by Alon Shalev
So he would talk to Phineus. The army couldn’t afford to lose too many of its battle-hardened soldiers.
Chapter Eighteen
First Boar Umnesilk led Seanchai and Sellia away from the group and across the flat plateau. His brisk pace meant their horses had to trot to keep up. He didn’t seem to notice, or, if he did, then he didn’t care. They climbed between two mountains until the path flattened onto another plateau.
When they reached more mountains, Umnesilk stopped. They were about to enter a gorge, barely wide enough for the four horses. He signaled for them to dismount.
“Pictorian villages destroyed by elves, dwarves, and humans. Pictorians not give birth much. Often mates have one or two pictorye. We fight much, pictorians die. We guard village. You come first to my hearth. Then I ask to bring you to clan hearth, to council. Understand?”
“Yes,” Seanchai replied. “Thank you.”
“You swear in elf tongue never tell where our homes. You have word for this, yes?”
“We do,” Seanchai replied. “I swear to never reveal your villages to my people or the races of Odessiya without your permission. Ashbar.”
Umnesilk nodded and then looked at Sellia. She nodded back.
“I swear also to protect the locations of your villages. Ashbar.”
Umnesilk grunted. “You fine warrior,” he said to Sellia. “Remember fight at little people’s hearth. You good as mate for Wycaan?”
“We’re working on it,” Sellia replied and glanced at the blushing Seanchai.
Umnesilk stared at her and then shook his huge head. Whether he understood or not was unclear, but he signaled for them to follow through the narrow passage. As they progressed, the path wound left and then right. Seanchai could hear muffled voices and smelled food cooking on a fire.
“Not easy way,” Umnesilk called back. “Not trust all the way.”
“That’s okay,” Sellia replied. “You protect your family. We understand this.”
Finally, they were standing on an inverted plateau, surrounded by rock that rose more than forty feet above them. It protected from the winds, Seanchai thought, but could not be very defensible if attacked from above.
As he scanned all the way around, he realized that Umnesilk was watching him.
“What you think?”
“Isn’t this a difficult area to defend?” Seanchai asked.
The massive pictorian nodded. “I First Boar. Few challenge me, but challenge must come before council. We not grow, I say before. Pictorians not attack mates or pictorye. Fear armies from Odessiya, fear wolves and bears. They not come down here. Scent of pictorian rise straight from here. Fire from pits not seen.”
Seanchai nodded. “I understand. You chose a place where you won’t be noticed rather than a place to defend.”
The First Boar stared for a moment. “Pictorian not hide,” he snarled. “Fighting is our way, but pictorians must grow to be more. See Emperor and dwarves have many in army. Talk more with food. Come.”
Seanchai noticed that there were several stone houses, all with doorways that were at least eight feet tall, and one bigger structure, possibly a meeting place. But Umnesilk led them to a hole in the rock wall, a small cave. They all had to bend and climb through into a spacious cave.
“Not good,” Umnesilk said, “but not have house, and not winter.”
“It’s fine,” Sellia said to him. “Better than where we have been these past months. There’s air and a place for a fire. This is good.”
“Umnesilk,” Seanchai said. “I didn’t see anyone else.”
“All in houses. Pictorian warriors guarding or out hunting with party that stop you. I call them. You come soon when I tell.”
Seanchai nodded. He went over to a pallet with a thick skin on it and lay down. Then he jerked his head up.
“What is it?” Sellia asked.
“This is a bearskin. It feels. . . wrong.”
Sellia looked at him. “Perhaps you’re just tired.”
Neither of them believed that.
Seanchai dozed while Sellia unsaddled their bags from the horses. Umnesilk returned.
“My family meet and feed you. But they not know to speak not-pictorian. Most never seen, only our race. Will look, smell, and maybe ask questions. Our way.”
They stepped outside, and Sellia immediately looked around, startled. “The horses.”
“We take,” Umnesilk answered. “Give water and take to grass, but we not know to brush like see soldiers do in army.”
“We’ll groom the horses,” she replied. “Thank you for taking care of them.”
They walked to a big fire adjacent to the biggest house. Seanchai smiled as he met the females. They had no horns and were smaller in stature than the males, but Umnesilk had once told him that they could hold their own with males in combat. He also noticed the pictorye. There were several of them.
“You have sired several children?” he asked.
Umnesilk translated, and they all laughed. A female rose and stood by her First Boar. She spoke to Seanchai, and Umnesilk translated. “My mate, Onywei, say that I not as old as looking. Need be very old for seven pictorye. But four are mine. I am First Boar. Others from brothers. I had two and their families live at my hearth.”
He introduced the wives, and Seanchai dared not ask about their mates. He himself had killed a number of pictorians over the past year–more than any other man or elf. He feared the possible answers.
They seated themselves and were served by the pictorye. It was a heavy, meaty stew. Seanchai typically ate only fish and vegetables, but decided it would be disrespectful not to. And he also happened to be really hungry.
Onywei spoke to Sellia though her mate. “Do you have young elf of your own?”
“No,” she replied. “We’re both very young and have only been mates for a short while.”
“You want children-elves?”
Seanchai looked at Sellia. They had never discussed such things. It was all very new and seemed so not part of the world in which they existed.
“Yes,” she said at last. “But only if they can live as free elves.”
Once translated, this was greeted by many nods around the circle. Onywei spoke again through Umnesilk.
“Onywei say: we look different, but inside,” he tapped his heart with a massive fist, “we are very same.”
Chapter Nineteen
He stood upon a great hill, a green cloak wrapped around him and his white hair flowing in the gentle breeze. He held his Win Dao swords without fear of battle. To his left was a great, white, frozen flatland, and to his right, a mighty green forest. Behind him rose huge mountains, their peaks hidden in cloud. In front of him was a plain that ended at a massive expanse of water as far as his eyes could see.
He stood alone, waiting, and expectant. He knew they would come. He had summoned them, though he held no dominion over their race. His call was for help, energy, and power. They would come.
As the sun reached its zenith, he began to make out movement on the horizon. He smiled to himself, secretly relieved. From the four winds, they were coming, from all the lands of Odessiya.
Four great ice bears were the first to arrive, all white but one, subtly pink–a sign of pregnancy–with clear, blue eyes and black snouts in sharp contrast. They sniffed him all in turn–a greeting, an examination. Time passed, and six black dots became sleek, black bears suggestive of great speed and stamina. They too approached and sniffed.
And finally, seven brown bears emerged on all fours from the forest. They were familiar One, with hanging teats, glanced furtively back into the trees, where she had surely left her cubs. When they sniffed him, they knew him. The biggest came last and slowly rose on its hind legs. It put its mighty paw slowly on the Wycaan’s chest wound, and a wave of warmth passed through the elf. The bear stared into his eyes with recognition.
When it had returned to its pack, all eyes went to the Wycaan. No–they were looking beyond him and he felt a gr
eat shadow behind him and turned slowly. Standing there was a great grizzly, twice as big as most of those gathered. The Wycaan glanced toward the looming mountains for others, but this creature had come alone.
It stood on its hindquarters, and the tall Wycaan barely reached its chest. It had wild chestnut fur and huge paws. It was a majestic beast, and the Wycaan could not hide his admiration.
The bear lowered itself onto its four paws and moved past him, brushing the Wycaan gently, filling his senses with musty and powerful bear scent. Then the mountain bear moved to the ice bears. They all stood and the biggest stepped forward. Scents and grunts were exchanged and then the mountain bear did the same to the others. When completed, it moved again in front of the Wycaan. It rose again on its hind legs and spoke in deep, throaty grunts. The Wycaan understood.
‘When the gods created the world, they built the land and seas. They created the mountains and forests, the desert and the great ice plains.
When they inhabited the world, they could not decide to whom dominion should be given.
“The great firebreathers were fierce and strong, but the gods feared their unbridled rage. The wolves were favored among many for their focus and intelligence, working in a pack. But they were independent of spirit and only concerned themselves with their own future. The great eagle was wisest and fastest. Its deadly accuracy with its talons earned it the respect of all the beasts of the land. But it sought solitude on the skies and rarely came among the animals. It lived on the high peaks and kept its council to itself.
“Then there were the bears. We were strong, fierce in battle, deliberate in council, and loyal to our packs and those in our midst. We were not as powerful as the firebreathers, as intelligent as the wolves, or as fast as the eagles, but our strengths brought balance to the lands.
“In time, alliances were formed between firebreather, wolf, eagle, and bear, and it was the bear that nurtured this fusion. And so the gods saw fit to share power among the four species.
“Time passed, and the two-legged walked the earth. Four races, there were: man, elf, dwarf, and pictorian. The pictorians gravitated toward the souls of the firebreather, man ran in packs like the wolf, and dwarves sought excellence at the ends of the earth with the eagle. The elves brought balance for many centuries by nurturing their culture and people, but seeking always to hold together the four races. For this reason, bears and elves have always held common ground and common cause.
“But as the firebreather, wolf and eagle, so different bears have different traits. Some bears stay together, a close-knit family, their cubs always near,” He nodded towards the forest where the brown bear cubs now dozed, too exhausted to take note of what was happening. “The mountain bears live solitary lives, coming together only to mate and fight. Some wolves thought of the greater good, and some eagles were companionable creatures.
“So it is with the two-legged. Some are good, others bad. Some fight, others think. The similarity of creature, four or two-legged should never be assumed.”
The huge mountain bear turned to face the Wycaan. “It is the Wycaans who understand best the connection with the animals and have sought our help to enhance their powers and duty.
“And so we stand with you, to offer our help as our ancestors did for thousands of years. An Elven Wycaan walks among us with a difficult path before him. We come to offer our paws to run with you. Will you accept?”
The Wycaan unbuckled the clasp of his cloak, and it fell to the ground. He removed his shirt to reveal the scarred claw marks on his chest–the giant bear paw now a badge of honor. “I am proud to run with the bears.”
And run, they did. Five of them–the Wycaan and one of each pack–ran across the plains, through the forests and across the great ice sheets. They ran to the peaks of the highest mountains. They ran deep into the night. The Wycaan felt no fatigue, but only fusion with the brown bear in the forest, the back bear on the plain, and the white upon the glaciers. They were no longer running next to him, but inside of him.
When he stood upon the mountain peak staring out upon the land of Odessiya, he was alone with the great grizzly. “Thank you,” he said to the mountain bear. “Thank you all.”
“We are one now,” the grizzly replied. “Even when you stand alone, never will you stand alone again.”
And the great grizzly stepped into the Wycaan.
Seanchai woke with the smell of the great bearskin covers filling his lungs. He could feel their furs against his naked chest. Sellia was awake and watching him. He pulled her to him and held her tightly.
“That must have been some dream,” she remarked, offering no explanation.
He smiled. “It was momentous. And I must discover its meaning. It might just hold the key to everything.”
Chapter Twenty
During the uneventful day’s ride, Ahad had requested a private conversation with General Shiftan. The general had nodded, but there was little to do about it at the time. They rode without breaks, needing to reach the entrance to the mountain range before the caravan entered.
That night, the bearded sergeant requested Ahad join the general on the first watch. They patrolled the perimeter of the camp in twos, three pairs of soldiers at different distances. Ahad matched General Shiftan’s casual pace.
“I haven’t heard of many generals who participate in the guard duty,” the young assassin said.
The General smiled. “Most don’t, but we each have our own style. Spending a couple of hours with a man gives me a chance to learn who he is, and what motivates and scares him. I don’t want my men’s loyalty to derive from fear. I’m alive today because a dozen men gladly put their bodies between mine and a blade or arrow.”
“Was my father like that?” When General Shiftan didn’t answer, Ahad added: “Please don’t feel obliged to suggest he was perfect. I want to know my real father. There’ll be plenty of books, plays, and songs written about the myth. Tell me about the man.”
“Very well,” Shiftan replied. “Your father was very different from me, though we loved each other as brothers. He would mock the manner in which I treat my soldiers–not out of spite, but I think a lack of understanding.
“Your father was brilliant, but brutal. There are certain campaigns that I’m glad were assigned to him rather than me, if you understand my meaning. But it took a toll on him, which is why he requested Galbrieth.”
“I didn’t know he requested it,” Ahad said. “I resented that he was assigned a place so far from the capital.”
“He conquered Galbrieth ruthlessly, but then built a loyalty among the men of rank, many of whom rose to power because your father killed their lieges. At that point, he could rule without too much violence–or so we thought.”
“How about when it came to competition for women?”
General Shiftan was quiet for a moment. “You ask because of the brothers in your entourage?”
“You don’t miss much, do you?” Ahad laughed.
General Shiftan smiled back. “As I’ve said before: I’m a congenial man, Ahad, but never underestimate my drive to succeed and win. What I miss could make all the difference between victory and defeat, between life and death. I take care of my soldiers, but I don’t suffer their failure or lack of discipline.
“Yes, your father pursued your mother with the same single-minded mentality. He probably frightened other suitors, but she’s a strong woman. You haven’t seen her since she traveled from the city after the funeral, have you?”
Ahad didn’t answer.
“Good. She does it for your safety. She loves you very much, Ahad. It’s hard for you, but excruciating for her, to be sure. And whatever you heard from those two sons of Lord Morogen is probably embellished, but not so far from truth as to be unbelievable. Does that make sense?”
When Ahad did not answer, General Shiftan stopped and tuned to him.
“There is something very important I want you to understand. You might be, in time, as good as your father, but you will
never be him exactly. You’re more like your mother and should draw on her strengths. If you try too hard to walk in his boots, it’ll be your downfall. Do you understand?”
Again, Ahad didn’t answer.
“Your father never hesitated to destroy an entire village, Ahad. He was feared throughout the land as much as he was admired. He did what needed to be done, when it needed to be done, and achieved it by any means necessary.”
“The fortress at Skiliad is impressive, as I’m sure you noticed when you arrived. What if I told you that more than four thousand men died building the fortress? Your father would reply that if that was necessary, so be it. But you’re different and must think for yourself. When you face Shayth, the elf, or any other enemy, you must know who you are facing. But you must also know who you are. Do you know, Ahad?”
Ahad looked down at the ground and kicked a stone with his boot cap. Shiftan resumed walking.
“This, son, is why I fear for you if you do face Shayth.”
The attack on the supplies train came the next day. General Shiftan’s troops heard the attack while still a mile away from the rendezvous. The supplies train had halted as planned at the Mouth of Ulster, where the plains met the mountain range.
General Shiftan turned to his troops, his voice clear and authoritative. “We ride in formation. No one breaks without my order. On my mark, be ready to form a cavalry line and charge.”
They set off at a gallop, and Ahad found the thundering rumble of hooves exhilarating. He looked over at the Crown Prince, who grinned back. Ahad nodded. When he drew his sword, he was surprised to hear a battle cry escape his mouth.
But the joy was short-lived. A torrent of arrows fell upon them from the mountainside to his left, and as they veered aside, a second wave came from their right. Several men fell from their horses, a few rising to their feet, while others lay still.