Chapter XIV : Underestimation

Taperend

All the nobles that had sworn fealty to Taperend and Lord of Dupark and had marched with their armies were in the large room. They were all arranged around an oval table which was much like a rectangle. He sat at one end while the Lord of Dupark sat at the opposite end. News of Orwen's death and about Micura now becoming Lord of Wingbearer and keeping the rebellion in motion had arrived. Thus, the council sat together to decide whether they would keep supporting Wingbearer and keep feigning alliance with Lopelanzec or betray Wingbearer and side with Lopelanzec and Rulerstead.

He had contemplated for long: should he side with Rulerstead, who had killed his nephew Robert or side with Micura, which would most probably get Arthur, Margh and Hapem all three dead. Maybe Micura may be forgiving and he may let Margh and Hapem live, only killing Arthur. He had, in the end, decided that the past was past and siding with Micura would mean Arthur's death, something he couldn't have. Thus, he would side with Lopelanzec and Rulerstead.

The council commenced and as his objective was clear, he started the meeting with a preamble. He immediately sensed that the Lord of Dupark had opposite opinions and that the Lord wanted to side with Micura. Civilized exchange of arguments continued for some time till it was clear which noble sided with which cause. The votes were almost equal – 15 vs 15.

A smirk emblazoned on his face. He recounted last night's memories. He had ambushed Dupark's second-in-command in a lonely corridor. That moment he had been clear with his motives and terms – get me five votes and I will make you the Lord of Dupark. The second-in-command had nodded and from the commander's expressions of greed and dreams, Taperend knew he had won five votes.

Now at the table he found the second-in-command smiling back at him. Now was the moment, the signal said. But he needed more time, he had to manipulate one more thing. He sneered loudly and everyone silenced when he stood up and jabbed his finger at the Lord of Dupark and bellowed, "Your notion is utter stupidity. Why shall we side with Wingbearer? Honour? No! Trust? No! Money? No! Power? No! Logic? No, not at all!"

The Lord of Dupark stood up in response and spat the words, "When I sided with Orwen, the vow I gave had carried value unlike the bitter, forced sworn fealty to Rulerstead. I will not put up with such nuisance." Taperend asked with an innocent voice, "And if we keep doing nuances then what will you do? Leave? Desert us?" The Lord of Dupark snapped his teeth and barked, "If need be then I will."

Taperend laughed inside his mind. He had gotten the lord, snared him.

"It is over! All cause is lost! Yet, shouting will achieve us nothing. So, now we shall vote, right?" Taperend said in a tone that brooked no arguments. The votes turned well in favour, 20-10, and now Dupark and Napemol were truly for Rulerstead, not a feigning alliance. He gathered up his dignity and marched out of the heavy oaken gates of the room.

As he was making towards his room, he magically sensed someone following him. He sharply turned to the right and entered a corridor he hadn't used before. The procedure was simple – he would keep making random turns until he arrived at a lonely spot.

After 10 minutes of wandering, he found a place, outside the palace, where he could make out no signs of human wear and tear nor any footprints. This was an unvisited place. He studied the location; it was a narrow alley in the city. The walls on both sides were windowless. He walked forward till he found the alley had a dead-end. Perfect. He muttered a spell which turned him duskier so that he won't be visible till his pursuer was quite near.

The footsteps got heavier. He glimpsed the Lord of Dupark, himself, appear at the bend in the alley. He dispersed the spell and the Lord of Dupark jumped a little on Taperend's sight. The man wasted no time and walked briskly towards Taperend. The lord growled while unsheathing his sword, "What you did today was unacceptable. You should not have played dirty and manipulated my second-in-command. What did you offer him? Money, position? Well, nevertheless the second-in-command will die for it." Taperend poked out his face and said, "I offered him something you would never be able to offer – your death." The Lord of Dupark sneered and said with a smirk, "Do not forget your life is always in my hands." Taperend laughed bitterly, "Wrong it never was, never is, never will be. You see my girth as a liability, a weakness, and that is the advantage. People like you always take me lightly and that is best because then I can work in the shadows. It is time for you to leave, from Cobardon." Taperend muttered a single word and a flame blossomed around the lord. He quickly mumbled another short spell and uncanny, perfect silence swept around him. The lord had his mouth open in screaming yet not a single sound escape. He blathered a long incantation which made him invisible – he wouldn't take a chance, what if someone walked in right now. Yet, he didn't move from there, watching silently till the man was burned to ashes and the ashes were blown away with the wind. There could be no signs or clues left.

He arrived at the horse shed where he made it a point to be noticed getting his horse and mounting it. He also made it a point to inform everyone that he was off to see the dragons, and he indeed was. All the way through his journey he would make it a point to get noticed so no questions would be pointed at him when they would not find the Lord of Dupark. He was trotting on his horse when the sea blue sky started to morph into the seven godly colours and the sun began to set. The sun was a red hole in the milky red clouds as it lay on the horizon. The clouds sauntered about the sun like flies around a carcass. Further away from the sun the colours mixed and mingled in a peaceful harmony from the warm orange and yellow to the meagre yet lush green to the darker and colder shades of blue.

By the time he reached the endless green parchment of the earth where lay the single most intricate and magnification being, night had fallen. On his arrival, the dragon flapped its large scaly wings which blew a strong gust causing the grass to dance like ripples in calm water. He neared the dragon with utmost caution not wanting to become a black, charred corpse crawling with maggots. The dragon saw him creeping towards it and blew two fiery, belligerent flames from its infuriated muzzle. Taperend tumbled in fright, his arm carrying a warning burn. He was in no haste we incinerated and reincarnated, again! Gathering his legs beneath him, he equally cautiously exited. With his back turned to the dragon, he was about to mount his horse when an unseasonal draft caught his neck and chilled Taperend to the bone. He swung around but his action was abnormally slow and clumsy. As he turned, he heard the dragon wail in a deep, dreadful and devastated moan of pain.

His eye should have popped out on such a glimpse - the dragon was vulnerable and helpless as it excruciatingly tried to wrench away from some invisible force. A gust barred his eyes for a moment. When he blinked open them, he stared aghast as he looked at the carcass. The dragon's wings, devoid of any life, lay slit by its side. The dragon had no head I just, just blood spraying out of the abruptly ending neck. His life's flame had died out.

Panic gripped his heart, crushing it under fear's firm fiery clutch. All cour0age evaded him. He would never be the same and again. Never!

A phrase echoed in his mind,

"The dragon robust, come to an end, so easily, has its life,

Then in this futile turmoil, how shall my fragile body survive?"

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Trevan

Tip. Tip. Tip. He woke to the serene din that exists after a raging storm. His eyes fluttered open to see Demzan's hard eyes staring at him. He jumped up and asked, "What happened? How am I here? How am I ALIVE...?" and many more questions till he ran out of words and energy. Demzan waited for a second in the silence and began, "This is a tent. I saved you. We are marching to the Raguela's temple below the river Mirzec Forest. We are near Napemol; you can see it if you peek out of the tent you can see the city. Also, you are moving with the entirety of Skinchanger Brotherhood, we have taken the disguise of a flock of sheep, you will have to dress as a herder. I will tell you more after you take in all this." He ended with a forbidding tone. Trevan subtly answered, "Continue."

Demzan recited with a dismal timbre, "If I had been a breath late you would have been no more. Lord Micura was poised to strike. I leapt and managed to drive a blade through Micura's calf. I could have killed him then, but I had backstabbed, emerged unseen … and mainly I had seen the horse he had dismounted, when he could have ridden over you. He kept his honour; I kept my honour and stayed my hand. I managed to rescue you on Micura's horse. Honestly, on even field, I couldn't have matched Micura, as you know. For the next account, my spies inform me that Lord of Dupark has deserted, though he is suspicious." Trevan interrupted, "Wait a minute. Who heads Dupark's host then?" "Taperend." Bafflement was evident on Trevan's face when Demzan remembered that Trevan had had not heard any news since long. Demzan explained, "You know that Taperend had been killed but then the Dupark had reincarnated him and won Napemol's armies to the side." "Clever ploy," commented Trevan. Demzan continued, "Though, I didn't believe that Taperend could be killed so easily thus I send my first mate to investigate this. What she found was that Taperend had expertly fooled the Dupark and that he hadn't even died in the first place, it was nothing but clever sleight of hand. I will elaborate it in detail later."

Trevan moved slowly out of his makeshift bed and towards the tent opening. He tilted his head downwards and escaped out. It was the mid of the night, he judged as he saw the city of Napemol twinkling with warm lights. He could faintly make out two flags dancing above Napemol's palace's top. Napemol and Dupark, he guessed. A cold breeze pulled his arm's hair straight. Better return, he decided, before I catch a cold.

Upon entering he saw Demzan standing in the tent's centre like a stone sentinel with a platter covered with a silver cloth placed atop both his hands. Demzan, with a slow flourish, slide the velvety cloth inch by inch to reveal their father's great-sword. The sword shone with its own inexplicable power, glowing an iridescent white, expelling all darkness. He looked up at Demzan and said with awe, "You are giving it to me?" Demzan replied, "Yes, for I shall die, sworn to not marry, a lone wolf, but you are still young and I believe you will start a family soon, though, for that, you will have to survive first. The sword shall give you strength and you shall give it an heir."

Demzan declared, "Skin-changer Brotherhood goes to war! But first, we, brothers of blood, have a ritual to tend to and a goddess to meet!"