by James Wymore
He sat up. He could tell from the sun outside it was daytime, but he had no idea what time it might be.
He said, "Naming a baby is an awesome responsibility. It's not something that should be taken lightly."
Jewel sensed the change in his demeanor. "Sometimes our babies name themselves."
Elwood wagged his head. "But you said you always had girls before."
"True."
"Has this baby told you a name he wants?" Elwood still had trouble understanding this level of psychic connection with a baby, which couldn't be any larger than a grape.
"No," she said, "like his father, there is something about him that is impenetrable."
"You've broken through my shields. Should be easier if he has part of your magic."
"I don't dare," she said. "I don't want to force my ideas into his so early. I don't know what that might do."
"So you think you could, but you fear hurting him somehow? What do the other mothers of Winigh say?"
"They don't know. It's not like anything they experienced."
"Do you think they fear our baby, the way they fear me?"
"Nobody fears you now," Jewel said with admiration. "They all see in you what I said was always there."
Elwood nodded. "What's not in me at the moment is food."
Jewel smiled. "Easily remedied."
"I don't know the right name yet," he said. "I don't want to rush it. There are so many possibilities. Maybe Mason, after your sister?"
"I like that. Or Elwood, after his father."
Elwood smiled, but it faded quickly. He would always cherish the name Macey had given him, but it reminded him again that he didn't even know his real name. How could he name a child if he didn't know his own?
He didn't let the funk settle in. Instead, he kissed Jewel. "It's going to be fun deciding."
Elwood put on his coat. Jewel followed him out of the tent. Leaving it unfastened, he let the sun shine on his chest above the undershirt. The spring air had become a month warmer, and Elwood cherished the smell of it. Snow still surrounded them, but at the rapid rate it was melting, the meadow would be sprouting grass within two weeks.
When he finally lifted a bowl of stew, Drake and Bowen joined him by the fire. They still had half the soldiers sleeping in the tents, keeping a group ready because Elwood had not told them to do anything differently. Bowen said, "We were beginning to wonder if you were ever going to come out."
Elwood tipped his head toward Jewel, who was chatting with a small group of women near the oven. "Couldn't think of any reason to come out." He cracked a smile.
Drake laughed and said, "Well, nobody can accuse you of not taking your own advice."
"People have plenty of questions for you," Bowen said. "Families aren't sure if they should head back to their farms. Do we want to re-stock the arrows and repair the wall?"
Elwood looked into Bowen's face. The wrinkles, once all laugh lines, seemed to have grown deep and sad in just these few days. Still holding a spoon in his hand, Elwood put his arm around Bowen's neck and said, "I don't know."
Drake tipped his head to the side. "You don't know?"
"I'm just a soldier," Elwood said. "I don't know anything about farms and families. The wall will be fine on its own for a while. Now that the war is over, the leadership returns to you. I should be asking you questions about what to do now."
They both blinked several times, completely surprised. Elwood saw in their faces a wash of disappointment. They had hoped he would continue to lead, taking the responsibility off their shoulders.
"So we should go back to our houses?" Drake asked.
Elwood took a bite of warm stew, chewing slowly. Then he said, "Well, that's up to you. But if you ask my advice, I think you should have some kind of a celebration first."
Bowen nodded. "Well, we can throw a party, but it's not going to be much of a celebration."
Drake and Elwood nodded, acknowledging his grief.
Bowen continued, "Some fool made us waste all the wine."
They all burst out laughing. Elwood spilled his food on Drakes hand. Drake started to curse, then they all laughed again, so loud that it echoed off the nearby cliffs. Not even hearing the joke, people all around the camp caught the infections laughter and began to chuckle with them. Tears fell as Elwood laughed until his stomach muscles ached.
Though their numbers were fewer, the crowd still filled the great hall. A huge fire blasted in the massive fireplace. People moved from group to group, talking and shaking hands. Children carefully balanced trays with cups of grape juice, small cakes, rolls, potato sticks, and raisin pudding. They'd all had their fill of stew and raisin bread.
"This stew was the best you've done, dear," one woman said to Jewel. She gripped Elwood's arm with one hand.
Through a forced smile she said, "It's not mine. Dottie made the stew today."
"Well, I must get the recipe."
Jewel laughed. "I think she's been holding out on all of us."
The woman moved across the room.
"That's the third time tonight," Jewel said. "Why didn't anybody tell me my stew wasn't good?"
Elwood put one arm around her shoulders. "Your stew is great."
"It was a war on," Jewel said. "I was working in non-ideal conditions."
"Everybody was grateful for your stew," Elwood said. "Several times they told me it was a life saver."
Jewel refused to be comforted. "I still don't understand why you wouldn't let me help with the preparations. That proves you don't like my stew."
Elwood turned her by the shoulders to face him. He looked deep in her eyes. "I love your stew, Jewel. And I love you. I married you and your stew. I will be happy to eat it every day until I die."
Jewel nodded, offering only a half-smile.
"It was time for you to let others share the work."
"But this is my house. I should be the hostess."
"Yes, but this victory belongs to everyone. They all needed to be part of the celebration. They fought together, now they must heal together."
Jewel nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm just so moody."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
She laughed and turned back to surveying the crowd. "Aren't you supposed to make some kind of speech or something?"
Elwood huffed. Then he kissed the top of her head. When he stepped into the middle of the room, everybody moved to the sides and grew quiet. Apparently, they had all been expecting this.
"Friends," Elwood said, "thank you for trusting me. Thank you for taking me in. Most of all, thank you for saving the best woman for me." He nodded at Jewel and she covered her face in embarrassment. Everybody laughed a little.
"I am here to step down." They all grew silent, and many seemed sad to hear him say it.
"What I can do for you, is only useful in times of war. I have no skill with goats and grapes. However, I am happy to spend my days learning if you will share your knowledge with me.
"War makes lifelong bonds, friends in battle are the most loyal. Veteran friends are forever. I could never fight the Hyzoi alone. You took me in and saved my life, and the life of my wife and unborn child. For this, I owe each of you a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid. You will always be welcome at our home. This is no longer the town of Winigh. Now, we are the family of Winigh. You gave me the name Elwood of Winigh. Henceforth, you are all my family.
"Thank you mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers. Thank you."
Everybody moved forward, patting Elwood's shoulders. They hugged each other through tears and laughter. The crowd pulled Jewel in and embraced her, too.
As they broke back into groups, the conversations renewed louder. More laughter and voices carried them all through the rest of the evening.
Amidst the happy faces and merry-making, Elwood noticed a young man limp in through the front door. They'd been keeping a watch from the ledge outside Aunt Lanny's homestead. The boy moved strai
ght to his father and began whispering urgently.
Everybody grew silent when Vince's voice called out, "Hyzoi! There's another ship!"
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Five days later, scouts reported the distant teardrop-shaped sea transport landing for the sixth time. Elwood stood with them, watching a large dark cloud in the water gather near the river outlet. "How's the pass," he asked, as a team of scouts returned. "It's no good," the oldest man said. He rubbed two fingers down his moustache to his dark goatee. "The snow is deep and unstable."
"How long before we can take the road?"
"At least two weeks. Maybe longer."
"We don't have two weeks," Elwood said. He looked back at the gathering army.
"More this time?" The scouts all strained to see the black stain at the river base.
"Probably twice as many," Elwood said.
"And we're down to fifty." The scout stopped tracing his moustache and bit his fingernail.
Elwood watched the tiny dots start moving up the river. This time, something was different. After the first twenty or so, there was a very big black dot. The Hyzoi stayed either far in front or far behind it. From this distance, Elwood couldn't guess what it might be. When he estimated the size, it was at least twenty feet across. The army was giving it a hundred foot berth.
The scouts didn't bother asking what it might be.
"We need a new plan," Elwood said.
Everybody nodded. Jewel stepped up and followed Elwood's eyes down to the distant ocean. She put her arm around him and set her head gently on his shoulder. The scouts went back to the tents.
"We have to get out of Winigh," Elwood said. "We only have a handful of bombs left. We only have four catapults working. We're out of goats. Even with the devilfish, the pumps can't keep up with the water flow in the stream. There must be four hundred coming this time, at least. They won't fall for our traps, and they will have a new plan to take out the wall."
"Is that all?" Jewel said with half a smile.
"And I have no idea what that is," he said, with one shaking finger pointed at the huge black dot slowly moving up the river.
"You'll think of something," Jewel said firmly. "I believe in you."
He turned to face her fully prepared to argue until she knew it was hopeless. Then he saw her beautiful face and piercing eyes. She really did believe he would save them all somehow. As ridiculous as it was, he knew he could not disappoint her. Even if they died, he would fight to the bitter end and die with her alive behind him.
"The bombs!" he said.
"What?"
He grabbed her around the waist and kissed her. A new glint in his eyes made her smile back. He said, "The bombs. I've been thinking they were too few to fight with this whole time. How could I be so stupid?" He turned and ran back toward the tents calling, "Drake!"
Jewel looked back at the approaching army and took a deep breath of cold air.
Elwood stood knee deep in wet snow, which tried to blind him with reflected sunlight. They were at the edge of a slope, which tipped back toward Winigh. To the north, the ridge lay under a vast field of deep snow, capping the peak on both sides. Elwood could see the ocean on both sides of them now. The massive glaciers blocked everything else from sight, including the advancing army.
"We just need to break this snow free, right?"
Drake nodded. Bowen was keeping the goats and sleigh ten paces back. Drake said, "We're too close here. We'll be pulled down with the snow." He spoke quietly, afraid even his words would bring down the avalanche.
"If we don't clear this road, we are doomed," Elwood said.
Bowen left the goats and walked up to meet them. "I'll do it," he said.
"No," Elwood said, seeing a kind of battle craze in Bowen's eyes. "No way."
"I won't give any less for my Macey," Bowen said. "I'm the only one here with nobody to go home to."
"I can't watch you die," Elwood said.
"Then stay with me, but I'm bringing this snow down, one way or another." Bowen pulled out one of the clay pot bombs and the already burning oil lamp.
Drake began moving back toward the sleigh, unwilling to get between the two men. He had no desire to enter his own name in this crazy contest.
"Nobody has to die for this," Elwood said. "But it's my idea. It's my risk."
Bowen looked him in the eye. "Don't be a fool. This isn't a war. You can't win it with skill. What kind of old widower would I be if I stood by and watched you, soon to be a father to my nephew, do something dangerous like this? It needs doing, or we are all fish food. But I'm the one to do it. Now, fetch me the other bombs and get down the hill. I won't waste time arguing this. When I see Macey again, I have to be as big a man as she was a woman."
Elwood looked over the snow again. He could map the water runoff easily. If the snow followed the same slopes, Bowen should be okay from here. He nodded and went back to the sleigh. When he brought up the rest of the bombs, Bowen was surveying the peak of the drift, where wind had blown the snow into a sharp ridge.
"The road is on this side," Bowen said as he indicated the west. "No point wasting them on the other side."
"Best to do them all at once," Elwood offered. "Eight small explosions aren't as much as one big one."
Bowen nodded. "She would have gone anyway," he said.
Elwood stopped. "Macey?"
"If she knew it meant her death, she would have gone anyway."
"She was the best of us," Elwood said, putting his hands on Bowen's shoulders. "We paid the highest price."
Bowen nodded as Elwood trudged back down. Drake had the sleigh ready and they both rode it down to the trees. When they turned, they saw Bowen had tied the eight oilcloth fuses together. He held the lamp to the side, concentrating on the glacial drift.
Then he lit them up and used both hands to toss the cluster as far as he could.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The shortest fuse on Bowen's cluster of bombs ignited before the group hit the snowdrift sloping away to the west.
Bowen dove toward the trees down the slope behind him.
Just after the first bomb exploded, the others blasted out in every direction, bursting into trails of burning agro and booming across the field. One of the clay pots rocked back over the company's path before incinerating above the trees.
The sound echoed a moment later, followed by a low rumble. The glacial expanse resounded with a loud crack. Then a few jagged islands broke loose and began to float slowly down. At first, the thick layer near the crest folded like a blanket, slowly rippling out from the giant pieces starting the motion. Soon the terrible noise of a thousand thunderclaps shook the world, sending untold tons of ice rolling. The avalanche wave broke, leaving the mountain shaking in chaos and tearing trees and rocks loose as it raced down.
Bowen half ran, half swam back down the side. The ground he'd been on broke and joined the solid falls, but he was beyond the horizon and safe.
Elwood watched in wonder as their comparatively feeble bombs started a force of nature more powerful than anything man could hope to copy. Then the nearest bomb burst, sending a piece of shrapnel crashing into his skull and pushing him to the ground, unconscious.
Part Two
Death
Chapter Thirty
Prince Richard Deison the twelfth rolled over, clutching the silk sheets and quilted blankets so they would not leave him exposed to the chill air. The servants must have let the fire in his chambers go low. He would just take a moment of extra rest before they came in and disturbed him. A vertical slit of dim light broke past the heavy velvet drapes, so he wanted to face away as he held onto the last moment of peace like the calm before a storm.
He knew it wouldn't last. His mind was already starting to take the familiar path, sorting out the issues he had been dealing with and arranging his busy schedule to best deal with the unending demands on his time. The first, and largest, issue was always the Hyzoi.
Since the recent reports
of the sea-demons extending the borders began pouring in, the Selene armies had been spread thin, and taxed beyond anything he felt comfortable asking of them. They were heroes to a man. The prince wished he had more resources to help them. He wished there were more soldiers. He had gone over the numbers time and again. Sel City had rallied admirably, the citizens pouring all their resources in to make-up for the empty royal coffers. They were the best people in the world. When they had weathered this storm and Sel returned to a more normal life, he would have a festival to honor them.
In his heart, he knew what the people wanted most. His father had been urging him in the same direction. Everybody wanted Prince Richard to choose a wife. He couldn't even think of such things, weighed down as he was by the constant pains endured by his men. He would not court and feel happiness while they fought and bled out their lives for Sel. Only when they were safe, and with their families, would he allow himself the same luxury.
His father forbade him to fight alongside them. "It's our duty to suffer at home while they fight," the king said. "Our lives are not our own. The cost to the people if we die is too high to indulge in selfish heroics." In recent months, Richard had broken that edict a few times. Nothing bad had come of these small local skirmishes. And the prince felt it did a lot for the men to see he was willing to risk as much as they did.
When word reached the castle, as it always did, his father's temper raged. Richard tossed in bed as he half-remembered, half-dreamed the conversation again.
"You are irreplaceable," the king said, pounding his fist on the table. "Without you Sel will fall into chaos."
Richard grimaced. "I'm sure somebody would step up. Besides, nothing went wrong."
The king suppressed his anger. "The Hyzoi are cunning. If they knew you were the Prince, they would gladly sacrifice dozens of their lives to get at you."
"But why? Why do they hate us so much?"
The king paused, rubbing his eyes. Richard saw his father's wrinkles deepen in that few seconds. "We don't know. We sent ambassadors once. They were gone for months. When they returned, they said they had only just deciphered the tiniest fraction of the language. They said the Hyzoi were furious because we are filth. We spread like filth. I asked what they meant, but nobody could really give a good explanation of what 'filth' meant to the Hyzoi. They said they'd negotiated peace. The Hyzoi honored it for a time. But the spring after that, the Hyzoi were back, fighting even harder. We sent the ambassadors again, but they never returned. We don't know why."
