Vengeance of the Dragon Queen

Chapter 3

  Jarrath stood looking over the parade grounds where some 30,000 troops paraded for the Emperor, His Holiness and guests from the two remaining independent nations, once a year for the past ten years they have had these stupid parades. Supposedly to promote peace and harmony, but the truth is something darker. Ten years ago Naran started to hear hints that Delle, the High Priest of Marduk was plotting a rebellion, at the time the nation was on the verge of yet another conquest of the last two remaining independent nations; Aruin to the north and Berint to the east. Previously these two nations had been left alone for so long due to their placement, and the fact any conquest would be complicated and both costly in time and men.
    Aruin, to the north, surrounded by a mountain chain that is only passable for a few months a year, since the only pass is high up in the mountains. The only other way to Aruin is a long journey by sea, literally having to go half way around the known world to get there, impossibility with the current level of ships the Empire had. As a result Jarrath and Naran had decided to leave them alone until they had solved a bigger, more dangerous problem.
    Berint, an island nation that has built up an extremely strong navy as well as an even stronger standing army, the problem with the army lay in its composition, undead. Over ninety percent of the army is made up of corpses. Berint is a nation of necromancers, in battle they start off with an average sized army, but each death added to their ranks. The only way to stop them is with the clerical arts, since hacking them to bits only offers a brief respite.
    The other problem lay in the fact that Berint was less than a three day sea voyage away, and there had already been skirmishes at sea, raiding of merchant shipping mostly. Initially the plan was to focus on Berint, and leave Aruin alone, however when it became apparent that Delle was planning something, all plans had to be put on hold. Naran sent emissaries to both nations inviting them to talks of peace. Both nations accepted, reluctantly. The result though, paid off, a full peace treaty as well as trade contracts were established. The Empire was in the perfect place for acting as a go between for both the other nations, and became a sort of trade centre. Millions of sovereigns landed in the nation’s coffers as a result. Not to mention the strategic and information gains, not just on building better ships, but also on mountain survival, necromancy and weapons craft.
    Once a year the three nations came together for a month of parades and talks, discussions on the past years trade as well as on future trade contracts. Prisoner exchanges would also take place, as well as various martial competitions.
    Oddly, despite the influences from both the nations, the Empire had remained pure to its ideology and beliefs. On the surface it looked as though they were accepting new things, but it was nothing more than a thin veneer just waiting to be removed. It was not to be much longer before it was finally removed. All the information Jarrath's agents had recovered of late indicated that Delle would make his move shortly. Once he did he would be removed and executed for treachery and heresy, then they could turn their attentions elsewhere.
    Jarrath let his gaze wander, taking in the wonderful sight that the city was. Marrath'ar Citadel is a one of a kind citadel. Constructed by Marduk himself and designated as the centre of the world. The citadel is in truth a mountain; the city is built both across it, as well as within. While the residents lived on the surface, the military, the back bone of the Empire, live within it. At the heart of the mountain are the hidden areas, those that entered never returned...alive.
    Jarrath struggled to repress a smile as he thinks of Delle within the heart of the citadel, the tortures he would endure before he would finally purged in volcanic fire. "Just a little while longer, then you'll be mine to toy with." he thought to himself "I wonder how long I can keep you alive. The longest I've kept someone alive is six weeks." The smile he had been trying to repress suddenly broke through; "Of course you won't be sane anymore when we finally purify you."
    Quickly suppressing the rising urge to kill Jarrath looked over the parade again, all pleasure leeched away. He despises these events, he's not a diplomat he's a soldier, and prefers the battle field over these tedious events.
    "My Lord, I've returned," The soft voice lower than a whisper came seemingly out of nowhere. Jarrath frowns, but continues to watch the parade,
    "Since you're interrupting me here rather than waiting till I return to my chambers you failed, yes?" His voice is quiet, cold, and deadly. Watching the parade he absently clenched the hilt of the kodachi that hung from his waist.
    "With regret, I must report my failure. However circumstances were not as reported. Nor could they have been anticipated." Grimacing, Jarrath looked over to Naran, after a few moments thought he nodded slightly.
    "Return to my quarters, I'll be there shortly. Your report had best be good to make up for your failure." Without waiting for a reply he moved towards Naran and whispered in his ear, "The guide has returned, sadly he lost his way and lost his charge."
    Naran nodded, then whispers back, "I do not tolerate failure Jarrath, not ever. You know what must be done, see to it as always my friend." Nodding, Jarrath moved from the Emperors box, cognisant of Delle's frowning gaze on his back. Naran however answered the gaze, "I'm sorry gentlemen, but it seems a security matter has arisen. While it has been resolved, my Commander is a cautious man and likes to make sure nothing will happen to our guests. Please forgive the rudeness of his departing early, and let us return to watching the parade. I must say Ambassador Se'tu that your mages are truly amazing. I have never..."
    As Jarrath moved off Naran's voice fades away to nothing, lost in the music of the parade and the stomp of men and rumble of machine. All the while he could feel the gaze of Delle; it followed him till he was lost from sight.
    Moving through the citadel he paused for a moment and looked at the two statues that guard the main gates; on the left hand side, himself, and on the right, Naran. However no statue could ever exude the deadly calm Naran does. Standing over seven feet tall, Naran is the tallest man Jarrath has ever met. He speaks with a calm politeness that is unnerving because of its politeness. Naran has never raised his voice, nor has he ever lost his temper, the epitome of control. His black hair is close cropped, with the exception of his warriors band which hangs down his left side. His eyes are colourless; no one can meet his gaze for long; muscular and powerfully built, and immortal.
    Jarrath however is the opposite, short at just under five feet, wiry and agile, with strength disproportionate to his size. His voice drips with maliciousness, and his eyes are filled with a burning desire to kill and main. His colourless hair hangs in a braid down his back, weighted at the end by a lead ball. When in battle he'd control the ball of lead with simple head movements, resulting in an extra weapon.
    A few minutes later he reached a painting depicting the fall of Tiamat at the hands of Marduk. Moving forward he all but ignores the painting and seemed to be walk into a wall, but he passed through the painting onto a small rectangular landing. Stepping off onto the top step of the stairs he stops, pulls a sheaf of parchment from his cloak and starts to read. Slowly, the step he stood on starts to descend into the depths. "Delle is still not making his move, he wasn't always this cautious, hmm." Leafing through the reports he paused on one. "Frell, when did this happen." Pulling the report to the front of the pile he read it in full.
    "Hmmm Delle hired a mercenary guild, interesting. So that's why he's suddenly become more concise and careful. We need to find out which guild he hired, and get around them somehow. Strange though, none of the guilds within the Empire should work for him, they're under orders not to. At a guess they're probably from either Aruin or Berint. This could be bad..."
    The step reached the bottom of the stairs and he moved off heading down the dark corridor, the only light coming from small recesses every hundred rods, though it barely relieves the dark. After near half a glass of walking he reached and passed through a door, stepping into a room that is only marginally brighter than the corridor. Ignoring the opulence of the office, he moved to the desk and began reading the report again.
    "Speak, and it had best be good." Jarrath's voice is cold, dangerous, and dripped with maliciousness. Yet he continued to read the report, frowning occasionally over its contents. Seemingly out of nowhere a soft voice replies.
    "My Lord, as you instructed I sent two units after Brother Ma'Shen. Just to be on the safe side I sent the Royal Guards to secure his quarters and anything he may have left. What we found confirmed he was researching not only the Blasted Lands, but also their religion and language. From documents he'd tried to burn, we've learnt he plans to try and enter the Lands."
    Jarrath grimaced at this, "Be that as it may," he growled, "You've not said anything yet that would mitigate your failure."
    "Brother Ma'Shen is not who he seems to be, we later learnt that he is fact a survivor of the Ryu Clan. As you are aware My Lord, their abilities, are different from humans, as such all of our preparations were for naught. He passed through our net. However we know where he's headed, I've sent the two units to cover the entrances into the Blasted Lands, and he’ll be killed as soon as he tries to cross." The voice falls silent and waits.
    Jarrath rose from the desk and moves to the wall, and examined a sword hanging there. "No, no, we can't have you killing him now. Your report changes things considerably, capture him alive and return him here along with any possessions he has. Hmmm, I also want you to bring in the priest that recruited and trained him for questioning. Naturally, Delle will not be apprised of this." Lifting the blade off the stand, he held it, enjoying the weight in his hand. "Go, and do not fail this time. I'm allowing you this second chance because it was bad information that caused your failure. But do not think I will allow a second, consider all possibilities"
    Moving back to the desk he rests the sword on top of the papers, and reached for one of two small bells. Picking up the closest one he rang it twice, yet no sound came from it. Placing it back beside its counterpart he returned to his seat and waited. A few minutes later a man entered, "Your orders My Lord."
    Jarrath continued to stare at the sword, and replied absently. "Summon Lord Sande, also Lem Suldor, I want to see them both together." He dismissed the man with a wave of his hand.
    A glass later two men entered, one standing erect, clearly intimidated by the surroundings and the man in front of him, but trying to hide it; the other leisurely moved into the room, lounged in one of the opulent chairs, and placed his feet on the small table. "You better have a damn good reason for summoning me to come down to this pathetic place. I'm a very busy man you know. It reeks down here worse than an open sewer."
    Rising, Jarrath moved and sat on the edge of the table looking at the sitting man. "How many of the Ryu Clan are within the Empire?" Jarrath's voice is colder, calmer than usual.
    Rising, the man started to head for the door, "How many times have we had this pointless discussion, the Ryu Clan no longer exist" Jarrath smiled and his eyes flash with murderous intent. Swiftly he reaches behind him, grabbed the sword and threw it. The blade entered the man's left shoulder, the force lifting him from his feet and carried him to the wall where it embedded itself deep within it. He roared in pain and reached for the hilt, but not before Jarrath grabbed it, and drew the blade out slowly. The man slumped to the floor clutching his shoulder, blood coursing from between his fingers clutched over the wound.
    Gasping in agony, the man looked up at Jarrath, "T-This is a-assault on one of the E-emperors own." He glared at Jarrath rage for the moment overcoming the pain. "You have no right to assault me; I’m one of the Emperors chosen Ministers!" Jarrath turns, and slowly walks back to his chair. The other man stood still, rigid, looked anywhere and everywhere, except for where the blood was.
    Lifting the second of the two bells he rang it once. Again no sound came from it, and it is barely placed back in its place before the door opened and in walked five guards. He nodded to the bloody man on the floor, "He's to be taken to One, tell him to use any means he needs to extract all information possible from him. However he's not to kill him." Turning back to the man who now sits stunned on the floor, he smiles evilly.
    "As of now, Lord Sande no longer exists, nor do your family or children. If they're unlucky your wife and daughters will be given to the barracks whore house, your sons will be castrated and given over as gladiators where they'll spend the rest of their lives hacking each other to pieces for our enjoyment. However, depending on how cooperative you are of course, we'll be merciful, and your family will be allowed to quietly end their lives, and be buried with the citadel. It's all up to you."
    Smiling at the look of defeat on the Lord's face he waved, dismissing the guards. Grabbing Sande by the scruff of his neck they unceremoniously dragged him from the room, leaving a pool of blood and smeared trail behind them.
    Jarrath looks to the other man for the first time, "Sit." His voice is soft, yet commanding, and Lem eases himself into the chair indicated, and swallows. Jarrath chuckled, relishing in the man's fear, "Don't worry, you're not going the same way as that idiot...well, not yet at least." Rifling through the papers he picks up the report saying that Delle had recruited a mercenary guild, and passed it to Lem. "I believe this is your report, is it not." Lem picks it up and quickly looks through it. Swallowing his fear he answers, "Y-yes my Lord."
    "Do you have any information on the guild hired, or are you just speculating due to the change in Delle's behaviour?" Leaning back in his chair, Jarrath watched him closely.
    "No my Lord, I-I used my contacts within the Temple. They confirmed that a large mercenary guild had been contracted, also their leader is supposedly an exceptional general, with a strange accent." Jarrath nodded, thoughtful for a moment.
    "Where did this guild come from? None of the guilds in the Empire would work for them, after we told them not to. So where did they get a mercenary guild..." The last was more of a whisper, a question to himself.
    "From Berint My Lord," Lem falteringly answered the question, hoping he won't be executed for overstepping his boundaries.
    "Ohhh" Jarrath looked at him, "Are you certain of this? What evidence have you?"
    "None substantial my Lord, however if you look at the all the small parts of the puzzle it can only be put together this way. If you wish I can return to my office and collect my findings for you?" He began to rise to head to his quarters, hoping to get out of the room a little quicker.
    "That won't be necessary, just give me the bare facts" Trying to suppress a grimace, Lem sat back down again, took a few moments to compose himself and began.
    "The men appear to have arrived over the mountain pass; however the guards there have not reported such a large number of men. Of course it is possible that they could have been bribed, yet my investigation hasn't revealed anything like this. The only option that makes sense is that they came over by an unknown pass. Or possibly the sea route, landed and went up one of the lesser used paths that join the main one, and then came down again. I'm inclined to say it's the latter rather than the former." He shuffled uncomfortably, aware that Jarrath's gaze was fixed upon him. "One of my contacts was able to find their camp and examined their baggage trains. He felt that given the items they were carrying the sea route was the only possible option"
    Looking at Lem Jarrath smiled softly, listening to his report he considered the man. An interesting fellow, from what he's said he's built himself quite an intelligence network. I was aware he had extended family in the Temple, which is why I've not used him till now. Couldn't fully judge where his loyalties lay. However, he could be a good find.
    "Then there's the equipment itself My Lord. The build, materials and craftsmanship are all Berint. While it's true that these could possibly be bought through back channels...I find it hard to believe an entire guild could be outfitted that way, the cost would be astronomical." He pauses for a minute, frowning, wondering whether to tell all he suspects. Jarrath notices his pauses, and guesses the reason behind it.
    "Speak you mind man, Nothing you say about this matter will be overlooked or discounted." Still looking a bit nervous, he carries on. "I suspect that they may in fact not be a guild, but rather a battalion of the Royal Berint Army."
    "What’s your basis for this?" Jarrath's voice is calm and collected, but a slight tightness around his eyes belied his concern over this revelation. Since it was one aspect he hadn't considered.
    "The way the men behave my lord, and again, their equipment, firstly the equipment, while it's true that the armour and weapons are of the same build as Berint's; they're also brand new. At a guess I'd say when they set off from their staging area the armour and weapons were no more than a few weeks to a few months old. Most of the weapons are still in their protective wraps, emblazed with Berint's Quartermasters Seal. My contact was able to acquire one and is sending it to me; though it has yet to arrive I’m afraid." Pausing, he looked up and then quickly away, as Jarrath's eyes seem to be boring into him. "Se-secondly there's the men's behaviour. Over ninety percent of them stand. Nothing else, they don't eat, drink sleep or move. They simply stand in formation twenty four hours a day."
    Jarrath nodded, and then smiled. "An undead mercenary guild, I never expected Berint to get this far or this actively involved." Opening a draw he pulls out a piece of parchment and began writing. Lem sat waiting, to terrified to move or speak. After a few minutes Jarrath dropped the quill on its stand, and seals the parchment with his ring. Rising he moved around the desk and dropped the parchment in front of Lem.
    "That parchment makes you a Lord. I've also given you a new name, Jar'ent. As of now you're Lord Jar'ent Lem, head of both the Interior and Exterior Intelligence Ministries. I've wanted to merge those two departments for a while, and with that fool's demise I'm able to do so." Returning to his seat he rested his chin on the backs of his bridged hands "You have two jobs to be getting on with. Firstly, read up on the truth behind the Ryu Clan, with the authority you have now you can access the library. Once you're done with that I need you to find out how many of the Ryu clan are within the Empire. Find out how far they've infiltrated. Secondly, find out more about that mercenary guild compile a concise report to be presented to the Emperor."
    Reaching into the draw again he took out a ring and passed it towards Lem. "That ring is proof you answer to me, so long as you wear it no one will hinder you. However if you ever abuse the authority, well, let's just say that Sande's fate will seem like paradise." Leaning back in his chair he stares at Lem intently, "Any questions?" Lem was about to ask something, but suddenly realised that 'any questions' didn't really mean to ask questions, it was a way of saying he couldn't do anything about it.
    "No My Lord, I'll get started right away." He rose, bowed slightly, and then turned and hurriedly left.
    Reaching into the draw again he pulled out more parchment and for the next glass wrote in silence. After he finished he read them through. The first is a warrant removing Sande from his post, as well as striping him of all his rites and titles. The second, an arrest warrant for the Sande family, all the women were to be handed over to the barracks whore house; and men under 16 were too be turned over to the gladiatorial school and those over to be handed over to the fire mines.
    Leaning back in the chair he closed his eyes, "Naran, we need to talk. Berint seems to behind Delle's recent actions, as well as providing him with military and logistical support. Also it seems that some of the Ryu Clan survived and are on the move within the Empire."
    "Very well, once this facade is over I'll join you in your quarters." Leaning forward he rings the first bell on his desk, a few minutes later a man entered, and waits. "I'm returning to my quarters, have the mess cleaned up and the wall repaired by the time I return." The man bowed deeply and departed. After a few minutes thought he rose, and headed for his quarters, 4 floors below his office. Once there he lay on a divan and enjoyed a glass of wine served by his slave. Looking over at her he contemplated selling her off; she had been with him for six months and was bored of her. There was no fun in having a cowed slave right from the outset. The fun was in breaking them of their spirit.
    With closed eyes he lay back on the divan, glass in hand, and waited for his friend to arrive.