Tyrant of the Ruined Sun

Chapter 230: The Price

Silence followed my words, one of smirking lips and curious ears, as all eyes turned to the aging man before us, who showed no obvious reaction such as shock or confusion at my last query, as though he’s long expected it and had been waiting for us to reach this junction.

"Why you say?" He began, his benign smile unflinching upon his moustached lips. "Is the simple grace of sparing your loyal men the death and horror of facing a numerically superior force not enough?" He finished with a sweeping look at all my gathered officers.

"Don’t play coy with me; I am no fool you can easily swindle, and nor my men’s loyalty so flimsy they will sway with such shallow tricks." I spoke calmly and confidently, a smirk playing upon my lips, my posture still as relaxed as ever, yet I loosed my words with such force it charged the air between us with what felt like prickling electricity and a bone biting chill.

"Evidently not." He replied with the same casual, airy tone as ever, his smile as impenetrable as Abbadin’s walls, and seemingly utterly unaffected by the increasingly crushing pressure building around us.

"One on one, no middlemen, no armies, no interruptions and the victor takes all. That is what you said." I began by repeating his words back to him. "And yet I can’t help but notice that I stand to lose far more than I would gain, wouldn’t you agree lord? Especially if, as you said, you are originally from where we originate from, and know the power and wealth my vast lands hold in comparison to the paltry few still nestled in the southern most Murathicus lands."

"Indeed. Correct you are my good sir." He nodded calmly, unabashed in admitting his own master’s poverty and feebleness against my own.

"And that’s not even mentioning the fact that..." I momentarily paused, sadistically savouring the moment before I laid bare all they tried to hide behind clever words and false bravado. "You need to preserve your power far more than I do, am I right?"

Argus did not immediately reply, but instead suddenly became very interested in inspecting the tent’s ceiling, so I took the liberty to bring everyone of my commanders up to speed with the rapidly changing conversation "Even if I were repulsed by your forces, it would prove to be only a momentary set back; one I could easily replenish the damage of within the year, and come back to settle the scores of with renewed strength, but can you do that? Especially since, as I believe, the current ceasefire and cooperation of the Murathicus tribes is undoubtedly a result of the efforts, power and prestige of your patriarch, am I right?"

He did not reply, and continued to simply to gaze upward, his finger tips now touching before him in a pose of seeming contemplation; but his vocal consent was no longer necessary, for his silence was already tantamount to a guilty confession of my own correctness.

I continued. "And am I also right in my guess that you plan to use this momentary alliance, and hopeful victory against me to pave the road to a more long lasting structure for the Murathicus tribes, bringing them all from a scattered people to, at least, some form of loose tribal coalition, which I would then assume would lead to something more... centralized?" I paused, scanning his countenance more rigorously, yet I was again unable to gleam much more from him, as I then continued. "Something that requires your own clan’s power and prestige to remain as intact as possible, for it shall be the corner stone your people would require to begin construction of this great dream your patriarch holds, am I right?"

But yet again, he did not reply, so I simply asked in finale "Taking all this into account lord Argus, why in the name of all the Gods would I ever agree to such an advantageous agreement for my enemies?"

"Hmm?" He mouthed then, as though deep in thought, before he then released a great sigh of resignation. "Though I had hoped not to be forced to present you with this, I would be doing my own lord a disservice if I don’t, as he specifically asked me to present you with it should I arrive at this very place in our discussion."

He slowly reached into his robes, and from their folds retrieved a small envelope, stamped and sealed proudly in the centre with the waxed sigil of two crossed wheat stalks over a prosperous harbour, all of which is embraced tightly in the arms of a grand oak tree.

My men immediately realized it was the mark of the children of the God of Prosperity, and the flag of the Ober-Rath Clan.

But to me, to my mind and eyes, it is a symbol seared into my memories with far greater power and meaning, for it was the flag of the fifth great empire, the mighty and short lived nation of the Rathunas Empire.

My aides quickly took this piece of parchment from him, and rushed to bring it to me, while I did not doddle to tear apart it’s bindings and reading it’s contents the moment it touched my palm.

"Does he think these taunting words are enough to provoke me?" I half mockingly, half amusedly asked a couple of minutes later, as I dismissively tossed it onto the table before me, it’s face up, allowing everyone here to utilize their powers to clearly read it as well.

"Forgive him lord, my master is still very young after all." He says with a shake of his smiling head.

’Lord, not sir.’ I thought, immediately catching his sudden change of address.

"I am younger than your master, am I not?" I then asked him, remembering a report Darius made to me about the great powers of the Murathicus lands and their leaders, our spies had provided us a few years ago.

Something I only committed to memory due to the fact I remained apprehensive of them repeating the achievements they did in my past life.

"Are you?" Argus smiled with an odd glint in his pale blue eyes. "Do pardon me lord of the Eclipse Empire, but when I look at you I do not see a young man at all." Our eyes clashed then, pale blue against abyssal black, both of us not backing as we searched each other’s globes, the supposed windows to the soul, for any chink in each other’s armour.

"Not at all." He repeated in a voice little more than a whisper, before then saying. "May I ask that you allow me to bore you with my argument now lord?"

"Be my guest." I said, lazily reclining back in my seat, my finger rhythmically tapping my chair’s arm, causing some to immediately feel and describe it like an impromptu impatient ticking timer.

"My good sirs and mighty lord," He began, taking a sweeping glance across all those of us present "why stubbornly persist in conducting this battle, when it is nothing but an avoidable waste of both resources and lives? And though I know you all to be men and women of battle, true warriors who fear not death nor injury in the name of your monarch, ask yourselves, even for a moment, is it worth dying and losing so many of your comrades in a place so far away from home in a truly pointless battle? Doubly so, when your foes are so determined to throw you back behind the mountains you crawled out of, and they are so many more than you..."

"First of all, we do not consider our liege putting his life on the line a casual risk, or some disposable asset to be bargained with. Know very well that we would all rather die than lose him, so enough with all this nonsense of wasted resources. Second of all, and if you haven’t noticed, numerical advantage isn’t as hefty a boon before us as you think. The four great clans who once ruled supreme over these lands had even more men than your army, and yet they still became feed for the crows, did they not?" Hasdrubal cut him off, his grin stretching with a wild, beastly looking snarl to it, as his eyes glowed with a forewarning gleam.

"Indeed they are. No one can deny your skills of strategy and strength." The old man nodded with a respectful, almost admiring bow. "But with all due respect lord, they did not have me." He said the final line, looking directly at me.

A heavy pressure, as though a physical weight had been forcibly pressed to our backs, bending our spines and arching our shoulders, pushing us to cave before this man’s sheer confidence erupted around us then, all the while the very vivid mental image of a great lion with a silver set of hide and mane, roaring triumphantly over a field of death emerged in all of us.

"And besides," Argus then continued, easing the pressure with the return of his casual manner of speech "your liege’s life is in no danger at all, so you can rest assured."

His words rung in my ear for a moment, as I quickly asked in genuine surprise, not expecting such a circumstance. "The duel is not to the death?"

"No lord, we thought it best to end it without death, since neither you, nor my own patriarch has yet been blessed with an heir to both your throne and divine gifts. After all, no one wants the blood of two great gods to disappear from this world." He said with a light hearted chuckle.

"Then that is my price." I quickly demanded then, leaning forward in my chair with clear exhilaration.

"What?" He asked, as he, for the first time since he’d arrived, lost his benign smile and furrowed his brows at me.

"You wanted me to accept this duel, then that is my price, I want it to be duel to the death." I proclaimed, my eyes flashing with a hauntingly menacing gleam.