Rise of the Blood Royal

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Rise of the Blood Royal Page 58

by Robert Newcomb


  “Do you agree with the Inkai’s plans for the craft?” Shailiha asked. “Banning the use of forestallments and destroying the Tome, both Scrolls, and their indexes seem to be drastic measures. I must admit that such radical theories would never have occurred to me.”

  “Nor to me, had they not first been explained to us by the Inkai,” Faegan answered. “Although seeing things from our perspective is probably impossible because you are so young, you must always try to remember what has gone before,” he added. “Because the Tome has been in our possession for hundreds of years and because it taught us how to use the craft, we always viewed it as a treasure to be protected at all costs. But the Inkai see it as nothing more than some obsolete old text, and rightly so. The same is true of the Scrolls and their indexes. So you see, it is all a matter of perspective. Like Wigg and Tristan, we have come to believe that the Inkai are right. Once Rustannica and Shashida are united, only radical changes to the craft and to everyone’s blood signatures will enable both sides to live together in peace. If these things are not done, the continued pull of the Vigors and the Vagaries on the human condition will doom history to repeat itself. A radical notion, you say? You are right, my dear, but it is far more than that! To us old mystics, it seems downright treasonous! But that’s the strange thing about a truly honorable peace, Shailiha. For it to last and to be effective, each side—even the victors—must make sacrifices. That’s the mistake that the late Directorate made with the Coven of Sorceresses, and no one need tell you about how that came back to haunt us! If Tristan and the Inkai can one day defeat Rustannica, the craft and the world it governs will likely change forever.”

  Taking his gaze from hers, Faegan looked out toward the eastern horizon.

  “I hope we will all live to see that day,” he added quietly.

  “As do I, old friend,” replied the princess.

  Just then a Night Witch flew up alongside the litter and shouted something to Traax. Traax nodded, then ordered her to return to the formation. He was by Shailiha’s side in seconds.

  “Sigrid informs us that the coast is near, Jin’Saiou,” he said. “What are your orders?”

  Shailiha looked eastward to where the sea met the shore. The Cavalon Delta lay there, the Sippora separating into three streams across its marshy land before it flowed into the sea. Khristos could be hiding in one or more of those branches, or in none of them, she realized.

  “We will perform this search one stream at a time,” she ordered. “If he is not found, we will search the next one and finally the third, if need be. Only when we know that all three branches are free of him will we turn westward and search the river proper. Order Sigrid to lead us toward the shoreline where the southernmost branch meets the sea. We will start our search there.”

  Traax stood and snapped his boot heels together. “Very good, Highness,” he answered. Looking toward his warriors, he immediately began barking out orders. At once the entire war party started its descent and turned southeast.

  Within moments they had arrived. As the flight of warriors swooped low over the estuary, Shailiha turned to Faegan and nodded.

  At once the crippled wizard lifted the precious vial from his lap and poured some of the precious subtle matter onto the surface of the stream. As it landed atop the water, he recited the incantation supplied to him by the Inkai.

  When he finished, Shailiha gave him a worried look. “Can this actually work?” she asked. “It seems impossible…”

  “I understand,” Faegan answered, his eyes glued intently on the water. “Even so, because this part of the process has been taught to us by the Inkai, I do not doubt its efficacy. Once Khristos has been found, it’s the next part of the plan that gives me pause.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because we will then be relying on Failee’s mastery of the craft, rather that the expertise of the Shashidans,” he answered, still searching the water for signs of life. “The First Mistress was brilliant, but the secret spell that she devised to deal with Khristos and then hid in her grimoire remains untested—it must be so, or the Viper Lord and his servants would already be dead. Thus, we cannot be sure that it will work. An unproven spell is a dangerous thing, Princess. For each way that it can go right, there are always one hundred ways for it to go wrong. We agree that it worked at one time, because as you know, Succiu once used it centuries ago to torture someone who would later become a member of the Conclave. But that person had been human, and our enemies are not. If the spell does not perform exactly as outlined in Failee’s grimoire, we might accomplish no more than to unleash an even greater monster of some kind. I suspect that even Failee was unsure how her original spell might have affected Khristos and the viper embryos when she first condemned them to that river in Hartwick Wood. If they were somehow further changed without her knowing, all of this might be a grave mistake.”

  Faegan shook his head as he suddenly grasped a bizarre irony.

  “For the first time in my more than three centuries of existence, I am forced to hope that one of the First Mistress’s spells works perfectly,” he said ruefully. “May the Afterlife forgive me for this use of the Vagaries.”

  Shailiha looked back down at the southernmost stream and saw that the telltale phenomena described by the Inkai were not appearing.

  “We have failed here,” she said. “We must search the next branch.”

  After Shailiha shouted out new orders to Traax, the Minion commander relayed them to Sigrid and the war party turned north. Soon they were at the shoreline where the middle stream met the sea. Again the Jin’Saiou nodded to Faegan, and the wizard started the painstaking process anew. After more subtle matter had been dropped onto the water, Faegan again recited the incantation. Tense moments passed as the war party hovered, every eye trained on the dark, rippling water below.

  Suddenly Shailiha saw the glow of the craft appear. The process was mesmerizing. Little by little, azure dots of light were gathering atop the surface of the tributary. Before she knew it there were thousands of them, each one signifying the exact place where a Blood Viper lurked in the water below.

  Then her blood ran cold as she realized that the multitudes of haunting azure dots were slowly moving toward the restless ocean. In mere moments the first of them would enter the Sea of Whispers and perhaps escape forever. Desperate to start the second part of the process, she turned toward Faegan.

  “We’ve found them!” she shouted. “But we have little time! You must call Failee’s spell before they reach the sea!”

  Everyone in the war party knew how vitally important it was that Faegan perform the next part of the attack flawlessly, lest the monsters and their terrible leader escape them forever. Summoning all of his power, Faegan began reciting Failee’s centuries-old incantation:

  ’Tis your blood that is sought;

  ’Tis heat to be wrought;

  No god or man can end my toil;

  No savior may cause this enchantment to spoil;

  I command your blood essence to writhe and churn;

  You shall feel your very soul to burn.

  Her heart in her throat, Shailiha stared breathlessly at the water.

  CHAPTER XLVII

  STANDING ON THE FOREDECK OF THE TAMMERLAND, Tristan could scarcely believe his eyes. The scene unfolding all around him was overwhelming, proving once and for all that the War of Attrition was indeed conducted on a scale that he and his fellow Eutracians could once have scarcely dreamed of. Yet here they were, about to become a part of it. Simply contemplating the coming fight caused his newly gifted blood to pulse stronger.

  Two days had passed since the Inkai granted him their versions of the banned forestallments. Just as the elders had feared, the ordeal had almost destroyed him. Twice during the agonizing process he nearly died, his heart beating so wildly that it almost ruptured as Wigg, Tyranny, Jessamay, and the Inkai watched and worried.

  Only Mashiro’s craft skills kept Tristan from perishing as the spells first assault
ed his blood, then finally became part of it. The process complete, he had lain senseless in his private quarters for four more hours before regaining consciousness.

  Tristan had awoken weakened and confused. Wigg, Jessamay, Tyranny, and Hoshi were all there waiting to welcome him back to the world. He spent the remainder of that day and night resting. On the following morning he felt much like his old self again and he had demanded a hearty breakfast.

  With Wigg and Jessamay looking on, Tristan spent the following day with Mashiro as the Inkai elder explained his new gifts and instructed him in how to summon and dismiss them. Tristan’s new abilities sounded so awesome that he and the other Eutracians could scarcely believe what they were hearing. Along with his instruction to Tristan, Mashiro added a grave warning: Because you are still unaccustomed to your powers, they are not to be summoned until they are needed on the battlefield, he cautioned the Jin’Sai. And only on Hoshi’s orders, he added.

  Later that day, the Inkai granted him, Wigg, Jessamay, Astrid, and Phoebe the much-needed language forestallments that allowed them to speak both Shashidan and Rustannican. The Eutracian mystics were astounded at how suddenly their new gifts took hold, causing them to involuntarily slip from one of the three languages now at their command into another one almost without knowing. Smiling at their ineptitude, Mashiro told them that with practice, their control over the languages would soon improve.

  The next morning, Tristan stood squarely on the deck of the Tammerland watching the Shashidan forces gather for the coming fight. He understood all too well that he was an irrevocably changed man. Never again would he return to the lesser being that he had once been, nor could he envision wishing to so do. It was his destiny to take part in this fight.

  Tristan had never felt so powerful, so alive. He knew instinctively that even his gift of K’Shari paled when compared to the new powers flowing through his veins. He felt like a towering giant among men, as if his will alone could shape the world and its events to his liking. Moreover, it was all he could do to keep from using his gifts here and now. They beckoned to him, begging to be used. But as much as these new feelings enthralled him, they also worried him.

  He wisely confided in Wigg and Mashiro his desire to loose his gifts prematurely. As Wigg listened, he became very concerned. Mashiro did his best to reassure them by saying that the Inkai believed this was to be expected. Given the nature of the Jin’Sai’s blood and the immense power it now held, how could one imagine otherwise? he asked.

  He went on to say that the Inkai also believed that Tristan’s mind would overcome these temptations, just as they guessed Vespasian’s had done. Although Tristan’s blood had been granted these unprecedented gifts, it had not been fundamentally changed. Tristan’s great need to be errant was not dangerous, Mashiro added, provided the Jin’Sai controlled his new gifts to the best of his abilities and employed them only in the service of the Vigors. By granting him the banned forestallments, the Inkai had placed more trust in him than in any other human being that had ever existed in the history of Shashida. Listen to Hoshi and use your new gifts wisely, Mashiro said, lest the world suffer at your hand rather than be helped by it.

  With the arrival of Tristan’s new gifts, everyone seemed to regard him with awe and apprehension. The Shashidans bowed deeper toward him, and when they spoke their tones conveyed even greater humility and reverence. Even his fellow Eutracians seemed unsure how to behave in his presence. Such behavior toward him seemed only to heighten his newfound sense of separateness.

  Hearing boot heels strike the deck, Tristan turned to see Wigg approaching. Like Tristan, the First Wizard had chosen to go to war wearing his customary Eutracian clothes. Although he and Tristan had become accustomed to Shashidan garb, today their old clothes felt more appropriate. Tristan’s worn leather vest, black breeches, and knee boots seemed like old friends, as did his dreggan and his throwing knives. Like Tristan’s clothes, Wigg’s boots and worn gray robe had been spotlessly cleaned. For a long time the two friends simply stared in awe at the gathering Shashidan forces.

  “Have you ever seen the like?” Tristan asked, using the Shashidan dialect.

  Remaining silent for a time, Wigg placed his hands into opposite robe sleeves.

  “There simply are no words,” he finally answered in kind.

  As the Shashidan war forces gathered around the two Black Ships, Wigg empowered the Tammerland while Jessamay piloted the Ephyra, the Eutracian vessels hovering side by side at an attitude of about one hundred meters. Tyranny, Scars, and Ox were also aboard the Tammerland, while Phoebe and Astrid were stationed on the Ephyra. The Black Ships’ decks were swarming with Tristan’s Minions, each warrior spoiling for a fight. Even the stalwart Minions had been rendered speechless as they too watched the massive Shashidan army gather in the sky around them.

  The Black Ships’ journey from Ryoto to these distant flatlands had been accomplished by way of azure portals. Several Shashidan divisions, or bunkatsu, had gone through first to make sure that the staging area south of the lower Tani Kinkiro entrance was clear of the enemy. Each division held ten thousand male and female katsugai mosota. Only after the staging area was deemed free of the enemy were Tristan’s two Black Ships and the remainder of the Shashidan army allowed to follow. As Tristan watched the Shashidan forces continue to pour forth from the whirling airborne portals, their growing ranks seemed endless.

  Once gathered, the Shashidan forces would be staggering in their power. Each cohort, or kensai, held ten divisions, for a total of one hundred thousand fighters. Like the Rustannican legions, each kensai was commanded by an expert mystic or mahotsukai. The Shashidan army held thirty kensai, meaning that it easily numbered three million katsugai. Julia Idaeus had informed them that the Rustannican legions numbered at least that many soldiers, perhaps more. As Tristan looked around he realized that when finally assembled, the Shashidan forces would stretch across the sky as far as the eye could see. Six million warriors would soon clash in one of the mightiest struggles ever witnessed on earth.

  The Shashidan attack would be partly an airborne assault and a partly a ground assault, Mashiro had told the Eutracians. The goal was to strike with speed and surprise while Vespasian’s troops were still busy plundering the gold. Half of the Shashidan forces were already on their way north by azure portal to a point above the far entrance to the Tani Kinkiro. When both staging areas were ready, two opposing Shashidan attacks would crush Vespasian’s legions guarding the valley entrances and then proceed toward each other down the valley’s length, killing as they went. Vespasian’s legions situated in the valley would be forced to hold their positions if they wished to keep on harvesting gold. But the trapped Rustannican forces would surely fight back with everything they had, and the struggle would be savage in its ferocity.

  The Inkai guessed that Vespasian would realize it was better to keep what gold he had taken and retreat to fight another day, rather than remain in the valley and fight it out. The loss of the gold would be unfortunate, Mashiro said, for it would enable Vespasian to continue fighting this war for decades to come or longer. Even so, during the brief time available to them, the Rustannicans could not have pilfered enough gold to make any appreciable difference to the Shashidan coffers.

  Taking back the valley was the main goal, the Inkai decided. But should Vespasian foolishly decide to fight to the end, the katsugai would gladly oblige him. So as to speed the lightning Shashidan attack, no slow-moving supply lines would be established unless the battle became a protracted one. Like the Rustannicans, the Shashidans had conjured beasts at their disposal. But because transporting and handling the various Vigors beasts was a laborious process, it was decided that they would not be employed despite the presence of Rustannican Blood Stalkers and Bedevilers. The katsugai mosota understood that they alone would bear the full weight of the attack, and they accepted the responsibility with relish.

  As Tristan and Wigg watched, ever more Shashidan airborne war barges exited the a
zure portals, each one crammed full of katsugai mosota. Soon the great airships would blot out the sky. When Tristan had first seen the Black Ships, he was staggered by their size. He couldn’t imagine that any vessel of the sea or of the air might eclipse them in sheer magnitude. But he had been wrong.

  Unlike the frigatelike Black Ships, the Shashidan vessels were true barges. Also known as tataki fune, their primary mission was to bring as many katsugai to the fight as possible while protecting them at the same time. Azure portals were infinitely faster at transporting soldiers and materiel, but their inherent drawback was the immediate vulnerability of those rushing from its depths as they emerged onto the battlefield. Although far slower, the flying barges afforded greater protection to the troops while deploying them where the real fighting raged.

  Each tataki fune was square in shape, measuring four hundred meters on every side. Their hulls were flat, and each one could accommodate a full Shashidan division of ten thousand katsugai. Made of wood and protected against harm by Inkai enchantments, they carried no sails but were empowered by expert katsugai craft practitioners, four to each barge. Their wooden sides were straight and flat, with portholes through which the katsugai mosota and barge pilots could look out. Each tataki fune was painted a vibrant color matching the armor color of the katsugai division that it carried. To give them a fearsome appearance, intricately carved heads representing various Shashidan mythological beasts projected from their bows, and corresponding tails were fixed to their sterns. They were truly amazing craft constructs, and their magnificence only added to Tristan’s growing sense of awe.

  And commanding it all—her authority over all the Shashidan forces absolute—was the woman called Hoshi of the House of Lotus Blossoms.

 

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