An Elegy of Heroes

by K. S. Villoso

  “I know you’d rather be reading a book than doing this right now,” Enosh said, flashing Rosha his biggest grin. “But do try to socialize with everyone.”

  She stared at him. “What do you want me to say?”

  “You’re my daughter. Make something up.”

  “I don’t understand what that means.”

  He stepped past her to shake the hand of a dignitary, one of the partners of a construction company based in Drusgaya and looking to start something in Lon Basden. Enosh had sent him a letter a couple of months ago, outlying the untapped resources in the region. A possible partnership with Risen Industries, formerly Yn Garr Industries, could be profitable for the both of them.

  “You have a lovely bride, Count Tar’elian,” the man said, giving him the deep sort of smile that Enosh liked to see in people he conducted business with. “Though she doesn’t look as Jinsein as I thought.”

  “Glamour, I’m afraid,” Enosh said. “There’s not a lot of Jinseins in Dageis. The attention makes her self-conscious.”

  “Quite understandable. Have you succeeded in setting shop here in Lon Basden?”

  “I signed papers for my new office just last week. It’s got a nice view of the harbour and a wonderful restaurant just right around the corner. You must come by for dinner before you return to Drusgaya—I’ll pay.”

  “An excellent idea.”

  “How are the reconstruction efforts in Drusgaya coming along?”

  The man grimaced. “Not pretty. The Empire is insisting all builders operating in the area assist as part of our civic duty, telling us we’ll be repaid in due time, which means they don’t have the money to pay us and we’ll have to sink ourselves in debt just to get things running again. There’s talk of finding ways to make your company pay for all of it.”

  “There’s always talks of shifting the blame. Yn Garr acted by himself, stealing funds from the company for his own personal gain. The partners themselves can attest to that.”

  “Oh, I’m quite aware of all of that. A friendly warning that it all hasn’t gone away.” The old man wiped his hands over his vest. “But I won’t bog down your wedding day with business talk. Another time. Is that roast duck I see?”

  “Help yourself.”

  “I will.” He waddled away.

  Enosh straightened his cuffs and crossed the end of the room to meet the Dageian soldier who had just arrived. “I missed it, didn’t I?” Daro asked.

  “You did,” Enosh said.

  “Oh, good. I wasn’t looking forward to listening to a priest drone on and on about good fortunes and omens. And why Endros?”

  “I used the same guy to bless the office last week. I thought it would be amusing.”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you,” Daro snorted. “I should go over and congratulate your bride.”

  “You should.”

  “It would look amiss if I didn’t.”

  “It would.”

  He dipped his head and strode over to do just that. Enosh found Rosha sulking in a corner. “I thought I told you—”

  “That last one smelled like cabbages,” Rosha said. “I don’t want to talk to these people.”

  Enosh sighed. “You know, I’m expecting you to be on your best behaviour when we meet the Eheldeth representatives later.”

  She blinked at him. “Who says this isn’t my best behaviour?”

  “We have to find a better way to talk to each other, Rosha. Hate me in private if you want, but out here in public, you need to remember who you are and what you signify. We’re trying to make something out of the Tar’elian name. You’re a true noble lady, now, a count’s daughter.”

  “Bought titles.”

  “Lots of titles in Dageis are bought.” Enosh smiled and waved at someone in the distance before turning back to her. “Deal with it a little longer. I’ll see to your mother.”

  Rosha rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything.

  He went up to Daro, who was engaged in a witty conversation with his bride. “Trying to steal her away from me, are you, Prefect?” he asked.

  “I just might,” Daro laughed. “A soldier gets lonely when assigned by his superior to an outpost as lonely as Lon Basden.”

  Ceres tittered. “Such terrible gentlemen.”

  “We could engage in a duel,” Enosh said. “I see a fire poker in the corner there, and you can use a table leg.”

  “Not going to fall for that one, Tar’elian—I have my sword right here.”

  “A pity. Mine didn’t match this suit, so I had to leave it at home. Where is Tribune Amiren?”

  “Busy with paperwork, as always,” Daro said. “She has asked to speak with you, if you have the time. Said she’d rather do it in private.”

  “Today’s as good a day as any.” Enosh glanced at Ceres. “Do you mind entertaining the guests a little longer? Send them home after their second wine. I’m sorry if I’m asking too much from you.”

  “No, this is great,” Ceres grinned. In a lower voice, she added, “It’s not like I have this much fun back in Eheldeth.”

  “Watch it,” Daro grumbled. “You’ll blow our cover.”

  “Talking about blowing our cover will blow our cover,” she hissed back.

  Enosh smiled and gestured at Rosha, who came walking up towards them. “I might as well bring her to the Eheldeth representatives afterwards. It’s near the barracks. Shall we?”

  They passed by the priest, who looked like he was on his third wine, and went out on the street. It was nice and warm. If he had known how pleasant summers here were, he would’ve found a way to move a long time ago.

  “So, Risen Industries now, is it?” Daro asked. “How is that working out? I figured the last thing your old master’s partners want is to have anything to do with you.”

  “Not quite correct. Plus, Queen-elect Isobel pulled some strings for me,” Enosh said with a grin.

  “You lucky bastard. You know her?”

  He winked. “Who doesn’t?”

  Daro whistled. “You’re like an unleashed dog. It hasn’t even been six months.”

  “To be fair, I’ve worked that angle a long time ago. I just—reminded her—of my existence. Yn Garr and King Elrend’s arrangement made a lot of sense. Why throw it all away simply because that one fell awry?” He tipped his head towards the horizon. “She’s allowing the Gorenten to settle in the peninsula, too.”

  “Fodder in case Dageis attacks Fort Oras.”

  “Don’t think we know it. But Dageis can’t afford retaliation right now, and Hafod is trying to make them see that they didn’t agree with what King Agartes did. Lon Basden is a peace offering, and it’s helped—the Gorenten are flocking to the peninsula in droves. We’ve got over two hundred people now, and the village is growing by the day.”

  Daro nodded. “Still seems like a better deal than getting chased down across the waters by slavers. Has Ceres ever admitted to that?”

  “No,” Enosh said. “She’s insisting it’s the work of mage factions outside of Eheldeth. Unapproved, illegal.”

  “I’m telling you this as a friend, Enosh, and not as a soldier: the mages keep secrets of their own. There is a reason Eheldeth functions as a separate entity and not as part of the Dageian military.”

  “I wasn’t born yesterday, Daro. They’re eerily silent about the repercussions of the damage that Naijwa’s beast did in the mountains.”

  “I heard that it ripped open a giant hole in the agan fabric. Agan came rushing out, creating a lake in the Hartmur mountain area. I’m supposed to be organizing a group to go out there and survey the damage. But it’s just agan. How bad can it be?”

  Enosh stared at him. “You can’t be that naïve, Daro. Natural sources of the agan have always been hidden—underground, tucked away inside mountain ranges. This is wide open, with a ready hole. Eheldeth is pretending that it’ll all sort itself out by next year, but we have recruits coming in from Kago who say otherwise. You know that Cairntown has been more or le
ss abandoned? Too much crackling in the air at night, lots of instability. Houses being set on fire at random.”

  “Something to look forward to,” Daro sighed.

  They arrived at Mahe’s office. “I think she wants to talk to you alone,” Daro said.

  Enosh raised his eyebrows. “And you’ll allow that?”

  Daro snorted. “She’s my superior. If she asks me to jump off a bridge, I’m legally obliged to.” He dropped his voice into a growl. “You behave.”

  “Please. Like you can get that woman to look at anyone else. And I’ve tried.”

  “You’ve tried? When did you try? Why the hell would you even try? Get out of my sight, Tar’elian.” Daro opened the door and all but shoved him in.

  Mahe was standing by the window. She glanced at him and gestured.

  He stepped towards her. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?” he asked.

  “Oh, cut the pleasantries,” Mahe said. She paused. “Congratulations on your wedding, though. I guess.”

  “The reception’s still going on. You should come. We have plum cake.”

  She looked away. “I’m resigning from the military.”

  Enosh approached her. “Why tell me this?”

  She tapped the windowsill. “You and your brother are rebuilding the Gorenten, helping them settle in your ancestral lands in the peninsula.”

  “A pleasant by-product from all of this. But what does that have to do with your decision?”

  “I’d like to do the same for the Shi-uin.”

  Enosh smiled. “Ah. Don’t you think that Prefect Daro will support you on this?”

  “He would,” Mahe murmured. “Too much, I think.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want to do this alone. Without his help. I will ask him to stay in the military. In any case, I don’t think Keeper Ceres will allow him to walk away as easily—she needs him here to oversee the Hartmur rip.” She turned to him. “Will you help me? I don’t know anyone else with that…capacity. You know people. You have resources.”

  “After all you’ve done for me and my family, I’m forever in your debt,” Enosh said. “Just say the word and I’ll assist in whatever way I can.” He glanced at the door. “When are you going to tell him?”

  “I don’t know. He won’t be happy about it.” She glanced at her fingers. “It’s not—I’m not trying to leave him. I’m trying to find a way to stay with him. Move beyond what we are now.” She swallowed. “Even if it means no longer being at his side all the time.”

  “I understand. I won’t breathe a word to him until you’re ready.”

  “Thank you, Enosh.”

  He smirked and bowed.

  “What was that about?” Daro asked as he stepped out of the office.

  “She wanted to know when I was free for a tryst,” Enosh said. “I told her as soon as Ceres returns to Eheldeth…”

  Daro scowled. “You think you’re funny, but you’re not.”

  Enosh placed a hand on Daro’s shoulder. “You’re the lucky bastard, Daro. Never forget that.” He whistled to Rosha. Frowning, she strode up to join him.

  They returned to the harbour. Enosh straightened his clothes before bending over to pluck a stray feather from Rosha’s hair. She glared at him.

  “You’ve got to look presentable,” he said.

  “I thought they only worry about your connection to the agan and if you’re going to be worth their time.”

  “You’re my daughter. You have to—”

  “Gods, I know already. Am I doomed to hear that for the rest of my life?”

  Enosh laughed. “Unfortunately.”

  Rosha sighed. He smirked at her, and then, after a moment, reached down to pull her into a quick embrace. “They’ll love you,” he said. “Don’t worry, little lady.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  He chuckled. “And we won’t send you to Eheldeth until you’re older. You’ll be studying here in Lon Basden until they deem you ready.”

  She gave a disgusted sound. “So I have to see you all the time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great.”

  “I love you too, you little imp.”

  Rosha rolled her eyes.

  “And you can come home every few weeks, so it’s not like we’re stuck with each other. Let Kefier babysit once in a while. He deserves it after raising a stubborn brat like you.” They continued walking down the street. At the harbour, Rosha suddenly stopped, gazing out at the ships below.

  “The last trading ship of the season…” she murmured. “Jaeth did come home after all.”

  Enosh glanced at her. “What was that?”

  “Nothing,” she said. She looked up at him. “This time, you’re the one staying here and I’m the one being sent away.”

  “I don’t—”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.” She looked at his hand and after a moment of hesitation, took it, holding it between both of hers. Enosh felt a warmth unlike everything he had ever felt before. He thought of Agartes and suddenly understood.

  “Let’s not keep them waiting,” he said.

  She nodded.

  “Sume, can I ask you something?”

  She stirred sleepily beside him, one arm draped over his bare chest. “What is it?”

  “What the hell is up with the my lord thing with Enosh?”

  She opened one eye. “Really. You’re going to talk about this right now?”

  “Well…”

  Sume pulled herself up to look at Kefier squarely in the eyes. “I can stop.”

  He grimaced. “I’m not saying that. I was just wondering…”

  She allowed her fingers to climb up his collarbone. “Are you also wondering how his wedding is coming along?”

  “Your wedding, you mean.”

  She nibbled his ear. “Technicalities.”

  Kefier snorted. “I think he ordered two elaborate cakes and five different types of roasted animal.”

  “There was a juggler, too.”

  “And a clown. He doesn’t even like clowns. I know he kept the guest list small, but it’s still so much frivolities for a fake wedding.”

  “It’s not exactly a fake wedding. Just, you know, a fake bride.”

  “We still have to pay for the damn thing. Between that and the construction of the new Boarshind keep down in the valley, we’re going to be bleeding from the ears before we turn a profit.”

  “Look at you, starting to talk like a true merchant.” Sume turned his cheek towards her and began to kiss him.

  Distractedly, Kefier started kissing back, before pulling away. His eyes bore into hers. “How long are you planning to stay married to him?” he whispered.

  “For as long as Rosha needs it,” she murmured. She placed her fingers over his face. “Why does it matter? You’re the one I’m with.”

  Kefier frowned. “I know. I’m just not sure I’m comfortable with this arrangement.”

  “No one is, my love. But it is better than what it could’ve been.”

  “Because you would have never left him if he had not made the decision to let you go.”

  Sume held her breath for a moment. “I wouldn’t say never.”

  Kefier smirked. “Right.”

  “You know me too well. Is that what you’re going to say?”

  “Maybe.”

  That old ache was still between them, and it was too soon for her to tell if it was ever going to go away. But something about the way he continued to hold her, in spite of everything, felt right. It had always felt right. “I don’t think I could have ever imagined that he would step aside for the sake of someone else’s happiness, let alone do what he has done for us. He…” She caught the look in Kefier’s eyes. “I know you don’t want to talk about it.”

  “No.”

  She cupped his face in her hands. “I also know that you know what I feel, even if I can’t always find the words. And that’s…”

  He ran his hand along her back. �
�Maybe you have to remind me.”

  “Remind you of what?”

  “Hmmm,” Kefier said, kissing her fingers one by one while he pretended to think. The smile on his face faded. He gently coaxed her towards him until their foreheads touched. She closed the gap, her lips parting over his mouth as her body molded against him in a brief moment of time where it felt like they would never let each other go.

  They heard the dogs bark.

  “Shit.”

  “I think we have a visitor,” Sume whispered.

  Kefier groaned. “There can’t be.” He tried to draw her back into his arms. Stifling laughter, she pushed away.

  “Daisy never barks unless there’s someone.”

  “Ishir knows he’s not supposed to come back until tomorrow.”

  “Why ever would you order him to do such a thing?”

  “Why ever not? Three days in complete solitude with you…” He grinned. She threw a pillow at his head and quickly got dressed. He rolled over the side of the bed to do the same.

  They went downstairs. Kefier unlocked the door and swore out loud. Standing outside were Ichi rok Sagar and Hira alon gar Sethi. Their faces were streaked with dirt.

  Sume got over her shock long enough to remember her manners and ushered them inside. Kefier looked displeased, but she ignored him. “This is a long way to travel to see me,” she said, pulling out chairs for them to sit on.

  Sagar heaved himself into one. “I almost didn’t want to go,” he said evenly. She had not seen him in over two years, but he looked almost exactly the same, as if his aging had reached its peak. “But she insisted, and we needed to flee.”

  “Jin-Sayeng is in civil war,” Hira said. “His life’s in danger.”

  “That’s not even the important part,” Sagar snorted. “Warlord Yeshin and Warlord Lushai have seized control of the Dragonthrone.”

  “Both of them?” Sume asked. “Did they get married?”

  Sagar didn’t look amused. “They still haven’t decided who’ll take the throne. They’ve been too busy defending themselves from the other warlords. Ryabei was executed and I barely escaped with my life.” He swallowed. “I tried to seek refuge with Princess Roa, who declared her intention to take her brother’s place. A travesty, I knew, and yet…”