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Authors: Nicholas Alexander

Bacorium Legacy (68 page)

BOOK: Bacorium Legacy
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“I see,” Luca said. That's what Selphie had said, more or less.

“Which is what we will be doing,” Marcus continued. “So naturally, one would think we were at a disadvantage. That's what that old coward Zaow thinks. But he's wrong. We have an army that outnumbers Zinoro's three-to-one. He expects that we will march that army through the southern forest, and emerge to his own forces in ambush. That is not the case.”

“How else will we enter Acaria, then?” Luca asked.

Marcus smirked. “Saeticia is the land closest to Acaria. I know the land well, and what the other kings do not know is that there is another way into Acaria. There are gaps between the mountains of the east and west, and the forest, where one can pass through. These are too small to lead three armies through, but splitting the forces in half will work. This is the decision we've come to. Edmund will go west with his army, and use the pass in the west. Zaow and I will take the pass on the east, through the emptied lake, which is close to where we are now.”

“I see,” Luca repeated, considering this. Attacking on two fronts would weaken their strength, and make coordination difficult, but it would also make defence a challenge for Zinoro. As Marcus said, their total troops likely outnumbered Zinoro's three-to-one, so even splitting up, they would still be able to handle direct assaults.

“Is that all you have to say?” Marcus asked him.

“It sounds like a good plan,” Luca said. “I'm no general, but I think Zinoro will have trouble holding us back. I only wonder why you're sending Edmund and his army to the west, and keeping your own and Zaow here, rather than splitting the total forces in half.”

“A good question,” Marcus said. “There are loyalty issues to consider, for one. My own men or Zaow's might be hesitant to follow another king. But it is not quite an uneven split, of course. Torachi is a military nation, and Edmund has the largest army between the three of us. He even brought two generals with him, while Zaow and I only brought one.

“The other thing to consider is that the two attacks will not happen at the same time. It will take likely a week or more for Edmund's forces to cross the distance to the other side of the forest. We will be setting off at first light.”

“So if need be, Edmund's army can come to our aid?”

“Correct,” Marcus said. “Hopefully, it will not come to that, but one must always prepare for the worst.”

The king looked out into the distance, a strange look in his eyes. “I know what motivates you, Luca, son of Lodin. I know what it is to desire vengeance against someone. And I understand what justice is. Knowing which side of that border you stand on is necessary if you intend to ever take up arms against a monster like Zinoro. That Acarian man - the one who was among my guards - he put ideas in the head of my second son, and made him conspire against me. It is only natural that I should want him dead for that, and at first, I did. But this is not why I am here now.”

Luca wondered how true that really was.

“I am here to bring justice to an honourless man,” Marcus said in a determined tone. “And after hearing your speech in the Elder Hall, I believe you are here to do the same.” He looked to Luca. “I may not have liked your father much, but your brother was right. You are not him. That is why I am going to trust you.”

Marcus took a step back, and in a swift movement, drew the blade from his side. The steel of the blade flowed with mana, and was engulfed in white fire that brightly illuminated the area around them.

“This is
Altair
,” Marcus told him. “In the past, it was carried by the commander of the Saetician paladin's order, and used to destroy evil wherever it lurked. When that order died, I took it with me and made it the sword of Saeticia's royal family. When I die, and my son Halt takes the throne, it will be his sword.”
 

Luca stared at the blade, feeling the power radiating from where Marcus stood. The king's magick was nothing spectacular, but Luca could feel that power amplified an incredible degree by the power of the Fragment. It was the same power he had felt from the sword in Eccador, and from the blade Zinoro carried.

“I have grown old,” Marcus said. “I am not the warrior I once was.” He sheathed the blade, the energy and the white fire disappearing as he did. “Years of sitting on the throne have dulled my combat instincts. I doubt I could win if I faced Zinoro on the battlefield. These days, I am a better leader than a fighter.” The king returned to Luca's side, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “That is why I want you to be the one who wields
Altair
when the battle comes.”
 

“Wh-what?”

Marcus grinned, amused at his surprised reaction. “You weren't expecting that? I can't say I blame you. If our positions were reversed, I don't think I would trust me.”

“You said the sword was the treasure of the paladins, and now the treasure of your family,” Luca said slowly. “So why would you let me - the son of a man you hated - use it?”

“A good question,” Marcus said. He looked back out to mountains in the distance. “But you should already know the answer. You are the son of Lodin, the man who killed Zinoro's father. It seems fate has a sense of humour. And while I am a man who values honour above all else, I understand that sometimes things must be sacrificed for the greater good. Neither myself, nor my son, has the talent that you do - your strange ability to survive injuries that would kill any other man.”

Luca frowned, thinking of Emila. How could he take that power with him? Would Emila come with him when he marched to Acaria? No, she couldn't. She would have to stay behind - the battlefield was no place for someone like her. And then he almost chuckled, thinking of how he had intended to leave her before - first in Allma, and then in T'Saw. Would she follow him even into the one place she said she couldn't?

“When we make the attack, Zinoro will be there, thinking himself invincible because he has a Rixeor Fragment,” Marcus continued. “And you will lead the vanguard, carrying
Altair
. With my sword, you will slay Zinoro and win the battle for us. Do you accept this, Luca son of Lodin?”
 

He didn't even need to think about it. “I do.”

Marcus smiled. “You understand the severity of this? The weight of the duty I am placing on you? Victory for us all may come down to whether of not you can strike Zinoro down.”

Luca clenched his fist, imagining it was around Zinoro's neck. “With the power of your sword, I can do it. No, I
will
do it.”
 

“When the battle comes, I will give my sword to you,” Marcus said. “When you fight Zinoro, do it not in a vengeful rage, but with the weight of justice behind you. That is how you will beat him.”

With that, Marcus started off, crossing to the steps and starting down them. He stopped for a moment, and said, “We'll speak again tomorrow, before we begin our journey to Acaria. It is good to have you on our side, Luca.”

And then he was gone. Luca let out a heavy breath, and looked out into the night sky over the range of mountains. On the other side of the mountains, Zinoro waited. The man who had murdered his father, who Luca now had the opportunity, means, and even responsibility to kill. He had dreamed of this every night in the months since he had left Arimos. Soon, his father would be avenged.

And yet, he was not supposed to be doing this for Lodin. He was doing it for other reasons. Justice, not revenge. That was what Marcus had been testing him on. He wanted to know if Luca had the conviction to set aside his personal desires and fight for something else.

It didn't matter though, Luca decided. Whether he fought Zinoro in the name of revenge or justice, so long as he had that sword, he would win.

But there was one thing he needed to set aside. Emila had once said she could not follow him to Acaria. Well, he would not make her. He would leave her behind in the camps, and let the connection be severed. He would not need the magick of the tether to keep him alive in the battle, nor would he force her to endure the pain of his injuries.

He turned and descended the steps of the mountain. He would go back to the tent and say his goodbyes to her.

Luca walked through the night's darkness. The other kings and their lords must have already returned to their camps, for the entrance of the Elder Hall was closed, and the soldiers standing guard were gone. Everyone was resting, for in the morning they would set out for war. He passed a few men by fires as he made his way back to the Allman camp, who exchanged drinks and told stories. Some were eager and excited, while others were sombre. In some of these men, he saw the weight of what was to happen. These were men who had seen combat before, and knew what was waiting for them. Luca wondered if they expected to survive the battles ahead.

Finally, he reached the Allman camp. He saw Tranom by the same fire as before, but this time his many students were gone. Brand sat on the other side.

Seeing his approach, Brand looked up. “We've heard. Tomorrow, we're going to Acaria.”

“And to war,” Tranom said, his eyes deep in the flickering fire as though he expected to find something hidden in them.

Luca took a seat beside Brand, who passed him a flask. He took a drink, and returned it. “Selphie summoned me, to tell them about the revenants. I lied. I told them there were no revenants, because I thought they might not go through with it if they knew what Zinoro was capable of. We're going to war because I decided we should.”

Brand thought about that for a moment, then shrugged. “They would have likely still chose to fight, even if you had told them. In fact, knowing of Zinoro's dark powers might have given them even more reason to fight him. I doubt it made much of a difference.”

“Selphie hates me now,” Luca said. “I insulted Zaow before the other kings. I called him out as a coward.”

“Zaow wants to spare lives,” Tranom said. “Many will die in the battles. Zaow always wanted to find another way. The problem is that the time to settle this peacefully has long passed, and he did not want to accept that.”

“Perhaps,” Luca said. “But I wonder if I've made a mistake. I seemed so sure earlier.”

“War is never a simple thing,” Tranom said. “Simple for the ones who declare it, perhaps, but not for those who carry it out.”

“Wars of the past always seemed to have clear villains, though,” said Brand.

“History is written by the victors,” Tranom said. “The stories tell us their side of the story. The side of those who are beaten is lost.”

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound being the crackling of the flames and the insects in the woods around them.

“We should all get some sleep,” Tranom said. “It's a long march to Acaria, and we leave at first light.”

Brand nodded, and rose. He glanced once more at Luca, and said, “You did what you thought was best, my friend. Remember that. Don't let regrets add weight to your burden.” And then he left, disappearing into one of the tents.

Tranom glanced at the flask, now in his hands, and handed it to Luca. “You can have the rest.” After a moment of thought, he said, “In Acaria, if you fight the way you fought at the temple, we'll be alright.”

“But we lost at the temple,” Luca said.

“Zinoro caught us off guard,” Tranom said. “He had tricks up his sleeve, and he was ready for us. This time, it will be we who will be ready for him.”

Tranom turned and went to his own tent, leaving Luca alone. He looked at the flask for a moment, and took a long drink from it, emptying its contents. His head a bit clearer, he made his way to the tent he shared with Emila. Being careful not to wake her, he stepped inside.

However, she was awake. She was sitting on her bed, dressed only in her thin white small clothes. As Luca entered, she looked up at him. He noticed the bundle in her lap, still wrapped in cloth.

“You were gone for a while.”

“I'm sorry,” he said. “There was a lot that needed done. It's been decided that we're going to Acaria. I'm going to be at the front of the attack. But it'll be okay, because Marcus is going to give me his sword. With it, I can beat Zinoro.”

She smiled a bit, but her eyes were full of sorrow. “I expected that's what it would be. I believe in you, Luca. I always have. But - Zinoro is a monster. I - I don't want to lose you.”

“You won't,” Luca assured her. He moved into the tent and sat down at his own bedroll, across from her. “I promise you I won't die. I - I can't die. If you're with me, I can't.”

Just as soon as the words had left his mouth, he knew what a mistake they were. In his attempt to reassure her, he had said the worst thing he could have. He was giving her two options: to go with him to the place she wanted to go the least, and know he would be safe. Or to remain behind and risk his dying.

But Emila didn't seem upset. She smiled, this time genuinely, and said, “I know. I know you'll be okay. Everyone will be okay.”

With shaking hands, she began to unwrap the bundle in her lap. Luca realised what was happening, and almost moved to stop her, but he knew what a challenge it was for her to do this, and he could not. He wanted to protect her from the things that caused her pain, but doing so would do her more harm than good. She needed to confront her fears, and Luca needed to support her, rather than stop her.

Finally, the last layer of cloth was pulled back, revealing a solid gold lute. As Emila looked at it, tears formed at the edges of her eyes.

Luca moved beside her and put his arm around her shoulder. She leaned into his embrace, but did not take her eyes off the lute. Somehow, he knew exactly what she was thinking.

“You won't lose me, too,” he promised her.

“I know,” she said with a sad smile.

And then, much to his surprise, Emila moved away from him a bit, cradled the lute between her arms, and began to play.

It started with a few hesitant notes, and then gradually she began to remember the way of it, and a melody started to form. It was a simple song she played, one Luca had never heard before, but was yet somehow strangely familiar. After a moment,he remembered he had heard her humming the tune before in their travels.

BOOK: Bacorium Legacy
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