~Æ~
Dieron watched the man come out of the Silky Sundry, and wondered what he was carrying. It had such a strong signature, but was not like the signature of the sisters. The energy patterns that came from it seemed to interact with the environment around it, reacting to it and altering it at the same time. Well, that was not something he needed to be troubled with. He could barely hear Lyra’s voice coming through the tavern door. It was a voice infused with magic, but would have been beautiful nonetheless. He felt quite satisfied that Lyra had succeeded in her mission. She always did. He smiled at the thought of the mean witch’s disappointment, and decided to be a little late the next time he was to deliver a message to her.
XII
To dispel the illusion of separateness can be a process of great joy, or great burden. Most lack the strength of character to direct their gaze into the will of the Fates; others are denied the choice to look away.
– The Tomes of Æhlman
As Filos neared the cave, he could hear crying. He turned the last corner to find Rhemus sitting on the ground outside the cave, sobbing and hugging his knees. Here he found a little boy, with real tears, and digging into the ground with his shoes. But the sound of the sorrow through his tears was of a depth far beyond his eight years of life. It was as if he cried not just for himself, but for a thousand men. Filos said nothing. This was not a time for words. He simply sat down next to the boy and put an arm around him, anchoring him to the physical world of stone and earth, to the crisp breeze and the songs of the sparrows. Filos knew something profound had happened, but he could wait a little while to find out what it was.
Filos stroked Rhemus’s hair as the tiny boy cried. He carried on until he had no energy left. He finally rested his head on Filos’s lap. He did not speak, but for one sentence, before drifting out of consciousness. “I killed them all.”
Filos’s hand stopped at the sound of this brutal confession. He did not know if the boy was speaking literally, or even rationally. He decided to wait a while, to be certain that Rhemus was asleep, before investigating. Something had changed. Filos could feel it. He could also feel that something had changed within him, and that the path before him had shifted. He did not know what was wrong or what they would do, but he knew at that moment that he and Rhemus would be together for a long time to come.
After several minutes, Filos heard rustling coming from the direction of the cave. He turned to see a small figure pushing through the bush. It was Dantun. Filos felt a degree of relief that his worst fears were not realised. Dantun seemed disoriented. He staggered slightly left and right, and held his hand on his head.
“Dantun,” greeted Filos softly. Dantun stopped moving. He looked up to him dazedly, with eyes of pure black.
Filos physically started at the sight of Dantun’s eyes. Before he let himself wonder at how it could be possible, he composed himself to deal with the problem at hand. “It’s all right, my friend. It’s Filos. I’m glad you are here. Rhemus lies here with me.”
Dantun suddenly shuddered and cowered in fear, putting his arms up as if to protect himself, and then dashed away into the forest.
It was time to find out what had happened in that cave. Filos gently rose from where he was seated, careful not to wake Rhemus, and walked towards the entrance.
He could barely fit through the walkway, but after twenty or so feet the ceiling began to rise. There was light coming through from ahead and, as he neared it, he could see the narrow path open into a large cavern.
At the entrance to the cavern lay two small bodies. Filos knelt over one and felt for signs of life. He was dead. Filos looked out into the cavern. There were a few torches burning at various points throughout the chasm, glimmering against the long spiral path that lead downward, deep, out of sight, into the pit. Light flickered against little bodies lying on the pathway, dozens of them. No one stirred.
“Oh, are there words to describe the pity?” Filos whispered.
He turned around to see Rhemus walking towards him. His tiny silhouette was now distinctly haunting to Filos, even frightening.
Rhemus stood next to Filos. “I would throw myself down to the bottom of this pit if I could,” he grumbled fiercely.
Filos was unsure what to think. He knelt down next to the other figure that lay by the cavern entrance.
“He is alive,” he said coolly. “Just barely, but he is alive.”
Rhemus looked at the man on the floor. “You are right. How could this be?”
Then Rhemus turned back towards the pit. “There are more,” he said. “There are many. Most are dead, but many survived, or have come back.”
“What do you mean?” asked Filos.
“When I walked out of the cave, I passed every one of the people who live here. They were all dead. I was sure of it. But something has changed.”
Filos opened an eyelid of the Mikraino on the ground to find pure black pearly eyes staring unconsciously.
Rhemus looked at the Mikraino for a long moment, and said firmly, “I must go now.”
XIII
A man with the truth is a saviour to one who knows nothing but lies,
as a man with bread is a saviour to one who knows nothing but hunger. Of the two, the man with the bread is stronger.
– Rudolph Theron, Army Officer under King Arconus
General Theron walked through the streets of Jayden, followed by his men who were carrying loads of food and trinkets looted from their recent demolition of Anderath. All of the soldiers were dressed in civilian clothes. Confused crowds slowly started gathering by the roadside as they passed. Theron smiled and waved. He pulled a silver necklace from his vest and paused to place it gingerly on the neck of an old woman. The woman cringed as he approached, but when she realised Theron meant her no harm, and indeed had given her such a beautiful gift, she smiled and blushed. Theron felt his execution had been perfect, a well-seen gesture and first impression. His men then began throwing trinkets, bread and potatoes into the crowd, all of which were greedily gathered by the citizens of Jayden. Theron and his men were accepted as heroes, the King’s soldiers who had procured the ill-gotten gains from the culprits of the destruction of Anderath, and they were there to protect Jayden from a similar fate.
It was now time to speak with the mayor.
~Æ~
“General, welcome. Please sit and tell us what we can do to make the soldiers of the King as comfortable as possible. Shall I arrange quarters for your men?” inquired Mayor Jenkins, politely. The mayor was a fair politician, but he was having trouble holding his nerve. After hearing about the carnage at Anderath, he couldn’t be sure what was to become of him, or his town. Anderath had been completely destroyed and its inhabitants butchered. Five men were crucified in front of their own homes, their families dead in front of them. He had received word from the capital that help was on the way in case the perpetrators had similar designs for Jayden, but the King’s motives were always suspect. Perhaps the Mayor of Anderath had received a similar message.
“No, good mayor. That will not be necessary. We would not impose on the people of your town for quarters. The people of Jayden are generous to offer what little they have, but we would not think of taking from your meagre rations. We have come to relieve your suffering and to protect your people. My men will make camp on the south side of your town. We have ample supplies. Now I must speak with you about matters of some secrecy.”
The mayor nodded to his officers, indicating they were to leave the mayor’s modest office in the back of the town hall. Theron’s men left with them. Mayor Jenkins was sweating profusely. It was a terrible affliction. As an overweight man, he already sweated more than most, but when he was nervous it was far worse, which made him more nervous, which made him sweat more. He was very embarrassed.
“Mayor, the King is impressed with the handling of your duties in this town.”
“My thanks to His Highness, the Most Excellent Arconus,” he stammered. He must take control
of this situation, he thought, sweaty or not. There could be opportunity here. “He is a great King!”
“Indeed, he is, and will continue to be with the loyalty of good men such as yourself.”
“The King has my undivided loyalty, I assure you. In fact, it is my ambition one day to serve him in closer proximity.”
“Is that so?” Theron asked slowly.
“A tragedy, what happened in Anderath,” the mayor remarked with a not quite believable compassion.
“Yes, a tragedy,” Theron responded. “What have you heard as to who might have been responsible for this tragedy?”
“Yes, well ...” Jenkins trod carefully. “Well, sir, we just heard rumours, you understand, no one can know what the truth of the matter is ...”
“Get to the point, Jenkins,” Theron prodded.
“Yes, sir, well, we heard rumours that it was King’s soldiers who attacked Anderath. Ah, but they were dressed in uniform, not like you and your men. I certainly didn’t mean to imply ...”
“That we might have committed such a vile crime?” Theron finished the mayor’s sentence for him in a cold, but inquisitive tone.
“Yes, sir. I mean no, sir,” Jenkins bumbled. “I mean, of course you would never have done such a thing. I didn’t mean to imply that ...” Jenkins stopped, took a breath to compose himself, and tried to explain again.
“The story, as reported to us from Kraal, is that Anderath was attacked by soldiers of the King dressed in full uniform. Oh ...” Jenkins perked up, glad to have some proof of Theron’s innocence, “and Gastious was with them.”
“Yes mayor, Gastious was with them. He has turned traitor to the King, and now considers General Riley to be his leader.”
“General Riley?” the mayor exclaimed. “He is one of the most popular of the King’s men. He has been here many times and has always been generous. The people of Jayden think very highly of him. Are you sure?”
The mayor paused, realising his mistake. “My apologies, general. I did not mean to doubt ...” he stopped speaking as Theron raised his hand to halt him.
“Let me make this clear, Mayor Jenkins. The King has inherited a land in turmoil. The people of this country have been betrayed, lied to and exploited by one pretender on the throne after another. It is time to come together under the true king, King Arconus.”
“Here, here,” effused Jenkins, pounding the table in exclamation.
Theron nodded. “Arconus is a great King and will rule for many years. He will bring peace and prosperity to Jeandania and secure the future of our land. But this will take time.”
“Of course, General Theron, of course it will take time,” the mayor agreed.
“Yes, Mayor Jenkins, it will take time to build this country to the heights of our ambition. But these first, formative years present many challenges, and we must face them aggressively.”
The mayor stared at Theron, still nodding, but not sure where the conversation was heading.
“The people of Jeandania must come together as one, under one leader,” Theron continued. “We must teach our citizens that they are a part of a whole, that we must all work together and that we must follow our King. Otherwise, we will never reach our goals.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” the mayor agreed.
“But there are those who do not follow. There are those who put their own ambitions above those of their brethren. There are citizens who refuse to obey the rule of law, and there are people who seek to usurp the throne, as we all witnessed in the treacherous clan rebellion led by General Santaque.”
“Of course, general. This kind of sedition cannot be tolerated.” The mayor’s tone was growing softer.
“The building of a great nation sometimes requires great sacrifices and it sometimes requires extraordinary means.”
“Yes?”
“By order of the King, it was we who destroyed Anderath.”
The mayor stared blankly at the general.
“Let me explain. General Riley has been plotting to overthrow the King for some time. The general is very popular. It is essential that not only is the general defeated, but that his reputation is ruined. A martyr can be a much more powerful foe than a living general.”
The mayor nodded slowly.
“Mayor Jenkins, the King is calling upon you for your support. You will announce to your citizens the foul crimes Riley has committed against the innocent people of Anderath. He invaded for provisions and loot, and killed everyone in the town to cover his tracks. You will tell them that we have faced them, only two days ago, where the general and his men ran like cowards at the first sign of confrontation. This is how we recovered their loot and graciously gave it to the people of Jayden. You will tell your people that Riley and his men will soon run out of food, and will come here with the intention of burning your town, killing your men and raping your women, just as they did in Anderath. Some may even be crucified!
“Explain that Riley will not be expecting me and my men to be here waiting for them. On the eve of their arrival, we will break camp and await them in plain clothes on the rooftops and in the streets of your town. We will be your saviours, and we will vanquish the evil traitor, General Riley.”
The mayor was sweating again. He had lied to his people so often it was little different to him than telling the truth. But this? How could he manage this? He would have to try. His choice was to help the King and rise in station, or refuse and die, perhaps on the cross. There was no choice.
~Æ~
Liam forced himself to take another step. The Bok were still on their trail. The beasts had a careless confidence in their tracking, and could sometimes be heard laughing behind them.
Liam thought that the young soldiers had fought and fled with impressive skill at the Bok encampment. Bantur and Rantte were lost, but no others had been injured. They had now been walking for twelve hours, and all of the Talons were exhausted. The Bok seemed tireless.
They were nearing the Taiandathan River now, though, and that offered some hope for their escape. A man could not be tracked through water, and Blade had said he knew of a place up river where they could camp.
Then, without warning, a windcat, five times the size of a man, burst from the trees and grabbed Rhoie in its mouth. There was nothing Liam or anyone else could have done. Liam saw only a flash of heaving muscle under the tight skin of the windcat’s shoulder, and Rhoie was gone.
Liam charged after them.
~Æ~
Sinead and Viebke both reached out for Brandi as she lurched forward from the bench onto the floor of the carriage.
“What is it, dear?” Viebke asked tenderly, as they placed her back in her seat.
“My father and Rhoie. Something has happened.”
“Death?” Viebke asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” she said, and took a deep breath. “But fear and great sadness. Anger.”
She buried her head in her hands and tried to hold back the tears. “What has happened to them? What is happening to me?”
Viebke held her and stroked her hair. “It is okay to be afraid, Brandi. You will learn to master your new vision and your new powers. It will take time, and then you will learn how they can help you. You will not always be afraid.”
“I hate these visions. I don’t want them. I just want to go back to my father’s house, and back to Rhoie, the way it was.”
“My dear,” said Viebke, “you know that is impossible. Your father’s home is occupied by the local magistrate. The tavern is no longer there. Your father and Rhoie are running for their lives, and we must help them.”
“How?”
“The Oracle told you have an important role to play. In time it will come to you.”
“I don’t even know where we are going or what I am supposed to do when we get there.”
“We are heading south, Brandi, as the Oracle directed. She feels the problem before you is something you must discover for yourself, and I know you will. You must trust in the Ora
cle. She has placed a great deal of faith in you by directing Sinead and I to come along with you. It is no small thing to send away the future Keeper of the Stones and the Eldest Sister on such a mission. You have quickly become an integral part of our Sisterhood, and in the will of the fates.”
“Why?” Brandi whispered. “All I did was die.”
“Not all, Brandi,” answered Viebke. “You also came back, and that is what makes you special. Now listen, let’s get our minds off what we cannot control, and set our minds to things we can. We still have another half day before our first stop. Let us get back to our lessons. You are both coming along so quickly, I am truly impressed. Today I will teach you how to make a person forget. It is very useful for concealing your identity, or keeping valuable information secret upon accidental discovery, but it only works on about the last eighteen seconds of memory, which is about the limit of a person’s ability for total recall. That is the area of the mind one must target ...”
XIV
Sometimes it is not easy to tell whether a civilisation is controlled by its rulers or by its businessmen, but it is a certainty that one cannot survive without the other.
– Generally attributed to Verkleet
Argus was not happy, but not surprised, that his efforts at capturing the message box had failed. There was little hope that a hired assassin, even a good one, might outwit the Æhlman Sisterhood. Still, he could sense it out there somewhere. The Sisterhood was stirring, and he was certain they had played a role in the Bearer’s escape. He needed to know what was happening to ensure that he was correctly positioned when the next stone was placed. He sat in his bedroom, looking through his large windows to the palace towers reaching above the city walls against the starlit sky. The will of the fates was always a hazy mire for Argus, but here and there along the path were guideposts. The Æhlman Message Box was one of them and, one way or another, he knew he would find it. This, he believed, was the will of the fates, and the key to returning to power.
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