In blood a daughter born but steel
Cannot replace the need to feel.
"I never wanted a daughter," Sirannor began in a quiet voice. "Or a family, or a lover. I never wanted anyone. At times, I even despised my own company. But life has a way of finding all the things you do not want and forcing them into your hands, regardless. So it was with me.
"I was brought up to care about nothing but my sword. A piece of metal and how much enemy blood I could coat with it, that was the only thing that mattered. My father had been a general in the Darorian army until he was forced to retire when he was severely crippled. Not by battle or accident, but a terrible act of nature: one of the volcanoes on the Middle Isle exploded, flooding his encampment with molten magma. Both of his legs and one of his arms were seared off. He survived, somehow, but was left irrevocably scarred with bitterness and anger. This was not how he wanted to be remembered, and he passed that resentfulness on to me.
"As his only remaining son – my elder brothers, soldiers also, had died variously of disease and accidents, further heating my father's shame – I was his last hope to carry on his legacy. "Bring the family name the glory it deserves, Sirannor!" This is what he told me, every day before I went out to train with the swordmaster my father had hired to teach me in his place. It was not a plea, nor even an order. It was spoken as a threat.
"I took that virulence, too young to understand what it meant or make my own choices, and turned it into coldness. As I honed my fighting skills in sunlight and moonlight, storm and dust, I fought not my swordmaster, but instead my own weaknesses and one by one, I destroyed them, determined that they would not distract me from my destiny. When my mother died, I did not weep. When my father passed away, I sat cleaning my sword in my room rather than attend his funeral. By the time my adult years were fully upon me, I had forgotten how to love.
"And then… I met Sereth."
Sirannor paused, eyes closed. He was silent for so long that Hawk began to wonder whether he had changed his mind about talking. But then, finally he continued.
"I was on mainland leave, wandering down the main street of Sunsee, rather irritated as I did not like to be away from the war for too long. The Middle Isle was my home: I lived drenched in its red glow day after day. The air here in the city was too clean and cool, the stars too brightly white, too perfect. I missed the ever-present scent of danger.
"She was standing in the middle of the road, staring at me. People often stared at me; my blade skills and personality were earning me a reputation. I ignored her, entering a tavern. As usual, the whole place went silent. More stares. Most avoided my eyes, except for a few of the younger lads, who whispered amongst themselves and tried to catch the gaze of the blond-haired, steel-eyed warrior they had heard so much about. I ignored them, as well; they were not fighting men and therefore not worthy of my attention.
"I sat at the bar, drinking only water, disdaining any substance that would dull or impair my judgement. Even on safe ground, I preferred to keep my wits on a razor sharp edge at all times. Rather, I came to the tavern to think and to listen, finding the idle chatter of the other patrons curiously comforting, much like finches twittering in a garden.
"Late in the night, I got up and left, noticing that the young woman was still there, still standing in the moonlit street, in exactly the same place I had last seen her. Still watching me.
"I paused outside the tavern door, demanding to know what she wanted, my annoyance growing again.
"She looked startled that I had addressed her, but softly, hesitantly, she replied: 'They say you've never cared about anyone. Is that really true?'
"I stared at her. 'You waited out here all night to ask me that?'
"She looked down at her hands, embarrassed. 'Um… no.' She glanced around suddenly, nervously, tugging her shawl tighter around her throat, and came forward a few steps. 'Captain Vandaris…'
" 'Stop wasting my time,' I told her, and began to walk away.
" 'No, please… wait!' " She hurried after me, stopping abruptly as I turned. She looked quite pale and frightened in the moonlight. 'I have something I must tell you,' she said quickly. She kept looking over her shoulder as though afraid that someone was watching her. 'Please… please listen," she begged.
"I studied her. She was very pretty, a slender little thing in a pale blue blouse with slitted sleeves and a double-layered skirt with silver embroidery glittering along the bottom hem. Her hair was pulled back in a white lace scarf, a few long, curled strands falling in front of her childlike face. Her eyes were soft, dark and intelligent.
"Something about her presence, or her face or her voice held my eyes to her. And a feeling I thought I had long since obliterated struck me, shockingly, unexpectedly, as though this girl had impaled me with an invisible sword. I pulled it out hastily, refusing to acknowledge the damage it had done, and waited to hear what she had to say.
"Having gained my attention, she took a deep breath, composed herself and continued: 'General Myer is becoming increasingly anxious of your ambition to succeed him. He is jealous of your fighting skills and frightened of your intelligence and ruthlessness. He is aware of your family history and worries that you might be… becoming impatient. He truly believes that you are… that you are capable of anything…' She hesitated, glancing once again into the shadows cloaking the street. Then she looked up into my face and whispered: 'So he has hired an assassin to kill you.'
"I took this news in silence, running it over carefully in my mind. It was not the first assassination plot against me and most likely would not be the last. 'How did you come by this information?' I inquired.
" 'I…' She lowered her gaze again, and swallowed. 'I am General Myer's daughter. I overheard a conversation that I was not supposed to hear. I took a great risk in coming to you. My father would be very angry if he found out.'
"I inclined my head slightly in scepticism. 'Then why would you betray him?'
" 'Because I do not want you to be hurt.'
" 'Why should you care what happens to me?'
" 'Because… because I can.' Lifting her head, she held my stare for longer than anyone ever had before. Something deep and strange glittered in her eyes, and again I felt the sword pierce my heart. 'Safe night, Captain Vandaris,' she whispered, and turned to leave.
" 'What is your name?' I asked suddenly.
"She stopped, but did not turn around. 'Sereth,' she replied. Then she ran from me, and was quickly lost in the darkness.
"Sereth's warning proved well-timed, for the assassin was waiting for me behind the line of poplar trees opposite the military compound wall. He was good: even with all my senses alert I almost reacted too late. As it was, my parry was clumsy, but the assassin did not get the chance to take advantage of it: he was dead a moment later.
"Good, I thought, but not good enough. I was disappointed that there hadn't been more of a fight.
"Then, unbidden, an image of Sereth came to my mind.
"I could not sleep that night, and it had nothing to do with my literal brush with death." He shook his head slowly. "I could not work out why someone as beautiful and soft-hearted as her could have come to care for someone as insensitive as me. Why had she warned me? Why had she asked if I cared for anyone?
"I refused to believe the obvious answer, choosing instead to forget I had ever seen her.
"Two days later, in the midst of a heavy downpour, I was walking quickly through the streets, heading for the docks. I sought to return to the Isle early, feeling that I was accomplishing nothing loitering in the city. A part of me also hoped that by resuming my duties, I might drown out the sound of Sereth's quiet voice, which, despite my resolve, I could not seem to banish from my mind.
"Consumed with these thoughts, I slipped into an alley. A figure crouched there, drenched and shivering against the wall. I passed without interest, reaching the end of the alleyway before one tiny detail registered in my memory: a scrap of white lace, peeking out from beneath the figure's hood.
"I froze, then turned and strode back to the hunched form, grabbing her chin, forcing her face up to look at me.
"Sereth gasped and stared back, terrified. Her face was wet with more than rain, one eye swelling badly beneath an ugly bruise. Neither of us spoke; no words were necessary. Each of us could see the truth in the other's eyes.
"A dark cloud came over my vision. The rain seemed louder, the shadows deeper, Sereth's fragile, beaten face ghostly. I stood up slowly, staring down at her, a quiet fury building in my chest.
"Without a word, I headed back up the alley.
"Behind me, the young woman scrambled to her feet, ran after me and clutched my arm. 'No!' she cried. 'Don't hurt him! Don't hurt my father!'
" 'He is no father!' I snarled.
" 'He is my father! Please, Captain Vandaris, you mustn't!' She was sobbing, both hands gripping my arm tightly as though to prevent me from drawing my weapon.
" 'I must,' I replied coldly.
" 'Why?'
"I stared her in the eye. 'Because I can.'
"We looked at each other for a long moment. 'You do care,' she whispered.
"A wash of rain blew over us from the street, pattering on my armour, dripping off Sereth's hair. My gut twisted at the sight of her. 'I will not kill him,' I said finally.
"Then I walked away.
"True to my word, I did not murder General Myer, though I do not deny that it would have given me pleasure to do so. Instead, I cut off his hands, so that he could never again raise them in an act of barbaric cruelty against an innocent person.
"No one in the army, save my victim, knew that it was I who had committed this deed, though some suspected. General Myer did not dare speak the truth to anyone, lest he lose his head as well.
"I remained on the Isle for awhile, but something inside me seemed to have changed. I did not find peace, as I had wished. The memories of my encounters with Sereth replayed themselves over and over in my head with disturbing frequency. I found myself taking the image of her face, before it had been marred, and holding it in my vision, admiring it from every angle as though it was a precious gem. I looked at my sword, seeking strength from its hard cold metal, but it did not seem to fit in with my thoughts of Sereth. I felt unbalanced, unfocused, as though I were being pulled in opposite directions at once.
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"Slowly, I could feel myself being torn apart.
"I was horrified at these newfound feelings for I did not understand them and worse, could not control them, though I desperately tried. I became reckless and irritable, throwing myself into every conflict, large or small, and ended up inflaming them. I trained with furious determination, though no one would spar with me as I took duels as though each one was a personal vendetta.
"Eventually, I resolved that I had to go back. I had to see her again.
"My commanding officer was glad to grant me leave, he was becoming tired of my attitude. So I boarded a ship and returned to Sunsee. I discovered that Sereth lived in the South Quarter, in one of the mansions close by the military compound.
"I knocked on the door, and she answered, and the first thing I did when I saw her was kiss her.
"To my surprise, she kissed me back with equal passion. I had feared that she would hate me for what I had done to her father. As it turned out, she was angry, though more at the situation than at me. A part of her was relieved that the violence had stopped. And her feelings for me had never waned.
"And so it was that we became caught up in each other's arms and could not let go."
Sirannor paused, taking a slow breath. "Inevitably, then, Sereth became pregnant. She did not tell me straight away, anxious of my reaction. Her fear was justified: when finally she did impart the news… I was furious. She flinched when she saw my expression, as though expecting me to scream or hit her as her father had done. I did neither.
"But what I did instead, perhaps marked me as cowardly and tragic as General Myer.
"I walked away.
"And I did not come back."
Sirannor's face was lowered, drawn with sorrow. Hawk said nothing, merely waited quietly for him to continue. The Captain's voice was becoming increasingly wearier as he related his tale, as though the telling of it was draining his strength. Already, Hawk could feel a cold, empty space opening inside him from what he'd heard, but he had a feeling there was worse to come.
"As I told you," Sirannor went on softly, "I never wanted a child. I could barely forgive myself for falling in love, but to share that love with yet another person was something I could not bear. I felt that I had made a stupid mistake, a dangerous mistake. I could not afford the responsibility of a family, my life did not allow for it. My destiny abhorred it. I had let down my guard, and I was determined not to do so again. Sereth could look after the child on her own; I wanted no part of its life.
"Angry and haunted, I returned once again to the Middle Isle, where I was ringed by war and Sereth could not reach me… except in writing. She sent me letters, many of them: begging me to return, every single one smudged by tears.
"I cast them, along with all thoughts of Sereth and the baby aside.
"My sword, I thought, my sword is all that matters…
"Until, one day nine months later, I received a letter different from the others. It was not written in Sereth's small, neat handwriting, but in a hurried, scrawling script. Sereth's childbirth was imminent, it informed me. I was to come immediately.
"Almost, I tossed that letter away as well, but at that moment an unexplainable feeling of dread seeped through me like a dark stain. Something was wrong. Something was wrong with Sereth.
"So I went. I would go to her, I told myself, be with her at the birth and see the baby. She deserved that much, at least. But I would not love the child. It was mine in flesh and blood only.
"There was a commotion at the infirmary, when I arrived. People were milling around with anxious and confused looks on their faces. Members of the Watch were comforting weeping nurses and interrogating bystanders. The dark stain sunk deeper, and I broke into a run, shoving people aside until I found Sereth's room.
"I stood in the doorway, shocked at the scene before me. There was blood everywhere. Everywhere. It leaked out of Sereth, trickling down her slender arm, onto the bedsheets, onto the floor. And lying on the floor, bathed in his daughter's blood and his own, was General Myer.
"They were both dead.
"He had stabbed her in the heart, one of the healers explained to me in a shaking voice, and in the belly, and then slit his own throat. Despite having no hands, he had done this by affixing a blade to his wrist-stump, concealing it beneath his cloak. The healers thought he had come to bring his daughter comfort, no one had realised his horrific intentions. 'We should never have left him in the room with her alone,' the healer whispered, grief-stricken.
"I barely heard the man's voice. I needed no explanation, knowing instantly what had occurred, and why.
"Revenge. Sereth, for betraying him. The baby, because it was mine. Himself, to deny me vengeance.
"The truth crushed me, an impossible weight that would have brought me to my knees, save that I could not move. I could not speak.
"But the baby survived, the healer told me, his words floating through a haze. They had been forced to cut it out of its mother's body, but miraculously, it was unharmed.
"Sure enough, in a corner of the room the midwife sat huddled, sobbing, trying to clean the newborn child. 'I can't get the blood out of her hair,' she kept repeating, over and over. 'I can't get the blood out of her hair.' And indeed, the wisp of hair on the little child's head was crimson red.
"I named her Carmine, and left without touching her, without holding her. I was afraid, deeply afraid that if I did so I would never, ever be able to let her go."
Sirannor was shaking, his face in his hands. Hawk had gone pale, his heart hammering in his chest.
"Still," Sirannor continued with an effort, "still I did not cry. Still, I tried to believe that I did not love Carmine, but I was fooling myself.
"Four… four years later, I went to visit Sereth's grave, down near Barquilla Bay, where the green cliffs of Remast are visible on a clear day and herons glide over the water. She was buried beneath a great old magnolia tree, one that her distant ancestors had planted, I believe. It was a favourite spot for family picnics when she was a child – an experience that I had never known.
"Carmine was there, with her adoptive parents. The little girl was sitting beneath the tree, carefully arranging fallen petals on the grave. And she was singing, in a carefree, childlike way. She looked so peaceful, with her red hair shimmering in the afternoon sun. So happy, and beautiful.
"I did not approach the family; they did not know I was there, watching. No one knew that my heart broke, irreparably. No one saw me cry.
"I knew, on that day, that I had wasted my life chasing something that was not important. There was no glory in war, no honour in death, nor happiness in suffering. I had pushed away everyone I had ever cared about, and now I was alone.
"There was no peace… in loneliness."
He paused again, struggling with his emotions. Hawk wanted to say something comforting, but couldn't find the right words. He was fighting not to cry himself.
"When Carmine was twice as old," the Captain went on with a sigh, "I saw her again, unexpectedly. She turned up, of all places, on the Middle Isle. She had run away from her parents, stowed away on one of the supply ships and somehow managed to sneak into the main camp without being seen. I was sorting weapons, half-heartedly as the afternoon was burning hot, the sunlight filtering bright crimson through the Aegis, furthering the impression that I was working in Hell. Then I turned around and she was there, staring inquisitively up at me.
"For a moment, I thought that I had gone completely mad; that Sereth's death, which still tortured me after all these years, had affected me so badly that I was becoming delusional. Perhaps I had been outside too long in the scalding sun. It was simply ludicrous that my daughter could be here… here…
"But then some of the other soldiers stopped what they were doing, exchanging surprised glances. Some of them pointed at Carmine and shouted at each other to come and look, and I realised with incredulity that she was not a hallucination: she was real.
" 'Hi, Daddy,' she greeted, smiling up at me, oblivious to the strange looks she was gathering.
"Her parents must have told her about me, or else she had overheard them talking and figured it out herself. Terror soared through me. Carmine was here, on the Isle, in a gritty, dusty military camp, with battleships spiking the horizon and barren, fire-scorched mountains looming above, rumbling occasionally with Dragon thunder. 'What are you doing here?' I scolded with such fury that the nearest soldier took a step backwards, startled. 'Go home, girl! GET OFF THIS ISLAND AT ONCE!'
"The girl went pale and flinched away in fright, tears in her eyes. 'I only wanted to see you,' she said in a tiny voice.
"A curious crowd had gathered by this time, and a shocked gasp rippled through them as I drew my sabre on my own daughter, glaring at her. 'Go. Home. Now.'
"Carmine looked terrified, but she did not run away. She did not turn her back on me.
"Do you know what she did, Hawk?" Sirannor's voice was a whisper.
Hawk shook his head mutely.
Sirannor looked haunted. "She tugged out her own little sword and pointed it at me. It was not even a proper weapon, merely a crude wooden thing that she had presumably made herself. Yet, the blade was sharpened and surprisingly well proportioned: she had known what she was doing when she had crafted it. The look on her face as she wielded it was so serious that I almost laughed; truly, she believed that she was prepared to fight me.
"But as I stared into her intense grey eyes, I saw that they were a mirror-image of my own as a young boy. I saw the curve of my sabre reflected in her gaze.
"Suddenly, I was faced with the most terrifying thing I had ever encountered in my life: my daughter was growing up in my image. She had come to see me because she idolised me. She had heard of my exploits, exaggerated and glorified by tavern-talk, and she thought misguidedly, like many others, that I was a hero.
"I lowered my sword, trying not to let her notice that I was trembling, and said: 'You win.' I even managed something of a weak smile.
"Then I ordered my men to take her back to the docks, and they sent her off with the next ship.
"After that confrontation, I resolved never to let her set foot on the Middle Isle again, never to let her see me or come to know me. I would not let her destroy herself as I had done, I would not let her become cold and heartless." He fell silent for a moment, the sorrow gone from his features now, replaced with iron determination. "Ten years passed, and I heard nothing more of Carmine; she did not attempt to visit me again. I almost managed to forget about her entirely as I went about my duties. I was promoted to Lieutenant-General, being seriously considered for the next General of the Darorian Army. This aggravated Second Lieutenant Garth Dreikan – he was the nephew of former General Myer, and not surprisingly had formed a permanent grudge against me. The feeling was mutual.
"Matters between us became somewhat... tense, and as such I reassigned myself to train new recruits in the academy in Sunsee for a time. As you know, that was where you and I first met, Hawk. I may add that you were one of my best students, full of enthusiasm and good humour, somewhat reckless at times, but serious and responsible when you needed to be. Most importantly, you had compassion."
Hawk coughed self-consciously. "Thanks, Captain."
"In any case, I digress. One of my informants notified me that my daughter was attempting to join the academy. I told him to refuse her, to use any excuse possible or none at all to dissuade her. But Carmine was extraordinarily stubborn, she kept finding a defence for all the rejections and insisted on seeing me. She even tried sneaking into the compound in disguise. I did everything I could to avoid her."
The Captain shook his head ruefully. "I felt that I was fighting a losing battle. It was not enough to simply deny her entry: I needed to do something more, something that would fundamentally ruin her opinion of me. I wanted her to believe that I was no one worthy of imitating.
"I half-considered confronting her and telling her everything about me, about her mother, about her birth, every ghastly detail; to make her see the truth about what sort of person I was, and had been.
"But I could not bring myself to break her heart so horribly.
"Instead, I devised a plan to disgrace myself in the eyes of Carmine, the army, and everyone that knew me. My own career ambitions meant nothing to me any longer, I did not think twice about throwing them away for the sake of my daughter's future.
"I stole some experimental new armour,” Sirannor went on. “Fashioned from the strange, dark, newly-discovered substance the army was calling moltmetal. Liquid in its natural form, it turned solid when forged, and was unbreakable. The armour made from it was extraordinary, and a highly guarded secret.
“I stole it deliberately to get myself thrown in prison, and my plan worked perfectly. Especially when I confessed to planning to sell it to the Sirinese." He smiled bitterly. "Treason is an extremely serious crime. In many circumstances, it carries the death penalty. But because of my high standing in the army, and the fact I was caught and the armour confiscated before the secret metal was revealed to the enemy, I was given a lenient sentence: twenty years."
He nodded at Hawk. "You know that I did not serve my full sentence, otherwise I would still be there now."
"Yeah," Hawk replied. "I know you got out and joined the Freeroamers… but you've never explained exactly how that came about."
Sirannor stretched his legs slowly to ease out the kinks, folded his arms and gazed up at the star-strewn sky. "I met Grisket Trice in prison," he continued. "We–"
There was a loud, ominous grating sound, and the massive stone ball upon which they were leaning suddenly moved.
Hawk and Sirannor leapt to their feet, backing away quickly. As they watched, it began to roll backwards, slowly, ponderously, crackling over the broken glass. It continued until it was about twenty yards away from the dais, then it halted and went still again.
They eyed it warily.
After several tense minutes in which nothing further happened, Hawk straightened and yelled at the ball: "C'mon then! Have another go, why don't you! See if we run away this time!" He hesitated and turned anxiously to Sirannor. "Uh, we're not gonna run again, are we?"
"Hmm," the Captain murmured in reply. "Looks as though my bedtime story is over."