Savage Empire se-1

by Jean Lorrah

  “You haven’t told my people-?”

  “Only Wulfston, Lenardo, and I know-and Yula. I did not want them to know until you were well enough to come downstairs and greet everyone-for every one of your people will want to see you, Father. Yesterday that would have tired you beyond your strength. Today-take your meals here, and rest this one more day while I prepare a ceremony for this evening. Let me present you to Lilith and then to your people, and in their rejoicing at your recovery, they will accept what you tell them about Lenardo-that he saved your life, that he is our ally��� and that he is a Reader.”

  Nerius nodded. “Good strategy, daughter. The news of my recovery will hearten my people on the eve of battle. That Lenardo is responsible will give them faith in him and at the same time assuage their fears of Drakonius. It is common knowledge that he has a Reader, is it not?”

  “Common rumor,” Aradia replied with a shrug.

  “My people will accept Lenardo on my word,” said Nerius, “but, Master Reader, you may expect them to fear you too.”

  “I understand that,” said Lenardo. “They’ll soon learn I offer them no harm.”

  Nerius slowly shook his head, studying Lenardo thoughtfully. “I believe it is true��� yet every time I see your face I see again that nightmare figure sent to destroy my daughter-and I not here to protect her.”

  That evening the wardrobes and treasure chests were opened. Aradia insisted that Lenardo wear the green outfit she had first given him, with the addition of a dark green velvet robe-and since that covered all but a glimpse of the embroidered tabard, he did not object. Perhaps, he thought, I will one day appear at such functions in the scarlet robes of a Master Reader.

  Aradia herself was in purple, which darkened her violet eyes. Dress, surcoat, and robe were all of the same color in different fabrics, all with designs embroidered in gold.

  Wulfston was dressed like Lenardo, but in the same rich dark brown as his skin-an imposing figure of a sorcerer indeed. He wore the wolf-stone, of course, but Aradia also fastened a golden fillet about his forehead, gleaming richly against his black hah-.

  Lenardo noticed that Aradia wore a similar gold band across her forehead, worked into the elaborate coiffure that restrained her pale blond hair Into braids and sculptured coils. “Nerius rules here,” she replied when Lenardo commented on it. “Wulfston and I are his children.”

  Lilith, all in deep blue velvet, soon joined them. A ruler in her own right, she wore a small golden crown on her dark hair. Looking at the fillet on Aradia’s brow, she asked, “What has happened? Nerius cannot have died-?

  “No,” said Aradia, her eyes sparkling with joy, “Nerius is not dead. Come upstairs with us, Lilith.”

  Nerius was seated in his armchair, waiting-and did not rise even for Lilith, suggesting that, in some subtle way Lenardo did not comprehend, he outranked her. Lilith was not offended, but rather astonished and delighted. “Lord Nerius! Oh, my lord, you are well!”

  Only then did Nerius stand, to clasp Lilith in his arms, saying, “Yes, child, I am well. Ah, Lilith, let me look at you. The last time we met, I could not see you.”

  “My lord-how have you been healed? Have Aradia’s powers increased so-?”

  “No,” Aradia answered, “but I have learned how welcome an ally a Reader can be.”

  When they had explained to Lilith, it was time to go downstairs. Aradia had called all her troop commanders together in the great hall-temporarily cleared of food and trestle tables, although the good smells permeating the air told that the cook had not abated his labors.

  Aradia, Lilith, and Lenardo went down into the great hall, a hush of expectancy falling over the crowd at their entry. They proceeded to the far end and turned to face the gathered officers.

  “My people,” said Aradia, “you march tomorrow in defense of our lands. Those of you come at the behest of Lady Lilith, our dear friend and ally, have our deepest gratitude-and with our thanks our promise that we of Castle Nerius will always be equally willing to join in defense of your lands.”

  A rumble of “Ayes” went up from Aradia’s men. Looking out over the assembly, Lenardo saw a few familiar faces-Helmuth, the blacksmith, the fletcher-but he Read from every one of them an iron determination to die in defense of the way of life Nerius and Aradia had established there. He Read clearly, though, the expectation of death. They knew they were outnumbered, but like any good officers, they considered each of their men equal to any three of the enemy.

  But the heart of a savage army was its Adepts, and there they feared they were outranked. Drakonius was the strongest Adept now practicing, and with him were three others: Trang, Yolo, and Hron. On Aradia’s side were Lilith, a fine Adept but not a match for Drakonius; Wulfston, not yet come into his full powers; and Aradia herself-maybe a match for Drakonius, but untried. And the rumor that Drakonius had a Reader spying on their movements���

  Despite their full understanding of the apparent situation, Lenardo Read no thought of surrender or even regret.

  “We move out before dawn,” Aradia was saying, “against our common enemy. I know that you will fight to the last drop of blood��� and I know what is in your hearts, my friends. Not fear-I need not be a Reader to know there are no cowards among you.”

  There was surprise at her choice of words, and several pairs of eyes besides Helmut’s fixed suddenly on Lenardo, distrust shoved aside for a sudden surge of hope-Even the odds! A Reader of our own! Render back blow for blow ��� as the evidence clicked into place.

  Aradia smiled as if she could Read them. “Yes-you know I would not assemble you for a hopeless task. We have an advantage Drakonius does not know about. He does not understand your strength, your loyalty to me and to one another. But, even more, he does not know that the wolf stirs again in his lair. Behold!”

  Surprised, everyone followed Aradia’s gaze to the back of the great hall, where Nerius was slowly descending the stairs, Wulfston at his side but not supporting him. A gasp-then the total silence of held breath. Reality penetrated. As one man, the assembled officers sank to their knees, tears of joy misting the eyes of hardened soldiers.

  Crowned with a circle of twisted gold, Nerius moved majestically through the room, Wulfston falling a pace behind him. When he reached the front, he turned and said, “Rise, my officers, and behold your lord, alive and well.”

  As Nerius began to speak to the assembly about his illness, something stirred at the back of Lenardo’s mind. Sensing danger, he Read outward��� not in the castle��� not out among the troops on the grassy slope. He reached the limits of the circle in which he could Read outward from himself in every direction at once, and began to Read in a spiral pattern, seeking some clue to what had alerted him. Nothing. Was it imagination? Nerves? He was many years beyond that kind of error.

  Then he felt it again: feather-light touch of a mind on his. Galen! Galen close enough to Castle Nerius to Read-and that meant Drakonius was nearby.

  Knowing Galen could use him as a focus, Lenardo deliberately stopped Reading, eliminating Galen’s easiest target-but giving them only a short time if he was on the move, for he would easily fasten on the army massed behind the castle.

  “Lord Nerius!” he said boldly, interrupting the Adept’s speech. Every eye in the room fastened on him in outrage, except for the four Adepts’.

  “Why do you interrupt me, Master Lenardo?” One or two people understood the significance of the title; the rest were confused, surprised, but confident in Nerius.

  “Drakonius is within your borders.” Or close to it ��� Galen’s range might have improved, but he was still only twenty.

  A murmur of consternation, which Nerius silenced by raising one hand just as a man rushed in breathless from the courtyard, crying, “My lady!” Then, seeing Nerius, he gasped, “My lord!” and paled so that Lenardo was sure he would faint.

  The Adepts, he surmised, lent the man physical support, for his color returned as he stumbled forward. N
erius said gently, “Yes, lad, it is I. Tell me your news.”

  “The watchers report an army crossing the border lands.”

  “Good work,” said Nerius and spoke again to the assembled officers. “We move out tonight then. The battle ��� will soon be upon us-^but have no fear! Not only is your. Lord Adept restored to health, but you have seen even now the great advantage we have over Drakonius: Master Lenardo.

  “I know-you have heard that Drakonius has a Reader to guide him, and that strikes fear into your hearts. But Drakonius has a young boy whom he has bullied into serving him. I have a Master Reader who serves me of his own free choice!”

  A murmur went through the crowd of officers-suspicion, superstitious fear. Lenardo had already stopped Reading, to give Galen no chance to find him, but at that moment he would have stopped anyway, by the Readers’ Code, for in such a situation all a person’s most guilty thoughts and secret fantasies rose to the top of his mind as if to fulfill the dread fear that a Reader would know the worst about him. He could see the fear in these men’s eyes.

  “Yes,” said Nerius, “we have all feared the Readers of the Aventine Empire. We have killed anyone in our lands who has shown signs of knowing our thoughts. But I say we have been wrong! Drakonius has shown us how an Adept can use a Reader to destroy-but Lenardo has shown us how Adepts and Readers can work together to preserve life. My life. You marvel at my standing before you, alive, whole. Were it not for this man, this Reader, I would even now be dead or dying.

  “Only because Lenardo could Read the disease within me could my daughter and my son destroy it. Now the disease of Drakonius’ cruel ambition threatens us. With Lenardo’s help, we shall destroy this infection! Trust Lenardo as I do, for with his help we shall win!”

  Nerius held up the wolf’s-head pendant Lenardo had worn. “I was wrong to take this from you, Master Reader. You have earned the right to wear my sign-and all who see it will respect it.” The pendant floated from Nerius’ hands, the chain spreading to form a circle and slipping over Lenardo’s head to settle as if it had never left him.

  Once more Nerius turned to his officers. “Go, now-move your troops out, and never fear. By nature, strength is with those who are in the right.”

  A cheer went up, and the men moved out quickly. The Adepts started for the stairs, but Nerius stopped Lenardo with a hand on his arm. “Master Reader, you can interpret dreams.”

  “Lord Nerius, it is difficult even for a Reader to sort prophetic dreams from those caused by anxiety. I simply do not know how to assure you that I mean no harm to Aradia.”

  “Nay.” The old Adept smiled. “I believe you are right-the other dreams were brought on by my illness and fear of leaving my daughter unprotected. But today, a well man, sleeping merely to gain strength for the coming battle, I dreamed a new dream.”

  “What was it?”

  “I saw the future, many years from now. There was peace throughout the land-not just the small land I now hold but a land reaching far beyond our borders, many lands joined into an empire as great as the Aventine Empire once was. And in my dream, I saw Aradia reigning over all those lands with you at her side, Adept and Reader together bringing peace to all the known world.”

  “I think,” said Lenardo, “that your dream may truly be prophetic, for it is clear that Adepts and Readers can work together for a common good. I think that is what it means, Lord Nerius-not literally Aradia and me, but all Adepts and all Readers. And I assure you, I shall do all I can to make your dream come true.”

  Hastily, the Adepts doffed their cumbersome finery, then climbed up to the castle battlements. When Nerius appeared, a wild cheer went up from the army, already assembling into units to move out against the enemy. Lenardo felt hopelessly torn-Readers should be going with the army, some to lead, others to maintain an overall view and direct troop leaders. But this army would have to fend for itself, as it always had.

  “You say Drakonius has gone out ahead of his army?” Nerius asked Lenardo.

  “Yes.”

  “Then we will do the same. Where is he?”

  “I have Read along the road from here to the border and found nothing. He must be in the hills.”

  “There is a steep back trail,” said Nerius, “that a small party could take. You know where the trail from the borderland enters the main road?”

  As they climbed down from the battlements, Lenardo quickly found the trail, from Nerius’ description. Someone had been over it recently, galloping along the treacherous rocky way with reckless abandon. In moments he found them: Galen, Drakonius, and three other Adepts. Galen cried, “My lord! They’ve found us!”

  “Lord Nerius, I have found them, but Galen detected me,” reported Lenardo. “Now they’re stopping, letting the horses go, climbing the rocks-‘

  “Keep moving!” said Nerius as they hurried down the stairs to the great hall. “At that distance, they can’t-”

  A wall of flame leaped before them, blocking their way. They stumbled back.

  “How did they locate us?” Wulfston asked.

  “Galen is Reading me,” Lenardo replied. The flames disappeared as quickly as they had come.

  “Can’t you prevent him?” asked Lilith as they moved cautiously between the scorch marks left on stone stair and stone ceiling.

  “No. I can’t Read without being Read. But neither can he.”

  “Where are they now?” demanded Aradia.

  “Below a big anvil-shaped rock “Can we bring it down on them?” Wulfston asked at once.

  Lenardo Read it and replied, “Yes. Remove the earth at the forward part of the rock-it’s baked clay-can you crumble it?” Even as he asked, the earth crumbled and the rock toppled-but Galen was warning Drakonius at that moment, and the Adepts guided the path of the falling rock harmlessly to one side.

  As Lenardo relayed the news, the ornate wooden table at the end of the great hall burst into flame. The castle itself was solid stone, the basic structure fireproof.

  “Spread out!” directed Nerius. “Lenardo, keep moving-you will be their primary target-without you we are blind. We must get their Reader!”

  Kill Galen? As if she Read him, Aradia said, “Lenardo, he must be stopped!”

  “With Drakonius,” he began numbly. “To his right-”

  What seemed to be a thunderbolt scorched the air just in front of Lenardo. As he leaped back by reflex, he realized that if he hadn’t slowed his pace to answer Aradia, he would have been struck, and Even as he stood paralyzed for a moment-barest seconds-pain seared through his chest and down his left arm. Strong arms caught him and pulled him back, and he Read his heart returning to its normal rhythm as the pain faded and Wulfston said, “I’ll support you-keep moving!”

  “Drakonius is conserving his strength,” said Aradia.

  “Come on!” said Lilith, leading the way to the courtyard, where horses were being saddled for them. Men were already putting out the fire, but Lenardo had no trouble fighting off the sense that the castle was the safest place to be. Drakonius obviously knew Castle Nerius only too well.

  “Drakonius is moving down the trail,” Lenardo reported. “Galen with him-past a twisted tree, on further-no landmarks-Look out!”

  Cement from the battlements rained down on them, and everyone surged away from that side of the courtyard, horses rearing as great chunks of stone toppled-but fell harmlessly near the wall.

  Lenardo was used to Reading at a distance while doing some ordinary thing like walking, but he had never been in the middle of a battle of Adepts, trying to report the others’ actions aloud. Galen was reporting Lilith mounting her horse near the smithy. “Lilith!” he shouted-no time for more, but she swung into the saddle and spurred her horse. It reared and lunged as another of those thunderbolts scorched the air where they had been the instant before.

  Grabbing the moment, the others mounted and galloped out the gate, Lenardo trailing as he wondered how he could communicate while they were strung out along the road. Then
they were off the road, Aradia in the lead, leaping fences and ditches as Lenardo clung to his horse for dear life, wondering how Nerius could ride so steadily.

  The army was on the move, cavalry galloping along the road as foot soldiers fell into formation behind them at a brisk march. The Adepts kept pace with the front ranks, zig-zagging through the fields, avoiding landmarks. Drakonius and his Adepts remained gathered in their canyon as Galen reported the situation. Atop the highest bare rock on the canyon wall, a fire suddenly sprang up, winked, blinked Lenardo Read that the code was a signal to Drakonius’ army to engage the enemy, for they began to pour through the border lands, more slowly in the rocky terrain than the army advancing toward them. As Nerius feared, the battle would take place on his land.

  “Invasion!” Lenardo shouted over the galloping hoofbeats. “Drakonius’ army has entered your land!”

  “Then there will be no question about who attacked whom,” Nerius remarked grimly. He spoke in a normal tone of voice, which Lenardo could not have heard, but he was Reading wide open and so “heard” him easily.

  He was also wide open to the nerve-shattering pain of the thunderbolt that took down the first rank of cavalry, men and horses alike. He screamed with their death agony, but in an Instant it was over. Four men and their horses lay dead, the others breaking ranks to detour around them, while Lenardo clung to his own mount, sweating and shaking as the animal plunged and reared in frightened response to its rider’s emotion.

  Wulfston grasped the bridle, and the horse calmed at once. “What happened?”

  Lenardo was already regaining his composure. “When I’m Reading, I’m open to everything-including other people’s deaths.”

  The black man winced. “How can you do battle then?”

  “I don’t know. Something happens in the actual fighting -men don’t feel the pain. All a Reader picks up is the exhilaration of battle.” He urged his horse forward, and they galloped to catch up with the other Adepts.

  More troops went down-flames seared them or thunderbolts pierced them, leaving bodies scorched through the center, like lightning-blasted trees. Troop commanders directed their men to scatter, but death was coming thick and fast before they could reach sight of the opposing army.