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2.42 In Which the Dark Lord Gives Peace a Chance
🕑 Added 2022-02-10 22:16:35 +0000 UTCI was right: dragging a body by the ankle over rough terrain was just about the most needlessly difficult thing a person could do.
We’d only just emerged onto the main road before a gwynnek came dashing up from the fortress, fast enough it had nearly reached us before I identified Newneh with Nazralind sitting astride her.
“Oh, Goddess be thanked,” the elf gasped as they came to a halt. “I mean, ah, no offense…”
“I’m not really devout,” I said. “Situation?”
“Handled.” She nudged her mount around to face back toward the fortress, falling into step alongside us. “They surrendered. It seems most of the cats survived. We have them disarmed and under guard.”
“Good,” I grunted. “Good work. Gotta deal with that, and then…go help wherever we can. It’s going to be bad out there.”
Nazralind nodded, then looked pointedly down at my burden. “Do you need help with that, Lord Seiji?”
“I have it.”
“That looks rather… I mean, I can walk and put her over Newneh’s saddle. It’s no trouble.”
Newneh lowered her head and made a croak I could only interpret as disagreement.
“You know how, when someone important or beloved dies, there’s a big funeral? Lots of crowds, all sad and solemn. Possibly a procession, then a long vigil. All care and respect paid to the departed, that whole thing?”
She looked at me askance. “Yes…?”
“This is the exact opposite of that.”
Nazralind glanced down again just as Lady Gray’s corpse bumped as I dragged it through the burned-out husk of a fallen red vine, limbs trailing awkwardly through the soot. Then she just shrugged.
“All right then. Makes sense.”
We were met halfway back by an honor guard of men and women with crossbows and another of Nazralind’s ladies mounted on a gwynnek. Truthfully, I paid them little attention, focused as I was on the gate. A full contingent of my people stood there, aiming weapons in every direction into the forest, with Minifrit in their center. For once she hadn’t brought her pipe.
“The injured are receiving treatment,” she reported as we drew close, before I had the chance to ask. “Arrow wounds seem to respond well to healing slimes, provided they are not immediately fatal. That is ongoing; I will notify you if anyone requires further healing, Lord Seiji. We have sequestered the dead, of both factions.”
“Thank you.” I nodded, and dropped Gray’s leg. My arm was really starting to hurt by that point. “Secure this someplace crawn-proof, please. I’ll need it later.”
Minifrit gave the body a disdainful look, then stepped closer to me and lowered her voice for discretion’s sake. “I realize you enjoy being enigmatic, my lord, but in this case it would help to know your intentions. Preserving an entire body under these conditions will be…challenging. Do you simply mean to collect the several bounties on her?”
I nodded again. “That, and I’ll need her for my plan to reach a settlement with Highlord Caldimer.”
“And will that plan require the entire corpse, or simply positive identification?”
I considered that for a moment. “The latter should suffice, I think.”
“In that case, we only need the head,” she nodded. “That can easily be preserved in a glass jar of akhor brine. That’s the usual way.”
The fucking usual way. Of course the Fflyr had worked out the best practices for displaying people’s severed heads.
I wearily quashed my instinctive reaction. It was long past the point when I had any right to condemn anyone else’s violent ways.
“That sounds perfect, then. Throw the rest into the forest for the scavengers.”
“I will see it done, Lord Seiji.”
We stepped through the gates, leaving Gray’s body on the ground to be watched over by my guards. It seemed most of the population of North Watch had come out by now, though I was glad not to see any of the Rats or other children. Keeping them away from a spectacle like this must have taken some doing, but I was grateful somebody had managed it. A sizable knot of cat people were huddled together, disarmed and covered by enough crossbows to kill all of them twice. Separated them by the line of their guards was a row of catfolk bodies, neatly laid out on the ground.
Across the courtyard from them was another row of still figures. I felt my chest tighten at the length of it.
“We have treated the injured,” Minifrit said in a clipped tone, “as is the standard practice toward prisoners of war. Even so, I might have been disinclined to squander valuable medical supplies on these,but it costs us nothing to apply healing slimes. Simply leaving them to bleed seemed pointlessly cruel.”
I nodded again, silent, and she remained behind as I stepped over to the row of bodies.
They had been laid out in what I now recognized as Fflyr funerary custom, with strips of fabric over the eyes, weighted down on both sides of the head. Apparently there were none of the little ceremonial statues handy, so coins had been used instead.
Kastrin was at one end of the row. Someone had laid her crossbow beside her, and placed her stinger in her right hand.
Images flashed across my mind, nearly as vivid as one of those trauma flashbacks and only slightly less intrusive. The first time I’d seen her, beaten half to death and as suspicious of the Healer as she was grateful. The night her face had twisted in rage and vindication as she snatched the ax from my hand and felled her abuser. Her cheerful smirk when she suggested “slimes and whores” as the slogan of the Dark Crusade. A hundred repetitions of that satisfied little wrinkle of her nose every time she pulled off a difficult shot on the first try. My perfect little bloodthirsty cinnamon roll. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen.
And next to her—
Sakin.
I stared at the ragged wound in his throat, uncomprehending. No, this… What? This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. I could barely make sense of it. He was this nigh-mythic enigma full of impossible skills and knowledge. I was going to gradually unravel it, piece by piece, slowly working out just who he really was, why he knew what he did, what the hell he was doing out here in the forest with us. Whether he would turn on me or remain loyal to the last. All of that couldn’t just end. Not like this, to some random, stupid arrow out of the dark in a chaotic night raid by a bunch of savages. It was…
Ridiculous. It was just silly.
…Sakin would have thought it was hilarious. In fact, in his last moments, he probably had.
I continued, pacing slowly down the row while everyone watched me in dead silence. Looking at each face. Thirteen of my people dead, in total. Cat Alley girls, bandits, one of the brothel bouncers from Gannit’s old place. I didn’t even know all of their names. To my bottomless relief, there were no children and none of the handful of housewives and non-combat family members we’d picked up. To my everlasting self-loathing, I was also relieved that none of the other fallen were strategically important.
I’d lost my best sniper and one of my most important advisors. All the rest were…
Replaceable.
God, I hated myself sometimes.
“What’s the final tally?” I asked aloud, turning back to face Minifrit.
“Eleven of the catfolk are dead,” she replied, tilting her forehead momentarily toward the separate row of their fallen.
“Twelve,” I corrected. “One tried to ambush us as the fire was dying down. The dark elf got him.”
Someone from the knot of two dozen or so surviving catfolk made a soft noise. It might have been a whimper or a sob. Understandable, considering they’d just learned one of their own who they must have been hoping had got away was dead. Unfortunately, it was also the worst thing any of them could have done at that moment.
The rage bubbled up as if from the ground at my feet, coursing through my veins, and I opened myself to it, letting it banish the guilt and exhaustion. I thrummed with seething fury, and yet remained outwardly cold. It was an almost Zen state, in a perverse way. Countless times on stage I had kept playing to perfection, absorbing the furor of a crowd that was truly rocking out and riding that euphoria, channeling it into precision and fine control. Now I rode the sheer bloodlust to the same effect. Calm and composed, not in spite of the fact that I wanted to foam at the mouth and gouge out someone’s eyes with my own two thumbs, but because of it.
Because it was showtime.
“So,” I mused, pacing toward them in slow, deliberate steps. “Thirteen to twelve. Seems…unfair.”
All around us, everyone seemed to be holding their breath.
It was my first time seeing cat people up close, and Sakin’s description was basically spot on. They were more or less human-shaped, except for the feline heads and the digitigrade lower legs ending in big paws. Also they had tails and claws on their fingertips, and were covered in a layer of sleek fur. All of these seemed to have black fur, many with subtle brown and gray markings; a few had bits of white thrown in as well. I didn’t know if all catfolk were colored that way, or just this tribe.
Obviously I had seen furry art back on Earth, but seeing the real thing in person really emphasized just how like nekomimi these were very much not. The cartoon illustrations do a lot to humanize the faces, especially the eyes. Seeing furry people with animal heads in person gave a straight up uncanny valley effect. I wouldn’t have believed any possible interbreeding took place, if I hadn’t met Sato. And if I didn’t know what people were like.
I stopped a few steps from the crowd of prisoners, who were huddled together and watching me in obvious fear. Their facial expressions were a bit hard to read, but the way their ears lay down flat above wide eyes gave away the game. Junko padded up alongside me and growled softly.
I held out my hand to the side. Without me needing to say anything, Ydleth stepped forward and placed the butt of a crossbow in it.
“Who’s in charge here?” I asked in a deliberately pleasant tone.
There was a muted shuffling among them.
“You are,” a female in the front row said after a moment of silence.
I smiled, a gentle expression that went nowhere near my eyes and made her duck her head apprehensively.
“Good answer,” I said, still polite and calm. “I meant, however, who leads your group?”
Another short silence fell, until finally a male next to the woman who’d spoken raised his head. His ears came upright and forward, and I had the distinct impression he’d had to force them to do so.
“I can speak for the tribe,” he said, raising his head further and belatedly remembering to project bravado.
“Good.” I rested the crossbow in both hands; it was already loaded and fully cocked, ready to fire. “Now. Who would you say is the most useless among your people? The most…expendable?”
His eyes widened, the pupils narrowed to frightened slits. “I don’t… What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean,” I said in deadly quiet.
“I…you can’t…”
Slowly, I raised my eyebrows, and spoke in a whisper. “What did you just say to me?”
The cat man’s breath caught in his throat. His wrists were bound behind him, as all of theirs were, but he jerked his head to the side at the female who’d spoken previously. “Jessak is the least—”
“Touhah, you faithless slime,”she hissed, baring fangs at him.
Both fell silent as I leveled the crossbow.
“It was a trick question,” I said coolly. “And that was the wrong answer. A leader does not throw away his people to save his own miserable hide.”
Touhah’s eyes widened further. “Wait, no, I can—”
A fully primed crossbow makes an unbelievable mess at that range. The bolt didn’t just penetrate his head, it caved his entire face in, splattering Jessak and everyone behind him with blood. A short tussle ensued as several of them cried out in horror and then squirmed as his body toppled backward into the next rank. They fell still almost immediately, mindful of the dozen other such weapons still aimed into the group, though at least two now were weeping quietly.
“There,” I said cheerfully. “Squaresies.”
I took one step back and held out the unloaded crossbow to the side; it was immediately taken from my hand.
“So! Jessak, was it?” I put my pleasant smile back on, thrilling inwardly at the visible terror it caused. The rage inside me wanted to kill more, to kill them all. I let it flow through me, riding the wave but not yielding to its control. Instead, I just shrugged, gesturing around at the courtyard. “The hell, man? I thought we were neighbors.”
She cowered, staring up at me in apprehension.
I abruptly dropped the smile. “Are you under the impression that we’re on a date? Just making small talk? I require answers, Jessak. You will provide them. I promise you’ll like the outcome better if you provide them swiftly.”
“I—we—” Jessak had to pause and swallow heavily. “I…am not a shaman or raid leader.”
“Aww,” I cooed. “Just following orders, is that it?”
Finally, she straightened up a bit, a hint of anger peeking through the fear. “Authority is not given to me to speak for my tribe. But I will not disavow any action I’ve taken. Everything I’ve done has been for my people.”
I stared down at Touhah’s still-dripping corpse, then over at the row of other dead cats, and finally back at her.
“Good job.”
Her face contorted in such visible anger I could interpret it easily despite its weird shape. That was more like it; angry people, I’ve found, tend to be more responsive than scared ones. It was sickening that that was a thing I had to know, but here we were.
“Why did you attack us?” I demanded, my voice suddenly curt.
“You broke the agreement,” she retorted. “Your group lived here in peace, on our lands, in exchange for tribute. Then the tribute stopped coming!”
“Notice what else you don’t see?” I replied, gesturing around. “Rocco. The guy your agreement was with. He’s gone, and that left us with no connection to you. I was told about it, but nobody but him seemed to know the terms, or how to get tribute to you, or how to talk with you at all. I figured when it didn’t show up, somebody would come to ask and we could settle that. All you had to do was ask. But nobody ever came. And now, you do this?” I clicked my tongue, shaking my head ruefully. “Not very neighborly, Jessak.”
Her ears had lowered again, but she rallied, straightening her spine. She had more of that than Touhah, at least.
“Well, then you started rapidly growing numbers, bringing in weapons and supplies… We’d have been crazy to approach you while you were gearing up to attack us!”
“Attack you? What do you have that you imagine I would want? We do just fine without you.”
“And…and then there were those fake totems! Who did you think that would fool?”
“I have absolutely no idea how to make a Shylver totem. There’s a dark elf skulking about who put those up. They seem to think they were helping us, but they haven’t bothered to introduce themselves, and frankly I’m losing patience with their antics. You see what it’s led to.”
She fell silent, mouth hanging slightly open and her eyes darting as she quested for something to say.
“Tell me about Lady Gray,” I said. “How is she involved in this?”
“The woman? That…Fflyr Blessed?” Jessak folded her ears back again. “She spoke with the chief and the elders and shamans. I’m not important enough to have been part of that, but I know what they told us after. She said that you were Blessed with Wisdom, told us how to arrange our hunters to strike before your familiar could give enough warning. That’s all they explained to us. I don’t know how she persuaded them that attacking was the right thing. The tribe has been arguing about that for months. Just… After she talked to our leaders, this was their order.”
“I’m afraid she lied to you,” I said. Holding up one hand, I conjured a Firelight over it, casting an orange glow which flickered in the eyes of the cats. “Don’t feel excessively put upon; Gray was an authentically vile excuse for a person. She lied to everybody, and much worse. She sent you here to die. I am Blessed with Wisdom, yes. And with Might, and with Magic.”
“No,” Jessak whispered, eyes going wide. “That…you…no.”
“I can appreciate your position,” I said more quietly, letting the spell flicker out. “Really, I can. It is not…wholly unreasonable. Perhaps I should have made more of an effort to reach out sooner. In the end… All of this has been a tragic misunderstanding. Unfortunately, now you’ve gone and attacked my home. Killed my people. You see why I can’t just let that lie.”
Slowly, Jessak’s feline face crumpled from an expression of shock and terror, scowling up at me.
“Are we not…squaresies, after all? Fine.” She shifted against her bonds, straightening her spine fully to stare me in the eye. “I will take whatever punishment you demand, human. Everything you were going to do to all of my tribe. Do it all to me. I accept blame. If you planned to kill them, I ask that you choose a punishment worse than death and let me bear as many as you require.”
Several of her comrades hissed at her, objecting in hushed voices, though I did note with dark amusement that nobody else volunteered themselves.
“Oh? Did you not just tell me, repeatedly, that you weren’t part of the planning of this and have no authority?”
She bared her fangs at me momentarily before getting herself back under control. “I am offering myself to take all blame! If you truly see how all of this has been a sequence of errors, I beg you to let me do this!”
Okay, I liked Jessak.
Again I looked down at…what was his name? Oh, well. Then, just as pointedly, over at the other fallen cat folk.
“I believe we’ve settled what needs to be settled,” I said after a terribly loaded pause. “Your weapons and anything else confiscated from you are forfeit. Blood has answered blood, and I deem the scales balanced. You will be released, and may take your dead to give them whatever rites are fitting. Tell your leaders what has happened here, and let this show them that the Dark Lord is merciful.”
I paused for one beat, then leaned forward till I was looming directly over Jessak.
“Up to a point.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but I gently tapped my forefinger against the tip of her nose.
“Be sure to inform them, Jessak, that this is the last time. You have one allotment of forbearance from me, and your tribe has now used all of it. If I have any further trouble from your people—so much as a rudely worded greeting should we happen to meet in the forest—you will know nothing but the full wrath of the Dark Crusade. I will descend on your measly village like a living plague and scour it from the face of creation. Everything you value will be smashed and burned as refuse, and every last drop of your people’s blood spilled to water the khora. You will die festooned with the entrails of your loved ones like holiday decorations, you will watch your elderly roasted on spits, and I WILL CARPET MY FORTRESS IN YOUR MANGY PELTS.”
My voice steadily rose as I spoke until, at the end, I was screaming so violently into her face that my throat burned and spittle decorated her features along with her tribemate’s blood. Jessak’s eyes had gone wide as saucers with pupils contracted to slits, her ears plastered flat against her skull in an expression of abject terror. Clearly she took my words exactly literally. Good; in that moment, that was how I’d meant them.
I hadn’t even consciously registered it happening, but my hand had shifted from a finger on her nose to a full-on death grip over the entire upper half of her muzzle, with my thumb over the nose and the rest actually inside her mouth, which she’d never closed after I interrupted whatever she’d been about to say. In fact, I was clutching it so hard that her fangs had penetrated my palm at multiple points. I was bleeding right into her mouth. Strange, I didn’t even feel the pain.
There was a truly disgusting sucking noise as I pulled my hand off her teeth and drew it back.
Heal.
Pink light snapped along my arm like lightning, flaring brightly against the small but deep wounds as they closed. Odd; I’d never known it to do that before. Normally the flash covered the whole body, healing indiscriminately.
“Or.”
My voice, again, was calm. Perfectly cordial, my expression relaxed. Slowly, I straightened back up, put on an amiable smile, and spread my arms in a shrug.
“We can go back to being neighbors. Staying out of each other’s business—and perhaps, when times are hard, lending a hand, as neighbors do. That sure sounds like the better option to me. What do you think?”
Jessak’s mouth was still hanging open, dripping blood, she started to close it, grimaced in disgust, and then nodded mutely. I realized she probably really wanted to spit but didn’t dare to do that in front of me right now.
Smart kitty.
“I’m so glad we could settle this like reasonable people.” I turned my back and stepped away, folding my hands behind me. “Release them. Gently, provided they behave. If anyone struggles, kill them all.”
I was obeyed.
Cutting that many people free was a process that took some time, especially since they were mostly too frightened to move. I stood exactly where I was, moving no more than a statue and seemingly ignoring the sounds behind me as, over the next several minutes, the catfolk were released and allowed to gather up their fallen comrades. Only when I heard them begin to shuffle out the gates did I suddenly turn.
“Oh! And Jessak.”
She wasn’t the only one who flinched; the whole group came to an immediate stop, even those carrying bodies. Jessak hunched her shoulders for a second and started to turn, but that was all the time it took for me to suddenly glide across the distance between us, long strides of my Surestep Boots almost silent. The catwoman flinched again when she only managed half a turn before I was suddenly leaning an elbow on her shoulder.
I’d used this exact maneuver on Kasser once before; it was a memory I was ashamed of, now. Back then, that had just been me bullying a subordinate who had entirely reasonably complaints. My theatrical talents were much better used cowing defeated enemies into compliance.
“I realize all this was kicked off by a little uncertainty over territorial rights,” I said casually, brushing my fingernails against her fur. “Just so we don’t have a repeat of this incident, let me just settle that matter right now.”
I leaned more heavily on her, bringing my mouth closer to her ear, and lowered the pitch of my voice without altering its volume.
“You are living on my land. Is that clear?”
Jessak nodded once. “I understand, Dark Lord.”
“In fact,” I mused, “you’ll find me a more amiable landlord than you ever were. You officially have my permission to hunt and gather to whatever extent you require, wherever I have control. And my territory has expanded considerably beyond your old borders. Feel free to follow my scouts and see for yourselves where they go, so long as you don’t interfere with them. My people have first rights to hunt, but consider yourselves welcome wherever I hold sway. Contingent upon your good behavior.”
Pause for a beat, and finish ever so casually…
“If I get one report of you messing with my operations or speaking with my enemies, every last one of you will die screaming. Clear?”
“I understand, Dark Lord,” she repeated in a tight voice.
“Smashing.” I pulled back and clapped her once on the shoulder, hard. “Off you go. Have a safe and pleasant trip home, now!”
Of course, I hadn’t actually seen the cat village. Depending on how much of it was built in or around living khora, it was an open question whether her home was still standing. Or inhabited. To judge by their expressions, it had occurred to them, too.
I stood in the center of the open gate, forcing them to move around me, and just watched in silence until the last of them had vanished into the forest. Only then did I turn around.
“We should’ve wiped them all out anyway, Lord Seiji,” Jadrin said unexpectedly. Her voice was thick; looking at her, I discovered to my shock that she seemed on the verge of crying. I’d never realized Jadrin had any feelings beyond scorn, humor, and scornful humor. She must have been close to one of our dead.
There were several mutters of agreement from the onlookers. I slowly gazed around at them, gauging the mood. Absolutely nobody looked happy, of course. Most of my people were quiet and solemn, but I saw now that Jadrin was far from the only soul wanting revenge.
I sighed softly, then raised my voice.
“That’s how they get us, y’know.”
Anger shifted toward confusion on several faces, and I let it for a few seconds before continuing.
“Not the cats, they’re up to their necks in this as much as we are. I mean the Clans. The Convocation… Fuck, just the people in charge in general, you don’t need me to run down the list. This is why they get to be in charge no matter how obvious it is that they’re not morally qualified or even basically competent enough to rule. Because everybody who might be motivated to resist them is always pitted against everybody else instead of the people actually responsible for all the problems.”
I half-turned so I could stare out into the darkened forest in the direction the cats had gone.
“We have to be able to distinguish between our enemies. To differentiate those who choose to be our enemies because they despise what we stand for and will lose their power if we succeed… And those who are our enemies because the first group have managed to maneuver us into conflict. The scheme is brilliant in its evil elegance. Once blood has been shed and vendettas declared, the bastards don’t even have to do anything. We’ll all just keep fighting each other while they sit back and laugh.”
Turning back, I faced everyone again, adopting a resolute expression.
“No one is more cast out and persecuted than the beast tribes. You heard them; the cats did this because they were frightened and uncertain, because their survival is always at risk and they felt they couldn’t afford to take chances. And because they were manipulated into it, in the end, by our enemy. Same old story. Well, now they know better than to challenge us. If the cats come back here and are willing to bend the knee and obey, I will welcome them into the fold, same as I have every other outcast.
“We must be willing to forgive our enemies—not because we’re saints, because quite frankly, fuck that. But because we must be strategists. Because that is what it will take for us to win, and if we can’t do it, we’re all screwed.”
Some of the faces around me seemed mollified—or at least more thoughtful than angry now. Not all, but I could tell everyone was listening and thinking. The anger was still there, and still justified, but I saw no immediate sign of anyone about to start letting that anger make their decisions for them.
After giving them a couple more seconds to absorb my words, I moved on briskly before thinking could turn into challenges or questions. Stepping back into the courtyard, I moderated my tone to a more businesslike cadence to signal a change in mood.
“Minifrit, I’m going to have to leave this in your hands. I want more than anything to tend to our fallen right now, but it’s going to be chaos out there after the fire. A lot of people will need a healer, starting with those of our own who were out there caught in it.”
“None of them would begrudge you that, Lord Seiji,” she said, nodding deeply. “I will see our people sent to rest with all respect and honor.”
“Thank you,” I said softly, putting weight into the words, before resuming my more brisk delivery. “Anybody with injuries the slimes didn’t heal, step up now and I’ll take care of it. I need people kitted out to move, and supplies prepared to be distributed. Other objectives are going to have to be put on hold; right now we have to go help whoever we can help. Here’s the plan…”
Comments
Michael Henson
Nah, dysentery. It's ALWAYS fucking dysentery.
lenkite
The Dark Lord will die of Unhealable Gonorrhea in the end - I called it.
Motanium
Sakin dying off screen? Nah, he definitely pulled some kind of trick. That or I'm in denial.
Patryk Rys
What the fuck? Sakin? Really? The myth the legend... Just like that... Fuck mate, is this games of throne? I hate that, dont do that author i beg you, my weak heart cant take it.
Arillius
To be fair, it probably isn't in the fucked up world he's on.
D. D. Webb
That's a war crime, Seiji.
