"Father!" Lyden was clearly shocked, but he quickly and deliberately regained his composure. "This is a pleasant surprise. I wouldn't have thought you'd be a part of a raiding party." Duke Dontor eyed his son with obvious mistrust. Deanna hated the fact this species was hit and miss as to whether she could read anyone. She longed for his face to change to joy and for him to embrace his son, though she thought that too much to hope for. His eyes burnt into his son as though he were deep in thought – desperate thought.
"We detected a threat to our security barrier. It appears we were correct, though you were the last thing I'd expect to come crawling through. Who are the others?" His eyes glanced through the group. One would never have expected him to be Lyden's father. He was similar in height but stocky and clearly worked out. His hair was smooth and luxurious and his chin square and very masculine. The small garrison of around twelve that accompanied him all trained stick-like weapons directly towards them and appeared unflappable. They wore chain-mail armour and had a crest emblazoned on their chests which was blue and black with a wolf-like creature in the centre with big claws, burning eyes and a greatly exaggerated skeleton.
"As you know you sent me south, I have bought a party back with me. Half of them are southerners and the other half," he paused to try and gauge their response, "are off-worlders." His father just continued to stare at him with pent up anger. Picard and Riker exchanged a look. This was not the story Lyden had discussed a mere two or three minutes ago.
'What is he playing at?' Deanna telepathically asked Tarya.
'I have no idea, we are just going to have to go with this; we're completely out of our element here.'
"Who is who?" Dontor simply asked. Lyden walked the line.
"This is Captain Picard, he is the leader of the off-worlders. This is his mate -" Lyden wasn't quite sure what to call him as he hadn't really met him properly - "Riker... This beautiful dark-haired creature is called Deanna and she counsels and pries into minds and, finally, this striking one with Flame hair is called Beverly, she is what they call a doctor. They are a frail species and aren't very good at healing themselves, they need her to heal them."
"Interesting," stated Dontor. He walked up Beverly and roughly grabbed her jaw, closely inspecting her eyes and touching her hair.
"You will unhand my woman!" Demanded Picard whilst squaring up to Dontor. If Dontor was enraged he didn't show it, he merely stepped back. Picard secretly breathed a sigh of relief and Beverly was trying not to look too blushed, she had not expected that to arose her quite as much as it had.
"I am assuming the others are southerners?" Dontor asked.
"They are, this is Doone, he's a brewer and member of their ruling body."
"Master brewer I'll have you know," Doone added, "At least get it right." Lyden rolled his eyes.
"Master brewer and general gossip monger," Lyden finished. Doone was going to protest, but, hey, it was true. He loved a bit of gossip.
"And finally we have Tarya, she is also a member of the caucus and an original." Dontor walked right up to her.
"You are an original." Tarya wasn't a hundred percent sure of his meaning, but assumed it was akin to their first generation title.
"If you mean am I old, yes." He half smiled at her cheek.
"I think you all need to be strip searched." Lyden smirked at the thought, but he had to try and maintain a semblance of control.
"Father, I need to point out the reason I have bought them to you. They are working together. The off-worlders have great powers and technology. They are able to travel the stars and, as you have seen, break through your barrier; they would not hesitate to destroy our world if they thought it necessary." Picard and Riker exchanged a worried glance. What game were they being used as pawns in, though right now thought Riker, if it got them out of a strip-search, he could go with it - for now. It was Dontor's turn to square up to Picard.
"Why are you here? If it was merely destruction, you could have done that already – no?"
"Indeed, technically speaking, we could have done that already, however, our people are peaceful, we explore different worlds looking to make friends." Dontor laughed.
"Friends? Why?"
"It is what our species love doing, exploring and meeting new people, in a way it's a huge drive for us, without the need to learn more about things and people, we would not have progressed to where we are today." That didn't overly impress Dontor, he moved on and squared up to Tarya.
"And you, why would you be here?" Luckily she was used to thinking on her feet.
"We made first contact with this species. We too have been off-world and have technologies that allow exploration. If we are going to make any alliances or pacts with folk off-world, as you call them, we thought it only fair to involve you. You are after all a huge part of what makes our orb." Now his anger grew and he pushed her back.
"You southerners, you honestly think I will believe that, that you come to us with talk of making a pact or a deal after shunning us for millennia?" Tarya's eyes began to shine a bright blue, her hands began to tingle and she pushed him back in line with his men, growing stronger by the second.
"They can destroy our orb in the blink of an eye and be of no doubt, I can destroy all of you right here, right now. If we want to we can obliterate you off the face of this orb, rebuild the land you have destroyed, heck, we may even liberate your people. Be under no illusion that we do not come here lightly." There was momentary flash of fear in his eye and all the soldiers clearly looked bemused, had they never seen this before.
"Alright, let's see how sincere you are. You will all follow me." Dontor finally said. Tarya began to slowly power down and Dontor led the way with a few of his guards, the remainder bringing up the rear.
"You know," whispered Doone to Tarya as they followed, "maybe we should just kill them all."
"Don't tempt me," she replied. They followed Picard and Crusher who were holding hands, in front, Riker and Deanna were doing the same. They couldn't quite hear the whispering going on between Picard and Crusher, but it was clear from their body language they were uncharacteristically flirting with one another.
After walking over the sand dunes they came to a stairwell that simply led below ground, this must have been how they suddenly arrived near their location from nowhere. Dontor led them in. They continued to walk though a barren, dugout tunnel. The deeper they went, the colder it became. The air was now bitter and growls began to abound. Dontor drew them to a halt, closed his eyes and the growing growls ceased. He beckoned them to continue.
As they continued walking, every hundred yards or so sat a wolf, not unlike the one depicted on Dontor's crest. Their eyes were white and pupils pin-pricked. Saliva drooled from their mouths and they bared their teeth as they walked past. They were nothing like the creatures they'd seen in the south. They eventually stopped at the end of the long tunnel. Only a natural rock face greeted them. Lyden was tense, more so than he'd ever been before. At least when he was under the servitude of Aygor he'd generally known what to expect, his father said nothing to him. He hadn't quite realised how such lengthy silences could be so unnerving. The Duke looked as though he was waiting for something, and the guards were expectant.
Duke Dontor lit a lantern and held it up to the wall. His eyes began to faintly glow purple, Tarya noted that he did have some level of ability to control his equanime, then she remembered that Lyden had said the ruling body retained their equanime and were not drained as the rest of society were, though she still wasn't quite sure how this worked.
As the Dukes eyes continued to shine, the colour of the lantern's flame turned dark purple and it began to smoulder. Doone had a very bad feeling as he watched the smoke osmose through the wall, whilst Tarya and Guss had a lot of experience with sorcery, he was out of his element.
The layer of rock that blocked the way slowly began to merge with the smoke. Eventually, two glowing white eyes could be seen approaching from the other side. As the smoke continued to fade, a creature slowly appeared. It was walking towards them on a carpet of mist that remained. Lyden deduced it could have been a descendent of Salbator, one of their great beasts. Its size was that of a small man, but it was hunched and very gnarled with thinning hair, and its clothes were threadbare and tattered. It didn't appear to have wings though, and it was carrying a lantern similar to the one Dontor held.
The wall had completely disappeared now. Still no-one said anything. Dontor began to walk and they all followed. Lyden again looked to the guide. On his back were two stumps where wings may have once hung. His trouble deepened.
It wasn't long before they were walking along a cobbled road, though still below ground. Street lamps provided an ample amount of light and were somehow burning brightly. Dug into the walls on either side of the now very wide tunnel were town houses and quaint shops. They'd past a cobbler's, a haberdashery and now one curiously called Overworld. As Tarya looked through one of the large leaded, bay windows, she could see jars of honey and cheese on display and presumed it sold goods produced above ground. She'd never seen anything like this before and briefly wondered if anyone still lived here. As she peered through more windows, it quickly became evident this was unlikely. Mugs with remnants of liquid stood stagnant in some and, in others, tables had long been laid ready for supper, though any food had long since disintegrated. This town was clearly uninhabited. She wondered what type of atrocity must have sent the occupants fleeing, if indeed they'd managed to escape at all. She noticed an old piece of parchment lying in the gutter, slowed her walk and quickly whisked it up on her way past. It appeared to be the end of an old notice or letter. She could just make out the words: '…rise up now, a new day must dawn. Call our men to arms. Sunrise is nearly upon us.' The letter was marked with a seal. On the seal was an ornate letter M and spiralling the M were thorns dripping in blood. She quickly placed the parchment into her pocket.
Picards stomach churned when he saw impact craters of what had clearly been blasts in some of the walls and smaller slices in some of the wood and stone that had clearly been made by swords or large knives of some description. It had taken him a moment to realise Duke Dontor had started speaking.
"Before we pass through the next boarder, let me remind you of a few things. We are amongst the Counted. I say we, at the moment you are merely by default and OUR discretion. Rest assured though, it's far easier to lose your right to be Counted than it is to gain it. Hard work and discipline are necessary traits, but loyalty and obedience are of utmost importance."
"We understand Dontor and thank you." Lyden looked at Picard with suspicion and wondered if he truly meant what he just said or was just currying favour.
"Do you? We'll see about that. We are about to pass through the below-world city of Abeldon. Be on your guard, the Orpo can be very reactive, though they are far tamer than they used to be. Whilst we now expect discipline without question, on occasion, there's still a need to instil it."
"The Orpo?" Riker asked.
"They are our common folk, the workers, the slaves, the prostitutes," He glanced from Riker to Deanna as he emphasised that last profession. Dontor re-lit his lantern.
In front of them, a thick, reinforced iron door appeared in the rock face at the end of the street. This time, an equanime glow surrounded the post of the door which slowly began to fade.
"I take it they aren't a fan of handle's either?" Whispered Doone to Tarya. "Or is it perhaps just a thing we do – are we odd?" She smirked and elbowed him whilst ushering him to be quiet.
Appearing as the door vanished, were several men in armour sitting and polishing weapons. The moment the soldiers were aware of their presence, they stood to attention before bowing.
"Rise!" They instantly followed Dontor's instruction. "Where's your head Johta?"
"I'll fetch him sir." The guard who spoke instantly left. All of the guards wore armour and had robes on, not unlike the robes the Duke wore, but they were grey and made of very plain chainmail. None had crests.
Picard guessed they were in an armoury, a gigantic one. He'd never seen so many weapons in one place before. The majority of those nearby he recognised; there were swords, knives, whips, maces and halberds in plentiful, but some he did not recognise. Rows of heavy looking, metallic guns sat on a rack on the far wall, but he couldn't figure what they did from just looking. He did now know what the jars on the shelf above housed though. They were full of talemuir. A large iron vat in the corner was filled with a purple liquid and more of the creatures squirmed within. It wasn't long before the head Johta arrived. The only difference between his armour and that of his men's was the black cross in the middle of his robe.
"Duke Dontor; I must apologise, we'd not been informed you were visiting."
"It's alright Tolen, we are merely passing through. No word had been sent. Please assemble an escort. We are heading to Vearden."
"Of course, though I assure you, you'll not encounter any trouble here sir. Not any more... I'll gather my best men." He looked to two of his men. "Talus, Rob that includes you." Two of the guards instantly stood to attention and moved to the Dukes side as Tolen left. Still no-one said anything..
It wasn't long before Tolen returned with another six guards and Tolen led the way out proceeding with military precision through a long row of empty cells before reaching the vestibule. The building was extremely industrial and very bland. Riker wondered what on earth they were entering that required a total of twenty-one guards.
Upon leaving the building, they entered the main street of what they called Abeldon. At first, it was not unlike the previous below-world street they'd passed through, only far wider. Similar shops lined the street and a huge, tavern-like building was dug into the far side, though that too lacked a warm or homely appearance. A thin river, not un-like a large gutter, was also flowing through the middle of the street.
As they passed the tavern-like building, Beverly clocked there were a lot of women inside. They were scantily dressed and clearly preparing for the evening and nights activities. This could well have been the main hub of the city, but there was no-one else in sight.
"Does that please you?" It had been so long since Dontor had spoken directly to Lyden, it took him a little by surprise.
"Does what please me Father?"
"The nighthouse."
"If I'm honest, no." Dontor did not seem impressed.
"What is a nighthouse?" Queried Beverly, it was not as though she hadn't already guessed, but it seemed a good an opportunity to learn something more about these people.
"There is only one in each of the Orpo cities. Here, they mainly serve the Johta and supervisors. Orpo can attend, but only as a reward for exceptional work and service. Every full moon the previous months best workers are given the ability to attend the nighthouse during the following month. We don't only use threats to incentivise. There are several nighthouses in each of the Counted cities too. They are the social hubs of our society."
"What is it you do for entertainment there?" Deanna added, also just attempting to learn more.
"Whatever you want – within reason. You can drink and eat to your hearts content, gamble, find a woman for the night, participate in a duel or fight, join in any number of games and contests. You really are only limited by your imagination."
"That sounds… interesting. Are the women Counted or Orpo?" Beverly wondered.
"Here they are most certainly Orpo. Over-world they are mainly Orpo too, but some Johta can choose to serve in such establishments."
"Are women not welcome as guests in these establishments then?" All of the guards instantly looked to Deanna, clearly shocked and either amused, offended or perplexed. It was clear they'd been uncomfortable with the two women asking questions anyway, this was clearly a step too far.
"What? Why would we want women there?" Dontor too was amused by this, but his demeanour changed and he added with some venom, addressing Deanna specifically, "they serve us and are useful in that capacity, but why would you want to mingle socially with a woman?" He softened and turned his attention to his son, leaving Deanna quite unnerved as Riker protectively placed his arm around her.
"Lyden, it appears women had joined the southern men in battle. How does it work in the south then?" Lyden was unsure of what to say, but decided it best to be honest where possible. He certainly didn't want to trip himself up later, he was so slow in responding though, that Tarya did the honour instead, walking up to Dontor directly, clearly irritated with the man.
"Males and females do the same things and go to the same places. In fact, we have little in the way of a hierarchy and governing body compared to you, and it is often I who makes the final decision." Deanna was impressed, this was definitely not like the Tarya she was getting to know, who was more often than not overly humble, but it was becoming clear that when she needed too, she could exert any level of authority she wished. The guards whispered amongst themselves and Dontor simply walked off. Lyden was unsure if this was a good sign or not, but Dontor turned around to throw a remark at him.
"Females are our inferiors! Never forget that son! Don't get me wrong, they're very useful for keeping a house and tending to the nurturing needs of a family, but that is all. Woe betides a woman that disgraces herself or her family. Don't worry; we'll soon re-align your thinking. A man needs to contain his woman. That is the way it has to be, regardless of status." He made sure to make contact with Tarya before he continued them on their way. After walking for a while, Picard decided to try again.
"I'm guessing Counted women remain at home to look after their families then. Do Orpo women do the same?" Wondered Picard.
"In effect it's the same throughout, but if an Orpo woman does not have small children to care for she can work, but only as a nightwoman in the nighthouse, or on a farm, or in a shop front. The Orpo men see to manufacturing, building and generally anything involving heavy labour and any form of design or decision making. Not that they have many decisions to make."
"Do Counted women work if they have no small children to tend to then?" Spurted out Deanna.
"Of course not, the Orpo and Johta women serve all our needs, as do the men. The Counted women need to tend to husband and home… A Counted woman is beautiful and stands above the rest. A man is seen as well regarded if he manages to find a beautiful and respectful woman. Of course women also seek to be married to a highly respected Counted man."
"Why?" Doone couldn't quite grasp the logic, this was completely alien to him. He looked around. The Johta soldiers were trying to hide their shock or not laugh. They'd not heard anyone speak in such a candid way to a member of The Counted before, let alone a member of the Higher Counted. Duke Dontor was fuming, but Lyden quickly intervened.
"Why would you not want to be married to one such as Duke Dontor Doone?"
"I guess I just can't see it from a woman's perspective, " added Doone, hoping not to inflame things further.
"What if they have no husband then - if the husband died in battle say?" Pondered Deanna, Riker squeezed her shoulder, his imzadi connection warning her that maybe they should stop pushing him. Dontor sighed as though he was reminding himself of something, possibly who they were.
"They'd have one of two options. A woman has no rights of her own. If she were Counted, she would lose her counted title and be placed in a working home."
"A working home?" Asked Beverly.
"There are a few in this city. It's where the older women who've no family end up. Don't worry though; there are men there to keep them in line – the Johta overseers. These women keep house and usually work as our seamstress'."
"What of the other option?" Remembered Deanna.
"If the woman is of exceptional beauty or quality, she may be desired by another, though this is rarer." They all thought it best to keep quiet now. They really didn't want to know anymore right now and didn't want to risk accidently causing further offence. Doone was desperately beginning to miss the south.
They'd walked the entire length of the street and had still not seen anyone - other than in the nighthouse. It was only when they neared the end that Lyden realised where the hum that had been resonating since they'd arrived stemmed from. The distinctive sounds of clanging metal and whirring machinery now filled the air.
Flowing through the middle of this new street was a bigger, artificial river, and lining the sides were gigantic workshops and factories. They were huge, Lyden could only imagine what craftsmanship and skill it had taken to build these impressive structures and to fortify the rock and land they were dug into.
There was still no-one to be seen on the streets, but the fronts of the factories were open. It was as though the buildings had been sliced in half. To the right was a massive, iron workshop. The workers seemed to be breaking down crude slabs, adding various elements and creating manageable chunks. They were then being carted across the road by small burdensome beasts. They were not unlike small smokeys, but far bulkier in muscle and build and they didn't have antlers that he could see. He felt a bit sorry for them, their hair was scraggy and they were not well groomed, though they did appear well fed. He tried to imagine what the great beast of their line had looked like – if they'd ever had one.
On the opposite side of the street, men were working the iron. They appeared to be mainly making weaponry, but it was clear they were also making a few larger, structural components as well. He wondered how they transported such things to and from the surface.
As they approached the end of the street, Picard noticed several smaller streets branching off. They looked to be residential. They eventually turned down one and Dontor dismissed the guards before they entered a small dwelling. From the outside it looked the same as any other, a façade of a small cottage-like dwelling with one window and door. Through the windows one could just make out the cave-like, often multi-roomed residence, but when they entered this one, he guessed it was unique. Behind the street door was a large, very dark room. Its ceiling was not visible and the tiny amounts of light were generated by small wall lanterns. The rock walls also appeared completely natural. There were no attempts to make it homely. They walked for a while along a wide corridor before it opened into a cavernous room. In the centre was a platform, approximately ten yards square and definable from the rest of the floor by a fluorescent purple glow. When he looked up he could see the sky, though it was far in the distance.
They walked onto the platform and the Duke placed his palm on a reader in the centre. It looked to take a sample of blood after it had read his palm. After it had analysed the results, all four of the platform sides rose to create a barrier and it began to rise. Riker likened this to a mine shaft. He wondered if it was sorcery that powered this platform and to what extent they used it. It was clear they used equanime heavily in their machinery. He wondered how they acquired such a plentiful and seemingly sustainable supply, then he remembered the draining.
It took a while to reach the top, but when they did, they were all pleased to feel a fresh wind. The sky was blue and it was a fairly pleasant day. However, the pleasing feeling diminished when they scanned the vicinity. The grass was patchy and sparse and very little colour could be seen. The mountains in the distance looked cold and bleak, and nature's sound was barely audible. Ahead of them was the entrance to a walled city. The stone walls were at least ten feet thick and thirty feet high. Guards were posted on two towers set into the walls on either side of a large gatehouse.
Upon arriving at the gatehouse, Dontor pricked his finger and dripped a drop of both blood followed by equanime onto a scanning device.
"Is this the only way in? Blood and equanime analysis?" All of their eyes turned to Doone.
"That is not a word we use here. Make no more mention of it."
"What? Blood or Equanime?" Dontor turned and looked as though he was considering striking him, he gritted his teeth. It was painfully obvious Dontor was not used to this level of questioning, both in general and of his authority.
"The latter. To our people it is a poison that runs through their veins. When born, our children's pores get sewn. Once a full moon, all of our citizens gather to have some of their poison drained. If they don't arrive for the Garner they become ill."
"But yours seems to be working?" Tarya couldn't help herself.
"The members of the Higher Counted have surpassed our weaknesses and know how to control it. The rest are not as enlightened. We will speak no more on this matter."
"Oh, you've learnt to control yourself," she was seething and her sarcasm was obvious, but knew she needed to keep her cool. "How do normal folk enter and leave the town then?" She said, hoping to quickly distract him. It appeared to work.
"The answer to your question is very rarely. Free travel is not permitted on our land. You need to request permission to enter or leave a town, and we grant permission only when it's deemed appropriate. The guards enable entry and exit for authorised citizens. It would be far too chaotic if folk were allowed to travel freely." Tarya felt suffocated at the thought. The doors had now fully opened and they all looked to what they felt was their new gaol.
However, the city of Vearden was of complete contrast to the below-world one they'd just been in. The streets were vibrant and folk, for the most part, seemed content and very active. Peddlers were on street corners selling small, caged animals and wares. They also had many shops in the courtyard and, of course, a nighthouse. The shops continued to wind through the streets which led to a castle that stood high above. These streets appeared to contain a mixture of dwellings and shops. Lyden felt slightly more relaxed here, it had been his home for millennia. Those they walked passed gave a nod of appreciation and all seemed content in one another's company, though Deanna wondered how deeply the contentment truly ran. For the most part she could sense many emotions, stilted emotions, much pain, fear and jealousy. A lot of jealousy, though it was hard to tell who was feeling what. You'd never have known from their practised faces and social graces.
She quickly noted how the women addressed the men. It appeared they did make eye contact, but none of them spoke, merely gave a small nod of acknowledgment. She wondered if she'd be able to speak to one of them, or if it would be deemed totally unacceptable. She guessed it would be the latter, but now was certainly not the time to find out.
Aside from the laden beasts and creatures they'd seen below-world, the small animals and woodland creatures in cages were the only others they'd seen. A few of the folk also appeared to be with their small animals in the street. Some were walking terrifying looking dogs; others cats, lizards-type creatures and rabbits. One even had a bird attached to a string as though it were a kite. Doone wondered why they kept their creatures in such a way. He pondered whether or not, at one stage, they'd turned against the humanoids and the humanoids had needed to gain control. If that were the case, looking at their land, he really wouldn't have blamed the poor creatures. It also occurred to him that, if the population's equanime flow was hindered, communication with animals would have long ceased, regardless of generation.
Lyden wasn't as pleased when he passed the uncomforting familiarity of home. The gallows here were still standing, though far smaller than the one Aygor had erected. The design, however, was identical. The tension in the streets grew the nearer they got to the castle.