Boring Brother

  Kedi stepped out into the yard. Preparations were well underway, the work in full swing under the direction of Wigri, his father's old weaponmaster. The armorers were assembling siege shields — large wooden slabs studded with iron, meant to be carried by several men. The old dwarf looked excited as he commanded the effort. Perhaps he missed this kind of teamwork, so common in the stone cities of his kin.

  Kedi spotted his brother emerging from the aviary, and they met halfway by the training grounds. Ixi flitted behind Kemi, hovering at eye level, but he sent her off with a simple nod. The fairy zipped upward, vanishing behind the stables.

  "I see you've gotten used to working with her," Kedi said.

  "She struggles to speak, but she's very helpful," Kemi replied. "Did you know she can see in the dark?"

  "No, I don't think so. Perhaps Negli mentioned it, but I forgot."

  "Still no word from him?"

  "None. They'll keep him confined until the Conference, that much is clear."

  "For what purpose?"

  "Not sure — something political. His brother is quite frustrated, and he's far more politically savvy than I am. I offered our support in principle, but he asked me to stay out of it. What are your scouts saying?"

  "Just as I predicted — reconnaissance, probing, rallying militia. Have you made your decision?"

  Kedi remained silent, watching Wigri grumble and snatch a hammer from his apprentice to show how it should be done. Kemi's plan for war was simple and terrifying.

  "Should we call another council before the final decision?" he asked.

  Kemi shrugged. "If you want. But what kind of council do you expect? You know my opinion. The captains agree. Will you ask your wife? She doesn't know this kind of thing — it's not her place to decide. She'll support your decision regardless. Asking her for advice is stupid. It's your call. We all know it."

  There was a note of disdain in his voice, and it annoyed Kedi.

  "This isn't one of your skirmishes, Kemi. It's a great risk for all of us."

  Kemi didn't answer. He had already made his point in the morning council, laying out their choices. One path was reckless, the other unrewarding. Containment promised only exhaustion and eventual downfall. Even if Tezir backed down, their inability to uphold the treaty would ruin House Vemer's reputation. And yet, part of Kedi longed for a peaceful solution.

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  "You know," Kemi said eventually, "everyone thinks I'm a brute. But I always tried to be like you. I wanted to outdo you, outbrave you. Then Father died, and you became the head of the House — measured, cautious, boring. I get it — you want to act responsibly, be temperate, all in the family's interests. But sometimes, hesitation is riskier than recklessness. Ask yourself: are you being logical — or do you just want to appear wise?"

  Kedi remembered Kemi's fierce determination as a boy, the endless need to prove himself, and smiled at the memory. He wasn't old himself, but it seemed to have happened so long ago. Now he felt young again, watching the old dwarf hammer a nail in with a single strike.

  "Why do I even waste time on you!" Wigri shouted at his two apprentices' failure to replicate the feat. "You elves and your magic — can't land one good hit."

  It must be a nightmare to face dwarven armored lines — enchanted plate, warhammers in hand, stubborn, relentless. And yet their father had won Wigri's respect, had brought him back from the war.

  "Am I really so boring?" Kedi asked.

  Kemi chuckled. "Quite."

  "That's regrettable. But I see the merits of your plan. When shall we begin?"

  "Good. We ride at nightfall."

  Sendoff

  Aya had a full night's sleep and essentially a day off the next day. The mansion was abuzz with activity. Everyone knew war was coming — but how and when remained a matter of speculation. Aya and Ixi had just finished a late dinner when the call came. They hurried into the yard alongside the others.

  The first thing that struck Aya as odd was the solemn silence of the crowd. It was getting dark, and the yard was lit by magical orbs conjured by two mages. Before them stood three mounted figures — Kemi, Kedi, and beside them, Xia, dressed in noble riding clothes. All three were silent and motionless, waiting for the last of the summoned to arrive. Nearly every able warrior and guard was present — except, Aya suspected, those out on patrol. When the trickle of people ended, Kemi rode forward and raised his hand for silence. The murmur faded.

  "For long months, Lord Tezir has threatened us. Yesterday, he attacked our patrol. Before that, he sacked our village. He seeks to destroy us — and now, we finally have proof of his crimes. He is our enemy."

  He paused, sweeping his gaze over the sea of faces fixed on him.

  "Tonight, we crush him completely. Every warrior and mage rides with us. The masters of the House ride with us. The Healer rides with us."

  Again he paused, reining in his horse, which had begun to dance beneath him, stirred by his voice.

  "Tonight, we honor our ancestors. Gods be with us!"

  He ended with a warrior's salute, and Aya joined in the war cry. A strange new feeling awakened in her — a trembling in her soul, a sense of shared, overwhelming purpose. As if her self had vanished into something greater. Was it magic? A touch of the ancestors' spirits? Her own ancestors had supposedly lived in the South, and yet — she felt it. Even Ixi looked excited, but then her ancestors must have cheered for any war.

  They saddled up and waited while the captains briefed the sergeants. Kemi rode by.

  "Aya, you're with Kesa's squad tonight. Don't blank out. Ixi — come with me. You'll be a scout."

  Aya hugged Ixi and let her go. The gates opened, and they rode out.