“By the Gjoll,” Isaac cursed. “What are they doing all the way out there?”
“Looking for another Vault, I imagine,” she answered.
Gordon grunted. “Bloody wastes. Might as well concentrate on Svaldway. How many fighters do we have there?”
“About two hundred,” Bjorn answered. “Enough to defend the Longyer Town and the Vault with the walls and siege weapons we’ve erected around the perimeter.”
“Walls won’t protect from airships,” Gordon muttered.
“Walls armed with cannons will,” Bjorn replied.
“And where were your cannons when you were attacked on Bacchuso?”
“Those cannons weren’t designed to withstand an attack from the skies. We’ve learned from that and responded appropriately with Svaldway’s defenses.”
Gordon grunted and folded his arms. He appeared pleased enough with the answer.
“You believe the Vault is well protected?” Thalia asked.
“I do. They’ve protected it for the past fifteen years. In that time no one from Ænæria has entered the Vault.”
“Might I add,” Rose said, “that even if Svaldway were to turn over to the Ænærians, they still wouldn’t be able to touch the Vault. The same goes for whatever they’re doing across the Shimmering Sea. Ben is the only living person able to enter it. And he’s far away from it.”
“Ah yes, this is something I’ve found rather concerning,” Kamir said. “Now, perhaps my ignorance is a result of this being the first meeting I’ve attended, but why have we sent such a valuable person out on a mission with so little protection? If something were to happen to him, we would lose our access to the Vault. Worse, if the Ænærians captured him then they could gain access.”
It would be so simple for Rose to simply inform Kamir that Ben had abilities beyond normal human limits. That was not for her to disclose. Ben had chosen to divulge that information to a select few. It was common knowledge that he was the only person able to access the Vault, which was explained as being a trait passed down to him from his mother’s side—not a lie, and not the whole truth either.
“My cousin is a very skilled fighter with an immensely powerful weapon. He is traveling with two very skilled companions armed with top of the line Ænærian technology. Plus, he has his wolf, which is just as invincible as the tales suggest.” She wanted to add that if anything were to happen to Ben, she would know about it. Müninn would let her know right away. Just another secret she needed to keep for now. There was only so much knowledge of ancient technology these people could squeeze into their brains at a time. Six moons ago, none of them knew what a Vault was. Now it was a piece of everyday conversation.
“His mission is of vital importance,” Alejandra added, with a nearly imperceptible tone of condescension toward Rose—as if she couldn’t handle this on her own.
“And what exactly is this vital mission?” Isaac asked.
“He is following a lead on another Vault.”
Gasps and grunts from the table and audience alike answered the comment. Apparently, this wasn’t common knowledge. Which begged the question: why not?
“How long is his mission expected to take?” Kamir asked.
“Likely a few moons, though we cannot say for sure,” Alejandra answered. “We do not know what he will find there. If anything.”
Scattered mumbling jumbled across the room. People didn’t like the idea of sending such a valuable asset out into the wasteland. Jarl Geon, of course, was the most vocal of this. “He should have been sent with a small army to escort him. Who knows what dangers lie by this new Vault?”
“He knew the risks when he decided to go,” Kristos said. Rose had actually been hoping he’d keep quiet longer than this. Though he was a disciplined warrior, he showed little restraint when it came to keeping his mouth shut. “Few people know Ben better than myself, so believe me when I say he knows how to handle himself. He’s too stubborn to let a mission like this go sour.”
Surprised by Kristos’s demeanor, Rose smiled and patted him on the shoulder as a gesture of thanks for supporting her.
“Very well then,” Geon said. “Let us continue with plans for what is ahead rather than brooding over what is already done.”
The next hour was spent debriefing the lieutenants from Talamdor and Mashariq and the other officers regarding the latest plans. Half of Talamdor’s foot-soldiers would remain within the Penteric Alliance borders to bolster defenses. Construction would begin immediately to fortify walls and construct watchtowers throughout the land, each equipped with radios courtesy of the Miners Guild. Roads were to be repaired as soon as builders were contracted. It would be difficult to make repairs while the roads were in heavy use, so it was agreed that the bulk of their reconstruction would be done after Talamdor’s forces arrived in Freztad and Mashariq. It would likely take up the better part of a year, but the result would be a revitalized infrastructure for the Penteric Alliance. They would no longer have five separate settlements with shared borders; they would be one nation with five united communities. Such a power would be a force to be reckoned with—a worthy adversary to the fourteen provinces ruled by fear and hatred.
Battle plans were discussed at exhausting length. Covering the table was a map of the Penteric Alliance and Ænæria overlain by carved figures at strategic military zones. Suns were scattered at each province and a conglomeration of figurines concentrated around Vänalleato. Kamir slid a group of sailboats up and down the Gjoll and then throughout the streams and rivers of Ænæria. The leaders moved their pieces across the board along the paths they’d take to reach the Plutonuan capital, Dark Helm. A single figure was moved to Parvidom, between Plutonua and Vänalleato. The Parvidom assault would clear the way for the large armies on their way to Plutonua. Meanwhile, Thalia and Geon moved other pieces to each settlement to show the defenses they’d have, and they calculated when those defenses would arrive. It looked like a solid plan to Rose, but then again, what did she know about strategy? The guild members had been in a covert war for years. Sydgilbyn had a bloody history with neighboring wastelander tribes. All the rest were at least trained in the art of war. Rose had none of that. Julius had invited her to council meetings, though none of them pertained to any battles. Either he trusted his legates with such matters, which she doubted, or he didn’t trust her. Still, she was learning.
Dark Helm was about a week’s march from Vänalleato. Meanwhile, a small party could make to Parvidom in three days. The key here was to maintain the element of surprise. Ænæria shouldn’t know that the Alliance was planning an invasion on this scale. The past few moons they’d simply fended off raids and sieges without giving any push back. Before they could even catch wind of anything, a handful of sentinels and guild members would ride for Parvidom, cutting off the massive trading center from sending supplies and reinforcements to Plutonua. While there, Rose would announce that she was the rightful heir of Ænæria. Hopefully, word would spread quickly through the rest of Ænæria and garner support in the Alliance’s favor.
These plans were reviewed in meticulous detail, down to the weapons used and exact number of arrows needed in each battalion. The Miners Guild supplied them with enough guns to arm every fifth soldier. They even managed to obtain two sungs which would go to jarl Geon and thane Morgiana, as they were the top military commanders.
Too many variables were at play to plan much of anything after the battles. Everything depended on the outcome, the number of causalities, and the amount of resistance met once they occupied Parvidom and Dark Helm. Ideally, they could continue to capture key locations like Cerez and Neptuan before making any attempt to invade Marzora and storm Ignistad.
At well past midnight, when the moon shined brightly through the clouds, Rose finally dismissed everyone. This would be the last time for quite a while that they would meet like this. Upon this realization, Rose also realized that it would be the last time they all met together. Some of these people were going to die. Ther
e was no avoiding that. Some names she would know. Most she wouldn’t. Death was coming to ravage the land, and she was playing an instrumental role. Her belly ached. Somehow reminding herself that this was just the nature of war didn’t ease her discomfort. The act of killing was a vile, cruel thing. She very much agreed with her cousin on that account. Yet it was tossed around like no big deal in the context of war. She didn’t like that. Not one bit. Especially since she knew, regardless of the outcome, her hands would be soaked in blood by the end of this. Rose shuddered at the thought of how many people she would end up having to kill on the battlefield. And she couldn’t even begin to fathom the number of people she would send to their death to fight her war.
20
Ben
Tatanka’s Cursed Grove
Thick leaves and twisted branches reached from all but the tallest buildings to the sky, covering the rooted roads in a dense blanket of shadow. Remnants of the Old Days lay scattered everywhere, like parts of the city had forgotten to wither and succumb to the growing forest. It was like they were stubborn reminders of the past that refused to go down without a fight. Even with his dilated pupil and night vision, navigating through the thick sylvan ruins was no simple task. Ben’s absent depth perception and coming migraine undid any advantage he held over the powerless wastelanders. After darting at half his top speed, he hit his head no fewer than four times on low-hanging branches, and once, he ran straight into the side of a crumbling brick wall. It wasn’t that he couldn’t control his speed—he’d had plenty of practice running the length of the Vault’s mountain twice a day during his final weeks in Svaldway—the problem was discerning the proximity of things around him. And in a dense forest like this one, pretty much everything was just waiting for him to run into it. Depth perception was something he had really taken for granted back when he had both eyes.
Ben had only run so quickly into the forest because he wanted to find Mandi and regroup with Darius as soon as possible. It wasn’t so much a concern for safety around the wastelanders. She knew how to stay hidden and handle herself. At least, she could from people. The ferals mentioned by the Orks were an unknown entity. He’d never heard of them, but whatever he’d seen streak by after Draka’s arrow was certainly worrisome. Soon after entering the Cursed Grove, Ben wiped away the streaks of blood on his forehead on some nearby foliage. Draka had said blood attracted the ferals, and Ben wanted as little to do with them as possible.
As soon as he no longer sensed anyone nearby, he called out to Hüginn. He’d seen the bird flying from above ever since they’d been taken by the Orks—observing but not interacting. It wasn’t far away and took less than a minute to swoop down next to Ben. He ordered it to find whichever of his friends was closest and lead them to Ben.
While he waited, Ben vaulted over a fallen layer of rubble and landed atop a house missing half its roof as if a giant had taken a bite from it. He hid there; no one could see him from this high, nor could they scale the loose brick wall. While he waited, he closed his eye and instead focused on the sound around him. People shouted. Sandals scuffed against rock and root. Insects chirped, and rodents scurried; the hooves and paws of beasts scampered against snapping twigs and crunching leaves. In the distance, water crashed against water with a mighty fury. Nothing out of the ordinary indicated the presence of the ferals. Except he didn’t know what he was looking for.
The raven cawed. Hüginn’s talons wrapped gently around Ben’s forearm and Mandi walked cautiously on the ground in her bare feet. He sent Hüginn back out took look for Darius and then slid down the side of the brick wall. Mandi shook with fright at the sudden impact, and then grew stiff as Ben couldn’t help himself from hugging her.
She loosened up a tad and hugged him back, albeit awkwardly at a foot and a half shorter than Ben. She let go abruptly, probably not used to be touched affectionately. He’d never seen much physical interaction between her and Alejandra. He didn’t know what her relationship with her father had been like. Maybe the hugging stopped after his death.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.”
Mandi smirked. “You’ve got the look of someone who’s seen a ghost. What’s gotten into you, Limmetrad?”
He didn’t realize he looked so terrified. “Something about these ferals doesn’t sit well with me. I can’t sense anything all that different out here. Just people and animals.”
“Relax. Focus on the mission.”
“Right. I’ve sent Hüginn to find Darius right after bringing you here. Once we get him, we can head to the Mouth of Ney. I already know where it is.”
“I do, too,” Mandi said. “We just need to follow the sound of crashing water.”
Ben suppressed a grin. She’s clever. She even wiped away the blood, too.
“Think Darius has figured it out yet?” she asked.
“I doubt it. He’s a soldier, and not one trained to think for himself. He’s taught to take things literally. Which he’s good at. But I don’t think the Rhion really encourage abstract thinking. Darius probably thinks the Mouth of Ney will literally call him or that it’s some other pagan belief.”
“Using Hüginn is a good start, except we’re wasting our time standing out in the open doing nothing.”
“You have a better idea?” Ben asked.
Mandi rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder which of us is descended from a superior race.”
“I never said they were superior…”
“Use your brain, Ben. Actually, don’t. Use your nose.”
“Oh. Right.” Why didn’t I think of that? He figured it was probably due to his sheer fatigue. He couldn’t imagine how tired Mandi must have been. Supposedly, he was the one with massive energy reserves. He never knew where the extra energy came from. Eating extra meals couldn’t explain all of it, especially since he only ate a lot in Svaldway during his heavy training. That was more so his body could endure the beating he was constantly putting it through. And here Mandi was, on top of her game, and she didn’t even show any bags under her eyes. He may have been gifted by his ancestry, but it seemed that even genes were no substitute for years of experience. And when it came to experience traveling without food or sleep, Mandi had Ben beat by a long shot.
Ben closed his eye and covered his ears. He inhaled deeply through his nose. He concentrated on every scent. There was the musty odor of the autumn mold. He could sense the stench of rotting carcasses from deep in the Cursed Grove. Either the scavengers hadn’t yet reached them or whatever killed them couldn’t be bothered to clean up their mess. Then there was the sweaty musk of Orks and wastelanders. There were so many of them that they were impossible to distinguish from one another. The volume of body odors was overwhelming. There was no way to separate the smells to pinpoint Darius’s personal scent, and the sweat already drenching Mandi’s new clothing was the strongest since it was right next to him. But there was a hint of her perfume, too. Dandelions and tangerines. An odd yet unique fragrance. So distinct that he detected traces of it on himself from spending so much time with her. He concentrated harder, just a little bit more to avoid overstimulating himself; he was already starting to feel lightheaded. There! A small whiff of tangerine moving about a mile or so away.
Ben opened his eye and lost his footing. Mandi caught him just in time. She softened his fall to the floor of leaves and rubble.
“I gotcha, Ben,” she said softly. There was a motherly concern in her voice. “Deep breaths.”
He did as she said. In through the nose, out through the mouth. After five minutes, the migraine subsided to a throbbing ache. It was painful. Distracting. But it was bearable. That was close. I’ve further exceeded my limits than I realized. He needed to rest and rejuvenate. Using his powers more would be dangerous for both himself and those around him.
He got back to his feet and pointed again toward where he had sensed Darius. Mandi nodded and gestured for him to lead the way. He wasn’t actively smelling Darius, so he couldn’t determi
ne his exact position. He estimated a rough location based on the scent’s trajectory. They walked through the trees and broken homes and shops briskly but not so fast as to be careless. They avoided puddles, thick branches, and piles of broken stone to avoid detection.
Despite the stabbing headache—which Mandi couldn’t stop apologizing about—using his sense of smell to find Darius had been a terrific idea. Hüginn hadn’t returned to Ben until they were only a few minutes away from finding him. Even if it hadn’t been for the raven, they probably would have found Darius with the commotion he’d gotten himself into. The urban jungle was massive, and Mandi and Ben hadn’t seen a soul besides each other since the test had begun. They figured their odds of running into anyone else were pretty slim given the way they were all split up.
Darius, of course, managed to get into a fight. A wastelander was on top of him, pressing Darius’s face against the rocky ground. Darius had one hand gripped around the wastelander’s, trying to move it from his face. His other hand was likewise against his attacker’s face, clawing and attempting to poke out the man’s eyes. Without warning, the two rolled over, and Darius was now on top. He landed a few good blows against the wastelander’s jaw before finding himself in another standstill. Then Ben saw the wastelander release the grip of his right hand. It patted against the ground until it found a stone the size of a fist. The wastelander grabbed hold of it and raised it against Darius’s head.
Ben should have been fast enough to stop it. He could have flown through the trees and rubble in an instant and stopped the man from bashing Darius’s skull in. But he didn’t. His reaction time was slow, and he was still suffering the effects of overusing his powers while low on fuel.
Mandi’s reaction time, on the other hand, was excellent. She didn’t seem to have any need to think and assess the situation. Just as Ben had realized the stone was about to connect with Darius’s head, Mandi was already there. She sprinted and slid through the leaves on her knees just in time to grab the man’s wrist and twist it into quite an unnatural position. The man yelped and dropped the stone. The wastelander looked stunned. Darius took the chance to punch him, again and again, until the man was out cold. All while Ben just stood there. Powerless. It was over as soon as it had begun, and Ben didn’t even know what had just happened.
The Heir of Ænæria Page 24
