An Elegy of Heroes

by K. S. Villoso

Narani’s breath whistled through her nose. “I don’t know much about how it works, but I suppose it can. Ichi told me that this would not be possible without Dai’s consent, so seeing his mother might help ground him. Remind him of this life and what’s his, not Myar’s.”

  “I don’t know what to think. This Myar doesn’t sound like a malicious creature. He is nicer to Rosha as Myar.”

  “We don’t really know that. He may just be trying to fool us while he prepares to take Dai’s place. If we lived in a land where people are allowed to study such things, perhaps we’d stand a better chance of knowing for sure. With only Ichi’s inane ramblings to go by, we can only guess. He’s at that age, you know. The turn of senility.”

  Kefier grinned. “Is that why you visit him, Sang? To ground him?”

  She threw him an angry glare. “I visit him because, to my regret, he is still my son. I believe he occasionally forgets, himself. But I loved his father, fool though he turned out to be. I was just a girl once, too, and loved as fiercely as any other.”

  “We are all fools when it comes to love,” he murmured, thinking of some other thing.

  Narani craned her neck to the side, stretching it. “When you reach my age, it’s sometimes hard to remember the shape of your life as it once was. Once, I carried that bedraggled rat on my shoulders, much like you do with your girl. I would take him to the beach before lunch-time and think that I would never tire of watching him squeal as the sand sinks around his toes, such precious toes. Now his squealing sounds like wheels in much need of oiling, and if they don’t grate my old bones, they make me snore. I don’t even want to think about what his toes might look like.”

  “Sorrow,” she said with a smile, “is not always tragic.”

  He watched Rosha dance in a circle, hands outstretched, her face dappled with sunlight. “I think I know what you mean,” he murmured.

  The merchant arrived, interrupting their conversation. He bowed to them each in turn.

  “It’s about a couple of hours away, if we make good time,” he said, patting his horses. “I’ve got some business there, so I can take you right to their doorstep.”

  One of his horses drew forward and bared its teeth.

  “Papa, can I see—” Rosha called out, running towards them.

  The horse lashed out as she came around the corner. Kefier grabbed the bridle just as its teeth clamped on Rosha’s shirt. She screamed. Her shirt tore and she fell backwards.

  The fence behind them exploded.

  “What are you doing, Enosh?”

  “Watch me.” Enosh reached over, his hands tucked into fists, as if he was holding onto grains of sand. And then, very carefully, he tapped each flower-bud once before stepping back, a smug grin on his face. Kefier watched as each flower opened. The ones he didn’t touch remained closed.

  It was his earliest memory of such occurrences, but not the last. His father had called him blind to it, but it did not mean that he couldn’t see the results of this skill that he did not possess. He never said anything about it; he had been made to understand early on that if he did, he wouldn’t have been allowed to sit in on their lessons. Although not exactly forbidden, working the agan was not encouraged in Gorent. Out of fear of the Dageians, the less said about the subject, the better.

  Now, standing there with ash in his hands and the smell of smoke in the air, his mind struggled to recall all the little things that should have made it clear how much Kirosha took after her father, her real father. All her talks of fairies, which he had taken for a child’s fancy…the way she would gaze up trees and then laugh at the spray of leaves and cherry blossoms that would suddenly hurtle down towards her. How she had once played with the wind, turning it around her, and he had convinced himself it was a strange occurrence of weather and nothing else.

  “I shouldn’t have left that lantern there,” he said, turning to the merchant, who was at a loss for words.

  He placed his hand on Narani’s shoulder. “Sang, I don’t want to delay the kind man. Maybe you both go ahead, and we’ll meet you later.”

  “It’s all right, Rosha, it’s fine, you did nothing wrong,” Dai was saying, his hands wiping at the little girl’s tears.

  “Did you hear what I said, Dai?” Kefier tapped the boy’s head. “Dai,” he repeated, firmly. “You remember your name? We’ll meet you at your mother’s. I’ll find another wagon heading up there once I’ve made my amends with the farmer. I’ll have to pay for the fence or mend it myself.”

  The boy turned to him. For a moment, Kefier was convinced he was going to argue and was relieved when he didn’t say anything. He helped them both into the cart, apologized to the man for his negligence, and waved them goodbye. Only then did he look at Kirosha.

  “I don’t know what I did.” She looked frightened. He hooked his hands under her arms and pulled her into an embrace.

  “I’m not angry,” he said.

  Later that evening, after she had fallen sleep, he found himself in the inn trying to sort out what he felt. From the corner of his empty mugs, he saw Lisa. After a moment’s hesitation, he gestured at her.

  “I thought you left. They said you were on your way to the plains.” She placed a hand over the chair next to him. “Would your wife mind?”

  “Wife,” he snorted around his drink. He laughed.

  “Marital problems, I’m assuming.”

  “I wish they were. Then we’d actually be married.” He drank before turning to her questioning gaze. “You never loved me. I understand, but say you were in that position again. I’m asking you. Why the hell not?”

  She called for a drink for herself before turning back to him. “For one thing,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m old enough to be your mother.”

  Kefier snorted.

  “Well, I am! In the barest sense.”

  “My mother didn’t have me at her first moon’s blood, Lisa, and that’s supposing...fuck. Thank you for that revolting change of conversation. Get to the point.”

  “You were young, though. That much I can say. But I don’t think that’s what you wanted to hear.”

  “No.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not Rosha’s real father,” he said. “I’ve been taking care of her and her mother for the past few years.”

  Hearing himself say those words gave weight to the thought, and he suddenly wished he could undo them. He drained his ale and wiped his beard with his hands.

  “That’s...kind of you,” she said. “We don’t get enough of that around here.”

  “Kindness? That’s what it sounds like to you?” He wanted to laugh, but the weight in his chest wouldn’t let him. “Her mother is Oji’s sister. I stayed out of guilt. By all the gods, Lisa, I think I killed him.”

  “I know that they were saying that. And you were good friends—of course you would think you are to blame for his death.”

  He felt sweat trickle along his forehead. “No, you don’t understand, Lisa. I. Killed. Oji. With my sword. One clean stroke.” He picked up the mug, but it was empty and he put it back again.

  Lisa watched him. “Was it an accident?” she finally asked.

  Kefier shook his head. He didn’t know what to say.

  “Because I can understand if it was,” she said. “Oji told me himself never to wake or startle you. It’s why I was always careful whenever I crept away in the middle of the night.” When he didn’t say anything, she leaned across the table to look at him closer. “So you took care of his sister and her daughter for that. There are worse things in the world. Does she know?”

  He smiled.

  She knew him too well to know what he meant. “Then maybe, if this guilt is more than you can take, you should tell her.”

  He got up from his chair. “I should get back to Rosha. She has night terrors, and it’s been a rough day for her.”

  He dropped his head at her direction in a half-bow, a habit he had picked up after years in Jin-Sayeng, and returned to their room. Rosha had changed pos
itions from when he’d last left her, but she remained asleep. From that angle, he was painfully aware that she carried his brother’s face, that there was no denying now she was Enosh’s daughter. Kefier remembered why he was drinking downstairs.

  If he comes for you, would I let you go? Both of you?

  The words rang hollow in his head. He sank to the floor, his back against the wall. His talk with Lisa had made it clear that no matter which way he looked at it, they were going to be taken from him. In truth, they were already gone.

  Chapter Six

  Enosh almost cried out in relief when the long-awaited banging arrived at the door. He had been dreading the sound, but a part of him would have been disappointed had the rest of the night been as silent as the ones before. Without giving Sapphire a second glance, he tightened his grip on his sword and crept with his back against the wall. Behind him, a goat bleated, but he paid it no heed.

  He felt Sapphire beside him, her own hands tightened around a staff. He wondered for the first time what the mage was capable of. Now they were in a tight spot, with no room to run. Their flight from Nebel had all but frazzled her nerves; she had not spoken a word to him that whole day. Her eyes met his. A silent agreement passed between them. He nodded once and braced himself as he pried the door open.

  It was Vilum. Enosh was about to lower his sword when he realized that the man was unusually subdued. The thought lasted a full moment before a foot planted itself on Vilum’s back and pushed him into the barn. The figure glanced at him and tugged at the scarf around his face, revealing Daro.

  “Shit. Aren’t you a welcome sight,” Daro said. He kicked Vilum a second time and then gestured behind him. “It’s him, Mahe. Oh, Ab, I never thought we’d actually find you. Just let me die in peace, now.” Without waiting to see what Enosh would do, he slumped against the side of his barn and allowed his sword to drop from his side.

  Mahe wasn’t as dismissive of their situation. She turned to Enosh and narrowed her eyes. “What now?” she asked. When Vilum tried to jump, she jabbed the bottom of a spear into his armpit.

  Daro laughed. “I don’t know, Mahe. I just want a drink and a warm bed with no less than five pillows on it. And not having to deal with a madman’s rampaging would be nice. I didn’t even realize owning griffons was a fashionable thing these days. Did any of you?”

  Enosh found his voice. “I didn’t peg you for a man of humour, Prefect Daro.”

  “You should hear some of my jokes.”

  “They’re hilarious,” Mahe droned, planting another kick into Vilum’s backside. The mage groaned.

  Sapphire lifted her hand. “It seems we’ve returned to that impasse from several days back.”

  “It seems indeed,” Daro spat. “Do you realize how hard it was tracking both of you while trying to avoid getting skewered by that boy and his cursed beast? What in Ab’s name did you do to piss him off, Ferral?”

  “I’ve never met him in my life.”

  Daro snorted. “I find that hard to believe. You seem like the kind of man who can make enemies without even thinking about it.”

  “All I gathered was that my old master sent him. Why he would want me killed, I have no idea. It’s not like I’ve heard from him.” He rubbed his hands together. “If I could somehow talk to him, perhaps…”

  “You will do no such thing,” Sapphire said. “Not if I can help it. I told you before: you’re coming with us to Dageis.”

  Daro glanced at her and then at Enosh. He threw his head back and laughed.

  “Instead of acting like a lunatic, perhaps you could enlighten the rest of us,” Sapphire grunted.

  “You’re taking him to Dageis? Well! You stubborn, fool mages—we could’ve saved ourselves a lot of trouble if we’d have stuck together in the first place. Well, now we’re here. It’s the middle of the night and I’m in no mood to dawdle. Where in Dageis were you planning to take him?”

  Sapphire adjusted her spectacles before speaking. “We wanted to take him to the Plateau. To our understanding, our own master, Bannal, had sought refuge there.”

  Daro’s eyes widened. “You and him?” He jerked a thumb back at Vilum.

  “Yes.”

  “A pair of stray mages from Gaspar?”

  “We are not Gasparian mages. Vilum and I are from Enji, working under the masters of Raggnar rog-Bannal’s bloodline.”

  Daro began to rub his temples. “Even better: you’re a pair of rogues with enough knowledge in Dageian magic to be dangerous. If both of you walked into Eheldeth right now, they would kill you.”

  “You know less about Eheldeth than you think.” She tapped her spectacles with a finger. “In any case, we both want to take him to Dageis. I don’t see why we can’t work together. You’ve got to admit, the circumstances have made for quite a convenient arrangement for us. You help us get to our master, and you can keep Ylir to take to your superior.”

  “I get no say in this at all?” Enosh asked.

  “No,” Daro and Sapphire said, in unison.

  “That’s decided, then,” Daro continued, rubbing his hands. “You can hold me to my word, as long as I can hold you to yours. Sapphire, was it?”

  “Sapphire Orsalian,” she said.

  “Izo,” Daro replied, bowing. “I am Izo As’ondaro. But before we get too friendly—” He grabbed his sword and with one swift motion, ran it through Vilum’s stomach and up his ribcage. Vilum’s eyes flew wide open. Daro pulled away and watched as Vilum took a step before crumpling in a pool of his own blood.

  He turned to Sapphire and Enosh. “For the ambassador,” he said. He flicked the blood off his sword, slid it back into the sheath, and stepped out into the night.

  They weren’t on the road an hour when the sky darkened and a winged shadow covered the moon behind them. Enosh turned, his reflexes dulled by hunger and exhaustion. Daro ran past him. “Mahe!” he screamed.

  Enosh couldn’t see what she was doing. She had slipped into the darkness before the griffon had caught up with them. But he heard the massive wings as the creature hovered above them. Its beak cracked open, revealing a blotched, purple tongue and pin-like teeth.

  He felt a hand on his wrist. “Run.” Sapphire’s voice was like a thin sliver behind his ear. “Let those two deal with him.”

  “Leave them, you mean?”

  “I mean don’t put yourself in more harm than necessary.” Enosh watched Mahe tear after the griffon with her spear and saw what she meant. He nodded and ran down the curve of the path. Perhaps if he could drop further and reach the safety of the woods ahead…

  A talon smashed into his shoulder. He rolled along the path and somehow managed to wrap his arms around his head to cushion it. Stars swam through his senses and he struggled to rise even as he prepared himself for the death-blow.

  It didn’t come. He heard a shriek that sounded almost like a woman’s, opened his eyes, and saw Sapphire backed into a corner, the griffon’s claws digging into her torso. Its rider jumped down, glanced at Enosh, before stepping towards her, his blade swinging through the air.

  “You’ve made your point, Arn,” Sapphire hissed through the bubbling blood in her mouth. “Are you just going to stand there with your mouth open? Be quick about it.”

  “I don’t know if I want to, bitch. Did you allow Kusa the same courtesy when you mindlessly killed him?” He spat to the side. “I don’t intend to kill you here. I want you to suffer first, every last bit of you. He was my father, bitch, as much as anyone could ever be, and…”

  “Your serving wench’s prattle exhausts me,” Sapphire said, looking straight at him. “Move, or don’t.”

  Arn laughed. The moment allowed Enosh to stick a dagger into his back. The griffon cried out, even before its master did, and dropped Sapphire to attack him. Izo and Mahe were suddenly on them, their blades flashing in the air. In the commotion, Arn managed to jump on the griffon’s back. His arm draped over the creature’s neck, he called out and disappeared as quickly as he’d come, leavin
g a bright trail of blood on the ground.

  “Talk to me, old girl,” Enosh said, rushing to Sapphire’s side.

  “Bit my tongue,” she murmured, grabbing his shoulder as she struggled to stand. “Didn’t see it move. Think your stupidity rubbed off on me.”

  “Let me help,” Daro said, reaching for her. “Did you get him, Ferral?”

  “I missed his vitals. He’ll live, unless he’s an idiot. But he might give us time to disappear.” He glanced at Sapphire. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

  “I don’t owe you any answers,” she coughed, turning away from him. A strip of cloth fell from her robe, revealing long gashes along her ribs. Enosh heard Daro mutter under his breath. She glanced down and the look that fell across her face tottered between nauseous and irritated.

  “We have to get you to a healer.” Daro glanced at Mahe. She nodded and strode ahead.

  Sapphire’s face contorted. “Vilum was a healer,” she murmured. “Best I knew.”

  “Let’s not talk about this right now.”

  “So if I die you never have to at all? Please. I need you to hear this. I pegged you for a man of honour the moment I saw you, and what you did to my cousin tonight, Prefect, held no honour in it at all.”

  Daro shrugged. “Man was an ass.”

  She didn’t reply. After a moment’s hesitation, Enosh reached forward to touch her cheek. There was no response; she still breathed, but her skin was ice-cold. He curled his fingers and glanced at Daro. “You could just leave her now, you know. Take me and go.”

  “You’re forward. Is that what you want?”

  “I needed to know your reaction.” He grabbed Sapphire’s other arm and hefted the rest of her weight onto his shoulders. “And no. I don’t want that at all. Inconvenient as it is, she did save me.”

  “That’s unexpected, coming from you.”

  “I’m a man of surprises, Prefect Daro.”

  “Would you happen to have any useful surprises?”

  “Sadly, I’m confined to wit these days. But my God, Sapphire, you’re heavy. You know where this road leads to?”