by Sam Bowring
‘I never would have served you, Battu.’
‘Not in this unravelling. But if it had been you I retrieved from Whisperwood instead of Losara, you would have been brought up with shadow ways and never known different. And then,’ he rested his large head on his fist, ‘since you have no magic I would not have lost my throne to you.’
Bel scowled. ‘You don’t know that. You don’t know what paths fate would have shown me in such a circumstance. And if you had stood in my way as you must have done Losara’s, I would not have been so sloppy as to let you live.’
Battu grinned. ‘So the greatest exception is taken not to whether you would have served the shadow, but to being told you couldn’t defeat me? Ha! Spirit then, a fighter’s heart …why could I not have been delivered this one?’ He cast an imploring look at the universe.
‘You did not get along with Losara?’ said Bel, trying to bring the conversation back where he wanted it.
‘You and I,’ said Battu, ignoring the question, ‘are not without our commonalities, Blade Bel. I am a fighter too, you know. In fact, I disobeyed orders from the Dark Gods themselves because of my quarrelsome nature, when I marched upon the Shining Mines …where I met your father, as I’m sure you’re aware.’
‘I obey my god,’ said Bel darkly.
‘Yes, yes. But it’s the desire I draw on to make my comparison, to prove oneself through strength.’
‘And the example you provide,’ said Bel, ‘goes to show that a warrior can threaten the life of an almighty Shadowdreamer.’
‘And yes,’ smiled Battu, ‘here is another divide between you and your counterpart. You argue that you could have overthrown me just as he did, indeed you persist with the topic when I consider it already dealt with, whereas such a competitive thought would never enter Losara’s mind.’
‘What do you mean?’
Battu shrugged, a real one this time. ‘I suppose he does not measure his deeds against those of others.’
Bel shook his head. Why were they even talking about this? What did it matter whether Bel would have bested Battu or not, had he been raised in Losara’s place?
‘Enough,’ he said. ‘This has nothing to do with anything. I wish to know about Losara.’
‘I thought that’s what I was telling you.’
‘Be more direct. Come, you have a vested interest in our victory tomorrow. Here is a chance for you to help secure it.’
‘What do you want to know?’
‘Is Losara weak? Is he slight of character?’
‘Ah,’ said Battu, a glimmer in his eye, ‘I see. You are fearful of the change, and who wouldn’t be? In which case I will tell you – I have ever found Losara a disappointment. Oh, he has power enough, yet he is weak in its wielding. As you can see,’ he gestured at himself, ‘he allowed me to escape, before which he was even reluctant to fight back. During our battle, he had the opportunity to kill my guards, yet he did not take it. He did not finish Roma when they fought, though the man sought to steal from him the title of Apprentice and would gladly have murdered him where he stood. But it isn’t just that type of thing. When he was a child, he was difficult to stir. Whether I was meting out punishment or praise, he’d stare at me as if he never understood anything. He’d wander about the castle endlessly by himself, not doing much of anything, not laughing and running or causing mischief, just drifting about. His only friend was as insubstantial as he, a demented ghost. And he never,’ Battu screwed up his face, ‘took pleasure in fine food. The Dark Gods bless him because they have no other choice, yet he is nothing but torn skin in their grasp.’
Bel found Battu’s words, and obvious disdain, extremely encouraging. ‘Then it will be as Arkus promised,’ he murmured. ‘I will remain, and Losara will disappear.’
‘Let us pray to Arkus that it will be so,’ said Battu, wearing a twisted expression.
He needs to believe it as much as you do , whispered a voice in the back of Bel’s mind, so he tells you what you both need to hear.
Be gone, little niggle , he replied. You will have company enough soon, in what-used-to-be-Losara, and he will be as easily suppressed as you.
‘Suppose I should try to get some sleep,’ he said, rising.
He left Battu and returned to his camp. Querrus was nowhere to be seen – maybe Fahren had summoned him, for he had spoken of needing each and every mage.
Hang watching the mander , he thought. I’m going to bed.
•
Jaya lay awake, staring at the roof of the tent, nervous about tomorrow’s charge. Perhaps she was no soldier, but neither were plenty of others who would fight. Still, she preferred night and subtlety to open sky and clashing swords. One could not sneak through a battlefield.
If it weren’t for Bel, she would not even be here.
The tent flap pulled back and he crawled into the tent. ‘Still awake?’ he said, lying down and slipping an arm around her. She rolled into his embrace and grunted an affirmative.
He took a deep breath. ‘I’m worried about you tomorrow.’
‘Why?’
He paused, and she guessed he was choosing his words carefully. ‘I know you want to fight, Jaya, and …well, I do not doubt your ability, let that be plain. But I will need to concentrate, more than I ever have in my entire life. I worry that knowing you’re somewhere in that fray will distract me.’
‘I can look after myself,’ she said, trying to sound stubborn.
‘I know you can, but don’t you see what I mean? My mind will be on you constantly, wondering where you are and if you’re all right. It is no,’ he gave her a squeeze, ‘slight on your skill.’
‘And what about you?’ she said. ‘You think I won’t worry about you?’
Here it was, then, the moment she’d been waiting for. Pride dictated that she argue, though she wanted nothing more than to agree with him. She couldn’t let him know that, however.
‘There is no backing out for me,’ he said. ‘Jaya, you know I have to go.’
How to make her acceptance seem reluctant?
‘Remember the trolls we fought at the Arkus Heights?’ she said.
‘Of course.’
‘Afterwards you asked me to fight at your back. That way you don’t have to watch out for me so much if you’re taken by the frenzy, and we can protect each other.’
‘That was different. Those stupid trolls didn’t know who I was, but tomorrow I’ll have the largest of targets on me. Standing at my back is probably the least safe place to be.’ He rested a hand on her bare stomach. ‘Jaya, please understand …my effectiveness tomorrow is of paramount importance, even if it comes at the cost of insulting you. If I lose focus for a split second at the wrong moment, it could spell disaster for all Kainordas. Can’t you please, for once, see the grander scheme of things?’
The comment riled her, and she felt objections building in her mouth, clamouring to get out. Don’t go too far , she warned herself. If you manage to convince him to let you fight, it will be hard to take back. She swallowed her anger, and fell silent.
‘Jaya?’ he ventured.
She gave a big sigh, trying not to seem too affected. ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘If it is that important. Let it not be said that Jaya Kincare is the reason why the light failed.’
He held her tight then. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered. ‘Thank you, my good friend. I was afraid you would not see my point, but knowing that you’re safe, I’ll be able to enjoy myself properly.’
‘Enjoy?’ she said.
‘Just a turn of phrase,’ he said quickly. ‘Maybe not the right one. You know what I mean.’
‘Just so long as you remember that I’ll be fearful for your safety too. All this talk of the grander scheme, when really you’re looking forward to having some fun? You make it sound like you’ve just talked me out of attending a drinking session with your old barracks comrades.’
‘No, no! That’s not how I meant it.’
She decided to let him off lightly. ‘It’s all right, Bel. I know you
like to swing your sword about. Maybe it’s right that you do. I just hope you aren’t trivialising the situation.’
‘Honestly, I am just relieved you won’t be at risk.’
Me too , she thought.
‘Very well, then,’ she said. ‘And now, just in case we both die tomorrow, how about …’ She took his hand where it lay on her stomach, and moved it upwards.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘it would be unfair to talk my lady out of all her wishes.’
‘How kind of you, sir,’ she said with a throaty chuckle.
•
Fahren sat in his tent, smoking and poring over a map of Fenvarrow. He wasn’t exactly sure why …maybe because, if they defeated the shadow army, there would still be a lot of enemy land left standing. Emptied and depleted, maybe, but standing.
A worry for another day.
He pushed the map away wearily, for it was suddenly the last thing he wanted to look at. He felt less sprightly these days, less like a young man in an old man’s body, and more just like an old man.
War will do that, I suppose.
‘Someone here to see you, my Throne,’ came the voice of a guard from outside the tent.
Fahren sighed. Always there would be someone to see him, forever and ever. ‘Who?’ he said.
‘My name is Querrus,’ came another voice. ‘I’m the mage who has been with Blade Bel these past –’
‘Enter,’ said Fahren.
Querrus, a bald, wiry fellow, pulled back the tent flap.
‘Have a seat,’ said Fahren, gesturing at his little table, a luxury afforded the Throne in a camp short on supplies.
‘Thank you, lord,’ said Querrus, sitting down.
‘And thank you,’ said Fahren, ‘for aiding Bel. I’m told you have a gift for speed.’
‘The horse helps,’ said Querrus, and Fahren smiled.
‘What did you wish to see me about?’
Querrus’s expression grew serious. ‘I felt I had to come,’ he said. ‘I do not want to betray a confidence, especially that of a friend, but …well, you are the Throne. And perhaps you already know what I’m here to report, but I still consider it my duty.’
‘Report, then.’
Querrus ran a hand over his scalp. ‘During my time with Bel, I learned something disturbing. It might not have been his first wish to tell me, but he needed to convince me to stand by him while the shadow rolled towards us.’
‘Go on,’ said Fahren, though a weight had begun to press on his stomach.
‘I will just come out and say it,’ sighed Querrus. ‘I have come to understand that if Bel dies, so will the Shadowdreamer, and vice versa – such is the nature of their connectedness.’
Casually Fahren reached for his tobacco pouch, his heart pounding. ‘I see. And have you told anyone else of this?’
‘No, my Throne, I thought only to come to you. You knew already?’
Fahren gave the slightest nod. Well did he know of what Querrus spoke, for it had kept him awake many a night. Kill Bel and the dreamer dies, the single worst danger to Kainordas eliminated. It was a terrible thought, the very last option if everything went bad, if it looked as though Losara would win. Yet it was Fahren’s choice alone to make, and he did not trust it to any other.
‘What do you suggest we do with this information?’ he asked.
‘I’m not sure. Perhaps – by Arkus I do not suggest this lightly – but it could be something worth knowing if things don’t go according to plan.’ The mage suddenly looked worried. ‘Honestly I do not wish Bel any harm. I only dream of suggesting it because there’s so much at stake. And it is not my decision – I merely thought to report what I had discovered to you, my Throne.’
‘No one wants to return to the old balance,’ said Fahren. ‘A world at war and no one ever winning.’
‘Of course,’ said Querrus, his head bobbing up and down.
‘A very last resort,’ said Fahren.
He sat back in his chair, imagining the two armies fighting. Querrus was standing with Bel while around them Kainordans fell in droves, the shadow clearly having gained the upper hand. A moment of doubt would be all it took, weakness when one thought one was doing the right thing – and yet battles could turn when all seemed lost. Fahren hated knowing what he did about Bel and Losara, wished he did not …and certainly could not trust it to anyone else at this critical stage, for now was when it could do the most harm.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
Querrus looked quizzical. ‘My Throne?’
Fahren flicked a finger at him, shooting out a sleep spell that clouded Querrus’s eyes. The mage slumped forward, began to fall from his seat. Fahren caught him and lowered him gently to the ground.
‘I cannot abide you knowing this,’ he whispered, ‘when I don’t even trust myself to.’
It had been a long time since he’d tinkered with anyone’s memory, for it was not something he chose to do frivolously. The last time had been when baby Bel was first retrieved from Whisperwood, and the mages who had found him foolishly announced it to the world. Seeking to protect Bel, Fahren had had them falsify his death and give out that he’d been a fake, then ordered them brought to him one by one to erase events from their minds. And now, years later, he would use the same method to protect Bel once again. Closing his eyes, he set a hand on Querrus’s brow and delved into his mind. It was no simple matter to find specific memories, for minds were large and tangled places. As he searched, he became privy to various random moments in Querrus’s life, which made him feel like an ugly invader. A recent one rose to the surface – Querrus clinging to Bel as they rode a horse towards the Shining Mines, the mage’s excitement mixed up with the draining of his strength. Commendable that he had put everything into speeding Bel so quickly …but at this point he did not yet possess the dangerous knowledge. Fahren followed the line of the memory – from where to pluck it loose? He did not want to remove all of Querrus’s recent doings from recollection – not only was that cruel, but the mage might still be useful. If he could just find the place where Querrus had learned Bel’s secret, perhaps he could remove it cleanly …but the line was short, disappearing into darkness. As a scout and a mage, Querrus was prepared for this type of violation, had realised the information was important enough to bury somewhere.
Trained to keep it safe from the enemy, should he be caught , thought Fahren. But he was as skilled as any Overseer at discovering things hidden in minds, and so he persevered. There , he saw it, just a glimpse for a moment, a conversation had between Querrus and Bel. It receded into other threads, which tried to hide it again amongst them. Desperately, Fahren grasped at it and held on fast. As he wrenched, there was a snapping, as the threads that entangled it came loose too. He shook the memory free, knowing he was damaging other parts of the mind, but he could not stop now – it was done already, he had come too far. Finally, he held the memory alone, and dissolved it away until it was no longer a part of Querrus. He withdrew to his body once again, fearful of what injury he had done to the mage.
On the ground, Querrus’s eyes were open, yet unseeing.
Oh, Arkus.
‘Can you hear me?’ said Fahren. He snapped his fingers in front of Querrus’s face, but the mage did not blink.
Fahren sat back, horrified by what he had done.
The secret had been buried too deeply.
Clash
As dawn heated the air inside the tent, Losara rubbed his eyes, wishing for the argument to cease. Across the bedding, an incensed pixie was crouched on all fours as if about to pounce. Actually, he did not put it past her.
‘You are, aren’t you?’ she cried. ‘You’re still thinking about it!’
‘Lalenda,’ he said, ‘I have to consider all the options. I do not care for this war, it taxes my heart –’
‘Assedrynn eat your heart! It does not matter how you feel as long as your people are safe! Remember your dream …remember how Fenvarrow will fall if you do not prevail.’
‘I
do,’ he sighed. ‘I remember it well. And that is why we both must accept that this may be necessary. I am not talking about giving up.’
Shouts arose in the camp and Losara cocked an ear, wondering what was going on this time. Then the shadow-shape of Roma rose in the corner of the tent.
‘My lord,’ he said excitedly, looming in. ‘Forgive the intrusion but – they are coming!’
‘What?’ said Losara.
‘The Kainordans – they are coming!’
He and Lalenda exchanged wide-eyed looks.
‘Go!’ she said.
‘I love you,’ he told her. Then he turned to shadow and sped after Roma. Around him the army was alive with movement, readily stirring from the stagnation of waiting. A thundering sounded in the distance, and as Losara appeared at the front line between Roma and Tyrellan, he saw that the Kainordan army was indeed charging towards them.
‘Archers make ready!’ shouted Tyrellan. ‘Graka to formations! Catapults set!’ He noticed Losara. ‘Shadowdreamer! They advance despite the mander.’
Out on the field, the creature was running back and forth hectically, desperate to get at the masses who pounded towards it – was Bel amongst them? Did his other call his bluff, and expect him to move the mander out of the way, as he had done outside Fort Tria?
Leading the charge was a figure he recognised – Fahren, his vibrant blond hair streaming behind as he bounced up and down on horseback, his beard over his shoulder, the Auriel a bright spark on his brow as he raised a staff over his head. Four others rode alongside him, and Losara took them in with varying degrees of interest.
A tall man wearing a silver breastplate rode upon a large grey horse, its tack glinting with metal studs. From his hip he pulled an ornate broadsword, which most would need two hands to wield, but which he held aloft with one as he roared. Gerent Brahl.
Next to Brahl was a man in full armour, gold and resplendent in the sun, his head hidden by a heavy helmet – could that be Bel? Why would he hide his face, especially if he wanted Losara to withdraw the mander?
There was also a fair young mage in a white Overseer’s dress who seemed vaguely familiar somehow, and yet Losara could not place her.