Matthew Sturges - Midwinter

"No, it only means that I am chief custodian. It is a job anyone can do. But we have gotten ahead of ourselves. We do not even know if our friend Mauritane will assist us."

Mauritane was confused. "Why wouldn't l?"

"You have pressing business elsewhere. Your duty to your Queen."

"If I can help here, then I am doing my duty to my Queen."

Vestar nodded. "Even if your mission fails?"

Mauritane thought back to the Chamberlain's letter. "Failure is death," it had read. He had no doubt what would become of him if he were not in the City Emerald on time.

"Many of the men down there were once under my command," he said. "I still feel responsible for them. And at the same time, the lives of my three companions are at stake if my mission does not succeed. Which lives are more important? I cannot decide that. All I know is to throw my shoulder where it will do the most work."

"Well spoken," said the abbot. "Do what you can."

"What if," said Eloquet, "you are asked to choose between those men you so love in the Royal Guard and the men under my command? What then?"

Mauritane looked at him. "We will have to make sure that does not happen."

"I might argue that it's happening even as we speak." Eloquet pointed down toward the City Center. Another company of Seelie Army soldiers had advanced toward the location of the rout, finding the rebels there tending to their wounded. The army officer wasted no time with a parlay; the men attacked on sight. Caught off guard, the rebels were unready for the assault. Half of them were slain before a single one of their weapons was drawn. The sounds of battle drifted up toward the temple, the clash of metal on metal and the screams of dying men.

"We must stop this. Eloquet, I must speak to my companions, explain the situation to them."

"Of course."

"Then, I suggest you and I ride out to speak with Commander Kallmer of the Royal Guard. Perhaps together we can sway his judgment."

Before Eloquet could answer, a young woman in the pink robe of the temple appeared in an archway, running toward them. She stopped, her hands on her knees, out of breath from running upstairs. She was also crying, terrified.

"We've just had word," she managed. "That… was no earthquake." She tried to catch her breath, struggling with the words. "It was… an explosion. The Unseelie have crossed the border. They destroyed Selafae. Messages are pouring in now. A great column of fire, it incinerated the entire city. In seconds, just gone. A column of fire."

Eloquet led the girl to a stone bench. She sat and collected herself. "They think… it is the city of Mab herself. And it is now heading directly for us."

Mauritane looked toward the northern horizon, where nothing unusual could be seen. "It's true then," he said. "The Unseelie have been preparing for a war."

He turned to Eloquet. "How far is it to Selafae from here?"

"Two days' ride on horseback," said Eloquet. "How long for Mab's city to reach us?"

"Depending on the wind, less than a day. Maybe a bit more. Certainly the army has received the same news and is preparing." A light flashed on in Mauritane's head. "Wait! Now I understand," he said.

"What?" said Eloquet.

"The Seelie Army's presence here. There isn't any offensive brewing against the rebels. They're here because of the Unseelie! The soldiers we discovered in the Contested Lands can't have been the only ones; our spies would have seen this invasion coming for days." He scratched his head. "Come, Eloquet. We must talk to Kallmer now more than ever."

"What are you thinking, Mauritane?"

"I have no doubt now that we can prevent a civil war. But I don't think you'll prefer the alternative."

Vestar had fallen to his knees. He pulled his prayer beads from inside his robe and began to whisper prayers, weeping for the lost children of Selafae.

"Things have changed," said Mauritane.

Silverdun, Raieve, and Satterly sat around a low table eating rice and fish. From the looks on their faces, they had heard nothing of recent events. The girl Elice sat sullenly in a corner, facing the wall.

"What's happening?" said Silverdun. "No one has said a word to us."

"The Unseelie have detonated something, a powerful spell weapon, on Selafae. The entire city has been destroyed. They are advancing on Sylvan as we speak."

"The Unseelie!" said Satterly. "Then the earthquake we felt…"

"An effect of the explosion. The quake has taken its toll here in Sylvan. The rebels have begun attacking the Seelie forces openly in the wake of its destruction. The city is in chaos."

"What are we going to do?" asked Raieve.

"I've decided to stay and help defend the Seelie Kingdom. Regardless of what happens here, our mission is… in grave danger of failure. You all knew what failure meant when you agreed to join me. Therefore, I release you from your service; you are all free to go and take your chances on your own."

They were stunned. "I don't know what to say," Satterly began.

"If we survive the Unseelie onslaught, I will make a plea before the Chamberlain that your lives be spared in exchange for my own. I wish I could offer you better. You deserve better."

"That's very kind of you," said Silverdun. "But… this is all too unexpected."

Raieve said, "What are the consequences of occupation by the Unseelie?"

Mauritane looked away. "We've been at war many times in the past. Whenever the Unseelie have taken Seelie lands, the people have suffered under their yoke. They are made slaves or worse."

"I will stay, then, and fight," said Raieve. "In my culture, there is no greater honor than to die in the service of one's people."

Silverdun sighed. "If the Unseelie overtake Sylvan, they will destroy this temple. My family lands are not far from here; they will go as well. What, then, would I have to escape to?"

All eyes turned to Satterly. He fidgeted in his chair. "What are you guys looking at me for?" he said, uncomfortably.

"You are under no obligation to stay," said Mauritane.

"Well, I guess I'd be asshole of the year if I left now," he muttered. "I don't know what I can do, but I'll pitch in where I can."

"Do not agree so lightly," said Mauritane to all of them. "Honor is generally only beautiful when viewed from a distance. There is a good chance that none of us will survive."

"And what chance had we before?" said Silverdun. "We all knew going into this that there was little hope for survival. I just didn't want to die in that damnable prison."

"In that case," said Mauritane, "let us be more than fellow travelers from now on. Let us call each other friend as well."

"Mauritane," said Raieve, "may I speak with you for a moment? Alone?"

Satterly and Silverdun took the cue. They stood and ambled off down the hallway, carrying the empty dinner dishes with them.

"Yes?" said Mauritane, once they were alone.

"I wanted to tell you. That morning, after we made love, I was unfair to you. I knew you were married and that you would not have been unfaithful had things been different. I was as much to blame as you. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," he said. "Nothing."

"Mauritane," said Raieve, taking his hand. "That's not all."

He leaned into her and placed his hand gently on her shoulder. "Tell me."

"I am in love with you," she said. "I started loving you the day we met. You speak of commitment, and duty, but none of those things matter to love. I cannot apologize for how I feel." She looked up, into his eyes.

Mauritane backed away from her, slowly. "I don't know what to say," he started, his frustration welling to the surface. "I wish… it seems my duty interferes with me at every turn. I can never seem to avoid it!"