The Storm King

Leon stood on a balcony overseeing a collection of some four hundred tribesmen. All were fifth to seventh-tier, and all, he’d been assured, were the best of the best.

He could believe it, even the relatively inexperienced Hawks and Eagles. All of them were standing at rigid attention in full armor, their discipline on display as Leon evaluated their auras from his perch.

Standing with him were the Jaguar, Xanthippe, Ipatameni, and Singer-in-Caves, as well as several dozen other eighth-tier elders from the Tribes. He had most of his retinue with him as well, having left only Cassandra at the guest house with only Eirene and Anna’s war beasts for company. While he didn’t relish doing so, he wanted to minimize any potential conflicts that could arise. He had no intention of leaving her out of everything, but he wanted to make sure everyone was comfortable with her presence first, regardless of their oaths.

“What do you think, Your Majesty?” the Jaguar whispered into Leon’s ear.

“They’d make impressive statues,” Leon wryly replied. “Appearances aren’t everything; I want to see what they can do.”

He turned and nodded to his retainers, and Marcus, Alcander, Alix, Gaius, and Anshu made their way down to the courtyard.

“All of you are here for a very specific reason!” Leon shouted as his retainers entered the courtyard, ensuring that their attention was on him rather than his people. “I am putting together a force of the best of the best that the Tribes have to offer! I asked your elders and Chiefs for their picks on who should be in that group!”

He paused for a moment and cast his gaze about, trying to make eye contact with as many of the assembled men and women as he could. It was fairly hard not just for their numbers but also because they all wore their helmets. Showing that they had good taste in practical armor was a part of Leon’s evaluation, after all.

“Are all of you the best?” Leon roared in inquiry.

The assembled tribesmen roared as one in response. The Lions and Jaguars were the loudest—no great shock to Leon given their reputations and training regimens. But he was a little more taken aback at the Hawks and Eagles showing themselves only a tiny bit quieter.

“Good! All of you should be proud of the trust that your elders and Chiefs have shown in you and your skills! There’s only one problem: there are one hundred of you from every Tribe sworn to me! I only have room for twenty-five!”

He paused again and was pleasantly surprised that none of the tribesmen whispered amongst themselves, concealing any surprise or offense they may have felt.

“My people are going to start conducting evaluations!” Leon continued. “Let us begin!”

What followed was twelve hours of evaluations. Questions on the nature of their magic, demonstrations of that magic, and displays of weapon skill were all demanded. Occasionally, one of the elders accompanying Leon would call out a specific tribesman when Leon’s people got to them, and Leon would have them step forward for a more personal evaluation.

He didn’t take every one of the warriors thusly presented, but most of them did meet his criteria.

It didn’t take long for the assembled tribesmen to be whittled down to three hundred. It took a little longer for two hundred, and the final whittling took more than half of the twelve hours devoted. But inevitably, Leon was left with one hundred tribesmen, twenty-five from all four of his Tribes.

Leon paid as much attention as he could over that time, making sure that his people were fair in their judgments. Anshu, he noted, while mostly avoiding the female tribesmen, didn’t back down to deal with them when fewer and fewer candidates remained. By the end, about thirty of the selected tribesmen were female, and not a single complaint passed Anshu’s lips.

The remaining three hundred weren’t kicked out of the courtyard. Leon could see the disappointment in many of their eyes as they doffed their armor, but not once did he see even a hint of antipathy or anger directed toward him. A few times he noted some anger and frustration against one of his people, but given the degree of power he wanted for his personal guard and the discerning eyes of the elders and Chiefs, the people he was presented with were older and calmer.

“Congratulations to those selected!” Leon shouted as his people finished. “You one hundred will be the founding members of my guard! My Tempest Knights!”

The ‘losers’ politely clapped as his new knights stomped their feet and roared into the air in celebration. At the same time, Leon turned to his retainers.

Choosing a commander of his new knights wasn’t easy. He wanted them to come from his retinue, but nearly all were deserving in some way. However, given the kind of order he wanted the Tempest Knights to be, he quickly narrowed the choices down to those of his followers from the Bull Kingdom. If he wanted them to be knights, then he wanted the commander to have been a knight themselves.

Alix he knew he could trust, and her competence wasn’t in question. This would’ve been her first command, though, and he wanted someone with more experience to be the overall commander.

Marcus was another easy choice, but Marcus he felt was more suited to be a general than a commander of an elite group of knights.

Likewise, he felt like Gaius’ talents would be somewhat wasted as a knight commander. From the conversations he had with the former nobleman whenever they played keeps—a fairly regular occurrence when they could find the time—he didn’t think Gaius would’ve even accepted the appointment should Leon have asked.

That left Alcander. He was brash and aggressive, but charismatic and intelligent. He didn’t quite have the patience Marcus did, but he was loyal and strong, and while he hadn’t won himself any great honors, he had at least some command experience from the Bull Kingdom. While nearly all of the men and women selected would have more, Leon figured, Alcander wouldn’t be any kind of pushover. With him in command, he could even have Alix act as his second-in-command without too much worry.

Such was his thought process, and both Marcus and Gaius agreed when Leon floated his thoughts to them. He’d gone to all of his people to ask their opinions, and most of them agreed with his decision, though Cassandra demurred since she didn’t know his people that well yet, and Red didn’t care enough to offer an opinion.

So, when he offered the position to both Alcander and Alix, they’d enthusiastically accepted. When Leon nodded to them, they both stepped forward, Alcander a step ahead of Alix.

“These will be your new commanders!” Leon shouted. “Unless it directly counters my orders or goes against regulations I implement, they are to be obeyed in all things!”

With that, he stepped back as Alcander stepped forward. Gone was any trace of levity in the man’s face. It would’ve been apparent to a blind man that he was taking this appointment seriously as he did like Leon and looked around at the hundred soon-to-be Tempest Knights.

“We will now swear your oaths!” he roared. “This will be your last chance to back out! From the moment you are confirmed as Tempest Knights, only death or retirement will see you leave this new order’s ranks!”

As agreed, Alcander paused for several long seconds, and Leon was greatly encouraged to see that not a single one of the selectees turned and left.

“Very well!” Alcander continued when it became apparent no one was leaving. “Let’s begin!”

He glanced at Alix as she stepped forward and rendered a new salute. She drew her blade and, with the hilt clutched in her fist, she brought her fist to her chest with the blade pointing down.

“We are the blades that guard our King against his enemies!” she declared. “We are his will! We are the flash of his lightning and the thunder that heralds his arrival!”

Leon could feel his cheeks reddening as his former squire proceeded. He’d allowed her and Alcander to workshop the oaths the Tempest Knights were to take, and he’d thought they were a little overdramatic, but he’d been assured that a little drama and ceremony was a good thing for something like this. Helped to give the order its identity, Alcander had insisted.

Still, Leon couldn’t help but feel some embarrassment as the oaths continued.

Alcander had all of the selectees kneel while rendering Alix’s salute, and then speak his words.

“I swear my life and abilities to support and defend the Storm King, the descendent of the Thunderbird!”

The selectees repeated him, their voices seeming to echo in the courtyard despite how many people were watching.

“I will face my King’s enemies with bravery and resolve! I will obey my King’s orders faithfully! I will conduct myself according to the standards and regulations of the Tempest Knights!”

It had taken some time, but Leon and his people had, with some input from the local elders, thrown together a short several-page-long book of regulations for how he wanted his new knights to conduct themselves. He was under no impression that it was even close to being done—or that it would ever truly be complete—but establishing a baseline standard was important to him.

In effect, he wanted his knights to fight bravely and honorably, though not so much as to purposefully hamper themselves when fighting against an enemy. He wanted practical but not psychopathic warriors. He wanted men and women beside him, in no small way representing him and advertising his ideals, who he could regard warmly and with pride. If he allowed mass murderers or other such war criminals into the ranks of his Tempest Knights, he would only tarnish his reputation and lose support.

“By the winged grace, I do swear this oath!” Alcander finished, and the selectees echoed. With that, Alcander smiled. “You knelt as men and women of the Ten Tribes! Though that has not changed, you are now more than that! Rise as Tempest Knights!”

The selectees sprang to their feet and, following Alcander’s lead, turned to Leon, raised their weapons in the air, and roared.

As much as he felt more than a little awkward about the ceremony, Leon couldn’t help but smile in pride. It was a relatively small order, but he now had knights to call his own. He was starting to feel more and more like a proper King.

---

Complete disgust filled him. He couldn’t imagine mating with anyone so below him in station, let alone a barbarian of all people. He couldn’t even entertain the idea of having children with someone so ill-bred without having to hold back his vomit.

It was with such wrath and disgust filling him that Hector, accompanied by Linda and one of her Inquisitors, walked as fast as dignity would allow through the halls of the Thunderer’s palace. It didn’t them long—the Thunderer didn’t have a large estate despite his status, and neither was it particularly opulent.

They found the Thunderer in one of his rare moments of solitude. When their leader’s guards announced them and the Thunderer allowed them entry, they found him looking up from some paperwork, a look of fatigue and annoyance clear on his face.

“What is it that has you storming through my home at such a time?” he asked from behind his desk. He gestured to a few chairs in front of him.

His office wasn’t large, mostly reserved for his private work. Hector had never been inside of it as the Thunderer liked to conduct business at his offices adjacent to the Elder Council’s gathering hall. Yet so great were his emotions that Hector barely even processed anything he was seeing.

“That bastard that would shackle us!” he sputtered. “The false god upheld by the perfidious Jaguars! He has revealed himself! His true nature is now bare for all to see!”

“Speak clearly,” the Thunderer demanded even as his pen glided across some document in front of him. “What is it that Leon has done that has upset you so?”

“He has a wife from the barbarians across the sea,” Linda cut in before Hector could say anything.

In response, Hector practically shouted, “Not just any common-born whore from across the sea! No! A daughter of one of the arrogant vandals who call themselves ‘Emperor’!”

The Thunderer finally turned his attention fully away from his work and focused on his three guests. Most of all, however, he focused on Linda.

“Explain further.”

Hector felt his face growing red with indignation but he held his tongue.

“My agent,” she said with a nod to the Inquisitor with her, “heard that Leon Raime introduced his latest wife to those who’ve sworn themselves to him. She is a Princess of the Sacred Golden Empire.”

“Elina, was it?” the Thunderer asked, addressing the Inquisitor.

“Yes, Lord Thunder,” she confirmed.

“Is this news accurate?”

“It is.”

The Thunderer’s eyes glazed over as he leaned back in his chair, apparently lost in thought.

After a moment of silence, he leaned forward again and asked, “What has the response to this been? How have the Tribes taken it?”

“Not as they should!” Hector spat. “To consort with such deceitful creatures as the barbarians is an affront to all we stand for! It’s a slap in the face to all our Ancestors!”

“They have taken it well, as far as I was able to ascertain,” Elina explained as Hector paused in his castigation. “There have been some whispers of discontent, but far from where Leon Raime himself or any of the highest elders can hear. It seems they’re tolerating the union, if not entirely accepting it.”

The Thunderer hummed in thought.

“Were it anyone else,” Linda speculated, “I think they would’ve thrown them out, if not outright killed them.”

“Bringing an enemy of such stature to our island is treason!” Hector practically shouted. “This should be shouted from every rooftop! Leon Raime has betrayed us all! He who would proclaim himself King has thrown his lot in with our enemy!”

“Hector,” the Thunderer whispered, yet his voice shot through Hector like ice, “please, I need you calm. Getting so worked up aids no one.”

Hector scowled. “Is this not the sort of thing to be worked up about? You attested to Leon’s honor when you returned from the Lion Tribe even though he stole the support of the Tribe out from under us! What now? He has shown himself to be dishonorable and unfilial! What would his Ancestors think, seeing him fucking one of those who’d left his Clan in such a diminished state?”

“I’d be willing to bet they wouldn’t think much, being dead,” the Thunderer drily stated.

“Should we take your reaction to mean you don’t care that much?” Linda asked.

The Thunderer was silent for a long time. When he answered, he did so with a measured tone and even cadence. “I feel some insult. I can understand why he might resort to such measures. But to throw his lot in so overtly with our enemies…”

“It boggles the mind,” Hector finished as the Thunderer trailed off. “It offends all sensibilities! It spits in the face of all that we have sacrificed in the past eighty-thousand years! That he would lay claim to Kingship over us when he fucks our enemies!”

“This can be used,” Linda said. “Should this news become more widespread, then the other Tribes may swear themselves to you instead of him. It may even sway those Tribes who declared for him to change sides if their people turn against him.”

“That will be weak,” the Thunderer said with a sigh. “Anyone else and it might stick. But he is a scion of the Thunderbird Clan. Not enough people will hold his choice of wives against him with that in mind.”

“But some will,” Linda insisted.

“Spread it,” the Thunderer commanded despite his stated misgivings. “Hopefully, it will convince enough people of the folly of allowing Kings back into power over us.”

“And what else?” Hector pushed. “What else has he been hiding? What else are the Jaguars planning? What else have we assumed they won’t do? They have a marriage alliance with barbarians! We should move now and wipe them off the map before they can endanger Kataigida more!”

“We’re not making the first move,” the Thunderer insisted.

“You would leave us vulnerable to whatever sneak attack they’re planning?” Hector shot back.

“Have you proof that they’re planning an attack?” the Thunderer riposted. “Any real sign that they wish us harm?”

Hector glared at Linda and Elina.

“Don’t look at us, we have nothing of the sort,” Linda growled.

Turning back to the Thunderer, Hector said, “Leon Raime has shown himself untrustworthy enough, seeking to make himself our King while allying with our enemies at the same time. But the Jaguars are another story. I trusted them once, and they stabbed me in the back. Give them enough of a chance and they will do so again. The moment they get the idea that they can defeat us militarily, they will try. We must strike the first blow if we are to contain this threat and protect Kataigida from civil war!”

The Thunderer didn’t even hesitate with his response. “No. I will not order the deaths of my fellow countrymen.”

“They don’t consider themselves such,” Hector warned. “The Jaguars want to remain separate. They don’t see us as brothers and sisters. They will attack. To allow them their chance is the height of foolishness!”

“I have said all I will on the matter,” the Thunderer growled as his aura began to be laced with killing intent, making Hector’s heart race and his knees grow weak.

“Fine,” Hector said. “I will continue to provide you with my advice. What you do with it is up to you.”

‘… But I will do what I must to see to the safety of our people,’ he thought even as he smiled at the Thunderer. It was becoming increasingly clear to him that only he had what it took to protect his people. Only he had the will to make that hard choice.

He would not allow the Jaguars to win. He would never allow Lysander to win. He would see his former friend’s blood on his blade, for he knew that was what was needed to end this charade. Like a good Tiger, though, he would have to wait for his opportunity…