"But, your highness, the ground has proven to be—" answered Morlo but the king cut him off.
"No more excuses. Either catch up or I will find someone else to do your job. And trust me – you will not like the next job I find for you."
"Yes, your highness. I will not fail you," answered Morlo, bowing deeply before the king.
At nearly nine feet tall, Hadrian was large even for a Tormada. He showed no signs of his age, though he had just turned eighty-three. The only wrinkles on his body were battle scars. His hair and pointed goatee were still as black as the day he received his metal. The years may not have betrayed his body, but they had most certainly lessened his patience.
"Well, at least he's in a good mood," whispered Xander to his sister. Septa made no response. Hadrian looked up from his conversation and saw his children standing in the doorway.
"So, what is so urgent that you felt the need to abandon your post?"
"There is a... situation," answered Xander cautiously, "that I wanted to discuss with you in private." Xander waited for Hadrian to order Septa and Morlo out so that they could converse privately. Instead, the king simply stared impatiently at his son.
"Say what you've come to say," said Hadrian. Xander could sense a smile creeping onto Septa's face.
"Earlier this afternoon, two Reytana were discovered within Reysa," said Xander.
"Good," replied Hadrian. "I expected they would try something soon. I'm assuming you interrogated them before you came here."
"Not exactly. They escaped."
Hadrian stared hard at his son. His violet eyes darkened. Xander did not look away, choosing instead to accept the malignant look the king sent his way.
"Of course they escaped..." said Hadrian in a low growl. "Why would I have thought that you had actually done your job?" Hadrian's voice grew with every word he spoke. "You never did take anything seriously. And now you've let two rogue Reytana infiltrate the city. We don't know their mission or who sent them or even who they are!"
"Actually, I know who they are. It was a brother and sister, and I can guarantee you that they weren't sent into the city with a mission."
"And how do you know that?" exclaimed Hadrian.
"Because they didn't know they were Reytana until today. They just received their light."
"CHILDREN?! You let children escape!"
"They had help," answered Xander. "Dario and their school professor."
"Dario..." seethed Hadrian. "We should never have let him live. It was weakness. So, how many search parties have you sent out after the children?"
"Father," replied Xander. "Hear me out. The escape of these two Reytana may be a blessing in disguise. I am certain that Dario provided them with some information to help them once they escaped. It is very possible that he may have even sent them to meet up with the hidden Reytana. If we capture them now, we will never know. But if we allow them to continue their journey, they may lead us to the Reytana's hiding place."
Hadrian turned his back to his son and stroked his goatee thoughtfully. Nobody said a word. The king began to slowly pace. He disliked indecision because it was inefficient, but he absolutely abhorred rashness, especially when it came to important decisions. Given the choice between being fast and being right, he would always choose to be right. This philosophy was one of the reasons why he was still alive today. It was also why he was such a master tactician. And this was a decision that required some thought.
"Father," Septa said, breaking the silence, "let me track them. If they lead me to the lost Reytana I will call for the army, and if they don't then I will strike them down in cold blood."
Hadrian regarded his daughter in silence for a few moments before answering. "No. Xander, this mess is your responsibility, so you will clean it up. Take three Gartune with you. You have one week. After that time, I expect to have heard one of two things from you; either you have found the Reytana's hiding place or that you have killed the escapees. In the meantime, Morlo, I want you to mobilize the army. If we discover their hiding place, I want to be ready."
"Yes, your highness," answered Morlo.
"I want them ready to move at a moment's notice. Do you understand?"
"Yes, your highness. It will be done."
Hadrian turned back to his son. "One week! I had better not hear news of your failure or there will be consequences, Xander."
"Understood," replied Xander.
Xander bowed to his father and exited the war chamber. Septa followed close behind. When they were out of earshot of the king, Septa turned to her brother.
"Take me with you!" she demanded.
"You heard him," answered Xander. "This is my mess to clean up, not yours."
"You know I can fight better than any of those lumbering idiots down in the courtyard. He needs to see that I am worthy – especially if a war is coming. Damn it, Xander – take me with you!"
"Rain check," said Xander.
And with that, Xander turned and left his sister alone in the hallway. Septa slammed her eüroc into the ground, splintering the granite beneath her feet and sending cracks up and down the walls of the corridor.
“The cities of Reysa and Gartol could not have been any more different. This was because each one reflected the characteristics of their patron deity and, like the unique powers of the two gods, the cities were polar opposites. Reysa was the light; Gartol the shadow.”
- Chapter Two of The Crescent Wars, by Nicholas Baston
Chapter Eight: Embark
Xander found Belkore at the training compound scolding a pair of infantrymen. Based on the look on the two Gartolians' faces, they were not entirely sure what exactly they were being berated for. They looked at each other nervously, trying to figure out what to do next as the menacing Gartune hulked over them.
"Now prove to me that you understand what I just told you!" shouted Belkore. The two tormans sprang into combat stances and began to awkwardly swing their swords at each other, unsure as to which maneuver their Gartune instructor wished them to perform. What resulted was a spastic, flailing dance between two terrified soldiers. Belkore was about to lay into them again when Xander approached the group.
"What a fine example of military precision!" exclaimed Xander. "Belk, you definitely have found your calling. Why, these are some of the finest-trained soldiers I have ever laid eyes on!"
Belkore addressed his trainees while scowling at his old friend. "You two get back to your barracks. If your skill has not improved by this time tomorrow, you will find that I will not be so lenient." The two Gartolian soldiers quickly bowed and ran away in the direction of their barracks. Just before they were out of view, one of them tripped over his own boot and face-planted into the ground. His companion just kept on running.
"Truly impressive," said Xander.
"Tormans..." grunted Belkore. "They shouldn't be allowed near a sword. Hauling gear is all they're good for."
"Perhaps they just lack proper motivation," quipped Xander.
"Oh, I've given them plenty of motivation."
"Yes, I can see that," said Xander. "And it's working marvelously."
"Perhaps I should pat their heads and bake them a cake when they fail. Isn't that what they do in Reysa?"
"Pretty much," said Xander.
"And how does that work out?"
"Deliciously."
Belkore snorted again. His face relaxed for the first time. "I must admit, there have been a few times when I've missed that smart mouth of yours."
"Just my mouth?"
Belkore pretended to size up the rest of his companion. "The rest of you I could probably do without. It looks like that floater food must agree with you. Not a lot of exercise to be had in Reysa, then?"
"Well, we have our weekly torman chases, of course, but they just don't run as fast as they used to."
"Torman chases," laughed Belkore. "That sounds like something we should suggest to your father."
"It does sound like his type of sport, doesn'
t it?" responded Xander.
"So, what brings you back to the city? Other than to bother me," asked Belkore.
"I'm forming a gang. You interested?"
"What type of gang?" asked Belkore.
"Oh, you know – the usual. A tough brood of thugs to spread intimidation and mayhem. There might also be singing."
Belkore rolled his eyes. "Seriously, what are you doing here?"
"I'm forming a gang!" repeated Xander. "Ok, well maybe more of a search party. But I thought 'gang' had an edgier ring to it. I was thinking you and the old tracker. What do you say?"
"I can't just leave. I have my training duties to attend to," said Belkore.
"Yes, and I'm sure that you will be sorely missed. Now come on, we're leaving." Xander turned and started walking towards the hyper-rail station but Belkore stood still.
“They're hopeless, Belk!" shouted Xander over his shoulder as he continued walking. "Come and do something useful with your time."
Belkore frowned. He grumbled to himself then went to catch up with the prince.
Through the windows of the hyper-rail car, Xander could see that the city had already begun to prepare for battle. Several Gartolians were loading supplies and weapons onto transport vehicles. Monstrous iron tanks emerged from hidden caves in the side of the canyon, smoke billowing from their backs. These iron beasts were the same as those that had been outfitted to support the shield in Reysa. In the space where the shield legs would have been there were giant turrets capable of firing a shell ten feet in diameter. Instead of long, protruding cannons, the shells were fired out of concave holes in the turret. This gave the tanks a squatty, turtle-like appearance.
Xander watched the tanks roll into formation. Because of their great size, they moved very slowly. It would take them over two weeks to travel from Gartol to Reysa. If those make it to the front steps of Reysa, it won't be much of a battle, thought Xander. Even if the hidden Reytana return, without any solar energy to power the city's defenses it would be a lopsided affair. Reytana are no match for Gartolian tanks.
“So do you really think the old man is going to go for it?” asked Belkore as he leaned back against the window of the hyper-rail car. “Word is that he’s retired. Nobody has even seen him or those idiot kids of his for a long time.”
“So maybe he’ll just need a little convincing,” replied Xander. “Besides, Aefort is the best tracker in The Crescent. We’d be doing ourselves a disservice if we didn’t at least try to get him to join our little gang. But if you don’t mind, I’ll try talking to him first. If that doesn’t work, you can hit him with that Belkore charm.”
Belkore grunted then closed his eyes and placed his hands behind his head. Outside, the last remnants of the city disappeared from view as the hyper-rail car shot around the first bend of Hadrian’s Canyon.
From her regal apartment at the top level of Gartol, Septa had the best view in the city. She often came out onto her balcony at night. It was peaceful and it was quiet; a good place to think. Lately, her thoughts had been as black as the city below her.
Because it was built into an enormous cavern, Gartol was always dark, but the night gave it a particularly ominous feel. Light from a thousand torches flickered on the walls of the alleyways, pushing the shadows back into dead ends and corners. Hardly any citizens were out at night. There wasn’t a curfew per se, but the thought of meeting a Gartune alone in the dark was enough to keep the residents in their homes.
Septa watched her brother's hyper-rail car speed away through the night, the moon glistening off of the top of the car's metallic surface. She knew that Xander had selected Belkore to accompany him; a choice made more for companionship than competence. Should they actually capture their prey, which she thought unlikely, there was a good chance that they would let them escape again. Septa's anger smoldered inside of her.
"I should have been in that car. I should have been leading the whole damn search!" she said aloud to herself.
"What's stopping you?" said a voice from behind her.
Septa turned and saw Morlo emerging from the shadows of her room.
"I thought I smelled your stench, Commander. I don't remember inviting you into my quarters," said Septa.
"Forgive me, Princess," said Morlo. "But I thought perhaps you could use some friendly counsel."
"And yet I see no friends of mine here," replied Septa.
"A truth which I hope to someday remedy, Princess," said Morlo. "I think you may find me to be a useful ally, especially in the days to come."
"I think my father may have something else to say about your usefulness."
"Your father is a great man, but we do not always... see eye to eye. I think that is something you and I have in common."
Septa's scowl lessened slightly. "You heard what he said. My brother must clean up his own mess."
"That's not what really bothers you, is it?" said Morlo as he walked slowly toward the Gartune princess. "You think that your father sees you as less capable than your younger brother." It was as if Morlo had looked straight into her heart.
"Only because I'm a woman!" shouted Septa.
"I have seen you in the courtyard," continued Morlo. "That is no mere woman fighting out there. That is a soldier of Gartune. I know that I would not want to face you on the battlefield." His voice was cool and calculated. His eyes never made direct contact with the person that he was talking to (unless it was the king) and the way he walked could best be described as reptilian.
"What does it matter?" answered Septa. Morlo's words soothed the anger inside of her, but she was still frustrated. "Even if we go to battle, father will keep me off of the front lines, just like the last time."
"Yes,” Morlo said carefully, “what happened during the war was... regrettable. But if it doesn't matter, then why do you train every day?"
"To show him! To show him that I am strong – stronger than the soldiers he sends in front of me – stronger than Xander! To prove that he should have sent me last time! All I need is the opportunity."
"Then make your own opportunity!" replied Morlo. "Go and find these Reytana fugitives before Xander does. Bring them back here and claim the glory for yourself. The king would not be able to ignore you then."
"You would have me disobey the king?"
Morlo bent over so that he was inches from Septa's ear, and he whispered, "Sometimes, in order to get noticed, you must break the rules."
Septa did not like how close the commander was to her. She could feel his breath on her ear as he lingered by her side. For a moment, she considered reminding the commander of his place – a reminder that he would feel for the next several days. However, his words had truth to them. The thought of going out on her own had already occurred to her, and Morlo's suggestion only reinforced that idea. But why did Morlo care what she did? His mannerisms could have been perceived as seductive, but Septa did not sense any sexual intent from the older Gartune. Even he knew better than to make advances towards the king’s daughter. Then why the serpentine behavior? And why was he still standing so close!
She shoved the commander backwards. Morlo gracefully shuffled backwards with his head bowed. “My apologies, Princess,” said Morlo humbly. “You may, of course, do as you wish. I only hoped to lend some friendly council.”
“What are you really doing here, Morlo?” asked Septa. She walked slowly towards the bowed commander, tapping her eüroc on the floor as she approached him. “You take a big risk saying such things. If my father knew of your ‘council,’ he would not be pleased. And you are not my friend. So, I ask again – why are you here?”
Morlo kept his head bowed and lowered his voice to a whisper. “You’re right, we are not friends. But we share something. Your father looks at us both the same way. In his eyes we are weak, we are less than. He does not believe that we are capable of greatness.” Morlo began to raise his eyes towards Septa. “But he is wrong. About us both. I know that I have the capacity for greatness inside of me and I intend
to prove it to the king! I just assumed that you were the same.”
Sparks flickered in Septa’s dark purple eyes. Morlo’s little speech still seemed like it had an ulterior motive, but she did not care. Her heart had been a smoldering fire and Morlo’s words had been the gas she needed to ignite it into a blaze. She would do it. She would find the Reytana and bring them back to her father. He will not be able to ignore me anymore.
Now that she had a mission to focus on, Septa stormed out of her apartment at a determined pace. It took her only a few minutes to reach the castle's armory. The guards did not dare question the princess as she stalked past them. They feared her almost as much as the king himself. Septa shoved a few weapons and provisions into a bag and then headed directly for the hyper-rail.
When Septa arrived at the hyper-rail station, she found a group of Gartolian engineers standing over one of the docks, arguing.
“What is going on here?” she snapped.
The Gartolians immediately stood at attention. “Apologies, Princess,” said one of the engineers. “We did not see you there.”
“Well, you see me now. I want a car loaded onto the dock for immediate departure.”
The engineers looked at each other uncomfortably. Finally, one of them gathered the courage to speak. “Of course, Princess. There’s just a small thing that we need to fix first. One of the primers did not detach properly when your brother’s car departed earlier. It will need to be replaced before we can launch another car from the station.”
“And how long is that going to take?” Septa replied, her eyes narrowing.
“We’ve already sent someone to the engineering bay. He should be back with the new primer shortly. After that, it shouldn’t take more than an hour – two at the most, to install it. Don’t worry! We’ll have you on your way in no time.”
“Two hours is hardly ‘no time,’” said Septa. “Very well…” She turned and looked out over Moon Lake towards the canyon that Xander had departed through. Part of her wondered if he had something to do with the primer not detaching properly. Did you know I was coming after you, brother? She hoped that he had. It would make the chase more interesting.
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