The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy (37 page)

Zecus glanced at his father, nodded, and stood straight. Jak mimicked his friend’s response, reminded for a moment of similar quiet admonishments from his own father. A flicker of melancholy washed through him, but Broedi’s deep voice quickly chased it away as the hillman resumed speaking.

“Nundle has tried to roast the lamb before slaughtering it, but that is essentially what happened. We were kept waiting for two days, during which time we only saw Nelnora’s high priest. This morning, he brought us to the center of the temple, straight to the antechamber of Nelnora’s viewing room. There, he—”

“Broedi?” interjected Khin in his wispy, drawn-out manner. “You really should explain. Few are as familiar with the temple as you.”

Broedi peered at the aicenai and nodded.

“You are right, of course. I forgot.”

Jak frowned, worried. He had never heard Broedi utter the phrase, ‘I forgot.’

Scanning the faces of the people about the room, the hillman rumbled, “At the center of the temple is a large, circular chamber where Nelnora and her servants keep a close eye on Terrene.”

Nikalys asked, “So the Watcher of the World truly watches the world?”

Broedi’s eyes narrowed sharply.

“The Celystiela did
not
earn their titles based on playmen’s whimsy.”

Nikalys did not flinch at Broedi’s harsher than normal tone. Keeping his own voice firm, he said, “It was an honest question.”

Jak glanced at Zecus with a raised eyebrow. The Borderlander appeared confused as well. Broedi had been as steadfast as a mountain since they had each met him, rarely exhibiting anything other than a quiet and calm confidence. As Broedi continued to glare at Nikalys, Jak’s unease grew.

Tobias quickly interjected himself, saying, “Of course it was, young man. Please forgive Broedi’s sharp tone. We have not slept well the past few days.”

Broedi eyed the tomble, a slight frown on his lips, and quietly admitted, “I am tired.”

Jak tensed. The hillman’s short and soft acknowledgement said more than a thousand words. Broedi was never tired. Ever. On the journey from Smithshill to the enclave, the hillman had barely slept, keeping constant watch over the siblings. Something was very wrong.

A quiet moment skipped past before Tobias said, “Perhaps I should speak, Broedi? I saw Nelnora first, after all.”

Broedi pressed his lips together, let out a long sigh, and took a few steps back.

“Please.”

Using his walking stick to brace himself, Tobias slid off his chair and turned to face the room, leaving his back to Lady Vivienne. Eyeing Nikalys, he said, “Nelnora indeed watches the world from her chamber, searching for imbalance and disorder. It is her role.” Frowning, an acerbic note entered his tone as he muttered, “It is her purpose.”

Kenders said softly, “It sounds as if you don’t much like her purpose.”

Shifting his gaze to her, Tobias said, “Her purpose I respect, dear. It is the Goddess herself I—” He cut off and, with a short wave of a hand as though he were shooing a pest, murmured, “No matter. My personal feelings are not pertinent.” Staring about the room, he raised his voice, saying, “As it were, Nelnora would only see us one at a time, and I was asked in first.”

Before he could stop himself, Jak asked, “Why?”

Tobias’ gaze shifted to regard Jak. Chairs creaked as a number of other people in the room turned their heads as well.

“Why was I first?” asked Tobias.

“No,” said Jak with a quick shake of his head. “Why did she only see you one at a time?”

If Tobias was annoyed at the interruption, he did not show it. Nodding his head, he said, “We thought it odd as well and asked Tenerva that exact question.” A smirk spread over his lips. “We were told we could either ‘accept her Eminence’s terms or leave.’”

From beside the hearth, Commander Aiden said, “Not much of an option.”

“No, it was not,” agreed Tobias. “And as I had been waiting a long time to speak with her, it was not worth negotiating the terms.” A curiously indignant edge had slipped into his voice. “So, I marched straight in to the viewing chamber and found the Goddess waiting for me atop the dais in the room’s center.” His tone turned mocking as he added, “Sunlight streamed through the crystal dome above, shining straight down on her. Very impressive looking, I assure you.”

Jak exchanged a quick look with Zecus. The Borderlander appeared to have noticed Tobias’ disdain as well.

“Beside her,” continued Tobias, “hovering in the air, was a shimmering…‘window’ is the best word for what I saw. As Tenerva shut the doors behind me, Nelnora waved a hand, beckoning me to come closer.” He held up his walking stick a few inches and spoke, vinegary resentment seeping into each word. “I’m not a fast walker by any means, but I made sure to take my good time to reach her. After years of keeping me from the barn, it was her turn to till the blasted fields.”

Again, Jak glanced at Zecus. This time, even Joshmuel cocked an eyebrow.

“Upon reaching the dais,” continued Tobias. “I stared into the window she had woven.” His eyes went unfocused as an expression of dismayed wonder spread over his face. Dropping his chin an inch or two, he stared blankly at his empty chair. Jak braced himself. This was going to be bad.

“Ages ago,” began Tobias. “When the White Lions’ presence was appreciated and not reviled, I had need to visit Gobas. A dispute between two barons had arisen, with both claiming a rare stretch of fertile land in the Borderlands. Duke Caleb—the sovereign at the time—was tired of their bickering and called on the Lions to render a judgment. When the request arrived, Miriel and I were the only ones in Freehaven. We played a hand of knuckles to see who would go and—”

“Hold a moment,” interjected Nikalys. “You played placards to decide who would go?”

Tobias shrugged.

“It was as good a way as any.”

“Against Ketus’ champion?” pressed Nikalys.

Tobias gave a quiet, dry chuckle.

“I always believed I might one day beat Miriel. However,
that
was not to be the day. I lost. Badly if I recall. She had a stocked wagon. Me, a measly two pair.”

Shaking his head, the tomble stared about the room.

“The important thing is I was on my way to Gobas. And, as I had never been there before, I was forced to port to Lakeborough and travel overland the rest of the way. Gods, but that was a dreadful trip. Nothing but muck and swampflies for the first half, followed by dust and grass the second.”

Jak wondered where Tobias was going with this.

“And as desolate as the Borderlands are—” he glanced to Zecus and Joshmuel “—pardon my insult, when I arrived in Gobas, I was pleasantly surprised. It was a truly wondrous city. Strange, yes, but wondrous. The food took some getting used to, though. The spices used were rather unique.”

Jak hid a slight smile. Zecus had said the same thing about Southlands’ meals.

“Once I settled the dispute—both barons were pompous and insufferable, so I awarded the land to a family of shepherds instead—I stayed in the city for weeks longer than I had intended. The markets there were astounding. Nothing like the Grand Square in Freehaven, mind you, but wondrous nonetheless. I spent a week wandering about before I reluctantly left and returned to Freehaven.”

He paused a moment and frowned.

“I never did make my way back.”

Shaking his head, he drew a deep, fortifying breath and said, “The moment I saw the city through Nelnora’s window, I recognized it. Only, it was in shambles. Anything wood was either ablaze or already a smoldering ruin. The buildings not already collapsed were severely damaged. Half of the Duke’s Hall was a pile of stone and timber. Great, gaping holes split the city’s walls, the streets were thick with oligurts, razorfiends, and mongrels. Demon men, too. All of them, tearing the city apart.”

Jak stole a quick glance at the two Borderlanders beside him. Both men’s expressions were oscillating between sorrow and outright anger.

Commander Aiden muttered, “So they’ve reached Gobas.” The soldier spoke with a hint of sadness, but his words were mostly a statement of fact.

Kenders asked, “What of the people who lived there?”

Tobias peered at her a moment before answering, “Most were dead. Some were not.” He frowned before adding, “Yet.”

“How many souls lived in Gobas?” asked Nikalys.

Lady Vivienne answered the inquiry, saying softly, “Before all this? Over fifty thousand.” Her tone carried none of its usual directness.

“Pardon me, great baroness,” said Joshmuel. Everyone turned to look back to the corner. “But when our family moved through, at least twenty thousand of my countrymen were living outside the walls.”

Zecus said, “There were even more when I went back.”

The room went silent.

Jak shut his eyes. He hoped most of Gobas had fled ahead of the attack.

After a few moments of quiet, Kenders spoke, saying, “We need to help them. Whoever’s left.”

Opening his eyes, Jak stared at his sister and nodded.

“She’s right. Perhaps we could open a port and rescue some?”

The dark look that Tobias and Broedi exchanged was answer enough to their plea, but Commander Aiden gave voice to what Jak was already thinking. In a soft, regretful tone, the soldier said, “A noble thought, but not something we can do.”

“Why not?” pressed Kenders.

A few heads turned in surprise when Nikalys was the one who answered.

“When you’re trying to win a hand of knuckles, you don’t play symbols up.”

Jak eyed his younger brother.

“Pardon?”

Swiveling in his chair, Nikalys said, “If we show up to help the people of Gobas, the God of Chaos and the Cabal will know for a fact we—” he glanced briefly at Kenders “—exist. And that there is some sort of force ready to oppose him or her. They might adjust plans accordingly.” He shook his head. “We cannot help Gobas.”

Jak glanced around the room at the people who typically made the decisions. Broedi. Lady Vivienne. Commander Aiden. All of them wore the same grim look. Sergeant Trell and Tobias, too.

“You’re going to let them die?” asked Kenders, her voice rising.

With a firm nod, Broedi rumbled, “Yes.”

Jak asked, “What if we send a small—”

“No, Jak,” interjected Sergeant Trell. “The risk is heavier than the gain.”

Kenders protested, “But the ‘gain’ is people’s lives!” Turning to Nikalys, she said, “Are you truly willing to let them die?!”

Nikalys frowned and looked away, but Kenders was not done.

“Nik! What if it were me there?”

“That’s different,” muttered Nikalys.

“How?” demanded Kenders.

Broedi answered, rumbling, “You are the Progeny.”

Glaring at the hillman, Kenders said, “Fine, then.” Jabbing a finger back toward Jak, she asked, “What if Jak were in Gobas, Nik? Would you leave him to die?”

Nikalys shook his head quickly.

“Of course not.”

Broedi said firmly, “It would not be up to you, Nikalys.” Looking back to Jak, the hillman said, “I am sorry, Jak, but if you were in Gobas at this very moment, you would be on your own. No one’s life is worth revealing ourselves to Chaos.”

Jak tried not to let the declaration bother him, but it did. Trying to deflect the suddenly charged atmosphere, he muttered, “Good thing I’m not there, then.” The jest was ill timed and found only quiet, melancholy stares.

A few moments passed when Zecus demanded, “What happened?” Restrained fury filled his voice. “Gobas was a fortress! How could Duke Vanson not hold it?” Joshmuel reached over and placed a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder.

Tobias’ gaze shifted back to the Borderlanders and said, “Nelnora does not know. According to her, she has been unable to see Vanson for some time, now. In fact—” his voice took on a heavy, ominous tone “—it has been nearly three decades since she has seen him.”

From the back corner, Khin spoke, his airy voice drifting about the offices.

“That is grave.”

Peering over toward Khin, Tobias nodded and said, “I agree.”

Jak found it odd that Tobias did not seem the least bit surprised by the presence of the aicenai.

Kenders asked, “Why is that grave?”

Looking back to the chairs, Tobias said, “There are a limited number of beings in Terrene able to hide from Nelnora’s abilities to look upon them.” A weighty sigh slipped from his lips. “None of whom are mortal.”

It took Jak—and most of the people in the room—several moments to make sense of the revelation.

Sergeant Trell sighed heavily, Commander Aiden let a whispered curse slip, Lady Vivienne shut her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest, her blonde hair draping before her face. The room was deadly quiet until a log in the fire popped as an air pocket burst.

Kenders spoke first, disbelief dripping from every word.

“Are you suggesting Duke Vanson is one of the Cabal?”

Sergeant Trell said, “It would certainly explain a few things.”

“It certainly would,” agreed Lady Vivienne.

“Is he the God of Chaos?” asked Nikalys. He sounded as if he already accepted the implausible premise. “Or one of the others? Strife, Pain, or Deception?”

Facing Nikalys, Tobias said, “An excellent question and the first thing I asked Nelnora myself. As to her answer, I will give it to you word for word and suspect you will be as unsatisfied by it as I was: ‘I do not know. No one does but him.’”

Jak waited, expecting more. Nothing else came.

Sergeant Trell muttered, “Is that all?”

Tobias shifted his gaze to the soldier.

“Sorry, Sentinel, but that’s all I have.”

“You know,” began Lady Vivienne softly. “Duchess Aleece always suspected something like this.” Pressing the tips of her fingers together, she said in a quiet, ponderous voice, “I did not want to believe her.”

Jak—along with everyone in the room—stared at the baroness and offered some exclamation of surprise. Unable to help himself, Jak took a step forward and snapped, “I’m sorry. You suspected the Duke of the Borderlands was
of the Cabal
? And you kept it to yourselves?”

The baroness leaned forward to rest her elbows on the desk, settled her cool green eyes on him, and said, “There was no need to share it with you.” Her tone was as casual as though she had mentioned that the clouds looked like they had rain in them for tomorrow.