Read Dreamwielder Online

Authors: Garrett Calcaterra

Tags: #FICTION/Fantasy/Epic

Dreamwielder (29 page)

Talitha sat, too, and regarded them all silently for a moment. Taera's face was bruised and swollen, but she sat erect and proud. Caile slouched forward with his arms on the table, again annoyed that he had no idea why they were meeting or what was going on.

Talitha sighed, then turned to Siegbjorn. “Tell them what you've learned.”

“Yes,” Siegbjorn said and cleared his throat before continuing. “At the bidding of Roanna, I traveled south to Weordan to gather news of what events have befallen the empire. She has spies there—part of her sorcerer's guild, although they are not sorcerers themselves—and they gather what news they can from the Five Kingdoms. Usually they would have little to say but much nonsense, but it seems much of import has happened of late. Wulfram himself was sent to Kal Pyrthin to dethrone King Casstian when the Emperor heard of your escape, Prince. Your father's imprisonment was short, however. He was set free several days later, and Pyrthinia has declared war upon Sargoth. Already as I was leaving, their forces were assembling at Kylep.”

“Father?” Caile asked. “I didn't think he had it in him.”

“It seems he does,” Siegbjorn said with a shrug. “The Emperor is not one to sit idly by, however. The dark army of his is mobilizing in Col Sargoth, and it is common belief that the Valarion navy will set sail for Kal Pyrthin the moment Guderian's army begins to march.”

“Those are not good tidings,” Caile said. “Our navy is no match for theirs.”

“Perhaps not, but there is more,” Siegbjorn went on. “The wildest rumor I was to hear is that the heir to the Valarion throne has returned and allied himself with Pyrthinia. His name is Prince Parmenios Pallma, they say. To hear of him, he is young and quick with a sword, and it was he himself who freed King Casstian.”

“Impossible,” Caile remarked. “Parmenios was killed with the rest of the Pallma house. Don Bricio himself told me he saw him drown in the harbor of Sol Valaróz. And besides, he was young thirty years ago. Even if he were alive now, he'd be an old man.”

“Perhaps not,” Talitha said. “Siegbjorn, what do they say is Parmenios's nickname?”

“Parmo. And there is something more. It seems he was there on
Pyrthin's Flame
, Makarria, and somehow survived.”

Talitha looked to Makarria. “Do you understand now? Why don't you tell us your grandfather's name. Tell us also where he is from and what you've done to him.”

Makarria could not answer at first, she was so surprised. She was happier beyond description to hear that her grampy was alive but still could hardly believe her ears.
Why didn't he tell me?

“My grandfather's name is Parmo,” she said at last. “He was born in Sol Valaróz but lived with me and my parents near Spearpoint Rock. He was old and sick and about to die, and I was so sad I accidentally dreamt him a young man again. That's when we ran away and got rescued by
Pyrthin's Flame
. He explained a lot of things to me, but he never told me he was a prince.”

“It was out of necessity he never told you,” Talitha said. “If word reached Guderian that the true heir of Valaróz still lived, Guderian would stop at nothing to find and kill him. And whether your grandfather knew of the prophecy or not, he would know that your life was in danger being both a sorceress and of royal blood. You were safer if you didn't know who you were.”

Makarria said nothing. She loved her grandfather, but at the same time she was mad at him, and Talitha trying to defend him only made it worse. In the long run, Parmo's secret had done Makarria little good. He was off fighting a war and here she was, freed from capture at last but facing danger nonetheless and her identity known.

“What do we do now?” Caile asked, breaking the silence. “Are we going to sit idly around while Pyrthinia goes to war against Sargoth?”

“That is for you to decide,” Talitha replied. “I will tell you something more before you all choose your course of action. We are all aware of Wulfram, of course, and the danger he presents, but he is no longer the Emperor's most dangerous weapon.”

“He has more sorcerers?” Taera asked.

“No, something worse. He has created machines of war. In the factories of Col Sargoth, he has been building steam-powered wagons meant to destroy everything in their path. They stand fifteen feet tall, eight feet wide, they are fully armored and armed with battering rams, scythe-like blades at the sides to cut down enemy troops and horses, and turrets along the top for archers. They are of the likes which the world has never seen. Only the half-human, half-machine horrors of the Dreamwielder War surpassed them in destructive power. King Casstian is marching into a death trap.”

“How can you be sure?” Caile asked. “I was in Col Sargoth and saw nothing of the sort. Steam-powered wagons, for sure, but nothing like what you describe.”

“I was not in Col Sargoth only to look after you, Caile,” Talitha said. “I've been spying upon Col Sargoth for many years. The Emperor's factories are in the ground, deep beneath his smelting factories, and he only allows slaves to work on them so as to keep their existence secret. He has hundreds of these machines, and they will cut through the Pyrthinian troops like a scythe through wheat.”

“Then we have to warn Father,” Caile said.

“To what end?” Taera asked. “Father has committed Pyrthinia to war. They cannot retreat now. The Emperor will not let this act go unpunished even if we were to surrender.”

“She is right,” Talitha said.

“We still have to warn Father,” Caile insisted. “I don't know what he has planned, but we have to tell him what he's up against before he faces these machines in the open. He'll have to change his tactics, draw the fighting into wooded areas, something.”

“It's possible,” Talitha conceded. “It is also possible the Emperor will send his machines on regardless—let your father's troops nip at their heels while they destroy every Pyrthinian city in their path.”

“He'll turn our people into homeless vagabonds,” Taera said, and they could all see that she had slipped away into a trance. “I see Kal Pyrthin in ruins, our ships burning in the bay. I see our people wandering aimlessly, hurt and hopeless.”

Taera opened her eyes only to stare away at the table below her. They were all silent for a long moment, lost in their own thoughts. Makarria remembered the sight and smell of the slain
Snjaer Firan
she had come across in the cavern while confronting Kadar.
And that was only eight men dead,
she remembered.
How many will die in this war? Not just warriors but innocent people in the towns and cities? Hundreds? Thousands?
The numbers were incomprehensible to her, but the faces of those dead she had seen were enough.
What if that were Grampy dead? Or my parents? Or Siegbjorn? Taera and Caile?

Makarria turned to Talitha. “Can I stop all of this if I face the Emperor?”

Talitha regarded her silently for a long moment. “It is impossible to say.”

Taera dropped her hands away from her face. “Makarria, no. Don't even think about it. You're too young. You can't hope to defeat the Emperor. Not yet.”

“If there's any chance of her succeeding, then she has to,” Caile objected. “If the Emperor dies then all this stops. Think of the destruction and death we will avert.”

“She's just a girl, Caile,” Taera said, an edge in her voice. “She can't go alone.”

“Of course not. Talitha can go with her. They can take every last
Snjaer Firan
with them, too. What does it matter? If she's ordained to kill the Emperor, how can she lose?”

“It doesn't work that way, Caile,” Talitha said. “Nothing is for certain, especially prophecy.”

Caile dropped his hands down on the table in frustration but said nothing. All of them were silent for a long moment.

“Should I do it?” Makarria finally asked of Talitha.

Talitha sighed deeply. “I cannot decide for you, Makarria. My heart and hope was that I might be able to teach you the ways of Tel Mathir. With knowledge and maturity, your powers would grow and you would be better equipped to face the Emperor if you chose to do so. But this war changes everything. My only advice to you is to disregard the prophecy, all of you. Forget you ever heard it. Caile, if you believe you can aid your father in warning him, then you must go. Makarria, if you believe you can defeat the Emperor and stop this war, then go. Know, however, he has killed sorcerers mightier than you. Though not a sorcerer himself, he has the ability to stint magic right when you are on the cusp of using it. Wulfram may very well be at his side, too. Together, they have defeated all who face them. If you think you can somehow do what others have not, then go. Otherwise, stay here with me. You will be safe for the time being.”

“Whatever the rest of you are doing, I'm not staying,” Caile said.

Makarria nodded. “I will go too, though I don't know the way to Col Sargoth.”

“You can't, Makarria,” Taera pleaded.

“I have to.”

“If that is your decision,” Talitha said, “then I will guide you and help you as I may. What is it you think you can do to stop Guderian?”

“I don't know,” Makarria admitted. “I have to meet him first, then I'll know. Hopefully.”

Talitha closed her eyes and nodded but said nothing.

“Then what of me?” Taera asked.

“I want you to stay here,” Caile said. “If Father and I die, you alone carry the Delios bloodline.”

“Your choice is yours,” Talitha said. “Stay, join Makarria and I, go with your brother, or do something altogether different if you think it best.”

“I will go with Caile,” Taera decided. “My place is with the Pyrthinian people. Perhaps my visions can help us win this war.”

“Very well then,” Talitha said. “Everyone is decided.”

Siegbjorn cleared his throat. “If these are the choices you would make, time is of utmost importance. Let me take you on the airship. There will be danger with armies on the march, but we can sail by night and travel quickly. Perhaps I can get you to the Emperor before the fighting even begins, Makarria.”

“You can take us as far as Arnsfeld,” Talitha said. “From there it is best she and I travel by foot, I think, so as to arrive unnoticed in Col Sargoth. From Arnsfeld, you can take Caile and Taera south to wherever they wish to go.”

“It is done,” Siegbjorn agreed. “Let us leave tomorrow. Already the snows have started, and we cannot tarry if we hope to make it over the mountain passes.”

29
Converging Paths

Natarios Rhodas's chest heaved and his thighs burned as he tromped up the stairs to the Emperor's private quarters. He had been summoned from the houndkeeper's tower, and that meant walking down some four hundred stairs to the main keep and then back up again into the Emperor's tower.
Now I know why he created his steam lift,
Natarios thought, idly wondering if the Emperor would allow him to use the lift next time. When he finally reached the top of the stairs and the doorway to the Emperor's study, two guards opened the doors and stood to the side to allow him entry.

Wulfram and the Emperor were waiting for him. The Emperor motioned for Natarios to sit beside the heating stove, and Natarios did so wordlessly.

“I have a task for you to perform, Houndkeeper,” the Emperor said. “You are to go to Pizer with all due haste and be my eyes and ears. You are to keep a lookout for a girl.”

“Of course, Your Excellency,” Natarios agreed. “Who might this girl be? How will I know her?”

“She is young. No more than thirteen or fourteen years old. She will be coming from the northeast, beyond Ulmstadt, perhaps by airship, but more likely she will be on foot so as not to attract attention. She may have one or more sorcerers from the guild with her. She may also be accompanied by the Pyrthinian prince, Caile, or his sister, Taera. You should be able to recognize them, no doubt. You will take with you gold to pay for information. Bribe innkeepers, farmers, whoever you deem useful to pass on what they may see to you. She must not get by you unnoticed.”

“Yes, of course.”

“You will take with you three ravens,” the Emperor continued. “Send me word the moment they arrive in Pizer. Then follow after them in secrecy if you can and send the other ravens if you are able to learn anything more from your spying.”

“There is a chance,” Wulfram added, “that she may not come at all or come by another route.”

“No,” the Emperor said. “You have gathered the pieces well, my wolf. It is a complex puzzle, but a puzzle that is becoming clearer. The guild has found this girl and has hidden her away from us beneath the Barrier Mountains, but she will come to me. Who comes with her I cannot say, but she will come. I have a sense for these matters. It is in my blood.”

“As you say,” Wulfram conceded. “Still, I wish you would allow me to stay here with you. You may need my assistance.”

“No, your job is to lead my army against Pyrthinia. I will stay here and await the girl. I fear not the prophecy of my childhood. I have done much to change the face of the earth we walk upon. This is not the same world which that seer saw. And besides, you have brought me a great gift, a token of insurance that the girl will surrender herself to me. We cannot fail. Go now, both of you. It is time to bring forth the Sargothian Empire to its true glory and strength.”

It was still dark, some hours before dawn, and the wind was cold on the deck of the airship. Caile bundled his cloak tighter around his shoulders and gazed over the bow at the lights far below them.

“There lies Kylep,” Siegbjorn said.

Caile could still hardly believe how quickly the trip had gone. They had left the cavern of ice at first light three days before and traversed the mountain passes in the safety of the daylight, then continued on throughout the night and left Makarria and Talitha several miles east of Arnsfeld with a few short goodbyes and well wishes. It had been hard for Taera to let Makarria go, but she was strong and smiled for Makarria as they flew away. When dawn approached, Siegbjorn set the airship down to anchor in the highlands to the south and east of the city. They stayed anchored throughout the day, then when the cover of night came again they took to the skies and continued southward, only to stop again when the sun rose. Now on their third night, Siegbjorn, Caile, and Taera approached the city of Kylep. It was a journey that would have taken three weeks by land, even if they had horses and pushed their mounts hard.
The world is changing,
Caile mused, thinking of the airship, the steam wagons he had seen in Col Sargoth, and the war machines Talitha had spoken of.
And not at all for the better.

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