The Blasted Lands (35 page)

***

Pella moved along roads she had not crossed since she was a child, and shook her head at how much had changed, but also how little. Far, far to the east of Tyrne the Empire was not the same. Here the royal family held sway in name, but not as an actual presence. Pathra Krous had never once visited the eastern half of his Empire. He had left that task to his emissaries, and while they surely had their purposes, she was not here to deal with them at the moment.

The Imperial Army was a presence, to be sure, but nowhere near as noticeable as it was in the west. The closest thing to a truly vital Imperial city was Elda, and she walked through the streets of the city with impunity, knowing she would not be noticed unless she decided she wanted to be.

Elda was vast, and the people were clear and did not starve. That made it an exception to many other areas in the east. Elda thrived on the backs of neighbors, as had almost always been the case. The military might on the city was enough to cause any force considering an invasion to hesitate. The soldiers from Elda were among the finest fighters that the Empire had, but the cost of keeping them was visited on the farming communities and smaller cities.

It seemed a full legion of smiths worked the forges in Elda, hammering out shields and armor, carefully honing the edges of swords, as surely as the young men brought to the city were shaped into soldiers.

She watched the practice sessions of the trainees, observed the use of crossbows and swords, and the marching formations of the troops. Merros Dulver would have approved of the practice. He would likely have cut the throats of several instructors. They were brutal in the extreme, which he’d have accepted in preparation for war, but only a few days in the area showed that they could be bought and paid for. Several men wore rank who had not earned it through time served but rather with gold coin. Fellein had thrived because that sort of practice was not permitted – excepting certain royals, of course. One could not demand that a prince be trained with the rest of the troops when the family could afford private tutelage.

Of course Pella was a casual observer in these things. She had never used a sword in her life and saw no reason to start. She knew which end was employed in the art of cutting, but that hardly made her an expert. Like her Sisters she was trained to know the nature of people. She observed and she reported. Her report to Desh Krohan would be a mix of good news and bad.

Morwhen was a different situation. The kingdom of Morwhen was run by members of the Krous family. That was surely the truth. That those members had almost nothing but blood in common with the rulers of the Empire was also truth. Theorio Krous had nothing but a name in common with the likes of Danieca and Towdra. He and his kin held to the beliefs of Morwhen, and she doubted that any loyalty the man had would go so far as to send his soldiers into the rest of Fellein. They were fearsome. They had earned a reputation as violent and cruel savages. Somewhere in the past they’d sued for peace with the Empire and won it by marrying into the bloodline.

Theorio did not recognize Pella. She had no desire to be recognized. He had aged very poorly and she doubted that he would last another year on the throne under ideal circumstances. He had two sons and three daughters. Pella had no notion as to who would rule after the old man died. If she had to guess, no one within the family knew either and that made the situation volatile.

To the south of Morwhen things got more interesting. The city states in the area were familiar enough and had changed almost not at all, but there was talk of a resurgence in the old faiths.

Pella listened intently to those claims, not because she thought the situation was of great importance, but because she knew that Desh would want to know. The most interesting aspect she noticed was how many of the older temples – many of which had nearly been abandoned – were now active again. People gathered in the halls dedicated to the gods and prayed. She had seen very little of that to the west.

Several weeks after starting her observations Pella found a properly secluded area and fell into a potent sleep.

As she had done many times before, she dreamed of herself as a storm crow and made that dream come true.

In that way she made her way back to Desh Krohan and her Sisters.

They were not surprised to see her.

***

“Pella!” Desh Krohan held his arms out at his sides and Pella moved to him, hugging his ribs warmly. Several of the soldiers watching the embrace likely envied the man just then.

“I’ve missed you, Desh.”

“And I you. I like having my Sisters together again.” He smiled and she returned the smile, her eyes locked on his.

Without any more theatrics, he headed for his wagon and Pella followed. Not far away Merros Dulver was speaking with the men he’d brought along, enough trained soldiers to terrify most towns along the way. He saw Pella and nodded his acknowledgement, but he did not stop dealing with his charges. There were issues he wished to see handled, chief among them the protection of a headstrong woman who refused to understand her importance in the grander scheme of things.

Nachia Krous stubbornly refused to stay in Tyrne. Desh was actually quite pleased with that part, though he’d have preferred she be in Canhoon and safely hidden away in the palace. Naturally she disagreed. Had he told her the skies were clear when there were no clouds to be seen, she would have found a way to argue the point with him.

It was what she did.

Pella poked his ribs. “You are being harsh.”

“It’s my duty to be harsh. And I’m not wrong.” He paused for a moment. “Also, if I were Merros, I’d be ready to chastise you for reading my thoughts.”

“If you were Merros your thoughts would be decidedly more lusty.”

He smiled at that. “Fair enough.”

They entered the wagon together. Tataya and Goriah were already there and after a quick embrace they got to business.

Anyone entering the wagon would have heard only their pleasant conversation, which was exactly as they preferred it. The reality was hidden from prying ears.

There was a reason that the Sisters could read thoughts. Desh Krohan liked to share secrets only when he wanted them shared.

Pella asked,
How goes the clearing of Tyrne?

Desh responded
, Not as quickly as we would like. There are troubles with the people not wanting to leave.

Pella frowned and went to the small fire where water was already boiling. Goriah had beat her to it, and tea leaves were already steeping within the waters
. The Sooth say disaster is inevitable?

Desh sighed and leaned back into one of the cushions spread around the interior.
The Sooth nearly screamed it. There is danger, but they cannot or will not say what that danger is.

Pella scowled at that. The Sooth were not her favorite entities. She preferred to observe for herself
. I do not trust the Sooth.

That makes you wise, Pella. They are not trustworthy, but they do not lie in this. I am convinced.

She was not foolish enough to doubt him. If there was anyone more adept at dealing with the Sooth she had never encountered the individual.
When?

No one can say, not even the Sooth. Soon, but how soon I do not know.

How long until the Sa’ba Taalor arrive?

They should be here within a day.

Pella poured herself tea and then explained what she had encountered on her journey to the east. There were stories to share, and decisions to be made.

***

Merros looked out at the Blasted Lands again, watching the agitated clouds seething and drifting in the distance. They reminded him of the ocean on a turbulent day, but the smell was wrong and there were no sounds of crashing waves. The air here was acrid, and if one caught enough of a breeze from the area where no sane person went without good reason, a taste like ash and dust crept into the mouth and lingered.

Nachia Krous came up next to him, and he looked her way and bowed immediately.

“I told you that you don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but the troops are present and I’ll not have them getting the idea that they are free to ignore protocol.” He looked at her from the corner of his eye, still mostly facing the ruined land that had changed their lives recently. “I’m wondering if we would have been better staying away from here.”

A smile played at her lips, but it was the dry humor of a cynic that made that expression show itself. “Desh would likely point out that you are now in charge of the Imperial Army and that I am now the Empress and say that there are worse fates.”

His smile mirrored hers. “Mmm. There is that. But we’ve both lost people and I wonder how much more we’re going to have to go through before this is resolved.”

“Pathra used to sit in his throne room and sip at his wine and stare out his window for hours, Merros. He wanted to see the world so very badly that he could was a prisoner in his castle. Do you know why he preferred the Summer Palace?”

“No. I hadn’t given it much thought.”

“Because the view is better. Look west and you see the Wellish Steppes. Look north and if the day is clear enough you could almost see Trecharch through the hills. South and there are towns and the river that runs all the way to the ocean. East and there are farmlands and beyond those more hills.

“Look out the windows in palace in Canhoon and all you see is Canhoon. He did not like the city. He wanted to see the world.”

The Empress put a familiar hand on his shoulder. He was tempted to brush it away. Not because he did not enjoy the familiarity, but because he didn’t want anyone starting foolish rumors. Ultimately, however, he did nothing. She was the Empress and if Pathra Krous had made the exact same gesture he’d have felt no reason to act as if anything were amiss. If rumors started they would die just as quickly. That was mostly the way with fancies and little lies.

“Why didn’t he move about a bit more then?”

Nachia took her hand from his shoulder and shook her head. Her hair was carefully brushed and styled and he knew she probably hated the effort, but like him knew appearances had to be kept. “He felt he couldn’t. Too much to do and not enough time in the day. I think Desh probably encouraged that. Better to keep the Emperor safe and all.”

“Yes. Well.” He didn’t have to say that Desh’s efforts had failed. They both knew it.

Nachia said it though. “My cousin was murdered in his home. He stayed there most of his adult life, and he never indulged his desires to go anywhere. And in the end he died just the same.”

Merros nodded but said nothing. She had more to say and he could tell it.

“He would have given away the throne just to make this trip. I know that. I will not be in the same situation. I will go where I feel I must.” She smiled at him. “Oh, I know you hate that, but you’re good not to say it.”

“You are the Empress. It’s your decision to make.” What else could he say?

“Here’s the thing of it. I think that Pathra staying locked away made him want more of the journeys into the Blasted Lands. Whenever the expeditions actually made it back, he got a trinket of some kind. Maybe a piece of ancient pottery, possibly a melted piece of gold. Whatever the item, it let him look away from the windows and imagine a bit more of what the world was like outside his palace walls. He used to practically interrogate me whenever I came to visit. He wanted to know about the places I traveled to, and believe me, Merros, I traveled a great deal. I have spent a good portion of my life already on the road to one place or another and usually with a retinue to keep me safe.”

Nachia turned and looked at the caravan, at the tents aligned along the road and the soldiers who were stationed around the area, wisely at attention and careful to stay alert.

“None of this is especially unusual to me. Better organized than I’ve seen often, but not unusual. I saw more of this Empire as a little girl than my cousin saw in his entire life. And I think if he had seen more of it we would have never continued the quests into the Blasted Lands.”

“Weren’t those Desh’s doing?”

Nachia nodded and looked out at the cloud cover in the distance. The sky above the Blasted Lands was gray, and more clouds were moving in, mirroring the ones below in the valley. There would very likely be rain coming. Whatever fell into the Blasted Lands, Merros knew, would fall as freezing sleet and howling winds. The clouds hid so much of the raging fury just below them.

Nachia said, “Absolutely. He paid for the expeditions himself. But he would not have done so without the permission of the Emperor and in the past there were less of them. Pathra encouraged the explorations. Pathra wanted to see more.”

Merros sighed and looked again at the wasteland just a stone’s throw from them, contained by a sheer cliff side and little else. He could not for the life of him remember if he could see the Seven Forges in the distance the first time he’d been in the area. Mostly he’d been drawn to the turbulent motion of the storm clouds.

“So whatever the case, I think we would have met with the Sa’ba Taalor sooner or later. Hopefully we can make peace with them before it is too late.”

Merros nodded his head. “Hopefully, indeed, Majesty.” He feared it was already too late. But hope was a lovely thing to cling to when the winds were raging.

***

Andover Lashk met his second god. This time he was not alone. Tarag Paedori stood at his side, unflinching in the face of the raging heat and the boiling magma. Hot as it was, Andover could still breathe and his flesh did not burn. That seemed a miracle by itself.

The walls in the room ran with liquid fire. It drooled down along the sides and mingled with the rising waves of heat and smoke. The ground where he stood, the same as the gray stone that the castle was cut from, was not burning hot and the molten stuff never touched it. Instead it fell into deep cuts along the floor and slipped harmlessly into whatever lay beneath.