Plague of Tyrants

by M. J. Sewall

Brenddel said, “I guess you won't get off that easy, my King. Nice try.”

  Over the chants, Asa sighed, “I guess you're stuck with me for a few more trials, Brenddel.”

  “I thank the gods for that,” said Brenddel.

  Chapter 50: New Kind of War

  The three large airships made their way over the old gates of Dard, the guard spires rising to meet them, then lowering back behind the wall to let their own airships pass.

  They landed in the capital city, the three sisters walking into the long courtyard that led to the old palace.

  Walking past guards to the inner chamber and the seven chairs, they joined their other sisters already waiting for them.

  “Back so soon?” said a sister, from her elegant chair. “Failure, then?”

  The fourth sister replied, “This Cayne was not the one. We need another plan to punish them all.”

  “The Outlanders failed as well,” said the fifth sister, sitting rigidly, eyes ablaze. “The mad queen killed herself but failed to kill the boy and his mother.”

  “It was a gamble, I grant you,” said yet another sister. The seven daughters of TrTorrin had all taken their seats. “We've lost nothing but time.”

  “We turn to my plan then,” said another sister, taking a long drink of wine, “It's a longer game, but it cannot fail. We just need time before the world is ours.”

  Miles from the capital, near where the Extatumm gas fields had been, before her sister Sandrell had blown them to the gods, Ardrell sat on her Jhalgon. Resting in the water, she was too alert to lean back against the large fin. The mission in the Outlands was over. Danette survived and would be the ruler to them all now. They would rebuild and reunite the families as best they could. Now Ardrell turned her attention back to her passion.

  Sandrell had destroyed their gashouse, but the man that had enslaved her sister still controlled these lands. He was dead, but his children lived. I will destroy you all, she thought, as she spotted a patrol boat not far away. She dove deep with her Jhalgon before she was seen. She would return, and take down the daughters of TrTorrin, and all of Extatumm.

  * * *

  A few days after Brenddel's return, the night of the Cayne's defeat, Gordon was feeling much better. The healing rooms were slowly emptied after everyone recovered from their injuries. Loren had insisted on making Gordon stay in the healing rooms for two solid days.

  Gordon didn't want to let anyone know how sick he had been. Loren knew the moment his nephew walked into the healing rooms that night, he was in a bad way. After listening to a short version of his adventures, and Gordon admitting he had given the rest of the sweetblood oil to the girl. Loren admonished him, “You could have died Gordon.”

  “But I didn't.”

  “Look at you, son,” said Ellice, “you're half dead already.”

  Loren said, “I need to get you some oil now, and into bed to make sure…”

  “Soon,” Gordon said, wearily, the dark circles under his eyes impossible to hide. “How is she?”

  They stood over the bed of Brill, the girl they had taken with them from the tower. Her eyes still looked sunken in their sockets, but she was sleeping deeply after Loren had given her a strong potion. Gordon could tell she'd been crying before she slept.

  Loren said, “She's alive, but it's only because you knew what was happening to her.”

  “I can't believe her mother did this to her.”

  Loren agreed, but tried to understand, “Sounds like she went mad with grief. Her son had died, and she knew her daughter was dying. She created the fantasy in her mind that to save her, her last child must become a god.”

  “Will she live?” asked Ellice.

  “I think so, but I've never treated a child so far gone,” said Loren. “But you're still here Gordon, so I have hope.”

  Gordon felt strange, “I… I think I need to lay down now.”

  He was told later that he'd actually collapsed. Loren treated him and Gordon slept for nearly two days, Loren and Ellice watching over him every moment. When he finally woke, he wanted to ask if Aline had visited him, but it felt awkward, so he didn't.

  His fingers were covered with healing cloth from the small pinpricks he had to endure to keep his blood in balance. Luckily, Loren had built more machines, but Gordon would never get used to sticking his fingers. It would be a new kind of war, and Gordon would have to fight it every day.

  On the fourth day back, Gordon found a note in his room. He asked Aline about it, thinking it was some joke, since she had passed him a note on that first day in the palace.

  Aline said that it wasn't, and she was angry someone could get that close to a king without anyone knowing. She went with him to find out who had written it.

  The note said:

  I must speak to you, king of dreams. Our world is still on the edge of a knife.

  It gave the name of a boat at the king's dock. They found the meeting place. Aline said, “Looks suspicious. Be ready for anything. I told you we should have brought guards.”

  Gordon smiled, “I have you. It's liking having four guards.”

  He thought that she would smile, but her eyes narrowed. Compliments always made her suspicious.

  There was no one on deck, but Aline kept her shortknife out anyway. Inside the small boat was no place to swing around a longknife. Shortknives were better for close fighting. There was only one person on board. He sat very still, with his palms facing up. Aline did not put her knife away, looking around to make sure it was not a trap.

  Gordon said, “I'm sorry… I don't remember your name.”

  “Valren. Thank you for coming King Gordon. You won't need that, my girl, I would not harm you.”

  Aline kept her knife out. “Not while I'm holding this knife, you won't.”

  “As you wish.” said Valren with little emotion.

  He still hadn't blinked.

  “You're the mystic,” said Gordon, “from Trunculin's trial.”

  “Yes.” was his only reply. They sat on a bench opposite the mystic. The silence continued.

  Gordon asked, “Um… so, Valren. What can I do for you?”

  “That is the perfect question,” replied Valren.

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  Valren continued, “It is perfect because it conveys many ideas at once. You didn't ask what I want; you formed your question as though you were here to serve me, even though we have never met. But, Gordon, I do think you want something from me also.”

  “I do,” replied Gordon, “I had another dream that, well… it kind of came true. You were in one of my dreams.”

  “Yes. I know,” said Valren.

  “How?”

  “I don't know,” replied Valren honestly. “It has never happened before with anyone else.” The mystic looked into Gordon's eyes.

  “Are you in my mind?” asked Gordon. “Did you put this dream into my head?”

  Valren finally blinked, “No. But I'm sure I dreamed the same vision.”

  “Vision? Do you think I'm a mystic?”

  He paused for a long time. “No. A mystic has specific talents. We can almost… smell another mystic. You are not one of us. You are a boy, just a very different boy.”

  “What does that mean? Is he playing the role of the 'chosen one' again?” asked Aline.

  Valren answered, “I mean, I don't know what you are.”

  “Is this going to get more confusing? I'm already getting a headache,” asked Aline.

  Valren explained, “You are not a mystic, but you have dreams that are like visions. I tried to get into your mind once but could not. When I got close, it was like I was on the edge of your mind, looking over a wall. I saw your vision dream of the world on fire, but that is all. Now we dream the same vision, or have the same vision of a dream, and I want to know why.”

  “What was your dream?” asked Gordon.

  “A tower exploding, a skeleton bleeding,” replied Valren.

  A cold chill ran up and down Gordon. “That w
as you I saw on the edge of my dream, standing on Salban's fingers.”

  “Yes. A version of me, maybe. And a version of you was in my dream vision.”

  Aline rubbed her head, “Great. It is getting more confusing.”

  Gordon thought for a moment before asking his next question, “Did you have something to do with the people in the forest, the Outlanders?”

  “Yes,” Valren said, “My guild had created a powerful thing, and it could be used in many ways. We had to test it, to see how people would use it.”

  Gordon realized, “You mean the black powder? The weapon that explodes?”

  “Yes, we created the powder, but left the uses for it up to the Outlanders,” said Valren, back to not blinking. “It went very badly.”

  Aline understood, “You mean you experiment with people's lives? You put the black powder in the hands of a madwoman just to see what would happen? What gives you the right to do that?”

  “I don't understand the question.”

  “Doesn't playing with people's lives like that… do the Mystic Guild think they are gods?” asked Aline.

  “No,” Valren seemed confused, “it is our responsibility to help the world of men.”

  Gordon asked, “You mean you are not men?”

  “We are flesh, we can die. But no, we are not men, not exactly. Not anymore.”

  Gordon got a dizzy with the confusing answers. He felt a thousand questions swimming in his mind, but none would come to the surface. Finally, one broke through, “Did you send me to the girl, knowing that I could help her?”

  Valren slowly shook his head. “No, Gordon. But somehow you found yourself in a dangerous place where only you could save that girl. Your illness is very rare, always fatal. Yet, your uncle has kept you alive, and you found your way to a girl with the same illness nearly halfway across the world. How?”

  Gordon wanted answers, not questions. “I don't know.”

  Valren still showed no emotion. “I don't like things I don't understand,” said Valren, “I know not why you have these dreams, or why I dream of you, King Gordon.”

  “Are we connected somehow?” asked Gordon.

  Valren considered this. “It seems so. All mystics have different talents, some are stronger than others. My talent is that I see possible futures.”

  “Possible futures?” asked Aline.

  “Yes. The hundreds, thousands of choices people make every day change the outcome of the future. You may turn left, instead of right, avoiding a horse that will trample you to death. You dying suddenly might have meant you had no children, thus cutting off a line that might have changed the future. We touch thousands of lives, each choice creates a possible future that sometimes I can see.”

  “Like my dream?” asked Gordon.

  “What do you mean?” Aline asked Gordon.

  “My dream, visions, whatever you call them. I began having those months before the choosing, but they changed a little each time. When the battle at grey mists happened, the future was totally different than my dream, but similar: Brenddel and Mantuan were fighting, not each other. I didn't fall too far before I grabbed that rope. But there was still a spirit of truth.”

  Valren agreed, “Exactly. The choices are constantly changing, and they changed the future you originally saw.”

  Gordon asked, “This happens to you all the time? How do you not go mad?”

  “Some people think mystics are mad,” Valren did not smile.

  “And if you can see the future, even possible ones,” asked Gordon, “why didn't you know what Trunculin was planning?”

  “Trunculin had a very strong mind, and a long memory. He was told by one of the first mystics that helped prolong his life that the process would make him almost invulnerable to all of the mystic gifts. It is hard to explain, but simply put, what we did for him made our extra senses blind.”

  Aline asked, “Then why help him at all?”

  “He offered us something we could not resist. A path to shape the future directly.”

  “Why was that important to your guild?” asked Gordon.

  “Trunculin let us experiment over a long period of time. Mystics search for truth about how the universe actually works. How the gods work, or if there is an even deeper machinery that runs all that we can see and know. In our work, we invent things, create new machines, new ways of doing things. They must be tried on a small scale before they can be unleashed onto the whole world.”

  “Like the exploding powder?” asked Aline.

  “Yes, or airships,” said Valren.

  “You invented airships?”

  “Not directly. We leave elements of discovery laying around for the right people to find,” Valren said. “Then we watch.”

  Aline shook her head, “It was you that told Queen Crys we would attack them.”

  “It was a fellow mystic. We had to undo the damage and destroy the new weapon. The world is not ready for it.”

  “You made us clean up your mess, you mean,” said Aline, “Playing gods again.”

  “Not at all. You must look at intent. Our intent is to discover truth. With a man like TrTorrin or Trunculin, their intent is simply to have control, vast power over people.”

  “So, what do you want from me?”

  “I wanted only to meet you. I had hoped some answers might reveal themselves. But now, I know I need to tell you about my fear.”

  “Mystics feel fear?” asked Gordon.

  “Oh yes. Because we see much, it is not easy to frighten us. But I have seen many possibilities. The same dark threads through many of them must mean something. I don't know why you and I see some of the same things. But you may see more. If so, I would like you to tell me.”

  “What kinds of things?” asked Gordon.

  “You will know them,” said Valren, “They always include blood, and pain, and the death of half our world. This time my guild is taking a stronger interest.”

  “How?”

  “A deep division has been created. The truth of Trunculin, and now the near war on your kingdom from all sides, had made many of us question how much we should get involved with the world of men. My guild is becoming divided.”

  “But if the mystics have been guiding important events in the world, and now they are unsure of themselves, where will that lead?” reasoned Gordon.

  “Our world on fire?” Asked Aline accusingly.

  “Yes. That is the future I fear.” admitted Valren.

  Aline said, “So, things are going to get worse. Awesome.”

  Gordon asked, “How do I contact you if I have these dreams? If we need help or information?”

  “I can't stay in one place for long. Not anymore. If you need me, just remember my name during one of these dreams, speak it while asleep, and I will find you.”

  Gordon shook his head, “Why do I keep getting answers, but feel more confused by the end?”

  “Even mystics have uncertain futures. I wish I had more answers to give.” said Valren. “Now you must go. I will depart within the hour, after I am attuned. Good luck King Gordon.” To Aline he nodded courteously.

  Gordon and Aline got up. They were about to go, but Gordon turned back to the mystic. His eyes were already closed.

  “Good luck, Valren.” said Gordon.

  The mystic did not answer. He just sat with his eyes closed.

  Aline realized she had been holding her knife the entire time. Her hand ached from how hard she'd been grasping it. She didn't feel any more at ease when she put her knife away.

  Gordon and Aline made their way back to the palace, a new cloud over the future. They tried to lighten the moment by discussing the fact that this was the very path that they had taken on horseback to escape the kingdom, half a year before. Gordon spotted his mother overlooking the sea. She dropped something in, and then started walking back. She noticed them, and walked back on the path with them.

  “What were you doing, mother?”

  Ellice smiled sadly. “Just dropping
a flower in the water. We finished getting the whole story out of Tolan. Harlow is dead.”

  “Dead? When, how?” Aline asked.

  “Tolan got the information from Harlow, then poured fire on his ship.”

  “That's awful,” said Gordon, threading his hand into hers, “I'm sorry mother.”

  “We push on, my son.” said Ellice, “I'm just glad you are both safe. Someday you should write these adventures down in a book. No one would believe it, of course. Exploding towers, people riding giant fish. Sounds like a storybook for children.”

  “How's the girl? I haven't visited her today,” asked Gordon.

  “Making an amazing return to life. She's put on nearly ten pounds already, and Loren is showing her how to balance her blood,” replied Ellice.

  Aline asked, “What will happen to her?”

  “That will be up to her when the time comes,” said Ellice. “She has no more family. Her fate will be her own now.”

  “That sounds hopeful, in a way,” said Aline. “And scary.”

  “How's Asa doing?” asked Gordon, “His brothers are pretty protective these days.”

  “See for yourself,” said Ellice, pointing to a wall of the palace.

  In the warm sunlight, in a secluded patch of the palace grounds, Gordon and Aline heard the clanking of metal. Brenddel was fight training with Asa. Mantuan had taken on his two brothers in training.

  “Hardly seems fair, two boys against Mantuan.” Aline raced ahead, drawing both knives. “I better join the boys and even the odds.”

  Asa saw Gordon. He turned his head to wave at Gordon. Brenddel took the advantage and almost knocked Asa to the ground, but Asa blocked it at the last moment, smiling.

  As Gordon raced to them he heard Brenddel saying, “…that's why you never look away in battle. Concentrate, my king.”

  Gordon reached them, and saw Asa block each blow with his staff. “Wait, Asa, you can see?”

  “Hey, Gordon. Yes. I woke up this morning and it's almost completely back. Words on a page are still fuzzy, but that will be a great excuse not to read all the books our councilors give us.”

  “My king…” said Brenddel.