David Niemitz
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Guild Mage 254
🕑 Added 2025-09-09 16:01:32 +0000 UTCChapter 254: The Council Atop the Mountain
“Not everyone here is fluent in Vakansa,” Liv pointed out. “Do you speak Lucanian, Juhani kæn Kalleis?” There was a part of her that wanted to offer a word of comfort to Wren, but she had the feeling that if she looked away from those gray eyes, she would be admitting defeat, or at least ceding ground.
“Somewhat,” Juhani admitted, switching languages. He was being honest: his Lucanian was heavily accented.
“I’m sure if you sit next to my father, he’ll be able to clarify anything you can’t follow,” Liv said. “And it’s heartening to see more houses joining the efforts against Ractia.” She wished that her father had arrived alone, and that he’d come an hour before they were set to begin. She wanted to throw her arms around him, to prove to herself that he was well, that he hadn’t been injured in Varuna. She wanted to pour out all of her problems to him, and listen to his advice. Instead, she took a moment to look around the room and meet the eyes of each person present, one after the other. It was what Julianne or Henry would have done.
“Thank you all for coming to this meeting,” Liv said. “We’re going to try to keep this brief, in consideration of those who aren’t accustomed to spending an extended period of time in a rift. Śrī Arjun Iyuz will see to anyone who may require it, at the base of the mountain, once we’re finished here.”
Guildmistress Every nodded, and at her left hand, Kazimir Grenfell. Grouped near them were Baron Arnold Crosbie, who Liv had managed to avoid speaking to so far, along with his son Baudwin, named Baron of Gold Creek by Julianne before her death. Bryn sat in for the Baroness of Ashford, who, after her husband Isaac’s death, showed little interest in anything but her own children. It did not escape Liv’s notice that the table had essentially sorted into human on one side, and Eld on the other, with she and her closest friends the exception. Nor was she naive enough to think she would escape the day without having to explain to the Crosbies where Triss was.
“When we met with Elders Aira tär Keria and Eila tär Väinis in Al’Fenthia, during the winter, it was decided that we would do three things,” Liv continued. “First, that my father, Valtteri ka Auris, would lead an expedition to the painted desert in Varuna, to secure the rift there. In the meanwhile, my companions and I would secure the key of Celris and meet him there. In the meantime, House Keria would begin sending supplies to aid Whitehill against the crown of Lucania, with Elden troops to follow. That decision essentially created a northern alliance – first to shore up our rear here in Isvara, and then, once Lucania was defeated, to shift our forces to engage Ractia fully in Varuna.”
“We have accomplished everything that we set out to do this winter,” Liv reminded them. “Though we have suffered losses along the way, we now hold two rifts in Varuna, enabling us to move troops and supplies to the very foot of the mountains where Ractia has made her base. We have beaten back the crown army here, and reached terms for peace with Lucania. Now comes the time to shift our forces west. But we’ve also learned new information. Keri?”
From the wheeled chair at Liv’s right hand, Keri stirred. They’d chosen the positioning deliberately, for two reasons. First, to put his weak left side next to Liv. Second, and more selfishly on Liv’s part, she’d wanted to see whether his father, Ilmari, would sit next to him. That would have placed the elder only a short distance from Liv, and the positioning would have implied his support.
Instead, Ilmari ka Väinis had chosen to sit with the other three elders.
“Wren discovered that parts of the Lucanian House Sherard have been worshipping Ractia,” Keri began.
Liv felt badly for having him speak almost immediately: instead of the strong, confident voice that she’d heard shout commands across the battlefield during the battle at the pass, he now spoke slowly, with obvious effort, and softly enough that those at the far end of the table leaned forward to catch his words. He seemed to have particular difficulty with the ‘t’ sound, which came out closer to a ‘b.’ Liv reached out, beneath the table, and took his left hand in her right, giving it a squeeze meant to encourage him.
“The dowager queen used the word of blood in battle,” Keri continued. “I managed to kill her, but one of her spells almost killed me. While I was unconscious, my spirit travelled the world.”
“This is a technique of the Eld,” Liv explained, for the humans in the room who looked confused. “It’s something our parents show us how to do for the first time when we become an adult.” She nodded to Keri to continue.
“I saw a group of Ractia’s commanders, on an island in a gray sea,” Keri said. “They killed a wyrm, carved the heart from its chest, and used it in a prayer to the Lady of Blood.”
Liv wanted to tell him that he’d done well, but she wouldn’t ever embarrass Keri like that in front of all these people. Instead, she gave his hand another squeeze. “Thank you. Ghveris and Wren can explain what that ritual means for us, as well as identify who precisely made up this group.”
“It is a rite performed by the blood-letters,” Ghveris said, his voice a rumble rising up from his metal chest and vibrating, hissing, clanking as his inner workings moved. Liv observed that those who had never spoken with the Antrian war-machine before were taken aback by the effect. Arnold and Baudwin Crosbie watched him with narrowed eyes, and a posture that suggested they were ready to draw swords at the wrong move. Of course, both men had spent their entire lives fighting the Antrians that roamed around the Foundry Rift.
Aatu, the Elder of whatever remnant was left from House Iravata, maintained a more placid countenance. Perhaps watching most of his house betray his people had given him perspective. Juhani, like the Crosbies, regarded Liv’s protector with skepticism, though at least he didn’t look ready to leap into battle.
“A warrior must first hunt the animal whose form he wishes,” Ghveris continued. He turned to regard Wren for a moment, then inclined his enormous, armored head. “Or she. The warrior brings the heart to a blood-letter, who calls upon Ractia for her blessing. When the heartsblood is consumed, the power of Ractia grants a new form, which becomes a part of the hunter.”
“In this case,” Wren said, “that form is a wyrm.”
“They originally tried to kill Silica,” Arjun added, “the wyrm of the painted desert. But she drove them away, and I was able to heal her wounds.”
Wren nodded, though Liv could tell the woman hadn’t entirely relaxed since the Eld from Soltheris had walked in the door. “Keri was able to confirm there was a blood-letter to conduct the ritual on the island he saw,” she explained. “That means we need to expect that both my father, and Noghis, will be able to take that form.”
Aatu stirred. “Silica may be the oldest surviving wyrm in the world,” he offered, in Lucanian even more heavily accented than Juhani’s. “When Iravata birthed the first clutch, with Ractia’s aid as her midwife, it is said that each egg was etched with a different Vædic sigil, and that each hatchling emerged with a different word of power imprinted. Almost all of the first clutch were killed in the war. Any force that could challenge Silica is formidable.”
“My daughter has killed two of her commanders already,” Valtteri said, his voice ringing the length of the table. “Has she replaced them?”
Wren nodded. “The group that Keri saw seemed to be led by my father, Nighthawk Wind Dancer,” she said. “He was a powerful hunter and warrior, with multiple forms, even before Ractia enslaved him. She apparently used him to sire a son, Noghis, who grows more rapidly than any natural child. Manfred, the Lucanian mercenary I fought at Coral Bay, was with them. He’s their best tactical mind, their commander in battle. The old priest, Aariv, was there, as well.”
“That one is known to me,” Vivek Sharma broke in. “As I have discussed with Livara before. He was an ambitious young man, who wanted to bring more words of power back to Lendh ka Dakruim – much like someone else I know.” He glanced to Arjun. “But the traditions of my people are sometimes unfortunately inflexible. I believe that Aariv turned to Ractia in resentment, after his own people rejected him. We know that he will have at least three words of power: fire, calm, and sight. It would be foolish to believe he has not also learned blood.”
“Where did he learn Æter?” Bryn Grenfell asked.
“During his travels in the north,” Sharma said. “I do not know where.”
The four elders present exchanged glances. “It is a relatively common second word among House Bælris,” Keri’s father said, after a moment’s thought. “No one directly descended from Æteris survived the war, but the word was preserved.”
“This would have been forty years ago, perhaps?” Aira asked, and Sharma nodded his head. “I recall a boy from the east visiting Al’Fenthia around that time. We granted him an audience. He could well have made a bargain with someone at that time. He seemed a kind boy – it’s a shame if this is truly how he ended up.”
“Regardless of where he learned it,” Wren said, “we also know they’ve promoted someone to replace Calevis. Keri identified her as Seija, of House Iravata.”
“She is known to me,” Aatu said.
“And to me, as well,” Ilmari added. The two old men exchanged glances. “We had at one point considered joining her to my nephew.”
“That one always burned with shame,” Aatu said. “She worshiped stories of our ancestors’ battles on behalf of the Vædim, and often said that we should never have surrendered at the Hall of Ancestors. Like too many of our young who followed Calevis, she idealized a lost cause.”
Liv let go of Keri’s hand and raised both of her arms above the table, holding them out to either side as if to encompass the group. “So. We know that Ractia’s people have not been idle while we dealt with Benedict’s assault. They tried to get a wyrm form from Silica, and when that failed, they found an alternative. They’ve promoted Seija to replace Calevis as their Elden commander, and Ractia’s birthed a half-Vædic child – the first one in twelve hundred years. We know that she’s been sending teams around the world to pull ancient machines from rifts, and that she’s been building something at least as far back as the assault on Coral Bay. That’s nearly a year, now. They have a large number of Antrians from the Foundry Rift. What we’re here to do, today, is make a plan of attack. She’s holed up in a mountain rift called Menis Vestheris – Nightfall Peak.”
She dropped her hands back down, taking up her goblet with one hand and wetting her throat with a swallow of wine. Liv had watched Henry do this: frame the opposition, the goal, and then let his knights debate the best way to proceed.
It was Soleil, the Kerian commander with the sides of her head shaved, who spoke first. “With Lucania whipped, there’s nothing to stop us from swinging all of our healthy troops to Varuna. We use the rift here at Bald Peak, and the one at Al’Fenthia, as our primary rally points. We should decide which units are going to the bridge rift, and which will go directly to the painted desert. Wounded can be left behind to recover. As soon as we have a strike force assembled, we march out from the desert into the mountains. Whatever they’re planning doesn’t matter if we hit them before they’ve finished.”
“There are complications,” Liv’s father said, drawing his words out slowly. “I don’t believe you’ve actually been to Silica’s rift, Commander. It’s not the sort of place you want to keep an army for long. There’s no substantial source of water or food.”
“Forgive me, but wasn’t that the entire point in taking it?” Soleil asked, with a frown.
“It was,” Elder Aira confirmed. “But you should know, Commander, the difference between looking at a map and actually being in a place, with your boots in the dust. In this case, that difference is working against us, if I understand Valtteri correctly.”
Liv’s father nodded, his white braids shifting across his shoulders and chest, the charms and pieces of mana stone at each end clinking against each other. “It is still the best rally point we have, but I don’t want anyone to expect an easy march of it. We either need to march across the desert and up into the mountains, or build boats to move troops upriver. But even that is complicated: my scouts report a number of cascades along the river’s descent from the mountain slopes.”
“An exhausting march, followed by fighting our way uphill through the mountains,” Keri said. “It is nearly the opposite of the battle we just fought - though our supply lines will actually be more difficult to manage than the crown’s.”
“If the enemy commander is capable – which you say he is,” Baron Crosbie said, nodding to Wren, “then he will force us to fight a dozen small skirmishes, to take every fortified position on our way up into those mountains. We don’t have any good map, and we don’t know where they’ve built defenses. Every step we take toward this ‘Nightfall Peak’ is going to cost us in blood.”
“I was there when her followers arrived at the mountains,” Wren said. “I know the route they took, and I can get us to the rift. I’ve had Sidonie help make a rough map.” The huntress stepped forward, between Liv and Pandit Sharma, and unrolled a large piece of calfskin on the table. Liv and several others shifted carafes of wine and goblets to hold down the corners, while Valtteri, Soile, Baron Crosbie, and even Kaija shifted themselves forward to lean down and get a good look.
“There’s no way you can use that crown to take us right to their waystone?” Arnold Crosbie asked Liv. Before he’d even finished the question, the Eld in the room were shaking their heads.
“A key won’t overpower whatever defenses Ractia has put in place on that stone,” Elder Aira explained. “All of those enchantments will recognize her authority to give commands above that of Livara’s, or mine.”
“We march up to the plateau here,” Soile proposed, stabbing a finger down at the map. “Just beneath the first cataract. Take and hold the territory. Fortify. We bring seeds, and use Cer to bring an early summer harvest while we push deeper into the mountains. That gives us a supply of fruits and vegetables to supplement the rations our troops carry.”
“Any ground we take and hold we will have to defend,” Liv’s father pointed out.
“Can wagons move across this desert?” Baron Baudwin asked, speaking up for the first time.
Valtteri shook his head. “Not the entire distance. There are sand drifts here, and here, that the wheels won’t be able to get traction on.”
“Something like a sleigh, or a sledge, perhaps?” Kaija suggested.
It was Vivek Sharma who answered. “No. You want a particular type of animal for your baggage train. We have them in the southwest of Lendh ka Dakruim, and we call them ‘ushtrah.’ Long legs and neck, hump on the back. You will find no beast of burden better suited to transporting your supplies across a desert.”
“Can you arrange a contact who will trade with us?” Liv asked.
Sharma nodded. “Yes. It will be expensive, to get as many as you will need - and you will want to employ people familiar with them, at first, to teach your soldiers how to care for the beasts. They can be - irritable.”
Liv quickly glanced around the table. “Elder Aira, would House Keria be willing to handle those negotiations?”
The old woman grinned and nodded. “I will send Vari. It’s good for him to gain experience without having his father around to rely on.”
“We will secure Dakruiman ushtrah, then, to make up our supply trains,” Liv said. “We’ll need to assign enough warriors to guard the route from the rift up into the mountains, but that’s manageable. Now –”
“And it is decided, just like that, is it?” Juhani said, interrupting her. “It is the custom of our people for the council of elders to make decisions.”
“Not in time of war, it isn’t,” Liv shot back. “Which you know very well.”
“And the elders appointed your father to command our soldiers in this war, not you,” the gray-eyed Elden man responded. “Even then, it was only houses Keria, Däivi and, debatably, House Syvä, who agreed to this alliance.”
“And House Bælris,” Keri added, from Liv’s side.
“You spoke for our house, not the elders,” his father pointed out. “You made a commitment, which I cannot fault you for, because you were present and a decision needed to be made. And we backed your commitment, Inkeris. But we did not agree to place Livara in command of our warriors.”
“What are you saying?” Liv’s cousin, Miina said, stepping forward with her jaw set.
“I am saying,” Juhani told her, “that twelve hundred years ago our people fought and died to throw off the boot of the old gods. Our ancestors fought and died for our freedom. And I, for one, have no interest in submitting myself to anyone who carries the title ‘Lady of Winter.”
Comments
Tarrim
Because she is claiming political power mostly. They don't care that she is a strong mage and probably not much interest in if she queen of the humans, but she is positioning herself outside the traditional eld power structures and in some ways above them that makes them nervous.
lenkite
Not a big deal - Liv can just say she has no interest in commanding troops anyways. Her contribution will be as a [Mage]. She is also paying for needlessly and stupidly flexing her authority against House Baelris now.
Fahnir
Why should this Juhani have such a problem with Liv being powerful when she's on their side?? Especially in a war? LIv's the only one with contacts among both the eld and humans.
