a full treasury at my disposal. Every great endeavor requires coin and I'm sure that you would rather want to not have to deal with the guilds."
Agneaux smiled and leaned towards Jean.
"And what do you have in mind to seal our negotiations."
"Your niece's hand. She promised my brother her hand if he acquired the Hogyoku from the Reaper usurper. He retrieved it and I'm here to collect in his stead."
"Oh-ho, I see that you think that and Andjo would back out of such a deal. I would normally agree with you, but since he decided to use it to his own advantage instead of returning here with his prize, well…"
"That doesn't mean anything," Jean said. "He kept his word."
"Then there's the matter that the Hogyoku he retrieved was a fake," Agneaux said.
Jean paled at that.
"Did you think that I wouldn't know about it? Well, fortunately for you, I don't really care whether it was a fake or not."
Margaret looked at her uncle with disgust while Jean looked hopeful. Agneaux held up his emptied goblet and the dove refilled it. He smiled as he began to rub her back with his free hand. The dove smiled in return and knelt next to him, still holding the decanter.
"All that I care about is what you can offer me. How much gold do you have in your treasury?"
"Thirty-thousand gold pieces and twice that in silver and copper."
"I trust that you are not merely pulling shrouds over my eyes with your numbers."
"Do you really doubt my sincerity?"
Agneaux looked at Margaret who only glared back at him.
"My niece thinks that she's above your station, and I must agree with her. However, I don't have a problem with sealing our pact with a marriage, so long as you give me a down payment."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, how do I know that you won't negate on our bargain after you marry my niece?"
Jean bit his lower lip and looked at Margaret who continued not to look at him. He could tell that she was thinking about something. He returned his attention to Agneaux.
"I suppose I could send a quarter of my forces to your nephew now and have my servants give a hundredth of my treasury to you as a sign of good faith."
"That would be a start. But not my niece's hand in marriage."
"Then what would be good enough for you?"
"A signed contract should do." Agneaux turned his attention to the dove at his side. "Go, my dove, and fetch the contract I've prepared."
The dove stood and made her way out of the dining hall. She handed her decanter to another dove who quickly sat next to Agneaux.
"My little doves are such good girls," Agneaux said. "And they know how to please."
"I'm sure they do, High Lord."
"I could lend you a dove or two to warm your bed, Jean. Would you like that?"
"If it pleases you, High Lord."
"What kind of dove do you prefer: light, dark, feminine, or slightly masculine? Perhaps you like to have dominion or be dominated. I have all kinds of doves to fulfill every taste."
Jean smiled and raised his goblet.
"I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy working with you, High Lord Andjo."
Nido de Viboras
Vallae looked up as the doors to the meeting hall opened. Barrcae Rureaux walked in, clutching a piece of paper in one hand. His brow furrowed with rage as he made his way to the head of the table. The commanders of his forces stood and he gestured for them to sit. He held up the piece of paper in his hand.
"Who told Lord Merrin of my plans?" he asked.
No one said anything. Barrcae threw the paper onto the table. He looked at those gathered with a predatory gleam in his hawk-like eyes.
"I am surrounded by cowards," he muttered.
"My lord," one of Barrcae's generals said. His dark brown eyes were filled with fear as he stood. "I don't know what this is about, but I can assure you that none of us..."
"Read the letter if you don't know what I'm talking about," Barrcae roared and banged a fist on the table.
Another general, a woman with bright red hair that seemed to clash with her dark skin took up the piece of paper. Her pale lilac eyes looked over the message and she handed the piece of paper to another of the generals present.
"It seems to be good news," she said. "I don't see why it's upsetting."
"Of course you don't, sister," Barrcae snarled. "I bet you agree with our other sisters and think I need a minder as though I was still a child."
The woman sat back and muttered under her breath. She twisted the gold ring of a coiled snake on the ring finger of her right hand.
"My lady," Lord Reighardt said from beside her. She took the letter from him and read it.
Lord Rureaux,
I must first congratulate you on standing for your right to the throne in Las Noches. It is good to see another man of the South take initiative to become a powerful force in the world. However, I must urge caution on your part. You may not have the same amount of support behind you as the other claimants, but that can change.
My son assures me that he'll have at least seven-thousand of the Purified prepared to march to war within two months by World of the Living standard. I urge you to be patient. Hold off on any attack you may have planned before then. This way you don't have to rely on the unreliable mercenary bands you have assembled.
As you know, the words of House Merrin are, "Bind All Under Heaven" and we intend to do just that. The Southern Plains needs a strong leader who will not bow to the will of the Eastern Mountains as Chancellor Leonisra intends to do. We need a man of the South to be a force to be reckoned with. I am unable to be that man due to my condition. I see great potential in you, but you must be patient. You must grow more before you can seize what is yours.
I urge you, do not attack Marceaux. Let Marceaux and Andjo destroy each other first and then turn your attention to Las Noches. Do not permit them to notice you at this present time. You are not strong enough to face them. You may look at yourself as a viper, but a viper needs the grass to hide it so that it may succeed in devouring its prey. If the viper goes out in the open, then the hawk could clutch it in its talons.
The Vipers know this to be true and are waiting until a force of seven thousand Purified are ready and, as difficult as it is for them, are prepared to wait before striking out to bury their fangs into their prey.
If we are to bind all under Heaven then we must work together. If you accept me as your ally then wait for two months before making your move.
I remain your faithful ally,
Lord of the Bound Harpy and Master of Chains,
Dayne Merrin
"Dayne Merrin," Vallae whispered.
"Yes," Lord Reighardt said. "He's the patriarch of one of the most powerful houses in all of Hueco Mundo. Barrcae Rureaux used some of his slavers against the Amazonians."
"He says that he's my faithful ally," Barrcae continued. "I say that he'll only be my ally as long as it's to his advantage. As for his offering of seven thousand Purified…it's nothing but a mere ploy to get me in his debt. Even now he plays the slaver."
"What are these 'Purified'?" Vallae asked.
"You know how the Amazonians are the elite fighting force in the Southern Plains," Lord Reighardt said. "No army ever defeated them in combat, except for the Purified. At the Siege of Yarma, a force of six hundred Purified faced an army of ten thousand Amazonians. At the end of the battle, a hundred and fifty of the Purified and three thousand Amazonians remained. Yyava Mila Rose, the High Queen of the Amazonians and one of their greatest military leaders, and two of her daughters were killed. Her sole surviving daughter rode past the remaining Purified soldiers and shaved her head before them. All of her surviving soldiers did the same, a show of the greatest respect."
"If that's true then why would Barrcae refuse an offering of seven thousand of them?"
"Barrcae is like his brother, Zommari: impulsive. However, unlike Zommari, Barrcae usually isn't able to maintain an air of calm and control."
Vallae smiled a little. She looked at the message again. Perhaps, if something happened to Barrcae in battle then she wondered if she could convince House Merrin to give her the Purified. It would help her to reclaim the Southern Plains from House Rureaux and make it stronger than before. The Southern Plains would no longer have to bend the knee to Las Noches and House Leonisra, a House that had no true ties to the Southern Plains, could be sent back to the Eastern Mountains where they belonged.
"I will show that cripple that I don't need him," Barrcae roared. "Generals, assemble your armies and get the mercenaries together. Beat the drums of war and blow the battle horns. We will march against House Marceaux. We will meet the double-headed eagle in battle and bring them down. Now, beat the drums of war!"
Outside Las Noches
The two men wearing white and light blue uniforms made sure to conceal their Reiatsu from the creatures below. One looked at the screen of the laptop and nodded.
"Daten updated," Schultz Leiden, the leader of the Erkundung force sent to Hueco Mundo, said. "The Jagd Armee should be able to launch the invasion ahead of schedule. Franz, inform the others that our work here is nearly complete. I want to get out of this Höllenloch as quickly as possible."
"Fine," Franz Weiss said, looking away from his own screen. He touched the five-pointed cross hanging from his wrist.
"Gregor, Martin, report," Franz said. He continued to press the medallion and frowned. "Gregor, Martin, report if you can hear me."
"What's wrong?" Schultz asked.
"I can't raise Gregor or Martin," Franz said. "I think that the feindlich got them."
"Impossible. None of the feindlich came this way," Franz said. He pressed a hand to the Quincy cross hanging from around his neck. "Gregor, Martin, report." He paused. "Scheiss," he whispered. "Gregor, Martin, I order you to report."
There was still nothing.
"Franz, send the daten back to Vandenreich. I need to…"
He caught movement out of the corner of his eyes. He turned and saw two men in the same uniforms of white and light blue.
"Gregor, Martin, why didn't you follow protocol and report when you were called?"
Neither man responded. Instead, they only stared ahead of them.
Something's wrong, Schultz thought. They look as if they're in a daze. Did one of the feindlich get to them?
"Hey, what's going on?" Franz asked. He saw their two fellow soldats and stood. "Gregor, Martin…what's wrong? What's…?"
Franz's eyes widened and he cried out in surprise. Schultz turned and saw a blade that looked to be made of ice and fire protruding from the man's chest. He could make out someone clad in a long black coat standing behind the soldat.
"What the…?" Schultz began. Then he felt someone grab him from behind. He turned his head and saw two eyes that were like twin blood-red flames trapped inside clear ice.
Schultz felt as if a piece of dry ice was sinking into his back.
The daten, he thought, I have to get the daten out. The…the Emperor must know he…he can get…
"I'm afraid we can't let you do that," someone said.
Schultz looked ahead and saw Franz standing before him. His eyes were like pale blue flames in ice.
"What?"
"It's not time for the fun to begin," Gregor said as he turned to the computer. Schultz watched in horror as Gregor destroyed the equipment, making sure that all of the daten was lost with it.
"Traitors," Schultz said. He reached for his sword, but Franz reached out and grabbed his wrist. Schultz felt a chill run up his arm and he saw that Franz's hand had turned blue, save for the fingers which were black.
"Join us," Franz said. "Become one with the Forerunners as we are one with them. Look into The Void and see your salvation."
Schultz struggled, but the grip tightened. It was as though the cold of that hand was now penetrating into his very bones. Schultz looked wide-eyed as Franz raised a hand.
"It's useless to resist," Franz said and smiled. "Le Mort rides the worlds and you will ride with him as we ride with him. The harvest is nigh and Le Mort needs workers to help with the reaping."
Schultz watched as Reishi gathered about Franz's hand and became a sickle. The blade gleamed like ice in the morning sun. He screamed as Franz brought the blade down, cutting through his neck without leaving a mark. Schultz's eyes glazed with death, but then the spark of the Un-Life ignited in his eyes. He looked out at the moonlit land and smiled.
The harvest was bountiful and he would help with the reaping.
End of Chapter 13
A.N.: After a year hiatus, I'm back.
Like the previous chapter, the main purpose of this chapter is to hint at events that are yet to come as well as introduce characters, both seen and only mentioned, who will play vital roles down the road. Also, I'm dismantling the history that I established in earlier chapters because I rethought it and I decided that the history that the majority of Arrancars know is a false history (much like the stories of Christopher Columbus and the pilgrims in America that were taught in school). The true history is much more barbarous and I am currently doing research into actual world history as well as various "histories" for fantasy worlds to write a comprehensive history of Hueco Mundo and the world of Soul Reapers. The major inspirations for this shift in establishing the Arrancar's history are "The World of Ice and Fire" by George R. R. Martin and "The Silmarillion" by J.R.R. Tolkien.
Thank you for reading and please review.