Striking Chains

by Kris Schnee

  Dominic scowled and said nothing.

  Perrin pressed on. "I heard about the 'Prince' thing. It was a good move. Clever, not to explicitly say you're joining the League. And you can always do it later and be a Duke. The other Dukes weren't happy about the idea that they can't loot this place. But I sold them on it, on the theory that they need a pacified base for further attacks."

  Dominic rubbed his bandaged leg and winced. "I thought you'd be furious."

  Perrin grinned widely. "It's just banners that hold people together. By giving these people a third option besides Baccata and their old enemy, you can break them more easily."

  Rose's fur was on end as she looked furtively at the sky. "You stirred up something big. They're committing a lot to this war while the momentum's on. I bet they've got griffins coming here!"

  Dominic glanced upward too but saw no shadows against the stars. It was bizarre to think of the hated foreign knights as allies. "I hope they're on watch. High Citizen Arend's water supply has been cut off, and he knows something's seriously wrong inside the walls. If I were him I'd either counterattack or start besieging my own city -- and a siege now favors us, not his troops stuck at the Flower Walls."

  "Have you got men ready?" said Perrin.

  "Citizen Bastian does. Call him captain of the guard." Dominic's excitement was wearing off; he yawned. "I'm hurt and he probably won't move until morning. Come to the Hall of Law with me and we'll catch a nap."

  * * *

  He stood in the ruins of a rotted mansion, above a woman who was dead, pierced with splinters. What had happened here? Around him all was chaos: shifting colors, warring weather. Maybe he could make a sturdy raft from the salvaged wood.

  He felt that he was being observed, and was guilty like a child caught at something.

  * * *

  They woke to an alert at dawn. Dominic sat up shuddering, feeling a nightmare slip away. Citizen Bastian said, "A raid at the west gate. Come."

  He ran with a limp, but Rose's healing had been much more effective than his own. He came close enough to hear men shouting and see one of them fall backwards from the walls, riddled with arrows. He only imagined hearing the horrible wet thud. Two magic-guided grappling hooks cleared the walls, but men cut them down.

  "What's Arend got?" Dominic shouted.

  Bastian was already at the walls. One of his men started to explain, but the crack of a battering ram against the west gate said enough. This gate was heavily iron-bound oak, something High Citizen Arend hadn't expected to be shut against his thirsty troops.

  Dominic said, "Mages, help me with the gate." Someone out there was trying to magically rip up the wood from outside, though doing that through metal was difficult. Dominic hobbled toward it and began melding cracked fibers back together, feeling them intertwine like fingers. Perrin was already away with a crossbow. Rose seemed eager to do something that didn't get her shot at; she joined him and added her own weaving to the spell. The ram struck home again and made the whole gate-passage crack with thunder. He and Rose recoiled as though the ram had slammed their guts instead of the wood. All around them were screams and shouts. Arrows whistled overhead, some of them flaming. The civilians were mostly huddling in their homes.

  Rose sniffed the air and her tail flagged in alarm. "This thing's not going to hold for long. If the Lord were here He'd swing this whole door around like a hammer!"

  Dominic had to trust in the men standing at the murder-holes nearby, shooting the soldiers outside. He could feel the cracks spreading faster than his limited wood-shaping could mend them. His supporters scrambled closer with furniture to use for reinforcement, or ammunition. Others, loyalists of Arend, intercepted them and a brawl broke out. There had to be more people trying to scale the walls too.

  Dominic felt the enemy closing in from all sides and clamping down on his lungs. Rose yelped and leaped back from another loud blow that made the head of the enemy ram break a hole through the gate. "Not long now! Hey, just a bare log for a ram? Isn't that supposed to be metal-tipped?"

  "Must be improvised," said Dominic. He made himself get back to the emergency repairs. "If you can hold the door for one more blow and that thing is visible, I'll use the Splinter Scream."

  "The what? You must mean the Flechette Bouquet. Yes." She shuddered and stood on the verge of fleeing, with one foot turned backward more than seemed possible for a human.

  He couldn't take on everyone by himself. In a way the knowledge was a comfort. Were the people of Seaflower, after his speeches and tricks and a decent case for becoming independent, convinced enough to fight the Baccata Holy State? If not, then Arend would retake control. Dominic then would take as many loyalists with him as he could, and die damning them for their stupidity.

  These were dark thoughts. He'd told himself he'd accepted a higher moral standard than that. Just then, the battering ram intruded on his worries. What happened next, seemed to go very slowly. Dominic saw the shaft, already cracked in its own right, stabbing an arm's length through the creaking gate. He stepped toward the danger and slapped the wood with both palms, sending a current of magic forward along its whole length. He felt the ram shattering outward and a few splinters of it flying back to tear his arms. Rose's nerve broke and she bolted to one side, only to be met by angry Citizens coming with knives and clubs and a flying rope. They were Baccatan loyalists, judging by their shouts.

  What kind of Prince would you be? he heard in his mind. The kind that abuses women and sends men to their doom for your own glory? Is that your idea of valor?

  He thought in reply, I don't care about glory! I threw away a reputation as a budding scholar. I'd like to be back in a library right now! And I know the westerners are using me to get back at their old enemies.

  Dominic jumped in front of Rose, who didn't deserve to be cut down for sharing in his little adventure. He called forth his darts and feinted at the Arend loyalists, blocking their attempted counterattack.

  Why don't you just stab them? They're only livestock, right?

  Dominic found himself slashing across arms and legs where he had to strike at all, rather than jabbing necks and hearts. His victims would probably live. His flying darts moved as though drifting deep underwater, on a current of emerald laced with blood. It's tempting to think that. I'll kill people who get in my way, if I have to... but they're still people. I started down this path because I wanted to keep the bloodshed to a minimum. I can't claim to be right if I don't care about the very people I'm supposedly fighting for.

  The enemy fought back. A crossbow bolt whizzed by and cut his hair. Two men with clubs got close. Dominic saw them attacking together and tried to rip the weapons from their hands by magic, but only managed to parry. Then came a dance of melee with them. His fists and elbows beat one man down by surprise but let the other one's club crack sickeningly into his chest. Dominic gasped and staggered back with sparks in his vision.

  Again he felt himself being quizzed. You can leave this work to others. These men want you alive as a prisoner, and Bastian can't afford to lose you, so you'll likely be rescued. Why bother asking for more punishment?

  "Can't stop now," he said out loud with a wheeze. "Won't let what I've done... be for nothing. I will end the Holy State." He staggered and straightened up, ripping a club from one man's hand and blasting it apart into the group of too many men who still assailed him and Rose. Without him consciously willing it, his darts flew up again and whirled around him in trails of... gold? He caught his breath and added, "And I'll build something better!"

  "Dom, what is that?" Rose was up and had retrieved a fallen staff. She was staring at him. So were the other city folk near the gate. There was no sound of the ram returning behind him.

  Dominic looked down at himself and noticed he was on fire. It only warmed his skin, and flickered in gold all around him. He slapped his hands against his chest but the flames only flickered and curled harmlessly along his skin and clothes. Whatever was happening made the loyalist Seaf
lower folk draw back, so he advanced on them. "You don't need to fight me," he said.

  One of them shouted up at the men brawling on the walls. "The Prince is a sacred spirit!"

  18. Saints and Monsters

  Dominic stood near the west gate of Seaflower, where the battle had ebbed. "Rose, the gate."

  "Right," she said, and went back to hasty repair work. She kept staring at him over her shoulder, though.

  Dominic tried to judge what had happened to him. There was an active spell effect that made a glow visible even without magic-sense. He willed it to keep going as though maintaining any other spell, though he had no idea what he was doing with this one. "Sacred spirit?" he thought, trying to remember what bits of northern pagan theology he knew. Nothing about a glow. But if the locals thought it meant something, he could use that. He hurried up toward the walls and no one got in his way. In fact, the people who'd moments before been fighting to help High Citizen Arend retake the battlements were now just gaping at him. He said, "Defend the city!" They obeyed, turning to beat down whoever was trying to scale the walls from outside.

  He figured that as many people should see him as possible in this state. He went up to the walls and risked waving down at the attacking troops for a moment. Even in that second two crossbow bolts whizzed nearby. He still didn't have an overwhelmingly persuasive presence!

  A huge Bound man looked down at him with wide eyes. "You're the Prince?"

  "Yes. And you're going to be set free, if you want it." If you don't, he added to himself, why the hell are you on the walls?

  The man gave him the northern religious gesture Dominic had used in front of the Citizens. "Thank you, sir!" He turned and shouted down at the attacking troops, "The spirits are with us!"

  What have I done? thought Dominic. He needed to speak to Bastian. He took another peek over the wall and saw Arend's troops hesitating. Their ram had shattered, their food and water supply had gone dry, the city hadn't instantly put down Dominic's rebellion, and -- what was that in the sky? The big, dark shapes had to be the promised griffins! The enemy just needed a little more discouragement. Dominic tried to think for a moment amid the din of battle. Then he smiled, recalling that the golden shine on him extended to the darts around him. He gave a shout of effort and flung them high into the air over Seaflower, willing the whole cloud to stay together and then burst outward in a pattern that might charitably look like a sun. Or maybe a flower.

  The whizzing of crossbow bolts and screams of men trailed off for a few moments. It didn't end right then, but everyone later said that it was when the Baccatan loyalists finally broke.

  * * *

  Citizen Bastian gathered him, Rose, Jakob and Perrin back in the Hall of Law. All of them were bandaged and bruised. Dominic in particular still wheezed with each breath; there wasn't much that could be done to heal him a second time so soon. Bastian shook each of their hands, smiling. "My gamble was successful. Congratulations, Prince."

  Dominic's glow had faded. "I don't know what happened to me."

  "Old story. 'The righteous become as stars.' Maybe there's more to you than I'd given you credit for. Play it for everything it's worth."

  Dominic drew in a breath. That spell they taught me in the north, the one that seemed to do nothing. Was that what I used? He considered the Weave pattern. It might shunt energy into visible light, much like a common amber lamp, but there was more to it that he couldn't understand.

  Tell no one where you learned it, the northern party had warned him. He shivered. Was it justice or any other virtue to hide what he'd learned from everyone? For the moment he sat in silence. The spell had helped to end a battle.

  Rose curled her tail around her waist, a gesture Dominic recognized as unease. "Never heard of that spell."

  Bastian said, "I'm grateful for your help, but I have to wonder why a rodent is on Dominic's side."

  She curled her tail tighter and flicked her whiskers. "A long time ago, the Lord -- Veles -- lived in Baccata." The others nodded. "What He told me on my way out was that He didn't just feel idle curiosity about His old stomping grounds. He's... worried for His people."

  "Ha!" said Perrin. "The old man must have wanted to cause some trouble! We're on it."

  "No, no! My orders were to see what was going on, as an agricultural expert. Not to do anything to provoke Baccata against Him! My decisions are only mine, not His."

  Perrin said, "You're a farmer who can crack skulls with a sling-staff?"

  "No better than half my kin! We all learn to do it. We'll defend the forest and the race against any humans that..." Rose's fur stood on end. She shook herself off and pried her tail loose with one hand, petting it. "Sorry. You're not the enemy. Just don't blame any problem you have with me, on the Lord. I can help you, too; I brought a message seed to send news to Great Oak and another to St. Wylan. If they hear you could use some help, maybe the Lord will act."

  Dominic said, "Please do that. It looks like we have the city mostly under control now."

  Rose took a large seed from a pack horse's bags, tugged a rolled-up paper out of a hole in the seed, and began adding notes to the page. The work seemed to calm her.

  Dominic looked to the guard captain. "I'm grateful for your help as well. You risked everything. You ought to be this area's Duke by western standards."

  Bastian said, "First, get Rose to look at the Seaflower. Then, see if Arend's army will join us now. I know some of those men and they don't deserve to die of thirst. Third, proclaim full religious liberty for those of the northern persuasion. That's the best you can promise me right now."

  "Of course. If Rose is willing to work on it." Dominic paused; she nodded. "I didn't hear anything about you wanting Arend's head on a pike."

  Bastian leaned forward in his chair and clasped his hands. "Prince, there are people in this world who don't give a damn about petty revenge or having the fanciest title. I'm with you because you seem to be one of them. Please give me the same credit. A duchy can come later, maybe, once things have settled down." His expression lightened. "Besides, it's presumptuous to be handing out cities before you conquer your second one."

  "I don't know the status of Torrin in our north."

  "I've gotten word that it's ours now. What 'ours' means seems carefully ambiguous at the moment; they declared themselves a 'free city' eager to open contact with our forces."

  "Good enough for now."

  "Want to add a personal note?" said Rose, looking up from her scribbling.

  Dominic coughed. "Greetings to Lord Veles from... Look, formality can come later too. Please just tell your Lord I'd like Him as an ally, maybe a friend."

  * * *

  It didn't occur to Dominic until after Rose let the message seed fly off, that by making that overture he was inviting in yet another religion. If the westerners' King-focused beliefs were basically right, he wondered, what sense did it make to let a completely different system show up? He said as much to Jakob when they had a few minutes alone. They were in a chilly stone office with a brazier and several desks. Dominic's pet otter and Jakob's wolf huddled by the fire.

  Jakob said, "There's only one set of beliefs we need to watch out for, and that's the people's loyalty to the Holy State. I don't think it matters if people are allowed to debate whether some ancient wizard is a god too. As for the northern totem spirits, I don't care."

  Dominic had been pacing. He turned to face Jakob, hands in front of him in a pleading gesture. "What happens when the people start killing each other over whether an ancient totemic otter god glows brighter than the Sun King or which would win in a fight against an army of squirrel priests? Some of these people don't want to be free. They want a master to promise to take care of them. They'll find any excuse to go back, and I'm using them as my pawns because of some set of prayers I learned while backstabbing the people who raised me!"

  Jakob's eyes narrowed, and he growled. "No. You're not allowed to back down now. People will follow you if you're confident
about what you're doing. If you're not, you're just a monster getting them slaughtered for no reason. Make up your mind."

  Dominic turned away from his gaze. "You're right. I've come this far with you. I just feel like I'm faking it."

  "So be sincere."

  "That spell I somehow cast back there. What do you think it was?"

  The other ex-Servant said, "Good news, at any rate. What was your state of mind when you did it?"

  "I was in battle of course. But... thinking about the need to do things right. To be a good ruler and not take out my frustration on the people I'm supposedly trying to help."

  "Better take that as a hint on what to do, then."

  Dominic hesitated, then grabbed a quill and paper so he could write a note to Jakob, for fear of listening ears. "The northmen taught me a seemingly useless spell, saying to keep it secret. I still don't understand its pattern, but I think I somehow used it. They said it would impress the westerners."

  Jakob's eyes widened. He stopped himself from speaking, and wrote. "You didn't mean to?" He looked up and saw Dominic shake his head. "Quite a trick. But you meant it well, I think. I would keep this hidden, at least until things are over."

  Dominic sighed, nodded, and burned the paper in the brazier. Then he shook Jakob's hand. "Thanks for listening. Would you like to be Prince instead?"

  "Don't even joke about that! I hear crowns are really heavy. Bad for your neck."

  Someone banged on the door. "Prince! Griffins! And they're asking for you."

  Dominic shivered and turned to leave, but Jakob grabbed his arm. "Wait."

  "It's not a good idea to keep griffins waiting."

  "No, this matters. I heard about that woman, Julia. This is the second woman you're leaving to rot in a dungeon. You did it out of spite, didn't you?"

  Dominic looked away, ashamed. He nodded slightly.

  "I don't know how it looks on the King's official virtue list, but it doesn't look good to me. You've trusted me for advice this far, and I say you need to do something different. Especially if you're going to live up to the standards of a Prince."