Rose rubbed at her greying temples, weary, maps and papers scattered in messy heaps across her desk. The Sentinel behind her put a heavy hand on her shoulder. She started, turned and smiled up at it.
"I'm fine," she told it. "I'm just a little tired."
It tilted its faceless head, studying her. She shivered a little. The Sentinels sometimes frightened her, for all that she had helped to create them. It straightened abruptly, looking towards the hall.
"Good evening, my lady wife."
Marius gave her a perfunctory peck on the cheek, peered over her shoulder.
"You're still working?"
"Always," she said.
"It's a tricky business, running an Empire."
"How's Florian holding up?"
Marius winced.
"I do wish you wouldn't call him that. The Emperor is doing well. He is confident that we can repel this barbarian incursion."
"He's not the Emperor," Rose said tiredly. "He's a figurehead."
"But a figurehead we need. And you have to admit, he does make a striking one."
"Have you seen these reports?" Rose asked him, changing the subject. "The Sentinels have been close enough to the barbarian lord to get a feel for his magic. He's extremely powerful. We need to deal with him before he makes things too...untidy."
"What would you advise?"
"If he's anything like the Overlord-" She felt her heart lurch at the name, pushed the old grief below with the ease of long practice. "-Before him, he'll be searching for the hives of those creatures. We have the Blue Hive. You could use that to lure him in."
He stared at her, considering.
"You seem to know an awful lot about this barbarian. You keep calling him the 'Overlord', for one."
"You've read pre-Cataclysm history, haven't you?" she asked him. "There has always been an Overlord, just as there have always been Heroes to defeat him. My own father helped to destroy the Second Overlord."
"Ah, so it's something in the blood, is it?"
"You could say that. My spies have been keeping an eye on this particular Overlord for years. I'm more than happy to help you and Solarius destroy him."
After the news had come that her son had died in Nordberg, drowned beneath the cold sea, something inside her had also died. The only thing that had given her purpose had been her work with the Empire. She had buried herself in her work, feeling nothing. And then, a few years ago, her network had picked up vague rumors of demons in the North, of a tall figure in black, hunting with the wolves. She had finally felt something then- a cold, white rage.
Gnarl had always told her that evil would find a way. She'd suspected that there was some sort of symbiotic relationship between a Master and his minions. Gnarl had certainly been desperate enough to keep her and her unborn child in the Tower. She knew they needed a Master, but somehow their acquisition of a new Overlord felt strangely like a betrayal. She didn't know where they'd found this particular brute, and she didn't much care. She only knew that she wanted to bring him down.
"Rose, are you alright?" Marius asked her.
She put a hand to her head, realized she'd been grinding her teeth.
"Yes. I'm...I'm just a little overworked. Go on to bed, I'll join you after I've finished up here."
"Who isn't overworked, these days?" He pecked her cheek again, left her alone.
She sighed, looking down at her papers. Truth be told, she would rather sleep at her desk than join him in their loveless bed, but if she didn't, the slaves might talk.
"This will all be over soon," she told the Sentinel. "Everything will finally be in order. And then it will all be worth it."
It only stared at her, faceless and silent. She squared her shoulders and went to join her husband.
-x-
Kelda made her limping way into the mess hall, trying not to grimace. She'd woken from a restless sleep to realize she was ravenous- the minions told her she'd slept through several straight days. She was still angry, a dull ache that twinged and throbbed along with her wounds.
Gnarl waggled his ears at her, looking pleased. Juno sat a little ways down the table, looking stricken.
"Mistress Kelda! I'm so glad to see you looking well again. How are you feeling?"
"Less like a pincushion."
"Come, eat, you need to keep up your strength!"
He gestured, and one of the minions pulled out her chair for her. She sat, oddly touched by the courtesy. Had Gnarl been worried about her?
Juno was staring at her, looking at her bandages. Kelda met her eyes, gaze hard. Juno swallowed and looked away, for once not saying anything.
"For you, Mistress!" Quaver declared proudly.
Gnarl struck the platter out of his hands.
"Quaver, what is this slop?" he snarled. "The Mistress deserves better, don't you think? Only the choicest cuts for our Lady."
"That's really not necessary," Kelda stammered.
"Don't hit!" Quaver shrieked, scampering back. "I'm sorry, Mistress! I'll be right back!"
"What was that all about?" Kelda demanded. "I'm bloody hungry!"
"You should have something better than the sludge he serves the rest of us," Gnarl said fondly.
Juno looked down at her plate, looked back and forth between them, mournful.
"Can we get you anything, Mistress?" Gnarl asked Kelda eagerly. "Cushions? Something to drink? Would you like a minion to serve as your footstool?"
"What?" she asked, bewildered, and more than a little amused. He was being so very solicitous, it was quite unlike him. "No, Gnarl, please, stop worrying about me. I'm fine now."
"Well, if you should need anything, Mistress, please, just ask."
"I could use some new silks!" Juno said.
Gnarl ignored her as the crystal he carried let out a discordant note.
"Let's see what the Master's up to, shall we?"
He gestured, and an image flowed from the crystal, hung suspended in space above them, limned in blue lightning. He settled back, grinning.
"Nothing quite like dinner and a show. The Master has found the blues, Mistresses! It looks like he has the Empire running scared! Ha! Look at them go!"
Empire soldiers were staggering into an marble-columned building with the hive.
"That's the palace," Juno observed. "I wonder why they're taking it there?"
The witch boy followed them at a fast clip, minions boiling eagerly around his legs.
"That's Solarius," Juno said slowly.
"Good!" Gnarl cried. "Strike him down, Master, and-"
Everything shuddered suddenly, and the picture vanished. It flickered once, briefly, and Kelda saw her witch boy, on his hands and knees, before it was gone. She stood, knocking her chair back. Her wounds screamed at her, but she ignored them, her heart hammering.
"Gnarl, what happened?"
He was working on the crystal, spinning golden threads in the air above him, clawed hands flitting frantically.
"I don't know, Mistress!" he said. "They must have activated the anti-magic shield!"
"Is he okay? Won't that hurt him?"
"I don't know, Mistress!" he snapped again. "Hang on, let me work."
She heard a squeal, smelled something burning, as one of the golden threads snapped loose, whipping through a pair of minions. Gnarl swore, catching it in his claws.
"What should we do with it?" she heard someone ask, voice refracting weirdly through the crystal.
"Take him to the Arena," She heard Marius say, his voice unmistakable in its smugness. "Let him see the error of his ways."
The golden threads flailed, and Juno ducked with a squeak. Gnarl spared them a glance.
"You'd better get out of here, Mistresses. I wouldn't want you getting hurt, this thing can get a little unpredictable when it goes haywire." He gave the crystal a punishing thump.
"Oh, dear, the Arena." Juno yawned and rose. "I'm going to go pack my things, just in case."
"You bitch!" Kelda snapped, furious. "Don't you care?"
Juno shrugged.
"Sure, I care. I care about being on the winning side, sweetheart."
She swayed away, unconcerned. Kelda glared at her retreating back, turned back to Gnarl, feeling helpless.
"We have to help him! Where's the closest portal to the Arena?"
He stopped what he was doing, gave her a grave look.
"Mistress Kelda, we can't get through the anti-magic shield, even if we wanted to."
"Fine, then take me to a portal outside the city, I don't care!"
"It's too dangerous!" He was staring at her, protective. "We can't let anything happen to you, Mistress, you're wounded, and even you can't face the Empire alone!"
"I'll bring my wolves," Kelda snapped. "The minions!"
"We can't win without him," Gnarl said grimly.
"But we can't just leave him there! I have to help him!"
He sighed.
"Go bother Grubby. Get him to work on finding a way to get a portal through to the city. Kick him around a bit, it might make him work faster."
She nodded, raced into the depths of the fortress without a second thought.
Florian stared down at the fallen barbarian lord, smirking beneath the mask.
"I hate to say it, but you were right, Marius. Dumb bastard charged in after the hive without a second thought. Great idea, by the way."
Marius preened like some kind of mangy shore bird.
"Thank you, my lord."
The barbarian groaned faintly. He was a massive brute. Beneath his dark armor, he wore skins and teeth. Florian felt his lip curl. Why had the gods seen fit to give this uncultured savage such a rare grasp of magic, when they'd given him nothing at all? He kicked the fallen lord, petulant. The barbarian stirred, and Florian started back hastily, almost tripping over Marius.
"Don't worry, my lord. The anti-magic shield will keep him pinned down. He can't hurt you.
"I know that!" Florian snapped, looked around, hoping no one else had seen his undignified scramble.
He stared down at the barbarian, fascinated. Gold eyes opened a fraction beneath the black helm, closed as the barbarian lord shuddered.
"Do you think it hurts?" Florian asked.
"The shield, my lord? I think it does hurt him, yes."
"Good." Florian crouched, looking down at the Demon Lord. Up close, he could see that his skin was covered in strange whirling blue and white tattoos-
He stopped, leaned closer. No, not tattoos. The barbarian's skin was a strange, unhealthy-looking blue grey.
"Could it be?" he wondered aloud.
"My lord?"
Rose had told them that she had lost her kid, her face twisting, her eyes full of tears. He'd assumed that the little brat had finally gotten himself into a tangle with something he couldn't handle. They'd all told her how very sorry indeed they were for her loss, had secretly breathed a sigh of relief that her wild child was the gods' problem instead of theirs.
Rose had also been the Mistress of an Overlord. She was a cunning, consumate liar, and she was nothing if not resourceful.
He slipped his mask off, ignoring Marius' protests, pulled off the helmet. A familiar riot of black hair spilled across the tile. He pulled down the wrappings around the barbarian's face, saw the delicate patterns etched across high cheekbones.
"Well, well, well," he chuckled. "Welcome back, brat."
"You know him?" Marius asked, startled.
Florian rose, smirking, wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
"Marius...I'm guessing that your lady wife hasn't been entirely honest with you."
"What do you mean?"
"Let me tell you a little story about a very wicked boy, a very naughty girl, and all the naughty, wicked things they did together..."
-x-
"My lady wife," Marius said, offered her his arm, formal.
Rose pushed back from her desk and took it, smiling.
"Everything is ready, then?"
"Yes, my darling. The barbarian is caged, waiting for the arena." He smiled, proud. "He's drawn quite a crowd. It should be a good show. We've let him keep his weapon and his armor. Solarius and I have even decided to let him use his magic, so we can show the people the true folly of it."
"Magic?" Rose hesitated. "Marius, are you sure that's wise?"
"Everything is under control, don't worry your pretty head."
He patted her hand, and she resisted the urge to slap him. Those urges were getting more and more frequent these days.
"Come, my wife. Let us watch the fall of the Demon Lord."
Rose took her seat beside him in the sun-warmed Arena, gazing out over the throng. There were thousands of Empire citizens, packed into the seats, standing in the aisles, craning their necks to see. Sentinels stood atop the Arena walls, faceless hoods moving slowly back and forth, ever watchful. Rose folded her hands in her lap, smiling grimly. As a rule, she took no joy in watching the one-sided battles in the Arena, but this was one time she would be happy to see bloodshed. Florian stood beside her, wearing his golden mask and opulent robes, staring regally down at the sands.
Marius was speaking, now, stirring the crowd into a frenzy. The gate rumbled open, and the Demon Lord of Nordberg limped through. Rose smiled, hard, leaned forward to get a better look at the man who had dared to take her lover's title.
He was tall, wore a familiar black helmet, held a vast dark axe- and his skin-
Rose caught her breath, feeling like she'd been punched in the gut.
His skin was a familiar grey-blue, covered with strange, raised spirals. She'd held that skin against her own, traced the patterns on his face, spent hours looking into those wide gold eyes.
Thorn!
It wasn't possible, she thought. It couldn't be, the Legionnaires had said the demon lad from Nordberg had drowned. She'd locked her heart away after that, made it into a stone. She felt her heart lurch painfully back to life, doubled over in her seat. Marius, still speechifying, didn't even seem to notice her distress.
Thorn! She thought again. Oh gods, oh gods, it's been him this whole time!
She stood, trembling, feeling like she would be sick.
"I need to go," she whispered.
Marius smiled at her.
"So soon, my lady wife? Whatever for? The games have just begun."
"I don't feel well."
"Oh, but believe me, you'll want to see this."
Her son was prowling the edges of the Arena, testing its confines.
"Ha! He doesn't even know where the Arena starts, and where it ends!" Marius gestured. "Send in the first round. Let everyone see what happens to bad slaves."
"Please, Marius, I think it's the sun. I need to go lie down."
He ignored her, focused on the games.
"This is the end for you, witch boy!" she heard him shout. He turned, and looked her straight in the eyes.. "Oh, yes. I know all about you."
She turned, suddenly frightened. A trio of guards stood in the door to the Imperial suite, eyeing her coldly.
"Oh," she said faintly.
"Sit down, Rose." Marius snapped.
She sat, unable to watch. How had he found her out? His hand tightened on her shoulder.
"Look, Rose," he snapped. "I want you to see this."
She looked up, eyes watering, as a unicorn stabbed her son in the thigh, heard him cry out, saw him roll aside.
"Why are you doing this?" Rose asked him.
His grip on her shoulder tightened. She winced.
"Marius...darling...you're hurting me."
"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded.
"I didn't know how, my love, I'm...I'm so sorry."
"Don't call me that, you harlot. I took you in when you were a refugee, you and your bastard, and you had the absolute gall to tell me your 'husband' perished in the Cataclysm. And now Solarius tells me that you were the Overlord's mistress! No wonder you knew so much about this barbarian!"
"Marius, please. I didn't know he- I didn't know he was my son! I thought he'd been killed, or-"
He gave her a cold smile.
"Well, you won't have long to wait for that, Rose."
She looked down, felt her heart stop for an instant. A Gargantuan was in the ring with her son.
"No," she whispered. "Please, stop this. He's my son, Marius. Please, I'll do anything-"
"Really, this all explains so much," Marius snapped. "What a fool I've been! You never loved me."
"Darling, please, just let me explain-"
He turned away from her to address the crowd. She shivered, turned to Florian.
"Please," she whispered. "Please, don't do this. I trusted you."
The golden mask stared back at her, regal and haughty. She felt rage kindling, blooming through her veins.
"I'll tell them," she hissed. "I'll tell them all. Don't think I won't."
The Emperor and Marius exchanged a look. Marius gestured to the guards.
"I'm afraid my poor lady wife is having a touch of hysterics. Women, you know. Take her back to my villa, and see that she stays there."
A guard took her by the elbow, and she jerked her arm away.
"I can see myself out, thank you. I don't need to be carried."
She stood, legs shaking, met her husband's eyes.
"Please," she begged him, one last time. "We can stop this, you and I. There has to be some way to make a truce with him-"
"The Empire will make no truce with your bastard son," he snapped. "Get out of my sight."
She followed the guards out, trembling, leaned against the wall. One of the guards put a hand on her shoulder.
"Lady Rose, are you alright?"
She stabbed him in the throat. He gagged, clutching at his neck, poison spreading purple tendrils through his skin. She moved as fast as she was able, stabbed the guard in front of her in the back. He toppled, her dagger tangled in his cloak.
The third guard gaped at her, drew his sword. She pulled her dagger out of the other guard's body, watching him warily. He was young, and strong, and she no longer had the advantage of surprise.
"I don't want to have to hurt you, Lady Rose," he said. "But I will if I have to."
She sent her will out, beckoning to the Sentinels. They glided from their posts on the walls, drifting towards her. She looked up at the Imperial box. Marius and Florian didn't seem to notice, intent on the battle below.
"Lady Rose, drop the knife and come with me."
She dropped the dagger, raising her hands as the Sentinels streamed into the depths of the Arena, surrounding her.
Help me, she thought.
They gathered around her, touching her, staffs humming. The guard's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to yell. She reached out and sucked the breath from his lungs, buoyed up by the Sentinel's power. He fell to his knees, clawing at his throat, fell flat on his face and went still. Rose took a deep breath, her own hand going to her throat.
"Get rid of these," she said, pointing at the bodies.
The Sentinels shifted something, a sidestep in space and time, and the bodies vanished. Rose retrieved her dagger.
"That's better."
She could see her son through the crush of the crowd, whirling around the Gargantuan. Rose watched the battle raging, clutching at the Sentinel's corpse-cold hand. He was proving quick, and he was proving clever, but he was flagging.
"I did this," she whispered. "He's in there because of me."
She heard the gargantuan bellow, crashing into the wall of the arena, its cry cut short as the Overlord beheaded it, blood washing dark over the sands of the Arena. Her son sank to his knees, leaning on his axe.
She had to help him. She stared at him, thinking furiously, then swept down the hall and beckoned to a guard, imperious, her heart hammering. She knew Marius, she thought, and he would be far too proud to let it be publicly known that his wife had borne a bastard barbarian son.
The guard trotted over, saluting, darted a nervous glance at the Sentinels.
"Yes, my lady?" he asked. "Do you need something?"
"My husband told me that the Emperor just had a brilliant idea to make things a bit more interesting," she said, relief making her knees weak. "What have we given the yeti to throw this time?"
The guard shrugged.
"Just some big rocks and bits of masonry, ma'am."
"Oh, no, no, no, that simply not will do. Marius wants this barbarian to be utterly annihilated, is that clear? Give the yeti fire-barrels."
"Fire-barrels, ma'am?" he looked uncertain. "Are you sure that's safe?"
"Of course it's not safe, you fool, that's the point!" She snapped, trying to channel Marius. She gave him a haughty look. "Are you questioning my husband, the Voice of the Emperor?"
"No, not at all!" he cried. "I'll get that ready right away, ma'am...although, begging your pardon, I don't think he's going to last that long."
The gates all shrieked opened, and she watched as the Empire threw its might against her son. She sagged back against a Sentinel, grabbing its fragile arm.
"Ma'am?" The soldier was peering at her strangely. "Are you alright?"
"Just do what I asked!" she snapped.
He hurried to obey.
"Help me," she whispered again, drawing on the power of her Sentinels.
The unicorns were rearing, razor horns scything. She touched their minds, felt the surging strength of their dumb animal magic, threw the power of the Sentinels against it. The Sentinels surrounded her, silent, shielding her from prying eyes. One of the unicorns stumbled, startled by her faint brush against its psyche, and the minions were on it in an instant, tearing it apart. She staggered, exhausted, and the Sentinels caught her, holding her upright. All she could do now was watch.
Her son was still standing, ragged, leaking black blood from a myriad of cuts. She remembered, irrationally, the first time she'd seen that blood, how she'd cleaned a scrape on his knee as he stared steadfastly down at her hands, trying not to whimper.
She heard the creak of gears, and the yeti rose into the Arena, blinking its single eye in angry bewilderment. A stack of fire-barrels rested at its feet. Rose caught her breath, hoping her son would be smart enough to realize what to do. He was her son, she thought, trying to reassure herself. He would understand.
She saw him look at the yeti, the barrels, the door behind him. She smiled, standing straighter. He had understood. The yeti hurled a barrel, snarling, and he staggered aside, just barely managing to get out of the way as the door shattered in an explosion of flame behind him. She watched as he and his minions tore into the crowd, the little creatures hurling themselves against the pillars of the Imperial Lodge, tearing it down. She watched Marius and Florian flee, sneering.
Cowards.
Magic crackled through the air, and a portal rose in the center of the Arena. Rose sagged in relief, watched her son stumble to it, the Hive in tow.
He was alive, she thought, hurrying into the depths of the city. Her son was alive...and that changed everything.