Page 22 of Of Empires and Dust

“You…” Benem coughed and choked, his eyes watering as he held his throat. “Stupid fucking oaf.” The man stood tall, rolling his shoulders back and puffing out his chest before launching himself at Erdhardt.

The resulting fight lasted all of three heartbeats.

Benem swung his fist. Erdhardt leaned his neck backwards, avoiding the blow. He grabbed Benem’s head and slammed it down against the wooden table with acrack, causing the representatives from Ölm and Talin to jump backwards.

Benem slumped to the ground, mumbling, blood streaming from his nose and forehead.

The entire hall went silent.

“Please, continue.” Erdhardt gestured towards Lanan as though nothing had happened.

For a moment, the other elders from Pirn looked as though they were about to cause a riot, but one look at Erdhardt made them think better of it. Instead, they hauled Benem into his chair, checking his wounds and slapping his cheek to keep him awake while he groaned.

Erdhardt looked from Benem to the other elders, shaking his head. “I don’t even know how many of us died tonight. We’re too tired to count the bodies. We’ve lost hundreds in days. The likelihood is each of you in this room has friends you spoke to today but will never speak to again. None of us, not one soul here, has seen darker times than these. And still, this fool wants to squabble and argue over who has ‘power’. None of us have power. We are not fighting for control, we are fighting for survival. We are fighting so that our bloodlines are not ended here, so that fear is not the last thing our children know. My boy died of the blood lung when he was no more than five. My wife, the only piece of me that was worth anything, died the night I lost my home. I fight for all of you, in the hope that you neverknow my pain. If any of you have a problem with that, speak now.”

After a tense moment, Lanan straightened. “Let us no longer fight as men and women of Salme, or The Glade, or Talin, or Pirn, but as kin. The western villages have long shared blood and honour and promises. But now, let us share oaths. I do not wish to become your lady or your ruler – that is not our way. I wish to recognise this point as the moment we chose to stand together. I propose we formally recognise the members of this council not as representatives of separate peoples but of one people. That we lead together with a clear purpose – to survive. I know it seems an insignificant thing at a time like this. Pointless, even. But it’s not. We must see each face around this table, each face within these walls, as kin, as one of our own. All those in favour?”

Kara Thain was the first to raise her hand. “It is long past time.”

The other elders of Erith followed suit, with Ylinda Pimm and Yarik Tumber close behind. Eventually, all those gathered, with the exception of Benem, had done so. After a few moments, and some harsh muttering from the other Pirn elders, Benem raised his hand.

Dahlen, Camwyn, and Thannon remained silent with their hands at their sides, as did the Lorians.

Nimara was the only one still seated at the table. “What of the Belduaran refugees?”

“They have come here seeking a new home, just as the others have.” Lanan rested one hand on the table. “They have fought and bled with us. They have earned their place, as have your dwarves. We stand together or we break. If they want their new home, they will have to save it.”

Nimara nodded.

Lanan drew a long breath, then looked to the Lorians. She pinched her top lip with her bottom teeth. “And what ofyou, Exarch Dorman? What of the Lorian soldiers under your command?”

The man glanced to his companions, then around those gathered. “We have sent hawks to the Twenty-Third Army stationed near Argona and north to Antiquar. We will stay until relief arrives.”

“With the Uraks holding everywhere between here and Camylin, you don’t exactly have a choice, do you?” Thannon leaned forwards, giving the Battlemage a flat stare, the elders turning their heads at his interjection.

Dahlen tensed as the mage’s eyes sharpened, and he took a step forward. Dahlen had faced enough mages to know if it was Dorman’s will, Thannon’s heart would cease beating in a matter of moments.

“Speak plainly, Belduaran.” The mage stopped only a foot or so from Erdhardt, unblinking.

“What he meant to say, I’m sure,” Lanan interrupted, stepping between the two, “was that we thank the Lorian Empire for its aid, and we will gladly accept your steel for as long as you can spare it.”

“Hmm.” The mage drew a slow breath through his nose, then inclined his head to Lanan. “To protect is our duty. Thank you for taking us in.”

“Now,” Lanan said, turning back to the table as the mage took his place by his companions. “If we are to be one people, we must swear it under the eyes of the gods.”

“And what would be the name of this new union? If we build a city here, what do we call it?” one of the Erith elders asked.

“A name means little if we’re all dead,” Erdhardt said with a shrug.

“True words.” Lanan gave Erdhardt a smile of agreement. “For now, we will swear to abide by the decisions of this council,to treat each other as kin, and to defend our home as one. A name, we can choose later.”

When each of those present had sworn the oaths, Erdhardt raised his hand, letting out a short cough.

“What is it, Erdhardt?”

“There is none more eager to put these talks to rest than I, but there is one last thing that must also be discussed.”

“Which is?” Yarik Tumber asked, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice.

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