The Prince of the Veil

by Hal Emerson

  “I’ve always wondered about the story of a wind,” Tym said suddenly from where he stood, his youthful tenor breaking easily through the whispering insistence of the rushing air. Raven, Autmaran, Leah, and Tomaz all turned to look at him with comically identical expressions of surprise.

  “Think of all the things it’s seen,” Tym said, speaking almost to himself, his eyes far away, oblivious to their stares. “All the places it’s been and all the places it has yet to go…. Imagine what that must be like – going on forever, just pushed from one end of the earth to the other, then back again. Sweeping over fields like this, playing in the leaves of trees, climbing mountains and racing back down again to who knows where.”

  Raven looked down over the edge of the ridgeline as the Kindred army continued to march below them, spreading out as instructed, and saw the wind passing between them all, playing with banners and cloaks and capes. It was like a small child, oblivious as to what would come, caring only for the moment.

  “We stay in one place and the wind passes over us and then it’s gone and we don’t think about it again. Maybe that wind that just blew past us was the same wind that blew when we were born, or blew when we all met. Maybe that wind has seen us all our lives and likes seeing us again whenever it goes by. Or maybe it doesn’t even recognize us ‘cause it sees so many things. I could see it being either way. Maybe the whole world is like that – either everything is watched, everything is observed, every breaking of every branch and every twisting fall of every dying autumn leaf, or none of it is. I don’t know which of the two I would prefer. I guess, though, if one is true or the other is, it doesn’t really matter what I prefer, does it?”

  As the easy, wistful tenor of the young man’s voice faded away, none of the others felt the need or desire to break the silence. For the first time in weeks, Raven looked at the world around him, really looked at it, and saw the blooming spring. Flowers were budding nearby, a whole carpet of them interspersed with thick grass that led back to the side of the Elmist Mountains, and the trees that had shed their leaves only a few months prior were slowly growing them back.

  Either none of it matters … or all of it does.

  “Do you really think this is possible?” Raven asked the others quietly.

  Tomaz shifted, sighed, but didn’t answer; Leah grimaced and shrugged, shaking her head in a way that said she didn’t know; Tym, it seemed, had expressed his thoughts as best he could, and so remained silent; Autmaran continued to stare off into the distance for a long time, so long in fact that Raven began to suspect he hadn’t heard the question. He was staring into the horizon, looking over the plains as the sun rose in the east.

  “I don’t know,” he said finally. The sun cast his face in a strange orange glow, his dark eyes clouded, brow furrowed. The responsibility of command had aged him, but where some crumbled under such weight, Autmaran had grown harder and stronger. As the weight of his responsibility had become more and more burdensome, he had become tougher in order to bear it, and now power seemed to sit on his shoulders like a mantle. A sense of calm, directed purpose radiated from him, and Raven was reminded of the deep, assuring gaze of Elder Goldwyn.

  “It must be,” Autmaran amended, breathing in deeply; the dark skin of his face stretched tightly around his mouth as he set his jaw and pursed his lips. Tomaz grunted a rumbling agreement, approving of the hard optimism that Raven found almost impossible to muster.

  “Of all the things I have seen in the past few months, the death of Ramael, the infiltration of the Kindred nation, the fight in Banelyn, and the very fact that you are here fighting next to me, there is nothing that has proved impossible. One by one, things that I have known to be incredible and insane have come to pass. It makes me question everything … including the Tyrant’s immortality.”

  Raven felt his shoulder’s tense, and his sudden discomfort must have been visible to the commander. Tomaz looked down at the man as well, waiting for further explanation, but Leah was nodding in agreement. Below them, the light cavalry was forming up along the sides of the Imperial Road as the heavy infantry lined up to act as the hard center that would bear the brunt of the attack.

  “I know,” said Autmaran, to them, “it’s insane to think about. But Goldwyn started talking about it before his death. Not just with you, Raven, but with everyone. I spoke with some of the officers who he chose as students, and they all said it was part of their conversations. He told them all that he felt sure of it. He’s always said he didn’t see the Empress as any kind of God, but we took it as bravado. I should have known better … he’s not the kind of man who says something without meaning it. I think maybe he was right. Maybe, after all this time, he realized something that makes sense … that she’s just a person.”

  “I’m sad for her Children,” Tym said suddenly, his face incredibly despondent. Raven stared at him in shock, and realized suddenly the boy had never truly spoken ill of Raven’s brothers and sisters. He had spoken of them as broken, as performing evil deeds, but never as truly evil.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, watching the boy very carefully. He realized in that moment that Tym didn’t think of him as one of the Children. None of them did, not anymore.

  Am I one of them? Have I changed enough to escape their fate?

  “I agree,” Tomaz rumbled, taking over for Tym, who had wilted under Raven’s intense gaze. “I can’t believe it. I think they perform evil acts, but that does not make them evil. No more than a rabid dog is evil for biting and killing a child. A horrible tragedy it may be … but there is a madness in both cases.”

  “Madness … yes.”

  It was Autmaran who’d spoken, still staring out over the Kindred as they formed up below. The heavy infantry had been bordered by groups of spear and pikemen to fend off flanking attacks by enemy cavalry. The formation was almost complete – once the light infantry and the Commons took up their place as reserves, the Rangers and Rogues would take their place as special shock troops, and they would be ready.

  “The evil you read of in stories is not real,” Autmaran said quietly. “Evil that wants to destroy for the sake of destruction, evil that does evil and knows it is evil, that is a fantasy. True evil, the evil that exists in the world, is the kind that does not know itself. It is the kind that does what it does for good reasons. Because it thinks the evil it does will bring about good, for itself and for others. Such are the Children, or so I have always thought.”

  “And the Empress?” asked Raven, his heart heavy and sad as it always was when he thought of his Mother, the woman who had tried to kill him, and the one who even now he couldn’t help but love, whose approval he still yearned for. He felt sick inside, knowing that, but he knew it was true.

  “I don’t know,” Autmaran sighed, shaking his head, the vision he had been seeing so clearly suddenly dispersed by the immensity of the thought presented before him. “A woman like that – an immortal – can she be human? Is there any humanity left after a thousand years?”

  Raven opened his mouth to speak, but found that words stuck in his throat. He was unsure both of himself and Autmaran; he thought of what his Mother had done, the fact she had tried to kill him, one of her Children.

  Why me? Raven thought once more, the words jagged and ripping, like a fragment of broken glass. Why wasn’t I good enough for her?

  The wind howled around them like a tortured soul, grasping and pulling at the companions.

  Raven said nothing, looking away from the dark-skinned man. He didn’t even know if he believed the Empire could be saved anymore. He had dreamed that maybe there would be more like himself, like Leah and Davydd, those who had grown up in the darkness of the Empress’ shadow, but who, once given the right chance, could change and realize there was a better way. He had hoped, before the death of Goldwyn, that there would be a way to keep him from killing any more of his siblings, a way to avoid killing anymore of anyone.

  But did he believe that now? Now, after all he’d seen? Af
ter what he knew of both the Kindred and the Empire?

  A horn began to blow, far to the west, on the side of the plain that blended with the horizon and eventually led to the distant city of Tyne.

  “Is that them?” Tym asked.

  “If everything went to plan, then yes,” Autmaran replied, quickly, all signs of their previous conversation gone. “Everyone get ready –”

  A speck of movement appeared on the horizon, and Raven immediately reached through the Talisman, sending his mind questing over the land in front of them … only to stop short.

  “Shadow-cursed piece of – Leah!”

  She looked at him, saw the request in his eyes and immediately came to him. He unsheathed Aemon’s Blade and held the hilt out for her. She pulled off her gauntlet, grabbed the Aspect of Sight, and touched the Valerium sword.

  Raven’s vision soared further than before, crossing miles and miles of distance in a rolling wave, until it broke against a series of harsh lights that felt hard and panicked. There were … there were thousands of them.

  Rikard? Had Davydd and Lorna failed and been beaten to the Plains by the Imperial Army?

  But wait … that didn’t feel like an army.

  “What in the world ...?”

  “What is it?” Leah asked, her eyes glowing with blue fire, able to hold onto the Aspect for longer than a few seconds with Raven’s help. Before he could answer, she stiffened, and her eyes rolled back in her head. Blue light streamed from the markings that swirled beneath her hair and down her spine, tracing her nerve-endings. She staggered, and Raven caught her.

  “What happened?” rumbled Tomaz.

  “I don’t know,” Raven said, “she must have seen something; she was holding the Aspect for longer than she’s ever managed to before.”

  “Then what did she see?”

  “I don’t know,” Raven replied curtly. “All I saw was that there are thousands of them out there; we need to form up and –”

  He cut off as the lives came closer, crossing the edge of the field on the far distant side of the Plain, just visible now. He reached out again, going as far as he could without Leah’s aid, pushing as hard as he could to get just one touch, one glimpse of that figure that was out in front of them.

  He touched the figure with his mind, expecting Rikard and wanting to confirm it, just barely scraping the surface of his life … but what he felt was completely different from what he’d expected.

  That’s not Rikard … it feels like Lorna.

  “What is it?” Tomaz rumbled. “What do you feel?”

  “It’s not the Empire,” Tym said before Raven could speak, looking out over the battlefield as the sides of his neck glowed a bright moss green. “It can’t be. That’s not an Imperial formation; they’re not marching, they’re running!”

  “He’s right,” Autmaran said, squinting through a scope he had brought along with him. “You’ve got fantastic eyes, boy; try not to lose them, all right?”

  “It’s them,” Leah said suddenly, breaking out of her trance and Raven’s arms, coming to her feet. She shook her head as the blue light faded away, and focused on them. “It’s Davydd and Lorna and half the shadow-cursed city of Tyne.”

  “What?”

  “Davydd and –?”

  “But those are Imperial horns,” Autmaran said. “Who’s blowing them?”

  “Rikard is behind them,” Leah said quickly. “They stalled the army and got in front – I don’t know how, I didn’t see it, but somehow they stalled the whole damn army, and brought half the city along with them.”

  “The plan was for them to bring us intelligence, not provoke Rikard!”

  “He was always going to be here anyway,” Raven said sharply; they had no time for should-have-beens. “That figure in front is Lorna – that means she’s leading the charge and she’s running from Rikard. We need to get those Commons behind our lines and meet Rikard in the field.”

  “We were anticipating the attack from Lucien –”

  “We can’t leave them to die!” Raven snapped.

  “He’s right,” Autmaran said, taking over smoothly. “ We always knew things would change when we got here – we’ll adapt. Who is out in front – is it Lorna only?”

  “Yes.”

  “But Davydd – ” Leah began.

  “He must be somewhere behind; I don’t feel him at all.”

  “That can’t be right.”

  “He can’t be dead,” Tomaz rumbled, though his inflection showed that the statement was half a question.

  “He’s not there,” Raven said, straining once more and just barely touching that first life again. “All I can feel is Lorna – he should be standing out as bright as she, but all I can feel is the Wolf Talisman. The Fox – ”

  A glimmer of gold shot across his eyes and the Raven Talisman grew hot across his back. Rocked, Raven took a step back as his vision swam.

  “Whoa!”

  “Catch him – ”

  “I’m fine,” he said. “Davydd’s there, but he’s … he’s so weak he’s barely alive.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “I have no way of knowing,” Raven said, “but I’ll bet Aemon’s Blade against a hairpin he ignored my warning and sought out Rikard when they were in Tyne.”

  “You think the Lion defeated him?”

  “If they fought,” Raven said grimly, “I know he did.”

  “Tym, get the officers!” Autmaran called. Tym disappeared down the hill and reappeared within seconds, the under-officers running behind him from where they’d been waiting for further commands. Jaillin was there, as well as Stannit, Polim and Palum, and a number of others with bright patches of color sewn to their shoulders to show they were runners for particularly captains.

  “Two squads of Scouts to catch the stragglers,” the Commander rattled off quickly, “with extra horses for any of the wounded. Yes, Jallin, I know we don’t have enough as it is – find them. Three squads of heavy infantry to absorb the army on the west side of the field and hold off any attackers, one group of archers with them along the ridgeline; Polim and Palum, a full troop of Rangers to engage however is needed. The rest: turn to face the west side of the Plains, and hold formation, filling in the holes as best we can. Go – now.”

  Raven only waited for them to be out of earshot before he spoke:

  “We’re already down enough Kindred without sparing more,” he reminded Autmaran, doing his best to keep the bite of anger out of his tone. “What are we doing splitting our forces? We need to defend against two fronts as it is – we don’t know what’s waiting behind the walls of Lucien.”

  “We have the numbers,” the Commander said, looking over the field quickly, his eyes flying back and forth so fast Raven thought for instant he was having a mental break. “It will be close. Very, very close. And we’ll need to be on the Plains – there’s no way to have them fully engaged without drawing them all to us.”

  “Autmaran,” Raven started, but Leah cut him off.

  “You mean to spread them?” she asked.

  “In a fan there,” he pointed, “and there.”

  “Where will you commit the archers?”

  “There are ridges around the – ”

  “Perfect,” she said, her eyes flaring blue for longer than normal – has she finally gotten the hang of it? – before returning to green, “they’ll do damage .”

  “Will it truly pull them all the way in toward us?” Raven asked, suddenly catching on to what they were saying. The plan laid out before them looked … it looked perfect.

  Nothing is perfect with Rikard thrown in the mix.

  “Yes,” Autmaran and Leah said together, before they both looked to him. Autmaran nodded to her, and she spoke:

  “You will need to detain your brother,” she said softly.

  Raven felt a thrill run down his spine, right between the wing-like markings of his Talisman.

  “Sure we can’t just fight them here?” Tomaz rumbled. He didn�
�t look afraid – Raven wasn’t sure any show of arms could ever scare the big man.

  “They’re not foolish enough to approach us here,” Autmaran said. “With the ridgeline, we have the perfect defensible position. They will surround us if we don’t come out to fight them on the field, and then crush us in a vice if they can.

  “And we’d lose the people running toward us now,” Leah said.

  “Fine,” Raven said, thinking of the clock ticking in his own head. “We meet them in the field – but we meet them on our terms.”

  “It’s already in motion,” Tomaz rumbled, mounting the huge horse Gydion. “My place is on the field. And so is yours, Raven, Leah.”

  The runners Autmaran had dispatched were already down the hill, and the Scouts they’d dispatched to catch the refugees were already speeding across the field.

  “My place is here,” said the Commander. “I’ll send runners or Tym as the battle changes – but I need to be able to see it from here, at least for now.”

  “Stay alive,” Raven told him emphatically. “I need to give you the Lion Talisman when this is done.”

  “Take care,” he replied, and then turned to the others. “All of you.”

  Tomaz grunted his agreement and heeled Gydion’s sides, throwing him down the hillside as he roared his battle cry. The Kindred soldiers took it up, the wordless ululation echoing back at them from the rocky lower passes of the Elmist Mountains. Leah grasped Raven’s hand, and caught his eye; everything they had gone through passed between them in that look, making him ache for her even on the cusp of battle. And then she left, jumping astride her pale gelding, Samsen, and following Tomaz with a cry of her own that was echoed by many of the women, particularly of the Commons. Tym crossed to him who was once again scanning the field; his sapphire eyes scanned Raven and knew immediately what he was thinking.

  “You can win,” the boy said. “You must believe it as best you can.”

  Raven swallowed nervously. Fear rose up in him again as the clock in his head ticked down its final hours. The clouds above them blocked the sun, but some illumination broke through the cover along the horizon, the light finding a way to watch the unfolding struggle. The army below was moving, following Autmaran’s instructions, and Raven could feel Lorna’s life, strong and vibrant, coming closer now, and the fainter, weaker life of Davydd in her wake. They were halfway across the short side of the field; their horses must have been ready to fall out from under them, but still they pressed on as the force Autmaran had sent met them and passed beyond, surrounding the Commons and fending off the light cavalry division of Tyne that was harrying them.