Blackjack Wayward - By Ben Bequer Page 0,43

none of them have your heart, my friend. None have the experience of slaying the Mist Army. Besides, I have seen you in battle. I could think of no one better for the bloodshed and madness of the front line.”

I chuckled, wondering if that was a complement or an insult.

“The warlords have not seen you and they complicate things with politics, and with currying to the goddess for her favor in the case that we win.”

“So what? I snap one of these warlord’s heads off and then they’ll fall in line?”

Drovani laughed, and soon his men joined him.

“That is why I have chosen you,” he said. “But no, we must be cautious with these men. They are important to the cause. Each of these warlords leads a ship like this, with many thousands of warriors. Warriors we will need for victory. We must convince them to join the cause of the goddess, without ‘snapping heads off’. Do you understand?”

I nodded as we walked into a small, low-lit chamber. About a dozen heavily armored Vershani sat in a semi-circle around the goddess, each man with two retainers sitting behind them. My attention was instantly drawn to her, and her eyes were on me like those of a hawk as it struck its prey. The men stood as we arrived, and I noticed no one but Drovani had weapons in the council. Drovani’s men left us as we entered, so we walked alone to the center of the room, standing before the goddess.

Drovani bowed, motioning for me to follow, and I took a knee, but my eyes were never off the woman whose alluring face had drawn me from the pirate ship and into this madness.

She stood, her tall frame draped with elaborate ceremonial robes that concealed her figure. Her long, black hair was crested back by a brass, gemmed circlet, but otherwise she had no jewelry. She needed nothing else to adorn her natural beauty.

“Aryani,” I mouthed, remembering her name, and she smiled, somehow reading my lips.

She spoke and Drovani stood. I was about to stand, but he shook his head as she continued speaking to the assembled group. Finally, he responded and turned to me.

“I will now cast a spell to allow you to understand our tongue,” he said. “Do not be afraid,” he added before bringing his hands together near his torso, almost touching his belly, and chanting in a strange whispery language, different to the normal Vershani I was becoming accustomed to. He spread his hands, lifting them up over his head and looking up, as if for some other god to grant him the power. An anima of purplish light, tinged in white and pink surrounded him. Drovani spun it above him and over to me, so a vortex of raw energy swirled above my head. Finally, he brought it down, impaling me with the magic. It felt like a thousand needles burning through my skin, boring deep into my body, and I clenched my teeth not to scream, closing my eyes as he channeled the energy to its crescendo.

When he was done, I opened my eyes, half expecting to be teleported just outside the ship, to begin my eternal fall through the mists. How else to get rid of me, no? But instead, I was still in the same room.

“Now we can finally speak, my love,” the goddess said, in a voice so rich and splendorous that I fully forgot that the floor even existed.

I nodded, swallowing hard, wondering if the rush of emotion was due to her, or to some lingering effect of the spell.

“Stand, my friend,” Drovani said, reaching out with his hand. I took it and stood, blinking a few times to steady myself.

“Thank you, my lord Drovani,” she said, and he bowed, returning to an empty seat in the front row, denoting him as important as any of the warlords.

I looked at her, trying to fight off the effects of her voice.

“Go on, Lord Thel,” she motioned to one of the men in the front. “You were saying.”

The fellow called Thel stood, bowing to Aryani, then walked over to me. His armor was burnished gold, as if blackened by fire, though simpler than most here. His face was worn and crossed with lines and scars, with darker skin that most of his companions and a wild crest of white hair. He circled me, rubbing his sideburns that were also long and unkempt.

“What experience do you have in battle?” he asked, standing in

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