by JD Byrne
“How does this auspicious morning find you, jeyn?” he asked.
“Nervous. Worried. Apprehensive,” she said, letting her words trail off.
“Have faith, jeyn,” he said with a reassuring smile. “The Maker of Worlds has brought us all this far. Surely she would not let this great commission fail now?” He paused, but when Antrey did not answer, he asked, “Perhaps I could be of assistance in some way?”
Antrey shook her head. “Thank you, Goshen, but I don’t think so. I appreciate all you have done, for me and for our people. But the decision that is made today inside this hall must have its basis on reason and logic, not faith or superstition.” The moment she said it, Antrey knew it was too harsh.
Goshen gasped a bit, almost under his breath, at the barb.
“I meant no offense. I know you’re sincere in your beliefs, Goshen, and, I must admit, you can be very convincing.” That produced a slight smile from him, at least. “But my view of the world and what I know about it was shaped by what I learned in Tolenor. For better or worse, the Altrerians no longer trouble themselves with the gods. They face problems head-on, with just their logic and intellect. Obviously it doesn’t always work out for the best.” Goshen nodded his agreement. “But it is the only way for a divided people to try and come together. We have separate goals, you and I, that are related in many ways. This is a time for me to go on my own way, to win the theks over on my own merit.”
They stood in silence for a moment before Goshen spoke. “I understand, jeyn. I do not agree, but agreement is not required. I believe that our destinies are more closely linked than perhaps you are willing or able to acknowledge. But we will have more time in the future to discuss it. In the meantime, I will ask the Maker to give you strength and wisdom in what lies ahead.”
She smiled slightly, touched by the sincere if empty gesture. “Thank you, Goshen.”
Before she could say any more, Hirrek stepped out of the meeting hall and called to her. “They are all assembled, jeyn. They await you.”
Antrey stepped towards the meeting hall.
~~~~~
Standing in the center of the hall, as the eyes of everyone else focused on her, Antrey thought back to the chamber of the Grand Council in Tolenor. She had never been on the floor while the Grand Council was in session, only during a recess or after a session had ended. As a clerk, she would never have any place on the floor during debate. She had always been awed by the room, by the sensation of the rising rows of seating completely surrounding her. Even when they were half empty, or filled only with low-level advisors making small talk, the chamber had an awesome majesty to it.
This meeting hall, which stood alone in the middle of the Hogarth Pass, was less imposing, at least physically. Its rough-hewn timbers, fresh from the nearby mountains, stood in stark contrast to the ornate, smooth, polished hardwood of the Grand Council chamber. Nonetheless, Antrey could feel the weight of history bearing down upon her. Here, in the hall that she had built, the glare of every pair of eyes fell on her.
“Welcome, brothers and sisters,” she said, quieting the low murmur of other voices in the room. “I thank you for the long journeys that brought you to this place.” She was now fluent in a sort of amalgamated Neldathi language, one that lost some of the nuances of each clannish dialect, but one that was almost universally understood.
She turned and began a roll call of those in attendance. “Welcome Clan Elein and the brave Thek Birkthir,” she said, starting with the Elein both to acknowledge their support of her thus far and their long history.
“Welcome to Clan Akan and the gallant Thek Treman.” She nodded at the wizened man, who did so in return.
“Welcome to Clan Dost and the wise Thek Ushan.” The old woman returned the courtesy with a smile.
“Welcome to Clan Chellein and the stalwart Thek Olban.” Antrey lingered on Olban just a moment, as she was one of the few female leaders in attendance.
“Welcome to Clan Kohar and the perceptive Thek Niwar,” she said to her clan of birth and its leader, the youngest one here by some years.
“Welcome to Clan Mughein and the prudent Thek Adnon.” Of all those who had initially sided with her against the Degans, Adnon had been the most reluctant.
“Welcome to Clan Volakeyn and the rugged Thek Ilan.” She nodded to him as well as Dagan, who sat behind him.
“Welcome to Clan Uzkaleyn and the stout Thek Korlen.” Although she had a reputation as a nimble thinker, Korlen’s most obvious asset was her size. Antrey thought she could easily best Hirrek, if need be.
“Welcome to Clan Haglein and the spirited Thek Myslen.” His clan’s loyalty to the cause was one of the first reports Antrey received.
“Welcome to Clan Sheylan and the astute Thek Ceylan.” She nodded at the man who had been the main strategic force behind the Dagan army. Antrey knew he still bore a bruise from being bested by a woman.
“And, finally, welcome to Clan Paleyn and the elegant Thek Augan.” Augan, whose clan was protected by Kaneyn, the god of waters, looked as if she had been poured from a glass herself.
With those pleasantries out of the way, it was time to get to business.
“It was more than a century ago, in this place, when the Rising died,” Antrey began. “When an army made up of the combined forces of the United Guilds of Altreria, the Confederated States of the Arbor, and the Kingdom of Telebria hunted down Sirilo and the remains of his army, which they crushed. They broke it and destroyed it without mercy. The Rising died that day, but the Triumvirate was born. From those ashes, a new unity can arise amongst us as well.” She went on to tell the story of Alban, how she came to work for him, and how she discovered what they had been doing to the Neldathi. When she finished, she paused to allow someone to jump in with a question.
Adnon stood up. “Jeyn Antrey, if I may,” he said, leaving the end of the question hanging.
Antrey nodded.
“I believe that we have all heard the tale of how you uncovered the Triumvirate’s plot to keep our people at each other’s throats,” he said. “It is fine to hear those details directly from you, of course, for the first time. However, we must have been brought here to answer the question of what comes next. Armed with this information, this spark, what is to be done? We are all now aware of you and you have proven your ability to us all. What is it that you now ask from us?” He sat back down.
“There are two options, Thek Adnon,” Antrey said. “One is simply to take what we know, put it to one side, and move forward as a unified people. Or, at the least, as people who are not constantly warring upon each other. We could focus on developing the relations among the clans, as well as between the clans and the Islanders.”
“The Islanders,” said a voice from behind her. “Like the one with which she spends so much time.”
Antrey turned and found Myslen just finishing the sentence. He looked chagrined to have been caught. “I know there is little need for an ocean trade in the Kelly Range,” she said, shooting him a sharp look, “but that is not the case for many others. The Islanders have been trading for years with the Paleyn and the Elein, among others. It was the Islanders from whom some of you acquired the Altrerian muskets we will need in the coming struggle.” She let that point sink in before moving on. “As for Naath, he was instrumental in allowing me to reach out to all of you. Beyond that, our relationship is none of your concern.”
Antrey took a deep breath and refocused herself. “As I said, that is option one. It is the easier of the two, to be sure, but perhaps not feasible in the long term. Option two, Thek Adnon, is the one I support. It is quite simple. As a unified people, with unified will and force, we strike back against the Triumvirate. The second option is to launch the Second Great Neldathi Uprising.”
Voices murmured low but intensely around her. Not in surprise, as everyone knew war might be in the offing, but in concern now that the subject had been broached.
Ushan stood, to Antrey’s surprise. “Jeyn Antrey
, no one knows the treachery of the Triumvirate more than those, like the Dost, who share the Water Road with their Sentinels. I understand the desire for revenge, but I am not certain what will be served by further violence.”
Before Antrey could answer Ushan, Korlen did. “This is not about revenge,” she said, “although there would be some satisfaction in visiting upon the Triumvirate the kind of destruction they have made a part of our lives. This is about asserting our identity as a unified people and claiming what is ours by right.”
“Which is what?” someone asked from behind her.
“The Water Road,” said Augan. “Kaneyn, or the Maker of Worlds if you like, made this world with the great river running through it. It has never been ours, in truth. But at least before the Rising it was shared with the Altrerians. Now their troops are deployed in their forts all along the Water Road. Without access to the river, we will always be a scattered and divided people.”
“Thek Augan is right,” Antrey said, trying to regain control of the discussion. “The Water Road belongs to all the people of this world.” She could see dissent in some faces at that statement. “No, no, that is correct, if you think about it. The Water Road is not only fed by the snowmelt and mountain streams of the Neldathi lands, but also from the River Adon and River Innis that flow in the north. Each side has a claim to use the river, although neither has a claim to own it. The Triumvirate think they have owned it for more than a century, however, and will not give it up without a fight.”
“Is that the only reason for further war?” Ushan asked. “For further bloodshed and destruction?”
“No,” Antrey said, turning to face her. “That is not the only reason, nor could it be. The Triumvirate has a great deal invested in its work among the Neldathi. It will not simply recognize a united Neldathi people and move on. It will seek to destroy us. The armies of the Triumvirate will again cross the Water Road in great numbers. They will kill our warriors. And our children. They will destroy our future as a people.”
“How do you know this?” The question came from Antrey’s right.
She turned and zeroed in on the voice. “Know it, Thek Ceylan? I do not know it. None of us can know it until it is too late. It is a prediction on my part, an educated guess informed by all I have learned of the Triumvirate. As much as I would like to say more, I have to ask you to trust me. I believe I have earned that.”
Adnon took over the examination. “Very well. We trust you. We believe you. But why must we all be involved? Is it not enough for the clans to lay down their arms against one another? Let those who want to fulfill their bloodlust against the Triumvirate do the dying, while the others return home.”
“It is quite simple, Thek Adnon,” Antrey said. “Unless the Neldathi as a people are unified and mobilized, the Triumvirate will not be defeated. They are too well equipped and too well schooled in the arts of war. That is how the first Rising was put down. Altrerian soldiers cannot stand against a Neldathi warrior in single combat.” She paused as the inevitable laughter of superiority rang out at the thought.
“So they avoid single combat,” she continued. “They strike ferociously and move quickly. Unless all the clans contribute warriors to the battle, unless they all contribute strength and courage and cunning, the battle will be lost. And once the Triumvirate wins the battle, it will not distinguish between the clans that fought and the ones that did not. We will all be at risk for retaliation and another century of brutality.”
“But would we run that kind of risk if we did not strike against them first?” asked Olban.
Antrey turned to face her. “I cannot expect you to understand, Thek Olban. You have no experience with the Triumvirate. But while I was in Tolenor I read all there was to read about them, including what they think of our people. Not just the members of the Grand Council, but the citizens in the street. They do not see us as their equals. To them, we are little better than animals. I read about Neldathi warriors, captured along the Water Road, who were sold to circuses in the north. Paraded through the cities as curiosities, as spectacles. They will not leave us alone. Nor will they deal with us as equals, unless we force them to do so.”
The pause that followed convinced Antrey that she had won the point, so she shifted to the final part of her presentation. “All that said, we still need to reach a decision about what to do. Two decisions, actually. The first is whether to strike back against the Triumvirate when ready, hopefully before the Sentinels gather enough intelligence to know what is happening here.”
“When?” asked someone Antrey did not recognize.
“By the first of the new year, I think,” she answered. “That will give us some needed time to organize, but it will come quickly. We must make a decision and it must be unanimous.”
Ilan breezed past the point. “What is the other decision we must make?”
“One step at a time,” Antrey said. “The current question is, should we strike against the Triumvirate by the new year?” The question asked, Antrey walked around the circle until she was face to face with Birkthir. She knew that having him vote first would carry some weight with the others, given the ancient heritage of his clan. He did as she wished.
Ten minutes later, the votes had all been cast. It was unanimous. They would go to war.
“Now, what is the other decision we must make?” Ushan asked.
“Our people are travelers,” Antrey said. “I would not think of trying to change our fundamental nature. However, it will be necessary to have at least one place that belongs to all the clans. A permanent settlement where we can gather and work out our differences. It can also be used as a base of operations in the coming struggle with the Triumvirate. This meeting hall is, hopefully, just the beginning of such a city. From all of you, I need a commitment to provide people to live here and help me build this city.”
“Why here?” asked Treman, whose clan had at least a nominal claim on the land.
“Because this is a place of rebirth for our people,” Antrey answered. “That it has also been contested territory between several clans will serve as an example of how we can come together in common cause. What say you?”
Again she began with Birkthir, and within ten minutes had another unanimous vote of support.
“Good,” she said, the nerves that had accompanied her into the hall displaced by a new group of long-term concerns. “Now we know what we will do and from where we will do it. The details will come later. Thank you, all. Go in peace.” As the others began to stand, she added, to her own surprise, “May the Maker of Worlds favor you.” Meeting over, Antrey quickly walked out of the hall. There was no need to remain behind and entertain any second thoughts.
“Good news?” asked Naath, who was waiting for her outside.
She shrugged. “Is war ever good news? I suppose not. But it is necessary, sometimes.”
An old man shuffled over towards them, a long, intricate staff of a Speaker of Time in hand aiding his progress. “Jeyn Antrey, I am Speaker Yorl of—”
She cut him off. “Of the Sheylan, yes. I saw you with Thek Ceylan inside the meeting hall. What may I do for you?”
The old man took one hand in his, gripping it ferociously. “We must begin to tell the story of this day, jeyn. Our world has changed in ways none of us ever imagined. It must be told and remembered all over the mountains.”
She smiled. “I quite agree.”
“But you did not finish the story. What is the name of this new place?” He gestured to the meeting hall and the area around it with his staff.
“The name?” Antrey asked. She had not given the matter any thought, but the answer came to her once she considered it. “It will be called Albandala. The great walled city of Alban. Without him, none of this ever would have happened.”
The old man smiled, nodded, released his grip on her, and walked away.
“Quite a legacy he has,” Naath said as they began to move away from the meeting hall.
“We will see,”
Antrey said. “We will see.”
Epilogue
Suhs braced himself against the cold predawn air as he opened the door to his quarters. It didn’t help. He simply was not made for this kind of weather. Back home, at the crossroads they called Kessel’s Cross Lanes, it would be cold this morning, but not like this. And once the sun came up, it would be entirely pleasant. But here on the southern bank of the great river, the sun would make no noticeable difference. This was no place to greet the new year.
Once he had absorbed the frigid blast, Suhs grabbed his musket, slung a full cartridge bag over his shoulder, and walked out into the massive inner yard of the fort. Dugald was one of the last forts to be built along the Water Road, so it incorporated all the lessons learned as the numerous others were built and attacked. All of the proper buildings needed were built into the fort’s outer walls. At first that made no sense to Suhs, but he soon realized that it made the walls almost impossible to breach, at least for those blue-skinned barbarians who were foolish enough to try.
The design also provided a quick way up to the observation towers, stairs carved out of the side of the thick walls, which worked better than the spindly ladders used elsewhere. The same was true of the broadcast tower, set into the middle of the fort’s north wall, from which the Sentinels sent and received their mental messages. Suhs pulled his cap down to cover his ears and began picking his way up the stairs to the main gun level. There he said hello to the others who were either just coming on duty or were being relieved. He continued along the elevated walkway until he reached the wooden staircase that led into the southwest observation tower.
The room at the top of the observation tower was noticeably colder than the rest of the fort. It was open on all sides to allow for sight in all directions at any time. As a result, the wind that could be somewhat blocked down below tore through the small room with full force. Suhs wondered why it had to work that way, since the only direction they really needed to watch was the south. The Neldathi weren’t going to come in boats, after all.