I looked at the long plank tables with stacks of varying weapons on them, a question on my face. He looked at his clipboard then me and shrugged as he supplied, “Not much of any use, except the exceptional hunting bows, a few fishing spears, and an abundance of hunting knives. These people are not equipped for war.”
I started walking along the tables, and he followed behind me and to the left. I still cannot get used to being a higher rank than any knight in Sparo and having anyone on my left. I picked up a rake and a hoe, the implements were finely crafted. Everything that the Cristea made was created like a work of love and art.
I noted the two gypsy women helping the big man organize the weapons looking almost embarrassed. What did they have to be embarrassed by? I envied them, not needing to have any implements of war. If only all cultures were as peaceful.
I grabbed a double bladed wood axe from a pile and held it up to examine. I mused out loud so the women could hear as I tasted the metal with my senses. “Good quality steel, finely honed. The hardwood handle is dense and stout, I've never seen this grain before... yet another wonder of the Westlands. All in all, a good weapon with good reach, I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of a blow by one. It would be a fine weapon to use in battle.”
The Knight looked over as the women smiled at each other and stood a little taller, then down at me. His eyes narrowed, and he gave me a toothy smile. His stark white teeth an extreme contrast to his dark skin. He knew I was bolstering their confidence.
I paused at the bows, they were formed like Alexandru's in that smaller backward curved manner. Though more compact, I knew they were more powerful and accurate than the longbows favored by the archers of the Altii.
I said in a low tone to him, “And I most certainly wouldn't wish to be struck by an arrow from one of these, Sir...” I left it a question, I felt terrible that I couldn't remember all the names of every knight on the mission.
He stood at attention. “Haun, Lady Sora.”
I had to grin at him using both the titles of the Altii and the People, and asked, “Covering all bases, Haun?”
This got him to relax and smile again. I assured him, “Just Laney, or if you insist on titles, then Sora on this mission.”
Hell's Gate was the most isolated of the Lower Ten, even more so than New World, as it was across the great Burning Desert. As such, they were almost a culture apart from the rest of the Altii and didn't adhere to protocol as tightly as some realms. This alone told me he was going out of his way to be polite to me.
He inclined his head and smiled disarmingly. “As the Sora wishes.”
I grinned, just what we needed, another Alexandru charming his way into people's hearts with his winning smile and ruggedly handsome looks. I knew what he was doing. I shook a finger at him which seemed to amuse him.
We shared a chuckle and then went on with our inspection. Some of the tools there I had no idea what they were for. I assumed that they were brought to the makeshift armory tables because they could be hefted like a club.
I paused at one lone item and almost snorted as I lifted it to examine the marble rolling pin. I cocked an eyebrow at Haun, and he beamed as he said for all to hear, “My gran chased me from the kitchens on many occasions with one. Don't discount the wallop they can deliver.”
I was picturing this tall, wiry man as a gangly child full of mischief, pilfering cookies and being chased out by his grandmother wielding the rolling pin of doom. I capitulated, “Fair enough.”
I tried not to show my disappointment when we got to the last of the stacks. With the exception of the hunting knives and axes for close combat and the spears and bows for ranged combat, there really wasn't anything that would give an enemy pause. I stopped as I saw a scabbard on the pile of discarded useless items and moved quickly to it.
Another blade!
I should have taken note of the almost sad and resigned look on Haun's face as I grabbed the ornate scabbard in one hand and the hilt in the other and started to draw the ancient blade, mist falling from me in sheets in my excitement. Three inches of pitted and rusted blade pulled from the scabbard, and no more. The blade had been broken. I looked in the scabbard, and the rest of the blade was not there.
I stared at the finely crafted hilt that our modern weapon smiths would be hard tasked to match, and I mourned for the blade. I wondered where all the swords had gone, surely more than two made the journey.
One of the women stepped forward as if she anticipated my question. “Besides the blade of Mother Racina, all weapons and unnecessary metal items were melted down to help build Journey's End and Aratreya until mines could be established to supply us metals.”
She smiled at the hilt I held. “That is the blade of my ancestor, Crystal, she was a Femeie de Sabie of the Cristea.”
I whispered in awe at the small portion of the blade I could see, it was just as finely crafted as Home Sword had been. “It is a great honor to look upon what remains.”
I urged some Techromancer power into the metal, rivulets of amber energy rolled down my arm to my hand, and we looked as the years rolled off the steel, it left a bright and honed steel behind, and I could make out the intricate etching on it. I just wished I could do something about the pitting. But not even magic could replace material that had been lost, only a blacksmith could do that.
I offered it to her. “This history does not belong here. Cherish this, and remember Crystal, it is a warrior’s due.”
She bowed slightly, and I laid it across both hands she stretched out, her chest puffed up with pride. I looked at the scabbard which had been cared for all these centuries, then looked toward Journey's End. I asked, “May I have the scabbard? The Sabie Acasa of Mother Racina needs a proper sheath.”
Her eyes widened, and I saw how young she was under the maturity of living under siege and being used as slave labor had forced upon her. I marveled at how strong these people were to have lived through five years of this, I wondered if I had it inside of me to endure such a thing.
She nodded, and I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you. Your name so that Sora Elaineia knows who gifted such a fine piece of history worthy of her blade?”
She blinked in shock and the other woman offered with a smirk on her face for her friend, “Tammeran.”
I inclined my head. “Tammeran.” Then I excused myself, getting a little bow from Haun that made me roll my eyes and chuckled as I pushed his shoulder.
Then I was in search of Elaine. She would be with Corrine and Celeste. I said into the air of Haun, “He could be your brother he's so sure of himself, Dru.” I heard him chuckling and followed the sound to see him sitting on the roof of a nearby cottage. That man.
I caught up with the women at the great table inside Journey's End. Bex had joined them and was doing something to the radio. I hesitated, and he looked up, his freckled face smiling as he explained. “It stopped working, ran out of power. When we went looking for a capacitor or spark containment ceramic, we found chemical reaction packs. How wasteful. They'd have to replace them frequently and throw out the others unless they had some way to reverse the reaction.
He hooked up some wires to the radio from the lever he had mounted on his armor to charge his shocking gauntlet and PET, his portable electric torch. He pulled the lever a few times, and I could hear the dynamo spinning and taste the electricity in the capacitor as it charged.
Then with a hiss and crackling of static, the garbled voices came back to life. He smiled in triumph then gleeped as Celeste took the radio from him and pulled him along on the wires as she winked suggestively at me. I bit my lower lip in want, this was not the place to get aroused.
Elaine asked, “Are they always like this?” A chorus of, “Worse,” came in response.
I shoved the scabbard into the snarky Sora's hands and said with my nose in the air. “Use this for Sabie Acasa – a gift from Tammeran.”
She looked at the scabbard then me and a smile slowly spread on her face as she
started taking the old flaking scabbard from her hip. I added, “It too is from the Exodus.”
We watched as she slid the thin blade into the new scabbard, it hilted well. Then she lashed it to her hip. It was a more fitting sheath for such a historic blade. I could taste my magic in the steel calling out to the world, seeking out resonant magik.
I turned when the radio started crackling to life. Stein's voice came out, strained by self-control, but I could hear the subtle undertones of anger. “Well played, Celeste. You're good, but I warn you, I'm better. I was the commander who sacked two of the four Outlands, but none are as oil-rich as this one.”
Celeste pulled the radio up to her mouth then lowered it a moment, her brow creased in thought, then she raised it again and pressed both the talk button and his buttons with her smooth, “Thank you. Just two? That's quaint.”
She gave me a bullfrog look, bulged eyes and cheeks as she shrugged and lowered the radio, causing me to smile. I could picture the man turning red as he tried to keep himself under control. He was being played so subtly I don't think he realized it.
Finally, he responded, “I'll take no pleasure in your death, you would have made a good ally. Rest assured, I've gotten the names of all the men involved in taking Cristea women to their beds, and all will be reprimanded and punished to the extent of our laws, so your death will not have gone in vain. It truly is a reprehensible act that I do not take lightly. We are more civilized than that.”
She responded with a chuckle, “And do not worry about your own death, I will be dragging you alive, kicking and screaming back to Sparo to meet out our justice. Any Avaloninas left alive will be free to flee back to your people to let them know what has transpired and inform them that the Westlands are free.”
She looked at the silent radio and sighed as she put it on her hip while the rest of us anxiously awaited his response. She looked around and said, “What? He won't respond now, not until one of us calls for battle.” Then her eyes widened a bit, and she lifted the radio again and pressed the button. “Sleep well Commander, for tomorrow we shall dance.” She grinned at that and placed the box on her hip, dragging a yelping Bex along with her by the wires as she slipped up beside me.
I cocked an eyebrow, and she shrugged. “What? I read that line in one of those fiction tomes your mother reads.”
My eyes widened as I blurted, “The graphic love stories?”
She blushed and shook her head, looking around almost apologetically to everyone who was suddenly much more interested in what we were saying. “No, you little brat, the other ones, the mysteries.”
Everyone looked amused, and she said more forcefully to them, making them divert her eyes, “The mystery tomes.”
I nodded sagely and agreed, “Of course.” I winked at Elaine, and my girl grumped at her, “I don't know why I put up with her.”
The Cristea Sora looked beyond amused at our antics as she chuckled out, “I'd say because you love her?”
Celeste nodded in contemplation as she pulled me into a headlock to ruffle my hair. “That must be it.” Then she released my squeaking self and sobered. “And I do.” Ok, how can I put her on my smiting list after saying that with such certainty and conviction?
I felt like hopping around and basking in the truth of the statement, but we had more serious things to attend at that moment.
She grinned. “It seems our good Commander Stein is now back in his base and being informed of knights swooping in from above, freeing the people at the mines and the tar pit. He'll be cautious and send out scouts to Lupei at nightfall to determine our numbers there. We'll keep all indoors so they cannot get a head count, and the Falcon will hover over the village until sunrise before falling back, keeping them guessing.”
I lifted a finger. “And that is when you will challenge the Commander to singular combat.”
She nodded. “He'll bring his forces as we will bring ours to witness. I doubt he will actually accept singular combat. Though oddly I do see the man as having his own twisted honor, he will be more secure pitting his people and equipment against ours. His confidence in their superiority over our capabilities is clear.”
Then Sarafine picked up the thread. “And in case his belief proves true, the battle will give time for the rest of Aratreya to evacuate to the caves.”
Verna crossed her arms across her chest as she moved beside us. “Not the best plan, but of all our options it has the best chance of success. I'd feel more secure if we had time to bring a few battalions from Sparo, but if wishes were fishes...” The muscular woman shrugged.
She glared at Celeste who glared back. Ver was upset that she and Bowyn were left here to command the handful of knights that would stay to guard Aratreya while the others flew off to war. But it was a fair draw of straws – so I'm told. Though I wasn't included in the draw. Some lame excuse that since Celeste and I were in charge of the expedition, one of us had to stay behind, and since Celeste was the more adept fighter...
I didn't trust the draw as far as I could throw my wife, as Verna and Bowyn were the two knights here she most trusted my life with. Shenanigans had to have been afoot in that draw.
Verna pointed at me and mouthed, “Your fault.”
I snatched at her finger which she pulled away before I could grab it. I vied to take the higher ground and maturely stuck my tongue out at the woman.
She grinned and looked away.
I win.
Everyone went about finishing preparations as Bex took off with the first load of people and supplies to the caves with the Outrider and Condor. For the rest of the daylight hours, the airships returned, again and again, ferrying the most vulnerable.
On the last trip, I had to pull Misty and Ingr aside, Jace there to back me. “Baby girl, I have to ask you to swear to me as Templar of the Junior Regiment, that you will not attempt to return to Aratreya until someone sends for you. I'm depending upon you to keep the other children calm. You have gone through many evacuations and hiding drills in Wexbury, but none of these children are prepared for the realities of war. They will need someone to look to show them. ”
She almost growled at me, “That's playing dirty, mom.”
I cocked my head, and she exhaled a petulant, “Fiiine. I swear it.”
I smiled broadly at her then pulled her into a tight hug. I schooled my emotions, knowing this would be the last time I saw my daughter.
I told her with all the confidence a mother can possess, “I am so very proud of you, Misty, and I love you more than I can ever say.”
She started squirming in my hug and whispered, “Mooom, you're scaring me.”
Then she stilled and whispered in the voice of Misty Cobbler, the tiny girl I met so many years ago, instead of the overconfident tone of Templar Misty, “Love you too mom.”
I think she was picking up on something from me and she hugged me almost desperately.
I put one arm out, and Ingr jumped in, and I hugged her as well. “Love you too, little healer. Be good, keep Misty in line.”
The enthusiastic gypsy girl nodded. “Will do aunt Laney. Love you bunches.”
I finally released them and held a hand out, Jace stepped up and took my arm. I ruffled his hair as I looked him up and down. He looked so much like Corrick the Woodcutter now, he was going to be a fine man. I just hoped I did good by him, raising him with mom the best I could in Cheap Quarter. I said, “Take care of the girls, love you, little brother.”
He gave me a quick hug and complained, “I'll try sis, but they are a handful.” He hesitated and then said, “Love you too, sis. Don't worry, everything will turn out just fine.”
I was so very proud of him, I hoped he knew that.
I exhaled slowly and smiled, trying not to cry. “Of course it will. Now get going you three. Say your goodbyes and get on the Outrider before Bex has my hide.”
They all gave me one last look then scurried off to mob my wife and the rest of our Greva. Jace took a moment to grasp forearms with Verna
and Bowyn, acting more a squire every day. I knew it wouldn't be long before Sir Tennison claimed him for the task.
We saw them off at the airships, then headed back to Journey's End to what tasks were left to complete. I found it almost sad that we were so efficient at all of this war planning. Nobody should be good at it.
One by one they gave their soul,
That others may live, and the stained did boil.
It was after the sparse last meal, where the conversation was subdued, and Bex returned with the Outrider, that the gravity of the situation seemed to be sinking in with the people of the Village. Most retired to their cottages early, thinking perhaps it would be the last time they slept in their own beds.
Angelus walked up to us as we spoke with Sylvia and Corrine. “Soras, a hot bath has been drawn for you.”
I perked up at that.
By the Three Sisters, we needed that. We had been getting a little ripe in our leathers, and I wanted some time to clean up and be with the woman I loved before Father Sol shed his light upon us one more time. When Elaine asked if we wanted a bath drawn, it was all I could do to prevent myself from yelling out, “Yes!” And doing a happy dance.
Celeste had chuckled at my restraint, and inclined her head to our fellow Sora and said graciously, “That would be divine, Elaine, thank you.” Fine, that was a better response than mine would have been.
We bid our leave from the others, offered first watch after we cleaned up, then made our way through a twisting path through the wagons on the first level, counting as we went. Elaineia had said five over and two in.
Lamps with dimming magic sparks which I hadn't passed by when playing with the children, flared to life as we ghosted past, tendrils of my mists reaching out to them and sinking in. We stepped into a larger room that was built in the gap between three wagons, there were six copper tubs in two rows, all gleaming and pristine, with not a bit of oxidation or telltale signs of green verdigris on them.
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