THE JOURNALS OF THE LEGENDARY LEGATE XUR

  What the hell is wrong with you?

  “It’s complicated.” Nia told Ajaxi as she entered the stall with him and Khayli. Her nerves were on edge after a few days of being ignored by the Governor. She resigned herself to the monotonous task of currying the loose dirt from his flank. Nia grabbed the brush, running it against Ajaxi’s coat with long, sweeping strokes. Ajaxi’s brown eyes closed and he nickered softly. She had just begun brushing his dark name when Lero barged into the stables.

  “There you are!” Khayli whined and Lero stopped briefly. “And hello to you too sweet girl.” Her brother crossed his arms. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. The princess has called for us.”

  Nia’s hands tightened around the brush’s handle. She looked down at her riding linens, wondering if she had time to change. What exactly did one wear to a summonings from the crown princess of the Ashenian Empire?

  The princess’s envoy was riding back from the city, and Nia had time to change. She waited beside Lero under the shaded portico of the grounds. She shifted her weight uncomfortably. Nia had opted to wear one of the two dresses she had packed, a hand-me-down from Cythe. It was one of her sister’s stately gowns, as turquoise blue as the waters of the kerx and meant to attenuate her bust and hips. Nia felt as if she was swimming in the gown, aware of her angularity and corners that fell in all the wrong places.

  Lero’s forehead was slick with perspiration as he stood at full attention in his armor. Nia’s hand kept flailing at her waist, wanting the comforting weight of the Peddler’s blade. But she had left the knife behind in their rooms. No need to provoke the Ashenian princess who could have them drawn and quartered alive.

  “That must be them. Ready?”

  Nia nodded, bunching the fabric of the dress up around her hips so she wouldn’t trip. Lero marched over to the gate as the palaquins were ushered through. Advisor Clavo sneered as he spotted them, and Nia’s chest constricted tightly in warning.

  The danger of Clavo’s father paled in comparison to the shenian princess. She stepped out of the palanquin with the aid of her tall guard. Her face was drawn tight. Today, just as yesterday, she was fully donned in armor; her raven hair braided down her spine in a tight braid. Lero went first to kiss her knuckles, then Wyn-Kai’s.

  Nia bowed her head. The princess’ calloused knuckles were cool to the touch. Her emptiness pits of eyes fell on her briefly, curiously. Nia inhaled sharply as she stood. She was trapped in the eyes of a vengeful god.

  That’s because she is you idiot! Look away! Look away!

  Nia’s attention shot to the safety of the princess’ leather sandals. The Governor regarded their small party. “I have informed her highness of your urgent mission.” Lero nodded stiffly beside her. “Her highness has requested to see the Legate’s journals, and that you both accompany us. Princess Admrilia, would you like to proceed to the library now?”

  The Princess swiveled her god-like eyes on the governor. “Yes. lead the way.”

  The foyer of the Great Library of Ash-Kai was just as ostentatious as its exterior. Lotus leaf columns with intricate panels of kiyr text rose to support the terra-cotta roof. Massive wind sails swung back and forth from the rafters, circulating the mid-afternoon breeze. Tall cyprus shelves twice Nia’s height extended past the foyer in orderly rows— formulating the walls of an impressive labyrinth.

  Lero’s hand fell on her back, urging her forward. Nia trailed behind the rest of the princess’s party, openly gawking. The Governor led them deeper into the shelves. The princess marched beside him, flanked by her aggressive guards. The men were young, perhaps the princess’ age. One was tall and lithe, the other shorter and stockier. He had the square head and shoulders of an ox. The princess’ guards circled around her in practiced harmony, as if connected by an invisible string. Nia pressed her knuckles to her sternum when she became aware of what the aker was doing.

  Hunt.

  Nia tampered her jaw shut at the demand. She thanked the Lady of the Dunes that they had the foresight to ayia on the eve of their arrival to Ash-Kai. But with the princess’ presence, would they even be able to? Or would Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex be able to sense the monster beneath her skin? The thought sent a fresh wave of anxiety through Nia. Along with the implicit knowledge that the aker wouldn’t wait forever. Nia would have days, a week at most, before the aker would force her release.

  Wyn-Kai led them up an ornate staircase to the second story landing. Nia paused to peer over the railing that overlooked the first floor. She gasped. A large three dimensional map of the entire continent was prominently laid out. Nia had never seen a complete map of the Empire and her eyes drunk in the ridges of the Skytops, the coastline of the Semperimar. Down to the bottom right hand corner for the nation of Pi-Yenja across the sea. Then to the top left for the separate tributaries of Thrys and Bruttanium.

  Around the map, a half-dozen scholars sat cross legged at a series of long tables. Their hands expertly duplicating the original maps at their side onto fresh papyrus. “Our cartography section rivals any on the continent.” Wyn-Kai boasted to the princess up ahead. “The Great Library of Ash-Kai serves as the only repository for the territory.” He cleared his throat. “Naturally, not all of it is publicly available. Our scholars undertake a rigorous apprenticeship and the Great Library is guarded day and night. And where we are headed, the House's private library includes much more than what’s made public, including the histories of Ker and the war.”

  Nia narrowed her eyes. There was more? How many of the betrayers' maps had been looted from De-Asha’s navigators? How many still had the soot stained on their edges?

  Wyn-Kai produced a key from his roves at the end of the landing. The six legionnaires guarding the double doors stepped aside as their party entered the room beyond. A labyrinth of shelves contained the Kai’s private collection. The large room was dimly illuminated by the high windows and the Governor motioned to the lanterns resting near the door. The princesses' guards quickly lit them, following the governor into the maze of shelving. Nia’s eyes hungrily scanned the honeycommed shelves, wondering where the House’s private maps were held.

  After a few minutes, the Governor stopped at a thickly packed shelf. His hands danced through the accounts before pausing. “Here they are.” The Governor grabbed four thin leather bound journals. “I recommend we find some seating.” Wordlessly, the group followed Wyn-Kai to the sitting area near a window not blocked by shelving. Nia sank down next to Lero on a short bench. Advisor Clavo leaned against a bookcase opposite of them, his scowl already affixed.

  The Governor laid the Journals down on a short desk. Princess Admrilia eased into the seat next to him. “My suggestion is that we start with this one, your highness.” He held up a journal. “This is the Legate’s account from the final months of the war.”

  “Very well.”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “I will read the entries aloud so that we can all hear them. If anyone has anything to add, or a thought that could contribute to the mission of fulfilling the Conqueror’s demands. Speak up.” Not hearing any objections, Wyn-Kai the Betrayer cracked the cover and began reading.

  The crown prince has cleaved the sky and begot the wrath of the Stormlord. The House of the Doorway has fallen — glory be to the Stormlord and his son. The Houses have fled west. We shall follow the Ten to all corners of the earth.

  — Legate Scipio Sulla Vipsanius

  The 2nd month of the 10th year of the Ker Conquest

  We breached the legendary gates of the House. In the great hall I slew the Baron and as the last Ram lay dying by my sword the crown prince decreed that from this day forth until my last I shall be called Scipio Sulla Xur, the destroyer of the House of Ram.

  — Legate Scipio Sulla Xur

  The 4th month of the 10th year of the Ker Conquest

  We have taken Xur. The city stands as our legion’s stronghold against the harsh Dunelands. Their army cannot survive without the First House’s aid. Their sacred city is trapped on the edge of the world. We have intercepted their supplies; slaughtered their navigators; decimated their priests; severed their necks from their savage Goddess. The Ten’s lifeblood runs dry. Victory is imminent.

  — Legate Scipio Sulla Xur

  The 5th month of the 10th year of the Ker Conquest

  The scouts have reported that the Ten have retreated to Anu-Uro-Set for their final stand. Their Goddess cannot save them from the wrath of the Stormlord and his wyrdling.

  — Legate Scipio Sulla Xur

  The 5th month in the 10th year of the Ker Conquest

  The wings of certain victory are circling Anu-Uro-Set like a vulture. Summer has scorched into autumn. The heat from the Dunelands burns my mens heads and soles. The Ten lay in wait inside the necropolis, eager to trick our men into their maw. Their women, their children will not make it through years end. Their men know they cannot win a war of attrition against the Ashenian Empire. Surely, as the Semperimar is the salt and sea of my veins, those dogs are gnawing on their own bones.

  — Legate Scipio Sulla Xur

  The 8th month of the 10th year of the Ker Conquest

  “Were you?” The princess’s chilling question pierced the silence.

  Wyn-Kai tensed beside her, his eyes suddenly distant. “The situation was dire.” He said shortly. The Governor turned the page, his voice temporarily quivering as he read the next entry:

  The Stormlord has blessed us today. Their priest squealed like a pig before the crown prince. We have uncovered the secret of the Ten’s survival. Tunnels, deep in the eastern rock that the rebels have been using to smuggle in supplies. We shall soon remove this blemish from the earth.

  — Legate Scipio Sulla Xur

  The 8th month of the 10th year of the Ker Conquest

  Their priest led my men into the hills surrounding Anu-Uro-Set. We ride for the tunnels the Ten have dug through the bedrock. Their priest walks with the shuffling gait of a man already dead. The spear a preferable relief to what’s to come. The moon is full as we lie in weight. The die has been cast. By dusk tomorrow this decade’s long war shall be finished.

  — Legate Scipio Sulla Xur

  The 9th month of the 10th year of the Ker Conquest.

  Nia’s eyes stung, envisioning the screams of the woman and children as they realized they were trapped. She exhaled, trying to drown the flood of desperation that hit her. The Governor looked up from the journal solemnly. “There’s a few more entries.” Nia squinted her eyes shut. She didn’t want to hear any more of the first person account. Lero squeezed her hand, his handsome face impassible as the Governor continued:

  The priests have broken the line. They flee for the First House. My men and I shall follow.

  Wyn-Kai paused. “That’s it for this entry.”

  “Why would he possibly be following the priests?” The Ashenian advisor asked.

  “It has to be connected to this star.” Clavo grunted, pushing off from the bookshelf. “The priests could have escaped with it.”

  “That may be your working theory advisor.” Admrilia Ashiphiex folded her hands together. A muscle in her jaw twitched. “But we still do not have any idea what this star is. Or do we, Wyn-Kai?”

  Wyn-Kai sighed and laid his hands flat. “Admittedly, I only knew of the star's existence. When the knowledge of Atesh’s abilities became widespread, the First House kept the star’s existence a prized secret. Only their priests could use it, or see it.”

  “Well isn’t that convenient.” Clavo snapped.

  “I’m telling you the truth. It was tied to the Lady of the Dunes, but the priest's spiritual practices were not widely known by the rest of the Houses, even at the time.”

  “Could they control the environment?” princess Admrilia asked.

  “Unsure.” Wyn-Kai bowed his head. “The Goddess’s wyrd has not been present in our bloodline for centuries. Our House always concerned itself with more secular matters.”

  Advisor Clavo paced. “Surely the Conqueror has verified its existence. Or else he would not have sent my son this directive. Think Governor.” He held up his first. “Did the priests carry a gemstone, about the size of theri first? A comet on earth?”

  Wyn-Kai’s eyes narrowed. “No. Nothing like your Conqueror’s wyrdstone.” His lips soured. “The priests never carried much of anything really. Just their personal effects.”

  “Like what?”

  Wyn-Kai’s mouth thinned. “Their maps, their laps, along with their khosheps, spears and everything else.” Wyn-Kai pointed down at the page. “There’s one more entry.”

  “Read it.” The princess demanded.

  I returned empty handed.

  Wyn-Kai chuckled.

  “What’s so humorous, Governor?” Clavo grunted.

  Wyn-Kai looked up. “Well, I must admit, I’ve known the Legate for decades but I never knew the man to have a sense of humor.” He glanced at the room’s blank expressions. “Empty handed? It’s a double entendre. The Legate had lost his hand during the war.”

  The wriry advisor groaned but Nia felt as if her windpipe had a boot against it. “He lost his hand?” She whispered.

  “Yes. what of it?” Lero asked beside her.

  Nia was going to be sick.

  “When did the Legate lose his hand, Governor?” Princess Ashiphiex asked.

  The Governor’s eyebrows pitched upwards. “I’m not sure, it was so many years ago. It must have been after the siege and surrender, because he certainly would have mentioned it earlier.”

  Nia exhaled through her nostrils, quashing the waves of flight instincts that screamed at her to run out of the Great Library and straight for the Dunes. The princess’s head turned to her slowly, like an eagle honing in on its prey. Her obsidian eyes were trained on her. Calculating. Prying. As if she could serrate each and every one of Nia’s thoughts until she could find what she was looking for. But thanks to the Skytops, Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex could not read her mind. Could not see the crushed hand beneath her boot; because if the princess could, Nia would have already been dead.