Terry Simpson - The Shadowbearer

A slow, deep breath resonated within Kaden’s faceplate. “She attempted the impossible.”

Stefan frowned then opened his eyes wide. “She attempted to Forge all three elements at once?”

“I’m afraid so.” Kaden shook his head. “Shin Rotesa was as young and strong as she was imprudent. She let the task of saving these men overcome her sense of limitation. When the essences took her, she was too weak to resist.”

Stefan recognized the pain in the man’s voice. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He paused. “I don’t want to seem crude, but in ways this helps us. I can send an eagle to the King informing him of the issue. With Mater this unstable, he should understand. It will give you some time, at least a week. Please do your best to make sure the Shin recover.”

“As you wish, sir.” Kaden wheeled his mount and rode toward the tents.

Stefan studied the man in silence. He turned at the snort of a horse to see Kasimir and Garrick eying him. “What?”

“Do you think the King knew of the change in the essences, and that’s why he recalled our Alzari?” Kasimir asked.

“Maybe, but why didn’t he have me informed? Why didn’t he warn the Ashishin?”

“Why should he?” Garrick shrugged. “They’re Matii. They can sense what is happening as much as any other.”

“Not to mention that he did command us to kill the Astocans,” Kasimir added. “So the use of menders should have been limited to our own wounded.”

“An order I disobeyed,” Stefan said, voice low. He flapped his reins and sent his horse trotting toward the Setian camp. Nerian knows how I feel about saving men. If there was a problem with the elements, why didn’t he send a warning? In fact, why hadn’t Cerny or any of the other Alzari? The question swirled through Stefan’s mind all the way back to their encampment.

Days later, Stefan sat in his pavilion tapping time on his helmet. Raindrops drummed on the canvas, while the winds howled and buffeted the gray-white walls. The rain was a welcome respite to the sweltering heat the past few weeks. So far, there had been no more incidents with the Ashishin, but the breaks needed by them brought the entire process of mending the Astocans to a crawl.

To make issues worse, if the elements didn’t stabilize sometime soon, the Travelshafts would be of no use. His army would have to march from the Sang Reaches across some two thousand miles or more to Benez. Although the trip was mainly through farmland and grassy plains, it could take at least three weeks and that was if he took only his cavalry. Waiting for the entire army meant adding another three months.

“The bloody gods of Flows laugh at the plans of men,” he grumbled under his breath as he stared at the map.

Stefan glanced up at the rustle from the pavilion’s entrance. The rain became a roar and the wind a wail as Kasimir’s slim form ducked inside, water streaming down his armor.

The Knight General cleared the hair plastered to his forehead and cheek before he spoke. “Sir, a report arrived from Kaden. The elements calmed overnight. The Shin have been able to mend all the Astocans.”

Stefan’s lips twitched into a smile. “And here I was cursing the gods.”

“I knew you’d like that.” Kasimir grinned. “Garrick and the Knight Captains are gathering the men. We assumed you weren’t planning on waiting out the storm.”

“You know me too well.” Stefan stood and pulled on his gloves. Lips pursed, he traced a finger south from the Sang Reaches through the swamps and into Castere. “With the storm, the Sinking Swamps will be too treacherous to pass if we wanted to use the Travelshafts at Castere. The next closest city is Konele, here.” He moved his hand west. “Have a contingent stay behind to take apart the tents and follow when they’re done. Send the scorpios and wagons through first with enough men to protect them should the Svenzar decide this is a good place for a raid.”

“Do you really think they will strike this far south?”

“We have seen how quickly the Svenzar can traverse any mountain range. Considering they built the shafts, who is to say they don’t have a way to reach them easier than we do?”

“If that’s the case, why not wait?”

“And risk Mater becoming unstable again? No. We leave now.”

Kasimir nodded. “I’ll make sure all is ready.” The Knight General turned on his heels and left.

After Stefan pulled on his helmet, he took one last look around his pavilion. In ways, he would miss his tent, but he was also glad to be heading home. Thania’s silky hair and golden eyes called to him. With a sigh, he pulled back the tent flap and stepped outside.

Immediately, the rain pattered on his helm and the wind snatched at his cloak. He ignored both and slogged through mud to where his horse was tethered. Despite the weather, the camp had a purposeful bustle about it as soldiers and Cardian slaves hurried along with their preparations. They were taking apart tents while others had the wagons and drays with their scorpios already in a line. To the west of the camp, a long snake of infantry waited. Ahead of them, horses stomping their impatience, the cavalry formed.

The storm had done a good job of washing away the stench of thirty thousand soldiers. No longer did the pungent smells of piss, shit, or sweat hang. Instead, Stefan drew in a breath of freshness. Muddy freshness but satisfying all the same. He was mounting when the sound of racing hooves reached him.

Silversteel armor unmistakable even with the deluge and dark clouds that made the afternoon more akin to dusk, a Pathfinder raced through the camp. When the man drew closer, Stefan made out the golden shield chased into the breastplate.

Kaden yanked on his reins and brought his horse to a jarring halt several feet from Stefan.

“What’s the matter?” Stefan was unable to see Kaden’s face, but from the way the Pathfinder kept his back straight and head high as he approached closer something wasn’t right. The Knight Commander tensed.

“Apparently your King has forbidden the Ashishin from entering Benez. He went so far as to banish any who serve the Tribunal,” Kaden shouted over the wind’s howls.

“What?”

“Word came by eagle sent from the Tribunal themselves. They ordered us home to Granadia immediately.”

Stunned, Stefan stared through the rain at his army. Nerian, What in Ilumni’s name are you doing? First, you recalled the Alzari without saying why and now you banish the Ashishin from Seti?

“I took the liberty of sending the Astocan survivors to Castere,” Kaden said. “Without Pathfinders, I wish you the best of luck, Knight Commander. May Ilumni shine his light on you.” Without another word, he flapped his reins and thundered back the way he came.

Stefan watched the man ride off. Without Pathfinders, they would need more than luck or Ilumni’s blessings. Managing the Alzari to make sure none went insane, or to limit the damage when one did, once again fell to whatever method King Nerian chose. In the past, none worked half as well as having the Pathfinders.

Kasimir rode over, his horse’s hooves splashing through puddles formed within the ruts from wagon wheels. “What was that about?” he yelled.

A hand stroking the stubble on his chin, Stefan gave a slow shake of his head. “Nerian has banished all Ashishin from Seti.”

Kasimir’s eyes widened. “Hydae’s Flames, what’s he thinking?”

Coming from Kasimir, the curse caught Stefan off-guard, but he sympathized. “I was standing here saying the same thing. The Tribunal won’t take kindly to this.”

“That’s an understatement. I wouldn’t be surprised if this sparked a war.”