Even those who had conquered the known world. Even the Zaudunyani.
"So what are you proposing?" he asked, nodding in sour agreement.
"An embargo," the Aspect-Emperor replied on a pent breath. "I will forbid, on pain of death, all Cants of Far-calling. Henceforth, the Men of the Ordeal shall march with only memories to warm them."
Home. This, if anything, was the abstraction for the Exalt-General. There was a place, of course. Even for beggars, there was a place. But Proyas had spent so many years campaigning that home for him possessed a wane and fleeting character, the sense of things attested to by others. For him, home was his wife, Miramis, who still wept whenever he left her bed for the wide world, and his children, Xinemus and Thaila, who had to be reminded he was their father upon his rare returns.
And even they seemed strangers whenever melancholy steered his thoughts toward them.
No. This was his home. Dwelling in the light of Anasurimbor Kellhus.
Waging his endless war.
The Aspect-Emperor reached out, grasped his shoulder in unspoken acknowledgment. Never, in all their years together, had he promised any reprieve, any respite, from the toil that had so burdened his life. Never had he said, "After this, Proyas… After this…"
Warmth sparked through the Exalt-General, the tingle of grace.
"What will you tell them?" he asked roughly.
"That Golgotterath has the ability to scry our scrying."
"Do they?"
Kellhus arched his eyebrows. "Perhaps. Twenty centuries have they prepared-who could say? It would terrify you, Proyas, to know how little I know of our enemy."
A resigned smile. "I have not known terror since I have known you."
And yet he had known so many things just as difficult.
"Fear not," Kellhus said sadly. "You will be reacquainted before all this is through."
The Seeing-Flame fluttered and twirled before them, caught in some inexplicable draft. Even its warmth seemed to spin.
"So," Proyas said, speaking to ward against the chill falling through him, "the Great Ordeal at last sails beyond sight of shore. I see the wisdom-the necessity. But surely you will maintain contact with the Empire."
"No…" Kellhus replied with an uncharacteristic glance at his haloed hands. "I will not."
"But… but why?"
The Warrior-Prophet looked to the dark leather panels rising about them, gazed as if seeing shapes and portents in the wavering twine of light and shadow. "Because time is short and all I have are fragmentary visions…"
He turned to his Exalt-General. "I can no longer afford backward glances."
And Proyas understood that at long last the Great Ordeal had begun in earnest. The time had come to set aside burdens, to shed all complicating baggage.
Including home.
Only death, war, and triumph remained. Only the future.
Anasurimbor Kellhus, the Holy Aspect-Emperor of the Three Seas, declared the Breaking of the Great Ordeal at the Eleventh Council of Potentates. The same concerns echoed through the ensuing debates, for such is the temper of many men that they must be convinced several times before they can be convinced at all. The Believer-Kings understood the need to disperse: without forage there was no way the Great Ordeal could reach its destination. But even so early in the year, the rivers were languishing, and the new growth of spring still slept beneath the detritus of the old. As the plainsmen among them knew, game followed the rain in times of drought. What use was dividing the host when all the game had fled in search of greener pasture?
But as the Aspect-Emperor and his planners explained, they had no choice but to pursue the route they had embarked upon. Any deviation from their course would force them to winter in the wilds, rather than Golgotterath, and so doom them. Tusullian, the senior Imperial Mathematician, explained how everything was knitted to everything, how forced marches meant more food, which in turn meant diminishing supplies, which in turn meant more foraging, which in turn meant slower progress.
"In all things," the Aspect-Emperor said, "I urge you to walk the Shortest Path. The road before us is no different, save that it is also the only path. We will be tried, my friends, and many of us will be found wanting. But we will prove worthy of salvation! We shall deliver the World from destruction!"
And so the lists were drawn, and the nations of the Believer-Kings were allotted to what would be called the Four Armies.
Prince Anasurimbor Kayutas, General of the Kidruhil, was given command of the Men of the Middle North, the Norsirai sons of the kings who had ruled these lands in Far Antiquity, ere all was lost in the First Apocalypse. They consisted of the fractious Galeoth under King Coithus Narnol, the elder brother of King Coithus Saubon; the black-armoured Thunyeri under King Hringa Vukyelt, the impetuous son of Hringa Skaiyelt, who had fallen in glory in the First Holy War; the long-bearded Tydonni under King Hoga Hogrim, the quick-tempered nephew of the sainted Earl Hoga Gothyelk and awarded the throne of Ce Tydonn for service in the Unification Wars; and the far-riding Cepalorans under Sibawul te Nurwul, a man noted only for his silence during councils.
With them would march the Swayal Sisterhood and their Grandmistress, Anasurimbor Serwa, the younger sister of General Kayutas, and widely thought to be the most powerful witch in the world.
Of the Four Armies, the Men of the Middle-North marched what was perhaps the most perilous path, since it skirted the westward marches of the plain, a route that would take his host near the vast forests that had overgrown ancient Kuniuri. "This is the land of your ancient forefathers," the Aspect-Emperor explained. "Hazard is your inheritance. Vengeance is your birthright!"
King Nersei Proyas, Exalt-General, Veteran of the First Holy War, was given command of the Ketyai of the East, the sons of ancient Shir. They consisted of the javelin-armed Cengemi under indomitable General Couras Nantilla, famed for championing the independence of his long-oppressed people; the silver-mailed Conriyans under Palatine Krijates Empharas, Marshal of the fortress of Attrempus; the bare-chested Famiri under the tempestuous General Halas Siroyon, whose mount, Phiolos, was rumoured to be the swiftest in the world; the Xiangol-eyed Jekki under Prince Nurbanu Ze, the adopted son of Lord Soter, and the first of his people to be called kjineta, or caste-noble; and the white-painted Ainoni under cold-hearted King-Regent Nurbanu Soter, Veteran of the First Holy War, renowned for his pious cruelty through the Unification Wars.
Two Major Schools were assigned to this column: the Scarlet Spires under Heramari Iyokus, the so-called Blind Necromancer, and another Veteran of the First Holy War. And the Mandate, the School of the Aspect-Emperor himself, under their famed Grandmaster, Apperens Saccarees, the first Schoolman to successfully recite one of the Metagnostic Cants.
King Coithus Saubon, Exalt-General, Veteran of the First Holy War, was charged with leading the Ketyai of the West, the sons of ancient Kyraneas and Old Dynasty Shigek. They consisted of the disciplined Nansur under the young General Biaxi Tarpellas, Patridomos of House Biaxi, a shrewd tactician; the spear-bearing Shigeki levies under the indomitable General Rash Soptet, hero of the interminable wars against the Fanim insurrectionists; the desert-born Khirgwi under the mad Chieftain-General Sadu'waralla ab Daza, whose epileptic visions confirmed the divinity of the Aspect-Emperor; the mail-draped Eumarnans under General Inrilil ab Cinganjehoi, son of his famed father in both limb and spirit and an ardent convert to Zaudunyani Inrithism; and the celebrated Shrial Knights under Grandmaster Sampe Ussiliar.