by Ben Hale
“I won’t put anything past that woman,” he said. “What does your mother think?”
Alydian sighed. “She’s been absent of late. She denies it, but the loss of her magic has hit her hard. I do not think she is well.”
Devkin leaned over the maps. “I don’t understand. It’s been weeks. She should have invaded by now.”
“Our army has grown,” she reminded him. “And she lost many at Skykeep. She would need time to regroup.”
“Not this much time,” Devkin said. “She’s up to something.”
“What do you suggest?” she asked.
“We need direction,” he replied, gesturing to the maps like they were useless. “You need to know when they will come.”
“I’ve tried,” she said, passing a hand over her face. “Her future is clouded and the only thing clear is her arrival.”
He went rigid. “The only clarity is their coming here?”
“Why would that matter?”
Devkin scowled and stabbed a finger to the map. “You only show your hand when you have something to gain.”
She caught what he was insinuating. “You think she has no intention of coming here. But if that’s not her tactic, what is?”
“That’s what you need to find out,” he said. “Before it’s too late.”
Chapter 9: Council
Alydian finished her work in the camp and then mounted a horse, Devkin on a steed at her side. Although they should have been safe in their own camp, her protector refused to leave her alone, and as refugees greeted her, Devkin watched them with steely eyes.
As was custom, many tried to grasp her right hand, but they invariably flinched when they came in contact with her flesh. Cold and hard, her right arm remained a legacy of her efforts to escape her cell.
She still refused to speak of her escape but rumors were rampant. Many were still afraid to approach, but most had accepted her role as the new high oracle, she guessed partly due to her mother’s support.
Although none outright accused her of killing two oracles, all knew that Raine and Ciana had perished at her hand. More than anything, Alydian feared the result if one accused her of murder, and how whisper would react.
You cannot cage me, whisper seethed. Not forever.
Alydian refused to acknowledge the magic of rage and turned her attention upward. The village had changed considerably under Earl Astin. Now back on his throne, the young man had taken a firm hand in organizing the people.
They ascended the road to Seascape, pausing several times to allow wagons to pass. When they reached the top of the cliff they found soldiers occupied in training, the shouts of officers echoing over the clatter of weapons on shields.
“I need time undisturbed,” Alydian said when they dismounted in the courtyard.
“I will make certain none knock on your door,” he said.
She nodded her gratitude and they ascended the turret to her chambers. Now eager to find an answer to their dilemma, she settled into a chair as Devkin shut the door. Drawing in her breath, she closed her eyes against the view out the window and dived into her farsight. She found Teriah’s tree in seconds and went to work.
The minutes dragged into hours as she sought to pierce Teriah’s plan. Teriah held to her decision to crush Alydian, but as she examined the branch leading to the invasion she found a number of discrepancies. No definite date of departure, the order never given to march. Alone they meant nothing, but taken together they implied a false plan.
She scowled and rose to pace, considering the options. When she’d departed Skykeep she’d foreseen images of Teriah’s vast army reaching Seascape, and still saw the same images. Now she understood the tactic was a ruse, an intent that hid Teriah’s true designs.
She considered asking her mother for advice, but Elenyr had been increasingly absent since their arrival in Seascape. Elenyr claimed it was to let others accept Alydian as high oracle, but Alydian suspected there was more.
“What are you doing, Teriah?” she asked the empty room.
High in the tower, the room afforded a view of the fortress and the sea below. The circular bedchamber contained a bed, desk, and mirror but little else besides a private bath. The fortress had been built with an eye for defense, and lacked the luxuries of Dawnskeep. Still, after her year in solitude it felt spacious, and she watched the sun set on the beach.
Retiring to the chair, she pushed into her future and followed Raiden’s future. He kept his decisions vague, as always, but she managed to trace a branch she suspected was his true plan. What she found caused her magic to disintegrate, leaving her staring at the wall.
She rose to her feet and stepped to the door. When she swung it open she found Devkin outside. She’d been deep in her farsight for hours, and the soldier had used the time for personal training. Using the landing as a training circle, he’d fought imaginary foes until sweat lathered his body. He’d removed his shirt, revealing muscles that defied his advanced age.
“Sorry,” he said, donning the shirt. “I didn’t know how long you’d be.”
She snorted with amusement. “Now I know why all the women are so interested in you.”
He grinned. “My grandchildren keep trying to introduce me to their friend’s grandmothers. You think I should accept?”
“Yes,” she said. “But later. Tonight we need to gather a war council.”
He sheathed his sword. “Did you divine her plan?”
“In part.” She nodded.
“Excellent,” he said. He wiped the sweat from his face then straightened. “I’m tired of training.”
His movement brought the scent of sweat to her nose. “Take a bath first,” she said. “Then summon the others.”
“I’m not leaving your side,” he protested.
“You’re not standing next to me,” she said with a laugh. “Go. My future is clear. Find my mother and I’ll talk to her.”
He hesitated, and then nodded. “As you order.”
After he departed Alydian dipped into her farsight anew to seek for additional details. She kept expecting her mother to arrive, but the time came for the council and Elenyr did not appear. Concerned and irritated, Alydian descended to the council chamber.
Situated adjacent to the main hall, the council chamber boasted tall windows that allowed the fading light into the room. Earl Astin’s father, who had built the table with his own hands, had settled countless conflicts without bloodshed by inviting adversaries to talk at his table. Paintings on the walls depicted past earls, the framed portraits placed opposite the windows. Alydian reached the chamber first, arriving just as Devkin appeared.
“Elenyr?” she asked.
“I didn’t find her,” Devkin said.
Alydian scowled, but Astin and Princes Ora appeared and she smoothed her expression to offer greeting. Deflecting their questions, she motioned them into the room and remained in the hall. A moment later Duke Senin appeared with the Demon Dwarf, the space between them suggesting a mutual dislike. Alydian nodded as they passed and entered the council chamber, and then lowered her voice.
“I want to know what my mother is up to,” Alydian said. “Before . . .”
Alydian spotted Elenyr at the end of the hall, and Devkin followed her gaze. Regal in a green cloak, she strode the length of the hall and came to a halt in front of them. She smiled at their expressions and gestured to the room.
“Shall we?”
“Where have you been, Mother?” Alydian asked.
“Can’t a retired woman have her secrets?” she asked. Alydian went to respond but she turned to Devkin. “May I speak to you a moment before the council?”
“Of course,” he said, his eyes flicking to Alydian.
“We’ll just be a moment,” Elenyr said, smiling blandly.
Alydian didn’t care for Elenyr’s secrecy, but she’d always been secretive. So why did it bother her now? But the council was waiting and they’d come on her order. Frowning, she started to turn away . . .
Elenyr’s eyes flickered a shade of green. On reflex Alydian looked back, but they were the same blue they had always been. Elenyr stared at her with a quizzical expression until Alydian dismissed what she’d seen and entered the room.
Earl Astin had taken a seat at the head of the table with Princess Ora on his right. The Demon Dwarf had taken a seat in the middle while Duke Senin sat on the opposite end. The dwarf snorted at his choice and picked dirt from under his fingernails.
Renowned as the most villainous of the dwarves in his kingdom, the Demon Dwarf carried a powerful fire hammer. He was the dirtiest of the group and the most unsavory, yet he’d played a hand in their victory at Skykeep and seemed inclined to linger. More importantly, the outcasts that had joined their army looked to him as their head, making him akin to a general. Alydian nodded to him as she chose the seat on Earl Astin’s right hand.
“We are gathered at the request of High Oracle Alydian,” Earl Astin said, inclining his head to her. “We all know the circumstances so I will skip the formalities of an official meeting.”
“I never liked formalities,” the Demon Dwarf said. “Or meetings.”
Still distracted by her mother and Devkin, Alydian cleared her throat to gain time. “I know Teriah’s plan—or at least part of it.”
That got their attention, and Duke Senin scowled. “It’s about time.”
Raising a hand to forestall Ora’s outburst, Earl Astin motioned to Alydian. “You do not seem concerned.”
“More confused,” Alydian said. The door opened and Devkin and Elenyr joined them. Alydian spared them a look and continued, “Teriah wanted me to think they were going to attack, but they are not marching here.”
“What does that mean?” Devkin asked.
“The Empire is not seeking retribution,” Alydian said. “At least not now.”
“I don’t understand,” Princess Ora said. “They want the Empire to cover the whole of Lumineia. Leaving us alone just gives us time to gather allies.”
“I agree,” Devkin said. “Teriah will not leave us alone forever.”
“Can you not foresee what she intends?” Senin asked.
“She can’t see everything,” Ora said, her voice full of scorn.
Senin flushed. “They may have two oracles but we have one of our own. Surely she can discern what Teriah and Meressa are planning.”
“Teriah and Meressa keep their futures uncertain,” Elenyr said. “We must make a plan regardless.”
“So what do you suggest?” Duke Senin demanded. “Invade?”
Alydian smiled. “Yes.”
“I’m not taking our army into the Empire without knowing what we’ll face,” Senin said with a scowl.
“We need answers,” Devkin said, offering an approving nod to Alydian. “I’m confident that Raiden will send a message soon.”
“You want to invade the Empire,” Senin asked, rising to his feet. “You cannot know what lies in store, and we will be slaughtered.”
“You would cower here?” Ora asked.
Senin sneered. “A fool rushes into battle and is always the first to die.”
“You quote my own father to me?” Ora said, now on her feet as well. “You don’t deserve to speak his name.”
Devkin stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Princess Ora,” he said, and his eyes flicked to the duke. “Arguing will not determine our tactics. We must consider our options carefully.”
“Is there any other option?” the Demon Dwarf asked with a grunt of annoyance “We cannot remain here. We don’t have the resources to sustain the army through the winter. We either strike or disband.”
The dwarf’s comment was matter of fact, cooling Senin’s and Ora’s tempers. Both reluctantly sat, although the conversation quickly became heated again. Alydian calmed them a second time but the conflict continued.
As they argued Alydian dipped into her farsight. She made the choice to agree and watched her future unfold, watched them enter the Empire unopposed. Although she felt uneasy, she saw no reason to disagree. Realizing they had no choice, she rose to her feet, drawing all eyes to her.
“The Demon Dwarf is correct,” she said. “Who supports invading the Empire?”
“Aye,” Ora said, glaring at Senin.
“Aye,” Astin echoed, as did the dwarf, although he obviously didn’t care. Devkin and Elenyr agreed as well.
Realizing he was in the minority, Duke Senin lurched to his feet. “You’re all fools,” he spat, “and your plan will end in ruin.” Then he swept from the room.
In the ensuing silence the Demon Dwarf smiled. “Let’s invade the Empire.”
Chapter 10: Invisible
After departing Lorendale, Raiden and his companions took their journey south. The disturbing confrontation lingered with them, and they speculated as to the cause of the Teller Clan’s behavior.
“I think they just lost their wits,” Marrow said. “It can happen to anyone.”
“Like you?” Jester asked.
“They’re not so lucky to have her,” Marrow said, and then grinned. “Yes, I told them what you wanted me to say. You didn’t want me to admit that you made me say it?” She giggled. “You should have said that sooner.”
“You mentioned a plague,” Raiden said. “Care to expand on that?”
“I’m not sick,” she said in obvious confusion.
Raiden stifled a laugh and turned to Red. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”
“I just don’t like it,” Red replied. “It’s like we’re playing a game but don’t know all the pieces.”
“We need answers,” Jester agreed.
“But where to get them?” Raiden asked.
Red cocked her head to the side. “In Lorendale I overheard one of the villagers complain about the Empire outpost in Treelan. Isn’t that a village a few miles southwest of here?”
“An outpost might have the answers we seek,” Raiden mused.
“And it would be less guarded,” Red added.
“I’m thirsty,” Marrow complained.
“Here,” Jester said, tossing her his water skin.
She shook her head and tossed it back, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Then she picked up a pebble and flicked it into the ground. Where it struck, a fountain of water streaked upward. She clapped her hands and drank from the fountain. Raiden and Red exchanged a grin and then opened their water skins, filling them from the spring.
Raiden turned towards the outpost. For the next few days they worked their way across the uneven landscape. Littered with rocky hills and scattered trees, the region did not lend itself to farming, but a few hardy souls had carved a living from the ground. Tiny villages dotted the region but, after their experience in Lorendale, Raiden avoided them.
When they reached Treelan they ascended a small outcropping of stone to survey the settlement. It was immediately obvious that the villagers had long since departed, likely forced out by the Empire as they converted the strategically located village into an outpost.
Walls of rock had been erected around the quartet of buildings. The inn had been turned into a barracks and the tavern into a meal hall. The storehouse remained unchanged, as had the blacksmith. The giant oak that gave the settlement its name had been converted into a lookout, with ladders and platforms nestled into its branches to provide an overlook on each approach.
Near the top of the tree a small structure resembled a cabin, the banners on its walls indicating it was the officer’s quarters. A company of Empire soldiers bustled around the settlement, packing gear and supplies into the wagons on the road.
“Looks like they’re leaving,” Red murmured.
“We need a disguise,” Raiden mused. “They’re not going to leave any records behind for us to discover.”
“It’s almost dusk,” Jester said. “We can go in after dark.”
“Did you say disguise?” Marrow asked, perking up.
“Marrow,” Raiden said, rounding on her. “Don’t.”
“But you would look good as a horse.”
“No,” he warned. “Don’t even think about it.”
Marrow pouted. “You always refuse her best ideas.”
“We need to look like Verinai,” Red consoled her. “Not animals.”
She brightened. “She could turn you into—”
“I was thinking of a more traditional disguise,” Raiden said, pointing to a crate of uniforms sitting next to a wagon outside the outpost.
Marrow muttered under her breath, “Magic is always better but he wants to use something normal.”
Relieved that he’d prevented the girl from turning him into a steed, he motioned Jester to the crate. In the bustle of activity the assassin slipped to the wagon and withdrew four sets of uniforms, rejoining them as night fell.
Light orbs and torches blazed to life as four new Empire soldiers entered the outpost, joining the handful of soldiers bringing another wagon onto the road. Jester was immediately ordered to retrieve the rest of the gear from the barracks. He nodded curtly and split off, his expression annoyed as he followed the order. A moment later an officer barked an order at Red to check the fire charms in the meal hall.
She glanced at the fire knots on her shoulder and then to Raiden, who motioned her to obey the order. Bewildered as to how to cast spells for a magic she didn’t have, Red snorted and strode away, leaving Raiden with Marrow.
“Are you sure you don’t want to be a horse?” Marrow asked. “She can still make that happen.”
“No,” Raiden hissed. “You don’t think they’ll notice us suddenly turn into steeds?”
“Good point,” she said. “We should be invisible first.”
She caught him by the arm and they disappeared. They had been stepping between two wagons so their sudden change went unnoticed, but Raiden rounded on where he thought Marrow stood.
“This may hurt a little,” Marrow said. “The last time she turned someone into a horse they screamed quite a bit.”
“Wait,” Raiden growled. “We’re already invisible! You don’t need to change us anymore!”
“Are you sure?” Marrow asked. “They wouldn’t give us orders.”