by Billy Wong
#
Loreen poured another glassful of wine down her throat and sighed. Overlooking Efierd from her third-story window, it looked almost too peaceful to have been so recently conquered. They'd surrendered quickly, so there hadn't been much of a fight. There would surely be far more of one when it was Rose and Finn the alliance of princes faced.
Uncertainty troubled her mind. She liked her friends a lot more than either of the leaders of her side, and hoped dearly for them to survive, but also cared for the welfare of her own country. Could this war have any outcome not unpleasant in her eyes? Probably not, and drink didn't do much to help her see it a different way.
A solid knock sounded from her door. "Come in." She felt a flash of alarm to see it was Prince Wilner who stepped into her room, and said nervously, "Your Highness, if it's about Martin, he did a reckless thing, and-"
Wilner smiled and shook his head, unusual humility in his eyes. "It's not about him. Forget that. I was just wondering if you could teach me... how to care for a babe."
The request might have been heartwarming coming from another man. But Loreen only felt more anxious. "You're really planning to go through with that?"
"What else would I do? I know you wouldn't want me to kill him, nor do I, and I can't just let him be." He referred of course to the young King Matthew of Kayland.
"You could just give him to be raised without knowledge of his descent. He'll be as good as dead, and yet grow up to have a normal life."
"You mean do something silly like give him to a monastery?"
Loreen blinked. "What's so silly about that?"
"It's not, taken on its own. But next to what I'll do, it sounds downright dull, don't you think?"
Practical, more like. Then again, the problem of Coblan's heirless throne was a real one. Maybe if Wilner hadn't ignored his love life in pursuit of battle and power for so long, things wouldn't be this way. "If you need somebody to teach you how to be a father," she asked, "why did you come to me? I don't even have any kids."
"As a woman, I'd hoped you would know something about child rearing."
"It's been too long since my youth to remember much of how my mother did it. And I'm the wrong sex too, to learn being a father from. More importantly, I'm about as much of a life-ignorant warrior as you—Your Highness." She paused and frowned. Had she spent too much time around Rose and Finn? "Sorry if I'm too blunt."
"Forget it. I'll find a father to show me what to do."
He turned to leave, then Loreen asked, "Wait, so when do we attack again?"
Wilner smiled devilishly, and fear for her Kaylander friends seized her. "We attack when Max engages them. The fool will divert their attention for us, and thanks to his sacrifice Kayland will pay a high price."
#
"I am Prince Max, and I rule the night!" Max beamed while his army made their way around the enemy fortress of Geben under a dark sky. He felt so smart right now for having picked his moves just right—contrary to what Victor and Wilner probably expected, he was getting into Kayland without the nuisance of a fight! He turned to Conrad the Slave, who Prince Victor had lent him to help him find his way back, with his head held high. "The day of the Tri-Principality is nigh!"
The gray-bearded bald warrior frowned. He must not approve of how full of himself Max was acting, but it seemed well justified. "But aren't we leaving an enemy force at our backs like this? Geben is not so strong, and some within might still hold allegiance to Victor." The southeastern province of Jugeld they traveled through had once been the prince's jurisdiction, but Kayland's government proper had taken back control. "We could take it."
"Maybe, but the delay might allow others time to block our path. What, you think they're going to chase us? I think they're too lazy, and scared. They'll never dare to go against the might of the Prince of Might!"
Conrad was briefly silent, his lips pressed together as if trying to hold something back. "Be that as it may, if enemy troops meet us ahead, those behind us might be encouraged to join in their aid. That wouldn't be a good thing."
"Hmph. Like they'd even dare to try and stop me without walls to hide behind. On the open field, Prince Max is king."
They marched on past the border fort and moved deeper into the country. Three days later, he came into view of an army twice the size of his own under the regent of Kayland, Golden Knight Sierra of Palion. The two leaders rode at the head of their forces, and Max smirked as he gazed up the slope towards the blonde female warrior who opposed him. With his far-reaching voice, he shouted, "You think you can stop me? I'll have your head, you one-eyed crone!" He straightened up in his saddle, spread his arms above his head and tilted his chin up in an arrogant gesture. "Charge right through them," he ordered his men. "Then we'll turn back and do it again. We won't leave a man alive!"
Though Max had many cavalry, the Kaylanders were not without their own horses and pikes. Conrad looked at him and said, "That doesn't seem like a good idea. I think we ought to try and go around them."
"They're foolish weaklings. Why should I allow them to continue indulging in the delusion that they could stand against me?"
Conrad scratched his head. "Didn't you go around their allies yesterday?"
"They weren't challenging me then, so I decided to exercise mercy and spare their lives. Now? Let them have a taste of our might."
"Max, please reconsider. These are pretty bad odds especially given the terrain, and your troops... aren't exactly top grade."
"What are you saying? Did Victor hire you to think, or to fight?"
"When he sent me along to guide you, I assumed I was to think and fight if needed."
"The former isn't needed from you." Max made a dismissive gesture at Sierra, who waited stoically on her mount. "If she's so great, why doesn't she start the attack? She can't be too confident if she's content to sit there and wait."
"Um, she's on a hill."
"Who cares? Higher ground won't do her any good when we take it from her."
Conrad sighed as the charge began. Max led his annoyingly skittish cavalry uphill, his likewise grumbling infantry following behind while arrows pounded down like rain. Many fell before they ever made it to the top, and those who reached it met a wall of closely packed pikes. Watching his soldiers fall in droves, he growled, squeezing his hilt. How could he be losing? He was Prince Max, future legend of a new age. Kill them all, he would, and make this day his. Pushing through a gap between the pikes made by a dying horse, he reached Sierra and fell upon her to her certain doom.
"You'll find the same death your father did!" Max taunted with a smile, then spit right into his foe's face. He hadn't actually killed the woman's father—he would have been quite young then—but it amused him to say it. Hopefully, it would get Sierra's blood boiling enough to put up a fight.
They clashed, swords flashing in the morning light. Sierra's features were livid with rage, her blows wild and imprecise. Max felt his enemy's death closing in, but then his fingers stung as a lucky strike tore away his sword. Damn, the gods worked hard against him today. No matter, he'd defy their will with his glory. He drew his dagger, and would have no doubt killed his unworthy adversary if Conrad didn't crush the spine of Sierra's mount with his hammer, dropping her with it. "Ride, Prince! We must break through them and escape, lest we die!"
"Escape? Why, when victory lies the same way? There is no room for defeat in my life!" Max spurred his horse forward through the Kayland force, hacking and hewing at soldiers on every side. Kill, kill, kill! He vaguely sensed Conrad at his side, slaying men before they could reach him. Well, at least he wasn't a traitor. Bad enough for him to be a coward and a quitter.
He got through the last of the Kaylanders' lines and looked back. Conrad was right there behind him wincing, covered in blood, and a handful of others followed them out of the enemy mass. Max nodded with a grin and began to turn back. "Let's flank them with our slowpoke allies. Now we'll slaughter them!"
"No, Prince. They're all dea
d already," Conrad replied.
"Looks to me like there are plenty alive."
"No, I meant our allies. Every one not with us is dead in there, or on the slope behind. We have to go, now." Just after he said so, Sierra limped on foot to the rear of her force to regard them. She raised a hand in preparation to signal the pursuit.
Max spat. "All dead? Really? I don't believe you."
"Dead, or captured," Conrad amended. "Many likely surrendered quickly. We shouldn't have rushed that hill."
How annoying. And here Max had thought things were looking up for him. But it didn't matter. With his ability, everything would turn out all right in the end. "Fine, we'll flee. But once I join my fellow princes—let Kayland run red with blood tides!"
#
Rose and Finn finally made it back to Kayland, having steeled themselves for the battle they must soon join. The so-called Western Alliance, as they'd learned along the way, had already taken over the western coast and now threatened to push further into the country. Before going to find out how they could best aid against this threat, the couple decided to first visit Resnick to check on the captured Ulir children. They arrived there to find Count Brandon missing. Only his wife Ashleigh was home, and Mick nowhere to be seen. Rose smiled as she greeted the former female soldier with the blonde curls, then said, "Let me guess, Brandon went off to fight?"
"You know him. He definitely wouldn't have let me keep him away."
"I would've expected you to be there at his side."
Ashleigh laughed. "I would be, except I just found out I'm pregnant."
She hugged the other woman, lightly. "That's great! I think you're going to be an excellent mommy."
"Thanks, Rose. Maybe you can give me pointers sometime."
"Nah, I'm a terrible mother as we all know. Say, have any bards named Mick visited you lately?"
"Young with long blond hair, right?"
Rose nodded. "Where is he? He was supposed to be waiting for us here."
Ashleigh frowned. "Was it important?"
Her tone told Rose she wasn't about to hear good news. "Okay, what happened?"
"He informed me that you told him to come here, but he lost his charges on the Norh plains. So he said if he wasn't back by the time you arrived, to tell you he went back north to find them."
Finn smacked his forehead. "What, really?! You're playing a prank on us with him, right?"
"No... why would I do that?"
"I know it wasn't a joke. But it should have been."
A cacophony of emotions assailed Rose, none of them pleasant. How could Mick have lost a few giant babies tied up in chains, and why would he go back alone to the Norh plains, a dangerous region he was unfamiliar with, to find them? She supposed the latter was because he didn't want to disappoint her and Finn. But she wouldn't have wanted him to risk his life. "Oh gods, Ashleigh. Why didn't you tell him to stay?"
"Should I have? I wasn't sure about his ability level, but now that I think about it, I suppose he didn't look too suited for braving the north alone."
"So what do you want to do?" Finn asked Rose. "Stay here and help out against the princes, or go back and look for our lost friends?"
Ashleigh pointed out, "The Western Alliance is expected to attack in force soon. Dunwal's likely their next objective, but it's not certain. They've stationed an army at the city, but considering the power of the enemy, the number of soldiers gathered so far might not suffice."
Rose looked at her feet. "If we don't help Mick, he could come back okay—he probably won't get back the Ulir, but just because I've had bad luck on the plains doesn't mean he's going to die. So I guess we should go and fight against the princes, and hope Mick makes through fine."
"Good choice," Finn said. "Glad you're seeing things my way."
"I still feel bad about it. We really shouldn't have trusted a bunch of nonhuman prisoners to an inexperienced bard."
"We were pressed for time."
"True enough... I wonder how Thonng and his bunch are doing?"
#
Thraga, daughter of Thonng, had been stalking a husky mammoth when she heard the pitiful cries. They were very weak, but Thraga's ears picked them up, and she waited until the mammoth moved far away before heading towards them. She had no desire to provoke the beast to attack her while she checked on them, after all. Dashing over to look behind a tall rock, she got the surprise of her life. Lying in the snow, chained to three dead younglings, were two still living.
Confused by their presence here, she broke their chains—thin, weak ones not designed to hold a grown Ulir—and lifted the two shivering survivors in her arms. She warmed them with her magic, then with her burden in hand, hurried to the temporary home her father had made in the mountains for their tribe. The new shelter was nothing more than a magically shaped cave, but it served its purpose.
Thraga carried the younglings into the living chamber and laid them at her father's feet. By now, they had fallen asleep. "I found them outside, on the plain."
Thonng scowled. The king had bucked tradition by continuing to claim her as his child, rather than sharing her with the whole tribe once she came of age. Of course, he broke with tradition by being king in the first place. No tribe of their people had been ruled by a monarch, before him anyway. The eldest male was the most powerful and spokesman of his tribe, but everyone had a say. If enough Ulir agreed, in most cases their opinion would override any single member. But Thonng insisted on having supreme authority, and none dared defy him.
"How did they get there?" he asked with disdain. "It must be an irresponsible tribe to so lose their younglings."
"No, father, I don't think they were lost. They were bound with tiny chains."
"No Ulir binds his younglings with chains."
"I know. That's why I think they must have been kidnapped from another tribe."
"They should be able to talk somewhat if they are far enough along. We will wait until they are awake."
They woke a few hours later, and while Thonng had gone to talk with others, Thraga was there when they opened their eyes. "How did you get separated from your elders?" she asked. "Were you taken by creatures of another race?"
The male of the two said, "Yes, by little things our size."
"How? Did they steal you away?"
"They killed our parents and took us."
"What killed them, and how many were they?"
"Two little things, with magic and sharp blades. They killed everyone in our sleeping place, before many could wake."
Wait. Two? Thraga remembered the human warriors—Rose, who knew the old human tongue, and her husband. They'd admitted to killing the inhabitants of an Ulir shelter. But while they were sleeping? They hadn't said anything about that. It made sense to Thraga. Humans were no match for Ulir in open combat, and could only have killed so many by taking advantage of their slumbering state. What cowards. Her blood ran hot with hatred towards the contemptible little murderers, and she screamed for her father. The human butchers would come to know a wakeful Ulir's wrath.
When Thonng arrived, she told him the younglings' story, and he growled in anger. "And to think I was deceived by the humans' lies? It displeases me to consider that perhaps our wisdom has been dulled by all this time. Still, what do you want me to do about it? Even if they lied about that, it does not mean they were incorrect about their enemies' equally vile ways. It would be unwise of us to get involved in human affairs without knowing more about the world at this time."
Thraga frowned. Her father had a point, of course. He was a wise king not to put his people's lives at risk lightly. They were so few now, and already many Ulir had rushed to join a fight they hardly understood. But she argued, "If you're concerned about the survival of our race, you have to consider that the two murderers are a threat to it. They've already killed a fifth of us through cowardly butchery, and I fear for those who remain. As our great king, surely you would wish to save more than just the ones here?"
"And
risk them as well? If we do not fight, at least we will save some lives. Otherwise, we might all die."
"Do you not have the intellect and power to see us through this peril?"
He glared at her, knowing she was trying to goad him. She did not back down, and met his eyes while he warned, "Do not mock me, daughter. Remember that I am Thonng, who defeated the traitors and cast them into the afterlife."
She noted that he referred to the Ulir who had betrayed Kayla as traitors even after what Rose had said. "Do you really believe she was right, about what happened to Kayla after Deathend died? I mean, do you think she was replaced?"
"I do not know. She was as strong and driven as always, but seemed different somehow—less caring in her ways."
"I would think almost dying and coming back would change one's life."
"Yes, but that bothers me as well. How did she survive, after having her heart torn asunder by Deathend's blade of flame? That is not an injury a person can heal."
Thraga shrugged. Kayla had never explained. "We always thought it was through her superhuman willpower, until Rose cast doubt into your mind."
"She sounded so convinced, so desperate. Even if she lied about how she killed our kin, I cannot believe all she said were lies."
"Perhaps she does believe in some of her words, but does that mean you will forgive her for killing our own?"
That got the proper edge into Thonng's voice. "I would not, if our survival were not so imperiled in these dangerous times. We cannot risk any more lives for mere vengeance's sake."
"Perhaps, but aren't you at least curious as to whose side is right?"
He tilted his head. "I would be very interested in knowing who is right. What are you suggesting?"
Thraga knew she would soon achieve victory over her father. "Why not go to the humans, and watch both sides? If we learn enough, we should see whose battle is more just, and maybe if this 'Kayla' really is she."
"Where do you suggest we start?"
"Why not Kayla's side? We'll be able to watch her and see what she is like."
