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| Volume 2: The Death of Flesh, the Death of Dreams | Part VII: The Death of Flesh, the Death of Dreams |
THERE were moments, Satai Kozorr believed, when the fate of everything that was hung in the balance, tipping precariously on the edge of a precipice, where one choice, one action, one word, could forever change the future of the galaxy. One had been the first contact with the Earthers and the subsequent declaration of war.
He believed he was present at another such moment now.
The entire Grey Council was silent, Sinoval's last words echoing throughout the Hall. Beside him stood two Shagh Toth - Soul Hunters. They were still, almost like statues, but their weapons were drawn. Sinoval's was not, but his pike hung at his side. He did not need to draw it. He himself was a weapon, the mad fire of destiny burning in his eyes, the fire of one who has finally realised his place in the galaxy, and is determined to take it.
Kalain was silent, staring in mute horror at the return of the one in whose name he had committed genocide, torture, murder.... His grotesque appearance made him seem less than Minbari, but Kozorr could attest to his strength easily enough. The fire in Kalain's eyes seemed to have died down, although the madness was still there.
Deeron was silent, staring at Sinoval with a hint of regret, of sorrow, of familiarity. Rumours named her and Sinoval as close, very close at one time. She had remained silent throughout the recent confrontation, according to Kozorr's request. Whether he triumphed or failed, she must be seen to be uninvolved.
Sonovar was silent, staring at Sinoval with blatant disapproval. His gaze shifted to the Soul Hunters with rank hatred. He was Kalain's most loyal supporter on the Council. He could not be expected to react well to the return of the one who had, up until half a cycle ago, led this Council.
Kats was silent, fallen in the darkness. Kozorr could not see or hear her. Even her breathing was inaudible. He prayed to Valen that she still lived, but if she were dead, then it would be a quick release perhaps. Still, alive or dead, her days of torture at Kalain's hands were over.
Kozorr himself was silent, staring at Sinoval with awe, and anger, and joy. The pain from his shattered leg, bruised spine, cracked skull and burned hand all faded away, replaced by a sense of destiny, of the galaxy revolving around this scene.
Sinoval was not silent. "Well, Kalain? Have I been gone so long that a friend of mine is no longer welcome here, in my Great Hall?"
Kalain's mad, dark eyes flicked to the Soul Hunters. Then a light of revelatory understanding swept across his features. "Of course," he said. "Even our oldest enemies now serve you, Holy One. Even the Soul Hunters bow down on bended knee to you. Surely nothing is beyond your reach. Now that you have returned, Holy One, we will scour our people of the heretics and the blasphemers and the faithless ones who doubted you. Where is Valen? Have you seen him, spoken with him? We are ready, Holy One. We are ready...."
Sinoval stepped forward and took the staff from Kalain's unresisting grip. He held it loosely in both hands, turning it over and over, looking at it intently. "Forged by Valen himself," he whispered. "Used by him to create this Council, given by him to Derannimer, and by her to Nemain and so on and so on, until it came to Dukhat, and then things went wrong." Sinoval sighed. "A thousand years of history is screaming at me here, and I think of what our ancestors would say should they see us now." The blasphemous words had little impact on the rest of the Council, although Gysiner flinched a little.
Sinoval raised his eyes, and looked around at each member of the Council he could see. Kats was still hidden in the darkness and Kozorr was unable to stand, but the other seven received the full fury of his stare. He then raised the staff of the Grey Council....
.... and snapped it neatly in two, casting the pieces aside.
"This is not history," he said firmly. "This is not the past, and I will not be bound by it. This Council is broken. All of you are dismissed." He looked at Kalain. "I know what you have done in my absence, Kalain. We will speak of it later."
"Of course, Holy One. Everything I did was done in your name, in the holiest of holy wisdom. The heretics, the faithless.... everything was in your name."
"In my name," Sinoval said slowly. Kozorr could see a flurry of emotions surging behind his eyes. "In.... my.... name. As I said, Kalain, I know everything you did. I am not pleased. I left Minbar to you, in your hands.... You have not done well. You are dismissed. All of you."
"But, Holy One...."
"I said you are dismissed! I will summon each of you later, to learn what part each one played in this.... shambles. This Council is broken."
"You cannot do that," said Sonovar, stepping forward. "This Council was formed by Valen. We have done nothing to break our pact with him. It was the workers who first shed blood here. We only...."
Sinoval turned to the young Satai. "Are there now fools in the warrior caste which I was once proud to call my own? I would expect this from the priestlings, but from you, Sonovar? You - whom I taught and trained, and led? There will be many words with you later.
"But now.... you are all dismissed! This Council is broken!"
With blur of motion, Sinoval drew and extended his pike. It shone with a malevolence Kozorr would never have believed possible. Sinoval held it for a moment, and then brought it crashing down on the floor. It stuck there, rising at the centre of the central column of light, at the heart of the Grey Council.
"You are all dismissed."
Slowly, beginning with Gysiner and Chardhay, the Satai began to file from the Hall. The other warriors left. Deeron left, sparing a look at Sinoval that could have meant any one of a number of things. Kozorr tried to hobble to his feet, but his shattered leg would not bear him. Sinoval himself stepped forward and helped to bear Kozorr's weight, pulling him up. From out of the darkness came Kats. She looked haggard and she was limping heavily herself, but she too shouldered the burden of Kozorr's weight. Sinoval stepped back.
Kozorr and Kats looked at Sinoval, studying his gaze. Kozorr knew at once that here was the man he would follow all the rest of his life.
"In Valen's Name, Holy One," he said.
"In Valen's Name," came the reply. Kats said nothing, but helped Kozorr as he hobbled away. He said nothing to her, resting on her support. He did not think he knew any words to say. As they reached the doorway, however, he turned and looked back. Kalain and Sonovar were gone, as if they had never been. Sinoval was standing in the central column, looking around the Hall, the two Soul Hunters at his side. He seemed to be the most lonely person in the galaxy.
Sinoval turned, noticing Kozorr's gaze. "Go to a physician," he said. "Both of you. And on your way out, send in one of the acolytes. I will need the records of every meeting held here, of every military campaign, of every foreign and domestic decision. Everything done since I left."
Kozorr nodded. "In Valen's Name, Holy One," he said. They were the only words he could find to say.
"In Valen's Name," came the reply.
"And if not in his name, then in whose?" came the solemn question afterwards. Sinoval obviously did not intend anyone to hear him, but Kozorr had. He was correct.
Sinoval was the loneliest person in the galaxy.
* * * * * * *
The hands closed around his neck, the malevolence burned into his eyes, the words tore into his ears....
"Die, Mollari! Die!"
His arms jerked upwards, acting on reflex. His hands closed around G'Kar's neck.
We know the day we will die. We see it in our dreams. Sometimes it is true, sometimes it is not. Some of us try to deny it, or ignore it, or pretend we have not seen it. It is not always true. Some try to flee it, hoping that by doing so they will live forever. Pah! Foolishness! None of us lives forever. No one.
And if I die.... then I will die as and when I choose. And if I choose to die on the steps of the Imperial Throne, then so be it. Should I choose to throw myself off this mountain, then so be that.
Old words, words spoken years ago. Words spoken by the first soldier in the Army of Light.
And the reply, spoken by the leader of the Army of Light.
But you will not, will you?
No, he hadn't, and no, he wouldn't. He still would not. Londo Mollari had seen the day of his death, and whether he had escaped it or not, he did not know. Small comfort if he had escaped death at G'Kar's hands, only to die here.
Surrounded by darkness, Londo Mollari lay silent in a holding cell, his body bruised and battered, a prisoner of the Narns.
He knew the day of his death. Sometimes death visions were wrong, but he did not think that one was.
Londo had learned two things over the course of his life; two very important things, from two very strange sources. From G'Kar he had learnt humility, serving something bigger than he was, and from that he had found friendship. From Delenn, he had learned hope. Even in the depths of despair, there is still hope. There is always hope.
Trapped in the darkness, Londo Mollari clung to that hope.
* * * * * * *
Sinoval stood alone in the centre of the Hall of the Grey Council, staring at the pike he had thrust deep into the floor there. Illuminated by the light, it stood out as a force of darkness. He had placed a part of his soul in that weapon, and it reflected his spirit clearly enough. He had called it Stormbringer, a name which boded ill, but which seemed fitting.
He straightened at the sound of footsteps behind him, but said nothing. He was in no danger. His Soul Hunters were here, watching him. Cathedral was hidden in a fold in hyperspace, just out of view. He had thought it best to come here alone.
He turned as Deeron walked up to him. Her expression unreadable, she lowered her head. A gesture so contemptuous as to be almost treason.
"Well," she said. "You returned, then."
"Yes."
"I just never thought.... Not even you would do this."
"I do what is necessary."
"Yes. I suppose you do." A pause. "Why have you called me here?"
"The Grey Council is broken. It will stay that way. I am making my own destiny here, Deeron. I have studied the records of the Grey Council during the time I was gone. You have done little, said little, voted perfectly along with Kalain as he began the process which would destroy our people. And yet.... I know you. I trained you. In many ways you think in the same way that I do.
"What is there I was not being told?"
"I do not know what you mean...."
"Don't lie to me." No anger. No furious outburst. Just a simple statement of fact. "You were involved with Kozorr's.... actions, weren't you? The dispatching of the Otosan, the Hantei, the Kisada.... and so on. Your actions. Why?"
"Kalain was insane. I had to buy time for.... something to happen. I saw the Earthers as a threat, even if he didn't."
"And Kozorr?"
"An idealist. A love-struck fool, but his heart was right."
"I see...." Sinoval paused, and looked down at Stormbringer. "Will you swear fealty to me?"
"What?"
"As a man, an individual. Will you swear fealty to me, as your leader? As Holy One?"
"No."
Sinoval looked at her. Nothing was visible beneath her façade, beneath her exterior. Nothing visible, but there was something there. He knew it.
"Then go. Leave this place."
She lowered her head, and left the Hall. Not a word was spoken as she went.
* * * * * * *
Alfred Bester was quietly walking down a corridor one day when he ran into Ambassador David Sheridan.
Polite nods were exchanged, urbane murmurs of conversation between two men who were on diametrically opposed sides of a conflict - and knew it, even if they were not supposed to know it - and they passed each other by. A simple meeting, that was all.
Except:
"It is strange," Ambassador Sheridan noted, "to see a man of your talents serving a Narn rabble-rouser. But then perhaps the common view of telepaths is correct. You are only fit to serve."
Bester spun on his heel, focussing his attention on the man before him. Sheridan in his turn remained still and peaceful. The redoubtable Mr. Welles had files and information on everyone and everything in existence. Cracking those files had proved.... problematic, at best. Welles was an ingenious little devil when he wanted to be. As it was, Sheridan had uncovered only a little of Welles' hidden knowledge, but a part of that knowledge was concerning a certain Mr. Bester and his certain relationship with a certain Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar.
"I serve no one," Bester replied smoothly. "Certainly not a.... what was it? A Narn rabble-rouser?"
"I see. Then Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar is not ensconced in the heart of the mysterious machine hidden on Epsilon Three? Then you and he are not working in alliance against us? Then you did not send ships to battle our allies at the Second Line? I am mistaken in all these things, I suppose?"
"Quite, quite mistaken, Ambassador. And should such scandalous rumours ever reach the ear of the President...."
"Which they will not. You have no fear of your little secrets being exposed, Mr. Bester."
"I have no secrets to be exposed, Ambassador Sheridan." Bester paused, a thin, very self-satisfied smile twitching across his features. "But should it be that I do have secrets, there is a certain man who may be involved with some of them. A name very similar to yours, I believe. What was it again?"
"I have no son."
"Really? That's not what he thinks."
"I have no son."
"Oh well. I must be on my way. Should I see Captain Sheridan, I will be sure to give him your regards."
A normal, simple corridor meeting, which laid the seeds for something far deeper....
* * * * * * *
It was the smell he noticed first, the rancid, stinking odour of a walking corpse. Sinoval saw the Soul Hunters twitch uncomfortably, their faces filled with disgust. After the smell, there was the sound of soft, gargling breath, and after that, the footsteps of someone shuffling, unable to lift one foot after the other.
And then he came into view, avoiding the light wherever possible. Still, Sinoval could see the silhouette and pick out his former friend clearly enough.
Kalain was hardly the warrior he had been.
"I am here, Great One," he said, his voice hoarse and rasping. He remained in the darkness.
"Come into the light." An order that none dared disobey.
"Great One...."
"Come into the light." On appearances, there was no difference in tone between the two commands, but in actuality, only a fool or a madman would have disobeyed that last intonation. Which was Kalain?
Regardless, he hobbled into the centre of one of the columns of light. With a thought, Sinoval shut down the other eight, leaving only himself in the centre and Kalain facing him. He looked at the warrior Satai with a critical eye, seeing not his friend, but the man who had tried to destroy Minbar.
Kalain was shrinking from the light, shielding his eyes, holding one crooked arm above his head. He looked pitiful.
"Why?" One word. All that was needed.
"In your name, Great One."
"Why, Kalain? Why?"
"They.... they needed to be purged. All who would not believe. We are entering the beginning of the next cycle, Great One. The return of Valen, the breaking of the Grey Council, the destruction of our home, the forging of something new from the ashes, something greater by far. With you at Valen's side, and I at yours, Great One. All who would not believe, who would not swear themselves to you.... the weak, the foolish, the heretics.... All had to be purged."
There was silence.
"Great One?" Kalain could not bring himself to open his eyes, to look at his Master.
"Kalain.... I trained you, a long time ago, when I was little more than an acolyte myself. You fought alongside me, rose alongside me, displayed courage and skill enough to blind one hundred warriors. In all that time, you made only one mistake, just one act of fear. There is no shame in fear, Kalain. That is what lets us know we are alive. I witnessed the Starkiller's assault on our forces at Mars. It was as if one of the Gods of old had descended from the heavens into our ranks, bringing fire and death wherever it moved. I doubt any of us shall see its like again. Your actions then did not shame you. I was afraid then.
"And yet.... and yet I fear for you, Kalain. I fear you have let that one moment consume you. It is eating you alive. You have always been a proud man, but pride is a virtue. You have always been a strong man, but strength is a gift. You have always been a passionate man, and passion has been your undoing.
"Before I left here, Kalain.... I came to see you. Do you remember what I asked of you?"
"Yes, Great One. You told me you were going to seek Valen, to find your destiny.... to bring salvation back to our people. I was to be the shepherd in your absence. The burnings.... the killings.... they were to be used. The fallen were to be excised, the murderers to be punished. I was to lead in your absence."
Sinoval sighed. So much gone wrong, and if only he had been here.... No, enough of the past. It was gone. The future was what mattered.
"You are the fallen, Kalain. You are the murderer. It will be my task to help you rise once more. I have heard about what you did. Hedronn at Tuzanor.... the massacres all over the Federation.... the Earther ships you ignored.... the torture of one of our own in our sacred Hall...."
Sinoval did not raise his voice. He did not need to. Each word left his mouth like a dagger flying from his hands. He only wished he did not have to speak so.
"You have fallen, Kalain. Go. Leave this place. Go out into the universe, and seek your own destiny. It will take time to undo what you have done here, but it can be done. Perhaps when you return, you will be ready to aid me."
"In your name, Great One...." Kalain looked as though he were crying. "In.... your.... name!" Crying, or laughing. "We are changing, the next cycle beginning. Our world will be shattered, our people cast into the flames, our holiest of holy places cast down. Only the strong will endure, only the powerful will survive.... Let the weak fall, let the fallen perish...."
His body suddenly shook, as if he were jolted by lightning. He threw back his head and screamed. Sinoval simply watched. Kalain's body sank into itself. He remained there, not moving, until his eyes opened. Sinoval looked at them dispassionately. They were colourless, empty of pupil and iris, nothing more than deep, pale holes into Kalain's body. Essentially he was now a husk - soulless, devoid of life and strength. Perhaps, with time, new strength could be breathed into him, but Sinoval did not think so.
"By.... your.... will, Great One...." Kalain lowered his head and scurried away, fleeing the light as if it were his greatest enemy.
"I sense your hand, Jha'dur," Sinoval muttered. "Even when you are dead, I am not free of you, it seems." Ah, well. Kalain was a problem for another day. The problem for this day was the mess he had left behind.
One of the Soul Hunters spoke, for the first time that Sinoval could remember. His guards had always been silent, motionless, often little more than statues. He heard the Shagh Toth's comment, and his face hardened.
"He is mad. A madman's soul is a worthy prize."
"It is the prerogative of the madman to speak truths that no one else will hear," Sinoval said sharply, and the Soul Hunters returned to their silent immobility.
Truths that no one else will hear.... or can hear?
Sinoval did not know.
* * * * * * *
Hyperspace.... a swirling, colourful mass of.... what? Captain Smith did not understand the science of hyperspace, but then he did not understand how his muscles worked either. That did not prevent him from using them.
He supposed he should be sleeping, but he found he always slept badly in this ship, tormented by the ghosts of those who had slept here before, tormented by the ghost of one man: Captain Sheridan.
For the seventh time in the last hour, he looked at the readouts on his desk. Destination: Minbar. ETA: sixteen hours, forty-three minutes - a whole four minutes since the last time he had looked.
Smith was career military, had joined up before the war. His whole life there had been dominated by just one thought.... advancement. Making his way up. His initial advances had been considerable, but then had come the Minbari.... and he had been stranded, forever trapped on-planet, with no opportunity to see space again.
This was the chance of a lifetime for him, something he would have thought unlikely even before the fall of Earth. The President himself had appointed Smith to this position, a rank very few could even have dreamed of. If the climax of the war went well - and there was no reason why it shouldn't, given earlier successes - then Smith would be one of the heroes of the new humanity.
So why did he not feel very heroic, and why were his thoughts occupied.... elsewhere?
For the ninth time in the last hour, he went to his console. This was his ready room, after all. Sheridan's ready room. No one else was here, no one to see the anxieties of their Captain, or to wonder at his obsession with one particular member of his crew.
For the ninth time in the last hour, he called up the records on Stoner, Lieutenant T., and for the ninth time in the last hour, he uncovered a series of entries which meant nothing. Father: unknown. Mother: unknown. Siblings: none known. Place of birth: unknown. Date of birth: unknown.
Nothing about her personal life was known. About her military career there was a little more. She had joined Earthforce during the planetary draft mid-way through the war. Her training had not been complete at the fall of Earth, but she had been one of those who had escaped from Mars, making her way to Orion, where she had been further trained. Her prior experience had been.... negligible. A period on board Takashima's Janus. She had been one of the few to escape from that ship following its destruction a few months before the fall of Orion. After that.... a long period aboard the Babylon, during which she had done nothing, said nothing and generally not existed.
What was it about her? Smith returned to his seat, began drumming his fingers on the desk, and then stopped when he realised what he was doing.
She was a telepath, of that he was certain. He had grown up around them, and something in the bearing, the mannerisms.... they all confirmed it.
So what was a telepath doing on board a former Earthforce spaceship?
Smith was still pondering that question when a massive explosion took out half the weapons array and parts of the transport tube system.
* * * * * * *
Kozorr was flickering in and out of consciousness, only faintly aware of the woman by his side, when the sound of booted footsteps woke him a little, and he struggled to move in his bed. He could not, of course, being restrained, but he could at least move his head slightly, sufficiently to see the Holy One walk into view.
"In.... Valen's Name," he rasped. "Holy One."
"In Valen's Name, Kozorr." His heart almost stopped. Kozorr, not Satai Kozorr. Still, what had the Holy One said - the Grey Council was broken. Of course, what else should he expect? "How are your injuries?"
"Still serious," replied a soft, lilting voice from his side. Kozorr blinked, and then remembered that Kats had been here the whole time. Had he spoken to her? He must have done, but he could not remember what he had said. "He should be resting, Holy One." A trace of accusation in her voice? The merest hint of dislike?
"I will recover, Holy One. The physicians said that I will be able to walk and fight within a few days at most."
"They said no such thing," Kats hissed. "Rest and recover, you idiot, or you will...."
"Perhaps I should leave the two of you alone?" the Holy One remarked wryly.
"No, Lord," Kozorr replied quickly. "I may be able to walk within a few days. My injuries are not as severe as they appeared."
"Your.... hand?"
Kozorr tried to shift his gaze to look at his left hand. He could not move his neck sufficiently - such was the damage to his headbone and spine - but he knew what he would see. The skin on his hand had been burned away, as had the flesh and muscle. In some places the bone could clearly be seen. The physicians had said nothing, but Kozorr knew he would never use it again. It would probably have to be removed. He felt it with the loss a warrior feels for the destruction of a close and trusted weapon, but he remembered what the loss had bought, and he was content.
"I will never use it again," he said simply. He thought he saw Sinoval bow his head gently.
"I am sorry for that, Kozorr, and for you as well, Lady Kats. Had I been here...."
"There is little point in worrying about the past, Holy One. I am alive, he is alive. We must thank Valen for that, and move on towards the future."
"Valen, yes.... And the future. It is about the future that I have come. The Grey Council is broken, and it will stay that way. I am building a future for the Minbari, a future which is not tied to the past. To do that, I must needs know whom I can trust. Kozorr, why did you risk your life against Kalain? No other dared act. You assaulted the one I placed at the head of our people. Why?"
"Because it was right, Holy One." No doubt, no hesitation.
"Are you sure of that? It was right?"
"Yes, Holy One."
"Why so sure?"
"Because.... what Satai Kalain was doing was wrong.... Not just the massacre of the worker caste, or his negligence regarding the Earthers, or even the...." Kozorr's eyes flicked to Kats, who said nothing. "Even his treatment of Satai Kats.... Satai Kalain's actions were wrong because he denied us the right to be Minbari. He would have thrown us all to our deaths without a thought, for no reason. He violated our precepts, broke his word, betrayed us all. My challenge to him was my attempt to stop him. No more."
"Have I not violated our precepts? I have broken the Grey Council forged by Valen a thousand years ago. I have brought our ancient enemies into our ranks, made alliances and bargains with them. Am I not as guilty as he?"
"Yes, Lord. You are."
"So brave, to tell me that. If I were to tell you that I had raised Kalain even further.... that I had given your life to him.... what would you say then?"
"Then.... Holy One.... I would say that you lied."
There was a pause, and then Sinoval suddenly began to laugh, a deep, brilliant, strong laugh. Kozorr looked across at Kats, and tried to move his right hand to touch hers. She shied away from him a little, and would not look at him.
"You are a good man, Kozorr. A very good man. You alone had the courage to do what had to be done. You alone stood up against him.... and you alone would have risked your life for another. I told you the truth - the Grey Council is broken and will remain so as long as I live, but I will still need those who will fight alongside me. Congratulations, Shai Alyt Kozorr."
Kozorr's heart leapt. Shai Alyt! A title given him by one he respected so much. At last, a chance truly to serve. And yet.... and yet.... there was one thing....
"What of Satai Kats?" he asked. Beside him, she started. "She.... she has been wronged by Satai Kalain, Holy One, and therefore by you.... What will you do for her?"
She tried signalling him to silence, but failed. She was looking at him with a horrified expression.
"You are right, Shai Alyt. I have done wrong by her, and by her caste. For that, Lady Kats, I can only ask forgiveness, not in my name, but in the name of my caste. We have wronged you, and that is something which can never be undone, but you also fought Kalain, in your own way. Will you serve me, and permit both of us the chance to try to make right that wrong?"
"You are also right, Holy One," she said, with not a hint of pride or shame or pain in her voice. "The warrior caste has done me wrong, but one of them risked a great deal to spare me pain." Her fingers closed around Kozorr's hand, and squeezed it. "Because Kozorr wishes it, I will serve you, through fire and darkness, past death and despair, until my soul is reborn, when I hope to serve yours once more."
Kozorr was stunned. The highest form of oath anyone could make, and she had made it because he had spoken up for her?
"That will be difficult," Sinoval whispered, "as my soul will never be reborn, but that is a problem for another day. And you, Shai Alyt Kozorr? Will you serve me as Lady Kats has sworn to do?"
Kozorr looked up into the eyes of the man he knew he would serve forever and into the eyes of the woman he knew he would love forever, and he began to speak the same oath as Kats had sworn.
* * * * * * *
Warleader G'Sten sat in the office that was not his, and never would be his, and he looked at the paperwork, counting up the dead and the living, and noting that the first column was depressingly long. Not just Narn dead, but Centauri as well.
Overall, this had been a fairly simple operation. For whatever reason the Centauri had weakened their protection of their greatest victory so far, and had enabled the Narn to swoop in easily. The space war had been straightforward enough, but the guerrilla war inside the military base had taken almost a full day before the Centauri forces were defeated. They had fought well, obviously having learned from the Narns.
And best of all, Lord-General Marrago had been captured. He had displayed a remarkable knack for slipping out of even the tightest of traps, but this time he had fallen. He would be sent back to Narn for execution, along with the other noble who had been taken. What he had been doing here G'Sten had no idea, but his hair and manner of speech identified him as a noble, even if his clothes did not.
G'Sten supposed there would be great feasting on Narn tonight. He wished that were not so. He had been a soldier all his life, and he knew that there was never any such thing as a 'glorious victory'. Many dead, many more injured or maimed, and the battle was usually for nothing anyway. The complex here had been a Narn military base, taken over by the Centauri only recently. Now that it was taken back the Narns were no better off than they had been a few months ago. Madness.... all of it.
A noise outside his door startled him, and G'Sten stood up. His personal bodyguard - Ja'Doc - had been out there. He was reckoned to be the best unarmed fighter in all Narn territory. Surely no one could....
Evidently someone had. A figure drifted into the office. He did not seem to wield any sort of weapon - but he must have had one in order to fell Ja'Doc. G'Sten reached for the long dagger secured to his leg. He was moving slowly but sinuously, determined not to alert this would-be assassin.
The figure threw back his hood, and G'Sten stared in surprise. A Minbari! Here! Well, he had nothing to worry about. The Kha'Ri had no wish to ignite any form of conflict with the Minbari, so he would probably be permitted to leave....
.... but why was he...?
"Warleader G'Sten," the Minbari said, speaking the Narn language fluently. "My name is Lennier, of the Third Fane of Chudomo. We have to talk. It concerns your nephew...."
* * * * * * *
Stormbringer.... the Bringer of Storms....
"Am I the storm?" Sinoval asked softly, looking at the weapon he had forged. "Or am I the harbinger of it? The storm is coming, and it will be here soon. I can feel it.
"Ah, Valen.... if you have chosen me, I fear your choice was not wise.... but that does not matter. Our destiny is what we make for ourselves. There is no prophecy, no destiny, nothing....
"We are what we make of ourselves."
He had returned to the Hall of the Grey Council, some five hours after he had arrived here. A great deal had happened in that time, but compared to the frenzied action which would follow, it was nothing. The fate of Minbar was resting on him....
Slowly, the members of the former Grey Council walked in. Sonovar came first, walking proudly, arrogantly. Sinoval did not like him. There was a darkness running through his soul, a darkness that spoke only of self, not of others.
Of course, Deeron had said something similar about him, and she might have turned out to be correct.
Behind Sonovar, following as the vultures followed the battlefield, came the other two warriors. Sinoval knew neither, but that did not matter. He knew what they were, which was enough.
Then came Gysiner and Chardhay, their noses wrinkling at the sight of the Soul Hunters at the entrance to the Hall. Then they saw Sinoval, and their manner changed instantly, becoming fawning and sycophantic. These were the two who had watched a member of this assembly being brutally tortured over a period of months and had done nothing, not because they believed the torture to be right - as had Sonovar and his companions - but because they were afraid of what would happen should they act.
Kats herself then followed, walking slowly, hesitantly. She looked at the column of light with open fear. Then her bearing straightened, her eyes lifted, and she walked into her place as if she were an acolyte freshly raised to the Council.
Sinoval had studied the device Kalain had used, and was appalled by its brutal simplicity. Kalain had manipulated the source of the light so that it emitted a dangerous and agonising form of radiation. It was not lingering, but while Kats stood there she had been bathed by a force which caused her bones to grind against one another, her nerve endings to shoot out messages of agony throughout her body, even her blood nearly to boil in her veins. Kozorr had caught a concentrated dose - the device having been set to increase in intensity should anyone else enter the column - but Kats had been enduring the pain for months.
No longer.
All were here now. Kalain had gone, hopefully following Sinoval's advice and seeking his own sense of destiny. Kozorr was sleeping, letting his wounds heal. Deeron was.... simply absent.
Sinoval took a deep breath, thought of Marrain in his ageless prison of fire and hatred and madness, and began to speak.
"I have been studying the records of actions taken while I was gone," he began. "I know of the torture which was carried out by the Grey Council against one of its members. I know those who sat back watching while this torture was carried out. I know of the massacre perpetrated on one third of our people, and I know who authorised that massacre, and who carried it out. Those who are guilty will be punished, I assure you.
"And I know of the threat posed to us. For months now, the Earthers have been assaulting our borders, attacking and capturing our colonies, engaging and destroying our ships. And only two of this assembly dared take any action. Only...."
He was interrupted. Sonovar was laughing. "The Earthers? You have grown weak in your absence, Sinoval. What threat can they pose? Their homeworld is gone, their fleet in ruins.... they are no threat to anyone."
"They have taken our colonies," Sinoval repeated, speaking slowly. "They have destroyed our ships. They plan to destroy or occupy our homeworld. Their fleets are advancing now, and they will be here soon. We have not the resources to defeat them."
"You are soft, and pathetic. To think you were once a warrior, Sinoval."
"I am still a warrior, and not one to be mocked by you! Where are our ships, Sonovar? Where are our resources, our weapons, our fleets? Away from here. They are on patrol.... out in deep space, or guarding minor stations, protecting borders that were never under any threat. You know that of course, Sonovar, for you were the one who sent them there."
"I was obeying the orders of the one who stood where you stand now...."
"And he has been punished for giving those orders, as you should be for obeying them. I will not argue with you, Sonovar. Our time here is short, and will grow shorter. I have issued a general recall order for all our ships...."
Sinoval paused. He hoped he would never again have to speak any words which filled him with as much dread as these did.
".... but not to here. Minbar is lost to us. An evacuation will be ordered, and Valen have mercy on all our souls."