The Grey Ones
The Visitors: I

RICHMOND

The Duke of Noxborough never thought he’d see the day when he had to greet the Grey Warlord himself. The day was dreary, and the situation was dire. A cold, northern wind had swept over the shores, and the ocean was restless. A storm was brewing. It was uncommon this time of year—usually, early summer was a time of sunshine and stillness. These uninvited visitors had certainly angered the Builder.

The Winter Fort, the fiercest coastal stronghold north of the Dawning River, had been unlawfully claimed by the grey giants. Not only did they claim land that wasn’t theirs, but in doing so, they also scared away or hindered important merchant vessels from docking in the harbour. The Grey Ones, however, did not seem to have any plans on leaving. They had come to negotiate Lord Arlington’s submission, they said.

Why the grey beasts suddenly threatened with war was beyond the Duke; they had spent so many centuries on their godforsaken island far beyond the Winter Sea, and never shown any true interest in the lands of Edred. The mere thought that he would submit to their ludicrous rules was laughable. But Richmond knew his army was hardly an army at all, and he’d better accommodate the beast-men.

This was a delicate matter that required cunning and guile. That was why he hadn’t sent his forces to drive the invaders off just yet, but the Warlord would soon be forcing his hand. He had persisted that the Warlord would come to his castle at Fairgarden, but the invitation was declined. The Duke himself had to come to the harbour.

Rain was imminent. Richmond wanted this done as soon as possible so that he could return to Fairgarden before the heavens opened their gates. His advisor, Garret, attempted to instruct him how to properly greet and speak to the Grey Ones—or the Kas, as the advisor opted to call them—but Richmond found the whole notion ridiculous. Why would he, a Duke and descendant of the great and ancient line of Nornish kings, bow to a foreign warlord, an intruder? Why would he have to submit to their savage ways of life? Did they not have enough? Why would they want a city like Noxborough when the whole south was filled with lands richer than the harsh north?

When the grey demons first appeared on the shores of Nornest a few decades prior, they claimed they were ready to revive a friendship long gone. People were terrified; suddenly, the monsters from their darkest nightmares stepped into the light and proved to be of flesh and blood. Legends did, however, tell of a strange and brief alliance with the Grey Ones centuries back, and the stories were indeed thrilling—but those were only stories spread by greedy merchants to earn some coin.

Even if the stories might be true, Richmond found it difficult to believe that the demons that landed on their shores all those years ago came with peaceful intentions—and the visitors that now occupied the docks in Noxborough did not seem much kinder. It was as though they had stepped straight out from the Netherworld.

A familiar dread crawled under the Duke’s skin. It was the same fear he used to feel when he was a boy, listening to the horror stories about the Demons of the North. The beasts were said to hail from beyond the White Void, far beyond the reach of the Builder. These were no ambassadors of a peaceful people—these were warriors. Killers. Richmond felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck as he made his way through the encampment towards the large tent in the middle of the fort’s courtyard. He ensured that his guards were close to him, ready to fight.

They were greeted by a noticeably smaller Grey One who bowed deeply. “Vahanan, Lord Richmond of House Arlington, Duke of Noxborough,” said the grey man smoothly. “Let me introduce our Vasaath, our general and military leader.”

The beast backed away while still in a deep bow, and out of the tent strode an enormous Grey One. He was taller than the rest of them, with yellow eyes that echoed death and carnage.

Richmond didn’t notice that he had backed away until he slammed into his guards.

“Duke.” The Grey One’s voice was dark and resonating, lacking any amusement or comity.

“Warlord.” Richmond tried to straighten, tried to look unfazed, as pearls of sweat quickly formed on his forehead.

“You have come to submit.” It wasn’t a question, but neither was it an outright statement.

Richmond took a deep breath. “I have not come to submit. I have not come to yield. This is my city, and you have no right to take it by force.”

The general stood stoically, but then he moved with an ease that seemed unnatural for such a large creature. “I don’t think you’ve quite understood our demands. We are not here to take the city by force—we are here to embrace it as it submits to us. We have come to restore order to this chaos, this disparity.”

“You have never been interested in Noxborough before,” said Richmond. “How come you’ve suddenly decided to invade?”

The Grey One clenched his jaw in annoyance and placed his hands behind his back. “You might have forgotten our common history, but we have not.”

Richmond raised a brow and glanced at his advisor, but Garret seemed to keep his attention on the Grey One. Surely, he thought, the Warlord couldn’t possibly be referring to legends.

“The war that tore this country apart centuries ago still lingers. The tormented souls of this city have cried out to us, and we have heard them,” continued the Warlord. “For centuries, we believed that the people of the mainland were ill-equipped to understand our philosophies and receive our teachings. Now, after years and years of awakening the people of these cursed lands, we understand that you are ready to receive us. The land is ready to heal.”

Without being able to help it, Richmond snorted out a laugh. “Ready to heal?” But he immediately composed himself. “I believe there might be a peaceful solution to this that neither involves you annexing the city nor me, well, submitting.”

The Warlord furrowed his dark brows. “And what do you have in mind?”

The question, even though it should have been anticipated, caught Richmond by surprise. He had nothing in mind, except for a long list of very inappropriate words he wanted to yell at the large creature before him.

Luckily, Garret stepped in. “My lord, perhaps it is best if we draw up a few suggestions for you to consider, as a peace treaty? Perhaps we could be able to offer you a piece of land to set up a religious establishment? The Duke must negotiate with the High Council as well. It might take some time, but you are more than welcome to stay here for the time being.”

The general, the Vasaath, as he was called, turned a glaring eye to the advisor. Then, after a few moments of intense staring, he nodded.

“Very well,” said the Grey One. “But I would like you to send me an ambassador, a highborn, who can teach me the history and the ways of your people, and whom I can, in return, attempt to teach our ways. That way I will know if you are truly ready to join us—” He looked at the Duke. “—or if the land needs to be cleansed from you, the corruption, once and for all.”

Richmond wanted to shout at the large man, tell him that he was a fool—an arrogant fool who thought they were “the corruption”. How dared these grey monsters come to his city and tell him that he was the corruption?

Before he had time to lose his temper, Garret bowed to the general and said, “An ambassador will be sent down here by tomorrow at noon. We must be reassured, of course, that our ambassador will be well received and respected, and that you will hold off any attacks until our suggestions have been presented.”

The general glared at the two men with an unfazed expression. “Your ambassador will be safe with us. No harm will come to whomever you send as long as he is our guest and under our tutorage. We will also refrain from any attacks during your time of contemplation.”

Garret looked at Richmond for confirmation, and when the Duke gave a slight nod, Garret turned back to the Vasaath and bowed. “Excellent.”

Looking down his nose, the Grey One said, “Parthanan, humans,” as he dismissingly waved his hand at them, and returned to his tent.

Richmond and Garret were ushered to leave. Two burly Grey Ones saw them to the gates of the encampment, and just as the rain started to fall, Richmond and Garret entered their carriage. The four guards that accompanied them sat upon their horses and the party returned to Fairgarden. Back inside the castle, Richmond barked all the obscenities he had kept to himself in the encampment.

“Who does he think he is?” he growled. “That fucking beast-man thinks that he can come to my city and demand my submission? He thinks he can frighten me? He can kiss my royal arse!”

“Your Grace, I think we might have to be cautious,” said Garret. “They don’t send the Grey Warlord for nothing.”

Richmond muttered as he strode up the stairs and into his study while Garret followed closely behind. “Well, do they really think they could annex the city with a hundred men? They’re outnumbered ten to one!”

“Your Grace,” Garret said, his voice wary, “our guards are indeed competent, but this is the general and his elite warriors. Builder knows what cursed powers they possess! If they decide to attack us, we won’t be able to withstand it for that long. And who knows how many more are on the way? I suggest caution, Your Grace.”

Despite the anger that was still raging within, Richmond sat behind his writing desk and pondered. “So, we need to stall them and send for more guards. I am certain the rest of the Free Cities will come to our aid once they know that foreign invaders are at our doorstep.”

“I agree,” said Garret and nodded, “but we will have to tread lightly in this, as well. It’s no secret that our relationships with the other cities have… deteriorated over the years.”

Richmond gave his advisor a dark look.

Garret bowed. “But I will send word of it. We also need to send them an ambassador by tomorrow. Who should we send, Your Grace?”

“Someone who can occupy them,” said Richmond. “Someone eager to learn.”

“Someone clever.” Garret closed his hands behind his back. “But not someone so clever he understands we are going to stall them. It needs to be someone who stalls them unknowingly.”

Richmond nodded. “Yes. The less that ambassador knows, the better, but we need one that will be completely loyal to us, but someone who won’t know too much.” He chuckled. “A woman should suffice—a woman’s curiosity is eternal, and slow wit undefeated. No, no—that was only in jest.”

“Your Grace, that might not be such a bad idea.” Garret shifted awkwardly before carefully saying, “I know this might be a bold suggestion, but what about Lady Juniper?”

The Duke glared at his advisor. “Why would I send my daughter to the enemy? If we send her to them, they will not let her go. Do you think me foolish, Garret?”

“Not at all, Your Grace. I do not claim to know much of the grey beasts, but they are known for honouring their promises.” Garret pursed his lips and furrowed his brows. “I would not want to put Lady Juniper in any danger, of course, but imagine the message of trust you will send. The Duke’s own daughter.”

Richmond pondered the idea. He would never be so naive as to send his children to an enemy, but Garret was right. The grey warriors had more reason to keep their promise than not. He sighed. “Aye, aye… but on a diplomatic mission? A woman? Besides, how do we know they will keep their hands to themselves?”

“They might be arrogant and stoic, but they value rules and honour promises above all—and a noble woman would most certainly be less at risk than a lowly woman,” said Garret. “Lady Juniper would be perfectly safe, and would surely be loyal to her beloved father, Your Grace. She’s also an intelligent girl with—”

“Enough.” Richmond furrowed his brows. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Garret. She is easy enough on the eyes, I suppose. At least, she isn’t ugly. That ought to mean something. Perhaps it will occupy them for a while—they are still men, are they not, even though they are beasts?”

Garret shifted awkwardly. “I—” He grunted in discomfort. “Your daughter is indeed fair, Your Grace, but I do not know of their customs. She is not of their kind.”

The Duke weaved his fingers together and placed them upon his chin before he leaned back in his chair in deep consideration.

~~~

Translation:

Vahanan – welcome; “I receive you”

Vasaath – general; military leader; “Leader of Strength and Protection”

Parthanan – goodbye; “it is done”, “that will do”