The Belromanticum

Chapter 49

Not everyone reading this is a historian or even has a passing knowledge of history, especially reaching back as far as the previous Strata. Intellectually, I understand that. Yet there are times I have trouble grappling with the simple fact that my lifeishistory. I shaped and was shaped by the events of the past. However, I did not have a hand in everything, or even most things. Even events that transpired right outside my door.

The following vignette occurred during what was later called the Holiite Zatrikriona. At the best of times Castellandria was a nest of vipers and with the Heacharid siege still a recent memory these were not the best of times. I remained a bystander in this power struggle, and in fact was not even aware of it until battle lines had been drawn and both sides were committed. The violence never spilled out into the streets, and as a result I, and many other Castellandrians, looked upon the Zatrikriona as a time of peace.

I took it also as a time to set my plans, which had so long lived only in my mind, into motion. I threw myself into research on Zuunkhorun. I learned everything I could about both the kingdom and the people who called it home. I spent much time in the Grand Library of Castellandria, devouring every text they had on the Zuunese, from histories to biographies to cultural treatises. Zhahllaia and Maireili joined me in this endeavor, with Zhahllaia concentrating on politics, while Maireili learned culture. In addition, Zhahllaia taught all of us Zuunese.

The dominant tribe within were unlike any others in Aucor in appearance and custom. Originally from the western coast of Jhobai, they journeyed across the Azure Ocean to colonize a piece of the continent, subjugating the local humans and sending the local dwarves into their stone halls in the Zuunkhor Mountains to be ruled as vassals.

Those mountains, craggy and forbidding, enclosed Zuunkhorun on three sides, with only a few treacherous passes leading into the fertile valley within. The eastern edge of the kingdom was a windswept coastline with a single bay worthy of the name. Two cities, one on this bay, and the other on the western edge of the kingdom where the Zuunkhor Mountains parted, were the only easy ways in. It was the most defensible place on the continent.

This was why the Zuun people had managed to maintain their foothold and why the Heacharids had never conquered them. Zuunkhorun was a client kingdom, paying tribute, but never truly submitting the way the bulk of the continent did. It was the perfect place for my aims, which made my meticulous preparation all the more important.

While I conducted research, I turned to the task of raising my children. Though this volume is not intended to be about them, I believe it is germane to mention them. So many of them would make some mark upon the world, and I believe that since this is about my paramours, the results of our love have some value to the work as a whole. Forgive me if I too often prattle on about my children, but I am a proud father to a mighty brood.

Threch was still in the midst of his adventures and would not return for several years. When he did, it was with a family of his own. Letters arrived infrequently, sketching the broad strokes of his exploits. He was not merely an adventurer because I was. He and I merely shared the same curiosity about the world and the wanderlust to push us to the road.

Belazei, though not grown by the standards of her people, was a beautiful woman by those of the surface. Some of her friends had become fishers, and she assisted them in finding the best spots to drop their nets. Her continuing project had been the cartography of the seafloor, in pursuit of which she had assembled impressive maps. I watched her sometimes, face locked in concentration, as she altered one detail or another on her papers.

Arkohnus was already showing signs of becoming the beloved Black Rose of Ironmotte. He was obsessed with tales of Chassudorian knights, already talking about becoming a squire and taking vows. He was serious in his fencing practice with Shaluvia and he was learning horsemanship at the one stable that would accept a darkling child. This was where he would soon meet Sir Gereon of Rhandonia.

Faustan's destiny was bound by his gifts. I believe he would have wanted to join Arkohnus in such martial pursuits, but he was a wizard. He was a fount of untold power, and allowing it to grow untrained and unmastered would be the rankest folly. Fortunately, he embraced his studies more often than not, and his skill grew by the day.

Malycent had enough of her mother in her that I was not in the least surprised that she spent much of her time running about Azureview and the surrounding streets waving a wooden sword. I thought she would be an adventurer or a freeblade, and she would in the fullness of time, turn out to be both.

As for the smallest, Sabrael was recently weaned and the twins were learning to speak. Sabrael was quiet and shy like her mother, while the twins were active and outgoing. It was an exciting time to be a father. Every time was exciting to be a father.

***

***

Around this time my dear friend Lyta Sullac chose to visit, and she stayed for some months. I do not think what followed would have happened had I not so recently been shown how much I valued having a colleague. We spent our days discussing the results of our various research and our nights in each other's arms.

I was not the only one to enjoy the visit. Lyta's husband Jassam was besotted with Ujaala, and the two of them were inseparable for the duration of their time with us. Lyta's wife Saroya enjoyed her reunion with Tanyth's three handmaids, and Shaluvia once again found shattering bliss with Lyta's golem Teht. The warmaid was kind enough to put on a show for us, and though she lasted longer than she had before, by the time the brute was through with her she was once again a boneless mess.

During our conversations, I showed Lyta the strange creature I had found in Thabban's stronghold. She had more expertise in such things than I, as her magic was far more focused on the imbuing of objects with power.

"It is powerful, I know that," she said, turning it over in her hands.

I chuckled. "I knew that much."

After some examination, she said, "It smells of travel magics, but I can't see the precise contours. Not without serious study."

Though we looked into the object a little more, the only thing we were able to determine was that it would facilitate travel to someplace far away. Those who know my story have already figured out what this was, but it would not become apparent until long after my time in Zuunkhorun had ended.

One night after a vigorous session of loveplay, we lay entwined in bed, our limbs sheathed in sweat. Her head pillowed on my chest, I gently stroked her hair and asked the questions that danced through my mind. I was curious not only as to the method she used to seize Mairault, but how she had kept hold of it.

"It is a strange combination," she murmured, her voice low after her happy cries. "You must be subtle about your aims, about the power you have, but you must also be loved. You must have the populace beg you to take more power, and you must always refuse but still take what is offered. The crowd wants a leader, but does not trust one who too openly longs to lead."

"You are not the ruler in name."

"No," she said. "I do not think I would change that." I suspect Lyta would deny saying this later, for she would take direct control over Mairault. She did not do this until I was formally crowned Tyrant, so perhaps I had something to do with it. In any case, her line ruled Mairault until the oceans drank the Turquoise.

I turned my head towards her from my pillow. "How then?"

"It is a method of power. Exchanging one for the other. We, as wizards, have power to help. Use it. Do not wait for permission, do not even wait to be asked. No matter the problem that exists, there will be those already trying to solve it. They are the ones who know what they need and how you can most ably assist. Find them, talk to them, then do what they need. Ask for nothing in return, for you will receive gifts in plenty. Become known first as a benevolent presence, and you will be loved."

"I think I understand your meaning."

She traced designs in my chest with her finger, looking up at me with her emerald eyes. "You do not ask without motive. You plan to do what I did."

"Something like that."

"Good," she said. Her hand snaked between the sheets, finding my staff. Her silken touch wrapped about me, still slick with the two of us. I began to swell. "Was that enough rest for you, Bel? Ready for a second bout?"

I laughed. "This is why you needed a golem."

Her wide mouth spread in a smile. "I know what I am. And you feel ready to me."

***

***

Lyta and her mates left not long after, and soon Zhahllaia came to me, as though she knew that my thinking had arrived at her own conclusion. "It's time. We know everything we will." The diminutive djinn gazed at me with a look of certainty, her gold-flecked eyes hard.

"I know," I sighed. I looked upon my oldest friend. She had not aged a moment since I first summoned her from her lamp. She was tiny and exquisite, her bronze skin sparkling with its metallic undertones. She clasped her hands behind her back as she often did, an officious pose at odds with her nudity.

She regarded me. "You were meant for this. I saw it in the apprentice I first met at Thunderhead, and I see it more in you now. Send us, Master Wizard."

"I don't like being away from you."

She smiled, her expression softening. "I know. I will miss you, but I do this for all of us."

I sent them. Zhahllaia, Maireili, and Zhahllaia's warmaid Astar boarded a ship the following day, bound for Uraraoi, the single port city on the eastern coast of Zuunkhorun. They knew their goals well, and I could tell them nothing else. I had to trust that they would return to me successful and unharmed.

***

***

Of course, I could not remain unaware of the Zatrikiona forever. I learned of it one night. I expected to do little save kiss the ring, but the city had other plans for me. The Doge had summoned the leading citizens to the Great Basilica for a fete, which he did a few times every year to reaffirm his control of us and show off the power of his office. He couldn't have intended to provide a better contrast with Lyta had he tried.

Every member of my family was not equally known in the city, of course. Tanyth and Lysethe were famed as the Angel of Castellandria, and the Heaven's Fire respectively. One had brought relief to those suffering under the Heacharid siege, the other had summoned vengeance from the skies. Tanyth was beloved and Lysethe was feared, but Zhahllaia, Sarakiel, and Maireili were known only to friends and intimates.

Sarakiel stayed home with the children that night, assisted by a young darkling named Adoel, who was the sister of one of Belazei's friends. She often watched the children, and we trusted her like a member of the family. I suspect both Arkohnus and Faustan nurtured a first love for her, and this is part of the reason why it did not surprise me in the slightest that Faustan's first wife was a Castellandrian darkling. A lovely woman, her.

Tanyth, Lysethe, Quiyahui, and I went to the Great Basilica. I wore my elven robes and Kharsoomian crown: if the Doge wished to remind me of his status, I might as well remind him of mine. Tanyth, as always, was a vision of brilliance: her crimson curves were displayed within one of her iridescent gowns, her crown glittering on her brow.Her glossy black hair sparkled with amethysts. Lysethe wore the red enameled plate armor Tanyth had recently purchased for her. This was not the famous suit she wore in Zuunkhorun, but rather an ancestor to it. Her white tabard featured a feathered serpent in blue.

We passed beyond the innumerable guards standing by their burning braziers, making our way into the main hall where the Doge liked to host his guests. This was where the fabled wealth of Castellandria could be flaunted to all. As we entered, Quiyahui immediately slithered up to the ledges above where she perched among the glittering statuary.

As soon as we entered, the Doge's eyes found me. I was surprised when he beckoned me over: Though I was expected to pay my respects, he never summoned me, instead making me wait while he greeted others. As we approached, I noted that while the Doge was an oily man at the best of times, he seemed damper than usual that night. His forehead glistened with feverish sweat, despite the room being comfortable.

"Lord Belromanazar," he said by way of greeting, and I was taken aback when he spoke my title, which he never did. "Princess Tanyth, you are lovely as usual. And the brave Lysethe. It is my honor to host the valorous defenders of the great city."

"The honor is ours," I said carefully.

"Your Holiness, we are always pleased to accept any invitation to this great place," Tanyth said.

"I've been meaning to ask you to my council, my lady."

"Your council?"

"I know what they call you. The mob speaks of you as Mother Mercy, the Angel of Castellandria. The crowd adores you."

"I merely filled a need during a difficult time."

"The dark secret of Castellandria is that there are no easy times," said the Doge. "The city could use her Angel, alleviating such times before they occur."

"I will give it some thought."

"We would, of course, need to give you title. And a stipend," he mused. "And you, Belromanazar, having you close by would no doubt make everyone feel safer."

"Do you expect another invasion?"

"A wise man always expects such." He looked past us. "Please, excuse me. We can speak more later."

I watched him make his way to the head of the Stevedores' Guild. "What was that about?" I mused.

Tanyth stared at me with a mixture of love and pity. "Oh, my beautiful boy."

"What?" I looked to Lysethe, and I saw only confusion in her red eyes.

"Do you not notice any significant absences here?"

"No one else from the Owls?"

"Priscus Kurkuas."

I looked about for the hawk-faced holy man. He was one of the Doge's closest advisors, with a reputation for cunning and ruthlessness. He was never far from the Doge, except that night, when he was nowhere about. "Where is he?"

"He and our Doge have been in a power struggle, Bel. Wrestling over who the Doge might be."

"What's that to do with us?"

"Nothing, but that is why he is so intent on courting the favor of our family. Like it or not, we have significant power."

"I suppose we do."

"I suspect many in this room, and outside of it, wonder where we might find ourselves."

"My preference is that we stay out of it," I said.

"Mine as well," agreed Tanyth. "There can be power in that too."

"You sound like Zhahllaia."

"Do I?" she asked with a fetching smirk. "She will be pleased to hear it."

***

***

I feel I must apologize for the chronology here. This is a muddier time in my mind than most and unfortunately, I will have to reckon time based on my children. I remember this particular night because the twins slept through it. They were better sleepers than little Sabrael, who I'm afraid was an insomniac all her days. She was always a deep thinker, and in the dark of night she often found herself trapped with her own dark musings.

That night, I was out on the balcony, watching lightning dance on the horizon. The summer storms were always tranquil times for me, as even in storms that did not spring from my will, I felt a pleasant sense across my spirit like the caress of a long-absent love. I stroked Quiyahui's head, watching each brilliant shaft of skyfire, wondering when the wind would sweep east and find us. My thoughts, as they often did, turned to my absent brides. I fretted over their safety, and wished them back by my side.

"My lord?" I turned and found Ku-Tala leaning on the jamb. She wore only her collar, her scarlet skin shining in the moonlight.

"Yes?"

"Princess Tanyth sent me to fetch you."

"Tell her I'll be along in a minute."

"Yes, my lord."

Ku-Tala was a quiet little thing, so unlike her brash people. I had not gotten to know her well, other than our occasional tumbles, where she served more than adequately. I nearly called her back before reflecting that spending inside her when Tanyth desired a bout of love was a foolish impulse.

I rose, and a tingle worked through my body. At first, I assumed it was anticipation for the delights awaiting me in the bedchamber. Yet it ran not from my loins into my belly, but up my spine, spreading through my body in a widening web of light. The storm on the horizon grew no closer, but I felt it on my skin, a wind and rain ready to envelop Azureview.

The ring on my left hand whispered to me. Diotenah's ring, containing a piece of the fell necromancer's soul, raked its soft syllables over my mind. The words were past my hearing, if indeed any were actually spoken, but the meaning was clear. Whatever remained of the necromancer's soul was pleased about something. Strange, as the ring only awakened when I used my power.

Lightning flashed over the water, closer than any thus far. For a moment, the balcony was illuminated as bright as day. Two dripping shapes stood on the far end. I didn't know how long they had been there. They were utterly motionless, and as the light faded from the initial strike, I stared at them, trying to understand their bizarre silhouettes.

As my dazzled eyes recovered, the first thing I made out was the worms of lightning crawling over their rotting forms. Their shape was roughly human, but coral, clusters of barnacles and mussels, and even anemones grew from them, rendering their outline alien and diseased. They wore the tattered remnants of armor, rusted and rotted, and they carried spears and shields in a similar state of decay. They were stormwights. I would know they were mine even if I did not feel the connection that bridged us. I could not understand where they had come from, as I had not created any since the rout of Prince El's forces in far Kharsoom.

"Tent brother," whispered one.

"We have returned to you, tent brother," whispered the other.

My heart gripped me in a fist of ice. I knew their names, but I could scarcely believe the horror. "Einoë? Kallea?"

"We have returned to you, tent brother," whispered Einoë. I saw now what the sea had not carved away from her once-beautiful features.

"Our vow has not been discharged," hissed Kallea. She too had only small pieces of her which were not destroyed by decay or the sea creatures growing on her body.

"How are you speaking?" I murmured. The horror of seeing my boon companions, lovers, and friends in such a state warred with my own curiosity to know how and why they had returned to me. Stormwights were mindless creatures, silent save for the soft rattle of air through their bodies. They could not hold to vows. They could not seek me out unless I summoned them. They could not speak.

They had been in the ocean, that much was obvious thanks to the sea life growing over their ruined forms. Had they been beneath the water sinceNaeri's Revengehad gone down in the Turquoise? Had they been following me for all these years, walking through the crushing black depths of the ocean, only finally catching me here?

"We are your hetairoi," hissed Einoë.

"We will trade our lives for yours," whispered Kallea.

"You have no more vow to me," I said. "You protected me unto death. I slew you." Diotenah's whispers clawed my mind, echoing her approval at this horrible state.

"We are here, tent brother."