Chapter 1
The freezing wind flew down from the cold mountains and over the top of snow-clad trees, only to clash against the high stone wall blocking the Woltu mountain pass and protecting the city of Saint Mera, though the locals still called the city by its old name, Blüsten. Marius stood at the top of the wall overlooking the mountain pass and the besieging army of savages that had gathered to reclaim their once-lost city, they wore mostly animal skin with a few spotting worn leather armor presumably taken off fallen foes. Skulls and bones of defeated enemies, animal or human, were worn as helmets which gave them a feral appearance as they waved their spears in the air or bashed their axes against their shields. They had come to fight so much was clear, no amount of gold or silver would send them back over the mountains this time. Marius dreaded the cold, even his new thick robes made of wolf-skin could not shield him as he stood there shaking, hoping the next great battle of the empire would take place somewhere warmer. He then felt a warm touch as Marja, his protector, placed a woolen blanket around his shoulders, little did it help but he thanked her for the gesture nonetheless.
Besides the distant roaring of the savages it was quiet, the city had been evacuated together with the town guard by the northern imperial army to a camp half a day’s travel from the city. Now only Marja and Marius remained, it was safer that way. They stood at the top of the wall and had done so for hours awaiting the assault, but the savages had been wary of the lack of guards as they smelled a possible trap. Marius had his eyes on a group of well-dressed, or at least fully dressed, savages talking and gesturing for the past hour. They were likely the commanders of this army and, as far as Marius could see, consisted of five chieftains each of equal status. This resulted in bickering and the exchange of rude gestures as they tried to agree on a battle plan. These tribes always lacked central leadership Marius thought to himself, which had always led to their downfall in the past. But what they lacked in leadership they more than made up for in raw strength and fearlessness.
Finally, they seemed to agree on an approach as they blew their war horns, the sound was cast and returned from the mountain side echoing in the valley waking Marius from his trance. The savages sent forth their archers which came into sight and began to put on their bow strings. They were unfortunately still out of Marius’ reach and so he could do nothing but watch as the archers prepared themselves. They unpacked their bowstrings from carefully packed pelt packages, protecting them from the unforgiving cold which would have otherwise frozen them stiff, and placed them on their well-carved and heavy longbows. Taller than a man these were and of petrified wood, hard as a rock. Yet the savages wielded them without trouble, of course, they were at least three heads taller than an imperial man themselves and at least twice as strong. Marius looked to Marja at his side standing tense and ready, her eyes fixated on the chieftain standing in front of the archers. The chieftain yelled something in his rough tongue and held up his ax, then a brief silence came upon the mountain pass as all on either side of the wall awaited his command. A brutish word echoed and the sound of a thousand arrows ensued.
Marius was impressed by the range of their archers as the arrows quickly closed in on their position, but just as the savages thought the arrows would hit their target they were stopped by Marja’s tower shield. Made of true and tested imperial steel it stood once again between Marius and certain death. Marja stood in silence shielding them both waiting for the barrage to seize before once again stepping to the side. Never once did she meet Marius’ gaze as in battle she was cold and calculating, this was the way of the Mastas, her face stone, her heart iron. Marius could almost feel the disappointment of the chieftains as they realized they had accomplished nothing but wasted arrows, nevertheless, they raised their weapons and with a roaring war cry sent their bloodthirsty soldiers into battle. Marius looked on in awe as the savages stormed towards the wall as feral beasts, some even running on all fours while others ran with crude ladders made of tree and bones, hoping to seize the wall. Marius stood perfectly still concentrating on the redwood pikes that Marja had placed in front of the wall the day before, marking the effective range of his voice. He waited until a good portion of the savages was well behind the pikes, a few ladders had even been clashed up against the wall. To his disappointment he could not spot any of the chieftains, they were most likely at the far back hoping their men would do most of the work, apparently leading by example was not part of their culture. He felt Marja standing uneasy as she drew her sword, they were beginning to come dangerously close it seemed. Marius took a deep breath and placed his hand upon his old beating heart, he opened his mouth and with an ungodly voice he yelled towards the savages.
“Die!”
The war cry suddenly died out as the savage’s roaring charge had come to a full stop leaving only their echoes behind. The soldiers behind the red pikes stared in disbelief as their comrades fell to the ground without a sound. No wounds did mark their body, no blood did flow, they simply died in the blink of an eye, by the words of a speaker.
The army stood uneasy in its tracks having never witnessed such magic, such power, soon the first savage started to walk backwards and Marius knew the battle was won. The army bolted no matter how much their chieftains screamed at them, leaving their fallen comrades in the cold snow behind them. Their dead eyes fixated on a wall they would never reach and a pale face of surprise. Marius had always taken comfort in the thought that the lives he took, were taken so fast that no man, woman, or child ever had the time to comprehend their situation, never had the time for regret or sorrow. He had always seen it as a peaceful death or at least he had convinced himself that it was. Marius shuddered and dragged the blanket closer as he began the descent of the wall with Marja quick to help him. He was always weak after such a spectacle though he had to admit that these past years his commands had left him weaker and weaker. He had always known such work, such words, would slowly strip away his breath and take his life at some point, but in his younger years, it had always seemed more like a frightening tale than the reality it truly was. He did not know how many more words he had in him and he had a feeling Marja knew this as well, she had been more attentive of late.
With their feet firmly planted on the ground once again, Marja left to get the horses ready. They would have to ride back to the army camp, and the generals, with the battle result as soon as possible. The generals would then hastily send a courier to the capital with news of victory, the Emperor was not a man known for his patience. Marius leaned up against the wall looking up at the gray sky, a storm was brewing. He hoped they would reach the camp in good time and avoid it, he couldn’t wait to get his aging bones out of this dreadful cold. As a young man he had yearned for adventure oh how things had changed. Twenty years ago a victory such as today would have filled him to the brim with pride. Five years ago he would have felt naught but the weight of the lives he had taken, but now, now he only felt weak, tired, and cold.
The sun danced in the snow across the cold and barren land that was the empire’s northern territories, the cold seethed deep into the bones of any foreigner not accustomed to the harsh and unforgiving environment. Frankly, Marius didn’t understand why they’d taken these lands in the first place, they seemed more trouble than they were worth. Marius’ steed, Boulta, winched as it made its way through the deep and treacherous snow. Though there, supposedly, laid a road beneath the thick layer of snow it was impossible to tell where. Roads had been the first thing the empire built when it took these lands, roads that nobody could find and thus couldn’t use. It had been better had they built sleds like the locals, yet the empire heeded no advice from foreigners, even as they occupied their lands. Marius calmly padded Boulta and whispered to it inspiring and magical words, boosting its spirit and soothing its tired legs. Of course Boultas body had its limits and Marius tried not to push it too hard. Marja however had to push her horse forward without any such tricks, they were to return to the impatient generals as quickly as possible with news of their encounter, and so Marja had sat a hastened speed. The sun lit up the way back to the army base, but a storm followed close behind them, Marius could feel the cold northern wind pushing him in the back. As were it trying to push him back towards whence he came, a request Marius couldn’t wait to oblige. He hoped that as soon as they delivered their message they would make their way back to the capital, the warm weather there was much more agreeable to him. Of course, he would not be allowed to stay in the capital itself, it was too dangerous to have speakers live beside so many people. No, he would be stationed at a small castle a few miles away from the capital, overseen by the Masta order of course. Though its quarters were more humble Marius would take them over these dreadful lands in a heartbeat.
“Do you think we’ll leave for the capital come morrow?” asked Marius
“Yes, I plan to bring the emperor the news of our victory myself” answered Marja
She was still of the age where the emperor’s approval meant all thought Marius, ambition and servitude lay deep in young Mastas. Marius should know, he had known quite a few. yet with age, this desire faded, though their outer appearance was always dutiful and unyielding. A Masta typically died quite young for this reason, though no one seemed to talk about it. Marius seldom saw Mastas older than 40 years. Still, he hoped Marja would live to be far older, either in the order or by escaping from it, however slim that chance would be.
“What will you do first when we return?”
“I’ll go to the empero..” began Marja to repeat
“After that I mean”
Marja thought for a moment “A visit to the bathhouse”
“Ah a wonderful idea” agreed Marius, they hadn’t had a proper bath in months. “I could live there for a month, just floating about with a cherry wine resting on my belly” smiled Marius
“We won’t be home long” said Marja coldly “The enemies of the empire seldom linger”
“Oh but there are more speakers than me and more Mastas than you, I doubt a couple of weeks of wine and relaxation should see the empire crumble. Surely it doesn’t rest on our shoulders alone” voiced Marius
“Alone or not, we’ll go where we’re needed” retorted Marja as she sent him a short glance, her eyes lit by the flame of the dutiful and the borderline fanatical. Marius sometimes forgot how young she really was, too young for jest. Still, he knew her words were colder than she intended, and though most of them were dismissive Marius kept talking, if a Masta wanted you to shut it they would simply tell you.
“Of course we will” said Marius in a soothing voice as the subject had run its course. It was a difficult game to get Marja to talk but a game he enjoyed playing.
“Interesting tactics deployed by these savages” began Marius innocently
Marja shrugged “They hadn’t fought against a speaker before”
“It’s a shame so many lives had to be lost” sighed Marius, though his consciences were not more than a whisper these days the numbing feeling of guilt still washed over him from time to time.
“THEY attacked us”
“Well the empire is partly to blame, we did take their lands in the first place”
“Liberated” corrected Marja
“I doubt the prisoners of war working in the Teja mine would agree, or their war-torn families for that matter”
“They took up arms, they chose a side”
“When the choice stands between defending your home and succumbing to a foreign invader, then most don’t see a choice at all”
“They lived in caves, Speaker” retorted Marja “Sacrificed their own people for a good harvest, turned against each other every chance they got. They were nothing but savages, yet we’ve brought them food, warm homes...”
“Roads?” jested Marius
“Stability” berated Marja “Some people are better off serving than ruling”
“I fear the emperor think that of all people but himself”
Marja suddenly stopped her horse and turned towards Marius “Don’t say such things Speaker” In her eyes laid a mix of plea and threat. “I know you jest, but a Masta can never tolerate such spoken insolence, please take it back” Marja’s hand fell to her sword handle.
Marius bowed his head “I apologize my dear Masta, a slip of the tongue”
Marja nodded and then steered her horse onward once more. A silence followed, Marius had become more careless in his older years. To criticize the Emperor, especially as a speaker, would usually cost your head. Though her voice sounded cold he knew she merely berated him out of worry, a colder Masta would have simply taken his head on the spot. As they rode for a few moments to the sound of the crumbling snow alone, Marius finally broke the silence again.
“Do you think they’ll return?”
“Our job was to show them the true power of the empire, a display of force they’d never seen, meant to send them cowering” began Marja “But if they do return... It won’t be as easy”
Marius nodded in agreement “How would you prepare Saint Mera for such future attacks”
“I would set up a permitter, hire locals and form them into a scout regiment having them run patrols 5 times a da...” a stream of ideas began to flow from Marja. Her eyes lid up when she talked about things like tactics and battle preparations, Marius smiled at her enthusiasm. He didn’t much care for the subject itself, but the way she talked and the fire she spoke with, it was the most genuine version of Marja he would ever hear. So he simply fell back into his saddle and peaked his ears, as the words she spoke sent spiking chills of youthful passion through Marius’ dried old bones and aching heart.
