Chapter 6: Currents
Author's Notes: For my older readers: This is an edited/re-written version of this chapter.
The council met Sarah's declaration with stunned silence. Servants and assistants ceased all activity and watched for their masters' reactions. The councilors sat frozen in calculated silence as they tried to take stock of the new information. No man rose to the council without having cultivated a politician's ability to adapt to situations as they arose. These were veterans at the political game, and each man knew that to play one's hand too soon could be a fatal mistake. Quite literally so, when dealing with Holy Harmonia.
Head Councilor Rean was the first to recover. "Leave us," he commanded, gesturing for his lackeys to depart. The servants and assistants filtered out of the room in single file, all of them watching Sarah while trying their best to appear as if they were not looking at her.
When the last servant closed the door behind him, Rean gestured invitingly at the foot of the table, where an empty chair stood. "Please, have a seat."
Sarah glanced at the cushioned chair at the near end of the table. She could almost smell the reek of fear and desperation from the seat. This would be where the council seated its supplicants and debtors. "I will stand," she replied. Do not presume to treat me like the people whose inconsequential lives you pass judgment over at your table, dictating their lives with the stroke of a pen or the jingle of a coin purse.
"Very well," Rean said, regaining his balance. "What brings you to our humble confederacy, Lady Sarah?"
"I represent Holy Harmonia. I have come to discuss the matter of our alliance," she stated.
The councilors fidgeted in their seats. Evidently this was an awkward subject for discussion, at least out in the open. "Of course. We, ah, never expected an emissary. This is a bit… daring, isn't it? If our alliance were to become a matter of public knowledge…"
"What you tell your people is none of my concern." Sarah walked along the length of the table, forcing the councilors to track her, and those who sat with their backs to her to turn around awkwardly. "There are matters that have to be dealt with forthwith."
"Be that as it may," Rean said, twisting in his seat to face her. "But this is a delicate matter, and our alliance will struggle to gain popular support of it is revealed too early. I would remind you that Harmonia requires the assistance of the council to see this arrangement through. If we were to lose the support of the people…"
Sarah stopped before Rean's chair, too close for the councilor's comfort. "Holy Harmonia," she corrected, "wishes to have the assistance of the confederacy. If your council proves unwilling, or unprepared, to offer such assistance…" She raised an eyebrow in question.
The councilors exchanged worried looks. Rean swallowed hard. "Of course. The council represents the people of the Zexen Confederacy. What Holy Harmonia wishes, we can provide. Rest assured of this, Lady Sarah."
"Splendid. Then allow me to explain to you exactly what Holy Harmonia needs from you." As Sarah began to lay out the details of what Master Luc's plan demanded from the council, Rean and the others listened with equal parts servility and thinly veiled disbelief.
It was, Sarah thought, a measure just how powerful and feared Holy Harmonia was, that these men, princes among their own people, voiced no objection to the demands she made.
Hugo opened his eyes to a gray sky above a canopy of waving branches. It was early morning, and the sun had yet to rise. The rain had stopped sometime during the night. Surprisingly, his clothes felt almost dry.
For a long moment, Hugo did not know where he was. I remember running, and… someone's hands around my throat, choking… Lightning in the sky, a burst of fire, and… Then he turned his head to the side, and saw a familiar face.
Even caked with mud and scraped and bruised by branches and stones, Chris was beautiful. The knight's hair was dirty and disheveled. It was hard to imagine that this was the same woman he'd first seen astride her white horse.
Spirits, we're alive… he thought. Memories came rushing back. The raid on Tarnay, the illusions, the hunters' ambush, the desperate chase, the flight into the woods… and the final, chaotic stand against the last of the hunters. He looked around, and quickly discovered the body of the dead man sprawled out in a bush. He knocked me out, Hugo remembered. I should've been dead. If not for… He eyes turned to Chris again. Saved by an ironhead…
Standing up, Hugo brushed dirt from his clothes. They were dry, he realized. He searched the undergrowth until he found the strange weapon he'd taken from the first man and the satchel he'd carried from Karaya. He sat down to unclasp the satchel and search its contents, making sure everything was still intact. He was relieved to see that the letter had not been destroyed by the damp or crushed in one of his many falls.
As he looked over his belongings, he kept sneaking glances at the sleeping knight. Don't be an idiot, he chided himself. She's an ironhead. She'd cut you down in a heartbeat if she caught you looking at her the wrong way. He knew it was rude to look, but for whatever reason he couldn't help himself.
Patting down his own pockets, Hugo discovered the Hunter Rune he'd taken from the man he'd killed. He held it up and marveled at the colors reflecting in the water crystal. Spirits, it doesn't seem right. I killed a man last night, and yet… I don't feel any different. Shouldn't I feel different? Moving over to the man Chris had killed, searched the man's pockets and came up with another Hunter Rune, along with a bright red Fire Rune. He tumbled the runes in the palm of his hand, eyeing the sleeping knight.
What's that saying Mother likes? 'A man might give his friend a Fire Rune, but only a madman would give it to his enemy.' He stowed the Fire Rune in his deepest pocket, along with one of the Hunter Runes. He regarded the remaining rune. But this…
Kneeling beside Chris, Hugo sought out a pocket in her padded tunic, and slipped the Hunter Rune inside. The knight stirred, and then her body went rigid. Hugo was about to say something when a hand lashed out, trapping his neck. He was pressed down on the ground.
"Explain yourself," Chris said icily, hand crushing down on his windpipe. He tried to wiggle loose, but the knight's hold was practiced and her grip was strong.
"I was just… giving you…" he wheezed.
"My deathblow? Now that we no longer need each other, you would seize the opportunity to dispatch one of the hated ironheads?"
"No…" Panic welled up inside him. She was crushing his windpipe. "You're… hurting me…"
Chris's eyes had been narrow slits, windows into the knight's rage. Now her eyes widened, as if she suddenly remembered something. She released him, and stood up. "Forgive me. I suppose I still do not trust you. I cannot say if your account of what happened at Brass Castle is true or not, but you deserve to be given the benefit of the doubt. You certainly had many opportunities to dispose of me last night."
Hugo got to his feet, clutching his bruised neck. He coughed and sputtered before regaining his composure. "I don't feel too trusting of you right now, either."
"Perhaps that is for the best," Chris said diplomatically. "Our peoples are still formally at war, after all. We should make our way back to Tarnay, and then part ways there. Your friends will be waiting for you, as will my knights."
After the Harmonian emissary left the chamber, Rean slumped back in his seat and sat glaring at the door through which she had left. He imagined the wood withering beneath his gaze, carving his fury into the wooden surface. His high-backed chair, which so often had felt like a throne, now gave him the impression of some torture device to which he had been strapped, hands bound against the armrests as if by manacles.
The council chamber had fallen into a dreary silence. No one wanted to be the first to break it. Small wonder. None of them have any notion as to how to proceed. And neither do I. He knew he would be the first to speak – the others expected it, and it was only right. He was the head councilor. But he was waiting to master his emotions, first. Never speak out of anger. That's the first lesson of politics. I knew that lesson so well, once. As he calmed himself, it occurred to him what had happened over the years. He had grown arrogant. He had grown entitled. I've become used to sycophants. I've forgotten the noble art of bootlicking that elevated me into this position in the first place.
"We should learn from this," he said. The others' eyes snapped to his. They looked drawn, all of them, as if he had stirred them from dark dreams. "Our power may absolute in Zexen, but next to Holy Harmonia, the Zexen Confederacy is but a speck of dust in the dirt. Even the lowliest dignitary from Crystal Valley could order us around like chambermaids."
"What can we do?" Councilor Lekshan wondered. The man sounded scared, and Rean couldn't blame him. But if any man in the council chamber had thought that striking a secret alliance with Harmonia without the knowledge of the people would be simple, they did not deserve their place on the council. This was always going to be difficult.
"We'll do what we've always done," Rean said. "We protect the council. We protect the Confederacy. Gentlemen, we stand upon the tip of a sword, walking along the edge of the blade. One slip, and the razor awaits us. But in the distance, set into the pommel of the sword's hilt, waits the most glorious jewel. We need but pick our path carefully, and that treasure will be ours. We can still turn this to our advantage."
"We have our instructions," Lekshan said, twisting the last word in distaste. "Who can we trust to see this done?"
"Sir Alron," Inek piped up. "I've always found that man to be a pragmatist."
"Yes," Rean said. "And that woman, the one who helped us with the Galahad situation…"
"I believe her name is Jena Farlan," Lekshan muttered.
Rean smiled. "Bring them in. It is time we honored our end of the bargain."
The servants were called back into the room and plans were put into motion. As council business returned to full swing, Rean leaned back and placed his eyes on a large painting that covered half of one entire wall. Vibrant oils on canvas, the painting showed a lonely ship braving a storm-tossed sea. The ship's sails were torn, the mizzenmast had snapped, and waves as tall as buildings slammed across the deck. And yet the ship remained afloat. Rean had seen the painting countless times, but he'd never really appreciated its message until today. Even without sails, one may still reach one's destination.
The high-backed chair was starting to feel a lot more like a throne, again.
Chris and Hugo stumbled out of the forest, and regarded the village that lay before them. Tarnay resembled a warzone. Several houses had burned to the ground during the night, and the blackened timbers of the devastated structures still smoldered. People moved through the wreckage, clearing rubble, searching for belongings, searching for lost ones. The dead were piled in the streets.
This will need answering, Chris thought grimly.
As if reading her mind, Hugo's jaw clenched. "Clansmen did not do this. This I swear."
Chris nodded tiredly. She was not sure what to believe, but she had meant what she said to him this morning. She would give him the benefit of the doubt. "I will speak with Sir Percival and Sir Leo."
They started down the grassy slope that separated the edge of the village from the woods. No one came out to meet them. The people of Tarnay were preoccupied, as were the knights and soldiers tasked with organizing the village's relief. Already the clang of hammers and the rasp of saws filled the air, and smoke rose from fires lit in the village commons. Not enough people alive to dig graves for the dead, Chris thought. Goddess save us.
As they moved among the narrow lanes on the outskirts of the village, no one paid any mind to Chris and Hugo. Small wonder. Chris did not think even her mother would have recognized her in her current state.
The first familiar face she saw was Percival's. The knight stood at an intersction, surrounded by villagers. He wore a look of concern as he listened patiently to the agitated villagers. Two horses were tethered nearby: Percival's own, and Arrow Feather. Chris was relieved to see her mare tossing her mane and nuzzling the grass.
"Sir Percival," Chris called out as they approached, pushing her way through the crowd. The villagers gave way only grudgingly, throwing dirty looks her way.
"Wait your turn, girl," a woman said. "If you want a word, get in line!" a wrinkled old woman yelled, shaking a cane. Percival looked up in surprise, and when he saw her, his eyes brightened.
"Thank the Goddess," he said. "You are safe, milady." Then he spotted Hugo beside her, and a look of confusion passed over his features briefly before he mastered himself. "We've all been so worried. Borus has been inconsolable. I had to restrain him to keep him from running off into the woods to look for you."
Chris smiled. "You should have more faith in your captain."
"Alas," Percival said, grinning, "It is our duty to worry." He looked her over from head to toe and shook his head. "Goddess, but you're a mess."
The people in the crowd whispered amongst themselves, staring and pointing. Slowly it dawned upon them who the strange girl was.
Feeling self-conscious, Chris raked her fingers through her hair, and tried to untangle the knots and remove the pieces of twigs and bark stuck there. She quickly gave up when she realized the size of the task. "Where are the Grasslanders?" she wondered.
Percival looked surprised. "The boy's friends? They were escorted to the capital with the promise of accommodations for the time being. They should be there by now."
Hugo pushed through the crowd. "They're safe?" he asked.
"Of course," Percival said, only mildly offended by the question. "No harm would have come to them. You have my word."
"Thank you," Hugo said. He turned to Chris. "I'll be off, then. I'm going to find my friends."
Chris nodded slowly. She knew they needed to part, she felt somehow sad to see the boy go. "Of course. Goddess keep you, Hugo."
"Spirits protect you, Chris."
She watched him go for a time, until he passed around the corner of a house and disappeared from sight. He turned to look back one last time, hesitating for just a moment as if he had forgotten something, and then he was gone. A part of her wondered if she had done the right thing, letting him go. Had she been fooled?
Percival had been watching, too. After Hugo left, he turned to her with a shrewd look in his eyes, before shrugging and asking, "What happened to you?"
"A great deal," she said, sighing. "Some things I cannot explain, and others I can scarce believe. I will tell the whole story once the knights are gathered. Assemble the others. We shall return to Brass Castle at the earliest convenience."
Percival saluted and went off to find their companions. In the meantime, Chris went to care for Arrow Feather. She stroked the mare's neck affectionately. The horse nuzzled her arm affectionately, asking for scratches. Remembering that she should have some oats on her, Chris rummaged through her pockets. Her fingers closed on something odd – a small, smooth sphere that felt warm to the touch. She dug the object out, and as she held it up to see what it was, she gasped.
A Hunter Rune! But… I never… She frowned at the glowing orb as if the rune itself might answer her question. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "Hugo…" 'I was just giving you…' he said.
She felt like a fool.
Evening was approaching when Hugo crested the last hill, and saw the walls of Vinay stretch across the horizon. The Zexen capital spread out below him, a string of stone walls enclosing too many houses to count, all of them with clay-tiled roofs that shimmered golden in the sunset. Wide streets snaked endlessly down towards the bay and the docks, and beyond that maze of buildings, the sun sank into the sea, casting glittering bands of scarlet and rose-gold across the bay.
The sight took the breath from Hugo's lungs. He'd thought Brass Castle was big. He'd thought Tarnay was crowded. This dwarfed everything. So this is the ironhead city. For a long moment, he was struck by the absurdity of the Grasslanders' task. How could they ever fight this?
Once he'd drank in the sight, Hugo started down the hill towards the city. The walk from Tarnay to Vinay had taken most of the remainder of the day, but he barely felt tired. He could have run if necessary. And as he got closer, he realized he might have to.
The great iron-banded doors had begun to swing shut when Hugo finally made his way to the city gates. "Wait!" he called out. "Don't close the gates!"
"Move your feet, lad," one of the guardsmen called back, waving him on. None of them seemed to take him for a Grasslander. The hunter's cloak hid his features and clothes well. Hugo set off at a sprint, ignoring the exhaustion in his limbs. Spurred on by the cheers and laughter of the ironhead guards, he cleared the gates just ahead of them creaking shut.
Hugo paused to catch his breath, and stared at the city that spread out before him. Several broad streets radiated out from the gates, all of them covered in tightly fitted cobblestones. Some of the streets ran along the walls, while others thrust deeper into the confusing jumble of buildings. Houses sprouted from every surface, in slopes, on terraces, and even stacked on top of each other. Hugo could see no rhyme or reason to it. A person could get lost here and never find his way out. And the spirits were silent. Hugo couldn't feel their presence anywhere. He shivered.
Not knowing what else to do, Hugo found himself drawn downhill, towards the docks, and to what lay beyond. If nothing else, he wanted to see the ocean. Vinay might make no sense to him, but one thing was clear: the city had been built as a gateway between the Grasslands and the ocean. All streets and lanes and alleys seemed to lead down, and wherever he went, even when he got lost down what had seemed like a dead-end, every time he looked through a gap between two houses, or across one of the vibrant gardens that surrounded the larger buildings, he could see the ocean. Slowly but surely, his steps took him down to the docks.
For a long time, he stood at the foot of the long pier that thrust out into the sea, and could barely breathe. The sun had nearly slipped beneath the waves, and the colors of the ocean retreated to an endless dark blue. Waves lapped against the quay, lifting the many small boats along the quay, and rocking even the great sailing ships that lay moored at the pier.
It took him a long time to work up the courage to walk out onto the pier. The planks creaked beneath his feet. His heart pounded, and each step he took, he felt sure would be his last. But then he remembered his warrior's oaths, and somehow he found the strength to keep walking. Finally, he stood at the end of the pier, at the point where the ocean swallowed the land. Shakily he sat down at the edge and let his legs dangle over the water, and watched the waves roll in.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but the sun had set by the time he got up, and the last twilight was leaving the sky. Behind him, the quay and the streets had come alive with the lights of dozens of lanterns.
Gotta find Lulu and the sergeant, he thought. As he made his way back to the quay, Hugo realized he didn't even know where to start. There weren't many people still abroad this late at night, but he quizzed the few people he met. He figured Lulu could've passed for a Zexen kid, but Sergeant Joe was another matter entirely. If people had seen a duck clan warrior wandering the streets of Vinay, they'd remember. Finally, he caught a break when a woman carrying a basket of clean laundry said, "I saw them. Those strange fellows were looking for a place to stay. Reckon I saw them 'round the Flared Peacock."
It took some doing for the woman to give directions Hugo could understand, but once he got it, he set off to find the Flared Peacock. He soon arrived at the door to a sprawling three-story building marked with a signboard that creaked in the wind. Painted upon the signboard were some Zexen words he couldn't read, but Hugo recognized the peculiar indigo-colored bird with a tail of colorful feathers fanning out behind it from the woman's description. The door to the inn was closed, but light and laughter spilled out from the room beyond. Two burly men flanked the door.
As Hugo approached the door, one of the men blocked his way. "The Peacock's at full capacity, lad." The man was head and shoulders taller than Hugo, and built like an ox. His arms were marked with what looked like warrior's tattoos.
"My friends are inside," Hugo said. When the man did not react, he added: "Their names are Lulu and Joe. Just ask and you'll see."
"Sorry, lad. Come back in the morning."
Hugo wasn't about to give up now. "If you'll just let me—" he said, reaching for the door.
Both men made a grab at him. Hugo danced back, and very nearly pulled the dagger from his sheath. Slow, Hugo. Don't do anything stupid.
"Get lost, kid!" one of the men yelled. "Don't show your face 'round here again!"
Hugo threw his arms up. "Fine. I'm leaving."
As he walked away, the men laughed at his back. Hugo's back stiffened, but he kept his cool. There's gotta be another way in. He made his way around the building, and peered down the dark alley. Windows lined the side of the building, three or four to each story. If he could just find out where his friends were… Waiting to make sure no one was watching, he ducked down the alley and looked for a good place to start the climb. At least it wouldn't be much of a fall, this time, he told himself.
Feeling around for the best handholds, he pushed off the ground and started the climb. Slowly, careful not to make any unnecessary sound, he scaled the side of the inn, pausing to look into each window. Most were dark, and he couldn't see a thing inside, but he concentrated on the ones that were still lit up. His friends would want to wait up for him. The thought of a soft bed kept him going. He was tired, and he sorely needed a good night's rest, but the old building's wall didn't present much of a challenge to an experienced climber. He thought about easing the climb with the Wind Rune, but the light of the awakened rune might give him away in the dark.
He had to peer eight or nine windows before he found what he was looking for. Such was his relief when he saw Sergeant Joe pass in front of the window that he nearly cried out his friend's name. Hugo sidled along a ledge, brought himself level with the window, and rapped his knuckles against the glass pane.
Sergeant Joe's face appeared in the window again, peering out. When the duck's eyes adjusted to the dark and saw Hugo, he fell back in shock. Lulu rushed in to fill the void. The boy pointed excitedly and cheered when he saw who was there. He hurried to undo the latch from the inside, and Hugo just barely ducked his head before the window swung open.
"Hugo!" Lulu cried out, a touch louder than necessary. Hugo didn't bother with greetings. He hoisted himself up and over the windowsill, and tumbled into the room. Before he had time to get up, his friends tackled him, and the three went down in a pile on the floor.
"Oh, Hugo, you made it! Thank the spirits!" Lulu was saying. Joe quacked excitedly, adding: "You had us worried, boy."
Someone pounded on the door from the outside. A muffled voice called out from the corridor.
"Let me see what's going on," said Joe. "Best if you weren't seen, Hugo." Agreeing wholeheartedly, Hugo slid beneath one of the room's three beds. Light spilled into the room from the corridor as Joe opened the door. He exchanged a few words with a man whose voice Hugo did not recognize, and then shut the door after the man. Hugo rolled out from under the bed and sat up.
"What did he want?"
Sergeant Joe gave Hugo a blank look. "Wanted to make sure we were alright. Apparently, some miscreant was spotted climbing in through one of this fine establishment's windows."
When they were alone, Lulu and Joe set some of the leftovers from the night's dinner in his hands, and he his friends, from beginning to end, of what had happened in Tarnay and Zexen Forest. When he finished, he was ready to collapse. But as he leaned back on his bed and closed his eyes, sleep was slow to claim him. His mind kept wandering back to Chris. The way her violet eyes seemed to glow with determination or anger. The way her hair fell when she tossed her head. The way she walked, as if nothing could stand in her way.
Strange, he thought, I can't seem to get that woman out of my mind…