The Panids' Children_The Panids of Koa

by Lee M Eason

  Bryn looked at him puzzled by his snort of laughter. “Were you told stories about them too?” he inclined his head in the direction of The Faithful and breaking the awkward silence between them.

  “You can’t see anything around here chopping root veg can you?” Jac was glad to answer.

  Kellim slowed his pace and dropped back to walk between them, “Gentlemen, remember your manners,” he said discretely and then speaking quieter still, added. “Of course they’ll eat you both first. You’ve far more meat on your bones.” With that he walked ahead again.

  “I’m scared,” Jac teased, gripping Bryn’s arm.

  “I preferred you when you were miserable,” he said dryly and then promptly cuffed him on the back of the head for good measure.

  The cave mouth quickly opened out into a large well-lit tunnel as it climbed up into the interior of the hillside. They came to a set of steps flanked by smooth walls. It became obvious, as they went deeper, that the caverns had been worked to make them more uniform and accessible. Eventually the steps descended into a large cavern whose access was controlled by a high wall. Men and a creature they only caught glimpses of patrolled its battlements and watched as they entered through the gateway in its centre. This cavern led to an enormous space in which a small village had been built. Buildings had also been carved out of the chamber’s steep sides to a height of about thirty feet, leaving the ceiling to continue for at least another twenty into the powerful light above.

  “How are they lighting this?” Jac asked, his mouth open as he turned to take in as much as he could.

  “And how have they kept it all hidden?” Bryn asked turning to look at Kellim.

  “A lot of The Children were blessed with abilities. Some are talented. Though I’m unsure how they managed all of this,” Kellim shielded his eyes as he scrutinised the light source above and speculated at its creation and maintenance.

  The Faithful walked back to them, impatient to continue. The men accompanying them had continued on and disappeared into the streets below.

  “Hurry, we must hurry. We are expected. Collect your packs. It is impolite to keep her waiting,” The Faithful fussed before heading down the steps to the narrow streets below. They shouldered their packs still gazing at everything about them and followed.

  The streets were busy as the occupants of the buildings went about their business.

  “Tell me The Faithful. Who are these people?”

  The dispossessed, the homeless - like The Children,” he answered not turning or slowing, his claws clicking on the paved street. Some of the people stopped to watch as they passed far more interested in the three strangers than The Faithful.

  “Are there many more of The Children here?”

  “Several,” The Faithful seemed evasive, unwilling to give exact numbers away. “Less than there was. Some chose to join the Adept whose name is Naicarn of Amar.”

  “Joined Naicarn?” Kellim was shocked.

  “The choice was not theirs. She will explain. We are nearly there.”

  They didn’t see any more of The Children but passed several buildings of considerable size accessed by openings clearly designed for beings quite different to people. The Faithful led them to a wider street that gently sloped towards the side of the chamber, ending at a set of wide steps that climbed to a large, highly carved building of arched openings and many columned levels.

  The Faithful ushered them in as they reached its main entrance. Inside was comfortably furnished and far from austere. They walked into what looked like an audience chamber. Its high plastered walls were painted with scenes from The Great War and showed battles The Panids’ Children had played pivotal roles in. The floor was scattered with rugs and cushions of varying sizes, small tables and chests. Several braziers burnt sweet smelling resins that gave the room a smoky atmosphere. It was a peaceful place and the three felt immediately at ease.

  The Faithful bowed deeply as a figure entered. Kellim quickly followed suit and gestured with a hand for Bryn and Jac to do the same. They did, trying to see who or what it was they were greeting.

  “Please, there is no need for such formalities.” The voice was that of a woman’s but deep and gravely. “Kellim, your reputation has not diminished. You are a part of history itself. It is good to see you again. I am pleased to see that time’s embrace has touched you lightly. Your journey has by far been the longest.”

  Kellim took the hand that was offered him and held it warmly between both of his. The soft light glistened in his eyes as he looked at the diminutive figure before him. When he spoke his voice was clearly emotional. “Your presence inspires and moves me as always Maga. I realise now it has been too long and for that I am truly saddened. Your wise council has been sorely missed.”

  Still holding Kellim’s hand she turned to the others. Maga bowed to The Faithful. “Your quick action and insights have increased the debt of gratitude we owe you The Faithful.”

  The Faithful straightened, positively glowing from the praise and then immediately bowed again in reverence. The gesture was graceful and contrasted greatly with his outward appearance. “The Beholder is most kind. The Faithful is deeply honoured.”

  Bryn watched as the woman walked towards him. She was all of four feet tall, and appeared to be in her sixties. Though he knew she had to be much older. He had not expected her to look so much like a person and wondered at what difficulties this must have brought her in the past. She was dressed in many layers of clothing interspersed with jewels and trinkets of no great worth but clearly of personal value. She seemed a little uncomfortable in their company. What was she thinking he wondered?

  “You quickly size me up Bryn of Naddier,” she smiled. “But do not worry we are all safe from the past here and the insecurities of others.” He was surprised by her words and that she knew his given name. Kellim had talked of her on one or two occasions but this was his first experience of her abilities. Her large brown eyes seemed to read every shadow of thought in his. This fascinated him.

  “Your forbearance is a source of endless comfort to your friends and especially to Gwen.” Bryn started slightly at the mention of her name. “Watch over them all,” she whispered for him only to hear. “They will need you more than ever if what might be, unfolds…” she stopped herself and smiled apologetically before taking his hand. “Watch over them, keep them safe.”

  “I- I will,” Bryn answered somewhat bemused and a little unsettled by her words. She smiled again before moving on to Jac.

  “Your carry a burden you should not.” Without thinking Jac lowered himself to one knee as she took hold of his hands. The Beholder looked back at Bryn. “Your friend was right,” she nodded before turning back to Jac. “It is now time to let go of the past. To remember what you have gained and been gifted by one so special to you. Not what you have lost. You will need both eyes on the road ahead.” Jac swallowed, his emotions beginning to surface again. “Do not hide them. They are the source of your strength. Others fight to ignore theirs and that makes them all the weaker and smaller for it.” The Beholder watched Jac intently for some time finally nodding at an unspoken understanding. The room was still when she finally turned back to the others. Her voice broke the silence and stirred the air. Time seemed to move on again. “I have much to tell you. But first Kellim, I think we should listen to your stomach. Food, yes that is a fitting way to welcome you.”

  ***

  The news of the Ildran invasions had shaken every country, Hon no less than any other. The border forts had done what they could to be ready. Trebuchet had been armed and the walls strengthened as much as was possible in the short time available. Hon had a relatively minor army and its Order was one of the smallest in the south. News of Ildra’s forces and their size had reached them and it was with a sense of dread that the border forts waited for the first sight of the advancing Ildran army. News of its ferocity and the terror unleashed by its Talents reached every ear. Each man and woman assigned to the forts had sa
id goodbye to friends and family before urging them to join the thousands of refugees fleeing the coming invasion.

  Like all the other forts along the border they’d been told to listen for the drums; the pounding heart of the advancing army and the sound of the leviathan’s feet as the might of Ildra approached. But here the Ildran sky armada arrived first. A hundred ships cast a shadow that crept over the ground, swallowing everything beneath it. Stunned soldiers where jerked into action by their commanders and the trebuchet whirred into motion, creaking and groaning as each hurled huge boulders into the sky. Arcing through the air one struck home, shattering the hull of an Ildran ship. It pitched forward and began to fall from the sky. A great cheer went up from the walls only to die as the first echoing booms cracked the air. Sulphurous smoke billowed like clouds and seconds later destruction rained down on the fort. The armada sailed overhead, barely slowing in its progress towards the capital.

  ***

  Her Imperial Majesty the Revered Essedra of Amar looked to the neat formal gardens beyond, their fountains and the younger members of her family playing there. Oh to be young again and free of burden. She turned reluctantly from the arch allowing the fine voile to float back and moved to stand behind her chair. Resplendent in a gown of the finest silk, she was a symbol of her country’s prosperity and power. Every decision, every word carefully considered, she had ruled for 50 years and steered her government and country to a position of power and wealth matched only by Hallorn, Ildra and Nebessa. Leaving behind the isolationist views of her forbearers she had slowly but firmly nudged her people into a new age.

  “…and you say a powder was used in the attacks?”

  “Yes Ma’am,” The Chancellor answered. “It is a mixture of sulphur, charcoal and a nitrate. Mixed in the right proportions its destructive powers are considerable. The barrels would have been indistinguishable from any others loaded onto the ships.” Garrick shook his head. “None of the delegates would have been able to sense the danger they and their ships were in as they returned home. The powder has to be ignited in order to release the energy stored in its components. Exactly how this was achieved remotely we are still uncertain.”

  “Carrick.”

  “Yes Ma’am?”

  “Does your Order have knowledge of this weapon?”

  “Yes. Like most of the Orders we have considerable knowledge of the properties of various combinations of materials and elements, though our abilities to manipulate the field have always negated any need to develop the use of such primitive weapons. The prevailing peace since the Great War meant that they were still considered redundant, despite the limit imposed by The Field’s Cap.”

  Essedra nodded. “Quite. But it would appear Segat and perhaps Naicarn have a different view. A view that has us scrabbling to gain an equal footing against this powder weapon. I can defend my borders against an open attack but this more subversive, this more cowardly approach will require us to learn new skills if we are to prevail.”

  Her Chief Advisor, Lord Erass spoke. “We are exploring the possibility that spies exist within our own ranks, informants who supplied departure information allowing the barrels to be placed on the correct ships. All cargo is now checked by sight as well as talent and we can once again guarantee the safety of our shipping.”

  The Empress moved to stand behind his chair. “A vital guarantee but one that we should have been able to provide to the visiting Orders. These subversives within our own walls must be captured and made to pay for their acts.” Essedra released her grip on the back of the chair, with a sigh. “The loss of so many lives.” She was also aware of the humiliating blow this had delivered to her and her country, so much of her work undone.

  “Indeed ma’am,” Erass inclined his head, “but a disaster that could have been far worse if the ships had exploded over the city. The death toll would have been far greater.”

  “How many were lost?” The Empress asked.

  “Out of the 40 Adepts, twenty-eight are dead and six are seriously injured. Those delegates choosing to delay their return home, until we had more news of Segat, were the lucky ones.” Erass drew on the information before him. “400 crew members were also killed or injured. At your instruction their families have been duly compensated.”

  “How does one compensate the loss of a life with money,” Essedra said. “It has been a long time since I felt this helpless.”

  Eras turned in his chair to look at her, “You have never been that my queen,” he said gently.

  Essedra patted his shoulder. Carrick made some pretence at looking at papers before him but was surprised by the familiarity between the two. But then Erass had been by her side right from the start of her reign. How could they not be close?

  “Ma’am,” Carrick noted a detail in the information before him, “six of those Adepts were Order Heads. This appears to have been timed to create the maximum amount of destruction, chaos and terror in the south.”

  The Empress nodded. “We are confused and weakened. Just how I would want my enemy before I attacked. This may only be the beginning of a greater design.” She folded her arms. “Still no word from Ballan?”

  “I’m afraid not Ma’am,” The Chancellor answered. “His last dispatch came before they attempted to cross into Coth. We are increasingly concerned by their delayed return. We have dispatched our fastest sky ship in an attempt to locate them.”

  “Could it be that the contingent has been unsuccessful in capturing Naicarn?” she asked looking directly at Gattick.

  “That is a possibility,” The Chancellor admitted reluctantly. “Navigating The Marauders’ Way would need preparation. They would then have to pick up Naicarn’s trail again, capture him and return. That would all take time. Our concerns could be unfounded.”

  Chapter 11

  VaCalt scrunched up the report and then hit the desk, her anger needing further expression and then almost as quickly flattened her hands on the surface as she fought to bring her annoyance under control. She rose and walked to a small beaten metal bowl atop a wooden stand. She rolled back the loose sleeves of her amber robe and distracted herself with the ritual, one of a few she now allowed in The Order. She ran her hands through the stands candle flame and washed them in the bowl, following the set order she had been taught as an initiate. She still remembered her harsh mistress, even now after nearly seventy years. She smoothed water over her shaved head several times and allowed it to run where it might, taking her unwanted thoughts with it. The sensations distracted her and focused her mind on the present. And so when a knock begged entry she allowed it.

  “Prime,” her initiate spoke, eyes lowered. “Culsen awaits your pleasure.”

  VaCalt did not answer but continued the ritual. The initiate waited silently. She would have waited all day if it were wished.

  VaCalt dried her hands and returned to her desk. “Send him in,” she said finally.

  Culsen entered and bowed deeply. VaCalt nodded in acceptance and gestured for him to be seated.

  “I am in no mood for bad news Culsen,” she warned and flicked the paper to him. “Read.”

  Culsen smoothed out the sheet, making sure its state had no effect on his expression. He read quickly so as not to irritate and chose his words carefully.

  “So his highness…”

  “Imperial Highness,” VaCalt corrected. Referring to Segat in any other way meant at least a flogging and while she had no respect for the man she would not let herself or anyone useful to her be caught out by words.

  “Prime,” he said gratefully. Segat’s latest dictate had only just been decreed but was being vigorously enforced. Segat altered his title and the way he was to be addressed almost as much as his mood. “So his Imperial Highness has dispatched Imalt on a mission and we are unable to intercept any information about its aim or direction.” He put the paper down. “But in your wisdom you had him followed at all times. How could this be?”

  “Yet another failure,” VaCalt kept her voice cal
m. She would never allow anyone to see her in less than a state of perfect control. Even Culsen her most trusted. “This time at the hands of Ducat. Imalt’s initiate killed the Talent shadowing him.” VaCalt’s expression soured slightly she had been shown the remains of the body. There was no secret of the animosity between VaCalt and Imalt and any who chose to follow him. He wanted her position and she would ensure that he never reached Potent. She waited patiently for such evidence that would allow her to blacken his name, as for now at least, His Imperial Highness favoured Imalt.

  “His Imperial Highness doesn’t give you the respect and favour you deserve,” Culsen soothed. “Without you his ambitions would not have been realised. Your abilities, your foresight, your daring has set Ildra and our Order on the path to greatness. Does he not realise this? Does he forget the latest blow you have delivered Amaria and the Orders, a plan of sheer brilliance?”

  VaCalt nodded in modest acceptance of his words. “His Imperial Highness is ever looking for the next victory. He needs me, Culsen but he does not value or trust me, or any member of our Order for that matter. Hence The Imperial Guard.”

  Culsen’s face flashed with emotion, as all his Order did at the mention of The Imperial Guard. “Those creatures are an insult. Their existence disgusts me.”

  “And terrifies,” VaCalt noted ominously.

  Culsen met her chilling gaze for an instant, unsure of her meaning and then looked away. “He forces us to create a guard immune to the field and in doing so we create a means by which we could destroy every Talent on the face of Koa. As much as I despise them they could have been used to our advantage. Every country would have fallen to their knees without their Orders to bolster their defences. But before we could replicate them he has their creators executed - no murdered,” he added hotly.

  VaCalt shook her head. “You think it a bad thing?”

  “Why yes Prime. The continent would be at our feet,” Culsen added uncertainly.