Book 6, Chapter 25: New Deal
Emerging from the forest, sun well past its zenith, my stomach growling a little, the troops had resumed standing, still in formation. It wasn’t until Serce exited that they took a knee, spreading along their ranks like before. These ones on the flanks were likely new soldiers, had not been witness to our battle.
I held back a sigh, kept walking. That’d unfortunately reinforce Serce’s belief – ok, knowledge – that he was the rightful emperor. And I knew, oh I knew, he’d test me at some point. It was coming. And there’s no test a mortal can pass to play at being a deity.
A bridge to cross later.
I stopped. Waited in front of the troops. Serce caught up to me. Without looking at him, or turning in his direction, I said, “Your tent. Remove your clothing from it. And your eyeshadow or whatever. I’ll be taking it.” Not waiting for an answer, I continued. Let his soldiers hear that.
When I got back to where I’d started the day, the Major who’d tried to recruit me to be his personal assassin, Captain Gyges, who’d tried to bed me, and Cresida, who was more or less ok, if a little angry most of the time, standing in front of the army, their own troops in rows behind them, and our horseman escort, still in front of them, immediately dropping to one knee again.
To the horseman I walked, placing my feet in front of him, waited, listening to his breathing – he held his breath at first, then a few quick ones, eventually becoming regular – placed my hand on his head, pausing a moment further, finally saying, “You now carry my blessing. You will have many strong children, and all will live to adulthood, gifted.”
He choked up. “Thank you . . . I live to serve you.”
I felt awful. But I needed someone on my side.
***
The sun setting across the plains, we sat outside the tent, fire roaring beside us keeping the bugs away. I was torn between watching the sun sink or the flames dance, and chose the sun. The flames weren’t jealous, as they would only become more compelling, more enthralling, after darkness.
“More wine, Cayce?” asked Serce, holding the jug. Beyond our tent, a ring of tents with their backs to this one, each with their own campfire in front of them. Laemacia’s elite troops, keeping us safe.
“It’s excellent, but I think I’m done with wine for a bit. Thank you.”
“A pleasure. May I ask you a question?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Were you a goddess when we met? You were running and giggling in the halls of Castle Bechalle.”
“It was, I hate to say this, almost easier when I didn’t know anything and was just a little girl princess, new to this world . . . of politics. Aside from everyone trying to kill me or marry me off and, you know, the torture, it was, well, little did I know that would be my time of innocence.”
“After, then?”
“Serce, these matters are complicated. I’m not sure a mortal can understand.”
“All I can do is listen.”
I folded my hands under my chin, looking at the table, “As simply as I can put it, I was a deity then and didn’t know, nor believe in such things.” For a moment, I thought about launching into a long monologue about the difficulties in navigating multidimensional time and the voraciousness and viciousness of Norse mythological figures to confuse him but abated. It wouldn’t do any good to utter their names.
“Remarkable. To be sitting in your presence. And yet you appear as a mere girl.”
“Yeah, all that.”
“Do you grant prayer requests?”
My eyes narrowed, and I slid the wine glass toward him, “You’d best fill the wine cup up. I don’t see what you would need, with all your wealth and position.”
“I could pray for,” with dusk upon us, firelight danced across his light purple eyes, “companionship.” His gaze moved to the jug, then the red liquid streaming into my cup.
Footsteps up to us, the major and Captain Gyges. The major nodded and Gyges bowed, hands together fitfully, looking at each of us in turn, me longer, said, “Emperor, uhm, Empress, thank you for hosting us. Our lodgings are excellent, and we are grateful.”
The other man gave him a glance, then to us, saying, “Yes, most kind of Laemacia to join our forces.”
Serce stood, gesturing to a chair, “Please. It’s true, I knew young Cayce here as princess and you knew her as . . .?”
“Lady Sarah.”
“And we now learn she is neither. Or perhaps greater than those titles.”
“Please.” I stood. “Serce, you knew, you know, I’m the rightful heir to Laemacia and that your brother was a usurper. When you came to my kingdom as an ambassador, you were honest enough to tell me that. And Captain, well, I’m sure you understand the need for my ruse.”
“Begging your pardon, but I don’t, actually. I see no reason for you to have hidden who you were.”
Before answering, I considered. Had I my divinity, I would not have hidden who I was. So, he was correct. But the gods were ever fickle and often hid themselves among their playthings. How many heroes and demigods did Zeus father? I couldn’t even remember all their names. Alexander considered himself one, too, but that didn’t help him out in the end.
Lifting up my cup, taking a sip, and only a sip, I set it back down before saying, “Major, inform Prince Serce what you have to offer Laemacia. Why should we protect you? And Serce, pour these two some wine.”
If the prince was upset, he didn’t show it and elegantly poured a cup for each of our guests. Gyges, on the other hand, did appear annoyed, furrowed eyebrows, on the verge of saying something rash, but merely took the cup, saying, “Thank you. To answer your question, my lady, lord, we bring you the last mage. He would make any army the strongest in the land.”
“I believe,” said the prince, standing tall, “Talaren would follow Empress Cayce anywhere. Because of that, I’m unsure what you bring to our nation.”
The major leaned forward, fist on the table, “He’s our mage.”
Serce shrugged slightly, gesturing at their seats, saying, “Surely, his own person.” He then sat down.
The other two took their seats, the major saying, “Among our members are those who’ve raised talented children into mages. We alone possess the knowledge to do such. Were you to take us in, within a few years, you’d have the only contingent of wizards available.”
“No,” I shook my head. “I burned all your books and histories, your facilities for good reason. I want no more mages to be taught.”
He scowled at me, but it was Gyges who couldn’t control himself, “Do you know what that cost us! Our lives, everything we’d built, and now we are losing our lands!”
Sitting back, I considered. I could taunt him, make fun of what passes for his military prowess, say something truthful and nasty about his marriage, or nothing at all and simply ignore him. I went with honesty. “All you built, you did so on unearned power. Your mages stole from the gods, and we are very jealous and petty creatures.”
“Petty!” he shouted.
The major rested his hand on Gyge’s shoulder, said, “Alright, Captain.”
“Serce,” I turned to face the prince, “where are your generals? I want to know the state of your army.”
“Probably dealing with returning scouting parties and preparing a briefing for me. Us, I mean.”
“You don’t handle these directly?” I did, when last I had an army. It was the only way to learn how the military worked.
“I’m concerned with loftier issues.” The corner of his mouth cracked a smile. “We’ll discuss things later.”
Maybe I didn’t want his bed after all. I’d have the sheets removed and burned. “Uh, alright.”
“So,” the prince said, sitting up and leaning forward, “if I am to understand you correctly, you would like our protection. In return, you’ll be supplying us with one mage who,” he lifted up his index finger, “our god-empress here doesn’t want training any further mages, and who cannot himself use magic. This, gentlemen, is a problem.”
After patting Gyge’s shoulder one last time, the major said, “We can get the irons off the wizard. It will take two weeks or so of traveling, possibly more, depending on conditions.”
“That would be good. I believe we can absorb your lands in our own empire. You’ll become Laemacian subjects, pay taxes, and be within the safety of our extended parasol.”
“Excuse me, but we intend to continue governing our own land.”
“Oh?” asked Serce. “And how will you go about doing that? As far as,” he glanced at me, “we can see, your military is nearly crushed, you’re unable to defend yourselves and you’re here, begging for our help.”
“We did not come here to barter away our lands. We came here in good faith to-”
“No.” Serce shook his head, “I’m afraid you’re looking at this backwards. We’re accepting your lands, welcoming them into the empire which, forgive me Empress Cayce, now includes Nevarrelund?”
“Uh, yes. That’s a yes.” I lifted the wine cup to my lips to stop myself from openly smiling and tried to sip slowly.
Gyges stood up, “You can’t-”
Serce held up his palm until Gyges went silent, then slowly stood up. “You’ve brought us back our empress, and we thank you for that. You’ve delivered to us the last remaining wizard and the remnants of your army. Your choices, now, are to submit to Laemacia or be taken as slaves. Cayce,” he looked at me, “your preference?”
“I think we can make military men out of them yet. I have no need of slaves.”
“Ah. Gentlemen?”
The major rose, as well, “Allow us to confer with our, with our men. They have families.”
“You have until morning.”
As they turned to leave, Serce slammed his hand on the table, catching their attention. His glare was cold.
The major said, “Excuse us.” He then bowed at the hip, saying, “Your Royal Majesty,” with the captain joining him, but mumbling.
I stood. “Good night.”
As the two walked off, Serce said to me, “I don’t even know their names.”
“Me either. Well, the major’s, don’t know his.”
“When they decide, we’ll either take the time to know them, or not at all. Regardless, Cayce, I was wondering, just how does one address a goddess?”
“Ah, with lots and lots of wine.” Reaching forward, picking up my cup, I took a generous drink, “Jesus, I don’t know. Honestly, Serce, all I did as a god was kill a bunch of people, blind a bunch of people – oh, I turned two people into trees – and then kill all the wizards. No one bothered to address me the entire time. I think your brother called me a bitch.”
“I’ll, uh, make sure not to repeat that mistake.”
“So, we’re really just going to absorb their entire nation?”
“It’s not that large. It only existed because of the wizards. No one dared field an army here. I believe I may actually be the first in that regards.”
“Other than the army that tore these guys apart. I expect they’re marching this way, now. And you know this, too, or you wouldn’t have put up fortifications.”
He smiled, “Yes and yes. Though without mages, we’ve been putting up fortifications every time we camp. We probably don’t need to, not now that I’ve doubled the number of scouting parties, but the army needs to practice this . . . from now on, if you won’t allow the training of new mages. And why is that? Will you be defending our army?”
“If you’d seen the battlefield, Serce, you wouldn’t be asking me that.” Sitting back down, I couldn’t bring my eyes up to meet him for a while. “But you’ve seen your own men, those who survived, the scars they bear. I didn’t want to, you know? I was going to let your brother kill me. He’d pulled me to his bed, hands around my neck, and I couldn’t fight back.”
Serce sat down, facing me.
“I couldn’t breathe, and I accepted death. But as he choked the life out of me, as my vision narrowed and narrowed, he boasted about killing my friends.” I wiped my cheeks, “That would have been easier! Better, Serce! For your world. Better that I died, then for-”
He pulled me into his arms then, my face against his chest, and he stroked my hair. “Otholos was a terrible man and deserved what you did to him. And he killed your family. Don’t feel any guilt on his regard.”
The moments slipped by and by, the alcohol hitting then and the world titled a bit, and I put my palm flat against his chest, tapping it once, then pushing myself out of his embrace, sat up in my chair, pulling my dress straight. “It’s not for Otholos I feel guilty, but the soldiers I killed that day. And I worry about the Others we are about to face. By escaping the mages’ trap, I have unleashed horrors on your world the likes of which you cannot imagine.”
“And you believe that joining our nations together, we will be strong enough?”
I pulled the wine glass up to my lips, tasting the dark red liquid, considering its flavors. Tart blackberry, hints of dark chocolate, a touch of astringent oak. Then I drew my gaze to meet the handsome prince’s lavender eyes, “No, Serce, our combined military might won’t make a difference.”
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