Wartune

  * * *

  The sun had risen long before Debra finally left the dungeon. She had had to call in the mage twice for more healing, but the girl gave her no useful information. Interrogations calmed her, however, and she felt better. More confident. The handmaid was her favorite subject when she was frustrated. The girl had been given a very simple task, to feed an unconscious boy a small vial of liquid. She had believed, of course, that it would cure him. She had stopped part way through because Yannick had awoken. So she claimed, but Debra was not convinced. This had allowed Yannick to escape with the boy.

  To Sikeran, of course. There was nowhere else they could be. It was the one place Debra could not go. Oh, she had tried. She had sent spies and assassins, but none had ever returned to give report.

  Yaloran was not at open war with Sikeran, but there was an uneasy peace. Skirmishes were known to happen along the borders. She had even sent ambassadors, and while they were never killed, they were also never allowed entrance. Much had changed in the years since she had last tried, however. Perhaps it was time to contact them again. War had ravaged many of the nearby kingdoms, and the Sikeran had surely noticed, perhaps now they were open to an alliance.

  Yannick, Alkorn

  Yannick stared longingly at the ale in front of Alkorn, then sighed as his old friend took a drink.

  “I did not expect to see you here. The Sikeran are not generally so open to guests. Though I suppose that is what drew you, as much as it drew me.” Alkorn said, smacking his lips.

  Yannick sighed. “We are not so much guests as patrons,” he replied, “We pay both in gold and experience.”

  “Experience I don’t doubt you have in spades.” Alkorn laughed. “Do you remember when we met those cow-heads at that pub in Dralan? You beat two of them down without spilling a drop of your drink!”

  Yannick laughed as well, “Little help you were, your face planted squarely between that trollops…”

  “Hello boys,” a barmaid approached, “Can I get you anything muscles? Your friend can’t like drinking alone.”

  “I’m fine, lass.”

  The barmaid winked, then wandered off.

  “It has been a long time,” Alkorn continued, “Much has changed in Yaloran since you left.”

  “We get word, once in a while. Debra has...changed.”

  “Perhaps. Or perhaps we were simply blind to her follies, even then. It doesn’t matter, I’ve left the city for now. Something is growing. Something wicked.”

  “So Sophia seems to believe as well. I do not concern myself with such things anymore. My goals are more…direct.” Yannick said.

  “The boy is still alive then? I was not sure. When you left, 10 years ago…”

  “He fought off the worst of the sickness, eventually. I had thought entirely, but now I’m not so sure. It seems it lay something deep within him.”

  “That was him, then, at the square? That was the prince?”

  “The king,” Yannick replied.

  “Debra is weak, now. Weaker than she’s ever been. Her mind is cracking. If you are going to make a move, you must do it soon, or there may not be a country left for him to rule.”

  “We would need an army…” Yannick ventured.

  “No old friend, for that I am sorry. Something important is happening. Something we cannot even imagine, and my soldiers are needed elsewhere.”

  “They are needed in Yaloran.”

  Alkorn stared at Yannick, who eventually averted his gaze.

  “It is more complicated than you understand," Alkorn said finally.

  “Then explain it to me.”

  “You would not believe me.”

  “I have seen wonders today that I could not have imagined.”

  Alkorn took another drink, and pondered. Finally, he shrugged, “I have known a long time that Debra was corrupt. When you first left with the prince… with the king, I could not believe it. But she has made choices that not even incompetence could explain. And she was never incompetent.”

  “Before I left, I was visited by a…seer? A prophetess? I’m not sure what she was, but she gave me a warning. The gods are no longer content to sit and watch us.”

  Yannick tensed, he began to say something, but Yannick interrupted him, “I am not speaking of your goddess. She still sleeps, as far as we can tell, but the others…they wage war on men. You must have heard the recent troubles. The cow-heads are more violent than they’ve ever been. Creatures that have not been seen for centuries, that were believed extinct or myth now roam the world again.”

  “Stories and wives tales.” Yannick snapped.

  “I have seen them, old friend. Creatures of such darkness… when I said you cannot imagine, it was no exaggeration.”

  Yannick glared, but remained silent.

  “There is a tool. I have been told I need it, and so I go to claim it. That is why I cannot help you in Yaloran. Had I known you were here a year ago, that the prince was still alive…but it is too late. My path is set.”

  Yannick looked longingly again at the drink, then sighed. “It does not matter.” He said begrudgingly, “The boy is a coward. He is not fit to wear the crown.”

  “He did well enough today.” Answered Alkorn.

  “One day, one moment in a decade of disappointment. Were that you knew how much I have suffered with him these past ten years…”

  Alkorn took his glass into his hand and stared at it. He took a long, slow drink.

  “Maybe he has not met your expectations. But it seems that you have also been lacking in resolve. Until recently, I expect?”

  Yannick looked ashamed but did not deny it.

  “But you have made steps. You have been tested today, and you have passed, just as the boy did.”

  Alkorn finished his drink.

  “I must go, old friend. We only came to gather supplies, and must leave in the morning. I would have liked to have met the young king, but something tells me I will get the chance.”

  With those final words the two men stood, embraced as only soldiers can, and left the tavern.