Age of Swords (The Legends of the First Empire #2)

“Because the Fhrey seek to kill us,” Persephone said.

Some of the gathered were drinking, some shifting their seats because smoke was blowing toward them, most were just staring out into the dark or into the flames with the same vacant expressions they’d worn all evening. But at that moment, everyone focused on their new chieftain. For a full minute, the only sound was the crackle of the fire.

No one had explained the full details of what had happened when Arion and Gryndal waged a battle of magic outside the lodge, the day Raithe killed his second Fhrey. All the residents of the dahl had witnessed the fight, but the verbal exchanges had been in the Fhrey language. Only Persephone, Suri, and Malcolm understood it well, and none of them, nor any of the Fhrey, had volunteered explanations. Raithe knew more than most. He wasn’t fluent, but his father had taught him enough to understand part of what had been said, and it was clear that Gryndal’s death wouldn’t be the end of the conflict.

“The rumors we heard during Chieftain Konniger’s first clan meeting are true,” Persephone said. “The Fhrey have destroyed the dahls of Dureya and Nadak and have added Dahl Rhen to the tally. But we now know the Fhrey aren’t gods, and their actions weren’t revenge for the death of Shegon, the first Fhrey killed by Raithe. The fane, leader of the Fhrey, has had plans to rid the world of us for years. They fear us because of our growing numbers and because we are a people capable of challenging them, able to defeat them.”

Again, Persephone paused to look around at their faces, to give those gathered the chance to comment. No one did. The fire crackled, a burst of sparks floated skyward, and Persephone went on. “Some of you already know, or have guessed, that Nyphron and his Galantians are hiding here because they refused orders to slaughter us. Likewise, Arion risked her life defending this dahl against Fane Lothian’s sorcerer. You saw what happened for yourselves. Now the Fhrey ruler has sent giants and storms. But we’re still alive. We endure. I’m sure this most recent attack will not be the end of his aggression. Yes, they will be back, and next time they’ll likely send an army.”

Raithe watched fear creep back into the faces of those who thought they had faced the worst life could muster, and the combination was a current dragging everyone toward hopelessness.

“But,” Persephone began again, this time with a louder voice, “we aren’t helpless. We who were never a threat before will become what they fear the most. When news of the other dahls’ destructions first reached us, I stood in the lodge and told everyone of a plan to save ourselves. No one listened to me then, but you must listen to me now.” She took a step forward so that the fire’s light shimmered on her face. “I’ve already sent runners to Menahan, Melen, Tirre, Warric, and the Gula clans, asking their chieftains to convene a summit at Tirre. We will unite all our leaders, form a war council, and appoint a single keenig to lead us.”

“But how can we fight against giants and storms?” Cobb asked.

Nyphron stood up. “I will teach you. Many of you saw our battle with the giants. Twelve against seven, but we won without a single wound.”

“But that’s because you’re Fhrey,” Filson the Lamp said.

“And was it a Fhrey who killed Gryndal?” Nyphron pointed at Raithe. “He’s already killed two of my kind, and he isn’t particularly special. He has, however, been trained. My father taught his father how to fight, and he passed those skills on to his son. I can do the same with you. The only differences between Fhrey and Rhunes are training, tools, and experience. I can give you all of these. My Galantians are the best warriors in the world, and they will teach you all they know.”

“But even you were powerless when Gryndal came,” Engleton said. “What chance have we against magic?”

Nyphron pointed to Raithe. “Have you seen the markings on the shield Raithe carries? Did you see what happened when the fane’s sorcerer turned his magic against the Dureyan? The answer is nothing. Nothing at all. Raithe was unharmed, protected by markings discovered ages ago by the Dherg people. We will use these markings to negate the power of those who would wield the Art against us. You have superior numbers. You have the protection of the Dherg runes. And you will be trained by the most capable warriors Elan has ever known. If I thought you wouldn’t be victorious, I wouldn’t be here. I and my Galantians would have left long ago.”

Nyphron pointed to Persephone. “Your chieftain is wise. The fane will not stop until your kind is exterminated. This war is winnable, if you’re willing to fight.” He took his seat once more, and all eyes went back to Persephone.

“In the morning we will begin preparations to leave our home and travel to Tirre. There’s nothing left for us here, and the farther we can get from Alon Rhist the safer we will be,” Persephone told them all. “Within the week Clan Rhen marches south.”





CHAPTER FOUR


Rapnagar




As far as I know, Suri was the first of our kind to use the Art. It must have been wonderful to do magic, except when it was not.

—THE BOOK OF BRIN





Bodies were broken in half, collapsed on one another or lying side by side. Hundreds were dead, maybe thousands. Many were strangers; some mere acquaintances; others friends, but a few Suri considered family. The horror was almost too much to bear as she moved through the forest of fallen trees ravaged by the storm. She’d seen storms before, windstorms, ice storms, floods, and fires, but those had always been the will of Wogan—this wasn’t.

And then there was Magda.

Suri and Minna led the way through the decimated forest; they traveled quickly, but Arion managed to keep up, so her headache must have improved. She moved with a nimble, youthful grace that contradicted Arion’s past comments about being old. She seemed anything but elderly. Even without hair, and perhaps because of its absence, Suri thought Arion was the most beautiful person she’d ever seen—on par with the big swans from the high lake or the snowy owl that used to winter near the mountain’s western face. Arion had that same smooth elegance and otherworldly serenity. And her skin was perfect: no pimples, blotches, wrinkles, or marks. Most of the time, she didn’t seem real at all.