Council of Blades (32 page)

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Authors: Paul Kidd

Tags: #Fantasy fiction, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Science Fiction, #Epic, #American fiction

BOOK: Council of Blades
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"Should I be able to smell cherries?"

The two humans both turned to look up at the gigantic chemical vats looming overhead. Shaatra the hippogriff and Tekoriikii both caught the sudden aura of fear and joined them in staring at the weapon in alarm.

A hissing cloud of pink steam escaped from the armored pipes and valves, and Lorenzo instinctively backed away.

"The explosion must have cracked the vats…"

"You mean those chemicals are going to mix?"

"Ummm…"

Miliana peered through a cloud of cherry-scented death.

"How big a bang will the damned thing make?"

"Um, well, a bench model the size of your hat blew up my old room at your father's palace."

"That's what I thought." The new, improved model weighed ten thousand times more. "Can we stop it from going off?"

"Um… no!" Lorenzo frenziedly sought the best route for escape. "Miliana-we have to run!"

"The hippogriff can't move!" Miliana pulled chocks from under the Sun Cannon's wheels. "Come on!"

"Miliana!"

"She saved Tekoriikii! We can't let her get blown to H'Catha!" Miliana planted her skinny shoulder blades against the back of the giant armored wagon. "Push! Come on, it'll roll downhill if we can get it moving. Tekoriikii-give a hand!"

The bird floundered up from where he had been con-templating his newly ruined tail. Ineffectually leaping and hopping up into the air, he tried to throw his weight behind the wagon. The injured hippogriff looked on in wonder as all three friends ignored the growing hiss of chemicals and tried to shove the gun downhill.

"It's too heavy!" Lorenzo searched about for a lever or a pulley. "I can't get it to move!"

Miliana stepped back, rolled up her sleeves, and sang out her last and only spell; the feather fall effect rippled the Sun Cannon with a gleaming purple skin, temporar-ily reducing the weapon's mass to nil.

"Now shove!"

A mighty heave sent the wagon on its way. Fifty feet long and three man-heights high, the juggernaut rolled down onto the road, picked up speed, and careened down toward the valley floor. The rearmost unit of Svarezi infantry looked back in alarm, then screamed as one as the wagon heeled slowly over and crashed down onto its side.

The entire valley floor lit with an explosion of violet light. Svarezi's reserve regiments disintegrated; others flung themselves down before a hail of debris. The Lomatran militia dove for cover, then crept slowly out to watch a cloud of reeking purple smoke fade and disap-pear.

Svarezi's battle lines were a crushed, molten wilder-ness of broken men and steel.

On the ridgeline high above, Lorenzo numbly helped Tekoriikii to his feet, then took a pace back to stare, dumbfounded, at the view.

"It does make rather a bad bang. Next time maybe I should use less cherries."

"What next time?" Miliana blinked into an out-of-focus world. "Did we win yet?"

"That just about does it." Lorenzo took another pace to his rear. "Oh! I've found your spectacles…"

"Really?" The girl eagerly reached out her hands. "Are they all right?"

"Um… not really. I've just trod on them."

Shaking her head, Miliana linked her arm through Lorenzo's and gazed off across the valley with a sigh.

Left to his own devices, Tekoriikii took a quick look left and right, then scampered off downhill and fluttered up into the reeking purple clouds.

*****
"Are we too late?"

"No, no, no, sir knight! I would say you are fortuitous-ly just in time." Spirelli the snail clung stickily to the back of a rather annoyed horse, peering his eyestalks out beneath his helmet brim. "I believe the time has come to charge and claim the day!"

Beside the snail, Orlando Toporello stood in his stirrups and signaled to his men. A thousand Sumbrian refugees, welcomed onto the battlefield by a slimy, charismatic snail, slammed down their lances and spurred into the charge. They swept past cheering Lomatran infantry-past dan-gling nets of snarling hippogriffs and streams filled with joyous nixies-and out into the plains to surround Svarezi's last remaining infantry.

Carried along throughout the charge, Spirelli remained close upon Toporello's heels. Toporello's men began to gather in the remains of Svarezi's army, reaping a rich har-vest of prisoners from the field.

Ignoring the fracas, the snail eagerly intruded himself into Toporello's field of view.

"Sir! Sir, since you have fought for no payment at all, I wondered if I might offer you the use of my own house, my own stables, and my own rations for your men? Just as a show of proper hospitality." The snail shouted to be heard above the cheers of exhausted men. "We could sign a little receipt if it makes you feel better-just for my own records, of course."

"I couldn't impose upon you, sir." Old Toporello brushed his mustaches back into proper order as he saw his princess, the Lady Miliana, standing watching him from high above. "You are not our employer, after all."

The snail extended its eyestalks in genteel emphasis as he rode at Toporello's side.

"We can soon see to such little niceties. Perhaps your men might each take a peppercorn from me as a token piece of pay?"

"Why not?" Toporello scowled, then dismissed the whole affair as some foreign idiosyncrasy. "Why not indeed! They've already received a peppercorn apiece from your prince."

The snail cursed under its shell as Toporello rode away, then spied a dazed company of Colletran prisoners. Slapping his horse into action, Spirelli swiftly rode over to the mercenaries' side.

"I say! Would any of you men care to undertake regu-lar work? Say, for the price of a meal tonight, a roof over your heads-and a peppercorn?"

18
In the clean sunlight of a Sumbrian dawn, the ravaged city almost seemed at peace. Light filtered through the clouds and lit the dirty streets and cluttered wards, sheeting everything with a film of purest gold. The abus-es of Svarezi's occupation still stood out like vulgar sores, but time would surely smooth the scars and blemishes away.

The age of city-states seemed dead and gone; Svarezi had ended Blade Wars for all time. First Colletro, Sumbria, and Zutria had been crushed down into one sin-gle state, and now Lomatra had helped forge a small alliance all its own. The "peppercorn vote" had swept the Blade Kingdoms in a rage; perhaps it was time to weld the tiny kingdoms into something greater overall.

Firstly, the abuses of war had to be soothed and healed. Walking the streets of her old, dear Sumbria, Miliana heaved a sigh. Palaces had burned and fallen, and the bricks had been roughly clamped together into ugly com-munal housing for the impoverished citizens. The river barges had to be rebuilt; hopefully with help from Princess Krrrr-poka's generous nixies; the coming harvest would not be stranded far upstream.

There were streets to clean and trees to seed, a council to rebuild and lives to find. With Lorenzo, Tekoriikii and Prince Rosso at her side, Miliana walked up the ruined steps of her old home.

Here, more than anywhere, the worst changes had come. The Mannicci palace now looked much the worse for wear, still showing the scars of a night of fireworks and frenzy so long ago. The towers had been used as Svarezi's prison, and the courtyards had been made into stables for his beasts of war. It seemed doubtful that the palace would ever be the same.

Guards ran ahead into the corridors to release Svarezi's prisoners. Weak, sickened men were led aside and taken into care, while Miliana winced at the foul stench emanat-ing from her old family haunts and halls.

"Ah! Miliana, my dear. It is so very good to have you back."

A strong, proud voice, now touched with unheard-of tenderness and gratitude, came from an opened cell. Eyes frozen and jaw wrenching sideways in disbelief, Miliana watched as her stepmother was led out from captivity.

Lady Ulia-always imposingly tall, was a mere shadow of her former self. The vast bulk of fat had gone; in its place, there stood a statuesque creature made of slender muscle topped off with long black hair.

The enforced diet and savage exercise had left Ulia with the figure of an elven fertility goddess. A little weak and shaken, the gor-geous creature tottered forward and laid her hand upon Miliana's arm.

"You did us proud, my dear. A fiance and a battle won. I always knew you would turn out well in the end." Ulia still wore her black mourning dress-now roughly stitched tight to fit a mightily streamlined frame. "It's always best to let a true hawk fly free.

"I believe your father would have said 'well done.' "

Miliana looked quietly down and took Ulia's hand.

The prince of Lomatra fixed Ulia with an astonished stare. Ulia allowed the man to proffer an arm, then led him away into the shadows of the broken palace halls.

"I hear you are not married, sir?" Ulia's posterior wag-gled in ways that left Lorenzo staring after her in disbe-lief and awe. "Perhaps you might see fit to keep me com-pany for a while? I feel a little fragile, and things seem so unsettled in the world."

A small green furry creature bounded like a puppy in Lady Ulia's wake. Shaking herself, Miliana turned around. Tekoriikii had contrived to disappear, and all the guards had gone. She led Lorenzo hand-in-hand on an inspection of empty rooms and hollow halls, finally stop-ping before a tower littered with copper pennies, open cupboards, and broken chests. Miliana gazed about her-self in disappointment and let her face twist into a scowl.

"I thought Svarezi had a treasury…"

"Not anymore, apparently." Lorenzo gave a shrug. "The harvest will bring in enough money to rebuild some homes."

Miliana led the way down through the city streets, out through the silent gates, and toward the rocky shore that stretched out before them until it faded far from view. The girl gazed out across the freshwater sea and polished her spectacles on the hem of her dress, while long streams of fragrant hair twined past Lorenzo's smiling face.

"Why are you smiling?"

The girl adjusted her spectacles, meeting Lorenzo eye to eye. In reply, the inventor shrugged and reached out to take her small, soft hand.

"No reason." Lorenzo freed a strand of gossamer brown from across Miliana's spectacle frames. "Just thinking of a goddess rising from the sea."

Down in the foam, Luccio sat reading something aloud to his aquatic princess. Miliana and Lorenzo kicked away their shoes and gave the lovers a polite, wide berth, con-tent instead to walk alone along the cool, dry stones, threading through the occasional stand of tall brown grass.

The mountain breeze blew fresh and clean. Miliana gazed off into the distance with a wistful eye, leaving Lorenzo in a reverie at her side.

The inventor stood in the wind and held his princess's hand.

"So what happens now?"

"Hmmmm?" Miliana kept her eyes on the horizon. "Oh-a big new council-maybe one for all the cities rolled into one."

"No… I mean to you and I?"

"Anything we want, I suppose. You've got your inven-tions-and I suppose I can have my magic now.

There's no one to stand in my way. No one to tell us who we have to be with anymore."

"And what would you like to do?"

"Like?" Miliana quietly tightened her grip on Lorenzo's hand. "I'd like to revel in the treasures I've found, and find all the treasures I never thought I'd have a chance to look for."

They both stared out at the water, gazing out together into an undiscovered world. Miliana turned her face up to stare into Lorenzo's eyes, then reached out to come into his arms.

The wind blew, the tall grass sighed, and Lorenzo drift-ed into a gentle kiss with the woman he loved.

They stood entwined together at the threshold of a world, lost inside a dawning, joyous dream.

*****
Irritably dragging her splinted wing, the hippogriff Shaatra wandered along empty palace corridors. She pricked her tall feathered ears, trying to track down an elusive, haunting melody that had lured her out of sleep. Troubled, injured, and feeling utterly alone, the black mare moved through a wilderness of torn curtains and ruined tapestries, searching for the meaning of the strange sense of loss in her soul.

Pained and tired, the hippogriff finally abandoned her search and wandered up the stairs of a tall old tower. She hoped only for a place to sleep while her breaks and bruises healed. Shaatra pushed open a hanging door, walked out into an open tower room, and felt her hooves and talons sink into a softness she had never known before.

"Tekorii-kii-kii! Tekorii-kii-kii!"

The cry almost shot Shaatra clean out of her skin. The hippogriff turned to run, then stared in amazement at a towering mound that had been scraped together out of rubble, earth, and straw.

She looked down to find that she stood on a carpet made of velvet and looted tapestries. On his fine new mound up above, Tekoriikii waited with his chest puffed out in pride, coughing softly to draw attention to his beautiful, fiery plumes.

The bird felt himself at the very pinnacle of cleverness. He had found the correct mate for Miliana-and now he had finally found a perfect mate all his own, a creature elegant and black. A creature that matched him in the aerial battle of snatching tails. A lithe, brilliant, ferocious female the likes of which no firebird had ever seen. A sav-age hawk who surely would be wooed by the romantic peacock's wiles.

On his magnificent dancing mound, the firebird began to croon. Before the eyes of the astonished hippogriff, he spread out a massive fan of tail, utterly dazzling her. He danced a little to the left, and a little to the right-bobbed his head down low and up high, while wig-waggling his polished yellow claws. Clever golden eyes rolled fondly at the lonely mare, while the firebird opened his beak and trilled in glee.

One step at a time, Shaatra approached the mound and wonderingly began the silken climb. The firebird strutted excitedly up and down, always slightly out of reach, skipping and bounding up and down in dizzy ecstasy. He rubbed his beak against her hide, and she dimly felt herself reply, her feathers rising in wonder as she merged her voice with his song.

The firebird proudly swept aside his tail, and the hip-pogriff could only stare in awe at her prize.

A nest had been hollowed at the very top of the mount-a nest built from feathers of a brilliant orange hue. And lining the comfortable little home, there sparkled an empire's ransom in jewels.

Svarezi's treasury had been looted of its choicest sparkly things; there were polished copper coins and pieces of Lorenzo's mirror tiles, all intricately woven round with emeralds and pearls. Gold cups and bur-nished combs dazzled the hippogriff's helpless eyes as she felt herself drawn deeper into the hoard.

In pride of place, sparkling beneath the sun, there lay Tekoriikii's greatest prize, the best sparkly object in all the whole wide world. The Sun Gem twinkled its hypnot-ic message deep into Shaatra's eyes, singing the praises of the clever firebird.

With a cry of delight, the hippogriff turned three times around about the nest and settled into place among the jewels. With long lashes shading lovely eyes, she coyly hid her face behind a wing and made space for Tekoriikii at her side.

"Tekorii-kii-kii! Tekorii-kii-kii!"

A soaring song rolled out across the Mannicci palace, spilling up into the clear Sumbrian sky. All through the city, tired citizens stopped to listen as the sound of joy spun like magic in the winds.

For once, the roof tiles stayed in place, and Miliana's spectacles survived. She joined Lorenzo in gazing up at the palace with a smile, then stole an arm around his waist and led him on across the sand.

Behind them, the Blade Kingdoms at long last stood at peace, while the morning mellowed into a warm and gen-tle summer afternoon.

About the Author Currently manifesting as a balding git, Paul Kidd lives in Melbourne, Australia with his wife, Christine-when he isn't digging through castle ruins or running rabidly about at U.S. comic conventions.

Paul's hobbies include nurturing wasp nests and collecting knives and swords. When he grows up, he wants to be a spaceman.

Paul's comic books include the ever popular "Tank Vixens" series. He is the author of the role-playing games Albedo and Lace and Steel. His first novel for TSR was Mus of Kerbridge.

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