“I know, but they can’t use their magic to breach our lands. They have to be here, standing here, and it’s harder for them. Believe me. Most of the sorcery I know doesn’t work unless I weave in our blood magic. Anden is hostile to giving up its power unless you offer some of your own.”
“Because the power of Anden is the power…”
“The power of every Andinna who has walked upon the soil and bled for it,” Luykas finished, nodding. “It’s an amazing self-defense mechanism, Andinna of old probably knew about it, but we had forgotten.”
“I agree.” Leshaun sighed. “Do you think Mave will come by tonight for her first lesson?”
“I honestly don’t know what she wants to learn. She hasn’t mentioned it to me or Bryn…or anyone else, I don’t think. Emerian isn’t a Blackblood, so it’s not for his benefit as her nemari, either.” Luykas could feel his wife, every moment of every day, but he couldn’t read her thoughts, which he was grateful for. They were bonded by blood, and they did it right. While the beginning had been his only way to help her, and neither of them had wanted it, now they respected the bond and each other. It was a useful tool, a needed connection for them, but they never imposed on the other. They each deserved their secrets.
“Ah, well, this makes lessons with her much more interesting, then.” Leshaun smiled. “I’ve been somewhat cruel to her, I think.”
“You’re lucky Mave never got angry with you,” Luykas said softly. “Because you have. You’ll see me, you’ll see Mat, you’ll see Alchan, but you avoid all of those females, and they’re noticing, Mave especially.”
Leshaun sighed. “I’ve been alone for a long time—”
“Bullshit,” Luykas snapped.
“My wife died over a thousand years ago. My siblings and extended family, gone. My own children, gone.” Leshaun glared across the table, but it softened after a moment. “Mat is the only one of them I have left. I adore his choice, and I’m glad he and Mave found each other. I’m glad he was her choice, but…they remind me of me and my wife. They remind me of things I’m beyond. I’m tired, Luykas, and my nephew has grown up and taken his place in the very same family that you have.”
“He’s practically our leader,” Luykas said, rolling his eyes in good humor before returning to the topic that needed to be discussed. “I know what you meant, but that doesn’t explain—”
“I can’t keep up anymore, and I don’t want to be reminded of it every day,” Leshaun snapped. “I was supposed to retire in Olost and live a comfortable life, but then we came back here to Anden, and I couldn’t stay retired. I couldn’t disappear and let younger Andinna take over. I had to step up again, and my body is failing me. This has less to do with Mave and more to do with me. I do my official duties, I indulge my nephew, and that’s all. I don’t have the energy after that.” Leshaun smiled sadly. “I’m hoping after I retire from official duties, I’ll have more energy for the entire Company, our large, informal family. I would like that, but I can’t do it all anymore. Training new Blackbloods is hard enough. I should have sent Mave to Sorken, that Blackblood Leria sent down here to help me, but she’s our Mave, and I don’t want her in anyone else’s hands, so I will teach her what she wants to know.”
“An official duty,” Luykas said softly, understanding. He knew Leshaun was tired and right. When they shoved him fully into retirement, it would be easier on him to have the relationships everyone craved. He wouldn’t have been swamped. He could breathe again. Even in Olost, Leshaun’s retirement was going to be simple. The plan had been for him to stay in the village and manage the administrative tasks of the Company, which were very light, considering there were so few of them. He would have managed the spies until he thought Luykas was ready to take over, but at the time, their spies weren’t as time-consuming to deal with.
War changes everything, and Leshaun is much too old for it.
“Yes,” Leshaun whispered. “Now, why don’t you leave me alone. I know children are on their way.”
“How you manage children but none of us is beyond me,” Luykas teased.
“Children don’t backtalk the way you all can, and the trouble they get into doesn’t lead to steel swords being drawn,” Leshaun quipped. “And they think I’m a very interesting old man who tells them wondrous tales from times they’ll never know and places they will never see. I impress them, and they do as I ask.”
Luykas laughed as he stood. “Are you saying the Company is more unruly than a pack of younglings?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Shoo.”
Luykas chuckled as he left, seeing the younglings walking up. Most of them stopped and gave Luykas a wide-eyed stare, knowing who he was and what he did. Luykas waved at the children, seeing only a couple brave enough to wave back. Young children didn’t have to follow the dominance ranking structure, so he allowed them to stare and meet his gaze.
“How are you today?” he asked one particularly brave child.
“Good,” the young male said, swallowing, obviously not used to the attention of anyone as dominant as Luykas.
“That’s good.” At least someone is. “Well, you all have a fine day and don’t give Leshaun any trouble, okay? He’s a good friend of mine.”
“Yes, sir,” they all chimed at different volumes of enthusiasm.
He headed for the war room. He knew his brother would already be there, and probably the advising team. He didn’t see his brother first. Before he made it inside, he was stopped.
“Good morning, Luykas,” Kenav said stiffly. “I wanted to speak to you.”
“About?” Luykas raised an eyebrow. “Is it something we can talk about inside?”
“No. I wanted to talk to you before taking my idea to Alchan. I want to lead another campaign to hunt down the Elvasi unit that attacked Seanev.”
“How many warriors would you want?” Luykas already knew his answer, but he wanted to know just how ridiculous the idea was.
“Fifteen hundred. Obviously, a thousand wasn’t enough—”
Luykas laughed, the best laugh he’d had in days, maybe weeks. He doubled over and laughed until he cried, his shoulders shaking.
“Fifteen hundred!” He couldn’t believe it. “We have…probably about six thousand, five hundred Andinna. That’s it.” He laughed, trying to breathe as tears came to his eyes. “And you want to take fifteen-hundred of them out and possibly get hundreds of them killed. That’s the most comical idea I’ve heard in ages. Thank you. No, if you take that to Alchan, you’ll take it to him alone. I’m not going to support that.”
“It’s a morale issue. We need a big win after a big loss.”
Luykas sobered. Kenav was right, but it was impossible. A big win meant meeting Shadra on the battlefield in open combat. They couldn’t allow that to happen. The Andinna couldn’t take big losses when Shadra had thousands more soldiers to throw into the next fight.
“I don’t disagree with the sentiment, but we’re not the strength we used to be. If they could get the drop on Seanev, who has been doing this for much longer than either of us combined, what makes you think I’m going to send you out with even more warriors?” Luykas scoffed. “Losing Seanev is just as much of a blow as losing nearly a thousand warriors if we include the missing small teams. This is a morale issue, but it’s a lot harder to deal with than just throwing more bodies at it.”
Luykas shook his head and walked past Kenav, heading inside. He looked at his brother across the room and hated the joy he saw there. He couldn’t bring himself to feel it. Did his brother not see the writing on the wall? Luykas could. He saw it when he saw what was left of Seanev’s campaign, when he saw Seanev, being held by Mave and missing an arm.
Luykas could make plan after plan to help his Andinna family, but he could only see one end—only one, and it wasn’t the one he wanted.
Alchan, how are you still smiling?
Beside Alchan was Seanev, what was left of his right arm hanging useless. Seanev said something and tried
to point, growling as he remembered his problem and used his left hand to do what he needed. Around the room, unit commanders talked. Luykas walked through them, reaching his brother’s side.
“I told them about the ideas we had yesterday, and they’re already trying to work out some real plans. I told them to start formulating their own ideas that you and I can tweak. We can’t micromanage dozens of small missions if that’s the route we’re taking.” Alchan ran a hand over the map. “I wonder if we might be able to with a large winter campaign, though. Something to consider.”
“Spring worked well, but we can’t keep doing big campaigns. Too many Andinna are vulnerable,” Luykas said softly. “Winter might be an option if we were only worried about casualties, but it’s also a supply problem. Warriors on the road need to hunt, which is hard over winter. Game gets scarce, and most healthy options need to remain, so they can breed in the spring. We could send them out with what we have, but then we risk their food spoiling and leaving them to starve. It would also mean we’d need stricter rations here, and we risk people getting thin and sick.”
Alchan sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t say all of that. I knew you would, but I was hoping.”
“We can continue to disrupt. We have to fall back, we can do that. We can run her army ragged until she can’t keep this up. We can destroy valleys, blow passes, drop mountains on their heads. We can evacuate this village and head further north, letting her chase us all the way north to Leria. If she doesn’t give up by then, with the damage we can do to her, at least we’ll be in a better place to take her in a fight.”
“I want falling back to be our last resort,” Alchan whispered. “Don’t mention it too loudly, or they’ll worry we can’t hold out for long. The last thing I want is the cowards running back to Olost, thinking this was a fool’s game.”
“If any of them run back to Olost, we don’t want them in our free Anden, anyway,” Luykas retorted with a growl. “They won’t be welcomed back when we win.”
Luykas would fight in this war until he won…or he died. He didn’t tell Alchan he had calculated the odds and knew which of those was more likely.
People were looking at him. Staring back, he dared them to make eye contact, but they all smartly dropped their eyes.
“All right.” Alchan patted his shoulder. “Now, let’s get some concrete plans set, so we can move forward.”
Bryn walked in and headed straight for them.
“I’m heading out,” he said without preamble. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. If I see anyone, I’ll send them home.”
“Thank you. Good luck,” Alchan said, reaching out to shake Bryn’s hand, then Bryn turned on Luykas.
“Good luck,” Luykas said softer, reaching out. They embraced, holding tight. Luykas needed him to come back. He needed Mat and Zayden to come back. He didn’t know how he could survive without them. Outsiders always thought Andinna males only cared about the female they settled down with, but it was more than that. A new unit, a different type of family was created by the males, at least in a traditional family. Luykas had never known how much he would enjoy it, and it took time to get used to, but he didn’t want to lose it.
“Bring them home.”
“Aye, I promise, I will,” Bryn said in a hushed whisper.
Then he was gone, and Luykas had to keep doing his own job.
Luykas spent the day working with Alchan. He worked with the unit commanders, the nobles, even Dave and Learen, who were just as necessary as any general. He spoke to Trevan, who gave them the best insight he could about the Elvasi army, but no one expected him to know everything. Trevan had been a soldier, a grunt. He hadn’t known about the gryphon riders until the Andinna had told him. Either way, he continued to help, which put Luykas at ease. He liked having the interesting perspective of someone trained in the ways of the Elvasi army.
Night fell, and Alchan was standing in Luykas’ living room.
“Are you ready?” Luykas asked him.
“You made sure to tell Mave you were doing this, right?”
“Yeah, she knows,” Luykas confirmed. He made sure to tell a few people to give her word, including Emerian, who was becoming her shadow and her guard. He was beginning to count on that Andinna to always be at her side. Luykas smiled at the thought. Emerian had come a long way since he entered Anden, unsure of himself and those around him. Luykas was invested in the male, both being mutts of a less than acceptable bloodline.
“Then you are free to do as you need.” Alchan waved him to start, sitting at Luykas’ table with a bowl of water, a couple of glasses, and several washcloths.
Luykas performed the ritual quickly, pulling power from his blood and the land around him. It sent him flying from his body, and when he opened his eyes again, he stood in a cozy parlor.
“Oh, you’re here,” Nyria said quietly. Luykas heard a terribly sad note in her voice. He turned to see her curled up on a couch, firelight crackling over her face. She had lost weight over the winter and was only recently putting it back on. It left her cheeks hollow, and her gold eyes seemed dull. The magic she had done had terrible repercussions, and she was dealing with them. She would be dealing with them for another few months if he had to guess.
“We’ve suffered a loss, and I’m desperate,” he explained without needing to be asked. “Have you learned anything since last week?”
She turned away and nodded, closing her eyes. “Yes. I’ve learned more since the last time you’ve visited.”
“Thank the Skies,” Luykas said with a sigh of relief.
“Thirteen thousand foot-soldiers, eight thousand archers, three…three thousand gryphon riders.” Nyria started to laugh, but it was a hopeless sound. There was nothing funny about her words. “Another two-thousand standard cavalry, all of which she’s hoping to transition to gryphons. Two hundred and fifty ballistae to kill your wyvern.”
“Nyria?” Luykas tried to commit those numbers to memory.
“She has more people in her army than you have for your entire people,” she whispered. “How did I ever think the Andinna would win this?”
“We still can,” he snapped. “We can still win this. Please believe in us.”
“What happened?” she asked, swallowing as she looked back at him.
“We…lost roughly a thousand warriors in an ambush. You didn’t tell me her sorcerer count. Has she brought in the sorcerers yet? They’re the only way she could have pulled off her ambush of our summer campaign.”
“The Sorcerer Guild isn’t an official military unit,” Nyria reminded him. “They answer directly to her. I think they’ve offered twenty or thirty magic users so far for advanced work. The rest are lower ranking. I put them with archers because that’s where they’ll be deployed—a thousand proficient sorcerers in the archery unit. Instead of arrows, they’ll be throwing fireballs and the like. Whatever they can think of.”
“Ah, of course,” Luykas said softly, nodding. “That’s what she did last time. She merged them with her ranged units. What about these advanced sorcerers? Do you think any of them could do any sort of mental manipulation spells?”
“They’re the ones who taught her and that she’s taught,” Nyria answered.
There was no life in her. Luykas was beginning to believe that between her own weakness from the spell backlash and learning the Andinna’s true odds, that his sister was beginning to weaken in her resolve.
I can’t blame her. The odds are terrible.
“Listen to me,” he said, going to a knee beside her. He wished he could take her hand, make her look, but all he could do was wait for her to meet his gaze. “We are Andinna, and we have our ways. Don’t give up faith in us just because she has the bigger force.”
“Every day, I hope she’ll realize that she’s wrong,” Nyria spoke softly. She turned back to the fire, watching it with dull gold eyes. “Every day, I hope she becomes the mother who saved me from my father again—a mother who was righteous and good and powerful, who s
aved me and could have saved others. Instead, every day, she continues to plot ways to murder your people and cement her own power. She killed a couple of nobles over the spring when she found out they freed their Andinna slaves to keep from getting hurt. She locked several others in cells. She thinks it’s treason.” Nyria shook her head as if she were dismissing her own thoughts. “I know you have a chance to beat her. I’m just feeling down this evening. It’s happening less frequently, but I’m still trying to heal from…”
“I know.”
“You were right that spells have consequences. I should have been more careful.” She shifted, wrapping her blanket around her further. “Mother wants me to visit her over the winter. She thinks the stress of the war, added to losing my brother and my father, did this. She thinks if I’m with her, I’ll be less…like this. She’ll probably keep me up there to watch the war unfold.”
“She doesn’t plan on beating us by the end of the year, then. That gives us time,” Luykas said, nodding. “Thank you for that.”
“No, she plans on beating you next year.” Nyria reached out and tried to touch his cheek, going through him. “I don’t want that to happen, so I’m still moving money where she can’t get it. She knew Fenoth was the richest noble of the Empire, but she never knew exactly how rich. She doesn’t know the money she’s losing. If she can’t pay her soldiers or feed them, they’ll start deserting. I haven’t succeeded yet, but next year, she’ll start to feel it because the fields have lost their slaves. It’s going to be a disaster for her, and she knows it. That’s why she’s aggressively trying to beat you quickly. I wish I could tell you more, but I’m not in her meetings. I’m here in Elliar, and she isn’t. That’s all I know.”
“You’ve been amazing, sister. Thank you.” He smiled and was glad to see a small one returned to him. The source of their new bond was from the last few seasons. She had been so ill and drained, but he was the only one who could really comfort her because he understood the cause. “Blessings on you,” he whispered, an Elvasi saying for good tidings.
The Champion's Ruin Page 27