“So interesting.” Yezani closed her eyes. “I almost wish I had been there. As it was, of course, I mostly watched Oresso Nane’s stethian in action. Those tools are deadly. I almost wish I had one of the terrible things.”
Edmath turned away from the window, putting his hands on the sill behind him. Yezani’s words were true from what he’d seen. Chelka’s stethian clearly strengthened her magic in addition to absorbing the sickness from those she killed. He shivered. Some theorized that ordinarily, Saale killing sickness came from drawing in the ghosts of the slain. Perhaps that meant the stethian absorbed the ghosts itself. He desperately did not want to bring up that theory.
“We could not have reached the High Emperor without ours,” he said.
“Say, Edmath,” Brosk said. “Kassel Onoi gave you those, did he not?”
The thoughts of stethians and Worm Kings felt dizzying. Edmath put a palm to his forehead.
“He did. Of course, I see your point. He should have known we would use them to save his grace. What a poorly planned insurrection that was.”
“Maybe,” Zuria said, “Or maybe, he wanted you to have them. Perhaps for some other reason, true, but perhaps he wanted you to stop him.”
“Now you are being ridiculous.” Brosk laughed from his bed. “I tell you, that battle was too large to be a fake. Enchiel were attacked, some even killed. We are all just lucky the labs of Imperial Saales weren’t a priority for them.”
Zuria gave him a sore look and climbed out of her chair.
“You could be more polite. After all, you barely survived, unlike the rest of us.”
Brosk’s eyes flicked to Zuria.
“You weren’t fighting Ursar Kiet.”
Zuria rolled her eyes.
Edmath raised his hands in front of himself.
“Please don’t argue. I’m sure there is a good explanation for why the Worm King gave Chelka and me the stethians. It is simply not worth talking about until we know more. The nation is at war. Quite likely both Chelka and I will be called to serve the army in the field, if not the rest of you as well.”
Chelka looked at him in surprise.
“Ed, you didn’t tell me you would fight.”
He should his head and answered her look with a solemn expression. His fingers clenched.
“If you go, I will go.”
He folded his hands in the Hesiatic prayer sign. This was the way he’d chosen. As a man, as a Saale, he would not let Chelka fight alone. Resolve not to leave Chelka was his philosophy. Brosk might see honor in a duel, but Edmath would not see others lay down their lives for him or his nation while he did nothing.
Walking through his lab, alone for the first time since the wedding, Edmath wondered if the War Empress would accept him into the army alongside Chelka. After leaving Brosk’s room earlier that day, he and Chelka had listened to the messenger read Kassel Onoi’s demands to become High Emperor and be given the Sphere of Humanity. He claimed the High Emperor was dead in the letter his servant read. Zemoy Benisar had taken his most stern tone and informed him otherwise, and sent him back with a declaration of war that Empress Hayel had prepared earlier that day.
The war would be common knowledge soon enough. Edmath touched the desk by the door and ran his hand along its polished wooden surface. He stepped out into the garden and heard a high child-like voice.
“Maker? Maker, is that you?”
An awestruck smile spreading across his face, Edmath turned to stare at the center of the garden where the tree, Orpus Lengbyoi, stood. The seal Edmath had placed on its trunk glowed blue-green. The tree did not move toward him, but its roots coiled and uncoiled through the earth with what looked like poorly disguised glee to Edmath.
“I suppose it is.” He laughed. “You have grown quickly, good Orpus.”
“I hadn’t considered it.” Orpus Lengbyoi’s voice piped from the glowing circular seal in the center of its trunk. “But these other plants are surely slower than I. Also, they cannot move, but that is because they do not have ghost roots like you gave me.”
“Of course, you are right.” Edmath marveled silently at how tall the Orpus stood, but only due to its speech was he so surprised. The seal he had made should have slowed the tree’s growth, not accelerated it. Some of the red and white-flowering branches were a little off in distance from each other. Lengbyoi was nowhere near as perfectly formed as Orpus Strodusial, but the tree’s colors came through beautifully. It already stood over fifteen feet tall.
“Maker, I know my name is Orpus Lengbyoi, but what should I call you?”
“Oh, that is an easy question to answer.” Edmath laughed. “I am Edmath Benisar, though only of late. You see, my name was recently changed because I have married.”
“I do not understand, maker.”
Edmath thought about trying to explain to the tree about the animal habit of mating, and the more particular human custom of marriage, but decided against it. It would to the tree no good to know and could confuse it too easily.
“Don’t worry for now. I’ll explain when we have some more time to talk.” Edmath couldn’t stop smiling. “First of all, I suppose you wouldn’t mind moving around a bit for me. I want to see if your roots are ghosting completely.”
“As you wish, Edmath Benisar.”
“Edmath will be fine. No need for my last name, my good Orpus.”
“As you wish, Edmath.” Orpus Lengbyoi rose up out of the earth, leaving no hole where it had stood and crawled across the laboratory garden to the opposite wall, branches shaking and leaves trembling, but leaving the earth completely unchanged.
“Wonderful, you appear to be moving through the earth perfectly.” Edmath shook his head with a grin. “If you will allow me to ride on your branches we can visit the outer gardens. Would you like that?”
“Like that? I would be indebted to you, Edmath.”
“Not at all. Of course, I will want your help with things every now and then, but your life is not to be spent alone in this garden.”
Edmath walked over to the Orpus and climbed up to the lowest branch, right beside the seal. As he touched the circle of light, Orpus Lengbyoi gave a whimper.
“Please, Edmath. I cannot see.”
“Ah, forgive me.” Edmath removed his hand from the seal. “I never knew how an Orpus tree, like you, perceives the world. I know you hear through your trunk’s internal vibrations, but never knew for sure you saw only through your seal.”
“It’s no problem.” Orpus Lengbyoi’s voice bubbled with juvenile mirth. “Hold on now. I will climb the wall.”
“Very good, you see my intent.”
“I see better without your hand in my way.”
Edmath laughed again. He had not guessed the Orpus would catch onto humor so quickly. The seal had done wonders and, with pride, Edmath remembered drawing it. He could only imagine Orpus Lengbyoi’s full potential for intelligence. The tree carried him up the wall of the laboratory and glided over the rooftop of the labs and descended onto the grounds. Edmath stared as he saw Elk Legion troops marshaled on the distant parade grounds. Pennants flew on the end of their lances. They rode broad-horned elk and wore long coats of heavy woven cloth.
“There,” Edmath said. “Orpus Lengbyoi, take me in that direction.”
Orpus Lengbyoi did not reply but glided over the gardens, with Edmath clinging to the branch. As they neared the parade grounds the tree squealed with laughter.
“Animals!” It came to a stop beside the dirt of the parade grounds and Edmath hung on as he lurched forward on the branch. “I’ve only seen birds before, but I think these creatures must be elk. Am I right, Edmath?”
“You are.” Edmath took a deep breath as the elk riders raced past. Apparently, the information Edmath had instilled in Orpus Lengbyoi was easily accessible. “They are preparing for battle in the south. The Worm King has rebelled against the empire, you see. I will likely join them when they go, my good Orpus.”<
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“Join them? You would leave me alone so soon?” Orpus Lengbyoi’s voice came out higher than before.
Edmath turned and looked into the seal so the tree could see his face.
“I do not like it, Orpus. You see, I have responsibilities to my nation. You will know that because I put it within your seal. Of course, I do not want you to be lonely. Simply give me time to grow others like you.”
“You can only do that if you live.” Orpus Lengbyoi shifted uneasily in a way that Orpus Strodusial never had. A ghosted root rose up to the branch Edmath sat on and touched his sleeve gently. “If your duty demands you go, let me go with you.”
Edmath’s eyes widened. This great tree was no more his child than any of the small animals and plants he had grown in his life as a Saale. In spite of that, he felt responsible for it now. He thought of riding the tree into battle and thought of all the horrible, bloody things it might see with its magic eye. His heart might break to see this young life, however strange, put through such an ordeal. But how could he refuse such a caring request?
“You can be my steed, Orpus Lengbyoi. You can be my protector and I will repay you with more like you.”
“I would like that, Edmath. Don’t worry about me.”
“I will try not to, but I feel it is cruel enough that we must leave so soon. You understand, don’t you? I’ve listened to many animals throughout my life. You don’t need a human heart to feel compassion.” Edmath leaned against the branch beside the seal, head down. The elk lancers thundered past, faking a charge.
He introduced Orpus Lengbyoi to Chelka later that day. She seemed to have sensed his excitement as he approached. She emerged onto her balcony, hair in a dark cloud around her, and looked out at him as Orpus Lengbyoi drew near. The sky turned orange overhead as evening approached. Edmath stood on Orpus Lengbyoi’s branch and waved to Chelka. She shook her head and smiled. “You couldn’t stand walking everywhere, could you?”
Edmath put a hand over his heart and grinned.
“I didn’t know how much this tree had grown.”
Lengbyoi remained silent as it carried Edmath to the balcony. Its seal-eye pulsed, brightening.
“Edmath,” it said in its child-like voice. “Who is this?”
Edmath looked down at the seal from the higher branch on which he stood and raised his eyebrows. The spiral of light flashed on the bark, white and violently bright. He looked back up at Chelka recovered from her startled expression.
“Yes, I should have said. Her name is Chelka Benisar. She recently became my wife and I became her husband.”
Orpus Lengbyoi extended its ghost roots from the ground. They couldn’t quite reach the balcony yet.
“Amazing, Edmath. You both seem so young to be married.”
Chelka laughed, raising a hand to her chin.
“Men and women are married much younger in the poorer parts of Zel, and in Roshi too from what I have heard.”
Edmath shrugged his shoulders, looking back down at Lengbyoi’s seal.
“Of course, we are not old yet either.”
Chelka put her hand to her cheek.
“Edmath, what is this one’s name?”
“It is called Orpus Lengbyoi,” Edmath said. “And it is the first tree to speak the language of humans.”
Chelka shook her head again.
“What a name. So complicated,” she said with a sigh. “I’m pleased to meet you, good Orpus.”
Two days later Edmath and Chelka went walking in the west garden with Orpus Lengbyoi creeping along behind them. A horn sounded from the outer walls and bells rang throughout the palace grounds. Edmath had known it was coming. The summons of the imperial army had been sent forth. Chelka was to be First Saale for Marnaia Hayel’s army, and Edmath would be her second.
“I do believe that is the call. We will leave within the hour.” Chelka didn’t look at Edmath as she spoke.
She wore a light short riding coat but nothing heavier. Her stethian hung in the sheath at her belt and her hair was tied back to keep it from interfering in battle. More Roshi forces under a Minister General named Eberal Bullosto had crossed the border at speed along with a legion of Palatani mercenaries from the south. They had joined a group of rebels in southwestern Wesser. High Emperor Loi had ordered their advance on Naren Peninsula and Diar stopped, and Marnaia Hayel had been happy to obey with an army composed mostly of her tribe’s elk riders.
They rode out of the gates of Diar before noon and began the march to meet the enemy. Along the way out of the city, he saw the faces of his mother and Zuria in the crowd. The war could be long or short, no one could be sure. Edmath watched the columns of troops move from his perch in Orpus Lengbyoi’s branches.
The men and women of this force were mostly of the Elk and Bear Tribes, though the Moth Legion had detached a company of pikes as well. The greater bear cavalry in the column beside Edmath rode animals of such size that they easily came up to the level on which he sat in Orpus Lengbyoi’s branches. Just hearing their breathing made him glad he would be behind them when the battle began.
At first Chelka rode ahead of the army with the other Saales and the War Empress, but eventually, Edmath and Orpus Lengbyoi caught up. The tree found that if it pulled more of its ghostly roots out of the ground there was less resistance when it moved forward. Gliding past the columns at an increasing pace, they found themselves beside the greater elk carrying Chelka on its back along with a royal lancer. The elk tribe soldiers held their heads high as they rode and their animals were much the same, staring ahead with proud brown eyes.
That night, he and Chelka shared a tent, though they agreed on immediate rest to keep their strength up. The army would move out at dawn again and the sound over five-hundred elk breathing within a mile radius soon became loud to Edmath. His nerves were holding alright, for the little he had expected them to do. He had never wanted to go to war, even in the service of justice.
Survival arts came to him with too much difficulty to be useful in the past. After training with Brosk and Razili he thought himself a bit better at them, but not by much. Even so, he would be no match for a real soldier without magic. His sleep was full of dreams, but none of them were pleasant. He tried to forget them when he woke the next day and found Orpus Lengbyoi waiting outside his tent flap.
“I was standing guard,” the tree told him. “I do not sleep, you know.”
Edmath blinked blearily and shook his head in wonder. He had not thought how much endurance the trees must have to carry on like Orpus Strodusial always had. In some ways, he’d thought of the old tree less like a person and more like a carriage with no animals. It occurred to him that Orpus Lengbyoi’s speech had made Edmath consider the tree a person immediately.
“Of course you don’t,” he said.
The column moved toward the base of Naren Peninsula. They traveled down the ancient road that led that way for another four days. On the fifth day, the road turned rough. The army turned and struck out in the direction of the Roshi’s marching path. Eagle royals reported on enemy movements regularly. Chelka passed on the reports of the scouts to Marnaia Hayel and the Bear Tribe’s general, Cersun Palanse. Early on the seventh day she and Edmath were dressing in their tent.
“The Roshi are of the Fox Tribe.” Chelka fastened on her leg guards and finished tying back her hair.
Edmath buckled on his stethian and sword and glanced at her.
“Do they have miraches?”
Chelka picked up the notes she’d take on the report. “Luckily, no. They are led by Eberal Bullosto, a fox royal in possession of a family of seven fox-kings.”
“How can there be so many fox kings?” Edmath laced up his boots and started toward the tent flap.
Chelka checked over the notes, her brow furrowed. “They are not royals, but greater foxes, with seven prehensile tails each.”
“Still, they are likely no match for our greater bears and the land levoths.”
“Likely not.” Chelka bent over and pulled on a boot. “I’ll tell you, though. They are almost certainly much faster on their feet. The news gets worse. Buro Vonta, a bear noble from our very nation is quite possibly allied with them along with his own force.”
“That is strange. I thought only the Worm Tribe had rebelled.”
Chelka shrugged with one hand as she fastened the straps on her boots with the other. “Vonta is one of Kassel Onoi’s old friends. He is simply supporting his claim to the sphere. Let’s go. They are no more than a dozen miles from here. The War Empress and her advisers agreed to meet them at Abitton Creek last night.”
Finally, Edmath thought. He had the worst nerves of anyone in the camp. He did not live a life of violence in the same way a soldier did. Even his magic was not suited for battle, especially without a stethian. Plants and battlefields, he thought, plants and battlefields do not go together.
He walked out into the misty morning and then helped Chelka break their little portion of the camp before climbing up Orpus Lengbyoi. He took his seat in the top branches. The sturdy tree may well have grown a few inches since they had begun the march as he felt taller than ever despite their position at the bottom of a pass with a small stream flowing down it.
They moved slowly down the pass but well and truly came out of it by noontime at which point the small stream had grown wider. Abitton Creek, Edmath figured. This is where we fight, somewhere on this small stream. Despite the overcast sky, the air was warm, sticky already. Edmath climbed higher when he saw a banner in the distance, a flag with six stars on it.
“Roshi,” he said. “Do you see that, Orpus Lengbyoi?”
“I see it, Edmath.” The tree’s trunk hummed as Edmath had learned it did when excited or nervous.
“Don’t worry,” Edmath said, and stared at the army emerging from the mist in the distance. “We will be fine as long as we stick together.”
Battle Mage Page 9