The Hidden City

The surrounding mountains were steep and rugged and were covered with dark evergreens which sighed endlessly in the prevailing wind sweeping down out of the wilderness to the north. The weather was cold, and the leaden sky spat stinging pellets of snow as Vanion’s army of Church Knights slowly descended the long, steep road leading down into the gorge. Vanion and Itagne, muffled in their heavy cloaks, rode at the head of the column.
    ‘I’d have much preferred to stay on Aphrael’s island,’ Itagne said, shivering and pulling his cloak tighter. ‘I’ve never been particularly fond of this time of year.’
    ‘We’re almost there, your Excellency,’ Vanion replied.
    ‘Is it customary to campaign in the wintertime, Lord Vanion?’ Itagne asked. ‘In Eosia, I mean?’
    ‘We try to avoid it, your Excellency,’ Vanion replied. ‘The Lamorks attack each other in the winter, but the rest of us usually have better sense.’
    ‘It’s a miserable time to go to war.’
    Vanion smiled faintly. ‘That it is, my friend, but that’s not why we avoid it. It’s a question of economics, really. It’s more expensive to campaign in winter because you have to buy hay for the horses. It’s the expense that keeps Elene kings peaceful when there’s snow on the ground.’ Vanion stood up in his stirrups to peer ahead. ‘Betuana’s waiting,’ he said. ‘We’d better ride down to meet her.’
    Itagne nodded, and they pushed their horses into a jolting trot.
    The Queen of Atan had left them at Dasan on the eastern edge of the mountains to come on ahead. She had several very good reasons, of course, but Vanion privately suspected that her decision had been influenced more by impatience than necessity. Betuana was too polite to speak of it, but she clearly had little use for horses, and she seldom missed an opportunity to outrun them. She and Engessa, both garbed in otter-skins, waited at the roadside about a mile outside the city.
    ‘Was there any trouble?’ the Atan Queen asked.
    ‘No, your Majesty,’ Vanion replied, his black armor clinking as he swung down out of his saddle. ‘We were watched, but there’s nothing unusual about that. Has anything been happening in Cynesga?’
    ‘They’re moving up to the border, Vanion-Preceptor,’ Engessa replied quietly. ‘They aren’t being very subtle about it. We’ve been disrupting their supply lines and ambushing their scouting parties just to keep them off-balance, but it’s fairly obvious that they plan to come across the line in force.’
    Vanion nodded. ‘It’s more or less what we expected, then. If it’s all right with you, your Majesty, I’d like to get my men settled in before we get too involved in discussions. I can always think better after I’ve seen to all the details.’
    ‘Of course,’ Betuana agreed. ‘Engessa-Atan and I have arranged quarters for them. When will you be leaving for Samar?’
    ‘Tomorrow or the next day, Betuana-Queen. Tikume’s Peloi are probably spread a little thin down there. He has a lot of ground to cover.’
    ‘He sent back to Pela for more men, Vanion-Lord,’ Engessa advised. ‘You’ll have a sizeable force in Samar in a week or so.’
    ‘Good. Let me go back and hurry the knights along. We have much to discuss.’
    Night settled early at the bottom of the gorge of the River Sama, and it was fully dark by the time Vanion joined the others in the headquarters of the city’s Atan garrison. Like all Atan structures, the building was severely utilitarian and devoid of any embellishment. The lone exception in the conference room in which they gathered was a very large map covering one entire wall. The map was brightly colored and dotted here and there with fanciful illustrations. Vanion had bathed hurriedly and now wore plain clothing. The years had taught him that armor was impressive and even useful at times, but that no one had yet devised a way to make it comfortable or to eliminate its characteristic smell.
    ‘Are the quarters satisfactory?’ Betuana enquired politely.
    ‘Most satisfactory, your Majesty,’ he replied, settling into a chair. ‘Have you been advised of the details of our meeting with the Child Goddess?’
    She nodded. ‘Itagne-Ambassador gave me a report,’ she replied. She paused. ‘One is curious to know why one was excluded,’ she added.
    ‘Theological considerations, your Majesty,’ Vanion explained. ‘As I understand it, the Gods have an exquisitely complex etiquette in these