Fields of Wrath

by Mickey Zucker Reichert

Tae winced, hoping she had not revealed too much.

  *Different . . . words?* Kentt prodded.

  The explanation tumbled from Mistri, accompanied by a childish understanding that suited the situation well. *When they say ‘apple,’ they mean lasat. When they say bed, they mean bassana. And when they say Arturo, they mean Bobbin.*

  Confusion radiated in waves. *But why? Why not just say lasat? Or bassana?*

  Again, Mistri’s basic, childlike understanding accompanied her words. *The gods didn’t give them the real words, so they named things with other sounds. They all used the same sounds for a long time, and these became their words. Like naming Bobbin Arturo, they name a bassana bed. They can talk as good as we can, but each word sounds . . . different.*

  The simplicity of a three-year-old sank in to Kentt’s mind as Tae knew no explanation of his own would. He did not bother to correct her misconception that all the peoples of the continent spoke a common language. The trading tongue was common enough.

  *Is that true, Tae?* A hint of awe came through the sending.

  Tae imagined that, to beings who believed language a gift from the gods, a group of people inventing it on their own, even incorrectly, had to seem brilliant. *A bit simplified, but near enough.*

  *And you’re the only one of your kind who hears anari? Why is that?*

  Tae believed he and Mistri had shared more than enough information to demand reciprocation. *I can’t say for sure I’m the only one who hears anari, but I know most of us don’t. I’ve found that humans are more unique in their individuality than Outworlders: Kjempemagiska, elves, and alsona.* Tae avoided lumping in some of the monsters they had met during their travel to other worlds, such as spirit spiders and also gods. He did not wish to risk offense to the gods or to the Kjempemagiska.

  To himself, Tae ascribed the many variations of humans to shorter lifespans and lack of magic, which put larger distances between the various peoples and did not give them the extended time together necessary to develop in a uniform manner; but he believed it best not to bring these particular issues to Kentt’s notice. *We deserve to know why you’re invading us, murdering our people—our men, women, and children—indiscriminately when we’ve done nothing to justify such brutality.*

  Silence prevailed. Other noises reached Tae’s ears: the indecipherable buzz of conversations in other rooms of the palace, the distant clatter of dishware in the private kitchen, the purr of Imorelda in the center of the empty bed. Curtains flapped in the wind, clamps banged against masts at the docks, and voices wafted up from the guardians in the courtyard.

  Mistri broke the hush, *Are you doing what Tae said, Poppy?*

  It was an innocent question, full of curiosity and sorrow, shock and disappointment.

  Kentt’s response was pure outrage. *This is not a topic to discuss in front of a child.*

  The horrible irony did not escape Tae Kahn. *So, if I’m to understand you, it’s fine to torture and murder our children but not to speak of it in front of yours?*

  *Mistri is innocent!*

  Tae could not back down. *As are our children, Kentt. Their mothers, even our men. We have done nothing to harm you or your people, aside from defend ourselves under unprecedented and unwarranted attack.*

  Kentt said nothing, but irritation came through the contact loud and clear. *We do not have to defend our motives to animals, any more than you do to the calves and lambs, kids and piglets, deer and conies you butcher.*

  *So you require our flesh . . . as food?*

  *We require your land. Ours has become too crowded to support us, and our continued survival obliges us to take yours.*

  *But not to slaughter us. Our kings and queens are reasonable. If you asked, they could find places for your people to settle peacefully among us.* Tae studied Mistri to see how the conversation affected her. She stood stock-still, clearly focused on the words, her expression unreadable.

  *We are superior beings. We cannot and will not settle for those places you have declared unsuitable for your own habitation.*

  Tae would have liked to keep the conversation to the pertinent but knew he had to correct the misconception. If he did not, he tacitly accepted it and set the stage for their continued negotiations. *We accept the premise that you’re superior to animals in the same way that humans and elves are. However, we reject the premise that you’re superior to us.*

  Surprise akin to shock came from the other side. *You would dispute our supremacy?*

  *Without doubt or hesitation.*

  *But we have magic . . . *

  *We are not wholly without it.* Tae did not specify the source of that magic. He would play no part in the targeting of elves and Myrcidians.

  *And we have size.*

  Tae could hardly dispute that fact. *We also reject the premise that size bears any relation to status. In fact, we have a saying that goes “the larger the enemy, the longer and more jarring his fall.”* It was not a real quotation; Tae had just made it up for illustrative purposes. *We value intelligence and cunning over height, compassion over beauty, skill and strength over bulk.*

  Kentt started and stopped speaking several times, like mental hiccups, before finally sending, *Today, in battle, our superiority will be proven when we destroy your armies without a casualty of our own. We have no choice but to kill. You yonha are too foolish and defiant to serve us as the alsona do.*

  As soon as possible, Tae needed to let King Griff know that the battle on the field had, apparently, begun. *If you truly believe you will war with us and not lose many of your own, you will be sorely disappointed.*

  Kentt repeated forcefully, *We will not lose a single man.*

  Tae did not argue. It made no difference what he said, the Kjempemagiska would not believe him. Disabusing him would only harm the peoples of the continent. The longer the giants clung to that belief, the worse the shock of the first casualty would prove. Once demoralized, they would be more likely to make foolish mistakes that might cost them the entire war.

  *You speak of compassion, little Tae. When will you release my daughter?*

  Mistri looked up at Tae, her features crumpled, pained. She was about to cry. He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. *Mistri will tell you she’s been free to come and go since we arrived in Béarn. She is not a prisoner.* He nodded encouragingly to the massive girl.

  Mistri spoke her first words in a long time. *I’m here, Poppy. In a room in the castle. Where are you?*

  Kentt hesitated before addressing Tae again. *You know, I can use magic to bring down that castle. I can leave it a heap of useless rubble.*

  Tae knew Firuz, the only Kjempemagiska present at the first war, had nearly managed to create a tsunami before being stopped by the combined effort of Tem’aree’ay, Ivana, and Chymmerlee. *You would kill your own daughter?* Tae tried to sound incredulous, his hands winching on Mistri’s tensed shoulders.

  *Don’t listen to the yonha, Mistri, my love. I would never harm you.*

  *Tae is not a yonha,* Mistri defended them. *Not Bobbin, either. They’re hyoomins, Poppy.* She demonstrated uncommon understanding by adding. *I told you I’m inside the castle. If you knock it down, Tae’s right. You’ll kill all of us.*

  Kentt’s response was quick and sweet. *I wouldn’t knock it down with you inside, my love.*

  Mistri turned to face Tae, and he caught her in his arms. He did not know if he needed to coach her, but worried her unusual circumstances and young age might render her incapable of making the necessary connections and decisions. “Mistri, he’s just essentially said he’s going to collapse the castle with magic after you leave us. You’ll be fine, but we’ll all die.”

  Mistri turned her head to look at Imorelda, purring contentedly on the bed, then gave the right answer. *I won’t come out, then, Poppy.*

  *Why not?* Kentt shot back.

  *If I do, you’ll
kill my friends. If I stay, you won’t do that because it would kill me, too.*

  The exasperation of a father thwarted came through the mental contact. Tae knew the feeling well. Under other circumstances, he might have felt sorry for Kentt. *Mistri, come to me!*

  Mistri folded her arms over her chest in the sullen posture toddlers and adolescents perfected. *No.*

  *Mistri . . . *

  *No!*

  *If you’re safely returned, I won’t collapse the castle. I won’t hurt . . . anyone. You’re worth more to me than the world itself. You’re my special little girl, my one and only.*

  Tae jumped in, *Kentt, I have only one child also, a boy on the battlefield. I want him safely returned every bit as much as you do Mistri.* He had spoken more for Mistri than Kentt, so it surprised him when the giant answered.

  *I . . . have no control over your son’s fate, Tae.* The implication was obvious. Kentt knew Tae could kill Mistri and had, thus far, chosen not to do so. He also seemed to be acknowledging Tae’s influence over his little girl. *I believe . . . the fighting has already begun, and I doubt it will last long.* He added words that surprised Tae, mostly because they seemed sincere, *I’m sorry.*

  Tae resisted the urge to describe Subikahn as an exceptional warrior less likely to die in the battle than other soldiers. Not the sort to brag, he also did not wish to single out his own son for enemy attention.

  Still focused on her own interaction, Mistri spoke instead, *Promise, Poppy. Promise on Mummy’s hair.*

  Distracted by the intervening conversation, Kentt asked, *Promise what, baby girl?*

  *I’m not a baby!* Mistri pointed out, with more of the young child stubbornness. *I’m a big girl.*

  *I’m sorry, big girl. What promise are you asking for?* Suspicion entered his tone again. Clearly, he believed Tae was behind whatever demand followed.

  *Promise you won’t knock down the castle. You won’t hurt Tae or Bobbin or Imorda.* Mistri could not get the cat’s name out properly. *Promise, Poppy. Or I’m not coming out.*

  Kentt’s emotion was unusually difficult to read. Tae suspected he tried to adopt the same sincerity as his daughter while, at the same time, wishing he did not have to deal with childish games. *I promise to—*

  *On Mummy’s hair,* Mistri reminded.

  *On Mummy’s hair,* Kentt added dutifully. *That I won’t make the castle fall and I won’t harm Tae or Bobbin or . . . that other one you named, unless they try to harm you or me.* He paused a moment. *Is that satisfactory?*

  Tae wanted to add a number of names and conditions, but he doubted Kentt would respect a vow to any human as he would one to his daughter. *Kentt, I’m happy to return your daughter to you safely, but I will have to accompany her. She’s not known to others at the castle. Because of her size, they may not realize she’s a child. Given the current state of things, any stranger will be met with understandable mistrust. I can make certain no one harms her before she reunites with you.*

  Kentt hesitated. *And what would you demand of me?*

  Tae sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had not anticipated a one-on-one discussion with any Kjempemagiska. He had fully expected them to storm the castle and take Mistri by force. *I ask only that you make an effort to understand our situation. We are intelligent sovereign beings, not the animals you name us.* Tae could scarcely believe he was making the argument Matrinka had fostered and he had dismissed. He suspected the Kjempemagiska used the animal argument only as an excuse. Like alsona, they saw humans as something above beasts but inferior to themselves, creatures to enslave and destroy at will. Kentt’s cooperation had everything to do with recovering Mistri alive. Most parents would say anything, do almost anything, to rescue their child.

  Nonetheless, Kentt hesitated, at least appearing to consider Tae’s demand. *I . . . will do my best to see you as you see yourselves, but I cannot promise others of my kind can or will do so. Most could not understand why we allowed Mistri to keep Bobbin. They thought us foolish and him . . . dangerous.*

  Tae found himself remembering when an Eastern child had insisted on keeping a wisule as a pet. The mother had resisted having the foul-smelling rodent in the house; but, seeing no harm in it, the father had built it a pen in the yard where the boy had spent hours playing with it. Frightened by a dog, the wisule had bitten the child. Within days, the boy had contracted a fiery fever and died.

  Elves did not worry about diseases; they seemed entirely unaffected by them. Given their magical nature, Kjempemagiska probably never got sick, either, thus assuring they, like elves, died only of age or violence. It certainly explained why they had population issues as well as why they focused so intently on preventing even a single casualty.

  Knowing he could learn much about the culture with a single question, Tae asked, *Dangerous? In what way?*

  *They worried Bobbin might turn on her viciously.* The answer seemed startled from Kentt. *What other way is there?* He answered his own question before Tae could. *Unless you consider the possibility she might come to love her pet like a family member, thus putting her in danger of losing perspective.*

  Tae could not help turning his gaze to Imorelda again. Given a choice between rescuing her and most humans, he would pick the cat. Of course, Imorelda is more intelligent than most humans. He addressed the point instead. *Or gaining perspective. I would maintain that learning to extend compassion beyond one’s personal household is a virtue that could only improve most societies. Imagine what new endeavors and inventions those alsona could bring to you if you allowed them to think and act freely.* It was a dangerous and unnecessary comment that Tae immediately regretted making.

  Kentt sent a huff through the contact that Tae interpreted as laughter. *Do you suppose they would use that creativity to find ways of irritating their masters?*

  *Not if the masters graciously granted that freedom and vowed to protect it.* Tae intended to add only to himself, *An apology wouldn’t hurt, either.*

  *An apology?* Tae could imagine Kentt doubled up in laughter. *Apologize for allowing them to live rather than trampling them into the dust they came from? Apologize for protecting them? Apologize for granting them the privilege of interacting with the god’s chosen ones?*

  Tae made a mental note to keep his personal thoughts in a language other than anari. However, now that he had broached the subject, he needed to address it. *I’ve been inside the minds of the alsona. They serve faithfully from fear and custom, not because they believe it a privilege to do so.*

  *Slavery does not exist here?*

  Tae thought it better not to mention how recently that ban had come about. The West had outlawed it centuries earlier, but the East had not done so until Weile Kahn had taken possession of the throne. From what Tae had read about the North, slavery was not officially sanctioned, although neighboring tribes often took captives and forced them to work as unpaid labor, usually for relatively short periods of time. *Not anymore. We came to realize the value of every intelligent creature, no matter their differences from ourselves.*

  Kentt put the conversation back on track. *So, in return for the safe return of my daughter, you ask only that I consider your point of view.*

  Tae knew he could not really leave the agreement as spoken. There was still nothing to keep Kentt from destroying the castle the moment Mistri left it. *That . . . and your promise you won’t harm us or our dwellings, even after you’ve reunited with Mistri.*

  *I can only promise for myself,* Kentt pointed out. *My rank is high, but I don’t have the authority to end a war that’s already started.*

  *Obviously.*

  Another pause ensued. Mistri took Tae’s hand, and he squeezed reassuringly.

  Kentt finally spoke, *I can promise you I won’t harm any humans or dwellings. However, I reserve the right to protect myself, and my daughter, should either of us be attacked.*

  Tae
could not keep his suspicions from becoming aroused. He always worried for the wording as well as the intention of any agreement. He could hardly argue anyone’s right to self-defense, but he would not allow a single breach to result in carte blanche for destruction. *So long as any defensive violence is directed solely at the attackers and not used as an excuse to violate all the terms of this agreement.*

  Tae realized that, once he returned Mistri, he could not stop Kentt from doing anything he pleased. The feelings wafting through their mental contact seemed genuine, yet Tae had little enough dealings with such communication to know if they could be feigned. Hiding duplicity would prove far more difficult than disguising tone of voice and body language, but Tae imagined people who had used mental communication all their lives might know how to do it.

  Kentt spoke with calm assurance, *If Mistri is given over to me unharmed, and we are not attacked, I agree to spare your people, and all of their constructions, from physical or magical harm performed by myself. If any such attack does occur, I will limit my response to those responsible. I also promise to consider the war from your human standpoint. Is that satisfactory, Tae?*

  Tae liked when the giant used his name. It suggested the Kjempemagiska saw him as an individual worthy of direct communication. *Thank you. For my part, I promise to return Mistri safely to you and will do what I can to assure no one attempts to harm you or Mistri until such time as you have rejoined your people.* Tae realized he did not have full authority in this situation. He needed to consult King Griff. *This will take a bit of time, Kentt. We have only spoken language, and we have to spread the information thoroughly and accurately. I also need to know your location.*

  *I believe it best to keep my location secret until you’ve spread the word.*

  Tae could understand Kentt’s point. Once he gave up his position, humans could quietly surround him while he waited. That left Tae wondering how Kentt had arrived on the continent without their knowledge. He doubted Mistri’s father would tell him, although it probably had something to do with the illusory fleet that the navy was currently dispatching. The Kjempemagiska had either sneaked among the fakes with a real ship or, more likely, used the distraction to swim, unnoticed, to shore. *That’s fine. I’m going to set things in motion now. Be sure to stay out of sight until I’ve explained the situation.*