The Broken Isles

blade.’

‘Go on,’ Jeza said, ‘it’s quite all right. This is the whole point. Just use your blade the way you would do normally — on the battlefield or in a duel or whatever.’

‘But only on the armour,’ Coren laughed awkwardly, slapping his protection. His face turned sour. ‘No, really.’

Coren took a wide stance and held his arms out away from his body. At first Brynd made a quick, effortless stab towards him. His blade pinged off, and Coren did not move.

He beamed. ‘Go on.’

‘All right,’ Brynd said. First of all he walked around to see where the body armour was fitted, so that he wouldn’t injure him, and then he commenced with some more vigorous moves, striking the body armour in various zones, harder and harder, until he began to break sweat.

Coren stood there, his eyes closed, as Brynd continued this mock-assault. Brynd tuned in to his enhanced strength and began using the same force as on the battlefield. Coren hardly moved and the body armour did not even show signs of scarring.

Brynd ceased his attack, just a little breathless, and sheathed his sword. Once he regained his composure, he asked, ‘What material is this?’ and tapped the breastplate. ‘It’s not even dented.’

‘There’s more,’ Coren said. ‘See how light this is.’ He lifted the body armour off his torso with remarkable ease — for the same size piece of equipment made from metal, it would have required another to help with its removal.

Brynd asked, ‘Where did you get this from?’

‘We made it,’ Jeza said. Then she slowly explained the process behind its construction.

‘It’s made from Okun shell?’ Brynd asked. He ran his hand through his hair. ‘The concept. . it’s abhorrent.’

‘No, no,’ Jeza continued. She walked around calmly and waved to test pieces. ‘One is the Okun shell, the other is a replica of its. . fabric. We’ve used, um, what you might call cultist energy to re-create it. It’s not the same thing — you wouldn’t actually be wearing an Okun shell, far from it, and you wouldn’t even know it until you told someone.’

‘I fought against these things, you see. Relentless and brutal — like nothing I’ve ever witnessed before. They possessed such power and killed so many of us.’ His mind flashed to the combat within the narrow lanes of the city: blood spurting against high stone walls, soldiers being savaged, their remains being stomped into cobbles; then the smell of burning flesh on the funeral pyres night after night as innumerable souls were set free.

‘And just think,’ Jeza said, ‘if you were able to use such a negative in acting for good. This substance is tougher and lighter than anything the military currently uses, right?’

‘Right,’ Brynd admitted.

‘We could make this armour for you,’ she said. ‘We can’t promise in what quantity just yet, but enough to mean something.’

Brynd asked to hold the specimen and studied it in immense detail, tilting it this way and that, attempting to bend it with his strength. ‘If I gave specifications,’ he said, ‘if I provided samples of our own armour, the design and so on, would you be able to meet those requirements?’

‘Sure.’ Jeza looked across to the others, who remained silent during this discussion. ‘We’re even working on designs for other parts of the body, too — legs, arms, head.’

How could such young minds produce this quality of technology?

Brynd’s mind began fizzing with potentials. He imagined row upon row of soldiers equipped with this war gear; fast-moving ground troops who would be well-protected and more mobile than ever before. There would be less fatigue, fewer casualties.

Brynd extended his hand to Jeza. She looked at it for a moment, uncertain of what to do.

‘We’ve not yet talked money,’ Jeza said, and moved her hands to her hips. ‘But I’d be happy to do that as well.’

Brynd raised an eyebrow. Smart. Businesslike. Took guts for her to say that. ‘We’ll talk money soon enough. I need to speak to the accountants before I can make any offers. Be assured you have me on board. I’d like to visit again, very soon, and see what more you can offer. How soon can you make two more? A day, two, three?’

‘Now we know we can do that in a day easily. We’ve done all the hard work.’

‘Good, because this. .’ he held up the armour again, ‘this could change things.’

NINE

‘Artemisia. .’ Brynd called to her where she was stood on one of the balconies of the Citadel. The blue warrior-woman was staring out across the sea. It was a grey day, with sleet-filled skies and a rough surf. Whereas at street level the repairs to the fac?ades of buildings suggested some sort of progress, from this vantage point much of the wreckage of Villiren could still be seen. Ruined building after ruined building rolled down to the shattered harbour front; many were devoid of interiors, others were propped up by scaffolding. It was in this region where Brynd had witnessed the ferocity of the other world meeting his own; it was hard to shake those horrors from his mind.

‘Commander,’ Artemisia replied. She continued to regard the cityscape. A gust of wind buffeted her, sending her hair spiralling around her shoulders. Those two large blades never left her back, in clear contradiction to the regulations he was trying to establish. ‘How does it go with the money men?’ she asked.

‘As positive as can be expected from dealing with their sort,’ he replied, now standing alongside her. ‘They do not have an altruistic bone in their body. They exist solely to make themselves richer and, if society just so happens to be reconstructed at the same time, then that is simply a happy coincidence.’

‘I am surprised,’ Artemisia continued, ‘that this is the state of affairs here. Where I come from, we do not allow so much wealth to sit in the hands of so few — that way leads to great power imbalances, and it is very difficult to get things done. Our elders are experienced, yes, but they rotate their roles with newcomers each cycle.’

Brynd sighed with a smile. ‘Here it gets even more complex. The money men, as you put it, need laws to protect their wealth, which is why I’ve brought in legal assistance to form a set of laws — a universal treaty — once all this mess is over. I’ve made it clear that construction of society is the highest priority.’

‘You are a man of great vision,’ Artemisia said. ‘Yet for one who is so optimistic, it seems you are perpetually unhappy.’

‘I don’t get paid to be happy,’ Brynd said.

‘You do not, it seems, get paid at all at the moment,’ Artemisia pointed out.

‘I see your Jamur is improving vastly,’ Brynd said bitterly. Then, ‘I’ve had trouble finding you for a while — what have you been up to?’

‘I have been here and there through the gates, many times. You have come across the assembled forces, I understand?’

‘Indeed, and it’s a most impressive array of forces. I was speechless when I saw them — a most successful effort.’

Brynd thought he saw pride in her appearance then: a subtle changing in her posture and expression.

‘However,’ she continued, ‘it does not at times seem to be enough, for so many have died in our world. We want to evacuate many more of our civilians here as well as the military — because on your islands there is sanctuary. We need to settle here. We are losing everything of our home.’

‘Your resources will be a hugely significant help to us here,’ Brynd said. ‘This is a different world. I know the geography of it better than an emperor cooped up in a high tower. My men have shed blood over most of it. Trust me, the landscape here is different, the people are stubborn — but we’ll need to work together. Once we have victory behind us, we can settle any differences, but we must remain a united force, no one-upmanship.’