Dream of a Vast Blue Cavern

Chapter 8: The Heroes Return: Medoc

 When Medoc left the throne room, he went immediately to his second in command, Luten Renault, in the mess cave. Renault was stout, short for a Flame, but a better Luten Medoc had never known. He had been left behind during the attack on Iskalon, to replace Medoc should he have been killed. He bowed shallowly, and Medoc inclined his own head very briefly in respect.

 “Have you heard of the situation in the baths, General?”

 “Just now. I am headed there. I came to tell you to organize the attack on the remaining Icers. I will take over once we are ready to attack, but for now, you will start the tunneling and scouting.” He outlined Dynat’s plan briefly, cursing it silently as he did. It was a poor tactic. Dynat had been schooled in strategy, but that was many years ago now, and his lack of experience showed. He had never tried to interfere with the details before. Why now?

 If Renault agreed with Medoc’s unspoken assessment of the plan, he did not share his reservations. “I’ll get this started right away, General. If I may ask, sir, have you had a chance to rest since the battle?”

 “What are you now, my own wife?” Medoc growled. “See to your men, Luten, I am fine.” He did not storm out of the room, but he left quickly. Did he look so bad as that? He paused in the tunnel before a long, smooth wall of obsidian, illuminated by torches. He could see his dark reflection in the wall. His mesh was in order, neatly organized in hexagons, his scale armor all coordinated and placed just right. His hair was oiled back; not a single strand fell out of place, and his mustache was trim and combed as always. Renault must be imagining things. 

 The baths were in chaos. Medoc was choking on smoke before he even reached the steam tunnel. He used T'Jas to make a bubble of clean air around his face. Dead Semija were being pulled past in carts. Young Flames covered in flaming Fireblood raced through the tunnels, excited by the intense heat and fiery eruptions. Older, more reserved Flames milled around, complaining about the interruption of their relaxed bathing. Living Semija crowded beside them, begging for healing of minor burns. Further in, he could hear several women wailing in mourning. Mourning for Semija? That was odd. Had a Flame died?

 Medoc pushed through the mass of people in the steam tunnel to the main bathing hall. Bolv stood before the communal pool, speaking with the crying women. She left them and came to meet Medoc halfway through the crowd. “Where is Dynat?” She looked tired, shocked; deep blue circles surrounded her eyes, which had a red cast—had she been crying as well? Medoc pulled her away, out of earshot of the others.

 “I am here, Kinyara, and I will have to do.”

 She nodded sharply. “Come. It is better if you see for yourself.”

 She led him past the filthy, sooty baths and up winding stone steps to the river. The Solph River seeped out of porous rock, travelled over a long plateau of thermal vents, and poured down a steamy waterfall, terminating in Lord Barrett’s pool. Lord Barrett was the Lord of the Bathing Caverns; he owned most of the baths, and the other nobles paid him tribute. Medoc looked across the rushing river where it ran over flat rock, just before plunging twenty feet down. Large, dark lumps rolled in the current and disappeared over the edge.

 “What is it?” He asked, peering closer. Bolv was silent, and he reached out with T'Jas and pulled one to the rough riverbank, dragged it to his feet. When he saw what it was, he felt ill.

 Waterlogged and half eaten away by fishes, the face was no longer recognizable, but the build, the dark hair, and the steel armor marked the corpse as one of his Warriors. The river was full of them. One after another, they disappeared over the edge of the cliff. Medoc had an image of them being scooped out of Lord Barrett’s pool, and suddenly he realized that the bodies he’d seen on the carts hadn’t been Semija at all. They were Flames.