"The land was empty for centuries. Time covered every victory and defeat, changing the remains of slaughter and sacrifice into power waiting to be picked up by the children of heroes." Briach's tone turned sour. "But escaped slaves came to the empty land and found the blood of heroes. They used it to fertilize fields, to power wagons and ships to carry cabbages. The scum fed off the land left behind by the fathers of Keld. And so the Keldons have returned to reclaim their heritage.
"Each victory, each barrel of tufa, each war manikin fed by Heroes' Blood brings all of Keld closer to a holy war. Each slave who completes his task brings that day closer," Briach exclaimed.
"The Keldons want to sweep over the world," Haddad repeated. "But if what you say is true, then they are centuries late in arriving here. Why are they here now?"
"Because you are stealing the Heroes' Blood!" Briach snarled. "The tufa your League pulls from the mines is composed of the blood and gore shed by the Heroes and their enemies. Each concentration marks the remains of battle and power run amok. What you call tufa is the matrix holding Heroes' Blood." Briach stood and turned to the west.
"The Kipamu League," he spat, "mines the greatness and legacy left to Keld by the ancestors! Heroes' Blood was laid down in battle, and your kind uses it to nurture crops! We have come to reclaim the inheritance and use it for war. Laid down in battle, the Blood will be expended in battle!" Briach walked to Haddad and gripped his shoulders tightly, as if to force his vision into Haddad's body.
"The Keldons are the chosen people!" Briach frothed. "They are a race of heroes drawn from every corner of the earth! Only in the last few years have they remembered the greatness of their forefathers here! Time and the blood of other lands have made the Keldons worthy to rule here and every other land! The final days are upon us and we are ready to take back the world!"
Haddad wondered when, exactly, Briach had lost his mind. The dead and brutalized League citizens in Haddad's memories were the victims of barbarians, not saviors. Haddad realized that Briach needed to serve heroes in his own mind. The steward was trying to convince himself as much as Haddad.
Briach came back to the present and prodded Haddad toward a workshop. "Remember you serve a great people. Now Latulla will see you and induct you into the house."
The workshop was the size of a large barn with a high peaked roof, massive logs and great stones forming the foundation and the walls. The workshop, even more than the house, squatted like an invader on the land. When he reached the open doors he found the interior well lit. Windows and skylights let the sun shine on the tables and benches inside. Haddad had assumed the building would be as dark as the magic and rituals he imagined within.
Instead, there were tables with carefully organized apparatus everywhere. Shelves of meticulously labeled bottles stood against the walls, and a large dispensary could be seen at the back of the shop. Pegs held stools and large pieces of gear up off the floor and out of the way.
The second story was an open loft without partitions. A rope-powered lift to raise and lower materials from the upper floor was to one side. A series of stalls with iron locks and cryptic symbols was on the other. Some of the stalls were barred with bedding inside. Why would Latulla keep prisoners here where they might disturb her work? Haddad realized that captives might be at the heart of Latulla's work and wondered how long they lasted. Haddad wondered if he would die here. His heart nearly stopped as he walked past a trough with a body in it. He stopped, looking down. It was not a body, he realized with relief, but a mechanical model that looked like a man. Haddad stared at the clumps of leather and flesh attached to the metal skeleton and wondered what purpose it served. Briach shoved him forward, stopping his inspection of the "body."
Latulla stood examining equipment Haddad recognized from his unit. She picked up a manual on maintaining war machines and turned the pages. The text she only glanced at, but the diagrams drew her interest as the two slaves stood before her. She closed the book and looked one final time at the army emblem on the front cover. The same emblem was worked into Haddad's shirt to show his military specialty.
"So you are an expert in the crude abominations of the enemy?" she asked.
Haddad nodded vaguely, unsure of her meaning and his expected response. Briach cuffed his head strongly when Latulla looked at him.
"Speak when spoken to. You are in service now." Briach sounded as if he wanted to curse in anger.
"I maintained war machines," Haddad ventured.
"I may make use of you then." Latulla lifted a plate at her side. On it were a crust of bread and a cup of wine. "Open your mouth and eat." Latulla stuffed part of the bread into his mouth and watch him gnaw off a piece of the stale loaf. After several painful chews she poured the sour wine into his mouth. He almost gagged.
"I take you into my house. I provide you nourishment. I give you purpose and meaning." Latulla threw the plate and cup down as if they were soiled. She turned her back to them and went back to examining her loot.
"Take the dishes away and teach him what I expect. He may be called to serve as my aide. Brief him on his responsibilities and the punishments for failure." She spoke without even contempt, as if Haddad were a dumb animal she would need trained.
You have enrolled a viper, not a beast of burden, Latulla, he whispered in the back of his mind as he picked up the two pieces of pewter. He and Briach left. Haddad talked and asked questions all the way back to the main building that night, gathering information to feed his treachery.
Chapter 4
Barrin looked at the sea. The surface was covered with a light chop. The small spots of white foam were the most interesting things he had seen for hours. He had arrived at Teferi's island expecting to rest after days spent traveling. He was instead told that Teferi was out on maritime patrol off the mainland. More hours of flight before he could finally commence his mission. The grayhaired wizard rolled his head, stretching his aged limbs to ease their stiffness.
The wings of the ornithopter beat relentlessly as Barrin's pilot, Yarbo, followed the homing signal. A rangy, athletic man in his twenties, the pilot had volunteered to fly for the duration of the wizard's stay in Jamuraa. The ground crew at Teferi's base camp was able to give Barrin and his pilot a device to find Teferi's craft, handing it up as the last of Barrin's cargo was unloaded. The lightened machine flew faster and was more responsive as it flew over a gray sea.
Yarbo pointed left and down, signaling he had spotted Teferi's vehicle. Barrin waved for the pilot to circle, and Yarbo immediately banked. Barrin could now see Teferi's craft.
Teferi and his crew were in a long gondola slung below the gasbag of a blimp. The blimp was smaller than the dirigibles that flew in Tolaria, but any lighter-than-air craft is huge when compared against an ornithopter. The blimp was well over five hundred feet long and was a mosaic of pastel red and orange hues. Barrin wondered why such an abstract color scheme was used as Yarbo began to lose more altitude until they were directly across from the gondola.
The gondola was more than a hundred feet long and was segmented in several places. Bare metal and more of the pastel cloth winked a cryptic code as the lowering sun reflected off it and the windows. Barrin could see the crew waving through the windows. He also noticed that while the crew smiled, the long snouts of launchers at the front and the back of the gondola followed the ornithopter in its flight. He could feel the magic of the craft, and at least one spellcaster was holding power for a possible battle. Teferi was involved in a war, and Barrin was here to observe it. It seemed a poor reason for a reunion to Barrin.