The Blue Moon - 2. Chapter 2

Isendar
Dimalos, Andiol Empire

"Vargan," a dull voice grumbled from the middle of the room.

"Your Grace, Grand Duke," Isendar Vargan said, more respectfully than he wanted to, to the man sitting in the large armchair. He had to be careful and control his feelings, for Morth Lefretz was said to be able to read people's thoughts from their expressions.

"You've come a long way to see me, was the weather favourable for flying?"

"It really was, Your Grace. The airship soared gently through the sky," Isendar replied, hoping he had not made a mistake in dropping 'Grand Duke' from his address. Lefretz was rumored to have killed a man because of his disrespectful remarks.

"Glad to hear it," Morth Lefretz said, although they both knew that compliments meant nothing to either of them.

Isendar Vargan did not smile ingratiatingly at the grand duke, knowing full well that the supreme leader of the Shadow Cross did not appreciate flattery. Weighing the options, Isendar had dismissed the idea of playing the role of a slippery yes-man. The grand duke needed capable men and would not give any value to bootlickers.

Although Isendar had lived far away in Paidos for many years, this was not the first time that he had been to the imperial capital. In fact, he had spent his youth in Dimalos, which made the situation much easier to grasp. Isendar had not forgotten his old contacts after his appointment as regional director of the Shadow Cross in Paidos. Now this carefully nurtured network was proving invaluable.

Without prior intelligence, meeting Morth Lefretz, for example, would have been much more dangerous. Admittedly, the meeting would have been very difficult, despite the information Isendar had obtained. Mainly because he deliberately intended to make it difficult. He was going to test his mettle against the formidable leader of the Shadow Cross.

But it was not about luck. Every move on the board had to be carefully considered, for Grand Duke Lefretz was as cunning as Isendar Vargan. But the leader of the Shadow Cross did not know what his guest knew. And that could change the balance of power, or so Isendar hoped.

Isendar looked at the face of his superior. Grand Duke Lefretz was an ugly man, though in his youth he was said to have been handsome and popular with the ladies. However, years had disfigured the man's features into an abomination to behold. His head resembled the shape of a ripe pear - for some reason the fat had accumulated mainly on the lower face, around sagging cheek pouches and a mighty double chin. The grand duke's lower lip was drooping and his wide nostrils flared with every breath. His white hair was combed from side to top - an unsuccessful attempt to hide his growing baldness, Isendar thought scornfully. Immediately afterwards, he bit his lip - Lefretz must not be allowed to interpret his feelings.

The Shadow Cross leader's pale grey eyes flashed warningly, as if to say that the old man had sensed that his visitor disliked him. Isendar decided to begin what he had come to see Lefretz about.

"Your Grace will have noted the success we have achieved in the South. It is true that Paidos, Ipalos and soon a few other towns will be under our rule, but I have not come to waste Your Grace's precious time with details that are already known."

"Then why did you come, Vargan?" Morth Lefretz asked in a deep, intense voice. His gaze was fixed on his guest.

Isendar Vargan bore the stare well, not avoiding the grand duke's all-seeing eyes. "I have come to ask for a favour, Your Grace, Grand Duke."

"A favour? Speak up, Vargan," Lefretz said after a brief silence, apparently trying to decide whether his guest was more greedy than foolhardy. It was dangerous to ask Morth Lefretz for anything; the leader of the Shadow Cross never gave anything away for free. Many who had asked for favours had later found the price too high to pay.

But Isendar Vargan did not hesitate to speak, even though he knew he was nailing the lid of his own coffin. The opportunity was too tempting to waste, and he had been thinking of this scheme for weeks. "Your Grace, I claim supreme authority over the entire Empire. I intend to conquer Andiol for the Shadow Cross and put an end to the Blue Moon once and for all. I have a precise plan, which I will gladly share with Your Grace."

Morth Lefretz curled his lips in a morose manner, then he scowled. "Vargan, have you gone mad? Why should I give you an inch of my authority? You are a worthless gnat, useful only in the most mundane of ways. I could smash you against the wall for your insolence. Give me one reason why I should not?"

"Your Grace, I have done my research. We now have an opportunity to defeat our enemies, to take the whole of Andiol. Our organization could be much more efficient than it is now. For example, by deploying and arming the shadow sentries..."

"Vargan, I don't need an advisor. If I did, you wouldn't be the one. I order you to abort your mission and return to Paidos," Lefretz said, waving his thick fingers in a dismissive gesture.

Isendar Vargan blew air between his teeth. "Your Grace, you can't..." he tried once more.

"Get out!" The leader of the Shadow Cross commanded.

Lefretz had refused to listen to reason. This path was now blocked. Against his unshakable principles, Isendar decided to play his last card. If a man wanted a lot, sometimes he had to risk a lot. Even life itself.

Tension tingled through his body as he met Lefretz's gaze again and said as clearly as he could: "You're an old fatty who can't even use the potty without help."

Morth Lefretz's eyes bulged in their sockets and his swollen face flushed radish-blue. A hiss was the only sound that escaped his lips. Then Lefretz quickly reached out his thick wrist and sliced the air in front of him with his hand. Visually, nothing unusual had happened in the room, but Isendar could feel the amulet around his neck alternately heating and cooling between the layers of clothing. The amulet absorbed the Might and rejected it.

"What devilish plots..." the grand duke growled, looking not only furious but also worried.

That was a good sign, Isendar concluded. He was safe, at least for the moment. It was time to take the offensive. "Oh, 'devilish'? I think you know enough about plotting with devils. Or what do the names Kirubzahh and R'vhepka mean to you?"

Grand Duke Lefretz shuddered, his face changing colour from bright red to white with unimaginable speed. When he spoke again, his voice was not one of anger, but of sheer fear. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Isendar hummed with satisfaction. The first goal had been achieved, the Shadow Cross leader was losing control of the situation. Now all that remained was to finish humiliating Morth Lefretz before he could gather himself.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Isendar said. "After all, you are a sixth level duranej. Your own uncle initiated you into the doctrines of the Darkness when you were still a beardless youth. I am told that you performed a rather perverse rite in honour of Blahaazsa. I won't go into details, but I believe your debauchery satisfied Lord of Lust... no, don't try to call the guards, just finish listening."

In fact, this was the most dangerous moment of the meeting. If Lefretz were to roar a group of shadow sentries into the room, not even an amulet could save Isendar Vargan. Sure, Isendar had bribed the guards, but there was no telling which side they would take in a real situation.

Fortunately, the grand duke collapsed in his chair, seemingly abandoning the idea of calling for help. Isendar decided to continue speaking before Lefretz reconsidered.

"Your nobility helped you to advance in life, and you quickly rose to leading positions in the Shadow Cross," Isendar said. "It has been suggested that your background as a duranej also played a part in your rapid career development. At least some of your rivals died in strange circumstances while you were fighting for the leadership of the Shadow Cross in 1568. Or perhaps no black forces were behind their deaths. You probably used the usual assassins. After all, you are not a particularly high level duranej. Despite your position, you have only climbed to level six. Even though you possess the Might - rather mediocre, but still. Perhaps the superiors of the Black Flame didn't think you were capable enough - or worse, perhaps they thought you were untrustworthy, or that your dedication to serving the Darkness was uninspiring. Did you not remember to hurt enough children in honour of Blahaazsa? Or did you enjoy the rites too much and forget that their purpose is to satisfy Lord of Lust, not yourself?"

Isendar Vargan raised his hand. "No, don't interrupt me yet… Conscientiously performing rites and sucking up to the superiors did not get you anywhere. Over the years, you grew tired of waiting to be promoted to the next level. You decided to change direction. You came up with the Bewitched Land and the vra-dagraajis, known in folklore as the dreaders. It was an undeniably brilliant move, you were on the move much earlier than your competitors. The reports of the growing strength of the dreaders were only rumours at this point. You made contact with two high priests of Cmorh-Biyr, Kirubzahh and R'vhepka... Hah, sorry if I mispronounced the names of your monstrous masters. That harsh language doesn't quite work in my mouth… Anyway, back to business. You began to conspire against your own, selling classified information to the vra-dagraajs. In your quest for power you betrayed the superiors of the Black Flame. You betrayed us."

The last words, spoken in a whisper, rippled through the room. Morth Lefretz muttered hastily: "What do you want? Gold? I've got it. Tell me your price."

Isendar wanted to laugh. Lefretz was more slow-witted than he had imagined. The grand duke could still have called the guards into the room. After that, no one would have threatened the leader of the Shadow Cross like Isendar Vargan. There was no one - except perhaps the superiors of the Black Flame - who would have known as much about Lefretz's activities. Isendar had been careful to gather the crumbs of information he needed. He had also trained to portray himself as a fallen, convinced servant of the Darkness. So he could blackmail Lefretz to obey him. Since then, everything had been incredibly simple. Morth Lefretz had grown old and his all-seeing eyes had gone blind. Why on earth was the leader of the Shadow Cross talking about gold? Riches did not interest Isendar in the least.

Lefretz had come to believe that his guest was not only a fallen, but much higher one than himself. The success of this scam amused Isendar greatly. If the leader of the Shadow Cross was so stupid and gullible, it was about time someone wiser took charge.

"You're trying to bribe me with gold. What do you think, Lefretz? Are people who tell you things like this usually interested in some wretched coins?"

"No," the puffy-faced man said miserably, looking sickly.

"No, they are not. I'm disappointed in you, follower Lefretz. Very disappointed."

"Don't..." Grand Duke Lefretz groaned and slumped in his chair.

"You know the penalty for disappointment," Isendar said calmly.

Lefretz let out an indistinct moan. He sank clumsily from his chair to his knees in front of his guest. "Oh, High Duranej. Have mercy, please. Take whatever you like..."

Watching the whining man disgusted Isendar. Tears streamed down his sagging cheek pouches, leaving behind dirty trails that revealed the grand duke's attempt to cover the many flaws in his face with make-up.

Isendar was only a regional director in the Shadow Cross, but now he felt like an emperor. He wanted to kick the man in front of him, but he controlled himself and spoke again. "Okay. You might be useful to me…"

"Yes, yes… I would!" Morth Lefretz spluttered.

"Quiet!" Isendar Vargan ordered, and Lefretz's babbling was silenced in an instant. What power he had over his higher-up! How wonderful it is to rule another by sheer fear, Isendar thought, and then continued: "Can you be trusted?"

"Sir! I am faithful."

"Then listen carefully, fattie," Isendar began. "The first rule is: Do not talk about my visit - not even to the superiors. You are no longer worthy enough to contact them. In the eyes of others, I am still your subordinate. If you don't understand this, I will rip your tongue out. Secondly, don't try to pry into what I'm doing. If I'm being followed, the first person I'll suspect is you. Then I'll break your legs in addition to your tongue. There we would have the leader of the Shadow Cross, the mute cripple, hah."

Isendar Vargan smiled wickedly as he looked contemptuously at the pathetic creature crouching before him. Where had the mighty and fearsome grand duke gone? The power of the Darkness was truly incredible, when the mere threat of the Black Flame's superiors and the devils of the Bewitched Land had nearly made the leader of the Shadow Cross piss his pants.

No, Lefretz has wet himself, Isendar realised as he saw the large stain on the chair where the fat man had just sat. A shudder of disgust ran through Isendar, before he turned his gaze from the chair to the grand duke crawling on the floor.

"I serve faithfully, My Lord," Lefretz assured him, his thick fingers reaching for the tip of Isendar's boot. He shouldn't have done that, Isendar thought, and stamped the hand on the floor with the heel of his boot. Lefretz's fingers crunched and he let out a loud cry.

"Quiet pig!" Isendar Vargan snapped. He was more angry with himself. The kick had been a mistake, the guards' attention should not be attracted. Why had he lost his famous self-control? Victory was too sweet to be lost now.

But the guards did not storm the room. Grand Duke Lefretz sobbed on the floor and cradled his bruised hand in his lap.

"It was a warning. Don't ever try to touch me again," Isendar hissed and returned to the matter at hand. "Sit still and listen... First of all, we'll make some arrangements right away. I want the necessary number of troops at my disposal. Get some mercenaries if you can't find them elsewhere. We'll put on a little show for the emperor. I'll send you details of the funds I need later with the courier. Is that understood?"

Lefretz nodded, looking obedient, so Isendar decided it was best to continue his command by pushing the grand duke further. "You betrayed your superiors, you betrayed what you were trained to do. You thought you could conspire with the dreaders without our knowledge. It was quite an aberration, follower Lefretz. Not everything can be forgiven. The superiors were preparing to take you up to the seventh level. Of course, that won't happen anymore."

After letting his lies sink in for a moment, Isendar continued: "Your treachery is still of some use to us. You have a connection to Cmorh-Biyr. We will use it in the future to further the common goals of the Black Flame. Perhaps when you die, you will be thanked for your service to the Darkness. Perhaps Blahaazsa himself will lead you to his Garden of Lust. But only if you sincerely help us. Do you want to restore your glory in the face of the great Darkness? Will you be a proud and honoured duranej again, Morth Lefretz?" Isendar Vargan's voice rose like a fanfare as he pointed his finger at the grand duke.

Morth Lefretz was shaking on his knees on the floor, repeating in a trembling voice: "I will, I will, I will."

"Good. Prove yourself worthy of my trust and listen," Isendar said, and began to explain his plan to the man whose life was bound to the will of his subordinate.

* * *

When Isendar Vargan finally stepped out of the Shadow Cross headquarters onto the dim streets of Dimalos, he chuckled. The calcified fool had been given the lesson he deserved. Under Lefretz, the Shadow Cross had been in a state of stagnation, losing its grip on power. It was a far cry from the days when the emperor had not dared to sneeze without the permission of the Shadow Cross.

Isendar would end the degradation of his organization and restore the Shadow Cross as the supreme ruler of Andiol. The campaign launched in Paidos was a good start, but Isendar still had much to do before the movement of the shadow walkers would regain its former power. And if all went according to plan, other things would happen - big things.

Turning at a street corner, Isendar glanced covertly behind him, but saw nothing suspicious. Nevertheless, he performed a few tricks commonly used by shade commandos to throw off any potential stalkers.

Isendar was once not only one of the best shadow commandos in the alleys of Dimalos, but also the leader of a bandit gang. He was then known by the codename 'Rat'.
Sometimes Isendar longed for those perilous years. It had been much easier for him to succeed as a shade commando and villain of the Alleys than in his current position. But in those days, not only were the stakes much lower, but so were the rewards. Even the fiercest rogues of the Alleys would not be able to achieve the kind of power that Isendar Vargan now had in his grasp.

Unfortunately, increased power meant that each defeat would be more painful than the last, and eventually the price would be worse than death. So Isendar would plan his next move even more carefully than usual. There would be no room for error in the future.

Word of his success should be passed on to Jolanda without delay. The daughter deserved to hear of Lefretz's defeat directly from her own father, but unfortunately the situation forced Isendar to remain in Dimalos, at least for the time being. The courier, however, would surely reach Jolanda. Isendar himself was eagerly awaiting news from Ipalos. He wondered what Jolanda was doing now. Had she found her golden-haired crush? This boy and the information he might have could be the key to solving the dilemma of the Blue Moon.

Isendar Vargan walked along the street lined with stalls. No one seemed to be paying attention to him. A shabby grey suit and a tattered cloak were the best way to hide in the crowded Dimalos. In Paidos, there were plenty of occasions to pose as the aristocratic Shadow Cross chief, dressed in black velvet. He was much more comfortable in the rags of the dusty alleys of Dimalos.

In those alleys, decades earlier, Rat had lost his virginity and killed a man for the first time. He was still tempted by the dizzying bustle of the Alleys, but younger and more agile shade commandos had taken his place. Now Rat was adventuring on a playing field just as ruthless and exciting, but far more challenging. The years in the Alleys were history, but the era of supreme power was just around the corner.

* * *

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