“It was thought that the tribesmen could do nothing,” the guardsman continued. “That their steeds would not be expended on trying to attack the Darroks. That the Trogens would be able to fend any tribesmen off with just bows, if they did emerge to resist. Only a very small number of the tribesmen’s sky riders have even been seen in recent weeks… and none in force near this village. Their numbers were underestimated. It is said that they attacked together… concentrating in a group on one Darrok after another, felling as many Trogens as they could.”
Had the soldier looked up, he would have noticed no change in expression on the Unifier’s face. There was no outward sign of the instantaneous rage that was now churning violently within the tall, dark-haired being. It would not have been unusual, for whether fire or ice surged within Him, His countenance could remain uncannily placid.
The Unifier did not have to ask which magnate or leader had made the errant decision. It would not have been the Trogen leaders, a race of beings that rarely underestimated an opponent. The Trogen warriors had likely had great resentment for the order to go unescorted to begin with. They never would have gone unescorted under their own full command. If anything, the clannish Trogens would probably respect the tribal humans too much. The Trogens that had survived the fight would surely bring word of the debacle back to their own leaders, straining an already tenuous alliance.
The messenger would have been horrified to learn of the torments that the Unifier considered giving to the one responsible for the decision to leave sky steeds off of the Darroks.
The fact that the guard did not know his Master’s thoughts also mercifully spared him the brief moment when the Unifier contemplated immolating the guard, simply for having brought word of vulnerabilities that could have been so easily avoided.
The Unifier did not reply to the guard, instead calmly walking past the messenger and on towards the steps leading up to the wall walk. The Unifier’s long, rapid stride carried Him there in moments. The guard remained on his knee behind, not about to follow the Lord of Avanor.
The Unifier simmered, yet what was done, had been done. Another measure would have to be considered in regard to the Five Realms. The ongoing defiance of the tribesmen, like a wind fanning a fire through parched woodlands, had spread growing flames of hatred within Him. The news of their partial success against the Darroks made His spirit boil.
For just a moment, He contemplated the ironies inherent in the moment, as poor tribesmen continued to resist and reject what rich and powerful Kings, Sultans, and Emperors readily embraced.
Once at the wall’s crenellated edge, the Unifier swept His gaze across Avalos. He could see the spires of the great Cathedral of Avalos far below, a place nearing completion after many long years of construction. Being constructed with the latest techniques of architecture in the western lands, with towering spires, flying buttresses, and intricate vaults, it would bring a stream of visitors into the city. Though it appeared tiny from His vantage point, the huge edifice served as the most elite church in all of Avanor, the seat of the powerful Archbishop Regnier himself.
The thought of the Cathedral never ceased to amuse the Unifier, especially how it looked so small and insignificant before His towering, mighty citadel. The Cathedral was where many of the wealthiest nobles believed that they offered worship to the Accursed One. While their utterances may have been addressed to the God of the Western Church, an irritant enough, the Unifier was consoled by the reality that their hearts and deeds had long ago fallen to the service of Another.
Other nobles and authorities made their appearances within the Cathedral, but unlike the other nobles, they knew very well to Whom they belonged. The greatest of these was the Archbishop Regnier himself, who was not alone among the bishops and abbots who had been turned to Another’s service. Except for the aging Vicar of the Western Church, Celestine IX, and a handful of recalcitrant fools clinging to the old, fading order, the Unifier now held a grip upon a majority of the influential high clergy.
The nobles and ecclesiastical powers of Avalos were just the surface of a broader transformation of loyalties occurring swiftly within many lands and kingdoms.
A large majority of the most formidable and learned that humankind had to offer had readily chosen allegiance to Him, and by extension the One that the Unifier served. A number of them constituted many of the very individuals that ruled sprawling kingdoms and expansive empires.
The Unifier had not needed to engage in arguments with many of the Kings and Emperors, much less coerce them. For the most part, away from the eyes of the slumbering masses, they had come to submit swiftly, and enthusiastically.
That the men of power and wealth could so willingly bring their rich and strong lands into His service, and that a smaller rabble of wood-dwelling primitives could so vehemently continue to oppose Him, raised His ire and indignation to a white-hot level. That they had exposed a foolish commander in His own ranks, and likely caused severe damage to the Unifier’s relations with the valuable Trogen clans, was just one more reason why the Unifier hungered ravenously for immediate vengeance.
It was no time for coercion or even subjugation. It was time for absolute destruction.
Annihilation was the only recourse that would quench the fires burning within the Unifier. The Five Realms had to be cast into a hurricane of retribution, one so powerful that they would not emerge to see any future, even one in willful submission to the Unifier.
Whether they surrendered and bowed to Him or not was no longer of any concern whatsoever. Furthermore, the extinction of the five tribes would be an unforgettable lesson to any who remotely harbored any thoughts of resistance.
The thought brought a brief surge of fiery red into His eyes, as He turned away from the sight of Avalos and slowly strode back down the steps into the bailey. When He reached the messenger, who had not moved at all in the interim, His eyes had returned back to their fathomless blue once again. “See to it that the Darroks are immediately outfitted by our craftsmen with new carriages, ones that cannot be so easily threatened by two tribesman with axes,” the Unifier stated bluntly.
“Send word to Viscount Adhemar that the Trogens must be given more authority in matters involving their own kind. I do not think that they will neglect to have Harrak-mounted warriors riding in the carriages. That will answer the presence of any defenders that the failed scouts overlooked,” the Unifier commanded in a forceful tone. A slight hint of a grin played about the Unifier’s face. “And tell the Viscount that he is then to report directly to Me, in person, and without delay.”
The Unifier grew quiet for a moment as He sifted through a few options in His mind. He settled upon a quite intriguing one.
“We will now see if the eastern Galleans can adhere to My desires better than a viscount from Avanor,” the Unifier said, articulating the words slow and purposefully. “See that the full authority of command is given over to Count Garnier IV. We will see if commands rendered in the articulations of the Langeoc will be more understandable than those given through the Langeal.”
His last words referred to the two versions of the Gallean tongue, the former spoken in the eastern provinces of Gallea, and the latter spoken in the western ones, including Avanor itself. The great Count of Talasae, Garnier IV, was one of those who spoke the eastern version, and he ruled the Gallean lands adjacent to the Five Realms. Talasae was a bountiful province, containing the powerful walled cities of Carcasse and Talasae. It was also home to some heretical religious movements that had deeply aggrieved the Western Church, as well as being a core of the region that had given rise to a newer tradition of epic poets. As if that was not enough, the area had helped give birth to a code of knightly behavior that had been closely embraced by great numbers of the elite warriors of Gallea. Count Garnier would now have a chance to become a subject of one of those epic poems.