The streets were eerily silent as Arran and Kaleesh followed Lord Rannoc through the city.
Arran could Sense that some of Kadun's troops were still afoot in the city, but all of those gave their small group a wide berth. An enemy Lord was something no soldiers wished to encounter — even if Lords supposedly didn't fight common soldiers.
They had left Rannoc's group behind near the gate, with only Arran and Kaleesh accompanying the Lord as he set off to face Kadun.
From the envious looks this had caused among Rannoc's troops, Arran guessed that seeing Lords do battle was no common thing, and that the Darians begrudged them the opportunity they were given.
Yet while Arran was pleased with the chance to see the strength of Lords, he could not help but feel nervous at the outcome of the battle ahead.
If Rannoc was defeated, he had little doubt that he and Kaleesh would be the first target of Kadun's ire. And if Lords were even stronger than Knights, Kadun was an enemy neither of them had any hope of defeating.
Rannoc, however, showed no sign of worry. Rather, he walked with a spring in his step, as if he could barely wait to face his opponent.
"A chance like this is a rare thing," he said in a cheerful voice. "The laws of the Imperium make it difficult to challenge one's enemies. Before I received your message, I was convinced I'd have to spend another century putting up with that vapid little man."
"Then I am glad we could be of help, your Lordship," Kaleesh replied.
Rannoc gave him a sideways glance, then frowned. "You should get those wounds treated."
"Thank you for your concern, your Lordship," the captain answered. "But my injuries aren't serious. They can wait until after the battle."
Rannoc nodded, then glanced at Arran. "You, on the other hand, seem to have fared much better. From what I can tell, there's barely a scratch on you."
In truth, there wasn't even that. Arran's wounds had been completely healed even before the Knight drew his last breath. But that was a secret he could not reveal — and least of all to a Lord.
"I was merely lucky, your Lordship," he said instead, using the same title that Kaleesh used to address the man. While repeating with every sentence he spoke seemed excessive, he would not risk offending a Lord.
"Lucky?" Rannoc laughed sharply. "In battle, luck is created through skill. And luck like yours requires no small amount of skill. That goes for both of you — for outsiders to face a Knight and survive is no common thing."
Before Arran could reply, Kaleesh spoke up. "You give us too much credit, your Lordship," he said. "The truth is that our opponent underestimated us. While we have some small skill, it wouldn't have been enough had he not foolishly chosen to reserve his strength."
While there was some truth to that, Rannoc looked unconvinced.
"Be that as it may," he said, "you have potential. Once you become citizens, you will find that the path to power in the Imperium is a difficult one. Having a patron would ease your path."
"A patron, your Lordship?" Kaleesh asked.
"My stewards urged me to deceive you," Rannoc said, his tone cold. "To grant you your citizenship, but have your men earn theirs in the mines."
He paused briefly, giving his companions the chance to consider the barely veiled threat.
Then, in a friendlier voice, he continued, "Naturally, I will do no such thing. But even with your citizenship, as an outsider, you will find yourself a target for trickery and deceit. Should you enter my service, however, you will be protected from such malice."
"Your Lordship, you wish us to enter your service?" Kaleesh asked, some unease in his voice.
"You have talent," Rannoc said. "With my help, you might yet develop it into something more." He gave the captain a smile. "There's no need for you to decide now. Consider my words, and we'll discuss this matter later."
"Of course, your Lordship," Kaleesh replied, sounding just slightly relieved.
They continued through the city's streets for several more minutes, though there was a noticeable change in the mood of their small group after Rannoc's offer.
Arran understood that a Lord's offer wasn't easily rejected, yet although he couldn't be certain, he suspected that Kaleesh had no intention of accepting it.
And that, he knew, meant there might be trouble ahead.
Still, he couldn't bring himself to worry about possible future threats — not with a far greater danger right before them.
That danger soon became even more urgent, as it wasn't long before they reached a large walled mansion, protected by a massive wooden gate. And behind the gate, inside the mansion, Arran could Sense Kadun's Living Shadow weapon.
The gate currently stood closed, though there were no guards to be seen — doubtless they'd abandoned their post as soon as they got word that a Lord was approaching.
Rannoc smirked as he looked at the closed gate. "It seems Kadun neglected to arrange a proper welcome. Then we'll just have to let ourselves in."
He stepped forward, then kicked the massive gate with such power that it was torn apart instantly, splintering like a twig hit by an avalanche.
Rannoc pushed what little remained of the ruined gate aside with his hands, then glanced back before stepping through. "Follow me," he said, "but you would do well to keep your distance."
Arran and Kaleesh did as he said, following two dozen paces behind him.
Beyond the gate, Arran found a large, well-kept garden, filled with stone paths, luscious flower beds, bronze statues of people he did not recognize, and several ponds. And on the far end of the garden, he saw the mansion.
The mansion was grand and luxurious, yet he paid it no attention. Because as they stepped into the garden, he saw Kadun emerging from the mansion's doors.
"Kadun!" Rannoc called out. "How kind of you to welcome us in person!"
"Rannoc." Kadun spoke in a calm voice that held just a hint of anger. "You dare enter my city uninvited?" At that moment, he noticed Kaleesh and Arran in the back, and his eyes went wide with outrage. "And you bring these outsiders with you?!"
"So I do," Rannoc replied. "I thought it only fitting that the outsiders who caused your demise get to witness it."
"My demise?" Kadun cast a furious look at Rannoc. "You think you have a right to challenge me in my own city?"
Rannoc let out a mocking laugh. "You spilled the blood of my family, Kadun. I not only have the right to challenge you, but the duty to do so."
"The blood of your family?" Kadun said. "Surely you know that these outsiders—"
"The outsiders gave me an excuse," Rannoc replied. "In truth, I've long wanted your lands for my own. And now, I shall have them — and be rid of your insipid face, besides."
Kadun stared at Rannoc with a mixture of astonishment and outrage. "You admit it? You admit your treachery, and you still dare mock me?"
"I do admit it," Rannoc said in a derisive voice. "I desire your lands, and so, I shall take them. And more likely than not, the Council of Lords shall thank me for ridding them of your foolishness."
Kadun's expression turned from outrage to fury, yet he said nothing — his anger appeared to have reached the point where he could no longer find the words to express it.
Yet Rannoc continued, "Surely you must know that none of us respect you? Each time you open your mouth, the others groan in anguish for having to endure the rants of a moron. When I cut your throat, the entire Imperium will rejoice for being rid of you."
"Enough!" Kadun shouted, his voice trembling with rage as he drew his sword. "I will kill you for your insolence!"
As Kadun drew his sword, Rannoc raised his glaive. "You will try," he said. "And you will fail — like you have failed at running your lands, and earning the other Lords' respect."
Kadun shouted again, though wordlessly this time, his face red with unrestrained fury. Then, he raised his weapon and stormed at Rannoc, roaring as he rushed forward.
A small smile crossed Rannoc's face. Then, he stepped forward to meet his opponent.