Part 54

The Combined Army (that was the name they settled on) marched into the city of Doranav through the open gates.  The remains of the Imperial army had tried to hide behind the city walls but the citizens threw the gates open.  Greza didn’t know if they did it in fear of reprisals or if they actually supported their cause.  This wasn’t even one of the cities Verin had sent agents to.  But still, they had to have heard that they were there to end the oppression by the nobles. 

If this wasn’t a righteous cause guided by the Divine Lights then nothing was.  The Divine Path was more necessary now than ever.

Verin was riding his black warhorse through the gates and looked every part the hero. 

Right then she knew that there was no greater man in the world.  She would do anything for him. 

She watched his entrance from inside the gate while she kept an eye on the crowd.  Onata was on the other side of the gate watching for trouble. 

She grabbed the pommel of her saddle with her broken hand and immediately regretted it.  The medic had bandaged it up and gave her some horrible drink that killed the pain, but it still throbbed.  The medic said it wasn’t bad, but it certainly felt bad.  Medics always seemed to have an underestimation of pain.

Just in case there was trouble she had a brace of pistols slung across her chest.  She wouldn’t be much use in a fist fight so she had to rely on more range. 

“How’s the hand?”  Tempest asked.

She hadn’t seen the giant minotaur approach and mentally scolded herself for being distracted.

“Hurts.”

“I’d imagine.  Heard what you did.  Impressive.”

“They tell me it was foolish.”

“It’s never foolish to fight to protect someone.”

She didn’t know if her hand would agree.

“How did our forces do?”  She asked.

“We did very well.  It was our first real test of our unit cohesion, but everyone did their part.”

“Casualties?”

“Low.”

“Lower than expected?”

“Slightly. You know, you really should be looking out at the crowd and not at Verin.”

“I…what? I’m not.”

She tore her eyes away from Verin and went back to scanning the crowd for weapons or sudden movements.

Tempest chuckled and she would have hit him but he was on the side of her broken hand. 

“He’s not a god you know,” he said.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

She looked over at him to see how serious he was.  Apparently ‘very.’  She turned back to the crowd. 

She wasn’t deifying him. She respected him a great deal and would die for him.  She wanted to be with him always.  That was all. 

“There she is,” Alethia’s voice came from behind her.  She turned to see the black robbed sorceress push her way through the crowd.  Her hood was down and her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders.  Her skin seemed even paler in the bright sun of early afternoon. 

“Let me see your hand,” Alethia said.

Greza held out her bandaged hand.  Alethia took it and turned it around, making Greza wince. 

“Seems bad,” Alethia said.

“Decaron says that’s what happens when you punch trolls,” Greza said.

“That’s what happens when you play the fool, but I’m glad you’re our fool.  You saved Verin’s life today.”

“I wouldn’t say that.  There were plenty of soldiers around.”

“But none that could have stopped a rampaging troll.  Maybe if we had some gunners there.  No, stop being modest.  Modesty angers me.  You saved his life,” Alethia said.

“And the sorcerer that sent the troll?”

“Fled,” Tempest said.

Alethia then took Greza’s hand in both of hers and she was about to pull it away from the sharp pain but suddenly there wasn’t any pain at all. 

Greza wiggled her fingers and everything felt perfectly normal.

“Alethia, you shouldn’t have!  I’m not worth it.  Save them for something important.”

“You are important.  More so than you realize,” Alethia said as she walked off. 

She was just a bodyguard. She wasn’t worth Alethia’s memories for a simple broken bone.  It would have healed. 

Alethia shouldn’t be so wasteful about her memories.

Greza followed Verin’s procession to the castle in the middle of the city.  With a determined force this battle could have lasted weeks, maybe months.  As they passed from the city and into the castle’s courtyard she was glad it didn’t come to that.  The walls looked very high. 

The mayor of the city and all his nobles were out in the courtyard to greet their conqueror.  They were dressed in their finest. 

She walked just behind Verin and to the side so she’d have a view of any danger.  She tried not to be distracted by the enormous honor it was to be standing with him at this moment of triumph.

She couldn’t stand looking at them.  They came to grovel and beg for mercy.  They assumed Verin was as cruel and petty as they were. 

Verin and the other mercenary generals dismounted and approached the group of city leaders.  The one in front, with the fanciest robes was a Sayter with gold rings decorating his horns and a silver bell hanging from his pointed beard. 

The sayter made a deep bow. 

“We welcome you, Lord Verin to Doranav City.”

Verin didn’t return the bow. 

“You’re the mayor?”  Verin asked.

“Um…no, I’m his third advisor.  My name is Daralan Serotatian Beranii.  The mayor and many of his staff left an hour ago. I am the highest ranking official left.”

The mayor had fled.  Typical.  These nobles seldom had the courage to stand up against an actual threat.  They were cowards.   

“Well, Beranii, Doranav is now under Combined Army occupation and there will be a few new rules.  As of this instant, all slaves are set free with no compensation to their former masters.”

“I assumed as much,” Beranii said. 

Beranii looked as if he had more formalities he wanted to go through but Verin hated such pomp and ceremony.  He had too much to do to worry about niceties.  He led the group inside and Greza followed.

The Grand Hall of the governmental palace was dark and quiet as the doors shut behind them.  The crowds were shut away from the discussion which meant they were free to say what they meant. 

Verin had his bodyguards and officers with him and outnumbered the remaining city officials three to one. At least they had the sense to look nervous. 

“You are to surrender half your property to the people you’ve enslaved your entire lives,” Verin said.

“Half!” Beranni said.

“Yes, half.  You took everything away from them so its more than fair you give them something back.”

“That’s too much.  You’ll ruin us,” a fat human official said.

“I’m not done,” Verin said.

He turned to them and looked them each in the eye.

“Your oldest son or daughter will join our army or pay a fine of five thousand Soldati.”

The officials burst into protests but Verin ignored them as he walked down the Hall toward the throne at the end. 

It was a harsh judgment, especially for officials that were willing to work with them.   Aside from the counter-productive fear it’ll put into nobles heads, it felt less like justice and more like revenge. 

She watched Verin and didn’t see any concern in his eyes.