Oathbreaker: A Dark Fantasy Web Serial-Chapter 23Arc 6: : Losses

The sun rose over a quiet city, chasing away the rolling banks of fog and the remnants of the recent storm. A golden dawn touched the coastlands, soon to become a calm blue sky.

The Fulgurkeep flew the anvil of House Forger, the azure circle of the Ardent Round, and the Silvering sun along with half a hundred others, signaling to all that it remained in the Emperor’s hands. What Mistwalker soldiers weren’t slaughtered fled with the scattered fog, their numbers ravaged. Their dark story was done, passed into history.

But not forgotten, and not without scars left behind.

I stood with Markham in his private council chambers. This time we were outside on the balcony, overlooking the lagoon city and the coastlands stretching beyond it. The Emperor hadn’t changed his garments since the failed coup, still wearing his ceremonial armor and filigreed gauntlet. He’d participated in the fighting, and like me still smelled of sweat and blood.

He rested his left hand on the balcony railing, his right hanging limp as though the weight of gold on it was too much to bear. I’d never seen him look so old, or so tired.

“I just spoke with the healers,” I told him softly. “They say she’s going to be alright, but needs rest.”

The Emperor of the Accorded Realms slumped and let out a sigh of deep relief that was very human. “Thank God. And my child?”

Rosanna and some others had been trapped in the upper halls of the palace for hours, locking themselves in a side wing while enemies tried to break in. She’d experienced complications with her pregnancy, making it difficult to move her, and what guards were present decided to make a stand.

Siriks Sontae had been with them. By the account I’d heard, he’d blocked the hall for an hour near single handedly, killing any who tried to pass him.

“Alive,” I said. “They believe he might end up being born early, though. Could be any week now.”

Markham took that in with rigid stoicism, though I saw his jaw set. “Has Ser Kaia tried to quit yet?”

While the former mercenary wasn’t at fault for the sorcerous mist that’d scattered the palace occupants at the coup’s start, her failure to protect her liege lady or the royal children had shaken the woman.

“Not yet.”

“Good. If she does, I’ll speak with her.”

He stood and turned to face me, still poising a hand on the railing. When he saw my expression he raised a graying eyebrow. “Why do you look surprised?”

I schooled my expression. “I’m not sure what you mean, Your Grace.”

He snorted. “You think I don’t love her.”

If I was less exhausted I might have been wise enough to keep my silence. Instead I said, “You told me as much, more or less.”

He shook his head. “I said I don’t trust her. As for love…”

He sighed and changed the subject. “And Darsus?”

Here I hesitated, knowing it would be hard for any man to take this news well. “The clerics are concerned. He hasn’t spoken a word, or slept, and…”

Markham’s voice lashed out like a whip. “Tell me.”

“He has a voracious appetite. The healers believe he’s been infected with the ghoul hunger.”

Markham didn’t say anything for a long time. If he’d had more than the strength of a mortal man, I suspected the stone of the railing beneath his hand would have cracked.

“He’s not the only one,” I said quietly. “The Mistwalkers were clearly trying to shore up their numbers.” I recalled the macabre feast I’d walked in on in the throne room.

“Is there anything that can be done?” Markham asked.

“The Church’s records are extensive. If there is anything—”

“Don’t bullshit me, Hewer. I know the forces you court.”

He turned and regarded me with stony eyes. “Is there anything that can be done?”

I felt cold at the realization that came upon me then. He believes them. The rumors about me.

“I am not a warlock, Your Grace.”

“You were an Alder Knight. Can you heal my son of this… affliction?”

“…No,” I said. I wasn’t entirely sure, but I feared if I tried it might end up like it had with Catrin. I would not be responsible for that, not with Rosanna’s child.

Markham made a visible effort to control himself, and after a minute became the stoic king he usually was. “This was a blow, Hewer. Between what happened with that Ser Jocelyn and this attack, there are hundreds dead. Most were blood of the peerage, and I will be blamed for it. It happened in my home, under my protection, at the hands of people I knew were enemies.”

“Your hands were tied. You couldn’t preempt the violence without looking like a tyrant, which could have hurt us more. The old emperors were deposed for that very thing, Your Grace.”

“That fact will not change the result,” he said tiredly. “This has weakened us, and there will be dark days ahead.”

He let that prophecy settle before adding, “Ser Jocelyn is gone.”

I froze. “What?”

“He was missing from his cell this morning. Fen Harus also remains unaccounted for.”

The implication wasn’t lost on me. “You believe the oradyn took him?”

“That is what it seems like. The people I placed on the tourney council told me most of the power our ritual gathered is gone now. It seems like the damned elves got one over on us.”

“You can’t believe they expected him to change?” I asked. “That they planned this?”

“And why not?” Markham asked. “The Seydii elves were nearly obliterated during the Fall, and they’re surrounded by threats. Their own cousins in the Briar would happily destroy them, their homeland is infested with evil, and humanity has proved to be unreliable allies.”

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As I considered the problem, something about Markham’s demeanor changed. Appraisal, I thought.

“I hear you were with my steward at the end.”

The Royal Steward’s body had been recovered some hours before. I hadn’t seen it, but apparently there wasn’t much left of the homonculus, as though he’d melted in death. I’d heard that western alchemists often used such methods to prevent rivals from pilfering their recipes.

The man deserved better.

“I did not see his last moments,” I admitted.

Markham nodded. “Even still, he served me faithfully for many years. The knight who stayed behind to guard him is being given postmortem honors. His name will be embedded into the Forger annals.”

“And the Vykes?” I asked. “What is to be done with them?”

The Emperor didn’t reply for a long time. Then in a much quieter, much darker voice he said, “There is a great clamor for Calerus’s execution. He is an invader and a regicide who came here under false pretenses and broke the laws of hospitality. I am well in my rights to have him killed.”

“He’s the last living member of his House,” I said. “If you kill him, it will end his family and leave Talsyn leaderless.”

Markham shook his head. “There cannot be a lack of reprisal for this.”

By “reprisal,” I knew he meant obliteration. Like with the Orleys when they’d been defeated by House Carreon, and a score of other cases across our land’s brutal history, this attack merited the full erasure of House Vyke.

If we did that, then the Accord would just be one more in a long line of similar regimes. There had to be another way to resolve this.

“By tomorrow morning, King Roland will have launched his invasion. Talsyn is in our hands. If you leave their king alive and keep his cooperation, it could make the people there more compliant. If you show mercy, then perhaps we can hold that land without occupying it by force and risking another generation of blood and resentment.”

“I do not recall making you one of my counselors,” Markham noted in a dry tone.

I shrugged. “That is my advice, Your Grace. You were the one who told me that war with Talsyn could hamstring us. Remember there are other battles we need to be ready for. Hasur still has allies, ones I suspect were part of this conspiracy. And there is still Seydis.”

He’d been the one to reveal to me about his plans for crusade. I could tell my words affected him, but Markham kept his thoughts well hidden.

“…I will think on your advice. For now, King Calerus has offered no resistance. He has also made it clear that any attempt to purify the remains of his sister will not be tolerated, so she is being kept under heavy guard.”

He dismissed me then, but I knew there would be more questions from him and the rest of the Accord’s leaders in the days to come. Before I left the balcony, I gave him one more piece of counsel.

“Tell King Roland not to lay siege to the Peak of Garlands. In fact, ask him to keep well clear of it if at all possible. What’s waiting inside that castle needs to remain undisturbed.”

At least until I figured out what to do about it. Markham told me he’d take my advice under consideration, which would have to suffice for the time being.

That was a problem for another day. I had plenty enough for the present one.

Catrin was gone from the dungeon tower on my return. I barely had time to let that fact settle before other tasks began to besiege me.

The castle was in chaos. There were bodies to clean, names to tally, the danger of traps and other nasty surprises left by the attackers. With the betrayal perpetrated by Houses Ark and Hunting, distrust and paranoia were rampant. Accusations were levied and old grudges dusted off.

Some suggested bringing in the Priory to ask questions.

Hendry fell under fire for the actions of his father, but in light of Brenner’s death and the capture of those knights who’d followed him the Emperor was merciful. It was Lord Vander Braeve who spoke on the young man’s behalf, asking for leniency.

But leniency was not the mood of the court, and Markham was right when he’d told me that there must be reprisal. House Hunting was dissolved, its lands given over to the stewardship of other local powers, Brenner’s name stricken from the Golden Annals. His ambition had cost him his legacy.

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I didn’t get the chance to speak with Hendry that day, but heard later he’d accepted this judgement and asked to at least keep his own knighthood. The Emperor agreed, but dismissed him from the Fulgurkeep’s garrison.

Of the other traitor there was no sign, but reports came in later of a company of white-and-gold clad knights fleeing across the countryside. They moved at night, and commoners said they rode on pale horses that moved fast as birds. The group seemed to be heading west towards the Gylden, and likely further into the Bannerlands.

The court sent out riders to warn that country, but I suspected we hadn’t seen the last of Evangeline Ark. The clerics who’d tended to her were found slaughtered, torn apart as though by an animal. The Royal Clericon remained unaccounted for.

The tournament was left without conclusion, but every tourney fighter who’d survived the Lindenwurm and helped defend the castle from the Mistwalkers afterward was given honors and named knights of the Accord. Some of those hadn’t been knights when they’d arrived in the capital, and I had no doubt it was partly an effort to shore up the loss of strength and salvage something from the disaster.

Ser Sain, the Hyacinth Knight, was called three times during these ceremonies. Strangely, the man never showed.

Many had seen me wearing his armor during the coup, so I suspected there wasn’t much confusion in the palace itself. However, stories circulated like a bad cold throughout the commonfolk.

Much of this I didn’t learn for many days. I had my own losses to account for.

As the third night since the coup settled over the city, I walked the emptying streets until I found a familiar bridge. It overlooked the gentle waters of a lake in the middle of the lagoon, its surface calm and shaded black and blue as the moons rose.

She waited for me on the edge of that bridge, one leg pulled up under her skirts so she could wrap an arm around it and the other hanging over the water. She didn’t look at me as I stopped next to her.

She wore a yellow dress tonight, like the first time I’d met her. This time it included a white shift beneath, the frills peaking out beneath the hem of the long skirt and around her shoulders. She’d brushed her hair and cleaned herself up. The wound on her shoulder seemed to be healing, but I could still make out some bruises.

“I’ve been worried about you,” I said.

Catrin smiled softly without taking her eyes off the water. “I know. Sorry about that, I just… needed to think, I guess.”

She’d fed recently. Her skin looked warmer, a slight blush touching her cheeks.

“You’ve been to the Backroad?” I asked.

The dhampir nodded. “Yeah. What, worried I ate some poor vagrant?”

“Of course not.” I adjusted my red cloak around my shoulders. I wore no armor beneath, and felt both vulnerable and chilled without the usual weight of metal.

Normally this was where she’d grin and tell me she was just teasing. Instead her expression remained pensive, and still she wouldn’t look at me.

There was so much I wanted to say, to ask. I wanted to know she was alright, but knew she wasn’t. I wanted to tell her everything would be alright, but doubted it would. I wanted to offer her my blood so she could feel how sorry I was, how much I’d missed her in the days since she’d vanished.

Instead I just sat on the bridge next to her and watched the moons rise. Minutes passed, then half an hour. She didn’t go, but neither did she break the silence. Something told me it was best to let her take the time she needed, so neither did I.

“Joy is going to have a kid.”

I blinked, taken aback by the unexpected topic. “I see.”

Catrin leaned her head toward me and lowered her voice into an almost conspiratorial pitch. “She doesn’t know who the dad is, but she insists she’s going to sniff him out and make him take responsibility. We’re all working together to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t tear through half our customers.”

“That sounds like a difficult job.”

“Oh, Joy is mostly bark. A little bite, but she listens better than she lets on. I think she’ll be a pretty good mom, honestly.”

“Catrin…” I shook my head, trying to find the words. This wasn’t how I’d expected this conversation to go.

“Let me finish,” she said with sudden force. “Please.”

I fell quiet and waited.

“I fucked up,” she said in a tight voice. “Bad. I wanted to help, to be part of your life, but I wasn’t cut out for it. I was fucking terrified. At the Count’s mansion, at the graveyard, during those days with that thing in my head, and in my skin…”

She placed a hand to her right shoulder. “I spent two days after I left the tower vomiting, and I can still feel things crawling in me.”

I closed my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Cat.”

“I know. I know you blame yourself, but I own my choices Al. Don’t take those from me.”

“I’m the reason he got you,” I said before I could stop myself. “When I tried to pull you out of the undercity, and…”

“I don’t blame you for that either.” She sighed. “Both of us have natures that aren’t too fond of each other. I don’t believe the vampire in me is all of who I am, or that the paladin in you is all of you, not even close. Damn anyone who says otherwise. But…”

But. Something about that word put a knot in my chest. Another part of me was still trying to figure out how this had anything to do with Joy.

“Shit.” Catrin ran a hand through her brown hair. “I don’t even know how to say it.”

I suspected I knew exactly what she wanted to say, and was in no hurry to urge her on.

But I was wrong, and wasn’t at all prepared for what she told me next.

“I was too.”

I frowned. “You were what?”

Catrin looked close to tears, and her hand was spinning in the air like she could pull the words out. “I was… damn it Al, I was pregnant.”

For a long minute, I had no idea what to say. The words barely registered at first. When they did, my first emotion was confusion.

“I thought…” I paused, thinking furiously. “But you told me that you can’t.”

Can’t have children. Somehow I couldn’t even bring myself to say the words.

“I said I’m never alive long enough for it to take.” Catrin’s eyes were shut, her chin tilted up as though the cool breeze blowing in off the bay could settle her nerves. “I didn’t think it was possible either, but the demon sensed it while I was his prisoner. He told me it’s possible to keep the baby alive.”

Demons lie. Somehow I knew Catrin didn’t need to hear that just then, so I kept my lips firmly shut until I could say safer words.

“How?”

“A lot of blood. Enough that I’d have to kill many times over. Yith said he could do it, if I asked him to. That I wouldn’t have to hurt anyone or even lift a finger, just let him bring me what I needed. And I…”

I realized I was shaking my head, a slow rhythm that was difficult to stop. “You didn’t say anything to me.”

“I was barely lucid that whole time. And besides…” She brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. “What was I supposed to say? Hey, let’s leave me possessed by this monster from the pits of hell while he murders countless people for the next nine months, on the off chance he’s telling the truth and we might get a kid out of it?”

A hundred questions fought for attention in my head, and I realized my heart was beating faster. “Cat, I don’t even know what to say. Is that something you wanted?”

“If you’d asked me a year ago, or even a few months ago?” She shrugged. “Hell no. Half Dead Cat, a mother? I’d have laughed in your face. But…”

Catrin lifted both her legs and hugged them close to her chest, staring at the lagoon over her knees. “It’s not really something I’ve ever thought about. But when I learned it was possible? When I realized that you might be…”

I lost my breath when I realized what she meant. Mine. The world seemed to spin. Mine and Cat’s.

“And even if it wasn’t yours!” She spoke rapidly, fighting to get all the words out before her courage failed her. She let her legs dangle again and started gesticulating wildly with a sudden burst of energy. “We could have treated it like it was, you know? We’re both so fucked up, but I thought maybe if we did something right, it could make up for all of that. That we could make something, together, and—”

She stopped talking abruptly and made a small choking sound. I realized she was crying. A dry, quiet weeping that lasted only a short time. My mind had gone entirely blank.

“And even if the baby was messed up,” she continued in a voice still strained with grief, “if it was like me, I knew you could still love them. Because that’s the kind of man you are, Alken. And that one thought made me want it so bad. It made me want it so much it almost made a demon of me.”

My whole being felt like a storm. There was doubt, confusion, rage. A grief for the loss of something I’d not even known I might have. I hated Yith more than I’d ever hated anything.

What are you doing? You fool.

I silently berated myself. Whatever my sense of loss might be, it was nothing compared to the one at my side.

Not sure how she’d react, I reached out and pulled Catrin close. She stiffened at first, then relaxed and buried her face in my chest. I held her tight and let her shake in my arms, glad she couldn’t see my own face. Just like she’d done for me the night Lias had betrayed me, I stroked her hair and waited until she was done.

Some time later, Catrin’s grip on my arm tightened and I let her go. She wiped at her face, sniffed and blew out a breath.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what?”

“I didn’t want you to find out this way. I wasn’t even sure I’d say anything. Me and my big mouth.”

A more cowardly part of me wished she hadn’t said anything, but I crushed that voice with a firm boot. “I’m glad you told me. This isn’t something you should have to carry alone.”

Catrin opened her mouth to speak, but paused and pressed her lips together.

“What is it?” I asked, sensing a similar trepidation to before.

“I’ve been doing some thinking the last few days. Making decisions.”

I nodded slowly, not sure I liked where this was going. “And?”

“I’m going to leave the Backroad. I’ll stick around long enough to help Joy pay off her debt to the Keeper. After that, I’m going to move on.”

For a moment, I felt a surge of hope. Had she decided to take my offer, join my group?

She crushed my hopes with little more than a sad, fond look. “I’m leaving. Leaving Urn, I mean.”

Another punch to my gut. Perhaps the first had numbed me, because my voice somehow sounded calm. “Where will you go?”

Catrin considered a moment, her eyes turning up to the night sky. “Not quite sure. I was thinking I’d go back home, see if I can find the farm I was born on. Probably isn’t there anymore even if I could remember the way, but I want to try.”

“…I see.” My gaze went to the dark waters of the lake. My own reflection was visible below, where the moonlight reflected. Catrin’s reflection looked hazy and dark, its shape subtly wrong.

“And I need to figure some things out,” Catrin continued. “What I am, where I came from, what happened to make me this way. I’ve run from it all my life, and maybe it’s just that old bastard Laertes in my head, but I can’t ignore it anymore. I need to know myself. There are answers out there.”

“I could help you with that here,” I told her, trying to keep the desperation from my voice. “I have resources, people who can find that knowledge.”

“I’m going, Al. I’ve decided.”

My heart sank.

Catrin nudged me in the arm. “Come with me.”

I turned to stare at her again. “What?”

Her face held none of the grief and doubt I’d seen in it so often lately. Her brown eyes were clear and focused, meeting mine without so much as a flinch. She stood, and something made me stand as well so we faced one another.

“You made me an offer during the festival, that I could leave my life and be part of yours. I’m making you the same offer now. Come with me. Get away from all of this. They’ll survive without you, and you’ve done your time.”

She waved at the ancient city sprawling around us. “We’ll see the world, get into trouble, fuck like rabbits. It’ll be fun. And maybe…”

Here she hesitated. “If Yith could do it, maybe someone else can? Maybe we could have a life. Together.”

Her offer stunned me speechless. It stunned me, and…

It tugged at me harder than any supernatural oath or knightly vow I’d ever sworn. The idea of that future, that freedom, unfolded in my mind like a clear tapestry, as tangible as the reflection of my own face in the water.

And I wanted it. But…

“I can’t just leave,” I said in a voice that was hoarse with emotion. “Cat, there are people here I’m responsible for. Maybe they could take care of themselves, but if I just went away…”

I’d end up living a half life, always looking behind me.

“I made a vow,” I tried to explain. “I swore to protect this land until my death.”

And even beyond it.

Catrin nodded, her expression remaining calm. “I know. And that’s important to you, isn’t it? I get that, but… it’s like a chain around your neck, Alken. I don’t understand why you’re so loyal to them. They look like a pack of wolves to me.”

I tried to find the words to explain, but they turned to mud on my tongue. She was right, of course. The order I served was broken and violent, full of greed and dogma and doubt. There were weeds in the stone, and they dug their roots deep.

But it could be beautiful too. I’d seen wonders I could barely describe. Even before the elves had given me a way to hear the land’s voice in my soul, I’d loved the forests and the hills and the hidden rivers of my homeland. I loved the way its people poured their very souls into everything they did, filling the land with a sense of personality so tangible it became real as air and light.

Part of me even loved court life, at least as I remembered it back in Karles and Seydis during more peaceful times. There was so much art and hope here, so much history and potential, and I wanted to see if my struggles might preserve some fertile ground.

Perhaps I hadn’t truly chosen this life more than choices had been made for me, but it didn’t make my commitment to it false either. Before Catrin and Emma had entered my life, I’d drowned in the darkness.

Now I remembered what I fought for, I couldn’t just abandon it.

Catrin searched my face and smiled softly, though her eyes were full of regret. “Damn. I just made this harder, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “I don’t want you to go.”

And I knew she needed to.

“Hey.”

She reached out and cupped my face with a cold hand. “This doesn’t mean goodbye forever. I love you, big man. I always will, and even if it’s goodbye for tonight, I’ll be your friend from now until death and whatever comes after it. I’ll probably be around a long time, and even if you turn into a very gloomy ghost, I’ll listen to your woes over a pint.”

She searched my eyes, as though expecting me to say something. When I couldn’t muster any words, she pulled my face down and kissed me. I returned the kiss fiercely, as though that alone might convince her to stay. When we broke apart, she bit my lower lip gently and broke skin with a single fang, taking just a small taste of my blood.

Whatever she felt in it made her eyes blink rapidly. Or maybe that was all her.

“Your eyes look different,” she told me. “They’re brighter.”

“If you ever need my help…” I started to say.

“Hey, no oaths.” She gave me a hard look. “No debts, no promises, no obligations.”

I made myself nod. She smiled. “And look after the droplet. That Hendry boy too. Tell him I’m sorry for nibbling on him.”

She pulled away, keeping hold of my hand until distance forced our fingers apart. Her expression mirrored mine, full of pain and regret and affection.

“Cat, I—”

“I know. And I’m sorry. This is goodbye for now.”

I watched her until she turned, and kept watching until the distant mist — a natural one — made her little more than a vague impression of swishing skirts and confidently swinging arms.

“Goodbye, Cat.”

Why couldn’t I have said that when she could still hear me, or found the words to convince her to stay?

Why didn’t I go with her?

Why couldn’t I tell her I loved her?

Those thoughts would continue to plague me for many long months to come.