66. Deals Brokered

66. Deals Brokered

The five of them, Lucy, Adam, Jurot, and the two leader of the Iyr, sat down to speak. Jurot explained a few things in their tongue first, before then speaking in Aldspeech. Adam just nodded along to the story, confirming everything. The entire time, Lucy was cuddling up beside Elder Peace.

Then, once the story was told, the Guardian appeared, much to the Iyrmen’s delight.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Big Ivory said.

“You as well,” the Chief replied. “First, we will need to deal with the Aswadians and the Aldish, before we can speak of the deal.”

“It is understandable,” they replied in their slow voice.

“Jurot,” Adam said, looking out to the Iyrmen. “Just how strong is this group?”

“Strong,” Jurot replied, simply.

“Very!” Lucy agreed. She had her eye on twelve of them in particular, each of them the oldest. “No wonder the Iyrmen are so powerful with those twelve leading.”

“The ten only lead this company,” Jurot replied. “Chief Iromin and Elder Peace lead within the Iyr.”

“Why did they bring the strongest Iyrmen?” Lucy asked. “Wouldn’t it be better to bring hundreds to deal with the others?”

“They didn’t,” Jurot replied.

“They didn’t what?” Lucy asked.

“They didn’t bring the strongest,” Jurot said. “The other ten are part of the strongest, but there are others within the Iyr who match them. They were not brought along.”

Lucy blinked at him, and then turned to Adam, who was slowly nodding his head. “What?”

Adam realised just how few faces he recognised from the hundred Iyrmen. “So, how strong are they? Are the other ten Mithril Rank?”

Jurot remained tight lipped.

“No,” the Chief said. “They are Gold Rank.”

Adam swallowed. “Right,” he said, staring at the Chief. “So are the others Mithril Rank?”

“There are a few Steel Rank and Silver Rank here, but there are ninety Mithril Rank, and ten Gold Rank.”

“How many Gold Rank Iyrmen are there within the Iyr?” Adam asked.

“Enough that you may sleep peacefully within its borders,” the Chief replied.

“Even I do not know,” Jurot said. “The only beings who know the true strength of the Iyr are the Chief, the Great Elders, and a handful of others. Not even Gold Ranks know, if they refuse to know.”

Lucy remained completely silent, growing pale.

“You are the Demon Lord?” the Chief asked.

“Yes,” she squeaked.

“From another world?”

“Yes.”

Adam cleared his throat. “She is a friend of ours.”

“That’s right, these two are my Generals!” Lucy quickly stepped beside Adam and hooked her arm around his.

“I am not your General,” Jurot stated, clearly.

“What? You totally are!”

“I am Jurot, son of Surot!” Jurot declared. “I am not your General.”

“We’re not your Generals, but your friends,” Adam said.

“Friends?” Lucy had thought he was kidding previously. She flushed slightly. “Hmph. I don’t need friends, especially not a human!”

“Well, I guess we’re not your frie-“

“If you’re going to insist, I suppose I’ll allow you both to be my friends!” Lucy grabbed his arm tighter.

"Thank you so much for the opportunity, your Grace,” Adam said, ruffling her hair.

“You are most welcome.”

“We should speak with the Aswadians,” the Chief said, glancing to Elder Peace, who bowed her head.

The Iyrmen all moved, with Lucy remaining behind with Mara.

“Will you guarantee Lucy’s protection within the forest?” Adam asked as they left. “Okvar had done so.”

“If Okvar has guaranteed it, then it is guaranteed by we all,” the Chief replied.

It felt like an eternity as the other Iyrmen were brought back. They were battered and bruised, and many noticed that the captives had lost a fair amount of weight.

Argon grit his teeth as he saw his brother return in such a state, though Dargon threw a cheeky smirk at his brother.

The other Iyrmen remained calm at the sight of their wounded brethren, who understood the risks when it came to coming here during such a turbulent time.

It was then they saw Lokat.

Elder Peace let out another soft sigh. The Iyrmen tensed up, understanding the situation. Lokat approached Elder Peace, muttering something in their tongue. Elder Peave reached up and rubbed the woman’s cheek gently.

Adam noted the familiar symbol on Lokat’s forehead.

A purple tilted cross, with hollowed hexes at the side.

“Oh, fuck,” Adam let the words slip out, covering his mouth immediately after.

The Captain, and all the other soldiers, noted the tattoos on their foreheads, and how they matched. ‘Oh, fuck.’

“Then is it war?” the Chief asked, reaching for the blade at his side, which was so eager to cut through the soldiers ahead of them.

“There is no need for war,” the Captain said, quickly, feeling his throat grow dry. “We-“

“I wasn’t asking you,” the Chief replied, his eyes falling to Elder Peace.

“The price must be paid,” she said, simply. “Three hundred of your soldiers.”

The Captain swallowed again, his heart beginning to pound, feeling the coolness, even though the sun was so bright as it beat down on them.

“Do you understand why the price of blood tripled?” Elder Peace asked, simply.

“We tortured your Iyrmen, and one of your family members?”

“You tortured our Iyrmen, so the price was doubled.” Elder Peace rubbed Lokat’s cheek again. “One of them was a Shaman.”

The Iyrmen reached for their weapons, ready to spill blood.

“It is not because she is my daughter, that I have demanded a greater price, but because she is a Shaman of the Iyr. You should not lay your hands on a Shaman of the Iyr, for they are precious to us.”

The Captain stared at Elder Peace for a long while. His brows was full of sweat, which poured down over his eyes. “Three hundred against your one hundred and war will be avoided?”

“Yes,” Elder Peace said. “Then we will settle the matter of the forest.”

The Captain bowed his head. “It will be done.” He glanced to his side, to the woman who had brought back the Iyrmen. “Amina,” he said, taking off the purple band on his arm, handing it to the woman. “You will take command upon my death.”

The soldier bowed her head, taking the band. “Yes, Captain.” ‘Captain! Why are you leaving me to deal with this mess? Don’t die!’

“Do not make the same mistake as me. Once this is over, return to the Shen, and inform him of everything.” He grabbed her arm, squeezing it. “Everything.”

“You should pass on a message from us as well,” Elder Peace said. “So that all misunderstanding may be resolved.”

Amina swallowed.

The Captain brought out the three hundred soldiers, which included himself, for he was the Captain who led them to their deaths. None of the three hundred soldiers were those descended from Iyrmen, as they had stepped back from the fight. The Iyr had their rules, and even the children born outside understood it, even if they were not tattooed.

Adam had never imaged he’d see three hundred soldiers, each heavily armoured, with weapons made of great steel, trained for years to be killing machines, be simply slaughtered like chattel. He couldn’t even feel his heart beat.

It hadn’t taken a minute, but the entire area was paved red with rivers of blood. The soldiers watched as almost a quarter of them were gone in the blink of an eye. None of them dared to step forward.

Jurot, on the other hand, was gleaming with joy as he stared at the blood bath. ‘Yes! Hahaha!’

Once the matter was dealt with, Elder Peace brought out a piece of paper, and dipped her quill in the dead Captain’s blood. She wrote a message, handing it over to Amina immediately after.

The Iyrmen looted the bodied right in front of the soldiers. Some soldiers had stepped forward, but Amina shouted something in their own language, which some of the Iyrmen understood.

“If anyone steps forward to disrupt the Iyrmen, you have my blessing to kill the stupid bastards!”

“The Iyr has claimed this forest,” Chief Iromin said, once they were done looting. “Tell your Shen, if he wishes to take it, he may do so, but the price is the blood of one hundred thousand soldiers.”

Amina’s eyes fell across the Iyrmen, who were still in high spirits. None were even remotely injured, but she had expected as such. Pretty much everyone here recognised a handful of the Iyrmen, each Gold Rank or Mithril Rank, and the tales which they were associated with.

Amina retreated with her army immediately, forfeiting the forest. ‘Captain, I told you not to mess with the Iyrmen.’

The Iyrmen approached the forest, where they found Lucy, who had followed them out, hugging a tree. She was as pale as a ghost, sweating profusely. Her eyes caught Adam’s.

“Are you alright?” he asked, stepping up to her.

Lucy did not respond, instead grabbing Adam’s arms with a vice like grip, standing behing him, hiding away from the other Iyrmen.

‘Mother. Father. The Iyrmen are scary!’

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I feel like there's going to be some diplomatic ramifications for just killing hundreds of soldiers right within their borders...