Her words were clear, but the empress would have none of it. She lowered her brow, staring coldly at Letimpra: This is not your home, Dark One, nor has it ever been. Get out of my study, out of my empire, out of my World!
Your World? You have let it decay for centuries, and I have come to claim it for my own! However, if you insist I cannot have it, then neither will you!
spat Letimpra, and her paw began to glow a pale blue.
Selassei flinched. If her heart inside her chest could have been seen, it too would have been blue. She motioned with her paw and Letimpra found herself without her searing reach. She turned to Litam, a frightening grin spreading across her face. He ducked down behind Selassei's knees, peering around them.
You won't touch him, you foul iźárim!
Selassei cursed, then turned to the mouse. Run. Now. I will hold off Letimpra, but you must hurry. Go!
The empress traced a circle in the air as she spoke, and a ring of white light burst into being in place of the door's last vestiges. Litam leapt through it and was gone.
I know of the prophecies as well as you do,
spoke Letimpra calmly. The smallest of her wounds slowly began to scab over and fade away, and black fur seeped out of her skin. Selassei watched this process from the corners of her eyes, ready for the next attack.
I will not let those mockeries of fact come to pass. As we speak, Kveilaz's armies, strengthened by Mitaria's finest, are rumbling toward your palace. Already, your people are being rended limb from limb, giving Kveilaz power and letting him heal these damnable blemishes. You do not know how it feels to bleed for centuries, but I will show you.
Selassei's lip curled in disgust and outrage. You gutter cur. Those defenceless beasts are no threat to you, and yet you're willing to use them like that? Get back to your inexistence, before you wish you'd never left.
Letimpra just smiled, letting her cracked and pus-stained lips stretch thin and tear open again. As fresh ichor touched the air, she spoke: I don't know where you sent that weak-blooded beast, but I will find him shortly and he will die. It is only a matter of time.
Litam found himself sitting on an ormuff in the midst of an army: Selassei's army. He was outdoors under the dead sky, and paper lanterns were strewn up in a grid over the soldiers to give them light.
He feared for his friends, nowhere to be seen among the soldiers. Spurring his mount, he trotted ahead of the soldiers around him to the front where the banner was flying. A beast in general's attire was there, and Litam moved beside him.
Aaruden!
Litam said.
The cat turned his head to look at the little mouse. Litam?
he asked, startled. What are you doing here? You should be in Talya training with your sword!
I was,
the mouse replied, but Selassei sent me here.
Why? We were searching for another Unholy Stone in the village near here, but found nothing save for ruins. A scout reported enemy soldiers heading this way, so we decided to cut them off.
It's too late, Aaruden,
Litam said. The general's brows rose, then he recoiled in horror.
It's too late,
the mouse repeated. Kveilaz has all of the Unholy Stones already, and Letimpra has been reborn. You're chasing shadows.
Then it seems, Litam, that this will be the last of our battles.
Aaruden closed his eyes and gave a great sigh. He then raised his fingers to his lips and whistled.
Geteźe ya lémi takl, ín bladawanier ij ín sirien d'a Litam!
he said to the sprinter who approached; the beast then ran off again to relay the message and returned shortly with a set of plate armour and a sword sheath in an ormuff's saddlebags.
These are for you,
Aaruden said, indicating the ormuff's burden as well as the ormuff itself. We will be stopping for rations shortly, and you can don the armour when we do.
Where is Briole, Aaruden? He is supposed to be protecting me from whatever happens,
Litam asked.
The squirrel, you mean? He has been with us; he was due to return to Talya next week. Sabje ya der ekúré qa Briole!
They stopped as Aaruden said they would and Litam donned his armour. It was heavy, but it fit him quite well. He sheathed Vaźeblada, then changed his mind and took it out again. It caught the light of the stars, their rays dancing carefully on its perfect edge.
So I am going to fight, it seems. I hope Briole will be able to protect me.
The mouse saw a familiar beast out of the corner of his eye. There was Skenleth, crouching by a large rock. Litam, pulling his ormuff behind him by the reigns, meandered over, and saw a grid of small pits carved into the stone.
What's this, Skenleth? Uh, I mean…
He grabbed the chain mail sleeve of another beast. How do I say that in Tsesial?
You would say
replied Skenleth in Mitarian, a dusting of accent present.Ke iźes dekr, Skenleþ
but you do not need to,
You can understand me?
Selassei conjured an understanding of Mitarian into my mind. I doubt I can write it, but I can certainly speak and understand it as well as you can. I think I prefer Tsesial, though—this is quite a clumsy tongue to use.
So why can't I speak Tsesial?
I do not know; perhaps she did not have time to teach it to you. I will explain anything you don't understand.
Skenleth then drew Litam's attention back to the grid, scratched crudely into the surface of the rock. This is an ancient game of strategy, involving two players. It is called þidoma and it requires great concentration.
Litam sat down beside the fox and examined the board with curiosity—there was no such game in Mitaria. Are you any good?
he asked.
I have some skill at it, but not much. I have been playing the game for years, but I do not always see the routes I need to win.
It's a war-game, a simple kind of battle. It's much like chess, but the goal is to capture all the territory on the board rather than all of the pieces.
Skenleth watched his opponent pick up a black pebble and move it; all of his were black, while the fox's were white.
A otene der londa natve,
the beast said, removing six white pebbles. Sendeźe ya miðe sio maruisz.
Skenleth nodded to him, then looked to Litam.
The mouse spoke quietly: Letimpra has been reborn and will probably come with the Army of the Damned to attack us.
That is not comforting in the least. Many have already died in this war, and Letimpra will no doubt slay many more.
I'm afraid, Skenleth.
Do not be. If we are the victors, there will be parades in the streets across the world, celebrating your name. If we are not… it is of no consequence, for we can do nothing.
Skenleth turned back to the game board, thinking a while before moving a white pebble east on the board and picking up three black ones. Sendeźe ya miðe tro maruisz,
he said, but frowned immediately.
The other beast shouted in triumph, moving a black pebble down the west side of the board and to the centre of the south. Then he picked up all the white pebbles and placed them in a pile on the ground.
Sendeźe ya miðe Tut!
he said as others laughed and congratulated him.
Hmm. I hadn't seen that.
What did he do, Skenleth?
He won.
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