Book 1, Ch. 47 - Dual Against Pacha (1) (Patreon)

 With a long sigh, Corco stretched his arms behind his back. After all their differences had been moved out of the way, the nobles' assembly had ended quickly. However, the improvised coronation of the new kings and subsequent signature of the two laws Corco had demanded had still lasted for the better part of the night. His biggest problem had been with his own crowning. Caelestis had come over from the ancestral hall to represent House Pluritac during the coronation of the three new kings. The old man had shown enough shame to keep it brief and avoid eye contact when he put the freshly cast bronze crown on his head. It had still been enough to ruin his mood.   

At least the Arguna weather was clear for once, trying its hardest to soothe his mood. The full moon stood high above the head of the new-crowned King of Southern Medala and illuminated the surroundings in a noble silver glow.

“Congratulations, King Corcopaca,” Fadelio welcomed his master back. Of course no warriors would be allowed inside the assembly of lords, not even attendants, so the man mountain had waited outside all day.

“No getting fresh with me now,” Corco answered the compliment, as insincere as it had been overly formal, with an unamused look. “Time to go. There's still lots to do tomorrow, and I'm exhausted.”

“Halt! Southern King! This heroic king has further matters to debate on!”

Corco stopped in his tracks, halted by the blaring noise from behind.

If only I had a voice like that, then I'd have never had to invent that megaphone, the king thought before he turned to find Pachacutec, King of Central Medala close in with large strides, his golden peacock armor gleaming in the moonlight and his long, tied-up hair dancing in the wind like a military banner.

“Do we have to do this now? I've got an exam tomorrow...” By the time Corco had finished his pointless in-joke, the peacock had already reached his front and built up his frame in a broad stance. Corco looked behind him to see the rest of the assembly eject themselves from the mansion. The curious bystanders had already started to assemble into a crowd, with Amautu and Caelestis at the very front of the pack. It seemed like someone had expected the peacock's outburst and prepared the witnesses in advance. Unperturbed by the attention, Corco's uncle continued.

“Impossible! There is still the matter of the borders to be cleared!” the peacock smirked.

“...what matter? You get all the land south of Arguna, along the Argu, Nawi Lake and the Tears. I get everything south of Sinchay. We've been over this.”

Corco frowned as he stepped back over to his Uncle Pacha, back in front of the crowd. He had a bad feeling about this.

“That may be true.” Corco raised a finger to speak up but was droned out by another ear piercing shout.    “However!” There is still one piece of land that remains undeclared by the treaty. Right between the two isles, the Narrow is as of yet unclaimed.”

“What are you even talking about? The Narrow from Qarasi castle down are south of the Narrow Sea's coastline, so they belong to Sachay. It's been like that for generations.”

“However, Qarasi Castle has been part of the Pluritac estate even throughout the War of the Isles thirty years ago. By right, it has not been part of Sachay during the encounters and thus should be considered a part of Sinchay land!”

Corco stared at the audacious peacock. Again, he had proven his shamelessness.

“How is that even a coherent argument? Anyways, now it's too late. The land is set. Maybe you could have thought of that before the coronation.”

Pacha's prideful look turned sinister, much closer to the mother's side of his family, as his eyes narrowed and his mouth widened into a smirk.

“...this heroic king forgot. However, there is enough doubt about the southern claim over the castle. Thus, this heroic king will challenge the decision.”

“You're insane! Are you trying to start a war right out of the gate?!”

Corco was shell-shocked by the crazy plan his brother had hatched, or been talked into. Qarasi Castle was built along a river, right at the mouth of the Narrow, the connecting piece between the two isles. North or south, it was a perfect place to defend from all attackers. Even an army five times the size of the defenders would struggle to cross the sturdy walls. After the civil war, House Villca had been forced to deconstruct the opposite Lacari Castle, Qarasi Castle's mirror on the Sachay side. Thus, Qarasi was the only way for Corco to do his duties as king and defend the Narrow from northern invaders. Without its halo, all of Sachay would be open for the armies of the north. This warmonger was trying to take over the south not even minutes after he had taken power of the center. In defiance of the quiet night around them, a storm began to brew in Corco's heart.

“At this point, only the elders will be able to mediate,” the peacock continued, “what does Elder Caelestis say would be a good way to solve the conflict?”

His hands already balled into fists, Corco's head shot over to Caelestis. He could hear Fadelio's steps move in from behind, ready to hold back or support his master's charge. Despite the cold, large drops of sweat formed on the elder's brow, his throat moving to swallow down his fears. In the end, the old man took a heart and stepped forward, though there was still a quiver in his voice.

“King Pachacutec is correct. The agreed upon treaty lacks detail. Thus it must be decided after, through an agreement between the Kings.”

“In this case!” Pacha screamed, “This king will challenge the southerner to a duel.”

Corco ignored his uncle and looked around the crowd. The peacock wasn't nearly smart enough for a scheme like this. Someone else must have planned this. Again, his eyes landed on Caelestis, who ducked down and disappeared into the onlooking masses.

“Your arm is better, is it not, brother? This time, there is no excuse to reject, is there?”

Finally, Corco gave up his search for the culprit and focused on the smugly smiling Pacha. He thought back to all the things the little bastard had done. The assassination, the silver turtle, the insults... and back into his head it went, that damn phrase. He still remembered clearly, back when they had met at the banquet. That time his hopes had been so high to reconcile with his family after all those years, all crushed by the peacock's 'how's your arm brother'. The bastard had always underestimated Corco, always thought he would just roll over and make way to a bit of grandstanding. This time, there was no injury holding him back. This time, there was no reason to back down.

“Okay. I'm in.”

“...”

Pacha's dull face became even duller as the crowd of shadows in the back began to whisper.

“Once agreed upon, there will be no more way to weasel out of the duel. This hero will go easy on no man, not even his brother!” Once registered what his brother had said, the peacock began to play his role again.

“...yeah, I get it. Undefeated in a hundred bouts, right? Let's just see what you've got.”

Corco answered his brother's faked concern with bared teeth. Like a fly, the bastard had done his best to annoy him to death. Today, Corco would finally swat him down.

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Once again, the crowd had assembled within the central yard. After the assembly and throughout the coronation, the furniture had already been removed. At this late hour, the pale moonlight, escorted by sparse torches, shone onto the circle of sand prepared for the duel and onto the surrounding crowd. As was Yaku tradition, the two duelists would determine just whose fist was most justified under the moon and the stars. For now, the onlookers waited for the fighters to get ready.

The roles on the edges of the circle were well distributed. Corco's loyalists stood to Amautu's right, with his brother's giant attendant chief among them. Meanwhile, Pachacutec had amassed the dependencies of the Ichilia clan behind himself to Amautu's left. He himself had taken the middle between the camps and would pretend a neutral position for now. As servants smoothed and flattened the arena, Amautu watched the whole proceedings around himself with a sardonic smile.   

“Well done,” Amautu said to the warrior in his back.

“It was as master predicted,” the gratified voice of his servant returned.

“Indeed,” Amautu answered back. He was very pleased with how his plan had been going.   

“Though...”

The warrior hesitated, but Amautu's patient “go on” urged him to continue. He would never silence his people. He would rather be wrong than ignorant.

“If King Corco were to win it would pit the two southern kings against each other from the start, with us to move freely to balance the scales. However, if King Pacha were to be the victor...”

“It would make no difference. If the bastard wins, he gets the castle. After that, he still has to invest the time and money to win a war against the south. And then he has to hold it somehow. Whatever he intends to gain from Sachay, he will have to spend double to suppress the rebellions. No matter what the bastard does today, it will be his loss.”

A smile crept onto Amautu's face as he watched his giant uncle step out into the center with all the posturing of the proud peacock he was. Amautu looked forward to crushing him into the mud. With a thought back to the hole in the foreigner's corpse, he just hoped his brother would leave him enough to make him satisfied. 

Author's note: Short chapter. The next one is really long though, and I didn't wanna split it up.