Episode 13: Graves, Open and Empty
To Lord Roberto de Flourent, Baron of Converging Streams,
In the past year, something of tremendous importance to me came into your possession.
It is a test of the character of a man to see how he faces danger in the service of honor. Only the bravest and noblest of men are willing to put his own life at risk to protect another, particularly when his only reward is obedience to his own values. Were I put to the test, I am not convinced that I am the sort of man who would risk my life simply to keep my word.
On the other hand, you appear to be just that sort of man. While I find that commendable, I do not find that it rewards you properly for the risks you take. Therefore, let me see if I may rectify that.
I assume that even in the backwater that is northeastern Yuasa lands, you have heard of the events following my wife's surrender of her title of Duchess of Touraine. Shortly after sending her resignation to the Royal Council in the care of Kyan Touraine, she sent another message with His Grace Sone Yukashii to Sone lands. This particular letter announced the engagement of our daughter Victoria Skye to His Grace's grandnephew Yuki Sone. Of course such a blessed event called for a party at the Castle of the Sea, and the Sone contingent numbered several regiments. For a while it seemed as though we might have some uninvited guests, but His Grace Yukashii's reputation as a host was sufficient to encourage them to seek their fun elsewhere.
Shortly thereafter, I found myself with a second blessing: the news that my wife was once again with child. Unfortunately, grim necessity soon required that I leave her side and head to the capital of Komaru, where I met with the Crown Prince and the Royal Council. As fortune would have it, the end result of that meeting is that I am now the Duke of Skye. I was pleased when that business concluded itself and allowed me to return to my home and my loving wife's side.
One of the responsibilities of my new title is ensuring that my domains are properly administrated. This, of course, requires the presence of loyal vassals. Thankfully, my wife has already accepted the title of Countess of the Castle of the Sea from me, and while the title is a mouthful, I am certain she will fulfill her obligations with all of the flair I have come to expect from her. While considering whom else I might grant land to, it came to me that my wife and I know a trustworthy baron of a rather unremarkable patch of northern land. I happen to hold a rather more substantial patch of farmland that contains a pair of villages and an area of hilly vineyard. It includes a villa built just after the Dream, which I am told is quite beautiful. The holding's name is Vincoeur, and if you wish, you could be its viscount.
My messenger has been instructed to wait a week while you consider my offer. I do hope that you will accept. Even if you choose not to, please do accept my plea to visit us at Castle Skye. My wife will soon be unable to travel, and she and I would both enjoy your company in the days leading up to her delivery.
Yours truly,
Duke of Skye
The County of Winterfell
Dreaming about ages long past, she awoke to screaming, and the scent of gunpowder in the air.
Violaine Yuasa's first thought was that she was still dreaming, but that her fantasy had turned into nightmare. She lifted her head from the face of the carved ash desk, blinking violet eyes still clouded from slumber. It took her an instant to realize she had fallen asleep while writing a letter to her sister, and in that instant she heard a pistol crack and another shriek from outside. Her blood froze in her veins, and she came fully awake.
Looking out her window, she saw a scene that should have remained confined to nightmare. She saw men with swords and pistols drop from the walls into the courtyard of Winterfell, her home for a dozen years. As she watched, one of the men fired his pistol into a running woman's back. Violaine watched her fall, and a mechanical corner of her mind recognized her: the groomsman's wife, Aida Beauchamp, mother of three. She loved to cook a stew of mountain tubers, goat's meat, and forest mushrooms. She had a fondness for chocolate. She was dying. She was dead.
Violaine opened the desk and drew her pistol from it. Cold as ice, she walked back to the barred window, aimed, and brought the hammer down. The pistol flared, and the murderer of Aida Beauchamp (her husband had served in Alessandro's army, and had lost his eye at Shiro Bridge; their eldest daughter was a stable girl who loved the grey speckled pony best) died.
Through the clouded moonlight, she saw the Yuasa river emblem flash on his breast. Beside him, the other ranger pointed, and called out, "She's the one we're here for! In the tower!" Violaine ducked away from the window as a volley of gunfire shattered against the marbled exterior of Winterfell.
Long before she finished reloading the pistol, she understood what had happened, why her people were dying (the middle daughter was apprenticed in the village, and should be safe; the youngest was in the nursery, which was burning). She walked to the door of her study, and opened it. Outside her door, the guard (Mitsuo Tanner, who was young, but skilled with a sword; he had proposed to the chatelaine's eldest granddaughter Rosalie, who loved roses, and wore one in her hair; her father was stern but fair and had helped search for Violaine when she had fallen from the tower, until she had been found by the miller's son Henry, who was now the guard at the front gate - stop, Violaine, stop remembering!) clenched his pike and bowed to her. Tears in her eyes, she kissed him on his cheek and sent him to his death.
In the measure of time Mitsuo Tanner's life bought her, Violaine Yuasa gathered the books she needed to hide, put on her boots and velvet cloak, and started up the stairs to the roof of the tower. Half a flight up, three of the rangers kicked open the door beneath her. Without aiming, she fired her pistol back at them. It missed, and she let it fall from her numb hand as she ran, her cloak tangling in her hair tangling in the lace of her nightgown.
They caught her on the tower, trapped her among the cold stone of the battlements. She could see the blood on their swords, and imagined it as a litany of histories etched in tiny crimson letters that she could nearly read. One of the rangers extended his hand, his firm voice telling her that her surrender would end the killings.
For the second time in her life, Violaine Yuasa pledged herself to the mists of Castle Winterfell. Her eyes tightly shut, she stepped through the embrasure and into the cold winter sky.
Christof Yuasa bowed deeply before the Duke of Alban. In a cool, strong voice, the ranger captain spoke, "All of the cult leaders have been captured or killed, Your Grace."
The Royal Council Hall
Laurent Yuasa, newest member of the Royal Council, finished reading the document and sat back down beside Faust. From across the Council Hall, Patience Touraine's voice rose like an icy wind. "Do convey to His Grace Xavior my utter fascination at his decision to bring this matter to my attention in such a fashion. I am certain I can find a proper reward for his dedication to ensuring the correct distribution of property."
Before either Yuasa had the chance to answer the elder stateswoman, a resounding bang heralded the opening of the massive entryway doors. Across the hall, Council members strained their necks or stood to identify the source of the interruption, many muttering at the temerity of the invader. The muttering ceased when Alessandro Komaru, bedecked in full regalia and with an escort of sixteen Royal Guards, came to a halt in the middle of the hall. When the Crown Prince stopped, Julien Bellatrix quickly hurried through the massed guards to stand at his side. Julien wore the gold and white stole of a Numinous over a black kimono, and looked like he had just been dragged out of bed.
Alessandro pulled the sheathed Royal Sword from his sash and brought its end down on the marble with a ringing clang. In the silence that followed, he spoke. "Nobles of the Royal Council, I have received news from the front. You have heard that we have repelled the invading serpent armies at great cost. The casualties at the Battle of Spear are even higher." He surveyed the Council Hall, his gaze as sharp as his sword, before speaking again. "If we are to avenge the lives lost at Spear, I need to know that I can count on the support of all of Komaru. I need to know that every family stands behind this effort." Speaking each word like a lash, the Crown Prince said, "I request a formal show of hands to show that the families of Komaru stand behind destroying the Aten threat. No discussion. Show me your hands. Now."
In unison, the Minamet raised their hands at once, and the Komaru waited only an instant before following. One of the few Yuasa remaining in the Council Hall began to speak, but Alessandro spun to face him and froze the words on his lips. Only one path lay before the river; the Yuasa raised their hands. Several of the Sone smiled their cat-smiles, but their hands rose as well. Finally, the Bellatrix and the Touraine grudgingly joined in, seeing the trap that was refusal as worse than the trap that was acceptance.
The Crown Prince let the nearly unanimous hands of the Royal Council remain in the air for half a minute before smiling his own cat-smile. "Good." He slipped a folded report from his kimono sleeve, and though he unrolled it, he made no pretense of needing to read the contents. "The combined army of Komaru, Minamet, and allies that attacked the city of Spear broke against the defenders. By the end of the battle, nearly every Komaran regiment on the field had taken major casualties, and the dust storms of the Black Serpents still swirled about the city." He faced the Komaru, and then the Minamet. "To those of my family and the Minamet, I send my regrets. I am certain that you have all lost someone you care about today. For my part, I have lost my cousin Sadashi Komaru. He was slain attempting to lead a final push through the priests' lines. After I am done here, I will be personally offering my condolences to his widowed wife. It saddens me that the child she bears will never know her father." The death of the man third in line for the throne only deepened the silence.
Then Alessandro murmured, "But Spear is ours."
He allowed only an instant of gasps and sighs before his commanding presence quieted the hall again. Holding the report before him, he commanded: "His Grace Faust Yuasa, Duke of Alban. His Grace Theodore Bellatrix, Duke of Bellesol. Her Grace Sidonie Sone, Duchess of O-Inari. Her Grace Patience Touraine, Duchess of Onan. Please step forward." He tilted his head over his shoulder to catch Julien's eye, "Please fill in for your father."
The three notables made their way down to the floor of the hall; none looked pleased at having been singled out in this fashion. When they stood before him, the Crown Prince took a breath, and then continued. "To these four worthy individuals, I confer the title of Marshal. You are each to ensure that your family contributes the fullness of its resources to concluding the offensive against the Aten realm. You are each to consider this purpose to be your greatest and most outstanding goal. You will succeed, because if you do not, you will face my wrath. Please consider this your way of fulfilling your promise to support the war effort in the east."
Alessandro folded the report back into his sleeve, and his posture shifted to a more casual mode. "The truth of the matter is that, to varying degrees, I'm already rather displeased with all of you. For too long, your families have treated this war like someone else's concern. Thousands of Komaru and Minamet lie dead because you couldn't be bothered to support them fully. Whether it's the preposterous war between the Sone and the Touraine, the relentless sandbagging of the Bellatrix, or the Yuasa need to butcher a sixteenth of their own numbers, your families have disappointed me." Alessandro stopped, and looked down at Violaine Yuasa's seat. Last year, he had swatted its occupant's hand with his fan. Now, it lay empty.
Alessandro sighed, tired, and returned his attention to his ducal captives. "Consider this your chance to redeem yourself. You will be assigned the helpful assistance of Yamato Komaru, who I think I can safely refer to as your Field Marshal. He will ensure that you and your families contribute to this effort in an appropriate fashion. Furthermore, I have already spoken with the Principal Light, who assures me that Julien Bellatrix, Numinous of the White Branch, will be doing his utmost to see that the Church drives this matter through to its victorious conclusion. Alnarim has personally assured me that he will take the Field Marshal's observations of intransigence just as seriously as I will."
Alessandro bowed to the new Marshals, and then bowed again to the Royal Council. While the Council searched for explanation, Alessandro turned and strode briskly towards the entry, his Guard falling in instantly behind him.
At the door, he lingered for a moment, calling back, "One last thing. The city of Spear is in the hands of the Dawning Star." Only his guards saw him swallow before he added, "And Ciarra Lacroix."
The great doors slam shut behind him.
The Eastern Furnace
A week after leaving Kiya Minamet's tomb behind, Salomon Minamet's body still ached, and he could not entirely forget the taste of locust. Traveling with the supply wagons had been uneventful, for the most part. Only a few stray bands of raiders had menaced the munitions so necessary to the armies at Spear. Most of the time, he simply sat in the front of a camel-pulled wagon, watching the sun burn blisters into his skin.
He last spoke to his companions on the raid shortly after slicing a line of black blood into the Child of the Aten's arm and fleeing the tomb with Kiya's sword. For a while, he worried that disobeying the count's orders would bring a reprimand, but so far none had come. Mostly, the others also seemed to spend their hours worrying. The general, Melisande Sone, was still deathly sick, able to do little more than swallow broth made from salted meat. Three days ago, Salomon heard that the poison in her was the same that afflicted the Crown Prince many years ago, and only the fact that Alessandro ordered his wife's physician to carry its antidote gave her any hope of surviving. The foremost of those physicians, the marquess who had joined him in the tomb, was doing scarcely better: for eight days, he had heard her coughing whenever he passed her wagon, and had seen the sticky blackness left on the rags used to smother her wracking spasms. The tired physicians had said she would grow no worse, but had little hope of her recovery while she remained confined to a caravan wagon.
Three days later, a Minamet courier passed the caravan from the west. The bone-weary rider stopped long enough to tell the Princess Consort of the events of Battle of Desert Rain, of how the horde of dead Touraine stood against the Children of Aten time and time again, falling before their magic and fury only to rise anew. Tersely, he told of the terrible toll in lives on both sides, concluded by a triumphant declaration of Komaran victory. When asked about the fate of the risen dead, he shrugged. "When the battle ended, they fell to the ground where they stood. It got very damp, and then it rained. The funny thing was, the rain was salty, like the ocean. Everything turned to horrible grey mud. We think it was a curse; you're lucky you weren't there."
After four more days, the caravan heard from the front.
Salomon spent his first day on the edge of Spear trying to get the story of what had happened there. After every major battle he had fought in, he had faced the same problem: the cut-and-thrust of the common soldier translated only poorly into the eagle's-eye view that mattered to the general and the historian. Over a tented table, he learned of the death of Alessandro Komaru's cousin Sadashi, slain in a final charge against the serpent positions. He knew that in a year, historians would think of it as a valiant sacrifice, but from the eyewitnesses, Salomon recognized it for what it was: the desperate last action of a general who saw his troops falling around him and could not bear to let them die alone. Then, he asked how Spear had fallen.
The battered Minamet veteran sitting across from him looked him in the eye. "You haven't heard? It's because we also fought alongside the dead. Ciarra Lacroix and her bloody personal cannons appeared out of this cursed desert and brought Spear to its knees."
The City of Spear
Clarissa Bey bowed before the Count of Minaval, her hair caught in a silken kerchief stained with blood. Over one arm, she held a rifle. Over the other, she held the white flag of truce beneath the rising sun banner of the Dawning Star. Most visibly of all, she carried a smile broad enough to light the night sky.
Tohru Komaru craned his neck to study the rifle, but Clarissa swept it behind the flag. "Your Excellency," she grinned and curtseyed to him. "We're so glad we could make it when we did. We would have come sooner, but it's quite a walk. My lady bids you greetings. She wants to tell you that she remembers meeting you on the evening of Alessandro's twenty-third birthday. She aimed to shake your hand, but you kissed hers instead. She thought you were too much the courtier, an opinion only strengthened when you attempted to kiss Mineko-"
Tohru cleared his throat, "That's enough," and looked over at the Minamet duchess to see her smirking.
Mineko shifted her broken arm, and murmured, "Is that what you were trying to do, Your Excellency? I had rather a different impression." She turned serious, "Bey, you've convinced us that you represent who you say you do, and we appreciate your assistance in this battle. However, we wish to know what happens next. Your mistress has, as you know, gone through great pains to avoid seeing us, and to even greater pains to keep us clear of the heart of Spear. Why?"
Clarissa gestured to the balcony. "Come see. It should be beginning now."
The generals had chosen the serpent temple as their base because of the balcony: its broad vista laid out the entirety of Spear before them. At the heart, they saw a glow of rose-colored light. As they watched, a swirl of twisting stone rose from the center of the glow, reaching out a feathered arc across the city.
Tohru breathed, "It's a castle. Another one."
Clarissa nodded. "It is. Its name is Hope, and here on the edge of the world, we believe it may have a chance to flourish."
Mineko watched Hope rise, and felt a pain in her chest. "Bey, about what happened-"
Clarissa shook her head. "I'm the wrong person to say anything to. I came later. Just watch."
Within an hour, the walls of Hope rose above the city of Spear, spreading like swan's wings into the sky.
When it finished, Clarissa spoke, "Ciarra has come here to aid you, but it will be at a price. She will hold Spear for you, but Hope is hers alone. You will protect it as you strike into the Aten lands, but you will not seek to control it, or her. Nor will you ask for more of our secrets than we wish to share. 'We have been abandoned by you once,' she told me to say. She promises that she will not allow it to happen again."
The Duchess of Inazuma and the Count of Minaval looked to each other, and then nodded to the peasant general. "We agree."
Clarissa smiled once. "Good." She bowed again, and moved to the open doorway to leave. In the archway, she spun lithely on her toes. "Your Grace, I would have let him kiss me," she called over, and ran down the stairs like a giddy girl.
With intense fascination, Mineko watched Tohru turn deeper and deeper shades of red.
In the 217th year of Paraceln's Age, the graves of Komaru have opened and emptied. What was thought true is false, and what seemed dead may yet draw breath. And yet, for every grave left empty, a grave has been filled: before the tides of people rise and fall around the Castle of the Sea, the dead will again rise to judge those left behind.