An Elegy of Heroes

by K. S. Villoso

  Enosh eyes flickered towards Makin and back to her. “Makin can accompany me back to Kalthekar,” he said, at length. “I can write up a letter, signed and verified by a scribe. Makin can take this letter to the Kag. There are no institutions here that will allow me to withdraw directly from my accounts.”

  “I don’t think that’s enough.”

  “With all due respect, my lady, it will be. It is an agreement recognized by your laws. I have no intention in staying here, unless you want me to.” He smirked at her, noting, with pleasure, the flush in her cheeks as he did so.

  “I will make sure this thing is done,” Makin said. “There is no more need for violence, my lady. Your will shall be done.”

  Reema stood motionless for a few moments before nodding. She left, her robes swirling behind her as she did so. The guards stepped back, covering her back as she disappeared down the hall.

  Makin crossed his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Ferral. It is...unfortunate that things had to get this far.”

  “Indeed. Unfortunate,” Enosh murmured. He said nothing else. Makin, perhaps recognizing how dangerous his silences were, kept his distance and one hand on the hilt of his sword as they walked. It was a clear sign that the man trusted him as little as he did, which was good enough for him. If he could not have friendship, he would at least have respect. In a world where wives attempted to trick and torture you at every turn, you couldn’t ask for much more.

  Chapter Three

  “What are you doing?” Enosh asked, breaking out of his thoughts long enough to realize that Sume was looking at him intently, elbows folded, hands curled under her chin.

  “Your eyes are unbelievably brown,” she said.

  He snorted. “Most Jins have brown eyes.”

  She shook her head. “Not the way yours are. The colour is rich, as if…”

  It took him a moment to realize that he had forgotten to hold up the glamour. He blinked. She pulled back, confused. “Why do you do that?” she asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Hold back. I know your name now, but who you are—”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He took her hand and kissed it before laying it against his bare chest. He felt her fingers curl over his skin and heard her sigh. “Why do you care?” he asked, eyes closed.

  “Why shouldn’t I?” He felt her draw back, like she was suddenly self-conscious. He lifted his head to look at her. It felt strange to be having these conversations. Yesterday, they had taken a walk down to the Kalthekar river and she had grabbed his hand, weaving her fingers through his. She was not the most beautiful woman he had shared his bed with—not even close—but he couldn’t help but notice her every gesture. It was vexing that he could not tell the significance of these.

  “Enosh,” she said. He realized he had not replied. She tucked a strand of hair over her ear before reaching out to lay her head on his shoulder. “You carry on like the only people who pay attention are those attached to your purse-strings. The world isn’t always like that.”

  “I’m not in the mood for an argument right now.”

  “So don’t argue. Listen. If I had wanted to run off with your valuables, or sold you to the highest bidder, I would’ve done it weeks ago.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not that you had any coin left or smelled good enough for anyone to want to buy you, mind…”

  He smirked. “A low blow, my lady.”

  She grew serious again. “You still doubt me.”

  “I will be this honest, at least. I have not…lived a life where trust could be given freely. My father taught me that from the very beginning. Lies can bring comfort. Protection.” He felt her thumb graze the bridge of his nose before tracing a line to his cheek. “If a lie can make a peasant into a prince…”

  “As long as you know where the lie ends and the truth begins.”

  “And what good will that do?”

  “It will help you find your way back if you get lost, for when you tire of the lies.” She smiled. “I know you may not. A part of you enjoys it, don’t you? The court intrigues. The banter. The power.”

  “Lady,” he said, taking her wrist. “You have not even known me for a year.”

  “Ah,” she murmured, smiling. “If I had made an error in judgement…”

  He leaned over to silence her with a kiss.

  Enosh opened his eyes. Sapphire was sitting beside him, twirling a ball in her hands. It disappeared when she realized he was awake. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Whole, more or less,” he said. He gazed out in the distance in silence, staring at the horizon. They must’ve crossed the Jin-Sayeng border hours ago—he recognized the Ikessar mountains in the distance. He had been so exhausted since he had rejoined Sapphire in Kalthekar that he couldn’t remember much of the last few days.

  “This is new,” Sapphire said.

  “What is?”

  She pointed at him. “You. Pensive. The bitch must’ve broken you.”

  He smirked. “She tried.”

  “I can believe that. Should I be concerned? I can find you a healer in the next town. Or a coffin, if that suits you.”

  “Jins don’t bury their dead in coffins,” he said.

  “A fair point. The ocean it is.”

  “Your head’s gone soft, Sapphire. We’re too far away from the coast.”

  “The nearest pond. I take it back—I think you’re well enough. Your mouth certainly seems to be in working order.” She slid to the corner to adjust their packs.

  “Do you think she loves me?” he asked.

  Sapphire snorted. “You are out of your mind. Why by all the gods would you even think that about that bitch? Just because you can’t discriminate well enough where to stick it into…”

  “Not Reema. Sume.”

  She looked up. “Oh.”

  “Oh? What, no insults from you?” He sighed. “I was thinking while I was there. Might’ve thought a bit too much, really. I’m not sure about what I feel about all of this.”

  “I’m not really the person you should talk to about this. For one thing, I don’t give a donkey’s behind.”

  He shrugged. “That’s what makes it perfect. You’ve seen us the past three years. You must have made some observations.”

  “I’ve made the observation, from the way you walk around each other, that the idea of love or whatever it is you call it these days is beyond my comprehension. And I happen to be an expert at a number of subjects.” She sniffed. “I don’t know what to tell you. She seems like she cares for you a great deal. She also has no shortage of harsh words for you. I’m as confused as you are, disinterested spectator as I am.” She pulled out an apple from their pack and leaned back to eat it.

  Enosh glanced up at her. “That doesn’t help me much.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’ve always been under the impression that you don’t require any help whatsoever.” When he didn’t reply, she cleared her throat. “Let me offer a piece of advice, then. For what it’s worth.”

  “By all means.”

  “Worry about what you feel.”

  “Why?”

  “Because—” She groaned. “No, forget about it. You’re impossible. Talk to Ceres, if you need to discuss this further. She’s got the experience, at least,” she added, under her breath.

  He grinned. “That she does.” He leaned against the side of the cart and looked out at the horizon. Sapphire’s mention of Ceres confused him even further. The Dageian mage was an amazing woman, one he actually respected—rare praise coming from him. Things were a lot better in those days. He was surer of himself, less prone to thinking about things beyond his control. All you can think of is yourself. The last three years had created cracks in his facade that he didn’t know were possible.

  There, on one hand, was Reema, dangling a toddler boy as bait.

  On the other hand was Sume, reading until dark by candlelight. Books on the agan and theories and spells, things she could never hope to understand. “Then m
ake me understand,” she had told him. He had traced his thumb across the length of her arm, feeling displaced by this woman that he’d had before.

  Enosh had figured that the spell was biological, a feeling brought upon by the knowledge that he’d sired offspring with her. But after the past few days with Reema, he didn’t know anymore. He felt like a child bereft of a knowledge common to everyone else; as if, unknowingly, a joke had gone on behind his back. He wanted to show applause, clap his hands and utter, “Well-played, well-played!”, but the audience was missing.

  They reached Sutan by midmorning of the second day. Enosh hung back outside the store, staring at the window of Sume’s room. Only Basing’s shrill whistle, intended for him, broke him from his thoughts. “Are you trying to deafen me, boy?” he snapped.

  “Sang Sume isn’t there, if you’re wondering,” Basing said. His deeply accented Kagtar was painful to hear.

  “Where did she run off to now?”

  “Another lover, I think. No, no, I’m jesting, jesting, Anong Enosh. Somebody sent a letter. I have it in the store. I’ll show you.” The boy ran back inside to fetch it.

  A few minutes later, he found himself rushing into the house, yelling for Sapphire to get her things ready now. They had been in Sutan for less than an hour.

  They burned Rysaran on a pyre. Enosh had disagreed with it, reasoning that the smoke would mark their location, making it easier for Arn to double back on his tracks and lead the men to them, but his sisters were stubborn and insisted it must be done. “The spirits may not let him pass otherwise,” they had said, or some other combination of equally ludicrous nonsense. His understanding was that Rysaran was an Ikessar, who followed the tenets of the prophet Kibouri, which meant burial. Perhaps they thought he was that tainted. He didn’t really want to know the details. He let them do it some distance from the caverns, which he thought might put them at risk for attack, but it was better than arguing about it for the rest of the morning.

  He returned with Sapphire to the edge of the chasm where the beast lay. It had gone unnaturally quiet since Rysaran’s death. He didn’t know if this was due to the wards he had put up earlier, or that it was shocked at what they had done—that they would dare put a blade into someone that they had called friend. From what he knew of the creature, things like these vexed it.

  Enosh still couldn’t tell how it saw things, even after all these years—it always carried a sense of both ancient wisdom and juvenile amusement. There was no question that it was sentient—he could still remember how it had been when it was still small enough to be carried around, how it would seek and then withdraw from his memories like a small child that couldn’t comprehend how fire could burn. He had not realized how dangerous the thing was in those days. If he had known…

  Would you have stopped?

  He smiled, not knowing if it was his own thoughts or the creature’s influence that brought out the question. It was legitimate enough. He had done vile things to keep it alive, after all—fed it children, as Sapphire had informed him, though he didn’t know it at the time. He could’ve found out, if he had the mind to. If he did, would he have drawn the line?

  He ran a hand through his hair as he reached the broken bridge. It was becoming increasingly difficult not to pretend that it was a mere fit of indignant rage that put him on this side of the fence. If he had not thrown all that away, dealing with Barun would’ve been a lot easier. He didn’t want to know the repercussions that would come after Makin arrives in Cael only to find out that the paper he wrote out was, essentially, useless. It would only allow him to withdraw funds if there were funds to withdraw in the first place.

  “I’ll start on the other end,” Sapphire said, her voice breaking his thoughts.

  Enosh nodded distractedly. “Draw a net around it. How many runes?”

  “Five. Show me.”

  He did, drawing something in the air that burned blue. She smacked him before stepping back to show him the right way to do it.

  “All right, I get it,” he grumbled, rubbing the side of his head. “How do you suppose we get it out of there?”

  “Get it out?” Sapphire snorted. “I thought it would be easier to just seal the caverns. It’s trapped in there, anyway.”

  He swallowed. “That’s...madness. Sapphire, Arn knows where we are. We didn’t exactly get rid of him back there.”

  “And whose fault is that?”

  “You’re the one who can throw fireballs around.”

  “You had the sword!”

  “Let’s just say we both messed up,” he said, ignoring her glares. “The fact is that he will return. And if the beast is here, he can claim it for Yn Garr.”

  “And how is he supposed to do that if I have it sealed in here?”

  Enosh chuckled. “I think you should know by now that Yn Garr will spare no expense in getting the damn thing out even if you go ahead and throw a whole mountain over it.”

  “He can’t do that in a day,” Sapphire said. “I can contact Bannal by the time that happens. He’ll have a whole circle of mages to contend with.”

  Enosh grimaced.

  “Any more objections?” she snapped. “Or do you want to just stand here all day with your finger up your nose?”

  “Let’s do the net first,” he murmured. He returned to his position and drew the five runes, as she had shown him, drawing from the agan around him as he did so. It was a difficult spell to create on the spot, one he had been unable to do in his youth. Jarche would probably say that she had tried to show him, but he couldn’t remember. In the past, he had relied on preparing the spell on scrolls, which he would take with him where necessary. He could grudgingly admit—if Sapphire wasn’t around to listen—that her techniques made things a lot less awkward and embarrassing for him.

  After the fifth rune, he pulled, feeling the effect of a strong but numb connection between him and the creature. At the other end, he felt a tug as Sapphire did the same thing. The creature, realizing the intrusion, uttered a low groan that shook the walls of the cavern before falling to the ground with a thud. The agan-net served to immobilize it.

  “Well done,” Enosh murmured, feeling a flash as the creature attempted to batter his mind and encountered his previous spell instead. He wiped sweat from his brow. “Now, to implode a mountain.”

  “Easier said than done,” Sapphire replied, looking up.

  “Oh, well,” Enosh said. “We can’t all be geniuses.”

  She shot him a look before striding out of the cave. He followed her, smirking.

  Sume was waiting for them outside. “You’re done?” Enosh asked. “I didn’t realize we were there for so long.”

  “Would’ve gone faster if some people knew what they were doing,” Sapphire grunted.

  “Indeed. You should be ashamed of yourself, Sapphire.”

  “The princesses have returned to the temple,” Sume said. She nodded at the cave. “How are you going to deal with that thing?”

  “Well, Sapphire had this brilliant idea of collapsing the whole mountain to seal it in,” he said. When Sume’s eyes widened, he added, “And I told her it was a bad idea. What in all the gods’ names were you thinking, Sapphire?”

  “Sealing it isn’t the same as destroying it,” Sume said.

  “No,” Sapphire agreed. “It will, however, still keep it away from the hands of those seeking to use it.”

  She turned to him. “How is that supposed to keep Rosha safe?”

  “It won’t stop it from trying to find her within the agan, that much is true,” Enosh murmured. “In fact, it would probably make it worse once it realizes it can’t capture any other prey.”

  “You’re not helping,” Sapphire commented.

  “So what, pray, is your brilliant plan?” Sume said, her voice rising. “From what I understand, the only reason it’s chasing after Rosha at all is because it’s connected you to her. Why doesn’t it go for you, instead?”

  “I’ve set up the proper barriers against
it,” Enosh said. “And if Rosha has been with Jarche this long, I’m sure she’s learned to do the same. However, it’s a fair point, Sapphire. When Raggnar rog-Bannal sealed the beast, he didn’t just tie it up and throw rocks over it. I think it’s best if we leave it be for now while we figure out our options.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Sume whispered.

  “What?”

  “Arn was right. You’ve got other plans. You want to keep the thing around so you can sell it.”

  He flinched under the accusation in her eyes. “Come now, that’s not true at all,” he coughed. “Tell her, Sapphire.”

  Sapphire’s eyes flickered towards him. “This is not a conversation I am comfortable with,” she grumbled.

  “He had set up a meeting with Warlord Oichi. With the state of Jin-Sayeng right now, a weapon this powerful could turn the tides for the Jeinza clan,” Sume said.

  Enosh scratched his ear, hoping his expression betrayed nothing. “Sume…”

  “I am done with your lies, Enosh. Your daughter’s life doesn’t mean a thing to you. Admit it.”

  That’s not true, Enosh thought, struggling to think of what to say. I saved the boy’s, and I’m not even fond of his mother all that much.

  Sapphire cleared her throat. “As much as I hate to interrupt your personal issues, I do have to point out that destroying Naijwa’s beast—even just a part of it—is not an easy thing to do. There is a reason that Raggnar rog-Bannal chose to do what he did when he sealed parts of the creature across the land. This thing has grown beyond the original, becoming its own thing. Who can say what catastrophe will occur if we mindlessly butcher it here?”

  She pointed at the horizon. “There’s a city down there. Are you willing to sacrifice those people? How about the farms further down the road? I would guess that we might even end up tearing this whole chunk of the continent, causing the very destruction we are trying to prevent. No.” She pushed her spectacles up her nose. “Even if I knew how to do this, I dare not.”

  “There will be even more deaths if we don’t do anything at all,” Sume said.