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The chariot driver had refused to go any faster than a plodding clop through the streets of the city no matter how I pleaded – the little toad of a man had said it wouldn’t be “proper” for the low folk to see their heroes rushing about as if their hair were on fire. I certainly felt as if my hair were on fire. I could have sworn that the letter I’d been given said that the procession from the city started at the stroke of noon, but when I’d come puffing up to the Palace gates, certain I was an hour early, some seneschal had looked at me as if I were shit scraped off a shoe and told me the party of victors had started through the city ten minutes before. The fellow could eat my fist, as far as I was concerned, and so could all the other idiots who cared about pomp and ceremony, but I worried that if I wasn’t there when things began they wouldn’t let me in.
Fortunately, once we cleared the city wall the driver clicked his tongue, shook the reins, and brought the magnificent horse pulling the gaudy contraption up to proper speed. I could see the cloud of rising dust in the distance where Basil and the others were closing in on the forest.
“Can we go any faster?” I called up to the fellow.
He threw a crooked smile over his shoulder. “Hold tight, young master.”
The horse surged forward at his yell of “Hi-yaa!” and I gripped the railing before me with white-knuckled hands. Who had come up with the idea of not having a back on these things? I wondered how many people had been tossed out of chariots and died as I prayed to the Twins that I wouldn’t be next. That said, we were closing the distance. Maybe the man wasn’t such a toad after all.
Peeking over my shoulder without loosing my grip, I looked back at the city of Treledyne. I’d never been outside its walls before, and from here it looked… beautiful. All towers and domes gleaming white in the noonday sun like a vision of Order and goodness. Anybody seeing it from here would never guess that thousands of people like me scraped out a miserable existence in the Lows within. Can something this perfect exist without hiding a rotten core? The evidence told me no, but still I hoped that a yes might lurk somewhere nearby, waiting to be discovered. If I managed to turn the Lows into a better place, that wouldn’t ruin the rest of the city, would it?
The towering trees of whatever forest it was rushed up at us as the heaving horse in front ate the distance. The sturdy, bricked surface of the road – the driver had called it The Merchant Road – veered southward an arrow’s fall shy of the trees, but where the road turned, we plunged straight onward onto a packed-earth track that left my teeth chattering and my fingers numb on the railing. Once I was among the trees I could see that the trunks of the biggest ones were so big that it’d take four or five men with linked hands to go all the way around. They towered insanely high overhead, muting the bright sunlight into a dappled shades of green and blue.
“Not far now!” the man called cheerily back at me. “They won’t even know you were late.”
Thinking back to the scowling, hardened face of the Grand Marshal as I’d seen him after the whole vampire-tried-to-kill-the-King scrum at the Tournament, I doubted that my absence had gone unremarked, but there was nothing to be done now but show up and hope. The Lows needed a Big Man, and having a handful of good demon Souls wasn’t enough – I needed to learn how to lead. The ruling class of Treledyne could teach me that and who knew what else besides.
The road branched a dozen times inside the wood, but my driver raced on, certain of his path, and before too many more minutes had passed, he was whoa-ing the horse as we entered a huge clearing of churned earth being packed flat by horse hooves and milling functionaries. Somehow five victors from the Rising Stars Tournament required a hundred extra people to run this little War Camp of the King’s. Up in front of all the quietly-working aides stood the Grand Marshal next to his terrifying lion-eagle thing, speaking loudly to a line of young folk standing at attention. I was supposed to be standing there. I stumbled down from my chariot, my legs feeling strange on the solid ground after the jarring they’d taken from the rough ride. I shook out my feet, trying to make sure I wouldn’t trip into the mud in front of everyone.
“Give ‘em the business, Master Hull,” the driver said conspiratorially.
I shot him a surprised glance. I hadn’t known he knew my name, much less wished me well.
He shrugged and gave that lopsided grin. “You won me more’n half a crown during the duels,” he said. “Humble folk like to see one of their own turn up the fancy ones.”
I hesitated. This man had probably never spent a night of his life sleeping rough. His idea of humble folk was closer to what I would have called those well-off merchant bastards not too long ago. Still, when I thought about it, he probably had more in common with me than any of these fools from the Palace. I was inclined to check my pockets and raise my fists when anyone treated me better than dirt, but that was my problem, not his. He might look like a toad, but he wasn’t so bad. I gave him a mock salute and a smile. “I’ll do my best.”
I shuffled through the crowd as unobtrusively as I could and slipped into place at the end of the line next to Esmi. Her waterfall of curls was unmistakable from behind, as was Prince Gerad’s finery. I didn’t recognize the other girl offhand. Esmi gave me a friendly wink as I fell in beside her. It took a moment of searching to find Basil, who was standing off to one side right next to what could only be his brother. The fellow had the same blond mop on his head but stood half a hand taller. He was too handsome by half and wore a casual smile that spoke of both confidence and bored amusement. He dressed nearly as well as Gerad. I disliked him immediately. Basil, for his part, gave me a tight-lipped smile and a nod that somehow said You’re late, you twit, but I’m glad you’re here before glancing back to his brother, then to Esmi, then back at the taller boy. He looked strung tight as a lute wire.
“The highest wheat gets harvested first, and it’s no different for us,” the Grand Marshal boomed, continuing his diatribe without bothering to notice me. “Your dueling skill has set you apart from the rest. You are beginning to understand that you are different; the other young folk defer to you and give you your way. For some of you,” he said, pointing at Gerad, “it has ever been thus. For others,” he said, skewering me with his steel-gray eyes, “the sensation is new enough that you have yet to adjust. Or learn to show up on time.”
I wasn’t sure whether to shake in my boots or make a rude gesture, so I split the difference and held his gaze as levelly as I could. This was a man who was used to being obeyed, and he could roll over me in a heartbeat if he chose. Even without a clue about what cards he held I knew that was true, right down to my bones.
“Yes, you’re well on your way to joining the ranks of the elites of Treledyne, and if you’re anything more than blindingly stupid, that will bring you status, deference, and money for the rest of your days. But by Fortune’s beard and Fate’s good right hand, I will not let you squander it without giving something in return. You wish to be great? You want the adoration of the masses? Then you will earn it, you little bastards, and that starts here. My War Camp will teach you to follow, and then it will teach you to lead. No safe, dainty Dueling Domes out here. No preference for one student over another, not even for you, Your Highness. We’re in the business of killing folks, and you’ve just been conscripted to be at the front of the line.”
I liked the thought of this gruff old bear tearing into Gerad, but I wasn’t sure I believed it. And being the front of the line didn’t sound so great, either. I was happy to take on a little extra risk if it meant new, high-quality cards, but I had enough danger waiting for me on my home turf that taking on more didn’t seem entirely wise.
“You will be hammered!” he roared. “You will be shaped. When I get done with you, no matter how you started, you’ll be captains in the King’s army under the direction of my colonels and majors who were winners in years past.”
My guts clenched and I felt a spike of panic. Captains? This wasn’t what I signed up for! I’d known the top 5 went to War Camp, but I’d thought it might be something like a summer dueling retreat for rich noble shits where I could fleece idiots out of their cards and maybe eat some good food while I was at it. Instead, I’d been shanghaied into the army of the man I hated most in the whole world: my father, the mad, cunning King Hestorus of Treledyne. The one I’d sworn to kill. And now they wanted me to go to war for him? I felt a sudden, powerful urge to turn on my heel and disappear into the forest. I didn’t like this blustering general or anything he stood for. Why put myself through this?
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“Leave if you like,” the man said loudly, almost as if he’d read my mind. “I want no weaklings or cowards. But if you stay the course, finish my training, and rise through your service, you will become one of the trusted few with access to the King and a say in the affairs of the kingdom of humanity. You have heard that the King wishes to establish a new human city far to the West? It will need a Governor and its own ruling houses. Who better than those who distinguish themselves in the King’s service?”
I cared less than a rat’s fart for noble titles and land grabs, but his words reminded me why I was here in the first place: to elevate myself, to become more than I was, and to learn all the things I so desperately lacked. I could play along and pretend to want a captaincy if it meant more opportunities for those things. And if Hestorus did actually decide to send us to war, well, they’d find out exactly how well they did when one of their captains disappeared in the middle of the night.
The hard-bitten general waved to a functionary behind us, and a woman in Palace robes stepped forward bearing a fancy, oversized book with beaten gold and huge gems adorning its cover. He muttered a few words to the woman, and she deftly flipped the monstrous thing open, balancing its bulk perfectly on one forearm as she turned pages with the other. Each page had twelve silken pouches sewn into each side, and silver, gold, and ruby glinted at the top of each pouch. My mouth suddenly salivated as I realized the book was full of cards. This was one of the King’s card repositories, and I’d have given my pinky finger for a crack at it when no one was looking. The woman pulled forth a card and handed it over with a bow.
The Grand Marshal held the card out and walked past each of us slowly, letting us see what he held.
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“This will be your home for the next three months,” he said. “Normally this card is reserved for the highest officers of the army to use during active engagements, but we don’t have any of those at the moment, and the King cares enough about what we do here that he gives me leave to use it for your training. Many a loyal soldier in the army has served for decades and never set foot inside. Don’t forget it.”
He tucked the card behind his ear, putting it in his Mind Home, and in moments he had enough Order out to summon the Relic. The mist of summoning rose in a broader area than I’d ever seen before, covering the entire huge clearing before us, obscuring the churned, broken earth under a rolling fog of white. A handful of servants and functionaries who found themselves standing up to the ankles in mist near the edges of the summoning area stepped lively to stand clear before the Relic materialized.
And materialize it did, suddenly standing stories high in front of us, walls of burnished steel rising five stories in front of me where only empty air had stood a moment before. It was a full-on fort with towers on each corner, a breastwork up top, an enormous gate leading to the interior, and a tower no less than ten stories high standing directly in the middle of the miniature city. Every last inch of it gleamed, untarnished steel reflecting the sun.
“Don’t lean on the walls during the afternoon,” the Grand Marshal said dryly, looking up at the fort with something like fondness. “It’s good way to get scorched.”
I caught Esmi’s eye, and it was popped just as wide as mine. I’d never heard of a Relic this large. I’d never imagined such a thing could exist. And it was a Mythic, meaning it could stay summoned for months at a time. I’d thought we were going to tramp about in the mud all summer, but it turned out we had our own citadel of steel.
The general swung himself onto his griffon’s back. I stood well back as it pranced and squawked fiercely. “Some of us have an army to attend to,” he shouted. “Edaine will give you the details and get you settled in. I will be here regularly, though, checking on you. Watching you. You might be useless shits right now, but by the Twins I’ll make something of you, and you’ll thank me for it. Work hard. Be smart. Don’t die.”
With that, his mount leapt into the air and bore him skyward. He circled the central tower once and streaked off back toward the city. All of us were left gaping at the air, overpowered by the sheer presence of the man and the beast he rode.
“All right then,” a brisk female voice said, drawing our eyes downward. It was a woman with dusky skin in shining armor and a winged helm. She was standing in front of three others who wore the same, if perhaps a little less ornate and grand. “Grand Marshal Jorin expects us to have all in order before he returns this evening. If I could give any of you a word of advice: do not disappoint him. Let us enter, find our quarters, and convene at the base of the central tower in an hour’s time for our first lesson on how the King’s army functions and where you will fit in it. The central tower quarters are for instructors and visitors; choose your rooms from the ones that touch the outer wall. Everyone will have a roommate. Don’t make me separate you or deal with any childish bickering; you will not like how I resolve such things. No sneaking into each others’ bunks, either. You can get leave to visit the city and go to the brothels if you need – while we’re here, we’re working, not mooning over each other. Understood?”
With a murmur of assent, we all shuffled toward the front gate, which swung open on silent hinges.
“It’s a pleasure to see you, Hull,” Esmi said, falling in beside me. “Though, to be perfectly frank, I’d hoped for the pleasure some weeks earlier.”
I checked a sigh and shrugged. “I know you all said I should visit, but what’s the point? I knew we’d see each other here.”
“The point is to show your friends that they are important to you,” she said, a hint of tartness in her voice. “Anyone who didn’t know better would suspect you of poor character.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Poor character is exactly what I’ve got, though.”
“Nonsense,” she said, sniffing. “You’re just not used to having friends who want your company.”
That was true enough. “If I wanted to visit someone in the Lows, there was no knocking on doors or sending letters to arrange the date. I just showed up in the spot they used to stay out of the rain and hoped they didn’t stab me when I got there.”
The hard lines of her mouth softened. “I suppose the circumstances of your upbringing do require some extra consideration.”
“Thanks, I think.” I looked around. “I expected Basil to be giving me this tongue-lashing. Where’s he gone?”
She voiced a sigh that held more emotion than the question seemed to call for. “He’s button-holed his brother Gale for a private conference, which… well, nevermind. Consider me his mouthpiece for the moment.”
We passed inside and paused to get our bearings. Inside the containing wall stood a wide staging area and a handful of buildings clustered around the wide central tower. The steel underfoot was shaped exactly like cobblestones, but just like everything else, it was all of hardest steel.
“I’ll have to see if one of the women among the paladin trainees wants to bunk with me,” Esmi said. “Military life might be a tad less proper and prudish than nobles circles, but they won’t want men and women sharing rooms, especially with that warning the High Paladin gave.”
“There are paladin students?” I asked. “I thought it was just us five.”
“Indeed not,” she said, giving her brilliant smile. “Three inductees from the militant order of the Church of the Twins, freshly returned from their academy, three from the Deepkin tribes, and three of the elves – though they’ve not arrived yet, strange to say.”
“Huh. Wasn’t expecting that.”
She lowered her voice, checking to make sure we weren’t overheard. “The King may seem fey and silly, but he still cultivates humanity’s alliances with great care. I sometimes suspect there’s more to the man than most think.”
I pressed my lips shut and nodded, feeling a sourness in the pit of my stomach. I was sure Basil had told her of my bastard origins, but I could tell she wasn’t thinking about who she was talking to.
Esmi saw my face and grimaced. “Forgive me. I’m not used…” She put a hand on my arm. “That was thoughtless of me.”
“It’s fine,” I said, shrugging. “Probably best to keep acting as if I knew nothing about it, yeah?”
“Indeed. Still, I’ll be more careful.” She clasped my hand warmly. “Come sit with Basil and me during our class. We all have much to discuss.”
I nodded, a smile creeping over my face before I knew it. “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t visit. It really is good to see you. Both of you.”
She left, and I set about finding a place to bunk. I saw Palace servants hovering around one door and knew that Gerad was setting up inside. I wondered if anyone would have the stones to bunk with him. I was tempted for a moment out of sheer spite to bull my way in, but wisdom quickly prevailed. Hestorus had warned me that Gerad would likely threaten my life now that he knew my parentage, and sleeping next to him sounded like a bad idea.
All of the nobles had servants and at least two trunks of clothes with them; I’d brought nothing but the clothes on my back and the cards in my Mind Home. I cursed as I realized that this was meant to be a full-time encampment, not an afternoon diversion where everyone returned to their homes at night. I couldn’t afford to neglect the Lows and not be seen for the next three months. I’d need to find a way out on a regular basis so I could sneak back to the city and take care of business in the Lows. I’d just started; I couldn’t abandon them now. Too many days gone and I’d go back only to find Harker in charge of everything and myself with a knife in my back.
I took a stroll around the enclosure with an eye toward an easy exit. There were two-man huts –all metal, of course – clustered against the outer wall to the east and west sides, with wide gates dominating the north and south. I noticed that the irregularly spaced huts butted up against the inner base of the guard towers at each corner, and that the metal walls were shaped like stones. It was almost as if this had been a regular stone-and-wood fort at some point that had then been magically turned to steel. One way or the other, the wall over the hut in the northeast corner had several handy stone-metal protrusions facing the guard tower that would make for easy climbing in the night. With a little luck and some quiet work, I could scale the wall up to the walkway that ringed the fort without being seen, then use my Sucking Void and throw myself down on the outside.
And how will you get back in, smart guy? I shook my head at myself. One thing at a time. I walked into the hut, claiming it for my own.
A strange little fellow was reclined on the steel pallet to the left. He was as small as a child, but thick like a man, covered in black roughspun and hobnailed boots. His nose, forehead, chin, and nearly every exposed inch of him was lumpy, grayish, and rock-like.
“Well, aren’t ye jest the ugliest, smoothest little fae whelp I ever clapped eyes on?” he crowed. “Stuck sharin’ beds with a stinking human. Me clutch would grind my gears jest to hear it.”
“Twins twist my stones,” I sighed.
My roommate was a dwarf.