by Frank Morin
“Then you’d best be off. They don’t like to be kept waiting,” Abigail said, shooing him from the room. “I’ll double check Verena, just to be sure nothing has changed.”
He thanked her and jogged toward the distant council chamber, wondering about the summons. Had the war started again? More likely, the queen had done something barbaric, but to who? He hadn’t been invited to any official meetings since the battle weeks before. He thought Saskia and Mattias were pretending he wasn’t around.
When he reached the hall outside the ornate double doors to the council chamber, the guards admitted him immediately. The magnificent room awed him as much as it had the first time. It ran a solid hundred yards over warm golden oak floors. Connor had to wonder how far he could slide on that enormous, polished surface if he got a good running start.
A long mahogany table lorded over the center of the room. He bet fifty people could easily fit on each long side, plus another five at the ends. The ten council members sat in their throne-like chairs, along with Ivor and Student Eighteen. Saskia and Mattias sat at the head of the table, while Kilian and General Wolfram occupied the far end. Identical short stacks of parchment were positioned in front of each person. More papers sat in front of two unoccupied chairs, near the foot of the table, next to Ivor.
As Connor approached, he glanced at the high, arched ceiling and tall row of windows that marched down the left-hand wall and bathed the room in bright afternoon sunshine. Instead of baskets of flowers at every column, today they held evergreen boughs that filled the chamber with a soft, pleasant scent.
Every eye turned to watch him approach so Connor waved. “Hello everyone. Sorry I’m late.”
“Welcome, Connor,” Sakia said formally, gesturing him toward the table. Mattias kept his expression neutral.
Connor scanned the group, wishing he could remember the names of all of the councilors. He did remember the council leaders, who sat closest to Saskia and Mattias.
Lord Pankraz, commander of the city watch, sat on the left side next to crafty old Ulrich, the architect of the city’s successful battle plan and voice of the trading houses. Liane, the elegantly dressed matron of the seamstress guild, sat on the right next to jolly Hette, the plump leader of the culinary guilds. Connor hoped she’d brought lots of treats concealed under the billowing folds of her dress like last time.
Connor barely reached his seat before the door opened again and Hamish strode through. He was wearing a new Builder battle suit. Iw as slightly bulkier, and sported an impressive outer layer of leather and steel. Seeing his best friend thrilled Connor, and he jumped back out of his seat to go greet him.
With his helmet tucked under his arm, Hamish waved to Connor as he strode into the room, then grinned at the rest of the assembly. “I heard we’re meeting over cake.”
“Soon,” Hette promised with a laugh.
“Welcome, Builder,” Saskia said in the same formal tones she’d used to greet Connor.
Connor gripped Hamish’s hand and punched his shoulder. With that suit on, he doubted Hamish even felt it. “I thought you were with Jean.”
“Got summoned back. Barely flew in. Couldn’t leave you to have all the fun, and eat all of Hette’s cakes.”
“That new suit looks amazing.”
Hamish’s grin widened. “It works even better. Wait till I show you what it can do.”
Wait till Connor showed him he could vomit explosions.
Kilian gestured them to take their seats, then spoke. “Now that we’re all here, let’s focus on the business at hand. You all have in front of you the most recent report from our best asset in Donleavy. I recommend you study it in detail at your leisure, but for now I will summarize.”
He must be speaking of Aunt Ailsa. Connor couldn’t imagine anyone positioned more perfectly, or more dangerously.
Kilian continued. “Queen Dreokt is rapidly consolidating her reign. She will soon represent a direct threat to all of us.”
Old Ulrich spoke. “I wish she would take her time. Sounds like she’s wreaking more havoc among her own lords than we ever could.”
“She is bludgeoning them into total obedience. We need to make some decisions immediately if we hope to counter her growing power before she launches a new invasion.”
Mattias, who was looking grumpy but trying to hide it asked, “We have a little time, surely. She can’t hope to invade before spring.”
Kilian shook his head. “An army like the last invasion would struggle to launch a winter assault, but there is nothing preventing her from deciding to travel north and dethrone our own king like she did Turriff.”
“Alone?” Mattias exclaimed, not trying to hide his disbelief.
Kilian said calmly, “If she chose, she could. This latest report states that she has raised one of her most powerful supporters from a centuries-long elfonnel slumber. I knew Harley. She is one of the original Petralists, a Dawnus of incredible power. Our contact reports that she challenged Evander. Although they both survived the ordeal, it grew so fierce that they further triggered elemental instability through much of Obrion and destroyed the entire Carraig.”
“Oh, no,” Connor breathed. He’d loved the many-spired inner city, and he still thought of the Sculpture house as a home.
“You did wreck things pretty thoroughly before you left,” Hamish pointed out.
“But I’d hoped they could rebuild.” No one would ever get to run the Rhidorroch again. That thought saddened and enraged him at the same time.
General Wolfram said, “I’ve received reports from Sappers that the broken lands north of Harz have worsened as a result of that calamity.”
Saskia said, “I had been thinking we were getting things under control, but the ground is wilder than ever.”
That surprised Connor. He hadn’t walked with slate in a few days. He reminded himself he couldn’t afford to not know what was going on.
Kilian glanced around the table, holding each eye in turn. “The entire continent could destabilize if we’re not careful. That could lead to catastrophic destruction that could lay waste to every major city.”
Connor exchanged a worried look with Hamish, who was holding a half-eaten pastry partway to his mouth. Where had he gotten that?
“What can we do?” Ulrich asked, and several of the others echoed similar questions.
“Effective immediately, we must order cessation of all slate and marble affinities. No Sapper or Firetongue can utilize their tertiary powers for the foreseeable future.”
That generated a round of angry responses. Saskia looked furious at the thought of shackling her greatest power. She rose to her feet and declared,
“There once was a fool so complete,
He threw himself at his enemy’s feet.
Afraid to still fight, he ignored what was right,
And accepted eternal defeat.”
Connor grimaced. Saskia usually only slipped into her limerick Sentry-speak when she wanted to tease someone, or when she was angry. Most of the assembled looked like they agreed with her. Connor did not want to lose two of his powerful battle stones, but neither did he want to try living on a continent that decided to tear itself apart beneath them.
Kilian did not look surprised by the outburst. “I understand your concerns, but in this report, our spy relates that the queen herself issued the exact same decree across Obrion. If the elements have revolted enough to scare her into caution, we should feel terrified.”
That mollified their anger a bit, and Wolfram spoke into the calm. “Timing couldn’t be worse. I received word just an hour ago from General Rory. He’s hearing rumors that the entire army wintering at Crann may be mobilized and sent to Merkland.”
“Why would Rory tell you that?” Mattias demanded.
Connor said casually, “Oh, didn’t you hear? Ivor and I stopped by after we visited Donleavy and recruited Rory to the revolution.”
“What revolution?” Ulrich asked, looking surprised.
Ivor
said, “Like Kilian said, the queen is consolidating her power too quickly. Rory and I will start a revolution right under the queen’s nose. If that doesn’t disrupt her plans for a while, I’m not sure what will.”
“And Rory agreed?” Ulrich asked.
“Well, we got interrupted before getting into the specifics, but the conversation was definitely moving in that direction.”
“Why would Rory start a revolution now? He’s a commanding general,” Mattias asked.
Connor decided they all needed to understand the truth as much as the Obrioner Guardians did. “Because we’ve proven that Patronage is a lie, and when we spread that truth, it will destroy the stranglehold that the high houses have over Guardians. With the queen tightening her grip over everyone, revolution is a logical next step.”
The gathered company instantly grasped the immense ramifications of what he was saying, and they broke into excited discussions.
“You really proved the lie?” Mattias asked, looking like he didn’t believe it.
“Conclusively,” Kilian confirmed. “The revolution spearheaded by Ivor and Rory will be part of our first-phase response to the new threats in Obrion, but we must do much more. I have been in contact with Prince Theodor and he has authorized a delegation to Althing to formalize a joint defense agreement with the Arishat League and begin drafting battle plans.”
“Battle plans for what?” Ulrich asked.
General Wolfram said, “For potential invasion of Obrion to defeat Queen Dreokt, of course.”
A somber silence settled over the crowd as they digested that. It was one thing to plan a brilliant defense of one’s home, but an entirely different thing to undertake invading Obrion.
Kilian said, “We cannot delay. This embassy is critical, but I myself cannot go. I plan to return to the border to set wards to notify me if my mother or Harley, or both, decide to head north.”
“You can’t stop them,” Connor warned.
Kilian might be the master of the arcane, but his mother had talked about him like a petulant child. He had failed to destroy her when she first rose from the long sleep. Now she was strong, and if Harley was strong enough to fight Evander to a draw, the two of them together could destroy every army Granadure threw at them.
Connor didn’t like feeling small or weak or helpless. He knew the feeling all too well from growing up as a sickly linn in Alasdair, but he’d never expected to feel that way again. The thought of facing Queen Dreokt again made feeling that way all too easy.
Kilian only gave him that roguish smile. “Perhaps not, but with a little luck I could delay them a little. My next duty will be to return to Edderitz. If my mother or Harley do cross the border, their target will be the royal family. I’ll work with them to set up a defensive plan.”
He scanned the somber gathering. “War is coming. A war to make the last incursion by High Lord Dougal feel like a minor clash from the vanguard. We must act quickly, or we may never get the chance to act at all.”
Mattias said, “Then I will go to Althing. I have the prince’s authorization already. I have the authority to negotiate the agreement.”
That surprised Connor. Mattias had seemed intent on staying close beside Verena until she awoke.
“You’re probably the best choice,” Kilian agreed.
“I think Connor should come with me,” Mattias said, looking right at Connor, as if daring him to refuse.
Well, that explained it. If Mattias had to leave, he didn’t want Connor to enjoy sole access to Verena if she awoke during his trip.
Saskia said, “You must go, Connor. You’re Blood of the Tallan. Your presence will lend additional weight to the negotiations.”
Connor tried to refuse, but Saskia supported the idea with such enthusiasm that the rest of the council soon clamored for him to go. He’d just returned from a long trip. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Verena again. He’d love to visit Althing, but with Verena at his side.
“I think you should go,” Kilian said finally. “We need this alliance. You’ve seen my mother and lived to tell the tale. Few can say that.”
That plea effectively ended the discussion. Connor wondered if Kilian might have other reasons for wanting to send him halfway across the continent when they really needed to continue his training, but Kilian did not elaborate. Connor could not think of a good enough reason to deny him.
“I will join you too,” General Wolfram offered.
Mattias looked pleased by the offer. “I gladly accept. They know you and respect you.”
“And I think I should go too,” Hamish said, breaking his long silence. He’d spent the bulk of the meeting listening and jotting notes on a small notebook that looked like a half-sized version of one of Jean’s.
Mattias frowned. “I think we have enough. Your place is with the other Builders.”
Hamish shook his head. “Like Kilian said, we need to reinforce the urgency of the moment.”
Connor added, “Hamish is one of the lead Builders. I’m sure the Althins will love meeting him.”
Mattias didn’t have a good argument, so Hamish’s appointment to the team was quickly confirmed. They also decided to pick up Gisela from Faulenrost, along with some mechanicals to offer as gifts to the Arishat League leadership. Student Eighteen volunteered to round out the company.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Saskia asked.
She grinned. “Don’t worry about me. I love Dagmanson. I once spent three months there doing research in the vaults. My contacts might prove useful.”
Connor grinned, looking forward to meeting another of her personalities.
38
Important People Fly First Class
As they banked over Schwinkendorf valley on their descent toward Faulenrost, Connor pressed his nose against the shimmering shieldstone canopy that protected the long windrider from the icy wind.
Without warning, the barrier disappeared, and Connor lurched forward, nearly tipping over the railing. He glanced at Hamish, who sat next to him on the high pilot bench in his flying suit. “Warn me next time.” He was tempted to punch him on the shoulder, but he’d have to tap granite in order for Hamish to feel it.
Hamish laughed as freezing air sucked away the warmth. “I thought you were eager to land.”
“Not that eager.”
“Don’t be so timid.” Hamish leaped over the front railing and plunged down out of sight.
Connor laughed. Mattias, who sat on the opposite end of the pilot bench scowled. Such a bright guy should have gotten used to the stunt by now. Hamish had jumped out several times on their trip south.
Each time he spent a few minutes performing aerial acrobatics, insisting that he had to calibrate every component of his new suit. Connor could read his friend too well, though. Hamish should have thought about how slow the return trip would be when he decided to leave the Storm in Faulenrost.
Connor studied the valley below. The destruction of the Builder compound had been cleared and New Schwinkendorf was already laid out in the snow, with several buildings under construction. The framework of one huge, multi-story edifice was complete and the outer sheathing and roofing were being added. It swarmed with workmen like an anthill.
Hamish swooped out from under the wagon near Connor and leaned on the rail from the outside. He pushed up the visor of his helmet and pointed at the ongoing construction. “More people keep returning, and literal tons of supplies have rolled in. This will be the fastest rebuilding in Grandurian history.”
“They’ve made a terrible mistake, though.”
“What do you mean? It’s going to be amazing.”
“It’s too neat.” Connor gestured at the orderly streets marked onto the snowy plain. “The old Schwinkendorf was like some untidy giant who liked hoarding buildings.”
Hamish laughed. “I’ll miss that part, but do you honestly think Jean would allow anything that chaotic to be constructed when she had a say in it?”
“Good point.”
>
Student Eighteen, who sat on one of the benches behind them with Wolfram said, “Hamish, do you plan to fly right over Faulenrost?”
They’d almost reached the picturesque town, nestled in the hills to the east of the valley.
“Oh, right.” Hamish performed a double backflip up and over the wagon and landed perfectly on the high pilot bench. Grasping the control rods, he pivoted the wagon and settled it to the landing field just outside of town, next to an older windrider that looked battered from heavy use.
A small crowd was already gathered. Jean stood at the front, wearing a long, fur-lined coat, but no hat. Her thick, blond braid blew in the wind from the thrusters.
Hamish leaped out, soared across to Jean, and caught her off her feet. The two ascended a dozen feet, twirling slowly together and laughing.
While most of the crowd watched the happy couple, Gisela and Dierk approached and greeted Connor warmly, then Student Eighteen and Wolfram. They somehow missed Mattias, who stood slightly apart, but instead turned back to Connor and enthusiastically started talking about the rebuilding efforts and mechanicals production.
Hamish and Jean landed nearby. They both looked jubilant, and Connor loved seeing them together.
He hugged Jean. “I’m impressed. You haven’t wasted any time.”
Jean beamed. “We have a lot to do, but we have a lot of help. Lord Eberhard purchased a large shipment of additional supplies out of his own coffers to help speed up the work. In the past three days we’ve increased efforts by nearly a third.
“Are you sure?” Mattias asked. He’d remained slightly apart as the friends all reunited. He looked troubled instead of pleased. That didn’t make much sense. Mattias was an outspoken supporter of Builders.
Jean nodded. “Indeed we are. Have you not received Lord Eberhard’s reply to your command to cease production and move New Schwinkendorf to your estates near Edderitz?”
“What?” Connor and Hamish exclaimed together.