"No," Mauritane said simply.

Kallmer nodded. "No, somehow I didn't really think so." He thought a bit longer. "Fine," he finally said, "we'll do it your way. At least then I'll have someone else to blame while I'm waiting for the ax to fall."

Mauritane nodded. "Good. Get me the plans."

Kallmer dispatched a lieutenant to the records wagon. "When this is over, Mauritane, I expect you to tell me what this mission of yours was all about. It's the least you can do."

"If we are both still alive, I will tell you."

"That," sighed Kallmer, "is fair."

deals.

The Mechesyl Road was wide and flat, its grassy median and broad hexagonal stones extending all the way from the Travel Guild Center outside the City Emerald to Sylvan's southeast gate. Purane-Es's troops rode in columns five wide, filling the entire road. The troops forced the merchants and travelers to the shoulders, where they waited impatiently for the hundred or so men on horseback to pass.

Purane-Es rode ahead of the formation, only the standard-bearer preceding him. He let his gaze fall on the snow-clad trees in the median, watching them drift past his field of vision in the predawn light. Anything to mitigate the sight of the horse's hindquarters he'd been staring at for the past seven days.

The Lady Anne had not been pleased. She'd called him a spineless fool and worse. And yet, despite her anger, he still felt her love reaching him from somewhere behind her eyes. He persisted, she relented. He explained to her as best he could his relationship with Father, how brutal he'd been to them as children, how brutal Purane-La had been to him in return. He made noises about the Unseelie threat. He avoided mentioning Mauritane and his damned orders for Stilbel. She wept and begged him not to leave. But there was nothing he could do. Lord Purane had a crossbow to his head, and the bolt was one he could never share with her.

She said she no longer loved Mauritane, that she loved only him. What would she do if she found out what had really happened? Purane-Es's stomach churned. How long would he be forced to pay for that one error in judgment? He'd never meant for things to go so far. He'd certainly never meant for his brother to be killed.

Or had he?

Sometimes, Purane-Es admitted to himself, he had wished La dead. Purane-La, the firstborn son, the one who could do no wrong in his father's eyes. La was Father's great achievement, and Es was merely his backup. Purane-Es had spent his entire life as an understudy, waiting in the wings for his father to notice him in any other way than to point out his failings. "You are wasting your life, Purane-Es," he'd often said. "You're not half the man your brother is," was another favorite. Sometimes, when the old man had had a few too many drinks, he would quietly admit that he wished Es had never been born. "You're useless," he'd observe, as though talking about a hen that didn't lay. Fortunately, by the time Purane-Es had left for University, he'd learned to shut such things out. He no longer heard them.

Regardless, being runner-up to Purane-La was paradise compared to being his replacement. Since La's death, Purane-Es had come to hate his father in an entirely new way, in the manner that men despise other men, and not just the simple loathing of a son for an aloof parent.

What kind of man blackmailed his own son?

Could Purane-Es really be blamed for any of this? All he'd ever wanted was to lounge beneath the shady trees at court, singing songs and stealing kisses in the moonlight. He'd never wanted this. Not any of it.

A scout from the messaging post in Paura interrupted his reverie. The boy ran out of the guardhouse, calling his name.

"Purane-Es! Are you Purane-Es?" called the boy.

Purane-Es nodded, taking the boy's hastily scrawled message, which had arrived via message sprite. He read Kallmer's report of the earthquake, and the subsequent news from Selafae and the riots in the City Center.

"What am I riding into?" he mused out loud. He tore up the message and rode on, his personal troubles momentarily forgotten.

The Rye Grove was teeming with activity. Seelie Army soldiers drilled alongside members of the Royal Guard. Battle mages tested their spellweapons, creating clouds of green and blue smoke over the trees. From the farrier's tent, the sound of hammers and the smell of the silver-hardening vats drifted out over the field. The morning mist was thick but had already begun to burn away beneath an unusually warm sun.

Purane-Es sat high in the saddle, curious about the figures he saw coming and going in gray and brown cloaks. They looked like peasants; most had no braids, and none of them was clean shaven. Even the Royal Guardsmen he saw looked a bit ragged, their uniforms not to regulation, their braids casually slung over their shoulders. It was depressing to see.

Kallmer came to greet them; he'd been leading a drill and was drenched in sweat, despite the cold. "Commander Purane-Es," he said, his voice guarded. "Your presence coincides with events both wondrous and fearsome."

"We need to talk," said Purane-Es, refusing the offer of cordiality.

"Of course, Commander," said Kallmer, emphasizing the rank to remind Purane-Es that his was equivalent. "I've set up a temporary headquarters in a hotel just up the street."

Purane-Es handed his reins to a groom, and they walked the short distance to the hotel. The streets were quiet, save for the activities of the military in the grove.

"Your message indicated riots," said Purane-Es. "If there is rioting here, it's being performed by an exceedingly polite mob."

"We've ... gotten that situation under control since that message was sent. I apologize; there hasn't been time for a follow-up."

Purane-Es quickened his pace. "So we only need to concern ourselves with the earthquakes, advancing armies, and columns of flame. Is that correct?"

"More or less," said Kallmer.

"You've got new orders," said Purane-Es. "I want you to gather your men and prepare to pull out of Sylvan. If what you're saying is true-and I do plan to verify every word of it-then we should fall back until reinforcements arrive. We did not think they would cross the border so soon, or so spectacularly."

"Who gives this order?"

"The order will come from my father once I speak with him."

"But he has not yet spoken."

"That does not matter. We are of one mind on this matter."

"Show me an order from Purane and I'll prepare my men. Until then, I retain command, and I give the orders."

They reached the hotel, and Kallmer pushed into the lobby, Purane-Es following him. "I can have you stripped to graveyard walker, Kallmer. You are walking a gossamer thread."

"Save it, Purane-Es," said Kallmer. "Why don't you go back to the City Emerald and write a love song? I have work to do."

Purane-Es stopped in the lobby, unable to believe what he'd just heard.

"Pardon me?" he said, his hands in fists.

"You heard me," said Kallmer. "Run along to your daddy."

"I'll have your head for this! Do you have any idea who you're speaking to?" said Purane-Es.

"Yes, I do. I know quite a bit about you, in fact. And if you try to get in my way, I'm fully prepared to spread that knowledge around."

"What do you think ..." began Purane-Es, but he was cut off by a tall, aging lord who waved his hands for Kallmer's attention.

"Commander Kallmer!" shouted the man. "I have been waiting for hours!"

Kallmer bowed stiffly to the man. "Lord Geracy, we are doing everything we can to locate your daughter. As soon as I know more ..."

"I don't have time for your equivocation, Kallmer," the man shouted. "I am leaving Sylvan in ten hours and if my daughter isn't with me, I'll speak to the Queen herself about this! I'll see that you and that cursed Mauritane are hanged from the same branch!"

"You're the third person to threaten me with death in the past twentyeight hours," said Kallmer dryly. "The threat is losing its edge."

"Mauritane?" said Purane-Es, his interest piqued.

"Yes!" shouted Geracy. "Kallmer had that fiend imprisoned at my palace. But he allowed the man to escape from under our very noses, with my only daughter as a hostage."

Purane-Es looked askance at Kallmer. "Why, Commander! Your report did not mention anything of the sort. Have you grown forgetful?"

"It's nothing to do with my orders," said Kallmer, fuming.

"Quite the contrary, I think it has everything to do with your orders." Purane-Es smiled with mock politeness.

"Forgive my ignorance, but whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" Geracy said, somewhat calmed by Purane-Es's presence.

"I am Purane-Es, of the City Emerald." Purane-Es gave a brief bow.

"You're Purane's boy!" the man said. "I am Geracy. Your father and I hunted together once or twice."

"Yes, he's spoken of you," said Purane-Es, although he'd never heard the man's name in his life. "If you'll pardon me," he said to Geracy, "I believe I can straighten this matter out with my fellow officer and have your daughter back in no time."

"Finally!" said Geracy. "Perhaps you can convince him not to pursue this dangerous alliance as well!"

"Alliance? Oh, we must speak in private," said Purane-Es.

Kallmer sat at his makeshift desk, peering across its wide expanse at Purane-Es, who paced furiously before him. A pair of sergeants tended to paperwork at another table, ignored. Otherwise, the room was empty. Kallmer poured drinks and laid out the previous day's events in brief, leaving out anything to do with the escape and kidnapping Geracy had complained about.

"Amazing," said Purane-Es, when the story was finished. "But where is Mauritane now, if not here? If you have created an alliance, why do your troops not train together?"

Kallmer nodded. "Well, Mauritane is at the Temple Aba-e. He's working on some plan of his own devising right now. As to the troops, we thought it would be a bit much to place them side by side. We're going to deploy them separately, under joint orders from me, through Mauritane. He's the only person who both sides will follow. So the rebel troops are assembling in a grove near the City Center, and ..."

"Mauritane will lead the troops!" Purane-Es shouted. "Mauritane is a convicted traitor, a murderer, and a madman. Have you lost your mind?"

Kallmer took a moment to compose his thoughts. "Do you think me stupid, Purane-Es? All I've done is allow Mauritane to do my job for me. If he fails, there will still be time to evacuate. But if he is successful, then credit goes to us." He leaned back in his chair, making a steeple with his fingers. "Again, there is nothing you can do about it."

Purane-Es drew his sword with a smooth motion. "Do not be so sure, Kallmer."

"Don't threaten me, you pompous ass," said Kallmer. "I know what happened at Stilbel. I know it was you who gave the order, not Mauritane."

"That is not a lie you ought to be spreading," said Purane-Es. "Such talk could get you hurt."

"And it could get you hanged," said Kallmer. "You lied under oath at the tribunal, and I can prove it. Perjury by a nobleman is a capital offense."

"You can prove nothing."

"Oh, but you're wrong," said Kallmer. "I was there."

Kallmer allowed that to sink in. "I was an aide for the commander at Beleriand, and I was transferred briefly to Mauritane's command while you and your brother were out slaughtering villagers. I know he did not write the order, because I transcribed the order that he did write. I still have a copy."

"If you are so familiar with the facts, then you know that Mauritane amended his original orders. The order to secure Stilbel was an amendment. What you claim to have proves nothing."

"I assume you never read the original order, then," laughed Kallmer. "It states, and I quote, 'whatever means you take to secure the valley east of the river, you will by no means harm any of the civilians along its length.' That would make for quite an amendment."

"You're lying," said Purane-Es.

"Don't you wish that I was?" said Kallmer. "I've been holding on to that little tidbit for years, just waiting for the moment it might come in most handy. And now that I know it was you, I also know who to blame for not speaking out all this time. I'll tell them that you threatened my life, as you did just a few moments ago outside, in front of witnesses."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me, Purane-Es. I beg you."

Purane-Es lowered his sword. "Fine!" he said. "Fine! You win. If you want to die here attempting heroics, be my guest. I'll return to the City Emerald and speak with my father. Once the Unseelie are defeated, assuming you yet live, I'm sure we can come to some kind of ... arrangement. Assuming that an arrangement is what you're seeking from all this."

"An arrangement would be delightful," said Kallmer. "I believe a new assignment will be in order for me, closer to home, and perhaps a promotion to lieutenant captain."

"We shall see," said Purane-Es, his rage barely contained.

"Yes, we shall."

"Just one more thing," said Purane-Es. He moved as though to sheath his sword, raising the hilt over his head. Rather than stow the blade, however, he leaped quickly forward and thrust across the table, driving his point home through Kallmer's eye socket. Kallmer jerked, his hands grasping at his face, then slumped backward into his chair, dead.

The two sergeants looked up from their work. Purane-Es wiped his sword on Kallmer's cloak. "I was forced to kill him in self-defense," he said. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll agree with me, now and forever."

elements and motion.

"How are all five of us going to fit in that thing?" asked Raieve, uncertain. It was not possible to her that the fragile Unseelie flyer could leave the ground at all, much less with five armed occupants. It was shallow and seemed held together with nothing but string and optimism.

Here at the top of the Temple Aba-e, the mist was like a second covering of snow over the city. A chill wind howled through the stark archways at the building's summit. The flyer rested at an angle on the rooftop, looking to Raieve like a lost sailboat. The abbot knelt by them, saying more prayers. Raieve could not understand the words that he prayed, but she was glad that someone was doing it. Some of the pink-robed monks stood by, watching the scene unfold.

"Eloquet will take the controls," said Mauritane. "Satterly will sit next to him in front, since he's the tallest. Silverdun and I will ride in back, with you sitting in one of our laps."

"That hardly seems dignified," said Raieve.

"Dignity is not the goal. We are to be drunken revelers returned late from the city of Gejel. That is why we do not know the current passphrases."

"And you really believe this ... thing ... will fly?" said Raieve.

"A friend of mine died so that you could fly in this 'thing,' woman," said Eloquet. "Marar Envacoro was one of the bravest men I've ever known."

"It was not my wish to offend," said Raieve, blushing. "I do not mean to diminish the sacrifice of your friend."

"And you're certain we'll have clearance to get into the city with it?" asked Mauritane.

"I think so," said Eloquet. "In peacetime, they do not even check the passphrases. Marar was able to come and go as he pleased, and he visited us here often, coordinating the church's Unseelie operations. The flier was spellworked to return to the temple upon his death, so it escaped detection even unmanned. Now that they are at war, however, I suspect they'll be a bit pickier about who gets in. Marar and I spoke often about this contingency and he believed it would work."