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The Butterfly Sorceress, a serial novel

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Jimor:
Chapter 1, Part 2


"I've never seen so many people before."  From her perch on the wagon’s bench,
Belsira gawked at the crowds and wrinkled her nose at the faint stench of the
streets.

"There are nearly twenty thousand living in Latham, Bel.  Just remember to
maintain control and mind yourself.  You shouldn't have any trouble."  Hylian,
Belsira's mentor and guardian these past nine years, never lost a chance to
caution Belsira to restrain her talent around others.  Of all the things that
had changed between them over time, this was no different than when Belsira was
eight and freshly charged to Hylian's care.

"I can feel them, but it's such a jumble of different emotions, I don't even
know if I could draw on them."  Belsira felt a growing unease, vague and
undefinable within her mind.  Perhaps it was all the curious nervousness
directed toward them by the people in the streets.  As much as Belsira stared at
her surroundings, she was stared at in return.

Of course, with their wagon surrounded by seven royal guards, that was to be
expected.

"That's because you have no experience with crowds this large, no practice."
Hylian cautioned her.  "Don't go trying anything here, though, you'll get more
than you'll ever want in the days ahead."

Enough truth to that.  When the King's guards had arrived at Hylian's remote
cabin with the decree, Belsira could hardly believe it.  But Hylian had simply
nodded to the captain, then told Bel to pack for a lengthy journey.  They had
been drafted into the Legion.

Belsira's first reaction was to laugh.  She was hardly more than a child, and
Hylian was easily old enough to be her grandmother.  Why would the Legion want
them, what good could they do?

When she remembered their talent, she stopped laughing.

A long week later, they were down from the hills and into the wide plain that
was the heart of Mardya. And now she was amid the bustle of people and
activities that Belsira had never imagined.  As they passed through the market,
she saw goods carts, shops, sellers, buyers, rich men and beggars.

The buildings were much more varied and elaborate than she was used to as well.
Nearly every one was two or three stories, and they crowded up against the
streets so much that Belsira wondered how Hylian could navigate her little wagon
through the crowds without running anybody over.  It appeared the pedestrians
were used to it, though, because they always scurried out of the way just in
time as Hylian plowed ahead.

"Have you been to the city often, Hyl?"

"Often enough to know my way around, and often enough to know I don't like it here."

Bel nodded her understanding.  She continued to study the crowds, and
particularly anybody who wandered closely enough for her to read their
individual aura.  Most had the pale green of anxiety about them as an undertone
to whatever conscious emotion they held, whether it was happiness at a friend's
company, or anger at coming out on the wrong side of a bargain.

Even with the heavy atmosphere, Bel found it difficult to not be excited about
the prospect of visiting this extraordinary city.  Her home town of Aberly would
get lost in a small corner of Letham.  Even Crossley near where she lived had
nothing to prepare her for the scale of even the outskirts of the capital.

She fingered her worry stone, but hadn't needed it yet, despite the flood of
emotions assaulting her special senses, so she swallowed her own anxiety and
enjoyed the sights as they wound their way through the complicated streets and
intersections.

Finally, they came upon a head-tall wall extending in both direction with an
ironwork fence on top.  From up on the wagon, Belsira could see over the top and
into the beautifully tended gardens inside.  Dominating the landscape was a
three-story building on a rise inside the compound.  Bright white stonework
gleamed in the sun, and even from outside, she could detect the intricate
details carved into the facade.  This was clearly the palace.

As they traveled along the street bordering the wall, Belsira also noticed many
other lower buildings spread among the garden.  These were probably the various
government buildings that Hylian had told her about.  They would have to
register in one of these she imagined.

The guards turned into a nook set into the wall and Hylian followed them to the
large wood and iron gate.

"Lady Hylian and Lady Belsira to see King Hartan," announced the lead messenger.

Belsira nearly laughed at the title, nobody had ever called her that before, but
Hylian tensed and grew quiet as they passed through the gate.  Whatever they
were in for, there was no turning back now.

However, as they passed through the beauty of the garden, both of their spirits
lifted.  Hylian even pointed to some of the intricate formations of flowers
while Belsira took in the refreshing fragrance, such a relief after the dank
city streets.

They looped around the palace to the stable in back.  Hylian made sure that
Ginny was settled in her stall with an extra helping of grain, then they
followed the lead messenger, Ventan, to the palace proper.  They entered through
a nondescript door on the side.

"This is the guest wing," Ventan said as he led them along the corridor.  "And
here's your suite.  You will have a chance to freshen up before meeting with
King Hartan and the general staff after dinner.  You will dine at the main table
as a guest of His Majesty.  At five bells, just go to the end of the corridor
here and ask the steward on duty for directions."

"Thank you, Ventan.  It's been a long time since I've been here last.  Is Samiel
available?  I'd like to talk with him if possible."

"I'll go see, Lady."  As he left, several servants came in with their
belongings.  They hadn't brought much in the first place, and considering the
expansive quarters they were given, it all seemed a mere pittance.

"This is all so beautiful," Belsira exclaimed when they were finally alone in
their room.

"Enjoy it while you can, I have no idea how long we'll be here."  Hylian went
directly to the wash room to strip her trail-dirtied clothing and put on fresh.

Belsira looked down at her own filthy blouse and pants.  Dinner with the King!
She rushed over to her old green case and carefully pulled out her blue dress.
She laid it out on the bed and used a bit of talent and excitement to smooth out
the wrinkles with her hand.  She had only worn it a handful of times since she
made it three years ago, the last occasion over a year ago.

After Hylian finished, Belsira took her turn in the wash room, scrubbing away
the dust and sweat.  She felt much better when she put the dress on.
Fortunately, she hadn't grown much since then, but it was still snug here and there.

When she looked in the full-length mirror, she was shocked at how pleased she
was with the sight.  The enhanced-blue fabric of the dress brought out her blue
eyes and contrasted nicely with the straight blond hair falling across her
shoulders.  Not too bad, even if she thought so herself.

She didn't have any fancy shoes, though, so she just put on her newer pair of
boots and brushed them clean.  She also decided to tie her hair back with a
ribbon of the same blue as her dress.

Hylian came out of her room wearing her yellow blouse and long, light tan skirt.
Her long silver hair braided down her back.  "I hope King Hartan will forgive
the simplicity of an old woman."

"Nonsense, Hyl, you look wonderful.  Besides, we didn't exactly have time to
make or buy clothes for the occasion."

"True.  Still, I feel out of place," she said as she gestured around the room.

"I know what you mean.  I'm afraid to touch anything for fear of getting it
dirty.  Who is Samiel?"

"He was my teacher way back when.  It's been years since I've seen him, not
since he took up the job as adviser to the King."

"Your teacher?  I suppose I've never thought of you as having needed a teacher."

"Oh yes.  He was a good one.  Needed to be with how stubborn I was at first."

"You?"

"Yes, I quite resented my talent, the way it changed my life.  I must have gone
through a worry-stone a day at first, I had so much anger inside.  Samiel never
became impatient, though, he just kept pushing my lessons on me while he waited
for my anger to burn itself out."

"I... I didn't know.  I can't imagine you angry."

"That's the control.  Fortunately, I've never really needed it with you.  You
never gave me cause for anger.  I did need patience, though, for very different
reasons.  I owe much of what I am to Samiel."

"As I do to you, Hyl.  I'm very glad you're my teacher."

"Me too, Bel."

They heard a polite knock on the door.

"Come," Hylian called.

The messenger entered.  "Samiel is free before dinner and would very much like
to see you, Lady Hylian."

"Thank you.  If you could just show me the way.  Bel, you'll have to find
something to keep yourself busy, perhaps a stroll through the gardens?  I'll see
you at dinner."

"That sounds nice.  Enjoy your visit."

Hylian left with the messenger and Belsira took a moment to enjoy the solitude
of the huge suite.  Everything was so shiny and bright compared to Hylian's
cabin.  It was also a bit sterile, which considering that nobody actually lived
here, just visited, was natural.

She felt overwhelmed.  A scant ten days ago, she had nothing more to concern her
than the weeds in the garden.  Now she was in the capital of all of Mardya as a
guest of King Hartan himself.

And all because of her talent.  Mixed blessing or mixed curse, she couldn't
decide. 

She still didn't understand exactly what good she could do in the war, when all
of the power at her disposal were barely helpful with the chores around the
cabin.  She find out after dinner if she heard correctly, however, so she might
as well enjoy the opportunity of being in the palace.

She opened the door, and found two guards standing in the hallway.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was just going to visit the garden.  Is it allowed?"

"Certainly, Lady.  We're assigned here for your protection, but we would gladly
escort you through the gardens.  They are quite beautiful."

"Thank you...?"

"My name is Neven, and this is Kell.  We're to stay with you until you arrive at
the main hall for dinner with King Hartan."

"Oh, for a second, I thought that, well..."

Neven blushed with embarrassment.  "No, no, Lady Belsira, it's nothing of the
sort.  I'm sorry if we gave you that impression.  I assure you, we're only her
to protect you, nothing more."

"Don't worry, I believe you, it's just that, well, you do know that I have wild
talent?"

"Yes, Lady.  Of course, that's why you're here and also why we're here to
protect you."

Well, that was more information than Belsira had before, so she let the subject
drop with a smile.  "Thank you.  Now, which way to the garden?"

Neven and Kell escorted her deeper into the palace, then through the massive
front hall out through the main entrance.  They exited underneath the white
marble archway supported by beautiful carved columns.  As she passed, Belsira
caught the intricate motifs wrapping around the columns.

In front of the palace, she saw the circular drive leading to the entrance.
Inside the circle was a small decorative pond surrounded by beds of bright red
flowers, though she couldn't tell what they were from this distance.

Neven recommended the path to the left, so she followed absentmindedly, enjoying
the sights.  Inside the geometric patterns carved by the winding paths, she
could see the different styles of the gardens.  Some were mixed flowers, others
were carefully sculpted into colored patterns, others were no more than expanses
of well manicured lawn.  Evenly spaced in about every third plot stood a lush
shade tree, always proportioned within the scale of the garden, and of course
the palace.  No matter how beautiful, Belsira could tell that all of this was
designed to highlight the King's home on the rise in the center of the huge
compound.

She took advantage of one of the many benches around the garden to sit and enjoy
the view.  Her guards remained standing, alert for what Belsira couldn't guess,
but she felt reassured just the same.

She twisted around to get a closer look at the flower bed behind her.  She could
see the rich loam between the gaps in the flowers, could see how they were
spaced and tended to keep them healthy and blooming with vigor.  Still, she saw
one little plant wilting in the sun, not filling its place in the arrangement.

She went around to bend down and examine it more closely.  She gently pulled the
flower from the soil, cradled the limp plant in her left hand and brushing away
the dirt with her right.  She took a couple of deep breaths, visualized her
action, then focused her happiness into the little plant.

Slowly, the stems and leaves stiffened with renewed strength, and moisture
filled the dry dead leaves and petals.  Within a matter of moments, the little
flower stood proud with its sisters, as full and healthy as any plant in the garden.

Then she stood up, she noticed Neven and Kell openly staring at her, jaws
dropped.  She smiled at their surprise, but her enthusiasm for the garden was
gone, used up to save the little flower, so she started walking back toward the
palace.  She knew she wasn't here to help the King's garden grow, and it was
time to find out exactly why.

Behind her, she heard the guards rush to catch up with her.

JD:
Very nice, especially since you're making this up as you go along.

Jimor:
Chapter 1, Part 3


Belsira hated waiting.  There was seldom time when she needed to wait, so she
just wasn't used to it.  She sat in a side room just off the main dining hall,
staring at the carved molding and fidgeting with her worry stone.

Here she was, about to meet the King himself, to eat at his table, and nobody
had bothered to show her how to act.  She hoped that her simple country manners
would be adequate and that Hartan might forgive an occasional gaffe.

She still wondered exactly why they needed her for this war.  The grim manner of
everybody on the palace grounds and the general aura of unease and fear both
here and in the city didn't bode well, and she wanted to help, but wasn't sure
how she could.  Neven and Kell wouldn't tell her, had closed up tight after she
had healed the flower.  In the press of the moment, she had forgotten how uneasy
most people were around wild talent.  Yet that was the reason for her summons to
the palace.

Finally, a steward came to escort her into the hall.  "Here is your place, Lady
Belsira," he said as he pulled a chair out for her at the midway point of the
long table, set for twenty people.  Only a few others were seated so far, and
the tall ornate chair at the head to Bel's left, obviously King Hartan's place,
was still empty.

Other guests began arriving through the four entrances around the hall.  An
older gentleman with his wife sat to her right, another man in uniform sat two
places from the King's chair opposite Belsira.

Then she saw Hylian enter.  She no longer wore her simple blouse and skirt, but
a beautiful silken gown of white.  Belsira had never seen Hyl look so lovely,
her tall frame elegantly outlined by the fitted dress.  Hylian came in on the
arm of a very old man, dressed in a simple tunic and trousers.  This must be
Samiel, Hylian's teacher.

Hylian sat directly opposite Belsira, and after helping Hyl take her place,
Samiel sat to Hyl's right.

Hylian smiled and glanced down at her fancy new dress.  "Samiel wouldn't let me
come unless I changed, so I borrowed this from the Minister's wife.  Bel, I'd
like you to meet Samiel, my teacher.  Samiel, this is Belsira."

Samiel's smile was warm and friendly.  "Pleased to meet you, young lady.
Hylian's been telling me all about you."

She blushed at that, but both were smiling, so Hylian must have been kind.
"Thank you, Sir.  I'm happy to meet you also."

Other people came in and took their places around the table, then settled into
small chat with their neighbors.  With the wide table, Belsira was too far away
to talk with Hyl, the only person she knew.  The man to her right was busy with
his wife, and the chair to her left remained empty.

But not for long.  A tall, muscular man in a uniform strode in through the
entrance behind Samiel.  Long black hair flowed down his shoulders, and a short,
gray-peppered beard hid half a scar running down from his left eye.

And those eyes -- black as coal -- scanning the room before he took another
step, searching, seeking, and finding Belsira.  His gaze nailed her to the back
of her chair, froze her own stare towards him.

Rigid with fear, not only because of his stare but because there was a mild but
unmistakable aura of anger around him that grew when he had looked at her,
meaning she for some reason was its cause.  He walked around the head of the
table and sat beside her.  She followed his every movement, afraid to let him
out of her sight.

Still watching her, he reached out his hand, and she nearly leapt out of her
seat.  "I am General Kirtok."

She took three quiet breaths to still her heart, then took his hand.  "I'm . . .
Belsira."

He nodded once, then turned away.

Bel lowered her gaze and fidgeted with the silverware.  She didn't want to look
at Hylian, didn't want to see that her teacher knew how scared she was, how
silly she was.  Fortunately, a reprieve came quickly in the form of the
steward's call for order.  Everybody settled into place and faced toward the
head of the table where he stood.

"Ladies and gentlemen."  Everybody stood, so Bel quickly rose also.  "May I
present King Hartan the Fourth of the Great Nation of Mardya and his son and
heir, Prince Rendell."

Two guards opened the pair of doors at the end of the hall, allowing the King
and his ten-year-old son to enter.

Hartan took his place at the head of the table, and his son sat to his left.
Once they settled, everybody else sat down again.

Then Samiel rose again and addressed the King.  "You Majesty, may I have the
pleasure of introducing to your table two new guests.  First, I give you Lady
Hylian of Crossley."

Hylian stood and bowed to the King.  "Your Majesty."

"And Lady Belsira, also of Crossley."  He gestured to Bel and she nearly knocked
her chair backwards in her rush to stand, but managed to slow the motion of her
bow in what she hoped was at least a little dignity.  "Your Majesty."

When she sat again she gave silent thanks to Samiel for introducing Hylian first
so she would know what to do.

"I want to thank you ladies for gracing my table with your beauty.  I hope my
hospitality is worthy."

Belsira had to smile at that, feeling much more at ease with his manner.  "Thank
you, Your Majesty."

She was still trying to control her blush when the servers brought the first
course.  She couldn't identify the soup, but she loved it.  Nobody talked much
during the meal, which suited her fine, she wouldn't know what to say to all of
these important people.  Samiel did try to engage her in conversation a couple
of times.  With a "What do you think of Latham?" here, or a "Did you enjoy the
garden?" there, but Bel could tell he was more interested in catching up with
Hylian, so she kept her answers short and went back to eating the wonderful meal
set before her.

Both the gentleman on her right -- she still didn't know his name -- and General
Kirtok on her left ignored her, but again, that didn't bother her.  In fact,
she'd rather not have to talk with Kirtok if she could help it, she didn't
particularly care to have him look at her like that again.

Soon enough, the blur of mealtime was over.  The King and his son left by the
doors they had come in, then the other guests began to leave out the other
doors.  General Kirtok and some of the other men in uniform followed Hartan,
however.  She looked to Hylian and Samiel for instructions.

"Do we go back to our room now?"

"Heavens no, child," responded Samiel.  "Didn't Hylian tell you what was going
to happen tonight?"

"No, Samiel, I haven't had the chance. Ventan mentioned the meeting, but I
wasn't sure whether he meant immediately after dinner or not," answered Hylian
before Belsira could say anything. "I'm sorry, Bel, there is a lot I haven't let
you know that I should have discussed during our trip, but I needed some answers
first myself."

"Well, time enough for that later," Samiel said as he headed for the King's
entrance.  "We'd better not keep Hartan waiting."

Belsira followed Samiel and Hylian into the hall behind the doors and down it
into a room off to the left.  King Hartan and the rest were there settling
around a table facing a large map of the land with all of the kingdoms of the
Western Continent shown.

Samiel directed them toward three chairs on the left end.

Hartan stood before the map and bowed toward Hylian
and Belsira.  "On behalf of the people of Mardya, I would like to thank you for
your assistance during this crisis.  Your service will of great help."

Hylian raised a hand to stop Hartan's speach.  "Pardon, Your Majesty, but I'm
afraid I haven't told Belsira any of the... details of our service, and I myself
am still fuzzy on many of the events, so if you could please start from the very
beginning and pardon our ignorance."

"Of course, Lady Hylian."  He turned to the map and pointed to the western tip
of the continent.

"Ever since Relath took control of Tarsem, then conquered Provene and Cathia,
we've watched for what he would do next.  Fortunately, it has taken him seven
years to consolidate his holdings before he could safely look further afield.

"In anticipation of this, I've forged alliances with Dorine and Thantum to the
north of Mardya, and Melwick and Sontara to the south.  And since we're in the
center and directly face Tarsem to the west, we've been preparing our military
for the possibility of war."

(cont. next post)

Jimor:
Chapter 1, Part 3 (continued (exceeded the post character count, this is by far the longest part, lots of exposition, I just hope I've made it interesting))


He turned to Hylian and Belsira.  "It appears that this war is upon us."  He
pointed to the western coast.  "Merchants have reported massive shipbuilding
projects along the north coast of Tarsem in the port of Helmas, along the
western coast of Provene, and in the southern ports of Cathia, especially on the
Isle of Carth.

"We thought Relath was preparing for attacks along the coast, to seize Dorine
and Melwick, to continue his expansion by surrounding Mardya, cutting us off
from the sea through our neighbors.  If successful, he could have moved next
against Thantum and Sontara.  Finally, we would be next, crushed from all sides."

Hartan moved away from the map.  "We were preparing to send reinforcements to
Dorine and Melwick, to stop Relath in his tracks.  Compared to our allied
kingdoms, he has half the population to draw on, little more than that in
resources.  It really should have been easy to halt his expansion, to even push
him back and perhaps liberate the people living under his brutal rule.

"However, two weeks ago, assassins simultaneously murdered every unprotected
person with wild talent in Mardya -- twenty-three at last count."

Belsira gasped in surprise and shock, but she could only see Hylian's grim
expression turn colder.  "But, why?" she asked Hartan and Hylian both.

"Because of something I haven't even begun to teach you, Bel.  Something I had
hoped would never be necessary.  There's a reason why people are uncomfortable
around those of us with wild talent.  Given the right circumstances, we can very
powerful, very destructive."

"But that's why you taught me to control it, so I wouldn't hurt anybody."
Belsira didn't like where this was going.

"And you learned well, child.  I trust your control as much as I trust my own.
This goes beyond control, though.  What we will be asked to do now is to no
longer place limits on our abilities, but to expand them, use them at entirely
new levels.  This still involves control, but control of vast forces."

Hylian faced Hartan again.  "How many are left?"

"Jolyle and Nimian were with their legions, unreachable by assassins.  The only
other one that they couldn't get was Samiel."

"And that's because I'm a King's adviser, Hyl.  The only reason you two are
still alive is because you never properly registered.  If I hadn't known where
you were hiding at, we wouldn't have been able to summon you here to help."

"That's the reason I never let anybody know where I was.  I only took Belsira as
a pupil as a favor to you, Samiel."

Hartan scowled at Samiel.  "You kept both of them secret from me?"

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty.  Hylian was my student, is my friend.  I never thought
there would be a need for them to formally register with the others."

"But there is a need now, Samiel."

"Yes, that is why I sent for them.  There's no doubt of it now."

Hylian interrupted.  "I might also point out that if we were on your list, we'd
probably also be dead."

Hartan considered that.  "Yes, I do suspect treachery within the palace, so
that's probably correct.  Besides, we must work now with what we have, not
concern ourselves with how we reached this position."

Belsira had been following the exchange in a daze, tilting her head back and
forth between all of these people talking about her but not to her.  She didn't
like it.  "But why is it this important that we're here.  What can we do?" she
demanded.

Everybody was taken back by her interruption and tone, not the least King
Hartan.  He glared at Hylian, though, not Belsira.

"Surely you're not that isolated up where you live.  Didn't you teach her about
the outside world?  Didn't you ever explain what was happening?"

Belsira saw the growing red aura of his anger around him, but when she looked at
Hylian, she saw the same cool demeanor that her teacher always displayed.
Hylian never averted her own stare from the King, returned it full bore.

"I taught Belsira geography, and I taught her the history of our land and all of
the kingdoms.  I never much cared for politics, so I never bored her with the
subject."

"Politics?" Hartan huffed.  "This isn't politics, this is survival."

"I know," Hylian replied quietly.  "That is why we are here.  I trust Samiel,
and if he thought it was important enough to reveal my whereabouts, then I
thought it was important enough to come.  He was right.  Now if you would kindly
tell us what we will have to do -- keeping in mind Belsira's lack of knowledge
through no fault of her own -- I'm sure we will both be glad to assist you."

Hartan continued to glare at Hylian, but the red faded to a dull glow that
Belsira could tolerate without cringing.  "Very well."

First of all, Relath understands the importance of wild talent to battle because
he is one himself.  That's largely how he gained his position and power in the
first place.  From what we understand about him, he also uses his abilities with
ruthless precision in his personal dealings with his underlings -- I'm sure you
understand how useful knowing the emotions of those around you can be."

Belsira nodded silently at that.  She tried not to take advantage of that window
into other peoples' minds, but it was just so easy to take a path of least
resistance when you knew somebody's emotions weren't matching their words.

He returned to the map and continued to address the room, although Bel could
tell that his explanations were meant for her.  Everybody else probably knew all
of this already.

"First of all, to enter a major battle without a talent is tantamount to
suicide.  That is why Relath murdered everybody that he could identify in Mardya
with talent.  I'm sure the same has happened in the other allied kingdoms, but
we're still awaiting word on how bad it may be.

"The reasons for all of this you will learn during your training, so I won't go
into that here."  For this he did look at Belsira.

"As said before, Jolyle was with the First Legion under General Ordron.  They
have been positioned on the border with Tarsem south of Flendon Marsh.  Nimian
is with the Second Legion under General Varini north of the marsh, and across
from the mouth of the Flendon River.  It's possible that Relath may try to float
an army down the river to land on our eastern shore of the Seldon River.

"We've already called reserves to bolster the First Legion from eight thousand
to twelve thousand, and the Second Legion from seven to ten.

"South of Latham, across the River Gellile we have been forming a Third Legion
under General Tragg.  We expect to call an additional twenty thousand men for
this last force, just about at the limits of Mardya's capacity for fighting men.

"The talent for this force was to be provided by Samiel, but there were problems
with this.  First is the undeniable fact that he is much too old to be traipsing
around the country."  For the first time, a smile passed Hartan's face.  "With
your arrival, I am glad that I won't have to subject him to that.  He knows the
stakes as well as anybody, though, and would have served the legion well I'm sure."

Hartan's face turned serious again.  "The other problem is that we wouldn't have
had much flexibility.  We would have had to keep the full force together to
benefit from his talent, but moving a force of twenty thousand is extremely
difficult.  We know that we can expect attacks on our neighbors to the north and
south, but we would have no way of anticipating which one may need our help.  If
we send the Third Legion south to Melwick we may have found them victorious
against Relath's forces there, but his armies may have conquered Dorine then
moved south into Mardya unopposed.

"We would have had no choice but to wait here until we knew where the threat
came from, north, south or west.  Even then we would only be able to meet it
well within our own borders."

He paused to gather a breath and his calm.

"That is why I am very pleased by your arrival.  I can now safely divide our
forces into smaller, more mobile units.  General Tragg here will take a smaller
Third Legion of eight thousand with Hylian as talent towards the west.  The
Third will take the First's place guarding Hannar's Ford south of Flendon Marsh.
The First will slide north to the Second's place.  The Second Legion will then
pull back to the northeast to cover the pass through the Dellion Hills from
Dorine.  If necessary, they will proceed onto Dorine to help them fight.

"Meanwhile, we will also form a Fourth Legion under General Kirtok.  He will
have seven thousand, and Belsira will be the talent."

What?  Belsira glanced down the table to see Kirtok staring at her again, still
grumpy and as fearsome as before.  At least she knew now why the general was
angry.  Oblivious to her discomfort at the news, Hartan continued.

"When the force is fully assembled and trained as well as time permits, the
Fourth will march directly south toward the pass in the Kyteen Range into
Melwick.  Like the Second, you will determine if you are needed there and
proceed if so.  If not, you will follow the Seldon westward around the Polima
Hills and toward Cathia.  I don't want any of Relath's forces to slip around
behind the Third Legion and into Mardya.

"Finally, with whatever remaining forces we can muster, which may be no more
than five thousand, we will form a Fifth Legion under my direct command and
talented by Samiel.  We will be the last resort, the reinforcements to wherever
we are needed, whether north to Dorine or Thantium, south to Melwick, or west to
support those legions.  We will stay centralized here in Latham until needed."

With that, Hartan was finished with his lecture.  Belsira could only gape at the
enormity of what was happening around her.  Over forty thousand men in arms, and
that just in Mardya.

And she was going to war.  As the talent to an entire legion, whatever that
meant.  No wonder Kirtok was scrutinizing her, his legion would depend on her,
her abilities, her control -- or lack of it.

Hartan had a few last things to say, though.  "We all know the seriousness of
this.  Normally, we would have expected Relath to encircle us before attacking
Mardya directly, a process that may have taken years.  This attack on our
talents may mean that he feels he can move directly against us now.  At the very
least it makes his actions totally unpredictable, and we won't know what's
happening in the other kingdoms until several days after it does."

Hartan paced back and forth with his anxiety.  "I want you to send relay riders
whenever you discover any new information, and every three days no matter what
the circumstances."

Hartan clasped his hands behind his back and took a deep breath.  "We've talked,
we've planned, but now we must act.  I can only hope that our efforts will be
enough.  I offer you all one more night of comfort in my home before you leave
to fight for us all.  I know that it may be impossible, but I wish you all a
good night's sleep.  Thank you."

Belsira could now see the weariness that he must be suffering.  How hard had he
worked to set these plans in motion?  She could see the sadness -- that any of
this should come to pass at all -- and she could see the fear if they should lose.

When King Hartan had left the room, everybody at the table rose to leave.
Samiel gestured for Hylian and Belsira to follow him.

He led them out a different way than they had come, twisting through the halls
of the giant palace until Bel had lost all sense of where she was.  Eventually,
they came out in the hallway leading to the guest rooms and he led them to their
suite.

At the door he stopped.  "Hyl, I truly am sorry that I had to call you here for
this."

"I know, Sam.  I would never shirk this duty, as distasteful as it is."

"And you, Belsira.  I will never be able to make this up to you.  No one so
young should be subject to what you are about to face."

Among all of the people Bel knew, these two were the only ones she couldn't hide
her fear and anxiety from, so she didn't try.  "I'll do my best.  I hope it's
enough."

"We all do, Bel.  We all do."  With that, Samiel turned and shuffled away, truly
looking his age.  The strain of the situation affected everybody.

Once in the room, Hylian lit a couple of lamps from the light in the hallway
then changed into her nightclothes.  Belsira just sat on her bed, contemplating
nothing and everything at once.

"Bel?"

"Hmmm?"

"You really should try to sleep.  This may be the last chance either of us get
to use a bed in quite a while."

"All right," she said absentmindedly as she changed.  This all was so unreal.
Here she was in the palace of the King, the most beautiful place she had ever
been, in a room as big as Hylian's whole cabin, and she couldn't enjoy any part
of it with the war looming in the back of her mind.  What could she do?  More
important, what could her talent do?

She laid down, pulled the covers over herself and settled into the softest
pillow she had ever felt, the little good it would do her this night.

What could she do?

What did they want her to do?

Could she do it?

Over and over she asked the questions.  Over and over her mind refused to
answer.  She asked and asked and asked to the darkness.  Never did an answer
come forth.

Finally, she exhausted herself with the worry, so her body saved her any more
trouble by forcing her to sleep, even if only a troubled one.

Jimor:
Chapter 1, Part 4


The morning fell bright through the window, but Bel couldn't enjoy its splendor.
She dressed automatically, ate mechanically at the breakfast brought to the
room, repacked without thinking of what she would truly need.

Hylian was also silent this morning, a frown on her face, though her emotions
remained unreadable via aura as usual.

Porters gathered their belongings and took them away, then Samiel came to walk
them out to the wagons.

"I'll be out in a couple of days, Hyl, to help with your and Belsira's training.
I need some practice in the battle techniques myself."

"That'll be fine, Sam, It will probably take me that long to figure out how to
put on the armor."  She smiled, but neither laughed at her attempt at a joke,
the mood was too dour.

They mounted the wagon next to the driver, Hylian on the inside, and they were
off.  Belsira looked back one last time to the magnificent palace, and wondered
if she'd ever get a chance to see it again.  Soon they were through the side
service gate and onto the city streets.  This time, with dozens of mounted
guards around an entourage that included two generals, there was a great deal of
attention being paid to them, and even more nervousness in the auras than before.

Belsira turned her attention to the generals riding ahead of the wagon.  General
Tragg was older, grayed hair and beard, slightly stocky.  His uniform was
impeccably pressed and festooned with decorations and medals.  He exuded
authority with a quiet dignity, but also with an aloofness that made her uneasy.
Tragg rode through the city with nary a glance around him at the activities or
people.

General Kirtok, on the other hand, seemed to be very interested in what was
going on around him, his head swiveling to take in the slightest activity around
them as they passed through the streets.  He didn't directly acknowledge anybody
on the ground, and his expression never changed, but his curiosity was clear.

His uniform was also neat and fit well like Tragg's, but except for rank
insignia on his shoulders, was without decorations, and it wasn't as if he
didn't have any to wear, at the King's dinner, there were plenty on his chest.
Given his muscular build and rougher looks, it would have been easy to mistake
him for one of the guards, but if anything, his authority was a greater presence
than the other general's.

Then, he looked back at Belsira, once again locked onto her gaze before she
could avert her eyes.  After a moment, he turned forward again, but then slowed
his horse's pace so that her wagon would catch up to him.

When he was alongside, he spoke without looking at her.  "When I'm being
watched, I usually know it."

She had no reply to that, just lowered her gaze to the ground and tried to make
herself disappear.

"I'm sure you have many questions, now is as good a time as any to ask."

She did have questions.  Many of them, but couldn't think of any under his scrutiny.

"Maybe later then."  He continued riding alongside, however, instead of moving
up to his previous position.

For the first time this morning, she noticed an aura from him.  Nervousness?  It
seemed so out of place with his sure and confident demeanor, but at least it was
better than him being angry.  She even heard a bit of hesitance when he spoke
again.  "I understand that this... situation is difficult for you.  It will be
important in the days ahead for us to be able to communicate as openly as possible."

She nodded.  She certainly hoped so, but everything was going too fast, the
situation was too big, and she felt too small.

Kirtok tried once more.  "I'm a man used to given orders and having them being
obeyed, but the situation between us is different.  While I understand what
talent can do on a battlefield, I also realize that your abilities are difficult
to control.  I suppose it's similar to how I may give an order during a battle,
but by the time it filters through my subcommanders and then to the soldiers,
what happens on the field may at best be an approximation of my intent."

Belsira listened, nodded again, then noticed that Hylian beside her wasn't going
to interfere with this discussion.  It was her place to respond.  "I'll try to
do my best, sir."

Another pause.  They rode a ways down the main street then turned south onto a
broad street flanked with rows of broad shade trees before he spoke again.

"Officially and traditionally, the Battle Talent is third in command of the legion."

Now that piqued her curiosity.  "Oh?"

"Yes.  Loric is my second, you'll meet him in camp.  Now, while I won't change
this arrangement or lessen the authority granted you, I hope you'll understand
that under normal circumstances, a Battle Talent has had extensive military
training and understands military traditions and methods."

"Oh yes, certainly, I understand I think.  I don't think you'll have to worry
about me pushing my weight around when I don't know what's going on."

"Yes, thank you.  At the same time, please remember that it is important that
you and your position are always treated respectfully.  I can and will tell the
men and officers of the legion this, but all the same, how you carry yourself
will matter more in the end."

She thought about that a moment, nodded.

A short time later, they exited the south gate of Letham along the bank of the
Gillile River, and crossed the Three Arc Bridge that led to the open plains
beyond.  Along the road, grain fields waved in the morning breeze, and Belsira
noticed by its absence that the mild stench of city life had fallen behind them.

Maybe it was his efforts, maybe it was the fact that nobody except their own
party was around to watch, but she finally felt comfortable enough to start
asking her own questions.

"General, please tell me, what am I supposed to do for you.  For the life of me,
I think about all of the times I've used my talent, and I can't understand how
they'd be useful in a battle enough to justify all the attention we're receiving."

Kirtok thought a moment in silence.  "Very well, I will try to explain at least
the rudiments of what a battle talent does during combat.

"First and foremost, your task is to shield and protect our soldiers from the
opposing talent.  What's important to understand is that there will be thousands
of men engaged in battle before you, and the amount of emotional energy spilling
from the field is far greater and far more focused than anything a talent
experiences at any other time.  Fear, hatred, anger.  The emotions we try to
avoid all our lives will flow like a river, and the destructive potential of
that negative energy is a resource in battle we cannot afford to waste."

He gave her a moment to appreciate the implications of what he said, then continued.

"As an example of a method you'll probably use often, that power can be used to
weaken the weapons and armor of the enemy so that our soldiers have an easier
fight.  The ground beneath them can also be softened so they can't achieve a
sure footing.  So while you can't directly attack the soldiers on the other
side, your abilities can give our men a decided advantage."

She could see it now, and it made sense for once.

"So my talent is... an influence on the fight, but not necessarily a part of it?"

He hesitated.  "That's essentially correct, but there are techniques you'll
learn that are more direct, but when there's an opposing talent, most of your
work will be involved in balancing his power so that we don't suffer from such
effects.  I have great confidence in our soldiers in a fair fight, so for the
time being, I'll be satisfied with that.  However, I would much rather it be an
unfair fight to our advantage, if you can manage that for me."  For the very
first time, he smiled at her, and she couldn't help but smile in return.

"I will try, General.  I will certainly try."

That seemed to satisfy him, and they rode for a while longer in silence, but
Belsira had one more question for him.

"General, if I may.  I noticed how curious you were about the activities and
people of the city.  Is there something you were looking for in particular?"

He thought a moment before replying.  "No.  You have to realize, I've been a
soldier since I left home.  I have no family, and the legion has been my life
for over twenty years now, so I don't feel much connection to how civilians live
anymore.  I don't regret my decisions, but I do have to remind myself that there
is more to this world than my soldiers and my duties.

"Most importantly, I have to remind myself that it is those people, who may have
no idea how my world works or even that it exists, that I'm fighting for.  If
you ever have doubts about your duties or what you will be asked to do, that is
what you should remember.  If we fail, it is they who will eventually suffer."

Belsira thought about that, and thought about her own family for the first time
in ages.  As far as she knew, they had no idea she was part of the war now.

In the distance, she noticed a dusty haze rising from the plain, and as they
rolled over a rise, she saw the camp.  Thousands of tents dotted the fields
against the far bank of the Gillile where it had looped back around to the east.
She had been impressed with Latham and its scope, but this tent city was truly
overwhelming.

General Kirtok pointed to the camp.  "There are fourteen thousand men here now,
and another six thousand due within days."  Belsira could only gasp at the
numbers -- as many people in this camp as lived in the capital city of Mardya.

Their group continued through the camp.  Men sparred with swords and pikes,
sergeants barked orders to young men fresh off the farm, captains organized
their groups of new recruits as best they could.  Belsira saw all of this and
felt dazed, as if it were all a dream and none of it could be real. 

They passed sheds with smiths pounding metal into weapons, others with cooks
slaving over fires as they struggled to feed the massed troops.  She never
considered how much food an army could consume.  How would they keep the legions
supplied?

The answer came as they passed row after row of wagons stacked to bursting with
sacks and barrels and crates of all kinds.  There were even dozens of wagons
carrying nothing but firewood.  She couldn't even begin to imagine where all of
this material came from.  The immense effort of this war seemed to weigh down
the very air around her.

Their little procession finally came to a stop at a compound of buildings in the
middle of the camp.  General Kirtok dismounted his horse and approached the wagon.

"If you ladies will come with me, we'll make sure you have what you need."

He marched into the first building with Hyl and Bel in tow and approached an
officer at the desk in the corner.  "Mill, I need the armorer to come to fit our
new battle talents with light plate."

"Yes, sir."  Mill left through the back door on his errand.

"Berrick, is everything on schedule?"

"Yes, General.  We're still waiting on an order of salt beef, but it should be
here late tomorrow."

"Good, good.  And the men?"

"They seem eager if undisciplined, but Captains Vardick and Rorton are whipping
them into shape."

"Excellent.  Captain Berrick, this is Lady Hylian, she'll be Tragg's battle
talent, and this is her student, Belsira, talent for our Fourth."

The captain stood and extended his hand as he looked the women up and down.
Belsira could see the doubt written on his face.  She couldn't blame him as the
sight of an old woman and a young girl amidst this massive war machine just
seemed ludicrous to her at the moment.  "Pleased to meet you, Lady Hylian, Lady
Belsira."

"Thank you, Captain," Hylian replied.  "Do you know where our quarters will be?
We need to get settled so we can begin training.  We have a lot to catch up on."

"Er . . . umm, begin?"  He shot Kirtok a questioning look, but quickly
recovered.  "Yes, certainly.  This way."

He led them through the back and between the rows of buildings.  As Belsira
examined them, she could tell that they had been hastily assembled and hardly
finished at all.

Berrick escorted them to a long barracks building with a series of six doors
along the side and led them into the fourth room.  Inside stood two double bunks
against the side walls and not much else.

"This barracks is for junior officers, but hasn't been needed yet.  You can have
this room to yourselves -- for obvious reasons.  I'll send your belongings
around as well as the armorer."

Hylian took a look around.  "Thank you, Captain Berrick.  This will be fine."

"Very well," he said as he rushed out to get back to his duties.

Belsira examined her new quarters, pushed against the bunks to test their
sturdiness -- not very.  "I think I'll sleep in the bottom of this one."

"Good idea, Bel.  A little bit of a letdown after the palace."

"I don't know.  I think I'll be more comfortable here.  I was afraid to touch
anything in our palace room."

"Yes, this is small, it's dingy, it's just like home."

Bel found herself smiling at that despite her uncertain mood.  The close
quarters allowed her to feel safer, more secure than the vast expanse of the
palace suite.  She felt like hiding, hunkering down in the nearest corner and
refusing to come out.  She still had little idea of what was expected of her,
but she knew that people were going to die, possibly because of her.

Hartan had made it quite clear that this war couldn't be fought without her wild
talent.  She knew it was rare, but only twenty-eight, now reduced to five, in
all of Mardya?  There were over two hundred thousand people in the kingdom
according to the last census.

"What do you think of General Kirtok?"  Hylian asked.

"He seems all right now, but it took a while to get past my first impression."

"Yes, he is an imposing man.  I wouldn't want to cross him."

"Me neither.  I hope I can do what he wants."

"You can only do what you promised, Bel.  Your best."

Hylian left the gloom of the room, it still had no lamps, to stand in the open
doorway.  Some soldiers appeared with their trunks in tow and brought them into
the room and placed them at the foot of each bunk.

Hyl pulled one aside.  "Excuse me, young man, would you be so kind as to point
me in the right direction for the... ah... accommodations?"

He stood puzzled for a moment, but then caught her meaning.  "Yes, ma'am, you'll
find those facilities for officers down at the end of this row of barracks and
to the left."

"Thank you.  Bel, I'll be right back."

Belsira sat on her bunk, bounced a bit to test it -- hard as a rock as she had
guessed.  She had a feeling falling asleep tonight wouldn't be a problem for once.

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