by Robert Brady
But I didn’t, and clearly Aniquen knew how I felt about this.
“Then by all means,” I said to him, “engage me again.”
Sea Wolves were faster, tougher, more heavily armed and if their magic wasn’t to the level of a Tech Ship, they were immune to most of what a Tech Ship could do to them.
“We could,” Aniquen said, “or we could stop all of this, which is why I am here.”
I laughed. “Angron Aurelias wants to talk peace, and he sent you?” I scoffed at him.
“Since your daughter slew the Heir,” Aniquen countered, “I was the only Uman-Chi who dared face you.”
That came as a surprise. When I’d met him, Ancenon was the Heir to the Trenboni throne. For his association with me, and because I dumped a lot of gold on another Uman-Chi named Avek Noir, he had become both Heir, and my spy in Trenbon.
I was informed that he’d faced Duke Tartan Stowe in the Battle of the Vice in Eldador, and then betrayed his oath to me.
I wasn’t aware that Lee had killed him for it. I knew they’d lost a caster trying to capture her, but I didn’t know it was him.
I doubt that Avek Noir would have dared to be in the same room as I, if he were still alive, and I was certain that Angron wouldn’t.
I tried to keep a poker face but I doubt that I pulled it off.
“OK,” I said to him.
“Talk terms.”
Aniquen held out a hand to one of his Uman lackeys, who put a leather tube into it. The Uman-Chi made big deal of spilling out the single role of parchment from the tube into his hand, handed back the empty tube, and unrolled the scroll.
I don’t think that there was anything that the Uman-Chi did without some sort of ceremony attached to it.
He read:
To: His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Rancor Mordetur, of Eldador and its Surrounding Territories, conquered and otherwise:
From: His Majesty, Angron Aurelias, King of Trenbon and the Silent Isle.
In the Name and the Recognition of the Fovean High Council
Sir,
You are hereby advised and requested to stop forthwith the advance of your armies and your illegal absorption of the lands of Volkhydro, Andoron and Dorkan. Further, you are required to remove your armies, as they are, and to quit these lands, and to return to your natural lands, which are and have been recognized to be the lands called Eldador, Angador and the Black Lake and Wisex.
In return, the Fovean High Council will, for now and all future intentions, regard the actions of the year 97 of the Fovean High Council to be settled, in full and without prejudice, and then require no recompense, no reparations and no further actions for or against your Empire, your Imperium or your self.
He went on to list who it was signed by, being a bunch of representatives of the Fovean High Council, with the exception of mine, who knew better than to go there anymore.
In a nutshell, I could go home and they’d let me keep what I took, most likely because they had no idea what I’d taken, what I’d done with it, or what it would be if I gave it back.
“That’s a pretty stupid request you have there, Aniquen,” I informed him. “I expected better from a King who’s nearly 1,000 years old.”
Aniquen regarded me, rolling up the scroll. I was pretty sure I hadn’t said anything to him that he didn’t expect. Not only was he not born yesterday, he wasn’t born in this age.
“You understand, we’re duty bound to ask for those lands back,” he said. “The Volkhydran King is particularly adamant that he wants his capitol city back.”
I nodded. “Not going to happen,” I said. In fact, that was the one city that they had a chance of retaking, except that it would require the Confluni working with the Volkhydran army, and that simply wasn’t going to happen. If the Confluni marched out of their forest onto the plains around Lupha, I’d be more likely to get the Volkhydrans to fight alongside me against them.
Of course, that was exactly my strategy, and I had emissaries in Volkhydran cities setting up a mutual protection agreement for just that.
“So what do you really want?” I asked him. It had to be pretty good, seeing as it wasn’t what they had written down.
Aniquen put the scroll back in the tube, handed the tube to the Uman lackey, and the Uman lackey handed it over to Grak. He snapped his fingers and a padded chair appeared behind him and, without looking, he sat his butt down on it.
I guess we were down to brass tacks.
“We’ve looked at the difficulty of dislodging you from your stolen cities,” he informed me. “No one wants to fight those fights, not even the Dorkans, who swear they could conscript an army larger than yours if they had to.”
I had a lot of Dorkans among the Wolf Soldiers. They weren’t the best troops.
I waited.
“What if we let you keep these cities, and recognized them for Eldador?” he asked. “Would that encourage you not to press for more?”
Wow, I thought. That was even dumber. If I was going to keep what I had, why wouldn’t I go for more?
Why wouldn’t I just promise not to move forward and do it anyway? I’d already done that once.
“What would you give me, to do that?” I asked him.
His eyebrows rose. “You would keep what you have,” he informed me.
“But you see, Sirrah,” I countered, “I already have that. You’re telling me to keep what you can’t take, in exchange for not taking what you can’t protect.”
Sirrah was a term that Uman-Chi reserved for people who felt they should be treated with respect, but who didn’t in fact deserve it.
“You’re saying that you do, indeed, plan to press for more?” he asked me. I couldn’t tell if he was making sure or if he was simply incredulous, though I could believe either one.
“I’m saying that you don’t have any chance of getting back what I’ve taken,” I told him, “and your allowing for that doesn’t incentivize me to change whatever plans I have made.”
It took him a moment to absorb that.
I’d been speaking languages such as Uman-Chi now for more than a decade. When I first came here, if I didn’t know a language, all I had to do was to touch my sword. Something happened to my brain, and I could understand it and I could speak it.
That even worked on languages that no one spoke anymore, like Cheyak.
I’d learned over time to simply speak those languages on my own and, by listening to the native speakers, pick up bigger words less commonly used. Uman-Chi, predictably, was filled with nuance. By telling Aniquen that he wasn’t incentivizing me, I actually told him both that I wasn’t getting anything from the deal, and that I felt entitled to something.
He’d probably never argued from a position where he didn’t consider himself or at least his people to have the upper hand. This territory was completely uncharted for him.
“I think that the more you push the people of Fovea,” he said, finally, “the more you will find them like a trapped animal, and less like another gladiator in your arena.”
“And I believe,” I countered, “that you’re being Uman-Chi makes you think that all of those people are the same, and they’re not. Every Fovean nation is filled with different people, with different goals, different needs, and different limits.
“If they have anything in common,” I finished, “it’s that they don’t like your people.”
Aniquen stood stiffly. He’d learned a lot in his time here, I was sure, and had insights now that he needed to share with his King. He bowed and excused himself. I had him followed by a few trusted men until he embarked on his Tech Ship.
They left with the outgoing tide.
Three of my Sea Wolves followed them out. When they were a day out, as the sun was setting, all three were sunk without warning.
I guess Angron Aurelias was going to have to go shopping for another Heir.
Chapter Five
The Forgotten Son
I did the best thing that I could possibly do in And
oron – I got the hell out of there.
I spent the 9th and the 10th arranging for 17,000 troops to move via Sea Wolves down the Safe River to Wisex. Wisex would be warmer in the winter months and could sustain the overage of people without having to ration the population. We had too many horses to support anywhere else and, since the Drifters and the Wet Bellies had given way to my Wolf Riders, we actually had control of a really large herd of cattle and a lot of graze. There were wide-scale plantings we could tap into, and anyone would think that I was putting these troops out of harm’s way, but close enough to support either city, if need be.
I took the Bitch of Eldador back to the capitol and arrived in port to a tremendous fanfare at dusk on the 15th of Order. The entire first Millennium and, of course, my beautiful Empress, Chawnee in her arms, greeted me and held back a crowd that packed the port back through the market place.
I looked for my other kids but I didn’t see them. That came as a surprise. I expected Vulpe might need some time to himself, but Lee should have been here and wasn’t.
The ship pulled in and I was the first over the gang plank. Shela flew into my arms. Chawnee was huge based on the last time I’d seen her, and immediately pummeled me with her tiny fists.
“When your wizards informed me you were returning, I made a proclamation for the city,” she told me between kisses. “Galnesh Eldador has been celebrating ever since.”
I smiled and kissed her deep for the crowd. They loved her – she was a beautiful empress and she wasn’t afraid to use her magic and her influence to help them when she could. I waited for Blizzard to be unloaded, and then walked him to the end of the pier.
There Shela had her favorite gelding waiting for her, and mounted it side saddle. I cocked an eyebrow – when an Andaron woman mounts side saddle, it usually means she’s pregnant. Shela just shook her head and informed me that this was more befitting an empress.
We rode with our Wolf Soldier escort through the city to the central palace. I had to admit it, it was good to be home. There’s just something about the place where your family lives.
People threw pieces of paper in the air with my name written on it. They shouted, “He returns!” and “He conquers!” We had to let some, especially the more important nobles and their families, come knock on my armor – a symbol for good luck to a warrior.
It both passed too quickly and took forever. Chawnee always did better in the evening – her Andaron name meant ‘Angry at the Sun.’ She waved at the people and they waved back. With a mouth full of teeth now, she was developing her mother’s distinct smile.
Inside the palace, we went right to the stables and unhorsed. A groomsman took care of Shela’s gelding and I put Blizzard up myself, as I usually did.
I couldn’t help noticing the scars on him. He’d had a tough time of it – a lesser animal wouldn’t have lived this long. War has always been hell on horses, who are simply a bigger threat and a bigger target during combat. His barding had spared him a lot of abuse, but he’d seen his share.
He nuzzled me as I brushed his mane, which I’d let grow long again.
“You’re back for the winter months?” Shela asked me, finally.
I nodded. “Have you heard from the kids?”
She sighed. “I’ve heard of them. They returned, both of them. Vulpe has a new sword from Arath, and our daughter has pledged her troth to Duke Tartan Stowe.”
I actually dropped my currying brush. “What?”
Shela just nodded.
“He’s married,” I said. I’d set the marriage up myself.
“Yeral died,” Shela countered. “On the second day of Law – an accident with one of Blizzard’s untamable ones.”
Just like Yeral to try one of those crazy horses – probably the biggest stallion in the group. We credited Yeral with the Angadorian breed that made their knights so devastating.
“Short period of morning,” I said.
“They’re planning to wait a year,” Shela said. However he is back in Angador, and she has gone to Volkhydro.”
I picked up the currying brush. I had it on good authority that Eric went to Volkhydro when he left Charancor with Nina, his half-sisters and Nantar’s daughters, once I realized they hadn’t gone back to the Long Manes.
After the Battle of the Foveans, I’d sent Nina to look for Raven and Karl Henekhson. She’d lost them in the north of Volkhydro.
Jack, as well, had fled for northern Volkhydro with Vedeen, the Druid who’d turned coat on us and on our enemies as well.
That was not good. Jack and Raven were from my home world. They had knowledge that I didn’t want shared among my enemies, and I didn’t want them influencing people who were close to me, like my kids.
The fact that I had so many still freaked me out.
“Shela, we need Karel of Stone to get here as fast as we can,” I said. “In fact, can you get in touch with Ancenon and gather the whole Free Legion?”
She nodded. “Dilvesh and D’gattis have already done their part to repair Central Communications,” she added, and when I opened my mouth she cut me off with, “and they have taken precautions against another outside assault on it from Angron or anyone else. The Uman-Chi is in Luparran now, setting up a communication station there. We have another already in Lupha.”
I could get word back to Andoron to get Thorn back here easily enough – we had a direct gateway to our tower in Charancor. Someone as famous as Thorn wouldn’t be hard to find.
I’d been worried about this. How many kings in the past had gone out on campaign and come back to a nation in chaos without them. I might not be there yet, but in fact, on Fovea, that month was coming.
***
I spent an entire week doing empire house-cleaning, and was only done that fast because Tartan Stowe was so fastidious in keeping his records. Apparently he and J’her, my Supreme Commander of the Wolf Soldier Pack, had been at each others’ throats. I also had the opportunity to have a sit down with my newest Duke, Hectaro Gelgelden.
He’d picked my daughter up over his shoulder when Angron Aurelias had come to capture her, and he’d jumped into a void with her. That void had taken them to Conflu, and he’d helped keep her alive until they finally came home.
He’d changed. He was taller, straighter, and a lot burlier than I’d remembered him. He didn’t have his father’s widow’s peak and gaunt frame, he was stockier and more like me. We even dressed the same, in leather pants and boots and white homespun shirt. His father went in for the latest fashions, but Hectaro had no time for it.
We met at Hectar’s grave. Hectaro had commissioned a monument for him, and I offered to pay for it.
“You’re generous,” the young Duke informed me, “but my duchy doesn’t want for gold.”
“Then you’re the only duchy,” I informed him. The invasion by Conflu had done real damage to the center of my nation, which was where most of my food came from. The harvest had begun and it was a travesty.
We’d also found that, if we didn’t protect Tartan Stowe’s merchant ships with our Sea Wolves, they were being sunk by Tech Ships on their way here from Sental. Apparently Angron Aurelias was under no delusions as to what had happened to his latest Heir.
Hectaro chuckled to himself. Then he looked me in the eye.
“You know I didn’t save Lee,” he said to me, finally.
Just like his dad. Straight to the point.
“How did she do?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I nearly lost her half a dozen times,” he said, finally. “We were captured by a type of Scitai that live in Conflu, and by the Confluni princess that you turned down for marriage. She used her magic to feed us, to hide us, and to fight. She defeated another, more experienced sorceress.”
I’d have wished that Shela was here, except that he’d already gone over their travels hour-by-hour with her. Apparently Lee’s patron god was Earth, and it was a good relationship.
When we raised the platform for Wisex from the bottom of the
Black Lake, Lee had participated in the spell. We should have known.
“She actually raised a volcano?” I asked him. Shela had found that pretty difficult to believe.
He nodded. “Nearly killed ourselves running down a mountain from it,” he informed me.
“And now she’s in Volkhydro?”
He went quiet.
I put my hand on his shoulder. “You campaign with someone,” I said to him. “You go on an adventure, and you rely on each other. You develop a special kind of relationship – I completely understand that.
“But you are Duke Hectaro Gelgeldin, and you are vassal to me,” I said. I waited for him to raise his head and look me in the eye.
“What is she doing in Volkhydro?”
Hectaro sighed, but he wouldn’t look away. He knew how important his father’s council had been to me. He knew what he owed me, in his father’s name.
“She’s aware of the rest of your children,” he said, finally. “When we came back here, from Andoron, she communed with a Druid who’d helped to guide her when we were lost.”
“Vedeen?” I asked.
He nodded. “You know her?”
“I tried to put her to death.”
He smiled. “Well, you owe her your daughter’s life, and mine, if that matters to you,” he said. “Vedeen directed us out of the void and back to this land. We’d have been lost forever, without Vedeen.”
I noted that, but I wasn’t sure yet if it changed my mind. She’d dumped them in the heartland of my worst enemies.
“There is this prophecy, more of a song,” Hectaro said.
“About a hero and a wolf and war?” I said.
He nodded. “You can hear the words, but you can’t repeat them, at least I can’t,” he said. “They speak of six weapons that can be born against the One, once the war is lost.”