There was a war getting ready to happen and it seemed he was in charge of preparing the city for any possible attacks.
For over a month he made himself known to the soldiers in Tyrne, and they in turn made themselves as ready as they could for the rage of their new commander.
His anger was not as great as they believed. He was merely loud and more than ready to be louder. He bellowed out of necessity. He leveled orders and he watched with hard eyes to make certain that the men under his command met his demands. From the highest-ranking officers to the greenest recruits, he made himself seen and known.
There were walls around the Summer City that needed reinforcement and there were watchtowers that had fallen into disrepair that needed to be mended. The structures were solid enough, but the long years of peace had led to a lack of readiness. Buildings that should have housed guards were instead storing supplies and in one case – he would eventually track down the culprits responsible by all the gods – housing a brothel.
Soldiers who had grown relaxed and soft were soon put to work at fixing those problems, and more, and woe to the foolish that suggested that workmen might be better equipped to handle the matter.
The City Guard were drafted to handle more work than they were used to, and while there were a few protests, they did not last long.
At first a few men tried to desert. Merros Dulver put an end to that quickly enough. Had they run in combat they’d have been killed. Instead of death they were given options after meeting with the General. Most chose one of the less extreme punishments he offered, especially after the first would-be deserter attempted to call his bluff of being hanged. It seemed that the new commander of the Imperial Army did not believe in bluffing.
While the people of the Taalor Valley made their ways home and prepared for what was coming, Merros Dulver did the same. A few claimed he did all that he did out of fear of the Sa’ba Taalor. A small number of soldiers, who’d known him from before his meteoric rise to power, believed he did what he did out of grief for the loss of a man who was very nearly a brother to him.
Most just did the best they could to follow orders and stay well out of his way. In the long run, they were the wisest of the lot.
The body of Emperor Pathra Krous was presented before the royal family of Fellein and from there he was carried to the wagon waiting to take his mortal remains to the waiting barge on the Freeholdt River. The royal family had a very large crypt and he would be buried with the rest of his family in Canhoon despite his love of Tyrne and the Summer Palace. Some laws cannot be changed on a whim.
The First Advisor to the Emperor and the legendary sorcerer Desh Krohan walked beside the casket carrying the body the entire way to the river, keeping pace. He had been there for the birth of Pathra Krous and he said his farewells to a man he’d called his friend on more than one occasion. From the river, the Sisters would stay with the Emperor’s body until he was placed within the tomb and they would seal the great building to ensure no one foolhardy or greedy enough to try for the alleged riches within the tomb would succeed. Pella, Goriah and Tataya were his most trusted allies and he was going to be far too busy seeing to the ascension of the next ruler of the Fellein Empire to consider making the trip himself.
The women stood before him, their heads lowered and their cloaks in place. The air was passably warm, but along the river and heading toward the proper seat of the Empire, it would get colder. Spring was fully upon the land but the cold winds from the north and from the Blasted Lands weren’t quite done with the area yet. Desh knew that better than most.
“Be safe and be alert.” He made a point to look at each of them. They nodded their heads. “This is not a good time for any of us but now in particular there are plenty who would see me dead and gladly eliminate the three of you in the process of trying help me reach that state of being.”
Krohan looked at the elaborate coffin one last time and touched the wood, muttering unheard words in the process. The body would remain unmolested. Of that he was absolutely certain.
Without waiting, he turned and started the long walk back to the palace. The hood covering his face kept anyone from seeing the worried expression he wore. Most would have backed away in fear if they could have caught a glimpse of his anger.
After a dozen paces, Tega met with him. Tega was young and blonde and had caught a few eyes, despite the fact that she dressed in simple enough clothes. The blossom of youth was still with her and that made a difference, he supposed, though he had not been young in a very long time.
“Are you well, Desh?”
He looked at the girl and managed a smile. “I’m horrid. My back hurts, my head hurts and in an hour’s time I’ll be having a meal with over half of the royal families in Fellein. It would be all of them if the rest were done traveling here.”
“Oh.” She looked down at the ground.
“Calm down, Tega. I’m not the least bit angry. I’m just being truthful. And even if I were angry, it wouldn’t be you who had to face my wrath. You’ve done nothing you shouldn’t have.”
That made the poor girl breathe a little easier. He wished her relaxed state would last longer.
“You called for me, Desh?”
For the first two years they’d known each other she had called him Master Krohan, not because it was the title he preferred, but because he wanted her to know her place as his apprentice. Reflecting on the practices he had seen some of the sorcerers use on their apprentices, he considered himself positively mild in comparison. These days she was allowed to call him by his first name because she had learned her place very well and because she was an excellent student. She had earned the right to call him by his first name and she had long since proven herself worthy of being his apprentice.
Desh Krohan had only three rules for his apprentices. First, they had to study and practice every day. Second, they were never to perform any of the more complex rituals before getting his approval – he’d lost two apprentices in the past to foolhardy attempts – and lastly, they were to obey him in all of his orders.
In return for that last there was an additional rule for himself: he was never to consider his apprentices as either servants or slaves. They were sorcerers in training and as such needed to be respected. The average wizard tended to have an amazingly long memory.
With those simple rules in place Desh Krohan looked to his apprentice and did something he did not at all want to do. “Tega, I need you to set aside your regular training for the present time. I need you to gather information for me.”
“Of course, Desh.” Her response was automatic. Part of him was glad of that. Part most decidedly was not.
“No. This is not a standard request from me. On this you can deny me without consequence.”
That got her attention. She stopped walking and looked at him with hard eyes. He stopped in return and met her gaze. “What are you thinking, Desh Krohan?”
He looked around them and sighed. There were people aplenty moving in their vicinity. The City Guard was in force, currently, moving people along and preventing too many from blocking the roads away from the funeral procession. There were plenty of hawkers and cutpurses alike in the area, looking to make a few extra coins. Most of them were wise enough to stay well away from the two of them. Desh Krohan’s name was well known and the majority of people wisely avoided getting his attention.
“We will speak more in my chambers. Meet me there if you will. First I need to have a quick discussion with General Dulver.”
His apprentice nodded her head and stepped into the crowd. She was gone from his sight in a matter of seconds, lost in the flow of people.
Desh moved toward the Summer Palace and the people parted for him as if he were a very large rock in a fast moving river. He met the newest commander of the army in the throne room. Currently the room was covered in papers and maps and Dulver was standing next to the largest table in the place and staring at the very maps he had brought back from the Seven Forges h
imself. Like everyone else, he was worried about the attack that might well be coming their way.
Merros Dulver was a good soldier and a better man. He was also currently brooding. Desh liked that about him. Had he been as calm as some of the other generals he would likely have not been the right man for the task before him. Planning a war is not an easy thing to do, after all.
“How are you today, Merros?”
Dark eyes regarded him from under dark brows. Merros Dulver was tanned from his time in the field. His hair had recently been cropped to a length that could easily fit under a snug helmet and he’d started shaving his face clean again. When Desh had first met the man he’d been clean shaven, and when he’d seen him the next time he’d been on the road and traveling for over three months, most of that time in the harsh environment of the Blasted Lands. He’d grown a full beard and his hair had fallen almost to his shoulders. The first time, he also hadn’t looked quite as haunted. The wizard blamed himself for that last part. It was he who had hired the retired military man for an expedition into the Blasted Lands that had ended with absolutely surprising results.
The Sa’ba Taalor were not what he’d expected anyone to encounter in the endless, raging storms that hid away most of the areas to the north of Fellein. An occasional nightmare made flesh, one of the Pra-Moresh or the even more vile creatures that populated the wasteland ,were all he’d honestly thought the men might run across on their journey. All he’d truly hoped for was that sending the Sisters along would give the soldiers and cartographers a chance to map out the pathways to the Seven Forges.
Thinking about that made his stomach twist and his heart ache. His damned expeditions had cost a few lives over the years, but he’d never expected the constant quest for knowledge to result in the death of the Emperor or an encounter with an unknown race.
The Sa’ba Taalor. The people of the Forges. They spoke a variation of the Old Tongue as one of their languages and they had skin the wrong color. Desh Krohan had met people from every part of the known world. He had seen people with a dozen different hues of flesh but never before had he run across a species of people who had gray skin. Had they not been so very vital he might have thought them animated corpses.
Merros responded and brought him out of his reverie. “I’m not having a very good day.” His face made clear that he was being kind.
“You are currently hating your existence and wondering if you can back out of being a general in the Empire’s army. The answer is ‘no’. You cannot back out. I need you and Fellein needs you. More importantly, you are one of the very few men I trust at the present time to ensure the safety of Nachia Krous.”
Nachia Krous, another issue to deal with, and soon. She was next in line to ascend to the throne of the Empire. Several different members of her family felt someone else should be taking that honor.
Merros looked him up and down. A lot of people refused to look him in the eyes and Desh was fine with that. He preferred it, actually, as it meant they were justifiably concerned about the rumors surrounding him. Very few men felt they could look him in the eye without fearing for their lives, their souls and their freedom.
Merros Dulver might have been worried about all of those things, but he still looked the sorcerer in the eye. Desh admired that about him.
“What is it you need from me?” Merros spoke softly. Both of them were grieving, and he knew that. While Desh was walking the Emperor’s body to the river Merros Dulver had been working through the rebuilding of the city’s defenses and adjusting to the death of a good friend. The death of a soldier did not warrant the sort of vast ceremony required in the passing of an Emperor. That didn’t make the impact any less.
Merros Dulver had lost his best friend. Desh Krohan had lost a man he’d helped raise from childhood to become the ruler of the Fellein Empire. He didn’t consider his loss any greater than that of the soldier before him. He knew better.
“I know you are grieving. I’ll do my best to give you time to do so, Merros. I just wanted to remind you that there will be a feast in the Emperor’s honor tonight, and your presence will be required.” The General shook his head and his lips pressed into a thin line. “I know. I can think of a thousand or more things I could do with that time, not the least of which is mourning. But you are the ranking military officer and you have to show your support for the Empress-to-be.”
“Of course. I’ll be there.” The General looked at him for a moment longer and then his eyes crept toward the maps.
“Thank you for that.” He paused a moment longer. “I have to speak with Tega for a bit and then I’m coming back in here to look over those maps with you.”
Merros nodded his head. “Good. I’d like your opinion on a couple of these symbols.” His hand waved at the map halfheartedly. “They are unfamiliar to me.”
That was hardly surprising. The maps had been provided by the Sa’ba Taalor, after all. They were a gift before everything went insanely wrong. Now they, along with every item offered by the people from the Taalor Valley, were suspect. “I’ll be back as soon as I can to discuss the matter.”
Without another word the wizard left the room, using one of the hidden passages to allow him easier access to his chambers. The tunnels were narrow and they were well hidden, but they were not completely a secret. Most of the Krous family knew about them, at least the ones he wanted to let know about them. There were advantages to being as long-lived as he was, especially if one had a good memory for things that were not written down anywhere.
By the time he reached his quarters Tega was already there and pouring herself a mug of the tea Desh brewed almost every day. Three additional cups were already waiting. Two of the Sisters were standing in the room, looking his way with smiles. Flame-haired Tataya stepped up and grabbed the exact mug he’d been eyeing. It seemed she had a gift for taking what he wanted. Not that it mattered. The cups were identical. Pella shook her head, sending dark curls waving, and rolled her eyes and waited until Desh had chosen before grabbing the last of the cups for herself.
“Goriah is well on her way. She’ll make sure Pathra reaches his destination without incident.” Pella took a sip after she was done speaking and closed her eyes, savoring the sweet flavor.
“Just the same, best if everyone thinks all three of you are riding with him. It stops people from getting foolish when they think they might be outnumbered.”
Tega sighed. “Why would anyone want to harm the Emperor’s body?”
Desh answered that one himself. “Because no matter how kind a soul he might have been, Pathra Krous made enemies merely by being the Emperor. For some the act of harming his remains would be revenge and for others it would be a step toward humiliating the Krous family. The next ruler might act foolishly if properly provoked.”
Tega nodded and took a long swallow of her tea.
“Time to get on with this.” Desh sighed and drank from his own cup. The tea was soothing but his nerves still felt tightly wound. “Tega, I would not ask this, but the Sisters are already being sent off to handle tasks of their own. They must be away and even if I could go myself I would need someone here to take my place.” He looked into her eyes and made sure she understood the gravity of his words. “We are in volatile times and I must make sure that I have the very best knowledge available. I’ve already employed the Sooth and done all I can to interpret the signs they have given me, and now I have to ask a very great favor of you.”
“Desh, anything, you know that. I was willing to go to the Seven Forges for you, and I would be there now if things hadn’t gone so wrong.”
When Pathra Krous was killed, General Hradi, the head of the Empire’s Army, had foolishly decided to send troops after the visitors from the Seven Forges. His soldiers were not up to the task. Their fumbling demands had been enough to make a bad situation far worse. While it seemed that the Sa’ba Taalor had actually planned out and assassinated the Emperor, the matter should have been handled with greater tact, and now war was
inevitable. If the gray-skinned people came back any time in the near future, Desh had no doubt they’d do so while leading their armies into combat against the Empire.
“None of that was your fault or mine, Tega. There was nothing to be done for it. But now, we must do all we can to either prevent a war or end it quickly, and that means I need information from the one place I can think of that the Sa’ba Taalor do not go.”
She frowned up at him. “I don’t understand.”
Desh nodded and looked toward the Blasted Lands as if the palace wall were a window and he might see what was out there. “I know. Some secrets I keep closely and others I simply never share. In this case the knowledge has been kept close to heart because there is no need to give away our possible weapons and, as I have said to you many times, knowledge is as powerful as any sword.”
He put an arm across her shoulders and led her to the window looking out over the city. The Sisters moved with them, silent and careful not to be seen from the window. “There is a place in the Blasted Lands that the Sa’ba Taalor will not visit. Their gods have forbidden them to go there, and for that reason we must go there ourselves. We must know what is there and what their deities want to keep from them.”
“Why?” Tega was a brilliant disciple, but sometimes the most obvious things avoided her, while she sought the answers to the complicated mysteries of the universe.
“Whatever is there is something that is hidden. More importantly, it is something being hidden from our enemies. We must know what it is because it might be a useful weapon against them.”
“What is this place?”
Desh looked away from her for a moment and then looked to the Sisters. “It’s called ‘The Mounds’, by the Sa’ba Taalor. That is honestly all that is known. Anything else I say would be conjecture. The Sisters have been far closer than I have. The Sooth told me that the Mounds are important, but they would not say why.”
Tega closed her eyes and shuddered. She had dealt with the Sooth only once, and that was enough for her. The spirits of the Sooth were often greedy, and they took as much as they could and offered as little as possible in exchange. They could offer glimpses of the future, promises of things that would come to pass, but they always hid those promises under layers and layers of deception and obfuscation.
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