Ashes of Andromeda (The Last Archide Book 3)

by Chad R. Odom

  “I was gone but…I’m trying to give them…something,” he spoke almost to himself.

  “I have a friend in those ashes, too.” The man glanced at the garden. “It’s fitting that someone should remember him. He was a good man and deserved much more than this, however elegant it might be.” There was history and depth to the comment. “I could use his counsel now,” he added.

  Oryan eyed the man with suspicion. “You never told me how you knew this place.”

  “As I said, I come here often. It reminds me of what’s important.”

  “And your ‘friend’? What was his name?” Oryan countered.

  “In the shadow of such a place, one may glean much—much that isn’t spoken and much that is shouted to the stars. I knew a man who lived here, just as I know you, Oryan.”

  This man was an agent of the Empire. He had to be. He might seem different on the surface, but there was no other explanation. No one else could have come by this much information and found him here. Oryan’s defenses shot up like a cornered animal.

  In an instant, he lunged at the man, but where he should have been, he was not. Oryan tumbled forward but nimbly rolled from the miss and bounced to his feet. The man had vanished.

  “You’ll have to do better than that,” said a challenging voice behind him.

  Impossible. No one was that fast. “Who are you?” he asked with venom.

  The man smiled. “My name would mean nothing to you.” He took a few confident steps toward Oryan. “I guess, to you, my presence here is suspicious if nothing else. I can understand why you would think that.” A few more steps closer. Oryan backed away cautiously. “Nothing could be farther from the truth. I’m not your enemy. I’m not Halgren, or Seyah, who you knew as the Captain. I will say he deserved what you did to him. You finished your father’s business.”

  The mention of that name made Oryan feel even more exposed and vulnerable. How did he know all of this? Oryan suspected the Captain and Seyah were one in the same, but this man spoke as if it were an absolute truth. Was he one of Kovac’s? Oryan put together the pieces of Akon and reasonably concluded Kovac had set him up. If he’d tried it before, why not try again?

  Oryan shifted to throw a punch. The stranger blocked the blow easily with one hand and, with his other, he swiftly smashed at Oryan’s chest.

  But the man’s hand never struck Oryan. It stopped a few inches from him. There was a sound that rippled through the air like thunder. A loud boom echoed through the clearing. Oryan flew some ten feet backward. His ribs cracked and fresh bruises surfaced. He winced and moaned under the stress as he rolled to his stomach and tried to get to his hands and knees.

  The man approached; Oryan wrapped his arms around his ribs and curled into a ball, fearing the man was capable of something worse. Instead, the man kneeled next to him and laid a gentle hand on Oryan’s arm. Oryan’s body loosened almost instinctively. After a few moments, he exposed his broken body to the one who had done the breaking. The man pulled Oryan’s arm from his side, and lifted Oryan’s shirt as he reached into the sleeve of his own garment. He pulled out a small container. He slipped two fingers in and when he pulled them away, a clear sweet-smelling gel was on them. He rubbed the gel onto Oryan’s chest where the bruises and the cracked ribs were.

  “This will take a moment to set in,” he said.

  Soon, Oryan’s breathing become easier. The ribs released their pressure and settled back into place. The black bruise that had a moment before existed, was now a pale shade of yellow, the look of a two-week old injury nearly fully healed.

  Sitting upright, still staring in disbelief at his chest, he asked again. “Who are you?”

  The man smiled as he placed the container back into his sleeve. “My name is Sicari Tudjaso. You have questions. I have answers. There’s a lot you need to know. Perhaps, things would be better explained at my home.”

  Posturing

  “We’ve got a quarter-million men in Vollmar territories and twice that on Vollmar’s mainland,” Doran Balsa spoke to Lucius Kovac. “That leaves a half-million more to defend our shores. With that kind of force, we still missed this invasion coming? How in the hell did they wind up here uncontested?”

  Kovac kept his calm exterior despite the badgering of the Counselor. His fingers steepled in front of his coal black eyes. “It would appear that Lord Tamrus is not the amateur strategist you all took him for. I told you not to underestimate him.”

  “Don’t try and turn this around, General. This is a complete embarrassment. The war’s been going poorly since Jeckstadt’s death. It’s taken everything I have to keep the people from rioting in the streets. The Emperor hasn’t made that any easier.”

  “Three months ago, when you and I met, you assured me everything was in hand. Less than a month later, Vollmar was here.”

  “Are you questioning my leadership?” Kovac asked.

  “You’re damn right I am. From where I sit, the only thing you’ve done right since the inception was recruit Jeckstadt. If anyone were to ask, I’d tell them I thought you were intentionally losing.”

  “And you think you can do better?” Kovac retorted.

  “I think your best days are behind you. I’m not afraid of you, General Kovac. In a few minutes, I address the Council. I’m going to call for your resignation.”

  Kovac dropped his hands to his knees. “Perhaps you’re right, Counselor.”

  Balsa raised an eyebrow. Kovac was many things, but humble wasn’t one of them.

  “I’m an old war horse,” Kovac admitted with a sigh. “The Warlord, may he rest in peace, was a more fitting warrior for our time. If you feel the Empire would be better served by my removal, you should carry out your plan. If the rest of the Council agrees, then I have no doubt the Emperor will accept my resignation. I hope you have a suitable replacement in mind.”

  “I have a few names, yes.” Balsa wasn’t about to let Kovac give him advice on his choices, so he left that statement as ambiguous as possible.

  “Fascinating what a conflict does, isn’t it?” Lucius mused. “Men live and die. Countries, like the armies they build, rise and fall. Fortunes are made and lost. Destinies are forged.

  “Look at me. Once, the most feared and respected military commander in the world defeated by a celebrity soldier and politics. After everything I’ve been through, I’m finally defeated by an adversary I can’t even swing back at. That seems tragic and poetic all at the same time.”

  Balsa cocked his head. Kovac, who normally was so intimidating, seemed weak and frail. What an unfair time to keep pressing the General. After all, he had served admirably for three decades. “It’s not as though you’ll be destitute and on the street. You’ve earned a retirement fit for a king.”

  “I’ll never retire, Counselor.” Kovac turned his nose up at the idea. “I’m sure there will be a place in the new regime for an old war horse. If memory serves, you’d only just been appointed to your post when this war began. Remind me again how you managed to gain a seat at the Emperor’s table.”

  “Just lucky, I guess.” Balsa rolled his eyes.

  Kovac snorted. “Luck has nothing to do with it. You’ve got friends. Everyone knows that. But, it takes more than friends to do what you’ve done, so I give credit where credit is due. You’ve taken an opportunity and run with it.

  “The people favor you now, Mr. Balsa.” Kovac conceded. “As low as I’ve fallen, you’ve risen. This war has elevated you beyond anything you could have accomplished without it.”

  “I suppose.” Balsa shrugged.

  “It’s too bad we live in an Empire and not a democracy like Vollmar. You’d have a legitimate shot at the big chair,” Kovac smirked.

  Balsa returned the smile. “I’m comfortable with the chair I’m in.”

  “Oh, no you’re not,” Kovac’s face returned to stone. His tone dipped low and menacing. “Don’t lie to yourself and, more importantly, don’t lie to me. I’m a powerful man and I know powerful men when I
see them. If you could, you’d boil Navarro in his own blood to take his place.”

  Balsa shot a harsh gaze at Kovac. Kovac was searching for weakness in Balsa, trying to use his lifeless eyes to strip away the life of another and see their soft underbelly. Balsa wasn’t giving an inch. He looked right back at the General, showing him the strength of his resolve and his lack of fear.

  “General, you can save your posturing for someone else. I’m not the reason you’ve fallen out of favor, and I’m certainly not going to be the one who throws you a lifeline.”

  “I don’t need your pity or anyone else’s,” Kovac snapped defiantly.

  “Then why are we having this conversation?”

  The emotion disappeared from Kovac’s face. “You asked for it.”

  “I asked you here for an update on the war. I was hoping you’d at least try and salvage what little is left of your reputation. Instead, I get a commander who seems ready to throw in the towel on himself and all our boys who are fighting and dying because of his mistakes.” Balsa grew, diminishing even the mountain that was Lucius Kovac.

  The corner of Kovac’s mouth turned up slightly. “There he is!” He clapped mockingly. “There’s the man who’s won the heart of the people. That’s why you are where you are, Counselor. It’s about time there was more of that.”

  “Then why don’t you do it?” Balsa shook his head.

  “My time is over. Soon, I’ll be nothing more than a puppet, played on the strings of others—maybe even yours. I know this and I accept it.

  “No matter what happens, I’m tied to this war, especially if it goes poorly. I’m the face of the Emperor’s military, and I’ll wind up hanging right beside him.”

  Balsa scowled at Kovac. “You’re not suggesting…”

  Kovac raised a hand. “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m stating the facts as I see them. You make a living on knowing how to lie with snakes and not get bitten. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard the grumblings.”

  Balsa stared blankly in silence. There was a look of anger but also of acknowledgement on his face. There had been rumors within the Council, whispers of removing the Emperor and suing for peace with Vollmar before the Empire burned. It was dangerous even as a rumor. The Paladin had locked people in cells with no windows for less.

  “I can’t stoke that flame, but you can. No matter how much you and I disagree, I see potential in you. In order to survive, the Empire needs a new direction, and that won’t happen with a leader clinging to traditions that benefit only him. It’s time they learned that the sun doesn’t rise and fall by the Emperor, but by the Empire.” Altruistic patriotism resonated in Kovac’s voice.

  Balsa’s next words had to be chosen carefully. Kovac was a founding member of the Paladin and knew how to squeeze a confession without asking for it. “You’re right about one thing. I know how to handle snakes. This is a morbid conversation,” Balsa said defiantly. “I’ve got a Council to address and a resignation to call for. Have a good day, General.”

  Balsa stood and walked to the door. Before he could leave, Kovac offered an unsolicited piece of advice. “It’s not me who’s failing the Empire. It’s not the military, either.”

  Balsa looked at him incredulously.

  “I’m not implying it’s you, either, Counselor. The failure here is a military operation in the hands of a politician. The failure here is Navarro. He’s put handcuffs on me since Akon. His hesitation to let the full might of our military loose since Jeckstadt’s death, has cost us everything. Remember that when you choose my replacement.”

  Balsa didn’t respond but took the words to heart. He shut the door behind him and walked down the hall to the Council Chamber. Just before the doors, he smoothed out his clothing and ran his palms over his black hair. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

  What lay beyond was an entirely different conflict. Three hundred men with three hundred different motivations and ambitions were in there. Somehow, someway, he had to convince three hundred men who couldn’t agree on the color of grass to take his side. Getting the Emperor to go along with the resignation of Lucius Kovac would take an almost unanimous vote from the Council.

  Now Balsa had another matter to consider. One that made obtaining the resignation of the General seem like a gentle bump in the road. Navarro was the problem. Kovac might be an accessory, but the heart of the problem was an Emperor holding onto power he gained through archaic tradition. In the end, Vollmar wasn’t winning because their military was superior. They were winning because Tamrus achieved his command through consent. The people of Vollmar didn’t resent his rule. They chose it, and that was power.

  Kovac was right about Navarro, and he was right about one more thing. Doran Balsa had the support of the people. With another heavy sigh, he pushed open the doors to the chamber. The volume level rose to a dull roar, and he began shaking hands and patting shoulders.

  Critical minutes passed. This was his last chance to gain votes in his favor. Everything could come down to the right kind of smile to the right person at the right time. His every step was calculated as he approached the podium.

  Once there, the noise fell to a dreadful silence. He soaked it in and allowed himself to settle into the grave moment. There were heavy choices to be made. He bowed his head ever so lightly and dropped his shoulders an inch to show the weight pressing on him. The grin from moments ago, gave way to a solemn expression. He could even feel his eyes fill with fatigue.

  When he felt the correct version of Balsa was present, he spoke. “Gentleman, we have a difficult choice before us. The outcome of which is bigger than one man or even the millions of people in this great land. This choice is for nothing less than the soul of Navarus.”

  Facing the Demons

  The pair did not leave immediately. Sicari was more than willing to help Oryan finish the work he had begun on his former home. Together, they cleared most of the scattered debris. They piled and burned the lumber not used, along with any other remnants that would still burn. Razor wire and other material unaffected by fire were buried.

  Sicari worked with a zeal and fervor that simply amazed Oryan. He did not seem to have need of rest, nor did even the hardest labor deter him.

  The wolf stayed faithfully by Oryan’s side. The animal never seemed to mind having a third party around.

  The work that would have taken Oryan days to complete, was done before the sun began to sink. When the pair finished, a new world had sprung up around them. They had meticulously labored to bring in flowers and sapling trees to the landscape. Where a once desolate and barren waste existed, a vibrant garden now flourished.

  Oryan lamented not having a before and after image. He wiped the dirt from his hands and feeling that he had accomplished a work of true good, he resolved to move on.

  “If only my home looked as regal as this place.” Sicari admired their surroundings. “A more fitting monument, your father could never have asked for.”

  Oryan nodded in agreement. He was no longer disturbed by the man’s knowledge of him or his life. “I think it’s time for me to leave,” he said after a long pause.

  Sicari turned to him and smiled. “Let’s be on our way.”

  “If you’re from around here, we’re not going the same direction. I appreciate the help, Sicari…whoever you are, but this is where it ends.” Oryan shouldered his pack with what little supplies he had left and patted his thigh. The wolf happily trotted to his side and they set out westward to leave this Quarter in search of another.

  “You won’t find her that way,” Sicari said.

  Oryan turned, marching hard at Sicari. His hands were clenched into tight fists. “Who are you? Enough with your riddles. Why are you here and what do you want with me?”

  Sicari sighed. “Corvus was right. You’re not ready.”

  “Ready for what?” Oryan threw up his hands. “You show up out of nowhere telling me you know my father, and you know what I’m after. I don’t care who you are or wh
o you knew, but you’re wasting my time. I have…” His anger subsided. Even if Sicari knew who he was looking for, he wasn’t about to volunteer the information. “I have things to do.”

  “Yes, I know. You have to scour the Empire to find her,” Sicari said with an antagonizing tinge in his inflection. “If you succeed, son of Armay, what do you hope to accomplish? You’ll tear down the walls of a Slave Quarter, rescue her, and then what? You and her on the run forever?”

  “If that’s what it takes.” Oryan looked at the ground.

  “Your father risked everything for Kathrine, but he didn’t do it because it’s what he wanted. Armay tried to create a new world for her and for you. You want Elesya back because you’ve got nothing left and you’re clinging to her memory to keep yourself from drowning.

  “Even if you find her, you’ll be taking her from certain death in the Quarter to nearly-certain death with you. Do you think that’s what she wants?”

  He wanted to scream at Sicari, to tell him he was wrong and to leave, but he couldn’t find the strength. His brain was trying so feverishly to articulate his anger, he could barely hear Sicari speak above the pounding of his heart in his ears.

  “You’ve been down this road before, Oryan. You know exactly where it leads but now, you want to bring her along with you. Do you love her?”

  “Of course I do!” he snapped.

  “Ok.” Sicari raised his hands up. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to push you. I’m just trying to tell you there’s a better way.”

  Oryan’s shoulders dropped slightly and his heart slowed. “And you have this better way?” he asked quietly.

  “I do,” Sicari replied. “It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it.”

  “I have to save her,” Oryan’s eyes were rimmed with tears. “Can you do that?”

  “You can’t save someone unless you save yourself first. I can give you the tools. The rest is up to you.

  “If you want to do this, I want you to go in with your eyes open. There’s no time frame on this. It could be weeks, it could be years. I can only promise you that, when it’s over, you’ll do more than save her. You’ll be worthy of her.”