Turn15
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C'tis
The sun slowly bled to death in the lake.
Ash'embe had never seen so much water. Rivers he knew, though rivers in lizard lands were seasonal things, dry all but a few weeks a year, then torrents of raging flood waters that no civilized lizard would go near.
This water was very placid. Perhaps it had been lulled into complacency by the knowledge that it would never run out, never dry into nothingness. Ash'embe eyed it suspiciously, watching the last sliver of sun cling desperately to life before being subsumed in the blue. It was time to go. Darkness fell quickly in the mountains, and he had to hurry back to the fireside before he stiffened from coldshock.
A loud squawk came from the cliffside, not three hundred centimeters away from him. It was too dark to see what kind of bird it might be, but that didn't matter. He knew it was a white gull. It was always the same damned white gull.
Too many damned scale-leavers here, he thought. Between that and the huge expanse of water, it was no wonder his troops were jumpy and on edge. He rummaged on the ground for a large, smooth rock, picked it up carefully, and turned to face the gull. It eyed him curiously, no hint of fear in its eyes. He hefted the rock, calculating trajectories and impact parameters; at this distance there was no way he could miss.
The bird calmly sidestepped the rock, straightened itself up again, stared at Ash'embe as if nothing had happened. It squawked again.
Damn bird, said Ash'embe, scampering back to camp before he froze to death. He always missed.
"Hey, Ash'embe," came a voice, and he winced. Not again. "I've been reviewing your plans for the morning, and I was wondering if I could make a few slight suggestions..."
He glanced longingly at the sheltered cliffside, where a score of lizards nestled together, dreaming warm dreams of fame and glory. Then he sighed, and turned to face the voice, steeling himself for another sleepless night.
- - -
Ruli slinked into town at midnight on a new moon. For good measure, he made sure it was cloudy, too. It didn't help.
"RUUUUULIIIIII!" He felt his tail being ignobly grabbed by somebody's teeth, who for good measure also cuffed him in playful hatchling style. Somebody acting entirely unbefitting of the solemn dignity of the purple robes she...
"Hi Laph," he said, trying not to sound sheepish. He also tried to break free.
"Oh, no no no, little egg brother," she said. "'Hi Laph?' Is that the best you can do? You've been gone for three seasons. You could have sent a messenger... or, you know, come back yourself five times over." She was smiling at him, clearly overjoyed to see him alive and whole-tailed. Just as clearly she was not going to let him escape until she'd pried every last detail from him.
"You missed all the Trials, the Enyarnment itself... for Aetonyx's sake, last time I saw you you were slipping out of my Egg ceremony," she went on. Her face was implacable.
"So spill."
He gave placating a shot anyhow, just for kicks. "Oh, you know how battles go, so hard to get away or spare a runner," he tried. No luck. "Have you heard about this cool trick I figured out, took me such a long time to get it working, see, you take some bones and..."
"Ruli," she said. "I told that story to the kiddies yesterday. I've been telling it for months. That was ages ago."
"Plus," she continued, before he could speak again, "the rest of the army's been back for ages, gotten reinforcements, gone out to fight more campaigns, and should be back again any day now. So WHERE have you BEEN?"
He sighed. It was all quite hopeless. Better tell her now and get some rest tonight... Somehow, that seemed implausible.
"Well, I stayed behind to scout out the land. Cole said there were some fascinating sites that he remembered from his youth, and I found this place where the rocks howled in pain from an ancient battle..." she was shooting him a look he knew all too well "... and you want me to get to the point now, before you're forced to rap me on the skull with your ceremonial staff, don't you?"
She nodded, a slight smile escaping briefly before being swallowed by a very determined expression.
"Ah, well, you see, the howling rocks weren't all I found. There was also a huge pile of bones, warmling or lizard, it was hard to say which, and there were all still armed, of course, so I thought I could try..."
Laph sighed, as if she had been expecting this. "How many were there, Ruli?"
"Um... thirty-seven?" He had counted them all as he laid them out in neat formations, before he set to work. Afterwards, he couldn't get an accurate count, owing to the fleeing. "But some of them weren't very stable, I'm sure I saw at least three of them fall apart before..."
"Thirty-seven," repeated Laph. "Armed with what?"
"Er, mostly broad swords," said Ruli. "But some of them just had sharp pointy claws..."
"Broad swords," repeated Laph. It sounded almost like she was making a mental checklist. Things to Bear in Mind Lest We Be Ignominiously Crushed for Want of Proper Preparation, she probably thought of it as. She seemed to be taking it rather calmly, given how close the army of deadls had been...
"You knew." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah, Cole flew that way on his morning exercises," said Laph, but grinning this time. Ruli was so funny when he looked all guilty and furtive. "For an egg-mate of mine, you sure suck at spinning good lies, Ruli," she laughed. "You really think we wouldn't find out and would think it was just some random bad luck that a horde of dead things was menacing out outer provinces, oh Arruli Bone-master? Or should I say, Bone-semi-masterer?"
He still looked a little mortified. "Oh, c'mon, relax, we're not going to banish you," she said. "C'mon up to the royal caverns, we have a special cavern all prepared for you, as befits a lizard of your stature." She turned and strode off toward the High Rock, the majestic flow of her robes offset slightly by the undignified snickering sounds she kept making.
Ruli had no choice but to follow.
- - -
When Ash'embe returned, flush from victory against rather well-armed peasants (who had naively thought that meant they could deprive C'tis of some fine farmland), he advocated leaving immediately before "the damned winter egg only made it worse." It was all Laph could do to make him settle down and come up with a plan first.
"They're not peasants with pitchforks who'll run screaming at the sight of a walking, talking lizard carrying a sharp pointy stick," she said. "They're battle veterans. Oh, and did I mention they're dead? You won't be able to scare them with your little walking skeletons trick, either," she said, cutting off an attempt by Ruli to speak.
He spoke anyways. "There's a counterspell I've been working on, it'll make their bones fall apart..."
"Got it working yet?"
Ruli was silent. He'd never seen Laph like this before. She had always been bold: once, she had talked Cole into letting her ride on his back, and made out like flying came perfectly naturally to her, although Ruli knew she had gotten very sick from all the swooping. But this aura of command and authority – that was new.
"No," he admitted.
"Then you'll just have to stay with Great-Grandfather Lugal and work on it," she said. She turned to Ash'embe. "We have a squadron of new hatchlings from the guild of empoisonners, strong tails on all of them, excellent aim I'm told."
"Won't do much good against undead," the young commander said.
"Well, there's always the new recruits," said Laph. "With them we should have more than enough."
"What you really need is some way to keep them from fleeing," said Ash'embe. He spoke more easily now that the conversation had moved to familiar territory. "A lizard is just as strong hand to hand as any skeleton, if he can only be persuaded to stand his ground..." It was a mystery to Ash'embe why anyone would choose to run from a glorious death in battle, but he had learned to accept the limitations of the lesser lizards in his command.
Then he said the words he would regret forever.
He would even regret them after the longdead warriors had crumbled and fallen, while not a one of his own lizards had turned tail and fled. He would regret them in spite of the admittedly motivational yarn that was spun about the Curse of the Longdead Ghouls, who were fated to die again at the hands of green recruits, which the young swamp lizards eminently were.
He said the words anyways, even though before he spoke them he somehow knew that they would be followed by days upon days of many, many more words, words beginning with "Now have we thought this through fully?" or "Let's be sure we're not missing anything here." He said the words, he sometimes thought later, to test his resolve never to bite a fellow lizard, only warmlings. Ash'embe was no biter. But he would wish he were sometime real soon now.
What he said was, "Laph, you should come with us."
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Ermor
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Man
Wow! This stuff is amazing! I cannot believe our mages can construct such fabulous things. Especially this astonishing armor. It is so light that I cannot even feel it on my skin. Veronicas says it is constructed from 10 transparent Air Gems.
Also, I love this tiny cat charm. It makes me feel so incredibly feminine and as light on my feet as a sleek panther. I had to laugh when Veronicas mentioned in passing that the cat charm makes a man feel womanly also!
But this Gore Helmet… Of all my toys, this is the only one that I don’t like very much. It is just too cumbersome. It sits on my head and even gets in the way of my movements. Ralph says I need it to gore any Valkyries that try to fly over my loyal wardens and attack me from the rear.
Pooh! We are not even at war with the nation of Vanheim! So why is Ralph worried about Valkryies? Heck, those sailors have not even bothered to take all those neutral provinces to our southeast, much less attack us!
Plus, they even gave those lovely gifts to me!!! I hung the two paintings in my castle after the royal inspectors proclaimed them free of nasty things like bugs. He said Vanheim either truly does want our friendship or they are scared of us (or of me!). One thing seems certain; that drab diplomat they sent the first time will never return. Good thing too, for I don’t think I could listen to his dreary voice ever again. I really did like their new diplomat, the Valkryie Mirima. She was certainly a lot more exciting and fun that that other annoying guy. Plus, she was a member of the superior female sex, indicating that Vanheim has progressive thinkers. I can certainly do business with the likes of Mirima!
Besides, we have more pressing problems. The idiots of Pythium have attacked right at the forefront of our homeland. They are camped out on the very edges of my castle. They somehow grabbed the kingdom of Solian while my army and I were away to the south. Ralph says it is even an implicit declaration of war!
So, forget Vanheim for now. Ralph suggested we should be nice to the sailors and let them have all the remaining neutral provinces over their way. However, I am a bit worried that (with their magical sailing ability) they could become nasty if they take a shore province on the shores of my lake. They could sail anywhere and attack anybody else on the lake. I don’t like that one bit.
However, Ralph seems correct (as always). The Pythium problem is much more pressing right now. We absolutely cannot allow them or anybody else to own a land at the very door of my castle. In fact, I have already put forth my orders to take the land of Solian from the poison masters of Pythium. They cannot have it. They will not keep it. It belongs only to the Kingdom of Man.
And Ralph agrees with me! Ha, I showed him, I did. He now knows full well that I can think on my own. Heck, I might even truly become a leader of sorts. It could happen!
And then suddenly, he was here. Ralph walked in unannounced. Darn that man! No one else dares enter my field tent without a summons. Only Ralph, the self-proclaimed Prophet of Man.
“Are you busy, my Queen?”
I snapped back at him, “Of course I am! I am always busy!”
“Should I come back at a better time?”
I had made my point about entering unannounced, so I decided to let him go ahead and speak. I replied. “No, my dearest uncle. I know you would never barge into my tent like this if it were not important. So, go ahead, for it IS important, right?”
“Oh, most assuredly so, Selena, most assuredly so!”
Ralph pulled out a document from the small folder he was carrying. He looked at it closely before continuing, “It is about this Pythium incursion into our territories. The royal scribes you tasked for a public proclamation have come up with this draft.”
“Ah, I see! Very good, Ralph, very good indeed. They must have worked hard over this. Did they get those ideas of mine into this draft?”
“Oh yes, they did. And some extra things I thought of too. And even some things neither of us thought of.”
“Such as???”
“Well, our Minister of State has determined from information through the Overseer News Network that Pythium just happens to be the biggest and most powerful nation in the Land of Inland.”
“Um, that is not good news with them invading into our lands, is it?”
“While it might seem so on the surface, it is not truly that bad. Their supposedly huge army contains cheap mercenaries. Those guys not only fight badly and run away too easily, but they can be bought out from under the current owners if necessary. These mercenaries, such as Y’golgona and Sir Edward and Burelk and Ferris are no match whatsoever for our Wardens and Longbows and Knights and spells. We can easily smash them if they attack us.”
“Ok, maybe…”
“But even better, Selena, is that all the other nations in our lands are already grumbling about Pythium expanding and researching far too rapidly. Everyone else near Pythium will be more than happy to attack them from the other directions were they to invade us! Nobody wants to allow Pythium to conquer Inland without a fight. We will have many allies against Pythium, simply because they are the largest empire. They have lots of poorly defended land just waiting to be taken!”
“Are you sure about this?”
“Well…”
“The truth, Ralph! You promised, remember?”
“Yes, I suppose I did promise…
Ralph took a deep breath and continued, “No, Selena, I am not sure about this. No other nation has actually promised to attack Pythium if we go to war. It is only speculation on my part.”
“I see.”
Ralph handed me the draft proclamation without further ado. I sat down to read it. And by evening that very day, the First Proclamation of Man was ready. The document was scribed onto fancy paper and I signed it with my gorgeous, flowing script.
So, here it is:
The First Proclamation of Man
Let it be known to all parties in the Land of Inland that the Powerful Nation of Man will not tolerate any other nation capturing lands adjacent to the Castle of the Queen Enchantress. We will also not tolerate any attacks on land controlled by Man. And we also will frown greatly on other nations attacking any neutral lands currently under control of the Dominion of Man without first seeking permission from our nation. Any such acts will be treated as an overtly hostile act towards our nation which could result in battle.
As for the Pythium invasion of Solian, this will not be tolerated. We are taking that kingdom forthwith and will secure ownership with haste.
However, with Man’s beloved Queen Selena being a very peaceful Great Enchantress, she will consider the Pythium invasion to be an error in scouting on their part. Our Queen has even offered her thanks to Pythium for clearing the rebel scum from Solian, thus making it much easier for Man’s powerful armies to take over rightful ownership.
But if Pythium insists on continuing aggressive acts towards the Kingdom of Man, then we will fight them down to the last able-bodied soldier loyal to our Queen. We will summon powerful magical beings to fight on our side. We will send potent mages to kill all of our enemies. And finally, we will actively court allies against the grave threat of a rapidly growing evil Pythium empire.
So it has been proclaimed on the third month of the second year of the Reign of the Beloved Great Enchantress, Queen of Man.
== Selena ==
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Marignon
Ghost
The tree branch is smooth and the sun is warm. To the east, I spy rising dust. The armies of Pythium march north towards the Plains of Eternal Peril, covering the world under their purple banner. The wind tosses the tree, but I remain motionless.
Down below the tree there is a a rough dirt track. Used frequently enough to prevent large plants from blocking it, but not enough to prevent a covering of low weeds, grasses, and wildflowers, it is perfect cover for my line. The finest thread, strong as a rope many times its size, is loosely stitched to the tree across the way. It runs invisible across the path, then up into my tree. There it is tied onto a large boulder which I hauled up via a pulley with much effort as the sun first rose this morning.
My eyes flicker. The long evening had started at the pub...
- "May the devils take your soul sir!"
- "They most assuredly have yours already!"
- "You spit upon the church, and turn your back upon the LORD of hosts!"
- "Lies, and filthy lies! The Emperor Telicus, Lord of the Emerald Throne, worships the LORD in more truth than the blood-sucker Wic."
- Wedged between the disturbing Forest of Wic, the aptly named Mountains of Madness, and the new lands being conquered by Pythium, that powerful yet cruel fragment of the old empire, the horse people of Tapanete were quickly realizing that there would need to choose sides. Aftial had told me that there were many loyal worshipers of the church here. They would bring Tapanete over to the side of right if a few disloyal leaders could be removed.
- "You dare insult the Archbishop! Right! I'll have your leg for that!" And the pub descended into chaos while I sat sipping my hot water against one wall, unnoticed by all.
A hoofbeat. I am awake without moving. Stupid to have fallen asleep, but still plenty of time. Mestor is alone, flying down the track on his horse to respond to the dreadful news that his prize stallion was murdered last night.
- Horrible horse screams, and blood everywhere. Soon there would be guards, but I couldn't help feel a bit of remorse for this poor creature. Every man whose life I have poured out into the earth has been a man of power, with a thousand crimes, petty or great, which merit death, but this poor animal...
I shake the memory, plant my feet noiselessly. Mestor is only a few heartbeats away. I shove mightily and boulder plummets to the earth, snapping the thread up to exactly throat level. He makes no sound as he tumbles off. I leap lightly from the tree. Somehow he has fumbled his sword free. A weak stroke slides off my shield, then my sword flickers up under his rib cage and a sharp twist spills entrails into the sunny morning light.
The LORD has granted me victory again. All praise the name of Aftial, Protector of the weak, Goddess of courage, Terrible vengeance upon the ungodly!
His horse, confused by loosing its master, turns around, comes over and is looking at me. I reach for its reigns gently, "Come on, let's get you to a better master."
Esclave
997 A.P.P.M
Salutations Magister Esclave,
The time is almost at hand. Your mastery of earth magick under the guidance of Amirdon has proceeded quickly, and my construction here in the forest is complete. Soon the Magus Temple, with you as the first student and teacher, will host many capable magicians not bound by the politics and strictures of the church.
But we must be careful. The Three of Three has uncovered a treacherous letter which appears to seek some sort of understanding with the undead menace to the west. The Church has always used such opportunities to purge those who scare them, and I fear they will try to pin this letter on me. In the council I can count on the support of Polgrave, Muszinger, and Amirdon. I cannot say how Forest will decide, but with Elkland's seat still empty, a tie will be broken by Marignon voting against me. Before this can happen, we must make ourselves strong.
I am disturbed, for I can find no information about the true author of this note. Post-scriptum I pen the portions released by the council. I know it is not much to go on, but I hope you will help me uncover this traitor and clear my name.
In His Name,
The Archbishop of Wic
Greetings,
The Church,----------------, has a wealth of --------------- notions about you. There are those of us, however, who take a more practical view of the world. ---------------------------- --------------------------------------
I must stress that I cannot speak for the entire Church, ---------------------------------------------- Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement, temporary truce, or at least a sham war to placate ---------------------------- my side. If you are interested in discussing such a policy simply send back a note with this messenger.
In peace,
A lesser foe
Esclave,
Be not afraid. You have sought me in your studies all your life. In vain did you look in books and ancient prophecies while I stood beside you and held your hand. In your heart you have always known, why else did you never ask my name when we were together? The LORD dwells in the heart of every man, granting him the knowledge of good and evil-- how to recognize angel from devil. When first your eyes beheld me they glimpsed a heaven you had never known in the dark cathedrals of the church.
And yet good men are still led astray. Seduced by power, they seek to use that power to save others, the kingdom, the church. Ever and again they are lost to the light. Be on your guard, but be not afraid. You have known me and your soul is claimed for God. Neither the dusty grave nor the hosts of Hell can separate you from His love, and thence from mine.
I go now into the wild. Though I will visit you in dreams ever and anon, I will not write again for a season, but which time it will have been three of three months since I left your side...
For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given.
Aftial
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Pangaea
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Pythium
Finally, some fragment of the old Empire that had not forgotten the art of diplomacy. Pythium's legion's had marched to land after land and never once so much as a note of had been addressed to the Empire from a foreign court. Of course, the Legion had developed a reputation for conquering small independent kingdoms by now, but that should made them more eager to negotiate. But at last, Telicus held in his hands a message from what was by all accounts a large splinter of the old Empire, almost rivaling the reborn Empire in size. It would of course be a major boon if the border treaty they suggested could be built on to make them allies, even eventual reincorporation into the empire might be possible.
From what information his agents had brought him, though, this was probably unlikely. They had apparently developed a strange and very zealous religion, and would probably take very badly to a ruler, or even an ally, that did not follow it. Still, a a border treaty was something, and nothing was lost with a little diplomacy.
Cibragol was worried. So many threads he wove he could see were close to their ends. Clodius, Tredal, Silvius, countless others, even his own Voice, Brutus. A disaster was looming. In the stars he could see clues to it, theurgs dying from fire from the sky, countess undead overwhelming legionaries, a great dragon of earth and flame, wolves and hawks conquering, some foolish ruler recruiting independent light infantry.
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T'ien Ch'i
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Ulm
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Vanheim
In which Pherios sees the sights, and Vethru has dinner out.
Vethru
She sews up my skin with small, careful stitches. Every so often, she stops to smooth the skin so it doesn't bunch up where she's sewing. Her dead fingertips linger, caressing, when she does this. Once, she looks up while I watch her. She smiles, and her teeth are white.
She looks much better than that first rainy night I met her, deep in the tower. She is younger than she appeared then; I'd say she was between Belletennares and Pherios's father in age. Today, she's traded in her blacksmith's apron for a low cut black dress. It fits her well; in dim light, she might not even look like a cadaver. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
She's finished stitching now, and I say, "Thank you. That's a much better job than I could do one-handed. And Ji is hopeless with a needle."
"My pleasure," she says. "It's the least I can do after the surgery you performed on my neck. I do enjoy seeing the world straight again."
And now her silver hair flows properly over her shoulders, too.
"Can you read it?" she asks.
"Read what?"
She raises an eyebrow. Of course. Kor already told her what I brought back.
"I don't know yet," I admit. "It's the book I was looking for, but I can't tell how accurate the transcription is. If it even is a transcription of what I think it is."
"And the rod? Is it a key to a cipher? Perhaps to the Codex of Sky?"
She wants very badly to look at them. She's a language nut herself. But I'll be damned if I let her look at them before I do.
"Something like that," I say. To call the thing a key is too limiting, and to call it a dictionary, too expansive. She doesn't have the concept of what it really is. I wonder, though, how long it would take to teach her?
She pouts. It makes her look alive. Not that there's anything wrong with that; we were all alive, once. And really, it's not a black-and-white thing. She's probably more alive than I am, by most popular standards. Should I think less of her because of that? I don't see why. What's the fuss? We're all going to be alive and dead at some time in our existence. Once you get to be my age, those kinds of details matter less and less.
"Well," she says, "Maybe you could explain it to me over dinner?"
* * *
Apparently, she's been giving the dwarves cooking lessons. Some of them are even passable servers. They manage to open a second bottle of wine without shattering it, unlike the first. We drink a fairly good pinot noir and sample the light repast set in front of us. Neither of us is a heavy eater, for the obvious reason that neither of us needs to eat.
"Have you heard from Belletennares lately?" she asks me.
"He is well," I say. "He performs his duties exceptionally."
"I knew he would," she says. "What about Pherios? I hear how well he is doing, but I never see him. Tell me how he is. Tell me something not in the reports. Tell me something about him."
The things we live for--they can't be hidden. She happily works day and night with her magic, but when she sits down with me, over wine and food, and asks about my prophet and my seer, she comes alive. Thus proving my thesis; life and death come in small pieces. She and I have more of the former than we lack.
I tell her a few stories, including one I heard from Ji. She hangs on every word. It's hard for her, staying in the tower all the time. We live--all right, exist--in the same world as the living. We walk the same earth, under the same sky. They accept us. The earth doesn't tremble when we pass. The trees don't bend to let us by. People are different. They push us away, and if you happen not to be a god, you're left on the fringes. In a dark tower, all alone with a handful of dwarves.
I visit with her for a couple hours before I take my leave.
"Thank you for a lovely evening, my lady of the tower," I tell her.
She curtsies deeply. I get a glimpse down the valley between her breasts, and I'm impressed that she's kept herself smooth and firm. Skin care is so difficult when you're dead. "I enjoyed your company," she says. "Please come back soon."
"Of course," I say, feeling unusually courtly. "Perhaps I will bring milady a small gift, or perhaps some magical gemstones."
Her face lights up. "You have been reading my memos!"
"Yes, my dear, and I have sent my seers to find you more gems. Some of our new...allies have exactly what you need."
"...and are so close to another thing I would like," she says demurely.
"And what is that?"
"It's the dwarves, you see," she says. "Their talents lie at the forge and the summoning circle, not in the library. And the scholars on the hill, they are focused on your search, whatever that is. Not that they know much magic of practical value anyway. That is my dilemma. I need better minds."
I smile. Women can be so demanding. It makes things a lot easier when a woman desires that which you already intend to purchase. Obtain? OK, conquer. Whatever.
Pherios
It was vast, and impersonal, and very, very old. The granite stones, each as big as a horse, rose tier after tier above the brilliant white sands below. We had climbed to the top, and I tried to imagine what it had been like to see this coliseum filled with people watching, what? Sport? Fights? Races?
"Was it built by giants?" I asked.
"No one knows," my uncle replied. "Certainly, giants have used it. So have we, in times we barely remember. I brought your father here once, and he maintained that the structure existed before the waters receded, constructed by some aquatic intelligence whose trace is barely left on our world. When we returned home, he showed me books in support of his theory. We could not agree on whether they were fact or fiction."
"It's magnificent," said Galameteia. "If I weren't here, I don't think I would believe it. I'm going to take a better look." She lifted into the air and began to circle the arena in lazy loops.
When she had risen out of earshot, I turned to Belletennares. "Can I ask you something, uncle? About your visions?"
"Of course."
"Do you ever...see things..." I wasn't sure I could ask him. I'd known him all my life, but now, he glowed with Vethru's power. I felt small. I didn't want to bother him. But there was no one else who would understand. He waited, patient, attentive. Serious. As he always was, always had been, just like in my memories. Still family. I finished. "...about Sennei?"
He thought for a moment. I was relieved that I hadn't offended him.
"Yes, of course I have. How could I not? She is my life, more than anything, even this war." He looked out over the quiet landscape. "You have had a premonition about Galameteia. A terrible one, if I'm not mistaken."
I would've answered him, but the words stuck in my throat.
He nodded. "Do you intend to marry her?"
Again, I hesitated. Belletennares was finding my questions even though I couldn't speak them.
"You aren't sure when the right time is, or even if you should do it at all," he said. "Pherios, I can't give you the advice you think you need to hear. I can't tell you that you will know the right moment, that your decision will coalesce out of the myriad possible futures that fate presents to you. I can't tell you that your feelings will guide you truly, because the heart is as fallible as the vision we share. I can only tell you this: it is possible. You may marry her, and find happiness you only imagined. In that, it is no different than love without the intrusion of the future in your mind. You know, of course, that she will understand you, and you, her, even better than Sennei understands me, something I can scarce believe possible. I have long thought that I married the most understanding woman in the universe." He was lost in memory for a breath. "You have not spoken to your father yet."
"No, sir."
"Don't be worried," he said. "He will surely approve. And, I have heard, House Lunnetellerion would welcome your marriage."
"How do you know? Do you know someone in that house?"
"Nothing so simple. It was hinted at in a letter from Sennei." He smiled. "There is a gentle conspiracy of females through which information flows with efficiency that would shame the spies of my army. You nor I will ever penetrate its workings, so be content with the knowledge that it works to our benefit."
"Thank you, uncle," I said, and we clasped hands.
"She's returning," he said, looking past my shoulder. "She's a fine warrior. You've chosen well for yourself."
Galameteia landed. "Fiery deserts, misty plains of ice, and this place, all within a few miles. Extraordinary!"
"These are the places Vethru seeks. We must watch for them in our portents," said Belletennares. "Their power will be mined and sent back to the tower to support our magic. Tomorrow, I will show you one more location of interest before I leave you for the front. Tonight, though, we stay in civilized quarters, in town, under a roof."
* * *
I woke to the sound of her sobbing. It was still night. "What's wrong?" I asked.
"Coyote dreams," she said. That is what we'd say to each other when we had dark visions that we didn't want to talk about. Coyote dreams are small, furtive things that slink in the shadows. They can be chased away. We pretended our dreams were coyotes, because we were afraid they were dragons.
I held her until she calmed. "Why am I an egret in your visions?" she asked. "Why not an eagle, or a hawk? I'm a warrior. I'm not prey."
"You are not an egret," I told her. "You are not a bird at all. My dreams can't encompass you. They only give me a sketch. Not even a portrait. Everything you are would fill my dreams a thousand times over."
"And I wish you were all my dreams gave me..." I whispered.
She rolled over to face me. "In your visions...do I die fighting?"
Her eyes were still wet. I could feel my own tears beginning. She wasn't supposed to ask me this. We agreed. It was too hard on both of us to hear the details of what we see.
"Please," she whispered.
I didn't know. The battles, the danger--they were always scattered, shadowy forms, poorly represented by clouds and birds. I never saw the event. I just felt the doom.
"Yes," I managed to say, before my voice broke. "Always."
We comforted each other until dawn.
* * *
"I feel it, too," said Galameteia. "There's something hidden here."
"But you don't sense it, uncle?" I said. "Then, how did you know to bring us here?"
"We had just taken control of the province when Gor's troops were hit by holy fire," said Belletennares. "We searched for enemies, but there were none. The barbarians had no holy men. Later on, it happened again. The cause was clearly something in the environment."
"I don't understand. Holy fire? Don't you mean unholy?"
Belletennares said, "The troops were dead. That is why they were struck by holy fire."
"We have...undead troops? I thought..." Galameteia wouldn't meet my eyes. "You knew?"
"I suspected," she said. "About the troops. But Vethru--you see him every day! How could you not know?"
"Those are just rumors! Vethru is old, he's not dead." I looked to Belletennares. "Right?"
He regarded me tolerantly. "We do as Vethru commands. If he gives me troops long dead, I will use them. I serve. I'm sorry, Pherios, that the world is not what you expect. But it is the world." He seemed at a loss for words. Finally, he shook his head and said, "I must return to the army. I hope your journey back to Vanheim is pleasant and safe." Then he rode away.
Galameteia led me to a rock where I sat down. "Vethru's...what is he?" I mumbled.
"I thought you knew," she said tenderly. "It seemed like an open secret. Something everyone figured out, but decided would be impolite to talk about."
"This is our world? We raise the dead? In Vanheim?"
"You know our history. You know the magic they did even up to Alteion's time. The blood sacrifices. The demon summoning."
"It seems so long ago. So what is he? A vampire? A ghoul?"
"I don't know. Some say he is a revenant. No one really knows."
So many things were becoming clearer, and none of them for the better. I wondered about images I had seen in my visions, and what I might make of them, knowing what I now know. "And the woman in the tower?"
"They say she is just like him."
All of this in the castle I was living in. I don't know why I was so surprised, or why the surprise offended me so much. I know that as Galameteia and I made our way back to Vanheim, one thought would not leave my mind: if this is the world we live in, what other terrible things I once thought forbidden might now be possible?
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