"I'm going hunting to the west," Jaal said at last.
It had been a while, but Konowa could tell his friend was troubled. "Orcs? You'll be back in a fortnight. They aren't our problem and you know it. I thought I'd put an end to Her ideas in this part of the world, but it seems ridding the world of one of Her servants only got me a whole lot of trouble."
Jaal smiled at his friend. "You did the world a favor when you killed the Viceroy, I'm sorry I wasn't able to"
Konowa waved him off. "I wasn't going to have you throw away your career for something I did. Besides, I know what you did for my boys. If some in the royal court had had their way, the Iron Elves would have been scattered throughout the army. You kept them together."
Now it was the Duke's turn to motion Konowa to stop. "I'm not sure it was much of a favor. They sent them to garrison the forts in the southern wastes across the Midea Sea. Just sand, camels, and not a tree for hundreds of miles. Pretty damn harsh, especially for elves born in the forest."
"Not elves," Konowa said, "Iron Elves. We don't have quite the same affinity for trees as the others. Still, I imagine it's been rough for them."
"They won't hate you, if that's what you're thinking. You did what had to be done, they know that."
Konowa bowed his head. "Maybe. I've had a year to think about it myself. I sometimes wonder…" He lifted his head, pushing those dark thoughts from his mind. "Enough of that. So, I hear there's a new Viceroy in town."
Jaal nodded, but did not smile. "Faltinald Gwyn, career weasel, pardon me, diplomat. Invited me over to his palace the other night. He claims the orcs are meddling in magics and other sorcery that they can't possibly understand, in league with Her and those rakke things."
"Orcs working with an elf-witch? Is he mad?" That was about as likely as a dwarf voluntarily shaving his beard.
"I don't know. What I do know is I'm leaving and taking the cavalry with me just as you return. There's unrest in the north that the Viceroy's convinced is the start of a rebellion, but he's ordered me west." Jaal winked at Konowa. "So naturally I sent some scouts up north to check things out, but they won't be back before I have to leave."
"Maybe he's a treasure hunter like the last one," Konowa said, his fists clenching as an image of the last Viceroy flashed through his mind. The elf had disgraced them allif Konowa had to do it all over again, it would have ended the same.
"This one is full weasel. I don't know what he's up to," Jaal said, this time looking away from Konowa's glance.
Konowa smiled at his old friend. There was a wary, sad look to Jaal. Did he feel guilty about what had happened to him? Jaal had always been like an older brother, even though Konowa had decades on him. Jaal had threatened to resign his commission and go with Konowa after his court-martialand Konowa knew he would have if he had let him. Alone in the forest, Konowa had been the one to carry guilt around, with only Jir by his side; never judging, never condemning. He would never have the bengar's stoicism, but he could sure as hell match its loyalty.
"You have been more friend to me than any elf has a right to," Konowa said. He winked at Jaal, spread his arms out wide, closed his eyes, and began speaking in a deep voice. "Lim rokna re rika, ti rokna se rika, gev esig lo werta oxul, ki rika yinja."
Jaal shook his head, sending his red hair flying about his face. "I'm a bit rusty. May my cullions be squeezed by a maiden fair?"
Konowa opened his eyes and fixed Jaal with a look of mock disdain. "You fight your battles, I'll fight mine, and we will find our enemy is the same, and fight as one."
Jaal bowed his head. Konowa took it for relief.
"So," Konowa said, "my banishment is over, and Marshal Ruwl is still days away. What do we do now?"
The Duke of Rakestraw took a deep breath and sat up straight, looking around the tent for a few moments before returning his gaze to Konowa.
"Swift Dragon, you may have been hugging trees for companionship for the past year, but you aren't that addled yet. We do what soldiers the world over have done when awaiting their orders." He leaned forward and reached into one of the spare riding boots, pulling out a large black bottle. "We drink!"
ELEVEN
Despite what felt like a lifetime of virtual isolation in a sweltering, bug-biting, foul-smelling forest with little else to do but think, Konowa Swift Dragon remained at a loss about how one really found inner peace. Was it knowing which question to ask, or merely the act of searching for the answer? With considerable effort he considered his current predicament and gave it a try.
His head pounded like a kettledrum on a sun-baked parade square. Even the long-gone tip of his left ear hurt. It wasn't a result of his battle with the rakkes, nor Visyna's attempt on his life…before she got to know him, of course. It wasn't almost getting decapitated by Her Majesty's overeager cavalry or even the simple insidious torture of riding a horse. It was, and of this he was absolutely sure, the Sala brandy he had been drinking with the Duke of Rakestraw for the past forty-eight hours.
"The commander of Her Majesty's forces in the Greater Protectorate of Elfkyna asked you a question," Marshal Ruwl's wizard was saying.
And that. A fire deep within Konowa rekindled. There were six officers on Ruwl's staff in the Duke's tent, though Jaal had departed earlier that morning without even saying good-bye. Something was bothering his old friend, but as drunk as they had gotten Jaal refused to discuss it, instead finding more bottles and flasks tucked away in sleeves and pockets and regaling him with the events of the past year.
"Did he now?" Konowa replied, turning his attention back to the group crowded around him.
They glittered and sparkled like a flock of magpie dragons, their chests adorned with bright baubles, there to impress other males and woo females. Konowa read their faces and saw their disdain. He yawned and scratched his head, then lurched forward as if he was going to leap at them. They all flinched, all except the old elven wizard, Jurwan Leaf Talker. He calmly stared at Konowa while munching on a bag of nuts. His eyes sparkled with annoying intelligence in a weather-tanned face so craggy it might have been bark. Leaf Talker leaned on a halberd with a burnished, sharpened point on one end, a string of leaves wrapped around the base of the point like a garland. Clad as he was in a many-colored robe of animal skins and wearing an intricate feather headdress of gray, black, and red plumage that drooped down over the tops of his ears, the wizard looked more like a vagabond than the wielder of powerful magic that Konowa knew him to be.
"I did," the marshal said, "and you will be so kind as to reply."
Konowa broke the wizard's stare and finally looked at Marshal Ruwl. He was a hollow caricature of the man Konowa had once known. Despite the light that glowed through the canvas tent the marshal appeared faded. His silver-green coatee hung loose from his shoulders and his bicorn wobbled on his head as if it had shrunk. What surprised Konowa the most, though, were his eyes; rheumy and red-rimmed, too weak to hold a stare for more than a moment.
"No," Konowa said.
"No?" replied the marshal. Several of the officers gasped, while Leaf Talker smiled.
"Are you deaf now, too?" Konowa asked.
At least three sabers rattled in their scabbards as the marshal's staff surged forward at the insult.
A small cough from the wizard caught everyone's attention.
"Gentlemen," Ruwl said, "please vacate this tent so that we may speak alone."
"But, sir"
The marshal raised a slim hand and quieted his retinue.
"Now."
They left reluctantly. Leaf Talker, however, remained.
"You're drunk," the marshal said without preamble.
"And you're a coward, but at least I'll be sober in a few hours," Konowa said, collapsing onto the Duke's chair.
If the insult affected the marshal, he didn't show it. "You don't like me, do you?"
Konowa stared at him for several seconds. "You wonder if I like you? I despise you. The Iron Elves were disbanded because of you. Fine, c
ourt-martial me for saving the Empire, but they did nothing wrong."
The marshal's sword whistled from its scabbard and was pressing against Konowa's throat in a flash. The eyes that had looked so old and tired a moment ago now burned with a fury that caught Konowa's breath. He glanced over at the wizard, who was busy stuffing several nuts into this mouth at once and showed no signs of intervening.
"You…don't…know…anything!" the marshal whispered hoarsely. "I had no choice."
Konowa glared back at Ruwl. "Like hell. You know damn well the Viceroy was in league with the Shadow Monarch. He was doing everything in his power to stir up revolt in this country. I did the world a favor when I killed him, and what did I get for it? A court-martial and my regiment taken away. Tell me, how do you sleep at night?"
"I don't sleep anymore," Ruwl said absently, lowering his sword. He looked at Konowa with eyes that were once again those of a very tired, very old man. Resheathing the blade, Ruwl walked over to the cot and lowered himself to sit. It barely sagged under his weight.
Something deep inside Konowa stirred, and he was shocked to realize it was pity. "Are you looking for sympathy?"
"No, and neither will you get any from me," Ruwl said. "Command is about making difficult choices. Of course I knew who the Viceroy really served. He was as artless as he was ruthless."
Hearing the admission left Konowa speechless.
"I knew," Ruwl continued, "Her Majesty knew, and I suspect most of the Empire knew, but that was beside the point. You took matters into your own hands by going to Luuguth Jor and killing him before there could be a trial. An officer of the crown cannot simply take matters into his own hands. You gave me no choice."
Konowa found his voice. "A trial? He was killing the elfkynan like flies, robbing their temples, digging up sacred relics in search of something for the Shadow Monarch. That mad elf was trying to put Her on the Queen's throne! He had to be stopped. Talking him to death wasn't an option."
"So he didn't tell you what he was searching for?" Ruwl asked. The look of surprise on his face appeared genuine.
"We didn't chat," Konowa said grimly.
Ruwl paused as he considered this, then continued. "When you were at Luuguth Jor, did you see…anything out of the ordinary?"
Konowa threw up his hands. "I saw a sad excuse for a fort, a few mud huts, a river, and an elf who was a disgrace to all the Hynta."
"And what did you do with the Viceroy's body?"
Konowa's next outburst froze on his lips. "We buried it outside the fort. Why?"
Ruwl looked over at Leaf Talker, who swallowed the nuts in his mouth and shook his head, sending the feathers in his headdress dancing. "All things that will be, will be, unless they are destined to be…different."
The pain behind Konowa's eyes increased. "What?"
"Quite," Leaf Talker said, thumping his halberd on the ground. Vibrations hummed through the air; for a moment it was as if a door to another world had opened, and then closed again. "Despite your time among the trees, you have learned very little from them."
Konowa wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry. "My patience was at an end before this conversation started. You sent for me, not the other way around. In the few days I've been back in civilization, I've been attacked by extinct creatures, heard enough rumors to last several lifetimes, and still I don't have the first clue what is going on."
Marshal Ruwl stood and withdrew a thin scroll of parchment from his jacket, handing it to Konowa. "We know why the rakkes have returned. They are but the first. More will come. Unless we find a way to stop Her."
Konowa gripped the scroll hard. The dream he'd tried very hard to forget flashed vividly before his eyes. The Shadow Monarch's cold hand reached out to him from the shadows. He could feel the paper softening with the sweat of his own hand. The marshal and the wizard stared at him, waiting.
Konowa had no choice. He was going to accept no matter what they had planned. She had to be stopped, and he needed to belong again. It was like standing on a mountain peak; there was nowhere to go but back down.
Konowa nodded and slackened his grip on the scroll, prying open the wax seal and pulling the rolled paper to its full length. When he finished reading it, the strength in his body gave out and he sank into the chair, the scroll sliding from his hand.
"You're reforming the Iron Elves…"
"I really rather expected you to have pieced that together before now," Ruwl stated, his tone bringing Konowa back to his senses.
Konowa's mind raced with the possibilities. "To do what, lead them on a death march? Her mountain is well guarded, Her power too great for a single regiment, not that the men wouldn't try. But no one who enters Her realm comes back."
There was a small, dry noise from the wizard that sounded an awful lot like laughter, but when Konowa looked, the elf was busy stuffing still more of the endless supply of nuts into his mouth.
Ruwl looked annoyed. "No one is asking you to attack Her directly. There isn't the time or the resources to mount an expedition to travel across the ocean and lay siege to Her mountain. No, you are to take the regiment north following the Baynama River as far as Luuguth Jor."
"You said before you knew why the rakkes had returned. What's that got to do with Luuguth Jor?" For no reason Konowa could explain, he pictured the fort smothered in a sea of twisted trees.
Ruwl looked again to Leaf Talker, who nodded. "We believe more than just rakkes have returned."
Konowa put it together. "You can't be serious…I killed him. I put my saber through his heart. You court-martialed me for it."
"For disobeying orders," Ruwl said in an entirely matter-of-fact tone. "Killing him was beside the point. In any event, it seems he, or something like him, has returned. An apparition has been sighted in more than one place. It looks like the departed Viceroy, but claims to be Her Emissary."
"You have proof of this?"
Ruwl sighed, a pained look crossing his face. "No, at least, little more than rumor. Seers, shamans, and wizards among others say they have seen or felt something amiss, and it all points to Luuguth Jor. The garrison there has not been heard from in almost a fortnight. Strange stories are beginning to drift down from the north, but the new Viceroy has convinced Her Majesty that the cavalry should be pulled back to go after the orcs in the west. With them out of the north, we've had no way to confirm anything."
Konowa remembered the feel of his saber sliding into the elf's chest. He couldn't be alive, could he? "Jaalthe Duketold me about this move to the west. Is the Viceroy now in charge of the military here?"
The marshal rose slightly from the cot, then regained his composure. "He is Her Majesty's representative in this country, and his orders are the Queen's orders."
"Why us? Why go to all this trouble to reform the Iron Elves just to check out a rumor?"
"Simply put, we have no other choice. The Viceroy's orders apply to all Calahrian regiments in Elfkyna, and he wants them all focused on the western border and the orcs." The disdain in the marshal's voice was obvious.
"You don't suspect this new one, do you?" Konowa asked.
"He serves Her Majesty and has yet to show divided loyalties. Still, the Iron Elves are being raised by personal fiat of the Prince and as such do not fall under the orders of the Viceroy."
Konowa's head began to pound even harder as he tried to pick his way through the gambits within machinations. He looked at Leaf Talker, who smiled back as if nothing the least bit strange was happening, but then, wizards never played it straight…or monarchs or generals, for that matter.
"So the Queen allows her Viceroy to move all her forces in Elfkyna to the west, while at the same time allowing her son the Prince to raise a regiment to head east? What am I missing?"
"A head for politics," Ruwl said. "It is both naĂŻve and dangerous to view the Empire as being of one mind. The Queen, in her long reign, has developed that most delicate of royal traits: holding contradictory views at the same time."
; "Then she suspects the new Viceroy." Konowa had only met the Queen once, several years before at an award ceremony for several officers, himself one of the recipients. She'd smiled and been pleasant, laughing and making small talk, yet Konowa came away from that meeting with the distinct impression he'd been a mouse in the presence of a very charming cat.
Ruwl offered Konowa the briefest of smiles. "Her Majesty is prudent in all matters. Therefore, the regiment will proceed to Luuguth Jor and ascertain whether the Red Star has indeed fallen back to earth. If the Star is there, you will retrieve it."
"That prophecy?" Konowa said, looking straight at the wizard. "Shooting stars fall from the skies like rain. What about the old Viceroy?"
"Kill him, again. And this time, do a proper job of it."
Konowa blinked. "Kill a dead elf, again, and find a mythical magical object. Anything else?"
Ruwl pinched the bridge of his nose. "It is obvious that trees make poor intellectual companions. Your grasp of the greater import of things is not what it used to be. I would have thought the rakkes would be enough to convince you things have changed. If they can come back from the dead, why not the Viceroy, and if him, why not others? The Star, whether real or myth, is a significant threat, and must be kept from Her."
"It's still a faery tale," Konowa said. "Like the Ice Queen of the Julg orcs. The return of Stars from the heavens in the world's time of need is just legend."
"That matters little," Ruwl said, absently brushing at his sleeve. "To the elfkynan, and for that matter, to a great many in the Empire, the legend of the Star is the very foundation on which their faith is built. The Star's power is incalculable. The people believe it to be true, therefore it is true."
"It'll be a hunk of crystal," Konowa said, rolling his eyes, "a shiny gem that reflects the light in pretty colors."
The marshal tapped his foot. "Perception is reality. He, or she, who holds the Star commands the legend. What if the other Stars turn up? Magic or glass, we need this one. With it, we convince the elfkynan that the Empire remains strong, and thoughts of rebellion drift away. With it, we convince the Shadow Monarch to stay on Her mountain and not interfere in the affairs of the Empire. Without it, She and many more will grow to believe the opposite, even perhaps that they can defeat us."
A Darkness Forged in Fire Page 9