Chapter 375: The Meeting of Dawn
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Chapter 375: The Meeting of Dawn

 

  …Two weeks earlier…

 

  The valley tribes’ camps sprawled across the hillside. Each chieftain had brought a small retinue of warriors to the gathering. Dozens of suspicious eyes stared at Marek and the twins as they walked down the hill to the large tent where the other chieftains waited. 

  Marek had expected at least one or two upstart tribesmen to block their path and give them some kind of trouble after the recent attacks on the valley people, but not a single warrior did. All eyes quickly shifted away from Marek to the gigantic tarp-covered wagon behind him being hauled by a dozen burly centaurs.

  If only they truly knew what lay dormant underneath that leather tarp. They wouldn’t be staring, they’d be trembling in fear and awe. Marek thought pensively.

  The twin archmages had grown awfully quiet after Vaughn had lost his temper and told Marek the one thing he hadn’t wanted to hear.

  You can’t stop the Unildyr.

  For now, the perplexing creatures of old were for the most part obeying Marek’s command, at least as much as any trained wild animal might. But if the day were to come that they went rabid, Marek didn’t know what he would do.

  The thought elicited more fear within him than this meeting ever would.

  Vaughn stopped walking and gestured to the large tent in front of them. “We’re here. The meeting of the chieftains will soon begin.”

  Dawn’s purple eyes looked Marek over, lingering on his face, before she finally nodded, satisfied. “Do not be afraid. You can do this.”

  Marek smiled wryly. “All I have to do is convince over 50 chieftains to join us. Let’s forget the fact that none of them are interested in alliances and let’s just hope for the best, right?”

  He hadn’t met for his words to come out with a sting of anger, but they had just the same.

  Like a sea serpent in a storm, Dawn pushed through his words and placed her hand on his chest, “You don’t need hope. You have power, right here. Do not forget the will to see your people saved has led you all the way here. You will not fail, because you cannot. Failure is a path we left behind long ago.”

  “Thank you,” he muttered gratefully.

  “Just remember why you are here.”

  And he did. He remembered the faces of all those he had lost to the attacks of Hollow Shade. He remembered how his mother’s family, House Helene, had sent their own men to slaughter the entire Cairn, all so they could bury the fact that his mother was alive. That was how Hollow Shade, a monumental power that did not care for others, and crushed the weak underneath their feet.

  “Marek, you’re finally here,” a voice called out.

  He looked up in surprise at the familiar dark-skinned vampiress walking towards them. “Nokti?”

  The vampiress hadn't changed. She was as beautiful as he had last seen her, though there were bags under her crimson eyes.

  “Why are you here?” Marek asked, before he had even thought about what he was saying. “Weren’t you supposed to be traveling with your dearest Crow?”

  “You still think Crow and I have that sort of relationship?” Nokti glanced at the vampire-drow twins beside him, “I take it neither of you could have been bothered to enlighten our chieftain on the true state of affairs?”

   Marek frowned, “What is she talking about…?”

  “Things that are not currently important,” Dawn said.

  “If you’re here, then Crow must be as well?” Vaughn asked.

  Nokti looked away. “He was supposed to be…” she said dishearteningly. “The three of us were supposed to come together…”

  “Three?” Marek looked around questioningly. There was no one else here.

  The twins noticed the white fox Lin-Lu resting on Nokti’s shoulder, but said nothing. The goddess camouflage was almost impossible to penetrate by mortals. The only reason they could even see Lin-Lu was because she was allowing it.

  “Where is Crow?” Dawn asked suspiciously.

  “Last night we were attacked… by a dragon. Ca–Crow stayed behind while we escaped. But! He’ll be here, I know he will. No dragon has stopped him before,” Nokti said resolutely.

  “Yes, well… we shall see,” Dawn said thoughtfully. “We cannot wait for him, however. The meeting has already begun.”

  “I know, I tried to have them wait, but they refused,” Nokti said indignantly.

  Marek stared at the rising sun between the green hills in the distance. “The Meeting of Dawn will always begin at the first light of sunrise. I don’t expect the other chieftains to have changed our customs for me.”

  “Many of them have been saying terrible things about you in there,” Nokti pointed her thumb at the tent. “Sylaril hasn’t even tried to stop them.”

  “It’s not her job to. As chieftain of the Adder Tribe she is the meeting’s overseer, she is meant to listen and only weigh in when necessary,” Marek said.

  “Then perhaps this may not go as we wish,” Nokti said.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Marek glanced at the wagon behind them.

  “We’ve wasted enough time, let us go,” Dawn urged.

  Marek nodded and took a deep breath. He fastened the orichalcum spear on his back and stood to his full towering height of over 7 feet. He pushed back the tent flaps and strode inside with his head held high.

  Over a hundred people stood inside in a large circle, all of them speaking to each other in clamoring voices. They all stopped and slowly turned their heads to stare at the dire human. It was easy to see the infamous chieftain, he towered over the chieftains and their bodyguards.

  Marek tried his best to ignore their gazes and walked into the middle of the large circle. A tall vampiress sashayed out of the crowd with a calm gait. She wore a long white dress with a slit near the waist, revealing her long pale legs. Her dark hair was braided in a single knot and adorned with golden flame-shaped rings. She carried a gold-capped cane with a snake’s head in her hand, though she clearly didn’t need it to walk.

  Marek bowed his head. “Chieftess Sylaril.” 

  “Marek. You’re late.”

  Sylaril was a pretty woman, though age had left its touch on her. Small wrinkles graced the edge of her crimson eyes and thin wrinkles lined her forehead. Still, she commanded respect and admiration not out of her beauty, but from her power. She was the chieftess of the most powerful and influential tribe in the valley.

  “Believe me, I would have gladly been here at sunrise, but it took a while to move my… cargo,” Marek said carefully.

  Sylaril raised her eyebrow, “What sort of cargo?”

  “Something to help us. All of us.”

  “Bah! The human lies!” A dwarf marched out from the crowd and pointed his ax at Marek. “We’ve all heard the stories. This sorry excuse for a chieftain has never been one to obey our traditions! He doesn’t care for the sanctity of this Meeting of Dawn! He is just a greedy human who is hungry for war! It was bad enough he was attacking and subduing our sister tribes, but now he has brought war to all our homes!”

  The other chieftains yelled in agreement and glared at Marek with hatred in their eyes.

  “It is good to see you too, chieftain Skogard,” Marek smiled coldly. “But seeing as you always hated my father, forgive me for not caring for your petty anger.”

  “I disliked your father, aye, but I respected him,” Skogard admitted. “He knew our ways and respected them well. But you… you are nothing like him. A chieftain is supposed to protect his people. But I’ve seen what you have done to the Cairn, how you’ve twisted your tribe to your personal bidding. No more! I and the rest of the Flarias Tribe will not stand by your warmongering tactics any longer!”

  The chieftains roared in unison, throwing out insults and threats at Marek. Some even raised their weapons. Dawn and Vaughn quietly walked over to Marek, ready to protect him from the slightest attack.

  “You misunderstand me, Skogard,” Marek called out. “All I care about is protecting my people. A duty many of you have seemed to have forgotten. How many of your people have been attacked because they unwittingly crossed paths with a Hollow Shade caravan? How many have died in raids by Hollow Shade’s patrols? When have they ever shown us mercy? All of you! Each one of your tribes! How many innocent lives have you lost!?”

  The voices of the chieftains quieted down and their expressions had turned grim. Even Skogard’s anger had dimmed, if only a little.

  Marek saw the look in their eyes and pushed on, “I care about the safety of my people. But I don’t see their salvation in hiding or running away. I strike back at Hollow Shade caravans when they cross my territory and I leave no survivors. I make sure that they never come back to my lands and take a single more life of my tribe. That’s how I keep my people safe. If you all did the same, then the Hollow Shaders might have learned to stay behind their damn walls.”

  Skogard snarled, “If we did the same? Is that why you attacked Undergrowth in the heart of their city? Because that doesn’t seem like protecting your territory or people.”

  “My tribe had nothing to do with that attack,” Marek said with a still expression.

  “Liar!” Skogard roared. “We all know it was your tribe, even if the Undergrowthers do not. No other chieftain would be so stupid to dare incur the fury of a Great City! It was already bad enough that your attacks incurred the full wrath of Hollow Shade’s armies. It was bad enough that our villages have razed to the ground. It was bad enough when our men were killed, our women raped, and our children put in shackles! But now! Now Undergrowth’s fury has been turned against us as well! All because of you!”

  “Skogard is right,” Sylaril nodded.

  “What? You’d believe his accusations without any proof?” Marek frowned.

  “I am not saying that you orchestrated the attack on Undergrowth. I cannot prove that you did, although I think most of us here would agree that you did have a hand to play in the attack.”

  “Sylaril, I never—”

  “—However. Skogard is right, over the last year, our people have lost more lives than we have in the last century. Countless villages have been destroyed. We cannot face the might of two Great Cities at once, we are barely holding our own against one.”

  “If that’s true then we must join forces,” Marek said.

  “Bah! And the rat shows his true colors!” Skogard yelled. “This was your plan all along!”

  “I have always encouraged the unity of our people!” Marek shouted. “I did not order the attack on Undergrowth. But even if I did, at this point what difference does it make!? The only way we survive this is if we ban together. For the first time in history, the valley tribes would be as one. Only then can we survive what is to come.”

  “That may be true,” Skogard scowled, “But who is to say the valley tribes need you? I say we kill this giant rat before he sabotages our people even more!”

  “I know you want to kill me, you fat bastard, but you need me,” Marek snarled. “You all need me! I have the largest army among all the tribes, with only the Adder Tribe capable of competing. Without me, you will not survive.”

  “Oh, please!” Skogard laughed. “Your ‘vast army’ is built from the sister tribes you subdued. None of them want to be under you. I promise you all, that if we kill this sorry excuse of a chieftain right here and now, his army will break apart. They will be glad to be independent tribes once more and they will join our cause.”

  “Skogard makes a very good point,” Sylaril said thoughtfully. “We do not need your leadership, Marek. We only need your army.”

  The dwarf smiled wide at Sylaril’s words.

  Marek frowned in disbelief, “You wish to go to war with us? When our enemy is already out there! Even as we speak Hollow Shade’s soldiers are prowling the valley in search of us! Lady Thorn is in her city rallying her troops for war! Do you think my people will just go down without a fight? The Cairn Tribe is loyal to me! They will fight each one of you until their dying breaths!”

  “Perhaps they are that loyal to you,” Sylaril said. “But if you don’t make it out of this meeting alive how loyal will they stay?”

  “If you think you can call me here like some dog, then you are sorely mistaken,” Marek said coldly.

  Dawn raised her hand, lightning crackling at her fingertips. The chieftains backed away cautiously. A male lamia slithered in front of Sylaril in a flash, spear, and shield at the ready.

  “You have a nice bodyguard, but I’ve seen my mage’s storm magic melt stone. Your lamia will not save you,” Marek warned.

  “Ah, yes, I have heard of your notorious twin archmagi,” Sylaril noted with an air of indifference. “It is thanks to them that you have managed to achieve victory in all your battles. But do you really think the two of them can stop us all? Every chieftain here has brought their best warriors and mages to this meeting. If your pet mages attack, none of you are walking out of here alive.”

  Marek glared at the chieftains, “Maybe. But I promise you’ll be dead right alongside us. As will many of you. Is that something you’re all willing to risk?”

  The crowd suddenly parted ways for an elderly woman as she shuffled her way into the center of the ring. Her back was bent after many years of hard labor, but her brown eyes were still clear.

  “Chieftess Agnes…?” Marek muttered in recognition.

  She was one of the few human chieftains among the valley tribes and one of the most well-respected of all chieftains.

  “What are we all doing?” Agnes asked quietly. “What are we all doing here fighting amongst ourselves? Is this what the valley people have come to?”

  The old woman shook her head in disappointment, “Is bloodthirst and war all you have in your hearts? Have you all forgotten how our people came to be? Over a thousand years ago our ancestors fled the Northern Lands to escape the endless wars between the drows and vampires. We came to Dusk Valley in search of peace and a life away from all the bloodshed. We are a peaceful people, we have been at peace for over a thousand years. War has never been our way and it should never be, lest we risk destroying everything that we are. Just look at us now, at each other’s throats like a pack of rabid dogs.”

  The chieftains quieted down at her words, carefully contemplating their meaning.

  Marek scoffed, “We have been at war for the last three hundred years! Ever since the ebon lords built that cursed city of shades we have been at war! And if none of you can see that then you are all fools!”

  Agnes shook her head, “You are wrong, child.”

  “No! It is you who are wrong! We have never been a peaceful people! Listen to your own damn stories! What we are is a people who would do anything to survive, even if that meant abandoning our home and traveling a thousand miles to the south! But running away is no longer an option! If we are to survive our people’s greatest threat then we must fight, we must do whatever it takes to survive. And I am the only one who can offer us the one thing we need to win this war!”

  Sylaril narrowed her scarlet eyes, “And what might that be?”

  Marek smiled, his expression half-crazed. 

  It was time. Time to show them the creature that lay dormant outside.

 

 

 

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