Talla

It had been a few days since they had set off to the Waterfalls. Stormhelm was further from Lobisomem’s Geyser than it was from Bosque, but well-kept roads made the trip altogether shorter. They were expected to reach the capital in just under two weeks, and they would cross the border any moment. Altogether it had been a mostly uneventful trip up to that point and the carriage had been quite comfortable. This was not to last.

“We will be passing an outpost soon,” Von said, reaching for the doorknob. “I should ride with the others for now. It is only proper.” He nodded at them both in a solemn fashion and closed the door behind him. A few moments later the carriage began moving once more and the two were left alone for the very first time.

It would not have been quiet, even if there wasn’t a topic to address. “Lady Talla, I must ask you a question, if you do not mind.” Alayne had her hands together and spoke in an excited tone that did not invite a denial. “About your swordsmanship, when did you start practicing it?”

“When did you start breathing?”

Alayne laughed. “You are funny, my lady, but I am sure you did not come out of your mother’s womb with a blade in hand.”

She knows that was not literal, surely. Was she trained to act dumb to please nobles? “Might as well have. I killed my mother with my birth all the same.”

“That was an accident—elves have high mortality rates at birth, do you not? And it would still not mean you wielded a blade as a newborn.” Alayne’s voice appeared sincere and this was frustrating. Whether she is playing dumb or actually that scatterbrained matters not, it offends me all the same.

“Demon, the way things happened with Von was no accident, was it?” Talla asked bluntly. Alayne was taken aback but not outraged at the suggestion. So you did. “It has been concerning me for a while. The way things turned out was quite convenient for you, is it not?”

Alayne’s expression hardened for just a second, then turned soft again. “My lady, I understand that you are not fond of the arrangements, but they are quite good for you as well, are they not?”

“Whatever do you imply, demon?” It was rude not to call her by her name but her suspicions bothered her. “I am not involved in your arrangements.”

“But you are,” Alayne insisted. “This way you can continue your relationship with Lord Von despite your lack of title.”

Talla shifted in her seat and narrowed her eyes. She too takes me for his lover, it seems. “So this is what it is.” Something had felt wrong about all of it but she could not figure out what it was until now. “Von’s brother suggested this, did he not?”

“I do not know what you—”

“Von’s brother is unmarried. Recall his words before, and think just a little if you are capable of it. I feel as though he would be sympathetic to your plight, no? Moreover, the man is also a loving brother, though a lord foremost.” Redgraves appeared to put their duty before anything else, to a concerning degree. “It seems to me that you intended to pull at Von’s heartstrings with your display a couple days ago, to lead him to accept this current arrangement.”

Alayne opened her mouth and shrunk in her seat as if she had been stabbed. “You think I could shed tears like that on command? Lady Talla, you presume much of my acting skills. Were I as skillful as you suggest, do you not think I would have chosen to save my family’s coffers by being an actress in King’s Heart? The King of Princes patrons many who possess less talent than what you would accuse me of having.”

“I do not accuse you of falsifying your wounds. Only of flashing them at the right moment, and perhaps exaggerating the pain they cause, if not their severity.”

“What do you—“

Talla leaned forward suddenly to interrupt the demon. “You arrive in Stormkeep, devoid of guards? At the time I thought you merely poor in coin, but the more I think of it, the more that does not hold up. Even had your pockets been that shallow, Vance of Redgrave would have sent an honor guard to meet you at the border. Do you want to know what I believe happened?”

Alayne said nothing.

“I think you dismissed the guards shortly before arriving in Stormhelm. It makes you appear weaker, more innocent—enough to make an honorable man like Von cling on to ideals older than stone itself and want to protect you. Then you show up in his room and undress yourself hoping your body will convince him where not much else will. Only it was not your bare skin you hoped would convince him, but that your willingness to show your skin despite great pain would. He watches your tears, tells you not to disgrace yourself, and vows to do right by you. Was that the plan?”

Alayne stuttered for a moment before replying. “Whatever would be the point of that? Von of Redgrave was agreeable enough to my situation, was he not? What would the point in that deception have been?”

“Von did not yet want to take a wife,” Talla muttered, “and he would have insisted on that matter. This lets him reach a compromise between his wants and his duties. He must be a lord, but he does not want to marry—now he has a reason to marry.” Or at least that is what Vance of Redgrave would have thought. I have known this version of Von for longer than he has. His memories are likely still of the arrogant Von of the Past, who likely refused marriage so he could entertain himself with a different face every sunset. Doubtlessly he thought it a kindness, an arrangement that would allow Von to be an eternal bachelor.

Talla disagreed.

“Pray tell, my Champion, what deception do you accuse me of? I spoke of nothing but truth to my lord.”

The way you made him find out about it was deception enough. That Alayne’s family needed coin was certainly true and just as true that she preferred the companionship of women. The extent of both was questionable, however. If Alayne prefers women but is not wholly lacking in attraction to men, then once married to Von she could easily force an heir out of him and solidify her position in the Stormlands. Many possibilities there. None that Talla could be certain of.

Alayne certainly preferred women—she could tell that much with how she looked at Talla—but whether her mother had truly been as disapproving of her past relationship was in question. I am not convinced that particular past relationship existed at all. A former flame that was extinguished before you came to Stormkeep, just enough separation so that Von wouldn’t think to insist on nobly reuniting you with your former love. Mighty convenient, that.

Elves hated courtly politics for a reason—for the longest time she had assumed this behavior to be inherent in all of them, until Lord Cywin showed otherwise. Even considering all of this disgusted her.

“Make no mistake, Champion Talla.” Gone was Alayne’s childishness from her voice. “The situation may have been presented as I wished, yes. But my family is truly in dire need of coin—Von of Redgrave will surely verify it himself—and undressing myself in that manner was truly difficult for me. I—I wish you had not been present for it. By the Chains and the Fire, I wish Lord Von had not needed to see it.”

Ashamed of the skin she showed, but not of her actions. “Your crimes are light. Were I a member of your family, I would see them as laudable, even. There is an argument to be made, should you wish to look at it a certain way, that you have done Von of Redgrave a favor.”

Alayne brightened considerably at this. “Then you understand that—“

“I am not a member of your family, however. I am Von’s friend.” Talla eyed her suspiciously. “To be frank I cannot get a good measure of you. I just don’t know how much of you is real.”

“I do not ask you that you trust me, Champion, but I ask that you do not inform Lord Von of your baseless conjectures.”

Talla nodded and thought back to the day this arrangement had been made. “Damn you, Vance,” Von had said, “you should have spoken to me about this. If only...” Von was more clever than Alayne gave him credit for.

Von

They made camp that night and Von found himself watching the smoke going up in the sky, from behind the privacy barriers afforded for his demonic friend. His men had muttered complaints about it, but only under muttered breaths, and even then they refrained from the worst of it. What he had done to the men who stole from the elves kept their displeasure professional. And he hated that it did. He hated that shedding blood kept them from rebelling. But hatred of the matter did not mean turning a blind eye to it. If only Vance allowed him some of the older guards, instead of giving him all the youngbloods…

“I have spoken to your men,” Talla said, sitting down beside Von on the grass. “Whether it is fear of what you have done to them for mistreating elves or that they just hate demons more is anyone’s guess, but their tongues are far looser in my presence now.” Her eyes narrowed and a touch of annoyance rose to her voice. “That they take me for hating the woman for making moves on you, and thus a comrade in their dislike of her…well, that does not hurt either.”

“These rumors,” Von began, “I will see to it that they—”

Talla laughed. “My lord, you may earn their respect, but no amount of heads chopped off will keep their tongues from gossiping about their lord’s love life, and that would only stoke the fire. No, let it be so.” Her laughter quieted down and a touch of concern flashed in her face. “Have you heard word of the men you sent back to Bosque for theft?”

“Aye, my lady.” Von did not like what he had heard. “The lesser two restituted their victims, much to their surprise. The Maiden of the Forest the worst offender sought after had recently undertaken pilgrimage to Eldland. He went after her, with the other two as witnesses.” Vance had ruled that their houses not be burned down until their return or two months pass. It was odd. Though Vance was the more ruthless of the two, he showed more pity than Von himself did in situations like this. Or opportunism. “Rest assured, the Maiden of the Forest’s belongings will be returned to her.”

The elf nodded in response, then joined Von’s gaze at the rising smoke. “Your men are unhappy with how much smoke the fire is creating.”

“We have our own fire going. That is no different.”

“They claim it is.”

“They are wrong.”

Talla gave a shrug in response. “Be that as it may…is it necessary the woman bathes in fire every night?”

“If I mean to keep my honor, yes. She could survive with only bathing in fire once a month, at great discomfort, but the rot buildup is most unpleasant, I heard, and bad for the joints.” Lord Lafel had often complained of it when Von was a child. Every time he and his father would return from a hunting trip, he would cry out about wanting to set Stormkeep itself on fire if it would rid him of his pain faster. As a child, Von had really thought he would do it, and the lord had found it too amusing to correct him. Too late now to realize he would rather burn down with father than to betray us. “On a long journey like this, she needs the fire.”

“Perhaps,” Talla conceded. She paused. “There are many in the Six Princedoms who hate me for being an elf,” she muttered, “and thus I know how evil of an idea it is to hate someone just for that. Yet I cannot fully like the demon woman, lovable as she might appear. I cannot separate cunning from innocent desperation.”

Von nodded slowly. Neither can I. But it mattered not, his course of action remained the same. “Those who need fire to live,” Von muttered, “and those who live in wooden houses, surrounded by trees…I suppose it is natural there would be some dislike between your people.” There had been skirmishes between demons and elves long ago before humans had even arrived on the continent when Icefolk yet ruled Stormhelm as Kings in the Storm. It was not why they disliked each other now. Von was not sure there was a reason beyond distance and a general distaste for each other’s customs. “I do believe that Alayne is noble of heart, my lady. Even if her actions might be misguided at times.”

“That—”

A symphony of steel interrupted the elf.

Stormener men drew out their steel and cried out desperate warnings. At first, Von thought they had rebelled against him. Have they finally decided I gather too many foreigners in my retinue? A moment later he felt shame in the thought, for a group of five armored men approached the two with their blades drawn and pointed at the moon itself, encircling the two protectively. “My lord, my lady—stand back! Stand back!”

A low, bristling howl echoed off the moon.

I do not remember ever hearing this sound, Von thought, and yet…

And yet his body shook, yet his breath stopped, yet he knew his life was in danger. A primal feeling within him screamed at the young lord to run, yet another told him to stay still. To turn your back was to welcome a coward’s death. All men died, but the Storm Gods would receive no cowards tonight. “On me!” Von screamed, drawing his sword. Little good it would do. “Backs to each other, no blind spots!” A sword unsheathed to his side and he knew Talla had no intention of running. Father would have told me to keep her safe. To protect women first. He smiled at the knowledge she had his side covered. Father is not here. This is how I want it. “We protect a guest bathing in the fire, we will not break formation!” he roared.

His men roared back. It mattered little that they had no particular taste for demons, they had sworn an oath and they would not break it. The Storm Gods would know if they shamed guestright here. “My lord, here it comes!”

It was not even the creature that they saw first. It was the bodies of his own men, who had been attempting to hold it back, being flung back as if they were balls of steel in a throwing contest. Some of them were dead, he knew, but he would only shame them by mourning now. Win now and save the survivors later, he thought, or die here and join them in a feast above the storm. What was needed of him was the same either way.

Taller than the tallest man, taller even than Lobo, stood an armored knight. Metal appeared to barely contain his hulking figure, much of it nearly launching off his bulging muscles. There was fur surrounding much of his exposed skin, and fangs where teeth used to be. Those bright yellow eyes of his reminded all of exactly what he was. A wolf, Von thought, in Lobisomem form. It was quite the transformation, making him reminiscent of the Neverending Wolves of legend. He must have had a measure of prince’s blood within him. That Lobisomem shape was too bestial, too pure. Von had only seen three wolves in that form before, and none had transformed so much. But the moon was full tonight.

“Stand back, beast!” Von commanded. “Or we will slay you right now! Surrender and you shall be tried beneath the storms.”

The Lobisomem laughed. It was like watching a coyote laugh. “Oh, there is nothing I would like more, Von of Redgrave, than for you to slay me.” His laugh echoed in the night. “I simply could not wait for the tournament. What if Lobo defeated you first? What if the bracket did not bless me with the chance to bout with you? That would not do—that would not do at all!” He—it—roared at them. One of Von’s men took a step back, trembling, then forced himself back in position. “You are the only one who can give it to me, Von of Redgrave! The beautiful duel I have been seeking!”

It’s someone I know. Someone I once knew. The thought scared him almost as much as the Lobisomem himself. “Regardless of how I have wronged you in the past, you have killed many of my men. I care not whether we are in the Waterfalls or the Storms—you shall pay with your life.” He stepped in front of his men. “Tell me what sin I committed, so that I remember it after you die.”

“Your sin?” The Lobisomem found this very humorous. He took one step forward, and silence fell until he dismissed it himself. “You bested Lobo of the Noble Companions, then lost to Gilver of Bluegrave before I had a fair shot at you. To defeat my target first, then do the disservice of not allowing me revenge—well, that simply will not do. I needed you to give me the beautiful duel I was looking for.”

Von considered the situation. He could not tell how many of his men were still alive, but the trail of blood across their camp beneath the moonlight lit a fire in his heart. “You spill blood for beauty, you say.” Von stepped forward. “Allow me to make you most beautiful, then!”

“Good!” the Lobisomen thundered back. “That is what I want to hear! Romulo of the Damned River will thank you!’

Romulo of the Damned River, Von thought, placed third in Blade Valley. He knew little of the man, only that he too lost to Gilver of Bluegrave before defeating Bravo of Eldland in the battle for the bronze. We are up against one of the greatest swordsmen alive. I am barely good enough to compete with someone like that. No, that was not quite right. This was not a duel. This was a battle. It was not a one-on-one fight. Romulo could not activate his Heartbeat now. Even if he was superior in terms of physical ability, he was still quite outnumbered. He had caught those men by surprise. If they were careful, they could defeat him still. He was a large wolf, but there was nothing else to concern ourselves with. The Lord of Stormkeep drew a deep breath. "We can do this," Von muttered.

“The world,” Romulo lamented, “has lost its touch. No longer do we seek beauty in duels. Once upon a time, they served as our way to protect our honor beneath the watchful eyes of the gods. The Chain and the Fire would look down on us and bless the duelists for their display. It is no longer the case, Von of Redgrave. The duelo bonito is gone. We duel to please the gods no longer, but for points and for murder. What happened to the elegant dance? To the beautiful clashing steel? To the smirking swordsman, who dodged every strike before delivering his own final thrust?”

Von ignored him and spoke to his men. “Spread out,” he told them. “He cannot use his Heartbeat, so he will not be able to kill me in one hit. When he swings his blade at me, all of you must attack him from the side.”

“But my lord—”

“I command you as Lord of Stormkeep,” Von declared. “Go!”

The hesitant captain nodded at him, but only made two steps before stopping suddenly. It was not cowardice or even shock that froze him in place. The Lobisomem was emitting a bright light from within his chest now. Von did not recognize it, but too found himself enthralled by it. The glowing orb shattered the armor from within as it came out, and it slowly made its way to the longsword Romulo wielded single-handed. In his monstrous hands, it might as well have been a smallsword.

Steel absorbed the light, and it was here that the wolf cried out, “Time and time again, this steel of mine will pave the road of destiny ahead of me! Causality itself shakes before you—BEAT FASTER, MY ROYAL HEARTBEAT!”

The King of Princes had awarded eight of those to the top finishers of Blade Valley. An unusual move that had been questioned by many of his advisers, Von had read. But he had never really known how capable Royal Heartbeats were. His own prize remained locked in a chest within Stormkeep. It scared him, just looking at it. He felt that if he tried using it, he would have been devoured by it. And now he knew why.

“Seven against one!” the Lobisomem declared. “It is a fair duel. If a meager Heartbeat will not acknowledge, my Royal will! This beating heart of mine recognizes it as just—do you run, craven? Or do you Stormeners refuse a just match? Must your craven hearts deprive me of the duelo bonito I dream of?”

Von had not expected a fight like this to be possible. Heartbeats were not meant to trigger in anything but single contests. Even without Heartbeats, our chances of winning against a wolf in Lobisomem form was a fantasy at best. If Heartbeats are part of the fight, our chances are even lower. To back down from a duel when he had numerical advantage would be craven at best. Even if he survived, even if the men here understood the severity of the situation, rumors would make it back to Stormkeep and he would bring shame to his house. Death was preferable to that. But I cannot have Talla risk her life because of me. She has her own duty, to cure the Deathless Curse. What should I do? There was a chance no one would find out, of course—that only he and Talla would survive. He could even execute his men if needed for secrecy. Who would know?

I would, Von thought, the Storm Gods would. He could not conceive of such a craven plan, but neither could he conceive of damning Talla alongside him for his honor.

It was Captain Diego who spoke first. “Men of the Storm do not fear death,” he thundered. “We will not live at the cost of our honor. It is not our way!” Diego roared and the other four guards echoed him, more hesitantly at first, then growing in fierceness at the end. “Six on one, stray dog. Leave the elf out of this. She does not follow our ways, and we will not ask her to burn her life for our fire.”

Thank you, Von thought, that makes things easier—

Talla stepped forward, sword in hand. “I may not be Stormener,” she announced, “but I eat your bread and drink your wine. Stormener wool warms me at night, and it is your lord who stands by my kind when all others turn away. I do not share your honor, nor do I pray to your gods. But Talla of Bosque will not run away. Seven on one!” She pointed her sword at the Lobisomem and the guards roared. No, Talla, you can’t! Run away! This is not your problem!

Captain Diego let out an appreciative chuckle. “You may not be Stormener, elf, but you will dine above the storms with us tonight.” His voice was solemn and without mockery. “Anyone who dies with you on the battlefield is more of a brother than your own blood."

“I doubt the Storm Gods will allow an elf’s presence at their gates,” she said.

Diego barked a laugh at this. “If they turn down a lass who draws a sword at a lobisomem and pledges to die alongside her host rather than run away like some southern scum, then I swear it, we will batter down the gods’ gates ourselves and use their corpses to protect your feet from the mud.”

Another roar from the guards, and the Lobisomem started to approach. Their decision has been made. It would shame all of us for me to interfere. Von would rather Talla ran to safety, perhaps grabbing Alayne on the way—yet it was her decision, not his. Let it be so. “Talla will join us above the storms,” Von said. He, like the others, shook, but he allowed the racing of his heart to rule him rather than his fear. “But it will not be tonight. We will dine above the storms, brothers, and drink to this fight someday. But it will not be tonight.”

The Lobisomem ran at them, his monstrous legs exploding him toward the seven at great speeds. It did not possess any sort of swordsmanship pose Von had ever seen; Romulo’s legs kicked the ground and launched him forward, his large longsword lagging slightly behind the grinning monster. “Begin,” Romulo muttered, “our duelo bonito.”

“Tonight, we win!” Von roared.

End of Chapter 20,

"Beat faster, my Royal Heartbeat."