death's knight 24

 

 

Chapter 24

 

The boy, Epiphio, came to the Alethosi temple shortly after dawn on the solstice.

“He has gone,” he said, numbly. “Make it the best quest of your life, for his sake, Lord-Priest of Alethos,” he added, to Kaz.

“Best shot of my life,” agreed Kaz.

 

oOoOo

 

Erytheon knew he was with the child, and his blind eyes saw that she was in some vile cross between a cot and a cage; and she would appear to human eyes to be perhaps four years old.

“Hello, little one,” said Erytheon, softly. “I am here to ease the pain, and to teach you about our father, the sun, who is no enemy of ice, but gives it a sparkle greater than any jewel.”

“Are you my father? They said my father does not care about me.”

“I am not your father; and your father does not know you exist. But you will have a new mother and father. I am here to tell you about them, so you will not be scared.”

“They will hurt you.”

“Of course. But it does not matter. I am here to help others right a wrong; and to give you a blanket with glyphs on it.”

“Will you take out the pins Allenna Dren has put in me? They hurt, and if I do not cry enough, she pulls on them to make them hurt more.”

Erytheon was now a priest of fate; which was to say, also of time. The bars of the cot-cage rusted and fell away to his touch; as did the pins, driven through the child’s flesh, and bent to form rough rings so she could not pull them out.

“Where it bleeds, rub it on the glyphs. That will activate them. Then, they will be a beacon for your new parents. Fear no more, Chionea. Sleep when you open the glyphs of Storm and of Truth. And let Fate herself remove from you the chaos taint of unnatural ageing.”

The child sank down in sleep, covering the glyphs.

“Poor child,” murmured Moraia, in her priest’s mind “With the chaos taint, she would have been an old crone by the time she had lived five years; but by then, Selen would have had no more use for her.”

“Moraia, can you give her back the age she should be if I sacrifice the years I might have lived, if I was not fated to come here? I could, after all, still choose to leave. If she was a baby again, not remembering all this pain and hatred...”

“You would do that for the child? Age as fast as she de-ages?”

“I would.”

“I accept your sacrifice, dear one.”

The child shrank and de-aged before him.

“Now, leave the tent. If you will give the prophecy, I will show you where to go.”

“I will go and do what I am here to do; and as I do, Thyella can take the child, and the Daykaz can go to her fate.”

Erytheon walked as he was guided, directly to the tent of Allenna Dren, and moved with an agility not to be expected of an old man right past the guards and into the tent before they realised his intention.

Allenna was going through papers, and looked up.

“I said I was not to be disturbed! Who are you?”

“I am Erytheon Sun-Toucher. I have been guided to you to speak a prophecy,” said Erytheon. He smiled as the guards followed him in. “If they strike me down, I will become more powerful than you can possibly imagine,” he said.

Allenna flipped a hand in dismissal.

“Leave us; what can old father time here do to me?” she sneered.

The guards reluctantly withdrew.

“Speak your prophecy,” said Allenna.

Erytheon let the words which he knew were hidden from him come to his unconscious lips.

“Behold! The willing sacrifice of years from Fate’s beloved shall be riven from him to punish the defiler of the child of winter. Let her look in the mirror to see how the fairest of features is ravaged by the age forced on the Snow White child.”

Allenna felt her skin changing, sagging, her breasts suddenly heavy and dragging. She glanced down at her hands, which were wrinkled and unsightly, with age spots. She snatched up the light shield she kept with her arms, and gazed into its mirrored surface, to see an old, wrinkled face, not the dignity or serenity of age on a face which has lived life to the full, but an ugly face full of discontentment, each sour thought echoed by a wrinkle.  And before her, Erytheon was de-ageing, becoming a vigorous man of indeterminate age somewhere around the right side of forty. His eyes cleared as hers dimmed with cataracts. She screamed in terror and rage, and picked up her dagger, and drove it home into Erytheon’s chest. His body sank to the ground... and dissolved.

“Guards! Guards!” screamed Allenna Dren.

The guards ran in.  There were some clothes on the ground but no old man; there was an old woman, however.  They looked at each other, and seized Allenna Dren.

“What have you done to Allenna Dren?” one demanded, roughly. “Who are you?”

Allenna Dren might sob for all she was worth that she was Allenna Dren; but they did not believe her. She was dragged off to the stockade for prisoners, and thrown onto a bundle of straw in the roughly covered, but open-sided prisoner pens. Then they went in search of Thorus Mils.

 

oOoOo

 

Moraia embraced her Chosen.

“Well done! I knew you would make all the right choices,” she said.

“I’m still a little confused; I don’t know what I said,” complained Erytheon. “Or why I felt my body burst with vigor before she killed me.”

“You know as well as I do that if made immortal, you keep the age at which you achieve it, even if not ageing any further,” said Moraia. “Well, I cheated. Because you made a sacrifice freely and willingly for another, I was allowed to pass that off onto Allenna Dren; and that was the prophecy. That her ill treatment of that poor child made it possible to exchange her ageing for yours. And I may have gone a teensy bit further than what you gave.” She kissed him. “Now, let us check that Harkon and Thyella do their job properly, and that the Daykaz is on track of when she is supposed to be, and then I’m going to shag you senseless. I’ve been waiting all eternity for you, my promised one, so it will wait a little more.”

 

oOoOo

 

Thyella was pacing back and forth.

“Love, you will wear yourself to bits,” said Harkon. “Come over here, and sit on my knee, and tell me how much you love me, and we can kiss and cuddle, and pass the time better than pacing like a cat on hot tiles.”

“I don’t know what to expect, and it unsettles me,” said Thyella. “Hark! That was a chime; is that for us?”

“Time to get involved,” said Moraia, in the thoughts of both of them.  “And Erytheon has made a choice which enables me to make Chionea into a baby again, and wipe her memory of pain, so you only need love her and bring her up as your daughter.  He has left the glyphs for you to follow; Chionea is essentially in your temple, Thyella. Go and get her.”

Thyella could feel a new temple; hardly more than a chapel, but it counted. She seized Harkon by the hand, and walked into it.

“What is this cage?” she cried.

A baby girl with hair as black as soot, skin as white as milk, and lips like rosebuds opened eyes as blue as ancient ice, surrounded by sooty lashes. She was partly in the clothes of a child of about four.

“Mamamam?” she said, putting up her arms; Thyella scooped her up.

“Come home with Mama and Papa,” she said, picking up the blanket with glyphs, which had constituted a makeshift temple. Harkon took them both in his arms to bring into the temple of Alethos, there not being a dedicated shrine to Thyella in the city.

“Mother! Let it rain!” cried Thyella. “And may my gentle sister, Zephyra, blow and carry away the snow and ice.”

The desultory snow had stopped, and presently a warm, western wind started parting the freezing fog, bringing with it heavy rain.

“And now, Protasian shall release the sluice gates,” said Harkon, happily. “Baby girl, you will be avenged!”

“And by the grace of Fate, she will never know that she needed it,” said Thyella.

 

oOoOo

 

Thorus Mils knew Allenna Dren’s family, and had no difficulty in recognising that the hysterical old woman was a Dren; and claiming to be Allenna under some ensorcellment was not a far stretch to make.

“But what is this about an old man, and where is he?” asked Mils, puzzled, once Allenna was back in her own bed, with a hot stone at her feet, and warmed mead to drink.

“He just walked in and said he had a prophecy to give,” said Allenna. “He said, ‘Behold! The willing sacrifice of years from Fate’s beloved shall be riven from him to punish the defiler of the child of winter. Let her look in the mirror to see how the fairest of features is ravaged by the age forced on the Snow White child’ and whilst he grew younger as I watched, I grew older. I stabbed him in rage and outrage, and he... he just accepted it, and his clothes fell to the ground, empty.”

“It’s something to do with the unnatural growth of the brat, isn’t it?” said Thorus Mils.

“I suppose so,” said Allenna. “I did what my goddess told me; hurt the child to make her produce bad weather.”

“I suspect you may have to pray for divine intervention,” said Mils. “I’ll go and check on the child.”

 

He was back shortly.

“She’s gone,” he said. “The side of her pen has been.... rusted away. I sent people out to look, but there’s worse.”

“Worse? How can there be worse?” Allenna Dren paled. “Our goddess will never heal me of this unnatural ageing if we’ve lost the brat.”

“I had an envoy with a letter from the city,” said Mils. “It reads as follows. ‘From Lightfather Chrysandion Lightspear, surnamed Chrysandos, of the Temple of Solos, to Thorus Mils, commander of the Selenite  camp, Greetings. It has come to my notice that Sun-Seer Erytheon Sun-Toucher, surnamed Chrysandos and own brother to me, Chrysandion, insisted on approaching your camp under the trance of true-seeing, with the need to deliver a prophecy. He has not returned, and we demand his return immediately in good health; or at least, his body if you barbarians do not recognise the sanctity of a seer and have caused him harm. He is in frail health being many years my senior. If he has been harmed, we shall, of course, under proper usage, require the perpetrator to be delivered up for justice.’ How in the name of Chaos can I deliver a man or the body of a man who has disappeared? And obviously I cannot deliver you up for having killed him, over such an infamous prophecy.”

“Write back that the impudent fellow used prophecy as an excuse and used some magic to vanish, leaving only his clothes, and has stolen a child, an innocent, who is dear to us, a little girl some four years old, with black hair, pale skin, and blue eyes,” said Allenna. “Chide him for pretending to believe in the old man’s motives when plainly he was bent on kidnap.”

“But what if he did not kidnap her? You said you struck him and there is blood on the clothing.”

“What else are we to suppose? Do you think she got out of that cage on her own?”

“No, and I suspect he had others – some of those damned trógling, no doubt, who sneak around seemingly freely. Who knows what toróg messes there are which can turn steel to rust.”

“Well, make a bluff of it and act outraged,” said Allenna.

“Well, I can try,” said Thorus Mils.

 

Thorus Mils did not expect much of an answer from the Lightfather of Solos, a position respected in all the Empire, as were Sun-Seers. Losing one was a serious breach of protocol.

Chrysandion was outraged, and half crazed with grief.

His brother was helpless without his guide, and he had directed his young guide, a nephew to both of them, to go to the Alethosi, leaving him to find his own way to and through the camp. There was no child of that description in his temple, and nobody he questioned had heard of her.

“We must make a sortie and punish them,” he said to Pythas. “Perhaps your people can scout...”

“Chrysandion, read this,” said Pythas, giving his old friend the letter dictated by Erytheon. The Lightfather read it.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“The child was a child of Ombros, and Erytheon had precise instructions from Fate herself to create a diversion for the rescue of the child; and he has ascended directly to the halls of Fate in reward for faithfully reporting all that she needed,” said Pythas. “I am sorry for your loss, but I rejoice for Erytheon. And the child is with the kin of Ombros.”

“We can’t let this slide, though.”

“We aren’t. Protasion thinks we have another hour before their camp collapses into muddy pits,” said Pythas. “And your duty is to Kaz. She is waiting for you.”

Kaz was indeed waiting, and went quietly with Chrysandion to the Solosi temple.

 “We ascend to the god-plane, to send you where and when you need to go, as sunlight can penetrate anywhere,” he said. “Do you know what you have to do?”

“Not in detail, no,” said Kaz. “I expect it will be one of those things like sudden chimes that I know without knowing,  which I will know when I get then.”

“Get then?”

“Well, isn’t the timing about more than the place?” said Kaz. “Then and there become the same thing.”

“Don’t give me more of a headache; I had enough of one calculating the ritual.”

“I am grateful,” said Kaz. “How difficult can it be, go back in time, confront Daze, make him think of trógling to start the being of my people, insult him enough to curse me, come home.”

“I suppose for heroes it is that simple,” sighed Chrysandion.

“No, it’s because I’m terrified and trying to kid myself that I’m not,” said Kaz.

“Ah, then I am more hopeful that you will succeed. I wish you good luck,” said Chrysandion.

 

death's knight 23

 

Chapter 23

 

Harkon strolled out of the temple in the deadlands for the plainsfolk, nodding to Arrag.

“Harvest all cached?” he asked.

“Not only cached but with more than one way in and out,” said Arrag. “We’re running a series of underground passages, and the speed is really only limited by how many sand to stone spells my people collectively can cast in a day, because we need more than just props, because there are going to be cattle and horses thundering over the top.”

“Well done,” said Harkon. “I’ll be back and forth, scouting, and when the army is committed, I’ll be arranging for fire on the steppe. Tell Kurihor to be ready for it, and to have the priestesses of Mother Rain, or whatever they call her here to give the land a really good soaking.”

“And any soldiers underneath it as well?” said Arrag, sniggering. “I think it’s Mother Mare, mother of the Skyhorse.”

“Well, at least that’s the correct relationship,” said Harkon. “Fine, carry on.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Arrag.

The weather here was significantly warmer, and dry, if a little sullen. Clouds covered the sun. This made travel easier for Harkon, who sprang lightly upwards, calling on Thyella’s spells. The whiff of ozone made him wrinkle his nose; and he realised that Thyella had no idea how noisy her arrival and departure was. He managed not to snigger. After all, he loved her dearly.

 

Things had moved on at the Great Plains River. Harkon appreciated looking down as if on a map made of real land. It gave him an appreciation of the vastness of the Selenite empire, occupying the greater part of the coast, and their impressive road network, wider even than was shown on maps. Harkon cursed, having thought mostly in straight lines, and using the lakes for transport; there was also, it appeared, a large contingent of sea-going ships assembling at the coastal port of Selenopolis, which had sailed in from other coastal cities, and were embarking troops. These were doubtless to sail north to Hals Ochuroma to march to Mesolimnos. Other troops were leaving Phrourion, a garrison with a road to the road which skirted the Great Plains, and went on to Rhinopolis. There were troops marching beside the river, with its barges, but the enemy had been more flexible. This would, thought Harkon, be Thea Drex, who was a phenomenal planner.

The sea troops were the greatest threat. Harkon dropped a couple of lightning bolts on ships in the harbour; they lay closely enough together that with luck, fire would spread from one to another. Then, with deep regret for the wild animals, he set fire to the grass of the steppe nearest the road; and again along the road that skirted the plain. The plainsfolk were prepared, and would have breakfire ditches ready, to fight fire with fire, using burnback to create clear areas around their positions.

He saw a boy and a mule, trapped by fire, and used the lightning travel to land and whisk them both into the sky.

“Mighty Pieran! I will worship you and no other!” said the boy, and Harkon felt his sacrifice from his kormajiea. There was a chime.

Harkon’s thoughts could not be expressed clearly, or without a heavy number of words Kaz would scold him for using. He placed the boy down at the settlement he appeared to be heading towards.

“No, don’t kneel!” he said, hastily, as the boy would do so. “Live a good life.”

It was enough; the plainsfolk must do the rest. Harkon was tired, and he wanted a bath and his wife, and not necessarily in that order.

 

oOoOo

Thea Drex was managing to ignore the irritating dreams. Moreover, there was something about the handsome northerner which was familiar; and it nagged at her, and somehow repulsed her more than it attracted her. She threw herself into planning, and worked with Erlax Sorn to come up with how best to move troops north.

“I don’t like almost emptying Phrourion, lady,” said Sorn. “It leaves it vulnerable to attack from the north, if the plains barbarians approach it on the side not protected by rivers.”

“I know; but it is a strong fortress town, and I think they have enough to hold it against the sort of undisciplined raids the plainsmen favour,” said Thea. “They will have their own troubles when we strip them of their harvest. They might be desperate enough to attack, but they will be weakened, and therefore unable to use their full strength.  They can probably, if it looks serious, be bribed to go away with a meagre amount of grain.”

Erlax Sorn nodded.

“Yes, Lady, you are probably correct. I like your idea of placing the exhausted troops from the siege in Hals Ochuroma, to rest and recuperate, and leaving the fresh troops there whilst sending out the standing garrison, who have had a chance to become used to the northern climate.”

“It will be worse than usual; our goddess has obtained a means to visit the sort of winter on them normally found only in the northern mountains.”

“Ah, no wonder you wanted them hardier,” said Sorn. “And now I understand the tents with warming runes ready for activation, and stoves.”

“I want armies approaching from many directions, so they cannot send any hero to disrupt all of them,” said Thea. “If we lose one army, it is a problem, but not a tragedy... what is that shouting?”

An adjutant burst in.

“My lady! My lord! The ships in the harbour are burning! There was a storm, and lightning...”

“Daze’s bollocks!” swore Thea. “The knights of the clear skies have done this!”

“Natural storms do happen,” said Sorn. “They would surely not have the impudence to strike us in our own heartlands?”

“I... maybe not,” said Thea. “Bad luck happens too, and it is not all enemy action. Let us go and see what can be saved.”

 

oOoOo

 

“How is she resisting my dreams? It isn’t fair,” whined Zeandine.

“Maybe it’s just bad timing,” said Secalia. “Give it a rest; you can prod her when she is face to face with him.”

“I suppose so,” sulked Zeandine.

 

oOoOo

 

“I feel as if I should be doing more,” said Kaz.

“You’re preparing to be on Trickster’s Mound, outside of Selenopolis on the solstice,” said Harkon. “I can jump around causing some damage but it isn’t actually much more than an annoyance.”

“Can you arrive more quietly than Thyella and introduce an irritant to the supplies?” asked Kaz.

“I can’t hear myself, so I assume Thyella can’t, either, and so we can’t control the volume,” said Harkon.

“Well, you’ll just have to use your own little feet after arriving out of earshot,” said Kaz.

“You’re taking being offensive to new levels,” said Harkon.

“Practising for the Trickster,” shrugged Kaz. “I have to offend him enough to curse me.”

“Fair point,” said Harkon. “And what irritant were you considering?”

“Rats,” said Kaz. “If we set people to capturing them in the sewers it serves a double purpose; get rid of ours, and add to the misery of the Selenites.  I’ve eaten rat, at need; it isn’t pleasant, and humans need to boil them, rather than roast, as you don’t have such aggressive digestive systems as those of the toróg, but that’s by the by. Unless it ends up being the only meat they have.”

“I like it,” said Harkon. “I need time to rest, though. I wouldn’t have done as much, only I got worshipped a little bit by a lad I rescued from my fires, and he and his family worshipped me which seems a bit much as it was my fault he got into danger in the first place.”

“Just live with it,” said Kaz. “You know how to store power.”

“I do,” said Harkon. “But it takes it from Thyella and Ombros...”

“I’m at least half-resigned to losing my brother,” said Thyella, sadly. “He won’t be able to adapt. It’s why I’m spending time with him, until he makes me lose my temper with him. I love him better when we don’t meet too often.”

“I feel like that about Erippion Windblown,” said Harkon.

“My brother is the reason there are descriptive nouns like ‘blowhard’ and ‘windbag’ for boasters and the wordy,” said Thyella. “But I love him.”

“You can warn him; and maybe he can change,” said Harkon.

“I was wondering,” said Kaz, “If we could use shaping cantrips on dead rats to reduce their incisors and increase their canines, and tweak the skull shape, and cook them in that red spice the easterners like so much, and present Thea Drex with a meal of red ‘wolves...’”

“Now, that would get her hopping mad,” said Harkon. “Better to do once she arrives.”

“Or I can see to it being served to Allenna Dren and Thorus Mils before the reinforcements come,” said Kaz, happily. “I need to practice shadow-shifing, anyway.”

“You’re supposed to be resting for your ordeal,” said Lelyn.

“I can’t. It tires me out,” said Kaz. “If I can do something amusing, it will make me feel better.”

“I suppose I understand that,” said Lelyn. “I’ll obtain some red spice from Sono and Mono, the eastern twins.”

“We’ll have to do something about the tails, but a group of three red wolves, howling at the moon should get their attention,” said Kaz.

“Before, or after, I release the waters?” asked Protasion.

“Before; I want them to really enjoy the impact,” said Kaz.

 

Kaz and Lelyn turned their attention to making a beautifully displayed dish of spiced wolf, wearing collars, and presented on the rice which was a staple for the Selenites. There was a lot of shadow for Kaz to merge with, and she quickly reached her objective of the officers’ mess tent, where the senior priests were also catered to.

Kaz returned, sniggering.

“Ah, if only I could see their faces when they uncover the dish,” she said. “Let’s not mention this to Polia and Vulk, however; they might not think it as funny.”

 

oOoOo

 

Kaz was glad of Alethos, spending time in her dreams to help soothe her to sleep. The time seemed to creep forward like a snail, and then at other times it seemed to rush by, so that the time when she must confront Daze in the past rushed up on her.

She spent the day before the solstice in meditation and vigil, in the innermost sanctum of the temple, and there, Alethos came to her in person, and held her to him.

“I am some fine Alethosi, I am shaking in fear,” said Kaz.

“We all fear, at times,” said Alethos. “Courage is in doing that which you fear. Tell me about it, my little love.”

“I fear that if I die in the past, I will not come to you because you did not know me then,” said Kaz. “And I fear that I will not get it right, and he will not curse me, so that when I return to the future, I will no longer be your beloved, because it changed things if I get everything wrong. And I fear losing you...”

“My mother is in charge; she will see that all goes well,” said Alethos. “And if it’s any help, around the time of the trógling curse, I heard a quite painfully loud chime, which I did not understand, and my mother said, ‘You will know all about it one day.’ So, you see, you have already succeeded, and your quest is a mere formality.”

“But I haven’t, and I might tear all of space and time if I make a mistake...” said Kaz.

“I don’t think you can, my sweeting. Otherwise, you would not be foredestined,” said Alethos. “I believe in you. And now my mother has opened a memory she had clouded, that I received prayer from a powerful one of my people whom I did not know; but I was there for my hero.”

“Oh! Well, I can only do my best; but I hope you will not forget me too much if I fail,” said Kaz.

“Beloved, I can never forget you,” said Alethos, hoping that it was true, and that she would succeed, and that it would not change the world to be as if she had never existed; because that was beyond sorrow.

He felt his mother’s irritable presence, and was reassured.

To find such love and to lose it was not to be contemplated.

But never before had a night seemed so long to any of the immortals.

 

oOoOo

 

Erytheon woke Epiphio early.

The boy clung to his mentor.

“Hush, child, I am ready,” said Erytheon. “I will be able to visit you in dreams, I believe; so do not grieve. Learn what you may from the Alethosi, and wish the Daykaz good fortune. In truth, I am quite excited, for I have never had an adventure myself, having given my life over to foretelling the adventures of others. Lead me to the gate.”

“Will they let you out?” asked Epiphio.

“Yes, because I found out who was on duty, and bribed them ahead of time,” said Erytheon.

Epiphio gasped.

“But surely Alethosi and Pollosi cannot be bribed?” he gasped.

“No, but the city militia can,” said Erytheon. “Besides, I told them that I had cult business and it was best to ask no questions, but that I would be pleased if they would drink to my success. My poor young friend! I have shocked you by the perfidy of our fellow men.”

“But... suppose they are bribed to let others in?”

“Son, there are degrees of venality.  Letting out a glyph-level member of one of the senior cults of the city is a long way to letting in enemies; especially when the bribe is a gift of thanks to drink to my success, so it can be dismissed in their own minds as not really a bribe. And when they know that it is foretold that I must be without the gates on this day, and will be so, will they, nil they. And this way, they get a nice gratuity.”

Epiphio was almost quivering still, in outrage, and the old priest suppressed laughter. The boy was so very innocent.

Well, the Alethosi would protect him from the worst behaviour of mankind.

 

“Good luck, old man,” said the gate guard, soberly. “May fortune smile on you; and may your end be fast. It is a one-way mission, isn’t it?”

“It is,” said Erytheon. “Don’t let the boy follow; he has to seek out the Alethosi and tell them I am on my way.”

“One of us will escort him,” said the guard. “The sun shine on you.”

“And on you,” said Erytheon, sketching the Solosian blessing. He set off sure-footed across the bridge, without any hesitation.  His inner eye saw the path he must take with absolute clarity, as if someone else’s eyes were feeding the view in front of him into his eyes. He knew he would not encounter anyone, nor even any beast, nor trip on any guy-rope. He knew that there was a freezing fog, and that desultory snowflakes fell, and his boots, with warming charms in them as in his clothing, crunched through the fresh snow. He skirted sundry tents until he came to one with guards, who fell to quarrelling as he would have loomed out of the mist, and started pummelling each other. Erytheon walked around the unseemly brawl, and into the tent.

 

death's knight 22

 

Chapter 22

 

Kaz stood on a dam with Protasion.

“So, this is one of a number of pools there to fill with spate water in the wet season and after the snow melts in the north, to be released gradually, rather than have the water potentially flood the lower lying part of the city,” she said.

“That’s it,” said Protasion. “Which is why we have a dry river course below us and another dam to release it back into the river.”

“So, whilst that part is dry, if a number of tunnels were dug in the sides, and tunnelled under the camps of the besiegers, and the water was then let in....”

“We’d have to mend the holes again before spring,” warned Protasion. “But it would be very unpleasant for them to be undermined and fall into mud.”

“We’d better avoid the latrine pits, though. We don’t want that washing back into the river.”

“No, or we’ll be fighting cholera, too, it comes from contaminated water.”

“You are a fount of knowledge, Protasion. Use your engineering to draft the course of a couple of tunnels to cause them maximum misery.”

“It’ll be a pleasure.”  He shivered. “It’s got suddenly very cold.”

“Even more miserable for wet men,” said Kaz.

 

oOoOo

 

Allenna Dren, one-time high priestess of the temple of Selen in Mesolimnos, now chief chaplain and war council member to the besieging forces, was nonplussed.

“My goddess, I know nothing about children,” she confessed. “I joined the cult to avoid being married off as a tool for my family’s ambitions, though of course I stayed for all the right reasons,” she added, hastily. “It would be an honour to care for your divine child, but I don’t know how...” she regarded the child on her bed with misgivings; the baby appeared to be a few months old.

“Get some peasant woman to see the feeding her and cleaning up after her and teaching her to control bladder and bowel,” said Selen. “As to the rest, you can slap her or pinch her or do as you like, train her to be angry and let loose her powers. My heroine is bringing cold weather supplies and a replacement garrison, and you can hand Chionea over to Thea Drex when she comes.”

“She is no true noble, my lady,” said Allenna.

“Why would I care about the petty divisions you mortals make amongst yourselves?” said Selen. “It is a means of controlling those outside of my priests, and those of my minions who consider themselves to be important for their petty names. I care about real power, and you are one of my powerful priestesses. Bring her up unhappy and angry and snowing on the enemy.”

“Ah, I understand,” said Allenna. “The child is a tool.”

 

oOoOo

 

The trógling miners were glad to get underground out of a bitter wind which felt as if it carried spite and anger with it.  They used cantrips as props on their journey, and gently undid them as they returned. Kaz, less skilled, watched, and felt a hit of power and sudden burst of prayer from one of the four miners, who had been too close to the prop he had just removed, and was buried. Without thinking, Kaz pulled her body after her spirit into the shade of the tunnel to reach him, her spirit passing through the fallen earth. She exerted her will on the earth to push it away, and picked up her semi-conscious worshiper to carry his body as well as hers to safety, calling for a healer.

 

oOoOo

 

“There is a new god, near my daughter!” cried Selen. “I must guard... no, the presence is gone from the confines of my temple.”

“Did you imagine it, or was it the powers of your own daughter?” asked Daze.

“Oh! Yes, that may be it, a spike of power as she grows,” said Selen.

 

oOoOo

 

“Eh, Kaz, what did you just do?” asked Protasion, as the trógling, one Zarn, was rushed to the Halls of Healing, protesting that he was fine, now.

“I’m not quite sure,” said Kaz. “Someone who gives me power needed me and I had to be there so I sort of was. I think if I tried to analyse too hard how I did it, I wouldn’t be able to.”

“Happy apotheosis, your goddness,” grinned Protasion.

Kaz poked him.

There was a chime.

“Why not when it happened?” said Kaz, puzzled.

“You had to accept it?” said Protasion. “Oh, there it goes again. Your mother-in-law is an enthusiast.”

“I love her, though, for twisting my curse to let me be with Alethos, even if we do have to wait,” said Kaz.

 

oOoOo

 

In the Selenite camp, a priest of Librax named Fordus Arnth went glassy-eyed.

“Behold! A new goddess is born, and it shall mark the beginning of the end!” he intoned, then shook his head. “Did I just say something?”

“You said that a new goddess is born, and that it marks the beginning of the end,” said Allenna. “You meant Chionea, of course?”

“Who?” said Arnth.

“Our goddess’s daughter, you dolt!” said Allenna. “You meant that she has come enough into her powers to make winter come this far south, didn’t you?”

“Oh, if you say so, high priestess,” said Arnth. “I thought it was something to do with shadow, and... but that’s ridiculous, too small and weak.”

“She’s growing all the time,” said Allenna, who found it unnerving. “And she will cast a shadow of snow clouds over the sun.”

 

In the temple to Solos, Erytheon Sun-Toucher stiffened.

“Behold! A new goddess is born, and it shall mark the beginning of the end!” he intoned. “Did someone write that down?”

“Yes, sir,” said the lay-member assigned as his guide. “‘Behold, a new goddess is born, and it shall mark the beginning of the end’ is what you said.”

“Remarkable,” said Erytheon. “We live in interesting times.”

“What... what does it mean?” asked the youth, one Epiphio.

A smile touched the lips of his tutor.

“It means we have a chance of winning, my boy,” said Erytheon. Erytheon loved his god dearly but he had also started worshipping Fate. And she sometimes gave him more insights even than those he had for himself. And Erytheon could see further with his blind eyes than many keen-sighted people could see. And it may be said, further than his own god, who was bound to his own path. Erytheon blinked rapidly.

“Behold, the child of winter must receive love to melt the snow,” he added.

He let the boy write it down, without mentioning that he remembered that one, as it came from a direct communication from his new goddess. She was cheating again, even as she had suggested that he make his interpretation of prophecy sound like a prophecy when he had been privileged to meet the Daykaz.

Erytheon had never had so much fun in his long life.

 

oOoOo

 

It rarely snowed as far south as Mesolimnos, but the snow clouds piled up and the wind wailed and howled, like the voice of an unhappy child.

“This isn’t natural,” said Harkon. “This is more like the weather I grew up with.”

“Then teach us to handle it, and to live with it, not fight it,” said Pythas.

“The wolves will be invaluable,” said Harkon. “They helped us rescue trógling in the snow. We need to take wheels off carts and put runners on, as sleds, and inscribe warming runes inside those used for people, and to make sure everyone knows how to ritually soak thread in their own blood and sew a warming rune into their clothing. It will last many days, maybe weeks, where a warmth spell lasts an hour, or at best, with the highest level, twelve hours.”

“Movement glyph on the hearth will move the warm air about a room,” said Kaz. “But it really needs to be laid by the priest of a wind cult.”

“We can see to that in the Halls of Healing, and the Warming House which has been set up in the former temple to Selen,” said Pythas. “I am sure the Windies... uh, the Knights of the Clear Starlight... will be happy to further desecrate her temple.”

“What is a problem is that it will now be hard to go and fire the steppe,” said Harkon. “Unless you have any tips for flying in this muck, love?” he appealed to his wife.

“If you’re confident to do it without me, then use the hero path between temples, and go to the temple you set up, dear,” said Thyella.

“Of course,” said Harkon. “You won’t come?”

“Matter of courtesy between gods,” said Thyella. “Because it isn’t an emergency to bargain for.”

“Of course; one cannot break protocol,” nodded Harkon. He shivered. “I swear I can hear a child wailing in that wind.”

“It sounds like kin of mine,” said Thyella, worried. “I don’t know why I feel that, but I do.”

“Erytheon pronounced that the child of winter had to be loved,” said Pythas. “He said something about it being his path to take as he was now expendable.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” said Kaz.

“I didn’t, either,” said Pythas.

 

oOoOo

 

“I need you to write a letter for me, and guide my hand to sign it,” said Erytheon to Epiphio. “Address it to Pythas, Lord and Priest and Commandant of Alethos, and give him formal greeting.”

“Pythas, sir? Not Lord Chrysandion?”

“Pythas. Chrysandion will not know to whom to show it. Now, say that I am of sound mind, and full of years, and it is my will that all my possessions should, in the case of my death, go to Epiphio, my guide and apprentice, and that it is my desire that Epiphio should not seek to be a Sun-Seer; and that it is my orders that Epiphio should not follow me on my path of destiny.  Say that I must prepare the child of winter for godparents, and that I will be going at the time Lady Fate deems best to be a diversion for her main tool, the Daykaz.  Write, Pythas, old friend, if all goes well, I will aid your young charge, and for my reward will spend an eternity shagging three women in one. And put it like that; he’s a soldier.” He paused as the youth’s pen stopped writing. “Don’t hesitate, you don’t need to understand. Pythas may explain it if he feels like it. But I want this in order, and I need it written out fair, with a lawyer to stand beside you and read it out for me to sign, before the time comes. Write also, Lightning strikes best at the heart of winter.”

There was a gulp from the boy, and the Sun-Seer reached out to cup the lad’s face in his gentle hands, and place a kiss on his forehead.

“Why must it be you?” asked Epiphio, through tears. “You have been a father to me.”

“It must be me, because I only have one prophecy left to give, and it must be given to the right person at the right time, and in the right place,” said Erytheon, gently. “I go willingly to lay aside my earthly flesh to help save us all. I am now no further use to the temple and as such can do my duty one last time.”

“But I do not want to lose you!”

“You will not,” said Erytheon. “You will leave this temple if, or when, it becomes apparent that I am not coming back, and take refuge with Pythas. He will take care of you whilst you learn about Moraia, Fate herself. She will teach you how to unravel prophecies past and present, and you will write a master work about the prophecies of the age of the blood moon and its destruction.”

“I... I do not know enough! Do not leave me!” the boy panicked.

“A part of me will be with you always,” said Erytheon. “You are as a son to me. Go and write it out neatly, and get me a lawyer. Then I will be ready. And in the month or so before I have to leave, I promise, I will spend time with you.” He smiled. “I have always known I have a destiny, but I have never known what. And now I do know, it is as if a great weight has been lifted from me. I am at peace as I have never been.”

“There is an odd light in your face, sir,” ventured Epiphio.

“It is the light of truth,” said Erytheon.

 

oOoOo

 

Pythas read the letter brought by the weeping boy, notarised by an attorney at law of Polos, and called in those who were involved.

“It is one of my kindred, then,” said Thyella.

“I do not want anyone to die just to make my task easier,” said Kaz, distressed.

“I fancy he has reason to believe that his sacrifice will make your task possible,” said Pythas. “And then he gets to be your father-in-law.”

“He will leave glyphs for me; I am sure of it,” said Thyella. “A diversion indeed. Harkon, you will accept this child as ours?”

“If any chaos taint can be removed by Alethos,” said Harkon. “Or I fear it will start over again.”

“This, I agree,” said Thyella. “I fear that the ice spirit with whom my brother was so enamoured was tainted; or Selen herself, in disguise.”

“We have time to prepare and plan for this,” said Harkon. “And my first job is to make the relieving force miserable, and delay them, so that we have no heroine of the cult here before the solstice.”     

“Timing is everything,” said Pythas.