The Gates of Memory

by Ryan Kirk

  “Will you tell me what you’re thinking?” When he still appeared hesitant, she went further. “I don’t understand your choice, and I want to understand.”

  He considered, nodded, then took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Your concerns about the future are not mine. Opportunities will come and go. Reputation grows and fades. But some relationships matter more. Keeping you safe matters more to me than my own rise in the ranks or the lieutenant governorship.”

  “I can protect myself,” Alena pointed out. She didn’t need her younger brother to keep her safe.

  Jace smiled at that. “Yes, you can. I don’t dispute that. But,” he gestured to the small mountain trail they were following, rising higher and higher into a foreign land, “you do have a tendency to put yourself in situations in which some extra company could be helpful.”

  She conceded the point and he continued.

  “Protecting you is the reason I’m here, but there’s more.” He paused. “I believe that all of this is far more serious than anything happening in Landow. These gates of yours are tied to everything, and I believe that if I truly wish to serve the empire, the place where I can do the best is by your side. Remember, I have some glimpse of what the Lolani want. Kye showed me.”

  Truthfully, Alena had forgotten. Her brother had been carefully misled by Kye while she had been in Etar. Kye’s misdirection hadn’t been compulsion, at least not through the use of a mental affinity, but Jace had willingly served in the first attempt to bring the Lolani armies into the empire.

  It raised another, more uncomfortable question. She also believed that her brother was a good man and yet had almost done unspeakable evil. In all their years reunited she had never asked the question. Perhaps she’d been too scared of the answer. “Why did you help him?”

  “I was angry,” he began. “I had learned that you were a criminal, and because of that I believed that criminals and the weak were a rot destroying the empire. Kye convinced me. He believed in strength and the power it bestows. It is, as near as I can tell, the Lolani way. The weak are winnowed out and the strong survive to create a society that is far superior to what the empire offers. Kye believed, and I believed him.”

  Alena heard the shame in his voice, but also acceptance. He knew that he had made a mistake.

  “Are you doing this because you feel guilty?”

  Jace pursed his lips. “I cannot say that guilt isn’t a part of it, but I do not think it is what compels me.”

  Alena stepped closer to her brother until their arms were practically bumping. She reached out and grabbed his hand. “For what it’s worth, thank you.”

  He gripped her hand more tightly, then let it go. They walked on in silence for a time. Then, he suddenly stopped, reaching out to hold her back.

  “What?” Alena asked.

  “The Falari,” Jace said. “I think they found us.”

  29

  After a full day of introductions, tours, and welcomes, Brandt decided that if Hanns ever again invited him to become an imperial guard, he would run the other way. Guarding Regar mixed mind-numbing tedium with bursts of sheer panic.

  The tedium grew because even in Falar, official greetings took too long, involved too many conversations, and meant absolutely nothing. But because those greetings involved too many people in spaces with too many dark corners, Brandt feared constantly for Regar’s safety. He couldn’t imagine a life filled with days like today. Guarding royalty might be an honor, but it also seemed like a shortcut to madness.

  Beside him, Ana’s demeanor reflected similar thoughts. Only when they stuffed Regar safe into quarters that would require an army to breach did either of them relax. They went to their own quarters, not far from Regar’s, and collapsed into the bed, staring up at the ceiling, exhausted but unable to sleep.

  Shortly thereafter, a knock on their door brought them again to their feet. They relaxed when they saw who it was.

  Leana stood at their door and invited them for a drink with her and Ren. Brandt accepted. Ana begged off, claiming that the only company she wanted tonight was that of a soft bed. Brandt kissed Ana goodnight and closed the door softly behind him.

  Their route took them up stairway after stairway, climbing higher until they reached an elevation where Brandt could see most of the valley. He wasn’t sure he’d ever worked harder in his life for a drink. He arrived at the tavern out of breath, but the view gave meaning to his exhaustion.

  Ren waited for them. He had saved them a table, though the act appeared unnecessary. Only a few patrons graced the establishment, but they all looked dangerous. They weren’t ruffians, by any means. They sipped at drinks as they spoke quietly to one another. But Brandt noticed their studious glances, the gazes that never rested long in one place. Each of the warriors radiated a dangerous calm.

  The effect was enhanced by the tavern itself. Weapons served as the wall decor, several of them notched from frequent use. Brandt’s entrance, accompanied by Leana, drew a handful of respectful nods.

  A sense of belonging settled over Brandt. He never felt more comfortable than when he was in the presence of competent warriors. And this tavern held nothing but.

  Ren’s smile grew as he watched Brandt’s reactions. “I thought you might appreciate it here.”

  “What is this?”

  “It’s run by a former Senki for one of the elder warleaders. When he fell to age, he started his third life as the owner here. He caters to warriors who seek companionship and no quarrel. It attracts many strong fighters who are passing through Faldun.”

  “Thank you for introducing me.”

  Before long, Brandt had lost count of the number of mugs he’d finished. It couldn’t have been more than five or six, but he couldn’t remember, despite his best efforts.

  On the road, they had imbibed whenever Leana could get her hands on alcohol, a skill in which she showed remarkable competence. The companionship of the other Senkis led Brandt to drinking more than he had in the past. That wasn’t saying much—since joining the monasteries, he’d barely consumed any. He didn’t care much one way or the other about the drink, but he enjoyed the nightly conversations with the other warriors. They reminded him of his evenings with his wolfblades long ago.

  “You said the owner was on his ‘third life’ when I came in,” Brandt said. “What does that mean?”

  “We live three lives before we go to the gate,” Leana answered, her words slurred just a little. She’d had more to drink than either of the others, finishing two mugs for every one of Brandt’s. “Not everyone gets all three, of course. But there is the life of training to become a warrior, the life of the warrior, and the life that comes after.”

  “What marks the transitions?”

  Ren answered. “The transition from the first life to the second is clear enough. Sometime between the ages of twelve and sixteen the trials are offered to children. Passage of those trials marks the beginning of the second life and the right to start a family. The move from the second life to the third varies more widely. Sometimes it is due to injury. For others it is age, and yet for others it is usefulness. In his case,” Ren gestured to the massive owner of the tavern, “his role in his party was to draw an enormous bow. When he could no longer reliably draw and aim the bow, he passed his duty on to another and began his third life.”

  Leana chimed in. “Some are eager to begin a third life and do so when they are younger, perhaps in their thirties. But such choices are frowned upon and uncommon.”

  As often happened during such explanations, Brandt found himself leaning forward as he listened.

  Another round found its way to their table, but Brandt insisted it be the last. His head was already pleasantly fuzzy, and he didn’t dare go further while in Faldun. It was easy, among Ren and Leana, to forget where he was and why he was here.

  “When will Regar speak to the elders?” Brandt asked.

  “Soon,” Ren answered. “Most likely in the next day or two. As much as the elders
might want to delay, I do not think they will risk it.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Tensions in the city, and throughout the land, are high. Though they might not wish to make a decision, I believe they recognize the time has come. Delay only invites disaster.”

  “Disaster?”

  Ren nodded, his look serious. “Conflicts between war parties have increased the last few years.” He made a gesture to reassure Brandt. “There’s always some in-fighting. But recently, it’s become more violent, and more frequent.” Ren’s face went dark with memory.

  Leana continued. “Most fighting between war parties happens when scouts run across one another. Warrior against warrior. But this spring, one war party killed three whole families of another war party on a raid. Years ago, such an act would have brought retribution down on the offending war party. This spring it brought none. The warleaders were too worried it would lead to outright civil war.”

  “All because some war parties seek peace with the empire?”

  Ren nodded. “It’s a simplification, but yes. Those of us who seek peace often believe some of our traditions and ways are outdated. Those who disagree believe it is our traditions that made us who we are, and that abandoning them means disaster. It’s dozens of small disagreements that have found their focus in this single issue.”

  “And Regar’s visit is the center of this now.”

  “It is,” Ren said. “It’s surprising the warleaders opposed to us haven’t done more to stop our progress. They plan something, but I haven’t heard even a whisper of what it might be, which concerns me.”

  Brandt sat up straighter, though the effort didn’t come easy. “Is Regar safe?”

  Leana laughed. “Regar has never been safe. But the expected attacks haven’t come.”

  “I don’t understand. The road here seemed peaceful.”

  Ren grimaced. “Too peaceful. We should have been attacked at least twice passing through land controlled by hostile war parties.”

  “Even with all those who accompanied us?”

  Ren chuckled, the sound grim. “Have you ever known a Falari war party to turn around because they were outnumbered?”

  Brandt acknowledged the point.

  Ren put the subject to rest. “We don’t know why our approach was as easy as it was. It may be they lie in wait here, where it is more difficult to protect Regar. Assassination isn’t common, but they might resort to such means if they feel desperate. But I fear their plan is even more devious.”

  The end of that conversation left a bitter taste in Brandt’s mouth.

  Eventually, though, the talk turned to other, lighter matters. They finished their final round and remained for a while longer, allowing the effects of the drink to fade before beginning their return journey. Leana pointed out that traveling up and down hundreds of stairs while unsteady might not be the wisest course of action.

  When they felt confident in their abilities, they left together. Ren and Leana insisted on escorting Brandt back to his quarters, even though he was reasonably certain he could find them without help.

  As they neared Brandt’s quarters they ran into imperial guards. Both Ren and Leana appeared uncomfortable with the guards’ presence, so Brandt informed them he could make it the rest of the way on his own. After their farewells, Brandt continued on, uncontested by the guards.

  He found the reason for their expanded presence soon enough. Regar stood on a balcony overlooking the valley. Brandt approached and looked out with him.

  “You’ve been drinking,” Regar observed, no judgment in his voice.

  “Ren and Leana introduced me to a new tavern, one where warriors gather.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  Completely sober, Brandt wasn’t sure he would have had the courage to ask, but at the moment, the question seemed pertinent. “You and your father knew what this visit would mean to the Falari, didn’t you?”

  Regar’s smile was grim. “My father is an exceedingly clever man.”

  “You sound bitter.”

  Regar sighed. “Perhaps.” He paused and turned to Brandt. “Tell me, what do you think of the Falari?”

  Again, had Brandt been sober his answer might have been more reserved. “I admire their focus. Now, more than ever, I understand why the empire never conquered Falar.”

  Regar nodded. “I feel the same.”

  “Even after your capture?”

  “Especially then. I’d been taken by surprise, and didn’t fight well against their ambush. So when I was taken, those first few days were hard.”

  Brandt thought of the victims the Falari had left behind. His imagination easily filled in the sufferings Regar had endured.

  “One day,” Regar continued, “they threw me in a circle with another captured warrior. An empire soldier. I fought and I killed the man with my bare hands.”

  Regar didn’t need to say any more about that either. Killing with a bow was easier than killing with a sword, and even that was easier than killing with bare hands. Even veterans shied away from such killing. To have it be one of your own allies, Brandt didn’t even want to contemplate the horror.

  “I threw up afterward,” Regar said, his eyes staring off at a memory long in his past. “But when the time came to do it again, I did. And it was easier. And they treated me better. I learned from the Falari, and eventually challenged them to the trials to leave. Grappling, sword, and board. I won all three.”

  “And that’s how you escaped?”

  “I didn’t escape,” Regar answered. “After I won the trials, a war party escorted me to the border.”

  “That why your father knew you’d have the best chance with the Falari.”

  Regar’s laugh was sharp and bitter, almost a cough. “I’m the only one who has any chance with them. My father and Olen are obsessed with knowledge and philosophy. Neither of them understands the value of struggling for what matters, or the strength that results from overcoming adversity.”

  Brandt frowned. “Governor Kye said something similar outside Landow. He believed he acted in the empire’s interest. He wanted it to suffer so it would become strong.”

  “Kye was a fool, but I sympathize with some of his thoughts. The empire is weaker than it once was. I’ve tried to suggest changes to my father and to Olen, but both are so rooted in what Anders I commanded there’s little opportunity to make changes.” Regar let out a long, slow breath. “I believe we can learn from the Falari, and the Etari, and even the Lolani. But we need to abandon the ways that have locked us in place.”

  “Just like Ren believes the Falari must do.”

  Regar smiled at that, but Brandt didn’t understand why. “We all reflect one another, don’t we?”

  Brandt didn’t know what to say to that, but Regar turned aside and walked back to his quarters.

  Brandt knew he shouldn’t ask the question, but he felt closer to Regar than before, and he’d never have a better opportunity. “How did you surpass the cost, back when we were first ambushed?”

  Regar stopped and turned back to Brandt. “I didn’t.” He patted his stomach. “After I was captured, my father insisted that both Olen and I have gatestones like the Etari.” He turned and kept walking, calling over his shoulder, “It’s like I said. Learning from others will make us stronger.”

  Brandt remained on the balcony a while longer. Something about Regar’s tone, or the words he spoke, bothered him. But he couldn’t put his finger on why. After a few moments, he pushed the thoughts aside. He had to believe that if they had a chance at succeeding, it lay with Regar.

  30

  “How do you know?” Alena asked. They kept walking, not wanting to give away their knowledge of the ambush.

  “Just a feeling,” Jace answered. “Someone is watching us.”

  Jace stopped, reaching for his waterskin. Toren joined them. His eyes studied the landscape carefully. “I believe we are being watched,” the Etari whispered.

  Jace gave Alena a knowing l
ook.

  Alena glanced between the two men, then tried to see what they saw as she took a sip from the offered waterskin. She saw nothing that made her wary. As far as she was concerned, they were alone.

  But she didn’t doubt her brother or Toren.

  “Where?” Alena asked.

  Jace shook his head. “Not sure. Could a soulwalk reveal them?”

  Alena bit her lower lip. She’d never considered that use of her ability. “Perhaps. It’ll take a few moments.”

  “Fine. We’ll pretend to take a longer break.” He pointed to a stone with a flat top about ten paces in front of them. “There’s a good place to rest.”

  When Alena reached the rock she sat on it, the stone hard but the seat itself welcome. They’d been walking throughout the day, and although Alena was in good condition, she could feel the effects of the elevation. If it came to a fight, she wouldn’t be as fast as she’d like.

  Jace and Toren took up position on either side of her. They sipped from waterskins and spoke about the view. Alena lay back against the rock and closed her eyes, pretending she was resting.

  She dropped into the soulwalk, unveiling the web of life around her. Picking out Toren and Jace was simple enough, but finding the ambush proved difficult.

  There was only so much information a mind could understand, which limited the distance she could travel the web of interconnectedness. Typically she couldn’t sense a person’s spirit more than thirty paces away. But she’d been practicing, learning how to filter out the information to allow her understanding to expand. Every blade of grass connected to the web of life, but she hardly cared about them.

  Alena breathed deeply and evenly. Picking out a human from the web wasn’t as simple as looking at two different paintings of vastly separate creatures. The differences between a blade of grass and a human, so far as soulwalking revealed, were subtle.

  In time she found a human, and then another. The distance was difficult to judge. Soulwalking distance was different than physical distance. But the ambushers were a ways away, and at a higher elevation.