Rain Harlow
patreon
(Vol 6) Chapter 17: Naug(hty) Ambitions
🕑 Added 2024-08-10 15:18:39 +0000 UTC======================================================
Author's Note: Fair warning, might get a wee bit steamier than normal by the end. :P Artful insinuation!
======================================================
Ba Ra’s first suggestion to maneuver within the political situation was to ‘wake up’ Nyomel, and thereby the other former Dreixia aides, to the actual problem they seemed unable to grasp. If she would throw herself behind whoever she thought could win, it would do wonders. At the very least, it would stall things. According to Ba Ra, Sammy’s best asset was in fact a third party who just so happened to owe her a favor, anyway — Deikmorn Brakka.
The legendary hero had emerged from the sick tent as if from the dead, to the amazement and excitement of the rest of the army, basically regarded as a sign that they had made the right choice in who they were putting in with.
Deikmorn was well-regarded and his opinion would be strongly cultivated if he had input. Even more importantly, his backing could be useful, if not exactly decisive considering it wasn’t his clan. But a respectful nod from him went a long way because he was considered another independent. Meanwhile, Deikmorn tangentially understood reluctance about Ogdellos, who, though a fine fighter, was in fact ‘well-known to have a log for a brain.’
It’s clear an outsider can be a big influence. How big is the question, I guess…
The Naugite hero also refused the matter as satisfactory for the clearance of his debt, being such a minor favor in his eyes.
Ba Ra did not have good candidate suggestions. Her personal first choice was an old general, Hannadros, who had Dreixia’s respect as a retainer and advisor, but it was unlikely he’d agree to the position. As a compromise, if Ogdellos would ultimately become the War Chief, if they had any leverage to make a deal, inserting this Naugite as an advisor would be very wise to mitigate issues.
The likely two other candidates were Raddok and Quoller, both chiefs of different consolidated clans. The trouble was they did not really like each other, and by default one would oppose the other — one of the secondary reasons why Ogdellos was in such favor. It was assumed he’d defer to advisors such as them as a leader.
Raddok and Quoller. It’s too bad. They have a nice ring together. Could’ve been a comedy duo. Or a law firm.
Some sort of diplomacy would be required to get one to tolerate the other unless some other unforeseen candidate could be propped up like Ogdellos. Losing a clan to division would be disastrous, though, and possibly see more loss than ‘merely’ a fifth of the forces.
Tricky. We need Nyomel’s input to some degree.
The meeting between Nyomel and Deikmorn was staged that very hour in the deep of the night, and in secret. They avoided connecting him directly with Puck or Ba Ra — despite Puck’s aid, no one seemed ready to believe he was in that camp. Sammy was hoping he could be a bridge to soften any resistance or animosity Nyomel had toward Puck.
Welp. Good luck, Deikky. Break a leg, I guess.
✦•············•✦•···········•✦
Seated on a big, soft cushion in a dark tent filled with incense, Deikmorn Brakka sipped wine and studied the Naugite woman across the little ornate table from him. At that moment, she was holding her goblet in two hands and staring into it in contemplation. Deikmorn had just rather frankly dropped all the key details he’d been instructed to about the situation and expressed his adamance that she was a hair away from losing any play she had.
The tent was not hers, but of a close friend and ally, so as to reduce potential eyes. Not that Deikmorn had any doubt he was unseen. Even with a permanent malus, few could see him when he didn’t desire it.
Nyomel was entirely made-up beauty-wise despite the late hour. Long hair pinned up, golden glittery eyes and lip painting, a sheen on her skin. But perhaps the last was just natural. A lovely woman. A bit older than me, yet she looks entirely in her prime. The catch of fine wine for the next target of her ambitions.
“I thought I had more time,” Nyomel muttered into her goblet. “They’ve bypassed me, then. I’m afraid I don’t see an obvious solution. You must know the dynamic already, to know as much as you do. Ogdellos is a compromise between Raddok and Qualler, and thus the compromise of many cooler heads. I wish they were cooled enough to realize the rational solution overall, but here we are, as you’ve revealed. I presume from spies in less careful quarters out of mine.”
Deikmorn shrugged helplessly. “I was hoping you had a candidate. What about Hannadros? And the other clan leaders won’t compete with Ogdellos?”
“Compete. We are not under the Church of the Endless Rise, Deikmorn, merely allied to Zadkiel. Are you under it?”
“Not at all. This struggle is hardly exclusive to Zadkiel’s core, though. Everyone deals with this up north, Southlander.”
Nyomel looked away and sipped her wine. “If only it weren’t so. But no, Hannadros will not, I can tell you this absolutely as a close friend of his. The two other clan leaders are of smaller clans. The Yagmokka are connected by a handful of marriages to Raddok’s Dostrans. The Ralmeekans are ostensibly neutral but pragmatically defer to Qualler’s Uevarra. Do you see? Ogdellos is in the middle as balance. My council would be, too, and better than him, but alas.”
“Alas is right — or, ‘son of a bitch,’ as I like to say. In that case, why don’t you compete? Instead of attempting the ‘revolution’ of a committee.”
The mature Naugite beauty sipped her wine and met his eyes levelly. “The council is a screen to obfuscate me, an unacceptable leader, being a feminine foreigner, purported witch, and now someone associated with a failure that almost got the whole alliance crushed.”
“I noticed that Dreixia was female,” Deikmorn replied dryly. “She still allied these clans together.”
“By her force of will, and as a very successful warrior. She also occupied the same position, from the same core clan, as Ogdellos. I’d hoped my screen would be assumed to be Hannadros pulling strings indirectly rather than me. I leaked such things.”
Deikmorn coughed a bitter laugh. “Ha! So your subtle Southern ways put you into the trap of not keeping things simple and stupid for us Northerners.”
“I also sabotaged myself as a candidate, hmm? There were rumors even before of me being a submissive lover of Dreixia’s — untrue, by the way — and I’ve always been held in general suspicion. Let us be honest: I cannot be anything but a power behind another in this clan.”
Frowning, Deikmorn sipped his wine and pondered. What a bloody pickle. “What were you to Dreixia, then, if I may ask?”
Nyomel smirked at him. “What is in your imagination, Shalkan?”
“Well, you did say ‘ not a submissive lover,’ so...” He shrugged suggestively.
Rich laughter erupted from her. “I knew it! That’s the rumor more whispered in the dark in fear of furious reprisal from her — that I had bewitched her and was actually a dominant lover. This is the world of our people, no? All things stamped with the emblem of lust.”
“Yes. You won’t ever hear me denying it. Well?”
She regarded him in mild amusement and sipped her wine. Finally, she replied, “No. Not lovers at all. It is just as she would say: ‘I am wedded to the clan’s stones.’ Her lack of obvious lovers at all stirred such rumors. She never married and lost her lover long, long ago. She never spoke in detail about it and took it to her grave. Or, I should say of a Northerner, to the flames of oblivion.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised. She cared for nothing but battle and glory.”
“Not true, Shadow Blade of Shalka. She cared about her clan, her ancestors, and about independence. Particularly from gods.”
“And you?”
“I’m not averse to competent, experienced, and aggressive lovers of the male persuasion.”
Deikmorn blinked. “Uh, not-… I meant… about the gods. And… What do you care about?”
She had a lopsided grin as her finger ‘idly’ traced around the edge of her goblet. “Are you sure that’s what you meant?”
“I’m strongly considering re-thinking what I meant.” At this rate, I might owe the goddess another favor for putting me in this tent.
Nyomel’s smile deepened but she said, “Gods simply reflect us. It is Dreixia’s faction — and not even the whole clan, obviously — that wants to hear the dogmatic business.
“Honestly, Deikmorn, I care about my own personal power, while minimizing damage to others to realistic limits and forming close bonds with a small, meritocratic core. Rest assured I would never have died like a dog with Dreixia in that fort. I would’ve survived, escaped, and used the survival to pick up what pieces I could. My loyalty would be clear and I could’ve leveraged it for authenticity. I planned on having a scar.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t have to mar a perfect face.” I see an unlocked door, I open it. Hmm. A pragmatist, then, and somewhat in disguise. Useful intel, definitely.
She smiled pleasantly at the flattery. “Your weakness is well known, but I’d wondered if you preferred only those half your age.”
“Ouch! No, not really. You look that with plenty to spare, besides.”
She peered at him a moment in what might’ve been a touch of surprise. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m glad you think so.”
“I do. So, in preemptively pondering my weaknesses, were you looking forward to seducing me, then?” He made sure there was a bit of tease in his voice.
She raised a coy eyebrow. “That insinuates there was effort necessary.”
Deikmorn laughed and took a sip of his wine. “I do worry about what I’d be getting myself into. Besides the obvious.”
“I think that’s logical.” She sipped from her goblet, never breaking eye contact. “Trouble. Glorious trouble. Would you like to hear of my sudden, new ambition this hour?”
“Oh, do I! And… experience, perhaps?”
A warm smile. “Such eagerness. That would be for your ambitions, but far be it for me to disappoint a legend.” She set her goblet down and undid her pinned-up white hair, letting it fall to cascade over her shoulders. “Ogdellos is someone I’ve already had… relations with before. It would be natural for me to appear to revisit it at this point. Meanwhile, this night’s coming event can leak, as a passion flaring up that was once kept entirely secret…”
Nyomel slowly but with catlike agility crawled up on the table over Deikmorn, her words transitioning briefly into a possessive smile as their eyes locked. “Setting the stage for a feud of lovers. Demand a duel to settle it, Shalkan. First blood. He cannot believably deny something he’s bragged about, can he? Who can question a Shalkan on a grudge of the heart?
“Embarrass and injure him in a duel that would be nigh impossible for him to refuse. If he does refuse, he’ll be seen nearly as badly, weakening his position.” Her hand snaked up to touch Deikmorn’s cheek as her face drew very close. He could smell the sweetness of her perfume. “What say you?”
Deikmorn, stunned and ‘on fire levels’ of aroused, opened his mouth to reply — and she kissed him. He kissed back hungrily.
Her atop him, in between kisses, he managed, “But-... Who…? Why…?”
She broke from his lips to answer, while unbuttoning his shirt. “You, Deikmorn Brakka! You can lead. With me as your advisor and the representative go-between to my clan allies. Less officially, the other former council.”
“Me?! I’m a Shalkan! I have no ties to them!” Is she serious?! Is that possible? Consolidation... a super alliance to match Zadkiel's... under Puck?
Nyomel kissed his neck and whispered into his ear. “You’re a hero who defied death! What do you think truly bound them with Dreixia? What binds them now? A relative unknown, and one who cannot truly lead, but guide only. I think. This goddess Puck.” She moved back to meet his eyes. Hers almost glowed with the charge inside them. “They need someone like Dreixia to believe in! That’s you. And they need someone like me to do —” she grinned devilishly as her hand went lower — “the dirty work.”
What she did next definitely suited the words. Fortunately, he was indeed ‘experienced’ and disciplined enough to prolong his good fortune. His name being screamed in the night contributed authentically to the ‘leaks’ desired from that tent.
____________________________________________________________
« (Vol 6) Chapter 16 | Table of Contents | (Vol 6) Chapter 18: Quality of Life »
____________________________________________________________
