Gods of Shadow and Flame

by M. H. Johnson

  She sighed, gazing down at her hands. Large for a woman, but graceful enough. Noble, Joshua had once declared them, kissing the back of one, smiling into her eyes. Never had a lover condemned them. “I miss it, Twilight. I miss being more than a fragile shell of what I once was.”

  Jess shook her head slowly, lips compressed into a bitter line. “But that's not the real reason for you overly intent gaze this night, is it, beloved one?”

  Twilight offered the barest of smiles. “You know it is not, my mistress, as much as I am content to hear whatever you care to share.”

  Jess sighed. "As for what happened within the heart of my maze? The shield. The shield Rulia pulled through my very mirror, as if it had served as a key." she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her heart start to race. "For all that I knew we were both in a place of sacred truths, there in the heart of the maze, it was still all I could do to accept the cards of fate as they unfolded. That shield, my beloved Twilight, somehow spells my doom."

  She shivered again, trembling hands stroking her familiar. “And yet, I felt drawn to it. As if it called out to me. But I knew. Somehow, I knew that were I to lay my bare hands upon its surface, it would be the end of me. I fear my soul would fade to wisp and dream with the setting sun.”

  She took a deep breath even as Twilight gazed at her still, his inscrutable sapphire gaze giving nothing away. Jess nodded then, resolutely. “Yet, for all that the shield’s very existence is somehow the key to my own peril, I know as well that it is an artifact of Justice.” She gave a soft little chuckle. “Who knows? Perhaps it is a divine relic, and only someone who is holy may dare touch it. I can sense its virtue, but dare not presume to be worthy.”

  Jess grinned. “You see how self-sacrificing I am? Giving my dear friend such a treasure even I dare not touch. Knowing, somehow, that in Rulia’s hands its purpose can only be for good, just as in my hands it would seal my fate.”

  Twilight nodded sympathetically. "Ah, my Jess. How strong and noble you have chosen to be, this time around. And with the sacrifices the pair of you made, Rulia's drawing of the shield no doubt the completion of her own Accord with the Queen of Faerie, the bittersweet sacrifice of your own mutual love for causes greater than yourselves, all of that was needed to repair the tattered byways of Faerie that a certain vile succubus had sought so hard to tear asunder. Not to mention that Ulric, mad on dreams of love and conquest, is at last free to return home.”

  Twilight gave Jess a nod of gentle commendation before cleaning his fur, even as Jess felt a sudden cold chill coursing down her spine. “Well, I commend your knightly spirit and your fierce sense of honor. Let's just hope it doesn't seal our fate, one way or another.”

  Jess frowned, unable to blink troubling thoughts away. “Do you think Ulric and his father are still mad for conquest after all that's happened? I had hoped, I don't know, that touched by the Faerie Queen's love, mayhap Ulric has found a higher purpose. Something pure and beautiful and transcendent, something that puts the horror and madness of mortal folly and struggle to bitter shame. Who knows? Perhaps the rift with Velheim is not beyond repair. Conciliatory gestures can be made, trade routes and treaties reestablished, and Rulia can visit us once more under far more overt and peaceful circumstances.”

  Jess sighed happily at the fantasy even as Twilight chuckled coldly, gazing at Jess with eyes that declared her naiveté endearing. “You don’t really believe Ulric or his father will let their one shot at achieving an imperial dynasty fade away so easily, do you? They have been readying their pieces for years. And indeed, any number of the more power-hungry nobles at Court have been clamoring for Erovering to take by force the wealth and power it could not garner by trade alone.

  “But perhaps I am being too harsh. Too cynical. Ulric was touched by something beyond mortal ken. In some men it does lead to almost holy serenity. In others? Well, how many tales of madness over the centuries have been attributed to the whims and wiles of Faerie? How often have Aurelia's lovers been smitten by incomprehensibly potent muses, artists with the most modest of pretensions driven to create masterworks, architectural marvels that stand the test of millennium, driven to incomprehensible heights of brilliance, even as their bodies burn away under the crucible of the manias that have gripped them?” Twilight gave a sad shake of his head. “The most wondrous city of the eastern continent, in the middle of a nation known primarily for wild woodlands, the quality of its steel, and the ferocity of its troops, seen by few not native to our nation, far from any trade routes of import. And for all its magnificence, is a jewel in the middle of nowhere.

  "It is Krona, my Jess. Comprised of opalescent stone the likes of which is found nowhere else on the continent, near indestructible to anything save the most massive of siege engines, entire palaces constructed of the substance, topped by impossible domes of copper and bronze that have not collapsed or corroded in millennium. A fortified prize which no opposing army has ever overtaken since the era of the Red Queen herself. Yet in truth, located where it is, why would any opposing army even bother? Our capital is a wonder of architecture and politics, but of economic significance only in that the wealthiest merchant princes choose to reside close to the throne. Were the city not such a marvel, it would have fallen to the status of backwater, long ago.

  “Its creation was a feat of mad brilliance, presaging even Erovering's formation, Aurelia's influence upon our peoples as old as the continent itself. And the blissful mania she inevitably infects upon her willing lovers is as much a blessing as it is a burden. But ask yourself, what is the heart of Ulric's brilliance? The direction his madness is most likely to take?”

  Jess sighed bitterly. "I know, my Twilight. No rumors or even false flattery circulates declaring Ulric an artist, poet, philosopher, or architect. He is a warrior. A tactician who knows just how and when to strike for his enemy's throat, whether soldier or politician. His art is the same as my own. Mastering the strategies of the killingfields. The ebb and flow of battle. Painting a canvas of conquest without compare, striking terror in the hearts of all who would oppose the forging of a new empire. This I know all too well."

  Jess leaned back, gazing out at the brilliant moon high above, gently stroking her familiar, blinking away bitter tears she knew not why she shed. "And taking Velheim is the key to the entire campaign. For without the Dragonspire Pass under Ulric's control, his dreams of conquest are at an end, no matter the power of men or magics under his command. "

  Twilight nodded, resting softly upon her lap, purring at her touch. "If the royal battlemages actually manage to get that globe from the Dreamrealms to resonate with the waking world, King Richard and his troops will have a bird's-eye view of every military force in the land."

  Jess shook her head, seeing it all in her mind’s eye as if it were a vast game board. “It would be no great feat from there to use our ever growing number of light cavalry to decimate enemy forces at their most vulnerable points, easily evading any counterattacks, knowing exactly where resistance will be found, and where to put our shieldmen, halberdiers, and pikemen to best effect.

  “Even should we meet entire armies, our archers will winnow them down and break the discipline of their formations with sheets of arrows as they come in to engage our infantry, shieldmen protecting our rows of pikemen from return fire, halberdiers ready to thread between the pike lines and cut down any soldiers that survive those triple lines of heavy spears plunging into any opening. And our halberdiers are more than capable of crushing even armored skulls, shattering bones underneath suits of mail that would only be bruised by thrusts from pike. And even as those opposing armies are ground to fodder against our own, our knights and heavy cavalry will crash into their vulnerable flanks with lancer charges that will leave bloody swaths of death and discord, shattering through enemy lines and forcing panicked routs, the fleeing soldiers easy prey for our royal cavalry’s bows once more.”

  Jess lost herself in memory, recalling with exquisite clarity her training under Eloquin
, and the endless visions of battles long fought; desperate struggles, flashes of madness that had always haunted her dreams. "There is a reason why our archers train with heavy bows and horse bows alike. Whatever support our forces need, Ulric will have it ready, our troops easily outmaneuvering our enemies."

  Twilight nodded. "Indeed. Our archers would strike slow moving infantry units just at their most vulnerable points; our vast regiments of knights and heavy lancers would butcher the most stalwart and heavily armed units, knowing exactly where and when they would be passing through flat terrain free of forest and broken hills, the perfect areas for our esteemed knights and cavalry to shine at their most bloody and glorious. So too, let us not forget special units led by Eloquin's own, masters of ruthless hit and run tactics, devastating vulnerable enemy supply lines, hammering into any momentary points of weakness when battle runs hot, able to rain harrying fire on slower infantry with the best of the king's archers, and quite adept at skullduggery as well. How often, after all, did you and your fellows practice setting ablaze entire encampments of bandits and slavers in the dead of night? Dean Echobart never bothering to inform the king of reports of such activities anywhere near Highrock, more than content to let his favorite instructor and pupils handle it.”

  Jess shivered, suddenly remembering her first engagement not so many years ago, excited on the high of righteous battle, her and Malek at each other's sides as always, sneaking along with their peers into the perimeter of what they all suspected was a slaver's camp, half the class setting it ablaze with oil and fire arrows, even as the rest of them ruthlessly cut down every bandit that tried to escape.

  Jess was still haunted by the screams, sometimes, taking bitter solace in the handful of half-starved serfs they had saved, the dean himself giving them jobs as servants at Highrock, for which they had wept tears of gratitude, with the unspoken understanding that they were never to speak a word of their rescue, or what they had endured.

  Jess had butchered armed and desperate men that night, and not a single casualty had occurred among their own. Eloquin had been proud, they had drunk and caroused and made love with utter abandon, and Jess had tried desperately hard to forget the screams of the bandits burned alive in the flames. Bandits, and she sometimes feared, innocent slaves as well. But Eloquin had hammered into each of their skulls the need for ruthless action, and protecting one's own at all costs. That mercy in battlefield was an unforgivable weakness.

  Even now Eloquin's cold words echoed through her soul. Save what innocents you could, most certainly, and may the heavens shine down upon you. But never should a wavering heart result in less than the most ruthless of tactics, for if even one of your own men died as a result of your weakened resolve, that was a mark that would haunt you for all your lives to come.

  Jess had taken that message in as she would her mother's milk, and never had she questioned it before that night.

  For all that she had paid a price in troubled sleep and regret, plagued by the intermittent memory of bandits gurgling their last, shuddering their death-throws as her blade tore through limbs, bellies, and throats, smelling the awful stench of ruptured bowels and death, never had she questioned her dark service to king and Crown. And that night she and Malek had first been blooded in the crucible of battle, they had done what they had sworn would never happen again, Malek holding her in his arms, adoring her, even as she had sobbed with the feel of his fierce passion, yearning to scrub those horrible memories away, haunted by screams far too high pitched to be slavers alone. And if Jacob had suspected, one look at her haunted eyes the next morning and his suspicious questions had died upon his lips, all silently agreeing that the horrors and solace of the night before had never happened.

  Twilight's grin was a dark thing. "With that artifact giving our king such a powerful advantage, allowing him the delicious pleasure of knowing exactly what his opponent's forces are at all times, how they were arranged, where the supply trains happen to be, and thus knowing exactly what forces to use to counter them, there is no way he could resist the opportunity to use his godlike powers of perception to lay waste to a continent's worth of opposition , setting the mad bloody wheels of his dark ambitions spinning to their eventual culmination, a new empire forged under Erovering's banner. Can you not see it, Jess? The future emperor looking down upon all his vassals, seated upon a massive throne comprised of the bones of all his enemies, taking a page from the history of the Red Queen herself."

  Twilight chuckled softly at a vision Jess was dreadfully certain that Twilight had somehow plucked like a foretelling from the very ether; a flicker of dark truths and dread portents to come.

  “And with that artifact alongside the brilliant commanders forged under Eloquin's tutelage at Highrock and the most rigorously trained military force in this part of the world under his command? Ulric just might be able to make his father's dreams a reality. But only, as we both know, if he can take Velheim. So rest assured, my dear mistress, he will do absolutely everything within his power to subjugate your lover’s homeland.”

  Jess’s sigh was a bitter thing. “I know. Bloody hells, Twilight. I know. But if I would have Rulia and her family live, indeed, if I would not have the deaths of thousands of innocent families on my conscience, and very possibly Rulia’s own, what choice did I have but to act? Even if it was only to give Rulia the hope of a chance. Her shield looks to be a priceless treasure, and double edged gift of Faerie that it is, it is one I dare not ever touch. But it hardly looks capable of defeating an army all in itself.”

  A forlorn Jess gazed out the windows her impressive room had been blessed with, at least since the last time she had woken up, stained glass panes set in wrought steel, marvelously cantilevered as if constructed by a clockmaker, such that they could be opened as effortlessly as any pair of shutters, allowing fresh air to circulate through, all night long.

  “I know the sacrifice was necessary. I know that Aurelia was counting on us, for all that she allowed the choice to be our own. And who knows? Perhaps her adoration calmed the savagery of Ulric's soul, even as the sublime inspiration of Faerie would inspire Ulric's proclivities beyond the scope of normal men." She chuckled softly. "Would it be too much to hope that Ulric might channel his desire for significance by, say, forging a trade empire spanning the kingdom entire? He could sue for tariff-free routes through Velheim. I have no doubt Elonia's people would sign the treaty the instant it left our diplomat's hands, and Ulric would be free to forge the greatest mercantile empire Dawn has ever seen, the diOnni's at his side, ushering in an age of trade, manufacture, and prosperity unlike anything seen since the Age of Steel."

  Twilight smiled gently, capturing Jess’s gaze with his own. “Rest, my Jess. Sleep well and dream sweet dreams, and may you find solace in the nobility of your own soul, far more graceful and beautiful a thing than anyone but you or I know.” His eyes gave a bemused twinkle and Jess found herself somehow falling into their brilliant sapphire depths, even as her head gently sunk into her pillow, her dreams peaceful as she slipped into a deep, healing sleep, her loyal familiar carefully watching over her, eyes deep and reflective, gazing at sights only he could see.

  21

  “A good morning to you, professor Calenbry! I see you are joining us bright and early today.”

  This from a still sleepy looking Armond, absently scratching himself as he yawned with dawn’s first light. Though dressed impeccably in academy tabard over the fine hauberk of mail Jess had gifted him with, he still looked more than half asleep. Jess smiled, feeling strangely happy and free. With no threat of being burned alive hanging over her head, she reveled in the simple pleasures of the day, embracing her favorite pursuits, feeling absolutely no drive to attend lectures whatsoever.

  "It is good to see you as well, my friend. Can I interest you in a match?" Jess smiled, taking a momentary breather from her practice as she happily accepted the water taurine Armond was offering.

  Armond gazed curiously at her chosen practice impleme
nts. "I must say, Lady Calenbry, I'm surprised not to see you training with your longsword." He chuckled wryly. "Goodness knows you've trounced Drake and me sufficient times in the sparring ring, whether or not we were armed with bucklers or shields with our blades."

  Jess grinned in turn before gazing speculatively at her own buckler, a mere foot in diameter. The heart of the steel disc bowed out in a small dome, allowing for the placement of leather straps and for the buckler to be held fist forward, as were many round shields, for all that heavier shields, especially those used by charging knights and heavy cavalry, made use of various straps to secure the shield to the forearm, and free up the hand for reins.

  Many of the bucklers lining the armory racks possessed sharpened spikes in their center for delivering devastating punches in close combat, as well as rings and hooks upon their surface to better catch thrusts and trap blades for just long enough to finish off one's foe. Jess's buckler, however, had no such ornaments, being smoothly polished, and for all that it lacked the versatility of its brethren, she felt that it matched best the tool she yearned to train with.

  “To tell you the truth, Armond, as much as I love fighting in the classic style, both hands upon the hilt of my blade, I know there are other ways to wield my weapon, and for all that I haven't trained with blade and buckler since Highrock, now is as good a time as any to polish those skills.”

  Armond gave an approving nod. “As well you should, my lady. As you may know, it is the most ancient and honored of martial styles, effective even to this day, especially with squadrons of well-trained buckler men versed in the art of charging under enemy pike, bucklers raised to knock aside the long spears, even as they quickly charge past to decimate their foes at close quarters."