by TJ Reynolds
“Yes. This is Commander Tembar,” the man before Rhona answered.
A few more formalities were exchanged before the commander fell into the rhythm of a long and orderly report. Rhona’s Hintari was limited. She could order a meal, flirt, or make a few nasty jokes. She also knew almost every command that might be shouted in battle. The rest of the nuanced language escaped her though, and she found her thoughts drifting off.
When the report had been delivered, Tembar cut the connection through the crystal while they waited for an official response.
He then spoke in more depth with each of his officers. It wasn’t lost on Rhona that the commander spoke in Brintoshi, urging his men to do likewise.
He was including her.
One reported twelve spearmen dead, their families having already been informed. Another officer claimed the javelin throwers hadn’t suffered a single loss but that five were seriously wounded, the result of a Brintoshi fire skill.
Royar made the most heart-rending report. Nineteen of the fighters, four rangers and fifteen common soldiers, had died while flanking the main column.
Tembar nodded, absorbing the information. “And what of the enemy?”
Again, Royar spoke. “We killed seventy-one Brintoshi, injuring many more. Those who were captured have already been executed, and they are included in the total.”
Tembar rubbed one of his hands absently, then his keen eyes flitted between Rhona and Tela. “Tela mentioned something of note that occurred at the end of the battle. She claimed that you tore a chunk out of our enemy’s ranks so quickly, she couldn’t see you move. Then she said a man appeared, the commander most likely given his garb and armor. He held you by the throat and head and spoke with you. Is this true?”
Rhona’s stomach churned. She had no intention of lying to anyone, but the moment had disturbed her deeply. She cleared her throat and tried her best. “He did. Hastings… Sorry, I’m just a bit shaken. His name is Colonel Hastings. He was the man who killed Imogen the Earth Core. He asked me who I was and where Ban had gone. He knows they’re at the Sunken Keep, and he… he wants them.”
“Why? Why would the commander of the Vermillion Guard care about a young man and an Earth Core?” Tembar asked.
“Because, he wants power. The rest of the Earth Cores are shivvered. Hastings wants to absorb Ban. I don’t know his plans, but he is after the Sunken Keep, not Hintar.”
Her words were taken at face value. Tembar didn’t question her honesty, just looked more concerned than ever before.
A servant brought the man a cup of wine. He drank it down and sighed, showing his years for the first time. Tembar had been in the field for decades, and his spirit was tired. He smiled at his officers and at Rhona, though, giving them some degree of comfort. A leader must be confident, Rhona mused. At all costs. Even if it means lying a little.
“A true victory regardless of the cost,” Tembar remarked at last. “The Brintoshi will have a hard time of it now. They shouldn’t have underestimated us so severely. Still, had the field been less in our favor, or had we not been warned, we’d have the Vermillion Guard pillaging towns along our border right about now.”
A few of the officers spoke up, adding their own criticism of the battle, noting how most of the Brintoshi soldiers who’d fallen were lower ascended, and how the Hintari forces had lost over twenty fighters that were Golden ascended or higher.
Further debate ceased when the crystal before them pulsed again.
The crone stooped and summoned a bead of ether, then activated the scrying crystal.
The strange voice called out to Commander Tembar once more. After the formalities were finished, the speaker delivered orders.
Most of the command was undecipherable to Rhona, but the message had a tangible effect on the men and women around her. Tela cursed the man’s first-born son. Royar spat on the ground between his feet. The others ranged from concerned looks exchanged or outright anger.
Tembar raised a hand to quiet the group. “Understood,” he said at last. “We shall redeploy in the morning.”
Having served its purpose, the crystal was ushered out by the crone at Tembar’s insistence.
More discussions broke out immediately, all in angry Hintari.
Rhona shook her head, sitting alone, surrounded by long-legged and golden-skinned Hintari.
Sensing she felt out of place, Tela touched her arm. “Did you understand the order?”
“Not one bit,” Rhona replied.
“We’ve been ordered to retreat back to Thristal, the nearest city two days’ march from here.”
Anger stirred in Rhona’s chest. “But the Vermillion Guard? Won’t they just march on over again. And next time, who knows, they might have triple their numbers!”
Tela smiled, her eyes weary. “The nobles seem to care more about their wealth than the welfare of Hintar. Thristal is a rich and bountiful city. It serves no tactical purpose, but if sacked, it would be a blow to the purses of our brave leaders.”
The ranger’s sarcasm oozed.
Still, Rhona found she couldn’t be as upset with the Hintari as the others around her. Her duty was to try to stop this war. She’d done all she could.
A few more minutes passed until Tembar clapped his hands loudly. “Enough! I agree with you all. Nobody wanted this. I have my orders, however, and cannot deviate. Yet, I have an even greater fear!”
The commander’s passionate tone acted to focus the group’s attention. Rhona watched the man’s face as he paused just long enough to pull in every person. “My greatest fear would be what should happen if some of our own soldiers desert us in this trying time. Should the rangers…” Tembar said, staring at Royar as he spoke. “Should the rangers deviate from our forces, they might entice others to join them, those with rebellious spirits and those who wish to wet their blades in Brintoshi blood. I fear such a mutiny might occur.”
The man pointed to each officer around the room in turn. “Your own men could be tempted too. If any officer here knows of such a plot, they will be hanged, myself included. In order to prevent such a tragedy, I’ll be retiring to my personal tent immediately.”
“Any such force could speak with the supply sergeant in order to acquire the coin and supplies they might need. And should this rebellion occur some time before first light, I would hope those brave souls might find the courage to fight all who would enter our fair land. I would hope.”
Tembar’s speech ended, and his eyes were smiling and sad at the same time. The commander bowed his head briefly before telling them, “Good luck to you all, and good night.”
When the commander left the tent, a thick cloud of silence spread among those still present.
Rhona knew what the man had been asking, and was shocked. Never had she witnessed such a display of indirect mutiny. It had been delivered in a spirit of patriotism though. Tembar cared more for the lives of his countrymen than he did for his reputation.
A tall officer cleared her throat and spoke in a similar manner. “I will be following Tembar’s example. I know that a good many of my own soldiers would be tempted by such an action. I cannot allow such a breach of duty. I’ll be in my tent and asleep within the hour. Should any of you choose to act so boldly, it would be wise to speak with Sergeant Rimdal first.”
The woman exited, as did the other officers, all giving some verbal clue that they were opposed to the idea of a massive rebellion, but that they would be indisposed to stop such action should it occur.
The message was clear.
Soon, Royar and Tela were the only two present in the tent with Rhona.
The three shared a conspiratorial smile. Royar was the first to speak. “Rhona, you have already done Hintar and all of Anvar a great service. We will not fault you if you wish to go your own way.”
Tela picked up where he left off. “However, little sister, know that you’re welcome. We will round up any who are willing to come, starting with Sergeant Rimdal. He’s a good man. Crazy b
ut good.”
Another silence followed. Rhona didn’t have to try very hard to convince herself of the path she should take. “I am with you. As long as you stay to fight Hastings, I’ll be there. I must say that my loyalty remains with Ban and Kai. Hastings will be after them soon, I just know it. So when he moves to take them, I will stand in his way.”
“Hopefully,” Tela replied. “We can stop him before he has a chance. Correct me if I’m wrong, Royar, but we’ll head out before first light and make plans to raid his encampment. If my gut is right, Hastings will be making camp somewhere close to the border on the Brintoshi side. There are more places to cross. Less advantageous for a large group, but still possible.”
Royar nodded as his woman spoke, then added, “It’ll be dangerous work, but I think we can keep thinning his ranks. Why let the wolf fatten itself? I’m off for now. I’ll speak with Rimdal as well as a few others around camp. Tela, have a word with the supply man and stable master. We need one horse for each of us. Could be a large group.”
The man rose from his seat, eyes burning with delight.
He tipped his hat and left the command tent behind.
Tela gripped Rhona by her forearms, then leaned over and kissed Rhona on the cheek. “You should head back to your own tent. I’ll rouse you when the time has come. If you change your mind, know you won’t upset a soul. Goodbye, Rhona Bloodspar.”
It was odd, sitting in the command tent alone. Rhona took in the stark and pragmatic structure, respecting how austere it was. Surely, a commander like Tembar could have requested velvet and gold thread.
From what she’d gathered in the short time she’d known the man, Rhona doubted he allowed himself many luxuries in his personal tent either.
She stood and sighed, pleased with the course of events. Still, she feared Hastings more than any other man she’d known besides her father. How he’d acquired Spirit Surge, or some skill akin to it, confused her. There was no way he lived under the stricture of oaths.
How had he moved like me though? And how can I counter his shivving gauntlet?
Rhona collected a bowl of well-spiced stew and took it back to her tent. She ate, taking her time as she tried to force as much down as possible.
Then she waited, hoping Kai would fulfill his promise and show up a second time. Sure enough, close to an hour later, a thick gray fog formed in the air above her.
This time, knowing what to expect, Rhona sat up and waited for Kai’s face to appear. “What took you so long?” she teased.
The levity of her question juxtaposed the haggard expression Kai wore. He looked older, gaunt about the cheeks, and troubled. “I am sorry if I’ve kept you waiting. How are things with you, Rhona?”
“Well enough. We managed to push back Hastings. He retreated for now. I’m joining a group of rebels who will stay and fight him.”
Confusion crossed Kai’s brow. “Rebels? I thought the Hintari forces were all part of the army?”
“They are. They’ve been ordered to retreat to a city and ignore the danger at the border. Commander Tembar is more or less encouraging a portion of the troops to defy those orders. I’m going with them. Don’t worry though, Kai. My loyalty is with you and Ban. But if we don’t stop Hastings, you’re both in great danger.”
Rhona watched her friend’s eyes widen in surprise as he absorbed the news. She wanted to explain further, but she noticed his mouth working, as if he too had more to share. “We can’t thank you enough. Someone like Hastings, with his power, it terrifies me what he would do to Ban. Anyway, we’re still working out the details. But Ban has made a bold move. I advised against it, but, well, Ban is the Sunken Keep now. He has claimed the dungeon as his own and is already fixing things up.”
Kai’s words struck Rhona like a blow to the chest.
She tried to speak but her mouth refused to act accordingly.
Noticing her troubled expression, Kai asked, “What is it? Are you okay?”
Fighting an illogical urge to laugh at the absurdity of their situation, Rhona shook her head. “No, Kai. I’m not sure any of us are okay. I’m joining a group of ragtag turn cloaks like myself, and we are headed off to fight a man more powerful than any of us. Should we fail, you’ll be next.”
The mist that made up Kai’s face grew sober. His brow creased, but he waited for Rhona to finish on her own.
A frustrated tear rolled down Rhona’s cheek. “Blast it all, Kai. Tell Ban to focus on defense. Hastings knows about the Sunken Keep. I’ll do everything I can to stop him now, before he has a chance to do any more harm. If I fail though, he will be coming for you two. I know it.”
18
Of Gods, Kings, and Men
Ban
There was no telling precisely what Kai had discovered in his short conversation with Rhona. Knowing full well the extent of his dragon’s affections for the girl, Ban did what he could to give the lad some privacy.
He did remain attentive enough to notice when the young dragon emerged from his trance though.
After granting Kai a few minutes for recovery, the process of his latest spell seeming to drain him significantly, Ban at last pressed him for details.
Kai took a long drink of water and then collapsed on his bed.
He groaned for a time, kicking out of his boots and curling up. Then he said, “The man who ended Imogen… he knows where we are. And perhaps worse, Rhona and the Hintari rangers are going to keep battling him.”
That isn’t exactly what we wanted, Ban replied with an understatement.
“More like, that’s exactly what I feared might happen should we stay here. Good night, Ban. We can talk again in the morning.”
And so Kai fell asleep, leaving Ban to a core full of mixed emotions. Yes, he still felt he’d made the right decision by insisting on staying in the Sunken Keep. Yes, it was terrifying that Hastings might truly come after all.
Where better to make a stand? Was the one question that kept Ban in high spirits.
Resuming his monumental project, Ban considered his progress in the core room. In a short time, it had already become an inviting place to rest.
Why in all of Anvar hadn’t I thought to make Kai’s sleeping quarters in my core room before? Ban wondered. Yorick would have despised the arrangement, wanting something more formal for his own needs.
But to Ban, the concept felt natural.
The Earth Core spent a few minutes adding embellishments here and there. Other than additional paisley designs etched into the chairs and furniture of the room, Ban also drummed up a proper fountain like he’d had in his old dungeon.
This too, he decorated, landing squarely on his original design.
The scrambling mess of rats had a disturbing look to them, but Kai had laughed. And when Rhona came, Ban was sure she too would get the joke.
Making plans for a formal bathroom, Ban decided to put the task off for a while. Besides, however will I heat the shivving water?
Leaving the unanswered question be, Ban moved on to a more diplomatic chore.
He slid inside of his dalgard champion’s mind, then left his slumbering dragon alone. The hulking minion took the steps back up the side of the keep, leaving the misty reaches of the chasm below. At last, he found the door they’d come through.
Back inside the lower floor of the tower, Ban surveyed the room they’d had their last battle in. All evidence of the foul king was gone. Ban had absorbed even the blood stain that marked where he died and the soot and grime of the bonfire.
Ban was pleased to have erased such a travesty.
Now, if only we can do something about finding a suitable replacement. After all, even mice need a king.
Ban took the stairs up to the next floor, the one so crowded with thralls. The lowly creatures were miserable and terrified. They scattered at the mere sight of his dalgard.
Then, in the middle of a wide room, Ban encountered three daldrim warriors still clutching their spears. They appeared to be speaking to one another and h
adn’t noticed his approach.
Ban lifted his spear and slammed the butt down on the stone floor.
The sound was remarkable. Not only had Ban tripled the girth and doubled the length of the daldrim’s modest spears, making it almost ten feet tall and thick enough to fill his huge champion’s hand, but he’d wrapped the base in a thick layer of brass.
The spear head itself he’d left much the same but for cleaning up the rust, improving its edge, and doubling its size.
His unwary hosts turned and hissed, their own spears prodding the air between them.
Ban wasn’t sure what to do next, so he thought about how he might gesture to the creatures.
Then one of them spoke.
Distantly, Ban could tell the words weren’t Brintoshi. Kai couldn’t have understood a word of what was said. Having adapted his champion largely from a daldrim body, however, Ban found he could understand the creature’s speech.
“Was it you who killed the great master?”
Ban wanted to spit.
Grumbling a bit, Ban tried out his new voice. When it emerged, it was as deep as the mountains. “I killed foul master. The tyrant deserved to die. You are free now?”
There. Now I am certain we’ll get along nicely, Ban thought as he waited for a response.
“Free?” another daldrim asked, exchanged confused glances with his fellows.
Spoke too soon.
Ban summoned his patience, knowing what followed would both be the most important aspects of their interactions as well as the most trying. “I kill foul master. Daldrim free now. Do you want to stay here in big tower?” Ban asked, gesturing around him with his long arms. “Or do daldrim want to leave and find a new home?”
Several minutes of hisses and bickering followed, and at one point, one of the warriors brandished its spear, trying to intimidate its companion.
Ban smashed the floor with his spear again, and the argument ceased.