Chapter 378: Fealty of the Valley Tribes

The white fox goddess Lin-Lu sat on Caligo’s shoulder and spoke to him in hushed whispers. To most of the survivors, it seemed as if the black feather-cloaked man was muttering to himself thanks to the fox’s cloaking magic hiding her from others. But to Nokti she knew how special this moment was. A dragon goddess, a violet goddess, and an ebon god were all gathered in one place, amidst the ruins of the mortals’ campsite.

How long had it been since three gods had gathered in Dusk Valley?

Nokti didn’t know but she suspected it had been many, many years.

“What is Crow doing here with that dragon?” Marek muttered angrily. “I thought he left to hunt dragons, not ride them.”

Nokti glanced up at the dire human. She had found him collapsed on the ground. Like all the other mages, his breathing was ragged and his gait was unsteady. They were all still recovering from whatever the dragonbane had done.

Or was about to do, Nokti supposed.

If her god hadn’t arrived she shuddered to think what might have happened to them all.

Nokti was keenly aware that dragonbane consumed people’s souls. A quick death would have been the desired outcome instead.

Although, Lin-Lu had seemed unaffected by the dragonbane’s strange ability. Perhaps, the fox goddess would have whisked her away like she had last night when the dragon had attacked.

“You don’t know, do you?” Marek’s voice cut into her thoughts.

“No, I… don’t,” Nokti admitted.

The last time she had seen the dragon it was threatening to kill them all. Though she thought it best not to mention that part.

Caligo noticed their approach and smiled underneath his feathered hood. “Ah, Marek, there you are. Just on time.”

“On… time?” Marek said through clenched teeth. “On time for what? There is nothing left here! Your Unildyr beast destroyed everything!”

“Then you are not looking hard enough,” Caligo said with a firm but soft voice.

“Why did you bring that dragon here?” Marek asked with balled fists. “I had it all under control. The Adder chieftess was going to join us! We were going to make an alliance!”

“I’m not interested in a second-rate alliance.”

Marek frowned. “What?”

“Sylaril and her Adder Tribe might have joined our cause, but how many other tribes wouldn’t have? How many tribes would have walked away from this meeting because they simply did not trust you and rightfully so I might add. You have always been a bit unorthodox when it comes to your people’s traditions. Still, that is what I like about you.”

“You’re saying you sabotaged this meeting on purpose? Are you kidding me!? You were the one who ordered Vaughn to attack Undergrowth. You sparked the armies of Undergrowth into war. This whole meeting was your plan!”

“You’re right and you’ve played your part splendidly. Now sit back while I play mine.”

“What in all the bloody Realms are you talking about, Crow!?”

“MAREK!” Sylaril screamed. The vampiress’ scarlet eyes burned with rage. She stalked towards them with a retinue of guards behind her.

The remaining survivors quickly surrounded Crow, Nokti, and Marek, though they kept their distance from the sleeping dragonbane and the dragon who seemed to be staring into nothingness. Dawn stood several meters away, hiding with her unconscious brother, though she was ready and waiting to intervene if needed.

“Is this what you call a demonstration of your ‘weapon’?” Sylaril pointed her golden cane at the dragonbane.

Marek stepped forward and raised his hands placatingly, “Chieftess Sylaril, I swear to you this wasn’t supposed to happen. The beast is usually quite calm. I promise you, we will do whatever it takes to make this right.”

“There is no making this right! Our brothers and sisters are dead! The Meeting of Dawn is a sacred rite! Violence is forbidden!” Sylaril took a deep breath and the rage in her eyes cooled to frigid anger, “You have betrayed everything our people stand for. Chief Skogard was right about you, Marek. You are a danger to our people. As the overseer of this Meeting, I vote that the Cairn Tribe be exiled from our lands.”

The elderly chieftess Agnes stepped forward and raised her trembling hand, “I second the notion.”

Sylaril stared at Marek coldly, “All in favor.”

The remaining chieftains yelled in agreement without hesitation.

“The vote is unanimous,” Sylaril said. “Marek, you and your tribe are henceforth banished from all the lands of Dusk Valley.”

Marek swallowed hard, “Please, don’t do this. You need us. Without my forces, you cannot hope to defeat the combined might of Hollow Shade and Undergrowth.”

Sylaril stomped her cane on the ground, “Silence! You no longer have the right to speak in this Meeting of Dawn. Take your monster and go.”

“I apologize, I think there has been a bit of a misunderstanding,” Caligo spoke up.

Sylaril turned her cold gaze on him, “And who are you?”

He sauntered forward with his arms wide open, “You may call me Crow.”

“Were you the one riding the dragon?” she muttered.

“I was, yes.”

“And what does an esteemed dragon rider want with us?” Sylaril asked warily.

Her lamia guardsmen slithered forward and stood between Caligo and his chieftess.

Caligo ignored the lamia’s scowl and looked past him, “As I said, I think there has been a bit of a misunderstanding regarding this whole ‘banishment’ business. You can’t banish the Cairn Tribe.”

The elder chieftess, Agnes, stepped forward and shook her head with a frown. “I don’t know who you are, dragon rider, but I’m afraid even you do not speak among the council of chieftains.”

Caligo chuckled, “It seems that none of you understand. I’m not saying you shouldn’t banish the Cairn Tribe. I’m saying you can’t.”

His figure blurred in a flash of speed and he suddenly appeared in front of the old woman. Before Anges could react, Caligo gripped her face in the palm of his hand and lifted her off the ground. She cried out in pain and tried to pry his hand away but his grip did not budge.

“Crow, what are you doing!?” Marek yelled in bewilderment.

“You have all failed to understand one crucial point, this is not a democracy,” Caligo said lightly.

“Let go of her!” Sylaril screamed.

Caligo turned to her and smiled. “No.”

Sylaril’s lamia guard rushed forward with his spear and stabbed at Caligo's neck. The god’s left hand snatched the spear mid-thrust. The lamia’s eyes widened in shock as the spear suddenly crumbled to ash.

Caligo’s free hand shot forward like a javelin through the lamia’s chest and ripped out his heart in one smooth motion. The beastman gasped a hollow breath and fell over, dead.

The crowd suddenly broke into chaotic shouts of terror.

Caligo raised Agnes’ dangling body and shook her like a ragdoll, uncaring to her painful moans. “Now, I can see that your people’s pacifist traditions have addled your minds and have made you all unable to distinguish real danger when it is staring at you in your face, so I’ll make this clear. I have gathered you all here today for one simple purpose. From this day forward, the valley tribes will all serve under one banner. The banner of the dusk king, Marek, first of his name.”

Sylaril paled in fear, “W-What are you —?”

“—Anyone who objects will die here, today.” Caligo slowly closed his hand around Agne’s face. His clawed fingers broke through her skin and dug into the bone until her skull cracked in a sickening crunch and her body went slack. Blood poured over Caligo’s fingers and dripped down over the old woman’s neck. He cast the corpse aside and tossed the lamia’s heart at Sylaril’s feet.

Sylaril staggered back and almost fell over. Her mouth opened and closed with trembling lips but no words came out.

Caligo pointed his bloody hand at the remaining horrified chieftains. “I suggest you think about your next moments very carefully. To those who pretend to pledge their fealty to king Marek only to later betray your oaths once you’ve arrived ‘safely’ back at your tribes, all I have to say is this; I know where your tribes reside, I know where you hide. I have a dragon and I have Unildyr beasts. There is nowhere you can escape me in this realm, run where you will. My monsters and the Cairn’s warriors will hunt your people down. They will slaughter your men, rape your women, and enslave your children. And believe I do not care if we were already at war with the Great Cities, I promise you we will make sure to eradicate your tribes first.” He looked around with a casual smile, “Was that clear enough?”

Zavinti and the dragonbane raised their heads simultaneously and roared as if to prove his point.

“I thought so,” Caligo nodded.

The chieftains stared in mute terror at the monstrous beasts and the sheer destruction surrounding them. Slowly they all turned to their leader, Sylaril, for salvation.

“So, Miss Sylaril,” Caligo said nonchalantly, “What will it be? Pledge eternal fealty or death—? You know what, no. I won’t kill you, don’t worry.” He walked up to the shaking vampiress and caressed her pale cheek with his bloodstained fingers.

“How about instead I make you an example that the others will remember?” he whispered. “How about I dig my claws over your soft stomach and pull out your entrails…? Oh, but don’t worry! I’ll make sure to keep you alive, with my magic you’ll surely live… and you’ll feel it, every single visceral moment as I pry apart your rib cage and mount you on a pole for the birds to feast on your innards. Won’t that be fun?”

The golden cane slipped out of Sylaril’s numb fingers. “I-I swear my undying loyalty to M-Marek, k-king of Dusk Valley…!” she mumbled through trembling lips.

“There’s a good girl,” Caligo cooed warmly. He glanced at the other chieftains. “Well then, what shall it be?”

~~~

The sun was beginning to set by the time every remaining chieftain had knelt and sworn fealty. As for the tribes who had lost their chieftains in the dragonbane attack, they named their temporary successor from among their surviving retinue of guards and swore fealty to Marek instead.

Once the oaths had been given, each chieftain sent out an envoy to rally their armies to the banner of the Cairn Tribe. The chieftains themselves stayed at the ruined campsite in order to plan for the war ahead and to prove their loyalty. A few tents had been re-erected to serve them for the night.

Caligo sat in one such tent all by himself, save for the small white fox that sat on his lap as they read a book together.

The tent flaps were abruptly pushed open and Marek strode in with an angered gait. “What are you doing?”

Caligo didn’t react at the barged entrance. He didn’t even glance up at the dire human. He simply turned a page in his book. “I’m reading a ledger regarding the food supplies of the Flarius Tribe. It seems they have the most provisions amongst all the tribes.”

“What are you even talking about? None of that matters!”

“On the contrary, I’d argue they matter very much. We were at war, Marek. Supply lines matter. Logistics matter. If we cannot properly keep our armies fed, then we’ve already lost this war.”

The giant man grimaced and bowed his head in shame, “I understand, certainly… but why did you make me king?”

“It was always the path I had laid out for you, Lord Helene, since the night you and I made our deal.”

“This wasn’t part of our deal. I never wanted to be a king, let alone a tyrant!”

“Every lady and lord that has stylized themselves as monarchs in the Ebon Realm have all been tyrants, so relax, you’re in good company.”

“I don’t understand, what purpose does having a king serve my people? How will this help against Hollow Shade?”

Caligo calmly turned another page in his book. “You lack vision, Marek. That has always been your greatest flaw. You are driven by revenge, and while that cup is sweet, you must be careful not to drown in it. There is a future ahead of us, one in which Hollow Shade is defeated and their lords and ladies are cast down. In that future, who will you be? Do you know?”

“I… I’m not sure. I never gave it much thought,” Marek muttered. Truth be told he wasn’t certain he’d even survive this war. Making plans for the future seemed foolhardy.

“Hm.” Caligo finally looked up at Marek, though he made sure to keep his iridescent eyes hidden beneath his cowl. “I made you king because your people were scattered, the tribes always engaging in endless bickering. Now thanks to me, your people are united, they have someone to follow, someone to believe in.”

“They’ll see me as a tyrant.”

“As they should. Fear will keep them loyal because at the end of the day, they know you hate their enemies more than you hate them.”

Marek’s shoulders sagged and he sighed. He no longer seemed the larger-than-life champion fighting against the tyranny of the Hollow Shaders. Now he seemed small, a tired mortal man. “…What do you want from me? What must I do to fulfill my part of our deal? Be your puppet king?”

“Someday, you’ll understand the truth. For now, just be grateful your people are unified, they are a kingdom in their own right. And when Hollow Shade falls the Kingdom of the Valley shall take its place.”

Marek nodded reluctantly. “So what now?”

“Now you must prepare to meet the generals and lords of Undergrowth. Their armies will soon march out from Glimmer Grove forest and begin their long trek here.”

“And what is our plan of engagement exactly? Will we set the Unildyr beasts on them?”

“No, as I said, we will meet with them.”

Marek frowned in confusion, “I… I don’t understand.”

“Despite our attacks in the heart of their city, Undergrowth is not our enemy.”

“How is that possible? Their lords must be furious with the valley tribes!”

Caligo shrugged, “Yes, well, none of that will matter soon enough.”

“Why not?”

“Because when Ophelia Thorn gets here you will marry her and your marriage shall unite the city-state of Undergrowth with the newly formed Kingdom of the Valley.”

Marek’s eyes widened. “You want me to marry Lady Thorn!?”

“A queen must marry a king. Your marriage to Ophelia ensures that she will rule Hollow Shade by your side, thus ensuring her undying support for our cause.”

“How do you know she won’t betray us?”

“Ophelia cares about herself and her House’s legacy more than anything. That drow woman is a fool, but she will stay in line if she believes it will benefit her.”

“So this is really happening…”

“Yes, the dragonbane will destroy the shade walls and our armies will sweep through the city. And you will have your sweet revenge on your wretched aunt and the rest of your House once and for all. I’m sure seeing them dead will be fun, hm?”

“You say it like this is all some kind of game.”

“Funny. Someone else told me that same thing earlier today.”

Marek shook his head and turned to leave.

“Oh, before you go, a word of advice. That orichalcum spear Dawn gave you, the reason it hasn’t given you its name is not because you lack the potential to wield it; as far as humans go, you’re an optimal candidate, though if I'm being honest no human is truly suitable to wield such a weapon.”

“I’m well aware,” Marek scowled. Just holding the weapon sent pangs of pain through his arms.

“Even so, you would not be the first mortal an orichalcum weapon has found worthy.”

Marek turned to Caligo, his interest piqued, “How do I learn my spear’s true name?”

Caligo picked up Honorem from the ground beside him and balanced the giant black blade on the end of his finger. “The secret lies in the weapon itself. Each orichalcum weapon is unique, each one responds to different emotions and thoughts. Today you begged yours to reveal its name when the dragonbane attacked, but that spear you carry does not respond to desperation and neither will your subjects.”

Marek narrowed his eyes, “...Thanks for the advice.”

“Anytime.”