Welcome back to Silvanus and Empire! I hope you don't mind that I took a short break to write about some cool cars I saw yesterday. There is more to me than just zero-award-winning fantasy fiction, after all!
Also, you'll notice I got fancy with the images. Over 9000 hours in Microsoft Paint. Truly I am a modern Renaissance man. Actually I just got tired of trying to find appropriate images on the internet.
In our last chapter, the world has turned upside down. The uneasy alliance of the Stoneheart siblings and the Imperial scribe has been struck, and now the new day dawns, filled with mourning and rage. Read on!
Lyrinn opened her eyes. For a moment, she blinked in confusion, not remembering where she was; realization then came flooding back. “No,” she moaned, collapsing back on to her sleeping pallet. She felt sick to her stomach. It wasn’t just a nightmare, she thought. Last night really happened.
She disentangled herself from her bedclothes and dressed slowly. The hollow, painful feeling in the pit of her stomach didn’t abate when she stepped outside into the late spring sunlight.
“Lost One.” Lyrinn turned at the sound of her name to see two young male Silvani standing guard on either side of her tent. They were armed with longbows and knives. The taller of the two had spoken. “Your mother charged us with your safety,” he said. “Is there anything you need of us?”
Lyrinn shook her head. “No, thank you,” she said. “Just where is my mother now?”
“In the chieftain’s tent,” the other Silvani said. “I heard also that Sight-of-Eagles has returned.”
“He has? Oh….” Lyrinn blinked, her stomach doing somersaults. “Thank you,” she told both her guards, and then strode off towards what was, until recently, Hammerfist’s home. She paused outside the tent flap and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing, she thought, slipping inside.
Sight-of-Eagles was there, kneeling in the center of the tent. His hair was in wild disarray and his clothes were spattered with dirt and mud. He looked up as Lyrinn entered. His eyes were red-rimmed and raw.
Lyrinn knelt down next to him and put her arms around him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hugging him fiercely. “It’s my fault. I might as well have killed him myself.” She choked back tears. “I just… I can’t believe what he did…”
“It’s not your fault,” croaked Sight-of-Eagles. He held on to Lyrinn tightly for a moment. “You couldn’t have known. None of us could have known about the viper dwelling among us.” He pulled himself away from Lyrinn and stood up, weariness evident in his movements. “My father’s death will not go unanswered, Lost One. This I swear to you now.” He looked around the tent. “I have much I need to talk to you about,” he said. “Your mother… is she nearby?”
“I am here,” said Spirit as the tent flap twitched aside. She slipped into the pavilion with her usual grace in spite of the large bruise on her left temple. “Sight-of-Eagles, did you have any luck last night?”
“No,” he said, his voice tight and brittle. He turned away from Lyrinn and her mother and grasped the pavilion’s thick center pole. Wrapping his fingers around it, he leaned heavily on it for support. “The Stoneheart fled south through the night, my sister in close pursuit, if I have read the tracks correctly. Their trails disappeared once I reached the river. I can only assume that Mouse pursued him south into Stoneheart territory.”
“I am sorry, Sight-of-Eagles.” Spirit reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder. Lyrinn watched him tense visibly at her mother’s touch. The tent pole creaked under the young Silvani’s grip. “You shall have justice, my young friend, I swear to you.”
“My father’s killer will be brought to justice, by my deeds or another,” he said. He looked over his shoulder at Spirit. “My father’s pyre awaits. I should prepare for his funeral.” He let go of the tent pole and turned. “I will send word when the ceremony is to begin.” He strode from the tent, massaging his hand.
“Poor boy,” Spirit murmured. “So full of fury at his father’s death.” She shook her head, wincing slightly.
Lyrinn stood up and took Spirit’s hand. “Does it hurt, Mother?”
“Only when I breathe, my dear child.” Spirit smiled at her daughter and patted her arm. “Come, let us sit. Your guards said you were searching for me?” She sank gracefully to her knees and settled herself on the floor of the tent. Lyrinn joined her.
“I just needed to see a friendly face,” Lyrinn said. “I’m so confused, Mother. Why? Why did it have to happen?” She bit her lip, her face crumpling. “Why did Hammerfist have to die? And why Caddoc?” Her voice cracked and broke, and she was soon crying in her mother’s arms. “He was my friend,” she wailed. “H-how could he have… how could he have done such a thing?”
Lyrinn felt her mother’s arms around her. “I’m sorry, dearest,” Spirit said. “I hoped to spare you this pain… but it’s time you learned the truth.”
Lyrinn pulled back from her mother, wiping at her face and sniffling. “What do you mean, Mother? W-what is it you’re trying to say?”
“Lost One, you’ve lived nearly your whole life among the Stonehearted across the river. Please, do not tell me you are genuinely surprised that one of them murdered Hammerfist. The Stonehearted have hated us the moment the first of them set eyes upon us all those summers ago. They measure their victories in the drops of our blood that they spill. There is not one Stoneheart, alive or dead, that I would entrust my life to, nor your life either. Especially not to your friend Caddoc.”
Lyrinn shook her head. “No, Mother, you’re wrong. Not Caddoc. He’s…. he was my friend. He was different! He didn’t see the color of my hair and dismiss me as just another Wildfolk witch. I… he couldn’t have done what he did without some sort of reason, Mother, it just doesn’t make any sense otherwise!”
“My dear one, I wish I did not have to tell you such things as these, but Caddoc deceived you. The ways of the Stonehearted are treachery and misdirection. Nothing is truly as it seems with them. This Caddoc, where did he hail from? Another settlement nearby the valley?”
“No, he said he was from Imperial City,” replied Lyrinn. “But what would that matter?”
“Imperial City?” Spirit turned pale. “This is worse than I thought. Lost One, this is terrible news. He could have been sent by the Emperor himself.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Lyrinn shook her head. “Caddoc’s a scribe, not a spy! He said he was sent to Annex as punishment for questioning the Emperor’s teachings, and to relieve that old vulture Oren.”
“Oren? Oren still lives?” Spirit’s eyes grew wide. “This is worse than I thought. Lost One, I…” She looked away for a moment. “Owl, forgive me,” she murmured, before turning back to look at her daughter. “Lost One, Oren is an agent of the Emperor himself. He played a part in your father’s murder.” She hesitated. “As did Caddoc’s father, Longwalker.”
“What?” Lyrinn gaped. “Mother, I don’t understand what you’re talking about. How can you know these things?”
Spirit took Lyrinn’s hands in hers. “What I’m going to tell you will be hard for you to hear,” she said. “Please, just listen, my dearest. And know that I would have given anything to spare you this.” She let go of her daughter’s hands and took a deep breath.
“Your father and I, as you know, had left the safety of the forest and moved to the south side of the river before you were born. Owl wished to end the hatred and violence of the past fivescore summers, and he thought that there were those among the Stonehearted that felt the same way. Two of them in particular, Oren and Longwalker, were the ones who became our friends.
“Longwalker we had known since before we had come to live on the south side of the river. He was an Imperial caravan guardsman, and would come every autumn to keep the Stonehearted grain shipments safe on their way to Imperial City. We called him Longwalker because unlike the other caravan guards, he would never ride a horse. At any rate, he befriended Owl after rescuing him from a gang of Stoneheart ruffians that had been out looking for trouble.
“Longwalker was strong, quick witted, and above all, kind. He became close friends with Owl, and then Owl and myself both after we had moved to the outskirts of Annex. For saving his life, Owl bestowed upon Longwalker the only honor we have to give as a people – he gave him the Mark of Silvanus on a medallion.”
“The Mark? On a medallion… the same as Caddoc’s? Is that why you think Longwalker was his father?”
Spirit nodded. “Yes, my dear. There was never any one to have been given such an honor in nearly a hundred seasons, and Longwalker was the last. The medallion could only have been his.” She shook her head. “Longwalker was not alone in his treachery,” she said. “That snake Oren was the one who turned him from us and to the Emperor’s own ends. He deceived us all – came to us with promises of peace between the Stoneheart and Silvani. He would visit us, help your father when I had become too big to help while I was carrying you, and would speak incessantly of his grand ideas for ending the hostilities between our two people. Finally, shortly after you were born, Oren and Longwalker came to us and said that an ambassador from Imperial City was coming to Annex and wanted to meet with the Silvani chieftain to broker peace. They wanted us to lead the delegation.
“Your father was overjoyed; he saw this as the end of all our hard work. The arrangements had all been made – we were to lead the Imperial delegation across the river and to the meeting point. But once we were in the forest… we were betrayed.” Spirit let out a ragged sigh. “Arrows rained down on us from all sides. I watched Longwalker, a mad gleam in his eye, cut down your father from behind. Oren snatched you from me and fled into the forest. I went to run after him but I was struck on the back of the head. The rest… The rest I am grateful that I do not remember clearly.”
Lyrinn slumped down where she was sitting. “This is… this is all so much,” she said. “How can this all be?” She shook her head, looking over at Spirit. “But… but even if what you say is true… that doesn’t mean that Caddoc—“
“Lost One, don’t you see?” Spirit took Lyrinn by the shoulders and looked into her face. “Caddoc’s father betrayed and murdered your father, and yet he wears that medallion with pride. He’s the son of Longwalker, my dearest; Caddoc is the son of the man who killed your father. And now the same accursed bloodline has struck again, murdering Hammerfist! There are no coincidences, my daughter – not like this. Caddoc came to Annex to finish what his father started all those years ago at the Emperor’s behest: destroy our people! He is a monster from line of monsters, all sent by the undying Emperor Jhosin to wipe us from this realm. He must be stopped, Lost One, before he does more harm to our cause!”
“But Caddoc… what could he do? If what you said… if it’s true, he could be back in Annex right now…”
“Yes,” Spirit said. “He could be back in Annex, giving his report to Oren. They will send word to Imperial City that his mission has been a success, and soon the Emperor’s armies will fill the valley once again. Without Hammerfist’s leadership, we will be destroyed.”
“What can we do?” Lyrinn looked around, her heart beating in her chest. “What can any of us do? The whole might of the Emperor, brought down upon us… it would be like standing under a waterfall! The river would run dry before his power is exhausted.”
“Be at ease, my child.” Spirit smiled gently. “We are not without our defenses. Think, Lost One. There is but one way in and out of this valley that such a huge force could use, is there not? The mountain passes are too dangerous, and too slow. The only way is through the western road.”
“Yes, of course, the Cliffway,” said Lyrinn. “The Stonehearts call the waterfall pass the Lemon Squeeze. From what I’ve heard it’s just a tunnel through the rock, the only way to get large caravans in and out of the valley. But it could take weeks to block that off by hand, Mother – Caddoc will have sent his report back to Imperial City by then, and we’ll never be able to block the entrance in time to stop the Emperor’s army!”
“It will not take weeks,” Spirit said. “My daughter, have you forgotten the power that lies within you? That tunnel was carved from the living rock of this valley, Lost One, and is within the scope of your power.” She smiled grimly at Lyrinn. “We can prevent any messengers from leaving the valley – and if we are too late for that, we can prevent any army from entering, as well.”
“Mother, are you sure? I’ve just begun to learn how to use these powers… am I strong enough to do such a thing?”
“You are, Lost One.” Spirit stroked her daughter’s hair. “You will need to be close enough to see it, but you have the power within you, my dear one.”
The tent flap opened and one of Lyrinn’s guards poked their head in. “Please excuse my interruption,” he said, “but Hammerfist’s funeral rites are ready to begin.”
“We shall be there shortly,” Spirit said to the young Silvani. He nodded and retreated from view. “Come, my dear,” she said, pulling Lyrinn to her feet. “We will do what we must to protect the future of our people, Lost One. But first, we must bid farewell to a great man.”
Lyrinn nodded, wiping at her face again. Her mind a whirling jumble of conflicting thoughts, she followed her mother out into the bright mid-morning sunlight.