A Darkness Forged in Fire

TWENTY-SIX

T here's a small village to the north of us on the Olopol River," Konowa said, holding out the folded map for the Prince to take a look.

They were riding at the head of the regiment as it marched across the plain. Konowa had lost count of just how many days they'd been on the move, but it felt like an eternity, and still, it showed no sign of ending. As far as the human, elfkynan, dwarf, or elf eye could see, the plain shimmered with green heat above vines bulging with hidden terrors.

The Prince let his mount's reins drape around its neck and used both hands to push back the shako on his head, revealing a clear line between the pale white skin of his forehead and the now-most-unroyal ruddy complexion of his face. The areas under the arms of his silver-green coatee were black with sweat, and he was constantly fidgeting on his saddle, now denuded of its fur covering. Konowa knew, in fact, that the Prince had developed a rather virulent heat rash, a tale Rallie had enjoyed sharing with him the night before.

Hope it rubs you right raw, Konowa thought, careful to keep his face neutral as he leaned over a little more with the map.

"What? Oh, yes, fine. Can we make it there by nightfall?" the Prince asked, not even bothering to look at the map.

Zwindarra snapped his head around at the map and Konowa cuffed him on the ears. The horses and brindos had grown testy, reacting to the heat and the stress as badly as the troops. The muraphants, on the other hand, had become so lethargic that it took a musket with a blank charge fired at their hindquarters to get them up and moving.

Not even the piece of mountain pressed against Konowa's chest seemed immune. It had been days since he felt even a twinge of cold emanate from the pouch, and he was starting to wonder if he had somehow exhausted its power.

"If we push on through the afternoon I think so," Konowa said, deciding then and there it was better to risk a few more cases of heatstroke than to stay out on the plain another day…and night.

There had been no further faeraug attacks, but the temporary camps they set up each afternoon to avoid marching in the heat of the day had been anything but relaxed. The strain, both mental and physical, was taking its toll. The troops grew more sullen and quarrelsome with each mile. Fights broke out over dirty looks. Two more floggings were ordered by the Prince in a fit of pique, and no matter what Konowa said, he would not be talked out of it. The act, predictably, bred even more resentment and tension and created a growing cadre with an ax to grind, spurred on, he knew, by Kritton.

"Very good, Major, we'll press on," the Prince said, sitting up straighter in his saddle.

He made it sound as if it was his own idea, nodding as if the world was in complete agreement with everything that tumbled from his lips. Konowa reasoned that a person brought up to be King probably came to believe that everything was his own idea, even when it was spoon-fed to him.

"They have some very talented weavers in this part of the world, did you know?" the Prince said, turning about in his saddle to look around them and back at the regiment snaked out in their wake.

"Weavers, Colonel?" Konowa asked, wondering if this was the nit's attempt at small talk.

"Weavers, Major, spinners of yarn, makers of cloth. Elfkynan embroideries are famous the world over, and quite prized among the finer households in the capital."

"I can't say as I've seen any, sir," he said truthfully. Zwindarra started as a butterfly flew up from a vine in front of his face. "Bloody idiot," he said, then turned and saw the Prince's eyes narrowing. "Oh, the horse, sir, scared of his own shadow. You were telling me about the embroideries…"

The Prince relaxed visibly in the saddle and pulled a hanky from the end of a sleeve, dabbing his brow with it. Konowa got a whiff of perfume and bent forward to adjust a stirrup, taking in a deep breath of the gelding's musky scent to counter the cloying smell.

"I think it's their delicate features, especially their fingers," the Prince said, clearly warming to his subject. He held the hanky in one hand and moved the fingers of the other over it as if playing the piano. "Marvelous dexterity. Tens upon tens of thousands of stitches in some of the larger ones. I've heard rumor that they employ a certain form of magic to make them as ornate as they do. What do you think?"

Konowa looked at the Prince, surprised. "About what, sir?"

The Prince gave an annoyed flick of his head. "The stitching. Do you think they use magic?"

Maybe the heat's frying what part of a brain he's got, Konowa thought. "I really don't know, sir, but I suppose they might, though it seems a bit of a waste, if you ask me. I'd think they'd want to use magic for something more useful."

The Prince tut-tutted him. "You must keep in mind, Major, that we are dealing with a simple people here. The elfkynan aren't as evolved as us humans, or even you Hynta-elves, for that matter."

Zwindarra neighed and stamped a hoof, and Konowa unclenched his fists and let the reins slide through his fingers until the horse's head was back at a more comfortable position. "Very kind of His Highness to say."

The Prince waved away the compliment, completely oblivious to the sarcasm. "It's true." He suddenly leaned over in his saddle, looking furtively around them like a child with a big secret. "They are a simple, earthy folk, swayed by beliefs in things they cannot see. They don't think like we do, Major, which is why the Empire is here. They need us. They need our guiding hand to become civilized. The Star of Sillra is the perfect example. I've studied the origin of the Stars for years, you know, talked with the finest scholars and wizards on the subject, including your father, I might add," he said, still casting around to see if they were in danger of being overheard.

"My father never mentioned it," Konowa said flatly. Wizards, royalty, and their intrigues. Ideas born in the flickering shadows of midnight candles and snifters of brandy that invariably sent soldiers like him tramping through some gods'-forsaken land in search of what only the mages and their patrons knew. This time, he knew the what-at least, he thought he did. He looked at the Prince's eager face and felt the cold sharp bite of the stone beneath his uniform.

"Absentminded, the lot of them," the Prince continued, rolling his eyes with a patronizing shake of his head. "But the Stars are real, rest assured. And yet, the elfkynan do not see the Star's real purpose. They think of nothing more than to use it to rid themselves of the Empire, ignorant of the irony! They themselves call the Stars sources of knowledge, yet would use it as no more than a bludgeon." He spurred his horse a little closer to Konowa's. "On the other hand, your father and the other wizards I've spoken to all believe we should claim the Star so that we might use its power against the Shadow Monarch. Again, only seeing it as a weapon, however much more sophisticated their use of it might be."

Konowa couldn't hide his surprise. "You have other ideas?"

The Prince tapped his nose with his free hand. "I do, but it's been difficult to get Her Majesty to understand. This new Viceroy has convinced her and many in her court that the Stars are weapons," he said. His mouth was puckered as if he had just swallowed something sour.

Konowa took the opening before his better judgment could stop him. "Aren't they?"

The Prince was upright in his saddle and looking around as if wanting to strike something. "Untold mysteries lie buried throughout the world, waiting only for a man of vision and destiny to find them. The Empire has a duty to procure the artifacts of time and power and preserve them, to mine them for their secrets, not to destroy them out of hand or turn them into swords to be wielded by simple-minded generals."

The spell dropped, the pieces suddenly falling into place. Konowa looked at the Prince with newfound loathing. "You wish to collect this Star for a museum?"

The Prince turned his face to the sun, and for a moment appeared to glow in his own magnificence. "Not just a museum, Major, a temple of knowledge! Can you not see it? A great hall of learning where scholars, alchemists, wizards, artists, and more would come together to study and share their ideas."

"A school, then," Konowa said, fighting back the bile creeping up his throat.

"Precisely! The Queen's advisors hold ever-increasing sway in Her court, and all fear the coming changes. They would simply eradicate every amulet and potion that is of a design they do not understand! Ruwl and the Imperial Army see only weapons that must be harnessed to the Empire's carriage. I favor the witches and wizards more, even though they covet the magic as a drunk does his mead. They are a miserly bunch when it comes to sharing their knowledge, but with the proper encouragement, I will see to it that the world is brought into the light."

"Perhaps they have reason to keep their secrets?"

The Prince shook his head even as he settled back into the saddle and took a deep breath. "Their days of shadowy dealings are coming to an end. When we find the Star, we will have begun the birth of a new age."

"What about the Shadow Monarch, and the extinct creatures coming back?" Konowa asked, marveling at the Prince's ego as he did so.

"Of little importance, really," he said, turning to Konowa and gracing him with a pitying smile. "You, and everyone else for that matter, think we're out here to crush a rebellion and banish the Shadow Monarch to her High Forest. No. The finding of the Eastern Star is nothing less than the coming of a new age of enlightenment. Imagine, Major, a world where men can study in peace and tranquility, guided by the greatest powers ever known. Now that is a worthy goal, one that will redeem you a thousand times over."

Konowa grabbed Zwindarra's mane in his hand to steady himself as he felt the blood drain from his face. "Are you serious?"

The Prince laughed-and it was the most frightening thing Konowa had heard since the trip across the plains began. "When we succeed, all of it will fall into place. You and the Iron Elves are going to help me create the greatest repository of knowledge and wisdom ever witnessed in the history of civilization. When we find the Star, we will use it to find the others. Even the Shadow Monarch will bow before me, Her power bent to my will as surely as I command this regiment. If not, then She shall be destroyed…although it would be a shame to lose Her wisdom. Do you not see, Major? Our quest is not for a single source of magic. Our quest is to have them all."