Brighteyes

103, Age of Isolation, Early Spring

"Did you really think that madness and greed for power ever ended?"

-Spoken by Irrino Alusta to the Dawn Children.

Yaenatue Brighteyes yawned, then shivered. Gods damn it. Was the woman ever going to move?

Not so far. So far she seemed determined on making his responsibility as hard as possible. She sat still, smiling at the people who came to congratulate her, nodding now and then as though one of them were making a perfectly pleasant comment. Yaenatue didn't think so. There would be two ways that people spoke to her, and no more: with reverential awe, or with screaming hatred. It all depended on whether they saw her as genuine or not.

Yaenatue knew she wasn't. But he cared more about the wind that blew across his skin, cutting almost to his bones with its cold. Wasn't she ever going to move? She hadn't come out here just to sit in the sunrise and be admired. She had come out to make a stirring speech, to inspire her followers, or something of the kind.

Finally, she was moving! Yaenatue stretched his cramped muscles, and then cursed mildly as he realized that the cold had affected their stiffness as well as chilling his skin. He raised his body temperature, finally, though the magic made more than one person in the gathering crowd look towards his hiding place. He went still again, his eyes fixed on the woman.

Rinata, her name was. Or so he thought. He didn't often think of things like that. It was what she prided herself on, the soft swell of her belly, which concerned him.

Rinata stood on the crest of the small hill and began to speak, raising her arms as if that could draw more attention to her. Yaenatue doubted it could. She was already the focus of every eye, every rapt stare.

Damn it, he added to himself. That would make it all the harder to kill her.

"What you have heard is true," said Rinata. "The child is the one who can unite Arcadia, and give us peace as we have not had in a hundred years."

A loud cheer came back. Yaenatue rolled his eyes. It was one hundred and three years since the end of the War of the Falling and the immediate eruption of dozens of minor wars. But, of course, the round number sounded more impressive. He wondered that none of the people gathered below Rinata saw through the simple ploy. They were triltnai, after all, time Elwens. They should be acutely aware of just how much time had passed. The ones Yaenatue knew were always correcting him.

Rinata, who was time Elwen herself- green skin and hair, golden eyes, and the same long limbs and strange sense of grace that a stork had- gestured for the cheer to fall silent, and beamed at them. "I know that all of you want to congratulate me," she said softly. "But there is something that must be done first. We are not safe here."

The crowd gasped. Yaenatue narrowed his eyes. Had she seen something? He didn't think so. Time Elwens who were pregnant or acting as parents to very young children didn't often use futuresight around them, in case the dangerous gift would seep into the young minds and detach them from their normal position in their birth year. Unless someone had seen ahead for her beforehand...

Yaenatue shrugged. It would make his task harder, but he did have an escape route planned, in case something happened.

"There are those who will seek the child's life," said Rinata, and her voice was unexpectedly rich and deep with sorrow. Time Elwen voices usually sounded shrill. "They will not understand the promise of peace he brings, a promise that is richly magnified by the need for him." Yaenatue rolled his eyes again, wondering if she realized that she made no sense. "There are others who do not believe me, and still others who will think that he should not be born because of what will happen, not because they do not believe in the promise of it. They believe all too well. But they are evil, and they want the wars to continue because those wars benefit them."

Are those the only explanations you can come up with? thought Yaenatue as he watched the audience nod solemnly. I could think of better explanations than that, and I would. And I would more than likely take sane precautions against danger, too.

Someone in the crowd cried, "But, my lady, you carry the child of the hero who saved Arcadia, who could have ruled if he had not committed suicide! Why would they object to that?"

Think about it, thought Yaenatue, and shifted again. Damn it, for this stupidity he was out here and waiting in the cold wind until Rinata decided to move inside.

Rinata smiled, a smile that was supposed to make her look stately but only made her look arrogant. "They don't understand," she said. "Or they don't believe. Or they think it was wrong to manipulate time and go back in order that I might bear the child who could unite Arcadia." Her hand fell to the soft swell of her belly, and she caressed it as if she would stroke the child's head through her skin. "They think that the memory of Maruss Freewind should be left dead, and that we should go on as we are."

She lifted her head like a deer scenting the air, and Yaenatue eyed the expanse of her forehead longingly. He could shoot it from where he crouched so easily. But they insisted that he talk to her first, and prevent this from changing into a bloody martyrdom if at all possible. With a sigh, he eased his hand away from the magically improved crossbow he carried all the time.

"As we are," Rinata was saying, in a voice that, again, was meant to sound deep and impressive. "Warring with each other, divided race against race, and forgetting the sacrifice that the Lord Maruss made to free us from the silver unicorns! A sacrifice of pain and grief and death, of his soul devastated and lost in the Oblivion! They would destroy all he won.

"We must get it back."

Yaenatue yawned and lay down in the bushes. He wished he had Jylaet with him on this one, so that he could ask her to wake him when Rinata was done preaching. But Jylaet, for whom this thing had a kind of perverse fascination, was away on another task. Yaenatue had to remain awake, and listen to the rambling, trying his best to keep his mind from deteriorating.

"And they would have us go on warring," said Rinata. "The Lord Maruss Freewind wanted all races in his army, and so all of them banded together and destroyed the unicorns. Did you remember that?" This was to some of the time Elwens, who murmured and ducked their heads. Yaenatue closed his eyes firmly. He couldn't take much more of the humility that poured off them in waves. "He tried to save us, and all we did was take our freedom and turn it into battles. We shut ourselves up in our cities and kill each other in the name of reclaiming what we think should be ours. Well, the unicorns had us enslaved for years, and enslaved our ancestors, and it wasn't fair. But we won't recall what once was by cowering in our separate cities and howling that we've been treated unfairly. We have to unite, and the best way to do that is to follow Maruss's legacy."

Yaenatue debated with himself whether he should open his eyes and look, and at last he did so, driven by that perverse curiosity that would have made Jylaet look. Yes, she was stroking her belly. It was obvious just what legacy of Maruss Freewind she meant.

"I have gone back," said Rinata. "I have met him in time. I have spoken to him, and I understand that he would have wanted the peace he fought so hard for to continue. Thus, the child." Again, her hand stroked her belly.

"But- my lady-" said a voice from the crowd, with a rare tone of doubt in it. "Isn't it possible that someone could believe you bore Maruss Freewind's child, and want peace, and yet be wary of following the child?"

Yaenatue turned his head. Rationality? Was it really present among this woman's adoring followers?

"What do you mean?" Rinata's voice snapped like icefloes calving.

"Just that Maruss Freewind refused to become a ruler. Why shouldn't his son or his daughter be different, and become a ruler? That would inspire distrust and not trust among those who might follow otherwise."

Rinata shook her head. "Though the Lord Maruss Freewind was great and good, he was not completely good," she murmured. "His name as the Master of Fate is too true. It was his destiny to become ruler of Arcadia, and insure that we could peacefully reestablish ourselves and learn the old ways after more than a million years of slavery. He would have guided us, and introduced us as friends and allies, not enemies, to the peoples who had remained free, and that would have been well. But he snapped the Webspinner's strands, and went off to lose his soul in the Oblivion. He would not lead. But his child must. Arcadia needs a single ruler."

The voice subsided, but Yaenatue could feel the doubt. He smirked. There might be someone who could complete his task for him, if he waited long enough.

But it would probably be too much for that single sane time Elwen after all, and he probably wouldn't make his move until the child was born and he knew it. Then he wouldn't want to move, bound as he was by love of and belief in the child.

That's why you kill your enemies in the womb, when you can, thought Yaenatue, his eyes on the swell of his target's stomach again. You can do that, if you care about the living.

Rinata appeared to have finished her speech. She waved her arms, and spoke a few more encouraging words, and the crowd, most of whom had come to protect her and the child until its birth, started to disperse.

Time to make his move.

Yaenatue stood and started forward. At once, two triltnai saw him and ran over, gripping his arms and shouting into his face that he had to stop. Yaenatue yawned and did as they instructed, looking up as he saw that Rinata had noticed the commotion.

"Who are you?" asked Rinata, her hand on her belly again as she approached. Yaenatue thought the child would be born with one patch on its body worn smooth by her constant rubbing, if she didn't stop doing that.

"My name is Yaenatue Brighteyes," said Yaenatue. He could lie to corame, but not Elwens, and there wasn't much point in trying, after all. His name would be unknown to them. His wasn't a profession that lent itself to much notice or fame among others. "I have come to join you, and to see the child that you bear. I have heard of Maruss Freewind's noble cause, and believe in it with all my heart."

He did, too, which meant that they heard his words as perfect truth. He just had a different idea of what that cause had been than they did.

Rinata's face melted into a smile, and she held out a green hand, clasping his own pale one and crying loudly, "See, the first convert has come to us! We shall slowly reach out to the other races, and convince them to accept our future ruler."

Yaenatue bowed his head, grateful that none of them could feel emotions. They would feel his contempt if they could have.

Arcadia didn't need a ruler. Arcadia didn't need war, either, but the last thing that any true Elwen would do was bear a child with a hero's blood and then try to convince others to follow that child. Reason and compromise and conciliation were the ways to work things out, not the following of blind faith.

Yaenatue looked up into Rinata's face and sighed. He had a duty to try and make her understand that, before he killed the child.

He doubted that she would.

*****

"What first brought my name to your ears?"

Yaenatue sipped at the wine she had offered him. It was very good. Rinata sat in the chair across from him, a fine seat even though they were only in a tent and not a palace, her hands folded, as Yaenatue thought was usual, over the body of her unborn babe.

"A combination of things, my lady," he answered. "That you were claiming to be carrying Maruss Freewind's child was, of course, central-"

"I am not claiming," said Rinata, with quiet ferocity. "I manipulated time, and went backwards. I am carrying his child, who shall rule Arcadia and keep us from destroying ourselves in genocidal warfare."

Yaenatue blinked. Well. He had thought the small talk must go on at least a little bit longer, but apparently not. He put the wineglass down on the rickety wooden table that was the only other piece of furniture, beyond the chairs, in the tent and said, "Why do you think that Arcadia will accept the rule of this child?"

"They must," said Rinata.

"But why?"

"Its father was a hero." Rinata's face burned with a kind of holy fire, a fire that Yaenatue had seen before this only among the followers of Suulta, the goddess of his people. "You do not know how the memory of Maruss Freewind is revered, still, among all our kin. He freed us from slavery. The child will be a hero, too."

Yaenatue tilted his head, and let polite dissent enter his voice. "Just because a hero's blood flows in his veins?"

"Her, I think," said Rinata.

Yaenatue nodded. "Her, then. But do you think that the child will really be a hero?"

"I will raise her to be."

Yaenatue lowered his eyes. His opinion of Rinata's heroism, or rather what he thought of as the lack of it, must show too clearly if he was looking at her right now. "And still you think that there is no chance she could turn out to be cruel, or unjust? I have heard that the Lady Maana wisely kept all knowledge of her foster son's destiny from him until the last two years of his life, when he had already decided to go after the Empire himself. A child raised with the knowledge that she has a grand destiny will be very different."

"Yes. She will be better. Think what Maruss could have done earlier, if he had known about his path and had had time to train in it."

"I think that he would have been worse," said Yaenatue, lifting his eyes. He saw her start a little, and didn't think it was the emotion that filled his gaze at the moment. Not for nothing had he been named Brighteyes. The light from the tent's single lamp would be flashing on the dazzling gold flecks among the bright blue. "He would have decided that he had a right to rule."

"He did."

Yaenatue shook his head. "Without the knowledge of it being kept from him, he would not have forged a character that entitled him to rule. He would only have had the Silver Prophecy, which no one knew for certain referred to him, anyway. He would have been a spoiled child, and not the greatest hero Arcadia has ever known."

Rinata smiled at him, a calmer smile than many of his targets offered. "You think that I am doing the wrong thing, don't you?"

"No," said Yaenatue. "I know you are."

Rinata snorted, and the sound was filled with contempt. "Do you really think that I care what you think, or about your blind and fanatical certainties? It is blind and fanatical certainties that have drowned Arcadia in blood since the Lord Freewind died. I hope that you realize that, you know. You are part of the reason that so many are dying."

"They are dying because they are stupid," said Yaenatue. "And that is nothing new. Elwens were stupid before the Empire, when they didn't band together fast enough to fight the unicorns, and they were stupid in the time of the Lord Freewind, and they have been stupid since. But the way to stop those wars is to negotiate and work with those who want each other's lands, and make them see it's really for the best if they don't take them. It's not to enslave them to the memory of a man who is dead, dead beyond redemption or recall, and a man who would have hated what you are trying to do."

Rinata still smiled at him. "You didn't come to join the people trying to protect the child at all," she said.

"No."

"You came to try and kill the child."

"Yes."

Rinata stood. "She is my daughter, and you cannot have her," she said.

Yaenatue remained sitting, staring at her with that direct gaze that made so many of his opponents nervous. "She is not your daughter," he said. "She would be a playing piece, and perhaps the Webspinner, the Lady of Fate, would even catch her up and play with her as She did not manage with her father. The Lord Freewind remained Elwen to the end, which is one of the reasons why I still honor him. His daughter wouldn't be Elwen, not if she was raised to assume rule."

Rinata shook her hair. "We must do all we can to end the wars among our kindred," she said. "We must all be joined in peace."

Yaenatue laughed in spite of himself. They had told him that some of his targets would sound like this, but so far he hadn't heard someone who matched the stereotypes so perfectly.

"What are you laughing about?" Rinata demanded.

"There was once a group- not Elwen, but many of them very like- who said the same thing," said Yaenatue. "The silver unicorns. All of them said that the Great Love, as they called it, that came from ripping others' souls apart with their eyes and making their bodies into mindless slaves was peace. It would mean that the other races wouldn't make war, at least."

"We are nothing like the silver unicorns," said Rinata. "Take that back."

"You are just like them," said Yaenatue. "The Lord Freewind served the cause of liberty; his very name means that. You serve the cause of peace, and in that you are just as the unicorns were. This time, though, we see the Empire that you are trying to establish, and we will act to stop it, as our ancestors did not act when confronted with the unicorns." He rose to his feet and drew the sword that hung at his side.

"I have power over time," said Rinata. "I can age you or send you back out of time in a few seconds- or step out of this year and emerge at another time."

"Not without killing the child," said Yaenatue, coming a step closer. "I studied that very closely, you see. You can't move backwards or forwards without killing the babe, and you can't use any time magic at all without affecting her mind. A fine thing it would be, if your precious daughter, the heir of Maruss Freewind, were born dead or without a mind in her head."

Rinata moved a step backward, and then abruptly tossed her hair back and stood there, not even touching her belly now. "Destiny will stop you," she said. "The Webspinner wants this child as much as we do. She will stop the strike of your blade."

Yaenatue shrugged and drove the blade through her belly.

Rinata gasped and bent forward around the sword. Her cough became a choke, and the next moment she was writhing on the floor. She had not screamed, and so none of the other time Elwens came running. Yaenatue gazed down at her without pity.

"I did tell you," he said. "I'm sorry that you couldn't heed me."

"What- could I have done?" whispered Rinata, and then cried out and bent over the wound and the dead child it had just created again.

"Not tried to rule over Elwens," said Yaenatue. "You would have destroyed the child's will and the wills of those she would have ruled over. Count yourself lucky that only the child, and perhaps you, have died. The countless soul-deaths you would have caused would have hurt far more, in the end."

He turned and strode out of the tent.

He could see no one near him. They all seemed to be on the other side of the tent, or not even on the same hill, talking about the future they planned to bring to the warring races of Arcadia.

To force on them.

Yaenatue shook his head as he strode across the grass towards where his partner waited. He couldn't think about it too long, or he would get angry.

Jylaet stood up as he approached, nodding a little as though to affirm that he had done the right thing. "The child is dead?" she asked.

"Yes." Yaenatue swing up onto the back of the graybrute she led. "And probably Rinata."

Jylaet turned her head and glared at him. "Do you always have to be so violent? You could have set relations with the triltnai back."

"If they figure out that it was me," said Yaenatue.

"Those eyes and that name are hard to hide," said Jylaet stubbornly, even as she whistled and clapped her hands. Her own graybrute lumbered out of the darkness, and she swung herself onto his back. "You're needed at the negotiating table in Shadows next."

Yaenatue rolled his eyes. "I thought we had them. They've decided to backslide again?"

"Yes."

"Idiots."

"They're saner idiots than that pack." Jylaet nodded back towards the triltna camp. "Planning to rule Arcadia through a child."

Yaenatue nodded. "It probably wouldn't have worked, but their trying-" He shivered. "It had to be stopped."

Jylaet nodded. "Of course it did," she said. "They could have caused unimaginable suffering."

Yaenatue sighed. "Sometimes I am not so sure of the work we do," he said.

"Are any of us- ever?" Jylaet's smile warmed her face as well as her voice. "But we're doing what we think works best, and that's all we can do."

"I think that I might not want to do it any more, someday," said Yaenatue.

Jylaet shrugged. "We would miss you."

For no reason, that admission made him feel better. Yaenatue sat up straighter and nodded. "Then I think that's enough to go on with."

"For Shadows," said Jylaet, and turned the graybrute to the north. Yaenatue followed her, ignoring the cries of grief rising from the camp behind them.