The House of Yeel (21 page)

Jymoor couldn’t keep her
eyes off the ring. Yeel surveyed the contents again.

“If you want one, I know the
double ruby pattern there. That one. It’s called a second chance
ring. Your first wound incurred on any given day is rapidly healed.
But your second wound is much worse. The trick is, to take the ring
off after the first wound. Ideally, you then give the ring to your
enemy. Also, it’s been known as a torturer’s ring.”

“Ugh. Interesting, but
unpleasant,” Jymoor said. “Besides, I would be wearing it under my
gauntlets. So I wouldn’t be able to take it off easily in combat,
which is where I’d likely be getting wounded.”

“Good point.”

“How about this one?”

“Oh. I don’t remember
exactly, though the top twist of silver means it is related to
sexual rites of another species than your own—”

“Yuck. This one?”

“I don’t know.”

“This one?”

“I don’t know most of
them.”

“Do you know this one?” Jymoor held up a
gem-encrusted double ring, apparently meant for two fingers side by
side.

“Yes. It’s a
detector.”

“What does it detect?”

“I have no idea.”

Jymoor sighed. “Maybe there
isn’t anything here powerful enough anyway.”

“The more powerful the item, the more likely
I am to remember it. And we do have some amazing items around here.
But defeating the horde is no small matter.”

“We aren’t going to defeat
them. I no longer think we can do it.”

“Don’t give up hope. We
still may be able to get Vot’s help.”

“It doesn’t look like
it.”

“I have some ideas. Let’s
get back.”

Yeel placed the spyglass into his travel
pack. Jymoor walked up to Yeel and kissed him.

Yeel stopped. He noticed
something from one of his detached eyes. How far away, or which
eye, Yeel wasn’t sure. It didn’t look like anyplace he’d recently
dropped one.

He saw something stir. A shape.

“Is something wrong?” Jymoor asked.

Then another shape resolved. They were out of
focus. Two dark shadows remained still to either side. The shapes
straight ahead were lighter, and moving.

“Well, look at that!” Yeel
said as he watched. The shapes kept moving. One of the shapes was…a
human. Or looked like a human. It opened a jar.

“What?” Jymoor asked in irritation. She
stepped away.

“Interesting! One of my eyes
seems to have been…preserved!”

Yeel tried to focus, but it
remained difficult…as if the eye was inside another jar.

“Yeel, I don’t follow you.
What does kissing have to do with…whatever you’re talking
about?”

“I must have done that. How
clever of myself. I am really quite the planner, aren’t
I?”

“I don’t understand,” Jymoor
growled.

The shape moved its jar to one side and
walked out of view. Then the light dimmed again and Yeel stopped
seeing anything from the remote eye.

“Nothing, it’s a magical
matter. Too bad I don’t remember exactly where it is,” Yeel
murmured. He headed for the door. Jymoor stomped after
him.

They walked out of the maze
of rooms by trial and error, found the fountain room, and then
emerged back in Maristaple. Once home, Jymoor took her leave
abruptly.

The next day as the horde outside kept
growing from constant new arrivals, Jymoor and Yeel asked for
another audience with King Aruscetar.

This time, the monarch spoke to them as soon
as they arrived.

“All chances of our army
being able to help Ascara-home are now gone. The barbarians
surround us. Great Yeel, I hope you choose to defend us as you have
promised.”

“I’m not yet ready to
discard our plan,” Yeel said.

“I won’t leave, not
now.”

“I have a proposal. If I make the army
outside decamp and disperse, will you consider helping Vot?”

“You will do that? You can do that?” King
Aruscetar grasped at the straw Yeel offered him.

“I believe I can make them go away, for a
time. Not permanently. If I do send them away, I hope you can join
Vot in defense of her fortress. With the understanding, of course,
that if we are victorious, you will need her assistance in turn
when the barbarians come back.”

Aruscetar nodded. His face held an expression
Yeel recognized as grim resignation in humans.

“My field commanders have assured me we have
little chance of victory here. If you can send them away, then I
agree to help Vot.”

“Then the plan stays the
same,” Yeel said. “It just has a new first step. A new, very
challenging first step. I’ll begin right away.”

Chapter 16: Parlay

Yeel looked out from the gate tower across
the vast army besieging Maristaple. Tents dotted the landscape in
all directions. The warriors were wearing only animal hides and
bones.

“A savage lot, even by your standards,” Yeel
said.

“They’re animals,” Aruscetar
growled. “If this city falls, my nation is ruined. My people are
ruined. They will rape, burn…everything here will be gone. Mankind
will fall into an age of ruin.”

“One of them is signaling us to talk,” the
captain of the guard called out.

“Please allow me to negotiate,” Yeel said. “I
need to see these warriors up close. I want to analyze their
leader. We need to gain some insight into what we face.”

“No, Yeel!” Jymoor said.
“You’re too valuable. If they kill you—”

“I have a few tricks up my
sleeve. It wouldn’t be so easy.”

“I believe you,” Aruscetar
said. “They don’t know who they’re dealing with. The mighty Yeel!
You should kill their leader and wash flame across their
army.”

“Oh, well, I think
negotiation is in order first. Then…yes, then the
flames.”

Aruscetar shrugged.

“Go ahead. Once you see what
those Baltamic animals are really like, you’ll find us gentle as
lambs.”

Yeel was lowered down on a tiny rope
elevator, as Aruscetar refused to open the gates even for a moment.
He scanned the field before the gates. Every bit of vegetation had
been stripped away to prepare for the siege. He saw the barbarian
signaling halfway across the field. It was a warrior atop another
animal, holding a white skull up with a stick. Yeel wondered if the
man was some kind of shaman. He moved out onto the vast field
toward the warrior.

Yeel felt the strain of many
minds focused on him. He strained to maintain the illusion of his
appearance as a man in all their minds. It wouldn’t do for any of
them to see him as anything else…yet.

Yeel approached to within a
comfortable speaking distance, just for appearances. He’d actually
be able to communicate with the man from much farther away, but he
didn’t want to arouse any suspicion.

“I’m here to take your
surrender,” the man growled. “You see our numbers. You know you
have no chance.”

“We might consider it. I
wish to speak with your leader…what might his name be?”

The warrior laughed aloud. He opened his
mouth as if to reply, then lost himself to another fit of laughter.
Finally he got himself under control.

“You speak our language
perfectly, yet pretend you do not know of our war-king Methric. You
attempt to trivialize him as if he were nothing. Should you speak
with him, don’t try that trick. He will slay you for such a
slight.”

“I apologize. You are right,
of course. I was merely attempting to get some leverage. But you
have me. I should not have underestimated your obviously
considerable intelligence. Please allow me to speak with
Methric.”

The man shrugged. “You refuse to surrender?
He may simply have you killed to send a message. Do you really want
to see him still?”

“Yes, being a brave and
formidable man myself, a human like all the others in the city, but
still, of power, and man of heroic deeds, I am of course very
brave—did I mention that? Yes, I still would like to speak with
him.”

The warrior shrugged.

“Follow me, then,” he said. He turned his
horse around and trotted back toward the nearest cluster of
tents.

Yeel slid along after. The barbarian army
grew closer. He saw the angry stares of hundreds of them as he
approached. The men looked determined, or desperate. In any case,
they were hostile as they stared upon him.

The warrior who had
signaled for parlay jumped off his mount and strode over to a large
tent. It had countless symbols stained onto its outer surface. Yeel
didn’t recognize any of them
.

I wonder if they are decorative, functional,
or both.

Just before he stepped into the tent, Yeel
decided to project a different image of himself. He chose the idea
of a strong, seasoned warrior. A tall, armored man of lean strength
and rugged appearance.

The air in the tent held a
tang of burnt herbs. The skulls of dead beasts hung on the poles
holding up the tent. Fine rugs, tapestries, and cushions littered
the tent. Yeel supposed this was a trove of items won in
conquest.

He stepped toward a large chair holding a man
who must be the barbarian king Methric. Many gold objects were on
display by the makeshift throne. Yeel wondered if they turned the
gold into a lighter metal when it was time to break camp and move
elsewhere.

Their leader looked savage.
His broad chest spoke of great physical strength. His arms bulged
with power. His light brown hair fell across his shoulders in
ragged locks. The prodigious claws of some predatory beast hung
around his neck. Bands of bronze encased his forearms.

Yeel approached the huge warrior king
carefully. He bowed.

“I am Yeel. King Aruscetar
has sent me to speak to you, which is what we’re doing right now.
So you can see I’m a loyal servant of the king. Nothing more.
Loyal, servile—that’s me.”

“Tell me, then, is King
Aruscetar reasonable? I think we could come to some kind of
agreement.”

The huge barbarian’s voice
was soft. Yeel examined the man again. Were his eyes
friendly?

“Of course we could! There’s
no need to shed blood! We can reason this out,” Yeel said.
“Cooperation might provide a superior end result for both our
people.”

“It’s possible. Here is my
offer. Give up the city to my people, and I will allow half the
Rikenese to migrate south.”

“Um, er, I don’t think we
are asking to migrate south, so giving us that concession is not
worth any offer in return,” Yeel said carefully. “We would like to
keep our libraries intact, though.”

“Your libraries? They’re
filled with heretic books of false gods. I myself read over a dozen
of the books at Talgam before its destruction. I was not
impressed.”

“You read a dozen Rikenese
books at Talgam?”

“You sound surprised. Yes, I
am fluent in Rikenese. I studied their language, culture, and
history for years before launching this massive migration. It
seemed only wise, given the magnitude of the task before me. You
see, I had to save my people.”

“But you have chosen to try and save your
people by destroying another civilization,” Yeel said.

“My people must be dominant
in order to secure a better result for themselves. We’re now
bargaining from a position of strength. If you don’t give me
sufficient concessions, then I will simply destroy the city. We’re
superior to the Rikenese. I’ll prove it if necessary.”

“You would destroy this
marvel of a city just to prove your dominance? Set aside your ego,
think of the good of your entire race before yourself. That’s what
a truly greater man would do.”

“Well spoken! But it’s not a
conquest born of an inflated ego,” said Methric. “There are more
basic necessities at stake.”

“Oh? If this is not a conquest, then what is
this army?”

“It’s a migration. I believe
I already mentioned that. Our two peoples will merge.”

“It could be a peaceful merging. March your
army away from Maristaple. Lay down your arms and settle the
lands.”

“Ah, I wish it could be
peaceful. But resources are not plentiful enough for everyone. So
we must fight over them. Already my army grows hungry.”

“Think of the needless destruction—”

“I’m sure Riken culture has
some wonderful aspects to it. And many of those will be preserved
although many will die. Forced cultural fusion is often bloody. But
our children’s children will know and follow many of the traditions
of both peoples. Of course, the winner in the military conflict
will have the edge in the merging. Likely that culture will be
dominant.”

“Are you going to burn the library?” Yeel
asked.

“Most likely, yes. Though if you give me the
city, we could reach an agreement on that point.”

“But if we let you into the walls, then we no
longer have any leverage. You could then burn the library and do
whatever you want.”

“Well, just a moment ago, you were asking me
to give up my leverage by dispersing my army.”

“What are the resources in contention? We
could work together to increase the food and water production of
both sides.”

“There isn’t time. And to
try would simply result in fighting anyway. I have to achieve
victory quickly. Then, and only then, can I spread my people out
across the lands Riken used to own. Otherwise, starvation will
occur.”