“I won’t,” David promised, absorbed by the scenes playing out in front of him. For a while he was content to listen to the melodic, flowing language. Then he gasped. “I understand what they’re saying. How is that possible?”
“The crystal helps, but so does your Voice. You’ll find most languages hold no secrets to you.”
He dared not breathe as the scenes played out. He did not even notice that they had entered the small room and were ascending. When they stepped back into the corridor, the crystal went dark. He blinked as his gaze returned to the cavern surrounding them, then reluctantly slid it into his pocket.
“Good. Now come. You must leave shortly, and I have gifts for all of you.”
“Gifts?”
“Mostly words, but some weapons might also come in handy,” she said with a half-smile, handing him a thick bracelet.
“What’s this?”
“It’s called a Sheimlek-dar—the Whisper-slaying arrow.”
He examined it with curious fingers. “How does it work?”
“You’ll find out when the time’s right. In the meantime, always keep it on you.”
The bracelet was made of a matte silver-like metal, warm to the touch. Ornate carvings covered it, forming words of blessing in an unfamiliar language that somehow he could read. A blue gem lay at its centre, dull and lifeless. He slipped it on his wrist and jolted as it hissed and pulsed, embracing his flesh. “Is that …”
“That’s normal. It bonded with you. Now, come.”
He followed her outside like a duckling following its mother, his fingers exploring the bracelet.
Petria
September 33, Parad
Parad was not a heavy sleeper, but he still found it hard to wake up when a guard shook him gently. He cracked open a sleepy eye to see a silhouette hovering above him in the dimly-lit room.
“Lieutenant Tang to see you, sir,” the soldier said before slipping away.
Parad yawned and peeked outside the window. All was dark; they still had a few hours till dawn. He rubbed his eyes as Tang pushed the door open and rushed into the room.
“They’re back,” Tang blurted out.
Within a second, Parad was fully awake. “Gella?”
“Injured,” Tang said. “Nothing serious,” he hastened to add, turning his face away to hide a half-smile.
“Send her in immediately,” Parad ordered. “And wipe that grin from your face before I do it for you.”
Tang’s face was expressionless as he bolted out of the room. Parad barely had time to splash some water on his face before the guard showed Gella in.
Crusted mud covered her from top to bottom. When she saluted him, a few stray leaves flew from hair and landed on the floor.
She’s fine. He let out an almost audible breath of relief. “Thank you, you may leave,” Parad said. The guard saluted and closed the door behind him. As soon as they heard the soft click of the door, they rushed into each other’s arms.
“I was so worried,” he said, kissing her muddy lips.
“Me too,” she jested. Then her face turned serious. “I have much to tell you. But first, a shower?”
He motioned her towards the bathroom, and watched her slip out of her mud-covered clothes and into the steaming water. The smell of citrus and lavender filled the small room. Where did she get the soap?
“I love this thing,” she said, nodding at the showerhead. She splashed him with hot water.
He noticed a dirty bandage around her arm but resisted the urge to ask her about it. Instead, he sat down on the floor and waited until she exited the shower. He handed her his robe as she kneeled beside him and planted a soft, moist kiss on his lips, dripping warm water all over him. His emotions took over and he clutched his arms around her. To his surprise, she was just as passionate as him, and they soon found themselves in bed.
When they were finally spent, they lay still, catching their breath. In their passion the bandage had slipped from her arm, revealing a red wound. Hasty stitches pulled the edges together. He traced them with tender fingers and pursed his lips. It will probably leave a scar.
“I wouldn’t mind giving all my reports like that,” she sighed contentedly.
He grinned, she giggled, and soon they were both laughing with relief, fear, and joy. They had both lost too much; it felt good to have each other.
He stroked her short hair, still moist from the shower. “Now, will you tell me what happened?”
She paused for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts. “We went up and down the river, as you said. We spotted a great place to cross. Riders can use it, too. Once across, we ran into a herd of buffalo. We lost a lot of time circling around them. The sun had risen by then, so we hid until dusk.”
Gella combed her hair with her fingers. “We scouted the area as best as we could. The place crawls with patrols. You were right, they’ve got quite an army there. I’m guessing they have three times as many men as us, plus cavalry. They’re hiding inside a fortified ridge with a narrow entrance; that must be their base. I couldn’t see any way in except for the main gate.”
Her face darkened. “We were heading back when one of their patrols spotted us. We killed them and took their horses, but I lost two of my men and had no choice but to return; everyone’d be looking for us. We came back over the bridge.”
He stared at her, startled. “The bridge?”
“They watch it closely, like you said, but they didn’t expect anyone crossing our way.” A half-smile tugged at her lips. “Wasn’t hard to break through. We rode straight here.”
He pointed at her arm. “That happened on the bridge?”
She waved dismissively. “It’s just a scratch.”
“Good,” he said, hoping his face did not betray his worry. “I want you to show me on the map the locations you mentioned. I have an idea.”
The sun had risen by the time they put the finishing touches to their plan. They had a unique opportunity to rout the Loyalists once and for all, but it would be a huge gamble. “As my father used to say, ‘your plans must be impenetrable to the enemy and executed like a thunderbolt,’ ” he quoted, as if hoping to invoke the old man’s blessing. Could three hundred years of warfare really be close to an end?
She grabbed her clothes and dressed, all fired up and eager for the battle.
Her excitement brought a smile to his lips. “It’s obvious you’re a Scorpion,” he teased her.
A cloud passed before her eyes. “Don’t joke about it.”
His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She kept quiet for a while, avoiding his questioning gaze. “Do you know anything about life in Scorpio?”
“Not really, only that it’s supposed to be very tough. Scorpio oversees the western peninsula.”
“Oversees …” She smirked. “Yes, that’s one way of putting it. The cities there are little more than vassals. They pay taxes to Scorpio; life’s very hard for them. There are frequent uprisings, because people are often left with next to nothing. Scorpions don’t believe in weakness, you see. All that matters is your ability to carry on your duty. They leave any child born ill-formed in the wild for a week. If it survives, it’s accepted back; if not, no one mourns it.”
He had heard the stories, of course, but had not believed them. Until now. His gaped at her in shock. “That’s awful.”
She raised her slender shoulders. “Those that die may be the lucky ones. When a child turns seven, it’s taken to live in the barracks. After ten years of the hardest training you can imagine, it becomes a human weapon. At the age of eighteen, a Scorpion is ready to graduate into the army. This is done with great fanfare, all new soldiers participating in the graduation ceremony. However, choosing who will graduate is done by voting. If you fail to collect enough votes, you are exiled.”
“Is that what happened to you?”
“Yes. The group commander accused me of stealing. I hadn’t, yet they found the evidence in my lock
er. I was disgraced. When too few voted for me, I thought my life was over.” She grabbed her boots and stared at the muddy laces as if they held some deeper meaning. “I even considered ending it,” she murmured. “But then I realized this is exactly what she wanted.”
“She? You know who did this to you?”
“I have my suspicions. I vowed to survive, came to the Capital. I joined the academy. By the way, you guys really suck at war, you know.”
He threw a pillow at her and she laughed, avoiding it with ease.
“You have to understand what life’s like in Scorpio,” she continued. “After graduating, a Scorpion’s still on probation. They live in the barracks and can only visit their family for a few days at a time. Women are considered full citizens and have the right to a household when they turn twenty, but men have to wait an extra decade. That way, they can fight undistracted.”
That’s madness! A wave of pity hit him. He fought the desire to take her in his arms, knowing any sign of sympathy would only infuriate her. “I’m reminded of that old joke,” he said instead. “Scorpions are so ready to sacrifice their life in battle only because their life is so unbearable.”
She chortled at this.
He loved her easy laughter, and told her so.
She turned serious. “One thing life’s taught me, is it can end any moment. I’ve learnt to enjoy it while it lasts.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.”
She gave him that playful smile he loved so much. “You’re swearing at me now?”
“Just something my father used to say. He loved the old languages. It means, ‘enjoy each day, place no faith in tomorrow.’ ”
“Your father was a wise man,” she said with a grin. Then her brow furrowed. “About your plan. You think it’ll work?”
His shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. “It’s all we’ve got. As my father always said, ‘when you’re weak, a good strategy’s your best friend.’ ”
She pursed her lips. “You keep referring to him.”
“He was a great soldier and a great man,” Parad said with pride. “It was his victories that forced the Loyalists into the Peace of the Eclipse.”
She bobbed her head in silent approval. “He’s still alive?”
“No. Shame, though; he would’ve loved you.”
They said nothing for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, yet grateful for each other’s presence.
She glanced at his frowning face and grimaced. “Cloudy thoughts, stormy deeds, we say in Scorpio,” she said. “What’s on your mind?”
Before he had a chance to reply, a moth landed between them and Gella let out a surprised cry. Parad chuckled and let the insect crawl on his fingers. “It reminds me of you; a stealthy creature of the night,” he teased.
She grimaced. “It needs a sting for the analogy to work. Like a bee. A night-bee. No, a moth-bee.”
He laughed and made a small movement with his hand, sending the moth to fly away. “A moth-bee that smells of lavender and citrus.” He leaned towards her, taking in her scent with a deep breath.
She kissed him softly, then drew back and stared at him, a wild glint in her eyes betraying her fighting spirit. “So, when do we start?”
Parad turned serious again. “Immediately, although putting the plan to practice will have to wait. We need to be ready. Besides, making Crusoe wait can only make him more relaxed, which is good for us.”
He walked to the door and told the guard to summon Tang before returning to her. “Get ready. We meet with the senior officers in half an hour. Tell them what you’ve found, and I’ll discuss the plan with them.”
“I doubt the second briefing will be as fun as this one,” she pouted, rising to her feet.
“It’d better not,” he laughed.
Walker residence, Anthea, Western Democracies
Sol
Sol caressed Saul’s silky hair with tender fingers. Outside, the wind was howling and she had promised to put her scared brother to sleep. The boy was now lying in bed half-asleep, politics not being his favourite subject. Then again, bedtime stories are supposed to put you to sleep, she reasoned. Besides, there were precious few people she trusted enough to talk to, and Saul, by virtue of his youthful innocence, was her preferred confidante.
“It’s funny,” she told him. “Everyone now loves me. They’ve extended my tenure as Prefect.”
“What’s a perfect?” Saul murmured.
“A Prefect is very important man. And your sister’s now a very important woman. All because some bad people tried to hurt me.”
Saul was too young to know the truth behind the attack on her. His eyes flew open and he hugged her arm, making her wonder whether he would understand if he ever found out. “I was so scared,” he whimpered.
She ran her fingers through his fine hair. “I know, honey. But I’m fine. Really. And I’ve done so much good. The bad people tried to stop me, but they can’t even agree on the best way to do so.”
Her contemptuous smirk hid the fact that the two parties were a constant threat. She had to deal with them while her popularity lasted. The Bulls had howled at the city land redistribution, but had proven powerless to stop her.
“Defeating them was simple. Divide and conquer, as they say. They’re already at each other’s throats over who becomes Judge. And it’s all for nothing.”
The boy cradled his head on her thigh as she replaced the blanket around him. She stroked his forehead and stared lovingly at his sleepy face for a moment. “I’m also building ships. Lots of them. You saw the other day at the port how many they were. The new ones will be ten times as many.”
The wind banged a wooden shutter outside, and she slipped away to shut it, careful not to startle Saul. He had almost fallen asleep by the time she came back, and she continued, whispering, so as not to wake him up.
“I will pay for it all in Owls, too; the only thing the merchants love even more than their new products.” The new currency, with an owl on one side and an olive tree on the other, had already proved a huge success. “The city is alive once more. Already, everyone’s building great new houses and temples. It’s such a beautiful sight. No one will be left without a job. You’ll see, honey: when you grow up, you’ll be in the greatest city of all.”
Her face beamed as she stood still in the darkness, staring at her sleeping brother. “The whole world will bow before our might,” she promised him, leaning to plant a soft kiss on his forehead.
Gauld residence, Jonia, Jonian Democracies
Paul
Paul Gauld rose to meet Teo, arms open in a warm embrace, a wide grin lighting his face. Teo kissed him on both cheeks, as was customary in the Democracies, before sitting down in front of a low table overspilling with dates and other delicacies. Teo looked older; worn down.
Paul, on the other hand, had hardly aged at all since their last encounter, as his undiminished popularity with women could prove. He picked up a grape and ate it, spitting out the seeds, indicating that the meeting could begin.
Hearing sweet music from somewhere behind him, Teo glanced at a lithe young woman playing a sitar-like instrument. He nodded towards her and winked, bringing a smile to his friend’s lips.
Paul had never kept his fondness of beautiful women a secret, as attested to by the dozens of children he had sired with his many wives, divorcing one after another in favour of a new fancy. The running joke in Jonia was that the only thing better than being Paul’s wife was being his ex-wife, as he delighted in sharing his vast fortune with his unusually large extended family. A joke he took a certain pride in, although in his heart he knew only one woman had ever really mattered to him: his daughter, Satori.
Teo’s own marriage, on the other hand, had been a carefully orchestrated affair, guaranteed to offer him Magna’s invaluable support. A support he no longer had, if the rumours were to be believed.
Paul picked another grape. “So, what brings you to Jonia?”
; “Just passing through.”
Paul gave him a knowing smile as he studied his friend. They say that happy people feel worthy of other people’s love, whereas unhappy people don’t. Teo must feel particularly unworthy. “Last I heard, you were leading the Bulls,” Paul said in as indifferent a manner as he could muster. “Then things started to … unravel?” He almost chuckled at the dark sideways glance Teo threw him. He knew very well what had happened, of course.
“Ancient history,” Teo growled. “Those idiots I hired failed to do their job. You know how it is: the only way to get things done properly is to do them yourself.”
Paul bobbed his head in agreement, hiding a half-smile. Teo always accused others for his mistakes, his ill-fated coup a case-in-point. According to Paul’s informants, it had been decided over wine, drunken yes-men, and sycophants spurring Teo on. Many of them had paid for it with their lives, of course, when the mob stormed the Town Hall after Teo had abandoned them to their fate. Somehow, Paul found their end appropriate. “Absolutely. And what have you been up to since?”
Teo shoved a bunch of grapes into his mouth, chewing loudly. “Mostly travelling,” he said once he swallowed. “I visited Capital and New Capital.”
Paul did not need his informants to know what this meant. Teo had assured both Styx and Crusoe of his usefulness as an ally, hedging his bets.
“Now, I’m finally returning to Magna,” Teo continued. “Have you been keeping up with Anthea?”
“Of course.” Paul knew Teo watched the events in Anthea with great interest, eager for a chance to return. More than anything, he wanted to retake what was rightfully his in his mind; namely, the city itself. As far as Teo was concerned, Sol was simply keeping the seat warm for him.
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