Council is counting on your full cooperation, stonecutter. As is the city of Baseld and indeed the nation.”
“Of course, of course, but…what army?” I asked, trying to catch up. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
The temblor held up a hand to encourage patience. Her Jereh band was bronze, I saw, not gold. “I’ll brief you in a moment.” She turned to the courier. “You can inform the Triune Council that the stonecutter is engaged.”
“Yes, I am,” I said.
“Blessings of the Triple Goddess on you both,” she said, and departed so swiftly that our hair blew in the wind of her passing.
Temblor Priyit offered up a smirk to me. She was a Nentian immigrant who’d been blessed by the Triple Goddess when she sought a kenning—one of many who came to Rael, since the Nentians didn’t have their own kenning and the Fornish didn’t let outsiders be Seekers at the First Tree. “What did you have planned for today? Bringing up some nice marble for a new sculpture?”
“Miners sent over a shipment of raw gold-flecked quartz from the Lochlaen quarry. I was going to shape them into translucent tiles for the interior of a dome.”
“Ha! Well, never mind that. You get to save the country instead. Come with me to the garrison.”
And it was during that walk to the garrison that I learned that much of Brynlön had been overrun by a people being called the Bone Giants and that the army headed our way had depopulated almost all the Brynt river cities.
“Almost all?”
“The quartermaster of Fornyd had the good sense to evacuate her people in advance. She warned the quartermasters of Sturföd and Grynek, but they were either unconvinced by the warning or unable to convince their populace of the danger. The Bone Giants move fast.”
“How fast?”
“They’re already in the tunnel.”
“Shit!”
“If it weren’t for our couriers, we’d be taken by surprise, too. And we lost Bennelin because of their surprise attack from the sea.”
“Shit! Bennelin lost? As in captured or…?”
“As in wiped out. Everyone dead. The juggernaut at Fandlin took out the invaders after the fact, but no one could save Bennelin.”
“Goddesses, no.” Gaerit was from there originally, which meant that his family would be gone. We’d been planning on visiting them after we got married; I’d always wanted to see the Brynt Sea anyway, but now I supposed that dream had been snuffed like a lonely candle.
“How is this possible? Why haven’t we heard about this yet?”
“Because the city bard hasn’t been told. She’s being told right now, though. That’s where the courier went after she left us. The Triune has been employing the couriers for a lot of scouting missions and essential military operations, and spreading news wasn’t their priority. But no doubt we’ll hear the bard’s voice soon enough. I understand the Brynts lost several other cities as well.”
I walked along with the temblor, stunned, trying to process it all, and I simply couldn’t. Instead, I noticed that although the temblor had adopted Rael’s customs and fought for us now, she hadn’t entirely given up on her own culture’s fascination for boots. I marveled at first that I could think of anything besides the tragedy of all those lives lost, but then realized that I was desperate to think of anything else, even something as insignificant as fabulous footwear. I remember the bard at the Colaiste remarking on our tendency to do that: “Small material things can be a shelter from an emotional storm,” she said, “but if you hide away in them, you’ll be hiding from life. Sometimes you have to face that bad weather. It will catch you out eventually.”
Here I was, caught out and still trying to hide.
As we entered the stone walls surrounding the garrison, the rich voice of the city bard entered our ears, floating above the city, declaring that she had dire news and emergency instructions from the Triune Council. The tunnel must begin to evacuate immediately because of the approach of an invading army of many thousands. All soldiers were to report to the garrison. And then the details: Bennelin, lost. All but four Brynt cities, lost. No reason for the attack and no hope of negotiation. The Bone Giants appeared to have no kenning but won through surprise attacks in large numbers. And I could see heads shaking, no one wanting to believe it was true, but bards don’t spread falsehoods when they speak to cities; they can lose their kenning that way, as the Lying Bard