Thread: A Pillar of Serpents [ft. xanaphia & november]

Every report said you'd died at Moubren. Lord Vell was the first to speak up once the clamor settled. Surrounded by a dozen Dahnae raiders and struck down. He guessed a few of them still suspected some trick. There weren't many men in Niderna with his frame, or the mean tempered blackred horse he'd left outdoors, or his armor. But the helmet that obscured his face, that was the missing thing. Darius snorted dismissively, ripping the heavy thing off his shoulders and letting hit clatter to the ground. Dahnae swords weilded by Dahnae men. They would have needed another dozen to pull that off. The truth was, he still wasn't sure how he'd survived. The initial burst of surprise became a clamor as the king rose from his seat. Darius looked down and smiled to himself. No, no. That would do for a childhood friend, but not for a King. And they'd learned the hard way how broad and constant those obligations were. Cirren narrowed his eyes, changed his expression from joy to skepticism. You didn't send word of your survival? I had business to attend to, he responded gruffly. And then I heard about the Lords of Niderna. He licked his teeth and looked around at the collection. The heads of seven families, and the Kingdom's vital officers, and a few dozen men of lesser importance in the background. Bickering as always over the small share we have. Questioning the King, clamoring to sue for peace with our enemies. You use that word enemy too freely. He ignored Lord Murat and kept his attention on Cirren. I brought you a gift. He wrapped his fist around the hair and dragged it out of the bag. The thing wasn't in wonderful shape - there'd been days of travel in warm weather and it was starting to pick of a smell. But there wasn't any mistaking who it was. And seeing it got a loud reaction, the kind he'd been imagining since he'd started riding back from Moubren and the frontier, since he'd woken up on the floor of that dirty, abandoned fortress. I bring you Lord Asna Harl of Dahnae. Well. Parts of him. The head looked smaller now, thanks to the passage of time and well, things just looking smaller without the body. This same man that stood in this very chamber and told your king to know his place in this world. The same man that said we were a threat to peace on this continent. The same man that spat in these hallowed halls we built TWICE with our own hands and called us barbarians. So when I saw his smug face and his beady eyes.... standing comfortably in the back during an attack on one of our settlements... He grinned and locked eyes with the Dahnae's current Lord Ambassador. He'd practically gone white during this scene. He was there observing - one of the humiliations that had come with their peace deal twenty years ago. I decided I would go through his men and let him taste Niderna barbarism first hand! He adjusted his grip on the previous Lord Ambassador's head - holding it in his palm like a ball as he lifted it up, roaring at the now frenzied court like an animal. It wasn't exactly convincing the gathered diplomats of Niderna's civility. But that was a luxury they didn't have. The nation was surrounded by enemies, flanked by the sea, scattered from the burning husk of their home. Savagery wasn't just permitted, it was necessary. And he'd always been good at that, at least. Let it be this for all my King's enemies, he said calmly, dropping the head to the floor like it was a bauble he'd gotten tired of. The crowd was enraptured, at least the more common men at the back. News of utter defeat on the front had turned into a stunning victory. In more senses than one. How can anyone now say that Dahnae hasn't been behind these attacks on our people? With one of their Lord Ambassadors leading the way? Darius spat onto the ground and stared down the heads of the gathered families. He'd been raised here, knew each of them and what they were feeling, where they stood, how they'd react. He locked eyes with Lord Vell and stomped over towards him, his heavy armor creaking and slamming into the floor as he moved. Darius loomed over him, casually putting the Lord Ambassador's gore under his boot. What about you, Vell? Will you stand against the king even now? Stand against me? From the intonation of his voice, it felt like any defiance would be met with immediate physical violence, either from him or the mob. Vell swallowed. I told the king that we would need to talk about all of this in a closed counsel. Choices that were wise and cowardly and necessary often needed to happen behind closed doors. Darius was a brute, he'd made peace with that. But he was a soldier, and he knew facts like those as well as anyone. There always needed to be someone to retreat, someone to say no, to acknowledge the possibility of failure. But it wasn't a proud duty.