Priestess of War (The Bowl of Souls Book 10), page 12
Shade trembled in anger at his audacity, but the steward stayed his tongue.
Aloysius cocked his head. “I am beginning to wonder if I have any control over you left at all. Tell me truthfully, Stranger. Is the magic of my sword still affecting you in any way?”
“In a sense it is,” Matthew said. “The magic compels me to answer you truthfully, as you just requested. It also keeps your previous commands in force. For instance, the blood magic and demon races are still far more fertile than I would ever recommend.”
“And yet, you did not fully answer my question,” the gnome observed. “Ever since that debacle at the treaty, your pallor has changed. Your attitude has changed. You even seem to have some of your master’s approval back. What else has changed? In what ways can you disobey me that you could not before?”
“I do not look for ways to disobey you. I look for ways to help you.” Matthew removed the pipe from his lips. “In answer to your question, I do believe that if you asked me to stab myself again I would refuse to do so. I also believe that if you threatened to kill another in order to force my hand, I could find a way to thwart you. However, I am not able to deny any reasonable request.”
Aloysius blinked. “And what have you done, that makes the Creator willing to forgive you so quickly.”
“I have suffered,” Matthew said. “You do not know the depths of the pain I felt as I was forced to face the results of my many failures. Still, suffering is not what my Master demands. He has seen what only He can see. He knows how much my heart has changed.”
The gnome chuckled in disbelief. “Tell me, Stranger. Could you remove that sword from your back?”
“I could,” he said. “If my Master willed it.”
“Then do it,” Aloysius said. This was a key test of the magic. Those who were pierced by the sword were forever unable to remove it by themselves. Even if commanded by the sword’s owner.
“I will not,” Matthew said. “The sword is not mine to remove. You will be the one to remove it once you are ready to accept me as your equal.”
“Equal?” Aloysius said, astonished at the Stranger’s audacity.
Matthew shrugged. “Also, if you must know, I have always been plagued with an itch in the center of my back. I can never quite reach it on my own. Talon could attest to you that I am always needing it scratched. Right now? No itch.”
“And your humor has returned as well.” Aloysius shook his head. “Stranger, you are truly an indomitable foe. Do not think, however, that I will fall prey to your tricks. I will not withdraw that sword. To do so would be to show weakness to all of my subordinates. If the proof of my control over you is gone, my alliance with the demons is gone.”
“You believe I am tricking you?” Matthew said.
“You attempt to. Otherwise you would have removed that sword,” the gnome observed. “I know you, Stranger. Your tendencies are well documented. Your pride would not allow you to be subservient to anyone if you could help it.”
Matthew returned the pipe to the corner of his mouth and took a short puff. “I don’t doubt that you have likely studied every word you could find about me. Likely every published word. But not every word was written.”
“Truly?” said Aloysius and his tone wasn’t one of disbelief, but of curiosity. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Very well,” the Stranger replied. He pursed his lips thoughtfully “May we sit? This is a very old tale and these two chairs are going to waste.”
The gnome warlord smiled. “Please do.”
They sat in the plush chairs and Matthew steepled his fingers before him. “The beginning of this civilization was not the true beginning.”
“Many scholars have suggested that this was the case. Strange artifacts have been found that seem to predate any written era,” Aloysius said. “Kobalds find uncounted mysteries in their tunneling.”
“When the Creator called his prophets, this world was in ruins; a burnt husk of its former self.”
“Tell me a story of the previous world,” Aloysius said, his visage eager.
“Ever a scholar. What a stir you could make in your community with information like that,” Matthew said. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me when I was most under your sword’s sway. Unfortunately, I am not allowed to speak of that time. Besides, the story I have to tell is more pertinent to the information you need to know.
“Now, as I was saying, the Creator pulled us from untold horrors. Out of all the crumbled world’s poor survivors, why He picked us, He will never say. But each of us had a particular talent that shone brightly. David was the sly one. John, the compassionate one. I-.”
“What of the fourth?” Aloysius interrupted. “Tell me of her.”
Matthew sighed. “You truly do know everything written on us. Even, it seems, things I had thought eradicated. The fourth is, again, something I am not allowed to speak of. Particularly to you. To do so would be disastrous.”
The gnome leaned back in his chair, his mind examining every word. “I had to ask. Go ahead with your tale.”
“Well, while the world recovered and the races were formed, we were taught much at our Master’s knee. It was during this time that our bonds with him were given and our powers gained. When He deemed the world ready, we were given our responsibilities. Each of us were placed over the races that could most use our particular talents.
“David was assigned the goblinoids because of their devious nature and tendency for violence. His cunning would be needed to gain their trust. John was assigned to the humans. They, with their short lives and talents in areas good and evil, needed someone with his depth of compassion. It was evident early on that they could be the most easily destroyed, or perhaps, be the greatest menace of all.
“As for me,” Matthew hesitated. “I never did tell you my talent. Do you know what it was?”
“You were the smart one,” Aloysius said.
“And I was confident in my intelligence,” Matthew agreed. “He gave me perhaps the hardest task, The Blood Magic and Demon Races, and it took me to my limits. My charges were the most dangerous but the least numerous.”
“I know all this,” Aloysius said. “You tried many ways to keep us in check. You tried ruling over us like David did with his goblinoids. You tried gently guiding us like John. In the end, you chose to harry us from a distance. This was perhaps your most successful attempt, but in the end, also a failure.”
“There is truth in what you say,” Matthew admitted. “However, that’s not the part of the tale that is pertinent at the moment. You see, early on I knew that I needed to focus more on particular races than others. The elves and merpeople were hardy, but withdrawn. The dwarves and kobalds were industrious but not inclined to conquer.
“The dragons and bandhams were capable of intelligence, but rarely used it. They had enmity with each other from the beginning, which kept their numbers in check. In fact, the balance this relationship created is what gave me the idea for the plan I have been enacting for the last thousand years. But I am getting ahead of myself again.
“My biggest problems came from the imps and the gnomes. The imps were wily and vicious, smarter and more dangerous than David’s goblinoids. The gnomes, on the other hand, were a strange dichotomy, either the smartest of all the races or the dumbest. Either the most physically inept or the most physically talented.”
“I am aware of our proclivities,” Aloysius said wearily.
Matthew continued anyway, “In both cases, they were unable to fend for themselves. I tried many things. I begged my Master for help on the issue. For a time I even wondered if a race this inept deserved to be saved. This is when I received the prophecy that Shade so clumsily tried to refer to earlier,” he said, glancing at the still-kneeling steward.
“It was at this time that I learned why the gnome race was so crucial. I saw into the future, just glimpses of the bits He needed me to know. Once in every era, a gnome warlord would be born, someone with the skill of the scholar and warrior, and even more importantly, someone who had the ability to focus on many things at once.
“Now each gnome warlord would be born with a special intended task and each one was talented in some ways more than others. The first loved battle above all and his leadership was crucial to quell the Great Imp Uprising. The second had talents split straight down the middle. She came at the Time of the Warlords. You know how crucial she was to the world. In both these cases, I was at their sides. I was their guide.”
“You were their instructor,” Aloysius corrected, leaning forward, bitterness in his voice. “You raised them. You directed them. You commanded them. And you wish to do the same to me. I know.”
“That was perhaps true for the first. I was trying David’s way at the time. But it is not true of the second. I held back. I advised her only,” Matthew insisted. He looked Aloysius directly in the eye. “I saw your coming on the same day I saw the others. And like the others, your talents are unique. You have the skill for battle, but that just gave you the thirst to learn about it. Your greatest asset is your mind. I knew something about you way back then. Something that I found hard to believe at the time. You are smarter than me.”
There was perhaps nothing he could have said that would have startled Aloysius more. The gnome’s jaw dropped. “You admit this?”
“I know it to be true. When it comes to application of knowledge, you are my superior. The fact is proved by how you have come all this way without my help. With mere research alone, you recognized your worth, devised a plan, and set about making sure that you would be able to enact your part when you would be needed.”
Aloysius regained his composure quickly. “You claim to know all this and yet you ask me to see you as an equal? I think you believe that you are better than me.”
“No. I do not like some of the decisions you have made. There are aspects of what you have become that I believe are terrible. But I cannot blame you for being this way. Again, you got here alone. I neglected my duty. I should have been there at your birth. I should have taught you a moral center, but I had already distanced myself from my own. You acted intellectually based on your knowledge and experience and your only support was stewards who thought you could do no wrong. No, Warlord Aloysius, there is only one way in which I am your superior and that is experience. I offer it to you.”
Aloysius’ face tensed up. “You praise me with one hand and slap me with the other. Yet, you expect me to do your will?”
“No, Warlord. I would advise you only. As I did with the second. The fight that comes is one that you must undertake. I can help you to prepare, but you must command.”
Aloysius leaned back in his chair once again. He said nothing for quite some time, but simply looked at the Stranger and thought. Matthew let him. He eased into his chair as much as he could with the sword in his back and smoked in silence. Durza tugged on his leg, but he waved her silent.
The chamber’s flap opened and Steward Jessica’s calm face poked in. “The representatives wish to break for dinner, Warlord. May we dismiss?”
“No,” Aloysius said. “Tell them I will address them shortly.”
“Yes, Warlord,” she said and bowed her way back out.
The gnome rubbed his proud chin. “Very well, Stranger. I will allow you to continue as my advisor. I will try to heed your words even if they chafe my pride. However, I will not remove that sword from your back. As I said before, it is one thing that proves to your races that I am in charge. Their fear of you is deep. I will make commands of you from time to time that you must obey in front of them. I cannot be seen to be under your influence.”
Matthew gave him a short bow. “Your terms are understandable given the circumstances. I have but one concession to ask for. Please, when we are alone, call me Matthew. I hope that one day, I can overcome that ‘Stranger’ moniker.”
“I will think on that,” the warlord said. He seemed suddenly uneasy with the deal he had just made, but he didn’t let that distract him. “Before Oliver interrupted, you were attempting to give me council regarding my talks with the local leaders. Continue.”
Matthew smiled. “What I was saying before is that the leaders fear you. They worry that they have put a tyrant over them. In every meeting since they put you in charge, you have browbeat them and cast their objections aside without appearing to hear them. If things continue, they will abandon you. The Roo-Dan will scatter back to their villages and the merpeople are too small in number to be much help to your army.”
“And you are here to save the day?” Aloysius asked, though this time there was no bitterness in his voice.
Matthew shook his head. “Do not misunderstand me. I do believe that you can keep this collective held together. Choice words here and there should do it, something you excel at. What they need from you now is encouragement rather than harshness. If you treat them as comrades instead of vassals, they will rally back behind you. More importantly, what they need now is a victory and soon.”
“May I speak, Warlord?” Shade asked, unable to continue his obedient silence.
Aloysius nodded. “Indeed, Oliver. Stand and speak.”
Shade did so and Matthew found it a remarkable feat that he did not wobble after kneeling so long. “He says they need a victory. A victory against what? We have two enemies now, each one more formidable than we should attack with our current numbers.”
“Go on,” the gnome prodded.
“In my opinion, this situation is not worth mending. Sure, we could stay down here and, with your intellectual might, we could defeat both of them, but for what gain? We would likely be left with an army so depleted it’s not worth bringing back with us!”
“He speaks wisdom,” Matthew agreed, “if coming back to Alberri with a conquering army was your lone goal in your endeavor here. But you never think so simply. That was just one facet of your plan, was it not?”
“You think you know my mind?” the gnome said.
“You wouldn’t come this way if that was your only goal. You could buy an army if that was the case, but you know that you can’t build your empire by conquering alone. You need to be seen as legitimate to the rest of the known lands. A united Malaroo does that for you. Otherwise there is only a series of pointless wars in your future. Endless lives lost just to build your power and put down the eventual rebellions that will come. What will you have left when the battle you were born to fight arrives?”
Shade snorted. “Those words sound grand, but they don’t match with what you said before. A fight here means lives lost. I suggest we leave.”
“When I said the people needed a victory I wasn’t speaking of a victory in battle,” Matthew said. “And leaving Malaroo now is not possible. If you do that you could lose everything.”
“How?” Shade demanded.
“He is right, Oliver,” Aloysius said. “Abandoning our effort here is not an option. I made an error in my calculation with Mellinda. I suspect that her goal now is the same as it ever was. She wishes to destroy the Jharro Grove and her small trollkin army is about to swell by 30,000 troops. The Roo-Tan will lose if they fight alone.”
Matthew nodded. “And then you won’t have a world worth protecting on your prophesied day. Your only hope is to somehow get the Roo-Tan back to the treaty table. That is the kind of victory that will keep your Mer-Dan collective together. Then, with Malaroo’s combined armies at your disposal, you can set your mind to destroying Mellinda and the Troll Mother.”
“Rebuilding that treaty will be impossible,” Shade said. “The Roo-Tan think we betrayed them.”
“And in a way, they are right,” Aloysius admitted. “But there is hope. Xedrion is proud, but he is a reasonable man. He will likely ask for concessions in the treaty, though.”
“But will he even agree to meet?” Shade asked.
“You will need to surprise him,” Matthew said. He gestured to Durza and the sleeping Talon. “That is why I asked you to let my servants join us here.”
Chapter Eight
Fist fell.
His stomach rose in his chest. The wind whipped past his plummeting body as the ground far below rose up to meet him. He felt a momentary panic and disorientation before he remembered.
“This dream again,” he said.
How strange. This was the first time that the dream had begun with him falling instead of up in the clouds with his father approaching. Fist rolled over to face upwards. The sky above him was dark and full of heavy clouds. But he knew they were not clouds. A storm of enemies was ready to rain onto the earth, bringing destruction to the world below.
“You idiot!” Maryanne snapped, her voice raised so that it could be heard over the rushing wind.
He turned his head to see that the gnome was falling next to him. She was spread-eagled. Her auburn hair was streaming upwards, the long tops of her ears flapping in the wind. Squirrel stood on her back, raising a tiny sword in his hand. Electricity vibrated along the length of the blade.
“Idiot?” Fist tried to flip back over, but began tumbling end over end. His stomach lurched.
The gnome warrior cursed and tilted her body, gliding close enough to grab his arm and help him level out. She swung herself around so that she was facing him. Now both of them were hurtling towards the earth belly-first.
“Yes! You’re an idiot!” A scowl was on her pretty face. “Don’t you know a fall from this height could kill you?”
“Yes,” Fist said. “But I’ve had this dream before. So I know it won’t.”
“Don’t talk crazy at me, Fist,” Maryanne replied. “Falls are a serious thing.”
I like your dreams, Squirrel said from his perch on Maryanne’s back, swiping his electrified sword through the air. I want one of these. He grinned, exposing a mouthful of fangs. My teeth are sharp here.
“Did you come into my dream this time?” Fist asked. Squirrel had monitored his dreams before. Was it possible that Squirrel could enter his dream through the bond?
