Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

by Elaina J Davidson

A slow smile, a swift taunt. “I have, though. Do I want to crow it to the heavens? Gods, yes. Shall we challenge the fates, then? Are you ready for the aftermath?”

  “Are you?”

  Elianas raked him with an expressionless gaze. “I shall fight any furies, but it is not my grandson out there and I do not have to explain to Tarlinn how far I have fallen.”

  “Tarlinn? For gods’ sakes, what has that got to do with anything?”

  Elianas gripped his arm and marched him forward. “We have witnesses.” He jerked his head backward. Horatio and a squad of soldiers had arrived on the common. “The Throne knows me,” he continued as they went on walking, “but it expects certain standards from its creator. Maybe it will not care one way or the other, but I would rather you did not find out the hard way.”

  “It knows,” Torrullin pointed out.

  “It knows only what was before. Not this.”

  “It welcomed Torrullin even after the event on Echolone,” Caballa frowned, keeping pace with them.

  “Destroyer is not in the same league as a Vallorin veering off the path,” Elianas responded. “Destroyer was pure. What we feel is …”

  “… unclean?” Torrullin snapped.

  “That is one way of putting it.”

  They were finally on the path to the Palisade. All was silent. Torrullin pulled free of Elianas’ hold. “And yet it abided you for ages, knowing how you feel.”

  “So we are going to do this now,” Elianas sighed.

  “I will walk on,” Caballa muttered.

  “No need. Let me say this so he hears as another hears. It abided me and a host of other adverbs because I came to it without subterfuge. A tiny period of ten years is the only time I have not loved you, but you, Torrullin, you conceived of a mighty golden seat of Valleur - Valla - power long before you met me. Nemisin had already stolen your design by the time I was born. Tarlinn knows you as Lord Sorcerer, Enchanter, Dragon, Elixir and Vallorin, a man who fathered heirs, a man who wed and loved women.”

  “And duality.”

  Elianas’ eyelids flickered. He looked away. “Yes, and maybe that explains …” He swung back. “You dare not take the chance. Tarlinn is Vallorin now.”

  “Tarlinn has taken the reins because Tian is compromised. It has nothing to do with you and me.”

  Elianas shook his head.

  Torrullin studied him for long minutes. “Fine.” He walked on.

  “I have disappointed you.”

  Torrullin walked on. “A part of Tarlinn listens even now, remember? Already it knows more than what was before.”

  “True, but words are not unassailable truth until there is actual contact with the ancient seat. The Throne is not omnipotent, I agree, and it learns from the knowledge flow when Vallorins take a seat, and thus it is ignorant of certain nuances. But …”

  Ahead Torrullin turned to walk backward up the path.

  “… if you must take a seat again, Torrullin? A man loving a man, both of Valla and Danae blood? It links us in a manner Tarlinn may not easily overlook.”

  “Say what?” Caballa blurted.

  Elianas stalked forward, surging past her. He gripped Torrullin by the tunic. “It may regard us as blood brothers.”

  “What?” Caballa said again.

  The two men moved apart after trading stares.

  “It said otherwise when it created this space,” Torrullin said.

  “I know, but when you do sit on it, will it truly accept?”

  Torrullin considered and said, “Under ever fucking wrap there is, then.”

  Elianas whispered, “We fall into the abyss in private.”

  Grey eyes glittered. “As you say, brother.” He walked on.

  Caballa grabbed at Elianas as he was about to follow. “Valla and Danae, both of you?”

  “Small Valla on my side, major Danae on his,” Elianas said, and looked down at her. “Do not appear so shocked. We are many generations apart. You do, however, prove my point about being regarded as blood brothers.”

  Caballa sighed. “And it is a Valleur truth that blood harks to blood every time.” She touched his arm. “It explains almost all that is between you, do you see it?”

  He smiled down at her. “I have known for a while. He must still come to acceptance.”

  She looked up at him. “It will not be an easy road, Elianas.”

  He walked on a beat, two, three. “Easy is boring, Caballa.”

  She sighed and said nothing further.

  Through a break in the trees ahead, the Palisade loomed.

  The Dome

  DECHEND, SENLU ELDER, found it exceedingly otherworldly to be in a place he had only heard tell of. This curved space with its mighty arches and central white circle felt familiar due to the tales, and yet it would ever be unearthly to a man accustomed to stone and tree.

  Quilla and Belun had welcomed him and Kylis, and then nearly killed them with questions. His relief was palpable when someone else walked in. Perhaps now, answers. A cessation of questions. Tristan. Thank the gods.

  Tristan felt the oppression. “I have never known the Dome this mundane.”

  “For me it is very strange,” Dechend murmured.

  Tristan clasped his shoulder. “Nothing is kosher here, so calm yourself. No one is comfortable.”

  “I think it’s fantastic,” Kylis said.

  “The Dome can never be mundane,” Belun said, glaring at them.

  A grin from Tristan, and then he was serious. “I have placed a marker at the edge of the path; all paths are now marked, but beware traps nonetheless. Torrullin is at the Palisade with most of the others, and a meeting has been called here to explain how we move on.”

  Kylis was dubious. “Can they get here safely?” He thought of his Emperor, and Alik.

  “We have sensors trained on every structure now here; we will know if they need our aid.

  Dome Path

  TORRULLIN CROSSED THE common with the others. He sent them ahead down the path, and hung back with Elianas.

  “About Lowen,” Elianas began.

  “You once said a threesome was out of the question,” Torrullin muttered, looking only ahead.

  “Perhaps we should hold to that.”

  A glance speared him. “Make up your mind.”

  “Do you really want to do that to her?”

  “No.”

  Elianas threaded a hand through his hair. “And yet I cannot remove the images of imagination.”

  A soft laugh sounded. “I know.”

  They walked on. “If she ever offers …”

  Silence from Torrullin, and then, “If she ever offers, yes.”

  “Would she?”

  Another sideways glance. “There is a chance she might.”

  Elianas released an explosive breath.

  “Let it go. We focus on this.”

  “On behaving while we make war.”

  “Action can divert attention, after all.”

  Then the Dome was before them, a half-sphere of sparkling crystal. Every time lightning flashed in the oppressive cover overhead, it fired in colours of the rainbow.

  “It is beautiful, Elianas.”

  “Crystal is a perfect lattice, did you know that? Of magic for magic. And it whispers the songs of spaces.”

  They stood before the Dragon ogive. “What does that mean?”

  “Only that this is perfection. My one great and enduring feat.”

  Sound behind them of footfalls, swift and stumbling. They jerked around, hands to their swords. Teroux lurched into the clearing where the Dome rested.

  Tears streaked his face.

  “Go on ahead,” Torrullin said, his heart thudding.

  Elianas, after giving Teroux a searching look, stepped through the curved entrance.

  Teroux swallowed and a fresh bout of blubbering ensued. “I am a coward,” he coughed, trying to gain control.

  Torrullin took his arm and led him aside, away from ears possibly listening within. He sighe
d as he brought Teroux to a halt. Elianas was right. It was better to keep their escalated relationship under wraps. Damn it. Caballa was right also. And he had to learn to guard his tongue. Especially in front of Teroux; this grandson was filled with prejudice and anger. Despite his intentions on Avaelyn when Teroux pushed too hard, it would be easier to say nothing.

  Easier for Elianas.

  Look where that ploy dumped this grandson. Teroux required support and careful mind healing, not this kind of chaos. Torrullin’s heart constricted in sympathy.

  Teroux leaned against the magical substance, almost frantic. Hands moved as if jerked around by an unseen puppet master.

  “Teroux, be still.”

  The young man gulped in breaths of air and managed to curb most of his gyrations.

  “No one blames you for agreeing to do Tymall’s bidding. I know how much you desire to have your father whole, and how very much you want to see him.”

  He hoped to give Tymall a piece of his mind for offering to do so and, contrarily, he admired his son for knowing exactly which button to push when it came to Teroux.

  “H-he wanted me to get close to kill you and Elianas,” Teroux sobbed. “Tian told him it was a stupid idea.”

  Torrullin pinched his nose. “Well, it is.”

  “The-then he said I must place incendiary devices in each stronghold, but how? How do I do so without you knowing? He called me a coward. He-he chased me out, I am useless, he says … and now I will never see my father!”

  Teroux burst into a fresh bout of tears.

  Torrullin studied this grandson. He did not believe Teroux capable of subterfuge. The young man was too emotional to hide a lie, but he also did not trust this. Tymall knew how to use someone without that someone being aware of it. Was Teroux being sent out to insert himself into the circle of defenders using enough truth to cover his real intention?

  Or was the lad telling the truth?

  It did not matter. If Teroux was being less than honest, it would be uncovered; this was an opportunity to bring him back into the fold. He could not deny that. Despite his frequent fury with this young man, he loved him well.

  Torrullin reached out and brought that golden head down to his shoulder and allowed him to sob his heartache out; Teroux, whether being used or not, was clearly on a thin edge. He smoothed his hand over the young man’s back, saying nothing.

  Teroux clutched at him and wept in great gusts.

  In this he was entirely honest.

  The Dome

  BELUN HAD RESET THE parameters to permit access via one ogive alone - the Dragon entrance - for the safety and integrity of the magical enclave.

  Only one doorway would need to be watched at all times.

  It was quite a gathering, more being present than had filled the Gatherers’ Circle in a while.

  The witnesses. The combatants.

  From Grinwallin, Teighlar, Alik, Dechend and Kylis.

  From Torrke, Caballa, Vanar, Yiddin and Sirlasin.

  For the Dome, Belun, Quilla and Tristan.

  For the palisade, Lowen, Rose and Sabian, and Mikhail Bannerman, for he had to fit in somewhere, and Sabian.

  And from Avaelyn, Torrullin and Elianas.

  Now there was Teroux, although no one understood where he slotted in.

  Torrullin looked them over. It would be hard to manage varied personalities, and yet all were needed against Tymall, Andor Bannerman, Horatio and the might of his army.

  It was time to begin.

  Chapter 49

  Let us play games now.

  ~ Max Dalrish ~

  Circle of Confrontation

  Citadel

  “THEY WILL NOT COME to us,” Horatio said and thumped the table. “We must take the fight to them!”

  Andor Bannerman had developed a nervous tick in the last few hours; it twitched constantly above his right eye. His dreams and ambitions of ruling the universe and carving out a hereditary line were going up in smoke and even that smoke was dissipating.

  “Every strategy we devised had them coming ultimately to us and expending themselves on these walls,” he rasped. “Hit and run was the game, and then a siege we could withstand into the next century. And you say they will not now come and, if they did, this place is unfinished.” Despite a nervous tick, Bannerman was not about to surrender. “General, come up with something that works. We need to know where to strike, when and how hard and we need it now.”

  Horatio was not close to surrender either. “First order of business is to flood the grass circle with soldiers. Next, we get our enemies into one place and keep them there with our host on that common. While they are thus curtailed, we blow their other stronghold to kingdom come …”

  A rap at the door to the war room.

  “Come!” Bannerman hollered.

  A soldier entered. He spoke to his general. “They are in the Dome.”

  Horatio smiled and waved the soldier off, and grinned his delight at Bannerman. “Mr President, the first advantage.”

  Bannerman stood and leaned on his knuckles. “Can it work?”

  “If we move now.”

  A nod. “Deploy.”

  Horatio rubbed his hands together and started barking commands.

  The Dome

  BELUN, CENTUAR IN HUMANOID guise, watched the monitors.

  Like to his leader, he did not enjoy that the Dome was in a place it could potentially be wounded. Unless one counted the time it went through Sanctuary’s atmosphere upon Torrullin’s command, it had never been this close to danger. He watched the monitors closely.

  Tristan had Teroux in a corner attempting to make sense of his cousin’s intentions.

  Alik and Kylis spoke quietly together behind the marble slab. Mikhail Bannerman watched them, no doubt sensing something of the Senlu’s feelings, and Teighlar stared openly, arms crossed. He knew of Kylis’ new status from Dechend, but had not yet had words with the young man.

  “We must inform my father,” Alik eventually said loud enough for that father to hear.

  Kylis bowed his head, and swiftly approached. “My Lord Emperor.”

  Teighlar relaxed his stance. “Kylis, congratulations. You will do well as an Elder.”

  “Thank you, my lord. I must inform you about …”

  Teighlar took his arm and led him aside. Another whispered conversation ensued, and then Teighlar grinned and clasped the man’s shoulders. “Well done!”

  Alik smiled at him across the space, knowing he had to be as relieved as she was.

  Dechend smiled as well.

  The others sat at the marble conference slab, waiting.

  Torrullin stood at the helm, the console of lights steady before him. “Concentrate now,” he said. “Please sit.”

  Alik, Teighlar and Kylis took seats, but Tristan still had Teroux in his sights elsewhere.

  As Torrullin spoke, Belun listened.

  “We are in this for the duration. All players are now gathered in a space where results will not impact our larger realm. No one leaves until we are either victorious or have lost to our enemies. To that end the Dome is our war room; it is also the safest place if the battle goes ill. The rules are thus. This is a dimensional space. It is flat, of the moment, a place created for one purpose. It is also spherical and cannot be measured, a complicated contradiction. These are the circles referred to in ancient writings and that is why it works; it is also the reason the Dome had to come.”

  He glanced at Tristan returning to the slab with Teroux.

  “We needed unassailable strength to enable confrontation. The common binds all and the paths are spokes on a wheel. We cannot cross via the wedges between. In other words, the only way to get to the citadel is to head from here to the common and from there to its path. It is a drawback, for we cannot use stealth to our advantage, but they cannot either. Every move is visible. Theirs and ours. The common is a neutral zone. No battle will be fought there, for it cannot be fought. However, and I need every one of you to hark
to this at all times, anything you say or do there is a nuance the enemy can use against us.”

  Briefly he cast a glance at Elianas.

  “Having said that, how does one fight a war of this nature? Attacking Andor Bannerman’s citadel will avail us exactly nothing, for no magic works there. It was designed as an anti-magic stronghold and that has translated a hundred-fold into this arena. Whether or not they were ready for magic before is of no consequence; they are now. Same goes for Shadow Wings. Attacking Tymall’s fort directly means only failure.”

  “You are saying they must come to us,” Tristan murmured.

  Belun sighed, liking that even less.

  Torrullin rounded the console and leaned against it, crossing his arms. “Only an exceedingly stupid man would attack the Dome and Horatio is not that. Tymall is petrified of this place. If we thus remain here, thus does the status quo.”

  “Then nothing will change,” Tristan murmured.

  “Exactly. Status quo is unacceptable. Do we then have them come at us at the Palisade? Would you?”

  Tristan said, “Yes, if I was Horatio, but we would lose there.”

  “The palisade cannot withstand an army,” Rose said.

  Teroux had taken a seat beside her and she held his hand. Husband and wife had not had an opportunity to talk, but it was clear Teroux needed desperately to have words with her. They continually looked at each other and Teroux constantly inclined his head as if asking her to come aside with him. She shook her head every time.

  “Horatio does not know what the palisade can or cannot withstand, thus you need keep it close when you talk on the common. The moment he does, we will be herded in some manner to it,” Torrullin said.

  Teighlar sucked at his teeth. “But we need them to come to us, and they will certainly come to a place they think is indefensible.”

  “We would lose there,” Elianas echoed.

  Teighlar sat forward and tapped his fingers on the slab. “You are aiming at here, are you not? How do you lure them?”

  Elianas glanced at Torrullin, but did not speak. Belun made a face and concentrated on the monitors.