The Silent Tempest (Book 2)

by Michael G. Manning

  “You still haven’t told me your purpose.”

  Letting his shoulders droop he made a show of giving in, “If you promise you won’t tell Kate…”

  “What has she to do with this?”

  “I want to make a present for her. If she had a box that could preserve meat and other things, it would be a great help for her,” he answered. He kept his mind purely on that thought. That was his only motive. There was nothing else.

  Lyralliantha’s stance softened, “Would it mean so much to her?”

  He nodded.

  “Very well,” she said, acquiescing. “I will create a small one, but you must only study it. Do not attempt anything unless I am with you.”

  Tyrion smiled, “Of course.”

  ***

  Another week passed, but unlike those in the past, the present week, and those in the future, promised many positive changes. The buildings around Albamarl were growing as Ryan’s plan for expansion slowly unfolded. Tyrion’s home itself would soon begin expanding once they were free to turn their attention and efforts to it.

  The latest arrival of goods from Colne had included wool and some linen from Lincoln. Fiona and Dalton Brown had come along with the shipment, bringing not only the cloth, but needles and thread as well. David had grown up learning the tailor’s trade from his father, and with Abby and some of the other’s help he began to fashion new clothes for them all.

  They were no longer slaves.

  The return of clothing was a great relief to them, although most of them were already used to the nudity that had been forced upon them. It gave their small community a sense of a growing civilization. Albamarl was more than just a house now, it was a new future.

  “We will be wealthy,” said Tad Hayes, speaking to his father, Tom, before he left to return to Colne.

  “The iron won’t be enough, Son,” said Tom. “There’s only so much need for it in Colne and Lincoln. You’ve already upset the metals trade.”

  “There will be other things, Dad,” said the young man. “We can do so much more. You’ll see. The trade will make you and Mom wealthy as well.”

  Later he spoke with Ryan, “Have you given thought to walls?”

  “They are in the plans,” said his half-brother.

  “Perhaps we should work on those next,” suggested Tad.

  “Worried about wolves stealing our animals?”

  Tad glanced toward the giant trees, “Walls have other purposes.”

  “I don’t think they’ll be much use if that’s your fear,” opined Ryan. “You know as well as I do that in the sort of fights we might someday face walls will be of little use.”

  “It would make me feel better,” said Tad. “We’ve gained so much, but it doesn’t feel secure.”

  “The only security we have,” replied Ryan, “is that they don’t want to mess with him.” He hooked his thumb in the direction of Tyrion.

  Their conversation ended at that point, for Emma appeared, “Ryan, can I talk to you for a bit?”

  “Sure,” Ryan responded immediately, his eyes lighting up when he heard her voice.

  “Again,” sighed Tad, watching the two of them move away. “He spends too much time with her,” he muttered to himself.

  ***

  It was several days later when it happened.

  Tyrion was outside, planning the demolition of the back wall of his house, to make way for the new nursery, when he felt their presence. Letting his magesight roam outward, he was immediately alarmed. They were everywhere, at the range of his senses but moving closer. A vast array of She’Har. No, not She’Har alone, most of them are krytek.

  He yelled, calling to the others who were mostly in the front yard, but Emma was already moving. Her magesight was as good as his own, and she had detected the krytek as well. Everyone began running, gathering in front of the main house.

  Joining them, Tyrion found Brigid already by his side. He had been so preoccupied he hadn’t even noticed his dark shadow taking her place next to him. Her face held no expression, but her aura gave the impression of eagerness. She wants to fight.

  The others were not so thrilled by the new development.

  “What do we do?” said Emma anxiously.

  Tyrion sighed. All his plans had come to naught. The She’Har had finally made their decision. Justice would never be satisfied. The numbers surrounding Albamarl were in the thousands, and they weren’t composed of the naïve children of the She’Har, they were mostly krytek, the battle-ready creations of the father-trees.

  “We die,” he told them. “This is far too soon for anything I had considered.”

  Kate was standing nearby. “Don’t try to send me away,” she warned him.

  He laughed, “It wouldn’t do any good. There is no safe place. You will die beside me.”

  “Where’s Lyralliantha?” asked David.

  “She went to the Illeniel Grove this morning,” he told them.

  “She’s betrayed us,” spat Ian.

  “Watch your mouth, boy,” threatened Tyrion. “Use your brain. You’ll notice that the krytek are coming from every direction but the Illeniel Grove. They’re the only ones who aren’t involved in this.”

  “Could we take shelter there?” suggested Abby.

  Violet nodded, desperate for any hope, “She’s right! We could make a run for it.”

  “It’s too late for that,” Tyrion informed them. “There are Mordan among them, and they’re within visual range of us now. Move close to the house, don’t leave room for them to teleport behind us. Form a circle and be careful not to cut the person next to you.”

  Enchanted shields flickered into life around each of them, and their arm-blades glowed with deadly aythar as they moved to obey.

  He began issuing more orders, “Brigid, stay beside me. I want you to kill anyone who enters the circle. Protect me while I work. Kate, sit with me until it’s over.”

  Sitting cross-legged, he held Kate in front of him, kissing her cheek once more. Her body was tense with fear and anger. “Don’t leave me,” she said.

  “What do you want me to do?” asked Layla.

  The Prathion mage didn’t have the tattoos he had given his children, and Tyrion knew she would be the first to die if she fought alongside them. “Lie down beside us and put a shield over us. Make it as strong as you can manage but do nothing else.”

  “I can fight, Tyrion,” she replied, rebelliously.

  “Not this fight, you can’t. If you survive the early attacks, dismiss your shield and make yourself invisible. You’re the only one with a chance of escaping.”

  “I can hide someone else with me,” she told him.

  “Take Kate then.”

  “No,” said Kate. “I die with you.”

  He dipped his head in reluctant agreement. “I’m not sure what will happen,” he said truthfully, “but I will make sure the wind finishes you before they reach you, even if I’m gone.” He closed his eyes, focusing on the voice of the wind.

  Before he even finished the words a krytek appeared within the circle and several others popped into being just outside it. Brigid leapt toward her new opponent with glee, ripping through its spellwoven protections before it could even get its bearings. The battle had begun.

  More krytek appeared farther back as the Mordan vanguard began their assault. Strange spellweavings appeared in their hands, long tube-like constructions. Their purpose wasn’t immediately apparent, until one of them leveled it at the circle of defenders. Channeling aythar along it, a deadly beam of focused power slammed into Anthony, piercing his enchanted shield and destroying his left leg. Screaming, the boy fell.

  The winds were already roaring, but there wasn’t time. The other krytek were aiming their new weapons, and Tyrion’s children knew they were doomed. The She’Har had taken no chances, choosing to strike hard and fast, with overwhelming force and numbers.

  Dozens more krytek appeared inside the front yard, and hundreds more beyond it in the field arou
nd Albamarl. The Prathion had emerged from hiding.

  Faster, thought Tyrion, but the thought didn’t help. The more he verbalized his needs internally, the harder it was to reach the place he needed to be. The wind was there, but it seemed too far away. Let me do this, he begged. Let me kill them all. That’s all I want.

  Before the Mordan could unleash their next attack the Prathion soldiers cut them down. Their appearance hadn’t been in support, they had lain in ambush. The remaining Mordan began teleporting at random, flickering in and out as they sought to avoid their murderous brothers.

  Strange shapes flew overhead as the Gaelyn Grove’s krytek joined the battle, followed shortly thereafter by the Centyr. Spellbeasts and strange monstrosities rushed to destroy the Prathion krytek.

  “Some of them are here to help us!” shouted Emma. “Tighten the circle. Abby help Anthony while they’re distracted.”

  More of the Mordan appeared within the circle, but no matter their size or shape, Brigid destroyed them. She moved like an evil wind, her arm blades sweeping out to divide anything that tried to oppose her. No defense could withstand her power, and when the circle was empty, she turned her will to disrupting those who fought with the Prathions beyond it.

  At range, her attacks were useless against the She’Har shields. Even Emma’s precise strikes were unable to penetrate their spellwoven defenses. Instead, Tyrion’s children used their power to confuse and distract their enemies, knocking them off balance at critical moments or removing the earth from beneath them when they threatened the Prathions.

  It was all pointless, though. The Prathions were not enough to stand against the combined might of the other three groves. Anyone with eyes could see what the inevitable conclusion would be.

  The sky overhead was still and clear, but in the distance it had grown dark. A strange howling could be heard, rising in pitch and volume with each minute that passed. A massive storm was brewing, and Kate could feel a change in Tyrion where he sat behind her. Glancing down, she saw that his arms had become translucent. He was fading away…

  The Mordan were desperate to press home their attack before the storm could grow worse, but no matter how many teleported into the circle Brigid cut them down before they could act. With the help of the Gaelyn and Centyr reinforcements they had regained control of the field, and the remainder of the initial strike force brought their new spellwoven weapons to bear once more.

  Emma saw them preparing to attack once more, and she knew they couldn’t survive the krytek’s ranged weapons. Anthony was proof enough of that. On instinct alone she called to the earth, and the ground around them rose, gigantic slabs of bedrock erupting from the soil to protect them.

  The Mordan beams tore through the heavy stone as though it were tissue, but the rock had robbed them of some of their power. Where the beams came through and struck one of the teens it was deflected. Their enchanted shields held. More stone rose, reinforcing what had already been reduced to rubble, but Emma knew it was only a matter of time. The Mordan were preparing to attack again, and more of them were free to help with each passing moment.

  They were doomed.

  Chapter 39

  A second barrage ripped through their stone defenses, but now they could see that something had changed. The Gaelyn and Centyr krytek were turning to face a new foe coming from their rear, in the direction of the nearby forest.

  The Illeniel krytek had entered the battle.

  They came in the same motley variety of shapes and sizes—from humanoids to strange quadrupedal forms, and even insectoid designs. Their numbers were smaller than those of the Prathions, or any of the other groves, but their movements were different.

  They advanced with deliberation, seemingly oblivious to the offensive power of their enemies. Where the Gaelyn She’Har directed fire against them, they simply moved, deftly dodging every attack. They moved with speed, but they were no faster than the other krytek, rather, they dodged before any blow could land.

  Outnumbered as they were, they took no casualties at first, and once they were fully engaged, they began to slaughter the krytek of the other groves.

  It was a strange battle. The krytek of both sides were immune to fear. They were not made to feel it. Unlike human or even She’Har warriors, they would fight until dead or ordered to cease. The Gaelyn and Centyr began organizing their tactics, combining attacks to prevent the Illeniels from dodging. It took three or four to accomplish it, but occasionally they managed to kill one of the Illeniels, but it was not enough to slow their advance.

  The Illeniel force made a line for the humans and their faltering defense. Along the way they decimated the group of Mordan responsible for the assault on the humans, and once they had reached their destination, they spread out prepared to defend Tyrion and his children.

  A hush fell over the battlefield as the krytek of the three attacking groves paused. Byovar stepped out from among the Illeniel krytek, and using magic to boost his voice, he addressed the enemy arrayed against them.

  “Withdraw! Your goal is impossible now. Further fighting will only endanger the elders of all our groves,” he shouted. It was a statement of fact.

  Abby felt a soft touch, and then she heard Lyralliantha’s voice in her mind. You must stop him. We can make peace with them, but only if he doesn’t destroy the groves.

  How? asked the girl.

  Touch him. You must speak to him, mind to mind. Draw him back from whatever dark place his spirit has gone, before it is too late.

  ***

  The world returned slowly, and Tyrion found himself once more in the world of flesh and blood. A voice was speaking to him in an alien tongue, ideas that meant things. They were silent, but his brain was automatically converting them into sounds. Sounds that held meaning—words.

  What an odd thing, he thought.

  You can hear me, Father?

  The voice in his mind brought recognition. That’s Abby.

  Release your anger, calm the storm, she said, repeating the same words over and over. Can you hear me?

  The wind was already slowing. It irritated him that she couldn’t see that herself. Of course, I can hear you. Stop shouting at me, he answered.

  Some minutes later he felt sure enough to release Kate from his grasp and try to stand. Cracked and jumbled stone surrounded them, but beyond that, his magesight showed him a multitude of krytek. Byovar and Lyralliantha stood just outside the defensive stone enclosure, and with them was Thillmarius. The krytek, excepting those belonging to the Illeniel Grove, were withdrawing.

  He sent his thoughts to Lyralliantha, What’s happening?

  The beginnings of peace, she returned.

  It didn’t feel very much like peace. Pressing outward with his will, he pushed aside several massive stones until he they could emerge without difficulty. Thillmarius stood waiting for him, a curious expression on his face.

  “Forgive me, Tyrion, we should have been more ready,” said the lore-warden

  “More ready? How long did you have your krytek positioned around my home?”

  “Several weeks now,” admitted the golden-haired She’Har. “We suspected they might try to make a pre-emptive strike, but we didn’t anticipate how much force they would bring to bear.”

  Tyrion directed his gaze to Byovar, “And the Illeniels, did you know this would happen?”

  Byovar shook his head, “No. We had only a brief warning, minutes before they came. We rushed to aid you as soon as we knew of the attack.”

  “I see,” he said noncommittally. Addressing Lyralliantha he asked, “What happens now?”

  “The elders will meet again. They have seen our resolve. We will seek an accord to formalize what the Illeniel and Prathion Groves have already decided,” she answered immediately.

  “Which is?”

  “That humankind is sentient, deserving of our protection and respect. That there will be no more encroachment or taking of the remaining wild humans. We would have your people recognized as a
part of the Illeniel Grove.”

  Brigid was watching him, violent energy coursing through her aura. She was ready to continue the fight. Friend or foe, it hardly mattered to her. There was a question in her eyes that needed no words. She wanted to kill the three She’Har standing in front of him and consequences be damned.

  And she could do it, too, he thought proudly. She could kill them and possibly some of the krytek still guarding us. His other children, Layla, and Kate were watching him as well, fresh hope on their faces. Seeing them, he knew his duty, as much as he disliked it.

  “If your people seek peace, make your accord, but it won’t be final until we have added our agreement to the final terms,” he told the three She’Har. “Tell the elders they have two days.”

  Thillmarius’s eyes nearly bugged from his head, “Two days?! You can’t make demands Tyrion. We barely held them as it was. It will take the elders months to create an accord.”

  “Two days,” he repeated. “After that I will destroy everything for as far as my will can reach.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous you can’t…”

  He held up his hand, “I can’t kill you all, I know that, but I can accomplish far more than you realize. The mountains will rise, the winds will tear, and when I am done, at least half of this world will be free of your kind.”

  “Threats are unwise, Tyrion,” said Thillmarius. “You can’t win, and if you force them to war, they will eliminate humanity entirely.”

  “I don’t care if I can win any longer,” he replied. “The question is how much are they willing to lose? Two days—no more.”

  “But…,” Thillmarius began to protest once more.

  Byovar put out his hand, “Be calm, friend Thillmarius. The Illeniel are prepared, we have made ready for this. It will be as he says.”

  The Prathion’s eyes went wide for a second and then returned to normal. He glanced from Byovar to Lyralliantha who nodded once, and then he relaxed. “Very well,” he said at last.

  Why does he defer to them so quickly? wondered Tyrion.