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Torn God: Watcher of Deep Places (Web Novel) - Book 5: Chapter 19 Duties of State [Part 2]
Book 5: Chapter 19 Duties of State [Part 2]
This chapter is updated by JustRead.pl
I gave Idris a bored stare, making no effort to hide my disinterest.“I’ve heard rumors you were once a slave…” he ventured, tugging thoughtfully at his long beard.
“Who told you that?” I growled.
“No one. It’s a common tale for foreign arrivals in Al-Lazar,” he answered, his tone maddeningly calm. “We are, after all, a free city. It wasn’t hard to guess.”
“Why, you—”
“Don’t you feel any gratitude for the city that protected you from the slaver’s whip?” he interrupted before I could launch into a proper tirade.
I narrowed my eyes, letting my anger simmer. “I owe this city nothing. I bought my own freedom, and I tore the corrupt Council from its throne with my own hands. If anything, Al-Lazar should be thanking me, you ingrate!”
Idris shook his head, leaning forward so far that his beard nearly dipped into his teacup. “It doesn’t matter where you came from. You are still sworn to the Salahaem.”
The old bag of bones was trying to pivot, retreating from a failed gambit.
“Al-Lazar is weakened right now. The new order of government and with the Adventurers’ Guild all but broken, we might not have the strength to face the trials to come. We’ve relied on hired swords for too long. And Aranthia and the Empire? They sense our vulnerability and want to drain us further, charging us more than ever for their soldiers. All of them covet the one thing only Al-Lazar can provide—Dust.”
Farzan placed both hands on the table, the metal of his gauntlets scraping against the table. “We’re already under siege, Gilgamesh, whether or not everyone realizes it. Lady Aelayah was one of the first to see it coming. We need you.”
“I still do not see where this is headed,” I said, folding my arms across my chest and letting a note of obstinacy creep into my voice.
“We need you,” Idris pressed, leaning forward with sudden fervor. “We need you to lead our forces—be the tip of the spear. If we break our enemies in the next battle, if we crush them decisively, then real peace with the Mer becomes possible. But before we can even deal with them, we have threats closer to home.” He locked eyes with me, and I could see the intensity burning there. “Some still doubt Salahaem’s authority. We can’t touch the great Holder Houses just yet, but a minor House requires… violent correction.”
“You won this city for Salahaem,” Farzan added, his voice as rigid as the armor he wore. “But we need your might to keep it.”
Rolling my shoulders, I tried to ease the tension gathering in my muscles. “Why not send Salahaem’s own soldiers? And what’s in it for me, considering I’ve already been betrayed?”
“That will not do anything,” Idris answered. “We need to send a message, and though it pains me to say it, much of our authority is tied to you, Gilgamesh. Your reputation. A tenth of the spoils—would that satisfy you?”
I snorted. “I would be spilling the blood myself. Giving me just a tenth is basically taxing me nine parts out of ten.”
Idris steepled his fingers, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth as if this negotiation amused him. “You misunderstand. A fifth of the spoils from this small raid—and also from the war to come.”
“Better.” I settled back in my seat, which groaned under my weight. “And the value of all the chattel?”
“There are no slaves in Al-Lazar,” Idris bristled, clearly offended by my words.
I let out a cruel laugh. “Call it whatever you want. The survivors of my raid will sign indentured Contracts. If you are aiming to make an example of them, living servants serve the purpose longer than rotting corpses.”
The blatant hypocrisy of these people never ceased to grate on me. Idris bit his lip, mulling over my demand.
“It can be arranged,” he said at last.
Farzan gave a low chuckle. “Idris, never play cards with this one.”
I met Idris’s gaze, letting a sharper edge creep into my tone. “So, tell me how you want this handled.”
“We need the head of the House—and every male in the main line—eliminated.”
I arched an eyebrow, pretending to take offense. “You take me for a mindless killer? Someone who slaughters without question?”
Truth be told, I relished the idea. I had gone too long without the thrill of battle. I craved fresh blood and experience.
“Not at all,” Idris said, speaking quickly. “But this is the least painful route for Al-Lazar. A small evil for the greater good. An example must be made, to show that dissent will not be tolerated. It’s the only language some of the city’s more barbaric elements understand. And do not pretend to be a clean man of the Temples.”
“Of course,” I murmured, a dark chuckle rumbling in my chest. “For the stability of Al-Lazar—and to teach these so-called barbaric ‘dissidents’ a lesson.”
Farzan cleared his throat. “Speaking of stability, there’s another matter Idris wanted to discuss.”
“Perhaps it can wait,” Idris ventured, his voice tight with discomfort.
But Farzan would not let it drop. “No, Idris. We can not put this off. He deserves honesty.”
“Very well,” the Vizier said, straightening his robes as though he’d suffered a terrible slight. “The Salahaem line must continue. The Salahaem must be strengthened.”
I frowned. “You’ll have to be clearer than that. What exactly do you want from me?”
“We need you to father a child. An heir. With the Sultana,” Idris said, choosing his words carefully.
I blinked, taken aback. “And the Sultana—praise her name—she’s… agreed to this?”
Laughing, I looked at them both for a moment and saw that they were serious.
Idris looked aside. “Her agreement is secondary. It’s her duty to continue the line, and she’ll understand once her mind is restored.”
“You do realize what you’re asking of me?” I tried to confirm in all seriousness.
“Lady Aelayah is comely enough,” he sniffed, as though I had nothing to complain about. “It won’t be an… odious task. There are certain potions and elixirs to ensure her cooperation, to spare her any distress.”
A slow grin crept across my face. “Not overly odious, indeed.”
“It’s your obligation,” Idris reminded me, stiff with formality. “Remember, you swore yourself to Salahaem.”
I inclined my head in a mocking gesture of respect. “Then perhaps we have a deal, Vizier Idris. May the Sultana’s reign be a long one.”
It seemed that I would be able to have my cake and eat it.
