A Rose In The Wind: A Saga of the Halmae -- Updated June 19, 2014

35x03

Lady Akiko-san was nearing fifty years old, and she radiated vigor and intellect. She wore a simple Inquisitorial robe and a narrow, plain headdress that Nyoko nonetheless recognized instantly as the symbol of her office as heir to the Lord High Regent.

Nyoko noticed all this in a swift glance as she bowed deeply, cutting her eyes to one side to check that her comrades were making serviceable bows as well. Lady Akiko-san graced them with a magnanimous nod of her head in return.

“You are late,” she said, not unpleasantly.

Nyoko was unsurprised that Unsuku was the fastest to reply: the ambitious Adept had, in a sense, been practicing all her life for this audience… and, to be fair, letting her take credit was part of the deal they’d struck with her. “We faced unavoidable delays, my Lady,” she replied. “Thus we were forced to remember that there is an order higher than ours.”

Lady Akiko-san gestured toward a row of pillows in front of the raised platform on which she stood, and then knelt on a pillow of her own. The party--with varying degrees of grace (“Kneel, don’t sit cross-legged, Honored Justicar,” Nyoko murmured)--settled onto their pillows facing her.

“Report on your work with the Inquisition this past summer,” Lady Akiko-san said then.

“I will describe the events as I Witnessed them,” Unsuku said. “For certain incidents I did not personally observe, I will request your indulgence as my assistant--” she nodded to Nyoko-- “testifies to them instead.” Nyoko kept her face impassive despite the waves of outrage she sensed from Twiggy, Dame Mena, and the others on her behalf.

With that, Unsuku began her recitation, describing--with Nyoko’s help--the entire investigation of the Tide in Cauldron. Nyoko noted that Unsuku elegantly shaded the events to imply the necessity of her own presence to an otherwise barely competent investigation without ever including a word of untruth: it was equivocation of such subtlety that Justicar Kormick probably envied it.

Two hours and forty-seven minutes later, Unsuku’s Witness concluded.

Lady Akiko-san sighed. “I commend you all for your service. It has been hard to carry out the Affirmation, and I am disappointed by Mother Kawazu’s treachery. It is heartening to hear in person of your efforts to resolve this matter: I thank you for coming all this way to share it with me. Few heathens would have done any of this.”

“The honor is ours,” Unsuku said, bowing. Nyoko suspected she was disgruntled that the heathens were getting any credit at all.

“I am not alone in wishing to express my gratitude,” Lady Akiko-san continued. “I invite you all to join me tonight at dinner.”

“Again, the honor would be entirely ours,” Unsuku said. “I would, in addition, be honored all the more if you would permit me to dance as a humble part of the evening’s entertainment.”

Of course you would, Nyoko thought, squelching an urge to roll her eyes. And I’m going to count that word “humble” as a lie, because that is a terribly inaccurate description of your attitude.

Lady Akiko-san was nodding graciously and Unsuku was smiling. With another round of bowing, the group was preparing to rise when, suddenly, Tavi spoke up.

“Lady Akiko-san,” he said in his careful, most formal voice, “I am Signor Octavian of Pol Henna, and I must speak to you about another matter before this meeting concludes.”

Nyoko was startled by his Peninsular bluntness, but more than that, she was gratified to see a quick flash of disgusted shock on Unsuku’s face: Unsuku didn’t know what this was about, and she didn’t like that one bit.

“Speak,” said Lady Akiko-san, herself apparently unperturbed.

“This is a matter of greatest confidentiality, as well as of greatest importance,” said Tavi. “We need to request your help in solving a mystery that surrounds my sister, and that appears to involve divinities as well as mortals.”

With that, he began to tell Rose’s story, from the time before her birth when she became her mother’s Sacrifice of Death, through the prophecy at the spring, through the research Twiggy and others had conducted about the Sheh, through Sister Orchid’s information about the Agent of Destruction. “And so,” he concluded, “we would be grateful for any history you could share with us about these matters, perhaps especially about the Sheh. And… I’m not sure how to say this with as much diplomatic sensitivity as I could wish, but we wonder--we fear--if the Lord High Regent might be the ‘dying king’ the prophecy describes.”

At last, he fell silent.

A small smile crossed Akiko-san’s face.

“One puzzle I had not yet solved,” she said, “was exactly why a troupe of heathens would be willing to work so very hard to aid the Inquisition in its time of need, and why they would come to see me in person afterward. I now have my answer.”

“Don’t mistake us,” said Savina. “We wanted to help support the Affirmation, too--”

Akiko-san gently waved away Savina’s concern. “Of course. I did not mean to imply that your motives were in any way base. You desired to support the Affirmation, and you desire to save this young woman…”

She looked at Rose. Rose looked back. A moment passed.

“The Lord High Regent is dying,” Akiko-san said then. Nyoko, who had suspected as much, felt a jolt of sadness anyway. “He must be considered a candidate to suit your prophecy,” Akiko-san continued. “Foreign intelligence brings us word of no monarch who can more accurately be described as a dying king. I trust your information is similar.”

Tavi nodded. “May we meet with him?”

“Unlikely in the extreme,” said Akiko-san. “The Lord High Regent seldom meets with heathens, and then only those of the utmost rank. But the matter will be considered. As for the rest, I commend you to the Military librarians. They should have records of the various armed expeditions into Sheh lands, and you may find answers there.”

“Thank you,” said Tavi.

“I do not envy the challenge Kettenek has placed before you,” Akiko-san said, then caught herself. “I suppose you would say: the challenge that Ehkt has placed before you… but in all honesty, it seems to me that whether Kettenek has placed the mountain in your path or Ehkt is spurring you to the top, it is a hard road regardless. The rest is semantics. I will see you for dinner this evening.”

As they left the room, Nyoko overheard Kormick say to Mena, “She could come to the cabin.”

“Yes,” said Mena. “And you could go fishing that day.”

Rain Delay

Not to worry, everyone. Our post this week has been held up due to personal/practical concerns, but regular posting will resume shortly. Thanks for your patience!

No worries at all; I'll be eagerly reading it whenever it's posted

35x04

Yutori, the palace’s protocol director, was quite possibly the most Sovereign Sovereign Twiggy had ever met. He was obsessed with nitpicky propriety, not to mention making sure that Akiko-san’s honored guests bathed before they attended her dinner.

Naturally, Acorn deeply approved of him.

When Yutori began explaining the proper order for use of different pairs of chopsticks during the meal, the mouse demanded tiny chopsticks through his mental link with Twiggy.

“My mouse generally dines with me,” Twiggy said out loud, half to oblige Acorn and half out of curiosity to see what Yutori would do with this wrinkle.

The man barely blinked an eye—the relevant word being “barely.” Twiggy caught the repressed twitch of his eyebrow.

“Of course,” Yutori said. “A small pillow beside your own.”

Find out if he’s married! Acorn mentally sighed.

I don’t think he’s your type… Twiggy sent back.

Not for me!

And so, Acorn beside her, Twiggy took her seat at Lady Akiko’s table along with the rest of the party. They were not the only guests at dinner. Lady Akiko sat to the left of the seat at the head of the table, which was conspicuously empty in tribute to the ailing Lord High Regent. Tavi was seated not far from Twiggy, next to Corrado di Riori, the Hennan ambassador to Divine Mark. Kormick was immediately deep in talk with an Undian woman beside him; presumably, Twiggy guessed, she was Lukas’s ambassador. Or at least as much of an ambassador as Kormick himself is a Justicar, Twiggy thought, suppressing a smile.

Twiggy herself was seated next to a merchant who told her, proudly, that he had charge of a lucrative Karonian contract. She tried to nod politely while, at the same time, listen past him to Tavi and Signor Corrado: Tavi had asked for news of the Peninsula.

“Things are tense,” Signor Corrado answered. “The Alliance and the Confederacy are verbally skirmishing. There was a slave revolt in Pol Aego--don’t worry--they put it down quickly. But the slaves have been restive there ever since, and the rumors at home are that the Confederate states, Dar Pykos and their ilk, have been encouraging such revolts to undermine the Alliance. Dar Pykos, by contrast, claims that the Aegosians are hiring mercenaries--Sunblades, you know--as if the Aegosians are the ones making trouble. And of course Pol Thane is always up for a good war, and I’ve heard even Ebis is antsy. It’s starting to sound like nearly everyone’s spoiling for a fight, and so it’s tricky, Signor. Damned tricky.”**

At that moment, the musicians struck a louder chord and Unsuku stepped forward to dance. All conversation gave way to laughter—at least among the Sovereigns—as Unsuku’s movements told a whimsical tale that Twiggy couldn’t quite follow. She was distracted, anyway, by the news from home: she hoped the cooler heads in Pol Henna would be able to speak for the Alliance and soothe matters with the Confederacy.

###

The next morning, in accordance with Lady Akiko-san’s suggestion that they conduct more research into the prophecy and the Sheh, one functionary arrived to announce that they were expected at the Military library, a second appeared to declare them invited to the Adept Archives, and third followed almost immediately with word that Akiko-san herself would like to see them briefly first.

As they were led into a drawing room high in the palace, where Akiko-san rose to greet them, Twiggy was startled to see an ancient man sitting in a soft chair in the corner, staring at the floor.

Akiko-san made no attempt to introduce the man as she wished them a good morning. The old man did not look at them.

“I am very sorry to inform you,” Akiko-san pronounced, “that it will be impossible for a group of heathens such as yourselves to meet with the Lord High Regent.”

Twiggy noticed how very fine the old man’s robes were. She noticed the ornately carved staff of stone leaning against the chair beside him. And she noticed the barest hint of a smile on his face as he continued to contemplate the carpet beneath his slippered feet.

“Of course. Such a meeting would be quite impossible,” said Nyoko.

“We understand perfectly,” said Mena.

“Perhaps,” said Tavi, “you would not mind if we told you the whole story of my sister and the prophecy once more, just to refresh your memory.”

“What an excellent idea,” said Akiko-san, gesturing them to couches and chairs.

The old man listened, impassive, as they told the story and recited the prophecy once again. Occasionally he coughed a grating, painful cough; Twiggy saw Savina watching him with concern.

“I wish I could offer you more insight,” said Akiko-san when they were finished. “If my Lord were able to meet with you, I believe he, too, would suspect that he is the dying king named…”

She paused for a single second, but the old man remained silent. Not even a cough.

She continued: “...for not only is he ailing, but also his greatest experts in divination inform us that his death will occur soon, in the season of Kettenek.”

The season of Kettenek, Twiggy thought. Winter. It was only just turned autumn.

“Can’t something be done?” Savina was asking.

“Even if something could,” Akiko-san said, “he would not wish it. Already he has begun to prepare for and anticipate his return to Rikitaru’s side.”

“The prophecy says that we’re supposed to ‘find the last breath of the dying king,’” Twiggy said. “Prophecies are rarely literal, so I’d guess that means his last words. Does that sound correct?” She cut her eyes to the old man, who remained silent, impassive, listening.

“That is possible,” Akiko-san said. If they were to hear his last words, then, they would need to be in Divine Mark three months hence. Twiggy tried to imagine waiting for three months in Divine Mark, enduring tedious formal dinners every night. Acorn sent up a hopeful cheer at the thought.

“He will, of course, be attended upon his deathbed…?” Nyoko asked.

“Of course,” Akiko-san agreed. “I will be there, as will an Adept. A Lord High Regent rules until his soul departs, and if he issues directives in the final moments, they must be recorded and obeyed.”

“Do you think he will?” asked Kormick, looking at and addressing the old man rather than Akiko-san. “Because—allow me to speak as plainly as I can—it’d be very helpful to know now if he plans any major deathbed speeches.”

Akiko-san allowed a pause once more, during which the old man coughed but said nothing.

“I cannot predict that,” Akiko-san said. “But as I said, I will be there, alongside an Adept, and all concerned will bear in mind that you would very much like to know what transpires.”

The old man’s cough was growing steadier, and Akiko-san stood up. “I am sorry I cannot help you more,” she said. “But I must resume my duties now.”

As they all shuffled out of the room, Savina murmured, “He’s consumptive. What time he has left will be painful. I wish I could help.”

“Do you believe he’ll live three more months?” asked Mena.

Savina shrugged unhappily. “Maybe. But if he makes it much past Kettenek Rising, I will be surprised, and… and sorry for him, if he must suffer for too long.”

Ilex said:

"...in the season of Kettenek.”

Click to expand...

Aren't they all his seasons? If you're not a heathen, I mean.

babomb said:

Aren't they all his seasons? If you're not a heathen, I mean.

Click to expand...

Yes, indeed they are in a larger sense! But the Sovereigns still think of the seasons as having the flavor of the various affiliated godlings: we celebrated "Ehkt's Judgment" with the Sovereigns in summertime, for example, when the Peninsula would be celebrating "Ehkt Ascendant." So if the season of summer is Kettenite with Ehkt sprinkles, winter is Kettenite with Kettenek sprinkles.

Ahhhh, fond memories of Ehkt's Judgment. Mena pantsing that guy and Kormick hollering PERFIDY!!!!!...

While everyone refers to the seasons as Spring, Summer, Winter, and Fall, the rest of the world also calls them the seasons of Alirria, Ehkt, Sedellus, and Kettenek. In the Sovereignty, they would be the Season of Kettenek's Birthing, the Season of Kettenek's Building, the Season of Kettenek's Sleeping, and The Season of Kettenek.

35x05

The rest of the day’s research complicated matters. And not just because the Military Library’s filing system was, itself, ridiculously complicated. (The First Expedition records are under “F” for “first,” and the Second Expedition records are three floors down under “S” for “second”? Who does that?! was Twiggy’s first reaction before realizing that the Military Librarian of Divine Mark, Myosho-san, did that. And was very satisfied with it. And would brook no questioning of her methods.)

After a stint among the labyrinthine halls of scrolls, Twiggy and Mena, with Nyoko’s help, were able to learn more details about the three expeditions that the Sovereigns had sent to destroy the Sheh. Shortly after the First Expedition had vanished roughly a hundred years ago into the wilderness west of Divine Mark, the Second Expedition—a larger force, better equipped—took a different route west into Sheh territories. It found no trace of the First Expedition, but it did encounter violent resistance from the Sheh: that Expedition’s Adept reported magical attacks by plants, animals, rocks, and fire as well as more mundane assaults by Sheh warriors. After many bloody battles, the Sheh were finally beaten into silence: slaughtered, the survivors forcibly converted to Sovereign belief.

The Third Expedition was more recent—about seventy-five years past—and it came about because of a strange series of murders: a rash of midwives were smothering Sovereign infant girls. Further investigation revealed the shocking fact that the midwives were Sheh. The Sovereignty had believed the Sheh extinct, but some had apparently survived—and there were rumors that they were acting upon a prophecy.

The Sheh madwoman whose dying speech we uncovered must have been one of those midwives, Twiggy realized.

The murders had begun in remote Sovereign settlements on the fringes of the wilderness, then traced their way east. The Third Expedition, determined to destroy this eerie resurgence of the Sheh people, followed the Second Expedition’s path west. It met no resistance, and what Sheh it found, it easily killed.

“And that was the end of the Sheh,” declared Myosho-san, with what sounded disturbingly like satisfaction.

The party left the Military Library with maps of the routes taken by both the First Expedition and the latter two, and a bad feeling that the Sheh’s prophecy about murdering girl babies sounded a lot like Sister Orchid’s mission to kill Rose.

“Not that Sister Orchid was Sheh,” Nyoko pointed out. “Sheh people looked much like Sovereigns, whereas Orchid was plainly Peninsular.”

“Agreed,” said Mena, “but it’s fairly clear that the Sheh had their own information about the birth of a girl child they feared. We need to know everything they knew.”

The Archives of the Adepts were a far more pleasant place to work. And after the brutal facts of the Military records, the Adept records were relievingly full of colorful minutia: the names of the Adepts who accompanied each Expedition, sketches of Sheh totem markers, notes on fascinating beasts of the western Ketkath.

The party also learned many more details about the Sheh murderers. A number of the convicted killers made dying speeches akin to the madwoman’s, and witness testimonies suggested that the Sheh midwives only selected certain girls—sometimes merely by glancing at the mother. Would they have targeted Rose after a glance at Dona Giovanna? Twiggy wondered, with a chill.

Most of the murderers were caught, but a few cases had gone unsolved—in a sequence of towns that drew a line on the map toward the coastal city of Seaward. “One of the Sheh may have gotten away,” said Nyoko.

“And gone to Seaward,” added Mena.

“And to the Peninsula after that,” concluded Kormick.

Twiggy cast a quick glance at Rose. “This happened seventy-five years ago,” Twiggy reminded them. “No murders have been recorded since. Whoever it was is probably dead by now.”

“Probably,” muttered Tavi, his hand unconsciously finding the hilt of his wakizashi.

###

And so, at the end of that long day, they had a choice. They could stay in Divine Mark and await the Lord High Regent’s death, or they could seize the intervening three months to follow one of the two cold trails before them: east, to Seaward, or west, into Sheh lands.

Twiggy was sure she wanted to be on the move, tracking down clues rather than standing a depressing vigil in Divine Mark. But she was bracing herself for the party’s usual lengthy, complicated debate when suddenly Savina said, “I never thought I’d say this, but I miss the Ketkath. Going west feels right to me.”

Unseen by Savina, Arden shot a wry, mock-beleaguered look at Kormick: Gods, now she’s gotten a taste for adventure. I’m in real trouble, it seemed to say. Kormick mouthed back words that looked suspiciously like: Unnatural, bloody deaths… Neither one of them looked sincere, though: Twiggy guessed they supported Savina’s suggestion.

“I find myself agreeing,” said Mena. “I would rather seek the original source of the Sheh’s knowledge than one murderous and aged bearer thereof—as long as we can be back here by winter.”

It turned out that everyone had essentially the same intuition: go west.

“Phoebe says west is obviously best because east is backward and we’ve already been there,” Tavi added, and so it was decided.

Two days later, they set forth into the wilderness.

36x01

As the group stopped to catch its breath, Kormick brushed some leaves from a rock and sat down to write in his journal. A gust of wind fluttered the pages.

(Sept. 7)
We set off this morning from the Divine Mark into the Ketkath. Vatik was not at the gates of Divine Mark, although the murder-slave was sharpening her dagger in expectation. Half expect to see him waiting at whatever obscure ex-Sheh settlement we find in the middle of the Ketkath.

Wearing the trusty long coat again. Feels good to be back in Undian garb after so many months in Inquisitorial robes, and it’s not as if the rodents of the Ketkath would give much deference to the robes. Keeping the wakizashi sword, though. The Inquisition said they were ours to keep, and they might even make a difference to the rodents.

Savina, charming girl, procured a tent—her third since we set out from Pol Henna—and a mule, which she has insisted on naming “Placid.” Wishful thinking. It’s already tried to run off twice.

(Sept. 13)
Third day of steady uphill. We are camping early today as tomorrow will be hard going. Between Twiggy’s map and maps from the Military library in Divine Mark, we have stayed along the trail of the second Sovereign expedition, and have some warning of changes in terrain. Glad to have the mule, although it remains anything but “placid.” It jumps at every electric rabbit.

Speaking of which, the murder-slave makes a creditable stew of electric rabbit cooked with a spicy pink tuber.

(Sept. 17)
Still little of note. The trees have given way to high, rocky meadows with variegated grasses. Fuzzy oblong creatures with large teeth float just above the ground. Appears that they’re more scared of us than we are of them. The mule remains excitable; head-butts Savina at every opportunity. She yowls in pain and then speaks soothingly at the beast. Hope springs eternal.

(Sept. 24)
Air is thinner at this elevation. Last night we camped on a high bluff, and as the sun rose over Savina’s morning prayers, we were treated to a cold, gray view. Wind whips through rocky passes, and the going is slow as we pick our way over rocky “paths” shored up by the Soverign expedition before us. Only a few more days until we reach what the military maps identify as former Sheh lands.

Here and there we see Sovereign marks on the rocks claiming the territory, although as far as I can tell we are more than a week’s hike from any civilized settlement. We’ve made camp in the shelter of a small cliff, on a patch of stabby, funereal grass surrounded by scrubby pines.

Click to expand...

Kormick sketched what he saw: chipped shale punctuated by tufts of flat, pitch-black grass that, if it were just a little stronger, would be less like grass and more like blades. Luckily it collapsed under a bedroll. Mostly.

He felt Mena’s gaze on the back of his head. “Ready?” she asked, and handed Kormick a skin of water. He took a swig. “Yup.” He shouldered his bag, passed the skin of water to Tavi, and began the day’s climb.

###

Nyoko had found the journey well-suited to walking meditation. Without any forcing, her feet and breath rose and fell with the rhythm of the Mountain Mantra in her mind: “O Kettenek, high as the peaks with diamond roots, I climb to greet you, low as the springs that breathe the clouds, I stoop to—”

“HALT! Heathen Infidels! Lay down your arms and surrender to the Lord’s Holy Might!”

Nyoko’s focus shifted outward at once. She scanned her surroundings. The group was in a gully, among scattered clumps of tall bushes. As she looked more closely, she could see glinting arrows among the greenery. They were surrounded.

A tall, stern woman in a Sovereign military uniform emerged from some foliage. Her uniform was of the old style, but crisp and well-kept.

Nyoko pushed back her hood. “I am Adept Nyoko of Cauldron. Identify yourselves for my Witness.”

“I am Lieutenant Commander Tomahura of Divine Mark.” the woman responded. “You show wisdom and sagacity, so do not be foolish. Lay down your arms.”

Nyoko recalled something from one of the Histories about a military commander named Tomahura. What was that story?... Nyoko saw an image of a plaque in her mind. That’s right: a commander named Tomahura had been honored with a posthumous promotion to the rank of Marshal and a commemorative pool in one of Divine Mark’s public spaces. But that’s not everything … Nyoko began to run through her standard memory recall exercises, but the woman glared at her with a piercing gaze that implied that it would be a mistake to wait any longer before laying down her arms. Nyoko set her bow on the ground, where she could flip it up with her foot if necessary.

Perhaps this woman is a descendant of that historical Tomahura, Nyoko thought. Regardless, her expedition to the Ketkath is not authorized by the Military in Divine Mark—or stranger yet, the Military in Divine Mark is keeping her expedition a secret...

Some of the party laid down their weapons. As Kormick set down his warhammers, he said, “I am a servant of Kettenek in my land. We have come in peace, in service of the Lord High Regent.” As Tavi put down his sword, his wakizashi glinted in the sunlight.

Nyoko observed a puzzled look on Tomahura’s face. “Lay down the flail, Infidel,” she said, glaring at Mena.

Infidel? She calls the heathens infidels? Since the Affirmation, the only ones who used the term “infidel” were the Tide… or their supporters, Nyoko thought. A secret expedition with a closed-minded—possibly Tide— leader . . .

“I want them all searched,” Tomahura barked. “Especially the Infidels.” Several soldiers advanced and searched the party. The search was rough and thorough; they found every blade and implement the party held, aside from Arden’s well-hidden daggers, and piled them—including Nyoko’s bow and arrows—several yards away. They confiscated all of Twiggy’s magical accoutrements, as well, although they piled them with the party’s supplies, rather than its weapons. No respect for wizardry, either, Nyoko thought.

“I’ll want that back,” Savina insisted, as one of the soldiers tore the Alirrian symbol from her neck. Tomahura lifted a wakizashi from the pile of weapons. “Where did you come by this?” she asked.

“In service to the Inquisition,” Mena responded. “Inquisition, Inquisition,” Mena’s armor whispered.

Tomahura glared. “Bind the Infidels and the so-called Adept. It is obvious that you are lying.”

“Obvious only to one who does not know all the facts. You do not know all the facts,” Nyoko explained. Nor do we, she thought.

“Has it occurred to you that we’re telling the truth?” Kormick asked. “That we have served the Inquisition? That the Lord High Regent has--”

“Bind the madman,” Tomahura said.

A soldier grabbed Kormick’s arm. “Really?” Kormick asked. “Your four archers and ten pikemen can’t defend yourself against eight travelers you have forcibly disarmed?”

Another soldier grabbed a rope and threw Savina to the ground.

“That does it. Disrespect me all you want, but you keep your paws off the Blessed Sister.” Kormick tore free of the guard, dove toward the pile of weapons, and grabbed a wakizashi.

“Get them!” Mena pulled a wakizashi from a soldier’s belt and slashed at the soldier.

36x02

“Don’t kill Tomahura!” Nyoko yelled. “We need answers!” She looked longingly at her bow on the bottom of the weapons pile. She could see Savina, pinned under the soldier’s foot, straining to reach her holy symbol. Everyone else’s weapons were out of reach. Nyoko grabbed a rock and threw it at one of the archers. It hit him square in the chest and he stumbled backward.

Twiggy turned and glared at the pile of supplies, and her orb flew from the pile into her hand. Her giant ball of flame erupted between Tomahura and the group, its flames licking at Tomahura’s uniform. Tomahura’s archers jumped and backed away from the sudden fire. One screamed. Another yelled “Sorcery!” Then Tomahura barked “stop the Infidels!”—and the archers remembered their duty. A volley of arrows flew through the ball of fire. One hit Mena. Mena had gotten the soldiers’ attention—they surrounded her with their polearms, and one of them connected with a brutal stab in Mena’s arm. Mena slashed back with her borrowed wakizashi.

The others dove into action. Tavi rolled past the ball of fire, grabbed his sword, and slashed at one of the archers’ legs. Arden pulled a dagger from beneath her tunic, lunged forward, and slashed at the soldier restraining Savina. As he tried to bat Arden’s dagger away, he let up the pressure on Savina’s back. She wriggled free and grabbed her holy symbol. “Stop!” she yelled, casting command on one of the archers. He looked confused and dropped his bow. At the same time, Nyoko picked up her bow, and loosed an arrow at Tomahura. It struck her shoulder—the perfect location to distract her without leaving permanent injury.

Kormick joined Tavi on the other side of the ball of fire, and together they took on several of the soldiers: a flurry of Tavi’s flaming sword, Kormick’s warhammer and wakizashi, and the soldiers’ polearms. Kormick’s electrical attack arced at one of the soldiers. The soldier screamed and reached for her eyes.

Twiggy’s fireball pushed forward, separating Tomahura from her troops. Tomahura grasped at her uniform, trying to beat out the flames that had caught its hem. On the other side of the fireball, Mena spun at the soldiers, shoving all of them backward—one into Kormick’s wakizashi, one into Arden’s daggers, and another toward Tavi’s back. “Tavi, behind you!” Mena yelled. Tavi swung his sword backward over his shoulder. The flat side of the blade pounded the soldier’s head. The soldier fell, unconscious.

Nyoko and the three remaining archers traded arrows. Nyoko incapacitated one of the archers, but the archers’ arrows connected, too. One hit Savina in the thigh, and sank deep. Savina’s leg buckled. “Stop!” she yelled again, and a bolt of light sped toward the archer who had hit her. He yelped and fell backward as it hit him. The last archer nocked another arrow. Arden rushed him, knocking him unconscious with the butt of her dagger.

Mena caught a soldier’s sash with the dull-edged side of her borrowed wakizashi, startling him, but not injuring him. The soldier dropped his polearm as Mena pulled him close, twisted his arm behind him, and forced him to his knees. “Tomahura!” Mena announced, holding her wakizashi high. “Your archers have fallen. Your pikemen are surrounded. To fight with incomplete information is dishonorable, yet you insist upon fighting. Honor your God and stand down.”

The battlefield froze. Liueutenant Tomahura pulled herself tall and surveyed the field. Mena had been telling the truth. “If I stand down, you will spare my troops?”

Mena lowered the wakizashi. “Of course. To do otherwise would lack honor.”

“Then we shall stand down.” The conscious pikemen laid down their arms. Kormick, Tavi, and Mena bound the troops.

“May I heal your wounded?” Savina asked.

“No,” said Tomahura. One of the soldiers spat at Savina, who deftly dodged the orb of spittle and turned to heal Kormick’s cuts and bruises.

They are wearing old-style uniforms. They act as if they have no knowledge of the Affirmation. They seem surprised by Twiggy’s wizardry. Is it possible, Nyoko wondered, that this is Marshal Tomahura’s daughter? That she followed the trail of the First Expedition as we did, and that she and her troops have been living out here in the woods since before the Affirmation? No . . . if that were true, their uniforms would be threadbare . . .

“We could kill you and your men,” Kormick said, “but we won’t. We’re not assassins. This is Adept Nyoko of Cauldron. She can prove she is an Adept.”

“All she can prove is that she has trained with Adepts,” Tomahura retorted. “And that you are ridiculous.” She chuckled. “Heathens with wakizashis.”

Suddenly, the pieces fell into place in Nyoko’s mind. She is not a descendant of Marshal Tomahura. She is Marshal Tomahura. But how…

Nyoko continued the thought aloud. “In your time away from the Divine Mark, Lieutenant Commander Tomahura-san, many things have changed.”

Tavi picked up the conversational thread. “Our research in Divine Mark showed that an expedition set out to find the Sheh. We came to follow that expedition. But that expedition left…” he looked to Twiggy for the date.

“A hundred years ago,” Twiggy continued. “What year do you think it is?”

“The fourth of the reign of Rikitaru Ozishi,” Tomahura replied instantly.

“It is year fifty-three of the reign of Rikitaru Nori,” Nyoko said. “And we need to figure out why you think it isn’t.”