by D. H. Aire
The battle steed suddenly raised his head and nickered. “Shields up!” Tett cried, raising his own, which bore the ancient sigil of Tane.
“We’ve been flanked!” someone shouted as the arrows rained in, most targeting the infantry in the center.
#
Kolter smiled grimly as the flight of arrows arched up into the night sky, that is until he heard the sound of the arrows cracking, breaking against their targets. “What?”
The old scryer turned and quickly poured water from his canteen into his bowl and brought it close to the lantern. The Tane infantry turned and began marching toward them as the archers loosed again to no effect.
“What magery is this?” Kolter demanded as his mounted men charged without him.
“Milord…” he rasped, seeing the too short infantrymen raise their pikes. Haydenese cavalry could see properly in the dark. Men and horses screamed as they were met by the unyielding wall of pikes.
“What’s happening?” Kolter yelled.
“Milord, they are statues… statues of dwarves.”
Kolter gasped, “That’s impossible.”
Dwarven battlecries not heard in the province in hundreds of years rang out.
“You fool!” He drew his dagger. “You old fool! You’ve led us into a trap!”
The old scryer straightened and smiled, “Long live Hayden and the Empire.” The dagger rammed into his heart.
“Fool!”
His page raced back to him as the scryer slumped to the ground. “Milord!”
“Gather the mages and the archers to me!”
The youth ran off.
#
Lord Tane came down from the tower, Ethan Seawarden at his side. “That should do it.”
“Milord Sharniel, about Lady Janielle.”
He paused, “Yes, Captain.”
“My men and I are sworn to protect her.”
“Yet, you wear my livery.”
“Yes, Milord.”
“Then I suggest you ask Lady Janielle’s feelings on the matter.”
“Her… Milord?”
“I’ve a feeling Lord Rathian will find Hayden more to his liking.”
#
Spiro unshackled Rathian as Farrel did the same to Janielle. Renara pushed open the chamber doors, “Tett’s ridden back, reporting a group of Haydenese riders escaped the trap and are heading toward the harbor.”
Farrel glanced at her black sword, “Kolter.”
Rathian shook his head, “Whatever you are thinking, do not, Milady. Kolter is crazier than my father ever was and he’s an archmage. He stood in this very room and brokered treason, on what we thought was on Janielle’s father’s behalf, even before the human mage upset all the schemes the Great Families plotted.”
“Lady Farrel won’t be without resources,” Spiro said.
“Are you mad?” Renara rasped.
“No, because you are coming along, too, my dear.”
“What?”
He met her astonished gaze. ‘Two mages are better than one.’
Frowning, Janielle said, “Farrel, stay here.”
She drew the black sword. “I'm sorry. I was planning to take a ship from the Empire in any case.”
Lord Sharniel stood on the landing above, “Then, Lady Farrel, see that this Kolter causes no more harm to my people or anyone of the Empire.”
The crystal anklet glowed as Farrel vowed, “He won’t.”
#
Renara frowned, riding triple in front of Tett and Spiro. “This is the tallest horse I’ve ever seen.”
The battle steed mare with Farrel mounted atop her rode at their side. “Well, he’s not actually a horse.”
The mare glanced at Renara and nodded.
“Lord Sharniel expressed his apologies for not having more statues to help defend us,” Farrel said.
Tett grinned, “What do we have to worry about? You just brought a statue to life and overturned the ruling family that has been making dwarves miserable for centuries.”
“Yes, what do we have to worry about?” Spiro said as Renara glanced down at Tett’s hand on her waist.
#
Kolter’s horse faltered as they neared the harbor. He frowned, glancing back at his escort and his most trusted mages. “We are close enough.”
They dismounted and the mages grabbed hold of Kolter’s page.
“Milord?” his page said, eyes wide.
“You’ve served me well, lad.”
The lad struggled as Kolter placed his hands against his cheeks and forced him to meet his gaze as he sang out in elvin a barely audible spell, which the youth suddenly took up.
Kolter’s body writhed as he slumped to the ground, whimpering.
The page slumped.
One of the mages said to the escort, “Carry them. We must reach the docks as soon as we can.”
#
“Lord Sharniel?” Ethran Seawarden rasped. “Uh, that’s a pretty substantial force, even on foot.”
Lord Tane shook his head. “I have it on good authority that a Cathartan with Kyrr’s sword is someone even an archmage should fear to challenge.”
“You what?” the former Haydenese captain muttered.
“Prophecy is a funny thing… even one that is apparently four hunded years old. Now, I need to work some stone.”
Mistress Maj entered the tower chamber with Lady Janelle and two of Ethran’s men as bodyguards.
Lord Sharniel smiled. “Lady Maj, I take it that your people are in place.”
“Yes, Milord,” she replied, frowning.
Ethran glanced down at his livery. Its sigil glowed as did that of Janielle’s guards.
“Excellent.”
#
The pair of battle steeds raced toward the docks, scenting dark magery. Spiro began muttering a defensive spell as Renara felt it building and “shared” her will with it.
Farrel drew the sword as the sun began to rise, her anklet flaring.
Tett frowned, hearing the faintest hum.
Kolter, two mages and several bodyguards at his back, stood at the turning of road ahead. He raised his hands as the mages cried out.
Farrel’s battle steed reared as she swung her sword. The other battle steed shied back as Tett muttered, “What was Plan B?”
Magery hit the black metal and the world around them seemed to explode.
#
“What happened?” the elflord ambassador demanded, feeling himself in two places at once, somehow back home peering out from the turret at night, while here now as the battle ebbed.
“Lord Sharniel, that crystal of his flared. He’s collapsed like this before, but, well, never this bad,” the black liveried Cathartan replied. “Where’s the Mother Shaman?”
“Lady Ter’sa, she collapsed, too,” Lord Sharniel answered, looking about, bemused.
“What?” she rasped.
“Perhaps, it has something to do with that,” he gestured behind them.
Ter’sa shook her head, “I don’t know if I’m ever going to get used to magery.”
“Nice bastian,” Lord Garvin said, approaching them with a healer riding double behind him.
“Apparently Her Majesty decided to aid Lord Gwire, after all,” Lord Sharniel said.
Master Garvin scratched his head, “Uh, I think the Archmage must have made a rather convincing argument. However they managed this.”
“Well, I dare say,” Ter’sa said, “seeing that fortress appear out of the side of the cliff certainly surprised the goblins who couldn’t get out of the way in time.”
“And it is rather conveniently located, too,” Lord Sharniel admitted.
“Will Lord Kyrr be all right?” Lady Ter’sa asked as the healer hurried to his side.
After a moment, the elfblood replied, “I believe so, but he is terribly cold. Though, I have not the slightest idea why. We must get him under heavy blankets and at least a body warmer might be of aid, I think.”
“Let’s get him and the Mother
Shaman to that bastian,” Lady Ter’sa said.
“Certainly,” Master Garvin replied, fearing Kyrr’s spells were only getting worse. That was something he would have to discuss with the Archmage. He gestured to the nearest Legionnaires. “We had best hurry… That dragon is hurt, but will likely be back.”
Lord Sharniel blinked as the spots before his eyes cleared, shaking his head at that memory, while gripping the turret’s stone for solace. “Fare-thee-well, Lady.”
#
The sun was well risen as the ship’s captain stood at attention, “Your Majesty.”
“Your Majesty, please,” Terhun pleaded as she stood at the prow. “You have been awake all night. You need your rest.”
The Empress ignored him, her gaze intent on the river and the banks they flowed past.
“It could be worse, Master Terhun,” Lonny said. “She was going ride out on me without fanfare or escort.”
Their somewhat short warder floated above the wood floorboards and said in a gravelly voice, “We are approaching the Fourth Legion’s new Citadel.”
The Empress gestured. “Well, the farmers seem to be returning to their homes.”
“They see profit at having thousands of Imperials suddenly living here… who have so many prisoners to feed,” Terhun said.
The captain said, “We are coming around the new bend.”
“The new Keep is ahead,” the sailor called from the crow’s nest.
“The Highmage’s Keep,” the Empress said.
“His banner is not flying,” her scryer reported minutes later.
“Well,” the Empress soon chuckled, “I suppose what is makes a statement. That is Cathartan livery, isn’t it?”
Lonny frowned, “It’s rather short for Se’and’s.”
“And somehow I don’t think she’d treat hers quite so cavalierly,” the Empress said with a thin smile.
Terhun frowned, “Scryer, report everything you see… We want no surprises.”
“Too late for that,” the Empress muttered.
#
George woke, startled to find himself in a soft bed under plush sheets and blankets. “Uh, good morning.”
Staff was leaning against the bed of the bedroom which was as large as the Empress’s in the Imperial palace. It suddenly flared. The exact time flashed across his mind. :Welcome back to the living, sleepy head.:
Se’and stirred beside him, “Ugh, my head’s pounding.”
His face was licked, then he was sniffed. “You need bath,” Raven said, leaning close.
Se’and’s eyes went wide as she glanced up. “Uh, Raven?”
“Oh, good, they’re awake,” said the warder standing by the door.
“Which one are you?” Se’and asked as Raven burrowed back under the blankets.
“Aliana… Revit’s, well, asleep and so is Terus.”
“Oh… Raven,” George muttered, curling up, wrestling with his foster-daughter.
She twisted about under the blankets. “We play?”
Se’and glanced at him, “Je’orj.”
“No, uh, Raven, not now,” he rasped, thinking, not ever if I can help it.
The girl, who was a bit taller than he remembered, smiled, suddenly satisfied with just taking his hand and sniffing it. “Good hands.”
“I, uh, see that,” he replied as he tried not to.
She pushed one of her own before his nose, “You like?”
“Quite nice, Raven.”
She twisted around and wiggled her toes beneath his chin. ‘You like?’ she thought at him.
He nodded, “Um, very nice.”
Raven crawled around and changed to her furrier form and nestled close as he stroked her side. ‘Good,’ she said, closing her eyes and going to sleep.
Se’and looked on, bemused.
:George, you have other things to worry about.:
“What now?” he muttered.
:Apparently you subconsciously drew from our archeology database.”
“I did what?”
:You changed the ‘play.’: Images filled his mind.
“Oh.”
:Not that I do not think the changes may prove useful. It could have been worse, you almost remodeled based on Troy:
George winced.
Se’and sighed, rising from the bed, naked, to look out the window. “Aliana, where are we? This doesn’t look like the keep.”
“We’re not at the keep, Milady. This is the new summer palace.”
“What? How did we get here?” Se’and asked as George swallowed hard.
“Ri and I think, well, you might have had something to do with that.”
“Me?” Se’and murmured.
George blinked, glancing at her.
“Sorry, Milady, but… it certainly seemed like you took hold of reality and shifted us here.”
“Me?” Se’and said, “That’s crazy.”
:Ri is correct, Se’and. You took control. Or, perhaps, it was Cle’or who did… Or Farrel… she was here, too, for a moment, was she not?:
Se’and frowned, “What are you talking about?”
George frowned, “I seem to remember the three of you were changing places. We were at the keep one moment, I was here with Cle’or the next, and in Tane with Farrel… she’s woken up a statue by the way.”
:George—:
The door opened. “Make way for the Empress,” Lonny announced, grinning as the ward briefly blocked her way.
The Empress entered and said, “Leave us.”
The warder bowed her head and exited as Lonny secured the door.
Raven squirmed around and peered up from the edge of the bed, shimmered and changed form, she sat up the blankets falling behind her. “My, my, Raven,” the Empress said, “you’ve grown. Hasn’t she, Je’orj?”
Raven grinned.
The Empress shook her head, “Why do I suddenly feel… overdressed?”
George swallowed. “Um, Your Majesty.”
Chuckling, Se’and settled back on the pillow, blankets pulled up as the Empress said, “Je’orj, what have you done to my Empire — besides apparently getting Se’and pregnant?”
Se’and blinked, “Oh, you noticed.”
“Congratulations, by the way,” the Empress said. “Lonny, help me get out of this horrendous dress. I’m going to bed for, hmm, a week or so.”
“Um,” George said.
“This is lovely place,” the Empress added. “I particularly like all the battle steeds guarding the place.”
“Battle steeds?” he rasped.
:George, did I fail to mention that?:
Lonny grinned, “Your Majesty, you’re going to need your seamstress to let out your clothes soon.”
The Empress nodded as George frowned. “I’ll need more than a week, I think,” the Empress said. “Oh, Se’and, I do hope you haven’t brought your sword to bed.”
“I keep it close at hand. Daggers, though.”
“Fine. Lonny, what’s taking so long?”
“Sorry, Your Majesty,” she said, “you're laced pretty tight.” Lonny looked over meaningfully at the staring George.
:George, stop that… There’s something else you should know.”
The Empress sighed, slipping out of her dress a moment later. “Much better.”
Se’and held the blanket open for her.
:George… Oh, George.:
George just stared at the Empress, who seemed to have put on a little weight. “Um.”
:And now he goes all human on me.:
“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” the Empress asked.
“Puppies,” Raven said, glancing at Se’and, grinning broadly.
Postscript
Farrel rose, dizzy from the straw in the hold and climbed the ladder. The captain paused, offering her his hand to finish her ascent. “Good day, Milady. Happy to have you aboard again. Sorry we could not offer you better accommodations for you or your friends.”
“Um, thank you, Captain.” She climbed
on deck and went to the prow of the ship as more sails were unfurled. She looked up at the locks scaling up the southern cliffs of the Empire. Fate had played a terrible trick on her. Her hand cradled the hilt of her sword. How could she love so and leave it all behind? Her heart was breaking, knowing this was both a matter of honor and of prophecy.
Below deck her rather large horse neighed, calling her from her morose thoughts. She went back down the ladder and the smell hit her. Pungent and acrid, it brought tears to her eyes, or at least that’s what she told herself as the crystalline anklet on her right foot glowed, reflecting out her sorrows.
Her second mount whinnied.
She offered both feed. “I’m a bit fuzzy. You?”
The two mounts glanced at each other.
Come back, a distant mind voice cried, yet the woman in the dark robe, had not the mind skill to hear it. Which, had she known of it, she would have considered a blessing.
When she reached her rather large mare, she slipped into its stall, “Shh, I’m here now. Although, I’m not all together sure how.”
The mare met her gaze and nickered. Her eyes wide and filled with a compassion that looked practically human.
In the next stall, the mare’s mate, glanced at the haystack across the room uncertainly as the ship gently rocked.
The young woman shook her head, stroking her mount’s muzzle. “You and I will be just fine, won’t we?”
Her mount nodded, feeling reality rippling around them as prophecy cast its die into paradox.
“Taking on the world, and just think, I only got married a week ago.”
“Ohhh,” someone said, moaning.
She turned toward the haystack as a rather small arm poked out and a dwarf rolled free.
“Tett! What are you doing here?”
“Huh? Where am—”
There was another groan. “By the Empress!”
She winced, “Spiro! What are you two doing here?”
“Um, Lady! Oh, my aching head, another ship? Hey, where are we bound?”
With a sigh, she replied, “The last place in the world you two should be… Cathart.”
“I’m going to kill Fronkwin! Rescue a ruddy statue, he says… now bound for… Lady, what do you think you’re doing leaving…”
“Don’t say it… I’m going home to break a Curse and I don’t need you two to do it, either!”
Tett glanced at Spiro, “Um, what’s the last thing you remember?”