Words of Radiance
Humming to Resolve moved through the crowd. So far as she could hear, not a one hummed to Skepticism. Excellent.
“This will require each soldier to join me in this form,” Eshonai shouted, her words being relayed through the ranks.
More humming to Resolve.
“I am proud of you,” Eshonai said. “I am going to have the Storm Division go among you and take your word, each of you, on this transformation. If there are any here who do not wish to change, I would know of it personally. It is your decision, by right, and I will not force you—but I must know.”
She looked to her stormforms, who saluted and broke apart, moving in warpairs. Eshonai stepped back, folding her arms, watching as these visited each other division in turn. The new rhythms thrummed in her skull, though she stayed away from the Rhythm of Peace, with its strange screams. There was no fighting against what she had become. The eyes of the gods were too strongly upon her.
Nearby, some soldiers gathered, familiar faces beneath hardened skullplates, the men bearing bits of gemstone tied to their beards. Her own division, once her friends.
She could not quite explain why she had not chosen them at first for the transformation, instead picking two hundred soldiers from across many divisions. She’d needed soldiers who were obedient, but not known for their brightness.
Thude and the soldiers of Eshonai’s former division . . . they knew her too well. They would have questioned.
Soon, she had gotten word. Of her seventeen thousand troops, only a handful refused the required transformation. Those who had declined were gathered on the practice grounds.
As she contemplated her next move, Thude approached. Tall and thick-limbed, he had always worn warform save for two weeks as a mate to Bila. He hummed to Resolve—the way for a soldier to indicate a willingness to obey orders.
“I am worried about this, Eshonai,” he said. “Do so many need to change?”
“If we do not transform,” Eshonai said, “we are dead. The humans will ruin us.”
He continued to hum to Resolve, to indicate he trusted her. His eyes seemed to tell another story.
Melu, of her stormforms, returned and saluted. “The counting is finished, sir.”
“Excellent,” Eshonai said. “Pass word to the troops. We’re going to do the same thing for everyone in the city.”
“Everyone?” Thude said to Anxiety.
“Our time is short,” Eshonai said. “If we do not act, we will miss our opportunity to move against the humans. We have two storms left; I want every willing person in this city ready to take up stormform before those have passed us. Those who will not are given that right, but I want them gathered so we may know where we stand.”
“Yes, General,” Melu said.
“Use a tight scouting formation,” Eshonai said, pointing toward parts of the city. “Move through the streets, counting every person. Use the non-stormform divisions too, for speed. Tell the common people that we’re trying to determine how many soldiers we will have for the coming battle, and have our soldiers be calm and sing to Peace. Put those people who are willing to transform into the central ring. Send those who are unwilling out here. Give them an escort so that they do not get lost.”
Venli stepped up to her as Melu passed the word, sending ranks out to obey. Thude rejoined his division.
Every half year, they did an accounting to determine their numbers and see if the forms were properly balanced. Once in a while, they would need more volunteers to become mates or workers. Most often, they needed more warforms.
That meant this exercise was familiar to the soldiers, and they took easily to the orders. After years of war, they were accustomed to doing as she said. Many had the same depression that the regular people expressed—only for the troops, it manifested as bloodlust. They just wanted to fight. They would probably have charged head-on against the human encampments, and ten times their own numbers, if Eshonai ordered.
The Five all but handed this to me, she thought as the first of the unwilling began to trickle out of the city, guarded by her soldiers. For years I’ve been absolute leader of our armies, and every person among us with a hint of aggression has been given to me as a soldier.
Workers would obey; it was their nature. Many of the nimbles who hadn’t transformed yet were loyal to Venli, as the majority of them aspired to be scholars. The mates wouldn’t care, and the few dulls would be too numb of brain to object.
The city was hers.
“We’ll have to kill them, unfortunately,” Venli said, watching the unwilling be gathered. They huddled together, afraid, despite the soft songs of the soldiers. “Will your troops be able to do it?”
“No,” Eshonai said, shaking her head. “Many would resist us if we did this now. We will have to wait for all of my soldiers to be transformed. They will not object then.”
“That’s sloppy,” Venli said to Spite. “I thought you commanded their loyalty.”
“Do not question me,” Eshonai said. “I control this city, not you.”
Venli quieted, though her humming to Spite continued. She would attempt to seize control from Eshonai. It was an uncomfortable realization, as was the realization of how deeply Eshonai herself wanted to be in control. That didn’t feel like her. Not at all.
None of this feels like me. I . . .
The new rhythms’ beats surged in her mind. She turned from such thoughts as a group of soldiers approached, towing a shouting figure. Abronai, of the Five. She should have realized that he’d be trouble; he maintained mateform too easily, avoiding its distractions.
Transforming him would have been dangerous, she thought. He has too much control over himself.
As the stormform soldiers pulled him to Eshonai, his shouts beat against her. “This is outrageous! The dictates of the Five rule us, not the will of a single person! Can’t you see that the form, the new form is overriding her! You’ve all lost your minds! Or . . . or worse.”
It was discomfortingly close to the truth.
“Put him with the others,” Eshonai said, gesturing toward the group of dissidents. “What of the rest of the Five?”
“They agreed,” Melu said. “Some were reluctant, but they agreed.”
“Go and fetch Zuln. Put her with the dissenters. I don’t trust her to do what is needed.”
The soldier didn’t question as she towed Abronai away. There were perhaps a thousand dissenters there on the large plateau that made up the practice grounds. An acceptably small number.
“Eshonai . . .” The song was sung to Anxiety. She turned as Thude approached. “I don’t like this, what we’re doing here.”
Bother. She had worried that he would be difficult. She took him by the arm, leading him a ways off. The new rhythms cycled through her mind as her armored feet crunched on the stones. Once they were far enough away from Venli and the others for some privacy, she turned Thude to look him in the eyes.
“Out with it,” she said to Irritation, picking one of the old, familiar rhythms for him.
“Eshonai,” he said quietly. “This isn’t right. You know it’s not right. I agreed to change—every soldier did—but it’s not right.”
“Do you disagree that we needed new tactics in this war?” Eshonai said to Resolve. “We were dying slowly, Thude.”
“We did need new tactics,” Thude said. “But this . . . Something’s wrong with you, Eshonai.”
“No, I just needed an excuse for such extreme action. Thude, I’ve been considering something like this for months.”
“A coup?”
“Not a coup. A refocusing. We are doomed if we don’t change our methods! My only hope was Venli’s research. The only thing she turned up was this form. Well, I’ve got to try and use it, make one last attempt to save our people. The Five tried to stop me. I’ve heard you yourself complain about how much they talk instead of acting.”
He hummed to Consideration. She knew him well enough, however, to sense when he was forcing a rhythm. The beat was too obvious, too strong.
I almost convinced him, she thought. It’s the red eyes. I’ve instilled in him, and some of the others of my own division, too much of a fear of our gods.
It was a shame, but she’d probably have to see him, and her other former friends, executed.
“I see you’re not convinced,” Eshonai said.
“I just . . . I don’t know, Eshonai. This seems bad.”
“I’ll talk you through it later,” Eshonai said. “I don’t have time right now.”
“And what are you going to do to those?” Thude asked, nodding toward the dissenters. “This looks an awful lot like a roundup of people who don’t agree with you. Eshonai . . . did you realize your own mother was among them?”
She started, looking and seeing her aging mother being guided to the group by two stormforms. They hadn’t even come to her with the question. Did that mean they were extra obedient, following her orders no matter what, or were they worried she would weaken because her mother refused to change?
She could hear her mother singing. One of the old songs, as she was guided.
“You can watch over that group,” Eshonai said to Thude. “You and soldiers you trust. I’ll put my own division in charge of the people there, you at their head. That way, nothing will happen to them without your agreement.”