Victor of Tucson

Victor sat in the grass beside Edeya, watching Valla, Pollo Vosh, Kethelket, Lam, and Lesh have a wild practice melee a short way down the slope. He’d already been in half a dozen brawls that morning, and it was his turn to sit out with the incapacitated young woman. It had been Polo’s idea—having “last one standing” contests once a week. There were rules, of course. Victor wasn’t allowed to go berserk; two hits from any source meant you were “out,” and, because of the wild nature of a free-for-all, no blows to the head or neck were permitted. That was just for starters; others also had limitations on their powers. For instance, Kethelket couldn’t use his full shadow speed, and Lesh couldn’t belch acid.

Victor snorted a quick laugh, gently squeezing Edeya’s tiny, limp hand in his. “He hates it when I say that, chica. ‘Belch.’ That’s what it looks like, though! He doesn’t breathe acid out in a spray. It’s more like he coughs up a big glob of the stuff.” Victor had spoken a lot to Lesh over the last few weeks, and he’d come to understand that Lesh’s decision to reject the System’s quest to kill him had been primarily because he’d witnessed Victor breathing his ancestor’s fire. Breath Cores were a big deal among Lesh’s people—they weren’t born with them and had to evolve to gain one. Once done, the stronger a dragonkin’s breath, the more respect he or she might earn. Apparently, Lesh had never seen anything like what Victor had done to Eric’s army of reavers.

Victor laughed as Polo roared in frustration, stomping off the field with his great axe hung over his shoulder. “Too many fast ones in there. I’d gain more with a long fight against that dragon friend of yours.”

“This was your idea.” Victor chuckled and patted the grass beside him. “Take a load off.”

Polo glanced at the sun, saw it was nearly midday, and shook his head. “I would, Victor, but I’m already pushing it. Rellia’s finally going to sit down with me and talk about my land grant. I’ve got family arriving in a day or two through the new portal, and we’ll be surveying for a suitable building site.”

“Oh? That’s exciting, isn’t it? I don't remember you talking about your family, Polo. Will I get a chance to meet them?”

“Aye! Of course! Perhaps I’ll invite you to see the building site, or,” he paused, eyeing Edeya’s motionless form, “if you need to leave soon, maybe when you return, I’ll have a proper dining hall and kitchen constructed.”

“Okay. Whichever works out, you know we’d love to come by. You’re right about Edeya, however. I’m hoping we’ll have world portals accessible sooner rather than later. As people come through from the cities and claim their citizenship, the advancement options on the stone are opening up quicker than ever.”

“Aye. I heard as much from Rellia when I was pestering her about my lands.” Polo squinted toward the sun again and raised his voice to be heard over the clash of weapons, shouts, and curses as the nearby fight escalated. “Tell me, Victor, what have you decided to do about your holdings? Borrius mentioned you approached him about governing for you, but he’s going to be busy with his own claim.”

“Yeah. I’d hoped he’d be interested, but he wanted farmland, and I guess Rellia put him further north, near Old Keep. He doesn’t want to split his time visiting my properties.” Victor shrugged. “He told me he’d speak to some qualified people he knew.”

“Aye, that’s why he brought it up with me.” Polo laughed, shaking his head. “Not because he thought I should do it, mind you, but because he knows I am good friends with a man named Gorro ap’Dommic—he’s currently acting as the steward for my estate near Tharcray. Well, he was until I put him in charge of its sale. He should be arriving through the Gelica portal in a few days.”

“Oh yeah? Borrius thinks he’s the man for the job?” Victor shifted, leaning back to look up at the big furry Vodkin more easily.

“Yes, and I won’t need his services on these new lands; my family and I will have things well in hand.” Polo turned toward the melee and laughed as Lam threw her hammer to the ground in frustration, stomping toward them. “Gorro is a very experienced steward. I hired him right after Lam and I cleared the Dolondric Ruins—I was flush with treasure, and he’d just left the service of a Ridonne who’d granted the estate he was managing to a cousin. He’s been at it for decades—got his start in the Legion, of course; that’s how Borrius knows him.”

“Kethelket cheats!” Lam announced, flopping onto the grass beside Edeya.

“Hah!” Polo laughed, and Victor just grinned, plucking a blade of grass to chew on. “In any case, Victor, shall I send him to see you when he arrives?”

“That’d be great. Thanks, Polo.”

“A pleasure.” The Vodkin bowed at the waist toward Lam, a comical maneuver for a man as bulky as he, and then waved. “I’m off to see Rellia, then.” As he turned to leave, he hollered at the three combatants left on the field, “Good luck!” Then, he strolled down the grassy slope toward the ever-growing settlement.

“What was that all about?”

“He’s recommending someone to be my governor. Is that the right word? He said the guy was a steward. Maybe I should be calling him that.”

“No. Not with lands as extensive as yours. The person you hire will need to manage settlements, attend political meetings, and maintain your militia. Governor is the right term.” Lam leaned forward and shouted, “That’s it, Valla! Keep his flank!”

“You want her to win?” Victor grinned around the blade of grass.

“Of course! She eliminated me, so if she wins, that makes me look better.” Lam sighed, turning to examine Edeya and lifting a handkerchief to wipe at the corners of her eyes. “This breeze is making her eyes water. That damn circlet doesn’t make her blink often enough.”

“Shit. Does it control that much? I thought her blinks would be automatic.”

“No. She’d be unconscious without it. Even her breathing is shallow and barely enough to keep her alive without it.” Lam tucked her handkerchief away and gestured toward the slope leading down to the settlement. “The stone’s level eight, and you know Rellia’s literature says we should start seeing world travel options at level ten. Will you be ready to leave as soon as it opens up?”

“Yeah, I’ll be ready. It could be sooner, you know; we’re only a few steps away on the advancement tree. Rellia’s been steering the colony's development toward our goal. By the way, I’ve been corresponding with my cousin, and she says the human colony stone is almost level twenty, but they don’t have any options for world travel yet. I guess they’ve been very general about their advancement, not focusing the way we have.” It had been a week since Victor’s first message from Olivia, and since then, they’d written back and forth several times.

“That makes sense. We’re missing many System-developed infrastructure items—we’re building our own walls, our own plumbing and sewage system, our own roads, and so much more. We could have spent advancement points on all of those things, had them done instantly and, probably, a lot more seamlessly integrated with the landscape.”

“Yeah, but we’re getting all sorts of intangible benefits going down the tree toward world travel—Energy storage, mapping, trade beacons, communication relays, the astral observatory.” Victor pointed to the enormous white tower jutting up from the sea’s edge. It looked very out of place among all the half-constructed structures, but it was undeniably awesome. Victor liked how the top was made of some kind of crystal, and he knew that the more prominent facets were lenses. He’d been in it a few times, peering through the weird brass and crystal scopes that could be aligned and moved to face the different external lenses. It was fun and interesting, but, in the end, to him, it was just like looking through a telescope, and he’d never been into that sort of thing.

Lam nodded. “That one took much of our savings, but it ranked the stone up from five to seven. Perhaps the next . . .” Lam was cut off as Lesh jogged over to them and flopped onto his back, shaking the ground enough to jostle Edeya and send her toppling backward. Lam caught her, scowling at Lesh. “Have some care, you thunderak!”

Lesh looked at Victor and narrowed his green, reptilian eyes. “Thunderak?”

“Uh, giant lizards they use to pull heavy loads.” Victor grinned, finding the moniker rather apt.

“Pardon my bulk, Lady Lam.”

Victor nudged the giant man’s shoulder with his boot. “Who got you?”

“One from Kethelket and one from the angel.”

Victor chuckled at Lesh’s nickname for Valla—Victor had started it, calling her an angel. When he’d described what he meant by the word, some of the others had taken it up. Valla certainly fit the bill with her big silvery wings and beautiful countenance. She’d paid one of the better armor artisans who’d come through the Gelica portal to adjust the enchantment on her wyrm-scale armor, giving it the ability to open holes to accommodate the wings sprouting from her back. With that armor, her shiny silver helm, and, well, everything else about her, she either looked like an avenging Valkyrie or, yeah, some kind of angel.

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“Anyway,” Lam said, pointedly looking over Lesh’s thick body toward Victor, “We just need the travel beacons, the astral cartography crystal, and the portal enclosure. Whether we need rank ten or not, I think we’ll be there soon.”

“Yeah. As more citizens arrive and we continue to collect Energy, our advancement credits build up pretty fast. Still, another Energy bead infusion might not go amiss. I’m still holding my million from the conquest . . .”

“You’ll need that,” Lesh said, rolling to his side and lifting his head on an elbow as he watched Kethelket and Valla weave their lightning-quick dance. “There’s no telling what things will cost in the world hub, and you know, the System won’t let you travel for free just because you rule these lands.”

“Yeah.” Victor sighed, shaking his head. Nothing was ever easy. “Right. Well . . . Oho! Good job, Valla!” She’d done some sort of rolling maneuver using her wings, curved before her like a moving shield, and come around behind Kethelket, giving him a swift gash on his left calf. “Is that the match?” he asked Lesh.

“Aye! They each had one mark already.”

Victor stood up and reached down to take Edeya’s hand. As he gently tugged it, she stood up—the artificed circlet she wore made her very compliant, moving with gentle prompts from her caretakers. Lam also stood and took the young Ghelli’s hand from him as Valla strutted over the grass, her sword, Midnight, resting on her armored shoulder and a very self-satisfied smile on her face. “I heard you grousing!” she laughed, pointing at Lesh, still lying like a small hillock on the grass. He didn’t respond, just grumbled and yawned.

“Nicely done, Valla.” Victor looked past her to Kethelket and nodded when their eyes locked. “Not bad for your farewell match.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Lam looked up from where she’d been straightening Edeya’s coat collar. “Your people will fly tonight?”

“Aye! We’ve resupplied and rested and are eager to begin the construction of Nighthome. We’ve three Ghelli families already committed to joining us, Lam—veterans from the conquest eager to help mend old rifts. I hope you and Edeya will visit when you’re back.”

“I’m sure we will, Kethelket. I’m just as eager to bandage over old wounds.”

“Who’s this?” Lesh rumbled, and Victor turned to follow his gaze. An Ardeni man wearing Rellia’s house livery was running up the well-worn path from the settlement.

“Hmm.” Victor frowned. “Rellia should be meeting with Polo.” The whole group grew quiet as the man made his final approach, his breath huffing heavily as he came to a stop twenty paces away.

“Lord Victor! A man is requesting you! He’s just come through the portal from Persi Gables.”

“Oh yeah?” Victor looked at the others, all staring, waiting to hear more. “See you all a bit later. If we don’t speak before you leave, Kethelket, you know how to get ahold of me.” The two of them had exchanged Farscribe books. He shook his hand, and Kethelket stared into his face, suddenly serious.

“Of course. Thank you again for letting us select such a fine location for the new town.”

“Are you kidding me? Your people earned it. It’ll be nice having such good neighbors, anyway.”

Before he and Kethelket could go further down their mutually congratulatory path, Lam called out to the messenger, “Who is it?”

“Oh, um, it’s a man from the human colony in the Ridonne frontier. Alec Green.” The messenger looked at Victor almost apologetically.

“That’ll be our ambassador from the humans,” Valla explained when she saw Lam’s blank expression.

Victor let go of Kethelket’s hand and turned to the messenger. “Let’s go, Valla; you can make sure I don’t say something too stupid.”

“You think she can save you from that?” Lam chuckled, and Lesh snorted, shifting his bulk to wink at her more easily.

“All right, all right. Don’t make me drag you both out there for a quick thrashing.” Victor grabbed Valla’s hand and started walking down the slope. He gestured to the messenger. “Lead the way.”

“Farewell!” Kethelket called.

“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep!” Lesh rumbled.

Lam didn’t say anything more, but Victor could feel her smiling eyes following him and Valla as they walked down the slope. “They’ve lost all their respect now that the war’s over.”

“Oh, don’t begrudge them their laughs. They only tease you because they know they can’t compete with you in other ways.” Valla tightened the grip on his hand and lifted it to her chest, pulling it close as she cupped it with her other hand.

“Like neither will ever have someone like you? How’d I get so lucky? Have I mentioned I love you?” Victor almost laughed when he saw the messenger’s hurried but stiff, awkward gait. He was clearly embarrassed to hear their conversation. Victor decided to spare the poor guy and change the subject, “You’ve really gotten good at dealing with Kethelket’s two-weapon style.”

“I know! He’s a difficult opponent, but I’ve made some good gains over the last weeks. It helps to have your inspiration active while we spar. Well, and let’s not forget he’s only using a fraction of his full speed.”

“Even so. Your grace with those wings is really something. I notice you’re using Midnight one-handed more and more; have you ever thought about a second blade or maybe a shield?”

“Perhaps someday. I enjoy having the option to grip her hilt with both hands for more powerful swings.”

“Well, I don’t know jack about sword fighting, so I’ll leave that to you.”

“Jack?” Valla laughed as they stepped off their gravel path onto the new cobbled roadway that led east out of town.

“Uh, it’s short for jack-shit, and no, I have no idea where it comes from.”

“Colorful.”

Victor, currently only a little taller than she, looked into her smiling eyes above her flushed, pale blue cheeks and paused to lean down and kiss her on the lips. As always, she reciprocated, and Victor marveled at his luck for the second time in just a few minutes. When he straightened up, he said, “Does my word choice embarrass you?”

“No! I love how you can sound stiff and formal as though you’re channeling Borrius one minute and then break into a string of curses that would drain the color from a soldier’s face the next.” They’d stopped, and the messenger had taken a few steps before realizing it. Victor could feel him turn to observe them. When Valla refused to look away, Victor stared into her silver and teal irises and wondered if it was true about eyes—could he see her spirit in there? He almost thought he could, which made him want to try harder, but her smile widened, and she gave him a playful shove. “Come on, Lord Victor! The ambassador is waiting.”

“Fair enough. Messenger! Where’d you leave the ambassador?”

“In the new gardens adjacent to the travel pavilion, Lord.”

“Ah, good choice. Near my travel home?”

“Aye.” He gestured to the road. “Shall we continue?”

“Proceed.” Victor laughed at his formality. He was fairly sure of the answer but asked, “Were you part of the campaign?”

“No, Lord. I’m a member of Lady ap’Yensha’s household staff. I came through the portal from Gelica.”

“Ah. Well, welcome to the Free Marches.”

The man paused, turned, and performed a short but slow, deliberate bow. “I’m eternally grateful for the opportunity to make a life here, Lord.”

When the young man turned and continued walking, Victor followed, suddenly sobered by his show of respect. He’d been about to judge the messenger, almost mocking him mentally for calling him ‘lord’ when any of the men and women who’d fought in the campaign would have been addressing him as ‘sir.’ He chastised himself—not every man or woman was cut out for war, and those who’d come through the portals to join the colony were just as valuable right now as anyone else; without their numbers, their contributions, the growth would have been much, much slower. It would have taken years to open the deeper advancement options on the colony stone.

“Something on your mind?” Valla asked, still holding his hand with both of hers.

“Nah. I just have a lot to learn, Valla. Every time I think I’m getting a grip on things, I realize how much I don’t know, how much of what I think I know is wrong.”

She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder, speaking softly, “And that makes you a good leader. The worst kinds of leaders are those who think they know everything and refuse to admit when they’re mistaken.”

When they arrived at the gardens, the messenger bowed and took his leave, and Victor led the way through the curved pathways, his boots crunching on the deep bed of round, rust-colored pebbles the herbalists, Nature Casters, and engineers assigned to them had imported. Beds of new flora—herbs, flowers, and plants of a thousand different varieties—lined the walkways, and a fountain burbled at each junction of paths. It wasn’t pristine yet; dirt and mud marred the marble steppingstones and benches, the beds were only about half planted with their future occupants, and trellises were still under construction. Still, it was a good deal more done than when Victor had decided to move his travel home in, placing it at the end of one of the far-flung paths.

They found Alec Green sitting on a bench, admiring a little fountain shaped like a bulbous flower with long thorny stems adorned with tiny, delicate songbirds. The water trickled out of the pale-yellow stone flower petals and dribbled pleasantly into the basin. Alec was a slender, average-looking fellow, but his sandy brown hair was neatly combed, his short beard well-manicured, and his soft brown eyes were full of wonder as he took in the sight of Victor and Valla as they rounded a bend in the path. He jumped to his feet, straightening the lapels on his plush, velvety gray jacket. “Victor?” He stepped toward them, holding out a hand. “I’m Alec Green from First Landing.”

Victor grinned and reached out to wrap the man’s slender hand in his own, giving it a—to him—gentle squeeze. “Nice to meet you, Alec. This is Valla ap’Yensha.” As soon as he released the man’s hand, Valla took it.

Alec smiled and stared, perhaps a little dumbstruck, into Valla’s eyes. “Nice to meet you!” Still shaking Valla’s hand, he forcefully turned back to Victor. “I’ve heard a lot about you—from Olivia Bennet and also people in Persi Gables. Hah! From the tales, I’d expected you to be twenty feet tall!”

“Oh,” Valla laughed, “sometimes he’s nearly that tall.” When she winked, Victor had to laugh—poor Alec’s face said he didn’t know whether or not he was being teased.

He decided to bail him out and change the subject. “I’m glad you’ve come to represent the other humans, Alec. I want to build a relationship with your colony, but if we can advance the stone enough, I’ll be leaving soon. It’s good that I’ll get a chance to introduce you to everyone around here before I go.”

Alec took a step back and looked Victor up and down. “You’re leaving?”

“I have a friend who needs to travel to a more advanced world, one with more world portals open.”

“Ah! Olivia said something like that in her messages, something about you all focusing on advancing your colony to open world travel.”

“Yep.”

“You couldn’t travel from one of the other cities?”

Victor sighed. He didn’t want to get into a lengthy explanation, so he tried to summarize things quickly and with some finality, “The Ridonne haven’t opened much world travel for their subordinate cities, and if I went to Tharcray and asked to use their colony stone . . . Well, let’s just say the journey is long, and I’d as likely as not start a war I don’t think we have the stomach for right now.”

“I see. Well, perhaps my proposal will be of interest.”

“You come with a proposal?” Valla asked, wrapping her fingers around Victor’s elbow, leaning into him a little while she smiled at Alec.

Alec nodded, grinning. “We’d be willing to kick in a substantial sum of Energy beads toward your stone’s development if you could do us a little favor.”

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