Chapter 50

The sound of thousands of Binorians exclaiming in thralls swarmed by confusion, shock and fright sounded beautiful to Ishar. He'd heard so much about Binorians, about how they were above the other races of the realm and how the Gods had chosen them to serve as an example of what was perfect and in alignment to their will. To Ishar, the Binorians looked like a bunch of cry babies. It was good to see that the realm's perception of them had been greatly exaggerated.

 

He got bored quickly, there is only so much wailing and screaming that a man can take before it became tedious. Ishar decided to take in the sights. Around him crammed thatched houses made of mud but as he proceeded deeper into the city under the escort of the soldiers the houses morphed in both shape and quality. The mud houses became those of grey stone with flat roofs of stone but upon further venturing the grey color was replaced by more vibrant hues and tiled roofs. The houses also became less congested as spaces between dwellings grew the further they traversed.

 

The palace loomed ahead, painted in brilliant white and surrounded by white walls. All the houses around the palace faced it and were all large and of a similar shade of white. Not a spot of dust could be seen on the ground as the entire area close to the palace was paved with dark cobblestones. The soldiers came to a halt right outside the large steel gates of the palace that were similar in color to the cobblestones. The gates opened and the Prince lying on a stretcher was carried in while behind him the Commander and the Princess trotted in on their steeds.

 

Ishar stood in the midst of the Legion outside the gate for half an hour. The excitement he'd felt as he took in the sights of the marvelous Binoria had slowly faded with each passing second, now he felt like lying down on the cobblestones and groaning at the discomfort brought about by sheer boredom.

 

"I always thought Binoria would blow my mind, you know?" Ishar addressed the soldier standing to his right. "It sort of did, a little, with the song and dance but that quickly vanished and became screams and wails which aren't that exciting, you get?" The soldier had a pale pinched face with tufts of brown hair sprouting on his head. He looked uncomfortable in his red armor and his discomfort increased as he visibly struggled to ignore Ishar.

 

"I guess the structures your people have built aren't at all that bad and I should feel privileged with the view the city provides but there's only so much interest one might have in structures regardless of their size and majesty." Ishar waved at the towering palace. "I've stared at that for more than thirty minutes and I have to admit that the thrill of it has waned." The soldier shuffled his weight from foot to foot and looked to his right, his face turning away from Ishar. "When will this Nula Anyl thing start? I want to get it over with and head back to Talisi." Ishar pressed on.

 

"Oh, there will be no coming back from the Nula Anyl," a voice spoke from behind him. Ishar turned to meet eyes with Orgeeg. "You will meet your end and I shall take delight in seeing it happen."

 

Ishar smirked. "With that attitude you'll never score with the Princess." Ishar's smirk widened as Orgeeg's face contorted with rage. "Women like a sensitive man, you know, someone who can listen to their bickering with a lovely understanding smile in place. Someone who can offer warmth and love and whose very presence offers more comfort than a bed furnished with thick layers of fine silk... "

 

"What is your point?" Orgeeg interjected, his voice sounding harsh.

 

"My point is," Ishar continued, taking note of the circle of Legionnaires whose attention was on him. "You're not a sensitive man Orgeeg, you have sworn to feed my body to crows and vultures which is very insensitive if you ask me. You look at me like you want to stick knives into my belly button, your lips always peel back from your mouth when you address me. Gods man! How do you expect to get the Princess's attention with that murderous attitude? Heed my advice man, you need to tone down the tough man exterior." Ishar's smile faded to a thin line "It's done nothing for you but got you kicked in the balls."

 

Orgeeg placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and leaned forward to cover the distance between himself and Ishar but the Legion abruptly parted leaving him and Ishar on a forged path between the Legionnaires. Orgeeg's surprise at this was overcome by his military training and he quickly brought his hand off his blade and stood at attention behind Ishar. The two of them stood in the created path cutting through the Legion and Ishar looked around him while portraying faint surprise.

 

Ishar turned to look at the palace. Through the cleared path Ishar could see the open gate where the Commander of the Legions stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Beside him were two pale bald men dressed in white garments. They looked like twins and their presence seemed to unnerve the soldiers closest to them. With a motion of the Commander's hand the two men started a pacey march towards Ishar through the path created by the Legion.

 

They moved as if through a meadow and not a wall of soldiers. They took no notice of the soldiers flanking them who shuffled nervously as they passed. Their quick strides drew them nearer and Ishar could see that their icy blue eyes were fixed entirely on him. The two white garment clad men came to a halt before Ishar, they towered over him and were larger in bulk.

 

"His knuckles are bruised." The first man to Ishar's right said.

 

"Could be from an earlier fight." Answered the second.

 

"He supposedly ripped Desan's armor apart."

 

"His anatomy suggests that he lacks the strength to do so."

 

"Or maybe the armor was flawed."

 

"Maybe."

 

Both men turned their attention in the direction of Orgeeg. They gave slight nods of their heads and Orgeeg returned the nod. Ishar's head turned from side to side as he tried to grasp what was going on. "All you've heard is true," Orgeeg said. "He should be treated with extreme caution."

 

"What level of caution?" The man on the left asked.

 

"Eleven." Orgeeg answered. Both men started laughing at Orgeeg's response and Ishar could see Orgeeg's jaw clench.

 

"He looks incapable of fitting in the eleventh level, bones are too brittle with a weakness about the shoulders and a languid stance" The man to the left said. Ishar took note of how both men on top of being bald also didn't have eyebrows.

 

"Yes, his stance speaks much. He has no training in any form of combat and his bearing is mild." Said the one on the right.

 

"He bested me." Orgeeg answered.

 

"Perhaps your rank is not befitting." The one on the left said. Orgeeg balled his fists but all it did was make both men break into creepy smiles at the same time.

 

"By our judgment he is a level one." The man on the right said. He took out a black bag from out of nowhere and started to bring it over Ishar's head.

 

Ishar leaped out of reach. "What are you doing?" He asked

 

"We're covering your face so we may take you before King Vayin Vigon. A level one requires no further precaution other than the hindrance of sight." The man to the left said.

 

"According to us, you are way beneath the level of someone we, as the senior most inquisitors, could deem as dangerous." The man on the right said.

 

"So there is no need to waste time with rendering you incapable of causing the King mild discomfort by attempting to harm him." The one on the left said.

 

"Because you're already incapable of causing him harm." They both said in unison. The one on the left reached out and grabbed Ishar's arms and the other man brought the bag down over Ishar's head. Ishar's vision was cut off as everything went dark, he could not see a thing as he was led into the palace but it was okay with him for the bag also prevented those around him from seeing the smile on his face.

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