Book 5, Chapter 37: Emperor Otholos

The infantry parted for us, staring at me as I passed. A few made what I can only imagine were vulgar symbols – pulling their eyelids down, eyeballs rolled up so the whites of their eyes were showing, touching their tongue to their chin – but since it wasn’t my culture, they just looked ridiculous to me. One young man smiled, and I smiled back at him. He blushed a little.

It pleased me to see that their spears were no match for our sarissa, and I hoped Carlisele had the wherewithal to take advantage of this situation, should the need arise. Thank whichever god Morry was there to take charge.

We next rode through the cavalry and they were a frightful bunch. Long hair tied back in braids, red and black warpaint on their faces, thick leather padding for armor on their chests and legs, long spears held at the ready. Their horses were restless, stamping their feet, biting at the already short-cropped grass. They’d been waiting a while.

The men eyed me up and down and I stared right back. One gestured at his chest with both hands, perhaps mimicking my breasts. Another ran his tongue slowly along his teeth. I stopped looking at them. It didn’t matter how big, strong or vicious they were. A hand gesture from me and they were so much carbon, floating on the air.

Perhaps it was fear, a little girl surrounded by endless enemy warriors, but the desire to use magic, to give myself over, had never been so strong. All these men, all eyes on me now, so full of bravado and violence. I hated them for these and directing such threats at me and mine and had to work to hold myself back.

No, I told myself, almost pleading, I did not want to burn them to death. It wasn’t their choice, to be here. And their posturing was for their own sake, to prop up their own fears. Calm down, I told myself. Calm.

But when the first one spit on me, and many followed form, they began to change my mind. The lead horseman, rude to me earlier, barked out orders, and the spitting stopped.

I wiped my face. And left my clothing alone.

The command tent waited beyond these lines. It boasted a large, open-air front area with a table, beverages and fruit upon it, several purple and red, gold trimmed, padded chairs, and beyond that, an enclosed tent, door open. I could just glimpse red and golden rugs within and many throw-pillows, the corner post of a bed inside.

A man sat at the table, lazily munching on an apple. Presumably, this was Otholos. He did not stand as we rode up. He wore a deep red coat, like a hauberk, from shoulders to ankles. Gold emblems adorned it, and his collar and sleeves were trimmed in black. Well shaved, jet-black hair tied back, and eyes a darker purple than my own.

The lead horseman dismounted, casually passed his reins to a servant, and took hold of the reins of my horse. He held out his hand, but I ignored him and slid off to stand on the ground.

He led me to the table, knelt in obeisance, head to the ground, saying, “The Princess Cayce, of Nevarrelund, Your Majesty.”

Hands together, in front of me, I waited.

The emperor ran his gaze up and down my body. “You are a pretty one. Serce was not mistaken. You will make a fine wife.” His garb was fastened at the waistline with a thick, black belt.

“I came to discuss why you have brought your army to my lands.”

“To conquer, of course.”

“Serce agreed to peace on your behalf. At least until after this summer.”

“Only while you yet lived to visit our grand empire. We received reports of your death and the loss of your army. And here you are, still very much alive.”

I couldn’t help myself and said, “News of my death has been greatly exaggerated.”

He laughed and stood, gesturing at the table. “Please, sit.”

Otholos came to my side of the table, pulling the chair out for me. Pushing my dress forward, I sat. Then I picked up a carefully folded napkin, felt that it was made out of silk, and used it to clean the spit off my clothing. “I came to ask you to return to Laemacia. I’d like there to be no further killing today.”

Returning to his side of the table, he remained standing. “Your army is vastly outnumbered. You came by yourself,” he let his eyes drop slowly from mine down to my lips, neck, and then chest, where his gaze lingered before coming back up, “to somehow convince me not to attack. After I’ve brought so many men. You are very brave, though perhaps unwise.”

“I freely admit my naivety borders on stupidity from time to time. Perhaps often. Regardless, I was hoping you’d return to our agreement.”

“I made no such agreement with you.”

“If your ambassador doesn’t speak for you, then you aren’t a man of your word.”

“Careful, girl.” He waved at the table, “You must be nervous. Would you like some wine to ease that?”

“Nervous.” Watched him sit. Put my hands on my lap. Wondered if his men would be upset if he had a large hole through his chest. “What do I have to be nervous about?”

He smiled. “A great many things, I’d imagine. But certainly not the wine. Is your dress soiled? Shall I have another brought for you?”

“Thank you, but I’m fond of this one and won’t be removing it any time soon.”

“A lone girl to stop an army. Perhaps the greatest army ever fielded.” He leaned forward, “And you want to keep your dress.”

I did feel stupid then for not having a plan. Sure, sure, I’d just go talk to the bad guy and that’d work out. If only we were moving another army around his flank and I were distracting him. “Yes, uh, I’d prefer keeping the dress on. These are definitely clothing-on negotiations.”

“My brother said you had an unusual wit.”

“Speaking of that, how did you like the whiskey, the beverage I provided you?”

“Harsh. I prefer Laemacian wine. Here, try some. He reached over and filled my glass from a decanter.

I sipped. “It’s good, thank you. More earthy than our wine.”

“Earthy.”

“Robust.”

“Like my army.”

“Yes, your army is very strong.” I had the sudden urge to speak as if to a baby, saying, ‘Who’s got a big army? Who’s got a strong army? You do, you do!’ and had to stop myself from giggling like a lunatic. I quickly drank more of the wine to hide my expressions.

“It is.” One hand touching his necklace, gold in the sunlight, dark splotches here and there. “And I will admit something. You are managing to delay our attack. You have accomplished this much, by coming here.”

Shock hit me, then. It was the first time, other than those I’d gifted necklaces to, that I’d seen the gold and charcoal iron on another. “Is that perseidian iron?”

He leaned forward, smiling. “I see you, too, are wearing it. All over your body. Why, Princess Cayce? Do you fear the wizards so?”

“It’s pretty and light.”

“It’s neither pretty nor charming. It’s ugly. Even from this distance, the darker colors make the jewelry look broken and disfigured.”

“And my dress? Is it ugly, too?”

“I will have you in proper, cultured attire after the marriage. And stronger iron, bands you cannot remove.”

Holding up my wrist, bracelet dangling off, “If these are so ugly, why do you wish me to wear them?”

“You will address me as ‘sire’ or ‘my lord.’”

“I will address you any way I choose. I am the rightful empress of Laemacia and you are a usurper.”

He tilted his head, then nodded. “Brave and bold often makes for a foolish combination. I’ve been told that you single handedly charged and killed several mages.”

Sitting up straighter, I tried to take this in, wondering if he had spies in Carlisele’s army even now. Would they sabotage our efforts to hold the pass? “Yes, but I imagine the story is exaggerated. I was almost killed.”

“Very brave indeed. And you now think that makes you strong. Powerful. Safe. Capable of making demands on me. I killed your family. The men cried, the girls screamed and begged. You are the last remaining heir.”

“You’re admitting to deeds Serce refused to discuss. And that I am, in fact, your empress.”

“Careful, girl. You’ll force me to end the lineage entirely.”

“Marriage will legitimize your rule. That’s what Serce admitted to. I think I’m worth more to you alive.”

He pointedly stared at my chest, “In some ways, you could be.”

“If I am to be your fourth and favorite wife, I want you to spare my soldiers and entourage.”

“Have more wine.”

I stared at him, frustrated. The wine, ok. Did he lace it or just have a fetish for watching young girls get drunk? Hopefully the latter because then, at least, I’d have alcohol in this marriage. I doubted he’d bother with poison anyway – not when he was bigger and stronger, with an army at his command – and it likely wouldn’t affect me. As good a time to test my immunities as any, though. I raised the glass, tilted it toward him, took a sip, then set it down upon the table.

“We are not barbarians as your people call us, but much more civilized than you can imagine.”

“Do you have flush toilets? Running water?”

He looked at me with puzzlement in his eyes, “Flush toilets?”

“No civilization is deserving of the title without them.”

He picked up his wine glass. “All cities of note have aqueducts.”

“I will admit, the wine is better than ours.”

“Your face and eyes have the beauty of Laemacia in them. It’s a pity you weren’t raised here.”

“Well, uh, had I been, you’d have killed me.”

“I may have let you live.” Again, his gaze lingered an uncomfortably long time. “Yes, you would be mine now.”

“And since we are on the topic of compliments, let me add that I very much enjoy your belts and belt loops to hold them up. Much better than drawstrings. And more manly.”

“Belt loops?”

I drank more of the wine out of embarrassment. “Yes.”

“I admire that you’ve come here to save your soldiers’ lives. I did not expect this.” He shrugged, “But, I thought you were dead.”

“And the kingdom. The peasants working the fields. I want you to pull your army back. No pillaging, no killing, no raping.”

“Have your men surrender. Hand over your weapons, including the new ones you introduced. Your kingdom will become part of Laemacia.”

These were choices Alexander, Genghis Khan, and others had given rulers. ‘Become our peasants or our slaves.’ Not much of a choice, but one that evaded death, I suppose. I had to go through with the motions, though I felt myself inexorably drawn to an outcome I did not want. But who wanted utter defeat?

I had to ask. “What of the men of the army?”

“After the surrender?”

“If we surrender.”

He nodded. A half smile, half smirk on his face that irritated me to no end. “They can either till the fields or join my army for the march on Ketzle.”

“You have ambitions.”

“With your armies bolstering mine, it will be a mere-”

“-exercise in transport. Yes, your brother used the same phrase. In truth, I did not come here to marry you. I came here to remind you of our agreement, that you wouldn’t attack our lands and I’d visit you later.”

“The agreement he struck, if dear Serce was being honest with me, was that we would agree to not annex your tiny kingdom if and only if you prevailed against Ketzle. It’s good you are alive and presenting yourself to me, as a gift, but I know that your army collapsed.”

“Collapsed is the wrong word to use. It is rebuilt now and has removed the Ketzillian threat from our lands.”

“You say that with such certainty.”

“I was,” I lifted the wine to my lips, lowering my gaze ever so slightly, “at the battle. And it seems your spies gave you false information, as you believed me deceased.”

“True, true. And here you are! Here you are. Demanding I cease my attack and offering nothing in return.”

“Peace treaties and stability, trade, possible friendship in the future. These aren’t enough for you?”

“I attain all that, excepting the friendship, by taking your kingdom and expanding my reign.”

“We repelled your forces easily because of the new weapons I built. We’ll do it again. And you’ll lose this army and then lose your power. I’ll take your empire for my own.”

He scoffed. “You only held because you have the higher ground. Your army won’t hold the next battle and that’s why you’ve come.”

I paused, unsure of what to say. How did Cleopatra do it? Well, my annoying mind told me, she spoke nine languages, was brilliant and charismatic, and all I have going for me is immense but unusable power. Also, I’m not interested in romance. That’s a drawback when trying to convince a conqueror to marry you and stop conquering. I sighed. Set the wine down. “Alright,” I tilted my head, testing the word, “sire, what do you want? What will it take for you to not invade my kingdom?”

He gave me a genuine, true in the face, smile. “That’s better. Obedience is key to being a wife of mine. You will make a fine wife. Young and beautiful and healthy. You will bear me many children.” He picked up the wine jug and, finding it empty, stood. “But you are dangerous. I was given a detailed account of your battle to the west. Your new weapons and armor. How you changed the use of our war rhinos. You have a dangerous mind.”

“You’d trade peace for, uh, my weapons technology?”

He moved deeper into the tent, spoke louder so I could hear him, “Your war with Ketzle left you both drained. I have no need for peace. Not now, not when you’ve given yourself to me. Brought your weak army here to be crushed.”

Shit. I wasn’t going to change his mind. Hafthon, Morry, Carlisele, they were right. “Alright. I’ll . . . give you myself and the kingdom. If you don’t,” I tried not to sigh, “if you spare my soldiers. And peasants. We’ll support your conquest of Ketzle.”

“Leave your men and have endless rebellions behind my lines?” He began to walk back, right up behind me. “No, no, not now that you’ve given me everything I need. Here,” he poured more wine into my cup, “this will make the rest of the day easier for you.”

Yeah, alright, I was thinking, I really was an idiot. What did I expect? Genghis Kahn didn’t father over 1500 children by rocking the sweet boy next door image.

It came to me then. I could stop him without killing everyone here. Maybe. But it would be difficult.

I shut my eyes and concentrated. So many people! Perhaps too many. Yet I tried. Began heating up their steel. The most I’d ever done this to were the brigands. Seven people, all within eyesight. Three hundred thousand people! I couldn’t.

I had to.

I pushed the energy out and could feel nearby blades and armor heating. More! I pushed and pushed, felt sweat trickling down my cheek. Breathing in deeply, I expanded the circle.

Otholos’ hand smacked against my face, then the pain rang through my skin. “You think you’re the only one to kill a mage?”

Staring at him, I finally understood. His spies saw. “You’re wearing the perseidian iron to protect yourself from me.”

“And you, it seems, can do magic even with the iron on. Or is this metal fake?” He backhanded me on the other side of the face, hard, and I fell over. Opened my eyes and he grabbed my collar, dragging me inside the tent.

Instead of struggling against him, I pushed the temperature up. What was a slap to me? I’d been tortured for hours, subjected to Etienne’s life-stealing spell. Closed my eyes, pushed the steel halfway to the boiling point of water and heard the shouts. Pushed it up further, then came screams and the ringing of metal being dropped and thrown.

Throwing me onto the bed, he slapped me again, then outright punched my face and everything became blurry. “That’s right! You hit them for distraction. Stops the magic. But you are resilient. How did you become a mage?”

My throat was crushed. Hands around my neck, it was like a vise. Instinctively, I grabbed his arms, pulled and pulled, uselessly. Grabbed his thumb, twisted, wrenched a hand away. Quickly inhaled.

“Oh, you have some fight in you!”

He elbowed me in the temple and my world went white briefly. I came to with him atop me, holding my hands above my head in one of his. Another slap. “You fooled me with the fake perseidian iron. Here I thought you neutered. No wonder you came to my army by yourself.”

One hand on my throat, he collapsed my airways. I pulled and pushed, trying to free my hands, but it was like pushing against concrete. Too big, too strong. This is it. I gave up, let go, relaxed. Death over global extinction. Just let him end my life.

“You’d think rape would be exciting. But no, it’s dull. Once you’ve dominated a person, they give you very little. I prefer willing partners, but I seem not to have that luxury with you. No more fight left, Empress?”

The world was tunneling onto his face and more’s the pity for it. The last vision I wanted and the last vision I’d have. It was ok, I told myself, and held the beast within. I came here to die. Exit this world to nothingness.

My arms free, his palm struck my face again, but I didn’t feel it and narrower did my field of vision go and in it I saw the big man, stepping into the circle of pikes to be my champion. Brin, arms wrapped around me, sleeping. Tread, resentful in that boat, at the world, at the aristocracy, his sisters were stolen and slaves now and I promised I’d rescue them and would now and forever fail to keep my word. Brundle, ever on my side. And Rand, that cynical bastard, loyal to a fault, pragmatic. Reese, mature and wise, I should have spent more time with her. Maitlan, ever hopeful and far too young. Gun, smiling and strong, I would go to meet my handsome suitor soon.

My friends on the pass above would all die with me, because of my death, because I did not fight back, because I allowed this death and in the allowing, made it suicide. Otholos’ army would see to that.

Suddenly I could breathe. Vision expanding. His body straddling mine, hand again holding my arms above my head.

Otholos leaned into my face. “How easy to kill you. I won’t. You will bear me children. As I conquer your kingdom and take your lands.”

It was hard to breathe, throat throbbing with pain, but I inhaled anyways. My little arms taut, not even pulling against him anymore. He was going to kill my friends and keep me alive. No. I did not like that. Not a little. Not one bit. I whispered, “Otholos.”

“Yes? You wish to speak? Bargain?”

Shut my eyes. The beast. Opened them with rage and purple flame. Breaking his hold, I took him by the throat, hefted him up, pushed off the bed and stood.

He gurgled. Kicked uselessly, his feet dangling in the air. Hit my arm again and again.

I stared into his eyes. Face turning purple, he tried to speak, so I squeezed harder. “No, dear husband, I do not wish to bargain.”

I gave myself to the divinity and burned with the fire of a thousand suns. His skin went red first, hair burned away, eyelids curled open, flesh blackening. His struggles ceased. The water in his eyes evaporated and they shrank into his skull. Yellow flames danced on his skin as it peeled away, disintegrating, eyes now dark sockets, flesh on fire, streams of plasma in the wind and gone and I was holding his bones. They burned a bright orange, darkening to a vibrant red, flames washing away everything that was him. The rare iron around his neck dripping at first, melting into liquid, falling into my flame and turned the brightest white as it, too, became plasma, pushed away by my relentless, intense heat.

A deity.

I stretched forth my hands and burned brighter and hotter and full of endless rage. Everything around me, people, horses, tents, chests, chairs, tables, rugs, instantly vaporized. Not a mushroom cloud, but a roaring ball of plasma rose into the sky, atoms super-heated to thousands of degrees. I stood upon molten earth, red and pulsating white as the winds rushed in.

Those who could were already running, heading away in all directions. None challenged me, fire demon that I was in the midst of their ranks. Their rhinos stampeding, horses racing away. Instantly, no more kindness left in me, I melted all their weapons, armor, their steel. Those who had earlier stripped survived.

Around me, the molten ground burned bright and streamed ions into the sky, my holy ground, consecrated, blessed. I walked across it, leaving this place. It was time to visit Ketzle, to convince them to leave my kingdom alone.

Yet I could feel the mages now, their power somehow tied into mine. Their panic. They were waiting for this very moment. With great fear and worry.

Several dropped out of their light cylinders behind the encampment, preparing to encircle me. I sent a laser fifty feet wide and washed it over them for thirty seconds. Black, then bright orange, then white, became the ground it crossed, and a long line of clouds of carbon rose into the sky, the blast hitting the mountains off in the distance beyond, liquifying their base, a red molten river from here to there, darkening now under the cooler air, starting wildfires along its border. And those mountains collapsed, tons and tons and tons of rock crashing down onto the plains, deafening sound echoing across the valley, matched only by the roaring thunder of my person. The beam exited the planet, continuing for the rest of ever, until the heat-death, and subsequent red-shifting slower than even a god could fathom.

Another cylinder shot up into the air as a mage descended behind me. Landing on liquid rock at 4000 degrees, he screamed briefly and became a candle. Four more mages made the same mistake.

They, too, knew where I was. More were coming.

A black pillar shot up into the sky and a robed figure slammed into the ground beyond, kneeling. He stood. “Princess Cayce! Outsider!” shouted Grand Magister Tye, voice somehow clear over the roar of the escaping plasma.

I put a negative space behind him, the implosion sucking everything near into it, ashes, wood, melted steel droplets, bone fragments. For an instant, it deafened the world around us. His pillar of shadow lanced outward, at an angle, and I knew he escaped.

Another mage landed on his knees, slammed his hands into the unburnt ground beyond, everything near him darkening, dying, the circle expanding toward me.

Pain as it hit, intense. I took a step back, my energy dimming. No! Pushing and pushing, I pumped more energy into my rage and fire even as he stretched his hand toward me. His skin became hollow, dark circles under his eyes, bruises sprang up, his muscle mass shrunk, skin almost hanging off him, hair whitening, thinning, he collapsed.

Twenty or so mages crashed nearby, their cylinders fading. As one, they stabbed rods into the earth and death expanded outward from these and hit me. I fell to my knees, sending dust twirling away from the lifeless ash. The endless migraine, crushed organs, swelling joints and bruised muscles of Etienne’s spell multiplied by their number.

Pushing my right hand on the ground, struggling to stop them draining me, I pointed my left hand at a mage and vaporized his head. Beneath my other hand, flowers and grass and herbs sprouting. Once grown, the plants blackened, withering against the mages’ onslaught.

My chest screaming, left arm going numb, and I, struggling to breathe, pulled and pulled more power into me. The greenery began to spread. I imagined a supernova and drew from that. One of the staff bearers became younger, skin supple and smooth and shining, light streaming out his eyes, he almost yelled before his body exploded.

I turned my jetting, violet gaze on another, an elderly woman, flowers around me expanding and she became youthful, beautiful, let go her staff, fell to her knees holding her head.

Six more cylinders rose up into the air, mages dropping to the ground, circles of death expanding from them and into me. My bluebells withered, a white orchard turned grey, shriveled, grass yellowing, blackening, dust. The mages were relentless. Their circles sucked everything, all life and energy, and nothing but ash was left, the winds drawn fiercely to my molten earth blowing life’s remains away.

My body wracked with pain. I couldn’t scream. Collapsed. Lost control of my muscles, shaking and shaking, joints swelling. There were too many, far too many, biting my flesh from every direction, tearing my thoughts apart.

He stood over me. “We caught you in time,” and kicked me in the head.