XXXV
Race to Abris
In which Bessa learns shocking news as they race to stop an eidolon
The leaves fell, and the chrysanthemums began to bloom in full force before Halie returned, triumphant. As Lady Nensela had asked of him, Tarkhana embedded imperial arcana aboard the fastest of his naval vessels. Together with certain pirates and sea captains, they sought and destroyed Red Dagger fleets. It was this that drew the Fourth Abyssal, Rozvan Lior, back from Erebossa.
Halie pounced, landing on his ship in her dragon form while her brothers besieged it from without. Lior promptly revealed his true form, a grotesque parody of a dragon. Between Halie and her brothers he stood no chance.
“We slew everyone on that ship,” Halie gushed when the group met again at Nensela’s estate. “But I was careful to leave the breath of life in Lior’s body. My brothers dragged him into the sea with them, and from there will take him to Erebossa, where he will come before the Destroyer. I do not expect that to end well for him.”
Only the Fifth Abyssal—and Murena—remained.
“Our backs are covered,” Ziri said. “We can take this fight to the east now, and not be trapped between.”
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The time had come for Bessa to part ways with the theater company. True to his word, the emperor publicly recognized the Honey Cakes, showering them with praise and endorsements. Offers came flooding in, and overnight their stature grew.
Pleased though she was that she had changed their fortunes for the better, Bessa grew wistful at the thought of leaving the company. They made her dreams come true, beyond all she had ever dared to hope for. Until her dying day they would have her gratitude.
But now the day she dreaded had come.
Bessa found Brison on the roof of the townhouse where they were staying. The sun hung low in the sky. Only a few hours of daylight remained, though it was only two hours past noon. The light winds forced Bessa to wrap her shawl tighter around herself. She had chosen wool of deep cerulean to complement the violets she tucked behind her ear.
“Good afternoon,” she began.
Brison, looking out over the city, gave a start at the sound of her voice. “Ruby. I thought you might come up here. Valentis at sunset is gorgeous, isn’t it? A few times I managed to almost be successful enough to come here, on a professional basis for a show. Somehow things always fell through, and I never made it here. And then you came along. You and your amazing stories and ideas. How fortunate for me that you crossed my path.”
She drew even with him. From their vantage point the Sword of Valentis lay to their right, and Rasena across the bay to their left. The sea’s choppy waves and turbulent churn of the tides obliged them to remain for the winter. While Brison might have considered a tour of the empire’s southern reaches, including Eitan, the Sky Guard Mountains were a formidable obstacle. Treacherous enough in the summer, none dared cross the peaks in winter.
Bessa said, “I, too, dreamt of this. What I couldn’t imagine was how to make it happen. Not until I heard about the giants. I told my story in many places, and in Fanuco’s it bore fruit. So I thank you for having the vision to make my play a success.”
“My vision is strong when it comes to money-making stories. Thalia’s spirit breathes through you, as the Pelasgians like to say. Damn good pitch material, I’ll grant you. And as the emperor has fêted us, I don’t see how anything could stop us now. When theater season rolls back around, we shall continue on, to Sirônasse and Tartessia and perhaps even the Cloudwalk, too.”
“I would be gratified if you could go to Silura as well. Half the play happens there, you know.”
“If I could go to Silura. Since when do you talk as if you have no say in things? You’ve been quiet all week. Even Daphne is starting to worry. Talk to me.”
Bessa took a deep breath. Well. Now had come the moment she’d mentally rehearsed for weeks. Brison was exactly the type of man who would question good fortune, and how long it would last. Even so ...
“When I visited the emperor a month ago, I was not alone. A seer was with us, a Seeker’s Own. All along I’ve said our success was by the will of the gods. But our success is not for nothing, and not without cost. I must go.”
Brison stared hard at her. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you always seemed to know more than you were telling. I didn’t question it, since we have done well. Kellis and the curse doll shook me up, but I wanted to believe everything would be fine. And you speak with honey. Now speak the truth.”
“When I walked into Fanuco’s I targeted you, because I needed an acting troupe and excellence was the only option. Did you also notice the timeliness of the play, how news comes to us everywhere of giants and shadow fiends? Too often to be a coincidence, no? There is no happenstance in this matter, including me ‘hearing’ of these giants, and making up a story. I am an instrument, and you have been one as well. One used for a noble purpose. For now this is all I can say.”
Brison looked away, staring at the bay, and the expanse of the city before them. Bessa remained silent. What anger he might feel, what hurt or betrayal, she would not deny his right to it. While she did everything she could to keep him and his people safe, she did expose them to danger, and used them to her own ends. If Kellis or Escamilla had attacked them she would have held herself responsible. No apology could ever be enough.
“So it wasn’t just luck,” Brison said after a while. His stubble scritched again as he stroked it. “I knew our fortune was too good to be true. And what are you going to do now? Do you need another instrument?”
Overcome, Bessa seized his arm, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “You are no game piece to me. I will not blame you if you doubt this. Everything I’ve done I did to protect my family. And when I learned the giants meant to destroy all of Rasena Valentis, I vowed I would bring to light them and their allies. And show others how to defend themselves. That is the part you played, and played well. I have done right by you as best I can. My friends, including the seer I spoke of, helped me protect you.”
His jaw twitched, and he abruptly looked back at the bay. In her imaginings of this moment, she had pictured him enraged. Energetically so. But when Grandmother was angry she grew cold and quiet. What did quiet mean for Brison?
“As for why I’m going east, I must not say right now. I do not know if I will return alive to ever tell you. Watch for news from the east, and you will understand. You will find on your desk two sealed documents. Plays. One is to be opened if the emperor should die. He has … suggestions … for how his death should be portrayed.”
At the mention of the emperor, Brison turned sharply to stare at her. A light sparked in his eyes.
Bessa continued, “When you hear of war in the east, open the other one. In any case, Brison, I wish you to live long and well. I—”
“If you did not have to go east, would you have stayed here?”
The note in his voice … not for the first time she’d heard it from him, and she heard it more often lately. Ohhh, by the gods! Without meaning to she’d entered foreign territory, with no lore or guide to aid her. Guilt welled within her. Recriminations echoed in her mind.
Bessa fingered her shawl and inhaled, revelation dawning. Vermilion gown, cerulean shawl—choosing the colors reserved for married women, as she had done lately, was no coincidence either.
“I could not. When I left my family, officially I was seeking refuge with the man I am betrothed to. If I survive long enough to reach him, my life with him will be very different than this. Yet another reason I have cherished the time I spent with all of you. He’s a red gryphon, and when we marry I must go where he is sent.”
Brison’s chest rose. “So, saying you were spoken for was not to hold unwanted suitors at bay. Simply the truth.”
“The truth.” She paused. “I will carry all of you in my heart, always. But—”
Brison put a finger to her lips, silencing her. “This is my own fault for daring to reach for too much, I suppose. The gods won’t grant me every wish. I wish you well, also, Ruby. I will think of you when I go to the temples, and ask that the gods not discard you once you have served your purpose.” He cleared his throat. “And, if things don’t work out with this other man, you will know where to find me.”
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Between the Star Dragons and Tarkhana’s echomancers, a picture emerged as to what Archelaos was up to in Urashtu, where he was stationed as governor.
If he catches them flat footed and in disarray, with key people unexpectedly absent and precisely the wrong people in their stead, then that doesn’t bode well.
Edana’s words echoed in Bessa’s mind as she listened to the reports.
The governor kept shifting legions around. From a study of a map came an unsettling revelation: he was isolating the Valley of Abris.
Ziri said, “If the giants enter there, they have a straight line to Valentis. Should Abris fall, we’ll lose the Chrysanthemum Road as an important trade route.”
The Chrysanthemum Road led straight to Anshan, a gateway to other parts of the world. Without it, the Karnassus Gate and the Cloud Gate would become choke points.
“Let’s also not forget that the Five we’ve pursued so far are simply the five we know about,” Ziri pointed out.
“What of the Furi?” Edana asked. “Didn’t our working hypothesis suppose that Gagnon intended to misdirect everyone into thinking the Furi were to blame for the giants’ attacks in Silura? What if they are stirred up? If the Gates are taken, the Chrysanthemum Road is cut off, and the Furi control the Borealis Ocean—”
“Then our isolation will be complete,” Ziri finished. “Yes. I’m considering that. Halie captured Rozvan Lior just off the coast of Pelasgos. That’s far enough into the Viridian Sea that any trouble started could have made the emperor concentrate the bulk of the fleet there. Leaving Silura, Sirônasse, and Tartessia vulnerable to attacks coming from the Borealis Ocean.”
“So the fleet needs to move to the Borealis, then?” Edana asked.
“Don’t forget, back in Silura the giants always seemed to come from the direction of the sea,” Bessa added. “We’ve wondered how they were arriving. Portals on ships is the best answer we’ve come up with, and Captain Asher said it was possible.”
Ziri paused. He exchanged a glance with his Valentian legate.
The Valentian replied, “I will ask the emperor to alert all naval vessels, and to bolster the fleet in the Borealis. May the gods help us if we’re wrong. With the sailing season closed, they will need every Venatori and every Marinite priest they can round up to send their ships in time.”
Ziri said, “In the meantime, Archelaos is supposed to go to the fortress at Abris. No doubt to come up with some dazzle to lure the soldiers away, or lull them in some way. We must intercept him.”
Lady Nensela warned, “He will likely try to use the men there as shields against anything we do to remove him. The garrison officers may not listen to a Star Dragon, and we don’t have time to convince them. I will go. The word of a Seeker’s Own is inviolate. If I tell them to arrest their governor, they will do so.” With a glance at Bessa and Edana she added, “Come with me, and bring the emperor’s signet rings. We have a governor to overthrow.”
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They sped on their way, in a carriage emblazoned with an imperial seal. The fire drakes pulling the carriage added to the grandeur, and their authority.
As they went Lady Nensela stopped at each garrison and fortress along the Chrysanthemum Road. She ordered the centurions and draco hydras commanding them to make for the Valley of Abris, “by order of the emperor.”
The officers were only to delay long enough to call the units in the other parts of Urashtu, and the neighboring provinces.
“When we reach Abris, how are we to proceed?” Edana asked. “Archelaos will know we intend to stop him, and he won’t think he has anything to lose by shapeshifting then. A dead garrison is just as good as a deceived or empty garrison.”
“And with that thought, let us hope everyone at Abris is still alive,” Lady Nensela replied. “At least we have reinforcements at our back. As for Archelaos, we have this.” She touched the pouch attached to her belt. “Halie’s salt. And you, Edana.”
“Me?”
“Indeed. Honoria did flee from you,” Lady Nensela said. “Would Archelaos react differently? Hold him at bay while the salt does its work. Once he shifts to his true form the soldiers might help us, but until then, they may obstruct us. Worse, they may attempt to kill him out of sheer panic.”
“But I’m not sure I can do what you’re suggesting,” Edana protested. “I’m not a priestess or a sorceress, or anything like that.”
“Does that matter? You believe the Sayings. I daresay your experiences have only made that belief stronger. This is not the time for doubts. Just do.”
Edana lapsed into silence, pondering the seer’s request.
“Speaking of doubts,” Bessa began, “If they don’t believe the giants are truly dangerous, should we reveal we were at Red Pointe?” From her purse she brought out the engraved, gold-plated disk the governor of Silura had given her and Edana. Carved in high relief with an accurate likeness of a giant, it commemorated their victory at the Battle of Red Pointe.
Lady Nensela gave a start. For a moment she stared at the medallion in Bessa’s hands, then audibly sighed and closed her eyes, murmuring something in Ta-Setian.
“Lady Nensela?” Edana raised an eyebrow.
“By the Seeker, I have missed what is in plain sight,” Lady Nensela replied, speaking Rasenan again. She tapped Bessa’s medallion. “One does not wear a crown before one is made king. And a soldier does not receive honor before he has fought and won the battle. Lah!”
Bewildered, Bessa stared at her medallion, but the seer’s point eluded her. “Yes—that’s true. But ... ?”
Lady Nensela rubbed her temples, as if she had a headache. “My apologies. The drawing you made, Edana, of the six-around-one seal? Bring it now to remembrance in your minds, both of you. At the time you revealed it to us, Edana, you had a persuasive suggestion that it represented the intentions of our enemies.”
“Yes? You don’t think they mean to unleash these horrors upon us?” Edana asked.
“Unfortunately—unfortunately, I now see the seal differently. You said they were circles arranged as a hexagon, with a seventh in the center. Portrait circles, yes? Like this medallion of the giant.” Again she tapped Bessa’s medallion. “Centurions in your legions also have such medallions, worn on their chest to commemorate victories. And if they have seven, they wear them in the six-around-one arrangement.”
Fear dawned now in Bessa’s heart. Did Lady Nensela mean what she thought she meant?
“The winged tigers are known to haunt the forests of Urashtu,” Lady Nensela continued. “Ever since we arrived here we have seen them on flags and emblems. And Archelaos is here. The sphinx is on the seal of the Library of Karnassus—how did I miss that? And Justin Kellis was there. Duke Gagnon was from Sirônasse, and the morvac’h may have represented his activities. The sea dragons fought battles under the sea: where the krakens live, and where Rozvan Lior was stationed. My dear young companions, is it not more likely that the six-around-one seal was not a threat of future evils, but a boast of evils already accomplished? Awards are given after an endeavor is completed, no?”
Again Bessa looked to her medallion, and the fearsome gigalion on its face. A lump grew in her throat, at the thought of a world in which such creatures were rampant and unstoppable. “But what about the falling stars? That hasn’t happened yet.”
“True,” Lady Nensela conceded. “But you’re assuming we have correctly interpreted the significance of the three stars. We may need to reconsider everything.”
“Perhaps Halie will know about the stars. Will she be part of the wave coming behind us?” Bessa asked. Halie and Ziri had remained in Valentis.
“The Gates will be attacked,” Lady Nensela predicted. “Any student of war would anticipate that, and we cannot allow them to fall. Should the Gates remain secure, Ziri will send Halie to us. The trip will be one way, affording us no room for error. We’re to hold on for as long as possible.”
The Fortress of Abris loomed ahead. Anyone coming from Anshan would encounter the fortress on their first stop along the Chrysanthemum Road. Appropriately enough the fortress was designed to look formidable, an excellent representation of the power, and grandeur, of Rasena Valentis.
Between the headquarters’ marble façade and polished copper roof, the fortress gleamed as a beacon, visible for miles. Flags flapped in the brisk wind, two atop the gate posts, one atop the domed basilica. Each flag bore a rampant winged tiger blazing against a deep blue field. Bessa shivered, Lady Nensela’s words echoing in her mind.
The gates opened swiftly as they approached. Two centurions hurried out to meet them.
Bessa and Edana stepped out first. Setting the tone for this next part, they wore enough violet—borrowed from Lady Nensela’s wardrobe—to scream imperial.
To Bessa, Lady Nensela also loaned a luxuriant swan-white chiton of velvet and silk imported from Xia. Bessa wore it draped from one shoulder. Over her bare shoulder Bessa draped a purple shawl diagonally to her hip, and tucked it into a simple gold belt that emphasized the narrowness of her waist. The shawl covered Bessa’s left arm, which meant the dragon torque, a Pendry family heirloom, stood out all the more on her upper right arm.
Dragons hinted of authority and power, precisely why Edana used a dragonesque brooch to enclose her violet shawl in a knot over her heart. The brooch matched the long-sleeved peacock green gown she wore. For added emphasis, the jewel was inlaid with a rose quartz carved in the shape of an oleander, the emperor’s symbol.
Both women prominently displayed their amethyst signet rings, completing their imperial personas.
The two of them flanked the door, framing Lady Nensela’s exit from the carriage. The seer’s pleated violet gown billowed behind her. Her arms were bare, save for the pearls she’d wrapped around her forearms. She seemed impervious to the chill, indeed, the officers reacted to her expression as if she had brought the chill with her.
They were ushered inside straightaway.
“Your Grace, may I announce you to our commander?” one man asked. He was dressed in green and black livery, and indicated he was the seneschal.
Bessa reached into her shawl and whipped out a square of folded parchment, sealed. “Give him this forthwith. For his eyes only.”
The seneschal visibly swallowed. “Yes, my lady. I will see to it, my lady.” He clutched the parchment to his chest and cleared his throat. “May I take you to the Great Hall? It is on my way, and you will find it comfortably away from the draft in the air.”
“We do not wish to be kept waiting,” Edana said coldly. “Archelaos. Bring him immediately to us in the hall you speak of. And make certain we are not disturbed.”
“Forgive me,” a centurion said. “Archelaos is not here. He was to arrive, but he seems to have been delayed.”
Oh? Bessa and Edana glanced at each other. In keeping with her act Lady Nensela remained silent, her face impassive.
“And your commander. Is he absent as well?” Bessa demanded. She schooled her face to give nothing away. If Archelaos had managed to remove the commander, then nothing stood between the giants and victory.
“My lady,” the seneschal hurriedly said, “Red Gryphon Lysander Xenakis remains in command of Abris.”