The time that King Arandall spent enthusing his engineering hobby and sweet talking his blacksmiths and associated craftsmen was not time wasted. It simply took that long to gather the other men who needed to hear Lucius’ report. When they gathered, and before the feast had been prepared, Lucius was brought to the High Hall. Not the Grand Hall, for which public ceremony and grievance claims were made, but the smaller twin with a balcony window overlooking the sea. It had a cool breeze and didn’t radiate heat back as much.

King Arandall sat down on the old throne, not his own seat but one from a dead family nearly a century back. It had the same historic craftsmanship as the other noble thrones across Vassermark, but no other home. When the Arandall family absorbed the properties and later redistributed the holdings, the throne lingered behind.

Everyone else had to stand.

Danyl von Ashe, the military lord of the Ashe family and Duke of Jarnmark, took the king’s right side. Duke Jules von Feugard, lord of the eastern plains, stood on his left. Lastly, an unintroduced man Lucius surmised to be the king’s spymaster. The most powerful men in Vassermark stood before him. Though, of course, if women were to be included, Acheliah was merely on her way and not yet there.

“Now then,” King Arandall said, gesturing at Lucius. “Tell us what has happened.”

“A blitz war,” Lucius said, his hands held behind his back. “Some of the locals that Lord Raymi employed in the expeditions to the wastelands spurred a general rebellion among the locals. A merchant’s son by the name of Medorosa Canta swore a vendetta, which catalyzed the uprising.”

“And where did it begin?” Duke Ashe asked.

“In Puerto Faro, across the southern see from Ley Port.”

Duke Feugard stroked his drooping mustache. “We had that town garrisoned, did we not? Giordana is a land of rabble and city states. They don’t even have an army.”

“Yes, sir. The garrison forces were taken by surprise and forced from the city the night of the vendetta.”

King Arandall said, “Weren’t you the one in charge of keeping that city?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you lost it?”

“That is correct.”

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

“By the time the troops could be mustered in the night, the fort had already been lost to fire. Since Lord Raymi had already sailed east and concluded his work, I judged a retreat to join forces with him was appropriate.”

Duke Ashe sneered, crossing his arms. “And you couldn’t retake the city?”

Lucius sucked in breath, inflating his chest to match the lord’s disdain. “I could have, but we were outnumbered already, and there was no guarantee that the ring leader would be captured. He demonstrated repeatedly an uncanny ability to gather fresh troops. He did so in Puerto Vida and in the Ash Fall Mountains, adding Erdro Karakale to his retinue. If I recaptured Puerto Faro, no one would have warned Lord Raymi in time.”

King Arandall arched an eyebrow. “Did he have some particular stigmata to do this?”

Lucius shook his head. “His stigmata was more suited for infiltration. He gathered the men by appealing to sentiments for independence.”

Duke Feugard groaned. “We should have rushed them the way our ancestors did. Put their able men on spikes. It would have fit their barbarous justice. Just like–”

The king put up his hand to silence him. “The yellow king is mere history. I won’t allow subjects, even colonial subjects, of my crown to be brutalized like that. The point was to integrate the coast, civilize them, and make a bulwark against Aillessterra. I suppose now we’ll have more pirates than ever. What of Rackvidd?”

“Secure, your highness. The mountain lord Karakale broke part of the wall, but it will be rebuilt soon. The men who took up arms against us were crushed between the defenders of Rackvidd and my own forces.”

Duke Ashe narrowed his eyes. “So you didn’t make it inside the city yourself? Did you not reach them in time to warn them?”

“No, sir. A volcanic eruption blocked the road to Rackvidd, and we had to double back. Fighting with Canta’s rearguard delayed us further, which gave Karakale time to undermine the city wall. I was only able to cut him down mere moments after the collapse.”

That earned him approving nods from the other men. “You did it yourself?” the spymaster asked, scratching at his muddled beard, one of a dozen scars itching.

“Yes,” Lucius said. “I judged him to be the greatest threat and defeated him in single combat.”

“And how did you do that?” Duke Ashe asked, inspecting Lucius’ frame. He had never met the real Solhart, but a military man such as him kept tabs on the abilities of people like Lucius. Despite getting the garrison responsibility, that post had not been earned. What’s more, after nearly drowning in the sea, Lucius had yet to rebuild his strength much.

The only thing Lucius could do was tug the neck of his tunic down and show them part of the divine sigil across his breast. “I manifested a blessing from the gods which saved my life. I’ve put it to good use.”

“How lucky of you,” the spymaster said, leaning against the wall.

The king scowled. “Yes, very lucky indeed, but what of the ley? That was the whole purpose of sending so many thousands of men south. Was a mine secured or not? And even if it was, how are we to get any of the ley without control of the ports?”

At last, Lucius could let out his breath and smile. “They ley has been secured, and as we speak, Lord Raymi is mobilizing to recapture Puerto Faro. The victory at Rackvidd was quite decisive. Ships will arrive in the next few days carrying the bounty of the wastelands. That was achieved flawlessly.” He didn’t add how expensive, in gold and blood, it had been. That would have dampened the king’s mood.

“Well then, we should celebrate. This is a tale of victory,” King Arandall said.

“A tempered one to be sure,” Duke Ashe said.

“One which should be rewarded appropriately,” Duke Feugard said.

The spymaster strode to the door. “Always opportunities to put a young man to work. I’ll prepare some suggestions.”

“Prepare an announcement too,” King Arandall said, and slapped his hands onto the arms of his throne. He rose, decisively ending the meeting. “We will convene again when the ley arrives. That barrel you brought me has given you that much time to be the hero of the night at least.”

Then the door was opened. Everyone but Lucius flinched, resisting the urge to shrink back. He had to turn around to see why. Expecting assassins, he instead saw Acheliah smiling.The sun struck her dramatically from the balcony, putting a richness to the shimmering color of her hair and dress. At once a murky lavender and then nearly blonde, like the many faces of the ocean itself. Her smile shifted from welcoming to nearly predatory as she noticed Lucius.

“Boys… who’s this?” she asked. Guards snapped to attention, glancing at their king for direction as she moved in. No sign was given.

Lucius fought the instinct to fight. She had the same presence as a godling, more strength than the parasite he fought in the south, more age than the abomination we sealed beyond Jarnmark. He had a wariness that I had mistakenly put into him, from my own concern that she might kill me.

She clued into it at once.

“This is Lucius von Solhart, returned from the southern campaign,” Duke Ashe said, putting himself between her and his liege.

Acheliah bent over, bringing her eye level with him, and smiled. “Oh, oh, oh, I’ve heard all about you. I’m so glad we finally get to meet… Cassius, there will be a feast tonight, won’t there?”

“A small one,” King Cassius von Arandall said.

“I’ll join. It sounds absolutely delightful to have a war hero be my cupboy. Doesn’t that sound like an honor… Lucius?”

A threat, an insult, a humiliation, all in one.

Lucius’ body drew ever closer to the edge. She was a mere handful of words away from pulling our charade to tatters, and there was no end of things she could do to him, immortal or not. Until I recovered my spent strength, or more, there was little I could do to stop him from being her plaything, if she so chose. He didn’t even have a sword on him to put his trust into. All he had was his tongue.

“I didn’t know the angel of Hearth Bay was so easily courted. To think that I would be rewarded by sharing wine with a beauty of the gods.”

Acheliah laughed. “Oh, you are a dangerous one aren’t you. Save some of that for tonight, why don’t you?” she said, strolling past him. “Now, then little Cassius, take a walk with me. We have to talk about the temples.”

Duke Ashe gritted his teeth as she put her arm around the king and walked him out. It was Duke Feugard that shot him a dirty look for it. And in that split moment, Lucius realized his most likely ally was in fact one of the most dangerous men in the world for him to befriend. Making himself useful to Duke Ashe could catapult him through the strata of influence, but came with the disastrous likelihood that he would be introduced to his daughters and nieces. Perhaps for marriage prospects, or simply for bonds of friendship. Danyl von Ashe was a military man, and a powerful leader. He had fought back Skaldheim half a dozen times, serving the king at the cost of rarely seeing his own family.

But his family had seen Lucius so long ago.

It would have been better to get into bed with a snake.