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CoJ: Chapters 42 & 43

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[size=150]Chapter 42: Results[/size]

___With his long legs, going downhill, Seifas easily outran the others as they returned to the Tower. He paused at the door, watching behind them, waiting for them to catch up.
___The door popped opened behind him: “Hi!”
___Seifas twitched in startlement; then he decided that Jian must have seen them approaching from one of the windows—or maybe he’d heard the feet of the others. Othon’s armor was certainly clanking loudly enough at least…!
___“A large brigade is approaching from the west,” Seifas said; Jian had to jump aside as the squad rushed past him into the Tower.
___“Ah!—good! It’s larger than ours, and there are two more marching in from the north and the east!”
___Seifas followed him up three stairs before this thoroughly penetrated.
___“Hold, wait,” muttered the juacuar. “What?!”
___“More brigades?” Dagon’s bushy eyebrows climbed to his hairline.
___“Good?” Othon blurted.
___“Oh, no I don’t mean that it’s good there are more brigades,” clarified Jian, sort of. “I mean that it’s good that we’ve got some verification for Portunista! Wait till she hears!” And he dashed upstairs, like a boy on Stilleve morning.
___A minute later, they reached the uppermost room.
___“Whew!” Pooralay squinted at the ceiling. “So this’s what y’were doin’ in here all mornin’. My ‘pologies; thought y’were messin’ aroun’ with somethin’ else…” he grinned.
___Jian opened his mouth, but Portunista trod on his foot. Just in case.
___“Now I know what I had been sensing beneath the Tower,” she announced, overriding whatever Jian had been going to say instead—an “Ow!” escaped amusedly from his mouth. “That was a web-like feeling, and I didn’t know what it did. But obviously, it detects and positions intruders wherever they are in the valley.”
___Jian furrowed his face in thought as he gingerly rubbed his foot on his calf. “Did you say that the feeling extended out past the dell?”
___Portunista turned to reply…but nothing came out of her mouth.
___“The reason I’m asking,” he mused, “is because I sort of remember you telling us something about it not extending past the dell; which the map’s detection certainly does…”
___The maga sighed.
___“You did discover how to work the map,” Jian hurriedly offered. “That was nifty! Um…Seifas,” he continued, ignoring Portunista’s sullen look, “I’m a little confused about how you could verify the western brigade. It’s just now crossing the ridgeline, and that’s…mmm…about ten klips?”
___The juacuar considered the question irrelevant at first; but, he happened to see Jian’s eyes flick back in Portunista’s direction. Then he understood.
___The fair man had only meant to help their commander, not undermine her; now he was trying to cover her embarrassment.
___Seifas could sympathize. Besides, on further thought, it was a pertinent question. The distance and time didn’t seem to add up; and a prudent commander would want to know why.
___“We found where the sod had been cut, about a thousand paces into the forest: just as our commander had reasoned.” Portunista perked at hearing this; and Jian gave Seifas a tiny grateful nod. “I ordered the squad to wait in ambush, while I ran ahead. I reached the ridge, and saw the leading elements coming uphill through a sizable meadow. Far too many for us to fight directly.”
___“An’ some’v’us ain’t really so good at gettin’ ready to ambush anyway,” muttered Poo. Othon traded shrugs with Dagon.
___Seifas pointed to the northern group: “These are very likely demimen. Only the Middlelands lie in that direction, and there is even less advantage to entering over those mountains than from the west or east.”
___“Unless y’spend so much’f y’r time in marchin’ up an’ down mountains, that one or two more don’t make any diff’rence,” Pooralay agreed.
___“This gets better and better,” Dagon mumbled. “I’d rather fight off those other two brigades than mess with a horde that size.”
___“Allies?” Othon asked.
___Portunista shrugged. “Would demimen make alliance with a human brigade? Besides, the western brigade must know that Qarfax is missing: so why would forces cooperating with them even bother to try sneaking into the area from an unexpected direction?”
___“To secure their perimeter, outside in?” Dagon speculated. “Still’d be faster than marching them all to the southern pass, then back to perimeter camps. Anyway, it’s hardly likely they’re coming to trap and dispose of us,” he wryly added.
___“I guess we’ll see.” Seifas flicked his glance to Jian, who was carefully contemplating the layout. What sort of tone had he heard…?
___“The scouts over there on the eastern rim, bother me most, I guess,” continued Jian. Two orange dots rested in the treeline. “I wonder how long they’ve been there. Still, it might be a reasonable way to initiate contact with the eastern force,” the fair man suggested, as he lay down on the floor, setting a pillow beneath his head. “Send someone out as if he’s going back to camp, like Gaekwar, then loop him around behind those guys, and start a conversation.” He nodded to himself, then noticed the others were staring at him. “Um…well, my neck was starting to get a crick, so I thought that this would help,” he shrugged. At least he hadn’t jumped back on the bed itself, Portunista groused… “Hey, I’ll go if you want!” Jian offered. “I’m not all that sure I can sneak around behind them, though…besides, that hardly would tell them we’re friendly. Would they shoot, do you think, if I walked up to them directly instead? They’ll already know that we know that they know that we’re here, and so that we know that they’re there—right?”
___Portunista decided that sending Jian as an emissary would be the very last thing she’d consider—though Dagon was saying, “Good idea!” with a falsely cheerful demeanor…
___“Let them stay,” she said. “At this point, scouts are hardly worth bothering with.”
___“Unless they interfere with reinforcements,” Dagon retorted. “Commander,” the arrogant man infused the word with sarcasm, “I’m gonna go, to bring back an archery squad, for garrisoning the Tower windows. I’d better be leaving right now, in fact…with your permission,” he added, in a tone that dared her to disagree.
___“Fine,” she tensely replied. “I think that’s a fine idea. Have them bring a cart of supplies, in case we’re holed up here for several days. And bring a reinforced infantry squad as well.” Portunista flicked her hand in his direction, dismissing him.
___After he left there was silence, as they returned to the map.
___Three larger brigades didn’t allow many options to talk about.

___“Well!” Jian hopped up and stood. “Does anyone have any plan of how to survive a fight in here?”
___“Run,” Othon said.
___Jian digested this recommendation, absently nodding; then: “That’s a good plan!” he brightly agreed. “I’d better go make us some lunch, I guess!”
___And, he did.

[size=150]Chapter 43: Glimpses Of Twisting[/size]

___“Where are my scouts?” the thin man mildly asked.
___“Most certainly scouting,” one of the eight hulking men who followed nearby respectfully answered, “as you have wisely decreed.”
___“Are they to scout and not return?”
___The nervous lieutenant scratched one of his numerous scars, not daring at first to reply to this mildly rhetorical question. “Shall I slay them when they return, for being late?” he offered.
___“Perhaps,” interjected a second brute, “they are already slain.”
___“Have all my scouts been slain?” the thin man asked.
___The second soldier, Rester, shrugged; it wasn’t his concern. The officer known as Harvester twitched, however. All the scouts? He’d sent only two, ahead of the march, to ensure their readied quitchgrass still was fresh. He hadn’t thought to send more than two; not the eight he had sent before, to make the Tower ready for the coming of his lord. Why would there need to be more?
___“Perhaps opponents surround us, Misire,” suggested the third lieutenant. He wasn’t worried. He put much faith in his sword.
___And more: he knew the thin man’s secret. All eight hanikim did; and so they addressed the leader of one brigade by the title reserved for kings—and those above kings.
___But this was just the beginning.
___“Perhaps,” agreed the mildish man, and stopped in place, gently turning a beatific gaze upon his advancing people. Whoever was nearby, whatever they were doing, paused every minute or so to genuflect to him.
___They knew what cost would be extracted from them, if ever they failed to do so.
___“Ender.” The mild man raised a hand. “Stop the Devouring Army here. Harvester, we shall send more scouts in all directions.” He paused, and breathed in satisfaction, while Ender roared the new commands.
___Harvester, meanwhile, twitched again. More scouts in all directions…should he have done that already?
___“Misire, I beg the blessing of your attention, please.” He knelt on the forest floor, his head chest-high to the scrawny velveted figure.
___“Speak.” A calm and distant smile.
___“Misire, I’ve learned in the last few minutes, the soldiers I earlier ordered to scout for our flanks have been lazy and craven. Please, allow me to slay them for you, and find new scouts whom you can trust.”
___“It is well, my loyal servant. Slay the treacherous failures, and raise new scouts to take their place. For the all teeming multitudes are mine—surely my army’s increase never shall end.”
___That, Harvester thought, was true enough: the brigade had absorbed every village that it had encountered so far.
___As criers relayed Ender’s roars, the brigade now trudged to a halt. “I beg to leave, Misire,” Harvester said. The robed man flicked his hand, dismissing his lieutenant, who hurried away.
___“Enemies all around,” the magus mused. “Is this the first of blows from above? Or has a rival found his way before me?
___“If I turn in that direction,” he continued, “I see BLOOD AND DEATH AND CLAWS AND DEFEAT AND VICTORY!!” he screeched; his eyelids sank into his skull. Harvester winced again—and ducked behind a wagon as soon as possible, just to be sure he wouldn’t be summoned back.
___“Someone is there,” the magus panted—his seven other hanikim, hearing The Voice, knelt behind him. “Someone is taking what I want, and there are enemies all around—too soon, too soon, I am not ready, blood must boil…!” One surviving baby began to cry nearby. His mother hastily smothered him.
___Better to smother, than to be heard by the Mad One.
___“He Who Fills The Cavicorn approaches; and the minions of the Lord of Slaughter; and…and…”
___The subcommander known as Biter, dared to look upon his lord.
___Biter considered himself a servant and master of terror.
___What he saw now, however, filled even his heart with fear.
___He saw terror, on the face of Praxiteles.
___“The Doom of Bricks…!” the magus frothed. “Ahg! Can’t see, I don’t want to look! It isn’t possible—it isn’t fair! He can’t be here! Loss, loss…” the magus mumbled. Then, “NO! The War continues! We shall conquer, we have foreseen it! All shall be ours! We are strong and eat the Truth, and having expelled it, we make new truths! We can win…we can win…every Culling proves it…it is only a matter of time…Do I want to go there?” the magus asked, in his first voice. “We don’t want to go,” the second voice insisted. “But yes, WE DO! The secrets are there, that guarantee victory; we are the first, so we shall have them first, they spit on us, but we are the first!”
___The magus danced a jig, pumping his fists in the air. No one laughed. They waited as sheep in pens.
___“We are the first…but we are not the first, someone is before us…someone…we forget who…but Gamin is first…” the magus rasped a reptilian hiss. “He knows, I know. Gamin was braver. Gamin was first! Now we have the advantage, and we shall NOT let go!” His long and ragged fingernails dug his palm; blood dripped. “The Lord of Slaughter isn’t first,” he mocked; “for he fears! I do not fear him. I do not fear his minions. Yes, I am the worst, for I am the first, and so I do not fear!” He laughed. No one else laughed. “I, I, I am the worst…! The first and the worst…I wasn’t the first, but now I am…I AM THE WORST, DO YOU HEAR? DO YOU FEAR??” he shrieked toward the unseen Tower.
___Silence followed.
___“I do not fear…”
___Biter thought that Praxiteles—or, rather, Gamin—wasn’t convincing himself of this very well. But, he kept his opinion to himself. Biter needed no convincing, to be afraid of Gamin.
___“It isn’t worth my time or effort, no…this is a…an opportunity. Yes! Opportunity waits at the Tower of Qarfax. Not worth my time or effort to fight, but worth someone else’s…He Who Fills The Cavicorn shall fight, sweeping away what isn’t worth my time…I want to see her!” the voice of Praxiteles clearly announced. “Nfff…” he shook his head, like a dog with a flea in his skull. “No, I am not going there…I am going…going…”
___The eyelids of the magus relaxed, half-closing sedately again.
___Gone, Biter thought, carefully bowing his head.
___“Biter, you shall remain, overseeing our encampment,” Praxiteles pronounced, with the air of a man standing bored in an art exhibit. “Swelter, you shall stay as well. Flooder, Stinger, Thunder,” he addressed the three most physically daunting men, “follow me. I am going around the Tower.”
___Better you than me, Biter thought to his peers.
___Rester stood and sweated, as the others moved away. He had not been mentioned! Was he supposed to stay? Or leave?
___Choices were dangerous things to make, in the Devouring Army.

Next chapter

Notes from the real author…

We won’t be seeing Praxi-Gamin again until after the actual halfway point of the book, coming up soon (and thus not to be posted as part of this First Half Project), although he and Artabanus and the other chief antagonist for the book will be getting together soon after that point to introduce themselves to each other (and posture and plot and threaten and find reasons to not start killing each other off yet. Villain management is often tricky. :wink: )

“Praxiteles” is a realworld name of a historical Greek sculptor, who as far as I’ve ever heard wasn’t partially possessed by a demon. So why use his name? (Apologies to the real Praxiteles!) This goes far back to my original version of the climactic fight scene of Section One: originally I had Portunista attack the enemy shoulderbeast by magically warping and manipulating the wicker of the baskets. Even at the time this seemed rather an advanced technique for someone who hadn’t even graduated from apprentice training–afterward I made a point to keep the jottings from her and Artabanus (and Gemalfan) simple if cleverly used. So I explained it as something she had been taught by a traveling magical sculptor. Why would he teach her that? Because she, um, convinced him to. Persuasively. :wink:

That was going to have been Praxiteles.

At the time I wrote this chapter that was all still in effect, but by the time they actually meet in the book I had decided I didn’t like that plotline–it’s more dramatically interesting (under the eventual circumstances) if he has heard of her at secondhand but she’s having to learn about him from scratch. Also, by then I had worked out what magi do and how they do it in a lot more detail, and the wicker manipulation seemed VERY much more like something a Mikonese cleric would be able to do by contrast. So I made the appropriate alterations, but kept Praxi’s name because it sounds cool. :slight_smile:

“Gamin” is also a realworld name, an archaic term for “scamp”, although I don’t recall the linguistic derivation offhand. But it’s reflected in his consuming worry that he’s just not strong enough to be making a move like this; also in his inability to authoritatively override Praxi’s personality and will, leaving them both rather more insane than they might have otherwise been. Most (but not all) of my demons are quite personalistic–some are even charmingly personable! Gamin represents the messier more chaotic type of demonic oppressor in literature; most subsequent demons in the story will have more competency and more sanity than he does. Gamin has gone about as far as he can go, due to his destructive abuse of those who follow him; but then, he only considers them expendable distractions (and entertainment meanwhile) in order to get what he’s really after at the Tower.

If Artabanus is lawful evil, Praxi-Gamin is chaotic evil and reflects another direction Portunista is in danger of falling. The third antagonist, the renegade juacuar Bomas (whom we won’t meet any further in the first half of the book) would round out the classic role-playing categorization by being ‘neutral evil’: he isn’t enough of a leader and commander to be specially in favor of the application of law, but he does appreciate positive discipline and moderation and isn’t someone who indulges his whims at every opportunity. By his plans, he would be leaning toward developing into a lawful character however.

Praxi-Gamin introduces two important concepts in the novels: the idea of a spirit junctioning with another spirit for shared operation of a body, and dark prophecy. I decided from the moment of his introduction that it would be a lot more interesting (and even fun) for most prophecy to come through Rogue Agents–and for all actual prophecy from them to be true! I have metaphysical rationales and methods for that, which I won’t go into here; but from a reader’s perspective (as well as from my perspective of designing the plot) the question is how much of what sounds like prophecy actually is prophecy; how much are inferences (correct or incorrect) from (possibly incomplete) prophetic data; and how much is only wishful thinking. Praxi’s lieutenants, the hanikim (which just means “large bodyguard”–they’re human), and even Praxiteles himself, will start learning over time that Gamin’s interpretation of what he foresees isn’t always competent.

Back to Portunista & Company, much of CoJ’s plot from this point forward (whether for her or for her opponents) is based on acquiring and processing information about the opposition in order to oppose them effectively on offense or defense. Praxi relies a lot on Gamin’s foresight, which is thus a variation of the principle; but the other three sides (including the Ungulata) have to get information in other ways and try to suss out what the info means as a matter of practical survival. Qarfax’s ceiling map is an important resource for Portunista in getting information about her opponents–but she’s quickly learning it has limits. How best to put that map to use will be a main plot factor for the rest of the book.