Though peace had been hard won by Arctra, it was not certain. With the civil war over, attention had turned toward the ever-present threat from the east. Skarra, the island of necromancy, where magic was stolen from demons and employed with ruthless efficiency against anyone who opposed the magisters. They had been raiding Arctran shores for centuries, but it was only recently that their true interest had been revealed. In committing so many mercenaries to Velasca's cause, they had shown their very real interest in conquering Arctra for themselves. That none of those mercenaries had returned from the battle was hoped to be enough to check their ambitions. But nothing could prevent what was happening today.
A Skarran ship had docked in the bay; a messenger came with the news that First Magister Brexus Tevarius of the Skarran Conclave was here to offer peace to the True Queen of Arctra. And reluctantly, Ariana had been forced to allow him to step ashore. Now she waited in her throne room, her husband on one side, her First Blade on the other, armed guards and their captain lining the great hall. The nobles and others gathered there murmured amongst themselves. No one was pleased with this development.
There were few smiles to be had in the throne room, most there on pins and needles regarding the Skarran delegation and their claims of offering peace. Everyone knew the Skarrans would never offer peace without wanting something in return. The question was, what? The Captain of the Queen's Guard was there, ever watchful and ever suspicious. His wife was there, too - the former First Blade. Though she no longer officially held a position of influence, she was a personal friend of the queen and her consort, as well as the current First Blade, and the wife of the Queen's Captain. Whether she was First Blade any longer or not, she still held a vested interest in the future of her country and the well-being of her friends.
The side door opened, and a runner came to the throne, bowing before rising to speak softly to the queen and those closest to her. All eyes were on him, watching as Ariana nodded. The queen glanced at her husband, something unknown passing between them, and turned to take her place on the throne as the runner slipped away. A few moments later, the great doors at the far end of the hall were opened with some ceremony, and the herald made his announcement.
"Brexus Tevarius, First Magister of Skarra!"
Every eye in the place snapped to the lavishly dressed man who entered. What drew the eye were the rich trappings in which he dressed himself, the staff he held in his hand declaring his ability with magic, the sheen on his bald head. He leveled his eyes directly at the young monarch as he approached at his own pace, but the rumble of discontent in the room only increased as his retinue followed. He had guards, yes, but what truly drew the Arctrans' ire was the sight of two slaves, collared with metal and struggling with the weight of a large chest carried between them. Both were very plainly Arctran-born, and neither lifted their eyes from their burden as they struggled to keep up.
Liam grumbled under his breath, almost growling in annoyance and barely repressed hostility toward their so-called guests. It didn't help when he recognized the two Arctrans who were under the Skarrans' control, his hand falling to rest against the pommel of his sword, though he resisted the urge to draw it from its scabbard. As for the First Blade, he was looking wary, eyes narrowing on the sight of the slaves among the Skarran retinue and wondering what they were up to.
As the magister reached the steps at the bottom of the dais, there was a dangerous moment. His foot lifted, as though to mount those stairs, and Liam's guards, well trained as they were, smartly reacted, barring his path with pikes crossed. The herald, seeming to realize there could be a fight right then and there, cleared his throat and introduced the queen, completely superfluously.
"Presenting her majesty, Ariana, True Queen of Arctra and Daughter of the line of Arlan, Bearer of the Sword of Arctra, and Defender of the Nine; and her chosen consort, Rory Brennan, Knight of the Realm and Defender of the Queen!"
The words rang out in the hostile silence until, finally, Ariana deigned to look at the Skarra smirking up at her. "State your business here, First Magister. You are not welcome in my land."
Beside the Queen, her chosen consort and the man who was her first line of defense visibly tensed. He was as armed as her guards and as willing to put his own life at risk to defend hers, just as suspicious as she regarding the Skarran presence here today. He knew they still had some enemies, and he also suspected the Skarrans weren't here because they wanted peace. He said nothing for the moment, allowing Ariana to address the man herself, though he was right there beside her if she needed him.
The magister looked coolly between the armed men and women around him; to the Captain of the Guard glaring at him; to the Consort, also glaring; and finally met the cold eyes of the new queen. They all knew what he was seeing; a sweet, angelic face crowned with a coil of golden hair, a girl-child who could not possibly be a threat to him or his people. His smirk deepened as he lowered into a florid bow that mocked more than it respected.
"Your Majesty," he began, his voice as smooth and cloying as syrup. "I bring you greetings from the Conclave of Skarra. Our congratulations upon your victory. An offer of peace, in exchange for one small condition of our friendship."
An angry mutter cut through the hall. How dare he think to lay terms before their queen" Only those standing close to the throne knew exactly how much danger the magister had put himself in with those insulting words, however. Only they could feel the chill in the air that revealed the unexpected presence of the queen's ghostly brother.
Ariana raised her chin sharply. "I was not under the impression that peace offerings came with terms and conditions, Magister," she said, trying hard to keep her voice only sharp and not hostile. She was frightened, but she knew it would never do to show it.
"A small thing, majesty," the magister responded, gesturing with his staff. The guards on the steps stiffened in response, ready to attack at the slightest hint of magic. "We in the Conclave know of your troubles with the nomads who squat on your lands, these Wild Ones, as they call themselves. We humbly offer our land to them, to take them off your hands for good."
Ah, but the Queen was only as good as the people who served her, and though her personal circle might be small, she could not have asked for a more loyal following. Her Captain had personally seen to the screening of each and every guard who stood in the queen's defense here today and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they would not hesitate to shed Skarran blood to defend their queen.
Of all those gathered there, it was Rory who visibly stiffened at the Skarran magister's offer. Though few knew the truth, the blood of the clansmen flowed in his veins, hence he found the Skarrans offer not only suspect but unacceptable. "The Wild Ones helped up to defeat Velasca. Why would we cast them out now, when we owe them our gratitude?" he found himself saying, against his own better judgment.
"Why, to avoid further conflicts," the magister said smoothly. "It is no secret that Arctrans distrust and dislike these nomads. We merely offer ourselves as the caretakers of these wild mages and warriors -"
"Caretakers?" The interruption came from the nobility gathered nearby, but it was clearly the voice of Shaye O'Connor, loaded with suspicion and hatred.
The magister's expression flickered with annoyance. "Caretakers, yes," he said, but was again interrupted, this time by the queen herself.
A Skarran ship had docked in the bay; a messenger came with the news that First Magister Brexus Tevarius of the Skarran Conclave was here to offer peace to the True Queen of Arctra. And reluctantly, Ariana had been forced to allow him to step ashore. Now she waited in her throne room, her husband on one side, her First Blade on the other, armed guards and their captain lining the great hall. The nobles and others gathered there murmured amongst themselves. No one was pleased with this development.
There were few smiles to be had in the throne room, most there on pins and needles regarding the Skarran delegation and their claims of offering peace. Everyone knew the Skarrans would never offer peace without wanting something in return. The question was, what? The Captain of the Queen's Guard was there, ever watchful and ever suspicious. His wife was there, too - the former First Blade. Though she no longer officially held a position of influence, she was a personal friend of the queen and her consort, as well as the current First Blade, and the wife of the Queen's Captain. Whether she was First Blade any longer or not, she still held a vested interest in the future of her country and the well-being of her friends.
The side door opened, and a runner came to the throne, bowing before rising to speak softly to the queen and those closest to her. All eyes were on him, watching as Ariana nodded. The queen glanced at her husband, something unknown passing between them, and turned to take her place on the throne as the runner slipped away. A few moments later, the great doors at the far end of the hall were opened with some ceremony, and the herald made his announcement.
"Brexus Tevarius, First Magister of Skarra!"
Every eye in the place snapped to the lavishly dressed man who entered. What drew the eye were the rich trappings in which he dressed himself, the staff he held in his hand declaring his ability with magic, the sheen on his bald head. He leveled his eyes directly at the young monarch as he approached at his own pace, but the rumble of discontent in the room only increased as his retinue followed. He had guards, yes, but what truly drew the Arctrans' ire was the sight of two slaves, collared with metal and struggling with the weight of a large chest carried between them. Both were very plainly Arctran-born, and neither lifted their eyes from their burden as they struggled to keep up.
Liam grumbled under his breath, almost growling in annoyance and barely repressed hostility toward their so-called guests. It didn't help when he recognized the two Arctrans who were under the Skarrans' control, his hand falling to rest against the pommel of his sword, though he resisted the urge to draw it from its scabbard. As for the First Blade, he was looking wary, eyes narrowing on the sight of the slaves among the Skarran retinue and wondering what they were up to.
As the magister reached the steps at the bottom of the dais, there was a dangerous moment. His foot lifted, as though to mount those stairs, and Liam's guards, well trained as they were, smartly reacted, barring his path with pikes crossed. The herald, seeming to realize there could be a fight right then and there, cleared his throat and introduced the queen, completely superfluously.
"Presenting her majesty, Ariana, True Queen of Arctra and Daughter of the line of Arlan, Bearer of the Sword of Arctra, and Defender of the Nine; and her chosen consort, Rory Brennan, Knight of the Realm and Defender of the Queen!"
The words rang out in the hostile silence until, finally, Ariana deigned to look at the Skarra smirking up at her. "State your business here, First Magister. You are not welcome in my land."
Beside the Queen, her chosen consort and the man who was her first line of defense visibly tensed. He was as armed as her guards and as willing to put his own life at risk to defend hers, just as suspicious as she regarding the Skarran presence here today. He knew they still had some enemies, and he also suspected the Skarrans weren't here because they wanted peace. He said nothing for the moment, allowing Ariana to address the man herself, though he was right there beside her if she needed him.
The magister looked coolly between the armed men and women around him; to the Captain of the Guard glaring at him; to the Consort, also glaring; and finally met the cold eyes of the new queen. They all knew what he was seeing; a sweet, angelic face crowned with a coil of golden hair, a girl-child who could not possibly be a threat to him or his people. His smirk deepened as he lowered into a florid bow that mocked more than it respected.
"Your Majesty," he began, his voice as smooth and cloying as syrup. "I bring you greetings from the Conclave of Skarra. Our congratulations upon your victory. An offer of peace, in exchange for one small condition of our friendship."
An angry mutter cut through the hall. How dare he think to lay terms before their queen" Only those standing close to the throne knew exactly how much danger the magister had put himself in with those insulting words, however. Only they could feel the chill in the air that revealed the unexpected presence of the queen's ghostly brother.
Ariana raised her chin sharply. "I was not under the impression that peace offerings came with terms and conditions, Magister," she said, trying hard to keep her voice only sharp and not hostile. She was frightened, but she knew it would never do to show it.
"A small thing, majesty," the magister responded, gesturing with his staff. The guards on the steps stiffened in response, ready to attack at the slightest hint of magic. "We in the Conclave know of your troubles with the nomads who squat on your lands, these Wild Ones, as they call themselves. We humbly offer our land to them, to take them off your hands for good."
Ah, but the Queen was only as good as the people who served her, and though her personal circle might be small, she could not have asked for a more loyal following. Her Captain had personally seen to the screening of each and every guard who stood in the queen's defense here today and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they would not hesitate to shed Skarran blood to defend their queen.
Of all those gathered there, it was Rory who visibly stiffened at the Skarran magister's offer. Though few knew the truth, the blood of the clansmen flowed in his veins, hence he found the Skarrans offer not only suspect but unacceptable. "The Wild Ones helped up to defeat Velasca. Why would we cast them out now, when we owe them our gratitude?" he found himself saying, against his own better judgment.
"Why, to avoid further conflicts," the magister said smoothly. "It is no secret that Arctrans distrust and dislike these nomads. We merely offer ourselves as the caretakers of these wild mages and warriors -"
"Caretakers?" The interruption came from the nobility gathered nearby, but it was clearly the voice of Shaye O'Connor, loaded with suspicion and hatred.
The magister's expression flickered with annoyance. "Caretakers, yes," he said, but was again interrupted, this time by the queen herself.