I walked off, even while listening, to the window that stood off against one wall. Silver light came from it—not so bright for nearing dusk. This room was almost to the peak of Nain's palace. The rooms were all above the great-throne room, below, that place where I'd once been shoved down before Lox.
Lucian mentioned how we shouldn't depart without our match, first and foremost, tomorrow. It was our responsibility to be sure they were well and present. That meant that I would depart with Gael. Yurei didn't like lightning bolts so much as fire-breath; but I still didn't know whether this was because of his inferiority in it, to Luffie. She liked to think so. I thought more, that it fit his character, and hers. He was warm and steady. She was the great and sudden fury. I could see where they were now, out the window.
In their occupation here, Akadia had turned great buildings to warehouses—where they might keep their spoils, or tend to their wounded. I myself, had been inside one for a time, chained beside the man Rabaus, a Selkian strategist—one whose fate I'd never learned of. Lox had meant to make him one of his underlings, I knew—shining there inside a color he chose. But Rabaus would not have done that. He'd likely died... But now, here, the largest warehouse was being used for the chimera to rest in; lit within with fires, that would remind them or their volcano. Luffie's mind was calm in her sleep, and I knew she was near enough to Yurei to share his warmth.
Other warehouses had been used for the Tortoises, but they were off now. I could see them beyond the city walls—just those last ones being led by their rulers. A group of Byakoans were with them, I could see a line of white and black (The keepers of the White Tigers ever saw themselves fit to escort forces going off to the battlefront, since, they were the "strongest, fastest on foot, and with the most persistently strong stamina, and the best ferocity should the Akadians launch a surprise attack, as well as with the best sense for danger"). Still, there were many White Tigers left here as well. Much of the city of Karatel had been flattened, and for the winter, there were many wide spaces of stone, or half-crumbled buildings, though most of this had been cleared by Nain in his weeks since returning. Forts of racks and tables for weapons had been set about all around the streets. Katellians tended them. Forges blazed about, ready to sharpen blades, or arrows, or repair armor. Minstrel had set himself up in one of these as soon as he'd come. I didn't expect to be able to spot him from so high, but there, I did, with a spattering of soldiers nearby; a group of Echrians, standing with their birds on hand.
Lucian said that he and Estrid would be the last to leave Karatel. Minstrel was not alone. He was standing there, with a sword in hand— measuring it out while it flickered with golden light that contrasted the surrounding greyness. Cole stood in front of him, arms crossed, but with one hand stuck out in a way that told he was gesturing to Minstrel's weapon. And I was sure that they were talking. One first, then the other. I'd thought, that Cole would have been gone now to rest—he'd told me that he needed to. That was why he wasn't present with me any longer.
Last I'd seen him from the throne room, down below us, not hours ago. We'd been half a day at the meeting, our final meeting, with all the rulers. Karatel's throne room was perfect, since, it was clean slate marble, and undecorated—with the opening at the front letting in fresh air. Though it was cold air, the number of present persons was such that it tended more for overheating, than chilling. There were the Genbuans, at the front, left to the throne. Kurma, Sheeta, Tongon, another Vishnuite named Horrus, even older than Tongon. Tox and Portos, who I'd learned well by now between. Grim-expressioned Tox was Raand. The thinner Portos was Jaxom. Tarful stood beside them, and waved to me whenever I looked by him.
To the other side of the throne were the Echrians, and while the Genbuans had shuffled into the space for complaints of the heat, the Echrians—mainly Carceron, had moved there to be on key with the Genbuans. It had started out... a fine camaraderie between them, on identification between their animals. Horrus, Tongon, and Carceron, with his strategist Vorsen, had at least been getting about fine.... But then when Kurma had entered the mix; well he and Carceron had gone on too much riddling with each other, hadn't they? Until it had become quite a contest of riddles, until they'd both begun to make so little sense, they weren't even speaking their words in order any longer. Sheeta hadn't been much better, assisting Kurma half the time, then pattering on with Carceron in a way that made me watch after Leddy to see if she'd take offense. But she hadn't. She was rather above all those riddles; as great as a distance I'd ever seen between she and Carceron, there was. I decided then that they were more like siblings than lovers, though her intolerance at his posturing was all read by me in feeling more than anything, since, as far as her behavior went, she did very little. So little that I wondered why she was present. She stood aside from the other Echrians, with her bird perched close atop a torch-handle, and her hair fierce red like fire itself. Her eyes, were for me. Or for the Warriors, perhaps, standing round me. I wasn't sure, but it seemed they flicked for only short minutes onto whoever spoke, and then longest in my direction.
At the center before the throne, stood Nain in a crown and his princely dress-robes, then Selkie behind him, some of the time, some not—her clothes easily accentuating her pregnant state in the room of armored individuals. Then, there the Selkians closeby them, as (in their white robes, and golden bangles; others in thicker armor) they'd formed quite a partnership, those weeks Nain had spent there with them. There was one, Antares he was called, who was one of the heads of the largest tribe. He and Nain stood close almost always.
Apart from them, whoever spoke in announcement went there before the throne, near the large round table set with maps and battle plans (a great, wide drawing: accurate to the smallest form of Akadia, provided in part by Amalia, in part by our spires, in part, even by drawings which Cole and I had found in our studying).
Then there were the Democedians, to the right between pillars. There were so very many of them, in their dark greens, and blackish armor—those five brothers of the original six. Perhaps it was for this reason, that they kept frighteningly fierce frowns. Not like the presumptuous rapture they displayed at celebrations for victories, suggesting who should marry whom, or ally with whom, or what battles should or should not be fought; these five and their staff (which wasn't small) might have been presumptuous only in assuming they were the most strict in observing the speaker, and playing their role properly.
There were the Byakoans, not different than this, opposite to them.
What could be said of them? other than telling that theirs was the only Granted Animal which was residing within this throne-room, apart from the Vermillion Birds. It had been because of those fire-birds, that they had brought them. "Look, the Echrians have brought in their birds as well," my old sword trainer had said to Cheng, his Byakoan leader. "The Constellation Animals must be invited," they'd decided. "Call in San Tzu!" Which was the name of Cheng's White Tiger, and there he stood behind them; while Cheng, and those near dozen generals he had, made up at least as large a crowd as the Democedians, with just as firm of expressions.
I was simply glad, that Tongon had dissuaded Kurma's near attempt at bringing in one of the Tortoises—whose names, he hadn't even known a one of.
The Ghaunds were looking, more than anyone else, displeased to be there. And in a way that I couldn't put my finger on, were most resembling Cole in stance and attitude. They stood cornered to the Echrians. I thought it was intentional, since the Ghaundian leader ducked his head whenever Carceron looked by them—as if it was his simple way of telling thanks for all the assistance the Echrians had given. But mostly, I thought that the Ghaundians should not have spared their forces at all. I was grateful for them, but they didn't quite appear as if they would have disagreed about their presence; I could see their concern for the simple state of their homeland.
As for the Yanartians, and all of our force from the Isle, and even from those lands surrounding, we were represented by the Warriors. Myse
lf, of course, Estrid, Lucian, dozens more, (not Gael, for he was, even now training, and I was meant to fill him in along afterwards); then two strategists, one from the far southeast, a place with a name difficult to pronounce it had so many consonants, and then one from Parivil, who'd I'd met before. They were both men who'd helped greatly in training the regular recruits back on Yanartas.
Cole was there as well. Cole was just to the side of me, a little behind. Cole was who I felt I watched the assembly through. Perhaps it was that I'd been so long bonded to Luffie whose vision I could see. In this place of strategizing, in these meetings, with so many here, and so many because of myself, it was easier not to be looking on with my own eyes. Especially when I was needed to speak—which I often was in helping to temper relations—it was best to see myself through Cole's eyes, a princess of Shaundakul, the sole representative of a species, the dragons, saying what she must.
"No, no, they're sure to be there," Prince Vartus, of Democedes was saying, "Didn't you listen at all to the reports of the Ghaund's? Certainly, it would have been nice to hope the goblins wouldn't be present, but so they've gone from attacking the crags. We've seen them in the skies above the northern plains here. They're without doubt headed towards Akadia—if they're not there already."
"But our spies haven't spotted them," someone said.
Prince Vartus, along with Lucian and Baraduce, were at the center of the throne-room, near that table of maps. It had been Baraduce and Lucian going over the last of the instructions for the heads of each particularly portion of the army, when it had come up whether we would use that strategy planned for the presence of goblins, or that one which meant Akadia's force would be fully earthbound. This was absolutely the only issue undetermined; and we'd been waiting until this last conference to conclude. Now, with mixed signals, something that should have been simply known was proving difficult.
"Wouldn't it be better, to plan for the Wyverns to be there, and find they aren't, then the other way around?" one of the Ghaundians mentioned.
Baraduce rubbed his jaw. "Yes, only it would mean the loss of strike towards Akadians special weapons forces. It's the Echrians' fire-birds that would be assigned for the wyverns, since, the chimera's lightning ability will prove too affective against the armored soldiers to spare elsewhere. But if the fire-birds are pressed to watch for wyverns—the chimera killing crossbows—not to mention others which Lox may have created—will not be so swiftly destroyed."
It was Carceron who responded to this, just as I was carefully watching Baraduce, wondering that he could speak of the chimera killing weapons so calmly—when they had taken Ceras. I supposed it had been many months since then though.
"The Zuque know whether there will be wyverns or not," Carceron spoke solemnly. "They will attack both the weapons and lesser animals at once. Their endless fire will be set upon the wyverns, wings, and upon the Akadians' metal."
"That's if the Wyverns are there," a Ghaundian said.
"Still, we must decide on a plan," Baraduce spoke out clearly. "Whether you can manage them or not, alone, it must set beforehand."
"And, Lord Carceron, if you please," Kurma added, "It isn't "the Zuque." We thought the princess had explained it to you. Zuque is your granted animals' forefather—not the name which they themselves should be given."
Carceron made that noise, with a flap of his elbows, like a squawk more than a scoff. "Zuque, Baihu, Xuanwu, Qinglong. The princess has shared your opinion with us, as I have heard it from your Xuanwu-ites—" I tensed at his misnaming of the Vishnuites, though Tongon in his blue robes, looked perfectly unruffled, as did Horrus his elder "—I can assure you, she came to us long before Genbu; so ours is the record she follows. So, I think it should be spoken for this assembly."
"You mentioned destroying metal," Cheng interjected, straightening up from where his ear had been half-turned towards one of the generals, "With your eternal fire? But we keepers of the White Tigers are the lords of metal. Isn't that part to the myth?" He crossed his arms and nodded once. "We will break the metal. We will break it with our Tiger's teeth. San Tzu will show you."
He lifted an arm, in seeming gesture to his White Tiger behind him, and then the hall broke with mumbling as San Tzu bounded up to all fours, and pressed forward, while Cheng presented a metal sword.
I knew my assistance was needed. But suddenly, by the eruption of voices, I was suddenly in a different time, in the present place. Chained and put to my knees, before the throne. A setting sun pouring gold into the throne room instead of grey. I lifted my head up to see Lox before me; I shifted my gaze to the pillar at his side to see my beautiful friend—who might have made a perfect statue of a soldier—burning there with warmth, and life, and gold and red.
"You'd better go on, princess—before we see a display of endless fire," I heard behind me.
Cole. Of course. I raised my hand, stepping up. "No, Cheng, but wait. Remember you and the Byakoans are to follow the Tortoises through the gate. We've discussed this. The cliffs are steep there; the Tigers will be able to push off soldiers, down into the chasms. Then there are the entrances from the back. Chimera can fly—but your Tigers can jump, can't they? Almost just the same as flight. Your Tigers will be needed most, where they can do damage to soldiers."
It was almost immediate, that Cheng burst a full laugh. "The princess of Shaundakul, knows well the way of the Tigers. It is true. We're more for diminishing numbers, then small bits of earth. You go on and take care of the metal, Echrian allies. We'll take on your share of the soldiers. San Tzu, is only pleased to fight where he might experience true action."
The massive white tiger threw her head back for a roar, nearly twice my height like that, but I spoke on to Carceron even as she backed up to the Byakoans.
"Carceron, you mentioned lighting the Wyverns wings afire." I shook my head seriously. "But this must not be so. I agree that your birds are the best to manage the wyverns, but it should be to attack the goblins that ride them. In our experience, if they've turned riderless—either they leave the battle in a whole, or if they stay, do as much damage to their own side as ours."
Carceron opened his mouth, as if he might object a moment, but then thought better of it—so that I was allowed to go on.
"The Wyverns are still sacred creatures. —Whether they've been turned to evil purposes or not. They deserve our care; so we've always given them."
In my mind, I heard Cyric speaking beside me, before King Molec, telling how we Warriors killed Wyverns without heed, even as granted Animals. Then, it had sent the hall into laughter—thoughtit had not been true. We'd killed some, certainly, but we'd always aimed not to.
The hall did not laugh now; Tongon even bowed his head to me.
The Constellation rulers were like that, they didn't like to argue when I spoke. Neither did the Democedians, who'd already done so to the loss of their brother; now they saw themselves (particularly Vartus) personally responsible for me as one they'd rescued from Akadia. The Warriors didn't argue for we shared the same mind, in this belief and almost all those to do with the coming battle. The Ghaundians hardly commented in any case... The Selkians were on mark with Nain, and Nain would not have spoken out against me—unless I was very wrong indeed.
But I wasn't.
"The Zuque, do not have to use their endless fire upon the Wyverns, wings," Carceron adhered, "They shall strike the goblins. We shall lead them to a volley of disarray."
I gave him a smile, while Vartus went on to re-broach that matter of whether we would act that the goblins were or were not there. Then two things happened at once. First as I stepped back to my place, my attention went to Leddy's fiery eyes, flicking fiercely my direction—flicking with a little smile. Then I felt a hand on my arm; that scarred one I could tell even through the cloth of my Warrior's uniform.
"Do you remember what we talked about? bribing them?" Cole asked.
He was so close with his robes. I turned into him, even to see him—for that was what
he wanted; I could tell. Or else, that was what I needed, for it was clear to me, by his touch, that he meant to leave. I could hardly resist asking after it, first, but instead, even as the others went on, I whispered, "You mean the goblins? Yes. Lucian knows. Gael's set to do it. Or else Lodan. But Estrid's been arguing that she might. She thinks she'll have the most success."
"I don't think goblins are very taken by women's wiles," Cole replied, glancing past me, "At least not human women. Best to send on Lodan. Not Gael, since that would mean sending you."
"We only worry that Lodan won't be very convincing."
Cole was already shaking his head; his eyes (grey) all for me now. "They won't care. It'll be all about how much you're offering. You'll find their leader, that one with the largest Wyvern; you said the Genbuans agreed to share their treasure? so don't be shy how much you'll give them—just promise it."
"You've explained these things, Cole. I only don't understand that you're so wise about goblins."
"I told you I dealt with them before."
He glanced up, and I turned, at the sound of Kurma, announcing that it might be best for the Tortoises to take on the Wyverns instead of the Echrians, since, their siege weapons might be used to launch up projectiles to dislodge the goblins. It was difficult not to sigh; thinking how much longer this assembly might last.
"You think the goblins will be there then?" I put to Cole, turning back to him, his hand dropped from my arm now.
"I don't know, princess," he replied. "I only feel that it would work to bribe them to our side. It makes sense that Lox would have kept them hidden from us—for that reason; so that we might not do it ahead of time."
"Yes, I can see, that follows best..."
Fallen Warrior (Fallen Trilogy book 3) Page 48
