The Brightest Shadow, page 17
"Do we need to send out so many expeditions? Can't we just wait until the bastard goes away?"
"It would disrupt Bundlin's economy. Right after the short rainy season is the best time to hunt wild game, and the short dry season is unpredictable before..."
"Ugh, don't remind me of the long rains." Iralin made a disgusted face. "When I was first sent here, I thought I'd love some rain keeping down all the dust, but I was wrong. I'd give an eye to be somewhere with normal seasons."
Large regions of Fareshel and Eltar Trathe also had rainy and dry seasons, but Kolanin knew better than to argue with Iralin at times like this. "We might need to suffer the disruption, if it's necessary. Casualties are high, reinforcements cause new problems, and the injuries take a toll. In your professional opinion as a healer, should we limit outside expeditions?"
"Does my opinion matter? This is obviously a military issue now."
"Iralin..."
Her face was dangerously neutral before she turned away from him, not answering. Instead she moved to her pot of tea and extended a finger into the boiling water, swirling more sein through the mix and making the smell even sharper. Kolanin sighed and leaned back in the chair, but no position felt comfortable.
"I don't consider it a military issue," Kolanin said. "The orders we get from Orphos, even those from Aryabaus, are just abstractions. They'll come and cause trouble, just like the human rumors, but they'll pass without making much difference. What matters is who we keep alive through the fighting, and if the peace falls apart."
She didn't answer at first, slowly pouring some of the tea into a cup and taking a sip. Once she spoke, however, her voice wasn't so flat. "I spoke to some of the local healers, and they aren't having the same problems. If we keep sending out hunters, we'll keep getting dead bodies. Can we send humans instead?"
"Hmm. Possibly." It wouldn't make the soldiers as nervous as using humans for military matters, certainly, so it was a worthwhile thought. Given how stretched thin they were, it made sense to use them however he could, even if it wasn't the best use of their skills.
"Do you want some neth?" Iralin held up a second cup as a bit of a peace offering, but Kolanin had to refuse. Given how inactive he had been, tea that sharp would only make him jittery.
"Thank you, but no. I will think about your suggestion."
With that, he rose and left at a brisk walk. Speaking with Iralin had refocused him, but he still needed some time to think before submerging himself in the paperwork again. Kolanin responded to the nods he received from soldiers he passed without thinking, heading south along the river.
Once he left the core of the city, he watched the humans setting up their shacks and tents beside the river, huddling alongside it just like the trees. Not long ago, that channel had been completely flooded by the short rains. It amazed him that there could be a whole class of people who lived so precariously. Now they were setting up their homes again even though it would be only be a few months until the long rains.
The constant shifting of the slums struck him as wasteful, even irrational, but Kolanin had long ago accepted that many of his instincts were wrong here. This was central Breilin. It might not be as savage as many believed elsewhere, but it was an empty space with few traditions, just the clash of different human cultures.
Could the slums by the river be a security threat? Kolanin folded his arms behind his back as he stared out over the shacks, considering the possibilities. If it was simple malcontents, the river itself would likely be too much of an obstacle. If the problem came from a real threat, like the Coran resistance, they would have warriors trained enough to either swim the river or leap the walls. Best to leave the custom alone, then, since it seemed to fulfill a role.
"Taking a walk, commander?" The deep voice didn't surprise him, as Kolanin had been vaguely aware of Hakkiv approaching, so he merely turned to give the man a respectful nod.
Hakkiv was one of the new Catai he had been sent. Unlike most Towd, he always wore a full uniform, the gray contrasting with the blue of his skin. It must have been unpleasant in the heat, but it actually made him look more imposing. He didn't seem to expect a response from Kolanin, instead looking out across the river.
"This place is more like home than I thought. Trading and shit. Before I got sent out here, rumor was it was all fighters." Hakkiv spat down into the river.
"Not quite," Kolanin said. "There has been significant violence between some of the human groups, but the Chorhan Expanse was never really at war. Not war as we think of it."
"They have some tough ones, though. I'd love a crack at some of them. Not that they'll stand and fight. But these new rumors about Heroes, or the armored bastards I hear about down south... oh, and those 'Four Winds' the dark-haired ones talk about. Could be a rough fight."
"If they choose to fight us." That was the most he would try to change Hakkiv's mind, since he could always command the man if necessary. It was true that they didn't have the forces to challenge more powerful forces. Though Coran informants spoke scornfully about the Rhen Four Winds, Kolanin suspected that they might be true masters.
But it seemed Hakkiv had different thoughts, folding his arms over his chest before speaking. "I've always wondered... why can't the Zeitai just take care of this problem? They could kill all the worst enemies in a few days, right? Just get somebody to voidwalk them around the world, kill off the strong humans. Then we wouldn't have to be out here this long."
"The Zeitai have their own affairs."
"Yeah, that's what I hear." Hakkiv turned to stare down at him. "But that's a bullshit answer and you know it. They help out elsewhere. This place just not worth their time?"
"They handle the most difficult problems, Hakkiv. If you see a Zeitai here, that means everything has gone to hell. Believe me, their absence is a good sign." Kolanin left unsaid that it might be better to never see them at all. The answer seemed to satisfy Hakkiv, who grunted and nodded. Using a mild profanity with men like that often gained some respect. Though Kolanin felt like a manipulative fraud every time he did it, he needed his Catai loyal and on the same page.
It was true that they had multiple military problems, however. Kolanin said farewell and headed down the river, considering the issues. He was fairly certain that both attacks on the Teralanthan munitions had been from the Coran resistance, which meant the group was strong and well-informed. The Rhen tribes could also cause trouble if they went to war, and Aryabaus might draw more violence.
Then there was this Hero.
Kolanin set those thoughts aside and focused on what truly mattered. They wouldn't need to fight any Rhen if they could extend the truce long enough to make peace. More important than any battles were the trade agreements with Estronese merchants, who were nervous about the increasing instability. So many entangled problems...
But there wasn't much hope of significant assistance from anyone at all, much less the Zeitai. From reports, Kolanin knew that the raiders in the Sotunn Mountains were proving intractable, and beyond them war was brewing between the northern human nations. Politics remained more stable to the south, but it was whispered that the humans had managed to kill a Zeitai candidate before he could ascend.
And looking further... brewing problems in Fareshel, divisions back on Orphos, Onel Chaentan being as strange as always, total war in Younten Trathe and threatened in parts of Eltar Trathe...
Thinking beyond the continent was too much for him. Bundlin was too much for him.
He reached the city wall before thinking of solutions to any of his problems, of course. Kolanin stared at it for a time, not really thinking at all. Then he sighed and leapt up to the top to stare out over the grasslands beyond. Normally he used the stairs, not wanting to draw attention to himself, but today the cramped staircase would have just tired him.
Kolanin walked along the city wall, looking at nothing in particular. The men he passed straightened and saluted to him. Perhaps he could excuse this walk as an inspection, then, and hope it had a positive effect on morale. A bitter smile twitched across his lips as he considered that this random wandering might do more good than the rest of his work.
Perhaps it would be best to try Iralin's idea. Though reports suggested that this Hero killed humans sometimes, his target was unquestionably the mansthein forces. A group of trusted humans might be able to at least begin the necessary hunting without drawing the same sort of risk.
By the time he had decided that this plan might work, Kolanin realized that he had walked an appreciable fraction of the walls. He stood near one of the main gates now, so he spent a while watching the people move through it. They'd grown accustomed to soldiers staring down at them from above and did not look up to notice him.
After a time, Kolanin turned to look outward again. He noticed the area that some used for training and, on a whim, jumped off the wall to investigate. Though he had never been there himself, he was told that many of the young human warriors used it. Perhaps he would even meet some of the people he needed to speak with, avoiding the trouble of summoning them to the other side of the river or arranging a meeting on the human side.
There were quite a few humans there, primarily Coran men wrestling in the ring of dirt. Mostly young men, not the older warriors who might be a threat to his forces. Still, the nervous energy he felt in the crowd made him anxious, even before he was noticed and many of the humans began glowering at him and he heard whispers of "Deathspawn."
To avoid a confrontation, Kolanin shifted away from the group. Fortunately, one of the few people he needed to talk to was nowhere near the main crowd.
Melal was struggling to walk between two points marked with stones. Each of his arms strained to hold up several large rings of stone around them. A traditional Coran exercise, Kolanin understood, and a reasonable one for developing strength. The rings looked to be of the ancient stone and were likely heavy for someone of Melal's level of skill.
"You wanna talk?" Melal noticed him and managed to grunt out the words. "Let me do two more!"
"That's fine, I'm not in a hurry." Kolanin watched him reach the end, then turn around and begin making his way back.
The boy really was strong, both in body and in sein. Yet he had clearly devoted himself to strength above all else, leading to an unstable foundation of training, one that should have been corrected years ago. Strength alone was useless, particularly in the absence of speed and skill. At worst, the unbalanced sein could lead to injury, as the body was unable to sustain the levels of strength that were required. Kolanin's instinct was to warn him, but he recognized that his words would not be welcomed.
At last Melal reached the marking stones. He let out an unnecessarily loud roar and dropped the rings of stone off his arms so they crashed against one another dramatically. The reason why became obvious when he received respectful nods from some of the nearby human men and playful glances from some of the Coran women who had come to train.
Well, the boy was young. A certain level of immaturity was to be expected, and the young always sought glory. What mattered was that he was willing to return to Kolanin and talk.
"Yeah, what is it?"
"I have an important assignment for human warriors," Kolanin said. "The duusha hunts are failing because too many mansthein can't survive the conditions, due to bandits and other problems. I need strong warriors to support the next hunt."
"Then I'm your man!" Melal jabbed a thumb at his chest and flexed. "I've been getting a lot stronger. I can take on whatever's causing you trouble!"
"Very good. I'll be asking some others as well, so I'll let you know once the journey is planned." His gaze flickered over the crowd, looking for others who might be good candidates, which made him change his mind. There was a more important question. "What motivated all this intense training?"
"Just eager to do our part! Bundlin is our home too, so with you mansthein getting injured, we want to help defend it!"
Obviously a lie. Melal was grinning at him, but the boy couldn't come close to faking an authentic smile. Kolanin smiled neutrally in response, wondering as to his intent. If he held the same animosity as the others at the training ground, then perhaps he was trying to hide it. Still, he had said "mansthein" instead of "Deathspawn", which was a first for him in Kolanin's hearing.
"We're grateful for your assistance." Kolanin turned his gaze further, surprised that he still hadn't seen the other two. "Have you seen Slaten or Tani here? I intended to ask them as well."
"The Rhen girl, I haven't seen in a long time. But Slaten is around the side of the rocks. Said things were getting too crowded for him." Melal jerked his head in the proper direction. Kolanin thanked him and they went separate ways, false smiles laid on thick.
Despite everything, Kolanin had high hopes for Melal. The boy hated his kind, but his hate was a petty sort of prejudice that Kolanin hoped could be eroded in time. Melal had accepted the loss of his position as a minor noble and blended in with the other Corans, which showed signs of adaptability. Above all, he was young. Provided his life didn't end early, he could grow out of his youthful impulses and become a man who could make peace between mansthein and Corans.
Those were long term concerns, however, and Kolanin needed humans for his hunting trip soon. He headed around the side of the cluster of stones at a walk, resisting the urge to simply go over the top and remind the hostile crowd of his skill.
On the other side, he came into view of Slaten. Though he was little older than Melal, Kolanin rarely thought of him as a boy in the same way. When Slaten had arrived in Bundlin, he had obviously seen a great deal of violence already. His commitment to set aside his sword and take up a more useful path of healing and diplomacy had impressed Kolanin.
It was obvious that Slaten had taken up the sword again, metaphorically and literally. He held a wooden practice sword in both hands, completely still, then lunged into a strike against the boulder in front of him. The blow landed solidly, but the sein in his blow prevented the wooden sword from breaking. His form was good, and the Oken technique was clearly one polished by many generations.
Kolanin's appreciation quickly cooled as he watched Slaten practice the same two movements, over and over. One slash, one thrust. He was obviously trying to master both strikes, maintaining a grim intensity as he sharpened his skills. Though he seemed more comfortable here on the training grounds than he ever had as a healer, Kolanin still felt a twinge of disappointment.
Strikes like that were how someone might plan to kill a Catai. Though Slaten lacked the strength to do so, such focused blows would be the easiest way to break through the wall of trained muscle and sein. He also had the dedication to develop himself to that point one day. His face revealed little but concentration, yet Kolanin found himself concerned.
Was it possible that Slaten would be more of a threat than Melal? He had seemed disturbed by the attack of the Hero, not inspired, but Kolanin knew little of the boy's thoughts since the incident. The idea that he might end up fighting against them was troubling. Melal's hatred was fleeting, but if Slaten came to hate, his hatred would be intense and enduring.
Of course, it was impossible to know how any person would develop, and time always seemed to hold surprises. Would anyone who trained with Kolanin in Ith Silvaros have guessed that he would end up as a military commander in the middle of nowhere, trying to make peace with humans?
At that moment, the wooden sword shattered with a loud crack. Slaten's control had faltered after the repeated blows, which was unsurprising for sustained practice. After a pause, Slaten tossed the pieces aside and then turned to pick up another practice sword from a pile by the boulders.
In the process he noticed Kolanin watching. There was a hard emotion in his gaze, but not hatred. Something closer to despair.
"I'm sorry to interrupt." Kolanin walked closer and glanced toward the scarred boulder. Slaten shook his head and dropped the sword back into the pile.
"I'm mostly exhausted anyway, so I need time to recover."
"Training too much can do more harm than good, yes. I'm here to ask you to use those skills in a different way." Kolanin quickly explained about the hunt and Slaten nodded his agreement silently. It seemed to drag him from the cold and focused place of his training, so Kolanin decided to ask his other question. "Have you seen Tani recently?"
"She's training on her own. Do you want me to ask her?"
"Yes, unless you feel that she still needs time. I understand that she saw many of her allies killed during the incident, so I would like to give her time to recover."
Slaten shook his head slowly. "You don't really recover. Not after seeing something like that."
Of the reports of the incident, Slaten's had been least useful: numb and empty. Kolanin wanted to ask him again, actually opened his mouth, then decided against it. He had already spent months investigating the matter and the Legend remained a whisper in the wind, lacking detail and yet still powerful in the minds of everyone.
Perhaps powerful because it lacked detail.
Kolanin remained there a while longer, then abruptly turned and headed back to his office. He had a great deal of work to do.
Chapter 11
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"The Red Warrior was raised by kind parents and trained by wise masters, yet a seed of twisted pride lurked within him. If a man spilled his soup, the Red Warrior would demand a fight for his honor. If a woman bumped into him on the path, the Red Warrior would demand a fight for his honor. He responded to any slight against his honor by disgracing the honor of others. Yet in fighting, he grew strong."
- excerpt from the Tale of the Red Warrior, a popular Nelhae story
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Ever since the rains, a haze had choked the streets of Bundlin. Tani had been grateful for the cool mist for exactly one morning before it became unbearably humid. Though the air had grown dry again, the oppressive haze seemed to hang over everyone. Even before dawn, it gripped her as soon as she went outside.
