by Dan Decker
My how time changes things, Nelion thought, she was mad when I enlisted with Korew and now she’s just as mad I didn’t become a lifer like her.
Nelion had expected that this is what the conversation would be about. Because she was a woman, Nelion hadn't been required by law to enlist in the Radim armies when she was of age, but that had meant little to her mother who had at the time of her birth had been a lieutenant in Verag Army. When Nelion had been old enough to understand such things, her mother had made it clear, that legal requirement or not, Nelion would be joining.
It had turned out that when Nelion’s seventeenth birthday approached, she wanted to enlist. It hadn’t been because of her mother though and she’d spent days agonizing over how to sign up without letting her mother think that she was getting her way.
With a woman like her mother, if she thought she’d won her point, it just encouraged her and she increased her effort to have her way in the future. On the morning of her birthday, Nelion had awoken early and made her way down to the Korew army base and signed all the paperwork. When she’d come home, her mother had worn a triumphant smile as Nelion had described what she’d done, up until the point where Nelion had mentioned she’d joined Korew army.
In less than half a heartbeat, the smile had been wiped off her mother’s face and a cold grim line that was covering a burning inferno of anger replaced it. Joining Korew instead of Verag was almost the same as not enlisting at all to her mother, maybe a little bit worse. Her mother had come to accept the choice and had tried to convince Nelion to take the oaths once her time was up.
“Not everybody wants to make general,” Nelion said, trying to force the transition into the inevitable conversation.
“What does Semal have you researching?” Her mother smiled, not taking the bait. The bird of prey was beginning its slow, winding descent; her eyes on a target that had nowhere to run. Her mother had a way of spending a laborious amount of time laying the groundwork for a specific point that she wanted to make. It was altogether tedious and methodical. By the end of any such conversations, Nelion found she had to resist the temptation to give into her mother just to end the discussion. She didn't want to keep the others waiting, but she wasn't about to let her mother know she was planning to spend much of the evening working on a side research project for Semal. So if it came down to it, she would have to endure another of her mother's painstaking conversations.
Nelion answered while doing her best to relax on the stone bench and let the conversation unfold. It wasn't until more than half an hour later that her mother came around to her point. By that time Nelion was trying to avoid looking at the sun while it disappeared below the Inner Wall. If she were to leave now, she might still be able to make her appointment on time if she ran. Running was something she wouldn't do while still in the sight of her mother, of course.
“A career in the army,” her mother finally said, “even if it is Korew, isn't something to be set so easily aside. You can go far with your archery talents.”
“The archives may or may not be for me,” Nelion said, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice, “but that doesn't matter. I'll look for something that suits me until I find it.”
“I've spoken with General Loepel and she offered to give you a promotion to Captain if you come back.” The smile on her mother's face was now more genuine and real than the one she'd given Nelion when she’d first sat down. At last they’d come to the reason for the visit from her mother.
Nelion didn't know how to respond. General Loepel had never been fond of her mother and the two had often spent time undercutting one another in whatever venue they found themselves. It must have been galling to her mother when Loepel had been promoted to General of Korew army while somebody younger and more junior had been promoted to General of Verag army over her mother.
If her mother had been willing to speak to Loepel, that would have involved the significant swallowing of her pride, a skill that her mother had never been good at. The fact that she was willing to do that meant something, and Nelion couldn't set aside her mother's sacrifice of pride. At the same time, she couldn’t let her mother manipulate her into something that she wasn’t certain she wanted. Maybe if she knew that the Hunwei were real and a threat, she’d feel different about things.
“If I had asked you to do that,” Nelion said knowing that she was walking on dangerous ground but pushing forward anyway. “I would appreciate the effort, but I have no plans to enlist again.”
Her mother’s smile disappeared as she stood and her tone became much sharper. “Loepel will need a decision within a week, after that, she'll have to fill the position. Give it some thought.”
Nelion stared at her mother, trying to keep the wonder off her face even as she could feel frustration welling up in her chest. She'd known that her mother had been disappointed when she'd decided not to take the oaths, but this was something altogether different and Nelion didn't know what to make of it, much less how to navigate it.
Once her mother had gone, she sat lost in thought, her mother's gesture warring against the feeling of manipulation that was growing larger by the minute. It was true that the archival work wasn't stimulating in the way that she'd hoped.
While she enjoyed doing research, there was a limit to the amount she wanted to do on any given day. But she also wasn’t ready to enlist again and take the oaths. This wouldn't be a mere three-year commitment, no this would be for at least twenty years, maybe longer if there was an active war when her retirement came up. Her mother's sacrifice was a significant gesture, but could Nelion give up twenty years of her life because of it? Because of a manipulative mother that knew the right buttons to push to get Nelion to bend to her will? If she chose to become an officer, there would be no looking back.
Nelion stood, resolving not to make a decision on the offer right away, even though she’d rebuked her mother for procuring it. When she’d taken the job with Semal, in addition to satisfying her own curiosity, she’d also been thinking of attending the university. Her best chance at getting in was to impress Semal enough that he'd write her a letter of recommendation. Now that she was getting bored researching all day, she wasn’t so sure about that path either. She pushed the decision to the back of her mind as she hurried off. Kyson and Semal would be wondering where she was.
Chapter 5
As Adar walked Slasher up the narrow stone ramp inside the Outer Wall, he noticed that the stone floor was clean. He was glad that the guards weren’t neglecting their duties to sweep, he had given orders that it be done at least twice a day but had half expected to find that it hadn’t been done in his absence.
He adjusted his collar as he walked; the temperature was warmer in here than outside. Several beads of sweat dripped down his face that he wiped away with the back of his hand. He felt a draft from the arrow slits that lined the walls and the murder holes in the ceiling, but it wasn’t enough to provide relief from the temperature.
He had never been able to decide if the slits and holes had been part of the original design or were added after the fact. Everything he’d learned about those who had come before indicated that they would have considered such defenses primitive and out of date.
Rarbon’s architecture and design were from a different era; if Semal was to be believed, a time from before the Hunwei’s first attack.
The Outer and Inner Walls, combined with the Rarbon Palace, were as impregnable of a fortress as Adar had ever encountered. Over the years, as some of the ancient technologies of their fathers had faltered and been lost, the city architects had done their best to replace what they could.
He couldn't help but wonder if the arrow slits and murder holes were one of these additions, what had been here originally? Once he got into the Rarbon Portal would he have access to those same weapons?
Don't get your hopes up, Adar told himself. Semal had been able to find no mention as to what was behind the Rarbon Portal doors and had cautioned A
dar that he should expect to find a library. This was why it was critical that he find his way in there sooner rather than later. If all that was there were ancient records on how to build the weapons of their fathers, they would need as much time as they could get to rebuild.
He noted that the smell of rot and body odor that had infected the inner corridor was starting to fade now with the regular cleaning. He doubted the stench would ever go away completely, but keeping the ramp and the connecting hallways free from debris and trash were a start.
He nodded at several of the guard passing the other way and received salutes in return. When he recognized that these were some of the same men that had been on duty the night that he and the others had started patrol, he frowned. Perhaps he’d been too hasty to think that his actions had been noticed and reported to others by a spy. It was common for men such as these to slip up, perhaps over a drink when off duty or to a lover in bed. That wouldn’t make it treason.
Melyah! he thought. Growing up with Abel as his father had made him too suspicious. Not everyone was out to get him.
At the top of the ramp there was a portcullis. On the other side, off to the left, was a room for the guards. Their chamber was long and right up against the outside of the Outer Wall with arrow slits that looked out onto the firebreak; this was how the guards knew when Adar and his men were approaching. There were guards posted on top of the wall as well and they had access to telescopes that gave them a more expansive view of the surrounding area.
The portcullis was in its normal half-up position so Adar had to help Slasher duck his head to go through. Adar was certain that this portcullis and all the others that had been installed throughout the city had not been included by the original builders because they broke from the general look and feel of the overall design. In some places, they appeared as though they could be pulled down with little effort. The one before him looked sturdy enough, but he didn’t put much faith in it holding off a determined foe for long.
The hallway at the top of the ramp was wider and lit with lamps every ten feet. There were also arrow slits and murder holes here as well. Adar hadn't had time yet, but he planned to have his men keep large barrels of oil at the top of the ramp. He'd also have smaller barrels kept on the floor above by the murder holes. He’d been surprised to learn that it hadn’t already been done.
Halfway down, the hall intersected with another hallway that circled the entire Outer Wall. This hall was double the width and had a portcullis on either side as well. On the left side was a staircase that went up to the top of the Outer Wall and on the right was a staircase that went down to the catacombs below the city.
The stairs to either side were wide enough that the Radim armies would run them in columns of four. Before any recruit could complete their training, they had to be able to make a run that took them to the top of the Inner Wall which was forty-five stories high, across a connecting wall to the Outer Wall, which was thirty-five stories, around the circumference of the Outer Wall and down again. They did this all while carrying a pack loaded with fifty pounds of gear and supplies. A recruit could not become a soldier until he could complete a lap.
When Adar came to the guard room on the other side he was glad to see that this station was now manned as well, but with fewer guards. Several nodded to Adar from the room as he passed but didn't try to speak with him. This room had arrow slits looking out into the courtyard. Slasher tossed his head and snorted, drawing the admiring eye of one of the men. A moment after that, Adar was past the portcullis here and down the ramp that led out into the yard.
When Adar had taken over the training grounds had reminded him of a farmyard both in smell and appearance. There had been several large piles of manure with many years of horse poop and it had been a long time since anybody had done anything about the stray cats, dogs, and chickens running around the place.
Rats had been a frequent site as well and Adar was surprised that his predecessor hadn’t tried to do anything about them. It was a wonder that disease hadn't been rampant among the Napael army.
Today was a different story, there wasn't a clod of manure to be seen anywhere on the extensive grounds. The dogs had all been rounded up and either put down or into training, and Adar had put a bounty on rats that had eradicated all but a few. The cats he'd left alone to help deal with the vermin.
He walked up to a group of new recruits and their training officer, Sergeant Stamer, called them to attention. Stamer stood before them as Adar walked around and inspected the uniforms, to ensure that everything was improving. Three weeks ago, when he'd inspected the clothing of this same group of men, he'd found them misshapen and disheveled.
Today, however, things were more organized though they still had a long way to go. He stopped before one soldier with a large bulbous nose and an even larger head. The recruit was a head taller than Adar and almost double in width. It took a second, but Adar remembered his name.
“Landal,” he said with an approving nod, “I see you've learned to wash your clothes.” The last time he'd seen the man, Landal had food stains on his shirt that had looked like the remnants of more than several days of meals and there had been a smell that was making others keep their distance.
“Yes, sir!”
Landal's sword was at the wrong angle on his back, he was missing a dagger, and a part of his shirt had come loose, but it was a start. At least the smell was gone. Adar didn't enjoy being a disciplinarian, but with an organization this big the only way anything would ever get done was if order and process were in place. Making a mental note to meet with Sergeant Stamer to discuss the lapses further, he gave everybody else an approving nod and continued on.
At the stable, Adar was met by a boy that took his horse. When he smiled at the lad, the boy ducked his head and took the reins. In his attempts to learn the kid’s name, the boy had thwarted his efforts by pretending not to hear. Apparently some of the rumors that had gone around about Adar had made it to the children.
It was an effort to keep the grimace off his face when Adar thought of the lies that were being spread about him. Deep within his chest the silent fury that reminded him that it shouldn't have been this way tried to rear its head and he squashed it down. Abel was behind many of those stories and had even generated incidents and evidence that seemed to back up the wild claims. What kind of father would do that to his son?
Adar couldn't blame the boy and the others like him that believed the worst stories, but Adar hoped to overcome the boy's fear.
With a few words to Slasher and instructions to the boy, he gave his horse a final pat and turned to leave when the boy started to say something. Adar looked back and the words died on the boy's lips, his eyes frozen with terror. His face was still chubby, but that wouldn't last for long because he'd been gaining height, even in the short time that Adar had known him.
“Less than half the rumors you hear have a grain of truth.” Adar snorted. “Those that do are so far beyond the mark they might as well be about somebody else.”
“My ma says you believe the Hunwei will come back,” the boy blurted out. “That true?”
“Our fathers planned on it. Why do you think we have so many armies? Spend so much time training and keeping at the ready? They knew something and did their best to pass it on to us though many—too many—have forgotten.” Adar had even heard that there were still some that were hoping for the Hunwei to return because they believed the Hunwei would come to help them. When he'd first heard of such foolishness, he'd dismissed it out of hand, but the stories still turned up. Semal had wondered if those that believed them were still around.
The Kopal—a hidden organization that had been eradicated more than a decade ago—were believed to have that as a central belief. It had never been confirmed because none of their members had ever been brought in alive for questioning because they’d managed to commit suicide before capture. Adar had seen the masks that they’d worn in the Rarbon Palace archives, where
they were on prominent display. He’d also reviewed a record that documented what little was known of them.
The boy shook his head. “What do we do?”
It was a good question and for once Adar didn't have a ready answer. If the boy would have been older, he would have encouraged him to get his parents to let him enlist ahead of his requirement.
The question also brought with it the reminder that only Adar could gain access to the Rarbon Portal because Abel had failed to pass the trials. Perhaps his father's failure was a partial explanation for his feelings towards Adar, but it wasn't enough to explain the pure vitriol and hatred that Adar had to put up with from his father.
Adar was thinking of another response to the kid when someone behind him cleared his throat. When he turned, Adar didn't know the soldier's name but he recognized him as one of the soldiers that had been on guard at the gate earlier. The guard was tall and had a face scarred by burns.
“What’s your name?” Adar asked, he’d been making a point of learning as many as he could. For the people that he saw regularly, he intended to call them all by name.
“Jarren Alfaro. We made a mistake. There’s a warrant for your prisoner. Keen missed a new poster that just came in.”
Adar frowned. It wasn't like Keen to forget or miss a warrant. “Doesn't sound like him.” Unless Keen was the spy. It wasn’t hard for Adar to imagine him selling information for money. It had been a mistake for Gardison to allow the lad to enlist.
Jarren shrugged. “All I know is that there is a warrant for your man from Lieutenant Briggs.”
“Haven’t heard of him. What army?”
“Paroke.”
Adar's frown deepened at the mention of Paroke Army and he had to keep from reaching for his sword hilt where it rose above his back. General Helam Morgol’s army.
