Moonshadows

XX

o0o

Sialen looked down at the bowl of water with frustration. She had been attempting to use her magic to do something about her current predicament. Masters could use their element for scrying, with the proper tools. However, she was barely an Adept despite her tutelage under Mardu Shwato. Cleansing a cup of water was a relatively simple task for her, and after using magic to help her cat, Sialen had found it somewhat easier to use her magic for healing. So when one of the Sisters burned her hand cooking, Sialen had been able to offer relief from the heat of pain.

However, a cup of water or some blisters seemed almost nothing compared to what was going on outside of the abbey. The few times she'd been allowed outside, she'd noticed the change in the streets. No woman was unattended by a man, even women in pairs or threes.

She wondered about the Way of the Light, and if that really was the proper way to living. Surely a deity would not want half of the population to be treated as lesser simply because they were born with a different set of genitals. Where was the logic in that? Of course, if she asked such a thing, she would be told that the Father had a plan and that he worked in mysterious ways.

A return to her old life, and as a wife to Jarin Olmer was a thought so abhorrent she shuddered at every contemplation of it. Her father restored to his position, to make the lives of Coronan women and younger sons even more miserable than before. Why did he not see that this kind of mindset was what had made Corona so weak in the first place? For all its outer strength, the prejudice and resentments of generations had steadily rotted away the foundations of Coronan security, and now King Helin intended to make that rot even more a part of society.

Oh, Kuoji. All too often she thought of him. She'd tried to use the water to locate him, to ensure his safety, but her efforts had come to naught. It could mean he was dead, but it could just as well mean that she simply lacked the experience and skill. Or that Kuoji was hiding under a magical shield.

"Lord Olmer is here to see you," she heard the Reverend Mother say. She swallowed thickly and rose to her feet.

"Mother give you strength," Deborah said as she squeezed Sialen's shoulder. Strength was commonly seen as a masculine trait, but that set of words had become a key phrase between Deborah and her supporters.

Because this was a convent, it was not proper for a woman to be with a man unattended within these walls, even a male relative. She welcomed Deborah's chaperoneship as the other woman sat on a stool in the corner, pulling out some knitting. Lord Olmer stood near the fireplace, looking up when the two entered.

"Greetings, my dear. You are looking well. Deborah, thank you for the attention and care you have given her and the others."

Deborah stared at her cousin grimly. "Many years ago, I made a holy vow to our Heavenly Father. I have followed very closely in the Way, and one of my duties is to ensure that others are tended to with the same care to which I give myself."

Sialen kept her face blank as she listened to the Mother Superior's words. It was part of the cunning performance that Sialen and the Yngsians, along with several of the Coronan nuns, performed under the supervision of their caretaker and guardian. The Yngsian women would on occasion feign hesitation or reluctance, knowing that if all of them suddenly covered back to the Way of the Light, it would arouse suspicion.

So the Yngsian prudence was carefully maintained while the captives gathered their strength. Father Mikhal had offered promising news – an army from White Yngis was closing in from the northeast, and naturally, Governor-General Azami would render aid to her beleaguered nephew and allies.

Father might brag of the considerable army that served the Heavenly Father, but however long the struggle might be, her father and Jarin would be vanquished. In that she was confident.

What she was afraid of was what might happen in the meantime, and what her father or Lord Olmer might do in desperation.

"And you have done admirably. I do not doubt that He smiles upon you, and I am proud to have you as my kinswoman."

Sialen held back an eye roll as she stood there, hands folded neatly in front of her. Though not a nun, she was dressed nearly as modestly as one. However, she could hardly complain since the winter nights were long and the days sharp and cold. She wore a muted blue dress and a pale shift, under a dark gray wool mantle. Her hands were hidden under the generous hems of her sleeves, and her hair was pulled back in a loose, plain braid.

"The Father frowns upon flattery, but kind words are indeed a balm to a hard-working soul," came Deborah's smooth reply.

"I know there is much work to do here, but I intend to see this convent is rewarded for your part in our effort. And I shall have my own reward." Jarin's eyes fixed upon her face, and Sialen stared ahead impassively, determined to give him no satisfaction. He beckoned her forward, and she took several steps, but she stopped just out of reach.

"It is not hard to see why your father's court called you the ice princess. However, I am a Fire Mage, and if I must, I can… burn away some of that rebelliousness." He took a step forward, and Sialen fought every urge to retreat. Jarin would not do anything so bold with Deborah here. No more than slapping her, at least, and she knew how easily these could be managed, at least with a bit of time and rest.

Her father and brother were weak men, relying on physical force and verbal abuse to control the women in their lives, and as a socially accepted norm in Corona, many other men treated their wives and daughters the same. Many generations ago, these traditions had been firmly established, and Sialen knew that it would take time still for many Coronans to completely shake free of that mindset.

That certainly didn't make Jarin any less of an ass, though.

"However, if you submit to me..." his tone became softer and sweeter, "I do believe that you could find satisfaction in being a wife and mother."

"You are only interested in a high-bred broodmare," Sialen replied just as calmly.

She saw him clench his jaw for a moment. The stubble on his face shone red and gold where the light from the fire caught in it. He looked weary if the shadows under his eyes were any indication.

"There is no reason to argue a simple fact," Jarin said with a shrug. "You have the blood of Houses Sol and Fiori, and through them, the other Great Houses of Corona. You are the sole remaining daughter of our King, and you are beautiful and healthy. As if all of that were not prize enough, you are a Mage. Why shouldn't I wish for my children to have the best advantages?"

"You would not be here if your older brothers were not so unlucky," she reminded him.

"When I was given an opportunity, I took it. The Heavenly Father deemed them and their lines unworthy to continue the family name. I do not question his wisdom."

"I am sure you questioned it plenty enough when you were only a fourth son, though."

As the fourth son of a Coronan nobleman, Jarin certainly would have been better off than the surplus offspring of a poor farmer. But not overmuch. The most he could have expected was a plot of land big enough for him to have his own farm, or possibly a small allowance. Such generosity could be rescinded by an elder son after a father's passing.

"The Father works in mysterious ways and tests us through various trials. We only emerge better and stronger, hardened by our sufferings, and wiser for what we have learned."

"Better to learn the lessons of life in more pleasing ways," Sialen quipped. At that, his lips broadened into a smile, and he wiped a loose strand of reddish-gold hair from his face. He was dressed in clothing befitting of a nobleman, albeit one who was dressed more for the hunt or another extended activity, arm-guards visible under the sleeves of his fur-lined coat.

"Honesty is one of the Father's valued traits, and I see that it is one you embrace thoroughly. It is not one I will discourage you from. But my dear princess, do kindly remember that respect is another virtue, and one that a wife must especially keep in mind for her husband."

She regarded him with a frozen smile.

"It's a shame your sister is not still alive. She would have been the better bride of the two, by all accounts. The way you regard me makes that very plain."

"Men claiming to do the Father's work hastened her to her death," she replied coolly.

"So I hear, and the Earthfather lost his tongue and his balls for it."

He chuckled softly before leaning in, whispering so that Deborah could not hear. "I love my country. However, there are things that must change. Our ancestors have given us a flawed interpretation of the Way of the Light. I will bring about a new order that will make Corona even stronger than before."

"Don't you mean my father-"

He cut her off with a small laugh before he leaned back. "Out with the old, in with the new. Look at this as an opportunity, my princess..."

Shut up! Sialen thought furiously. How dare Jarin call her princess, only Kuoji could do that!

"Two old and respectable bloodlines, harkening all the way back to Peregrination's End, finally united. You would have the honor of being the first mother of this new line. Your name would be honored and it would appear next to mine in the history tomes. I know you have no love for your father, imagine your name replacing his in the ancestry records."

The official ancestry chronicles were patrilineal, with very, very, very few exceptions, and such cases were extraordinary for one reason or another. She was silent, and he grinned again. "See, I can be just as honest."

She swallowed thickly.

"And you're not worried I'll tell my father?"

"Do you really think he will believe you?" Jarin challenged smoothly, his bare whisper carrying a heavy edge of menace nonetheless.

I have no love for my father, and he has none for me, either. Father would not believe her, that much was something she could reason out without Jarin directing her attention to it. This bastard was supremely confident. So confident that he had revealed this to her, which filled her with icy dread.

What if he had a substantial reason to be confident? What if there were more Coronans resentful of their new masters than anyone would have guessed? What if the Yngsians and Atyamainese had overestimated the long-term gains of their war?

He must have seen the fear in her expression, for she felt his fingers on her chin.

"Much is said about the Father's rewards to his faithful. I can be generous in my rewards as well. You pride yourself on your intelligence, so I am sure you will see the wisdom in submitting to me."

"I would be lying if what you have said has not given me… much to consider. After all, Kuoji did the same for me, and I did well."

She bit back a grin of triumph at the flicker of shock on his face. Regardless of her pedigree, Coronans would know Jarin Olmer as the man who took the leavings of the prince of the hated Atyamainese. He quickly collected himself as he looked down at her.

"You did do well, but remember that I am a different man than him."

"Believe me, I am well aware of that fact," she replied sweetly. They stared at one another for several moments.

"Mmm. Ice princess you might be, but you have a lovely face nonetheless. I look forward to seeing what other lovely things you are in possession of." His gaze moved downward.

If there was ever a moment in her life to be grateful she was n a convent, it was this.

"Such thoughts are not appropriate for a holy place," Sialen scolded in a louder but nonetheless modulated voice as she took a step backward.

"I am sure the Heavenly Father would forgive the thoughts that a groom has of his bride, regardless of where they might be. After all, passion is one of the gifts that He has bestowed upon us, and it is not as if I seek consummation here," he replied with a small smirk as he crossed his arms. "It is not the wife's place to lecture her husband, anyway."

So different from Kuoji, she could not help but note bitterly.

"There will be none of that sort of talk in the Mother's House," Deborah said as she rose to her feet. "Dear cousin, your nuptials will come in due time. I understand your eagerness, it is as you said, passion is a gift from the Father, but we must also consider the virtue of patience, and observing the rituals."

He seemed about to retort, but he shook his head. "All things in due time, indeed. There is much for me to do, and I have been satisfied that things are going well here, not just for my bride, but for you and everyone else here. I shall take my leave." He offered the two women a bow before the Mother Superior escorted him out.

o0o

"Our information reveals that just as we suspected, Kuoji and Obern are leading the army from the northeast. I have sent agents that way, and we are well-guarded in the south and west by Phaeon's men." Jarin Olmer said as he and Helin sat over a map, Solan watching them, and listening.

Part of Solan wished that his father would just die. He remembered the tyranny of his grandfather, one and a half decades ago. His father had not been much better. Despite his favored position as Crown Prince, Solan was his father's heir – but also servant until Helin passed on. He'd married n his father's command and found his wife so unsuitable that he'd not deigned to lay with her after their wedding night. The news of her pregnancy gave him the excuse to avoid her altogether, so her death in childbed was of little import to him other than the fact that Father would find him another wife, one that would be even blander than the first. Third, actually. But the first had died from a fall from her horse before the wedding day, and the second of the scarlet pox, again before the nuptials. None of the women had particularly appealed to him, but what Father said, went.

Though he didn't recognize it back then, he now understood the angry desperation that drove him to throw himself at Kuoji the first time he saw the bastard as a prince. A Crown Prince, even! His father had bid him attack, so Solan had done just so despite the warning in the back of his head that told him he was outmatched, almost ridiculously so.

And so, instead of being run through with Kuoji's sword and ending his suffering, he'd been put through trial after trial.

Father kept on saying how the Heavenly Father tested his followers and rewarded them. Solan had tolerated his father long enough and he deserved his reward.

"We will lure the two, and form a pincer with these troops, and capture these men who call themselves Lord Paramount and Crown Prince. The Silorns and Tekuras will be forced to pay tribute."

It was a bitter pill for Helin to swallow, but Corona would never be the same again. For the time being, much of Corona would remain in Atyamainese hands. The new era of Corona would begin here, in Goldenvale, which was now for all purposes, the new capitol of the much-diminished country.

They would use their captives as bargaining chips. Even Helin had to concede that they simply did not have enough forces to attack or invade other countries. But the hostages should at the very least secure them Goldenvale, its satellite villages including Thend, and as much of the surrounding land as they could get.

More trials, Solan mused. He closed his eyes for several moments before he opened them again, looking down at the map before focusing on the two men before him.

"What if they refuse, and decide to attack us after the captives are obtained?" Solan asked.

"The Silorns – of which we already have several – are much loved by the Yngsians, and the Tekura would lose face if we killed their crown prince in a cage like a mongrel dog," Jarin said.

Helin did not add any more comment to that, but Solan felt the rebuke in his father's disapproving glare and could practically hear him say 'Such a stupid question'. Solan cast his gaze downward at the map so he would not have to look at his father.

o0o

Rebekah was grateful for the warm body that she shared the blankets with. In the early days of the invasion, when the news of Atyamainese landing upon the shores of northeastern Corona – now Yngis again as it had been two decades ago – it had been a distant threat, the people of Goldenvale confident that this small threat would be handled.

But things quickly escalated as Yngsian troops materialized out of seemingly nowhere to assist these godless invaders. The Yngsians reclaimed their land, but the Atyamainese did not stop there and spilled over the borders of Yngis like ink being poured from a cup.

A small troop of Yngsian messengers rode ahead, declaring that the Yngsian and Atyamainese would show mercy to those who surrendered. Each town or village along the way would decide its fate.

Some fled Goldenvale, but the Smyts remained. Rebekah wanted to flee, but Father was insistent that they maintain their – his – stronghold and hold to their faith in the Heavenly Father. But Rebekah, always an anxious girl, had nightmares about these beings that her people vilified and demonized. She did not want to surrender to these monsters, so she packed her things and slid out of the house one day when presumably on an errand.

She was not the only one who had that in mind, and met several others on the road, forming a small caravan that seemed to benefit everyone within it when it came to protection and resources. However, one of the men she had been traveling with had attempted to rape her and then left her for dead. She wondered if the Heavenly Father had assured her survival.

The news came from the south that Viruch and Dakul had invaded as well, so Rebekah became one of many refugees. However, not one Atyamainese man had taken advantage of her. It was a Coronan man who had hurt her, and when she refused to surrender to him, tried to kill her to cover his crime.

It was by chance that she caught sight of that same man in a village about halfway between the Palace of the Sun and Thend, where the weather was milder and the Atyamainese had not burned down the farms, so there had been food to spare for refugees. She'd been able to support herself by doing laundry for the loose army of Coronan men that had come to assemble here.

She quietly followed her rapist and saw him strike another woman, although there were others with him so she couldn't confront him then. Several nights later, she caught him walking home from the tavern, and slid a knife in his stomach before stabbing him several times in the crotch. He bled out to death in the alley from his groin, which had been an unintended consequence even though she knew that it had been a possibility. Did she feel proud of herself?

No. She hadn't taken pleasure in it, unlike Jasin when he'd played with rats and other animals. Coronan justice did not give a woman much recourse against her attacker, and in these tumultuous times, who would hear her case in court? A young woman who had run away from home, the Holy Book explicitly warned against that and it would have been used against her.

She disappeared from the village and became a camp follower to another troop, and the soft-faced soldier who'd taken her into his tent was a considerably different one from her assailant. He didn't want to be in this war, but he'd been a conscript and would face ostracism at home if he didn't obey. So here he was, and here she was, lonely refugees from a war and from religious beliefs, finding solace in one another.

With great reluctance, she pulled out of bed, shivering before she hastily pulled on the thick woolen mantle that her mother had knit for her several years ago. She wondered if she would ever see home again, or if her father would welcome her back. The past half-year had been a learning experience for her in many ways, good and bad.

She slid out of the tent to fetch water and do other chores, which she and the other women did to earn a bowl of food from the army kitchen. The Holy Book warned against unattended women, but the General had taken another passage from the Holy Book, stating that women must fight for their faith as well as men do, and the women here were assisting the soldiers in their own way, fetching water to the camp, doing laundry, helping forage for food and tending to the cook fires. In this way, the General said, women were contributing to the fight.

These were extraordinary circumstances, he stated, and sometimes it was practical to suspend many of the norms of life. General Phaeon was a reasonable man, and she could say that in confidence having never met him personally. But she'd seen him in camp several times, and listened when he gave speeches to his men or had his words relayed to her by Bortrand, her lover. General Phaeon was stern but a man of even temper unlike his predecessor, according to Bortrand. Bertrand had plenty to say, and she heard much of it during these long winter nights when they kept one another warm.

A return to order seemed lovely, but Rebekah had to admit to herself that she had reservations to things going back just exactly the way they were.

o0o

Father Mikhal was all bows and subservient smiles as he went before King Helin or Lord Olmer. There had been some suspicion about him given how he'd moved around with ease when Goldenvale under Yngsian control, but those who followed the Way of the Light were quick to attest to his devotion to the Heavenly Father. He'd held meetings in houses when the Yngsians were using the church as a military barracks and headquarters. He'd baptized babies and performed several wedding ceremonies.

So when things had turned upside-down again, Mikhal adapted to the change. However, his time with the Yngsians had marked him forever, and in a way he knew would displease the King. He kept his counsel, careful with his words when he advised King Helin or Lord Olmer. Although he did not sit in when they held meetings over affairs of state or war, he was able to glean enough information from them and others to provide Mother Superior Deborah and her charges with a trickle of news.

"You have been the paragon of virtue for our community here," King Helin said. Mikhal inclined his head, glancing over the food that was laid out before him.

"It is the least I can do in the service of the Heavenly Father," Mikhal commented before he cut a slice out of the meat-pie that was set before him. It was accompanied by a dark wine, cheese, and just-heated Coronan peach preserves. He welcomed the sweet warmth on his tongue as he contemplated the snow that danced outside the window.

"We have been through dark days, but the light has begun to shine upon us. There is little doubt that the Heavenly Father finds your actions pleasing, and as the head of the state, it is my pleasure to bestow upon you the position of Earthfather."

Mikhal stilled in shock, the peach heavy on his tongue. He took a sip of wine to wash it down before he looked up at his ruler. The Earthfather was the supreme authority in religious matters, second in power through the land, subservient only to the King himself. The last Earthfather had substantial ties to House Sol, as did many others who had served in this vaunted position. Mikhal was but the son of a poor farmer.

But then, as King Helin said, there had been dark days. He did not doubt that the fact that Corona was now much-reduced was a bitter pill for the King to swallow. King again he might be, it was very unlikely he would ever rule over as much land as he had once called his own. By extension, his own power as Earthfather would be limited. If any of the remaining Great Houses wished to submit one of their own men as a new Earthfather, he had yet to hear of it, and in this city there yet remained several Brothers older or of better lineage than him.

The Father works in mysterious ways. Mikhal sincerely believed in the existence of this deity, but which one was the real one – the tyrant that Helin worshiped, or a kinder deity whose words had been twisted by his mortal followers like Mikhal believed? Either way, he was but a human, and he would act according to what he believed best, not just for himself, but for others. A parade of charges marched through his memory – Coronan, Yngsian, even a couple of Atyamainese.

"That is a most exalted position, and I am but a humble man, your Highness," Mikhal demurred in a display of modesty, his mind racing with the implications.

"Yes, but you have served the Father and the kingdom well, even in difficult times. It shows me that I can trust you."

Mikhal slowly nodded, the enormity of Helin's words heavy on his shoulders. "If the King himself deems that I am fit to be the Father's earthbound representative, I can only have faith in his words."

"Excellent," Helin stated approvingly. "With your hard work, we can ensure that our people follow the proper path and that we grow strong from these tribulations."

"May the Father bless you and may your reign last a thousand years," Mikhal said as he lifted his cup of wine. Helin raised his own.

What god or gods would encourage such foolishness, Mikhal mused. Perhaps the Atyamainese were not in the wrong for having no gods of their own.

o0o

Sana was silent as she observed how pale and pinched Azami looked. The news from Goldenvale had been a shock, and with so much of the Atyamainese army focused on rebuilding and serving as a police force, it had taken some time to muster enough troops to send to Goldenvale.

Lord Starsmore's son had volunteered to lead this army, adding to it a complement of his own men from the Green, along with men from Viruch, which bordered much of the south and western borders of the Green. Through a network of well-placed magicians, it was confirmed that Kuoji was safe, and leading an army from the other side of Goldenvale. What remained of the Kingdom of Corona would be crushed.

Despite Azami's confidence, Sana knew that the Tekura princess worried about her nephew, just as her new charges, the two elder Silorn children, worried about their own family. When Kuoji and his mother had been brought to the Emperor's court a decade ago, Azami was one of the few people Kuoji had easily bonded with as an angry and bitter stranger in a strange land. Having no children of her own, Azami had taken a strong hand in Kuoji's tutelage, helping to develop a Crown Prince that the Tekura clan could be proud of.

"My lady, we have always anticipated that there would be some rebellion, and have prepared ourselves fairly for it. I worry about him, and the others, but you have raised a fine man and he is certain to crush the revolt. Shall I bring you some tea?" she asked. Azami stared at her for a moment before offering her a begrudging smile and nodding.

o0o

Even having braved a decade of Atyamai winters, including a couple of years on Coldhome, the ancient home island of the Toid clan, he still cursed the Yngsian winters. At the very least, many Coronans would not be used to this kind of winter, and Kuoji welcomed any advantage his men might have over Helin's army. That didn't mean he had to enjoy waking up with bis breath turning to mist at the very moment it passed his lips, or the bite of cold air on his ass when he answered the call of nature.

He remained under the protective cover of a pine tree laden with snow, using his Black magic to better conceal the rest of his men, which was helped by the fact that even though most other trees had lost their foliage, the sturdy pines of this region provided excellent cover. It did not offer perfect invisibility, but shadows could be manipulated to make visibility more difficult.

With the support of several other Mages, Kuoji was able to maintain the glamour as they took their position, sighting Obern and Phaeon's men with the aid of a telescope. What sat firmly between them and Goldenvale took the form of King Helin's army. Such a sight would have given him pause if it had not been for their unexpected boon, so he and his men sat and waited calmly as they pretended to be resting and mustering for an attack, almost daring Helin's men to come after them.

Jarim Olmer thought he was so clever with this trap, seeking to lure Kuoji and Obern out with the bait of the Silorn children and Sialen. The prince of the Atyamai smirked to himself with a coldness that rivaled the winterscape around him.

o0o

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