by T. C. Edge
"We do not know yet," says Maximus, his expression grim. He shakes his head and scans the fort. "We split up yesterday morning and haven't seen them since."
"Split up?" asks Hendricks, in his usual curt manner. "Why?"
"We came across a town under attack some way to the northeast of here," Maximus explains. "We stopped and provided aid to the local people. We were on the trail of the Olympian convoy at the time, and Ares wished to stay with them. He left with Kira, Killian, and an Olympian soldier we took prisoner."
"But, left to do what?" asks Hendricks, frowning. "Were they still hoping to retrieve Brie?"
"No," Maximus says immediately. "We were not able to free Brie. Kira and Ares wished to reach Olympus for their own reasons. They had their own task and took to it immediately. We waited at the town and expected them back long before now."
Burns carefully scans the remaining troops. "And you lost others?" he asks. "Ares, Kira, and Killian make three. There are a further half dozen with you here. There were a dozen who left on your mission, Commander Maximus. That leaves three unaccounted for."
"I left three at the town," Maximus explains, quickly clearing things up. "To wait should Ares return." He turns to Crastus. "Captain Crastus tracked us there and informed me that you were setting up here in this fort. I wished to take a look for myself and see the troops. I will return to the others tomorrow morning to check on them. If Ares and Kira should reach them overnight, we have informed my men that we are here. They won't have trouble finding us."
"I see," says Burns. "That is fine work, Captain Crastus. Thank you for tracking them so quickly."
"I'll save that thanks until we have our commander back," Crastus returns, relatively grumpy in his tone. "Perhaps I should set out again further to the north in search of Ares?" he asks, looking to Maximus.
"We have sent out scouts already," Hendricks says. "They may well cross paths with Ares if he's on his way back to us."
"And, this personal mission of Ares and Kira's?" asks Burns, looking at Maximus. "Does this have something to do with Zander. With the connection that appears to have been forged between Brie and Kira's minds?"
I notice Crastus frowning, clearly out of the loop. Commander Hendricks has been informed by now of this rather mystical, mental bond between the two. The look on his face suggests he doesn't exactly believe, or trust, it.
"Correct, Secretary Burns," says Maximus. "Kira was able to communicate with Zander some way outside of the Olympian convoy as we took chase. She wished to see if she could do the same from outside the walls of Olympus."
Hendricks makes a sound of derision. "So that's why they left?" he huffs. "To chase up on some fantasy?"
Maximus turns to him with a stern, steely glare. "With all due respect, Commander," simmers his voice, "this isn't mere fantasy. I will not have you question Commander Ares or Lady Kira in their intentions. Do not confuse your ignorance for a valuable opinion."
Hendricks snarls at the comment, his eyes flaring. He stiffens up and takes a short, threatening step forward. Maximus doesn't move a muscle.
"Go ahead then, try it," Maximus says calmly. "If my words offend you, that is not my concern. Do not levy opinion on things you do not understand."
"I will have an opinion wherever I want," Hendricks returns with a growl. "I am the Commander of the New Haven City Guard!"
"Having an opinion is different to pushing it on others," Maximus retorts. He draws a breath, emptying his lungs slowly. "I respect your position and rank, Commander Hendricks," he continues, "but the truth of the matter is that the bulk of this force is Neoroman, and the reinforcements on their way are the same. This is our army more than it is yours."
The two men seethe at one another, seemingly about to face off. I haven't seen a great deal of Maximus, but his position among the Neoroman Imperial Guard would suggest to me that he'd have the edge.
As I've become used to, however, the presence of Secretary Burns helps to calm matters down. Stepping between them, he gently draws them apart, his composed words delivered with his usual authority and equanimity.
"This isn't a debate between whose authority means more, or whose army this is," he says placatingly. "We are in this together. To fight amongst ourselves weakens us. It will serve no one but the enemy."
He looks to them both, one after the other, to ensure that his words have been taken on board. To his flank, as though performing the role of bodyguard supreme, Perses stands tall and broad. A fight, I suspect, would be quickly put to bed were it to occur with him around.
"The truth is," Burns goes on, looking to Hendricks, "that the neural link between Brie and Kira's minds is real. As a telepath myself, I can confirm it. And the presence of Zander, though corporeally dead, is most certainly real as well." He looks to Perses. "Perses here has encountered him within the spectral realm. He can, we now know, travel between the minds of Brie and Kira upon this neural bridge. To do so, however, Brie and Kira need to be close in proximity to one another." He looks to Maximus. "This is what you have seen?"
Maximus nods, purposefully keeping his eyes away from Hendricks as he does. He might be smug, but isn't. I don't think he's the type for that.
"It is, Secretary Burns," he says. "Kira communicated with Zander as we tracked the convoy. Whether or not she has been able to do so from beyond the walls of Olympus, we cannot yet know."
"And when you say you were not able to free Brie?" Burns asks. "Was this...her own choice?"
Maximus nods. "We were preparing to get her out, and devising a strategy to do so. However, Zander communicated to Kira that it wasn't what Brie wanted. I believe she intends to try to work from the inside of Olympus."
Burns frowns thoughtfully, stroking his grey-stubbled chin. "A risky move," he says quietly. "She is powerful, yes, but I wouldn't imagine she has the strength to combat the Prime."
"She may simply have taken the decision to provide a conduit into the city," Perses offers. All eyes turn up to him, waiting for him to elaborate. "If Kira is able to communicate with Zander from beyond the city, then he will be able to inform her of what Brie is experiencing. This may prove useful, perhaps, in the days and weeks to come."
"Yes, possibly," says Burns. "How far is it from the outer walls to the heart of Olympus, Perses?"
The mighty Olympian thinks for a moment. I do the same, trying to imagine the distance from my own 'home' upon the hill, looking out to the mighty walls. I blurt out my own answer before he's able to do so himself.
"A couple of miles," I say. Everyone turns down to me. I look to Perses, shrugging. "About that, right?"
"Roughly, yes," he says. "I don't know the exact distance."
"Do you think Kira could link to Brie's mind from that far, Maximus?" Burns asks.
The Neoroman considers it, then nods. "In the right conditions, perhaps."
"But that would entail getting right up near the walls, wouldn't it?" asks Hendricks, rejoining the conversation. And, perhaps, trying to be less contrary. "I haven't seen it, of course, but surely their sentries would spot anyone getting in that close from a mile off..."
"True," nods Perses. "There is limited cover, and the towers and upper walkways on the walls are always manned with Farsights and other Sensors. Only someone as quick as lightning would stand a chance."
"Well, Kira is quick, but not that quick," says Burns. "Is there no other way to get close without detection?"
Perses returns to his thoughts once more. "There...might be," he says after a pause. "There are sewers beyond the city, fed into by the waters from the moat that surrounds the walls. She might be able to access those and get close."
"Then perhaps that's exactly what they have done," Burns says. "It still wouldn't explain, however, why they haven't yet returned. You say that Olympus is about two hundred or so miles from here?"
"More," says Perses. "Two hundred and thirty or forty, I'd say."
"But two hundred from where we were," Maximus says. "We were in a town so
me thirty or so miles to the northeast."
"Right," says Burns. "Either way, it shouldn't have taken them a day and a half, or more, to get there and back. They may yet be in trouble." He draws a breath. "Either way, there's little we can do but continue our own preparations, and hope they return soon, or that our scouts encounter them."
"I agree," says Maximus. "We will keep watch towards the north and wait for their return. Captain Crastus, thank you for leading the men in mine and Ares's absence. I would like a full brief from you soon on what happened during your trip."
"Of course, Commander," Crastus says.
"Then, if there's nothing else?" Maximus says, looking to the others, "my men and I need to catch some rest. It has been a long few days and we haven't had much chance to sleep. We could all do with a proper bed for a few hours at least."
"Certainly," says Burns. "I will have you set up with some private rooms in the main tower."
"Thank you, Secretary Burns," Maximus says. He looks to the rest of us, and then steps away with his men, Burns going along with them.
That leaves me with Perses and Hendricks, two men who haven't got on particularly well just yet. I suspect, though, that Hendricks doesn't get on with many people. Yes, difficult questions need to be asked sometimes, but he appears to relish in his own brand of negativity.
"I...ought to fetch a little more rest of my own," he says, performing what is obviously a false yawn. He looks to us both with an abbreviated nod before hurrying away.
Now, it's just me and Perses. My mind immediately wanders back to our last interaction last night, when my grandmother seemed intent on embarrassing us both. I glance at him, and then my eyes wander away. A strange awkwardness grips at the air as we stand, alone, in the courtyard.
"Soooo," I say eventually, "exciting start to the day, huh?"
I look into his grizzled face. I wonder if he's slept at all, given his habit to walk at night.
"Let's hope it's the most exciting thing you experience today, Amber," he returns, quite serious. "Are you all ready to leave?"
"The jeep's fuelled and ready to go," I nod. "We have a few weapons too, just in case. A rifle and pistol for Jude. And some Havenite armour as well."
"Good," he says. "Very good. Jude may need protecting."
"Don't tell him that," I say. "Male pride and all that. I don't think he likes the idea of being protected by me and my grandmother."
"No shame in it. You are both formidable." He smiles. "Does Jude have any experience with firearms?"
"He has a hunting rifle," I say. "Used it a lot back home. He's handy with other weapons too."
"I have heard he's a fine hunter," Perses nods. "I'm sure he can handle himself."
"He can," I say. "He's a fighter, and a survivor. You have to be when surrounded by us lot."
"Very true, Amber," Perses muses, his deep voice rumbling through the air. "I greatly respect those like young Jude. Those with no physical advantage are often the most mentally resilient. They find a way, and learn to survive. That is, perhaps, why you are as you are. You have spent most of your life powerless. It has given you a particular compassion and attitude, a unique way of looking at our world."
"And you're the same," I tell him. "You grew up normal, like I did. Maybe that's the reason you're the best of them. Maybe that's why we get along as we do." I take a breath and draw a small smile. Suddenly, I don't feel so uncomfortable. "My grandmother was right," I go on, my voice softer. "With what she said before. I...I do see you as a father figure. I know I have my own, but...you're important to me too. I...I hope that doesn't make feel you too awkward."
"Awkward?" he whispers. He shakes his head and steps towards me, bending down to my height. "It makes me far from awkward, Amber," he says. "It only makes me smile."
He draws me into a hug, his mountainous frame wrapping me up. His strong arms grip gently, though tight, his great heart thudding heavily, steadily within his chest. I feel tiny in his arms, yet more safe than I ever have. It is the sort of embrace my father would never give me. The tender hug of a man who has guided me, led me, and begun to love me as I am.
He stands again, releasing me to the world, as the sky above begins to brighten. And as it does, I turn to see my grandmother standing nearby, watching from the edge of the courtyard at the base of the castle, a contented smile upon her face.
She steps over towards us, Jude moving in behind her with a bag on his back. "It's time to go, Amber," she says. "Let's get a head start on the day. It may be a long one."
I leave Perses with a smile, the sort you'd reserve for those you see as dearest family and friends. And as we move towards our jeep, and Jude gets set to climb behind the wheel, my grandmother turns towards me.
"If only your real father was like him," she says, glancing towards the courtyard.
I wide my eyes. "Grandma. That's your son..."
"My son," she says, shaking her head. "A dutiful man, but ultimately a fool. He was never a great father to you, Amber."
"Grandma," I say, a little reproachfully. "He...he had his moments. He was just born into a system like everyone else."
"It's my fault really," she says, nodding. "I should have done more when he was younger. I should have told him the truth of my past from the beginning."
I raise my eyes. "You should have told me," I say. "Why didn't you?"
I look into her old, golden eyes. It's the question I've longed to ask since the Overseer revealed her past to me. Since I discovered that she was once of Olympus, one of the Chosen, a woman committed to the Prime.
Now, however, I ask it only idly. I think, deep down, I already know what she's going to say.
"To protect you," she tells me. "That's all it ever was, darling." She draws a breath. "I suppose that's why I never told your father either. I just let him grow up believing in false gods. I...I've made lots of mistakes in my life, but I hope I have time to make up for them. For some of them, at least."
"You do," I reassure her. "You already are."
She smiles as Jude, sitting in the driver's seat, ignites the engine, setting a chugging sound to the square.
"I think that's our cue, Amber," she says.
And with that, we step into the car and out of the chilly morning air, and set off on our way west.
140
The world ahead is flat and dusty, the jeep bounding along happily as it carves its path to the west. Here, and all across the Fringe, there are well enough travelled routes, those intended in particular for the passing of merchants from one town and region to the next.
Regular usage of the routes has created tracks, the earth flattened and modified to allow for the speedier transition of carriages, carts, and wagons. Motorised vehicles like the one we're in, however, aren't in use around here.
We use the well travelled paths on occasion, though tend to go off-road as well when the terrain allows for it. If we can remain unseen, then we will, not only from the few Olympian soldiers who may still be present in these lands, but from some of the local towns as well. As my grandmother informs us, while many have lost faith in Olympus, others remain steadfastly loyal. And with her notoriety growing, we'd prefer to remain undetected if we can.
It leads to some difficult moments, of course, when we pass nearby to towns and settlements in distress. The sight of plumes of smoke becomes an all-too-regular thing, though there's little we can do to help. Much as we might want to venture in and see if we can do so, our attention must remain towards the western reaches were our path is taking us.
The first hours are uneventful, our progress steady. Jude, growing proficient behind the wheel after an unsteady start - he does tend to take to things quickly - stays in command of the vehicle, despite my suggestions that he let me have a go. He denies me, with some vehemence, saying I needn't worry about such things when I should be acting lookout. In truth, I think he likes having control over something. It gives him some extra worth within our little troop.
We do swap p
osition occasionally, though, myself and my grandmother taking turns beside him, and sometimes moving into the backseat to sit together. It gives us all a chance to speak, and watch out for possible threats on the horizon. My grandmother, though ageing, still appears to have excellent eyesight, something I haven't known about before. Usually, she spots things before I do, noticing a distant cloud of smoke on the horizon, or the distinct shape of a nearby track that we could, potentially, use.
Her knowledge of the lands also proves useful. As she tells us, she spent much time around the Fringe when she was Chosen Fire-Blood, her powers making her a useful asset when it came to conflict and war. It's fascinating listening to some of her stories. The way she dealt with those Olympian soldiers in Hunter's Station, it seems, wasn't merely a flash in the pan.
"Oh, I've seen battle," she tells us. "Not to the scale of what you experienced to the south, perhaps, but more than enough for my lifetime. I was quite central in helping to expand the lands of the Fringe, many years ago. It wasn't so vast as it is now when I was one of the Chosen."
I frown, leaning forward from the back seat, resting my arms between the driver's chair and the passenger seat to the right, where my grandmother sits. Jude, hands gripping the wheel - in the correct position, of course - looks over to her briefly, seeming equally interested as I am.
"What happened?" he asks her. "Where there other people living here before?"
"Oh yes," nods my grandmother, "many others. There were several large communities across these lands, who'd been at war for some time. They had soldiers, even small armies, of their own, and some very effective warriors. We were tasked with expanding the territory of the Fringe, and wiping them out." She pulls a long breath into her lungs, turning her eyes out of the window. "We did awful things back then in the name of the Prime. Things I'm not proud of." She turns to look back at me. "I said you were the lucky one, Amber, to escape without so much blood on your hands. I spent years at war, killing for the Prime. And even now, I remember how good it felt at the time." She shakes her head. "That is their power. That is their...evil."
