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Authors: Ken Scholes

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BOOK: Requiem
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He handed Orius a tin of chai and led the man to his command center. They hunkered down against the wall and sipped their drinks. Lysias’s had gone cold, but he barely remembered a time when he’d been able to get through an entire cup while it was still hot. “So what are the Androfrancines doing down here, and how are you faring?”

“We’ve established a camp on a sublayer about a day south and down,” Orius said. “We have two others tucked away as well. We are conducting intelligence operations both above- and belowground and have stayed out of sight … until recently. But the Y’Zirites have no idea of our numbers, and so far, they’ve not let themselves into our little basement Whymer Maze.”

Lysias blinked. “Exactly what are your numbers?”

Orius shook his head. “Best not to talk in specifics. But I have a sizeable force and some of the Order’s best armament.”

Lysias glanced to the man, took a sip of the chai, and swallowed. “And what are you learning?”

“Lord Rudolfo is on the Divided Isle and has been installed as chancellor. Supposedly there is a treaty between the Ninefold Forest Houses and Y’Zir, negotiated by Jakob, but I’ve not seen it yet.”

Then it is true.
He’d hoped it wasn’t for Rudolfo’s sake, but he’d heard the kin-raven alongside the Gypsy King and he’d seen the Y’Zirite blood shrine in the forest. “That is unfortunate,” he said.

“Perhaps not,” Orius said. “We have an operative approaching him now. We may be able to use his position to our advantage, though nothing we learned at the Academy is going to serve us well down here.”

No, Lysias realized. But he’d known when he brought his army underground that it was not going to be like any other war he’d fought. “How is the Delta faring?”

Orius shook his head. “City-states are falling—they’re worn down by too many years of loss and need. There are still scattered remnants of the army and those damnable Democrats in play, but they’re mostly dead, imprisoned, or in hiding. The Isle counties fell without much fight. Turam’s ruling house and government are on the move and its army has fallen back with them, but they’re being pressed from the north by the Machtvolk.” He sighed. “It’s bleak, Lysias, but not hopeless. Rudolfo will be a help, I’m certain. And we’ve some other recent developments that I think are fortuitous.” He smiled and nodded toward the camp around them. “The arrival of another seasoned strategist with his own army counts highly on that list. I came to personally invite you and your men to join me.”

Lysias’s eyes narrowed. “I serve Rudolfo now, and this is ultimately
his
army. I would need to consult with him.” Of course, even as he said it, he knew he didn’t. He’d not consulted Rudolfo before bringing his army belowground; he’d made the decision for his king because a decision was needed. And he could make this decision as well.

“If my operative is successful, we can get word to him.” Orius stood. “But meanwhile, kin-clave does not prevent us working together. If you’ll send men back with me, I’ll return them with supplies. We’ve a good supply of fresh game and water. We may even have some apples left.”

Lysias stood. “Thank you.”

As Orius moved into the cavern, his men fell in around him. “We’ll establish a courier line between camps,” he said. “The moon sparrows don’t fly as well down here. We can also help you find a more permanent camp that is closer, if you like. One with access to water.”

Lysias nodded. “We’ve been looking.”

“It truly is a Whymer Maze like no other. And it keeps going down—we’ve yet to find bottom.” Orius stood at the opening to the southern passage now and extended a hand to Lysias.

He took it and shook it once. “It is good to see you, Orius.”

The one-eyed general winked. “I’m not sure how we’ll do it, but somehow we’ll set things right, Lysias.”

Lysias stood and watched the man disappear back into the shadows. After he was gone, the general went back to the blankets and the maps they held. There was also a stack of reports now waiting for him, and he went first to the scouts who’d allowed his perimeter to be breached by magicked Gray Guard and the men they escorted. They’d have to be dressed-down in some public manner, he knew, to instill the right sense of urgency among the others. But not until he had all the facts.

An aide brought him a fresh tin of steaming chai as he read. But like the one before it, the chai was cold by the time Lysias finished.

 

Chapter

15

Rudolfo

Rudolfo moved through an afternoon heat that confounded his body after so long in winter to the north. He felt the sweat running down his sides and stifled a yawn with the back of his hand.

Beside him, Ire Li Tam kept easy pace, and from the corner of his eye, he watched her as she watched their surroundings. The city was quiet even at the peak of its day, with Y’Zirite soldiers and officers still making up the vast majority of the people out and about. But after his morning with General Yazmeera he understood things better. Most of Merrique’s citizens had been relocated to outlying counties, but a few had been kept back, impressed into service to support the steady influx of Y’Zirite soldiers, officers, and officials.

He’d learned more than that from the hours spent with their general. He’d also been briefed on the status of the fighting elsewhere and the excavation at Windwir—both of which appeared to be progressing according to the Y’Zirites’ timeline. Then, Yazmeera had shown him to his office and he’d brooded over his first assignment—a message to the leaders of the Named Lands. It had taken him two hours to write it, the fits and starts of it evidenced by the pile of crumpled paper that grew in his waste bin.

And now, after Yazmeera’s review and approval of the message during a hurried lunch—a spicy shrimp-and-noodle dish served with cold lemon beer—he now made his way to the general’s personal birder.

Ire had suggested that they ride, but after weeks in a saddle or at a desk, Rudolfo wanted to stretch his legs under a sun he barely remembered after so long in the snow. As they walked, the buildings thinned and gave way to tree-lined cobblestone avenues and large walled villas that took up entire blocks.

The Y’Zirite communications officers had taken over a villa and its adjacent barn just on the edge of the city. Bored soldiers stood watch at the gate, snapping to attention and saluting briskly at the sight of Ire Li Tam. She returned the salute, and Rudolfo inclined his head as he followed her through the open gate.

Yazmeera’s birder was an old man, his face white with the scars of his Y’Zirite faith. He took the general’s note from Ire Li Tam and read it. He said something to Ire in the Y’Zirite language, and she nodded, repeating back some of the words. She leaned toward Rudolfo. “He says that forty-five birds is a lot.”

“Yes,” Rudolfo said. “It is.” Though it was likely half the number it would’ve been before the Y’Zirites invaded.

The old man shuffled off to the barn. As he went, he motioned for them to follow.

When the birder opened the barn door, the smell of decaying meat ambushed Rudolfo’s nose, and the force of it nearly made him gag. He met Ire’s bemused smile with a glare and then blinked into the slanting rays of sunlight that illuminated the open barn.

Heavy rope had been run to and fro throughout the structure, tied off from the various support beams and posts, and these ropes were crowded with still, black forms. The rafters above were also crowded with the silent birds.

The birder emitted a series of whistles, and Rudolfo watched as kin-ravens stirred to life, dropping from the rafters and ropes to gather around him on the straw-littered floor. The old man pointed to him and spoke to Ire, and the woman turned to him.

“When they cock their heads and open their beaks, recite your message,” she said.

Rudolfo nodded, and the old man whistled again. In unison, the birds’ beaks dropped open as their heads cocked to the left. These were nothing like the birds he’d used all his life—doves, swallows, even ravens or hawks on occasion. Magicked and trained from their first flights, the messenger birds of the Named Lands took whispered instructions and bore notes carried under the various colors designated by kin-clave to all points in the Named Lands, though they lost much of their effectiveness too far to sea or too far east in the Churning Wastes.

Not the kin-raven. These birds had a stamina that paralleled their stench, and from what Rudolfo had seen, they could bear the exact words of their message—in the voice of the messenger—over vast distances.

Rudolfo cleared his voice and forced his eyes from the kin-ravens to the paper in his hands. Between the smell and the weight of the deed before him, his stomach ached. And already, he edited as he recited, dropping Yazmeera’s inserted opening
by the grace of Y’Zir and the Crimson Empress.
Instead, he picked up where his own words began. “To the kin-bound houses of the Named Lands, from Rudolfo, Lord of the Ninefold Forest Houses and Chancellor Designate of the Y’Zirite Empire: Greetings.”

He swallowed a deeper breath. “The Androfrancines taught us that change is the path life takes, and we have experienced much change these past two years. Indeed, more change lies ahead—and much work—as we learn a new way of life. As Lord of the Ninefold Forest Houses, I invoke kin-clave and call for Council to discuss the Y’Zirite terms of surrender. Upon acceptance of said terms, Council will be expected to exercise its Option of Dissolution. A new document of governance will be presented and discussed for adoption.”

He paused and took another breath, surprised that his anger obeyed him and did not leak into his voice. “Council is called in two weeks’ time, in the county seat of Merrique on the Divided Isle. All providences and protections of kin-clave apply, and you are sworn to attend.”

He paused, his eyes stumbling over the final line. But he already knew he couldn’t escape it a second time. He looked away, though, as he said it. “By the grace of Y’Zir and the Crimson Empress.”

Then, Rudolfo looked to the birder and nodded.

The old man whistled, and the kin-ravens’ beaks snapped shut even as their necks straightened. He exchanged words with Ire and took the slip of paper she handed him.

The list.
It was shorter than it should be. He watched the birder as the man bent and whispered the first destination to the first kin-raven. Then, Rudolfo turned and followed Ire Li Tam back across the cobblestones to the gate.

They walked in silence, and Rudolfo felt the heaviness of the day upon his shoulders. For two years, he and his people had been viewed with suspicion. Sethbert had accused him of the destruction of Windwir, and then the Ninefold Forest Houses had benefited tremendously by that city’s fall with both the library and all of the other Androfrancine holdings. Now, he’d actually confirmed their suspicions and presented himself to them as their new chancellor, calling for his own peoples’ surrender. In two weeks, he would demand their cooperation in dismantling a way of life and incorporating a new one.

Rudolfo sighed and pretended not to notice Ire’s glance or the look of concern on her face. Instead, he kept his eyes on the road ahead.

A woman waited for him at the gate to his own villa, and something about her struck him as familiar though he could not place it. She was tall and more elegant than the silk pants and shirt she wore, her white hair pulled back into a pony tail. Her dark eyes took him in, and he tried to read the look on her face.

She stepped closer. “Rudolfo?”

“Yes?” He stopped. Beside him, Ire picked up her pace, a hand sliding to the knife at her belt.

The force of the woman’s spittle struck him full in the face, and Rudolfo flinched backward. He hesitated for a moment, then realized that Ire’s knife was out now as she advanced on the woman.

“No,” Rudolfo said, and the Blood Scout stopped, though her hand stayed at the hilt of her knife. He wiped his face with his sleeve and furrowed his eyebrows. “You are…?”

“I am Drea Merrique.”

He blinked, placing her now. When he was young, he and Gregoric had broken into her father’s house in the company of her brother, Rafe. That was their first meeting. Eventually, because of her older brother’s penchant for trouble and piracy, she’d become the Countess Merrique, but it had been years since Rudolfo had seen her.

He nodded. “I remember. And have I wronged you in some way?”

Drea Merrique shook her head. “No, Rudolfo,” she said, her voice bitter. “You have wronged us all, and you know exactly in what way.”

Then, she turned her back to him and walked away, the straightness of her spine more clear than any Writ of Shunning.

I have,
Rudolfo thought,
and I do.

Then, he went inside and spent another evening alone, holding—but not opening—his bottle of firespice until sleep finally carried him into dreams he was glad he could not remember in the morning.

Jin Li Tam

A warm wind pulled at a silk softer than she had ever worn, and Jin Li Tam closed her eyes against it.

The singing had finally settled down, but when it did, it was in fits and starts of spontaneous songs after stretches of quiet. But now, the crowds were dispersing after a day of worship in the city.

Worship of my son.
She shuddered and glanced over her shoulder. Jakob slept in a crib beside her own bed, dressed in a light silk nightshirt. He moved as she watched; then Jin Li Tam turned back to the city.

Directly below, the Imperial Gardens filled a walled enclosure. Directly across from the garden, the plain pyramid of the Temple of the Daughters of Ahm Y’Zir stood, its statue of the Wizard King lit from within by some magic she did not comprehend. It shimmered beneficently over the city, one hand outstretched to the palace and the other outstretched to the south to encompass the city.

She heard the faintest cough to her left, and her eyes instantly tracked the noise. A woman in the black-and-red silks of the Blood Guard shifted easily on her feet on the balcony next door. The guard inclined her head, and Jin Li Tam returned the gesture. Then, she went back to watching the city, this time mindful of the roofs and shadows and the secret watchers that waited there.

BOOK: Requiem
12.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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