Imprudent: Chapter 14: Mysteries

Again, we have no idea why the mirror arrays and a few planetary structures survived when everything else we have been able to find has evidently failed, and often failed in gruesome manners. But that will have to wait for a followup mission that has more resources for a proper investigation, as stated earlier. Our onboard databases do not have sufficient detail on this system for us to be able to make any comprehensive analysis. What makes the roughly a thousand structures we detected remaining on the planet unique, unlike the obliterated structures of the urban areas that once stretched across parts of the planet? Lt. Alphonsoni’s place of birth was a city of nearly a hundred million people stretching for over four thousand square kilometers, and is now a vast forest and steppeland—although the foundations of buildings are still evident underneath the soil as regular hills and small valleys throughout the area.

###

Lady Fiaswith of House Rechneesse

As they approached the Gehtun settlement, Fia glanced over at Raavi. The young man was still stewing from the burial site, but from Fia’s perspective, she was baffled for a completely different reason. Why had the Gehtun oathwalkers given such care to the dead who they had killed? She’d seen enough atrocities over the years to tell the difference between a mass grave and a caring burial. Just… why? Were they offerings to their gods? If so, why the sudden change? Had there been a coup or something that had shifted things here? Or something else?

The oathwalker leader motioned for them to stop and then walked on ahead towards the settlement. It wasn’t much; it looked like stone buildings thatched with grass of some sort, but the smoke issuing from the tops showed that they were currently inhabited. Some square-ish shapes in the snow could be smaller outbuildings.

Two figures with spears stood outside, and the oathwalker leader went up to them and started to speak.

“Think we’re about to get attacked?” Zoy asked.

“No,” Fia said. “If they wanted to attack us, they would have had us come in first. Here, we can run away, and with the wind picking up, we could probably make a break for it. No, they’re probably going up and saying, ‘You would not believe what followed us home. Please don’t try to kill them, it would hurt.’”

She heard Oksyna snort.

Still, despite her own words to the contrary, she put her hand near the hilt of her sword. Just in case one of the guards wasn’t in the mood to listen or overreacted…

The guard and the oathwalker spoke back and forth, and the guard craned his neck in the universal body language of ‘You’ve got to be kidding me”, looking over Fia’s group.

Finally, after some more back and forth, the guard turned and went inside.

“That’s a good sign, right?”

“Probably has to clear it with the local leadership,” Fia said.

“‘It’ being what?”

“Either bringing us in or attacking us,” she said.

“Great.”

A commotion started up inside of the thatched buildings, and Fia tensed a little, but a short while later, one of the buildings disgorged a group of people wearing well-made woolen coats trimmed with fur, one of them carrying a large elaborate staff, and she relaxed. Good. The People With Authority had arrived.

The staff-wielder came up to them, and a woman’s voice came from behind the winter mask, in clipped, heavily accented but understandable tones. “I greet you, Eastern Travelers. You seek an audience with his Highness, King Fakarat the Fourth?”

Fia bowed. “We do. We are coming on behalf of King Luitpoold the Second of your neighboring kingdom of Westerfellsen, on the other side of the mountains,” she said, breaking out her most formal tones and hoping that there wouldn’t be a formal dinner. She’d gotten better under Faalk’s tutelage, but she doubted that the table manners would translate between the two cultures.

“Good. Then you have our hospitality. Come in and know that no harm will come to you in our households so long as you swear to threaten none and break no laws. Once you have been rested, fed, and bathed, we will dispatch you to the King.”

Fia relaxed. “I have a deathspeaker here with me. Given… recent events, would you take it as insult if I asked that she bind us to that promise?”

The woman scoffed. “In ordinary times? I would. But these times are far from ordinary. Cast your spells to bind my oath and then come inside. It is cold out here!”

Oksyna smiled and stepped forward. “All right then…”

#

Zoy

“They’re worried about something.”

Zoy nodded as she squeezed some of the sweat out of her hair. “Yeah, I got that too. What did you notice?” she said to Oksyna. The younger woman was seated on one of the wooden benches in the sauna, scrubbing; the five of them had been given sole use of the sauna, and Zoy was enjoying it. The small wood-lined room was hot, filled with steam and dimly lit by lanterns of eastern manufacture; all in all, it was so nice after so long out in the cold, and it gave them time to talk and plan.

“Impressions, mostly. A lot of them are looking at us like they’re scared… but also hopeful?”

Stylio, leaning against the wooden wall with her eyes closed, spoke. “There are a great many of them awake for this size of a settlement at this time of year. The buildings are overcrowded. They do have sleepers underground, assuming that they can be trusted when they told us where not to go and why, but they’re clearly stretched.” She shifted slightly, making her tattoos flex. “I don’t know what the problem they are facing is, but something has happened.”

“I wish that they’d just say something?” Fia said grumpily from her corner of the sauna, where she sat in a towel, her legs up on the bench and her eyes closed as well. “But no, we have to go see their king.”

“Yeah. If you want, I could try sneaking out and listening in…” Zoy offered.

Fia cracked open an eye and looked at her. “And that would work how when you don’t understand their language?”

Zoy frowned. “Point. Damn.” She shook her head and turned to Yufemya. “You all right? You’re looking like you’re a thousand miles away.”

The other woman blinked and shook herself, sending the gem she wore around her neck bouncing above her towel. “Sorry. Woolgathering. And I have nothing to add, really.”

“Fair enough. So where do we go from here?”

“Well, they fed us already and Raavi is getting scrubbed down somewhere. So apparently next we get some napping in before they send us off with an escort to their king. And then we finally find out what is going on,” Fia said.

“Indeed. So while this sauna is quite nice, I suggest we finish up and get going. Time is wasting,” Stylio said, and rose. Fia’s eyes flicked over her, and Stylio noticed. “There a problem?”

“Admiring your ink,” she said. “I never could get any, for obvious reasons. They look… significant.”

Stylio nodded and shared a glance with Zoy. “Yes. Yes they are. A reminder of where I came from and who I was.” She wrapped a towel around herself and rose. “I believe there is a pool of cold water next. Should be bracing.”

“I never understood that part,” Oksyna said. “You spend all of this lovely time warming up and then you go and plunge into some cold water? Sounds masochistic to me.”

Zoy glanced at her. “How are you not sweating?”

“Necromancer. Tolerance to heat and cold is one of the fringe benefits,” she said with a smile. “I am sweating, but not like you are.”

Scoffing, Zoy said, “Then a cold water plunge shouldn’t bother you at all.”

“Just because I can tolerate it doesn’t mean I enjoy it.” She leaned back, picked up a bundle of grasses and started to use them to scour her skin. “This is much better. We’ll be cold enough for long enough soon enough. I’m going to bask like a lizard on a rock at midsummer while I can.”

“You’re not what I expected from a necromancer,” Yufemya said with a smile.

“What? You expected someone to make compliments about your skeleton or deliberately being as unsettling as possible? Someone who looks over random passersby like they’re picturing them tied to an altar or something?” Oksyna smirked as Yufemya shrugged and Zoy snorted.

“That’s a vivid word picture. Are most of your… colleagues like that?”

“Nah. Oh, sure, most of them play it up for expectations and maybe a few of them really go for it, but those of us who I’ve met are pretty businesslike over the whole thing.” Oksyna shrugged. “I think some of it is also just… blending in?” She waved the bundle about a bit. “Like if your milk turns sour and the chickens die, the man who dresses in black and decorates with skulls is probably going to be first on your list of suspects.” She got back to scrubbing with the bundle, a small smile on her face. “On the other hand, if everyone expects it of you, you might as well go for it, and since they’re going to be treating you with suspicion anyway, it can be fun to mess with them.”

Zoy gave her a flat look that made Oksyna snicker. “So how much have you been messing with us?”

“Very little, in fact. But I will admit that when I was fourteen, I experimented with entering towns with a big creepy staff covered in bones and weird carvings and bellowing ‘Who hath summoned me, foolish mortals!?’” She shrugged. “That… didn’t end too well.”

“Oh, but now I’m curious,” Yufemya said with a grin, leaning in and putting her chin on her hands, which were folded on top of her knee.

“Not much to say. Torches, pitchforks, rioting townsfolk… still solved their revenant problem.” She shrugged. “Kind of sad, really. Neglected man, swore revenge on the town… honestly, I would have said that he was in the right, but, well. If he’d had some specific complaint or goal, I might have helped satisfy that, but general animosity was a bit too much.”

“Can’t imagine why…” Yufemya breathed, her tone dust-dry. She turned to Zoy. “So, up for going for this cold plunge with me? Since Oksyna is doing her lizard impression?”

Zoy grinned. “All for it.”

The two of them made their way out of the sauna, and, bracing themselves, jumped into the icy water. It was a shock, but Zoy embraced it with gusto, and it was fun to watch Yufemya flail a little as they sat in the pool of chilled water, which had chunks of ice floating in it.

“Ahhh! I think I’m going to freeze bits off!”

“Nah, you’ve got a few minutes before that happens,” Zoy said with a grin. “Come on, back in before Stylio complains that she has to fix frostbite.”

“G-g-good idea,” Yufemya said, shivering.

The two of them climbed out of the pool, and went back in, and found the others sitting outside of the sauna. Switching from towels to robes, the two of them took their own seats.

“So, I did some thinking,” Stylio said.

“And?” Zoy prompted.

“Here we have a more controlled space and we’re about to go and meet the Gehtun king on his own territory. Now, while I did some predictions back in Westerfellsen when we had stops in the cities, I think that it would be wise for all of us to do our best after we next wake to try to ask a question.” She nodded towards the crystal around Yufemya’s neck. “I brought mine, and I see that you brought yours. What do you say?”

Yufemya blinked and then nodded. “I’ll try to remember. I’m never very good at remembering to hold my Breath when I wake up in unfamiliar places.”

“That’s fair,” Fia said. “So what sorts of questions would we ask?”

“‘Are we walking into a trap if we go to this king?’” Zoy offered.

“Good one. Nice and simple, yes or no. Given that our setup is going to be simple, we should also aim for the same. Others?”

“‘Is there a way for us to broker peace?’” Fia suggested.

Stylio shook her head. “Too broad. So long as there’s a way, the die will probably come up ‘yes’.”

Fia frowned and sighed. “I hate how loopholed these can get.”

Oksyna snickered. “You should try my job. And I have a suggestion. ‘On a scale of Negligible to Mortal Peril, how dangerous will it be to get the oathwalkers to return to their homeland?’”

“That’s… starting to get beyond the realm of what we can handle with what tools we have here,” Stylio said. “And don’t say that you brought more. I know that you didn’t.”

“Point. Maybe we can ask the locals for help in that regard?”

“Are you sure they even have the same tradition of Waking Breath Fortunes?” Stylio asked.

“Why wouldn’t they? They have Breath, don’t they?”

“I… don’t know.”

Zoy frowned and glanced at Yufemya. “Do you know?”

She shrugged. “We can just ask them.”

“But can we trust the answers? They’re refusing to tell us anything about the king.”

“Indeed,” Stylio said. “And I think that Oksyna’s question is good, but can use some refinement.”

They discussed it around for a bit after leaving the sauna and rejoining Raavi, and then prepared to sleep in shifts, so that they could help the sleepers wake up and use their Morning Breath to cast predictions. Raavi, for his part, admitted to having brought his own die and a small pouch of sand, giving them that much more capability.

Looking around the small room they’d been given—bigger than their tent, but not by much—Zoy saw Yufemya smiling at her as her head hit the pillow. And she couldn’t help but smile back.

The next thing she was aware of, Stylio was helping her up and holding her hand over her mouth and nose. “Breathe,” she instructed, holding up the small quartz die.

Zoy Breathed out her first Breath upon waking, the colors different, meaning that it had worked. The gem glowed, and she sagged. “Urgh. I hate that.”

“I know. Ask your question, quickly.” Stylio pointed to the tray of sand.

“Uh…” She shook her head of sleep-woven cobwebs, divided the tray in half for yes and no, and asked if they were going into a trap.

The die landed on no.

But the face…

Stylio leaned in. “Uncertainty.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that probably others are also attempting to divine the future, and it’s growing cloudy as a result. But I’ll take it,” she said, and stroked Zoy’s forehead gently. “Well done.”

Zoy basked in her praise and her attention. They had a long way to go, for sure, but this was a good omen.

#

Raavi ava Laargan

“All right, I wasn’t expecting this,” I said as we sailed over the snow and ice, the wind at our backs. The Lynx was making a good ten or fifteen miles an hour between the wind and the downhill slope. Going back was going to be achingly slow, but for now, we were going at a good clip. And so was our escort.

“Makes sense, though?” Oksyna said, nodding towards the skiing Gehtun men and women around us; laden with packs, they were going cross-country on their skis with the ease of practice. “They’ve got an even better terrain for it than you do. Very few trees.”

“Oh, it makes perfect sense. I just wasn’t expecting it,” I said, even as I steered us around a mound of snow that could have been anything from a random lump to a boulder. But the land was very flat, and the wind blew across it without anything to really slow it down. None of the careful groves that typified my homeland were visible anywhere in the view that stretched for miles. Even the mound I had just steered us around had been only a few feet high.

“Where do they get oilsap, or tree-wool or anything else like that from?” I pondered. “You can get some textiles from other plants, but what are they burning for fuel if they don’t have access to trees?”

“I have a theory, but you won’t like it,” Stylio said.

“I’m listening?”

“They have sheep and horses. Dried dung.”

I blinked. “Ewww.”

“I said you wouldn’t like it!”

“But why not just plant some nice groves?” I asked.

“Water, probably. An oilsap grove needs a lot of it,” Stylio said. “And this land is supposedly mostly grassy.”

“Lot of snow on it now,” I pointed out.

“And that’ll melt in a few months, and it depends on how much rain it gets in the summer,” she responded. “And snow doesn’t melt down to that much water.”

Frowning, I thought of the summer thunderstorms coming off of the Center Sea, that routinely drenched my home with pounding rain and wind. Wouldn’t they just go over the mountains and hit here? I’d have to ask, but it seemed fair to say.

A cluster of lights appeared on the horizon off to our left, and I waved to one of the skiers to draw their attention. They shifted course to come over to us, and I pointed towards the lights.

They shook their head and pointed in the direction we were going.

I sighed.

“Guess we still have a ways to go,” Lady Fia said from her spot manning the sails.

“I guess,” I said, and nodded towards the skier, who threw me a thumb’s up and returned to their place in the formation. I bit down on some complaints about the tedium; I, at least, got to sit, unlike the Gehtun.

Finally, hours later, a light ahead of us appeared on the horizon, and the skier came over and pointed.

“Looks like we’re almost there!” I called out, and keeping my eyes forward, I watched the light.

But over the next hour, it became apparent that it wasn’t another village or town, like the one we had rested at. The light rose over the horizon, slowly, a dim glow that grew brighter as we drew closer to it at the speed of a galloping horse.

I gasped when I realized what it was.

Perhaps half the height of the King’s Tower, overlooking a thin grove of trees on the shores of a frozen-over lake, was a glorious sculpture of a woman, wrought in crystal and immortal glass, her hands outstretched and holding a bowl of glowing flames, her robe streaming into the winds.

“It’s beautiful…” Oksyna breathed.

Several smaller buildings around the woman’s ankles resolved themselves as we approached, and the skiers signaled for us to stop and hold back.

We did so, looking up at the woman-building. “Did anyone know about this?”

Stylio shook her head. “Hmm. I did not. Someone back in your kingdom might have known, but whatever diary or report or academic monograph they have on it never reached general circulation.”

“And why not?” I said, my eyes tracing over the lines of the woman’s figure. Whichever long-ago sculptor had crafted it, he had had an eye for symmetry and proportion. I was willing to bet that if I actually looked at the sculpture as a whole, it would seem disproportionately large at the top… but from down here, it looked perfect.

It was beautiful, and I hoped that I would get the chance to sketch it before we left.

“I’m betting because people dismissed the idea,” Yufemya said softly. I turned to look at her. “Think about it,” she said. “Outside of the Dormelion Empire, there are perhaps a hundred of these buildings around the entire Center Sea, each of them famous and iconic. And since everyone knows that…”

“Who would believe the tall tale of another one on the other side of the mountains?” Zoy finished with a frown. “Good point.”

I nodded and turned back to look at the gorgeous work of ancient art before me.

Then the escort arrived, and we were brought inside, into the ancient palace-sculpture of the Gehtun.

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