The General's Legacy

Chapter Fourteen: Beldon Valley (final part 2)

"Wine?" Quain enquired lifting a jug from the massive oak table in the centre of the great hall and sniffing at the rim as Xolt entered. Xolt nodded and Sebastian shrugged as he watched Quain pour. Sebastian took the pewter goblet offered to him. Sipping on the heavy fruit flavours, he started to wonder where in the room to stand, what to look at or what to say. What was he doing here?
Xolt took a goblet of wine in his left hand and tucked his right-hand thumb into his belt before turning around to examine the painting above the fireplace.
Sebastian watched Xolt's face frown before softening into a smile that seemed out of place on the stern man's face.
"You don't have to use a weapon to be a warrior." Xolt spoke with the kind of reverence Sebastian was used to hearing from the Archpriest Ranold while delivering a sermon.
"A fine choice of words from one who is, or was a warrior," Sebastian replied.
Xolt answered while his eyes remained on the painting of Garon fighting the burning Ripper.
"Ah, no Sebastian, they are not my words. It is what your grandfather told me after I discovered I would never wield a sword again. Being a warrior is a state of mind, he said. And he was right, however much I doubted it at the time. It looks to me like he cheated and used his left hand when his sword arm was wounded." Xolt chuckled, and that was even more out of place than the smile.
"Do you want to know something Sebastian?" Xolt turned and looked Sebastian in the eye.
Sebastian shrugged and nodded.
"Orchestral music bores me. I much prefer the playhouses in Tri or even dining and sharing old war stories with soldiers."
Xolt paused giving time for Sebastian to reply.
"But you came to the concert when I invited you. Why?"
"Maybe I got a bit sentimental. Maybe an old warrior's sixth sense or some kind of superstition. Whichever it was, I decided at the moment of your invitation to follow the lead of the Artifex-Dendra in the room, since doing exactly that had saved my life at the Battle of Tri Valley Pass. That was twenty years ago." Xolt gestured with his goblet as he spoke. "We held on for three days in the keep on the border, but it wasn't a place to stand up to a long siege. We faced dehydration, starvation or fleeing back to Tri for reinforcements. The general, your grandfather, arrived with a cavalry regiment that should not have been in Emirian territory. They ran down enough of King Klonag's men to force them to retreat once we came out from keep and joined the fight. Not before Klonag took a piece of me with that enchanted blade he uses." Xolt set his goblet down on the mantle piece and rubbed on his right shoulder as if the memory reawakened old pain.
"What is the use of a warrior who can't hold a sword? I asked him. 'You don't have to use a weapon to be a warrior,' was his answer. Look," Xolt hurried to the great hall window facing north over Beldon Valley, "look down there now."
Sebastian followed and touched his nose on the window wondering what it was he was supposed to see. In the distance, the undead army continued to gather and take form. Sebastian looked down into the castle courtyard. Men were standing, sitting and lying around everywhere.
"What am I supposed to see?"
"You're supposed to see the warrior who doesn't hold a weapon," Xolt replied.
Sebastian watched. Scanning courtyard and the top of the battlements he could see soldiers. The only other person he saw was a dead-on-her-feet Suki hauling herself, a bucket of water and a ladle around, filling the tin cups soldiers carried.
"With the enemy on the horizon, she fights a battle against thirst and hunger. Believe me, after the siege at the keep, I know what thirst and hunger feel like, and it's no condition to fight in."
"I suppose I see what you mean. But what can I do?"
"You would have to ask whoever knows you best that question."
"That would be my brother," Sebastian lowered his voice, "but we're not really talking right now."
"We can start with what you've already done."
"I'm not sure I've done anything."
"Ask me where I would have been if I had not accepted your hospitality and gone to the concert."
Sebastian's face was as blank as his mind.
"Alright, I will pretend you asked. I would have gone to the annual commander's dinner at your father's invitation."
"And you would have been killed in the palace," said Sebastian.
"Or worse. So in your own way, you have already saved my life. I'm no longer in a position to offer Valendo military help. I have no messenger birds with me to contact Tri. So I'll ask you again, what do you need?"
"Credibility in front of the men ... and peace with my brother." Sebastian sighed.
"I can think of how to help you with the first one, but you're on your own for the second."

*

Cory stood in the general's office looking out the window. He heard the rhythmic knocking of booted footsteps approaching in the corridor. They stopped in the doorway and Cory glanced round.
"Cory."
"Come in Greg."
"The men are uneasy about what approaches," said Greg.
Cory returned his gaze to the window. The small panes framed in lead beading were not entirely flat. They gave a distorted image of what truly lay outside like a reflection on still water.
The skeletal army gathered like locusts on a crop field, ranks swelled by the recent addition of newly fire-blackened figures. Cory had the sensation of being adrift once more. Like standing on a beach as the last grains of sand under his feet are stolen way by the waters receding before an approaching tidal wave. Some would drown when the wave came. If someone tried to help, they would fight and drag down their rescuer. Cory couldn't keep the image of Sebastian drowning out of his mind. The brave would work with you to be saved. Cory thought of a time on Special Operators training that the old generals 'boys' went through. Cory was a strong swimmer and had reached out to a floundering Greg in the stormy seas north of Tri in Emiria. They worked together and he eventually pulled him ashore.
Out of the window, Pragius's new army of the old formed into ranks and closed the distance on the castle. The sense came to him of the approaching tidal wave rushing into shore, crashing over his head and taking the feet from  under him. A time for drowning or floundering. Or he could try to swim.
"Greg."
"Yes Cory."
Several heartbeats pulsed painfully in Cory's tender ears as he drew a breath.
"Have Quain meet me in the training room at seven, and Zeivite with the other commanders in the briefing room at nine. Not forgetting Commander Jaygee."
Greg stood by Cory's shoulder and studied the approaching undead army as he replied.
"Yes general."     

[End of Chapter.]

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