Terry Simpson - The Shadowbearer

Guban stumbled to his feet. “P-Peace, Lord Dorn.”

“Now you beg for peace?” Stefan clenched his teeth against the urge to slay the commander.

“We meant no harm in what we did,” Guban wheezed, blood dribbling from the corner of his lips, marring the white paint on his face. “King Jelani fears those such as she, as all the last of Everland’s Dosteri do.” He nodded toward Clarice. “We have seen the destruction when the madness takes their kind. In our land they are used up and disposed of quickly.”

The name Dosteri sparked some familiarity in Stefan, but he pushed it from his mind. “Not in our land. Here you will treat them with respect.”

“The King wanted to make sure she was no threat.” Guban regained some measure of himself. His gaze darted from the King to Stefan’s outstretched hand.

Words issued in a low growl from Jelani.

Guban started.

“What did he say?”

“The King …” Guban eyes shifted uneasily. “The King apologizes for his misstep and begs for you to release him. He will make amends in any way you deem necessary.”

Stefan sneered. He eyed Clarice who shook her head. Whatever the King actually said, maybe it was better he didn’t know. Stefan needed to keep them off balance and fearful, thinking he Forged within a Warped area. He still had one last revelation to convince the King. “Tell him to signal the others hidden among the brush to the east. I came here in good faith, so should you. Didn’t we prove ourselves against the shadelings?”

Guban translated, his words coming out in the harsh, guttural tongue of the Erastonians. The conversation went back and forth for a few moments before King Jelani nodded.

Out across the field to their east, several Erastonians, their garb a lighter brown to match their surroundings, stood and loped the way they’d come. They had split from the secondary force when the legion disappeared below the hill’s crest. The slight change in numbers had been Stefan’s clue.

Stefan waved then dropped his hand to his side.

The King crumpled to his knees. Guban hurried over to his liege and helped the man to his feet.

With a dip of his head, Stefan signaled for Kasimir and Clarice to approach. By the time they arrived, Jelani and Guban were standing straight. Guban’s eyes were wary, but King Jelani’s glittered angrily.

“High Shin Clarice, Knight General Kasimir, meet King Jelani and Commander Guban,” Stefan said, resting his hand on his sword hilt.

Clarice and Kasimir nodded while Guban translated.

The King’s lips curled at the mention of Clarice’s title, and he asked a question.

“The King asks why they will not dismount.”

“Well, in case you planned something else, they will return to our army before either of you can stop them. Warping doesn’t affect us as you thought. So, in that case, we’ll see if your horde can stand against a real Setian army.” Stefan let his teeth show in a mirthless grin as he patted his dartan.

Guban passed the message on. The King blinked several times before responding.

“We bargain in good faith. Shall we begin?”

Stefan nodded.

After removing a parchment from a pouch at his waist, Guban squatted. He unrolled it to reveal a map of Ostania and placed a stone on each corner.

“In exchange for our help ridding you of your King, this Nerian, and saving your people, we will require a portion of your lands. We also want the people that inhabit them to do with as we will.” Guban looked up.

No surprise there. Stefan nodded. He would agree for now, but no matter how long it took, he would eventually drive the Erastonians back into Everland. “What land do you require?”

Guban translated.

The King said a few words.

Guban drew a line with his finger starting from the Nevermore Heights in the north where they bordered Everland. The line continued south through Astocan and Cardian lands, all the way to the coast, cutting Ostania in half. “Everything to the east of this line.”

A gasp escaped Kasimir. Clarice made a choking sound.

“You’ll never get the Harnan out of the Nevermore,” Stefan said. “Not with the Svenzar to support them. To fight them you must take on the mountains themselves.”

“That is where you come in. You and your Ashishin will help us take the Nevermore.”

“No.” Expression stern, Clarice stepped forward. “We will partake in a battle to free the Setian from Nerian, but we will not help you take any other Ostanian lands.”

“Then we have no deal.”

“The Ashishin and the Tribunal might be hated in Ostania,” Stefan said, “but if they offer to help free the land from both you and Nerian, all of Granadia will be at their disposal. With what Nerian has done, allying with shadelings, I’m certain more Ostanian kingdoms will side with the Tribunal. The Felani already have. The Harnan are with us, which means we also have the Svenzar. You suffered one defeat already by a small portion of our might. It’s your choice.”

“By refusing, Ostania will fall to the shade,” Guban said, after translating.

Stefan gave the man a grim look. “Yes, and the Tribunal’s armies will simply return across the Vallum of Light, leaving you to battle the shade on your own. When you have been weakened …” He closed his fist.

Guban winced then relayed the words to the King who openly stared at High Shin Clarice. She shrugged.

“Here’s what I propose.” Stefan squatted, facing Guban. He drew a line south of the Nevermore Heights, starting below the Mondros Forest. “You can keep whatever you already claimed since you left Everland.”

“Bah. This is nothing but deserts and mountains near the Everlast Mountains.”

“Setian land nonetheless,” Stefan countered. “We can help you claim these lands from the Astocans and Cardians. However, that will end at the southern coast, here.” He indicated the Misted Cliffs. “We will never beat their combined might at sea where their strength lies.” Stefan stood.

A long conversation ensued between Guban and Jelani. The King shook his head furiously several times and indicated the Nevermore Heights. Whatever it was, the man wanted something there in earnest. There was no way he would get what he coveted. Even if Stefan wanted to help, the Svenzar and the equally hardy Harnan were simply too strong when within the mountains. Finally, the King growled under his breath and gave a reluctant nod.

“The King asks what of this land to the east.” Guban indicated Bana.

“No,” Stefan said. “We owe the Banai much. If he presses the issue we can call this off now.”

The two Erastonians spoke for a bit longer then Guban said, “We agree. He asks how do we know you will not turn on us after we deliver your city back to you.”

“Faith,” Stefan said folding his hand into a fist then releasing.

A slight flinch from the King brought a smile onto Stefan’s lips. Stefan met the King’s gaze, exaggerating his confidence in reminding the Erastonians of the power they feared he possessed.

After Guban translated, the King huffed and gave a slow nod.

As Stefan turned away from the two men, he held in a relieved sigh and mounted. Behind him, The King said a few words.

“We shall do our part and supply enough of our dead to keep up appearances of a deadly battle,” Guban said. “The King asks how you will keep what happened here secret among your men.”

“Tell him not to worry,” Stefan said from atop his dartan. “All will be in place. A week from now you’ll be able to strike Benez and help me free my people. High Shin Clarice will arrive when the attack is to commence.”

A pained expression, quickly masked, fluttered across King Jelani’s face before he nodded hesitantly.