Fourthmonth, 9995 Dk, Later That Night
We had no need of sleep and so we spent our time wandering the streets of Kusseth. We were unarmed but the individuals that often waylaid travelers were a savvy sort and had a knack for choosing their targets wisely, though there were only two of us we were left unmolested in darkened alleys and while we walked lonely roads. I could sense them out there observing us though.
We puffed on pipes as we strode across the red brick streets, our eyes piercing the gloom of night to take in the sights of wood and brick buildings covered in graffiti and jury-rigged repairs.
"How is it that this place continues to be such a power in this land? Kusseth, A nation whose buildings and streets are covered in the shit of a thousand reeking mortals as they go about their lives, how can they remain so strong?"
Callifay puffed quietly on his pipe before responding, "They are not as long lived as you and I, Cenn. They have no perception of the larger world as we do. They see these streets and think of wars of past years and feel their time slipping by and must rush about to compensate, throwing caution, morals, and peace to the wind. Time to you and is is merely the tick of our blood healing our cut ears, to them it is the harbinger of things left undone and a life left unlived."
I paused and puffed on my own pipe before responding, "I meant how can a nation whose people quite literally shit in the middle of a street be such a dominant power in this land?"
I gestured before us towards a freshly left pile in the center of the street. His eyes fell on it and he laughed. We moved around it and continued our walk.
His laughter ceased and he said, "I still stand by my statement," with a smile. I had nothing to respond with, other than to return his boyish grin.
The smile fell away from my lips and I sighed, "We are old, Callifay, so old."
He pursed his lips and when he exhaled the smoke took the shape of an expanding ring.
"Do you feel your vitality ebbing away, brother?"
I shook my head and said, "No. I've spilled too much blood for that to be a risk, yet I am tired. Weary. So much of my life and who I am has been being the bloodthirsty cretin that freely slays anything without a care, the bastard that cares nothing for life or morals or kindness."
We stopped and faced each other on the streets near a flickering gaslight and he put a hand to my shoulder and let it rest there.
"Are you saying that is not who and what you are?"
I shook my head, "No. I am a murderous bastard. I am war and death personified."
"Then what is this bemoaning of your age I hear? Do you need a nap then?"
I chuckled, "No. I need no nap."
His hand moved from my shoulder and cupped my cheek briefly, then he spoke in a not unkind tone.
"Then shut up, Cenn. I did not lure you from the forests to this place so that you could have a quiet moment of pity and despair."
"I do not despair," I said as we resumed our walk.
"Then what?"
"It is as it was when my wife and I spoke quietly on the field of battle about our wayward son and his desire to return to the light."
"Ah," he said and nodded.
"I wonder if I could be more than a mercenary, the creature that the nations of this land call on when they wish to scorch the earth itself of life."
"What would you do? Paint? Teach?"
I chuckled and tapped the burned tobacco out of my pipe before replying.
"I could live as Volung I think."
Callifay snorted and shook his head.
"Volung is a mercenary captain with a fortress. Do you wish to build a city then?"
"No, but he has something lasting. He has a home, a place where his presence would be missed, he has a wife and son."
"Are you a fool, Cenn?" Iron had crept into Callifay's voice and his eyes turned cold.
"Remember your place, brother." I growled.
"Everything Volung possesses you possess, and what you have is of greater value. There is a place you could call home, a place your presence is missed, a place that will last. Do you forget our homeland and those that love you so easily?"
"No I do not forget our homeland, but that is a place we cannot return. Nor do I forget those who hold affection for me in their hearts."
He gave a nod of understanding but spoke again, "We could return there in an instant if you but willed it and you know this. We could return and wage war as gods of death and destruction and we too could have kingdoms as Volung does. You know this, do not pretend to be ignorant of our past."
"I do not pretend to be ignorant of anything. I only mean that I wish to have something lasting here in this land. This land is full of anger and love and vitality of every sort, it is alive. The races of the poorly named Known World strive for great things, from the most common street shitter to the greatest of rulers. They all have dreams and goals that extend beyond what the next hour will be spent wasting time on. It is not so in our homeland, despite my attempts to cull the uselessness out of our people."
"I understand your meaning now I think. What would you do then, Cenn? Would you teach or paint? I ask that in seriousness this time."
"I do not know. I cannot leave my reavers leaderless, and I cannot cede them to Laram, though he is the most deserving."
"If Volung were to ally with his son in command of your reavers, no country in this land could stand against Volungshemle. They would conquer this place with ease."
I smiled and my forehead itched beneath my bandanna.
"What would it be like to free a land held in Volung's iron grip?"
Callifay was silent for a moment and then spoke, "You would drown this land in blood simply for the challenge of freeing it once more? Simply to free yourself from the burden of leadership and pit yourself against Volung?"
I shrugged and said, "Think of it, brother. Imagine the blood, the battle, you and I freeing a land from the grip of a tyrant. I have been a tyrant before, a leader and king, a conquerer, and an executioner. Never a freedom fighter."
"Would you go to such great lengths then? Alter the face of a continent, merely for the thrill of it?"
I nodded, "I would, but my actions would alter nothing. I grow weary of being the leader and it is well known that Laram has been groomed for mastery of the band. He or William. They are the only two experienced enough. It is fate that if I should step aside, one of them will lead the band."
"Could you do it though? Could you give up your reavers and walk off into the forest alone?"
"Not without you, no."
He smiled and we walked in silence as I thought. This was not the first time I had pondered this potential turn of events. Whenever I closed my eyes an ocean of blood was behind them, it was my nature. I had no desire to ever stop killing or waging war, but I grew weary of leadership. I grew weary of keeping the cutthroats from each other and ensuring no innocents were victims of their ravages. I kept the worst men of this continent together and in one place, I kept the wolves penned so that the sheep could run free.
Each of my reavers was a murderer and each of them was truly a leader of men. Any one of them could have cut away a chunk of any nation to call his own and rule as a bandit lord. It took every ounce of violence and willpower I could muster to direct their urges in such a fashion that it did not drown the continent in senseless bloodshed, yet I contemplated relinquishing my control and allowing that to happen anyway. I had taken responsibility for the bastards and now I had grown tired of that responsibility and sought to unleash them so that I could slay them and free myself from the responsibility. I sighed, I could not allow Laram to control my band of reavers and let he and his father destroy every nation in this land in their quest for dominance. I sought battle for the challenge and the thrill of it, to feel my heart pounding in my chest, Volung merely wanted territory and to kill those not of his kind.
"I cannot do it," I whispered, "I cannot give up control of them and I cannot let Laram and his father do what we both know they would."
He grabbed me by the shoulders and brought his face close to my own.
"I know your nature as well as you know it. If you were angered and had a blade out, if your blood were up, you would do this in a heartbeat because it would mean never ending conflict. You would love it and never regret the decision, but you are quiet and at peace in this place though, you are rational."
I nodded. I had always been a creature at odds with myself. In battle there was no line I would not cross, in peace it was different. That was my nature, to be a destroyer and a preserver. I had tried to change it and it had almost killed me. I would never be anything but what I was and I accepted that and would make no apologies for anything I did ever again.
"You said you had never been a freedom fighter, Cenn."
I nodded again, my eyes downcast and not looking at his face so close to my own.
"You have been a leader though, a master, have you been a servant?"
I raised my face and cocked my head to the side, "Go on."
"If you grow weary of leadership, give it up. If you feel that Volung will be too pointlessly destructive a force with his son leading your men, do not grant it to him."
"William? He is too unstable. He could never hold the-"
"Shh." He held a finger to my lips and went on. "Give up your place as leader of Cenn's Reavers and grant me mastery over them."
I mumbled something around his finger.
"I once led men into battle under your banner before. I made men that could not stand my presence follow me into battle to kill their brothers in your name and for your glory. I could make them follow me."
I moved my head, "And what would you do if Laram challenged you?"
His eyes were wide and bright, his tongue was licking his lips in anticipation as he said, "Kill him."
"What would my place be in your band?"
He smiled, "You would be the ghost at my back, the carrion crow that followed in my wake or announced my coming. You would recruit thugs and murderers to my banner and collect payment from the weaklings and tyrants that hired us. You would be as I am to you now."
"The men would not follow you with me standing at your back, Callifay."
"Of course not, Cenn the Reaver must die through accident or assassination. I must take his place through violence, and you will become my aide. My shadowy second that men would not obey unless forced to."
I gestured to my eyes and hair, "I am distinct and not easily forgettable."
"Hair can be dyed, nails painted, your ears kept perpetually scarred and scabby or hidden under a larger bandanna."
"My eye?"
"Covered semi-permanently or cut out, you've suffered worse."
I nodded, "True, though I like the idea of losing an eye less than other wounds I've sustained."
His eyes were luminescent in the night, almost lantern-like. This as much as his words told of his excitement.
"You've thought on this," I said.
He shook his head, "No. It is a brilliant solution to your weariness though. Can you understand the challenge of always being stuck behind the scenes, never able to impose your will on those that think little of you in the band?"
"Are you that miserable? Is being my closest confidant so poor a place for you? Is being the only creature so loved by me that I've not shed his blood so beneath you? My truest children, even my wife, have all felt my blade at their necks, but never Callifay of the-"
He smiled sadly and his finger halted my lips before the hand moved to cup my cheek once again.
"I cannot be miserable with you so near my brother. It has been ages since I've commanded men though and I would be a liar if I said the thought of cracking the skulls of those that refused to follow me and commanding men to die in battle did not excite me. The question is, can you put aside power and respect?"
I nodded, "And what if I grow tired of my place at your side, Callifay? Will you then step aside and once more reverse our roles?"
He stepped away from me, a sad smile still writ across his lips, "Do you think I've the power to stop you, Cenn?"
"Oh wipe that sad little face away, we will do this," I said with a smile.
He grinned from ear to ear and in the blink of an eye he put his lips upon mine and let them rest there for a moment before stepping away from me. His grin, one that would not look out of place on a young boy of another race, was infectious and I was soon smiling as stupidly as he.
"What now then?" He asked as we filled our pipes with fresh tobacco and relit them.
"I think we go to Meroteth once more."
"Why Hell?"
I smirked at him, "It was in ancient Meroteth that Cenn the Reaver was truly born, I think it fitting that it shall be the place he goes to die."
No comments:
Post a Comment