Liar King (Tower of Babel Book 2) Read online

  Chapter Four

  In a real video game, the speech would have been part of a cut-scene, accompanied by a swell of intense music as the crowd built itself into a frenzy of cheers and a grand alliance was forged. In reality, the line was met with distrust and unease.

  Would it be dangerous? What did the Duke want them to do, enlist? Such questions passed from person to person as the Duke stood awkwardly at the front of the room. He'd obviously expected a different reaction, and for just a brief moment it looked like the young man might cry, before he tightened his expression, firmed his resolve and continued to speak. "Who among you is the strongest!"

  There was a little back and forth among various groups, no doubt trying to guess if they were the top dogs in the room, and who among them was the best of the best. Cayden didn't have any such problem; he knew his party contained the strongest.

  “Right here.” He shouted, gesturing to Silver with the index fingers of both hands.

  The Duke studied her for a moment; young eyes narrowed as he shook his head. "No, not her. She has much potential power, but her power is restricted at the moment. Next to her."

  “Hmm?” Sarah said softly as Cayden turned his fingers to point at her. “Oh no, nuh uh.”

  “My eyes are not wrong on this.” The Duke replied. He was still studying her, and this time there was no mistaking the soft, incredibly thin line that glowed around the grey skin at the edges of his eyes.

  “Your eyes are not wrong, but I want no part of this M'lord. I'm retired.” Sarah replied.

  “Did you just call him M'lord?” Celia asked quietly.

  "N-no," Sarah replied.

  “You totally did, didn't she Shifty?” They rogue nodded to the question, grinning ear from ear. The grin only grew as Sarah attempted to surreptitiously swat at the laughing blonde.

  “You don't even know what I would ask of y-”

  “I'm just a waitress, m... sir.” Sarah pre-emptively countered in her most measured tone. “There are better selections. I promise you.”

  “You then.” The Duke said, gesturing this time to Celia.

  “Me?” The girl said, surprised.

  She wasn't the only one. The look of shock from both Cayden and Shifty set her skin blushing, the girl unable to meet their eyes for several long seconds before she added, softly. “I've been grinding in the evenings. I didn't want you guys to feel like I was just dead weight.”

  Before either man could voice their objection to the absurdity of her worry, or their annoyance at being left in the dark, Elazio cut in once again. “Yes, you. I would offer you th-”

  “Sorry. But no.” Celia replied.

  “You don't even know what you are being offered.” The Duke replied with some irritation.

  “I know. But Cayden is my party leader. If you are offering us something, offer it to him.”

  The Duke nodded, but instead of turning his attention to Cayden he instead focused to the far end of the room where a single young man lingered. “You then, sir?”

  The man said nothing for a moment, only turning his head once the sudden lack of conversation became notable. When he realized he was being addressed, he laughed a nervous laugh, snapped his fingers to close out of whatever display had been distracting him and turned to face the Duke.

  He was a handsome man, that much would have been clear to Cayden even if Celia and Sarah weren't all but drooling open-mouthed at the sight of him. He must have been a late arrival, because Cayden didn't recognize him from his earlier look around, and he would have been hard to miss. For one thing, he was tall, standing two or three inches over Cayden, though he was equally wide in the shoulders. His body appeared to be built out of nothing but the muscle in a way that would have looked normal in an MMO but was rather out of sorts for the typical player in Babel.

  He dressed to compliment his chiseled good looks, the top button of his tunic open to reveal a bit of the broad chest beneath, while his long dark hair was pulled back from his face in a loose pony-tail save for wherever a few stray strands fell to tickle his jaw line. He was among the rooms only unarmed occupants, someone who was apparently not entirely rattled by the imminent danger.

  “I'm afraid I'm going to have to pass as well.” The man replied in a firm voice that would have suited a man a decade older than his eighteen, or perhaps nineteen years. “Solo player, probably better to give your investment to someone with some allies.” He nodded toward Celia who almost swooned at the attention. “Girl seems to have the right idea.”

  The Duke was visibly furious, perhaps one step away from a full-on childish tantrum. Of course, a tantrum was probably more appropriate for a child his age than many of the things he'd already said and done. "And you, Cayden, was it?"

  “It is.” He replied.

  "I offer you the temporary rank of Field Marshall," Elazio said with as much gravitas as he could muster, given the situation. “To be charged with the Defence and rebuilding of Bastion, with five hundred Elan soldiers under your command.”

  Cayden's eyes widened at the offer. He'd never considered himself even a particularly useful armchair general, let alone someone who would be expected to lead soldiers into battle. Yet before he could even begin to formulate a reply, a rough voice lashed out from across the chamber. "You entrust him with five hundred men?! Are you mad? He is a child!"

  It was the woman from before; he knew even before he looked. The leader of the Toy Soldiers. Considering the context, he couldn't exactly blame her for her anger, even if his own swelled at her words.

  "A child who is stronger than you, apparently." The Duke shot back with cold rebuke. It wasn't hard to see precisely what part of her complaint the child-ruler had a problem with.

  “Higher level, perhaps.” The woman continued unabated, reaching for the hilt of her sword. “I'll be happy to lay him low if that will change your mind.”

  The threat, even one directed at a player rather than their liege, was enough to spur Elazio's bodyguards into action. The four men closed ranks around the young sovereign, their weapons at the ready in a way that gave even the trained soldier second thoughts. Ultimately, however, it was the Duke who defused the situation. He waved his hands, urging away his guards with one and directing the woman's hand away from the hilt of her weapon with the other. "We have more than enough dangers to focus on outside these walls. He is not the only one I would offer such a position to. Someone will need to lead the defense of Islo itself, after all.”

  The implicit offer seemed to mollify her, lessening the overall tension long enough for the Duke to continue to distribute his offers and titles. In the end, five players, Cayden included, ended up being given titles. The distribution fell roughly along the same sort of splits he'd noted when he'd first arrived, with no group or party being assigned more than a single task to manage.

  The commander of the Toy Soldiers, Asch, was named Captain of the Islo Watch, expanding the ranks of her twenty-five players to include a number ten times that in Elan guardsmen. The two guilds turned out to be the Lords of the Edge and Goon Squad. Each was given the title of Knight-Captain, a keep with a terribly familiar name, Crossroads and De'Arnise respectively, and a hundred soldiers to manage and defend the countryside. Finally, the corporate guild turned out to be Celes Metals employees, all of whom seemed more than happy to be put in charge of a small defensive outpost between Islo and Sunè and the fifty men that came along with it, even if their leader balked at being a mere lieutenant.

  “We have been told that the bloodline families have a common device to communicate with one another at great distances. Is that correct?” The Duke asked in the aftermath of distributing the various titles. After receiving nods or verbal agreement from each of his newly minted officers, he continued. “I expect you to use it. I know you are diverse, and most of you are not soldiers by nature. Many of you would balk at being ordered, but we can ill afford feuds.”

  His look to Asch and Cayden could not have been more pointed if it had come
at the tip of a spear. Even so, the toy soldier did not attempt to bridge the gap between them. It fell to Cayden to walk the short distance, his hand outstretched. The soldier lingered far longer than was polite before taking his grip, her rough fingers squeezing his hand to the point he worried she'd start doing HP damage if she didn't let up.

  "Excellent. Our staff will provide you with all the necessary information." The Duke turned to leave, his bodyguards forming in tight alongside him as he added, almost offhandedly. "Field Marshal, a word."

  "Hmm. Daddy's calling." Asch said with a smirk, finally releasing his hand. "Keep you and yours out of our way, and we'll tolerate you. Boy."

  Cayden longed to reply, but a combination of the Duke's brisk departure and a lack of a witty response made him hold his tongue. Instead, he smiled, a grin that twisted her face into a rictus of irritation that persisted long after he'd set off to try and catch up to the child ruler.

  "Sir," Cayden said as he fell into step beside Elazio, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it. “Or... is there something I should be calling you?”

  “In formal situations, Duke, Sire, or any number of proper titles would be appropriate. In private, Elazio, or El will suffice.” The young man replied, offering Cayden a genuine smile. After an audience where the boy had been forced to keep a stern or impassive expression, it was almost unnerving to see a normal, childish grin. “Cayden is fine?”

  “Yeah. No one calls me Cay though.”

  "I'll endeavor to remember that," El replied.

  They walked beside one another in silence for much of the corridor, the sound of clanking metal and his bodyguard's booted steps filling the void left by the absence of their words. As they reached the corner, and it became clear that the Duke wasn't going to continue, Cayden spoke once again. "You asked to speak to me?"

  "Yes." The boy nodded. "Forgive me; I just wanted to collect myself."

  “No problem. That had to have been rough, especially at your age.”

  The child ruler looked up sharply, eyes as grey as his skin fiercely catching hold of Cayden's. He didn't say anything, just kept that gaze steadily on Cayden until at last the young man relented, holding his hands up in surrender. “Forget I said anything.”

  El laughed, the humor flooding his eyes so quickly that it was clear he'd been on the verge of laughter through most of his staring contest. “You don't get the throne in Islo by being weak, even as a child.”

  Cayden frowned. He knew the history of Babel, especially the lower levels, and the sad fact was that the way you get the throne in Islo was by being explicitly designed to fill that role.

  Babel was so real that sometimes it was hard to remember that all the lore, all the quests, even all the Elan were as much fabrications as the physical tower itself. The event might have a player based trigger, but the actions Elazio had just taken? That was programming, wasn't it? A thousand soldiers divided so every significant group of players had some stake in the war aspect that appeared to be the event's gimmick. The Wardens weren't somehow corrupted by the Liar King; they were created solely to be part of this event.

  The thought made him shudder. There were Elan Rights activists for a reason. Apart from skin, eye or hair color, most Elan were functionally indistinguishable from humans. But if they were designed specifically for things like this, to take specific actions in regards to a pre-defined event, well that made them different from a human, didn't it? Did they even have free will at that point?

  Elazio was staring at him. A thought for another time.

  "Probably not," Cayden admitted at last. "So what did you need?"

  “Hmm? Oh, yes.” The kid laughed, halting in his tracks. “You've never commanded troops in battle, have you?”

  “Does Starcraft count?”

  “I-”

  “Don't get the reference. Don't worry it h-”

  “No, I get it. I just don't think it applies.” Elazio interrupted.

  “Wait. What?” Cayden asked.

  “I'm royalty. People constantly try to curry favor with me. About a year ago someone brought me one of your 'Lap-Tops' and showed me how to play a few games on it.”

  An NPC playing a videogame. Pretty sure the Developer didn't program him to do that.

  “That... is actually kind of cool. But yeah, no. I don't have any experience.”

  Elazio nodded. “I expected as much. I will be sending one of my most trusted men along with you to Bastion, to serve as your military advisor. Would this be amenable to you?”

  “Absolutely. All the help I can get.”

  “Then you'll be accepting Roberta's help as well.” The Duke said with a self-satisfied smile.

  “Roberta?”

  “My lead engineer. She will serve you in that role, as well as a civic role as mayor of the town. Assuming you decide to put effort into repopulating the walled town around the keep itself?”

  “Honestly hadn't given it much thought. Still trying to soak this in.”

  “Soak quickly.” The young boy replied. “Your task is most crucial of all.”

  Cayden frowned. “I assume you're going to explain why a keep I've never heard of needs more defenders than your city?”

  “Perceptive.” Elazio mused, joining Cayden in his worried expression. “A moment more.”

  Their path carried them through a set of large double doors into an opulent library that made Cayden wince in spite of himself, then through another set of equally opulent doors into a much smaller chamber. A man awaited them there, standing at full attention in heavy plate. He was perhaps the most ridiculous Elan Cayden had yet laid eyes on. His navy blue skin might have looked alright on such a severe man, but the short crop of hot pink hair atop his head would have been absurd even if it wasn't matched by the similarly offensively bright waxed mustache.

  It was a small miracle Cayden didn't break down laughing at the sight of him. Was he a glitch? Or had the Developer just randomized the colors of the various Elan and this poor bastard got the short end of the stick.

  The soldier stood in front of a mirrored table. No, not a mirrored table, but a mirror table. It was nearly ten feet long, and four feet across at its widest point, but the dusky purple surface was unmistakable. A display table, a mirror like the one in his back pocket, though writ quite a bit larger.

  “Valserys.” The Duke nodded as they entered, his composure tightening once more as the boy left and the Duke returned.

  “My Lord.” The man responded without hesitation. “I have prepared the surface as you requested. Is this the one?”

  "Not my first, second, or even third choice," Elazio replied, clearly fighting down a smirk. “But he will do. Cayden, this is Valserys del Teremetsio. He is the military attaché I spoke to you about.”

  "Pleasure," Cayden said, stammering the last half of the word as Valserys chose the same moment to speak the same words. The two exchanged looks and a hint of a smirk before the Duke continued.

  “Show him.”

  The soldier reached out and stroked the edge of the mirror with a gloved finger, causing its surface to glow with life. Displayed upon it was what appeared to be an aerial view of the entirety of Babel's second-floor, though it quickly zoomed in to focus on the most critical areas. Some had their names written plainly on the screen, while Cayden knew from experience that touching others would give him additional information. It was, after all, the same map he could pull up on his mirror.

  The only thing that seemed out of the ordinary to Cayden was a glowing circle on the far end of the map, miles removed from Islo, Sunè or any of the other locations he knew well.

  “This is the area where we believe the Tomb of the Liar King to be located," Valserys explained. “Even now we have scribes and scouts endeavoring to confirm and narrow down the specific location, but we are fairly certain that our initial estimate is accurate to within roughly thirty miles.”

  “Why do you think that?” Cayden asked.

  “Our initial estimates were based
on information contained in the Ducal libraries. Recent events have confirmed the general location.” The general touched his mustache as he looked to the Duke, as if uncertain about precisely how much detail he should give, continuing only after a nod from the young boy. “Two villages in the area were found burned to the ground before we lost contact with our scouts. Given estimates of the land speed of the Warden Army, we have a fair amount of confidence that this is the location of the tomb."

  “So the plan is what, exactly? Go kick their door down?”

  The pink-haired soldier shook his head. “With everything we know, the military consensus is that a frontal attack would be suicidal. The Wardens were charged with suppressing a rival to the Great Emperor himself. As a military force they must be mighty indeed.”

  “Our plan, as it stands, is to defend our lands while we discover the cause of their awakening.” The Duke explained. “If we can rectify what has disturbed them, it should mollify the army and allow them to return to their slumber.”

  “And if we can't?” Cayden cocked his head to one side.

  The Duke smiled wanly. “My scholars tell me that the full army is reputed to number in the thousands. Though even that is not our largest concern.”

  On cue, Valserys touched a point on the map. It sat with both Sunè and Islo between it and the Tomb of the Liar King, with a glowing callout on the map labeling it as 'Bastion.'

  “We cannot be sure of the Warden's intentions, so we have to assume the worst, that the Wardens believe they have failed entirely in their task to restrain the Liar King.” Elazio swallowed hard, drawing a path along the map with his finger as he spoke. “If this is the case, then the Wardens will muster, fighting off any threats as they gather in strength before finally making for Bastion.”

  "Why there?" Cayden asked though he suspected he had an idea of the answer.

  "The keep is home to the final sanction; the last recourse should all else fail. The Warrior."

  Valserys brushed his fingers along the edge of the screen once again to show an illustration of a figure. It looked childlike at first glance, curled up into a fetal ball. But the longer Cayden looked, the worse it became. The figure was stone, a soldier rather than a child, one clad in ornate oriental armor. What had looked like toys at first blush were buildings, siege equipment and full grown men and women. It was a giant stone soldier.