With Footfalls of Shadow

by Donogan Sawyer

  If I could have you to myself

  If I could but take you away

  You would lose the fate and I would lose the man

  Whom I love more than light of day

  She had reached the cavern now and saw Filos emerging from its mouth, Richard close behind him. He raised his hand in greeting and hurriedly walked to meet her. “Hello, fair lady.”

  “Hello, Filos. How have you been progressing?”

  “Very well,” he answered. “I believe we might have solved our water problems.”

  “How so?”

  “Richard traced the path of the waterways backward to its source,” he answered. “It was closed off many years ago, but I believe it should still function. If so, we should have it running by this evening.”

  “That is wonderful news, Filos. Very well done, Mr Ban’hoen.”

  Richard bowed low in response. Lyra curtsied back, and smiled.

  “I wonder if you might sing this evening, Lyra?” Filos asked. “If we’re correct, we might be able to provide an exceptional backdrop for you.”

  “I’ll have to check with Liam, but I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve found.”

  ~Æ~

  All had assembled in front of the palace. Liam sat against a tree close to the entrance. The new citizens of Sarhani filled the courtyard all around him. He sat with Brandi snuggled up against him. He did not care if it did not look kingly. They were joined by Maurious, Blade, Riley, Verkleet, Rhemus and Kaila. Filos and Richard were busy completing the process to open the aqueduct. They had promised that it would be a remarkable sight. As dusk settled in on their little community, Lyra walked onto the platform in front of the palace. She had been entertaining the residents of Sarhani with impromptu performances regularly over the last several weeks. Tonight, Liam had felt it might be a good boost to morale to have everyone gathered, and hopefully share in some success. The people had worked hard preparing for battle, and turning these ruins into a liveable, even pleasant, habitat. Verkleet effused at the marvels that were to come when they opened the old aqueduct. Liam did not expect much, but he hoped his people would enjoy it, and that Lyra would appreciate a special venue at which to perform.

  First he heard a distant creak, and a crack, and the faraway, unmistakable sound of running water. He could hear it approaching slowly, but persistently, for nearly a minute. And then the water began to fall. It seeped out from above the doors of the castle, and fell in a thin curtain to the ground, where it did not splash. Astonishingly, the stone steps seemed to swallow up the water. Liam stood up and saw that water was beginning to fill the odd trenches that ran through the entire castle. One ran beside the palace steps. Liam walked over to it and watched as it filled slowly. He was certain it was about to overflow, but it did not. He reached down with his hands and scooped up some of the water. It was cool and clear. He took a sip, and splashed the rest over his face. Everyone was watching him.

  “We have water,” he announced and put his hands in the air.

  The crowd cheered, and then bustled about. Liam could see them break into groups around where the trenches ran. He wondered if the trenches throughout the whole castle were filled. He looked again to the doorway where Lyra was getting ready to sing. She was also taken by the water. She ran her fingers under the thin sheen that fell around her. Liam could now see more clearly the shape of the waterfall. The seams from which the water fell were not in a flat plane, but rather formed two wavy patterns, one on each side of Lyra. The water seemed to fold in on itself, giving the impression of curtains drawn apart.

  “The Euchadorians surely were an impressive lot,” remarked Maurious.

  “I told you so,” laughed Verkleet. “Didn’t I tell you so?”

  Lyra finally began to sing. The crowd was mesmerised by her voice. Liam sat down again with Brandi. He could almost forget the circumstances that led to their presence here at Sarhani. For the moment, it felt to Liam as if they were all just gathered at a beautiful venue to watch a wondrous performance. He had seen Lyra sing many times before, but it had never sounded like this. He didn’t know if it was the acoustics of the outdoor setting, or if it was just the moment, or if it was simply because he was in love with her.

  He grabbed Brandi near to him. “Have you ever heard anything so beautiful?”

  “No, daddy, never, and I have never seen anything so beautiful as what I see between the two of you.”

  Liam stared back at Brandi for a moment, then chuckled softly. “So I guess that means you approve?”

  “You two should have been together years ago, but it couldn’t happen until all the rest of this happened,” she answered.

  Liam did not need to see into the deathworld to understand that she was probably right. He could hear the tension in her voice, but he did not ask why until the performance had ended, an hour later.

  “Did you enjoy it, Brandi?” he finally asked.

  “As much as I could have,” she answered.

  “You are worried?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think I know what you are trying not to tell me,” he said.

  “What would that be?”

  “Arconus’s army is near.”

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  Liam shrugged. “I can’t see into the next world as you can, my dear. I suppose I see as an old soldier. It’s in the air, somehow. They come tomorrow.”

  XL

  In the nature of man, there is nothing so evil and wicked as war, nor anything so pure and noble as the willingness to die for a belief.

  – The Tomes of Æhlman

  Brandi sat alone in her room, trying to gather her strength for the days ahead. She had breakfasted with her father and Lyra on the veranda of Liam’s beautiful quarters overlooking the garden. It had been a sorely needed tonic for her. The comfort and stability of her daily routine at her father’s house and his tavern in Snake’s Mouth were a world away, but while Brandi sat with her father and Lyra she was able to take comfort in her father’s presence and his happiness in his new love. What she understood intuitively as a normal woman before, was now much more visceral. It was not a notion that there was something good about what was happening between Lyra and her father, it was a certainty about the positive force they were contributing to the æther. It was a beautiful thing to see them together, and a joy to be a part of it. She knew Liam’s love for her, as his daughter, had the same power, and it was a sensation that gave her incredible strength.

  This was the nature of her new gift. Most of what Viebke had taught her was merely a series of tricks. She could manipulate things by following Viebke’s instructions, and feeling her way through it, but she didn’t really understand what was happening. However, her connection with the deathworld gave her insight far beyond anyone in the Sisterhood in certain areas. Death was her realm, and she knew much death was coming. This terrified her. She knew that she would go through the deaths of all who were near her. She would see the transition from mortal to spirit of each and every casualty of this war. She would see the energy pass out into the Everything, and she would feel the weight of positive or negative energy that each brought with him to the next world. She was not sure if she would be able to cope.

  But she would not just sit back and hope for the best. That was not her nature. She began to dress for battle.

  ~Æ~

  Liam took a deep breath of morning air as he, and most of his people, gathered atop the palace walls. Liam walked to the space above the city gates, and leaned on the balustrade to survey the courtyard. The early sun cast long shadows across ancient gardens, resplendent now in reds, pinks and purples. The untamed foliage had been pruned by some of the older people in their spare time, and now he imagined it looked much like the mysterious builders of this place must have wanted it to look. He spotted the tree where he had sat the night before. After the concert, he had told everyone to go back to their apartments and rest, and to enjoy themselves in whatever way they could. He had met
the performer back stage, and had spent the night with her. A lovely night had passed. He had slept until dawn. He had a pleasant breakfast with his daughter and Lyra. He kissed them both, and then rose to prepare for war.

  Liam turned from his view of the courtyard, stepped across the stone floor and peered out across the plain from where an army would come to kill him. He looked around and took great comfort that he was surrounded by the same friends as the night before. Liam fingered the water flowing through the aqueduct in front of him. It was incredible to him that the water flowed even here atop the wall. He had yet to see it himself, but apparently the flow of water beneath the palace churned a giant wheel, with water carrying vessels on them which filled up at the bottom of their cycle, then emptied at the top over and over again, feeding the aqueducts at higher levels. Richard’s discovery of the source of the aqueduct system had solved perhaps the most difficult logistical problem they had faced upon arrival. Now no one would go thirsty. Richard had also recognised that messages could be passed from one part of the palace to another through the different channels. Liam picked a flower that was growing in a crack in the stone and dropped it into the water. Perhaps a young woman, even Lyra, might find it floating along a corridor and pick it up, improving her day a little.

  “Such potential in man to create,” Liam sighed, “and to destroy.”

  “Riders approaching, sir,” said Riley.

  Three riders on horseback galloped across the field towards them.

  “He sends a flag bearer, a general, and a third,” observed Riley. “It’s Theron himself. It seems the little scum-sucking amphibian has been promoted.”

  “Amphibian?” Filos inquired with a raised eyebrow.

  “I don’t like amphibians – slimy, live in the mud, half-lizard, half-fish – disgusting.”

  “That does suit Theron’s character,” Filos said, nodding approvingly.

  “Who is the third rider?” asked Liam.

  “A scribe,” answered Maurious. “Arconus is a master of propaganda. A scribe lends credibility, even if he’s not true to the words of the exchange. He’ll also want this recorded for history. The first salvo will not come from swords but from the lips of the general.”

  “Undoubtedly,” replied Liam.

  Finally the horses neared. The low rumble of the horses’ hooves became a loud clattering as they trotted over the stone surface of the arena. The riders stopped before the palace gates, facing Liam. The flag bearer then ceremoniously tilted the flag and bowed low. His horse stretched forward as well, lowering its head and lifting one hoof from the ground. Theron and the scribe did the same thing.

  Liam bowed in return.

  Then Theron announced with great ceremony, “The King addresses the rebel leader, Liam Foster!” Theron’s voice was clear and authoritative. “Liam Foster. You have raised an army against your King. You are a vile traitor to your King and to your country.”

  Liam’s men booed and hissed at the accusation.

  Theron continued, “The penalty for treason is execution.”

  “You already tried that, general,” someone yelled, causing the whole camp to burst into laughter, with many men offering their own insults.

  “In your case, Liam Foster, the King has decided to be lenient, in an effort to spare these good citizens of Jeandania. The King remembers your trial and understands that the fates have spared you. He offers to spare you once more if you agree to excommunication.”

  More protests were returned.

  Theron shouted over them, “And this remains the only hope for the men who now fight in your name.”

  The protests grew a little quieter.

  “All assembled here are traitors, and by rights should be executed, but the King is offering you a chance. You have been misled by this man, and the magicians with whom he keeps company. You have all been confused by this false leader and bewitched by means of the black toils!” continued Theron. “For this reason, the King is willing to forgive you. You may quit this false rebellion, and this false leader, and return to King Arconus. If you do, all will be forgiven. You have until this evening to decide your fate.”

  Theron bowed, and readied himself to leave.

  “You can have your answer now, Theron,” Liam called.

  Theron paused to listen.

  “You have all heard this offer,” Liam said to his followers. “The King promises that you will be forgiven if you return to him now.”

  A few men started laughing.

  “The King’s word is his bond,” Theron responded.

  “Let us assume, friends,” Liam continued, “that the King is indeed being honest in his offer.” A few more laughed, but then all paid attention to Liam. “I leave it to you. I give every one of you control over your destiny, and mine, and the destiny of Jeandania herself.”

  Liam swept his outstretched arm slowly across the whole of his army. “Should any one of you give me the word. I will leave this place right now. I will accept excommunication, and leave you to Arconus’s mercy.”

  Silence.

  “I offer you one last time. Any single one of you here can give me the order. We are all one. We fight together, or not at all.”

  Still no one spoke.

  “There is your answer, Theron. Go and tell your master. We fight for Jeandania!”

  Liam’s men erupted with a great shout. The flag bearer looked to Theron for a signal, and Theron nodded. The flag bearer then waved the King’s pendant back and forth, signalling Foster’s answer to the camp.

  “That was a helluva speech, sir,” General Riley said, putting his hand on Liam’s shoulder.

  Liam was breathing hard and trying not to shake. “What was it that I said?” he asked.

  Theron turned to Liam again. “Liam Foster!”

  “I guess he isn’t finished with you, yet,” observed General Riley.

  Liam leaned over the balustrade slightly and nodded.

  “This arena before you was built by an ancient race in a more civilised time,” explained Theron with a surprising tone of reverence, as the scribe furiously scribbled. “Rules of battle were devised to settle matters of kingdoms between soldiers; sparing women, children, and the elderly.”

  “Interesting move,” muttered Riley.

  “Brilliant,” said Maurious.

  “What is he doing?” asked Liam.

  “Liam Foster,” Theron continued, “as the King’s army prepares for war against you, you must be aware that you cannot withstand such a force for long. Although the great King Arconus has repeatedly demonstrated his benevolence and mercy, these are not traits common to soldiers. You know the nature of such men yourself, Foster. You may withstand a siege for a week, or perhaps a month, but eventually we will break down your walls. Then the King’s mighty army will swarm over your people. Innocents will surely die.”

  “Benevolent and merciful?” questioned Riley.

  “Those words are not written for us,” said Filos. “They were written for later historians.”

  “Well, general,” Liam answered. “It is true we have many families here, because the fathers who came to fight for me knew Arconus would torture and slay their wives and children, for spite, if nothing else.”

  A murmur of agreement passed through Liam’s ranks.

  “I suppose they’ll have to strike that comment from the record,” observed Blade.

  “So what does the King propose?” Liam asked.

  “Every day,” Theron answered. “One of our armies will send no more than five hundred soldiers into the arena with weapons of their choosing. The other will have one half hour to respond with an equal number of soldiers of its own. A flag bearer will stand, each on one side of the arena, representing each of the armies. Either side may concede at any time by raising his flag, at which point the horn will blow and the battle will end for the day. This will go on until the war, itself, is conceded. Or would you prefer a siege, Mr Foster?”

  “Give me a moment to consult with my adv
isors,” Liam requested.

  Theron bowed gracefully.

  “Well, gentlemen,” Liam said. “Interesting proposal.”

  “The King feels sure he will win either way,” said Maurious. “He wants to give the appearance that he is being just and giving you a fighting chance. He is right about what will happen to the non-combatants in a siege. Only it will be far worse. It will mean torture and rape of the innocent, then death. He will want to avoid any record of such things. Well staged.”

  “We know we could survive a siege indefinitely as long as they don’t figure out our water supply. But we must consider the possibility of losing. If we can spare the innocent, we simply must,” Liam said. “General, how many soldiers do we have?”

  “3147,” answered Riley.

  “And the King?”

  “At my last count it was over 19000, but that was before all of this. Many of their soldiers have joined our ranks. Their numbers have probably fallen to about 17000, but you can count on at least 5000 conscripts.”

  “We are outnumbered six to one. He knows he can just keep sending fresh new troops in, whittling us away; and if it comes to it, this gives him time to recruit more conscripts,” said Blade.

  “Yes, but I believe we should avoid losing in a siege. Protecting our people is paramount,” said Liam. “Are we all agreed?”

  When no one protested, Liam called, “Theron, we accept your challenge.”

  ~Æ~

  Viebke and Bianka sat alone together at their small table atop the mountain, sipping tea and looking out over the vast horizon. As evening settled in, the sandy desert mountains turned brilliant shades of orange and red.

  “It is a beautiful evening,” said Bianka to her sister.

  “Ah, it is warm and peaceful, for tomorrow war comes,” answered Viebke.

  “Do you still think the council was wrong?”

  “I do not know,” answered Viebke. “I suppose it will be decided in the arena.”

  “Oh, sister,” said Bianka excitedly, “if only we were a few centuries younger. I would so love to be there in person.”