The wind runner book 10.., p.76
The Wind Runner: Book 10 (The Wandering Inn), page 76
“To me! We leave the Quarass to her people!”
The crowd roared, and Venith slowly drew the circle inwards, forming around Flos and Teres. The Quarass took a few deep breaths, then glanced at Teres with a frown. She was standing by the King of Destruction, and you would have had to have been a fool to not have noticed how she was standing by his side where no one else was.
“Who is this? She is not one of your Seven, King Flos of Reim. Is she a wife? A consort? A slave?”
Teres’ jaw dropped. Flos laughed, and the child-Quarass scowled, embarrassed.
“No. She is not. This is Teres, one of my two personal attendants. Remember her, Quarass.”
“I will.”
Those old eyes swung to Teres, and the girl shuddered. She heard the clatter of hooves and saw Venith riding towards Flos.
“To the palace, Your Majesty? I can’t keep the crowd back, and the ones who fled the city looked—”
“To the gates, Venith! Leave Ger as I promised! Those who fled are enemies of Reim—and of Germina.”
The King of Destruction looked at the Quarass, and she nodded. He stepped forwards. Venith dismounted, but the King of Destruction waved a hand.
“Keep your horse, I’ll walk. Teres, with me!”
He beckoned her, and she followed. Just like that, or perhaps, as expected. You couldn’t help but follow if someone like Flos beckoned. The Quarass knew that. She knew many things, for all she was a girl of barely nine years. She was old and young. She had died, and her body had been carried out of the Seat of Ger weeks before. But she now lived again.
The Quarass lives. As she watched the King of Destruction go, his pledge echoed in her mind. The young Quarass heard a timid voice.
“Quarass?”
She turned. Vaitsha was on her knees. So was the [Councilor of States] and what remained of the Quarass’ court. She knew them all from memory. She knew their names, their pasts, everything the old Quarass had known. But the new one didn’t feel the same way about all of them. She was afraid, scared, and at the same time, weighed down, just like Flos had said. She wished he had stayed, but her memories told her she had to be alone. At least for now.
“Rise, Vaitsha. I am the Quarass. And you are one of my three. What is it you have to say?”
The [Highborn] lady rose, cheeks pale. Eyes sparkling as she looked at her ruler in the flesh. She hesitated, but the young Quarass wasn’t the King of Destruction yet, so she gave words to the uncertainty she and the others around her probably felt.
“Quarass, is it wise? He is the King of Destruction. And he swore an oath. But.”
She trailed off. But. But he had still invaded. But Germina would be absorbed into Reim, even if the Quarass could still rule. But the world feared and hated the King of Destruction and Germina would have to fight wars in Flos’ name. The Quarass knew that too, but she took a different view from the old one. Each Quarass was different, after all.
“Yes. He is destruction, and yes, he did invade. But we have sworn an oath. Better to be a kingdom under another [King] than one ruined by fruitless war. The King of Destruction is a fool, and a force of nature. He cannot be stopped. And though he is a fool, he does not forswear himself. So we are part of Reim. And any who would harm him go against my will. Let that be known.”
She saw Vaitsha’s head bow, along with the other members of court. The Quarass felt a headache, the first in her young life, beset her. How many would be traitorous, or how many could be trusted once they realized she wasn’t the old Quarass? Had the [Councilor of States]—whose name was Ilhmet, a detail even the old Quarass hadn’t really cared much to remember—chosen wisely in Vaitsha and…
The Quarass glanced at the ground. The young street boy had not risen. He was still kneeling, pressing his head to the mud brick. She bent.
“You. What is your name?”
He looked up at her with wide eyes.
“Me, Quarass?”
She glared at him. A young face looking into a boy five years older than she was.
“Yes, you. You are one of my three, are you not? Well, the King of Destruction has already left. So tell me your name, my guardian and companion. And rise, for I have need of your strength.”
The young boy rose. He smiled at his Quarass, and she saw he was strong, for all he was a street child. His body was wiry, and his eyes burned with the courage of a man already.
“I will be your strength, Quarass! And whatever else you ask of me! I am Khalid, who has no last name!”
There was still blood on his skin and clothes from where his arm had bled. The Quarass stared at it. Then she held out her hand. Khalid stared at it, but the Quarass was intent.
“Then, Khalid. I will hold you to that oath. Until my death, let us remake Germina into what it was and could be. Come with me.”
Khalid hesitated. But the Quarass was frowning, so he gingerly took her hand. The crowd that surged forwards as the King of Destruction left paused when they saw him holding the Quarass’ hands. They stopped and stared as the Quarass turned, and her eyes flashed with the memories of countless dead women as Vaitsha and her court knelt behind her.
It was indeed a moment you saw only once in your life. Of such moments were legends born, here, on a small mud brick street, between a street boy and a girl ruler. But such legends are not always told, and another legend that had already echoed around the world once walked calmly out of the city of Ger, capital of Germina.
——
Flos Reimarch, King of Destruction and ruler of Reim and now Germina, stretched his arms up and yawned. Something popped, and he twisted his neck.
“Ah, that’s better. Venith, pull your soldiers out of Germina but keep them in place at the border. You and Maresar will hold here until Orthenon gives you further orders; he’ll no doubt wish to visit, but I shall recall you to Reim shortly. Germina is now allied with Reim, if you had not heard. Maresar, rally your riders. Those who fled the city will soon take up arms against it, and I would rather the Quarass not deal with traitors on her first day.”
Venith and Maresar turned towards their King. The [Soldiers], who had been pelted with paint pellets and sand, coughed and wiped their faces. Teres stared at Flos.
“What, just like that?”
He glanced at her. Flos Reimarch’s voice was a normal Human baritone, when he wasn’t speaking as a [King]. But if you listened, you could still hear that odd reverberation behind some of his words. He was tall, imposing, and, Teres had to admit, handsome, all of which gave him the regal air of…of…well, a [King]. One right out of a children’s book, if the artist was exceptionally talented.
“I told you I planned on crushing Germina’s rebellion today, didn’t I, Teres?”
“You did, but I thought you’d be hanging people or doing something else! I had no idea you meant all that!”
Venith coughed as he stood next to his king. He glanced at Teres with the same bit of bewilderment she always saw him give her. He was still working out her exact rank. Maresar, who was more easygoing and didn’t really care, leaned on Venith’s horse and addressed Flos over the back.
“The Quarass. We can trust her?”
Flos stroked his beard.
“Hm. I can’t say for certain, but my instincts tell me yes. And I have sworn to leave her city. The Quarass was always practical, and her current incarnation seems level-headed. More importantly, she is brave, which is a far better quality to have. So we will give her trust—but only that. Venith’s army will camp outside and still request supplies from Germina. Even if she rallies her entire city, it would be a mistake to set them against your forces.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty. And I will hunt down those stragglers. May I ask why they fled?”
“[The Choice of the Conquered].”
Flos sighed. Maresar’s brows shot up, but she only nodded. Teres stared at Flos.
“The choice of the what? Is that a Skill?”
Venith shot her a glare, probably for talking to the King of Destruction out of turn. Some of the [Soldiers] were also giving Teres the fisheye, but she was used to it. Flos only grinned as he replied.
“Of course. It’s one of my Skills. A powerful one, too. You saw those in the crowd who left after I made my vow and the Quarass allied herself with me? They are rebels. Traitors who won’t obey me or her.”
Teres remembered them pushing out of the crowd, shouting at Flos.
“You mean, you made them like that?”
Flos hesitated.
“Say rather that I gave them a choice. I gave everyone present a choice, Teres. That is the nature of the Skill. If there is even a glimmer of chance that they would acknowledge me as their ruler, they weren’t affected. Only those who will never bow, never suffer me, will flee. Only someone exceptionally high-level or strong of will could have stayed.”
“Oh. So it’s like a…lie detector test? A loyalty test?”
“Mm. Something like that. But as I said, it only finds those for whom I would never command their loyalties. Anyone with even a hint—isn’t affected. Half the crowd could well end up trying to kill me, but there’s a chance they’ll be my citizens. Which is fine by me!”
He laughed again, carefree as could be. That was Flos, and believe it or not, this was actually not that strange of a day for Teres anymore. She shook her head.
“So we resurrected a Quarass, identified a bunch of enemies, and now Maresar hunts them down, Venith camps, and we…do what?”
“Confer, for one more moment. Venith, I need a horse and escort. We head to Hellios on a similar errand. Actually, I would do without the escort if you need the men, but Orthenon will object.”
“As would I. You’ll have a hundred men, Your Majesty.”
Flos sighed as Venith turned and shouted for horses and the escort. He looked at Maresar.
“Lady Maresar—”
“I wasn’t a [Lady] when you first met me, Your Majesty.”
He grinned.
“Bandit Lord Maresar, then. Maresar the Wolf.”
She laughed, and Flos went on as Venith gave both his liege and his wife a look of chagrin.
“Hunt down the fleeing traitors by all means, but don’t overreach. Some might have high levels and flee to pockets of resistance. I struck a deal with the Quarass to ban her child assassins, but some of her [Assassins] may rebel. So be on the lookout for them.”
“I will be careful, my liege.”
“And Maresar, take them captive if possible. Execute them swiftly only if you must.”
Flos sighed. Maresar nodded, the slight smile on her face never changing. Teres eyed her. Take them captive meant turn them into slaves. But she bit her lip rather than say anything. If Trey had been here, he might have objected. Flos sighed.
“It is a pity that they fled, Teres. [Choice of the Conquered] is a useful Skill, but…were I a better king, much less a better [King], I think they would all have stayed. But this is enough. Now Germina is part of Reim.”
“And that’s a good thing? It feels like you just gave up the country.”
Flos smiled.
“Hardly. You think I could manage to subdue Germina without years of martial rule? This was far easier since I knew the Quarass could be reborn. And this is how my empire always expanded. Province by province, kingdom by kingdom. Germina will regain much of its strength with its Quarass, and now its armies will march alongside mine.”
“It’s that easy?”
The King shrugged. Venith had left and was returning with two horses.
“Not at all. Orthenon will need to work closely with the Quarass, and there will still be unrest, difficulties…but it will be far easier now. Venith, I commend you for keeping Germina and the area from full-blown revolt until the Quarass was found. I was honestly worried that they’d forgotten the ritual.”
“It was nothing, Your Majesty. And I will await Orthenon’s visit with pleasure.”
Lady Maresar rolled her eyes and smiled silently. Flos grinned and patted the stallion Venith led towards him. He swung himself into the saddle as Teres awkwardly mounted with a stirrup.
“I missed your lies, Venith. Well, Teres! To Hellios, then! It is a two-day ride from capital to capital nonstop. If we rest our horses and with my Skills, we’ll make it in one. Come! You can tell me a story of gods on the way.”
Like that, he was gone. Venith shouted at the escort of [Soldiers] to ride after the King of Destruction as he rode down the road that slowly changed from mud bricks to just dirt. The King of Destruction rode on, Teres, a girl from another world, at his side. It was early spring. And this was how the King of Destruction spent his days. Riding, talking about other worlds, laughing with his companions of old.
And plotting to take over the world. As one does.
——
The ride through Germina’s lands was quiet. That wasn’t to say that Teres didn’t see people. There were villages, even a town they passed on the road heading east. But there were no travellers on the road aside from a City Runner who took one look at their procession and started running perpendicular to them.
Germina might have had trade, but the [Merchants] and caravans normally travelling between nations and cities had no desire to be caught up in the continuing battles between Germina’s remnants and Flos’ army.
Only one type of caravan would brave the journey right now, and Teres was glad not to see any of that sort. She contented herself with looking around at the arid lands and sparse settlements until that grew boring. Germina, as a nation of oases, was relatively flat, much like Reim. Hellios was apparently more fertile, if only by comparison.
It was a day’s ride from Ger to the capital city of Hellios, Blalevault, even with the fresh horses and Flos’ Skill, which made the ground underneath the hooves of their horses flash past. It was a deceptively slow journey to Teres; until she realized that she was comparing the speed they were going at to that of a car.
Still, a day was a day, which meant that somehow they had to pass the time. Teres didn’t know how the [Soldiers] following them and riding ahead did it, but Flos occupied himself by talking with her. It went something like this. They would be riding along in silence, Teres not thinking of much in particular and zoning out, until she had a thought or question and rode closer to Flos to ask it. Or he did the same to her.
“So, if bringing the Quarass back was so important, why did you wait for nearly a month to do it? Venith was sending you reports of how hard it was to keep control. Why did you wait for them to decide to do it and not do it yourself? Or at least tell them how to do it? That priest guy had no idea.”
Flos was the King of Destruction, but he was surprisingly approachable. And he liked to talk. He shrugged as he rode, back straight, as if he’d been born in the saddle. Teres had learned to ride, if only to keep up, but she wasn’t nearly as good as Flos or Orthenon. Even though she’d gained the [Rider] class and several Skills.
“The court of the Quarass was in hiding, Teres. They feared I would execute them, especially if I knew what they were doing. If I had told them I desired the Quarass’ rebirth, do you think they would have trusted me? No, they would have been suspicious. Moreover, I think that the rebirth of the Quarass is a function of the will of the people as much as it is a hidden requirement of her class. If I had forced it, perhaps the ritual would have failed.”
“Oh. So what is the Quarass? You killed her—and now she’s back? I thought she was like a [Queen].”
“She is the ruler of Germina. No more, no less. There is no one in the world like her. [Quarass] is a unique class. And the first Skill she obtains is [Memory of the Quarass].”
Teres could guess what that Skill did. She shuddered, remembering the old look in the girl’s eyes.
“Is it evil? I mean, they turned that girl into…”
Flos’ face was troubled. He hesitated and casually slapped a bug threatening to bite his horse out of the air.
“She would not have gained the class had she not wished it. But you are right, the child did not know what being Quarass meant. Still, if you are asking whether the class and Skill will take her over—it affects her, but each Quarass is different. I should know; I have met three now. Her Skill does not convey wisdom, nor, I think, is it always helpful. But that child had a spark of her own. She may prove to be a better ruler than the previous Quarass. At the very least, she and I are allies. But I will keep Maresar and Venith here until Orthenon may speak with her and establish governance to his liking. And hers.”
Teres digested that. She frowned.
“Okay. But how do the memories carry over? That was like…rebirth.”
“A form of it. It is a function of her class, which, as I said, is unique. A power that Germina somehow discovered. Or created. Secrets, Teres. This world has secrets. The power of the Quarass’ class to resurrect itself is one such, if a small one.”
That didn’t seem small to Teres. She opened her mouth, inhaled a bug at speed, and coughed. Flos slapped her on the back, laughing, until she spat out the bug and washed her mouth out twice.
“Beware of bugs. Especially as fast as we travel. My turn to ask a question. I believe I asked you to tell me more about gods on the way here, Teres. You told me much about the various religions…can you elaborate on these holy wars you said took place?”
Teres scowled as she spat some water out. She could still taste bitterness in her mouth. And a feeler. She spat that out too.
“Trey’s the one to ask.”
“But he stayed in the capital. I don’t think he enjoys riding, or my company, enough. These holy wars?”
Sighing, Teres thought for a second.
“I don’t know. Okay. There were these kingdoms who believed in Christianity. And they had the Pope.”
“He who was highest of the [Clerics].”
“Um…yes? The closest man to god. And he said—I think, something like ‘the people living in these countries don’t believe in our god. Go kill them.’ And that’s what happened.”
