Chapter 70.

aWell, Alaric,a Partus said from where he sat in the Council Chambers (in Cyrusas seat, which he had selected entirely at random, and oh, how it chafed at her) ait would appear youare in a bit of a bind here.a Vara kept her eyes fixed on the dwarf as he spoke. Itas as though I fear to take them off him, as though I suspect he would begin stealing things were I to stop watching him for a moment. She ran her tongue over her teeth nervously. For all know, he might do just that.

aSo it would seem,a Alaric said, looking over his steepled fingers at the dwarf. aI presume you had no idea that we were under siege when you jumped onto Mendicantas back as he cast his return spell?a aHad I known,a Partus said with a slightly sour frown, aI might still have done it, because being surrounded by the dark elven army here is still likely safer than what your blighting guildmates are planning over in Luukessia. Theyare going to fight a slow retreat across the northern steppes trying to buy time for Syloreas to emptya"as in for all the people to leave the lands.a The dwarf snorted in derision. aHow well do you think that oneas likely to turn out?a aMendicant,a Alaric said, looking to the goblin, ayou are here to make Cyrusas report, yes?a The goblin had been still throughout the meeting thus far, as though he were awed by the surroundings; the Council Chambers and their stone walls, slow, quiet hearths that radiated warmth through the room. It was dark outside the windows out on the balcony, but within the chambers it was light, with torches aplenty burning on sconces on the walls in such close proximity that one could comfortably read in the room despite the hour.

aMendicant?a Alaric asked again.

The goblin seemed to shake himself out of a stupor of sorts. aOh, yes. Partus speaks correctly, the bulk of the Sanctuary army is presently engaged in a long holding action on the Filsharron Steppes, north of Enrant Monge.a Alaric stirred, but the rest of the table was quiet and still, save for Partus, who shot a wicked grin at Vara. She held the urge to let fly a force blast but only just. aCyrus, Longwell and a few others are making their way to Vernadam to try and sway them to enter the war with their army, and Actaluere is presently calling up the remainder of its forces to meet them at Enrant Monge in an effort to effect a counterthrust north and destroy the portal in the cave that is allowing them to flood Luukessia with these dead souls.a Mendicantas eyes glistened as he spoke matter-of-factly. aLord Davidona"a aLord of damned near nothing, if you ask me,a Partus said with a chortle below his breath.

aHeas Lord of Perdamun and Warden of the Southern Plains,a Vara snapped without thinking then tempered the widening of her eyes out of sheer reflex. Why in the blazes did I say that? Partus made no reply but feigned being impressed by flattening his lips, then pursing them, holding a hand over his mouth as though amazed.

aLord Davidon requests aid,a Mendicant said after a momentary stumble, afor you to send another army to reinforce him and allow him to better fight back in the impending battle, assuming you have not already sent such an army.a Alaric sighed, while Ryin laid his head on the high back of his chair. Vara expected Erith to shift her gaze around the table, but her sight was firmly fixed on Partus at her right, the dark elfas icy glare beyond any sort of loathing Vara had come to expect even from the mercurial healer. aCan we teleport him into Saekaj?a Erith asked, indicating Partus with a nod of her head. aI think head do well there, in the vekatag pens, eating their dung with the rest of the mushroomsa"a aHow Iave missed you as well, Erith,a Partus said with a crooked grin. aI donat suppose weave spoken since the day I left the Daringa"a aYou mean the day when you stripped our guild of most our members and left for Goliath?a Her arms were folded in front of her, and her teeth were bared in a snarl. aGee, Partus, I canat really think of any reason why I might not have spoken to you since then. Oh, wait, because youare a traitorous, lecherous ass.a Partus feigned innocence and looked around the table as if for support. aLecherous? Just because we had a singular night of passiona"a aIt wasnat a night,a Erith said. aIt wasnat even a minute. Though I can see why you might have thought so; judgment is the first thing to go when drunka"a aAye,a Partus agreed sadly, awhich is why I was in your bed to begin witha"a aENOUGH!a Alaric said, loud enough to draw the attention of all in the chamber.

There was a squeak at the door and it opened; Andren slid in as Vara stared at the healer, perplexed. Vaste followed a moment later and shut the door behind him, his staff in hand, and the troll stared at the table and those around it.

There was the sound of a chair sliding back and Partus was on his feet, his hammer unslung. aMy gods, itas a troll.a Vaste blinked at the dwarven interloper who had been sitting with his back to the door and was now standing, weapon in hand. aWell spotted. What gave it awaya"that Iam seven feet tall or the green skin and big teeth?a Partus hesitated, keeping his eyes on Vaste. He turned his head to speak to Alaric out of the corner of his mouth. aDid you always have a troll, Alaric? Theyare savages, you know.a Vasteas heavy frame swelled with a deep breath and then a long sigh followed. aYes, I know, uncivilized I may be, standing here without a weapon drawn while youare clearly about to challenge me to a duel, but what can I say? I abhor civilized society. Iad rather just sneak up behind you when youare unable to defend yourself and mash you into a fine paste with my bare hands.a Partus pointed his hammer at Vaste. aYouall find me a greater challenge than you think if you mean to attack me when Iam not expecting it.a aI doubt Iall find you much at all, unless Iam crawling around on my hands and knees,a Vaste said, and promptly walked past Partus to his seat, turning his hammer aside and toward the hearth with a gentle push of his staff. aThanks to the rest of you for speaking up for me when he called me a savage, by the way.a aIt was unworthy of answer,a Alaric said, at the head of the table, his helm still on. His eye was piercing through the slight gloom that inhabited the room; not because of the darkness, Vara realized, but because of her mood. He should have come back as well, not this miniaturized jackass. aAndren,a Alaric said, turning to the healer, who was in Nyadas usual seat next to Vara, athank you for joining us.a aAye,a Andren said, then twitched as though he were reaching for something near his belt, hesitated, and thought the better of it. aCanat pretend I know what this is all about, though.a aI am taking things into consideration,a Alaric said. aMendicant, finish your report, if you please? Cyrus requests aid, I believe you said?a aIn most strenuous terms, sir,a the goblin said. aWe need assistance, desperately, to be able to finish this fight and destroy the portal. These things, this scourge, they are beyond number.a aAs you may be able to tell,a Alaric said quietly, awe have some minor problems of our own; the dark elves have left an army in place around Sanctuary to cut us off from the outside world while they attempt to starve us out and break us.a aHowas it all going so far?a Partus asked snidely.

aPoorly on the starving us out,a Vaste answered him with a grin, aeven more poorly on the breaking us. Spirits are high. Weare planning a dance recital for next week.a aHow exciting,a Partus said without enthusiasm.

aWhile I do not believe we could spare the army Cyrus has called for,a Alaric said, aI believe sending a messengera"or two, as the case may bea"would be both wise and prudent. Thus I am considering sending you,a he nodded to Andren, aand Mendicant, to deliver the message to Cyrus that help will not be arriving.a aWell, wonat that be a fun message to deliver,a Andren muttered.

Mendicant straightened in his chair, and spoke, slowly. aI do not believe sending only two people to deliver that message would be wise.a Alaric frowned. aWhy not?a aBecause to get to Cyrus and the rest of the army,a Ryin said, athe messengers would have to travel through the Kingdom of Actaluere by themselves.a aI thought you said that Actaluere was now allied with our armyas cause?a Erith asked, frowning. aWhy would they deny our messengers free passage?a aThey wouldnat,a Ryin said, speaking over Mendicant, abut you said Milos Tiernan was at the front with the army?a Mendicant nodded. aDid he leave Hoygraf in place along the route?a The goblin nodded again. aThereas your trouble; we ran afoul of this Baron Hoygraf on the journey in.a aYou didnat think to mention this?a Vara asked, her irritation rising.

aWeave been a little busy with our own problems here,a Ryin said calmly. aFar too busy for me to mention the prosaic details of our trip, especially unrelated as they were to the crisis we were experiencing as I left Luukessia.a aSo you presume that this a Hoygraf,a Alaric tested the word, as though he were tasting it and found he disliked it immensely, awould interrupt their passage out of some grudge?a Mendicantas gaze shot immediately to Ryin, who kept calma"and yet Vara saw the hint of unease within him. aYes,a Ayend said, aif he caught a hint that we had messengers passing througha"which he woulda"they would not make through his territory alive, even though the King of Actaluere is now allied with us.a aWhat the hell did Cyrus do to him?a Vaste said, low, almost too low to be heard.

aAs I heard it,a Partus said with a wide grin, ignoring the look of frozen horror on Ryin Ayendas face, ahe stormed the manas castle, sacked the place, stabbed the man through the guts and left him to diea"which he did not, by the waya"then stole the manas wife and proceeded to cuckold him.a Partus let a hearty guffaw. aI like your General. Heas got style.a Vara felt the ice pump through her veins, freezing her expression at some bizarre in-between of shock and horror.

aSo,a Erith said into the quiet around the table, where every face was split between looking at Vara or looking away to spare her shame, ahe took the manas wife and made her his lover? That does carry something of a sting.a She cast a sidelong glare at Ryin. aI suppose you thought we were too busy for you to mention that Cyrus was taking a taste of the local flavor? And a Baroness, no less.a aWell,a Mendicant said, his voice coming back to him now in the quiet horror that no one else would speak into, athey had some sort of falling out, you see. The Baroness went back to her husband.a Vara felt the cold ratchet down a few notches. aCyrus is sleeping with Aisling now.a There was a dead calm, a quiet so unnatural as to border on the surreal. Vara felt no motion in her face at all, nothing in her head but a screaming void, an interminable desire to cry out but her mouth, strangely enough, stayed well shut, fortunately. She caught Ryinas face covered out of the corner of her eye and saw Vaste bow his head. Erith tried to give her a smile of support but it was wasted. All that was there was what she saw, the screaming void in her head the loudest silence shead ever known.

It was into that silence that Andren spoke at last. aWell done, Cyrus,a the healer said, his face a smile of grudging admiration. He looked at Vara and his grin faded. aUh a I mean a how dare he not spend these last months pining for a woman who rejected him so harshly that he fled the continent afterward.a Andren turned to Alaric, faux outrage on the healeras bearded face. aI thought you sent him there to fight, not fa"a aEnough.a Alaric was quiet this time, exhaustion seeping through every syllable. aThis is no time for levity; our brethren are cut off from us, we remain surrounded. I have no time for petty concerns of who is sleeping with whom, outside of how it affects our lines of communication.a He bowed his head, helm still blocking the view of his eyes. aThey will have to remain without assistance and without warning. I see no way to return a messenger to them.a aIf Jaanda were still here,a Vaste said, ahe would be able to. But none of our remaining enchanters are nearly skilled enough to pull off the illusory treachery it would take to cross that territory, nor would any of our rangers be a particularly good risk.a aThen we remain on the same course as before,a Alaric said, sweeping his chair back and standing abruptly. aRyin, organize quarters for our guest, Partus.a Ryin blinked. aHeas staying?a Erithas jaw dropped in disbelief. aHeas staying?a Vaste clapped his hands together in faux joy. aHeas staying? Oh goody, we can finally have that dwarven sleepover Iave always dreamed of, the naughty one where the beard getsa"a aYou stay away from me, you filthy beast,a Partus said, brow furrowed at Vaste. aIall have no part of what ever unnatural plans youare making with me at the center of them.a aCan we please come back to why heas staying?a Erith asked in a hoarse voice. aSending a wizard or druid to deliver him to Fertiss or wherever he wants to go seems a small price to pay for not having to deal with him anymore.a aI donat care to spare anyone at the moment,a Alaric said quietly, and drew up to his full height. aHe is our guest until the next time we send out a druid or wizard to somewhere suitably civilized. Until then, he can stay with us.a aWell,a Partus said, as though trying to reconcile what he was hearing, asurely being under embargo as you are, youall be needing to send someone to gather a daily ration of food from a major citya"Pharesia, Reikonosa"any of them will do.a aActually, weare stealing our food from convoys that the dark elves have purloined from local farmers,a Vaste said. aItas all very efficient, and saves us from having toa"you know, being a former member of Goliath and thus well versed in all manner of banditrya"pay for any of it.a aSo,a Partus said, ayou could drop me off on one of your raiding expeditions. I could cross the Plains of Perdamun on horse.a aDo you have a horse?a Alaric askeda"with some small trace of satisfaction, Vara thought.

aWell, noa"a aYou could always walk your way across the Plains of Perdamun,a Vaste suggested in an oh-so-helpful tone. aAfter all, theyare only swarming with dark elves at the moment. Iam sure theyad love to have a conversation with such a charming fellow as yourself.a Partusas face fell. aI a uh a donat really think Iam on very good terms with the dark elves. I wouldnat care to run across them. Are you certain you couldnat lend me a horse?a aIam afraid weare rather in need of all the horses we have at the moment,a Alaric said smugly. aBut worry not, Iam certain weall have a wizard heading toward a safe city in the next six months or so.a Vara watched him carefully and tried to guess at his game; as usual, the man they dubbed the Ghost was beyond explanation. Keeping the dwarf here is pointless. Heas no more use to us than a weight around our necks; best be rid of him.

aThat seems to be enough for now,a Alaric said, and his armor began to fade. He turned insubstantial, into the faint fog, and rolled under the door to the stairs, disappearing faster than he usually did.

aA houseguest,a Vaste said, now sarcastic. aI couldnat be more thrilled! Iall bring you the good linens, the ones with small pebbles crushed into them for your comfort and our amusement.a aIf youall come with me,a Ryin said, gesturing to Partus, aweall find you some accomodations.a aThe dungeons have some particularly lovely quarters,a Erith suggested. aPut him in the one next to the rock giant.a aYou have a rock giant, too?a Partus asked. aGods, do you have anyone normal?a Vara didnat wait for the repartee nor any sort of reply; she was out the door and going, her feet heavy on the stairs up to her quarters. It was evening, after alla"time to sleep, she told herself. Or at least try and pretend to.

aHey,a came the quiet voice behind her, the low baritone of Vaste.

aWhat do you want?a she snapped at him, unaware of how much raw emotion she was putting into her voice until she heard it.

Vaste came up behind her, a slow walk, his feet making soft footfalls on every stone. aHeas not dead, you know.a aI bloody well know that,a she said, lashing out again with her voice. aNot that I care. I donat, actually. I donat bloody well care.a Vaste gave her a subtle nod. aYouare a liar and a thief.a aWhat?a She stared at him, perplexed and irritable. aI am not a thief!a aSo you admit to being a liar?a aI admit to nothing,a she said, asave for that you are a baffling, exasperating sort of fool whose flabby green arse is ripe for a good thumping.a Vaste raised an eyebrow at her then turned around, sticking out his backside and looking down as though to inspect it. aIt does look wonderful, doesnat it? Ripe for thumping indeed. The way you say it makes it sound so kinky and appealing.a She let out a harsh breath, as though it could contain some magic that might strike him dead on the spot. aI am in no mooda"a aYouave been in no mood for quite some time,a Vaste said. aI donat expect the news that heas sleeping with other women will do much to improve it.a She let out a mirthless laugh. aIf it is as you say it is, why would you bother to put yourself in my path when you know that Iall be ready to spray whoever annoys me with nothing but the sharpest acid?a Vaste didnat grin, didnat smile at all, for once. aBecause somebody should be there to take it.a aWhat?a She didnat quite boggle at him but was only just shy of it.

aI expect youad think I would argue for Cyrus, or something of the sort,a Vaste said, straitlaced. aBut Iam not. Cyrus did what Cyrus did, I wonat defend or condone it. But neither is he my concern at this moment. My concern is you.a aIam fine,a Vara said, letting her mouth stretch into a thin line, like the bricks in the wall. Just like the bricks, unbreakable, standing strong.

aWith as much lying as youare doing, I canat imagine it will be much longer before you cross into the domain of thieving simply from sheer boredom at having mastered the lying.a He raised an eyebrow again. aWould you say youare also getting better at lying to yourself with all the practice youare getting?a aWhat do you want from me?a She felt a great wall of overwhelm, of fatigue, and suddenly going to her bed didnat seem so outrageous.

aI would like to see,a Vaste said, amy favorite paladin stop taking it on the chin and start being honest with everyone.a He shrugged. aBut since Alaric is probably going to continue to be mysteriousa"a aA joke,a she said quietly, and felt the push of the emotions within her. aSo excellently timed, too.a aIall settle for getting you to admit that youare in love with Cyrus and that with every bit of word from Luukessia you die a little inside, and every month without word from them kills you a little more.a Vaste stared down at her, and the humor was gone. aThe truth is probably the hardest part to admit; especially for someone as aa aReserved?a She said, her voice brittle. She stared into his eyes, which were immense and brown, warm, something that she had always found favorable about him. Perhaps the only thing.

aI was going to say tragically repressed, but why donat we meet in the middle and say stoic?a He awkwardly put a large hand on her shoulder and rested it there lightly on her armor. aI know that you must be going through some sort of mental obstacle course of epic proportions, and that with the death of your father, and before that your mother, that you must bea"a aShe warned me away,a Vara said at a whisper. aBefore she died, the last conversation we had, we were yelling and screaming at a fever pitch. I told her I loved him, and that I didnat care about my responsibilities as the shelasaakur, and she threw it back in my face. I said some very unkind things, some very crude things meant to shock her. She warned me away, told me that he would die before me and that I would mourn him all the rest of my life.a She clenched her eyes tightly shut, as though doing so would mean all the emotion she was feeling would vanish like the world when they were shut, aand I listened to to her. I knew she was right, and so I told him goodbye, that it would never work aa She heard her voice break a little, aand I sent him into the arms of hera"that harlot.a aI would try not to think of it that way if I were you,a Vaste said. aYou attempted to make the best decision you could at that moment. Sure, it turned out to be monumentally shortsighted on an emotional level,a he grimaced when she looked at him, disbelief at what he had said. aSorry. But your mother had the right of it, if we were only looking at the long-term ramifications. Everything she told you is true, on a purely logical level.a The troll looked strangely sage as he spoke. aBut the problem is that love and logic are the poorest of bedfellows. Not unlike you and Cyrus.a aHow am I supposed to comport myself in this circumstance?a She shuffled two steps to the right and put her back to the wall, between two sconces. The clink of her armor against the stone was enough to remind her that she wore it to protect herself from harm. But there was no protection from Cyrus Davidon, he got under my damned armor as surely as though I werenat wearing any at all. aHow am I to handle the thought of him a over there a with her a while Iam here, trying to keep the only home I have left from being ground under the boot of the greatest tyrant in Arkaria?a She brushed a hand along her smooth face, felt it run up to her eyes and cover them, blotting out the light. aHow am I supposed to a Vaste a how do I a?a She dissolved, then, and he caught her in his massive arms, enfolded her in them, and she sobbed into his white robes, felt the tears trickle down her cheeks in a way that was still foreign to her. She felt safe and warm, wrapped up with him there, and she held onto him for quite some time, just like that, in the middle of the hallway.

Chapter 71.

Cyrus They rode south for more than a month, and the autumn hounded them the whole way as though they were the prey and it was a predator. The steppes near Filsharron were low, and the yellowed grass went green for a time as they rode west to avoid the swamps southeast of Enrant Monge. It was a long, drawn out course, but they saw no sign of scourge as they went, and after a weekas travel, Longwell looked ahead upon the apex of a small hill and pointed; ahead of them was a short wall, and tucked behind it was a stone house.

aGuard house,a Longwell said. aAt least a couple men manning it. They should have seen us already; though they may report to a larger watch, which would be aa he held a hand above his eyes to shield them from the sun, aover there.a He pointed to a nearby hill that was taller, covered with trees. Cyrus could see man-made structures breaking up the symmetry of the woods atop it, but it wasnat easily defined. aWeare at the crossing for Gundrun; theyall be wanting to know who we are and for what purpose weare coming to Galbadien there at that house.a aMight I suggest we not tell them weare here to overthrow the King?a Jaanda said it with a wry smile, but it caused a pallor to settle over them all.

The smell of autumn was in the air; the wind came from the east, the stink of the scourge was gone for at least now, and the leaves were turning all along the road. Reds and golds were full fledged, and the shock of them together was something Cyrus couldnat quite recall. The air was crisp, like the first bite of an apple, and the briskness spread across his skin, the sweat from riding giving him the chills. The woods had been quiet around them, this intermittent sea of trees and fields that was something much less desolate than the steppes had been.

aAre you ready for this?a Cyrus asked Longwell, as they trod along the road on horseback. It was only the ten of them; Cyrus, Aisling, Longwell, Martaina, Jaanda, Nyad, Scuddar, and Calene Raverle, along with a healer whose name Cyrus had yet to catch, a human who said little to nothing. Raverle had made a fairly quick recovery after Green Hill and had made no mention of what had happened, though Cyrus knew there was a stillness about her that hinted at things, things going on in her depths that he preferred to not inquire about.

aReady to either usurp my fatheras throne or claim my birthright, depending on how things go?a Longwell did not look at him, merely kept his gauntletted hands on the reins as they went. aI suppose Iam as ready for that as Iall ever get.a aGlad youare keeping it in perspective,a Cyrus said, and they went on in silence.

The border crossing was a simple thing. The guards said nothing to them, merely nodded assent as they approached the shack. When they had gone a few hundred feet past it along the path into the woods, Cyrus turned back to Longwell. aThat was easy.a aThey see ten people, one of them wearing a surcoat of the Galbadien dragoons,a Longwell said without emotion, athey probably assume weare not going to invade the Kingdom as we are.a aThat makes them all the more foolish, then, doesnat it?a Jaanda asked from behind them.

aNot in the context of Luukessia,a Longwell said. aA man with a spell may do much damage in Arkaria, but very few spellcasters would care to brave the bridge simply to come to Luukessia for the joy of it.a The weather over the next days was pleasing to Cyrus, who had not missed the hot, listless days of summer, even after the few he had spent waiting at the camp near Filsharron for the battle to come to them. The nights he spent under the bedroll with Aisling, separated slightly from the others. She was the only thing that allowed him to sleep soundly at night; her activity, her vigor. He lay down at night spent not only from the ride but from her, letting himself rest in her.

His dreams were clear, surprisingly so, considering the scourge and all that it meant for Luukessia. They rode on at a fast pace but at one which allowed for proper care of the horses. He watched Martaina at night when she looked after them, picking out their feet, using Nyadas ability to conjure grains and oats for them when they stayed in the wilderness instead of an inn. Some nights they did stay in towns and ate hot food made in the taverns instead of the hard cheese they carried with them. Occasionally Martaina would bring down an animal on an evening when they took extra rest and would make a stew or something similar. Occasionally it was long into the night before she was done cleaning and preparing the animal, but when Cyrus had the first taste, he knew the wait was worth it, even tempered as it was with the pickled eggs and conjured bread that they had to cut the hunger pangs.

They crossed through canyons and foothills, came down through wide forests choked with game. Those nights were bounteous with their harvests, and the nights spent in roadside inns where the fare was little more than warmer bread and the barest stew were ill enjoyed by comparison. Cyrus began to feel the slightest of his lifeas blood come back to him one night sitting by a fire, in a circle with the others, his pateraa"a cooking pot, cup and bowl all in onea"filled to the brim in front of him with something Martaina had created from some animals she had snared and the spices she carried with her.

aThis is really quite magnificent,a Jaanda said, supping it straight from his patera. aWhere did you learn to do all these thingsa"hunting, fishing, cooking, tracking?a aMy father,a Martaina said, stirring the small cauldron that she carried on the back of her horse. aHe was one of the last of the breed of elves who lived their lives in the Iliaradaouran Woods outside Pharesia. That forest is rich with wildlife, and a small band of our people chose to live outside the city gates, off the land rather than within the walls, herding, domesticating animals. It was a simpler life, a subsistence life, rather than one focused on creating excess and serving the monarchy, with their demand for as much of your grain and livestock as they could lay hands on.a She stirred the spoon slowly in the cauldron, a small one, only slightly larger than Cyrusas helm. aHe taught me how to fire an arrow as quickly as you can pluck it, how to follow tracks, and skin a beast fast, get it over the fire and roast it on spit.a She blinked. aIt was all we did, all day long, and the sooner we finished those chores the sooner we could get to the idle fun of the things we wanted to do.a She smiled. aSo we got very good at it.a aI take it heas passed on now?a Nyad asked quietly. aIf he was one of the Iliaradaouran woodsmen, I know the last of their number wasa"a aYes,a Martaina said simply, cutting her off. aAbout a milennia ago. He was the last. I chose not to follow in his footsteps to carry it on.a Nyad nodded without saying much else; it occurred to Cyrus after a space of seconds that the tension was heavy, which was probably due to the fact that Nyadas father was the monarchy that Martainaas father resented. aSo,a he said, trying to break the silence, awhat do you think theyare doing back home right now?a He felt a peculiar twinge at the words, especially the thought of Sanctuary as home. Itas been nearing a year since weave been away a aItas fall now,a Calene Raverle spoke up. aApples would be coming into season in the Northlands.a Her voice was soft but strained, as though it had been poured through a sifter and all that was left was smoothness. It could barely be heard it over the sound of the crickets though everyone listened intently. aHave you ever walked through an orchard on a fall day and picked apples as you went?a Her eyes were far off now, thinking about it. aFelt the cool grass beneath your feet, like a thousand tickling kisses?a She let a small smile crop up on her petite face. aYou take the first bite of one, hear the crunch, feel it crackle in your mouth, the tartness of the yellow ones.a She took a breath. aThey make cider with some of the excess, you know, and if you can get some cinnamon for it aa She breathed again and a sadness crept over her. aI donat suppose they have much in the way of apple orchards around Sanctuary though, do they?a aI believe there is one across the river Perda, to the south,a Jaanda said. aI miss fall nights at Sanctuary, when the barest chill cancels out the warm sun. You know that two-week period after summer ends and we get our first chill, but then the warm weather comes back before it turns a little blustery? I like that. Itas like the last kiss of summer before it leaves. Not that it gets desperately wintery in the Plains of Perdamun, like it does outside Saekaj, anyway, but I like that last a that last goodbye. A fond farewell, if you will.a aThe gardens around the palace have a certain kind of vegetation that only blooms in fall,a Nyad said. aPharesia is far enough south that winteras touch is not that painful, but when they prepare the gardens for winter, it is an impressive sight a for the few days when it freezes, they make ice sculptures and fill the grounds with them. And at the smaller palace outside Termina, they used toa"a Nyadas broad face carried a smile that faded as she looked around and settled on Martaina, who stared evenly back at her. aWell, it was beautiful. Though I suppose thatas gone now,a she said with a touch of sadness.

aLongwell?a Cyrus asked, and the dragoon seemed to settle into deep thought.

aVernadam sits so low in the land that summer lasts longer for us than it does for most of Arkaria,a he said. aWinter is a short affair, a few months only of lower temperatures, and a very quick autumn to bridge between the two.a He shrugged. aI spent time in my youth at Enrant Monge and in the northern parts of Galbadien and found them to be very different than life at Vernadam. Autumn in the north is like winter at home.a aWhat about you?a Aisling spoke up, dragging Cyrus out of his quiet. aWhat do you miss most about autumn at home?a Cyrus pondered that for a moment. aI donat, I suppose. I mean, Sanctuaryas been home for the last couple years. Before that I was living in the slums of Reikonos, where every day is the same, even the ones where the snow goes to your knees. Before that aa he shrugged. aStill in Reikonos, all the way back to when I was at the Society of Arms.a aSo,a Nyad asked, ayou donat have any distinct memories of autumn? Nothing?a After a momentas thought, Cyrus shrugged. aWe went on a training exercise to the Northlands once in the fall, the year after I joined the Society. It was almost as much a camping trip as anything, to get us familiar with staying out overnight, sleeping under the stars. But they took us away from the city for this one, on a long hike, aided by a wizard for transport. I remember seeing the leaves change. You donat see much of that in Reikonos, because itas not like Termina; there arenat many trees in the city itself, itas mostly houses and buildings. I remember that pretty well, the hues of the leaves, how different they were from the green ones I was used to seeing. Trees all down the road and beyond.a He hesitated. aI think that was the training exercise where I finally got the Able Axes to leave me the hell alone.a aAble Axes?a Nyad said, her brow puckered with confusion.

aBlood Family,a Cyrus said. aThe Society of Arms splits its trainees into two separate classes, the Able Axes and the Swift Swords.a aAh,a she said, with a subtle nod. aThey were bullying you, then?a Cyrus shrugged, felt the cool breeze. aThey had their reasons. Itas all very competitive, very aus vs. thema in the Societyas structure. They saw me as an easy target, so they took their turns trying to break me.a He shrugged again. aIt didnat work.a aWhat did you do?a Jaanda asked. Cyrus looked around; every eye was on him, even Martainaas, which was decidedly knowing.

Cyrus waited before answering, sifted through his emotions to see if he could find it, a thread of regret for what had happened. It was strangely absent. aI killed their leader.a Nyad choked on a spoonful of stew, and a little of it sluiced out of her upper lip, dribbling down her pale chin and along the cleft. aIam sorry a you killed him?a She waited for the nod, then looked around, wide-eyed, to the others sitting around the fire before she came back to him. aHow old were you?a aSeven, I think,a Cyrus answered, racking his memory.

aMy gods,a Nyad said, holding her bowl apart from her as though it contained something appalling. aHow old was he?a Cyrus gave it some thought. aHe was about a oh, I donat know, sixteen or so? Perhaps seventeen.a Nyad stared at him, gaping. The look was not held by anyone else, though Longwell watched him sidelong, wary, and Jaanda seemed disquieted, his teeth visible in a grimace. aWhy did you kill him?a Nyad asked.

aWell,a Cyrus said, ain fairness, it was a training exercise, and it was Swift Swords versus Able Axes, and while we were supposed to keep it non-lethal and strictly to more of a atag, youare outa system, he didnat play fair. So I killed him.a aOh,a Nyad said with a distant sort of nod, aso it was an accident.a aNo,a Cyrus said, and took another sip of his stew, aI knew full well what I was doing. I bludgeoned him with a tree branch until his head split open.a aBut aa Nyadas voice came again into the quiet. No one else was eating now. aa You did it for your team, then? To win the game? For the a Swift Swords?a aI wasnat on the Swift Swords team,a Cyrus said, and this time he did feel a pinch of emotion, but he took another sip of the stew anyway.

aSo you killed your own teammate?a Jaanda asked, watching him carefully.

aNo,a Cyrus said and finally felt the burn of it. He looked to his left to see Aisling watching him, curiosity in her eyes. So she doesnat know, either. He looked to Martaina. But she does. He slowly looked around the circle and saw only Scuddar Inashara nodding in agreement. aI was on my own, you see.a There was a steely quiet that was finally broken by Jaanda. aI admit my understanding of the Society of Arms is somewhat a flawed. But I was given to understand that every single child brought in was given a Blood Familya"for kinship, for a familial structure and familiarity.a The enchanter spread his arms wide. aFor support. So that even while learning the hardness of battle, you are not ever fully alone.a aTrue,a Cyrus said, and put his patera aside, the stew now gone. aBut occasionally an inductee is deemed unworthy of having a Blood Family and is separated out to survive on their own.a He felt a tightness in his jaw. aI was one of those.a There was a silence. aBut aa Jaanda said, athey would have all been arrayed against you, yes?a He stared at Cyrus, and there was a horror behind the enchanteras eyes. aThey base everything in their training off of Blood Families?a Cyrus nodded. aEvery exercise pits the Blood Families against each other?a Jaanda kept on, and Cyrus nodded every time. aSo if you are without a Blood Family, then you huddle with the others who are without one? Make your own sort of small circle?a Cyrus smiled, but there was no warmth to it. aItas a rare thing, being without a Blood Family. I was the first in five years. The one before me died two months into the training. Typically aoutcasts,a as theyare called, donat survive six months.a He gave a slight nod. aAnd I do mean survive. Theyare usually found dead in the morning hours, well past the time when a resurrection spell would be able to bring them back.a aMurder,a Nyad said with a quiet whisper. aNothing more than child murder.a aAye,a Longwell said, arms folded where he sat on a log. aThatas pretty savage, even for a guild that trains warriors.a Cyrus shrugged. aIf you know thatas how outcasts die going ina"and they do tell you, by the way, probably as a suggestion to the Able Axes and Swift Swords, but I took it as a warning to me to be scarce during the nighttime hoursa"it makes it that much easier to avoid that sort of death.a aBarbaric,a Nyad said, shuddering. aAbsolutely barbaric.a aIam certain that back when Pharesia had a Society of Arms, they did it the same way,a Cyrus said lacksadaisically. aBut itas all rather irrelevant now.a aHow is this irrelevant?a Jaanda said. aHow did you survive? Most donat make it six months? You were there for a twelve years?a Cyrus shrugged. aI fended them off. I did what I did on that training exercise after the first year and gave the Able Axes a string of injuries that made them afraid of me. And I held the Swift Swords at bay until Cass Ward came of an age to keep them off me.a aHe was your friend, then?a Aisling spoke up at last. aCass? Heas an officer of The Daring, right? But he was your friend?a aNo,a Cyrus said with a slight smile. aAn outcast lives and dies alone in the Society of Arms. Theyare not considered of the Society, you see, not part of the family. So youare not allowed to talk to them. But he respected me because we fought together. We didnat speak until after we graduated; but I did know him. Friends? Hardly. I didnat have friend until aa Cyrus swallowed heavily. aUntil Narstron. Or at least Imina, if you want to count her as that.a There was a deadened silence after that, a quiet that settled on their party that no one seemed to want to break, so Cyrus did it himself. aCome on. This was all years ago. I donat feel sorry for myself about it, so none of you should, either.a aSorry,a Jaanda said, with a weak smile, aitas just a uh a that is truly appalling. It might take a bit of adjustment to get over that. Iam no stranger to the cruelties that others may deal out, but that a is a special sort of disturbing, if I may say so.a Cyrus felt a cool settle over him, like the waters deep in his soul became placid. aIt was life. It made me who I am today.a aThe only one without a Blood Family to ever graduate the Society of Arms,a Martaina said from behind the stew pot; her gaze was not accusatory, but something else, her words tinged with slightest awe. aTo survive being an outcast.a Cyrus shrugged. aYou do what you have to. It was just a day-to-day struggle, like everyone else experiences in lifea"a He held up a hand to stop Nyadas protest, aa different level of struggle, perhaps, but a struggle. Everyone has adversities. I made it through, and we donat really need to go sift it. I wouldnat be who I am now if I hadnat faced what I faced then.a aAnd they do teach you how to be fearless?a Longwell asked, perked up with interest. Cyrus saw the others, as well, easing up, paying attention, waiting for his answer.

aAs close as they can get,a Cyrus said. aThey expose you to it, over and over, things that scare you, and it just gradually fades away, like night turning to day. Snakes, bugs, battle, blood, everything, all the major things. They talk about fear all the time, how it can hurt you, how it can make you flinch. Fear is death on the battlefield, the surety of injury and failure because youall hesitate at the wrong moment and itall cost you.a aInteresting,a Jaanda said, as though he wanted to say more, but didnat. aI believe a I have reached my end for the evening. With a nod to each of them, he spoke once more. aGood night, all.a aI should probably turn in as well,a Cyrus said, and stood, grasping his patera.

aIall wash that for you if you want,a Martaina said from behind the cauldron. aI have to stay awake a little longer anyway, and Iam going to take care of the cauldron before I go to bed.a aSure,a Cyrus said and set it next to her. Aisling did the same a moment after him, and he walked behind a tree, about twenty feet from the campfire, where he had set his bedroll alongside Aislingas.

aYou never had a friend until after you left the Society?a She watched him closely as he took to a knee, preparing to brush himself off and remove his armor. Her hand rested on his shoulder, and he could only just feel her touch through the metal.

He pulled the snaps and freed his neck from the gorget, then slid his pauldrons off before unfastening his breastplate. aItas true.a Her hand was on his chainmail now, and he could feel the lightness of her touch as her slightly elongated fingernails rose to his neck and applied the gentlest of pressure. aNo lovers either, then?a He shook his head. aNot until Imina.a He unsnapped his greaves, then slid off the chainmail pants and shirt while she watched. He looked at her, gauged her expression. aYouare feeling sorry for me, arenat you?a aNot too bad,a she said with a whisper. aMore sorry that you didnat have much of a life for all those years. That you didnat get to feel so many things aa Her fingernails danced down the cloth that still covered his chest, and she tugged it up over his head, then ran her fingers down his chest hair, gently pulling the strands. aLike making love in the autumn woods as the leaves fell down around you.a aOh?a He took a look around, and a breeze came rustling through, shaking a few leaves loose and causing one of them to land in her hair. aIt would appear to be autumn now, and leaves are falling around us.a aYou caught that too, huh?a She didnat bother to pull the leaf out of her hair, just left it there as she kissed him. Even through the activity that followed, it stayed there as though some sort of badge until the breeze kicked up the following morning and it was carried it off on the winds in a way that Cyrusas past never could be.

Chapter 72.

The towers of Vernadam were higher than Cyrus remembered, as the castle appeared on the horizon the day after they passed over the bridge at Harrowas Crossing. The former battlefield had been quiet, the dead all cleared and few reminders to show that there had even been a clash there some eight months earlier. It was a clear day, with little of the chill that had been so prevalent farther north.

They rode through the town at the base of the hill that Vernadam was built upon, and it was quiet as well, as though everything had died down after the harvest. There were no soldiers, no women plying their wares outside the inn. The market was much less active than when last they had been through, and by the time they were climbing the switchback road that led up to the castle, Cyrus wondered if Galbadienas army was even still stationed in the area.

At the castle gates they met no resistance. Guards saluted Longwell, who led the procession. aIt would appear we are expected,a Jaanda said.

aThey watch the roads,a Longwell said. aNo one gets this far unless theyare wanted. Apparently, my father is amenable to my visit.a There was a stir at the far side of the courtyard as they rode in, and Cyrus saw Odau Genneras bulk coming down the long stairs that led up to the keep. He was flanked on either side by guards with polearms.

aHail, Odau Genner,a Longwell said as he handed the reins of his horse to a stableboy. aHow fare thee?a aI fare well enough, Lord Longwell,a Odau Genner said, athough I admit my surprise to see you.a Longwell frowned at him. aSurely you were apprised of my journey here by your spies.a aOh, certainly,a Genner said, making a sweeping bow as he reached the bottom steps. aWe knew of your crossing all the way up at Gundrun. That you came at the head of such a small force while your army remains engaged north of Enrant Monge was of some interest, however.a aYou know that they are engaged in battle, then?a Longwell asked. aDo you know what they battle?a aSome form of creatures,a Genner said slowly, aor so the rumor goes.a aThe reports your spies give you about my passage through our land are treated as certainty,a Longwell said, his fingers hanging upon his prominent chin, still smooth from the shave he had given it that very morning, as Cyrus watched with some amusement. aYet the words of your spies about a threat that will swallow our entire Kingdom whole are said to be rumors. Very interesting, your somewhat schismatic approach to gathering intelligence.a aWell,a Odau Genner said, nervously, awe have had several descriptions, but of course His Majesty saysa"a aYou need not acquiant me with what aHis Majestya has said about the whole endeavor,a Longwell said dryly, afor I suspect that it will be almost as nonsensical as an army of the living dead sweeping south out of the mountains, killing every living thing in sight. Of course,a he went on, aat least the latter has the actuality of truth on its side; whatever my father has said has only the grounding of a throne and crown that count for less and less as the days go by.a aThat a is a very a unkind thing to say about your father,a Odau Genner said.

aItas also fairly accurate,a Longwell said. aI have need to speak with the King. Is he about?a aHe remains in his throne room,a Odau Genner said. aI am told that there are quarters prepared for you, that you may wash the dust of your journey off, and that you may then be seen for dinner. If you would care to follow me,a Genner said with a sweep of his hand.

Cyrus gestured for Longwell to lead the way then followed up the long, wide stairs that took them into the foyer, the massive tile and marble entry to the castle. Stewards waited, taking each of them in turn. Cyrus followed his and felt Aisling shadowing just behind him. He turned and saw Martaina beyond, her sharp eyes looking in all directions at once, head swiveling around to keep watch on everything. He started to ask her if she expected an ambush but dismissed the idea; only a fool would not be paranoid here, especially given how we parted last from the King.

They wandered through the corridors, following the stewards. No guards were in sight, something Cyrus thought slightly odd, and it increased to his worry. They were led along the back side of the castle, to the hallway where Cyrus had stayed during his previous visit. He felt the bite of tension as the steward led him straight to the door of the suite where he had stayed when last he had been at Vernadam, and he turned to give Aisling a hopeful smile. She seemed unaffected, cool, still there at his left elbow, just behind him.

aYour room, sir,a the steward said. He was a teenager, but his voice was high like a eunuchas, and Cyrus didnat pause to ponder that possibility too deeply.

aThank you,a Cyrus said, and gestured for Aisling to enter first. aI donat need a tour.a aVery well, sir,a came the high-pitched response. aIall be back for you in two hours, when dinner is about to be served.a aThank you,a Cyrus said, and shut the door.

Aisling was already slinking around, her shoes padding on the marble floors as she examined the tapestries near the window. aVery impressive,a she said. aMuch better than my accomodations last time I was here.a aOh?a Cyrusas eyes caught on the rug before the hearth, where a flame was already lit and the logs were piled high inside. The rug was just as he recalled it, a fluffy mass of fur. He recalled the softness of it to the touch, the feeling of what he had been experiencing when last he had been here.

aYes,a she said, jarring his gaze up to her. aYou got one of the most impressive suites, according to one of the stewards I spoke with last time.a aIs that so?a Cyrus muttered. aApparently Iam still just as honored a guest as I was last time. I assumed this time itad be the stables for certain.a aFor the hero of Harrowas Crossing?a Aisling said demurely, sliding behind a curtain in front of the window, then stepping out of the other side, smiling. aSurely a welcome of the sort you deserve is in order.a aSurely,a Cyrus said weakly. aI suppose weall have to dress more formally for the dinner.a aThat does seem to be the norm,a she said. aThough your armor wouldnat be out of the norm at all for you aa aI suppose not,a he said, and his feet carried him to the bedroom door, where he nudged it open to reveal the familiar space; lush carpets, fine furniture. It was still shadowed in darkness, and he was reminded of the first night he had spent here, with Cattrinea"before I knew who she was. Back when I thought I knew who she was.

aFond memories?a Aislingas voice came from behind his shoulder this time, and he started when he realized she was close behind him.

He began to answer but faltered. aSome, I suppose. Some not.a He looked around the room. aDo you find it a uncomfortable a knowing that when last I was here Ia"a aNo,a she said, and pushed past him gently to enter the bedroom. Her belt came off, daggers and all, and she left it on the vanity on the other side of the bed, the clink of metal scabbards on the wood as loud in this room as any shout he might have been able to recall from when last he was here. She grabbed a brush off the smooth wooden surface and ran it through her tangles of white, putting it all into lines, easy curves coming off her forehead. She put down the brush after a minute and then unstrapped her leather armor and undressed before a full-length mirror. aYou may have been here with her last time, but youare not here with her now, and I trust youare grounded enough in reality to tell the difference.a She delicately made her way across the floor. aI care less about the fact that she once held you; I care more about the fact that I hold you now.a She kissed him, long and deep, luxuriant, smooth, and he was reminded for a flash of the soft fur of the rug against his naked skin, of the caress of his fingers against scarred flesh in the bed.

She took him by the hand, and led him there to lie down. aBesides, whatever memories you have of what happened before are a welcome challenge.a She swayed over, pushed him onto his back and then climbed astride him. aI have no doubt of which youall remember more strongly when you leave this time, after all.a

Chapter 73.

When the steward arrived to collect them only an hour or so later, it was after Cyrus had had a bath drawn and luxuriated in it for a while. He wore his armora"as though I could have escaped it, he thought, as they marched along the corridor. The others were with him, all dressed in their battle garb, though with slight adjustments.

aI donat suppose any of you could find it in yourselves to wear the more elaborate dress clothing they left for us?a Cyrus asked, sotto voce, as they came around a corner and two servants jumped back against the wall, flattening themselves against it so the Sanctuary procession could pass.

aI wore the scarf they left with my ensemble,a Jaanda said, his fingers tracing down a purple silk piece of finery that Cyrus had to concede went well with his robes. aIs this not dressy enough for you?a aThe hospitality of my fatheras dining room called for a certain sort of fashion,a Longwell said in a muted tone, his armor clinking. aI dressed appropriately.a aPerhaps you should have worn a scarf as well,a Jaanda said.

They were led into the room off the foyer, the long space looking the same as last time, with its plaster walls hiding the stone that Cyrus knew was back there. The fires were burning and there were fewer chairs around the table this time; there were however, Cyrus noted, just as many servants hovering around the table.

After being seated, Cyrus waited, his nose already flooded with the smells of the kitchen, a symphony of delights to the olfactory sense. The Kingas seat to his right remained empty when the servants came through with the first course, a soup that was thinner yet more satisfactory than the last he had been served in this very room. It was heavy on the broth, and when he sniffed it, the spices reminded him of Arkaria.

Odau Genner made his way into the room with another man, taking their seats without fanfare or announcement. Count Ewen Ranson made his way across from Cyrus and seated himself without any assistance from the servants, who fawned and fussed over him. He spread his own napkin in his lap as Cyrus watched the older warrior brush them off.

aIt is of course a pleasure to see you again, Count Ranson,a Cyrus said, halting his spoon halfway to his mouth.

Ranson looked up at him, hesitant at first, looking to the empty chair to Cyrusas right as if for approval. aAnd you as well, Lord Davidon of Perdamun, Warden of the Southern Plains.a He gave Cyrus a half-hearted smile as he said the full title. aI trust all goes in the north as we have heard?a Cyrus looked back down to the soup. aI suspect so. Have you heard that these enemies will be the end of your entire land?a Ransonas face shifted not at all, but his eyes fell to his own bowl. aThat would be the gist of what I have heard, yes.a aYet your army remains idle here,a Cyrus said then took a sip from his spoon. It was hot but not too hot, and the scent of the tomato that flavored it was perfect, no hint of acidity to be found.

aMy army remains as my King commands,a Ranson said stiffly, and then lapsed into a silence with the rest of the table.

It was not until the main course of duck was brought out that the King finally made his appearance, looking even more drawn than when Cyrus had last seen him. Cyrus noted for the first time that Samwen Longwell was seated considerably down the table from him, where before he had been seated at the right hand of his father. Cyrus wondered at his place directly left of the King, and Ranson across from him. Aisling was to his left, but she seemed to be keeping quiet, and he could not hear even the faintest slurp as she daintily attacked her soup. He began to make comment to her about this then decided the better of it, finding no tactful way to tell her that she could suck more quietly than any woman head ever known.

The duck was soft, slightly greasy but succulent, as Cyrus chewed the meat. The King had entered to little enough fanfare, but he had said nothing since seating himself. He was far from jovial normally, and now he seemed even more downtrodden and quieter than ever he had been before. His paunch was still obvious, but the rest of his body was skeletal, shriveled, as though all the life had gone out all of him but his belly. His skin was badly settled on his bones and he carried an ill humor about him.

aKing Longwell,a Cyrus said, halfway through his duck breast, amight I speak with you about the situation in the north, sir?a aSpeak all you would care to,a the King said, aand I can even guarantee that I will listena"until such time as I want to hear no more.a Cyrus chose his words carefully. aSurely you know, as wise and informed as you are, that we have come from the battlefield up north where Syloreas and Actaluere have faced this new threat to Luukessia. You have heard that our armies were beaten back by this enemy, nearly broken, and survive only through sheer force of will.a Cyrus leaned heavily on the table with his elbow, trying to get the King to give him his attention. The King was plucking at the duck breast with his fingers, tearing strips of meat from it. aThese beasts are coming south, even now, and will surely reach the gates of Vernadamn by this time next year, at the latest.a aWhat of it?a King Longwell said, looking up as he took a bite of duck. Flecks of half-chewed food fell upon the table, landing just short of where Cyrusas gauntlet rested. aLet them come, I say. Let them chew up the Tiernans, those whores, and the Ungers, those brutish fools. Let them eat Syloreas and Actaluere whole.a Utter distaste dripped from his words. aI welcome them. Let them come, this a scourge. Let it scour the land, cleanse it, and when it is done, we will march forth from Vernadam and destroy them, unifying all of Luukkesia under the banners of Galbadien. He cracked an odd, loathing smile. aDonat you see? These things, they are the vessel of our ancestors, a sacred cleansing for a land torn asunder. This is our destiny. This is that which will deliver us from the fools that have run us aground with their dishonor and lies. Let them come. Galbadien has stood for ten thousand years. We shall rule the land of Luukessia for the next ten thousand.a There was a quiet that settled over the dining room, one that lasted for almost a minute unbroken, until Jaanda spoke. aOh.a aOh?a King Longwell said, looking up from his duck breast, another strip of meat clutched in his greasy fingers. aThat is what you bring me? aOh?a Such a measured reaction, such a clever deduction, really.a aI think it was probably just shock,a Cyrus said, aconsidering I just heard the most wholly unbelievable idiocy I have ever heard breathed, and it came out of the mouth of a King.a There was quiet again, and Jaandaas voice was heard once more. aOh. My.a King Longwellas putrid loathing turned toward Cyrus. aYou come into my hall and insult me. You have done nothing but insult me since the day you arriveda"a aAnd save your Kingdom from your own incompetence,a Cyrus said, interrupting the King, who did not stop speaking. aDonat forget that.a aa"the day you arrived with your arrogance,a King Longwell said, his speech now heated, aand bringing with you these westerners, thesea" thesea" magicians,a he imparted a sort of vitriol to the word that made it sound like the lowest form of insult, aand in the company of the great whore of Actaluerea"a Cyrus stood at that, his chair falling over behind him, the sound of wood cracking and splintering upon landing on the marble floor. He kept his hand well clear of his sword but glared down at the King. aJust because youare a King, it doesnat give you license to speak that way of her.a Aron Longwell looked up at Cyrus with a malignant glee buried under sheerest loathing. aDoesnat it? Didnat you as much as say so yourself to her? Did you not cast her back to her husbandas loving embrace? Did she not fill your ears with lies and poisons even as she lured you to her bed and kept you entranced with her feminine wiles? Is she not the whollest example of a harlot run amok, doing the bidding of her husband and brother, stirring chaos, whoring herself to a man with power, drawing him in while she worked her way into your confidencea"a aI consider myself a patient mana"a Cyrus said.

aThough none of the rest of us would,a Jaanda breathed quietlya"but not so quietly that most of the table didnat hear him, even over the crosstalk.

aAmen,a Aisling said.

aa"but you are rapidly straining any patience I might have,a Cyrus said.

aAs though I give any sort of a damn,a King Longwell said, and slid his seat back with great effort. He stood to look Cyrus in the eye. aYou were a man ensnared not months ago, and now you come to my court, to my house, and think to speak to me of all you know? You are a fool and you think to tell me how to run a Kingdom. You think to tell me what threatens me, when you could not see a threat with your own eyes as it dangled tantalizingly in front of you. You know nothing, Cyrus Davidon. Nothing,a the King repeated. aNothing of our land, nothing of our ways, nothing of us. You think we are easily defeated by some creatures that come from the north.a He waved a hand at Cyrus. aGo back to your land, fool. Take the Tiernan harlot with you, if you wish to be further deceived. This is Luukessia, where reign the men supreme, the architects of our own fate, keepers of our own lands and counsel. Iall be damned if some western fool that falls for the first thing dangled in front of his crotch will tell me thereas a threat to my Kingdom when nothing is of worry to mea"a aYou are the fool, Father,a Samwen Longwell said, standing abruptly. His chair did not fall, Cyrus noted, though the dragoon stood with force of his own. aYou spend all your time crafting insults and none of your time trying to use your wits. Your Kingdoma"our Kingdom,a he said, and drew a vengeful glare from his father, awas mere days from falling when the army of Sanctuary came to our aid. You could not even save your own land without help, but now you insult the man who led his army here to save us.a aI am the King!a Aron Longwellas shout echoed over the dining hall, quelling all other noise save for a servant dropping a ladle. aI am made to rule this land, guide our people, to restore us to the rightful stewardship of Luukessia. You are nothing but an ungrateful whelp who should count himself fortunate to have been begat from his lowborn mother!a With the last of his shout carrying through the room, Aron Longwellas face deteriorated, his mask of rage boiling off into one of uncertainty, his gaze falling, his eyes looking away. aShe never should have left. Never. Ungrateful aa aShe didnat leave, Father,a Samwen Longwell said from his place down the quiet table. aShe died.a Aron Longwell recoiled slightly at his sonas words. aShe died, Father. She didnat leave, she was taken by death. Do you recall? Do you remember her wasting away?a He slid free of his place at the table, started a slow advance on his father. aDo you remember her bony, frail hands, at the end? How light she became as she turned to skin and bone?a Longwellas face was flushed, and he took each step slowly, each one driving metal against marble, and they echoed as if to underscore the cadence of his words. aDo you recall? She didnat leave us, Father, not willingly. She was taken. Taken by death, ripped away, torn from our caring hands by the beast.a aI aa Aron Longwell looked down at his plate, his fingers shining in the light of the reflected chandelieras candles. aI a cannot a I a no aa aDo you remember, Father?a Samwen cocked his head as he looked at the King. aDo you remember death? Do you remember watching it, the predator, as it stalked her down? I remember sitting in that room, the still air, with the windows shut. I remember it, remember thinking as a boy that it was coming for her, that it would devour her whole and that I would have to watch it.a He was close to his father now, and stopped at armas length. aDo you recall? Did you see it, too?a aNo,a the elder Longwell shook his head, lips shut tight, eyes closed, shaking his head. aNo, no, she left, she left usa"a aShe was taken by death month by month, day by day,a Samwen said, and his hand went to his fatheras shoulder. Cyrus saw the gauntlet land gently on the Kingas green finery, and watched the son stroke the fatheras arm in reassurance. aWe watched it happen. And now, we will watch again.a The Kingas head came up, and Cyrus saw the tears in his eyes, welling there unfallen. aDeath comes for Luukessia, Father,a Samwen said, and Cyrus watched the gauntlet tighten on his fatheras arm. aIt creeps up, and it will eat this whole land bite by bite. You will watch as your northern reaches are taken first. Then,a he waved a gauntlet slowly in front of his fatheras face as though trying to hypnotize him, awhen you see them at your throat, that is when they will tear the heart from your Kingdom and destroy Vernadam.a He let his hand fall as Aron Longwell watched, spellbound, aand the rest of this land will fall behind it all the way to the shores of the sea.a A deep quiet that settled, a dread silence that no one wanted to break, waiting as they were for the King to speak. His face wavered and moved, the wrinkles crinkling at the corners of his eyes, the breaths coming short and shallow from him. A tear dripped down his face first, then another on the other cheek. aMy son,a he croaked at last, and his weathered hand came up to Samwenas face, ran over it, a finger tracing a line like he was connecting the dots between the younger Longwellas freckles. aYour face a reminds me of her,a he said, voice cracking. aYou a you a remind me of her.a The Kingas face hardened, grew spiteful once more, the lines solidifying into loathing. aAnd you left a just a like a her.a He left a fiery residue with each syllable, hate flowing out of them.

aIam sorry, Father,a Samwen Longwell said, and Cyrus saw the emotion in his eyes. He laid a hand on his fatheras face, and the old manas eyes fluttered at his touch, at the metal soft against his skin. aTruly sorry. Sorry I disappointed you. Sorry I left.a Longwellas eyes crinkled at the edges. aAnd sorrier still for what you have become.a He glanced away for just a beat, and Cyrus caught a flash of something. aBut I will remain the sorriest for what I do now.a There was no warning, just a shift in the atmosphere of the hall, as though the candles were all blown by the wind at once. Samwen Longwell, the dragoon of Galbadien, leaned forward and kissed his father on the cheek. The older man flinched as though head been struck, though Cyrus saw he plainly hadnat. There was no movement at all, save for a very subtle one of Samwenas hand, reaching under the plate of his armor. In a movement quicker than an eyeblink, a dagger emerged and was plunged into the Kingas chest. The strength of the dragoon held it true and straight, and there was only a gasp from the King as the blade entered his heart.

aIam sorry, Father,a Samwen Longwell said as the King sagged on his feet, and his son held him up, keeping him close, not letting any see what head done. aI am so sorry.a The King moaned, but Samwen held him tighter, no one else moving, perhaps some suspecting but not a word of protest voiced. They stood like that for some minutes, the father being held by the son, until the King of Galbadien finally laid the body of Aron Longwell back in his seat.

Chapter 74.

Vara Day 102 of the Siege of Sanctuary The plains were windblown, a hard, driving rain coming down around them. It was cold, rattling off her armor as the fury of the land itself descended upon Vara. She could hear the steady clatter of it against her helm, the mad tapping as it went along, watched forked lightning cut across the sky in an arc, followed by a crash as loud as if someone had hit a warhammer against armor.