Seeds of Rebellion (48 page)

“Anything else you would like to know?” Galloran asked.

“What about all of the orantium in the Drowned City?” Jason asked.

“The Conclave sent a message by eagle to a small group of seedfolk who man a permanent observation station in the trees near the northeastern corner of the swamp. They will recover the orantium in the rafts and dive for more at the Drowned City.”

“Yesterday you mentioned how we killed the menace,” Rachel recalled. “You also talked about finding a large stash of orantium. Some who listened might guess that the orantium was in the Drowned City.”

“Which is why we sent the eagle,” Galloran said. “We have no reason to believe spies have infiltrated the Amar Kabal, but we can’t be too cautious. Pallas is doing everything in his power to quickly and quietly acquire the explosives.”

“One more question,” Jason said. “Rachel told me you were able to psychically use her eyes to win the duel yesterday. If she stayed with you, couldn’t you keep on borrowing her sight?”

“It was a desperate gambit,” Galloran said. “Viewing myself and Naman that way required extraordinary mental exertion. You may have noticed, after I maneuvered into position and got used to the perspective, I went for a hasty victory. Had Naman held off my attack, exhaustion would have soon led to my demise. It was a calculated risk, and one that would not be very useful outside of a controlled environment. Could I see through her eyes again? Certainly. Could it ever be useful again? Possibly. Am I willing to bring Rachel to Felrook, even under supposed diplomatic immunity? Given her gift for Edomic and her status as a Beyonder, absolutely not.”

“I’d come if you wanted,” Rachel said.

“You’re brave and loyal. But no, I would honestly prefer you far from Felrook. If Maldor understands your capabilities, he’ll be more interested in apprehending you than any of us. Your presence could jeopardize the mission.”

“Then I guess I have a final question too,” Rachel said. “What can we do to prepare between now and when we leave?”

“Get rest,” Farfalee advised. “It will soon be in short supply.”

From the southern rim of Highvale, Rachel gazed down at the fat crescent of Northvale, and farther to mist-enshrouded Roundvale. A steep, serpentine path had led up from Roundvale to these smaller, higher valleys, but the way was about to become impassable by horses.

The Amar Kabal had no intention of improving the northward trails. Farfalee had explained that the few routes through the mountains were tricky to find or to follow. The narrow, treacherous windings helped ensure that any attack from the north would come as a trickle rather than a flood. Not that anyone lived north of the Vales. Still, in the warmer months, an invading army could theoretically gain access by crossing the tundra from the ocean.

Rachel glanced to one side, where Drake sat astride a chocolate brown stallion. He had given Mandibar to Galloran for the journey south. She and Drake had wakened early and slipped away from camp. The delegation had ascended to Highvale in the dark, and he had insisted that she shouldn’t miss the view from the southern rim. His flat features did not leave the seedman much of a profile as he glowered down at the misty morning.

“I love these valleys,” Drake said, apparently feeling her gaze. “So many memories. So many relationships. Years upon years. Lifetimes upon lifetimes. It is strange to ride through here unwelcomed. I wonder if I will ever behold my homeland again.”

“It’s beautiful,” Rachel said. “This is my favorite place in Lyrian.”

“I have a cottage deeper in these mountains,” Drake said. “Built it myself. I lived there for more than two lifetimes. Not short, reckless lifetimes like at Harthenham. Long ones. Good ones. I had my own valley. Not very big, but much more than I needed. To my knowledge, nobody else has ever found it. There is no easy way to get there. Winters were long. I needed to hoard plenty of wood and food.”

“Did you get lonely?” Rachel asked.

“Not for a long time. I grew old alone twice—older than I reached during any other lifetimes. I had patience. I really felt the difference after each rebirth. By the third lifetime, I finally began to itch for something else, so I left. Many of my people depart on their own like that. Some never return. These mountains go on and on, nearly spanning the continent. There are plenty of places to hide away. We’ve lost some of our best men and women to solitary living. Maybe they’re the smart ones.”

“Is that what you want to do?” Rachel asked.

He shook his head. “Not now. If I had no responsibilities, possibly. It might enable me to repair my spirit, purge Harthenham from my psyche. But I intend to see this rebellion through. So long as you, Jason, and Galloran stand, I’ll stand with you.” He took a deep breath, looking around and rubbing the back of his neck. “My people despise me. My lives have run out. I don’t belong here anymore. I have no future here. But it still hurts to leave. I miss these vales. I would have liked to see my cottage one last time.”

“You still might,” Rachel said.

“It’s nowhere near our path.”

“I mean afterward.”

He squinted at her. “A whole lot needs to happen between now and then. Including an improbable amount of me not dying.
I thought I’d bid these valleys farewell once before. I’d rather say good-bye again, then let it be a welcome surprise if I get to return.”

Rachel thought about her home. Was she crazy to believe she would make it back there? She had to see her parents again. She couldn’t lose faith, whether or not Drake thought their future looked bleak. “Hope isn’t bad.”

“Depends on the person,” Drake replied. “If it works for you, use it. Ready?”

With a brief Edomic phrase, Rachel told her horse to head back to camp. Drake used heels and reins to similarly encourage his mount. She urged the mare to run, and enjoyed the cool wind in her face.

Back at camp, everyone was prepping to hike into the mountains. They all wore the robes of the Amar Kabal and carried heavy winter traveling cloaks. They expected to forage most of their food, but several people still carried packs loaded with nonperishable rations.

Besides Farfalee, five other seed people had joined the delegation. One was a young woman, Delissa, who stood half a head shorter than Farfalee and seldom spoke. The four other men included Nollin, the nephew of Naman, who bore an unmistakable resemblance to his uncle and had served for several lifetimes as his chief advisor. Farfalee had quietly informed Rachel that Nollin was along to help assure that even the most cynical seedfolk would believe the report sent from Mianamon. The other seedmen were named Kerick, Halco, and Andrus, all three reputedly proven warriors and huntsmen.

Galloran no longer accompanied them. He, Dorsio, and their accompanying seedmen had bid the delegation farewell at Roundvale, on their way to East Gate and eventually to Felrook.

“How was the joy ride?” Jason asked as Rachel dismounted.

“There’s a beautiful view of Roundvale from here. The valley looked full of whipped cream.”

“It’s probably better that I didn’t look. Chilled berries in cream was my favorite dish here. I already miss it.”

“Looks like we’re almost ready to go?”

Jason nodded. “Are you going to tell your horse to meet us at the tundra?”

“That might not be very kind,” Rachel said, even though she knew he was kidding. “I bet she’d try. She’s earned a break in a safe place.”

“Too bad we can’t say the same,” Jason sighed.

Not far from Rachel, Drake was transferring gear from his horse into a backpack. Nollin sauntered over to him, a tall walking stick in hand. “Well-timed arrival,” Nollin congratulated. “You managed to skip all of the work.”

“I figured you could use the practice,” Drake said without looking at him. “It takes more skills than speechwriting to survive in the backcountry.”

Nollin’s nostrils flared. “I suppose I have much to learn. Perhaps you can instruct me how to secure food and drink by bowing to Maldor?”

Drake straightened, his expression relaxed. “Based on your politics, I assumed he was already paying you handsomely.”

Nollin glanced sideways and noticed Rachel and Jason watching. “There is a significant difference between recommending defensive strategies to protect your people and betraying them by kneeling to the emperor.”

Drake nodded. “You have a point. I was only killing myself.”

“Seedmen have long been recognized as incorruptible,” Nollin said. “We are unerringly true to ourselves and our people. No
seedman in history ever openly accepted a bribe from the enemy. You tarnished the unblemished reputation of—”

“I wearied of fighting the emperor without the support of my countrymen,” Drake shot back, finally losing his temper. The heated discussion was beginning to draw the attention of others in the camp. “How many manglers have you slain? How many conscriptors? How many displacers? I was invited to Harthenham for a reason. Believe me, our reputation was destroyed long before I dined there. You haven’t been abroad in decades. We’re known across the continent as the cravens cowering in the mountains.”

“The rest of Lyrian suffers while we prosper,” Nollin said defensively. “Let them mock. Soon there won’t be any scoffers left.”

Drake shook his head. “The servants of the emperor scoff the loudest, and with the least fear of reprisal. Make no mistake. Under the policies you’ve supported, they’ll have the last laugh.”

“Prudence is not cowardice. If we had declared war against Felrook, we would no longer exist!”

“It’s only a benefit to have a long life if it’s worth living! If we insist on survival, we could always try winning.”

“This from the one seedman who ever surrendered!” Nollin laughed. “The only one who sold his honor to live at Harthenham.”

“Who has less virtue—the man who fought until the lack of support killed his spirit or the man who never fought?”

“You’re very noble,” Nollin mocked. “I’ll admit, while you fought, I gave you no support. You had one thing right when you went to Harthenham—nobody is going to stop the emperor! The rest of Lyrian lost the war long ago. The war has been over for years.”

“Then why are you here?” Drake growled.

“I’m here to assure an honest report reaches the Conclave. I’m here to watch the oracle confirm what those of us who haven’t
spent the last thirty years in a stupor already know. There is no hope for a rebellion. Brave words can’t change that. Neither can bold actions. Neither can Beyonders or orantium or throneless kings with inflated reputations. This journey will only be worth the trouble in order to finally have the matter settled.”

“Don’t disrespect better men than you,” Drake warned.

“Why not?” Nollin replied. “You do it all the time.”

Drake reached for his sword.

“Stop!” Farfalee commanded. “This discussion has limped forward long enough.”

Drake left his sword sheathed. Nollin smirked at him. By now the entire delegation had become engrossed by the argument.

“Yes, we have different viewpoints represented among us,” she continued. “Yes, we have a displacer in our number, and a half giant, and a seedman who publically disgraced us.”

“She’s talking about you,” Drake muttered to Nollin, loud enough to draw a laugh.

“No, Drake, I’m talking about you,” Farfalee corrected. “Nollin’s views are shared by many of our people. Nollin never accepted a bribe from Maldor to hide from his problems in a debasing frenzy of self-indulgence.”

“It didn’t work,” Drake said. “The hiding, I mean.”

“If you speak again, we will leave you behind,” Farfalee threatened.

Drake raised both palms in surrender.

Farfalee smoothed her hands down across her robes. “As I was saying, our delegation represents diverse viewpoints. Some of us have reason to dislike or mistrust one another. But we are all united by a common goal: we want to know what the Prophetess of Mianamon can predict about the outcome of a rebellion. It does no good to speculate about what she will foresee. I think Nollin and
Drake have already debated the possibilities enough for the entire trip. I move we don’t discuss the matter again.”

“Seconded,” Kerick said.

“Any opposed?” Farfalee asked, her intense eyes daring anyone to speak up. Nobody did. “Fair enough. Does any member of this group have a problem with the presence of any other member? Be honest. Speak now, or keep silent hereafter.”

“Aram snores,” Ferrin said.

Several people, including Rachel, strained to resist laughter.

Farfalee looked exasperated. “Does this seem like a useful time for humor?”

“I’m not joking,” Ferrin deadpanned. “It sounds like a bear drowning in a tar pit.”

Bursts of laughter escaped several people, including Rachel. Aram really did snore.

“I take no pleasure in traveling with a displacer,” Delissa said. The mood suddenly became much more sober. A couple of the other seedmen murmured agreement.

“Galloran entrusted Nedwin with the piece of my neck,” Ferrin assured her. “He can slay me at will.”

“I just hope it won’t be too late,” Nollin muttered.

Ferrin folded his arms. “Just as Drake can do little about the cowardly reputation of his people, I can’t do much about the untrustworthy reputation of mine.”