The Kallanon Scales (49 page)

A promise made
was a promise kept, he agreed with Levin, and went on to explain
that the Dragons snatched the Vallorin’s twin sons and no father
could stand idly by and watch that happen.

Horrified,
Levin agreed, for the emotion on Torrullin’s face in the aftermath
did not bear watching. Levin had six children and knew well what he
would do to protect them.

From there it
went. Fires snapped into flame, to the distress of Key-ler,
seemingly the sole Atrudisin without magic, and talking commenced.
Torrullin, Vannis, Taranis, Quilla and Bartholamu were in
discussion with Creed.

It was not as
smooth as it could be and there was too much to cover in hours, but
they talked. Key-ler regarded that as a good sign, a promise to the
future, and hoped all parties would hear clearly.

Tarrant
vanished, recently to new status, to have it nullified by an
unmasking. Villinar’s body was discovered in the forest near the
Academia and Tarrant was the official suspect.

In the
pre-dawn light the round Brother searched for Caltian. To all
present he performed with great skill, for his baiting brought the
Dragon to ground where they thought to contain him, and he held the
Dragon-man captive, and would be honoured for his role in the
night’s activities, but to Caltian it meant little.

The man’s
stillness in the frenetic activity drew his attention.

The woeful
expression on that lean face squeezed at his heart.

He noticed how
his eyes moved continually to the form of the Vallorin amid the
leaders of Atrudis, to turn away, to return as if summoned.

Difficult it
was to read what exactly lay in that expression - awe, among
others. A destiny unfulfilled this night, and now he was without
purpose, but the strength remained.

Caltian
expected to die and instead was condemned to live out an existence
based on a mistruth. It was time to support him, before that
promise left forever.

“Caltian,”
Key-ler called, approaching. There was an open space between Creed
and the Overlords and it was in this no-man’s-land the two found
themselves. The many voices were in the background. An occasional
exclamation sounded, from an Overlord, a profoundly disturbed Creed
individual or a frustrated oath from those around the Vallorin, but
it did not intrude with great effect.

“Key-ler,”
Caltian returned with a welcoming smile. “You did well in finding
the key.”

“I was
petrified.” Key-ler shrugged, but was glad of the praise.

“So was
I.”

“What now?”
The Brother perched on a boulder, smoothing his brown robe over his
knees.

Caltian sighed
and leaned against the same boulder. Key-ler was glad to see his
hands were relaxed.

“They will
talk it out, I guess. Both sides present their case until they
understand each other and then, logically, they will discuss the
war.”

“There will be
a war? It’s changed now.”

“There is no
doubt war comes. Certainly the Murs and their pets will make a
serious play. Did you see the Lumin Siric? He believes in the
beauty of Mother Universe, he fought these Murs ages ago, the final
battle, he said to Levin, only to find it was not so final. That
one will war on his own if he has to, Lumin and Murs are mortal
enemies. And now we know absolutely there are Dragons in Tennet. If
they could snatch the Vallorin’s sons, how long before they attempt
the Vallorin with that Dragon of his?”

“Will he fight
them, do you think?”

“Did you see
his face when those young men were taken? He will fight them. Is he
on our side? I hope so. After tonight I know Atrudis needs a
supreme ruler; we lost our way because we forgot what it
means.”

“It seems the
Vallorin likes you.”

“He has
powerful emotions, that one. Cold and hot. I think he will not tell
Levin the whole truth and I think he is dangerous. I only hope he
uses that against our enemies.”

“He sounds a
bit like you.”

Caltian
straightened and craned his neck up to Key-ler.

“I am serious.
There is a latent ferocity about you, Caltian, a sense of danger
you exude, like him.”

“Well!”
Caltian laughed, subsiding into position. “I will take that as a
compliment.”

“It is not
meant as one,” Key-ler said and his companion did not react. “So,
Tarrant was unmasked.”

“After he
killed Villinar. He worries me, out there alone. He will seek new
allies, a different set of tools. He wants power and will do
anything to get it. Levin has his hands too full right now.”

“And that
could well bite us in our behinds later.”

“My thought
exactly.”

“Caltian, dare
you consider your destiny is to fight other Dragons?”

Caltian
stiffened and manoeuvred his body until he sat facing the Brother.
“You may have something there. My scrying reveals my confrontation
of a Dragon, maybe this one, in a different way or maybe another at
another time. Maybe we had it wrong and I was not meant to kill him
tonight, or kill him at all. Yet a scrying does not lie. Why did I
doubt? It is not over, this destiny of mine.” He rose, staring at
Key-ler. “You are a clever man, my friend.”

“I was only
suggesting …”

“… to be a
friend, I know.” Caltian gazed over his shoulder. “I must speak to
him.” He strode over to the Creed gathering, with new purpose.

Leaving
Key-ler to wonder what mischief his big mouth wrought now.

Torrullin could
not concentrate.

The most
altering event in the history of the Valleur, and he could not
focus.

He left the
majority of the talking to Vannis and Taranis, knowing Taranis’
quiet charm and intelligence and Vannis’ exoticism and presence
would likely have greater impact than his logical approach. They
were a perfect foil for each other and together a greater
mouthpiece than he could be alone. Sometimes it paid to delegate.
Quilla, the diplomat, and Bartholamu, with his serene exterior,
interjected when they saw the need.

His thoughts
were for Tristamil. His son mattered, nothing else did. For the
purposes of building a workable relationship he had not alluded to
Tymall’s nature and the others followed his cue, but of Tymall he
was not thinking. Losing them once to an alternate reality was
debilitating, losing Tristamil so soon after knowing him, really
seeing him, was a wrench he did not know how to deal with.

Levin spoke
for his world and made sense. Thus far he related a brief account
of how the Nine came with both Taliesman and prophecy and went on
to explain Creed, the Web and Overlords. Torrullin remonstrated
over the exclusion of magic.

The
conversation moved on to events on Valaris that led to the mission
and it transpired Valaris was known to Atrudis, as was Vannis.
Their intelligence was old, though, for they knew not of human
settlers to that world and a war nine thousand years back. They
were astonished to learn in the present human and Valleur coexisted
peaceably.

There were
many questions, how to separate Dragon and Vallorin, what to do
about the Taliesman, what did they know of Murs and Mysor, and
more, but time was not on their side and they had to work towards
satisfactory answers as they prepared for war.

He was sick of
talk, and understood not enough was said. The undoing of
misunderstanding and distrust could not be achieved in a few hours.
It would take a decade or two to integrate two histories.
Fortunately, those present understood and chose to deal with
immediate factors.

In the hour
before dawn a Force scout whispered in Levin’s ear that the Murs
mobilised. War was upon them and that became the rallying
point.

“You and yours
must hold the wilderness, Levin,” Torrullin said, forcing his mind
back to the issue at hand. “Attempt to minimise collateral
damage.”

“That was
always the plan.”

“Good, then we
need not discuss it. However, for the foreseeable future your
presence here must be hidden.”

Creed as a
group was horrified. “People will die!”

“You
contradict yourself,” Levin pointed out. “Hold the wilderness, but
hide?”

Torrullin was
firm. “Hear me out. You have Force units all over Atrudis?”

“Every major
centre. A few larger battalions in the hinterlands.”

“They must
defend the people.”

“If we call
the Murs here, we would save many lives!”

Torrullin
nodded. “But we need time, Levin.”

“If you are
hidden, they will believe the Dragon-man hidden,” Taranis put in.
“It may hold them back for a while.”

“Forgive me,
but that makes no sense,” the Creed Controller demurred.

Torrullin
gestured at Vannis, who said, “You have to know where your target
is to hit it hard, to guarantee sufficient confusion, to steal what
you desire most. Your success depends upon that. If the Murs do not
know where the target is, they cannot afford indiscriminate
unleashing. They hold back and we gain time to finalise
strategy.”

“That is one
massive gamble,” Levin muttered. “What if they do worse in
believing themselves thwarted?”

“What if you
draw them here and have not the means to stop then?” Bartholamu put
in. “They are mobilising, your scout tells you; are you fully
mobilised, Levin of Creed?”

Silence.

“They are
Murs,” Bartholamu continued. “You must play with their minds if you
seek to win this war. You need to keep them guessing and, yes,
annoy them to force them into mistakes, and while they are unsure
and disorganised, you bring your entire Force here and, when you
are ready, you hit them with all you have. That will save lives
long term.”

Half of Creed
nodded and the rest were dubious.

“Short term
people will pay for our inaction,” Tellia of Creed said.

“In the time
you buy, we attempt to stop the Dragon,” Torrullin said. “That will
end the war.”

Uncertainty
climbed anew.

“Levin, I am
able to defend myself and this Dragon against a hundred rabid Murs,
but a thousand or two? How many are out there?”

“More than a
thousand or two,” Tellia muttered.

“Anything you
think you are ready for now, here, will not be enough. Atrudis
loses.”

There was more
silence.

“Is there a
chance they will overcome you?” Levin asked of Torrullin.

Vannis smiled.
“Doubtful.”

Torrullin
glared at him. “Vannis, I cannot fight an uncertain population, a
host of Murs, the Dragons and this particular one. He smacked his
chest. “… at the same time. This is not one Darak Or and I am not
infallible.” He turned back to Levin. “Keep the Murs guessing and I
concentrate on our real enemy.” Again, he touched his chest.

“Yes,” Levin
said, his voice firmer.

“Excellent,”
Bartholamu murmured. “I shall tell you how to mess with a Murs
mind.”

Taranis
grinned.

Torrullin
sensed a presence behind him. It was Caltian, more determined than
earlier. The man rediscovered his sense of self. Torrullin was
impressed; it took courage to deal with disappointment.

Wait,
Caltian.

Bartholamu
rose. “Lord Vallorin, with your permission, and yours, Levin of
Creed, I would like to meet with your Force leaders.”

The entire
gathering rose. Levin nodded. “Yes,” he said distractedly. “The
Justices must be given new orders.” He halted when he noticed the
Siric waited on the Vallorin.

“How long can
you hold them off, Bartholamu?”

“It depends on
how eager they are. A few days.”

“How long to
gather Force here, Levin?”

“Without the
Murs realising we are bleeding them away? A few days.”

Bartholamu, I
need as much time as possible to find that Taliesman.

I am aware of
that.

Torrullin
inclined his head. “Go ahead.”

Bartholamu
bowed, took Levin by the arm and led him off. Creed trailed
after.

Quilla
murmured, “Dragon first and then the rest.”

“You forget my
son, birdman.”

Quilla stared
at Torrullin unblinkingly. “Neolone first, Enchanter.”

“Neolone?”
Caltian asked, daring to interrupt.

Four pairs of
eyes shifted to him.

“The Dragon,”
Taranis muttered. “His name.”

“He is
Time’s
timekeeper
?” The Atrudisin was shocked,
but recovered swiftly. “Well, I guess so. According to legend, he
wrote the prophecy.”

“He did,”
Vannis said. He glanced at his grandson. “What of the Xenians? They
cannot stay here.”

“Skye,”
Torrullin muttered. “Lowen. Gods.”

“If I may
suggest?” Caltian said. “Key-ler can lead them to the Academia. The
Force unit based there is now here, and if you aim to use Feet to
draw Murs fire, your crew, the women and the girl would go
unnoticed, and there are catacombs. Key-ler isn’t equipped for war
either.”

“Good. Bring
him over while I explain the situation to them.”

Caltian
hesitated.

“I know what
it is you want to ask and I shall answer. Later. In private.”

Caltian
nodded, and went looking for the round Brother.

Friends are
never parted.

~ Truth

Wilderness

I
t had been a long night. Free now
from their prison, but surrounded by Force.

Though they
sensed a shift in focus during the hours of talk out there, nobody
saw fit to inform them. Krikian and Phet remained with them, and
Camot and his small troop sat nearby whispering. In the protection
of Lowen, Skye and Cat formed a bond and held hands to both draw
and gift comfort. Sometimes they thought Lowen protected them, for
she seemed unfazed. Matt was nearby. He swore to die before he
allowed harm to befall them.