Lamentation

Chapter 9

Rudolfo

Rudolfo spent the day with his captains directing intelligence skirmishes on the Entrolusian advance camps. The first battle had cost the Overseer six young officers and one seasoned master sergeant along with a host of infantry. They’d also accounted for a half-squad of Sethbert’s elite Delta scouts, though there could’ve been more. It was hard to tell until the magicks wore down.

A good first battle. And he had a bird this morning from House Li Tam. Vlad Li Tam’s iron armada steamed for the Delta now and would blockade the mouths of the Three Rivers. It was a small armada, but even small it could easily handle the City States’ navy. The Androfrancines had seen to that, not wanting the bank that stored such a significant percentage of their wealth to be unprotected. And the Li Tam shipbuilders had been the only shipbuilders that could build the iron ships, even with the specifications the Androfrancines had reconstructed from the ruins of the First World.

House Li Tam’s engagement was a start, nothing more. Rudolfo knew that the Emerald Coasts had no foot soldiers or cavalry to spare. They would keep what they had near home, knowing that the City States had more to contend with than the three brigades that had ridden north to Windwir.

But the armada would help. And as word spread, others would join. Rudolfo couldn’t imagine any of the Named Lands entering the war on the side of the Entrolusians. He’d already sent a dozen birds to a dozen lords, careful to use words like The Desolation of Windwir and This War of Entrolusian Aggression. Even those who hated the Androfrancines-and there were few who did-would not be able to find common ground with someone who had burned away that city’s knowledge. Those few who sneered at the ancient Order did so out of jealousy. Rudolfo had no doubt that they’d have killed the Androfrancines, too, without a moment’s hesitation. But they would never have touched the library.

For two thousand years, the Androfrancines had built that library, storing knowledge dug from the ashes of the Old World. The wonders they’d dared share with the world-the scraps they’d doled out carefully over time-were amazing to behold. But who knew what wonders they’d kept hidden away, knowing that the world was not yet ready? Who knew what wonders they had yet to sell as humanity grew out of another adolescence, when its adulthood was cut short by the Third Cataclysm known as the Age of Laughing Madness.

For a moment he t fp›‹ least="least" isaak,="Isaak," inside="inside" innocence="innocence" in="in" immediate="immediate" hoped="hoped" himself.="himself." him="him" held.="held." held="held" head="head" having="having" had="had" fondness="fondness" felt="felt" extraordinary="extraordinary" despite="despite" counterparts="counterparts" bring="bring" between="between" been="been" back="back" at="at" androfrancine="Androfrancine" an="an" acolyte.="acolyte."›

It had been an easy decision.

Now Gregoric nudged him. “Here they come, General.”

Rudolfo looked, and down the ridge from them he saw the grass bending back as something-or several somethings-came in their direction. A brown bird lifted from their midst, and he smiled. “Excellent,” he said. “They’ve driven back another camp.”

“It’s a good start,” Gregoric said.

Rudolfo looked at him. They’d grown up together, Gregoric just a bit older. He’d been, surprisingly enough, the son of his father’s First Captain of the Gypsy Scouts. Later, when Rudolfo’s father lay dying and the mantle of the Ninefold Forest Houses was new upon Rudolfo’s twelve-year-old shoulders, he’d promoted Gregoric’s father to General. It had been his first decision, knowing that despite their seclusion in the northern, prairie-hemmed forests, the world would be watching for signs of strength in the young, new lord.

Gregoric had followed his father into the First Captaincy, and he’d been a flawless leader for the scouts. Even under crisis, it was obvious that he was getting his sleep, unlike Rudolfo. He ran a hand through his short dark hair.

“It’s a very good start,” Rudolfo agreed. “It will get harder as he applies his better assets. He’s ever been the overconfident sort-I expect he’s fared worse than he thought he would. I even think,” he continued, “that we may have done better than Lysias expected, judging by his response yesterday.”

A low whistle cut up the hill and Gregoric returned it. The underbrush rippled as the squad of Gypsy Scouts slipped into the perimeter.

“Captain,” said a nearby voice, “and General.”

“What have you learned?” Gregoric asked.

“We have another confirmation that they’re only three brigades strong. We also learned they had a survivor-a boy. Beyond that, nothing more.”

“Excellent work,” Gregoric said. “Scrub down, get your men fed and get some sleep.”

“Aye,” the first scout said. “You heard the captain.”

Rudolfo waited until they were out of earshot. “A survivor. That’s new.”

Gregoric nodded. “He has another seven brigades. That’s what concerns me.”

“And he’s still not brought forth his best effort,” Rudolfo said.

“He’ll have to pretty soon,” Gregoric said, looking down the slope. Rudolfo followed his gaze and saw another wave of movement sweeping in through the high grass.

This time a white bird flew up, and both of them drew their swords. The infantry on the perimeter saw the bird, too, and drew blades as well. Rudolfo shot a glance to the Captain of the Archers nearby, and the captain nodded.

Gregoric started down the hill and Rudolfo followed. At the foot of the hill they waited, and the squad raced past.

“They’re just behind us,” the lead scout hissed as he slipped past Gregoric.

And they were, only these weren’t the magicked scouts they’d so easily mowed through yesterday. This pack was made of harder stuff. Rudolfo felt a searing pain in his side and realized even as he swung his sword down that a knife had slipped in and cut him.

Gregoric went to one knee, his thigh suddenly bleeding.

No one called attention to it. They wouldn’t want their opponents to know who’d been injured. But the Gypsy Scouts pressed in, both those who had just returned and the half-squad set aside for these very reasons, and they slowly pushed the Delta Scouts out of the tree line. Rudolfo had managed to wound one of them, but held back once his own scouts were in the fray.

Medicos raced to the front as soon as the fighting had moved back, and they supported Gregoric while running him back up the hill. Rudolfo followed without assistance.

Back in camp, he drank chilled pear wine and ate orange slices and warm sweet bread. Leaning back on his cushions, he reread the note from Vlad Li Tam.

My kin-clave with Windwir is now yours. It was a brief letter, but these closing words grabbed him. He chuckled.

“A formidable woman,” he said out loud. She had told her father about his three gestures. In other words, she had publicly acknowledged him before her father. Which meant in a good game of Queen’s War, she’d moved on the tower he’d threatened with and in turn now threatened his paladin.

And of course, her father had now responded with subtle grace. The symbol Vlad Li Tam had chosen for kin-clave was an old one that had fallen out of use.

It indicated the unity of houses through strategic marriage.

A formidable woman indeed, Rudolfo thought.

Jin Li Tam

Jin Li Tam’s quarters at the seventh forest manor were far simpler than what she’d had at the Overseer’s Palace, and the simplicity impressed her. It was a suite of rooms accessed through a wide set of double doors on the third floor. The closets were already stocked with a few items that seemed to be her size. She bathed, dressed in summer gowns and went down to the dining room.

Though he didn’t eat, Isaak was waiting there for her. Sitting away from the table, along the wall on a servant’s stool.

Jin pointed to an empty chair at the table. “Please, Isaak,” she said. “Join me.”

“Thank you, Lady.” He stood and limped over to the empty chair.

She noticed he was wearing a clean robe and it prompted her to smile. “Why are you still wearing your disguise?”

He looked at her, looked down at the robe, and smoothed it with his metal hands. “I do not know. It seemed appropriate.”

He had his hood down, so she knew it wasn’t that he meant to hide himself. Something else then? “Are your quarters satisfactory?”

He nodded. “They are, Lady Tam.”

The smell of fresh baked bread and venison stew filled the room as the kitchen door swung open. A servant hastened in, carrying a steaming platter. She placed it in front of Jin Li Tam and then retreated.

Jin paused, trying to decide between the stew or the bread. She broke off a piece of the hot bread. “When will you start your work?”

Isaak buzzed and a bit of steam jetted out. “I’ll start tonight by cross-referencing the mechoservitor work logs-I translated them last year-and see exactly what we might still have between us. Scrolls are replaced or cleared from time to time, but it’s rare.”

She nodded, dipping her spoon into the stew. She held it beneath her nose, smelling the fresh onions, carrots mingled with venison roast k veipped in herbs and spices that made her mouth water. “How long will that take?”

“Two weeks, five days, four hours and eight minutes,” he said.

“And after that you’ll recalculate your ciphers?” She chased the stew with iced apple cider.

“Yes.” A breeze blew in from the forest carrying the faintest scent of evergreen and wood smoke. The light from the candle reflected off his metal face. “After that, I will go to the last of the Androfrancines and appeal for aid.”

The door opened and the steward walked in. “Lady Tam,” he said, “I’ve just received a bird from your father. Would you prefer it now or after you’ve finished?”

She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Now, please.”

He handed the small scroll to her and she unrolled it, holding it to the light.

The surface message was simple and nondescript. I’m glad you are well, it said. But under the surface, triple coded and buried, was the longer message: I approve of your choice; you will assist in the rebuilding of the library. And the tense he used and the slightest blurring of the dot of an “i” told her that Vlad Li Tam considered his forty-second daughter betrothed for purposes of kin-clave.

She looked at Isaak and then back at the note in her hands. This was not entirely unexpected, but the timing was at a faster pace than she’d planned for. It confirmed her suspicions, certainly, that her father was involved in Rudolfo’s plan to rebuild the library before she’d known of it. She looked again at the metal man, wondering what lay ahead of them in the upcoming months. She thought about the man she was betrothed to, now, and wondered what lay ahead of her, and Rudolfo as well.

When she spoke, it could’ve meant either or both. “We should discuss the strategy of it,” she said.

Neb

Neb couldn’t help but stare at the old man as they drove their wagon south to Kendrick. Neb had dragged him to it, pointing, and the old man had made a big show of hitching the horses to it and tying his own to the back.

“I’m glad you didn’t let this get away, Del,” he said with a wink.

Neb watched him scan the back of it, saw his eyes light up at the tools, and then climbed into the seat beside him.

When the guards had escorted him to the edge of their camp and pointed them sout knteifyhward, he’d thanked them profusely. Once they were out of sight, he leaned in to Neb.

“We’re not out of it yet, lad. They’ll have scouts shadowing us most of the way.”

Neb nodded.

They rode in silence, stopping briefly to eat stale bread and hard cheese from the old man’s saddlebags. Neb lay back against the wagon wheel, stretching himself out. In the forests that edged the river road, birds flitted in the shadows and chirped at them. A kingfisher dove the river, coming up from the slow, wide waters with a fish in its bill.

He couldn’t speak to ask the old man if he was who he thought he was-but he also wasn’t sure that he should ask anything with Entrolusian scouts nearby. After all, if Sethbert had hated the Androfrancines so much that he crushed them like a garden snake beneath his boot, he couldn’t possibly love an Androfrancine Pope.

Neb still wasn’t sure if leaving the camp was the best of all possible choices, but the old man had made that happen without leaving him much room to protest. Perhaps, he’d seen Neb assessing the Overseer’s security. Neb wondered if he’d been that obvious.

And if the old man had seen it, others may have as well. So it was possible that Neb owed him his life. It was also possible that Neb had now missed his first, best chance to bring down the madman who had killed his father and robbed the world of Androfrancine light.

Now they rode for Kendrick with a wagon full of supplies meant for the Gamet Dig, far south and east, in the Churning Wastes. Questions rattled him, poking at him as if he were in a cage.

He glanced at the old man again. He was checking the back of the wagon, rummaging through one of Brother Hebda’s pouches as if it were his own. Neb leaped to his feet, feeling a surge of anger that he wasn’t sure what to do with.

The old man saw the look on his face. “I’m looking for the Letters of Credit and Introduction.”

Hot shame flashed through him, and Neb opened his mouth to speak. A flow of garbled words poured out, sentence fragments from the Nineteen Gospels, the Francine Codex and the other scattered bits that made up the Whymer Bible. He closed his mouth, then tried again with the same results. The old man grabbed up the pouch and pushed it into Neb’s hands. He leaned in close, speaking quietly. “There’s paper in here. And pencils. This will help our rather one-sided conversation. But do nothing until we know we’re clear of Sethbert’s men.”

Neb nodded. Later, once they were safely shut into a barn along the way or if they actually pressed through and found an inn in Kendrick, they would have many questions for one another.

The old man climbed into the creaking seat, and Neb climbed into the back this time, holding Brother Hebda’s pouch to his chest. There was the snap of a crop and a high, sharp whistle. The wagon lurched forward.

As they rode, Neb’s mind wandered. A mad Overseer smothering the world’s best light and plunging them all into darkness. A beautiful woman with the sunrise in her hair and secrets on her lips. An old, strong Pope back from the dead to avenge his desolate city.

It belonged in a story-like one of the hundreds he’d read on those quiet days spent in the library. And the memory of it was so strong that Neb could smell the parchment as the rocking of the wagon and the warm afternoon sun gentled him to sleep.

Petronus

Petronus heard the boy’s quiet snores from the back and looked over his shoulder. It was good that he slept. He looked like he hadn’t slept for days, and Petronus could understand that. He’d not had a full night since the day he saw the cloud. And though he didn’t need much these days, he’d take what he could.

While he drove, he wondered about the boy.

It was obvious that he could speak at one time and he was certainly intelligent. Well educated, too. Probably one of the orphans-they received the best education in the world, better than any lord’s child. They received the education reserved otherwise for the Androfrancines. Hells, they were Androfrancines as far as Petronus was concerned. And they didn’t really get a choice in the matter. By the time they were old enough to have minds of their own, they had already been filled with the backward dream, the constant looking to the past to mitigate the future. Most of the orphans joined the Order when they reached their majority. Even the girls served in some way, though their prospects were less glamorous within the male-dominated knowledge cult.

Petronus had certainly strayed from the vows from time to time-especially during his early years in the Order. But he’d always taken care, and his dalliances hadn’t lasted long enough for him to worry overmuch.

But others weren’t as careful, for reasons all their own. It was easy enough-especially for an Androfrancine, with access to the potions and powders for either man or woman who wished to avoid offspring. Maybe, he thought, life longs to recreate itself.

Still, if his assumptions were correct, the boy in the back was one of hundreds that the Androfrancines had brought into the world and then dropped into their orphanage as if the world’s best education among the world’s brightest scholars could make up for a mother who baked fresh bread and a father whose hands stank of fish.

And he saw Windwir fall. Gods, what a terrible thing to see at any age. Th kat "›‹ the="the" from="from" about="about" to="to" had="had" been="been" yet="Yet" wits="wits" vocal="vocal" than="than" still="still" steer="steer" not="not" more="more" lad="lad" have="have" fifteen.="fifteen." couldn’t="couldn’t" chords,="chords," boy="boy" being="being" apart="apart" able="able"›

Enough to plan an assassination, it seemed, though with more bravery than discretion.

And why Sethbert? The line of the boy’s face couldn’t lie. He’d meant to harm the Overseer either then and there or sometime later. Yet he’d not balked at Petronus’s intervention.

Petronus hadn’t found the letters he was looking for in the courier pouch. They should’ve been with the wagon, but then again, the boy wasn’t old enough to be an acolyte. Perhaps an internist or an assistant, though even those were usually in their majority. So certainly there were others along at one point in time. The wagon was clearly bound for the Wastes-routine by the looks of it, and not carrying anything of value to merit a Gray Guard escort.

So both the letters and at least one other Androfrancine was missing.

And then there was the war. The two nearest armies had ridden to Windwir’s aid and were now fighting each other. Why? One of his favorite Whymer quotes was P’Andro Whym’s response to the question put to him about finding truth.

The truth, the Seventeenth Gospel said, is a seed planted in a field of stones beneath a stone and guarded by snakes. To have at it, be strong enough to move the stone, patient enough to dig the hole and fast enough to dodge the viper’s fang.

He would continue his excavation when the boy woke up, when he could be sure that there were no ears or eyes but their own. And he would not forget that vipers came in many shapes and sizes.