Gaenor’s Prophecy Book 4: A New World Revealed

By Jonathan Edward Feinstein

The Empire of Vohnider has become more aggressive than ever and has blended high technology with magic in their push to conquer the world in the name of their gods. The magic is of a sort no one outside of Vohnider has ever seen or contemplated but now Gaenor of Narmouth and her colleagues and friends most find a way to counter it or all will be lost.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jul 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9780359789177

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Gaenor’s Prophecy Book 4: A New World Revealed

Gaenor’s Prophecy - Book 4:

A New World Revealed

by

Jonathan Edward Feinstein

Copyright © 2019 by Jonathan E. Feinstein

All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Megafilk Press, Jonathan E. Feinstein, 923 Drift Road, Westport, MA 02790

Cover art: A small volcanic eruption and landscape. Photo by Public Domain. Courtesy of GoodFreePhotos.com No date or photographer attributed.

ISBN:  978-0-359-78917-7

Stories by Jonathan Edward Feinstein

Gaenor’s Quest

The Red Light of Dawn

The Black Clouds of Noon

The Rainbow of Dusk

The Cold Clear Skies of Midnight

Gaenor’s Prophecy

Signs of Change

Corrected Visions

Inspired Dreams

A New World Revealed

The Maiyim Stories:

The Maiyim Tetralogy

World of Water

Men of the Earth

Island of Fire

Gods of the Air

Three Stories of Maiyim

A Deadly Union

An Interesting Title

A Shattered Family

Ars Nova Magica (and related side stories)

The Maiyim Bourne

The Staff of Aritos

A Promising Career

A Fine Adventure

The Tears of Methis

Freshman Orientation

The Book of Candle

Dry Dock

Ars Scientiaque Magicae

Unexpected Reactions

Hypothetical Notions

Theoretical Bases

   Lift Off!

Required Components

Experimental Proofs

Desired Results

The Terralano Venture

Agree to Disagree

By the Light of the Silvery Moons

There Goes the Neighborhood

Tales of a Dyslexic Wizard

Spelling Disabled

Rede-ing Disabled (Forthcoming)

Down Time, Ltd.

Down Time

Taking Time

Time Out

Show Time!

Double Time

A Plethora of Deities

Downhill All the Way

In the Sky with Diamonds

The Seed

The Tree

Tempting the Fates

Teasing the Furies

Inspiring the Muses

Dancing with the Sphinx: Waltz

Dancing with the Sphinx: Tango

Dancing with the Sphinx: Foxtrot

Chasing Rainbows

The Care and Feeding of Your Elder God

Stacking the Deck: Jokers

The Wayfarers

A Land without Borders

A World without a Name

A Nation without Maps

A Country without Unity

A Continent without Form

An Ocean without Charts

An Empire without Order

An Island without a Shore

The Pirates of Pangaea

An Accidental Alliance

The Unscheduled Mission

A Planned Improvisation

The Forced Alternative

Other Stories

Elf Alert!   

A Study in Ethnology

Off on a Tangent

Author’s Foreword

I will not waste too much time and paper on this foreword. As it happens, I wrote the Afterword (or should that be Postword?) a few months ago directly after finishing the rough draft and most of what I had to say is there. Skip ahead if you really must, but there is at least one spoiler there so I recommend against it.

This is the fourth and final volume of Gaenor’s Prophecy, which I originally planned as a trilogy. Strangely much the same thing happened while writing the earlier story, Gaenor’s Quest. Yes, yes, I know there are only supposed to be three books in a trilogy and, believe it or not, I can count. Apparently, however, I am not entirely capable of estimating how long it will take to tell a story. Just as in the first series, I plotted out too much to fit into a single middle volume, but at least this time I had more than a one-sentence synopsis when it came time to plot the final volume.

So, we pick up the story roughly two weeks after the final chapter of the third volume; Gaenor, Artur and their friends are still in Cilbe but the war has continued on and big changes are a-coming…

Jonathan Feinstein

April 27, 2019

Westport, MA

Prologue – Somewhere in Nundro

Is there a problem, General?

Ayame Nyima tried to keep her eyes on the horizon. Watching anything closer, she had discovered, tended to make her stomach feel like it was doing acrobatics without the rest of her body joining in. She tried closing her eyes, but it turned out that was worse. Somehow that increased the magnitude of every little bump of the wheels on the ground.

She had ridden in Nundran land yachts and land ships before, but had never gotten used to the experience. The wind blowing through her short, dark hair was exhilarating, but that sensation was always replaced rapidly by the motion sickness. For herself, she might have just leaned over the rail and let what was left of her lunch fertilize the sand and soil they raced over, but she was a leader of men and women. She had an image to maintain. Worse, she seemed to be the only one on board who was having this trouble.

Ayame swallowed and replied at last, You’ve a fast boat here, Captain.

"The Sahrali is fastest one of her class, General, the slim and muscular man replied through his beard. His hair, while just as dark as Ayame’s, was longer and tied back in a ponytail. She won a dozen races before the war."

Impressive, Ayame replied politely. The Sahrali, so far as she could tell, looked like almost every other land-yacht she had seen. It was a platform on wheels with sails. This one had some rails on the side for passengers to hold on to and had been fitted with a dozen seats, only half of which were filled at the moment. She had only one mast, rigged with a triangular mainsail, although Ayame had seen larger land ships with two masts and square-rigged sails. Those larger vessels were more to her taste; they were more sedate and afforded a smoother ride. She wondered why no one had thought to equip these vehicles with shock absorbers, but at least she had not been obliged to sail in one of those smaller one or two-person boats with only three wheels and looked like they were going to tip over every time the wind gusted a bit.

She had never seen one tip over – was it still called capsizing if done on land? She was note sure – but understood it did happen from time to time. The thought made her shiver. At these speeds it must be fatal. However, the Sahrali’s captain was keeping all four wheels on the ground. Whether that was in deference to his passengers or just the way he liked it, she was not sure.

She estimated their speed was in excess of seventy-five kilometers per hour. She had ridden in motorcars going that fast, but only on paved roads. The captain had bragged earlier that Sahrali was capable of moving at over one hundred kilometers per hour. Ayame was happy not to have to confirm it by her own experience.

Water, Ayame? General Yi, a fellow leader in the Corinian resistance, offered.

Thank you, Ayame replied, accepting a leather skin from him. Before the war she wouldn’t have known what to do with such a container, but now she opened it and squirted water into her mouth with practiced grace. It still tastes fresh, she marveled. By now mine would have tasted like the inside of a goat.

It’s lined with something or other, Yi replied. I’m not sure what. Probably some sort of wax or shellac. I bought it shortly before the war and was assured it was the latest thing for going camping.

You lived like this for fun? Ayame asked, forcing a chuckle to keep the tone of their conversation light.

No, but I was obliged from time to time to go on maneuvers with my men and women, Yi responded, and fresh water can be a luxury after a few days.

Ayame took another sip and then handed the skin back. Thank you, she told him again. She looked ahead. Is that our destination?

I hope so, Yi admitted.

Aye, Generals, it is, the captain agreed.

Ayame tried to remember how long it had been since she had first been called by that title. Her first instinct had been to deny such military ranks. She led by example and her people followed her because of that example. Eventually, however, she had tired of correcting people when they called her, General, and just let it pass.

A few minutes later the land yacht rolled to a halt outside a low building in a seemingly deserted hamlet about two hours west of Mantik. You want me to wait out here, Generals?

You may as well strike your sails and come inside, Captain, Ayame told him. There will be food and drink inside and we may be here a few hours. Get some rest, talk with your fellows. Some of our meeting will likely to open to you. You may have insights we do not."

Aye aye, the captain replied. I’ll just move her over to where those other boats are parked. He pointed up the street to where several other land yachts had been secured. Ayame and Yi nodded, reached into the boat to grab their bags and then went inside the ramshackle building.

The interior belied the impression one got from outside. This hamlet had been taken over by the Corinian Resistance and while, from the outside it looked like no one had been there in years, the inside had been well-maintained. It was illuminated by candles and oil lamps. Ayame was uncertain there had ever been electric power here – she had seen no powerlines along the way, but otherwise it almost seemed like an oasis from the barbarism they had been forced to endure since the Vohnidans had invaded the Far South.

Ayame thought back. When all this started and Taopolis had fallen, the survivors of the Vohnidan conquest had been badly demoralized. Many civilians still were, but the Resistance had enjoyed a number of significant victories that even the Vohnidan priests could not hide from the populace. The Corinian Resistance, although, strictly speaking, it was as much a Tindi and Nundran resistance movement as it was Corinian, had been enjoying an upswing in recruits and hope was starting to grow once more, especially here in Nundro.

When General Yi gave his report, an hour later, he had to admit, Corinia continues to endure the harshest repression of the three Far Southern nations. There are more Vohnidan priests and soldiers there than elsewhere.

Understandable, General Kochar of Nundro commented. Everyone knows Corinia is the center of scientific and engineering enlightenment for the World.

Or was, Yi corrected him, before the war. Now Taopolis is in rubble and those who did not evacuate before the invasion were all moved out of the city by the Vohnidans. The people there now are captives who have been force-marched southward from Wanlaria and Gostrina.

Good people from civilized lands, someone commented.

Yes, Ayame agreed, but they are being forced to do manual labor, not rebuild the University. I understand many of them were farmers and factory workers before the war, not scholars nor engineers. Good people, as you say, but displaced from their homes and as badly downtrodden as any of our own.

Has anyone reached out to them? A Tindi officer, General Tsung, asked.

We have made some tentative contact, but the Vohnidans do not trust them and keep them well under their feet, Ayame replied. It is difficult to establish a regular dialogue.

What of the Corinian scientists and engineers? someone else asked, the ones who were not evacuated or who were captured when they tried? Where are they now?

Vohnider has what they euphemistically refer to as ‘Centers of Holy Research,’ General Yi replied. Anyone with a higher education from Corinia, Tindi or Nundro who was captured ended up in one of those death camps. There they have been forced to develop and test new weapons for Vohnider. We have liberated those we could, but most of those centers are deep within Vohnidan territory where we have been unable to penetrate.

So, they are collaborators?

They are slave labor, Ayame replied harshly.

There are always one or two who try to ingratiate themselves to their captors to be sure, Yi cut in, but for the most part they are truly being forced. Also, keep in mind that not only are they being forced to work for Vohnider and being worked to death for their efforts, but the products of their work is being simultaneously tested on them. The first to breathe the new mustard gas, for example, were the men who invented it. Vohnider has no gratitude for its slaves.

Is that why there have been fewer innovations from Vohnider as of late? Kochar asked. They are running out of inventors?

That may well be, Yi nodded gravely. Very short-sighted of them, but maybe they have finally run out of new horrors to inflict on the World. I believe General Tsung was going to report on the closure of several known research centers.

Well, you seem to have done that for me, Tsung agreed with a grin, but yes, I can confirm that much. After several battles with their mustard gas, rockets and cannons, it is hard to imagine much worse.

I am afraid, then that I do have bad news, General Kochar told them. He turned to a young woman and introduced her, This is Captain Eliani of Nundro. She has just returned from Karkominia. Captain, please repeat what you were telling me earlier.

Yes sir, Eliani saluted and then turned to the rest of the assembled. The Vohnidans appeared to have developed a form of cannon far more advanced than any we have seen up until now. Perhaps cannon is not the correct word, but for the moment it will do. These new guns are big. Really big. They weigh over a dozen tons and have barrels that are nearly five meters long. Worse yet, they fire premanufactured shells similar to but more advanced than the cartridges that we learned were developed in Mishanda and Nimbria. Also, they are loaded from the back of the cannon barrel, not the mouth, which means they have devised a way to load and fire with greater rapidity than ever. If that is adapted to their hand-held weapons… well, they will have a great advantage. The new guns are fired on a high arcing trajectory and have a range of ten kilometers or more. Yes, their rockets can do the same, but these new guns are far more accurate.

How many of these guns do they have, Captain? Yi asked.

Only seven that we know of, sir, Eliani replied.

They sound too big to be useful, one of the Tindi officers commented. Do you have any idea of how heavy such weapons must be. Is there any engine that could move them?

They are transported in pieces, sir, Eliani reported, and even so they are moved fairly slowly. However, they are currently headed northward toward Gostrina although it is possible some may be destined for Wanlaria or Maxforn.

Then we are safe from them for now, one of the Nundran officers commented.

We may be, Ayame considered, but our allies to the north are not. Word must be sent to all allies immediately and we must do anything we can to slow or stop the progress of those weapons.

Part 1 – Cilbe

One

Gaenor of Narmouth had never had the chance to go shopping in the great Forum of Cilbe. She had neither had the time nor opportunity on her previous visits to the city. The only other time she had even been in the Forum had been during the brief time Artur had been Dictator of the Cilben Empire. That time every shop had been closed; first because of the fighting and then, later, because of damage incurred during the fires that had been set by Emperor Lusius’ erstwhile guards.

All around her and her companions, Cornellya Vasylya and Mnierri Kashantu – Vieri from the Parch and the Island of Ichtar respectively – Gaenor’s niece, Pahlia and her mentor Verika, were shops of every sort. Clothing, jewelry and all sorts of exotic foods could be purchased in the Forum and the most prestigious offices could be found there as well, but that was not what interested Gaenor or any of her friends. Their mission was to explore the book stores of Cilbe, the best of which could be found right here in the Great Forum.

Gaenor had already purchased several dozen volumes on a multitude of subjects and arranged to have them sent to her home in Mishanda but there were still a few more shops she hoped to visit. The Great Forum was not the only major business district in the city of Cilbe, and it was only the third largest. There were two newer fora elsewhere in the city that dwarfed this one, but this was the one mentioned in all the history books, although in a sense it was not the same forum.

The Great Forum had been rebuilt many times over the centuries and had fluctuated in size and orientation as new buildings – businesses and temples – were added, demolished or remodeled. An hour earlier, Gaenor and her companions had spoken to a team of archaeologists who had been digging a trench on the north side of the forum and learned that since it had been established the center of the Great Forum had not moved much if at all. In its current configuration the Forum seemed to have nearly the same footprint that it had half a millennium earlier when it had been at its maximum expansion. The archaeologists had proudly shown them several silver coins they had recovered from two thousand years in the past and the remains of a ceremonial axe that had once been standard issue to members of the Imperial Guard. She had asked what would become of these artifacts they explained they would be placed in the Museum of the Academy of Cilbe and the better examples would probably be put on display after they had been thoroughly examined. The conversation was nearly as valuable to Gaenor as the books she had purchased that afternoon and she made a mental note to herself to discuss the establishment of archaeological studies in Mishanda with historians on the faculty of the University there. It was possible, she knew, that such studies had already commenced, but if so, she felt they ought to be represented in the various scholastic journals she published.

One more bookstore later, they were crossing the Forum when Gaenor spotted a familiar face two dozen yards away. Tallicia! she called out.

Drusa Tallicia Vaenor turned at the sound of her name and smiled when she spotted Gaenor. Tallicia was the granddaughter of one of Artur’s old friends and had inherited the family business from her grandfather although she and Gaenor had first met at the public baths in the city of Wahton on the eastern frontier of the empire. Gaenor smiled, recalling that was the first time she had taken the plunge in the baths’ frigidarium. It was an experience she had not repeated frequently since then, having been satisfied to cool off less precipitously after soaking in the steaming hot water of the caldarium.

Gaenor! What are you doing in Cilbe?

I might ask the same of you, Gaenor shot back and then spotted Tallicia’s husband just behind her, Hi, Marcus. You’re looking well.

Thank you, my lady, Marcus replied formally. Tallicia came to make sure my uniform fits me.

Uniform? Gaenor asked.

I have been recalled to the Seventeenth Legion, Marcus replied. By now I would have thought I would be considered a bit old to serve, but apparently I am needed.  The promotion to Praefectus Cilbenius, roughly equivalent to a Mishandan Major, is flattering, but it is an honor I would gladly not have to accept. Still, my country needs me.

I wish you well, of course, Gaenor told him and gave him a hug. Stay safe.

Not likely, Marcus laughed ruefully, but then stopped as he caught sight of the distress on Tallicia’s face. The real reason Tallicia came to Cilbe with me is because she has some information the generals may find valuable.

And you do not? Mnierri asked, speaking for the first time since Gaenor had spotted Tallicia. Marcus turned slightly to face the Vari. A slight flicker of unreadbale emotion passed his eyes. Mnierri thought she understood. A Cilben would call her a Parchite. Although Mnierri had lighter skin than most Vierri who lived in the Parch, she was the same species and had the same slightly pointed, elf-like ears. To Cilbens, and most humans for that matter, Vierri were fantasy creatures and no more real than, say, unicorns. Even though Marcus had met both Mnierri and Cornellya, his earlier education continued to tell him they could not be real. It was a reaction Mnierri and Cornellya had experienced before although most humans with whom they reacted had only seen them as shorter than average women. Mnierri did not take offense. She knew she might have the same reaction were she to encounter a gremlin in real life.

I do, Marcus confirmed, but I know it second-hand from Tallicia. It’s best if she reports directly. I hope to get her an appointment with my general this afternoon.

Why not talk directly to my uncle? Pahlia asked. She had an unusual voice. It was slightly reedy and yet musical to the ear. She had been born both mute and deaf. On her last visit to Cilbe, Gaenor and her companions had cast a spell that allowed Pahlia to both hear and speak. Like most artificial substitutes for what should have been natural, her abilities in both were limited. She could not hear as wide a range of sounds as most people could and her voice had been simulated using a Cilben reed flute. That last had given her a slightly greater vocal range than most people and since then Pahlia had been learning to sing.

Your uncle? Marcus asked.

Pahlia is the emperor’s niece, Gaenor told him and then realized she had neither introduced Pahlia nor Verika. And this is Verika Geary, originally of the Thimdra States, but now a promising Academic.

Pleased to meet you, Marcus replied automatically.

And you, sir, Verika replied in a voice as unique as Pahlia’s. Verika had also been born mute and had been granted a voice by Cornellya. However, when casting the spell, all Cornellya had to use was a blade of grass stretched out like a reed between her thumbs held side-by-side. To simulate a voice, she had blown across the blade of grass. It left Verika with a distinctive voice and one that she had learned to use clearly, but it was not a musical one by any means. She had agreed to help Pahlia use her new voice and the two women had bonded, becoming the closest of friends.

We’re staying at the palace, Gaenor told them. We can get you a direct audience with Colchicus.

As great an honor as that would be, Marcus replied, I am to report to my legion within the hour. Tallicia, you should go with them. We should still be able to meet for dinner.

Come to the palace when you can get free, Pahlia invited him.

Marcus looked tempted and then Verika added, I’m sure your general would allow you to keep an appointment with the Imperial family.

He would probably insist on joining me, Marcus nodded.

He would probably learn what I have to say soon enough in any case, Tallicia admitted. I wanted to visit the Temple of Sellae first, however.

We have time, Gaenor assured her.

Perhaps I should report for duty now, Marcus suggested. He kissed Tallicia lingeringly and then promised, I’ll see you later.

He seemed anxious not to visit the temple with you, Cornellya observed, or am I reading more in to this than I should?

Men do not generally worship Sellae, Aunt Cornellya, Pahlia informed her. She is the queen of the gods, after all.

Women are allowed in the temple of Jube, Gaenor pointed out. I have been there once myself.

Oh, men are allowed in Sellae’s home, Tallicia laughed, but very few ever leave her an offering. I had not expected Marcus to be an exception. Shall we visit her now?

Why not? Gaenor replied. How does one pay their respects to Sellae?

Tallicia did not answer that directly, but instead told them an old myth about how Jube courted Sellae by various means, but He eventually succeeded in winning her heart by transforming himself into a field of flowers And that, Tallicia concluded, is why we offer Sellae flowers when we visit her temple.

What sort of flowers? Mnierri asked. looking ahead, she saw they were less than a block away from the temple. There were dozens of flower venders between them and Sellae’s home.

Any sort you feel are appropriate, Tallicia replied. It’s the color of the flower that makes the difference. The most frequent offering is a white rose. White is a neutral color. It’s for when you are not asking for anything special from the goddess but merely wish to show her honor. I plan to offer a red rose, for example. Red is for when you ask Her to protect the one you love.

Pink is also for love, Verika added.

Ah, pink! Tallicia smiled. Pink is for Sellae to bring love to you, whether it is someone you know or have not yet met. Yellow is for friendship and so on. There are more obscure colors, but as I said, white is the most common offering. One should only ask something of Sellae if you truly need it.

They perused the various flower venders and each woman chose a flower she found appropriate. Cornellya and Mnierri each purchased a white rose, but Gaenor chose a white lily because the flower reminded her of some of the flowers in her own garden, and Verika found a small spray of jasmine flowers. No one had to ask why when Tallicia chose a red rose, but none of them had noticed Pahlia’s purchase until the teenager placed a violet lily on Sellae’s altar.

Violet? Cornellya asked her some time later as they walked back to the palace.

For profound thanks for something you already have, Auntie, Pahlia replied with a smile. I’ve been offering violet flowers to Sellae since your last visit. Cornellya did not have to ask why. It was obvious that Pahlia truly appreciated the ability to hear and talk.

Two

For me, business is booming, Tallicia replied when Emperor Colchicus inquired politely. My grandfather arranged some very long-term contracts with your Legions so I have suffered no shortage of orders to fill since the war began.

That’s what you get when a retired quartermaster sets up a business, Artur chuckled.

True, Tallicia nodded. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for other Cilbens. Most people I know are having to do without a good many things they were used to before the war. We all know it is for the good of the Empire. Even Marcus and I have been making sacrifices that, strictly speaking, we did not have to. First of all, it’s bad form to flaunt one’s wealth and even worse form to do so when others are suffering. Most businesses are not doing as well as they were. There is not enough to sell and not enough money to buy what is there. We are making do, of course, but anything beyond what we need to survive goes into the war effort.

I commend the patriotic attitude, Colchicus told her, but is there something you can think of that the Empire can do for its loyal citizens?

Bring this war to an end soon, I suppose, Your Serenity, Tallicia responded. No, no! I understand that is exactly what you are trying to do. Please, however, allow me to tell you what I have learned as someone engaged in international trade.

I would appreciate that, Colchicus assured her, but why don’t we wait an hour or so. I am meeting with my military advisors shortly and I think we would all like to hear you.

Tallicia agreed and Gaenor pointed out it would give them time to refresh themselves in the Palace’s baths. As usual, Gaenor avoided the dip in the cold water at the end of the bath although none of the others did. Then it was Pahlia who suggested they may as well dress for dinner as it would be a formal occasion this evening.

Maybe I’ll just make my report and dine in town with Marcus, then, Tallicia told them. My other clothing is at the hotel and I did not really bring anything formal with me.

I’d like you to stay, Pahlia told the woman. I know the palace has clothing for visitors to wear on such occasions. Some of it might be from last decade, but those styles are currently in fashion in some of the distant provinces. Maybe in your own Wahton too?

Well, Tallicia considered, I always did say everything came to Wahton ten or twenty years after the rest of the empire got it. All right. I’ll stay.

It surprised Gaenor a short time later when Pahlia appeared in a dress very similar to the one that had been found for Tallicia to wear. Gaenor knew it must have been as far out of current style as the older woman’s dress, but it was a remarkably hospitable gesture for Pahlia to perform and she told Pahlia so.

It is nothing, Pahlia shrugged off the compliment. Most of the people outside my family still think of me as the deaf, dumb girl who wouldn’t know any better. Before I could hear, none of them realized I could read their lips and knew what they were saying about me. I think that’s why I liked you from the start. You didn’t know and just talked to me. You treated me like an equal, not some poor unfortunate to be pitied and ignored. Anyway, my mother tells me the clothing we loan out here in the palace is the sort that is never too far out of style. The palace dressmaker is careful not to produce the more extreme styles.

It was still a nice thing for you to do, Gaenor told the teen.

I like Tallicia, Pahlia admitted. I’m not sure why, since we just met, but I do and this is the sort of thing we do for friends, isn’t it?

Gaenor had to agree and was about to say so, but just then Colchicus chose to bring the afternoon conference to order. Just then a late arriving general entered the room along with Marcus who was now in uniform. He greeted his wife as warmly as they had departed before holding a chair for her at the bottom of a long conference table.

No, no, Praefect, Colchicus stopped him. I understand your wife has a report for us. Please join us at this end of the table. He indicated a pair of chairs just two places from the table’s head. If Marcus was surprised by the egalitarian gesture, no one else in the room was. Colchicus had made a habit of ranking people at his meetings based on the importance of the information they had to share. Marcus, of course, was not aware of that, having only met the emperor once before and in a far less formal setting.

Also, around the table, Gaenor recognized Leracus, the chief of the Ridec Clan of the Temi and his Dectar counterpart, Chief Cillia. Several of the generals looked familiar to her, but only because she had sat in on Colchicus’ conferences before and there were three senators whom she knew. She wondered if she should recommend that Colchicus consult with some Academics who had studied military history as well, but decided that studying history might not be as important as being up to date on the modern military technology. Everything had been changing so rapidly in the last few years. History might no longer be a guide. Not being certain herself, she decided to keep that recommendation to herself.

Many of the generals and senators also had adjutants or assistants stationed close behind them, most took seats on the perimeter of the room as did three Temi honor guards, one each for Leracus and Cillia and also Leracian was present to represent the honor guards normally assigned to Artur and Gaenor. Gaenor suddenly realized she had not seen Casia in over two weeks. Casia was the Dectar woman who had assigned herself to honor guard duty for Gaenor although Gaenor had managed to get her to confess she had really done it in order to be closer to Leracian. Gaenor knew it was none of her business, but she approved of the match. Casia was not the usual Temi honor guard. She was more open in her emotions and occasionally was a little clumsy, but she and Leracian worked together well. Leracian had always, in Gaenor’s experience, worked alone. With Casia nearby he had