Of Gods and Elves

chapter Two


Millet, Maybell and Malstisos gathered their gear and left the house. Jacob sat on the front steps, fiddling with a small knife. Their horses were ready and waiting. Brandis stood a few feet away along with two guards.

“Here are your weapons,” said Brandis. He motioned to one of the guards who handed them over. “I trust you will not need them any time soon. And we have provided young Jacob with a sword as well as a mount. If you wish an escort, one can be provided, but I suspect you do not.”

“No escort is necessary,” replied Millet. “We know the way.”

“In that case I wish you a safe journey,” said Brandis. He nodded to the guards who followed him, and he disappeared down the street.

Millet led them through the village to the west road. The street was conspicuously empty.

“Do you think they plan to ambush us?” asked Maybell as they mounted their horses.

“I doubt it,” answered Millet. “They could have killed us if they wanted. Malstisos was the only one who might have escaped. No, whatever their plan is, it involves us removing Jacob from Hazrah.” He looked suspiciously at the boy.

They continued until dusk and made camp along the road. Along the way, they had passed a patrol, but the soldiers ignored them.

“It would seem that Brandis intends to let us leave without incident,” said Malstisos.

Millet stared at the fire and rubbed his hands together. “So it would seem.” He watched as Jacob checked his horse and unpacked his gear. “We must find a way to contact Lee without giving away his location. Until then, I’m afraid we have no way to trust the lad.”

“I have exceptional hearing,” said Jacob. “From my father’s side of the family, I assume. Contact him if you must. As for me I’m headed for Baltria once we’re safely away from here.”

“You intend to abandon your mother?” asked Millet.

Jacob glowered. “There’s nothing I can do for her.” He placed his blanket near the fire. “They won’t send for her, I don’t care what they told you. I doubt she’s even alive.”

“They let you live, didn’t they?” said Malstisos.

“That may be. But I’m in Hazrah, and my mother is not. The house Nal’Thain still has a good name among the people. To kill me without scandal or reprisal, they would need to do it away from the city.”

“We were told that you helped Angrääl take control,” said Maybell huddled close to the fire, sipping elf brandy.

“That’s a lie,” spat Jacob. “I did everything I could to stop them.”

“That may be,” said Maybell. “But if the people believe it, I doubt your death would cause much of a scandal.”

Jacob pulled his blanket close and stared into the fire.

“What did happen?” asked Malstisos. “From what we have seen it didn’t take much of an effort for Angrääl to seize control.”

Jacob scowled. “It was the King,” he muttered in disgust. “He sold us out.”

“You’re not making sense,” said Millet. “Even the King couldn’t simply hand over control of the land to a foreign power without resistance from the nobles.”

“That’s not what happened,” replied Jacob. “They were far more subtle. A year ago an ambassador arrived at court with a message of friendship. He said he was from a kingdom in the north and desired to establish relations and trade. Naturally, the lords were skeptical. All the old tales of the northern kingdoms are of terror and war, but the ambassador assured us of his good intentions and suggested that we send an envoy to meet with his lord. After much deliberation, the King agreed. I wanted to be the one to go, but mother wouldn’t allow it.”

“Wise woman,” said Millet.

“In this case she was.” Jacob nodded in agreement. “The King sent his second cousin to gauge the truth of matters. Sadly, though loved dearly by the King, he has no skill with diplomacy. He returned two months later accompanied by a full entourage of representatives from Angrääl, enough to occupy a proper diplomatic embassy. At first, the King protested, but his cousin convinced him that relations and trade would be in the best interest for the kingdom. Before long they had bought a building near the palace and had established themselves as the embassy to the “Reborn King of Angrääl.”

“That didn’t send up warning flags?” asked Millet. “The “Reborn King” can only be referring to the Demon King, Rätsterfel. Surely the temples intervened when they heard this?” He retrieved a loaf of bread and dried meat from his pack and passed it around.

“I believe the temples had been infiltrated long before the arrival of the ambassador,” replied Jacob.

“Why would you think that?” asked Maybell, trying to contain her irritation.

“From the moment they arrived they showed their contempt for the Gods. They refused to have their embassy blessed, and turned away any offer of friendship the temples made. On the streets they openly mocked the Gods, and said that anyone that trusted in them was a fool. A few of the temples were even vandalized. Everyone knew who did it, but there was no proof. More than that, the temples did little to stop it.”

“All this and the King did nothing?” said Millet.

“There was nothing to do,” said Jacob. “The temples made no complaint. Not to the King or anyone else. In fact, it was widely known that many of the high priestesses and senior monks had dealings with them on a regular basis. I myself saw the chief librarian of the Temple of Gerath riding with the ambassador, talking and laughing as friends.”

“That means nothing,” said Maybell. “You can’t know why they were speaking.”

“True,” he answered. “But the next day the library was robbed and nearly every important text stolen. The culprits were never found despite the fact that I told the magistrate what I had seen. Of course, after that life became more difficult for my mother and me. Several of our trade caravans were attacked, and our interests in the copper mine were suddenly audited. I went to the magistrate to complain, but I fear he had already been bought. The chief finance minister manufactured reasons for our mining assets to be stripped away. Of course they were sold to an unknown party, and by unknown I mean Angrääl.”

“Was anyone else attacked like this?” asked Millet.

“Oh, yes, I was not the only Lord of Hazrah with the courage to stand up to these interlopers. But our resistance was short lived. With the King and the temples against us, we were reduced to simple acts of defiance and petty acts of vandalism. Unfortunately, in my case they found my weakness.”

“And what might that have been?” asked Malstisos.

“My mother. As I became more brazen in my resistance, they threatened to kill her if I didn’t fall in line. My first reaction was to send her away. We have friends in Baltria, and I thought she’d be safe there, but they got to her before I could make the arrangements. I was told that she had volunteered to attend court in Angrääl as the personal representative of the King, but the truth is they are using her as leverage against me. It was a week after she left when the first Angrääl troops arrived. The King announced that there was a growing threat from the southern kingdoms, and they were only there to assist in our defense, but it was soon clear that it was an occupation.”

“It’s difficult to imagine all this,” said Millet. “The people of Hazrah would have risen up and fought in my day.”

“Some tried,” he said. “But any who took up arms were slaughtered and called a traitor to the throne. Most were arrested before they could organize and be send north.”

“Is that how you ended up in prison?” asked Maybell.

Jacob nodded slowly. “At first they said I was being held for questioning about a raid on a grain shipment. There was, of course, no such raid. It was clear I was framed to get me out of the way. They made it seem as if I was cooperating in order to coerce me into furthering their goals, but I refused. I think the only reason I’ve kept my head is that my mother has agreed to work with them.”

“I can’t believe Lady Nal’Thain would side with the Dark Knight over her own people,” said Millet. “She would rather die.”

“You’re right,” said Jacob. “But it was my life and not hers she was protecting. That’s what they do. They use the people you care for against you.”

“How long have you been in prison?” asked Maybell.

“Six months,” he replied. “I was released once but immediately rearrested. When I was jailed the first time, troops were just arriving. Now they are at least two-thousand strong.”

“What do you intend to do?” asked Millet. “If you go back you’ll be imprisoned…or worse.”

“Like I said earlier,” said Jacob. “I’m heading to Baltria. I have friends there who can help me. Then I’m going to get my mother out of Angrääl.”

Millet thought for a moment. “I’ll go with you.” He turned to Malstisos. “You and Maybell go back and tell Lord Starfinder what has happened.”

“I don’t need you slowing me down,” said Jacob.

Millet laughed. “If you are who you say you are then you will need my help. I traveled with your father for many years and am far more capable than you might think.”

Malstisos smiled. “You should listen to your elders, young one. Millet is far more traveled than you. Besides, I doubt they left you with any coin. How do you intend to eat and lodge?”

“I can hunt,” said Jacob stubbornly. “I’ve learned to survive on my own.”

“That may be,” said Millet. “But I serve the house Nal’Thain and have an obligation to see to your well-being.”

Jacob met Millet’s eyes. “You serve my father, not the house Nal’Thain. He gave up his right to use that name when he abandoned us.”

“You speak from ignorance,” said Millet. “But now is not for me to enlighten you.” Millet straightened out his bedroll. “I am going with you. We’ll take the road east to Manisalia. There is a crossroads a few days from the city. We’ll split up there.”

Maybell’s eyes lit up. “Perhaps we should see the Oracle.”

“You can try,” said Millet. “But I would not tarry long. If she will not see you right away you should move on.”

“I would relish the chance to see the Oracle,” said Malstisos. “She is well known to my people.”

“I think you will be disappointed,” said Jacob. “The rumor is she has left Manisalia to escape the armies of Angrääl. I even heard that she is dead.”

“I hope you’re wrong,” said Maybell, settling into her blanket. “It would be a great loss to the world. Her wisdom has helped guide the world away from destruction for many decades.”

“Decades?” said Malstisos. “My people have tales of her that go back before the Great War. I have always assumed her to be more than one person, the title passed down but perhaps not.”

“You think she is that old?” asked Maybell. “She is human, after all.”

“Are you so certain of that? Our stories always describe the same person, always looking the same way. That in itself means nothing, but I’ve also heard human tales of her. Recent ones. They are too similar in her description to think it a coincidence. At least it seems that way to me.”

“Maybe you can ask her if she is still there.” Millet pulled his blanket over his chest and yawned. “We still have a long journey ahead. We can continue this discussion tomorrow.”