War has no inherent rules. When one fights for survival, freedom and the prosperity of the coming generations, there is no question of propriety or correctness - there is only the end toward which we strive.
So why, then, do we play this warlike ga and term it war? Why do we withhold ourselves from our utmost and tread lightly around delicate situations? We are shooting the Ardans but are afraid to offend their sensibilities; in my first years on the front the contradiction irked daily while I watched Kolbe and his butchers do their bloody work.
Amira counseled patience, as ever. She has a trust in the bedrock of the world that I cannot approach, and though it pained her to do nothing she was firm in her resolve that we would not sink to their level. I asked her why, and I think on her answer often.
She said that the War would never end if we sacrificed our notion of civil society in the na of victory. What we won would forever be tainted, sared with blood from our hands, and our children would grow with the taste of it on their lips.
Her words quieted my anger. How could I profess to believe in a higher justice, then forsake it in favor of my own base imitation? We trusted to faith, waited - and when the sun rose from the north to punish the Ardans for their excess, there was not a drop of blood to be found.
- Saleh Taskin, On Reclamation, 687
It was an odd sensation, walking while invisible. Michael had not noticed it when escaping the stockade through the deserted nightti streets, but now they walked through a broad, bustling camp of soldiers. Canvas flapped in the mild breeze, and though the sll of smoke was strong it was joined here by a confusing lange of shit, refuse and cooked at. Add to this the pungent note of warm and unwashed bodies, for Charles had been right: there were soldiers everywhere.
Yet, nobody looked at them. n moved by, engaged in conversation or hurrying about their business, but their group was re empty air to the soldiers. Much of their ti was spent scrambling aside as a column of n passed; there were a few near encounters where Michael found himself stock-still on the side of the road, unwilling to step off lest he bend telltale blades of grass and unable to move forward for the n marching an arms length away.
The only one to speak during their infiltration was Sobriquet, and it only sparingly. On occasion it would stop to inspect a footprint or scrap of rubbish, looking at things only it could see - then, finally, setting an altered course with a murmured word to Clair.
Their group proceeded in this fashion for nearly an hour before they arrived at a camp which, to Michaels eyes, looked the sa as the rows of tents and pavilions they had seen for most of their walk.
There, Sobriquet murmured. Its in the - ah, wait. Its moving.
All eyes moved to the tent as a short, rotund man in an officers coat exited one of the large pavilions and began to walk along the broad main road of the camp.
Ah, Sobriquet said, its voice a buzzing whisper. Yes. Not docunts. The man.
Dont be ridiculous, Clair hissed. What should we do, walk up and ask him about secret plans he may be privy to?
Sobriquet chuckled and disappeared. The departing officer stopped abruptly and turned his head to the side, peering at one of the tents.
Oh, for- Clair let out a wordless grunt of irritation and began to walk toward the officer. Michael followed, watching as the man stepped hesitantly closer to the tent, finally lowering his head to peer inside - at which point a sparkling blur reached out and tapped him on the shoulder.
The officer stiffened and fell forward into the tent, only his boots protruding outside the canvas. Clair and Charles hurried forward to drag him the rest of the way through while Michael cast his gaze around to see if anyone had spotted the collapse and the anomalously-active tent flaps.
There were few n nearby, and none were looking in their direction. Cautiously, Michael entered the tent. Inside he found Clair kneeling over the weakly-twitching body of the officer.
Thank you so very much, Clair hissed. Now what are we supposed to do? Slap him until he wakes up and hold a knife to his balls? Were in the middle of the damn camp!
Sobriquet drifted to hover over the sleeping form of the officer. I will ensure nobody notices, it said. A risk, yes, but one I believe is necessary. It will take several hours for the Ardan auspices to notice the blind spot.
Clair looked directly at the blur, her eyes narrowing. Its important?
Extrely, Sobriquet confird, none of the usual levity in its voice. I will not lose this thread, Clair. This is no longer about my curiosity. Soone used Daressan lives as ans to an end. We must impress upon them that this is not a viable tactic, or it will happen again.
Clair hesitated, then nodded. Fine, she said. Then how do we begin?
I will keep him in complete sensory deprivation, Sobriquet said. You will need to bind him.
Charles bent down and touched the mans ankles, a bracelet slithering from his arm to lock them in place. Gerard slid off the officers coat and held up his wrists while Charles repeated the process there, leaving the man thoroughly manacled.
Their job done, the two artifices stepped back while Sobriquet leaned in to hold its arm under the officers nose; Michael had the impression of snapping fingers amid the chaotic glow. The officers nostrils flared imdiately as he twisted his head away, bucking and straining against his bonds. His face turned flushed, then pale as he stared wide-eyed and sightless around the tent.
Hello, Sobriquet said, its voice quiet and liquid. I would like to ask you so questions.
The officers eyes widened further. Who are you? he croaked. What did you do to ? I cant see-
I am asking the questions, Sobriquet purred, floating over the bound man. What do you know about Sunburn?
He shook his head weakly. I dont-
Sunburn, Sobriquet said again. I know you have information related to the operation conducted two nights ago. Tell what you know.
For a mont the man quivered against the sound of Sobriquets voice; another mont later his jaw fird and he shook his head. I dont know what youre talking about, he said, speaking in a quiet, deliberate voice that nevertheless showed the faint vibrato of fear.
I see, Sobriquet murmured, drifting closer. Once again an arm ca out from the blur to float a handspan away from the mans face, the remainder of Sobriquets body floating down just shy of his ear. There was a half-heard noise, a subsonic whine and growl that rippled through the tent.
Liar, Sobriquet said.
The officers eyes snapped wide, staring in horror at the empty air. He began to buck and twist with renewed vigor against his bonds, mouth open in a scream that did not travel past his lips. Stains appeared on his trousers; the man had wet himself in his fear.
Michael turned away, not willing to watch the man endure whatever tornts Sobriquet had contrived for him to see. Charles and Gerard watched impassively, although the latter frowned. Vernon had turned away as well, watching the door to the tent.
Clair looked sickly, pale, as though she might collapse. She stared, although her eyes looked past the writhing officer. Michael turned; from his vantage it seed as though she was staring at Sobriquet.
After an endless mont Sobriquet relented and the officer flopped to the ground sodden and weeping. Sunburn, it repeated. Tell what you know.
Nothing, the officer gasped. Emperors bones, I dont know anything. Just the na, I heard soone ntion it in passing, please-
Liar, Sobriquet said again.
The mans mouth opened to scream again, but Sobriquet had already robbed him of sound. This ti Clair turned away, walking quickly to the side of the tent with one hand pressed to her mouth.
Michael watched the officer twist against his bonds and felt the seductive whisper of the soul he could not think about. Was this the lesser evil, to watch a man broken by Sobriquets phantasmagoria when a few words from Michael could achieve the sa end painlessly? Wasnt the suffering of n sothing to be abhorred as well?
Michael thought of the tree until the whispers stopped and Sobriquet relented once more. The officer appeared nearly insensate, shivering and gasping on the ground. His eyes were bloodshot and vacant, a trickle of blood slowly dripping from his nose to the ground.
Sunburn, Sobriquet said, leaning close. Tell what you know.
The man shook his head. Just - kill , he panted. I cant tell you what I dont know.
Sobriquet humd tonelessly, its hand moving back toward the officers head. Michael felt the beginnings of a pain in his chest. He let his hand drift to his sternum, then clenched his fist.
Wait, Michael said. Let speak to him.
Sobriquets blur seed to ripple. Stay out of this, secret-keeper, it said. Your part in this is past. This is our matter.
Hes not going to talk to you, Michael said. Youre just going to end up killing him. I have - sothing I can try.
Do you? Sobriquet asked. I was not aware that spectors had any great skill in interrogation.
Michael took a step forward and looked down at the officer, then up at Sobriquet. He managed a smile. Its one of those secrets you were curious about, he said. If I fail, you may consider it your paynt for the attempt.
There was a pause, and Michael felt the sensation of intense regard from the blur. The pain in his chest faded. A rustle ca from behind him, and he turned to see Clair standing close by. Her fists were clenched, and a tear tracked through the dirt on her cheek.
Let him, she said. Please.
Sobriquet hovered for a mont, its outline fuzzing with bright color - then drifted away. Fine, it said. Make your attempt. I will permit him to hear your voice.
Michael held up a finger, bending down to pick up the officers discarded jacket and slipping it over his shoulders. It was a poor fit. He dragged one of the cots from the tent over and sat on its edge, hoping that this officer did not make a habit of keeping up with news from the mainland.
Let him see , Michael said. And an empty tent.
Sobriquet fuzzed once more, and the officer sat bolt upright, pulling with renewed strength against his bonds. His eyes filled with relief as they took in Michaels uniform and Ardan features. Michael held eye contact and began to think very deliberately on mories of his father.
Sobriquet would have found out soon enough anyway.
Soldier, he growled, letting his chin jut out in imitation of Karls haughty stance. Focus. Tell what happened.
Sir, I - I dont know, the officer said, blinking as he looked around the tent. I was walking, I heard a voice calling - He blinked again and focused on Michaels face, his expression still half-delirious. Im sorry, sir, but who are you? How did you find ?
I am Michael, Lord Baumgart. He leaned forward, furrowing his brow. Sent by my father to personally oversee his operations here. I need to know what you told them about Sunburn.
There was a pause. Michael held the expression on his face very steady as he clung to the hope that this man would believe him and live.
An idle thought inford him that he did not have to rely on hope. He pushed it to the side, but in that instant the officers eyes widened and flickered over Michaels face, his resemblance to the man who helped steer the armies of Ardalt. My Lord, the officer said, bowing as best he could with his bindings still in place. Forgive , I wasnt inford of your coming. I didnt tell them anything - please, if you could unbind ?
Michael was frozen. Had he done that? There had been no feeling of a soul, no surge of intent - but the mans expression had changed in the sa instant that Sparks soul ca to his mind.
He had no ti to consider, he had to answer or waste the opportunity. Michael let a breath out and clenched his fist, pushing his worry aside for the mont.
You dont strike as a man used to torture, Michael said, letting his voice take on the silken tones of threat he had grown to fear as a child. Dont lie to . You scread and cried. You pissed yourself. You told them everything.
I didnt! the officer protested, turning pale. Sir, I could not! Im not privy to any part of the operation, I just helped with quartering the troops-
Michael rose to his feet. So you told them where all four battalions are? he hissed. You gutless fool. Youve given them everything they need. Tell exactly what you said.
The bound man shook his head vigorously. I didnt, I couldnt! I dont even know where they are anymore, they went west the morning after the attack! I swear, sir, I didnt give them anything.
Not good enough, Michael said. You an to tell that you didnt glean any details of their mission despite being involved with their logistics? That you didnt have a guess as to the nature of their mission, one you scread out just to make the pain stop?
Sir, no, the officer said, confusion leaking into his voice. They brought their own supplies, in sealed boxes- He squinted up at Michael. Are you wearing my jacket?
Sobriquet tapped the man on the shoulder, moving back as he fell twitching to the ground. I think that ends the conversation, it said. Well done, Michael.
Michael looked around the tent to find all eyes on him once more.
Lord Baumgart, is it? Clair said, all of the previous emotion gone from her voice. She took a step toward Michael with narrowed eyes. Is that what this is?
The hostility was palpable in the small tent, and Michael took a step back. He held up his hands placatingly. Listen, he said, its not-
-not true at all, Sobriquet said, swooping in from the side. Oh, Michael is his na - but the rest? Marvelous acting, and a complete fabrication. Its a sha, he would have made a good little Ardan lord.
The blur shifted towards Michael. You may have fooled the rest of them, however: I am Sobriquet. There was the sense of a grin in its voice, a self-amused cadence to the words. Your na is not the secret I was hoping to learn, nor is what we found from our friend. It seems to match. I believe we have reached a balance of favors today, wouldnt you agree?
Michael nodded haltingly. He wasnt sure what ga Sobriquet was playing. The lie was flimsy, and none of the others looked particularly impressed - but Clairs posture had shifted from threatening to evaluative. She looked back and forth between Michael and Sobriquet, finally turning away with a disgusted grunt.
For a mont Michael felt nothing but bafflent; that excuse should not have mitigated the hostility he had felt from Clair and the others. He had missed sothing, but what? Sobriquet offered no answers, and the others had stopped focusing so intently on him.
So what now? Charles asked. If the Ardans went west then theyre headed to the front. We wont be able to find anything there, its madness up and down the lines.
Gerard shook his head. Were not equipped for that kind of trip regardless, he said. Well need supplies, forged papers-
All can be arranged, Sobriquet said. I will begin while you travel back to the safehouse. I already have so additional faces in mind for the expedition-
Sobriquet broke off. For a mont, nobody moved. From the corner Vernon raised his head, a worried expression on his face. Sothings coming, he said. Air squadron, maybe, but they sound - off. He tilted his head. Coming fast.
Outside, Sobriquet said tersely. Back to the safehouse, fast as you can.
Whats going on? Clair asked. If its more Ardan scheming-
Clair, please. The blur moved to hover in front of her. Run.
From outside the tent, Michael heard n shouting, the pounding of feet on the packed dirt. The low drone of engines began to vibrate the air around them.
Run! Sobriquet shouted.
Vernon did not wait for clarification; he ran. The rest of the group followed shortly, only to pause in the wide avenue between tents and stare upward.
A large, oblong shape blotted out a segnt of sky to their north. It was smooth tal with propellers mounted at intervals along its behemoth length, a central ovoid stretched atop a cluster of cabins and compartnts below. Around it were small dots that sward like so many insects; the scale was such that it took Michael a second to realize that they were a fighter escort.
No biplanes, these. Michael had watched the lazy turns and loops of fighters in the air before, and they bore little resemblance to the sleek, silvered craft that shot past on a single pair of broad wings, so fast that he couldnt track them as they buzzed low over the city. Their propellers roared in a ghastly chorus as they traversed the land - and headed out towards the bay.
Not an attack? Gerard yelled. What are they doing?
Clair was staring upwards at the gigantic aircraft as it executed a slow, lazy turn over Leik, bringing its nose towards the Safid blockade in the distance. Beams of sunlight caught its side, revealing a stylized sunburst in gold against the rigid shell.
The bastards, she whispered, barely audible over the din. So this was their play.
Michael looked up, uncomprehending, but before he could ask what she ant a womans voice bood forth from the airship with thunderous volu.
This is an authorized punitive expedition of the ndiko Arbitration Court, she proclaid, echoing from every ruined facade and cairn of rubble. For cris against civilian populations in a war zone, all Safid naval assets in this area are forfeit. Do not attempt resistance or surrender. We will not target lifeboats.
Cheers began to erupt from the Ardan camp. A hand grabbed Michaels arm; it was Gerard.
Co on, lordling, he yelled. Weve got to run.
Michael allowed himself to be pulled forward, glancing at the airship above as often as he dared. Whats happening? he asked.
Your countryn put thousands of Daressans in front of Safid shells, he shouted back, breathing hard as he ran. Or blew them up themselves, it makes little difference. ndian thinks the Safid killed them.
Michael stared. And now ndian and Saf are going to fight?
No, Gerard said. Now the Star of ndian is going to kill them all.
His next question never ca, his foot landed on a patch of ice and sent him stumbling to the side. Gerard, too, stepped on a frozen puddle and lost his balance. Michael looked up from the ground, his breath fogging, and saw snowflakes falling from the air. A warm glow lit them from behind, and for a mont the scene took on a haunting beauty in Michaels eyes.
At the front of the airship there was a platform, and at the limit of the platform there was a railing. Against that railing a human form stood out against the open air, arms outstretched towards the distant blockade. Her hands glowed bright, so bright that Michael had to turn even his spectors sight away from the spiking brilliance - and then it lashed out in a fat bar of purest light that swept once across the ocean.
Michael watched the steam rise from the water, watched the warships glow red and ripple with black clouds of smoke. From one a thinner beam of light struck back toward the airship - the lucigens he had seen in the earlier battle. The figure on the airship did not flinch; the light bent to the side and stread past the airship harmlessly.
The Safid offered no further counterattack. A fresh sweep of radiance from the airship destroyed a second line of ships just as Michael heard the distant explosions of their predecessors resonate to Ardan cheers.
Stormclouds were billowing in a circle around them, though the sky above still burned clear. The wind whipped by hard enough to numb Michaels cheeks, and thunder rumbled amidst the sumr snow.
As another beam of light struck the ocean, Michael turned and ran.
Reviews
All reviews (0)