Shadowrun - Earthdawn - Mother Speaks (28 page)

I touched her hand. "That's not true. You have us."

"Yes." She smiled. I felt graced by that smile. "We have each other. But . .."

"... Yes. It's different ..."

"Yes. Different."

Another silence. I thought for a moment of Wia going to war, all the pain in her driving her into a battle from which she might never return, fighting until nothing remained of her. Nothing that would be considered alive. Finally I said, "I don't want to go without you."

She laughed, and I joined her. "No," she said. "No. And I wouldn't want to go without you. You know, it wasn't the fighting that was too much for me. It was how everyone else saw it. I can kill. I can do what needs to be done. But with the trolls, it was almost as if I were alone in the fight, because I didn't see it the same way everyone else did. You know

..."

"... Yes..."

"There's a way the trolls fought, even the women ... That's why I want you there.

Someone who will see it the same way I do. It's not the doing that bothers me. It's feeling like you're wrong because you don't react the same way everyone else does. The Passion of Thystonius. Just competition. Always that competition. What is that? I want to fight to get something done, to help somebody. Not to prove I'm a better fighter than the person next to me."

While Wia spoke, I remembered seeing my Thystonius during the troll war celebration. I hadn't mentioned it to Wia, or to anybody. It had been too strange. And private. But I wanted Wia to know what she meant to me. I told her about the vision, and also the visions of Garlen.

She listened intently as I related everything. When I'd finished, she said, "That's so strange." I looked at her and began to laugh. She joined in.

"It is," I said. Then, "I don't think the Passion of Thystonius is alien to us. But we all perceive the Passions as they make sense to us. I needed that Passion of supernatural competition to save Samael and Torran. But for me, at least, she came as a woman with children to protect."

"Yes. Thystonius didn't come alone. I've heard about people seeing Garlen as a pregnant woman, of course. But Thystonius ... For you she wasn't alone. See? She had someone with her. The child in her belly. I'll bet the trolls never see the Passion of conflict manifest itself as anything but a stack of muscles." We laughed again. "The Passion is all about them, just them. Alone."

"I think you're right."

The door opened. You two came in. Torran, you said, "Momma, the clown is here. He wants to see you."

We all went, of course. After talking with Wia I realized I could not, did not, know how to separate my Passions to be a mother and my need to be a warrior, so I packed both and set out on the
Stone Rainbow
.

Despite all my fears, I let you peek up over the rail and stare out over the green landscape of Barsaive. The sun glittered its light over the jungles below, while storm clouds turned the sky gray to the north and west.

Samael said, "Momma, we're as big as everything! We can see everything!"

J'role came up to us, and stared off the bow. "Releana," he said softly. "I want ..."

"Yes."

"Don't interrupt me."

"I wasn't interrupting, I was saying yes."

He shook his head. "I want to ..."

He paused, stuck.

"Samael. Torran," I said, "This is your father."

You turned and looked up at the stranger. He no longer dressed as a clown. He wore black armor now, shiny and well polished, pirated from a Theran soldier. A long silver sword hung at his side. Both of you eyed it covetously. I became nervous.

J'role smiled, seeing your interest. "You want to learn how to use this?"

You both nodded enthusiastically, then quickly looked up at me to see what I thought of your response.

"J'role, I want them to study elemental magic."

"They should know how to use a sword, no matter what they study."

I swallowed. I didn't want to quarrel. Not in front of the children. "Come here," I said and led him to the other side of the deck. "What you pick up shapes what else you pick up," I told him. "If they learn how to fight with a sword, they'll start thinking as fighters."

"You don't want them to learn how to defend themselves?"

"I don't want them seeking out problems to defend themselves against."

He nodded at this. "All right. I understand. But if they want to learn ..."

"We're parents. We can say no."

"But should we? We're going to war, Releana. The Therans. They should know."

Now I paused. "Yes. Yes, yes, yes." I looked back at the two of you. Your bodies, muscles, already getting so big. "There's really not much choice, is there?"

"Ships ahead!" called the lookout.

Off the bow, still floating like small dots, flew dozens of ships. "What are they?"

"Drakkars," J'role said with a smile. "Krattack has gathered a good dozen crystal raider clans in the effort to break the siege."

"Will that be enough?"

"No. But we've got several t'skrang crews along the Serpent running supplies for us.

They've also lent us money to hire scorcher cavalry mercenaries ..."

"Scorcher mercenaries?"

"Yes," he said with a laugh. "New development from the scorchers. They figured out it would be easier, and usually more lucrative, to get paid to fight rather than wandering around to raid. Some of the tribes at least."

"Looks like you've got it all set."

"No."

"No?"

"No. We have to win."

21

We sailed for many days, traveling north to the Throal Mountains. Scouting reports suggested that most of the Theran forces had gathered around Throal, though some air and ground forces continued the random attacks on the people of Barsaive. Apparently they meant to weaken the spirit of our people so that we wouldn’t do anything to stop the slaughter. I'm sure that it did affect some people that way. But during those days I traveled with people who refused to surrender. The attacks only strengthened our resolve to drive the Therans out of our land.

I watched as J'role taught the two of you how to fight with swords. You practiced with short swords with blunted edges, but this did not assuage my fears. I wasn't so much afraid of you hurting yourselves now, but of what would grow inside you.

On the foredeck J'role rested on his knees, working with you, one after another. He taught you the basic sword cuts and parries, and you repeated them again and again. At first you were both so wild with the swords that I thought J'role would become frustrated and give up. You did not seem to want to learn how to sword fight as much as pretend to be amazing swordsmen.

But J'role knew how to handle this problem. Or rather, he seemed to expect it. His natural affinity for children extended to teaching, and when either of you got out of line, he simply gave you a long look, the expression in his eyes a mixture of harshness and disappointment.

AND IT WORKED! Time and time again you would settle down, glancing down at the ground and then back up at your father, awaiting his next instruction. I couldn't believe it, and I was deeply jealous. It seemed horribly unfair that this man who had been such a small part of your life should exert this much influence over you.

Here came this stranger and you gave him a growing and earnest respect. He told you to do something, and you obeyed not because you feared his anger or that he would take his love away, but because you wanted to please him. I felt a strange sensation in my belly, as if the connection that had tied us since your conception was now unraveling.

Of course, as the days passed, each of you did displease him on occasion. I remember the time you were practicing cuts and parries on the day before we were to meet the scorcher cavalry mercenaries. I had given up watching, for there was no place for me in the activity. But on this occasion I came out to see how you three were doing.

The rest of the crew was busy at work on the rest of the ship. I stood by the castle, leaning against the wall, the high air cool against my face. A heavy mist surrounded us, and droplets of water formed on my skin and cloak. Neither you nor your father had noticed me, and I suppose you thought yourselves completely alone.

Samael, you missed a parry, and J'role's sword touched your shoulder. He did not hurt you with the blade, for he used careful practice strokes. But a true fury blossomed on his face. I had never seen anything like it from him before, and I drew in a sharp breath.

He raised his hand then, slapping you so hard that you fell down to the stone deck. "What do you want to do?" he shouted. "Do you want to die? Can't you understand any of this?"

Too stunned to speak, I began closing the distance between us. Before I could get there, your father had grabbed you by the shoulders, Samael, dragged you up, and then put the blade of his sword against your neck. "Is this what you want to happen? Everyone is out to get you? Do you understand? You can't let your guard down for a moment!"

"J'ROLE!"

He turned, stunned to see me next to him. His face paled, and his eyes lifted skyward as if he had just entered a trance. He stood quickly. "Sorry." He said to me.

"What are you apologizing to me for?” I spoke sharply, and my body did not shake. But inside I felt the fabric of all my sense of reality slipping away too quickly for me to comprehend. Inside my flesh I felt my body begin to disintegrate, and a clear scream struggled to crack through my throat and rip out of my mouth. All of this I fought down, because I knew if I let it out I would lose control of everything. I had no idea what I might do next.

I'd thought I knew your father, the good and the bad. I thought I could handle each part of him, that's why I had struggled to work with him for so long. But suddenly a new part of him had just revealed itself — putting a sword to a child's throat! — his own son! If he was capable of this, what else was he capable of? Memories of his requests for bites that drew blood came back to me, and in combination with this incident, I realized I never wanted to leave him alone with the two of you ever again. I thought I had some special power to draw his pain, to soak it up and keep it focused safely on me — that is, keeping his fury away from the rest of the world. Why had I assumed all of this? I do not know. I thought I had a power over him, to heal him. I do not know. I just don't know. Oh, if only I had known so many years earlier. If only I could have foreseen what would happen ...

The two of you were in tears. You had dropped your swords and were beside yourselves.

J'role knelt down before you. The panic grew stronger in me, and I thought I might just strangle your father on the spot. I knew the powers of his perverse charm, and his ability to apologize for anything. I didn't want him to begin weaving his habit around the two of you.

"Boys!" I said sharply, all my panic and energy rushing out in that one syllable.

Without hesitation the two of you fell in at my side and we walked quickly away returning to our cabin. J'role remained on the deck, kneeling, drenched in the heavy mist.

22

Two days later the Theran War exploded and for three days it continued until its finish.

You were not only present, but you've heard the details hundreds of times, so I will not repeat them. And to tell you the truth, the details of the war do not interest me. Yes, a great deal of cleverness was involved, as well as deeds of bravery and strength. The crux of the strategy — getting t'skrang riverboats up the Coil River and directly into the mountain kingdom of Throal was brilliant. Not only did the success of that operation replenish the kingdom's supplies, but it gave them war materials they needed to successfully wage the battle against the Therans on two fronts — from within the kingdom and from without.

We might well have lost, and it's lucky we did not. But the stratagems and objective theorizing about the conflict are not what interest me.

I saw too many people die useless, senseless deaths. Airships shattered by the fire of Theran fire cannons. T'skrang riverboats sunk as they raced up the Coil. Ground forces smashing against each other like waves of water on rocks, shattering their bones and lives in repeated contests of endurance.

Others have spent years going over and over the matter. For me, it was simply something to be done with, so I could get back to the business of living.

So I will recount but two matters of importance, one from pride and one to do with your father. The first took place before the fighting began, the second at the close of the war.

23

The day before the final battle began, we held a war council on the
Stone Rainbow
. The ship had acquired an extraordinary reputation during the last few months, and as both a captured Theran vessel and a safe and strong ship, its choice as the meeting place of the various factions was both symbolic and practical.

J'role had arranged the tables of the mess hall into a large U shape, so that everyone could see one another during the meeting. There were ork cavalry mercenaries, their bulky bodies covered with chain armor decorated with feathers and paint. Crystal raiders, their massive troll bodies fidgety at the stateliness of the meeting. Quick-witted t'skrang, smiling pleasantly with sharp teeth as their reptilian bodies rested comfortably in the chairs. Dwarfs with battle scarred faces who, had just recently gotten past Theran guards to give us a report on Throal's defenses. Windlings, who preferred to perch themselves on the edges of the table. Elves and others, all committed to breaking the Therans stranglehold and driving their armada out of Barsaive.

The level of cooperation astounded me, for never had I heard of so many different factions working together for a common goal. They had been drawn from all over the province, and worked not for their own gain, but a shared goal.

A tense atmosphere hung over the meeting as an elven warrior from Throal, General Oshia, gave out the details of the upcoming combat. There were disagreements about some matters, but no one underestimated the danger. Those involved simply wanted to make sure they weren't throwing the lives of their followers away.