The God-Stone War m-4

by Michael G. Manning

  “I will!” I barked back at her. “You’ve seen what the earth bond does to people. I’ve already had to release and replace three of them.”

  “You can’t protect everyone, Mort! We learned that lesson already, and all of these plans and contingencies you’ve created over the years are just that… plans. When they come for us all, your plans will dissolve into chaos in a matter of moments. I need the ability to protect our children, and frankly I don’t care what the costs are. We have four children now, and I would rather keep the ones we have than worry about whether we’ll be able to have more in the future.”

  When she finished she simply stopped and her eyes bored into me. I could see desperation there, the same desperation I would have felt if I was facing our current situation without any power of my own. I felt my love for her grow, as it always had, and without hesitation I reversed my stance. I knew my objections were based purely on fear, fear of losing her, but we both feared something worse… losing our family. It was a moment of ironic tragedy and camaraderie, both at the same time. The tragedy was my realization that I was willing to trade her safety, her life, for our children if necessary. The camaraderie came from the fact that we both shared that decision, that if necessary, they were more important than either of our lives. We had each become secondary to their safety.

  “I could never have chosen a better mother for my children,” I said abruptly, putting my hand against her cheek. Her face grew curious at my change in demeanor, so I explained, “I loved you more than my own life, more than I thought I could love anything. Then we had children, and somewhere along the way, without realizing it, I grew to love them so much, that I am now willing to risk your life for theirs… and somehow I still love you even more than I did before.”

  I felt tears welling in my eyes, but somehow Penny had still begun crying before me, her face was already wet when she answered, “That’s not fair Mort. You can’t just stop and say something like that in the middle of an argument.” She wiped her cheeks. “Look at what you did.”

  I drew her close and we stayed quiet for a while, simply breathing and taking comfort in each other’s arms. “I will give you the bond,” I told her at last, “but I won’t make you one of my knights.”

  She nodded, glancing up at me. “I never asked you to make me a knight, but since you brought it up… why not?”

  “I don’t want you beholden to any oaths, not to me, not to our people, or anyone else. I will give you strength, but I want you to use it purely at your own discretion, and by that I mean, that if you need to abandon everyone and everything else to save our children… I want you to do so,” I explained.

  “Thank you,” she said, squeezing me even harder.

  “Don’t thank me,” I told her. “These are desperate decisions, and eventually we will pay the price for them. I just wish you didn’t have to pay with me.”

  We didn’t waste any more time, and that night in our darkened bedroom, I bound a part of the earth to Penny. It wasn’t a decision I could change, but I still felt as though I were damning her to some terrible fate. Afterward, we lay silent and waited for sleep that would not come.

  Chapter 12

  The next morning arrived as it typically does, regardless of my wishes on the matter. Somehow, despite my lack of quality sleep, I wasn’t as tired as I might have otherwise expected. Penelope by contrast was positively energized. She was attempting to remain casual, but it was easy to tell that she was excited about the earth bond. There was an extra bounce in every step, and she went out of her way to move heavy items that she otherwise had no reason to move.

  She was testing her new strength. Fortunately, since this wasn’t her first time dealing with enhanced physical power, she didn’t make any of the usual mistakes (as she had when she first became my Anath’Meridum).

  “What are you doing now?” I asked as she dug through one of our older wardrobes.

  “My armor,” she answered immediately. She was referring of course, to the chainmail byrnie I had enchanted for her long ago, when I had expected her to have to defend both of our lives regularly.

  “It’s not in that one. It’s in the chest over there, near the bottom,” I indicated one of our heavy oaken trunks that stood in the corner of the room.

  “Thanks,” she replied, as she stopped searching and went to open said box. As she pulled out the armor, she made an observation. “You really are frightening sometimes, Mort. I know you can sense objects at great distances, as well as being able to see inside of things, but how on earth can you spot something like this within a room full of so many other things so quickly? It doesn’t seem human.”

  A smirk crossed my lips while I considered leaving her with her mistaken impression of my ability. Finally I decided honesty was the best policy. “The armor glows in my magesight, so it and the other enchanted items in the room stand out like fireflies.”

  “Oh,” she paused. “I should have realized.”

  “You aren’t planning on wearing it now are you?” I asked with some concern. I didn’t look forward to explaining the change in her physical prowess just yet. In fact I preferred to keep it a secret. The past had taught me that surprise was sometimes the best advantage one could have. Consequently, I now kept more secrets than anyone was aware of, even Penny and Dorian, though I had convinced myself that it was for their own good.

  She gave me a knowing glance. “Worried?” The one word question held a host of layered meanings.

  “Yes.”

  “Me too,” she admitted, before leaning over to give me a kiss, “but I don’t plan on wearing it yet. I just want it close at hand when the time comes.”

  That was a sentiment I could definitely agree with.

  After that the day got underway. Shortly after breakfast we left the house and switched to our apartment within Castle Cameron. Lilly arrived at her normal time. She was feeling better and ready to resume her duties, for which I was very grateful. Penny left soon after, intending to start early. She still had a lot to do to prepare for Nicholas’ arrival later in the day.

  My only duty for the morning was meeting with Dorian to discuss his plans and inform him of our new information, which wasn’t something I relished doing. As I was getting dressed Matthew found me.

  “Dad, I have a question,” he began, which was his usual method for starting a conversation.

  “As usual,” I muttered sardonically.

  “Can I stay with Gram today?” he continued without noticing my remark.

  That was a simple one, I thought to myself. “That should be fine. You can walk with me. I’m going to see Sir Dorian anyway. We can ask him when I find him,” I answered.

  He nodded and I assumed he was done… until we got to the castle hall outside the entrance to our apartments. His face held an expression of serious thought when he spoke again, “Dad, I have another question.”

  I smiled. “I should have suspected as much.”

  “Why does Mom get angry at you?”

  Startled, I looked down and found myself caught by his deeply curious blue eyes. My first instinct was to deflect his question, either by questioning his perception or trying to change the subject, but the honesty in his face disarmed me. My face softened as I replied, “Love… she gets angry because she loves us.”

  His face registered confusion.

  Stopping I gave him my full attention. “Think about it this way. Why do you get angry?”

  Putting his hand on his chin my son assumed a thoughtful pose. I wonder where he learned that gesture. Do I do that? I wondered, but without an objective third person I couldn’t be sure. Then he replied, “I got mad yesterday when Moira kicked me.”

  “When did she do that? Never mind, that’s a good example,” I told him. “You were angry because she hurt you, right?”

  He gave an affirmative nod.

  “Your mother gets upset with me, or you, for the same reason, because we hurt her, or because we might hurt her. The trick is figuring out h
ow. Have you ever tried to hurt your mother on purpose?” I asked him.

  “No,” he replied shaking his head vigorously. Damn, he’s cute, I thought.

  “Have you ever seen me hurt her?”

  He gave another negative head shake.

  “So what do you think we might do that hurts your mother?”

  Matthew thought for a while before eventually shrugging in defeat. “I don’t know Dad. It’s a mystery to me.”

  The adult phrasing sounded so odd, yet serious coming from his lips that I almost burst out laughing. He definitely spends time around someone who has an interesting way of using words. I had to force my thoughts back on track. “Well, it is often a mystery to me as well, but through careful thought and a lot of experience, I think I have figured out a large part of it. Would you like to know what I think?”

  That got a very strong nod; I had his curiosity fully engaged now.

  “She loves us so much, that when we get hurt, or when she just thinks we might get hurt… it hurts her. The same thing holds true if you do something mean to your sister, or she does something mean to you. Does that make sense?” I asked.

  Matthew’s eyes had widened a bit as my explanation sank into his mind. He was still thinking however, and after a long pause he spoke up again. “I think so, but I don’t understand one thing.”

  “What’s that?” Somehow I knew it wouldn’t be as simple as one explanation. Matthew always had ‘one more’ question.

  “Is this like your sword, except instead of something good, it’s something bad?” he managed to say with some effort.

  I stared at him for a long minute before I had the gist of what he was asking. Then I realized he was talking about the story of the sword my father had made for me. I touched the hilt and asked, “You mean the sword your Grandpa Royce made for me?” The sword was plainly made, without much ornamentation. Royce had made it from the weapon of one of the assassins who had killed my parents, and he had given it to me when I had come of age. The lesson he had taught me with it was that good things can rise from the ashes of bad things.

  Matthew’s answer was a simple, “Yes.”

  I was frankly surprised he had remembered the story. I hadn’t thought he was listening very well when I told him and his sister about it. I thought carefully as I answered, “That’s a very clever way of thinking about it Matthew, but this is different. This isn’t actually something bad coming from something good, at least not always, because your mother’s anger isn’t a bad thing. Quite often it’s a good thing.”

  He frowned, waiting for a better explanation.

  “It’s like pain,” I said continuing. “It helps warn you, so you don’t hurt yourself more. A mother’s pain comes from the fear that we might be hurt, and because of that, she gets angry with us, but that anger serves the same purpose. It often keeps us from doing something stupid and hurting ourselves.”

  “Oh,” he said, and his expression made it clear he felt the conversation had come to a satisfying conclusion.

  Personally I was a bit let down. I had been rather pleased with my explanations, so it was a bit of an anti-climax to get nothing more than a simple ‘oh’ at the end of it. We continued down the hallways, and we were almost to our destination when he spoke again.

  “Why do you get angry with Mom sometimes? Is it the same thing?”

  Caught off guard I answered honestly, “No, I get mad at her because she’s stubborn, mule-headed, and occasionally just plain wrong.” I stopped as my mind replayed my words back to me. “Forget I said that,” I hastily amended.

  “Why?” my son asked me without a trace of guile. I had to wonder if he was pretending to ignorance.

  “You know why. Just leave that part out when you repeat all this to your brother and sister later,” I told him.

  “But I can tell Mom, right?” The little monster was smiling openly.

  I glared at him. I can’t believe I’ve sired a banker… or perhaps a bandit. “I’ll bring you something sweet from the kitchen later,” I said without explanation.

  Matthew grinned, “I like the berry tarts best.”

  “We have a deal then,” I replied, tousling his hair with one hand. He gave me a spontaneous hug, and then we started walking again.

  I could feel him looking up at me as we walked, but I didn’t turn my head. “I wouldn’t really have told on you,” he said.

  “I know,” I answered.

  * * *

  After leaving the boys with Lady Rose, Dorian and I walked together for a ways. He was heading for the barracks to double check the men before King Nicholas arrived later in the day. I had several other things to do, last of which would be going to collect said king and his entourage.

  “Dorian,” I said, using a tone that signaled I had something serious to talk about.

  My friend was a consummate worrier, and his face wrinkled up immediately. “Uh oh,” he said.

  “Penny had a dream last night,” I began, “the sort we don’t like, if you take my meaning.”

  “Go on,” he urged me.

  “The shining gods… and Mal’goroth as well, have crossed into our world.”

  “You said that wasn’t possible,” Dorian noted in a deeply worried voice.

  I stopped walking and turned toward him. “Normally it isn’t possible, unless they have help from a wizard on this side.”

  “But all the wizards we know of are here, with us.”

  “Somehow, they created the bridge without any aid from this side.” I held up a hand to forestall his next question. “I don’t know how, but I think the more important question at this point, is why.”

  Dorian looked at me as though I had gone mad. “That should be obvious, Mort! They’re here to exact vengeance upon you and the rest of us as well. This is what we’ve been expecting ever since the day you turned Celior into a pretty stone.”

  I shook my head. “That’s what I thought seven years ago, but a lot of time has passed since then. I had all but given up on the notion that they would seek revenge. In fact, I think perhaps they were afraid to face me.”

  “Then why now?”

  “I think they’re desperate. Mal’goroth is much stronger than they are. I think they’re afraid of him,” I explained.

  Dorian was disbelieving, “How could you know their relative strengths? Did you convince them to come in so you could measure their ‘Celiors’?”

  I was impressed that he had used my new unit of measure, though his question annoyed me. “No, I simply felt it. Last night while Penny was having her vision, I had a dream of my own. I sensed each of them, and the difference between them was like the difference between a mountain and a foothill. They have good cause to fear Mal’goroth. Worse, I believe I’m the one that helped give him that power.”

  “Now I know you’re crazy,” Dorian observed.

  “When we fought the army of Gododdin, he told me that the deaths of his soldiers would only make him stronger. He also told me that his cultists would sacrifice the families of every soldier that didn’t survive. I wiped out over thirty thousand men at the end of that war… and his priests damn near succeeded in killing all of their families. That’s what finally sparked the revolt that put Nicholas back in power,” I said firmly. “Think how much power Mal’goroth must have gained from all those lives. He can’t draw power from human prayers like the shining gods can, but he gains a considerable amount from each life taken in his service. I helped to give him that power, whether I intended to or not.”

  “This sounds a lot like you throwing a pity party for yourself again. Stop trying to take responsibility for everything that happens,” my burly friend growled at me. “What’s more important is how we respond… what we do.”

  I couldn’t argue with that point. “You’re right. Though in my defense, I didn’t want pity. I just wanted to explain my theory on his gain in strength.”

  Dorian snorted, “Sure, fine. We need to call the men back. Cyhan needs to return. If the gods
plan to attack us, we’ll need every one of our knights.”

  We had begun planning for a situation similar to this years ago. “That doesn’t match our third contingency plan,” I told him. The third plan dealt with our response if all three of the shining gods came against us together. “Having them here only makes evacuation more problematic.”

  “Just because they all crossed over doesn’t mean they will all come here. They still might send only one or two. Do you have any idea how much time we will have?” he asked.

  “Something on the order of a week, possibly more,” I replied.

  “You have to call the other men back. We cannot assume that the worst scenario will play out,” Dorian advised me again. “What will you tell King Nicholas tonight?”

  That hadn’t even crossed my mind yet, so it took me a moment to decide. “Nothing, other than the fact that we’ve got some sort of training planned, and that the patrol will be delayed. Anything more would just put him ill at ease over something he can’t control. We’ll let him return home. He should be safer there.”

  Dorian grimaced. “I don’t like lying. We should cancel his stay and call everyone together to refresh them all on the plans. The celebration this week should be canceled as well.”

  He was referring to the annual holiday to honor our defeat of the army of Gododdin. The same event I had argued with King Nicholas about. Although I truly loathed the reminder of what I considered one of my darkest decisions, I felt canceling it would be a mistake. “No… it won’t interfere with our preparations. We are already prepared as well as can be, and as far as lying goes, just keep your mouth shut and I’ll lie for both of us.”

  “But you can’t…,” he started.

  I interrupted him before he could get too worked up, “I’ve made up my mind, Dorian, let it go.”

  He closed his mouth for a moment and then opened it again, “People need to be reminded about their duties when the alarm goes out. When will we start drills?”