* * *
When he arrived, a servant led Alkorn to a waiting room and asked to him to make himself comfortable. He lay down one of the seven couches and was quickly asleep.
He was awoken by a soft cough.
"The Lady-Regent Debra will see you now." The servant told him. He stood up and went to the nearest mirror to arrange himself, then followed the servant to the audience room. Debra had not yet arrived.
There were three thrones at the front of the room. The main throne, that of the prince who would be king upon his return, was empty, as was that of his future queen. Beside these, slightly lower and much less extravagant, was the throne where Debra herself would sit. Alkorn bowed deeply, as he had been coached, gritting his teeth at the absurdity.
She ignored him as she entered the room. It was not until she was seated that she acknowledged him.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming so quickly, general? Didn't want me to know?" She asked with a wicked smile.
"I apologize Lady-Regent. I am not one for sensationalism, and we were hoping to avoid the crowds." Alkorn replied, as politely as he could manage.
"With little success, it would seem. Half the city awoke when the realized you had come. The great general, slayer of cow-heads and champion of Yaloran." Debra broke into a soft cackle, her mirth filling the room.
"I live to serve the realm, Lady-Regent." He replied. Erik and Alkorn had decided that he should stick to truth whenever possible. He was not a very accomplished liar.
Still smiling, she answered "And how was it? Did you kill all the baddies? Have you brought me any trophies?"
"The cow-heads are nomadic, I'm afraid. They care little for treasures we consider valuable. We have brought grain, however, and other foodstuffs for the people."
Debra's face darkened. "You think I cannot feed my people?" She asked sharply.
An error. He should have slept longer. "Lady-Regent, I meant no disrespect."
She pondered for a moment, then her grin returned. "Very well, general. I believe you. You are, after all, a great hero, and must be incapable of deception. Now, let us discuss your performance in the past campaign. You lost many soldiers."
"Every death was felt by the realm my lady, but in war there is always death."
"Still, I would have hoped for a bit more success from the King's favorite commander. Have the years since his death dulled your mind? Are you beginning to feel your age?"
Alkorn stiffened at the mention of the king.
"I have done everything in my power, Lady-Regent. If you are unsatisfied with my abilities, then I am happy to suggest some replacements."
"And have the whole absurd cycle continue? I think not. Besides, it seems there are few enemies left. We may not have need of your army for much longer." She answered with a smirk.
"I would caution my Lady-Regent against such thinking. My scouts were busy before our return. There is evidence of a greater army approaching. The cow-head prisoners confirm this."
"Please," Debra said, dismissing the idea with a wave, "Such rumors have reached us even here. It was an invasion they were planning, and we have undone their plan while it was still in its infancy."
Alkorn began to argue, but caught himself. There was no chance of convincing her, but great risk of angering her.
Alkorn stood straight. "Has there been any progress finding the prince, Lady-Regent?"
Debra froze, her face twisting with rage. "Every effort is being made. Do not try to distract from your own failures."
"Failures, my Lady-Regent? I have done exactly as you have..."
"Enough. I grow tired of your presence and have duties to attend to. There will be a banquet to celebrate your meager victory. I suggest you concentrate on soldiering in the future and stay away from matters that do not concern you. You are dismissed."
Alkorn grimaced at his mistake, then bowed deeply, and left the room.
Ibalize, Yaros
With one clawed hand Ibalize grabbed the man in front of him, and brought the other down, crushing his skull. He tossed the broken corpse aside, then slashed at a nearby horse, slicing through its thick flesh. The animal tried to scream but instead squirted blood from its open throat. It pitched forward and tossed its master. Ibalize caught the knight before she could hit the ground, and rammed a claw up through her chin and out the back of her head.
He looked around and reveled in the brutality his army was causing. All manner of monster surrounded him, the treacherous cow-heads, the fallen angels and mindless undead intermingled with a hundred different species, willing and unwilling, slaughtering at his command. Some had even been enemies, not long ago, but Ibalize allowed those with strength to survive.
He turned towards a charging lancer. Ibalize swatted away his petty weapon, then grabbed the man and drew him in close.
"You think you can kill me?" He ripped the man's arms from his body and tossed him to the ground to be finished by the dogs. Ibalize turned and started to walk away. The battle was all but won, he would let his minions finish the conquest. They would gather up survivors to be sacrificed in mortal combat, and his ranks would be renewed.
When he reached the rearguard his brother was waiting. Yaros glared at him with disgust.
“Everything about this battle is unsavory." Yaros said as Ibalize tried to walk by. "There is no need for so much death. Disorganized. Ineffective. Pointless."
Ibalize laughed. "The enemy lies dead, and I feast upon their corpses. What more could you want?"
"We need not feast upon our own soldiers' corpses perhaps?"
Ibalize laughed again. "These mortals, they are here for our pleasure and nothing else. If they do not amuse, then kill them yourself."
"As always, nonsensically, you miss the point."
Ibalize stared out across the battlefield, watching for spots he might be able to have some final bits of fun. Those that could had retreated, however. He would have to wait for the next army. He turned away and walked to the shade of a large tree. He had had all but the one cut down, to force the humans out. Yaros' idea. It had worked well, much to Ibalize's annoyance.
"You bore me, brother, but it seems until you have bored me enough I'll not be rid of you. What do you mean?"
"Your army dwindles. You need not eat, but your soldiers do. Their weapons are broken and their armor cracked. In short, brother, you can obviously kill, but if you do not care for your soldiers then you will be killing alone."
"More fun for me." He said. One of the undead brought him a sheep, and Yaros snapped its neck to stop the bleating, then began to strip it of its wool.
"Ever elegant. We will have slain every army, looted every town. Our soldiers die in foolhardy attacks and you..."
"I thought you just said we were low on supplies." Ibalize interrupted.
Yaros gaped.
"If we are short on supplies, then our soldiers will die of starvation. Is it not better that they die in the glory of battle?" Ibalize asked.
Yaros stared at him, dumbfounded. "You are a fool." He said, finally.
"Perhaps, but I am a fool with a plan. Now leave me to enjoy my unnecessary meal."
"You truly are a fool." Yaros said.
"AND I LEAD THIS ARMY." Ibalize rose to his feet, towering over his brother. "You had best remember that."
Yaros glared at him, unphased by this sudden burst of wrath. "Else you will lock me away?" He asked.
Ibalize snarled, then shoved his brother backward. Yaros stumbled, but made no move to retaliate.
"I tire of you." Ibalize said with finality, then went back to his sheep.
Yaros looked at him with disgust, turned and walked away.
Alkorn, Gloria
Alkorn hated feasts. He was surrounded by panderers and sycophants, all trying to sway Debra towards their petty concerns. His disgust made even the elegant foods that had been prepared in his honor taste like rot. He would have loved the magically preserved rations that his soldiers were now enjoying, if only
it meant he had their company instead.
His only consolation was that Erik had been permitted to accompany him. Some lord or duke would likely find Erik later and attempt to curry favor with his father, but that was not Alkorn's concern. He was simply happy to have his friend nearby, and Erik thrived in such situations.
"You seem Lord Trillian, across from us in the red cape?" Erik whispered to Alkorn, not motioning to the man. "He lost his son, recently. Inciting rebellion. Three people to my right, the lady Songhearth. Her husband is rotting in the dungeons for misinformation about the whereabouts of the prince. Five to my right, the sickly looking one, released from the dungeon for tonight only, to appease his mother, who has troops the Lady-Regent needs."
"Everyone in this room has a reason to hate Deb...."
"Easy, my lord," Erik interrupted, "There is slight difference between gossip and treason, but it exists."
Alkorn glared at Debra in disgust. She sat at the head table, her hair neatly tied back. She was wearing her full suit of armor, and a sword that had been a gift from the king when she was knighted. She spoke casually to those around her, laughing at appropriate jokes, making her own in turn. She was the picture of nobility. Every once in a while, however, Alkorn could see the cracks in her facade. A suspicious glance at an overly boisterous laugh across the room, a grimace when the room feel too quiet. She ate very little, picking at her food, and drank even less.
"I would not stare overly long," Erik cautioned quietly, "As you watch, you are being watched."
Alkorn tore his gaze away and began to look at others around the room. The fear was palpable. Laughter was forced, and none had the courage to meet his gaze.
Debra stood up, and the room went silent. She waited a moment, then began to speak.
"Today, we celebrate a great man. I do not know how many of you have heard his story, but it is an incredible one. He began as a mere peasant, his parents, faithful to the realm but poor, were killed in a raid by the enemy forces near the eastern border. He was young, and smart, and hid himself in the latrine." Debra glanced over at Alkorn with pure sympathy, then continued.
"He was never one to give up, but he was young, and farm work was beyond him, so he ended up in an orphanage. He would not brag about these times himself, but the stories of his bravery are still told by his soldiers. Defender of the weak, he organized a group of cripples and weaklings to fight against the resident bullies, and restored some order to the place."
"When he was of age he joined the Yaloran Army and went off to war against the realm's enemies. His accomplishments there are too many to recount, but as you know he quickly rose through the ranks, making officer, and finally being promoted to general."
"General Alkorn has served us faithfully, and effectively. He has won victories where others thought no victories were possible, and turned crushing defeats into momentary delays."
"And so, today we celebrate our greatest warrior. We celebrate his boldness and his brilliance. And we finally offer him the chance to rest."
The nobles gasped as one and stared at Alkorn. He quickly got over his own shock, smiled at everyone, and waved. He looked to Debra, who motioned for him to speak.
"My Lady-Regent, I thank you for your kind words. I have done everything in my power to defend this realm, have been burned and bled. I...I am in need of rest. But should the realm ever need me again, I will be here." He was not a politician. Alkorn looked to Erik, who gave a slight nod.
"You will always be needed, General Alkorn, but your duties must change. Your armies have already been reassigned, but you can go to what is left of them tomorrow to say your goodbyes. Congratulations, General." Then Debra smiled, and sat down. Conversation slowly resumed, though the glances in Alkorn's direction stayed regular. He sat in silence, staring at his food.
Finally, when it seemed the people had grown tired of looking at him, Erik turned to him.
"You should leave."
Alkorn paused for a moment, then nodded and quietly snuck away.