A Perverted Path to Victory

For a moment her only reply was the sound of rustling. Then her dad’s voice came through. “Sara? What’s going on? I’m in the middle of a chemistry lecture. I can’t just leave the kids on their own with-”

“Dad, get in a fucking supply closet or something right now.”

“Alright, alright! No need to use curse words with me, okay?”

Sara waited, terribly impatient, her knee bouncing constantly.

“Okay,” her dad finally said. “I’m on my own. What’s the big-”

“I’m going to describe something to you and I want you to tell me what it is and what it’s for,” Sara said, the words tumbling over themselves. “I think I know but I need you to confirm it for me, alright? This is important.”

“O-okay? Um, should I take notes, or…?”

“Just listen, okay?”

Sara began to describe the construction that was occurring on the field. What the entire assembly line was for, from the logging to the steam engines to, incredibly, a wyvern that flew in while she spoke, claws clutching a bag the size of a house that had been filled with rolls of canvas. All of the efforts were going toward one purpose, one product. Sara could see thirty of them lined up side-by-side, right where Evie had pointed them out, and there were dozens more in various stages of completion across the yard.

Sara spoke matter-of-factly. She had her Blessings screaming through her mind, Skills and magical senses running at full throttle as she found the exact right way to describe the scene before her in the fewest words possible. She used clipped, terse sentences, not even blinking as she spoke. It didn’t take long. When she finished, she heard her dad shifting around, probably adjusting his position in whatever closet he’d stuffed himself into.

“Well, honey, I think you’re probably right. Your description kind of reminds me of the ones they used on D-Day. Those gliders could carry… oh, I think ten or fifteen men in them? The ones you just described sound bigger, though. They hauled them up with a plane and then dropped them off to land behind enemy lines in big groups. A lot better than paratroopers, since you can actually choose where everyone lands and keep things better organized. Why? Did Tinvel and Chona produce another design you didn’t expect?”

“No. The Empire did. Gotta go.”

“What?”

Sara shoved her crystal back into her bag, turning around. “We’ve gotta go, Evie. This is bad.” Still crouched over, one hand on the dirt to steady her, Sara started creeping away.

“Sara?” Ketch’s harsh whisper filtered through the trees. “I think someone saw you.”

Beside her, Evie flinched.

In the instants between heartbeats, Sara’s Blessings became aware of a hand reaching for the back of her neck.

The sound that followed wasn’t like anything else Sara had ever heard. It started with an explosive BOOM, then there was a howling, furious wind, one that could have only been at home in the midst of a shrieking tornado. It was one great, overwhelming rush, air scouring over her like the mother of all trains had just gone barreling past her, battering and shaking her body like she was a leaf caught in a storm.

“Ah. I should have known it would be you.” Graf Urs said, straightening. The hand Sara had sensed retreated.

Sara stayed frozen, trying not to piss herself in fear. She’d felt it. His fingers had been on the back of her neck. Just the barest touch for the briefest moment, but they’d been there, ready to close down on her.

“You did very well to get this close, but it was foolish to linger,” Graf said, dusting his arms off. The wind was still howling, fading slowly. “Evie. I have it on good authority that you now possess a device which can create a perfect painting in an instant. If this is true, you should have used such a device instead of risking prolonged exposure to the enemy.”

Sara swallowed, turning slowly. Wherever Graf had come from, he’d started somewhere out of sight. The entire camp was in disarray. She could see tents and loose clothing floating upward, still carried by the breeze of his passing. The wyverns were raising their wings with furious roars, encircling their crews like a herd of elephants protecting their young from a prowling lion. She could see the line of his approach in the way the grass had been flattened, like a ship had just carved a wide wake through the landscape. She shivered.

“Will you be capturing us, Master Graf?” Evie asked cheerfully, delighted to see him. “I understand that you might be under contractual obligation to do so, but we both know I have access to resources and information you would value highly. I am willing to enter negotiations.”

“That won’t be necessary. Not unless you force my hand by lingering for so long that you allow my employers to lay eyes on you themselves, that is.”

“Excellent.”

Sara forced her Blessings into her arm, keeping it from trembling as she ran her fingers through her hair, straightening what the wind had tossed into disarray. That had almost been it. The end of it all. Two, nearly three years of work. Her family, her life, Tulian. All of it. Saved by a margin as thin as an old man’s fingernails.

Taking a steadying breath, she turned to face Graf properly. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, popping a hip out to one side.

“Really? They sent the geriatric after us?” She sniffed. “I thought we mattered a bit more than that.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do, Champion,” Graf dipped his head in greetings to her. “After the last few weeks of the army’s soldiers playing the role of laborers, I had grown terribly bored. I decided to take my own initiative when I heard reports of enemy spies that had broached the perimeter. They likely would have sent someone else if they knew it was you.”

“Lucky us.”

“Quite.” Evie said as she stepped up to Graf, giving the man a hug. He returned it awkwardly, still unsure of how to handle this newer, more affectionate version of Evie. He patted her back hesitantly as she spoke. “I do wish you had informed us of the rebel’s plans, but I understand that you cannot betray an employer.”

“Yeah.” Sara’s lip curled into a sneer. “Can’t imagine you acting like that. Being more loyal to a loved one than a sack of coins. Doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“It does not.” Graf stepped away from Evie, peering at Sara. He was shorter than her, but it didn’t feel like it. When he narrowed his eyes at her, she felt like he was a hundred feet tall. “I have seen a great deal of chaos wrought by mercenaries who changed allegiances for petty reasons. I hold myself to a higher standard.”

“Not high enough to pick a better gig,” Sara shot back. She knew she was letting too much of her anger seep through, but she couldn’t help it. She was still hiding her trembling. “You’re training these soldiers to fight against Tulian, the nation that your own damn daughter is trying to keep alive. You really keep yourself to such a high standard.”

By the slightest degree, Graf’s head tilted. “You insist on calling her that. My daughter. She is not.”

“Bullshit.”

“Dear,” Evie cautioned, glancing anxiously between the two of them.

“You may not have fucked her mom, but she spent two decades with you as the only person in the world she looked up to. You’ve got a responsibility to her.”

“I do.” Graf met Sara’s piercing glare evenly, unafraid of her in a way that very few had ever managed. “She is a favored student. I have given her the gift of training, have continued to advise her, and have gone so far as to make my continued employment with the Empire dependent on her survival. That is far more than any other would have done. You can accuse me of a great many things, Sara Brown, but I am not a man who shirks my responsibilities.”

Sara’s eyes jerked away from Graf, landing on the gliders sitting in the evening sun. Those gliders would be turned against her soon. Used to wage war against Tulian in a way that they’d never planned for. She grit her teeth.

“You’re a coward.” She met his eyes again. “You’re powerful enough to end this. To stop the Empire’s war, to stop your King from invading us. You don’t.”

“A coward? Perhaps.” Graf stepped forward, leaving Evie behind as he squared his shoulders to Sara. “I am afraid of a great many things, Champion. Things you can’t fathom. You have no idea what it would look like if I went to war. Not an inkling of it.”

“Try me.” Sara spat to the side. “The weapons of my world were horrifying. Our wars made these look like slap fights. There’s nothing-”

“The bombs?” Graf interjected. “The ones that destroy cities, poisoning the soil forevermore and such?” He scowled at her. “You forget who I am, girl. I have ordered the world’s scholars to my side so that they might provide me every resource there is to be found regarding your home. I understand far more than you would believe.”

“Yeah, the bombs. Those weapons could have killed everyone, everywhere,” Sara snapped. “You think I don’t know what it would look like if you went to war? Fuck off, Graf. We had weapons that could have destroyed the world.”

“Just one?”

“What?”

“Just one world?” Graf all but snarled at her. “Is that what you were so horrified of? If so, I’d mind your tongue, girl. This is not your godless homeland. I have walked across the planes of reality. I have seen things that swallowed stars, and I have buried my sword in their heart and carved until they stopped screaming.” Graf stepped forward again, close enough for Sara to smell his breath. “Do not insult me. Do not say I am abandoning my duty. I respect you, find your goals admirable, but you understand nothing of what you ask of me. You want me to go to war? Ha!” His laugh was cold and bitter. “I am proof that the gods can fail. You may be their Champion, but I am their mistake. I will not let my existence wound this world worse than it already has, Sara Brown. Not again.”

Sara stared into his eyes. Black pupils set in a sallow, wrinkled face. What lay behind them wasn’t unique. He was just a man. He had fears, hopes, dreams, and the sense of love and hate that everyone else did. That was the most terrifying thing of all, Sara decided. That something so powerful was guided by nothing more than an old man’s mind.

“Fine,” Sara grunted, stepping away. “Don’t help us. Keep chasing coin like it’ll matter when you’re dead.” She reached into her pouch. “But if you ever end up interested in actually doing something fuckin’ worthwhile with your time, take this.”

She flicked a rosy quartz crystal at him. His arm twitched up to catch it, fingers twisting it over as he eyed it.

“A speaking crystal?”

“Yeah. Connected to Tulian’s communication network. Congratulations, Graf. Now you’ve got access to just about every secret my people have. Since you’re the only goddamn person in the world with spies that I haven’t been able to root out, I figured it wouldn’t matter.”

The crystal buzzed in Graf’s withered fingers. A bit of chatter went back and forth between two crystal jockeys, their respective ministers arguing about allocation of still-scarce steel. Sara let him inspect it, waiting.

“What purpose does this serve?” He slipped the crystal into a pocket. “I did not know all your secrets, as I’m sure you’re aware. And I owe you no loyalty.”

“And I don’t trust your old ass one bit,” Sara snapped back. Then she took a deep breath, calming herself. “But Evie does, and I trust her more than I trust myself. So I want her to have a way to talk to you if she needs to. That’s what it’s for. And trust me,” Sara added with a snort, “if I’d had a pair of crystals on me that weren’t hooked into our communication network, that’s what I would’ve been giving you.”

Graf peered at Sara, head cocked. After a moment, he chuckled, shaking his head just a touch.

“You know, you’re one of the only military commanders I’ve ever met who has managed to surprise me more than once. Thus far you’ve done so only by making mistakes where I expected you to succeed, yet…” He shrugged. “I am still surprised. That is rare enough to be worth noting.”

“I’m flattered. Now go talk to Evie about whatever the fuck you’ve got going on. I’m going to go take a piss.”

Sara stomped off into the jungle, leaving them alone. She knew she wouldn’t have stopped sniping at him if she’d stayed for longer. Evie deserved some time alone with him, without her around to ruin it.

Once she was far enough away that her Blessings told her Graf couldn’t detect her, Sara dropped into a crouch, breathing hard. She released her hold on her Blessings, allowing her heart to start thudding as fast as it had wanted to through the entire exchange. Her breaths came out in shallow, shaky gasps, and a cold sweat broke out across her forehead.

Fucking hell. I can’t convince him. I really, really can’t.

She’d tried. She’d had her Blessings on full blast through the whole conversation, but they’d found no opening. She wanted him on her side. She’d thought there’d be something, anything that she could exploit, but Graf Urs had an ironclad will. His mind had been set in stone before Sara’s dad had been born, and the life he’d lived in the following decades had only etched the marks deeper.

Graf Urs didn’t think a better world was possible. No, he knew a better world was impossible. He was as certain of that as anyone could be. Sixty years fighting war after war, ending them all as fast as he could, and what had come of it? He’d never managed to stop a single conflict from brewing over. No matter how many he killed, no matter how merciful or how brutal he was, old hatreds always festered on. So long as he left two souls breathing, he’d never managed to create a long-lasting peace. Alliances became the tool of new offensives, devastated populations became grassroots rebels, and wise monarchs were, in time, replaced by rulers too weak to preserve what their progenitors had built.

Graf Urs believed that war was the natural state of man. He didn’t think laws, commandments, or governments could change that. Not even with a Champion’s backing. He had given up on the future. He had one goal in his life: end the war he was in quickly enough that he could move to the next. For all his power, that was the only mercy he thought he could offer. A single, brutal blow, snapping the spine of a conflict before it could grow further. However short the resulting peace may be, it was still a mercy. The only mercy there could be.

Drops of sweat burned Sara’s eyes. She wiped her face down with both hands, then stood, working to master her breath without the aid of her Blessings. Graf was terrifying, but she was still the Champion of Amarat. He knew she was afraid, but she’d be damned if she was going to let him see it.

“...would have been helpful if you had warned us,” Evie was saying as Sara returned. “The enemy’s development of aircraft changes everything. Tulian needed to know this weeks ago.”

“I believed you were plenty capable of discovering their plans on your own,” Graf responded. “And, as your arrival here has demonstrated, I was correct.”

“An earlier warning would still have been invaluable.”

Sara couldn’t decide whether to smile or scowl when she caught sight of the pair again. Graf was standing there without a care in the world, arms folded behind his back as he chatted amicably with Evie, perfectly content to ignore the chaos his passage had left in the camp behind him. He couldn’t have cared less about Sara and Evie’s frustration, appearing utterly content with the fact that he’d hidden a pending disaster from them.

Evie, meanwhile, was… happy. She had a light, thoughtless smile on her face, her body drained of tension in a way that Sara so very rarely got the privilege to see. It was like she spent her entire life as a child terrified of a howling storm, only to now be swept up in her favorite blanket and given a glass of warm milk. She was content. Unconcerned. When she was with Graf, she knew she was safe. There was nothing to worry about, no source of stress, and, because she thought so highly of him and his advice, she wasn’t even worried that there was something more productive to do with her time. So far as Evie was concerned, she was exactly where she needed to be.

“How long until this army is ready to launch the gliders?” Sara asked, clanking back up to the little conversation. “What can you tell us? How many of those gliders can each wyvern pull? Can a griffon get one into the air? How many soldiers can each hold? They’re probably enchanting them with magecraft-type crap, right?”

Graf glanced at her. “Why, exactly, do you think I would answer those questions?”

“Because you know I’m a more valuable ally than the Empire.” Sara rested her shoulder against a tree, nodding at the gliders. “Those are going to be brutal to deal with, but we will deal with them. Fuck if I know how, but we will, and when the smoke’s cleared, I’ll be the better friend to have.”

“An interesting idea, but one that presupposes I need any alliances at all.”

“You’re not going to live forever. If you want to set the Night’s Eye up for success after you’re gone, making friends with me is a damn good bet.”

“Perhaps. Yet I still will not betray my employer’s trust.” Graf looked to Evie, a sparkle in his eyes. “Your wife has quite the array of questions. How will you find the answers she seeks?”

“In the traditional manner, I suppose. Spies, bribery, and reconnaissance.” Evie’s tail curled playfully. “I will begin with bribery: do you have a price for the information she seeks?”

Graf smiled kindly. “A valiant attempt, but no, I do not.”

“And the other members of the Night’s Eye? I know you are not the only one present in the Empire. Are they corruptible?”

The sparkle in Graf’s eye grew brighter. “Normally I would say they are not. But you are not just any woman. I wonder how you might get into contact with them?”

“I wonder?” Evie pulled her notebook out, hastily scribbling something. She tore the paper and handed the folded page to Graf. “Would you mind delivering this to Darin? I do hope he has been taking care of Cormus’s coat.”

“He has cut the dog’s fur down some, yes,” Graf said, accepting the note without glancing at its contents. “The poor thing still hates the heat, I’m afraid, though Darin recently acquired a cooling crystal to chill the animal’s water.”

“At least he’s trying something. Darin was never the smarter of the pair.”

“I think Cormus would agree with you.” Graf turned to glance back at the rebel camp. A number of armored soldiers were approaching, including several Krapeu-riding Warriors, their crocodilian steeds slobbering beneath the iron bands keeping their jaws clamped shut. “Unfortunately, it seems we are running out of time. Your enemies will soon reach us. I assume you are capable of disappearing into the jungle?”

“We are, yes. Will you report that it was us who personally breached the perimeter?”

Graf turned his head upward, considering, then shook his head.

“No. I suppose I’ll tell them that the reports were mistaken.” He glanced at Sara, smirking. “It would seem that their pickets mistook a black-furred ape for an armored soldier. An easy enough mistake to make at a distance. Perhaps even from up close.”

Despite herself, Sara snorted. “Oh, nice. You’re such a flatterer.”

“You strike me as the type who has long since grown tired of other’s deference and wheedling ‘respect.’ I’m intimately acquainted with the feeling, I assure you.”

“If it really pisses you off that much, I can’t imagine why you ended up serving a King. Brown-nosing each other is all the nobility ever does.”

“It is exhausting, yes, but it can be amusing to see them realize that no amount of false praise will earn their brats the right to my tutelage.” Graf stretched out his arm, rolling his wrist in a way that had it rippling with painful-sounding pops. He nodded to Sara, then clapped his hand on Evie’s shoulder. “Farewell, Champion, and goodbye, Evie. I look forward to seeing how you deal with this brewing threat.”

“Violently, I expect,” Evie deadpanned, as if it was the most elegant of strategies. Then she frowned. “If our forces come to blows, the Night’s Eye will not personally fight against Tulian’s mercenaries, correct?”

“We will flee the battlefield entirely, as a matter of fact. I told the Adjutant that I will not again fight a Champion’s army, and I meant it.” He tossed a look over his shoulder. The rebels were close. He sighed. “But now you must go. Have a pleasant evening, Evie. I’m sure we’ll speak again soon.”

“I look forward to it.”

“As do I.”

Graf stepped away, emerging from the tree line. Several of the rebels pointed his way with a shout, causing the entire group to pivot toward him.

Without another word, Sara retreated into the forest, clanking away. She cast her senses out for Ketch but, predictably, found nothing.

Evie filed in behind her, close enough to whisper.

“You shouldn’t have spoken to him in such a way, dear. You’re letting your anger get the better of you.”

Sara resisted the urge to spit.

“I meant it when I called him a coward,” she hissed. “He needs to pick a goddamn side already. He can’t keep playing these games forever. You’ve seen the reports yourself, Evie. Sporatos is coming with everything the kingdom has. The King’s Army’s almost ready to march. Seventy thousand commoners, nearly ten thousand knights, and over a thousand combat mages. You really think the King won’t call up the Night’s Eye?”

“You know as well as I that Graf’s forces are expected to garrison the kingdom’s borders in the nobility’s absence. They are the only group with enough powerful individuals to do so.”

“What about the shitshow here, then?” Sara ducked under a thorny branch, resisting the urge to start taking her anger out on the local foliage. “Fucking gliders, Evie. Steam-powered machinery and a hundred thousand Imperials working on a fleet of invasion aircraft. This is a disaster. And Graf just wants to keep toeing the goddamn line?”

“Perhaps he has faith in your ability to win regardless of the obstacle.”

“So what?” Sara growled. “So what if I can fucking win or lose? Even if we lose, you’ve made damn sure that our family is going to make it through the war alive one way or another. I’m not worried about that. It’s about how many innocent people are going to die for that goal. How many people I’m going to have to slaughter, how many of my own troops are going to go to their deaths on my orders. Graf could stop that.”

“Not without consequences.” She spoke in a low, intense tone, as if lecturing a child who’d done something deeply wrong. “Master Graf’s personal involvement in a war will provoke a response that we are not prepared for. Say that you convince him to join our cause. What then?” Evie waited. When Sara didn’t respond, she continued. “When we first met Garen, he asked you not to learn of what lay in his past. You have respected that. But I know the story, and it terrifies me. When Archmages come to blows, reality itself struggles to contain their might. I assure you, Master Graf taking to the field of battle would be something that even the ancient mages of Sporatos could not ignore. There would be a fight unlike any other. Would Master Graf win? Almost certainly. But their battlefield will be Tulian, and the people will suffer horribly for it.”

Sara wanted to say more. She wanted to talk about all the other things he could do. She wanted to rant about his strategic genius, his potential to lead Tulian’s armies and the incredible might that the Night’s Eye mercenaries represented. Graf didn’t have to slaughter the entire Kingdom of Sporatos with his bare hands to win the war for them. There were so many steps between his current state and the one-man nuclear holocaust he seemed to fear his involvement would create.

But she didn’t say that. Not because Evie was right, but because she was wrong. Sara knew she could convince her wife of that. She could convince Evie that Graf was flawed. That he was making a mistake. That he wasn’t the perfect, flawless, honorable general that Evie thought he was.

Sara remembered her smile. That relaxed, happy posture, and the way she’d hugged him when he appeared.

Sara couldn’t do that to her. Even if Evie’s criticism had the potential to be the straw that broke Graf’s back, that might force his resolve to waver enough that he switched sides. Convincing Evie of his fallibility could save thousands of lives. But Sara just… couldn’t.

“You’re right,” she lied. “I fucking hate it, but you’re right. We’ll have to figure something out.”

“Thank you,” Evie said, sighing.

“We need reinforcements, for starters.” Sara stopped, looking around for Ketch. Then she rolled her eyes at herself for being so stupid, instead turning to focus on Evie while she waited for their jungle guide to re-appear. “The Blackpowder Army is going to have to spend a week marching itself half to death to reach this place, and it’s going to be one hell of a battle when they get here.”

“The rebels have clearly determined that the jungle perimeter is the war’s new frontline,” Evie agreed. “Even if we arrived in time to stop their project’s completion, they have wyverns enough to drown our forces in flame.”

“Reinforcements,” Sara said again. “A whole hell of a lot of them. We’re going to need to convince the Adjutant, the generals, the mages, hell, probably the Imperial wyverns themselves, too.”

“How?”

Bile rose in Sara’s throat.

“How else can you get anything done in this shithole of an Empire?” She hocked up a loogie, spitting it onto a broad leaf. “Wearing fancy clothes and getting drunk around the right people.”

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