Chris Evans - The Light of Burning Shadows

“None,” Konowa lied. Dreams haunted by the Shadow Monarch were no one’s business but his own. He realized his answer sounded abrupt, and made an effort to engage in small talk, at least for a minute until he could make an excuse and leave. “I sleep just fine, but then I’m probably not smart enough to know I should be worried. You mentioned something about my strategy?”

The Suljak wagged a bony finger and winked. “A diversion, of course. You really should have an adjutant for these sorts of events, a loyal fellow ready to overturn a tureen of soup, or perhaps let a rat loose in a punch bowl.”

The face of Regimental Sergeant Major Lorian flashed in Konowa’s mind. Their initial meeting had not been the most cordial-Lorian had tried to hack Konowa’s head off with a saber-but they had come to an understanding of sorts. Konowa missed him.

“The Iron Elves are not exactly at full strength at the moment,” Konowa said. “I pretty much have to fend for myself at these things.”

“Ah, the lone wolf,” the Suljak said, his voice sincere. “Alas, I’ve never actually seen a wolf, but I understand they typically hunt in packs. Only the sick or the deranged hunt alone…so I’ve been told.”

Konowa blinked and looked at the Suljak again. He appeared close enough to the grave to smell the freshly dug dirt, but the timbre of the Suljak’s voice bespoke a will to live that wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. “Are you also a lone wolf, or do you have an adjutant to cause mischief and mayhem when events demand it?” Konowa tried to think who among the Iron Elves he would choose. Sergeant Arkhorn sprang to mind. The dwarf was a diversion all by himself.

“I have several,” the Suljak said. “Though they don’t always know it.”

In spite of his desire to leave, Konowa found the Suljak charming. “Why do I have the feeling I am one of them?”

The Suljak shook with laughter for several seconds. Konowa worried the old man might fracture a rib.

“Another time perhaps. However, in all the commotion caused by your unfortunate accident, the three enchanting ladies escorted by the Prince took advantage of the opportunity to make good their departure. They appear to have left the party almost entirely unnoticed.”

Konowa spun around and looked to where he had last seen Visyna, Rallie, and his mother. They were nowhere in sight.

“Son of a witch,” Konowa said, half angry and half admiring.

The Suljak’s eyes opened a little wider. “Yes, and I understand you are also the son of a wizard. Tell me, have your parents’ magical abilities transferred to you?”

Konowa hadn’t forgotten where he was…or who the Suljak was. “If getting into trouble counts, I’m certainly a wizard at that.”

The Suljak tilted his head. “You are modest. Rumors swirl like dust devils about the legendary Iron Elves and Major Konowa Swift Dragon. I’ve been led to believe you are becoming quite adept at wielding power.”

“What rumors are those?” Konowa asked. The acorn resting against his chest gave no indication the Suljak was a threat, but it was dawning on Konowa that the Shadow Monarch’s power was ill-equipped to understand the subtlety of this old man of the desert. For that matter, Konowa doubted he or the Empire were going to fare much better. Pimmer might just know what he’s talking about.

“We get the Imperial Weekly Herald even here,” said Suljak Faydarr, smiling broadly.

It was time to change the subject. “Pimmer…excuse me, Viceroy Alstonfar, tells me you hold sway over most of the desert region and the tribes living there,” Konowa said, stepping out of the way as additional servants arrived to assist with cleaning up the broken glass.

The Suljak waved away the compliment. “Pimmer flatters me. I simply offer advice and leave it up to each tribe how they use it, or don’t. Walk with me, won’t you?”

Konowa found himself being ushered out of the courtyard and into a smaller garden no more than ten yards in each direction. The stone walls were obscured by large palm trees, creeping vines, and lush shrubbery, all of which created the illusion of jungle. It was even humid in here, no doubt because of the large gurgling water fountain set at the far end of the enclosure. Water splashed over the sides of the stone basin surrounding the fountain and drained away through cracks in the stone walkway to either side of it.

“Looking at this it’s hard to imagine there’s nothing but filthy, hot desert just outside the city,” Konowa said, then immediately regretted the remark. “Though I’m sure the desert can be quite nice, what with all the wide-open spaces…”

The Suljak lowered his head for a moment, then raised it and looked Konowa straight in the eye. “Major, should you ever be offered the position of diplomat at any time…don’t.”

Konowa accepted the rebuke with a smile. “You’re not the first to comment on that. It’s been mentioned to me that getting along with others is not exactly my forte.”

“And yet you are at ease among your soldiers,” the Suljak said.

“I understand them. And most of the time, they understand me.”

“And what of your Empire? Does it understand you?”

Konowa felt the ground shift beneath their discussion and wondered where it was going. His talk with Sergeant Arkhorn about the role of the Empire in the world had stuck with him. “The Empire is a complicated beast. For colonial subjects such as you and I, I suppose it’s even more complicated. For my part, I do my best to keep things simple. The Queen declares someone, or something, an enemy and I go out and kill it.”

The corners of the Suljak’s lips turned up in the faintest of smiles. “And if she declared me an enemy?”

Konowa returned the smile. “We both know the answer to that, don’t we?”

“Do you see the water fountain, Major?” the Suljak said, changing the subject. He grabbed Konowa’s arm and steered him toward it. “In many respects, this is the Empire.”

Konowa uttered a silent curse. “A metaphor for the Empire’s wasteful ways with people’s lives, perhaps? All the lost productivity? The unnatural harnessing of energy put to a single use?”

The Suljak laughed, and Konowa could tell it was sincere. “When Pimmer first arrived, the two of us talked by this fountain for hours. It was months before he went a hundred yards from the palace, and almost a year before he ventured out of the city. You, on the other hand, you are already out there. You stand here with me, yet in your heart you are roaming the desert now, no?”

He made as if to pat Konowa’s chest, but Konowa caught his arm and casually lowered it. The Suljak continued talking as if nothing had happened.

“You are a man of action, but tonight, well, tonight you stand among those who talk, and it is like pulling teeth, yes? Here you are, staring at a water fountain, talking to an old man, and wondering how long you have to humor him before you can make your excuses and get back among your soldiers. Or am I wrong?”

Konowa started to object, then saw no good reason to. “You aren’t wrong. However, I am sure I would enjoy our conversation more after I’ve done what we came here to do.”

The Suljak waved a hand to the sky. “There won’t be an after, I’m afraid.”

Something in his tone made Konowa turn. “What do you mean?”

“The fountain. See how the water gushes forth, forever filling the basin? That is the Empire, surging forth into uncharted-or at least little explored-lands in order to shine the light of civilization among the heathen and lift them up from their ignorance.”

“I’m not unfamiliar with this line of reasoning,” Konowa said.

The Suljak smiled. “I am sure you are not. I was most fortunate in that I had a lovely conversation with your mother and the delightful Miss Tekoy and Miss Synjyn earlier. I had hoped to engage them again, but it appears they had other business.”