BBook 2: Chapter 38: Domain III.

Name:One Moo'r Plow Author:
BBook 2: Chapter 38: Domain III.

Cold and heavy was the realization that struck me as I gazed down at the alien form that had been Tash. The thought chilled me, but I was not foolish enough to deny it. Enemies were within my home. Inside my walls, among those I trusted. Their faces hidden from the light, they watched and plotted against me, even though I called them friend. This was only the first. Were I in the shoes of those who wished me harm, I would send more than a lone spy.

Bellows to heave the gates closed and seal them tight were obeyed far too slowly. Quick, but not fast enough to satisfy me. Shock had given way to anger as I faced the reality that people I trusted, friends even, existed here to do me harm.

And I did not know who.

Despite my best efforts, in spite of being warned not to trust, I had done so. And now the lash had come back around to strike me.

One person saw through the facade, and gazed past the lie that had been Tashs form; Valencia.

Pieces fell back together now that the illusion was shattered. He, or it, had hidden from the dwarves. Told me it was because he was a drow. That was another lie. I remembered the pain afterward when I had confronted him about it. Always absent when Velton had been around.

It made sense now.

Are there more? I asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

The dreadknight looked at me from where she squatted over the slim, grey form.

Yes. Eliths Eyes are never alone.

Part of me had suspected something was wrong with Tash, but never that he was an agent of the monarch. It made so much sense. She worked to undermine Ironmoor, and I was a tool she could grasp to do so.

Tie him. I gestured to a worker who hurried over.

Gag the mouth. Valencia stood and ignored the dust on her clothes. Hell try to speak, of course. All lies.

With that she cracked her knuckles and began to walk away. Off towards the fields where the most workers milled about, confused.

To find the others. Was her reply when asked where was headed. I glanced between the unconscious grey form being bound and the dreadknight, and decided to follow her malicious path.

Ishila intercepted us, and I felt my heart skip a beat. Was she one as well? Did it go that deep?

By the mercy of the Gods Above, my paranoia proved unwarranted as Valencia did not react. Tensions, thick as they were, did not stop the half-orc from sprinting off to make sure the prisoner stayed bound.

How can you see them? I demanded. There were Skills and Classes that specialized in deception, I was sure. Yet hers did not seem one of them. The opposite, even. My question answered itself.

A devils sight pierces all mortal lies. Came the reply, preceded by the sharpest smile I had yet witnessed. They deal in truths an only those. It is not only the Gods Above whose words are absolutes.

More things about this woman to unnerve me. But for now, in this short time, her talents were aimed at my enemies.

This is far from the first time I have done this. She smiled with glee. There entered a note of emancipation into her voice now. I still savor it. Let the rats scurry. Their thrashings amuse me.

There was little room for pity in my heart as I stalked towards someone who I suspected. Sean stood with his arms crossed, worry mixed with emancipation in his scent. The human had joined at the same time as Tash, and quickly took an important position ensuring my security.

A sound choice to compromise if the goal was to undermine me. Him, I was not so attached to. It made this all easier that I did not know many of their names. Insofar the man had kept his distance and collected his pay, little else.

Zheli was who I sought now. She was the only one that had had access to my lodge, if only to take ingredients from where they were stored before all that had been moved to its own space. Yet in that short time, she had seen more of what I possessed than most of the farmhands. Information that could be used against me. She too looked worried as we approached. Worry that did not fade as Valencia waved her off.

Valencia was quicker. The dreadknight crashed into the fleeing form like a meteor, a dark feline come to snatch its prey. She dragged the limp body back over the wall with her, a predator satisfied with its catch.

The pasture crew held none. That we found, anyhow.

And now, we waited. The choice had been made not to go and pursue any potential ones among the outside crews. Instead, we waited for them to return for the day.

Nothing to give away that I was on to them.

Youve done this before. A statement, not a question.

Indeed. Valencia nodded, a malicious smile upon her lips. One of the reasons the baron finds my employment so lucrative.

And a reason he has kept your absence quiet, no doubt.

Elith wont be sending any more to Castle Ironmoor. Valencia dismissed my musings. Lost too many of them already. Was a hard lesson to teach her, but the girl learned.

This brought me to the question I wished to pose.

What are they? Really?

Spies, first and foremost. In the employ of Queen Elith. Shapeshifters and mental manipulators. Beings she sends to implant themselves into the ranks of her enemies. The knife that would slide between your ribs if you stepped out of line. Sabotuers that work to undermine regions and alliances the queen if unfond of. Assassins. Brokers of information. Menial spies that monitor people of interest. Anythign she wants them to be, really.

And their name?

They do not possess one. Their race is an artificial creation. A small technicality, to not be born of the Gods Above, to never have been named by them. They call themselves the Grey Men, but that name means little. It holds no power. And this absence is why they fear devils and demons.

You trade in Names.

They, not me, minotaur. Remember that. Her tone took an unusual sharpness here. But yes. It is the absence of a Name that gives them away. Lets my eyes pierce the lie. Irnomoor still lives today because of this.

The queen tried to kill him?

Many, many times. She learned, eventually. He wrote her a letter, after the tenth or so attempted assassination. Explained that she could send as many men as she liked, but none that she wanted back.

All this dealing in death and games of power that happened outside my home, just off my doorstep, and I had remained willfully ignorant to it all. Thought that if I kept my nose out of politics, it would leave me alone. That had been disproven, again and again. Danger did not wait for me to be ready, it simply came.

Time ticked by ever so slowly as I sat, uncomfortable in Valencias presence. Evening came, and slowly, the workers trickled in. They too were blindsided by the dreadknight, but her gaze found no more amongst those I employed. And soon, the gates shut behind the last batch and evening fell.

What do you intend to do with them? Ishila asked as she too drew near. Them being the three Grey Men we had tied together.

I did not know, truth be told. They were enemies of mine, now. Spies sent to observe and undermine me. They had looked like friends, if only for a little while. Yet that did not grant them mercy.

I pondered their fates then, and decided that I was not enough a barbarian to have them hanged from the trees. Let their lives be of some use, at least.

Get the cart. I ordered her. Were taking them to Castle Ironmoor.