Dreams

by James Erich

  As Sael charged in to do his part defending the gate, the Taaweh intervened. One of the battering rams was plowing through the foot soldiers, gaining momentum, but it suddenly stopped about ten feet from the gate and dropped to the ground. The wooden framework underneath the hides snapped and splintered as it struck the cobblestones, and the tree trunk bumped along a foot or two before it skidded to a halt. Warriors on both sides of the battle cried out and jumped away to avoid being crushed.

  The second battering ram was in the process of backing up for another go at the gate when it too collapsed to the ground, unmanned.

  Though the fighting continued a short distance away, those warriors at the gate who witnessed the disappearance of everyone who’d been manning the battering rams stopped dead and gaped at the abandoned siege engines in superstitious terror. Men from both armies stood side by side, their conflict momentarily forgotten, and stared without comprehension until someone cried out and their attention was drawn to the west.

  Sael turned on his horse and saw the trees and stones rising up from the center of the plain had begun to resemble an enormous city, far larger than Harleh—larger even than the capital city—with stone spires reaching up higher than the tallest towers of the keep, the buildings interspersed with so many massive trees there seemed to be no distinction between city and forest. And it was spreading, the edges of the forest-city expanding on all sides as warriors scrambled to get away.

  Sael had read something in the academy libraries, years ago, about a great city that had once existed on Harleh Plain, long before Harleh itself had been built; a massive city, in which had dwelled the enemies of the gods. It had been destroyed a thousand years ago during the Great War, so thoroughly that nothing was able to grow on the plain for centuries afterward.

  What had been its name? Sael struggled to remember while he fought to keep his frightened horse under control and men all around him were shouting—some screaming—and praying to the gods for mercy. His weary brain wasn’t up to the task of dredging up ancient lessons that never really interested him at the time, but a word was slowly forming in the back of his mind…

  … Gyishya.

  Chapter 28

  KOREH had never fought in a battle before. Street fights, certainly, and he’d had some narrow escapes from the guards in the capital city, which involved a certain amount of kicking, punching, and biting in order to regain his freedom. But nothing of this scale. He staggered, exhausted, through the tall grass on the plain near the keep where it still was a plain, not a forest—choking on the smoke that hung heavy in the air, searching for a place to rest.

  But everywhere he turned there were corpses, bloody and brutally mangled by swords and pikes and arrows. The bodies near the west gate were the worst, burned beyond recognition and reeking of burnt hair and flesh. Not all of them were trained soldiers. Every able-bodied male in Harleh had fought to save the keep, and many of the dead were boys barely capable of growing fuzz on their chins.

  Koreh felt sick at the sight of them, and he refused to sit or lie anywhere near a dead body, meaning he had no choice but to continue walking. He himself was covered in drying blood, though he wasn’t sure where it had come from. The staff he’d fought with had killed a number of men, to be sure, but it didn’t draw blood. Not much anyway. Koreh had been cut several times by swords and pikes and bashed with shields, but his wounds were slight and had stopped bleeding by now.

  He could have simply disappeared, but he was searching for something, his tired brain not fully comprehending what it was until he came across it. He found Snut near the wall of the keep, to the north of the west gate. He was cradling his kid brother, Mak, in his lap. Koreh called out to them, but neither moved, and when he drew near he realized they were both dead. Mak had been gutted, and his stomach was a mass of blood Koreh dared not look too closely at. Snut, in protecting his brother, cradling him and shielding him with his body, had taken two arrows in the neck and shoulder.

  Koreh kneeled beside them and reached out a hand to touch the bare skin on Mak’s forearm. He was unsurprised when he found it cold to the touch. Then he remained there for a time, weeping for them and for their father.

  ALL around Harleh, the battle was coming to an end, both because the warriors were beginning to realize an enormous magical event was taking place, and because the warriors of the emperor were systematically vanishing. They were falling into the ground in mid-sword swing, or mid-spell cast, leaving the warriors of Harleh shocked and fearful. Even the emperor’s warriors near the gate, who had stopped fighting, soon disappeared. Not all the remaining men realized it was only their enemies who were disappearing, and they were falling to their knees, weeping in terror, or running for the west gate as if the keep could protect them. None of these men knew of the alliance with the Taaweh, or even who the Taaweh were. Only those who had been part of the war council knew that.

  Vek Worlen and Meik rode up to Sael, where the three of them could look out across the plain at the city that had risen there. It was hard to tell, from this distance, whether it had finished rising up from the ground or not, as a mist had begun to settle over the plain, blending with the pall of smoke near the keep and obscuring things at ground level. High up in the towers, thousands of blue lights began to glow, as if people were lighting candles in windows.

  It was beautiful, Sael thought.

  “Regroup the forces,” the vek ordered his general.

  Meik raised a horn to his lips and blew the call. He waited a moment, then blew it again. Colonel Toren trotted up to them, and at Meik’s order, he took charge of clearing the two battering rams from the road. A fire brigade of townspeople was already rushing around with buckets of water, trying to contain the fires to the area near the gate.

  Harleh’s soldiers drifted in from wherever they’d been scattered during the battle, looking to Sael like the ghosts of dead soldiers staggering out of the mist. It took the better part of an hour for the survivors to assemble. No doubt there were wounded still out there who would have to be searched for.

  Meik commanded the leaders of the battalions to do a head count. The numbers that came back were disheartening. Harleh had lost a quarter of its fighting force in a matter of hours. Sael’s own battalion was down by almost a third. Though he hadn’t known any of these men personally, Sael felt their loss in a way he couldn’t quite explain. He’d been responsible for them, even though he’d been largely a figurehead and Colonel Toren was really their leader.

  It was, of course, impossible to estimate the casualties on the opposite side. The dead still littered the plain, but not a single living soldier of the emperor’s army remained. The Taaweh had taken them all.

  Sael’s father brought his horse close to Sael’s so he could speak without being overheard. He glanced at his son, his face grim, before looking back at the city rising out of the mist. “You’ve made an alliance with devils,” he spat.

  Sael could think of no response. He wanted to believe Koreh hadn’t led them all astray. After all, the Taaweh had honored their bargain to aid Harleh. But what did the return of Gyishya—if that was truly what it was—mean to Harleh? What kind of beings could wipe out thousands of men practically in the blink of an eye? And what had become of those men? Were they dead? Even the ones who had, just moments before they vanished, ceased fighting? As stern and callous as the vek could be at times, Sael knew his father would never kill a soldier who surrendered on the field. Sael was no longer certain the Taaweh were benevolent.

  Koreh, what have you gotten us into? And where are you?

  Suddenly there was a shout, followed rapidly by exclamations from a number of the men. Sael lowered his gaze from the city and saw with horror what had disturbed them. Corpses were rising up out of the trampled grass and dirt—thousands of them, it seemed, neatly laid out in row after row, extending to the north, west and south of Harleh.

  They were the emperor’s soldiers.

  “Now isn’t that lovely,” the vek sai
d in disgust, spurring his horse forward to examine the dead men more closely. Meik and Sael followed him, and when they drew alongside him, Worlen said, “Savage. And now, of course, we’ll have to bury them all.”

  That would be an enormous task, as well as a nightmarish one, but leaving the bodies to rot on the plain would be worse and it would invite disease into the city.

  Meik dismounted and handed his reins to Sael. Then he walked forward into the sea of bodies, shaking his head in dismay. After a moment, though, he stopped and bent to examine one of the corpses more closely. “Your Grace! This man is breathing!”

  The vek jumped down off his horse, and one of his soldiers rushed forward to take the animal’s reins. Sael’s father approached Meik and knelt to examine the fallen man himself. “Check the others,” he ordered.

  “This one is breathing too, Your Grace. And this one.”

  Sael felt a wave of relief wash over him as more and more of the supposed corpses were found to still be alive. The Taaweh hadn’t simply slaughtered all of them. They didn’t respond to any attempt to wake them, it was true, but Sael had hope the Taaweh would revive them in time.

  His father approached and waved his hand for Sael to dismount. When they were standing on equal ground, the vek said quietly, “The battle is over, and Harleh appears to be victorious… though what your new ‘allies’ will do next remains to be seen. But you have several decisions to make now. One in particular.”

  “What to do with several thousand sleeping men.”

  “Precisely.”

  KOREH was unable to get near Sael for a considerable amount of time. The new dekan was alive, Koreh knew, from glimpses he’d gotten of Sael, but there was too much demanding his attention for Koreh to track him down alone, and he had no intention of putting in an appearance in front of Harleh’s army and the vek. Not after that little incident in the healers’ tent.

  For a time, he watched the unconscious bodies of the emperor’s men being sorted. The high-ranking officers were taken inside the keep, perhaps with the intention of ransoming them, whereas the others were crowded into makeshift tents and pavilions. Harleh would never be able to feed all these men, should they suddenly wake up, but the intention appeared to be to shelter them for the time being. Koreh was as uncertain as anyone when, or if, the Taaweh intended to wake the sleeping soldiers.

  For that matter, he was uncertain how to get back to the Taaweh, or even if they wanted him back. He assumed they still needed him for whatever task they’d been hinting at, but the Iinu Shaa might be furious with him for disobeying. The thought of facing down an angry death god—if that was what he was—didn’t make Koreh particularly anxious to go back. And unless one of the Taaweh came to fetch him, he knew he’d never be able to find that forest sanctuary.

  Eventually Koreh found Geilin resting on a stone seat built into one of the keep’s battlements, looking down at the construction of the tents just outside the outer wall and contemplating the enormous city on the plain beyond.

  Geilin seemed unsurprised by Koreh’s appearance as the young man swirled up out of the stone walkway a few feet away from him. “Good afternoon,” the old man said wearily.

  The wizard mopped sweat off his bald pate with one of the gold sleeves of his robe. The robe itself was practically drenched with sweat. It was the first time Koreh had seen evidence that fire magic could be strenuous.

  Geilin glanced up at the blue-gray cloud cover overhead and added, “If it is afternoon. I’ve never seen clouds like these. Magical, of course.”

  Koreh nodded. “They prevent the Stronni from seeing anything in the valley.”

  “I see. And that buys the Taaweh some time, I suppose. Though why they should need it, I can’t fathom. They’ve had a thousand years to plan.”

  “They need it,” Koreh said slowly, “because of me. At least, I think so.”

  When Geilin raised his eyebrows at him, Koreh came closer and sat down on the bench beside the old wizard.

  “They have some sort of plan,” he went on. “I don’t know what, really. But I think they’re training me for something. And I guess they need time for me to learn what I have to do.”

  Geilin stroked his short beard thoughtfully. “Interesting. But they won’t be able to hide what’s happened here for long. Surely word will get back to the emperor about the battle’s outcome, and the Stronni will learn of it through the caedan and the emperor’s ömem.”

  “Have you been down there?” Koreh asked. “Not a single one of the emperor’s men is conscious. They’re all either dead or in some kind of magical sleep. And I doubt any of them escaped the Taaweh. No word will get back to the emperor.”

  Geilin gave him a shrewd look and waved a hand dismissively. “When nobody reports back, he’ll send scouts to investigate.”

  “Even if they get past the Taaweh,” Koreh said, “it will take days for them to travel here and back….”

  He trailed off because they were no longer alone. One of the Taaweh had appeared silently and was standing on the walkway, watching them. Koreh had no idea if he’d met this particular Taaweh before—his face was hidden in the shadowy depths of his cowl. Geilin followed Koreh’s gaze and, when he saw their visitor, he stood and gave him a respectful nod.

  The Taaweh walked toward them, his footsteps making no sound, and even his staff failed to make noise when it tapped the stone walkway. “Iinyeh Koreh, you have protected your tyeh-iinyeh, as you wished. It is time to return to the Iinu Shaa.”

  The Taaweh wasn’t male. Koreh couldn’t be certain, but he thought she might be the same woman who’d instructed him in the use of the staff. Koreh stood, torn between his desire to return and his need to see Sael.

  “Please,” he said. “Let me say good-bye to Sael before I go.”

  The Taaweh was silent for a long moment, before replying, “You have until nightfall.”

  Then she spun around and vanished.

  Chapter 29

  SAEL stood atop one of the western turrets, overlooking the gate, while the road below and the town near the gate swarmed with activity, torches circling and flitting from place to place like fireflies in the encroaching darkness. The fires were out and the smoke had somewhat dissipated, but there was still a thick, nauseating, and sickly-sweet odor of burning in the air. The stench would probably linger for days.

  Sael had sought out this spot as one of the few places where he could overlook the work being done, yet still have a small amount of privacy, if only for a few moments. He’d even set a guard at the entrance to the upper half of the turret to block anyone from bothering him for a short time. But even with that, the sense of privacy was somewhat illusory. He was clearly visible up here to anyone seeking him out, and there were people within a stone’s throw of him in any direction. Most of the citizens of Harleh seemed to be crammed on top of the inner walls of the keep and hanging out of windows, staring openmouthed at Gyishya on the horizon.

  It was no small feat to divert the entire population’s attention away from thousands of warriors and mages laying siege to Harleh, but the Taaweh had managed it.

  Sael was weary to the point where he could barely stand. Worse, he’d seen no sign of Koreh since running into him that morning during the battle, and now he feared those angry words they’d exchanged might have been their last.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” a familiar voice said behind him, and an enormous wave of relief flooded over him.

  Sael turned to see Koreh standing there, still wearing one of the oddly nebulous dark robes.

  “I’ve seen you here and there during the day,” Koreh continued, setting his fighting staff down on the stone floor and then straightening again, “but I could never find you alone.”

  “I haven’t been alone,” Sael replied. “Not until now. There has been so much to do….”

  “You’re dekan now.”

  “Yes. And Father has been demanding that I make most of the decisions. I just hope I don’t mess everything up.”


  “You won’t,” Koreh said confidently, and even though Sael wasn’t sure he believed him, it was nice to hear that declaration of faith.

  “I really should go back down. I just needed a few moments to catch my breath.” Sael didn’t want to leave. If he had his way, the two of them would crawl into a nice warm bed and cuddle for the next several days. But he knew his father was probably already wondering where he’d disappeared to. “We can talk in my room later.”

  “Wait.” Koreh closed the distance between them and reached out to touch Sael’s shoulder gently. “I can’t go your room tonight. I have to leave now—with the Taaweh.”

  Leave? Sael struggled to keep his voice from catching, as he asked, “You’re leaving?”

  “I don’t know when I’ll be back. But they let me come say good-bye. Just… just give me a moment to be with you.”

  “We don’t have time right now to find a bed,” Sael said softly, not sure if he was trying to be funny or not. He lifted his own hand to brush Koreh’s cheek gently, unable to express the tender ache he felt inside his chest.

  Koreh closed his eyes for a moment and pressed his cheek against Sael’s hand. “I don’t know what they want of me. But they’ve aided me so often, and now they’ve saved Harleh. I’m obligated to do what I can for them.”

  Sael understood, but he didn’t want to. It seemed absurd that, just as he and Koreh had finally sorted out how they felt about one another, they were being forced to separate again.

  “I need you,” Sael said stubbornly.

  “And I you. But we both have things to attend to. Our needs will have to wait for some other time.”

  Koreh leaned forward and took Sael’s lips with his own. Their kiss was long and filled with desire, frustration, and sorrow… but also promise. When at last they pulled apart, Koreh enveloped Sael in his arms and whispered into his ear, “I love you. And I will return to you.”