Young Writers Society

Normally I wouldn't post another chapter so soon after the other, but certain restrictions to my free time have sprung up, and as a result I don't know when I'll be on again.

This one's long, and I don't like it. It's an introduction into the final sweep, and I *hate* those transitions. If you have any suggestions for making it smoother, please, let me know. D:

Rated PG-13 for mild language.

~*~

Mhaea had disappeared, probably to the king, to alert him of the news; they did not miss her. Every day Daeun went down into the city, wearing his most worn clothes, and helped where help could be given. Ianna went with him, many days, and Caelun and Taejon as well, for their magics could be used to heal the sick. He became known, behind his back, as the Benevolent One, and to his face, a carefully pronunciated my lord—and for nearly a month he went about his days thus, until Genor had achieved a sort of glimmering health that was only exceeded by the laughter with which its people went about their days.

During that month, Ianna waited for the king’s reply, sensing that it would never come. He would hope that they had disappeared, or better yet, been killed; that he would know they were in Genor was a slim hope. Eventually she abandoned the hope of an answer, for she knew in her heart that there could be no peace with this king, and that even should he know of their whereabouts, she doubted he would alert them to it.

When Daeun had healed Genor—largely due to the help of the J’engar he’d brought along with him, another fact the populace had not forgotten—he took to making it better, calling for the planting of trees and flowers and vines and anything else he could think of. He purified the wells, and dug new ones about the city, so that there would be enough for everyone, and ordered the walls to be reinforced. He reinstated the lost halves of the guard and the army, and put a permanent guard at the base of the mountain, with stone houses built for them to sleep in. A stone wall was erected between these houses, tall enough and strong enough to delay any army.

Ianna played a large role in helping them to build their defenses, both in the planning and the building; her magic made it go all the quicker, and the blocks which had been placed by her hand refused to move. Soon, many months later, Genor stood gleaming and bright in the sun, full to the brim with laughing people and flowers.

That was largely what happened, anyway.

Just as the last stone was being place on the wall surrounding the mountain, a brass trumpet sounded thrice, the alert that an enemy was on the horizon. The enemy, it was revealed, was a large collection of soldiers, before whom rode Mhaea, a triumphant smile on her face.

“Daeun,” Ianna said, meeting him halfway up the mountain, “it’s Mhaea.”

He did not pause, but continued urging Tsuunai forward, eyes on the men below. “I figured as much,” he replied, and for a moment, Ianna imagined him on a throne, and speaking the same words. “She would not be away this long if it weren’t for an exceptionally juicy reason.”

“Power,” Ianna agreed. “The king has given her new power to wield, and she has come to wield it.”

Daeun nodded. “My spies had alerted me to the decision, though it was not publicly made. She has taken to wearing a crown, though her title is forged.”

“Typical,” Ianna muttered, to which Daeun smiled.

“Easy, dinsatas,” Daeun murmured. “All is well.”

As they reached the base of the mountain his guards flowered up around him, Caelun right there with them, having anticipated his queen’s movements exactly. Together they made their way to the wall, dismounted, and climbed the steps. It was not a high wall, but high enough that no man could see over it, nor leap to catch the edge.

“Hail baby Lord Dae-dae,” Mhaea sneered, as soon as he peered over the wall. “Why don’t you come down and play, Daeun? I’ve got something important to tell you.”

“Then speak it, for my patience grows thin,” Daeun said, with as much dignity as he could muster while contemplating wringing the woman’s throat.

“The king has ordered you to yield your lands to him,” Mhaea said, giving an unpleasant laugh. “He says you are the traitor, the leader of the Resistance.”

“Some leader I’d be, holed up on my mountain,” Daeun replied, eyebrows hitching upward. This was not true, however, for he had messengers coming and going every day, carried over the wall by Taejon’s magic. Taejon had contrived a spell that would react only to a guard on the inside of the wall speaking a string of code words, and once activated, would carry those on the other side of the wall over—thus eliminating their need for a gate.

“But leader all the same,” Mhaea taunted. “Look how you treated your people. Stands to reason you’d be the same with your filthy traitors and your bastards from the sand.”

“Ah, the answer,” Ianna murmured. “He knows we’re here.”

Daeun closed his hand tightly around Ianna’s. “If you think such foolish words will get me to climb over my wall, think again,” Daeun said sharply. “Your voice will not carry to the castle.”

Mhaea’s frustration was apparent. “If you don’t surrender, the king will send his army!” she shouted up at him. “Don’t be a fool, husband!”

“Husband!” Ianna raged, eyes a brilliant gold. “In what world are you a wife, whore?”

“I am no whore!” Mhaea said tightly.

“No? Then what do you call a woman who passes herself between men?” Ianna shouted back. “You are a whore, and no husband to him!”

“By law—” Mhaea began.

“By law, the marriage must be consummated,” Daeun said quietly, though his voice carried easily. “Until then, you are no wife of mine. Try again, Mhaea.”

Mhaea seethed with anger. “Fine—let his armies come! I don’t care!” She wheeled her horse round, and in a fit of rage kicked it to sharply; it jerked, surprised, and sped away, leaving her men in the dust. Wearily they followed, and one or two saluted up the wall, though they had hung back, so that their comrades did not see.

“Why send Mhaea?” Daeun murmured, rubbing at his eyes. “Why not just come, and demand immediate surrender?”

“A distraction,” Ianna suggested, as Fenn joined them.

“If you’re talking about Mhaea, you’re right,” Fenn replied, looking at Ianna without any of the former disgust. “Taejon caught them trying to persuade the guards to open up with magic and stopped them just in time.”

“Oiden,” Daeun said, turning back to look at the disappearing ranks. “He’s too arrogant to pose as a soldier.”

“Then his power is great,” Ianna said, as if it cost her much to say this, “for I cannot sense him. If he is too weak to escape notice, he could not perform such magicks here. If he is not one, he is the other.”

“Damn,” Daeun said with feeling.

“In any case, they know now the walls cannot be breached without great difficulty,” Fenn broke in. “The army will arrive soon, within a week. We must prepare.”

“Then prepare,” Daeun replied, as if this should be obvious. Fenn bowed hastily and set off at a jog, already barking orders. As Daeun and Ianna walked slowly back down the stairs, Ianna said quietly, “I do not like this.”

“What’s there to like?” Daeun asked blankly.

“First your cousins fail to appear in the mountains, and now this,” Ianna said, keeping her voice hushed. “Your king would not be so bold unless he had a good reason to be.”

“What I wish to know is how he discovered me,” Daeun whispered, taking Tsuunai’s reins and proceeding up the mountain road at a walk. Tsuunai shook his head, for he did not like being led around like some sort of common-bred mule, but Daeun did not release him. “Even my most well-placed spies are baffled.”

“Oiden.” Ianna looked back at Caelun, who was following at a comfortable distance, leaving them their space. “He must have discovered it before you reached Genor.”

“I can think of no other way,” Daeun agreed. He paused, looking up at his city, and said quietly, “We must hide the children.”

“And the women?” Ianna asked, looking up with him.

“Let those who wish to fight, fight,” Daeun replied. “The rest go with the children.”

“Where will you take them?” Ianna spread an arm wide, eyes worried. “There is no place near enough, not if you wish to hide them all.”

“You underestimate Genor, dinsatas,” Daeun chided her softly. He nodded at the mountain itself. “The interior of this mountain is riddled with caves and tunnels. They all lead to that mountain range there—even if the king does discover the caves, by the time they find the way, weeks will have gone by, and the children would be far, far away.”

“Your allays in the mountains,” Ianna said suddenly. “Who are they?”

“The mountains are home to those who refused to become part of the struggle between J’engar and Talon. They are mostly human—but some of them are … different. Animal-like. There are a few who really are animals.” Daeun hesitated for a moment, then said briefly, “There is a tale, about the people of the mountains.”

“And?”

Daeun ignored her, and kept walking. Ianna knew better by now than to push it; these last few months had taught her many things. Among them was that there was little difference between J’engar and Talon, and just like there were J’engar unworthy of life, so were there Talon. She had come to love these people, perched atop their lonely mountain, and much of that love was simply an extension of the love she had formed for Daeun himself.

When she spoke to Aedaan, she said nothing of this attachment, nor of what it was costing her to admit that there was Talons worth the same, if not more, as a J’engar life.

Though she had been determined to leave, if only for a short while, to see her own people, that resolve had faded into nothing. It had been banished not because of Daeun nor because of the people, but because of the orphans. They called her Mistress J’engar, and more than a few followed her around, eager to do her bidding. When she had revealed that she, too, was an orphan, just like Lord Genor, they had adopted her as the symbol of their plight.

One orphan in particular made it hard to leave—Anae. A brown, boyish little thing, with round eyes and a pixie face, Anae was everything Ianna herself had been: inquisitive to a fault, constantly playing tricks on everyone within reach, laughing day in and day out. Ianna was so taken with Anae that oftentimes Anae accompanied her into the castle, playing games with her in the gardens and eating dinner at the royal table.

“Are you sure they will be safe, in the mountains?” Ianna asked, thinking of Anae’s smiling face, and Daeun nodded.

“Very safe,” he assured her, and when he looked into her face, his frown faded a little. “Anae will be fine, dinsatas.”

Ianna found, to her horror, that she was blushing, and scowled defensively. “I know—”

“If you like,” Daeun said carefully, “you could go with her.”

Ianna flinched as if she’d been stuck. “Sulk off into the night, mild and meek?” Ianna exploded, making her horse start. “Do not insult me!”

Daeun sighed heavily, and resumed walking, shoulders hunched ever so slightly. “You know I did not mean anything by it. I only meant—if it worries you—it would be an assurance of her safety, at least.”

“Whose safety?” Above them, peering over the edge of the same road curved back on itself, hung Anae, big blue-grey eyes blinking down at them. “Are you talking about Tae?”

“No one,” Ianna said, more harshly than she had intended, and Anae stuck out her tongue at her.

“’Course it was someone, mistress,” Anae retorted. “If it wasn’t Tae, then who?”

“It is none of your business,” Ianna snapped, which was the wrong thing to say, for Anae sucked in her breath angrily and said nastily, “I’ll fling myself off the mountain if you don’t tell me!”

“You won’t, not if you value your hide,” Ianna said angrily, cheeks flushed. “Do not argue with me, child!”

Anae’s eyes grew rounder, and Daeun swore when she suddenly launched herself into the air, arms spread as if hoping to fly. Instead of growing wings, she plummeted, and Ianna moved an instant later into the air herself, catching Anae easily, but not before she herself had fallen clear of the ledge—and with an angry gesture, she forced the air behind them, pushing them back up onto the ledge.

Anae smiled wickedly into Ianna’s furious face, eyes dancing. “You meant me, didn’t you, mistress.”

“Imp!” Ianna hissed, but the anger had gone out of her. “You could have died!”

“Only if you didn’t care,” Anae pointed out, and hopped down out of Ianna’s arms. She ran ahead, leaving Ianna standing stiffly in the road, frustration clear on her face.

“You don’t fool anybody, dinsatas,” Daeun said, laughing. “You wear your heart on your sleeve.”