"The catacombs? Really, brother?" Solaris' voice echoed slightly as she stared down the shaft of a well that had apparently never actually been a well. "I haven't even made any announcements for you to avoid."
"Investigating something," Kir called back up, "We'll meet you by the garden entrance!"
"I look forward to it," Solaris replied, tone amused. Anur wasn't sure if they should take offense at that, or at least mock-offense. Not every story they told ended up in some amusing scenario, just most of them. Especially the ones they told to Solaris.
He made it a point of pride to bring up one amusing story per meeting. Their Son of Sun was too serious by half some days, and her other advisors weren't doing much to alleviate it. It was better now, with most of the reforms announced and her rule so far successful and spanning two High Holy Days, but still not ideal.
Judging by her widening smile when they emerged from the garden entrance to the catacombs – one of the more maintained ones, since it was so visible – he had a head start on his usual goal of one laugh per meeting. "Is that a miniature double-headed axe?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "What on earth was that doing down there?"
"I don't know, but it wasn't attached to any of the important graves and Kir checked it for magic – entirely unenchanted. I think I'll give it to Mara, once Axeli checks it for soundness," Anur mused, the small battle axe – shaft only as barely as long as his forearm, blades a bare handspan wide edge-to-edge, it truly was miniature – resting on his shoulder.
Solaris laughed outright at Kir's appalled look and Anur checked that off mentally, Aelius sighing in his mind, saying fondly, :Really Chosen?:
"Mara is seven," Kir said slowly, "Seven. In what world do you live, that a battle-axe is appropriate for a seven year old?"
"She'll grow into it!" Anur protested, "Besides, it's adorable and good for threatening people! Just like Mara!"
Kir stared at him flatly and Anur just smiled in return. He'd initially said it as a joke, but now that he thought about it he didn't know who else he'd give a miniature battle-axe too. Mara was the only person who might prefer or need a weapon this size at some point in her life. Besides, it was an axe! Conceivably, she could use it to chop wood at the very least.
"I wash my hands of this. When your sister finds out about this gift, I will say honestly that I told you it was a bad idea," Kir said finally, turning back to Solaris, "Apologies for being late for our meeting, Sister."
"You're not, quite. I just heard reports of ghosts in the catacombs again and Kari informed me it was probably you before I called for Ulrich," Solaris assured him, "Walk the gardens with me?"
"Of course, Sister," Kir murmured, falling into step on her right with Anur strolling slightly behind and between them. Conceivably, he could defend both of them from this position. In reality, he'd go for Kir, every time. Hansa would have Solaris as his priority, after all.
"Two companies of mercenaries – mixed foot and cavalry – have agreed to the terms," Solaris informed them, "We're waiting to hear back from the other two, but they're probably waiting to see how we treat the first ones. It will take them until autumn to arrive – I could use your help getting the generals to come to some sort of agreement as to which two regions we need to make a priority."
"We can manage that – the last of the critical reassignments for officers went out some moons ago and we need to review how that worked out, make sure there won't be more changes necessary. I can bring it up then – and we won't let them leave until they come to some agreement," Kir said, tone distinctly dry at the end. "Hunger will motivate them to come to a decision, if nothing else. Pirates are worrisome and have been getting bolder, and the Oakrichs have had problems with mountain raiders as well as the usual hill bandits from what I recall. They're also close enough to Hardorn that moving them there will be a matter of a week, should it come to that before the other companies arrive."
"Get a majority to agree with you and consider it done," Solaris said tiredly, "I truly want these negotiations to be over. Its one thing to know atrocities were committed and it's entirely another to handwrite apologies to the mere handful of survivors. Seras has been Vkandis-sent with that, at least then I can provide some sort of intentional closure. He has ceased that policing though?"
"Self-enforced halt," Anur provided, "Slipped a little too far some years ago and hasn't trusted his own judgement since."
"He knows enough to say that and stop," Solaris sighed, "So very few do."
"What languages should we start hunting for?" Kir changed the subject after a few moments silence, "Trade tongue, of course, but most of us speak that, any others?"
"Ruvanese has been the language of correspondence for both, Jkathan and Sarjan for the other two," Solaris grimaced, "I searched for some to help me with that but everyone has written knowledge, little speak the languages. At least in Sunhame."
"Send out a call," Anur suggested, "Notify everyone that mercenaries will be coming and ask for volunteers to be interpreters. Might be best to not only have priests, for that matter, maybe priest and civilian teams? Since the priesthood is really the source of those atrocities you've been apologizing for."
"Good suggestion," Kir seconded, "Merchants are more likely to have a working understanding of those languages anyway, or guardsmen or farmers near the border even. Offer comparable pay to the Sunsguard and we'll get second sons and even some daughters applying for the chance – for those that don't need the pay, offer a cut on their tithe offering for the year."
"Much more of an incentive to merchants, and easier to arrange than actual pay on our end," Solaris murmured, clearly making a mental note to throw that idea at someone else to chase before changing the topic, "The ward along the Hardornen border is holding? No backlash from it?"
"Haven't had a chance to approach the northern comrades and see if there were any witnesses," Kir replied, "But other than that loose end, everything seems to be going well. Tristan and Henrik have reported no renewed taint near the fatlands, and we were going to check the Morningrays to dead-zone stretch on our return to the 62nd since Jaina skipped that swath of border."
"It also gives you an excuse to leave a few days early," Solaris pointed out dryly, "Is Sunhame still so horrifying to you?"
"I don't care for cities – for crowds, Solaris. No matter what changes about Sunhame, it will always be that," Kir reminded her, "I'm afraid nothing you can do will make Sunhame any more appealing to either of us."
"I don't know, the next big one might make things worse for a bit," Anur pointed out, Kir grimacing at the reminder of the other big revolutionary concept they were going to be in the middle of. Solaris hummed in agreement, stopping to examine a grove of fruit trees.
"We'll need to start preparing for that – but not soon. Let's get past Midwinter first. That will give us time to see how things are settling and seriously consider the matter," Solaris suggested, starting to walk the garden paths again.
"We'll bring our dictionary," Anur said, "Though I have to wonder if any of those caches of warded and hidden away books the archivists keep stumbling across have anything along those lines."
"Have to be truly ancient in that case," Solaris mused, "But not unfeasible. Kir, you're more familiar with the archives than I, even now."
"Not to the extent of hidden caches, from what Ulrich and Seras have said, most of them are little whispers passed down from mentor to student, of hidden books and secret knowledge, either hoarded for power or hoarded to save them from a ruler's whim," Kir shook his head, "There might be something in the Hall's records – Seras hasn't had time to thoroughly examine those walls just yet. We'll check on it before we leave or at least set Etrius on it."
"The historian-acolyte?" Solaris asked, a pleased smile on her face, "He must be almost ready to be ordained."
"Nearly – I think Seras and he are putting it off until his arms skills are sufficient. He's also still a little too jumpy around sudden flames for me to want him pursuing the trials just yet. A year at the most, though. He'll be thrilled to have full access to the archives," Kir said, tone turning wry and Anur chuckled.
"I don't think he'll sleep the first month after he's ordained, trying to read everything he couldn't get access too just yet," Anur said, Solaris sharing the laugh. She'd never formally met Etrius or Rodri, and Maltin she'd only had that brief passing moment when he was switching quarters, but asked after all of them frequently. It was only a matter of time before she met Rodri at the least, Anur was certain. With Kir and he in Sunhame so seldom, Rodri hardly let them out of his sight for the weeks they were around.
But she liked to hear about their Order's students – about their Order's future, and he couldn't blame her. These were the people she was going to have to trust her legacy to, when the Sunlord called her home, and hearing stories about them, getting to know them even by proxy, was valuable. Also, given the three they were talking about, more than passingly entertaining.
"There really aren't many texts he doesn't have access to right now, at least within the Hall," Kir shook his head, "The majority of the restrictions based on ordination are for the relic and ritual rooms and it doesn't sound like he has much interest in that. It won't take him a month to get through the books he'll only then be able to access. As it is, I'm planning on going through and removing the restrictions on some."
"Why?" Solaris asked, Anur waiting for the answer just as curiously. This was the first he'd heard about it – hells this was the first time he'd gotten confirmation that there really were things that only ordained priests could access within the Hall, and he half-wondered if he counted.
"The only reason they were hidden away for ordained priests alone was because they referred to priests using witch-powers – not calling them as such, they were 'priestly attributes' or 'signs of the faith', but they were pretty clearly not magecraft," Kir explained, "Some others had political disagreements with the Son of Sun at the time and were probably hidden away to keep students from thinking it was acceptable to question authority, and others were locked up because the knowledge was considered too dangerous – necromancy and the like – those are the only ones I might leave locked to acolytes and initiates," he finished.
"So how do you know about them?" Anur asked, "I thought you were ordained and pretty much immediately sent out to the 62nd."
"Fairly immediately, but I was ordained in the winter right before the Conclave, immediately upon passing my trial," Kir replied, a wry smile on his face, "So I didn't leave until after the snows had cleared, and had to keep my head down in the Hall besides. I didn't have much to do besides find all the information that was now available to me. Practicing my flames was too suspect for me to devote all time to them."
"The trials," Solaris mused aloud, cutting Kir a glance before asking archly, "I don't suppose I'm allowed to know what these trials consist of?"
"You don't?" Kir asked, nonplussed. The three of them stopped in the middle of the path and Solaris turned to Kir fully, raising an eyebrow as she said, "No. I don't. I was under the impression they were some great secret to add to the mystique of the Order, that your people had to undergo further trials to advance, rather than be promoted by your superiors as in other subsets of the priesthood."
"Promotion by superiors wouldn't work, there have been at least three times in history where there has been a month or two with no First Order Firestarter available – the trials are an independent method, so no matter how small our numbers become, promotions and advancements can still occur," Kir denied, shaking his head and looking bemused, "I had no idea they were considered such a great mystery – they're common knowledge to Firestarters. There aren't many details spread around, but the basic gist is. Has to be – they require preparation."
"So then why isn't it common knowledge?" Anur jumped in, "In the priesthood as a whole, I mean."
"The First Order trial is traditionally – it is considered too difficult to explain in full," Kir spread his hands helplessly, "I believe also that it was kept under wraps to allow our fellows to underestimate us, or at least to leave us be. That might be the origin of all of it – the secrecy at least – an effort to keep our Order separate from the rest of the priesthood. With us required to police the priesthood rigorously – it would be helpful, to have something further setting us apart."
"Forcing additional trials also allows people to think that the trials have something to do with your worthiness to judge others in the Sunlord's name, as your original calling detailed," Solaris mused, letting her eyes drift around the empty garden. Undoubtedly it had been cleared so she could stroll the paths undisturbed, or at least chat with them undisturbed. One day people would think nothing of her walking among them in the District, Anur was sure that was her eventual goal, but that day was a long way off.
"There's nothing in particular to that effect," Kir shrugged, "Mostly it's all about control of fire, whatever method you choose. There are some nice rites and rituals to go along with them, of course, but the primary testing is in control and manipulation of flames, upping in difficulty and length as you advance. The Third Order test – it is the most ritualized, and the only one that allows for easy witnessing. It is traditional for Firestarter acolytes to invite their non-Firestarter colleagues to that, though I don't know that the tradition has been used in decades, if not centuries."
"Well then, I'll have to swing an invitation out of Etrius," Solaris decided, taking a seat on a nearby bench and waving them to join her. "Though I would have you tell me the trial you passed, Kir. You went straight to the First Order trial? Did you even perform the other two?"
"No, I never did – well, I did, myself, just to see that I could. But I never performed them in front of witnesses or other Firestarters as some official trial proceedings," Kir explained, settling beside her while Anur took a bench across from them, stretching his legs out to rest near Kir's, miniature axe lying beside him.
"There's a room in the sublevels of the Hall that serves as a repository," Kir said after a few moments to gather his thoughts, Hansa settling at Solaris' feet, blue eyes also locked on Kir. Apparently the Cat didn't know about this either, and that made Anur feel slightly better about the whole unintentional secrecy, strangely enough.
"For – for centuries, for as long as the Hall has stood, that room has been a central basis for the wards and enchantments embedded into the very foundation. Every few years, it's traditional for the First Order Firestarters, or the Incendiary alone, to renew those protections. Jaina did that last year so we're not due for a while," he said as an aside to Anur, which was good, because Anur was going to need some more time to brace himself for whatever that rite ended up being.
"Essentially it stores fire," Kir spread his hands helplessly, "Fire in all its forms and shapes – fire crafted by every Incendiary, every Firestarter, to pass through those doors, to succeed or to die. You dedicate yourself to the Sunlord and to the work of Ari during a Descending service, walk into that room and must survive to the dawn. It is – different, for every survivor. Some walk out lightly singed and beaming, some limp out scarred and snarled, some – some are nothing but ash burnt to vapor. Most are nothing but ash burnt to vapor. The passing rate is very low. Even though people need to be approved, in these past centuries it became a way to – eliminate those who were problematic. You'd encourage them to go for First Order Firestarter, persuade the elders to approve their petition and they'd die in flame, and in turn make the test that much more powerful for the ones to follow."
"You were expected to die," Solaris said, voice tight with a fury Anur knew in his bones, because it seared through him every time he thought about this test Kir had been thrown to.
"By most, yes," Kir agreed, "Not by Verius. Not by Jaina. But the others? Perhaps Seras took Verius at his word when he suggested I go straight for those trials, assured them that I was capable. But most of the Order was under the impression that I had so sorely insulted Phyrrus that I could not remain part of the Order if it was to remain secure, and that this was a way to dispose of me in a way that didn't require an explanation outside of the Order. Our trials are known to be fatal."
"But then you walked out," Anur said fiercely, a grin on his face as he imagined the faces when those bastards had realized that their political problem, their unfortunately wasted prodigy, had lived, and walked out beaming.
Because Kir loved fire. To spend a whole night with nothing but flame, no observation, no pressures, no screams? To be surrounded by crackling red and orange and gold light that would kill him with no malice, with no thought, just because that's what fire was?
Suns, Kir had sounded wistful when he'd explained it that first time.
"But then I walked out," Kir agreed, a fond smile on his face, undoubtedly having some idea as to what Anur was grinning about – he wasn't shielding those mental images after all. "And all their ideas of conveniently sweeping me aside had to be reworked because now there was someone more solid than ash to get rid of. So I was exiled to the 62nd."
"For which I'm forever grateful," Anur said honestly, Solaris smiling and agreeing. Their eyes met when Kir looked away from them and Anur knew that in this, he and Her Most Holy were in perfect accord. Anyone who tried to kill Kir again was going to wish they'd been tossed into the First Order trial by the time they were through with them.
***===***pagebreak***===***
The badlands were near impassible in the summer, but with a year-round oasis and some breezes from snow-capped peaks, the still unnamed oasis-town was not unbearable. The unofficial name of "Anika's Oasis" would probably wait until she had either grown into her own legend more or until she had moved on entirely, if it was ever going to become permanent. It made for an excellent stopping point on their journey to the border, and not only for resupply.
"It's decaying faster than anticipated," Kir informed the young woman standing next to him, Anika Brersi raising an eyebrow as she tilted her wide-brimmed hat back, "It should be entirely cleared by Midwinter if things continue."
"Father Loshern and I have been conducting cleansing services on alternating Solsdays," she informed him, "Would that have accelerated things?"
"Certainly," Kir agreed, "Not quite this much, I wouldn't think – the taint was deep, but definitely a part of it. It is good to see. Heartening."
"Your Order's border wards might have contributed," she offered, "We were all in the new temple but there were fresh scorch marks in the soil around the runes."
"I wouldn't be surprised," Kir replied, "We based that ward on this type of circle. Turning it into a line rather than a sealed loop was… challenging."
"But worth it. Do you think Fredrick has stopped watching your Enforcer like he's going to turn into a rampaging demon and rip his throat out?"
"Probably not."
:Definitely not,: Aelius reported, laughing.
"What on earth happened between you all to leave such an impression?" she asked, a bemused smile on her face as they started walking back to the temple, where Anur had been left with a warily terrified Fredrick Loshern for company, answering every question Anur could think of regarding exorcists and wards on the catacombs.
"Fredrick has, apparently, had bad experiences with the Sunsguard. Anur and I met him when he had cornered some of our men and was threatening them with mage-lightning, accusing them of robbing food from the sick."
"Oh no," Anika muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"They were delivering food to the sick and their caretakers, and were on their way to make their last delivery," Kir continued dryly, "We happened upon the scene and Anur reacted… violently."
"And you did not?" Anika scoffed, "Father, Jakyr has told me very thoroughly what you are capable of when provoked, as if I didn't know already. I find it hard to believe Enforcer Bellamy was the only one in a towering rage."
"Oh I was furious," Kir agreed, offering the woman a sharp smile, "But flashing steel is much more noticeable than burning someone's heart to ash in their chest. His standard role in our questioning only reinforced that wariness."
By the satisfied gleam in her eye, Anika understood very well what he was implying he could do, and she was pleased to know it. Vkandis-bless she would have made a magnificent Firestarter. Knowing she was well on her way to being a lay-exorcist would just have to do. Getting some flame-blessed steel in her hands would probably be a good next step – he'd have to check with Axeli about forge times and Jakyr for preferred weapons.
She wasn't going to be formally ordained, after all. Some gift to mark her standing as Sun-blessed soul would only be appropriate.
"Which is why you left him to ask all the questions you both have, knowing Fredrick will be more worried about a loose-cannon Enforcer sinking a knife in his ribs than in tailoring his answers to his audience," Anika rolled her eyes, "Here I thought I would be able to convince him that you two are both sane and honored members of the Brotherhood of Vkandis – you want him to think you both half-mad."
"I am a Firestarter of the First Order, half-mad is part of the job description," Kir replied dryly, the young woman laughing aloud at the response.
This was the first time they had the chance to see the oasis town, to actually speak with Anika Brersi directly, and Kir was so very pleased with what they had found. Fredrick Loshern being sent out to monitor the cleansing and regain the people's faith in the priesthood had been a stroke of brilliance on Solaris' part, because no matter their personal history with the man, he had a truly holy calling and that undoubtedly showed. For that matter, their own personal history would only serve to show people that the priesthood was as plagued with internal strife and conflict as any other order, and that even though Solaris was in power and changing things, that very human part of the priesthood was not going to be lost.
Also, with Kir and Anur's own reputation in the town, it was a chance for Loshern to reconsider their first impressions. That chance had been lost though, Anur found it too entertaining to keep the man guessing. For a man trained to be an impartial bringer of the crown's justice he could hold quite the grudge.
Even more important than that though, was Anika Brersi herself. Somehow Kir had found himself to be the one to play a major role in restoring her faith in the priesthood on two separate occasions, and even then he had known that it was wavering on a knife's edge. She had been terribly hurt, her trust abused, and he hadn't known that a few examples of what the priesthood could and should be would be enough. But on seeing her now, speaking with her on the town's recovery, her own training with Loshern, with Jakyr, he could see even more clearly the core of steel she had used to drag herself up again.
Working with her was an honor and a pleasure, and she was a woman that histories would sing about. He still thought it was a cursed shame she wasn't a Firestarter, need for lay-heroes aside.
"Sister Jaina, she is the only other First Order Firestarter?" Anika asked, curiosity clear, "Fredrick mentioned he was friends with a Firestarter, Kavrick – he came through after the Midsummer mentioned he had met you and your Enforcer before but he never said much else about it."
"From what I understood he and Kavrick were yearmates and managed to remain acquaintances and even friends despite Kavrick's induction into the Order," Kir shrugged, "Apparently my asking Fredrick to investigate what happened to my reports of blood-magic on the border got them back in touch. They seem good friends now."
"Oh they're quite close," Anika agreed, lips twitching and Kir cut her a glance and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose at her amused expression.
"Fantastic. Exactly what I needed to hear," Kir muttered, "At least that explains why they kept their acquaintance under wraps in the old regime. I get to deal with romantic drama how… how wonderful."
"Welcome to the same world as everyone else, Incendiary," Anika said dryly, "Your Enforcer is the type to ride off with a grin and no false promises, it's only fair that someone in your Order has something more committed for you to worry about."
"If either of them die it's going to be terrible," Kir groaned.
"The fact that death is your first concern rather than some other broken-heartedness speaks a lot to your Order's choices," Anika pointed out, tone growing concerned, "Is that so likely?"
"The Firestarting Order is going to have to serve as something of a first line of defense," Kir said tiredly, "There are only eleven of us, Seras is truly old at this point, no one aside from Colbern and Tristan has more than the most basic of arms-training, and I'm the only one to have slain any of witach's brood or a blood-mage. Aside from us and a few in the Sunsguard, no one in the priesthood is truly considering Hardorn a threat, and I fear it's going to take an invasion to get them to see sense. And to turn it back – to turn it back, unless we are immensely fortunate, quite a few are going to die, and some of them will be mine."
"Border people will be next," Anika said quietly, staring north to Hardorn with a bleak expression. "Some of the men have started arms training again, Jakyr offers tips and sparring practice whenever he rides through, but it won't be enough, will it?"
"No, if Hardorn's forces make it this far and the guard can't reach you in time – it won't be enough," Kir confirmed, "I am sorry."
"You are given these burdens because the One God crafted your soul to bear them," Anika quoted tiredly, voice dropping to a near whisper as she asked, "Is it terrible, to sometimes wish that my soul had been crafted with a little less care?"
"Not at all," Kir murmured in response, bleak meditations that had haunted him his whole life – ever since he was snatched as a child, watching his hopes burn to ash – allowing him to speak honestly, "I have wished much the same, some days."
They shared an easy silence as they walked up the steps to the temple, both taking some comfort in the fact that another of their faith had held similar doubts, had voiced similar wishes, on their darker days, but had nonetheless continued on to bear those burdens they wanted to lay down.
Anika Brersi had no need to be a Firestarter. She was already magnificent.
***===***pagebreak***===***
Kir ducked under a knife thrown by no hand and lashed out with a curl of red-orange flame – the lowest temperature he could manage and keep in a cohesive shape. His knives screamed against Anur's sword as the steel slid across, knowing his own face had the same near maniacal grin that was fixed on Anur's. They sparred in Sunhame, of course they did, they had to set an example for the Firestarters. They even sparred with the other Firestarters, though not at the same time – Kir wanted to remain on hand in case any flames went too close to Anur.
But none of that was quite the same.
Boots tugged around his feet and he barred his teeth, wrenching back as quickly as he could and circling before diving in again, knocking aside the arrows honing in on him. Anur without his Fetching was handicapped in the extreme, and while they'd gotten some members of the 62nd up to sparring with him while flying blades and diverted arrows – and, one memorable incident, a bucket of water – were weapons Kir was still the only one to truly hold his own.
Given, if either of them were truly trying to kill each other this wasn't the way they'd go about it. But it kept both of them in practice and being truly honest, it was fun in a way sparring without their gifts, actually fighting for their lives with their gifts, never could be.
Greich had also worked it into his schedule for breaking in their new arrivals, and while they didn't have many, there had been a few fresh faces this past transfer season and they couldn't disappoint. Especially with Henri around to provide a sympathetic priestly ear. The fact that he'd begun requisitioning prodka to pass to the men that approached him with a commiserating, "You'll need this," had only made Kir approve Solaris' choice all the more. He fit in very well, and his apparent gift for archery had only sealed it.
"Time!" Greich's voice cut through their clash and both immediately backed off. When they'd first started this they'd fight until someone yielded, but it had quickly become infeasible – they knew each other too well. There was a very good reason they continued sparring with the men of the 62nd, given, minus their flames and fetching most of the time, but it was still valuable.
For one, Kir's flames in truly close-quarters scrambles weren't feasible sometimes. Not if he didn't want to risk burning his allies.
So they had compromised, Sergeant Greich or one of the other witnesses would call time when they'd hit a mark or someone else needed the area they were monopolizing with hazards like flying swords and occasional bursts of flame, whichever came first. By the small crowd that had gathered, this was one of the latter scenarios.
"Apologies for monopolizing the ring," Kir offered, but Nakel, leading sword drills today it seemed, simply scoffed.
"Watching you two spar is educationally terrifying," the officer replied, "It's good for them. My thanks, Sergeant."
"Just as well," Anur said blithely, sheathing his blades and idly waving his hand, the other weapons scattered in the ring rising at his bidding and heading for their places, "I was about to – "
A high scream echoed in Kir's mind and he locked his knees to keep himself from collapsing, a grim focus building up old shields to heights he'd left by the wayside since Anur and Aelius had come to his mind, lunging for a collapsing Anur. Catching the Herald by the shoulders, he steadied his brother and recognized the fury burning in brown eyes, a snarl twisting Anur's features as he growled, "Lenora. Those bastards have Lenora."
"Father? Herald? What is it?" Greich interrupted, appearing next to them with a scowl, Nakel close behind, face grimly focused.
"Herald Lenora has been captured by Ancar's forces on the border, and is being dragged to the blood-mages controlling them," Kir relayed, unsure exactly where that precise knowledge was coming from but feeling it burning in his mind nonetheless. "There are not enough Valdemaran forces in the area to risk a rescue."
"And if we add fifty blue uniforms and the two of you to that?" Nakel said sharply, "What then? Everyone here has a Valdemaran guard uniform roughly their size, Captain Ulrich arranged that swap long ago."
"Then there's a chance," Kir said bluntly, "Not much of one. But a chance."
"Sergeant, inform the Captain. Father, Herald – I'll leave you to inform the Valdemarans as you see fit," Nakel spun on his heel and started barking orders, men darting about at his command. Kir didn't wait to see which orders were being carried out when and raced after Anur and the sergeant.
Lenora didn't have time to waste.
***===***pagebreak***===***
The only time Harevis had run this fast was when they had raced for their eastern border the first time, obscure warnings and a dire foreboding driving them through all cares. Griffon couldn't bring himself to exult in the speed as he had that first time, not anymore. Ancar had drained the joy out of so many parts of his life. First this speed, then his Gift – some days it seemed all he was good for was burning the lives and hopes out of doomed enemies or failing to defend his friends.
It was that sense of failure that spurred him on now, heading for Captain Naomi Mecal's bandit hunting camp. Bandits waited for no wars, and hers was one of those few companies near the border whose main targets still were raiders and brigands rather than Hardornen farmer-soldiers. It was the only way he could see this working, because Lenora had been taken. She had gone scouting across the border – stupid, they had known it was stupid, but they were trying more desparate things every day with Ancar constantly flinging tiny little stupid worthless scouting parties against them and not even caring because it hurt them. Every one of the soldiers Valdemar lost was a friend, a comrade, left family behind that would weep and despair, left another little chink in their morale. Every soldier Ancar lost was of less concern to that monster than a crumb swept off the table.
He had laughed, scoffed, when Dinesh had told him Ancar would never stop coming, would throw people at Valdemar until they drowned in blood, ignoring the pity in those grey eyes. What he would give to turn back the clock to that moment, to take that warning seriously and beg every scrap of knowledge on blood-magic, on human-shaped monsters, that the priest held.
Soldiers set against Hardorn had been ordered to leave her, to count her lost, and while they ground their teeth and despaired at losing a Herald, all of them knew, everyone knew that people sent after her were as good as dead, were signing their own doom, and would only give Ancar's cursed blood-mages further power. Would die screaming with every ounce of power drained from them, if they were so unlucky as to be captured.
But those orders might not have made it to Mecal yet.
Those orders would never make it to Karse.
Maybe you exist, he thought desperately to a god he'd been raised to see as a leader of monsters, as an inspirer of terrors and burning flames, feeling the summer sun beating on his back, feeling the tightness and heat as his face started to burn, Please exist. Please care. Please please please.
