An Elegy of Heroes

by K. S. Villoso

  “Dageians like tragedy and comedy, though the dialogue can get overwrought at times,” Sapphire said. “Too much attempt at wit and not enough content.”

  “Ah, so something that sounds like our conversations?”

  “Exactly.”

  They continued walking. Up ahead, Tribune Amiren was speaking to Daro about something. There were no other soldiers with them. When they had turned themselves over to the officials at Lon Basden, she had been able to convince them that Daro’s intervention—despite breaking protocol—had saved her life. Because of the disruption in the region, an inquiry by General Takas would have to wait. Neither seemed too concerned about the ramifications of this. Although they had returned to the professional, military facade that seemed to define the majority of their interactions, it was still clear, to anyone who dared look, that they were in a world of their own.

  “You have decided to try, with Sume, then?” Sapphire asked.

  Enosh tried to mask his amazement that she would dare ask such a question with laughter. “You say that like it’s such a bad thing,” he said.

  “I don’t know what you mean. It’s a serious question.”

  “What is trying and what is not?”

  “Not trying is when you either pay them after you’re done with them or you deliberately neglect to give them information on how to reach you for further trysts.”

  He rubbed the back of his head. “How closely have you been looking at my affairs?”

  “Looking closely was not necessary. In case I need to remind you, I shared a wall with you these past few years.”

  “I ah…didn’t think we were that loud.”

  Sapphire glared at him. “I could, word for word, repeat the lines you use, and rank them in order of effectiveness.”

  “Could you? That sounds useful.”

  They reached a gate, guarded by two soldiers. Mahe turned around. “I have to check for weapons,” she said.

  “You told us not to bring any before we left the inn,” Enosh replied.

  She ignored him and patted him down first before moving towards Sapphire. When she was satisfied, she turned and nodded to the guards, who unlocked the gates. They strode up a slippery, brick staircase, leading into a narrow hallway.

  “When you see Kastor, try not to kill him,” Sapphire said.

  “Are you talking to yourself there, Sapphire?”

  “I am, actually,” Sapphire said. They followed Mahe through a set of ornate doors and into a musty hall.

  Enosh saw Bannal sitting at the far end of the table, a shroud of indifference over his face. He also recognized Keeper Imreia and another face from the Eheldeth High Council that he couldn’t put a name to. Mahe and Daro assumed the seats opposite of Bannal.

  Enosh took the seat around the corner to Daro. It was the furthest he could get from Bannal.

  “Why,” Bannal said, before Enosh could even take another breath, “does this man continue to sit with us?”

  “Enosh Tar’elian-Gorent is a valuable asset to the Enji-ar, or so Firekeeper Ceres’ reports state.” Mahe sounded even more frightening than usual.

  “Keeper Ceres is biased,” Bannal hissed.

  “How is that my fault?” Enosh asked politely.

  Bannal glared at him.

  “I care little for personal grievances,” Mahe said.

  “This is hardly personal,” Bannal replied. “This man’s involvement with Gorrhen yn Garr should not be overlooked.”

  “King Agartes now, actually,” Enosh said helpfully.

  Bannal ignored him. “To have him here, when his former employer is bringing war right to our door, seems a tad careless, don’t you think?”

  “Are you questioning my judgment, Bearer Kastor?”

  Bannal licked his lips. Daro crossed his arms and gave the sort of grunt of a man who knew he would be chastised for speaking up, but wanted to give his opinion, anyway. “Enosh Tar’elian has not shown any signs of defecting to his past employer over the last few years. I’ve pored through Adherent Sapphire’s reports. Shall you call her biased, as well?”

  “I’m sure she is,” Bannal said, turning to Sapphire. “The man must taint the opinion of any woman who crosses his path.”

  “Such remarks do not belong in a meeting like this, Bearer,” Keeper Imreia broke in.

  Bannal leaned back against his seat. “I apologize,” he said, in a tone that indicated he didn’t mean a word.

  Mahe cleared her throat. “We’re here to discuss our strategies for the incoming attack on Lon Basden, which has been confirmed as much by our scouts. King Agartes of Hafod has mobilized his army. We are expecting him to position his troops for a siege. Our scouts have reported an estimated 3,300 Hafed soldiers, 300 of which are mounted swordsmen and the rest comprised of foot soldiers and archers. He has also bolstered his army with an estimated 800 mercenaries from the Kag, a company known as the Boarshind, which he owned under the name of Gorrhen yn Garr.”

  “We know about the Boarshind,” Bannal said. “It’s commanded by that man’s brother.”

  “Lon Basden’s defences,” Mahe continued, ignoring him, “number at 1000 soldiers. We also have fifty mages working under direct military command. I’ve requested Prefect Lodan to have them report to Keeper Imreia within the day.

  “As long as the Orasmus Strait remains clear behind us, a siege with an army as small as King Agartes is bringing would normally not be of any concern. It is clear that he does not intend a full-fledged assault.

  “During the attack on Fort Oras, which I personally oversaw—” Enosh noticed her jaw twitch, but nothing else. She looked down on a piece of paper in her hands. “Hafod made use of Naijwa’s beast, a necromantic creature stitched together using the agan by the Gasparian witch Naijwa many centuries ago. Parts of this creature had been sealed in undisclosed locations by Raggnar rog-Bannal, a mage of Eheldeth. Raggnar rog-Bannal also founded the settlement of mages at Lake Enji, tasked with protecting the land against such further disturbances.

  “Kastor rog-Bannal and Sapphire Orsalian, sitting before us, are two survivors of Gorrhen yn Garr’s attack at Enji.”

  “One that he—” Bannal started.

  Mahe looked up at him. “I am merely reading what this report says, Bearer Kastor. Please refrain from interrupting.” She took a deep breath. “They now work under Firekeeper Ceres, with Prefect Izo As’ondaro to provide military assistance. Their orders are to eliminate Naijwa’s beast, in whatever means necessary, to preserve the safety and wellbeing of the Empire of Dageis.”

  Mahe now lifted her eyes from the report to look at all of them. “As I have mentioned, it is clear that King Agartes is not going to risk what little soldiers he has against our walls. In Fort Oras, he used the creature to turn the battle to his favour. We expect him to stick with what works.”

  “He could launch an assault by sea,” Enosh broke in.

  Mahe didn’t even look at him. “We’ve received no reports that would indicate this.”

  “He’s got more resources than you all realize. The man’s had a hundred years to amass them, and he was ruthless about it, too.” Enosh looked at the map on the table. “If he somehow sneaks up along the strait, he could attack us from behind. He’s not an idiot.”

  “Then we’ll fortify the guard towers,” Mahe said. “Our defences, however, should take the creature’s arrival as the main priority. You may speak now, Bearer Kastor.”

  Bannal nodded. “If you read through these reports, you will no doubt come across our theory—nay, our belief—that destroying this creature is not only difficult, but dangerous for all involved. Naijwa’s beast itself is like a walking portal through the agan fabric, with an area contained for its purposes alone. If I tried to explain the mechanics of it, we might be here all day…”

  “So don’t,” Enosh said.

  Bannal glanced at him for a moment before continuing. “We cannot fathom the effect of such a creature’s destruction. It is why Raggnar rog-Bannal chose
to seal parts of it instead. Our attempt to contain it, therefore, should mimic what we know works for it.”

  “Raggnar had very powerful mages with him,” Sapphire said. “This includes Farg, a shiar warrior from Shi-uin, Jaeth, a prince of Gorent, and Faci, a kusyani. There are others, but much of what we knew was destroyed during the attack on Enji.”

  “You do not have such mages now?” Mahe asked.

  Sapphire chuckled. “Not any with links to such ancient arts as Farg, Jaeth, and Faci did. There is a ka-eng in Firekeeper Ceres’ custody, but I doubt she will want to assist in an effort against her master. We only have Eheldeth-trained mages. Knowledgeable as we are, our techniques are sorely lacking in some areas.”

  “She finally admits it,” Enosh said.

  Sapphire glared at him before continuing. “Furthermore, when Naijwa’s beast was first contained, it had only fed on one small village. It is not the same creature we face today. This creature, borne from only its eye, has been fed by Gorrhen yn Garr for over fifteen years.”

  “Closer to eighteen,” Enosh said.

  “It’s also gone through at least four settlements—two of which included the cities of Oren-yaro and Shirrokaru—and ate a dragon, besides. When Raggnar’s circle had to face it, it was about the size of—I don’t know, this table, here.” She tapped the wooden surface.

  Mahe’s face remained calm, but Enosh could detect a trickle of sweat making its way down her cheek. “What do you suggest then, Adherent Sapphire?”

  Sapphire’s fingers danced along the table. “I don’t know. Keeper Imreia’s desire to check on the background of your mages is sound. We need to know what they’re capable of before we device a plan, one which involves sealing instead of trying to destroy it, as Bearer Kastor said.”

  “Something that sounds difficult enough on its own,” Bannal said. “Except of course we have to do it while keeping the Hafed army at bay.”

  “Worry about your mages,” Mahe said. “It sounds like the priority would be to protect them while they march against the beach. Even containing it for the moment would be adequate—we can pick at the Hafed army from Lon Basden’s walls in the meantime.”

  “We could do that,” Sapphire replied. “We’ll have to talk about it.”

  “You can talk about it,” Bannal said, nodding at Imreia and the other Eheldeth mage, whom Enosh now recalled was named Zerak. “I would like to bring all of this to Keeper Solat in Drusgaya.”

  “Keeper Solat is the High Keeper for Drusgaya’s defenses,” Sapphire said. “He is not part of Eheldeth’s council.”

  “Obviously, we need outside opinion about how to handle this matter,” Bannal said.

  “What would they know that we don’t?” Sapphire’s face twitched. “I think you just want to avoid the fighting.”

  “What did the tribune say about bringing personal issues to this meeting?” Bannal asked. He crossed his arms. “Keeper Solat is a wise man and commands more mages than the paltry fifty that Lon Basden is offering you. The tribune is correct—the most I think you could do is temporarily control the creature. You will need reinforcements. Think you they can come from Eheldeth in time? The rest of the Enji-ar are scattered everywhere and trying to get word to them is going to be challenging.”

  “His logic is sound, Adherent Sapphire,” Imreia said.

  “I concede,” Sapphire grumbled.

  “I will send a report to General Takas and discuss the strategies with our soldiers,” Mahe said. “Thank you for your time. You’re all dismissed.”

  Everyone shuffled out of their seats. Enosh got up and felt Bannal stop right behind him. “You think you’ve got everyone wrapped up around your little finger, don’t you?”

  “What do you mean?” Enosh said. “I don’t have to use my finger. I—”

  “Spare me your droll attempts at humour,” Bannal said. “I know more about you than you think. Prove yourself false and all of this will fall apart for you.”

  He pushed past Enosh. Enosh watch him disappear around the corner before straightening his shirt. “We should assassinate him in his sleep,” he murmured to Sapphire. “I’ll hold the pillow, you hold his legs. No, I’m serious. I’ve thought this through. We’ll pretend to be dancers, you and I, although you first have to find a dress that fits me, and then…”

  It was evening by the time Enosh made his way back to the inn. He caught Sume reading one of his books on the bed. “I think I could live without ever having to see Bannal’s face again,” he said as he removed his boots. “Maybe I could throw him at Giggles’ face when we come down to it.”

  “Have you spoken to Mahe about Rosha?” Sume asked, without looking up from the book.

  “She gave me her word that Rosha will be protected during the assault, to the best of her abilities. All of her soldiers will be made aware that she needs to be extracted from the enemy’s grasp.” He tried to flash his best smile. “I think Mahe’s charmed by her. She takes after her old man, after all.”

  “That’s nice,” Sume said. She flipped a page.

  “Since when did you become Sapphire?”

  “We made a pact to confuse the wits out of you, see if you explode.”

  He placed a hand on hers. “How are we doing, Sume?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He grimaced. “You’ve been cold towards me since—gods, since Kefier arrived, actually. So it can’t just be because you’re worried about Rosha.”

  “I am worried about Rosha, as it happens. You should get on board.”

  “I told you. I spoke to Mahe about it already, which isn’t easy, I’ll have you know.” He sat up. A dozen phrases came to him, things he wanted to say but didn’t know how to. “Come with me,” he said, instead. “Worrying will only age you.”

  “And I’m sure you can’t have that.”

  “That’s not it. But think of how much more jealous everyone else will be if you don’t have as much lines as their wives.” He took her hand. “In only a few nights, Lon Basden will be under attack. We should take a walk while everything is still functioning as it should.”

  She looked up at him. He gave an expression that he hoped looked reasonably like pleading. She sighed and nodded.

  It didn’t take her very long to get ready, which was a remarkable difference to some of the noble ladies he’d been with. Their brief time in Kalthekar returned to him. In those days, he’d spent way too much time trying to compare her to his other women as a reason to resume the normal pace of his life before Yn Garr lost his patience. While Sume offered pleasant conversation, she was nowhere near the sort of challenge that someone like Reema presented. And he liked challenging women.

  Sume was something else. Now that Enosh was allowing himself to think about this as much, he realized that what she was offering him was respite against the sharp edges of the life he had made for himself. She symbolized a family and a home to return to at the end of the day. The idea that had first taken root in Aret-ni now seemed to blossom. He could do this, start something with the both of them. People responded to Rosha favourably—she was a bright, charming child when she wanted to be—while Sume was…comforting.

  They walked down to the mouth of the river that opened up into the sea. A bridge led them to a district with what passed for entertainment in Dageis. There were gambling houses with wooden horse races, the figures moving with such grace that Enosh suspected they were powered by the agan. There was an open air, night-market where they sold fresh, raw fish in chili and peanut oil, eaten in a fashion that came from Sorna, and iced milk with mung beans and jelly.

  They settled for a dance presentation recommended by Sapphire. It was an interpretation of the story of a Dageian prince, who first landed on the continent to discover the agan and thus fostered an age of enlightenment and civilization. Enosh found the story frightfully tedious—and downright discriminatory with the way they portrayed the Gorenten and Shi-uin—but the performances were adequate and the stage itself inventive enough to ke
ep his interest. It was a stage unlike anything he had ever seen in Cael, with spinning sets that changed the scenery and mechanical animals that appeared almost real. Halfway through the show, he happened to glance at Sume, who seemed amused. On such occasions, she was, at the very least, easy to please.

  They talked about the nuances of the play, guessed at the number of slaves that must’ve been working in the background (Sume figured about a dozen, Enosh thought there were only two, sleepy mages) and how the Dageians needed to learn that not all Gorenten spoke gibberish and ate monkeys off the trees. “I haven’t even done that since I was a kid,” Enosh said, provoking a burst of uncontrolled laughter from the woman on his arm.

  They picked a restaurant at random. Sapphire, apparently, knew the best plays, but couldn’t care less about the food she ate. “Which explains a lot, really,” Enosh said. “She did grow up in Gaspar.” The place they chose had a pond with lily pads and wooden swans in the middle, and lanterns that burned a deep yellow light, casting shadows everywhere. It also made you cook your own food on hot coals in the middle of the table. Enosh chose the squid, just because he hadn’t had squid in a while, while Sume picked the beef, lightly seasoned with lemon juice and salt.

  Enosh watched her eat with her fingers in that almost damnable way Jins liked to do, all but ignoring the fact that the utensils beside her would prevent her from complaining about getting burnt. “Does that make it taste better?” he asked.

  “Kefier said you eat with your fingers in Gorent, too.”

  So they did, though he had always preferred a spoon. But he had forgotten. I’ve been lost for far too long. He watched her again. A moment later, he set his fork aside and followed her lead. She looked up at him, cracking a smile. “Aren’t you afraid of embarrassing yourself?”

  “It’s not like I look anything but Gorenten,” Enosh said. “They’re not even looking. It’s when you do the unexpected that people pay attention.”