Tybalt, Vidalia, Mariella, Kistana, Andric, and Tatiana - Tybalt had finally learned the harpy’s name - were walking away from the strange environment of the catfolk village, accompanied only by the two mummies Tybalt had raised.
He was pleased with the day’s results.
His initial telepathic conversation with the two former Beastkings had been brief, but he intended to discuss things further with them once he was alone with them. Or he might wait for the other Beastkings to be awakened. It was better to get a complete story than fragments delivered piecemeal, after all.
Either way, Tybalt would certainly need to spend time talking to Edgard. That former Beastking knew some things that Tybalt had yet to learn about Tybalt’s class. Edgard wasn’t quite a necromancer himself, but with his powers, he could be a mentor to Tybalt in some respects.
“I intend to go back as soon as I can and revive more mummies,” Tybalt said, looking at Andric. “But is it true that there is an element within the tribes that would… disagree with that? You said something about that back there, didn’t you?”
The necromancer was playing a bit dumb until he knew what Andric would have to say about what he’d done.
“Yes,” Andric said emphatically, shooting a sidelong look at Vidalia that was almost a glare. “It’s unfortunate that no one told you that. It actually violates some of our oldest and most fiercely enforced strictures. That said, now that you’ve actually started doing it, there’s no downside to continuing.”
“Are you sure? Perhaps it would offend more people if I raise ten thousand undead rather than just these two.”
“No, no… to be clear, please don’t stop. I can’t promise this will never get out, because it’s inevitable that it will once people see your increased number of beastfolk undead, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re doing Lord Mudo’s work here. I will keep your secret, and when others learn what you’ve done, I will defend you. And maybe your position of… religious significance… will shield you from disapproval too.”
Tybalt hemmed and hawed a bit, as if he felt uncertainty about continuing. There was a little bit of genuine uncertainty in his mind, not about whether or not to raise an army of powerful mummies - the answer to that was obvious enough - but about how to handle Andric.
“How would your father feel about that?” the necromancer asked after a few seconds. “He’s the chief of the village, right?”
“That’s right,” Andric said. “He’ll understand. Someday. The truth is, we need a new generation of leadership, anyway. Some of the older people are attached to their traditions almost for the sake of those traditions. And, of course, my father is understandably hesitant to trust outsiders. My feelings about you are different, though. Even if they weren’t, we couldn’t afford to stay our current course and try to keep you at arm’s length.”
He sounds like Vidalia, doesn’t he? Tybalt thought. At least in terms of his lack of confidence in the Elders. If I never came around, the two of them really would have made a good team. Hm.
“We are in a situation where rapid changes are coming whether people accept them or not,” Tybalt agreed.
“Including the change that you personally represent,” Andric said. “Our god sent you directly. His High Priest. When Vidalia said that to the Council of Elders, somehow I don’t think I quite believed it. I thought she must have misunderstood something. Surely Lord Mudo wouldn’t have sent us a human! Um, meaning no offense.”
“None taken.”
“But I was wrong. You’re clearly the real deal. You’ve got the ring, you’ve got the power, you’ve bled beside us already- ” Andric’s voice became thick with emotion- “and I’m confident that I can trust you, even with an army of our most sacred fallen.” He smiled. “I have a feeling we’ll be friends.”
“I think you and I share some goals in common, which should make that easier,” Tybalt said.
Not counting our common romantic goals, which could make it impossible.
“I appreciate your trust more than I can say, Andric,” the necromancer continued. “I truly want to be one of you, and others will follow your lead if they see you treating me as a comrade. I will strive to be worthy of it.” He turned to the harpy who had remained silent at Andric’s side this whole time. “Um, this is a bit indelicate, but can I count on you to keep this matter to yourself as well, Tatiana?”
“I follow Andric’s lead on these political matters, Lord Necromancer,” Tatiana replied. “Being only an ignorant woman.” These words were spoken in a tone of subtle, dry sarcasm, as if she expected them to be taken at face value and was having a small joke at Tybalt’s expense. “Of course, Andric is extremely honest and would never break his word to one he considers a friend. Now that you’ve addressed me, I would like to say I am glad to see you’ve healed properly. You look incredibly hearty for a man who just recovered from the brink of death. Our dear seer had given us the impression that you might be down for days more. Imagine the pleasant surprise Andric and I had when we saw you up and about and performing diplomatic outreach to the cat tribe.”
There was clearly an accusation there. The political maneuvering that Vidalia had been carefully trying to conceal from the fox tribe’s Council of Elders was blatant if you walked up in the middle of it as Andric and Tatiana had.
Tybalt opened his mouth to respond, not even sure what he was going to say, but to his surprise, Andric rescued him.
“Thank goodness Tybalt was there, since my own diplomacy with the catfolk remains a dismal failure,” the foxman said with a tight smile. “They turned me away, albeit with good manners. They hardly heard me out at all. But now they’ll fight for the rest of us as soon as our High Priest asks. They seemed to be ready to hail you as the Beastking.”
“What did you think of that?” Tybalt asked.
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“I don’t have a say,” Andric replied, shrugging. “All four tribes have to confirm someone in that role to fill the vacancy. The Councils of Elders decide that. So you’re one-quarter of the way there. No one is closer than you. Perhaps Vidalia and I could put our heads together and figure out how to throw the fox tribe your way. That would still only bring you halfway there.”
“Interesting. So, from the way you’re talking, it’s not quite unthinkable to you?”
“The present situation is exactly why we need a Beastking again. Centralized leadership in a time of conflict is going to make the difference between saving ourselves and mass death, I know it. Once, I imagined that leader could be me… but perhaps an outsider is just the person to unite us. No one could say that it gives one tribe an unfair advantage to put a human in charge.”
“You did get members of three of the four tribes to work with you before, though,” Tybalt said. “Have you really given up on this ambition already?”
“I won’t say I completely gave up, but objectively, you’re a stronger candidate. It is true I made connections with members of two other tribes, but only a few. I didn’t win over their Councils of Elders. There’s a difference between getting a few aggressive young men - and women- ” He looked hastily at Tatiana as he added those last two words- “to fight and persuading the political leadership to cede any kind of power. The Elders are always a tough nut to crack.”
Funny, they seemed to like me, Tybalt thought. Maybe Vidalia’s political strategy has more to it than I realized before. Meeting up with them when we didn’t have anything we needed to ask for would naturally make me more appealing than meeting them to ask for soldiers.
“Sounds like we have a tough challenge ahead of us, uniting the tribes to accomplish anything,” Tybalt said.
He and Andric chattered back and forth for a few minutes more about beastfolk tribal politics, much of it repetitive of exchanges Tybalt had already had with Vidalia. The necromancer continued until the conversation naturally seemed to die down a bit, and then he turned to his new bodyguard, who had been standing off to the side silently the whole time.
“Speaking of beastfolk politics, tell me about your tribe, Kistana,” Tybalt said. “Now that we’re away from the village, I want to know everything about them. The things that separate them from the other beastfolk tribes are most important, as well as the things they wouldn’t want me to know. Since the catfolk are going to be looking to me for leadership more than any other group right now, it’s critical that I understand them.”
The catgirl looked taken aback at being suddenly addressed. Her face froze for a moment, before she finally responded.
“I’m pretty ignorant and used to get into trouble with our Council of Elders,” Kistana said stiffly. “Are you sure you want my poorly informed perspective, Your Holiness? We are still close to the Valley of Martyrs. We could easily go back and grab one of the Elders or someone more learned than myself to follow us back and inform you about the cat tribe. Any one of our people would be honored to take on the role of educating such a holy man as yourself about our culture.”
She still doesn’t sound like she’s sure whether she believes I am who I say I am, Tybalt thought. Not that it matters, as long as she follows orders.
“I think you have an inside perspective,” Tybalt said. “Getting into trouble doesn’t seem like a handicap to me. If anything, that’s how you learn what the rules are.”
“As long as you don’t mind that listening to my ‘inside perspective’ would make you bad at following the tribe’s customs,” Kistana said in a slightly gloomy tone.
“My role isn’t to follow rules,” the necromancer said. “It’s to remake them.”
Her little tiger-like ears seemed to perk up at those words, though only for a moment. Her expression remained unchanged otherwise.
“Very well,” she said, returning to a formal tone. “The basic governing principle for the catfolk tribe is that we do not want anything to change. War Chief Andric has mentioned that other tribes’ elders are averse to change, but no tribe has committed to this ideal as firmly as the cat tribe. Our elders have done terrible - I mean, they have made difficult decisions in the name of maintaining our readiness for this exact moment.” She looked at Tybalt and lowered her head slightly in a near bow. “The moment when our god’s chosen representative would arrive.”
“Kistana, I notice you’re trying to express things very carefully,” Tybalt said. “It feels like you think the Elders can hear you right now. No one can hear you except us, though. You’re not under the Elders’ authority anymore. You never will be again. You’re under my direct command. If you have criticisms or judgments, you can express them. It’s information I need.”
“Well… if the High Priest of Lord Mudo commands it…”
Was that the shadow of a smile for a second there? It was hard to be certain when it flickered off so quickly. Her expressions were like her aura in that sense.
“Our tribe has committed terrible acts against its weakest members,” Kistana said. “If you are born into the cat tribe, and you are defective in any way, you’re left to die by exposure. Who you can pair with and whether you are destined to reproduce is determined from a young age. You heard that some of our tribe’s members have the monk class, correct?”
Tybalt nodded.
“Well, no one who has the monk class ever takes the class skill ‘Healing Hands.’ Because if you are laid low by disease in my tribe, or if you are injured in an accident and cannot take care of yourself- ” Her voice rose in what seemed to be uncontrollable indignation- “then you are unfit to survive. It’s my tribe’s way to leave such individuals to their fates.”
She sounded like she had some personal experience with that. Tybalt decided not to push too hard on that subject for the moment.
I thought there might be something like that about the catfolk. He wanted to ask Kistana directly, You’re sick right now, aren’t you? But he suspected that she wouldn’t answer such a question honestly, not without trust between herself and Tybalt that did not exist yet.
That was the obvious explanation for the fluctuations in her aura he’d seen earlier, though, and the way her hand had seemed to shake on her bow. The catgirl had some sort of infection, and no one had treated it or given her any sort of attention. They hadn’t even let her put off taking her shift on guard duty to get some proper rest.
“You’ve been hurt by your tribe’s ways, haven’t you?” Tybalt asked after a long moment, taking the most roundabout route he could to the questions he wanted to ask.
“I don’t know what Your Holiness is trying to say,” Kistana said in an insistent, cold tone. “Your Holiness sought my criticisms of my people, and I have confessed my dissenting views, which the Elders will undoubtedly punish once I return to them.”
“I told you, you work for me now, not them,” Tybalt replied.
But the catgirl said nothing back. There was a coolness between them now, and Tybalt could not explain where it had come from or what it meant.
The necromancer didn’t let it bother him.
I can tell dealing with this cat tribe situation is going to take more attention than I’d realized, Tybalt thought. He looked sidelong at Kistana. But if it helps me bind my future followers closer together and avoid creating more people as discontented as Kistana, whatever work I put in now is going to be worth it.
