Your
Grace,
It
is my great misfortune to be the one to bring you the news of the encounter
between our forces around the Castle of the Sea and the fugitives you wished us
to apprehend. If you read but one paragraph of this missive, then you should
know that they have escaped, claiming several lives in the process.
It
may be that you are interested in the details of the escape, although I know
that your preparations for the battle in the east consume much of your time. In
case you do have the desire for additional information, I will continue with a
more elaborate report.
After
their hasty departure from the Castle of the Sea, several Sone light horsemen
attempted to intercept the two Touraine nobles. The sergeant in charge of the
patrol was unable to cut them off, but observed that the young girl
accompanying the Touraine warrior appeared to be injured, and was in fact tied
into her saddle. The older man, whom you have identified as Garnet Touraine,
did not appear to be injured. Out of curiosity, the cavalry sergeant dispatched
two riders to tail the fleeing Touraine.
When
your order came to initiate pursuit, this proved fortuitous. Shortly after
leaving the castle, the Touraine backtracked into a forested area, heading south
towards Skye lands. The bulk of our agents were only able to locate the
Touraine after one of their escorts split off to make a report. Our agents were
able to catch up to the Touraine in the small village of Topsdown, where they
had taken a room in an inn for a night.
After
some negotiation, the eight agents on site decided to attempt to capture their
quarry as they slept. I do not have all of the details of that encounter, as
all eight were killed in the ensuing fire, while the quarry escaped in the confusion.
When questioned about Joy Touraine's injuries, the innkeeper told our agents
that the man who appeared to be Garnet Touraine claimed to have been set upon
by bandits in the forest. We consulted a local tracker, and were able to trace
the Touraine out of the village and pursue them as they traveled in the
direction of Castle Skye.
Within
two days of Skye, I made the decision to attempt a second acquisition before
they entered the city. As you are aware, cities provide substantial challenges
to standard operations, particularly when we wish to avoid angering or even
alerting the city's lord. Given that relations with the Duke of Skye are
somewhat irregular, a minimization of disruption seemed appropriate. We engaged
the quarry during the day in an ambush site chosen for minimal terrain.
At
first, everything went according to plan. We used caltrops to cripple Garnet's
horses, and then presented overwhelming firepower to coerce him to surrender.
He seemed unfazed by this, and closed on our position.
What
happened next seems somewhat confusing even now, but I will do my best to
explain it anyway. In a moment, Garnet Touraine changed, and I swear that he
appeared to hold flame and ice in his hands. We opened fire on him, and the
bullets came back at us, causing several casualties. My swordsmen moved to
surround him, but he fought like a devil. When at last one agent caught him in
the torso with a blade, Garnet laughed and jerked it from his own chest. There
was no blood, at least until he ran it through the young swordsman. At that
point, the creature you have named as Garnet Touraine grabbed another of my
men, and in a clear, cool voice, asked him if he was afraid.
The
man answered, "No."
Garnet
smiled, and spoke, "You lie." He released my agent, who then
convulsed and died. When I returned later, there was nary a mark upon his body.
As
you may have apprised, that was the point at which I declared a retreat. Our
final casualties in the brief engagement numbered nine, bringing the total
losses to seventeen. In the aftermath, we traced the quarry into the city
surrounding Castle Skye, but after that, we know nothing more.
Your servant,
Morgan Soieko
He
watches the priests fall, but even as they die, he sees the shapes forming
among them. He looks over his shoulder to where they wait, the two armored
warriors and the old man. The witch is fussing over them, and with a curt slash
he has her escorted away from them. Then, he nods to the trio. The woman raises
her emerald blade into the sky. For an instant, he sees another woman's shadow
superimposed over her. Then, all three are gone.
He
sees a glimmering at the front ranks of the battle, and then they are there,
amidst the ranks of the Children of the Aten. Beside him, Lucien Skye watches
through his spyglass, then lowers it. In a quiet but firm voice, the duke
speaks, "They are pushing through the Children now, towards the heart of
the pack."
Columbain
grunts. The witch is riding to her husband's side, so he holds out his hand for
the spyglass and looks through it. The trio faces a single opponent, a great
man with the emerald-feathered head of a bird and sweeping, iridescent wings.
As he watches, a spray of shards cuts the old man down, "The Sone has
fallen," Columbain notes, detached.
The
witch gasps, and Lucien lays his hand on her arm reassuringly. Columbain
wonders again what possessed her to come to this place. He imagines she will
never know how near she stands to death. One blade, and so much evil could be
ended….
A
bright flash emanates from the distant battle. He looks through the spyglass,
and sees glistening tendrils swirling out from the woman's sword. She stumbles
and falls, but the scarlet webs wrap around the Child, binding it in chains of
blood. The last warrior lunges at it, but the Child sweeps its wings
desperately, driving him back again and again. Glittering feathers swirl around
both warrior and Child. Then there is a shriek, and the ibis-headed monster
falls. Columbain grunts again, this time with approval. "The Minamet bound
the beast, but has fallen. It was enough, though – the merchant has killed it."
He waves to his musician, who nods and lifts his horn to signal the final
charge.
As
he does so, the witch says, "I must go to them!" She spurs her horse,
charging towards the heart of the fray.
Columbain
catches her before her horse takes three steps, and rips her free of her saddle
while his men block her advance. Behind him, he senses the pistol aimed at his
back, but the knowledge brings no fear. He drags the witch across the pommel of
his horse, and swears at her. "Whatever you think you would do, cease
believing it now, Your Excellency. That is a war, and neither your silver
tongue nor your beauty will spare you from Aten blades. Go back to your husband
and your daughters, for you have no place here." He carries her back to
her husband's steed, looking straight down the barrel of the Duke of Skye's
pistol. The duke's gaze is icy as he accepts his wife from Columbain's arms.
Behind them, Athel Bellatrix simply looks shocked.
Columbain's
voice is as cold as Lucien's eyes. "Our healers will see to them, and I
will see to the rest of this battle. In a month, I do not doubt that news of 'your'
victory will spread across the kingdom, but I have no use for you now. Begone."
Thirteen
years ago, Columbain Bellatrix led the vanguard of the Bellatrix charge onto
Shiro Bridge. Thirteen years ago, Columbain Bellatrix died, only to rise again.
When the bridge fell, when Lucien d'Aramis sent five hundred Bellatrix to paint
the gorge red with their blood, Columbain's men alone reached the far shore.
He
watches Lucien look to the battle. He watches anger burn in the eyes of his
wife.
Then,
he watches them leave.
He
turns back to the battle, and he leads his men to victory.
They
were coming.
To
the wellspring of the heart, they were coming, striding through the patterns
and shattering order. Like a desert storm or an unseasonable rain, they swept
across the land, disturbing the future with their unthinking clamor.
The
Lord of Jackals could deny it no longer. The insects were coming, and He would
have to put aside His dream to try to drive them back. Reluctantly, He released
the lines and the cords that stretched across His domain. Reluctantly, He
partook once more of flesh.
In
a shimmer, the Lord of Jackals crystallized upon His onyx throne.
He
sat for a moment, waiting for a priest to feel His touch and come to Him. As He
waited, He felt the familiar pangs of flesh weigh upon Him. In the polished
glass above His court, He could see His shape clearly. He was beautiful. Flesh
was beautiful. Hunger stirred within Him. And yet the priest did not come.
His
hunger grew stronger. The priest did not matter. He rose, and strode from His
throne. At the gate of His chamber, twenty of His deathless thralls held watch,
but He had no care for their maggot-encrusted forms. Without a thread of
interest, He moved past them, past a dozen of their companions, and into His
seraglio.
Here,
the threads spread around Him like a tapestry. As always, He entered the
nursery first, to feel the surge of the patterns forming there. Sixteen of His
concubines lay amidst the pillows and euphoric smoke, and within each one grew
one of His heirs. He paused to stroke one's belly, reaching out to the nascent
Child. He trembled in anticipation of His birth, and the host whined with
pleasure at the sensation. She was playing a part in something so much deeper
than herself. It pleased the Lord of Jackals to have given her that
opportunity. It had pleased Him very much as well, and He felt His garment of
flesh hunger for that again. He would wait no longer. He left the nursery, and
pushed past the filmy veils beyond which His harem waited.
Seven
women waited for Him among the veils, each one a treasure bound by a bright
bronze chain. His absent priests had prepared them well, gowning them in silk
and jewelry and feeding them the sumptuous honey of the desert bees.
Intoxicated by dreams of pleasure, they merely waited for Him to come to them.
He had been fortunate in the recent months, for the advance of the insects had
sent hundreds of refugees through His city. His priests had found those who
would please Him most, and had brought them here. It was a great honor to bear
the Children of the Sun. He chose the first one to bless, a dusky eyed desert
girl with ink-stained skin. When He wrapped His threads around her, He felt her
quiver, and knew that though she was Chosen, she would not live to bear His
heir. He freed her from her shackles, feeling an instant of regret at the
waste.
The
next two women were Chosen, and He knew that His Children would quicken within
both of their wombs. It was the fourth, though, that truly captivated Him, for she
was not Chosen. By the combs that bound her silken black hair, by the pale
ivory of her skin, and by the golden light of her almond-shaped eyes, He knew
her to be a captured insect. His flesh tingled with anticipation at the
pleasure of her conversion.
When
He freed her from her chains, He felt a second surge of eagerness. She did not
slump or stumble like the others had, but stepped sinuously free of her
bindings. Then, without command or thread-bound bidding, she danced for Him.
When
she finished, she pulled the combs from her hair and stepped towards Him, and
His hunger could not be checked. He seized her and tore away her veils, and did
not see the fire that burned around her stiletto comb until it buried itself
deep within His heart.
Bearing
only a twisted silver comb, Sone Michiko watched the Lord of Jackals die.
The
Crown Prince of Komaru has three chairs in the Royal Council Hall. They sit in
a row upon a raised dais at the back of the hall, parallel and spaced just far
enough apart to allow six generations of Royal children fond memories of hiding
between them. The central chair is for the Crown Prince, and has the highest
back. The chair to the right is for his consort, and shows more wear than even
the Prince's own. The chair to the left, the last chair, shows no wear at all.
It has always been there.
Today,
Mei Komaru, Marquess of Mirassa, sits in the chair. Beside her, her nephew
Alessandro sits, angry. It is an expression he often wears, and one that she
cannot reconcile with the Alessandro she knew growing up. In her mind, she still
sees him laughing as he chases his sister Ligeia through the Royal Palace. She
still remembers him at his brother Andreas' funeral, scared but determined not
to show it, unaware of the tears tumbling down his cheeks. Inside her, he is
still the boy who offered her a smile and stole a kiss the night before she was
married. She wonders if that boy still lives inside him.
Across
the Royal Council Hall, the Yuasa delegation stirs restlessly as a new figure
enters. Mei watches the man approach the other Yuasa, his black cloak
fluttering behind him. As Xavior Yuasa takes the empty seat in the front row of
the hall, she shifts her gaze to Alessandro, and watches him exhale slowly,
sadly. She remembers Romana's stories about Alessandro and Violaine Yuasa
during the Interregnum, and wonders at Romana's husband sitting in Violaine's
seat. For an instant, Alessandro seems a hundred years old. But only for an
instant, and then his mellifluous voice carries across the Royal Council Hall, "I
see we have a new Yuasa in our midst. Welcome to the Royal Council, Your Grace.
I wish you luck in breaking the curse of that seat. It does seem to turn over
more often than any other in this hall. Oh, and pay my respects to your lovely
wife. I haven't seen her for so very long. Let us begin, then, with—"
Some
distance above and behind Xavior's seat, Laurent Yuasa rises. "Your Royal
Highness, while we are discussing Yuasa affairs, may I mention the unprovoked
attacks the Minamet have launched on our borders? Unlike the Minamet, our
forces were—"
Sounding
bored, Alessandro cuts him off. "Do the Minamet have anything to say?"
He glances over at Shiro Minamet.
The
elderly lord snarls, "Three more words from the baby serpent and my sword
will be my answer."
Laurent
is taken aback, but Alessandro manages to sound half-asleep. "Let's just
put that duel aside for now, shall we? We have an important announcement from
the front, conveyed to me by His Grace Sone Yukashii…"
Even
as Alessandro steams over the boy, Mei notes Laurent with some interest. She
agrees with Kahana's assessment of his youth, but does not find him quite as
pretty as the elder marquess described him. Nevertheless, with some confidence,
he could be impressive. She decides not to rule him out for engagement to her
daughter after all. With that important decision made, she returns her
attention to her cousin.
"…and
with these three great victories, the way to the Aten capital of Sunpeak lies
open to us. We have shed the blood of the Children of the Aten, and we have
taught their pharaoh fear. This summer, we will consolidate our positions in
the southern and eastern reaches of the river valley so that we can retain our
foothold over the winter." He pauses, and then raises his voice, sweeping
it across the great hall. "The winter itself promises to be some of the
worst fighting we have seen. Casualties will be high, for we will face the
serpents upon their own land. But when the spring rains end, when the desert is
open to us again, we will march upon Sunpeak. Then, we will end this war once
and for all."
In
that statement, it is clear that he demands the support of every noble within
the hall.
In
a lighter tone, he continues. "With the promise of victory in the east,
the time has come for the kingdom to concern itself with other matters as well.
To that end, I am assigning His Excellency Yamato Komaru to the Yuasa to
investigate their northern front. I am certain that His Excellency will do an
excellent job of ferreting out the true threat in the north." The Royal
Council begins to stir, and Mei suppresses her smirk at the same instant
Alessandro silences the crowd. "Furthermore, matters of peace as well as
war must be addressed. To that end, Her Grace Mei Komaru has news she wishes to
present to the Royal Council." He turns to Mei, nods, and settles back
into his throne.
At
Alessandro's cue, she rises and speaks. "The Komaru family, pleased with
the valor and heroism of the kingdom's families in fulfilling their duties to
the realm of Komaru, wishes to announce the pledging of three of our sons and
daughters to the victors of the East." She smiles brightly, savoring the
moment before the kill. "First, for her wisdom and courage in the central
front, we wish to recognize lady Elegance Touraine by offering her the hand of
lord Ajiro Komaru. Second, for his creativity and strategic foresight on the
northern front, we wish to recognize His Grace Sone Yukashii by asking him to
find a worthy match for my dear friend Midoko Komaru." She smiles at the
Sone duke, a tiny flirtation he cannot miss. After this gathering, she wonders
if he will recommend an aperitif to compliment this coming moment, which she
can delay no longer.
"And
finally," she pronounces, "for his heroism and modesty in the southern
front, we wish to recognize His Excellency Athel Bellatrix with an engagement
to," she turns to the Viscountess of Tetsu Matataku, meets her gaze, and
smiles ever so warmly to herald the news, "Her Excellency Nadeshiko
Komaru."
She
is seven years old, and she is having a nightmare. She is being pursued
endlessly, and though she runs as quickly as her legs can carry her, she cannot
escape the relentless hunter that bites and snaps at her heels. Her lungs are
near to bursting, and only the avalanche of her fear keeps her from falling,
weeping, to the ground.
And
then an abyss opens before her, and Adriana Komaru has nowhere left to run.
She
awakens with a shriek, alone in her sweat-stained bed. Like nearly everything
around her, it is much too big for her. Still shaking, she blinks away the
tears she knows she should never show. Her nurse peeks into the room, asking if
she needs anything. This is not the first time she has had this nightmare, and
she reassures the nurse that she is fine. When the nurse leaves, she picks up
Uma, her favorite stuffed horse, a gift from her uncle Sadashi. With Uma in
hand, she creeps out her door and into her brother's room.
She
knew he would be awake. He always is, after her nightmares. She can see his
eyes by the light of the embers in the fireplace. When she slips into his room,
he whispers, "Oh, Adry, you had another nightmare," and embraces her.
She tries to be brave every day, but for a moment, just a moment, she cries on
his shoulder. He murmurs, "It's all right, Adriana, it's all right."
Then it is.
She
sits down on his bed, then, and smiles at him. "I don't know why I let the
dream scare me. I just want to turn around and face what's after me, but I
never can. Maybe when I'm older, and have daddy's sword…" She slashes
through the air, and then falls over into the bed, giggling.
Hideo
smiles back at her before walking around the bed. He climbs up onto the other
side, and crawls across it. "I wish I could be there to see you, Adry,
when you do." He hugs her, and pulls the covers up. "Good night,
Adry," he whispers.
She
yawns, and snuggles into the goose down pillow. "Good night, brother."
She feels him pat her hair, and the touch reassures her. In only a moment, she
sleeps.
Beside
her, Hideo listens as her breathing deepens and grows regular. He smiles one
more time, and then lays back into his own pillow to go to sleep.
And
hears a soft, wet sound from the hallway outside his room.
Followed
by a muffled thump.
His
heart races, and he rolls over to Adriana, bringing her awake with a touch. She
starts, only to find his hand over her mouth. "Someone is in your chamber,"
he whispers, and she stiffens with understanding.
She
cannot hear the soft pad of feet, but knows to trust her brother. She slips off
the bed to hide in the closet, but it is too late. A black form enters the
room, and she sees the long length of darkness in its hand. She screams, and
grabs for the fire poker.
The
assassin slashes at her, knocking it from her hand. The tip of the blade slices
past her face, and she feels a stinging pain from her cheek. Hideo yells, and
flings himself at the assassin's leg, only to be spun into the wall by a
vicious kick.
The
assassin turns back to her, raises its blade, and brings it sweeping down
towards her.
Three
years before, Adriana and Hideo were playing in a garden when a jet serpent
reared out of the sand. They never told anyone – it was their secret. What
happened then happens again, and the assassin stumbles away from her, clutching
its face. The golden fire flickers around Hideo for an instant, and then dies
away.
Three
guards and the Royal Tutor burst into the room, and the assassin falls. Two
minutes later, Alessandro rushes into the room, the Royal Sword hellfire in his
hand. Kimiko follows a step behind, her own blade shimmering in the firelight.
When
he sees the assassin, Alessandro's face contorts with pain. Three strides carry
him to the fallen figure, and one word tears its soul away. He pulls aside the
mask. It is the face of a Komaran.
All
the while, Adriana Komaru, bleeding sanguine tears, rests within her brother's
arms.
"It's
all right, Adriana, it's all right," he murmurs.
She
feels safe.
In
the 218th year of Paraceln's Age, the blood of children fell like
rain, and from it grew a harvest to be reaped at the Castle of the Sea.