Defense

By Aradia

The day was dark and dreary as the slender woman led a troop of soldiers across the land towards the village of Theryl. On her left was her elder brother, on her right rode her Regent. Two hundred soldiers rode behind her in grim silence, the cold wind blowing their dark blue cloaks behind them.

Calypso Starblood studied the horizon, suddenly pulling her stallion to a halt. "Soldiers ahead," she hissed softly. "A contingent eightscore strong." She made no move to prevent the wind from blowing her ivory cloak behind her, the hood of the cloak falling from her face to settle at her shoulders.

Tyneth Stormraiser gestured to one of the scouts, who immediately galloped ahead. "My hope is that they be friends, and not foe," he said softly.

The scout returned minutes later, the contingent behind him. "Friends they be!" he cried. "Friends, my Queen!" As the wind lifted one of the newcomer’s flags, a smile lit Calypso’s face.

"Jaric," she said quietly. Her statement proved to be true as a tall man broke away from the approaching riders, heading straight for the Queen. He was darkly tanned, his dark green eyes filled with a grim joy. Unlike Indiana or Tyneth, this man was heavily muscled, his clothes appearing to have been specially made for a man of his size. His black hair fell to his shoulders, a thin gold band encircling his head.

"Caly," Jaric said by way of greeting as he reached her side. "I heard of the attack on Theryl, and thought to investigate." He took her hand and kissed her cheek with a friendly affection.

"Jaric," she replied with a smile of genuine affection. "Your timing is as impeccable as ever. Shall we ride to Theryl together?"

He chuckled at that. "As a Baron and his Queen, or as friends?"

"Friends."

"I would like that." Baron Jaric motioned to his own soldiers to join the ranks of his former consort’s, and took up a position near her.

The group rode in silence for several hours before coming upon the destroyed village. As the troops looked around in dismay at the evidence of raw savagery, Calypso continued to ride through the village, stopping at the central well.

"Mountain trolls," Jaric finally said, disgust thick in his rich baritone voice. "Only mountain trolls would display such savagery, especially when attacking the helpless." He dismounted and stooped next to the body of a woman whose face lay a few feet away.

Calypso slid off her stallion silently, and crouched near a girl with a slit throat. "Rape and pillage and plunder," she finally whispered. When Indiana crouched near his sister, she gave him a piercing look, then closed her eyes, her hand resting on the girl’s brow.

"Caly, no!" Indiana moved to stop his sister, but found himself restrained by Jaric. "Let me go, Jaric," he snarled. "She’s going to hurt herself!"

"She’s a grown woman, Indy," Jaric said quietly. "She’s a competent mindmage, and she knows what she’s doing."

Indiana snarled at Jaric briefly, a brief flash of resentment and jealousy stabbing through him at this proof of his sister’s closeness with her former consort. Before he could voice his opinion, however, Calypso opened her eyes, the dark brown having shifted into a pure white. She gazed around distantly and vacantly, as though she were looking through another’s eyes. "Caly?" Indiana said hesitantly as Tyneth joined them and crouched near his Queen.

She shuddered violently at her brother’s word, and fell back into Tyneth’s arms with a groan, closing her eyes. "Death and more death," she murmured. "The men were slain in battle. The women and children were slaughtered because of one woman’s words." She frowned slightly, opening her eyes again. "This girl’s older sister became a man’s slave. She’s the only survivor of this village."

"How do you know this?" Tyneth asked curiously. "How did you see all of this?"

"The dead do not die instantly," Calypso replied. "Their minds will continue to record what their eyes see for ten minutes after death. This girl saw the slaughter of the women, and her sister’s enslavement."

Jaric suddenly stiffened and glared at the air. "A wizard, Caly. A wizard with an unusual bloodtaint on their aura."

Calypso’s eyes widened, as did her brother’s. "A warlord," she replied. "A warlord with a bloodtaint unusual to a luchthren prince."

"Lucian Taarene," Indiana hissed. "He did this, didn’t he? He’s the man who enslaved the girl’s sister. He’s the one who did this attack on Theryl. But what I don’t understand is why."

"War." Jaric smiled bitterly. "He’s angry that Caly is the Queen, and he’s trying to start a war with Kettahr."

Calypso reached out and turned the girl facedown, then stood and opened a Gate. "I am going to speak to Leurc Taarene," she announced. "I will return shortly."

"No, you won’t," Indiana snapped. "You’re not going by yourself."

"Indy!" Calypso glared at him. "You are not going to accompany me. You have work to do here." At his inquisitive look, she shrugged. "You three are going to help the soldiers bury these people. I will go by myself, and when I return, I will help as well."

That brought a collective protest from the men, and she sighed, slowly stepping towards the Gate. "Gentlemen, I am not going to change my mind. Besides, I would like to see Zakiyah in private," she added, speaking of the wanderer who had become a close friend of hers.

"You are not going into the Dark Lands by yourself," Jaric interrupted. "It’s too dangerous there."

She snorted in a very unladylike fashion and shrugged. "I’ve been there many times, Jaric, in the last three years. I doubt I’ll run into anyone or anything I cannot handle."

"Except for an enraged and war-hungry warlord who is bitter that his lust for you will remain unchecked," Indiana muttered softly.

Not softly enough. Calypso whirled on her brother, her eyes black with anger. "Watch your tone, Prince," she said dangerously. "Lucian Taarene is a wizard; I am a mage. He is too subjective; I am not. He thinks I will bend over backwards and crumple under this one attack; I will not."

"You don’t have his rage, my Queen," he snarled at her, matching her formality. "You don’t have an unquenchable lust for him that he would not satisfy. He is older than you, and is not the wizard novice Leurc Taarene would have had you believe three years ago. He does not expect you to flee at this sign of war; he expects you to retaliate. He doesn’t want you to crumple; he wants to defeat you."

She opened her mouth, then shut it again angrily. "Then he will be bitterly disappointed, Prince." She jerked around and strode through the Gate, shutting it behind her. Leaving the three men behind.

"Anyone ever tell you that you have a big mouth?" Jaric asked Indiana mildly. "That wasn’t the most brilliant thing you’ve ever done."

Indiana glowered at Jaric and strode off towards the soldiers without comment. Tyneth looked both pained and amused, and simply started turning all of the dead women and children facedown, Jaric soon assisting him.

A Gate blazed into existence outside of Leurc Taarene’s castle, then swirled shut again as Calypso strode out of it and into Leurc’s throne room. The Dark King looked up with raised brows at her unannounced arrival, then rose and gave her a slight bow. "I daresay you haven’t come to answer my marriage proposal," he said lightly.

That brought her to a dead stop in her tracks. "Excuse me?" she asked, her eyes wide with shock.

Leurc smiled at her, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. "Of course not. You would never lower yourself to a luchthren, after all. Not with your lofty standards." He sat in his throne again, swinging his legs over the arm. "So how may I be of assistance this day? I assume you’ve come to see Zakiyah, but she is indisposed today."

"Oh?"

"Mmmm. She is rather busy cleaning out the dungeons since she refuses to dress properly for dinner." Leurc shrugged with one shoulder. "So how may I be of assistance?"

"I would speak to Lucian, then."

"You wound me, nymph," he said with exaggerated feeling. "I offer twice to assist you in any way, and you would rather speak to Zakiyah or my brother."

She pursed her lips in annoyance. "Zakiyah is my friend, and your brother will die."

"Will he?" Before Leurc could say anymore, Zakiyah bounded into the throne room, dirty and infuriated.

"Leurc, ye cretin!" she snapped. "Why didn’ ye tell me that there’re real prisoners down there in th’ dungeons?"

"Zakiyah," the Dark King replied with great patience, "I do believe that your logic is failing you again. What did you expect to find in my dungeons? Scarecrows?"

"By th’ looks of some of ‘em, they’d be scarin’ a lot more’n crows," she snorted before turning to Calypso and engulfing her in a hug. "Caly, tell Leurc that ‘e shouldn’ be lockin’ people in dark pits fer life."

Calypso returned the hug. "Zakiyah, I would not dream of telling Leurc how to run his kingdom, such as it is. I came to see how you were faring, and to see if I could return to Aerialen with Lucian’s head."

"What’d the big oaf do now?"

She met Leurc’s eyes. "Attacked one of my villages without provocation, and took the sole survivor as a slave."

Zakiyah and Leurc stared at Calypso in disbelief. "How d’ye know this, Caly?" Zakiyah finally inquired.

"A warlord with an unusual bloodtaint on his aura, a taint that I’ve encountered before. Indy and I both sensed it, as did Jaric."

"And that makes it my brother?" Leurc was furious, but kept his temper under wraps.

"Your brother is the only warlord I know who has that same taint as the one that stains the village. A warlord wizard used his magicks to kill the village magistrate. And mountain trolls decimated the village and slaughtered the people." Calypso met his gaze squarely, her temper equally apparent.

"Well, nymph, I regret to inform you I’ve not seen Lucian for the last week. What would you like me to do if I do see him?" Leurc’s tone was lazy.

"Send his head to me on a silver platter."

He gave her a hunter’s smile, knowing her answer. "Marry me by your people’s traditions first."

"Over my dead body," she retorted, her eyes flashing. "We cannot stand to be in the same room without an argument; how do you expect any marriage to last an eternity?"

"Caly! Leurc!" Zakiyah interrupted hastily. "There’s no need t’ be arguin’. It’s doubtful that Leurc will kill his own brother, so don’ be ‘specting him to deliver Lucian’s head, marriage or not. But Caly’s right ‘bout th’ war thingie; if Lucian did attack th’ village, then ye can ‘spect her t’ kill ‘im for it."

"Zakiyah," Leurc said mildly after a moment of silence, "please leave us." She looked like she was going to protest, but when Leurc gave her a threatening look, she finally retreated. He rose from his throne with a feline grace and strode over to where Calypso stood, raising a hand and stroking her thick dark hair. "Zakiyah is right; I will not kill my brother. This is a battle between you and him, a battle which I will stay out of. There is no reason why I should be involved in the battle that he started and you intend to finish."

Calypso smacked his hand away, her eyes mutinous. "He started this conflict because I would not swoon at his feet every time he made clumsy references to his state of unyielding lust," she snapped.

A wry smile curved Leurc’s mouth. "I suspect you are correct in that as well. I will still not become involved in this. If you want him to leave you alone, perhaps you should take him as your lover during your next heat cycle."

"I’d rather take an orc as a lover." She paused a moment. "Not that there is that much difference." She gave him a slight bow. "Keep your words in mind, Leurc Taarene. This is between your brother and me, not you and Zakiyah and Lucian and myself." Before he could answer, she turned and slipped out the room.

Five hours later, Lucian strode into the throne room, but stopped in his tracks, sniffing the air. "She was here, wasn’t she?"

"She wants your head, Lucian," Leurc answered. "And she’ll take mine if I become involved." He paused a moment, tilting his head. "You’re a fool to make an enemy of her, Lucian. She’s not as weak as you think, and she has Kreyner of Garul as her sire."

"That means nothing, if it is true. She’s still a woman." Lucian shrugged, positive that he would defeat her. He’d already launched the first attack, and several others were under way as he spoke. He had planned for this moment for years. He would not fail. Failure was not an option.

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