Salt Lotus/Night-4
By MunificentPerception
Inside the city…
Holvic’s anima and Caste Mark had faded to darkness, but Wendai shone bright with the residue of ambient Essence. In the minutes since the last skirmish, her display of power had only lessened enough so that the totemic image of the silver-skinned woman had vanished. Thus still illuminated, it made sense for Hovlic to precede some yards before her to surprise any foe who might be rushing towards the Night Caste Solar’s radiance. Her companions walked behind her, prepared to defend against attacks from the rear or front with their bows and few remaining arrows.
Holvic’s advance nearly cost the wandering woman her life. She appeared around a corner, moving with such swiftness that she was nearly upon the sword priest before Wendai could shout a warning. Holvic turned with his blade held low; prepared to cut diagonally and upwards through his opponent. The wandering woman skidded to a halt, her dire lance of meteoric iron held in one hand and an expression of mischievous joy on her face.
“Well met, Resplendent Sun!” she exclaimed in Fire Tongue.
“My mentor, since my Exaltation,” Wendai explained when she caught up to them. Her soldiers fanned out around the three Exalts to keep watch on the different avenues of approach. “It was she who brought me to this city to rescue a fellow Child of the Sun.”
“I am a servant of Heaven, sent to act as a humble instructor and guide, if you will have me,” the wandering woman explained, cheerfully.
“A guide filled with false modesty,” Holvic observed.
“True. Certitude and at least the pretence of polite humility are two requisites expected of Yu-Shan’s messengers,” the tawny-eyed woman replied smugly. “I can offer confidence in abundance, though humility in lesser amounts.”
“Or perhaps just in appearance,” Wendai remarked, though she seemed more amused than annoyed by the verbal sparring that was developing between Holvic and the mendicant.
“Better the countenance of modesty than its utter absence,” the wandering woman countered with a Scavenger Lands proverb. “But we should concern ourselves with military matters just now. A ship and three Children of the Sun wait for us in the dock district.”
Holvic glanced at Wendai, and she nodded, indicating her trust of the wandering woman. The Exalts and soldiers set out, speeded by the enveloping blessing of Mercury, but they had only covered a city block when five thunder birds descended from the sky in streaks of fury. Two of the powerful elementals of the air retained the forms of war-like eagles and perched on flanking buildings. The other three took to the street in front of the Exalts, wearing the shape of men in feathered cloaks. Their gleaming hairless heads were adorned with white cedar wreaths, and each bore a fire-blackened club of ironwood, reinforced by bands of sun-touched orichalcum.
The centermost of the man-shaped thunder birds addressed the wandering woman in Riverspeak.
“Go back, Chosen of Mercury,” he said, his voice like rolling thunder, echoing off the buildings along the street.
“I was promised no interference from the forces of this city in exchange for my haste in removing the Solar Exalted,” the wandering woman answered in a clarion voice. Wendai heard her comrades stir behind her. They were surrounded.
“And you have fulfilled our agreement admirably.” The voice that spoke these words was an instrument perfectly crafted for the telling of stories. It rose and fell, conveying a sense of meetings well carried out and pledges fulfilled. Its enunciation was precise, with immaculately both crisp consonants and vowels that brimmed with emotion to make mortal listeners melt.
The three Exalts turned and found a long-limbed, travel-toughened man in his middle years. Like the wandering woman, he wore a broad traveling hat, which hid most of his face and revealed only a chin covered in glinting, iron whiskers. A divine yellow halo shone around his head, and the wandering woman bowed low.
Wendai leaned near to Holvic and whispered. “I do not understand the language of these lands.”
“I will translate as best as I am able,” he replied. Around the Exalts and elementals, an unseen bell of silence descended, cutting off all sound from outside the small area that they occupied, and preventing their voices from being overheard by observers.
“You have worked with due speed, attempting to avoid an open, or at least large conflict, and you are as near to accomplishing your ends as can be expected under the circumstances,” the illuminated man said.
The wandering woman licked her lips nervously. “Spinner of Glorious Tales,” she addressed him. “There was not one, but four of the Sun’s Children within your city. Three remain on a ship near your docks. If I am to take these Solars out of the city and remove the threat of large-scale bloodshed from Great Forks, I must reach that ship.”
Holvic translated this and added, “We are in the presence of a god of regional power, one of the three who rule this city.”
Wendai nodded.
“The remaining forces of the Wyld Hunt are moving to encircle the docks as we speak,” the city god said, and his words carried an utter certainty of combat and tribulation. “Meanwhile, the road I stand on will lead you unhindered out of the city, free from opposition by your many enemies. However, if you attempt to gain the harbor and cut your way through the soldiers of your rival and Lord Sesus, it will result in the type of fighting that the triumvirate wishes to avoid. Both our citizens and our property are dear to us.”
“My mandate does not permit me to sacrifice the Exalts on that ship. And should Lord Sesus and his allies attempt to assail the Salt Lotus, battle on a destructive scale could easily result. One of the Solars is a warrior of the Dawn Caste, and at least one of the other two carries the shard of a sorcerer of the Adamant Circle.”
Spinner of Glorious Tales cleared his throat in warning, conveying with inhuman clarity his exact assessment of just how little he thought it likely that three Solars — only newly come into their Exaltations — would be able to withstand the onslaught of and elder Dragon-Blooded Dynast and his Exalted companions. With this established, he continued. “You may take some comfort in that I have dispatched a message to the captain of your hired vessel, instructing him to depart at once. That evens the odds, making it much likelier that the Sun’s Chosen will escape with a minimum of bloodshed.”
“I can not abandon-”
“Orich Lythe,” Tale Spinner said, “Your mandate comes from your fellow conspirators in the Gold Faction; it is not an official decree of the division of The Barque of the Heavens. Your agreement with us is still another matter entirely, one that speaks of right of ways and authorizes you only the most expeditious routes to complete your task. The fastest avenue of travel is the one that I now direct you to take.”
The wandering woman’s face was carefully blank. After a brief pause, she spoke. “Thank you for your generosity Lord Tale Spinner. If you would assign us guides out of the city, we would be grateful.”
Spinner of Glorious Tales nodded and then turned to Wendai and Holvic. “My apologies, Princes of the Earth,” he said in flawless Firetongue. “Had there been another way, we would have offered sanctuary.”
Wendai scowled back at the god of wandering storytellers and beside her, Holvic’s face hardened as well. The way of the warrior was one of brutal determination. While victory oft went to those best able to understand the terrain and other factors of battle, almost as regularly it was taken by those whose indomitable will overturned long odds and found openings within otherwise impossible situations. Thus a willingness to compromise was not a trait often engrained in soldiers.
Nor was Spinner of Glorious Tales oblivious to the reaction that his words had engendered in his listeners. “My city can ill afford to overly antagonize the Realm at this time, divided as the Dynasts may be. Certainly not after Mishaka,” Tale Spinner explained before fading into the paving stones of the street. The two warriors were left to grudgingly mull over the god’s words. Some years before the Mask of Winters had overrun Thorns, that city’s potentate had been persuaded by his Dynastic advisors to mount a campaign of conquest against the Scavenger Lands. Great Forks had answered the Confederation of Rivers’ call, and dispatched a force of 3,000 to serve under the direction of Lookshy’s 7th Legion. The war had been won, but a debacle during the climatic confrontation at Mishaka had resulted in fewer than 100 of the city’s daughters and sons returning home. Even in the far South of the world, the generalities of the Realm’s defeat and the tribulations of the Scavenger Lands were well known.
“He does as he must, as do we,” The wandering woman said quietly, and Wendai looked at her. Lythe, the god had addressed her as Lythe. Wendai knew that she had heard the name before from the wandering woman’s own mouth, but now, for the first time, it remained fast in her memory.
“Let’s go. We must retrieve your mounts and be on our way,” the wandering woman said.
“To where?” asked Holvic.
“To intercept that ship. If not in the city, then outside,” Wendai said, divining the wandering woman’s — Lythe’s — intentions and planning ahead. That is, we will intercept it if our fellow Solars survive, she thought, keeping that observation a private one.
Next: /Eclipse-4 Back to: /Twilight-4
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This is a work of fan fiction set in White Wolf’s Exalted fantasy setting and is no way meant to challenge White Wolf’s copy rights or trademarks. The characters Joyous Gift, Mirror Flag, Ribbons of Sorrow, Shield of a Different Day, Spinner of Glorious Tales and Weaver of Dreams of Victory, as well as the city Great Forks are trademarked White Wolf Property.
