Children of the Prime Box Set

by T. C. Edge

  "Yes, well..."

  "Don't feel too bad, young man," she goes on swiftly. "Ares is the greatest champion ever to have competed in the Imperial Games of Neorome, the Warrior Race as the locals call it. He's had plenty of experience of such fights."

  Her words are intended, perhaps, as a subtle threat. Neorome. This new alliance. Surely, Ares's presence here, if what she says is true, is a clear sign that they are working together. That they may even have a large military presence here. And if that's the case, maybe they do have more men than we thought. A lot more, perhaps.

  "Well, that explains it then," Kovas manages, after a short pause. "Unfortunately for you, this isn't some gladiatorial contest. It is war. And it would seem that you have nothing interesting to say on the matter."

  "You don't find me interesting," says Lady Orlando. "I am insulted, Herald Kovas. I find you awfully interesting. This meeting has been most...enlightening."

  I can see, now, the clear concern in the others' eyes, Lady Dianna and the Overseer in particular. The latter takes a step towards Kovas, quickly attracting his attention. He holds his shoulder, and looks into his eyes. The way they look at one another suggests that they're communicating telepathically, not wishing to discuss private matters in front of the enemy.

  However, I think it's clear enough what the Overseer will be saying.

  "We're not learning anything here, and she's playing you like a fiddle. I suggest we return to the camp immediately, before you make even more of a fool of yourself."

  Well, he probably won't be putting it exactly like that, but it'll certainly be the gist.

  I see Kovas's face beginning to redden, his teeth grinding. He's smart enough, at least, to realise that there's nothing more to be gained here.

  Turning back to Lady Orlando, he manages to compose himself, nodding.

  "I can see that you are unwilling to enter into any form of sensible negotiation," he says, voice simmering. "That leaves us no choice but to bring our full force to bear. When we topple your regime, and your city, your people will have only you to thank..."

  "Oh, they will thank me, Herald Kovas. For leading them, once more, to victory."

  With a snarl, and a shake of the arm to get moving, Kovas turns and begins marching off. I stand a moment, looking at the assembled leadership group ahead of us, still passively watching on. If they have any concerns, which they surely do, they aren't showing it. It is a combined poker face, and a good one. And whether this was all just one clever bluff or not, they certainly managed to get under Kovas's skin.

  I begin moving, following behind as Kovas marches quickly off into the distance, speeding back towards the safety of his camp. The others follow, Dianna and the Overseer in quiet conversation as they go, reflecting perhaps on what happened, Elian's robes now displaying their full glow, showing his own aggravation, perhaps, at the insults and offence shown to Olympus and the Prime.

  I continue after them, before stopping suddenly, a voice coming from behind.

  "Amber," it says.

  My pulse jumps, my body freezing.

  "That's your name, isn't it?"

  Slowly, I turn, and find the eyes of Lady Orlando upon me. "How...how do you know my name?" I ask, my armour starting to glow again. A rising tide of anxiety, of unease, builds up within me.

  "Oh, we know a lot about you," she says, managing a smile. "Your powers are quite something, aren't they? They must be difficult to control."

  I frown, my eyes flashing on the others, all looking at me. And the young telepath, Brie, right there to one side. Her eyes aren't so intense now. There's something a little warmer, more inviting, there.

  Is this another bluff, I think quickly. They've seen me glow, they know what Fire Elementals like me can do. Is this just more posturing, or do they really know who I am?

  "I..." I don't know what to say. I can't react, can't open my mouth, can't give anything away.

  She's trying to cede doubt in you, Amber, a voice says inside me. Don't fall for it!

  The old lady's eyes rise up again, looking over my shoulder. I turn to find that Elian has stopped, noticing my absence. He's looking at me intensely, his voice calling my name on the wind.

  "You'd better go," comes the voice behind me again.

  I glance back to find her smiling once more.

  "Slaves get beaten when they don't comply," she says softly. Her eyes glance back to Haven, away in the distance. "There are no slaves here. Only good, innocent people."

  The words stick with me, drawing out the concerns I've had. Concerns about killing innocent people. Concerns about what it will do to my soul.

  "Amber!" calls Elian again. "Come on, let's go!"

  The figures ahead of me stand still, all looking at me, as if politely waiting for me to depart. I hesitate a second, as if wanting to stay, wanting to find out more.

  But I can't.

  I know I can't.

  And as I begin to turn, so do they, each moving our separate ways across the plains.

  99

  Our return to camp isn't the triumphant show that, perhaps, the soldiers might have expected.

  The hope must have been that we'd go out there and return with the keys to the city in our hands. That the Havenites simply cannot cope with this aerial punishment anymore, and have decided that they have no power of their own to counter our strength and military prowess. That they will accede to Herald Kovas's demands, and allow him to take control of the city, assimilating the remaining Haven military forces into our own, a subsidiary army to be utilised when needed.

  Whether realistic or not, they probably hoped for something more than they got: a hugely disgruntled Kovas marching through the wall, a litany of slightly disturbed looking Heralds and Chosen following behind, and an unconscious giant being dragged in right after. The sight of Atlas, considered all but indomitable, being hauled by a bunch of men through the gate in the wall is, perhaps, the most unsettling sight of all.

  And for those Farsights who'd been able to watch the bout from the top of the bastion, a shocking sight to see. One that will, no doubt, now begin to spread through the camp, much as Kovas would prefer it not to.

  I know that from the manner in which our esteemed leader orders us to gather together, immediately demanding that we join him in the command centre as we return. I see him passing on an order to the Overseer too, who then moves off to speak with the soldiers who'd come with us onto the plains, perhaps to tell them not to speak a word of this around camp, or else actively erase such memories from their minds.

  Either way, I fear, Kovas won't be able to hide it.

  As we move to the command room, taking seats to discuss the meeting, Herald Kovas storms in, clears his throat, and then addresses us all as one.

  "We have what we wanted," he says, those words alone, as well as his sudden demeanour, suggesting he's trying to put a positive spin on it. "They think they got the best of us, and perhaps that's how it might appear to some, but the reality is the opposite. This will work for us, I assure you all."

  The room goes silent. Eyes glance around, unsure.

  Strangely enough, and perhaps a sure sign of their continued cooperation, it's Lady Dianna who breaks the quiet, calmly offering words that, unexpectedly, back Kovas up.

  "I...agree," she says, eyes swaying around the room. "We learned a lot from the exchange, and that can only be useful. The simple fact that they have a Neoroman with them, and as part of their leadership, suggests that they have many more."

  "Or...it could be a bluff," I find myself saying, ever keen to look at things from all angles. "Like, he's there to make it seem like they have many more Neoroman soldiers. Maybe as a way to deter us. And...we saw how powerful he was, right?"

  "No more powerful than others among our ranks," says Kovas, perhaps a little blinkered to the truth. "Atlas was just a bad match for him..."

  "But, he is the greatest champion Neorome has ever had," I say, toning my voice appropriately so as not to be too di
sagreeable. "He only seemed to show a hint of his power."

  "I don't disagree with you, Amber," Kovas says, staying somehow in control. "However, those are just gladiatorial games, as I said out there. His strength lies in the arena. In war, perhaps he isn't so potent as they'd have us believe."

  "Indeed," says Dianna, taking up the reins, showing some solidarity. "It may have been part of their bluff to have him there. To suggest, perhaps, that they have many of his sort. I could see Lady Orlando's eyes lighting up at the prospect of a fight, something to show off this Neoroman's powers..."

  "Yes that's...that's why I did it," coughs Kovas, looking around the room. He's not convincing anyone.

  "What Amber says, therefore, may very well be true," Dianna continues, easing into a more prominent position of leadership with her growing tact. She probably feels, I suspect, that being more compliant and agreeable around Kovas will help her direct his own thoughts a little, act as a sort of leader-by-proxy. Or, at least, have more influence on proceedings. "It would make sense, given how they behaved. A show of strength to make us think twice. A 'bluff', as Amber put it."

  "And what about the prisoner?" I ask, my mind working fast. "Do they know anything that could corroborate things either way?"

  Kovas lifts his chin, pensive. "It's possible," he says, "though we've got little out of him regarding specific troop numbers and movements. We are fairly certain, however, that we hold the far greater force, regardless as to whether there are any Neoroman soldiers stationed here."

  "The alliance is in its fledgling state," suggests Herald Avon, his eyes working towards the door as the Overseer makes his way in to join us. "We can certainly expect a smallish standing force to help provide protection for the city while it's in a state of vulnerability. However, I suspect we are talking hundreds, if that, rather than thousands, as we possess. Add that to what we know, and can fully confirm, and I hold little fear for what happened out there today."

  "Posturing," agrees Dianna. "They came out with a clear plan and executed it perfectly. For that I say, 'well played'. However, it should not distract us, or deter us, from our plans. Our strategy should, I feel, continue on as it's been going. They have set out to show a strong front, but in reality, it merely highlights their weaknesses."

  Her eyes spin towards the Overseer, who stands to one side, watching proceedings. She nods at him, as if asking for his input. Seeing it, Kovas asks as well, though verbally, making sure he stays in charge.

  "Master Overseer," he says. " What are your thoughts on this?"

  "I am," the Overseer says, slowly and deliberately, "in agreement with what has been said. I managed to get a glimpse into their intentions, as you asked for me to do, Herald Kovas. Behind the facades, there was concern, and a great deal of it. Though their minds were well protected and prepared for any proper excavation on my part, they couldn't hide their emotions from me, especially when things got a little...tense."

  And here was me thinking we weren't meant to be using our powers, I think. It doesn't surprise me that a little bit of gamesmanship was used. It's quite possible they did just the same.

  "As far as I could ascertain," the Overseer goes on, "they are weaker than they're making out."

  "And their intentions?" queries Kovas.

  "To stay behind their walls," comes a swift reply. "To show strength that they don't have. That is what I believe, at least for now. What their end game is, I do not know."

  Kovas nods sagely, displaying a little more maturity in his leadership. "She is a smart woman, that Lady Orlando," he says, "and has played a good hand. Her insults were grave, and we shall repay them in kind, eventually, but I suspect her goal was merely to cause a stir in me. I admit that, perhaps, she got a little under my skin. However," he says, clearing his throat, "what has transpired can be considered a success. They may think the same on their side, and that is their right, but from our point of view, little is going to change. We continue as before. Our strategy is working."

  As I continue to wonder just what that strategy is, beyond bombing the hell out of them, and hoping for a reaction, Kovas turns to Avon, grunting an order.

  "Herald Avon, return to your post, and resume the bombardment immediately. Make sure our flanks are being watched closely at all times, and double the guard at the wall. They may probe with a little more purpose, thinking us distracted, or in order to continue this charade, and display a strength they do not have. Prepare for a larger raid somewhere on our flanks."

  He turns to Herald Gailen, hovering to the side as usual.

  "Herald Gailen, I want you ready at all times to add your considerable heft to proceedings, should they attack. The same," he goes on, turning to Elian, and then me, "goes for you two. Lighten up your training workload a little. We need you well rested should you be required to fight."

  I see Elian nod, and do so myself. I feel the pull of his words, and the situation, begin to draw me in, blocking out what Lady Orlando said to me.

  What was it again?

  'There are no slaves here. Only good, innocent people...'

  The words come back to mind, yet I work to quickly dismiss their importance. She must have seen something in me, some weakness perhaps. Just a young girl drawn into this fight, too immature to truly grasp its importance, too young to be able to kill without feeling the strain of it all, the regret it will lead to.

  Well, in some ways she must have seen right through me. The killing of innocent people isn't what I want to do. And it isn't something I'm going to do either. No, innocence can only be applied to civilians in this case. I am here to fight, and kill, soldiers and nothing more.

  I firm up my conviction at that, knowing the intention was only to sway me. Perhaps they know the power I possess, know just what I can do when truly unleashed. Really, I see it only as an insult. A dismissal.

  Look at this girl. She's weak. She's wavering. We can use her to create a rift.

  Not on my life, I think with a grumble.

  The meeting concludes there, everyone hurrying off with a fresh purpose, their resolve somehow strengthened by the entire affair. Only Atlas, perhaps, will come out of it feeling foolish for how easily he was overcome. I'm certain, when he's armoured up and fully weaponised, leading his men to battle, he'll seek out some measure of revenge.

  The sun continues to set a pleasant hue to the air as we step outside, Elian and I set to go and train now that regular service has resumed. Already, the humming and whistling and exploding has started back up again, the energy cannons put right back into service. They will continue to weaken various parts of the city, working to destroy large sections of the walls so that we'll have easy access when we want to. Getting into Inner Haven, of course, will be another matter, one I'm hoping Kovas has a plan for.

  It's odd, almost, that I have greater faith that that's the case now. With everyone working in unison, he appears to have the support he needs to make more assured decisions.

  "OK, light session then, as Kovas said," says Elian, as we press off through the camp, working towards the south, the workers encampment coming into view not too far away. Things as they are, I suspect that the slaves won't be expected to head out beyond the shielded perimeter so much. Especially, if what Kovas says is true, the Havenites commit to a slighter larger raid at some point during the evening, or in those to come.

  Jude, of course, is now safely tucked in there somewhere, seeing to some menial task that won't inspire him, but will keep him safe. It's the best I can ask for, really, though far less than he deserves.

  We work, then, through the camp, and towards the perimeter fence at the rear. News, it would appear, has already begun to spread of the meeting upon the open plains, talk of Atlas's beating already tickling a few tongues. Try as Kovas might to hide it, there's little he can do to stop such gossip spreading, especially with so many loose-lipped Farsights up there on the wall, watching it all from afar.

  It'll likely get a few people worried, but really it shouldn't.
We were all pretty much in agreement in the command centre about what it all means, whether there is any negative significance to the manner in which Lady Orlando spoke, and Ares acted. I can see little more than posturing, as Dianna called it. A move to try to destabilise us, confuse us, when they are very much on the back foot.

  If anything, the soldiers in camp should look upon it as a positive. And really, hearing of their Chosen Titan being beaten so soundly will never have the same impact as hearing of Perses's death. That was grave news, and sent the troops into a spin for a time. This is nothing more than a poor match up, a physical bout that went the wrong way. It should in no way transfer to the battlefield itself, nor have any impact upon the outcome of this conflict.

  I hope.

  We stop at the gate for a little while, waiting for a cohort of lookouts to appear. Hestia, as ever, is chief among them, hurrying quicker than her usual, churlish manner would allow. The reasoning is pretty obvious. She's eager to get a first hand account - or two - of what really happened.

  With a number of other soldiers around, however, we can't speak too candidly, though several other requests for information lead Elian into a brief description of events.

  He does so with the proper sense, making sure to spin the story in the right way. One of the Farsights among our troop of lookouts, however, just happens to be one who'd seen it all from up on the wall, now seemingly off duty and eager to come watch us train, and perhaps get a bit more info at the same time.

  "But, what about the fight with Master Atlas, sir," he says, clearly noting how Elian leaves that particular bit out. His eyes light as he looks to the others. "He was knocked out cold in a single blow," he says, his voice carrying that excited, awestruck intonation. "I'd never have thought anyone could do that. Maybe not even Perses..."

  The others look to Elian.

  "Is it true?" they ask. "Did that really happen?"