targets. It was hard not to simply stand there and scream at him. That was partly why he had Pita standing there with him. That and just in case he ended up doing something stupid and getting himself killed, so that there was someone to report back to the king.
“And I have already told you utra. I did not send soldiers against your pathetic little village. Why would I?” Finell leaned forwards on his throne, his face a mask of anger. “Or are you calling me a liar?”
It was a challenge, and a very clear threat. Iros knew it. Everyone there did. And he knew it still had to be met.
“Whether you sent them or not High Lord, the murderers were elves in blackened chain armour. Elves with longbows. Watchmen. An army of them, five hundred strong. The witnesses have all said the same. Are you saying that you do not have control of your own army?” It was Finell’s turn to go white with rage as he realised that he was being called either a liar or an impotent ruler, and Iros knew he was about to start screaming again. The entire court knew it. He could see them bracing themselves.
Then the black hearted high commander stepped in to smooth things over, and things became somehow worse as he subtly spread his poisonous lies. The man was evil, but cunning with it. He had the tongue of a venomous serpent, and the morals to match.
“Witnesses? I thought you said there were no survivors.” His tone was soothing and conciliatory. It was a lie. And every fibre of Iros’ being wanted to leap at him and slice the elf through.
“In the town no. These murderous scum killed even the babies.” He turned to face Y’aris directly. “What sort of monstrous evil have you taught your poisonous soldiers that they should kill even babies?”
“My watchmen have no such instructions.” He was lying. Iros knew it, even if he couldn’t prove it. Black hair, black heart and black blood.
“Well they did, and there were witnesses. Those who watched the attack from afar. Those who hid.”
“So cowards then, and people too distant to see clearly.” Y’aris actually managed to smirk as he said it, and only Pita’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from drawing his blades and slaughtering the evil little elf where he stood.
“Good people. Unarmed and innocent. And people with good eyes. Not black bloods.” The entire court gasped as he openly called Y’aris that, but if his words had any effect on the black-hearted elf he didn’t show it. He just turned away, still smirking, to address Finell.
“High Lord. I think that we have our answer. Despite this poor human’s beliefs, these were brigands dressed in black armour. Perhaps even the same black armoured brigands who so brutally murdered your sweet sister Elwene.”
“You poisonous toad skin! They were elves! Your foul soldiers!” Iros finally gave in to his anger, unable to listen to such lies. He knew it was a mistake but he simply couldn’t help himself. And his cause wasn’t helped any when the trolls started stamping their feet and shouting their support. They loved a good fight, and Y’aris disgusted them. He in turn openly called them urdan, or wild animals in Common.
“High Lord. Clearly this pitiful human is distressed beyond his ability to reason. These were not our soldiers. I know where my watchmen are at all times and none of them are within the human realm. I can furnish you with the records. Besides, everyone here knows that no elf would ever do such a thing. We are not savages.” He turned back to him, and Iros could see the amused smirk still sitting on his face. The triumph dancing in his eyes. The black blood thought he had won, and maybe he had. Iros had fallen into his trap.
“I am fully capable of reason black blood.” Was it too far? Probably. But Iros had the deaths of a thousand Greenlander’s in his heart. He didn’t care if he gave offence. Not to that toad.
“But not of keeping
“And I have already told you utra. I did not send soldiers against your pathetic little village. Why would I?” Finell leaned forwards on his throne, his face a mask of anger. “Or are you calling me a liar?”
It was a challenge, and a very clear threat. Iros knew it. Everyone there did. And he knew it still had to be met.
“Whether you sent them or not High Lord, the murderers were elves in blackened chain armour. Elves with longbows. Watchmen. An army of them, five hundred strong. The witnesses have all said the same. Are you saying that you do not have control of your own army?” It was Finell’s turn to go white with rage as he realised that he was being called either a liar or an impotent ruler, and Iros knew he was about to start screaming again. The entire court knew it. He could see them bracing themselves.
Then the black hearted high commander stepped in to smooth things over, and things became somehow worse as he subtly spread his poisonous lies. The man was evil, but cunning with it. He had the tongue of a venomous serpent, and the morals to match.
“Witnesses? I thought you said there were no survivors.” His tone was soothing and conciliatory. It was a lie. And every fibre of Iros’ being wanted to leap at him and slice the elf through.
“In the town no. These murderous scum killed even the babies.” He turned to face Y’aris directly. “What sort of monstrous evil have you taught your poisonous soldiers that they should kill even babies?”
“My watchmen have no such instructions.” He was lying. Iros knew it, even if he couldn’t prove it. Black hair, black heart and black blood.
“Well they did, and there were witnesses. Those who watched the attack from afar. Those who hid.”
“So cowards then, and people too distant to see clearly.” Y’aris actually managed to smirk as he said it, and only Pita’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from drawing his blades and slaughtering the evil little elf where he stood.
“Good people. Unarmed and innocent. And people with good eyes. Not black bloods.” The entire court gasped as he openly called Y’aris that, but if his words had any effect on the black-hearted elf he didn’t show it. He just turned away, still smirking, to address Finell.
“High Lord. I think that we have our answer. Despite this poor human’s beliefs, these were brigands dressed in black armour. Perhaps even the same black armoured brigands who so brutally murdered your sweet sister Elwene.”
“You poisonous toad skin! They were elves! Your foul soldiers!” Iros finally gave in to his anger, unable to listen to such lies. He knew it was a mistake but he simply couldn’t help himself. And his cause wasn’t helped any when the trolls started stamping their feet and shouting their support. They loved a good fight, and Y’aris disgusted them. He in turn openly called them urdan, or wild animals in Common.
“High Lord. Clearly this pitiful human is distressed beyond his ability to reason. These were not our soldiers. I know where my watchmen are at all times and none of them are within the human realm. I can furnish you with the records. Besides, everyone here knows that no elf would ever do such a thing. We are not savages.” He turned back to him, and Iros could see the amused smirk still sitting on his face. The triumph dancing in his eyes. The black blood thought he had won, and maybe he had. Iros had fallen into his trap.
“I am fully capable of reason black blood.” Was it too far? Probably. But Iros had the deaths of a thousand Greenlander’s in his heart. He didn’t care if he gave offence. Not to that toad.
“But not of keeping
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