Tales of the Vangen: The Siege of Middengard (Book 2)

Chapter 22: Answers

{I don't know what love is, the kind that's like a secret you share with only one person. My mother never told me what it's like and my father was too busy drinking himself to death to show me. Of course I know what love is between brothers, between comrades. You cannot become a leader of men without loving them in some capacity. And yet whenever I am near that woman, that tribal chieftain we saved in the Medial all those days back, I cannot help but feel my heart begin to flutter, and it scares me. Forget the horrors of war, love is the most frightening thing of them all.}

-Chronicler-Captain Libro, an excerpt transcribed from his personal journals

It was dark now, the evening sun having long since fled across the western skyline leaving behind a bruised night swirling with darkened mist. A warm fire crackled close to Libro, filling his tent with warm light, and yet he could not have been more cold inside. The Archive sat splayed open upon the table, its pages brimming with scribbled ink. It was one of the few things in his life he found himself able to do when fear tore away at him. His trepidation of facing the Empress had been at the forefront of his thoughts after his conversation with Elba. Strange how she'd acted when asking the name of her tribe, but then again these were strange times indeed.

Libro dropped his quill into the bottle of ink and snapped the book shut. He'd wasted enough time holding off the inevitable. His crew needed those cannons and Ohban needed her money. His fear meant nothing in the long run. With a heavy sigh he leaned back and shut his eyes, felt the pain in his leg slowly slip away as sleep took hold. Time to meet his maker.

A chill breeze rippled past his shoulders and she appeared. The tent flap slithered back once more as the Empress came into view. Libro could only watch helplessly as before as she slinked in like a hungry serpent, her bright white mask glinting in the firelight, cold, pale limbs weaving effortlessly in the thick, dreamy haze.

"You have returned," The Empress said, her voice cool and calm as still water. And yet Libro knew of the predator that hid just beneath, ready to snap him up like the insignificant bug he was.

"I have." he murmured.

"And?"

"The siege has not entirely gone as planned, your majesty."

The Empress narrowed her gaze. "How so?"

Libro licked at his dry lips. Now was not the time for fear. Now was the time for action. No matter how much he didn't want to. "The walls of the Bastion city are far too thick for our trebuchets to be effective. So far we've only managed to knick the surface and I doubt we'll breach through the first wall, even more so for the rest given the timeframe you've allowed me."

The Empress stalked towards him, the mud beneath her feet cooling and crackling with frost. "I have been told on good authority that the trebuchets would be sufficient."

Libro steeled his nerves. "It would appear that the information given to you was insufficient."

"I am never wrong," The Empress hissed.

"Of course not," he stammered out quickly. "It was your informant who was wrong."

The Empress studied him for a long time, no doubt searching for some sort of weakness, but he would give her none. His face settled into that familiar iron mask his old Captain was known for, the muscles in his forehead bunching together into a look of stern calmness. A tense moment passed in silence. Finally she said, "So, have you simply come to inform me of this error?"

"Not at all, your majesty. I have come to ask for your permission."

"With?" she grated out.

"A Tarkosh mercenary by the name of Black Ohban has approached us with a lucrative offer. She and her wisemen, as she calls them, have created a weapon of metal and Austerland black powder that could tear down Middengard's walls in a fraction of the time it would have taken us normally. All they ask in return," and he paused. "Is to be paid for their services."