by Kyle Olson
Some agreed with his sentiments, others knew they were safe as they’d supported Marshal Reith, and a handful were ambivalent on the topic.
“Minister Davis,” Sejit began, “I understand you have a number of complaints pertaining to the lack of wealth flowing to Maysong. Worry not.”
This comment earned her a quizzical look from Davis and the Vice-Marshal.
“I have called for a special assembly today for a vote. A vote that, once passed, will see Yosel—and its people,” she said in a specific sort of way with a slight cant to the tone and a sweep of her eyes that they were part of that people, “Return to the world stage.”
“You said as much during your speech months ago at that dreadful banquet,” said another minister.
Again the speaker went on about proper decorum. “The representative for—”
“Speaker Tulman, I think it might be best to allow free speaking for the time being,” Sejit said, to which there was some silent protest from the Speaker, but a continued Look broke his resolve and he acquiesced.
“This is all just rhetoric. What could you possibly want to vote on now when the next general assembly is only two months away?”
She leaned forward on her podium. They all leaned a tiny bit back. “I propose we return Olmsel to the fold. In the few years since they splintered, they have continued their slide into poverty. In comparison, we have done well. Our military, while not nearly as powerful as it was before the outbreak, is far superior.”
“War! You want us to declare war?!”
It was impossible to gauge who’d said it, because no one person had done so—the usually fractious politicians had spoken in one voice. After that piece of unusual partisanship, the assembly descended into a chaos of shouts with some repeating the word “War” like a broken parrot. In two or three minutes, things had calmed enough for her to continue.
“But that is not all. Husphert has been idle as well and their capacity for defense is not much better than Olmsel’s. Both nations’ capitals lay close to Maysong, thus I believe it to be an ideal staging point.”
The eruption of insanity made the prior bedlam seem like a quaint tea party.
“Unbelievable!” Eventh slammed a fist on his table, “You would have us fight a war on two fronts?!”
“It would not be much of a war, truth be told.”
He cast a pleading gaze to the generals, who had remained relatively silent and unsurprised by the news. It took the man all of a second to deduce the why. “How can you agree with this? You all should know better!”
The General of the Armies rose to his feet slowly and acknowledged the Vice-Marshal with a slight nod. “We have accurate assessments of their forces. Even were it not for Marshal Reith’s… Additions, it would be a small matter to take their capitals. Most likely less than two weeks will be needed to seize control.”
“What additions? If it was military might alone it wouldn’t matter! You, of all people, shouldn’t need a reminder that it was a decade of guerrilla warfare that forced us to capitulate!”
Marshal Reith cleared her throat.
“Gentlemen!”
The single word from Sejit exploded across the PA system with such force it was a physical blow. A hush descended.
“If you would all be so kind as to allow me to explain in detail,” she said, speaking slow and pointed from behind a smile that was anything but jovial.
“I have been working with our military leadership,” she indicated towards those behind her, “To develop a battleplan that will ensure this be as bloodless, not just for us, but everyone,” she paused for effect, “as possible. Not only will we be using our own forces, but I will be hiring contractors at my own expense for the short-term to ensure immediate success.”
News of mercenaries did not sit well, but another reprimand from Sejit had them quiet, save for one who remained standing.
“We still have so many internal issues,” said the Minister of Health, “Would it not be better to divert those funds elsewhere, rather than embroil ourselves in another war? Most of our citizens are still recovering.”
“That is why I do not intend for this campaign to last long. In exchange, we will more than double our territory and population, expand our coastline, and gain access to the uranium mines in Husphert. Need I remind you all that the people of Husphert attempted a coup two years ago? I do not believe the people will challenge a change in leadership or flag. In fact, with the right sort of prior broadcast and spin on the declaration, I believe they will welcome us in with open arms.”
“Be that as it may about Husphert—the civil war was not intended to last long, either,” said Eventh, “Nor will this one go as you believe. Olmsel’s leadership would never agree to a return and those dissidents would rather starve like dogs if it means they can follow their petty religion.”
“And starving they are, Vice-Marshal. We will tempt them by giving them what they want.”
“You can’t mean…?”
“Indeed. In these modern times, there is no need to persecute one for their beliefs. Unlike past leadership, I do not feel so threatened by imaginary beings. That, and a helping of food donations, will ensure their cooperation.”
“That goes against everything this nation has stood for!”
“Stood for in the last hundred years, you mean? The Endless War was not kind to Yosel and bottom-feeders were quick to move in and carve it up into their own little kingdoms. I shall see to it that their meddling is undone.”
For once they’d not exploded into a furor. Most of the assembly was stunned into silence. Even the most progressive among them hadn’t even considered allowing anything other than Ygthrism—not that any of them were active participants. Sure the Traditionalists and conservatives paid lip service and would have photo-shoots in a House, but all the tithes and mandates got in the way of making money and actually enjoying life.
“You can’t!”
“I will.”
“The people won’t stand for it!”
“They will, provided we show a united front on the matter.”
“You mean to force us to vote your way, then?”
“No, you will vote in favor of your own accord because you understand it is for the good of the nation, its people.”
And yourselves.
There were some among those in the room that would vote against her because they believed in what they stood for. That was fine, even admirable. They were useful in their own way. No better way to keep a faction who doesn’t like you content than to give them supposed representation. Supposedly. Sejit still had her doubts, but Tess had been adamant about it.
“If I simply wished to usurp complete control, I would have done so already,” said Jasmine Reith.
This made several people uncomfortable, as if they’d never before considered that an option. After that brutal war a hundred years ago, the first Marshal of the new age had started as a despot, but didn’t much care for having to do all the ruling. Thus came the various ministers. They were even elected, most of the time. But the clause remained deep in the founding documents that the Marshal held supreme power. There’d even been fanciful interpretation after the first Marshal died, scant few years after assuming the title, that the position was to be an elected one, too. Most of the time.
“But, like those before me, I understand what it takes to achieve greatness. The question is, do you?”
More hubbub and murmuring followed, along with some actual discussion that dragged the proceedings into the night.
Sejit was both surprised and not by the outcome of the vote. A few holdouts she’d expected to oppose anything she wished to do had been in favor, and a few of those she’d assumed to be so deep in her pocket as to never see the light of day again had gone against her. Mortals could be so strange about the hills they chose to die on.
News outlets across the world were agog, for not only had Coanphany declared war on its southern neighbor, Skannag, but hours later Yosel had d
one the same to its western and eastern neighbors, Olmsel and Husphert.
The fact that Coanphany had attacked someone wasn’t much of a surprise, but the timing was much earlier than most expected. And then Yosel! No one had thought they had the military capacity to do much of anything, and it turns out they were correct—for the most part. Mercenaries brought in as security and peacekeeping, ostensibly to aid in countering the rash of terrorist attacks, instead went off to conquer the lands of Husphert.
To the media, the juiciest part was the timing of it all. There was no link between the two countries anyone could find that’d give rise to some sort of odd joint operation. No military equipment had been exchanged, aside from a few arms shipments Yosel purchased some time ago. Some tried to argue this was a link, but considering Coanphany sold arms to everyone, it didn’t hold much weight.
Olmsel and Husphert both surrendered in under two weeks, just as expected. They’d put up token resistance, fighting back with errant bombs and rockets and striking out from damp caves and abandoned housing. With only a ramshackle military, there was nothing to stop the forces of Yosel from marching straight to the respective capitals and capturing the governments. The countries both formally surrendered and prepared to be annexed and integrated. Further declarations included that if the people just behaved themselves, they too could experience a rise in prosperity just as Yosel had. As part of the immediate effects, liberties were improved and food dispensed.
Husphert fell in line almost immediately.
The people of Olmsel, however, were far more suspicious of the new religious liberty clause. To begin with, men and women slipped away from their villages, weapons caches were unearthed, the old bomb factories dusted off.
This was not to last, however.
The former leadership, or Government-in-Exile, consisted of seven members in hiding, issuing commands and making speeches about fighting the good fight. Mysteriously, this changed overnight and they began urging cooperation. Cautious cooperation, but cooperation nonetheless.
A rumor spread that, during one night, they’d been visited by a lion the likes of which shouldn’t exist in the world. A divine revelation, as it were.
Meanwhile, the operation in Skannag was more hum-drum, basic mechanized warfare. Skannag had put up a resistance, such as it was, but outdated technology meant they lost most planes and tanks to attackers they never saw. So, they too lost in short order.
Though, unlike Yosel which had seemed satisfied with doubling in size, Coanphany’s military rolled onward to the south and east.
Which got themselves into a real war with Gyunphan, their ambassador hand delivering a declaration of war as the first salvo of Gyunphanic missiles struck their targets before Coanphany forces had even reached the border.
Not long before encountering Gyunphan, Ifon had begun making broadcasts from a hidden location. No windows, concrete walls draped in regalia and heraldry. Which made sense, of course, seeing as how Gyunphan had the technology to send a missile through his window from a few hundred miles away. Not too many missiles, mind, but they existed.
There’d been a broadcast just minutes ago, praising the military forces for their continued success and so on and so on. In fact, it hadn’t yet stopped, but was wrapping up.
Ifon clinked the ice in his tumbler, which earned him a withering stare from Daontys. He clinked the ice some more, which earned him a look.
“Must you?”
“If only your feathers weren’t so easy to ruffle,” he said, finishing off his glass.
Daontys rubbed at his forehead and sighed, “I question my decision to create this alliance.”
“You were a tight-ass even back in the day,” Ifon said, polished shoes tapping across the equally polished granite flooring to get a good look out the picture window. Greenery, mountains, and a bit of snow. Erton and Coanphany may have been separated by the Tulson Ocean and a bit of land, but the scenery hadn’t changed.
“Hmph,” Daontys snorted, as he adjusted one of the cuffs on his suit.
“The world’s changed so much, but look at us, playing the same games with a new ball.”
“I find your analogy suspect, but yes, in a sense we do. The teams, as you might say, are different, however.”
“At its core, maybe. We used to have endless… spats with Sejit and the others. Back then, we had support. She had support—more than that jackal following her around these days, at any rate.”
Daontys leveled his gaze at the great, gray-maned man. “Have you discovered what happened to Phytos?”
Ifon’s lip twitched. “No. Can’t get any of my operatives near that site. Whatever happened there drew the attention of more than just the local police.”
“I assumed as much. This is something I learned of just recently: A significant amount of ground was liquefied by heat, along with most of the estate built there. The family is missing, but a fragment of flesh was discovered, mostly ash, but enough was left to identify it as human.”
“…Why didn’t you inform me of this before?” Ifon spoke with his back to the god, focusing instead on the wildlife through the window.
“As I said, this is new information. Yesterday, in fact. My source went on to tell me the Erton government is viewing this as some sort of new weapon.”
“So. Is there a third party working with her we don’t know about? Tess doesn’t have that kind of power.”
“Doesn’t she? She had demonstrated a working capacity for fire in ages past.”
“You said the ground was molten, turned to lava on a large scale. No,” he shook his head, “Compared to that, the most she could do were magic tricks.”
“And yet the evidence suggests otherwise. We must not underestimate her, least of all because Sejit her ally.”
Ifon simmered. Phytos was dead. At best, captured. That much he had to accept, because if he was alive, he’d have returned long ago. That sniveling, simpering jackal couldn’t have killed him, couldn’t have wrought that kind of destruction.
Couldn’t have, but Daontys was correct. The evidence was there. But. But! He shifted from one leg to the other, turning to face the bird.
“Let’s assume that bitch has had, all this time, the ability to reduce us to ash at any given moment. Instead of rolling over so many times, she could have fought back.”
“What is the power of flame before me?” Daontys said with a sniff, “It would not have mattered.”
“I’m not so sure. She was humiliated. If that’d been me, I wouldn’t have hesitated, wouldn’t have held back, even if it was a hopeless fight. But then, maybe that’s it. She’s just a coward,” he said, dredging up the word from the back of his throat like a wad of phlegm, then coughed, “Regardless, Sejit is rising to our threats. There’s only one way for this to end on the current course. We’ll get into a squabble, and as usual, limp off and lick our wounds to do it again some other time.”
“I have never limped off,” Daontys squawked in a rush, puffing up like an angry bird before he remembered himself and de-puffed, straightening his suit and running long, slender fingers through his hair to calm it down, “But yes, I have retreated from battle.”
“Hah! No shame in admitting to running from her. Damnations, the lesser of us have boasted about meeting her in the field and surviving.”
“But we are not the lessers,” Daontys crowed, “And she had allies then…”
Tess had yet to attempt communication with Daontys, even now, but then again, her objective was still incomplete. He hadn’t really imagined she’d be swayed to his cause, rather, he wished to slip a wedge in between the two. Based on Sejit’s actions, it appeared to have met with some measure of success.
“…Powerful allies. Now, she just has the one, never mind the other two.”
Ifon frowned. “Other two? I know our spy has informed us of another small god that lives with her. Who is the other?”
“The same spy,” Daontys went on, “Has recently reported that the mortal with th
ick blood I saw that evening has awoken to her heritage.”
“Is that all?” Ifon said, releasing his breath, “You had me worried for a moment! So, we still have to assume it’ll be a 2-on-2. Not much of an improvement, if we’re considering that jackal to be capable of putting up a fight.”
At his words, Daontys chuckled in the way certain people do when they’re about to correct someone. “Not so. There are a number of us left in this world, and I have been successful in bolstering our alliance.”
Within the undusted shelves of memory in Ifon’s mind, there laid a list with dozens, hundreds of names upon it. Most had been crossed off. Carefully, as to avoid disintegrating the fragile parchment, he skimmed the mental list.
“Is that so? I was under the impression you were still overturning rocks to find someone. Most of the gods left in this world can barely be called as such. The best I can think of… Ujmal was a decent enough fighter. Scrappy, but could hold his own, even if his wit was faster than his spear. Or was it a sword?” Ifon paused to consider this while his mental self went in search of the list that’d tell him who did what and who was who.
“Have you forgotten? He passed 20 years ago. The others, so far, are Tanquo, Rythul, Wioulan.. yn… enlken… Damn her name,” Daontys groused, “Wio,” he continued with the sort of tone indicating such a being should be honored to have even a single syllable said by himself, “Marphin, Hu’phed, and myriad others have sworn themselves to me. We are on the verge of a new, proper pantheon.”
“Quite the list of nobodies you’ve got there,” Ifon said, still searching for the companion list. The names were familiar, but hells if he could put them to who they were. Well, most of them. Hu’phed was probably the one he knew best, seeing as how he’d been part of the Fionsys pantheon. What did he do again…? Ah, that was it.
If only his bite had been more effective, would’ve rid them of her. But then, it would’ve rid him of her before… Ifon wasn’t sure if he wanted the outcome that wasn’t to be what was.
Though that brought up another question: When did Sejit get that sort of poison resistance?