The general nodded.
“Can I ask a question?” said Darryck. “How did all these people know to come here? I mean, I’ve been asking around and some of these people were on their way here months before the trial.”
“Lyra?” directed Liam.
“Yes,” Lyra responded. “Well, it was Brandi, mainly. She was able to convince people to pick up their things and come here. Because of her experience with death, she was also able to communicate with the deceased relatives of some of the people.”
“She talks to the dead?” asked Darryck.
“Not exactly, but close enough. She also has a certain gift of foresight. She knew her father would come here.”
“Even before Liam knew he was coming?”
“It was written in the fates,” answered Rhemus. “I can see it now, but I could not see it before.”
Darryck thought for a moment. “Is the winner of this war written in the fates?”
“Everything is,” answered Rhemus.
“So who’s going to win?”
“That is not something I can see.”
“Indeed, the fates sometimes seem to have a cruel sense of humour,” remarked Maurious. “We can see much, but never the full picture. The fates tease us. But let us focus on what we do know, what we can control. I would like to get back to the topic of weapons, sir, if we may.”
“Yes, Maurious,” answered Liam.
“I noticed on the mountain, that the Edelroot is in bloom,” Maurious continued.
“That thick bush with the red flowers?” Liam asked.
“Yes, it produces a potent poison. If I can find the right ingredients, I think I can come up with a use for it.”
“Okay, Maurious, you are in charge of ...” Liam couldn’t think of a proper way to describe the position.
“Defensive botany?” came a shrill voice from the doorway, and then a cackle of laughter. A moment later Verkleet walked into the room, with Blade behind him.
“Verkleet?” Liam asked, stunned to see him. He walked over to embrace his old cellmate.
“And Blade.”
He embraced the leader of the Talons of Freedom as well.
Darryck was quite emotional to see his leader alive. “Blade, sir. This seat belongs to you. Please,” he said and offered his chair at the council table.
“Nonsense,” answered Liam. “There is space enough. I need you both. Blade, please have a seat. Darryck, you too.”
Maurious stood. “Father, perhaps you should take my seat.”
“Why thank you, my son,” answered Verkleet, “but I have not been invited. This seat belongs to you.”
“Son? Father? Well, Verkleet,” Liam interjected, “three days ago I was certain I had lost my ability to be surprised at anything. By Katchek’s beard, I was wrong. Please, sir, join us. There is room for you at our table.”
Verkleet nodded, smiling and enthusiastic.
“And now we are ten,” Rhemus said, satisfied.
Liam thought it a strange thing to say, but found that he too felt the council to be complete.
“Gentlemen,” Liam said to Verkleet and Blade. “We are glad to have you here. I’m sure you will be needed. It is just a matter of finding how best you can help us.”
“I am anxious to return to my men,” Blade said, “by your leave, of course, sir.”
Liam respectfully looked to Darryck, for his consent. Darryck nodded without hesitation. “Darryck has led your men ably over the last weeks, Blade, but I have in mind a series of duties that will take up a great deal of his time. I’m certain your men will be glad to have you in charge once again.”
Liam stood back reflectively. “Verkleet, perhaps this would be a good time to give us a bit of family history. We will get to the details in time, but perhaps you can give us an overview? Who are you really, and why are you here?”
“Ha, ha, yes, secrets and surprises. It’s all good fun. But you, Liam Foster, are to be king, and you deserve better from your loyal subjects.”
Verkleet stood and bowed deeply in Liam’s direction and said, “Liam Foster, I humbly submit myself to your service. I vow to do everything in my power to help you defeat Arconus.”
Liam took a moment, and then replied, “Thank you, Verkleet. Your allegiance truly honours me.”
Verkleet stood tall and smiled at him with genuine affection, “The honour is mine.”
He sat down again and explained, “As you know, Maurious is my son. So is Argus, whose allegiance is to his own ambition, and currently his ambition is aligned with Arconus’s. I think he’s trying to manoeuvre himself into the best position to gain power for himself. The Æhlman sisters believe that we’re nearing the time of the Hundred Years’ King. No one really knows exactly what that means.
“You see, I’ve been alive now for over three thousand years. I was born during the decline of the Walvaai. As far as I know, I was the last to be able to produce offspring. Likely this was our own doing. We started tinkering with our DNA to make us live longer and to increase our powers.”
“What is DNA?” asked Blade.
Verkleet smiled at him. “DNA is the code for life. The code is just a little bit different for each of us, and does much to determine the kind of person each of us will be. It’s a string of billions and billions of little chemicals strung together like a spiral staircase ...”
“Father,” Maurious interrupted, “perhaps you can finish this explanation to Blade in private. I think Mr Foster is more interested in an overview of our history, not an overview of genetic chemistry.”
“Ha, ha, you are correct, Maurious. You know me, always wanting to show off. Let me summarise. We Walvaai live a long time, but not forever. I think myself, Maurious and Argus are the last. We have fought together, and against each other, many times over the centuries in many wars. Most of the time, it wasn’t personal. It was only that our interests manifested in different arenas. It was always a challenge to see who would emerge on the winning side. Lives of men and women were always sacrificed on both sides. We always considered it a tragic, sad aspect of humanity. But so it was in the world of men, and so it continues. Somewhere along the line Argus became quite bitter at the madness of men. He considers them to be terribly primitive, and not worthy to dominate the world as they do now.”
“He may have a point,” said Liam.
“Ha, ha, ha! This is why I love this man,” Verkleet cackled. Then he composed himself. He was clearly trying to be respectful and deferential, but he could not overcome giving the impression that he was having a great deal of fun.
“Excuse me,” he continued. “Yes, sir, he may have a point. But Maurious and I have a different point of view. I stand under correction, but I think I speak for both of us when I say we have accepted that the time of the Walvaai is long past. Now is the age of man. We still have a deep and enduring love for this world and all that inhabits it, and a deep curiosity about how it all fits together. I’m not sure if I believe the theory I’m about to tell you, but I like it. It is the theory that this life is merely a temporary organisation of energy and mass that carries with it information from the world of light, the deathworld that your daughter is in contact with. It has to do with the insurmountable nature of the speed of light ...”
“Father,” Maurious interrupted.
“My apologies. Let me summarise by saying that Maurious and I believe that the weight of the good or evil you do in this world matters, and we would like to move things towards the better in whatever way we can. This is why we support you, Liam Foster. We feel you can save this country, and do your part to improve this world.”
Verkleet turned to Maurious and smiled affectionately. “Is this a fair assessment, my son?”
Maurious smiled back, “Yes, father.”
Liam was awed, inspired and humbled, but he held to Maurious’s advice. He needed to exude strength and confidence, rather than the weakness he felt in the face of such wisdom and power. He must take strength from these words
, rather than be intimidated by them. He decided it would be a good time to ask a question that had been bothering him.
“Verkleet,” he asked, “were you really in that cell for twenty-seven years?”
“Ha, ha, ha! Yes, I was,” he answered. “I had grown tired of the fight, and I could see no sign of anything changing anytime soon. Being in the towers actually kept me close to the action, though. I was able to keep abreast of things. Like I said, I really had nothing else to do at the time. So I took a break, until I met you.”
Liam chuckled. “Well, let’s hope your judgment is as strong as your spirit, my friend. I am truly grateful to have you with us.”
“Hear, hear,” said Blade. “He saved my life.”
Verkleet winked at Blade, and said, “Well, enough about me. We have work to do.”
“Yes, indeed,” agreed Liam. “Verkleet, one more question. We are trying to sort out the history of this place, to see if there are ways to exploit the architecture to our advantage. Do you know anything about the Euchadorians?”
“I don’t know a great deal. This place was built even before my time. Quite good construction, wouldn’t you say? The Euchadorians were brilliant architects, and they loved water. But I believe there are secrets to be found here if one were to look closely enough.”
“You say they loved the water?” Filos interrupted. “This could be important. There is plenty of water flowing in the river at the bottom of the canyon, but it would take a great deal of manpower to pump it up here, and I don’t know if we would be able to access it if we are trapped in a siege. I’ve been studying the structure of this place. It seems to me that water flowed freely even through its very walls at one time. I believe it flowed through the strange trenches you see all through the palace, such as this one,” Filos stood up to point to a shallow trench at the back of the room behind the conference table. “Perhaps it was pumped up from the river below, or there may be another source.”
“An underground river?” asked Rhemus.
“Perhaps,” answered Filos.
“Sir, if I may,” offered Verkleet. “I believe it would behove us to explore the palace as extensively as possible. May I recommend we enlist Richard Ban’hoen for the position?”
“Richard Ban’hoen?” Liam wondered aloud. “Why him?”
“Because he is a Ban’hoen. They have served the castle at Kraal for generations. They are familiar with the basic architecture of castles, how they are built, and where things are hidden.”
“All right,” Liam answered. “I will send him with you to explore the grounds.”
Verkleet smiled brightly.
Maurious interjected, “We must not underestimate Argus. As disappointed as I am about his view of the world, he is a very intelligent and dangerous man.”
“I will handle Argus,” Verkleet offered, now serious. “I believe that is my true role in all of this.”
Maurious looked at his father quizzically, and then changed the topic again. “I’d like to resume my true calling while I’m here. I’m a healer. I’d like to serve in this capacity for the city. The Mikraino have agreed to help, and some of the women and the older men. However, should it become necessary, I will also stand ready to face my brother.”
“I believe that we have begun preparing for our ordeal in the best way we can. We all have a lot of work ahead of us, and not much time. Let’s get started,” Liam said.
~Æ~
Rhoie walked next to Travis and Maclamar, about a hundred paces behind King Arconus’s carriage. They were surrounded by the King’s army of soldiers and conscripts, marching towards Sarhani to fight. Another man hung from another noose by the side of the road. Men dangling from gallows was becoming commonplace. This one must have been there for a few days. His face was black, and his tongue stuck out to the side. He hung awkwardly, his feet turned inward. His shoulders were hunched, an eternal gesture of humiliation. Around his neck was the familiar sign, ‘Traitor’. This was another man who had tried to flee the ranks of Arconus to join Liam. Surrounding his body were several long pikes with heads impaled on their ends; the traitor’s family. Rhoie had heard that the King had been forced to start beheading rather than hanging because they could not erect enough gallows to keep pace with number of men caught trying to follow Liam to Sarhani.
Rhoie mused about the options before him, somewhere between fantasising and planning. He observed the other ‘volunteers’ ahead of him. He wondered who would be faithful to the King, and who would turn their heads if he mounted his own attack. Over and over he plotted his steps, picking his way through the caravan, outsmarting the guards or cutting their throats on a path to the King. His last step would be to assassinate Arconus. The King was so very close to him, he thought there must be a way. He could stop the war before it started. Blade himself had told him that assassinating a king was possible, as long as the assassin was willing to sacrifice his own life.
“Calm down there, Polly,” said Travis.
“You look like you’re about ready to take on the King by yourself,” added Maclamar.
“I am,” Rhoie answered with clenched teeth, “and I must say, I’m getting a little sick of being called Polly.”
Maclamar answered in a casual tone, but his sincerity could not be mistaken. “I’ll stop calling you Polly when you show me that you have picked up the slightest notion of what it takes to win a country.”
Rhoie looked at him incredulously. “What do you care about the winning of a country, smuggler, except what it means to your own profit?”
“You insult only yourself, now, Polly,” he answered.
“We walk with the enemy,” Rhoie protested.
Maclamar did not answer.
After an awkward silence, Travis offered, “We do not truly walk with the King, nor do many in this army. We walk with Liam, as did that man on the gallows.”
Rhoie sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. These bodies are getting to me. We’re just so close. I wish there was more we could do.”
“There comes a time when every man must prove himself. Your time is still ahead of you, Rhoie. Don’t be too anxious for the opportunity,” said Maclamar, and walked ahead of the two.
~Æ~
Lyra stopped by the small warehouse where the Edelroot was being prepared.
Kaila was there, helping the other women with the task of converting the plant into deadly weapons.
“How are things?” Lyra asked.
“All is going well,” she answered. “The King’s army is behind schedule. I believe we will finish before they arrive.”
“Very good, Kaila. Please keep working as you are. Our success depends on you.”
Kaila smiled. “Thank you, Lyra.”
Lyra looked on a while and chatted with the ladies while they laboured. Kaila worked patiently, stopping occasionally to guide the other women in their tasks. Lyra was relieved at the way these women seemed to accept Kaila now. Lyra felt as if she were fairly well accepted also, in spite of her status as an Æhlman Sister. She knew Brandi had much to do with this. Half of the people here came because of her, and because they had seen her remarkable powers. Their minds were already opened to a much bigger world than was commonly acknowledged.
She had been told by some of the more recent arrivals that Arconus was calling on all of Jeandania to destroy ‘Foster’s army of the black toils’. It was a frightening thought. Even if they were to somehow win this war, there would be many left in Jeandania with even deeper prejudices and misconceptions than there were now.
Lyra carried on to the north, uphill of the castle grounds. It was a good fifteen minute walk to reach the tunnels where Filos, Verkleet and Richard were working. She paused in her walk to look down on the training grounds. The number of trainees grew every day and Riley was making progress. The recruits ranged from expert soldiers to overweight bakers and wheelers. Lyra watched the men move through their exercises. They lunged, side-stepped, spun and thrust; all in unison. To Lyra’s musical mind,
it seemed a great dance choreographed by General Riley. It was beautiful and disturbing at the same time, as each thrust was a practise for murder.
Lyra tried to enjoy the fresh air and the beautiful sky, but it was difficult for her. She was unaccustomed to her role as a part of a rebellion. As a swain sister, little had been required of her through most of her life. She had always considered herself one of the lesser members of the Sisterhood; inconsequential. She was not meant for, nor interested in, politics or power.
What a strange position she found herself in now. She was taught, as were all of her sisters, that the fates had a plan for everyone. The Sisterhood tried to be aware of those plans and direct their own activities accordingly. Of course, the will of the Sisterhood and the will of the fates were merely two aspects of the same design. This was one of their most important mantras, but what was happening now? Why had the fates chosen this path for her? She was in love with Liam Foster. This was mysterious and difficult enough. She never longed for love. She had always cared for Liam, but always kept her distance, afraid to get too close, not knowing when or why the Sisterhood would call for her. Until a few months ago, she had only loved to sing. Now she knew she would give up her very voice for Liam. It was the most horrible and most beautiful truth she had ever known.
She knew now that the fates, and perhaps even the Sisterhood, had much more in store for her than she had ever dreamed. To be in love with the man who would change the world. How could a woman be so stupid? How could a girl resist? Oh, but it was never so simple, she thought. She had fallen in love with Liam, not with the leader of the rebellion. But how could one separate the man from his history? It was not his status or his authority that commanded her love. But what she loved in him were the very same qualities that gave him his status and his authority. There was a song she used to sing, which never had much meaning for her before, but now the words seemed very wise.
I love the man you are
Not what you have attained,
But it is the man you are
Whom by rights attained this fate
With Footfalls of Shadow Page 38