An Elegy of Heroes

by K. S. Villoso

  The hours drifted by. Lulled by the silence of the forest, Sume fell into a trance. A distinct, bird-like screech from the sky snapped her out of it. She sat up, convinced for a moment that it was just a dream. When the cry came again a second later, she scrambled out of the cavern and into the open.

  Something shot out of the sky, slamming into her. She attempted to curl up into a ball as she fell to the ground, narrowly avoiding hitting her head on a rock. Before she could get up, she felt a padded foot on her shoulder, forcing her to stay down. Arn’s face peered out from the griffon’s back.

  “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?” Arn said, his voice seething with rage.

  “I didn’t think much after I saw what happened to my friend,” Sume retorted as she got to her feet.

  The griffon screeched at her. Arn tapped its neck as he clambered down from it. “Your excuses…” he began.

  “Whatever you think my motivations are, it’s over. You’ve found me,” Sume said. “I’m not what you came out here for. You still want that creature, don’t you?” She glanced at the cave.

  Arn followed her gaze. “You’ve seen it.” There was an edge to his voice.

  “No, but the madman sitting there should be proof enough of its presence.” She held her breath. “Do you want to take a look?”

  “I…” His eyes darted back and forth, and suddenly the hesitation in him became apparent. “I don’t know if that’s wise. That thing is dangerous.” He reached back to touch the griffon, his fingers digging into its neck.

  Sume stepped towards him. “Isn’t this what Yn Garr tasked you with?”

  “I didn’t think we’d find it until my men got here,” he murmured. He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s trapped in there?”

  “As far as I know,” Sume said. “That could change any time.” She took a deep breath. “I could go with you if you want. You’re the one with a connection to the agan. That’s supposed to keep you safe. You could always throw me at it.”

  He frowned at her. “I see what you’re doing. I’m not a fool.”

  “What am I doing, Arn? You’re the one with the murderous beast, the agan, and the sword. You’ve got me surrounded at every angle—the least you could do is stop acting as if I’m the one waiting to ambush you at any moment. We travelled all this way to find this thing. We should at least look at it.”

  “Do you realize the insanity of your suggestion?”

  “What’s insane is going all the way out here and then deciding, no, it’s better if we just sat and waited around some more. How long before your men got here?”

  “A few days,” he said. “Give or take.”

  “So I suppose you’re willing to sit here with me and play nursemaid in the meantime.”

  Arn turned to Rysaran and narrowed his eyes. “That’s your prince?” He gave a grim smile. “Looks like he’s seen better days.”

  “You’ve seen how this creature works. How do you pull him out of its taint?”

  “If he’s been with it these past few years, I don’t even know why he’s alive at all.” He stepped towards the figure. “King of Jin-Sayeng, huh?” he asked, nodding towards Rysaran, who began gibbering. “To think that I am in the presence of royalty! But here I am, forgetting my manners. Is this how you curtsy in these parts?” He dropped his head and made a mock bow.

  “Is that even necessary?” Sume asked, walking past him to stick a torch into the embers. “If you’re going to be a coward about this, I can go alone.”

  He sneered, but after a moment, followed her into the darkness.

  The cavern formed a natural corridor that grew wider the deeper they walked in. There were deep gouges and crumbled rock along the walls, which hinted that the corridor must have been a lot narrower before a beast the size of a house lumbered past it. A faint scent of decay clung to the surrounding air.

  They reached the end of the passage. Sume lifted the torch above her head and saw the remains of a bridge that used to span along the length of the chasm.

  “This was a dragon cave,” she said, more to herself than for Arn’s benefit. She stepped towards the edge of a cliff where the bridge began and crouched down. After a moment’s hesitation, she touched the ropes, noting a powdery substance on the parts that didn’t look moth-eaten. She grabbed a post and looked down.

  Her head spun.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was sunny when Kefier arrived at Yn Garr’s garden in Cael. This made it easy for him to spot Rosha in the distance, where she sat, cross-legged, on the half-frozen ground in front of the fountain. He crossed the cobblestone path, dodging the flurry of wagging tails and searching tongues of the dogs that came to greet him.

  He threw a stick as far into the grove of orange trees as he could and broke into a run. One dog, wracked with indecision, stopped in the middle of the path for half a second before choosing to chase after him. Laughing, Kefier broke out into the clearing. Rosha looked up just as the dog came crashing against his legs.

  Although her face remained passive, Kefier saw her eyes light up. Something inside of him clicked. You don’t look like Enosh, he decided. You look like your mother and my mother. I think I’ve always known, but I couldn’t imagine how...

  The thought made him break out into a grin. He stopped a few paces from her, dropping to the ground as the dog climbed and wriggled over his shoulder. “So,” Rosha said. “You’ve gone crazy.”

  “A fine way to greet your old man,” he snorted.

  “I would offer you a kiss, but you smell like dog.” She glanced at his hair. “You also look like you haven’t taken a bath in weeks.”

  “It looks like you’re not happy I’m alive.”

  “I’m happy you’re not dead,” she said. She folded the book in her lap and peered into his face. “No cuts or bruises, so you haven’t been fighting, either.”

  “I got held up in the Orasmus Peninsula.”

  “You were supposed to be in Baidh.”

  “I—” Kefier snorted. “And you’re not supposed to pay attention to my schedule. Things happen, and I can’t always control them. You’d only worry.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Is that the only reason?”

  “Well, that and I’m trying not to encourage you to be a smart ass.”

  “What about that Lady Isobel? She has nothing to do with this?”

  “Where did you hear that from?”

  “The guards. You know some of them are from the Boarshind.”

  “I’m going to fire those bastards.” He cringed as another dog caught up with them, jumping over the first one to nip his face. “Damn creatures, hold on! Here!” He threw another stick. The second dog crashed into the bushes after it. The first one simply turned around in a circle.

  “You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” Rosha said.

  Kefier scratched his head. “I’m not lying, Rosha. That’s just a rumour they’ve been spreading around because she...well, it doesn’t matter. You know you and your mother are the only women in my life.”

  He glanced at the remaining dog, who was happily looking up at him with both paws on his feet. “You too, Daisy.” The sound of his voice made the dog wriggle like a worm.

  Rosha raised a brow at him. “Even after what she’s done?”

  He playfully crumpled the dog’s ears in his hands so he wouldn’t have to look at her. “She did what she felt was right, Rosha, even if we don’t agree with it.”

  “I don’t know,” she murmured. She flipped a page. “It hurts you. At least, I think it does. Jarche says…”

  “I’d rather not talk about it. Look, I haven’t seen you in weeks. You still haven’t even given me a hug.”

  She sighed, dropped the book over the side of her leg, and came up to wrap her arms around his neck. He returned the gesture with one arm, while the other he used to fend off an incoming dog, and kissed her head. She pulled away from him, wrinkling her nose. “A bath,” she repeated.

  “Maybe later.”
>
  “Jarche says maybe your men would respect you more if you smelled a little better.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Tell me what you’ve been up to these past few weeks.”

  Rosha drew away from him to point at the book. “I’ve been learning how to create little rifts in the agan fabric to use when I need more than my natural abilities allow. Look.” She did something with her fingers he couldn’t see, though he detected a faint glow around her fingertips.

  “That’s fascinating,” Kefier said, not understanding half of what she said. “What can you do with it?”

  “Nothing much yet,” Rosha admitted. “Just this.” She drew her fingers in the air. The glow became stronger, until the shape of a grinning dog, rendered with blue lines, appeared where her fingers had been. It disappeared almost as quickly as it came. “Jarche tells me that in time, if I study hard enough, I can use it to create portals like she can, transporting my entire body in a short amount of time. Think of the places I can travel to!”

  Kefier blinked. “Where would you go?”

  “I don’t know yet. Baidh, I suppose. Hafod. I’d like to see the giant waterfall in Kiel. Cities in Dageis, and the far east.”

  “Not home?” he asked.

  Rosha looked at him. “Home? Oh. You mean Jin-Sayeng?”

  “Of course I mean Jin-Sayeng.”

  She shrugged. “I suppose I can go there, too. But it’s not like I can do this any time soon. It’ll take years before I can even travel from here to the kitchen, never mind across the continent. It’s an interesting concept, though.” She began to talk about the theory in the technique, which reminded him, yet again, that she wasn’t really his child. Enosh used to talk like that. But he kept his gaze locked on her, pretending to absorb every word. He would return to Hafod soon enough, and then when would he see the bright look in her face or hear the soft sound of her voice again?

  After Rosha’s lecture on the transient properties of borrowed agan, they took the dogs for a swim in the pond. Rosha laughed as they splashed her dress and wrestled each other for sticks, and for a short amount of time, Kefier was in the presence of his little girl again. He remembered when she was three years old and he would take her to the shores of Lake Watu when he wasn’t working. Today mirrored that memory, although they were no longer waiting for Sume to finish her errands and join them in watching the sunset.

  “How’s Dai?” Rosha asked, as they walked back to the mansion.

  “Well enough,” Kefier replied. “I didn’t get the chance to see him today. I expect Captain Aden is keeping him busy.”

  “And Myar?”

  Kefier looked at her.

  “We are in the Kag, Papa. Jarche tells me this sort of thing is common enough, especially with someone unskilled like Anong Sagar. I write to Dai, but he doesn’t write back as often, or at all,” she said. “I think when he does write back, it’s Myar. He has always been kinder to me than Dai.”

  “Do you note a difference?”

  “Of course, Papa. Myar is a kind friend, but Dai...is my cousin. I only thought maybe, he would know…” She stopped, gazing at her feet.

  “That he would know about your mother?”

  She nodded. “Myar is unaware.”

  “Dai does know where she is,” Kefier said, at length. “He told me the first time he arrived in Hafod to join the Boarshind. She had been communicating with his mother.”

  Her eyes widened. “You never told me.”

  “I thought you didn’t care one way or another,” Kefier said. “I didn’t want to risk upsetting you.”

  “You knew. Have you written to her all this time?”

  He shook his head.

  “Has Dai?”

  “Sometimes,” he murmured.

  She stopped in the middle of the garden path, staring at him in an attempt to read his expression. “You’re not talking to each other,” she concluded. “You had me believe you didn’t know where she was, because she isn’t writing to us! That’s why...”

  “Let’s not bother the household about this, Kirosha,” he said in a low voice. “Your mother’s safety could be at risk if we speak any further.”

  He saw that she wanted to argue. She was so much Sume’s child, in that regard. But she only gave a curt nod as they entered the mansion, which was just as well, because when they walked into the dining hall, Yn Garr was there with Jarche. “Welcome back,” Yn Garr said gruffly, looking up from a plate of roast duck. “I trust you will not continue making a habit of using Jarche as your personal transportation system?”

  Kefier helped Rosha into a seat before taking the chair from across Jarche. “I will take a horse on the way back, master,” he said.

  “As you should. I let you have unlimited resources. You need to make better use of them.”

  He heaped food on his plate and ate without replying. He heard Yn Garr cough before turning to Rosha. “And how are your studies, my dear? Jarche says you’ve picked up how to draw from the agan fabric with ease. Your father—”

  Kefier stiffened, the skin of a roast duck halfway between his lips.

  “—ignorant as he is about these things,” Yn Garr continued smoothly, “would not understand how difficult this is to learn, even for many skilled agan-users. That you can grasp such advanced ideas at your age can only mean you possess a talent most mages can only dream of.”

  “I don’t know if I would say that,” Rosha said.

  Yn Garr inclined his head. “You sound frustrated.”

  “I don’t quite understand how it ripples when I do this—” She lifted her fingers.

  “Not in front of dinner, dear,” Jarche said.

  Yn Garr smiled. “She’s correct. You need to eat, build up your strength. Many a mage have found themselves too drawn to the agan and never again regain their interest in the real world. Suddenly, they find it too mundane.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” Rosha said. “There’s enough interesting things in the real world.” She lifted her brows at Jarche, who laughed.

  “She’s been wanting to see the High Falls in Kiel,” she said. “And Hafod, of course—Tilarthan, in particular. She can’t believe you could have a city so big.”

  Yn Garr cleared his throat, the smile on his face fading. “Not yet,” he said. “It’s too unsafe.”

  “But Seagwa of Nalvor said a distinct connection to the real world is advantageous to the budding mage,” Rosha retorted.

  Yn Garr snorted. “How can you talk like this? You’re eight years old.”

  “Don’t look at me,” Kefier mumbled.

  “I’m not,” Yn Garr growled. “Though, incidentally, you also need to stop talking when your mouth is full,” he added.

  “You’re not my father, old man.”

  “I should hope not! The man must be turning in his grave by now.” He pointed at Kefier with his knife. “There’s already been too much talk between the Hafed nobles about you and your questionable manners.”

  “I’m supposed to be the commander of some ragtag mercenary army. What the hell kind of manners do they expect me to have?”

  “Do not,” Yn Garr said, glancing at Rosha, “emulate this man. Act with sophistication. Grace. Like so.” He began cutting his meat with ease.

  “There’s a spot of sophisticated duck fat in your beard, old man.”

  “Why are you still talking?”

  “Because,” Kefier said, “it amuses me.”

  Jarche smiled the distinct smile of someone who was going to kill one of them soon.

  “Anyway, why can’t she go to Hafod? She’d be safe enough at Thunder’s-Mouth.”

  Yn Garr stabbed at his duck with his knife. “I sometimes wonder how your brain can sustain both breath and talk at once. I wouldn’t trust one of the dogs with those murderers and thieves, let alone the child.”

  “You hired Sthura to turn those murderers and thieves into soldiers, fit for the Hafed king.”

  Yn Garr’s face twisted. “That miserable…”
he began, before thinking the better of it. He turned back to his food.

  Jarche coughed. “I’m going to get dessert. I asked the cook to make triple-layer cake. Rosha, could you come help me with it?”

  She glanced up. “What for? They fight all the time,” she said. “I’m used to it.”

  Jarche smiled at her. She sighed and got to her feet.

  As soon as they left through the door, Kefier turned back to Yn Garr. “Let her visit me there, at least. The child yearns to see the world beyond these walls.”

  “Beyond these walls lie death and destruction,” Yn Garr murmured. “There will be no time for visits in the coming days. Soon, we will meet with King Elrend, and you will be busy, no doubt, fending off his nobles left and right. You and I both know she is safer here.”

  “The men were right. The placement of the troops...you mean for us to march against Dageis soon, don’t you?”

  “That may happen. The King certainly wants it to happen. The northern part of the border rightfully belongs to Hafod, and there is plenty of arable land that Dageis is not using that Hafod would like to have back. Whether his nobles will agree to it or not is another matter entirely.

  “They will send soldiers and mages if we move, and the Boarshind alone cannot defeat them. The entire matter must be handled with some diplomacy. Dageis is not unreasonable—we could come to an agreement with them, should we best them somehow. It’s not like they need or can even reasonably hold those lands. There’s a reason they’ve left them alone all these years.” Yn Garr touched his wine glass. “Settling there would be easy enough, no doubt. But could you hold your position when they come?”

  “Maybe,” Kefier said. “I’ve got most of the area mapped out, but I’ve never led a full-scale assault before.”

  “Not an assault. Defense. Easier, in some ways. Anu-Sthura will go over it with you.”

  “Looking forward to it. Ab’s breath, couldn’t you have hired a more pleasant war consultant?”

  “With the ril the way it is?”

  “You’re the one who said unlimited funds.”

  Yn Garr snorted. “Anu-Sthura is a respected scholar in The Empire of Ziri-nar-Orxiaro. I would wager that she knows more about war tactics than Knight-Commander Dowan. That old walrus wouldn’t know war if it bit him in the posterior and twirled in circles under his nose.”