Void Legion

by Terry C. Simpson

  “Soon?” Setnana felt as if she had just been slapped in the face. “How soon?”

  “After the noon hour.”

  Nomarch Botros reached for the timeorb hanging from a chain around her neck. The dial was halfway to noon. She hissed. “You knew of this visit and did not inform me?” Something boiled within her.

  Citri threw up her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I was sworn to secrecy!” Her voice was shrill.

  “Secrecy?” Setnana repeated softly. “By whom? In Nif’s name, we’re supposed to be at war. Your people are currently destroying Niba. How do I explain this visit to the Coalition?”

  There would be no way for her to hide it as she had done with the five mystics. Exarch Bakui Assam might kill me for this. Well, I will not die alone.

  “An explanation by you isn’t necessary,” Citri said. “Exarch Aishani Chaten isn’t coming on her own. Exarch Bakui Assam is bringing her.”

  Setnana shook her head. “Exarch Assam is bringing her?”

  “Yes.”

  Information Memory provided Setnana with an objective: Meet the Exarchs at the Acropolis’ Aviary Landing.

  Setnana’s mind worked. Does he know about Aishani and I? About Perihy? About the mystics? He does not. If I were in danger, Aishani would have sent word by Communication Orb. Or a messenger.

  For the first time, she noticed the blue-white glow highlighting Citri’s too high cheekbones and thin lips, the ashen face, the sweat beading Citri’s brow, the whiff of piss, and the soft crackle in the air. She glanced down. Arcane lightning danced up and down her hands. She released her hold on aether. The glow vanished. The crackle cut off.

  As if she had not come within a heartbeat of taking Citri’s life, she said, “Return to Perihy.”

  “Thank you, Nomarch.” Wringing her hands, the grand kora bowed from the waist. She turned and fled down the hall.

  After the door to Perihy’s chamber closed, Setnana raced up the hall in the opposite direction, the objective filling her head. Although Exarch Bakui Assam knew she had been unaware of the visit, he would see her absence from his arrival as a slight. A failing. Incompetence. In his eyes, a person should expect the unexpected. I cannot afford his wrath. For Perihy’s sake.

  She exited the compound at the rear of the Temple of Nif and squinted at the gray murk above Aprunis, the sun a bleak blot within it. Scarlet banks swelled in the southwest like bloodied waves. There was no sign of the great beast-bird, the simurgh. Breathing a bit easier, she strode across the flagstoned courtyard toward the waiting lupines, making every effort not to run in the presence of her personal Battleguards.

  “We’re returning home. Exarch Assam is on his way.”

  “Yes, my Nomarch,” said Ihuet and Khafra as one.

  The three lupines perked up, tails wagging, as she and her personal guard approached. That she had brought Wenet instead of one of her other mounts was a relief. And a blessing. Wenet was as fast as he was magnificent, his mane a mixture of silver like lightning itself. Nif still smiles on me.

  Wenet got down on his stomach as she drew near, massive paws stretched before him. He regarded her with his head tilted to one side, gold and green eyes radiant, tongue lolling as if he anticipated the race to come. She climbed into the harness atop his back, stuck her feet into the bolsters along his flanks, leaned forward, and took a hold of the two grips braided into his mane. Wenet stood, towering some eight feet.

  “Yah! Home!”

  Wenet bounded forward, great strides taking him out the wide entrance to Nif’s Temple where the patron goddess’ statue stood in full cutthroat regalia, complete with a katar in each hand, the triangular daggers matching the insignia on the chests of Setnana’s Battleguards. Down the Circle of Vespers they galloped, unwary mystics scrambling from the lupines’ path. She glanced up at the square time tower in the heart of Aprunis upon which stood the Great Timesphere, the globe always rotating. It would be a close thing, but she would make it. She encouraged more speed with coaxing words and a kick of the bolsters.

  Soon, they were darting through streets filled with patrons of every shade, erada and non-erada alike, the lupines’ cracked bays giving warning. Wagons and carts pulled to the side. The roar of voices lulled as folks scattered. People looked on in consternation or annoyance. None of which mattered.

  Nomarch Botros left the Radiant Quarter and its numerous shops and pushed hard down Caligin Avenue and into The Obsidian Quarter, the black flagstoned road like a tenebrous river. Her trepidation eased when she was surrounded by the marvelous architecture of taverns and inns whose bricks were streaked with chips of volcanic glass.

  They rounded Caligin Avenue’s final corner where the long stretch through the Noble Domain began. Smiling, she breathed in the sweet fresh air, relished the cool wind against her face as it whipped her hair, billowed her cloak. The avenue slowly climbed, and at its crest rose the walls and spires of the Aprunis acropolis.

  The sprawling estates and walled villas with manicured gardens were a welcome sight. Laborers toiled in orchards. Here or there, a crevid grazed in a field, the males with horns so curled and majestic one might worship them.

  Flightmaster Wedjedhi’s oldest son, Ahmose, was out in a field working with his pet lupines under the tutelage of Wedjedhi’s beast trainer. She remembered when that was her and Papa. Before Adesh Hamada, Anefet Frost, and their Blue Sky operatives had killed him. She grimaced.

  The Great Timesphere gonged the twelfth hour.

  A simurgh’s high-pitched screech echoed. Another answered. A bevy of lower-pitched gurgling cries followed.

  No! A knot formed in Setnana’s stomach. She kicked the bolsters. “Yah! Yah! Faster, damn it, faster!” Wenet surged forward.

  One of the colossal beast-birds plunged through the solemn gray quilt above the acropolis, its furry feathers silver, white, and red. Whenever she saw the creatures Setnana always thought of a winged lupine some two hundred feet long with a wingspan to match. But she had no time to enjoy such magnificence. Three people were atop its back, and she knew the one in the middle would be Exarch Bakui Assam, the other two his personal guard. Another simurgh followed, similarly mounted.

  A dozen scaled drakes speared through the clouds, their calls trapped between gurgles and shrieks. Half of the drakes carried Azureguards. Blackguards rode the other half. Exarch Bakui Assam’s simurgh banked and circled on its final descent.

  Objective Ended

  Reach the Aviary before the Exarchs

  Fail

  Nomarch Botros deflated. She could hear the Exarch’s deep scathing voice, picture the disappointment etched on his violet face. Without hope of arriving before him, she was resigned to her fate. At least Aishani would be there to advise her on who had the power required to cure Perihy. In that, she took solace.

  And then, she frowned. All was not yet lost. Information Memory provided a way to remain in Exarch Bakui Assam’s good graces. She almost grinned as she considered his awed expression. And his words: “Bakui, just call me, Bakui, Setnana,” he would say while bowing and fawning to her.

  She rode up the tree-lined avenue and through the acropolis gates. Instead of dismounting there for the servants to take Wenet, she kept going all the way through the courtyard to the fortress. As she’d anticipated, Resena was waiting at the top of the stairs with six maidservants instead of the normal three. The seneschal and the servants shied away as Wenet took the stairs in a single bound and came to rest on the landing opposite them. He lay on his stomach, and she climbed down.

  “Hada!” Nomarch Botros gestured to the lupine with her palm out.

  Wenet trotted down the stairs and headed toward the far side of the grounds where the kennels were located. Khafra and Ihuet had dismounted at the bottom of the steps. Their mounts ambled after Wenet.

  Setnana took a look at he
r timeorb. Although Exarch Assam should already be on the ground, he would not be seen without his entire retinue. And he would make certain his simurgh was properly stabled. With the right distraction, the rest would take a little over a half an hour to land, stable the simurghs and drakes, and walk from the Aviary to the fortress. Just enough time.

  “Resena, we have some creamed mango cake, correct?”

  “Yes, Nomarch.”

  “Take platters of it and greet Exarch Assam,” Setnana said. “He finds it irresistible. And some red wine. His favorite is Kituan’s Kelsial Valley vintage.” The seneschal bowed. “Quickly. Use a wagon and intercept them at the Aviary. I need time.”

  Setnana glanced up. The second simurgh carrying Aishani was circling. The drake riders hovered above it, leathery wings beating the air.

  “The rest of you.” She regarded the maidservants. “Make me more beautiful.”

  With that, she swept through the great oak double doors. She strode down the carpeted hall and entered the changing room she had designed for times such as this. The room was well lit by way of bloomglobes imported from Kituan. She always thought the expense would come in handy one day.

  Mirrors adorned parts of the four walls and the ceiling. On one side were several gowns on wooden hangers. On the other was a table covered with various face paints, polishes, and powders. She indicated the dress she had in mind: a gorgeous piece in royal blue and white, offset with gems around the opening of the short sleeves, flared hem, and teasing V neckline. On her feet would be a pair of satin slippers. She ordered the servants to get to work.

  Not long after, she stood resplendent in her choices, turning this way and that, spinning to see the gown twirl where it flared at the bottom. I am the epitome of beauty. Flawless. The gown followed her curves just right, made her pale blue skin stand out in contrast.

  Her snow-white hair was done in a tight bun. Her elegant horns shone. And her face! It was as if she were already Kalarch, a definition of glory.

  She wanted to touch her face but resisted the urge. She spun once more to see herself from every angle, giggled, and headed to the door. A quick glance at her timeorb said the visitors should be nearing the fortress.

  She strode toward Khafra and Ihuet. The dementer and the stormcaller bowed before falling in line to either side of her. Head high, shoulders back, Nomarch Botros glided through the fortress, keeping her expression flat despite the gasps of servants and other visitors. Inside, she exulted at their adulation.

  They arrived at the rear entrance moments before the Exarchs. She ordered her servants to line up with fresh platters as was the custom, and she went outside to offer greetings. Chest up, she stood at the head of the two lines. The Exarchs were perhaps thirty feet away, striding through the courtyard with a full Battleguard complement in tow. She called for silence.

  “Remember to greet Exarch Assam the same moment I do,” she said.

  Her chest swelled as Bakui approached, his hands behind his back. He was dressed in all black: a jacket that fell to his ankles, one side buttoned from left breast to inches above the waist, the rest left open to reveal trousers and polished boots. Gold tassels adorned the jacket’s right side from the topmost button diagonally to his shoulder. Bakui’s violet skin glistened. And his horns. They were even more magnificent than she remembered, long and curved, as thick as a forearm, and practically glowing.

  Her palms grew sweaty. Her hands shook. She clasped them in front of her just below her belly, which fluttered like a schoolgirl.

  Calm yourself, woman. It was Papa’s voice in her head as usual. You are a Botros. We show no weakness. The weak have no place in this world. Any sign of weakness and the lupine will tear out your throat. She put on a dazzling smile.

  Time seemed to stretch as Bakui approached. Yet, she couldn’t help but to shoot a glance at Aishani Chaten. The woman was stunning in lavender offset by her creamy skin. The look more than made up for her ossicones. And then, Bakui was there, right in front of Setnana. She opened her mouth to offer a greeting.

  He looked right through her. And strode on by.

  She was left standing, her words stuck in her throat. She felt lightheaded. Her face, neck, and ears grew hot. She stared at his back.

  How dare he? This is not happening. He did not just–she could not finish the thought. She clenched her fist. Exarch Assam entered the fortress and his Battleguards blocked her view.

  Objective Ended.

  Impress Exarch Bakui Assam

  Fail

  She cursed the reminder and gazed at her servants, who all averted their eyes. She hung her head and trudged after the Exarchs. The failures were a weight on her thoughts. She was accustomed to success. The trip to the Grand Room was a blur, a flood of jumbled emotions she fought to control.

  As she walked, her shame grew to something else, something hot and red and terrible. Despite the knot in her belly, she refused to let tears come. She hated herself for even allowing the man to affect her the way he had.

  In her head, she repeated Papa’s mantras. Know who you are. Know your beauty. Know your worth. No one can take that away from you. Botros show no weakness. Strength always.

  She found her spine again. Even if it were less rigid than before.

  She made her way past Exarch Assam’s personal guard, who demanded that Khafra and Ihuet remain behind them. She nodded to the two Blackguards. Scowling their disapproval, Khafra and Ihuet stalked away, but she knew they would only go but so far.

  As she followed, she eyed Exarch Assam’s rather broad back, the slight hitch in his gait, the blemishes on the rear of his horns, the thinning of his hair. She smirked. The servants opened the door to the Grand Room. Exarch Assam waited outside while two of his personal Blackguards checked the room.

  Setnana scowled. As if I would allow harm to come to you under my roof.

  The guards returned and bowed to the man. He strode in first. Aishani followed. And then Nomarch Botros. The door closed with a thud. The Exarchs turned to face her.

  Exarch Bakui Assam’s hard blue-eyed gaze roved over her, but his face remained impassive. He seemed thoroughly unimpressed. Aishani’s thin lips formed a tight line, her green eyes pitying.

  Setnana was taken aback by Aishani’s thinly veiled disappointment. From the day they met she had been drawn to Aishani despite the old enmity between their races. Aishani was a kindred spirit, in her early twenties, a woman who could appreciate beauty, as was evidenced by her lavish red locks done in intricate braids, lavender dress, and buttermilk skin. Setnana doubted the day could get any worse.

  “I’m sorry I was not there to greet you upon landing, Exarchs.” Setnana dipped her head in a perfect imitation of an apologetic person of status. Not too much to seem a grovel. Just enough to satisfy. She thought of saying they could have sent word via a Communication Orb, but obviously their intention had been one of surprise. “I was investigating a report of Adesh Hamada here in Aprunis.”

  Exarch Assam spoke. “We’ll talk about Blue Sky operatives in a moment, but first, some news. You’re going to Maelpith Island.”

  Setnana opened her mouth to protest. To mention Perihy. His ailment. And immediately snapped it shut. Aishani’s eyes flashed a warning moments after Setnana had already decided. Exarch Assam cocked his head, gave Setnana one of his scathing looks, and then preened like a bird that his stare had silenced her.

  You can never tell him about Perihy, Setnana thought. Clinging to the small victory, she bowed from the waist. “Yes, Exarch Assam.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Nomarch Setnana Botros stood before the Exarchs with her head high and back straight despite how small she felt inside. Not once had Exarch Assam mentioned her absence from the Aviary. He directed his wrath elsewhere.

  “You were supposed to be in Niba to oversee our efforts before Exarch Ch
aten’s forces attacked.” Exarch Assam glowered at her from the chair he’d taken. One arm rested on the oak table.

  Setnana met the man’s hard eyes with an unflinching gaze. “As I said before, I received word that Blue Sky lieutenant, Adesh Hamada, was here in Aprunis.”

  “Was he?”

  “He had fled before we arrived.”

  Exarch Assam scowled. “As I said, you were to be in Niba. Those were my orders.”

  “I thought it best to remain far from the conflict,” Setnana said. “To avoid the Coalition blaming us for failing to defend Niba.”

  “You thought wrong,” Exarch Assam said in that grating voice of his. “Even the greatest commander makes mistakes. Any story we told the Coalition in response to a report would involve such an error. Or we could have simply blamed the failure on surprise. After all, the grand korae killed the sentries in and around Kirin Pass.”

  “In turn,” Exarch Aishani said, “My Kalarch would blame the renegades, General Asamar, Umesh Madara, and their Redthorns, for the invasion. Revenge on a town controlled by Blue Sky, whose members have once again begun raiding Coalition caravans and mining operations.

  “We would all be absolved. And this meeting was to be the sign that Puria and Khertahka were working on a peace treaty.”

  “But–” Setnana began.

  “But nothing.” Exarch Assam pounded the table with his fist. “Nif take you, woman. You were well aware of the importance of the mission in maintaining our pact with the grand korae.”

  “Yes, Exarch Assam. I apologize.” She kept her posture stiff and met his scathing gaze.

  As much as she wanted to point out the flaw in his reasoning, that the other Isfet Mountain sentries would have seen the grand kora army as it made the short journey across the Powder Grass Plains to Niba, she decided against it. Whether or not the Redthorns and their forsaken grand kora general or his second, the gurash outcast, Umesh Madara, were in the area was another story.

  “Luckily for you, the mission wasn’t a complete failure. We killed several high-level Blue Sky operatives, including one Anefet Frost, better known as the Hand of Freedom.”