by Kal Spriggs
Simonel's eyes narrowed a bit. He couldn't say that he entirely disagreed. Most of his people were fiercely independent, to the point that many of them would refuse help right up until it was too late. Those of his people who had remained in Dybar Rapids and Crimson Hills were stubborn beyond even that level. Even so, they would not refuse the orders of their King. If he ordered them to withdraw to the Green Heart, it would make protecting them that much easier.
On the other hand, he thought, it would leave no one in those areas to see what is taking place. That was a darker fear, one which he would rather not dwell upon. If these maddened beasts were an attempt to drive his people out, then it would give any of Listania’s fellow conspirators a place to gather unobserved.
He hoped that she didn’t have many more allies among his people, yet in his heart he knew that many of his people would be tempted by the spirit of Andoral Elhonas. How many had sworn themselves onto that path remained to be seen, but as he gazed around at the council, he couldn’t help but wonder if betrayal lurked in the minds of some of those gathered today… and if the missing seats around the Founding were a product of the council members lack of interest or of some darker motivation.
“No,” Simonel said as he saw that L’Aurel had sensed his hesitation. “We will not retreat from such threats.” Was it his imagination or did he sense some element of satisfaction in her eyes? As the other council members accepted his statement, he wondered if he had made the right decision.
Yet as he felt Amelia rest her hand on his arm, he felt his confidence return. They would succeed. With her at his side, he would not fail his people.
***
L’Aurel
The Grotto
Ravin’s Day, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering
“The young fool has led his loyal hunters out,” L’Aurel said softly to the group gathered in the dark grotto. Most of them wore hoods, in part to conceal their identities and in part against the terrible chill of the place. Most of the Eastwood remained warm, protected from the harsh winter by spirits, enchantments, and wizardry. Here, though, the pervasive cold mirrored the bitterest of winters. L’Aurel could see her breath fog the air and the cold air bit the inside of her nose.
That harsh cold dismayed some of the less resolute of their conspirators, she knew. Yet that didn't bother her. Those weak enough to be driven away by mere cold would be of little use to her master... and identifying such weaknesses ahead of time was one of her tasks, just as Listania's task had been to weaken the Dzmoba Suliskvet.
Speaking of which, she thought as one of the hooded figures stepped forward, accompanied by a second. L’Aurel felt no surprise as Listania put her hood back, though she did give a hiss of shock as her eyes made out the wizard's staff of the man who accompanied her... and his pale face beneath his hood. He is not one of our people, she thought with a mix of disgust and derision.
“You have done well, L’Aurel,” Listania said. “I have returned from the halls of Armak Zhul.”
There were murmurs of shock among the assembled conspirators. L’Aurel felt little of that herself. While being called to Armak Zhul could be an honor, one could also be called before Andoral Elhonas to explain their failings... and only the fact that Listania still breathed meant anything of note.
“Who is this naklebi?” L’Aurel demanded, pointing at the wizard.
To her surprise, it was the wizard who spoke. He threw back his hood and stepped forward, addressing her in the language of the People. “I am Xavien Tarken, Herald of Andoral Elhonas, the Dark Prince.”
Where before there had been mutters of shock and surprise, now there there was absolute silence. L’Aurel felt her eyes grow wide, “You are his Herald?” She couldn't help a note of incredulity. Bad enough, in her mind, that their master had chosen one of the Viani as his Consort, but a naklebi as his Herald? Her gaze locked on Listania and she couldn't help but glare at the other woman. Her failings must have pushed their master into choice of the lesser humans, there could be no other excuse.
Xavien seemed to sense her disgust and anger, the twisted smile he gave showed his amusement... and hinted at the cost she would pay if she dared to challenge him.
Not now, L’Aurel thought coldly. She wouldn't fight a wizard when he clearly was ready for it. No, she thought, after we have done as he bid, when his guard is down... then I would strike him down and make my claim for his position at he left hand of our master. From there it would be an easy matter to replace the weak Viani princess as her master's Consort.
Later there would be time to plan it in more detail, for now, there was the matter of their master's orders.
“Andoral Elhnonas has given me authority here,” Xavien said. “We will strike a blow to shatter the Five Duchies, to put an end to their pathetic civilization once and for all.”
L’Aurel waved a hand at that, she didn't care about the lesser races of man, they lived lives like mayflies and at their best, they gained only the understanding and skills of a child. “We can wipe them away at our leisure,” L’Aurel said in response.
Xavien's eyes narrowed, “The time has come, Samsakarhktol Aurela, to do just that. Then we can focus upon our true enemies.”
L’Aurel 's eyes went wide as the wizard spoke her full name, which she herself had not spoken in nearly ten thousand cycles. He can’t know that, she thought with shock, no one knows that name. She had killed everyone who knew her by that name. She felt a bit of a shiver as she realized that he truly did speak for their master.
Xavien smiled at the response. “Now then, I have little time, so I will explain quickly–”
“You have less time than you think,” a woman's voice interrupted.
L’Aurel felt her shock renewed as someone dared interrupt them. She spun and her shock redoubled as she saw the short, blonde-haired woman who stood in the entranceway. Behind L’Aurel, she heard the gathered conspirators hiss in shock and confusion... and she heard them name the woman. “The Enchantress, she's here!” L’Aurel grit her teeth at that, for while she hated the woman who had held that position, at least she had been of the People, traitor though she was to their cause.
The Herald, though, had a different response. “Amelia?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes, brother,” Amelia said. “I think it is time we had a meeting of our own.”
***
Chapter VI
Samsakarhktol Aurela
The Grotto
Ravin’s Day, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering
The short woman's blue eyes seemed to glow unnaturally in the darkness of the grotto. L’Aurel started to edge to the side. It seemed that the woman had been stupid enough to come alone and if that was the case, well, L’Aurel wouldn't hesitate to kill her.
“How...” Xavien's eyes narrowed, “You should be dead, unless something else wears your body.” L’Aurel could hear the confusion in the Herald's voice. She called him brother, L’Aurel thought, what connection can there be between these two? She had not bothered to learn the woman's story, beyond the fact that she had been used in a ritual to break the Veil. Their master's Herald might have been the one behind that... had he used his own blood? The deliciousness of the irony amused her, even as she continued to circle to the side. A few more slow steps and she would be in position...
The Enchantress's eyes flicked over towards her and that was all it took.
A powerful presence slammed into her mind. L’Aurel had never before felt such mental strength, not in ten thousand cycles, not even from her master, the one time she had met him.
L’Aurel's mental defenses crumbled before that onslaught.
It should not have been possible for that power to avoid crushing her mind, wiping out her consciousness like an ocean wave extinguishing a candle... yet as soon as it had bypassed her mental defenses, it moved through her mind with a gentleness. L’Aurel found herself frozen, unable to move, all that was left to her was the ability to watch and listen.
All of it happened in an ins
tant, in the time it took the Enchantress to flick her eyes towards her and away.
Yet that was enough time for the Herald to attack.
A twisting network of green energy lanced out, tendrils of it danced through the air Xavien unleashed destruction upon his foe.
The Enchantress didn't even move, yet suddenly the room blazed in light as a looming darkness intercepted that attack. She cocked her head at the Herald, “Very impressive, brother. Clearly you've learned much... but I've learned a few things too.”
Xavien stepped back, the look of shock on his face would have amused L’Aurel if she wasn't helpless and dependent upon his victory. She felt a worm of panic as she realized just how helpless she was. If the Enchantress struck them all, then the King's allies could take them captive, put them to trial...
We are helpless, she thought in horror.
***
Enchantress Amelia Tarken, Queen of the Eastwood
“You...” Xavien said, “You are the new Enchantress!”
“I am,” Amelia said. “And as you can see, I came prepared. I'm not here to fight, I'm here to talk.” She had been able to read the intent behind L’Aurel's words easily enough, just as she had pulled the location of this meeting out of her mind. She had not expected to find Xavien here... but that didn't change her intent.
“We are past the point of talking, sister,” Xavien said the word like a curse and Amelia couldn't help but flinch a bit at the venom in his voice.
Yet her back went up straight, “I'm not the meek girl I once was, Xavien.” She put every bit of her confidence in those words and she saw uncertainty in his eyes. “I've mastered my mental abilities... the ones we inherited from our mother.” She saw his eyes go wide at that... and nodded as he confirmed her guess. “As much as I would like to continue this conversation... I'm not here to speak with you.”
She ranged her gaze across the assembled conspirators. There were more of them than she had hoped and despite their disguises, she recognized all too many of them from her time living among them. Not all of them, she hoped, were beyond saving.
“You have sworn yourselves to Andoral Elhonas,” she said in a clear, high voice. “You have broken your oaths, the will of your people. You have betrayed your friends and families for a second time.”
“We have retained our allegiance to our true Master!” Listania interrupted. “And the only oaths we have broken are those forced upon us by the Viani!”
Amelia met the woman's eyes and to her credit, Listania didn't flinch. “True enough, they were forced upon you,” Amelia said. “You were faced with extermination or exile, because you started a war and then lost it.” She put every bit of venom in her tone and this time Listania did flinch.
“But not all of you here were part of that war,” Amelia said. “Many of you were born here, in the Eastwood, long after that war ended.” She swept her gaze around the cavern and many of those gathered lowered their eyes. “You had no part in this fight... not until the words of Listania and others told you of what you were owed... what you had nearly taken.”
“What is rightfully ours!” One of them shouted from the back.
“What is yours?” Amelia asked. “Dominion over mankind? The extermination of those who disagree with you?” She could sense the crowd cringing from her tone of derision. “Do you need servants to fawn over you and slaves to give you what you want?”
“They have what we should have!” Another voice shouted.
“Envy, jealousy...” Amelia shook her head, “You are so petulant.” She put every bit of disdain in her voice. “You have all of your tremendously long lives to earn what you want, but instead you want to take what others have worked for.” She looked back at Listania, “That is what this is about.”
Listania pursed her lips, “You are nothing more than a child! You cannot possibly comprehend–”
“I have the memories and knowledge of the old Enchantress... I know exactly what you did and why,” Amelia said, “and unlike her, I was not a part of it, so I can speak without guilt. You betrayed and murdered your families and friends, killed those who bore you no ill will... all out of spite and jealousy, all because they had what you wanted and you could not bear to live within the shadow of their happiness.”
“It wasn't like that!” Listania shouted. “You have no idea what that time was like! Maghali Mede changed us, made us almost immortal, and forced us to live in his vision of the world... only Andoral Elhonas saw things clearly. Only he saw our potential, what we could become.”
“And what have you become?” Amelia asked softly. “Again, you conspire in the dark, you plot to kill your family and friends... you plan the murder and enslavement of innocents, and for what? That others will be as miserable as you? To force those you consider inferior to look upon you as gods?”
“We should be gods!” Listania snapped. “We are no longer human, we are above the rest of them, and they should suffer on our kindness and beg for our mercy!”
Amelia nodded as the men and woman around Listania took several steps back. She wasn't foolish enough to think that she had changed their minds, but she had given them some idea of what Listania really wanted... and she had given them a chance to break free. “This is what you, all of you, seek to follow and serve. Consider that, as you listen to her words... and consider that I came here to speak with you, rather than to force your compliance.”
She gave a single nod to the crowd, “All here are free to go. Any who return to the People and who once again swear allegiance to their King, will be forgiven. Those of you who do not... I know your names and faces, now. You who continue to side with Listania are exiled from the Green Heart on pain of death. I'll give you until Simonel's return to leave.”
She gave Xavien a cold look, “All but you, brother.” She wanted to attack him, but she didn't want to endanger the lives of those here or to force his hand. She felt confident that she could take him, backed by the Enchantress's knowledge and the power of the spirits about her. For that matter, she had begun to craft spellgrafts in her flesh not long after the Mantle taught her how. She could match him, possibly defeat him... but he might well leave the Green Heart a smoldering crater if she did. No way to tell what precautions he's taken... or how much his master values him, she thought. “You must leave now. If your feet remain within the Eastwood by dawn, I will kill you myself.”
Xavien's jaw set and his dark eyes locked on her. For just a moment she saw his hands clench on his iron staff... but then he relaxed. He gave a slight bow and a cruel smile, “It seems, sister, that I underestimated you... a fault of my own, I suppose. I'll not do so again,” he nodded at Listania, “You know what needs to be done. I'll take my leave.”
He turned and strode away, the crowd parted around him.
Amelia looked around at the others, “To the rest of you... leave this place. Consider your decision in the light of day, in the company of those you have betrayed.”
***
King Simonel Greeneye
“Borderlands?” Simonel asked as he knelt next to Nanamak.
That in itself was dire news. While most of the beasts that troubled Dybnar Rapids had been easy enough for his hunters to track and put down, this one had eluded his best trackers for two days. On top of that, it had twice now withdrawn to the borderlands, where his people could not follow without violating the terms of their exile. Any beast smart enough to realize that was very dangerous indeed.
The Ancient gave a slight nod. His face, though, was troubled. “I do not recognize these tracks.” Simonel's eyebrows went up at that. The elder had tracked all manner of beasts and men in his ten thousand cycles of life. “They are heavy, too heavy, for bear, larger even than a northern Kodiak. longer claws, loping gait, and it transitions from ground to trees with ease... but it moves fast, faster than any animal that size should move.”
“Sorcerer spawn?” Simonel asked. Sorcerer spawn was a common term for the modified animals that sorcerers crafted to defend
their lairs. Such creatures were common enough in the outer lands, where a sorcerer would breed himself a beast and then modify it as he wanted. In fact, a rogue sorcerer might well explain the other maddened and aggressive beasts that his hunters had dealt with.
“Perhaps,” Nanamak said. “But able to defeat one of the People in a fair fight?”
Simonel grimaced at that. The creature, whatever it was, had struck Dybnar three nights earlier, just before his arrival. In the attack, it had struck down Artohba and made off with his body. While Artohba had not been a fighter, he still would have been more than capable of holding his own against any common animal.
That they had not yet found Artohba's corpse or even more than a few drops of his blood, suggested the creature had dragged him to its den... which would appear to be in the borderlands.
Simonel nodded, “I will have to follow it alone.”
“Alone?” Nanamak asked. His mentor raised one eyebrow, as if to suggest that Simonel had grown cocky. “Remember, my King, the river stone.”
Simonel flushed. In his first real fight as King of the Eastwood, he had fought a heightened fire elemental, a being which sustained itself upon fire... and which had been set loose upon the Eastwood to distract and harass his people. Simonel had felled it with a single blow, but in the process he had slipped and cut himself upon a river stone. Nanamak had teased him mercilessly about that.
“I'll be careful,” Simonel said.
“You had better,” Nanamak said. “I've put far too many cycles into training you to wait for our next champion.” He patted Simonel on the shoulder, “We will await you at Dybnar Rapids.”
Simonel picked up his hunting spear, checked Mede Khmali in its scabbard, and gave his friend a final nod before he bounded off.
***
The creature's tracks were easier to follow as he came into the thinner trees along the borders of the Eastwood. The smaller trees forced the creature to the ground more and more and Simonel felt certain that the monster couldn't be far ahead.
