The Web of Iron

Chapter Two: The Duke's Meeting

It was a bright but chilly day by the standards of Artarq, which meant it was sweltering. Though the distance was a blur when you looked from the towers, the palace gardens were cooler than most places. It was a place of flowing water and many strange and foreign plants. At the center of this place was a Gazebo, and Father waited for his visitor to arrive.

William focused on playing his harp. It was not as great as the one he had given up to the goddess Alchara some time ago, but it was still beautiful. Father had had it commissioned of him. Massacre the Chimera seemed to enjoy the music just as much. However, it did not have the same power.

Then their visitor arrived. He was a satyr, and a tall one at that. He wore a metal mask over his face and was shrouded all in white. He sat down across from Vanion. William played his harp to one side in a chair in the corner. He kept his head down and his hood up.

"Ah, Karasush," said Father, "I trust the roads were not too troublesome?"

"Not at all, Duke Vanion," said Karasush. "Though it has been a long time since I had to travel by normal means. Within Fortenex and Kreshlak, I can move freely, but in other worlds, I must walk like anyone else.

"In truth, I have become a bit out of shape."

"Would you care for some wine?" asked Father, motioning to several cups which had been laid out and a bottle. "It is a satyr variety, grown by your cousins in the vineyards of Seathorius."

"Yes, thank you," said Karasush.

Father motioned to Felix, who emerged from where no one had seen him holding a jug. A sword was at his side. How did he do that? The dark-skinned boy poured the wine.

Karasush took his. William half expected him to remove his mask. But instead, the mask itself opened near the mouth, revealing jagged teeth and tan skin. He sipped it as Vanion did the same. "Seathorius wine is considered a great delicacy amongst my people," mused Karasush. "How did you know of it?"

"I didn't. I am merely experimenting," admitted Father. "The recent peace between the Nakmar and their satyr neighbors is good. It has allowed trade to flourish in places where there was none before. The negotiations are ongoing, but I believe there may be a good market for this wine."

"We have never been able to produce it," admitted Karasush. "The cold weather of Khasmir means we have to rely on more cold weather vines. They are less sweet and more bitter."

"No doubt some will prefer them," mused Father, sipping his cup again. "Now, what exactly is it that you wished to speak to me about?"

"Yes, very recently, a powerful artifact of my god was recovered by your son," said Karasush. "I was hoping that it might be returned to us."

"Ah, yes, that," said Father. "I wish to, of course; I do not like denying any religion their sacred artifacts. But, unfortunately, the Axe of Fortenex has been infused with an enormous amount of life force. Thanks to the prodigious bloodshed that ensued around its recovery.

"If someone worthy of it were to wield it, there could be massive destruction. Moreover, with Melchious still out there, it is possible he could steal it. If that happened, he would enact his dark will using the weapon."