“Is that even possible?”
Jymoor stepped up out of the machine.
“It is. Don’t worry, you’ll find much is familiar here. You won’t have to start over completely from scratch. That might be depressing. Now, you live in this world.”
“Why?”
“This place is very much like the place from which I summoned you. So alike, there was a copy of you living here. But she died. So, I have brought you as a replacement.”
“If I replace myself…if I replace her here, then there is no me…at my old world.”
“Some universes have need of entities like Jymoor. Like you. Others have surpluses of them. Some universe needed her to be dead. This one needs her to be alive.”
Jymoor blinked.
“But why…why did you select a replacement to be like me…like her, when she failed?”
The new Jymoor saw a mirror on the wall and walked slowly toward it. Yeel followed.
“She was a good candidate. Circumstances conspired to end her reign quickly. But her qualities were very desirable in a Crescent Knight. She did not die a failure. She died a hero.”
“And I’m exactly like her?”
“Yes. No. You are a quantity that replaces her in this existence and is replaced by her in your existence in a way that improves the balance across the two. Usually this means you are very similar—unless someone has previously tampered with the balances before, in which case they started unequal and the trade was not equivalent. It would tend to balance them out. That is what I did in this case. Someone previously increased the power of a universe out there, probably selfishly, and this device made use of that difference, taking a bit out of your universe, to supply me with a living version of you instead of a dead one. Either that, or you are a net negative on whatever existence you enter, and I had it backward. Given what I know of you that seems unlikely.”
“I don’t want to know,” Jymoor said. She looked at herself in the mirror. “I think it’s still me, as far as I can tell,” she said.
“You have a sword at your hip,” Yeel said.
“I fence. My brother taught me,” Jymoor said. “Though honestly, I prefer a bow and arrow, which better suit a scout.”
“And you know no Yeel in your world?”
“Yeel? A creature of myth. Wait…are you…?”
“Yes. And your shadow worked with me, here.”
“In this world, I worked with Yeel…as the Crescent Knight! Now I know you’ve hypnotized me. This is impossible. It’s so ludicrous that I know it’s not true.”
“It is true. Please. Try to absorb this knowledge and remember it. Your doppelganger’s sacrifice should not be in vain. Your people need you in this copy of your world.”
“What’s going on?”
“A massive barbarian invasion. You and I are allied to stop it. I’ll give you your armor and show you around. The armor will help you to feel better.”
Yeel showed the new Jymoor how to wear the moon armor.
“The individual pieces feel heavy, but as you get most of it on, it lightens, or you strengthen, I’m not sure which since I haven’t worn it myself,” he said.
“It does feel…different,” she said. “I think maybe I’m still under your spell. All of this does not seem alarming.”
“Good, then you can get used to it for a while. I’ll tell you what I can.”
“I think I’ll need help, being in a different world. Shouldn’t I be mad that you’ve taken me here?”
“This world needs you more. And you can be more, here. The Crescent Knight. The scout who retrieved Yeel to aid your people.”
“Maybe.”
“Your teacher, Master Kasil, will help you. Her memory is much better than mine. No doubt she can tell you many details I’m not able to relate. Minutia, maybe, but in their totality it should help.”
“Master Kasil? Does she know I’m a…different version?”
“I told her you’ve been through a great trauma. Of a supernatural nature. She won’t be surprised if you act differently. She’ll simply teach you as best as she can, although now, since you already know the sword, you’ll presumably have more bad habits to break.”
“Thanks for the positive attitude,” Jymoor said.
“That’s exactly what the other Jymoor would say! Oh, and one more thing,” Yeel said. “I’m a horrible, rubbery, multitentacled monster. So don’t fall in love with me.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Thank you for letting me know,” Jymoor said.
“It’s the least I could do,” Yeel answered.
Chapter 18: Gifts
“What’s going on?” asked Jymoor. Mercenaries milled about in Yeel’s house.
“Yeel has given us gifts!” a soldier exclaimed, showing Jymoor a longsword. “This weapon warms the hand in cold climes and it won’t rust!”
“He’s giving these out to everyone?”
“No. He’s given a unique gift to each of the Companions. He’s been up all night! I told him of my campaigns in the north and of my plans to return there after we’ve saved the capital. This sword is a priceless treasure for one such as myself! And he says he memorized my name!”
“Companions? Did he hire a mercenary troupe?”
“No. Don’t you recognize us? We’re the ones he saved from the stone garden. Oh, you’ve been hurt in the duel, haven’t you? Don’t worry, your amnesia should be temporary.”
Another soldier walked by, examining a longbow so intently he almost collided with Jymoor. A third looked back at Jymoor through a clear crystal shield and waved at her.
Jymoor watched the other Companions nearby for a moment. One stood at the balcony, peering out over the land through a spyglass. Another patted a small bag at his belt with a wide smile on his face.
Several soldiers stood by a large pile of chain shirts discarded on the floor. They each wore a jerkin of a thick, gray material. The whole group had their daggers out, and they were stabbing each other in the chest playfully, yet apparently no one had been injured.
Jymoor caught sight of Yeel at the far side of the room, next to a giant table covered in bags and baskets.
“Everyone? Thank you all so much for your pledge to fight at my side. I’ve carefully remembered each of you.”
The Companions turned as one to look at Yeel. They quickly fell silent. Jymoor carefully made her way forward through the throng as Yeel continued to speak.
“I’m so grateful to you, my Companions. I hope these items enhance your safety as well as increase our combined chances of success.”
The Companions cheered.
“If I may remind you, don’t forget your hemostatic stones. Please each of you take two! Remember they’re very easy to use, and replaceable, so don’t hesitate to use them if arteries get cut. Good luck! We’ll be leaving soon.”
The active talk resumed.
“He saved us all. How could I do anything else but fight with him?” an adventurer was saying as Jymoor passed.
“I’d follow him into a nest of acid vipers,” a woman replied. Jymoor glanced at her. It was a tall woman with a heavy black staff.
Jymoor walked over toward Yeel.
“Oh, you’ve returned? Feel free to take a hemostatic stone yourself. Have you been told how to use one?”
“Yeel, I—”
“And the mail replacement. Oh wait, you have the moon armor, of course. Never mind…though it could afford some protection across the junctures, or in the case of attack from the rear…”
“Yeel, I’m so sorry.”
“Oh! You aren’t coming with us. No need to apologize! I’m so ashamed to have deceived your predecessor. Of course I couldn’t expect you to trust me—”
“I am coming. I meant I’m sorry I was angry before.”
“You didn’t seem angry…”
“No I meant me. The other me. You see, I’ve begun to experience some of my memories. Some of her memories.”
&n
bsp; “Really? That’s remarkable. I hadn’t anticipated that. Perhaps it’s the moon armor? Oh, it’s such a good thing I didn’t murder the other you and hoped you wouldn’t figure it out! Just think. You would now know of my deed.”
“So, the other me was angry at you for not returning her affection. And crazily jealous of Vot. I think the armor may have magnified it.”
“It was understandable. As you now know, I’m also a monster to your view. A hideous creature of the unknown, a demon, no doubt a thing whose motives are parallel to its terrifying appearance…”
“I know you’re trying to save my people. I’m sorry for thinking you selfish. It was a shock. But you were a friend to my…previous self, and you’ve proven yourself to be my friend, too. And your attachment to Vot is only reasonable…given that she must also be…a tall green creature.”
“Oh. Yes, she is. Very smart of you to realize that on your own.”
Jymoor tried to see through the illusion, but all she sensed was a confused man, albeit an unusually tall, thin, and knobby-jointed confused man.
A soldier ran into the chamber, calling for Yeel. Everyone directed him toward their leader. The soldier came up to Yeel and Jymoor.
“Word was sent from Vot. The attack is approaching Ascara-home! She pleads you to embark immediately!”
“Companions! The time has come sooner rather than later!” Yeel called out. “To the fountain room! Await me there. Please don’t harm the creatures in the water.”
“Has King Aruscetar been informed?” Jymoor asked the soldier.
“He will be soon if not already.”
“Come with me, Yeel,” Jymoor urged. “We need the army.”
“I hope he meant what he said.”
They followed the soldier back through the roveportal to Maristaple. They arrived in a courtyard adjacent to the inner keep. Soldiers formed up in the space, though many more could not fit in the open area.
“It looks like the word has spread. Let’s find the king,” Jymoor said.
Jymoor stopped as she saw the king himself stride out of the keep. A group of men followed in his wake, trying to put armor on their king as he walked briskly, which was failing utterly.
“I’m a man of my word. Lead the way, Yeel. The army of Riken is ready to stand with you and your allies.”
The squad of squires finally captured their king and managed to strap on most of his armor.
“Through this portal,” Yeel said. “The Crescent Knight and my Companions will join us on the other side.”
The king donned the last of his armor.
“Send for my horse. Make sure the knights join us soon,” Aruscetar ordered. Men scrambled to implement his commands.
Aruscetar raised his arm.
“With me!” he called. The soldiers gathering in the courtyard cheered.
Aruscetar grabbed his helm and stepped through the portal.
Chapter 19: Battle under a Green Sky
Aruscetar stood staring at the green sky. Jymoor vaguely recalled a time when she found the color shocking. It felt like long ago.
“It’s beautiful. Yet…well, alien of course,” Aruscetar said.
“I promise it’s a world worth fighting for,” Jymoor said. “Yeel and Vot are powerful allies. You won’t regret this.”
Yeel emerged along with a few awestruck Rikenese officers and soldiers. He approached Aruscetar.
“Welcome to Ascara-home. Or almost. It’s very near. I believe your kind can see great distances? It may be visible from atop these rocks.”
“It will take a while to get our men through this portal,” an officer said. Though he stared at the landscape all around, he still had his head. He directed the knights just coming through to an area away from the portal.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t let the enemy know you’re here. Hide among these tall stones as long as you can. Then, attack the rear. That’s how you might be most effective,” Yeel suggested.
“Yes! I understand your plan exactly,” Aruscetar said. “We’ll wait until their forces are committed against the fortress, then charge into them from behind. We’ll form up here immediately.”
“Then I wish you good luck, as I must depart and stand with Vot on the bridge. As I understand it will be a vital choke point for the attack. I have some special weapons prepared for the conflict.”
“I would go with you, but I think I’m needed on this side of the battle,” Jymoor said confidently.
“Yes! We need you desperately,” Aruscetar agreed.
“Then I’ll see you after the battle,” Yeel said. “Exercise caution. A battle can be very—”
“Yes! We know! Good luck,” Aruscetar said. Yeel moved off toward the mainland.
“Yeel! The fortress is that direction!” Jymoor pointed out.
“Oh. Yes, of course. It does go downhill a bit over there. Good point,” Yeel said. He hurried off.
King Aruscetar rolled his eyes.
“The geniuses are always eccentric in the extreme,” he commented.
Jymoor said nothing. She was getting nervous. She remembered her—or her previous self’s—battles against the Quan. The memories were there in her mind, though a bit blurred, as if from a dream. She checked her belt for the sword.
Switch to the sword if the hunting birds are around.
“Form the ranks, and be quiet about it,” Aruscetar was telling one of his commanders. “Use flag commands only, until the charge. Keep the knights here on my right. We can charge along the beach where it’s more open.”
Jymoor watched more men at arms pouring from the portal. The men were grim, but it seemed like there were so many of them. Jymoor had no idea how many Quan they faced, but she thought it must be a lot if they hoped to capture the fortress.
“Up here,” Aruscetar said to Jymoor. He pointed at a tall rock. A scout had scampered up its back face and motioned to them. Aruscetar scaled the rock easily, even in his armor. Jymoor, though strong, felt it hard to keep her balance. She moved up after the king, moving more deliberately. Then she settled in beside Aruscetar to survey the landscape.
From the top, they could see the potential battlefield in front of the fortress. Jymoor quickly spotted the enemy forming up.
“They’re so close. They’re going to spot us if they don’t…wait. They’re moving out.”
The army moved forward. Jymoor watched carefully. She had good eyesight, necessary for her old profession. The shapes resolved into individual Quan. But the front ranks were carrying something over their heads.
The Quan approached the water. They held long flotation devices. They looked like pontoons with shields hammered on the top to protect them. Four powerful Quan carried each one overhead.
“They know they can’t rely on the bridge alone. They’re going to attack by sea at the same time,” Aruscetar noted. He looked back out over the Rikenese soldiers.
“Perhaps three quarters of our force has made it through the gate. None too soon.”
As the Quan below approached the sea, a pink mist sprayed out of the ground all around them. They put up their arms, alarmed. Most of the Quan set down their pontoons, breaking their ranks. They stood, waiting. When nothing happened, their leaders urged them to pick the pontoons back up.
“What manner of attack was that?” demanded Master Kasil. “Poison spray?”
“I have no idea,” Aruscetar said. “But it was completely ineffective.”
“Wait…I see something!”
A huge head atop a serpentine neck appeared from the sea. Then, another. And another. The heads were huge, large enough to swallow even a Quan whole, Jymoor thought.
“That is Yeel or Vot’s doing,” Jymoor said rapidly. “Somehow the mist has attracted those awful sea monsters.”
“So huge! Dragons!” Aruscetar bellowed.
“They’ll eat the Quan!”
Even as Jymoor said it, the monsters attacked. The long necks snaked forward to snatch up Quan from the beach. The Quan started to fight ba
ck, hurling javelins at the sea monsters.
Meanwhile, a legion of the flightless birds stormed the bridge. Huge Quan in heavy armor were ready to come in after them. Jymoor watched the charge on the bridge. She saw Yeel and Vot standing in the middle. She felt a bit of panic, seeing Yeel so close to the front.
Then a huge ball of fire engulfed the bridge where the giant birds were concentrated. A plume of black smoke obscured the scene, but Jymoor could see the light from more bursts of flame.
“You’re right about their power. I see that now,” Aruscetar said.
Dozens of missiles began to fly from atop the fortress. Most looked like fenlar, though Jymoor caught side of at least one much larger missile, probably launched from the ballistae she remembered seeing on the outer walls.
“Now’s our time,” Aruscetar said. He turned to an officer down below. “Prepare for the attack! Knights charge, followed by the men-at-arms.”
“The archers?”
“No time! Send them in behind.”
A soldier brought up Aruscetar’s horse. It had a metal plate over its head and a broad plate covering the front of its chest. Aruscetar carefully stepped down onto it from the rock. The huge warhorse accepted the weight readily. Someone handed him his helmet.
“I’m leading the knights’ charge. Should I fall, save Maristaple at any cost,” he said. His horse bolted off toward the other knights.
Jymoor scrambled down the rock, half climbing, half falling. She heard the hooves of horses moving out and knew it must be the knights. She scrabbled around the rock to join the men-at-arms moving forward with their halberds ready.
“Wait! Jymoor, with me!” Kasil cried. “You see that litter over there at the back of their line? That’s a leader.”
Jymoor felt joy at seeing her sword master bedecked in studded leather and a thin longsword. She was really starting to feel like she belonged here with these familiar-yet-strange people. Jymoor spotted the construct Kasil had pointed out.
“That must be one of the Meridalae,” she said. “I’m with you!”
Jymoor looked around where many of the Companions clustered nearby.
“Companions! With us!” she called. The Companions surged forward to join them. They moved out as one.
The House of Yeel Page 17