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Book: In Her Name: The First Empress: Book 01 - From Chaos Born by Michael R. Hicks
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Authors: Michael R. Hicks
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emotions from the queen’s war.
What he heard now, this piercing wail, was something else, something that set every one of his senses afire. It was a bone-chilling keening that erupted above the momentarily quiet war, voicing a depth of despair the likes of which Ayan-Dar had never known. He sought to grasp it, to seek out the poor soul to which it belonged, but it faded too quickly.
Then it was gone.
Deeply troubled, Ayan-Dar rose to his feet, his eyes peering through the darkness around him as his spirit looked far beyond.
As if in sympathy with the terrible cry he had felt in his soul, the song of the child he sought rose, so clear and pure that he instinctively turned to the southeast.
Toward the city of Keel-A’ar.
CHAPTER FOUR
“We can tarry no longer.” Kunan-Lohr stood on the balcony of the chamber in the citadel that served as the sleeping quarters for himself and Ulana-Tath, watching the sun rise over the great forests and plains to the east.
The Dark Queen had granted him a cycle of the great moon to greet his newborn child and attend to any affairs of the city, but then he and his consort were to return to the war that continued to rage ever closer to the Eastern Sea.
He felt the roar of those of his bloodline who fought the raging battles that would soon leave Syr-Nagath the undisputed ruler of T’lar-Gol. The thought had left a deep sickness in his heart.
He felt Ulana-Tath’s nude body press up against his back, her arms wrapping around his waist. Her recovery from birth had been rapid, as was the nature of their kind. Since then, they had spent every possible moment together, much of it in bed. “Why does despair fill your heart, my love?”
He covered her hands with his own, grateful for the warmth of her body against the chill morning air. It took him a moment to speak, for the words were little short of heresy. “I feel as if we have bound ourselves to one of the evil gods of old. We live for war, for that has been the Way since the First Age. But this…” He shook his head slowly. “This is something different.”
“How is it different from any other great war from the Books of Time?” Ulana-Tath rested her chin on his shoulder as she, too, watched the sun rise. “Syr-Nagath will unite T’lar-Gol for the first time in a thousand cycles, and will no doubt force a crossing of the Eastern Sea.” She paused. “Are you sure that what troubles your heart is not envy, great master of Keel-A’ar?”
With a snort, Kunan-Lohr shook his head. “I envied the old king, for he was a great warrior who followed the Way, whose path was dictated solely by honor. Syr-Nagath follows her own path, a twisted road with its mysterious roots in the Great Wastelands from whence she came. And no one can sense her spirit, to know what she feels.”
“There are many we cannot sense. Even some few of our own city, and beside whom we have fought.”
“You do not understand me, my love: no one can sense her feelings.” He turned around to face her. “I spoke, in private, to many of the other senior warriors of her army about this. Between them flow all of the bloodlines. None could feel her song in their blood. None.”
Ulana-Tath made to speak, to protest. For to do such a thing, to question the one to whom their honor was now bound, could easily lead Kunan-Lohr to be bound to the Kal'ai-Il for punishment.
He put a finger to her lips. “I know, my love. I did not do this lightly. In truth, most of those to whom I spoke approached me for counsel in the matter. Her soul is shrouded in shadow like no other, and I believe there is dark knowledge at work here. But what it is, and what we may do about it, I do not know.”
“We can only do what the Way demands of us.” She held his gaze firmly. “The path of honor is ours, and it is a path we will follow to the end of our days.” A gentle smile suddenly graced her lips. “We may do no less for our daughter.”
“Indeed.” The
What he heard now, this piercing wail, was something else, something that set every one of his senses afire. It was a bone-chilling keening that erupted above the momentarily quiet war, voicing a depth of despair the likes of which Ayan-Dar had never known. He sought to grasp it, to seek out the poor soul to which it belonged, but it faded too quickly.
Then it was gone.
Deeply troubled, Ayan-Dar rose to his feet, his eyes peering through the darkness around him as his spirit looked far beyond.
As if in sympathy with the terrible cry he had felt in his soul, the song of the child he sought rose, so clear and pure that he instinctively turned to the southeast.
Toward the city of Keel-A’ar.
CHAPTER FOUR
“We can tarry no longer.” Kunan-Lohr stood on the balcony of the chamber in the citadel that served as the sleeping quarters for himself and Ulana-Tath, watching the sun rise over the great forests and plains to the east.
The Dark Queen had granted him a cycle of the great moon to greet his newborn child and attend to any affairs of the city, but then he and his consort were to return to the war that continued to rage ever closer to the Eastern Sea.
He felt the roar of those of his bloodline who fought the raging battles that would soon leave Syr-Nagath the undisputed ruler of T’lar-Gol. The thought had left a deep sickness in his heart.
He felt Ulana-Tath’s nude body press up against his back, her arms wrapping around his waist. Her recovery from birth had been rapid, as was the nature of their kind. Since then, they had spent every possible moment together, much of it in bed. “Why does despair fill your heart, my love?”
He covered her hands with his own, grateful for the warmth of her body against the chill morning air. It took him a moment to speak, for the words were little short of heresy. “I feel as if we have bound ourselves to one of the evil gods of old. We live for war, for that has been the Way since the First Age. But this…” He shook his head slowly. “This is something different.”
“How is it different from any other great war from the Books of Time?” Ulana-Tath rested her chin on his shoulder as she, too, watched the sun rise. “Syr-Nagath will unite T’lar-Gol for the first time in a thousand cycles, and will no doubt force a crossing of the Eastern Sea.” She paused. “Are you sure that what troubles your heart is not envy, great master of Keel-A’ar?”
With a snort, Kunan-Lohr shook his head. “I envied the old king, for he was a great warrior who followed the Way, whose path was dictated solely by honor. Syr-Nagath follows her own path, a twisted road with its mysterious roots in the Great Wastelands from whence she came. And no one can sense her spirit, to know what she feels.”
“There are many we cannot sense. Even some few of our own city, and beside whom we have fought.”
“You do not understand me, my love: no one can sense her feelings.” He turned around to face her. “I spoke, in private, to many of the other senior warriors of her army about this. Between them flow all of the bloodlines. None could feel her song in their blood. None.”
Ulana-Tath made to speak, to protest. For to do such a thing, to question the one to whom their honor was now bound, could easily lead Kunan-Lohr to be bound to the Kal'ai-Il for punishment.
He put a finger to her lips. “I know, my love. I did not do this lightly. In truth, most of those to whom I spoke approached me for counsel in the matter. Her soul is shrouded in shadow like no other, and I believe there is dark knowledge at work here. But what it is, and what we may do about it, I do not know.”
“We can only do what the Way demands of us.” She held his gaze firmly. “The path of honor is ours, and it is a path we will follow to the end of our days.” A gentle smile suddenly graced her lips. “We may do no less for our daughter.”
“Indeed.” The
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