Purane-Es quickened his pace. "So we only need to concern ourselves with the earthquakes, advancing armies, and columns of flame. Is that correct?"
"More or less," said Kallmer.
"You've got new orders," said Purane-Es. "I want you to gather your men and prepare to pull out of Sylvan. If what you're saying is true-and I do plan to verify every word of it-then we should fall back until reinforcements arrive. We did not think they would cross the border so soon, or so spectacularly."
"Who gives this order?"
"The order will come from my father once I speak with him."
"But he has not yet spoken."
"That does not matter. We are of one mind on this matter."
"Show me an order from Purane and I'll prepare my men. Until then, I retain command, and I give the orders."
They reached the hotel, and Kallmer pushed into the lobby, Purane-Es following him. "I can have you stripped to graveyard walker, Kallmer. You are walking a gossamer thread."
"Save it, Purane-Es," said Kallmer. "Why don't you go back to the City Emerald and write a love song? I have work to do."
Purane-Es stopped in the lobby, unable to believe what he'd just heard.
"Pardon me?" he said, his hands in fists.
"You heard me," said Kallmer. "Run along to your daddy."
"I'll have your head for this! Do you have any idea who you're speaking to?" said Purane-Es.
"Yes, I do. I know quite a bit about you, in fact. And if you try to get in my way, I'm fully prepared to spread that knowledge around."
"What do you think…" began Purane-Es, but he was cut off by a tall, aging lord who waved his hands for Kallmer's attention.
"Commander Kallmer!" shouted the man. "I have been waiting for hours!"
Kallmer bowed stiffly to the man. "Lord Geracy, we are doing everything we can to locate your daughter. As soon as I know more…"
"I don't have time for your equivocation, Kallmer," the man shouted. "I am leaving Sylvan in ten hours and if my daughter isn't with me, I'll speak to the Queen herself about this! I'll see that you and that cursed Mauritane are hanged from the same branch!"
"You're the third person to threaten me with death in the past twentyeight hours," said Kallmer dryly. "The threat is losing its edge."
"Mauritane?" said Purane-Es, his interest piqued.
"Yes!" shouted Geracy. "Kallmer had that fiend imprisoned at my palace. But he allowed the man to escape from under our very noses, with my only daughter as a hostage."
Purane-Es looked askance at Kallmer. "Why, Commander! Your report did not mention anything of the sort. Have you grown forgetful?"
"It's nothing to do with my orders," said Kallmer, fuming.
"Quite the contrary, I think it has everything to do with your orders." Purane-Es smiled with mock politeness.
"Forgive my ignorance, but whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" Geracy said, somewhat calmed by Purane-Es's presence.
"I am Purane-Es, of the City Emerald." Purane-Es gave a brief bow.
"You're Purane's boy!" the man said. "I am Geracy. Your father and I hunted together once or twice."
"Yes, he's spoken of you," said Purane-Es, although he'd never heard the man's name in his life. "If you'll pardon me," he said to Geracy, "I believe I can straighten this matter out with my fellow officer and have your daughter back in no time."
"Finally!" said Geracy. "Perhaps you can convince him not to pursue this dangerous alliance as well!"
"Alliance? Oh, we must speak in private," said Purane-Es.
Kallmer sat at his makeshift desk, peering across its wide expanse at Purane-Es, who paced furiously before him. A pair of sergeants tended to paperwork at another table, ignored. Otherwise, the room was empty. Kallmer poured drinks and laid out the previous day's events in brief, leaving out anything to do with the escape and kidnapping Geracy had complained about.
"Amazing," said Purane-Es, when the story was finished. "But where is Mauritane now, if not here? If you have created an alliance, why do your troops not train together?"
Kallmer nodded. "Well, Mauritane is at the Temple Aba-e. He's working on some plan of his own devising right now. As to the troops, we thought it would be a bit much to place them side by side. We're going to deploy them separately, under joint orders from me, through Mauritane. He's the only person who both sides will follow. So the rebel troops are assembling in a grove near the City Center, and…"
"Mauritane will lead the troops!" Purane-Es shouted. "Mauritane is a convicted traitor, a murderer, and a madman. Have you lost your mind?"
Kallmer took a moment to compose his thoughts. "Do you think me stupid, Purane-Es? All I've done is allow Mauritane to do my job for me. If he fails, there will still be time to evacuate. But if he is successful, then credit goes to us." He leaned back in his chair, making a steeple with his fingers. "Again, there is nothing you can do about it."
Purane-Es drew his sword with a smooth motion. "Do not be so sure, Kallmer."
"Don't threaten me, you pompous ass," said Kallmer. "I know what happened at Stilbel. I know it was you who gave the order, not Mauritane."
"That is not a lie you ought to be spreading," said Purane-Es. "Such talk could get you hurt."
"And it could get you hanged," said Kallmer. "You lied under oath at the tribunal, and I can prove it. Perjury by a nobleman is a capital offense."
"You can prove nothing."
"Oh, but you're wrong," said Kallmer. "I was there."
Kallmer allowed that to sink in. "I was an aide for the commander at Beleriand, and I was transferred briefly to Mauritane's command while you and your brother were out slaughtering villagers. I know he did not write the order, because I transcribed the order that he did write. I still have a copy."
"If you are so familiar with the facts, then you know that Mauritane amended his original orders. The order to secure Stilbel was an amendment. What you claim to have proves nothing."
"I assume you never read the original order, then," laughed Kallmer. "It states, and I quote, `whatever means you take to secure the valley east of the river, you will by no means harm any of the civilians along its length.' That would make for quite an amendment."
"You're lying," said Purane-Es.
"Don't you wish that I was?" said Kallmer. "I've been holding on to that little tidbit for years, just waiting for the moment it might come in most handy. And now that I know it was you, I also know who to blame for not speaking out all this time. I'll tell them that you threatened my life, as you did just a few moments ago outside, in front of witnesses."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me, Purane-Es. I beg you."
Purane-Es lowered his sword. "Fine!" he said. "Fine! You win. If you want to die here attempting heroics, be my guest. I'll return to the City Emerald and speak with my father. Once the Unseelie are defeated, assuming you yet live, I'm sure we can come to some kind of… arrangement. Assuming that an arrangement is what you're seeking from all this."
"An arrangement would be delightful," said Kallmer. "I believe a new assignment will be in order for me, closer to home, and perhaps a promotion to lieutenant captain."
"We shall see," said Purane-Es, his rage barely contained.
"Yes, we shall."
"Just one more thing," said Purane-Es. He moved as though to sheath his sword, raising the hilt over his head. Rather than stow the blade, however, he leaped quickly forward and thrust across the table, driving his point home through Kallmer's eye socket. Kallmer jerked, his hands grasping at his face, then slumped backward into his chair, dead.
The two sergeants looked up from their work. Purane-Es wiped his sword on Kallmer's cloak. "I was forced to kill him in self-defense," he said. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll agree with me, now and forever."
Chapter 38
elements and motion
"How are all five of us going to fit in that thing?" asked Raieve, uncertain. It was not possible to her that the fragile Unseel
ie flyer could leave the ground at all, much less with five armed occupants. It was shallow and seemed held together with nothing but string and optimism.
Here at the top of the Temple Aba-e, the mist was like a second covering of snow over the city. A chill wind howled through the stark archways at the building's summit. The flyer rested at an angle on the rooftop, looking to Raieve like a lost sailboat. The abbot knelt by them, saying more prayers. Raieve could not understand the words that he prayed, but she was glad that someone was doing it. Some of the pink-robed monks stood by, watching the scene unfold.
"Eloquet will take the controls," said Mauritane. "Satterly will sit next to him in front, since he's the tallest. Silverdun and I will ride in back, with you sitting in one of our laps."
"That hardly seems dignified," said Raieve.
"Dignity is not the goal. We are to be drunken revelers returned late from the city of Gejel. That is why we do not know the current passphrases."
"And you really believe this… thing… will fly?" said Raieve.
"A friend of mine died so that you could fly in this `thing,' woman," said Eloquet. "Marar Envacoro was one of the bravest men I've ever known."
"It was not my wish to offend," said Raieve, blushing. "I do not mean to diminish the sacrifice of your friend."
"And you're certain we'll have clearance to get into the city with it?" asked Mauritane.
"I think so," said Eloquet. "In peacetime, they do not even check the passphrases. Marar was able to come and go as he pleased, and he visited us here often, coordinating the church's Unseelie operations. The flier was spellworked to return to the temple upon his death, so it escaped detection even unmanned. Now that they are at war, however, I suspect they'll be a bit pickier about who gets in. Marar and I spoke often about this contingency and he believed it would work."
"What happened to him?" said Satterly.
"Mab's legionnaires cut his throat. His name has joined the list of martyrs."
Satterly nodded and didn't say anything.
"Are we ready then?" said Mauritane.
"I think so," said Eloquet. "Vestar?"
"A simple prayer, I think," said the old man, rising to his feet. "Aba, protect these of your children as they embark on a mission whose goal is peace. Let them commit only what is necessary of bloodshed, and spread your protection like a blanket over them, for they act in your name."
"The girl Elice is safe, the baron's daughter?" Mauritane asked Eloquet.
"My men are watching over her. She will come to no harm. I do wish you'd tell me why we're keeping her, though. Perhaps I'd feel more comfortable about it."
"I wish I could tell you," Mauritane said.
Eloquet looked around. "Right, cut the moorings. We're off?"
One of Eloquet's men swung an ax, and the ropes holding the flyer in place snapped, sending the craft lurching forward into the sky.
"How does this thing work?" Satterly shouted over the wind.
"Its power comes from the city itself. It can't operate very long away from the city's power source, but it should be just enough to get us back when we're done."
The city of Mab had appeared on the horizon in the early morning, a wide charcoal shadow against the northern skyline. Its approach was ponderous, seemingly infinite, but whenever Raieve looked up, its bulk seemed closer. Now she was almost glad to be flying directly toward it, if only to end the waiting. It grew in size and definition as they flew; she tried to make out the details of the city, keeping her mind full in order to block out the cold and fear.
They passed over the northern outskirts of Sylvan and sailed across the forest to the north. Somewhere in that direction lay the still-burning wreckage of Selafae. According to witnesses, the city had been incinerated in a matter of seconds by a tiny projectile. The ones who'd seen it and lived swore the missile was no larger than a man's head.
As they approached the city of Mab, Eloquet veered to the east, keeping the flyer low to the ground. They would make a wide circle and approach the city from the northeast to make their cover story more believable.
Already they could see the troop transports beginning to ferry their cargo to the ground. The wide, flat vessels detached from the city's ragged underbelly, each carrying a hundred or more men in tight formation, as well as horses, weapons, and supplies. Soldiers on the ground hurriedly felled trees so the transports could land in greater numbers.
"Why are they landing troops so far away from Sylvan?" asked Silverdun.
"These are only the backup infantry and cavalry," said Eloquet. "The primary column will remain in the city until it lands. These soldiers will secure the surrounding villages and clean up the mess when it's all over."
"They have more backups than we have troops!" shouted Satterly.
"Not quite," said Eloquet, "but enough to make me uncomfortable."
Once they'd reached a sufficient distance to make a plausible approach vector, Eloquet brought the flyer about and they glided toward the city of Mab. Now they were running with the wind, and Raieve realized that the flyer itself made no sound whatsoever.
"Check your costumes," ordered Mauritane. "And keep to yourselves. We don't want to start a fight before we even reach the city."
The city grew to take up half the sky, and it kept growing. Raieve had to admit she was impressed. From the outside, the city of Mab was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen. Enormous masts rose into the heavens bearing multicolored sails. Long streamers of purple and red flew from posts all over the rails and from the rigging as well. Though the structure had obviously been amended heavily over the years, its basic shape was that of a pear sliced in half along its length. The top deck was mostly flat, and the hull underneath was smooth and rounded. From the flat expanse rose a number of towers and spires; they mingled with the sails, their solidity complementing the constant rippling of the sheets.
It was not until she could see individual Fae crawling in the rigging and scurrying about on the decks that she was able to assimilate the scale of the sight before her. The city of Mab was more massive than anything she'd yet seen made by Fae hands. It would take half an hour to ride the length of it at a gallop. And it flew.
A pair of guards standing along the wall hailed them with the blast of a horn. Eloquet reached for the flags at his feet and shuffled through them. "I certainly hope this works," he said. He held up the flags in the order Marar Envacoro had specified in his final message. Green, then blue, then yellow, then green again.
The horn blew again, twice.
"That's not good," Eloquet said. "That's a signal to hold position."
"What do we do?" said Satterly, nervous.
"Don't do anything yet," said Mauritane. "We gain nothing by panicking."
One of the guards disappeared from the wall, and within seconds a flyer twice the size of theirs was in the sky, sailing toward them.
"That's a military patrol flyer," said Eloquet.
"Keep still," said Mauritane. Raieve looked down and noticed Mauritane's grip tighten on his sword. She wished she were in a less vulnerable position.
The patrol ship pulled alongside theirs and the single officer glanced over at them.
"Those are last month's flags," he said. "Do you have the new ones?"
Eloquet leaned out over the abyss, a huge grin on his face. "I must apologize, sir. I do not. We've been away at the Palm Festival in Gejel for the past twenty days."
"Do you have your identification with you?"
Eloquet reached into his tunic and withdrew a folded set of papers.
"Envacoro, eh? Tax collectors get twenty-day holidays now?"
"It was a special bonus." Eloquet continued to grin.
Raieve almost let go a sigh of relief. Then the guard looked over Eloquet's shoulder and seemed to notice them for the first time. "The rest of you, let's see your papers."
Sitting on Mauritane's lap, Raieve could feel his legs tensing to leap at the guard.
"I've got them
," said Silverdun, rising awkwardly from his seat. He handed the guard a torn piece of cloth from his cloak.
"What's this?" said the guard.
"Why, our papers, of course," said Silverdun. His words were slow and singsong. "All perfectly in order, too."
The guard turned the cloth over in his hand. "Yes, that looks about right," he said. He handed Silverdun back the brown strip as though it were a thick stack of documents. "Carry on. Hope you had a good time, because we're at war now, and you're tethered for the interim."
After the guard had flown, Satterly said, "What just happened?"
Silverdun smiled, the first time Raieve had seen him do so in weeks. "My mestinal training finally pays off," he said. "I showed him the documentation he wished to see, plucked from his own memories."
"Good work," said Mauritane. Only then did Raieve feel his muscles relax beneath her. "Let's go, Eloquet."
Eloquet nodded. "I'm letting the flyer take us to its accustomed mooring," he said. "Marar's home is in a deliberately inconspicuous part of the city."
When they were close enough to see the faces and hear the shouts of the people of Mab, Raieve began to have second thoughts about their endeavor. In her previous life, the grudges and vendettas had all been personal. She knew none of these Unseelie people. How many innocents would die? It was not right, but she did not know what would be better.
Eloquet let the craft steer itself into a bay, between a pair of much larger and more opulent flying machines. They stole from the flyer quickly, trying to remain silent and yet appear as natural as possible to any passersby. Fortunately, there were none.
"We made it," breathed Eloquet.
"Don't start celebrating yet," said Mauritane. "We may not have impressed that guard as much as we thought."
The area in which they'd landed appeared to be a small marina, although that was certainly not the appropriate word here. Raieve wondered what the correct word for such a place was. Worn piers of mottled gray wood jutted out from the edge of the city's grand deck; instead of water, however, beneath them was only empty sky and the black and white of snow on rock beneath them.
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