Matthew Sturges - Midwinter

She said she no longer loved Mauritane, that she loved only him. What would she do if she found out what had really happened? Purane-Es's stomach churned. How long would he be forced to pay for that one error in judgment? He'd never meant for things to go so far. He'd certainly never meant for his brother to be killed.

Or had he?

Sometimes, Purane-Es admitted to himself, he had wished La dead. Purane-La, the firstborn son, the one who could do no wrong in his father's eyes. La was Father's great achievement, and Es was merely his backup. Purane-Es had spent his entire life as an understudy, waiting in the wings for his father to notice him in any other way than to point out his failings. "You are wasting your life, Purane-Es," he'd often said. "You're not half the man your brother is," was another favorite. Sometimes, when the old man had had a few too many drinks, he would quietly admit that he wished Es had never been born. "You're useless," he'd observe, as though talking about a hen that didn't lay. Fortunately, by the time Purane-Es had left for University, he'd learned to shut such things out. He no longer heard them.

Regardless, being runner-up to Purane-La was paradise compared to being his replacement. Since La's death, Purane-Es had come to hate his father in an entirely new way, in the manner that men despise other men, and not just the simple loathing of a son for an aloof parent.

What kind of man blackmailed his own son?

Could Purane-Es really be blamed for any of this? All he'd ever wanted was to lounge beneath the shady trees at court, singing songs and stealing kisses in the moonlight. He'd never wanted this. Not any of it.

A scout from the messaging post in Paura interrupted his reverie. The boy ran out of the guardhouse, calling his name.

"Purane-Es! Are you Purane-Es?" called the boy.

Purane-Es nodded, taking the boy's hastily scrawled message, which had arrived via message sprite. He read Kallmer's report of the earthquake, and the subsequent news from Selafae and the riots in the City Center.

"What am I riding into?" he mused out loud. He tore up the message and rode on, his personal troubles momentarily forgotten.

The Rye Grove was teeming with activity. Seelie Army soldiers drilled alongside members of the Royal Guard. Battle mages tested their spellweapons, creating clouds of green and blue smoke over the trees. From the farrier's tent, the sound of hammers and the smell of the silver-hardening vats drifted out over the field. The morning mist was thick but had already begun to burn away beneath an unusually warm sun.

Purane-Es sat high in the saddle, curious about the figures he saw coming and going in gray and brown cloaks. They looked like peasants; most had no braids, and none of them was clean shaven. Even the Royal Guardsmen he saw looked a bit ragged, their uniforms not to regulation, their braids casually slung over their shoulders. It was depressing to see.

Kallmer came to greet them; he'd been leading a drill and was drenched in sweat, despite the cold. "Commander Purane-Es," he said, his voice guarded. "Your presence coincides with events both wondrous and fearsome."

"We need to talk," said Purane-Es, refusing the offer of cordiality.

"Of course, Commander," said Kallmer, emphasizing the rank to remind Purane-Es that his was equivalent. "I've set up a temporary headquarters in a hotel just up the street."

Purane-Es handed his reins to a groom, and they walked the short distance to the hotel. The streets were quiet, save for the activities of the military in the grove.

"Your message indicated riots," said Purane-Es. "If there is rioting here, it's being performed by an exceedingly polite mob."

"We've… gotten that situation under control since that message was sent. I apologize; there hasn't been time for a follow-up."

Purane-Es quickened his pace. "So we only need to concern ourselves with the earthquakes, advancing armies, and columns of flame. Is that correct?"

"More or less," said Kallmer.

"You've got new orders," said Purane-Es. "I want you to gather your men and prepare to pull out of Sylvan. If what you're saying is true-and I do plan to verify every word of it-then we should fall back until reinforcements arrive. We did not think they would cross the border so soon, or so spectacularly."

"Who gives this order?"

"The order will come from my father once I speak with him."

"But he has not yet spoken."

"That does not matter. We are of one mind on this matter."

"Show me an order from Purane and I'll prepare my men. Until then, I retain command, and I give the orders."

They reached the hotel, and Kallmer pushed into the lobby, Purane-Es following him. "I can have you stripped to graveyard walker, Kallmer. You are walking a gossamer thread."

"Save it, Purane-Es," said Kallmer. "Why don't you go back to the City Emerald and write a love song? I have work to do."

Purane-Es stopped in the lobby, unable to believe what he'd just heard.

"Pardon me?" he said, his hands in fists.

"You heard me," said Kallmer. "Run along to your daddy."

"I'll have your head for this! Do you have any idea who you're speaking to?" said Purane-Es.

"Yes, I do. I know quite a bit about you, in fact. And if you try to get in my way, I'm fully prepared to spread that knowledge around."

"What do you think…" began Purane-Es, but he was cut off by a tall, aging lord who waved his hands for Kallmer's attention.

"Commander Kallmer!" shouted the man. "I have been waiting for hours!"

Kallmer bowed stiffly to the man. "Lord Geracy, we are doing everything we can to locate your daughter. As soon as I know more…"

"I don't have time for your equivocation, Kallmer," the man shouted. "I am leaving Sylvan in ten hours and if my daughter isn't with me, I'll speak to the Queen herself about this! I'll see that you and that cursed Mauritane are hanged from the same branch!"

"You're the third person to threaten me with death in the past twentyeight hours," said Kallmer dryly. "The threat is losing its edge."

"Mauritane?" said Purane-Es, his interest piqued.

"Yes!" shouted Geracy. "Kallmer had that fiend imprisoned at my palace. But he allowed the man to escape from under our very noses, with my only daughter as a hostage."

Purane-Es looked askance at Kallmer. "Why, Commander! Your report did not mention anything of the sort. Have you grown forgetful?"

"It's nothing to do with my orders," said Kallmer, fuming.

"Quite the contrary, I think it has everything to do with your orders." Purane-Es smiled with mock politeness.

"Forgive my ignorance, but whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" Geracy said, somewhat calmed by Purane-Es's presence.

"I am Purane-Es, of the City Emerald." Purane-Es gave a brief bow.

"You're Purane's boy!" the man said. "I am Geracy. Your father and I hunted together once or twice."

"Yes, he's spoken of you," said Purane-Es, although he'd never heard the man's name in his life. "If you'll pardon me," he said to Geracy, "I believe I can straighten this matter out with my fellow officer and have your daughter back in no time."

"Finally!" said Geracy. "Perhaps you can convince him not to pursue this dangerous alliance as well!"

"Alliance? Oh, we must speak in private," said Purane-Es.

Kallmer sat at his makeshift desk, peering across its wide expanse at Purane-Es, who paced furiously before him. A pair of sergeants tended to paperwork at another table, ignored. Otherwise, the room was empty. Kallmer poured drinks and laid out the previous day's events in brief, leaving out anything to do with the escape and kidnapping Geracy had complained about.

"Amazing," said Purane-Es, when the story was finished. "But where is Mauritane now, if not here? If you have created an alliance, why do your troops not train together?"