A Dark, Distorted Mirror. Volume 4. A Future, Born in Pain addm-4

by Gareth D. Williams

  Sinoval nodded, and then dismissed Rastenn. He had asked that question of every defector who had come before him, and never yet received an answer he had been satisfied with. He then looked at the two members of the Primarch's Blades who were standing guard, together with the Praetors Tutelary. Minbari warriors and Soul Hunter guardians were watching each other with a wariness that never faded, but had been subsumed by the greater need to protect their Primarch.

  He found himself wishing there was someone he could truly talk to. He found himself wishing Kats were here. But of course she was on Tarolin 2, rebuilding there with Kozorr, trying to mend the wounds of their hearts as well as the physical wounds of war. Sinoval was content to leave them there. His attempts to heal Kozorr's injuries had bought the warrior renewed life, but for a few months only. Let the two of them have their present. It was all they would ever have.

  He also found himself wishing the Primarch were here. He closed his eyes and remembered the flash of light that had taken the Soul Hunter in the Starfire Wheel. A part of him lived on in the Well of Souls, but it was not the same.

  He found himself wishing he could talk to Durhan, his Sech, his teacher. But he was busy, working with the Vindrizi on their sanctuary world and preparing the beginnings of something very special, something for.... afterwards.

  He found himself wishing he were a child again, learning at Varmain's feet. He found himself wishing he could remember more of her lessons, more of her words. Alas, all he could recall were her last whispers.

  So much. Valen has blessed me indeed.

  Had Valen blessed him? Would he look back on his life as an old man on his dying day and smile as she had done?

  He laughed at the thought. What foolishness! A futile dream of one who had not realised until too late the price of all his decisions. Now he knew, but now it was too late. He was stuck with the burden of his responsibilities.

  That, he knew, was why he was moving so slowly. He could have finished Sonovar months ago, destroyed him directly after the loss of the Tak'cha. Even giving the renegade enough time to accept or refuse the offer of negotiations, he could have moved by now. So why had he not? He knew why. He knew what he would have to do after Sonovar was defeated.

  He raised his pike, Stormbringer, and looked at it. He had forged it with a part of his own soul, and it had absorbed and claimed all his darkest essence, becoming a distorted reflection of himself he did not like to acknowledge. There were times when he longed for a day he could set it down and never raise it again, and others when he wished to lift it high on a battlefield and charge to his death.

  No. No more procrastinating, no more delays. Rastenn's words had confirmed what he already knew, what he needed to know. He had to act now.

  "Lanniel," he said, and she looked up. His choice was not random, he had known she would be the one for this task ever since he had prepared it in his mind. There were few others he could trust with something like this.

  "Lanniel, there is something I need you to do. It will be dangerous, very much so, and it may well claim your life."

  "I'm not afraid to die, Primarch," she replied simply. "Command me, and I shall obey."

  He sighed. He had known she would say that.

  * * *

  "When I was a child, I used to watch the workers at nightfall. I was meditating, training, all the things young warriors do. There was one occasion, one out of many, but this one I remember.... I was standing in the Reihaido Gardens in Yedor. I was still and quiet, absorbing my surroundings, filling myself with knowledge, memories, the wisdom of my ancestors.

  "Then I heard laughter. It was not mocking, not arrogant, not bitter. It was the genuine laughter of happy people. I roused from my meditation, irritated and annoyed, and turned to see who it was.

  "They were workers, three of them. They were returning from some task. They were covered with dust, their garments were worn and dirty. They looked.... pathetic.

  "But they were laughing. They were smiling. They were happy. I wondered why, and I wondered for a long, long time. What could such as they have to be truly happy about?"

  Kozorr smiled, and brushed the dust of stone from his tunic. "Now I know," he said.

  "It is a wonderful feeling, isn't it?" Kats agreed softly. She saw the light of understanding in her beloved's eyes. She heard the whispers of peace in his voice. But she also knew that the peace, understanding and contentment he had been radiating these past months were nothing but masks, thin layers of silk over a heart that burned and raged.

  Still, even the thinnest of layers could one day harden.

  "To create," he said in wonder. "To stand back and look at the efforts of your labours. It is.... I have been trained in twelve different techniques of meditation, each one aimed at bringing calm and peace, a respite from worldly concerns and fears. None of them has ever made me feel as I do now."

  It lit her heart to see him so happy. She knew what it had cost him to be here. The two of them had come here after the incidents on Anla'Verenn–veni, partly at Sinoval's wish, but also to try to force a reconciliation. There was still much to be done here. Even after the damage done by Sonovar's attack over a year before, there were raiders, pirates, scavengers. Warriors had been sent to help deal with them, mostly people who had defected from Sonovar's side. Many of these had known Kozorr before. They saw him moving with workers, 'grubbing in the dirt' as one of them had put it.

  He had said nothing, but looked down, his eyes dark. They chose to interpret his place in the work crews as a particularly humiliating punishment from Sinoval. He had not chosen to disabuse them.

  "Are you tired?" she asked. He never looked directly at her any more, always choosing to stare just to one side or keep his head down. Still, at least he could bear to be around her these days. He would talk to her. The inner demons he was battling were being cast down.... albeit slowly.

  "I feel I could stay awake for weeks," he said.

  "Perhaps you should sleep. Then I...." She hesitated. She had been intending to say this for some time, but the words had never come. Now she was sure she was ready. There were rituals and formalities to be followed. She had not approached his family, and even if they were still alive she had no illusions as to how they would receive her suit. Nor had she formally asked his lord - Sinoval. She knew what he would say, but she knew she had to do this herself.

  "Then I could watch you."

  His eyes flashed with remembered pain, and he looked down. "I.... That would.... not be...."

  "My name is Kats," she said, stiffly. He had not spoken her name since his return here. "Or you used to call me 'my lady'. I always liked it when you did."

  "It would not be.... appropriate," he said harshly. "Not any more."

  "We both know it is."

  "I am not worthy of you. Please.... don't make me say this. We both know I do not deserve you.... not after what...."

  "No!" she snapped loudly, speaking with a force that belied her gentle bearing. "Kozorr, listen to me.... You did not abandon me when I needed help."

  "But I did," he said. "I should have helped you.... I should have acted against Kalain earlier, I should have...."

  "No! You acted when it was right to do so. You spoke to me when I screamed at night. You were always there, always wise and strong. I thought of you constantly when.... Kalain was.... You restored my mind and my soul to me.

  "Now, I am free.... and I will restore your soul to you." It was true. She was free from Kalain now. There had been a vision on Anla'Verenn–veni, where she had seen him again and realised that she did not hate him any more, or fear him. No.... she only pitied him, and so she had been able to forgive him.

  "I have no soul," he whispered. "My lady, why.... please.... leave me...."

  "No." She glided across the floor of his simple room, moving to his side. He turned away, but she reached up and touched his face, looking into his eyes. "Neither of us can know what will happen tomorrow, but we do know that there is today. I know you
need healing. For all these months you have needed healing. I am here, and I will not abandon you. Not again."

  "My lady.... Kats...."

  "No," she said again. "Don't say anything." Gently she touched her lips to his and held him close to her. He wept and trembled, and every tear cleansed both of them, until they were healed and ready to face their future.

  * * *

  There is a message I need you to take to Sonovar. Place it in his hands. Do not harm him or any of those who follow him. That is important. Defend yourself, yes.... but harm none of them.

  If he chooses to give a reply, then bring it back to me.

  This is the most important thing I have ever asked of anyone, and the hardest. I have faith in you, Lanniel. I know you will not fail me.

  * * *

  It took a great deal to rouse Sonovar from his torpor these days. Takier doubted even the news he was bringing his lord would manage that feat, but he was to be surprised, never a feeling he had welcomed.

  And he had been surprised once already this day.

  "And what is she?" Sonovar had asked. Takier had insisted on informing his lord personally of this. It was not an honour any had sought to take from him. Few wished to have anything to do with Sonovar recently, save only his loathsome advisor, Forell.

  "Has she come here as an emissary? An assassin? A messenger? A threat, what? What is she?"

  "She is my daughter," Takier said simply, and a dark light had burned within Sonovar's eyes, the first sense of excitement since the Tak'cha had left.

  "Then take me to her."

  Lanniel was where she had been left, guarded by five warriors with weapons drawn, ready for the slightest provocative move. She had claimed to have come alone with an important message for Sonovar. Her ship had been searched and it had been confirmed there was no one hiding there, nor were there any suicide devices, either on the ship or on her person. She had surrendered her weapon with no complaint, and demanded to see Sonovar.

  Takier pondered this, and was darkly compelled to believe her story was true. She had come here to talk, not to fight. He did not like the thought of that.

  She looked up as he and Sonovar entered, and her eyes betrayed no sign of recognition at the sight of her father. He in turn spared her no thought. She had chosen to ignore the orders of her father, her lord and her clan, and had sworn herself to an usurper and a traitor. He had no kinship with her now. She was nothing but an enemy.

  But in the part of his soul that spoke not as a warrior or a lord, but as a man, he was proud to see his daughter stand so tall, so ready, so much a warrior in her every essence.

  He looked around and saw Tirivail in the far corner, her eyes and bearing troubled. Concern festered within him. She had changed greatly since her return from Anla'Verenn–veni. He did not know the cause of this change within her, or what he could do to soothe her pain. All he could do was speak to her as lord to soldier. He had long ago forgotten how to speak as father to daughter.

  Tirivail's eyes were locked onto her sister. Lanniel in turn paid her no heed.

  "So," Sonovar said, softly. "We have a guest." His words were flat and harsh. "Why are you here, traitor?"

  "I have been sent to deliver a message to you," she said simply. There was no passion in her voice, no hatred, just a simple statement of fact.

  "Then give me your words."

  "It is for you only," she replied, holding up a data crystal. "This is yours."

  One of the guards took it from her and studied it carefully. Takier knew it to be what it seemed. It was not poisoned, nor any form of explosive device or other instrument of assassination. Of course, it might yet contain ways to destroy or wound. Words could do that.

  Sonovar took it and held it up to the light, seeing the rays illuminate and scatter across its surfaces. "Ah," he said. "I wonder what proud words Sinoval has for me. Perhaps he wishes to surrender?" Takier half–wondered whether that was a joke. A year ago he would have been sure it was, and would have laughed accordingly. But then Sonovar was a very different person from the one he had been a year ago.

  Sonovar turned his gaze back from the crystal to Lanniel. "And is that the extent of your mission?"

  "I am to take any reply you may have back to my lord Primarch."

  Sonovar smiled. "Ah.... then your mission is indeed finished. I have no words to say to him. None whatsoever, despite what he may choose to say to me, despite whatever lies he chooses to try to feed me. You see, your mission is over.

  "Tirivail!"

  She stepped forward. "I am at your command, my lord."

  "That is your sister, yes?"

  "Once, that was correct, my lord. Now she is.... nothing. A traitor, no more."

  "I am glad to hear that. As you said, she is a traitor. Kill her."

  Takier clenched his hand into a fist, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. He looked directly at Lanniel, and felt her eyes meet his. He hoped she could see his pride. She was not moving, not crying out in fear, not trying to flee or beg for her life. She was going to die as a warrior should. What more could a father ask of his daughter than that she die well?

  The five guards stepped aside, ready for Tirivail to move forward. Sonovar looked away, focussing once more on the crystal. Takier did not. He could not have turned from the sight of his children.

  Once, he had had three children. Now, he had but one.

  Tirivail and Lanniel looked at each other for a long while, and for the first time Lanniel seemed to recognise her sister's presence. Something passed between them in that moment, something indefinable, that not even Takier himself could truly comprehend. He had had a brother, who had died in battle long years before. Since then he had been alone, unable to experience the bond his daughters had shared.

  Abruptly Tirivail turned to face Sonovar. She fell to her knees and extended her pike to him. It was ready to be used.

  "I cannot obey your command, my lord," she said, her voice strained. "My life is yours. Take it, for my failure."

  Sonovar looked at her suddenly, shocked, even stunned. He staggered back, then turned and left, not running, but certainly moving faster than was dignified or appropriate.

  All eyes turned to Takier. He looked first at Tirivail. "Rise," he said. "Go to your quarters to await your lord's decision." She bowed once, and then left. "As for.... her.... place her in a cell. See that she is well–guarded, but also that she is well cared for. Remain there until Lord Sonovar or I say something different."

  He turned and made to leave, but something, something he could not accurately express, forced him to turn and look at his daughters. "I am proud of you," he said. "Both of you." Then he left.

  It was the first time he had ever said those words to either of them, but he had meant them. He had meant them a thousand times over.

  * * *

  Sonovar laid the data crystal down on the table and closed his eyes. He could still hear Sinoval's words echoing around his dead chamber. He could still feel Sinoval's presence in every particle of air, a ghost that would haunt him until he died.

  He had nothing to say. It was lies, all of it. Lies! It had to be, had to be.

  But what if it were true? What if...? No, it was lies.

  He did not know. He did not know.

  He turned the merest instant before Forell came into view, bearing as ever his silver tray and golden goblet. Sonovar darted to his advisor's side and scooped up the drink, draining it, heedless of the crimson rivulets that ran down his chin, dripping onto his tunic and to the floor, each one a drop of blood falling from his mouth.

  "The elixir is life." The words came to him somehow, from somewhere, from some part of his consciousness. "The elixir is blood. The blood is life."

  "True words, great lord," rasped Forell. He took back the goblet Sonovar thrust at him. "True words, indeed." Sonovar had not even been aware he had spoken aloud. "Were there equally true words from the traitor, Primarch Sinoval?"

  Don't give him that title!
Sonovar turned, about to shout the words aloud, but he stopped, wondering for a minute whether he had already said them. It did not matter. "I do not know," he said, trying to remember what it was Sinoval had said. It was strange, just a moment before he could hear Sinoval, hear his every syllable. Now, it seemed as if the message had come to him from another galaxy.

  "No," he said at last. "It was lies. All of it. A lie."

  "Then will you give him a reply, great and noble lord?"

  "No.... yes.... I do not know. What does it matter? I am a warrior, not a diplomat. I need no words. My voice is in my blade."

  "Indeed it is, great lord. Then you must send him a message by means other than words, yes?"

  "Yes. Yes, I must. I am a warrior! My voice is in my blade."

  "Attack his shipyards. Attack his people."

  "Yes!" Sonovar turned away from his advisor, and began to pace up and down. "Yes! I will destroy him! We will attack!"

  "Krindar, my lord. He is building a new fleet there, a strange, dark new breed of ships. Greater Krindar. That is where his shipyards are."

  "Greater Krindar. We will burn his shipyards to the ground, raze them to nothing but ash and dust. Yes.... that is what we will do. We are warriors, after all. Forell! Fetch my captains. Takier, Kozorr, Haxt...." He paused. "No. Kozorr and Haxtur are gone.... left me. Forell, what...?"

  "I shall fetch Lord Takier to you, great lord, that you may communicate to him your grand plan. You shall gain a great victory at Greater Krindar, lord."

  "What is at Krindar?"

  "The shipyards of the Accursed One, great lord." Forell's voice was calm and patient, as though explaining to a child.

  And perhaps a child was what he was explaining to. A cloud had slipped over Sonovar's mind for a time, a dark and foggy cloud, but it was beginning to pass, slowly, revealing flickers of light and no more. He could see Sinoval standing there, hear his words.

  "That I know," he said. There were shipyards at Krindar, yes.... but were they Sinoval's? He could not seem to remember. "You seem very eager to pursue this, Forell. What is there in it for you?"