The Vastness

by Hausladen, Blake;

  The captain was nodding. “And the free slaves, my king. They are with you.”

  My Vesteal and Yentif ancestors would be equally ashamed. Rebellion had bubbled up to a boil, and I was the last person in the room to think to count friends and foes.

  I looked from the young harbormaster to the veteran captain and back again. “You act as though this divide is common knowledge.”

  “You perhaps only get one view of things, my king, from the hill they have you on.”

  “How long has this been happening?”

  “Since the day you brought us over the mountain. Leger and Dia had hold of things for a time, but once he marched off to Bessradi and she was sequestered inside the keep, the divide ran deep and fast.”

  I had nothing to say to this, and Errati took a seat upon one of the crates.

  “We’ll see to the ship, my king,” the captain said and waved the rest up the gangway. “We can reach Katat by midday if we give her a bit of love.”

  The speed of the move startled me despite all the revelations that warred inside my skull. I thanked them and sat beside Errati in the half-empty hold.

  He began to absently pick the straw from his hair. “It’s the same everywhere, isn’t it?”

  I made no reply. He’d survived a decade as the preeminent moneylender in Alsonvale. That this plot was news to him was somehow comforting.

  I gave him a sideways look. “Say, I’ve been wondering. That day Avinda declared you guilty of murder and Dia pardoned you to be taken beneath the yew instead of execution ...”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, what happened that night? Aren’t you a Chaukai?”

  “She’s a cruel one, this God of ours.”

  “Cruel?”

  “I’ve no great experience with Gods to draw upon, but she was keen to watch while the Chaukai kicked me and sang for me to fail.”

  “They wanted you to fail?”

  “I’ll remind you that I’d spent most of that year plotting to murder or enslave every person in Enhedu.”

  “Fair enough. But you say she enjoyed your suffering?”

  “Like one of the old red hats back in Bessradi. She leered at me while the black claws of the Shadow pulled my soul apart. When I stood up through it all, I was alone. I don’t think I would have survived if it wasn’t for their hatred. If they’d cheered me on like they had swordmaster Fenol, they’d have made a corpse of me.”

  “They’ve never trusted you, have they? Even after all that.”

  “No. Pledged to the Earth and still a stranger to her cause. They keep me around so that you feel safe, I suppose—someone familiar.”

  My continued blindness to the people around me was numbing. “What are they doing, do you think?”

  “We will find out soon enough. Perhaps we should find you a sword and spear? All of yours are with the carriage.”

  “Rot. Thank you, Alsman. That would be welcome.”

  We searched as we could below desk and again above deck once we were disguised as yellowcoats. The Repost, sadly, had not a single rapier aboard. Captain Summer wore the same of this upon her face like a smear of mud until we reached Urnedi Harbor.

  We gathered ashore with the other captains in-harbor at the Inn Leger had built. Fana had returned earlier that day from Heneur aboard a ship the Yellowcoats did not crew and took ashore a cargo she did not disclose to the harbormaster.

  I meant to interrupt her plans, whatever they might be, and the captains needed no convincing. Their crews came ashore, and we gathered the men from the orchards, horse ranch, and a number of Erom’s quarrymen as we marched down the tithe road after her.

  I called for a volunteer to ride ahead with orders that Fana stop. Tucker5 was the first of many forward, and he rode east while our band gathered up work crews from the aqueduct and many mills.

  We crossed the river bridge, marched beneath the remains of Urnedi Manor, and found a milling crowd beyond the gates to the Enhedu Road. Fana and her heavy wagon were on the near side. Tucker5 and a ramshackle collection bargemen, bookkeepers, and farmers upon ponies blocked her way.

  The Chaukai and Sermod with Fana were moving forward to push them aside when I called on all to halt.

  “Barok?” Fana said, “You should not be here. Back away.”

  “I will not, Fana. What have you brought to Enhedu?”

  She did not answer me as other voices rose.

  “What timing,” Errati said with a frown and pointed north to the long line of Chaukai riding in. Each was upon one of the great horses I’d seen the day we’d departed. The Chaukai’s secrets were many. He noticed them as well and added, “Must our lives be ever a parody of a terrible stage play?”

  “Calm days in the sun are not for us, my friend. Perhaps you’d be willing to trade your blood for mine?”

  “No. No, my king. Now that I think on it, I am content to be tossed about like a puppet. You can keep the lead role.”

  Gern’s outriders had swords bare as they surrounded us. Fana’s Sermod continued forward, intent it seemed on remove me.

  “Barok, you must withdraw,” Fana said, and her anger stole the last of my trust.

  “You practice deceit, and I will take no orders from you. Halt and declare your intention or be banished from Enhedu forever.”

  Gern and many of the Chaukai bowed their heads in shame or sadness. Fana spurred her pony toward me and seemed ready to ride me down.

  A hundred men from all points and professions put themselves between us. I drew the dagger I’d been given, but could not bring myself to draw my sword.

  “Stop,” a voice called. “All of you my dear children, stop.” It was the Dame, her old hips hurting her as she marched through the gates tugging Thell along behind her.

  Fana slowed, and the Sermod stopped.

  I said, “Fana, this cannot be the Spirit’s council. Who is it we serve that would ask such things from you?”

  “You doubt the Spirit of the Earth?”

  “I must if she moves you against me as easily as the Shadow bent the Hessier and the Yentif. Call an end to this, Fana.”

  “You cannot stop us,” she said and dismounted as Lady Jayme and her Sermod continued toward me.

  “Yes, Fana, I can,” I said, put the point of my dagger into the cup of my hand, and slashed the heel. “What becomes of your magic if I let my body be consumed?”

  She was not moved by this, and I let a drop fall free. It burst into bright flames and the crowd flinched back. All except Fana. She continued forward.

  I flung my blood toward her. A wall of flames and smoke erupted between us, flinging her back.

  The great crowd was shocked into stillness and in the quiet of that moment, the rending of timber struck our ears like the bark of a bear. All eyes turned to the back of Fana’s wagon. The long crate in its bed smoldered and several of its boards were cracked up as if something was trying to bash its way free.

  “What have you brought, Fana? Are you making your own Hessier now? What madness has taken you?”

  Fana stood and pointed at me. “Get him away from the wagon. Now.”

  Sermod and Chaukai began moving toward me again. Yellowcoats blocked their path. Men fell.

  “This is not how we end,” I screamed, flexed my arm, and flung a fresh handful of blood at the barren circle of blackened earth. A ball of concussive flame knocked me and the warring crowd off its feet. I rose through the smoke, ready to aim a fresh handful at the next person that continued the chaos.

  The wagon had caught fire, and from it a great hiss stung my ringing ears and suppressed the crowd. Black smoke swirled and from the broken box a figure rose. It wore armor and kicked away the last of the burning timbers. The stiff Enhedu breeze pushed back the smoke as the thing jumped out of the wagon and stepped toward me. I could see through the gaps in the armor. Whatever was inside, it was on fire.

  The thing stumbled, righted itself, and marched toward me. With each step the flames burned brighter.

>   “No,” Fana shouted. “Stop. Do as I say. Stop him!”

  The armor began to keen like a warming forge. The Sermod did not follow her order and fell away as the figure kept moving.

  It looked across the crowd. From Gern, to Fana, to me. “Where is Dia?” it asked and there was no mistaking the voice.

  It was Leger. I was at once overjoyed and horrified. I’d seen his body burn upon a funeral pyre. This was not Leger, nor Hessier. Fana had made something new. The eyes behind the helmet burned as Kyoden’s did. The thing before me was Leger’s ghost. I had no voice. My knee threatened to give way.

  “Dia was taken,” Thell said.

  Somewhere close, a horse screamed.

  “By who?” Leger’s ghosts demanded.

  His question did not seem real. I lifted my bleeding hand to keep fresh drops from striking the earth.

  “Barok, you will answer me! Who took Dia.”

  I stumbled back from the heat of his glowing armor. “The Ashmari. We have sent Soma to rescue her, but she has not returned.”

  “We must save her,” he said and started toward me again. Fana’s Chaukai blocked his path, singing and pushing with spears. The songs had no affect upon him, and he yanked their spears from them and smashed them the ground. I did not think to back away as he took hold of me with his metal hand. It burned me, but I lost the will to scream as he painted his chest with from my burning hand.

  I fell backward while by arm burned, and a second scream of a horse pierced the air like thunder. I couldn’t feel the flames and sat numb beneath the terrible ghost of my friend. All around me the crowd was overcome as if slammed to the ground by the dark touch of Hessier.

  Beneath the palisade wall something black began to rise. Burnt copper filled my nose as the grass around it burned and a smoke pour up as though from a brush fire. Spears extended from the writhing mass, and I did not understand it until a third unworldly shriek tore at my ears.

  It was an Akal-Tak.

  It was Clever!

  “Come!” Leger bellowed and waved the horse in, “Come. We ride to her.”

  The ghost of Clever turned, and like a bull it charged.

  “Clever, whoo!” Leger called and took the charge. Two demons they seemed as Leger took hold and wrestled the black beast to a standstill. Flaming black teeth gnashed at the glowing helm, which Leger got his shoulder under Clever’s forelegs and threw him to the ground.

  And then came a shriek as though all the murdered people of Edonia were bound up inside the beast. Left and right Clever searched and screamed, again and again.

  “She is not here,” Leger bellowed above the horse’s sorrow. “Come. We will find her.”

  Clever screamed again but then lowered his head and turn as if inviting Leger aloft.

  “No. You must not go,” Fana yelled.

  Leger ignored her and lifted me off the ground like a doll by my burning arm. My fingers had gone, and my hand was an ember.

  He carried me to the black monster, took hold of its head with one hand, and pressed the flaming stump upon the horse’s neck with the other.

  My touch filled its twisted black form with substance. Bright flames consumed the spears, and Clever’s body became as hard and black as coal. The loyal beast tore at the earth, ready to run.

  Leger dropped me to my knees as he climbed atop the hardened ghost.

  “Stop,” Fana yelled. “You cannot go.”

  “I go to do what all of you failed to. Where was she taken?”

  I tried to speak. My hand was gone, and flames crept up my forearm.

  Fana was the only person standing. The rest were on their backs, as affected as I was by Leger’s magic. A thin shimmer of light moved upon her skin, and as Leger magic flared, so did the nimbus about her.

  “I will not tell you,” she said. “You cannot command me.”

  Somewhere behind me Thell swore. “The Priests’ Home, Leger, high in the Bunda-Hith. Go get her, Leger.”

  Leger swung atop the jet-black steed, aimed him down the road, and with a fresh shriek Clever galloped away like a comet scratching the sky.

  “No. You will come apart,” Fana shouted and began to weep. She fell to her knees and the glow upon her winked out like a spent candle.

  “Go get her, Leger,” I whispered, as the flames consuming me began to cool and gutter. Pain hovered like a spirit above me, as though it had been kept away by the flame. I did not want it to go out.

  On Leger flew, and it seemed there was nothing upon the earth that could stop them. They were nearly out of sight upon the rise of ridge when a piece of his armor clanked down onto the stone road, and then another. Clever slowed, and then with a crash the pair collapsed. The fire that engulfed them winked out and a thin waft of smoke was all that remained.

  The last of the flame upon my hand winked out as well, and all the hurts fell upon me. They came with acid and sharp iron, stabbing deep through my eyes and down my spine and limps. It sank deeper than my bone—into my soul and mind. I lost all sense of time and direction. My body did not seem my own—a broken vessel that was unfit to house me.

  For a moment Thell was there through the pain, and against the logic of old age he tried to heave me up.

  “Damn you all, where are the loyal men of Enhedu? Your youth is an affliction.”

  My vision vibrated as the pain seemed fit to expel my soul from my body. Only the Dame answered his call. She took hold of my tortured arm, painted her lips with my charred flesh, and rolled me up over her shoulder.

  “Down the road,” Thell said and they started walking. It was a slow march through a blizzard of spears and ice. Blazing lights tore at my eyes as road stones moved beneath us, one after another.

  I wished for death as eternity bobbed and bit me.

  They set me down, and the touch of the stone upon my back was the sting of a billion black butterflies.

  “Kill me,” I said. “Please make it stop.”

  My head rolled to the side to see them putting Leger back together. The helmet turned toward me as new sparks and ghostly smoke filled the space once again. A small flame took hold, and both man and horse began again to burn, black and hot. The pain rolled away, and I wept.

  Fana’s terrible magic had bound us together.

  “Can we not save her?” Leger asked.

  “I do have not ships or blood enough, Leger, to bring her home.”

  He growled. Clever bleated, tried to rise, and fell.

  The inside of my skull felt crowded, and Kyoden’s sudden presence stole away the last of my will. I lay limp as the dead king circled my skull like the spin of a room after too much drink.

  “Grandfather, leave me in peace.”

  ‘Hush, child. There will be no rest for you in this lifetime.’

  “My druids betrayed me. This is madness.”

  ‘You are not betrayed. I and my forefathers struggled as you do, to find a place for magic in the world of men. The druids of my time sought only nouns and to erase all memory of verbs. The Spirit is fighting back now and has given you a new weapon with this to fight the Shadow.’

  “They lied to me. Why would the Spirit require this?”

  ‘You cannot be trusted to make decisions about the magic that will consume you and your children. I wanted sway over it, too, when I was alive. Do not distrust them for obeying the wishes of our God. You must understand that your authority cannot extend to the practice of magic. You would betray the world to save your children.’

  “I would not.”

  ‘Now who is the liar?’ Kyoden said and started to fade.

  Leger’s fiery eyes were studying me. The suit that housed him felt as permanent as the yew tree that kept Kyoden.

  ‘Make him listen,’ Kyoden said and Leger seemed to hear.

  “He will,” Leger replied, and my grandfather’s touch left me.

  The Dame covered me with her shawl, and the welcome warmth stole me away.

  35

  Leger Mertone

>   Sunrise for a Dead Man

  Was I drunk? My wakefulness sulked as though it hid from the stalking menace of a hangover.

  I caught memories of a coffin and the fire that woke Clever and took Barok’s arm.

  Damn it. I’m a ghost.

  This thought blundered its way around until I caught the scents of spruce, resin, and sawdust.

  “Enhedu,” I said, sat up, and fell back with a crash of unhinged metal.

  I tried again, slower this time, and stood in place until my metal pieces sorted themselves out.

  I was alone in an empty bunkhouse tent. The place looked to be the lodgings of carpenters, abandoned for me in a hurry.

  I was glad to be alone for the oddity of my condition and wondered if Hessier felt as unnatural. The scorch earth where I had laid left like an accusation.

  I stepped away from it, and out into a haze dawn upon a wide platform of stone—the foundation of a keep perhaps. Another wide tent, likely Barok’s, dominated the far side. I worried the haze was my inhuman eyesight until I turned to my right and got a look down the ridge. The charred husk of Urnedi Manor rose up through the green and gray of the misty forest—a thing more dead than me. The remains of the town I had helped build gathered around it like tombstones.

  “This is the view Barok wakes to?”

  The west side of the foundation was lined with tall stacks of heavy planks that beaded resin and sap along every edge. I walked to the center of the stone square so I could take in the rest of the view and stumbled from the sight of it. What had been a solid carpet of spruce around the ridge had become an octopus of stone arms that reached over ordered patterns of new streets and buildings. All across this view, Enhedu—Edonia now perhaps—was waking to the day.

  “How long have I been dead?”

  A nickering drew my attention and I found Clever on the far side of my tent in a small, hastily raised enclosure. He dug at the grass as though he dreamt of the crunch of it in his teeth. I called to him, and he paused once to consider me before returning to his digging.