Shield and Crown

by Michael Jason Brandt

  “Shh. Aye.”

  He could not see her face in the tight blackness of the stairwell. But he knew she did not scare easily, so he told her the truth.

  “We need to hide for a while.”

  “I trust you, Soldier Yohan.”

  He reached the top of the stairs, and saw the opening to the world outside. Heading toward it, he watched a ledge come into a view.

  It was an overlook above the cave, peering out on the whole of this valley of Sea’s Pass and the frozen lake it contained.

  He stepped out, glancing to each side. On the right, the ledge ended abruptly in just a few yards. To the left, it ran on for some distance along the side of the mountain.

  It would have to do.

  He started up, thankful that the moon and stars gave just enough light to guide his way.

  “Patrik?” she asked quietly.

  “In our hearts, now.”

  She had strength enough to cry. I feel the same way.

  A few minutes later, he set Summer down behind a rocky outcropping. Her wide eyes stared at him, alert and alarmed.

  “Is it safe to talk?” she whispered.

  “Quietly.”

  “Is it what I fear?”

  He nodded.

  “Show me.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “It’s my homeland, too.”

  He eased her into a position where she could see the valley, the frozen lake, and the hundreds of banners—representing thousands of soldiers, and myriad other things—march by in column like an enormous serpent of the mountains, its head nearing the western exit where it would soon disappear over the ridge line, its body stretching out to the eastern entrance and beyond. How long before its tail would appear was anyone’s guess, but the effort required to make this pass traversable to an army suggested a deployment of decisive proportions. Compared to this, the attack on Sky’s Pass might only be a diversion.

  Summer slipped her hand into Yohan’s, though neither could take their eyes off the procession below. Together, they watched the real invasion begin.

  Epilogue

  Cormona

  The slightest of breezes wafted past the princess’ chambers, bearing the aromatic essence of salvia and periwinkle from the city gardens. All her life Leti had loved that fragrant mix, so long associated with a home she adored. Yet on this day, the second since the duel, it failed to ease her restless mind—a mind that needed easing, for though her homeland had achieved a tentative peace in the war between neighbors, that peace had come with a cost.

  From where she stood on her balcony, she could see past the distant city walls. Just barely discernible was the field where Tobias and Nicolas fought, and beyond that the Akenberg camp.

  Then she looked down, to the stone patio forty feet beneath her balcony. That was where they would find her, later today. For though she could just barely live with the death of her beloved—she was not the only person to ever experience this unimaginable anguish, as she reminded herself continuously—she could not live with the belief that he had done it for her.

  A hundred times Toby had blamed himself, and a hundred times she had reassured him that, strong though his bond was with the fallen hero, it was nothing to her own.

  Toby said he understood, just as she knew he would understand her decision. And he knew the responsibilities that were about to fall onto his shoulders, for their father was even now slipping away.

  And Toby said one more thing, the lone reason she was still on this balcony and not on that stone. An hour earlier, the messenger informed them that the council would soon be forming in the meeting hall below, that the king-to-be’s presence was soon required. Toby had thanked the girl and sent her away, waiting until he and Leti were alone again to let the tears come. I can’t do it alone, sister. I need you there.

  He had extended her suffering for a day.

  The lone piece of furniture on the balcony, a luxurious settee, sat only a few steps away. But Leti desired no comfort, only blissful oblivion.

  “Your pardons, My Princess. It’s time for the council.”

  Leti nodded to the attendant, a lovely creature just blossoming from childhood to womanhood. An age that Leti remembered fondly, and regretfully. That was a time when all things had seemed possible, when dreams knew no bounds, and the reality had very nearly been even better than her hopeful imagination.

  Leti had agreed to sit through this negotiation, just for her brother. She did not expect to talk, and doubted whether she would even follow the discussion. More than anything else, she simply hoped the sight of Akenberg uniforms would not force out the screams she had suppressed since hearing the cheers.

  She rested trembling hands on the balcony’s high stone railing. She visualized them lifting her up and over. Her arms felt unnaturally weak, but her body still possessed a feverish compulsion so powerful she had to fight to resist it.

  Instead of climbing, she cast one more glance at the patio below, then the sky above, wondering where the gods were.

  Leti pulled her hands back, promising herself that the next time they touched the railing would be the last. Then she returned inside to prepare for her last official duty.

  Though days had passed since the duel, the two sides still occupied the exact same positions, staring at one another, wondering what would come next. Not unlike the situation in this council room, at this moment.

  The Akenbergers, all rigid shoulders and icy demeanors, had not asked for time to mourn their king. Naturally, for that was not the Akenberg way. Leti had only ever met one who showed any emotion at all. Perhaps that had been his downfall.

  No, she suspected the delay was a simple matter of reorganizing command. Judging by the stoic indifference of the faces seated on the far side of the table, she assumed they had shifted from one leader to the next with the same detachment they might give to a change of cook or steward.

  Many of the faces of their delegation Leti already recognized, and most of the names were familiar. The others she quickly learned.

  The leader was a general named Freilenn, whose stony exterior no doubt concealed a brilliant mind, for he was the one who had driven Asturia’s army all the way back to Cormona. His aide, Captain Piveto, was a handsome man halfway between the age of the commander to his right and the woman to his left.

  Seeing Lima, King Nicolas’ former aide, made Leti’s heart skip a beat. She remembered the one-armed soldier from the time before, though the two had never spoken until now.

  Captain Mickens, too, had been a part of the prince’s fateful expedition to Cormona. As had Pim, the silent guard standing protectively behind Lima.

  None of them looked happy, to be sure. But then their kingdom had just suffered an unexpected defeat.

  Leti devoted her attentions to them, rather than the dozen representatives of her own side, for the Akenbergers still had the power to make or break these negotiations. The city was still technically under siege, and one look at the opposing general gave no indication that the advantage was likely to be surrendered soon. If at all.

  The man of the hour was Tobias, and he had thus far passed through the rehearsed stage of the meeting with better grace than she expected, welcoming the visitors and offering his condolences for their loss.

  But he had quickly faltered after that, the weight of so many stares bearing him down to his seat. Ever since, the one large exchange had devolved into any number of whispered side conversations. Those on the other side were brief, in stark contrast to her kinsmen’s. Now the enemy general and his colleagues sat quietly, waiting. They might wait all day, from the looks of it.

  Someone with a voice of authority needed to take charge. Lord Jacinto was notably absent, a fact that both pleased and worried Leti. She knew it was not disinterest that kept him away. He was somewhere nearby, plotting.

  Yet without his guidance, the discussion had gone off the track. The fate of two kingdoms, and the empire entire, was at stake. And no one led.

  S
he looked at Toby. Allowing so many advisors had been a mistake, that much was clear. One of them whispered into his ear, and he nodded. Then a second achieved the same response. Her brother was not even looking at the opposing delegation any longer, though they all stared at him.

  Ostensibly, General Moroles was in charge of the defenders. But he had never done more than take orders from Jacinto. Without that voice telling him what to do, he simply sat and watched the stalled proceedings as a child might watch a puppet show.

  She wanted this meeting to be over as soon as possible, but instead it was going nowhere.

  Without thinking it through, Leti stood from her chair and felt many eyes swing toward her. “General Freilenn, honored guests, please forgive the delay. You catch us in a time of transition, as you are no doubt aware. Akenberg is not alone in losing its ruler, for my father is not expected to live past this tenday.

  “Please know that when Asturia expresses her sympathy for your king, she means it.”

  She watched those quiet heads nod, giving her the fortitude to continue.

  “I hope we can all set grief aside for a few hours and resolve our current situation. For the good of both our kingdoms.”

  All the whispers had stopped, and she had the attention of her own people as well as the visitors.

  Leti nodded, reassuring herself. “General Freilenn, we are aware that you are reluctant to surrender your position of strength—”

  He raised a hand, stopping her in mid-sentence. She watched him nod not toward his own aide, but to the one-armed woman beyond.

  Lima cleared her throat. Sliding a sheaf of papers to the center of the table, she began to speak. “I was tasked with writing these a few days ago,” she said, staring at the top page.

  “The Third—King Nicolas, that is—wanted orders drawn up for the integration of our two kingdoms, following the duel.” She looked around at both factions. “Regardless of the results of the duel, that is.”

  She lowered her voice. “He was like that, prepared for everything. He would have been a great emperor.”

  “The best,” General Freilenn said.

  Leti looked at those stoic faces in a new light. They were not indifferent at all. Though too professional to let their shoulders slump, the taut expressions now appeared to stem from something other than iciness. They were trying not to cry. Wanting to get through this ordeal—to carry out their king’s final orders—before giving themselves over to grief.

  And so she realized that Nico had affected others the way he had her. She was not the only one who suffered.

  What followed was a reading of the documents and a discussion of their technicalities. Leti tuned the details out, for she needed to speak to her brother. To make sure he understood, and to not lose this opportunity.

  She pulled him away from the table, then waved aside those who attempted to follow. “General Moroles, see to the orders,” she said firmly. He blinked, then turned his attention to the Akenbergers.

  “Leti, I can’t lead one kingdom, let alone two,” Toby whispered in distress. “I’ve never led a squad, much less an army.”

  “That’s why you will appoint Freilenn to overall command,” she replied.

  “I can do that?”

  “You will do that.”

  He stared back, then nodded. “You’ll stay with me, right?”

  “I…” She did not know what to tell him.

  Then she was saved by a disruption in the chamber. A stranger had arrived, and was stopped by one of the castle guards.

  Leti did not recognize the stranger, and he certainly did not look like he belonged. His clothing was plain and unwashed, his beard long and unkept and still insufficient to hide his youth.

  “Let him in,” Lima demanded. She turned to address the Asturians, introducing the strange man. “This is the Reacher Henrikson, a scholar that King Nicolas chose to trust. He is also known as the Earththane Jak.”

  A thane, with a thrall’s name? Leti wondered why he would be here, now of all times. What could he possibly add to a confluence of kingdoms?

  Yet he clearly had the respect of the Akenbergers, and she supposed that was reason enough to let him speak. Those who were standing, including her and Toby, returned to their seats. Another chair was offered to the newcomer.

  He refused the offer, choosing to remain standing, waiting for everyone’s attentions to focus on him. A natural leader, it seemed. She wished her brother could have half so much confidence.

  Then Earththane Jak spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words. Head high and back straight, if he felt deference for the lofty station of those he addressed, this former thrall showed no sign of it.

  “I wish you all to ignore my appearance and listen instead to my words. I’ve ridden, without stop, for more than a day. By necessity, I surrendered some of my strength to my weary mount, and before that much more in battle with a devil.”

  He paused, feeling the skepticism growing through the room. “I understand that most of you are unfamiliar with my person, my experience, my responsibility. There is time for that later. I ask again only that you listen to my words, judge them and not the speaker, and you will know their truth. What you decide to do with that truth is your own task.

  “If we had the time, I would speak of false gods. For the gods you know are indeed false. I know your resistance, for I have felt it, too. And I know the difficult road ahead.

  “The empire is experiencing the greatest upheaval it has ever faced. I surprise no one by admitting that many will fall in the years ahead, including some of us in this chamber. And no one will be unaffected.

  “But this is a time when our greatest leaders will rise to the occasion, when new heroes will spring forth from all corners of the land, when new gods will emerge to displace those that have failed.”

  He pointed up, to the high ceiling, and beyond. “You know this already, for you see a new star has joined our world. It has augured a new beginning, a reason to hope.

  “If you look closely, you will see that star is the point of a sword. A thane’s sword. A king’s sword.

  “Many of you mourn the death of King Nicolas. But you need not, for he has taken his place in the heavens, where it is better for him to look down and guide us from above.”

  “What are you saying?” Captain Mickens asked.

  “He’s saying Nico’s become a god,” Toby said.

  The Earththane stared at them. “He is the first of many. The empire is changing, and so too are the heavens. The fight is not only on the battlefields below, but also in the skies above.

  “This age will bestow more gods before it ends, for good or ill. We will see more champions rise, and more fall. And we must honor them, and follow their example as well as mortals are capable, if we are to survive.”

  He reached into a pocket and drew out an object, then tossed it onto the table.

  It was a black stone, coarse and misshapen, the size of a large man’s fist. There seemed to be nothing exceptional about it, at least not for a few seconds. Then it began to move within itself, as though the rock were not solid after all. A few flecks of black dust radiated from the surface as it took on a new, equally malformed pattern.

  Then the smell hit them, and every woman and man at the table recoiled in disgust.

  “This stone is the flesh of a devil. Or rather, all that’s left of the one my companions and I destroyed. The devil Ithicus…the being you know as Orkus, god of wisdom…is dead.”

  Taking a deep breath, Jak finished his lecture. “I have told you all I can right now, passed what knowledge I have gained thus far. What you choose to do with it, as I say, is your own task. My journey continues, for there are many more devils to fight.

  “I will say only that I am glad to have Nicolas’ aid in this battle. He ascended as I fought Ithicus, though I knew not at the time what was happening. I am in his debt, and I choose to honor him.”

  “So do I,” Toby said. He smiled, for once appearing undisturbed b
y the stares of kinsmen and guests alike.

  Leti looked around the chamber. Most of the faces were unreadable, some blank, others angry, and a few crying. It would take time for hearts and minds to reconcile.

  Hers, too. If she chose to give them time.

  It was well past midnight when she returned at last to her bedroom.

  There were still many things to work out between the two kingdoms, but at least progress had been made. The wheel had been started, and she could withdraw safe in the knowledge that it would go on turning without her involvement.

  Leti walked out to the balcony and placed her hands once more upon the rough stone of the railing. They no longer trembled, just as her muscles no longer felt the weakness of before. Instead, a strange calm unlike any she had ever known filled her entire being, body and soul.

  She still worried desperately for her brother, and whatever challenge he was likely to face from Jacinto.

  So, too, did she worry for the empire entire, for there were other, terrible conflicts raging out there, well beyond the sight of her beautiful homeland. Her people would soon be caught up in those storms, as well.

  She stared down at the patio below.

  The ravages of war would get worse before they would get better. She wondered how anyone could suffer them and go on with their lives.

  Then she stared upwards, to the cloudless night sky. To the stars, and one in particular.

  That’s how.

  Her brother had already made his decision. The others would need to give it more thought. Some would reject Earththane Jak’s words, and some would accept. He offered hope, but hope was often more elusive than it ought to be.

  In her mind, Leti did not know whether it was possible for a man to become a god. But her heart knew.

  She worried about many things, but she did not fear. For no matter what happened down here, she could look up and know he was watching.

  Always.

  Pulling her hands back from the railing, Leti moved to the settee. From there, all one could see was the sky, and that was the way she preferred things.