Book of Kayal: Strength of Unity Read online

  “What’s this?” intrigued, Ganis asked.

  “A story.” Engulfed by the carving, she did not bother looking at Ganis.

  Ganis leaned in towards Thalia, examining the engraved pattern she was drawing on the mask, and stood still for a moment.

  Miniscule and masterfully-done carvings displayed the story of ten people. The pattern started from the right eye of the wooden face and slowly, with a wide angle encompassing the whole face, made its way towards the other eye, but it was incomplete.

  “I wonder if there will be enough space.”

  Thalia smiled. “There will be just enough space to conclude the story, unless I do not live to see the end.”

  “Then I must protect you.” Ganis poked her index finger with one of her sharp fangs; an unpleasant scratching sound was produced by the gesture. “If any misfortune begets you I can make certain that you would be brought back to life.”

  “To what end?” She gently placed her carving knife and art on the stand above the chimney. “I never expressed how glad I am that you allowed Pertinax to get the warrior’s death he long for and deserved.” She paused, saddened. “I do not think moroi get to be embraced by Pax’s arms after death.”

  “Moroi are immortal.”

  “Even if they lose their head or hearts?” Thalia approached her comrade and offered her a warm hug which felt odd against Ganis’ cold body. “I made you this.” Thalia presented a small pendent with the shape of a skull on it.

  “What’s this?”

  “This was once the sigil of Katabasis Keep, before Asclepius was banished from it and far before the Peacekeepers held it. I heard it once belonged to an ancient lord who was tainted with a madness that claimed the lives of his subjects and eventually his own.”

  “What a bleak story.” Ganis took the pendent and wore it. “It’ll not repeat itself.”

  “I trust it won’t.”

  Hephaestion entered the room and took his position near the warm fire instead of sitting on his usual chair. He produced his pipe and started preparing it. Within a few moments he was puffing on it, filling the room with the musky smell of Ninazu’s new burning mixture.

  “How are the preparations going?” Hephaestion asked of Thalia, removing the leather gloves from his cold hand.

  “Pertinax and Dindrane say that the Enkashar are eager to fight, especially after hearing about Initium Keep.”

  He took a deep breath and released it. “It is a tale that will make anyone’s blood boil. I wish we could move faster.”

  “So do I,” Thalia said. “The people of Utyirth are not trained for such campaigns, and the Watcher hounds have just begun to join the efforts.”

  “I sometimes forget that Monolos insisted their presence would remain hidden till last season. I trust his judgment was right.”

  “We need to test the Enkashar in a real fight, to see how far their training gets them.” Hephaestion warmed his bare hands by the raging fire, pipe held by his teeth at the corner of his lips. He looked at Ganis and said, “You know how many you killed in Aurae Keep?”

  Ganis shook her head, she did not keep count.

  “A bit shy of seventy,” Hephaestion said. “That is an impressive record, I have to say.”

  “It was done out of necessity, and a desire to avenge the people of Hearthdale.” She turned around, looking at the snowing sky from the window. Some snow had accumulated by the iron sides of the window, hindering her vision slightly, and the fog needed to be wiped for a clearer view. “What of Aurae Keep?”

  “The Enkashar now occupy it. It helps defend Scandur, but does little for the Midland villages. We will not have much use for it once we decide to reclaim the Midland villages - whatever is left of them.”

  “Did the Hearthwardens express any desire to reclaim the raided villages?”

  “They insist on it.” He blew another thin strand of smoke; the pipe was nearing its end. “They think that it will be a great dishonor to their ancestors should they abandon the spot they chose to set a village. We should respect their wishes no matter how strategically unsound they are.”

  “I bet they think many of our habits are strategically unsound,” Thalia noted. Sometime after Hephaestion joined the conversation, she decided to continue her carving. The gesture was not noticed by Ganis until she spoke, provoking Ganis’ eyes to fall upon her.

  “In any case, keeping Aurae Keep for long would prove disadvantageous. The Scylds, no matter how little they know of war, will be quite familiar with their own structure. It would be best if a new outpost be erected, one which can defend a larger area.”

  “And where will that be,” Ganis asked. It was clear to her that Hephaestion had studied the maps of Utyirth in far more depth than he revealed. The Parthan, after all, was a scholar and an expert tactician – the reason why Lyra was so keen on having him in her Ona. If he was to fight, she would rather have him by her side than not have him at all.

  “There is a thin corridor of land linking the upper part of Utyirth with the lower part. It will help defend from any land attacks, but if the Scylds manage to succeed in building transport ships, it will do little to protect the Midland villages.”

  Ganis knew the corridor Hephaestion mentioned. It was where she met the Scyld guards while crossing the border to the Midland villages. It was indeed, she estimated, a good position for an outpost, but it would not be enough.

  “When I was in Initium Keep,” Ganis said, “I would often hear the guards speak of skirmishes they had with the Midlanders. It seemed to be successful more often than not.” She paused for a moment, shifting her attention to the dancing fires and imaging them telling a tale. “Do you think the forces we managed to raise stand any chance against the Scylds?”

  Hephaestion chuckled. “I think that the Scylds have little chance against us. What concerns me would be the cost of our victory…to both sides.”

  6

  Hephaestion stood on the wooden walls of Scandur observing Sigurd training the Enkashar on battle movements. Ganis climbed the stairs and stood beside him, watching the Enkashar alongside him.

  At a shout from Sigurd, the block of soldiers started marching forward; another got them to stop; another got them to jug; another got them to charge; another got them to stand still and root themselves in the ground defensively; and yet another got them to split into seven columns.

  They were all basic maneuvers which would be easy to implant as reflexes and have them used amidst the chaos of battle. Even such little training would prove invaluable against the foe they were about to face, the undisciplined Scylds.

  “They surpass my expectations,” Hephaestion said, casually stroking his curly brown hair after a gust of wind blew it out of place.

  “The Enkashar is starting to look like a professional army. Sigurd trained them well.”

  Hephaestion hummed. “I have been thinking about a way to get close to Naa’tas, and no matter how I view our situation it always leads to only one option.”

  “An option implies that there is more than one choice,” Ganis said.

  “A poor choice of word from my part,” Hephaestion corrected, slightly irritated by Ganis’ notice of his error.

  “There is always a choice of abandoning the mission and making a life for ourselves here, but that’s not an option for me,” Ganis said. I long to return to Nosgard.

  “You said ‘ourselves’.” He smiled. “Perhaps you are finally becoming one with the Ona.”

  “It’s a slow process for one such as I.” She looked at him briefly before returning her gaze to the Enkashar. “The more I think about it the more I understand that the Council purposefully established the Peacekeeper Core the way it is; without a sense of unity.”

  “They knew what unity would be. An enemy divided is an enemy defeated, we Parthans say.”

  “If only I was born Parthan,” Ganis said. “Perhaps I wouldn’t have faced Naa’tas alone.”

  “Have you forgotten the lessons of Kismet?” An
other gust of wind blew Hephaestion’s hair undone, this time he let it be. “All your experiences and actions led to you being where you are with the necessary skills to address our current situation. If things were not as such, you would undoubtedly not be in a position to make a difference, not like here.”

  Ganis took the words silently, absorbing the lessons they carried.

  “In the last fight,” Hephaestion continued, “when we face Naa’tas, I will fight until one of us parts this world.” He looked at Ganis - his eyes bore no doubt or concern. “Promise me not to interfere.”

  Ganis smiled. “I promise you that I’ll do nothing but interfere. If one of the Ona is to die, they won’t be alone. The others will not let either of us face Naa’tas alone. We will face him as one and die if we must. It’s the way of our Ona and I’ll respect it no matter how poorly attuned I am.”

  “So be it. This is an arrangement I will not contest.” His eyes went to the Enkashar once more. They were engaged in a combat exercise, using wooden weapons to fight in two organized groups separated by the color of their tabard – red and blue.

  “Anything new regarding our mission?” Ganis asked. She followed Hephaestion’s eyes back to the training Enkashar.

  “Eirene informed me that it is common for the Scylds to take in new converts. We will take advantage of it and infiltrate Scyldur.”

  “That leaves Eirene, Thalia, Dindrane and I out of it. They are a patriarchal society and there will be little we can do from within as women.”

  “Ninazu has a solution.” A smirk made its way onto Hephaestion’s face. It was not a menacing expression, but it left Ganis unsettled – like a child about to be tricked by other children.

  “Solution?”

  “A potion that will make you…fit in.” He eyed her body, top to bottom. “To turn Dindrane, Thalia and yourself into men.”

  For a moment Ganis was speechless in disbelief. Her jaw dropped, revealing a slight gap in her pale face, but it was short-lasted. She laughed. “That’s not even possible.”

  “Ask Ninazu if you do not believe me. You know how incapable he is of joking.”

  It was real. “A potion as such would take some time to develop, and I doubt you came up with this plan for as long and convinced Ninazu to research such concoction.”

  “He discovered it by accident, I hear, while trying to discover your requested potion, the one which could condense and preserve blood.” Hephaestion kept smiling; the thought of having the women experience the other gender in such manner appealed to his humor.

  But his attitude change swiftly. “We might be split once more, Ganis. This unsettles me quite a bit.”

  “After being reunited once more.” She took a moment for herself. The red Enkashar battalion seemed to be gaining an advantage on their opponents, forcing them back from their position and capturing a few as prisoners. Ganis did not know the details of the exercise, but could make out the outcome with relative ease.

  “I’ll not part from Eos.” Her hand fell on the Progenitor Blade. It was a comforting touch that made her feel safe and at ease. “Other than that I’m willing to do anything necessary for the mission to succeed.”

  Hephaestion nodded.

  She left the Parthan captain to continue studying the Enkashar and stepped down from the wall, hand still resting on Eos’ hilt. I will not part from Eos.

  7

  It was time to march north. The Enkashar were armed and ready, a fierce force driven by their desire for revenge and justice. Ganis often thought about the consequences of introducing them to such violence, war and the destruction that comes with it, but then she would quickly remember how vulnerable they would be without it. It was a necessity if they wanted to survive.

  Watcher, Enkashar and Highborn alike marched together. The small army was quicker than Hephaestion anticipated them to be, and by a stroke of random luck they managed to avoid encountering a Scyld force on their way, alerting the enemy of their advancement.

  Surprise was their ally, and they intended to prolong this alliance for as long as possible, as the teachings of Hephaestion dictated.

  A steed was a rare luxury to afford in Utyirth, and forty-three were given to the Parthan allies from different Midland villages to help in the effort. Hephaestion decided that they would be too valuable to risk on the battlefield, but crucial for scouting and the quick delivery of messages.

  The Parthans, all but Sigurd, rode on steeds, and Ganis maneuvered hers next to Hephaestion’s – Sarndall was the name of her mare. “How do you intend to build this outpost?” Ganis asked.

  “I do not know yet. We will use whatever we can find to build a palisade at first, then we will think of how best to secure our position. Perhaps we can dig instead of building. A ditch between us and the enemy would still give us higher grounds.” He held his reins loosely, allowing his body’s natural reflexes to counter the movement of the horse. Hephaestion rode with uncanny grace.

  Ninazu galloped next to them. He produced a leather pouch and threw it to Ganis. She caught it reflexively. “These are your pills,” he said. “Keep them with you and make certain they stay dry. Once you start taking them, stop feeding without the powder I made you.” While he started galloping away, heading to Thalia, Ganis took out one of the pills and was about to throw it in her mouth. “Stop!” he shouted.

  “What?” She held on to the pill, readying it in her hand.

  “Not now. I will tell you when to start taking them. We still do not know when we will go to Scyldur. It may be many seasons till then and I would rather not have the natives observe the transformation.” He paused for a moment, contemplating the results of such exposure, and said, “I will tell you when.” He galloped away to Thalia.

  Ganis retuned the pill in the pouch, closed it securely and stowed it away in her red armor. She felt the weight of Thalia’s new gear, but also the freedom of movement it allowed her. It was a comfortable and practical suit of armor, and she found the burgundy color quite to her liking.

  “Once we arrive and assess the new position,” Hephaestion said, “we will make way to Scyldur, leaving King Ragnar behind to care for the preparations, perhaps even Percival or Dindrane would stay behind.”

  “Could I by any chance convince you that it would be best for me to stay with the Enkashar?” Ganis said. She tried to keep her tone serious with little success.

  “And miss on such an opportunity, to see what it is like being on the other side?” Hephaestion chuckled. His voice was made coarse with age and a lifetime of smoking.

  She looked towards the horizon, at a vista she could not recognize, and watched it come closer. It would be a long journey for the Parthans, and a revolutionary one for the Midlanders.

  Part III: And All Path’s End

  Chapter 11: To Goal Proceed

  ‘Let those who seek me out of their own free will be offered enlightenment and salvation, for I do not discriminate the lesser from one another except by faith.’ Book of Rayogin.

  1

  The plan was simple, but it would be no easy feat. The Southern Alliance force, a name the Hearthwardens chose for their newfound pact, was to prevent their lands from being plundered and raided by constructing a wall separating the Scyld domain from the Midlands.

  Hephaestion, standing on an elevation overlooking the construction of the palisade, watched intently as the men and women of the Southern Alliance dug into the hard ground and hammered the spikes which would form the beginning of their defensive wall.

  “So this is the spot?” Ganis asked of Hephaestion. He wore the new armor Thalia had crafted him, looking more natural in red than black, and stood proud, hand casually falling on his blade and his red-trimmed silver kite shield strapped to his back.

  “It is the best we can find.” He pointed towards two cliffs separating the land from sea, first towards the left than the right. “We will dig a long trench and place our palisade there. It should strengthen our position for now, but it will not suffice o
nce the Scylds have enough time to raise a sizable force…Unless we seek to defeat them regardless of the lives it would cost us.”

  Ganis looked at him, trying to understand how the veteran still managed to value life after a experiencing so much killing and war. She shrugged the thought away and asked, “Will they be ready to hold it without us?”

  He hummed. “It might not be an easy task for them. Some within the Southern Alliance might be inclined to launch an assault and this, I believe, will prove a bigger challenge than the defensive preparations themselves.”

  “I can guarantee that the Highborn will do as we suggest.” Ganis knew that whatever she suggested to the Highborn was conveyed as a command to the Scands. Part of her reveled in this power, but it was usually suppressed by her newfound values of independence of choice, the Emperor’s values.

  “It is not the Highborn that worry me, but the Hearthwardens.”

  Ganis’ eyes widened. What is it that he hasn’t told me? “They are a peaceful people, and it’s the nature of peaceful people to avoid a fight unless necessary.”

  Hephaestion, for but a brief moment, turned his gaze away from the shoveling and hammering of wooden spikes and looked at Ganis, saying, “Even the most peaceful people can be swayed to war when presented by the means. Do not underestimate our capacity for destruction, Ganis…all of us.”

  Ganis knew that she, above all others, was capable of great destruction. Hephaestion’s comment resonated with her memories, especially the days of her Peacekeeper Core service. When she commanded a sizable regiment, she executed her missions with the utmost brutality, sparing no man, women or child.

  Her attitude was a result of her life beforehand, when she herself was spared no mercy for her actions; flailed for stealing out of hunger and imprisoned for protecting the weak. As a child she was often vilified for doing what was expected of children, and for a long time it shaped how she herself thought of the world, cruel and unforgiving.