First Lord's Fury (Page 24)

"The vord are eternal. The vord are everywhere. Among the stars, between the worlds, we conquer. We grow. Against us, no victory is possible. You may withstand us for a time, but in ten years, in a hundred years, in a thousand years we will return, stronger and wiser than before. We are inevitable. Your kind is doomed."

Another silence. Tavi looked around at the crowd. Every face was fixed upon the image of the vord Queen. The Alerans looked pale, or sickened, or simply stared in fascination. Canim body language was more difficult to read, but even the wolf-warriors seemed subdued. This was the face of the creature who had all but wiped out their entire civilization – millions upon millions of Canim, entire nations, the smallest of which was nearly half as large as Alera herself.

But regardless of the individual reaction, every person there watched.

They listened.

"I bear you no personal hatred or animosity. I have no desire to inflict pain or suffering upon any individual. I do what I do to protect my children and allow them to prosper. This world is their legacy. They will have it."

The image moved, deliberately lifting her slender, pale hands. She drew back her hood, slowly, to reveal the exotically beautiful face of a young woman – one who looked, in fact, very like Kitai. She had the same high cheekbones, the same long, fine white hair, the same sharp cleanliness of features softened by full lips and wide, canted eyes. But where Kitai’s eyes were brilliant green, the vord Queen’s eyes were black, faceted like an insect’s reflecting the light in a mesmerizing, alien glitter of colors.

"But I am willing to offer you this chance, Alerans. There need not be war between our peoples. I will take your cities. But for those with the wisdom to bow before the tide of history, I will provide places of safety in which you will be permitted to govern yourselves, to support your families, and to live out the natural course of your lives in complete autonomy, save for this: You will not be permitted to bear children. This is within my power.

"The war can end. The fighting can end. The death and famine and suffering can end. I will open the Amaranth Vale to be resettled by your people. And while you are there, you will have my protection. No outsider will be permitted to harm you. The full might of the vord will shield you. My power will allow you to live long lives, free of every pestilence and plague known to your kind.

"I beg you to see reason, Alerans. I offer you peace. I offer you health. I offer you safety. Let the strife between us end. Your leaders have not protected you. Your Legions have been laid waste. Millions of lives have been lost to no purpose. Let it end.

"I make you this offer. Any Aleran who wishes to enter my protection must do only this: Come, unarmed, to any part of the world within the sphere of our control. Tie a band of green cloth around your arm. This will be the signal to my children that you have bowed to the natural order. You will be fed, given care, and transported to places of safety, freedom, and peace."

There was nothing but silence.

Bloody crows, Tavi thought. That’s brilliant.

"Fail to set aside your irrational need to continue this conflict, and you will leave me no other choice." Her hands rose to replace the hood, veiling her alien beauty again. Her voice dropped to a quiet, calm, uninflected murmur. "I will come for you."

Tavi stopped himself from shuddering, but only barely. Max didn’t bother to try.

"Tell your neighbors. Tell your friends. Tell any who were not here to see that the vord offer you peace and protection."

Silence reigned. No one moved.

Max said, very quietly, "Peace and protection. You think she’s serious?"

"No children," Tavi murmured back. "A stranglehold takes longer to kill than does a clean thrust – but it makes you just as dead."

"You don’t feel it when you go, either," Max replied.

"At least now I know why," Tavi said.

"Why what?"

"The vord Queen is keeping a steadholt of Alerans captive, near Alera Imperia. Like animals in a zoo. It was an experiment, to see if it could be made to work."

Max blinked at him. "How did you know about that?"

"Crown secret."

Max grimaced. "If everyone heard this, in all Alera… Tavi you know that there are going to be people scared enough to do anything."

"I know."

"If we lose even part of our people to desertion or surrender, it could kill us. We’re at the brink."

"That’s why she’s doing it. I said it was an attack, Max."

Varg looked over at Tavi with narrowed eyes, his ears pricked forward. The Cane was close enough to have heard even their lowered voices.

"What are we going to do about it?" Max sighed. "Crows, look at them."

Everyone, Canim and Aleran alike, stared at the image of the vord Queen. Their fear and uncertainty filled the air like woodsmoke.

"Tavar," Varg growled suddenly. "Your helmet."

Tavi glanced at the Cane. Then he drew his helmet off and passed it over to Varg.

The Warmaster of the Canim leapt up onto the low stone wall on the edge of the pool, helmet in hand. He stalked through the shallow water until he stood before the image of the vord Queen.

Then he swept the helmet in a horizontal arc, catching the water that formed the hooded head of the vord Queen, decapitating the watery image.

Then he flung back his head and drank the helmet empty in a single draught.

Varg rose to his full nine feet in height before roaring, his basso voice a challenge to the volume of the watersending itself, "I AM STILL THIRSTY!" His sword rasped clear of his scabbard as he lifted it high and faced the Canim soldiers. "WHO WILL DRINK WITH ME?"

Thousands of eyes focused on the Warmaster. The silence became something brittle and crystalline, something that was on the brink of shattering, changing. Fear and rage and despair surged in the air, like the confused, shifting winds that preceded a storm or the currents that could rip swimmers in any direction when the tides began to change.

Tavi dismounted and strode forward to stand beside Varg. His hobnailed boots clicked on the stone of the wall and splashed through the water. He took back his helmet from Varg’s grasp, swept it through the watery heart of the image of the vord Queen, and drank deeply.

Steel rasped on steel as ten thousand swords sprang free of their sheaths. The sudden, furious roar of the Canim shook the air with such force that the water of the pools danced and jumped as if under a heavy rainstorm. The watersendings could not maintain their integrity in the face of that disruption, and they collapsed, splashing back down into the pools, shaken to bits by the enraged howls of Canim and Aleran alike.