A Fool's Gamble

TW: Physical violence, gore

Honeydew, oh, Honeydew.

              Where did the days go which, your walls stood high,

              So that when travelers trotted their aching feet with their steeds and merchandise in tow

              would be struck with warmth,

              tongues glued against their moisten mouths of your bosoms of sweet-tingling honey,

              honey jars, honey cakes glazed with cinnamon,

              in all your amber delight.

…

Cassias scoffed at the memory of the Limerick of Honeydew, as he stormed away from the alight square, as he churned, his stomach knotting, swallowing the red sear of embarrassment that flushed his cheeks. “Sir.” Aetis huffed, his brunet wingtips shading Cassias’ face as they walked, as his lean body crackled that Cassias shuddered. “Sir.” Aetis repeated, as Cassias choked a lumpy yell, “Yes?” in a low snap and Aetis hunched his shoulders, “Shall I deal with the forigners for you, sir?” he hushed, and despite Cassias’ twitching against the knawing cold, a wave of anger flurried his face, as he raised a hand, “No.” as they approached the guardhouse on the outskirts wall, “Keep an eye on them on them.” as he chuckled, “Fill me in with their failed attempt of fending off the kierum. Then I can savor the taste, knowing the people will drop them like malnourished dogs.” As he turned, to the man stationed at the front, “Captain Celss.”

“Good day, Consul.” Celss grogged in a heavy sigh, his arms locked behind his back to show off his glistening bronze armour. “How’s the whistler today?” Cassias questioned, his voice dry as he warded off Aetis, who backed away, his wings tucked away as his eyes wavered to the light from the square. Celss blandly nodded at Cassias, his body stiff, “Right this way, sir?” he stated, motioning to the barracks entrance slightly bowed as Cassias trotted, as Celss’ wrinkled shrouded eyes stole a glance to the lit center before quickly catching up, leading Cassias through the barracks.

They walked in silence in the shrouded halls, with nothing but torches lighting the dim limestone walls, which only wavered to the intruding cool winds from the blanketed frost outside only quieted by Cassias’ loud thwapping footsteps as he grumbled.

“Its warm.” Celss said, as Cassias shivered, his hands cupping at his arms, his body clothed in his lavender tunic, cobalt cloak, gold cuffs and adornments chattering under his breath, “It is freezing.” Turning to Celss with a raised brow, “Have your nerves turned black as well?”

Celss simply shrugged, his armor clunking from the force, “There ’s no wood. The center fires, however, are enough warmth.” He said, then smiled, “Quite the sight. Especially grateful to just feel the warmth from the entrance.” As he smirked slightly, as though a mocking glare at Cassias.

[How dare you?]

Cassias grumbled, his frost-bitten hands pumping, as they passed by the cramped outcrop of cells, the men there, most sunken shells that shuddered as Cassias passed by them, others they eyes glinted alight as they traced him down the hall, like caged up wolves ready for the doors to open, to pounce at a weakened calf. Celss glared back at them, as most shoved themselves into the wall, further masked in the darkness. “How is the wood production going?” Celss questioned, in a low tone that it made Cassias jump out of his skin, “Hmm?”

“Wood. Should the town be getting more soon? It’d be better for the town to have first serve.” Celss stated, and noting a glance from Cassias nodded, “Of course- that’s just talk from an old man.” rearing his arms back stiffly behind his back, as Cassias sighed as frustration gnawed at him like maggots.

[Right… Kyron’s off to collect more wood. Great. Just. GREAT.]

“Yes. Kyron should be back with more wood within the next two days.” Cassias answered, trying to calmly set his fists at his sides, his arms swinging like stiff snake skins. “Ah.” Celss hummed, as they continued to walk, making way to another set of cells, the floor reaking of blood. Celss jabbed at the silence once again, “What about the fields?”

“The crops has been planted.” Cassias retorted, his voice low as to not scream, his insides crawling in his skin from the tight space and many eyes they just left.

“They are planted, yes. But, since the kierum arrived, irrigation from Lake Uruea has been neglected.” Celss noted, “Furthermore, my squads have had consistent reports of fields being lined with salt.” Cassias grumbled as Celss continued to list off the delays in harvest:

The farmers and plowers all on strike

The attendants of the farmers either starving or freezing as the working people died off

Cassias noble neighbors should donate resources to help the town

[You are the Consul.]

“The kierum has hit trade with the Hearth quite drastically as well.” Celss continued, as he scratched his chin, “Have you reached out to Consul Felix of the Hearth for reinforcements?”

“Rest assured, Captain. Word should reach Hearth soon for a plea of four centuries.” Cassias grumbled glaring over his shoulder at Celss, as he nodded, as he grew quiet as he stopped in front of a cell, pulling a set of keys from his belt, as he fumbled through the keys.

“Has he revealed anything?” Cassias asked, compressing himself, arms tucked laxly like chains behind his back, chest puffed out, feet pivoted forward against the lime floor. Celss nodded as he hummed, “Not much of importance.” Fumbling with the cell key, “He still refuses to reveal the remaining mages.”

[Nothing of importance. The hell do you know? Oh, if I don’t get the rest of the mages…]

Cassias growled.

[I have to do everything around here.]

Celss swayed the cell door open, and Cassias nodded as he slowly trotted inside the cell, as something gagged, hefty gasping for small breaths. Cassias chuckled, the hefty hands of carrion burning into his nose, “Nice cleaning job, Celss. Be sure to work you men extra hard after there flogging shifts, yes?” Cassias hissed, as Celss held the door as a private stepped into the cell. “Yes, Consul.” Celss answered, before handing the private the cell keys, shutting the door, and walking away.

Cassias chuckled, as the figure continued to breath heavily, before the raspy breaths washed like mucus in his stomach, “Can we get some light in here, please?” Cassias yelled, looking at the private as he motioned his fingertips at the torches. The private nodded, quickly running to sconces, scraping against the flint heads until they lit alight, and the cell brimmed vibrant of light, as the figure flinched against the bright light after so long in darkness.

Cassias smirked blandly, a little line on his face, “Hello, Gardirg.” he said, as Gardirg looked up at him, his swelling red bruise the bulged from his face, that sagged as he lifted his head, scoffed, “Evening.” And his body slithered uncomfortably in his seat, wincing from his knotted arms restrained behind the chair, trying to hover over the healing flesh wound of his leg.

Cassias nodded at the mending wound, and chuckled, “I see they’ve been treating you decently.”

Gardirg scoffed, wincing still towering in the chair, “Ah, the fine treatment of the dogs. Quite decent, you should get a taste of it, Cassias.”

Cassias sighed, cupping his hands clammy hands together, “Consider yourself lucky, boy. If your Father wasn’t my then-steward, these boys,” Cassias gloated, reaching for the scrawny private, scratching at the boy’s helmet roughly, before releasing him, “would be hounding to take the family jewels of the Mûjdek bloodline.”

Gardirg giggled, as he sat up, uncomfortably, but his chest puffed out confidently, nothing but a smile on his pulse swelling face.

“Tch.” Cassias growled, as he eyed the private, nodding to sickle at the corner. The private took the blade, as he gouged at Gardirg’s mending wound, tearing at the flesh, splintering his bone as he grunted, choking down his screams as the veins in his neck pulsed. “Enough.” Cassias called, and the private backed away back to his corner as the two continued to stare at each other. “You know, I can make this easier for you, if you just tell me where the rest of the mages are, Gardirg.” Cassias chuckled, “You can be reunited with your Father sooner, then.” as his hands slithered at his tunic slightly.

Gardirg chuckled again, drowning through pained groans, “Okay- let’s say that I did know where the rest of the mages are.” Gardirg hummed, attempting to press his leg against his abdomen to ease the pain from the wound, “Mages have been our kangobees of the town, especially the winters we fight to warm our homes and town. My grandmother was one of those mages. Your great-grandfather’s wife and brother were mages as well.”

“Yes. Yes, they were.” Cassias grumbled, as he scratched his nose, “Is there a point to your nonsense or are you finally succumbing to the blood loss?” he asked, as he cupped his arms in his hands behind his back.

Silence wafted across the cell, only welcoming the whipping wooshes of the torches and Gardirg’s chuckled breaths, as he breathed, hunched over. Gardirg sat up, grinning through his teeth, “The mages are our family, our neighbors, our friends. Why are they such a threat now?”

“Excuse me?” Cassias growled.

Gardirg leaned forward staring into Cassias’ eyes, “Why do you care about getting every last mage in town? For all the prosperity they’ve brought our town?” he huffed. Cassias opened his mouth, but nothing came out, his voice gone, his mouth dry. Cassias had hummed till his insides we stiff as stone the moment he set foot in this cell, yet now his insides sagged like sausages like a piece of carrion.

Gardirg laughed, his mouth gambling between a gnarled smile and a pout, “Friend… I thought you were far above your grandfather’s influence.” he mumbled, his eyes bright, the frenzied laughter drained from his voice and even his face, now washed over with a solemn blue disappointment. “I guess I was wrong.”

“Hmmph,” Cassias croaked, “bold of you to have such personal expectations of me, friend.” As he took the sickle from the private, as he slowly dug the sickle blade into Gardirg’s abdomen, “But, you know very little- about my family.”

Gardirg chuckled, “Quite contrary, Cassias. What’s one family’s legacy over that of one community’s, the town’s legacy?”

Cassias further sunk the blade in, and Gardirg groaned, blood trickling his teeth, as he inhaled deeply, wincing at the pulses of his seeping lungs. “The kierum was the latest threat to ever descend upon the world, let alone our little town.” Gardirg croaked, as he stared at Cassias who satred back his face graveling, as Gardirg nodded, “Unless, the kierum fear anyone that can become a mage. Have the ability to stand against them.” Gardirg hissed and Cassias felt his skin crawl, like it were going to shed off, until it was only Cassias’ bones left. Gardirg saw this, and laughed. “You’d sell out your own people to save you and your noble blood.” Gardirg whispered, shaking his head slowly, his eyes darting to the floor darkly, as he looked into Cassias’ eyes, “That’s cruel.”

“Cruel. You call that ‘cruel’?” Cassias roared, as Gardirg kneed Cassias in the gut gently, “Ah, ah.” Gardirg huffed, “My Father would become your devil if you killed me.”

“Dainon is a shriveled cabbage. What much else could he pull against me?” Cassias growled, keeping the sickle lodged against Gardirg’s lung, as he grogged, “Heh… if a child can collect a band of people, certainly an old man can do that much more.”

“You-“

Gardirg chuckled, “Come on, I could hear all the hearty shouting outside. Sounds like the town’s had a call to commune again.” He soothed, smiling, as he turned pouting at Cassias, “Unfortunate the Consul had nothing to do with it.”

Cassias’s grumbled, his teeth gritting, “You’re digging yourself quite the grave.”

Gardirg giggled, “At least I’ll die with people there to remember me.” As he stared at Cassias, looking past him, something beyond, “You’ll only be remembered as the delicacy on the kierum’s plate.”

Cassias was silent.

“But you already knew that, right?” Gardirg cooed. Cassias slowly slid the blade from Gardirg’s abdomen, as Gardirg groaned, and Cassias backed away from the huffing man, his sickle hand quivering violently, calling for him to be consumed and tarnish the Mûjdek lineage. Instead, his hand clawed open, the sickle dropping with a loud, clang, clang, clang.

“See you at trial, Gardirg.” Cassias huffed, as calmly as possible, as the private opened the cell door, as they both stepped outside the cell. “Sir, shall I accompany you outside?” the private asked, as he began to lock the door, and Cassias groaned, “No! No.” his mind was flooding, at the thought of his people tearing their way to his palace with nothing but anguish in their eyes at the though of their friends, their family, their neighbors all given up by their Consul for nothing but to save his own keepsake. He shuddered at the possibility of the soldiers taking the catapults to the palace, towering calling for his downfall. “No. Stay here. Keep him awake.” He said as walked through the hall, past the carrion scents, watching eyes and chilled halls to the barracks front, where Celss stand stationed, looking to the lit-up square.

“Ah, Consul.” Celss acknowledged, bowing, “Your orders, sir?”

Cassias sighed, glaring at Celss his face mixed between frustrating suspicion and the jagged stabs of trust, “Keep him till his trial date.” as he turned, “And have a cleric look at him. I don’t want him dying till then,” as he stood in front of Celss, “understood?”

Celss looked back, with eyes weighed down by sleepiness mixed with frustration that seemed to grow as he continued to look at Cassias. “Understood.”

Cassias nodded as he walked, his eyes darting behind him as he walked in town that seemed to shrink, his family’s town turned into his prison.