In Her Name: The Last War (108 page)

“What must I do, my Empress?” Tesh-Dar asked.

“You must return to your roots,” She told her, “to the temple of your order. There shall you learn how to follow the Way, not as would a child in spirit, but as the great warrior that you are.”

“How long?” Tesh-Dar asked.

“You will know,” She said, “when my heart calls to thee.” With one last caress of Tesh-Dar’s face before She turned to leave, the Empress said softly, “May thy way be long and glorious, Legend of the Sword.”

Throughout the exchange with the Empress, Pan’ne-Sharakh had stood in reverent silence. Now, she said, “A gift for you, I have,” she said proudly as she reached down from where she knelt next to Tesh-Dar. In her hands, as she raised it up where Tesh-Dar could see it, was a sword.

“Oh, mistress,” Tesh-Dar breathed. The black scabbard gleamed like a dark mirror. The handle, wrapped in matte black leather, was studded with diamonds that spelled out Tesh-Dar’s name in the Old Tongue. Tesh-Dar felt a deep pang of guilt, suddenly remembering that she had lost her sword, the one Pan’ne-Sharakh had made for her earlier, on the human planet.

Knowing exactly what Tesh-Dar was thinking, the old armorer told her, “The other sword was but a toy compared to
this
.” With a smile, Pan’ne-Sharakh drew the blade partway out of the scabbard, exposing the living metal into which she had poured her soul since Tesh-Dar’s return. It did not simply gleam in the light, it shimmered, as if the metal reflected the water of a pond, its surface driven by the wind. “This is the greatest level of my craft,” she said, “the finest that any of us, in all the ages, has ever done. This, to you, is my gift, that it may see you through the challenges you will face where you now are bound...”

The sword hung as a welcome weight on Tesh-Dar’s back as she rode, with the ancient short sword of the Desh-Ka in its scabbard at her side. 

She brought the
magthep
to a halt for a moment, letting it and its companions catch their breath from the climb up the mountains. It was a long trek from the
kazha
, over thirty days’ travel, to reach this place. Above her, on a massive overhang that jutted out beneath the peak of the mountain, stood the temple of the Desh-Ka. She had last been here when Sura-Ni’khan passed on the stewardship of the order to Tesh-Dar, and the site of it sent a tingle of anticipation down her spine as she urged her
magthep
onward.

The temple was a collection of massive structures built from green stone that once had boasted carvings depicting warriors in battle, telling the tale of the ancients who had first formed the order. The temple had been erected so long ago that the carvings in the hard stone were worn nearly smooth from the work of wind and rain, and most of the structures had fallen into ruin.

Yet the stone was merely a façade, for the true temple was formed by the spirits of her forebears that yet dwelt here. When she had first come with Sura-Ni’khan, many cycles ago, she could feel a presence in the place, could hear the quiet murmur of the Ancient Ones in the Bloodsong. 

Now, she could sense them clearly. Among them, she heard the melody of her own priestess, Sura-Ni’khan, beckoning to her.

Guiding her animals to the entrance to the only part of the temple that had not succumbed to time, a great domed arena, the largest of the structures in this ancient place, she dismounted. After quickly removing the packs she had brought, she freed the animals of their bridles and harnesses.

“Go where you would,” she told them, gently slapping the rump of her mount, sending it trotting off, its companions close behind. She had no need of them here, and she suspected she would be here for quite some time before the Empress called for her. 

Time
, she thought,
in this place has no meaning
. Pushing open the massive door to the ancient enclosed arena, she stepped into the darkness and the embrace of the spirits that awaited her.

DEAD SOUL

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Three Years After First Contact

“Happy Birthday, Allison!”

Allison Murtaugh, now fourteen years old, smiled as her friends and parents clapped and shouted happily. Even her older brother, Shaun, who was nearly ancient at the age of seventeen and almost always a grouch, smiled and slapped his hands together.

Kayla, Allison’s mother, gave her a tight hug. “Blow out the candles, honey!” 

Allison looked at the cake her mother had made, now blazing with fourteen flames. The candles danced in her inquisitive green eyes and added highlights to her wild copper-colored hair as she leaned closer to the cake and drew a full breath.

“Don’t forget to make a wish, Ali!” Elena, Allison’s best friend, held both hands up, fingers crossed.

She’d thought a hundred times of what to wish for, but still wasn’t sure. It was hard to wish for anything more than she already had. It was a perfect day, with clear weather and a light breeze that carried the scents from the fields around the farmhouse to the big porch where they’d gathered. Her parents and brother were here with her, as were her friends, and they’d all had a great time that morning, playing and riding horses.

She’d even gotten everything she’d wanted for her birthday, and more. A new reader to replace the one she’d worn out. Shaun’s favorite hunting rifle, which she’d always wanted but had never expected to have, especially freely given as a gift. And best of all, she’d gotten a brand new saddle, her very own, for her horse, Race, to replace the worn out hand-me-down saddle that had been Shaun’s when he was a little boy.

It was the best birthday she’d ever had, and had been an awesome day so far. 

But it was one awesome day out of an endless string of days that were carved from sheer boredom. Her family made ends meet on the farm, but that was about it. They didn’t have money to take trips, and you couldn’t just up and leave a farm to take a nice vacation for a week or more. 

Her family didn’t even have a vid in the house, let alone a virtual gaming system or any of the other cool things that some of Allison’s friends had. 

Then there was school. It was utter torture, and she was always relieved when school went out of session for the harvests, even though that was really hard work. But she’d rather help her parents in the fields or go hunting with her brother than be cooped up in a stifling class room with Mr. Callaway. They had virtual teachers for many of their subjects, but old Callawag, as the kids called him, felt compelled to comment on nearly everything the virtual teachers said. 

Allison would have preferred to live in one of the cities, or maybe even sail through space on a starship, traveling to faraway exotic planets, or maybe even visit Earth. She wouldn’t want to go anywhere the Kreelans might be lurking, of course, but they couldn’t be everywhere.

That’s it
, she knew.
That’s what my wish is, for a little excitement around here
. 

“Come on, Ali!” Elena was leaning forward, her face only inches now from the flickering candles and the glistening cake icing. Allison knew why she and the other girls were so eager. Allison’s mother made the best cakes in the province, and won first place every year at the fair.

Before Elena could get any ideas about blowing out the candles herself, Allison released her pent-up breath and snuffed the flames to a thunderous round of applause.

As the applause tapered off and Allison’s mother moved in with the knife to cut the cake, an unfamiliar, eerie sound reached them.

“What’s that?” Allison looked up at her father, Stephen.

“That’s not what I think it is...” Kayla set the knife down and moved beside Stephen, taking hold of his arm. They both stared in the direction of Breakwater, a few kilometers away. 

“It is.” Stephen, his brow knitted in concentration, turned to Shaun. “Get the truck, son. Right now.”

“Yes, sir.” Shaun had rarely heard his father speak that way, but when he did, Shaun knew to obey right away. He vaulted over the porch railing and ran for the vehicle shed behind the house.

“Daddy?” Allison’s voice seemed like that of a little girl to her ears, and she didn’t like it. Not at all. “Daddy, what is it?”

“It’s nothing, honey.” Her mother said, turning and taking Allison’s hands. “Don’t worry...”

“It’s the invasion alert.” Her father glanced at her mother, who glared at him. “She needs to be worried, Kayla. That might help keep her and the others alive.” He knelt down in front of Allison and gathered the five other girls closer. “You remember the tests of the new emergency sirens we had last month?” 

They all nodded, and Allison said, “But those were in case there was a fire in town.”

Stephen frowned. “That’s what they told you. But that’s not the truth.” He glanced up at his wife. “The mayor told everyone to say that because he didn’t want to scare folks. But you girls are old enough to know the truth, aren’t you?”

They all nodded, although Allison thought the others were nodding just because they respected her father. The looks in their eyes told her they were all afraid.

She was worried, but unafraid. She was her father’s daughter, and had learned to ride a horse, to fish and hunt. She’d even been with him when he’d killed a neo-bear, one of the few indigenous predator species, that had come after the horses. 

And from her brother she had learned how to defend herself at school from a couple of bullies who had tormented her last year. She’d been suspended for breaking both their noses, and had been grounded at home for a month. But she had overheard her parents talking, and both of them had secretly been proud of her. When she’d asked Shaun about it, he’d only smiled.

“The truth is, that’s the alarm in case the Navy thinks the Kreelans might be coming.” Her father squeezed Allison’s hand. “It’s to give us a heads-up so we can get ready for them, and get you kids to safety.”

They all looked up as three light utility trucks came tearing down the road that led toward town. One of them turned into the long drive to the house, while the other two, both packed with men and women who briefly waved, raced toward Breakwater and the still-screaming sirens. 

“Elena, girls,” Kayla called, gathering them up when she recognized who was driving the truck. It was Elena’s older sister, Danielle. “Time to go.” 

“We’ll see you soon,” Elena said, hugging Allison as Danielle brought the truck to a skidding stop, sending up a cloud of dust. Allison hugged the other girls, who all lived right next to Elena’s house, as they filed off the porch and climbed into the open truck bed.

“What news, Danielle?” Allison’s father called. 

Danielle’s father was the fire chief and the mayor. His house had one of the new network communication systems the Confederation had brought, but most of the rest hadn’t been installed yet, and the local communications network had never worked properly. There was little profit to be made from it here from farmers like Stephen who didn’t see the sense in spending money on it, and the only places that had reliable communications were the government and volunteers who manned the local fire station.

“Daddy only told me that it’s not a drill.” She glanced at the dust trail left by the trucks. “And us
kids
,” she spat the word, “have to stay behind.” Danielle was old enough to drive on Alger’s World, where the legal license age was fourteen, but wasn’t old enough for the Territorial Army training or equipment, which the Confederation had mandated was for ages seventeen and older. “It’s not fair.”

“Let’s just hope it’s a false alarm, shall we?” Stephen didn’t hold out much hope that would be the case, but miracles were always possible. His older brother had seen combat on Saint Petersburg over twenty years before, and had returned home with his left arm and leg missing and his mind caught in an endless nightmare. Stephen had thanked God every day since then that he himself had never had to see combat. He prayed now that his streak of luck would hold.

“Not likely.” Danielle glanced in the mirror to make sure the girls were all sitting down in the old truck’s cargo bed. “Daddy said the alarm would only be triggered by the Navy defense station.”

Stephen’s hopes sank. The defense station was the first and, so far, only orbital weapons platform defending the planet. It was manned by regular Confederation Navy personnel and supported by two corvettes. If they had sounded the alarm, it was for real.

“Damn.” Stephen turned to see his own battered truck pull up, a grim-faced Shaun at the wheel. “Get going, then, and good luck to you, Danielle. You, too, kids,” he called to the other girls. “You be damn careful!”

“Yes, Mr. Murtaugh,” they echoed in unison as Danielle backed away. Putting the truck into drive, she spun the wheels and kicked up a huge cloud of dust as she raced back down the drive to the road, then turned back the way she’d come toward home.

“Maybe we should have sent Allison with her.” Kayla gave him a worried glance.

“No, she’s better off here where she knows her way around.” He looked down at his only daughter. “And we’ve got a better storm shelter than just about anybody, don’t we?”

Allison nodded. The family had always had a storm shelter, because this part of Alger’s World sometimes suffered from tornadoes and violent storms. 

But after the stories of the Kreelans had come across the news channels, after the Confederation had formed to help protect humanity from them, Stephen had taken some precious time from the fields to build a new one. He and Shaun had disappeared into the barn one day with a backhoe, where they dug a tremendous hole in the ground that was nearly four meters deep. Then they built a framework of molds using wood, and filled them with concrete to make a structure that was a third of a meter thick throughout. Steps led toward the surface, with the entrance capped by a ten-centimeter thick steel door operated by an ingenious counterweight mechanism, so even Allison could open it easily. Her father had thought of everything, even a bathroom that only used a little water, pumped in through a pipe from the creek that ran behind the barn.