Sunset of Lantonne (107 page)

“Feels like the capital out here,” groused the similarly robed and hooded man to his right, stomping his feet to keep them warm. “I liked the desert far better. One of the locals said this place isn’t so bad in the summer months. Maybe we should return then.”

Keeping still, he answered, “You know why we are here, Dorralt. No one has ever held lands as large as ours for more than a decade in all of recorded history. I owe it to these people to ensure their safety long after I am gone. We’ve made mistakes and I have to set them right.”

“No one can ensure anything after they die. We can only work to keep you and the empire safe, Turess. Once all of us are gone, it will be someone else’s problem. The magic we’re working on will ensure a place for your lands in history.”

“That is what I’m afraid of,” he admitted to his brother. “What I saw of those experiments does not seem to be working as expected. I need to know if we are doing the right thing. There are too many risks to leave this to chance.”

“Trusting this creature seems far more risky than pulling more magic through the veil. The cloud is contained. We are no longer in danger.”

Turess turned to gaze over the mountain descent they had climbed to their current location, struggling against both the weather and dizziness that came with the altitude. Far out past the last of the mountains, the faint flickers of his army’s campfires were beginning to appear for the evening. Those yellow-red dots sprang up one after another until they lined the entire foot of the mountain range. Almost a hundred thousand men and women waited down there for his command, ready to march halfway across the known world if he asked them to.

“When I die, there will be chaos and war if we are not careful,” he told his brother, turning back to the cave. “We conquered all the lands within reach with a minimum of bloodshed. All my care will be wasted if the next generation’s rulers cannot hold it all together. Millions of innocents might die, unless I know how to ensure peace. The very tools we collect to hold this empire together might be used against its people for bloodshed I can hardly fathom.”

“To ensure peace, they will want an heir…”

Without hesitation, Turess swung his staff across to his right, intentionally missing but surprising Dorralt so he fell onto his back, raising a puff of light snow. The man rolled and sat back up, rubbing the white powder from his otherwise black clothing. “Do not bring it up again, brother!” warned Turess, laying the staff down in the snow in front of him. He made a concerted effort to ignore the muffled snickers of his other companion. “There will be no heir unless I understand my own limitations entirely wrong. Accept that and know your place.”

Dorralt shoved his hood back and glared at the cave, motioning toward it with one arm. “You want to know the answer? Have an heir. That is the answer. An heir will want to continue your legacy rather than burn it as others might. Besides that, do as I have begged for years and name me your sword in these lands, so I can do what is needed to hold things together, no matter what happens. Waiting for things to fall apart is no way to prepare for the future.”

Touching the staff as a reassurance that it was close if he needed to strike at his brother again, Turess shook his head, thankful the biting wind helped cool his temper. “We will wait for a reply from the dragon.”

Spitting in the snow, Dorralt came over and knelt beside Turess. “Brother, this is not any way to lead,” Dorralt pleaded. “You rule all of the lands the races of man have laid eyes on. No one will fault you if you cast aside your wife and pick someone suitable. Someone worthy of being the spouse of the most powerful ruler ever known. Most importantly, someone who can give you an heir. No dragon’s words will ever give you a different answer than the one you know is correct.”

The woman to Turess’s left reached over and clasped his hand with her own gloved one, lending him enough calm to keep from striking at Dorralt again. Her touch had always had that effect on him. She leaned close enough her silver bracelet tapped faintly against his matching one, the public symbol of their vows.

“This!” snapped Dorralt, hopping to his feet and gesturing at Turess and his wife’s clasped hands. “Our people shun contact where it can be seen by others as pride, yet you put yourself above their ways. This beast has changed you…”

Before Turess could catch her to prevent violence, his wife leapt to her feet and grabbed Dorralt by the front of his robe, hurling him against the stone wall of the cave. He tried to recover, but she was on him instantly, slamming him against the wall a second time hard enough he went momentarily limp and his eyes unfocused as she caught him by the throat with her other hand. “Speak of me that way where I can hear you again and I will tear you apart with my bare hands,” she warned from somewhere in her deep hood. “Your people may believe in this nonsense about avoiding contact, but mine never did. If I wish to touch my husband miles from anyone’s eyes but yours, I will do so without being called a beast.”

“You are a beast,” spat Dorralt, trying to subtly move one of his hands to cast a spell, but Turess’s wife grabbed his hand and banged it against the stones. When Dorralt finished wincing, he added, “The rest of us rely on our magic and our wits, but still you fall back on brutality. I would expect no less of you.”

Kharali threw back her hood and let the fading light fall on her feline features and stark-white fur. Other than where black spots made up her fur’s patterning, the tattoos that marked her as a wise-one of their lands, and her glistening black nose, her body blended into the snow all around them. “I am as much a beast as you have always been with your words of hatred,” Kharali snarled, baring fangs nearly as long as Turess’s little finger. He honestly wondered if this would be the time she drew blood. Deep down, he debated if it would help or hurt the animosity between the two. “The more you treat me and all of my people that serve your brother like monsters, the easier it is to oblige. A true snow leopard would never have given you so many chances. I have brothers and sisters demanding I tear you open and leave your entrails spread across the snows as warning to others.”

After several tense seconds, Dorralt clenched his hands into fists and lowered his eyes, signaling his surrender to Kharali’s will. He was not an idiot, even if he was hot-headed when it came to the wildlings.

Turess smiled, relaxing as the two glared in general, as they had many times in the past. To date, there had been no blood actually shed, but sooner or later he knew there would be. More likely, this day it would be as usual, with both coming to him later to complain about the other.

“This is why you will not be my sword, Dorralt,” Turess said as gently as he could. Kharali eased her grip on Dorralt’s throat and smoothed her robe and fur to calm herself. “My wife is more than capable of being that for the empire, when pushed to act. You will be what I have always wished you to be…my shield. When I am gone, you will swear your services to her, out of loyalty to me and the empire, regardless of how you feel about her. Trust me, she is as unhappy about this as you are.”

Dorralt scowled at Turess, but turned to look Kharali in the eyes as he answered, “I swear to shield this empire from anyone who might cause it harm or break apart what you have created. The nations you united will be ours so long as I walk Eldvar. No one, no matter how much of a savage, will destroy that.”

With a flick of her wrist, Kharali cast aside her glove and brought her clawed hand back in front of Dorralt’s face. She said nothing, but the reminder that she was deadly with or without her magic was clear. He immediately snapped his mouth shut and tried to avoid looking directly at her.

Three mortals already fighting while they wait,
came a deep voice from the cave. It did not echo as it should have.
You wonder why you cannot have peace without my help, yet a few mere moments alone leads to this. Do you really need my answer, oh great Emperor Turess?

Turess’s hands clenched and he had to force himself to calm, though Kharali did not even try. The dragon had been equally confrontational during their first visit a week earlier. “You know I hate that title, Nenophar,” he answered the dark cave, placing his hands on his thighs to keep them away from his staff. The weapon was of limited use against a dragon anyway, but he wanted the temptation far from him. “I am just a man, not one to claim titles, even if that is effectively what I am. If I could step aside and know the lands would be safe…”

I do not challenge you, human,
the dragon replied, coming far enough into the light Turess could see his pale green scales glinting faintly.
I did ask that your whole company return, did I not? There is one of those who came last time missing.

This time, Dorralt answered, though his eyes stayed on Kharali, who still kept herself close enough he was effectively pinned against the stones. “The orc betrayed us to Turess’s enemies,” the man said, trying to move around Kharali but failing when she stepped in his way. Like many wild animals, she would not relent until her point had been driven home and Dorralt had truly submitted. “He ran and has not been found yet. I will continue to hunt him, no matter how long it takes.”

The dragon adjusted his position to look down at Dorralt, then back to Turess.
Find him and deal with him. I do not want visitors and he already knows where I live,
the dragon said.
You, Turess, I told of the risks of coming back,
Nenophar said, lying down at the entrance to the cave and crossing his front legs as though having a polite conversation between friends.
Seeing the pattern of the future as a mortal requires the brink of death. There is no way of knowing how dangerous this will be for you.

“I accept any risk for my people,” Turess answered, lowering his eyes so he could not see Kharali’s concerned stare or the nervous snap of her tail, side to side. “Do what you must.”

When I bring you to the edge of death’s door,
Nenophar continued,
there is no turning back. The visions may not come immediately, but death will claim you as soon as your body is too weak to go on, whether the visions have begun or not. No one can know whether you have an hour or a week to live, but once you are healed, there will never be another vision for you. Do you understand?

Again the nervous narrowing of Kharali’s eyes, this time with a quick baring of her fangs. She wanted to run or fight, not to let him risk himself. He knew she would go along if he insisted, as he had, but she wanted to disobey at any cost. Had he given the command, she would have fought the dragon by herself to save him.

“I understand, Nenophar. I am ready.”

The dragon turned to look at Kharali and Dorralt again.
Which of them do you trust to watch you in your dying moments, enough that you believe they can save you?
the dragon asked.

Turess looked at his two greatest allies and saw they both were watching him intently. His wife’s stare was one of concern, hoping he made the right choice all around, regardless of whom he put his trust in. Dorralt’s was one of demand, silently insisting Turess trust him with such a responsibility. Both were more than capable and had served him unfailingly for years. He trusted both with his life every day, but today he had to be sure he chose wisely. In days past, he would have deflected the choice by picking On’esquin, but given the rumors of the man’s betrayal, that option was gone.

“My wife will bear this responsibility,” he finally said, looking down at the staff he had picked up and was clutching tightly without realizing he had done so. “My brother will guard us both through this and remain at my side to ensure our safety.”

Nenophar gestured vaguely with one of his enormous fingers toward Kharali, and then nodded as though something happened Turess could not see.
She has the tools needed to save you. We will begin immediately,
stated Nenophar, raising his clawed hand toward Turess.
This will hurt more than I will ever know. I hold you to our bargain though. If you cannot tell me of my own death with the onset of the visions, I will kill you myself, ending any further visions beyond that. My price is paid first, before you benefit from my gift.

“I agree.”

So much has happened since I began having this scribed, though it has only been a matter of days. With each breath bringing me closer to my end, the sights Nenophar promised me become clearer. I no longer fear death, but only fear closing my eyes forever before I can speak all I see coming to pass. Now, I worry what I hurry to say will be too vague or I will leave out what is most needed. A vision is truly something never meant to be put to words.