A Creature of War, Book 7, CH03

The meal had conversations LRK didn’t contribute in. Any story of Leech as part of this family was another cut against his heart; a reminder another brother was gone, that Leech had done better than the lynx.
The meal done, the adults moved to the living room and more Lions joined them, carrying their own chairs. By the time Aemid’s father call for the meeting to start a few humans were presents, along with a mouse and an osprey.
“Mika, are you good to take in our guests?” Erin asked the crowd, “There’s no way they can make it home before the sun sets.”
“I have ample room,” a lioness answered.
“Then let’s get this started. As you know, Jamine sent Aemid to go look for one of Grandfather’s sibling. That was almost three years ago. Things here have not improved since. Grandfather taught us that the fortunate should look after those who are less so. That’s us. Because of our powers, we’ve weathered the King’s taxes. Now that Aemid has returned with—” He stopped, frowned and looked at LRK. “I just realized that you name never came up.”
“Thunder’s fine.”
The lion shrugged. “Aemid returned with Thunder and with him, we will show the king that we are not slaves. Quads to be leashed and whipped.”
Erin looked at LRK expectantly, and they others joined him.
That’s it? LRK thought. He stated his position and now expects me to take over? He looked at Aemid, the one person there purposely not looking at LRK.
Since they wanted him to speak, he was going to give them a wake-up call. “How many of your sons and daughters are you willing to lose to this?”
The shock and dismay spread, getting louder until Erin rose his voice to silence them. “I don’t understand, you’re here to stop the king.”
“No. You are going to stop him.”
Erin looked at his son. “Did you not tell him how thing’s are?”
“He did,” LRK answered before the young lion found his voice. “And I told him where I stood. Maybe if you’d waited until you talked with him before calling this meeting you’d have been better prepared for my response. I’m not here to fight your war for you. I’m not Leech, your Grandfather. I have fought my wars, I have enough guilt for the people I murdered to have trouble sleeping after all these years. I will advise you, I will guide you, I will train you. I will defend those too young or too old to do so themselves, but I will not kill for you.” LRK leveled his gaze on Erin. “That will be your job.”
“That is unacceptable. We are not warriors, we are farmers.”
“You’re going to have to learn. You’re going to have to lead them, you’re going to have to decide who goes into battle, who might die, whatever happens here, you will be the one bearing the responsibility.”
The lion was on his feet. “You’re insane.”
LRK chuckled.
“I’m a father, you can’t expect me to send my children to die. That’s why Aemid went and got you. You’re the soldier.” Erin used the English word. “You were made to fight for others.”
“I was,” LRK agreed. “And that world was consumed by wars. Those sending me and my family to fight had no idea the cost because they never suffered from it. I should have died there, but I didn’t. Instead I saw more and more soldiers die in needless wars. You want this war? You need to be ready to suffer for it. You need to take responsibility for it.”
“I will not,” Erin growled.
LRK shrugged, opened his mouth.
“I will.” All heads turned to Aemid. He didn’t look at them. He looked at the floor. From his angle, LRK saw his eyes, saw him lost in memories.
“You can’t do that,” his father said dismissively. “You’re just good to fetch water for the workers.”
LRK glared at the older lion, but remained silent. He wasn’t involving himself in that argument.
Aemid stood. “Fine, then who?”
Erin pointed to LRK.
“He already said he wasn’t doing that.” Aemid looked around. “Grandfather told us that we don’t get to make the rules, just do the best we can within them. We will have to fight. I don’t want to, but I want to see us suffer from unreasonable taxes even less. I want to see children die of hunger, or working the fields until they fall, less. You don’t want me to lead, Father. Fine. You do it. Someone else do it.” No one replied. Aemid looked at LRK. “What do we have to do next?”
“Do you represent every farmer? Will they all go along with your decisions, or are you going to have to fight internal battles as well as external ones?”
“Of course they’ll follow us,” Erin said.
LRK ignored him. Aemid didn’t share his father’s certainty.
“You need to know that before you can star fighting. How long until the king realizes what you’re planing? You need to be ready by then, otherwise he’ll wipe you out. You have a seer, has she told you what the outcome is going to be?”
“I don’t know,” Aemid answered. “Jamine is rarely clear. I told you what she said to send me looking for you. That was the clearest she’s been.”
“Then you’re going to have to fight this the same as everyone else, blind. What are the king’s forces? Can you take them on in a straight on fight, or are you going to have to focus on sneak attacks? Can the king do anything to appease you? Could he make changes to how he rules, or does this run deeper? Are you looking to prevent further harm, or looking to avenge past ones?”
Aemid had a thoughtful expression, the others discouraged.
“The king’s never paid much attention to us other than sending the collectors after the harvest.” Aemid said. “So long as that isn’t disturbed and we keep the patrols from seeing the training, he shouldn’t be aware of what we’re planing.”
“But do we have to fight?” someone asked. “Maybe we can convince him it isn’t worth taking us on?”
Aemid looked at LRK, his expression was doubtful.
“The moment you give him your demands, you’re telling him you’re on alert. If he doesn’t agree to them, he’ll attack. You need to be ready to defend yourself or take the offensive. The one advantage you have is that he won’t take you seriously, but it also means he might not take your demands seriously, either.”
“Will you take our demands to him?” Aemid asked.
LRK considered it. “He won’t know me.”
“He doesn’t know any of us,” Aemid replied. “We’re not people to him. There’s a family of lynx with a farm on the other side of the city, I can give you their names, if you think it’ll help you pass as one of us.”
LRK shook his head. “If he won’t know who they are, there’s no point.” And it was possible that king would see it as enough of a show of force to agree if the demands were reasonable. “To be clear, me doing that doesn’t mean I’ll fight. This is your war.”
Aemid nodded.
“Do you go into the city? Do you sell there? Can you move unnoticed? You need to know how many soldiers the king has.”
“Too many,” a man said.
“No, he barely has a city guard,” a woman replied. Starting a discussion of the forces they might encounter.
“Wars aren’t always won by force,” LRK said when the silence returned. “It’s possible to win one with information, but you still need to be ready for violence. No war has ever been won without shedding blood. Can you get weapons? Who has powers that can be used offensively, or defensively?”
“No!” Erin stood. “This is not what I want.”
“That’s what war is,” LRK replied. “If Leech didn’t convey that in his stories, then he did all of you a disservice.” The thoughtful expression told LRK that was a possibility. Was that how Leech had managed to have a normal life? By hiding the worse of what they had been through?
Which of them had chosen the better path?
* * * * *
A dozen guards accompanied the collector as he walked through the warehouse, tabulating the harvest. LRK watched, accompanied by a middle-aged lioness with the power to be unnoticed. The collector walked by them, mumbling about the yield being low this season, and didn’t seem to smell either of them. Her daughter had a similar power, but stronger. She was in a second warehouse housing the surplus, making all of it unnoticed.
The dozen guards were unreasonable, LRK thought, a show to remind the farmers of the strength the king had, but they were bored. A few went so far as to flirt with the sons and daughters who didn’t keep away. A small coordinated attack could kill the group.
The collector finished his count and handed the result to Erin, who argued the results. Something about not having enough for the coming winter, but the collector rolled his eyes and commented on them having enough children they could afford to lose a few before walking away.
Erin’s anger was real, if not caused by the risk to his family. His comment about being responsible for those less fortunate had not been a boast. They didn’t have enough surplus to help everyone.
* * * * *
LRK accompanied the caravan bringing the tax to the castle. The city looked poor, not falling apart, but he’d seen less fortunate cities on the trek here with better construction, people who looked better fed. He buried his anger. This was not his fight. These people had to go after what they wanted, what they needed themselves, or they wouldn’t appreciate it.
Guards accompanied the caravan, but they were more interested in making sure no one approached than the crime taking place along the path. LRK saw two muggings and one woman break into a shop.
As they approached the castle, the state of the buildings improved; better repairs, larger plots, wealthier families. The castle itself was resplendent. Polished stone walls keeping the unwanted out. Trees and bushes lining the packed earth courtyard where collectors counted the cart’s contents. Further away, a human man was being beaten by a guard, the collector watching.
LRK ground his teeth, and the guard stumbled, hit by a sudden fever. Aemid followed his gaze. “He was short.”
“Did he have a reason?”
“It doesn’t matter. The king wants his taxes, regardless of who suffers.”
“But he’s hurting himself is the farmers die.”
“He doesn’t care. That’s why we have to take action. The next bad season we won’t be able to help anyone.”
“You could leave, all of you, let the king fend for himself.”
“This is home,” the lion replied, “we’ve been here since before the king, we won’t abandon it. And if we leave, the city folks will be the ones suffering, not the king.”
LRK felt through the castle grounds. Pockets of hundreds were assembled in parts he couldn’t see, training. Small pockets of people within the castle proper going about their businesses. A thousand guards maybe? It seemed like a lot of soldiers to keep within the city, but the amount of discontentment he saw among the farmers and city dwellers could justify it.
The real question was how prepared were they for a fight? Training was one thing but did they see real combat?
“When was the last invasion?”
Aemid stared at him.
“Hasn’t any rival city or kingdom attacked?”
“No. You saw how far we are from anyone. And we aren’t a rich kingdom, except for the king. He trades with some, but I don’t think there’s been one representative visiting in three generations.”
Guards counted the bags on the carts Aemid and his family brought for a bored collector, and the numbers matched. They were released. While the rest of the lions headed for the city gates, LRK and Aemid detoured through the city.
The streets wound around, making a direct route to the castle difficult. Many of them narrowed unexpectedly, creating choke points with positions on rooftops for archers to fire down on them.
The best way to take the castle would be by surprise, with a number of small troupes moving through the city, forcing the militia to divide their forces. That meant training them to work in small groups, finding as many with powers that could be used to sneak around unnoticed.
But beyond the training, LRK’s largest concern was feeding everyone. Wars were not quick things. The ideal time would be immediately after the harvest, but even then, the smart move by the king would be to destroy as much of the food as he could. That meant setting a force aside to protect them.
LRK glanced at Aemid, who was studying their surroundings. He had no idea what he was getting himself into; no one did when they started a war. It wouldn’t be pretty, and LRK was uncertain if Aemid would even maintain the determination until it began. The sacrifices required of everyone leading up to it would be a strain on the relationship with his family. The lion might not be able to deal with being apart from them, as a general needed to be.
LRK would help him as best he could, but once it was over, no mater how it went, this lion wouldn’t be the same.
* * * * *
The first month proved difficult. As far as LRK was concerned, Aemid was no leader. More times than not, the lion didn’t follow the lynx’s instruction. He refused to treat the men and women who would fight for him as soldiers. He continued to see them as friends, family, and neighbors.
It wasn’t that Aemid did not instruct them. He had LRK teach those who already owned swords how to fight with them, but when LRK pushed them, when he scared them, gave them a taste of what war was like, Aemid appeared and put a stop to it. He sent the combatant home to join their family in preparing the fields for the cold weather and escorted LRK back to his family’s home.
“You can’t be soft with them,” LRK stated.
“They aren’t soldiers. You need to be gentler with them.”
“War isn’t going to be gentle. If we don’t toughen them up now, they’re just going to run off at the sight of soldiers.”
“They won’t run,” Aemid stated.
“Aemid, you—”
The lion smiled. “They won’t run, you’ll see.”
“Then they’d going to die.”
The lion was silent until they reached the dirt road. The training took place far in one of the resting field to avoid being seen by passing guards.
“You need to remember, we weren’t made for war,” Aemid said, looking far ahead. “We weren’t created as soldiers. We are born to farm. My family has an advantage in that Grandfather told us stories, helped train those of us interested in sword fighting, but even here, not everyone learned.” He chuckled. “Not even everyone believes his stories. They don’t deny he was older than any of us, but from a time before any of this? Created, instead of born? Many in my family thought it was a sign he was getting too old, even if he didn’t show it.”
LRK grabbed the lion’s arm and stopped him. “Aemid, you have to stop thinking of them as your family. You’re going to get them killed. They’re your soldiers now, you have to treat them that way. It’s the only way any of them has a chance to survive.”
The lion placed a hand on LRK’s shoulder. “You have to believe in them.”
The lynx rolled his eyes. “This isn’t some tale of heroism. Belief isn’t going to save them. Hard work, and yes, suffering is what they need to toughen them up.”
The lion shook his head and headed for the houses. “Stop being so hard on them.”
LRK fell in step with an annoyed sigh. “I’m trying—”
“I know, I’m still asking you to stop being so hard.”
“Fine, it’s your war. I’ll do it your way.”
“It’s not my war, Thunder, it’s theirs. We just have to shape it so they have the best chance of surviving it.”
LRK glanced at the lion who still looked far ahead, surprised at the insight.
* * * * *
The shortening of the day brought its own set of problems.
“We can’t stop training now. We barely got in a couple of hours with all the work they’ve had to do.”
“The sun is setting,” Aemid answered. “They need time to reach their homes.”
“You really think the king’s army is going to stop attacking just because the sun goes down?”
The look Aemid gave the lynx said just that. “No one who considers themselves just will step outside once the dark sets in. The night is—”
“The time of evil, I know.” LRK hated superstitions. “Can we use one of the warehouses then? Bring them in with the setting sun, continue training, sleep there until morning.”
The lion thought about it. “That would work, but we need to see who won’t be needed at their homes come morning.”
LRK sighed. Of course, he considered that more important. War was coming, and Aemid wanted them to keep their farms working. He kept his thoughts to himself. It wasn’t LRK’s war. If they ended up all dying in it, he’d go back to his hut and forget about them.
Or try to.
* * * * *
LRK found that his best students were the teens. They had a fearlessness to them that meant if he pushed, they pushed back harder. Where the adults complained about the pains training gave them, the young people grinned and compared bruises and cuts. LRK still had to contend with almost no daylight, and none of the parents allowed the young men and women to spent the night in the training camp LRK set up.
Still, after a day of dealing with complaining adults, the enthusiasm of the teens felt good; reminded him of training with his siblings, the fun they had.
They gave him hope some would survive the coming carnage.
* * * * *
The heat of the forge thawed LRK’s bones after the trek through the blizzard and the puddle of water evaporated as quickly as it formed. Aemid guided him as if following a GPS, and LRK wondered if that was his power, or simply that he knew the layout of the farms so well he no longer needed to see where he walked to get to his destination.
“Aemid!” The large bull exclaimed as she stepped away from the fire. It was hot, far hotter than it should be. Looking away from the fire, LRK saw the glow in the bull’s eyes fade. She was taller and broader than even Vee, wearing only a thick leather apron and gloves.
“Garina,” the lion smiled. “May the sun always light your path.”
The bull grinned. “And you too, and all that.”
“She’s like you,” Aemid said. “She doesn’t believe.”
“But I respect,” Garina said, waving the comment aside. “I’m from Produgon, they’re more about praising the One, than the sun, but even then I was too busy with my forge to prostrate myself.”
“I have no idea who that is,” LRK said.
“You’re not missing anything. She’s all about being good and never having any fun.”
“Is that why you left?” LRK asked.
The bull hesitated. “No, the king’s son decided to be a blacksmith, and he couldn’t stand the competition. So me and Derek packed our bags and left. I did repairs on the road and I liked the people here, if not the king, but I don’t have to deal with him, just his collectors, so live and let live, right?”
“You do know we’re going to war with the king?” LRK asked.
“My understanding was that you’ll go to war if he doesn’t agree to be more reasonable in how he treats everyone. But It’s not like I’ll be doing the fighting. I’m making your weapons, but I’m staying at my forge. Derek, stop hiding and come greet our visitors.”
A young man stepped out from behind the forge. The incredible heat of the fire hid him from LRK’s senses. He was human, wore a leather apron over a shirt. He didn’t advance, giving them a shy wave that made the sleeve slide back to show a large bracelet. He quickly lowered his arm, pulling his sleeve down.
“He’s my son, and apprentice. I found him as a babe in an alley, in the arms of who was probably his father. He’d been killed. He’s shy around people, but he’ll make a great blacksmith.”
The young man was gone behind the forge, but the image of the bracelet stayed in LRK’s mind; the leatherwork, crisscrossed with copper wire. The carved wood embedded in it, the stones.
LRK eyed the forge. The fire was still burning far too hot, even though the bull’s eyes no longer glowed. He’d thought she was creating the heat, but now—
“Are you coming?” Aemid asked, as he and Garina headed through a door at the back. LRK tried to sense more about the forge, but the heat was blinding. He joined them, concerned about the conclusions he was reaching.
Hundreds of blades lay on the long table. Leaning against the wall rested a large hoe, smaller ones leaned next to it. She noticed where he looked.
“That’s for the Herrid family. Jam and his son have a contraption they attach to it so the two of them can pull it, with Kilian guiding it. They can plow an entire field in two days using it. The old one’s, well old, the blacksmith who made it doesn’t have my skill or power. This one’s hard iron, it’s going to last them a few generations. It’s the same stuff I made your swords from. I’m not the only blacksmith who knows how to make hard iron, I learned it from my teacher, but I can better control the amount of charcoal that does in it and the temperature it’s heated at. I’ve yet to have one of my hard iron tools break because it was done wrong.”
LRK nodded, picked up on one sword. The handle was wood.
“Derik made the handle, he’s as talented carving wood as he is working the forge. You’ll need to add leather to that for a proper grip and a stone to balance the weight.”
“Don’t you do that?” LRK swung it.
“I can, but Orik’s better.”
LRK looked at Aemid.
“Orik can shape stone, make it lighter or heavier. His work will make the swords’ handle shaped for each wielder.”
LRK put the sword down. “Will there be enough for everyone?”
“I have the rest of winter to make more, you’ll have all you need.”
“How do they compare to the work the king’s blacksmith does?”
The bull snorted in derision. Then startled at the glare LRK gave her. “Wait, you’re serious?”
“If there’s a chance these swords will break during the fighting, we need to know so we can arrange for the soldiers to have access to replacements.”
“They’re not going to break. We do good work.”
“I have no doubt, but how good is the king’s blacksmith at making hard iron.”
“As far as I know, he doesn’t know how.”
“Is there any way we can confirm that?” LRK asked Aemid.
“Not directly. We can’t get onto the castle’s ground. The best we can do will be to look at the guard’s swords. Those are his work. Garina, get these to Orik as soon and as discretely as possible. If the king finds out we’re arming ourselves, he’ll attack before we’re ready.”
“No worries, I’ll have them to Orik in the middle of the night. No one will be—”
“No!”
“I’m kidding,” she said. “Relax, I know better. I’ll move them with my cart as I get other works to the farms.”
Aemid relaxed. “I wish you’d stop making light of—”
Garina snickered and LRK tried not to smile.
“What?” the lion asked in exasperation.
“Not to make light of the dark?” the bull chuckled. “I would never think of it.”
Aemid sighed. “This is no laughing matter.” Garina bit her lips in an attempt to stop chuckling. “We should go, with the storm, it’ll take longer to get back and I’d rather not risk the dark.” He stared pointedly at the bull as he spoke.
She nodded, still trying not to laugh.
The humor left LRK, and he made his decision. “I’m doing to stay, if that’s okay with you Garina. Now that I’m warm again, I don’t feel like turning into ice. I can sleep on the floor anywhere that won’t get too cold.”
She sobered slightly. “I have an extra room for traveling iron seller. You’re welcome to use it.”
“Are you certain?” Aemid asked. “The training will suffer.”
“They can survive without me for a few days. I wouldn’t be any good anyway, not with ice all the way down to my bones. The warehouse is nowhere near this warm, I’d never melt. You can take over this time, or Baret. She’s better than any of them. She can take them through the practice.”
“Alright.” Aemid smiled, and LRK thought the lion found it amusing the warrior lynx didn’t like getting cold. “I’ll see you once the storm passes.”
The frigid wind tried to snuff the heat out in the seconds the door stood open for Aemid to leave, but it and the snow the wind forced in melted away.
“I’m afraid I won’t be great company,” Garina said, heading to the forge. “I still have more swords to make, along with repairs.”
“Who knows?”
She stopped halfway to the too-hot fire. She turned. “Knows what?” the wariness in her eyes said she knew what LRK meant.
“That Derek is a wizard.”
“You’re mistaken.” She edged toward the wall, where a large hammer with a handle half the length of her body rested. The leverage would let her hit metal with far more strength than she already had, or cave-in a head.
“The bracelet he wears, it’s wizard work. I’ve seen enough in my life to recognize it.”
“It’s just leather and woodwork, Derik enjoys making them.”
“Your forge burns too hot.”
She closed her hand on the handle. “I keep it hot.”
“Your eyes glow when you use your power. Derik built, or at least modified your forge to burn this hot.”
She picked up the hammer, her eyes glowing and the head turning red with heat. “I won’t let you hurt him.”
LRK sighed. “I’m not going to hurt him, I don’t care he’s a wizard, but I need to know who here knows, because if they talk, they are going to tear your son apart, and you won’t be able to stop them.”
Could Aemid know? No, if he did, he’d have killed Derik himself. The cold-hearted way he killed that bandit wizard demonstrated his level of hatred. He wouldn’t care he was Garina’s son. Aemid would believe he did her a favor.
“Do you think I’m stupid? Why do you think we had to leave Produgon? The prince spread rumors my power wasn’t enough. With Derik human, he had people believing he was a wizard. No one here knows, and I will kill you rather than let you threaten him.”
“I am not here to threaten him.” He sighed. “Put the hammer down Garina.”
She tightened her grip on it. Her hold was amateurish, but it shows she’d used it as a weapon before. How many cities had she fled before settling here?
“Leave.”
“Let me make a point, Garina.” LRK snuffed out the fire in the forge and drained the heat in the hammer’s head. Instantly the storm’s cold seeped into the building. Her eyes glowed brighter, but he stole the heat before it could be visible.
He felt the lighting and watched Derik raise his arm, sleeve pulled back. Sparks flew around the bracelet.
“G—G—Get aw—away from her.”
LRK didn’t move. The sparks around the bracelet didn’t reflect the increasing intensity building in the lightning. He lifted his hand as he felt its release, caught the lightning bolt and snuffed it out by closing his fist around it.
“Have I made my point? If I was here to hurt either of you, you couldn’t stop me.”
The glow left her eyes. “What do you want?”
“To make sure as many people here survive the coming war. That means I can’t have internal strife caused by someone accusing Derik of being a wizard. Does anyone suspect? Do you have a rival who could think he’s lying just to make your life difficult?”
“M-ma! The F-f-forge, it’s getting C-C-old!”
She cursed and threw the hammer aside, she ran to the forge and looked in, her cursing intensified. “Can you reignite it?”
“N—no. It’s out.”
More cursing. “I can’t heat something that big enough for the fire to catch.” She glared at the lynx. “Do you have any idea what you did? The iron’s going to go solid, it’s going to destroy my forge. How do you expect me to make your swords without a working forge? That’s what makes the hard iron, not me.”
LRK looked into the cooling metal, the surface had lost all its glow, but there was still heat underneath. “If the metal gets hot enough, will he fire restart?”
“I can’t heat this much metal,” she snapped.
LRK ignored her. “Derik, how hot does the metal need to be for the fire to restart?”
“Wh—white-hot.”
“You’re going to want to step away.” He closed his eyes and felt the heat in the forge. He didn’t pay attention to the parts that were solid, just the heat that remained. Took hold of it and breathed life into it. He felt the intensity radiate. The cries of surprise, then the forge did something and the wave of heat staggered him back.
He opened his eyes to the surface of the metal turning ever bright red, to orange and then white.
Garina looked at him with awe and fear.
LRK stepped to the forge and soaked in the heat. He turned to face her. “Can any rival try to hurt you by claiming Derik is a wizard?” he asked.
She shook her head. “The city blacksmith who used to get the farm’s metalwork retired. The man who took his place only does small work the city needs. I don’t accept those, and he doesn’t come after mine.”
LRK nodded. “Okay. You need to be more careful once the war starts. The king is going to try everything to disrupt our side, that includes attacking our blacksmith. If I could afford to lose you, I’d tell you to leave until it’s over, but it’s when we’re going to need you the most.”
He looked at the young man. “Can you send him away? Is there someone he can stay with until it’s over?”
“No,” the man said. “I have t—to maintain the f—forge.”
“I figured as much.” He hated this. “Both of you will be targets, and we have nowhere near the number of people needed to assign guards to you. That means you will have to protect yourselves, and Derik you can’t use any wizardry to do so. They get one look at what your bracelet does and even your allies will turn on you.”
LRK looked at the ceiling. “When the fuck did people turn on wizard?”
“The battle of Consendrin,” Garina answered. “Haven’t you heard the stories?”
“I’ve been keeping to myself for a long time.”
“The story says that in the wakes of the fall of the Celeste, the Council of Wizard in Concendrin decided to mount a coup. They sent word across the land and somehow coordinated an attack in all major cities. It was horrible, or so the stories say. Not all succeeded, but where they did, the following years were even worse. Wizards used people to run experiments, made devices that destroyed more of the cities they controlled. When the surviving kingdoms banded together to end their wizard reign, they outlawed all wizardrys, branded them all as evil.”
“The fall of the Celeste.” LRK closed his eyes. He’d created the power vacuum that had allowed this to happen. He remembered stories during that time of wizards controlling cities, but while Anthros had been the evil ones, the church had not condoned the mistreatment of anyone it considered good.
“Fuck! That’s why I have no business being among people.” He’d taken a bad situation and had managed to make it worse. And of course, because he’d run away from his guilt, he’d been nowhere near where that took place; so he allowed it to go on unchecked until people came and fixed his mistake.
He should leave before he made this place worse. But he couldn’t abandon them. They needed his experience if they had even a small chance of surviving.
He let out a breath. “Why did you raise Derik, if all wizards are evil?”
“They said, all wizards are evil,” She replied, “and under constant threat, what choice do most of them have? Derik is nothing like that. He only makes small things. I’m teaching him not to let wizardry control him. The forge is the biggest thing he made, and he only did that because I was failing. I couldn’t make hard iron. I can heat metal, but not control how it flows or mixes. It’s great for hammering it into shape, but my hard iron was brittle. His forge mixed it right. It makes the hard iron perfect; I just shape it.”
LRK nodded. He wished there was a way to make life perfect, the way Garina’s hard iron was. To control what went in and came out, then shape the result, but life was messy, would always be. He’d seen attempts at making life perfect, and that had not been life.
“Okay,” he rubbed his face. “You two need to learn how to defend yourselves without the use of power.” He chuckled. “And fortunately for us, I can sneak out at night and come teach you.”
“Oh Aemid is going to love that you do that,” Garina said, rolling her eyes.
“Then it’s best you don’t tell him.”
* * * * *
By the time winter ended, LRK expected their attempt at building something resembling a fighting force to crash. The food reserves had run low weeks before and the rationing was severe, but Aemid managed to keep the spirits high. He was as thin as any of them, but every one stood straighter as he approached. Listened to his advice and trained when he left. As Aemid had said, the people here didn’t crumble.
And LRK realized that Aemid had turned into one of those rare leaders who didn’t see the people under him as being under him. He stood shoulder to shoulder to them, worked the field, did repairs, trained. The lion did as much work as his family, friends and neighbors.
He didn’t build an army, but a community that looked after each other because he cared for them. They obey him because he cared for them.
The lion glanced at LRK. “What?”
LRK chuckled. “I’m appreciated being proven wrong.”
Aemid narrowed his eyes. “And who’s done that?”
LRK laughed.
* * * * *
Spring came, and LRK learned to farm as much as he taught them to fight. They weren’t the fighting force he’d directed, or been part of, but he now believed they stood a chance. Because of their low numbers, he taught them guerrilla warfare. Taking advantage of their knowledge of the surrounding woods to lay traps they could guide the king’s men into when the fighting started.
* * * * *
The king suspected something. That was made clear by the increased number of patrols walking the roads winding through the farms. Rumors were also circulating he’d increased the guard’s pay, and far more men entered the castle than left it.
The king was increasing his forces.
Aemid and LRK redoubled their effort to train their militia in secret, and as far as the lynx could tell, they were successful.
On one of the cooler spring evening, after the sun went down, LRK sat in the living room looking over hand-drawn maps of the city, of the fields and the forest, marking the best places for ambushes, both the king’s and theirs.
Aemid placed a mug of steaming wine on the low table. “It’s not great, but it’s warm.”
LRK took a sip and fought not to spit it out.
“We didn’t have any luck with this year’s wine,” Aemid said, sipping his and making a face.
“I don’t expect next year’s will be any better, but we’re going to be too busy to notice.”
“You expect this to be long?” Aemid asked.
“We don’t have the numbers needed to make this quick.”
“You could—”
“No.” He glared at the lion. “I told you. I’m done killing.”
“You don’t have to kill. Show them how powerful you are, show the king you can raze his castle, he’ll see he can’t win.”
LRK leaned back. “How many bandits walked away after I showed them what I could do?”
“A few did.”
“Those smart enough to understand that superior numbers don’t mean anything once powers are involved. This king is mistreating a community of farmers, one family of which is known to have powers. How smart do you think he is? I show him what I’m capable of, and all it will do is make him more determined to prove he’s stronger than I am. I’ve screwed up too many lives. I’m not taking a direct hand in this.”
“Is this why you don’t take anyone to bed?”
LRK tilted an ear. “That’s an odd question.”
“Grandfather told us how he and his family were. He delighted some of us with very explicit descriptions of some of your celebrations. Our parents hated it when he did that, but we were horny kids and loved listening. Those stories led more than one of us to experiment. So I’m surprised that you haven’t done anything. You must have noticed the interest you engender.”
LRK sighed. “I’m not right to be involve with.”
“I’m not talking starting a family, just taking an interested woman or man to bed for the night.”
LRK raised his eyebrow.
“Not me,” Aemid replied, smiling. “After listening to Grandfather’s stories, I experimented, and found women are for me.”
“I don’t trust myself not to get attached, and in this situation, if I get attached to someone, the results could be destructive.” He sipped the horrible wine. “Have you heard stories of the Celeste and its fall?”
“I did. Not a pretty story.”
“That was me. One of their priests murdered my son, and I laid waste to an entire faith in return. I doubt the stories talk about the casualties caught in the crossfire, the number of lives I destroyed because I had to avenge my son. We’re going into war. What could I do if the person I get attached to was killed?”
The lion was silent, looking into his mug. “You can’t live without attachment,” he said finally.
The lynx considered the statement. “I don’t think I’ve been interested in living in a long time. I’ve done more living in these past weeks of spring than in the last few centuries.”
“Once this is done, will you stay?”
LRK shook his head without hesitation. “I’m not suited to be among people. I bring death and destruction, even when I’m not the one causing it.”
“Working a farm could help you balance that.”
“I’m no farmer.” He indicated the maps. “These are my fields, death and destruction, my crop. All I can do it try to make sure only the right people are affected by it.”
Aemid drained his mug and choked. “I’m telling father to empty all the bottles. Nothing can be done to redeem this wine.” He stood and put a hand on LRK’s shoulder as he stopped by him. “Just remember, Thunder, you walk in the sun. No matter how you feel and what you’ve done, you are not a creature of the night.”
LRK placed a hand over the lions and squeezed it. “I’m glad you think that, but walking in the sun doesn’t make me a good person.”
“Yes, it does. One day, you’ll see that.” Aemid left him alone with his thoughts.
LRK tried to get back to the maps, to planning for the coming war, but his mind, his heart, wasn’t in it. He eyes the wine, trying to convince himself it could reinvigorate him. Or poison him.
He threw the content in the extinguished hearth and went up the stairs to his room. Spending most nights training Garina and Derik meant he should get as much sleep as he could.
A lioness agitatedly paced the corridor.
“Jamine?” LRK called. She spun and looked at him. Before he could react she was holding his shoulder.
“The gate,” she said urgently. “You have to reach the gate. There’s no other way. The gate in the field, remember that.” She let go of him, looked around with a perplexed expression, turned and walked away as if LRK wasn’t there.
He looked at her back vanish in a room that wasn’t hers. Sleeping conversation occurred, but the lack of surprise spoke to how often this happened.
LRK entered his room, trying to work out what she’d meant, or if what she’d said was even for him. He’d yet to see anything she said have relevance on the people she told them to.
He missed Suff’s precise precognitions.
* * * * *
With the planting over, LRK and the community fell into an easy patterns; keep an eye out for the guards, do the work that was required around the farm and prepare for the coming war. That still meant training, but now also ensuring there had places to hide their supplies. To hide themselves once the fighting started.
Camps were established within the forest and hidden by powers and nature. LRK created numbers of dens in the ground, a mother and daughter with power over plants created a treetop camp. Preparations were made to move Garina’s forge.
At the farms, anyone in Aemid’s family with even a touch of power over how the crops grew, spent their days helping them along. Ensuring they had the bumper crop to put any other to rest. Then needed all the surplus they could hide if they wanted to survive once the king cut them off from the rest of the world.
And Aemid managed to keep everyone’s spirits high. Whenever there was a problem, he was there to help, to offer advice, encouragement. LRK watched him work and found himself wondering how his war might have turned out if he’d been able to relate to the people he directed, instead of ordering them about.
LRK chuckled and went back to creating more dens. Aemid was the proof the lynx should never be in charge of anything ever again.
* * * * *
Fall was busy.
Hardly any training occurred as everyone worked the fields, and the little time not taken with that, or hiding the harvest, was spent quietly moving as much to the camps as they could.
The patrols were even more numerous now, but clearly none of them had the knowledge needed to understand what the farmers were doing since all they did was comment on how every one ran around like the world was about to end.
Three days before the collectors were to arrive, the fields were empty, the crops and animals in the forest. They couldn’t wait anymore. When the patrol walked by in the morning, they’d be able to tell something was amiss.
“So we’re agreed,” Aemid said to the assembled people in his family’s living room. “As soon as the sun peeks over the horizon, Thunder goes to the king to deliver our terms and we go hide. We wait for his return with the king’s answer.”
“They won’t let him return,” Jrun said. “They won’t even let him talk to the king. He only sees who he wants to see.”
“They won’t be able to stop me,” LRK answered. “And who knows, maybe it’ll be enough of a demonstration the king will see reason.”
“We can hope,” Aemid said. “We can hope.”