Vlad Li Tam heard footsteps behind him and turned slowly, mindful that he still wore no clothing. The chieftain and several others approached, including the girl. She still smiled.
“Hello, my friend,” the chieftain called out in a loud voice. He also smiled.
Vlad Li Tam returned the smile. “Hello, Dayfather Ulno Shalon.” He used the title now to indicate his kin-clave. They were speaking an older form of Lower Landlish that had been pidgined together with a handful of Named Land dialects all built from the languages of the Old World. The people of the Divided Isle and the other islands close enough for the Named Lands to place them on a map spoke an easily intelligible dialect. But the farther out they’d gone, the less effective the common tongues became. There were scattered words here and there, but not with any rhyme or reason.
Finally, he’d put the children on the problem, turning them loose with island children, positioning his older sons and daughters nearby to capture the vocabularies. They’d learned enough at the first two islands in this particular archipelago to carry on conversations with the others. And with each stop, once kin-clave was established, he turned the children loose again.
The chieftain was a short, plump man in a ratty cap that Vlad Li Tam recognized as an officer’s hat from the Entrolusian river patrol. He wore little else besides that and a length of faded cloth twisted around his middle. Bits of bone and feather decorated the cap, and his grin continued as he approached Vlad Li Tam with open arms.
“I trust my”-here he used a term that Vlad Li Tam was not familiar with-“performed her duties for the tribe in a satisfactory manner?”
Vlad Li Tam nodded, winking to the girl as she smiled out at him from behind her uncle. “Yes, Dayfather. She was more than satisfactory.”
“I will hope for a strong son,” the chieftain said, “that his hands may join us in our work.”
Vlad Li Tam touched his head and then his chest. “And I will hope for a beautiful daughter,” Vlad Li Tam replied, according to their custom, “that she might bring lightness to the heart of your people.”
Satisfied, the chieftain nodded. “Your tribe is now kin-clave with mine. Today, we will celebrate this joining, and from this day forward you will have haven among us.”
Vlad Li Tam smiled. It had been a small price to pay to gain this people’s trust and earn the right to walk freely among them. Of course, there was the matter of the girl. Though it wasn’t required, it was certainly customary for him to keep trying until the seed took hold, and judging from last night’s experience, she would be an eager partner in that work. And he didn’t mind the effort. They did not need to know that no child could possibly come from this union. His sixth daughter, Rae Li Tam, had taken care of that, giving him the powders he would need to dull his soldiers’ swords before they marched through the gate.
The two men embraced, and the Dayfather left with his entourage. Vlad Li Tam watched him go, then walked to the hammock in its thatched lean-to to dress himself. Offshore, he saw the first of his iron ships come around the cliff side of the island, steam belching into a clear sky. Drawing a mirror from his pocket, he flashed a message to it in the House code of the Tams. They would drop anchor in the island’s single natural harbor and begin offloading their contribution of kin-clave for the tribal feast. Wines and spirits like this people had never tasted. Cheeses and breads. And steel tools and a few choice bolts of brightly colored silk. The Tam armada would stop here, their blacksmith would set up his anvil and furnace to do minor repairs both to the ships and to the assorted metal goods these people had traded for in years past. From the outside, they would appear to take their rest among the Dayfather’s people for a fortnight. But in that time, his sons and his daughters would do the work he had made them for. They would build alliances; they would gather information; they would compile their findings and compare what they learned. When their stay here was complete, House Li Tam’s network would include this small island and its remote tribe. And this people’s knowledge and history would be added to the matrix that he built.
When light flashed back to him, confirming his command, Vlad Li Tam tucked the mirror away. So far, in seven months of searching, he’d found nothing substantial but had not wavered in his conviction. Somewhere out here there had to be proof.
He’d studied Sethbert’s so-called evidence of Androfrancine aggression carefully and had reached the only possible conclusion: The Androfrancines were afraid of something. Something so threatening to them and their light that they would bring back Y’Zir’s spell and create a generation of mechoservitors to carry it. Their maps, with their strategic lines drawn and delivery points marked at key locations, indicated a fear of invasion along the Outer Emerald Coast with a secondary incursion onto the Delta. And Tam knew now that someone had bent his own network of children to bring down Windwir. But who and why?
It was folly to believe that the Named Lands, set apart from the rest of the spell-blasted continent by the Keeper’s Wall, was the only place left where life could be sustained. The Wizard King, in his wrath, had brought down the world; but like these islands now grown apart from the Named Lands, there had to be pockets of life elsewhere.
And so the question was: Which pocket of life had engineered the end of the Androfrancine Order and the destruction of its Great Library? And how had they controlled his family to accomplish this horrific task?
So far, his search had borne no fruit, but Vlad Li Tam was a patient man.
I will have the truth, he thought.
But when he did, Vlad Li Tam wondered, what would he do with it?
Rudolfo
It happened faster than Rudolfo thought possible. One moment, he was leaning over to whisper something to Aedric about the quality of Hanric’s singing, and in the next, the music and laughter of the feast vanished beneath the sudden call to Third Alarm. The double doors of the Great Hall burst inward, and a muffled pandemonium swept into the room-his own Gypsy Scouts at the center of it, knives dancing and connecting with invisible blades. They already bled from a dozen cuts of varying severity, their winter uniforms slashed and stained with their blood. The invisible assailants did not stop, and judging by the flood of sentries and armed servants now pouring into the room, they had not stopped since breaching the border.
Aedric pushed away from the table, reaching for the ceremonial knife he wore and whistling the men to guard their king.
Guard our guests first, Rudolfo signed as he drew the narrow sword he’d chosen to decorate his outfit. Aedric nodded.
The tornado moved through the large room, breaking tables and scattering food, shattering dishes and bottles as the unmagicked Gypsy Scouts sought to contain this sudden invisible threat.
How many? It was impossible for Rudolfo to say. But they were strong and fast and silent and deadly, cutting through servant, scout and guest alike as they made their way to the head table.
Hanric bellowed, knocking the table over and reaching for the silver axe of the Marsh King’s office. The giant Marsher was on his feet, his escort surrounding him with weapons drawn as the clamor approached.
Across from Hanric, Ansylus the Crown Prince of Turam shot Rudolfo a surprised glance as he climbed to his feet. “What manner of-”
Before he could finish, his own guards were down beneath a storm of steel. The Crown Prince himself flew back against the wall, tossed by unseen shoulders, bucking and twitching as hidden knives found him and pierced him with surgical precision. Three Gypsy Scouts pressed the attacker as Rudolfo’s guest slumped to the floor, eyes already glassy in death.