Chương 42: 41. A Plea to the Houses

Tavian please, help me. Tavian gasped in pain, returning to an awareness of the kitchen. Shona stirred a pot over the kitchen fire. Calli pressed the miasma condenser into his side. He pushed Calli back, and she sprawled on the floor, clutching the miasma condenser gingerly.

"Hey!" she shouted indignantly.

"What was that?" Tavian reached to his side, his hands coming away slick with blood. The wound burned like he'd just been cut. A black haze surrounded the cut in his side. She hadn't drained all the miasma out yet. He exhaled slowly.

"Tavian, you need to let me finish draining the miasma!" Tavian grabbed a clean cloth, pressed it to his bleeding wound.

"Oh, not my good towels!" Shona moaned when she saw the blood. Tavian looked at Calli and her miasmic condenser. He thought about Valliroth's accusations. He didn't want to be a tool of the darkness. But if it gave him a chance to potentially save Cormath, didn't he have to take it?

"Calli," Tavian said.

"I just saw... I think… Cormath is still alive down there. We need to rescue him!"

"But Tavian," she said, approaching with the condenser again. She looked worried. Like she was afraid Tavian wasn't thinking for himself.

"No," Tavian said.

"It's giving me a connection. A connection to Cormath. I might be able to learn more. To find out where he is."

"Tavian, it's dangerous," Calli said.

"I don't want it to take you over."

"We'll just drain it if it spreads too far," Tavian said, rising. He pressed the bloodied cloth to his side.

"Ouch, this hurts. I need a bandage or something." Shona brought over a dish of stewed vegetables and meats. Tavian sampled it cautiously, then began cramming his mouth full.

"Probably shouldn't take food from a woman I just whipped," Tavian said.

"But it's good enough that I don't care if it's poisoned!" Shona laughed, a deep, hearty laugh, and Tavian smiled.

"Try some, Calli," he said, pushing the plate toward her. Calli reluctantly sampled a bit, then shrugged her shoulders in defeat. Shona was quite good at cooking. They polished off the dish, and Tavian made to leave.

"I'll go find Alisa and see if she'll get me a better bandage. Can I take this towel?" He nodded toward the bloody rag held to his side.

"It's ruined already," Shona said.

"I don't want it back." As Tavian rose, he placed a hand on the table. His fingers brushed against the hilt of one of the black daggers. Tavian. The voice spoke in his mind. It was distant, and muted, but still there. I have your swordmaster. Come visit me, and I'll give him back to you. Tavian snatched his hand away from the sword. Tavian had just seen Cormath; the man had appeared to be hiding, sneaking. He didn't seem to be a captive. Was the vision lying? Or the voice?

Tavian stood atop the watch tower, arms crossed as he focused on his system interface. Before he could go underground and search the dungeon for Cormath, he needed to stabilize on the surface. He needed to be sure that his kingdom wasn't going to fall apart. ⬣ Kingdom Status ⬣ Core Essence Tiles Claimed Influence 364 326 1.

1 ⬣ Kingdom Population: 187 ⬣ ⬣ [Ruler] Stats ⬣ Class Tier Magic Constitution Strength [Ruler] III 2 5 0 ⬣ Spells: [Extract], [Projectile I] ⬣ ⬣ Perks: Hexsight, Map Maker, Binding Oath, Mandate, Appraising Eye ⬣ Vanal was doing a good job holding the core essence level steady, so far, but the longer this went on, the harder it would be to find extractable goods with a suitable yield. One of Tavian's [Scouts] was up here. He'd assigned three more, at a cost of 1 essence per class assignment, so now he had six.

They worked in rotations, so that someone was always in the tower keeping watch, keeping Tavian's system map up to date. This one was a girl, about twelve. She'd saluted him clumsily when he'd arrived. Now she watched him cautiously out of the corner of her eye, like a nervous, cornered animal. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"We don't both need to be up here," he said.

"Go on, take a break. When I come down you can go back up." She ran off, relieved. Tavian examined his map again. The Map Maker perk allowed tiles that were not immediately adjacent to his own to show up on the map, as long as he (or someone with the perk) looked at them. It did not tell him what influence level Anarvia had, though. Tavian could only assume that Anarvia's influence was increasing, what with the looting the ghouls were doing in the city below. Ghouls didn't need loot.

Why else would they be ransacking buildings and houses? It hurt him to see the destruction of the city he loved. From up here in the tower, looking at the map, he could reduce it to a simple tactical problem. He didn't have to think about the streets he'd once walked, the people he'd once known. Instead, he focused on the tactical problem. Anarvia was edging toward another surround of Tavirost Fortress.

Tavian could see that much clearly; the way that the man was claiming tiles, keeping his distance, but slowly wrapping arms around Tavian's home. An embrace of death. The encirclement was coming. It was slow, yes, but it was thorough. Anarvia wasn't using thin salients this time, which Tavian could sever. He knew exactly what his enemy was doing, and was powerless to stop it. And yet, Tavian was confused. Why was he moving so slowly? Was there something wrong with his core, preventing him from firming up control?

He had his army of ghouls; there had to be at least two or three thousand of them on the streets of the city now. That was around 5 whole banners of men. Even with the defenses of Tavirost, Tavian wouldn't last more than a few days. Maybe he was having problems with the other Houses. They would be furious about the ghouls, and the destruction of the Temple. Or could there be another reason that Anarvia was holding back? From everything Tavian could see, Anarvia should be moving quickly to quash Tavian.

But he wasn't. Tavian wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He needed more resources. As he watched the city, he noticed one thing that was strange to him. A warehouse, down by the docks, which he'd thought belonged to Lord Brask drew his attention. It had a constant stream of carts running to it. Tavian couldn't tell exactly where these carts were headed, because they disappeared among the buildings and rolling hills.

Judging by their general trajectory, they seemed to be going back to the Anarvian compound. Tavian guessed that whatever they were carting back to the compound was being sifted for essence, giving Anarvia the power he needed to continue expanding across the city. Did that mean that Brask had allied with Anarvia? Or had Anarvia seized the warehouse from him? Tavian was frustrated that none of the other houses had gotten in contact with him. He decided it was time to take matters into his own hands.

Fit men of fighting age were in short supply in the fortress, and Tavian didn't want to send large portions of his force out into the city. The solution, though he didn't like it, was apparent. He was going to have to use pages. Tavian located Goren, remembering how afraid the boy had looked when he'd found him the night of the coup. Now he carried himself with an arrogant confidence, that only a thirteen year old could muster.

"My lord," Goren said, with a bow.

"We are at your service." Tavian smiled at the boy, and at the woman seated behind him. Though some of the household staff had moved into the nicer, abandoned rooms at the top of the keep, Goren and his grandmother were still living in their rooms of the servants quarters.

"Your parents?" Tavian asked.

"Dead in the plague, when I was a child," Goren said, dismissively.

"I care for my nan now." He puffed out his chest, like he was a grown man. Tavian pursed his lips. He didn't feel sure he could proceed with his plan. The boy was so young. He could simply send soldiers. Six young men, who could ride horses… But he needed every soldier to defend the fortress. And pages were light. They could move faster on horse back than grown men. He needed these boys. They were his best choice.

"You can ride?" Tavian asked. Goren nodded.

"I won the springtime races this year." It was their best chance of getting a message out, though.

"Gather five of the fastest pages, and meet me at the stables. I have a task for you." Goren nodded and ran off down the hall. Tavian glanced at the old woman as he turned to leave.

"Wait, my lord," she called to him.

"Will you return my grandson to me? He's all I have left in the world." Tavian crossed his arms.

"I cannot promise his safety." Tavian met Goren and the five other pages at the stables. Horses snorted and pawed at the ground, recognizing that something was afoot. These boys were young enough that they couldn't yet fight shoulder to shoulder with the men, but they were old enough to be trusted with a difficult task. And they were light, which, on horseback, meant speed.

"It will be dangerous," Tavian explained.

"They will try to kill you."

"We're the fastest riders in the fortress," one of the boys said.

"They won't catch us."

"Good," Tavian said.

"But what I really need are the fastest riders in Tar Corinath!"

"We can do it," Goren said.

"Leave it to us. We still have good horses in the stables."

"Very well," Tavian said.

"I need to know the conditions of the other Houses. Are they siding with Anarvia? Are they under attack? If you can't safely get through, then don't try. But if you can, deliver this message for me." He handed out six parchments, each containing a similar message.

"Two of you will go to Brask, two to Calenor, and two to Donath." The boys jockeyed around a bit before they settled on who would go to each house.

"We need food, siftables, men, anything they can provide," Tavian said.

"And," he pointed at the two boys going to Donath, "if Lady Donath offers you food, you eat quickly, and bring some back for us, understood?" The boys nodded seriously, stowing the messages in pouches.

"I'm going to give you something else, too," Tavian said. He didn't have the essence to spare, not to give them the classes that they deserved for their bravery. But he couldn't let them ride out there totally unprotected. He spent 6 essence, giving each boy the [Fortify I] class.

"This will help you ride longer, and heal more quickly from injuries." As the boys accepted the classes, each one seemed to glow briefly in Tavian's eyes. They straightened, walking taller, prouder, and began preparing their steeds. Tavian saw the boys off, mounted on their horses. They opened the gate and slipped out. From the wall, Tavian watched them gallop along the streets, heading in different directions. Ghouls caught sight of them and began the pursuit.

Horses whinnied, and the boys leaned low, spurring their mounts forward. Ghoul screams would attract more ghouls. Tavian's heart pounded in his chest, and he hoped they would come back safely. He realized that he didn't even know all their names. Tavian continued watching. Calenor and Brask's homes both lay down in the city, between the docks and the fortress. Tavian caught glimpses of his messengers, riding hard between the buildings in the distance. The other two boys, heading for Donath, had gone the other way.

Donath's home lay over the ridge, down in the fertile valley where he managed thousands of acres of farmland, and provided most of the city's food. All his messengers disappeared from sight. He could do nothing now, but wait.

"I want to know the instant you see any sign of those boys," Tavian said to the men manning the gate.

"And I mean the instant!"

"Yes, my lord," the soldiers said, saluting. He checked the position of the sun. Callie had asked him to meet at the Coresmith's Workshop at midday. The sun had already reached its highest point, and was beginning to dip. He'd better go see what she wanted.