The Empress of Beasts, page 30
part #13 of The Wandering Inn Series
The young woman hesitated, and this time guiltily. That sounded a bit too much like her…her mind fuzzed for a second. Her dad…? She skipped over that fact to reply to Pisces.
“Well—okay. Sure! Being globally aware is great. Sorry, I take it back.”
“Thank you.”
“Even if you do like being a know-it-all. But that Flos dude won’t really affect Liscor, will he?”
“Time can only tell. The odds of him reconquering Chandrar are remote, or so I feel. But other continents can affect ours. Just look at Terandria.”
Erin dutifully looked around the room. She needed to get a map for the walls. That would be a great decoration when the inn’s remodeling was done!
“Go on.”
The young [Mage] sat back in his chair, looking pleased at his audience. He spoke in his lecturing tone that Erin had first hated so much, now much improved. It was lecturing, but not sneering.
“Well, Terandria has always had a rocky relationship with Izril. I could delve into the ancient blood ties that link the Five Families and other noble houses of Izril to Terandria’s own gentry, but to be brief—and simple—sometimes Terandria makes war with Izril. Northern Izril, since they are closest, but they have been known to send armies against the Drakes as well. On the last occasion, they landed along a coast and, well, invaded for nearly a decade. They expanded and attempted to claim part of Izril.”
“Why? I bet all the Drakes joined up to get rid of them. That sounds like a stupid idea.”
The [Innkeeper] wrinkled her nose. Pisces nodded, smiling.
“Oh, assuredly they did. It wasn’t technically a colony—Terandrian kingdoms are well known for founding those too, on Baleros and Chandrar, but it led to a decade of conflict in contested regions. Very political. Is it actually open warfare or just ‘hostilities’ between roaming bands of not-armies and so forth. Terandria reaped a number of benefits from the fighting, however, in the form of looted treasures and whatnot. And incurred heavy losses when they were smashed by an expedition led by the Walled Cities, including Archmage Zelkyr—”
“Zelkyr? Wait, when was this?”
“Nearly a century and a half ago. It was an instructive example! In practice, nations trade with each other all the time and wars can even be fought across oceans, although this is generally reserved for only larger conflicts. But [Pirates] raid Izril’s coasts, and sometimes a nation will send forces to other lands. All this to say that other continents might well affect Izril, as they did in the Second Antinium War.”
Pisces sat back, waiting for a response. Erin pondered for a moment and shrugged.
“Cool.”
“That’s it?”
He looked askance. Erin rested her chin on the table.
“It’s got nothing to do with the inn. I dunno, I know I should keep up with it, but it’s not my…”
She hesitated.
“…interest. I mean, I just don’t know enough about the history. Yeah.”
Pisces eyed Erin. She tried to look innocent and he let it slide, much to her relief.
“Well, I could always educate you on the relevant subjects. But this is simply a little update for myself. The war against Tiqr is coming to a close and I thought I should review the facts. It was interesting—there was a longer section here that I haven’t read yet—”
He tried to roll the scroll down to a section at the bottom, but he was blocked as Erin poked her head over.
“Alright, you’ve got me, you sly dog. Lay it on me. Where’s Tiqr and why do I care? It’s got to do with the Dental King, right? The King of Destruction?”
Either Erin was truly bored, or she actually cared about world news. Pisces narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out which it was. He sighed, and unrolled the parchment, tracing his way back to the top.
“The conflict in Tiqr is an ongoing war between the nation of Tiqr, and a coalition of nations. About eleven or ten in all, all opposed to the King of Destruction.”
“Right, right. Because he’s a jerk.”
Erin nodded agreeably. Pisces paused.
“That is a simple reading of him, but he is dangerous, yes. In any case, this is the twenty-seventh day of the conflict between the Empire of Tiqr and the Nerrhavian-led Coalition. They are attacking Tiqr—”
“Wait, not the King of Destruction?”
Pisces sighed.
“No, not him. They are attacking Tiqr, one of the few nations openly sympathetic to his cause, or at least truly neutral and not opposed to him. Three major nations and a number of smaller ones have entered the conflict. The largest by far is Nerrhavia’s Fallen, hence their designation as the ‘leader’. In truth, they are simply the largest power by far.”
“Nerrhavia’s Fallen? That’s a name of a country?”
Erin was lost at sea. Pisces looked at her and nodded slowly. He flicked his fingers and produced a quill from a bag of holding.
“Geography. Reim is here. Northeast of Tiqr by a fair margin. This conflict is happening along the south of Chandrar, these nations here, here, here, and here.”
He outlined four nations, all close together. One was decidedly larger than the rest. Erin blinked at them. Pisces tapped one.
“That’s Tiqr.”
“Right. Got it. So all these nations have ganged up on Tiqr because Tiqr liked the King of Destruction?”
“The reasons are slightly more complex. But yes. They took the King of Destruction’s proclamation of peace-without-provocation as a chance to attack one of his allies. If he makes a move, he is forsworn. On the other hand, if he does nothing, Tiqr falls, and the other nations happily claim it.”
Now it was making sense. Erin exhaled.
“Ooh. That’s dirty. Uh—what’s this proclamation of peace?”
The [Necromancer] stared at Erin. She raised her hands.
“I’m sorry!”
It took a minute for him to explain what Flos’ declaration was and why it was so significant. Then Pisces went back to his crude map. He pointed.
“A number of kingdoms have joined the coalition against Tiqr for hopes of gaining land, but in practice, there are only four major powers. Tiqr is one of them. The empire is fairly prosperous, if not in monetary wealth, then in wildlife. Savannas and a number of oases make up the nation, and they are renowned for their [Beastmasters] and connection with animals. Their [Empress] is even known as the Empress of Beasts. Empress…Nsiia.”
He had to check his notes for that. Erin nodded. She tried to imagine it, but…all she could imagine was a female Elirr with a crown. She smirked.
“Wait, what species are they?”
“Human, predominantly.”
Now Erin frowned. She was imagining…no, it was still too hard. She had never met someone from Chandrar. Maybe Octavia? But she had no idea what it looked like. How they lived. It was far away. She looked at Pisces helplessly and he tried to elaborate. But he had never been there either.
“It is a proud nation by all accounts. They are not to be taken lightly. And their [Empress], though young, is thought to be as capable a leader as a warrior. However, she erred by allowing the other nations reason to declare war on Tiqr. She stands alone.”
“No one’s coming to help her?”
“No one has. In the beginning, I believe, the world was watching to see whether the King of Destruction would ride to her aid. He could have, perhaps, if he declared Tiqr his subjects. But many would see it as him breaking his vow. Or—perhaps—if other nations would aid Tiqr. They are allied with the Garuda-led nation of Kilalle to the west, but Kilalle is militarily inferior. And the odds against Tiqr…”
Pisces pursed his lips. Erin looked at his face.
“No one came.”
“No.”
A pause. Erin looked at the crude map and tried to imagine the landscape.
“Tell me about Tiqr, then.”
“I am told it is—was—very beautiful. The processions of Tiqr’s [Beast Tamers] are famed, their animals friendly. Many are wild still, but they exist with the people of Tiqr in relative peace. It was one of the nations spared the ravages of war during the King of Destruction’s rise, for all they fought at his side. Until now…”
——
[Empress] Nsiia stood upon the ramp leading up to the palace. She commanded the highest view from Tiqr’s capital city, Oliphant. But even her palace was shorter than the buildings of other cities. Oliphant was sprawling, not built to heights. And it had few stairs. Gentle ramps and open streets dominated the sandstone of her beloved home. All to allow the animals that were Tiqr’s children access to the city.
Now, though, she looked at her city and wished for towering walls. For fortifications built into the sky, like the Drake Cities, or the cold Dullahan structures of Baleros. Even Terandria’s ancient castles. She had seen so few. But she had dreamed of them.
“Empress.”
A voice called to her. She turned and saw a man approaching. Her [Wild General], Vasraf. He walked forwards, dressed not in ceremonial armor, colorfully bedecked with flowers, but leather and steel. He carried a curved shortsword at his hip, but his true weapon, the bow that few warriors, men or women, could draw, was not with him. It was not time for battle.
Yet she saw it everywhere. Her people were not out and about, but spending what time they had with their families. Her army was readying itself for war. Already, the formal declarations had been sent. Nsiia looked at them. She had tossed them from the steps of her palace, but a few still fluttered, caught by the dry wind on the bottom of the ramp.
“Empress.”
Vasraf bowed. His voice was grave. Deep. He looked at her and she saw a reflection of the worry that must be crossing her own face. She saw a hand touch his shoulder, dark skin, with quivering fingers. Her hand? She couldn’t show that.
The quivering stopped. Empress Nsiia looked at Vasraf.
“They are all coming. I will be at the council shortly. Has the Wildkeeper arrived?”
“They are all on their way. Nsiia. We cannot stop them all.”
“I know.”
The Empress of Beasts ducked her head. She wore no crown—at least, none that other rulers would consider one. Her headband danced with colors, feathers of birds she had caught. Even a Roc’s feather. It was magical, an heirloom of Tiqr.
Absently, Nsiia raised her hand, touching a bright yellow feather from the sparkling shock-birds that were so elusive. One of her subjects had given it to her. If she plucked it, for a moment she could use the powers of the bird she had caught. In times of peace, it was her delight to do so for the enjoyment of all.
Now, though, she thought that every feather would be used for war. And every tool, every trick in Tiqr’s armories. She looked at her [General]. His eyes were pale violet, alight in his face. His skin was darker than even hers, from years spent out under Tiqr’s sun. She had seen him fight. And she had known him all her life. He did not lie.
“Vasraf. Kilalle is not coming. Their flocks send only regrets.”
The news struck him, but not hard. Not now.
“All of them?”
“Every one. They have counted.”
He nodded, a muscle moving in his cheek.
“Then the King of Destruction—will he come?”
“I do not think so.”
It was too far. Too far, for Reim to leave their borders. Even if he sent some of his Seven, he would be under attack from all sides. Forsworn. It was a neat trap he’d placed himself in. Or had found himself in. Nsiia looked east, as if she could see him. Vasraf waited.
“Will you ask him?”
“No.”
And that was it. He did not ask why. It was only a dream in any case. They both looked across the city. And then Nsiia saw something move. A giant, a grey shape. She watched it approaching, moving up the ramp with slow, calm steps.
“Thef.”
She reached out as the Grand Elephant approached. Thef, her friend, the elephant she had grown up alongside, reached out his huge trunk and she touched it. He was a giant among elephants; his species could grow to be twice as large as a regular elephant. A giant species, rarely seen even in Chandrar. The effort of feeding just one group could be immense. But Tiqr had always had a bond with this species. Now, he lowered his head, his tusks glinting with ornamentation.
“You have come because I am worried. Thef.”
Nsiia touched his leg, but did not reach up to let him place her on his back. She knew the animals of Tiqr were restless, the hyenas snapping, the birds in flight. They could sense war as well.
“Thef. You will have to wear the armor you hate so much. And fight. We must all fight, it seems. Though I did not ask for war. He warned me, that Femithain of Illivere. But he marches on us too, with his things of stone and magic.”
Vasraf watched his [Empress] speaking softly to Thef. He made a sound and she turned.
“My Empress. We cannot hold them. Tiqr has not enough choke points. Our army is not vast enough. Nerrhavia alone is sending an army two hundred thousand strong.”
The Empress of Beasts turned. She looked at him, young for her throne. Mortally afraid. But then she nodded. And she stood straighter. Thef made a small trumpeting sound. He followed her as she turned, walking back into her open palace.
“Then we will hold, Vasraf. And ask any of our allies for a miracle. We will hold and break Nerrhavia, Savere, Illivere, and all the other armies to pieces. Unless my [General] disagrees?”
His eyes flashed.
“Never. They will regret crossing our borders.”
“Then let us go.”
Nsiia turned and looked back once across her home. Peaceful. And she touched the feather in her headband. Then she turned, as the first drums of war began to echo across Tiqr. Summoning war.
——
“Couldn’t they win? I mean, if they made fortifications and stuff?”
Erin was listening to Pisces. He looked amused. But then, he had been keeping up on what the war had been like.
“How? Tiqr is not as defensible as, say, Liscor. The geography is not advantageous to castles. Nor do many nations build them in Chandrar. No. And the nations arranged against Tiqr gave them no time. See—on the second day.”
He showed Erin a line on the parchment. It was short. All it read was—Erin squinted.
“Armies from Savere, the Illivere Federation, enter Tiqr’s borders. Nerrhavia sends two hundred—two hundred thousand?”
She stared at the parchment. Pisces nodded. He tapped the large nation.
“This is Nerrhavia’s Fallen.”
“That’s…big. Why’s it so much bigger than the others?”
“It is a powerful nation. String-people. Their armies began crossing into Tiqr’s borders. Dozens of them.”
“And Savere? This federation?”
“Two other prominent nations. Savere is known for, well, its relationship with [Pirates] among other things. Illivere is more complex. It is a mage-state. And it produces Golems.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. They have traditionally been diplomatic, but their leader, Magus-Crafter Femithain, declared war on Tiqr along with the other nations. He may have been reluctant to do so; he is, by all accounts, a cautious and pragmatic ruler. Compared to Savere’s ruler, at least.”
“But they went to war. How many did Illivere send? Oh! It says only eight thousand! Hey, that’s tiny!”
“And…”
Pisces pointed. Erin’s face fell.
“And four hundred Golems. Oh.”
——
The air was unnaturally still. Magus-Crafter Femithain had ridden through Tiqr before. And he was accustomed to more life. The savannas of Tiqr benefitted from the rains that made Savere so prosperous. Normally, he expected to see more life. But it had all fled.
So the silence was only broken by the footsteps of [Soldiers]. The Magus-Crafter glanced up as he walked. He was on foot, as was his entire army. Illivere had sent eight thousand of its small army. But they were experienced [Soldiers], not raw recruits. Moreover, Illivere’s strength did not lie in its warriors of flesh and blood. No. That came from the huge shapes plodding ahead of the Humans.
Golems. Tools of labor and war. They marched ahead of the troops, carved legs of stone or wood or in a few places, simply sand, moving forwards in huge, laborious strides. Most were uncovered, unadorned save for clothing or features sculpted into the Golem’s bodies themselves. Some carried weapons, or pulled carts along.
That was the Illivere Federation’s strength. Golems. Golems for labor, for protection. And yes, for war. Four hundred of them might be a small number at a glance, but who would take down one of those towering giants? Some were as tall as half-Giants; a few had been made even taller. Although the ancient techniques of creating titans and more advanced Golems was a faded art.
“Magus-Crafter!”
Femithain’s [Armsmaster of Steel] strode towards the Magus-Crafter. He paused as the Magus-Crafter’s escort turned. It was a practiced move; the two huge, steel figures walking besides Femithain were programmed to guard him with their lives. Femithain looked up and saw a huge, steel face staring down at him.
Flanking him were the two Golems he had crafted himself to earn his title. They were metal. Steel. One was armed with a maul nearly as tall as it was, a terror of a weapon. The other carried a shield and sword, his personal bodyguard.
“Armsmaster Dellic. What news?”
The [Armsmaster], lower in rank than a [General], but one of the few officers that Illivere employed, clapped a hand to his breast.
“Magus-Crafter. I request we slow our pace. I have riders from Nerrhavia stating their army is advancing past ours. And Savere’s forces are somewhere in the vicinity. I have sent a Golem-patrol to keep us aware of their movements.”
His face twisted a bit as he delivered the request. Nerrhavia had stated they were advancing, not requested. Femithain understood the man’s feelings. But his face was smooth, calm. The Magus-Crafter was a deft [Diplomat] as well as mage.
