I, Dacien

A Story by Onyx Tao

© 2011

Released under the Creative Commons

Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike License

http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/

Chapter Eleven: interlude I

General Osaze swallowed, and came to a decision; it was a difficult decision, and all the harder for being deferred. He should have made a clean confession to Te. No, not to Te, to Lord Teodor, Patriarch of Lycaili. Lord Teodor deserved to know. He needed to know, no matter how embarassing or inconvenient it might be Oz, one-time lover and friend of Te. General Osaze had a responsibility which he had avoided. If Lord Teodor didn't need to know, that would be one thing, and General Osaze had neglected to mention any number of things to Teodor when he'd been Lord Fog. But keeping the information from Lord Teodor ... a different matter. Watching Lord Teodor order Mage Dacien returned, dead or alive, had driven home his own dereliction. No quiver of his muzzle, no twitch of his eyes would reveal to anyone just how harshly that word resounded in his mind, but it was the right one. Dereliction .

Dereliction, born of cowardice. "Filius," General Osaze said, a moment after Teodor left the room. He would not put it off another moment. "Take over for me. Milos, please come with me. We will have a private word with Lord Teodor, if he will permit."

Te had taken chambers across from what had been Cresphonte's chamber. He nodded to the two guards on duty, and knocked firmly on the door, to no response. He took a deep breath, and knocked again, calling out, "Lord Teodor, it is General Osaze. I must have a word with you."

After a moment, the reply came. "The matter is important and urgent? It cannot wait?"

"In my opinion, My Lord, it cannot. It ... it has waited too long, already."

Another long silence, and General Osaze began to frame another statement, when Teodor called, "Of course. Come in, General."

Oz told Milos to wait outside for him, and the smaller minotaur nodded as Oz went in.

The private rooms Teodor had selected were small, and Teodor had ordered the furnishings removed, and replaced with things from his own house. He had not wanted to bleach out what had been there; it was in storage, against the next occupant. Osaze looked around, seeing the room blur into a familiar shade of gray. He smiled at the memories it brought back, and then he banished them again.

Teodor had already changed into a loose lounging robe, and had a glass half-full of apricot brandy. He sat by the fireplace, with a tasteful arrangement of pine cones and logs where the fire would burn when the weather turned cold, and took a gulp of the brandy. "General," he said. "I am sorry I canceled my audiences early, but I did not think anything was so vital as to be worth staying."

"No, Lord Teodor. These words are to be private. If you would ensure our privacy ..."

"Done. Please speak, Oz. What is it?"

"Lord Teodor, I am Polychome Viridian," Osaze admitted. "I report directly to Polychrome himself."

Teodor blinked. And then blinked again. "You?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"And ... you were Polychrome back when ..."

"Yes, My Lord, I was. And I was Polychrome on your most recent mission to Ourouborous as well."

"Cresphontes knew."

"I am not sure, My Lord," Osaze said. "He commanded Polychrome to see to it himself, and I received the assignment from him. I suspect Lord Cresphontes knew I was in the organization, but I do not know if he knew my standing within it."

"Viridian."

"Yes, My Lord."

"What does that mean?"

"It means ... My Lord, we Polychrome serve Lycaili, and we serve best the less that is known of us. In the proper order of things, Polychrome would have made himself known to you, but I have known that was not possible. Cresphontes tasked him otherwise." Osaze took a deep breath, and continued. "I am of great authority, I report directly to Polychrome himself, and he has trusted me with some of his secrets, and some of Cresphontes', as well."

"Who is your senior, then?"

"My Lord, if you ask again, I will tell you, but I beg you not to ask unless you need the information."

"I need to know how long before he can brief me himself."

"That is not known, and his name would not tell you that. If things go well, from ten days to a month. If things go poorly, longer."

The gray minotaur nodded without enthusiasm. "Very well. You have made contact. Was that all?"

"My Lord, I probably have the key to Milos' report."

"And that is what caused you to show yourself?"

"My Lord, our standing orders are to be invisible, unseen, and unnoticed," General Osaze said. "And ... I thought you might hold that business in Ourouborous against me."

"The command to wipe that warrior's mind - burn it clean - was yours?"

"It was. It was necessary, My Lord. I would order it again."

"Well," said Teodor, after a moment. "I understand what it is to give such orders, now. Perhaps you were wise to wait." Teodor took another gulp of brandy. "I can hardly hold yours against you."

"My Lord, this is not about that, it is about Milos' report."

"Yes," sighed Teodor. "I imagine Milos is waiting outside, and has no idea of any of this."

"You are, as usual, correct."

"Bring him in. I'll factor him into the privacy, and you can, what is the term, debrief him?"

"You will see, My Lord," Osaze said, going to the door. "If, in fact, I have the key. It depends." Osaze opened the door, and gestured for Milos to enter.

The brown minotaur looked slightly uncomfortable as he joined them; Osaze standing, and Teodor slumped in a chair. "My Lord? General? Did you have further questions?"

"Yes," said Osaze. "Milos, who am I?"

"General Osaze," Milos said uncertainly.

"And who else is in the room?"

"Lord Teodor," Milos said.

"And Lord Teodor is the Patriarch of Lycaili?" At Milos' nod, Osaze added, "A verbal reply, please."

"He is," said Milos, and then a look of understanding chased the glimmer of surprise from his face. "I am alone with General Osaze and the Patriarch."

"Polychrome viridian," Osaze said. "Let that is silent be heard."

Milos looked up for a moment, and then, when he looked down, his eyes were slightly unfocused. The brown minotaur kneeled, and began to speak. "Lord Cresphontes," he said, in a voice more like Sasha's than his own, "I report a disaster of my own making. The battle Milos will report, but the loss of Mage Dacien is more profound. His loyalty is not yet ours, My Lord, but I judge he will be, or rather, he would have come be loyal. He knows he will not be welcomed back in the Empire as a minotaur, and is seeing that we are far from the monsters the humans imagine. I judged it better to let that sentiment grow than to meddle, although if you tell Xavien I meddled, I will never contradict it.

"Our attackers had a talented air mage of their own. He is not as practiced as I, but good enough. If I survive - the matter is in doubt - I will have much work to pull our guards from his coma. I was able to break it for some of the protected guards, but for those without natural resistance or manufactured resistance, it will be a great labor. I suggest diverting Ianthos immediately on your receipt.

"I have never encountered this air-mage. He is pristine-ebon cross, even as our attackers were, and I would - will - know him again if ever we come into proximity. In our battle, I was unable to steal so much as a name from his mind, which was odd. Ask Teodor if that requires explanation.

"Dacien ... here I must report a stroke of stupidity. Eager to avoid any of the surprises that bedeviled Teodor, I placed an inhibition on using his magic into him. At least I had the opportunity to put the deep protections against mindbending in place, although they were never meant to hold up in a capture scenario. I am not sure how they will play out."

"Tell Teodor that I take full responsibility for losing his son, and that I will do everything I can to recover him.

"I will return as quickly as I can consistent with our security.

"My Lord." With that, Milos shook his head.

"Did that ..."

"Yes, thank you, Master Milos," said Teodor. "Well." Teodor looked at the fireplace for a moment. "Well. Well."

"Lord Teodor?" asked Milos hesitantly. "Is all well?"

"No," said Teodor. "Master Milos, please return to General Zachiah. Organize a relief force. I want Lord Doze safely back in Labyrinth now."

"My Lord ..."

"Oh, I can't have it, I know," Teodor said. "But come as close as you may, yes?"

"I understand, Lord Teodor," Milos said, and left immediately.

Teodor simply gazed up at Osaze, silently, for several minutes, until, finally, Osaze spoke. "I beg your forgiveness," the minotaur said quietly.

"Whose?" said Teodor, refilling his glass. "Lord Teodor's? Lord Fog's?" His lips quirked up into a fleeting half-smile. "Just ... Te's?"

"All of them," the gold minotaur said. "But especially Te's."

"Well, we all forgive you," Teodor said, and waved a hand at the door. "Now go away."