Oathkeeper (29 page)

I'm fine. I
—

An alarm went off in the strategist part of her brain.
Always know what your enemy wants from you
, she could hear Kholster saying. Lessons she'd heard even before she was an Eleven.
Analyze their attacks. Learn to know which are feints and which are serious. Do that, and you can guess not only where they will strike next, but why. It is more important to know—not where the current attack originates—but where the next one will be.

“They stopped attacking me once I was back in my room,” Rae'en said under her breath. “They didn't want to kill me. They would have, had I given them opportunity, but—”

Bloodmane
, she started, then stopped herself.

Kholster Rae'en?

How many kholsters are currently under attack?

Checking
, Bloodmane intoned, thoughts still pained.
I have no contact with three kholsters
.

How many Overwatches?

I-It's a lot of them. Twenty at least
.

“All Know,” Rae'en thought and spoke the words. “I'm not sure what the Sri'Zaur think will come of this, or even how they are doing it, but they are after the Overwatches. The Zaur are trying to blind us!”

*

Standing over her Prime Overwatch in the Hall of Healing, Rae'en could not help but smell fear. It clung to the Oathbreaker followers of Sedvinia who attended the single patient, to the human errand runners who ran back and forth to gather herbs and other medicines from the Apothecary or into the marketplace or nearby groves for whatever might be needed. Worst of all, it came from Vander, lying in the utilitarian cot, sweating and shaking.

The ninety-three less specialized soldiers of the One Hundred lined the halls standing two abreast, parting only for those Rae'en or one of her Overwatches warned them might be coming, eyeing even those Oathbreakers and humans with open distrust. Glayne, backed by one thousand fighting Aern, manned the entrance to the building itself, having locked and barred the other three ground-floor entrances.

The blind Overwatch, Glayne, held Long Fang at the ready, twirling the blade and chain in threatening arcs whenever any non-Aern approached. He had only agreed to go that far from Rae'en and Vander when she had allowed him to jam Hush Now and My Love into opposite ends of the hallway outside Vander's room. Back Up let him keep watch from the door post of the room itself as if Amber and Feagus standing back-to-back in the doorway were insufficient.

It ought to be me out there
, Rae'en thought at Glayne.

No, kholster
, he answered.
You are First and given what happened to your father we cannot be sure we could strip and dip you if an assassin's needle slew you. Without you, there can be no All Know or All Recall. Subtract the First and we are only one step from Foresworn.

Four gold tokens lit in Rae'en's view signifying assent. The fifth token was not there at all.

Prince Rivvek
, Varvost sent from his post in the throne room with Bhaeshal, ten Aern, and the assembled elemancer guard of those who had come to observe the Test of Four,
wishes to know if Vander has made any improvement
.

Rae'en began to tell him no (yet again) when Vander moaned, his unbandaged right eye flipping open. Wide orange streaks ran through the black sclera, the jade irises narrow bands around wide amber pupils.

Has anyone ever seen an Aern's eyes look like that?
She asked the four Overwatches and Bloodmane. Gray tokens were her answer.

Vander?
She sent at her uncle.
Vander?
Nothing.

“Hello, lazy.” Rae'en knelt over him, putting a hand on his chest just in case he tried to sit up despite the aged priest of Sedvinia working on the wound half a hand below the center of his chest where one of the assassins had managed to jam one of the long, needle-thin daggers through Vander's inner rib plates. Left eye bandaged, various lacerations dotting his bald head, arms, and chest, Vander had definitely looked better.

He reached up, feeling the edges of the bandage over his eyes, then tried to sit up just as she'd feared he would. Holding him down with less effort than Rae'en had expected it would take, she cooed a series of hushes and said, “It's okay” more than once before settling for sharply shouting his name.

“Vander!”

He froze, his unbandaged right eye seeming to see her for the first time since he'd opened it.

“I can't feel Eyes!” Vander said in a quivering panicked voice.

“It's bandaged for your own good,” the aged healer working on his chest wound began.

“That's not what he meant,” Rae'en growled at the old Oathbreaker. “Bloodmane and the Armored are escorting Eyes of Vengeance to Port Ammond.” Rae'en touched his cheek with her free hand. “He is just as worried about you.”

Vander sagged, relief as palpably evident physically as it was alarming, since Rae'en could not feel it in her head and his token did not reappear in her field of vision.

“Amber?” Vander asked urgently. “She was in the corridor, too. Did they—?”

“Right over here, Prime.” She waved from the doorway. “Scale Fist is good, too.” Amber tapped her temple. “Still connected.”

“Varvost, Glayne, and Feagus are all okay,” Rae'en told him. “You were the only one of the One Hundred who got his scars marred.”

“And you're sure Eyes of Vengeance is all right.” Vander clutched her hand. “You're certain?”

“He has a few wounds on him,” Rae'en answered, “but he can walk and talk. He is cut off from everyone like you are, but you took the worst of the beating. He'll be here as soon as the warsuits can get him here.”

Vander closed his eyes, then his face went slack. Rae'en watched the rise and fall of his chest to be sure he was still breathing before stepping away.

I wish I could reassure him
, Bloodmane thought.
None of us can reach either of them
.

Maybe when we get them close enough to each other
, Rae'en offered. She thought about Kazan, Joose, Arbokk, and M'jynn out there on the road.
Probably somewhere between Castleguard and Oot by now
.

I'm sure they are fine, Rae'en
, Bloodmane told her.

I still wish they'd get their butts up here a little faster
, she thought back,
just so I could keep an eye on them
.

They don't have your father setting the pace, Rae'en,
Bloodmane said.
Should I send a contingent to get them?

No.
Rae'en pictured the look of indignation on their faces if she sent a crew to escort them to her like they couldn't handle themselves.

Kholster Rae'en
, Varvost sent.
Prince Rivvek says he understands completely if you would like him to postpone the Test of Four
.

What?
Rae'en hadn't given it any thought at all since the attack, even though she was still wearing the amour Wylant had given her. Tiny blood-crusted holes marked her injuries from the fight, but she hoped she could repair them eventually.
He is asking about that now?

He says he is willing to delay as long as you like
, Varvost transmitted,
but we have only given him a certain amount of time in which to complete it before we
—

No.
Rae'en began relaying orders to various kholsters and their Overwatches.
I understand. He's right about the timetable. I'm heading there now.

Do we still need to kill them?
Bloodmane thought at her.
I am not refusing, but I wanted to know if Rivvek's coronation
—

Leave it alone, Bloodmane
, Rae'en snapped.
I don't plan to actually declare war on a king with my father's scars on his back unless I have no other choice.

PART THREE

A KING ARISES

“Eldrennai, it is said, do not die; they are killed. Not as resilient as the Aern or the Vael, the Eldrennai live on, untouched (or mostly untouched—for more on this, see my ruminations about Hasimak in volume 11) by the ravages of time to which the majority of Barrone's inhabitants are subject. Maturing rapidly, all Eldrennai are born without physical defect. We may be maimed in life, of course, and we do not regenerate, as do Uled's creations, under our own power.

Time, however, and the appropriate application of healing magic granted us by Sedvinia allow a remarkable range of recovery possibilities for injured or dying Eldrennai. Artificers, like myself, can construct new limbs or organs where divine magicks fail or are withheld. Yet I have never seen a common Eldrennai, one of those who share my race but not my magical affinity, granted full access to the Halls of Healing. It was noticing this at the age of three while touring the halls with my father for likely subjects who possessed magic, but not nobility—and would not, therefore, be missed should he require their assistance—in whole or in part, that I realized the true depths of my father's evil and began plotting to kill him.

I once wondered if that patricidal desire made me evil, too.

It didn't, for I have known love, and true evil can know only desire. As a result, when I first understood what I was feeling for my beloved, where others might have felt unbridled joy, I experienced a profound sense of relief.”

From the preface to
Eldrennai or Aiannai
:
An Examination of the Greatest Fallen Empire
by Sargus

CHAPTER 21

WYLANT'S NEW ARMOR

Cracked and upturned, the terrain of the Broken Table, the mesa at the center of which stood Fort Sunder, made travel on horseback problematic for most. Vax had sensed a few urgent transmissions from Rae'en, but, as an unawakened Aern of unique status, he could only say that it seemed to have been related to the Zaur and if the Aern couldn't handle a few Zaur there was little even she could do to assist them.

Leaving her Sidearms back at Port Ammond meant she could make much better speed. Not having to worry about limiting flight time to minimize elemental foci growth cut the journey in half, even if it did cause the occasional pangs of grief when she remembered how much Mazik had loved that feeling, soaring through even the coldest air at the highest altitudes with an exultant expression he never wore with his feet on the ground.

The ground. Once, before the last Demon War, this had been some of the most beautiful land in the Eldren Plains. Dotted not only with the ever-resilient myr grass but also with blood oak groves where now only dwarf varieties and shrubland remained amidst artificial plateaus, ravines, buttes, cliff ranges, and wide expanses of glass left behind by the combination of elemental bombardment and geomantic attacks. What few rivers remained were shallow, the life within them changed. Fish were still edible perhaps, but with tougher scales, sharper teeth, and the occasional extra eye or spider-like legs.

Natural elemental energies flowed in twisted ribbons and jagged spikes, unpredictable for most Eldrennai (and Aiannai, for that matter), causing elemantic control to become unstable, unpredictable, or fail completely. It worked for Wylant because she had been at the epicenter of the blast that warped the magic here, and it functioned properly for the descendants of Uled and the royal family for reasons Sargus understood far better than she. Few were the Eldrennai who had been spared.

“We should be seeing the crystalline shield soon,” Wylant shouted to Vax over the wind.

You can think to me, Mother.

“I know,” she told him, “but I'm more comfortable this way. Does it bother you?”

No
, Vax thought,
but I'm told my emotions are blunted because I have yet to be properly awakened, so very little bothers me.

“The shield can be beautiful from the air.” Wylant flew higher. “When the suns are both shining through at the right angle, it creates multicolored flashes and circular rainbows. You get the same sort of imagery off of the guardian golems at times, but it's more dramatic off the shield itself.”

Where was the shield? Gliding in lower and lower in case a trick of the light or atmospheric effect obscured the shield from view, Wylant saw Fort Sunder, but no shield.

“What have they done to it?” Wylant muttered.

The shield or Fort Sunder?
Vax asked.

“Both?” The massive edifice of stone had cast a wary watch over the plains for thousands of years, its blue-gray walls made from rocks mined from the quarry at the end of Kevari Pass by the Aern long after Eldrennai has ceased to dig there for fear of the Zaur. Before the shield had gone up, at certain distances, the whole of Fort Sunder had taken on a blue sheen as if it contained no gray at all. Gone now was that azure shade, and in its place she saw walls, battlements, the same buildings and, up the rise, a keep comprised entirely of pearlescent white loomed vast and unknown despite its familiar profile.

Naught remained of the crystal shield or the insectoid golems who had patrolled the site since the warning signs had gone up shortly after the Aern had gone into exile. Still as statues, a mix of Bone Finders and warsuits from—it felt so alien to say general rather than kholster—General Bloodmane's command dotted the walls and grounds, keeping vigil. Moving in closer, she spotted the ground around the fortress, once thick with myr grass, lined now with blue-gray stone spreading out in all directions in a perfect circle of open ground an invader would have to cover.

Up close, Wylant saw the details of the fort and cringed. Skulls, leg, and arm bones, even the plate-like ribs of the Aern had been merged together, as if the entire fortress had been rebuilt with the bone metal of the dead Aern who had been slain when she shattered the Life Forge. How many millions did this represent? She knew the number, had tallied it up once, but after the first million the sum lost its meaning. Endless murder. Attempted genocide. There was no pleasant name for it. And now Fort Sunder, the place she had once called home during the best parts of her pre-exile marriage, was a monument to her greatest glory and deepest shame.