William Wilde and the Sons of Deceit

by Davis Ashura

Jason frowned and pointed at a spot on the map, a foothill that commanded a valley. “What if they make their stand here? They’ll have the heights and be able to rain fire on us with their cannon, even the ones they stole from Ox Bow Tower.”

  William laughed. “Ox Bow’s cannon won’t help them.”

  Serena shared a grin with him. “But they’ll be useful to us.”

  Jason frowned in puzzlement. “I don’t get it.”

  “The cannons can be made to explode on command,” Jessira said. “When we realized we couldn’t fully man the towers, we made sure to leave a weakness in the cannons in case something like this happened.”

  “You booby-trapped them,” Jason said, his mouth slowly widening into a predatory smile.

  Jake grinned as well.

  William didn’t share his friends’ rising anticipation. He frowned when he noticed a problem. “If they’re willing to push past our forces to reach Lilith, how did they think they’d escape off the island?”

  Rukh folded his arms. “I’d guess their escape will await them at Lilith Bay. We should expect Sinskrill ships there.”

  “We’ll have to leave a force back in Lilith then,” Jessira said.

  “How many do you think we’ll need?” Rukh asked.

  “Fifty,” Jessira answered. “That should be enough to man the five cannons we have on Clifftop.”

  William did the math. “That doesn’t leave you a lot of room if anyone gets tired or hurt.”

  “I can manage a cannon on my own,” Jessira said.

  William did a double-take. In addition to everything else, are Rukh and Jessira thera’asras?

  Rukh’s head shot up then, and he wore a grin of utter joy, one reflected on Jessira’s face. “They’re here. They must have finally heard our call.”

  William viewed them with confusion. “Who’s here?”

  “Our Kesarins,” Jessira answered. “Aia and Shon.”

  ALLIES AND PREMONITIONS

  October 1990

  * * *

  Aia tumbled out of the anchor line, and Shon followed her. Her head spun, and she had trouble seeing straight. A loud ringing filled her ears. Worst of all, she couldn’t hear Shon’s thoughts as anything other than a distant warble. Her stomach rebelled, and she yowled in pain. I hate anchor lines!

  Aia hunched over, and her abdominal muscles involuntarily contracted. Her pupils dilated and the contractions continued until something gross emptied up her throat and out her mouth. Disgusting.

  As soon as she finished vomiting, Aia instantly felt better. Not good, but better. She darted away from whatever she’d coughed up, and Shon did the same, also having retched. He quickly joined her.

  *That was grotesque!* Shon said.

  Aia silently agreed. At least her head no longer spun, her vision no longer blurred, and the last of the ringing in her ears had faded. She took a moment to scan their surroundings.

  The sun had yet to rise, but a bright half-moon provided plenty of light. She and Shon stood in a valley, upon a small glade of damp grass with rugged boulders scattered about. Steep-shouldered hills, vined and jungled, surrounded them. A trail broke a path through the trees and ascended out of the valley. Good. It should make travel easier.

  Aia’s ears rotated, and she listened. Rustling trees, whispering and rattling. Loud birds, not nearly as irritating as the roosters of Sand. She also lifted her nose and inhaled deeply. Immediately, she scented a nearby stream. More sensations came to her. Small animals, huddling in the muggy jungle, amongst fallen, moldy leaves and branches. None of the creatures were worthy of her attention. She scented larger prey, deer or gazelles, and she salivated at the thought of fresh meat.

  Her eagerness stunted when the sharp, acidic odor of large cat wafted on the wind. The animal—a male—had marked a nearby tree, and Aia growled. He'd better not challenge us. He’ll regret it.

  Aia picked out more details. Warm air played across her fur, a delight, after the bone-snapping chill of Sand—Kesarins weren’t made for the cold. She smiled as she stretched her muscles and rolled her shoulders.

  Shon luxuriated in the warmth as well. Aia sensed it in the way his ears lay back, and his eyes lidded. Shon rolled over and rubbed his back into the grassy glade. *Being warm is much better than being cold,* he said, staring at her from upside down.

  *We should have come here much sooner,* Aia agreed.

  Shon yawned. *To think our humans enjoyed this wonderfulness while we froze to death in Sand.*

  Aia chuckled. *We’re still alive,* she said. *We didn’t actually freeze to death.*

  Shon blinked. *We might have. Another winter, and I think we would have.*

  *Regardless, we survived,* Aia said, *and though you found the cold painful and biting, I only thought it was uncomfortable.* For some reason she wanted to ensure that her little brother remembered that she was hardier than him . . . just like Rukh was hardier than Jessira.

  Shon rolled over. *I’m thirsty.*

  Now that he mentioned it, Aia was also thirsty. A drink would also wash away the terrible taste in her mouth. *There’s water nearby.*

  She and Shon padded to the stream. The water collected from the surrounding hills, forming a burbling stream that meandered through the valley and across pebbles and moss. Insects flitted above the waterline and amongst the reeds growing along both banks. Farther downstream Aia sensed that the rivulet deepened and widened.

  She lapped water and drank until she was full, sighing in appreciation afterward. She felt more like herself, and the last lingering effects of the anchor line faded.

  She caught Shon peering at her in puzzlement, his head tilted to the side. *You seem different,* he said.

  *What do you mean?*

  *Bigger.*

  Aia studied her brother and noticed that he seemed larger as well. Thinking about it, she realized that she felt better than she ever had in Sand, more as she had once been when she’d roamed the Hunters' Flats. Stronger and more dangerous, too. *How do you feel?*

  Shon narrowed his eyes in thought. *More like myself, like I used to be.*

  Aia gave a blink of her eyes and a flick of her ears. *Me, too. I think it has something to do with this place, Arylyn.*

  Shon grimaced, a flattening of his ears. *I told you we should have come here sooner.*

  Aia sighed. *We had to help Landon first.*

  *We finished helping him weeks ago. We should have come here then,* Shon persisted.

  *We couldn’t know our work was complete until a few days ago.*

  *But—*

  Aia batted him on the nose, no longer in the mood to talk about it. *Enough. We’ve wasted enough time. We need to find our humans.

  Aren't we supposed to find the troll-creature? That’s what Jessira said.

  *Of course,* Aia agreed.

  Shon yawned. *Can I nap first?*

  Aia considered the question. Any time they journeyed through one of the cursed anchor lines, it left her tired. Rukh needed her help, but she was so sleepy. Her eyes drooped, and she yawned, too. *Only for a short while,* she said. She curled up in a warm patch of sunshine.

  Brandon stood on the deck of Deathbringer, automatically maintaining his balance amidst the ship’s swaying motion. He stared astern to where the rest of the fleet followed. No lanterns lit the other ships, and they sailed as blackened silhouettes, assassins on the water. The wash of waves against the hull echoed dully, and despite night’s fall Brandon could still see them relatively clearly. The light of a half-moon played on the waves, and with no obscuring clouds or mist, it provided enough illumination to easily identify the other vessels.

  Brandon sighed. At least that same light also revealed that no islands or rocks sprouted from the water anywhere close by.

  A gusting wind blew and filled Deathbringer’s sails. The breeze brought blessed relief from the heat and humidity. Brandon lifted his sweaty shirt off his chest and fanned himself with it.

  He’d been transferred to Deathbringer, his old
ship, the one that had first brought him to Arylyn. The Servitor wanted him in command, stating that he trusted him to use the vessel more effectively than the previous captain, Hannah Yearn. She was a competent mahavan, much older than Brandon, but deathly averse to taking any risks, and risks might be required before the day was done.

  Brandon faced the bow. Though he couldn’t see it he knew that Arylyn hung directly past the horizon. The fleet had reached the magi’s island home days earlier, dropping off the Secondus and most of the mahavans. Afterward, they’d pulled back and remained out of sight. Not forever, though. The Secondus was closing in on Lilith, and the fleet would soon begin their assault on the village as well, an attack that would surely result in the deaths of hundreds of the magi.

  A queasy sensation twisted Brandon’s insides at the thought. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with the notion of bringing war to Lilith, and he wondered again how the Servitor could speak of Arylyn’s destruction with such equanimity.

  When Brandon had first returned to Sinskrill from the magi’s home, his liege had asked him a great number of questions. Many of them had been about Serena and Selene. It was unsurprising. One of the most well-known, but least spoken of secrets on Sinskrill was that Serena and Selene were the Servitor’s natural children. While Brandon had told his liege what he knew about Serena’s and Selene’s lives on Arylyn, an unvoiced emotion had filled the Servitor’s features. Brandon suspected it was longing or even regret, and he understood.

  Despite Sinskrill’s harsh culture, certain things—like the love of a parent for a child—could never be entirely dimmed. Brandon recalled the pride shining in his mother’s and father’s faces when he’d been made a mahavan. There had also been something else in their unblinking, unexpressive drone faces, something that Brandon had long pondered. During his time spying on the magi he’d finally understood what it was. Love. His parents had loved him.

  Which made what the mahavans would inevitably do to Lilith all the harder. Brandon regretted what was to come even as he accepted it as his duty. He’d take no pleasure in it. Not as he once might have. My time on Arylyn has made me weak.

  As he pondered the truth about himself, he realized that his weakness had begun far earlier than his scouting pilgrimage to Arylyn. It started when Serena had escaped Sinskrill on her small dhow, Blue Sky Dreams. Preeti had gone after Selene, and Serena had nearly killed her for it. Brandon had seen the desperate love in Serena’s face when Selene had been threatened. Worse, Brandon had understood Serena’s actions and silently applauded them. Perhaps that was why she’d defeated them. Brandon hadn’t wanted to win. He wondered if he wanted to win now as well.

  Hannah approached, and Brandon set aside his traitorous thoughts.

  “We’ve received word from the Servitor,” she said. No sense of anger at her fallen status etched her voice. Hannah was one who followed orders and didn’t worry about much else.

  “What did he say?” Brandon asked.

  “Adam’s forces are two days from Lilith. We’re to begin our bombardment tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Do we know of any forces left at the village?”

  Hannah shook her head. “Expectations are that their forces will be north of the village, seeking to stop Adam. There shouldn’t be anyone left in Lilith to defend against us.”

  “The plan relies on it,” Brandon said.

  Hannah blinked once, her features uncaring, as if the coming battle was of no concern. “The Servitor also states that we have nothing to fear. He says the cannons he’s created and the nomasras he’s provided will defend us from any counter-attack.” Certainty filled her voice, as if the Servitor’s words were unalterable truth.

  Brandon wished he could be so sanguine. He recalled other aspects of his last conversation with the Servitor. Beyond regret at losing Serena and Selene, his liege had also been nervous. In fact, there might have been fear lighting his eyes. This attack wasn’t quite as simple or risk-free as Hannah apparently believed.

  Travail sat with his eyes closed and his back to the rocky face of a spiny foothill west of Mount Madhava. Across his lap lay a staff, twelve feet in length and thick as log. Despite its massive size, the walking aid and weapon fit him. He rested his hands upon it, holding quiet, meditating and listening to the world.

  An early afternoon sun beamed down. It cast the eastern half of the mountain in a shadow that cleanly bisected the peak all the way from its snowy top to its rugged shoulders. The sunshine also kept Travail warm in spite of the chill wind blowing endlessly at the heights upon which he sat. Fine dust swirled and the perpetual gusts tossed his long hair about, rippling through his thick, black fur. Travail ignored the wind and focused instead on the silence of his thoughts.

  Peace, however, proved elusive as a disturbance interrupted his meditation.

  Travail opened his eyes and searched for what had broken his concentration. He quickly discovered two large cats making their way up the slope toward him. One had a calico pattern, and the other was tawny with a white tuft on its chin and paws. Both were larger than any cat Travail had ever heard of. He stood to face them and readied his staff.

  Twenty yards away, both cats sat down and curled their tails in front of their paws.

  *My name is Aia,* a female voice spoke in Travail’s mind.

  *My name is Shon,* another voice said, this one a male.

  Travail blinked in surprise and he tilted his head in thought. He recalled William’s words about a calico kitten named Aia, from long ago during their time together on Sinskrill, one who could speak in a person’s mind. But this was no kitten. She was huge.

  *I’m glad you think so, but we’re still small compared to who we are meant to be,* the female voice said.

  Travail relaxed. The words told him that it must be the same animal.

  *I am no animal,* Aia said, obviously offended. *I am a Kesarin.*

  Travail smiled and planted the butt of his staff against the ground. His curiosity piqued. Something new had entered his life, something no book could properly explain. *I meant no offense,* he said. *My name is Travail. I am a troll.*

  *You look like a Bael,* the male voiced, Shon apparently.

  *In some ways, yes,* Aia said, *but his features aren’t as thick and coarse, less bovine as well. More human.*

  *True,* Shon agreed with a slight smile.

  Travail’s brows lifted as he recalled something once told to him. *A Bael is a creature from Arisa, Rukh and Jessira’s world, is it not?*

  Aia’s eyes widened, and what Travail would have described as happiness filled her feline features. *You know Rukh and Jessira?*

  Travail nodded. *I know of them, but I can’t say that I know them very well. I’ve only spoken briefly to them. Most of my knowledge about them comes from my friends, William and Jake.* He pursed his mouth in thought before continuing. *If you don’t mind me saying, Rukh and Jessira are odd humans.*

  Shon surged to his feet and growled. *They are the greatest of humans.*

  Travail pulled his staff closer and eyed the cats in worry. *Again, I meant no offense.*

  Aia nipped Shon on his shoulder. *No offense was received,* she said, seeming to eye the other cat in annoyance.

  Shon settled down, subsiding.

  Travail relaxed somewhat. *Aia and Shon, what brings you to Arylyn?*

  Aia shrugged—a brief narrowing of her eyes—or at least it seemed that way to Travail. *Our humans require our help. We sensed their need. We traveled to meet them.*

  Travail viewed them in uncertainly. *Your humans? By this, I assume you mean Rukh and Jessira.*

  Shon sighed, a long blink of his eyes. *Jessira is mine. Rukh belongs to Aia.*

  *They belong to you?*

  Both Kesarins nodded, a slight lifting of their chins and widening of their eyes. Again it seemed so to Travail, but who could truly tell with cats?

  *Kesarins,* Aia corrected.

  Travail wanted to roll his eyes at her pedantic correction.

&nb
sp; Shon’s eyes narrowed. *Are you a troll or a human?*

  *A troll, obviously.*

  *Not to most cats,* Aia said. *They lack the wit to see the difference. To them, you walk on two legs, which means you’re human. We recognize the difference, though. We simply ask that you do the same on our behalf.*

  Travail grinned at her statement. What wonderfully wise creatures. He decided he liked these two.

  *We think we’ll like you, too,* Aia said.

  He’d have trouble getting used to them knowing his thoughts, though.

  Shon slowly blinked his eyes. *All creatures have that problem with us.*

  Travail felt oddly relieved by Shon’s words, and he returned to what the Kesarins had earlier said. *And you’re here because you sensed Rukh and Jessira’s need?*

  Aia nodded. *Our humans are always getting into trouble. I’ve lost count of the number of times they’ve required our help.*

  *Without us, they would have died many times over,* Shon said.

  Aia spoke, *Humans can behave foolishly, and ours can be the most foolish.*

  Travail faced the Kesarins with puzzlement once more. When he’d called Rukh and Jessira ‘odd’ Shon had taken great offense. Now they insulted them? He wasn’t sure how to interpret their strange behavior.

  Aia smiled. *No one said Kesarins are consistent.*

  Travail blinked as he considered Aia’s words. He eventually shrugged. *What kind of trouble approaches Rukh and Jessira?*

  *Not just Rukh and Jessira,* Aia corrected. *William and Serena also.*

  Shon took up the explanation. *A large band of humans, deadly of intent, has come to this island.*

  *Along with a number of strange creatures with no shape,* Aia added.

  Travail frowned. *No shape?*

  Aia nodded. *They constantly change their shapes. One second, they’re birds, the next, something else.*

  *Unformed,* Travail said. *You’re speaking of unformed.*

  Shon tilted his head. *Is that what you call them? A good name.*

  A coldness settled in the pit of Travail’s stomach. *And you know this how?*