Alec stood next to his horse with his head down, listening to Armilla. He knew he was too weak to wage a contest with her, so he gave a great sigh, and accepted defeat for the moment. “Let’s go back to camp then,” he capitulated. When he reached up to grab the saddle, his sleeves fell down, giving him pause. The ingenaire marks on his arms were dull and faded, covered with peeling skin. He felt the import of the signs hit him hard; they were a graphic reminder, embedded in his own flesh.
Tears began to well up in his eyes at the vivid reminder of the powers he had surrendered. He’d lost Bethany, he’d lost Imelda, he’d lost his powers, and he’d lost his will to win.
He pulled hard and jumped, barely securing a foot in the stirrup. He paused to catch his breath, and then heaved his right leg over Walnut’s back in an ungainly fashion to take his seat, after which he looked over at Armilla. She was already in her saddle, watching him like a hawk. Without a word he tugged at his reins and began the trip back to camp. By the time they returned to Alec’s tent, the sun was beginning to set.
Kinsey was waiting in his tent. When he entered, she rose abruptly from her seat, and rushed to hug him. He felt her body against his, and his arms embraced her, just as tightly as her arms squeezed him. He gave a convulsive sob, and Kinsey opened up all her powers, seeking to take his pain and instill some comfort to him, knowing how much he was hurting.
“Alec,” she whispered. “You have been so great, and done and given so much. I have waited and waited to see you up again! You’re tired, aren’t you?” she said as she stepped back from their embrace and looked at him. “Get some sleep and we can talk in the morning.” She guided him to his cot, and helped him get under the covers, providing comfort and maintaining a cheery disposition in the face of his depression, then left the tent in Armilla’s company, and Alec fell asleep in short order.
He awoke at midnight, and lay in bed listening to the small sounds that still occurred in the shrunken camp, as someone snored, while a horse nickered gently and the wind flapped a loose piece of canvas. He sat up in the darkness, groped on the floor, and found his clothes. After dressing he stood up, reached to grab his sword, and stepped out of the tent. He stopped in the open street and got his bearings, then slowly walked towards the dark end of the camp where the stables were established. Alec walked among the horses until he heard one nearby nicker, and he knew it was Walnut. After taking his time to saddle the horse and add saddle bags and a blanket, he slowly walked him to the cooking tent. Alec pilfered a variety of foodstuffs to fill the saddlebags, then laboriously climbed up into the saddle again, checked the stars to get his bearing, and rode out of camp. He was beginning a journey to reclaim the healer identity he had surrendered.
Chapter 4 – Bethany’s Duty
Bethany awoke in the morning, feeling alive with anticipation of the upcoming day’s ride in the country with Tritos. The stone ingenaire often lacked that sense of mischief which Bethany enjoyed and practiced, and she smiled as she thought about the times she had pushed him out of his comfort zone with whimsy and pranks. But he bore it all with good humor and patience, and in turn he helped her to be a more somber person when circumstances required.
Today’s horse ride would be their last together before she went on her first assignment for the Water House, traveling to Frame to earn funds through service. An ingenaire was needed to reroute a creek that ran through the city; it served as a noisome open sewer, and she was to spend several days rerouting it into a covered ditch that would reduce the smell and disease it spread through a surrounding neighborhood. Not glamorous work, which is why a junior ingenaire was carrying it out in exchange for payment by the city fathers. An ordinary assignment, but unusually, Aristotle had personally interceded with the new Head of the Water House, a man named Hiron, in the Water House process to recommend Bethany for the trip; Bethany didn’t know why, but she appreciated his support for anything that gave her something to occupy her time and talent.
The senior water ingenairii got the plum assignments, like developing fountains in palace gardens! That’s what she hoped to do someday, but for now she took the duties assigned, while remembering the adventure she had known when the Goldenfields cavalry had taken her to Bondell.
She’d realized she probably wouldn’t have to wait terribly long to be able to carry out a few better assignments; the civil war had cruelly cut short the lives of many of the older ingenairii, and young ones like her would rise quickly. They might have to carry out great deeds and humble ones too, until more apprentices began to come into the house and train to once again take over the simple tasks.
But all of that was in the future, and she was arising today. She dressed and cleaned and prepared, then left the water house and languidly journeyed downhill to meet Tritos at the stables. She was a few minutes late. When she got there Tritos was already waiting, with both horses out of the barn, saddled and standing patiently. He leaned towards her to peck her cheek, and they clamored into their saddles. Tritos was not a practiced rider, but he could manage adequately. Bethany’s mind slipped back again to the long journey she had made to Bondell with Alec and the Goldenfields cavalry. What a trip that had been! They’d lived in their saddles for several days as the horses carried them on the longest ride she’d ever made. And those cavalry riders had been superb riders. They were men and women who felt at home in a saddle.
But this was a gentler ride, and after a few hours they returned from their picnic, pleasantly drowsy from the pleasures of one another’s company. The hugged and kissed, and Bethany promised to write, then they were apart. Bethany had packing to do to prepare for the evening’s departure on board one of Natha Millershome’s ships.
Her journey was an uneventful four days traveling on the river. She enjoyed the travel on the water. It was her element, and she lay in her small bunkroom, listening to the sounds made by the hull moving through the river. An occasional smitten boathand came by to see if she needed anything, but other than that she had nothing to interrupt the communion with the water.
When she arrived at Frame, she had a porter bring her bag to the Golden Bough Inn, a residence often used by ingenairii. Frame felt different from Oyster Bay, or from Goldenfields, for that matter. There was no tension here, she reflected. Is that something a spiritual ingenaire would say, she wondered? The city had not been threatened with patricidal revolt, death of a monarch, civil war among its powers, or potential invasion by lacertii. It was different from Oyster Bay and Goldenfields in that sense, she realized. Frame was a town that hadn’t lost resources, or people, or innocence or trust.
The Council of the city would meet in two days, and she would officially begin working after that meeting. The City Council was very likely to approve paying for all of Bethany’s work, but propriety still required her to wait for contract approval before beginning the work.
The following day, still waiting for the Council to meet, Bethany spent the day roaming the city. She received directions to the part of town where she would be working, and dressed in ingenaire robes to ward off over-friendly men, she walked through the streets to see where she was going to spend time creating improvements in public health. Despite the increasing summer temperatures, she wore an extra layer of clothes under her robes, giving her a bulkier appearance than usual, another way of reducing the likelihood of men making advances.
The ingenaire found the slums of the city where she was to work. She wrinkled her nose and coughed as the unpleasant odor of the stream she observed wafted to her. This would be an unhappy place to live, and even worse in the summer she reflected. A movement caught her attention, as a furtive rat scurried from one cranny on the bank of the stream to another.
“What are the likes of you doing in this part of town?” a hand grabbed hold of her elbow, and she jumped in startlement.
Turning, she saw an elderly man next to her, looking closely at her face. She could smell his breathe, rancid with organic fragrances, and held her breath. “I was just walk
ing around the city today,” she said, preparing to call upon her powers to dump gallons of water upon the man if his intentions appeared to turn hostile.
“Well, I’ll walk you back a bit to a nicer place, and recommend that you not come back down here without a man or two next time,” her apparent protector said. He turned slightly away from her to indicate the direction they needed to go, and she exhaled deeply. “Especially stay away in the evening. Most of the troublemakers around here are still asleep this time of day, but they’d be awake and love to have a chance to meet you after sunset,” he warned as they started to walk.
Eliot was her escort’s name, and Bethany listened in amusement as he spoke without pause about the many everyday things that rose to the surface of his consciousness as they passed roads, houses, shops, wells, and people. Soon they were at a corner where he stopped. “You’ll be mostly safe from here on, and I don’t want to go too much further,” Eliot told her. “You don’t have far to go from here to get back to that nice inn of yours. Just step carefully, miss.”
“Won’t you come to the inn with me, and let me treat you to some lunch?” Bethany pleaded. She wanted to thank the man for his kindness. “I owe you something,” she added.
“Just the pleasure of being in the company of such a pretty young thing has been enough for me,” Eliot replied. “And I don’t want to get too much further into the city where a patrol might find me without a bolthole I can reach,” he added with a grin.
Bethany looked at him uncertainly. Suddenly she realized that despite his appearance, he wasn’t as old as she had assumed. He turned and walked away as she studied him. The ingenaire felt the pieces of knowledge click together. He wasn’t old enough to be her grandfather, as she had assumed. The life he had lived in the unhealthy conditions of the slums had quickened his aging and made him appear much older than he actually was. He might not be old enough to even be her father. Would Alec had been able to cure him of his ills and woes, she wondered idly?
She reached the entrance to the inn, and climbed the stairs to her room. Why am I thinking about Alec, she questioned herself. Bethany opened her writing desk and began writing a letter to Tritos. As she did so, the bells at the cathedral began to ring loudly. Half a minute later, another church also began to peal its bells, and then others took up the cacophonous din.
Bethany left her room and went down to the lobby. “What is it? Why are the bells sounding?” she asked.
“News! News is in! The Crown Protector’s army beat the lacertii out in the wilderness. Goldenfields is safe!” the woman behind the desk told her.
Chapter 5 – Goldenfields Questions
Imelda and the accompanying riders from Bondell and Goldenfields were in the shade of a rock formation as the late afternoon sun began to approach the mountains on the far western side of the Bondell Desert. They’d taken an easy approach to crossing the desert, helped by the relatively mild temperatures before the worst of summer struck. A few plants were still green and the fodder supplies they carried seemed more than adequate to get them across the desert and into the hospitable valley of the mountains of Bondell.
The prior year’s experience in desert riding and arid conditions allowed Imelda and the Goldenfields riders to withstand the journey much better than the Bondell riders had expected, and the respect the cavalry received grew accordingly.
Rashrew signaled that it was time to resume moving. “We’ll be able to cover a lot of ground as the sun goes down and the desert cools down,” he told Imelda. “Two more days and we’ll be in the far mountains and almost home.”
Imelda knew that eager as he was to return to his native land, Rashrew had enjoyed the interlude in Goldenfields. After the ride with the nobles from the battleground back to the Duke’s city, the returning army had been feted with victory celebrations. The duke had generously lauded the returning soldiers, and had embarrassed Imelda with accolades for her service and battles.
For the Duke, the end of the war with the lacertii signaled the end to a series of troubles that had besieged his land, and he showed his relief with lavish praise and revelry that consumed a week. Only once did Imelda have the privilege of meeting the Duke in a semi-private meeting. She had always relied on Colonel Ryder and even Alec to communicate with the Duke, although she had served as his bodyguard often. She didn’t know what to tell him about the war as he peppered her with questions.
“Yes, Alec made peace with some of the lacertii, and let them leave,” she said defensively when a member of the court implied the peace gesture had been a mistake. “And those lacertii went to their homeland to try to end this war, and they know there are people here they can trust.
“That’s why Colonel Ryder and the others let the rest of the lacertii escape without pursuit,” she continued. “When Alec awakens, he’ll explain it better than I can. I didn’t believe it was the right decision at first, but now I think Alec knew what he was doing.”
“If he saved my life, I’d support him too. Nonetheless, we should have followed the lacertii in retreat and wiped them out,” the nobleman said.
“That’s enough for now,” the Duke ended the exchange, without revealing his own thoughts.
Imelda was dissatisfied with the exchange, but said no more until later, when the Duke’s guard pulled her aside, and she found herself in the hallway with the ruler. “We’ve received reports about the outcome of the battle, but you’re the first officer I’ve met who was in the battle. Tell me truthfully if you think it was wise to let the lacertii escape,” he said to her.
“When Alec didn’t kill Rosebay, I was angry at first,” Imelda began.
“Who is Rosebay?” the Duke interrupted.
“She is a lacertii noblewoman who we captured on one of the supply barges. She told us she belonged to a faction of lacertii that opposed the war against Goldenfields; Alec worked things out so she got her own lacertii army, and he sent her back to her home to put a stop to the war,” Imelda hurriedly explained.
The Duke raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
“There were two lacertii armies coming towards our outpost, when Alec led a fight against the leaders of one army until it agreed to follow Rosebay, then he let it go fight the other lacertii army until they agreed to follow Rosebay too,” she tried to expand.
“Kinsey trusted Rosebay, and Alec trusted Rosebay, so Nathaniel and I ended up trusting Alec to make the right decision,” Imelda added. “Kinsey is a spirit ingenaire, and Alec trusts her. I do too,” the guard finished.
“So the Crown Protector told Ryder and the others not to pursue the lacertii we were fighting?” the Duke asked one last question as he prepared to move on to his next appointment.
“No, Alec didn’t give that order. He was unconscious after all the energy he expended on the battlefield. I think the others who survived on the battlefield with him told the leaders what we had done out in the wilderness,” Imelda explained.
“Did Alec agree when he awoke?”
“He hadn’t awoken by the time I left camp, but I believe he’d agree with the decision. Our own army lost a lot of men on the battlefield as well, you know. I saw so many corpses when we rode through the battleground, your grace. I’m not afraid to fight and die, but that battle, well, I don’t have words,” Imelda trailed off.
“I understand. That’s enough; I didn’t mean to grill you,” the duke responded. “You did well I know, and your service is greatly appreciated, as is your willingness to plunge right back in and go help our friends in Bondell. You’ll be sufficiently rewarded when you return, I assure you. Keep yourself and your people safe over there, and come back soon.” He walked off with his guards, leaving Imelda alone in the hallway.
After that exchange, Imelda did not see the Duke again. She felt uneasy that both Ryder and the Duke implied some criticism of Alec’s decision to send Rosebay home safely. If they had been on the battlefield they would understand so much better, she was sure. Instead, Alec, who had fought so hard, so far above
any other warrior she had seen, was somehow subtly seen as weak for making a compassionate decision.
When she got back from Bondell, she would straighten things out for Alec and with Alec.
Chapter 6 – Alec in the Wilderness
Alec let Walnut ride at a gentle pace through the night. Alec didn’t have the energy to try to guide the horse through the hazards of an unknown terrain in the dark, and Walnut had spent the past two weeks without exercise, confined while Alec was unconscious, leaving the horse less fit than usual.
Alec dozed as they walked upriver, away from the camp. By the starlight and the partial moon he had seen Kinsey’s chapel on the hill when they had passed it. They continued to ride eastward, across land where the Goldenfields and Dominion armies had not pursued the fleeing lacertii. The lands had not become battlefields, and there were neither graveyards, nor many bodies still unburied, except for those lacertii soldiers who had died from injuries they received earlier. The ground nonetheless continued to be littered with equipment and material the soldiers had discarded as heavy or unnecessary while they continued their long walk homeward.
After several hours, the rim of the horizon began to brighten as dawn started to appear in front of Alec and Walnut. By the rising sun’s crimson light, Alec realized that even if the river valley hadn’t been easy to follow, the trail of the retreating army would have shown him the way towards his destination. With the sunlight illustrating the trampled ground and all the debris from the lacertii retreat, Alec had no problem in moving ahead. By mid-morning he was worn out, and got off Walnut, letting them both rest in the shade of a small riverside grove of cottonwoods, to avoid the worst of the mid-day heat.
When the height of the heat had passed, he roused himself to get back in the saddle and rode out again, heading east. His pace continued to be deliberate and easy, since he had no deadline for reaching his goal. Late in the day, he stopped to examine a sad formation; dozens of lacertii bodies lay together. He’d seen fewer and fewer dead lacertii the further he rode away from the battlefield, and this particular site was a closely packed cluster of men and women.
Against the Empire: The Dominion and Michian Page 5