“I’m afraid it gets worse,” Talroy said, glancing away. “The Crell assassins killed dozens of guards during the attack. Highlord Dracian was with them.”
“Anvira have mercy,” Selvhara gasped. She clamped her hands over her mouth and sank to her knees. “Tevek…”
Talroy swallowed heavily, and Jason buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t think of anything to say, and neither could anyone else. By the time he finally glanced back up, Sel had buried herself in Tam’s arms. Jason couldn’t even bring himself to look at her; the storm of rage and sorrow pouring off her was nearly overwhelming. He turned to Elade instead, and he belatedly realized that he couldn’t sense anything from her at all. No anger, no sadness…it was like he was staring at a wall.
“Have you heard any reports from Brackengarde or Aman-Dapor?” she asked into the silence.
“Nothing,” Talroy said. “Lord Alric says we have to assume they’ve both fallen.”
“Which means they could march on Celenest before the first snowfall. Without priests, the Alliance army doesn’t stand a chance.”
The silence lingered once more, and Jason felt sick to his stomach. His friends might have survived Garos, but Solaria would soon be burning around them. The greatest hero of his childhood was dead, and the oldest Ascendant King in Torsia had just joined him.
Eventually Talroy stirred. “Highlord Alric is planning to return Tevek’s body to the Citadel for an honored burial.”
“Of course he is,” Elade whispered. Jason still couldn’t feel anything from her, but he didn’t need to—her glowing blue eyes had gone as cold as an Asgardian winter. “Now that Tevek’s dead, he’s useful again.”
Tam frowned. “Where else would they take him?”
“Don’t you understand? Alric can use this funeral to gain political favor. He can generate sympathy for himself and for the Dawn, and in the process he’ll sweep the current scandal under the rug. In a few weeks, no one will even remember how the Conclave treated Tevek. They’ll just remember that their Highlord was slain, and they will rally around their new one as they thirst for vengeance.”
“But…Lord Dracian does belong at the Citadel,” Talroy said. “At least he can be buried along with the other—”
“No!” Elade nearly screamed. Her mental walls finally crumbled, and her rage flooded over Jason so hard and so fast he thought he might lose consciousness. “They betrayed him. They cast him out. He’s better than they are.”
Selvhara pulled herself from Tam’s arms, tears still streaking down her face. “Yes, but he still belongs with his fallen brothers and sisters.”
For an instant, Jason thought Elade might actually argue the point. But then her mental walls locked back into place, and her thoughts became a mystery to him once more.
“Why?” she asked quietly.
“Because he was a Knight of the Last Dawn,” Selvhara said. “The Conclave might have been wrong to reject him, but that doesn’t change what Tevek was or how he should be remembered.”
“What about Alric?”
“So what about Alric? He just gets away with this?”
“This isn’t about Alric or his politics. This is about Tevek and what he would want—what he deserves. Regardless of what happened, I think you know that’s where he would want to be.”
The vaeyn’s lip twisted, and she slowly rose to her feet. “He lost everything because of me,” she said, her voice wavering like it might crack at any second. “He came back to Celenest for me. Now he’s dead because of me.”
Selvhara shook her head. “This isn’t your fault. Tevek made a choice—a choice he would make again, given the chance. He was proud of you. He believed in the power of redemption, and you’ve proven him right.”
Elade pivoted away and crossed her arms. “He’ll be remembered for bringing an exile into the Dawn—that’s what will stand out to the Conclave.”
“Forget the Conclave. Tevek was a hero across Calhara and Torsia. Nothing they ever do can change that.”
Elade closed her eyes. The mournful silence hung between them all, and Jason reached out and joined hands with Selvhara. He could still feel the pain inside her, but as usual she had found a way to bury her despair beneath a mountain of resolve. She would continue to grieve for a long time, but he doubted anyone here would ever see it on her face again.
“I need to be there when they bury him,” Elade said softly after a moment. “I don’t care what Alric says.”
Tam sighed. “You saw what that idiot was willing to do here today. He pulled his men from the front line just because you were here. You can’t just walk right up to him in Celenest.”
“I have to confront him at some point, and I refuse to spend this entire war trying to avoid him.”
“Then we will help you,” Selvhara promised. “We’ll all ride to Celenest together and confront Alric as a group. If he won’t take you back in, then you should come with us.”
Elade raised an eyebrow. “To what end?”
“That’s a good question,” Tam said. “The Crell will be back here eventually, and you know they’ll be pushing hard in the south.”
“It’s hard to predict what the Sovereigns will do next,” Talroy said distantly. “The Galvian Resistance launched an attack on the Lyebel garrison today, and when they arrived the Crell soldiers were already killing each other.”
“What?” Jason asked. “That makes no sense.”
“I know, but it’s the truth. Squads of imperial soldiers led by Breakers slaughtered the city watchmen. They might have killed the rebels, too—we lost contact with our knights in Lyebel hours ago.”
“When it rains…” Tam muttered. “What the hell is going on here, Jace? What do we do?”
All of them were looking at him, even the two knights. Jason was perfectly accustomed to calling the shots as they moved from dig site to dig site, but this was different. This time it wasn’t about following him to a new stash; it was just about following him. Only a few days ago he’d been surprised when they came with him to Garos, and now this. They all had their own reasons for joining up with his little troupe, but the battle between Crell and Solaria—or Crell and Galvia—had never really been their war. Not like it was to him and his family.
But perhaps things were different now. They had all seen these Crell Breakers in action, and they clearly understood that the Sovereigns wouldn’t stop coming until all of Torsia was forced to live under their boot.
“We go back to Celenest,” Jason said. “We put Tevek to rest, and then we try and track down my father. We still don’t know what he’s up to, but I have a feeling he knows a lot more about what’s going on than we do.”
“I suppose anything is better than staying here,” Tam murmured.
Jason glanced between them, and he could see the resolve in each of their faces. Perhaps this war was personal for all of them now. Perhaps it always had been.
“Then we’ll set out in the morning,” he told them. “For now, there are still a lot of hurt people out there who could use our help.”
***
Onar Tenel stared blankly at the battle projections long after his input was necessary or relevant. The Crell Imperium had won two great victories today despite some minor setbacks. Garos remained standing, but in the grand scheme of the war, one failed siege would likely end up as little more than a historical footnote. Scattered and demoralized, the Solarians would have a hard time recovering before it was too late.
Still, Tenel couldn’t bring himself to completely dismiss this defeat. For him, Garos was personal. The thought of losing to the heir of Ethan Moore made his stomach turn, and the bitter taste in his mouth called to mind all the horrors of Geriskhad and the death of Tenel’s only son…
Moore’s day will come, Admiral,” Damir whispered from behind him. She had hardly said a word over the last hour despite the continued skirmishes at Brackengarde and Aman-Dapor. She had also been smiling thinly the entire time…and each time he turned around a c
old chill shuddered down his spine.
“I hope so,” Tenel said. “I know it’s still early, but if you wish me to plan the next stage of the invasion, I will need more information on whatever reinforcements we have available, especially in the north. That is, unless High Sovereign Thelonius is planning on directing the rest of this war himself.”
“You will get whatever reinforcements you need,” she assured him. “But first I want to show you something.”
The crystalline mirrors shimmered from translucent to opaque as she stood from her throne and stepped over towards the chamber’s double doors. Tenel paused awkwardly for a second, confused, but then quickly fell in step with her. Her gait was surprisingly brisk for a woman of her modest stature, and she led him down several corridors he swore he had never seen before. But given that the complex was essentially a giant labyrinth, it was difficult to be certain.
Eventually they spiraled down a long staircase and approached another pair of double doors nearly identical to those protecting her chamber. Damir casually flicked her chin, and after a brief delay the invisible locking mechanisms began clicking open. Tenel wasn’t sure what to expect on the other side. Another chamber filled with crystalline mirrors? A special storage facility stocked with powerful Aether-infused weapons? A giant repository filled with all the Zarul’s darkest secrets?
“I wasn’t able to provide you with additional reinforcements during the invasion because our soldiers were needed elsewhere,” Damir said. “Thankfully, after today that will no longer be the case.”
The doors finally opened…and Tenel’s jaw dropped open.
Inside the chamber were several dozen heavily-armored men and women. He recognized their faces from his trips to the Vortex Chamber—they were all Breakers, and they had obviously been in battle recently.
But their presence was far less surprising than the other men in the room. There were four of them in total, each gagged and shackled at the wrists as they hung upside-down from the ceiling. Upon closer inspection, Tenel realized they had also been fitted with several of the spiked crystalline bracelets the Zarul employed to neutralize enemy channelers. He didn’t recognize any of these individuals, but they clearly weren’t warriors. They were overly pale and gaunt, and their clothing was clearly upper-class despite the numerous tears and splotches of blood.
“I don’t understand,” Tenel whispered. “Who are these people?”
“Old friends whose time had finally come,” Damir told him. “Their removal heralds the dawn of the new age, Admiral—an age where the Imperium will no longer be burdened by politics or petty power-brokering between fools.”
Tenel frowned as his eyes darted between the hanging men. Were they high-ranking members of the old nobility, then? He was hardly an expert on the inner workings of court politics, but he still found it strange that he didn’t recognize any of them. What could they possibly—?
The color abruptly drained from his face. Four well-dressed men, their faces pale and their bodies gaunt as if they rarely ate or stepped outside…
The truth stabbed him like a shiv through the gut. All his darkest suspicions about the Zarul, all the crazy, impossible scenarios he’d concocted in his long days alone…suddenly they all clicked together in his mind like the pieces of an enormous puzzle.
“When did you kill High Sovereign Thelonius?” Tenel asked, his voice a brittle whisper.
“Nearly two years ago,” Damir said. “But then, I’m sure you’ve already figured that out by now.”
Tenel tried to swallow but his throat had gone dry. Two years ago, the Ishthare Rebellion had shaken the very core of the Imperium, and many believed the people’s confidence in their leaders had been irreparably damaged. Tenel had played a vital role in the conflict; his forces had defeated the insurrectionist armada at Veinshel Harbor. Afterwards, the High Sovereign had declared victory over the upstart Sovereign from Tracordia named Variska Ishthare. He claimed that she’d been defeated, and that he had taken her Ascendant power as his own. But instead…
“Was there ever a real Zarul Sovereign?” Tenel asked. “Or did you kill her too?”
Alexandra Damir—or rather, Variska Ishthare—turned and smiled at him. “Of course, though I replaced Damir long before the rebellion began. She was the first piece in the puzzle, as it were, and clearly the most important.”
“You killed her and Thelonius, but the other Sovereigns had no idea. That was why you weren’t surprised when the Solarian girl managed to hold on to some of Areekan’s priests—you had done exactly the same thing with both Damir and Thelonius before. You took control of their Bound, and no one in the Imperium was the wiser…not even the Bound themselves, I’d wager.”
“They felt a hiccup in their powers, of course, but nothing that couldn’t easily be dismissed by their caring and benevolent Sovereign.”
Tenel forced himself to breathe as he glanced back up to the four men hanging in the room. “And now you’ve captured the four remaining Sovereigns…and you’re going to kill them, too.”
Ishthare took a step forward, a predatory glint in her eye. “Yes.”
The admiral struggled not to be sick. While he had been commanding their invasion forces, Ishthare had dispatched thousands of her troops and their Breaker commanders against each of the other Sovereigns. Tenel thought back to his friend Horsch and his stories of how paranoid High Command had become over the past few months…and he realized how right they’d been. Sovereign Ishthare and her Green Coats had been in command of the Imperium for two years and no one had even known it…
“The question you need to be asking, Admiral, is where your allegiance lies,” Ishthare said. “I needed your skills to plan and execute the attack on the Alliance, and so this deception was an unfortunate necessity. I also needed to test your loyalties, and in that regard I’m afraid you have given us all mixed results. You are loyal to your country—that I do not doubt. But how loyal are you to its leaders?”
Tenel’s lip quivered. “I am loyal to the Imperium and its people. That has never changed.”
“But will you be loyal to me?” Ishthare asked. “Can I trust you to lead my forces into battle and crush the Alliance?”
Tenel knew he was trapped. He had no outs, no means of escaping this web. Ishthare could see through him as clearly as a piece of glass. His life—and certainly that of his family—hung in the balance before her judgment.
“I believe in the Imperium,” he told her. “I believe in the rule of law and the stability of a centralized government. I believe it is our destiny to bring that freedom to the world, because no one can truly be free until they are secure.” He paused. “I don’t know what you believe.”
Ishthare smiled again. “I believe our great nation has grown tired and weak. Over the last few decades we have become complacent. Our message of strength and unity has been diluted by petty squabbles amongst our leaders. We have allowed rebellions to fester inside our own border. We have tolerated dissent amongst those we have conquered. We allow these threats to our security to endure, and because of that our people have lost their way.”
She turned and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I believe it is time for us to defeat our enemies, both at home and abroad, and bring the people of Torsia the peace and safety they deserve.”
Tenel glanced up to the hanging men. “And what about them?”
“They cannot see past themselves. They cannot understand the serpent that has been slithering its way through this empire for so long. I tried to show them once, but when they refused to listen to my pleas, I knew I would have to be more…direct.”
“What of High Command?” What of the other officers?”
“Those who have proven their usefulness will have a place at my side,” Ishthare said matter-of-factly. “Those who do not will be purged along with the rest of the corruption infecting the Imperium.”
“I see,” Tenel murmured.
“As I said, Admiral, we stand at the dawn of a new age…and the t
ime has come for you to make a decision. We are burdened with glorious purpose, you and I. We have been called to rebuild Torsia—to rebuild Obsidian. The only question is whether or not we will answer.”
“And what happens if I refuse?”
“Then I will allow you to return home with your family,” Ishthare said. “I offer you a true choice, Admiral. If you wish to walk away, I will respect your decision. If not…then we can ensure the future and security of our Imperium together. So will you serve me, Onar Tenel?
Tenel thoughts flicked back to his home village, to the townsfolk he barely knew and the family he had almost forgotten. He wasn’t a farmer anymore, and he certainly wasn’t a husband. He was a soldier, through and through…and he would be lying to himself by pretending to be anything else.
He also couldn’t deny how much he still yearned for vengeance. Moore and his Elf Witch were still out there somewhere, and here Tenel could make sure they were punished for their crimes. Sitting at home on his farm he would wonder about their fate, and he would always regret not taking the opportunity to grant his son a final peace.
“Yes,” he said, standing stiffly and clasping his hands behind his back. “Yes, I will.”
“I never doubted it,” Ishthare told him. She nodded to the door behind him and a Coat stepped up behind him. “Escort the Admiral back to his chambers. See to it that he’s provided with everything he needs.”
“Of course, Mistress.”
“Oh, and I almost forgot, Admiral. Is there anyone in High Command you trust? Those you believe would serve us well and put aside their own petty ambitions?”
“A few,” Tenel said, his thoughts turning to his friend Horsch.
“Prepare me a list of names as soon as you can. I will make certain to contact them.”
Tenel nodded, then turned and left the chamber. Behind him echoed the dying screams of the Crell Sovereigns….and last vestiges of the old Imperium.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Godswar Saga (Omnibus) Page 86