Airlean Tales S2E9: The Kennels

The kennels were a dingy sector of winding underground chambers that sprawled beneath Mythaven’s cobbled roads, not unlike a network of catacombs. The only exception was the main arena, in which tiered rows of benches surrounded a circular pit. It was the kennels’ main attraction and affectionately dubbed the Madhouse.

Currently, the arena was a madhouse indeed. Karis drifted through the raucous crowd, many of whom were waving ticket stubs in thick fingers or slapping gold and silver pieces on flat tables. At the center of the pit brawled two men, fists lashing out in quick, heavy blows. 

It only took a moment for Karis to recognize Halcyon Yuden as one of the fighters. He was dressed down to trousers cropped at his calves, hands wrapped with bandages and dusted with chalk. A sheen of sweat and stage oil glistened across his bronze skin, highlighting planes of well-built muscle that were sure to win the crowd. 

Karis didn’t let her gaze linger for too long. The organizers of the kennels knew how to sell a fighter, and she would not be one to fall for their trap.

One of the spectators paused as she drifted by, squinting at her shrouded face. She distracted him quickly by slicing his purse strings with a deft line of sugar-thread. She heard a muffled curse as he dropped to the ground, scrabbling for his scattered coins.

A sickening crunch echoed from the fighting ring, followed by the crowd’s low, pained ooh. Karis felt a jolt of uncharacteristic fear and briefly wondered if she would see Halcyon stretched across the ring, beaten and unconscious. He was one of the nation’s greatest soldiers, but his greatest asset lay in how he interwove powerful water mana through his blows. With manacraft banned in the kennels, she was not certain that he could best a bigger and stronger opponent.

Another thick, heavy sound of caving flesh. Another hiss from the crowd.

Asters, Hal. You fool. What kept drawing him to this brutal, repulsive place? Just the need to fight? At least Karis had hobbies that didn’t threaten her life.

She slipped away from the crowd and into the backroom, which was abandoned at this time. As it should have been; this was the final match, the climax of the event. No other fighters would be waiting. The room was sparsely furnished with only a single shelf and an uncomfortable wooden bench. Halcyon’s scant belongings—a black shirt and ragged cloak—were folded neatly on the shelf.

Karis seated herself on the bench and tucked her legs under her. There was nothing to do but wait.

She heard a horrible thud. A high, resonant bell. A sweeping cheer of an ecstatic crowd. Above the hubbub, Karis could barely make out the announcer’s cries, hoarse from excitement.

“And Orion, king of the kennels, keeps his throne!” 

The gathering knot of tension between Karis’s shoulders relaxed. So, he’d won. There had been no reason for concern.

She waited several minutes more for the commotion to die down as Halcyon was, no doubt, presented with his earnings and ushered from the ring. She heard his approaching footsteps and, for no particular reason, ran her fingers quickly through her hair.

“Congratulations,” she said as Halcyon stepped through the doorway. “On the win.”

His stride stopped for a moment—the only sign of his surprise. “Did you bet against me?” he said.

“I don’t gamble.”

“You gamble all the time. Just not in this avenue.”

Halcyon’s chiseled form moved in her periphery, and she quickly handed him a rag, keeping her eyes carefully trained on the blank stretch of wall, like a polite lady would. He accepted it and ran it over his shoulders, wiping the oil gloss away.

“What is it?” he said.

“The prince has summoned us.”

“Prince Sethis? That’s unusual.”

“We’re to present ourselves at the Hunter’s Guild at once. A madroom has been prepared for privacy.”

“He doesn’t trust the palace, then. That’s good.” Halcyon tossed the rag in a rusted bucket, then set to carefully unraveling the bandages from his hands.

“You should tell Nicolina about this,” Karis said, frowning. “She won’t like that you’re at the kennels.”

He shrugged unapologetically. “No better way to keep fresh for the next Storm.”

“Fighting humans is very different from fighting beasts, so I’m not convinced that—would you put on a shirt?”

He paused and glanced up. “Does it bother you?”

“It would bother anyone.”

“Around here, I think it only bothers you.”

She only grabbed his black shirt from the nearby shelf and flung it at him. He grunted, but obligingly pulled it over his head. Good. She wouldn’t dissolve into one of his pathetic fawners, but the sculpted gleam of his back under the light had been rather distracting. Not that she had been looking.

“You flirt with danger every time you enroll here,” she said tersely. “One of these days, some madman will slip a knife into your side when you least expect it.”

“That’s why I always expect it.” Halcyon finished rolling up the bandages and turned to face her squarely. “Karis, you know that it’s been dry.”

“And?”

“We have to fill the time in somehow until the next surge.”

“Be that as it may, don’t throw around your life so lightly.”

“Are you worried?”

Insufferable. Insufferable. Karis alotted just one pinch of concern in her voice, and like a bloodhound, Halcyon had seized it between his teeth and shaken it down. She drew herself to her feet and turned silently to the door, letting a chill descend between them.

“Hey,” Halcyon said quickly. “It’s not bad to be worried about someone.”

Karis drew her hood further over her face. “Yes,” she said. “It is.”

The crown prince was already waiting when they arrived at the Guild and slipped into one of the private rooms in the medical ward—rooms ordinarily reserved for the lethally contagious or insane. Madrooms, they were called. It was odd to see the prince in all his pressed and cleaned attire in the center of the bland, stifling room.

“Your Highness,” Karis said, nodding briefly at Sethis. She usually had reservations about the royal family, but the crown prince was an exception. She’d seen his dedication for herself as he’d fought doggedly on the frontlines, determined to protect Airlea. Whatever the past sins of his forefathers, Sethis’s heart was in the right place.

Sethis bowed quickly. “My apologies for the disruption. I’m sure that the two of you were occupied in greater endeavors.”

Not particularly. Karis had been bored, and given the establishments Halcyon was frequenting, he had been too. But it would be embarrassing to admit that when the crown prince clearly held them in high regard.

So she diplomatically waved a hand. “Think nothing of it. It’s our pleasure to be here.”

Sethis nodded gratefully and motioned for them to sit. The space was confined, so Karis seated herself on the sickbed, while Halcyon folded his arms and leaned against the wall like the stolid hero that everyone thought he was.

“You may recall the…information that the Atlantean envoy shared at the gala,” Sethis said tactfully.

“That’s certainly one way to put it,” Karis said. The entire city had been abuzz all week, tittering about Simon Kourios’s shocking declaration, hedging bets on the crown’s response—or lack thereof. And nearly everybody was rabidly curious of this mysterious Senator Vascea and what she was like. A gorgeous woman? A withdrawn and sickly one? Ugly beyond compare? Had the prince been blessed by the fates with a beautiful bride, or accursed?

Unlike the nobility, the common folk had nothing to lose with the arrangement, and thus were keen to chatter about it at every waking moment.

“It was a surprise, to be sure,” Karis continued dryly. She’d known that Simon had been up to something, but a birth arrangement of matrimony had surpassed even her considerable imagination. “Is it even true?”

Sethis rubbed at his temples. “True enough. Our archivists found the matrimonial pledge. Father simply…never saw fit to tell me.”

“The one getting married?”

“Well, yes.”

“An egregious oversight.”

The prince laughed, though it held a tinge of pain. “Quite.”

“Perhaps the pledge was doctored,” Karis said wildly. “Perhaps the Lord Envoy snuck into records in the middle of the night—”

“No, it definitely existed,” Halcyon interrupted. “Or at least Atlantis believes it to exist.”

“Oh? What tells you that?”

He blinked, then shrugged. “I’m…good at reading liars.”

“I am not good at reading liars, and even I can tell that you are lying, Hal.”

“I just don’t think they would spend half a fortune to traverse the seas on a whim,” Halcyon said evasively. “Nor would they force one of their senators into matrimony without good reason.”

“Those are the same conclusions I drew,” Sethis said. “Which is why, after discussing at further length with the envoy and several trusted associates, I have decided to lead a delegation to Atlantis.”

A brief silence dropped over the madroom.

“Pardon,” said Karis disbelievingly. “In person? To Atlantis?”

“Yes.”

“With the Storm crawling at our borders? With danger to strike any moment?”

“Precisely why we must seize this opportunity during a lull in the cycle,” Sethis said. “The Observatorium believes that we shall not see a surge for another eight months, and that is a conservative estimate.”

Eight months of sheer boredom! Stars above! Karis had never heard of such a gap—not since the Great Storm.

“There’s quite a few benefits to such a journey,” Sethis continued. “We can reestablish trade routes between our countries. We can forge connections and call upon a great ally in times of dire need.” A hint of color dusted his cheeks. “And…practically speaking, I should have found a wife years ago.”

He was calling himself old? Then Karis would also be an old maid, for his age was no greater than hers.

“Is leaving truly the best option?” she asked, frowning. “If you allow me to speak plainly—the discontent of the nobility is only growing. I fear the worst if you remove your presence, even for a short time.”

“I fear that the luxury of choice is no longer available to us,” Sethis said gravely. “Eight months is significant for Airlea, but little time to establish trust between foreign nations. The sooner we may be apprised of Atlantis’s situation, the better. Even the king has approved the voyage.”

“Asters forbid he keep you from a marriage he signed you into.” Karis shook her head. “Well, I trust you have considered every option and this is the most favorable of an unfortunate lot.”

“Thank you.” Sethis looked to Halcyon. “Do you have any concerns, Lord Yuden?”

Halcyon crooked a brow. “I’m not an advisor, Your Highness.”

“The Guildmaster believed that you would provide valuable insight. I should like to hear it.”

Halcyon paused, but when he finally spoke, there was no dip or hesitation in his words. “You’re betrothed to the Senator Vascea, Ensign of the Warmongers. Are you aware of the significance?”

“Only that she hails from one of the twelve original families who founded and ruled Atlantis. Unfortunately, much seems to be missing from our records.”

“Atlantis likes to keep it that way. The Warmongers are a hardy people, but as their name suggests, they’re prone to conflict…and unpopular with the other senators. Aligning ourselves with them would set everyone else against us.”

“Ah.” Sethis closed his eyes. “I suppose it was naive for me to hope that the Atlantean Senate would be free of the infighting that plagues and divides Airlea.”

“On paper, they’re supposed to work together to further the collective goals of the country. In practice, the senators fear each other. They build private armies and impose new laws to keep each other in check. It’s a different kind of battlefield.”

“How would you know all this?” Karis asked. Curiously, more than anything else, but the way Halcyon snapped up and clamped his jaw made her feel as if she’d just stepped on a nest of hornets.

“The taverns,” he said shortly. “Some of the regulars are immigrants. You hear a lot from them.”

“Grave news indeed,” Sethis mused. “At least it has been ten years. Perhaps in the wake of the Great Storm, the Senate has united, resolved many differences. Asters know we have.”

An odd look crossed Halcyon’s face, but just as quickly, it was washed away.

“I don’t doubt your judgment, Lord Yuden,” Sethis said quickly. “If anything, this further demonstrates the importance of visiting in person. It is difficult to gauge the status of another country from speculation, and…if we’ve the chance to make a valuable ally, then now is the time to take it.”

“And that is why you’ve summoned us?” Karis said. “You wish for us to join the delegation?”

“I asked Guildmaster Cotton to recommend three Hunters for the delegation. She put forth Fairwen, for the diplomatic experience. And…” He hesitated. “She also put forth the two of you because, ah, ‘Maybe it’d keep them out of trouble for once.’”

“Oh,” said Karis, a little sulkily. She wasn’t the one throwing herself into gambling taverns and fighting rings.

“But I believe that you would make for ideal delegates for completely different reasons,” Sethis said hurriedly. “Lady Caelute, you have a keen eye and a masterful handling of court politics. Lord Yuden, your strength in combat and an adaptable nature would ensure the security of the caravan.”

Well, he was certainly good with words. Karis was nearly mollified. Halcyon, on the other hand, seemed unmoved. A flat expression had been frozen on his face, giving no hint to what he was feeling.

“Naturally, you are not obligated to join the delegation,” Sethis said. “This is a request in the truest sense of the word. You are free to decline.”

“I’ve no reason to decline,” Karis said. “A new setting sounds rather diverting, and it would be an honor to serve on the delegation.” In truth, she could have skipped in giddiness. At last! Deliverance from the dreary monotony of a country where absolutely nothing was happening.

Sethis looked to Halcyon, who only seemed even more uncertain. 

“I’ll consider it,” was all the First Hunter said.

Karis was galled. After all that talk about recent times being dry, he would turn down a clear opportunity for excitement? She could hardly believe it.

Halcyon ignored her glare of betrayal and bowed to the prince. “I’ll make a decision by tomorrow.”

“Your consideration is appreciated,” Sethis said.

Halcyon appeared to take that as a dismissal. He slipped out of the room at once and made for the guildmaster’s study. Karis watched his retreating back, unable to ignore a slow, sinking feeling, like she was losing him. Which was ridiculous. So what if they would be apart for months upon months? The decision was his. It would not change the fact that she needed to leave Airlea.

Let him stay, she thought irritably. Let him stew here in the idleness, the hateful dormancy. I will certainly not miss him.

She would not. She could not. She must not. The last thing she would allow to tame her sting was another loss.

Several days ago, under cover of night, two princes and a queen’s niece gathered in the refuge of Sethis’s bedchambers, appearing not dissimilar to crows congregating in an alley. Maps, books, and other signs of frantic research were scattered around the once-pristine room, open pages spilling dossiers of Atlantis’s location, culture, magitech, industries.

Lilian Forsythe, sister-daughter of the late queen Esther Forsythe, dropped a tidy sheet of paper that Sethis had given to her, disgust etched clearly over her face.

“No,” she said, her voice a low hiss. “Absolutely not.”

“Lilian—”

“I refuse to be left behind, sitting on my hands, again. The Royal Guard is supposed to protect royalty, Seth! What use have I seen being shut up in the palace? You will bring me along, even if it kills you.”

“The Royal Guard is not supposed to protect royalty,” Sethis said. “They protect the king, and only the king. Their allegiances cannot lie anywhere else. It’s been this way since Lord Benwick attempted to unseat King Arthus and split the Round Table. You know this.”

“I didn’t become a royal guard to be your father’s nanny! I became a royal guard because you and Micah needed someone with a good head on their shoulders in this starsforsaken place. And that head is telling you, Seth, that you cannot waltz into a foreign territory, alone and unguarded.”

“What makes you think I’ll be unguarded?”

She relaxed slightly, placated. “Alright, who are you bringing?”

“I have yet to put in the request, but my initial inclination is for the first two Hunters. Halcyon Yuden and Karis Caelute. They are no doubt stymied by the lack of activity and would welcome the change of pace.”

Lilian released a disgruntled noise. “Caelute.”

“Is there a problem?”

“I’ve heard of Caelute from the Knight’s Academy. She’s sooner to protect her precious score than your life.”

That surprised Sethis for a moment. He didn’t consider himself particularly close with Karis, but in their brief interactions, she seemed to be driven, passionate, and selfless to a fault. If anything, she gave too much of herself away for the sake of others.

“How do you mean?” he asked.

“She would hold auditions to form her teams for mock battles, relays, even something as inane as presentations! Auditions, Seth! As if she was above everybody else. And Asters forbid you get sick. ‘Either you will overcome, or you will leave the team,’ Caelute would say. ‘There is no room for frailty.’” Lilian snorted. “We didn’t even go the Academy in the same year and I still heard of her.”

Goodness, that was certainly a severe reputation. For a moment, Sethis found it difficult to reconcile with the heroic and compassionate woman he knew. But no, she had always held exceedingly high standards; perhaps time had simply taught her the fitting areas to apply them.

“That may have been true in the past,” he said. “But many years have passed since then. The woman I know now is a true credit to the Hunters. I would trust her with my life.”

Lilian only said, “Ugh. Caelute.”

Micah seized the opportunity to speak. “At least there is still Halcyon Yuden,” he said. “Although you may wish to mind that every asset you take to Atlantis, brother dear, you take from Airlea. Who else are you considering for the delegation?”

Sethis leaned forward. Here it was—the crux of his plan.

“I would like to take this opportunity to make strides toward unifying Airlea’s most powerful parties,” he said. “I’ve dispatched invitations towards the scions of several notable houses. House Irlisse, House Quintrell, House Sylvester, House Geppett—”

Lilian’s face pinched and went pale at the same time. “Lord Geppett! A noble who despises the crown? The most influential aristocrat? The one most motivated to kill you?”

“His son,” Sethis corrected lightly. “He will inherit the influence of his father, but he seems to bear a sharp mind and a good heart.”

Lilian pressed her face in her hands. “You’d see the best in a dung beetle, Seth.”

Sethis smiled. “Dung beetles? I imagine they contribute to the nourishment of the earth.”

“Asters.” She raked a hand through her hair, pulling strands out of her ponytail. “You will die out there. We’ll find you at the bottom of the ocean with a knife in your spine, and one of your allies will be the one who put it there. You would lose your life in your quest for unity.”

“Cousin, you think me too kind,” Sethis said wryly. “My motive can hardly be accredited to charity.”

“Oh?”

“Consider this: Sage Malfis Rodham was moved to act because he believed he could depose the current king, then instate me.”

“Yes.”

“But what if I am not in Airlea? What then?”

Lilian’s brow twitched. “He would simply find another to ascend the throne. You are not the cause of the rising insurgency, Seth.”

“And who specifically would he find to ascend the throne?” Sethis asked, unfazed.

“What does it matter? Someone with great influence over the people. One of the high houses, perhaps. Asters forbid Jannes Quintrell, loudmouth as he is. Or a more insidious pick like Lord Roland Geppett, a man with a powerful presence, significant holdings…” She tilted her head, watching him carefully. “And you invited his heir to the delegation.”

Sethis nodded mutely.

“Inviting all these nobles. It’s not for your faraway dream of peace and harmony, but—but for you to take all the scions hostage?”

Micah clapped his hands together. “Fascinating. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Sethis shook his head. “I intend for none of that. I simply think that the greater houses will be reluctant to move knowing that their scions are under my purview.”

“That is the role of a hostage,” Micah said. 

“I approve,” said Lilian. “I only wonder if the nobility will take the bait. Especially the houses already planning on causing trouble.”

“Oh, but that is part of the dance,” Sethis said. “To make direct connections with Atlantis from the crown prince’s own delegation is an advantage that few would wish to give up. Those who pass on the opportunity are more likely to be planning some order of trouble.”

A spark lit in her eye. “And the nobles would know that as well.”

“Thus, they know that I know that if they should refrain from the expedition, it will reflect poorly on them—and make them subject to scrutiny.”

Now Lilian clapped her hands. “The ego of the aristocracy, weaponized against them. Well done, Seth.”

He smiled wryly. “I hope it never comes to that. I would largely prefer a peaceful expedition, and a peaceful home to which to return.”

“But you have done all you can, and more, should things take a turn for the worse.” She sighed. “I only wish I could go with you.”

“I need you and Micah here.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, ignoring how she scowled at him. “There is no one I trust more, and the kingdom still needs protection.”

“From the sounds of it, the danger will be where you are.”

“There is danger everywhere.” He stood, his gaze distant as he turned to the window. “All we can do now is rise to meet it.”

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