“And once again, I say I have no idea. I’m at a complete loss. The Knights are determined to rescue Talarius and seek vengeance and I — we — have a responsibility not to lose any more knights. So we must explore this option.”
“You will keep me informed of what you find in Keeper’s City? I find it very hard to trust the Oorstemothians,” Iskerus said.
“Church lawyers are confident of the Rod’s safety in Keeper’s City and our right to leave Keeper’s City, regardless of whether an agreement can be reached. We just need to verify that they can do what they claim they can do. Once that is done, it is an entirely different document for the joint resolution of whatever the hell flimflam they call it. Which again Church lawyers will relentlessly scour. Further, if we did do a joint mission, we would have our own lawyers with us to negotiate any disputes of interpretation that may arise.”
“Fine then. Your men will take the gateway to Hoggensforth in the morning, and then make sail for Keeper’s City in the evening.”
“Yes. We will station the remainder of the men we are withdrawing from here outside Hoggensforth, in preparation for whatever comes of the next round of negotiation, or whatever happens when the wards are lowered here,” Barabus said.
“I guess we are set then.” Iskerus shook his head, standing up.
“And Ruiden?” Barabus asked.
Iskerus shrugged. “I have not seen him today. I believe he has taken his investigation into the city.”
“And the city and palace guards are fine with a walking sword wandering around?” Barabus asked.
“It appears he took a ring of invisibility from Talarius’s arcane armory,” Iskerus said. “I had a brother keeping an eye on him and at one point, after exiting the burnt remains of Talarius’s tent, the sword vanished into thin air.”
Barabus raised his hands slightly as if pleading to Tiernon. “A magical sword wearing a magical ring?” He sighed. “I think I have now heard everything.”
Iskerus chuckled. “We are certainly living in interesting times.”
“I’m ready to go back to some boring times,” Barabus groused, shaking his head.
“I will second you on that,” Iskerus said, raising his hand in a farewell gesture as he moved towards the tent flap. “I will leave you to make your final rounds, so you can get some sleep for tomorrow.” He walked to the doorway. Looking back before exiting, he said, “And if you do reach an agreement for the next phase? Please do not feel obligated to invite me along.” Iskerus turned and left as Barabus chuckled.
“Excellent,” Tom said, realizing he had to say something. He needed to think fast. “We have much work to do.” He was making this up as he went along; he needed time to regroup. Looking down the dais at the demoness, he noted that there were stairs leading up from the platform to the dais. “You, all of you, have permission to be at ease. You may look at me. You are warriors, yes? Stand tall, stand proud.”
A ripple of something — relief, perhaps — seemed to circulate among the crowd. Zelda stood and looked at him proudly, and Tom thought, quite happily. Tom looked back at the throne; he needed to sit down, to think. It was a rather odd chair with what appeared to be two backs: the normal back he had seen from behind and then an inner back made of posts. He suddenly realized that the inner posts were actually cutouts for his wings. There was also a tail slot and a rather conveniently shaped seat. Tom turned and stepped up onto the throne and sat down, carefully fitting his wings between the posts. It really was surprisingly comfortable.
He placed his rod into the stand, its pointed end neatly fitting into the base. The world spun. Tom’s head was suddenly reeling as the staff to which he was intimately connected immediately merged into the throne, into the dais, into the platform, into the volcano! He could actually feel, sense the entire mountain region. The volcano, the caverns. His mind was able to trace every corridor, every room, every trap, every watch point. He had to close his eyes, it was so overwhelming. For the moment, he was the entire mountain range.
He released his grip on the rod and the feelings eased. He was still linked to the rod and thus to everything else, but the immediacy receded. He shook his head to clear it. Several of the D’Orcs laughed and others clapped. Clearly, they had known or suspected what would happen. “Well, that is something,” Tom said. Many other D’Orcs laughed at that.
“Our lord has now completely reestablished his dominion?” Zelda asked.
“I’m connected to it. I may have a few things to work out and understand,” Tom said, shaking his head.
“Great One, may our people approach and directly swear our fealty to you now?” Zelda asked. Tom had another “oh, shit” moment.
If he did this, he would be locking himself into being their leader under false pretenses. There would be no going back. It was a huge step. However, if he did not, who knew what would happen, how they would react. He was busily racking his brain trying to think how this sort of scenario played out in books and movies he had read and watched. At last, he gestured to Zelda. “Come to my throne; I would consult with you directly.”
Zelda nodded in acceptance and carefully climbed the dais, then approached the throne and knelt briefly before standing again. He gestured for her to come up close on his right-hand side, which she did.
Tom leaned down to speak with her privately. “I know this must come as a complete surprise, and very sudden for the people. We must, of course, have the swearing; however, are you sure that all of your people are ready and prepared for this after so long? I seek complete, unwavering loyalty and if we do this too quickly after so long, some may end up with reservations. I want no reservations.” He was pulling this out of his butt; he just needed to buy time to talk with the others.
Zelda blinked at this, uncertain, perhaps puzzled. He hoped he had not insulted her or her people. “I, uhm, had not thought of that. I just know that we have been waiting. Many were... on the verge... of losing hope. Many did lose hope, and so perished. You are right, My Lord, this is sudden. We should have a feast prepared to celebrate the oaths; we do not. We were not expecting you.”
“I think a celebratory feast is clearly necessary,” Tom said, grasping at anything. “How long will that take to prepare?”
Zelda shook her head. “I do not know; perhaps a few days. We need to get supplies from somewhere...”
“We need to plan. This must be done right!” Tom said decisively. “We will set the date once we have the feast planned.”
Zelda looked at him and nodded. “Perhaps I might simply introduce my commanders today?”
Tom nodded and stood up. “My people,” he began. Okay, that was presumptuous; he needed to play the part, though. “The Oath Taking is a momentous event and will deserve a celebratory feast. We will need time to prepare the feast; we must therefore plan for that and plan a time for the Oath Taking. Thus, for now, I would have Zelda present her commanders to me.”
Tom sat down and motioned to Zelda, who moved forward to address the crowd. “Commanders, attend!” At this order, about twenty D’Orcs came forward and knelt before the dais. Tom gestured for Zelda to bring them forward. She looked at him and made a gesture of one or all.
“Bring them all up together, as we will be for war councils,” Tom said, getting smiles and cheers from those who heard. The twenty D’Orc commanders came up the dais and knelt before Tom. It was getting a bit crowded; these D’Orcs were big.
“While we are at this, I should also introduce... uh, my entourage.” Tom could not think of what word to use. He seriously doubted that dark overlords had “friends.” He gestured behind the throne, hoping the others would see and come up, cautiously filing two by two around the throne and into view of the D’Orc commanders.