The lands of the Free Folk, near the Kwasir border
The clear skies made for perfect riding weather. It would have been a fine day to take off atop a fine horse, bow and arrow in hand, hunting down rabbits for supper or perhaps even chasing bigger game. Flowing water attracted creatures of all kinds. Deer, skittish and flighty, bounding away in the blink of an eye. Boars, stubborn and fearless, with a charge that could break a man’s bones. Bears, clever and hard to kill, made for uniquely challenging sport. The heart danced at the possibilities. For natural-born hunters like the beastfolk, this place was nothing short of paradise.
“Look at it! The grasslands! The game! It’s all right there, and I’m just supposed to ride on through!”
High Consul Skadi of Steissen howled her frustrations to the sky. Her aides looked on, a little exasperated but not unsympathetic. She glanced around as she clawed at her hair. Her beastfolk senses had caught the scent of prey—a deeper instinct than rational thought could suppress. Her jaw clenched as she faced the road ahead.
It had all begun with a letter. Now she and a handful of bodyguards were en route to the location it had proposed. Her face fell as she pulled out the missive from Lucia du Anguis, Six Kingdoms’ prospective High Queen.
“Damned shame the way this is going. I was hoping we might at least get a decent war out of all this...”
One of her aides saw what she was looking at and turned to her uneasily. “You sure it ain’t a trap, chief? Not that I don’t think you could take a fight or anything. Just thinking, maybe we could have brought a few more swords.”
“I wondered the same thing, but no, she’s on the up-and-up. I’d bet my hide on it.”
“How do you know?”
“’Cause my gut says so, that’s why.”
Skadi pointedly turned her attention back to the letter. It was a simple request for a secret meeting, along with directions to the meeting place, but the terse quill strokes betrayed that it had been written begrudgingly.
“If she ain’t happy about all this, odds are there’s somethin’ to it.” Skadi grinned as she scratched at one of her horns. “Still, pickin’ out a prime hunting ground for the meeting spot... Feels like one last kick in the teeth and no mistake.”
She looked around again. Pristine wilderness stretched in every direction, untouched by civilization. With so little blood in the air, the grasslands held no interest for any but the feeblest monsters, making them an ideal ecosystem for fauna low on the food chain. Skadi’s hunter’s instincts would not stop itching. Surely just a little wouldn’t hurt, she thought...but then, when it came to hunting, beastfolk didn’t know the meaning of moderation. They kept going until they had their fill, which would take days at least. In a place like this, it might never come at all.
With no small amount of restraint, Skadi and her party made their way toward the meeting spot. At last, a tent came into view. It flew no banners, but the attending soldiers were too well equipped to be bandits. It could only have been Lucia.
Skadi pushed the temptation of hunting from her mind and spurred her horse a little faster. As she drew close, she leaped down from the saddle and approached the man standing before the tent.
“Six Kingdoms, I’m guessing? Got an appointment with your queen.”
“Thank you for coming. Her Majesty awaits within.” With an elegant bow, the man stepped aside.
Skadi turned back to her troops. “All right, you lot. Wait out here.”
She strode inside, her frustration showing in her gait. The tent was dark and cloying with incense. Her sensitive nose wrinkled in discomfort.
Toward the back, Lucia reclined on a leather-trimmed couch. She smiled as she registered Skadi’s arrival. “Why, High Consul. It has been far too long. Please, have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”
Skadi flung herself down into a chair. “Let’s cut to the chase. Tell me what this is about, and if it ain’t worth my while, I start throwin’ punches.” She seized a nearby wine bottle, popped the cork, and set it to her lips.
“Making yourself right at home, I see. Did it not occur to you that might be poisoned?”
“Ain’t met a poison I couldn’t stomach. Now, as you were sayin’?”
“Very well. I suppose I ought to get to the point. This shall go nowhere otherwise.” Narrowing her eyes like a snake, Lucia flicked her fan closed and swung it down on the table with a thunk. “You may be pleased to know that you may now return home. With the greatest regret, I have elected to retreat.”
“And here I thought you’d pounce on us first chance you got. Who plucked out your claws?”
“I might ask you the same thing. I had expected Steissen to set its sights on bigger game.”
Skadi snorted as understanding dawned. Lucia wanted to know why Steissen had chosen to ally with the empire. Perhaps she was even hoping she could convince it to change its mind. Skadi couldn’t fault the attempt, but explaining her reasons would require confessing she had lost a duel to Surtr. She would rather die than admit that, but perhaps she could mix the information she had gotten from him with a little dishonesty. With a little luck, she might learn something in the process.
“Know what this is?” She took another swig of wine and laid her Drakeblade, Tyrfing, on the table.
Lucia cocked her head, regarding it dubiously. “A Noble Blade, by the feel of it. What of it?”
“That it is. You’ve got one yourself, don’t you? A Dharmic Blade, if I remember right. Any chance you know who made ’em?”
“The Lords of Heaven, as every babe in Soleil is aware. The Dharmic Blades in particular were forged by the Faerie King. What is your point?”
“And did you ever see the Faerie King in Vanr?”
Realization filled Lucia’s face. She stared down at her fan, eyes narrowing as if interrogating it. After a moment, a shadow fell over her face.
“He is gone,” she said, gazing at it in astonishment. “Not quite dead, but...Mandala’s power has faded.”
The Dharmic Blade’s strength was dimming, even to Skadi’s eyes. Something had clearly befallen the Faerie King. The beastwoman took another swig of wine and grinned. Lucia had told her everything she needed.
“Finally noticed, eh? Took you long enough.”
Once a Noble Blade chose a master, it would never leave their side. They were as close as family—so close, in fact, that Lucia had never noticed the change in her companion. Mandala’s presence had been so constant, so expected, so unchanged for a thousand years, that her preconceptions had blinded her to the truth.
“Y’know,” Skadi continued, “a little birdie told me something. Heard of the Supreme Dawnblades? The Iron Monarch’s work? Well, he said there ain’t no such thing, not really. What d’you suppose that means?”
She gave Lucia no time to recover. If anything, now was the time to press her for answers, while her head was spinning and her guard was down.
“I might hazard a guess,” Lucia said. “I have never crossed paths with one in Soleil, ’tis true.”
“Well, out with it.” Skadi managed to resist leaning forward, but she couldn’t hide her grin. Like all beastfolk, she wore her heart on her sleeve.
If Lucia noticed, she didn’t remark on it, but she shot the beastwoman a glance and sighed. “As best I know, the Iron Monarch resides on the northern continent, where he holds back the eruption of Mount Vyse. Perhaps calming the mountain demands so much of his power that there is little left to elevate the Dawnblades beyond common steel, if they even still exist at all.”
“Huh. Interesting...”
Skadi nodded to herself, grinning broadly. Her bluff had paid off even better than she had hoped. She had not expected Lucia to be so forthcoming. The fear of losing Mandala must truly have sent her reeling.
“So with all that, I got to thinkin’.”
Lucia arched an eyebrow. “About what?”
“What d’you think?” Skadi slammed the bottle down on the table, scowling. “Don’t seem wise to stake your life on a Noble Blade nowadays. Not when it might give out any second.”
The crisis in the empire presented a tempting opportunity, but there was no guarantee that Steissen or Six Kingdoms were strong enough to exploit it. More to the point, if Skadi’s or Lucia’s Noble Blades were shattered in the battle, they would lose their best means of resisting the Demiurgos. They were both seasoned warriors even without Mandala or Tyrfing, but the loss would be devastating for morale.
“How’d you rate your odds against the Demiurgos in a world without Noble Blades?”
“Poorly, I admit.” Lucia frowned. “So this is why you have thrown your lot in with the empire? Surely their Spiritblade Sovereigns are no less of a threat?”
“Right enough. If they come out on top...well, who knows how things will shake out in the long run, but in the short term, Soleil will be Liz’s for the taking.”
The Spiritblade Sovereigns were not the Spirit King’s work. Uniquely among the Noble Blades, they had been forged by human hands. The exact process was lost to history, and the Spirit King had surely had some part in it given that they were imbued with spirits, but they were likely longer-lived and more durable than the other Lords’ handiwork.
“Still,” Skadi continued, “she can be bargained with. Which is more than I can say for the Demiurgos.”
“And would your beastfolk blood consent to an era under the empire’s thumb?”
“I ain’t gonna let Steissen burn just to keep my pride intact. The next generation can figure out what to do about the empire. Best I can do is leave ’em a strong nation to work with.”
“Indeed. Well, there goes my last hope, I suppose.”
Six Kingdoms would be powerless without Steissen’s assistance. Even Skadi couldn’t smile at that. She poured a goblet full of wine and held it out.
“Care to share a toast?”
“Why not?” Lucia took the goblet. “To a future filled with strife.”
Skadi let out a bark of laughter. “Now that’s the spirit!”
✦ ✦ ✦
