Book 4: Chapter 49 - The Council (RAW)

The advice of the ancestor spirits is like the wind. Abstract, yet they shape the mountains. Their wisdom may seem to be clouded, but their purpose is always clear.

- The Book of Wise Tellings from the Land of Streams.

As always with the rich and powerful, simple matters were seldom simple at all. The Hall of Repose, or so this room was called, greeted me with the gentle murmur of water cascading down the walls of blue-veined marble. Upon the circular table lay a feast fit for a king—a bounty of the land and sea, spread out like an artist's palette. Some dishes rested on beds of crushed ice, while others steamed in ornate pots, their aromas weaving about tantalizing scents.

Lady Aelayah sat poised at the table, her captain of the guard, Farzan, just behind her. Beside her was a man I did not recognize—a scholarly sort, garbed much like the late Yousef. His replacement, I surmised. To my surprise, Larynda was also present, shifting uncomfortably amidst such opulence and high company.

Across from them sat two men, distinct in their features yet alike in their posture and attire. The elder was a warrior past his prime, yet not so far gone that one would doubt his prowess in battle. Deep lines etched his face, and scars, a ledger of battles won and lost crisscrossed his weathered features. Yet he sat with the rigid posture of a younger man, his gaze sharp and unwavering as he measured me.

His companion I nearly mistook for an attractive young girl—short midnight hair framed a face of porcelain perfection. Only the tightness of his full lips, set in a near-permanent sneer, marred the illusion. He gazed upon the world with a disdain that was almost palpable. But it was his eyes that held me—deep, smokey grey pools that hinted at secrets and a feral glint beneath their surface. Too beautiful for a man, those features seemed a waste. I caught a wistful gleam in Aelayah's eyes as she regarded him and found myself disliking him instantly.

Like me, they had come to this dinner clad in armor, or rather, a formal rendition of it. They wore dark half-plate and boiled leather, the metal concentrated around their torsos and shoulders. On their right shoulders, epaulets crafted to resemble a dragon's wing gleamed under the hall's soft light. Their black breastplates were polished to a mirror shine. 

Unlike Larynda, they handled themselves with the ease and grace befitting those accustomed to high society. The girl was so embarrassing at times. Truly, she would be the death of me someday.

“You will forgive us for starting without you,” Lady Aelayah offered in greeting with a polite smile.

I took off my heavy helm, tucking it under one arm. Almost automatically I cast Identify on the pair in black armor before me, sparing a quick glance at the arming swords at their waist.

Calder Buttersworth - Tactician (Human lvl. 23)

Health: 345/345

Stamina: 42/42

Mana: 20/20

Damien de Savant - Duellist (Human/Lycan lvl.19)

Health: 256/256 [812]

Stamina: 39/39 [103]

Mana: 12/12 [8]

The pair presented me with a puzzle. Calder, despite his ridiculous name, was an enigma. He had almost as much Mana as I did, yet I instinctively knew he was not versed in its song. Damien, on the other hand, had fearsome attributes. The bracketed numbers hinted at hidden power—yet I felt no real threat from him and was sure that, if I fancied, I could end his life as easily as anyone else's.

“Gilgamesh, this is my new seneschal, Abbad. And these are the representatives from the Mercenaries. Wing Leaders...”

“Calder Buttersworth and Damien de Savant,” I finished for her.

“It seems my reputation flies swiftly before me,” remarked the younger Wing Leader, a genuine smile crossing his features.

“You think much too highly of yourself. Gilgamesh here is just very well informed, as expected of a person of the court of the Salahaem,” corrected Calder curtly, giving a nod in my direction.

I gave them my best impression of an enigmatic smile. “Just so.”

Larynda, who had witnessed me pull off similar feats before, just gave me a blank look.

“I hear you wish to challenge the decision of the Adventurer’s Guild—a bunch of undisciplined thugs,” commented Damien before biting into a delicate piece of fish.

I had a feeling some of that insult was directed at me.

“I would be delighted to take that up for you,” he offered smoothly. “I have issue with the Adventurer’s Guild. It would be both an honor and a pleasure.”

Taken aback by his boldness, I sat in silence for a moment, shifting in my chair, which groaned under the weight of my armor.

Finally, I managed a polite reply. “Thank you for the offer, but there’s already another who has decided to challenge the Adventurers Guild’s misguided decision on my behalf.”

De Savant let out a light, somewhat bitter laugh. “The offer stands. It's an insult to be falsely accused of cowardice,” he said acidly, though I sensed those words were not entirely aimed at me.

Calder stiffened in his seat but remained silent.

“Well, now that introductions are made and you’ve been granted the peace of my roof, I’ll explain what I require of you,” Lady Aelayah interjected smoothly.

“We still don’t know what the knife-ears is doing at this table,” the older man muttered.

Anger flared inside me, and I clenched my fists.

“That,” I said coldly, not moving a muscle, “would be my ward, old man. Insult her again, and I’ll gut you like a fish. In fact, I’m tempted to do so anyway… it might make for an amusing distraction.”

Damien seemed on the verge of laughing, but Calder’s face twisted from fear to indignant rage. “I beg your pardon—”

“Indeed, I insist that you do,” I interrupted, standing up. Calder’s hand drifted toward the sword at his waist.

"Don't be a child, Buttersworth. This Gilgamesh fellow could probably kill you in a heartbeat if the men are to be believed. Just apologize, and let's get on with it," Damien admonished.

I shot Calder a look full of hate, but his hand withdrew from his sword. "Is this old man of any use?" I asked Damien.

"I suppose," Damien replied, idly picking at another piece of fish. "Some of the men respect him, listen to him. But it’s no skin off my back if you want to call him out here and now. You've got more than enough reason to do so..."

"ENOUGH!" Aelayah's voice rang out, steel in her tone as she slammed both hands on the table, rattling the dishes.

Surprised by this uncharacteristic display, I fell silent. I hadn’t expected the noble lady to act so forcefully.

"She," Aelayah continued, regaining her composure, "is a Magister of the Silver and a great asset. As I was about to say, Salahaem must, through military force, compel the Council to come to Arbitration. The Alim are likely pressing for the removal of Salahaem from its position as one of the Great Houses of Al-Lazar. They may succeed, but it will take time."

"So, you want us to fight seven of the Great Houses and the Council Guard in urban combat? That will endanger the lives of the citizenry, not to mention cause widespread disruption," I remarked.

"That is of little concern. The Contest of Knives will begin at sunset," said the bookish man at Aelayah's side, adjusting his spectacles. "This is customary in a civilized city." He leaned in to whisper something to his Lady.

Aelayah offered us a small, confident smile. "While they may allow the vote to proceed, two of the Great Houses have declared neutrality in this matter. It is the only way to draw the other side into open battle."

Damien stifled a childish giggle behind his hand. "This is all rather like a game, isn’t it? And what about the division of booty and plunder?"

I couldn’t help but appreciate the irony in his words.

Lady Aelayah frowned, annoyance writ plain across her features. “Am I not paying the Mercenaries Guild enough already? It is against your charter to change the terms of a contract halfway through.”

“Calder is a stickler for the rules, but I find on this occasion that I agree with him. And with our Dragon Leaders indisposed...”

“Yes, why is it that the Dragon Leaders are not here? Do I not command enough respect for such a courtesy?” asked Aelayah in a prickly tone.

“Still, the odds would be against us would they not? Four Houses against one. It is not that, Lady Aelayah... there has been a problem,” replied Damien in a conciliatory tone.

Calder snorted. “There's no point beating around the bush, boy. They are dead, and we are the senior officers of our Dragons—which says a lot about your unit.”

I felt annoyed at their bickering that held notes of worn banter. “I believe as professionals you're supposed to at least present a professional and united front, are you not?” I commented.

“The lives of nearly two thousand fighting men and another thousand in logisticae are at stake here. Honesty is what everyone deserves,” Calder replied in a no-nonsense tone, putting down his cutlery. 

Lady Aelayah began the negotiations in truth. “We will allow you half of whatever plunder and the value of land and property you can claim from the other seven Houses...”

“We’ll also need extra hazard pay throughout this little operation you’re planning,” added the older man, Calder.

“And you will leave the stores of Dust untouched. That’s non-negotiable,” I cut in. “Consider it payment for me sparing your life.”

I needed large quantities of the narcotic to create Distilled Dust, an ingredient for the potion that would grant immortality. This show of strength might also bring me closer to gaining Charisma.

“But—” Calder started to protest.

“But nothing,” I interrupted, shutting him down. He shot a glance at Damien, but the younger man just shrugged.

“Very well,” Calder conceded weakly. Despite my success, there was no gain in Charisma.

Sensing an opportunity, Aelayah moved in. “I see no reason to add hazard pay. You’re simply doing the job we hired you for, and we’re already providing most of your supplies,” she countered.

“There’s also the matter of the Sleepers,” the beautiful man commented. “They say a single Sleeper is worth a hundred men in the field—more in an urban setting like this. They present us with a rather unique challenge.”

“How many Sleepers can Salahaem field to counter this?” he asked, his tone curious.

“I won’t deploy them unless absolutely necessary. Gilgamesh is more than a match for a Sleeper. He’s already slain one of the Alim’s,” Aelayah responded smoothly, avoiding a direct answer.

“Is that so?” Damien mused, rubbing his chin.

"The Alim are without honor. They’ll send assassins and killers to eliminate me—it's a common first move now that the lines are drawn in the Contest of Knives. Or they’ll try to neutralize Gilgamesh, their first attempt being through the Adventurer’s Guild," Aelayah said, pursing her lips. "Though they must have misjudged him. From your words, it seems you’ve chosen someone else to fight in your stead?"

"Correct. He insisted on it. Enkidu of the Three Bears will carry my honor," I explained. "He is a warrior of peerless skill."

"You can say that again. I once saw him rip a—" Larynda piped, eager to contribute.

I gave the half-elven girl a steady look. "We all know Enkidu is strong. He will more than suffice for the task."

Aelayah, the leader of the Salahaem, unconsciously ran a hand through her hair. "Strange, coming from you. You usually handle things personally, but I digress... Should your Enkidu be victorious, the Adventurer’s Guild will be diminished. Their authority in question."

Damien glanced at Calder, who nodded in return. "There’s also the matter of payment if you win Arbitration. We still have eight months on our contract, and we expect to be paid in full, regardless."

"You will, of course, be compensated," Aelayah replied dismissively. "As for the issue of the four Great Houses arrayed against us, the sea will soon recede, and the Mer will undoubtedly come. With a vote against us in motion, we will have no legal obligation to defend Al-Lazar. However, they will," she continued, her smile arching with pride. "For a time, we’ll fight the Council on equal footing. That will be enough to force them to settle this through Arbitration. And I suspect this year’s Mer assault will be particularly fierce," she finished, her voice taking on an enigmatic tone.

Both men appeared deep in thought, stewing over Aelayah’s words.

“This campaign is not as hopeless as I thought,” Calder finally concluded. “I see the strategy behind your words. It can be done, as long as we don’t have to worry about the Sleepers... but you only have one warrior who is their equal.”

“This is a secret known only to the Great Houses,” Aelayah revealed, her tone lowering. “I share it now because of the times we face. Waking a Sleeper is a complex and lengthy process—if one wishes to do so safely. They might risk it, but it would mean fewer of them arrayed against us.”

“We have at least two who are the equal of a Sleeper,” mused Wing Leader Damien with a devilish grin. “Three, if this Enkidu fellow is nearly as strong as Gilgamesh.”

Calder looked affronted, but it was the expression of a man who’d heard such declarations before. “You are no longer just a blade in a Claw, de Savant. You can not be seriously testing yourself against one of their numbers. Five hundred men look to you for leadership. What happens if you fall?”

“The men follow me because I lead by example. That’s how I rose to my rank,” Damien answered primly, taking a sip from a jeweled cup. “They trust me because they know I face the same dangers they do.”

Calder looked like he wanted to argue but ultimately held his tongue.

“I’ll remind you all that you will fight alongside the Salahaem regardless,” Aelayah interjected. “And once we win Arbitration and control the Council and the City, I will grant the Mercenaries rights to send exploration parties into the Old City—once the sole domain of the Adventurer’s Guild.”

The older veteran leaned forward eagerly, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. “For that, the Mercenaries Guild would have fought under your banner without payment!” he exclaimed.

“And that, Calder,” sighed Damien de Savant, “is why, despite your genius on the battlefield, you should never be brought to the negotiation table.”

He turned back to Aelayah. “It seems we’ll fight your little war after all, Lady Aelayah. And by the looks of it, we’ll be fighting very hard indeed.”

Larynda shot me a worried look, the realization dawning that things had grown far bigger than any of us had expected. I offered her my best reassuring smile.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, I felt a stirring in my loins—the scale of the violence ahead was enticing.

“I welcome this,” I said, my voice resolute. “Rest assured, gentlemen and esteemed Lady, I will fulfill my duties. I will teach these other Houses what it means to go against Gilgamesh of Uruk. Our victory is inevitable. I have seen it in a vision—the Goddess herself told me so,” I declared solemnly, lying through my teeth. “Allahatu Akbar, the Goddess is great, and she will guide our hands.”

But like all lies, there was a way to make it true: by ensuring everyone had no choice but to accept it.