by Sharon Green
"As if we had a choice," Meerk muttered in answer, then he struggled to put a smile on his face. "But you're absolutely right, Tamrissa, so don't mind me. Someone must have chosen me as designated pessimist of the group while I wasn't looking, and now I can't resign from the position. When do the five of you plan to start?"
"I think we all ought to have some tea first," Jovvi suggested immediately before anyone could say something else. "I know I need a cup, and the longer we wait, the less alert those people will be. It's certain to be a very long night, so let's get as comfortable as possible before we begin it."
Everyone was enthusiastic in their support of that idea, but when a search for Lidris began, it was discovered that the man had anticipated the request. A large quantity of tea was already steeping, so it wasn't long before they all had refreshments. There had been many tins of small cakes among the stores in the convoy, and Lidris had brought along a number of the tins, which he opened to go with the tea. They all had their snack, took turns in the comfort facilities of the house, then were ready to begin.
The Blending entity, already knowing the general layout of the stockade, went directly to the room where the one called commandant had been the last time. The flesh form was still there, only now there were no others in the room with him. The remnants of a meal sat abandoned on a tray to one side of the man's desk, and the man himself sat with feet stretched out and a cup of tea in his hands. His thoughts were tinged with satisfaction, and the entity found itself curious.
—Something fills you with satisfaction,—the entity put once it had the man in its control.—What would that something be?—
"I've taken the opportunity to teach that wretch Sord some manners," the man replied, a smile curving his thick lips. "I had him put to the question rather harshly, and even though I learned nothing, there will be no repercussions from any of his—acquaintances. The emergency we are now in the midst of will excuse whatever was done."
—Why do you loathe the man so?—the entity inquired, still curious.—What has he done to deserve your hatred?—
"He presumes, and the fool who fathered him has once or twice supported the bastard," the man returned, a snarl now twisting his pudgy face. "For that reason Sord comes and goes just as he pleases, laughing all the while and thinking that I don't dare oppose him. His sire may not come to his rescue, but then again, he might. Uncertainty has stayed my hand until now, but the commands of the Five have freed me to do what should have been done long ago."
—And what commands are those?—the entity put next, dismissing the unimportant point about the man Sord. —What information have you been given, and what were you told to do about it?—
"I've been officially informed that dangerous fugitives are in this area," the man replied promptly. "They somehow managed to ambush more than thirty guardsmen who were following them from Gan Garee, and it's thought that they may well try to free the segments I still have here in camp. The miscreants also ambushed the convoy 1 was expecting and stole the segments that are so badly needed at the front. My men and 1 are ordered to destroy them utterly, and when reinforcements arrive I'm to get the remaining segments sent on their way—under guard—as quickly as possible."
—More than thirty guardsmen,—the entity mused.—Was the number put just that way? And just how dangerous are the dangerous fugitives?—
"Yes, the number was put that way," the man responded, now sounding faintly annoyed. "That's enough, I think, to make anyone nervous. And we were told that they were very dangerous, so they're not to be given the chance to pretend to surrender. We're to destroy them utterly, but preferably leave enough to send back to Gan Garee as proof of their death. But if a choice has to be made, complete destruction is the top priority."
—So if you were told that the number of the guardsmen killed was more like one hundred than thirty, that might affect your eagerness to face the fugitives?—the entity asked, pursuing its line of curiosity—What of your men? Would they feel the same?—
"If they ever learned that a hundred guardsmen were killed rather than thirty, half of them would probably desert," the man said with a snort of ridicule. "They're mostly Low talents with a smattering of Middles, after all, so what else would you expect? I, myself, would ride out with my personal guard to meet and warn the contingent coming from Gan Garee, and as soon as my back was turned I would lose half the men now here. But since the number isn't a hundred, I won't be turning my back and my men won't be deserting."
—No, not yet,—the entity agreed, filing the information away for use at another time—Now you may explain why the ... segments are so vitally important at what you called the front. What is a front, and why is there a rush to get the segments there?—
"You don't know much, do you?" the man replied, now openly sneering. "I, personally make it my business to know everything I need to, which any superlative leader would do. The front is where the fighting is going on in Astinda, and the segments are desperately needed because the fighting is suddenly going against us. Those backward fools in Astinda seem to have found a way to counter our attacks, which has stopped our advance rather abruptly. We can't afford to let that continue, of course, so a massive counterthrust is being called for—before those in Gan Garee find out what's happening. Our noble superiors aren't known for their patience with failure, but they won't learn the truth from me. I would love to be promoted to the place now occupied by those at the front, but not while they're losing."
—Only someone capable of turning the loss around would think differently,—the entity commented, then got on with the primary reason for its being there.—You will now supply the keying phrase used on your captives, and will also detail whatever orders they've already been given. After that you will suggest the best way to get all those captives mounted and out of here.—
"But they can't be mounted and gotten out of here," the man protested with a small laugh of incredulity. "If my men see them trying to leave, they'll attack at once. The segments have been forbidden to harm anyone here, so they won't be able to defend themselves. The keying phrase is, 'I am in command,' but no one but me can use it—unless I'm officially replaced by someone else, and then only that someone else will be able to use it. The segments know well enough who is and isn't in command, and they won't accept orders from someone not authorized to issue them."
—The solution to that dilemma is simple,—the entity remarked, distantly scornful of the feeble attempt to circumvent its desires.—You will now visit those segments and secretly free them, with this entity accompanying you. In the meantime you will consider the best way to secure mounts for the captives, and will suggest that best way as soon as all are free. You may begin right now.—
The man promptly put aside his teacup and got to his feet, then headed out of the room. Once they had left the man's aide behind in the reception room beyond his own, the entity had the man explain where the "front" was in more precise terms. The man did so, falling silent at any time someone else would have been able to hear him, and at last they reached the first of the groups of captives.
"You will hear me and obey, for I am in command," the man said clearly to the captives once his own men had been sent away. "You will not be bound by any previous orders given you, and after this final command, you will never obey the orders of others against your will again. As you understand, you may now comply."
The five people all began to speak at once, as though they had just come out of a trance of some sort, and the entity touched and calmed them. It promised to explain all once everyone else had also been freed, and ordered the five to remain where they were until then, pretending that nothing had changed. The captives had been arranged into a link-group, of course, and their agreement was filled with confusion but nevertheless unwavering. They would do as they'd been asked, at least for a short while.
The same scene was repeated over and over again, until more than sixty captives had been freed. A large dining hall wa
s designated by the stockade's commandant as the best meeting place for their purpose, so all the former captives were gathered together there. Most of them had had the chance to think over—and to some extent talk over—what their situation was, and when the last of their number arrived, a slender man with elegant mannerisms stepped forward.
"Whoever you are, are you able to hear me?" he asked, looking about as though expecting to see the entity. "Can you show yourself to us?"
—Becoming visible is act presently possible,—the entity responded, sending the words to everyone there.—This entity is a Blending of a five, and it stands ready to assist you. You will all require mounts, and then complete freedom will have been returned to you. From here our flesh forms go to free others of our own who have also been enslaved, and all of you are welcome to accompany us.—
"I believe I speak for all of us when I say we would be delighted to accompany you," the slender man responded, looking about himself to see the nods of many of the others. "There is, however, one thing we must do first. The time we spent here has been an agony of humiliation and pain, for those about us knew we were helpless to defend ourselves against any despicable act they cared to offer. First we will give thanks for that... hospitality, then we will be truly free to join you."
The roar of agreement arising from all those minds nearly staggered the entity with its intensity, then they all began to stream out of the meeting hall. The entity attempted to stop them, attempted to speak reason and caution, but their fury became a shield of sorts, shutting out everything but what they wished to hear. Astonished by its helplessness, the entity hovered in the now-empty room a moment, then hastily followed the throng. A terrible premonition had come to the entity, and it had to find some way to avert what promised to be disaster.. . !
Forty
But averting disaster proved to be impossible. The captives, freed at last from the confines of their own minds, streamed out across the stockade in their link-groups. The military men, already alerted against attack from without, suddenly found themselves under attack from within. A military link-group in Fire magic attempted to defend itself with a wall of fire, but a thicker, heavier wall of flames consumed theirs and left them shocked and shaken. Then all five crumbled to dust which sifted to the ground, mute proof that a link-group in Water magic had made certain that that particular military link-group would never perform again.
All around the entity it was attack and counterattack, with the former captives as the stronger force. The entity found itself hoping that that would end the battle with the former captives as the victors, but it—and they—had forgotten how many more military men there were. Sixty High practitioners against a like force of Lows and Middles would certainly have prevailed, but against three hundred and fifty Lows and Middles...
The surprise of the attack brought the former captives quick successes, but then the tide began to turn. More and more of the military men entered the fray, with screams and shouts and raging and cursing coming from all directions. People staggered as Earth magic raged inside their bodies, and with their dying efforts they took the air from the nearest group of enemies. Some blistered or burned or turned to charred ash; some drowned or turned to dust; some gasped for air or choked on some fetid stench held around their heads; some were pelted by flying stones or had their hearts stop beating; and some lost interest in the battle and in defending themselves. These last were under attack by those with Spirit magic, and in losing interest they also lost their lives.
The entity, usually so dispassionate, felt a definite sense of malaise. It had naturally expected to join in the battle, but the former captives fought with such savagery that they brought the same out in the military groups. This produced physical fighting as well as talent battle, and in many places the two factions flowed together, one group almost indistinguishable from the other.
And the power that was being used! The source of power was like a limitless ocean, and even the entity took little more than a comparative cupful. But those doing battle were, in multiple groups, using it more by the bucketful. The whirling agitation in the power caused an odd humming to force its way into the entity's awareness, something of a staticlike lightning, which threatened to interfere with the entity's own use of the power.
That, of course, was a more-than-serious situation, therefore the entity strove to balance itself in the midst of the storm. Its help was needed by the former captives, but any attempt to interfere now would most likely destroy friend along with enemy. Balance and control... balance and control... the second was impossible without the first. In the midst of chaos the entity fought its own silent battle, and then ... just a hint...
But a hint which showed the way to the answer. Once again it lay in those woven patterns its flesh forms had been taught, and now only the proper pattern was needed. The entity flashed blindingly fast from one pattern to another, until the proper one was discovered. A complex pattern to be sure, but one which returned both balance and control. The entity wove it about itself, then looked around—
Only to let forth a voiceless wail of horror! Most of the former captives were dead, and even as it watched, the remaining few link-groups were in the midst of being overwhelmed. The entity had come to help the captives, and instead had stood uselessly by and watched them being destroyed! Dispassionate the entity had always been, but suddenly it experienced the taste of rage....
And with that rage came action. The storm of power still lingered in the surrounding air like a thick flurry of leaves during a violent rainstorm. The entity captured that power and added it to what power it was able to draw for itself, then sent the combination sheeting over the military groups which had begun to shout in delighted victory. There was still almost a third of its original force left, but only until their shouts turned to screams. And then only echoes of those screams were left, as the living beings who had produced them disappeared completely....
The entity looked about itself with grim pleasure, weary but satisfied with what it had wrought....
And then it was me back to myself again as Jovvi dissolved the Blending. If I hadn't already been sitting down I would certainly have staggered and then fallen, but not from exhaustion. If I hadn't been in shock I would have been violently sick to my stomach, and Jovvi's muffled sob said she felt exactly the same. Lorand and Rion looked pale with a like illness, and even Valiant was clearly shaken.
"What's wrong?" Alsin Meerk asked as soon as he realized that we were no longer Blended. "Weren't you able to get through to the captives? What took so long? Will we have to go into the stockade after all? What—"
"Stop!" Valiant ordered with one hand raised, not quite able to look at the man. "Stop askin' all those questions. We got the captives free of the orders holdin' them, but they refused to leave until they got some of their own back from the ones who had held them captive. We couldn't stop them, and the battle turned into somethin' ... horrifyin'. Our entity got tossed around like a feather in a high wind, and by the time it was able to stabilize itself—All the captives are dead, and we accounted for all the link-groups they didn't."
Exclamations of shock and dismay came from the people around us, and even Alsin had gone pale.
"They're all dead?" he asked in a whisper, his expression showing how difficult it was for him to accept that truth. "We came here and risked ourselves for nothing?"
"We came here and risked ourselves to give them freedom," I corrected harshly, helpless to keep the words back. "What they chose to do with it was their decision, but—I hate what it did to us. Am I the only one who feels... twisted?"
"Hardly," Rion responded first, the others adding their own agreement. "I considered the emotionlessness of our entity a disquieting thing—until it ceased to be that. The simple memory of its rage is almost more than I can bear."
"It was a conglomeration and combination and magnification of our own natural anger and distress," Jovvi said, sounding more weary than
the rest of us. "Knowing what being angry feels like lets us control the emotion, but the entity is like a child in its level of experience. That terrible storm of power ripped through its protective shield of emotionlessness, and that caused it to lose control."
"Only over its own feelings," Lorand pointed out after taking a deep breath. "It was in complete control of everything else, proven by the fact that those military men just ... disappeared. And this time it wasn't in a blaze of fire."
"I had the feelin' it used everythin' at once," Valiant said, pushing both hands through his long, pale hair. "The last time it let one or another of our aspects dominate, but this time it blended them all. Or Blended them. Is it just learnin' what it's all about, or has it taken the wrong branch down a dark road?"
When we heard that question we all looked at Jovvi, but she gave each of us a glance and then made a sound of ridicule.
"Since I was right there along with the rest of you, how do you expect me to know when you don't?" she asked, obviously struggling to sound reasonable. "Right now we probably know more about Blending entities than anyone else alive—with the possible exception of the so-called Seated Five—and we know almost nothing. Do we have any choice other than to simply go along, learning by doing? If we do I'd like to hear about it, but right now we have another question to answer: where do we go and what do we do next?"
"With this small a force, what can we do?" Alsin asked, more wounded than scornful. "And if things got this badly out of hand here, won't it be worse if we come across an even larger installation?"
"I'm for goin' to that 'front,' " Valiant said, suddenly sitting straighter in his chair. "That's where Pagin Holter and his people have to be, and maybe even your friend Hat, Lorand. Meerk is right in sayin' we don't have a large enough force to do anythin' meaningful, and if we don't get one we might as well wait here and let them kill us. This time there are two hundred guardsmen after us. Next time they'll make it five hundred or more."