Once A Hero

by Michael A. Stackpole

  "I am not an animal. I cherish all those things that you believe ennoble you as a people. I cling more tightly to personal friendship and loyalty than you do. It is not a peculiarity of Man or a man, because I know had I been taken, Aarundel would be speaking these same words to you. He would even risk your denying him and Marta the child you used to lure him into this trap."

  I opened my hands and arms to take them all in. "So there you have it. I, Neal Roclawzi, Elfward, Knight-Defender of the Empire of Man, refuse your offer. I am bound for a cold, dangerous place to free my friend and his wife. You may take that as a sign of madness. Many of you will. But I'd rather be mad and away from here, than sane and living among a people that could offer such a shameful bargain to block the rescue of one of their own."

  Larissa met me in the chamber I had been given in Woodspire. I was busy stuffing a blanket into saddlebags, so I did not see her at first. When I looked up, I saw her lower lip tremble, then white teeth bit at it to still its quivering.

  I could not meet her gaze. "I want you to know, Larissa, that your brother almost lost out today. I almost chose you over him. Please, do not think my choice, my deciding to leave, means I love you any less." Frustration balled my fists.

  "You had no choice, Neal." Her words came calm and certain, and she did a good job of covering her pain, "I much wanted you to choose me, and I hated myself for that. I love you for the fact that you were strong enough to keep from capitulating to them."

  I shook my head. "Unchecked arrogance cannot be rewarded." I looked at her again and found I could have lost myself in the dark pools of her eyes. "I don't ever want to be apart from you, but I will not sacrifice your brother for our happiness. I'll be back soon, with them in tow."

  "I was thinking that I might accompany you on your quest. They might need a healer. . . ."

  "You may be correct, but so was the Consilliarii. If I were to lead Elves, even one, into Jammaq, whatever happens down there could kindle a war that your council wants to prevent." I grinned wryly and sat down on my cot. "Having just come through a war, I cannot blame them for their caution. By going alone, with no sanction from them, my actions can be denied. Succeed or fail, stay or go, the Consilliarii wins as long as conflict with the Reithrese is not heightened. The Reithrese cannot assign to the Consilliarii blame for anything I do. Best case for the Council is my death in a successful rescue."

  "But that would leave Divisator in the hands of the Reithrese, and they will destroy the empire."

  I shrugged. "True, not the best case for Men, which is why the council and I have our differences."

  Larissa shivered. "I cannot stand the thought of you alone in Jammaq."

  I grinned. "There will be plenty of Reithrese to keep me company."

  "That is not what I meant."

  "Alone he will not be." The Dreel squeezed past Larissa in the doorway, then sat in the middle of the floor. "Together we travel."

  "I travel alone, Shijef. This is my fight."

  The Dreel thumped his chest. "Slave I am, master you are. Lifeblack pools."

  I narrowed my eyes. "Listen to me, Shijef, for master I am. Your master. I'll not be having the Reithrese hunting down the Dreel for sport because you joined me in a mission that fails."

  Shijef flicked both of his paws forward to ward that suggestion off. "With Shijef, fail it will not."

  I snarled. "With Shijef I am not. I expressly forbid you to follow me. That is your master's command!"

  His agate eyes all but shut. "Keep Larissa safe?"

  "Keep her safe. Do that, Shijef, please. That, too, is an order."

  The Dreel bellowed angrily, then growled at me as he stalked out of the room. Larissa looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "He is not happy."

  "That's because he wanted to go along and kill things, not because he wanted to protect me." The second I said it, I knew it was not true. "He will see to your safety."

  "I would rather he saw to yours."

  "You need not worry about me, vitamoresti." I slapped the scabbard on the bed and smiled. "I've got your father sending a message to the Red Tiger requesting the use of the Steel Pack by the Knight-Defender, and I imagine that many Reithrese agents left in Jarudin will mark their departure at my request and relay that information to Jammaq. Takrakor will assume I'll come with an army because only a idiot would travel to Jammaq alone, and that means I'll have the element of surprise on my side."

  "Will you be careful?"

  "As careful as I can." I shrugged and smiled to reassure her. "Don't worry, I will return."

  She shivered. "How can you say that?"

  I winked at her. "Remember, the gods are perverse when playing with us lesser races. What will hurt more, my dying in Jammaq, or my seeing you again knowing that the Consilliarii will never consent to let us be together?"

  "You trust in the gods more than I do, I think."

  "No, in your love I trust, and in this blade," I smiled as I stood and shouldered my saddlebags. "Of the gods I just hope that if they notice me, they find me diverting and let me live just a little longer so I can endure that much more [future.]"

  Chapter 23:

  The Empire Of Dreams

  Spring

  A.R. 499

  The Present

  ***

  IN RETROSPECT, GENA thought, having lost most of their possessions to the fire at Castle Blackoak had been a blessing of sorts. At various times, as she had grown up, her grandfather and grandaunt had both mentioned that the gods were perverse and would do all they could to make life miserable for mere mortals. This had clearly been a case of their meddling, and though Gena did not find traveling inexpensively that much of a burden, it clearly wore on Berengar.

  On the road before the fire Berengar had not been soft or particularly prickly, but there were little rituals of civilization that he liked to observe. Each evening, for example, he had brewed tea and always made an effort to select aromatic woods to burn while his water came to a boil. He was not experimenting to find a new source of pleasure, but clinging to an old pattern of behavior because it helped define who he was.

  Gena knew, from stories and observation, that Men fought hard to carve out strong identities. Elves, with their long lives, were content merely to live, while Men seemed determined to build around themselves some sort of legend that would live on beyond them. Berengar had been no exception to that rule, and while he had his baggage and the trappings of an Aurdon noble, he acted much as she imagined he would have.

  She looked up ahead at where the count rode in front as they neared a small forest. He still sat up in the saddle, but the steel shaft that had straightened his back had softened. He had tied his hair back with a strip torn from the hem of his shirt, and the ends of the cloth flapped in the light breeze like pennants over his right ear. Bare leg showed between the hem of his breeches and the low-cut leather shoes he had won in a game of knucklebones. He moved stiffly, still bruised from their village visit three days before because the local tavernmaster would not pay for song, but did offer them lodging and food if Berengar could best the local champion in a bare-knuckled fight.

  As if he knew she was watching him, he turned slowly in the saddle and looked at her sideways with his still-blacked left eye. The swelling had gone down, and the edges of the bruise had turned a jaundiced yellow, but his eye remained bloodshot and rimmed with purple. "I have been thinking, Gena, that you are a bad influence on me."

  "Me?" Gena feigned surprise and urged Spirit forward with her knees. "How, pray tell, did you reach this conclusion?"

  Berengar half shrugged but stopped as a grimace seized his face. "All this talk and thinking about Neal is what prompted me to fight with that monster back in Elmglen—I think I wanted to impress you with my heroic ability."

  "And you did, my lord." She glanced down at his scabbed knuckles. "I never expected you to get up after he knocked you down the second time, and no one in the village thought you would send him down with a single punch."
>
  The count grinned and brought his right fist curling up ito a short uppercut. "It was a good punch, but only one of many . . . on both sides. I've not been so stiff since I fell down two flights of stairs as a child."

  Gena shrugged. "I offered to fix you."

  "You did, and I refused." He laughed, then cut it off abruptly and hugged his left arm to his ribs. "I thought that I could show how tough I was by letting my body heal naturally, without magick."

  "My lord, even Neal was not that foolish." She smiled at him. "If you wish, when we stop for the night, I could help you with the pain."

  The count paused to consider her offer, then shook his head. "No, I think the worst of it is over, and I think it is good that I let it linger. Traveling hurt and living hand to mouth gives me a perspective I have not had before. Take, for example, the caravan that you and Durriken rescued from the Haladina. When I heard of them and when they arrived in Aurdon, I pitied them. Now, after this, I think I begin to understand them."

  "It is not without good reason, my Lord, that people are often enjoined to consider other perspectives when making a judgment." Gena looked around at the rolling meadows and woodlands. "In Cygestolia there is nothing even close to this sort of open territory. It is difficult for most of my people to imagine anyone wanting to live outside a forest. In fact, I cannot think of but a few Elves who would have accepted the lodgings we did last night."

  "Yes, spending a night sleeping in a sod house was interesting. I think, before arriving at my current state, I would have looked down upon those people. While they were a bit crude in their manners, their hearts were generous, their wisdom sound, and their concern for two travelers rather inspiring." He shook his head. "They even had dreams for the future, of expanding their farm and providing enough for their children and children's children."

  "I think that admirable."

  "As do I."

  "Then why the shake of your head and the beetling of your brow?"

  The count's expression lightened immediately. "Oh, I was not thinking ill of them or their plans. What had me confused was Neal again. When he and the Red Tiger entered Jarudin, the tales say that Neal killed the Reithrese emperor and took the crown."

  "Yes, but he gave it to the Red Tiger."

  "Why?"

  "Why?"

  "He could have had an empire. He could have shaped it in ways that would have made it last for all time. He could have made himself into a hero for Humanity, one that would not have been so easy for us to forget." Puzzlement again knotted Berengar's brow. "I don't understand his choice."

  "Is that because it was a bad choice, or just the choice you would not have made in his place?"

  Berengar chuckled carefully. "I had not separated those questions, and I guess I assumed since his choice was not my choice, it was by definition a bad choice. Had he chosen to keep the empire, I might have been able to trace my lineage back to him, not the Red Tiger. He had his chance at eternal fame and passed it by."

  Gena nodded sympathetically at first, then hesitated. "I do not know Neal's mind, but I wonder if he did not think the Red Tiger would make a better ruler than he would."

  "Perhaps, but to pass up a chance at being able to make your dreams for the future live—and I know he must have had them, every man does—I guess the ability to let that chance go by is what makes him a hero."

  "It may well be that indeed." Gena ducked her head beneath an oak branch as they rode into the forest. "Since you would not have made Neal's choice, what would you have done had you won the crown?"

  "A good question, that."

  "You yourself said every Man has dreams for the future. What are yours?"

  Berengar looked straight ahead and focused distantly. "Had I been in Neal's place, I would have moved swiftly to consolidate the empire and bring it under a strong central rule. The Red Tiger did bring it together, but only because he was the only power in a vacuum. He contented himself in making arrangements with local strongmen instead of imposing his view of the empire from the top down. As a result, it was only ever really a confederation of states, and as you have seen, it has broken apart into the commonwealth within the last century."

  He waved his hands at the surrounding countryside. "Even here in Ispar the instability is palpable—my late, unlamented uncle being just one example of how badly things have gone awry. You are right to condemn his dabbling in forbidden knowledge, but you must understand that when things become so out of control, Men search for ways to gain control. My uncle chose incorrectly, but the need for stability and control cannot be disputed.

  "Stability and control would have been my keys." He turned toward her, and she saw his eyes alight with an inner fire. "In a year I would have brought Barkol, Ludhyna, and Ysk into my empire, and that would have provided me with enough forces to take Kaudia. I would have pushed on through the Haladin Outlands and Quom to destroy Reith."

  "My kin might have objected to so strong a Human presence,"

  "But your people are not stupid. Our war would have been with the Reithrese and, more important, my empire would have rebuilt and structured Human settlements. Your people rode out on the Eldsaga crusade because Men were encroaching on Elven homelands. Under my rule the old borders and remnants of Reithrese political structures would have been swept away. Isn't it ridiculous that we now, after five centuries, still call the imperial capital by the name they gave it? The Red Tiger, while he did free us from the Reithrese, left us culturally enslaved to them forever."

  Gena laughed. "There are Elven cartographers who believe you have stayed with the old names as a courtesy to them."

  "That's an interesting perspective." Berengar shook his head. "Perhaps it comes from being raised in a merchant's house, but I would have organized the empire in a manner that built economic ties between regions and promoted both economic and cultural growth. I would have permitted ethnic and social identities to remain distinct while sublimating nationalism within pride for the empire. Strict laws and swift, sure punishment for violations would guarantee a lawful society that would, in turn, promote harmony and increased economic strength."

  "But once one part of your empire determined that its economic best interest lay in another province or, worse yet, the Elven Holdings, you would have a serious conflict."

  "Not at all. We have ridden for half a day, and aside from the croft we left this morning, we have seen no sign of Human habitation."

  "Aside from this road."

  "True, and were I emperor, there would be many more of them. They would be wide and well built because commerce demands swift and certain transport. Each province would have market centers. With land grants and tax amnesties I could promote immigration to new areas of the empire to create growth. I would have an army that would keep the Haladina in their deserts and put down any internal conflicts. And had I been Neal, your people and I would have had only one conflict."

  Gena raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

  Berengar grinned despite a split lip. "The sylvanesti he loved would have been my empress."

  A thrill shot through her as she read more into his statement than his words contained. She had always seen him as attractive and flirtatious, but Durriken's presence, and then his memory, had seemed to keep them apart. Their current conditions and the attention they demanded had pushed larger issues away and had created a bond between them that could have easily slipped into more than mere friendship.

  Gena immediately began to poke and probe her own feelings toward Berengar, subjecting them to intellectual scrutiny in hopes of killing them. Merely considering her attraction to Berengar seemed to be a betrayal of Durriken, both on her part and by Berengar. She resented that intrusion on her, yet she knew that mourning a dead man forever would only destroy her. She had seen that before and resolved she would not fall into the trap.

  Her attraction to Berengar did not wither away under examination, but neither did it blossom into the all-consuming passion of vitamor. It remained a seed, not yet spro
uted, content in dormancy. Gena realized that their current situation was too odd and strange to provide a solid foundation for a relationship, and she dared not risk her friendship with Berengar by surrendering to his charms in such an atypical setting.

  She recovered herself and smiled carefully. "That would have created quite a conflict with my people, my Lord. You must recall that five centuries have passed since Neal and the syivanesti were in love. While my culture now permits what it denied them, it does not encourage it and barely tolerates it."

  Berengar nodded. "This I understand, though I can dream of your Elders finding my arguments persuasive."

  "Indeed, they might well have." She laughed and winked at him. "But if you have dreams of being persuasive, I would focus them away from Elves at this point."

  He frowned for a second, then let himself laugh. "And upon what would you focus them?"

  "Hardelwick, the emperor." Gena narrowed her eyes. "After all, he must be convinced that you actually are who you say you are, and to entrust Cleaveheart to you. They way we look now, you will have to be more persuasive than even Neal could ever have dreamt of being."

  Chapter 24:

  The Emperor Of Nightmares

  Autumn

  Reign of the Red Tiger Year 3

  Imperium Year 1

  Five Centuries Ago

  My Thirty-seventh Year

  ***

  I NEVER FELT so alone as when I rode from Cygestolia to the first circus translatio. I had said all my good-byes at Woodspire and at the base of the tree had been given five horses in addition to Blackstar. Three were laden with supplies, and all had been outfitted with the same sort of silver chains I wore. I was told by the groom who gave the horses to me that they were meant as a gift to the Man-emperor in Jarudin, but I knew that was a fiction that would make it easy for Aarundel's family to deny ever having given me any aid in my quest.

  No one accompanied me to the grove. No soldiers along the way showed themselves. Shijef, whom I expected to wheedle and whine until I consented to his going with me, stayed away. Riding out from the city inhabited by virtually immortal beings, one of whom I loved with my whole heart and soul, I felt incredibly small and insignificant. That was how they saw me, and how the Reithrese saw me, and part of me knew they were right.