Enchantress (The Evermen Saga, Book One)

by James Maxwell

  Ella smiled broadly, just for him.

  ~

  IT was the first time the three of them had been together in what felt like an age. As they sat under the shade of a centurion tree, Ella realised it was probably the last time she would sit like this, a student of the Academy taking ease in the Great Court. She felt a strange feeling of sadness overcome her.

  "I can’t believe they let you get away!" Amber was saying. She sat close to Miro, their legs touching. He didn’t move away.

  "I can be pretty persuasive when I need to be." He grinned. There was no mention of Amber’s wedding.

  They shared each other’s company for the entire afternoon. Drinking honeywine. Laughing together. It was the happiest day of Ella’s life.

  The winter sun started to drift down towards the horizon, and as the day grew dim, the talk turned dark. It was on everyone’s mind.

  The war.

  The Emperor had acted with unbelievable speed, surprising everyone. Miro said High Lord Legasa had predicted it. In waiting, they had lost the initiative.

  The combined forces of Raj Tingara and Raj Torakon had occupied the Azure Plains. It was coming to be called the Black Army. Rumours about its nature were in abundance. They said it was devoid of the usual imperial pomp, that the legionnaires had doffed their purple for black, and that the Toraks in the army also wore black, in a new display of unity and force.

  They marched under a new standard, a white sun on a black background. The sun was the symbol of the Evermen, and people wondered what the Primate thought of the use of the holy symbol, and waited for the leader of the Assembly of Templars to speak out against this growing evil.

  The builders set up defences on the plains, looking up at the Ring Forts. They assembled great bastions: spiked barricades and impossibly tall watchtowers, reinforced with lore. They constructed fearsome war machines: mobile towers, catapults and ballistae. They dug tunnels and trenches, and every day the Toraks could be seen assessing the fortresses above them, analysing their weaknesses, looking for where they could exploit any flaws in the matrices.

  The imperial legion numbered in the ten of thousands, the strongest specimens in a race known for its strength, equipped with swords and spears, shields and heavy armour — much of it enchanted.

  Greedily taking the Emperor’s money, the artificers of Loua Louna supplied the legion with their most vicious devices: prismatic orbs, mortars and runebombs. Dirigibles floated above the Azure Plains, ready to rain death down on any enemy.

  Then there were the regular soldiers, armed with a wide range of weapons, from the rare enchanted blades hoarded by the generals to the meanest club. In their teeming numbers, like ants buzzing on the plains, the only thing they had uniting them were their black tabards.

  With their fortresses firmly sealed, the Halrana occupants of the Ring Forts — Manrith, Penton, Ramrar, Charing and Sark — gazed grimly down at their doom, feeling terribly thin in numbers and exposed up on the heights.

  "I can’t believe they killed poor Lord Devon like that," Amber said.

  "Did anyone escape?" Ella asked Miro.

  Miro took a breath. "They burned the Alturan market house to the ground. Killed everyone inside — soldiers, merchants, women and children. I met many of those people. They were kind people, just bystanders really. That could have been me."

  "It’s so awful," said Amber.

  "Apparently the Emperor gave Lord Devon a written ultimatum — give up the Alturan Lexicon, or it would be war. The High Lord was given the same message, shortly after we returned from Tingara. They didn’t even wait for High Lord Tessolar’s response before they killed Lord Devon and sent his head back to Sarostar."

  Ella shuddered. "Well at least we have the Ring Forts," she said.

  "With Prince Leopold leading our forces though."

  Ella could tell Miro wasn’t impressed. "Prince Leopold?"

  "It was to be Lord Devon’s son, Rorelan, but he hasn’t been himself since the death of his father. There are few lords with both the youth and the political connections to lead our forces. With Rorelan out of the picture, that means Prince Leopold, High Lord Tessolar’s nephew."

  "Can he command?" Ella asked.

  "The bladesingers say he’s intelligent, but they’re just not sure about his judgement. He is perhaps trying too hard to prove himself."

  "To who?"

  Miro shrugged. "To his uncle? To people like you and me?"

  "Miro, what’s the training like?" Amber asked.

  "Hard," Miro said flatly.

  He looked into the distance. He was growing up so fast that Ella felt she was losing the brother she knew. He seemed like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  "It will soon get difficult for you both here," Miro said. "We’ll need a constant supply of weapons and armour. They’ll work you both hard. Lord Marshal Devon was clever. He knew this war was coming, and stockpiled essence illegally, without the knowledge of either the Emperor or the Primate. But it will be a grim fight, most likely decided by the actions of the undeclared houses."

  At the mention of essence, Ella fingered the crystal bottle she had been given. Her own essence, to do with as she wanted! She could walk into the Poloplats right now and exchange the tiny amount of liquid she held in her hand for any single product in sight. Not that she would ever do that of course. Still, holding such wealth in her hand was a heady feeling.

  "I heard some of the townsfolk say it’s just bluster, that the Emperor doesn’t want an all-out war with the houses," Amber said. "That if we all joined against him we would be more than a match for him, so why would he want war?"

  "That’s what they say, yes." He regarded the two girls gravely. "But they’re wrong. I don’t know why, but the Emperor wants war, he’s actively pushing for it. Politically, it makes no sense. If anything, the last war did nothing for the Emperor’s cause. The High Lord believes many of the houses will stand together."

  "What of the Primate? Who is he siding with?"

  High Lord Tessolar says the Primate is angry with the Emperor, that the Emperor is mocking the Evermen and their legacy by warmongering. The Primate is praying to the Evermen to help him choose a course of action. Likely he will cut off the Emperor’s essence — perhaps the quickest and cleanest way to end the war. I pray to the Lord of the Sky that he does." Miro’s face grew determined. "But if the war continues, I’m ready to fight."

  "As am I," Amber said with determination.

  A voice called our Amber’s name. A figure drew closer: Igor Samson.

  "Amber, there you are," he said. "Ella," he nodded, "and Miro, isn’t it?"

  "Igor," the siblings said in greeting. It felt strange to use the master’s first name, but Ella supposed she needed to become used to it.

  "Amber, my dear, it is growing late. I wanted to show you that conjugated matrix for steel strength."

  "Yes, Igor, just a moment and I’ll say goodbye," Amber said.

  Master Samson walked away to give her privacy, taking out a notebook and flicking through the pages.

  "I have to go now. I’m sure everything will be fine. Ella, take care will you?" Amber gave Ella a tight hug. "And Miro," she looked back at Igor Samson. He seemed busy with his notes. She quickly gave Miro a soft kiss on the cheek. "Please be safe?"

  Then she was gone.

  Ella and Miro sat in silence for a moment. Ella only now realised how much she had missed her brother.

  "I… I just wanted to say thank you, for coming here today. It can’t have been easy."

  "No, it wasn’t. Given the circumstances though, they permitted me to leave, to see you."

  "Circumstances?"

  "My only sister’s graduation!" he smiled. Then his smile fell. Ella knew him, she knew there was more. "Ella, they’re sending us all to the front, even those who haven’t finished their training, like me. I’m to finish my training in the field."

  "The front? What do you mean?"

  "The Ring Forts. Th
e Emperor is going to strike at any moment, and when he does it’s going to be with all his strength. The Halrana High Lord has finally convinced High Lord Tessolar to send every man we have to the Ring Forts."

  "No…"

  "Listen to me. You be careful, do you hear me? The Skylord only knows what’s going to come of all this. It could get bad. War does strange things to people’s minds, and it’s not only in the battlefield. With most of the soldiers gone, bad people will test the High Lord’s strength, here in Altura, in Sarostar."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I don’t know. Looting stores, theft, hunting for food. A pretty young girl like you, alone on the edge of town." He grimaced. "I don’t like thinking about it."

  Ella smiled. "Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself."

  He looked at her, angry. "You think this is a game? How? How can you take care of yourself?" He tensed, the muscles in his arms rippling. "Just try to stop me. Go on, show me."

  Miro lunged at her and grabbed at her arm. Ella murmured a short syllable as his hand touched her long-sleeved dress.

  Bright sparks sprayed out where Miro’s hand made contact. "Ahh!" Miro cried, pulling back and wringing his hand. "Lord of the Sky, that hurts!"

  Ella smiled again. "I told you."

  "A real silk enchantress’s dress. I should have known." He shook his head. "Just be careful."

  "You’re the one who needs to be careful. How can I stay here, safe in Sarostar, while you fight for your life?"

  "You stay, because you’re what we’re fighting to protect."

  "Just come back alive."

  "I’ll do my best. I assure you of that."

  Some time later, he left her.

  19

  Our final gift to you is your soul. While your flesh is corporal, your soul is eternal. It was here before your body came into being, and you will live when your bones are dust. The soul is for you alone. It is not for the creatures of the forest. It is not for the fishes of the sea. It is not for the people of the duns.

  — The Evermen Cycles, 15-43

  IT was as if he was waiting for her, standing by the side of the river, skipping stones across its smooth surface.

  Ella was taking one of her regular walks by the waterfront. It grew dark early now. Few other people were about, most seeking the warmth of their homes, trying to keep the winter chill at bay.

  This was an especially quiet place, where spindle trees lined the riverbank and an entire section of the land had been devoted to parks and gardens. Across the Sarsen Ella could see the lights of the Woltenplats, the lively arts district, and occasionally she could hear the sounds of tinkling Alturan music wafting over the water.

  It had been a season of occasions and celebrations. Ella had been surprised to receive several invitations to dances and parties. Some of the young men had been very forward. It seemed each thought she had spurned the offers of his fellows because she was waiting for him.

  Ella recognised him immediately by his red hair. She thought to surprise him but he knew she was there, turning as she approached, a broad, welcoming smile on his face.

  She was still angry with him for leaving her so suddenly that day. One moment he had been there — they had shared something, she wasn’t sure what, but she was sure there was a connection — the next moment he was gone.

  "It’s good to see you in something other than green," Killian said with a grin.

  Ella looked self-consciously down at herself. With the tiniest amount of her essence, she’d made and sold several simple enchanted pieces, earning enough so she could finally buy some new clothes.

  It was only when she had new dresses that she realised how poorly her old Academy gown fit her. It had been so tight around her breasts and hips that she couldn’t believe Miro had allowed her to be seen in public wearing such a thing.

  Tonight she wore blue with a hem of yellow, a simple but elegant dress that fit her figure, almost too revealingly, she’d thought. The seamstress had assured her it was the latest fashion and that men would be falling over themselves to pay court to her. Ella wasn’t sure about that, but it did set off her eyes nicely.

  "You look lovely," Killian said.

  "Umm… Thanks."

  "I hear you graduated from the Academy. Congratulations. What are your plans now?"

  He was so direct, so confident — so different from the young men she knew. Ella wanted to ask him where he had disappeared to, but she didn’t want to break the mood.

  The pair stood side by side, looking over the river at the Woltenplats.

  "I don’t know,” Ella said. “With the war, I suppose I’ll help out, enchanting shields and the like."

  "The most gifted young enchantress, working on shields? Surely there will be more exciting work out there for one such as you?"

  Ella wasn’t sure if Killian was mocking her. She looked over at him but his expression was earnest, his eyes sincere.

  "I guess I’ll work on what’s needed most."

  "Is that all you do, work?"

  Ella had a flippant response prepared, but she faltered. "I suppose it is." She shrugged. "What else is there?"

  Killian inclined his head. "Walk with me. Let’s find out."

  ~

  THEY crossed the Singer’s Bridge, a thin arch of stones leading from the area just north of the parks and over the river. Ella found herself side by side with Killian, pressed close to him as they made their way across the narrow bridge. She was uncomfortably aware of his presence. The heat from his body. The smell of him.

  "It was terrible, what happened at the palace," he said.

  Ella felt relieved he was the one bringing it up.

  "It was. What happened?"

  Killian thought for a moment. "I think that man was some kind of message from the Emperor. Quite a grim message, I must say. It was good to see how well-protected the Crystal Palace was, did you see how many soldiers came out? A small army!"

  "Umm… Yes," Ella said. It wasn’t the conversation she’d been expecting.

  "I suppose they have to protect the palace. Is it just the High Lord that lives there?"

  "Well, the High Lord, his staff, and his closest advisers live there with their families. It really is huge. The High Enchantress has some of her most powerful artefacts in the palace. I suppose it’s better protected than the Green Tower. She spends a lot of time there, when she’s not administering the Academy. It’s where she has her personal quarters too."

  "Really? You’ve met her, haven’t you?"

  "How do you know that?"

  Killian looked at her quizzically. "You’re an enchantress. I just assumed you would have."

  "Oh. I’m sorry," she said. "Yes, I’ve met her. She’s… strong. She helped me with something. I wouldn’t have graduated without her."

  "What did she help you with?"

  Ella didn’t know why, but she found herself telling Killian everything. About Talwin. About the wracking. About Miro and Amber.

  They stood at the apex of the Singer’s Bridge, their heads close together. Ella spoke softly, but Killian never once asked her to repeat herself, or interrupted her.

  When her throat caught at a difficult moment, he gave her a cloth, stitched with a small ‘K’ in the corner. Ella dabbed at her eyes.

  "Your brother will be fine. It sounds to me like the imperials should be the ones afraid."

  "I hope you’re right."

  Killian gestured to the other side of the river, in the direction they were headed. The multi-hued lights of the Woltenplats winked suggestively.

  "They say in times of trouble, when people are afraid, they come together. Come now, a little wine and company is good for the soul, what do you say?"

  Ella smiled, and he took her by the hand then. Killian’s hand was much larger, dry and warm, and enveloped hers completely. Ella felt safe in his company.

  They laughed as they ran recklessly down the far side of the Singer’s Bridge.

  ~


  "NO, this one!" Ella laughed.

  "How about this one?"

  "No, I want to go to this one!"

  Killian laughed. "We will have it your way then. For tonight’s entertainment, venue number five is…" He paused dramatically. "The Prey Turned Hunter!"

  "I love the name." Ella laughed as they entered their fifth tavern for the night. They had made it a game, drinking a different drink at each tavern as they walked south along the river, until they found what Killian laughingly called "the perfect tavern".

  More of a music hall than an eating establishment, the entrance of The Prey Turned Hunter bore a beautifully drawn sign of a deer stalking a terrified man. The expression on the hunter’s face was priceless.

  A group of five musicians played together on a raised stage. Three played the traditional Alturan metal-keyed instruments, the largest as tall as the man who played it, the smallest barely two feet high, while the other two tapped chimes and drums. Ella had never seen so many musicians play in unison — it made the sound much fuller, more raucous. She found herself tapping along without even meaning to.

  Some young women were dancing, their skirts swirling around their legs. There were a far greater number of women than men on the dance floor. Not that the hall was empty of men — far from it. They sat against the walls, smiling and nodding along to the chiming music, barely taking their eyes of the girls.

  It was a casual place, where drinks were ordered at the bar. Ella thought it was her favourite yet.

  "What will it be this time?" Killian said.

  "I don’t know. I don’t know any of these drinks, really. You choose."

  "How about… have you tried coulna?"

  "I’ve got no idea what that is." She smiled up at him.

  "Two coulnas it is then." He smiled back.

  Ella stood close by Killian as he ordered the drink. A warm feeling was coming over her. She still held his hand, and, leaning, she snuggled into his body. He looked over at her and smiled.