> [Alre]ady seeing destabilizations in the areas farthest from the Nexus site, and a large-scale corrective action may be required much sooner than previously thought. The continuing severe weather and the lack of reliable transport has compromised our ability to perform necessary maintenance on the array. There is as of yet no imminent danger but I fear that we may find ourselves without the tools to address the problem if
>
> Unattributed fragment, early Aejha script on unknown material. Not handwritten. Royal archives, Ce Raedhil.
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Gusje padded down the palace hallway, her leather sandals scraping over the worn wooden flooring. Even at midday it was dreary inside the hulking edifice - there were few windows to let in the light, and those only showed the diffuse grey that fought its way through the omnipresent clouds roofing the valley. The remainder and majority of the light in the palace came from a small fortune in glowering qim, kiln-charged for lack of sun and swinging in chains.
She had never thought for a moment that she would long to feel the sun’s merciless rays on her skin, but the damp and dark had left her feeling sapped of something vital. Fortunately, the sun was not the only remedy available to her. She came to one of the mammoth exterior doors and pushed hard on the thick timber until it swung wide. The melancholy grey light spilled in, and Gusje practically ran out to meet it.
Moss-slick pavers gave way to dewy grass spotted with white and blue flowers. She kicked off her sandals as she walked, making her way to a carved whitestone bench half-overgrown with grasping ivy. All around her vines crept sinuously over trellises or the odd arched pergola, hanging with flowers and fruit that twisted sweet aromatic tendrils into the cool morning air. In the middle of the swaddling green riot, Gusje sat and was calm.
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“Look at her,” Arjun said wonderingly, craning his head out the window. “I’ve never seen her sit so still for so long.”
Mark snorted, not looking up from the map he was studying. “She’s from the desert, she hasn’t ever seen anything like the palace grounds. Plants where she’s from are either ‘poisonous’, ‘dead’, or ‘actually a lizard.’ Even under the cerein it was never really lush like this.”
“It’s true, this is nearly as strange for her as it is for us,” Arjun chuckled, shaking his head. “Albeit for different reasons. I think it’s good that she’s able to appreciate the beauty of it. She’s so young, to be in the middle of such conflict.”
“Kids grow up fast in a warzone,” Mark said grimly. “I’ve seen younger running around with a rifle.”
“...you say, yourself a wise old man of - what, twenty?”, Arjun said, only half-smiling. “You and Gusje are practically the same age, from my perspective.”
“Twenty-two,” Mark retorted, waving away Arjun’s smirk at the correction. “And we don’t know how old anyone is, doc. You ever notice how they don’t have years? Months? They just count in days, and anything farther back than a few dozen of those they start talking about ‘when so-and-so had his first child’ or ‘when the cerein was young.’” He tossed his hands in the air frustratedly. “Tesvaji could be my age and we’d have no idea.”
“A fair point,” Arjun conceded. “Something to ask Tasja about, perhaps. Whatever her age in our terms, Gusje strikes me as someone in the process of growing up quickly. The only home she’s ever known is threatened, both she and her family were attacked, and now she’s playing interpreter for the likes of us.” He craned his neck to look back down at her. “I can’t help but feel some regret, for our part.”
Mark sighed, setting aside the map. “Don’t,” he advised. “Shit was coming down the pipe for them whether we were here or not. Without us she’d be with Mosidhu’s son.” He stood up and joined Arjun at the garden window, resting his shoulder against the cold stone of the wall. “Stuff like this, it’s too big. You can never stop all the bad from happening, but you can sometimes pick where or how. Even then, you’re not gonna be perfect.”
“Very few people have ever accused me of that,” Arjun said wryly. “Still, that strikes me as a healthy attitude to take in unhealthy times, and advice I should consider following.”
“Even if it does come from a wise old man of twenty-two?”, Mark said, raising an eyebrow.
Arjun raised his hands, conceding the point. “I surrendered the moral high ground when I brought your age into it, I admit,” he laughed. “You and Mr. Gibson have valuable specialist knowledge. You’re more used to the rules of this particular scenario. If it had been only we two bumbling scientists Vimodi would probably have us wrapped around his finger by now.”
“Yeah, well,” Mark sighed. “We’re not out of the woods yet. I figure we only have another day before a report from Tizhodhu ends up on Vimodi’s desk. I can’t say what’s in it, but I’m almost certain we’ll be under increased scrutiny after it arrives.”
“Do you want to leave tonight, then?”, Arjun asked. “Slip out in the dark?”
Mark shook his head. “Tasja gave us our next destination but we still need to take care of aid for the Cereinem here. I think after last night we’ve got... well, call it ninety percent of our Plan B worked out, as well as an idea of how he’ll probably try to come after us. The trick is getting Vimodi to commit to supporting the Cereinem without any formal agreement from us to hand the truck over, then getting proof of the agreement to someone like Tizhodhu or this city council. Preferably both. Seems like they’re very big on ‘letter of the law’ over here, and his rivals in the council would love to find him breaking an agreement he’s signed.”
“I assume the remaining ten percent involves the role you have in mind for Tasja?”, Arjun said. “We do need someone with inside knowledge of Sjan Saal, and he’s the best choice so far.”
Mark nodded. “I don’t want to rely on him too much, he’s still an unknown quantity. He’ll have limits to what he’ll do for us and we can’t guarantee what he knows won’t leak to Vimodi. Implied threats only get us so far.”
“He’s been helpful enough getting us maps,” Arjun pointed out. “Showing us the vacata devices-”
“Plate-pairs, I think,” Mark said. “Something along those lines. Yeah, those were good to know about. Explains how Tizhodhu could call ahead but still had to send a courier. I think the navy used to use a codebook system as well, in the early days of radio.” He leaned back against the wall, ruffling his hair through his fingers. “I’m not denying the kid’s been helpful, but he’s just a kid. Hell, he’s basically doing an internship from what I can tell. From the way he jumped at showing Jesse and Jackie the library I think most of the reason he’s helping us is that his day-to-day duties have him bored out of his skull.”
“He’s certainly had his mind on things other than the broader situation,” Arjun said with a grin, glancing out the window. “The poor boy seems to bring the conversation back around to Gusje every five minutes without even noticing. He-”
Arjun stopped short, the smile dropping from his face. “Mark,” he said abruptly. “Did you see Gusje leave?”
Mark spun to look out the window, seeing only a stone bench amid the greenery. “Fuck, I wasn’t looking,” he spat. He stalked back to the table quickly to grab his backpack, then collected his rifle from against the wall. “Stay here,” he told Arjun. “Brace the door with a chair after I leave, don’t open up again unless someone asks in English.”
Arjun nodded mutely, and Mark stormed out of the room.
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The soft rustle of Tasja’s robes trailed after him like a chorus of whispers as he hurried down the darkened hallway. Inwardly, he cursed the moment he had ever considered his post uninteresting; tedium was preferable to having Vimodi popping out from behind corners every moment of his day with another urgent errand, task or message. Even the sanctuary of the archives, the traditional redoubt of clerks and scribes, could no longer offer protection from the governor’s whims now that the visitors from Gadhun Draat had kicked everyone into a frenzy.
He had been forced to leave Jesse and Jackie in the scriptorium to attend to Vimodi in person only to be summarily dismissed with a command to summon Gusje to the governor’s office. His last interaction with the stone-faced Cereinem girl had not filled him with confidence. Still, she had sought him out specifically that night. He recalled the old groundskeeper at the foundhome lamenting the strange and unknowable ways of women, and at the time he had put it down to the old man being an ugly drunkard.
Now, confronted with the strange and unknowable, he found himself wondering if he had judged the old man unfairly.
The din of raised voices from ahead jolted him out of his introspection. Sound carried well in the old stone corridors of the palace despite the wood paneling, so he was able to clearly discern Gusje’s irritated tones well before he was in sight of her.
“-tell you whenever I want to take a walk,” she fumed.
“Don’t forget where you are,” Mark’s voice echoed back, causing Tasja’s step to hitch a bit. “It isn’t safe to wander off on your own. If you’d just let us know-”
“I’m not a child,” Gusje hissed furiously. “I’m here as the representative of my family, my people. My father trusted me enough for that, but you don’t trust me to walk into the garden on my own?”
Mark let out an irritated grunt. “It’s not about trust, Gusje, it’s about safety. Things are coming to a head, Vimodi will try to-” Tasja rounded the corner and Mark fell silent, immediately turning to fix him with a cold stare as his hand dropped to rest atop a black object strapped to his hip.
Tasja would not have thought himself capable of overlooking Gusje’s supremely irritated mien, but Mark’s pale-eyed stare had him transfixed with sudden, overwhelming fear. The large man had none of the amiability and casual cheer that he had displayed the previous night. Tasja felt his own death breathing frostily over the exposed skin of his throat, hovering only heartbeats away-
And then it was over, Mark straightening up wearily while Tasja’s heart thudded against his ribs with unpleasant vigor. “Tasja,” he said. “Didn’t hear you coming up. You need something?”
“Ah,” he managed. “Vimodi Ma wants to meet. With Gusje Mas.” His voice trembled and cracked, but he was still too terrified to be embarrassed. Mark’s glare had left him with an uncomfortable awareness of his own fragile mortality.
“Figured he would eventually,” Mark sighed, missing another venomous look from Gusje. “Well, lead on.”
“Ah,” Tasja stammered again. “I’m sorry, Mark Rys, but Vimodi Ma gave no instructions about bringing you as well. I was under the impression he wanted a private…” He trailed off, words dying in his throat as Mark’s eyes narrowed. The pressure returned, and he became uncomfortably aware of his blood pulsing under his thin, vulnerable skin.
Gusje snorted and pushed past Mark to stand next to Tasja. “It’s fine,” she said coolly. “You’re the one that wanted to bring me along to speak for you, so let me.”
Mark’s eyes flicked to Gusje. “Tasja,” he said lightly. “Could you give us a moment?”
Tasja hurriedly excused himself and stood some distance away while Mark and Gusje exchanged furious whispers. Their conversation grew increasingly animated until Mark flung his hands into the air with wordless exasperation. He took a dark, boxy object from his belt and pressed it into Gusje’s hands, muttering insistently. She rolled her eyes, but eventually stowed the object in a pouch at her waist before turning sharply from Mark to walk towards Tasja once more.
“Let’s go,” she said, her tone not inviting a response. Tasja mutely led the way from the room, feeling Mark’s eyes on the back of his neck even after they turned the corner. They walked in silence the whole distance to Vimodi’s office, Gusje a stalking whirlwind of indignation behind his hurried steps. When they reached the heavy doors to Vimodi’s receiving room he flung them open with a palpable sense of relief.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Vimodi was sitting at his desk, his lips splitting into a fleshy, unctuous smile when he saw Gusje arrive. “Ah, Gusje Mas,” he rumbled. “Do come in and sit.” His eyes flitted over to Tasja and narrowed. “Tasja, get us water and find some paper. I’ll need you here for this.”
Tasja’s fleeting hope of escape vanished like fog in the high desert as he shuffled to carry out Vimodi’s commands. The governor turned to where Gusje was sitting lazily in one of his ornate wooden chairs, her hand idly stroking the visage of a snarling esemadhe carved into the armrest.
“Gusje Mas,” he began. “It grieves me to hear of the threat to your people. Although you are the first to visit in my tenure here, we have enjoyed good relations with the venerable Cereinem and Ademen Tacen from the time of my fathers and theirs before them.” He folded his hands in front of him, leaning forward. “I hope we can continue this tradition of mutual benefit even in the face of our current crisis.”
“Vimodi Ma,” she replied, her voice steady. Tasja noted, however, that one of her hands was fidgeting nervously in her waist pouch, her foot tapping a nervous tattoo on the floor. He realized he was staring at her leg and shifted his eyes hurriedly back to his paper. “I was sent by my father to secure aid in protecting the cerein of my people, and others that may yet be saved. Will you send men to help us?”
The governor sighed, his face looking very tired for a moment. “I will be blunt,” he said wearily. “The king’s own forces are powerless to stem the advance of the Emperor in the Vidim Vai. I have read the reports, and they all agree on one thing - resisting the blight on an open field is suicide. Outside the walls of Idran Saal, the only city they have not yielded is the fortified port of Sjatel - and that, I fear, is only because the enemy has yet to seriously contest it.”
“My men must stay at the wall,” he continued solemnly. “I am sorry, Gusje Mas, but if the draam je qaraivat fall then the desert is lost to us.”
Tasja saw her composure crack for a moment, an anguished flash passing over her face before it returned to grim focus. “If there is no aid to be had, then I agree,” she said, each word sounding like it cost her blood rather than breath. “My people must travel to Sun’s Rest.”
“And they will find refuge in our valley,” Vimodi promised solemnly. Tasja caught the particular tone of voice he used when he was offering terms and began to scratch down Vimodi’s words on the page in front of him. “The gates will open to them and we will shelter them behind our walls.”
“I thank you, Vimodi Ma,” Gusje said. “My people will be glad to know they have refuge here. However…” She hesitated, although even Tasja could spot it as theatrics. “I worry for their safety on the journey to your borders, as well as their livelihood. The cerein and its lands are our lifeblood, and those who flee will arrive with nothing.”
A flash of annoyance crossed Vimodi’s face, but only for a moment. It was, Tasja realized, a concession he had anticipated. “For any Cereinem who shelter here we will provide food, animals and land to work,” he said evenly. “I will also send men and carts to help hasten their journey.”
Gusje looked at Vimodi for a long moment before nodding. “You are generous, Vimodi Ma,” she said, although her tone was carefully neutral. “I wonder if we will ever be able to repay such a gift.”
Vimodi fluttered a hand at her magnanimously, shaking his head. “Nonsense, it is the least we can do in the face of such evil,” he murmured. “The council will begrudge me the loss of that land, covetous as they are, but their complaining means little. However, if you were inclined to think of the greater welfare of the valley, in the interest of reciprocity…” He trailed off, and as his eyes came to rest on Gusje there was a hard glint to them.
“I fear for our safety when the blight reaches our walls, Gusje Mas,” he lamented. “And I do believe it is only a matter of time, not of chance. Though we have rich lands we are not wealthy, and we have much territory to protect. During a time of war I could not say that our carts and messengers would be adequate to coordinate movements and logistics along the span of the wall, much less throughout the valley.” He leaned forward, steepling his fingers and looking at Gusje intently. “We need a means of fast, reliable travel.”
Gusje did not react to his words visibly but Tasja saw her arm twist as she clenched the fist she held hidden in her pouch. “And in the interest of the valley, you would like to have the chariot,” she said dully. “I understand, Vimodi Ma, but it is not mine to give.”
“Oh, my child, do not mistake me,” Vimodi said soothingly. “I know it belongs to your companions from far Gadhun Draat, and I would never want to suggest otherwise. However, time is our enemy and we must make every day count if,” he said softly, his voice dropping to a murmur, “we are to ensure the safety of all those in the valley. I know your companions would gladly agree to help if they could see the severity of our need. I only fear that given their… difficulties in speaking, such understanding will cost us precious time - time we cannot afford.”
Gusje looked at the governor with a pained expression, her hand clenching tightly enough that the tendons were standing out on her wrist. “What would you have me do?”, she asked quietly.
“Chariots usually have an activation sigil,” Vimodi explained, unable to keep the excitement from his expression. “Used to set them in motion. They also have sigils locking the doors. If you could obtain these for me we could make use of the chariot immediately. Your companions will be treated as honored guests, and I hope that in time they will come to understand the correctness of our actions. Surely they, too, would like to see your people safe.”
Gusje hesitated for a long moment, and Tasja could read furious thoughts in the small movements of her face. Vimodi simply smiled, watching, and after an extended silence Gusje sighed and bowed her head. “Their chariot does not use an activation sigil,” she said, her voice small and quiet. “You simply push a plate to activate it.”
Vimodi’s smile grew. “And the locks?”, he prompted her eagerly.
Gusje sagged further. “A small metal key, attached to a larger object so it does not become lost. They keep it in the drawer of the wooden table in the corner of our room.” She looked up at the governor’s beaming face, a hint of defiance creeping into her eyes. “Will you also ask that I take it from them?”
“There is no need for you to go that far,” Vimodi assured her. “I will arrange for the… request to be made. Tasja, you have the terms?”
“Food, animals and land for the Cereinem upon their arrival,” Tasja said shakily, reading his paper. “Assistance for their evacuation to be delivered immediately.” He glanced up at Gusje before reading the next section and found her eyes cold and hard. “Fair treatment and guest right for the Gadhun Draatim travelers, all in return for information about the operation of the Gadhun Draatim chariot and the location of its sigil.” He took the paper from his slate and held it out to Vimodi.
Vimodi snatched the proffered paper and scanned over it, then tore it cleanly in two. Gusje and Tasja gaped, but Vimodi held up the paper to show that it now only contained the declaration of support for the Cereinem. “No need to make your end of the agreement too public, since you’ve already upheld it,” the governor said, winking. “We’ll keep that a private matter.”
He grabbed an ornate seal from its resting place on his desk. “Oh, one more thing, my dear,” he said casually. “I will not add it to the terms as written, since we have trust between us - but I will need you to stay in new quarters this evening. They are more fitting for one of your station, regardless.”
She gave him a lingering, evaluating look before nodding slowly. “Wonderful,” Vimodi said brightly, flourishing the seal. He pressed it to an inkpad, then to the paper. “There, my dear,” he said, sliding the paper over to her with the crest of Sjan Saal still glistening wetly upon it. “If you have no seal you can use your thumbprint as a mark,” he added.
Gusje shot him a look, a flash of annoyance bleeding through her defeated slouch. “I am a daughter of the Madi,” she said stiffly. “Of course I have a seal.” She withdrew her hand from the bag and slipped her bracelet off her wrist to reveal a small saon drai tucked into the braided cordage. She pressed it firmly into the inkpad, then once more onto the paper.
“What an interesting trinket,” Vimodi murmured, his eyes locking on to it.
Tasja couldn’t resist stealing a look at the inked impression of the coin, his eyes tracing over two seven-pointed stars and a reversed curve of flowing script arcing from a stylized jehan flower. In the middle was written ruud in ornate aejha glyphs. “That’s…”, he choked, his eyes widening. “Maja’s grace, an asolan?”
Vimodi’s eyes were alight, staring in naked greed as Gusje tucked the coin back against her ink-smudged wrist. “You’re full of surprises, Gusje Mas,” he said smoothly. “Before this I had heard only rumors about the treasures of the Cereinem.”
Gusje looked up at him with dull, sunken eyes. “There is no treasure that compares to the cerein,” she said quietly. “If there is nothing else, I would grieve for it now.”
“Of course, Gusje Mas,” he said unctuously, inclining his head to her and tapping two fingers to an inconspicuous saon drai affixed to his collar. A low tone sounded from outside and two guards entered, looking at Gusje expressionlessly. Vimodi handed Tasja the signed paper and inclined his head towards the door. “Tasja, please show her to the royal apartments.”
Tasja goggled at the governor, who gave him an irritated jerk of his head that sent him scurrying to Gusje’s side. “Come on,” he whispered, hovering anxiously at her side. “I’ll take you upstairs.”
She followed him out of the office, hunched and shuffling as they walked down the long corridor towards the stairs. It was evening, and the interiors were pitch-black save for the fiery light of qim from above. Two guards tailed them discreetly in the shadows, content to give them the veneer of privacy as long as they did not deviate from their proper course. “Vimodi Ma will keep to his agreement,” Tasja said, trying to sound reassuring. “He’s… well, he is who he is, but once he uses the seal it’s law.”
“I’m counting on it,” Gusje said grimly. Tasja looked back and was shocked to find her standing tall and walking with easy strides beside him. In her hand, now freed from the pouch, she held a black, boxy object.
“You,” Tasja stammered. “You did something.”
“I made an agreement with Vimodi,” she said lightly. “You were there. I told Mark I’d be fine on my own.”
“Wait, but you-”, Tasja said, his mind spinning. He peered at her suspiciously, pointing at the object in her hand. “What does that thing do?”, he hissed.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said quietly, smirking and replacing it in the pouch.
“I might surprise you,” he retorted. “I don’t travel much, but I know a lot. I recognized your asolan right away, didn’t I?”
“You did,” Gusje admitted grudgingly. “Although you lost any favor that gained you by telling Vimodi about it.” Tasja winced, and Gusje elbowed him roughly in the side.
“Showoff,” she teased him. “I’m not making fun of you, Tasja, I’ve never met anyone half as well-read as you.”
“But?”, Tasja retorted, sulking but inwardly ablaze from the compliment.
She smirked at him again. “But there’s no book that would tell you what a radio is.”
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“...in the drawer of the wooden table in the corner of our room,” the radio hissed.
Mark blinked, patting the keychain in his pocket and glancing at the end-table in question. Sure enough, there was a small drawer in its side. “Do we have anything in that drawer?”, he whispered. Jackie got up to check while Tasja hesitantly read the terms of the agreement.
“Nope,” she replied. “Empty.”
“...more fitting for one of your station, regardless,” Vimodi oozed, the delight in his voice apparent even over the radio.
“Cocksucker,” Mark observed sourly. “He’s keeping her under guard until he’s got the key in hand. So much for Plan B.”
“She did lie to him,” Jesse pointed out. “It’s a reasonable precaution.”
Jackie smacked him on the shoulder. “He’s trying to steal our ride,” she said crossly. “He’s fair game.”
“I should have gone with her,” Mark muttered, shaking his head.
Arjun shrugged. “If you had, he wouldn’t have offered terms. There was never any hope of Gusje extracting a promise from him with us on her side, he would have just demanded that we hand over the keys right then and there. As it stands, he’s just given us a concession for something he was going to do anyway. At least now we have advance warning.”
“Ugh,” Mark grunted, burying his face in his hands. “My fucking head. You know, if there had been anywhere else to go I’d say coming here was a mistake.”
“It’s not so bad,” Jackie said optimistically. “I mean, Gusje got what she needed and we know where we need to go next. We got a lot of good info from Tasja and Jesse has a mysterious stalker girlfriend. All we need to do now is quietly get the hell out of Dodge.” She smiled and spread her hands wide, ignoring Jesse’s pained look.
“First things first, Jack,” Mark said, sitting back upright. “I figure Vimodi is a fan of instant gratification, so we’re going to have company sooner rather than later.”
“We should move, then,” Jackie said, grabbing her pack. “Get Gusje out and leave, we need to be gone before they get here.”
Jesse shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “Vimodi needs to find us here, otherwise he’ll know Gusje set him up. He’ll back out of the agreement before it’s public knowledge. He needs to think he’s won at least long enough that his rivals in the council get a copy of the document.”
“So, what, we’re just supposed to let him steal our truck?”, Jackie asked, exasperated.
“He needs to think he has a chance, at any rate,” Arjun mused. “I don’t suppose anyone has any ideas?”
“You think I’d give Gusje the OK to sell us out without a Plan C?”, Mark chuckled. “I figure this will be easy enough, he’s operating under the assumption that we’re pushover nobles and he holds all the cards. He won’t want to use violence, but he’ll try to threaten us with it. We’ll just stand firm, flex a bit and call his bluff. There’s a pretty good chance he won’t try and force the issue on the first try and we can stall him until the agreement with Gusje can’t be reversed.”
“I think we underestimate his greed at our peril,” Arjun said. “Wasn’t it you that said the only thing standing between him and everything he’s dreamed of is us?”
Jackie nodded emphatically. “Arjun’s right,” she said. “You’re counting on him acting smart or at least cautious, but people do stupid shit when they get greedy.”
“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” Mark admitted. “Not saying we shouldn’t have a contingency for him trying to flat-out rob us, just that we should try not to escalate if we can help it. If someone gets seriously hurt our chances of helping the Cereinem go way down.”
“So, what?”, Jackie asked. “I don’t think Vimodi would mind hurting us if he could get away with it.”
Mark thought for a moment, then chuckled and looked over at Jesse. “I just had a terrible idea,” he said merrily. “Remember when Correia nearly got himself busted down to E-1 last year?”
Jesse blinked. “When he rigged the - oh. Mark, no. You just said we shouldn’t escalate.”
Mark flashed his teeth in a predatory grin. “And we won’t. We’ll just give ourselves some options for… proportional response.”
“You paused before you said that,” Jackie noted. “That makes me think it will be a bit disproportionate.”
There was a pause.
“Maybe a bit,” Mark admitted.