Chapter 52
May all rest in peace
Cities State Alliance
On the road to Veneria Antilene averted two more assassination attempts. Five of the adventurers and servants died. The number of Ijaniya members captured amounted to zero.
The modus operandi of the attackers did not follow a precise pattern, but more a lightning-fast improvisation that took advantage of a flexibility impossible to predict.
If the first time they had struck just when the fog had made passage perilous, then the second time struck home the true nature of their journey when their assailants had taken advantage of a meal break to launch their assault. On the third, the assassins had waited until the very night, knocking down two sentries before anyone had managed to raise the alarm.
Elaina and her attendants were saved each time by the half-elf. And each time, Antilene had seen her efforts dissolve; the self-sacrifice of Ijaniya's followers in not getting caught, by any means possible, was astonishing even to her.
By now, the demonic mask that covered the faces of the cult members was indelibly imprinted on Antilene's mind. Just useless ornaments, unable to suggest where a mixture capable of taking the lives of such trained bodies with such ease came from.
Killers jealous of their secrets, their equipment was of considerable workmanship, but nothing that could reveal something that had to remain hidden.
"Damn!" That word was repeated by Dionegis an incalculable number of times. The knight in Elaina's service always managed to overpower his opponents, but never in sufficient time to reach his lady's side when it was needed. "No matter how many we catch, how we immobilize them. They are always so frighteningly quick to swallow poison, or to stab themselves in the chest with a blade. Monsters, what is the point of wearing those masks?"
His complaints continued to be directed only at the void.
"The laggard knight," Thekla had labeled him. Perhaps too cruel an epithet, but not entirely out of place. The swan knight was always ready to take up the sword first, and only ready to lay it down hours after the danger had been averted.
Yet even his devotion had not prevented the two attendants from noticing that, every time, his attention was caught by a diversion, while it was the dear and valiant Lady Fouche -that's what she had taken to calling her Elaina- who curbed the most dangerous attempts, who stood as a shield between the halfling and the most ruthless members of Ijaniya.
"Without Lady Fouche, I would have already died countless times!" That soon became Lady Orestes' favorite line. The halfling had attached herself to the half-elf like an octopus, bringing discomfort to the latter.
Antilene did not know how to react to that affection. She shook her head, and offered words of thanks, but never with real transport.
"Our lady has never had friends of her age," Kilmestra confided to her, one of the last evenings when the cold of winter was still biting. "No wonder she sees you as a reference point, given your skill and experience. You are like an older sister in her eyes. Just enough to be admired and imitated."
Both the attendant and the half-elf had remained outside the carriage, wearing just simple cotton travel suits. Antilene was also wearing her equipment, under her clothes. Whether this also applied to the other woman was not easy to determine.
"I can't say it's an unpleasant feeling, but it certainly makes me slightly awkward. Besides, Lady Orestes already has a few female figures that should inspire her, no?" Who the half-elf was referring to was obvious.
Kilmestra, like Antilene, intended to enjoy the remaining coolness of winter before the heat of summer set in again. Her shoulders were bare, trembling gently at the touch of the boreal breeze.
"It's not the same," she replied. "You are aware of much, but you do not understand this, Lady Fouche. Curious."
At Antilene's urging, the lady in waiting remained silent.
"Sometimes, a secret is more interesting when it is left for others to discover, don't you find? Each piece slowly falling into place at the due time, until what seemed dark and incomplete becomes a given."
"I'd rather know everything now. But I will not insist." And she did not.
Antilene remained looking at the stars, for once not alone.
When they reached Veneria, Antilene could see the mayor's splendid palace. The façade was completely covered in ivory, extrapolated from the tusks of what had been called an Evil Deity in the chronicles, but which the half-elf suspected was just an ordinary herd of elephant men, unfortunate exiles from the disaster of two hundred years earlier.
The mayor himself, a tabaxi of a size definitely out of proportion for his race, welcomed them with full honors. The banquet set up was modest, much to their relief; most of the city's remaining resources being split half for military expenses, half to help those affected by the war.
"All the major politicians of the Union are on their way to Karnasus for your marriage with Prince Alexander, Lady Orestes. It will be an event that has never been seen before."
"Thank you for the kind words and hospitality," Elaina had replied, with decidedly impeccable manners. Antilene was not accustomed to the... intricacies of political life. The amount of cutlery and its use was disorienting for someone accustomed for most of her life to eating meals alone.
The halfling, on the other hand, knew which dish to match each course, from the forks for the fresh salad of Orcleans to small spoons for the tiny -and delicious- manticore milk puddings.
And as a conversationalist Elaina was no less. The halfling had been taught at length about the relationships that bound every Union family of note, even the most insignificant details.
"My father told me a lot about your racing past. Many got rich betting on your talent."
"Ahahaha, my racing career is now a thing of the past. I'm not as young as I used to be."
"But if you are still in your prime. I have no problem believing that you would still make your mark in competitions... as soon as these resume."
"I can only hope it will be as soon as possible. It is the task of the faithful to pray, and the task of the gods to ignore their pleas."
The news in town agreed: the centaurs were ready to avenge the snubs they had suffered recently.
When asked by Antilene if he feared the arrival of the Equestrian King, the tabaxi replied with absolute calm. War was something to be kept distant from that place.
"Just as the Great Plains are preparing their troops, we are preparing ours. The end of winter is a few weeks away, until then they will not be so reckless as to challenge the fortifications of Grand Wythes and West Garth in a siege, even a short one. And the sea route is impossible, the centaurs are not experienced sailors, and the Orcneas fleet prevents their passage."
The half-elf listened to the explanation, with little conviction. She did not allow herself to pry into such affairs, in any case.
The mayor even offered to accompany them on their journey, volunteering his guard at their disposal.
"There are still a few days of marching left. The remnants of the winter season are still rough. I would be glad to share the duties of the journey with your company."
They found themselves forced to reject the mayor's proposal, with some half-baked excuse. Neither Antilene, nor Dionegis or Elaina's attendants trusted that generous proposal.
"Oh, as you wish." Fortunately, the mayor did not insist. More than anything else, Antilene had the feeling that he was relieved. Or maybe the Tabaxi were so stupid that they smiled at any nonsense.
"Perhaps we should have accepted," the halfling said at dinner that night. The inn where they were staying was strangely empty, and except for a few solitary guests, not a fly flew.
Antilene had no time to counter-argue. At the first sip of wine offered, she realized it was poisoned. The poison stung her body, a sensation similar to the sting of an annoying mosquito, the effect of which disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.
It had no effect on the half-elf, but it was hard to say whether the same applied to the other members of the company.
"Lady Fouche, let me heal you," Thekla offered, but Antilene was already far away.
Breaking into the kitchens, she found the footman who had brought the poisoned wine. A sheepish man, all frightened, who soon turned out to be innocent. Like him, every other worker in the kitchens was unaware of the murder attempt. Someone had tampered with the bottle without their knowledge.
That incompetence would be punishable by capital punishment, but Antilene found it wiser to let it go for that time to avoid creating a mess out of what was already a complicated situation. And, at least, she finally had a sample of the poison in her hands for analysis.
"We must leave now. This place is not safe…"
"Our servants are tired," Kilmestra had objected.
"Better tired than dead," Antilene had replied steadfastly. Elaina agreed with the half-elf, and with her Dionegis, still pale in the face from failing to notice the poison.
"Anyone who cannot continue will be left behind," the knight had proposed. In truth, he had come to suspect the very adventurers they had hired, who had not checked with due care that the food had not been tampered with. Had it been incompetence on their part? Or was it something else? "We don't need dead weight."
Eventually, with some resistance, at the stroke of midnight they were on their travels again, leaving no one behind.
They arrived at the city gates without any particular problems, ready to be inspected by the city guard. Everything seemed to be going well, without any particular hiccups.
Except that the captain of the guard drew a dagger just as he was offering the lady of the caravan his greetings. It was Kilmestra's intervention that disrupted all his plans. The attendant parried the blow intended for her lady, blocking the assailant's hand before he could carry out the deed.
However, not everything came to harm. Finally, Antilene managed to catch one of the assassins before he managed to eliminate himself.
The half-elf pulled out all his teeth with extraordinary speed to avoid any nasty surprises. Then she regrew them just as quickly with a spell, to make his speech not a continuous babbling. She also noticed that he wore a magic necklace under his breastplate, which altered his features.
Meanwhile, the rest of the guardhouse was, as one might expect, in turmoil.
They found the real captain stunned in a nearby tavern, completely stripped of his armor, but all in all still well.
The same merciful fate was not granted to the one who had taken his likeness.
"Speak," Antilene ordered, once her work was done. "And don't you dare lie. I will know." Once again, the assailant did not carry anything relevant with him. The half-elf had dared to hope for a letter, or anything that might serve as a clue to the conspiracy.
"I have nothing to say to someone like you. An assassin does not sell out his companions. The demon's head will prosper even without me."
"Bravo, that's the spirit," Antilene complimented him on his camaraderie. "I have to thank you for making it fun," then she allowed herself a couple of minutes alone with him, without the prying gaze of her other companions.
When she had finished, the half-elf returned with everything she had managed to extract from him, which was…
"Nothing. The members of the order receive their assignments through intermediaries, who in turn are contacted by other members, in an almost impossible-to-trace chain. He himself knew nothing more than that he had to eliminate the woman in this group who attracted too much attention."
"That would be me?" Elaina had asked. A halfling was so rare that she certainly attracted attention. Little Lady Orestes, or...?
"Probably... Still, there was something strange about this attempt. It was sluggish, poorly organized."
The others understood her doubts, but did not entirely share them.
"It only failed because of Kilmestra's timely intervention and yours, Lady Fouche," argued Thekla, tending her companion. The dagger had been poisoned, but both attendants had proved more than once that they were no mere servants on the journey. Kilmestra had not even been touched. The speed she had shown in reacting had been impressive, Antilene thought. "After all these attempts resolved into nothing, it is only natural that our pursuers would begin to get desperate."
Antilene was not convinced, but considered it wise not to continue. After handing over their prisoner to the garrison of Veneria, they set out again, with the light of the moon to guide them. In the days that followed, a flat calm was the only thing that accompanied their traveling.
They arrived in Karnasus without further complications.
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Prince Alexander was handsome, no doubt. Strong and vigorous, he had a sincere smile, and impeccable manners, like a perfect gentleman.
"My lady Orestes, I note with pleasure that the journey was to your liking." His blue hair undulated like sea water on a placid morning, and his torso looked as if it had been sculpted especially to be geneflushed in an impeccable hand-kiss. That he had managed to impress Elaina with a simple movement of his pelvis was not so strange.
"You do me too much honor, my prince." The halfling had been placed at the center of attention of a grand welcome party. Nobility and great merchants of Karnasus, and probably many other Union cities as well, were to share that intimate moment with the two betrothed.
A moment taken from a dream, a moment to be preserved in eternity.
The royal guard patrolled through the streets, the silver blending with the cobalt blue of the cloaks forming a parade of lights, and the sound of drums and chants made that gathering an ode to a splendor never lost.
For that was a demonstration of power, first and foremost. A way for the Prince and his allies to show that they were still strong, that the Union was still able to stand proudly before enemies, and friends. And much could be said about Alexander Arrideo Hephaistion Argades, but it could not be said that he did not know how to be loved.
The food was falling from the trays, too much of it was on them, and the wine was pouring, flooding the cups and the air in the same way with red and sweet rivers. So much was flowing, that one would think there was no war, that there was no danger at all. Only joy, only love and only hope for the future.
Antilene tried to stand back, watching boredly for something to distract her. Unconsciously, she was looking for some assailant hiding behind the beautiful smiles, the roaring applause, the trumpets blowing with impetus and the confetti littering the hall.
Ijanya's assassins had tried four times to hit them during the trip, and four times they had seen through their plans. They had used poisons and enchanted objects, ready for anything to achieve their result; they had struck in the dark, in the deserted streets, covered by the thickest snow.
At that point, safe within the walls of Karnasus, it would have been difficult for them to strike. The audacity to attempt a final assault just days before the wedding was not only foolhardy, but even counterproductive.
By now, the alliance would have been sealed.
'Still, something doesn't add up,' was all the half-elf could think. An omen of death accompanied that occasion that should have celebrated life itself. And, judging by it, someone shared her concerns. 'The swan knight, a few steps away from his lady. The two attendants, who never left her side. Or perhaps some of the guests. Any one of them could be a potential murderer.'
From a purely formal point of view, Antilene had performed the task required of her. Lady Orestes had arrived safe and sound, and the prince showed such awe for his future wife that he could almost have fooled those present with the veracity of his emotions.
'Maybe I'm just being paranoid.'
"Is something bothering you, my Queen?" Agravaine had greeted her as soon as she had crossed the city walls. Her sister wore a cotton dress in anonymous colors, which did not, however, make her disfigured amidst the ostentatious luxury. A placid beauty, harmonious and inconspicuous; no less deserving of regard.
"There is much that worries me," the half-elf replied, perking up her ears. The prince had begun his speech. When would he finish? A contemplation left to the wise men.
Was Antilene a sage? Perhaps not so much, to see where she was right now.
"The Equestrian King is marching, we are told!" The voice was imperious and thunderous, a storm hitting the rocks in the quietest night. "Let him march on! Let the great plains be repelled as we have done in the past! We have more important things to think about, don't we? United, under one banner, we shall triumph! Let my future union with Lady Orestes also be the covenant that seals a renewed brotherhood between the twelve cities!"
The prince's enthusiasm soon turned into the enthusiasm of everyone present. Elaina lowered her head, blushing like an erupting volcano. She murmured only a simple: "as my lord wishes," before being absorbed by that newfound ferment. Dionegis was at her side, kept well apart with Thekla and Kilmestra, the attendants.
The knight was composed, the attendants a river of enthusiasm. The knight placed his hand on his sword, the attendants held up their lady's dress. The knight was in his place, the place he was owed, and the attendants were in their rightful place, the place they felt was their own.
While the knight kept his gaze down, the other two women applauded loudly, paving the way for more of the same. The thump became thunder, and the thunder became roar. A fragment that turned out to be a hurricane!
"When the celebrations are over, there will be war. The last one. And when the war is over, this wedding can begin. Really begin." A subtext inciting rebirth. After death, life. A simple equation, the complexity of which even a child could grasp.
And Prince Alexander was not a child. Prince Alexander was now a king. And a king needed his queen. And with a queen, someone more.
In the context of a marriage, the wish was clear. In the context of a military alliance, the warning left no room for doubt or second thoughts.
"Today we sing, tomorrow we will celebrate. The day after that, we will spill our blood," Alexander's clothes were a reminder. The lord of Karnasus wore a resplendent cuirass, with golden streaks above every light, his pure white cloak fluttering at the incitement of his speech. "And then, only then, when all things are accomplished, will we be able to return to our homes, our hearts unburdened, our souls comforted by our sacrifices, and freedom as our future lover. We will be reunited with our sons and daughters, those we protect now and will embrace in the future!"
The prince was not alone either. In the middle of the room, his glittering presence was contended with Sir Niles and Mirina. Like the prince, the minotaur champion and the dark knight sported radiant armor, leaving only austere and serious faces uncovered. Faces of war, faces of battle. To see them, one could have said that the field of conflict was the palace itself, and that the guests would be those whom their swords and axes would claim.
Yet someone was always close to Alexander; a second shadow that did not detach itself from its master. The scribe: Dinocrates. An insignificant little man, whose small, treacherous eyes rested glances of enquiry and disapproval on everyone present. It was easy to imagine from whose mind had come the act that Alexander now performed before his guests.
Did they count enemies? Or were they counting friends, those eyes? And which group did Antilene fall into?
"Lady Cabelia wants to speak to you, when it is all over," Agravaine whispered in Antilene's ear. In the midst of all that noise, for a moment she almost paid no attention, so faint were those words.
"I will be glad to hear it," the half-elf said. The required raising of the tone was unpleasant for her throat. She was not used to the noise, Antilene. She was used to large, empty halls with only a few people addressing her in measured, controlled words.
She was accustomed to the voice of the undead, which knew no variation of timbre, no outpouring of emotion. Was she perhaps also an undead, having reached that point? "Honestly, the sooner I can retreat into the tranquility of a private conversation, the sooner I will feel comfortable." And, for once, thought and word coincided. Kista could prove to be an appreciable listener and confidante; exchanging a pleasant chat with her would prove enjoyable.
Antilene saw the mayoress of Bebard in the right wing of the hall, together with other important authorities of the Union seated on a row of thirteen seats, the middle one left empty. None of the twelve cities that made up the Union could tower over the others. The old queen of Ris was also with them, as the mayor of Veneria and the apeman magistrate of Orcleans. And with them, many other strangers whom Antilene could not identify.
The queen whispered something into the apeman's ears, and he saw the fury take control of his body.
Fury that was desisted, and soon returned to an artificial calm.
"It seems that things are not going as smoothly as our host would have us believe."
"Prince Alexander is trying to prove himself in control, but the whole Union is worried," her sister explained, keeping her voice low. "The wedding will not be enough to convince the most skeptical. Indecision is still rampant in many cities."
"And indecision is the last desirable thing when one is at war. What have you heard about the Equestrian King's troops?"
"That there are thousands of them. More than the Union can field. A ratio of three to one, in the best of cases. And that is only in case there is cohesion between the twelve cities. They will be on Union territory in a few days, winter or not. Their druids know how to cope with the harshest climate, and the season is now in its twilight stages."
A number that certainly left no room for optimism, whichever way one looked at it. Was that show of jubilation just a last wish? The last whim before the end? Understanding how fear caused the mechanisms of thought to intertwine was, at times, difficult for the half-elf to figure out.
"I'll have to give them a hand, in that case." First, Antilene focused on Elaina. The halfling had accepted the hand of the future groom, and was performing with him a dance that captured every bit of attention. The prince was awkward, perhaps even clumsy, but he knew how to show off every smallest movement, how to make the mistake appreciable.
In a way, the blunders seemed to be made on purpose. A clumsy attempt calibrated on a contemptuous game, cultivated on a cleverly prefabricated image.
A way of saying: 'See? You too can do what I can do. I am not special! You can be like me!' In the dancing hall, that was certainly an enviable quality. Would it be the same for the battlefield?
Antilene had her doubts.
Then, the half-elf could not fail to notice the old Queen of Ris observing her. The magistrate had risen from his seat, headed only by the Gods knew where.
Antilene had not forgotten that she had something to clear up with the old hag, but she would let her explain herself in private, free from prying eyes.
"Don't give yourself too much thought, sister. Remember the Cardinals' warning: don't let your presence be traced. Even walls have eyes." Agravaine was... uncertain. Concerned. One did not have to be a genius at reading emotions to sense her distress. Quoting the highest authorities of the Theocracy for the elf was undoubtedly a sign that something was wrong.
"Is there something you intend to report to me?" She had not yet had time to readjust. Antilene decided to leave that party behind and have her stepsister accompany her to her flats. The silence was almost the natural echo of the king's palace.
On that particular occasion, a treat for the mind.
Agravaine sighed, ridding herself of any doubts that gripped her. "Soon you will understand," both eyes were dull, worried. The dark circles were only evident to the half-elf at that moment when they were finally alone.
The two of them entered the flats reserved for Evasha's delegation. As simple and cozy as when Antilene had left it. Six people were waiting for them inside.
Radish, Prika and Rucola, the freed slaves of Erya Uzruth, waited at the sides, confabulating among themselves. The flames of the fireplace near them threw a benevolent warmth, with the occasional spark daring to venture outside that small realm of fire. When the three saw their liberator cross the threshold of the house, they did not utter a word, but bowed respectfully.
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"My lady, it is good to know that you have returned safely." Etienne and Melody, instead, greeted her with unusual sobriety.
The maid had her hair up in a modest bonnet, with just a few fiery red wisps gracing the skin of the forehead. She hurriedly slipped the overcoat off her mistress's shoulders, folding it carefully on a coat hanger attached to the wall. Not a word more than necessary was spoken, which suggested to Antilene that something was not quite in place.
The butler, after a further bow, handed her a rectangular envelope. "It arrived here a few days ago," he said, calm and composed, but with a slight tremor in his hands. The collar of his tie was a few inches off, which for Etienne was comparable to walking around completely naked in a square. "We kept it, not being sure it was something reserved for you, your Highness. We hope we have not performed an unwelcome act."
Antilene opened it, intrigued, letting out a whistle of surprise at the content. "Nothing to worry about," she comforted them. Etienne and Melody alike, with kind words, words that perhaps sounded false, spoken by her. "I had almost forgotten. An artist wanted to pay homage to me with a portrait, and I see it came faster than I expected. I imagine he availed himself of the help of some demi-humans capable of flight."
The dwarf had fulfilled his promise. Even to a layman of art, that work certainly caught the attention.
'''Selene' or 'Sleeping with open eyes'''. Antilene read the title aloud. Of the two she found the second one more likable.
It was like looking in a mirror, and at the same time like looking at a stranger. The maiden who looked sighing in the window was an artifice that only vaguely resembled Antilene. A construct that had little to do with the original, starting with the ears, round and plump. The maiden gazed at a full moon, which glittered with a pearly light on her cheeks, whitening her with purity. The dress, also shining white, was decorated with black stars. Black like the night that served as a background.
On her head, resting on wavy hair that reproduced the symmetry of reality, was a diadem in the shape of a half-full moon.
Also, of course, completely white. Except for just two thin dark lines that divided its surface into several parts, all of them equal.
She was no warrior, that maiden. She did not have the dirt of blood, the embrace of death, sunning her. She carried no weapons in her hands, no corpse trailing behind her, but only a strange block of paper between her left fingers rested. Writings? Poems? Artists could perhaps only see others as souls bent on creation as themselves.
The right hand was turned towards the moon, in a vain attempt to touch it. Without ever grazing it, a movement that was caught in an eternal reaching out.
"Is that supposed to be you?" Agravaine inspected the portrait, looking doubtful. Did her eyes see what Antilene's eyes saw? Or a different, albeit familiar, image? "She doesn't have elf ears."
"No," Antilene repeated, dry tone, voice devoid of flutter. ''She doesn't have them." In a way, it was a wish that came true.
Her sister lowered her gaze. The specter of sadness leaked disappointment. But not towards Antilene, no. More towards herself. "Any particular reason for this difference?"
"None. I simply had my ears covered, as always." Antilene touched her hair, which covered the sides of her head. As always. "The magic earrings disguised my features. The artist must have mistaken me for a human."
"...I see." Her sister added no more.
"You came very well, my queen," Melody said, admiring that artistic piece, breaking a peace that had turned to ice. The tension running through her body had not dissipated, even though she was trying, perhaps foolishly, to show herself to be stronger than she was. "We should have it hung in the royal palace, once we get back to Crescent Lake."
"It would certainly be worthy of observation by all your subjects," agreed Etienne. The butler adjusted the flaps of the cloth jacket he wore, not without showing some reticence. "Of course, the Queen has the final say in the matter."
"I'll think about it," Antilene placed the picture back in Agravaine's hands, unable to shake a bad feeling off his face. The impression was akin to being watched from afar, only to find oneself being greeted by nothing every time she turned around. "But now there's more you want to tell me, isn't there? Why else would he be here? It's certainly not a social call that brought you here brother, is it?"
Feeling called in, the last person left in the room made concrete the presence he had hitherto minimized.
Logem stood up from the chair he was sitting in, continuing to sip the tea he was drinking. The aroma was very fruity, and from her position Antilene could tell that there was more sugar than liquid in that cup.
"It pleases me to see that you are in good shape, sister. We have been apart for a short time, yet I could not help but worry about you." For a moment, it seemed as if the elf was about to stretch out his arms to hug her. Embarrassment prevented them both from making a gesture that would only have brought discomfort. Instead, with his free hand, he adjusted the piece of cloth that covered part of his face.
"I am also glad to see you healthy and ... with a new look."
Logem was at the moment wearing an eye patch, covering the scar which normally furrowed his missing eye.. Strange, because her brother had never hidden his wound since she had known him. Not an excessively long time, it had to be admitted.
"How's your journey of ... discovery?" His attempts to appear caring made him clumsy, but not in a detestable way. Was he… cute? No, that was not the right definition. "Have you managed to find what you were looking for, in these neighboring kingdoms?"
"Not yet, but I am in no hurry. However, something tells me it is not to learn of my state of mind that you have rushed to this place." The expressions of Agravaine and Melody and Etienne spoke volumes. As well as that of Radish and the ex-slaves. Each of them was holding their breath, waiting for an answer from Logem. "Brother, why did you leave Evasha? Was it not your duty to take care of the elves' affairs while I was away? Take care of our father's other children?"
Duty was sewn like a tailor-made suit, for some individuals. Antilene did not claim to be a skilled weaver, nor did she know anything about spinning, but she had learned to recognise that particular seam on others, perhaps using herself as a role model.
And Logem -her brother- was made of that same yarn. It was one of the reasons she liked him.
"Our brothers and sisters are fine. Ruri takes care of them. They will all become great warriors if they wish. Or diplomats, or artists, or farmers. The possibilities for them are endless," he smiled, with a note of melancholy, eclipsed by genuine happiness. Logem had inherited their late father's smile, ruthless and macabre. Yet, Antilene still found it warm. And Agravaine with her. There was something familiar and comforting about it, however strange it might have been.
Their sister had approached the eldest, nodding placidly at his speech. "The only sister I worry about now is here before me," Logem continued. "A sister to whom I owe an unpayable debt, and who needs to be warned."
Evidently, the elf was not talking about Agravaine. Etienne and Melody took their leave, sensing that this was a situation that should remain as private as possible, followed by the Radish, Prika and Rucola.
"As I have explained to you before, you do not owe me anything. Our late father offended me first, and I merely returned to him what he had sown." Endless gratitude could become bothersome. Everything required a certain measure, a gauguin that made it balanced. Decem Hougan's offsprings, however, lived in excess, even without realizing it. A legacy difficult to part with. "But if you have something to report to me, speak up. Your concerns will be mine too."
Logem put down his cup, and cleared his throat. His breath tasted of caramel, sweet and delicate. A remarkable contrast to the image he projected of himself.
"The Forest of Evasha has been struck by the flames of madness," the grave tone did not herald celebrations. "Four villages were found completely in the grip of orgiastic ecstasy, consumed by an irrational fire that flayed away any semblance of lucidity. The survivors lost their wits, their reason forsaken for the sake of lunacy, their health abandoned for the pleasure that knows no rest; and these were the lucky ones. A large part of the victims turned into the undead, beasts with no rationality and nothing to do with the living. Only one phrase kept being repeated: 'the five fingers are coming'."
"Five fingers? Is this a joke?" Logem's face did not communicate hilarity. Agravaine, too, remained serious. "Are you telling me that some villages have seen elves turn undead at any moment? Without anyone being able to do anything?" The half-elf snapped her fingers. "Just like that, from one instant to the next?"
Her brother nodded. "Before your arrival, there were other apparitions of the undead in the forest. More than usual, but nothing to presage anything sinister. This time, it was a lightning strike. In fact, we believe it happened simultaneously in the various locations, judging by the proximity between the affected villages. It's possible that it was just one magic. A single, relentless attack. Some, and mind you I am not among them, believe that our father's death broke something. However great his perversity, it is undeniable that Decem Hougan's presence acted as a scarecrow for even the most terrible creatures of this world."
Creatures that had now awoken? Or had they only shown up to claim something lost?
Antilene observed the hand, repeating those words. "Five fingers. Apparitions of the undead." An unpleasant memory clouded her mind. Something led her to look once more at the portrait, which had been placed on a nearby table. The hand approaching the moon had grown strangely paler, almost devoid of color. An impression caused by suggestion? "This is not the first time I have encountered such an event. In the past, I personally dealt with the perpetrators of such havoc. I don't understand. What does this have to do with me?"
"Your name has been repeated by some survivors. In... flattering tones, though I don't think you'd like to hear them. Far too flattering."
"And...?" Antilene urged him on, not failing to notice his fingers drumming on the table near them, which he had approached. In that room where a pleasant winter breeze blew, the drops of sweat that beaded his forehead were unusual and out of place.
Her brother took a few seconds to continue. Antilene wondered what was troubling him so much. He had resisted the Theocracy's troops for years, poised between two fires, that of humans and that of the old king. He had faced Decem Hougan, the one who knew no defeat, the one who had always reigned on the sea of trees, the one who made lords of dragons, beasts and men alike kneel, contributing to his defeat. Logem was no coward, but even the bravest knew how to falter when the stakes were someone they cared about.
And that someone, Antilene eventually understood, was her.
In the end, it was Agravaine who spoke.
"Why don't you go back to Evasha? We can better investigate what is happening, and take the necessary precautions to protect you."
That was what this was all about. The half-elf didn't know whether to be moved, or irritated.
"We will also warn the Cardinals. We will request all the help we need. We will not leave you alone. But we must return home." That was what Agravaine could not understand.
There was no home to return to. Not for her, at least.
Antilene sat down in one of the armchairs, rubbing her eyes. "Protect me?" The half-elf let out a small laugh. "If something out there is capable of killing me, you certainly won't be able to make a difference. Rather, you would only put yourselves in unnecessary danger. Evasha is not my problem, I have always been clear about that. And the Theocracy would be safer without me, if what you report is true."
"But the Union is not your home either... you are only convenient to them because of your strength. You are an asset to be exploited, not someone to be appreciated."
For once, her sister was right. But that did not mean that what she asserted was shared by Antilene.
"I don't see what difference it makes. I never claimed to be one of them. I'm just a guest repaying a courtesy. Without me, this sandcastle is doomed to collapse."
"Yes," agreed Logem, pointing his scarlet eye -the good one- at her. "If what Agravaine told me is true, you are their only hope. I can feel sympathy for their cause, because it was mine until recently. Nevertheless, I cannot ignore the danger that threatens my family. Nations are destined to fall. It is cyclical. These territories were once divided between the old Empire of Red and the Great Plains. I myself have ventured with my old comrades through many of these lands, seeing them first collapse and then, slowly, regenerate.
"This Equestrian King I've heard about is doing nothing but trying to bring things back to an earlier state. A return to the past, however foolish, is understandable. Many races share this... nostalgia. A clinging to something that is now distant for them. Something they never knew, but was only handed down to them in tales and legends."
"And after the Union, after the reign of the Equestrian King, something else will come," sentenced Agravaine. "A new empire, or a new federation. Ruled by a tyrant, or a luminary. It won't matter, because what comes next will be replaced, what will be called eternal will instead be on the sunset path before it even lets out its first breath. As was our father's reign. As the Theocracy of Slaine will be. The perspective of our people had been distorted by grief, but now the clarity of reality is evident."
An eternal kingdom had collapsed once before, and Antilene was the one who put an end to that madness. In truth, some might have proclaimed that the Hougan dynasty had not died out, and continued to live on. It continued to live on with her. It continued to live with Agravaine, with Logem. And with all the children of the Eternal King.
Strangely enough, her father came to mind. And the pride he had felt when he had seen Antilene descend into the royal palace. In that moment, even Decem Hougan had shown a flicker of love, however perverse, however out of all compassionate affection. A love born of the understanding that his dynasty, his name, would not perish with him. That the Hougan name would finally become immortal.
A curse, perhaps? Which even magic could not cure. The apple was destined never to fall far from the tree, and that knowledge would accompany the half-elf for the rest of her days. The knowledge that Decem Hougan still lived within her. As had her mother, Faine.
"What you say is true," Antilene could understand her siblings' perspective, so many times she had experienced the results on her own skin. Why protect something destined to wither before even enjoying its beauty? In the moment allowed to appreciate its fruits, the taste had already been forgotten, leaving only bitterness on the tongue. "But this is also a human nation, however small its percentage. My oath requires me to protect it."
One day she might return to the lands of the Theocracy, and find nothing of what she had loved so much. Did it not make it worth protecting? Even with the knowledge that she could forget everything, that today's intensity would be tomorrow's indifference.
"Is there nothing we can say to change your mind?"
"I'm afraid not."
Agravaine turned to their brother, who maintained a stoic demeanor. "What should we do?"
He remained in contemplation, lost in some dark thought. "What are you aiming at, Antilene? After you eliminate the Equestrian King and save the Union, where will you go? This part of the world is friendly to humanoids, but outside these borders humans are increasingly a minority at best. At worst, well, the Theocracy's golden girl is certainly better informed than I am."
Part of her knew they were right. With her selfishness she risked endangering not only Evasha, but also the Theocracy. The Cardinals, the Scriptures, Rufus.
"For now, I'd like to explore. Nothing more. After being idle for so long I feel the need to stretch my legs. And I want to find out more about our father... I feel there are still many details that escape me."
Logem exchanged a defeated look with Agravaine, then lifted the bandage, showing the scar in all its beauty. "Our father was the kind of parent who would leave his dying son to be torn apart by the beasts of the forest, just because he did not consider him equal to the valiant and strong lineage of the elves. Truth be told, I don't think there was ever anyone who could claim his respect," he stroked his now-decaying skin with his index finger. "This eye was once black. Just like one of his own. That time I was saved by a miracle, a mere twist of fate. And I decided I would never open it again. Some might call my vision incomplete, missing a key piece. Perhaps they are right... Not that it matters much now. Decem Hougan is dead."
"He is dead, yes. But there is still so much we don't know about him. His power was greater than even the descendants of the Gods, and rivaled the dragons of old."
"Does it really matter that much? Agravaine lived with him, for some time. And he never let slip a detail about his origins."
Their sister darkened, perhaps going back to long-buried memories. "He put the elves on an ivory pedestal. Or at least the idea he had about them. Their strength would allow him to conquer the world, he used to say. The world that was rightfully his and had been taken from him. Decem Hougan was not a complicated personality who needed to be understood. He was a cruel, compassionless megalomaniac who never showed the slightest ounce of love for anyone but himself."
"And yet... I feel something is still escaping me." Antilene could not describe it. Ever since she had killed her father, her life had been complete, and at the same time missing something. A fundamental piece. As if everything that had led her to that point had not been fully accomplished. It was a feeling similar to arriving at the end of a book with more questions than at the beginning, by the author's deliberate choice. "I don't expect you to understand. And I am grateful that you care for me. But even if I return to Evasha, this mysterious enemy could strike at any time, as you have well said. At that point, I would be better off in a place where the consequences would not be catastrophic for those close to me."
"Yes, but you would also find yourself alone," Agravaine retorted, visibly worried. "Logem, try to talk some sense into her."
"She's made up her mind by now, don't you see? We just have to accept it."
"Glad you understand."
Agravaine poured herself a glass of wine, defeated. The red liquid flowed into the crystal glass like a cascade of tears. "I have two fools for siblings. Totally inconsiderate. You might as well walk around with a target on you. And I am more stupid than the two of you combined for not trying to stop you."
Logem settled for a second cup of tea, with four lumps of sugar promptly added. For Antilene, Melody and Etienne had made coffee before she arrived, coffee that by now had grown lukewarm, but was not for that to be unwelcomed.
"That doesn't mean we won't do everything in our power to help you, dear sister. You are still our Queen, and I do not want our people to mourn their beloved sovereign only after a few months. The surge of emotions might be too much."
Logem's warning was sensible. Antilene found nothing to contradict it.
"I'm all ears," said the half-elf, admittedly a little concerned. Not for herself, of course. "Do not think I am underestimating the matter, for I am not. I would say that it is vital that we start exchanging all the information we have, so that we can study a countermeasure. For my part, the incident I came across years ago involved the total transformation of the population of a Theocracy citadel with hordes of undead. At the time, an extremely dangerous lich was behind the affair," a Night Lich, to be precise. A Night Lich who had set out to be innocent, now that she thought about it. At the time, she had considered it a simple lie to deflect her. And yet...
"A lich…" Logem spun the now empty cup with a teaspoon, clinking the porcelain with the iron. "I encountered one too, before I met you."
Agravaine looked at him with surprise. "You never told me that."
Their brother did something that Antilene had judged impossible before and blushed. "It was not something to brag about. I was completely at her mercy, as much as it pains me to admit it," the two women avoided insisting on that point, leaving him room to breathe. "There might be a connection, actually. Although... there's more to it than that."
"What?" The half-elf asked, intrigued.
"Argland. I still have contacts there, and I usually exchange information with the dragon lords of the council. An old companion of mine is currently on a mission in an eastern kingdom under their orders. Apparently, there were similar incidents to ours there as well."
"Argland…" the nation was well known to Antilene. Her shackles had also been forged in the past with the blessing of that young nation. "Does that mean you are in contact with the son of the Dragon Emperor?"
Antilene observed her brother hesitate. At that moment, there was no longer any blood bond. It was a member of Slaine's Theocracy and one of the hated non-humans who confronted each other. Trust had been replaced by an ancient suspicion beyond them, whose origins dated back to a time even more remote than themselves.
"No, don't say anything," the half-elf came to understand that some things were better left unsaid. As long as hidden, knots could be avoided coming to the comb. "I don't want to put you in an unseemly position. Let us dwell on what you have reported. If it is not lies, there must be a pattern we ignore. The Theocracy, Evasha and now this other addition. What do they have in common? Do you have any ideas?"
Logem shrugged, Agravaine with him. "We can only speculate, but if there is a thread, I cannot discern it. We are missing a few pieces, I am afraid. Nothing rules out the possibility that other cases may have occurred in places unknown to us. The world is big. Too big for us to know every single nook and cranny."
"It would look like we are facing a dead end."
It was annoying to be left in the dark, with no candle to give any illumination.
Antilene felt the need to get up, to breathe clean air. The window was opened, and the music of the engagement party, until then only an almost inaudible background hum, deafened the three elves.
"The celebrations continue, at least outside. It almost seems as if there is no danger out there. That the war is just a dream to be forgotten, to be left behind in some fog of memory."
The square of the Black Blade could be seen, packed with people. It was hard to believe that the place had only recently been the scene of numerous battles. Now, however, merchants took advantage of it to trade goods and promote their products, while bards sang the heroic deeds of Prince Alexander and those who had liberated the city.
The population participated in their rulers' festivities as much as they could. However, guards patrolled every corner, and worry laced their faces. That facade had been artificially built, and just as easily could have been ended.
"That reminds me, Kista was expecting me, right sister?"
Agravaine nodded. "She must have retired to her room by now. But I can send someone to check if she is ready to receive you."
"No, that will be fine. At worst, I will have wasted some time." The journey, though short, would allow her to be alone for the time it took to get her head in order. "Logem, what are you going to do?"
"I will wait for your return, and then we will talk about our future plans. I will stay here until I know you are safe."
Apprehensive, but honest. Antilene appreciated it. In part.
"So be it," she clapped her palms together, to seal the end of the discussion. "I'll see you both later. Don't do anything rash while I'm gone."
"Strange. I was about to give you the same warning."
----------------------------------------
If the Prince's guests noticed the half-elf walking among them, they did not give much away.
Antilene knew that some of those personalities still remembered her, or at least she had every reason to believe so. The image of the satrap in chains handed over to the Union must have been still vivid in the minds of those present that day.
Yet, beyond a few polite greetings, no one stopped her for more than a few seconds. It was like being invisible. Some of the assassins who had succeeded in the Black Scriptures would have envied her for that skill she had achieved without sacrifice.
For now, Antilene enjoyed the quiet. The return journey had been continually punctuated by questions from Lady Elaina and her retinue.
"You must tell me all about the Theocracy, the Empire, Re-Estize... I have never been to any of these places."
At first, the conversation with the halfling had been pleasant. At first.
'But the topics to talk about soon ran out. Making friends… is difficult.' Eventually, there was nothing left to say. Ever since she had reached maturity, Antilene had believed that her strength was the only wall separating her from the rest of the world. And even if that was the case, it was still not the whole truth. 'Knowing how to speak and knowing how to understand another person are two things that do not always overlap. In fact, they rarely do.'
Conversation with her siblings, who cared for her more than Antilene had ever been able to care for others, had proved this.
The escort trip, which had quickly dwindled into a mission devoid of anything new, had proved this.
The relationship with the Black Scriptures had proved it. Respect, there was plenty of it. Something more? Easier to catch a bunch of chimeras than to conform to unfamiliar standards.
But, in the end, making friends was all that important? Would it have changed anything? Her dear companions of the past were already dead… Making new ones wouldn't have returned them back to her.
Eventually, wandering around the palace wings, she came across the same room with the Prince's painting she had entered on her first... visit. This time, she found someone to welcome her.
"Lady Fouche. I did not expect to find you here." It was Dionegis, the one Antilene had jokingly dubbed the Swan Knight. In reality, except for the crest embroidered on his chest, the young man had little of the gracefulness of that bird. "I expected to find you still in the main hall. Cavorting with the rest of the nobility."
"And that's your opinion of me? I might be offended."
He shrugged and returned to look at the painting of Prince Alexander.
"You are not with your lady? She might need you right now."
Indeed, if Elaina Orestes was somewhere, with the good and the bad weather, it was to be expected to see her trusted protector pop up after a few seconds. But no sign of the halfling.
Dionegis still didn't direct his gaze at her, but it didn't take a genius to realize that question had hurt him.
"The Prince has requested to be alone with Lady Orestes. Lady Thekla and Lady Kilmestra have strongly suggested that I take a little time for myself, to enjoy some rest after my long service. Master Orestes will arrive in the evening, and I must be ready to resume service with him."
That suggestion had been accepted, but not appreciated, that was for sure. Antilene did not know how to comfort him... nor was she sure she was required to do so.
"I'll leave you to your pity then. Heaven forbid I come between a valiant knight and his sulking. A lady of good family... ergh, a lady of good manners recognises when she is unwanted." She was about to leave the room, when she heard a voice, thin and wavering, call her back.
"Wait, Lady Fouche." Dionegis had finally turned around, and although his face remained dry, Antilene had the impression that he was on the verge of commotion. "May I have the temerity to ask you a question?"
"You have already done so," said the half-elf, amused by the bewilderment that now leaked from the young knight's face, hitherto always restrained by a seriousness imparted with far too much zeal. "But, from the height of my generosity, I grant you a second. Come on, you should know better than to keep a girl waiting."
"If you had not been there, Lady Orestes would have died unceremoniously in the snow. And even during the rest of the journey, you always countered every assault, while I was always left looking clueless," he clenched his fists, while his breath did not maintain a regular cadence. "Soon my lady, the one I swore to protect at the cost of my life, will be the consort of one the most important men in the Union. The man the Equestrian King wants to kill more than any other. The centaurs will soon arrive, and I know I will not be able to protect her. Nor will Prince Alexander. But you are."
Antilene certainly did not expect what followed. The swan knight went so far as to touch her feet with his forehead in a gesture of entreaty. "I implore you, Lady Fouche. Would you be willing to continue to protect my lady?"
In that gesture, there was no ulterior motive. It was just the last desperate move of someone who had nothing left to lose.
A blunt sword was useless. A sword placed on the ground was less than useless. The halfling's words echoed in the half-elf's thoughts. 'Once we have lost our purpose, what can we ever yearn for?' For that young man, raised as a weapon and sharpened in childhood as a blade the iron of his filament had been broken by his perceived worthlessness. Would Elaina have repeated those words, on seeing her favorite reduced to that state?
Probably yes.
"Get up," she ordered him. He remained motionless. "It is not for me to protect that halfling." He continued not to move. Neither was he breathing, nor did he give any sign of any semblance of life. Dionegis had become as motionless as the statues that decorated the palace. A piece of marble, still and sparkles. "Is this what you intend to do with your life?"
Some members of the Black Scripture used to collapse in the same way. Once what defined the meaning of one's existence was stripped away, that what made you special turned out to be only mediocre ordinariness, that what distinguished did not make you different from others, the first response was to give up.
And the second... Well, it was even more cruel. Before going down that road, however, there was the consolation of a new fork in the path opening up.
Now, to renew himself was up to the swan knight alone. To find a new way, or to be swallowed up by his newfound awareness.
"What is life without honor?" Dionegis dribbled, slamming his fist against the floor. The metal glove he wore produced an unpleasant and untimely echo. "What is a knight, if he has no one to protect? Or, worse, if he fails in his duty?"
"This…" Antilene could not finish the sentence. The raging sound of footsteps distracted her. A frightened crowd was pouring towards them, bringing chaos.
The half-elf stopped a demi-human with canine features, throwing him to the ground with a simple wave of her hand.
"You, tell me what's going on?"
The demi-human tried to breathe. Antilene had used too much violence, with... unforeseen outcomes. "Shit," muttered the half-elf. She lost a few seconds to reluctantly heal the beast.
"Coff... coff... The new princess…"
Dionegis, who had risen again, whitened. The violet light of his irises was struck by a shadow that had descended from who knows where. He drew his sword, which he aimed at the demi-human's throat, issuing a single, terse command: "Speak!"
The unfortunate guest did everything he could to regain a speech pattern worthy of the name. "A shout was heard from the Prince's chambers, just as the new princess and future consort withdrew. One of the dignitaries from the other cities was also found murdered. And that's not all... they have arrived."
"Arrived who?"
"The Equestrian King's troops. Sooner than could be expected. Crossing the sea aboard thousands of warships. Dozens of missives arrived at the same time. Orcleans fell. Thousands of troops are heading towards Beppo Allo and both East and West Gaith."
Antilene was to ask him another question, but the swan knight had already escaped.
"You go away," after chasing the non-human away, the half-elf rushed towards the main hall.
First bursting with life, now empty. Death had taken possession of the place, and the tables of the Union's laws, symbol of unity and cohesion, had collapsed to the ground.
Elaina, shaken and trembling, had been wrapped in a blanket by her attendant: Kilmestra. Of the other attendant there was no trace.
Dionegis had rushed as eagerly as he could towards his mistress, using as much tact as he could to ask her what had happened, getting only silence for an answer. His sword continued to be drawn, towards some unseen enemy, causing only terror in the few remaining servants who lingered in the hall.
Antilene noticed that Prince Alexander was absent, and with him his personal guard, Mirina and Sir Niles included.
The seats reserved for the dignitaries of the other cities were now empty, save for one. The half-elf approached the one still occupied. Kista stood nearby, straining to maintain a decorum befitting a woman in her position. She touched the corpse still remaining in place, somewhat certain that only shaking it would bring it back to life.
When she noticed her, the only thing the woman could do was bend to the ground, as if the pain that had accumulated in such a short space of time now came out all in one violent blow.
"Lady Fouche, you are here…"
'And you are late,' Antilene concluded for her.
Those were not the circumstances under which they both wanted to meet, it was obvious. Antilene asked only one question.
"What happened?"
Kista stood up, not without some difficulty. Unlike Lady Orestes, she was not shivering, being able to keep a certain control over her emotions.
"When Prince Alexander led Lady Orestes to her chambers to speak to her privately, all was well," she began to explain, clearing her throat with more than a cough. "Then, some servants started handing missives to some dignitaries who were with us. The first was the mayor of Veneria. His mustache turned white with terror as he pulled away, his feline tail twitching in dismay. It was unusual, but Queen Kirke told us not to worry. It was only personal matters of no importance, in all likelihood. We were suspicious, but the festive air and wine had convinced us to postpone the matter for a few hours."
She lowered her head, as if cursing her mistake.
"We should not have."
"And then?"
"And then a missive arrived for General Chazos," Kista continued. "This time, its contents were immediately clear to us. Orcleans had fallen. Indeed, it was more accurate to say that it had surrendered without putting up a fight. And for the centaurs to cut their way across the sea meant only one thing."
"Treason."
"Magister Kostas left early, but we didn't think ... The hall had begun to empty. The general thundered that he would personally lead his troops to repel the invaders. I and the others tried to convince him that alone would be suicide."
"And Prince Alexander?"
"He was immediately alerted to the news, and promptly rounded up as many dignitaries and soldiers as he could. At that point the chaos had not yet begun, many were persuaded to retreat without causing panic. I headed with the Prince and the other representatives to the upper part, where we were to hold a council of war. It was then that I realized someone had fallen behind. I went back to fetch her, when we heard Lady Orestes' shrieks."
At that point, things were beginning to take shape. Elaine was alive, and with her Kilmestra. So the one who had been eliminated had to be...
"Thekla the attendant... but where is she now? Her body, I mean."
"I don't know," Kista shrugged, heedless. She was not to blame, for other concerns kept her busier.
Antilene did not pursue the matter with her. Instead she pointed to the uncomfortable presence between the two of them. "And when did you notice that the old queen was dead?"
"Just now... I thought…" There was something to be said about Kista Cabelia. She was a strong woman, if not of body, at least of spirit. She recomposed herself with a grace and speed that left even the half-elf astonished. "I thought she was sleeping. It had been a long day. And more than once she had confided in me of the weariness that gripped her."
Indeed, looking at the hag with her eyes closed and her head just slightly bowed one could easily be confused and assume she was asleep. Were it not for the line that furrowed her neck and from which a yellowish liquid oozed copiously.
Zea Kirke, Queen of Ris, had passed away in silence.