The Path of Destruction (Rune Breaker) (19 page)

The item didn't jog any memories for the assembled, but Jaks snorted rudely again and chuckled. “Why not offer him the 'Rune Breaker'.”

Liytheed and Percival stifled their own amusement while Ru seethed, but Tal Eserin stroked his chin. “I've never heard of it, but I think I can give you some help. The road to Rivenport will take you a week in good conditions and a petition to the central library, if I recall correctly, takes days.”

He inclined his head to Percival. “With your leave, captain, I would like to cast a Wind Missive to the Historical Society on behalf of them, so that their petition will get there ahead of them and save them time.” A bittersweet expression touched his eyes, “A child should not be separated from their parents any longer than is needed.”

It didn't take any longer than the span of a breath for Percival to agree. “Of course. It is likely that our losses might have been much, much greater if not for their help.” He dipped his head to Kaiel, Brin and Raiteria in turn.

“The Army of Solgrum will do whatever we can to aid you on your way then. We have plentiful rations and surplus equipment, as well as up-to-date maps of the region and minor deterrents for the most common spirit beasts in the area.” He spread his arms. “For tonight, we offer you what I promised: the protection and hospitality of our camp.”

Unaccustomed to other hailene speaking to her in gratitude and with overtures of friendship, Taylin raked a hand through her hair and looked elsewhere. “Thank you. We'd be most grateful.”

After summoning a runner to spread the word about the army's guests, Percival concluded the meeting.

Tal Eserin rose and approached Kaiel. “I'll be standing by to send your missive to Rivenport. Just bring it to me once you've composed it.”

“Much obliged.” said Kaiel. “Incidentally, what's the largest you can send?”

“You plan to send something more than the petition to the central library?”

Kaiel scratched his chin. “Hedging my bets by checking in with the Bardic College arm in Rivenport. They haven't heard from me since I reported that I was acting as liaison between the Grandmother of the Clan of the Winter Willow and King Solgrum. Much has changed.” He spared a glance for Taylin who was stretching from too long spent sitting at the table. “And grown more complicated. That, and paying a boat to go anywhere near Kimean waters is going to cost a great deal.”

“Ah.” said Tal Eserin. “I understand. Rest assured that, as one who has earned the title 'Windmason', I can send any missive you can come up with, provided you aren't sending a saga or storybook.”

“Too bad,” Kaiel replied with a cheeky grin, “Before this is over, I suspect the College really will expect me to write a book on it.”

After making sure Kaiel knew where to find him, Tal Eserin took his leave.

With a free meal now on the horizon, Raiteria managed to muster her irreverence once more. “Okay, everyone: we can't keep tying up the command tent like this—we should find our way to the mess!”

“That does sound good right about now.” said Taylin. “And something to drink: my mouth feels like fired clay.”

Brin nodded in agreement. “Same here. Raising a seal that large is the same as running fifty miles as far as my body is concerned. A big meal and a pitcher of beer would be wonderful. And if they happen to have a tub and hot water around afterward, it would be like being cradled in Hessa's arms.”

Even Ru, despite not voicing it, seemed eager to take the edge off the battle and tense aftermath.

As the group headed out, Kaiel hung back, his eye on Taylin and his mind on her story.

There were historical accounts and emerging evidence that corroborated what she suspected. In the years leading up to and during the War of Ascension, the hailene had pushed the boundaries of applied magic, creating technologies the likes of which the world had never seen. And some of them had to do with using magic to permanently alter living creatures.

The Thirteen Nations Accord, among other things, like military airships, strictly prohibited such techniques from being applied to sapient beings. The practice had been stamped out everywhere in the known world.

Everywhere, that was, except Mon Sulus Kime: the precise place they were headed.

“I wish I knew what you really are... for your sake..” He muttered to his friend and adoptive sister's back.

“Isn't it obvious?” Ru's voice suddenly beside him made Kaiel flinch, much to the dark mage's clear amusement. And without any elaboration, he left, floating as he was wont to, just inches off the ground.

'Leytic noted in his examination that the confluence of magical energy within the spark-afflicted smith's body is similar, but not identical to those found in dragons. However, without fresh, uncontaminated samples, this will likely remain just a hypothesis.'

~ excerpt from the journal of Lena Hiddakko.

***

It was quite late by the time bellies were filled, messages were sent, and camp had been broken. Tal Eserin saw to it that the group was given adequate space near the heart of the army's encampment.

Making camp didn't require much: it was a fine, warm night, and nearly everyone opted for bed rolls only instead of pitching a tent.
Nearly
everyone: Ru disappeared into the House at the first opportunity and didn't re-emerge until morning.

The rest were too tired, confused, or conflicted to do much else but try and get what sleep they could. And they all knew they needed it, as the next day would involve embarking on a lengthy trip through harsh, spirit beast haunted wilderness to reach the Passage of Conquerors and Rivenport beyond.

***

Before the disc of the sun, Ola, was fully above the hills to the east, Percival appeared with Jaks and a contingent from the quartermaster carrying a litter of supplies. He arrived to find Kaiel and Rai up and about, cooking some Albuk's porridge over a small fire.

“Morning.” Percival greeted them.

Rai was intent on the food and didn't even spare him a glance. Kaiel however, stood with respect; straightening his shirt as he did. “Good morning, General Cloudherd. I see the leg is better.”

Percival nodded. “Much. In fact...” He tossed something to Kaiel, who caught it deftly. “A token of my appreciation.”

Taking a look at what he'd just caught, Kaiel blinked in confusion. It was a metal flask about twice as wide as his thumb and just a bit longer. Atop it was a mechanism that looked something like the hammer of a firearm. “I...” he started.

“Pull the lever back sharply.” Percival said helpfully.

Kaiel put his thumb on the thing that looked like a gun's hammer and pulled it back as Percival instructed. There was a scraping noise and suddenly a tongue of flame sprang from a port revealed by the pulled lever. Shocked, Kaiel let go of the lever. A spring caused it to slide back into position, covering the port and snuffing the flame.

A grin spread across the chronicler’s face. “Light's grace, that's fantastic. Where did you get it?”

“There's a Rizeni tobacconist I favor from back in my sellsword days—he's got a man that makes them and he gives 'em away with bulk shipments. Used to give away cases of matches, but now he gives you one of these. Calls it an auto-striker.” A wan look came to Percival's face, making him look far older than he was. “'
Back
in my sellsword days'. Guess I'll be
going
back to those days now that Solgrum's dead.”

Kaiel flicked the lever, watching the flame ignite once again. “Not necessarily.” He'd actually been giving that some thought—along with so many other things of late.

“Yes, necessarily.” Percival heaved a sigh and glanced back at his soldiers who all remained stone-faced in discipline. “We'll be lucky if they wait for us to get back to Daire to start the succession war. You know how the Principalities are.”

Snuffing the flame again, Kaiel nodded slowly and straightened his back. “I do indeed, General. I was born and raised here. But I also know the history of Torm Dondaire. Solgrum (who bought his way onto the throne, yes?), paid off the merchants to oppose Prince Rayneir II and hired you to provide the muscle to back it?”

Though Percival nodded, Kaiel didn't bother waiting to see if he did because he already knew that much was true. “But the people never believed in him. Most of them hated him.”

“They hate us as well.” said Percival. “They aren't thrilled to have minotaurs and hailene in their midst.”

Kaiel shook his head. “No, I don't think so. Granted it's been years, but last I was in Torm Dondaire, they were an open people. I suspect that they only hate you for your connection to Solgrum. His treatment of you aside, I doubt you would argue if I said that Desminon Solgrum was not a man of the people.”

“What difference does it make why they hate us if they still hate us?” asked Percival with an air of exasperation.

A clever smile spread across Kaiel's face. “Because there is a ruler that the people want in charge of their nation, General. I heard the rumors while I was in Daire City, saw how the priests of Pandemos talked... Rayneir II yet lives. And she will try and make her claim now that Solgrum is dead and whatever bribes and politicking he had in play are buried alongside him.”

Percival stroked his chin in thought. “You're suggesting we return to Daire and declare loyalty to Rayneir II then? It has merit; if she'll have us. We will be on the side that the people prefer. And seeing as Solgrum ensured that we are the largest standing army in the principality, it would very likely be the winning side.”

“The general rank suits you.” Kaiel decided. “Tacticians and brave men are worth much, but it is the man who considers the council of others that holds the greatest advantage in battle.”

“In a lot of things.” Percival observed. “My thanks, Chronicler Arunsteadeles; to you and your companions. As you can see, I’ve mustered what supplies we can offer. Take what you want and can carry. Whatever's left, just leave here and my people will retrieve it.”

Kaiel inclined his head. “My thanks as well, General Cloudherd. May I one day write a tale of the time I met a man destined for greatness.”

***

Within the hour, everyone was up. The quick and largely tasteless repast of Albuk's was bolted down and the group started in on sorting through the supplies Percival left them.

Gaddigan was refitted with new cerato-leather saddlebags designed to be more comfortable for the horse over long distances. They were also loaded with dried meat, grain, and other food staples as well as more up-to date camping supplies.

Of more interest were several clay jars of a bitter smelling tincture that could be rubbed onto an animal or person to make them less appetizing to predators. It was the secret to how the army's scouts were able to range so far afield without fear of being stalked by all but the most starved or territorial creatures, including spirit beasts.

Taylin hardly spoke unless spoken to throughout the morning's packing. Everyone respected that and kept the tone of conversation light, skirting the burning questions they wanted to ask even though they knew Taylin couldn't answer them.

“So this is the dangerous leg we're heading out on?” Raiteria asked Kaiel as she coiled a finely braided spidersilk rope onto the horn of her pony's saddle.

Kaiel was just getting done buckling the last of his own horse's saddlebags on and turned to give her a grave nod. “To reach the Passage of Conquerors from here, we have two choices: South through all the tiny coastal principalities; a trip that would take weeks and fail to make Immurai's deadline, or west and south; through the Principality of Khish.

“Khish is run by Denaiian aesthetics who stick to their cloisters and have no need to make safe paths. In fact, they prefer the place crawling with spirit beasts and big predators—keeps outsiders away fairly well.”

“Oh, the
mad
kind of Denaiian.” Rai said, nodding sagely.

“I hesitate to call them mad. They don't hurt anyone, not like the sect that runs Calderia. They just let the wild nature of the world do their guard duty for them.” Kaiel shrugged. “Not unlike the elves of the Tresholm, really. Just replace Denaii with Sylph and it's much the same.”

Raiteria made a face as she patted the pony on the nose for behaving while being prepared for travel. “I just don't trust Denaiians in general. Because they don't trust halflings.”

Making a non-committal noise in his throat, Kaiel waved the idea away. “The mainstream sects might have some less than kind things to say about
nir-lumos
, but I've known halflings that worship the Lawgiver. They're mostly
nir-ley
and
nir-lato
.”

The difference, to everyone but halflings, was cultural.
Nir-ley
halflings had given up the nomadic lifestyle many centuries ago and with it much of what
nir-lumos
considered the 'halfling religion', a mix of worship for Pandemos, Sylph and Hessa as the wife of Pandemos. They were mostly rural, living in farming enclaves and worshiping Hessa first and foremost.

Nir-lato
was a
nir-lumos
catch-all term for halflings that no longer confined themselves to any specific way of halfling life; living anywhere they wished and worshiping who they wished. The
nir-lumos
often referred to them as 'city halflings', which was highly inaccurate.

It was common for
nir-lumos
to hold a superstition that they were a race apart from their kin, and while they were all still 'cousins', the offspring of any cross-lifestyle couple would be infertile.

Rai shook her head sadly. “Poor, poor cousins. I wouldn't give up the family and freedom of the caravan for anything.”

Choosing not to get into a cultural argument, Kaiel merely nodded and double-checked all the ties and buckles on his saddle and packs. “In any event, we should be fine. We can rub the mounts down with that tincture at night and sleep in the House. In three days' time, we should be on the Passage of Conquerors, which is relatively well patrolled by King Nov's own army.”

“How long after that?” Raiteria asked, the usual mischievous glint leaving her eyes.