Affinity for War

by Frank Morin

  Martys roared with laughter, and the others joined in. It felt good to talk about times when such silly misadventures had seemed so earth shattering.

  "Thanks for the story," Verena said, still chuckling. "I don't think I would've heard that any other way." She actually gave Martys a warm smile. "You've got a gift for getting people to talk."

  "I cannae think of a better way to pass the time while working."

  While they installed a pair of extra-long speedslings full of deadly hornets along the base on both sides of the craft, Connor asked, "What are you going to call it?"

  While Verena considered the question, Ilse suggested, "How about the Raptor?"

  "It may not be that nimble," Verena said. "Although it will be extremely fast."

  "You give name," Anika prodded as she fastened the last of the control rods to the front panel.

  "It'll come to me," Verena promised

  "Maybe after you take it up for the first time," Kilian suggested.

  "Well, we're nearly finished," Connor told Verena. "We just need to attach the main thrusters. Are you sure you brought the right ones? The only quartzite I see back here are replacements for the windrider."

  "Those are the ones. Like I said, I designed it to be fast."

  Connor whistled softly. Fitted with thrusters designed to move the enormous windriders, the smaller craft might fly right out from under them.

  It took only a few minutes to install the thrusters, then Connor clambered up onto the high front seat beside Verena. "It's ready for you to inspect."

  Verena kissed his cheek. "I'm amazed you got so much done."

  "Thank Martys. He did most of the work."

  Martys perched on a crate of supplies behind the bench, looking at ease in the sky. "Ye have talent for design, lass. Made me job easier."

  "I can't wait to test it," Verena said.

  "Go check it out," Connor suggested. "This wagon will keep flying, right?"

  She gestured south toward a line of hills they were quickly approaching. "We're almost to Harz Fortress."

  A moment later they got their first view of the walled fortress. The sun was already low on the western horizon, and late afternoon shadows made it hard to see a lot of details from so far out.

  The fortress was gray walled and grim, with an outer curtain wall, a thick inner wall, and a compact, solid-looking keep, surrounded by several tall towers. A large lake just north of the fortress reflected crimson-tinged clouds, and a sizable town spread from the fortress and along the northeastern side of the lake.

  They had to be getting close to the pass because the mighty Maclachlan Mountains blocked the southern horizon, and they could clearly make out the snowy peak of Mount Macduib. Connor reminded himself to learn the Grandurian names for the mountains, but it was a bit confusing sometimes to think of places having multiple names. Seemed a waste of time somehow.

  Kilian pointed toward the fort. "Let's land at Harz. Hopefully they'll know what happened."

  Verena pointed. "From the number of troops I see, we're looking at the army."

  Kilian frowned. "That would mean the pass is lost."

  "Not surprising if'n what ye said about elfonnel be true." Martys said.

  "Perhaps," Kilian said, still frowning.

  "If that's the army, I'll try Hamish," Verena said. After a brief pause she asked, "Hamish, can you hear me?"

  Hamish's voice echoed from her helmet almost immediately. "Verena! It's so good to hear your voice. Where are you?"

  "We're en route to Harz. We know there was an elfonnel."

  "We killed it." Hamish sounded close to tears, not exultant with victory like he should.

  "Then did you hold the pass?" Verena asked. Connor and Kilian both leaned closer to hear.

  "No. I'm here at Harz with Jean. We're with Wolfram. Get down here, and we'll explain."

  "Can you tell me more?" Verena prodded.

  "Just come down." Hamish sounded exhausted. "I don't want to tell it twice."

  "We'll be there soon."

  The push thrusters roared louder and the wagon shuddered as it accelerated. As they drew within a mile of the fortress with its massed army, they passed a hovering windrider with a Pathfinder in the back, flown by a hugely overweight Builder. Verena waved, but Kilian urged her to keep going.

  Connor spotted two other windriders hovering high over the valley in the distance. He wondered how many were stationed up there. A Pathfinder could see for miles from that vantage, even in the gathering gloom of early evening.

  They flew low over the open lands around the fortress, slowing as they passed over the massed troops. There were so many that they camped all around the fortress and up around the western side of the lake, across from the town. Their hundreds of campfires twinkled like the first stars of the evening.

  "That's a lot of soldiers," Jean said.

  "But not as many as there should be," Kilian replied, his expression grim. "There were nearly thirty thousand stationed at the pass. Unless Wolfram's got more hidden away somewhere, what I see there doesn't look like nearly enough."

  They landed in a small courtyard behind the central fort, beside a couple parked windriders. A sergeant was already waiting for them, and he whisked them into one of the towers overlooking the fortress.

  They found General Wolfram in a large conference room filled with worried-looking officials and packed with tables covered in maps and charts. Connor did not miss the fact that a pair of Boulders remained stationed by the door, watching him and Martys with the intensity of men eager to find any excuse for violence.

  The broad-shouldered general looked the same as Connor remembered, although a frown creased his brows. During all the battles of Alasdair, Connor had never seen the man look so ruffled.

  Wolfram greeted Kilian warmly. "My old friend, I've never been happier to see you. I wish you'd been with us this morning."

  "Me too. What happened?"

  "The worst-case scenario." Wolfram puffed out his long mustaches. He turned to Verena and grasped her hands. "As always, it is a pleasure to see you, my dear."

  Verena gave him a hug. "We were so worried. Did you lose a lot of people?"

  "More than we can afford."

  Wolfram turned to Connor next, and his gaze seemed to bore deep, just like the last time they met in Alasdair. The general extended a hand. "And Connor. You have experienced much since I saw you last."

  Connor took the hand. "Seems the entire world has changed."

  "Let us hope we can set it right again. Thank you for coming."

  Connor had respected Wolfram even during those trying days of conflict around his home. He knew now that Dougal was his enemy, but wasn't quite ready to believe Wolfram was a friend. The man was a general, and he would leverage every resource to his advantage, including Connor.

  Martys saluted. "Evenin', General. I've heard much about ye, but dinnae think to meet ye without beating past all yer guards first."

  Wolfram sized up Martys in an instant. "What brings a Grandurian Boulder here? You're either a man of uncommon bravery or a wondrous lack of sanity."

  Martys shrugged. "Cannae say I'm worth getting up to high doh over, General." He gestured at Connor with a thumb. "I be here lookin' after me nephew."

  "See that you keep out of trouble," Wolfram warned. "And don't wander far or I cannot guarantee your safety. My men are rather keyed up right now."

  "We'll keep an eye on him," Ilse promised. Erich and Anika nodded enthusiastically.

  Wolfram turned back to Kilian. "What do you know?"

  "Not enough. I know there was an elfonnel."

  "Did you know the heroic actions of a pair of Builders saved us from catastrophic defeat?"

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  "The fool celebrates ascending the foothills when the ultimate peak is still in sight."

  ~Evander

  Wolfram sent for Hamish, Jean, and Anton. While they were waiting, Wolfram described the battle at the pass and their retreat.


  "You said two Builders stopped it?" Connor asked.

  Hamish and Jean entered the room, followed by Dierk, and it was clear they had been grieving. Jean's eyes were bloodshot, Hamish looked pale, his eyes a little wild. Dierk had a hollow, numb look in his eyes.

  Wolfram said, "Hamish was one of the heroes of the day."

  Hamish shook his head. "Ingrid was the hero."

  "Where is she?" Verena asked, looking toward the door.

  Hamish's shoulders slumped, and fresh tears glinted in Jean's eyes. Dierk spoke through a sob. "She tried to take the bomb to drop on the monster."

  "Oh, no, she wasn't ready to fly alone!" Verena gasped.

  "She did it, though." Jean said.

  "And that monster ate her," Hamish growled. "She managed to activate a shieldstone, but it wasn't strong enough to protect her in the monster's belly."

  "I'm so sorry." Connor saw the same remembered terror in Verena's eyes that he felt.

  "I tried to save her," Hamish said, his voice anguished. "But my bomb didn't break open its belly like we hoped."

  Jean said, "When it didn't, Ingrid realized she was trapped, but her shieldstone was running out. She had the bomb in there with her, and somehow she triggered it."

  "Oh, Ingrid," Verena whispered, tears in her eyes. "She was too young to face a choice like that." Dierk began to sob, and she moved to his side and hugged him.

  "I couldn't save her," Hamish said, looking at Connor with overwhelming sorrow.

  "I should have been here," Dierk lamented. "If I had come earlier, she wouldn't have died."

  Connor had only barely met Ingrid, but he had liked the girl. It was clear that the others who knew her had loved her.

  "She killed it," Hamish said. "The second bomb destroyed that monster." He pulled a mangled-looking breadstick out of his pocket and started raising it to his mouth, but sighed, and extended it to Connor. "I can't eat anything right now, but it feels wrong if no one does."

  Connor took it, deeply moved by his friend's grief. That tiny gesture told him more about how much Ingrid's death had affected Hamish than any number of words he might have used.

  The breadstick looked worn, as if Hamish had pulled it out of his pocket only to return it again more than once. Connor usually avoided food from Hamish's pockets, but this time he took a big bite. Sometimes friends had to make sacrifices for each other.

  Kilian gripped Dierk's shoulder. "We will honor her once we drive out the invaders. She helped prevent an unthinkable catastrophe."

  Wolfram huffed into his long mustaches. "The unthinkable part is that Dougal would dare raise an elfonnel at all."

  "He did it at the Carraig," Connor pointed out. "And he targeted his own people. It shouldn't surprise you he'd do the same thing against you."

  "I underestimated him," Kilian said with a frown.

  "How could you have guessed?" Wolfram asked. "No one has broken that treaty since the founding of Granadure."

  "What treaty?" Connor asked.

  Kilian said, "The Baltray Treaty. Every nation on the continent swore to never use elfonnel in battle again."

  "Why would they agree to that?" Verena asked, sharing a puzzled look with Connor. "Elfonnel are the strongest weapons."

  "The cost is too high," Kilian said. "Remember, after the Tallan Wars, the majority of the most powerful Petralists were dead. The nations were reeling, on the brink of losing all access to the elements. The empire had sundered, and every powerful Petralist was desperately needed."

  He continued, "Worse, raising too many elfonnel can destabilize the elements and trigger catastrophes. During one pivotal battle of the Tallan Wars, just below what is now Althing, no less than five elfonnel clashed.

  "It was too many. An entire corner of the continent broke free and sank into what are still known today as the Broken Waters on the eastern side of the Sea of Olcan."

  Connor grimaced as he tried to imagine such a disaster.

  "To protect the integrity of the continent, all nations agreed to the Treaty of Baltray, and it has remained inviolate until now."

  "Dougal broke the treaty for a reason," Wolfram said, his voice thick with disgust. "In his very first assault, he has declared his intent to wage unrestricted warfare upon us."

  Kilian said, "It appears the attack at the Carraig was Dougal's trial run. He has learned more about the deepest secrets than I had feared."

  "If he knows so much," Hamish said with a frown. "Why was the elfonnel at the pass smaller?"

  "At the Carraig, the elfonnel seemed to recover faster too," Jean added.

  "Well, we didn't hit it with bombs nearly as big," Hamish pointed out.

  Kilian had turned thoughtful. "Perhaps Dougal doesn't understand all the dangers. By raising a second earth-bound so soon after the Carraig, he risked destabilizing the mountains all along the border. Additionally, the elements need time to regenerate. The elfonnel at the Carraig consumed vast energies."

  "Are you saying that elements can run out?" Connor asked.

  "No. There is always earth and water and air, and fuel to burn in fires. But when too much elemental power is consumed, as would happen by raising too many elfonnel, the elements revolt. The nations would be shattered before anyone could exhaust them."

  "Let's not upset them then," Connor urged, and Verena nodded.

  The door opened and Anton entered. He looked unchanged from when Connor had met him briefly during the battles of Alasdair. His dark hair still held a hint of gray, and his black-eyed gaze held the same heavy weight.

  He saluted Dierk. "The young sapling extended over the torrent may save a desperate soul, but the scent of the candle extinguished early lingers in the air."

  "How did you manage to hold the monster back?" Kilian asked.

  "Necessity is an unyielding mother, and desperation a teacher without rival."

  "Could you do it again?" Kilian asked.

  After only a brief hesitation Anton said, "The jackals united may bring down the mighty lion, but the wolf scatters the flock unprepared."

  "We may never have so many Sappers together and ready to fight as a single unit again," Kilian said.

  "Don't count on the fact that we could stop another one," Anton said. "We would not have held it long, even without the additional assault of the Obrioner vanguard."

  Connor shared an incredulous look with Verena, and Hamish exclaimed, "Wait a minute! You just spoke clearly. I didn't think Sappers did that."

  Anton smiled. "Do you suppose that we forget the simpler forms of speech when we choose to speak the language of deeper contemplation?"

  "Why do you do it then?" Connor asked.

  "Out of respect for the father of all Sentries. You have met Evander at the Carraig, yes?"

  "But he's Obrioner," Hamish protested. "You're Grandurian."

  Anton shrugged. "The earth knows his name, as do all who walk with it. He is the eldest, so we adopt the speech he has chosen."

  Kilian grunted. "That boy has always spent too much time alone. I think he started talking in those irritating rhymes just to annoy me."

  "Sentry speech started as a practical joke?" Connor asked. He couldn't quite bring himself to believe it.

  Anton looked offended and Kilian made a dismissive gesture. "Never mind. Just a long-standing pet peeve of mine."

  "I'm glad you shielded that rear guard below ground before the bomb struck," Hamish said. "Too many people died as it is."

  "The wolves slaughter even when hunger is sated, but the raging storm spends itself against the mountain."

  Connor felt a little better that Anton had used Sentry speak. It didn't feel right to speak with those who walked the earth without feeling frustrated afterward.

  Wolfram said, "I wish we had managed to save the power stores, especially the weakening powder."

  "They have the secret?" Verena exclaimed. "That's terrible."

  "And they could turn it against us," Kilian said with a frown.

  "I buried
the cache and left it shielded," Anton explained, again speaking in unsettlingly clear words. "But I suspect the Obrioners have unearthed it by now. The Dawnus who commanded the second wave appeared far too competent to miss it."

  "It was Ivor," Hamish said. "Made an impressive entry using the waters from the avalanche and the flames from Ingrid's bomb."

  "Sounds like Ivor," Connor said.

  "You know him?" Wolfram asked.

  "I consider him a friend." He hoped Ivor was all right.

  "Ye may not get the luxury of treating him such if ye meet on the battlefield," Martys said with a grimace from where he lounged against one wall. He'd been content to listen to the conversation, and Connor had forgotten he was there. "Same as me, yer old mates might be rippin' to kill ye."

  "If I get a chance to speak with him, he'll talk," Connor assured them. He had mentioned the truth about patronage, and he was sure Ivor would be eager to discuss it more.

  "The listening hub was overrun," Wolfram said. "Most of the ear-scouts escaped, but some remained too long, trying to coordinate the rear guard. I fear our supply of speakstones is compromised."

  Verena said, "We can shutter the power of the ones here, which will break the link with their twins. Then we can re-link them to new partners."

  "Perhaps soon," Wolfram said. "All of our remaining stones were gathered into a secure location, and the intelligence corps is enacting a complex charade to pass misinformation in case the Obrioners are listening."

  "Good idea," Kilian said. "How are defenses here?"

  "Solid, but not as strong as I fear they need to be. Even if the Obrioners do not raise another elfonnel, they will hold the advantage."

  "You trounced Carbrey at Alasdair," Connor pointed out.

  "And we will bring to bear every stratagem we can invent," Wolfram assured him. "But Carbrey fields more Petralists. He will be hard to beat."

  Connor decided to voice something he'd been mulling over for a while. "Have you considered combining your various affinity forces to magnify their effectiveness?"

  Wolfram looked thoughtful. "We do tend to keep the various affinities isolated. Specialization of each group is a mighty weapon."