The Servants of the Storm

by Jack Campbell

  “I know, but—"

  “Mari,” Alain said, “have you not had enough adventure for a while?”

  She made a face at him, grateful that her facial muscles didn’t hurt too badly. “I’d say a few days on a Roc flying back to Tiae qualifies as an adventure. Most people would think so, anyway. Can I fly with my arm like this?”

  “The healer says you should be fine.”

  “That figures.” Mari nerved herself, then rolled to a sitting position, wincing. “Ow. I was hoping I wouldn’t be able to move so I’d have an excuse for staying in a bed another day or so.”

  Alain shook his head. “That would mean doing something the easy way, and you always do things the hard way.”

  She gave him an annoyed look. “I never should have told you that about me.”

  “I believe I would have figured it out on my own.”

  “Yeah. Probably.”

  Half a day later, with the Pride putting in toward shore where the huge shapes of two Rocs could be easily seen through far-seers, Mari paused beside Dav’s bunk in the healer’s room, where Asha once again sat by his side. “How are you feeling, Mechanic?”

  “Ready to work,” Dav replied, his voice and smile both weak.

  “You put up a great fight against those legionaries. I’m sorry you got hurt so badly.”

  “It could have been a whole lot worse,” Dav said. “How did you wrestle me down that hatch with only one arm?”

  “I don’t know. A lot of things are kind of hazy, you know?”

  “Yeah. For me, too.” Dav looked at Asha. “We figured it was over. So don’t apologize, Mari. You got us out of there. I’ve been thinking that my ancestor can rest in peace now that the job he began is finally completed.”

  Mari smiled at Dav. “I’ll bet he’s happy that his namesake played such a vital role in getting that job done.”

  “I can’t wait to tell my parents. Hurry up and get your job done, Mari. Get the Great Guilds overthrown. What’s the hold-up?” Dav gave her another frail smile as he tried to sound like a Senior Mechanic berating an Apprentice.

  “I was going to take my time,” Mari said, “but since it’s important to you, I guess I’ll speed things up a bit. I’ll see you back in Tiae. You take care of yourself, Dav.”

  “I don’t think Asha will let me do anything stupid,” Dav said.

  “Anything else stupid,” Asha said in her Mage voice.

  “We never should have taught you Mages humor,” Mari said. “Thank you for all you’ve done as well, Asha. It all may be just an illusion, but you’ve played a big part in changing it for the better.”

  “I have already gained a reward,” Asha said, giving Dav a sidelong glance that made him smile again.

  The forbidding cliffs that edged the southern Sea of Bakre featured a few narrow inlets that were too small for any town or village to take root but were large enough for a pair of Rocs to land and take off again. Mari felt every movement in her aching muscles as the Pride’s boat rowed her and Alain to the gravel beach.

  Alain and Mechanic Deni helped Mari out of the boat, but she still had to grit her teeth when some pressure shot a stab of pain through her left arm. “Hold on.” Mari got out two of the pills that the healer had given her and swallowed them down with a slug from her canteen.

  “Why didn’t you take those earlier?” Deni asked.

  “The healer said they’d help the pain but also make me woozy. I didn’t want you guys to have to strap my limp body to the Roc.” But Mari still needed extra help getting up on Swift, Mage Alera assisting in strapping her to the harness.

  “Swift wants to know if you are hurt,” Alera said.

  “He does?” Mari, lying on the huge bird’s back, reached out her good arm to stroke some of the nearby feathers. “Yeah. Nothing serious. Tell Swift thanks for caring.”

  A few minutes later the two Rocs vaulted into the air. Mari had a dizzy view of the Pride shrinking in size as the Roc climbed, then buried her face in the feathers before her. It was probably just the healer’s pills, but maybe Swift took extra care with his injured rider. Whatever the reason, Mari was able to handle the long flight that day, sleeping for most of it.

  Three days later, they reached Tiaesun.

  Mari caught a quick glimpse of a large encampment of her soldiers outside the city. Why were they there instead of inside Tiaesun where she had left them? The pair of Rocs skimmed over the battered walls, rising slightly to sail over the taller surviving buildings, then banked to fly around the edge of the great plaza. As her Roc circled, Mari saw the banner of Tiae flying above the building where Princess Sien had established her court. But Mari’s banner of the new day was gone. In its place flew a banner of gold that Mari had never seen before.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Rocs circled the plaza twice as people in the open area below scurried to shelter like chicks seeking safety from hawks.

  Mari winced as the Roc landed, the bump jarring her left arm and setting off another jolt of pain. Despite Mage Alera’s help, unstrapping herself was a clumsy process with the full use of only one hand. Alain was already waiting to help her down from Swift by the time Mari was ready.

  Having seen the sort of garbage that had littered the plaza before Tiaesun had been liberated, Mari resisted the urge to kneel and kiss the stones of the pavement. But she smiled while she waved goodbye to the Rocs and their Mages as they rose back into the sky with a thunder of wings and a gale of wind. The smile faded quickly as she looked at the strange new banner flying next to that of Tiae. “Have you ever seen that banner before?”

  Alain shook his head. “Many of your soldiers are outside the city.”

  “I saw. Let’s talk to Sien and find out what’s going on. Sien would not betray us, so there has to be some other explanation.”

  Alain walked beside her as they strode toward the building, Mari frowning as she realized something else. “What happened to the work teams cleaning out and clearing off the streets and this plaza? All I see are people standing around.”

  She went up the stairs, entered the heavy door scarred by years of neglect and vandalism, and found herself in a familiar anteroom. The scene inside was different, though. A string of forlorn-looking visitors sat along one wall as if they had been waiting a long time and expected to wait longer, and a richly dressed man sat behind a desk beside the closed door that led into Sien’s audience room. Mari felt a growing sense of unease as she and Alain walked toward that door.

  The grandly dressed man slid smoothly to block their path. “You desire an audience with Prince Tien?”

  Mari stared at him. “Prince? What prince? We’re here to see Princess Sien.”

  The man shook his head with obviously mock regret. “There is no…princess. Tiae is ruled by Prince Tien, who a week ago returned to his land to assume his rightful position and authority.”

  Mari was still staring in disbelief at the man when he smiled. “You may request an audience with the prince.” He gestured toward the line of despondent visitors. “He is very busy, though. If you wish to see him quickly, a contribution to the maintenance of the court might be wise.”

  “Hold on,” Mari said, wondering if she had heard right. “Did you just demand a bribe as the price for letting us see this Prince Tien?”

  “It is a fee for expenses,” the man repeated. “Those who cannot assist in the upkeep of the court cannot complain if that means their petitions take more time to process.” He smiled again.

  His smile abruptly faded as he looked at Mari. She wondered what her expression looked like at the moment. If it matched her mood, there was little wonder the man looked worried.

  Before he or she could say anything, Alain intervened, using his Mage voice. “We will enter now.”

  The man looked at Alain, swallowed nervously, and tried another smile. “Perhaps I could—"

  “Now,” Alain said, the single word falling like the crack of doom. Alain raised one hand toward the man, who stumble
d back a step, fear springing to life in his eyes.

  “I am c– certain that the prince will see you. Now.”

  He hastily opened the door and stood aside as Mari stalked inside, Alain beside her.

  The back third of the house’s former ballroom had been roped off and was now occupied by a bevy of men and women whose clothing indicated they came from a wide variety of places. One richly dressed woman was wearing the latest style from the northern parts of the Confederation. Near her were some men and women in nice suits that reflected fashions of the Western Alliance, and several others wore grand outfits that could only have come from Syndar. Tables and chairs, many mismatched but all looking comfortable and in good repair, were spaced around the area for the use of the group.

  In front of that group, what was probably the grandest chair left in Tiaesun had been mounted on a low platform draped in green and gold fabric. Seated in that chair was a man in his late twenties who looked as though he had been cast as the prince in a play. He wasn’t so much handsome as he was perfectly turned out: hair styled just so, clothing shouting wealth and power. His body reflected plenty of exercise to keep his shoulders broad; his waist was narrow and his arms brawny. He loosely held the hilt of a naked cavalry saber in one hand, the point resting on the platform in a dramatic display that would have earned angry rebukes from any swordmaster who saw a new recruit mistreating a weapon in that manner.

  Prince Tien vividly brought to Mari’s mind memories of a certain kind of guy she had encountered at times, the sort who had come on to her as if she should be grateful for their attention and eager to hang on their arm where everyone could see. There was some family resemblance to Princess Sien, but it was hard to make out how much beneath the carefully sculpted appearance and expression.

  The wall at the back of the room where Mari and Alain had entered was lined with soldiers of Tiae, but the area around the prince was guarded by soldiers wearing the uniform of one of the Syndari city-states.

  “Your name!” the door warden whispered at Mari. “So I can announce you properly!”

  Mari had thought she disdained the trappings of power, so she was surprised how much the doorman’s failure to recognize her stung. Her unhappiness with herself made her voice even sharper as she replied. “Master Mechanic Mari of Caer Lyn.”

  “And you are?” the man prodded Alain.

  Alain turned his most Magelike face on the doorman, causing that worthy to step back again, shaking visibly. “Mage Alain of Ihris.”

  The man gulped, stood forth, and began to speak loudly. “Master—"

  “Never mind!” Prince Tien called, flipping a dismissive hand at the man. “I could hear. So, the Mechanic has finally deigned to respond to my summons?”

  Mari, not wanting to sound too angry, silently counted to five before answering. “Master Mechanic. Lady Master Mechanic. What summons?”

  “You were ordered to appear before me,” Tien said, frowning majestically at her.

  “I’ve been away. Where is Princess Sien?”

  Tien’s annoyance grew. “There is no ‘princess.’ There was a commoner who claimed to be part of the royal family. I did not bother to learn the name,” he added nonchalantly, punctuating his words with another exaggerated gesture.

  Mari, fearing that harm had befallen Sien, almost exploded at the prince. Fortunately, one of the well-dressed men behind the prince pointed an accusing finger at her before she could speak.

  “We know that your soldiers have given shelter to the pretender. She must be turned over to the crown at once!”

  “Yes!” Tien agreed, nodding vigorously. “At once!”

  “Why,” Alain asked, “does a Prince of Tiae have traces of Syndar in his accent?”

  Tien paused, looking affronted but apparently lost for a reply.

  Another advisor spoke for him. “Many of the prince’s tutors and protectors were from Syndar.”

  “How strange,” Alain said tonelessly, “since all of Princess Sien’s teachers and protectors have been from Tiae.”

  “Do not say that name again!” Tien said loudly, pointing an imperious finger at Alain.

  Alain gazed back at Tien the way most people would gaze at a dead insect.

  “Are you seriously trying to intimidate a Mage?” Mari asked the prince. “Maybe we should talk privately.”

  “About what?” Tien asked, peevish now, one hand twisting the hilt of the saber as he gazed at Mari.

  “I have an agreement with Tiae—"

  “There is no agreement,” Tien interrupted with another indifferent wave. “You, and your followers, are not welcome in Tiae. Tell her,” he ordered another of the foreigners behind him.

  That woman, with a soft smile and very hard eyes, spoke to Mari as if she were a recalcitrant student. “You are to leave Tiae. All of your followers are to leave as well. This must be done immediately. You are to take nothing but the clothes on your backs, and leave to Tiae that which you have illegally and improperly taken from Tiae’s land and Tiae’s people. This particularly applies to everything at the illegal encampment at Pacta Servanda.”

  Mari had listened with growing disbelief. “Leave immediately and leave everything behind? All of our workshops and tools? All of our weapons?”

  “That is correct.”

  “No, that is ridiculous.” Mari looked to the soldiers of Tiae lining the back of the room, finally spotting Colonel Hasna among their number. She knew it would hurt their pride for her to say the truth: that the army of Tiae was too small and too weak to have liberated any of Tiae on its own, and that it existed only because of Mari’s own efforts. She couldn’t let this prince, if he was a prince, goad her into harming her relationship with Tiae.

  “My followers and I have fought alongside Tiae,” Mari said, spacing her words and speaking clearly. “We have been proud to do so. We have passed on to Tiae weapons and armor so that Tiae’s army could once again fight for their country. We have worked together to turn back the Storm—"

  “Storm?” Prince Tien looked around demandingly. “What storm?”

  Mari counted to five again before answering. “I’m talking about the Storm that will destroy all of Dematr if not stopped, a storm of anarchy and violence spawned by the long slavery of the common people to the dominion of the Great Guilds. Tiae has been playing a very important role in the overthrow of the Great Guilds.”

  “Tiae has no interest in war, except in the pursuit of what is Tiae’s,” Prince Tien said. “And Tiae will fight for what it owns by right.”

  “The Great Guilds are already fighting you,” Mari said.

  “The Mechanics Guild has done Tiae no harm,” one of the advisors insisted.

  “How can you say that?” Mari demanded. Her arm was hurting again, and the various aches caused by the long flight from the coast of Bakre were driving the last vestiges of patience from her.

  “It is the truth! The Guild will help Tiae more than you ever have!”

  “You work for the Guild?” Alain asked.

  The advisor held out his hands in protest. “I am not a Mechanic—"

  “That is obvious,” Alain said. “But I read the larger lie in you. How much does the Mechanics Guild pay you?”

  “I– I’m not—"

  “That much?” Alain asked, the lack of feeling in his words giving them more force.

  “I will not have my advisors insulted,” Prince Tien said severely, raising the saber to point it at Alain. “You will do as commanded,” he told Mari.

  “I’m never been all that good at doing as I was commanded,” Mari said, crossing her arms and gazing back at Tien. “I have been trying to do good for Tiae. I don’t know what your game is, or your advis—" She paused, seeing someone she recognized in the well-dressed group. “You! You were a city official in Edinton! Why is a Confederation politician here?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man Mari pointed to said. “I have never met you.”

  “Another one w
ho lies,” Alain said. “A ruler who surrounds himself with those who not only lie but are foolish enough to try to mislead a Mage. Do none of you know what Mages can do?”

  “Is that a threat?” Prince Tien cried, rising from his seat to sweep his saber in a grand curve above his head. “You dare to threaten me and my advisors? Soldiers of Tiae! Take these two! They will be held—" He cast an aggravated glare at two advisors who were whispering frantically to him. “All right!” he hissed in a low voice to them, before speaking loudly to the room again. “Leave the Mage alone, but take the woman until she agrees to abide by my commands!”

  Shocked, Mari heard the soldiers behind her begin to move. She paused, not wanting to draw her weapon on soldiers of Tiae.

  Alain did not hesitate. “If anyone touches her, it will go ill for you.” He was looking directly at Prince Tien with the dead Mage expression that terrified commons. At the same time he raised one hand to his waist, the forefinger and index finger pointed toward Tien.

  Whatever else Tien was, he was enough of a common to be frightened by that look and that gesture.

  But at least one of his advisers was not. “Do not attempt to bluff us, former Mage!” a woman shouted. “Though you show us the face and voice of a Mage, you have done that which is forbidden and lost all real power!”

  Mari had rarely known Alain to become furious, but she felt that now in him even though Alain kept the dead expression of a Mage.

  A chair not far from the woman erupted into flame.

  She stared at it, eyes wide, as everyone else edged away from her.

  “Nothing is real,” Alain said, his voice filling the room. “However, my power is enough to turn this illusion into an inferno. Do you doubt me?”

  The woman shook her head, trembling. “No.”

  “The elders of the Mage Guild do not know how weak their wisdom is, or how strong I am. Do not test me again.” That was clearly aimed at everyone in the room.

  Mari turned, finding herself nearly face to face with Colonel Hasna, who had advanced along with her soldiers at the command of Prince Tien but now stood unmoving, waiting for further orders.