Revin came up over the hill near his camp and skidded to a stop. Down below was a squad of soldiers in red uniforms led by a man with graying hair.

The soldiers surrounded the gray-haired man and Kaiato, who was down on his knees with his hands bound behind his back.

Revin immediately ducked and hoped no one saw him. He ordered his compies to stay silent and snuck down the hill, hiding behind sporadic trees. These soldiers had long guns like Kaiato’s. Their leader had no gun, just a sword and a spear with an intricately carved, but very short, haft.

Revin made his way down to a bush. He ordered his compies to surround the camp so he could use their vision to have a full view. Not only was Kaiato kneeling, but his hands were bound behind his back. The man with the gray hair had stopped pacing in front of Kaiato and crouched down to near Kaiato’s level, looking him straight in the eyes.

“No, High General,” Kaiato said, “I’m not a spy. I’m a fugitive.”

The gray-haired man looked down at Kaiato.

“Why are you a fugitive?” the man said in a low voice, “What are your crimes? I will know if you’re lying.”

Kaiato nodded, “I know your reputation. Please… I am dishonored. I was framed for the murder of a nobleman. My sister helped me escape.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “I know High Lord Siriyog has passed. Do we have another new monarch, eager to prove himself by plundering the tribes of Ateya?”

“No, Lord!” Kaiato said, “I am not here on Lord Siroki’s orders.”

“Are you a spy?” the man bellowed.

Kaiato flinched. “No! I’m just… trying to live.”

“Then do you work for Jebuthar? A sharpshooter sneaking about in the forests, right as I’m about to march against his people? Seems very convenient.”

“I swear it, Lord Speartip,” Kaiato said, “I swear it on my life.”

Revin’s eyes widened. Speartip… where had he heard that name?”

“It’s General Speartip,” the man’s voice was sharp with correction. “And stop calling me lord. Ateya has no lords. Where are you traveling and why?”

“South,” Kaiato said, “to find better hunting grounds.”

“How convenient, that I should run into a Koyejian Sharpshooter as I’m scouting through my northern wilderness. If your lords wanted me dead, they should have sent someone with more discretion. Your cover story is laughable.”

“I swear, Lord Speartip, I am not here to hurt you!”

Omrai shook his head. “But you are keeping something from me.”

Omrai stared at a silent Kaiato. “Where is your companion?” General Speartip said, “the one in the strange armor and robes?”

Revin’s heart skipped a beat.

“He left, we parted ways. He headed east.”

“Now that is a lie.” General Speartip let out a tired sigh. He placed his hand on the short spear-haft hanging from his belt. “I do not have time for secrets.”

Kaiato let out a slow breath. “He just went off to relieve himself, he means you no harm!”

“I will be the judge of that,” General Speartip said. He turned and nodded at two of his men, who began looking around the camp, stepping away from the general.

Revin’s heart beat faster.

“He’s just a monk,” Kaiato said, “As simple as he is harmless.”

Revin frowned at that. He didn’t think he was simple nor harmless. But why was Kaiato protecting him? He’d said that Ateyans hated Koyejihu, they shouldn’t hate Revin. Their religions were close. Maybe.

“And where is he from? Mirhaden? Is he a volshlien monk?”

Revin was done with spying, and gathered his courage, standing up from his hiding place.

“The Hiriv, my good general,” Revin shouted as he approached.

Seven guns pointed at him, and Revin’s heart leaped into his throat, threatening to climb out to make its own escape. A grappling hook had latched on to the middle of his chest, pulling hard from the inside. His muscles tensed, and the world seemed to spin. He stumbled.

Well, that went well. Revin thought amid correcting his disorientation.

The man turned to Revin. He was maybe in his fifties. His hair was silvery gray, and his face looked haggard, his eyes slightly shadowed. The armor was fascinating. It was made of strips, tied together with sections of string. At his elbow and armpit were small metal rings, weaved in a jagged pattern. His chest was covered in what looked to be a solid piece of metal, fitted to match his muscular form.

“And who are you?” Omrai cocked his head.

“Revin Henrir of the Hiriv monks. I was brought by Ismander, the monk who once served the king of Volisna.”

Omrai gave Revin a confused look. “That stranger? Where is she now?”

“Killed by metal men.” Along with Blackfire… He thought with a frown.

“And what are you doing here, Revin Henrir?” Omrai said.

“I’m here to help. I’m a beastspeaker, I control animals with my mind.”

Omrai looked even more confused.

Revin’s compies entered the camp, and in a flash the soldiers had aimed their weapons. The same terror gripped him, dragging him into frozen inability. They were about to fire. He was going to feel the ripping and agony again. With trembling effort, he forced out a scream. “Don’t!”

Omrai turned to Revin. “Why?”

The tips of Revin’s fingers were almost completely numb, and the world swayed. “I- I control them. They obey me.”

Revin knelt. He had the compies gather around him, in a near-perfect circle. Then he had them turn to look at Omrai in perfect synchronization.

Omrai eyes widened. “To ask again, what are you doing here?” Omrai stood straighter. He looked down at Revin with a father’s reprimanding stare.

“Narazoth, another monk like me, is working for Jebuthar,” Revin said, ignoring one of the compies tugging at his mind. “He has a monk, once of my order, who uses the same powers I do to control his metal men.”

“At ease, men.”

They lowered their guns.

“Tell me more,” Omrai said, still frowning.

“I tell them what to do, with my mind, and they obey.” Revin looked at the compies. They hopped up in a wave, each repeating their fellows one at a time.

Omrai raised an eyebrow. “And, Jebuther uses this same power on his metal men?”

Revin nodded as several compies pulled on his pant leg. “They tried to kill me before I could meet you.”

“And why do you want to meet me?”

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“I’ve been told that you’re a leader worthy of trust.”

“But why should I trust you? You say he has a monk of your order; you are both invaders from a different land. You could be working together. Tell me why I shouldn’t just toss you into a cell?”

Revin looked around, finally heeding the mental nudges from his compies. His eyes passed over the trees and brush around them. After a moment, he saw them. All of them.

They were surrounded by a scattering of turquoise eyes.

Revin stopped breathing and could only stare. He tried to force out the words. But all that came out was a whisper.

“Metal monsters.”

“We’re under attack!” one of Omrai’s soldiers yelled. Then a short, low whistle rang out. the soldier stumbled, clutching his arm. Revin saw a spurt of blood shoot up from the wound, and the man fell with a grunt.

Revin ducked down.

“Knees! Circle!” Omrai shouted. His men obeyed, forming a protective circle around Omrai, Revin, and Kaiato. The compies smelled the metal, heard the rustling of branches, saw the glowing eyes. Omrai’s soldiers scanned the forest line, seeing nothing yet.

Omrai’s eyes darted back and forth, scanning the trees. He hadn’t seen them yet. Then his gaze fell on Revin, and his compies.

“Monk!” Omrai shouted. “Spread out your beasts, have them listen and look. I want them to pinpoint their location!”

Revin’s heart still painfully beat in his chest, and he looked around nervously. Where had the eyes gone?

“Now, monk!”

Another soldier was hit and dropped. This one had been hit in the throat. He gurgled and flailed on the ground. Revin felt burning bile rise in his throat.

“Do it!” Omrai shouted with a nod.

Revin moved his compies into position. Kaiato jumped for his gun and sack, a few projectiles striking the ground near him with high-pitched whistles. He trembled, closing his eyes for a moment. Trying to ignore the bloody visions that came each time they opened.

A pair of compies started chirping, pointing their noses toward a small patch of trees. Another shot came, hitting Omrai’s breastplate. Revin cowered but managed to point.

“There!” Omrai shouted. Revin’s ears rang painfully at the loud booms of the guns. One metal man stumbled forward out of the trees with a crash, its leg a tangle of shattered gears, several dents and a single hole in its breastplate.

Revin looked to Omrai, seeing that his breastplate bore a single dent. It hadn’t pierced his armor. Omrai was glaring at the trees, unfazed.

Several other compies heard the rustling of foliage on the other side of camp. “Over there! Att-t-tacking!” Revin screamed with a stutter, pointing as the compies chirped. His hands were shaking, and he felt extremely cold.

But no shots were fired. He frowned at Omrai and his men. They were still reloading. Kaiato had never taken that long! Nor had the metal men!

Two metal men stepped out of the bushes, dropping their guns and drawing long, thick swords. Omrai’s soldiers’ eyes widened as the clockwork warriors approached. Revin knew the fear in their eyes. It had been his constant companion. These machines… they would be his end. Nothing could stop them.

Omrai drew his sword and speartip. As his soldiers reloaded, he moved to the space between them and the two metal men. Approaching them calmly. Not in a rush, nor with a scream.

The first metal man swung for Omrai’s head, causing him to duck low. He followed through with a strike at the metal man’s neck, his sword entering the mess of gears. Omrai kicked it to the ground and rolled past the falling metal man, blocking a strike from the second.

Revin’s ears throbbed with more gunfire. Revin turned. Kaiato was already reloading. The metal man he’d shot stumbled out of foliage to the west of camp. It fell to the ground, landing on one of Revin’s compies. He felt a rush of breaking bones, crushing flesh, a spike of terror, and then nothing. The connection went out like a weak candle, but the pain clung to his mind like stinging tar.

Revin forced his attention back to the fight. Omrai traded blows with a third metal man. Two lay broken on the ground behind him. A strong swing from the metal man’s blade forced Omrai to stumble back. Another gun fired. Half of the metal man’s head exploded in a flash of sparks and metal.

Revin let out a sigh of relief as it swayed. But after only a moment, it stood tall again. Revin heard the men gasp audibly as the thing charged forward. Its face a jagged half-ball of metal, one solitary glowing eye staring Omrai down.

Omrai sidestepped the attack and with a shout brought his speartip into the thing’s chest, scraping through the metal with a painful sound.

The men were tense, scanning frantically. Finally, their weapons were reloaded. Revin stood and heard a click. He turned to the west of camp. Seeing nothing. He heard a low whistle then felt something slam into his chest, causing him to stumble backward.

His head spun and he fell to his knees, feeling an aching, heavy pain in his chest. He could hardly breathe. He looked at his chest. The world twisted. The ball had lodged itself into his ribcage, probably. Near his bruised ribs. The world distorted as he saw the hole in his body dripping blood. His compies let out chirps of concern.

He heard other guns explode with thunderous booms. But they seemed muted. The world spun around him, his head at the center of the motion.

Revin sluggishly looked up from the ground. When had he fallen? Kaiato looked down with concern in his eyes. Revin’s vision was starting to blur as others approached, his vision alternating from dark to light.

They spoke mumbling words. The weight of a sharp stone compressed his chest, crushing and piercing. Revin felt a painful pop, skin tearing. Fire racing through his nerves. He jerked and let out a yell. But the pressure on his ribs and chest released.

Regardless, Revin felt his consciousness trickle away. Something important. He was missing something… something… He had to ask! Words in his mind. Swimming like little fish. Moving in circles in an ocean of thought. Like that storm with Ismander. His thoughts moved in erratic patterns, jerking and jumping to and fro, here and there. Where was Blackfire? Ismander… lords… Omrai…

With a tensing of his whole body and a grunt, he forced his eyes wider, looking up into the general’s eyes. His brow was furrowed in concern, his frown deep and sympathetic. Revin knew what he had to say. He had to say it now.

“High… General Omrai… Speartip,” Revin said with a slur. “I want to make you my Lord, so I can perform greater control of the beasts of the earth and help your people.”

Darkness closed around his vision. Then, all thought was gone.

✦✦✦

Kaiato watched the soldiers tend to the dead and wounded. Kaiato had fought Ateyans before. Thought he’d fought them from a distance. Now, he sat on the ground, close enough to see the bone and blood peeking through an Ateyan’s side wound. His eyes were motionless, but staring, mouth wide open in agony.

Kaiato clenched his fist, closing his eyes. He hated being this close to the dead.

Revin was unconscious, but the field medic wasn’t worried. The wound wasn’t enough to kill him, it was the strange bullet that had caused the strange effect. They all felt it. It had made them all dizzy. Kaiato wanted one, but the soldiers had tossed it away before he’d had a chance. Now he sat, bound again.

“Kaiato Bakeh.” Omrai approached.

Kaiato looked up at Omrai, repressing a gulp and slowing his breath.

“Why did you protect my men? Why didn’t you run?”

Kaiato frowned. Omrai’s firm stare told him that the truth was his only option.

“Because I have nowhere to go,” Kaiato said.

They were quiet for a time. Looking at the trees, at the broken metal warriors, and the dead soldiers. Omrai had lost few today, but Kaiato caught the wrath in the man’s eyes when they passed over the corpses of his men.

“What will you do to me?” Kaiato said.

Kaiato worried that Omrai might just kill him on the spot. He knew how Ateyans handled capital punishment. Eaten by a crushjaw, gored on a horn head, death by firing squad, hanging, decapitation, poison. Omrai could kill him just to finish dealing with him.

“You’re a sniper,” Omrai said. Not quite a question.

“Yes.”

Omrai nodded. “You don’t need to wander the wilds anymore.”

Kaiato cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“I want you to teach my gunsmiths.”

Kaiato’s eyes widened. “You want me to betray my nation?”

“I want you to be useful,” Omrai said. “I’d rather you not be a prisoner, but an ally.”

“I didn’t know Ateya made alliances with heathens,” Kaiato said. His bitterness seeping through.

Omrai’s gaze flashed with anger, and Kaiato immediately regretted the words. He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath, calming the storm within. A loose tongue was dangerous in a strict land.

“We’ve never been offered alliances, only threats.” Omrai said, his voice low. “And you know how each of those threats were answered.”

Kaiato felt a nervous chill. This was Omrai Speartip Abaddon. He had won a dozen wars, slaughtered a thousand men, and slain an emperor. When Ateya’s neighbors attempted to fill in the void left by the monarch’s death, Omrai had smashed their armies one by one. They had thought Omrai and Yishai weak, due to their progressive views.

They had been proven wrong.

“And if I decline?” Kaiato said.

“Then you can rot in a cell,” Omrai said.

Kaiato cocked his head. “Why don’t you kill me?”

“Because you’ve given me little reason to,” Omrai said, then he glanced at the metal warrior Kaiato had shot. “And you’ve given me some reason not to.”

“I’m not a Shevidarist,” Kaiato said, “You have laws against-”

“We have laws against practicing heathen faiths,” Omrai said, “You will come to ceremonies, you will be silent, and you will comply.”

Omrai leaned in, his face getting dangerously close to Kaiato’s. Close enough that Kaiato could see the lines of stress, worry, and determination on his face. “But I will not turn down the opportunity to learn from a Sharpshooter, and to study his weapon.” He dipped his head toward the rifle, which sat among the other supplies guarded by a soldier.

“I’m no engineer,” Kaiato said, growing uncomfortable.

“Then teach what you can.”

“I would rather not, Lord,” Kaiato gave a deep bow of his head, then looked back up, he hoped his pleading eyes would be enough.

“If your concern is for your nation, you can rest well knowing that I have no intention to attack Koyeji.”

Kaiato looked into Omrai’s eyes. His brow was pressed into a hard stare. This man could take away the last ounce of freedom he had. Kaiato knew he should refuse, that he should let the general capture, to protect his people. But… despite all the shame he felt… Kaiato wanted to be free of a prison cell. He let out a shuddering breath.

May the gods forgive my cowardice.

“Fine,” Kaiato said, “I’ll do it. I’ll teach your gunsmiths.”

Omrai nodded, face turning calm.

“How do I know you won’t use what I teach you against Koyeji?”

Omrai furrowed his brow. “Have I ever attacked my neighbors? Even in retaliation?”

“Well, we have fought over the narrow valley-”

“Have I ever invaded Koyeji or anyone else?”

Kaiato knew he never had. Many nations had attempted to take Ateyan land, but Ateya had never done the same. Even after major victories, Omrai never invaded a neighbor in retaliation.

“No,” Kaiato said.

“I do this to protect my people. Something you clearly understand. If Koyeji is more hesitant to invade, then fewer Koyejians will die in battle against me.”

He looked up at this legend of a man. A force of will stronger than a storm. Army’s bent and broke beneath his wrath.

Kaiato knew he didn’t have much of a choice.