Hafi was still laughing. Shara shrugged and walked towards the General, offering him a hand to help him up as she looked at James, “He nearly dies all the time. At least this time, it was doing something useful.” She turned and smiled broadly at the General as he grabbed onto her hand and she helped him rise to his feet.
“Moderately useful.” Hafi turned to James, “If you decide to ignore your father’s little deal, I have an idea for a way we can use this without putting you in full armor.”
Shara looked at James and arched her eyebrow, “Father’s little deal?”
James shuffled uncomfortably, “One of the things my father negotiated when we came here was to remove the requirement for me to join the army. I want to enlist, I am just trying to find the right time to do it…”
Shara looked over at Hafi and could see the impatience on his face. So, he’s used all his tricks.
“Well, I can’t speak for the old General here, but I’m sure if my mother knew that I could have a personal protective detail with a rune sword when we deploy day after tomorrow, she could smooth things over. If that’s what you really want to do.”
“Personal detail?!” Hafi objected.
“Day after tomorrow?!” James cried.
Shara’s quiet morning at home was disrupted. She paced the floor of her room, listening to the quarreling in the room below between James and his father. They were blocking her way to the kitchen to get her morning tea. She had thought about how to slip by, but that wouldn’t work. Then, enough had gotten through that she knew what the fight was about: James had enlisted and his father had just found out. The fact that he had the deal to avoid conscription for James seemed to only fuel his anger, rather than being able to accept the fact that James was willing to do his duty.
Parents.
Poor Hafi had come to the house to fetch her for a quick training session before their afternoon deployment. He must have mentioned how grateful he was to have James to Kingston. Now, he was stuck down there with them and Shara was up here, dressed but not caffeinated and not training. She heard movement from her parents’ room then the creak of the stairs next to her bedroom.
Mother going to smooth things over.
She slipped out of her door and followed her mother down, keeping enough distance to not be drawn into the argument. She peered around the corner and looked at Hafi, sitting on the armchair while James and Kingston stood in front of him, blocking him into the comfortable chair. Shara had only seen Hafi more uncomfortable around crying women, and that was usually because he had just told them that someone they loved had died. He saw her spying and rolled his eyes at her as Ayna stepped in to calm the situation.
“Kingston, I understand your concerns, completely. I am sure Hafi can think of a post for James that will keep him out of harms away as much as possible.” She glared at Hafi and Shara smiled to herself, wondering if the rehearsal of this moment was only clear to her because she had seen her mother plan and act out so many moments like this. Ayna took Kingston’s arm with a gentle motion and pulled toward the kitchen, “Let’s go figure out the details. We can finalize it when Hafi brings the kids back from practice.”
Kingston glanced around at James and Hafi, as if expecting them to continue the argument, before he took a step behind Ayna. As soon as they cleared the area in front of the chair, Hafi pushed himself to his feet. He had his armor on, and seemed to dwarf Kingston and Ayna, even though Kingston was taller and looking down at him, “Yes, of course, there are plenty of administrative positions around the camp that will keep him away from skirmishes. Shara herself will need a protective detail during any confrontations and will be far from the front lines.”
Shara smirked, Mom and I will turn you into a politician eventually, Hafi. While what he had said was technically true, Shara knew as well as he did that being kept away from skirmishes was only a good promise until the armies went against each other in a full battle. Every one in the camps would have to fight then, from commanders to cooks. The promise of protective detail on her was only as good as their positioning in battle. If Hafi needed to put James elsewhere, he would. She looked over at Kingston to see if he would take the bait.
Kingston nodded with a reluctance that implied he understood perfectly well that the post was not nearly as safe as Hafi and Ayna were trying to make him feel that it was.
Ayna smiled at him and pulled softly on his arm, “Come, lets get some breakfast and let the kids go practice with Hafi.” She guided him towards the kitchen.
If Hafi could skip in his armor, Shara was sure he would have skipped out the front door once Kingston had turned his focus away from them. James placed a hand in his pocket and casually sauntered behind Hafi, but Shara would see the lightness in his steps as well as they made their way toward the hall where she hid.
She sprang out from the corner, “Nice work, my children!” She pat Hafi’s armor in a motherly fashion and then stepped next to James, looping her arm through his, “Are you excited?”
James gave her a sheepish smile, “Not as excited as you are, but I am glad it worked out.”
“Me too,” Hafi interjected, “Otherwise, I would have had my armorers up all fucking night making something that was worthless.” As he stepped out the front door, he stooped down and picked up a shield that was leaning against the outer wall of the house. He handed it to James, “I made some educated guesses on sizing, but it’ll do since we are in a time crunch. If we all make it back alive, we can improve on it.”
“Umm—thanks.” James grabbed the shield, the weight of it becoming apparent as it transitioned from Hafi to him.
“I’ll show you the design when we get to the field.”
Shara admired the shield as Hafi showed it to James. It was rounded around the top, curving back to deflect above and past the wearer, but pointed at the bottom, allowing James to kneel and slam it into the ground and then support it with his full weight. The sword slotted in to the front of the shield horizontally, and there were three ‘catch’ slots built to hold the sword and brace from a low, mid or high position. On each of the three slots for the sword, latches popped down between the sword’s hilt and spikes that started the rune series on the blade, securing the sword in to the shield, if the wearer so desired.
The armorers built the shield like Hafi’s own armor. Composite could defend against traditional melee weapons, and it was backed with replaceable diamene sheets that could handle projectiles, as long as you didn’t take a hit in the same section of sheeting twice. The diamene was highly reactive to Source, however the composite was not, so it provided protection from compromise for the sheets. Shara wanted to test how much, but also knew there was no time to build a second shield if she broke this one.
“You always want to catch from the middle catch point if you can, but once a caster realizes how the shield and sword work together, they’ll try to put you off balance by sending their casts off center. The shield can take a source hit on its own, if a catch misses completely, but even an indirect catch should be dampened by the sword and help the shield take less damage—a barrage of complete misses will break the shield’s integrity. Don’t be afraid to swivel it and tilt to get a partial or full catch.” Hafi knelt behind it, showing James how to brace from one side and use his free leg and hand on the other side as counter balance points to move the shield. He swiveled to show James the side and fingered one of three small metal latches, “This trigger will lock the sword in place to allow for you to move without holding the sword, but keep in mind, you’re sacrificing mobility with the sword for mobility with the shield. Releasing the sword from the shield takes a few seconds, which can be a lifetime if someone jumps you in a melee.” He stood and handed the shield back to James, “Practice moving with it. Lock and unlock the sword into the catch slots until you can do it without thinking.” He took a few paces back and stood next to Shara, calling out notes and tips as James worked through the new series of movements he had hours to learn.
“We can mov
e closer to the fence, if you need something to attack!” Shara called out.
James swiveled the shield to the side and glared out at her, “Your puny fences can’t handle me!”
23
Fiher
Fiher stood in a small clump of trees, north of the western source fields outside the walls of Prin. They would either go north or straight west. His position was closer to the north path, as that had been the way the other deployments had gone, but it gave him enough of a view of the western path to see a large group on it. He waited for the girl, gripping the tree beside him and moving his fingers over the bark. The Old Man would be with her, so he had to stay on the fringes of what he could sense with Intuition.
The afternoon sun was beating hard, but the waves of heat in the summer air had faded into the sharp bite of impending winter. The ground had just woken up from the overnight freeze, but would be under a new one in just a handful of hours. He thought about the mountain passes where her kind and his kind would fight and wondered why his kind had come now. Was it overconfidence in their superior numbers? Did the Mahari finally break the schism Merende had formed against her? No matter, many Xenai would see their first real winter soon. It would be as hard on them as it had been on him the first year he had been near Prin.
He knew of patrols scattered along the mountain passes. Prin’s deployment had plenty of scouts to alert them of the best routes to take and to adapt to the Xenai movements, but their communications would be slower than what he could manage. He thought of ways to bring patrols near enough to the paths the Old Man would take the girl on in an attempt to thwart their attempt to meet up with the main camp. Perhaps he could force them back to the city, where the girl would be in his reach a little longer. Once she entered the sprawling Pact camp, there would be no way for him to get close to her.
The other Xenai would try to take her if the opportunity arose. He hoped the Terrans would not be so careless as to place her where that could happen, but as with everything Terrans did, eventually they would let their guard fall or they would make a mistake. And, just like that, the girl would be gone. The benefit of a mind that never sleeps is that they would never lose vigilance. They would get to their target. His only hope was in delaying them and his only way to delay was to keep her away from both armies.
The northern gate swung open. Fiher focused on it and felt each presence as they passed out of the gate. So small, most of them cowering in the fear of duty. They filed out, around fifty of them, walking at a slow pace and radiating vulnerability outside the walls. Then, a large presence split between concern and determination. The Old Man. After him followed the girl Fiher knew so well. He could sense the girl, filled with confidence and purpose, wrapped around a tiny core of uncertainty. She walked beside an Inari presence, anger and resolve and a strange flutter of curiosity that confused Fiher drowned any fear in that boy.
He focused on her, tuning out the others around her, and pushing his own feelings towards her.
You’re not alone.
He felt her uncertainty retreat and let his focus broaden to the group as he leaned down to scoop up the small pack at his feet and slung it over his shoulder and prepared to move. It surprised him when a wave of warmth and emotion passed over him.
Thank you, Friend.
He smiled. So the girl has finally sharpened her Intuition. This could serve him. He walked through trees, searching for the right message to send the girl that would make her reconsider her choice to come. Ten years of guarding the girl, and he knew well what her mother felt when she called the girl stubborn. There was nothing that will not make her more set in her way.
I could show her the entire Xenai army and the city of Xenai, ready to come here if they are needed, and she would only become more determined.
He kept searching for an idea to discourage her as he reached out with his Intuition carefully, aware that she could sense him now. Watching her feelings as she walked up the path, he felt her sense of duty toward the Old Man and her flickering nervousness when interacting with the bitter Inari boy. If Fiher could not change her mind directly, perhaps he could use theirs.
She’ll be heartbroken, but if the Old Man is lost, her mother wouldn’t think to let her play at war.
They come to us with the idea that killing us is how they survive. They cannot consider that we are the only way they can survive. And so, they force our hands. They must join us or die.
24
Hafi
Goddamn bushes. Fuck nature.
Hafi felt like the branches and the surrounding grass were growing too close, and soon they would trap him where he lay. He had been lying prone for nearly three hours, since he awoke from a nightmare and went to take a morning piss in private. He had barely finished relieving himself when the crack and shuffling sounds from the west reached him. His camp was to the east. He hit the deck as quickly as he could while making no sound. Now, the sun had finished rising and was burning brightly, only a few hours from its peak, and he was stuck here.
A small group of Xenai had entered the clearing not too far west of the tree that he relieved himself on. They didn’t seem to be in a hurry or really have much of a goal. Meandering into the clearing, they found a few rocks, then all sat down. They didn’t build a fire, but pulled out some kind of dried meat and ate in silence. The weapons they carried and the way they posted guards while eating that rotated in and out showed they were a military team.
After finishing the meal, they formed up a cluster around a large boulder. One of the Xenai stepped forward to the edge of the stone and placed a small metal box onto its flat top. The box projected a map into the air. Hafi recognized the lay of the mountains in the map. It was the area directly west of Prin. Where he hid now was at the north edge of their map.
They spoke in Xenarin, which to the unaccustomed ear sounded like a mix of New German and Mandarin. Hafi understood little of it, but recognized the scratchy, high-pitched tones were ones of excitement. Anger or enthusiasm? He couldn’t tell that much.
He was glad his composite armor had some weight to it. It was much easier to let the armor pin him down than it was to force his mind to believe there was no need to squirm out of discomfort. His brain could scream about all the stupid nature as much as it wanted, but all he had to do was feel the weight of the armor, and he could remain still.
His tiredness from the series of bad dreams disturbing his rest threatened to put him to sleep as he waited for the Xenai to get up and leave. He could see the scenery that filled his night: endless hordes of Xenai filling strange streets and turning rolling hillsides to shadowy smoke filled land as they moved to the east. His eyes drifted shut, and he remembered the dream of the roads filled with the damned monsters. They crawled over each other, pushing against each other as they moved on all four limbs, as if oblivious that the Xenai around them were anything more than inanimate objects in the area to move over or around. Each Xenai in the city had seemed to have a purpose or a place to get to as they weaved their way through the thick sprawl of bodies like an unorganized anthill.
Hafi heard a snap or a twig when one of the Xenai moved and he snapped his eyes back open. As the scenario repeated, it felt like each time it took longer to pull himself back into awareness.
He was about to accept that if the Xenai came up this way, it would make little difference if he was awake or not. He would just have to hope none of his men tracked him down to the watering tree, or that the Xenai didn’t come up this way.
The projection shut off, and the group of Xenai stood. Hafi watched as they packed their provisions and moved into formation. The shifting smoke-like barrier they wore as a kind of camouflage at night dissipated during the day to a dark gray mist that swirled around them in strange patterns. The unnerving part lay underneath. Xenai didn’t bother with armor, let alone clothing. They were made of their armor. Underneath their dark fog, their implants grew from where the stones sat in their flesh, expanding over their bodies like choking vine
s, changing their almost Illara forms into lumps of malformed flesh that hardened into a carapace.
Those with Amber implants would grow tree-like armor around them that looked like pocked roots wrapping their bodies. The ones with the dusky blue gems implanted for Mooncasting stone often had armor formed around them that matched the local red rocks with veins of blue running through them. Many Xenai had the typical Source stones implanted, but most common in their army was obsidian. The result of this stone was that they looked like they were made of some black, unnatural, tumor-like substance. Prin’s own source users had yet to figure out what the obsidian actually was, as the obsidian they knew was not a Source material.
He watched their strange bodies move as the light from the east hit their layer of smoke, obscuring them into silhouettes as they gathered their packs and prepared to leave, the General held his breath in a way that made him feel undignified for holding such a high military office. If they discovered him, the only hope he had was in the protection from his armor. He might be able to run back to the camp without being killed, but there was no way he could fight six Xenai and win. But running back to camp presented another problem: Shara was there and the only other properly trained fighter in their group. He knew she could take out at least a few Xenai, but even James and his rune sword were untested against the Xenai. Hafi may not be able to protect Shara forever, but if they killed her during a fight that he had led back to camp in response to other questionable decisions, her mother would kill whatever was left of him.
I’d rather let the Xenai kill me than let that bitch rip me apart piece by piece.
He smiled to himself at the thought, as if mentally denying Ayna Shae her outrage would somehow keep him alive.
Song of Sundering Page 15