530 - His son, my son

From: Perisalas Kem Aitzas
General for Righteous Hand Rejin and Fourth Cavalry Rejin, Kurkania
Lafahas City

To: Ifaen Shefen-kas Shaearanoias
Imperator

You Whose Mind is the Force of the World:

By these presents to which I have set my hand and seal this 10th day of the Month Sacred to Risae on this 55th-to-last Year of the Present Age, I, Perisalas Kem Aitzas of the City of Arko, do swear my life and my breath to the last in my body to the rightful Imperator of Arko, Ifaen Shefen-kas Shaearanoias, as my Imperator to wield as he sees fit in defense of the realm.

By these further presents to which I have also set my hand and seal this same day, this vanquished one offers his person freely and without let to the victor.

By these presents this one warrants he will repeat this allegiance oath by word in person when the opportunity is given me.

On the assumption of Imperial acceptance of this one’s oath, this one respectfully requests re-assignment as the defense of the Empire requires. Should the Empire have need of this one’s particular abilities, this one assures You Whose Mind is the Force of the World that this one’s mind and faculties are intact to fulfill duties required of a General of Rejins. This one, however, requires the continued assignment of Risas Eranen, solas, to assist with certain physical shortcomings due to injury recently sustained. Should You Whose Mind is the Force of the World wish this one to continue duty here in Lafahas, so it will of course be.

With all Sincerity,
Perisalas Kem Aitzas

From: Adamas Nizen solas
City of Arko

To: Elder Kallijas Itrean solas
Resident in Anoseth

10th Risae 55th-to-last YPA

Dear Kallijas:

I am happy to inform you that your son Younger Kallijas Itrean has shown sufficient vitality, strength of limb, soundness of mind and talent for combat that I accept him into my school of the arts of war in Arko.

I request therefore a meeting with you on various matters including how his training is to be financed. As you are perhaps aware, an initiative is being considered and crafted at the Marble Palace to subsidize from the Imperial purse the training of warriors, especially elite warriors, as an asset to the Empire. It may be golden-penned in time to cover the initial half-payment for his first year; if not, possibly a pro-rata arrangement is possible. But you might also consider allocating those moneys which you must already have budgeted towards more substantial and innovative training, the nature of which I am considering at the moment. I will describe further when we speak.

I also wish to discuss with you the degree of his potential ability at least as I discern it, with the caution necessary to a student’s father who is such an exceptional warrior himself: it is always almost certain, just by the law of averages, that your son will never be your equal in calibre as a warrior. This is simply something great warriors who have sons must accept.

I congratulate you and him nonetheless and greatly look forward to the honour and pleasure of being his war-teacher.

Sincerely,
Adamas Nizen.

Since we were stuck here for four days, I decided to move to more comfortable quarters. Anoseth is actually warmer than Arko, being nearer the balm of the Miyatara, but it can still get down to ice-freezing cold in the dead of night in the month after the winter solstice. Better for Kall that he be between four stone walls than fabric, so I commandeered part of the Anoseth town hall. It was more convenient for pigeon-messages anyway. The warriors quartered in the garrison barracks, and the prisoners—Toras and his command council—in the town jail. Some of his generals had sworn, but I wanted a full truth-drugging out of all of them, and worried they might bolt before we did it if we didn’t detain them.

We did that the next day, found out nothing striking, and freed those who’d sworn. My wing-courier mail in the morning had a letter from Adamas Nizen for Kall. I waited until his eyes opened in wakefulness, then kissed him good morning, and told him.

“From Adamas? About what?” He was still on strong painkillers, and his voice was still weak.

“Probably about whether he let your son in or not would be my guess.” Best I read it to him, so I did.

He smiled at the news—Younger Kall was in—but Adamas’s caution displeased him. Maybe it seemed condescending. “I quite understand I cannot expect my son to be just like me. That would be harsh beyond belief. But he wanted this... I asked him before we left.”

“I know, love,” I said. “Adamas knows you’re generally sensible, but that men can sometimes lose all sense when they become fathers. I got the same thing from Azaila about Fifth. Of course then I was away, and my shadow-father was all over him to be as good as me... it’s my shadow-father Azaila should have talked to.”

“I’ll have to make arrangements for payment, as he suggests, of course.” It was being without regular pay for so long that had put him in the habit of worrying about money, even now when he need not spare a moment’s thought on it.

“I wonder if he let Younger Kall know somehow?” I said. Arkans sometimes forget that children are people. “Would he... I guess Skorsas would have arranged that... you want to send a pigeon to the Marble Palace just to make sure?”

“Whatever you say, Sheng. I’ll see him trained if I have to sell my second best armour to do it.”

I wondered if it would have been wiser to save the letter for when he was stronger. Wound-weakness can make good news into bad. “Don’t be silly, love, you’ll sell nothing. I’m allocating that money to keep good solas families from having to do exactly that sort of thing. Besides, you think Skorsas would allow it?” I stroked his hair, and laid the letter on his night-table. “Don’t worry about anything.”

“I’ll read it again later, when I’m stronger,” he breathed. Next apprentice-healer assignment, I told myself: get some food into him.

“The main point is, he’s in. He’s going to get the same excellence in war-teaching that you did. He must be jumping up and down.” I’d send that pigeon myself, I decided, to make sure his son knew. His son... my son, really. Against all protests.

Kall smiled a little in the pained way he did now. “He’s a good boy, as far as I can see. He’ll make a good solas.”

“He now has a father.” I had a sudden pang: he almost lost you again. It was probably Younger Kall’s age, seven, that made me feel it so hard. I thought I was hiding it, but he said, “Sheng? Are you all right? I’ll be all right, just once I get my feet under me again.”

“Yes, I’m all right, thanks, love, don’t worry.” All-Spirit... if danger to his life gives me this much of a turn, how am I ever going to send him out to fight again? I’d have to get over it.