Vengewar

by Kevin J. Anderson

  Onzu was confused. “What does Elliel have to do with that?”

  “King Kollanan says that she has regained her memories,” Tytan said. “That Utho concocted the story of her slaughtering the children, but it never happened. He just wanted Elliel’s memory gone. He wanted to give her a shame so great that she would never look closely for answers.” The big man was upset by the idea.

  Jennae rose to her feet. “Enough of this! We are warriors, not old washerwomen exchanging gossip.”

  A knot formed in Onzu’s stomach as he remembered the hard and grim Brava man he had taught. Utho always had a dark edge, and his ethics were somewhat dependent on circumstances. “King Kollanan sent the letter? Is the word of a Commonwealth king not worth heeding?”

  “The call of Konag Mandan is stronger.” Jennae’s face became more unattractive as it grew pinched and determined. She stepped away, ignoring the scraps of food on the table. “We have to leave, Master Onzu.”

  “For that I am glad,” he said, using his words like a lash. His thoughts continued to spin. “If Utho fabricated that story about Elliel and branded her with the rune of forgetting, how do we know he didn’t do the same to Onder?”

  The Brava woman looked at him, and her entire body became a sneer. Even Tytan showed no sympathy now. “There were many witnesses at Mirrabay. Onder’s cowardice is undeniable.”

  The old master had feared as much. “Yet if there is this question posed by Elliel and supported by the king of Norterra, should you not consider it? The code of honor runs through our veins stronger than any blood and burns brighter than any ramer. If Utho would betray one of our own, is this a man you would follow to war? What if he’s manipulating Konag Mandan?” He raised his voice, and the tension in the room increased. “Does Brava honor mean nothing to you?”

  “The vengewar means more, and Utho brings us that, at last,” Jennae said. “A true Brava would feel the same call and not talk about wreths and dragons.”

  Her words were like a slap, and Onzu’s hands strayed toward the cuff of his ramer. Jennae flinched for her own weapon, but Tytan stopped them both. “We will save our fighting for the true enemy. Our horses should be rested now.” He strode toward the door. “Thank you for the meal. We ride off to Convera.”

  The two Bravas stalked away, striding to their horses. When they rode off, Onzu felt that part of his core was crumbling inside.

  82

  THE two great rivers in the land, the Bluewater and the Crickyeth, tumbled in from the north and west, converging to form a wedge of land on which the city of Convera had been built. Fertile farmland spread out along the river valleys, and boat and barge traffic dotted both rivers.

  Utho stood at the apex of the bluff above the confluence. He watched the two waterways flow together to form the Joined River, which led to Rivermouth and the sea. His great fear had always been that someday an Isharan fleet would push its way up to the confluence and lay siege to Convera. No Brava could allow that to happen. For generations his people had devoted their lives to serving the konag and defending the Commonwealth. Utho would do no less.

  It angered him that Mandan could not count on his own people.

  Now, of all times, the three kingdoms must be united, must be strong. The army ranks should have swelled with fighters from Suderra and Norterra, but Adan had remained silent, and Kollanan had openly defied the decree. The king’s remarkable demand for Commonwealth reinforcements against the wreths only made Utho—and Mandan—angrier.

  Yes, Commonwealth troops were being sent to Norterra, but not to assist King Kollanan.

  Lady Lira and the young konag spent much time discussing wedding preparations—the music, the minstrels, the gowns, the feast. It seemed to go on and on. Utho wished Mandan would devote as much energy to his war plans.

  The Brava stood on the high point of land listening to the wind and watching the flow of the water. Some things just took their natural course. The Bluewater and the Crickyeth inevitably flowed to the sea, and the vengewar against Ishara was likewise inevitable.

  Utho turned and stalked back into the castle.

  * * *

  Cade’s army marched at a steady pace on their way to the targeted town in Norterra. His ugly Brava Gant rode at the front, following his bonded lord, as he was required to do. His sword would serve for most fighting, and he could always use his ramer in extreme circumstances.

  A storm brewed inside the Brava, though, as the ranks of soldiers continued their advance. To show off his military force, Lord Cade was resolved, even eager, to carry out the konag’s orders, but Gant had misgivings. Though his expression remained unreadable, emotions were turbulent inside him.

  Cade glanced at him with a roguish grin. “You are so silent, Gant. Don’t you have any jokes for me?”

  “I do not tell jokes, my lord.”

  “Of course not! Bravas aren’t known for their sense of humor.”

  “True, my lord.”

  The handsome lord looked back to admire the troops streaming behind him, his strong jaw outlined by his razor-thin line of beard. “This is so much better than simple training exercises back at the camp.”

  Gant stared forward. “Attacking the Norterran town will be no mere exercise.”

  Five hundred mounted soldiers made their way overland. Gant didn’t know what sort of defenses King Kollanan could mount against this surprise attack, but Cade’s army was surely enough to devastate one insignificant town.

  “It will be a stinging rebuke, a lesson to teach Norterra, that the actions of their king have consequences. Years of peace and cooperation have made the people of the three kingdoms complacent. Now that we face a real enemy, we cannot let people disobey their konag willy-nilly.”

  “There is indeed an enemy,” Gant said, chewing on his words. “But King Kollanan asserts that it is the wreths, as does Adan in Suderra. Are we wise to ignore what they say?”

  “The two kings are cowards. When Konag Mandan calls his people to arms, we must fight. Remember what the Isharans did to Mirrabay and how they butchered poor Conndur. You were there on Fulcor yourself!” He nodded, as if he found his own words convincing. “Ishara is obviously our true enemy.”

  “And yet we are marching in the opposite direction,” Gant pointed out.

  Cade gave him a sour frown. “You begin to annoy me. Is that part of your duties as my bonded Brava?”

  Gant shrugged as they rode along. “Bravas fight, and we obey our bonded lords, but if King Kollanan speaks the truth about the wreths, then he did in fact make a legitimate request for mutual defense, according to the Commonwealth charter. I am not a politician, but I believe Konag Mandan should have taken the request seriously. He could have attempted to negotiate, rather than launch an immediate attack.” He lowered his voice. “I do not see how this will turn out well.”

  Cade laughed. “You imagine we might fail? Look at our army! Kollanan will not expect us, and Yanton can’t possibly stand against an invasion. The Norterrans will simply capitulate, and then we can all fight against Ishara.” When the Brava gave no acknowledgment, Cade made a rude noise. “Why do you argue with me? I thought all Bravas hated Isharans.”

  “We hate the Isharans, but we also love truth, and we love honor. In this instance, I do not see how those three add up.”

  “You are a challenging man, Gant.” Cade urged his horse to a faster pace, which made the troops behind him work to catch up. “Even Elliel was a better conversationalist, and she was certainly prettier! Did your mother drop you on your face when you were a baby?”

  “If she did, she never told me of it,” Gant said, taking no offense. “I spent my childhood in a Brava training village. My mother visited only occasionally.”

  “I can see why.” A lascivious gleam came into Cade’s eyes. “But Elliel … quite a stunning woman, those green eyes! And her luscious hair exactly the same color as the thatch between her legs.” He sighed. “I have vivid memories of that night, though frankly, I expected a Brav
a to be a better lover.”

  Gant clenched his muscles, tried to keep the words inside, but they came out anyway. “Perhaps you should not have taken her against her will.”

  The lord looked at him in surprise, then made a dismissive gesture. “Who would credit the whining complaints of a spurned lover? She had to fabricate stories after Lady Almeda stabbed her in a jealous rage.”

  “Whining complaints…” Gant ground his teeth together so he would not say more. No Brava, no matter how insulted or spurned, would falsely accuse another. Gant had not met Elliel personally, but he knew who she was, knew her heritage, her training. No Brava woman would lie about rape. Ever.

  After taking her place in Cade’s service, Gant had researched Elliel. Wherever he rode around the counties, he made inquiries about how Elliel had supposedly lost herself in a blood rage and murdered children. He was not surprised to learn that the tale was entirely false, yet she had been marked with the rune of forgetting.

  By now, Gant knew what sort of person Lord Cade was, although the Brava had been unaware when he’d accepted the bond. In previous years, Gant had been a solo paladin in Osterra, serving the people wherever he saw a need. In the wake of Elliel’s supposed disgrace, Lady Almeda had demanded a male Brava—preferably an ugly one—and he had been pressed into service.

  Gant had learned so much more since then. Some of the tasks Cade requested of him danced on the very edge of honor. The Brava was bound to obey, but there might come a point when he would have to refuse.

  As the large army marched into Norterra, he wrestled with his loyalties. Every Brava knew of the generations-long blood feud with the Isharans, and he had fought alongside Klea and Utho during that horrific night on Fulcor Island, but he did not dream of large politics.

  After Gant’s long silence, the lord spoke again, sounding conciliatory. “I’m glad you are with me. I didn’t want to do this without my bonded Brava, but I am capable of killing if need be.” He gave his predatory smile again. “As my dear wife recently learned.”

  Gant stiffened. He had never asked the lord directly. He had, in fact, once feared that Cade would command him to murder Lady Almeda. When she had been found dead, however, Gant knew that she had not taken her own life. He was aware that Cade had ridden out that night in secret and returned exhausted just before dawn.

  The army marched onward, heading toward the spot on the map that Konag Mandan’s dagger had pierced.

  * * *

  When Utho entered the konag’s war council room, he encountered a flurry of tailors and seamstresses and brightly dyed fabrics. Standing on display, maidservants had been dressed in ornate gowns that made them look beautiful, but also intensely awkward. Bakers set out a display of cakes, pies, and small pastries on a long table against the stone wall.

  Utho brought a summary of the private soldiers, horses, weapons, and supplies that Cade had taken on his march across the north. He felt warm and sweaty, having just ridden in from Rivermouth, where he had overseen the arming and supplying of four more ships for the Commonwealth navy. He also brought a rolled map of the Isharan continent, sparsely detailed, since it was all they knew of the strange land. After studying the coast, he had marked preferred landing points for the invasion, in addition to the primary strike in Serepol Harbor.

  But Konag Mandan was far more engaged in his wedding plans than he was with the vengewar.

  Utho stopped, his hand clenching as he absorbed what he saw. The young konag walked among the servant girls, inspecting the different styles of gowns, which were unlike anything they would ever again wear. Tailors and seamstresses proudly showed off the knotted braids, draped lace, ornamental ribbons, and intricate beadwork. Lira stood beside him, ethereal and smiling as if she floated on a rainbow. She marveled at the colors of the fabrics. Mandan urged her to taste an almond pastry topped with jellied fruit.

  A sick anger took hold of Utho. His voice cut through the chatter like a scimitar. “Have you forgotten your murdered father so soon, my konag?”

  With a gasp, Lira set down the small bite of powdered cake she had been tasting after the almond pastry. She looked skittish and pale.

  Mandan spun about, startled and looking guilty, but he recovered himself. “I am planning my wedding, Utho.” He smiled at the young woman. “The most important day in my life.”

  “The most important day in your reign will be when the Isharans fall.” The Brava paused to think of his own dear wife and daughters, and he forcibly stopped himself from pointing out that wives and marriages could vanish in an instant. Because of the Isharan animals. He stalked farther into the room. “With war preparations commencing, Sire, and with Lady Lira’s father on an important military mission to Norterra, we should postpone the wedding until a better time.”

  Mandan blinked as if he had trouble understanding the words his Brava had spoken. Utho knew the young man would not be happy with the delay, but he would listen. He had never pushed back against his mentor’s advice before.

  “No,” Mandan said. “This is my wedding. The entire Commonwealth will celebrate. It will unify us in a time of troubles, and it must happen as soon as possible.”

  The response astonished Utho, but everyone in the room was listening, and he could not chastise the konag. He chose his words carefully. “It is not an opportune time for such an event, Sire. Better to wait another month, preferably two.”

  Mandan still refused. “I have waited for this date, as has my beloved Lira.” He looked at the willowy young woman, and she fawned over him.

  “But the bride’s father is not here,” Utho said. “Lord Cade should attend his daughter’s wedding, especially a grand royal wedding such as this.”

  Mandan actually looked angry at Utho. “Then he had better finish his mission and return. There is time.”

  With great effort, Utho emptied himself of rage, adjusted his thoughts. He could not lose control here. Before he spoke again, Mandan actually cut him off. “The date of the wedding will stand, Utho. All has been perfectly planned, so many intertwined parts. Our guests will arrive, and the wedding will be a bright spot in these dark times. I have spoken.”

  Utho saw the hardness in the young man and realized that Mandan clung to this one thing because it was an event he could control, an event he could understand.

  “As you wish, my konag,” he said, but in his mind he would never forget that Mandan had defied him. “Your wedding will be a day to remember.”

  83

  AS the empra’s chosen successor, Cemi had never imagined she would live like a rat in tunnels beneath the palace. The hawk guards remained alert, ready to defend the helpless woman on her pallet. Iluris’s condition had not changed, and the men were edgy, impatient, and uncomfortable.

  From Analera’s outside reports, Cemi knew the rumors were spreading, that the people were even more desperate for their empra, now that Key Priestlord Klovus had let a powerful, unruly force of barbarians into the city. The prayers for Iluris increased, and the strange new godling felt the strength and the faith coming from outside.

  Cemi said, “It’s comforting to know the people still love the true empra.”

  “Klovus can summon the Serepol godling to demonstrate his power,” Vos said, “and we can show only a sleeping woman who should have died weeks ago.” He looked drained from the constant tension as he sat at Iluris’s side, stroking the woman’s cool, dry arm. He spoke in a low voice so his fellow guards would not hear. “We must seriously face the possibility that our mother may never awaken.”

  By now Iluris’s actual injury had healed, and she no longer wore bandages around her hair. Cemi had brushed the empra’s ash-blond tresses, laying the strands out over her shoulders. Though they fed her broth and tried to keep her strong, it was obvious the woman was wasting away.

  “She’s not dead,” Cemi said. “That is our spark of hope. When she wakes, she will know what to do. The people are ready to rise up in support as soon as she comes back.” It wasn’t a good eno
ugh answer, and she had realized that weeks before.

  “Or it is time for you to rally the people.” Vos looked down at the motionless form, her closed eyes. “Your godling is strong.” The entity remained with them, a shimmering presence in the air, but for now it had withdrawn around the vault opening.

  In the stone tunnel outside the isolated chamber, old Analera appeared and ducked inside carrying a cloth-covered basket of food. “Only apples today and some old bread.” She sounded exasperated. “The Hethrren have ransacked the kitchens, taken the ready supplies, and made it impossible for the cook staff to create large meals. Such a mess.” Her face pinched in disgust. “I already hated Key Priestlord Klovus, but what he’s brought upon us in the name of his war…” She growled deep in her throat. “Hear us, save us!”

  “We know the risk you are taking out there.” Cemi put heartfelt emotion into her words, as Iluris had taught her to do. “But we also know this cannot go on much longer. If the people are restless, impatient with the key priestlord and the Hethrren, maybe we can use that to our advantage.” She looked at Captani Vos. “Our supporters continue to grow. We must plan the best time to emerge. When is the movement strong enough for us to reveal to the people that Iluris still lives? Maybe they will accept me as their temporary leader until such time as the empra awakens.”

  The other six hawk guards gave a full-throated agreement, but Vos was concerned. “Klovus would eliminate you, maybe even summon the godling to do it.”

  Analera also expressed her doubts. “Or the Hethrren would kill all of you. Magda would bash in your skull with that club of hers. How could you stop it?”

  Vos rose to his feet, instinctively angry. “I would stop it! I’d do anything to protect Cemi.”

  “Magda would just kill you first.” The old woman sniffed. “But do not give up hope. I am certain that parts of the Isharan army would rally around you, if you presented yourself and your case properly.”