Resurgence

by Alex Janaway

  ‘Well, there is at least no shortage of that, I suppose. Thank you, Father, for your service to me. You have, as always, been my loyal right hand. Please take me to this cabin. We have much work to do, you and I. And when our people come home, they will be put to the task of rebuilding. Vyberg will rise again.’

  Michael approached the Emperor’s pavilion that had been erected in the warehouse ruins opposite their camp. A flag was fluttering at its highest point. The Sun banner. He couldn’t remember when he had last seen it. Some time back in New Tissan, but that seemed like an age ago. He ducked inside and allowed his eyes to adjust to the gloom. The layout had not changed since it had been used on the Barren Atoll. When was that? Three years ago? The outer atrium was quiet. There was no hustle and bustle of court servants and nobles. There were precious few of the first left and almost none at all of the latter. The Arch Cardinal had seen to that. No, I saw to it. Michael had their blood on his hands, and Yarn had taken care of the rest, clergy and military. He stood with his hands clasped in front of him, wondering what to do next when a dividing curtain was pulled aside and a beaming Father Llews emerged.

  ‘Father Michael! Thank you for coming to the summons.’

  ‘Father, it my honour and sacred duty,’ Father Michael said, with a bow of his head.

  Father Llews’ smile grew even wider as he scuttled over and grabbed Michael’s arm. ‘Come, come,’ and he applied a gentle tug. His face shifted rapidly to worry, a deep frown creasing his face. ‘There are not many who the Emperor, praise Him, can trust. So many plotters, so many enemies. He needs his loyal followers close, no?’ he whispered.

  ‘Of course,’ Father Michael replied, but only because he felt he had to.

  ‘Good. Good!’ Father Llews said, rather loudly, and then they were through the curtain and into another chamber, lit by several candles. On the far side, was a small round table set with six chairs and four of them occupied: the Emperor, Admiral Lukas, Cadarn and surprisingly a Nidhal, Immayuk.

  The Emperor stood to greet him. ‘Father, welcome. You are the last. Please be seated and we can get on with business.’

  Father Michael took a chair in between Cadarn and the Admiral, who shot him a certain look. Father Michael knew what that meant; Lukas wasn’t happy. Though, to be fair, he seldom was. Father Llews took a seat on the right hand of the Emperor, the Nidhal had the left. That was … significant.

  As if picking up on his thoughts, the Emperor looked at Immayuk. ‘I have asked our dear friend to join us as the Nidhal representative. His command of our language is quite impressive, and he can report back to his brother all we discuss. And it means we no longer have to rely on less, ah, reliable means.’

  Father Michael felt himself scowl. He blinked and forced it from his face. What was that? An insult to my friend. My Ellen. He sucked in air and focussed. The Admiral was now talking.

  ‘And we’ve offloaded all we can. It is up to you now, Your Grace. I can keep station with my ships outside the old harbour to the north, if you wish. Not that we can get in there, it’s full of wrecks. I’m too far away to offer any direct support, but we can act as a means of escape.’

  ‘There’ll be no escape!’ Father Llews said, in a chastising tone.

  Father Michael felt the air grow cold.

  The Admiral fixed his eyes on Father Llews. ‘No. Not for you,’ he said quietly.

  Michael looked to the Emperor and to his credit, even His Grace realised, divine right or no, you don’t piss the Admiral off unnecessarily.

  The Emperor raised his hands in a placating gesture. ‘Gentlemen, please. The good Father was just echoing my own sentiments. I have no intention of escaping. Not again. Admiral, I understand your caution and welcome it. Perhaps it is wise to leave two ships on guard and send a third back to Aberpool? There to await the next fleet and assist in their onward passage.’

  ‘As you say, Your Grace,’ said Lukas, in a clipped manner. Father Llews dipped his head. Michael doubted that would be an end to the matter. And something else was troubling him, at the end of that exchange he had looked at Immayuk. The Nidhal were not necessarily that easy to read, but when Lukas had bitten back, Immayuk had tensed, like he was readying to launch himself at the Admiral. That hardly seemed right. Since when did they care so much about Tissan rivalries?

  ‘I am sure the cutters we have in place can carry us swiftly to you in case we wish to travel along the coast,’ the Emperor continued. He smiled and looked at Michael. ‘Now, on to the next step. It is truly wondrous news to discover that loyal Tissans continue the fight. It is about time they learned that their efforts are not in vain. That their Lord has returned.’

  ‘They will be invaluable in the coming campaign, Your Grace,’ added Father Llews.

  ‘Indeed, the intelligence they have will be most useful. But more than that, I need to know their numbers, what fighting strength they possess. Leader Cadarn?’

  ‘Your Grace?’

  ‘As it is one of your Riders that appears to be leading the struggle, it makes eminent sense that it should be you and yours who make contact.’

  ‘If it’s the Owen I know, it will be good to see him again. And to be honest, the idea of him leading the resistance seems quite … hard to accept. That’s not the lad I knew.’

  ‘You would be surprised what can happen in life,’ said Michael. ‘Things change.’

  Cadarn’s lips quirked into a smile. ‘I can’t argue with your experience, Father.’

  The Emperor tapped a hand on the table. ‘When we are done here, ready your Riders and head south. Let’s see if you can intercept this lad.’

  ‘Your Grace,’ Cadarn acknowledged.

  ‘Finally, we must soon decide what to do about our captives,’ the Emperor said, his face grave. Michael was confused, there were no captives. ‘The Gifted.’ Ah. Foolish of him. ‘I will not deny their usefulness, but we will soon be pricking the hornet’s nest. If they intend to betray us, it will be at the most critical moment, when the enemy will seek to gain any advantage over us.’

  Michael leaned forward and started to speak, he needed to say something, to defend them but the Emperor raised a hand.

  ‘I know, Father. You have suffered more than most at their hands, but you also understand the value of a weapon. And I respect that. But it is too much to risk. We have them shackled and chained. But their minds are their own.’

  Michael sat back. Perhaps it was best not to speak. Not now.

  ‘They have served us well, up ’til now,’ said the Admiral, relieving Michael of that burden.

  ‘Aye, they have, but …’ the Emperor gazed at Father Llews, ‘… we must move on from old teachings, from the old ways of doing things. The Empire was built not by Gifted but by the sweat of simple, common folk. By their love and adoration towards my forebears. And so it shall be again.’

  ‘But they are still tools,’ said Michael, emboldened to speak, anxious to level the balance. ‘The Watchers and Speakers under my command did as they were bidden. I believe they will still prove of service to you. Your Grace, in order to win, I will use anything and all to do so. A strategy must employ all options. Besides, as long as we guard them, restrain them, they are slaves to our fortunes. The enemy will not suffer them to live.’

  The Emperor leaned back and adopted a thoughtful pose. He turned to Father Llews who was tugging at his ears, like he was trying to lengthen them beyond their natural size. He looked in great pain, like he was having trouble understanding what Michael had just said. A look of surprise flashed across his face and he stopped tugging.

  ‘Oh. Yes. Father Michael’s wisdom does him credit. He is right. Until the other Nidhal come, we are still beholden to them.’

  The Emperor nodded in agreement. ‘Yes. The Nidhal shamans will give us the advantage, the element of surprise. The Gifted will have had their day soon enough, until then … we will continue to employ them.’ He rose, and everyone took to their feet.

  ‘Admiral, Leader. Look to y
our commands.’

  They both saluted and departed the room. Michael made to follow them, but the Emperor touched his arm. ‘Father, stay a moment longer.’ He stopped and saw that both Father Llews and Immayuk had also remained. What was this about?

  ‘Thank you for your words,’ the Emperor continued. ‘I fear that in my zeal I forgot that sitting among us is one of them.’

  ‘One of them?’ Michael frowned. What was this?

  ‘Leader Cadarn. It is so easy to forget he is no less an aberration than those we have already imprisoned,’ said the Emperor gravely.

  That word again.

  ‘Do not be angry with yourself, it is not your fault,’ said Father Llews kindly. ‘Is it not their way to pass among us unmarked? Without the tattoos we would never know they are all Gifted. Why, was I not saved by one? He was a young man, I liked him, perhaps he was even this Owen who we now seek.’

  Isn’t that the point? Michael did not like the comparison. The Riders were just people. They were not even like the other Gifted, they had no upbringing in the Schools, no restraints on the behaviour. They were just people. Bryce swore so much, he could’ve been a marine.

  ‘We have all been saved by them, Your Grace. Is that not so? Our fortunes turned on their unquestioning loyalty,’ he said. Yet again pushing himself forwards in a way he would not have done but a year ago.

  The Emperor sighed deeply. ‘Michael speaks the truth, and my honour demands I acknowledge it.’

  Father Llews looked at Michael oddly. Like he was some unusual creature he had never seen before. ‘I suppose the facts are undeniable,’ he acknowledged.

  ‘Then what do you advise?’ He looked at Michael first.

  Michael knew he had to be careful. He had to treat this like he was facing an opponent. He chose his words carefully. ‘Your Grace, your safety is my only concern. The reclaiming of Tissan is all important. I must find a way to see both achieved. I believe with all my heart that the Eagle Riders are loyal and they will be critical in our coming battles. But if I for one moment doubt that belief, I will kill them all myself.’

  The Emperor’s eyes widened a little.

  ‘Father, you constantly surprise me. Yes, they have been our comrades in arms for many moons. Perhaps I am being too harsh, judging them by the standards of their lesser kin.’ He turned to Father Llews. ‘Father?’

  Father Llews rocked back on his haunches, shoved his hands into his sleeves and hunched his shoulders, his neck disappearing into his robes. He did this for several seconds and Michael risked an incredulous look the Emperor’s way, but he was watching the Father with intense interest. Finally, Father Llews popped his head back up. ‘Hum!’ he announced. ‘Vigilance! Yes. Father Michael is right. We must employ them, bend them to your Imperial will, but do not trust them. It is not their upbringing that makes them dangerous, it is the Gift that twists and warps their minds, turns them from the natural order, the truth faith. Yet perhaps their Highland ways inure them, to a degree. But it will not last forever.’

  ‘Then it is settled,’ announced the Emperor. ‘Father Michael. I charge you with the vigilance that Father Llews has cautioned. They trust you and respect you. So watch them, as one friend watches another.’

  ‘I will do just that, Your Grace.’

  ‘And when the fighting is done, we will consider again their future,’ he said, tilting his head in deference to Father Llews, who bobbed happily.

  ‘Now, Father Michael, will you please excuse us, I wish to talk to our Nidhal friend.’

  ‘Of course.’ He had forgotten Immayuk was even there. The Nidhal had sat quietly through the entire exchange.

  Michael left the tent, walking quickly through the outer atrium and into bright sunlight, though his thoughts were dark and depressing. There had been sense in the work the Arch Cardinal had given him. Sense in cleaning house. He even approved of the imprisonment of certain Gifted. But must they all be damned? He knew there were good Gifted, knew that some had never strayed from the light. Not the Riders, not Ellen. They had no stain on their souls other than an accident of birth. He knew a little about that. If he could be forgiven, why not they?

  He stood still and looked into the sky, then turned to speak to Father Llews, eager to know more of why he he’d so taken against the Gifted. ‘Fath–’ He stopped. Father Llews had not come with him. He had never left the Emperor’s side.

  CHAPTER 33 – OWEN

  There was an ominous front of black clouds on the horizon, and the haze below it meant rain. Great. Owen found that even among the skies, he couldn’t escape his sober thoughts. He had had to leave Brevis, there was no choice. But knowing that made little difference. He had left his people, again, after all they had endured. That they were safe he was in no doubt. Whatever Cade and the survivors may be, they were still Tissans. But that wasn’t the problem. The wood elves knew where they were. For the twentieth time, he told himself that they were in no position to attack. They had next to no one to do it with. It would take time to muster another force, time for them to travel the miles to the Brevis Sea. They would be fine, at least for the moment.

  The rain clouds were coming closer. He shivered in anticipation. Should they go higher? It was easy to get turned about. Above the clouds then? It would be colder but they would be dry. Arno would appreciate that, ‘Wouldn’t you, lad?’ But Arno made no comment, his head was moving slightly from side to side, looking for predators and prey.

  Owen turned his head. A little way off to his right, Jussi and Ayolf were keeping station, watching their backs. He waved and pointed skywards. Jussi waved back. Owen could have just pulsed to him, but liked to communicate without it, it reminded him that the other Riders worked without any Gifts of Speaking, using just their voice and leg pressure. However, he had no problem with his bird and Owen pulsed his commands, Arno responding, taking them up. He leaned forward, feeling Arno’s efforts. ‘Good eagle, Arno. You’ll thank me later.’ Though probably Arno wasn’t bothered, he was far better prepared for rain then Owen could ever be. As the black clouds loomed, they began to fall below his field of vision, and soon they were cruising above the dark, rolling blanket. He recalled Jenna telling him of a time she had seen a fellow Rider brave a storm and be struck by lightning. It had not ended well.

  Definitely the best decision.

  His thoughts drifted to his meeting with the ogres. Would they even be there? To say they were unpredictable was an understatement. But without them, life would be much harder. They needed a hammer, something that would shock the enemy, as much as his decision to destroy Eagle’s Rest. If he had learned anything, it was the fragility of morale. What a boost it would be to his people, to all those now scattered across the old empire. The fighting in the Highlands had shown that, even in victory, the numbers of Tissans who could fight grew fewer with each engagement. There was only so far he could go. And that meant no strike into the Heartlands or the Dwarf Nations – though he believed Cade and her people might have already done that. Just think, if they could smash the enemy, break their will in one clash. Perhaps that was all that was needed. He thought of Lila. If the enemy learned to fear, to consider the repercussions of their actions, then she and the other Erebeshi would have a chance to truly rebuild. That dream was worth everything. Worth the sacrifice he and those who followed him were prepared to give. But what of Cade? Would she follow? She must. She had to.

  He blinked.

  Beneath him the skies were clear. How long had he been daydreaming? ‘Come on, Arno, let’s head down.’ He looked back and motioned to Jussi.

  As they descended, Owen spied the glistening light, the millions of raindrops hanging from countless leaves, branches and grass stems, reflecting the sun’s rays above. He felt his heart lift a little. The world looked clean. And then he looked to the land ahead. The gently rolling hills, copses and spider’s web of watercourses that made up the Riverlands, the heart of the Empire. He blinked again. Something was there, in the sky. Birds? He couldn’t tel
l. There were four of them. Were they coming or going? No, coming nearer. There was something about them. Like they were in formation.

  ‘Owen? You see that?’ Jussi’s voice was full of concern.

  ‘ Yes.’

  ‘What are they? Bees? Are they buzzers?’

  Owen shook his head. That made no sense. He had seen no elf outposts on his last foray north. What else then? He felt a vice squeeze his chest.

  ‘Jussi? I think they’re gryphons.’

  ‘Oh shit.’

  They had to move.

  ‘Jussi, listen to me. We have to break and run. Turn around now. Head back towards the rain clouds. We’ll try and lose them in there.’ It was their only chance. When gryphons got a scent, they were tenacious bastards. ‘Turn now, Jussi. We have to catch those clouds!’

  He pulsed to Arno and the eagle banked sharply. ‘Dive!’ he wanted to get some speed behind them. Get to the clouds then wing upwards towards them. Anything to get some distance. Jussi was ahead, keeping level. He’d pass him soon, Arno was stronger. The boy looked behind him. ‘They’re gaining!’

  ‘Jussi, swoop down. Get–’

  ‘Owen? Owen, is that you?’

  Owen was stunned. That voice, it was familiar.

  Another voice entered his head. ‘Owen. Stop flying like a frightened idiot pissing his pants.’

  And that voice he definitely recognised.

  ‘Bryce? Bryce?’

  ‘Yeah. He fucking remembers.’

  ‘Emperor, Bryce. What in all–?’

  ‘Owen,’ the first voice chimed in. ‘How about you stop running?’ It was Cadarn.

  Owen twisted in his saddled. There they were. Four Eagles. Four Riders.

  ‘Owen?’ Jussi pulsed to him. ‘Who are they?’

  ‘It’s alright, Jussi. They’re friends. It’s alright.’

  Owen felt his cheeks stretch. He was grinning. And his vision blurred as the tears began to flow.

  CHAPTER 34 – KILLEN

  Killen halted Bajin and leaned forward, easing the pressure on his backside. A half-day’s ride southeast of Brevis had him in country that was verdant, gently rolling and populated with small woods and herds of wild horses. It was nice to be somewhere that was appreciably more like home.