The reaper’s skeletal face wore an expression that Hector didn’t recognize. Was that... annoyance? Mixed with anger, perhaps.
‘I’m going for it,’ said Garovel.
‘Going for what?’ Hector asked.
Instead of answering him, Garovel drifted forward and began speaking rather loudly in Valgan. Whatever the Sandlords had been saying was lost as everyone turned to Garovel.
Of course, Hector couldn’t tell what was being said, but there was only one thing that he could imagine Garovel would be telling them here and now.
All things considered, the Sandlords hadn’t required much convincing. If anything, they seemed relieved. Perhaps they’d been hoping this whole time that Hector and Garovel would take the Rainlords off their hands and had just been too polite to come right out and ask.
As soon as they had their consensus, the entire atmosphere of the meeting shifted. Word was sent almost immediately to the Rainlords in Egas about the offer of asylum, and from there, the meeting became about how they might actually be able to sneak four hundred fugitives from the Vanguard out of the country.
It was very quickly agreed upon that simply trying to fly everyone to Atreya was not going to work. Even if the Vanguard wasn’t watching all their borders like a hawk, the Lorentian government’s Air Traffic Control would certainly be suspicious of a sudden fleet of private jets in their air space.
The Sandlords were talking about splitting the Rainlords up into several groups and trying to sneak them out separately in all different directions.
But Hector saw that expression on Garovel’s face again.
‘Please excuse my use of Mohssian here,’ said Garovel, ‘but I would like my servant to understand what I am about to ask of you.’
A heavy silence elapsed as the Sandlords waited. Lord Abbas gave a nod from the other end of the table.
Garovel returned it gratefully, then addressed the bearded man on Abbas’ left. ‘As I recall,’ said Garovel, ‘Hahl Duxan controls a passage to the Undercrust, no?’
A dark serial novel. Set in a modern fantasy world called Eleg. Mature language. Updates every day at noon PST by ~400 words.
Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Sunday, March 6, 2016
Page 1187
The separation had been rather sudden, but it couldn’t have been helped. The Sandlords had learned that the Vanguard was much nearer than anyone realized. Apparently, they had been repelling Abolish forces in Calthos for the past few days, keeping them away from the border with Sair.
Hector heard the names Iceheart and Lamont a few times. They both referred to the same person, he eventually realized, and according to Garovel, Lamont was a Vanguardian who wielded as much power as Ivan or Gohvis.
And even though there’d been no official announcement, the Sandlords seemed to believe that Lamont would show up in Moaban any day now--probably due to all the media attention surrounding the attack and subsequent evacuation.
When the meeting finally began, Garovel translated for Hector as usual. A few arguments broke out among the Sandlords, which weren’t exactly new, but this time, they had more vitriol behind them. Hector could feel the growing dread in the air, the desperation. Several times, they talked about how there could be no more delays, how Iceheart would make the decision for them if this stalemate continued.
Hector also noted that Jada Najir, despite attending every meeting as her Hahl’s representative, never spoke. She only ever observed. Which might have been for the best, he figured. The other Hahls were not exactly pleased with Asad and his family at the moment, even if no legal consequences had been discussed as of yet.
As the meeting drew out and familiar talking points were retread, Hector began to feel his attention slipping. This was going to be another day of indecision, after all, it seemed. If he’d known that, he would’ve put this time to better use.
Then Garovel stopped translating for him, and Hector’s attention snapped.
‘...Garovel?’ said Hector.
Hector heard the names Iceheart and Lamont a few times. They both referred to the same person, he eventually realized, and according to Garovel, Lamont was a Vanguardian who wielded as much power as Ivan or Gohvis.
And even though there’d been no official announcement, the Sandlords seemed to believe that Lamont would show up in Moaban any day now--probably due to all the media attention surrounding the attack and subsequent evacuation.
When the meeting finally began, Garovel translated for Hector as usual. A few arguments broke out among the Sandlords, which weren’t exactly new, but this time, they had more vitriol behind them. Hector could feel the growing dread in the air, the desperation. Several times, they talked about how there could be no more delays, how Iceheart would make the decision for them if this stalemate continued.
Hector also noted that Jada Najir, despite attending every meeting as her Hahl’s representative, never spoke. She only ever observed. Which might have been for the best, he figured. The other Hahls were not exactly pleased with Asad and his family at the moment, even if no legal consequences had been discussed as of yet.
As the meeting drew out and familiar talking points were retread, Hector began to feel his attention slipping. This was going to be another day of indecision, after all, it seemed. If he’d known that, he would’ve put this time to better use.
Then Garovel stopped translating for him, and Hector’s attention snapped.
‘...Garovel?’ said Hector.
Page 1186
‘I wonder what he and Asad will think about the fact that we actually talked to the Dry God,’ said Hector.
Garovel chortled. ‘I hope they’re jealous.’
Soon enough, Hector had to start heading back. Garovel kept going on about history, but Hector was only half-listening now. His mind had returned to worrying about the present. The Sandlords were scheduled to reconvene this afternoon, and now that the evacuation of Moaban was nearly finished, their excuse for delaying was more or less gone.
Hector could understand their reluctance to make a decision. They were stuck between the Vanguard and the Rainlords. One way or another, they had to betray someone’s trust. And of course, the well-being of their own subjects was at stake--and wasn’t that a lord’s priority?
It was enough to give Hector pause. He was a lord, too. Technically. This whole time, he felt like he hadn’t really understood what that meant--the responsibility it implied. And the potential consequences. He certainly didn’t envy the Sandlords’ position right now, but he was realizing that he might very well find himself in a similar one, someday.
He arrived at Dunehall again as the sun neared the height of its arc in the sky. From the outside, the castle looked largely the same. Hector supposed that was one advantage of being covered almost entirely in sand: structural vulnerabilities were hidden. Apart from the scarcely noticeable lump or depression in the sand’s surface, Dunehall seemed no different.
Most of the Sandlords were waiting in tents all along the castle grounds. The Rainlords were no longer here. They’d headed for Egas the previous day, while Hector and a handful of representatives had stayed behind at the request of Abbas.
Garovel chortled. ‘I hope they’re jealous.’
Soon enough, Hector had to start heading back. Garovel kept going on about history, but Hector was only half-listening now. His mind had returned to worrying about the present. The Sandlords were scheduled to reconvene this afternoon, and now that the evacuation of Moaban was nearly finished, their excuse for delaying was more or less gone.
Hector could understand their reluctance to make a decision. They were stuck between the Vanguard and the Rainlords. One way or another, they had to betray someone’s trust. And of course, the well-being of their own subjects was at stake--and wasn’t that a lord’s priority?
It was enough to give Hector pause. He was a lord, too. Technically. This whole time, he felt like he hadn’t really understood what that meant--the responsibility it implied. And the potential consequences. He certainly didn’t envy the Sandlords’ position right now, but he was realizing that he might very well find himself in a similar one, someday.
He arrived at Dunehall again as the sun neared the height of its arc in the sky. From the outside, the castle looked largely the same. Hector supposed that was one advantage of being covered almost entirely in sand: structural vulnerabilities were hidden. Apart from the scarcely noticeable lump or depression in the sand’s surface, Dunehall seemed no different.
Most of the Sandlords were waiting in tents all along the castle grounds. The Rainlords were no longer here. They’d headed for Egas the previous day, while Hector and a handful of representatives had stayed behind at the request of Abbas.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)