Solomon's Exile

by James Maxstadt

  At first, the other Towering Oaks commanders didn’t want to believe her. Not about Jamshir, not about the Soul Gaunts, and certainly not about Jediah being taken into the Rustling Elms tree. But they all knew her, and knew her to be steady and reliable, if hot-headed at times. Before long, even the most incredulous of them had come around.

  “So what now?” was the most prevalent question.

  “There is one more piece of news that Shireen didn’t give you,” Lawrence said. “And it’s the one that I think will end up dictating our actions now. You know that Solomon has returned. But what you don't know, is that he's gone to retrieve his sword. With that, we may have a chance.”

  Shireen sat back, waiting for the commotion to die down. All of them here knew Solomon’s worth, and knew that with him on their side, a situation that seemed hopeless suddenly seemed less dire.

  “We need to buy him time,” she said, when the room had calmed down. “I don’t know when he’ll be back, but it can’t be long. I think that when Jamshir sees him, he’ll be a lot less eager to attack. Even if he wins, he knows that having Solomon here tips the odds in our favor.”

  “It won’t stop him, though,” Lawrence said. “Solomon is Solomon, but he’s still only one man. Jamshir won’t be deterred.”

  “No, but it’s our best hope right now. That and trying to get word to Whispering Pines.”

  “Then we meet with Jamshir and try to keep him talking. In the meantime, we send out a scout. Someone who can maybe slip through and get to Whispering Pines. The more time we buy, the better.”

  There were nods around the table, but Shireen saw a lot of doubtful expressions as the commanders went to round up their troops, and ready them for a coming battle. She hoped that they were able to put braver faces on then, and wished she had time to go see Orlando before she walked into a possible lion’s den.

  “Let’s go,” Lawrence said to her. “I don’t want to be late and give him any excuses.”

  They were the first to arrive in the pavilion, a white open-sided tent, exposed to the views of both armies. A small table had been set up with two chairs on each side. Servants of House Glittering Birch stood to the side, bringing Lawrence and Shireen cups of cool wine when they entered. Lawrence looked down at his and then set it on the table. Shireen followed suit.

  “You don’t think he’d…”

  “After what you’ve told me, I put nothing past him.”

  They didn’t have the chance to get any further before Jamshir entered, followed by one of his generals, a truly huge man, tall as the Folk always were, but broad of shoulder also. He glared at the two Towering Oaks soldiers while he pulled a chair out for Jamshir. Shireen couldn’t imagine Jediah expecting, or even allowing such a thing, and struggled to conceal the disdain she felt from showing on her face.

  Once Jamshir was seated, the general took his own, as did Lawrence and Shireen. The servants brought cups of wine for the new arrivals and then withdrew. Jamshir laughed as he noticed their cups still untouched on the table, and then took a long drink himself. “If I wanted you dead,” he said, “I’d simply have Bragnold here sound the attack.”

  “I don’t think that would go as easy as you’re implying,” Lawrence replied. “What’s more, I don’t believe you really think that either.”

  “Ah, Jediah,” Jamshir mused, swirling the wine in his cup. “He cultivated an environment of bluntness, didn’t he? But I’ll be the bigger man and ignore the rudeness so we can get on with this.”

  Shireen was watching the ruler of the Greenweald with unease. This was wrong. He had to know that they would try to get someone to Whispering Pines, and even if he was confident that his men would find and stop them, why take the chance and spend this time? Why not simply attack?

  Lawrence inclined his head, indicating that Jamshir should speak first.

  “Thank you,” the ruler said, mocking the politeness. “I suppose it is only right that I air my grievances first, as the injured party.” He took a sip of his wine. “Now, as I stated earlier, Jediah is guilty of treason and sedition, and as such his House is forfeit. I’m sure we can both agree on that as a starting point.”

  “I’ll agree that you said it, not that there’s any truth to it.”

  “Hmm,” Jamshir pursed his lips. “That is too bad. You might have been my choice to replace him, but I can see that you’re still misguided and loyal to him. How about you?” This last was directed at Shireen.

  He gazed at her with apparent laziness, as if the answer didn’t really matter to him. But she saw the gleam in his eyes as he stared at her, and she realized what his motivation here was. If he could get even one of them to turn his revenge on Jediah for any imagined slight would be so much sweeter. It wouldn’t be her.

  “I respectfully decline,” she said between gritted teeth.

  Jamshir threw his head back and laughed, while his general smirked. “Of course not. Very noble of you both. And really, I expected nothing less. Here’s the thing, though. You’re already doomed, you just don’t know it. You all are. First this House, then Whispering Pines, then any others that dare to put themselves above my own House.”

  Lawrence had a look of absolute horror on his face. For him, it was the first time he had heard Jamshir be so openly derisive of their House, or any other. For her, she had been expecting it since he first came to the gates.

  “But…that’s…you’re our ruler, Jamshir! And House Towering Oaks has never been anything but loyal. To you and your father.”

  “Don’t talk to me about my father!” Jamshir screamed, spittle flying from his lips. But as quickly as the outburst came, it ended. “Yes, Towering Oaks was loyal to my father, there was no doubt of that. Loyal to the point that he began viewing Jediah, and even that fop Florian, as his real sons. Worthier than I to rule the Greenweald, certainly. Well, we’ll put those thoughts to rest soon enough.”

  “You’re insane,” Shireen whispered, which earned her a sharp look from Lawrence. Jamshir on the other hand seemed not to have heard her, while General Bragnold ignored the comment.

  “Jediah has been plotting with Florian for weeks now to take my place. Oh, he turned his house into a mighty force, there’s no doubt of that. Almost as mighty as my own. Almost. But he never realized that there were other forms of power. Forms that even Florian and his whisperers and spies knew nothing about.”

  “The Soul Gaunts,” Lawrence said, the disbelief evident in his voice. “You brought them here.”

  “Of course, I did. Not me personally, but others in my service, another resource at my disposal. They were the ones who made the contact and now control the vile things. And they’ll continue to do so, until I’ve removed my enemies within the Greenweald. Then, I’ll be free to concentrate on those outside our borders. To keep us safe from those who would do us harm.”

  “The Hairy Men,” Shireen said. “That was you, too?”

  “Beasts, little better than animals. They’re no great loss and don’t pretend otherwise. But they served a purpose. They allowed my servants to learn how to best control the Soul Gaunts, perfect their methods, if you will.”

  Through all of this, Shireen still felt that something was wrong, beyond the obvious paranoia and madness of Jamshir. Beyond the fact that he had an entire army that still followed his command. Beyond even the fact that he had allied himself with one of the worst enemies any of the Folk had ever faced.

  She gasped audibly as she realized what it was. She leapt out of her chair, and ran to the edge of the pavilion, looking up, her heart thudding in her chest. The sky was beginning to darken. Soon it would be night time, and then…

  No one else had moved when she did. When she turned back, Jamshir was smiling at her. “Yes, it’s getting late. They’ll be on their way soon. And then, we won’t even have to lose any of our own good people. Isn’t that right, General?”

  Bragnold nodded sharply once, but continued to stare straight ahead.

  “How can you do this?” Sh
ireen said to the General. “How can you follow a madman who would unleash our worst enemies?”

  “Don’t bother,” Jamshir yawned. “Bragnold here was always loyal. To my father, and to me, but mostly to the Greenweald. He’s so rigid that I’m surprised he can bend to sit, but his men will follow him anywhere. It really wasn’t so hard for my servants in the hidden House to turn him into a more…. shall we say, compliant?...soldier.”

  “The hidden House?” Lawrence said.

  “Ah, that’s right. You wouldn’t know. Yes, House Subtle Hemlock has served me well. A small House, but powerful in ways that quite frankly disturb even me. They do well from the shadows, where their methods and magics don’t offend those who don’t understand. Like Jediah, for instance.”

  “And you trust them? After giving them control of the Soul Gaunts. You’re a bigger fool than I thought,” Shireen said.

  Jamshir looked at her coldly, his face stiffening. “Perhaps I’ll ask them to make sure you survive what’s coming. Then you can really see who the fool is. I’ll let you watch as they kill everyone you care about, and then go through to that other world.” He relaxed and smiled at her once more. “That was the promise, you see. They serve me, and they can have that world without interference.”

  He paused to drain his wine cup.

  “But enough of this. My generous offer of peace has been rebuked, and most rudely. The General will attest to that. We have no choice, regrettably, but to take House Towering Oaks over. I imagine you’ll want to put up a fight. Pity. Now, you may return to your hovel, and pass the remaining time as you would. But you have my solemn oath, if any of you try to leave before darkness falls, you’ll be taken, and what the Soul Gaunts would do to you will look like a kindness compared to what I will do.”

  He stood and dashed his cup to the ground, General Bragnold doing the same a moment later.

  “There, now it looks as if you’ve said something rude to me.” Jamshir smiled. “Thus do I serve those who would take what’s mine. Be assured however, you’re only the first.”

  He strode from the tent, leaving Lawrence in stunned silence.

  “Come on,” Shireen said, shaking his shoulder. “Snap out of it. We need to make a plan. The Soul Gaunts will be here soon.”

  Lawrence looked at her. “How? What plan?”

  “I don’t know, but we need to come up with something. Jamshir was delaying us, waiting for nightfall. Fine. It worked in our favor too, though. Every minute we hold off, is another minute for Solomon to get here.”

  CHAPTER 54

  His hand hurt, but that was good. It gave him something to concentrate on. Something other than the screams that his cousin had made. Or, what they were going to do to the human, Luke, even after he had told him that coming here was his best chance for survival. It did remind him of what he had done to Willow, but he was trying not to think about that. Instead, he was concentrating on the immediate. His hand hurt.

  He had the run of the tree at this point, and the Soul Gaunts stayed away from him. The stone that he carried gave adequate light for him to see, although there wasn’t much that he wanted to look at. You’ve seen one rotting piece of furniture, you’ve seen them all. The thought brought a slight giggle from him, that threatened to turn into something else, so he shut it down and turned his attention back to his hand. It hurt.

  If truth be told, he was wandering the tree, looking for any sign of Jediah. The Head of House Towering Oaks had been taken along with Florian, but Thaddeus hadn’t heard any screams from him. Jediah was tough as steel, there was no doubt about that, but even he would break eventually. Maybe they were saving him for something else, but that was something he didn’t want to think about either.

  Without conscious thought, he wandered back to the room that he had been held in when he first came here. The Rustling Elms house member was still hung on the wall, his condition markedly worse than the last time Thaddeus had seen him. Either the smell was gone or he was getting used to it. Either way he wasn’t sure what it said about him, that he could stand here in front of such horror and feel nothing. Nothing but the throbbing pain in his hand.

  “There you are.” The voice of the Advocate came from behind him. “What are you doing?”

  Thaddeus shrugged. “Visiting old friends, I guess.” He didn’t turn around.

  The Advocate laughed briefly. “Old friends? I like it. But enough of that. Come with me.”

  “Where?”

  “Wherever I say.” Now the voice had changed, grown colder and less patient. Thaddeus knew when to push his luck and when not to.

  They climbed the stairs to the upper levels of the tree. Soul Gaunts flitted around, passing them in the darkness, lurking in passageways. But when they had gone up a few more levels, the tree changed.

  It was no longer rotting and the windows let the sunlight in. It was as if the realm of the Soul Gaunts ended at the level below, but up here, the normal opulence of the main tree had been allowed to remain.

  “Ahhh,” the Advocate sighed, and pushed his hood back onto his shoulders. “That’s better. I get tired of all the dark and disgust. Don’t you?”

  Thaddeus had a hard time finding his voice. He looked everywhere as they walked along a hallway and entered into a fine sitting room, with clean, comfortable furniture. There was even a bowl of fruit, ripe and wholesome, waiting on a table. The Advocate reached out and grabbed a piece as he walked by, before flopping down into a chair.

  “Help yourself,” he said. “And stop looking around like a fish out of water. What did you expect? That I lived with those things? Of course, I don’t. Could you?”

  Thaddeus made his way to a chair and sank into it. The change in the Advocate was profound, and not a little disturbing. Where before he had appeared cold, pitiless and in control, here he appeared almost…normal.

  “I don’t understand…”

  “No, I imagine you don’t. But you will. You’re smart. Which is why we’re having this talk. Are you sure you don’t want a piece of fruit? Wine, perhaps?”

  “Wine. Yes. Wine would be good.” He knew that it might not be the smartest thing, to drink alcohol in his current mental state, but at the moment he was finding it hard to care.

  The Advocate grunted, got to his feet and went to the sideboard where he poured two glasses of a deep, red vintage. He handed one to Thaddeus and retook his seat.

  “Now, where should I start? I don’t suppose you have any idea of who I am? What House I belong to?”

  “You said you didn’t have a House. That you were a lone scholar, studying the Nightwinds.”

  The Advocated laughed. “Nightwinds. Did you like that? I came up with that on the fly. Pretty good, I thought. They’re Soul Gaunts. Always have been and always will be. And you were all right. They are nothing but evil, distilled down into a moving, living form.”

  “Then why?”

  “Why? Why is the wrong question, at least for the moment. We’ll get to that. I take it from your lack of response that you don’t know about my House. Have you ever even heard of House Subtle Hemlock?”

  Thaddeus shook his head, sipping at his wine in an attempt to hide his confusion. He knew all the Houses, all their strengths and weaknesses. He had been in them all at one time or another, ferreting out secrets in case his cousin needed them. He’d even been inside Glittering Birch, albeit briefly. There was no Subtle Hemlock. He would have known if there was.

  “I’m both pleased and disappointed that you haven’t heard of us. Pleased because that’s how we like it. Disappointed because as someone who’s going to become one of us, I had hoped you were onto us already. That’s alright though, very few ever are.”

  “Become one of you? I can’t, I’m Whispering Pines…” He was still reeling from the revelation of the uninjured parts of Rustling Elms, the change in the Advocate and the news of a hidden House.

  “True, but we’re not like the other Houses. You’re not born into Subtle Hemlock, you’re brought into
it. Usually by one of us who has some interaction with you, but occasionally by simply being outstanding in some way.”

  Thaddeus didn’t ask which he was. “I still don’t understand. Who do you serve? I mean, why are you doing this with the Soul Gaunts?”

  “As for who we serve, we serve ourselves. Although at the moment, Jamshir thinks we’re serving him. It fits our purpose to let him think that. He’s planning on using our control of the Soul Gaunts to remove those he thinks are his enemies. In return, he’ll help us move into the other earth. Again, or so he thinks.” He stopped and sipped his wine. “Care to guess what’s really going on?”

  “You’re not working for him?” Thaddeus said weakly.

  “No, we are, but only because it suits our purposes. We’ll send the Soul Gaunts out and wipe out House Towering Oaks tonight. Your old house will go soon after. Then, we’ll help Jamshir eliminate anyone else he feels needs it. But the whole time we’ll be consolidating our power, of course. We’ve already got control of his top general, which Jamshir thinks is for his benefit, when really, we can turn him to our side whenever we want.”

  “For what purpose though? To rule the Greenweald yourselves? Who is your Head of House that would take Jamshir’s place?”

  The Advocate laughed again. “We don’t have one. We have a council that makes decisions and gives us direction. As for the purpose, it’s all about knowledge and power. We know now that we can control the Soul Gaunts, and there are other equally horrible things out there. Can we control them as well? Who knows? But we’re off to a good start.

  And the knowledge in that other earth! They don’t have the magic of the Greenweald, no, but other things? Weapons that kill from a distance, that turn the very air poisonous, or sicken their foes in mass quantities. We can do all that too, of course, but for every move we make, there is someone like Willow that can counter it. But. If we take over that other earth, there will be no stopping us.”