Rune and Ruin

Seeds of the Gods - 16 - Broken Stalks

395 B.C.E. - House of the Senate, City of Rune, Early Summer, Month of Junius

In His Memory

"If the shapers continue southward, they will have no trouble attacking our city," Falx warned... again to no avail. The males facing him mumbled and groaned but refused to permit him to take over the other three legions.

"No one will attack Rune. Not with the great Fyrrin here." The sarcasm dripped heavily from Flavian, Cassius' cousin. The male's kin, the Denatti family, was the most vocal of Falx's opponents as they angled for more and more of the spoils of war.

Falx smiled coldly at Flavian. "I will not be here. I will be in in the field."

"With your Acera whore?" An unknown voice shouted out. The Senate floor erupted in shouting and noise.

Falx's demon rippled with agitation at the insult to his female. Fuming, Falx sneered, "Careful cur," his hands curling into loose fists to hide the trembling shift to claws. His demon's eyes flared red.

"Will you truly leave Rune again, General?" Another voice called out. This one sounded worried. Falx looked around until he spotted the speaker, an old friend of his father's.

"Eventually," Falx held the man's gaze as he purposely kept his answer vague. He wished he could tell these men to go straight to the Underworld, but he was waiting for his father's entrance onto the Senate floor, hesitating to make any errors of movement. His father always had a plan. "If I do not lead Rune's army, why should I stay?"

Grumbles and shouts ensued again, but no consensus, no decision. Falx was driven crazy by their hesitation; their indecision was foreign to him. Warnings of attack, and still, these old males shuffled their feet.

Male after male tried to regain control over the Senate floor, but no one succeeded until a voice called out, "If the Warlord refuses to defend our city, then let's move on. The next discussion will be the removal of the Elder Fyrrin from the Senate." The words dripped from the withered lips of Flavian's grandfather with a poorly-hidden malice.

Falx was too late to escape from the Senate floor. The cavernous space was shaped like a bowl and he was surrounded on all sides by Tasuri warriors, private guards of the Senators in attendance that day.

Roaring, blood splattered as Falx fought against the many claws and hands that forced his submission, but he was caught unawares and was trapped quickly. Falx flexed against the chains keeping him prisoner. He could feel the berserker's blood thrumming through his demon into his veins. Mouth agape, he looked upward, muscles straining as his wings thrashed helplessly on his back.

Dogs. Filthy mongrels. Backstabbing arrogant fools, the entire Senate could go drown. "You are exiling my father," Falx repeated the words in disbelief.

"He has stolen from our coffers for the last time," snarled one of the Feducis.

"I have delivered back that wealth threefold," Falx managed to choke out, feeling his demons stretch inside of him, flexing his claws and wings. The chains stung, imbued with acid to keep him from the Change. The humiliation of being treated like an errant, out-of-control hatchling barely flickered through his head in his utter shock.

"You are not your father," Tems said quietly, acting as the emperor's representative of his House.

Falx seethed, baring his fangs at his lifelong friend. Tems had no loyalty to the elder Fyrrin; Falx knew that. Tems lacked loyalty to any of the old guard of Rune, but this? This dishonor was too heavy a burden to endure.

The Senate's first salvo had ended pater familias, effectively taking Falx's prowess on the battlefield away from his father's legacy. Now, they were exiling the ruler of House Fyrrin from the sacred halls of the Senate entirely. Betrayal tasted like ash in his mouth. Instead of adhering to tradition, these males brayed like the jackasses they were. The squawking senators overlooked that the war with Veii had taken ten years to succeed. Falx merely finished what his father had started.