David Durham - The other lands

"Now," Corinn said, sharpening the edge on her voice, "I give you this sword for a reason. You have a mission, Mena. I can trust it only to you. Even if our brother were with us, this task would go to you. You, more than Dariel, are the wrath that drives the Akaran sword hand. You will soon have to make use of it." She paused, looking frankly at Mena. "I would have used this language no matter what, but since seeing you fighting the Numrek I mean it with much more sincere certainty. Thank you for what you did, Mena. I had only heard of your feats. I believed in them, but I didn't understand them. Now I think I do, a little, at least."

Of all the many persons-generals and foot soldiers, Marah and warriors from around the provinces-who had praised her martial abilities, none had ever touched her with quite the sense of pride Corinn just did.

"I have received firsthand intelligence that the Auldek will begin their march during their own winter. They're timing it that way, so that even if they suffer in the early weeks they'll still have solid ice on which to cross the frozen seas above the Ice Fields. Comparing that with league reconnaissance, we estimate that if they are unchallenged they could arrive on the Mein Plateau by midsummer."

"That's so soon," Mena said.

"Yes. Too soon. Look at these charts with me." She motioned Mena nearer. When they stood side by side, Corinn drew her finger up along the western coast of the Known World, from the Lakelands north, along the Ice Fields, and beyond the boundary that had normally bordered Acacian maps. "I proposed a way to delay them. A small force could hold them for some time along the pass through which they will likely traverse from their lands into ours. It's a narrow strip of land, all of it mountainous. If they would sail, they could bypass it, but the Auldek fear the sea. So they'll have to thread their entire force through a series of narrow passes. It wouldn't be easy in any event, but I plan for us to make it very much harder indeed."

She is sending me to my death, Mena thought. For a moment she pondered whether that should offend her. Was it a bigger crime to send a sibling to her death, or did it show a sort of valor on her part?

"Perhaps you'll even repel them. Perhaps you'll decide the war right there in the far north. That would give the singers something to bray about, wouldn't it?"

Mena nodded. That's what her sister wanted her to do. That's what her queen expected of her, and-though she still didn't entirely understand-she felt powerless to deny her. What else could she do in the face of Corinn's certainty?

"We'll arrange a meeting tomorrow with all those on Acacia who can advise you, but you'll need to leave soon. Very soon. I've arranged a sloop for you leaving three days hence, to carry you first to Denben; then you'll go by land along the Tabith way. By the time you arrive there, your main generals will have gathered, and soon you'll head north. Your troops will mostly be Candovian, though I'm putting out a call for volunteers, with the promise of considerable rewards for those who accept. Maybe some of Dariel's raiders will join you. They're supposed to like a good fight, aren't they?" She smiled. "These are just sketches of the details. Tomorrow, you can ask all the specific questions you like and have them answered. I know how much I ask, but whom can I ask but she whom I trust most? Mena-Sister-Akaran, do you accept this mission?"

"Of course," Mena said. You've left me no choice, really, Corinn-Sister-Akaran.

"Wonderful!" Corinn said, smiling radiantly. "Make the brutes regret they ever left home. I know you will." She rounded the desk again, her fingers trailing over the papers there as she did. Thinking the meeting over, Mena turned to leave.

"By the way," Corinn asked, in a matter-of-fact tone, "what will you do with Elya while you are gone?"

"I don't know. As I said before, she is not built for war. I-"

Corinn interrupted her. "That's become clear to me. I hope you know that she is welcome to stay here. Nothing would make me happier, in fact."

Really? That Mena had not expected. "Really?"

"Of course." Corinn stepped around the desk and extended her hand, fingers beckoning. Unsure, Mena lifted one of her hands and let her sister grasp it. "She did save Aaden's life, after all. Mena, I was wary of her. The way you arrived-quite frightening, really. I thought she might hide some corruption just below the surface, but I've seen no sign of it at all. And she more than proved herself by what she did for Aaden. I may just grow to love her as you do. And Aaden, you know how he adores her. It would do him so much good to have her here to greet him when he awakes. One fine thing within all this madness. Do say that you'll let her stay here. She may reside in your courtyards, just as she has been doing."

Mena tried to think quickly through the possible implications of this. What about the eggs? She suspected they would not hatch for some time. She did not know this, but it felt that way. The eggs gave off an air of contentment, of peace, as Elya had when she stood watching, wide-eyed and trusting, as Mena gazed at them. She felt they would hatch when the time to hatch was right. Considering that, might it not be better to keep them secret longer? Corinn may have been struck with sudden fondness for her, but it was, as yet, a new fondness. Better that it grow more substantial. And it would. It will. If she lived weeks with Elya and saw her become more and more important to Aaden, well, then she would know for sure, and the eggs-or the hatchlings-would be welcomed as the blessings they would be.

Perhaps I'll even be back to see it happen. Let the Giver make that so.

"That sounds like it's for the best," Mena said. "Elya may follow me for a while when I first sail. She won't fully understand, but I'll explain what I can to her. I'm confident she will choose to stay in the palace."

A thought flickered across Corinn's face, but it disappeared so fast Mena could not read it. The queen said, "That would be perfect. That all sounds just perfect."

Sire Dagon met the others of the League Council in a darkened chamber of the league compound in Alecia. A light distillation of green mist clouded the air, moving in ghostly swirls on the air currents. The first rank of leaguemen sat in a tight circle, each of them leaning back in an intricate reclining chair. Beyond the first ring there was a second, and a third, and beyond that the nonspeakers huddled close, listening. At meetings like this only the first three circles could speak freely, and they all did so without really seeing the others. It could take a long time between the asking of a question and an answer, especially as the group's mist-drenched state meant that they shared a certain linkage of thought. Their minds hummed like tuning forks that spread the same note among them. They had separate minds, yes, but it was-in the council chamber-impossible for any of them to deceive the others.

"Events did not proceed as we expected," Sire Dagon admitted. "Our intelligence about the Auldek was… partial. Flawed, I'm afraid."

An answering rumble of voices reverberated in the dim chamber of the League Council.

"You speak in understatement." Sire Grau's voice had an unusual clarity to it, a cadence untroubled by the tremulous effects of his advanced years. Dagon recognized what powered it: flames of anger stirred up from the slow embers that usually fueled him. "Neen saw what he wished to see, not the actual truth! He acted on what he wanted to believe, driven by emotion, blind to the flaws of his actions. Rarely has a leagueman made such grave mistakes."

Sire Grau sat beside Dagon in the first circle. Neither man looked at the other. Usually, the mist had a calming effect, enough so that they conducted all council business-no matter how fractious-with heavy-lidded calm. On this occasion Dagon felt an increased level of clarity in his own mind, calmed not at all by the unease surging through the chamber in waves. It had been many, many years since they met to discuss so many events not entirely in their control. For the younger among them, this marked the first such time.