Chapter Five

1545 Hours, 19 Ostermon, 1065 (5th Age of the Empire)

City of High Keep

Tabah Region, Planet Leka, Katami System

'We lost the track somewhere here, at the mountain's base.'

Ather pointed at a rough spot on the map where he and the Order had lost the strange tracks Ene and Zwo had found, right around where half a dozen trails began to lead up into Krag Peak, each of which eventually connected to half a dozen more trails themselves that spread across the whole mountain range.

Assuming his foe hadn't just carried on, they could be anywhere within a hundred square miles of terrain littered with caves, gullies, ravines and thick, untamed forests. Finding them would be next to impossible, even with a full garrison of troops.

Next to him, Emperor Orlon frowned at the news and studied the myriad of maps covering the dark oak table. He placed a finger on Rivercross and another where Ather had indicated, judging the distance between them.

'That's close to thirty miles,' he said after a moment. 'Hard to cover on foot without being seen. Did you find any camps?'

'No, sir,' Ather said. 'This person, whoever they were, made no stops that we could determine.'

'They must have,' Orlon said. 'Even the best horse needs rest at some point. They must have stopped to make camp at some point, even if only for a short while.'

'None that I or my Order could see,' Ather said. 'And we checked on the return leg as well, to make doubly sure. There was nothing.'

'Impossible,' Orlon said.

'I only report what I find, sir,' Ather said.

Both were in the emperor's summer home within High Keep, on a balcony that overlooked the Empire's capital and provided a direct view of the Imperial Palace as it rose up from the ground. The early-afternoon sun was bathing it in a resplendent glow that would fill the heart of any citizen with pride. The ruling family had changed countless times since the founding of the Empire but High Keep had remained the uncontested seat of power, a symbol of the Empire's might.

With them was a trio of maids standing ready to fulfil any request made of them, food or drinks, and the seven girls of the Order who sat to one side and kept themselves busy, mostly by indulging in the vast library Orlon kept at his home. It far outstripped anything anyone else might have access to and covered almost every known topic, a fact Hannya was all too willing to exploit.

She usually took moments like this to continue the education of the younger members, particularly Megumi and Efla. Ene and Zwo were close by and listening too, striking mirror perfect poses.

'Impossible,' Orlon said again.

His hand drifted to two rolls of parchment Ather had brough in with him, both containing sketches Efla had done. The first was of a boot print taken from the spot the twins had found another of the brass cylinders, and the second was of the tracks they had discovered leading away from it. Neither looked at all familiar to either man, or anyone that had been shown the pair.

'And this,' Orlon said, gesturing at the sketch. 'A track narrower than any wagon or cart, with a wheel design that makes no sense. This group grows more strange with each passing discovery!'

He threw his hands up into the air in exasperation then motioned for one of the maids to fetch him a drink.

'Wine,' he said. 'And for my guest.'

The maid ducked her head and hurried off to the nearby store, emerging a few minutes later with a chilled carafe of wine and two goblets. She poured equal measures into both and offered them to Ather and Orlon, bowing and backing away with due deference to them.

'To push their horses for thirty miles or more without break,' Orlon said. 'What savages these people must be.'

'And yet be so advanced,' Ather said. His hand went into his pocket, where the brass casing from Rivercross was. So far, no blacksmith could recreate this feat of precision casting twice in a row, much less twenty times or more as these people obviously had.

Orlon drained his goblet in one go and held it out for a refill without even looking, the same maid from filling it before stepping back. This one he drank more slowly, eyes flickering over the map of the Empire as his mind worked at the problem of just where this new group might be. Next to him Ather was doing the same, and had been since he first lost the tracks.

Three days of weather and other traffic eventually eroded the tracks to the point of nothing, hampering his efforts in tracking them. Had he lost them anywhere but near the foot of Krag Peak he might have carried on down the road further, but there were just too many options for this sole person to go within easy reach.

North into the mountains, west towards the plains, or south to the hills? Each had points in their favour, and against, making choosing the correct spot to search a near impossibility. If Ather had to choose, personally, he would opt for the mountains. Their narrow tracks and trails made assaulting a position that much harder, whilst any number of old mines, forts and natural formations provided adequate shelter for even a modest sized fighting force.

But, mountainous terrain was difficult for horses to navigate and doubly so if they were hauling carriages and wagons. That left the plains, which were devoid of proper cover or sources of water, and the hills, which were populated densely enough that moving across them brought the very real risk of being seen.

'Have any of the captures shown similar behaviour?' Ather asked.

'No,' Orlon said. 'They act like sheep, cowed and unable or unwilling to put up resistance. What defiance they do show comes about when their bare flesh is exposed, or when their modesty is stripped away.'

'Curious,' Ather said.

'What is so curious?' a new voice called out.

Ather and Orlon looked up to see the emperor's wife, Mella, come striding in through the balcony's glass doors. The maids and the Order quickly dropped to a knee in deference to her arrival but Mella ignored them all, fixing her gaze on the men by the table.

'Lord Ather,' Mella said before he could respond to her question. 'I wasn't expecting to see you here. And, I see you have brought your harem with you.'

Her tone as she said this was disdainful and full of contempt as she finally deigned to look at Saria and the others, not even bothering to hide her feelings towards them. It wasn't that she disapproved of the idea of Ather being able to have a different girl warm his bed each night, far from it. Most members of the Empire's nobility had their own collection of paramours and mistresses due to how few of their marriages and unions were done purely for romantic attraction.

Political manoeuvring and strengthening alliances were the norm amongst them, so it was an accepted practice amongst them that they could turn to others to fulfil their physical and emotional needs. Accepted, but only so long as it was kept out of public view. This was part of why Mella held such a dim view of the Order, as it was an open secret amongst the citizens of the Empire that Ather was sleeping with them all on a rotating basis.

The other part was that all seven girls were orphans raised by the Church of the Silent God, and thus had no known noble blood in their veins. Mella believed that nobility should only mix with other nobility, and this was reflected in her rumoured pool of paramours. All were stated to be dukes and lords of high standing within society, and in stark contrast to what her husband believed.

Orlon had professed several times to Ather as they drank of his lustful thoughts for women of all standings in life, be they rich or poor, so long as he found them attractive in some way. No end of poor girls and women had found employment as maids and servants in both his personal home and the Imperial Palace. More than a few had then given birth to children sporting no small resemblance to the Emperor.

'Your Highness,' Ather said, giving Mella only a small tip of his head.

'What is so curious?' Mella said again.

'The difference in behaviour,' Ather said. 'between the captives we took and that of this new group, presumably here to rescue them. Those we took have proven themselves to be meek and modest, but this second group are much more vicious. The sole member who struck at Rivercross a week ago pushed his horses far beyond what can be expected of them.'

'Perhaps the difference between that of a civilian and a soldier?' Mella said.

'No soldier would abuse a steed so,' Orlon said. 'This group strikes me more as barbarians.'

'Barbarians who destroy a bridge in the middle of the night, then strike out at but a single target?' Mella said. 'They sound awfully concerned at limiting collateral damage against our civilian population for barbarians.'

'As I stated earlier,' Ather said. 'Curious.'

'Indeed.' Mella offered a soft hum and walked to the balcony's edge, to stare out at High Keep. 'Are you any closer to finding this group?'

'No,' Ather said. 'We lost their trail around the base of Krag Peak. They could be anywhere.'

'And do you feel confident in your ability to defeat them?' Mella said.

'Of course,' Orlon said. 'No foe that has stood against the Empire remains to this day. When we find them, we shall defeat them.'

'I wish I could share in your confidence,' Mella said.

Her tone grew sharp as she span around and placed a finger on the woods that sat on the edge of the Western Plains, where thirty veteran soldiers of the Empire's army had died without claiming a single victory.

'Three files of experienced troops here, dead at the hands of what you say is a single opponent. Then here, in Rivercross, a bridge destroyed and the town's commander struck down.' Her finger trailed towards the town in question. 'And I have just received word they struck New Bridge, damaging it to the point of destruction.'

Now her finger jumped south to New Bridge, built two-hundred years ago to span the River Olt and connect the rest of the Empire with a region rich in precious metals such as copper, silver and gold, plus the more practical iron. Without the bridge, the time needed to get materials to and from those mines would almost quadruple.

'When did that happen?' Orlon gasped.

'Two days ago,' Mella said. 'Word has only just reached the capital and the details are not yet fully confirmed, but New Bridge may well be a complete loss.'

'From Rivercross to New Bridge in a week,' Orlon said. 'Not an impossibility by horse, but the terrain there is very harsh on them. Do these barbarians not care for their mounts?'

'That is not the issue to worry on,' Mella said. 'Obviously our foe has capabilities beyond anything we have thought possible. Perhaps we should consider the possibility victory over them will not be easy, or come at all.'

'You think we might lose?' Orlon said.

'I think we should consider it,' Mella said. 'If not that, then a truce or ceasefire. Obviously, these barbarians as you call them are here for their missing number. Who knows what further damage they can inflict upon us should this conflict escalate.

'Forty citizens of the Empire had already died by their hand. Would you want to see that number increase tenfold or a hundredfold for less than two-hundred slaves?'

'I would see it increase a thousandfold if needs be,' Orlon said. 'This is a matter of principle. That first group invaded and settled on our sovereign land without provocation, and this second group could have come to the capital to make reparations for their release, but no. They have chosen to engage in war against us.

'I am simply responding to their aggressions.'

Mella narrowed her eyes at him then turned to Ather, saying, 'And what do you think? Are you in agreement that our only option is to wage a war against a foe we cannot locate?'

'Cannot locate and have not located are two different things,' Ather said. 'I would need to see for myself how large this opponent is to say for sure, but given the small scale of their attacks against us I can only speculate they are small in number, and not able to fight a prolonged engagement against a numerically superior foe. The odds favour us.'

His answer made Mella sigh in exasperation and she left without another word. Ather looked to Orlon who shook his head, anger on his face.

'To suggest our troops would fail in battle,' he said. 'Unbelievable.'

'Caution is never unnecessary in combat,' Ather said. 'Is the enemy retreating or leading you into a trap? Is that engagement on your left flank a diversion or the main assault? We lose nothing by planning for every scenario.'

'I agree,' Orlon said. 'But defeat?'

'In war, there must always be a loser,' Ather said. 'Even if it might be us.'

Orlon grunted by way of response and drained his goblet, returning to look intently at the map. Their foe had covered plenty of ground over the past eleven days, all without once being seen by the citizens who lived there. Could they be travelling solely at night? A possibility but a slim one, given how they were entering summer with its long day and short nights. So many questions with few answers.

'I'd like to speak with one of the captives,' Ather said. 'They must know who is coming to their rescue.'

'Do it,' Orlon said. 'Lord Kella purchased one if I recall and he is still in the city.'

1900 Hours, 19 Ostermon, 1065 (5th Age of the Empire)

City of High Keep

Tabah Region, Planet Leka, Katami System

The sun was drawing ever closer to the horizon by the time Ather arrived at Kella's home, a grand affair with three storeys above ground and two below, plus an expansive garden containing a body of water big enough to swim in, with Efla and Zwo accompanying him. He strode past the wrought iron gates up to the front door and used the knocker to announce his presence.

A few minutes later the door swung open to reveal one of Kella's staff, a butler in his fifties, who bowed deeply on recognising who it was that had come to visit.

'Lord Ather, it is an honour,' the butler said. 'Please, follow me.'

The butler stepped to one side to allow the three guests access then led them to the manor's drawing room, a stunning view of the setting sun visible through the southwest facing windows. Ather perched himself on one of the seats and Efla and Zwo followed suit, sitting either side of him as they settled in to wait for Kella.

It wasn't a long wait as soon he entered the room, a smile on his face, and all three rose to greet him.

'How are you doing?' Kella said as he and Ather shook hands. 'It's been what, three months since we last spoke?'

'Closer to four,' Ather said. 'We almost crossed paths two months ago, at the auction.'

'Why didn't we?' Kella said.

'I ended up not going,' Ather said. 'Why would I need one?'

'Ah, yes,' Kella said. His eyes flicked to the girls standing behind Ather. 'Miss Efla, Miss Zwo. Lovely to see you again, as always.'

'The pleasure is ours, Lord Kella,' Zwo said, curtsying. 'Your home is very beautiful.'

'Thank you for saying,' Kella said.

Efla kept quiet and said nothing, but curtsied as well. Outside of Ather and the other girls of the Order, she tended to act very shy and reserved when dealing with people and spoke as little as possible. It was part of the reason why she tended to draw, Ather thought, because she preferred to observe others rather than interact.

'Now, what brings you to my home at so late an hour?' Kella said. 'Not that you stopping by isn't reason enough.'

'It concerns the slave you bought,' Ather said. 'We need to speak with her.'

His tone shifted from jovial to business-like in an instant, his expression changing too, and Kella quickly grasped what this conversation was about. Word had spread across the Empire that Rivercross had been attacked, and so too was the news that New Bridge was gone.

'Her Lekian isn't great,' Kella said as he led everyone to the slave's quarters, a plain room tucked away at the back of the house. 'She's starting to understand basic commands and the like. I think her name is Nigh-Oh-Mee. Beyond that, I wouldn't expect any great conversation from her.'

'I'll keep my questions short, then,' Ather said.

Kella nodded as he reached the door and drew back the heavy iron bar keeping it locked, a simple mechanism that was impossible to open from the other side as the door fit flush with the frame. Beyond it was a sparsely furnished room barely twelve feet to a side, a small bed in one corner on which sat Nigh-Oh-Mee who had drawn back against the wall on hearing the latch of her door move.

For a brief moment fear flickered across her face at seeing Kella come in, thinking his visit was to satiate his physical needs, but it quickly shifted to confusion at seeing Ather follow him in, and on catching sight of Efla and Zwo. Both were still dressed in their armour and carrying their weapons, steel shortswords, though Ather couldn't be sure it was their attire or their age that threw Nigh-Oh-Mee.

She babbled something in her native tongue that went past Ather's head but he imagined it was a question of sorts. Behind him Efla and Zwo both peered at Nigh-Oh-Mee with morbid curiosity, then retreated back a little in apprehension. She was dressed plainly in a simple cotton outfit, cheap to make and easy to remove in a hurry, which was a step up from what other people in her situation had to wear who often got little more than dirty, tattered rags to cover their bodies.

Like them, though, a leather collar was locked around her neck to signal her status as a slave.

Ather felt Efla gently grasp the back of his cloak as she looked on at Nigh-Oh-Mee, and he sensed Zwo take half a step closer to him as well. Their apprehension came about because looking at Nigh-Oh-Mee reminded them that had the Church not taken them in, this might well have been their fate. If not as a legally owned slave like Nigh-Oh-Mee, then as an illegal one in any number of brothels and whorehouses that littered the frontier regions of the Empire. The conditions in those were dire and the life expectancy accordingly low.

'I have questions,' Ather said, slowly. 'Do you understand me?'

'Yes,' Nigh-Oh-Mee said, her tongue struggling over the unfamiliar words. 'I speak small.'

Her eyes flickered to Kella as he stood off to one side, watching her carefully.

'What is this?' Ather said. He pulled out one of the brass cylinders and walked over, holding it up for all to see.

Nigh-Oh-Mee's eyes widened when she saw it, telling all present she did indeed know what it was.

'What is this?' Ather repeated when she said nothing, snapping his fingers to get her attention.

'Bull-It,' Nigh-Oh-Mee said, or at least that was what it sounded like to Ather. It was one of her own words, that much was certain, and Ather tried it out a few times.

'A Bull-It,' he said. 'Okay. And these?'

He traded the Bull-It for Efla's sketches and showed them to Nigh-Oh-Mee, starting with the strange track design. It belonged to a Mond-Guce-Ay-Tee-Vee, whatever that was, and her Lekian wasn't good enough to describe it beyond the name. At the very least it was their word for wagon or cart, maybe carriage.

But when she saw the sketch of the boot, tears began spilling for her eyes and she clutched the parchment tightly, shaking it with something akin to glee or happiness that nobody else could understand. As far as they knew it was just a sketching of a boot, a particularly large one at that, but to Nigh-Oh-Mee it was the most beautiful drawing ever.

All they could get out of her after that was a single word: Spor-Ten.

2037 Hours, 19 Ostermon, 1065 (5th Age of the Empire)

City of High Keep

Tabah Region, Planet Leka, Katami System

'I wonder what it is,' Efla said. 'A Spor-Ten.'

'I know exactly what it is,' Zwo said. 'It's a boot. Duh!'

They were leaving the manor after trying, and failing, to get anything more from Nigh-Oh-Mee following her breakdown over seeing the sketch, Kella insisting they have at least a drink before saying goodbye, and the question all three had was exactly what Efla had spoken aloud just now. Or, it would have been. The brandy Kella had given out was a little too strong for the girls and they were feeling its effects despite having only a single glass, their cheeks rosy with colour.

'Shut up,' Efla muttered.

Zwo giggled and skipped ahead a few steps, making up some nonsensical song that included the words she had learned from Nigh-Oh-Mee as she went. As she did Efla reached up and took hold of Ather's left hand as they walked, chewing her lip. It was a look Ather recognised as her worried face.

'What's wrong, Efla?' he said.

'You won't let us end up like her, will you?' Efla said. 'Like Nigh-Oh-Mee?'

'Of course not,' Ather said. 'I would rather die than see that happen to you.'

'You promise?'

'I promise.'

Efla nodded her head and stopped chewing her lip, but a few minutes later her expression changed again, this time to a lidded look as she started stumbling over her own feet, and weaving to and fro despite keeping hold of Ather's hand. The brandy was obviously hitting her harder than it was Zwo, a given that she was the smallest member of the Order and seldom drank alcohol.

'Can you make it back home?' Ather asked.

'Yes,' Efla said but her response was subdued, and she was just staring blankly ahead.

A moment later she yawned and used her free hand to rub her eyes. Ather didn't even wait to ask her if she was sure before scooping Efla up with his left arm, tucking her against his chest like he would any small child. She didn't even resist and was sound asleep almost instantly, prompting an unhappy cry from Zwo when she saw.

'Hey, no fair!' she said. 'I want to be carried like that, too!'

Ather put a finger to his lips to quieten her, gesturing at the sleeping Efla, which Zwo did but she pouted and crossed both arms across her chest. She stopped skipping and fell into step beside Ather whilst maintaining her glum expression, only for it to brighten slightly when he placed a hand on her head and used it to gently draw her in.

They walked like that the rest of the way back home.