The Sword's Elegy

1

THE RAGE OF BROKEN HEARTS

For some, change happens all at once. Even when the one who changes is happy, often those around them suffer, unable to see through their own narrow view of who that person is.

Trials of the Innocent, Shemi of Vylari

The distinctive scent of lovemaking mingled with the sweet aroma of cinnamon, a familiar scent that frequently trickled into the halls from beneath the door. And if you could smell it, you knew not to knock. But it was precisely what had prompted Belkar to enter uninvited.

In the far corner of the tiny austere bedroom, atop a thin, white pedestal, rested a stone brazier filled with smoldering embers, which heated a bronze bowl of water with four cinnamon sticks poking over the edge.

The bed was a disheveled mess, the sheets wadded up and kicked against the footboard and the blanket on the floor along with most of the pillows. The body of a young woman, no older than twenty, her flesh still glistening with sweat, was lying facedown, arms splayed. She was pretty—athletic, dark skin, with tight curls trimmed neatly above the shoulders.

Belkar didn’t recognize her but assumed she was a new arrival from Nivania or perhaps Gath. Crossing the room, he stood beside the bed and glared down at the naked form. Gradually his hand drifted to his belt, but reason got the better of him as the tip of his finger touched the handle of the small knife.

A raging tempest of emotion coursed through his veins: hatred, anger, confusion. But most of all, he felt rejected and hurt. How could she do this to him? What was so special about this … newcomer? This powerless nobody?

The youth stirred, and Belkar felt a tingle in his chest, prompting a sudden compulsion to flee the room so as to hide the embarrassment and shame he was certain were plain for all to see. But his feet would not obey his command. All he could do was stare down, his face contorted in a display of crazed jealousy.

The girl’s eyes fluttered open and a contented smile stretched across her lips, accompanied by a soft sigh. She rolled onto her back and stretched, not seeing Belkar until after letting out a groggy, sleep-soddened yawn. She scrambled back against the headboard, eyes darting around the room. But this frenzy only lasted a few seconds, and she quickly calmed down, looking most relieved to see who it was. Though why she should be was as much a mystery to Belkar as her identity.

What are you doing? she said, squinting up at Belkar and rubbing the stiffness from her neck. Her voice was softly rich and pleasing to the ears, with a maturity of timbre that was a bit disarming and out of place for one so young.

But Belkar was neither pleased nor disarmed, and his restraint was now being tested to its limits by this impertinent question. Where is she? The ever so slight tremor in his tone was the only indication that he was a hair’s breadth away from plunging a knife into this usurper’s chest.

I am the only one here, she replied.

I can see that. I’m not blind. The youth did not appear intimidated, and oddly unsurprised to see him. I asked you a question. Where is she?

There is no need for anger, she said, blinking and rubbing her face, the remnants of sleep still clinging to her consciousness.

Again, Belkar’s hand drifted toward his knife. You don’t tell me what there’s a need for. Do you know who I am?

I think you should calm down, she said, noticing the weapon. You don’t want to do anything foolish.

Don’t tell me to calm down, Belkar snapped hotly. You think you’re special? You think because she took you into her bed that it gives you the right to speak to me any way you want?

She held up a hand. I haven’t spoken to you in any way at all. I just need you to calm down. She tilted her head at the knife.

Belkar pulled the blade from its sheath and tossed it at her feet. Holding his hands out to his sides, fingers spread, he brought forth twin flames that hovered near his palms. I don’t need steel to send you to the depths.

There wasn’t a soul in the enclave who wouldn’t have been terrified in that moment, with one notable exception. But whoever this was, she simply sat up and retrieved a blue cotton robe that was wadded up on the floor on the other side of the bed.

You need to leave, she said, tying the robe snuggly around her waist and crossing over to a small cabinet in the far corner of the chamber, inside of which waited a bottle of wine and two glasses. You can come back when you are not so angry.

Belkar had never cast an elemental spell at a living being before. Violence was only permitted when used in self-defense. Twice this rule had been violated since the enclave was built, and both Thaumas were now exiled to Bathor Island and would remain there for the rest of their lives. But in his moment of rage, consequences were not a consideration.

Is everything all right?

He hadn’t heard the door open. But had it not, the arrogant young girl now sipping the wine Belkar had spent weeks procuring as a gift two years prior would have been a charred stump. Extinguishing the flames, he spun to see Vandra Marvo, her raven hair tucked beneath a white cotton cap and wrapped up in an emerald green satin robe with matching slippers.

What do you want, Vandra? Belkar demanded.

Vandra was a most talented bard, one of the finest in the High Order of Kylor, to be so young—only recently turning twenty-five. It was then Belkar noticed her lute resting in a chair near a dresser opposite the bed. She typically did not stay at the enclave during a visit, preferring a nearby cabin built by her older brother, a Thaumas who lived there.

I would ask you the same question, she said, her eyes shifting from Belkar to the young woman.

I’m here to see Kylor. It was quickly beginning to look as if he had misinterpreted the situation; a mistake that had nearly turned him into a murderer.

The young girl lowered her head. I haven’t had the chance to explain yet.

Vandra looked uneasy. Turning slightly, she reached for the doorknob. Should I leave?

Please, the young woman said.

The way she smiled at Vandra further confirmed that Belkar had misunderstood what he’d seen.

Vandra gave Belkar a guilty look, then hurried away, one hand gripping tightly at the collar of her robe.

Do you have permission to be in here? Belkar asked in a firm, reprimanding tone. Misunderstanding or not, this was Kylor’s private chamber. Though given her indulgent nature, he doubted Kylor would discipline or even scold them over the infraction. Still, Vandra at least should know to show some respect. If she wanted to bed someone, she should take them to her own home. Or at least use a vacant room, of which there were many.

The girl drained the glass and gestured to a small table, where Kylor often would eat her breakfast. We need to talk.

I think you should get dressed, Belkar said. You shouldn’t be in here without permission.

Please, sit, Belkar.

You know me? He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing her carefully, noting the way she was looking at him, her expression one of familiarity.

Of course I know you, she replied.

I don’t know what Vandra told you, Belkar said, now becoming irritated. But this is Kylor’s chamber. I don’t think she would—

"I am Kylor."

It took several seconds for the words to have any impact. The claim was ridiculous. And yet there was no lie in the young woman’s eyes.

Don’t be absurd, Belkar scoffed, refusing to accept something so utterly outlandish. Tell me where she is right now or you’ll be on your way back to wherever it is you came from by tomorrow.

I know this is hard, she said with a sad smile. I wanted to tell you before your trip to Ur Minosa. But you left in such a hurry. And you weren’t due to return until next week. I wouldn’t have wanted you to find out this way.

Belkar could neither move nor speak. He didn’t want to believe it. But it was true. Impossible as it seemed, the young woman standing there, hand propped against the back of the chair and holding an empty wineglass, was precisely who she claimed to be.

Kylor set the glass on the table and crossed over to stand in front of him. Even her walk was the same. The way she placed her left hand on her hip. All the tiny gestures that Belkar delighted in noticing. They were unmistakable. And now that she was close enough for him to see them clearly, so were her eyes.

I know this is confusing for you, Kylor said. She reached out and touched Belkar’s cheek.

Belkar blinked hard, then grabbed Kylor’s wrist, shoving her hand away. What have you done?

Kylor moved a small step closer, but Belkar jumped quickly back.

I am sorry, Kylor said. But I told you this was a possibility.

Belkar’s disbelief was gradually being displaced by anger. You said you might change again. You never said… Kylor had told him that one day she would shed her form; take on a new one. And at the time, he’d thought he understood. But seeing it manifested in front of his own eyes, he simply could not accept it. All signs of the woman she had been were gone. This reflection of youth and vigor had supplanted the grace and maturity he had known and loved. She was even younger than the day they had met.

All things change, Belkar, Kylor responded. She looked hurt by Belkar’s reaction. For me, the change is more dramatic than it is for humankind. You know this better than anyone.

Belkar knew Kylor was not human. In fact, he derived a great deal of pride in being the only one in the order who knew this as fact rather than rumor. Not that Kylor kept it a secret. But those who would hear it never believed; not even when they heard it from Kylor’s own mouth. But he had seen things, wondrous things, that made it impossible to doubt.

But why?

My time in my other body was at an end, she explained. And I was spending a great deal of time with Vandra. As we grew closer, I felt it best to begin with her from a place of renewal. It felt like the right choice, for both of us.

And how did I factor in on your decision? Belkar snapped. You find a new lover and that’s it? You cast me aside completely?

Kylor shook her head. Not at all. But we had already agreed our romantic relationship was ended. There seemed no reason to remain as I was.

Belkar felt a cold knot form in the pit of his stomach. It was true that they had agreed not to continue their romantic involvement—but it had been in the heat of an argument, his words spoken in haste. In fact, he had returned early so as to repair the damage he’d caused.

So you move on as if I had never been? Did I mean nothing to you?

Of course you meant something to me, she said. My life has been greatly enriched through our time together. When we met, I was inspired by you. Your passion. Your strength of will. A faint smile drifted across her lips. I actually stayed in that form far longer than intended because of you.

I’m supposed to be flattered by that? he shouted, face flushed and heart thudding madly.

That’s not what I meant, Kylor said.

So what happened? I no longer inspire you? You’re inspired by Vandra now? Is that it?

Kylor let slip a long sigh. That’s not it at all. Vandra is different. She ignites a part of me I have ignored for too long. Where you are an inferno, she is the sea. Both beautiful and mysterious. Both powerful. But not the same.

Never before had Belkar felt so utterly dejected and small. He was easily the most powerful Thaumas in the order. His name was known by the rulers of every nation in Lamoria, spoken only with respect and awe. The wisdom of his council had brokered a peace that had saved the lives of countless people. There was scarcely a door that was not thrown open at his approach or a hall not prepared for a celebration upon receiving word of his coming. Whereas Vandra … she hadn’t traveled outside the Sylerian border in years. She didn’t even visit the Bard Hall. Sure, she was talented, but timid and unable to express herself without an instrument in hand. How could Kylor prefer such a meek little mouse? He refused to accept it.

We have been together for more than twenty years, Belkar pointed out. And you expect me to believe you no longer love me?

Of course I love you, she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. But I have changed. My needs have changed.

Belkar removed Kylor’s hand, but this time held it tight. I can fulfill them. I swear it.

She lifted Belkar’s hand to her lips and gave his fingertips a tender kiss. Our time is over, and you must find a way to move on. Grow beyond what we had together. Allow the memories to help you find a new path for yourself.

He released Kylor’s hand and quickly turned to conceal the tears welling in his eyes. So you want me to leave the enclave?

That is not what I meant, she said. This is your home, and it always will be.

Belkar had never felt the sting of desperation; the hollow ache left behind when betrayed by the person you loved most in the world; the helplessness of being utterly impotent and powerless to change what had happened. In his mind, the love he shared with Kylor would never die. An unchanging constant that he could always count on. But it was all a lie. He was old. Used up. To be replaced by someone new. Someone younger.

I cannot bear to see you in pain, Kylor said. She reached out, but withdrew when Belkar jerked his shoulder. Please. Tell me what I can do.

Tell Vandra you made a mistake, Belkar blurted out. Keep this body if you want, but come back to me.

A tear crept down Kylor’s cheek. That is the one thing I cannot do. I hope one day you understand why.

Belkar clenched his fists, sucking in several trembling breaths before storming to the door and throwing it wide. Fuck your whore if that’s what you want, he said. You’ll never find anyone to love you as I do.

Belkar slammed the door behind him before Kylor could say a word. Vandra was sitting on a bench at the end of the hallway, eyes downcast, unwilling to meet Belkar’s accusing gaze.

It won’t last. Belkar’s voice reverberated off the barren stone walls. In the end, you’ll be abandoned too. And I hope I’m there to see it.

As he strode away, the gathering tears began to fall, but he wiped them dry before anyone could see. He wanted to believe Kylor would regret what she had done; that in the end she would beg him to come back. But there was a tiny voice in the furthest recesses of his mind telling him that such thoughts were nothing more than a delusion. The being known as Kylor was heartless and cruel. While advocating for the world to show generosity and compassion, she was in truth selfish and unkind.

2

A DARK TIDE RISES

The war did not happen all at once. It came in bits and pieces. It was nothing like I imagined it would be. Though how could I have had any expectations?

Trials of the Innocent, Shemi of Vylari

Lem’s heart froze. Are you sure?

The young girl carrying a bundle of cloth across her back nodded somberly. Gothmora too. Fifty thousand soldiers is what I hear. And more are coming, if what my uncle told me is right.

Is your uncle a soldier? Mariyah asked.

The girl shook her head. Cloth merchant. But he was in Ubania when the Ralmarstads landed. Had to leave an entire shipment behind, otherwise he’d have been trapped there.

Lem and Mariyah exchanged worried glances.

I’m sure Loria’s all right, Lem said.

Mariyah closed her eyes and nodded slowly. Of course. I am too.

Lem turned his attention back to the girl. Thank you. I hope your uncle recovers from his bad fortune.

The girl shrugged. He’s got plenty of gold. Maybe now he’ll retire.

Lem smiled, then waited until she continued on her way before speaking to Mariyah. Do you want to go to Ubania?

No, Mariyah replied. If Loria escaped, she would go to the enclave.

Lem looked out on the road ahead, leading to Throm. He now regretted the detour. A simple inquiry would have told them what had happened. Had they not spotted one hundred or so Lytonian soldiers camped along the roadside the previous night, it would not have occurred to him to ask the young lady for news.

Before you say a word, Mariyah added, we’re not turning back. I insist on seeing Shemi. And you need your balisari.

Lem doubted Shemi was still in Throm. Travil had told him that should war break out, he intended to take Shemi to Gath, where he owned a small cabin deep in the forest where no one was likely to find them. Somewhere they could be alone, where Shemi could wander the woods in peace and heal from the pain of being parted from Lem. It had taken no small measure of convincing to get his uncle to agree. But Lem needed to know he was safe. Travil had left detailed instructions on how to find them, a condition Shemi had insisted upon, and he’d made Lem recite the directions from memory. Of course, going to Gath would bring them closer to Ralmarstad. Under the circumstances, Travil might decide it was better to go elsewhere. If so, Shemi would be sure to leave word on how to find them. And from the conversations he’d had with Mariyah, she would not do anything else until she at least knew where Shemi was. They had gone through so much together, and it was clear she felt enormous guilt for bringing him with her.

Shemi aside, Lem was grateful to be recovering his balisari. It was all he had left of home … and his mother. It didn’t seem real that the instrument he had plucked away at as a child, thrown over his back countless times on his way to a festival or celebration, held more value than everything in Vylari. Then again, had people known that he was playing a balisari crafted by power of the ancient bards and used for the creation of magic, likely they’d have taken it and cast it into the Sunflow.

Mariyah was eager to see if they could combine their powers and was excited to learn that he’d been given a book containing Bard magic. But Lem remained wary. There was nothing to guide them; no indication as to the purpose behind the spells. While true that Bard magic was said to be benign, there was no guarantee of this. It was Bard magic that had enabled Belkar to come to power. Lem and Mariyah could inadvertently cause tremendous harm. Of course, this was assuming they could combine their power in the first place. He’d seen Mariyah cast a few simple spells since their escape from Belkar’s clutches, and while each had its own unique tempo and timbre, the mechanics of them were a mystery. It was like trying to learn to weave a quilt with a ball of yarn and no instruction or even an example to go by. Given time, Lem was sure he could figure it out. But time was not a thing they had in abundance. It could very well come down to making random attempts, hoping to stumble onto something useful. But for the time being, he thought it best to wait until all other options were exhausted—not that they had many.

Mariyah passed the reins over to Lem. If Ralmarstad has landed armies in Ubania and Gothmora, they’ll move on the other city states first.

Will they fight back?

Mariyah shrugged. I couldn’t say. But I doubt it. None have more than city guards to mount a defense with. A few Thaumas might be willing to fight if they find themselves trapped. Not enough to stop them, though.

Lem urged the wagon forward with a snap of his wrist and a click of the tongue. With the Archbishop in exile, there’s nothing standing in their way, then. He noticed Mariyah had lowered her head, and her hands were clasped tightly in her lap. Still thinking about Loria?

No. She turned her head to give Lem a dire look. Belkar. If Ralmarstad is attacking, it means he’s free.

Lem felt a chill race through his body. So he’s coming?

"I don’t know. Not yet I think. If he was, I would … feel it."

How long do you think we have?

She shook her head, returning her gaze downward. I don’t know. If I understood the magic that imprisoned him better, I might be able to say. I know enough to tell you that breaking free would have left him weak. He’ll need time to recover, and more to bring his army through the breech. She slammed her foot into the floorboards. I’m so stupid!

Lem was taken aback by her sudden outburst. What’s wrong?

We should never have left the mountain.

Why not?

Mariyah’s face was flush and her jaw tight. But she did not reply. Why should they have stayed? Surely Belkar would have killed them both if they had. He wanted to press her, but knew enough not to. When Mariyah was angry, it was better to wait until she had time to calm down, and particularly when she was angry with herself. Hot-blooded was how her mother frequently described her. But Lem had detected a change. It was subtle, but noticeable nonetheless. Between Lem and Mariyah, Mariyah had always been the more focused and capable. And while her temper did occasionally get her in trouble, more often than not she was the one her friends would look to when disagreements arose. It was the same with her family. A perfect blend of her father’s tenacity and her mother’s insight and empathy. Certainly she had matured. So had he. But the change in Mariyah was somehow deeper; more profound. It was as if she were in constant conflict with herself, the interlocutor a hidden voice with which she did not always agree.

It took Mariyah more than an hour to break from her melancholy.

I was thinking about what to do when this is all over, Mariyah remarked, reaching over to slip her arm around Lem. I think I’d like to travel with you while you play.

Lem leaned his head against hers. You don’t want to go home?

Long enough to see my parents, she replied. But I don’t think I could go back. It wouldn’t be the same.

I think your mother would tie you to a tree before she’d let you go again.

She’ll understand. It’s Father I worry about. She leaned up and cocked her head at Lem. "Do you really want to go home?"

Lem thought for a moment. I don’t know. When I left, I thought that I’d never be able to return, even if I tried. After all, the barrier would stop me.

I can get us past the barrier.

If I did want to go back to Vylari… He paused until she met his gaze. Would you come with me?

Mariyah laughed softly and gave him a gentle kiss. "Of course I would. But do you think you can go back?" she asked. Her smile remained, but there was a touch of sadness in her voice.

I … I don’t know. Now that you’re here, I don’t really care where I am. Shemi has Travil, so he doesn’t need me.

I think Shemi would have something to say about that.

Shemi deserves a life of his own, Lem said.

And you don’t think he could have one with you there?

Lem felt a tightness in his gut. It wouldn’t be me. Not the me he knew. I kept him with me far longer than I should have.

Neither of us are the same as we were when we left, Mariyah said. Vylari is a world within a world. Unchanging. Cut off. Like a flower sealed in glass, unable to grow, unable to die. Unable to spread its pollen and pass on its beauty.

Lem had never thought of it that way. For him, Vylari was the embodiment of what life should be. The people were kind, for the most part, and took great pleasure in the simple things that invariably passed unheeded in Lamoria—like the distinct aroma of wet grass after a light rain or the lonely call of an owl at dusk. But Mariyah was right to say it was unchanging. Still, Lem had no desire to see it change. That Vylari was at that very moment exactly as it was the day he crossed the barrier was a great comfort.

Mariyah climbed into the back, rummaged around for a few minutes, and then returned holding a map of Lamoria she had purchased a few days prior.

If we hurry, she said, running her finger over the paper, we might make it to the enclave ahead of Loria.

Though he had suggested it, Lem was unsure how wise it was going there. He was a Bard. A real Bard. Despite Mariyah’s assurances that the Thaumas would not try to harm him, Lem could tell this was weighing on her mind also. He didn’t want her to be forced into a confrontation. And should the Thaumas threaten him, that was precisely what would happen.

I know the fastest routes through Syleria, he said.

Mariyah looked up from the map and smiled. Sorry. I forget sometimes how well traveled you are. This was my first trip away from Ubania. She averted her eyes and folded the map. It’s strange. Vylari is our home. I can still feel it waiting for us. But Ubania … the manor, even my room … That’s home too.

Lem gave her a sideways look. Ubania?

Mariyah nodded. Yes. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s special to me in a way not even my family’s vineyard is. It’s where I found out who I really am. What my potential is as a person.

I don’t understand, Lem said. They imprisoned you there. Forced you to serve against your will. Even though Lady Camdon had freed her, it didn’t change the manner in which Mariyah had been brought. Or that other innocent people in Ubania were not so fortunate as to have someone like Lady Camdon pay for their indenture.

I know. But I was also forced to face my fears … and conquer them.

You dealt with it better than I would have, he said.

She tossed the map into the back and leaned her head on his shoulder. I think you might surprise yourself. She lifted her eyes to his. Do you think I’ve really changed?

Lem kissed her forehead. For the better.

Mariyah straightened and frowned. I mean it, Lem. Have I changed to you?

Lem sighed. I’m not sure how to answer.

Honestly.

"That’s not what I mean. I don’t know how to answer you. I’m not good with words like you are."

Then do your best, she said.

Lem thought for a long, careful moment. You are the same person I’ve always known. But you’re also a person I’ve never known. I see you and think about how much you’ve had to endure to survive. When you told me about the men you killed just before Belkar captured you, I was shocked … but then, I wasn’t. Or how you are able to tease out secrets from the Ubanian nobles and use the information as leverage. My mind tells me that I shouldn’t be surprised. How many times did you catch people trying to swindle your father? You’ve always been able to read the intentions of others. He paused, searching for the words to express what he was thinking. My mother told me just before she died that one day you would become a woman. That I shouldn’t expect you to be a little girl forever. If I did, I would never be able to love you the way you needed to be loved, and one day, I’d wake up and a stranger would be looking back at me. I didn’t understand what she meant at the time. But I think I do now.

Lem reached out and took her hand. "I want to be the man you need me to be. And the man you want me to be. When I was the Blade of Kylor, I thought I could only be one and not the other. That I was being who you needed so that you could be free. But doing so meant I could never be who you wanted."

I hope you know that’s not true, she said.

I do. That’s why I understand what my mother meant. The girl I knew will always be a part of you. But the woman you’ve become is so much more. She is stronger, smarter, more resourceful, kinder and yet harsher. Her anger is greater and yet tempered with far more self-control. She has seen things that would have sent the young girl you were weeping into a corner.

Sometimes I did, she said, smiling and wiping her eyes free of unexpected tears.

I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I wasn’t there to watch you become the woman you are. This is my first time meeting her.

And now that you’ve met me? More tears fell, though not tears of sorrow.

I still feel the way I did on the first day we met: lucky.

Mariyah snatched the reins away and pulled the wagon to an abrupt halt, leaving Lem looking startled. But before he could ask what was wrong, she pulled him in for a long, crushing kiss. The sudden show of affection took Lem aback for a moment. But he quickly recovered and returned the kiss fully.

When their lips parted, he smiled at her. What was that for?

Being lucky, she said.

They continued for a time, the mood one of optimism and contentment. It was in the moments their hearts were closest that the danger approaching from all sides felt distant. It was in these brief respites that Lem found himself able to think about the future in a way that did not feel as if he were lying to himself.

About four miles from Throm, they saw a row of conical tents lining either side of the road. Several Lytonian soldiers were stopping wagons and pedestrians, with some turning back, others continuing on their way.

A young woman in civilian attire approached their wagon, wearing a serious expression.

Are you residents? she asked.

I am, Lem replied. What’s happening here?

Then you’ll need to provide your name and address to the sergeant before you’re allowed to cross the town border, she said, ignoring Lem’s question.

Mariyah leaned across to say something, but Lem’s hand on her arm had her reluctantly holding her tongue.

Best not to cause a stir, Lem said. Let’s just get my things, see if Shemi is still here, and go.

It was hard for Mariyah to let unwarranted rudeness go unanswered. That much had not changed.

The sergeant up ahead did not find his name on the town registry. Not surprising, given that he rented the apartment on a monthly basis. Fortunately one of the city guards who was aiding the soldiers recognized him.

Why all the commotion? Lem asked.

The guard looked at him incredulously. You can’t be serious? Ralmarstad is coming. Every town between here and the capital is evacuating.

Do you know my uncle—Shemi? Lem asked. When the guard didn’t show any sign of recognition, he added: He’d be with Travil.

"Oh, Shemi. Yeah. I think I did. Can’t say when, though. So much going on and all. Probably gone by now. Most everybody is. Only a few stragglers left. And folks like you just returning."

Where are people going? Mariyah asked.

East, for the most part. I hear the whole Lytonian army is mustering. The Sylerians too. These chaps were sent to see that everyone gets out in time. Nowhere near the sea is safe. He blew out a breath. Guess I’ll be hanging up my guard uniform soon and joining in.

The guard handed Lem a temporary pass, should he be stopped and questioned, and waved them through.

You think they could really be coming so soon? Lem asked.

Mariyah shrugged. What little I know about warfare is from books. But it would take a long time to muster an army large enough to attack Lytonia.

Lem considered this as the wagon slowly trundled forward. She was right; a sizable enough force would take time to assemble. Not only that but they would need the ships to transport them. He’d assumed that Ralmarstad would attack Garmathia and continue west to Xancartha.

There are some small islands northwest of Lobin, Lem said. You think they could have launched the attack from there?

Couldn’t say. I guess it doesn’t really matter. So long as we stay ahead of them.

Lem was reluctant to correct her. But if they launched from the islands, it means they could land anywhere. For all we know, they’re on their way here as we speak.

She took his point. Then we need to get rid of the wagon.

Once in town, they found that the guard had been correct. Only a few people were about, mostly shopkeepers and a few residents furiously loading wagons in a mad scramble to evacuate. To his dismay, the apartment he and Shemi had rented was empty and Judd’s home was abandoned. They hurried to where Travil had told him he lived—a small house with a workshop in the rear at the south end of town. But it was empty too.

Mariyah was deeply disappointed not to have caught Shemi in time. You think he took your things with him?

Losing his balisari was a blow. Lem forced an unconvincing smile. It doesn’t matter. I can get another one. In truth, it was the only thing I had of any worth. The rest was just clothes.

Mariyah placed a hand on his shoulder. I’m sure he has it. She could tell he was upset. She could always tell what he was feeling and knew he was being intentionally dismissive to hide the pain of the loss. Even were it not his mother’s, a balisari would be difficult to find.

It was getting late and the inn was closed, so they decided to sleep on the floor of his old apartment. Lem scrounged up a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine from a shoemaker who was just readying to depart and, along with some dried figs and jerky from their provisions, they had a quiet meal on the