Prophecy mtg-3

by Vance Moore

  *****

  The dwelling of Latulla showed Haddad that he was to serve an important power. It was another walled compound with a large house and outbuildings. The main structure was multilevel, and in the entire town only a few buildings were equivalently high. The foundation and first story were rough-cut stone. There were two more levels of windows and balconies facing the gate and the sides of the compound. The roof was massive, a huge, steep tent about to settle over the entire house. A steep roof was necessary where large amounts of snow fell, but Haddad was astounded at the waste of materials and labor in building such a roof in these warm lowlands. In fact, the entire complex was too substantial for the few years that the Keldons had been here. Most of the materials did not look local except for the stone. How much shipping had been dedicated to this construction, Haddad wondered.

  Keldons and slaves stopped at the gatehouse. A richly dressed human servant stood between two guards. Over the gate hung a round black shield with a single complex character of red and purple, an emblem Haddad realized must be replicated in the complex bruise on his face.

  "We have brought a slave at the artificer's orders," said the Keldon escort, and Gravel and Army threw him down before the servant. Barge slaves and warriors left, and Haddad was at his new home.

  "I am Briach, chief among Latulla's slaves," he intoned. "And while your genuflection is flattering, I require only simple courtesy." Haddad drew himself to his feet and stood before the gate.

  Briach was tall and pale, dressed in a simple short robe of medium quality. His hair was red and freckles covered his face, a coloring common to many slaves from Keld as Haddad would find out. On his right arm was a bronze armband, richly worked with a scattering of stones. Threaded through his belt was a short, heavy club. While Haddad had seen knives and other possible weapons in the hands of slaves, they had all been tools. The club was a weapon, and it showed this slave had unusual trust and authority in the town.

  "Come with me," Briach commanded, and Haddad moved at a half-run to catch up.

  "You have been very fortunate…" Briach paused, and Haddad almost ran into him. "What is your name and profession?"

  "I am Haddad, and I am a League soldier," Haddad replied, trying to sound proud. "I maintained the war machines and fought with honor."

  "Your old life is dead, Haddad," Briach said as he continued walking. "Your life is now service to Keld and to Artificer Latulla." Briach stopped before the steps of the house and gestured widely. "This is your home, and here is your loyalty." Briach grasped Haddad's shoulder and lightly touched the massive bruise already starting to fade. "You are marked, and service is written on your soul. You have no family, no nation, no purpose apart from Latulla." Briach started walking around the building, out of sight of the gates and the guards standing watch at the small gatehouse.

  Benches were placed outside the rear of the house, and the cackling of chickens sounded from a coop against the rear enclosure wall. Haddad and Briach sat down, and Haddad said nothing, instead looking at the grounds as a prospective battlefield for his freedom.

  "Is it true that in the League, city has fought city?" Briach asked.

  "Yes, the cities have battled, though they fought in the field rather than on city streets," Haddad replied. In the presence of an invasion it was an embarrassing historical note.

  "And is it true your fighters may move from army to army?" Briach continued. Haddad decided to play along rather than educate Briach in the complexities and shifting loyalties that in the recent past governed military employment.

  "Yes, allegiances change all the time." Of course, intercity fighting disappeared with the current Keldon incursion.

  "Then you are lucky you have this chance to serve Keld." Briach stood and stared north. "The strength of Keld will sweep down upon your cities and crush your armies. You have been given a precious opportunity to see the completion of a great destiny. You are honored to serve one of a special class. Artificers create new weapons, new engines of destruction. Fired by the 'Heroes' Blood' and the will of our warriors, Keld will sweep over the world!" Briach's eyes were shining, and Haddad felt his gorge rise at the sight of a slave in love with his masters. In the League, a military defeat only meant a small loss of status or position. Briach was talking about the total destruction of Haddad's city, nation, and culture. Haddad hoped he died before he wished for such a foulness to grow.

  "What do you mean, 'Heroes' Blood'? " Haddad wanted Briach to keep talking but couldn't bring himself to agree with the chief slave's mad vision.

  "Long ago when the land was newly born, gods and heroes stalked the land. Each stood taller and mightier than any who walk today." Briach swung and gestured westward. "But an evil came into the land and corrupted the gods, turning them weak and twisted in hate for all living things. They swept over the land, and death flew with them in slaughter and disease. The people writhed under the feet of their murderers. The gods' betrayal festered and poisoned mortal men until they joined the forces of darkness."

  Haddad was impressed with Briach's storytelling skills but had no idea what the loon was talking about.

  "The Heroes fought against false and treacherous gods. The swords of right spilled waves of blood, but each victory or stalemate only delayed evil's triumph. The Heroes saw all turned against them and sent their people fleeing north, telling them millennia must pass before they could return home. Those remaining battled without any thought of restraint. Every battlefield drank Heroes' Blood and the tears of fallen gods. Now evil was besieged at every point as men threw themselves against their betrayers, smothering and caging fallen gods under piles of bodies and then bloody bones. The final battle vanquished evil but at the cost of every warrior's life. Only the corpses were left in a poisoned land." Briach sat down and spoke more quietly.

  "The land was empty for centuries. Time covered every victory and defeat, changing the remains of slaughter and sacrifice into power waiting to be picked up by the children of heroes." Briach's tone turned sour. "But escaped slaves came to the empty land and found the blood of heroes. They used it to fertilize fields, to power wagons and ships to carry cabbages. The scum fed off the land left behind by the fathers of Keld. And so the Keldons have returned to reclaim their heritage.

  "Each victory, each barrel of tufa, each war manikin fed by Heroes' Blood brings all of Keld closer to a holy war. Each slave who completes his task brings that day closer," Briach exclaimed.

  "The Keldons want to sweep over the world," Haddad repeated. "But if what you say is true, then they are centuries late in arriving here. Why are they here now?"

  "Because you are stealing the Heroes' Blood!" Briach snarled. "The tufa your League pulls from the mines is composed of the blood and gore shed by the Heroes and their enemies. Each concentration marks the remains of battle and power run amok. What you call tufa is the matrix holding Heroes' Blood." Briach stood and turned to the west.

  "The Kipamu League," he spat, "mines the greatness and legacy left to Keld by the ancestors! Heroes' Blood was laid down in battle, and your kind uses it to nurture crops! We have come to reclaim the inheritance and use it for war. Laid down in battle, the Blood will be expended in battle!" Briach walked to Haddad and gripped his shoulders tightly, as if to force his vision into Haddad's body.

  "The Keldons are the chosen people!" Briach frothed. "They are a race of heroes drawn from every corner of the earth! Only in the last few years have they remembered the greatness of their forefathers here! Time and the blood of other lands have made the Keldons worthy to rule here and every other land! The final days are upon us and we are ready to take back the world!"

  Haddad wondered when, exactly, Briach had lost his mind. The dead and brutalized League citizens in Haddad's memories were the victims of barbarians, not saviors. Haddad realized that Briach needed to serve heroes in his own mind. The steward was trying to convince himself as much as Haddad.

  Briach came back to the present and prodded Haddad toward a worksh
op. "Remember you serve a great people. Now Latulla will see you and induct you into the house."

  The workshop was the size of a large barn with a high peaked roof, massive logs and great stones forming the foundation and the walls. The workshop, even more than the house, squatted like an invader on the land. When he reached the open doors he found the interior well lit. Windows and skylights let the sun shine on the tables and benches inside. Haddad had assumed the building would be as dark as the magic and rituals he imagined within.

  Instead, there were tables with carefully organized apparatus everywhere. Shelves of meticulously labeled bottles stood against the walls, and a large dispensary could be seen at the back of the shop. Pegs held stools and large pieces of gear up off the floor and out of the way.

  The second story was an open loft without partitions. A rope-powered lift to raise and lower materials from the upper floor was to one side. A series of stalls with iron locks and cryptic symbols was on the other. Some of the stalls were barred with bedding inside. Why would Latulla keep prisoners here where they might disturb her work? Haddad realized that captives might be at the heart of Latulla's work and wondered how long they lasted. Haddad wondered if he would die here. His heart nearly stopped as he walked past a trough with a body in it. He stopped, looking down. It was not a body, he realized with relief, but a mechanical model that looked like a man. Haddad stared at the clumps of leather and flesh attached to the metal skeleton and wondered what purpose it served. Briach shoved him forward, stopping his inspection of the "body."

  Latulla stood examining equipment Haddad recognized from his unit. She picked up a manual on maintaining war machines and turned the pages. The text she only glanced at, but the diagrams drew her interest as the two slaves stood before her. She closed the book and looked one final time at the army emblem on the front cover. The same emblem was worked into Haddad's shirt to show his military specialty.

  "So you are an expert in the crude abominations of the enemy?" she asked.

  Haddad nodded vaguely, unsure of her meaning and his expected response. Briach cuffed his head strongly when Latulla looked at him.

  "Speak when spoken to. You are in service now." Briach sounded as if he wanted to curse in anger.

  "I maintained war machines," Haddad ventured.

  "I may make use of you then." Latulla lifted a plate at her side. On it were a crust of bread and a cup of wine. "Open your mouth and eat." Latulla stuffed part of the bread into his mouth and watch him gnaw off a piece of the stale loaf. After several painful chews she poured the sour wine into his mouth. He almost gagged.

  "I take you into my house. I provide you nourishment. I give you purpose and meaning." Latulla threw the plate and cup down as if they were soiled. She turned her back to them and went back to examining her loot.

  "Take the dishes away and teach him what I expect. He may be called to serve as my aide. Brief him on his responsibilities and the punishments for failure." She spoke without even contempt, as if Haddad were a dumb animal she would need trained.

  You have enrolled a viper, not a beast of burden, Latulla, he whispered in the back of his mind as he picked up the two pieces of pewter. He and Briach left. Haddad talked and asked questions all the way back to the main building that night, gathering information to feed his treachery.

  Chapter 4

  Barrin looked at the sea. The surface was covered with a light chop. The small spots of white foam were the most interesting things he had seen for hours. He had arrived at Teferi's island expecting to rest after days spent traveling. He was instead told that Teferi was out on maritime patrol off the mainland. More hours of flight before he could finally commence his mission. The grayhaired wizard rolled his head, stretching his aged limbs to ease their stiffness.

  The wings of the ornithopter beat relentlessly as Barrin's pilot, Yarbo, followed the homing signal. A rangy, athletic man in his twenties, the pilot had volunteered to fly for the duration of the wizard's stay in Jamuraa. The ground crew at Teferi's base camp was able to give Barrin and his pilot a device to find Teferi's craft, handing it up as the last of Barrin's cargo was unloaded. The lightened machine flew faster and was more responsive as it flew over a gray sea.

  Yarbo pointed left and down, signaling he had spotted Teferi's vehicle. Barrin waved for the pilot to circle, and Yarbo immediately banked. Barrin could now see Teferi's craft.

  Teferi and his crew were in a long gondola slung below the gasbag of a blimp. The blimp was smaller than the dirigibles that flew in Tolaria, but any lighter-than-air craft is huge when compared against an ornithopter. The blimp was well over five hundred feet long and was a mosaic of pastel red and orange hues. Barrin wondered why such an abstract color scheme was used as Yarbo began to lose more altitude until they were directly across from the gondola.

  The gondola was more than a hundred feet long and was segmented in several places. Bare metal and more of the pastel cloth winked a cryptic code as the lowering sun reflected off it and the windows. Barrin could see the crew waving through the windows. He also noticed that while the crew smiled, the long snouts of launchers at the front and the back of the gondola followed the ornithopter in its flight. He could feel the magic of the craft, and at least one spellcaster was holding power for a possible battle. Teferi was involved in a war, and Barrin was here to observe it. It seemed a poor reason for a reunion to Barrin.

  Yarbo banked the birdlike machine and signaled for rendezvous. An agreement came from the blimp. Barrin waited for Teferi. If the planeswalker had not been on the other craft, getting aboard would have been vastly more difficult.

  Barrin patted the thick case slung on his shoulder. He had received it when meeting Teferi's intelligence officer to coordinate the flight. Though the planeswalker had ways of communicating at all times, security and limitations on how much information could be cast back to the mainland meant a thick stack of documents still needed to be physically carried back and forth. Barrin hoped that he was carrying good news.

  Barrin felt the surge of energy and a moment of envy as Teferi, the planeswalker, appeared before him. The increase in weight momentarily interfered with Yarbo's control of the craft despite the fact that he was expecting it.

  "Hello, Barrin!" Teferi called out as he crouched. The noise of the ornithopter's flight diminished as Yarbo cut speed to make speaking easier. "How was your trip? Shall I get your luggage?" Teferi was smiling, and Barrin smiled back. The planeswalker's black-skinned face was youthful and jovial compared to the wizard's care-worn visage.

  "It's all back at base, so no tip for you." Barrin always enjoyed Teferi's sense of fun in comparison to Urza's permanent glower. Teferi proved being a planeswalker was not the source of Urza's melancholy and lack of people skills. It was only because Urza radiated such unrelenting purpose that so many people followed him.

  Teferi crabbed over and laid his hands on Barrin as he prepared to leap back to the blimp. Teferi jumped. There was a moment of disorientation as Barrin's body changed to a different shape in a different dimension. It was a skill that was minor to Teferi but a mountain to Barrin. When they appeared in the wardroom of the gondola, Barrin's entire being exhaled, returning to its familiar form.

  The first thing Barrin noticed was the quiet and stability of the craft. There was only a faint drone to signal the presence of working machinery. Except for the noise and the excellent view, Barrin could have been on land or a seagoing ship becalmed.

  "Welcome aboard the Hunter, Barrin," Teferi said as he gestured around to the men. The men nodded in greeting but kept their stations. "The Hunter is the lead ship of the Mushan class. We are trying to build them as large as your cargo dirigibles, but we still have a ways to go." Teferi's every movement showed pride in the creation of the craft. "This is the biggest thing flying in the hemisphere until the new Negria class flies next year."

  "It's a fine craft, but how does it do as a combat vessel? The Weatherlight would swat this out of the air like a gnat, and even an
ornithopter would eat you alive. There may be a future in cargo and patrolling, but you should concentrate your flying efforts on ornithopters." Barrin could tell he had ruffled the feathers of an enthusiast.

  "Of course the Weatherlight would destroy us. But it is the only one of its kind, and it took the power of a collapsing plane to charge its engines. Hundreds if not thousands of these can be built. Right now the Keldons have few if any flyers," Teferi replied. "These blimps are not as vulnerable or useless as you contend." Teferi turned and waved for Barrin to follow.

  Teferi moved through a partition and gestured in a wide circle. "Cargo space and the ability to carry tons of it long distances." The shelves and bins were all locked tight, each labeled according to its contents. Large pieces of equipment were securely webbed down, and seeing the stringency of the lashing, Barrin wondered how rough the ride could get.

  Teferi pointed to the ceiling. "Up there is the heavy machinery which provides the power and much of the passive defenses. Enough energy for months of flight."

  Barrin stretched forth his senses. He could feel magical energy encased in tanks and drums, and thin lines carrying power in several directions. But he also felt the balloon and the envelope above him. It was subtle, but the same power trapped in the heavy tanks seemed to float in a huge, diffuse cloud over him.

  "What exactly are you using the power for?" Barrin inquired as he sampled the texture of the energy being used.

  "The liquid in the tanks is a concentrate refined from tufa and stabilized in a liquid form. Using this power we have quickened the fabric making up the envelope, balloons, and cabling," Teferi replied. "The material is in some sense alive and acts to maintain its own integrity. There is an additional benefit in that water is misted up into the balloons, and the material separates the water into hydrogen and oxygen. The oxygen is vented into the atmosphere and the hydrogen is contained to inflate the balloons. As you know, the shortage of ballast and lifting gas is usually the determining factor in how long we can fly. In effect, the water we take on board performs a double duty. We can even pump in a fresh supply by dangling a long hose. Endurance is enhanced." Teferi's eyes shone as he regaled Barrin with the details.