The Bandit (Fall of the Swords Book 2)

by Scott Michael Decker

  For instance, compare a rapathon and a pyrathon having equal capacity reserves and equivalent focusing abilities. The pyrathon will deplete his or her reserves in an hour of infusing heat into an object a mile away. The rapathon can broadcast information across that same distance for twelve hours. Furthermore, the distance requirements for the accolade of Wizard differ depending on talent. A pyrokinetic Wizard must broadcast only five miles to earn the title, a telepathic Wizard at least twenty. Amplifying the upper end of the bandwidth requires much less energy than the lower end.

  The psychic flow uses the band of frequencies at the very highest wavelengths, where the physical distance between the waves is the shortest. These frequencies travel the farthest but contain the least amount of power, very little energy needed to send information. Since the upper end of the bandwidth travels farther on less energy, the highest frequencies at twenty thousand cps are strictly for public information, and sometimes, misinformation. The originator of information doesn't have to be a telepath with good range. Since nearly everyone has telepathy in some trace amount, a person having even a weak telepathic talent can send information a considerable distance. In addition, most people amplify the flow when consulting it. Therefore, the next person amplifies an announcement generated by the first person, even a weak telepath, if considered important enough.

  In addition to being the medium for most public announcements, the flow serves as a source of general information. A stranger wanting to know the location of a person or place nearby needs only to place the question on the flow, which soon supplies an answer.

  The flow also carries psychic signature information. Most people, even when shielded, emit certain personal identifiers. Two strangers approaching each other need only to consult the flow to find out the other's name.—The Great Universal Mind, by the Sorcerer Flowing Mind.

  * * *

  Nodding to Leaping and Fawning Elk in the darkness, Slithering Snake eased himself to his haunches. All three faced eastward, in the direction of the Tiger Fortress, waiting, knowing, dreading.

  Briefly, the sectathon consulted the psychic flow.

  Thirty minutes until midnight, and the Eastern Armed Forces were three miles from the fortress, ahead of schedule.

  Having lived with the flow all his life, Slithering Snake wondered how he could possibly live without it. Nearly ubiquitous, the psychic flow reached into the most sparsely populated areas of all four Empires. The news of the impending attack had traveled like lightning across the continent within the first few minutes of the Eastern Armed Forces' departure from Burrow two hours ago. Thus, the people of all four Empires waited breathlessly.

  Two weeks ago, the three bandits—Leaping Elk, his mate and his lieutenant—had found out the time and day of Guarding Bear's siege, courtesy of the Matriarch Bubbling Water. In exchange, she'd asked for the information that the tiger had gleaned from the Empire's spies. Since most of it was out of date, Leaping Elk had agreed without a qualm.

  For two days, the three of them had discussed ways of informing the bandit general without informing him. Discretion had been tantamount. The source of the information had to remain secret, yet had to carry weight enough to induce Scowling Tiger to reschedule his conference. Finally, they'd decided to send one of Scowling Tiger's own band members to him.

  With the menagerie animal's help, they'd lured north a worthless drudge in sewage reclamation and pampered him for a day. Then the Wizard tiger had stripped the man's mind of all referential information and implanted the desired behavior. Then they'd smuggled him back into the fortress. Turning him loose, they'd prayed he'd come to Scowling Tiger's attention before too much time had passed.

  He had.

  A week ago, Flashing Blade had appeared at Leaping Elk's caves to tell the Southerner that Scowling Tiger had delayed the conference a week. The conspiracy members had heaved collective sighs and wiped their collective brows.

  On the eve of the siege, at sunset, Leaping and Fawning Elk had left the caves and traveled a few miles north to listen in on the psychic flow. Slithering Snake joined them a half-hour before the siege was to begin, the earthquake delaying his arrival. “Would you have gone, Lord Elk, if Scowling Tiger hadn't rescheduled?” he asked in the Southern tongue.

  Leaping Elk shrugged, his shoulders scraping the stone behind him. The three of them stood in front of a twenty-foot sheer rock face. Sitting at its base, Fawning Elk tried to get comfortable. The sectathon guessed she'd never get comfortable, as enormously pregnant as she was.

  “I don't know if I'd have gone, Lord Snake. I just don't know. How was the temblor at the caves? Anyone hurt? Any damage?”

  Slithering Snake shook his head. “It was stronger than the one two weeks ago. The caves held up well. A crack appeared in the rock near the entrance. That's all the damage I saw. I had our chemathon examine the structural integrity. She says the entrance will hold through a temblor a lot stronger than that one. I didn't spelunk into the mountain to find out if the earthquake damaged the pool area.”

  The Southern bandit nodded. “Thank you for having her check it. Good idea. Later we'll have her examine the rest of the tube, eh?”

  “That's wise, Lord,” the sectathon replied. “How are you feeling, Lady?”

  “Ever meet an elephant with a rotten tusk?”

  Leaping Elk guffawed.

  Slithering Snake shook his head, puzzled.

  Leaping Elk explained. “On the savannas of the Southern Empire, an elephant's tusk sometimes gets infected, causing the nerve inside to hurt like the Infinite. Not much different from a toothache, eh? When that happens, the elephant sometimes goes rogue—rampaging wildly across the plains. Rogue elephants have trampled whole villages before.”

  The sectathon nodded. “Not your usual vivacious self, Lady Elk?”

  She gave him a black look.

  Slithering Snake laughed, liking her and sympathizing.

  “Look, you man,” she said, “you don't have any idea of the discomfort. Until you're willing to have your sex changed and get pregnant, don't even try to sympathize, eh?”

  Startled by the invective in her voice, Slithering Snake merely nodded and looked contrite.

  “I'm sorry, my friend,” she said. “I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.”

  “Blame your hormones,” Leaping Elk suggested. “Most women do.”

  “Men!” She picked up a handful of dirt and threw it at her mate. Then her face collapsed in a grimace of pain. The two men exchanged a glance and waited expectantly for her contraction to pass. She'd already had several false contractions.

  “Oh, blast it! My water just broke! Here we are, a few miles away from the caves.”

  “Lord Snake, fetch a group of bandits, eh? We'll have to carry her.”

  “No, Lord Snake, don't. Not necessary,” she said. “The walk will help with the delivery. Help me to my feet, eh?”

  The two men did as she bade them.

  She shook off their attempts to help her walk as well. “Men! Don't know anything about childbirth. I can walk and talk and do everything I need to do. I just need to stop for a moment when the contractions get painful.”

  Leaping Elk and Slithering Snake exchanged a glance and a smile. Just before another contraction struck, the sectathon consulted the flow.

  Imperial warriors were two miles from the fortress.

  * * *

  They'd gathered spontaneously. Women crowded the eastern hall of Emparia Castle, hundreds of them, more arriving every minute, a few men among them.

  Bubbling Water looked over the assemblage. Their presence uplifting, the support filled her with the strength of the Infinite. The tension was palpable. Over that, the women chatted amiably among themselves, unconcerned that Eastern Armed Forces—their mates and sons and fathers—approached the Tiger Fortress.

  Earlier that evening, Bubbling Water had requested an audience with the Consort Flowering Pine. The eve of battle was always the worst for Bubbling Water, when the
waiting rubbed her nerves raw. The not knowing—not knowing if her mate would return injured, not knowing if he'd return maimed, not knowing if he'd even return—tore away all her sense of security. When her fear had grown too great, Bubbling Water had asked for an audience with Flowering Pine, needing the security of a structure like Emparia Castle. Immediately, Flowering Pine had agreed. The Matriarch had come to the castle a few hours after sunset. A servant had shown her to the door of the Consort's suite.

  The two women had chatted like old friends, enjoying each other's company. When Bubbling Water had told her the purpose of her visit, Flowering Pine had laughed like a child and had graciously done what she could to help the Matriarch feel comfortable. The Consort's mindless loquacity and continual talk of inconsequentials had comforted Bubbling Water. She'd felt relieved to discuss anything but affairs of state, as was her predilection.

  While the two women were in the nursery, a servant had appeared to tell the Matriarch Water that the Matriarch Shading Oak had arrived to see her. Although she'd left word at the Bear residence of where she'd be, Bubbling Water hadn't expected anyone to follow. She'd then suggested that they meet Aged Oak's mate at the eastern hall, and Flowering Pine had agreed.

  As Shading Oak had entered the hall, the servant had reappeared to inform the Matriarch of another visitor.

  After the servant had informed Bubbling Water of a third visitor, Flowering Pine had instructed that servants immediately escort anyone who had appeared to see the Matriarch to the eastern hall.

  When told of the gathering of the women, Flying Arrow had ordered the castle shields shut off, enabling them to consult the psychic flow on events at the Tiger Fortress. The Emperor himself stood on one of the northern battlements of Emparia Castle, presiding over a gathering of mostly male nobles. All of them listened in on the flow like the women inside the castle.

  Now, fifteen minutes before midnight, fifteen minutes until the siege, women crowded the eastern hall, young and old, peasant and noble, rich and poor. All had come to support each other.

  Bubbling Water had seen these spontaneous gatherings before. On the day Guarding Bear had launched the invasion of the Northern Empire, the women had gathered. On the day almost a year later that Guarding Bear had begun the siege of Lofty Lion's castle, the women had gathered.

  The spontaneous gatherings didn't always occur, though. When the civil war between the Bear and Tiger Patriarchies had begun thirteen years before, Bubbling Water had spent a long, lonely night waiting for the news of battle. No one had been willing to support her in her vigil. No one had known who'd win.

  Shivering off the memory, she looked around the audience hall, perched on the second step of the dais.

  In the northwest corner of the hall were Spying Eagle's parents, Searching Eagle and Hovering Dove. Talking with them were the parents of the Wizard Searching Sight and Healing Hand's mother Gentle Hand, holding her infant daughter. They'd found each other on the basis of their sons' roles in the siege.

  At the base of the dais, the Consort lay on at least ten pillows, her vastly pregnant body uncomfortable no matter what position she tried. In two weeks the children were due. Set off by her emerald robes, her long auburn tresses flowed freely about her shoulders, looking like inverted tongues of flame licking at her breasts and abdomen. Smiling, Bubbling Water thanked her again for her hospitality.

  “Oh, Lady Matriarch, I wouldn't think of turning out half the Empire!” she said in her high-pitched, erratically inflected voice. Then she laughed with a staccato giggle that would've annoyed Bubbling Water on any other occasion.

  She smiled indulgently, liking the woman. Infinite help her to be a good mother, Bubbling Water prayed. She'll have the help of half an Empire, the Matriarch thought. Most women felt secretly relieved that a strife-filled interregnum wouldn't follow Flying Arrow's death. Interregnums were the worst of times.

  Earlier, the new arrivals had dutifully paid their respects to the Lady Consort, the braver among them asking to touch her swollen belly. Welcoming each of their blessings, Flowering Pine had parted her robes to let them rub the veined, distended abdomen. Watching from nearby, Bubbling Water had seen how the supplicants' expressions had changed from timorous awe to deep enchantment. The Matriarch had heard that Flowering Pine's talent ingratiated her into others' confidences. Witnessing the effects of that talent had filled her with boundless hope for the future of the Empire.

  More than likely, the twins would inherit this talent.

  Brazen Bear had been similarly charismatic, Bubbling Water remembered, nearly everyone liking the younger brother of Guarding Bear. The persuasive talent had undone him, however. The bandit general Scowling Tiger had taken umbrage at Fleeting Snow's mating the flame-haired, sky-eyed peasant.

  Bubbling Water diverted her thoughts, knowing where they led, having taken that dark, rueful path many times before. Instead, she prayed for her mate's success, having long ago grown tired of the incessant feud between him and the bandit general. She hoped this siege would be the last installment of a vendetta nearly thirty years old.

  Bubbling Water checked the time and lowered her shields. Ten minutes remained until the attack, Guarding Bear having scheduled the siege to begin at midnight, a propitious time. A time of ending, a time of beginning, the death of the old day, the birth of the new.

  A silence had settled upon the audience hall. Those assembled felt the pull of anticipation. Like a precipice when one stood at its edge, the moment drew them vicariously, luring them to take the irrevocable leap into the abyss of unknown. An Empire held its collective breath. And prayed.

  “I feel real hot,” Flowering Pine said suddenly, fanning herself with her hand. Her voice was distinctly audible despite the hundreds present in the audience hall. “My ass is sweating.”

  The Matriarch covered her laugh with a hand.

  The psychic flow reported that the cabal of Wizards and the battalion of warriors were within a mile of the Tiger Fortress. An image came to them on the flow of the shielded structure as an observer saw it with his or her psychic sight. It looked like a black cone of impenetrable shielding, each of the thousands of bumps an electrical shield.

  Suddenly the shields fell. The blackness lit up.

  The assembly expressed a collective gasp.

  Ten thousand smaller points of light defined the shape of light. Like a mountain covered with burning candles, each point of light was a bandit. Suddenly, a maleficent wind swept from the base to the apex, snuffing out the candles, the individual bandits falling asleep. Unnoticed, one point of light extinguished itself too soon. Darkness enveloped the mountain.

  A cheer went up. An Empire rejoiced.

  Weariness washed over Bubbling Water, the peripheral energy of the compulsion to sleep affecting all those listening to the flow. In the peripheral energy, she recognized the signature of Healing Hand.

  Flowering Pine cried out and clutched at her abdomen. “That hurt!” she complained, struggling to get to her feet. “I just peed in my robes or something.”

  Bubbling Water laughed and knelt at the Consort's side to help her up. On the back of Flowering Pine's robes was a dark stain that reached from her buttocks to her knees. “I think your water just broke, Lady Pine. You're in labor.”

  Chapter 22

  Moments after giving birth, a mother bestows upon her child half her psychic reserve. She thus imprints the child to recognize her and also imprints the fetal frontal lobes with the capacity for talent. Through this imprinting, a child develops a strong affinity with the mother and a psychic link that slowly fades but never breaks. Rarely does a mother not bestow the psychic gift. On the rare occasion that this happens, the child grows up crippled, bereft of a full range of senses and unable to participate fully in society.—Motherhood: Nature and Nurture.

  * * *

  “What the Infinite's happening in there?” Guarding Bear looked up from the base of the mountain, rubbing the pendant at his neck.

  Standing be
side him, the Wizard Searching Sight extended his palms toward the apex of the mountain, closing his eyes. “Something is killing our warriors, Lord General.”

  “What is it? Can you see it?” An electrical shield protecting him, Guarding Bear couldn't see past the barrier.

  “It's … an animal, Lord, a tiger who's kill—” Searching Sight crumpled beside him.

  Guarding Bear knew the Wizard was dead before he examined him. He muttered a curse. Another wrinkle in the plans. Switching off the electrical shield, he probed the upper levels of the fortress.

  There, a signature, but like few he'd ever seen. Feral energy emanated from a point two-thirds of the way up the central stairwell. Warriors approached it cautiously, their signatures tame in comparison. Suddenly, the tiger struck, searing the warriors with a bolt of heat. Flaming corpses plummeted down the core of the mountain.

  'All shields on when approaching the tiger!' Guarding Bear ordered, silently cursing their stupidity in not shielding themselves from the talent-endowed animal.

  Detecting the source of the order, the tiger tried to stab him with a knife of cold.

  Guarding Bear's talent twisted the beam back toward the tiger.

  Fending it off, the animal froze three warriors slow in obeying his command.

  A shielded warrior attacked the animal, slashing viciously with his sword.

  The tiger ripped her claws across the man's face, sending him off the stairwell with a broken neck, already dead.

  The man, Guarding Bear remembered, had been a veteran warrior. Like most of them, he'd never fought a tiger.

  “Lord Captain Gaze!” Guarding Bear barked.

  The dirt-blond sectathon approached, bowing. “Yes, Lord General.”

  “You're in command until I return, Lord Captain.” Guarding Bear stripped off his utility belt and robes.

  “That's madness, Lord General,” Probing Gaze protested.

  “Ever fought one of these animals, Lord Captain?”