A Warrior's Path Read online

  Orbein shook his head in amusement. The mage had always been that way. Even when he was assisting the then future king as he made his way through the upper ranks, Laernus had avoided other soldiers as if they carried some sort of plague. If ever confronted by one of these soldiers, Orbein was sure the wizard would die of fright before a sword could be stuck into him. This amused the king greatly, and he found himself snickering audibly as his general approached.

  “Highness,” The general acknowledged, snapping Orbein a salute. “You seem in good spirits.”

  Orbein waved off the salute and raised an eyebrow. “Do I?” he asked, amused.

  “Yes, sire,” the general said seriously.

  Orbein flashed a conspiratorial smile. “General Vethisir...”

  The general knew that smile. It was the same smile he had seen years ago when Orbein had vowed he would rule this city. “Yes, highness?” he responded firmly, trying to hide his curiosity.

  “You have done quite well in taking over command of these men. I am genuinely impressed.”

  Vethisir brightened considerably at this, but his pleased expression quickly transformed to concern as he looked out to his soldiers with a furrowed brow.

  “Is there a problem?” the king asked flatly.

  The general looked back to the king with a frown. “To be honest, sire, the men are a little...well, that is to say, they’re quite challenging,” he decided finally, choosing the most benign adjective he could think of.

  Orbein raised an eyebrow. “Pray tell,” he said in an inquiring tone.

  “Well, sire, the men don't seem to understand the definition of training. As you can see around you, they do not spar; they fight. Every day more and more injuries are treated. Some men have almost been killed, so grievous are their wounds. This is what happens when the bulk of our soldiers come from prison,” the general muttered before he could catch himself.

  Orbein glared dangerously at the general, but answered in an indifferent tone, “What is the problem?”

  The general looked confused and strangely timid. “Sire, as I’m sure you remember, one of the most important lessons the men are to learn from their training is how to act as one cohesive unit. They must be able to work with each other, not against.”

  “Indeed,” the king nodded, but he also grinned again in that chilling sort of way. “Have you done nothing to deter this behavior?”

  “Of course, highness!” the general said, trying to keep the surprise from his voice. “I have punished the worst offenders, but still they defy me. I think they take my command as seriously as they take your...” The general trailed off, silently scolding his inability to let his brain control his mouth.

  The king scowled suddenly, and Vethisir felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. He paled visibly, fearing the worst. The general was a strong man, physically and emotionally, but after years under Orbein's command, he knew well to fear his unpredictable moods and whims. Orbein did not seem to notice his change in complexion, however, and as the king's seer approached, the general recovered quickly.

  “Laernus,” he said, a bit relieved.

  Vethisir knew that the king was not fond of the foreign wizard, and realized that this was the source of his scowl. The general often wondered why his king kept the seer in such a high position if he disliked him so. Granted, there were not many magicians in the kingdom, but Orbein was rumored to be a great magician. Surely he possessed enough skill to make this man's presence unnecessary. Then again, Vethisir was not really all that well versed in magic, so he was not entirely sure.

  Laernus bowed before the king. To the general, who always prostrated himself sincerely, the move seemed to lack deference. Apparently, Orbein agreed because he rolled his eyes before speaking, “Rise, Laernus.”

  The seer stood and showed his teeth in an artificial smile. “Highness...General,” he greeted each of them with a nod.

  “What is it you want, Laernus?” the king asked, clearly irritated.

  Again came the smile. “Your highness requested my presence,” he said with his strange accent.

  Orbein flashed his teeth as well, but in more of a sneer than a smile. “You may wait here. I am having a discussion with the general,” he said. Then, an idea seemed to occur to him and he added, “In fact, why don't you train with the soldiers while you wait? I'm sure they would welcome your company.”

  The sudden flush of Laernus’s cheek showed a moment of humility. “If it makes no difference to his highness, I will wait to the side.”

  The king's expression darkened. “It does make a difference to me...but you may wait,” he said. Laernus sulked away, having suddenly lost his sarcasm. Orbein turned back to the general. “What was I saying? Ah yes...Vethisir, I will talk to your men. I believe I can take care of the problem.”

  “As you wish, sire,” the general said, stepping aside.

  Closing his eyes, King Orbein lowered his head and began to whisper a chant. When he looked up again, those eyes glowed with purpose and a decidedly red tinge. He somehow seemed larger and even more intimidating. When he spoke, his voice boomed from the sky and echoed all across the valley. “Soldiers of Ionotu! Heed me, your King Orbein of Niele'itio!”

  A deafening silence overtook the soldiers as they cringed in fear of their monarch, forgetting their bravado of moments ago and the snide comments they regularly uttered since his coronation.

  Now that the king was certain he had everyone's undivided attention, he continued, “I have come to speak to you about a very grave matter. Once, many generations ago, this was a fair and rich city. We were the pearl of the east and an essential ally of a selfish neighbor. It was this neighbor who sent an army to destroy us. But those who come to this city do not find it so easy to leave, and the army had no home to which it could return.

  “Thus is our call to vengeance twofold! For not only was our beautiful city perverted, but also the army that destroyed it was abandoned here. We are the legacy of that terrible past, and the time has come for us to reclaim the home of our ancestors and recapture the former glory of the once bright city. Most importantly, it will be our chance to have justice for the wrongs done to our ancestors. It will take all of you working as one to achieve this goal. You are, as I once was, men of humble beginnings, but together we may rise up and become the founders of a new empire!”

  The king raised his hands triumphantly, and after a moment of silence, a deafening cheer went up from the field. His soldiers cowered before him no more. They were energized and inspired by his short speech, and now that he had them inspired, he delivered his command.

  “Warriors! Heed well your general. Heed him as you heeded me in his rank, for he will guide you on the path to victory. And we shall have victory; I will expect nothing less. And if I find that any of you will be an impediment to that victory, you will surely wish you had the chance to die on the field of battle...”

  His speech over, Orbein turned back to his general to find him staring back with a wide-eyed, bemused expression. He was as much in awe of the man's ability to motivate the crowd as he was shocked by his message. The king smiled. “Vethisir, you look surprised. Surely you cannot deny that this is our duty, to ourselves and to our ancestors,” he said, though he was not explaining himself to the general, rather he was enticing him, as he had the crowd.

  General Vethisir blinked away his surprise. “Far be it from me to question your wisdom, highness, but do you know for certain that the empire still stands?” he asked. Then he added, “What if they do? Do you not think they could amass a considerable force as they obviously have in the past?”

  Orbein laughed. “Do not worry, my friend,” he said. “We will not be without allies, should we need them.”

  A look of confusion washed over the general's face. “What allies, sire?”

  Orbein patted Vethisir's back reassuringly. “All in good time, General. All in good time,” he said, flashing his scheming smile once more.

  Vethisir was still per
plexed, but he would not press the king any further. “Yes, highness. Now, if I may, I have much work to do,” he said, indicating his troops.

  Orbein gave a slight nod, sending his general off. He watched the general go for a moment, then he turned to look pensively at his seer. Laernus stared back, one eyebrow raised in doubt. The king returned it with a scowl. “Surely you, of all people, cannot be surprised,” he snapped.

  The seer shrugged. “No, I simply think you are too ambitious.”

  King Orbein stepped up to Laernus with an unpleasant grimace. “I do not employ you to give me your opinions, seer,” he said threateningly.

  Again came a shrug. “Perhaps not, but I must tell you that your plans are dangerous.”

  The king narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Have you seen something?” he asked.

  Laernus nodded gravely. “All too often, highness. A man with absolute power over his people always falls before them. Especially when his ambitions are so high.”

  Orbein pushed the seer away forcefully, throwing the man to the ground, then leveled a menacing finger at him. “I also do not employ you to tell me silly parables, you fool. If you attempt once more to perform duties beyond your position, I will remove your tongue!” The king turned his finger upward to emphasize his point. “Once more...” he concluded, turning and storming off.

  Laernus opened his mouth to ask the king how he could serve him better. He had, after all, sent for the seer. The fallen man closed his mouth, however, deciding instead to get off the ground and get back to his laboratory. If the king needed him again, he would surely send for him.

  * * *

  Creaking sounds echoed throughout the temple. Emperor Geilo looked up from his prayers and glanced around. All was as it had been since he entered a day and a half ago. The priests still stood on either side of the aisle. Shiu Hi still sat next to him in prayer. Yet the creaking persisted and grew louder. It seemed to come from everywhere around him.

  The emperor stood up and peered at every corner, hoping to find the source of the unnerving sounds, though his tired eyes had difficulty focusing. Suddenly, there was a clang as one of the altar candles toppled over, setting the main tapestry alight. Geilo jumped back, mouth agape at the flames slowly consuming the figure of Minotros. Shiu Hi, however, remained kneeling before the cloth, flames flickering dangerously close to his face. Geilo was about to reach for the tapestry to tear it down and beat out the flames when a voice caused him to freeze.

  “Geilo of Kesitul,” the deep timbre resonated, and all the glass in the temple shattered with explosive force.

  Emperor Geilo fell to his knees and raised up his hands. “Oh, Lord Minotros, I am here,” he said reverently.

  The voice came again, shaking the ground upon which the emperor knelt. “Hear me, Geilo. I have heard your plea and have come to answer.”

  Geilo bent and touched his forehead to the floor before the altar. “I, your servant, humbly await your word, Great One.”

  “Go forth, Geilo. Brandish your sword. Your enemies cannot stand against you. Know this: the aggressor will fall...”

  Geilo looked up just as the flames rippling over the tapestry went out, and in that last moment, he saw fire in the eyes of the god's image. The emperor shuddered as he was reminded of another set of burning eyes; the power behind them inspired the same feeling of insignificance. He looked about, bewildered. “Lord Minotros....” An eerie silence followed his call, and he knew that they were again alone in the temple. He glanced at the high priest, who was returning his look with one of confusion. The emperor's eyes darted around and he noticed with shock that the windows were not broken, and the tapestry showed no sign of fire.

  “What is it, highness?” the priest asked as though nothing had happened.

  “I...I heard Him,” the emperor explained pointing a shaky finger toward the cloth.

  “He spoke to you?”

  Geilo could only respond with a nod.

  “Praise Minotros!” Shiu Hi called. In response the other priests rose up in song. The ceremony was over.

  Geilo stood and looked long and hard at the unsinged tapestry, hoping to find some clue to better understand the message that had just come to him. He was awash in a jumble of confusing emotions. In four words the deity had confirmed Geilo's worst fears. An attack was coming. Although the emperor was very displeased to learn this, Minotros had said that the aggressor would fall. The implications of all this left Geilo feeling very tired and old.

  The emperor had been a young man in the days before the empire, but now he felt it was beyond his time. His empire had known nothing but peace under his rule. Thoughts of how unprepared they were for these circumstances made him feel even worse. What could they do?

  But the aggressor would fall. Geilo clung to this part of the message in the hopes that he would be reassured. As he slowly exited the temple, he repeated it over and over in his mind like a mantra. As they had done for weeks, images flitted just beyond his vision.

  As he exited the temple, the emperor found Etrusin waiting impatiently. The general rushed up to him, concern clearly visible on his face. “Are you well, highness? You were in there for quite some time.”

  Geilo raised a reassuring hand. “I am fine, Etrusin,” he said.

  “What happened?” the general asked.

  The emperor considered his military advisor for a moment. There was much Geilo needed to tell him, but he was too tired to arrange his thoughts coherently. “Meet with me tomorrow, Etrusin. There I will tell you everything, but now I must rest. Take me back to the palace.”

  Etrusin bowed and led the emperor back to his carriage. Although he was eager to learn what the emperor had discovered, he did not press him. From the emperor's state as he left, the general did not feel that he was very pleased with what he had learned, or perhaps he was simply tired from the night of missed sleep. Whatever its cause, Etrusin was sure that Geilo's weariness was warranted and would not disturb him further. The general would hear all tomorrow, for good or ill.

  The emperor stepped up into his carriage, and Etrusin ordered his men to march back to the palace. Inside the carriage, Geilo sat with his face in his hands. Through the weariness he could hear the voice of Minotros playing in his mind. Along with the deep timbre came a feeling of dread. He sat up and shook the feeling off, clearing his mind as he did so. He would not let this affect him so. The emperor knew that he had to be strong for his people. This would be a great test for them. In the past the empire had known peace, and this conflict was to be its first since the unification. If his people emerged triumphant, as the God of Fate had implied, it would be a testament to their ability to survive. In the end they would be stronger.

  Geilo let these thoughts bolster his confidence as the carriage rode on. He would have Etrusin ready his troops. The general seemed sure of their abilities. The emperor hoped that confidence was not misplaced. Shiu Hi had also claimed he could make the military force stronger with the aid of magic. With what had transpired in the temple, the emperor was sure that the high priest would be completely cooperative, even if he had not seen it himself.

  Tomorrow Geilo would meet with the two men, the high priest and the general. Together they would determine a plan of action. The emperor nodded, feeling a little better that he had things, especially his emotions, under control. He had apparently been thinking for a while, though, as he was surprised to feel the carriage slow and come to a stop. Looking out the window he could see the palace looming before him in the sunset. A wave of fatigue washed over him, and all his previous thoughts were replaced by a strong desire to get to bed. The emperor exited the carriage and started making his way to his chambers. Tomorrow would bring another day and a new future for his people.

  * * *

  Urietsin sat staring into the campfire intently, meditating on the random motion of the flickering flames. He found that when he had something to concentrate on, he could focus his attention completely and wash away all the thoughts that c
onstantly raced through his mind. It was something that he tried to do every day since he was a child, when his father had taught him the technique. It left him feeling refreshed and alert, as though shutting off his senses somehow heightened them. He felt at one with his surroundings.

  A snap shattered his concentration, and at first he thought it was the fire that had made the sound. He looked up to see one of the diplomats the emperor had sent with them looking down at him curiously. “Hello,” she said amicably, smiling down at him. “I'm not disturbing you, am I?”

  Urietsin nodded blankly, surprised for a moment by her approach, but then caught himself. “Oh, I mean, no,” he said returning her smile sheepishly.

  She laughed and sat next to him. Urietsin knew of Giunin Ninei, but before they had joined this expedition, he had never seen the one who sat by him now or the tall man who was with them. This woman was the youngest of the three, possibly closest to his age.

  “Tell me, warrior, are you interested in diplomacy?” she asked.

  Urietsin raised his eyebrows and blinked. “Diplomacy?” he repeated blankly.

  The young woman giggled, looking away and covering her mouth as she did so. “I'm sorry,” she recovered quickly. “What I mean is that most of the soldiers don't pay us much attention. They nod when we greet them, they give us food at meal times, but all in all, they act as though we're an inconvenience. You, however, seem to have taken an interest in our small group.”

  The Swift One flushed. He had been keeping a watchful eye on the diplomats ever since they had set out. He was curious about their presence, not to mention drawn by this young woman’s attractive features. Now that he was being confronted about it, he wasn't sure how to respond. “I...I, ah,” he stuttered.