Rialus thought for a moment. He seemed reluctant about the answer he came up with. “Yes, but they want war and conquest, murder just as much. They are vile. Just vile!”
“They are not ‘just vile.’ There is more to them than that. If you cannot see that, then you have only one of two choices: destroy them or be destroyed by them. I want more than two choices. Rialus, you yourself told me the Auldek once built magnificent cities. You said they sing poems of love and tell tales of valor. You said that they trained birds to dance about them, to land even in their mouths! You said that in their country eating human flesh was a crime. And you said, Rialus, that you were certain that their codes of honor mean more to them than ours do to us. I’m sorry to use your own testimony against you, but the race you described to me was not entirely vile. And the part of it that is most vile-the ways they use our people as slaves, body and soul… that is something we partnered with them on.”
Rialus shook his head. “I pray you destroy them all.”
“I pray for something better,” Aliver said.
Mena’s young officer Perrin spoke for the first time. “If we do make peace with them, what’s to stop them from becoming our enemies again sometime? They’ve suffered coming over here. We made sure of it.” He glanced down at his hands, which were wrapped with layers of new bandages. Frostbite, suffered on the long run south with the Auldek tormenting them. He had lost parts of all his fingers. He knew something about suffering, though it barely showed on his boyish face.
What a group we are, Aliver thought. Perrin with his hands two bandaged mallets. Kelis with one hand part flesh and part metal. Naamen, born with one stunted arm, small of stature. Rialus, sniffling through his peeling nose, his eyes darting about, nervous as a mouse. Haleeven, once an enemy, now a grave face watching him from the back of the small group. And Mena, bruised and battered, her shoulder wrapped and arm in a sling, ready to shake free of it and bring up a sword again at a moment’s notice. An extraordinary group…
“But what about in ten years?” Perrin asked. “Twenty? Who is to say they won’t come at us again? I would not want future generations to have to face them because we didn’t.”
“Nor would I. But it may also be that a future generation will find them to be friends. I am an idealist, Perrin. Have you heard that about me?”
The young man smiled. Nodded.
“What else can I do but provide the possibility of us all finding our better natures?”
Haleeven, sitting behind most of the others, said, “I can testify that such a thing is possible. Enemies may become friends.” Lest he sound wistful, he carried on more sharply, “But will our soldiers accept this? All these people, they’ve come to fight, haven’t they?”
“They came to live. They came because living meant they might have to fight. It’s the peace they want, though, not the war that precedes it. If we can end this honorably, of course, the troops will support it. Perhaps in the future some will find cowardice in the act, but I hope they will see inspiration instead. Mena and Rialus-perhaps you as well, Perrin, Haleeven-think that the Auldek will accept nothing but victory on their terms. Right now, today, that’s probably true. But by tomorrow, if you help me, I believe we can have them thinking differently. Will you help me?”
As nobody objected, Aliver explained it as best he could.
T hey think you’re crazy,” Mena said, once the others had exhausted their questions, talked it all through, and then walked, mystified, out into the fading day.
Aliver smiled. “Yes, but they will get past that soon. Before I got here, they thought you were the crazy one.” He caught the first scent of the dinner stew. That made him smile as well. He could count the time he had left alive on his fingers and toes, and yet he still knew hunger when his belly was empty.
“How is Elya?” he asked.
Mena nodded. “Much better. I think she is healed as much as she is going to. She is strong everywhere except the wing that the frekete chewed on. I’m not sure why. I think she could heal it if she wanted to, but… I don’t know. I may be imagining it. I may be thinking of myself instead, but I feel like the intent of the wound is what she fears. It was too malicious. She was not meant to be attacked like that.”
“With time?” Aliver asked.
“She will heal that, too. Yes, I think so. We will have to be far from here, though.”
“Has she warmed to her children?”
“No,” Mena said. “I know she recognizes them. She stares at them. They approach often, but she hisses them away. They’re so much bigger than she, but they fear her. Corinn took them from her. I don’t know if I can forgive her for that.”
Aliver closed his eyes. He nodded and exhaled a breath and said, “I know.”
With the hand of her good arm, Mena rubbed her injured shoulder. It, too, was healed she said, but only as healed as it could be. That arm had tried to leave her body several times already, the first when she was a girl being pummeled by the surf in Vumu, hand clenched around a sword too heavy for her to even lift at that point. The shoulder was healed by Elya’s touch, but that did not mean it had not been damaged by time and abuse.
“Mena,” Aliver said, “I am going to die.”
“You told me that already, but I don’t need to believe it until it happens. Sire Dagon is a liar. I would not trust him to tell me whether it was snowing outside or not.”
“You’ve changed, Mena. Before you came up here, you would not have talked of snow. You would have said, ‘I would not trust him to tell me whether it was raining outside or not.’ We knew so little of snow on Acacia. Just that one time, really. That’s the only snow I remember.”
He cleared his throat, then coughed for a bit. By the time he quieted the memory had passed. “I can feel it. Believe me. I’ve been to death already. I know what it feels like as it approaches. I’m not scared. I do wish I had-”
He stopped himself. Cut the words with the side of his hand and pushed them away with the flat of it. “It’s hard not to talk of regrets, but I won’t. Waste of time, regret.” He sat forward and took her hands in his. “Mena, I am constantly asking myself if I could live in a world in which the Auldek are at peace with us. Can I find a way to get beyond the crimes they’ve done and the suffering they’ve caused? Can I do all the things that come after this war ends in peace between us? It’s not easy to imagine.” He looked at her a long moment. “When I ask these things, the answer I come back with is yes. Yes. Of course yes. I would be a fool to let even one more good person die if he or she didn’t have to. That’s what tyrants do, not kings.
“The thing is, I won’t be living in that world. So then I ask the same questions, but thinking about the world you’ll live on in, and Aaden and Shen. Do you know what happens to my answer? It changes. It becomes an even firmer yes. I don’t just think you could live in that world. I think you should. I think it will be a world to be proud of.”
“That’s a lot to ask of me.”
“Mena, it’s not the only thing I’m going to ask of you. Both Corinn and I, we expect a great deal from you.”
L ater that night, Aliver once more rose up from his sleeping body. He floated through the top of his tent and hovered in the air above it. For a time he paused there alone, the world quiet around him, save wolves howling somewhere in the distance.
He knew he was not alone when he heard Mena’s voice, saying that she was here.
A little later, Haleeven found them, and then Perrin, glowing bright as he moved toward them. Soon, they were all there with him. Beautiful spirit selves, pure energy and light, hovering about the earth.
“All right,” Aliver said. “Come harvesting with me. Come, you will like this work. Remember, we are not killing. We are setting innocents free. Come harvesting souls with me.” So saying, he led them north, toward the sleeping Auldek.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
Amazing, Corinn thought, how different one wave can look from another. She would never have believed it before, but after days on the wing, with only water beneath them, she began to see waves that seethed and waves that crested, ones that bulged in soft mounds and others that cut like blades, some smooth and black as stone,
