The Bond - 5. Chapter 5

Marion Monciet was pleased when the two guards arrived, to relieve her ordinary followers from their shift. The Nabians that were constantly keeping an eye on her were also surprised that they had been reassigned to something other than following Mrs. Monciet around, which they had done day and night almost since the conquest of the Monciet region. Alexandre Di Coteau had put these men on the duty when he was still there, and the commanding officer that took his place didn’t see a reason to remove them from this task. The Nabian guards were even more surprised when their replacements shoved dirks into the thin spots of their armor, just under the chin. The bodies were promptly stripped, hidden, and forgotten.

Marion had decided some time ago that even though the Monciets were almost completely gone, a Monciet should still rule this region. During one particular night after a ceremonial dinner, Marion had found a locket given to her by her mother. Remembering the sisterhood that she had once belonged to, she recognized the symbols etched into the gold of the piece. Knowing full well what they indicated, she donned the necklace while she changed, still being watched. It was late, and the ceremony had left her husband roaring drunk. She knew that she would be subject either to another unwanted sex act or a beating before she was allowed to sleep in bed with him, and decided that this was her chance. By dumb luck, she was armed, her husband was intoxicated, and she was about to enter a room where her guards could not go. There was only one time when her guards did not follow her, and that was in the bedroom.

Marion had stripped bare, save the locket. Feeling her guards piggish eyes scour her up and down while she changed was normal by now, so she figured she might as well dress to impress on what she hoped would be a night of her victory. She donned a silk and lace bodice that was see-through in various parts, only opaque where necessary. She wore nothing between her legs save a stringy undergarment, and piled jewels on to her neck, ears, wrists, and fingers. Walking from her closet room to she and her husband’s bedchambers, she stopped outside the door.

“Have the kitchen send up a brew of the special blend of tea I’ve kept in the top cupboard. If you ask the cook about it, she’ll know which one it is.” One of her guards left to do her bidding, and Marion smiled.

Once in the bedroom, things were fairly easy. Marion saw her husband blind drunk, and rape in his eyes when he noticed how provocatively his wife was dressed. She advanced seductively, spread a powdery cream from inside the locket on her lips, and kissed her husband deeply. She let the horrors of one last rape ensue, and received her tea at the door. She had the antidote, and her husband did not.

The next morning, Marion put on a show of hysteria, with impressive acting. Her husband was in a near-paralyzed state, unable to talk, barely able to move, and drooling constantly. His eyes shot hate at Marion, who he knew had incapacitated him, and Marion leaned closely to him with her ear to his mouth. From that point on, she gave orders in her husband’s stead, and was the only one allowed to go so near him in his fragile state. The doctor, a long time family friend, had ensured that “no one but his tender, caring wife should approach him so closely, and that orders were best left to translation and interpretation by Marion.”

After all, I know him so well. The doctor was also how she got a message to the Hallowed Order, who had sent the replacement guards. And so, her Nabian followers were relieved of their duties and replaced with undercover guards. Marion was granted her freedom and privacy once more, and was liberated to start enacting all that she had planned. This emancipation was a glorious moment

“It is a relief to see you gentlemen,” said Marion. The two guards who had swapped out their fake Nabian armor for the real deal of Marion’s former protectors nodded, and said something to the effect of being happy to serve her. Marion looked them up and down, and decided that these two warrior men would certainly pass as Nabian guards.

“I’ll be ready to leave in just a moment. There’s something I need to do first.” Marion left her guards outside of her bedroom, entering to find only her husband in his rolling chair, who had soiled himself. Only the light of the moon illuminated the room. Marion didn’t need a fire seeing as she wouldn’t be there this night, so why should the room have one? She certainly wasn’t going to make one for her husband’s comfort. His eyes still moved at a normal pace, and his gaze gave her a following glare every time she was near.

“Oh stop that John. You really can’t be surprised that someone would take revenge against you, cruel as you are and so prone to throwing yourself into fits of drunken stupor.” She crossed the room to her wardrobe, brushing up against the shell of the man that had been her husband.

“You know, I’ve washed my body a thousand times since I put you in your place.” She rubbed a hand down the length of her bare forearm. “Your stink is impossible to get out. All those times that you grabbed me, squeezed me, touched me. I will never forget them, and I promise that the pain you have done to me will be repaid a thousand fold.” Her husband tried to move, to lurch forward, but only succeeded in wetting himself a little. Marion bent over, putting her eyes level with his and her face so close that their two noses almost touched. “Go ahead John, try and fight back.” She smiled slightly, still centimeters from his face. “This condition is permanent. You might as well get used to it. Even if I wanted to bring you back, I couldn’t.” She saw a flicker of hesitation, of trepidation in his eyes, and smiled wider. “Yes,” she said, “despair.” Marion walked over to her dresser, picking up a sharp pair of scissors, normally used for sewing. She turned her back to her husband, only looking at him behind her through the mirror.

“You see John, the difference between you and I is conviction. You do what you’re told, and for the glory of your country. You’re pleased with the simple things, like sex, booze, and hitting women around.” Marion twirled a lock of her hair in her hand. “I aim bigger. I do what I want, but what I want is what’s best for the people. My desire to help others, my willingness to work within the confines of defeat…” She slinked a shoulder and looked back at him seductively. “My womanhood. These aren’t weaknesses, John. They’re my strengths. Because I can use them to take away what my enemies want.” She turned back towards the mirror, and made eye contact with her fuming husband once more. “You like keeping everyone in this castle in line? They resent you for it, and help me instead. You like drinking yourself silly? It opens you up and I took this castle because of it. You like –“ paused, spun around, and gave him a look up and down. “Well,” she said with a chuckle, “You used to like throwing me around by my hair.” She set to work, snipping, chopping, and styling. Chestnut locks fell to the floor, falling in graceful curves and scattering among the stone tiles in lumps of varying sizes. When she was done, Marion admired her handiwork and ran her hand over her head. Loose short hairs filled the air like dust, and she moved back towards her husband’s wheeled chair once more.

“Whatever it is you liked,” she said with a dangerous voice, almost in a whisper. “I will take it from you.” She threw the scissors onto her husband’s lap forcefully, and walked out the door, two new guards in tow.

***

Sir Jared entered the meeting with just two others at his sides, both members of the Hallowed Order. The three walked directly into the Ironian woods, at which point they scaled down a precarious set of steps on the face of a cliff. The path there was invisible to the untrained eye, but Jared and his companions found the entrance quite easily. One other lantern could be seen approaching from the woods from the opposite direction, and it was decidedly another member coming to enter the meeting.

After a short climb down, it took just a few minutes to find a carving in the stone with the correct emblem. From there, faint outlines of what looked like a door in the stone could be made out, and Jared pushed the entrance open. The door was heavy, and guards immediately were alert on the inside of the tunnel when Jared stepped through. They relaxed when they saw recognized faces, and nodded respectfully to the famed knight of the Coyne region. Passwords were exchanged, and Jared and his companions walked on. After taking the right turns in the stone and avoiding trap decoy tunnels, Jared entered the grand meeting room, which looked nothing like the inside of a giant cave save the ceiling, where stone still spiraled down in points. These were so high up though, one had to tilt their neck almost entirely back just to see them.

The inside of the meeting room was stone brick walls, covered in sconces that made it lighter than day. Fine furniture, a library, ornate mosaic tiles in the floor, and lavish embellishment made the room feel more like a Nabian manse or Tomacian palace than a giant cave under a forest of Ironia. There was harp music playing, food and drinks out, and socializing amongst finely dressed nobles and poorly clothed commoners alike. Tomacians, Ironians, one Illjardi, and even a few Nabians were there talking in small circles that shifted and rotated members in and out. It was before the meeting was about to start, and Jared surveyed the room. In one circle, his eyes stopped, fixated, and widened. That can’t be.

Jared recognized three top Nabian officials, and came to the brief conclusion that he had no idea just how far the Hallowed Order penetrated the continent.

Giovanni Nandra, Nabian General of the Thirteen was there, clad in full black and red armor that glinted with ruby and silver adornment. He was hulking over most of the people in the crowd, and looked generally terrifying. If the armor and stature didn’t give him away, the giant war hammer that must have weighed as much as the average Ironian on the ground before him certainly told the world who he was. Jared was even more surprised to see that only a couple of other younger members of the order seemed impressed that he was there, or were staring openly. Most of the older Tomacians and Ironians seemed to not even notice he was there. Amongst General Nandra’s companions, Jared recognized one and had a good guess at who the other was. Almanita Nandra he knew, for she was a prodigiously famous traveler, and offered classes to the men and women of the continent regardless of their loyalties. She was dressed in wildly printed silks that draped around her body in fashionable ways, and the ornate jewelry that hung lengthily below her ears shone brightly in the bright light of the room. He had seen Almanita before she was wed to General Laura Nandra, and was surprised to see her still attending these meetings. Granted, it had been a while since he had been to one, but the impending meeting was apparently urgent. He supposed that in a way it made sense that her brother-in-law Giovanni would join similar circles, but a Nabian general at the Hallowed Order was still a sight.

That made the next guest he recognized all the more shocking. Red, bouncy curls hung from her head, and only when he saw her face did Jared recognize who this woman might be. Elsa Torne was young, and would have been the youngest general in Nabius had Alexandre not taken his father’s place. Jared guessed it was her by her company, but also for the exceptional beauty that she exuded. Elsa was famed for her looks, and it was said that they helped her to claw her way to the top of her station. She was an expert at interrogation, secrecy, and stealth.

She’d have to be – her region has Nabius’s Capitol. Jared had never been to the Capitol before, but knew that it was full of the most conniving, deceitful, manipulative, and ingenious people that Nabius had to offer. If she climbed to be the best of them, she must be a formidable woman. Still, when he thought she made brief eye contact across the room, Jared couldn’t help feeling disarmed by this lovely, delicate lady. Her lips were painted bright red, and her powdered face and rather simple – though still expensive, and high quality – armor made her seem like a porcelain figurine that might break if she was handled too roughly. He shivered at the thought, and glanced the opposite directions. It was weird enough to Jared that there were such high-ranking Nabians there, and Jared felt it best not to stare.

I wonder what the meeting is about. There hasn’t been this high level of an alert in months. He contemplated this for a little while longer, before he was met with a running hug from behind.

“Jared!” the voice exclaimed, and he smiled, knowing it was his cousin Marion.

“Marion,” he said, the smile still on his face as he turned around to face his kin. He was glad to see her, and immensely surprised. “How did you get here? And your hair! It’s all gone!” He was tempted to touch it, but didn’t know the story behind it. She opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by the meeting secretary announcing that the meeting was about to start. The crowd hushed, and generally moved towards the front of the hall where a few designated members were lined up to speak, on an elevated platform of marble. Silence was almost complete as a man began to talk, but Marion spoke in whispers.

“The Order sent me replacement guards to use as fakes. They got me to this meeting tonight.” Jared knew, given that it was his idea to send them in the first place.

“I know. How’d you get away from your husband’s bedchambers though?” Jared whispered back.

“He’s been taken care of.” Jared raised an eyebrow and turned to look at his cousin, who seemed guilty. “Not dead. Just taken care of. A trick from Almanita Nandra.” She nodded in the woman’s direction, who seemed to be standing in a role of importance in tonight’s meeting. Jared tried to listen in for a moment, taking in the current speakers words.

“Reports have come back all throughout the southern provinces and in the very heart of Nabius. The monks of Solstice Peak confirm, and implore that we take immediate and decisive action against – “ Jared quit listening for a time, rolling his eyes at the warnings of the monks of Solstice Peak. He had been to the temple on the mountain before, and wrote the reclusive folk who lived there off as a group of fanatics with too much time on their hands.

They’ve spent a little too much time in high altitudes I think.

“Anyway, what happened with your hair?” Jared whispered.

“Nothing gets in my way now,” said his cousin with a determination that he had not heard in her before. It reminded him of her father, his uncle. Jared nodded, understanding the difficulties of what she was going through. To his knowledge, it was just dumb luck in geographical positioning that had been keeping Nabius at bay regarding the Coyne region anyway. Much of his homeland was bordered by sea, and their corner position and hilly terrain was easily defendable. Added to the fact that the Nabians were terrible at sea warfare and that the Illjard – which had the only sizeable navy around – was sworn to peace with all three nations, his stronghold was one of a kind. Nabius had conquered huge swaths of territory in Ironia, dominating the small kingdoms that freckled Ironia. Only the Monciet and Coyne families had resisted all throughout the war, until Alexandre Di Coteau made history and took down the Monciets. Now, it was only the Coynes left to fend off this foreign invasion. Though Jared didn’t see any conflict with Nabius coming his way in the near future given the state of things with Tomacia, he desperately didn’t want to lose all of his friends and family in the way that Marion did.

I guess I wouldn’t, though. I’d just be executed. He shrugged that thought off.

“… and she has been rampaging through her own cities, killing at alarming rates. Indeed, a crazed Nabian was found just last week having eaten the faces off of his own family, a clear indicator of our old foes. Reports like this go on and on, each more horrible than the last. The Clarion family is in some way responsible, and this is a problem that should be addressed.” Almanita Nandra walked over to the current speaker, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“This is all true, informed by my girls in the relevant areas,” she said with her exotic accent. She tossed a long piece of black and gray hair over her shoulder before she talked again. “This enemy is the most deadly known in our history, though almost none have seen or dealt with it before. But I have. And I tell you, that if we do not stop it quickly, it will rampage through our – “

“Jared,” whispered Marion, interrupting his concentration.

“Yes?”

“I came for more than just one reason than to hear about this mumbo jumbo.” Jared suppressed a laugh, and used body language to urge her to continue. “Alexandre Di Coteau. He has to go down.” She said it plainly and assertively.

“Well I agree, obviously,” Jared replied in hushed tones.

“I mean soon. Now. He’s walking destruction wherever he goes, and is by far the most dangerous enemy we’ve ever seen.” Jared wasn’t sure about that, but he let her continue. “I saw him on the battlefield Jared. And I saw him climb right up our walls and kill everyone that we knew and loved in my home. He executed people left and right like it was nothing. I mean I’ve seen skilled fighters, but I just can’t even describe to you how – “

“Okay, Marion. I get it. He’s not a god. In the right army, the right situation, he’ll bleed just like every one else will. Why now?” Marion narrowed her eyes at him, as if she was accusing him of treachery for his questioning her timing.

“I’m tired of living like this. Of pretending like all the people – his people – that live in my home are welcomed guests to be treated to tea parties and lunch. We need to reclaim the Monciet stronghold if we’re to do anything about saving Ironia!” She said the last part a little loudly, and a few nearby members of the Order cast annoyed looks. Jared frowned, and tried not to be insensitive.

“We don’t have the man power for that right now. And besides, his region is taking care of the people in your lands better than they were before. I know you all tried, but they are pouring a lot of money into keeping you all healthy,” Jared debated. Marion looked cross, but had to agree.

“Well I don’t think that’s Alexandre anyway. I’ve heard rumors that he’s disappeared, and someone new has been managing the Di Coteau manse as of late.” Jared had heard them too, and nodded.

“In any case, we should let the money flow from Nabius for now, until we’re more prepared.” Marion’s pouting face made Jared feel bad about the statement, so he added more to soften the blow. “I know that we will take him down eventually. I know it, Marion. I’ll do it myself if I have to. ” He tried his best to look reassuring, but felt he wasn’t doing an adequate job.

“I know,” she said. “I’m asking you to do it.” Jared looked at her once more, and saw the pleading in her eyes. “As a knight. As a countryman. As my family,” she said. Jared shook his head, and eventually gave into her plea.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it, but in my own way and at the right time.”

***

The wedding was the most beautiful occasion Talia had ever been to. Ever one for adornment and lavishness, the queen had spared no expense in her son’s union, much to Alexandre’s surprise, but not to Talia’s. Talia could tell that the queen had an idea of who she was after getting to know her, and knew that the most shocking news was that there was going to be a wedding between Tomacia and Nabius. Though Nabius might never accept this, the Tomacians adored their monarchs and would follow whatever lead they were given. Talia initially thought that the might need to employ some brutal convincing techniques against the king, but he eventually came around. Talia saw that the queen clearly was the strategist between the two, and her input informed every decision that he made.

Finally, one drunken night by the fireside with Alex, the king had agreed to wed Alexandre and Carl.

At the actual ceremony, only about 100 or so people attended as guests. Carl’s extended family and friends were there, in addition to some of the most gossipy men and women in the entire kingdom of Tomacia. The queen had hand-selected these people, knowing that they would spread the word faster than she ever could. The wedding was kept small for security reasons of course, which gladdened Talia. She had immediately accepted the position of head of security for the event, and was doing a fine job.

Talia was glancing to and fro amongst the crowd, perched at a vantage point that gave her a full view of the wedding but made her almost invisible. She was pleased that she had a great view of her brother’s ceremony, but also knew that there would more than likely be at least one assassin in the crowds.

These decorations really are beautiful. And quite a thoughtful arrangement to promote harmony among our nations. She saw tables piled high with gourmet foods of both nations, though she doubted that most Tomacians knew what some of the dishes were. Simple enough I guess. We mostly just eat slabs of meat.

She looked at the arrangement of the seating, and tried to picture where a killer might come from. Currently, the head priest of Tomacia was holding Alexandre and Carl’s hands together, going on a lengthy speech that had spanned almost an hour already. The queen had insisted that every custom must be observed, every holy word known in the history of marriage be said. She wanted absolutely no doubts of its validity, and had placed talkative witnesses in two rectangles on either side of an isle that the men had walked down together.

The bloodlilys were really a nice touch, she thought. Nabius’s signature flower was displayed in bouquets and arrangements around the room, and decorated the sculpture of a golden-eyed swan that was present. Aptly named, the huge birds that were Nabius’s patron animal were present at any Tomacian wedding, Talia had found out. She felt bad when she saw that a few swans set to roam the grounds of the wedding area had bloodlilys attached to blue, gold, black, and red bows around their necks because she knew that the flowers would probably kill the birds. Evidently some designer was unaware, but she felt she’d best not mention it. I certainly hope that’s not foreshadowing.

Talia scanned the crowd once more, seeing pompous old ladies in ridiculous hats gossiping ferociously as the priest droned on. She looked at Alex and Carl, and felt a genuine surge of happiness for them. Alexandre was dressed in all of his finest Nabian gear, black and red and covered in enameled, patterned pieces of armor that weighed much more than could be practical for battle. The pelt of a black wolf was wrapped around his shoulders on top of a length, splendid cape covered with Nabian symbols and bloodlilys. His normally sheathed hook swords were given a mounting display on his back, which showed the ornate weapon’s gleam, design, and curves in the most ostentatious way. Carl was similarly dressed, in armor that looked even heavier than his partners. Panels of gold and blue gleamed on his body, and his own massive broadsword was displayed nakedly on his back as well. It was Talia’s first time seeing his weapon, and she admired the intricate details and remarkable craftsmanship. The sword gleamed with excitement in the sunlight, and was also reflective. It wasn’t in the reflection that she saw the man, but his hiding place. Carl’s sword reflected a small nook in between tables that would have been the perfect location for a long-ranged assassination. She dismounted from her position, and crept around the crowd without making any disturbance whatsoever. Now behind the heads of every last person in the wedding save the priest, Talia walked gently over to the tables in question, sensing the living breath of someone beneath a tablecloth, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Knew it. Talia had no weapons, as the only weapons allowed into the ceremony were those ceremonial ones that the grooms wore. Talia was trusted with them in this setting of course, but any nervous guest that saw her walking around armed could cause a panic, which was exactly what they were trying to avoid. So, she decided that she would have to take care of her issue another way.

Not wanting to make any disturbance, Talia took a champagne glass, poured the sparkling liquid out onto the grass right in front of the table in question, and heard the stilling breath of the hidden killer underneath it. She crunched the glass by hand into her dress, pleased that a few sharp points had been created by its fracturing. She walked as close to the tablecloth as she dared, and took a deep breath.

She listened, and waited. A sniffle gave her the position of her assailant’s head, and she moved in one swift motion, time almost seeming to pass more slowly while she worked. Talia lifted the tablecloth, crouched, and shoved the broken glass directly into the eye socket of the man laying in wait, who was indeed armed with a crossbow. Stifling his dying noises with her hand on his mouth, she let the man pass before she had even gotten to take a good look at his face. She knocked the tablecloth back downwards, covering all evidence of what she had prevented. She stood up, smoothing her ivory and cream lace dress, and checking to make sure that no bloodstains had trespassed on her ensemble.

Excellent, she thought, and beckoned for a chef to enter the main area of the wedding, which was separated out from the various tents and activities for guests by rows of white columns with transparent drapery between them. He entered, and she whispered to have this table wheeled away. The man nodded reverently, and rolled the table across the grass out of the ceremonial area, body and all. She thought that that might make a fine surprise back in the kitchens. Returning to her duties, Talia walked slowly back to her designated spot, where she began scanning once more. Alexandre and Carl were pinning each other’s capes with brooches of the other’s country, making each man’s outfit have a small point of colors unpatriotic to their origins.

Talia sighed, looking at the smile on her brother’s face, who barely even seemed to notice how long this ceremony was going on. Carlisle Cathcart was looking down at him beaming equally as hard, and making the most adoring eyes that Talia had ever seen a man give.

She looked to the spot where she had just murdered a man minutes ago, and back to the happy couple. I know which place I belong, she thought, knowing that no one could ever supply her with the happiness and light that her brother now basked in.