by Mark Albany
The boy looked at me, and I saw something like terror in his eyes. I wasn’t sure I liked that look, but his fear of us was well and truly gone. Or at least, set aside.
“There has been news of the Emperor,” he said, and drew deep breath. “He is on the road back to the Imperial City, but not by a direct route, as he plans to oversee the Empire that he has left behind for so many years. He has, however, sent his word and his hand to see what damage was caused to his beloved city.”
“His word and his hand?” Aliana asked, as she looked around. “What does that mean?”
I wanted to ask the same question. There was a hint of surprise with a little bit of fear in the pit of Noral’s stomach, something that I hadn’t felt in her since the battle ended. In fairness, there had been a little bit in all of us since Abarat escaped, which imperilled all our lives and ensured that none of us had a good night’s sleep. We knew there was a powerful and dangerous being out there who was more than willing to wait until the time was absolutely right to strike.
“The Emperor’s word and hand are his Officials,” Noral explained and lowered her head.
“Oh,” I said. Even Aliana knew enough about the Officials to not need any further explanation. I hoped that our shared dread would be enough to stave off the question that I knew was eating away at Braire’s mind, but she always was a stubborn one.
“Who is the Official?” Braire asked.
“A member of the Emperor’s court,” Noral explained. I didn’t add anything to her statement. She knew more about what could be told than I did, anyway. “They’re selected from the most powerful mages in the Empire to lead his personal guard, the Lancers. They wear runed armor and carry spelled weapons made to enhance their power and render them all but unbeatable. They served as official envoys from the Emperor himself during his time spent in meditation.”
“The word ‘envoys’ didn’t have the weight required,” I added as Noral’s voice faded away. “They’re called the Officials, and everyone does what they say, treating every word that comes from their lips as though from the Emperor himself.”
“Oh,” Braire said, looking around. “And that’s bad, is it?”
“Not bad, technically, but not someone to be trifled with,” Noral said. “And definitely not ignored.”
“I do have a question, though.” I said, as I glanced between Noral and the messenger. “We returned after Cyron took over the City. There was an Official in the Imperial City when we left. Is that the same one who’s calling us back now?”
“No,” Noral explained as she faced me. “Any Official would be under orders to hold the city against attack no matter the cost, and to their last breath.”
“With Cyron and Abarat both at the height of their powers and with an army of golems behind them, I don’t think whoever it is stood much of a chance,” Braire pointed out.
Aliana nodded. “So, what should we tell our messenger, here?”
“Nothing,” Noral said. She turned back to the young man, who looked like he had recovered from the ride just enough to pull himself together. He still looked exhausted, as one would after riding all day and night for three or four days straight, but damned if that was going to get in the way of delivering his message.
"What?" I looked at her, trying to gauge what she was thinking based on her previous words and the fact that all I felt from her end of the bond was a steely sort of resolve. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that no response will be necessary," she replied with a tilt of her head. "We will head back to the capital with you."
The young rider looked around. Questions seemed to swirl in his eyes. "With me? I was told that you used magic to travel here. And I only have the two horses, both exhausted from the journey. I don't think they could carry five of us."
"Nor I," Noral replied. She looked like she was up to something, but it didn't seem like she was going to share any details. "You should ride back to one of those villages I see in the distance. Distad should be the closest, only a few hours’ ride if you take your time. You should find an inn and rest yourself and your mounts for the return journey. As I said, we have an important task that requires completion in this area of the Empire, and we cannot leave it unattended. We will complete that task and find you when we are ready to return. Maybe tomorrow? Yes, tomorrow morning."
He opened his mouth, clearly intending to disagree and tell us that we needed to head back to the City with all haste, considering who had issued the summons, but he was in no position to insist, and didn't look like he had the energy to deny himself a good night's rest and a hot meal.
All at once, I understood what Noral was doing. She didn't want to deny the Official's request or seem like she was bucking the Emperor's word. However, there was something to be said for taking our time while making it seem like what we were doing was in the Empire's best interests. Meaning, if we took our time returning, we’d obey the orders but maintain the image of people capable of acting on their own—that we chose to head back, and treated the summons like a request.
The messenger finally nodded. "Of course, my lady. As you wish."
Noral smiled, then pulled a small pouch from her belt and placed it in the boy's hands. He inspected the contents and realized that she had just gifted him with a small fortune, more than enough for a night's stay for himself and the horses at a good inn with good food.
"We shall find you in the morning, and return to the capital in all haste," Noral said, and dismissed him with a flick of her hand.
I could never do that. Well, I supposed that it could be learned with practice, but dismissing someone like that was something I couldn’t imagine doing. I was still just playing the part of someone who was a member of the gentry.
The boy went to his horses and quickly mounted one, then moved away at a far less hurried pace than when he'd arrived.
"Are you sure that was wise?" Aliana asked as we resumed packing up our camp. "If the Official is that powerful, wouldn't it be best to at least find out what he wants, if only to keep ourselves in the Emperor's good graces?"
"Yes," Noral replied. "But you forget that I've been playing this game for longer than I'd like to admit. We shouldn't be seen as rushing back like a dog on a leash. Dogs on a leash, in this case."
I shrugged. I honestly didn't care, and if she said this way was better, who was I to tell her otherwise?
I picked up my pack and shouldered it in one smooth move as I looked at the others. "Well, what are we supposed to do while we're out here pretending that the Official and the Emperor don't tell us what to do?"
"Like she said," Braire moved in beside me, a keen smile playing across her face as she nudged my ribs with her elbow, "we have a job to do out here. We probably can't carry it out in a single day, but damned if we can't try, right?"
"Correct," Aliana replied before I could.
I shook my head and softly chuckled. Odd how one's priorities shifted. Even though I knew they were still curious about what had happened the night before in my dream that wasn't a dream, the explanation could be put off until we had dealt with the Official problem.
I wasn't sure how I’d thank him for saving me a difficult explanation. How did you explain to three women you'd just had sex with, that you then had a dream involving another woman entirely right after? And an elf, on top of that?
"We should get moving," Aliana said. "I’d say we have until midday before we should head back to find our messenger, if we actually plan to start back come tomorrow morning."
"Let's just hope that the undead are anxious to die," I said, trying to keep my spirits high. "You know, again. I don’t think they'll want to comply with our schedule out here."
"We'll just have to teach them some manners," Aliana said with the smile which I associated with the darker side of her Djinn nature. As arousing as it was, it was something we needed to keep a lid on, except in the heat of battle.
And now we had two reasons to find some undead to kill, I thought with a
small smile, and followed Noral's lead as she found her bearing and walked uphill, toward the west.
5
We should have been hurrying. There was probably an excellent reason for us to make every effort to return to the Imperial City as quickly as we could. The messenger boy, who introduced himself as Cal Miller—presumably a miller's son who had managed a job as a messenger for the Emperor's court—had done everything he could to make sure that we reached the city as quickly as possible.
Which explained his frustration with us and with Noral especially, as she maintained that we had no reason to hurry and kept us at a walking pace through the roads picked out by Cal as the quickest routes back.
As amusing as it was to think about how his frustration would be mirrored in the lords and ladies who waited for us back at the city, and the Official himself, I thought there might be some kind of punishment in store for him if he was tardy in delivering us.
I voiced my concerns to Noral on the third night of our trip back. She smiled and reached over to stroke my cheek. As if she realized that I might think of the move as condescending on her part, she shook her head.
"I'll make sure that he doesn't see any punishment for our actions," she said as she lay next to me and idly played with my hair. "Most of the ire will be directed toward us, of course, but I understand that some will fall on him, and that he doesn't deserve it. I'll make sure it's known that he did his best to speed our return, and how the delay was due to our defending the Empire's citizens from threats brought on by the traitor Cyron. Through that, I'll ensure he avoids any backlash, and might be considered something of a hero for being able to drag us away from our duties at all."
I smiled and leaned in to press my lips to hers. "As long as we're able to shield him from the consequences of our actions, I'll be happy."
"And the fact that you remember to protect him at all is one of the reasons why I..." she stopped mid-sentence. I knew the word she was trying to avoid, and yet came closer and closer to saying each time we were together like this. Speaking one's mind while wrapped up together after a delicious session of lovemaking came naturally. Especially under our very unique circumstances.
Our return to the Capital after five days of travel showed a welcome view of the city quickly being rebuilt. The people had taken cooperation with the new elf citizens very seriously, and their combined efforts were already visible from beyond the city's limits.
Where Cyron's golems had torn through most of the city, leveling and destroying almost every building that they encountered with destructive enthusiasm, there was little that could be rebuilt from the ruins. Most of the outermost edges of the city were still in pieces, but the closer we came, the more we saw that the ruined buildings—the ones beyond repair, that is—were being torn down, with the stones and bricks used to build new buildings with stronger foundations. Homes and businesses filled the empty spaces. Stalls were opened in the busier areas of the new city. There was life in the midst of all the destruction. Despite everything, people seemed to thrive, surpassing anything that might tear them down.
But as we drew closer and passed through the barriers that were erected in the absence of the walls that would be built later, there was a hint of tension in the air. There were new Lancers patrolling the streets. Where those who had fought in the battle had made do with rougher inferior armor for lack of anything else, thanks to Cyron's actions, these looked like their weapons hadn't been blunted on the hard clay and stone of golems and unyielding skulls of undead monsters.
Where the ones that we'd rescued from imprisonment in their dungeons felt more like the rest of the people, these seemed to have the same attitude that I remembered the man in black and red armor wore like a cloak. They were arrogant, as though whatever they did was more important than anything or anyone else who crossed their path, and people had better make sure that they made way for them as they marched through the streets.
More importantly, I noted, where the veterans of the battle stood alongside the elves who had arrived in the nick of time, these newcomers were less grateful. Their eyes held the kind of judgment that I assumed was found in those who started the fighting all those years ago. As Aliana, Noral, Braire and I made our way toward the Emperor's Palace, I noted the disgust in their eyes as they watched the four of us walk together.
"Damned pointy-ears," one of them growled in passing. "Wish they’d done the world a favor and just stayed extinct.
I reached out and grabbed Braire's arm as I watched a pair of blades materialize in her hands, ready to dive into a fight that would teach the asshole a lesson. The three Lancers noted her reaction and quickly drew their weapons in response.
Things went bad faster than anticipated as Aliana jumped to her sister's defense. The Lancers hadn't noticed her wings and horns until she stepped in front of them, knives in her hands and a gleam in her eyes, ready to slash throats open with the beautiful grace of a dancer. Noral quickly drew on her power to strike as well. The Lancers sensed this and raised their weapons to start a fight. This was a common occurrence, I realized. They had intentionally insulted the three women in hopes that they’d react poorly, and give the Lancers the excuse of self-defense.
Fuck that.
I drew my sword and stepped between them, hoping the fact that I didn't have pointed ears would give the Lancers pause in their efforts to start a fight. While I held a hand back to keep Aliana and Braire from starting something we’d all regret, the fact that my blade with its glowing runes pointed at the Lancers, ready to attack, showed whose side I was on if the situation deteriorated further.
"Walk away," I snarled, as I placed the glowing blade inches away from the closest Lancer's neck. I doubted he could tell, but a moment of inattention on my part would end with a blast that would cut his head off without too much effort. It might be enough power to kill the man behind him, too.
The three armored men stopped and looked around, trying to find some way they could peel away from this fight with their dignity intact. I wasn't going to give them that option. They had insulted my friends. While I intended to let them walk away with their lives, I wasn't in a forgiving mood at the moment.
"Sheathe your weapons and continue your rounds," I said as they hesitated, once I saw their intention of staying their violent course return to their eyes. "Or you will regret it."
I wasn't talking to the three of them, but rather focused the full extent of my rage, currently corralled under an iron grip, on the one who was an eye-blink away from a violent death. Addressing the group would bond them together, but singling the one man out, reminding him that if he didn't do as he was told it would end with him dying first, would cause him to think of his safety above honor and dignity.
He was the first to step away. He visibly gulped as he sheathed his sword and walked off, his need to survive overcoming his dislike of elves for the moment. I didn't doubt that he would continue his ill-advised ways, but at least he couldn't claim that he hadn't been warned if he tried this shit again and got himself killed for his efforts.
The other two quickly followed their apparent leader's example as they jogged away to try and catch up with him.
I kept my sword ready until they were out of sight. Once they were gone, it dropped to my side. My muscles trembled with the need to engage in violence. I drew a deep breath and tried to sheathe my sword. I missed the first two times but finally succeeded on the third.
"That was well handled, Grant," Noral said. I saw the need to strike at something—anything, really—in her eyes as well. So much time living with the need to defend ourselves had made restraint one of the skills that we had little practice in. Well, for them, anyway. Thankfully for us, and the three Lancers who were still alive, I had spent most of my time since the battle training to control my quickly-growing power. It had paid off today.
I wondered if it was worth it, though. It wasn't as though reminding these men that the elves had teeth as well would do anything to stop them from acting
on their hate again. In fact, it might make it worse as they tried to restore their tainted honor by picking a fight with someone who was less eager to fight back. However, it wouldn't do for us to cut down the first Lancer patrol we came across within minutes of our return to the Imperial City.
"We should keep moving," Cal said, and I turned around. I had almost forgotten that he was there. His eyes were wide and his face was pale. He seemed rather terrified by what he had just seen, and more so by what he hadn't. Imagination always trumped reality when it came to the horrors of violence.
"Agreed," I said. I kept my voice firm and steady as I placed a hand on Aliana's shoulder and pulled her away from thoughts of pursuing the trio as they beat a hasty retreat. I inhaled to calm myself down, and felt the same sense of control wash through my bond to the other three.
Braire smiled when she noticed my attempt to keep the peace, and punched me gently in the shoulder as we moved through the streets. The tension seemed restricted to the new Lancer patrols, I mused, the ones whose lives weren’t saved by the elves.
As we made our way through the streets, more and more of the men in shiny armor made themselves apparent. There were a few who seemed annoyed by the presence of the three sisters. Others looked indifferent. As we drew closer to the center of the city, more of them eyed us with a different look—half angry, half afraid—which made me realize that word had spread about the three elves, not only from the Lancers we’d sent on their way, but due to the fact that we had been summoned. I assumed that word had spread saying that we were not to be harassed since we were here to speak to the Official, who was the one to bring all these new Lancers.
I didn’t know that for certain, of course, but it was an informed assumption. I shook my head. I had hoped that this sort of thing was in the past, that humans and elves living together, having fought and died with each other, would form a sort of peace. But no, here we were, same old problems, same old solutions.
