Primus PilumChapter 3
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Revandis guided Verus through the large structure. It was deceptively small on the outside, or so it seemed, forming the edge of a hillside. But the building ran in wide tiers down the hill, forming dozens of chambers and large open courtyards. They would pass elves in ones and twos as they moved down short corridors, or crossed a balcony. It was like a maze, but open, somehow.
Finally, they came to a large set of double doors, inset with ceramic plates, which were each shaped as a small bass relief sculpture. Each depicted a small scene of elves and men working together, and one, near the top, showed a man and elf standing side by side in arms.
The young elven girl looked at the enameled ceramic tiles. "The Lord Ambassador is very wise, and quite insightful of men's hearts," she said, her face once again reflecting a maturity which her youthful appearance belied.
Verus nodded and examined the various tiles, taking especial note of the one with men and elves joining in arms. "Let us hope he finds my heart not lacking," he said, smiling down at her.
The doors swung ponderously open, they were obviously quite heavy, by their thickness alone, even if not inset with massive slabs of tile work. In silence, they swung away, though, and admitted the pair into a darkened chamber, where the only visible light was the far end. A long table was there, spanning most of the width of the room.
The walls of the room were paneled in dark wood. Verus assumed it was arnthalon, for few other woods were nearly black. It made the great chamber seem small and stifling, forcing a person entering the room to focus upon that single illuminated table.
An elderly elf was sitting in the middle of the table. Verus had never seen an elf who was outwardly old. This wizened figure must be ancient, indeed. To either side of the smaller shape, but larger aura, were six figures. Seven were older men, like Verus himself. Two were aged women, though stern of face, just as the men, and advanced of years. One younger woman, in her early forties, and two more men, also younger than the rest.
Ghurian was one of the older rangers there, sitting directly to the right of the ancient Lord Ambassador. Verus also saw Rethas standing just behind Levathan, and a bit right, between the ambassador and Ghurian. The others he did not recognize, though he knew them instantly, or their sort.
Most of them were competent-looking officers, both the men and women. Thought he Abian legions did not allow females in their ranks, Verus was not a supporter of that policy, thinking that many women made fine warriors. He had faced enough on the field to have learned to respect female soldiers. The younger female officer, though, especially interested him. She was pretty, in a very stern sort of way, and her expression was far less hostile than most of the other's. She sat to Ghurian's right, and the old Centurion wondered if there was significance to that.
Revandis guided him into the chamber at a slow walk, letting him have time to size up his interrogators. Her little hand squeezed his as she held it, and she smiled up at him when he flicked his eyes down at her.
The ambassador spoke a word in elven and Revandis stopped. It is a formal greeting, she explained in his mind.
The elven girl then bowed, repeating the word and extended one leg. Her torso pressed to that leg, nearly folding her double. A simple normal human bow will suffice, she said into Verus' mind as his old body balked at trying to emulate that rather limber motion.
Verus bowed as low as his old bones would tolerate without creating a chorus of pops and snaps that would have been comical, but not quite appropriate for the solemnity of the event. He noted that there were twenty guards lining the darkened walls of the room, hugging the shadows, trying to be unobtrusive. Ten men and ten elves, near as he could tell from their heights. All were armed heavily, with spear, sword, and bow. These were no mere ceremonial guards.
If nothing else, they took Verus very seriously, as a possible threat, in any case. He supposed, given his reputation, he could not blame them. It was interesting, he thought for a moment, that despite his rather mediocre skills in personal combat, he was always assumed to be a master.
The ambassador rose from his ornate oaken chair and put both his hands upon the table before him, which was strewn with papers and a few books. "Primus Pilum Verus, you come before us applying for asylum?"
"I no longer use that title, Lord Ambassador, but yes, I seek asylum from the Abian Empire, for myself, my family, and a friend," said the old Abian.
There was a murmur among the officers, as they whispered curt words to one another. A few of the faces grew less stern, having now heard him speak. A few others, however, grew more suspicious of him, their eyes narrowing slightly.
"Do you intend to serve the people and needs of the Windy Isles, the nation that may offer such asylum?" asked Levathan.
Verus nodded, "I intend to do so, to the limits of my abilities," he said.
Another rumble of quick murmurs ran through the members of the High Command. Most of the faces had softened somewhat, excepting one. The man to the ambassador's immediate left. His face had now reddened, and Verus could tell he was chomping at the bit to loose his wroth upon Verus.
Revandis spoke again in his mind: That is commander Melakis, he is generally regarded as something of a firebrand among the High Command. He will seek to have you put to death.
Is his hate that consuming? Asked Verus in thought.
He felt the girl squeeze his hand slightly. His wife was transported as a slave to Abia. When scouts found her, she had been forced into a slave-brothel for over six months. The girls eyes were moist looking as she thought these words to Verus. She slew herself as soon as they freed her and got her on a ship for the Isles.
Rather than face her husband, thought Verus, his own eyes saddening, for the sake of the woman, and the husband that was wronged twice by her misuse.
"We, naturally, have a few questions, Verus, regarding this change of heart," said the ambassador, speaking carefully and referring to notes upon the table. "Will you answer them fully, and without equivocation?"
Verus nodded again, "I will," he replied.
"All indications are that you are a man of high honor, and your word is good," said Levathan. "I will take your word as fact, but some among us may protest that. Do you object to the continued use of the mental abilities of Revandis to maintain proof of your Veracity?"
"I don't mind," said Verus. "She's good company." He smiled down at the pretty elven girl standing beside him, with her tiny hand in his.
A small round of light chuckles and quite a few smiles moved through the assembled commanders. The face of Melakis reddened slightly more, and Verus realized he would be unable to sway this man, despite any action or word he might take. Blind hatred was now this man's bed partner, and he would brook no other lover.
One of the commanders to Ghurian's right stood up. "Why did you take command of the company in Rikken and lead them in a victorious battle against your own people?" he asked.
"They ceased being 'my' people when they leveraged my own grandchildren to force me, illegally, into performing the mission I was sent her upon," said Verus. "As far as why: I do not wish to die any more than anyone else, and leading the unit was the surest way I could see to continue not dying." A low murmur ran through them again, with many nods dispersed in the conversation.
Melakis rose and looked at Verus with hateful eyes. "You say you were there to aid them in a battle, by commanding them and guiding them," said the old officer. "What would you say to the fact that Rikken was overrun by Abian forces, not ten hours ago?"
"I would say, Commander Melakis, that it is a tragedy, and I hope as many as possible escaped and are on their way to safety," said Verus. Something in his mind had changed, and it took Verus a long moment to figure out what it was. Even when Revandis was passive, he cought random little flickers of thought from her. She was now trying to mask something from him, and those little thoughts were being obliterated by both the strength of the thought and her attempt at masking it. Then the realization hit him.
Oh, dear lord, your parents, thought Verus, his mind racing. He looked down at Revandis, with her lovely golden eyes filling with tears. She stared directly ahead of herself, her face now a mask of worry and pain.
"I regret to say," said Melakis, with far to little remorse in his voice, and far too much relish, "that few escaped. It seems that they found a weak point in the defenses and exploited it before an effective response could be organized. We only got word of the city falling by courier, we have no subsequent reports, yet."
Verus thought furiously for something else to think about, but his mind kept wandering to Revandis' parents, though he had never met them. Tears were streaming down the young elf's face, though she stood stoically by his side.
"I believe you might have been more circumspect in the revelation of that information," said the younger female officer, sitting next to Ghurian. She leaned forward and cast her eyes toward Melakis. "You know, as well as the rest of us, that Revandis' parents are in Rikken."
Melakis looked a tiny bit taken aback by her words, but soon his hostility reasserted itself. "You will excuse me if I forget a girl's emotions for a moment when faced with deceit," he said.
There was another round of the murmuring that seemed to form the consensus under which the command of the Windy Islanders operated. Verus was frankly amazed that they held the nation together, ruling by committee, much less mounted a defense that was tying up three entire legions. A smile cracked on Revandis' face as this thought went through his head and she read it. Even we elves understand that only one can lead in time of war, she thought in reply, and we are a strategically inept folk, when compared with you humans.
"Melakis is correct," said another of the commanders, one of the younger males. "How do we know that Verus did not gather information and betray us to the Abians after the supposed victory?"
Revandis stepped forward, dropping Verus' hand and standing before the long table. "Because I have told you that he did not, because I vouch for his honesty," she said. "I, more than anyone in this chamber, would turn on him, in an instant, if I even suspected that he did such a thing." She looked down the long line of officers, her golden eyes lingering on each a brief moment. "Of anyone in this room, I am the most aggrieved party, and the one most deserving of justice."
The elven commander had been preparing to silence the girl with a word, but the Lord Ambassador stayed him with a slight motion of his hand, raising two fingers. "Your little committee of twelve is fine and democratic, and we elves toyed with such a thing in the past," she said, her soprano voice gaining power as her confidence in her words and their hearing of them grew. "Democracy is a poor bedfellow for war. War calls for harsh choices and clear decisions." She turned those frightfully intelligent eyes upon Commander Melakis. "Vengeance is also a unseemly mate, is she not?" she asked, rhetorically. "Do we always seek one-for-one redress of each loss in battle?" The faces of the various commanders were moving through mixed emotional and thoughtful states as the girl spoke.
"If you wish to kill Verus, then get on with it, charge him with spying and be done," she said. "If not, then utilize his talents and win a war for yourselves." She held up a small hand to the audience of fourteen. "But with this man, I fear you will not have your sought-after victories by half measures. He does not partake of half measures. Some of the wine he offers will be bitter, indeed, and some among you may not have a stomach for such fare."
Revandis walked up to Verus and once again put her tiny hand into his. "I say I trust him, and I say that anyone who does not is either blind or a fool. If the former, then open your eyes to the truth. If the latter, then step aside and let the wise make decisions."
Melakis' eyes widened, and a deep crimson rose into his face. However, whatever rant he seemed about to rain down upon Verus and Revandis was cut short by the words of the Lord Ambassador.
"I am but an advisor," he said. This was technically true, Verus thought, but patently a lie, "and I say we have much, now to discuss about this resource we find in our possession." He held out a wrinkled, slender hand. "You have the list I asked for, of your family members?"
Verus stepped forward and handed the folded parchment to the old elf. The elf took it and peered at the long list of names. "Revandis' penmanship is quite good, don't you think?" he asked with a gleam in his eyes.
"She is a wonder, Lord Ambassador," replied verus, meaning it fully. He and the ambassador understood one another, even if no one else did.
There was much talk around the table, and several of the commanders were rising to walk to others and speak quietly. "We have much to debate, I think, Verus," said Levathan. The old elf turned to Revandis. "Please show him to his quarters and then go to your own, dear, this has been a day of sore trials for all."
Revandis nodded. "Yes, Lord Ambassador," she said. She then guided Verus out of the chamber, and the massive doors cut off the rising level of the debate within. They would be long hours discussing this matter, he felt sure.
They walked out onto one of the balconies that overlooked the other terraces of the strange, step-like building. "That was impressive, what you did in there," said Verus.
The girl smiled out into the open air. "Not very, really," she said, then turned her eyes toward his. "I cheated."
Verus thought for a moment. "How can you cheat in such a thing?" he asked.
A smile played on her lips, and a blush rose to her cheeks. The glanced up at him, then turned her eyes away. "I used some skills of yours to make the speech. In a way, I made you think of what I needed to say, then used your ability to command to say it."
"And you did so without me being able to tell you were doing it?" asked Verus, impressed immensely.
She shrugged. "It is not difficult, you, yourself often separate parts of your mind to clear your thoughts of extraneous things, or to shield off a part of thoughts while other parts continue," explained Revandis. "I simply utilized the mechanisms that were already there to do what I thought needed to be done."
He squeezed her little hand gently. "You did very well," said Verus. "You are an amazingly clever little girl — young woman," he amended.
She flashed a brilliant smile up at him. I WISH I were a woman, the deeper-voiced version of her thoughts said into his mind. A brief flash of skin on skin went through his skull, only to be blasted apart by Revandis' other thoughts, as she fought to regain control of herself.
Verus pulled his hand gently away from hers and stepped back a pace. "Perhaps it's time to sever this link," he suggested. "At least for now."
She nodded miserably. "I think it best as well," she said. "Can we walk to the main compound first, though? I can control my thoughts so long."
He nodded and she once again took his hand. They walked through the complicated building, rising a flight of stairs here, and crossing an open catwalk there. Finally, though, they reached the main compound, and were walking across the main courtyard, near her bush, in fact. He could smell the cloying scent of the plant as they walked toward it.
Verus noted an increase, or change in Revandis' scent as well, it mixed with the bush's, creating a new, subtle odor. The Niliwander ambassador had chosen a complementary scent well. He felt a momentary twinge of something feral move through him, something which must not be given in to, but which was undeniably there. Then it was gone.
Revandis smiled up at him. That will suffice me, she thought into his head. Then he felt her moving out, long tendrils of her thoughts and senses pulled from around his, and she slipped out of his mind like a breeze. As his mind expanded to fill the void she left, he felt a stark sense of loneliness in his own mind, a new experience for him.
She continued to hold his hand, and they walked past the bush, then toward a door. "This is your chamber, Verus," she said, her eyes glinting in the failing light of the late afternoon. "I will see you on the morrow?" she asked.
"I often break fast at dawn," said Verus. "Assuming I can find the dining hall."
She smiled. "I, too, rise early. I will collect you and be your guide for the morning meal," she said. The amazing formality of her speech struck him, but she still had that gleam in her young eyes. He now wondered immensely what thoughts were buried there, under that molten gold.
She turned and walked away from him, then around the corner of the stone-covered building. He entered his chamber, and sat upon the chair, where Ghurian had sat before, sharpening his sword.
A weariness descended upon him and he felt his many years deeply. He had not realized how much his mood had been buoyed by the contact with the young girl. He now understood better many men's desires to take a younger woman as a lover. They were seeking that support, though the only means their minds could divine.
A gentle knock from his door in the morning, as he slipped on his tunic. Revandis' gentle voice came through the wood. "Good morrow, Verus," she said.
He smiled and rose from the chair, and opened the door for her. She stepped in, smiling, and carrying his gear, which he had worn from Pigwillow. "They trust me with a sword?" he asked.
"They trust it will avail you not to try to use it," she said, grinning. "Most of them trust you, insofar as they can," she said. "Your former reputation as an honorable man has served you well."
Verus nodded. "I hoped it would help at some point to not be a scoundrel," he murmured. "Scoundrelling seems much more fun than being circumspect."
She giggled at him. "Scoundrelling?" she asked. "Is that truly a word?"
Putting on his boots, and only strapping on the sword, Verus shook his head. "Not really, no," he said. "But it's a true occupation, by some folk," he added.
Revandis nodded. "I see," she said, as she held open the door. "Let us go break fast, I am hungry."
They did not hold hands this time as they crossed the yard, and Verus was slightly disappointed by this. As they walked near the plant, he noted the scent again, and even the mixture of the plant and Revandis. It did not repeat its odd effect on him again.
There were quite a few elves in the dining hall, this morning, and not a few humans among them. Taking up several fruits, a few biscuits, and a boiled egg. They found a recently-vacated table and took seats. Almost immediately, Revandis was inflicting grievous damage upon the foodstuffs upon her platter, an activity that raised several nearby eyebrows, and not a few corners of mouths, as well.
Verus ate more reservedly, wondering what this day would bring, by way of news, and decisions by folk both important and trivial.
"Refugees from Rikken are arriving," Revandis said quietly, her eyes down upon her platter of food. She was eating slowly, something Verus knew surely foretold of ill. "No one bears word of my mother or father."
Verus sighed. "You fear for them?" he said.
The elven girl nodded. "Greatly, Verus, they are not soldiers, though all elves know the rudiments of fighting." She looked out the open archway onto the lawn of the courtyard. "They should not have been so close to the front lines of the war."
Verus nodded at that, thinking it as she said it. "War is no place for gentle hearts."
She giggled at that. "My mother and father are that, for certain," she said. "Though my mother can be quite sturdy when called for. She has headed our clan for almost eighty years."
"I wish I knew them," said Verus, honestly. "To have reared you, they must have been fine folk."
She smiled again. "Are you certain there is no elven blood in you. You speak very cleverly, complimenting them and me in one turn of the phrase."
An aide walked up to Revandis, speaking quietly. Her face took on a look of shock, then she rose. "News of my mother," she said, following the aide out the door and into the courtyard. Verus trailed after her, worry lining his aged face.
There was a tight knot of elven folk gathered around one who was speaking, he was bloody and muddied, obviously fresh from action in combat. A horse, in much the same state, stood nearby, its coat covered in the froth of sweat and breathing heavily.
He was speaking rapidly in elven and Revandis stood near enough to hear. Automatically, her small hand went out and took Verus' again. She began translating for him, rather in a dead and unfeeling tone of voice.
"He was with the rear guard, trying to get as many of the civilians out as they could," she said. "The Abians beset them in sudden attack. Streaming in from the west, where the woods came closest to the Pallisades. By the time an effective defense could be mounted, the gates were breaking."
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