PROLOGUE
The city will wake.
This
is the product of no prophecy on my part; it’s simply sense. Even with all I have not learned about the
Vaddi, I do know this. The day will come
when dawn ends their rest. And Otheron
will fall.
I
have no desire for this. I love my city;
I have fought hard to defend it. Yet, my
nature is not a deceptive one. I cannot
pretend away the troubles of the future any more than I can forget the problems
of the past. Would that I could.
I
do not know when. I do not know all of
the destruction that it will bring. But
I do know this:
The
city will wake.
-Tennro the Impartial,
Year One of the Division
CHAPTER ONE
Smoke rose from Otheron as Ton Visco Setter rode toward it. It created a hazy silhouette, like giant
shadow spirits of legend dancing in the sky against the backdrop of an ink-red
sunset. Visco barely noticed, intent as
he was on arriving home. His mother
would be waiting supper for him. Again.
This thought made the Ton sigh. At twenty-seven, he ought to have a wife of
his own now, and move out of his mother’s house. But there was precious little time for
courtship in his line of work; the few women he served with were tough, almost
manly. Visco wanted a girl who acted
like… well, like a girl. He sighed
again.
“What for the sad sounds?” Asked
the rider to his left. Ton Inne Jacco
was new to the service, and newer still to Otheron. His language skills were still broken, stuck
halfway between the heathen Kitter of his childhood and the sacred Kytter of
his recent years. Visco had struggled
past this barrier in order to befriend the man; however, this time he shook his
head, feigning a lack of understanding.
Visco did not want to explain.
Unfortunately for him, Inne Jacco was a perceptive man.
“For the uldern, the women,
yes?” He asked. Jacco shook his head, his tattooed facial
muscles shifting. “Too many, or too
few?”
“Too difficult,” Visco said,
choosing to respond after all. He felt
guilty for his pretended confusion before.
Seeing consternation on Jacco’s face, Visco rephrased. “Not too many, not too few—just not the right
one.”
“Who needs the right one? Try
again next time.” Visco wrinkled his
nose in disgust at Jacco’s blasphemy.
Jacco realized his mistake almost immediately. “Need right one,” he observed, contradicting
his earlier statement. “One wife, bond
for life.” He chuckled quietly. Visco assumed it was at the sound of the
rhyme.
“Yes, Jacco. Life. No trying again. No second wife to make up for the inadequacies
of the first. The way the Goddess
intended it.” Jacco nodded gravely,
tapping his forehead with four fingers in reverence.
“Qalis the Husband forgive,” he said, his personal and abbreviated form
of the penitence prayer.
“And Raiia,” Visco suggested.
“Raiia the Wife forgive,” Jacco
said, nodding and tapping his forehead again.
“Orders from Otheron!” Came a new voice, shouting. Visco turned his head toward the sound,
halting his mount behind the captain’s.
Jacco stopped just short of Visco.
“What orders?” The captain, Toni
Grae Kowers asked. The messenger said
nothing, just stretched across the gap between mounts to give Kowers a sealed
scroll.
Breaking open the seal immediately, Kowers unrolled the parchment, the
scarlet ink reflecting the dying rays of the sun. Whoever had written the orders had been in a
hurry, not even waiting for the ink to dry before sending the scroll. Visco began to chew on the inside of his
cheeks from anxiety. The captain turned.
“Setter,” he said to his second-in-command. Visco nodded slightly in response to his
name. “Take Jacco, Yella, and… oh, take
Reed. Ride around the outside of the
city. Slowly.”
“What would you have us find,
Toni?”
“Anything irregular.”
“Sir?”
“These orders come from the high priestess, Ton. Do you need further information?” Visco did not even bother to answer the Toni,
just turned to the Tons behind him.
Jacco, Yella, and Reed separated themselves from the group, steering
their mounts so that they stood behind Visco’s.
“Very good, men,” Toni Kowers
said. He nodded once to the group, then
signaled for the other men and women to follow him back to the city. Visco rode in a different direction, leading
his smaller crew to the Tons’ moat-gate.
Mother would eat without Visco
tonight.
“Nothing, Ton,” Reed
reported. The woman’s face was set in a
permanent scowl, but Visco knew by now that it was not meant for him. So he nodded to Reed as he had to the others’
similar reports and turned his steed to the right, aiming for the city gate.
“Ride on, Tons!” He shouted above the ever-stronger wind. It was fully dark now, and Visco wanted to
get his crew home.
It was just before Visco crossed
over the inner moat that he saw something irregular. He would never had noticed it if the wind had
not been holding the plant life against the city wall. But there, nestled close against the outer
wall of Otheron, was a hole in the ground that was simply too large for an
animal.
“Ride on, men,” he grunted at
his team, who were looking back at him.
He nudged his mount—a magnificent Orthox with gold and silver
plumage—nearer to the hole. Something
sparkled in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to focus on it. Snow,
he thought with an internal sigh. Raiia the Wife curse it. He shivered suddenly. It’s
just a hole in the ground, he thought, abandoning his curious inspection. Time to
go home.
As Visco rode back toward the
city, he noticed Reed lingering just inside the gate, waiting for him.
“Yes, Ton?”
“Something wrong?”
“No, Reed. It’s nothing.
Ride on.”
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