Arrival

by Charlotte McConaghy

  “Odin. I had not thought to see you again. Our plans were made, were they not?” he said pointedly. He had long ago stopped feeling afraid of the god. He had his own measure of power, and it was not small.

  “There have been new revelations and I have need to speak with you.” The voice that came from the darkness was flat and dangerous.

  “What is it?”

  Odin stepped out of the shadows now and Leostrial caught his breath in awe. The war god was a fearsome sight—his hair alight with flames and his eyes dark pools of liquid blackness. He was taller than a man, and his body was sculpted as a warrior’s. He held a long whip of fire in his hand, but at that moment it hung limply at his side.

  “Have you lost your manners, Leostrial?” he asked quietly. His black eyes peered intently, threateningly.

  “Forgive me, Odin. I was hasty.”

  “You underestimate us, Leostrial.”

  Leostrial took a quick breath. “Have you gone back to them then?” he asked.

  Odin was tiring of the conversation. He sighed and shook his head. Leostrial waited.

  “I had thought you were a lot sharper,” Odin said now, a slight curve to the corner of his mouth. Humour was in his eyes, and flickers of fire, and Leostrial grew angry.

  “That is your news?” he demanded.

  “You have a traitor in your castle,” the god said, the amusement still on his face. Leostrial stilled, and the first thought that came to his mind was Satine.

  “Not her,” Odin said quietly with considerable disdain, and Leostrial visibly relaxed. “Still, you shouldn’t trust her so easily. She is but a woman.”

  Leostrial said nothing. He had heard such words from the god many times before.

  Odin curled his lip in disgust, apparently having gleaned something from Leostrial’s silence. “Love is nothing! Nothing!” He almost spat this last and Leostrial wondered at the severity of his reaction. He was too bitter.

  “I said nothing about love.”

  “You did not have to. She clouds your mind.”

  “Tell me who the traitor is.”

  “I wonder, should I?” Odin asked thoughtfully.

  “We are on the same side!” Leostrial said without thinking. The war god’s face closed over and his eyes became cold.

  “An angel from Elendial descended into your castle some time ago, and has been making his way around unseen.”

  “How?”

  “Angels are more powerful than you might think,” he said with an impatient gesture. “Not as powerful as you or I, but they can easily make themselves invisible to human eyes. He has been collecting information.”

  “Why did you not tell me sooner?”

  “Because if you had found him straight away, they would have known something was amiss. You must destroy him.”

  “Yes. Keep the plans the same?” Leostrial asked.

  “Yes. But make sure you find him before he does any real damage, or you will pay for it with your life.”

  And with that he disappeared into the darkness.

  ***

  Satine showed Altor his room and helped him unpack his belongings. Then she took him for a walk through the palace, and showed him all her favourite places from her own childhood.

  “There’s a cupboard under the stairs here where you can hide,” she said with a grin, opening the door. “Climb in there and look for the hole in the wall.”

  Altor climbed excitedly into the cupboard and searched around for what his mother had told him.

  “I can see into the armoury!” he gasped delightedly.

  Satine laughed. “And if you’re quiet, no one will know you’re there.”

  When they came to the armoury his eyes lit up at the sight of all the weapons.

  “I will have the army captain give you lessons in swordplay,” she said, “unless of course you would prefer that I taught you myself?”

  “You can fight?” he asked and Satine nodded. “That seems fitting then,” he murmured. “Can I have my own armour?”

  “I think it is best if we wait until you’re a little older, you’ll just grow out of it.”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Altor ... do you think you could be happy here?” she asked after a moment. “With me?”

  He looked at her. “More so than anywhere else,” he replied, which was not really the answer she had hoped for.

  Leostrial suddenly burst into the room. “There is a spy among us.”

  “What?” Satine asked.

  Altor had stiffened.

  “An angel. He’s in this castle, invisible to the human eye.”

  “How do you know he is here?” she asked.

  “Odin told me,” he replied quickly. “I’ll have to make the angel think it was his own fault he was found so Odin’s position isn’t compromised. That’s if I can catch him.”

  Satine shivered as she thought of the war god. Leostrial had told her many times about Odin’s distrust of her and how he wanted her banished from the castle. She hated that Leostrial had anything to do with the god.

  Leostrial turned on his heel and left the room. Satine stared at the door for a moment.

  The Strangers had foreseen it. She led Altor quickly after Leostrial. They found him on the battlements giving orders to his archers. Satine glimpsed a figure disappearing into the clouds above before it was all over.

  “We hit him three times, he will not return to them alive,” Leostrial said turning to her. “It’s a very long way.”

  Satine blinked as she realised something. “Leostrial, I was wrong. The gods do not yet know of your attack. When I was in Uns Lapodis, the Strangers told us of a dream which described an angel flying away from pursuers, shot thrice in the back. He does manage to make it to the star and he tells the gods that someone is coming. They will not know yet, but when that angel reaches them ... It is my understanding that at this moment Accolon is trying to contact the gods, so soon they will know you are planning to attack them.”

  Leostrial said nothing.

  “What do you plan to do?” Satine asked carefully.

  Leostrial shot her a look and said, “I shall attack the star of Elendial in a matter of weeks.”

  “How?” she asked, perplexed.

  The force of the military archangels was waiting there for anyone stupid enough to invade. And how to get there with an entire army?

  He didn’t say anything. She followed his gaze out over the battlements and looked at the land before them. Wide expanses of rough dirt plains, and in the very far distance the beginning of the marshes that divided the capital city from the ocean. Years ago this whole country had been an enormous volcano. Now the only evidence of that were a few pits of molten lava.

  “But how, Leostrial?” she pressed. “And why in a few weeks? Why not now, before the gods can act?”

  Eventually he gave her a sideways look and murmured, “In a few weeks time Accolon will be here with his army.”

  “Exactly!” Satine sighed exasperatedly.

  He nodded. “Exactly.”

  She stared at him. “What are you talking about? Why do you want to wait for them to get here?”

  He gave her a measured look. Satine waited for an explanation. And then something in her brain clicked.

  She gasped, her eyes widening. “You want them to come here! It’s been your plan all along!”

  It might have been a smile at the corners of his lips, or it might have been a trick of the fading light. He turned back to the battlements. “How exactly did you think I was going to attack Elendial? They come, and the gods will follow. Accolon will be walking the gods straight into my lap.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The gods will never allow humans to fight alone for them. They are far too proud. And in joining the battle, I will have complete access to them.”

  “You couldn’t get to them, so you had to lure them to you,” she said, everything falling into place. They had all walked right into his trap. Satine looked
at him and shivered at the idea that he had used them all as puppets.

  “It would do for you to curb your curiosity,” he warned. “You will not be joining me in any case, so there is no need for you to worry yourself with it.”

  Satine turned to her son. “Altor, go and explore the armoury. I will come and find you in a few moments.” The boy nodded and did as he was told.

  “A battle is no place for a woman,” he said firmly.

  “I can fight better than most of your army!” Satine raged then stopped and took a deep breath, calming herself. “By leaving me behind, you leave one of your best fighters. You cannot afford to do that!”

  Leostrial turned to face Satine. “You could die! In fact you would most likely die, and I don’t want that to happen.” Leostrial changed his tone, “Besides, it would seem strange if you came to war with me. My men already think there is something between us.”

  “So let them guess!” she said forcefully.

  “I have a wife, Satine.”

  “I know, Leostrial,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Do not forget that she is my own mother.”

  “I’m sorry. I underestimated how difficult this must be for you,” he said, taking her hands in his own. She was surprised at the sudden gentleness. “She is my wife only on paper,” he said. “Nothing has passed between us these years except a few harsh words.”

  Satine closed her eyes for a moment. Her mother hated Leostrial, hated being married to him. She knew they never spoke and that it wasn’t a real marriage. But if Liessen should ever learn the truth of how her daughter felt...

  “Why are you fighting Elendial, Leostrial?” she asked him quietly, pleadingly.

  His face softened. “I’m sorry I have not spoken to you of this before, Satine. You deserve to know the answer to that. No doubt the people across the sea believe that I want nothing more than to destroy the entire world and everything in it. Did they ever actually question what motivation anyone would have to do that? I only want to make this world better. I have a wish that, as leader of Paragor, I could do that. I only want this land to prosper and grow, Satine. You must believe me in this.”

  Leostrial thought for a moment and then tried to explain more. “Not long ago, Odin came to me with tidings. He said that the gods thought me a threat, and that they were planning to destroy me because I sought too much control over Paragor. They fear their own power being diminished by mine. He alone knew that I planned to harm no one and offered to help me.” He shrugged and a dark look came over his eyes. “If they seek a fight, they will receive one. I shall do whatever it takes.” He paused for a moment, and something different crossed his face. His next words were unsteady, uncertain.

  “No one understands me. Even my own people, my own family, everyone closest to me believes that all I want to do is destroy. But they don’t understand that the gods are ... cold, and unloving. We need rulers who will help us to shape this world we live in as a place where people can be happy.”

  “But why not save the other countries as well?”

  “It is my hope that I will be able to, once this is over. Eventually they will know I am not their enemy.”

  “But until then you are happy to fight them in a war?” Satine whispered.

  “Force is necessary sometimes, Satine. I will not shy away from that. Without this battle, I would have no access to the gods. Sometimes, if you want something great, you have to be ruthless to attain it. This will all be for the best eventually. Soon this country will be more beautiful than anything you have ever imagined. I will not rest until it is so.”

  So there it was. The first time he had ever spoken to her about his dreams and plans.

  And he wanted what everyone else did.

  Where exactly was the line, thought Satine. The line between strength and fanaticism? When did people start calling you crazy instead of determined? Did the end ever truly justify the means?

  Leostrial frowned and looked down at their hands, hers still loosely held in his. “There is something that I should do, Satine, and I should have done it a long time ago. I took you for granted. I’m sorry.”

  This was far too much. She wasn’t ready for it. They had never even tried to cross this ground before—there was too much pain in it. She knew what was coming and panic gripped at her.

  “Satine, I need to ask you for forgiveness.”

  She shook her head, unable to speak.

  “I killed your father, Satine,” he said quietly, and she closed her eyes, trying not to listen. “I killed him, and you knew this, and yet ... still you let me into your life here. I have regretted his death every single day that I’ve known you. And you cannot possibly fathom how sorry I am. Truly. I ask that somehow, if it’s at all possible, you can forgive me this, in the hope that one day I might be able to fill your life with as much joy as he did.”

  Satine let out a whimper. Why was he doing this to her? Why now? It all came back to this. He had killed her father, and so stuck a knife in her own heart, and the only way she could deal with that was to think that he didn’t care, and to try and kindle the anger the knife created. It was so much easier to deal with anger and hatred than anything else. But ... now he was saying such things, and everything she had based her life on was being crushed.

  “You see, Satine, you are my soul, my heart’s destination. Each heart has its ruler, and you are mine. I never meant to hurt you—it is my life’s one true regret that I did. I love you. I always have.”

  And because it was the first time he had ever said such things—had ever even come close to saying such things—Satine lent down and rested her head on his shoulder and she cried. He wrapped his arms around her, and held her, and stroked her hair. And she wept for she finally realised that she loved him too, and that was a grief deeper than any.

  Part 3

  The Battle

  Screams rent the air as Liessen ran through the palace. There were bodies everywhere. Everywhere. And the blood—her dress was red with it. She didn’t know if it was hers or another’s.

  She rounded the corner and ran her sword through the belly of a man.

  Having fought these things all day, she knew that it would not be enough to kill him. Leaving the blade where it was in his stomach, she dived under the swing of his sword and snatched another blade from a body next to her. She raised it above her head in time to block his sword. Leaping from the ground, she dealt the man a blow to stun him so that she could slice off his head.

  It was the only way they could be killed, these things that had come from across the sea, come to tear apart their city with inhuman strength.

  Pulling her own sword free of his stomach, leaving the second bloody sword on the ground, she ran forward and into the tower. The steps were many and steep, and on them she encountered more of the creatures.

  Finally, in the highest room of the west wing tower of the palace of Lapis Matyr, she found two of the three people she so desperately needed to find.

  Altor, her husband, was lying with his head in Accolon’s lap, and the boy cried steadily. Accolon had been sent to Burmia five years ago for training, and as a result, Altor had become like a father to him.

  It took her a moment to realise that there were three spear shafts in her husband’s chest. A cry was torn from her throat as she ran to his side. She put her hands around one of the spears and made to pull it out. Altor’s eyes flew open.

  “Leave it,” he whispered, barely audible. Blood spilt from his mouth.

  “Altor,” she cried, “we can save you.”

  But, “No. Leave it.”

  “Don’t do this,” she pleaded. Her own tears were on his face now, mingled with those of the boy’s.

  “Where is Satine?” Altor asked hoarsely, and more blood came. Accolon’s head snapped up at the question.

  “I don’t know,” Liessen sobbed, “I don’t know where she is.”

  “Hold a moment, Accolon. Before you look for her I would speak with you.” The king paused to sp
it out the blood that seemed to be drowning him.

  So much blood. It was everywhere. Liessen was sitting in an ocean of it.

  “I want you both to listen to me,” Altor went on quietly but firmly. “I know you both love Satine as much as I do, and you care about her safety. The three of us, right here, right now, are going to make a vow. A pact that we can never break, not until death takes us.” He said it as though he were not already dying. “You must watch over her. As long as you live. Will you take this vow?”

  “You don’t even have to ask,” Accolon said through his tears and Liessen nodded in agreement.

  Altor’s body slumped slightly, but he opened his eyes again.

  “Take your knife, Accolon,” he ordered and the boy did not hesitate. “Make a slit in your forearm so that you never forget. Never.”

  “You have been more of a father than my own has been to me, Altor, and I will do this because I love you and your daughter.” The words were honourable, but choked with tears.

  He was still only young.

  “Go and find her now, Accolon,” Altor ordered.

  The boy slid out from under Altor and ran from the room.

  Liessen picked up the discarded knife and made to cut her own arm.

  “Oh no—Liessen I did not mean for you to—” Altor started.

  “I want to, Altor,” she replied. “So that I will have something to remind Accolon of his promise.” And she cut her arm.

  She slid over, closer to him. “Soon it will match this one,” she said with a sad smile, gesturing to the scar on her cheek. A present from the El~ariah all those years ago when she had fled to him.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered, and then he died, quietly and without fuss. Liessen did not scream or cry but kept her anguish inside her. Lying there, over the body of her dead husband, she made her own vow. She would not let her husband’s death go unavenged.

  Liessen was a warrior. It was in her blood, as it was in her husband’s and her young daughter’s.

  She had once been princess of the Amazonian warriors who lived in the jungles of Frescana, born to fight, with pride in their strength. She did not lose her pride when she left her throne and lost her place in the race of warriors, so the woman she became when her husband died was a pretence. Her life from that point on, except for loving her daughter, was an act. She became demure and obedient. And all because of an oath she had given on the cold stone flaggings of the highest room in the castle, next to the body of the one man she had ever truly loved.