67. Wise Counsel

67. Wise Counsel

The Iyrmen returned into the forest, where the Chief and Elder Peace listened to the tale from the tortured Iyrmen. Somehow, even after their torture, they could speak with clarity about the situation.

“On our return, we were caught by the soldiers, and were kept in a ditch,” Okvar admitted. “We did not want to cause a diplomatic incident.”

“Did any of you break during the torture?” the Chief asked. “What had you told them?”

“The Iyr has claimed the forest,” Okvar said. “All matters relating to the forest will be discussed by the Chief.”

The other Iyrmen nodded their heads, agreeing with the statement.

“They tried to ask about specifics within the forest, but we replied the same,” Okvar said.

“What was the extent of their torture?”

“Beatings, starvation, but not much else,” Okvar said, casually.

Adam blinked at him. He couldn’t believe just how light the Iyrman’s tone was.

“Some of the soldiers asked for more, but the Captain kept the beatings reasonable,” Lokat said. “Some had lost family members in the war over the islands.”

“Even so,” the Chief said, “harming a Shaman isn’t reasonable. We should have killed more.”

“We leave their Priests be,” Elder Peace said. “I have sent a message to their Shen, and depending on their response, I will set forth new rules in dealing with the Aswadians.”

The Chief nodded his head, leaving it be, as it was not within his domain. Of course, he could debate the matter with Elder Peace, but there was no need to. It was rare he would give his opinion on a matter, a right afforded to him.

“Are you okay?” Adam asked his Iyrmen companions who had been missing.

“We’re okay,” Dargon replied, eating some fruit provided by the forest. “Being captured and tortured is to be expected.

Adam blinked again, unsure of just how to take what he had just learnt. “I’ll tell you this right now, if I was captured and tortured, I’d let slip whatever they wanted to hear. It wouldn’t necessarily be true, but I’d want to them to stop.”

The Iyrmen nodded their heads, understanding where he was coming from. After all, Adam was no Iyrman.

“I’m glad to see you’re well though,” Adam said, sighing. “To think you were right beside us this entire time...” He narrowed his eyes, annoyed that he was so weak.

“We should speak with the Duke,” the Chief said, excusing himself.

“I know that it’s important to deal with the forest, but will we be returning back to the Iyr soon?” Adam asked. “My aunt is still sick.”

“We will form a party to return with you in the morning,” the Chief said.

“Thank you.”

The Chief and Elder Peace left to speak with the Duke, taking with them many of the Iyrmen, including Jurot, Okvar, and Lokat.

“I should have been the one to escort Adam,” Argon said, grabbing onto his brother’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to hear that from you!” Dargon grumbled. “Your dear little brother was busy being tortured and you were having fun sparring with King’s Sword.”

“That’s why I said you should have gone!” Argon shook his brother by his shoulders.

The pair continued to fight brotherly for some time before Tazwyn dragged Argon away. “Have you forgotten he was starved? Stop bullying your little brother.”

Dargon chuckled once his brother had left. “Do you see how he shows off? He got to have fun with King’s Sword, then tried to speak about his virtues!”

Adam smiled slightly in response. “That’s just how big brothers are.”

“You speak as though you are a younger brother.”

“No,” Adam said. “I was the oldest.”

“How many siblings did you have?”

“I had a younger brother and sister, though, I also had a baby sister I never got to meet.”

“Imprison Iyrmen?” The Shen said, annunciating each word as though it pained him. He turned to Kalya, who was a beautiful woman, and equally as intelligent as she was beautiful, or so he had thought. “We imprisoned their warriors, eight of them, and they slaughtered three hundred of our soldiers. Three hundred. One of them was a Shaman, which we, for some reason, tortured. They have their Chief, one of their greatest warriors, equivalent to their King in their culture, and Elder Peace, who is responsible for declaring war, who saw what we had done.”

“If we capture their Chief and Elder Peace, it would be a bargaining chip to use against them,” General Halwe replied. “That forest is too valuable to give up, my Shen. We cannot allow it to slip through our fingers to the hands of Aldland. It is too close to our land, and will make future wars more difficult.”

The Shen couldn’t believe what he was hearing from the Counsel members, or the General. ‘I truly must be dreaming,’ he thought.

“I have heard their tales, father,” a young woman said from beside the Shen. None dared to reprimand her for speaking, as they all knew how much the Shen doted on his daughter. “There have been a number of times that our family was threatened within our Kingdom, and all but one was solved by the Iyrmen.”

“I recall the tales as well, daughter,” the Shen replied. “The only crises not solved by the Iyrmen was the singular crisis against them.”

“It was only because of the Gladiator King that they were unable to dethrone us,” the young woman said, tapping her finger on the table. “The war ended in a draw, but it was the closest we had gotten to losing our Kingdom to Aldland.”

“We’ve beaten the Iyrmen before, we can beat them again,” General Halwe said.

“We beat them because they were busy in two other wars,” the Shen said, almost losing his patience. “It wasn’t the Iyr we were facing, but a unit of Iyrmen under Aldland’s command.”

“They have only sent a hundred Iyrmen to the forest, and we have Veisswing and his sister, Princess of the Red Desert, who could be upon them in a day.”

The Shen rubbed his forehead, willing to entertain them. “How many soldiers can we call?”

“At least thirty thousand,” General Halwe replied. “We have sent ten thousand to the islands, so we cannot bring more to the north. We could drive up another one hundred thousand soldiers, though they would be fresh.”

“Lambs to the slaughter,” the Shen replied.

“There are at least six wyrms which would respond as well,” Kalya said, who had some relationship with a seawyrm.

“Wyrms?” Shen Hussun rubbed his forehead. “Wyrms? What are wyrms going to do against the Iyrmen? How many have they collectively killed in the past century? They are born and raised to slay wyrms, and not just wyrms, but all great creatures.” He stared between them all.

The others remained silent as the Shen stared at them. They were surprised to see how overtly hostile he was to their suggestions.

“Let’s say we go to war with the Iyr, and say we do win. We would lose what? A dozen villages? A handful of towns and cities. We would lose the wyrms, certainly, and then who would keep those others in check? Would even a single soldier be able to step through Southern Aldland towards their home?” He glanced between them. “What do we get in return?” He stood up, bracing himself against the table as he leaned over it.

The other nobles remained silent, not daring to look away from him.

“If you did not speak, I would not confuse you for fools,” the Shen said. “If you wish to war with the Iyr, you are free to do so, but I will not offer them my head so easily.”

“My Shen!” The General stood, bowing his head deeply. “Will we really kowtow before them? They are no longer the monsters of the past! Our people have grown strong under the care of your family. They cannot dare to think about trying to fight with us!”

“You are free to offer your head to them, Halwe, but I will not. They have come with an offer of peace, and have already punished the disobedient Captain. We were to blame, it is very clear. I have read the letter, and you have heard it, or will you tell me your ears are cut off? They brought a hundred warriors. A hundred warriors! We outnumbered them twenty to one, and they slaughtered three hundred of our soldiers. These weren’t fresh recruits, but those who had been in the army for years.”

“The Iyrmen cannot match our elite units, my Shen!” General Halwe urged, taking great pride in his warriors. “We have one hundred Black Hands, each equal to Mithril Rank! There is the East Scimitar and the West Scimitar, who are equal to King’s Sword to the north.”

“Dealing with their own matters,” Shen replied, simply. “What are our Black Hands against the Iyrmen they rummaged from their home? Do you think these Iyrmen are the best of the best? Even now, as we speak, there are two Gold Rank Iyrmen within a thirty minutes walk from this very room! How many Gold Rank Iyrmen slumber within our cities? Ten? Twenty? What of all those who are Mithril Rank? At least another twenty! This doesn’t include those who return back to the Iyr, to speak of the outside world! To train the next generation!”

“It’s impossible for there to be too many more Iyrmen at that level, my Shen. We still outnumber them ten to one.”

“Are you a damn fool? Do you think we are the only ones with agreements with the wyrms? Have you forgotten the last time the Iyr went to war with Aldland? Have you forgotten how many Rukhs flew over our skies? Have you forgotten how the Iyr brought three wyrms with them? Think about all the wyrms who once plagued our lands and left. They were driven away by Iyrmen, and they dare not return. Yet, do you think Iyrmen would allow wyrms to leave peacefully without a deal made?”

“My Shen, I beg of you! Just a chance to prove ourselves! They would not run from a duel.”

The Shen dropped to his seat, rubbing his forehead. “Very well,” he said, wishing to show them the futility of their thoughts. “We will invite them to our coliseum. General Halwe, you will be responsible for finding ten warriors which the Iyrmen will face. If your warriors can win three times our of ten, I will award your family with three castles, a town, and the title of Shen’s Hand.”

“Thank you, my Shen,” General Halwe said, full of awe, prostrating himself before the Shen.

“Go, write it,” Hussun said to one of his many aides, before he grabbed his own paper and quill.

“My Shen?” General Halwe asked as Shen Hussun began to write a letter.

“We will send them the Bronze Midnight Spear as an apology,” the Shen said, already knowing the aftermath of the deal which would be sent to the Iyrmen. “They say they have claimed the forest? We will supply them whatever sandstone they require without the typical taxes involved, and we will not charge gate fees to any Iyrmen for the next decade.”

The other Counsel members stared at the Shen, confused.

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"My right fist is known as Diplo, and my left is known as Macy," Elder Peace said.