Orpus Lengbyoi
The world was a dark place for Lengbyoi in the days after the battle at Niniar. The whole land outside now seemed cold compared to the warmth and light of the lab garden. The tree had grown little that week, not finding time to sit in the soil and the sun had not shown clearly for all seven days since the battle had ended. The conditions felt fitting to the Orpus, so fitting that it shuddered as if the cold wind were strong enough to move its branches and make it sway.
Lengbyoi had been outside the walls when Morior Lem and Chelka Benisar had returned, supporting the injured Tusami Gesa between them. It had seen them sagging with weariness and covered in the filth of the battlefield. The black-haired moth general, Sullian Bovet greeted them at the head of his victorious troops. It had seen them shake their heads when Cersun Palanse, head bandaged and leaning on his long mace, asked them what had happened to Edmath. Chelka threw down her stethian on the grass and collapsed to her knees as soon as Tusami left her side. Lengbyoi wished it could scream and cry in pain like she did. It wished it had a rega to tear in half like she did, so it could let them all know its sorrow.
Instead, the tree simply fell silent and slipped away from the army to climb the ruined walls of Fort Ash. No one came looking for Orpus Lengbyoi. The tree decided it preferred to be alone, at least at first.
It picked over the fallen soldiers lying among the great, blackened, and rotting trees Edmath had grown in the center of the fort. Its seal eye dimmed and it listened to the wind pulling at tattered banners left among the Roshi and Worm Tribe troops, and tearing at the leaves on its branches. Climbing through the tangle of enormous roots at the base of Edmath’s forest, Lengbyoi turned to look at the remains of the armory that had collapsed when a greater bear had smashed through it. Its flat roof lay at an angle over the battlefield, almost all the tiles gone. Gliding to the right, Lengbyoi came across the body of the immense mirache it had seen fall during the fight.
A jagged splinter of wood had pierced through its chest and its heads lay tangled with its miraculous and now lifeless wings. The birds that perched upon the walls now were not creatures of any tribe. The scavengers would soon pick clean the bones of even the once mighty flying fox. Orpus Lengbyoi swung its branch into the wall of the keep, desperately sad and full of despair. It had never been this alone, but from now on no one would be there for it. However, Edmath could not simply disappear, even if the humans could not find him. Lengbyoi made a silent vow to find its maker even as the army withdrew from the fort.
Over the course of the next week, Lengbyoi climbed over every wall and peered into every passage. Its single glowing seal-eye cut through the darkness of the empty halls and rooms. On a night with no moon it climbed to the top of the keep and looked out over the land, not daring hope its search would ever end. It went back to work only a few moments later.
Chelka
The journey back to Diar came as a stale horror to Chelka, but the summons of the High Emperor could not be denied. She had sat on the double mat she had shared with Edmath for the entire campaign and cried until she could not cry anymore. Returning to the imperial city alone would only hurt her more, she knew, but nothing could be helped. Edmath had been too brave. He had chosen to fight the mirache alone, even after seeing what it could do.
Foolish Ed had killed it somehow, but now where was he? If he were not dead he would have come back to her. Who had said he wasn’t foolish enough to fight alone, to try to be a hero?
“Edmath, you damned hero.” Her voice sounded strange to her.
She had no more strength to move, no more purpose. Chelka fell onto her back and wished the world and all its animals would disappear.
She did not leave her tent on purpose, but after she fell asleep one night she woke inside a covered palanquin being carried down to the docks by four Enchieli. The movement woke her and she knew what had happened. The High Emperor had summoned her and the other Saales back to Diar. Riding a lesser elk alongside her, Tusami Gesa looked at her when she peeked out from the shades to see the city around her.
“Lady Benisar, we have been summoned.”
Chelka hung her head. She had sulked too long already but she had no plans to entertain the fancy of the court anytime in the near future.
“I know.”
“I’m sorry, about your husband.” Tusami bowed her head as she spoke. “I never liked him much. But during the battle, he fought to save me.”
Oresso Nane might try to court her again. How soon, Chelka did not know. She knew her answer for the moment, but being lonely did not suit her.
“I saw,” said Chelka.
“He was very heroic,” said Tusami. “A powerful Battle Saale.”
Chelka blinked, trying not to cry even more. Edmath wasn’t a warrior, not a battle mage. He hadn’t been prepared for this sort of conflict. What he had done was not just brave or foolish, it was insane. He had fought a mirache almost single-handedly and more, he had killed it, even if he died as well. It was the sort of fight a man could be remembered for, her father would say. She would have remembered him no matter what, so it came as no comfort to her, even though the battle had been won.
Kassel Onoi had not been in the keep, and the whole campaign had been for not. She had heard voices outside her door before, talking about the newly appointed Worm Queen who had just sworn allegiance to the High Emperor in Diar. The sphere of humanity was healing already. Soon the nation would be ready to send troops against Roshi again if need be, but Chelka wanted no part of it.
She lay back on the seat and looked up at the shaking ceiling of the palanquin. Everything from the light of the sun coming through the curtains, to the sway and bob of the platform beneath numbed her. She had known Edmath wasn’t suited for the battlefield. Everything about him had been gentle. She did not cry at that moment, but later she wished she had.
Even when the curtain opened and Brosk Naopaor’s appeared, leaning on a crutch, she hated the sight. Chelka climbed out and walked with him and Tusami and Morior to the sea levoth he had arrived on, but she did not hear their words or speak to them. She sagged, then lay down on the back of the levoth’s bony deck, where she sat and watched the land recede.
The night had never held much fear for Edmath, but a tomb was dark even when the sky above was bright. He woke from the catatonia of the trance he had slipped into to cope with the pain of killing his foe. The world was cold. He was alone, lying on his back under layers of wood and stone, unable to move much beyond his head and hands. His arms were pinned and he felt with his forefinger that his striker was broken. Only in the absolute darkness, he couldn’t imagine what had happened. The pain of the killing with magic had gone but he still ached all over, his body pinioned beneath a heavy weight, but spared complete crushing doom by unseen supports still intact above him.
The battle was over, he guessed from the silence, but here he would die nonetheless. He hated himself for how Chelka must feel, hated himself for the stupid risk he had taken out of anger, hated himself, even for slaying the mirache, such an amazing creature. Dozing hopelessly, he heard his stomach growl, empty. Despite the air filtering through cracks in the rubble, he would die soon enough. Then he thought of Chelka who he would be leaving him behind, of Sampheli Mierzon and the monks who had raised him. All those people who had helped him live were going to miss him when he was gone, and he knew with tears in his eyes that he would miss them too.
No way could he make a sign, no way to escape. Here he was. He screamed as loud as he could as often as his lungs would allow him. After hours with no response, he shifted his head to gaze up at a tiny point of blue light that appeared in front of him. The light grew wider with a groan as more rubble shifted over him. Orpus Lengbyoi’s silvery roots reached through the shards of broken roof tiles and bared Edmath to the light of the newly waxing moon. He groaned as pale light appeared before his eyes. His hands were free, then his legs and Orpus Lengbyoi’s voice sang out, high and clear.
“Edmath
you were here all along. Edmath, friend, and maker, I knew you wouldn’t leave me. I knew you wouldn’t go and let me live alone. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!” The ghosted roots slipped around Edmath’s sore body and lifted him onto the lowest branch.
The blue glow of the seal-eye cut through the night. Edmath managed a smile when he saw it this time. He massaged his stiff neck and brushed dust from his face with his other hand.
“Lengbyoi, how?”
“I think an Orpus can hear better than a human, but I didn’t hear you for such a long time. I have nowhere to go without you, or I might have given up.” Lengbyoi’s eye dimmed for a moment. “Your wife is safe, but I haven’t seen her since the battle ended. But I did find your glasses. They’re dusty, but not broken.” The tree held them out on the end of a root. Edmath retrieved his glasses and put them on.
Edmath breathed with ragged relief and adjusted his sitting position with his hands as more feeling returned to them. They had been almost numb since he had been unburied. He wanted water and food and wondered if he might be starving to death sitting on the branch.
“Thanks, my good and faithful Lengbyoi.” Edmath looked through the breach in the wooden wall and saw no fires burning on the hill. “How long was I buried?”
“Twelve days.” Orpus Lengbyoi carried Edmath toward the hole in the walls and onto the battlefield that had been partly cleaned up already. Broken weapons and crab shells lay scattered around the opening. On the slope of the hill, the body of a crab king stood motionless, towering like a rounded mountain.
Lesser birds had begun to pick away at the massive creature’s remains. Despite his disgust at the felling of the giant crab, Edmath’s mind returned to the same thought as the tiny birds who now fed off of it spoke.
“Tender,” murmured one.
“Juicy!” cried another.
Edmath massaged his aching stomach with one hand.
“I need to eat.” Edmath squeezed leaned close and put his head against Lengyboi’s trunk. “Please, take me into the city.”
“Yes, of course. The city fell to the attack. We should be able to go in.”
The tree turned and crept through the remains of the crab legion warriors and to the walls of the city where the flags of the War Empress’s regency flew.
“Stop here,” Edmath said. “The two of us can’t simply invade a city like Niniar, though it belongs to our side once again. They will need to know I am alive, and a friend.” Edmath took a deep breath and waited. Orpus Lengbyoi kept its silence and Edmath watched as guards came and went above the wall carrying spears and torches.
He called to the soldiers on the wall with what remained of his hoarse voice. The guard passing by turned and looked down at him and returned his yell with a wave to come closer. Orpus Lengbyoi approached the wall at a slow slither. Edmath waved his arm to the man on the battlements.
“Guard,” he called. “I am Imperial Saale Edmath Benisar. Will you allow my tree and I to climb the wall here? We will cause no damage.”
The guard leaned over the wall and answered him with surprised assent. Edmath couldn’t quite make him out. Orpus Lengbyoi must have understood the man better. The tree carried him to the wall and then up the side, roots sinking into solid stone and emerging without a trace of their presence left behind. The guard let out a gasp as Edmath and the tree appeared over the battlements.
“You’re that Saale, the one who fought the fox-beast. We thought you dead.”
Edmath winced as Orpus Lengbyoi set him down on the wall with a gentle tilt of its long trunk.
“Sense would tell you the same thing,” he said. “But fortune is on my side.”
He climbed to his feet and felt something cold and metallic touch his back. He looked over his shoulder and saw his stethian, held in one of Orpus Lengbyoi’s roots.
“I found this earlier as well, Edmath.” The tree’s seal pulsed with nervous light. “In case of danger.”
The guard backed away from them. Edmath took the stethian from the tree’s coiled grip.
“Thank you, Orpus. Don’t panic, good sentry. This tree is my friend, Orpus Lengbyoi. It won’t hurt you. So have no fear.”
The guard swept off his moth-legion helmet and bowed his head.
“Lord Benisar, I can scarcely believe you’re alive. Everyone was told you had fallen in battle.”
Edmath chuckled, leaning against Orpus Lengbyoi’s trunk. Guilt rushed through him for causing his friends pain, especially Chelka, but his survival now seemed entirely too lucky for him not to laugh a little. He could go home.
“I owe this big tree my life.” Edmath patted Orpus Lengbyoi’s bark. “He dug me out of the rubble of Fort Ash’s armory earlier this night. Of course, I could do with some food and drink now. After all, it’s been almost two weeks.” Edmath felt light-headed all of a sudden. The guard took a step toward him, looking concerned as he fell into a crouch. “About your business, sir,” Edmath said as Orpus Lengbyoi picked him back up with a cluster of tentacles and set him back on a branch. “I will be fine with my tree friend to look after me.”
“If you say so.” The guard threw up a salute. “I heard you Imperial Saales were summoned by the High Emperor.”
“I will leave for Diar tomorrow.” Edmath lay back on the branch. “Don’t worry about that.” With those words, Orpus Lengbyoi carried him down the wall and into the city streets.
They searched for an hour or so before finding an open tavern, where luminous worms glowed in the lantern over the door. Edmath climbed off Orpus Lengbyoi.
“Wait here.” He walked over to the door and looked back at the seal on the tree’s trunk. “I’ll need food and drink and proper rest, you understand. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Orpus Lengbyoi’s roots sank into the dirt on one side of the road beside the tavern.
“I will wait, Edmath. I’m simply glad you’re alive.”
Edmath made his way inside, touching his glasses with a finger. They were dusty, and a thin crack ran along the top of one lens, but that was all, even after the collapse of the roof and Tamina’s blows during the battle. Inside the tavern, the lights were low flickers of candle flame, but the bar still remained open. He walked over to it, unsure of drinking the alcohol on the wall behind the counter. He needed something though. The drowsy, slender barman raised an eyebrow at him, blinking in the dim light.
“What’ll it be, my lord?”
Reaching to his side, Edmath felt his money pouch and found it still full, as he’d hoped. “Please, a glass of wine, my good man, and what do you have to eat?”
“All I can offer is a few scraps of bread and elk cheese at this hour.”
“That will be plenty. Thank you.”
Edmath fished in the pouch and pulled out a handful of coins. He was grateful barman did not ask questions. He needed to clear his head. Without checking the coins he set them on the table and slumped onto a stool nearby, back aching from his long time unable to move. The trance state his body entered had most likely saved his limbs as intended. He had continued to study Hesiatic trances at Lexine Park and the action had been reflexive apparently. Lacking a monk’s torite bundles, the body still grew weak over time.
The barman took his money and brought him wine, bread, and cheese. He ate in silence for a few moments and then looked up from his food. The reflection in his wine was not pleasant, spotted with dried blood and covered in dust. The barman sat down across from him.
“Is everything alright?” The barman yawned and covered his mouth with his hand. “You look like hell.”
“This is excellent fare. But you’re right, I’m in poor condition.” Edmath brushed dust from his hair. “I will need a room as well.”
“I can offer you the last room at the end of the hall on the second floor. How long will you need it?” The barman’s tone betrayed a hint of knowledge that he had not yet shared.
“Just for the night, I need some rest before I move on.” Edmath got to his feet and wiped his
mouth with a clean rag sitting on the table. “Are you aware of who I am?”
“A worm lord in Niniar? There are still plenty like you.”
“My good man, I am not of the local tribe.”
A dog barked outside the door, answered by another. As far as Edmath could determine from their guttural voices they were excited by Orpus Lengbyoi’s presence.
“Trees! Come see the tree!”
“Smell this tree!”
The barman looked over his shoulder as the barking continued.
“What’s that about?”
There was no dog tribe in Zel, or anywhere else as far as Edmath knew. A few old texts spoke of a Wolf Tribe, but their like had not been seen in Zel for many generations. Edmath might be the only human capable of understanding canine speech.
“Nothing to fear. The animals have only noticed my steed.”
“Steed? I heard neither hoof nor paw.”
“As I was saying. I am an Imperial Saale. Edmath Benisar is my name.”
“Benisar? You were with the War Empress’s army. They thought you dead.”
“Only a slight exaggeration, my good man. I must leave for Diar tomorrow to set things right. Now, about that room key.”
“Right.” The barman lifted a key from behind the counter and handed it to Edmath. “Return it in the morning.”
He yawned again and lit a candle with a match. He handed the candle’s burnished metal grip to Edmath and sat down again.
Edmath raised the candle a little and smiled at the barman. He had such luck that he could find a room immediately. He might have been able to survive a night on the streets, but no need to risk that now.
Spells of the Curtain Volume One Page 24
