Chapter Thirty-One
Varis
He was loath to leave his eggs, but when the king of Monsmount summoned him, Ghreid and Rath, they did their best. With Slath and Asha dutifully guarding their nest, of course.
Falustus had returned to the estate the day after the events, pale and worn. “Just… Tell them the truth. Lurin…”
Varis had tried to get more from him, but Falustus was remarkably glib.
“They wanted you and your children dead as a statement to garner control of the nation. They tried to get Lurin to kill you and the eggs… Just tell them Baltheir spoke to the boy and revealed to him another path and the other priests were eaten as a testament to their lack of faith or some other bullshit.” Lust handed Varis a letter from Lurin himself and shrugged. “This has the names of who died.”
Varis agreed, and kept the letter tucked on him until time to leave.
They rode wyvernback to the king’s castle and sat in wait for bare moments before the king bustled in, no longer a fan of making them wait for posturing’s sake. And at his sides were two ostentatiously dressed Baltheirian priests. Pretty high up, if Varis had any guess.
“Thank you for taking time to meet with us this afternoon.” King Reigh drew them into an antechamber room with a large oval table set as the centerpiece.
He took one head of it and let Varis and Ghreid take the other with a kind gesture to a servant to have their chairs pulled out.
The priests, however, stood until they were seated and pulled their own chairs out.
“You are to give us the accounting of events.” One priest’s demands were met with a scorching glare from King Reigh. “If you would so kindly.”
Varis pulled a folded and sealed parchment from within his robes and slid it across the table. “This is from a priest that was left behind when the church abandoned the temple there.”
“There were no priests left behind.” One stone-faced male pulled the letter to himself and frowned, opening it carefully. “Or were supposed to be.”
The priest continued reading, passing the first page off to the next. “Such a loss…”
“A quite educated young male. Not sure why he was left behind.” Varis drummed his fingers as they continued reading.
“He was a ward of the church, turned over due to his family’s poverty,” the priest said. The answer came too quick to be a lie. “In this case, it seems they were leveraging him from a wealthy patron’s endowments and when the money stopped—they kept him as an errand boy. Perhaps pocketing…”
Varis waited as patiently as possible.
“Definitively pocketing.” Another priest shook his head. “And what is your account?”
“Lurin saved the life of myself and my eggs. Everyone that broke into my nesting chamber set on harming my eggs was devoured.” Varis stared the men down as they nodded with wry disgust.
“Naturally, the church seeks reentry into the port nation of Sauria with governance over our properties.” The priest, staring at the paper, twisted his face unpleasantly.
“Your properties were funded by the crown and belonged to the crown as an agreement for your exemption from taxes.” Ghreid pulled out a wrapped bundle of his own parchments, deeds to every property the church had claim to.
“The king made an offer to you to sell the properties back, you refused, and they were assembled into the greater assets to cover the kingdom’s mounting debts. ”
“This was a grave oversight on our part.” One of the robed men shook his head.
“You understand, if there was a presence of the Baltheirian church in the ports, we’d have been less generous.
You know we do not tolerate your narrow views on love and the shame you place on innocent people for natural things.
” Ghreid stared the men down and tapped the papers.
“Natural things that you engage in, yourselves. Quite frequently.”
Steely gazes homed in on Ghreid.
“Now, the presence of the church is not up for debate. Neither Sauria nor their independent territories will accept them. And we demand restitution.” Ghreid stared the men down as they flinched. “And the king will back me up on this and will seize any assets the crown holds.”
A dry noise cracked free of the center of the three priests. Speechless, shaking, and defeated, he waited.
Varis extended a hand and took a short list on a page from Ghreid.
“You will surrender all ashen ones you have captured and kept hidden. Yes, we know. We know where they are, what you’ve done to them, and we will take a sum of no less than a cask of gold per each of them as compensation for their ongoing support and education. ”
A short nod, no denial, no argument, was all they got.
“Good. No need to outline the life-for-life consequences to not turning these men, women, and children over. How many are there?” Varis raised a brow, the gesture practiced.
“Nine, at the moment. Soon to be ten. A young boy is on his way to the capital.” The priests cowered as Ghreid hissed.
Varis nodded, his admission corroborating his intelligence.
“We want enough masonry tools to set up thirty stonemasons for a career. Money is no good to us. We can trade with Rammolia or Kaliman if you like, but we’d rather get it from Monsmount first.” Ghreid tented his fingers and stared as the three whispered among one another about who they knew could supply the tools, one comment being about the tools they’d taken with them when sweeping the port before leaving…
“Agreed,” the middle one said.
“Five tons of fiber waste,” Varis said, staring the three down. “Wool ends, cotton offcuts, flax fibers, or shredded corncobs.”
“This is an odd request…” The priest on the left glanced at the other two, sharing confusion between them.
“We’re still cleaning up the oil your priests poured in the bay. This sets back our full opening potential by two months.” Varis glanced at his sheet. “We need lumber to repair the docks. Fortunately, we can extract some of the bog oil to treat the wood.”
King Reigh tapped the table. “The kingdom will offer the lumber as a gesture of goodwill.”
“Are you certain? It’s their orders that triggered this event.” Ghreid gestured at the men who balked in protest.
“We had no prior knowled—”
“Of course not. You only ordered destruction, not how.” Varis leaned back in his chair. “Now, can we please dispense with the theatrics? I wish to get back to my nest and my young.”
“I resent the fact that you seem to believe the church culpable in—” A priest started again.
“Then resent away. At our backs is the entire nation of Sauria. Rammolia is desperate to work with us. Kaliman is opening trade with Monsmount and Sauria once more at our behest. What do you have to offer besides your dung lord?” Ghreid glared and earned silence and vicious glares.
“And last but not least, a blanket ban on all sanctioned activity of the church within the nation of Sauria and all independent territories.” Varis laid the paper down. “In other words, keep out and stay out.”
“You cannot d—” A priest stood in a rush, face reddening.
“I can. I can also eat all three of you, which I am within my rights to do as we have absolute proof you attempted to murder children. I know what punishment you recommend for women who take wyvern’s venom.
This stunt bears the blood of innocents.
Seventeen dead. Five of which were children.
My mate was terrorized and forced to eat a human—” Ghreid halted as Varis interrupted.
“Three,” Varis glared.
“Three humans! And he’d do it again and I’d watch!
Our eggs were stressed! The lives that were ordained and prepared by the gods and fates themselves!
Dragons are not mortal creatures. We are forces of the fates that drive the blessings they give!
Who is to say a god that orders us is not Balthier himself?
Is that not how you excuse the male pairings of dragons, is that they are driven by the gods, holy animals?
” Ghreid stood to match the priest and scales darkened, more draconic features tainting his jawline, teeth sharpening.
“We will declare outright war on your entire organization. This will not be a war against mortals, as our creed has forbidden. This will be the hand of the gods smiting those who stand in their way.”
In the places on the table where Ghreid’s hands lay, smoke billowed, his handprints burning into the wood. Magic flowed through him as words seared into the table itself.
Go, ye pious men. On this day, no love between those who consent in earnest shall be forbidden. Dragons are the hands of god, and you have turned your cheek. When the strike comes, disobedient children, there will be no inheritance in Baltheir’s land for you. Yne prusari n Baltair tepanu frei.
The ancient dragon’s tongue, a language used long before Elander, proto Elander, Elish, or even common Elander. The first written language that all priests learned, what half their sacred texts were written in.
The tongue of gods, they called it.
Varis, unfortunately, hadn’t learned it.
Ghreid read it aloud. “To be cleansed by fire is to be loved by Baltheir.”
The three, scenting of utter panic, made their holy gestures and whispered among one another until the center one spoke with shaking words. “As he commands.”
“So we will get our masonry tools? The fibers? The blanket-banning agreement? King Reigh will arrange for the lumber and deal with you on that route? I assume this jeopardizes your position as the official religion of the nation?” Ghreid pulled his hands back, clawed fingers flexing.
So few humans knew a dragon’s capabilities with magic.
A little display like that, while exhausting, was relatively simple to do, or so Varis was told.
“You will have all you’ve asked for. In the grand scheme, your requests are reasonable considering the harm that has been done.
” Before the priest could say anything else, King Reigh waved his hand and dismissed the men, his face twisted in frustration that clearly said you will be paying for the damage to my table later.
Ghreid stared down at the markings and shrugged. “Have them buy the table off you as a sacred message from the dung lord himself.”
Reigh squinted at the table. “I would argue…but you have a point.”
“Are we in good standing?” Ghreid settled himself into his seat.
“Good standing, sitting, and good running. Now, you’ll be in good flying if you can get at least another dock open by month’s end.” He gave Varis and Ghreid a hopeful grin.
“We’re short skilled labor. Send some carpenters who can apprentice for at least two months, and we’ll compensate them well. We’ll have everything shipshape, as it were.” Ghreid offered a sharp-toothed smile.
“Go home, dragon. Your mate looks like he’s about to brood a finial if you don’t move on.” King Reigh sighed. “And I’ll be forever grateful if before I die, these damn shitlords are run out of the country.”
Ghreid laughed. “From your mouth to Baltheir’s ear.”
Varis stood beside his mate and took his hand for a quick squeeze. Negotiations went so much smoother when one possessed infinite wealth and the ability to turn into a two-story-tall bitey beast that breathed fire and steam.