aIf I get hit by lightning,a Erith yelled into the maelstrom of the storm, asomeone please cast a resurrection spell on me!a aI just assumed youad rather remain dead for a time,a Vaste yelled back. aIt is rather reminiscent of your alie there and take ita approach to the bedroom, after all.a The rain rattled Varaas helm, followed by a burst of wind. aI do wish you both would keep your damnable thoughts to yourselves,a Vara shouted to be heard, aas there are some things that I would truly prefer to remain ignorant about.a aYes, well, youave had enough of those moments in the last couple months, I suppose,a Erith called back. Vara turned to look at her as the rain patted upon her face, running down her cheeks. It was not a new sensation of late, the feel of water making its way down her face. It was not normally so cold, though.

aWill we even be able to see the enemy convoys in this mess?a Ryin spoke now, his horse just down the line from Varaas. aVisibility is a hundred feet at best.a Vara had to concede the druidas point; the rain fell in sheets, lines of water visible when it was heavier. A gust picked up and suddenly the wind blew sideways for a moment, and she turned her head as though she could shield her face from the drenching.

aPerhaps if there was some master of the magics of nature who could command the elements, and suspend this thunderstorm,a Vaste said with no small amount of irony, athen we could go about our business only as wet as we presently are, and not completely drenched with all the waters of the entire land.a aI think the land has given us all it has and then added the entirety of the Torrid Sea for good effect,a Erith said. No one found cause to disagree with her.

aI can only control so much,a Ryin spoke louder, his voice cut off in the middle by another crack of booming thunder; Varaas sensitive ears echoed yet still she heard every bit of it. aTo try and stop a light summer shower is very doable for a druid of my power. To stop a normal thunderstorm is straining it a bit. To try and put the cease to this tempest?a The druid shrugged, and the water ran off the shoulders of his overcoat in drenching sluices.

aI would not allow you to do so in any case,a Vara shouted to make herself heard, and she drew confused looks. aThis weather is murder on convoys, and the roads are nothing but long stretches of mud that will bog them down. For the next day weall be able to ambush a number of them simply by riding up on them in the night where they remain stuck.a aYes,a Vaste agreed, abut we have to be able to see them, else it becomes a fine opportunity for us to stumble into a fight that weare not prepared for.a A shadow appeared in front of them, lit by a flash of lightning; Vara saw it for only a second as the sky illuminated the ground, but it was a wagon, and other shapes were around it, and suddenly an arrow flew past her ear.

aSee?a Vaste called. aLike that.a Vara urged her horse forward, sword in hand, and when the next flash lit the world around, she brought her blade down upon the dark elf she saw before her. By the time of the thunderclap he was already falling, bleeding on his way to the ground. The next flash of lightning followed shortly thereafter, and before her was a field in motion, more soldiers than shead seen before around a convoy; there have to be near five hundred, she thought as she rode on toward a thick cluster of them, and let out her hand, following it with a spell that shot forth into the dark night.

It made a light of its own as it left her palm, and she watched it make contact with three dark elven soldiers, flinging them into the air. A bolt of lightning came from behind her, not above, and she felt the air blister with electricity as it passed. It hit five of the enemy and she could see their shadows jerk with the surge of power, dancing in the oddest fashion before they fell still in the mud.

She rode forward and felt something solid hit her horse, a jarring feel that caused the animal to jerk then start to fall. Oh, dear, was all that had a chance to make it through her mind before she was thrown. Her shoulder hit the mud and all her weight came down on it and then her head, driving her helm and her armor into her soft skin. She heard a crunch upon the impact, and for just a second it felt as though her legs were dangling in the air above her before momentum carried them forward and she felt her back and lower body hit the ground with unmerciful hardness. There was a splash that barely registered, and then shooting pains started from her hips and buttocks, but none worse than the one that raged along her shoulder and neck.

Sweet Goddess of Life. Her lips anchored closed against the cry she felt rising from within. They stabbed my horse with a spear or lance, surely. Damn them. Bloody damn them all to the hells of legend. She tried to move but the pain was suffocating. There was movement all around her, too much to track, and her anguish necessitated she squeeze her eyes closed even as she raised a hand, chanting words under her breath that were as familiar to her as her own name, that had been drilled into her so often that they were rote memory by now, called upon in time of trouble.

The healing spell was minor, at best, compared to the power of the one a healer could call upon. Still, she felt some of the pain subside, the fire in her shoulder was reduced, and she moved it without a scream of agony. She stirred, bringing her sword across the nearest shape to her, a leg in the darkness. She heard a howl of pain when it struck true, and a dark figure began to fall toward her. She rolled left, knocking the legs from underneath the dark elves around her, causing them to teeter. She brought her sword around and made them fall, limbs gushing blood that was not visible in the dark. She pushed them off and got to her feet, looking about as the lightning flashed and the thunder drowned out all the sound of battle that was raging around her.

She stabbed into another dark elf, whose surprise was obvious as his mouth dropped open and exposed the blackness in the gaping back of his mouth. She drew her sword out of him and hit the next, then sensed, rather than saw, someone coming at her from behind. She twirled her open hand and fired the spell that was closer to memory than the healing incantation. It flashed, separate from the lightning, and she watched a surprised face carried through the air where it became pained after the body it was attached to broke upon contact with a wagon.

Vara crouched down then leapt straight up as four enemies came at her all at once. She watched them crash into each other, swords gone awry and striking their own fellows. She landed with both boots hard on the back of two of the survivorsa necks then used her sword to make certain none of them lived. The dark elven escort was visible in flashes, as though someone were taking a candle and holding thick parchment over it, pulling it back and forth rapidly, lighting and unlighting the world.

There was not much to be heard other than the screams, the wet sopping smell of the mud on her armor, the blood already washed away. She leaned into the fight, throwing all her power into each thrust of the sword. She could feel her allies at work somewhere behind her, but for now, she knew, she was on her own and surrounded by enemies. She smiled as she let an attack carry her through. What a marvelous way to spend such an evening. I suppose the God of War would be pleased.

That thought did not chill her near as much as the rain, and with every flash of lightning she took another dark elfas life, or two or more, and though the tempest raged until long after the last of her enemies was dead, in truth it never stopped, not within her, and she wondered if it ever would.

Chapter 75.

Cyrus The dining hall was cleared out, the servants all urged out the door by Odau Genner, who finally lost his temper at the last of them as they stood staring at the body of Aron Longwell, slumped in his seat. aOUT!a Genner shouted, and threw his napkin at the man for good measure. The swinging door closed behind him.

aThis is quite a mess youave thrust us into,a Ewen Ranson said from his place at the table, still sitting at the right hand of the corpse, his head bowed and his hands resting atop his head, fingers pinching tufts of greying hair between them as though the Count were preparing to yank them out. He looked down and to his left, to where Samwen Longwell knelt in front of his fatheras seat, his gauntlets gone and his hands on his fatheras legs, looking up at the slack face with no expression on his own.

aHeas thrust us into?a Genner said from the kitchen door. aHe bloody well killed the King!a Genneras voice was a furious whisper, muted enough to not be heard, but near apoplectic with the red blood filling his face, giving him the look of a tomato with a mustache. aAnd thereas not one of THEMa"a he waved a hand at the door of the kitchen, athat doesnat know it, even if they didnat see the dagger and the blood!a aHe killed the King?a Nyad stood up from her place near the end of the table, a look of flush horror upon her cheeks. aOh, Samwen a what did you do?a aKilled his father,a Aisling said without any sort of concern, daintily cutting away at the duck breast she had purloined from Genneras plate next to her. aWhat did you think we were here to do?a aSpeaking for myself,a Jaanda said, wide-eyed, aI thought we were here to persuade them to enter the wara"you know, to save their homeland. Call it enlightened self-interest, that idea that they may want to get involved.a aYou heard him,a Martaina said from her place across the table from Genneras empty seat. aHe wanted no part of it. The old King was mad. Head watch his Kingdom eaten alive by the scourge sooner than head order his troops to ally with his enemies. There was no other road but this one.a aBut you donat know where this road leads yet,a Count Ranson said, raising his head, hands now clenching the side of his face. aWhat do you expect will happen now?a He threw an accusing hand toward Samwen. aThe boya"excuse me, I still think of him as sucha"he killed the rightful King of Galbadien.a Ransonas eyes darted from the Longwells to Cyrus. aI donat know how you conduct things in Arkaria, but here, that sort of action is treason, murder, and all who would be party to it are conspirators worthy of being hanged.a He closed his eyes and slumped in his seat again. aTo kill oneas own kin is the worst sort of murder.a His hands proceeded to his eyes, and covered them, muffling his next words. aThe most horrid part is, Iam not even certain he was wrong to do what he did.a There hung a stark silence. aDo you know what is coming?a Cyrus asked, but Ranson did not stir. He looked then to Genner, who seemed deflated. aDo you know what is happening in the north right now?a He waited a pause. aWhat do you believea"a aI believe we are about to face the single greatest threat to the land of Luukessia that has ever been seen,a Ransonas head came up and there was a light in his eyes, a fire, athat what comes down those northern plains is the worst doom to ever visit itself upon this land, worse than the breaking of the Kingdoms. I believe that it slides upon us like the death he described,a a finger pointed to Samwen again, aand that if we do nothing, we are not only damned in the eyes of our ancestors for doing nothing, but twice damned because we will see our people blotted out by it and thrice damned as our own eyes are eaten out of our very heads by those things.a aThen would you have stood by and let your liege drop your Kingdom right into the waiting mouths of the scourge?a Cyrus looked at Ranson. Ranson looked back at him accusingly. A sidelong glance at Genner revealed only nervousness, nerves and sadness, expressed on his rounded face through a slightly open mouth as he licked his lips. aWould you?a aWe had not a decided the course to take, yet,a Ranson answered for both of them. Genner was in the background now, Cyrus realized, almost useless, for his part in things.

aYet you knowa"you saw!a"that these things are a blight across the very surface of the land,a Cyrus said. aThey will come whether you act or not, and every day you hesitated in making your decision was another day in which they had free reign to whittle down the numbers of men left to fight them. The time is now, gentlemen.a He looked from Ranson to Genner. aAcknowledge Samwen as the new King, and let us be on about the business of saving your Kingdom from utter ruination.a aIam not certain I want the crown,a Samwen said at last, still huddled by the body of his father.

aThen this was perhaps a poor course of action to pick,a Jaanda said.

aNo,a Longwell said, rising, his cheeks streaked with tears. aMy duty was to save Galbadien. If I had to die to do so, then so be it, I would pay that price and more, willingly. I know full well,a he gestured at Ranson, athat my fatheras successors, regardless of whether it was me or not, would do what is necessary and rally us for war. I could not sit by and allow my realm to fall to the scourge, and yet my father would do exactly that. My course, then, became obvious, when I realized he would die before actinga"a aI can get well past the decision,a Ranson said in a whisper. aAron Longwell is hardly the first King of Galbadien to be displaced by their own blood in such a waya"though we do not condone it! But we must not speak of this any longer, we must keep it confined to this room, let it die here with Aron Longwell.a aYou think you could hide the truth of this?a Cyrus exchanged a look with Aisling, whose eyes flickered amusement. aGood luck. Word is likely already spreading.a aTo seat a King who slew the last, and openly no less,a Genner croaked. aThese are dark days indeed.a aI care not how dark the days grow,a Samwen Longwell said turning to look at Odau Genner, aso long as Galbadien survives to see the dawn.a aWeall arrange it,a Ranson said quickly and tossed a look at Genner. aA quick coronation before we ride north.a Ranson seemed to be thinking it all through quickly, as though it was a plan he had been holding in, waiting to execute. aWhere do we go?a aEnrant Monge,a Cyrus said. aWe rally there; Actaluere is sending for the rest of their armies, and Syloreas is evacuating everything they have south. Enrant Monge will be the site of the battle, and weall have to break them there.a aHow do you know these creatures will come there?a Genner said, softly, almost like a child asking a plaintive question of a parent.

aThey seem to follow life as a moth follows the fire,a Longwell said. aThe Syloreans are running their entire population there, as many of them as can move from the east, from the north. Some of them in the west are moving south, but other than that, theyare rallying there, every able-bodied man.a aThatas a poor place to keep their civilians,a Ranson said, thinking it over. aWhat if you should faila"if we should fail? Theyall need to be moved, south, ahead of the horde.a aThese people are refugees,a Jaanda said, atheyall be hungry, starving. They arenat an army, yet they march on their stomachs. We have spellcasters that can conjure food and drink for them, at least enough to be getting on with. But any evacuation will be slow, and will need to be covered by the army we have.a aI donat mean to suggest weall fail,a Ranson said, aas Iam confident weall succeed, buta"a aOnly a fool doesnat have a fallback plan,a Cyrus said. aAgreed. Weall need to work on it. But weall have a monthas ride to get to Enrant Monge. Hopefully the armies can hold back the tide of the enemy for that long.a He stared at Ranson. aWhen can you send for your armies, start assembling them?a Ranson looked up at him, and a slight smile creased his face. aI sent the orders almost two weeks ago, when it was clear you were coming here. The barons have already begun to assemble west of here at a crossroads town called Callis. Weall be ready to march for Enrant Monge in three days.a Cyrus regarded Ranson carefully. aSo you were going to take action.a aSoon enough,a Ranson agreed. aAnd now, as the King has said,a he nodded to Samwen Longwell, aour course is set.a

Chapter 76.

The coronation was a short-lived and short-noticed affair, attended by few enough of the nobility and fewer still of the castle staff. Ranson did the honors, administering an oath in the long, hollow-spaced throne room as the first light of the next morning streamed down through the high windows.

aDo you swear to give all your life, all your judgment, all your honor, and all your strength to the prosperity of this Kingdom?a Ranson asked, finishing the last in a long series of questions.

aI do,a Samwen Longwell said, and an attendant placed the simple crown of golden leaves strung together by a circlet upon his head.

aLadies and Gentlemen, I give you the King of Galbadien, the Garden Kingdoma"Samwen Longwell the Eighth.a Ranson stepped back, letting the King stand upon the platform by himself. It would have been better in effect, Cyrus supposed, if there had been anyone there besides Ranson, Genner, two attendants, and the Sanctuary party to see it happen.

aNot much pomp for such auspicious circumstances,a Jaanda said once the ceremony was concludeda"which was announced by Odau Genner muttering to himself as he left the throne room, still red-faced and looking to be much out of sorts. aI would have expected more.a aHe killed the last King,a Cyrus said, looking at Longwell, who sat upon the throne with his fingers templed in front of him in a way that evoked a memory of Alaric at the table in the Council Chambers, aand theyare about to send every man they have into a war thatas likely to claim a high number, if not all of them. If they fail, their homeland will fall.a Cyrus cast Jaanda a glance. aIam surprised he got as much pomp as he did; I would have thought it would have been dispensed with in favor of riding out as quickly as possible.a They rode out two days later, down the great man-made hill that Vernadam rested on. It was pleasant enough, Cyrus thought, a fall day back home by the weather, and yet near winter for the calendar. Reikonos must have had their first snow by now. The autumn will have brought storms along the plains near Sanctuary. Yet here I am, in this cool place. He rode quietly down the first switchback, relaxed upon the back of Windrider.

Part of the way down the next curve, Samwen Longwell came alongside him, his crown shining. aHere we go,a he said, no mirth in him, and nearly enough to no life as to be indistinguishable.

aHere we go,a Cyrus agreed. aYouare about to look on your lands as a King for the first time; I would try to put some sort of happy face on for your subjects, considering that with what we are up against, yours will likely be the one that they look to. Whether they take hope or sorrow from your countenance is entirely up to you, my friend, but a King seems more a disposed a to one rather than the other.a Longwell did not answer him for a moment, as if pondering. aYou are right, of course. But how do I a how do I shed this misery that falls on me?a His face contorted as Cyrus watched. aI think of what I did, and I weep for my soul; I am unworthy to stand before my ancestors after death, now. What I have done is the horror of all horrors.a aListen to me,a Cyrus said, and pulled Windrideras reins so he stopped. aWhat you did is save your Kingdom. What you did was make the hardest choice of anyone Iave ever met. He wouldnat step aside, and you knew it. You made a sacrifice that few would have madea"a aYou would have made it,a Longwell said, turning to look straight ahead. aIn my place, I believe you would have done the same.a He flicked his gaze back to Cyrus, as though he were looking for approval. aYou have had the courage to do things I would not have thought possible before.a aThereas a far distance,a Cyrus said, abetween standing on a bridge and knowing youall die and having to sacrifice the person you care for most in the world.a A flash ran through Cyrusas minda"of the Fields of Paxis in the Realm of Death, of the rotting grass, and steps in the distance, of a god as tall as a building, of his threat and the movement of his hand, stirring toward Vara, her head bowed. aI couldnat do what you did. I didnat a do what you did. Thank the gods that you were the man in the place now, Samwen, because you made the choice I couldnat, and hopefully your choice will redeem mine.a They were quiet, then, on the way down the rest of the hill, Longwell seeming to try and reconcile the thoughts head been given. When they reached the bottom, the townsfolk were already turned out, and they saw a monarch who waved at them with pride, with confidence, and not a single hinta"to Cyrusas practiced eye, anyhowa"of any threads of doubt.

Chapter 77.

Vara Day 141 of the Siege of Sanctuary aThe good news is that our plan is working,a Ryin said, his hushed voice still seeming to echo in the quiet Council Chambers. aThe bad news is that our plan is working but not as well as we might have hoped.a Alaric was a still statuea"it might as well have been one in his chair for as little as he moved, Vara thought. His expression was dark, as though carved from stone, and he appeared not only weary but less expressive than usual. aExplain it to us.a Ryin sighed. aIave run sorties from the nearby portals to scout convoys passing through the Plains of Perdamun. Their sentries have finally reached the point in the last week where it is no longer safe to hit them with a raiding party. Iam observing escorts of five hundred to a thousand soldiers marching along with each convoy, larger convoys now than there used to be, and spellcasters intermixed with them. I suspect theyare also using wizards and druids to teleport some of the richer convoys directly, even though thatas likely to tie up considerable amounts of their resources. Our raiding days have come to an end is what Iam telling you.a He looked around the table. aIn addition, there appears to be no appreciable change in the numbers of the horde that surrounds us. All weave managed to do is pull more dark elves into the Plains of Perdamun.a Alaricas eyes flashed back and forth, assimilating this. aVara?a he asked. aHave you heard anything from your sister?a aOnly to echo that the battle lines around Reikonos remain quiet,a Vara said, finding the words most disagreeable. aThe only good news is that the humans are preparing for a major offensive in the coming weeks, after the New Year passes and the Winter Solstice has gone by. Perhaps that will relieve some of the pressure around us?a aI have doubts about that,a Alaric breathed, as though he meant for them not to hear it. aThe line remains unchanged for the elves as well, bottled up behind the River Perda, staring at their foes across the water. The bridges between Termina and Santir remain a aNo Manas Land,a and I have my suspicions that King Danay will not find the courage to change that anytime soon, given his aa Alaric sighed, aa personnel challenges.a aYou mean the fact that any elven soldier killed canat possibly be replaced?a Vaste askeda"with his usual flair for the annoying, Vara thought.

aYes,a Alaric said without a trace of amusement, athat was what I was referring to. Unless Danay finds himself in possession of a rather extreme amount of pluck, I wonder that they will prosecute this war further, putting themselves on the line to dubious purpose for the humans. Vengeance for Termina would seem to be his only motivation for going forward.a aBut if the Confederation and the Kingdom donat work together,a Erith said, shaking her head, ait seems that the Sovereignty will eventually break them both.a aProbably not the elves,a Vara said quietly. aOh, theyall glare at the dark elves across the river, certainly, but now that their army is massed, the Sovereign will have a devil of a time putting his troops across the Perda, and Danay knows that. The rest of Arkaria could well burn, and the Elven Kingdom would be able to sit apart from them, quite safe, all things considered, and simply wait out the war.a aUntil they all grew old and infirm and the Sovereign could simply march over the bridge and take the entire Kingdom without any sort of fight that didnat involve a cane being smacked over someoneas head,a Vaste said.

aYes,a Vara replied acidly. aUntil then. But as that is several thousand years off, I very much doubt that is something we shall have to ponder too deeply in the immediate future.a Alaric was unmoved, again, quiet for a piece. aThe humans wait too long, then. By the time the Sovereign strengthens his grip here, in the Plains of Perdamun, heall have all the supplies he needs to deal a final, crushing blow to Reikonos. Without Reikonos, it seems likely that the Riverlands and Northlands will fragment and argue amongst themselves. At best, they could rally, but they would have a hard time defending against the dark elven onslaught. There are simply too few good spots to mount a defense of the Northlands or Riverlands. If Reikonos falls, so too does the best chance to face the dark elves in a decisive battle that could turn them back.a aExcept here,a Vara said, turning their heads. She shrugged when they looked at her. aA hundred thousand at least surrounding us, another fifty thousand or more spread out around the plains; that is no small host, and its loss or breaking would likely hamper the Sovereignas war efforts.a aOh yes,a Vaste said, ahis mysterious and seemingly unlimited army. How many soldiers does he have, anyway? Anyone?a aAt least one more,a Erith said with a smile. aHe has more than anyone has been able to predict thus far. Who knows how many he has in reserve? One thing I can tell you aa She hesitated. aI probably shouldnat, but since weare all dead anyway if the dark elven army breaks down the gatesa"Saekaj Sovar was an overcrowded mess when I left twenty years ago.a aIam sorry, what?a Ryin blinked at her. aYouare talking about the diaspora? When dark elves began to migrate out of the homeland again, twenty years ago?a aYes,a Erith said. aIt was at capacity, the streets were choked with waste, and the tribunal that ruled in the Sovereignas absence finally approved the opening of the city. People werenat exactly starving, but there was heavy rationing. Thatas why you saw so many dark elves start cropping up at oncea"those of us who were more opportunity-minded wanted to get the hell out, take a chance elsewhere, somewhere that you werenat living twelve people in a room a quarter this size.a She shook her head. aThe average citizens were stacked on top of each other, four and five to a straw bed half the size of this table. Ticks were rampant, fleas. The meat we ate was that of the vekatag and their milk was the drink of choice, and it was old mushrooms baked into bread three times a day most of the time. The noble houses lived fat and had more space, the lower classes scrapped for every damned thing we could lay our hands on.a She shrugged. aIt was nice to get out of there, even nicer when I finally got my own room in the Daringas guildhall. Living here was like a dream.a aAnd the point of that wildly veering narrative?a Vaste asked, feigning a yawn.

Erith favored the troll with a sour look. aThat Saekaj Sovar is huge. Massive. When I left, the population was easily over two million.a She looked around the table in patient expectation.

Ryin was the first to show his reaction. aWell, then that means a oh. Oh, damn.a His head pivoted to Vaste. aIt meansa"a aYes,a Vaste said, aI got it right off. Millions of people means hundreds of thousands of soldiers if need be.a aYes,a Erith said, aand keeping in mind that the Sovereignty is a society where you can live a thousand years and not really feel the strain of age until you are over eight hundreda"a aThey have a larger population of war-ready men to draw from than any other nation.a Ryin looked at Vaste again.

aI said I understood the first time,a Vaste looked back at the druid intently. aWhy do you keep staring at me? I know how dark elves age, probably better than you do.a aIam sorry, I didnat mean to look at you!a Ryin said. aIam just aa his gaze swept the table and found Vara. aDid you know about this?a aNo,a she said, finding herself somewhat hoarse. aNo, but it is hardly a great surprise now, is it? The dark elves have a big army. The sky is blue, water is wet. Theyave paraded countless number of soldiers through the world, are fighting a war on three fronts and they donat seem to be suffering greatly for it.a She tried to shrug from indifference, and found that it wasnat hard to find. aThey have us outmatched. Their enemies are not fighting them at present, largely out of fear. They have us surrounded, and they have thrown a hundred and fifty thousand troops at the bothersome fly we have become to keep us from continuing to bind them down here in the plains.a There was a certain hopelessness that came with her pronouncement, but she wasnat sure she could entirely feel it.

aNone of it is good news,a Alaric said finally. aBut neither is it the worst. We may be outmatched, but they have yet to find a way to reasonably break through our fortifications.a He smiled. aTake heart, friends. We will protect our foyer as we have, we will keep them held off at the wall, keep them at a distance, and we will remain here until the situation changes.a There was only a hint of hope in Alaricas tone, but it was there, Vara could hear it. aIn a battle against the entire world, I still believe that the Sovereign has bitten off more than he can possibly hope to digest.a Alaric steepled his fingers in front of him. Now, let us hope that the rest of the world discovers that exact same truth a before it becomes too late to take advantage of his misstep.a

Chapter 78.

Cyrus The road to Enrant Monge was longer than he remembered, though they traveled at a brisker pace. They went to the west first, crossing under the leaves of trees that still showed their green, meeting up with the armies of Galbadienas barons in the town called Callis, which Cyrus could not remember at all from when last he had been there, and they rode on.

aThere are not so many of them as I hoped for,a Cyrus said, riding next to Count Ranson under a blue, clear sky, on their way out of Callis.

aWe just came out of a war,a Ranson said, aone that was particularly costly to us in terms of lives.a He gestured his head back behind them, where followed some twenty thousand men, half on horseback. aWe have a great many dragoons, though, and we lost few enough in the last battle. Some of the men are long-time veteransa"a aMeaning theyave seen too much combat,a Cyrus added.

aa"and some new blood,a Ranson finished with a raised eyebrow.

aMeaning theyave seen too little.a Ranson sighed. aAye. It would have been more convenient if this scourge had come before we had our little war with Syloreas. Instead, they picked the first time in a decade when both of us were well and truly ground down. Our eastern armies will meet us a bit farther on, the ones we moved to the Actaluere border. That will swell our numbers somewhat.a They rode on. The sun rose and set what felt like a hundred times, but was more probably only thirty. The air turned colder as they hooked north on the road that led past the shores of an enormous lake. Cyrus went to his bedroll with Aisling every night and awoke with her next to him in the morning, putting out of his head all the troubles and worries of the battle ahead. The numbness inside was still there, but he managed it, thinking about it sometimes late at night when she lay against his side, and he listened to her slow, soft breathing.

As the mornings became bitterly cold, the scenery began to change; there came a morning where there was frost on the ground, glittering in the early morning sunrise like diamonds sprinkled in the grasses, and Cyrus could have sworn that he had been there recently. He had, he realized, been this way only months before, with a smaller army at his back.

After so many days of numbing, wearying travel, one arrived where he found himself staring into the distance and staring back at him at the top of a crest was the familiar shape of Enrant Monge. He heard a few whoops from behind him as the men of the Galbadien army let out their pent-up emotion at seeing their destination after a long journey.

aI will not be sorry to be done riding,a Jaanda said, his hand rubbing the outside of his robes just below his back. aThis is quite enough for a while.a aI never get tired of riding,a Aisling said with a lascivious smile toward Cyrus.

He glanced back at her. aYou havenat done that in a long time.a She shrugged, and he thought he caught a hint of disappointment. aBefore I was trying to work to entice you. Now, I scarcely have to entice you at all.a They left the army behind on the flat grounds before the woods, left them to set camp in an open space as Cyrus rode with Longwell and the others into the big, wide gate on the western facing of Enrant Monge. There were Sylorean refugees along every bit of the ride, as there had been for the last few hundred miles of the journey, sunken-eyed beggar folk with weary looks.

aDo you suppose weall finally ride through the Unity gate now?a Longwell asked, and Cyrus watched the new King, who maintained an air of guarded skepticism.

aThis would be the closest weave ever gotten, my King,a Count Ranson answered after a secondas reflection. aPerhaps not as anticipated, in a new Kingdom of Union for all Luukessia, but united in common purpose.a aSeems more genuine than with a monarch at your head,a Cyrus said, aruling through fear.a aThe last Kings of all Luukessia were hardly tyrants,a Ranson said, as though delivering a history lesson to an interested student. aThe Kings of Old Enrant Monge were good men, fair men, who ruled with strength and honor, and who delegated most of their power to the three Grand Dukes. When the last King died and his only son, Lord Garrick, went missing after an expedition, the three Grand Dukes broke with formality, argued among themselves, and each declared himself the new King in turn. They made their protestations, but none would see the other for the true ruler of Luukessia, and so each left Enrant Monge in turn, so furious with the others that they went out through their own gate, to consolidate and hold their own seats of power, and then each raged at the others in turn, in wars, for the next ten thousand years, returning to Enrant Monge and the old guardians of the King of Luukessiaa"the Brothers of the Broken Blade, who remained there to mediate disputes, and to hold the castle against the predations of the the three Kingdoms.a aSo it was your forerunners who were the tyrants,a Cyrus said with a half-smile.

Ranson seemed to take the jest in the spirit it was intended. aNot my forerunners, no.a They galloped through the inner gate. The refugees watched the column and the King of Galbadien with awe as he passed into the courtyard, which had masses of the careworn gathered around its walls, their hungry eyes quieted by the food that members of the Brotherhood of the Broken Blade were dispensing to them from a station in the corner. There were dark clouds overhead, putting the whole of the world in a dim glow. The stones of the castle that had been a shining orange when Cyrus saw them in sunlight were greyed now, the overcast light tingeing them. The smell of sodden hay was even sharper in the crisp air, the smell of the horses potent as they approached the small stables. There were a few boys milling about, caring for the animals, and Cyrus could hear one of the horses whicker as they approached. He gave a reassuring pat as he dismounted, to which Windrider responded with a whinny.

aItas you, malord,a said the boy who rushed out to take the reins of the horse from Cyrus. He was familiar, and it took only a second for Cyrus to realize that it was the same lad who had spoken to him when last head left Enrant Monge. aYouave come back to us again.a aI have,a Cyrus said, feeling the stress in him as he recalled the ladas words when last theyad spoke.

aYouare going to save us,a the boy said, in awe. aYouare going to save Luukessia from them a from those things.a Cyrus didnat answer at first, looking back to see if anyone had heard. The others of his party were met by additional lads from the stable, boys collecting the reins to more than one horse, leading the animals away. Ranson and Longwell stood apart, off to the side, as though trying to make a decision. Jaanda was the only one watching him, listening; Jaanda and perhaps Aisling, though her back was turned and he knew not what she was doing.

aIam going to try,a Cyrus said at last, handing the reins to the boy.

aYouall do it,a the boy said with utmost faith, surprisingly cheerful to Cyrusas ears. The boy favored him with a smile. aYouare him. Youall do it.a Cyrus tried to smile back but failed; a little bitter grimace of half-effort was all he managed. He followed the others as they went, the chill seeping into him. There was a trace of snow here and there as they walked, gathered into near-insubstantial piles on the ground; Cyrus wondered how deep the snow would get here, if it would turn bad at all. He looked north toward the wall of the courtyard, where he knew a gate led to Syloreasas courtyard. How far away are they now?

There was a quiet in the castle as they entered the tower; none of the Brothers were in sight, and Cyrus wondered where the keepers of the castle were. They made their way forward toward the center of the structure, toward the Garden of Serenity. Still, there were no Brethren so they entered the long tunnel to the garden. There were voices within, echoing from the hallway, distorted. Cyrus recalled the listing of names, of accolades shouted by heralds in this very place. Now there was only talk on the other end, low, discontented, and just as bitter to his ears as the wind when it picked up and raced through.

When Cyrus emerged behind Ranson and Longwell, the voices died down, and he could see men huddled around the amphitheater at the center of the Garden of Serenity. He recognized Milos Tiernan immediately then saw Briyce Unger standing in his usual place, his face puckered with a new scar. Brother Grenwald Ivess stood at the west facing of seats, where he had been when last they had met. Eyes swiveled toward the entourage from Galbadien, and Cyrus saw the frown from Unger and the soft dissolve to impartiality on Tiernanas face as they came down.

There were other figures, too, Cyrus realized as they descended into the amphitheater; Curatio and Terian waited in the place where the Galbadien delegation was usually seated. Curatio gave him a half-hearted smile when they began to descend the steps. Cyrus kept his gaze on Terian, though, and the dark knight kept his on Cyrus, their eyes locked as the meeting came to a halt while the new arrivals took their seats.

aWe are well pleased to see you,a Grenwald Ivess said as Cyrus shuffled past Terian. Ranson and Longwell remained standing at the front row, and Curatio stayed forward with them, though he gave a short bow and stepped aside so they could take the center of the bench. Longwell stood there, still in his blued armor, his helm being carried by Odau Genner, who hovered in the second row, his red face glowing in the grey day.

aMay I present the King of Galbadien,a Count Ranson said, drawing a look of surprise from Briyce Unger and Grenwald Ivess. Tiernan, for his part, remained nearly inscrutable, only a small smile making its way from behind his facade.

aYour Majesty,a Grenwald Ivess said with a nod and the slightest bow. aYou have, I fear, run into the middle of our discussion at an inopportune moment, but your arrival will perhaps make it more opportune than it was. You have brought some forces, I take it?a aI have brought everything that Galbadien holds,a Longwell said. aEvery man who can ride with a spear or lance, every man who can stand and fight with sword or shield, and every boy and grey-haired fellow to boot. Whatever Galbadien holds, I have committed to this defensea"to Luukessia.a Briyce Unger straightened, nodding at Longwell. aEvery man I could summon to escape, save for those escorting our women and children south, I have brought here or to the to fight to our north. Syloreas has fallen, but our men fight ona"for Luukessia.a Milos Tiernan gave a sigh. aEvery man I command, from here to the southern seas, I have summoned to me. Every one who has responded is here and is willing to fight to defend this place in the hopes that this scourge will never touch their homes or their families.a He hesitated. aFor Luukessiaa"and for us all.a aWe commit to this fight everything that we have brought with us,a Curatio said, speaking in Cyrusas place. The warrior considered standing and dismissed the thought; to move to the front would expose my back to Terian. Best to let Curatio do the speaking for us, since he is the Eldera"and a better spokesman than I, in any case. aWe have asked for additional aid and should it come, it will be pledged to your cause, to defend your land.a The elf gave a slight nod. aFor Luukessia.a Grenwald Ivess took it all in, and Cyrus had a feeling that the Brother was almost letting it steep like tea leaves in water, allowing the words to run into the ears of all present, to let them take it all in. aThe Brotherhood of the Broken Blade has maintained Enrant Monge as the last vestige of the old world of Luukessia; the days when our Kingdoms were one. We have also kept our presence here to defend this remnant against those who would attack it. We have on the grounds over one thousand knights in our sworn service, volunteers all and well-trained. We commit them to this effort to save our homeland.

aI appreciate the sacrifices that all of you have made to come here,a Ivess said, aand to bring with you all you have. The people of Luukessia are losing their homes, their lands, and their lives at so startling a speed that it is barely fathomable. The men who stand before me are the last hope of this land. You men, who once upon a time vied for yourselves and your Kingdoms, I see now before me united against this common foe. It is well that you think of Luukessia at a time like this, even those of you who have been scarcely touched by this menace as yet.

aLet this be the place where the unity of Luukessia was made final,a Grenwald Ivess said, hitting his stride, his rich baritone echoing in the garden, alet this be the place where ten thousand years of bitterness and enmity were put aside for the good of our people. Let us unite once more in hopes that our combined efforts may stave off this disaster that brews, that sits outside our door even now. Let us gather together, stand togethera"that we may not be divided. That we may not fall.a

Chapter 79.

The day was filled with planning; when night fell, it was almost sweet relief of its own kind. Cyrus woke in the middle of the small hours, Aisling settled in next to him in the quiet, nothing audible in the tower room but her breathing. The smell of the air was stale, and the last taste of the nightas stew was still with him. There was a chill in the room, as it had only a small hearth of its own and the fire had died down. He tossed a log upon it and stirred, feeling the slight weight of the poker in his hand as the ashes came back to life slowly over the next minutes and were roaring again soon enough.

Aisling did not move, and he watched her for a few minutes in the quiet, her white hair catching the orange glow of the fire. She looks so a small, he thought, and wondered about it only until he remembered that she was short, shorter thana"

Cyrusas fingers came to his face, rubbed his eyes, as though he could strike the vision out of them, rub the image of the blond-haired elf from them. It has been near a year since last I saw her. One would think I would be well and truly done with her by now. He looked back to Aisling, who lay under the blankets, her blue skin dull against the grey cloth. I am different. Things are different, now. She told me flatly that it would never work, could never work. He squeezed his bare hand against the cold stone floor, pressed it, felt the smoothness of it. Why is it so hard to be rid of her?

He stewed for only another minute before he stood, quietly dressed and went out the door. He gave a last look at his lover before he left; if she was awake, she had the good grace to say nothing. Another reason sheas vastly superior to a her. Sometimes I just need to be alone with my thoughts.

His steps carried him along the spiral staircase to a lower landing. The lamps were low, dim, and Cyrus saw a glow of color outside a translucent window, something faintly orange and red. He stopped at the landing and stepped toward the door, which he knew led outside, onto the castleas interconnected ramparts.

With a squeak the door opened, and he grimaced at the sound. He shut it back carefully then looked around. The ramparts led in either direction; to his right he knew he could find himself overlooking the Garden of Serenity with only a few twists and turns. To his left, however, was the outer wall, and all that lay beyond. He went left, felt the chill of the night air. He drew his heavy cloak around him, trying to hold in the warmth escaping through the cracks in his armor.

His feet carried him along and he looked up into the sky, where an aurora lit the blackness like a fire of its own. It was a magnificent red and orange glow, shimmering faintly, stronger, like a snake of fire sliding its way across the night. He took a breath and exhaled, watching the air steam in front of him. The sky was clear above, but the wisps of clouds were visible in the distance, lit by the aurora. The smell of the night air drew into his nose, freezing it, giving it the smell of cold, all in itself. How is it that cold has a smell?

His walk took him around the perimeter; there were guards, here and there, and they nodded to him as he passed. He found himself at the east wall and looked out, across the small valley beyond. Lit campfires waited below, the entirety of Galbadienas army laid out before him. Tomorrow they will move north, a half-dayas ride a and a day from now, perhaps two a it will begin.

He let his gauntlet slide along the uneven ramparts, clanking as he dropped it off a crenellation. He followed the curtain wall, though in truth it was all one massive structure. How has this stood for ten thousand years? It is the most magnificent and detailed castle I can recall ever seeinga"other than perhaps Vernadam. He thought, too, of Scylax, high upon a mountain. I wonder what Caenalys must be like? Where she was raiseda"

He let out a small, angry hiss at himself. Can I not be rid of the thoughts of these women? It has been nearly five months since I have seen her, yet she does not leave me be, either a He walked on toward the north, toward tomorrow. We set out tomorrow. We face them on the day after. He felt a chill, more than the cold. Can we best them? He did not press the answer to that question, almost afraid to know it.

Another guard passed with a nod. Their helms were a simpler things that partially covered their faces. Like the Termina Guard, Cyrus thought, and wondered if he should banish that thought as well, for all its unpleasant associations.

There was a figure on the northern rampart, on the wall segment that jutted out allowing archers to cover the north gate in a siege; the armor was familiar even at this distance, though Cyrus had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he had come to within twenty feet and not even realized it. The outline was visible against the aurora above, spikes shadowed behind hues of fiery orange and flaming red. His helm was off, lying on the nearest crenellation, a spiked crown of its own sort, as pointed as the personality of its wearer.

aIam not going to kill you now,a Terian said, turning to Cyrus, his black hair flowing in the wind. The dark elf had an accumulation of stubble that might have been more easily visible on a human. As it was, it gave the dark knight a shadowed look about his jaw and lips. aI gave my word to Curatio that I would not settle my personal grudge with you until this was all over.a aIam trying to decide if I should take comfort in the word of a dark knight,a Cyrus said, his hand already on Praelioras hilt, aespecially one who has already attempted to murder me without warning.a aThere was plenty of warning,a Terian said, turning back to look over the edge of the wall, toward the north, ayou were just so wrapped up in your own petty concerns that you didnat notice it.a aPetty concerns?a Cyrus asked. aLike coming here, winning the Sylorean war, assaulting Green Hill?a Terian chuckled lightly. aAs though you devoted more than a few hours of thought over the course of our months-long journey to any of those things. No, Cyrus, you know very well of what I speaka"Vara, Cattrine, and Aisling. These women that you stumble to, one after the other, hoping theyall pick you up and fill that shallow, empty place in your chest where you used to keep your conviction.a He cast a sidelong glance at Cyrus, who took tentative steps to stand down the wall from him. aThey wonat, you know.a aI hardly think that Iam looking for them to fill some gap in my belief,a Cyrus said, staring at the northern reaches; there were no fires here, just vast, empty woods. There was light in the distance, though, something like a fire, but it was far off.

aTruly?a Terian asked. aIs it possible that the great Cyrus Davidon, that shining light of all virtue, has finally come to the point where all he looks to a woman for is the physical? Because I believe we had a conversation about this some time ago, my frienda"a aI think we stopped being friends when you cursed me and left me to die,a Cyrus said quietly.

There was a pause. aTrue enough,a Terian said, and Cyrus watched him clutch the edge of the wall, and the image of a man clinging to something for life sprang to mind.

aShouldnat you be happy about that, if itas true?a Cyrus asked, flicking his gaze back to the empty lands in front of him. aYou were the one who chided me to ignore the idea of deep feelings or of any kind of resistance to baser appetites. You were the one who wanted me to come to whorehouses with you, to ascratch the itch,a as it were, with any woman freely available. Now that Iave done it, you say Iave lost somethinga"what? You were the one urging me down that path all along; I think it a bit late now to fret about some irrelevant consequence of me doing what you suggested, however unwittingly I might have come to it.a aI never thought you would,a Terian said quietly. aNot in a hundred years, not in a thousand. Cyrus the Unbroken, wallowing about in the filth, fallen from his iconic high?a He turned to gaze directly at Cyrus. aI think I erred in trying to kill you.a Cyrus snorted. aYou erred? You slit the throat of my horse after casting a spell on me that caused immense pain and left me surrounded by enemies. You betrayed a guildmate and a friend who had no idea he had wronged you; yes, Terian, I would say you erred. Badly.a aThatas not quite what I meant,a the dark knight said, a quiet sadness held firm on his face, his pointed nose angling just away from Cyrus. aWhat I meant was a revenge on you might have been a foolish notion, seeing how much youave suffered this last year. Perhaps a more fitting punishment was to let you live in this strange, fallen state of anguish you seem to have gathered to yourself.a aaFallen state of anguisha?a Cyrus repeated. aThatas poetic.a aNo,a the dark knight said, aI mean it. Truly. As a friend, killing you might have been more mercifula"a aYou have a strange notion of mercy, afriend.aa aThink about it,a Terian said, and Cyrus watched him anchor his hands on the wall, holding them there as though he might fall if he didnat. aEverything horrible that could have happened to you this year has just about happened. The woman you loved rejected you in spectacularly brutal fashion. Your mentor and father figure berated you for the first time in your history, you came thousands of miles from home, trying to find some soothing balm for your tortured soul, and instead the woman you started to fall in love with lies to you about who she is and you cast her away over it.a He laughed, but it was a sad, pitying sound. aI could not have orchestrated a worse punishment for you than all that.a aThis is pathetic, even for you,a Cyrus said. aMerely reminding me of the less pleasant turns of events that have occurred this last year is hardly the stuff required to break my spirit, though it brings me no joy. But you might consider adding to your list the moment when one of my sworn and chosen brothers tried to kill me himself.a aThere was that, true,a Terian said. aI could also make mention of your decapitation, or the fact that Alaric has yet to send even an acknowledgment of your pleas for aid, but why? The worst of it,a and Terianas voice dripped with a sort of sad sincerity, athe real torturous prize is not the pain they caused, but the scars they left.a Terian shrugged, as though trying to shake off some unpleasantness or warm up from the chill wind that blew by. aYou donat see it, but youave changed, Cyrus. And not for the better. Youave become a harder, colder sort of person.a aIam becoming you, in other words.a aYes!a Terian said and clinked his gauntlet while snapping his finger and pointing it as Cyrus. aYour soul is calloused, my friend, and all those things that you carried with you into the Realm of Deatha"the illusion of what you were fighting for, the idea of a future with Varaa"you walked out of the gates of Sanctuary on the journey here without any of them. Whoever you were last yeara"when I was your frienda"that man is gone. I donat even recognize the one in front of me anymore.a aYet still youall kill me when this is done?a Cyrus asked.

There was a twist in Terianas face, the hint of something unpleasant as his face stretched, lips pursed, in a sort of pained grimace. aPerhaps. Not until this is over, but a perhaps.a aThen it really doesnat matter how Iave changed, does it?a Cyrus asked, and let his hand drift over the crenellation, let it settle as the first snowflake drifted down by the auroraas light; clouds were moving over now, the red and orange had begun to be covered by tge dark, grey shapes drifting across the sky, threatening to overcome the entirety of it. aIam still the man you want to kill.a aMaybe,a Terian said, and the first flakes came down to rest upon his armor, soft symbols next to the spikes and edges of that which protected him from harm. aBut the other Cyrusa"the one who killed my fathera"I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to see him bleed his righteous life out in front of me, suffer for what head done.a aAnd now?a Cyrus looked at him expectantly. aYou think Iave suffered enough?a aI donat think you have any idea how much youave suffered,a Terian said, turning away from him as the snowfall intensified. aI donat think you have any idea how much you will continue to, as the man you are now. The changes youave made, that have happened to you, this jading, this winnowing of decencya"I donat know how to explain it other than thata"youare an empty man, walking forward with each step following a path laid out long ago.a The dark knight smiled, but there was no mirth in it. aWhat do you even believe in anymore?a He gave Cyrus a ghostly grin across the rampart.

aDuty,a Cyrus said. aLoyalty. To my brethren in Sanctuary. I believe I unleashed this scourge that is costing a great many people their lives, and I aim to correct it.a aAnd what after that?a Terian asked, but his head was bowed and he no longer looked at the warrior. The snow had begun to accumulate now, just a little bit, a faint white dusting, but it came down heavily enough that all the land was cut before him, and Cyrus could see only a hundred feet off the wall at best. aWhat will you do if you fail?a He blinked and turned his head to Cyrus. aWhat will you do if you succeed? Where will you go? What will you fight for?a aIall go home,a Cyrus said, but he didnat feel it, not really, not in the emptiness within. aIall fight whoever next crosses the path of Sanctuarya"just like I always have.a He turned away, brushing the wet snow from his shoulders as he began to make his way back to the tower. aWhat about you, Terian?a he asked as he walked away. aYouare no longer welcome in Sanctuary, unless Alaric finds some measure of deep pity for you. What will you do? Where will you go?a He turned and looked back, but the dark knight was all shadow now, just an outline, a silhouette in the rising frenzy of the snowstorm as it blew around him. aWhat will you fight for?a aThe same thing I have been since the days when I lost all my belief and care, like you have,a Terian answered, the wind muffling him as he spoke. aMyself. And Iall go wherever the road takes me.a He turned away, and the next words were nearly lost to the wind. aIf Iam not much mistaken, it wonat be that long before you do exactly the same.a

Chapter 80.