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AlterOne
Chapter 16
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Chapter 16
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Author's Note
Malk Nazore will henseforth be known as Malso Nazore. Originally his name was Malko, but I felt it needed to be changed since the 'ko was already being used by another lead character, Akko. I've never liked just calling him Malk though, it felt more like a nickname (same with Akko, though idk about a full change, maybe add more to his name). Malso's name will be used to shed light on his families non-fireborn origins. Names of characters will be used to denote their regional origins as you'll see once the story starts introducing more people from the Earth Region and other areas of the country.
ALSO, there is a possible graphic *** scene in here so I dunno what to say about that.
AND, I can no longer think of names for chapters since I don't know what scenes are worth taking over the title names so feel free to give names for the hell of it.
Nikita was awoken from his slumber to word of visitors come in the night. They did not name themselves, but claimed to have important business with the Dux. Every slum lord and street runner thinks their business is important, he mused. To call on me in the dead of night, they will wait. He was mulling over which tie to wear when his son called out to him from the hallway.
“Come in will you.”
Nikki, clothed in a dark silk robe over his nightwear, stepped through the bedroom parlor and into his father’s room. Upon seeing the Dux weighing his tie options, he looked to his wris****ch. “How long will you have them wait father?”
“As long as it takes me to make it down there,” Nikita replied with a backwards glance. He decided on the red one. “Have you gone down already?”
“No, of course not.”
“Good. I’ve got tea on the way so have a seat out in the parlor, I’ll be out shortly.”
By the time Nikita had come out fully dressed, the tea had come and Nikki was on his second cup. He poured his father a cup and placed it on the table before him. “You know who it is don’t you father?”
Nikita took to drinking the tea. His son had yet to grasp the art of exchange, there was no use bringing questions for which the answers were already known.
It was near an hour before the Dux and his son made their way downstairs to meet their visitors. Three cloaked individuals rose upon Nikita’s arrival, one of whom came forward to meet the Dux. A gold lined sleeve of red showed itself from beneath the cloak as the man extended his hand.
“Why are you here?” Nikita asked.
The man faltered, retracting his hand back beneath his cloak only to bring it up again to remove his hood. His gray hair fell just past his shoulders and there was no true indication of where it began and his long beard ended. Following suit, the two other hooded men revealed themselves. The first looked a perfect match to Duke Huffrey, save for the lack of a beard or lengthy hair. The other, a slightly younger version of the two with a bald head and a thick mustache under a hooked nose. The men were Lord Huffrey’s twin Marquis Fael Hollisten and younger brother Sir Broen Hollisten respectively. The uncertainty was evident on their lord brother’s face.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Huffrey said. “We were supposed to meet. You know this.”
Nikita turned to his son, “What time is it?”
“Just nearing one and forty last I checked, father,” Nikki answered.
“That puts the date of our meeting as yesterday,” Nikita said, addressing the Duke once more. “Yet here I am, not seeing you until the day past.”
“Dux Nikita, you must understand. Before I was to go about the city, I had to see the king. It’s what was expected of me,” Huffrey reasoned. “To not do so would have been a great insult and garner questions.”
“Yet insulting me is just fine,” Nikita quipped. “Need I remind you that the only reason you’re in the city is because you wanted to talk with me about a pressing matter. The attempt to mask your true intentions by bringing your heir to court the princess was an unnecessary folly. It only serves to show how little you think of me. You should have known if I wanted you to arrive unnoticed, it would have been so.”
Huffrey started to speak, but Nikki cut in. “You’ve woken us up in the middle of the night. Just get down to what brought you here.”
Marquise Fael stepped forward. “Watch your tongue boy.” Nikki began to retort, but a hand from his father silenced him.
“My son is right, explain your reason for coming Lord Huffrey.”
“My lands lie on the Fire Region’s border with that of the Earth Region,” Huffrey began. “Across the border, earthborn lords have come together and formed against me. They’ve taken to raiding the outermost towns and villages, but I fear the coalition is growing bolder by the day. They may soon look to march on my capital.”
“I was under the impression that there were laws in place that prevented cross regional expansion,” Nikita said. “In any case, this sounds like a government matter. Why have you not gone to the king with this?”
“It’s not that simple,” Huffrey replied. “The Drovans are fronting the operation. The attacks are being done in their ships, with their leadership, but the bulk of their forces come from the ranks of these rock lords.”
“So to any investigating parties, it would look as if you were being troubled by an encroaching foreign organization,” Nikita surmised. “Something the government tends not to get themselves involved in on a small scale such as this.”
“The Terragotto see our people as weak,” Huffrey went on. “They’ve grown bold on the border lands, testing the power of the fireborn and of the Syndicate. If my lands fall under their sway, it will only be the first stone in the avalanche that is the Terragotto, spreading their reach throughout the Fire Region. Is it not the will of the Syndicate to halt the advance of enemies into our people’s lands?”
Nikita took in the Duke’s words, nodding to himself. “You are correct in your words, the Terragotto are great enemies of the Syndicate and we will look to stop their advances into territory of the Aduri—something you haven’t been in near thirty years.” Lord Huffrey averted his eyes as Dux Nikita glared at him. “At the Battle of Actrium, the betrayal of my sworn Duxen in favor of the usurper Dirzo Lambert left only my most loyal underbosses and obliged noble lords. One of which was you, Lord Huffrey. You took your ships and turned tail upon seeing the tides turn against us, further lessening any chance we had of victory.”
Nikita’s words were like ice, cold and unforgiving. As he spoke, the memories of that day and the days thereafter came flooding back to him. If I’d had Lord Huffrey’s forces, we could have held them off long enough for a retreat. We could have regrouped, built a stronger force and fought on. For a while longer at least. That’s what he had told himself for a time after that, but he was only lying to himself. If I hadn’t lost that day, with half my army having forsaken me, I would have lost the next. But still…
“You left me when I needed you most,” Nikita stated. “And now, after all these years, you come to me and have the audacity to ask that I save you from what could well be certain defeat. Well Lord Hollisten…how does it feel? How does it feel to know that your last hope for survival is slipping out of your grasp?”
The Duke had no words to reply. That was all well, for Nikita already had a number of things going through his head. His blood had gotten hot in the moment. He started to calm himself, to better assess the situation that lay before him. Lord Hollisten’s forces alone are nothing, but within my host, they hold a far greater value.
“Why didn’t you go to the Kontikoff, Dirzo?” Nikita asked, curious of the lord’s answer.
Off to the Duke’s side, Sir Broen huffed, but Nikita ignored it. Huffrey gestured to his kin, “My lord brothers insisted I go to Dirzo, he being the Kontikoff and such. But I knew a craven like Dirzo Lambert was Head in name only, that the Syndicate’s true power lay in you, Nikita Vikaeli. I only wish I had understood as much thirty years sooner.”
Craven he says, thought Nikita. This from the man who himself fled from battle. “Leave us,” Nikita said, speaking to the room. “I want to talk with the Lord of Westigs alone.”
Nikki was the first to go, leading the brothers out of the room. When the door had closed behind them, Nikita drew himself close to the Duke. “I will not forgive your treachery,” he said. Huffrey, having taken to looking at the floor, gave his understanding with a nod. “During my time in exile, I had a lot of time to think—or brood rather. I cursed you Huffrey. I cursed Dirzo Lambert, Herod Pellings, Dario Starling, Seeroh Colbern, the lot of them, swearing to one day exact my revenge. Look at me Huffrey.” Lord Westigs’ eyes rose to meet those of Nikita. “I will never forgive you…but for your words, I will endure you.” Relief washed over Huffrey as he dropped to his knees. Nikita extended his hand to the lord, presenting the ring of his family. “Duke Huffrey Hollisten of Westigs, will you swear yourself to me and my House once more, now and forever?”
“I will my lord, I will,” Huffrey said in between fervently kissing Dux Nikita’s ring. “I swear to Deva on high. I swear to all the gods. I swear to you.”
“I’m not a lord,” Nikita pulled his hand away and wiped it on his pant leg. “Word of your wife’s aged beauty has reached my ears,” he said. “I want her brought to me within the hour.”
Huffrey’s eyes rose up from the floor. His lips parted but words would not come to him.
“Is that going to be a problem?”
Lord Huffrey quickly dropped his gaze, “No, it shall be as you wish Dux Vikaeli.”
Her leather booted foot tapped impatiently upon the fine carpet covering the hardwood floor as she waited in the alderman’s parlour with her fellow Veldt, Paladins Neleos and Mys. Agents 81 and 143, should I say. It irked her to have to refer to her Veldt brethren as such, but Orojin felt that a layer of distance was needed. ‘We don mask and robes, and much of the city thinks us mutes. What more can a number do than disgrace our names?’ She had argued once to the Dominus. It had been the Deva’don who’d answered. ‘A number makes you something. A name makes you someone,’ he’d said. ‘Man fears what he does not know. As an instrument of my Father, you are one among many. As it stands, the work of my Father needs naught but the faceless faithful. There shall come a day when those of this world know your face, your name upon their lips. Rejoice on that day, for on this and more, to the world you are Agent 1.’
Euryesis glanced out at the men standing in the corridor just outside the large entryway. There were four of them talking amongst themselves, all having turned so that their guns were visible to the Veldt in the room. Each man had something red about him, be it a handkerchief, the stripes on his pants, the straps of his suspenders, or the loud red shoes one of them had felt the need to wear. Each man was also a member of the Aduri Syndicate. They’d scouted the area before arriving at the front gates. The guards of the alderman’s estate had been replaced by those of the Syndicate, their numbers bolstered thrice over. At the gates, the guards there had been less than pleasant, disregarding the police order that had been presented to them and blocking the entrance. Eurye was near to reaching for her wand when the gates opened before them. With a glance to one another, the guards let them pass, grumbling beneath their breath.
Footsteps could be heard drawing near. She looked to the open door as the Aduri moved out of the way and Malso Nazore came into view with the Aduri Citepa Lars Vikaeli at his side. Nazore’s wavy hair had been tied back with a crimson ribbon to match that of his tie which lay under a vest of grey. The Vikaeli captain’s white sleeves had been rolled up to just under his elbow, a hand rested on the belt that held up his plain black pants, not an inch from the silver pistol on his person.
Nazore clasped his hands together and bore a smile on his face. “Friends, an unexpected visit, but welcome all the same. What might I ask brings you to my humble abode?” He looked from one Veldt to the next, unsure of which to whom he should be speaking.
Eurye rose to her feet and the others as well. “It is my understanding that our Veldt agent 147 was with you around the time of his death.”
“That is so,” he replied. “We parted ways following a meeting with my supervisors. His body was later found in a warehouse, his head had not.”
“I’d like to ask you a few questions,” she stated.
Lars eyed the three Veldt before him. “I didn’t think it took so many people to ask questions.”
“I didn’t think it took so many to answer them,” Eurye countered.
Lars started to retort, but Malso broke in. “My men will leave my side as long as yours do likewise. Then we can talk.” At Eurye’s nod, Malso turned to his man. “If you’ll excuse us.”
Nazore led her across the room and through a door into a side office. He stepped around the desk and took his seat while Eurye took the one across from him. Malso leaned back in his chair, “Now how about you taking that mask off so I can see that pretty face?” When Eurye gave no reply, he shrugged. “No? Okay.”
“I want to know who killed Sigros,” she said.
“Was that his name then?”
“Answer me.”
“What makes you think I wasn’t the one who did it?”
“My lord has considered it,” Eurye admitted. “But I’ve done my best to wipe such thoughts from his mind.”
“How kind of you.”
“I’ve learned enough about you to know that you have nothing to gain from killing Sigros.”
“That Veldt in particular at least,” Malso said as he reached under the desk and pulled out a bottle of brandy. He produced a pair of cups and poured a glass for each of them. He placed a glass in front of her and took a sip of his own. “I admit, he was quite useful. Though such begs the question of what else might you know.”
“I know you’re a member of the Aduri Syndicate and involved in a number of criminal activities within this district,” she answered. Malso made nothing of it, that part was near common knowledge. “I know you killed Alderman Dueor as well as Supervisor Tuldin.”
“Of course you do,” Malso downed the rest of his glass and poured another. “You work hand and hand with the city’s police, yet with such information, I remain unchained. Now why is that?”
That answer eludes me as well. “I’m the one asking the questions here”
“Well you’re not doing a very good job of it now are you?”
“I don’t have time for this,” she said. Her patience was wearing thin.
“On the contrary,” Malso smirked. “You’ve come all the way out to my district to ask me but a single question. I’d think you have all the time in the world.”
Eurye reached across the desk, yanking Malk to his feet and yelled, “Tell me who killed Sigros!”
A look of realization crept across Malso’s face just as the door burst open. Lars and his Aduri rushed into the room with guns drawn. The Veldt stood just outside the door, wands at the ready. Malso stared back at her, a smile playing on his lips. His words came in a near whisper.
“You want to know who killed your dear Siggy?” he asked. He searched for her eyes within the slits of her mask. “It was the Xenator.”
She sent him back into his seat, the brown sloshing onto his desk and clothes. Malso gave no mind, downing what remained of the liquor. “Avenge him if you must. You’ll just become another number on Xenator’s tally.”
Eurye showed him her back as she turned to leave, shouldering past the Aduri as she went. Behind her, Malso was taken by a fit of laughter.
He’d been with Ferra again last night, the second night in a row since he was shot. It was in those times of passion that his ailing arm truly made its presence felt. Ferra Grey was not a gentle lay. She ****ed with a fierceness, riding him as a knight would ride a stallion, hard and strong. He recalled the last night, when he’d disregarded the pain in his arm and took Ferra’s small but toned frame into his arms and flipped her over, taking her from behind. What had first been surprised laughter turned to grunting moans, each thrust threatening to send her over and out of the bed. Once he had finished on her, she turned over to look at him, a grin upon her face as she looked up at him from beyond the sweat matted short hair. She brushed the hair out of her face and looked down at his arm. He too looked and saw that under the bandages the wound had opened and blood streaked down his arm and stained the bed. Ferra took his hand and put a bloodied finger in her mouth and began rolling her tongue around it, keeping her eyes locked on him all the while. She slowed it from her mouth and pressed her tongue into his palm and took it up his arm, clearing the red as she went until she reached the bandages. She brought her mouth from his arm and to his lips. The taste of his own blood struck him for a moment as their tongues danced, but soon as he tasted was her as she made his mouth her own. When sleep came upon them at last, they fell into a slumbering embrace. By the time he had awoken, she’d long since gone into the night, just as on the day past.
“Pondering life’s mysteries I see.” Akko had been looking out the window as he sipped the wine a servant had placed in his hand while he waited. He turned to see Merik standing him with a glass of his own. “Shall we go see the bald one then?”
They made their way through the corridors of the Lambert holding until they arrived at a door on the end of a hall. Merik stepped in with Akko behind him to see Juri Tusen at his desk, one hand guiding a pen across paper, while the other flew across the keys of a typewriter. Only after the two had been seated across from him did his eyes rise from his work.
“Apologies for the tardiness,” Merik said.
Juri put down his pen and clasped his hands together. “No worries sir, it’s to be expected of you. I smelled the spirits on your breath while you were still down the hall. It’s an improvement. I used to be able to smell it even if you were a floor below.”
“What can I say?” Merik grinned.
“That you’ll put an end to these late nights and indecent activities,” Juri answered, unamused. “Bedding the wives and daughters is unbecoming of a man engaged and heir to the Syndicate. When said wives and daughters of those of the cities higher echelon, it borders on stupidity.”
“You wound me Juri.”
“Not enough to put an end to your follies,” Juri stated. He turned to Akko. “How’s the arm holding up Akko?”
Akko had it back in the sling and gave it a small pat with his other hand. “It’s like I don’t even have a hole in it.”
“I wish that were the case,” Juri replied. “But it’s a glaring problem to our plans.”
“Has Merik not told you of the revised plan then?” Akko asked. “I’m to be made a Barridan.”
Juri looks from Merik to Akko and back again and leans back in his chair, “Go on.”
“We’ve already discussed how our operations here have been compromised,” Merik started. “But neither you nor I can get close to our underlings to find out who the person or persons responsible are. Akko can. With a man within the ranks of our subordinates, any whispers of treachery will be known to us.”
“Who’s to say that these whispers will reach Akko’s ears,” Juri replied. “If Akko is hotshotted into a leadership position, he will have a hard time gaining the love of his men, much less that of his fellow Barridans.”
“That’s why we’ll be using new recruits,” Merik stated. “Men with no outstanding loyalties.”
Juri was not wholly convinced. “This assignment isn’t something where if there’s a mistake, it can be hidden within the shadows of the job. It will all be out in the open and if unseasoned recruits are to be Akko’s force, the entire thing will be over before it begins.”
Merik started to speak, but Akko interjects, “I have a slightly different plan. I’ll need my own men, yes, but I already have people in mind. During my time in the military, I came up with some of the best fighters in the military. Some of those men are now civilians and let’s just say life isn’t all sunshine and daises as they thought. I’ll put together a team that can find this traitor as well as get the job done in the schools. With each school that comes under us and the men we’ll train, you’ll have a force to effectively combat the Veldt, I assure you.”
Juri looked to Malk and back and Akko, “I wasn’t aware that we’d discussed that issue with you.”
“You didn’t have to,” Akko replied. “Gun wielding combat has proved largely ineffective against the Veldt, not only for the Syndicate, but the other Orgs as well. Your men’ll need to hone the gift the gods have bestowed upon them if they are to defeat the Veldt.”
“And you believe these men you have in mind will be able to go up against the Veldt?” Juri asked.
“Undoubtedly.”
Juri nodded his head and rose to his feet. He extended his arm over the desk and Akko rose to shake it. When their hands break, Juri sat down in his chair and went back to work. Merik put his arm around Akko as they made for the exit. Akko could smell the alcohol on his breath now clearly, “I trust that I won’t come to regret this decision.”
Darkness was starting to creep across the sky as the day began to wane. Just outside the gate, a car was waiting for him. Once in the backseat, he turned to the man next to him. “It’s done.”
“Take us back,” said Ril Ceverza.
AUTHOR NOTES
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