The Freeblade

The Heacharids arrived at the gates of Castellandria a little more than a month into spring. This chapter will be far a comprehensive history of this brief war. This chronicle is about my paramours, as you well know, and I happened to find a torrid reunion in the midst of the carnage.

The later histories would link this with my campaign that became known as the Breaking of the Tides. A few histories correctly point to this as a central inspiration behind that war, and look at the Heacharid siege upon the great city of Castellandria as mere preamble. As the siege was happening, and stretching out over the course of a little over two years, it felt far more than preamble at the time.

For those looking for a history of this engagement, several sources exist. The Historiae Heachariae includes it in its thirteenth volume, though it unfairly lionizes the Heacharids, rather than depicting them as the rapacious locusts they were. I admit that I enjoy some of the breathless descriptions of me.

A far better history can be found in Micephoran's City of Walls, though he concentrates less on the minutiae of the battles themselves but on the struggles of the great city's people. He devotes a lengthy passage on my Tanyth, whom he refers to Angel of Castellandria, and describes her in the kind of flowery terms generally reserved for goddesses, so you can imagine that I am biased in its favor.

The best military history can be found in the journals of Ryphas Dell, a Kallisite who oversaw much of the city's strategy and had intimate knowledge of every sortie. I can be found in those journals as well, and though we never truly trusted one another, we held a mutual collegial respect. I regard his depiction of me as, while not especially flattering, entirely fair.

As the Heacharids began to mass beyond the eastern walls, I was enjoying a carefree day in my home. I sat out on the main courtyard of my house, overlooking the Castelpont, my son Faustan in my arms. Arkohnus, clever and adventurous as he was, had begun attempting to stand upright, supported by a chair. Across the flagstones, Shaluvia sparred with Threch. The warmaid was getting the best of my son, I suspect because she had chosen to fight with bare breasts. Quiyahui coiled in a sleepy lump, watching us with unblinking eyes.

My boys could not be more different than one another. Threch was the only half-orc among them, and the only one for many years. He was a bit taller than I, though age had not yet put bulk on his body. His skin was a handsome pale green, and he had only begun to cultivate scars. His hair, shaved into a mohawk, was a deep brown that was almost black. His tusks were small, and he had a narrower face than his mother, taking after me. He showed off his lean physique in a pair of linen breeches and fought with a wooden sword and axe.

Arkohnus's small face was locked in concentration as he tried to rise. The boy was undeniably a darkling, though his demonic features were not quite as pronounced as his mother's. His horns were still small then, his skin a light blue and striped darker. His eyes were a bright emerald green, the whites a glowing yellow. I saw my face in his, though, and whenever I looked upon him, I felt a great blooming of love.

Faustan was still in that unformed state of very small children. His eyes were a bright blue and he had a small halo of strawberry blond hair. Most striking, though, was the night eft that was never far from him. I should not have been surprised that the child of two wizards would be a potential wizard himself. I thought that between the two of us, Lysethe and I could train him well.

Belazei was out. She had made friends with a group of girls from Darktown who for obvious reasons were untroubled by my daughter's inhuman nature. Though I missed having her home, I was pleased that she had friends.

"Good," Shaluvia said, parrying Threch's attacks with ease. The two of them shone with the wholesome sweat of hard work. "Don't fall into a pattern. As soon as you do that, your enemy will cut your throat."

"Go again," he said, and his eyes fell once again to Shaluvia's chest. She took that chance to step inside his guard. I lost track of them as a din rose in my ears. Shouting came from the street above and behind us. I stood, cradling Faustan, and went to the balcony. Below was the bay leading out into the Azure Ocean

Castellandria's warships, a fleet designed to keep trade flowing, was heading for the Turquoise side of the Castelpont, and others still docked were alive with activity, sailors scurrying over rigging like ants. Some alarm had been raised. The defenders of Castellandria were mobilizing. Behind me, Shaluvia and Threch had ceased their sparring.

"What's happening?" Shaluvia asked.

"I plan to find out," I said. I handed Faustan to Threch and went inside. His brother accepted the baby without protest. Quiyahui followed me from the courtyard. I found Sarakiel and Lysethe in our bedchamber, deep in their loveplay. Lysethe was bound to the bed, and Sarakiel was in the midst of her sweet torture. She could keep Lysethe on the precipice of relief for hours.

They both looked to me, smoky eyes filled with confusion. "Forgive my interruption," I said. "Something is happening out in the city, and I need to leave to find out what."

"Something? What kind of something?"

I held up a hand. "Keep enjoying yourselves. I'll find out everything I can and be back presently."

"Where are our sons?" Sarakiel said.

"On the balcony with Threch and Shaluvia. They'll be well looked after until the two of you are finished." I pulled Ur-Anu from its rack and left, closing the door behind me. I hoped that taking my weapon wouldn't worry them too much.

I made my way to the north wing of the house. We had expanded several times by then, and the property had become a bit of a maze. We kept our stables at the northernmost point of the house. I went to my qobad's stall and saddled her. She squawked, pawing the floor of her stall. I believe she sensed the impending violence in the air.

"Bel, the city is under attack." I turned to find my wife Tanyth standing at the entry to the stables. She was clad in one of her iridescent white gowns. Her face was thoughtful, without an ounce of fear, despite her disturbing words.

"How could you possibly know that? I was going out to find what was happening."

"I am Kharsoomian. I know what the beginning of a siege feels like."

"I'm going to the Basilica then," I said. "Learn what they know."

"No," she said. "Take yourself directly to the walls. You will learn more there and when the defenders see you join them, they will love you for it."

Her council was wise as always. "And you will--"

"Don't worry about me. Go."

I nodded to her, and my eyes told her how much I loved her. I swung myself into the saddle and my Kharsoomian riding bird bolted from the stable. The streets were in a state of confusion. Half of the people were panicked, running two and fro. The other half were calmly going about their business. It was as though the city could not quite decide what to do.

I rode hard through the streets of my adopted city. Everywhere was the same, heavy with an eerie feeling that while things might be fine now, soon they would be irrevocably different. The closer I got to the eastern walls, the more oppressive the foreboding. The walls were covered with guards, jittery as they stared out over the Silver Road leading into the interior of Aucor. Wide staircases went to the ramparts. There were no defenses on this side of the walls, as if attackers ever made it this far, the city would be lost. No guards stopped me. None even noticed me as I joined them.

The Heacharid army touched the horizon. The flaming rose banner flapped across the sky from a thousand different poles. They advanced up the Silver Road to our gates. They sent no delegation ahead to demand surrender without bloodshed. The Heacharids always attacked first, throwing the lives away of the vanguard to show that they could. Every defender they cost us was well worth a hundred of them. If they managed to break us with this shock attack, so much the better. I remembered these tactics of fear during the Turquoise Conquest. They had not worked against amazons fighting for their very civilization, but I did not have the same respect for Castellandrian morale.

If we fell, then the Heacharids could not be stopped. Castellandria was the gateway into Chassudor, and there was nothing in my homeland that could stop them. The Heacharids would stretch over two continents, and it would only be a matter of time before they crossed the Lapis for a third and fourth.

The closest guards muttered superstitiously. They were inches from breaking, the endless Heacharid hordes a shard of terror that could not be resisted. The nearest noticed me standing beside them, leaning upon Ur-Anu, my feathered serpent overhead like a war banner of my own.

"Master Wizard," he asked. "What do we do?"

"We visit a plague of ruin on the Heacharids, so that evermore when they hear the name of our city they pray to their god for deliverance," I said.

The closest of the guards stood a little straighter, gripping their spears more easily.

Diotenah's whispers threaded through my mind. The ring wanted what I was about to unleash. I had not felt this sensation since the Turquoise Conquest, and I would come to know it well once again.

I murmured an incantation, opening my hand. A tiny sparrow sat there, its feathers blue and white. When it moved, lightning crackled over its wings. I whispered a message to my brides, and the bird took flight, winging its way to Azureview.

I looked out over the concentric rings of the Hallian Walls. Collapsible bridges connected one to the other, separating each ring of defense, and turning the chamber between one wall and the next into a second killing ground. In Castellandria, invasions were reckoned in which layer of the wall the attacking army managed. The weak point, as with any city, were the main gates themselves, and the great city had but two, one on the Chassudor side, the other on the Aucor. This latter was the Heacharid destination.

Part of me wished that I didn't crave the feeling flooding my body. As I said, that damnable war made a killer of me, and I would never find a group I more relished visiting death upon than the plague of Heacharium.

"Men of Castellandria!" My words echoed down the walls, carried on wings of thunder. "Today Belromanazar the wizard stands with you! The man the Heacharids know as the Dreadstorm! And today, I am going to teach them the folly of attacking our city!"

My incantation spilled from my lips. Diotenah's ring exulted in the rush of power through my body, winding its own poison serpent about it. The ring, if it had been slumbering, had awakened. The rind of her soul purred its promises, its own power swirling over mine.

Thunder snarled across the sky as slate-gray clouds swallowed the sunlight. I had not truly embraced my power like this since I took it back and the feeling was sublime. I felt myself, once again, buried in the goddess Errishti, sharing indescribable pleasure that exploded across every sense, wrapped in the feathered coils of my familiar.

Lightning spidered over the swollen clouds. Rain began to fall. I ignored it, my incantations calling to the lightning. I felt it in my limbs, a delectable shiver that ignited my body. My heart thundered with the storm. I raised Ur-Anu to the sky. A bolt crackled down, catching the obsidian tip, haloing my body in sky fire. The storm was part of me.

A battle horn sounded from the Heacharid ranks. Their men went from a march to a jog, picking up speed as they approached. The guards let fly with the first volley of arrows. The land leading to the city walls narrowed as it came to the Castelpont, concentrating the attackers into a mass that could scarcely be missed. Hundreds died before they reached the walls, some feathered with arrows, others merely fallen and trampled, but that was nothing to the Heacharids.

I pulled lightning from the heavens and hurled it through the Heacharid ranks. Where one fell, he clambered to his feet once more, lightning playing over his ruined body. It had been many years since I had seen my stormwights, and now they once again rose from Heacharid corpses to kill their fellows.

I could not kill enough. One never could with the Heacharids, and I had learned that lesson well in the Turquoise Conquest. It was not about mere death. It was sowing terror in the ranks of the attackers, forced to fight their suddenly undead comrades. I believe I gave the men on the walls hope, as I put the storm on their side, my fell incantations like the beat of a bard's war drum.

The Heacharids, with their siege ladders, swarmed over the first walls. The defenders fell back, disabling the bridges to the second layer. By that time, more defenders had joined the walls. Not merely guards, but members of the regular army, Kallisites, and even citizens. A shaft of sunlight freed itself from the clouds, and like the finger of a vengeful god, it ran through the attackers, turning them into screaming embers. I knew then that Lysethe was among the defenders now.

We battled on through the night. When the first rays of the morning sun reached from the east, it was in the faces of the fleeing Heacharid vanguard. We cheered as they withdrew beyond the range of our defenses. Watching them erect tents, though, took some of the joy out of our victory. They were ready for a long siege. But then, this was Castellandria. So were we.

I collapsed against the wall, sliding down to rest on the flagstones. Hunger, thirst, and exhaustion gnawed at my bones but I could not decide which one to sate. I wasn't even certain I could move.

"Bel, are you well?" Ulrika knelt next to me. I had not detected her approach, and I wondered how long she had been on the walls next to me.

I tried to speak and merely nodded instead.

"Stay there. You're spent." She lifted her head and called for water. Moments later a boy fed me a dipper from a bucket. After two, I found the strength to stand.

"Get home," Ulrika said. "We need you rested for when they come back."

I could not find my qobad, and learned later she had made her own way home when the violence started. Clever bird. Clever, cowardly bird. I staggered my way to my bedchamber and before I could explain to Zhahllaia what had happened, I fell into a dreamless sleep.

As the siege entered its first months, the Heacharids blocked the Silver Road entirely, and had flooded the Castelpont from the Turquoise side. They never managed more than a small landing on Chassudor, but it was enough to keep caravans from resupplying us. The Azure side of the Castelpont was blockaded from time to time but never consistently. That was how we managed to take supplies into the city.

Those first months were before shortage had set in, but we could all see the lean times coming. We rationed in preparation, but it would not be enough.

The Order of Owls immediately offered our services, and whatever else the Doge was, he was no fool. The Dreadstorm returned to war against the Heacharids.

Each of us contributed in our way. Zhahllaia and Sarakiel kept our household functioning. Belazei, over my objections, scouted the Castelpont from the water to give regular updates on the disposition of the Heacharid fleet. Threch joined me on the walls, and soon enough was following elderly Clodomyr around like a puppy. The wizened adventurer took my son under his wing, and taught him numerous lessons that would serve him well.

Tanyth began the task that would make her famous in the great city. Along with Shaluvia, and sometimes Ujaala and her handmaids, she organized relief. She collected supplies, dealt with smugglers for more, collected from citizenry, and distributed them out of Phrantolos Plaza. Soon, it would be better known by its nickname, Mercy Square. I do not know if the name would have stuck if not for the statue of Tanyth erected there. She fought to keep everyone fed, and the city loved her for it. In these early days, her fame was only just beginning to spread, but by the end of the war, she would be known throughout every corner of the great city.

Ujaala warmed my bed most nights, as she was the only one with any energy for loveplay. She served ably. Thanks to the shortage of night tea, we turned to our old road ways. She was just as skilled at the practice of Arthan style as she was at the knight's kiss, and this helped me forget myself after battle.

I spent those months exhausted. I was given day shifts, but I was often called in the middle of the night. The Heacharids attacked at all hours, attempting to keep us off balance. One of these nights I was sent to the western walls. That was the first day they landed on the Chassudorian shore, and we knew the dire stakes of letting the Heacharids get comfortable on the other side of us.

I spent a night and half the day whipping them with storm and butchering them with lightning. The Castellan sent out sorties, herding the Heacharids into the killing ground of the storm. They broke and ran around noon, a fact we did not know until I let go of the storm and the clouds began to dissolve, freeing the bright beams of the sun.

A ragged cheer rose up from the defenders as the Heacharids fled back to their ships. My shoulders sagged. I did not even want a tumble with my loves. I wanted only sleep.

"I thought it couldn't be. Then I saw those abominations hacking up the Heacharids." The voice spoke directly to my memory. I turned and saw a face that I assumed until that moment I would never see again.

I knew her strange combination of features was due to her ancestry, one parent half-elf, the other half-orc. Her skin had a slight grayish cast, her ears came to delicate points, and her canine teeth came to points. Her auburn hair was streaked with gold, one temple shaved to show new tattoos along her scalp. Her magenta eyes were hard, but affection leavened her gaze.

"Talynore?" I managed. "Talynore Tazo?"

"And here I thought you might have forgotten me," she said.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be on the other side of the lines?"

"I'm a freeblade, Belromanazar." She smirked. "And I was in the city when the Heacharids invaded. I'll not turn down easy coin for a siege job. What are you doing here?"

"I live here. On the other side of the Castelpont."

"Bad luck. The Heacharids won't leave you be."

"I had a similar thought." On impulse, I said, "Come. You must be hungry."

"Don't get any ideas. This isn't an island and I'm far too tired for a buggering."

I laughed. "I'm too tired to give you one."

The ferries crossing the Castelpont were restricted for guards, but the two of us qualified. Along the way, she asked me about Quiyahui, and I gave her a shortened version. Such a story was not for a walk. It would require at least a little wine.

Azureview was in a state of chaos. We had expanded several times, but the work linking the properties wasn't done. The place was a labyrinth, and that was compounded by supplies Tanyth was storing, as well as a section she had turned into a field hospital. Zhahllaia served as her wazira in this, the djinn always by the Kharsoomian's side. I was happy to see how close they had become. It was left to Sarakiel to look after Arkohnus and Faustan, cradling one while the other played. I brought Talynore out onto the courtyard where she could look out over the Castelpont. I thought Quiyahui might play on the wind, but she coiled up and rested.

"This is your home?" she asked. "Done well for yourself."

"Spoils of adventuring," I said.

I fetched a loaf of bread, some cheese, dried figs, and a pitcher of wine. "I hope this is adequate."

"Oh, it's more than enough. After last night, I'd eat sawdust."

We started to eat, and a little strength came back to me, but I was exhausted. On the water below, we watched the patrolling ships in the Azure.

"I heard we had a wizard on our side, but imagine my surprise when I find out it's the Dreadstorm," she said.

"I had not been called that in years."

"Strange how quickly these things can come back." She chuckled. "Imagine the Heacharids when they realized that the necromancer who terrified them in Axichis is here now."

"After the war, what did they think happened to me?"

"Most thought you died in the first siege of Kleogara."

"What did you think?"

"Oh, I'd left by then."

"You left?"

"After our little dalliance, I took the money they owed and struck out. I was done with that war, and there were many more that could use me."

"Guilty for fighting amazons?"

She grunted. "No glory in that. Turns out I like glory and coin. Now that is a truly harrowing realization to make about one's self."

I wondered how much influence I might have had, but I also knew she would deny it. Warmth spread over me, and I found myself looking upon her with the affection I'd felt while we were on that island together.

Her magenta eyes met mine. "I know that look too," she said sternly, and I had to laugh.

"I'm sorry. Memories."

"Tell me then, what happened to you? Where did you go?"

I told her the tale of my exile. I did not go into every corner of the story, but enough to help her understand the long road I had traveled after the war. As I approached my return to Castellandria, Tanyth and Zhahllaia came out onto the courtyard, Tanyth in the midst of speaking to the djinn.

"... collect the crates from the mongers while they're..." Tanyth trailed off. She then switched from the Abbih she used with Zhahllaia to her lovely accented Eomet. "Bel! I did not know we had a guest. I am Tanyth, this is Zhahllaia."

"My wives," I said, rising to kiss first the Kharsoomian and then to brush the hand of the djinn. "This is Talynore Tazo."

"My pleasure," Talynore said, standing and giving a short bow to the two of them. Her gaze wandered over both, first Tanyth, clad in her diaphanous gown, her shapely body a lissome silhouette. Then Zhahllaia, almost entirely nude save for a few golden chains.

"Welcome to Azureview," Zhahllaia said, amusement sparking in her gold-flecked eyes as they met mine.

"He was just telling me about you." Talynore said to Tanyth as she resumed her seat.

"How we met," I explained.

"You love telling that story almost much as I do," she said. She looked to Talynore. "Do you have a place to stay? We can find room somewhere."

"I have a space in an inn, but thank you. Brave defenders of the city don't have to pay."

"If that changes," Tanyth said.

"I'll be sure to let you know."

Talynore left shortly afterwards for that inn, sleep no longer possible to stave off. My limbs were heavy too, and I hauled myself to the bedchamber. I undressed and climbed into bed, hoping to get some sleep before being called to the wall.

As I was drifting off, Tanyth came in. "How do you know her?"

"The last war."

"She is a former paramour."

"We had a long week once, yes."

"Oh," Tanyth said, biting her lip. She kissed my forehead. "Sleep well."

The Heacharids did not attack every day. They trusted their blockade to do some of the work for them, which was far from an unreasonable response. Every week that passed our resources grew thinner. Stores were exhausted, and the Heacharids fought to keep smugglers from our shores.

I spent some such days with the Owls. We were steadily drinking our way through the Order's wine cellar as the war went on. Skeevan, though, was incredible. He always seemed to have some refreshment on hand no matter how dire the situation.

"The timing was something," Ulrika said. "Another week and we would have been gone for the Caster Mountains."

"True," I said. "Glad we weren't. I would not have forgiven myself, leaving my brides without me."

"I would look in on them," Mallathar vowed, raising his goblet to me.

"Thank you," I said wryly.

"Varanaya's good luck to be gone when the Heacharids come," Mallathar mused into his wine. "Shame. She's almost succumbed to my charms, and in the desperation, I believe I could have finished her."

"Truly, the words of a hero," Ulrika said.

As silly as Mallathar was, I'd gained some respect for him. He was valuable for morale, his songs keeping the defenders fighting in a way that no one else could. He was a skilled fencer as well, and I had watched him bravely battle armed Heacharid shock troops on the ramparts.

"When the siege breaks, we can head for Esmia," Ulrika said.

"We need to break them then," I said. "Believe me when I say that it is far easier said than done."

Skeevan ushered in Iago. The little wizard was exhausted, collapsing into his favorite chair. His familiar, the little briarchild, crawled beneath the chair and was snoring before long. Skeevan saw that the halfling swiftly had a goblet of wine.

"Where were you?" Mallathar asked.

"Sortie, outside the eastern walls." He said, packing his pipe with the fragrant tobacco he favored. "Where do they get all these Heacharids?"

"Aucor," I said helpfully.

Iago nodded mirthlessly. "Ask a stupid question."

Skeevan arrived with a tray toasted cheese on bread. While the variety of the refreshments he served had already decreased, that one would never fail to cheer me.

"These Heacharids are a menace," Mallathar said. "Someone should do something."

"Indeed they should," I said.

Ulrika looked at me. "Oh no. I never trust a wizard with that expression."

"Let him think," said the bard. "Was he like this when he adventured with us?"

"I knew you did not remember," I said, laughing, my black mood momentarily gone.

"I was drinking a great deal then," Mallathar said, gulping his wine. "You can hardly blame me."

"Would it surprise you to know you have a son in that town?"

"Not especially. The young mother, was she beautiful?"

"She was indeed."

Mallathar sighed. "It will be good to be on the road again."

"Framzet was waiting for us," Ulrika said, naming her friend who was to serve as our guide and the fifth member of our party. "I suppose he's heard of the invasion by now."

"Tell me, lad," Iago said, looking to me. "You've fought these Heacharid bastards more than the rest of us. How do you break them?"

"I didn't break them," I pointed out.

"You would be a terrible bard," Mallathar said mildly.

"We threw them back a few times. There were victories along the way. I don't think you can kill enough of their troops. They don't seem to care about that at all. However, I believe there are pressures we don't see."

"What pressures?" Iago asked, watching me keenly.

"I don't know much of their government, but I know the church of Xomera exists in an alliance of sorts with noble houses. The conquest of the amazons was costly enough that it provoked some kind of civil war, which is why their march stopped."

"And they attack here," Ulrika said. "Foolish, they should have just ferried their armies to the southern coast of Chassudor."

I shook my head. "Those petty kingdoms, free cities, they couldn't stand alone, but they would unite against that. And there is the matter of the old barrows, the creatures that can be awakened on those shores. No, if they want Chassudor, they need the Castelpont."

"You're distracting him," scolded Iago. "Come, lad. You were about to make a point."

"I think that the answer lies in their nobles."

"Assassination!" beamed the halfling.

"I've heard there's a guild," said Ulrika.

"There is," Mallathar said. "They're not friendly. They're also not nearly as powerful as the streets would have you believe. A collection of cutthroats who wouldn't last a second in a fight against anyone in this room."

"If you have the opportunity to kill one of their leaders, take it," I said. "But there is more. Xomera is a goddess of purity. They need the bodies of their fallen for funerary rites, or the dead one doesn't go to his eternal reward."

"You're talking about blaspheming corpses," Ulrika said with disgust.

"That is exactly what I am talking about. There's a reason they fear me."

"The Dreadstorm," teased Ulrika.

"I should write a song," mused Mallathar. "A battle hymn for you. If you are what they fear, I should set terror to music."

Our rambling discussion continued, and true to his word, Mallathar penned a song and was singing it on the ramparts within the week. It became a popular tune amongst the defenders, lasting far longer than this little siege. A century after, I heard it sung from a mother to a child, the edges of the lyrics sanded off. She would never know what it was, nor that its subject heard.

Barely a month later, the eastern gate almost fell. The Heacharids attacked in their numberless hordes, swamping the defenders on the wall, while they maneuvered a great battering ram into position. The thing was massive, perhaps the equal of our famed gate. The ram had been forged from the southern xilquinal tree in the elvish kingdom the Heacharids had enslaved, and then shod in iron from the Zuunkhor Mountains, and pulled by the mammoths of the Jaggurzar Tundra. The ram was suspended in a great cradle of wood and iron, and only made it over the muddy terrain thanks to a forest's worth of logs laid out beneath its wheels. I was momentarily in awe of the feat of engineering, then set to work killing those who operated it.

I was on the wall with Iago on that day. The halfling pulled tendrils of vines from the earth, tangling Heacharids in their thorns while I killed them from on high with bolts of lightning. Partway through the battle I saw Talynore with a group of brightly-clad freeblades on the second wall, fighting a brutal hand-to-hand struggle with Heacharid shock troops.

The ram hammered at our gates and nearly splintered them when we managed to light the thing ablaze. Even as it crumbled in a pyre, the Heacharids took the chance to swarm over the walls in even greater numbers.

That was a bad day of fighting. Even I went hand-to-hand with the invaders, Ur-Anu tasting Heacharid blood for the first time. There was a moment, buffeted by the winds of battle when I was no longer on the Hallian Walls. I stood on the pitching deack of Naeri's Revenge. My breath was thick in my lungs and I lost the grip on my spell. The storm that should have been relentlessly pounding the lines began to fail.

I staggered, catching myself on the ramparts. I could not be here. The screams of my hetairoi rang in my ears, crying out for me to slay them, that they could continue their vow unto death. Nightmare memory seized me, throttling the life from my body.

I was hauled to my feet and a sharp pain rocketed over my cheek. Talynore's face was in mine. A drop of blood had fallen over the bridge of her nose. "Bel! Come back! Bel!"

"I am here," I managed, my face smarting.

"Get the storm going. I'll keep the bastards off you."

"How did you get here so quickly?"

"Trade secret. Stay with us."

I nodded and returned to my incantations, once again in the present. The battle on the waves was long ago and far away. It could not hurt me, but this one could.

I do not know what action gave us victory that day, but we were victorious. At grievous cost, yes, but we threw the Heacharids back. New ranks of stormwights manned the walls, ready to battle the next wave of Heacharids. I will not take sole credit for Castellandria remaining a free city, but I believe if I were not there, the siege would have gone differently.

I could not enjoy the victory, even this fleeting one. I could still feel the stormy sea beneath my feet, smell the salt of the water and the smoke of burning ships, and hear the distant call of amazon sailors.

I staggered from the wall, blazing torches throwing sweaty shadows into the exhausted night. A nearby building was little more than timber and ash from when the Heacharids had managed to set it aflame. My feet hit the street, and still I felt the earth moving like waves. Talynore was next to me, smelling of blood and sweat.

"Bel?" she said softly, touching me.

I turned, and roughly pushed her to the alcove beneath the wall, crushing my lips against hers. She was stiff only for a moment, and then her tongue invaded my mouth, her arms about me. I freed myself from my robes, and she spread her legs, lifting her kilt. I caught the scent of her sex, that kiss of lavender and peat I had learned so well during our time on the island together. I gripped her hips, driving myself inside.

She moaned, holding my head, arms wrapped about me. I was holding her up against the wall, her powerful body against me. She was warmer than I imagined and so much wetter. I momentarily realized this was the first time I had taken her this way, and it inflamed me. I wanted the comfort of her embrace, the knowledge that I was not alone.

My mouth found her neck, my lips and teeth against her pounding pulse. She was no less hungry, alternating kisses and bites as I slammed into her again and again. There was nothing delicate about this. I wouldn't even call this loveplay. This was frantic fucking, the kind of passion only two who have faced death can ever know.

We were beyond words instantly. She could not compel me to go harder, nor deeper. We were at our limits already, joined in a maelstrom of lust and fury. I caught her magenta gaze between our kisses, wanton and fierce. I drove myself deeply into her, and she took me happily.

She leveraged herself up, her sex gripping mine. Now the pleasure would not be held off. At some unspoken agreement, our mouths parted. Our eyes locked. She gave me the ghost of a nod. That was enough. The pleasure exploded in me, and she shut her eyes, uttering a single broken moan as I flooded her.

I slumped against her, and she held me, stroking my hair. "Feeling better?"

"I am. Thank you. Possibly forgive me," I murmured, helping her down.

She smoothed out her kilt. "I needed it as much as you. A tumble after a battle reminds you you're still alive. I will need some night tea. I have none, as usual."

"We have some."

"What will your wives say?"

"Did you not see how Tanyth looked at you?"

"Well, now that is information I can use."

We arrived at my home shortly after and I brewed her some night tea. Tanyth came into our kitchen as I handed the steaming mug to Talynore and was amused when she smelled the pungent brew. "I don't have to ask what the two of you were up to."

"A moment of passion, gone now," said Talynore.

"Now that's a disappointment," Tanyth said, leaving the kitchen.

"You see?" I asked.

Talynore chuckled. "I suppose this siege got more fun."

The Doge had taken to calling regular meetings for the city leaders at the Basilica. This included those one would expect, the guildmasters, the commanders of the guard, army, and Kallisites, his prisci, the prince regent, and the various adventurers and mercenary captains who were in the city at time.

It was inevitable I would find myself there, even if I still did not quite understand my importance to the siege. For those reading this chronicle, it likely obvious why I was summoned. Remember I was not yet an archmagus. I had not stepped beyond this realm and trod the planes of stars. I was still a wizard, my powers relatively freshly returned. I was still relatively young, still coming into my power.

Yet I was important. I was the Dreadstorm. The name struck fear into the Heacharids and was treated as a banner of hope for the defenders. I brought my banner to the wall, the white coatl on the field of blue that had flapped over my wedding to Crimson Tanyth. I began to see the white serpent upon the walls as well, painted as a ward against evil. The guards liked to see me with them, and looked upon my Quiyahui as a herald. Where she flew, cheers followed.

Yet in the Great Basilica, I felt the impostor. In the first such meetings, I stayed quiet. I let Durrack and Ulrika take the lead, for with Varanaya absent, the two of them were the ranking Owls. Soon, though, my contributions to the defense, my burgeoning force of stormwights, could not be ignored, and I was thrown into the middle of Castellandrian politics.

I did not much like it. There is a section of City of Walls that ably discusses the web of rivalries that made up the ruling class at the time. I did not want to be drawn in, but I could not avoid it. One might think my alliance with Thraz Dervaiou, the head of the Stevedores' Guild, was some grand political stroke. Micephoran uses it to illustrate my keen mind. He is wrong. Thraz and I shared a sense of humor and I preferred his company to that of the others. I believe that, as a half-orc himself, the fact that I had a half-orc son put him at ease around me.

As the siege progressed, our dress was shabbier, our mien crueler. As much as politics was a constant undercurrent of the great city, in this siege, we were united. Tanyth accompanied me to some of these, and once Talynore as well.

"You know how much money I could make in this room?" she murmured to Tanyth and me.

"Money?" Tanyth asked innocently.

"Bounties," Talynore said. "Every single person in this room has a bounty on their head."

"Even me?"

"Most likely," she said. "One as lovely as you?"

"I would be so grateful if you would not slay me, mighty sellsword," Tanyth flirted.

Talynore was momentarily dumbstruck, then broke into a grin. "You are more dangerous than everyone here combined."

"You don't know our prices, do you?" I asked.

"No. I remember your price from the last war. It could only have gone up. If I took your head to the Heacharids, I could leave this life behind."

"I suppose it's fortunate you like this life."

"I suppose it is." Her gaze lingered on me, and then on Tanyth. Nothing more happened between us and Talynore that night, though I believe both Tanyth and I thought of the freeblade when we lay together later.

It was some months later after a group of us, on a sortie, had managed to capture a Heacharid caravan heavy with supplies. I conjured a thick fog and we rolled the wagons right through the eastern gate. I sent a message to Tanyth, so she could see to the distribution of the provisions, but we brave soldiers confiscated a barrel of wine for ourselves before my wife spirited the rest away.

A group of us, including myself, Talynore, Iago, our chaplain Minervina Hecht, and an old guard by the name of Florian Wahl, drank in the shadow of the main gate. Considering how exhausted we were, it didn't take long before we were all quite drunk. The wine was terrible, but there was a lot of it, and for us that was enough.

"Never seen a Heacharid run like that before," laughed Iago.

"They're scared of the Dreadstorm," Talynore teased.

"Oh, come on now," I protested.

"No," Minervina said. "This is important. We will not win this thing by force of arms and we cannot win it by numbers."

"Then what the hell are we doing here at all?" Iago asked. "I could be at home!"

"Morale. That's what will beat them."

"I fought in Axichis," I said. "I've never seen the Heacharids retreat once they've drawn blood."

"There's a world of difference between the great city and those islands. Due respect. Axichis was there for the taking, so long as you didn't mind how many men you lost. They didn't have many warriors at the outset. Here? We have a thousand years of no invader ever making it inside. We have walls in every direction and we have access to both sea and ocean."

"I see what Mother Hecht is saying," Florian said, toasting the priestess. I call her priestess, but she was the most eager cutthroat among us. I suppose she murdered with the love of her deity in her heart. "Your lightning might be something, but it's not your real weapon."

"Seems to be."

He shook his head. "It's the rain."

"What are you talking about?'

"We've been on the wall together for months now. I've watched you. Watched your spells. Watched what they do to the Heacharids. The lightning kills them, true enough, and you have another one of your abominations. But it's the rain that really hurts them. It saps their will to fight. Puts a chill in them and makes them easy prey for us. And even better." He pointed out behind the walls, where my rain had been falling steadily throughout the day. The mud was thick there and a few Heacharids had been trapped, trampled and feathered. "The mire kills, but it does worse to the ones who see their fellows die that way. One Heacharid drowning in the mud hurts them more than a hundred dead from spear and arrow."

I kept those words close, and after that day, I moved the storms out over the bulk of their forces rather than right at the wall where I could do the most damage with my lightning. I made the Heacharids miserable. I forced them to crouch in their tents and sleep in the mud. I made them fight soaked to the skin and chilled to the bone, and Florian was right. I watched them break even before they hit the walls, and they were easy prey for our men.

I took a sadistic glee in making the siege as unpleasant as I could for the Heacharids. No longer did I summon storms for battle. I kept the rain on them like a cloak of pain. This was another lesson I would take to the Deadwall, one I know the Heacharids wished I never learned.

I wondered how long I could hold them at bay thus. In Axichis, there was nothing that truly kept them from landing. They were willing to spend the lives it took for every beachhead. Here, I did not see that butcher's bill. I saw no way to call it due. Castellandria could not last forever. No place could. But it could last long enough.

That evening, after the barrel of wine I walked home drunk and tired, Talynore beside me. We had not lain together since that one night, but my lust for her was a constant buzz in my mind. She leaned close to me, her breath heavy with wine.

"You're going to have trouble getting back to your inn," I said.

"Who said I'm going there?" Talynore asked with a laugh.

I slid an arm about her waist. "Well then, I shall have to make you comfortable."

"Or uncomfortable in the right ways," she teased.

"We should make haste," I said, picking up the pace. Quiyahui swirled overhead, the wine in my body making her loops sloppy and erratic.

We entered Azureview through the stables. The qobads squawked and the gweyir pawed the ground as we passed. The scent of hay was heavy, along with the pungent smell of the birds, and the earthy aroma of the deer.

"Do you have something against horses?" Talynore said.

"Fine animals, I'm told." She laughed as I took her hand and pulled her swiftly into the house. This was a new wing, purchased just before the siege. Construction had ceased, and would not start again until the siege had lifted. It had but a single chamber worthy of the name, filled haphazardly with a couch and a few chairs. A small balcony looked out over the Azure. This was the lowest point in the house.

She attacked me as soon as we were through the door, undoing my robes. Our weapons clattered to the floor. I was as eager, pulling her armor from her. She was nude, her rippling muscles hypnotic beneath her taut skin. She climbed onto the couch, turning over and arching her back, gazing back at me.

I advanced, ready to take her when the door opened. Tanyth stood in the threshold. Quiyahui was behind, coiled and watching us with her blank blue eyes. Tanyth stepped in, shutting the door behind her.

"I thought I heard you come home," she said. She looked from me to Talynore, both of us bare and aroused. Talynore's scent slithered through the air, that lovely peat mixed with lavender. Tanyth's spicier aroma joined hers.

"Your husband was just about to fuck me," Talynore said.

"And suppose I say no?"

"Would you be so cruel?"

"Your Highness," Tanyth said. "I am properly addressed as Your Highness."

"Forgive me, Your Highness. How can I convince you to loan me your husband?"

Tanyth dropped her gown, revealing her crimson curves. My eyes went to the cleft between her legs, already shiny with arousal. She brushed my cheek. "You will wait, my love. Your friend must pay a noblewoman's tax."

Tanyth approached, running the tips of her fingers over the tattoos along Talynore's shaved temple. The freeblade looked at her with undisguised lust. Their lips met, tentatively at first, but Talynore took over, her tongue pushing into my wife's mouth.

Tanyth sat on the arm of the couch, spreading her legs. Talynore took her time. She would devour Tanyth, but she wanted to sample every inch of the lovely Kharsoomian. Her lips flickered over crimson flesh, from her graceful neck, to her pouting breasts, to her flat belly, to her shapely legs. Talynore worshiped Tanyth. She and I had wiled away the hours on that island in such ways. My bride enjoyed it as I had, gripping the arm of the couch, her eyes shut, her body writhing.

I moved up behind Talynore, stroking her haunches. Her orchid was shiny between her legs, inviting my attention. I reached for her sex, caressing her wet folds, covering my finger in her nectar. Spurred by this attention, her head delved between Tanyth's quivering thighs. My bride cried out, thrusting into Talynore's questing tongue.

I caressed Talynore, dropping to my knees behind her. That too was a memory. The taste of her was complex, the feeling of fertile soil alive with lavender. I ran the tip of my tongue over her slit, parting her gently as the nectar flowed. My finger, slicked with her, teased the ring that had given us both so much pleasure on that island. She gave a guttural moan, muffled by Tanyth's sex, as my finger sank in.

She pushed back against me, demanding my tongue, my finger, deeper inside her. Over her back I watched Tanyth, her fingers tangled in Talynore's hair, rolling her hips, her chest covered in a sheen of perspiration. The three of us were united in this chain of sensation, unbroken and joyful.

I stood, taking Talynore's hips in my hand. I found her easily, and she moaned into Tanyth as I buried myself into her. The sellsword's body, all feline muscles and precise control, took over. She gyrated her hips, gripping in perfect time, milking me in a delicious swirl that brought me to where she had been in heartbeats.

I held back for as long as I could, wanting only to keep this up, wanting to watch Tanyth's pleasure as mine built to impossible heights. The three of us together felt right in a way I had not expected. I was filled not only with mere affection, but love.

In that realization, the pleasure boiled from me. Bolts of it rocketed through my body. I took her to the very hilt, filling her with my seed. Her cry was muffled, instantly replaced with frenzied licking and sucking. Tanyth broke then, shuddering against her.

It was long hours later, caressed by the breeze from the window, when finally Talynore spoke. "Every time we lay together, I feel wonderful," Talynore said.

"I should hope so," I said, toying with her hands. The three of us were entwined on the couch, our sweat-soaked limbs a puzzle I hoped to never solve.

"No, afterwards. I will not get sick for months at least. I feel young again."

"I know how you feel," Tanyth said.

"Laying with a wizard has benefits," I said. Though I did not understand the true extent of what my love could provide, many texts had alluded to it, and the evidence was in my face. Tanyth had not aged a day since we first lay together.

"I suppose that is another reason to allow you to ravage me," Talynore said. "Would you be good enough to brew night tea? After what you did to me, I suspect I will need it."

"We are not keeping to our island pact, are we?"

She kissed my hand, then found Tanyth. "No, we aren't."

"I will fetch it."

"Did you bring any?" Tanyth asked.

"Bel was making me some from your stores."

"We have no stores," Tanyth said. "I gave what we had to the bawdy houses. They need it more than we do. Morale being what it is."

Talynore cursed. "Well, I suppose we can hope your seed didn't take root."

"You will be fine," Tanyth assured her, kissing her softly. "It was once."

"It's going to be more than once," Talynore sighed.

Tanyth kissed her again. "Oh? You want my husband again?"

"Yes, Your Highness," she said in mock seriousness. "If it pleases you."

Another kiss, softly nibbling her lips. "Perhaps if you beg me, I will let you use him again."

Talynore did not fall pregnant from that night. It was not until a little over a year into the war that she did. It was not intentional, but we were not careful. With our habits, it had become inevitable. Tanyth was only slightly annoyed, as she remained stubbornly childless. Sarakiel was pleased with the prospect, and Zhahllaia amused by the situation.

All of us wanted what none of us would speak. We wanted Talynore to join the household. She was a skilled and generous lover, at least as interested in my brides as she was in me. She had a bravery that the others respected, and I believe they appreciated her martial beauty. We had fallen in love with her, and foolishly, we thought that a child might spur her to make the choice to stay with us.

The night Talynore told me she was with child, I took her hand. "Are you frightened? There are skilled midwives in the city."

She snorted. "This isn't my first."

I was surprised, but not very. "Where are the others?"

"With their fathers." She searched my face, hunting for rebuke. "I am not much of a mother."

"The child will always have a place here. As will you."

"I am going to be far less use to the defenders when I get big. I was not made to sit in a house like this, hiding like a child."

"No," I said. "You are a warrior, fierce and beautiful."

She glared at me. "It is that look in your eyes that got me in this trouble to begin with."

I kissed her. "Forgive me." My hand slid over, up her skirt, to find her bare sex, already wet. She shivered as I parted her with my cold finger.

"I love that thing," she sighed, pushing her hips up. "The damage is already done. Fuck me hard."

One evening after my shift on the wall, I was on the courtyard, massaging the corded muscles of Talynore's shoulders. She had just begun to show, her belly growing with the life inside her. She still fought on the wall, and would continue for another month or two.

Zhahllaia stepped out onto the courtyard, a priest of Holios behind her, doing his best not to stare at her nakedness. "The Doge sent a messenger," she said. "Have care, the man is a reptile." She spoke in Abbih, her tone carrying a sense of respect and authority that her words did not. The tone was for the priest, the words for me.

"Lord Belromanazar," said the priest, giving me a short bow. "The Doge has need of you."

I kissed Talynore's shaven temple and rose. "I will join you in a moment."

Zhahllaia fell into step next to me. "I am glad I have never met the Doge. Every tale you and Tanyth tell, he sounds like the most unpleasant man ever whelped."

"He is not my favorite person," I said, taking Ur-Anu from the wall.

"Keep your wits about you," she said, brushing a kiss over my cheek.

"Those that I have," I said.

Quiyahui joined me at the door, and I emerged onto the street. The priest's eyes widened as they went from the great feathered serpent to the spear I bore. "Come this way, my lord."

We climbed into a carriage and he swiftly took us to the Great Basilica. I asked the priest what this was about, but he demurred. The Doge kept his secrets, I suppose.

I was ushered in to chambers I had never before seen. These were the Doge's personal suite, decorated with all the finery of the church. Wealth dripped from every eave. It was an attempt to show power in the form of riches. The Doge greeted me there, surrounded by his small council of his favorite prisci and the Lord Commander of the Kallisites. This was the true ruling cabal of the city.

"Belromanazar," he said by way of greeting, "or should I call you Dreadstorm?"

"Whichever pleases Your Holiness," I said diplomatically.

He handed me a parchment. "Given to us by the Heacharids under flag of truce at first light."

The paper held the seal of the burning rose, so it was genuine, and I noted to some amusement that the paper showed evidence of having been rained on and then dried. The words were in Eomet, a respectful summons to negotiate terms of peace. "They ask our surrender?"

"Most likely. That they ask means that there would be terms."

"You cannot mean to entertain them?" I blurted.

"You forget yourself, wizard," the Doge said calmly.

"Forgive me, Your Holiness."

He waved that away. "Your ferocity is at least in part what has given us this opportunity to speak. They no longer see us as prey, or as wayward vassals."

"They requested I be present." I had to read the words twice to be certain I didn't imagine them.

"For once I agree with them. You have the most experience in dealing with Heacharids, after all. I believe you would be a boon to our side."

Shame burned in me. "My experience is mostly in failure. We did not throw them from Axichis."

"This will not be a failure. They want you, and I see the advantage in sending you. You will be part of the bodyguard for Priscus Spyrlan, who will be leading the negotiations."

"As you wish, Your Holiness."

The Doge showed his wine-stained teeth. "It pleases me to hear you say that."

The summit took place four days later on a Heacharid galleon that had been squatting off the Turquoise side of the Castelpont since the first weeks of the war. We sailed one of our own frigates there under flag of truce.

As part of the bodyguard, I was allowed to take my own contingent. I was no fool when it came time for that. Lysethe, Threch, and Quiyahui formed a fearsome retinue. Lysethe wore the suit of armor Tanyth had commissioned for her. Plate, enameled in red, my sigil on the tabard, she would become famous for this. I never liked armor myself, but Lysethe had learned to fight in it. With a suit like this, she was a juggernaut. Threch wore a simple suit of mail given to him by the guards, refusing my wife's offer to commission him a better suit. I believe he wanted to be known as one of the defenders, not the wealthy scion of a wizard, and I respected this decision.

"Do you think they'll betray us?" Threch asked, his hands resting on the hilts of his weapons.

"No," Lysethe said. "For all of their faults, the Heacharids know honor."

"And we are aboard ships," I said. "I fought them at sea for two years. If they break the truce, it will be on my battleground."

Threch nodded. He was jittery, but not frightened. His time on the wall had made a warrior of him. I am not certain that was what Ghorza wanted for him when she had sent him to live with me, but that was what he became.

I turned to Lysethe. As a former fighting slave of the Heacharid Empire, I could only imagine the queasy feeling in her belly. "Will you be all right, love?"

"Yes, my lord." She broke into a nervous smile. "I keep thinking of Faustan."

"He is safe in Sarakiel's arms."

"Thank Xomera for her." The words were simple, but the love in her voice and her eyes was deep and complex. The bond that had been forged between the two of them in my absence was unbreakable, and I was grateful for it.

"This will be quick," I assured her. "And we will be back home soon."

"I want to be back on the walls," she said. "And then I want to be back home."

"In Sarakiel's arms." Color touched her cheeks.

"I miss her even now."

I touched Lysethe's arm. "I know exactly how you feel."

The rest of the armed contingent were Kallisites. With their masks, they were an uncanny sight, even with their armor glittering in the bright sun of the Castelpont. I could only hope the Heacharids would find them as unnerving as I did.

Our ship sailed to into the Turquoise Sea. The Heacharid fleet was arrayed before us, but only the galleon was close. We pulled close, dropped a sea anchor, and lowered boats over the side. Stout rowers took us over, and one by one we boarded the great wooden vessel. I wondered if they would recognize Lysethe as a former witchthrall. Her presence was an insult, but they had asked for me, and she was my bodyguard. Likely they would see nothing more than the skymander crouched on her shoulder.

A table had been set in the middle of the galleon's deck, the Heacharid delegation gathered about one side. I had seen one of these before, and it was not that dissimilar from ours. That was, I suppose some of the irony. They were ruled by the Church of Xomera and Castellandria was ruled by the Church of Holios. As close as faiths were to one another, they were opposed in matters of war. The ship was filled with armed men, and I knew that if violence should break out, the sailors would produce hidden knives and join in the fray. I catalogued each of them, ready to make stormwights of every one.

I turned my attention to the diplomatic contingent. My attention went from face to face, and I found one looking back at me. A face I knew. My heart jumped, ice creeping into my limbs. She was a woman, small with huge, deep blue eyes. Her pale olive skin had dulled somewhat since I had seen her, and lines had sunk into her skin here and there. Her black hair hung straight, jeweled combs at her temples. Her gown was fine, though far from ostentatious. I knew her because the last time I treated with the Heacharids in the not-so-distant land of the amazons, she had seduced me. When the talks broke up, she announced she was heavy with my child. Her name was Theophilia Bardane of House Tzimis, and I loathed her like few others. I saw now the Heacharid plan for me, anger growing inside my heart that they should think I could be so easily manipulated.

It was strange seeing her so many years later. I knew I had not really aged, though I had changed during my exile. She, though, had felt every one of those years. She had been barely a woman when we'd met, and now, she was in the latter part of her third decade, the years weighing heavily upon her. I wish she had been less beautiful, but it was her beauty that had ensnared me to begin with. I have always said that I am a fool for a beautiful woman.

I wondered where our child was. Were they here, on the ship? Back at the camp? I did not know what Heacharids did. Did they send them away to school? Apprenticeships? Perhaps it was my fatherhood that made me soft. I loved Belazei, Threch, Arkohnus, and Faustan so much. I wanted a glimpse of this other, even though they would be a stranger to me. I fought to keep my expression blank. My attention roved past her, and I hoped she would believe that I did not recognize her at all, but that was a foolish hope.

The lead diplomat greeted us, an expansive man whose face was florid but whose eyes were weary. "Welcome, Castellandrians. I am Petrus Bardas. I first wish to express the gratitude of the glorious Heacharid Empire for accepting our invitation to treat today. I would be pleased to speak to you about ceasing these hostilities and joining us."

His words were smoke. They all were. I don't believe any thought peace could be had. Heacharids wanted submission, and by this point, everyone knew. They could dress their words up, but they ultimately meant nothing. The Heacharids would offer no more than taking the city without sacking it, and the Castellandrians would accept no less than the Heacharids lifting their siege. The true value in the negotiations was that they happened at all. It showed that the Heacharids were beginning to pay more for the city than they wanted. During a break in the negotiations, the inevitable happened. I stood by the gunwale, watching Quiyahui dance in the sky when a soft voice spoke nearby.

"Hello, Dreadstorm." Theophilia stood a short distance away, her hands folded. I knew her to be a wolf beneath all that, but she played the role of a lamb so well. Even now, I could almost believe she feared me.

"Theophilia. I had not expected to see you here."

"When it became clear that the Dreadstorm was among the city's partisans, I insisted. I have more experience dealing with you than any other."

"That is probably true."

"The offer I once gave to you is still open. You can come to the Empire if you wish."

"As your husband?"

"If you still wish it. Or we will find a younger, comelier bride. Many noble families would be eager to welcome the Dreadstorm."

"Are you married?"

"After I bore our child, I was unsuited for such. I have found a place in the church and I continue to serve as envoy for the Empire."

I wondered how much of that was true. I knew from experience she lied like breathing, yet something about her made me think she told me the truth. Had she truly ruined herself, her prospects, to seduce me? Had she thought I would abandon Axichis, or had she merely not cared?

"Where is our child?"

"With Xomera," she said softly.

Fool that I was, I had the urge to comfort her. I bit it back, holding onto my anger. "I can't see how a child conceived in deceit would have had a happy life anyway."

"The purpose of life is service, not happiness. You haven't answered me." She touched my arm. "Come to the Empire. We will find a suitable wife, one young, lovely, and fertile. And if you wish it, I will be your mistress. Such things are done."

"Xomera would not approve."

"Xomera cares far more about the Empire, and she would know that you are more valuable than one noblewoman's virtue. I see the way you look at me. You still want me."

"The answer was no then and it's no now, Theophilia. I'm certain you've been told that I'm on another grand harvest of souls, haven't you?"

A shadow went through her big blue eyes. They were not as bright as they had been during the Turquoise Conquest. Age had dimmed and, perhaps, so had disillusionment. The Heacharids were brutal, and even one who did not swing their swords had to know it.

"We should not speak out here in the air. Come with me belowdecks."

"Away from my bodyguards?"

She blushed, and I saw a glimpse of the young woman I had known. "You may bring them too."

I remembered how wanton she had been, writhing beneath the tongues of my hetairoi. They were gone now, and Theophilia had betrayed me once already. She would not get another chance.

"No, Theophilia. I am sorry our child is gone, but your empire is a poison on Thür. I will slay as many countrymen unto my last breath if need be."

She nodded, and I thought, for an instant, the sadness and regret in her eyes was genuine. "I understand. I betrayed you. I was a young fool to think you could love me after that. Go with Xomera, Dreadstorm, and know that should your heart ever soften, you may come to me."

The peace talks came to nothing. I dutifully reported to the Doge that the Heacharids tried to seduce me with promises of a wife, and he laughed. "They do not know of that Kharsoomian minx of yours. Foolish to offer a man less than he already possesses." I counted the minutes until I could be free of his oily presence.

Soon Talynore was too big to be on the walls anymore. She cursed me for it, but I saw a sparkle in her magenta eyes. She was growing comfortable in Azureview, and more and more I saw her spending time with the others, watching Arkohnus and Faustan with affection, critiquing Threch's fighting style, spending time with Tanyth or Sarakiel. The irony was that the siege had turned a place to stay into a home. We wanted her to stay, and with every passing day, I believe she wanted it more.

The siege had nearly finished its second year. My burgeoning ranks of stormwights were a constant buzz in my mind, Diotenah's ring pleased with the use of its fell power. I had not intended to build such a force. It was inevitable, as every time the Heacharids returned to the wall, I would slay more of them than struck down my undead forces. I kept them in the killing zones between the walls, waiting for the Heacharids to make it through.

That particular evening, I put them out of my mind. Talynore, heavily pregnant, was nude in bed with me. She leaned back against me as I massaged her aches. She was no longer on the walls, as our child's birth drew inexorably closer. Though we had shared so much, my nerves were still jagged around her. I wanted her to stay so much, but I knew that was antithetical to her nature. What I loved was that she was truly free, and if she stayed, she would no longer be that. I wanted what I could not have, but that did not stop me wanting.

"This is the kind of mistake that will cost my reputation," she sighed. "Hired to protect a city and end up with a baby in me."

"There will be other wars," I said, caressing her belly, "other sieges."

"Oh, don't sound so smug. Trapping me in this gilded cage of yours."

I laughed, brushing her hair from her neck and kissing the corded muscle I found there. "You feel trapped?"

"Yes. No." She groaned. "I don't know. I am comfortable here the way I was nowhere else, but... I don't like to be comfortable. I am a warrior."

"You won't be pregnant forever."

"And then what?"

"You could join the city guard, or the regular army. Not the Kallisites."

"Their masks would chafe, I think."

"And you won't want to take their vows. One is chastity."

"Does that include the mouth?"

"I didn't ask, but I am assuming yes."

She pouted. "Why would I want to join any of those anyway?"

"If you were to stay. In Castellandria. With us."

"Bel..."

"I know. There is nothing that says you couldn't keep working as a freeblade. A child would be quite safe here." I kissed her again, and she was beginning to respond. "Sarakiel and Tanyth keep asking if you'll stay."

"Tempting me with those seductresses you married." She stretched, the smile sounding through her voice. "Do you think one of them would like to join us?"

"How will they get here?" I teased.

"What?"

"Out here on this uncharted isle in the middle of a war?"

She chuckled, understanding the game I wished to play. She wanted to play it to, for it was the only way we could truly pretend that no future mattered. "Oh, what an excellent point. We are marooned alone with no hope of rescue."

I caressed her breasts, the nipples hard against my hand. I began to smell that lovely, peaty lavender.

"Not in the cunny," she said in the words of our youth. "I've no night tea and I'll not bear your whelp."

Her beautiful vulgarity caressed me. "Certain I can think of something."

She moved up, her buttocks against my staff, caressing me with it. I spoke a word, and slicked, I found my way inside her. She wrapped an arm about my neck as she moved against me. We found our bliss together as he had on that island so many times. When finally we were finished, entwined in our love, her magenta eyes found mine.

"Very well," she said, kissing me. "I'll stay."

I embraced her. "We will make you content here."

A shadow passed over her face. "I know you will."

"Let me bring you water," I said, making my way from the room.

"And either a darkling or a Kharsoomian," she called after me.

In that moment, I had the most foolish hope of all, that she would stay. But even then, I knew it for what it was.

Talynore bore our daughter a month before the siege broke. She named her Malycent, and I loved her more than all the world. Malycent would prove to have so much of Talynore's spirit, but far more direction. When she came of age, her adventures would be legendary.

I sat in the bedchamber Talynore had taken as her own. She rested, exhausted, covered in sweat, a sheet over her body, and Malycent on her chest. I sat by them, my hand on one or the other. We had no need to speak. In those too brief moments, we were content.

We broke the siege not long after. This is one place where I point to the account in the Historiae Heacharae as my favorite. It is the only one that describes my role in the fight with the appropriate horror. I suppose I would be horrified too to find stormwights clawing their way onto my ships in the middle of the night and dragging sailors to drown at the bottom of the Castelpont.

Ryphas Dell, in his diary, mentions both Lysethe and Threch in these battles, as all three of them were part of the land portion of the attack. He refers to her as Pale Death, and was captivated by her beauty as well as her ferocity. He never knew she was my concubine, and that our child was at the breast of a darkling maid as she slaughtered Heacharids. I wonder if that would have offended his sensibilities.

The Heacharid army retreated, and trade flooded into the city. The following weeks of plenty turned the streets into a celebration. We needed a little joy, I suppose. I was so enamored with little Malycent. Something about the creature filled me with love. I took to carrying her in my elven robes, the clever garment keeping her safely secured to my chest.

The household once again turned to its functions. Tanyth distributed what remained of our stores to those who needed them, while workmen started on labor that had gone undone for two long years. Ulrika and I returned to our planning the adventure into the Caster Mountains. We would depart in a few short months, and I was already missing those I would leave behind.

It was a month or two after the siege when Talynore came to me out on the courtyard. She was armed and armored, her face unreadable. "I've joined a company of freeblades. Kingdoms to the east, having some kind of war."

The bolt hit my heart, but I tried not to show it on my face. I knew this was inevitable, and in some ways I wanted it. It meant she was still untamable. It would be foolish to condemn her for leaving, for I had an expedition to Esmia planned. "I understand."

"The baby will be fine here, won't she?" I noticed she didn't use Malycent's name.

Even now, Malycent was in Tanyth's arms. My Kharsoomian princess still had not conceived a child, and Malycent was in her arms far more than in Talynore's.

"She will be more than fine. She will be well looked-after."

"I'll return as soon as I can," Talyonre said, but we both knew that was not true.

I kissed her once and she was gone. This place was never for her. She had only fooled herself into thinking it could be. The road called, and she would heed it. Talynore only returned to me in her dotage. In the end, her own descendants looked after her, something she never failed to find amusing. I bore her no ill will, grateful for the time she had given, and more grateful for little Malycent.