The Awakened: Book Two

Jason Tesar

Published by 4shadow Publishing at Smashwords

Copyright 2008-2010 by Jason Tesar

Books One through Three are available in a single print edition at most online retailers. For more information, visit http://www.jasontesar.com

Scripture quotations taken from the Authorized King James Version, Public Domain, 1611

Quotations taken from the Book of Enoch, Not in Copyright, Translation by R H Charles, 1917

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The History and Prophecy

(a)…the angels which kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation…wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness forever.

(b)And it came to pass when the children of men had multiplied that in those days were born unto them beautiful and comely daughters. And the angels, the children of the heaven, saw and lusted after them…

(c)And they were in all two hundred; who descended.

(d)And all the others together with them took unto themselves wives, and each chose for himself one, and they began to go in unto them and to defile themselves with them…

(e)…taught men to make swords, and knives, and shields, and breastplates, and made known to them the metals of the earth and the art of working them…

(f)There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown.

(g)…whose height was three thousand ells, who consumed all the acquisitions of men. And when men could no longer sustain them, the giants turned against them and devoured mankind. And they began to sin against birds, and beasts, and reptiles, and fish, and to devour one another's flesh, and drink the blood…

(h)…and as men perished, they cried, and their cry went up to heaven...

(i)Therefore, I will raise up one from among those you despise. And I will awaken his eyes to the mysteries which I have hidden from men since the foundations of the world. His feet will I make to tread upon the paths of destruction and his hands to make war. He will uproot the seeds of corruption which you have sown throughout the earth. And then you will know that I am the Lord and my justice is everlasting.

The Book of Enoch 6:1-2(b), 6:6-8(c), 7:1(d), 7:2-6(g), 8:1(e), 8:3(h)

The Epistle of Jude 1:6, 1:13(a)

Genesis 6:4(f)

From the writings of Ebnisha(i)

Chapter 1

The feeling of falling was gone, replaced by a suffocating presence. Adair was conscious of his limbs moving sluggishly around him. At first, there was only the feeling of pressure against his body. Then his skin began to detect temperature.

I’m cold!

The awareness that he was under water suddenly dawned on him and caused an initial panic. But his years of conditioning as a soldier took over. He stopped struggling in the water and held still, trying to determine which direction was up. A bubble escaped his lips and rolled sideways across his face, telling him the way to the surface.

He opened his eyes and felt the stinging saltwater. At first, his vision was cloudy. Then a flashing light drew his attention to his left. He turned his head and peered through the darkness.

There was another flash of blue light that turned white at the edges, illuminating something next to it. As Adair watched, the object moved.

It was the head of some creature.

Adair suddenly felt vulnerable and kicked his legs hard. He grabbed at the water and pulled himself upward. Without being able to see, he had no idea how fast he was swimming, but it seemed too slow.

Something crashed hard against his head and he winced, letting out a mouthful of air. Instinctively, he lashed out with his hands and felt a smooth surface above his head.

I’m trapped!

Again, panic threatened to overtake him.

He glanced in all directions, then noticed that the darkness was less intense to his right. He moved toward it and as he did, the water began to grow lighter. He swam faster. Then the light was above him. He swam upward again, but this time, nothing was blocking him.

Starved of air, he began to move the air from his mouth down to his lungs and back again. It didn’t help, but seemed only to distract his body from the fact that it would soon drown.

Faster and faster he swam and the light above grew more intense. He looked down into the darkness below and could now see a black shape coming up through the murky water beneath him.

He kicked his legs harder, then looked again.

The dark creature was gaining on him. Bubbles were coming from its distorted face, as two long fins propelled it through the water.

Adair looked up and saw the surface. He was only ten feet away, but it felt like a mile.

He broke through the surface into a hazy sunlight that instantly blinded him. He gasped for breath, taking in large quantities of air. Without the benefit of sight, he randomly chose a direction and began to swim as fast as his limbs would carry him, dreading that at any second he would be pulled under by the creature below.

It took only a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. To his surprise, he saw land.

That’s not possible! I shouldn’t be anywhere near land.

He turned around and saw that he was in the center of a muddy bay, roughly a mile across. There was land on every side, covered by lush, green vegetation.

Then he saw the creature. It was only ten yards away, its head sticking out of the water. Light reflected off one giant eye at the center of its black face. Its breath hissed in and out. All of a sudden, another head popped out of the water…then two more.

There’s four!

Adair turned and swam for the shoreline. His heart was racing from both fear and exhaustion. Though he struggled with every ounce of his being, his progress seemed terribly slow.

Something grabbed his ankle from behind.

Without looking, he kicked hard and broke free of the grasp.

A second later, something clamped down hard on his legs.

Ready to fight to the death, he spun around and punched the head of the nearest creature with all his might. The hit landed on the side of its giant eye and it reared back.

Adair’s hand exploded with pain and he knew instantly that he had broken bones.

But he was free again.

He backed away quickly, grabbing at the water to get some distance between him and these things, whatever they were.

The one that he punched reached up to its head with two arms and began to pull its face apart.

Adair flinched in horror, then stopped.

It was a man. He was removing something like a shield from his eyes and lifting it over his head. He spit out something from his mouth that was connected to a rope running over his shoulders. His head was covered in a tight black fabric of some sort, with an opening that only revealed his dark-skinned face, now covered in blood from a gash in his forehead.

The man spoke harshly in a foreign tongue.

Though Adair didn’t understand the language, he could tell that the man was cursing.

The other man who had grabbed him, turned around and raised one hand into the air, waving it back and forth.

Adair looked over the man’s shoulder and could see a dark shape floating on the water a hundred yards away.

Is it a boat?

Then, there was a bark, followed by a faint growling sound that got louder as the boat raced across the water. Adair watched in amazement. I’ve never seen a boat move this fast. What’s driving it? There’s no wind. I don’t see any oars. What kind of boat is this?

The growling ended abruptly as the boat veered to the starboard and came to a stop. The wake moved past Adair, lifting him slightly as he treaded water.

A man aboard the boat stood up. His strange clothes were mostly green, with patches of different colors all over. He wore pants and a tunic that covered his arms all the way to the wrists. He yelled at Adair in the same language that the other men had used. Then he waved his hand and beckoned Adair to come to him.

Adair kept still.

The man aboard the boat reached for something hanging from a strap around his neck. He raised it to his shoulder with both hands, then leaned his head to the side and closed one eye.

He’s aiming!

Adair looked at the object in the man’s hands. If it was a crossbow, he couldn’t see the arrow, or a bow string for that matter. There was nothing intimidating about it. There were no sharpened points, nothing to impale him. He thought briefly that he should be alarmed, but somehow he was not.

A few seconds of silence passed as the man peered at him through one eye.

Then the man moved his weapon a few inches to the left. A flash of fire exploded from the weapon, accompanied by ear piercing claps of thunder in rapid succession.

The water next to Adair burst into numerous fountains, reaching up to the sky. Adair flinched. When the water settled, he looked back to the man in the boat.

He was still aiming his weapon. With one hand, he waved for Adair to come to the boat.

This time, Adair obeyed.

When he neared the boat, another man reached down and grabbed hold of his tunic and pulled him from the water and into the boat. He dropped Adair to the floor, then backed away toward the stern.

Slowly lifting his head, Adair noticed that there were a total of three men. The other two also had similar weapons on straps around their necks, pointing them in his direction.

Adair looked to the empty prow of the ship, then back to the men. They want me to move. He obeyed, moving cautiously. When he had gone as far as he could, he stopped, leaning against the soft side of the boat.

What is this? The boat appeared to be made from a pliable skin of some kind, stretched over a rigid structure of bones. He had never seen anything like it.

A low growl startled him and he turned toward the stern.

Two of the men were still pointing weapons at him, while the third was sitting down and holding on to a handle.

That must be the rudder control!

Without warning, the boat lurched into motion and Adair fell to the deck. When he adjusted to the motion and regained his footing, the two men guarding him looked suddenly tense.

It should have worried Adair, but instead, it comforted him. He had seen the same thing, time and time again, with inexperienced soldiers who guarded prisoners. Any sudden movement brought them face to face, in an instant, with the prospect of having to kill a man. Most of them just froze with a look of intensity on their faces.

…just like these men.

Adair couldn’t suppress the smile that came to his face.

But this only angered one of the guards, who started cursing at him.

Adair turned away and looked out across the water. It seemed as though they were skimming over the surface of the ocean, faster than any horse could run. The constant growling from the back of the boat told Adair that it was somehow linked to their movement. He had no idea where he was or what he had gotten himself into. These men were not the same as the ones he encountered off the coast of Bastul. As he looked around, everything was foreign. He didn’t recognize a single feature of the landscape.

He retraced the events in his mind, running from the enemy soldiers and ending up in that large cavern. He ran across the bridge over the moat and onto the circular stone area. That’s when he started to feel a great pressure upon his body. Then he was in water.

What happened? Am I dead?

Then he looked down. His sandal hung uselessly from his right foot. He raised his foot slowly and looked underneath, seeing the deep gash that was still bleeding. His two small toes were numb and unmoving.

Well at least I haven’t gone insane!

They reached the shore in only a few minutes. The growling sound lowered to a whisper and the boat coasted in the shallow water, coming to an abrupt stop on the dark sand. One of the men jumped into the water and moved around to cover Adair’s flank, aiming with his weapon. The other man, also pointing his weapon, nodded for Adair to get out of the boat.

Adair stepped cautiously over the prow and onto the sand.

One of the guards walked up on to the bank and started toward the forest.

Adair followed, with the second man behind him, aiming at his back.

The third man turned the boat and headed back out to the middle of the bay.

A few yards ahead was another strange sight—an iron chariot with thick, black wheels. It too, was green, just like the guards’ clothes. Adair couldn’t tell which end was the front; there were no reins and no horses. One end of the chariot had a large flat area that looked like it was made to carry cargo. This was where the men herded him, pushing him forward while keeping a tight grip on their weapons.

Adair climbed into the chariot and sat down on the deck.

One man followed him into the cargo deck and sat against the railing.

The other man climbed into another tight compartment where there was a chair of some sort. Reaching down, he touched something in front of him and the chariot barked like a dog, then proceeded to growl in a similar manner as the boat, though the pitch was lower and sounded more powerful.

Adair stared in fascination. Was there an animal inside of this chariot? Or was it something worse? Perhaps these men were sorcerers and moved about by demons. As it jolted into motion, Adair lost his balance again, but quickly realized that he was at the back of the chariot. After only a few seconds he was amazed. The ground would have been impassable to any other chariot he had ridden in. But somehow, this one rode over the ditches and holes in the road as if they were sitting on a cushion.

As they ascended the shore of the beach, Adair took note of his surroundings. Trees were down all along the shore and the low vegetation was covered in mud. In fact, it looked like this shoreline hadn’t been a shoreline for very long. Looking back at the bay, Adair could see that the vegetation ran all the way to the water, and even into the water in some areas.

Flood, he concluded. This water hasn’t been here for very long.

Moving uphill away from the water, the muddy terrain gave way to a wide, smooth road. Adair looked down and noted the black surface that spread for perhaps twenty feet on either side of them. There were no cobblestones. The chariot picked up speed on the smooth terrain and Adair scooted closer to the deck as he began to feel unsafe.

Shades of green flashed by as they nearly flew through the forest, made up of trees with leaves bigger than a man’s torso. Occasionally, they passed an open meadow with grass taller than a man. The air was incredibly humid. He remembered his first such experience when being stationed in Bastul. He and Maeryn had moved to the coast from the mountainous inland terrain in the north and noticed a difference in the air. But this was different. It was as if the air was actually wet. Adair wondered if it rained in this foreign place, for it seemed that the ground would always be full of water. And that explained why the trees and other plants were as big as they were.

They rode for nearly an hour, winding through the forest, all the while climbing. Adair became mesmerized by the rhythm of the chariot and the passing trees. He was exhausted and could have fallen asleep in an instant. But a sharp popping sound brought Adair out of his trance as he instinctively flinched. The popping was immediately proceeded by a horrendous squealing as the chariot skidded to a stop on the road.

Adair grabbed hold of the railing to keep from being thrown to the side. Out of the corner of his sight, he sensed movement. Before he could react, the guard at the head of the chariot seemed to flinch as one side of his head exploded in a shower of blood. His body slumped sideways in the seat.

Adair turned to his right and looked at the thick treeline on the side of the road. There was nothing but a tangle of vines and thick leaves.

The guard next to him pointed his weapon into the trees. It flashed with fire and jolted in the soldier’s hands as he waved it back and forth.

Adair covered his ears and lowered himself below the railing.

As he watched the guard, plumes of blood sprouted from the man’s back as his body convulsed. The life left his eyes and his body dropped to the deck. Adair could see small wounds on the man’s chest and wondered how something so small could kill instantly.

Adair’s heart beat quickly in his chest and the fear of being chased returned. He peered carefully over the railing and was shocked by what he saw.

Man-shaped objects were moving slowly out of the trees. But it was as if they were partially invisible. Adair squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. As they spread out, he could see that they were men wearing multi-colored clothing that made them blend in with the forest. He counted five of them and they had now formed a semi-circle only twenty feet from the chariot.

Adair ducked down below the railing and tried to think of how to get out of this situation. After only a few seconds, one of them yelled something. Adair stayed where he was, listening.

Again, the man yelled something.

The language was foreign to Adair, but sounded different than his former guards. There was also no hint of anger in the voice, which was again different than the guards. Nevertheless, Adair stayed where he was.

A few seconds later, a face peered over the rear of the chariot. It was a man, but like none he’d ever seen before. He wore a hat with a brim that was curled upward on one side. His skin was smooth and multicolored, like his clothes, with patches of brown and various shades of green. But his eyes looked normal and despite the strange situation, Adair didn’t detect any danger.

The man spoke again, quieter this time, and waved for Adair to come out of the chariot.

Adair rose to a crouching position, looking around the chariot. The other four men were standing at ease. They also had the strange looking weapons hanging from straps around their shoulders and necks. They were pointed at the ground and only being held casually.

Again, the man at the rear of the chariot waved for him to get out.

Adair stood up and made his way to the man, who backed up and waited.

When he reached the ground, the man said something to him, but Adair didn’t understand.

Then the man pointed over Adair’s shoulder at the other men who had started walking along the road. Adair understood and followed as the group leader walked behind him. After several minutes, a low thrumming sound could be heard. When they rounded a bend in the road, Adair stopped, frozen with fear.

The low thrumming sound was now like a hundred chariots, coming from a giant beast that hovered over the ground in a nearby clearing. It was like an enormous green locust, with buzzing wings that lifted it off the ground.

The group leader pointed at it and said something.

Adair shook his head in protest, but four of the other men were already starting to walk in that direction. Again, the leader pointed.

Against his better judgment, Adair obeyed. Perhaps it was because he knew that he really didn’t have a choice. Whoever these men were, they were able to kill quickly and efficiently, and that was something Adair could respect.

The men moved without hesitation, only the leader hung back with Adair. As they neared the beast, still exuding the deep pulsing sound, it became more difficult for Adair. Then, a door opened in the side of the locust, and another man in a helmet reached out his hand from the inside.

Adair realized that like the boat and the chariot, this was another method of transportation. He watched in fascination as the first four men climbed into it.

The fifth man now stood behind him, waiting.

Adair swallowed the lump in his throat and walked forward, taking the man’s hand and climbing into the belly of the beast.

The fifth man quickly followed.

Adair followed the example of the others and sat on the padded benches that lined the interior. Suddenly, the locust rose into the air and Adair felt his stomach began to twist. They were already thirty feet in the air before the man in the helmet shut the door.

Adair leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying to fight the nausea in his gut.

Someone touched his leg.

Adair opened his eyes and the group leader was looking straight at him and shaking his head from side to side. The man pointed two fingers at his own eyes and then pointed out the window of the beast as he spoke in his foreign tongue.

Adair understood, and kept his eyes open, looking out the window. After only a few seconds, he felt better. Then he realized that the feeling was something like sea sickness. It was better to be above deck than below where you couldn’t see anything.

Adair watched the trees fly by below them.

We’re flying, he realized!

The group leader said something and Adair turned.

The man repeated the phrase and Adair thought he heard something recognizable. One of the four words sounded like a greeting in an ancient tongue, before the establishment of the Orud Empire. It was the word for welcome.

Again, the man repeated the phrase.

“Welcome Soth Am…” Adair attempted, mimicking the sounds.

The man smiled, then repeated the phrase.

Adair listened carefully, then imitated the words. “Welcome to South America.”

All the soldiers laughed. Adair had no idea where South America was, but he knew that it was nowhere near Bastul. Somehow, he knew he was in a different world altogether.

Chapter 2

The streets of the market district in Bastul were teeming with merchants and their customers. Hundreds of people clamored to find the best deal or offer the best service, screaming over one another’s voices. Maeryn and Aelia stood under a yellow silk shade, searching through piles of rich fabrics. Silk, satin, wool, and linen were all arranged neatly in stacks, organized by color. Aelia, now sixteen years of age, pulled a roll of ocean blue satin from the stack in front of her.

“What about this?” she asked her mother.

Maeryn looked up and examined the fabric, reaching out a hand to feel the quality. “That’s perfect,” she replied. “Even the pattern would go well with this,” she said, lifting her arm which was draped with pure white linen. “Hang on to that, but keep looking.”

“Alright,” Aelia replied, tucking the roll under her arm.

As Aelia turned around to continue the search for the makings of her coming-of-age dress, Maeryn was struck by how beautiful her daughter was. Her wavy chocolate colored hair fell to the middle of her back. Aelia preferred not to braid it or wear it gathered on the top of her head, as was the current trend. She always kept it loose and the look was even starting to catch on with a few of her friends. She had brown eyes just like her father and some of his other facial features as well. And like Kael, Aelia had inherited her mother’s lean frame.

Kael.

As soon as the thought came, a pang of sadness gripped her heart. It seemed like so long ago, but she never failed to remember the pain.

“My lady,” someone behind her called. Maeryn ignored the voice, always having a difficult time keeping anonymous when she went into the city.

“My lady,” the voice repeated, from closer than before.

Maeryn turned around and searched the crowds. Just inside of the bustling street stood a woman that looked just as ordinary as everyone around her, but Maeryn’s heart jumped in her chest. She recognized the lady as a messenger for the Resistance movement, though Maeryn usually dealt with someone else to carry out her correspondence. She immediately spun around and called to Aelia. “I’ll be right back.”

Aelia waved without taking her eyes off the fabric in front of her.

Maeryn strode quickly over to the woman and nodded for her to follow. After fighting the swarms of people moving up and down the street, the pair made their way to an alley between a meat seller and a masonry building.

“What is the meaning of approaching me in public?” Maeryn barked at the woman, unable to contain the fear in her voice.

“I’m sorry, but it was necessary. Your main contact has been captured.”

“My…” Maeryn stopped, unable to formulate a question with all of the thoughts that suddenly collided in her head.

“He was bringing a message to you when he was taken into custody. Your husband has not been to see him yet, but the soldiers sent for him almost an hour ago.”

Maeryn swallowed hard, struggling against the panic that threatened her sanity. “What do they know?”

“Nothing yet, but the torture hasn’t begun. My lady, he will protect your identity with his very life,” she offered as a consolation.

“Yes, I know,” Maeryn replied. “But you don’t know my husband; he will find a way to make him talk.” Being cruel is one of the only things at which he is proficient.

The woman only nodded her head. “I must go now. I don’t want to put you in any more danger than necessary.”

“Thank you,” Maeryn said and watched as the woman walked down the alley and melded back into the crowds.

After paying for the fabric, Maeryn took Aelia back to the mansion and left her in Zula’s care. She had to call upon her acting skills, which had been honed by years of practice, in order to keep from drawing Aelia’s suspicion. But inwardly, fear and panic were building. If Lemus managed to get any information out of her contact, Maeryn’s life would come to a swift end. Of that, she was sure.

Just over an hour after the woman had approached her in the market district, Maeryn was seated in a carriage, making her way west along the foothills to the north of Bastul. The stone road separated the farms on her right from the ocean cliffs on her left. It was a slow journey, but it was the only way that the Governess could travel without drawing attention to herself, and privacy meant just as much as speed in this situation. Maeryn would much rather have raced out of the city on horseback, but that wasn’t practical.

After what seemed like an eternity, the carriage turned off the road to the north and onto a dirt path that divided two fields. Maeryn’s heart quickened with anticipation of the coming meeting. She had suspected long ago the identity of the Resistance leader of Bastul, but had never seen fit to confirm it. Now she had no choice. Her time of secrecy with Lemus was coming to an end and she had to act quickly. If this meeting went as she hoped it would, the Resistance would offer her and Aelia refuge and passage out of the city.

The carriage bumped and bounced its way to the northern end of the enormous estate. Finally, the main house came into view, and Maeryn smiled at the rustic beauty of the place. The main house was a stone structure that seemed to enjoy spreading out in the openness of its rural habitat. It had a tiled roof and branched off in many directions like roots of a tree, searching for water. Behind the house, several smaller buildings contained the stables and slave quarters. In the distance, row upon row of citrus trees marked the beginning of the orchard.

The carriage came to a stop fifty feet from the main house on a graveled path that circled a small stand of trees before heading back out to the main road. Maeryn, eager to be rid of the uncomfortable transportation, immediately opened the door and descended the steps before the driver or guards were able to help her down. She took a few steps to stretch her legs before looking back to the soldiers who were now scrambling to join her.

“It’s alright,” she waved at the men. “I’m fine.”

Almost immediately, a slave came out of the main entrance and walked toward Maeryn. As soon as she was close enough to recognize the Governess, she bowed her head.

“I’m here to speak with the Commissioner,” Maeryn called out, not wanting to waste any time.

“Yes, my lady,” the woman replied and turned around, walking quickly toward the house.

For a moment, there was complete silence, or as close to it as Maeryn had heard in a long time. Occasionally, a gust of wind would blow through the nearby trees or a bird would chirp, but mostly silence.

“Please stay with the carriage. I won’t be long,” Maeryn told her guards, before heading toward the house.

Before she reached the entrance, a man came out of the house with his arms stretched wide. He wasn’t an old man, though his hair had turned completely white. He was wearing a white linen tunic draped with a white cloak over one shoulder. It was a formal outfit, usually saved for appearances at public meetings. “Governess…why…you must be exhausted. Won’t you please come in out of the sun? Can I get you something to drink perhaps?”

“No thank you,” she replied. “I’m not thirsty. Besides, I’ve been sitting for the last hour. I would however welcome a stroll in your orchard.”

“Certainly,” he said with a smile. “May I join you?”

“Well, I should hope so,” Maeryn said, laughing. “I came to speak with you.”

“Of course. Please come, it is lovely this time of day.”

The two walked in silence until they reached the start of the orchard, a small but elaborate iron gate with vines woven through the decorative bars. The Commissioner led Maeryn through the gate and along the right side of the orchard where the ground was shaded by a row of tall eucalyptus trees. The air smelled sweet and fresh and somewhat eased Maeryn’s anxiety. Still, her growing concern caused her to break the silence.

“I’m sorry to disturb you.”

“Oh, it’s no bother. Your visit could never be a disturbance.”

An awkward silence passed as Maeryn tried to compose her thoughts, but to no avail. She couldn’t seem to start the conversation.

The Commissioner looked at the ground, recognizing Maeryn’s struggle. “Well, I assume you have something important to say, otherwise, your words would not be so carefully chosen?”

“Yes,” Maeryn replied. “I just don’t know how to say it other than to be completely direct. So I guess that is what I will do.”

The Commissioner nodded his head and waited.

“Thaddius, I know who you are.”

“Of course you do,” he said with a smile.

“No. I mean that I know you are the Resistance leader here in Bastul.”

Thaddius stopped walking and turned to look Maeryn straight in the eye. “My lady, I beg your pardon,” he said, the jovial nature now gone from his voice.

Maeryn realized that she had called him out without exposing herself. Suddenly, she knew what she had to say, but it felt awkward to speak it out loud. “I’m your contact on the inside. I’m the one who has been helping the cause.” There, she said it, and there was no way to take it back.

A silent moment passed as Thaddius stared into Maeryn’s eyes. Then, his features softened into a smile. “I’m shocked that it is you…or any woman for that matter. Apparently your instincts are better than mine.”

Maeryn felt instant relief. With Thaddius’ confirmation she suddenly realized why Adair had so little conflict with the Resistance during his rule. Thaddius had been Adair’s social Commissioner, handling the non-military responsibilities of governing Bastul. “How have you been?” she asked. “I haven’t seen you since Adair’s disappearance.”

“Yes, I know. My…responsibilities have been steadily declining since then. It seems that your new husband considers himself an expert in all things. And that includes the social needs of the citizens of Bastul. So, I am no longer needed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Maeryn replied. “But it makes sense when you consider the increase of Resistance activity since Adair ruled.”

“Do you think it’s obvious?” he asked suddenly.

“Oh no,” Maeryn replied. “Lemus doesn’t know your identity…yet!”

Her last word caused a visible change in Thaddius’ body language. He suddenly looked tense. “What do you mean yet?”

“Well. I guess this brings me to the point of my visit. My main contact was intercepted earlier today. When I left Bastul, they had…”

“Yes, I know,” he interrupted. “If that is what you mean about the threat to my identity, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Thaddius. Forgive me for my rudeness, but I’m not concerned about your identity. I’m worried about my own. Now, you may think that your messengers are well trained to keep things hidden, but you don’t know Lemus. He is the cruelest man I’ve ever known. And now that the key to all his frustrating dealings with the Resistance resides in his jail cell, he will find a way to get the information that he needs.”

“So what do you suggest I do? Have the messenger killed before he can talk?”

Maeryn was immediately repulsed by the idea. Although, she had to admit that it would solve the issue. “Can that really be done?”

“Not at this point. He is too heavily guarded,” Thaddius answered, without a trace of hesitation.

Maeryn thought for a second. “Can the Resistance offer safe passage out of Bastul for me and my daughter?”

Thaddius’ jaw dropped. “But that would undermine everything that we’ve worked for. You are the key to the whole plan.”

“Yes, but the plan can’t succeed if I’m dead, now can it?”

The two stared at each other for a few seconds before Thaddius turned away and continued walking. Maeryn hadn’t realized that they stopped until that moment. As she caught up with the Commissioner, he spoke in a sad tone.

“It won’t be immediate. I’ll need some time to make arrangements.”

“Of course,” Maeryn offered. “Anything you could do would be appreciated.”

“My lady, I’m not going to do this for you. I will do it for the cause. Maybe you can still be of use somewhere else. But understand this,” he said, turning to look her in the eye. “The Resistance will not succeed unless its members are just as willing to give their lives as any Orud soldier would for the Empire. Until we reach that point, we are condemned to struggle.”

Maeryn tried to look back into those fierce eyes, but the man’s conviction made her feel small.

“Go back to your home,” he said. “I’ll send an escort as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” Maeryn replied, not knowing what else to say.

* * * *

The rain fell softly, but steadily, causing the leaves of the forest to twist and dip with the weight of each droplet. Through the patchy clouds, the rays of the afternoon sun appeared as solid as tree trunks, reaching down to touch the earth. Kael adjusted the hood of his cloak to keep the rain out of his eyes so he could watch the ground, anticipating where his horse would step. This particular terrain, a ridge of crumbling rock that ran down from higher inland areas and ended at the eastern coastline ninety miles north of Bastul, would have been treacherous during normal weather, but the rain complicated matters. It took nearly half an hour to safely descend the path that ended at a smooth shoreline. Once the horse’s hooves touched the wet sand, Kael nudged the animal and it sped to a gallop.

No longer concerned with the ground underfoot, Kael let his thoughts drift. The rain stopped and only the cool, damp air remained, blowing across his bearded face. He loosened the hood of his cloak and immediately the air caught the leather and pulled it away from his head. Without the restraint of a covering, Kael’s blonde hair—now reaching to the middle of his back—fluttered in the wind. He drew in a deep breath as his mind returned to a time past.

The long blades of grass were dancing in the wind, swaying in unison. The air smelled of a sweet fragrance and Kael wasn’t sure whether it was the woman sitting in the grass in front of him, or the purple blossoms on the trees behind her. She had a smile on her face, revealing her perfect white teeth and soft lips. Her skin was smooth and golden colored, in beautiful contrast to her straight black hair, which was also dancing in the wind. Long wisps blew across her face as she tried to tell Kael something funny, but there was no sound. She gracefully reached up and moved her hair out of the way, laughing at the hopelessness of the situation. Kael reached his hand toward her, beckoning her to continue, but she only tilted her head toward his hand.

Kael’s eyes snapped open as he tried to shake off the sense of loss and the associated pain. Needing a distraction, he grabbed hold of the reins and kicked his horse into a run.

As the day wore on and the sun dipped behind the trees to the west, Kael sighted something emerging from the forest less than two hundred yards away to the south. He steered his horse just inside of the tree line to his right as a precaution, and continued forward. It took only a moment to see that it was the mainsail and mast of a ship.

As he neared, his heart began to beat more quickly, knowing that what he was witnessing was cause for alarm. The boat, which had now entered the ocean from a river outlet, was long, sitting low in the water, with a high prow that curved like a talon toward the sky. Its hull was polished for speed through the water and its crew was a motley assortment of rough-looking men. It was a Syvak warship, and it wasn’t the only one. Kael counted twenty-one gray sails before the trees and rocks upriver obscured his view.

As he watched from the security of the forest, another six vessels came nimbly downriver to join the others in the sea. When all were present, the agile fleet turned to the south and caught the full force of the wind in their sails. Within minutes, the enemy ships were no more than discolorations on the ocean’s horizon.

Kael kicked his heels into the flanks of his horse and the animal burst into a run. As he leaned into the beast and prepared himself for a rough ride, his mind raced with explanations. The Syvaku used to live throughout the southern territory of what is now part of the Orudan Empire. After being driven from their land, they settled in the lands far to the southwest of the Empire’s boundaries and gained an infamous reputation for their brutal raiding of the coastal cities. But it had been many generations since the Orudan Empire established its dominance in that part of the world. It was from these very people that Kael’s mother was descended. In fact, Kael’s own name had its origins with the Syvaku. To his knowledge, no one had even seen them in the last fifty years, let alone in this part of the Empire. Whatever their intentions, they were headed south for Bastul.

Chapter 3

The night dragged on as Maeryn waited in anticipation for the escort that Thaddius had promised. She hadn’t heard from Lemus yet, which meant that he hadn’t gotten any information out of the captured messenger. Still, Maeryn’s heart had been racing for most of the day and now her exhausted body refused to stay awake any longer. Despite her worry, she fell asleep only seconds after her head touched her pillow.

Maeryn awoke to the sound of knocking. She didn’t know how long she had slept, only that her slumber had been fitful. She jumped out of bed and raced to the door, pulling it open.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, m’lady. There is a man at the gate who claims to have a delivery of fabric for you,” the guard stated, obviously skeptical.

“Yes. They were to send it as soon as they received their shipment. Let him in immediately,” she replied, hoping her explanation quieted his suspicion.

The guard left, returning after a few minutes leading a tall, dark haired man carrying a bundle under his left arm.

The guard nodded and Maeryn returned the gesture, indicating that she was alright to be left alone with the man.

“Please come in,” she said to her guest. “When I requested to have it immediately, I didn’t intend for you to come at this hour. The morning would have been fine,” she said to him, loud enough for the retreating guard to hear.

The tall man smiled and walked into Maeryn’s bedroom.

Maeryn shut the door behind him and turned to see the man toss his bundle on the bed. “That was smart.”

“I was told you were in the market district this morning, so I thought this would sound believable.”

“Well, it seems to have worked,” Maeryn said with a smile. “So, what is the plan?”

The man paused for a moment, staring at her before replying. His expression disappeared quickly, but Maeryn saw the disappointment in his face. “It’s to look like a kidnapping. I have a few men waiting to cause a disturbance at the north courtyard gate. While the guards are distracted, we will ride through with horses from your stables.”

“Aelia will come as well,” Maeryn stated.

“Of course.”

“Then how will it look like a kidnapping if the three of us ride through the gate?”

“You will have to be tied…both of you,” he spoke plainly, not showing any regard to Maeryn’s position and the courtesies that she was used to.

Maeryn looked over to the bundle on the bed.

“No,” he said, anticipating her question. “I knew the guards would search me.” He then lifted his cloak and revealed a thick rope belt around the waist of his tunic.

“Where do we go after we get through the gate?”

“We will travel quickly by the north road into the mountains and then cut back to the west, making our way to Thaddius’ land.”

“That’s it? Has he no other plans than that?” she asked.

“Those are my instructions. Although, I heard that Thaddius was making arrangements to have a boat ready for you in Nucotu, but that’s all I know.”

Maeryn turned from her kidnapper and walked toward the balcony, trying to hide the tears that were welling up in her eyes. Now that the time had come, she felt herself immobilized with fear. It was one thing to plan and write letters to people, but it was quite another to take the only surviving member of her family and run from the Empire aided by a group of criminals. All of a sudden, it seemed too much for her to bear.

Leaning on the railing, she breathed in the fresh night air and tried to calm herself.

“M’lady?” the escort questioned, using the appropriate address for the first time since their meeting. “We don’t have time to waste. This is a dangerous mission and we must leave at once,” he argued, following her out to the balcony.

But Maeryn was no longer thinking about the logistics of escaping. Instead, she stared down into the city as her eyes began to glow with the reflected orange light of fire. There were foreign ships in the bay that brought memories from her childhood. She watched as fires began to spread from the bay throughout the water district, lighting up the night sky. The battle was too far away to see individuals, but she could make out the bouncing light of torches being carried through the streets by running men. To her right, a collection of torches gathered together and soon, a building was burning. She stood motionless for a few minutes, trying to digest the vision before her.

“We’re under attack,” the escort said, and Maeryn nodded in response.

Suddenly, all of her anxieties washed away and a plan began to form in her mind. No longer was she concerned with escaping Lemus’ wrath. The battle that raged before her eyes was the perfect distraction that she had been waiting for. And the more she thought about it, the better she felt that it wouldn’t be necessary to abandon her years of carefully laid plans.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“What?” questioned her would-be kidnapper.

“Oh I hope Thaddius is thinking what I’m thinking,” she said, more to herself than the man beside her. “This is it. Tonight we will all evacuate the city. Look. The soldiers will have their hands full.”

“But…we don’t even know what is happening!” the man protested, still looking down into the city.

“What does it matter? It is happening and it’s perfect for our needs.” The moment the words came out of her mouth, she knew they sounded cold and devious to this man, but she didn’t care. In fact, she knew that she lacked the compassion she once had, when she was with Adair. Times had changed, and so had she. When she looked back to the city, the only emotion she could feel was excitement for the enormous trick that was about to be played on the Empire.

“Go now, as fast as you can to Thaddius and tell him that we must move tonight. I will send up the signal as soon as you leave.”

“But…m’lady…”

“Go now,” she ordered. “Any second now, guards will come and take me to a safe place and I will be unable to escape their protection. You must hurry!”

The man took a few steps backward and paused, a smile spreading across his features. “I had hoped that I would live to see this day. Thank you for not abandoning us!” Then, he turned and ran for the door.

Maeryn turned back to look at the city, trying to gauge how fast the skirmish would reach her hilltop estate. So far, it looked as though the water district was the center of the confrontation. But war was unpredictable. Adair had taught her that. It could be minutes, or it could be hours before her life was in danger.

Maeryn turned and left the balcony, walking through her bedroom and taking a narrow spiraled staircase to the right of her door. The stairs wound through a dark passage and opened into a small enclosure on the roof of the mansion. Just as she hoped, she was alone on the rooftop. She left the enclosure and walked to the middle of the flat, gravel covered roof and stood at the base of a wide flagpole, carrying the Orud standard. With a few quick glances to make sure she was alone, Maeryn untied the rope at the base of the pole and let the flag drop to the ground. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, but she pushed aside her fear and continued with her mission, acting out the motions that she had practiced a hundred times in her mind.

Untie the knots, starting at the top.

Turn the flag over.

Thread the rope back through the holes.

Tie the knots again, starting at the bottom.

Then, as quickly as her hands would move, she pulled on the other end of the rope that led to the top of the flagpole and watched as the standard of Orud rose into the night, turned upside down. As soon as the dishonored flag reached its limit, Maeryn tied off the rope and ran back for the safety of her house.

Descending the spiral staircase, Maeryn saw a shadow of movement across the wall. Whoever was there was standing outside her bedroom, waiting. Maeryn stopped and moved to her left, against the wall. She held her breath, despite her urge to gasp from the exertion of running. If it was Lemus, then her life was over. She might be able to keep away from him if he chased her up the stairs, but where would she go once atop the roof? Maeryn tried to think of a way to escape, but her panic overwhelmed her ability to think. She stood against the wall, frozen with fear.

“Mother!”

Maeryn drew in a deep breath, wondering if her ears had heard correctly.

“Mother,” Aelia called again.

“Aelia,” Maeryn cried, running down the last few steps and into the hallway.

“Mother, what’s happening,” she asked. Her expression of concern resembled Adair.

“We have to leave. We’re in danger.”

“What’s going on?” the young lady questioned.

“The city is under attack and we have to leave.”

Aelia looked around and then returned her gaze to her mother. “I’ll call the guards.”

“NO!” Maeryn shouted, surprising even herself. “The guards won’t be able to keep us safe. We must go by ourselves where we’re not expected.”

“Okay,” Aelia replied, trusting her mother completely. “What about father?”

Maeryn paused, the question catching her off guard. “He’ll know what to do. It’s his responsibility to defend the city.” Maeryn knew it wasn’t much of an answer, but she didn’t want to lie to her daughter. More than I already have.

Without waiting for her daughter to reply, Maeryn grabbed Aelia by the arm and ran down the hallway, her mind racing with plans to escape the guards and leave the city.

Six miles south of the guard tower, the northern boundary of Bastul, Maeryn crouched behind a bush along a dirt road. Aelia and dozens of escaped slaves waited a mile to the west, in the forest that covered the foothills. They were being guarded by armed soldiers of the Resistance movement. It was their planned rendezvous point for the evacuation, and with every passing hour, more slaves could be seen running in a crouched position along the side of the road, darting between the foliage for cover.

The sky was lightening to the east, though the sun couldn’t be seen through the trees. It had been a while since anyone had come up the road, and Maeryn’s body was getting stiff from the awkward posture. Or maybe it’s the lack of sleep.

Suddenly, the sound of a galloping horse could be heard. Maeryn pulled her head back from the road and lay on her belly at the base of the bush, trying to hide herself as much as possible. Seconds later, an Orud messenger raced by on horseback, the hooves pounding into the earth in front of Maeryn’s face with an intensity that could only be brought about by war. As the rider faded away to the north, the forest returned to silence once again. Maeryn waited for several minutes before getting back to her feet, to continue the waiting.

Two hours later, after directing another fifteen slaves from the road to the rendezvous point, Maeryn decided to head back to the hidden camp. They were supposed to meet at sunrise and she had waited more than an hour longer than agreed. She started up a small dry creek bed created by rain runoff. Finding a footing in the soft sand was difficult, but the jagged narrow path was free of underbrush, making it the only viable passage. After several minutes of slow progress, the sound of a breaking twig brought Maeryn to her hands and knees.

She waited, listening intently for another sound to tell her whether or not she was in danger. Then, the face of a young Resistance guard peered through the trees.

“M’lady,” he whispered.

“Yes. I’m coming back.”

“He’s already at the camp.”

“Who? Thaddius?”

“Yes, m’lady.”

Maeryn got to her feet once again and struggled up the hill, knowing that questioning this guard any further would not tell her why Thaddius hadn’t come by the agreed route. She decided to save her questions for Thaddius himself. Letting the young man take the lead and the task of clearing a path, Maeryn followed, making much better time than she had on her own.

A half hour later, Maeryn and the guard crested a small hill and descended into a sparsely wooded valley. Hundreds of slaves and dozens of Resistance soldiers were gathered in a clearing near a cluster of boulders. Mothers were hugging their children. Fathers were crying tears of joy. And the soldiers stood around the perimeter of the clearing, their emotionless faces a direct contrast to the situation, though Maeryn understood perfectly why these men weren’t rejoicing as well. They knew, as she did, that their journey had only begun.

“Where is Thaddius?” she said to the nearest soldier as they neared the camp.

A guard pointed to the right side of the camp where Maeryn could see a waving arm. Apparently Thaddius had already spotted her. Maeryn raised her hand in acknowledgement and pushed past the crowds toward him. When the two met, Maeryn sensed his excitement. His face had a tense, but lively expression.

“Why didn’t you come by the road?”

“I had intended to, but I had no choice. The barbarians attacked from the west as well.”

Maeryn’s eyebrows went up. “Your farm?” she asked.

“They burned it,” he said flatly. “We barely escaped. We had to wait in the foothills for hours before it was safe to move. So…” He nodded toward the group of slaves and soldiers that had been his traveling companions. “Here we are.”

Maeryn looked around and caught sight of Aelia pushing her way past a group of men with tears in her eyes. Ajani was close behind. She turned back to Thaddius and opened her mouth to speak, but the white-haired man interrupted.

“Maeryn, I must tell you that I am very much relieved by your decision to continue with the plan. As unfortunate as this disaster is for many, it was brilliant of you to recognize the opportunity within the situation.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled, distracted by the sight of Aelia. “Excuse me for a minute please,” she apologized.

Turning away, she came face to face with her crying daughter. “What’s the matter?”

Aelia turned to Ajani and the slave stepped forward. “M’lady. Mother has not arrived yet.”

Maeryn looked into the eyes of the severely scarred young man and saw the determination that had become as distinguishing a part of his person as his wounds. “Go find her, but be quick. We will be leaving soon.”

“Thank you, m’lady,” the slave replied, running away as fast as he could.

Actually, Maeryn corrected herself, he’s no longer a slave. He’s a free man. With Aelia comforted at her side, Maeryn turned back to Thaddius who had been waiting patiently. “So, are we still planning to march north?”

Chapter 4

Dacien Gallus, Captain of the Guard for the city of Bastul, leaned against the side of a stone building in the heart of the Market District, or what was left of it. Only the stone structures still remained; everything made of wood had been reduced to ashes the previous night. Dacien and his standard bearer were all that was left of a contingent of cavalry that had been roaming the streets of Bastul, cutting down any barbarians in their path. But something had gone wrong. The barbarians had organized themselves and set an ambush for the soldiers, trapping them in an alleyway before chopping the legs of their horses from underneath them. Most of the soldiers were slain in the alley as well. Two more were picked off during the retreat. And now, the Captain and his standard bearer, who was bleeding from a fatal wound to his abdomen, found themselves trapped against a building, surrounded by five barbarians. In a matter of minutes, he would be alone.

They were howling like dogs, pounding their weapons on the street to intimidate the soldiers. Dacien had long ago lost the strength to lift and swing his sword, though he was doing his best not to show his weakness. He had been fighting since midnight, and the sun had risen over an hour ago. The sound of their guttural noises had turned from frightening to annoying and Dacien was about to make his last desperate attempt to leave this world fighting.

Unexpectedly, the savage on the Captain’s right side fell forward to the cobblestone street, a battle-axe lodged in his back. Dacien risked a quick glance to see who had thrown the axe and the angry barbarians looked as well. Twenty yards away stood a man who could have been mistaken for one of the savages at first glance. His blonde hair fell well past his shoulders and his beard was gathered into a thick braid which reached a handbreadth past his chin. He wore loose fitting trousers and a tunic, both of an indistinct color, giving him a foreign look, but much different than the savages who turned to face this new enemy.

Dacien watched as one of the barbarians ran toward the stranger, raising his double-bladed axe. As the savage approached with a level swing, the man stepped inside of the blade’s arc and grabbed the handle of the axe, pivoting on his right foot. The barbarian, bested by his own momentum, lost his grip on the axe and tripped over the stranger’s outstretched leg, falling backwards to the street. The man turned quickly and buried the head of the axe into the barbarian’s chest.

With two of the five dead, Dacien began to hope that his luck had changed. The Syvaku, however, were enraged by this new threat. Another barbarian, the largest of the group, shouted a few harsh commands and the trio immediately split. Leaving only one man to deal with Dacien and his companion, the other two began to stalk their new enemy, spreading wide to cover each flank.

Dacien tightened his grip on his sword and prepared for his own confrontation, but the barbarian in front of him was clearly more concerned about his fellow raiders. Returning his gaze to the stranger now standing in the middle of the street, Dacien watched in fascination as the man calmly waited for the barbarians to approach.

Suddenly, the man burst into action, springing to his right to pull a spear out of a soldier’s dead body.

Within seconds, the barbarian leader closed the distance, but the stranger whirled the spear around his body and struck the butt of the weapon against his enemy’s knee. An audible crack sounded as the barbarian’s shattered kneecap forced him to his knees. In an instant, the stranger darted past the kneeling enemy, running the blade of his spear across the man’s throat before spinning around to confront the next.

The barbarian in front of Dacien, who had been growing more uncomfortable by the minute, turned away from the wounded soldiers and began to run down the street in the opposite direction.

Dacien smiled at his new-found freedom, but was startled when the retreating barbarian was struck in the back with a spear and fell to his face on the cobblestones. Dacien turned back to the skirmish on his right, surprised to see the stranger facing his bloodthirsty enemy unarmed.

The barbarian circled, swinging his crude sword from side to side as he closed in.

The stranger waited patiently, stepping backward with caution. Then he burst into motion and rushed the barbarian, striking quickly with two kicks. The first struck the barbarian’s hand, dislodging his weapon. The second collided with his face, knocking the large man back a few steps.

The barbarian quickly shook off the pain and growled like a dog. His fury empowered him as he dropped his shoulder and ran toward the stranger, yelling at the top of his lungs.

But the barbarian’s agile enemy sprung from the ground, driving his knee into the man’s face.

Dacien’s jaw dropped as he watched the large man stumble backwards with blood gushing from his nose. The stranger didn’t hesitate for even a second as his foot struck out like a snake, crushing the barbarian’s windpipe.

After falling back to the street, it didn’t take long before the savage stopped his gasping.

“Are you men alright?” the stranger called to Dacien.

Looking down to his standard-bearer seated against the building, Dacien was disappointed to find the man’s head slumped forward. He turned back to the blonde-haired stranger. “I’m afraid it’s too late for my friend, but I’m alive thanks to you. Tell me how I can repay you.”

“Just answer one question,” said the stranger. “Where can I find the Governess?”

“The lady Maeryn?”

“Yes.”

Despite the man’s actions, Dacien couldn’t help but feel distrustful of this stranger as soon as the question was spoken. “If I knew for certain, I wouldn’t tell you. But since I don’t know, there is no harm in telling you that the lady and her daughter disappeared from their estate sometime last night after the Syvaku attacked us.”

“I’m sorry…did you say ‘daughter’?”

“Yes. Miss Aelia,” Dacien replied, watching the stunned look on the man’s face.

“Was it the Syvaku?” the stranger asked.

Dacien hesitated, but could see the concern in the man’s face. “We don’t think so. The lady had a visitor late in the evening, a man delivering something she purchased earlier in the day at the market. We only allowed him inside at her request. An hour later they were reported missing. We think they may have been taken by the Resistance.”

“I have to find them,” the man stated simply, turning to look up the hill to the east.

“There are no clues in the mansion, no way to track them. I had several men searching all evening and they found nothing,” he offered, hoping to save the man the trouble.

“I must go,” the man replied, turning to walk away.

“Wait,” called Dacien. “What is your name?”

“Ka…Caleb,” the man answered, turning around.

“Well, Caleb, my name is Dacien Gallus. I am Captain of the Guard. I’ve never seen anyone who can fight like you. If you don’t find what you are looking for, I could use your help. The remainder of the Syvaku are retreating to the farmlands north of here and I need every able-bodied man.”

The stranger nodded and turned away, heading for the Governor’s estate at the top of the hill.

Dacien smiled, while rubbing the muscles in his right arm. He noticed the man’s hesitation when he asked for his name. He thought the man almost said Kael. Dacien remembered hearing stories many years ago of the Governess’ son and his confrontation with Lemus. But the child had been put to death. Dacien’s curiosity was peaked, but he would have to save his questions for the next time he crossed paths with the man. And he had a feeling it would be soon. Watching him fight the barbarians had been like watching a choreographed dance. He won’t find anything at the mansion. And when he realizes that his searching is in vain, he’ll come looking for a fight.

* * * *

The crunch of Ajani’s footsteps on the gravel of the courtyard was a lonely sound. His plan was to check all the outlying buildings first and then head to the mansion. However, after checking the storehouse, tool shed, and the soldier’s quarters, he was beginning to think the estate was deserted. He made his way to the stables and could immediately hear the buzzing of flies. His stomach cringed at what he might find. Walking through the open doors, he could see blood flowing from the stalls on either side of the room, pooling in the dirt walkway that divided the building in half. He continued on, glancing briefly in each stall, only to find the same sight. The horses’ throats had been slashed by the barbarians, the animals left to die in the very cells in which they slept.

He pressed on, making sure to be thorough in his search. Entering the last stall on the left, Ajani fell to his knees, unable and unwilling to stop the tears that poured down his face. A primal scream emanated from his throat and escaped his mouth, shattering the air. The sound was almost completely unfamiliar to him. He could only remember one other time in his life that he had reason to scream the way he did now. But the scars on his face and body, evidence of that incident, seemed insignificant to what lay before his eyes.

The sight of the tunic, the familiar and unmistakable fabric, covering the form lying face-down in the straw, gripped his heart. The clothing was torn, her skin cut and bruised.

BARBARIANS!

Her hunched posture told the story of unspeakable acts, her failed attempt to crawl away from their cruelty. He took in the scene through a flood of tears and approached the body. Kneeling solemnly at her side, he gently lifted and turned the lifeless form. Grief caught in his throat as he mouthed, “Oh Mama…” But no words came, no sound escaped his lips. His roughened fingers traced lightly over the bruises and disfigurement as he lowered his lips to kiss her forehead. With great reverence he slowly laid her back on the straw. He crossed Zula’s arms upon her chest and, in a futile attempt at dignity, covered her with the remains of her garment.

It was unclear to Ajani how much time had elapsed as he found himself standing outside of the stables, staring at the blue expanse of the sky. The tears had stopped flowing and now he felt a deep hollow in his soul, a void left by the only person that mattered to him. He was alone in the world now, the last of his family.

The silence was finally intruded upon by the unmistakable form of Lemus stumbling through the northern gate into the courtyard. He was limping badly and his tunic was cut open at the back and soaked with blood. He didn’t seem to notice Ajani as he lurched awkwardly toward the entrance to the garden.

Ajani watched with a mild curiosity, as though an ant were crawling by. How easy it would be to stretch out a foot and crush it! Then Ajani found himself moving, following the man only a few paces away. They were in the garden now and Ajani’s pace was quickening, the gap between them closing.

Lemus heard the footsteps and turned. “Oh it’s you,” he grunted. “Help me. I must get to my study.”

But Ajani ignored him, rushing forward and shoving the Governor to the ground.

Lemus winced as he fell on his back, gritting his teeth. “What do you think you’re doing? I’ll have the guards hang you by your neck. You’re nothing but a treacherous bastard, all of you. Even my own wife betrayed me.”

Ajani kicked him in the stomach as hard as he could and the words immediately stopped.

As Lemus struggled to breathe, silence once again returned to the garden. In the distance, Ajani could hear that several people had entered the courtyard. He assumed that they were the guards Lemus had spoken of, but it didn’t really matter who it was. He had already made up his mind about how this conversation would end.

He leaned down toward Lemus and whispered into his ear. “The best part of the betrayal…” he paused for effect. “…is that Aelia isn’t even your daughter. Maeryn was pregnant by Adair before she met you.”

The presence in the courtyard was growing louder; the footsteps were getting closer. But Ajani ignored them. Instead, he widened his stance, bent over Lemus’ struggling form and clenched his fists. He could see the panic in his master’s eyes, eyes that used to show only cruelty. Ajani hoped that Lemus understood what was about to happen. He hoped that the scars on his own face would communicate what he couldn’t say because he didn’t feel much like talking anymore.

Chapter 5

After leaving Dacien, Kael made his way uphill, carefully to the north. His path was erratic, taking him from building to building, staying out of sight to keep from being caught up in any more confrontation. Not that confrontation bothered him. Indeed, it had become a way of life for him. But now that he knew where to start searching for his mother, and surprisingly, his sister, confrontation would only slow his progress.

After the better part of an hour, Kael crested the rise upon which the mansion stood. He stepped cautiously through the gate; the courtyard spread before him. It was eerily silent, but the sound wasn’t the strongest assault on his senses. The sight of the mansion and its surrounding buildings, situated within the graveled expanse of the courtyard, was almost too much to bear. Kael felt emotions that had no names. It wasn’t sadness. Neither was it joy. It was an odd mixture of too many feelings and Kael shut them down immediately. He didn’t have time to waste.

Dacien said that Maeryn received a visitor, so the first place to inspect was the house. The embedded gravel crunched on the dirt as Kael strode across the courtyard. It seemed much smaller than he remembered, though still large by anyone’s standards. The garden entrance came into view and more memories began to flood Kael’s mind. He heard laughter. He saw his father’s mischievous smile. He heard Ajani scream. These things were distractions that he chased away with one conscious thought.

The trees and flowers, the half that were still standing, seemed fuller and more mature. Even in its state of ruin, the garden still held a peaceful ambience. Suddenly, Kael slowed at the sight of a dead man lying in the dirt. A quick glance around told him that there were no longer any threats present, so Kael moved forward again. Recognition came almost immediately, even though the man no longer had any distinguishing features to his face.

“Lemus,” Kael said aloud.

The gangly man lay on his back, with one arm on his chest. His tunic was blood-soaked and his face was so swollen as to be unrecognizable as human, had it not been attached to the man’s body.

“…looks like the Syvaku hated you as much as I did!”

Kael waited for a moment, staring down at the object of his hatred. This man’s presence in Kael’s life had changed everything. In his early years at the monastery, when Kael wasn’t missing his family, he would lie awake in his bed, imagining the ways in which he would end Lemus’ life. And now, many years later, the man was reduced to a cold lump of flesh, by an enemy of his own making, no doubt.

Kael wondered what kind of policy would have provoked such a violent reaction from the Syvaku. But he brushed the thought aside and stepped around Lemus’ body, heading for the main entrance into the house.

His search began in the master bedroom and when that produced nothing, he initiated a systematic check of every room in the house. After searching in vain for some sort of clue for over an hour, Kael began to believe that the Captain had spoken correctly. There was nothing to see. Everything looked just as it should, deserted and ransacked. Refusing to give up, Kael moved his search to the other buildings around the mansion. Other than the body of an old slave woman that he found in the stables, his searching had turned up nothing.

The sun was now high overhead and Kael sat on the stone steps leading down to the bay of Bastul. The wall that surrounded the estate also included a portion of the harbor which was reserved for sensitive shipments that could be offloaded within the security of the enclosure. From the docks, cargo would be pulled in horse-drawn carts on a paved path that zigzagged up the hillside to where Kael now sat. His vantage point gave him a view of the entire city and as far as he could see, smoke filled the horizon.

The hot sun burned down through the haze clinging to the city and beads of sweat began to form along Kael’s forehead. For months he had been traveling with Bastul as his goal. Though he had called many places home over the years, cities and villages that had never even heard of the Orudan Empire, they were all temporary. Bastul was always his home. He wasn’t exactly sure why he didn’t return immediately after leaving the monastery. Maybe it was just a series of events that kept him away. Or maybe he just wasn’t ready. Whatever the reason, it all seemed meaningless now. As he sat on the steps and watched the burning city below, Kael felt more lost than ever. His mother was missing, gone without a trace, along with a sister he had never met. He had separated himself from all the people he called friends in order to come back to Bastul. And now, his journey had proven pointless.

I could use your help.

The words of the Captain came back to him.

Kael sat motionless for a moment, wondering if there was any value in joining the fight. After all, what loyalty did he have for Orud, except that his father was a soldier? He wasn’t sure why he had chosen to fight the Syvaku men in the city. Maybe it was because they were taunting the Captain and would certainly have killed him.

After several minutes of silence, Kael rose to his feet and began to move. His decision was simple. He would take the only opportunity presented to him—to help the Captain of the Guard. Perhaps later, Kael’s life would move in another direction, but for now, this was enough. It was something he could do.

He left the estate by the northern gate and skirted the city to the north, staying just off the main road. He retraced the route he had taken earlier in the morning and found the clearing where he had tethered his horse. There was no sign of the animal, but that was to be expected. With the city in chaos, Kael left enough slack in the reigns for the horse to pull free if necessary. Within minutes of a sharp whistle, his horse appeared at the edge of the clearing. Kael quickly mounted and headed off to the west in search of the remaining soldiers.

The rest of Kael’s day was spent riding along the foothills between the mountains to the north and the farmland to the south. As the sun dropped to the west, Kael found signs of movement, disturbed earth along a riverbed. The same river flowed from the mountains through the center of Bastul before emptying into the bay. Kael followed the tracks upriver, deep into the mountain range, until they diverted into the surrounding forest. Less than an hour before sunset, Kael caught his first glimpse of human life since leaving his parents’ estate.

He was aware of the soldier’s presence several minutes before the man jumped out from behind a thick hedge of shrubbery. The terrified soldier held his spear in front of him, ready for an attack.

“Identify yourself,” he commanded.

Kael raised his hands to show that he wasn’t a threat. “I’m looking for Dacien Gallus, Captain of the Guard. He said that he could use my help with the rest of the Syvaku.”

“You look like one of them. What is your name?”

“Caleb.”

The soldier turned and waved his spear. In response to the signal, another man stepped out from the cover of trees, twenty yards away, and headed off through the forest to the east. The first man turned his suspicious gaze back to Kael and held tight to his spear.

Kael waited patiently while his story was checked out and, after a few minutes, he was surprised to see the Captain himself walking through the trees.

“You’re later than I expected,” he called out.

Kael smiled. “I don’t remember making any agreements, but I’ll try to be more punctual in the future.” As the Captain neared, Kael dismounted from his horse and shook his hand.

“I’m glad you’ve decided to join us.” Dacien nodded his head back in the direction from which he had come. “Walk with me; I’ll explain our dilemma.”

“…dilemma?” Kael questioned. “What’s happening?”

“Well,” Dacien breathed. “As far as we know, there are about thirty barbarians left. We chased them into these mountains a few hours ago, but they suddenly stopped running. I lost two men in their counter attack. Now they’re using the cover of the trees to keep the fighting spread out. It’s their strong point and our weakness.”

Kael didn’t have to look around to get his bearings. Though he was never allowed to venture far when he lived in Bastul, he had a firm understanding of the surrounding areas from studying maps with Saba. “They have open fields to their north and the forest thins out to the east. Your horses and archers give you the advantage if they move into open terrain.”

“Exactly,” Dacien replied. “We think they are waiting until nightfall before they begin to make their way northwest, through the forest. If they split up, they will be impossible to contain in the dark.”

“If you put the majority of your men in the trees to the west, is there no way to keep them here and wait them out? Eventually, they’ll have to leave.”

“Unfortunately, I have less than fifty men and I don’t have time to spare. I have to make haste to Nucotu in order to send a dispatch rider to Leoran. They have to be informed of what has happened here.”

Kael lifted his head in understanding. “So you need to go into the forest after the Syvaku before sunset?”

Dacien nodded. “We’re just trying to work out a plan…and work up the nerve. None of us can stand the thought of letting them go after what they did. But it’s not going to be easy to go in after them.”

The two men had come upon a small clearing in the midst of their conversation. Soldiers from Bastul stood at attention, grouped by their weaponry. Spearmen, archers, swordsmen, and a handful of cavalry readied themselves for battle, tightening straps, sharpening blades. Each man wore a look of determination with a hint of fear.

“Here we are,” Dacien said quietly. “Caleb, I wouldn’t normally discuss battle plans with a complete stranger, but these are unusual times and I don’t sense any deceit in you. Thank you for your help.”

Kael nodded distractedly, taking note of the resources at their disposal.

“Well, your specialty seems to be the spear, so let’s head over to the men and get you outfitted.”

“Actually, my specialty is the sword, but might I make a suggestion?”

Dacien paused. “After what you did in the city, I would welcome any advice you may have.”

Kael looked back to the roughly equal groupings of soldiers now lining themselves up in standard attack arrangements—spearmen in front, followed by swordsmen, then archers. “The standard formations would leave your men vulnerable in this instance. You said that the Syvaku are spread out, hiding behind trees?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” he replied hesitantly.

“You might consider three-man groups spread ten yards apart. Each group would contain one spearman, one swordsman, and one archer. Have your riders cut sideways in front of these groups to flush out the barbarians on an individual basis. Their strength in this scenario is their ability to attack and hide, which appears undisciplined and chaotic to you. But lining up your men in one large group will only leave them unable to move and react to the barbarians’ random attacks. A small group still retains the advantages of long, medium, and short-range attack capabilities, yet allows for flexibility to deal with the enemies’ tactics.” The words flowed from Kael’s mouth with more authority than he intended and when he was finished, he hoped that the Captain was not offended.

“Interesting,” Dacien replied. “You have had training in the arts of war.”

“Something like that,” said Kael, waving his hand in dismissal. “If you would like, I’ll ride out in front.”

After contemplating the idea for a minute, Dacien replied. “Yes. I think that would be a good idea.”

After introducing Kael to the men, who numbered almost fifty, Dacien relayed the plan to the group. The soldiers, without question, began to assemble themselves. Kael mounted his horse and grabbed a shield and spear, opting instead for a weapon with a longer range than the short, Orud-style sword made exclusively for thrusting.

The groups spread out ten yards apart, just as Kael suggested, and began to move slowly forward into the darkening forest. Kael and five other riders rode a short distance ahead and began to cut left and right through the trees, trusting in the speed and agility of the horses to keep them out of danger.

Almost immediately, a barbarian jumped out from his hiding place and swung his axe at one of the riders. The Syvak warrior missed and gave away his position. The nearest group of Orud soldiers quickly closed-in and the archer struck his mark before any combat took place. Seeing the effectiveness of their strategy, the soldiers’ confidence began to grow. In a matter of minutes several more confrontations occurred to the same end.

The plan was working.

But the darkness of night was closing in quickly and barbarians were growing more reckless with each attack. Dacien called the riders to himself and changed the strategy.

“We need to speed this up. Ride farther ahead and seek out barbarians for yourself. Kill them on your own if you can. Those of us on the ground will move quicker to give you support.”

Kael and the rest of the riders accepted the change immediately, spurring their animals into motion. Suddenly, the soldiers from Bastul were charging through the forest, trying to keep up with the horses. The rider on the left flank went down, but a nearby group came to his aid and dealt with the barbarian. The horse was lost, but the rider escaped uninjured.

In the failing light, sound became the dominant sense. Sharp clangs of warfare sounded from numerous directions. The soldiers, trying to beat back the night, abandoned their fears and charged into the forest, knowing that the remainder of the Syvaku must be dealt with immediately.

Kael closed his eyes and kicked the sides of his horse. As the animal’s hooves dug into the soft earth, Kael expanded his senses to take in all of his surroundings. In his mind’s eye, he could see every trunk and limb around him. The sound of the running beast beneath him was a warning call to the Syvaku. As he passed between the trees, warriors stepped out from their hiding places, only to be cut down before they could even see their enemy. It became a dance, one that Kael had perfected.

After half an hour, and the complete loss of light, the soldiers from Bastul gathered together in a small clearing. Kael rode near and listened to the hushed sounds of urgent discussion as the soldiers quickly decided the best strategy. Suddenly, the air grew lighter around them as several trees began to go up in flames. Within seconds, the forest all around was burning and Kael realized that the barbarians were about to make their final attack.

“Gather together,” shouted Dacien. “Archers in the center, spearmen form a perimeter.”

Kael and the remaining cavalry urged their animals into motion and began to move around the group, keeping an eye on the burning trees. For several minutes, the only activity was the fire, its flames climbing the trunks of the surrounding trees. Embers and ash began to fall from above as the leaves were consumed.

Kael could see the tension in the faces of the spearmen as he rode around the circle. It was a common tactic that the Syvaku were using; waiting until the soldiers from Bastul began to mistrust their eyes. Staring at the flames had a way of dulling the senses. Each time Kael circled the group, he could feel a presence at the east side of the clearing. Sometimes the feeling would increase in intensity, presumably as the barbarians moved near. Other times, it would almost completely disappear, only to return from another direction. Kael knew that the enemy was waiting for the right time, as well as the right approach. Of course, he couldn’t tell the soldiers from Bastul about his feelings. It wasn’t something that they would believe or understand. But Kael had stopped long ago trying to explain. He had learned through trial and error to trust his instincts.

Suddenly, from the west side of the clearing, an axe spun through the air, catching one of the horsemen on his right arm and knocking him from his horse. The circle of soldiers tensed, wanting to help their fallen friend, but not willing to break the formation. The horseman rose to his feet, blood dripping from a deep gash in his upper arm as well as a minor wound to his abdomen. As he jogged to catch up to his horse, a form appeared at the edge of the clearing, running for the fallen rider.

Kael spun in his saddle and shouted. “Guard yourself,” but it was too late. The barbarian approached from the other side of the man’s horse, unseen until he darted to the rear of the animal and delivered a fatal blow with his crude sword. Just as the Orudan soldier fell to his knees, the barbarian was thrown backwards by the impact of three arrows.

Kael looked back to the circle and saw the concentration of all the men focused on the west side of the clearing and the events that had just occurred.

“Don’t be distracted,” he yelled to the men, searching for the presence of the barbarians. And then, to the north, he felt it. It wasn’t as strong as he expected. Then he sensed another larger group of men to the south and instantly knew the Syvak’s plan.

“Beware the diversion to the north,” he shouted, breaking away from the group and riding directly to the south. As the flaming trees neared, he could hear the commotion behind him as several barbarians charged into the clearing to draw the attention of the Orud soldiers. Kael dropped his shield and pulled a sword from the scabbard hanging from his side. Now armed with a spear in his right hand and a sword in his left, he raised himself from the saddle and stood in the stirrups to gain the extra mobility.

Almost immediately, figures began to dart out of the forest, coming from both sides of his horse. Kael stabbed with the spear and swung the sword downward, toppling three men in seconds. After going through the flames, Kael stopped his horse and watched as the majority of the remaining barbarians charged back through the flames toward the Orud soldiers. Kael jabbed his right knee into the saddle and his horse turned left to follow behind the Syvaku.

In their blind fury, the barbarians ran forward, concentrated solely on their goal to kill the soldiers. Kael used this to his advantage and struck down one after another from behind, his enemies only realizing what was happening as they fell to his weapons.

The barbarians spilled out into the clearing and were immediately assaulted by a volley of arrows. In the light of the clearing, Kael noted that Dacien’s estimation of thirty Syvaku was far too conservative. They numbered closer to fifty, nearly matching the number of men from Bastul.

As the first rows of barbarians impaled themselves upon the spearmen’s weapons, Kael ducked to the right and rode along the rear of the Syvaku. His weapons lashed out, striking many as he spurred his horse to a gallop. Nearing the end of their ranks, he turned around for another pass, just in time to see the circle of Orud soldiers spread out to keep from being surrounded. The rear ranks of the Syvaku pulled back in order to flank the soldiers, and Kael lost his opportunity.

He quickly jumped down from his horse, no longer needing the charging power. Instead, he opted for his own maneuverability and ran to confront the enemy. Axe blades swung by him as he dodged in and out of clusters of untrained raiders. With each step he jabbed and slashed, not even pausing to see the men fall around him.

The final confrontation lasted only a few minutes and when the last Syvak fell to the ground, Kael glanced around to assess the damage. The soldiers from Bastul had lost over half of their numbers, but their Captain was still alive. The remaining men jabbed their weapons into the air and shouted their victory, regaining a small measure of the dignity that had been taken from them by their enormous losses earlier that day.

After searching the surrounding area for additional enemies, the remainder of the group from Bastul marched back through the trees and headed southwest. They arrived at the edge of the forest at midnight and made camp in the foothills northwest of Bastul. Most of the men went directly to sleep, but a handful, including Dacien and Kael sat around a small fire, replaying the day’s events in their heads. After a long period of silence, Dacien spoke.

“Once again,” he directed to Kael, “I thank you for your help.”

Kael only nodded in response, staring at the fire.

“You were probably responsible for a third of them,” he continued, murmurs of agreement coming from the other soldiers.

“No,” Kael protested.

Dacien shrugged his shoulders. “I know what I saw.” He paused for a moment. “What will you do now?”

Kael thought for a second. “I…don’t know. I might ask you the same question.”

“In the morning, we’ll head back to the city for whatever provisions are left. Then we’ll leave immediately for Nucotu.”

“Are you leaving anyone behind to secure the city?”

Dacien smiled. “There’s nothing left to secure. Anyway, we’ll come back after I get a message sent to Leoran. They have to know what’s happened.”

Kael nodded again and looked back to the fire. There were so many thoughts running through his head that they all muddled together. For the first time in his life, he felt without purpose. After several minutes of silence, he stood up. “Would you mind if I accompany you and your men to Nucotu?”

Dacien laughed. “Of course not. You’re one of us now. Besides, you’re handy to have around. I just may need my life saved again.”

Kael smiled in return. “Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good evening,” the soldiers spoke softly.

Chapter 6

“Maeryn,” spoke Thaddius, softly.

Maeryn turned her head and looked at him. “I know…it’s time.” She was sitting atop a boulder along the southern rim of the valley containing the refugees from Bastul. Her hair fluttered in the breeze coming off the ocean as she stared out upon the rolling hills. She couldn’t see Bastul from her viewpoint, but she knew it was out there. And somewhere within the city limits, Zula and Ajani were trapped, by capture or death, unable to return. The Resistance couldn’t wait any longer. They had to begin their long trek to the north. “Still no word?”

“Nothing,” said the Resistance leader. “I’m sorry,” he added.

“I’m sorry as well, but they knew our timeline. We’ll leave whenever you’re ready.”

“Nightfall is quickly approaching. It will be best to move under the cover of darkness.”

“Then I’ll tell the people to be ready by sundown,” she said, climbing down from the rock and starting down into the valley.

The remainder of the day passed slowly as Maeryn tried to rest in preparation for the coming night. There was a mixture of fear and excitement in the camp and it seemed that Maeryn wasn’t the only one who had trouble resting. The Resistance guards, on the other hand, seemed to have no difficulty taking turns napping in the shade of the trees. Maeryn thought that they must be used to conducting their activities at odd hours.

By the time the evening meal was ready, Maeryn couldn’t stand being still any longer. She walked down from her napping area to the bottom of the valley where the refugees were beginning to gather. The smell of food immediately made her mouth water. The provisions for this trip had been planned out long in advance, with each person responsible for bringing something of value to the whole group when they left the city. Some brought simple, light cooking utensils, while others brought water containers or sacks of grain. It was accepted that this meal would be the last before the strict rationing would be enforced, and Maeryn tried to concentrate on enjoying what was available.

After assembling into lines to collect their dinner, the crowd dispersed into the surrounding areas to enjoy their meals. Aelia came over to Maeryn and sat down, her food untouched.

“Eat up. This is the best meal that we’re going to have for a while.”

“I know,” Aelia replied. “But I don’t have an appetite. Are we really going to leave without Ajani and Zula?”

Maeryn turned to her daughter with tears in her eyes. “We have to.”

“Why?”

“Look at all these people,” Maeryn replied. “We can’t jeopardize their lives for the sake of two people, even though they are our friends. It just wouldn’t be right.”

Aelia picked at her food. “Is there anything we can do?”

“I’m afraid not,” Maeryn answered. After a long pause, she added, “Actually, that’s not true. There is something we can do. We can make sure that these people escape to freedom, so that the work of Ajani and Zula is not wasted.”

Aelia smiled in response. “Do you think they’re alright?”

Maeryn paused, deciding not to shield her daughter from the realities of what they were doing. “No, Aelia. I don’t know what has happened to them, but their absence tells me that they are unable to come to us…for whatever reason.”

Aelia nodded and then looked to the ground as tears rolled down her face.

Maeryn reached over and put her arms around her daughter, letting her own tears flow as well.

After sunset, the group headed north through the hills, staying well away from the road that lead from Bastul to the northern watchtower. The road continued on a northeasterly course for several miles before ending, the construction of the direct route to Orud having been abandoned long ago in favor of more immediate concerns.

After skirting the guard tower and its area of visibility, the group slowly made their way east to the shore. This first leg of the trip took the entire night and by sunrise they made camp in a ravine along the coastline. Maeryn took the opportunity to rest her aching feet and to talk with the former slaves of Bastul. She was surprised by their optimism, knowing that she and Thaddius had good intentions, but almost no control over the outcome of this situation. But when compared to the lives to which they had become accustomed, the goal of reaching their destination seemed entirely plausible. By the time they began moving again, the weight of this realization began to change in Maeryn’s mind, turning into a determination to see this through to the end.

They began to move again a few hours before sunset and continued along the shoreline, heading for a secret location to the north. The first few hours before the setting sun proved to be productive, with the aide of the light and the smooth terrain. But as the sun waned, so did the speed of the group. Thaddius told Maeryn that the need to travel by night would lessen with their increasing distance from Bastul. And just as he suggested, the following day’s travels were spent almost entirely in the light.

On the third day of travel, a few hours after sunset, Thaddius stopped the group and instructed his guards to make camp. Maeryn helped prepare a small meal before the people retired for the night.

As soon as the provisions were put away and the cooking supplies packed, Maeryn found Thaddius. He was discussing the plans for the following day with his soldiers.

“Have we arrived?” she asked, as soon as he had passed out the guard’s orders.

“Nearly. Our destination is less than an hour from here.”

“And the preparations that you spoke of…they are in order?”

“One of my scouts has just returned,” Thaddius said, nodding to a man who was just now sitting down against a rock to eat his meal. “Everything is in order.”

Although Thaddius wasn’t very old, his stark white hair gave him the wise look of a man twice his age. His face appeared calm, reflecting the light of a nearby fire. He seemed to be at peace, even though their actions would earn them all a death sentence if they were discovered. Maeryn thought that it was as good a time as any to have the conversation she had been pondering all day.

“Thaddius. You haven’t explained to me what is to happen now that we have left Bastul.”

“That’s correct,” he replied.

Maeryn, seeing his reluctance decided to be more forceful. “I need to be included in the planning of this excursion.”

Thaddius’ eyebrows raised. “I didn’t know you wanted to be.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, what do you wish to know?”

“Everything. I think I have a right to know. Eventually, these people will start wanting some answers and they are going to look to me. In fact, I’ve already had to dodge a few questions today about our destination.”

“Yes, I suppose that is true. However, it’s late and we all need rest. I’ll tell you tomorrow’s plans, but the rest will have to wait until we have a better time.”

“When will that be?” she asked, sounding more forceful than intended.

“Tomorrow evening.”

“Very well. What is the plan for tomorrow?”

“Shortly after we set out, we will reach a cove. In the cove is a grotto at the water’s edge. I’ve made arrangements to have boats hidden in the cave.”

Maeryn looked back to the scattered groups of slaves shifting uncomfortably on the surrounding rocky terrain. “How many boats?”

“Enough,” he answered. “It’s a large cave,” he added. “Each boat will carry a specified number of people and we will travel the rest of the way by sea.”

“And what is our final destination?”

“Well now, that would be part of tomorrow’s conversation.”

“Good enough,” Maeryn stated. “But tomorrow I want to know everything.”

Thaddius nodded and Maeryn turned away to find Aelia and their sleeping quarters for the evening. As she walked away in the darkness, she realized that Thaddius’ conversation was different than any other that had occurred in the past. It took her several minutes to realize that she had never asked him anything specific before. Nothing about his intentions, plans, or his resources. He had always taken care of his responsibilities and left Maeryn to take care of hers. Perhaps he feels threatened. Though she knew it didn’t make any sense. Ultimately, he had complete control over the situation, even if he needed her as a mediator for the slaves. What is it then?

And then it came to her. He doesn’t trust me. He’s testing me, buying time to see if I’m going to quit. Suddenly Maeryn understood. Only hours before the evacuation of Bastul, she had been willing to abandon all of the plans and the entire slave population of Bastul to save her own life. At least that’s the way he sees it.

In that moment, Maeryn understood that she would have to portray herself as one who was willing to die for the cause. It would be the only way to gain his trust. But more importantly, in order for this to work, she would have to become that person in reality, one who is willing to set aside her individual desires in order to seek a greater good. After everything that she had been through since the disappearance of Adair, she wasn’t sure she could do that. She had learned to focus on surviving, looking to her own safety. How can I now abandon the one perspective that has kept me alive all this time?

As she walked among the rocks protruding from the hillside, her heart grew heavy and for a moment she doubted that she was capable of what she was doing. People like Thaddius and Adair are made for this sort of thing. Am I kidding myself?

And then she saw the figure of a young woman, waving her arms. It was Aelia, beckoning her mother to come and rest in the soft sand. In that instant, her confidence was restored. How many men could have accomplished this? She had come up with a plan and had seen it through, at the threat of her own life, to protect and raise her daughter for the last sixteen years. Perhaps even Thaddius was not capable of such steady determination.

Maeryn smiled as she waved back to Aelia. I will keep going. I will keep going because the consequences of giving up are unthinkable.

The following morning, the group cleaned up their camp in record time, everyone excited to reach the next leg of their journey. And within an hour of setting out, just as Thaddius said, Maeryn could see the coastline jog sharply to the west, indicating that somewhere, beyond sight, was Thaddius’ cove. The terrain rose slightly for several hundred yards, and the bright morning sun had everyone sweating profusely by the time they reached the top of the ridge that surrounded the cove.

Suddenly, one of the Resistance soldiers, who always walked far ahead as a scout, raised his hand and crouched to the ground. All of the slaves looked around in confusion and slowly began to imitate the man, responding to the sense of urgency on his face.

Maeryn’s heart began to beat rapidly as she looked over to Thaddius, crouching a few paces away on the right. The scout waved him forward and Thaddius began to move, staying low. Without an invitation, Maeryn followed, intending to be part of every decision made on behalf of this group from this point forward.

As she and Thaddius came within whispering distance of the scout, who was now joined by several other soldiers, Maeryn could see the source of the man’s alarm. There, on the northern side of the cove, just visible over the horizon of the ridge, were two Syvak warships. Their sails were slack and they appeared to be anchored. Maeryn looked to Thaddius, who paid her presence no attention. His mind was consumed with the task at hand.

“They have found our cave,” he whispered intensely to the scouts.

“What are they doing here?” one of the men asked.

“I thought they all fled after the attack,” offered another.

“None of that matters,” broke in Thaddius, stopping the unnecessary conversation. “We need only be concerned with how to be rid of them.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, but no one offered any constructive ideas. Maeryn looked out to the small bay and was alarmed to see tiny shapes in the water next to the warships.

“What are those?” she asked.

Thaddius lifted his head. “Our boats!” he hissed through gritted teeth. “We have to put an end to this, NOW!”

“We outnumber them,” Maeryn stated. All the men looked at her as if she was crazy. “I know they’re dangerous, but there is strength in numbers. If all of us,” she said, sweeping her hand back to the massive group of crouching slaves, “were to swarm them, our losses would be minimal.”

“And who is going to make them do it?” one of the scouts asked her.

Maeryn looked around the small group of soldiers to find Thaddius smiling. “I will,” she answered plainly. After a few quick nods of agreement, she turned and made her way back to the slaves.

The former captives of Bastul came close as she approached. Deciding that they were well out of earshot from the Syvaku, she raised her voice enough for all to hear. “Listen to me. Your freedom was not gained by simply escaping Bastul. From this day forward, your freedom will be a prize for which you must fight. And today is the first day of that struggle. Even now as we speak, the same barbarians who attacked Bastul are down in that cove, stealing the very boats that were reserved to carry you to freedom. There is no time to delay, or even to think. We must act now. Though they are warriors, they will not risk their lives for a losing cause. That is why we must act as one, intimidating them with our numbers.”

As Maeryn spoke, a sense of calm came over her and the words began to flow. She didn’t ask permission. She commanded without hesitation. There would be no second guessing, for there was nothing else to do but act. The freedom of these people before her lay not in her hands, but in their own. “We will head back to the trees and then make our way quickly and quietly to the other side of the cove. I will give you more specific instructions when we get there. Let’s go,” she said, rising to her feet and striding confidently toward the forest. The slaves followed without hesitation. From the corner of her eye, Maeryn saw Thaddius say something to his men, but she couldn’t hear.

Minutes later, Maeryn, the soldiers of the Resistance, and the mass of former slaves poured out of the forest above the cliffs on the north side of the bay. Half of the group split off and followed the gently sloping shore leading to the beach. The other half climbed to the highest point of the cliffs, directly over the entrance to the cave and the Syvak warships. Screaming at the top of their lungs, the slaves began hurling rocks at their enemy.

Three of the barbarians came out of the cave, running along the sandy shore to confront their attackers, but stopped short at the sight of their numbers. As rocks rained down upon them, the warriors turned back and ran for their ships. Along the decks of the warships, a flurry of activity erupted as blonde-haired barbarians readied their ships to sail. When the last of their brethren boarded, the ships lurched into motion, driven by the strength of the oarsmen.

Thaddius turned to a smiling Maeryn with a look of panic on his face. “If they escape, they will return with more men.”

Maeryn, unsure of how to respond, watched as Thaddius ran back up the incline, heading toward his soldiers atop the cliffs. Maeryn followed as fast as she could manage, understanding instantly what he meant to do.

As she neared the top, the Resistance soldiers were already in motion, lifting rocks above their heads and heaving them over the cliff, aiming for the warships.

“Large rocks,” Maeryn yelled to the slaves. “We must sink the ships.”

The first of the Syvak warships was gaining momentum and its slack sails were beginning to fill with wind as it headed away from the cliffs. A great cheer went up from the crowd as one of the slaves, a large and muscular man, hefted a boulder the size of his head, over the cliff. It landed with a crack on the stern of the enemy vessel, splintering wood as it crashed through the hull. Almost immediately, the ship began to take on water and its forward progress halted. It took only minutes before it slipped beneath the surface, leaving its angry crew treading water. Suddenly, another cheer came from the slaves as the second ship, still close to the mouth of the cave, pitched to one side and began to sink.

Maeryn ran to the edge of the cliff and watched in fascination. And then, just as suddenly as the cheering began, it stopped. Only now did the group see the rope attached to the stern of the warship. As it sank beneath the blue-green waters, the small sailing vessels that were meant to transport the slaves were pulled into a straight line. Then, one by one, they were pulled under by the weight of the larger warship.

Thaddius ran down toward the beach, hoping in vain to help the situation. But nothing could be done. And as Maeryn looked out in despair across the waters of the cove, she became aware that their situation had suddenly taken a drastic turn for the worse.

The next few hours were a blur of activity as the exhausted barbarians made their way across the bay to the opposite shore, only to be dispatched by the waiting Resistance soldiers. Thaddius and Maeryn entered the cave to find that two thirds of the transportation boats had gone down with the Syvak ship. The remaining boats, seventeen in all, were still neatly stacked along the back wall of the cave.

“They’ll each carry ten,” Thaddius spoke softly, his voice echoing inside the earthen chamber.

“We can fit more,” Maeryn responded.

“No. We can’t risk sinking in the middle of the ocean. They’ll only safely carry ten.”

“What do you mean for us to do then?” Maeryn shot back.

“I DON’T KNOW!” Thaddius yelled, showing frustration for the first time since Maeryn had met him.

“I’m sorry,” Maeryn offered. “I know you didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Thaddius nodded and glanced around the cave, running through the logistics in his head.

“Maybe now would be a good time for you to tell me the plan. Or what it was originally.”

Again Thaddius nodded his head and turned back toward the entrance to the cave. “Walk with me.”

Maeryn followed in silence until they exited the cave and started along the sandy beach. The sun was now at its peak, but the heat felt good on Maeryn’s skin, chilled from her time in the dark cavern.

“There is an abandoned Orud outpost on the eastern tip of the island Tur’cen. It was used as a staging area for the slave traders. The plan was to take the boats up this coastline, east across the channel, following the southern coast of Tur’cen to the outpost.”

“What then?” she asked.

“There,” Thaddius continued, “we would make a temporary encampment for the slaves. I figured it would take several months for myself and a few of my men to travel to Orud and make arrangements to bring everyone safely and secretly into the city.”

“Do you have any specific ideas about how you will accomplish this?”

“I did. But that doesn’t seem to be the most immediate concern.”

Maeryn looked out across the waters of the bay while choosing her words carefully. “Somehow, the present difficulty can be overcome. But I want to know how the ultimate goal of this venture will be accomplished. If that isn’t figured out, then none of this,” she said, pointing back to the cave entrance, “really even matters.”

“Alright. The slave trade has slowed considerably in the past ten years, but there are still ships coming in from the east on a regular basis. If we could gain control of one ship, we could smuggle all of the slaves into Orud without any suspicion. The Orudan guard would be expecting a ship of slaves and that’s exactly what would arrive. But, in order to make that happen, I would have to travel to the Resistance headquarters in Orud.”

“In Orud?” Maeryn questioned, unsure if he spoke correctly.

“Yes, hidden in plain sight. It’s right under the nose of the great Orudan Empire, in its capital city.”

“And where exactly is it?” Maeryn asked, sensing Thaddius’ discomfort at the direction of the conversation. “I understand your hesitation to tell me, but I think I’ve earned it.”

“In the temple of Equitus, the god of equality.”

“How poetic,” Maeryn said with a smile.

“Yes. And once there, I would have to convince our leader to make the arrangements, for he is the only one with the connections to accomplish such a task.”

“That sounds impossible.”

“Yes, well, you asked.”

“Who is the Resistance leader?”

Thaddius shook his head. “I’ve never met him. In fact, I don’t know anyone who has. He keeps his identity hidden even from his own followers. It’s safer that way.”

“How…” Maeryn began, but Thaddius interrupted.

“No more questions. We’ve got to figure out how to get all these people to the island outpost.”

Maeryn bit her lip, frustrated at the abrupt end to the stream of useful information. “Well, the quickest way would be for you to take the remaining boats and half of the slaves, and then come back for the rest of us. Meanwhile, we would march north, making your return trip much shorter.”

“Does this mean that you are volunteering to stay behind?”

“As long as you leave me a few of your soldiers…yes.”

Thaddius smiled. “You do realize that this process could take several weeks and with three trips across the channel, our risk of being spotted by an Orudan patrol increases threefold?”

“Do we have any other choice?”

“I suppose not. Then we’ll set out in the morning.”

“Agreed,” Maeryn replied with confidence, though in reality, she had never been so scared in all her life.

Chapter 7

Kael awoke before sunrise and left the group of sleeping soldiers. He walked a good distance away, following the edge of the forest until he came to a small hill overlooking the farmlands to the west. Behind him, the dark sky was just beginning to lighten along the horizon. As was his daily ritual, he stood with his hands at his sides and bowed his head. Eyes closed, he began to steady his breathing and concentrate on his heartbeat. Automatically, his body began to move, flowing gracefully through various stances and positions. As his body expended energy, his movements seemed to generate energy of their own, replenishing what was expended, and more. Almost immediately, the familiar but unexplainable sense of his surroundings came to him. Though his eyes were closed, Kael could feel each blade of grass swaying in the breeze; he could sense every contour of the rolling hills.

By the time he was finished, the sun had just cleared the eastern horizon. Kael hurried back to the encampment and found that nearly everyone was awake. A small meal was being prepared over the campfire and the remainder of the men were packing their belongings and readying themselves for the trip back to Bastul. The group ate in silence and within half an hour, they were moving south. The short trip took only a few hours and when they crested the hills to see the city below, the small group of soldiers—all that remained of the Bastul guard—stopped in their tracks.

The once glittering city called the “Southern Jewel” was now only a dark, smoldering blemish upon the face of the earth. The group began to move, slowly. Kael glanced around and saw that many of the men had tears running down their faces, though they made no noise. As they descended out of the foothills, Kael realized that his own feelings of grief couldn’t possibly measure up to those of the men around him. Though he had returned, Bastul still remained only a pleasant memory of his past. But for his traveling companions, it was their home.

Upon entering the city, the soldiers were greeted with mixed reactions. Some of Bastul’s citizens were excited that help had finally come. Some were angry that the soldiers had come too late. Kael watched Dacien to see how he would respond, but he didn’t clarify to the people that his men had been part of the original defense of the city and were, just now, returning from pursuit of the enemy. It wasn’t the time or the place, Kael realized. It would accomplish nothing to explain.

The soldiers continued moving through the city, some on horseback, witnessing the aftermath of the attack. The only structures that remained standing were those made of stone. Everything else smoldered, threatening to flare up at a moment’s notice. It took several hours to reach the hilltop garrison and by the time the men arrived their energy was nearly spent.

Before the men completely lost their concentration, Dacien called to his second in command. The man immediately responded and came near.

“Have the men gather what provisions are left, if any. I will take a few men and ride to Nucotu. We will depart this evening, or sooner if possible. I am leaving you in charge until I return.”

The man nodded sharply, understanding the importance of what was being asked of him.

“I know that this task will not be easy, but you must do what you can to help the people. Some sense of order must be restored. And you may tell them that I have gone to get help from our neighboring cities.”

“Yes, Sir,” the man replied, leaving to carry out his orders.

Dacien turned to look at Kael, but spoke nothing.

“Just let me know when you are ready,” Kael said. Pulling on the reins, he led his horse back to the gate and left the courtyard.

Two hours before sundown, Dacien, Kael, and eight other soldiers started out from the city of Bastul on horseback, by way of the western road along the coast. By sundown they had passed the western guard tower, which marked the northwestern city limit, and turned north into the uneven coastal terrain. Just before midnight, they made camp in a thin stand of trees, each man going directly to sleep without any conversation.

Sunrise came quickly as the small group broke camp and continued their north and west passage, changing direction to follow the smoothest terrain. The sky was clear for the remainder of the day and even after sundown when they gathered around a fire to eat their evening meal.

Sometime during the night a storm blew in from the sea. The rain fell steadily for hours, drenching the ground around them. Without a fire or breakfast, the soldiers broke camp and continued north. Along with the rain came a strong wind that made conversation between the men impossible. The days dragged on in solitude and Kael had only his thoughts to occupy the time.

The weather failed to improve and two weeks after setting out from Bastul, the small group of soldiers, moving swiftly along the beach, rounded a sandy point to see the small town of Nucotu. The trip had taken nearly twice the anticipated time, but the men were relieved just to reach their destination.

The coastal community was originally one of several waypoints setup between the larger cities of the region. Their purpose was to shelter and sustain messengers responsible for maintaining communications throughout the Empire. The town had grown through the years to include a community of farmers and fishermen as well.

But on this cloudy morning, it was immediately obvious that something was wrong. An eerie silence pervaded the area, interrupted only by the soft and steady falling of rain. Dacien rode at the fore and directed the men to move closer to the tree line on the right.

Kael followed in the second position and surveyed the environment. The main dock was partially collapsed into the water and there were no boats to be seen. Strange for a fishing community. Immediately, Kael feared the worst—that Nucotu had also been attacked. For the moment, he set the thought aside and cleared his mind to be ready for surprises.

As they entered the city, the column of soldiers spread out to search each building thoroughly before moving on, but they were all deserted. After an hour of searching to no avail, Dacien took two men and rode inland to search the farmlands. Kael and the others continued moving through the town center and ended their search near midday.

In the main meeting hall, Kael found dry wood and cold ashes in the fire ring at the center of the room, and set to work on building a fire. Within minutes he had a small flame and began adding fuel. Once he coaxed the flame into a blaze, he invited the other soldiers to warm themselves, then walked outside, volunteering to keep watch.

It was obvious that the inhabitants of Nucotu had left in a hurry—a disturbing observation. After finding a good sheltered vantage point atop a knoll, Kael settled himself against the trunk of a tree and considered the implications. If Nucotu was part of the Syvak attack, then this was a coordinated assault or possibly invasion. The attack on Bastul was serious enough to result in a direct retaliation against the Syvaku, but an invasion would mean a large scale war within the Orud Empire.

Before dusk Kael returned to the meeting hall and switched guard duty with another soldier, finding the evening meal prepared and waiting for the Captain’s return. No sooner had he warmed up than Dacien entered the hall with the remaining soldiers. Their faces were solemn.

“What did you find?”

Dacien shook his head and proceeded to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. “One of the larger farms had a barn that was burned down. We searched the ashes and found bones.”

“Human?” Kael asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“I would guess that all or most of the citizens were in the barn when it was set aflame.”

A moment of silence followed, not out of respect for the town’s inhabitants, though they were deserving, but because it seemed wrong to speak until each person had time to consider what they had just heard.

It was Kael who broke the silence. “Let us sit. I would like to share something that hasn’t made sense to me until now.”

Slowly, the men made their way to the fire, settling upon the floor with their meals, though most didn’t have the stomach to eat. Kael took a few bites of hard bread and swallowed before speaking. “One day before my arrival in Bastul, I was traveling along the eastern coastline. At the mouth of a wide river I witnessed a long formation of Syvak warships entering the ocean. Once the small fleet was assembled into formation, it turned toward Bastul and sailed from my sight. I arrived at the end of the fighting in the city when we met.”

“You mean the ships sailed from the river?” Dacien asked with surprise.

“Yes. Their ships have wide, shallow hulls without a keel, making them highly maneuverable in shallow water. And their sailing ability is unmatched.” At this, a few of the soldiers grunted with disapproval, not ready to agree with any statement that put Orud behind another nation or people.

“I don’t mean any disrespect, but it is a fact. Their entire culture is based upon their sailing and navigational skills. They have weaknesses, but this particular skill is unmatched and unquestioned.”

“What are you suggesting?” Dacien asked.

“I believe that the Syvaku descended upon this town quickly and surprised the citizens, dispatching them quietly and thoroughly, taking care to prevent anyone’s escape. Then they used a river only a few miles to the north of here to make their way inland. Judging by the disproportionate number of ships to foot soldiers that attacked Bastul, I would guess that they have been transporting their soldiers to a base camp somewhere along the river. They are most likely using the branching river systems to place solders in strategic locations throughout the southern region. And if this is the case, the Syvaku are not just attacking but invading.”

“That is a lot of speculation,” Dacien said flatly.

“True,” Kael conceded.

After a few seconds, Dacien looked back to Kael. “If what you say is true, then our situation has indeed become significantly more complicated. I was expecting to find a dispatch rider in this town to send word to Leoran. But now we will have to deliver the message. And I can’t communicate your suspicions to the General without any proof. But to search for the proof means delaying the delivery of this critical message which is my first priority.” Dacien looked at the floor, not expecting anyone to answer. He was simply speaking out loud the decisions that were his to make.

In the absence of discussion, one of Dacien’s men spoke up. “If they are using this river to the north as an entry point, shouldn’t we also hold the river, or at least monitor it?”

Kael responded immediately. “No. At this point it would be a waste of time. The attack on Bastul is an indication that they reached a point of readiness with a sufficient number of soldiers and other resources. You won’t see any more ships along this route.”

Dacien looked to Kael as soon as he finished speaking. “Take two of my men with you. Ride upriver and follow it until you find confirmation of your theory. Make sure that my men see it as well. I don’t mean to offend you, but the General won’t accept intelligence from a scout that I met on the day of the attack. We will ride north for Leoran and deliver our message. If you do indeed find confirmation of what you seek, ride north and find our trail if you can. Otherwise, we will wait there for your arrival. You can leave at first light.”

Kael nodded. “We’ll leave now.”

Chapter 8

The night passed at an agonizingly slow pace as Maeryn found it impossible to sleep with all that was on her mind. She ran the numbers in her head over and over. They had set out from Bastul with nearly five hundred slaves. With seventeen boats carrying ten people per boat, it will be three trips with or without the Resistance soldiers. Which means there’s no other way out of this situation. She had already told Thaddius that he should take the first group and that she would stay behind, but her mind wouldn’t stop trying to come up with a better solution.

Sometime in the early morning, she awoke from a nightmare. She had been dreaming that she was underwater, her ankle tied to the ropes that connected their escape boats. She could see the Syvak warship beneath her, disappearing into the darkness amid a flurry of tiny bubbles. The rope around her ankle pulled her through the water, downward toward the darkness. It didn’t take long for the panicked feeling to go away, and when it did, it was replaced by a sense of relief that she had actually fallen asleep.

Morning quickly erupted into a frenzy of activity as Thaddius and sixteen of his men boarded the remaining escape vessels and began to help the slaves of Bastul aboard. The provisions would be split equally between the three trips, in case there were any accidents along the way. Once underway they would fish to supplement their stores of food. Each vessel was fitted with six oars and a small sail to accommodate a variety of situations. The rowing, when necessary, would take place in shifts to spread the work evenly among the passengers. Shortly after sunrise, the first group departed the cove, turning north as they entered the broader expanse of ocean. Maeryn watched, her anxiety growing with each stroke of the oars. At last the boats disappeared from view and Maeryn knew that her most difficult trial had just begun.

“Everyone, clean up! Let’s get moving,” shouted Garust, the next ranking officer among the Resistance soldiers. Maeryn already suspected a hint of a tyrant, but she hoped it was only the over-eager response to his new responsibilities. She had seen it many times with soldiers in Bastul.

All at once, she felt two opposing emotions, longing for Adair and repulsion for Lemus. It was amazing, but since she had left the city, she hadn’t thought about Lemus. It never even occurred to her to fear that he might come after her. But now that she thought of it, the concern seemed valid. Although, it seemed so small in comparison to what she was now facing. And with that, she dismissed it from her mind.

The remaining slaves, now numbering just over three hundred, broke camp in under an hour and quickly assembled double file. Garust sent two men ahead as scouts to find the best path and with the return of the first, the column began to move. Maeryn and Aelia were positioned near the middle of the group; Garust thought it best to have them visible to all the slaves.

It was in this moment that Maeryn realized her role and power in this situation. For some reason, the Resistance soldiers had neither the respect nor authority over the slaves that Maeryn had. Perhaps it’s because I’m a woman, or because the Resistance fighters are soldiers. They earn the automatic disdain of the slaves. After pondering this thought for the better part of the morning, Maeryn came to the conclusion that her planning of the exodus from Bastul must have given hope to her current traveling companions. All those years I worked to establish lines of communication throughout the slave class of Bastul, I never considered the effect it would have on the people. She imagined herself as a slave, chained to a detestable way of life, without hope of change. Then, she imagined what it would feel like to hear rumors of messages being passed from one slave to another. Finally, you would be approached and asked to report information about your masters and their affairs. Your fear would be great, but equally matched by the anticipation of something undefined. Perhaps change? Your feelings would slowly grow into hope that someone would act, that someone would use the supplied information for some greater purpose, perhaps something that would affect your own life in a positive way.

As Maeryn considered these thoughts, she looked around at her traveling companions. Her gaze was met with the smiles of men, women, and children alike. It was in this moment that her resolve was hardened and she promised herself that she would never abandon these people as she had been abandoned. She couldn’t let them be captured or fall back into a life lived against their will. If anyone understood their pain and suffering, it was she.

* * * *

After saddling their mounts, Kael and the two soldiers from Bastul rode north to the mouth of the river. The moonlight reflected off the gently flowing water as they turned inland. Already, Kael could feel the discomfort of his companions.

“Is there something you wish to say?”

“Do you plan to travel by night? How will we be able to see what we are searching for in the dark?” The shorter man was bolder in his speech, compared to the tall, fair-haired one.

“This is just for tonight. We will stop tomorrow evening and travel only by day from then on.”

With that, the men were silent and remained so for the rest of the evening. The travel was slow without proper light or a defined path, but as the sun began to rise in the east, their progress quickened. By the time the sun was a hand’s breadth above the horizon, they spread out to become less visible to any spying eyes.

At midmorning, they stopped to breakfast together and it seemed that the others were not used to the solitude. The conversation started as soon as the first bites of food were swallowed.

“What exactly do you hope to find?”

Kael smiled. “I hope to find nothing. But if we see any sign of a temporary dwelling, cold camp fires, or any sentries, then my fears will be confirmed.”

There was silence for a few minutes before Kael spoke again. “When we’re finished with our meal, I’d like to spread out even farther. I don’t want anyone to ride along the opposite side of the river, it’s too exposed. I’ll ride along the base of the mountain,” Kael said, pointing to the low mountain chain running along the south side of the river. “If you stay in the trees, you won’t be visible from above, but we’ll have visible contact with each other beneath the foliage. If you see or sense anything, stop riding and signal me.”

Kael could see the irritation in their faces. Though he had already proven himself to the men in battle, they couldn’t stomach taking orders from a scout.

“Oh yeah…one last thing. You should remove your cloaks and armor; anything bright in color or able to catch the sunlight will give you away.” Before the men had time to object, Kael held up his hand. “I know you don’t like it, but it is for your own good. Even scouts in the Orud army are not required to wear the royal color,” he protested, indicating their red cloaks. “You’ve been given a new charge by Dacien and for the time being, you are considered scouts.”

The men slowly nodded in approval and swallowed the last of their meal. “Let’s go,” they ordered, attempting to regain their dignity.

For the remainder of the day they followed the river to the east, with Kael traversing the foothills and the others staying between his position and the river. They camped at nightfall without a fire and repeated this rhythm for another three days until the river forked, one branch continued southeast, while the other turned due south.

“Look,” the tall soldier said, pointing across the eastern branch to the northern shore. “It looks too large to be animals.”

Kael followed his outstretched arm and saw the large area of trampled grass beneath the trees. “It’s too far away to tell for sure, but I agree with you. I think we should follow the southeastern branch; it should lead us toward the eastern sea, where I saw the Syvak warships.”

Suddenly, the dark-haired soldier shifted his gaze and looked over Kael’s shoulder.

Kael turned around slowly and saw it immediately, movement in the rocks to the south of their position. Whoever it was, he was staying just below the horizon to keep his silhouette from being visible, but he moved with too much confidence to be invisible.

“We must keep talking as if we haven’t seen him.”

The men nodded quickly and casually, adapting to the situation with ease.

“Why don’t you two take to the southern branch, along the shore? Make it look as though you seek a place to cross. If he has been watching us for any length of time, then he’ll expect me to go back to the foothills. From there, I will try to ascend to him unseen.”

The men turned and headed to the river and Kael steered his horse to the foothills. Within minutes, Kael lost sight of the crest of the mountain and immediately began to look for his passage. It didn’t take long to find a steep valley that carved its way into the mountainside. Kael dismounted and placed the reins of his horse over a low-hanging branch. Then he sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him up the valley. He knew that time was of the essence. If the enemy scout lost sight of Kael for too long, then he would start to get suspicious. Kael had to reach him before that happened.

Still running, Kael’s legs began to burn, but he pushed on until he approached the crest of the hill. Taking in large amounts of air, he slowed himself to a crawl, then veered toward the southern slope of the valley and climbed his way out. He came out into a stand of trees that offered some protection, but limited his visibility. Kael scanned the mountain top while creeping forward, looking for some sign that he wasn’t alone. Then, the scuffle of a boot upon a rock sounded to his left. Carefully, he moved forward a few steps and froze.

There in front of him, only twenty paces away, was the Syvak scout, moving sideways along the rocks with his eyes toward the river. Kael was startled at how close he already was to the man. Breathing steadily, he moved silently forward, keeping just behind the scout’s peripheral vision.

As he neared, Kael watched in confusion as the man lifted his hands to his face. For a moment, Kael wondered if he was about to sneeze. Instead, he cupped his hands around his mouth and howled like a dog. Suddenly, Kael could hear the faint sounds of commotion coming from the river. It was a signal and his companions were in danger.

Kael burst into action, no longer concerned about silence.

The startled man spun around just in time to see a boot crash into his face. The force of the kick whipped the man’s head backward and his body followed obediently, crashing to the ground. Without breaking his stride, Kael reached down to the man’s head and gave it a quick twist, feeling the neck snap.

Without hesitating to even verify the man’s death, Kael ran down the mountainside, dodging branches and clusters of boulders. The descent seemed to take twice as long as the ascent as every passing second felt like an eternity. The slope flattened in time with the thinning of the trees and suddenly, the shoreline was visible. Kael glanced left and right, but couldn’t see around the bend of the river. He had no idea where his companions were. Guessing, he turned right and followed the river to the south. And to his dismay, he found the body of one soldier lying face down in the rocks. The dark hair told him immediately who it was.

A few seconds later, he came across the other, wounded. He was propped up on one elbow, holding his short sword in front of him. Two barbarians lay dead at his feet. Downriver, another Syvak was wading through the water toward him, grinning like a carnivorous predator over its fallen prey.

Kael ran to the wounded soldier and took the sword from his hand. “Can you walk?”

“Is this the best time to ask?” he replied, shocked by Kael’s calm demeanor.

“Don’t worry about him; he’ll be dead in just a few seconds. Can you walk?” he repeated.

“Uh…I think so!”

“Good,” Kael said with a grunt, helping the man to his feet. Turning around boldly, he stared at the barbarian who now seemed unnerved that this newcomer didn’t wear a look of fear. Kael marched toward the man, entering the ankle-deep water with such confidence that the Syvak took a step backward and stumbled.

Kael lunged at him with the first sign of weakness.

The barbarian stepped back again and stumbled, sending out a flailing arm to regain his balance.

Kael slashed quickly, severing the limb at the elbow. The Syvak’s forearm spun through the air and landed with a splash.

Falling backward into the water, the man stared in disbelief at the remains of his arm.

Kael surged forward again and plunged the Orud short sword into the man’s chest, forcing his body under the water. He held the sword in place for a few seconds before pulling it free.

The body sluggishly began to drift downriver.

Shaking off the blood and water, Kael wiped the blade clean on the sleeve of his shirt and walked back to the soldier standing on the bank.

The Orud soldier accepted the sword without a word.

“How badly are you injured?”

“I’ll live. I’ll limp for the rest of my life, but I’ll live” he responded, looking down at the deep gash in his leg.

Kael looked around to see the other dead barbarians. “You fought well today.”

A few seconds of uncomfortable silence followed as the man struggled to find the words to show his appreciation. Instead, he stepped forward, wincing in pain, and extended his hand. “My name is Caius…and I’m honored to travel with you.”

Kael accepted his handshake. “…and I, you!”

The night was cold without a fire and neither man had the stomach to eat anyway. The day’s confrontation and the loss of a friend had sapped their energy. Both went to sleep as soon as the sun began to set. The next morning was bright and most of the chill was gone from the air. Kael had to wake Caius, who looked pale and exhausted.

“Can you ride?”

“Always,” he replied with a defiant smile. “What’s the plan?”

“The men we encountered yesterday were either scouts or sentries. It’s good, but not enough of a confirmation. We need to cross the river and follow the southeastern fork.”

“I’m ready when you are,” Caius replied.

As planned, the two crossed the river and followed the southeastern fork along its southern bank. By midday, the land began to rise around them and they moved away from the river to maintain a vantage over the water. Kael decided to stick close to Caius as his wound wouldn’t allow them to travel apart safely. After a gradual rise in elevation, they spurred their horses up a final steep and rocky grade, arriving at the top of a short mountain. The view stretched out for miles.

Following the river bend, Kael’s eyes traced the landscape for any sign of confirmation of his theory.

Breathing heavily, Caius squinted into the sun. “If I were a sentry, this would be my choice for a post.”

“Indeed,” Kael replied. “In fact, I’m surprised that we didn’t encounter someone as soon as we crested the hill.”

“Maybe there isn’t a larger group,” Caius offered.

After a long pause, Kael responded. “Or maybe it’s because they’re on the move and this location has already been scouted.”

Caius turned and followed Kael’s outstretched arm pointing to the northeast.

“…the cloud of dust, just below the horizon.”

“I see it. There must be three of four hundred of them.”

“Yes. It looks like they’re on foot.” Kael turned to look at Caius. “I apologize, my friend. We don’t have time for you to rest and heal. We have to ride fast to warn Leoran.”

“I understand.”

“Is this enough confirmation for you?”

“…plenty. Just give me a minute to change my dressing and we can get going,” Caius replied, reaching down to the blood-soaked bandage on his leg.

He dismounted and removed the wet bandages, only to find that the wound had reopened since the morning. The bleeding was considerably less than the previous day, but still more than Kael wanted to see. It was a difficult situation considering the urgency of their information, but Kael couldn’t ride ahead and leave this man alone in his current state.

Caius bound the wound with a tight dressing, remounted his horse and nodded to Kael. Kael nodded in return and turned his horse back to the west where he had noted a decent point to cross the river earlier in the morning.

Traveling was slow through the mountainous terrain, but sped considerably as the land began to flatten. A week after setting out from the river fork, Kael and Caius came across the trail of Dacien and his men. They had apparently moved inland from the coast to take advantage of the easier route. After studying the remains of one particular camping spot, Kael estimated that they would be more than a week ahead. He told this to Caius with the conclusion that they would not rejoin their companions before they reached Leoran. He didn’t add that it was mainly Caius’ wound that would keep this from happening; the man had enough to deal with.

At the midpoint of their six week journey to Leoran, Kael began to notice a drastic decline in Caius’ health. The final straw came one afternoon as Kael was following. He put Caius in the lead, hoping that deciding which route to take would keep Caius’ mind occupied, away from the pain. As they began a slight decline into a shaded valley, Caius slipped from his horse and landed awkwardly in the dirt. Kael quickly dismounted.

“Are you alright?”

The man only groaned in pain, lying face down on the ground.

Kael lifted his head and saw that his eyes would not focus. “We’ll stop here for the evening. Just close your eyes and rest; I’ll take care of everything. Just rest,” he repeated.

After carrying him to a more secluded location, Kael built a small fire and gave Caius some water. He wouldn’t take food, even in small amounts, and eventually, Kael stopped trying to force him. After a few hours, Caius slipped into a deep sleep. Kael took advantage of the dying sunlight and inspected the unconscious man’s bindings.

The outer bandage was clean, but as Kael unwound it he could quickly see that the wound was festering. The inner bandage was saturated with a yellowish fluid and when removed, the skin showed itself to be bright red in a large area around the wound. The gash was covered over with a putrid-smelling greenish scab and it was obvious that infection had set in. Kael sat back and slumped to the ground, frustrated by the thought of what this man would have to endure in the next few days.

Sometime during the night, Caius began to moan in pain. Kael checked his forehead and confirmed that he had a fever. Neither of them slept at all the rest of the night, as Kael made regular trips to a small stream nearby for fresh water. Midmorning on the next day, Caius started vomiting and couldn’t keep down even water. The minutes stretched into hours and the hours into days. Kael knew that he was losing precious time but he had to see Caius through the worst. And that time eventually came the following morning when Caius shook Kael awake.

“What…” Kael mumbled, disoriented. “How are you feeling,” he asked, as soon as he came to his senses.

“Better,” Caius replied. “How long have I been out?”

“…a few days. Can you eat?”

“I’ll try a little.”

Kael rose and immediately set to making a light broth over the fire. When it was prepared, he gave a small cup to Caius and watched the feeble man try to consume the hot liquid.

After seeing him take a few sips, Kael smiled and then spoke. “Listen. You’re not fit to travel. And I have to notify Dacien of what we’ve seen.”

“I know,” Caius responded with a downcast look, disappointed with himself.

“I can leave you my waterskin and the rest of my rations, which should last you another few weeks. As soon as I reach Leoran, I’ll send a rider to come back for you.”

As Kael spoke, Caius reached to his shoulder and unfastened his torc, allowing the red cloak of Orud to fall to the ground. At this, the man winced, not for the pain, but the dishonor of allowing the cloak to touch the ground, unattached to his uniform. Without the strength to pick it up, he gestured to it. “Take it. Dacien will never believe you otherwise.”

Kael quickly knelt and lifted the cloak from the dirt. “Thank you. Is there anything I can do before I leave?”

“You’ve done plenty. Now go quickly. You hold the lives of many more than just mine in your hands.”

After a few minutes of readying his horse and supplies, Kael mounted and looked down to his friend. “I’ll send someone back.”

“I know you will. If I don’t get the chance later, I want to thank you for saving my life.”

“Of course,” Kael replied. “But you will have another chance. You owe me an ale the next time we meet.”

“Fair enough,” Caius laughed.

Kael nodded to his friend, then turned his horse to the north and kicked his steed into motion.

Chapter 9

The travel on foot had been grueling, but fortunately Maeryn, Aelia, and the freed slaves of Bastul were getting close to their destination. One more day to the north would bring them to a point along the eastern coast where they would meet up with Thaddius. The former Commissioner of Bastul had planned to take the first third of the slaves to their hideout on the island of Tur’cen and return to rendezvous with Maeryn’s group.

Lost in thought, a commotion at the front of the group caught Maeryn by surprise.

The lead scout was running back along the column of travelers toward her. “My lady. Thaddius has returned.”

Maeryn looked to where the man was pointing. Out in the ocean were several white dots floating in contrast with the deep blue water. “Perhaps he grew impatient with our progress,” Maeryn replied.

“Indeed,” came the reply with a smile.

Another hour brought the two groups together in a joyous reunion on the shore. Thaddius relayed that the trip was a success and that all was exactly as planned at their island encampment. This instantly gave hope to all who heard. Suddenly, their struggle seemed to have purpose and their efforts were not in vain. After the reunion, they moved a mile to the north where the terrain offered a bit of seclusion from any patrols that might pass by. The sun fell quickly, but the weary travelers were now experts at setting up camp. As the sky darkened, the smell of cooking food filled the air.

“How are you holding up?” Thaddius asked Maeryn as they sat eating their meal.

Aelia seemed more interested in the conversation and only picked at her food.

“Fine. Were you waiting long at the meeting place?”

“No. In fact, I didn’t wait at all. Being out on the water makes me nervous. The Orud patrols aren’t nearly as heavy as they used to be. But it would be easy to spot us, especially with the repeated crossings to the island. When I saw that you hadn’t arrived, I immediately turned south. I would like to get this over as quickly as possible.”

“That reminds me,” Maeryn replied. “How will you notify headquarters that we are in place?”

Thaddius shifted his weight and remained silent. It was obvious that speaking of these matters in front of Aelia made him uncomfortable. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. There were no secrets now; they were all in this together. But that didn’t seem to make it any easier to get Thaddius to talk.

“Aelia dear, I would like just a bit more soup.”

“Yes, Mother,” she answered, taking Maeryn’s cup and walking off in the direction of the nearest fire.

“You were saying…” Maeryn said to Thaddius.

“Actually, I wasn’t.”

“Thaddius, why do you insist on keeping secrets, even now when we are all risking our lives together?”

“I suppose it’s a habit.”

“So tell me about the plan as a means of overcoming your habit,” Maeryn replied, pushing farther.

“Alright,” he said after a few moments of silence. “The need for Orud patrols along the southern islands waned as our enemies became fewer and fewer. Without this purpose, the navy was put to other uses, specifically slave trading. The eastern point of Tur’cen was used as a staging point for slaves. The great ocean faring vessels from the southeastern seas would bring large groups of captured men and women and offload them at the island. From there, they would be loaded onto smaller, more maneuverable ships that could navigate the shallower water among the islands. Once the slave trade declined, the larger ships became obsolete and the smaller vessels would perform both tasks and would eventually make the trip from the southeastern seas to Orud without stopping.”

“And what does this have to do with us?” Maeryn interrupted.

“I was getting to that. Once we are in place, the headquarters will be notified and arrangements will be made to route an empty ship to the island. The ship will dock at the abandoned post and we will all board for our trip to Orud. We will ride into the capital city in broad daylight just as any other arriving slave shipment. After arrival, it will appear as if the slaves are given to their new masters, when in fact, each master will take his new subjects to their respective assignments to support the Resistance throughout the Empire.”

Maeryn was shocked. “Assignments? I thought they were to be freed!”

Thaddius held a finger to his lips, cautioning Maeryn. “They will be free…they are free,” he corrected.

“Yes, free to be subject to someone else’s rule!”

“Maeryn, are you so naïve as to think that these people will be released to wander the countryside? Until we can make a permanent change, they will never be free under this Empire. This is a new chapter in all our lives. We are giving them the chance to fight for their own freedom. They will not be subject to new masters, but will have the freedom to act as any of my soldiers do, though their responsibilities will not be as great. What more can we hope for in this day?”

Maeryn sat silent, pondering his words.

“I will tell you this. They will enjoy a great deal more freedom than you did as the wife of Lemus. And under those circumstances, would you have called yourself a slave?”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that. What’s to become of me and Aelia?”

“I don’t know; I was only told of the others. I suspect that you will be given a few choices, but you need to be prepared to keep serving the Resistance as you have through the years. I’m sorry if you expected something more grandiose.”

“I’m not sure what I expected. How will you notify the headquarters?”

Thaddius shook his head. “I think I will leave that answer until another time.”

Maeryn started to protest but Thaddius was firm. “Such things are only discussed at the highest levels of authority and responsibility. You’re just going to have to trust me.” Rising to his feet, he brushed the sand from his clothes. “I will leave in the morning with the second group and will return as soon as possible.”

Maeryn watched him walk away and tossed the remainder of her soup into the sand. The weight of Thaddius’ words made her heart ache. She hadn’t really thought about it, but as his words sunk in, she realized that her expectations were inappropriate. She had wanted to go back to a life of true freedom, a life like she had with Adair. But it seemed that she had just traded one type of captivity for another.

* * * *

Leoran, the capital of Orud’s southern region, was spectacular to behold. It was a city built on a lake that was miles across at its widest span. Ivory colored stone walls rose from the lake’s glassy surface, separated every hundred yards by towers flying Orud’s red flag. Kael’s horse raced across acres of open field, heading for one of two roads spanning the water that separated the mainland from the city walls. As with any city, people tended to gather on the outskirts. Leoran was no different, with various sizes of buildings and tents strewn about the landscape with no apparent logic to their locations. Through this maze of civilization, Kael directed his horse until he reached the stone paved road leading across Lake Leoran.

After miles of travel and weeks of hunting for small game to satisfy his appetite, Kael arrived at the gates to the city. Well-guarded by a contingent of Leoran soldiers, the gate kept non-citizens and other rabble from even stepping foot on the road across the lake.

“Halt!” cried the soldiers, thrusting the points of their lances forward at an angle.

Kael pulled on the reigns and stopped his horse.

“Identify yourself,” demanded the soldiers.

“I am a scout for Dacien Gallus, Captain of the Guard of Bastul.”

After a few minutes of careful inspection of his belongings, the guards allowed Kael to pass. The road was over a mile in length and perfectly straight. Kael kicked his steed and sped to a gallop. The air was surprisingly still, and for the first time in weeks, Kael looked around and marveled at the beauty of the landscape. The smooth water reflected the bright sunlight and the golden grasses of the surrounding fields. There was a time when Kael thought more about such things, but the urgency of the situation flooded his mind and he found himself racing for the city walls.

As he closed within a hundred yards of the city walls, a small group of men exited the shadow of the entrance. One man waved his hand and Kael instantly recognized Dacien. Seconds later, Kael dismounted and grasped the hand of his new friend. But the fact that Caius and the other soldier were not present made the situation awkward.

“Where are they?” Dacien asked, turning to lead Kael into the city.

“I found the confirmation that I needed, but we were attacked. Caius was badly injured and the other man didn’t make it. Caius and I made it half of the way here before he was overcome with sickness. I saw him through the worst of it, but I had to leave him in order to reach you in time.”

Dacien looked skeptical but momentarily set it aside for the more obvious issue. “We’ll send someone back for him. In the meantime, come inside and rest and tell me the reason for your urgency; I’ll assume you had a good reason to leave one of my men alone and injured.”

Dacien’s idea of rest wasn’t nearly as luxurious as it sounded. Kael was hoping for a pub, but was instead taken to Dacien’s temporary quarters and given a plate of cheese and some wine. After a few swallows, Kael could feel his muscles relax.

“Alright,” he breathed, exhaustion showing. “We followed the river inland for three days…” Kael said, and continued to recount the happenings of the last few weeks, from the ambush to Caius’ sickness.

“Where did you leave him?”

“Three weeks back, along the route you followed here. You will find him in a shaded valley next to a stream.” Kael reached into his travel bag and pulled out Caius’ cloak. “He also gave me this and said you wouldn’t believe me otherwise.”

The disappointment of Dacien and the others in the room was tangible. It was as if the air was stolen from their lungs at the same moment. Dacien hung his head and when he raised it again, his eyes were holding back tears.

In that moment, Kael understood the significance of the cloak. “He didn’t intend to make it here alive…did he?”

Dacien confirmed Kael’s questions with a shake of his head. After a minute of silence, he straightened his shoulders as if to set aside his grief for another time. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and deep.

“You said there were hundreds of Syvaku moving on foot?”

“Yes. They were headed north, and based on what happened at Bastul, I believe they intend to attack Leoran.”

“They’ll need more than a few hundred to take this city,” argued another soldier. Kael didn’t recognize him and assumed he was a Leoran citizen.

Dacien looked back to Kael. “We have a few weeks at most. I will call a council with the General tonight and explain these things.”

Kael opened his mouth to speak, but Dacien held up his hand in protest. “I know, but your word won’t be trusted. I’ll tell him myself. Besides, with your hair and less-than-groomed manner of dress, you might be mistaken for a Syvak yourself!”

Kael scratched his beard. “I was meaning to ask you, where can I wash up?”

Kael was given an escort—or a guard as he saw it—to show him to a bath house. The baths were separated into two sections, one for the regular citizens and one for the military. The soldiers enjoyed many more comforts than the rest of the population, with servants waiting at full attention to tend to every need. After a quick swim, Kael moved to a small, fire-heated pool to relax his tired muscles. Almost instantly, his thoughts turned to Caius.

What courage. To face your death alone, without hesitation. And what was that look on Dacien’s face? Horror? Suspicion? I wonder what he thinks of me now! Just stay alive, Caius. You just need to make it until we send someone for you.

“Excuse me, Sir?”

Kael turned to the servant.

“Shave?” asked the man, showing Kael the razor.

Kael was about to send him away, but paused. “Please,” he accepted instead.

The night air was cool on Kael’s newly shaven face. Perhaps it was the bath, or his new look, which was sure to please Dacien. But for some reason, he felt good about where he was. Even though he had traveled for nearly a year to return to the city of his birth, only to find it demolished and his mother missing, he didn’t feel out of place. In fact, he felt like he belonged here.

He stopped walking and leaned over the stone wall. His guard stopped as well, always keeping a few paces of distance between them. Gazing out over the water, Kael smiled at the beauty of Leoran. Night had fallen and all along the banks of the lake, the firelight of numerous homes and businesses reflected off the water. He always felt the need to explore his surroundings and had spent the last few hours wandering the city with his silent companion. He was at once uplifted by the signs of life and saddened that these people were in danger.

There is always someone who seeks destruction!

Feeling a sudden sense of urgency, Kael headed back in the direction of Dacien’s living quarters in hopes that the General’s council had already met. He returned to an empty room, but didn’t have to wait long until Dacien returned.

“Well?”

Dacien slumped into a chair. “You look different.”

“So you approve?” Kael asked with a smile.

“Do you care?”

“Not really,” Kael admitted. “So what happened?”

“It was…strange.”

Kael raised his eyebrows. “Would you care to elaborate?”

“He wasn’t the least bit skeptical of your information.”

“Well that’s good news,” Kael replied, wondering what was the matter with his friend.

“He’s mustering an attack party to intercept the Syvaku, and he’s leading it. It was as if he was bored and wanted something to hunt. I cautioned him that this enemy is unpredictable, but his mind was already made up.”

“So when do we leave?” asked Kael.

“We don’t. The General wants to handle this matter with his own soldiers. He’s leaving at dawn.”

Kael felt a little relieved, but mostly offended at being excluded from this fight. “What did he say of Bastul?” he asked to change the topic.

Dacien straightened his posture. “We spoke of that before you arrived. He was sympathetic to the condition of the city. But he was also quick to point out that Bastul is one of the most remote cities in the Empire and not likely to receive much in the way of aid from Orud. It seems that we will have to rebuild slowly, using the resources available.”

A few minutes of thoughtful silence passed before Dacien rose from his chair. “I will see you in the morning. I’m sure the General could use some help getting started.”

Kael took the hint and headed for the door, only to find that his escort was waiting outside to see him to his own quarters. “Good evening,” he said to Dacien and walked out.

Morning came far too quickly for Kael, who awakened to a bright shaft of sunlight streaming in through an open window. He lay still for a few minutes, aware that he hadn’t slept this well in months. Suddenly, the realization struck him that he had overslept. Dacien had asked for his help, although not in a very eloquent manner.

Within seconds, Kael had donned his clothing and was headed out the door. Nearly tripping over his escort, Kael let out a laugh. His amusement wasn’t matched by the man who quickly straightened his clothing and proceeded to stand at attention. Kael brushed off the man’s sour demeanor and headed toward the stables.

The city was alive with activity; people were rushing here and there. For most, it would have been easy to get lost in a new place, especially with the change in appearance from night to day. But Kael possessed an ability to memorize his surroundings and rarely lost his way. Navigating the streets as if he was a citizen, he reached the stables without any hesitation, only to find them empty. “Where are they?” he asked aloud, mostly to himself.

“They’ve already left.”

Kael turned to his escort. “That would have been useful a few minutes ago.”

But once again, his companion had grown silent, as if he would only speak to point out Kael’s mistakes.

With all the morning’s bustle, it took nearly half an hour to reach the city gates. He found Dacien standing outside the walls on the road which spanned the lake. “Sorry. I must have overslept.”

Dacien dismissed the apology with a quick shake of his head. “It doesn’t matter. The General left before I could be of any help. There,” he said, pointing to the southwest. “You can see the rear of the party just before the forest edge.”

Kael scanned the horizon and caught sight of the standard bearer, just in front of the supply train. Kael shook his head in disapproval. “Is he expecting a long confrontation?”

“What do you mean?” Dacien replied.

“Why do they have a supply train?”

“So the animals aren’t over-burdened with the weight of the weapons and armor.”

Kael nodded, anticipating the answer.

“Would you care to elaborate?” asked Dacien with a smile.

Kael smiled in return, enjoying the banter developing between them. “A fully loaded wagon cannot move as fast as if each rider were to carry his own weapons. And given the terrain that they will encounter, they will need to be agile in their travel. Supply trains only make sense when staging long range campaigns against an enemy in flat open territory.”

“And where did you learn this philosophy of war?” Dacien asked, half joking and half serious.

Kael avoided the question. “I only mean that those men are vulnerable against the Syvaku and the way they fight.”

“Really? So if you were the enemy, how would you do it?”

“Attack the Leoran soldiers?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” Kael paused. “Since you ask, I would have scouts several miles out front. These men would see the Orud standard in plenty of time to relay their findings. I would then anticipate the path of the Leoran and stage an ambush in terrain that gives me an advantage. I would attack quickly at the supply train first and separate the soldiers from their weapons. Then, they would be nothing more than men on horses, no match for the fierce ground warfare style of the Syvaku.”

Dacien looked puzzled and skeptical at Kael’s answer.

Kael continued. “Anyway, I just fear for their lives. Who is this General and how much experience does he have?”

“Actually…” Dacien countered, “…he’s quite a formidable opponent. I can assure you that if he lacks anything in strategy, he more than makes up for with brawn. Big as an ox and just as strong. I have been told that he cannot be bested in hand-to-hand combat. No, I think he will do just fine against your Syvaku.

“Oh, my Syvaku?” Kael replied. In reality, they were his mother’s people and so he was related to the enemy, but he thought it best to keep this to himself.

“Come,” said Dacien. “You need breakfast; I can smell your hunger from here.”

“Well, I apologize for hurrying to your aid. Next time perhaps I will move at a more leisurely pace.” Even though his words spoke sarcasm, Kael felt embarrassed.

Chapter 10

The days passed by slowly for Maeryn as she watched the ocean from the security of her vantage point. She had many hours to herself to ponder Thaddius’ words and to prepare herself for the work that lay ahead. But these thoughts were distracted by the fact that Thaddius hadn’t yet returned and it had been seven days. The trip was only supposed to take six days and she was getting nervous. Watching until the sun went down, Maeryn returned to the camp for the evening meal and then retired to her bed. Aelia quickly fell asleep but Maeryn struggled for several hours.

Sometime in the early morning, Maeryn felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped and then realized that it was the evening watch, a younger male slave that had agreed to keep a lookout for Thaddius’ return.

Maeryn rose to her feet and quietly followed him out to the shoreline. Visibility was poor but she was just able to make out the small sailboats. They waited patiently and eventually the boats came to shore in a disorderly clump. The Resistance soldiers stumbled out of the ships with weak knees. Maeryn scanned the crowd for Thaddius, realizing that something was terribly wrong and wanting an answer. But Thaddius didn’t appear. Before she could say anything, one soldier approached her.

“My lady…” the man paused to catch his breath.

“Where is Thaddius? And what is wrong with your men?”

“My lady, we have taken ill…all of us. Thaddius was not well enough to make the trip.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The food, my lady… The supplies at the outpost are spoiled. We didn’t know until after… We’re dying!”

The soldier’s words trailed off as her mind began to spin with questions. What are we supposed to do? Should we continue to the outpost? Will we catch the sickness? Where are we supposed to go if not to our original destination?

“How many?”

“Only Thaddius and a handful of others are left.”

Maeryn looked to the sky and her emotions welled up, even though she knew that crying wouldn’t help the situation. “Thank you for coming back; I know it must have been difficult,” she managed to say.

“Of course, my lady. We had to return the boats. You still have a chance, but I don’t think we’re well enough for the return trip. It’s probably better to stay separated until…” The man stopped before stating the obvious.

“Thank you,” was all she could think to say.

The rest of the night was sleepless for Maeryn. She hadn’t bothered to wake anyone from her group. They would need their rest. After hours of great consternation, she knew that they had to continue on to Tur’cen. There was no going back; there never was! Once this decision was realized, Maeryn began to ponder the realities of reaching their ultimate goal in light of the current grave situation. Getting to the outpost was the easy part. From there, they would have to quarantine the sick from the rest of the group, discard the food and set out to replenish the food stores with fresh supplies. Winter was fast approaching and starting from scratch would make for a tough season. With any luck, Thaddius and the others would pull through.

That’s when it hit her. What if Thaddius died before she arrived? He was the only one who knew the protocol for contacting the Resistance leader. Without Thaddius, this whole trip was meaningless!

The sun had just risen when Maeryn awoke. The smell of cooking food told her that the rest of the camp was already stirring. Aelia was gone and probably helping with the breakfast. She felt exhausted and didn’t remember coming to her bed, but she had apparently returned at some point during the night. Almost immediately, her fears about Thaddius returned and she realized that for all her worry, she hadn’t reached a conclusion during the night.

After a few minutes of walking, she came to the secluded place where the soldiers had retired for the evening. An eerie feeling crept over her as she saw that all of the men were still lying down. She hoped that they were just tired from their trip across the channel, but the smell of vomit confirmed her worst fears.

“They’re all dead,” she heard herself say. Their lifeless skin looked pale in the morning light, as though bleached by the sun. She was at once overcome with grief for these men, who had suffered an evening of agony, and fear for herself and the others that remained. Thaddius was likely dead and that meant that they were lost, stranded in the middle of nowhere, hiding from an empire that would kill all of them for their rebellion. It was too much. There was no one to impress and no way to be positive about the situation. The tears began to flow and she couldn’t stop them. Her cry turned into a wail and she collapsed on the sand.

Why did Adair leave me? Why can’t I go back to the only happy time in my life? He was everything. Since he left, all I’ve managed to do is survive. And now even that prospect has changed.

Long moments of silence passed before Maeryn finally rose to her feet. Her face was dry and she felt relieved somehow. She had tried for so long to be brave and had lived through her fear. And now she had come to the realization that she could die at any moment. There was no way to go back to the life she had with her first husband. That was past and though it saddened her, she also felt a sense of satisfaction at having experienced those happy times. Adair, Kael, and Bastul were gone, as well as Thaddius and all of his soldiers. All she had now was Aelia, her new friends, and a renewed sense of purpose. She couldn’t change the past, but she was willing to die to change the future. She would make sure that these free people would survive, and if it was possible, she would be happy again. But first, there was much work to do.

* * * *

After almost a week in the beautiful city of Leoran, Kael was starting to feel at home. However, the sense of belonging quickly faded with the first signs of bad news. Refugees from the northwest coastal cities began arriving in scattered groups. As these displaced citizens of the Empire brought their necessities with them, they also carried stories of the blonde barbarians who had ransacked their homes and destroyed their towns. With each passing day, Kael’s understanding of the scope of this crisis deepened. There were several groups of barbarians moving throughout the southwest region, not just the group from Bastul.

In the absence of the General, Dacien commanded the remaining soldiers of the city and placed them in support of the efforts to house the travelers and to heal the wounded. Eventually, the arrivals slowed and stopped altogether and as soon as the city closed its gates Dacien sought Kael’s council.

Kael waited at the southern wall, overlooking Lake Leoran and the reflected light from the evening activity along the shoreline.

“These are strange times, my friend.”

Kael nodded silently.

“Never did I think that I would see the day an enemy dared to attack the Empire.” Dacien let out an exhausted sigh. “I’ve seen my share of skirmishes, but they’ve been minor by comparison. This…this is something else.”

Kael didn’t respond. It wasn’t that he was trying to keep silent; he just didn’t know what to say.

Dacien seemed to understand and continued to talk anyway. He had a way of putting people at ease when he wanted to. After a few minutes of one-sided conversation, they were interrupted by one of Dacien’s soldiers.

“Excuse me, Sir!”

Dacien nodded for the man to continue.

“Sir, you should come with me and hear for yourself. We have just received urgent news from Ampur.”

Dacien followed at a brisk pace with Kael close behind. As they walked, Kael’s mind was racing. He had noted a few days prior a pattern to the arrival of refugees. The first groups came from the north, and each successive group from cities and towns farther to the northwest. Ampur was situated almost directly west of Leoran and Kael guessed that the barbarians were moving southwest and sacking every town they crossed, thereby displacing the citizens and sending them to the capital city of the southern region for shelter.

The walk took only minutes before they reached the town hall. A small group of soldiers was gathered around a man who had clearly ridden hard to deliver his message. His face and clothes were speckled with mud and his eyes were red around the edges.

Dacien stepped into the circle and introduced himself as the ranking officer in charge. “I understand you bring news from Ampur?” Before the man could speak, Dacien called for some wine and then turned his attention back to the stranger.

“Ampur was sacked four days ago by an army of barbarians. We think they are Syvak.”

“Yes. We’ve been housing refugees from cities to your north and east. How large was the army?”

The exhausted man took the cup of wine offered by an attendant, but appeared too distraught to drink it. “…perhaps eight hundred.”

This response met with whistles and exasperations throughout the crowd, but the man continued talking.

“But they haven’t stopped. After Ampur, they turned east. I only managed to survive because I had a mount. They’re moving on foot and I believe they are heading for this city.”

Dacien was already nodding in confirmation, anticipating the man’s message of impending doom. “Thank you for your warning and your courage. We will see to it that you are taken care of. Is there any other information?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then we will leave you to get some rest.”

“Thank you, Sir,” the man replied with relief.

“Guards,” Dacien shouted. “Make preparations for additional housing. In the morning, I want you to bring all Leoran citizens inside the city gates and make them as comfortable as possible. Lieutenants, we will meet in the war room in half an hour.”

The group immediately dispersed at Dacien’s orders and went to their various tasks.

The war room was an essential fixture in every major city within the Orud Empire. It was a gathering place for strategic military planning. Though the surroundings varied, every war room contained, as its focal point, a map of the surrounding terrain on a raised platform in the center of the room. The map was the result of years of tedious observation and documentation of the city, the lake and the nearby forests and mountain ranges. And it was around this map that Dacien, Kael, and the Lieutenants were gathered.

“We were notified that perhaps eight hundred barbarians are approaching afoot from the west. Given that Ampur was attacked only four days ago, I would estimate that they will reach the shores of Leoran in less than a week. We have also confirmed that a smaller army of two to three hundred is approaching from the south. But given their distance, we must first make preparations to address the army from the west without the help of the General. Secondly, we must also be prepared if the army from the south is not stopped. Altogether, we might need to withstand an attack of one thousand or more. If this is a coordinated attack, we may not have the option of dealing with these two groups separate from each other. These are the scenarios that I see. Does anyone have anything else to add?”

Without any arguments or other input, Dacien launched into planning for the first scenario. Immediately, Kael was struck with a sense of familiarity. How many years did he plan and strategize warfare in this manner. And just as when he was young, he held back his opinions as this was not his strength. He marveled at how Dacien commanded authority and moved from one preparation to the next in a logical fashion. He began with an assessment of Leoran’s resources from cavalry and foot soldiers, to the possible uses of the small naval fleet that could control the massive expanse of water surrounding the city. There were only a few instances of disagreement between the Lieutenants, which Dacien diffused in seconds, quickly finding a solution that met everyone’s needs. After two hours of planning, the soldiers agreed to the strategy and retired for the evening.

Kael went back to his quarters and lay awake for the majority of the night. Even though he knew to leave these large scale matters to others more equipped than himself, his mind continued to work on the problem at hand. It was like chewing a tough piece of meat, lots of work with no progress.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep, but when he was awakened to the sound of alarm, he felt as though it couldn’t have been more than an hour. An attendant led him back to the war room where he found a smaller group of men than the night before, as well as a few new faces. At first glance it was obvious who these men were. There were six in all, four of them with minor wounds. When Kael came within earshot of the group he picked up on the conversation.

“…no. It happened so fast! We were moving up a mountain pass through a dense forest. They came out of nowhere and attacked at our rear. They stole our supply train and rode the wagons back down the pass. We tried to pursue but they cut the legs of our horses out from under us.”

Sounds of disapproval rose from the group at the mention of such treachery. The Empire took great pride in their horses, as they were one of the main distinctions between it and other nations’ military forces. Their cavalry gave them a distinct advantage over foot soldiers. However, Kael understood the lack of respect on the part of the Syvaku. Their pride was their navy. Being a seagoing people, they had no use for horses.

“After that, we were trapped. Our only weapons were our spears, which were too long in such a tight space. They picked us off one by one until we left the cover of the forest.”

“And what of the General?” Dacien asked.

The man hung his head in shame. “Our archers were at the front of the column when the attack started. The first volley wasn’t well organized and someone hit the General by accident; he didn’t even have the chance to fight.”

Dacien looked shocked. And in that instant, their worst case scenario became a reality. After a few seconds of stunned silence, Dacien turned to make eye contact with Kael. Slowly, his questioning look was replaced by determination.

In that same instant, Kael realized another result of these events. The capital cities didn’t have Colonels. And with the General’s death, and that of his Captains, Dacien became the highest ranking officer in the southern region by default. It wasn’t just that these soldiers were looking to him as an experienced officer, but now they were obligated to follow his command under Orud law. Now, with this quick twist of fate, Dacien inherited the position of General and all the responsibilities and problems associated with it. Despite the weight of the consequences, Dacien seemed unfazed, concerned only with how to handle the current situation.

* * * *

When the Syvak warlord arrived at the southeastern shores of Leoran with the remnants of his army, he found that his other forces from the west had already arrived. They were eight hundred strong, much larger than the ranks that he had been traveling with. But that was to be expected. He anticipated Bastul to be much more difficult than the other coastal cities. So far, everything was going as planned.

Following the example of the forces already in place along the north shore, the warlord instructed his men to raid and set fire to every wooden structure along the outskirts of the city. Once this was accomplished, the remainder of the day was filled with the felling of trees, erecting temporary shelters and other such activities to support a long-term siege.

While the Syvaku soldiers worked to secure the eastern entrance to the city, the warlord rode north to make contact with his other army already in position for the attack. As he rode his massive steed, he noted that the Leoran army was making no attempts to defend the city. The soldiers simply stood atop the city walls and watched from the safety and separation of miles of water. Perhaps they were confident that their location would protect them. Indeed, the only way to reach the city was via the two roads extending from the north and southwest walls of the city, each stretching more than a mile. But soon, everything would be in place and the city’s unique location wouldn’t matter.

With the following morning came the unusual sight of three Syvak warships anchored near the northern entrance. This would have given the barbarian warlord more confidence, if not for the fact that the number should have been twenty. Apparently, the Leoran soldiers had anticipated this avenue of invasion and had sunk large, sharpened timbers in various spots along the river that fed into the north end of the lake. And though the Syvak were experts at navigating nature’s obstructions, man-made traps were altogether different. This angered the warlord as he hadn’t anticipated his enemy’s ability to prepare for the same attack that he had used on another city, hundreds of miles to the south.

By midday, the Syvak armies were in motion. They had gained confidence with the arrival of their warships. The foot soldiers marched past the entrances to the north and southeast and proceeded along their respective courses. The larger northern army was escorted by two of their vessels, one on either side of the raised road. The third warship escorted the smaller army. Not surprisingly, the Leoran guard didn’t confront them until they neared the city walls. Just as they came within range, the Leoran began volleys of arrows. Because of the elevation difference, the Syvaku had to get closer to the walls before they could return fire. And though they were not protected by city walls, as were the Leorans, they were well protected by animal skin shields supported on wooden frames held over their heads.

In the ensuing hours of conflict, it became apparent that they couldn’t match the strength and accuracy of the Leoran archers. After losing one hundred and fifty men to the first attack, the Syvak General pulled his men back from the gates to regroup. A few hours later, he ordered the second attack, this time with makeshift siege ladders, courtesy of the nearby forests. The warships stayed just out of arrow range and supported the new efforts of the foot soldiers by using small catapults to launch boulders over the tops of the walls. This ingenious use of the war-machines originally intended for land combat soon proved its worth as it began to take its toll on the Leoran guard.

By midday, the larger northern army managed to get their siege ladder raised against the city walls and looked to be on the verge of breaching the gate. But suddenly, one of the warships burst into flames and the foot soldiers lost their confidence. It seemed that the Leoran soldiers also had catapults and were adept at the use of flaming pitch. And as all the attention was diverted to this flaming mass atop the water, the General almost failed to notice another of his warships sinking into the lake.

The flaming ship also served as a diversion to the start of another of Leoran’s defenses. Unused during the earlier skirmish, massive trebuchets mounted atop the city walls began launching iron spears out into the lake. The Syvak General saw the momentum of the battle starting to turn in favor of the Leoran soldiers and quickly ordered his men to retreat. As the sun began to set, the warlord called his Captains to his large tent along the northern shore and planned their next attack. The meeting lasted several hours and after it was concluded, the two Syvak camps grew silent with exhaustion. After a difficult and fruitless day, the invaders slept soundly, vowing to take up their struggle with the light of the next day.

The General was awakened to the sounds of screaming. The massive soldier rose from his bed and stood a full seven feet tall. His blonde hair was braided in a thick knot that ran down to the middle of his muscled back. It took only seconds to don his uniform, consisting mainly of animal skins and a chain-mail shirt. He grabbed his double-bladed battle-axe and ran from his tent.

Immediately, his ears were assaulted by a deafening hum that came and went in waves. He did his best to ignore the sound and tried to get an understanding of the status of his army. As he glanced around, he could see dozens of his men struggling on the ground pierced by arrows. Looking toward the city, he was surprised to see the sails of small ships filling the lake. The Leoran navy had sailed within bow range while his army slept and were raining arrows down upon his forces. At once he cursed himself for this oversight and the Leoran for their creativity.

He barked orders to his men to raise their shields and regroup out of the range of the boats. The sky was growing light to the east before the northern army managed to pull back from their temporary dwellings and rally to their leader. But something didn’t seem right. His soldiers continued to fall, pierced with arrows. It was as if the Leoran archers had doubled their range. And how were their arrows finding their marks now that his men had their shields?

In that instant, the rising sun crested the mountains to the east, throwing morning light across the landscape. Suddenly, the Syvak warlord noticed hundreds of points of light glinting across the lake on the eastern shore—the cavalry of Leoran riding around the lake in his direction. And then it dawned on him! He turned around and gazed into the forest to the north and finally understood what had been troubling him. A second group of Leoran archers were hidden in the woods. His forces were being assaulted from two directions. And just behind the archers, another unit of mounted soldiers!

* * * *

Kael lowered his spear and yelled. “Charge!”

Suddenly, the entire cavalry jumped into action, as if they were one being. The perfection of it was awe-inspiring. They broke from between the ranks of archers and exited the forest with spears lowered. Within seconds they overtook the barbarians, running them to the ground. Kael left his spear in the first barbarian and continued forward, slashing and stabbing with his sword. Its short and broad construction was designed for stabbing in close quarters combat, but was also highly effective in this situation where the enemy was packed in tight groups. The Syvak didn’t have any time to prepare a defense and fell quickly to the cavalry.

Without seeing, Kael sensed movement to his right and instantly dropped his head. The whistle of a passing axe blade sounded in his ear, immediately followed by a jolt, as something rammed into his horse. He struggled to keep his grip and managed a glance behind after regaining his seating. In the midst of the confrontation, the retreating Syvak warlord plowed through the Leoran cavalry. He was almost standing in the saddle of his enormous steed, cutting a path through the soldiers with a long, double-bladed battle axe. He swung the weapon with a two handed stroke from side to side. One after another, the Leoran riders fell before this monster, while his massive horse charged forward without any direction from the reigns. Two of the warlord’s Captains followed in the wake of their General and the three burst out of the fray and into the open land, veering northeast to avoid the Leoran archers in the forest.

Kael looked to the east and caught sight of Dacien leading the other unit. He lifted his sword into the air and Dacien returned the gesture. Kael immediately spun his horse around and dug his heels into the steed’s flanks. Immediately, he was thrown into motion. Moving low in the saddle, he reached down and pulled a spear from the body of a dead barbarian. Sheathing this in a thong built into the saddle, he steered toward a less dense part of the battle and broke into a full run. After clearing the struggle, he headed toward the northern forest.

“I need a bow,” he yelled to a nearby archer. And just as he reached the archer, the man un-slung his quiver and held both up in the air. Kael grabbed the bundle in passing and made a mental note to find the man and thank him later.

The sounds of warfare quickly faded into the distance as Kael entered the forest. Although he raced at top speed in pursuit of the barbarian leader, all was eerily silent. The cool autumn air rushed past his face and the morning sunlight filtered through the trees, throwing a sparkling light into his eyes. Under different circumstances, this would have been an enjoyable ride.

A familiar feeling now took over, a calm but intense awareness that he had become accustomed to over the years. Every tree and every leaf on every tree could be felt, as though they were extensions of Kael’s own body. And there, only twenty yards ahead, was something that felt out of place. As he neared in proximity, his sense grew more accurate. And then there was movement.

Instinctively, Kael dove to the left, moving his body out of the path of danger, clinging to the side of his saddle with all his might. From behind a tree, an axe cut through the air where his abdomen used to be and glanced off of his right leg, still exposed atop the saddle. Kael winced as the steel bit into his flesh, but managed to retain his grip. Pulling himself upright with one swift movement, Kael spurred his horse on, knowing that he had to keep up his speed in order to catch the warlord.

A brief glance over his shoulder confirmed that it was one of the barbarian’s Captains that stayed behind for the ambush. The man, stunned by his inability to dispatch such an easy target, paused for a second before taking up the chase.

The forest opened into a wide meadow and Kael could see the other two men hundreds of yards ahead. As soon as they noticed their enemy hadn’t been stopped by the ambush, the second Captain veered off course and circled around, charging back to face Kael. The leader continued north, disappearing behind a rising knoll.

Kael let go of the reins and set an arrow to the bow string. As his horse continued forward, Kael rose in his saddle and twisted around, drawing his bow on the Captain behind him.

A warrior must always retain his grip on the reins!

The words of an old mentor came to his mind, and with them, a rising anger. Kael loosened his stance to take up the surging of his steed and closed his eyes, feeling the path of the arrow. And when he found a connection between himself and his target, he loosed his arrow.

One… two… three… four, he counted in his head, before the Captain pitched backward with an arrow sprouting from his neck. And just that quick, the anger left him, and only the intensity of the present was left.

Turning back around, he quickly surmised that the second Captain was now too close to draw another arrow. With the bow in his left hand, he pulled the spear from its sheath with his right.

The charging enemy pulled his axe free and leaned forward in his saddle, preparing for the impending clash.

Kael held the spear under his arm, letting the barbarian see the lance and draw his own conclusions. Within seconds they were upon each other.

Just before impact, Kael wrenched the reins to the left and spun the lance over his head, bringing it into a slashing motion. The Syvak, anticipating Kael’s attack to be a frontal stabbing motion, had already committed to his movements with his shield across his chest and a desperate swing for Kael’s midsection.

Kael, out of the man’s reach, extended his arm and spear, swinging over the barbarian’s attack to slash the side of his throat. The only flesh that wasn’t protected by chain mail yielded easily to the nine inch blade on the end of the spear. Kael didn’t even bother to look back, knowing instantly that his enemy was dead. He sheathed his lance once again and set another arrow to the bow, all the while maintaining his speed.

After topping the grassy knoll, Kael could see the warlord a hundred yards ahead. He had gained on the retreating enemy, apparently due to the breed of horse and its enormous rider. The tufts of hair around the animal’s hoofs were indicative of a northern breed meant for pulling large loads, not racing across open ground. Kael drew back his bow, but couldn’t get the same sense of accuracy that he had only seconds ago. He aimed high and loosed his bolt anyway, and wasn’t surprised when it glanced harmlessly off the Syvak’s chain mail seconds later. The giant barbarian didn’t even flinch as he charged into the nearby forest, disappearing behind the leaves.

Kael caught up quickly and dashed into the forest, his sleeker animal at an advantage in this terrain as well. Minutes later, he came upon a small cliff and followed the edge to the northwest. As the trees cleared, he caught sight of the warlord heading down a landslide of loose gravel and sand, descending quickly into the shallow canyon. Kael only had one second to decide.

Without hesitation, he drew his bow and released. The bolt struck the enemy’s horse in the right shoulder and the beast flinched, losing its footing. As it began to fall, the Syvak warlord rose in his saddle and jumped from the animal. Kael rode to the top of the landslide just in time to see the cloud of dust and the commotion of the animal struggling to regain its footing. Kael slowed his pace and descended carefully into the canyon in pursuit.

As the dust settled, Kael could see the warlord face-down in the wet sand. A small stream ran through the bottom of the canyon, only ankle deep in most places. The man’s horse had stopped at the bank on the far side of the canyon only fifteen yards away. Kael’s shot had been perfect, not enough to lame the animal, but just enough to make it lose its balance. With some care, the animal would be as good as new.

Kael discarded the bow, the last arrow having served its purpose. Pulling the lance from its sheath, he urged his horse forward. The Syvak leader was sprawled on the damp earth, a battle-axe slung across his back. Kael looked for a gap in the chain mail, finding it at the pit of his left arm. Aiming, he thrust his lance forward.

Suddenly, the barbarian spun over and caught the blade of the spear with his hand and pulled it free of Kael’s grasp.

The unexpected movement pulled Kael off of his balance and he fell forward out of his saddle. There was no way to recover, and though he tried to hit the ground in a roll, he wasn’t quick enough.

The barbarian’s foot crashed into his right side and Kael felt his ribs break.

Satisfied with his attack, the Syvak backed away to watch Kael suffer and struggle for air. It was the Syvak way to build fear into their prey before the kill. As Kael moved from the ground to his hands and knees, the giant reached slowly behind his head and pulled on a leather thong, releasing his battle-axe from its sheath. Slowly, methodically, the giant walked to his horse and retrieved his circular shield, knowing that Kael wasn’t going anywhere.

In contrast, Kael felt as though everything was happening much too fast. He struggled to catch his breath, only to find that his lung capacity was greatly reduced. Each breath invited a piercing pain through his abdomen, followed by muscle spasms that prevented him from satisfying his lungs’ need for air. Pushing through the pain, he managed to crawl over to his spear lying in the stream. Grabbing it, he rose to his feet and turned to confront the barbarian.

The Syvak stood a full head taller than Kael and was now holding his double-bladed axe in one hand and a giant shield in the other. Kael knew that he was disadvantaged against his opponent in almost every way, not to mention that he could hardly move without excruciating pain. He grabbed the spear with both hands and crouched into a defensive posture.

The Syvak rushed in swinging his axe in a flat arc. Kael jumped out of range, but was disappointed to see that the barbarian allowed the axe to continue its motion as it spun back around and over the man’s head. He never put his full weight behind the attack, and therefore never let his own momentum work against him.

Smart. This is going to be more difficult than I hoped.

The minutes passed in agony as the Syvak pushed Kael across the valley and up against the northeastern bank. Normally, it would have been Kael’s strategy to let the barbarian attack and expend his energy, but in Kael’s weakened condition, he was expending much more energy just to stay out of reach.

Suddenly, the Syvak attacked with a full force blow.

Kael moved instinctively, at the sharp protest of his body, and dodged the attack. The axe swung wide and Kael moved in, battering the barbarian’s knuckles with the shaft of the spear.

The Syvak dropped the axe, but quickly pulled his shield up to deflect Kael’s next jab, while moving inside of Kael’s effective weapon range.

The shield dropped just in time for Kael to see a massive fist crash into his face. He fell backward, but quickly rolled to the side, dodging the sound of splashing footsteps. Stumbling away from his enemy, Kael stalled to allow time for his vision to return.

The barbarian was now ten paces away and advancing slowly, more cautious of Kael’s abilities, even in his weakened state, though Kael didn’t share the man’s perception. A quick evaluation of his condition told him that he was in trouble. His nose was certainly broken. The ribs along his right side were crushed, and the leg wound from the forest ambush was bleeding heavily.

The Syvak continued to advance, shield raised, with nothing more than bruised knuckles.

Kael backed away from him, scanning the ground for something to use as a weapon, unsure of where his spear had gone. And there in the water, lay a bundle that had traveled with Kael for many years. He always kept it with him and it must have fallen in the initial struggle as he was pulled from his horse. Kael bent down and grabbed hold of the long, narrow wooden case. He opened it quickly and unwrapped its contents as he kept his eyes on the Syvak.

But the barbarian leader wasn’t foolish enough to allow his enemy the chance to produce another weapon. He rushed in immediately. Kael quickly pulled the ancient weapon free of its ceremonial wrappings and held it out in front of himself. The Syvak stopped his approach for a moment, then reconsidered when he saw the condition of Kael’s weapon.

Kael felt desperate as he held up the monstrosity of a sword. It was completely foreign looking to this region, with a narrow and curved blade, whose texture was mottled. The guard was elaborate, but looked fragile and the handle was wrapped with a rough thread for grip. In truth, the ceremonial sword was not intended to function as a weapon and was a gift given by an old friend. Kael felt horrible for allowing it to be used as such, but he was indeed desperate.

But the warlord had allowed this fight to last for too long and had grown impatient. At the sight of Kael’s ridiculous weapon, he lunged forward and swung his shield at Kael in a back-handed motion. Kael met this attack with a slash of his sword, burying it into the shield.

The barbarian cursed in pain and jerked the shield backward, taking Kael’s weapon with it.

Kael backed away in disbelief as the man dropped his shield with the embedded sword, blood pouring from a gash on his forearm. Something about this strange turn of events emboldened Kael and suddenly, his senses were heightened. He circled around to the west of the barbarian and backed away to plan his attack.

The Syvak saw what was happening and smiled, apparently pleased at the opportunity to kill this pest with his bare hands.

Bursting into motion, Kael surged through the shallow water and broke into a full run.

The barbarian grinned and lunged forward to meet Kael, dropping his head for a tackle.

Just before they met, Kael sprang from the ground into a pivoting flip and in one fluid motion, caught hold of the barbarian’s head and spun it backwards with a crunch as the skull separated from the spine. The flipping motion carried him over the top of the Syvak’s body as both men crashed to the ground with a dull thud.

Kael lay still for several minutes still tangled with the lifeless body of the Syvak warlord. All was silent except for the sound of running water and the rustle of leaves. Kael’s heart pounded while his breath came in ragged gasps. Slowly, he released his grip on the man’s face and rose to his feet. The pain in his ribs intensified and he knew that he had caused even greater damage to himself with this final attack.

Both Kael’s horse and the barbarian’s had kept their distance from the fighting, but hadn’t run off. Kael left the body and stumbled over to the Syvak’s shield. The sword was still embedded in the splintered wood. Kael reached down and wrenched it free, inspecting the damage. The metal of the blade had flaked off in several places, the edges curled back to reveal a dark, glass-like material. It looked like a child’s replica, covered in metal to make it look more authentic.

Strange. It was unfortunate that he had resorted to using the gift in such a way, but he would have it repaired at the soonest opportunity. He gathered the original wrappings for the sword and placed it back into its wooden container, securing it with a leather strap.

Surveying his surroundings, he could see evidence of their struggle everywhere—footprints, discarded weapons, and even splatters of blood on the sand. He walked to the Syvak’s body and stood over it, marveling at the strength and skill of this foe. Fighting was usually simple for Kael, and rarely did his opponents present a challenge. But this one…he was a worthy adversary! The barbarian’s body was sprawled on his back, with his head twisted and facing down toward the sand. Kael bent down and grabbed the head by the hair and rotated the face into a more natural position. The flowing water had rinsed the blood and dirt from the skin and left the face pale, but clean.

Kael allowed his gaze to linger for a moment before standing up. Then suddenly, he felt a pang of recognition.

Bending down, he lifted the man’s right hand and pulled back the leather shirt sleeve. Scanning the skin of his forearm, he found confirmation of what he feared. There on the skin was a two-inch scar running parallel with the protrusion of muscle. Kael dropped the dead arm and stood, feeling sickened.

Narian!

Images flashed through Kael’s mind, memories from his time at the monastery. He could see Narian dueling with Ukiru and losing his temper. The mentor taught the student a quick lesson in the danger of a bladed weapon. The wound healed quickly but left a scar and served as a reminder to all the students that their instructor was not to be confronted in anger. So many of their lessons revolved around controlling one’s emotions. But Kael couldn’t control the emotions rising in him now. He wished he could confront his old mentor and fight to the death. Even if he didn’t prevail, Kael wanted the chance for revenge.

* * * *

Dacien, though exhausted from the fight, never stopped until the battlefield was rid of the bodies of the enemy. These were thrown on a fire and not given the earthen burial that his soldiers received. By midmorning, the majority of the fields were cleared and Dacien began to worry about his friend. Kael had chased after the barbarian leader hours ago, and hadn’t yet returned. He feared the worst and so kept working to rid his mind of the pointless questions plaguing him.

By midday, Dacien had resolved to ride north with a search party the following day to find Kael’s body and give him a proper burial. But then, a murmur rose within the crowd of soldiers and Leoran citizens working around the lake shore. The murmur slowly rose to cheering and Dacien stopped to see what was happening.

Relief washed over him when he looked north and saw his friend atop a trotting horse at the edge of the forest. Though he had only just met Kael a few months ago, he felt a strange kinship with him. Dacien had lost a few soldiers this day, but the possibility of losing Kael saddened him greatly.

As these thoughts crossed his mind, he noticed a second horse being led behind Kael’s. As Kael reached the shores of Lake Leoran and could be seen clearly, Dacien could see he held a spear upright with something large on the end. It was several minutes before Dacien realized that it was the barbarian’s head. The crowd cheered with a riotous noise, but Kael didn’t react. He simply rode forward, leading the Syvak’s enormous horse, and behind it, a makeshift litter carrying the warlord’s body.

Dacien rushed to his friend, calling for the crowd to give him some room.

Blood poured from a gash in Kael’s leg. His nose was clearly broken and his face stained with blood, turning purple and beginning to swell.

Dacien instantly felt compassion and pride for his friend. The beheading was hard to stomach though and was not a practice of the Orud Empire, one of the things separating them from other barbaric nations. But it seemed to be effective as Dacien could tell that it earned Kael a mixture of fear and reverence from the Leoran soldiers. The citizens seemed more appalled than anything.

Grabbing the reins of Kael’s horse, Dacien looked up and made eye contact with his friend, who only stared blankly in return, as though he were looking through Dacien. Kael didn’t seem like the kind of person to be bothered by intense warfare, but it was clear that something was deeply wrong.

“You can rest now. Come back inside the city,” was all he could think to say.

Chapter 11

The weeks passed quickly for Maeryn as she carried out her plans on the island of Tur’cen. Just as anticipated, Thaddius and the other two thirds of the freed slaves were dead when Maeryn arrived. It was a horrific sight, made worse by the fact that the bodies had to be moved away from the encampment and buried. Maeryn did her best to organize the remaining members, now only one hundred and fifty, into groups for providing food, water and shelter. After the many weeks of traveling, the group had become quite efficient in providing for itself. Maeryn was relieved that they had become self-reliant and didn’t require much in the way of leadership. But despite this, they still looked at her with great admiration, though she didn’t know why. Her only conclusion was that they were counting on her to deliver them, and she was committed to doing just that.

Following three grueling weeks of labor, Maeryn left Aelia and the group and set sail for Orud. She took with her two older men, experienced in sailing and fishing in the bay of Bastul. The air had grown cold and winter was fast approaching. Though it wasn’t smart to sail during this time of year, or to travel in general, everyone knew the gravity of their situation. After discarding all the original supplies at the outpost, they were too far behind to store up enough food for the winter. Aelia was in tears when Maeryn left, but it was understood that if Maeryn wasn’t successful in her quest, none would survive the winter. She gave them specific instructions to be diligent in their foraging and fishing, and to gather wood to keep the fires burning. This was not a time to relax, but a time to survive.

And after a heartfelt goodbye, Maeryn left for Orud in one of their small sailing vessels to make the arrangements that Thaddius spoke of. She hadn’t a clue how to make contact, but remembered what Thaddius had said about the Resistance headquarters being in the temple of Equitus. She knew nothing of the protocols for making contact, but there were no other options.

After enduring two weeks of freezing nights and eating only what could be caught on the way, Maeryn arrived in Orud. At once, she encountered feelings of relief and fear. The presence of a bustling city excited her after living on the run for the past months. At the same time, she was a fugitive hoping to make contact with an underground movement working against the Empire, and for this reason she carried a secret that could cost her her life. In spite of this, Maeryn tried her best to stroll with confidence down the streets of the city with her two slaves following loyally behind her as they were expected to. She knew that they wouldn’t pass careful social examination as they were dirty from their travels and not presentable to the general public. But she hoped to blend in and keep from being noticed.

Without so much as a warm meal, Maeryn asked directions to the temple and walked straight to it. The afternoon sun was warm on her skin and the white stone of the temple walls reflected intensely. There were no people outside the temple which made her feel even more nervous. Her stomach growled, followed by an intense wave of hunger, but she swallowed hard and marched up the steps. Her companions waited outside as they weren’t allowed in places of worship.

Once inside, the intense sunlight gave way to a soft glow coming from colored glass in the ceiling. The interior was circular with a giant statue of Equitus in the center. She was reclining on a rock, bare-breasted, holding scales in one hand, the other outstretched with her palm upward, as if to suggest that she would accept the petitions of those seeking justice and equality. The temple was almost empty, except for a man on his knees at the opposite end, and a small group to Maeryn’s left.

She looked around the room to see if there were any clues as to how she should proceed, but there was nothing. After circling the building and examining the walls and all sides of the statue, Maeryn found herself back at the entrance. She received only a few curious stares from the worshipers, but otherwise was ignored.

“I have a message to deliver,” she announced suddenly. Her voice rang out in the quiet marble interior.

The others in the building glanced at her, shocked by the disturbance of their silence. A soft voice from one of the women replied. “The Lady will hear your petitions.”

“No. I want to speak with someone.”

“Sister,” called the man from across the room. “Didn’t I ask you to wait for me?” Rising to his feet, he walked briskly toward Maeryn. “I am sorry, ladies. My sister is not well and doesn’t understand.”

Three of the women just stared in disgust, but one nodded in acknowledgement of his words.

“Sister,” he said, taking Maeryn by the arm and leading her outside. “Please don’t disturb these worshipers…” His words trailed off as soon as they were out of temple. “What do you think you are doing?” he asked in a low whisper. He was clearly enraged. “Who are you?”

“I’m sorry,” Maeryn replied. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“WHO ARE YOU?” he asked, his voice rising as he eyed the slaves suspiciously.

Maeryn wasn’t sure if she was speaking to the right person, but decided to risk everything. She didn’t know how else to proceed. “Thaddius is dead. All of his men are dead.”

The man’s expression softened. “Is this some sort of prank? Who do you think I am?”

Maeryn ignored his words and proceeded to explain her situation. “I am Maeryn, the Governess of Bastul. I took five hundred slaves and fled from Bastul with Thaddius and several soldiers…”

The man quickly put a finger to Maeryn’s lips and glanced over his shoulder. No one was near the temple and they were obviously alone. “Come with me and don’t speak another word until you are instructed.”

Turning quickly, he walked around the building and entered a garden of dense vines through an iron gate. Maeryn looked to her two companions, then followed. Trees lined the perimeter of a low stone wall, just tall enough to offer privacy. The layout, like most others in Orud architecture was circular. Vines all but covered the wall, showing only the occasional patch of white stone. At the center of the garden was a fountain with a smaller statue of Equitus rising from the water.

The man held out his hand, indicating that they should stay and wait for him. He angled over to where the garden intersected with the temple building and disappeared from sight behind the trees. After a few minutes he came back.

“Come with me.”

Again, Maeryn followed with her two companions. Once past the trees, the wall opened into a short and narrow doorway. Their escort stood to the side and beckoned them to enter. Maeryn could see that the vines had been moved away to reveal this secret place. Stooping to fit through the doorway, she was startled by a presence inside to her right. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out a bladed spear and the dull glint of light reflected off armor. Though this should have evoked fear, she was relieved that they were in the right place. The man was obviously a Resistance guard.

After all were inside the crowded space, their escort led them down an unlit passage. Following only the sound of footsteps, Maeryn began to feel trapped. Then slowly the light returned. The footing changed to a descending staircase and the walls opened to reveal a small cavern. Everywhere she looked, Maeryn saw ancient symbols chiseled into the stone, looking menacing in the flickering torchlight. She wondered if they had any significance to the Resistance, or if they had merely adopted this place as their home.

“Please wait here,” the man said and disappeared through another doorway.

Maeryn waited patiently, trying to think of what she would say. The minutes passed slowly and she found herself thinking of the two men who had accompanied her on this trip. They were good people; they were all good people. Always willing to work hard without complaining, even when their efforts seemed futile.

They nodded back at her and she realized that she had been staring. “What’s taking so long,” she wondered aloud as she turned her eyes to the symbols on the wall.

“Come with me.”

The voice startled Maeryn. The man didn’t seem to notice and simply turned to walk back through the door behind him. Again, Maeryn followed until they arrived at another cavern, this one larger than the first. Tree roots lined one side of the space, indicating that they were either near the surface, or the trees were very large. A small stream flowed through the center of the room only to disappear into a hole in the wall to Maeryn’s right. Their escort pointed to the other side of the room where there were small, square boulders arranged in a circle.

“He will be with you shortly.”

Maeryn raised her eyebrows and looked at her companions. They only shrugged their shoulders.

By the time their new guest joined them, Maeryn was ready to fall asleep. The sound of trickling water and the cool damp air were relaxing.

“Maeryn,” came a soft voice from across the room.

Maeryn stood as the young man walked over. He was of medium height with straight black hair. He had a soft quality about him that, when coupled with his impeccable manner of dress, indicated that he was very conscious of his looks. He wasn’t quite what she expected, young enough to be her son. When he was close enough, he extended a hand.

“Maeryn, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“And your name?” Maeryn replied.

The man shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you understand the need for secrecy.” It was a statement that sounded like a question. “I understand that Thaddius will not be joining us?”

“Yes. The provisions at the outpost were spoiled. He and many others are dead because of it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the man replied honestly. “So are you all that remains?” he asked, gesturing to the others.

“No,” Maeryn corrected. “There are still one hundred and fifty waiting at the outpost.”

“Congratulations on your success. We were doubtful that any would survive.”

“I would hardly call it a success. We started as five hundred.”

“Yes, that is horrible. I’m afraid that was Thaddius’ responsibility,” he replied, starting to sound defensive.

Maeryn was angered. “And what is your responsibility?” she asked. “You orchestrated this.”

“Oh my…no! According to Thaddius, this was your idea. And I had nothing to do with it.”

“Who are you?” Maeryn asked. “Aren’t you the Resistance leader?”

The man chuckled. “I am flattered that you would think so, but no. I am, however, able to speak on his behalf.”

Maeryn paused for a moment, realizing that this man was here to support her and not the other way around. She was pleased that Thaddius had cast her in such a good light. It was her idea after all, but all the details were handled by Thaddius.

“Here is what I need. I have one hundred and fifty freed slaves hiding out on the island of Tur’cen. Their supplies will not allow them to last the winter. Therefore, whatever arrangements were made for transport must happen immediately.”

The man raised his eyebrows. “That is not possible. The slave boats will not be traveling again until the spring time. Without this disguise, we are unprepared to grant your request.”

“What are we supposed to do? Winter is coming and we will starve on that island. We need to be evacuated immediately.”

“I understand, but the arrangement was…”

“I don’t care,” Maeryn interrupted. “For someone who is working for a cause, you’re not trying hard enough. I am offering you hundreds of new supporters and my own services as well. And for such generosity, I expect to be accommodated.”

The man was speechless.

“If you cannot provide a larger vessel, then I demand that you provide food and clothing so that we may survive the winter.”

The man took a deep breath and replied after a long moment of silence. “Let me see what arrangements I can make.”

Maeryn nodded, her heart now beating fiercely in her chest.

“For now,” he continued, “come with me and we will get you settled. Are you hungry?”

“We are famished. But we don’t have much time, we must get back.”

“Of course. But I must send word to our leader for authorization of your requests. Until we hear back, you are our guests.” The man turned and beckoned for them to follow.

Maeryn turned around and smiled at her companions who had tears of joy in their eyes.

After a hearty stew, the guests were shown to their quarters. Maeryn was given her own room and was grateful for the accommodations. She didn’t bring any belongings and so didn’t need any time to settle in. Instead, she asked if there was anywhere to bathe.

“That is one of the best things about this place,” replied the man. “Come with me.”

They walked along more torch-lit passageways, descending even farther into the earth. Faintly, the sound of water came to Maeryn’s ears.

“These passageways extend to various parts of the city. This one leads to the ocean.” Just as he finished his explanation, the walls widened to reveal an underground spring which formed a small lake. “There on the far side, you can see daylight.”

Maeryn looked and could see a small crack of daylight shining through the wall of the cavern on the other side of the lake.

“The spring runs to the ocean through that passage,” he said, pointing to where Maeryn was looking.

It was a beautiful sight to behold and the thought of a bath warmed Maeryn’s weary heart.

“I will have fresh clothing put in your room. There are plenty of secluded areas for your privacy. Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,” Maeryn replied.

“Of course,” the man responded with a smile.

“How long will it take to get authorization?”

“You must know that your request may not be granted, but you should receive a response in just a few days.”

“Oh, so he’s close?”

“Who says it’s a he? And no…not necessarily. There are many means of quickly sending messages.”

Maeryn nodded. “Just let me know as soon as possible.”

The man only smiled and retreated, leaving Maeryn alone in the cavern.

Maeryn’s time at the Resistance headquarters moved quickly, filled with warm meals and regular baths. It was strange though, not seeing the daylight since she arrived. And though her time was enjoyable, she grew uncomfortable when she thought of Aelia and the others back on the island. She hoped they were doing well and couldn’t wait to return.

Just as promised, the dark-haired man came to her quarters after two and a half days. Maeryn’s traveling companions were with him.

“I have a message for you.”

“And?” Maeryn asked, with anticipation.

“Your request has been granted.”

Maeryn couldn’t help herself. She hugged the man and then apologized, as he tried not to show his blushing face.

“I also have this,” he said, handing her a small rolled piece of paper.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It is a message from our leader. You are very fortunate.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, proceeding to read the message containing only two lines of text.

glad to hear that you are safe

look forward to seeing you in the spring

“It is unusual for him to send personal messages.”

“So it is a he,” she replied with a smile.

He ignored the joke. “Have you heard directly from him before?”

Maeryn smiled. “Yes, he sent me a letter many years ago. It took me a moment to realize who it was from.”

“Well you are fortunate indeed. The leader doesn’t have any contact with those who are not officially part of the Resistance.”

“How does one ‘officially’ become part of the Resistance?” she asked.

“I will let him tell you, since it seems that he wants to meet you next spring. Oh yes, your request has been exceeded.”

“What do you mean?” Maeryn asked.

“I have been given instructions to assign you one of my men as well as a larger vessel. It won’t transport your refugees, but it will be large enough to carry supplies back to the island. I will need the rest of the afternoon to get your shipping papers prepared and to make other arrangements. But you must defer to my man’s authority, especially when in public. It is important that you appear in your proper womanly role so as not to raise any suspicions. He will take the three of you to the shipyards tomorrow and you will set sail for Tur’cen.”

Maeryn couldn’t believe her ears and she couldn’t keep the tears from her eyes. “Thank you,” she said simply.

* * * *

The morning after the battle’s end, Kael was up and out of his bed, after being treated for a broken nose and ribs, as well as a deep wound on his right thigh. He didn’t remember much of the previous night, only that he somehow made it back to Leoran. What was clear in his mind, perfectly clear, was his encounter with Narian. He replayed the events over and over in his head. And as he did so, several questions came to mind.

Is Narian leading this invasion? Did he escape from the monastery too? Should I feel guilty? No! I will not feel guilty about killing him! He chose his actions and happened to come across my path. If it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else.

Actually…it probably wouldn’t have been anyone else. With his upbringing and the training he received at the monastery, Kael had always excelled in combat. In fact, he had never met a worthy opponent since his escape. That is, until Narian.

I almost didn’t make it out of that one alive!

He tried to shrug off his current train of thought. The city of Leoran was beautiful in the morning as Kael strolled along the city walls overlooking the lake. After a few minutes of concentrating on the present and trying to forget about the previous day’s events, Kael became aware of something. As he passed the Leoran citizens, he noticed a hesitation in their demeanor, a mixture of fear and awe. Whispers and hushed voices passed among the people, and when he looked them in the eyes, he received nods of respect. Though not the kind that seems to accompany friendship or trust, but something else. He wondered if it had something to do with not remembering how he got back to the city. It was almost as if he had drunk too much wine the night before and embarrassed himself. Oh well. He made a mental note to ask Dacien about it when he got back.

Kael recovered quickly over the next few weeks. His leg wound closed up and he was eventually able to remove the bandages. The swelling and discoloration on his face subsided and the ability to breathe through his nose returned. But the pain in his ribs lingered. Just when he started to forget about his limitations, a jolt of pain would return as he performed some minor activity that would otherwise not have been a problem.

But more important than his physical injuries, Kael felt a wound in his soul. Seeing Narian brought back memories of his past, memories that he’d been trying to forget for a long time. These memories would steal hours of his day before he realized it. Dacien must have thought his friend had gone crazy.

In fact, Kael hadn’t shared more than three conversations with him since the battle with the Syvaku. The first conversation was strange, as Dacien relayed the events that Kael had forgotten. Since that time, the two had begun to grow apart, and Kael wasn’t sure why. He only knew that he felt uncomfortable around Dacien, like a disapproving parent. Though Dacien never said anything to that effect, Kael felt it nonetheless.

One day, just before the first winter storm, Kael found himself at the city square after one of his many walks to clear his mind, which was increasingly difficult to clear. The market was busy with the normal activity, but Kael’s attention was drawn to the unusual sight of a slave trader with his products on display. As Kael neared, he caught a few of the words being shouted to potential customers. Apparently this enterprising man had found a way to profit from the misery of others by rounding up all the homeless slaves of Bastul after the Syvak raid. With the death of their masters, there was no one to contest this man, who simply took them by force. No doubt he had a few thugs nearby for his own safety, but far enough away to stay out of sight so as not to present a negative image that might affect his sales. Too late. I can see your evil from right where I stand.

Scanning the faces of the slaves, Kael felt disgusted. For too long, the Empire used slave labor as a way of building and sustaining its gluttonous appetite. The labor of many supported the lifestyle of a few.

All of a sudden, Kael froze. There before him was a man his own age. His dark skin was marred with scars from a long time past. His face was distorted to the point of being grotesque. As Kael looked around, it was clear that the Leoran citizens were also uncomfortable at the sight. Kael looked back to the man’s tall and muscular frame and knew in an instant who it was that stood before him.

Stepping forward into the space between the crowd and the slaves, Kael stopped in front of Ajani.

“There he is,” yelled the trader. “A man who knows a good deal when he sees one. You won’t find a more reasonable price.”

The crowd began to back away from Kael as the trader approached.

“I’ll take this one,” Kael announced.

“Of course, a fine specimen. Hard on the eyes, but strong as an ox,” the man nearly shouted, trying to stir the crowd into a buying frenzy.

Kael turned to face the man and stared deep into his eyes.

The trader shifted uneasily and shot glances around to the stunned crowd that had grown eerily quiet.

“On second thought,” Kael responded. “I’ll take them all.”

The man looked stunned, then quickly replied. “…such generosity. I can see that you are a man of great importance…”

Kael interrupted. “You are correct, Sir!” Now it was Kael who was shouting. “And I believe that you have misinterpreted my meaning. I will take all of these men and women. And my payment will be the sparing of your life!”

“But…” the man stammered.

“Leave this city quickly or I will have to reconsider the terms of our arrangement!”

Instantly, Kael was aware of three men hanging back in the crowd to his left and another behind the slaves to his right.

Kael leaned in close to the man, whose face was red with anger. “Call off your men or they will die in front of you today.”

The trader’s eyes shifted toward the crowd and then back to Kael.

The hesitation in the man’s body language was telling, as Kael shot out a hand and gripped the man by the throat. The citizens scattered, revealing the trader’s hired thugs standing in the open. They began to approach cautiously until the sound of marching footsteps filled the courtyard.

“What is the problem here?” called a voice from the Leoran soldiers, who were now fanning out to contain the skirmish. “Caleb, sir, these men have a right to be here.”

“Of course they do, and we’ve just made an arrangement. He has agreed to give me all of these slaves and I have agreed not to kill him and his men.”

There was no reply from the Leoran guard. Kael slowly released his grip and the man gasped for air. Seconds of tense silence passed and finally, the trader backed away with Kael’s piercing stare boring into his skin. Eventually, the man and his hired muscle left the courtyard and headed for the southeastern city gate.

Kael asked the guards to unchain the slaves. And as the shackles fell off of Ajani, Kael stepped forward and embraced his childhood friend, who seemed confused and unsure of how to react.

That evening, a knock brought Kael to the entrance of his quarters. He opened the door to find Dacien with an agitated look on his face.

“Come in; we need to talk,” Kael said.

“You’re damn right we do!”

In all the time he’d known Dacien, which admittedly wasn’t very long, Kael had never known him to swear or lose his temper. Even during times of extreme pressure, which constituted the majority of their friendship, Dacien was calm and even tempered.

Kael poured two glasses of wine and gave one to Dacien. Both men drained their cups quickly, after sitting down to make themselves comfortable.

“First you attack a man in the city square, then you steal his property. And now…”

“Now wait a minute,” Kael interrupted. “If I’d attacked the man, he wouldn’t still be alive. And those people you refer to as his property weren’t rightfully his to begin with.”

Dacien continued with a quieter tone of voice. “And now I understand that your slaves are presently at the baths, being attended to as if they were Orud royalty…and feasts prepared for them from the winter food stores built up by the citizens of this city.”

“I will repay the cost, whatever it is.”

“I don’t care about the cost, Caleb; this city is indebted to you. What I care about is that a man whom I call a friend is losing control of himself.”

Kael was immediately struck by the awkward sound of his fake name. He was holding back a part of himself and his secrets were interfering with his friendship. “He was my childhood friend…my first friend. What was I supposed to do?”

“What are you talking about?”

Kael couldn’t find the strength to answer. How could he explain the happiness of his childhood, contrasted with the sadness of his time at the monastery, all pivoting upon a single moment of desperation to defend his friend against the beatings of an evil man? How could he explain without having to explain his entire past? He wished it could all just go away.

“Caleb. You’re not making any sense these days, ever since the battle. You’re angry and it’s eating you up inside. Whatever the problem is, learn how to deal with it and stay out of trouble. I grow weary of making excuses for you.” Dacien rose to his feet and stormed out of the room with a slamming door to emphasize his exit.

Chapter 12

Maeryn stood at the prow of the ship and pulled her thick cloak tight against her chin. The driving wind was bringing a large storm cloud from the east that tried to block the rising sun. It was ominous and should have worried her, but the return trip was almost concluded and they would soon arrive at the island. She hoped that her friends had fared well in her absence and was excited to be bringing food and winter supplies.

Gradually, the rocky coast on their port side passed into their wake and Tur’cen came into view. Maeryn was surprised at the amount of elation she felt. But she quickly realized that, though she was cared for while in the Empire’s capital city, she dearly missed her daughter and had come to think of the slaves as her family.

Former slaves, she corrected herself.

Swinging around to the southern tip of the island, the man who had taken the role of her husband piloted the ship into a partially hidden cove. With the island now blocking the wind, all became silent. Maeryn scanned the shoreline for signs of movement, but no one could be seen. It seemed an eternity before the boat slid to a stop in the soft shore.

Without waiting for help, Maeryn jumped down to land with a splash into water reaching to her knees. The three men aboard, quickly attended to the sails and dropped anchor. Maeryn waded to the dry sand and walked inland, glancing around.

Maybe they’re hiding. But after several minutes, she started to feel a sickness in her stomach. She wouldn’t even dare to think or utter the fear in her heart, instead pushing her emotions aside. Her two traveling companions and mock husband now joined her on the beach.

“So where is everyone?” he called, his arms wide.

“Mother!” came a yell from the trees.

Maeryn spun around to see Aelia running out from the protection of the forest. Her swift feet left gentle impressions in the sand as she ran for her mother. Maeryn threw off her cloak and met Aelia, the two embracing with tears in their eyes.

“Are you alright?” she said, pulling back from her daughter and taking the girl’s face in her hands.

“I’m fine, Mother; I missed you.”

“And the others…are they well?”

“Everyone is fine!”

Maeryn pulled her close again, holding tight.

“Mother!” exclaimed Aelia, pulling away embarrassed as she noticed the handsome stranger only a few paces away.

“Oh,” Maeryn mumbled as she noticed the source of her daughter’s concern. “Don’t worry about him; he’s here to help us.” She knew that Aelia wasn’t concerned about a stranger in their midst, but she wasn’t ready to acknowledge her daughter’s budding interest in men. She knew it would come eventually, but she wasn’t about to encourage it.

Slowly, other familiar faces began to materialize on the beach. And it wasn’t long before they all had the boat unloaded, the supplies moved to the camp and the ship stowed out of sight. The hours passed quickly as Maeryn settled back into island life. Everyone was eager to hear of her trip, and it was all she could do to put them off until the evening meal, when she could recount her story for all to hear.

Later that evening, after assessing the food storage, it was decided that they could easily spare enough food for a celebration feast. Maeryn thought it completely appropriate, given the trials they had endured. Immediately, word spread through the camp and was met with smiles and tears of joy. Fires were built and the smell of food enveloped the camp. Roast lamb, fish, and all manner of fruits were prepared so that all could eat their fill. And as the activity of dinner slowed all of the island residents gathered around their respective fires and stared at Maeryn, anxious to hear her story. Maeryn wiped the tears from her eyes and stood before her friends.

She recounted their entire journey, from the time they left the island. And even though she couldn’t adequately express it as she wanted, it didn’t seem to matter. Her friends listened with rapt attention to every word. They shared in her struggles and envisioned themselves at her side as she traveled to secure their freedom. And though it should have occurred earlier, Maeryn didn’t fully realize the weight of her responsibility until halfway through her tale. It dawned on her suddenly and she had to concentrate to keep from trailing off and ruining the moment. She knew, even as she continued, that she would have to ponder that thought at a later time and give it her full attention. But this moment wasn’t that time. So she moved on to the climax of her story.

“…and that’s when he told me that we would be given a larger ship to carry all the supplies we would need for winter. And in the springtime, he would send a ship large enough to carry us all to Orud.”

Cheering went up from the crowd at the mention of their rescue. Maeryn waited until their applause died down.

“He will send a slave ship and we will travel in broad daylight under that disguise. Once we reach Orud, he will stage a pretend market where powerful men of the Resistance will purchase you and take you away to your respective posts throughout the Empire. Now I know that this sounds suspicious, but it’s actually quite brilliant. There will be no cause for any citizens to suspect what is happening, because it is a common occurrence. The difference is that you will not be owned by anyone, but will be spreading throughout the Empire to help free your own people from bondage. The Resistance has made great progress recently, but they can use all the help they can get.”

Slowly, the looks of concern changed into smiles as they considered the plan. After a few minutes, nods of approval could be seen all around.

“Now, let us all get some rest and we can talk more in the morning.”

As the crowd began to disperse, several came to Maeryn and offered their thanks. The women embraced her, while the men simply put a hand on her shoulder. Maeryn felt awkward, knowing that it wasn’t her provision that would save these people. That honor would go to the leader of the Resistance. Still, she felt blessed that what she did have to offer was put to good use for their cause.

* * * *

The thick, humid air made breathing difficult. Coupled with the constant buzzing of insects, it made Saba feel as though everything around him was alive. Indeed, the rich and moisture laden earth beneath his feet seemed capable of growing anything. He was stripped to the waist and following a dark-skinned man through a dense jungle of vines and broad-leafed trees. After nearly three days of walking on a more or less flat grade, they began to descend steeply into a valley. The trees seemed to close in on him and the light grew dimmer as the sun was choked from view. They moved quickly despite the lack of a defined walking path. The man ahead of him was weaving and darting through the foliage, relying upon memory to guide him. And from the increasing noise in the air, Saba suspected that the man’s memory was good.

Steadily, the faint sound of water grew to a deafening roar. And just when it seemed as though the sound couldn’t get louder, the trees opened to show a magnificent view. They were standing on a precipice with a narrow gap separating the cliff on which they stood from a wall of vegetation only thirty feet away. Craning his neck, Saba estimated that the opposite cliff face reached a hundred feet above them. The most amazing sight, however, was the frothing white water cutting through the vegetation to plummet hundreds of feet below them.

Saba’s guide moved along the cliff to the right, not showing any hint of the amazement that Saba felt. It was to be expected, he thought, considering that these sights would be commonplace to the man. Saba followed and after several minutes they came upon a strange sight—a thick rope, tied to the branch of a tree, extending across the gap between the cliffs to disappear into the middle of the waterfall. Though it was woven from vines, it was thick and appeared sturdy. The guide stopped and looked to Saba with a questioning expression.

Saba held out his hands indicating that he didn’t understand.

The man responded by shaking the rope and pointing to the waterfall across the chasm.

“Behind the water is what you seek,” said the man in his native tongue, a hint of anger in his voice.

“I don’t understand. Can you show me?”

“NO! I am not permitted to walk the holy ground. ‘Only holy man’ say the elders.”

Saba looked back to the waterfall and the realization of what he was about to do began to set in. The sacred burial ground for the holy men of this tribe was located in a cave behind the waterfall. He would have to use the rope to swing across the chasm and through the water to get to it. It was all starting to feel familiar.

“How do I get back?” he asked.

The man pondered the question for several seconds before answering. “Keep rope. I will pull you up.”

The man’s answer lacked confidence, which caused Saba’s stomach to sink. But something compelled him to walk forward nonetheless. He grabbed the rope, untied it from the tree branch and stepped to the edge of the cliff. He knew that if he hesitated, it would only give him the chance to consider how dangerous this was. So he didn’t hesitate. Instead, he grasped the rope firmly with both hands, took a deep breath, and launched himself away from the cliff.

Saba’s heart immediately leaped into his throat as he caught a glimpse of the bottom of the chasm. Before he had time to ponder the pain of falling from this height, his breath was stolen by the sudden temperature change and immense downward force exerted on his body upon entering the water. The shock was short-lived as he passed through the falls. Instinctively, he loosened his grip on the rope and began to drop, longer than expected. When he hit the hard ground on the other side, the impact knocked the wind from his lungs. He stumbled, off balance, and fell to the ground, losing his grip on the rope. In a moment of panic at the thought of being trapped, he lunged for the rope as the downward force of the water whipped it across the dirt floor toward the waterfall. Just before the edge of the cliff, Saba’s finger made contact with the rope and he quickly grabbed it with full force. Momentarily relieved, Saba rolled over onto his back and struggled to regain his breath.

It took several minutes, but finally he rose to his feet and stared at the rushing water, keenly aware that he had almost just lost his way out. And yet, something inside him drove out the fear. He knew that he was walking down the path of his hidden memories, and that gave him confidence. Despite his desperate circumstances, there was no place he would rather be.

The deafening water at the mouth of the cave gave a shimmering glow to the surroundings, providing much more light than he would have expected. But as the cave narrowed toward the back, into the mountain, the glittering light was quickly lost. The natives had long ago dealt with this problem by keeping a torch and flint along the wall to the right. After fumbling with the crude instruments for a moment, Saba had a light source that chased away the darkness. Without hesitating, he began to follow the path and his eyes slowly adjusted to the orange glow of the torch. The cave continued to narrow until he found himself on his hands and knees, struggling to squeeze between the rocks and dust. Then, the passage suddenly widened into another cave and Saba could hear its size before he could see it. The sound of his feet on the uneven path was lost to the nothingness of this new space, no longer echoing as it did a few minutes before.

Holding up the torch, Saba let the light stretch across the cavern and was surprised by what he saw—numerous stone sarcophagi covering the floor, arranged in perfect rows. The natives, by what Saba could observe of their culture, didn’t appear to be adept at working with stone. However, the piles of stones around him, some carved with intricate designs, argued with his original observation. Walking along the mounds, from row to row, Saba felt drawn by something, although he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. It should have been unsettling, walking amongst the remains of the dead, but it was anything but unsettling. There was an overwhelming sense of peace that allowed him to search the entire length of the cavern without once feeling nervous.

Suddenly, Saba stopped. There, in front of him at the back of the cavern was a mound of a different sort. It was small, only a few feet square. He bent down to touch the stones, prepared to search through them, but stopped. What if this is the resting place of a child, or the ashes of a holy man that didn’t require a full size coffin? Somehow he knew this wasn’t the case. And so he proceeded to remove one stone at a time until a weathered wooden box was uncovered. He slowly raised the lid and lifted the torch over the top. Inside, bathed in the flickering glow of the fire above his head, Saba could see an object wrapped in an oiled cloth. Carefully, he lowered the torch and propped it against the sarcophagus behind him. Then, using both hands, he gingerly lifted the cylindrical pouch out of the pile of stones and rested it in his lap. His heart began to beat rapidly, for what reason he didn’t know, just that he felt on the verge of discovery.

With a deep breath, he untied the leather thong that bound the pouch and began to peel away the layers of oiled cloth and lay them in a pile on the dirt floor. There were many and it soon became apparent that this object was a prized possession worth protecting. Finally, the last layer came off and Saba held a scroll in his hands. It was plain, without decorations. It was much older than any of the scrolls he found in the libraries of Orud. It was ancient. He inspected it as well as he could in the faint light, holding it close to his eyes. Then he slowly and carefully began to unroll it…

A sudden jolt of fear surged through his body. There, in his shaking hands, was a symbol that caused him to lose his breath. The same symbol, in fact, that was carved into the shaft of an arrow given to him by the Governor of Bastul so many years ago.

He couldn’t understand his own emotions at this moment. He should have felt relief, even excitement at the prospect of discovering a clue to the mystery that had eluded him for so long. But instead, he felt a growing sense of dread. Cautiously, he unrolled the scroll and found the first passage of text. The written language was like nothing he had seen before, and for a few minutes he stared at the graceful strokes, carefully scribed on the crude parchment. And then, the ink strokes on the page began to communicate, and Saba began to read and understand.

THE WORDS OF SARIEL, ENTRUSTED TO HIS FAITHFUL SERVANT EBNISHA

At once the tears began to flow from his eyes as Saba read his true name. He understood immediately what he was holding in his hands and why he had reason to fear. He continued reading and with the discovery of each passage, he wept harder as memories came back to him. Faces, cities, experiences that warmed his heart alongside enemies, sufferings and trials that angered him and left him with a profound sense of loss. He kept reading until his eyes began to blur and the words ran together, all the while, he cried for the memories that he now regretted.

His body shook, waking him. Complete darkness surrounded him.

How long have I been here?

It may have been hours, or even days. Searching around the dirt, his hand closed upon the torch. It was cold, giving no indication of the length of time that had passed. Grasped tightly in the other hand and feeling as though it weighed the equivalent of the sarcophagus against which he leaned, was the scroll that had drawn him to this place. With a great deal of effort, Saba—or Sariel—rose to his feet and began to feel his way through the dark, toward the sound of rushing water. With the return of his memory came an impending sense of doom that quickened his steps and gave him a sense of urgency. Time is running out for everyone! I have to hurry; I have to get back to Orud!

* * * *

Kael strode across the courtyard, his footsteps echoing off the surrounding stone buildings. His thick winter cloak was clasped at his neck by a golden torc, a symbol of high ranking in the Orud military. Although he wasn’t technically an Orud soldier, he had earned his place among them and their respect. Dacien had sent for Kael, though he didn’t say why. But the situation felt quite serious.

Following a wide street north from the courtyard, Kael traced his way to the General’s quarters, a magnificent columned structure that Dacien was uncomfortable with. He wasn’t used to such extravagance and was having a difficult time adjusting to this part of his responsibilities. Kael smiled to himself as he climbed the steps leading to the front entrance. There a pair of guards pulled their spears away from the door and allowed him to pass. The interior was decorated with sculptures and plants growing from large pots around the room. Kael moved quickly through the foyer and into the center of the house where Dacien waited with several of his other officers.

“You called?”

Dacien nodded. “Please sit.”

Kael moved to where Dacien indicated and sat at a large circular marble table.

“I’ve asked all of you to join me because I’ve received word back from Orud.”

Kael looked around the room and saw eager expressions among the eight other men.

“The Emperor has heard our request for aid and is gravely concerned about the state of the Empire. It seems that the Korgs have broken through the northern border and have taken the city of Orlek. The struggles in the north aren’t nearly as widespread as the Syvaku attacks, but the timing of the two is suspicious.”

“What will the Emperor do?” asked one of the men.

“Well, he hasn’t promised to give aid. In fact, there was no direct answer to our request. Instead, he is calling for all his Generals to assemble in Orud next spring.”

“That’s not a good idea,” voiced Kael.

“I know,” replied Dacien. “To have all the Generals in the same place at the same time—especially while the Empire is under attack from numerous enemies—is concerning, indeed. Nevertheless, we have been ordered to the capital.”

The other men shook their heads, but didn’t look surprised, as if this type of ridiculous mandate was common.

“One other thing…I’ve also been ordered to bring the one responsible for the death of the Syvak warlord.”

Kael’s eyebrows rose.

“The Emperor feels that you would be an inspiration at a time such as this,” he said to Kael. “So, my friend, it seems that we will journey together once again.”

Kael nodded, a little surprised that Dacien had used the word friend. They still weren’t on good terms as far as Kael knew. And in Dacien’s defense, Kael hadn’t put much effort into patching things up between them. He still had a great deal of affection for Dacien, and had come to miss the time they used to spend together. But he just wasn’t prepared to discuss the details of his past and he knew that conversation—which was sure to occur eventually—was necessary to making things right.

Instead, he had been spending his days with Ajani, trying unsuccessfully to reacquaint himself with his old companion. Sadly, it seemed that even that friendship would never be the same. Sometimes, there’s just no going back.

The weeks passed, turning into months that were long and dreary. Kael, fully healed from his injuries, began to train again. Rising early every morning, he rode out of the city to the surrounding forest and found a place of solitude where he could stretch and strengthen his muscles. The motions of his exercise came back quickly, along with the familiar, but unexplainable sensation that had become second nature to him. As he moved his body through his exercises, his awareness broadened to encompass the surrounding leafless trees, and the long blades of golden grasses swaying in the breeze.

And then, out of curiosity, he tried something new. He pushed on the limit of his awareness, trying to force it outward. Just as one might scan the edges of a crowd in search of someone, ignoring those people that were in the immediate vicinity. Kael pushed his awareness outward and was surprised by its obedience. Suddenly, he became aware of more, in a wider area surrounding himself, though the clarity lessened.

Just like sight. The details are more difficult with greater distance.

I wonder…

Allowing the feeling to fade, he focused only in one direction, and felt a path extending away from himself to a range of nearly thirty feet. Grass, earth, trees, even wind currents—everything between himself and the extent of his awareness could be felt as though he was connected to it.

Interesting!

And then, he relaxed his body and pushed his awareness farther away, hoping to find the limit of his ability. Sixty, seventy, eighty feet away, he pushed until the clarity began to decline. And when it did, he narrowed his area of concentration and pushed more. His knees began to wobble and he knew that the strain was taking a toll on his body. But now he was determined to know what he was capable of.

Forcing it to go farther, narrowing his focus, his right hand began to tremor. His head began to ache and a trickle of blood ran down his lip. And just before he lost consciousness, he could feel at the other side of the clearing, a tiny beetle clinging to the bark of a tree. It began to scurry away, emitting a sense of panic as it crawled upward. And then darkness rushed in like a flood…

Staring up at the sky, Kael quickly realized what had happened. He sat up and glanced around, confirming that he had passed out where he stood. He tried climbing to his feet, and could feel the shakiness of his limbs, the same feeling that he experienced after intense labor.

He looked across to the edge of the forest at the other end of the meadow, to where he felt the beetle. It was nearly two hundred yards away. A smile crossed his face as he considered the implications of what he had just learned. In the past, he hadn’t been able to control his awareness to this extent. But when it came upon him, he was able to guide weapons to their mark with deadly accuracy. It seemed to act as a muscle that tired quickly unless trained regularly. But somehow, in the months that he had neglected its training, this muscle, this ability, had become far stronger.

Two hundred yards…this is going to be quite useful!

Chapter 13

The morning sunlight shone bright through the surrounding foliage which held the vibrant colors of spring. The soft, but steady sound of the water lapping at the shore reminded Maeryn of Bastul. She used to stand at the railing of her balcony and watch the sun rise over the eastern horizon to reflect brilliantly off the numerous buildings and ships near the bay. She felt a deep sadness at the loss of her beloved city, but those feelings were confounded by her other memories of that time, unpleasant things that she wished to forget. It all seemed so far away, and with any luck, it would stay that way.

She stood now at the sandy shore of a secluded bay and watched as the procession of former slaves made its way down to the slave ship anchored just a few yards from the dry ground. The morning had been filled with tears, both of happiness at the realization of their freedom and sadness at their parting with each other. Unfortunately, Maeryn and Aelia would not be accompanying their friends to Orud. There would be no valid excuse for them to be aboard a slave ship. Instead, the others would make the journey days ahead, while mother and daughter would wait and allow distance and time to separate them from the slaves they had helped to escape.

The fewer suspicions, the better.

It took hours to load everyone aboard the ship. It was awkward seeing so many bodies in so little space, but appearances were important at this stage of their plan. The man that brought Maeryn back from Bastul was apparently in a position of authority as he commanded the crew of the slave ship. Though he wouldn’t be traveling with his men, he instructed them nevertheless. And, after instructions to the crew, he turned to address his pretend captives.

“All of you must listen carefully.” Immediately, the joyous expressions inspired by the first taste of freedom fled from all the faces. “When we arrive in Orud, it is critical to our success that you appear as anyone would expect. For some of you younger ones, you didn’t directly experience the horrors of capture and transport to this Empire. Therefore, you must learn from your elders. I know that living on the run from Bastul hasn’t been easy, but it is much different than the experience of a new slave. For the older ones among us, this is the only time when I will recommend that you remember your experiences. Relive them and let your grief show. Use this time before we reach Orud to get back into those feelings. We must put on a show and appear no different than any other slave ship. I don’t want to see any smiling or hear any laughing. If you are tempted to feel anything other than downtrodden, think of this. Our mission is not complete. If we are caught, we will all be executed. More importantly, our cause may be compromised. From the time you set sail, until the time you reach your assigned post, there will be no more friendly interactions. You will be treated as slaves and will address the crew as masters. We cannot afford to waste the years of effort and progress that have brought us to this point. The next weeks will be difficult, but you have all endured worse in the past, and I beg you to hold fast to what you know, that your freedom is within your grasp.”

When he finished speaking, the crowd was silent. There were no more words to speak as all were deep in thought. Maeryn watched Aelia wipe the tears from her eyes. Maeryn’s own eyes were surely red, but without tears. The time for mourning was over, and they needed to look ahead to the task that lay before them.

After much waving and shouted farewells, the anchor was raised and the slave ship was rowed out of the bay. When it reached the open sea, the sails were raised and the wind took hold. From the narrow view of their hideout, Maeryn, Aelia, and the Resistance Captain watched the slave ship disappear from view. Though she had been preparing for this moment for such a long time, Maeryn still felt unprepared for the gravity of the situation. This was a turning point in her life and she would never again be the same. As Aelia held tight to her side, sobbing, Maeryn was keenly aware that something momentous had just occurred and she was now on the other side of it.

* * * *

Kael cinched down the strap holding his knapsack to the saddle. All of his belongings were now secure and attached to his horse. Stepping back, he surveyed the rest of the General’s brigade that would accompany him and Dacien to the capital city of the Empire. Ajani, who was always close-by these days, waited by his own horse as Kael walked down the length of the small column. The spring sunshine warmed his skin and seemed to intensify the smells of the city. Horses stamped, their tails whipping back and forth. Men yelled instructions to each other along with the occasional crude joke. In all, only twenty-two soldiers and eight slaves would be making this journey, including Kael, Dacien and Ajani. However, Kael refused to refer to his dark-skinned friends as slaves.

Whatever questions there were about the purpose of this trip, Dacien knew that the southern region couldn’t spare many soldiers, let alone its newly appointed General. He chose only the minimum traveling guard to accompany him as the surrounding cities would need all the hands that could be spared to help rebuild.

After a quick status check, all men signaled a state of readiness. The column moved slowly through the city to the northern gate, the horse’s hooves ringing loudly on the stone streets. The citizens of Leoran lined the streets and waved goodbye to the soldiers. After exiting the northern gate, the men rode along the bridge connecting the city to the surrounding shore. It was a beautiful sight to behold as sunlight reflected on the glittering lake surface, throwing tiny flashes of light across spear tips and helmets. For all the times that Kael felt at peace with being alone, this was one of the moments when it was amazing to feel part of something important. There was a sense of power and majesty riding with the General of the Southern Region of Orud. Before they reached the mainland, the quaking leaves of the nearby forest could be heard. The majestic sound combined with the gleaming color of new growth, made for an awe-inspiring moment.

The first day of travel brought them to the eastern edge of the forest where they stopped earlier than normal. It would take more than a day to cross the plains that awaited them and Dacien didn’t feel hurried. The evening passed slowly as all the men adjusted to a night outdoors, which hadn’t occurred for most of them since the previous autumn.

Kael woke early and helped break camp, while others prepared a quick breakfast, after which they continued on with their easterly trek. Kael had spent the first day at the back of the column with the slaves, but decided now to ride up front with Dacien. He invited Ajani who declined for fear that it wasn’t appropriate for a slave to ride in front of soldiers. Kael tried to change his mind, but to no avail. After several minutes of discussion, Kael conceded. In the end, Kael realized that it was for the better, as he had some issues to work out with Dacien.

“How long will it take to reach Orud,” he called to Dacien as soon as he was within earshot.

Dacien looked back to acknowledge, but waited until Kael was closer to respond.

“It would only take a few weeks if not for the mountains that we will have to cross. The second half of our trip will be slow.”

After minutes of silence riding in parallel with his friend, Kael spoke. “I uh…” Kael stuttered, trying to think of a way to start the conversation that he knew needed to take place.

“We need to talk,” Dacien replied, sensing the difficulty.

“Yeah,” Kael breathed. “I’ve…never really…told you anything about myself.” The words were forced and Kael knew that it sounded just the same.

Dacien looked over. “I had hoped that you would tell me in time. After all, you know everything about me.”

Kael realized that it was true. He had been a good listener to Dacien, but had never offered anything from his own life. In that moment, he realized how difficult it must be to befriend someone who doesn’t respond.

“I’m sorry; it’s just difficult when…” Kael trailed off.

Dacien waited patiently.

“I guess it’s difficult when you have something to hide,” Kael blurted out. Oh well, you’re committed now aren’t you!

Dacien’s eyebrows raised. “What do you mean?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Kael offered, trying to buy some time to figure out how to tell him.

Dacien let out a laugh that caused some birds to take to flight from a nearby tree. “How about a month?” he asked, spreading his arms out to either side. “Will that be enough time?”

Kael smiled, glad to have the mood lightened. “Alright… Perhaps I should just start at the beginning.”

Dacien nodded.

Kael was tired of keeping his life a secret. Did it really matter what people would think of him? After all, most of his childhood was a series of accidents, things that happened to him. He had no control. What would Dacien do when Kael told him of his involvement with the man who had led the invasion of the Southern Region?

Oh, who cares! Here goes nothing…

“My real name is Kael Lorus, son of Adair Lorus, the Governor of Bastul. My mother’s name was Maeryn.”

Dacien didn’t even blink.

Kael swallowed, then continued. “When I was young, my father disappeared and no one could figure out what happened. My mother feared the worst, but she never really got any answers. So, after weeks of nothing, the council reassigned the governorship to a wicked man named Lemus.”

Dacien smiled, not out of pleasure, but out of understanding.

“Lemus became my father, but I never acknowledged him as such. He was cruel to us and life became very difficult. One day, I heard screaming coming from the garden. I ran toward the sound and found Lemus standing over my friend Ajani.” Kael motioned to the back of the column and Dacien nodded, finally understanding.

“Ajani was covered in blood and Lemus just kept pounding on him. So I grabbed a pitchfork from the shed and attacked him.”

When Kael paused, Dacien jumped in. “He used to have this bad limp that he would never speak of.”

“Yeah…I did that,” Kael replied proudly. “I ran it right into his upper leg. That got his attention on me and saved Ajani’s life, though you can see that his scars exist even to this day. I’m not sure what kind of life he had after that. Anyway, Lemus turned his attention on me and knocked me unconscious. I woke up in the Bastul prison and was held there for days without food or water. I was ten years old. Lemus came by to torment me. I think he was trying to decide what to do with me. I can’t even imagine what my mother must have been going through at the time”

As Kael’s words began to flow, Dacien’s attention peaked. Kael continued his story throughout the day, telling of his time in the northern prison and the first few days at the monastery. When the sun neared the western horizon, the General’s group stopped and pitched their camp in a slight depression in the plains east of Leoran. They set up quickly and lit fires to cook the evening meal. Kael felt a sense of relief in sharing his experience with Dacien, but was now anxious to finish his story. He knew, however, that their trip would last many days, and so he bid Dacien a good evening and went to eat with Ajani and the others.

In the following days, Kael continued to ride with Dacien and tell him of his unusual upbringing and the other boys that were his friends. Kael paced himself and tried to be thorough, while Dacien listened intently, never having heard such a story in all his life. After a week and a half, they began to see the Anod-Kem mountain range on the horizon. It was an ominous sight, in spite of the well-maintained and traveled roads leading through the passes, all the way to the city of Orud. As they reached the foothills, Kael’s story reached the end of his time at the monastery.

“So what happened next?” Dacien asked.

Kael ran toward the edge of the cliff and jumped, arms spread out. For a second he felt weightless, but the moment passed in an instant. Suddenly, he plunged through the fog and felt a heavy sickness in his stomach. The wind raced past his ears, blocking out everything with a roar. Sightless, deaf, and unable to scream from the terror that gripped his heart, Kael knifed through the thick air into nothingness.

He wasn’t prepared for this moment, even though something inside him had told him to jump. But as he had trained himself to do over the years, he closed his eyes and calmed himself. As the wind rushed past, he struggled to block out the images that threatened to control his mind, images of his splattered body strewn across the rocks below.

A warming sensation came over him now as he began to feel the nothingness of his surroundings. Slowly, the nothingness turned into swirling air currents and jagged protrusions of rocks and they moved past him at incredible speeds. Farther down, and approaching quickly, the surface of the water swayed in its endless motion.

His body…the ocean…the two objects moving closer and closer together.

Kael reached out with his sense, stretched it toward the water…and pushed. He pushed with all his might and felt his speed decrease. It was an action of instinct, born out of desperation. He didn’t think he could control himself, he just reacted. He kept pushing until he felt consciousness slipping away from him. And then he hit the water, feet first. It felt thick and solid, like mud, trying to deny his entry. But his speed was too great and he couldn’t be refused. The wind was knocked out of him as the water moved to escape the space he now occupied. Plummeting beneath the surface, he struggled to maintain his grip on his awareness, fearing that he would drown otherwise. And still he descended, almost expecting to reach the bottom. But there was no bottom to be reached. The ocean was an endless mass, able to swallow him, remove him from existence in this world.

And then he was motionless. It was a startling realization, an absence of the horror that had just occurred. Now there was a lack of sensation, no deafening roar…again weightlessness. Seizing the opportunity, Kael kicked his feet to propel himself upward to the surface. One of his legs didn’t work. It hung, useless, from his hip. But it didn’t matter; he was alive. The only thing that mattered now was reaching the surface and breathing air.

He kicked his one good leg and clawed with his hands, moving the water out of the way that separated him from the precious air above. Darkness and silence surrounded him now; only the muted grunts of his own struggles to accompany him. His lungs burned with desire. They began to pump in and out, demanding air, but he wouldn’t open his mouth. To do so would only invite death to win this battle.

Suddenly, he burst through the surface and gasped, as though he were taking his first breath. His lungs thanked him and he breathed deep the fresh, life-giving substance.

As he treaded water, Kael became aware of a dull ache in his left leg. It was too soon to tell where the pain was originating from, but it didn’t matter. He was alive. He was free. The escalating pain would tell him soon enough what had happened. But that didn’t seem important now. It was a wonder that he hadn’t broken all the bones in his body.

He looked upward. The air was clear for almost a hundred yards, but the top of the cliff, much higher, was shrouded in fog. Kael was curious about how far he had fallen, and what he had just endured, but is seemed that his curiosity would just have to wait. For now, he had to concentrate on survival. “Now what do I do?” he asked himself.

“I escaped,” he replied simply.

“Oh,” came Dacien’s mumbled response.

Kael wasn’t quite ready to reveal his abilities just yet, especially when he didn’t even understand them himself. There was just no good way to explain. Better to leave that for another time.

“And…” Dacien prodded. “Actually…never mind” he reconsidered. “We’re stopping soon anyway; we’ll pick this up tomorrow.”

Chapter 14

Maeryn, Aelia, and their escort arrived in Orud three weeks after the slaves had set out from the isle of Tur’cen. The bay was choked with vessels of all shapes and sizes, attending to the various needs of the city. Fishing boats, merchant ships, and slave traders prowled the waters, slowing their entrance to the docks. It was just after noon and the sun was intense overhead, signaling that the coming summer would be warm, indeed.

After unloading their few possessions—for they were supposed to appear to be traveling for leisure—they climbed into a coach and began their ride through the city. Immediately, Maeryn knew that they were not headed for the underground headquarters that she had visited last fall. She must have appeared concerned, because their escort quickly offered an explanation.

“We have a different route and destination this time.”

Maeryn nodded. “I can see that.”

“My lord explicitly instructed that your accommodations be more suited to a woman of your stature.”

“Oh,” Maeryn exclaimed. “I shall have to thank him. That’s very kind!”

Aelia was smiling at these words, as she longed to have a comfortable bed and a good meal.

The city passed by at a comfortable pace and Maeryn contented herself with watching through the window. The city was magnificent. All the streets were paved with stones and lined with lamp posts. Everywhere she looked, flowers were beginning to bloom in their designated areas of each intersecting road. Aelia, tired from the journey, leaned her head against her mother and was asleep within minutes. The slight bouncing of the carriage was rhythmic and Maeryn too, began to feel the pull of sleep. Instead, she let her mind drift, recalling her beautiful garden in Bastul; a gift from Adair.

It was now mid-afternoon and Maeryn was getting hungry.

Aelia had awakened and was stretching her arms. “How much longer?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Only a few minutes,” replied the man sitting across the cabin.

The seats faced each other, which would have made the silence awkward, but Maeryn had grown accustomed to long periods of quiet. They had been traveling northeast along the coast of the bay, rising in elevation. The terrain had become rockier and their surroundings more rural with groves of trees arranged at regular intervals, extending from the road.

The wagon turned south off the pavestones and started down a dirt road toward the sea. After dropping around a low hill, the carriage turned to a stop in front of a large residence. The driver came around and opened the door, extending his hand to Maeryn. She nudged Aelia to go first, and then followed, stepping down to the ground.

The view was breathtaking. The entire eastern bay of Orud lay before them. To their left, a sprawling mansion extended along the rocky cliff to the northeast, and beyond that, a vineyard. It reminded Maeryn of their home in Bastul, only much more elaborate.

“My lord will be joining us tomorrow. For now, follow me and I will help you get settled in.”

“Thank you,” Maeryn replied and followed their escort, turning to give a quick smile to Aelia who was beaming from ear to ear.

Once inside, they were taken up a set of marble stairs to the second floor, then down to the end of the hall. On the right, double doors opened into a spacious guest room with large windows to the south and the east, with views of the bay and vineyard respectively.

“I hope this will do?”

“I’ve been living in the forest on an island,” Maeryn laughed. “I think the accommodations will be just fine, thank you.”

“Would you ladies care for some tea and a light snack? You must be famished.”

“We would, indeed,” Maeryn replied.

The escort backed out of the door with a bow and disappeared down the hall.

Maeryn turned to Aelia. “Well,” she said, arms outstretched.

“Mother, I love it!” she exclaimed. Running to the south windows she stopped to gaze out at the water. “How long do we get to stay here?”

“I’m not sure. At least until tomorrow, but hopefully longer.”

Aelia continued her inspection of the room, stopping by the east windows to stare at the vineyard.

“The plan was to get the slaves to Orud; we didn’t discuss anything after that.”

Aelia didn’t seem to be listening, but Maeryn didn’t mind; she was speaking more to herself than anyone.

After tea and some miniature flaky bread loaves, the two rested until evening. Maeryn fell asleep, and when she awoke, Aelia was gone. Startled, she rose quickly and went searching for her daughter. But, as expected, she found her almost immediately, wandering in the vineyard.

“Aelia,” she called. “Don’t run off like that.”

Aelia waited until her mother was close. “Mother…it’s safe here. And I’m not a child anymore.”

“I know. It’s just that I don’t think we can completely let our guard down…not yet.”

Grabbing her hand, Aelia pulled Maeryn along and the two walked in the cooling air of the afternoon. The setting sun filtered through the leafy vines, covering them in dappled light, and the smell of sweet wet earth surrounded them.

“Mother,” Aelia questioned. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner about father?”

“You mean Lemus?”

“Right,” Aelia replied.

Maeryn knew she would have to have this conversation eventually. Yet there had always been too much to do, too many responsibilities, too many people counting on her. There was never enough time. But now their mission was completed. And here in the vineyard, with the evening breeze, there was finally peace. To her credit, Aelia had been patient. Initially, it was difficult for her to be torn from her life and told that the man she knew as her father was anything but. Eventually, she left the topic alone and contented herself with the tasks at hand. She was an impressive girl, mature for her age. With a deep breath, Maeryn answered.

“I’m sorry if your life hasn’t turned out the way you hoped. It hasn’t exactly gone as I planned, either. Life has been very difficult since Adair disappeared. I only kept it a secret because I feared that Lemus would harm you if he knew you weren’t his child.”

“He wouldn’t have harmed me.”

“Actually,” Maeryn corrected, her heart now pounding. “…he would have. I never told you this, but you had a brother.”

Aelia stopped and turned toward Maeryn with an intense look in her eyes.

“Yes,” Maeryn continued, tears instantly coming to her eyes. “His name was Kael,” she managed to say with a choked voice. “Lemus was beating Ajani one day and Kael tried to defend him. He had Kael executed for it.”

Maeryn was sobbing now, the emotions just as real as the day it happened. Aelia held her mother until the tears subsided.

“I guess I was scared too…for myself. If I was only the mother of Adair’s child, what would he have done to me?”

“It’s alright mother, you didn’t have a choice.”

Maeryn took a deep breath and continued walking. “I do now. We both do. I’m sorry that you’ve had to make sacrifices, but things are going to be different now…you’ll see.”

Aelia smiled. “Tell me about my real father.”

“Ahh,” Maeryn breathed. “…now that’s something I like to talk about.”

* * * *

Kael huddled down in the cargo hold of a merchant ship. The light was dim and after pulling a tarp over himself, he was sure that he had a good hiding place. His leg was throbbing again and he was quite sure that he had broken it in the fall.

After days of swimming to the southeast, he had reached the mainland. There, he slept in a seaside cave and after the first light of day he began to slowly make his way south along the coast. Years of studying maps in the library of the monastery had given him a good sense of landmass proportions and their relation to each other. And after their trip to the temple of the High Priest, Kael had been able to pinpoint the location of the monastery after they returned.

It was with this confidence and knowledge that he had moved south into the small port town of Suppard. After rummaging through garbage for something to eat, Kael searched specifically for a fully loaded merchant vessel, one that appeared to be on its way out of port. And now that he felt well hidden, he allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

“Hey,” called a deep voice, loud inside of the confined space.

Kael’s eyes snapped open, but his body was frozen still. There was no possible way that he could be seen.

“They’re looking for you, you know! Yeah…real mean crowd.”

Kael wondered whether to stand up, but something told him to stay still. Maybe the man was drunk. Surely he couldn’t see.

“Well, normally I’m a nice fellow…normally. But some people are just rude. I don’t much care for rude people. So I’m gonna catch some sleep now. We push out in the mornin’. If you have a home, you should go. Otherwise, anything aboard my ship when we set sail is my property.” The man paused for a moment. “Hello? Sure are quiet aren’t you? Well…good night.”

The voice was followed by stumbling footsteps, retreating up the stairs. The pounding in Kael’s ears slowly decreased, as he wondered how the drunken man knew that he had a passenger. Maybe he was just bluffing. Either way, Kael stayed awake from then until morning.

The ship lurched and rocked as it left the port and headed for the open sea. With each passing minute, Kael felt more and more relieved. Distance was what he needed, distance between him and the monastery. It didn’t matter that he had just spent days swimming and walking on a broken leg, without food and water. It only mattered that he got away, got his freedom. Kael stayed hidden in the cargo area for the rest of the day and the night as well.

“Alright now,” called that same deep voice. “You’ve been down here long enough. Come out where I can see you. I won’t bite.”

Kael lifted off the tarp and struggled to his feet, figuring that it didn’t make sense to keep hiding when the man knew that he was there.

“Come over here son, and let me get a good look at you.”

Kael stepped out from the crate he had been hiding behind. His leg shot with pain, resisting the movement so that Kael stumbled slightly.

“What’s wrong with ya?”

“…leg’s broken,” Kael managed through clenched teeth.

“Well for cryin’ out loud boy, when were you gonna tell someone?”

Kael paused, not sure of how to react to this man, who didn’t seem to pose any immediate threat. “…when I got to safety.”

“Well…you’re here. Come on, let’s take a look at that leg.”

Kael didn’t move. “You’re not going to turn me in?”

The man, who had already turned to go up the stairs, looked back to Kael and smiled. “Son, we all done things we ain’t proud of. That don’t matter to me or the rest of the crew. What matters is what you do from now on. Now follow me so we can get you fixed up. Won’t do me a bit of good with a broken leg.”

Kael began to inch forward, his muscles severely cramped by staying still for so long. It took a second for the man’s words to make sense. “What do you mean I won’t do you a bit of good?”

The man barked a laugh that filled every inch of the hull. “That was the deal. A safe place to hide in exchange for your service. I told you that when we set sail, anything aboard my ship became my property.”

Kael doubted if this man’s made up rules were considered legal anywhere in the Empire, but he didn’t really care. It was a convenient hiding place, a way to disappear.

Limping after the Captain, Kael ascended the rough stairs to the deck of a large merchant vessel. It looked different in the daytime than at night when he stole aboard. Larger crates of some unknown cargo were stacked neatly in rows and secured to the decking, most likely the cargo that wouldn’t fit down in the hold. As he followed the man aft, he received shifty glances from the crew as they attended to their duties. They were a rough looking bunch with smirks and scowls on their faces. Kael wondered what they were thinking.

The Captain opened the door to the aft cabin and motioned for Kael to follow. Once inside, Kael sat down and the Captain called for a splint to be brought.

“Hungry?”

Kael nodded, wary of the man’s kindness.

“I hope you like fish,” he replied, serving up some stew into a bowl and dropping it in front of Kael.

Kael lifted it to his lips and gulped it down, though his tongue protested.

“Good?” the Captain asked.

Kael just smiled and placed the empty bowl back on the table. “Aren’t you going to ask why I’m hiding here?”

“Don’t care cause it doesn’t matter. We all have our stories, but we don’t talk much here. No…most these folks’d rather work with their hands and forget about what goes on in their heads. No questions around here.”

Kael nodded, liking this man more and more with every second. One of the crew came in and delivered a small strip of wood and some dirty rags, torn into strips. The Captain took the supplies and thanked the man, closing the door after him.

“Well, let’s get a look at that leg.”

Kael held up his hand. “It’s broken just below the knee. And there’s some damage to my hip, but there’s nothing you can do about that. Here, the splint should go on this side.”

The Captain handed the supplies over to Kael. “Sounds like you’ve had some experience with this.”

“Yeah,” Kael mumbled.

“What else do know about? Are you a sailor, fisherman?”

“No,” Kael replied, revealing nothing.

“Hmm,” the Captain sighed. “Looks like Bestio will get promoted. You can take over his cleaning duties. Oh, my name is Gryllus, but folks just call me ‘Captain’.”

Kael extended his hand. “Caleb,” he lied.

Chapter 15

Maeryn sat atop a rocky ledge that overlooked the eastern bay of Orud. Aelia was napping in their room, which left Maeryn alone and watching the tiny white sails move along the water. The breeze moved through her hair and the sun warmed her skin. And though she had many days like this on the island, this was different. The emotional weight that she had been carrying was now gone. And in its place, a sense of peace—which was strange for Maeryn, because if she really stopped to consider her situation, she should have felt lost. No longer did she have a sense of purpose. The mission for which she had risked her life was complete.

No… the people. I didn’t just risk my life for a mission.

And now what? She was in a strange place with strange people, and no idea of what was going to happen next. But somehow, that didn’t matter. She was at peace. For all of the long and grueling years past, she felt like a bird that had broken free of its cage and was now able to fly anywhere. Did the bird fear the freedom, the unknown?

No!

It was how the bird was meant to live.

A noise turned her attention from the ocean back to the mansion. To the left of the large structure, one of the servants was pointing toward her, and next to him stood a tall man. She couldn’t tell anything about him from this distance, but she knew instantly who it was. He thanked the servant and proceeded to cross the expanse of swaying grass between them.

Maeryn rose to her feet and waited patiently.

“Maeryn,” he addressed her in a kind voice.

He was tall, with thick, dark hair, graying at the temples. His piercing blue eyes looked as though they contained great wisdom, but also humility that immediately put Maeryn at ease.

Maeryn bowed. “I don’t know your name, but I am honored to meet you.”

“It is I who am honored to meet a woman of such courage and strength. What you have done is valuable beyond measure.”

Maeryn blushed.

“One day, when we have managed to change this Empire, minstrels will sing ballads of your heroism, and we will feast in your honor.”

“I think it will be you that they sing of,” she countered. “But thank you. You are very kind. And thank you for your hospitality.” She gestured to the mansion.

“I trust you have been well cared for?” he asked.

“Of course…much different than our island home,” she added.

“Yes, I’m sorry about that, about all the confusion. I hope it wasn’t too awful.”

“No, no,” Maeryn corrected. “I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant, well…” she stammered.

“Shall we go inside?” he interrupted.

“Of course,” Maeryn said quickly. She felt mortified. Had she offended him? Their island hideout wasn’t his fault; it was part of Thaddius’ plan.

Just try to keep your mouth shut. Less talking, more listening!

The Resistance Leader—Maeryn wasn’t sure of his title any more than she was of his name—walked slowly back toward the mansion. The grass was soft underfoot and Maeryn walked by his side, listening to him explain where all the slaves had been reassigned. He confirmed that the sale had gone smoothly, without complication or suspicion.

After arriving back at the mansion, they continued to discuss what the Resistance was doing throughout the Empire. Maeryn had so many things that she wanted to ask and say, but she managed to follow her own advice and let him do most of the talking. In this way, conversation flowed freely into the evening. Aelia joined them for a short time before leaving to walk in the vineyard, her favorite place since their arrival.

The time passed quickly and, as the sun began to set in the west, their benevolent host called for a more elaborate supper than what had been planned. After a few hours of preparation, a feast of lamb and duck was laid out before them. Wine from his own vineyard flowed freely for his new guests. Maeryn couldn’t think of the last time that she had enjoyed herself more. And the smile on Aelia’s face made it all the more special.

As the evening activity slowed, the Leader rose from the table. “I’m afraid I will not be able to stay. I have to leave the city for a few days to attend to other matters.”

Maeryn was visibly disappointed.

“But I must say that I haven’t felt such joy in a long time. Maeryn, Aelia, thank you very much for your pleasant company.”

“Will you come back?” Aelia asked.

“Of course… Until then, make yourselves comfortable. Consider this your home. If you wish to go into the city, you need only ask and it will be done. Oh yes! Maeryn, I understand that you had a beautiful garden in Bastul.”

Maeryn wiped tears from her eyes. “Yes I did,” she replied with a questioning smile.

“I have called for flowers and plants of every imaginable type. You will receive them tomorrow. I would very much like to see your talents, and also learn what makes you happy,” he added. “That is…if you still enjoy such things.”

“I do indeed,” Maeryn breathed, hardly able to find the words.

“Splendid! I will return in a few days and will hopefully get to stay longer next time. Good evening.”

And just like that, this gracious stranger exited the house and walked down the front steps to his awaiting carriage. Maeryn stood at the doorway and watched as the team of horses pulled the carriage up the road and out of sight.

* * * *

Life and work aboard the merchant ship would have been hard for anyone, especially with a broken leg. But Kael found it to be a welcome break from the rigorous training at the monastery. Within the first weeks, the Captain realized that swabbing the decks wasn’t the best use of Kael’s time. Instead, he set him to the task of fishing, as well as other sailing duties. Kael welcomed the work as a time to do just as the Captain mentioned—to work with his hands and try to forget about all the things that muddled his thinking.

During his second week, Kael began waking early in the morning as he had done at the monastery. Intending to find a secluded spot to perform his morning exercises, he circled the ship, trying to avoid the few crew members that were manning the sails as the others slept below.

After a few minutes, he found himself at the bow of the ship, where the large crates blocked visibility of the prow and the last five feet of deck leading up to it, the perfect spot. But as Kael glanced around to verify his privacy, he noticed a man standing on top of the crates just above him. Kael stepped to the side to get a better view. Suddenly, a bolt of fear shot through his body and he froze where he stood.

Long, dark hair, flowing in the wind

Slanted eyes

His slow, steady movements were following a pattern that Kael knew all too well.

With his heart pounding in his chest, Kael moved aft. In his haste to retreat, he almost tripped over the Captain.

“Whoa there! Where you headin’ in such a hurry?”

“Who is that?” Kael demanded, though careful not to raise his voice.

“Why don’t you go introduce yourself?”

“No thanks,” Kael replied.

“Kinda looks like the men who were lookin’ for you.”

Kael turned to look the Captain in the eye. “Is he?”

The Captain paused for a moment, studying Kael’s face. “No,” he finally answered.

“Well what’s he doing here; does he work for you?”

“He’s on my ship, ain’t he?”

Kael didn’t reply; he was still waiting for an answer to his first question.

“I keep him around for protection. That little guy’s an animal when he wants to be. You wouldn’t know it to look at him, but I’ve seen him take down guys twice his size. He earns his keep. And he’s pretty handy to have around when you get in a tight spot.”

The next day, Kael rose before dawn and went up to the prow of the ship. As expected, the dark-haired man stood on the crates, facing the bow and performing his exercises. Kael climbed up the last crate, just fore of the mainsail and watched from twenty feet away. It was fascinating. His motions were slightly different than Ukiru had instructed, but eerily similar. The difference was the lack of aggression in his body language, more peaceful. Though it was evident that he was capable of much more.

Kael sat down and rested, feeling a strange connection to this man, drawn to him and yet wary at the same time. He continued to watch for a few minutes longer and then began to feel uncomfortable, like he was listening in on someone else’s conversation. The man never acknowledged Kael’s presence, but Kael knew that he was intruding.

The following morning, Kael rose before the sun and made his way to the stern of the ship. The roof of the aft cabin was level and sturdy. Here he stood, unsteadily with the rocking of the waves and his splinted leg. He was no longer concerned with keeping his exercises private; the crew was used to the sight of the dark-haired man and all but ignored him.

Still unsure of the man’s name, Kael tried to clear his mind and concentrate only on his own movements. Though the soreness was gone, he still had limited movement due to the splint on his leg. Nevertheless, he attempted the exercises that he had developed over the years at the monastery. Of course, he still remembered what Ukiru had taught them, for they all performed those exercises each morning. But alone in his room, he had developed his own in accordance with his own style of fighting. On rare occasions, he had allowed his methods to show during their afternoon training, much to the disappointment of their teacher. After being severely reprimanded, Kael had learned to pretend that such things didn’t exist. Only after he had regained Ukiru’s trust, did he take up his own methods once again, and only then in secret.

Other than the few rebellious occasions during combat training, Kael had no experience to prove the effectiveness of his methods. But the exercises he developed just seemed more natural. During periods of free time, he used to spend hours in the hot spring pool near the stables, practicing the movements. Submerged in water, he learned to feel how the water reacted, and compared his methods to those of Ukiru.

A yell broke his concentration. It was the dark-haired man who had climbed to the roof without detection. He barked another harsh phrase in his native tongue and took a few steps toward Kael. He was much younger than Kael first thought, close to his own age.

“You’re interrupting,” Kael replied.

The man looked stunned. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

He took a few more steps toward Kael, growing more irate. “Who taught you to do that?”

“I taught myself,” Kael replied simply. He was aware that this man expected fear as a reaction, but Kael wasn’t the least bit intimidated.

“Liar,” the man replied. “The ways of my people are sacred and forbidden to outsiders.”

“These aren’t the ways of your people.”

“Because you have desecrated them, and made them into an abomination.”

“If it bothers you, you should leave and give me the quiet respect that I have showed you these past days.”

He rushed toward Kael, clearly displeased with Kael’s responses.

Kael crouched in a defensive posture and brought his hands up, causing the man to stop and reconsider.

Then his leg shot up toward Kael’s face with a surprising speed. Kael dodged to the side and caught the man’s leg, using the momentum to pull him off balance. But Kael’s own movements were stiff and limited because of the splint. As a result, they both fell to the roof. Kael rolled to his feet and spun around to face the man who was already on his feet and ready for another attack.

Kael waited, and waited. But nothing happened. The man backed up and stood from his crouching position. “Heal yourself. When you are well we will test our skills again.”

“…no need,” Kael replied. “I’m well enough to defeat you now!”

The man shook his head. “There is no honor in this. I will give you time.” And with this statement, he turned and left.

“How long did it take you to heal?” Dacien asked, thoroughly intrigued with Kael’s story.

“Another month or so.”

“Then what happened?”

“I defeated him and gained his respect. After that we became the best of friends.”

Dacien shook his head. “No, no, no! You can’t just skip through it. What happened?” he repeated.

Captain Gryllus was not happy about the situation and the potential of having two injured crew members, but knew the importance of honor and respect among men. He finally gave in to their desire for confrontation one evening when sailing through shallow waters. He anchored the ship at sunset and excused the crew from their duties.

There was a buzz of tension about the boat. The rest of the crew wondered how crazy the new kid must be to face the resident warrior, who commanded everyone’s respect. Kael understood what was happening. The pack leader, if they could be compared to animals, was threatened and responded with aggression. At the monastery, it was Soren, and he had never challenged that authority. But this felt different. He wasn’t at the monastery anymore; he was free. And he had promised himself, while swimming through miles of ocean, that he would never again allow himself to be dominated. His days of submission had passed. It wasn’t that he wanted to be the pack leader, nor did he want to be a follower. He just wanted to be left alone. And shrinking from a fight was no way to mark your territory.

As the sun slipped below the horizon, the crew lit torches and gathered at a recently cleared section of the cargo deck, forming a loose circle around Kael and his opponent. The short man had refused to give his name. Now the two warriors stretched themselves, stripped down to just lightweight pants rolled at mid-calf. The Captain joined the crew as well, concerned for the safety of his men.

Kael, ready and willing, made eye contact with his opponent and gave him a nod. The man nodded back and the two turned to face each other.

The crew immediately went silent. The warm summer air was cooled slightly by a breeze. The crackle of torch flames and water lapping at the hull were the only sounds. Kael widened his stance and heard the sound of the deck creak beneath his feet.

His opponent jumped into action, throwing a front roundhouse kick followed immediately by a spinning back kick toward Kael’s midsection. Kael retreated, blocking the kicks with his forearms. The man continued to advance with a variety of kicking attacks that covered the distance between them. Kael parried the attacks, keeping his opponent at a safe distance, studying his style and looking for an opportunity. But his technique was flawless. No over-extensions. No loss of balance. This man was truly an artist.

More kicks, followed by more blocks. Then Kael realized the man hadn’t yet used his hands. Was it because they hadn’t been close enough, or was it that his opponent was weak in this area and was purposely keeping Kael a kicking range? Kael assumed the latter, knowing that it would be painful if he was wrong.

The man spun a back kick and Kael rushed in, slipping inside the range of the kick, which glanced harmlessly off his hip. Driving his fist into the man’s kidney, Kael quickly followed with an upward elbow to the face.

The man’s head snapped backward with a spray of blood erupting from his nose, the blow knocking him back a few steps. Kael advanced to close the distance and take advantage of the situation. But a low kick to his bad leg cut his balance out from under him, followed by a quick jab that rattled his jaw.

Kael dropped to the deck and rolled to the side. The sound of advancing footsteps told him what his eyes couldn’t. As soon as his feet came in contact with the deck, he pushed off and spun around with a kick to the ankles, but there was nothing to impact.

The man leapt over the kick and came down with an incredible force, driving his knuckles into Kael’s face. Kael took the hit and pushed himself upward, burying his shoulder into the man’s chest. He picked his opponent off the ground and slammed him to the deck, buying himself some time and distance.

The crew was amazed at the demonstration, never having witnessed such equally matched skill in all their lives.

Kael felt his awareness heighten and knew that his opponent’s end was near.

The man was back on his feet with a look of determination in his eyes. He advanced quickly with a front kick.

Kael blocked the kick with his foot, then followed with a high snap-kick to the face. Just as his foot fell back to the deck, he followed with the opposite, landing a kick to the stomach. As the man doubled up, Kael followed with an upper cut to the face that sent him sprawling to his back.

“That’s enough,” yelled the Captain, stepping in between the men.

Kael already knew that it was over, and stood still, heaving in large breaths.

His opponent rose to his feet and stood to face Kael. With a quick bow, he acknowledged his defeat and turned to leave.

“Hey,” Kael called, pushing past the Captain. “I’m Caleb,” he said, extending his hand.

The man grasped Kael’s hand in a firm hold and shook it. “My name is Matsuri, and I am honored to meet you.”

Chapter 16

Maeryn hadn’t felt this happy in many years. She wasn’t running from anything, or keeping any secrets. But most of all, she was safe. It was a feeling that she thought would never return. Once in her life, with Adair, she knew what it was like to be cared for and protected. And then there was Lemus. Ever since then, she had been trying to survive in one way or another.

Now she found herself sitting in the sunshine, her hands dirty with the rich, dark soil of the Orud foothills. All around her were flowers of every color and shape imaginable. Her new benefactor hadn’t lied when he described them. Not just flowers, but trees and shrubs as well.

After inspecting and cataloguing what had been given to her, she asked the head servant where the garden was to be planted.

“My lord has given you free reign. You may choose the location.”

Maeryn couldn’t contain her smile. She began immediately to plan the arrangement and quickly determined the locations for the trees and shrubs at various points around the mansion. She saved just a few for the garden itself, but only to provide contrast to the flowers that would be the primary focus. After marking their locations in the dirt, the servants set to work digging holes.

By midmorning, she had outlined the structure of her flower garden between the vineyard and the cliffs leading to the ocean. The servants had already begun to unwrap the burlap from the root balls of each tree and had started to plant them in their respective holes.

Aelia had just completed organizing the flowers by type and color, when the head servant brought their morning tea.

“Would you care to take a break?”

“Of course,” Maeryn replied.

Aelia ran over and accepted a steaming cup. “Thank you,” she offered.

The man simply nodded and turned back toward the house.

As Maeryn sipped her tea, she marveled at how quickly things had changed from constant dread to happy simplicity. If she was tired, she could go to her room and nap. If she felt bored, she could take a walk in the vineyard or ride into the city. She could do whatever she wanted, but right now, she was focused. She put her arm around Aelia and gave her a quick squeeze, then set down her cup, ready to begin planting.

* * * *

The higher elevations of the Anod-Kem Mountains were damp with melting snow. This, combined with the rocky terrain, made for slow passage. For several days, Kael and Dacien were forced to separate, the entire column riding single file through dense forests and over wide-spread rock slides where the ground shifted beneath them.

When they began to descend from the heights, their progress quickened and, once again, Kael joined Dacien at the head of the group. Kael’s story-telling helped to pass the time and so, almost immediately, Dacien asked him to continue.

“Well,” he began. “As I mentioned, Matsuri and I became close friends. We would rise early and perform our morning exercises together, though each in our own way. It was difficult for him at first, but eventually he came to accept it. The Captain was pleased to have two warriors aboard his ship; it gave him a certain confidence that helped immensely in his trading affairs. He had an extensive trading route that stretched across the northern edge of the Empire and west to the islands, then north and east through the various port cities of other countries. Finally, he would end up back in Orlek in the northeastern territory. The whole circle took two years; I stayed with him for almost three cycles.

“Caleb,” Matsuri confessed. “I will be leaving soon.”

Kael wrinkled his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“This is not my home. I have seen what I came for.”

Kael didn’t understand and it must have showed on his face.

His friend took a deep breath before explaining. “For many years, my people never left our fortress city. The young children would grow and take the place of those that had passed on to the next life. But years ago, one of our citizens committed a crime and then disappeared. Many of the youth saw this as proof of what they had been feeling for a long time, that our lives were too confined. After much debate, the elders passed a law that gave any male youth of twenty years, the opportunity to leave for a period of ten years. After living in the outside world, the young man was to return to our city and address the elders, giving his decision to either stay in the city for the remainder of his time, or to leave forever. They were confident that the wickedness and depravity of other peoples would be intolerable.”

“So it is time for you to return.”

“Yes,” replied Matsuri.

“Were you the first to leave?”

“No. Three others left before me. I will not know their decisions until I return.”

“What have you decided?” Kael asked.

“I have spent ten years away from my home. During this time, I have seen many things. I do not agree with the elders that the outside world is completely wicked. There are many bad people, and some good. There are things that my people need to learn and that I can teach them. So I have decided to return to my home and help my people live and carry on future generations. But there are some things that they need to change or they will not survive.”

“It took me several days to come to the realization that Matsuri’s decision troubled me. I was losing a great friend and I couldn’t find a way to accept it. So I confronted him and told him just that.”

“How did he respond,” Dacien questioned.

“Better than I expected.”

“This isn’t about you,” Matsuri objected. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Take me with you,” Kael offered.

Matsuri didn’t respond.

Kael couldn’t tell if he was actually considering it, or if the idea was so preposterous that it didn’t deserve a response. “You said yourself that things need to change. Well, this would be a big change.”

“Hmm,” Matsuri grumbled. “No outsider has ever set foot within the city walls. It is forbidden.”

“Why? We have lived together for six years now. We’re practically family.”

Matsuri was silent for a moment. “You’re absolutely right.”

“I am?” Kael replied, stunned at his friend’s response.

“Yes, though they will take some convincing.” Matsuri paused, thinking through his decision. “Yes. It is a good idea,” he concluded.

“We stayed another week, then bid farewell to the Captain and the rest of the crew. In our honor, they provided an elaborate dinner at one of our port cities. We ate and drank as much as we could, retelling stories of our time together. It lasted well into the following morning. Then we purchased two horses and some provisions and set out for Matsuri’s fortress city.”

“What was the port?”

Kael paused, growing uncomfortable. “I can’t say; it was one of the conditions of being able to see Matsuri’s home.”

“Oh, I see,” Dacien replied, somewhat disappointed. “Can you tell me what the fortress city is like?”

“Only that it sits high atop a mountain plateau with a stone wall and turrets around its perimeter. From the towers, one can see for many miles in all directions. Its location has been the source of much confrontation through the years, within its country. Much like Orud, it governs a narrow stretch of land that connects two larger landmasses. All land-based trade routes and military movements are forced to go through the area. There is also a great river that flows through this territory, making passage difficult. The river is what carved the land away to form the plateau. Because of this, the water splits into two paths and surrounds the mountain upon which the city sits. It is here that the water grows shallow and passable.”

“Oh,” Dacien interjected. “I see where this is going. So they taxed everyone for passage?”

“No,” replied Kael. “In fact, Matsuri’s people wanted only to live in peace. But this was difficult in that every clan and warlord had to pass through this area under the watchful eye of the city above them. This created many suspicions and rumors, such that the city was thought to be in the service of some clans, selling their intelligence information to certain clan leaders. This brought them into the middle of conflicts that they only wished to avoid. Then, one enterprising warlord, who sought to unite some of the clans and thereby secure his leadership over the entire country, knew that controlling this piece of land was crucial to his success. So he sent hundreds of soldiers to conquer the city, only to meet with defeat. But he was not easily deterred, so he sent thousands more and again, met defeat. This struggle lasted a few years and greatly angered the warlord because he couldn’t afford to lose such men at a time of establishing his dominance, but he needed desperately to control the plateau and river passage.”

“So he decided to try one last time. Knowing that he couldn’t best them in combat, for all of the inhabitants were skilled warriors, he laid siege to the city and tried to starve them out. After a month without evidence of anyone trying to leave, he sent men to spy atop the walls. All but one were killed, and the remaining soldier informed him that they were completely self-sufficient, growing their own food within the city.”

Dacien laughed at the situation. “I would like to have seen the warlord’s face at that moment.”

“As would I,” Kael continued. “At this, the warlord knew he had been defeated, though not in the traditional sense. So he flew the white flag of peace and requested conference with the city leader. His request was granted, and the two met at the base of the mountain, each with their own guards ready to fight to the death. The city leader hadn’t given his title or name, so the warlord wasn’t sure how to properly address him, or if this was in fact the leader at all. Nevertheless, he told the man that the warriors of the fortress city were superior and that he would offer them peace in return for his soldiers to train under these extraordinary men. Thinking that this was a trap, the city leader denied the offer, stating that their ways were sacred and not to be shared with outsiders, and though they desired peace, they were willing to endure the alternative to protect their ways.”

“Oh,” Dacien interrupted. “So that’s why Matsuri was so upset with you.”

“Exactly,” Kael continued. “Their ways held a high price. Anyway, the warlord then offered to pay heavily for their knowledge of passage through the area. Again, the request was denied. Finally, at his wit’s end, the warlord stated that he would pay heavily if only the city leader would appoint men to be the warlord’s personal guards. Before the man could answer, the warlord stated that these men would be allowed into areas and be privy to knowledge that few were allowed. Seeing that this warlord was determined and likely to become the king, the city leader liked this arrangement as it would place his people in a position of power without compromising their ways or lifestyle. So he agreed.”

“Wow,” Dacien exclaimed. “…to be so fortunate that a future king would grovel at your feet. Those warriors must have been extraordinary.”

“Indeed,” Kael confirmed. “I cannot tell you of the layout or any details of the city or its internal workings, but I can say that it caused quite a commotion when I entered the city with Matsuri.”

“Wait,” interrupted Dacien. “Before you get to that, I have a question.”

“Please,” Kael said with an upturned hand.

“If their ways were so sacred, how is it that you came to know them? Was your instructor affiliated with these people? What was his name?”

“Ukiru,” Kael replied. “Yes I believe he was, though I never received definite confirmation. You see, I haven’t ever told my story to anyone except you. So I didn’t discuss the matter during my stay at the fortress city. Instead, I came to suspect the same as you, and looked for hints of confirmation. The look of these people, their features, how they dressed and carried themselves were all very similar to Ukiru. But the most interesting observation was the story of a dissenter, a criminal.”

“From the time of his childhood, one man seemed opposed to the traditions of his people. He escaped from the city as a young man. From time to time, they heard rumors of his whereabouts. From what they could glean, the man moved slowly through the country, making money from his ability to fight in staged matches. He was noticed and hired by a particularly brutal warlord and became the Captain of his forces. They were unsure of the details, but apparently something went wrong and they learned that the warlord had been assassinated and the young man was nowhere to be found. There were two possible conclusions to this rumor. One could say that this young man killed his former employer and fled the country. The other possibility is that someone else had assassinated the warlord, and because of the young man’s failure to protect his employer, he was executed.”

“And you believe the former,” Dacien concluded.

“Yes,” Kael confirmed.

“Very interesting,” Dacien stated, seemingly satisfied. “So what did they do when you showed up with Matsuri?”

Kael looked at the sun declining toward the western horizon. “Perhaps that’s a better story for tomorrow.”

Dacien looked ahead and realized that he had been completely engrossed in the story. “Yes,” he replied. “Let’s find a place to make camp.”

Chapter 17

Maeryn was sitting on the covered porch, looking southeasterly at the bay, with her garden filling her peripheral vision on her left. The flowers were a nice addition to this beautiful property and they made her feel more at home. Footsteps to her right startled her. She turned her head and saw the Resistance leader standing at the corner of the house where the porch wrapped around toward the entrance.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. You seemed lost in your thoughts.”

“Oh, that’s quite all right. I was,” she replied, standing and walking over to him. “I come out here to clear my mind. It really is magnificent.” Her hand swept through the air, indicating the view of the ocean.

“I prefer the view in that direction,” he stated, pointing toward the flower garden.

Maeryn followed his line of sight to see what he meant. “Oh?” she blushed, realizing what he was saying.

“It looks beautiful and complements the surroundings.”

“Thank you,” Maeryn replied. “It is easy when you have so many choices.”

“Nonsense,” he dismissed. “Few people have your talents, no matter how much they are given.”

Maeryn was quiet, never quite sure what to do with the man’s compliments, which were never in short supply. She was about to reply when the man began speaking; they both interrupted each other. “Sorry,” Maeryn apologized, deferring to him.

“I was just going to suggest that we take a walk.”

Maeryn agreed and as they descended the steps toward the vineyard, he reached for Maeryn’s hand. She let him take it, and instantly, she felt her senses tingle. At the back of her mind, a question was begging for an answer, something that needed to be answered before she could completely open herself up. But for now, she pushed it aside and decided to enjoy the moment.

* * * *

With all the time Kael and Dacien spent together, the rest of the group had fallen into silence, every man to his own thoughts. Always mindful of the critical social dynamics, Dacien took the opportunity at the evening meal to try and bring the group together. After they had pitched their tents and cooked a simple soup, they sat down by the campfire to eat.

“We have made very good progress and should reach Orud in just a few weeks.”

This met with murmurs of response, but nothing worthy of a conversation.

“Have you ever been to Orud?” Kael asked, sensing Dacien’s intentions and trying to help the situation.

“Yes, once.”

“What is it like?” chimed in another soldier.

Dacien smiled, seeing their efforts begin to slowly take effect. “It’s magnificent. All of the streets are paved. Lamp posts line the streets so that at night, the whole city glows with life. From spring to fall, flowers bloom everywhere you look.”

“Did you have a favorite place within the city,” another asked.

“Well, I spent a few days in the eastern bay area on an errand for the city of Bastul. That was back when I was messenger. It was difficult to stay out of trouble,” he admitted.

The men around the fire smiled with mischievous grins.

“The night life is quite intoxicating. I ended up spending the majority of my time drinking with sailors and fishermen…a good bunch. I ate well and lived like one of the High Council. But when my errand was accomplished, it was nice to get back home to Bastul. One could get lost in Orud. There is something more satisfying about a quite peaceable life.”

The men raised their bowls to Dacien’s words and continued eating.

“I imagine you all miss your city as well?”

Nods of affirmation could be seen all around. “None of us have been this far from Leoran before,” one man stated.

“Well,” Dacien replied. “It is for a good purpose. Be thankful that your home still exits. Mine is destroyed and I don’t know if the Emperor will ever support such a costly rebuilding. But you men…your home stands proud. And you travel to the capital city to support the defense of this Empire. Your mission is important and when it is accomplished, you will return to your families and friends.”

“Thank you, Sir,” one man replied. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to try to get some sleep.”

“…of course. We all should,” Dacien said as he rose to his feet. “Good evening.”

“Good evening,” came several echoes as the group dispersed.

The next day, travel resumed as usual, with Kael and Dacien in the front. For the first few hours, conversation was difficult as they moved over terrain that alternated between rocky and sandy, with the occasional forest to navigate. Just before midday, they began climbing into yet another mountain pass where the land was more stable.

“So how was your reception at the fortress city?” Dacien asked finally.

“Uncomfortable.”

“I can imagine.”

“I’ve never felt so out of place in my life. Matsuri led me right up to the city gates. We were met before we got within a hundred feet. Matsuri began to speak rapidly with the guards. I couldn’t tell if it was the just the language, but every word sounded harsh and intense. Finally, after much negotiating, we were allowed in. They eyed me suspiciously the whole time.”

Dacien laughed. “I can picture you in that moment.”

“Well it wasn’t funny at the time. I had the feeling that I could end up defending myself against a hundred angry men at a moment’s notice. But that never came to pass. They were cautious, but respectful.”

“We traveled through the city to Matsuri’s home, as the custom was to first seek out one’s father. It was the father who was responsible for delivering the child’s message to the elders. I wish I could describe the city to you, but it is forbidden. It is the most beautiful and peaceful place I have ever seen.”

“What did Matsuri’s father think of you?”

Kael shook his head. “At first, not much. He was angry with Matsuri. They spoke for a long time. In the end, I think Matsuri lied to him. From what I could gather, he convinced his father that it was better for someone like me, who had somehow managed to learn their ways, to be within the city and not out spreading their secrets, or something to that effect. So in the end, they came to accept me. But not easily. Once Matsuri confessed his defeat in our fight, everyone in the city wanted to fight me, as a way of restoring their honor. I wanted nothing to do with it.”

“They wouldn’t accept that, would they?” Dacien pried.

“No. In fact, I suffered many beatings trying to keep from fighting Matsuri’s people. But in the end, I decided that the quickest way to reach an understanding with these people was to fight their best warrior.”

“Did you lose?” Dacien asked.

“I wanted to,” Kael replied honestly. “I was trying really hard to stay as unnoticed as possible.”

“But…” Dacien prodded.

“But I never lose,” Kael replied flatly. It wasn’t conceit or pride, it was a fact, and Dacien seemed to accept it as such.

“Anyway, things were different after that. They seemed to accept me as one of their own.”

“Oh, come on,” exclaimed Dacien. “You can’t just leave it at that. Tell me what happened.”

“No,” Kael insisted. “I am not trying to glorify myself. We’ve experienced battle together and that should be enough. I am simply trying to recount my life, so that you will know that I have nothing to hide, that you can trust me.”

Dacien slowed his horse. “I do trust you.”

“No you don’t,” Kael contended. “You’ve always been suspicious of me. That was the issue in Leoran, though you wouldn’t ever say it.”

Dacien stared into Kael’s eyes and finally looked away, as though someone had just spilled his secret. “I’m sorry I interrupted. Please continue.”

The lack of Dacien’s denial told Kael that he had guessed right. He always tried hard to read people, but it wasn’t one of his strengths. But in this case, he was right. “Altogether, I spent four years there…three of which were the best years of my life.”

“Why only three,” Dacien asked tentatively.

“Well…it all started when I fell in love with a girl.”

Dacien’s eyebrows shot up and he whistled a quick and simple melody.

“Yeah,” Kael replied. “At the monastery we were constantly told that women were a powerful distraction, capable of beguiling a man that would otherwise have been impervious.”

Dacien tilted his head. The look on his face said that he agreed.

“In all my years at the monastery, I never met or talked to a girl. Then, aboard the merchant vessel, we were surrounded by women at every port. But all they wanted was money. They would laugh and pretend to like you, but there was nothing real about it.”

“Then I met Suriku and everything changed. She was completely different. She was innocent and shy at first. But I was patient. Eventually, she too came to be comfortable around me. I tried hard to learn her language so that I could talk to her. Over the next few years, we grew very close and spent much time together.”

“But when the elders saw that it was more than a friendship, they confronted us and refused to let us see each other anymore. Apparently, the elders had grown more and more interested in pleasing their newly appointed King. If there was such a thing as royalty in the fortress city, Suriku’s family was it. Her father was one of the elders and was descended from a long lineage of elders. They had been trying for years to arrange a marriage between the King and their princess, Suriku.”

“Wow. You sure have good taste,” Dacien interjected.

“Yes I do,” Kael confirmed. “So my last year at the fortress city was miserable. I couldn’t even see her. The situation angered Matsuri to no end. It was precisely the kind of thing that he hated about his people, the kind of thing he wanted to change. Arranged marriages and vying for the King’s good will, these were evils that he believed his people could overcome. Later that fall, the King came to collect on what had been promised to him. The elders were pleased, but Suriku couldn’t stop crying. Matsuri was furious and couldn’t stand the situation. It burned inside him.”

“The King took Suriku with him and prepared to leave the city, but Matsuri chased after him.” Kael paused, the emotional pain too deep for words. It had been two years, and still felt as though it happened yesterday.

Dacien saw that this part of his past was difficult. He waited patiently.

When Kael continued, his words were softer and quieter. “He tried valiantly and slew five men, but there were just too many. The King’s men ran him through with spears. The King immediately protested to the elders, wanting to know the meaning of Matsuri’s actions. It was in this moment that the elders chose the fate of their people. They actually apologized to the King for this outrage!”

“I ran to Matsuri, but he was already dead. Then I heard yelling and realized what I had done. The King was arguing with elders, stating that they pretended to keep their ways sacred. Yet they allowed a white man inside of their city. He then promised to return in the spring to allow his new bride to see her family, and threatened to bring his armies with him if I wasn’t exiled. The elders quickly apologized and promised that it would be as he asked.”

“I sat in the dirt, with Matsuri’s body in my hands, and watched the woman I loved be taken away by the King. After the funeral, the elders wanted me to leave immediately. I wasn’t in much of a mood to argue. Matsuri was the reason I had come, and he was dead. Suriku was the reason I wanted to stay, and she had been promised to another man. So I packed my belongings to leave that night.”

“As I was leaving, an old man called me over to his front door. He was a master blade smith and former elder that I had become friends with over the years. He invited me into his house for a moment, wishing to say goodbye. He was a man of great wisdom and I had come to enjoy our conversations. He told me that the elders no longer concerned themselves with the old ways and had corrupted themselves with the King. He apologized to me and stated that Matsuri was a true warrior and would have been greatly respected if he had been born in a previous generation. Then he gave me a gift, a ceremonial sword that had been in his family for many generations. It was held in a wooden case, wrapped tightly with silk fabric. I didn’t understand, but he just patted me on the shoulder and said that he knew I hadn’t tried my hardest when fighting their best warrior. ‘You wanted him to feel good about himself,’ he said. I protested, but he insisted that he had never seen such a warrior in all his life. ‘This sword has great sentimental value and this city is no longer a place of honor,’ he said. ‘As long as you carry it, I know that my ancestors will be pleased.’”

Dacien pointed to Kael’s saddle. “Isn’t that the one you used against the Syvak warlord?”

“Yeah,” Kael replied hesitantly. “I ruined it in the process. It was clearly not made for combat, but I had no other option.”

“Somehow I think the old man would be pleased to know that his old relic had drawn blood.”

“Yeah,” Kael smiled. “I suppose you’re right.”

Dacien grinned. “I know a skilled bladesmith in Orud, the best in the Empire. I’m sure he can fix whatever damage was done.”

Kael nodded silently.

“So then you left the city?”

“Yes. I wandered for a while, then made my way to a port city. I thought I would try to find another merchant ship. And I eventually did, but it wasn’t the same as when I sailed with Matsuri and the Captain. I spent the next two years traveling. It was lonely, but I saw many amazing things, places that have never been put on any map. Eventually, I began to feel like something was terribly wrong. I had no place to call home and no friends. I tried many things to keep from feeling empty, but nothing worked. It was then that I made up my mind to return to Bastul. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of returning to see my mother before this point. She had, most likely, agonized over my disappearance. But the thought hadn’t occurred to me until then. Lemus was no longer a concern for me. I thought briefly about what the consequences of my return would be, but I knew there was nothing he could do to me that I couldn’t prevent. And so I made my way back to my home.”

“I set sail from Nijambu in the south. The Captain misjudged his bearings and we didn’t sight land until we were well north of Bastul. He didn’t think I was paying enough for him to turn around, so I purchased a horse and left the ship with more than two weeks of travel between me and Bastul, while the Captain continued on to Orud.”

“Then I made my way south along the eastern coast, where I saw the Syvak ships leaving the river and entering the ocean. And I guess you know the rest of the story from there.”

Dacien nodded and was silent for a few moments, searching for words. “You have seen many things my friend. Amazing and unfortunate things.”

“Now all I want is to have somewhere to call home. But it seems even that is being taken away.”

“That’s what we’ve fought for, Kael. And that’s why we go to Orud. It won’t be taken away, not while men like us are willing to fight. You have a gift, and now a worthy cause to put it to use.”

Kael smiled in return.

Chapter 18

Kael, Dacien, and their traveling companions, descended from the Anod-Kem Mountains to see the plains of Orud stretched out before them to the north. It was fertile land with crops as far as the eye could see. It was nice to see signs of civilization as they picked up a paved road and followed it toward Orud. As they traveled, citizens waved to them from the fields as they planted their crops. As with most Orudan cities, the surrounding territories were typically used to sustain the city itself with the base essentials, various grain crops and livestock, and Orud was no different. In fact, it was the model for all other cities to follow.

The city sat on a narrow stretch of land that ran north and south. To the east and west were massive bay areas supporting the fishing industry, as well as a multitude of trade vessels. With one port to the east and one to the west, Orud was naturally positioned to be the trade center of the region.

Circular in shape, the city walls stretched for miles. Dacien led them through the outskirts and up to the city walls, where the guards questioned them about the nature of their travel. Once past the gate, the surroundings immediately took on an urban feel, much like Leoran. And just as that city had a relationship with the water, so too did Orud. A wide channel ran through the middle of the city and connected the east and the west ports. It was an ingenious solution to the logistics of trade, which allowed Orud to heavily tax merchant vessels for a short journey through the city to the opposite bay, when it would have taken months to sail around the northern and southern landmasses that comprised the Orud Empire. The city’s position allowed this concept to be applied to land as well, with the main thoroughfare running through the city’s northern and southern gates. Kael marveled at how the design of everything within and without the city, only reinforced its dominance and people’s reliance on it.

By mid-afternoon, the group had checked in with the city officials and been given a place to stay, as they had been expected. Kael settled in quickly to his new temporary residence, enjoying the comforts that the city had to offer. For most of the men, a bath was the first priority. The group met up together again in the evening for a hot meal and discussed their forthcoming responsibilities.

“Tomorrow, at midday, I will go before the Emperor and the High Council, to explain our struggles against the Syvak and share our experiences with the Generals of the other regions. None of you are permitted to attend, and it’s just as well; it’s going to be an uncomfortable process that will take the remainder of the day.”

“What are you going to say to them?” asked one of the soldiers.

Dacien thought for a moment. “I’ve never done this sort of thing before. I’ll start by listening, then I’ll tell them of the Syvak’s attempt at invasion. I’ll ask for support to rebuild the cities and increased aid to scout and protect the southern territory. The Emperor has traditionally focused most of his efforts on the constant struggles on the northeastern border, neglecting the southern territory. But with these recent developments, Orud is at greater risk from an attack based out of our territory. The cities are sparse and there are more areas to hide an invading force.”

Another man, who had been looking more and more uncomfortable with himself, finally said what was on his mind. “I mean no disrespect, my lord, but isn’t it foolish to gather all the Generals in one place at a time like this.”

Dacien nodded gravely. “Indeed, but it is not my decision. I must obey the summons despite my reservations.” After a few moments of silence, Dacien rose and announced that he would retire for the evening. “Make sure that you are all reachable tomorrow in case you are called into the council.”

And with that, the group dispersed.

* * * *

Maeryn answered the knock at the door and opened it to find the head servant.

“My lady, your presence is required in the master’s chambers.”

“Oh?” Maeryn questioned, not liking the sound of his statement.

“Please come with me.”

Maeryn followed, nervous about what would take place. She and her benefactor had been spending increasing amounts of time together. And it was clear that there were mutual romantic feelings between them. But they hadn’t acted on those feelings, apart from holding each other’s hand. She wasn’t sure about the depth of her own feelings just yet, but a sickening feeling in her stomach told her that her precious world was about to come to an end.

This is it, Maeryn. Now he wants to collect on all that you are indebted to him for. I should have known better!

The servant opened the door to the master’s chambers. And there in the middle of the room, stood the man who had treated her so kindly. His clothing had been removed so that he was bare down to the waist. But something was out of place. Another servant was there, as well; scarlet clothing draped over his arm.

Maeryn walked into the room and jumped slightly as the door was shut behind her.

“Thank you for coming.”

Maeryn nodded, still trying to make sense of the situation.

The servant unfurled a scarlet tunic and draped it over his master’s shoulders.

As he fastened it at the waist with a braided, gold belt, Maeryn couldn’t help but ask. “What is this? What is going on here?”

“I am answering a summons. The Southern General arrived yesterday and the High Council convenes in a few hours,” the master replied calmly.

“I don’t understand,” Maeryn replied.

The tall man waived his servant away and turned to look Maeryn in the eyes. His own were a piercing blue, which contrasted with his dark hair. He was quite handsome, with an authoritative look about him. Then, the corners of his eyes relaxed.

“That is why I asked for you. My name is Magnus Calidon. I am General of the Northern Territory of the Orudan Empire. I am leaving to the city to answer a summons by the Emperor, who has called the High Council and all of the Generals to discuss matters of grave importance to the safety of the Empire.”

The General spoke in short, concise statements. Even so, Maeryn was speechless. Her mind raced to understand and comprehend what he had just said. After a moment of silence, she spoke.

“…but…you’re the Resistance Leader.”

He smiled. “Yes I am.”

Maeryn paused again looking at the floor. “But how is that possible?”

“Maeryn, please sit down.” He took her by the arm and led her to a chair near an open balcony. Once she was comfortable, he continued. “I hope you appreciate the weight of what I am confessing to you. Only a select few know about the double life that I lead. I could be executed for what I am doing, and yet I am telling you, not out of necessity, but out of choice. And I hope that it conveys the depth of what I feel for you.”

“But what are you doing?” she asked, trying to look past the admission of his feelings to his true intentions.

He thought carefully. “I have watched the Empire build itself through detestable means. You are well aware that abolition of the slave trade is the focus of the Resistance efforts. Yet the Empire’s crimes go even farther than this. They tax their own citizens to death just to maintain their extravagant lifestyle here at the capital.”

Maeryn glanced around the room and started to speak.

“I know that statement seems hypocritical,” he interrupted. “But this mansion is the fruit of my own labors, not the taxation of the working class. I am a wealthy land owner, and have done well for myself through my vineyards and other holdings. And because of this, I am keenly aware of the burden that the Empire places on its citizens.”

“Oh,” Maeryn muttered, her argument disappearing quickly.

“There are many things I could criticize about the Empire, but I have chosen to implement change from within. In the Northern Territory, I have forbidden the purchase of any additional slaves. Those that are within my borders are the property of citizens, and I can’t do anything about that. But I have been successful in stopping the continuance of this evil, and it has had a significant impact on the slave trade industry.”

“How do you hope to accomplish such an enormous task?”

Magnus smiled. “I know it seems enormous, but it isn’t impossible. Look at what you accomplished in Bastul. What you have done, what we have done together, it has made a powerful statement. One that the Emperor can’t ignore for much longer.”

Maeryn breathed heavily. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I need your help. I want you by my side.”

Maeryn turned away, feeling uncomfortable about her own indecision in the face of this man’s open declaration of his feelings. “I’m flattered,” she said finally. “I appreciate all of the kindness that you have shown to us.”

“But?” he prodded, waiting for a few seconds. “I have been dangerously honest with you. I would expect the same courtesy.”

“Alright,” Maeryn exhaled. “Since I was a child, the quality of my life has been dictated by the man who takes care of me. With my first husband, my life was a joy because he was a good man. Then I was forced to marry Lemus and my life became a living hell.”

Tears flowed freely now from Maeryn’s face as she laid out her feelings.

“He was a cruel man and took everything of value away from me. Then I escaped, and somewhere in the process, I settled into this new life where I was in charge. And now I meet you, and you show me kindness that I haven’t seen in many years.”

Maeryn stopped to wipe the tears from her eyes.

“I am grateful to you, but I am not going to give up my freedom and have my life dictated by another man just because he is rich and kind.”

Magnus turned away and looked at the ground.

Maeryn felt a twinge of regret at her words, but after a moment’s consideration, she decided that it was exactly how she felt. “You asked for honesty.”

“You’re right, I did,” he replied. “That’s what I like about you. You are a strong woman who gives straight answers. It is something that is becoming rare in my experience. Everyone is interested is saying just the right thing to keep me happy.”

After a few seconds of silence, Magnus continued, his voice much quieter.

“Maeryn, I don’t want to force anything on you. I just want to have you with me. I will accept whatever terms you offer.”

Maeryn nodded blankly, unsure of how to respond.

“Just think about it. I’ll be gone until tomorrow, but I don’t need an answer right away. Take all the time you need.”

Chapter 19

Kael left word with the servants at the guest quarters of the Emperor’s palace. Dacien had given him the whereabouts of the bladesmith that operated in the blacksmith district. Opting to walk instead of taking a carriage, he was better able to experience the feel of the city. The Palace sat at the center of the city with roads extending outward like spokes from a wheel. Each pie-shaped segment of the city contained a different set of related industries, beginning with the more superficial at the center and ending with the more practical at the city walls.

Kael moved at a leisurely pace down one of the main avenues between the blacksmith and masonry districts. There was a great deal of traffic, both pedestrian and horse-drawn carts. Most were of the working class wearing functional clothing stained from their labor. At one point, a contingent of soldiers marched through in formation toward the capital. Kael stepped aside and let them pass, observing the unity of their movements. They were a tightly organized and disciplined group of soldiers, and presented a formidable appearance.

About a mile from the barrier wall that ran around the perimeter of the city, Kael turned right down a narrow alley. Counting eight storefronts, he stopped in front of a stone building with a small wooden door and an engraved metal sign indicating that he had found what he sought. Immediately to his left was a larger set of double doors, large enough to fit two carts sided by side. Kael guessed that this was a shipping and receiving point and briefly wondered if his sword was too small a task for this operation.

He knocked and waited, but no answer came. Then, he lifted the latch and entered the door, which opened to a small waiting room with chairs. At the back wall, a window looked through to the shop where bright flashes of fire cast orange light in all directions, reflecting off numerous metal surfaces. Kael walked to the window and peered into the shop just as a door to his left opened. He leaned back from the window and turned to see a short man covered in black soot and wearing an apron.

“Can I help you?”

Kael gave him the name of the man Dacien had suggested.

“Wait here,” he replied.

Kael waited, but grew impatient after a few minutes. He had just turned back to the window when the door opened again.

“Yeah, what can I do for you?”

This man was tall and thin, with several days of stubble on his face. Like the other man, he was wearing a leather apron and was covered in soot.

“My name is Caleb. I was sent by Dacien Gallus of Bastul; he says you are a talented bladesmith.”

“Oh, he does, does he?”

Kael started to reply, but the man kept on talking.

“I haven’t seen him in years. Last I knew he was hoping to make Captain. So how’s he doing?”

Kael waited for a few seconds, until he was sure he wouldn’t be interrupted. “He’s doing very well. In fact, he’s now General of the Southern Territory.”

“Oh?” the man questioned. “How’d that happen?”

“Well, we’ve had some trouble in the south. A good man can move quickly through the ranks in times of war.”

“Yeah, I heard about that. I didn’t realize that was Dacien.”

Kael nodded, wondering how word had spread so quickly when they had just arrived in Orud.

“So that means you must be the one who killed the barbarian leader?”

Kael lifted his eyebrows. “You heard about that, too?”

“I hear lots of things,” he said. “But then again, everyone’s heard that.”

“Everyone, huh?” Kael mumbled.

“Everyone,” the man repeated. “So what can I do for you? Any friend of Dacien’s is a friend of mine.”

Kael took the bundle from under his arm and laid it on a nearby table. Untying the silk threads, he opened the wooden case and pulled out a long object that was wrapped in cloth.

The man stepped forward with a smile on his face.

Kael pulled the cloth away to reveal the ceremonial sword from the fortress city. Holding it gingerly, he handed it to the man who accepted it carefully.

“Dacien knows what a sucker I am for this type of thing. …started out making swords and spearheads by myself, but then I found that other things were more needed. …like fasteners for boats, and door hinges. I had to hire a crew to keep up. But this…this is my passion.”

The man’s words warmed Kael’s heart, for he spoke as one who loved what he did. And in Kael’s experience, that quality was usually reserved for only the best. He instantly knew that this precious heirloom was in good hands.

“What happened to it?” he asked.

“Well,” Kael explained. “It’s really only a ceremonial sword, but I found myself in a tight spot and needed to defend myself.”

The man looked up from the sword in his careful hands. “This is it, isn’t it? This is the sword that killed the barbarian.”

“Not exactly,” Kael corrected.

The man looked back to the object in his hands, inspecting it. He cocked his head when he inspected the blade, fingering the curled flakes of metal, peeling back from the edge of the blade. “What’s this?”

Kael leaned closer. “I think it’s glass, covered with metal. It’s not a real blade, which is why it shouldn’t have left its case.”

“That’s unusual,” the man stated. “It would have been easier to just make the center out of a cheap metal than to use glass. The man that crafted this was a master bladesmith, even if it’s useless as a weapon.”

“The man that gave it to me was indeed a master bladesmith, but this sword was crafted even before his time. I know it’s strange, but I would appreciate it if you could just repair it as best you can. Cover up the glass and make it look as though it wasn’t used to chop down a tree.”

“I’ll do the best I can, but metal doesn’t stick to glass. This is going to be difficult.”

“That’s why I came to you; Dacien said you’re the best in the Empire.”

“Did he now?” he asked skeptically. “Well you sure know how to get a man to do something,” he said with a smile. “I’ll do the best I can, but I’m kind of busy and I’m not sure when I will be able to get to it.”

“That’s no problem,” Kael replied. “What do I owe you?”

The man waived his hand. “…depends on how much time it takes. I’ll let you know when I’m finished.”

“…fair enough.”

“Where do I find you when I’m done?”

Kael thumbed toward the north. “I’m staying at the Imperial Palace with Dacien. Just send a message to the guards and they’ll find me.”

The man turned back toward the door to the shop. “Say hello for me, and tell him to bring his lazy self down here when he gets a chance.”

Kael smiled and waved as he left the building.

* * * *

Dacien fidgeted as he waited to be announced at his entrance to the Court of the High Council. His stomach was tied in knots and he couldn’t believe how quickly this had all happened. One day, he was leading troops through exercises in Bastul; the next, he was waiting to go before the most powerful men in the Empire.

“Your majesty,” his escort announced. “…Generals…members of the Imperial Council, I present to you Dacien Gallus, General of the Southern Territory of the Orudan Empire.” The man followed his loud proclamation with confident strides down the center aisle of nearly empty seats.

Dacien followed, observing that this meeting was not open to other citizens, which would explain the empty seating and eerily silent, echoing feeling of the large stone room. As with most places in this city, pillars and statues adorned the walls, while painted ceilings told the ancient stories that all citizens learned at an early age.

Dacien walked between the semi-circle of council members and turned left, ascending a few stairs to take his seat beside the Commander of the Northern Naval Fleet. Once seated, he took note of his surroundings and the important group that he was now part of. There were six non-military members of the High Council sitting opposite from him, each representing a major industry within the Empire. On his side of the room were the two naval Commanders making up the flanks of the opposite side of the semi-circle. He and the General of the Eastern Territory were positioned just inside of that, followed by the Northern General completing the circle. The Emperor sat behind the Northern General, but his throne was seated higher than the rest, such that he could see all in attendance. Dacien’s escort bowed low and left the council, shutting the massive double doors behind him. The booming sound made Dacien swallow the lump of apprehension that had lodged itself in his throat.

“My esteemed guests,” the Emperor began. “Thank you all for joining me at this most troubled hour. I have asked you to come so that we may discuss the state of the Empire. I am troubled by the reports that I am receiving from all the territories. It seems that some ancient enemies have renewed strength as of late, and are doubling their efforts against our beloved home. I would now like to open this discussion to hear your thoughts.”

“Emperor, council members, and Generals,” came the strong voice from the Northern General to Dacien’s left. “Thank you for your hospitality in welcoming us here today. I must say, however, that this is a dangerous time to call together the people in this room. Indeed, as the Emperor has stated, our enemies have doubled their efforts. And you have long been familiar with our struggles in the North and East,” he stated, inclining his head to the young General from the East.

It was common knowledge that the Northern and Eastern territories shared a common threat in the Korgs, another barbarian people who had recently sacked a city within Empire boundaries.

“The Korgs have breached the border and taken the city of Orlek. And while I’m honored to be here, our soldiers are without their Generals.”

Several murmured their agreement. Dacien heartily agreed with him, but decided to hold his tongue until he got better acquainted with his new responsibilities.

“General,” the Emperor replied. “I understand your concern, but a unified Empire is the best defense against our enemies. You all know the process. We will be here for the better part of a week, and if the council decides that it is appropriate, you will return to your homes. But you will not leave without hearing the concerns of those in other regions. I’ll not have each territory working to its own ends; we must determine a unified solution.”

The “process” to which the Emperor referred was his way of leading without making any decisions. Dacien had heard many rumors from his superiors through the years that the Emperor was always greatly concerned with pleasing the council, and didn’t seem to have an original idea in his entire being. But his pleasing of the council is what got him to the position he now held. This meeting was to last four days, the first of which was to decide on a clear statement of the problem, the second to discuss possible solutions, and the last two days to turn the solution into a well-conceived plan. Dacien had to admit that it was a good process, but the implementation had rarely been wise. Sighing at the thought of being in this room for days, Dacien tried to clear his head and make the best of it.

If they think that the taking of one northern city is cause for concern, they need to hear what I’ve experienced!

* * * *

Kael quickly ate his roast lamb, thoroughly enjoying his stay in Orud. The food was extravagant, and the wine was superior to anything he’d ever tasted. He had already cleared his plate before the others were half-through, sitting back in his chair and enjoying the warm feeling that was settling over him.

“It was difficult to say the least,” Dacien explained. “The Emperor seemed to be opposed to everything the Northern General had to say. Of course, he disagreed in the most polite way possible.”

It was the evening of their third day in Orud, and Dacien, Kael, and the others from Leoran were seated at their evening meal. Dacien was recounting the day’s events in detail. And though he probably wasn’t supposed to talk with such ease, Kael and the others were having fun.

“And most of the other council members were useless. There is one young man, influential despite his age. I don’t know what industry he supports, but he is in alignment with the Northern General. One can observe the lines of separation as if they were drawn on the floor; in one group, the Emperor and the two naval Commanders, along with a handful of the council members; in the other, the Generals from the North and East, along with a majority of the council led by the young man.”

“And what side are you on?” Kael asked.

Dacien grinned. “I suppose I agree with the General from the North. His answers make sense, whereas the Emperor…” Dacien trailed off, not wanting to speak poorly of his superior. But he was too honest a man to stifle his intuition.

“I’ve heard it said that the Empire has grown fat and lazy, that we no longer have the resolution of past generations. That’s how I feel when I listen to the Emperor.” After a long pause, Dacien spoke again. “Please excuse me; I have a long day tomorrow and I must turn in early.”

“These meetings will be the death of you,” commented one soldier.

“I believe you are correct,” Dacien replied. “Good evening.”

In the cool of the evening, Kael walked across the courtyard of the Imperial Palace, heading for his room. Walking at a leisurely pace, he took in his surroundings. The massive trees and fountains of water brought Dacien’s words to his mind.

…the Empire has grown fat and lazy…

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Kael greeted the guards as he approached the guest quarters.

“My lord, you have a message.”

“Is it urgent?”

“No, my lord. It was the blacksmith; he wanted to see you. He was excited, but it wasn’t an emergency.”

“How long ago?”

Perhaps an hour,” the guard replied.

Kael looked up at the dark sky, dotted with stars. The wine had made him sleepy and he considered waiting until morning.

“…excited?” he asked.

“Yes, my lord,” the man confirmed.

“Very well,” Kael mumbled to himself. “Now I’m curious.”

“Do you require an escort, my lord?”

“No thank you,” Kael protested, uncomfortable with being called a lord. He really wasn’t a landowner, though the guard’s assumption wasn’t misplaced. Typically, one didn’t travel with a general without being a man of considerable status himself. The thought brought a smile to Kael’s face.

So you’re a man of status now? Very impressive!

It took much longer to reach the blacksmith’s shop at night. Most of the shops were locked up, and the alleyway was completely dark, except for a faint orange light coming from a crack in the door.

Kael knocked.

A small window—only big enough for a pair of eyes—opened at the center of the door.

“…you left me a message?” Kael asked quietly.

The door quickly opened and the blacksmith ushered him inside. The man’s eyes were red and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in a while.

“I suppose it’s going to be expensive?” Kael asked.

“No, no,” the man protested. “There’s no charge.”

Kael was surprised, and about to ask for clarification, when the man turned and walked through the door into the shop. Kael followed, feeling the sense of excitement that the guard described.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

The man shook his hand dismissively. “You have to see it.”

Kael walked quickly after the man, taking note of the furnaces and waist-high anvils placed around the perimeter of the room. Each furnace had a rack of hanging instruments beside it, hammers and other tools for shaping red-hot metal. The room, which was large enough to be a barn, had the smell of coal and sweat.

“...over here,” the man mumbled.

He stopped at one of the work stations, where an object lay on the anvil wrapped in cloth. Kael walked up behind the man and stepped to the side to get a better view. The door to the furnace was open and a white light spilled outward, bringing with it an intense heat.

The blacksmith turned to Kael and lowered his voice. “It looks much different than you remember, but I think…”

Kael, worried about the condition of his ancient gift, ignored the man and leaned forward, pulling the cloth from the anvil.

“…you’ll understand when you see it,” finished the man, his voice trailing off.

At first, Kael didn’t understand. What lay before him was unlike anything he’d ever seen. It was a sword, to be sure. Like a dark prism, it split the light and cast rainbows in all directions. Its sparkle was like that of a diamond. The thin blade, curved elegantly to the handle, with just a slight arc. And ‘handle’ wasn’t the right word, for the blade and handle were one and the same material, separated only by the shape that was appropriate for their purposes. The handle was cylindrical, decorated will all manner of intricate designs, perfectly sized for the grip of a man. From this, the sword narrowed into a smooth blade with a mirrored surface that reflected the images of things around it. It was the most beautiful thing Kael had ever seen.

“I’ve never seen its equal,” he stated with confidence.

“Indeed,” the blacksmith agreed. “…for its equal has never existed, and never will.”

For a few moments, the two stood admiring the sword. Then Kael turned to ask the man a question.

The blacksmith held up his hand. “This is not my doing. I am not capable of creating such artistry, neither is any mortal man. I simply removed what was hiding it.”

“Hiding it?” Kael questioned. “What do you mean?”

“I began by carefully removing the peeled metal, to see if I could understand how it was applied. I determined that it must have been dipped into molten metal, or had the metal poured over its surface. Once cooled, the metal should be able to be shaped as needed. I decided not to dip it for fear that the glass would shatter from the heat. So I poured the molten metal over the blade, slowly, but it wouldn’t stick and rolled off to the ground.”

How long have you been working on this?” Kael asked, not taking his eyes off the sword.

“…for the last two evenings. But as I said, it wouldn’t stick. Then I realized that I could make a hollow mold, like a scabbard of thin metal, and perhaps a resin to adhere it to the glass. But to do that, I had to remove the peeled metal from the sword. So, I unwrapped the leather cord around the handle, removed the guard, and peeled away the metal.”

“And this is what you found,” Kael finished the man’s statement.

“Yes, but there is more.”

The man now had Kael’s attention.

“It was dirty and discolored underneath. So I began to wipe it with a cleaning solution and quickly found the cloth and my hand in shreds.”

Kael now noticed that two of the fingers on the blacksmith’s right hand were wrapped in bandages.

“Then I wrapped a cloth around one of my chisels,” he said, reaching down to pick up an object off the floor next to the anvil. He handed it to Kael.

It was a six-inch iron rod, with a flattened spade at one end and blunt on the opposite end, rounded through years of contact with a hammer. The spade end had a deep gouge that nearly clove the spade in two.

“The sword couldn’t have done this,” Kael replied, handing back the chisel.

The man dismissed Kael’s comment. “After I saw that the glass wouldn’t be harmed, I put it in the furnace to burn off the grime.”

Kael took a deep breath and started to get agitated.

The blacksmith held up his hand. “I knew that it wouldn’t be harmed. And it came out gleaming like this, just as I knew it would.”

Kael paused, realizing that this man was no amateur. He wouldn’t have taken such a risk if he thought there was anything to be concerned about. “And so it’s been sitting here, like this?”

“Not exactly,” replied the man, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Take a look at this,” he said, turning around and motioning for Kael to follow.

At the next work station stood an anvil with a cleft running down the approximate center. “What’s that used for?” Kael asked.

“That’s not used for anything. That’s what your sword did to my anvil.”

Kael looked back at the sword, shimmering in the light of the furnace, then back to the blacksmith. “You can’t be serious.”

“I most certainly am. Try it yourself, but watch out for the blade if you value your fingers.”

Kael eyed the man suspiciously as he backed away toward the sword. As his fingers encircled the handle, he thought briefly that this could be an elaborate joke. In just a few minutes, Dacien would peer out from the shadows, laughing at Kael as he tried to destroy an iron anvil with a glass sword. But that thought quickly left his mind as he lifted the instrument.

It was light, and weighted perfectly, but wasn’t delicate. It felt more solid and dense than anything he had ever felt. As he moved it through the air, the sword seemed to vibrate with a life of its own, and Kael instantly took a liking to it. He walked back to the where the blacksmith stood, and stopped in front of the anvil.

With a quick look around the room to ensure that Dacien wasn’t hiding, Kael moved the blade into position over the dark iron mass. He paused, then tapped the blade lightly on the surface of the anvil. Leaning forward, he inspected the surface to find a half-inch gouge in the hard metal.

The blacksmith was smiling now, and backed away from the anvil.

Kael straightened and widened his stance. With his left hand he gripped the butt of the handle, while his right held firm a full handbreadth away to increase the leverage that could be applied. With a two handed grip, he raised the sword over his head and brought it down in one swift movement, putting his full weight behind the force of the attack.

A high pitched hum vibrated from the sword, followed by a piercing shriek as it impacted the anvil. A bright flash of light momentarily blinded Kael. When his eyes adjusted again to the darkness, the anvil lay in two pieces with the sword embedded in the stone floor. Kael pulled the sword free and lifted it to his eyes to inspect for damage.

“There won’t be a scratch on it,” the man offered.

“Hmm,” Kael mumbled after confirming the man’s words.

“It is one of the ten,” the blacksmith stated, without a hint of hesitation in his tone.

Kael lowered the sword and looked to the man. “What?”

“…one of the ten objects crafted by the gods themselves.”

“Oh yes,” Kael replied. It was part of an ancient Orud legend to which Kael hadn’t ever paid much attention. But now the thought was intriguing. As he moved the sword through the air, getting a feel for how it handled, he continued. “I’ve traveled to many far-away places. And the Orudan are not the only people to have such a legend.”

The blacksmith nodded. “I’ve always thought of it as a fun story, a fairy tale to inspire children, and sometimes men. But until this,” he said, pointing at the sword. “…I never actually believed it.”

Kael didn’t know what to say.

“Look at it. Can the hand of any mortal craft such a thing? It is perfect. It doesn’t even bear any marks of its crafting. I didn’t know that something could be so smooth or proportioned.”

Kael had to agree. It was as if he was holding the idea of a sword, rather than the sword itself. And not even the idea of a master craftsmen, but the idea of someone capable of imagining more perfect ideas.

“Surely, the bladesmith who gave this to you was a highly skilled artist. To be able to cover such a thing with metal is nearly an impossible feat.”

“He was indeed,” Kael replied. Then a question came to his mind, but he stopped short of speaking it aloud. He decided instead to finish up with the blacksmith and leave as quickly as possible. “How much do I owe you?”

The man looked stunned. “…n…nothing,” he replied.

“Thank you for your generosity,” Kael said, walking back to the furnace to grab the cloth from the floor.

“…b…but” the man stammered. “Might I just keep it one more day…to study it?” he added.

“I’m afraid I must be leaving.”

“Of course,” the blacksmith replied, sounding dejected.

“I’ll give your regards to the General. He was right about you…the best in the Empire,” Kael quickly added, trying to distract him with compliments.

“Very well,” the man replied.

Kael strode quickly for the door and bade the man a good evening as he walked out into the alleyway. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt uneasy, like he had secret that needed to be kept. As he approached the end of the alley where it intersected with the main thoroughfare, he glanced back to see the blacksmith standing in the light of his doorway. Kael waved to the man and walked around the corner, out of sight.

After half an hour of waking in the brisk night air, Kael’s heart began to beat more slowly and the questions once again rose to his mind.

Why did the old man give this to me?

And why was it disguised? Then, Kael remembered a moment from his time at the fortress city. He had only ever gone into the temple once, after Matsuri was killed. And he seemed to vaguely remember a glass sword hanging on the wall above the altar.

Is this the sword from the temple?

His mind was now racing as he glanced behind him. After confirming that he wasn’t being followed, he patted the object, wrapped in cloth, that he’d unconsciously hidden beneath his cloak.

Chapter 20

On the morning of the third day of the High Council, Dacien sat in his privileged place among the leaders of the Empire. Plans were proceeding sluggishly as the Emperor tried to concoct a plan from the opinions of the other members present. Dacien kept his mouth closed for most of the discussion, leaving matters to those who were more experienced. The General from the North was trying his best to help put structure to the Emperor’s plan, but only occasionally succeeded.

Somewhere in the middle of discussions regarding the impact of the proposed changes on the social life of various major cities, Dacien noted that the court messenger was standing patiently at the back of the Council chamber. A few seconds later, the Emperor noticed, as well, waving the gentleman forward.

His walk was almost a scurry as he moved quickly down the aisle past the council members, and navigated his way to the side of the Emperor. He whispered something into the Emperor’s ear, which was received with surprise.

“Gentlemen,” the Emperor began, as the messenger walked quickly back through the chambers toward the entrance. “We have an urgent situation to address. We will need to postpone this council until further notice.” The Emperor waved his hand and the double doors at the rear of the room opened to reveal six soldiers in waiting.

They were dirty and in full travel armor, a contrast to the men seated around the room in the council. They strode forward with confidence, stopping just behind the council members.

“Your Majesty,” their sergeant began. “We have been sent to inform you that a Korgan army marches for Orud. We overtook them three days ago, and we estimate them to now be a day’s journey from the outskirts of Orud.”

The Generals were already on their feet. “How many?” asked the General from the north.

“…five hundred.”

The council chamber immediately broke into a cacophony of sound, as the men began to exchange their opinions. Eventually, one voice rose above the rest and order returned to the council.

“We must evacuate the plantations and dwellings to the north and bring the citizens inside the city walls. Five hundred men will be easily dealt with as soon as they are in range of our ballista.” It was the Northern General, commanding the attention of the room.

“We will not allow our citizens to be displaced for such an inconvenience,” the Emperor argued. “No, I think you will ride out to meet them.”

“Your Majesty, I beg your pardon. It will only risk more lives to meet them on the battlefield without the advantage offered by the city walls.”

The Emperor turned to the soldiers. “I assume they are afoot if you overtook them three days ago?”

“Yes your Majesty.”

“Very well. Magnus, you will take my army and ride out to meet them before they endanger any of my citizens.”

“Your Majesty, your army is supposed to protect this city; you will be vulnerable without their protection.”

The Emperor’s eyes flashed. “You are bordering on insubordination, General,” he yelled. The chambers grew awkwardly silent. “My army will protect this city by riding out in full view of the citizens, with you at the front. You will also take the generals from the East and South. And the city of Orud will see how their Emperor deals with threats, not by hiding and waiting, but by striking out to protect them.”

Dacien looked back and forth between the Emperor and the Northern General. “Only us?” he blurted out.

The Emperor’s fierce gaze turned on Dacien. “I don’t see how the North and South naval forces with be of any use in a land battle. If you have a problem with laying down your life in service of the Emperor, we will have to reassess your new appointment. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Dacien replied. But inside, his mind was screaming in anger. The most powerful man in the Orudan Empire had just played favorites as if he was a child. And matters of war were anything but child’s play. Dacien was disgusted by the man’s inappropriate use of authority, but there was nothing that could be done except to follow his orders and make the best of the situation. “Generals,” he addressed his new companions. “Let’s go kill some Korgs.”

“Indeed,” the Northern General replied, with a nod of respect.

* * * *

A knock came to Kael’s door. He was standing at his balcony, overlooking the city and deep in thought about his strange evening. He had moment of panic, an instinctual response, which disappeared quickly as he realized that the sword was safely hidden. He walked over to the door and opened it cautiously.

“My lord, General Dacien sends you this message” said the soldier, handing Kael a small piece of rolled parchment. “He rides north this morning on an urgent matter. You…”

“What matter?” Kael interrupted.

“To confront an army of Korgs; he rides with the Generals of the North and East and they command the Emperor’s army. You are to report to the northern wall as a precaution against a direct attack on the city. Armor and weaponry will be provided. All the information is there,” he finished, pointing at the message.

“Thank you,” Kael replied to the messenger, who promptly spun on his heels and left.

Kael made it to the northern wall of the city just after noon. The sun was high and blazing, the weather getting warmer with each passing day. He followed the instructions on the message and reported to the Captain of the northern district, who provided him with the standard array of armor and weaponry for an Orud ground soldier—one metal cuirass, greaves to protect both the legs and forearms, a small rectangular shield, and a short sword attached to a belt.

Kael suited up and reported to the wall above the northern gate, a massive arched structure, wide enough for ten wagons side by side. He managed to catch the last of the procession—the Emperor’s army—leaving the city. He knew that somewhere, among the bright reflections and red flags, Dacien rode to war, and he wished him well.

Once the cavalry moved beyond the wall, large iron gates were swung into place, securing the northern entrance to the city. The citizens, uninformed about what was happening, lingered about, looking to strike up a conversation to satisfy their curiosity. This marked the end of anything interesting for the remainder of the day and Kael spent his time joking with fellow soldiers throughout the afternoon.

As night fell, everyone’s attention was heightened. It was an unspoken rule that enemies attacked at night. And, coupled with the pace that the Korgan were keeping, they could arrive anytime.

Unless Dacien stops them!

Torches flickered at regular intervals along the top of the wall. Kael stood near a ballista, ready to replenish supplies of iron missiles, should the need arise. His eyes were getting heavy, but he shook it off, blinking repeatedly. Every so often, he would scan the darkness beyond the wall and turn to do the same inside the city, to keep his vision fresh. It was nearing midnight when the shift would change.

Kael shifted his stance and breathed in heavily. Out of the silence rose a strange sound. At first, he wasn’t sure of its identity. But then it repeated, a loud and clear blast of a horn. It was a distress signal.

Kael cocked his head to the side and waited. The third report allowed him to pinpoint the location; it was coming from the Imperial Palace. The other soldiers shifted uneasily, looking out over the wall.

“It comes from the Palace,” Kael shouted.

His fellow soldiers all glanced back to the heart of the city.

“Maintain your posts,” commanded the Lieutenant of Kael’s small force. “The Palace is sufficiently guarded. Those boys can take care of themselves.”

Kael looked around to see concern on the men’s faces, and something inside him told him that he needed to leave. He walked over to the Lieutenant and addressed him quietly.

“…permission to be excused, Sir?”

“Didn’t you hear me,” the man replied. “Stay at your post.”

“I am due to be relieved, and something isn’t right. I need to go find out what is happening at the Palace.”

“You’ll stay at your post. The General put you under my command.”

“…to lend assistance. I am not under your command. I am going to leave and if I am able, I will report to you what is happening at the Palace. Your men are concerned and they have a right to be. We are here guarding the wall and, meanwhile, something is happening within the city. …sounds like a distraction to me.”

The Lieutenant considered Kael’s words, which had been spoken quietly enough not to arouse his subordinates. “…very well.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Kael replied, turning to leave.

“Report your findings as soon as you are able,” the Lieutenant announced for the benefit of his men.

“Yes, Sir,” Kael replied, playing along.

After descending a long flight of steps, Kael touched the ground at a run. He quickly discarded his armor, all except for the sword. Fortunately, the streets were clear due to the hour. Kael’s leather soles beat steadily across the stone streets, as his heart pumped loudly within his chest. After standing still all day, it felt good to be moving.

It was only a few miles to the heart of the city, where Kael came within sight of the Palace. It was a beautiful and sturdy structure, surrounded by grass and water. Large trees ringed the property in a perfect circle.

Kael could see an orange glow and occasional flicker of flame coming from the western side of the building. Smoke was beginning to rise into the night air. As he ran across the lawn, toward the elaborate columned building, he could see confusion among the guards, some of which were glancing about, unsure whether or not they should remain still or move to the western end of the Palace.

Kael approached quickly and startled one of the men, who lowered his stance and held out his spear. Kael slowed to a stop and held up his hands.

“We were guarding the northern wall and heard the alarm. What’s happening?”

The man eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then decided that Kael wasn’t a threat. “A small band of men shot flaming arrows into the western wing of the Palace. Something caught fire. We sent out after them, but they disappeared into the night.”

“Were they Korgan?” Kael asked.

“We’re not sure. They were dressed in dark clothing and their faces were painted.”

Kael thought for a moment. “It’s a diversion. Who’s inside the Palace?”

“The Emperor and Commanders of the north and south naval forces,” the man replied quickly. “As well as…”

“You must get me inside quickly,” Kael interrupted. “Their lives are in danger.”

“We’ve already sent men to guard the Emperor. It is our first priority.”

“It won’t matter. He may already be dead. You must help me,” he pleaded.

The man paused for a brief moment, then nodded to his left. “…this way.”

A maze of hallways passed by in a blur, bringing Kael and the guard to a large wooden door.

“Is the Emperor inside?” Kael asked, breathing heavily.

“Yes. The Royal Guard is with him and the Generals,” the man said, then proceeded to bang the butt of his spear against the door in a rhythmic pattern.

When no answer came, he tried again.

“Is there another way in?” Kael asked.

“It’s barricaded from the inside, but there is another way.” Again they ran, following a circular hallway that surrounded the barricaded room. The soldier stopped abruptly and turned to the wall away from the room. Lifting a heavy tapestry away from the wall, he revealed an opening just big enough for a man to pass through on hands and knees.

“I’ll go first,” he asserted, disappearing through the dark hole.

Kael followed until he could stand, and found himself in a small stairwell that led downward, back in the direction of the barricaded room. He followed the soldier down the passage that appeared to lead underneath the hallway and below the room where the Emperor was kept. And just as he expected, Kael began to ascend stairs until the soldier stopped at a narrow landing, the ceiling only four feet above the ground.

Crouching underneath a wooden door in the ceiling, the soldier wedged his shoulder against it and flexed his legs. Slowly, the door began to give, but appeared to have something on top of it.

Kael moved next to the man and added his strength to the effort. Immediately, the door gave upward and whatever blocked it and tipped over to land with a crash. Kael helped the man upward through the opening and expected a helping hand to come back down. When nothing happened, Kael grabbed the ledge and jumped, pulling himself up to the floor of the protected room.

Before he even got to his feet, it was clear that they were too late. Bodies could be seen lying lifeless around the room. Kael moved as quickly as he could to his feet and scanned the room for his escort.

The soldier was standing a few feet away, looking down at his Emperor, whose head had been removed from his body. Blood had formed a large pool around him.

Kael took in the rest of the scene at a glance. The naval Commanders were lying together to his left, with puncture wounds to the chest. And scattered around the rest of the room, the ten royal guardsmen lay in various positions of death, slain while defending their Emperor. The quickly spreading pool of blood beneath one man’s throat told Kael that all of this had happened only seconds earlier.

“Is there no other way into this room?” Kael asked.

The soldier looked to Kael, startled from his thoughts.

Kael repeated his question.

“No,” he answered.

The two doors on opposite ends of the room were still barricaded with large timbers. And the passage that they had just taken showed no signs of tampering. Kael searched the walls for signs of entry. Eventually, his gaze went upward to the rounded ceiling with ten small panels of colored glass set into the dome. In the day, it would have been easy to see, and beautiful to behold. But the dark night sky beyond hid the ceiling in shadow and made the windows nearly impossible to see.

“Is there a way to get up to the roof?” Kael asked with a sense of urgency.

The soldier picked up on his meaning and looked upward. “Yes,” he said, with vengeance in his eyes. “…this way.”

Kael followed the soldier back through the secret passage. Judging by the size of the timbers in front of the doors, it was a wise choice for the quickest exit. More hallways and turns led them past several fallen soldiers, slain in the same way as the men in the Emperor’s safe room.

Spilling out into one of many courtyards within the Palace, the two turned sharply and ran to a darkened corner, which turned into a narrow staircase. Kael pushed past the man and bolted up the stairs skipping many with each stride. His heart pumped strong in his chest as he anticipated a confrontation.

The stairs opened to a sand covered roof surrounded by a low wall around its perimeter. Various large shapes protruded from the sand, structural elements of the Palace construction, each large enough to hide several men. And in the center of the roof was a dome with colored glass windows set five feet apart.

Kael stopped, his eyes scanning the rooftop for signs of movement. His ears told him that the soldier was approaching the top of the stairs behind him. He held out his hand indicating that the man should stop and the footsteps obeyed his instructions.

“You take the left and I’ll go right,” the soldier offered.

“NO!” Kael said, his voice as hushed as he could make it. “Stay close to me.”

Silence followed and Kael took it to mean acceptance. Slowly, he crept forward, trying to listen over the sound of his own heartbeat. The faraway sound of voices came from the west as the Palace guards tried to put out the flames, unaware that their efforts were wasted. The goal was already accomplished.

Shadows everywhere. Which one are you hiding in?

Suddenly, movement to the right caught Kael’s attention as a shadow darted behind an obstruction.

Kael burst forward, trying to close the distance and get a better look.

It was so fast and silent that it seemed to disappear.

Kael stopped again, letting his instincts tell him where the phantom had gone.

Then it seemed to materialize in the form of a man standing on top of the wall fifty feet away, much farther than Kael would have guessed.

“Ukiru,” he called out.

The dark silhouette turned back and cocked its head to the side, with a look of curiosity.

Kael moved forward, brandishing his sword, the Orud guard only a few steps behind him. And then the shadow disappeared. Kael caught only a brief glimpse of a rope, coiled around its leg as it dropped out of sight.

Rushing forward, he confirmed that there was a rope tied to a nearby beam, extending over the edge of the Palace roof. By the time he reached the edge, he could only see the swaying end of the rope, a few feet short of the ground. Looking outward, a shadow melded with the nearby trees and vanished.

Kael sat down on the low wall and looked out over the city. He couldn’t quite feel it yet, but he knew that this was going to trouble him deeply.

First Narian…now Ukiru!

Slowly, a deep anger began to burn within him.

Chapter 21

The mid-afternoon sun filtered down through a blue sky, dotted with patches of cloud. Dacien rode at the front of the column with the other Generals. They were exhausted from their non-stop trip, which carried them north and east to the plains between Orud and Nelhut. There they confronted the Korgs who were moving as quickly as any un-mounted force, taking them by surprise. They were no match for mounted cavalry from the most powerful military force in the civilized world.

Weary and in need of recuperation, Dacien was disappointed to see three riders, bearing the distress flag of Orud, riding north to meet up with the army. A quick conversation with these men told of the Emperor’s death, and that of his Commanders.

“The High Council has called an emergency meeting at sunset, and the presence of all the Generals is required.”

The General from the north simply nodded in acknowledgement, no signs of exhaustion in his demeanor. “We will be there,” he said confidently.

The three riders turned and galloped away to the city, while the army resumed their slower-paced ride back to their home. When they reached the gates of the city, a loud cheer went up from the crowds gathered there. It was nothing unusual, for citizens always showed such support. But on this occasion, the sheer number of people attending was unlike anything they had seen before.

Magnus turned to Dacien and the Eastern General. “We should all take the next few hours to rest, eat and get cleaned up. I’ll see you at the High Council chambers at sunset.”

Dacien and his counterpart saluted with closed fists to their chests, then entered the northern gate and immediately went their separate ways through hundreds of loyal citizens screaming at the top of their lungs.

Dacien didn’t feel much like eating, and went straight to his chambers for rest. Despite his own instincts about the wisdom of striking up a conversation prior to sleep, he asked his guards about Kael. They didn’t know where he was, but they relayed the happenings from the previous evening.

“And he left his post?”

“That’s the rumor,” one man replied.

“I…,” Dacien began, but couldn’t finish. “I don’t want to be disturbed while I rest. If I oversleep, wake me one hour before sunset.”

“Yes, my lord,” the guard replied.

Dacien collapsed on his bed, exhausted and ready for sleep. But after a few moments, his mind was racing about Kael. Why would he leave his post? Why did Kael have to get into the Palace?

Slowly, the feelings that Dacien had kept hidden since their time in Leoran began to come to the surface again. He had a sickening feeling that Kael was the assassin. But he quickly tried to dismiss the idea.

No. He couldn’t be. Or could he? He said himself that he had been trained since he was young.

Dacien rose to his feet and paced around the room. Never before had he been so close to such intrigue. The Emperor and his Commanders murdered in the Palace. Emergency sessions of the High Council.

So much for resting!

The mood inside of the Council chambers was quite different than the last time Dacien had been present, and for good reason. Three of the seats in the circle were vacant. An awkward silence lasted for several minutes before the youngest council member spoke.

“It is under grave circumstances that we meet here today. By now, you have all heard of what transpired yesterday evening. I will not recount the story; there will be time for that later. We will have to postpone our mourning to deal with the emergency at hand.”

The young man sat back in his seat, and another older gentleman took over. “Our Emperor has been assassinated. The Syvaku have destroyed countless cities in the southern region. And the Korgan have breached the wall in the northeast and taken the city of Orlek. Fortunately, the army that you defeated,” he said, pointing to the General from the north, “was the only group to have penetrated this far to the interior of our Empire. While this council is devastated by what has transpired, we must act quickly or all will be lost. This is why we called you together.”

The man took a deep breath and continued. “Magnus Calidon, we wish to appoint you as Emperor of the Orudan Empire, effective immediately.”

The General from the north stood and looked around the room as murmurs of approval mixed with nods of affirmation. “Does this council understand what is being asked of me?”

“Yes we do,” the man replied. “Our Empire is crumbling, and these times call for drastic measures.”

“Sir,” the General replied. “With all due respect, this council has opposed many of my initiatives and has consistently chosen to disregard my advice.”

“Yes. And look where it has gotten us!” the man said, more to the council than to Magnus. “The economies of the North and East are strong, even amidst the conflict along your borders. And though we haven’t given you the support you requested, you have proven your ability to act decisively and defend this Empire.”

Magnus looked to the ground while the council chambers were silent. “Very well. I have not asked for this position, but I am first and foremost a servant of the Empire. If this is what is required of me, I will take up this position with the utmost respect and reverence for it. It is my honor to serve you as Emperor!”

Cheers of approval went up from the rest of the council. Dacien stood and clapped as well, a deep satisfaction welling within him. At a time of such turmoil, he was confident that the council had chosen wisely.

Magnus spoke over the applause as it slowly quieted. “We will have to postpone the coronation as well as the funeral due to our urgent situation. However, I think a small celebration is in order. The gods know that we could all use a respite. Tomorrow evening, we will have a banquet, and all of the most influential citizens of the city will be invited. During the feast, I will announce my plans to bring this Empire together and make it strong once again. And I will proclaim the following day as a day of rest and play for the citizens of Orud. No work is to be done within the city until sunrise the next day.”

The young man from the council replied. “That’s only one day. Will you have enough time?”

“It will be enough,” Magnus answered. “Sleep will have to wait. My first order of business will be to appoint our new Naval Commanders.”

“Do you have any thoughts on who you will choose?” the older man asked.

“I will start by speaking with the second in command from each navy, although I will not necessarily choose them. I will be looking for strong leaders, regardless of age or seniority. Skilled men are what we need in times like these. I know this has been a point of contention in the past, but I expect your full support.”

“You have it. We are ready for change,” the man replied.

“Very well. I have a busy night ahead of me, but I will see you all at the banquet tomorrow evening.”

“Hail Emperor of Orud,” the council members shouted as Magnus walked down the aisle.

Dacien smiled. Now we’re getting somewhere!

* * * *

Kael chewed a piece of roasted chicken, while Dacien recounted the events of the past few days. He and the other soldiers from Leoran sat at the table and shared dinner as had become their tradition since arriving in Orud. It was amazing how quickly things could change. One day, Kael was riding back toward his home in Bastul, and now he sat with a General in the Empire’s capital city, discussing the appointing of a new Emperor.

He was doing his best to stay engaged in the conversation. And though it was all very interesting, especially the battle with the Korgs, Kael was deeply troubled. He hadn’t had a moment alone with Dacien since his return, and it looked like he wouldn’t get to speak with him anytime soon. He was burning inside with a vital piece of information, but he’d only shared his history with Dacien, so he couldn’t speak openly in front of the others.

The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Narian leading the Syvaku was strange by itself. But after seeing the assassin… It must have been Ukiru. No else could move like that! And if that’s the case, then the logical conclusion is that they are all behind the attacks on the Empire. I need to discuss this with Dacien. I have to get him alone!

“…what do you think?”

“Sorry?” Kael questioned, shaking off his thoughts. “Were you talking to me?”

“Of course I was,” Dacien replied. “I said the new Emperor wants to meet you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Well, actually, he wasn’t Emperor at the time he asked about you. It was while we were returning from the north. He said he wanted to meet you, so I thought this banquet would be a good opportunity.”

“Sure,” Kael responded.

“Try not to sound so excited,” one of the soldiers said.

“Alright. I would be honored to accompany you to the banquet.”

“That’s better,” Dacien said, raising his glass.

Kael tried to make eye contact with Dacien, who was in good spirits this evening and clearly enjoying his wine. When he finally looked back, Kael tried to get his attention. “…could we…” he began, nodding his head away from the table.

“No,” Dacien announced. “No more serious discussion. This is a time for celebration. Eat your food and drink your wine.”

Kael shrank back in his chair.

* * * *

The sound of wheels against the dirt road brought Maeryn out of her seat. She ran to the edge of the porch and saw Magnus’ carriage coming down toward the house. She tried to wait patiently, but her wringing hands indicated otherwise. Putting them behind her back, she stared out to the road.

That’s strange! What are those soldiers doing with him?

A moment of panic seized her throat as she feared that their secret had been revealed. Trying to calm herself down, she thought of the possible explanations.

He is a general, so he does have soldiers. Perhaps with all that’s been happening, he is traveling with increased protection.

The carriage stopped and Magnus stepped out.

Maeryn walked briskly out to meet him. “I’ve been worried sick. They said that the Emperor was assassinated. Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” he dismissed.

Maeryn could see that he wasn’t fine. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red lids. He looked as though he hadn’t slept at all. “Is something wrong?” she asked, looking to the soldiers who had come up beside Magnus.

“Please give us a minute,” he asked the guards.

“Yes, your majesty,” they replied, bowing low.

“…your majesty?” Maeryn questioned.

“I’ll explain. Let’s take a walk.”

Magnus led Maeryn toward the cliff overlooking the ocean. They were both silent until out of hearing from the soldiers.

“Alright. Tell me what is going on.”

“Maeryn. Something incredible has happened. It’s tragic, but amazing at the same time.”

“What?” Maeryn pleaded.

“You are looking at the newly appointed Emperor of the Orudan Empire.”

Maeryn stopped walking and turned to the man whom she had grown strangely attracted to. She put her hand over her mouth and stared at him for moment, taking in his words. Their relationship was strange enough as it was, but now this!

“Isn’t it amazing?”

Maeryn removed her hand from her mouth. “They appointed you after…”

“Yes,” he replied.

“And now you’re…”

“Yes.”

“That means…”

“Exactly!” he exclaimed. “Think of what we can do now.”

“But how will you explain to the council?”

Magnus smiled. “They don’t have to know. But I’m the Emperor now; I can change it all. I can put an end to the slave trade. In fact, that’s why I’m here. I’m having a banquet and I want you to come.”

“…as what?” Maeryn asked. “I’m flattered, but I won’t go back on what I said just because you’re an Emperor now.”

“I didn’t expect that you would,” Magnus replied with a gleam in his eye. “You can come as my guest, or anonymously if you wish. But I would like to share this moment with you. I will be presenting the new Naval Commanders and laying out my plan to unite this Empire against our enemies.”

Maeryn was silent.

“Will you come?”

“What about Aelia?”

“Of course she can come, as well. So what do you think?”

A slow smile spread across Maeryn’s face. “Your majesty,” she bowed. “It would be an honor.”

Chapter 22

The feast was being held on a rooftop terrace on the Palace grounds. Kael and Dacien arrived together, but Kael still hadn’t been able to inform the General of what he thought was happening. It was frustrating, but he tried to stay in the moment and enjoy the feast.

There will be time tomorrow, after the feast!

The building was surrounded by a double assignment of guards, who pulled their spears apart when they saw Dacien. Kael followed a half-step behind, enjoying the privileges of traveling with his friend.

A short flight of stairs led them to the rooftop, which was lavishly decorated for the occasion. Sconces burned along the short walls surrounding three sides of the building. It was already crowded with honored guests of every powerful family in the region. The members of the High Council were also present. At the far end, a canopy covered a wide table with five chairs facing back toward the rest of the terrace. Behind the center chair, and raised slightly, was an elaborately carved chair with a dark-haired man seated casually. He was leaning forward and speaking into the ear of the man seated in front of him.

“Is that him?” Kael asked.

“Yes,” he said, pointing. “In front of the Emperor is the newly appointed General of the Northern Territory. The men to the left are the Northern and Southern Naval Commanders, and to the right is the Eastern General.”

“And the empty seat is yours.”

“Precisely!”

“So you brought me to this feast so that I could make small talk with strangers?”

Dacien smiled. “But they are the wealthiest citizens in the Empire.”

“Well, in that case, I think I can manage.”

“You didn’t think you would get to sit with the Emperor, did you?”

“No. I don’t think that highly of myself.” Kael shot back with a grin.

“I must take my seat. Do try to stay out of trouble.”

“Certainly,” Kael replied.

As Dacien walked to the front of the terrace, Kael glanced around the rooftop. In the fading light of dusk, the extravagance was impressive. Everywhere he looked, there were servants, both male and female, walking briskly with platters of food and goblets of wine. Kael grabbed a goblet from the nearest tray and moved to the side of the building. Contented to watch the interesting people, he took a seat near the wall.

Dacien took his seat next to the General from the east and immediately struck up a conversation. Kael smiled and looked up to the darkening sky. Dacien was made for this sort of thing. The first time Kael met him in Bastul, he could tell that the man was a good leader.

“Are you hungry, my lord?”

Kael looked up to find an attractive young woman extending a platter of cheeses and olives. “Oh, I’m not a lord; I’m just here to watch all of you beautiful people.”

The woman giggled.

Perhaps this won’t be such a dull evening after all!

The evening proceeded more quickly than Kael expected it to. He avoided conversation with the elderly gentlemen who seemed to be professional conversationalists. He wondered if these men ever worked a day in their lives. Instead, he made it a point to talk briefly with the young servant woman each time she passed by. Sadly, she informed Kael that she couldn’t stop working and had to keep moving so that her master wouldn’t notice. And so the evening went, with spurts of conversation and moments of eye contact from across the room.

Two hours after sunset, the crowded rooftop grew silent, as if coordinated by some signal. Kael, distracted by his new acquaintance, didn’t notice what was happening until the very last second. He quickly took his seat as the Emperor rose from his throne. The blonde woman that had been at his side all evening took a seat near Dacien.

“Honored guests,” the Emperor began, loud enough for all to hear, without showing any extra effort. “I am pleased that you have joined me in this small celebration. And I hope that the food and drink are to your liking.”

This brought a cheer from the crowd. Kael clapped his hands to keep from standing out.

“Until sundown tomorrow, our time of celebration will continue. But amidst our joy, I cannot forget the tragedy that has befallen our Empire. Therefore, we come to the real purpose of this meeting. I have brought you all here so that you may be the first to hear of my plans to restore this Empire to the status that it has fought so hard to attain. There was a time when the name of the Orudan Empire would strike fear into the hearts of our enemies. There was even a time when our enemies had been so defeated, to the point that they were hardly of any consequence to the citizens of this great country. Sadly, those days are over.”

Kael caught the eyes of the servant girl and nodded for her to come over. She winked an acknowledgement then began to make her way slowly through the crowd. This time she carried wine and was stopped more often by the other guests.

“…these changes will be difficult for some,” the Emperor continued. “…but we have much work to do and it will take our united efforts to regain our former power. And so, over the next few weeks, the laws will be changed thusly—first, the structure of our military forces will be reorganized to eliminate the non-combatants. Soldiers will carry their own provisions and be more self-sufficient, not relying on costly and slow supply trains for food and provision. Secondly, we will create smaller, more efficient groups, able to cover more distance at a time. This will give us flexibility in dealing with the disorganized and often unmanageable way in which our enemies attack. And we will no longer be vulnerable to losing provisions for an entire army by one focused attack.”

The servant girl finally made it over to Kael. “Here I am. Would you care for some wine?”

Kael accepted. “I never asked you your name,” he whispered in her ear.

“And you still haven’t,” she wittily replied.

“Alright, what is your name?”

“Julia.”

Suddenly, several members of the crowd came to their feet amidst mixed sounds of disapproval and cheering.

Kael wondered what the Emperor had said. Evidently, it was something that had caused the guests to divide into two distinct groups.

“…it is on the backs of these people that our nation has been built. But they are treated as though they have no value.” Now the Emperor was shouting. “We, in Orud, are insulated from what is happening in the rest of the Empire. This night, we have an honored guest who has seen first-hand the treachery of the enemy.”

A feeling of panic shot through Kael’s body like a bolt of lightning. He knew the Emperor spoke of him, and knew that he was going to be publicly used to make a point. It was the worst feeling for someone who didn’t like attention.

Kael looked to Dacien who was waving at him to come to the front. Kael took a deep breath and began to make his way through the congested rooftop, his heart beating madly within his chest.

“After destroying ten cities along the western shore, the two barbarian armies turned inland and attacked the capital of Leoran. This man to my left,” he said, pointing to Dacien, “led the brave Leorans to victory. But the final blow was dealt by this man coming forward now. As the Syvak warlord escaped into the forests, this brave man gave chase, returning with the barbarian’s head.”

The crowd gasped at the description of war and things that they would rather not know.

“Kneel, servant of Orud. And receive my blessing, for you have shown courage beyond measure and have done what few in this Empire are willing to do, what few have the stomach for.”

Kael knelt and bowed his head to the floor as the Emperor neared him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Kael breathed heavily, trying to steady his heart as he did when exerting himself. Slowly, he felt himself calm, helped to a large degree by the sound of the Emperor’s voice. It was soothing, yet powerful, with a familiar tone. He was good at speaking and could see why Dacien said he commanded an audience.

Such a familiar sound….

Suddenly, fear gripped Kael’s heart and his body felt weak—a fear that went far beyond that of discomfort at being in front of a crowd. It was a primal fear that compelled him to either fight or run.

The High Priest!

The realization hit him like the impact of the ocean after falling from the cliffs of the monastery.

“There was a time when we, as a people, had the stomach to live in a world of barbarians, and carve out a piece of it. A piece that we determined would be our home. A piece of land that we would defend with our very lives. An Empire that could never be destroyed. We have grown weak. We have grown fat. We have grown lazy. We have others do our work so that we may live in luxury. No longer. It will not be tolerated!”

Kael began to sweat and his throat tightened.

{I can feel your fear, Kael…you traitor!}

The words came into Kael’s mind, uninvited.

{You have every reason to fear for your life.}

{You are surrounded by those you betrayed!}

The words in Kael’s mind came from the High Priest, even as he continued to speak audibly to the crowd.

“Rise, brave warrior.”

Kael pushed with wobbly knees until he stood in front of the only man he feared. He looked into piercing blue eyes and felt the same horrible presence emanating from the man that he experienced at the Temple so many years ago. He wasn’t just a man. There was something else there; something evil and powerful.

{Look around and see what you have forsaken,}

{for you will not live to see the sunrise!}

Kael focused his eyes on those that sat at table behind the Emperor. To the far left, he recognized Horace, the Southern Naval Commander. To Horace’s left, sat Arden, the Northern Naval Commander. Over the Emperor’s other shoulder was Berit, newly appointed to the position of Northern General in the place of the Emperor. Then there was the General of the Eastern Territory. Soren looked intensely into Kael’s eyes and another voice entered Kael’s mind.

{You will wish that you had died in that ocean!}

Finally, there was Dacien, beaming proudly at the audible words that the Emperor spoke of his friend.

Kael felt nauseous. He had run from his past for so many years. And now his past sat in front of him, with murder on their minds.

The Emperor released his grip on Kael’s shoulder and took a few steps back, motioning to his left. Kael looked over to Dacien who was now on his feet, indicating that Kael should take his seat. The Emperor continued to speak to the crowd and Kael moved slowly in Dacien’s direction.

A white-haired man sat against the wall. A servant girl passed by, but not the one Kael knew. These people were oblivious to what was happening. They were entranced by the High Priest and his poisonous tongue.

Instinctively, Kael burst into a run. Using a chair as leverage, he vaulted into the air and over the wall, tucking into a flip as he moved away from the building. Two seconds passed before he felt the fabric of the awning give way beneath him. The sound of tearing and rending of metal supports preceded his awkward landing to the ground.

As soon as his feet were under him, he leapt into a full run, legs pumping as fast as he’d ever run before. The grass passed swiftly underfoot until he met the paved road that circled the Palace grounds. A few more seconds and he passed beneath the great trees that designated the Palace boundary.

Kael ran in a panic, trying to put as much distance between himself and the Palace as was possible. He wasn’t sure how long he had run, but when he finally lost his breath, he found himself in a rundown part of the city. Hearing water nearby, he turned to his right and followed a narrow road that hadn’t been maintained. The pave stones were lifted out of the ground in many places, making for dangerous footing.

No matter. I can’t possibly run anymore!

Kael sat down on a crumbling portion of a bridge that spanned a narrow waterway. It was dirty and probably close to the outskirts of the city. There wasn’t much light, but what was available only made the surrounding shacks more detestable.

“Psst.”

Kael looked up.

A tall man stood across the water, twenty yards away. It was the white-haired man from the feast.

Kael jumped to his feet.

The man quickly held out his hands, indicating that he didn’t mean any harm. “The guards will be scouring the city looking for you. Come with me!”

Kael looked back to the west. “Did you follow me? How did you get here so quickly?”

“Never mind that! Come with me if you want to escape,” the man said, his hushed words reflecting off the water.

Kael walked farther down the bank and crossed the waterway via an arched stone bridge. Before he got close to the stranger, the man ducked into an alley. Kael walked quickly to the alley and peered into the darkness, cautious of betrayal.

The man stood at the end of the alley where it opened into another street.

Alright old man. You’d better not get me caught; your life depends on it!

Kael followed the man in a zigzag pattern through the city. The journey took close to an hour and finally delivered them to the docks of the eastern bay. Kael tried to walk quickly enough to catch up to the man, but it was no use. Short of running, Kael wasn’t going to see the man’s face. Instead, he followed the stranger out to the end of the dock where he boarded a small sailing vessel.

“…you know how to sail?” the man called quietly.

“Yes.”

“Then take the rudder,” the man said, moving to the opposite side of the boat.

Kael stepped down on to the deck of the boat, which rocked slightly, keeping time with the surface of the water. He was already standing in the aft section and quickly took command of the vessel, as the stranger cast off the lines, allowing them to drift away from the dock. Releasing another knot, the sails unfurled and caught the breeze.

Kael felt the ship move beneath his feet, and leaned forward to catch his balance. Within minutes, they cleared the docks and headed into the open water.

Kael sat on the bench behind him, with one hand on the rudder, while the other man stayed at the prow of the ship. “Where are we headed?” he asked the owner of the ship.

I hope he’s the owner. Or else we just stole this ship!

“Turn a few degrees to the north. We’re headed to the shore there,” he said, pointing to the northeast.

Kael followed the man’s directions and sat in silence for the rest of the journey. An hour later, they approached the shore as the man gave Kael directions. They came to a jolting stop on a sandy shore in front of a small, but secluded dwelling.

“Throw out the aft anchor,” he called to Kael.

Kael did as he was told, watching the man do the same with the fore anchor. Then, with the agility of a child, he swung off the deck and landed with a splash in knee-deep water and began to walk toward the house.

Kael followed his example and tried to keep up, but managed only to stay several paces behind. He wondered why the need for such secrecy, but had a feeling that he would find out soon.

There’s no way you can hide in a house!

Regardless of the man’s unusual behavior, Kael was relieved to be out of the city, and thankful for his help. But he couldn’t let his guard down and watched the man carefully, while taking mental notes of his surroundings with nothing more than a glance. The house was a simple wooden structure with one door facing the beach. Kael hung back as the man opened it and entered the darkness. Seconds later, a soft glow shown around the silhouette of the door.

“Please come in,” came the voice from inside.

Kael looked for signs of ambush, but didn’t sense anything out of the ordinary. Though ordinary was becoming a strange word lately. Pushing the door inward, Kael saw a simple, but clean home, without any dividing walls. The kitchen and bedroom were off to the left, while a small sitting area occupied the right half of the dwelling. The man had his back turned and was pouring two glasses of wine.

“You have nothing to fear from an old man such as me. Please have a seat.”

Kael walked over and sat in a comfortable chair, exhaling as he did so. “You don’t move like an old man.”

The stranger turned around an offered a glass of wine to Kael. His face came into the light revealing a friend that Kael remembered vividly from his childhood.

“And I’ve heard that I don’t look like one as well!”

“Saba?” Kael said slowly.

“Hello Kael.”

The old man’s hair had been cropped short and his face was cleanly shaven. Only, he wasn’t an old man. Although his hair was white, he looked to be only forty or fifty years of age. Kael sat back quickly, as if he were looking at a ghost.

“Take the wine Kael; we have much to talk about.”

Chapter 23

Dacien sat in the Emperor’s war room, with the other Generals and Commanders. Kael’s strange behavior prompted the private meeting and it was clear that the Emperor was concerned.

“Frankly, I don’t understand it,” Dacien admitted.

The Emperor sat forward in his chair. “How long have you known him?”

Dacien thought for a moment before responding. “…since the attack on Bastul. We’ve been together ever since.”

“I see,” said the Emperor.

Dacien stopped short of explaining how they met. The more he thought about it, the worse it sounded. If I tell him that Kael just showed up during the attack, it will sound suspicious. Actually, it might be more than suspicious.

“I’m told that he was instrumental in fending off the Syvaku. Is this true?”

“Yes,” Dacien replied quickly. “I’ve never seen such a warrior. He was a tremendous help. In fact, it was he who first suspected an invasion. I sent him inland to find proof of his theory, and he returned with that proof.” Dacien immediately thought of Caius, fatally wounded during the excursion.

“Yes, of course. And he returned without his escort.”

“That’s right,” Dacien admitted with a frown. His own fears were being echoed by the Emperor. It’s almost as if he’s reading my thoughts! How could I have been so gullible?

“Does this all sound as devious to you as it does to me?” the Emperor asked.

“Well…” Dacien started, then trailed off. The others in the room looked betrayed and Dacien started to realize the gravity of his mistake in trusting Kael. But how could it be? His story…it all sounded so honest.

“General Dacien, I suspect that this man is a professional. Such cowards can infiltrate even the very elite of governments. Let me ask you this, how well did you think you knew him?”

“Completely. He told me his entire life story. How he grew up in Bastul as the son of Colonel Adair Lorus and his wife Maeryn.”

At this, the Emperor’s eyebrows raised slightly.

“His father went missing and the position of Colonel was assigned to another man who was cruel. Colonel Lemus had Kael thrown in jail for coming to the aid of a friend and attacking the Colonel. Before he was executed for his crimes, he was taken away to another prison in the north. Then a mysterious man purchased him from the jailor and took him to a faraway monastery where he spent the rest of his childhood studying the arts of war.”

“Let me stop you there,” the Emperor said, holding up his hand. Looking around the room at the others, he spoke calmly. “This is obviously a made up story. After our initial conversation, I checked the census records and confirmed that such people existed in Bastul. But the jail records show one Kael Lorus being executed and even include details of when and where the body was disposed of. No, I suspect that your friend assumed the identity of an Orudan citizen in order to gain your confidence.”

Dacien protested. “But he went to war with us. And the gods will attest that he chased the Syvak warlord into the forest and brought the man back in two pieces!”

The Emperor nodded with a smirk on his face. “Yes, in order to gain access to the inner workings of the most powerful Empire on the face of the earth. Even to kill your own in exchange for the Emperor of the Orudan Empire and two of his Commanders. It seems a fair trade and a brilliant move.”

Dacien paused, considering the implications. “You think he was the assassin?”

“You said yourself that he left his post at the northern wall to go to the Palace. And he demanded entrance while the fires at the western wing provided a convenient distraction. Were you ever able to find the guard that supposedly accompanied him through the Palace?”

“No,” Dacien replied, his confidence lost. “He apparently disappeared shortly after.”

General Soren leaned forward in his chair. “Of course he did; it seems obvious to me.”

Dacien slid off his chair and knelt on the ground. “Your Majesty. I see now the error of my judgment and I plead for your forgiveness. I didn’t mean to endanger the lives of the Orudan leadership. And now I feel that their blood is on my hands.”

“No Dacien. Their blood is on the hands of the assassin who seeks to undermine the strength of this Empire. And we will not let that happen.”

Dacien looked to the floor in shame.

The Emperor rose from his chair and pulled Dacien to his feet, looking straight into his eyes. “I’m a good judge of character. And I can see that there was no malice in you intentions or actions. I have also had the privilege of going to war with you and I believe that you are more than worthy of the position of General. That is why I need you. The Empire cannot afford any more turmoil.”

Dacien took a deep breath and straightened his stance.

The Emperor put his hand on Dacien’s shoulder. “This coward, this assassin still sees you as a tool to be used for his purposes. No doubt he will try to contact you and offer an explanation for his behavior. We can turn this to our advantage and use it to lure him back where we will be waiting.”

Dacien nodded, then stopped after some thought. “…that could be extremely dangerous.”

“What do you mean?” asked Commander Horace, now on his feet as well.

Dacien turned to the man. “I’ve never seen his equal in combat. It is as if the gods themselves drive his actions.”

Soren, still seated, replied calmly. “You just bring him here, and we’ll do the rest.”

* * * *

After escorting Dacien out of the room, Magnus turned back to his pupils.

“…son of Maeryn Lorus?” Soren asked.

“Yes,” Magnus replied. “That does complicate things. I never questioned Ukiru about any of your lives prior to your redemption. Well, there is still much that she can do for me with the Resistance. Coen can use her help. She commands a great deal of respect among the slaves and her presence is critical to controlling them.”

Commander Arden sat back down in his chair. “Can we trust Dacien?”

Magnus smiled. “I have read his mind and his distrust of Kael goes deep, though his feelings of friendship are genuine. He can be manipulated for our purposes. Besides, with all of you in your positions, we don’t have anyone left who is loyal to our cause. Dacien will do just fine.”

Chapter 24

The flicker of candlelight reflected off Saba’s face. The bright blue eyes were just as Kael remembered. But it had been twenty years since he last saw his old teacher, and Saba had been an old man then.

“How is it possible that I’m staring into the face of a man who could be my father, when you were once old enough to be my grandfather?”

Saba smiled as he sat back into his chair. “How is it that I’m staring into the face of a child that was executed twenty years ago?” After a quick sip of wine, Saba cleared his throat. “There are many things that I must tell you, but that story will have to wait. There are more pressing matters at hand.”

“Oh?” Kael replied.

Saba nodded. “…such as the state of this Empire and the ones who have taken control of it.”

“Tell me what you know, and I will do the same,” Kael responded.

“Very well,” Saba said, downing the last of his wine before leaning forward in his chair. “Many years ago, while we still lived in Bastul, one of your father’s friends was found along the western shore, a few miles north of the city. He was badly wounded and it appeared as though his merchant ship had been attacked. He was taken to the temple in Bastul to be cared for where he eventually died. But before his death, his nurse removed an arrowhead from his leg, bearing a symbol upon its broken shaft. Your father gave it to me to research and find some connection between the symbol and his friend’s suspicious death.”

“Shortly thereafter, your father disappeared. And the local council appointed Lemus to be his replacement. You are, of course, familiar with this part. But after you were sent to jail, Lemus forced me to leave. I stayed in the city for a while and found that your father was able to determine the approximate location of his friend’s attack. And I also found out that he and a small crew took a ship from the Bastul navy and went to search the far side of the reef for an explanation. This is when he disappeared.”

Kael put his hand over his mouth, starting to put the pieces together.

“After being caught and released, my investigation took me to Orud,” Saba explained with outstretched hands, indicating the place they were now in. “In the great libraries, I researched the symbol, but to no avail. Then one evening while walking through these city streets, I was ambushed and captured by many cloaked men. They put a cover over my head and put me into a wagon. I was taken north to a mountainous area where a confinement camp had been constructed. There I was held captive for many years. It wasn’t until after my escape that I learned that these men were members of an ancient cult known as the Kaliel.”

Kael wanted to interrupt, but he held his tongue and let Saba finish his story.

“The Kaliel worship an ancient and powerful demon god named Rameel, who has been imprisoned for thousands of years. They are seeking to free him. And during my capture I met their High Priest, who acts as a surrogate for this demon. Its spirit can only have contact with this world through the use of this surrogate, who is in and of himself a powerful force. And tonight, I saw this man for the second time in my life. He addressed the crowd as the new Emperor.”

Kael took this as his cue. “I know. I used to be a member, though I didn’t know them by that name. And they called him the All Powerful.”

Saba’s eyebrows shot upward as he lifted his head.

“Let me explain,” Kael said quickly. “After my imprisonment in Bastul, I was taken by ship to another prison in the north. I spent a few days there with other boys my age until a man by the name of Ukiru paid the jailor to release us. Ukiru took us to an island monastery in the north. We were educated and trained in combat. All the while, they told us that we would be instruments of the All Powerful to reclaim this world that abandoned him. Finally, after we all reached the age of eighteen, Ukiru took us on a long journey to the High Temple to meet the High Priest. It was to be a coming of age ceremony where the High Priest would officially introduce us to the All Powerful. We were supposed to open ourselves up to him so that he could reside in us and speak to us. We were told to yield to his presence in our lives so that he could work through us and make us powerful. But I didn’t. I resisted.”

Saba smiled with satisfaction.

“It was during this ceremony that I met the All Powerful and I fought against him. I…” Kael struggled for the words. “I cannot describe to you the overwhelming presence of evil that I felt. Not even with Lemus did I feel such a thing. It is indescribable.” Kael paused as his voice faltered. When he resumed, his voice was shaky. “As soon as we got back to the monastery, I escaped.”

Saba nodded. “The High Temple where you met the All Powerful, it was off the coast of Bastul, wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t realize it at the time, but yes. And the monastery is north of here on an island near the city of Suppard.”

“Kael, these people had something to do with your father’s disappearance.”

“I know. And what’s more, the Emperor’s Generals and Commanders were my fellow students.”

Saba looked to the ceiling, then rose from his chair to get more wine. Bringing the bottle back to the chair, he poured more for Kael, as well.

“I killed one of them in Leoran.”

Saba tilted his head and waited for the explanation.

“After I escaped, I spent many years traveling the world. I eventually made my way back to Bastul just in time to see it sacked by the Syvaku. I traveled north to Leoran with my friend Dacien who was Captain of the Guard at the time. I’m leaving out many of the details, but the point is that the Syvaku attacked Leoran and I was part of the battle. That’s when I killed their leader who, as it turns out, was Narian, one of the boys that I grew up with.”

Saba shook his head as he began to realize the depth of their treachery.

“It gets worse,” he admitted. “The Southern General had been killed in an earlier skirmish, so Dacien was appointed to the position of General.”

…strong as an ox!

A memory of a conversation with Dacien came to Kael’s mind, interrupting his story. Immediately, he realized another piece of the puzzle.

It was Jorn. Jorn was killed by accident and Dacien took his place!

“What is it?” Saba asked.

“I just realized something that I hadn’t noticed before. The Southern General who was killed in an earlier battle was also someone I grew up with.” Kael gulped some wine and continued. “Anyway, we were summoned here to Orud to meet with the Emperor. But during the meetings, a messenger warned of an approaching Korgan army. Dacien and the other Generals left to confront the barbarians, while I was stationed at the northern wall. Near midnight the Palace was attacked in secret and the western wing was set on fire. I suspected that this was only a distraction and got into the Palace just in time to find the Emperor and his Commanders murdered. I followed the trail of the assassin and caught up with him on the roof. He escaped and I didn’t get to see his face, but I’m positive that it was Ukiru.”

Saba shook his head in silence and took a minute to ponder what Kael had said. When he found the words, he spoke. “They used this war to gain control of Orud.”

“That’s right,” Kael replied. “A competent soldier can rise through the ranks quickly in times of conflict. Narian led the Syvaku, and I have no doubt that the Korgan are led by one of them, as well.”

Saba stared off to the side as he spoke. “Tell me again the names of the nine.”

“Narian I just spoke of. He was tall and strong, but had a good heart.” Kael began to remember his childhood friends and relayed more than Saba had asked for. His emotions were clouded, mixed with anger of betrayal and also fond memories of friendship.

“Jorn was a stout child, not just fat. He was built like an ox and incredibly strong. He was the Southern General, but was accidentally killed in a battle with the Syvaku. That’s how Dacien came to the position of General.

Then there is Berit, the Northern General. He didn’t like people and spent all his time in the library. We used to tease him, carrying him out of the library by force, to make him go with us on short excursions.”

The Southern Naval Commander is Horace. He was a cocky child who excelled in our combat training, but struggled with our classroom studies.

Arden is the Northern Naval Commander. He was just a bit older than the rest of us and mature for his age. He always had a different perspective and could be stubborn. But he had a good sense of humor.

And then there’s Soren. He’s the General of the Eastern Territory. He was my closest friend. He had seen many difficult times in his childhood and grew up without parents. He was well acquainted with violence and was the toughest of all the kids. He was the shortest, but we were all afraid to disagree with him out of fear. In spite of this, he loved to laugh and kept us all in good spirits most of the time. He was my competition. In combat as well as the classroom, he was excellent at everything he did. We were always neck and neck except for leadership. This is where he surpassed me. He was a natural leader and I couldn’t ever beat him in competitions that required managing others.”

Kael trailed off, lost in thought.

“That’s six; what of the other three?” Saba asked.

“Rainer was the youngest. He wasn’t really good at anything except arguing with Ukiru and knowing how to manipulate people.

Coen was nice… really talkative. He was good with classroom studies, but struggled in combat.

And the last is Donagh. He was just as big as Narian, but a bit thinner. He too excelled in combat due to his size and strength. But he was selfish and got into fights with most of us at one time or another. Except for Soren, that is.”

Saba nodded his head, taking mental account of each individual. “So you haven’t seen these other three?”

“That’s right. I don’t know what role they are playing, but you can be assured that they all have some part in this.”

Saba leaned to the side and looked out the window. “It is almost dawn.”

Kael turned around to see the sky lightening to the east. “Dacien is in danger. He doesn’t understand what is going on around him.

“Yes. When the sun comes up, I will go into the city and talk to some people, ask some questions. I want to know the rest of the Emperor’s plan and how well it was received. I’ll also find out where Dacien is.”

Kael nodded, then yawned.

“Why don’t you get some rest; it’s been a long night.”

“Thanks,” Kael replied, leaning back in his chair. “Saba?”

“Yes.”

“It’s good to see you again.”

The old man smiled. “…and you, as well.”

Chapter 25

Kael jerked awake, startled by an unknown sound. He lay still, ears probing the silence for an explanation. But all was silent in Saba’s house. Must have been a dream. The bright sun was beaming in through the windows and Kael judged it to be roughly noon. He rose from his chair and stretched, then walked outside and stood on the sand, staring at the ocean. Seagulls passed by overhead, riding the same soft breeze that caused the long blades of nearby grass to bow to the north.

Kael breathed in the salty air and considered his conversation with Saba. But his mind was still cluttered with a mixture of emotions. Out of habit, he sat down on the sand, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes. During his time at the monastery, there were many times of confusion and anger. And the only thing that helped was to sit above the cliffs and allow the ebb and flow of the ocean and wind drive the confusion from his mind.

With his eyes closed, his mind sought information from the sounds about him. As he had trained himself to do, he quieted his thoughts, forcing his mind to reach out with his other sense, the one he’d never told anyone about. It seemed elusive at first, but gradually, the familiar sensation returned.

He could feel the grass sway, the tiny spiraling currents of wind as they passed by. He focused his sense and pushed it out from him to feel the water at the shore. In this way, he explored his surroundings and, almost immediately, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He was at peace again and his emotions began to sort themselves out. He wasn’t sure how long it took, but eventually, he began to see things clearly.

The sting of betrayal and the guilt of being associated with these people began to rise to the surface. He felt as though he was responsible for them and their actions. They are powerful and dangerous! Someone’s got to stop them!

But how could Kael ever hope to stop them. He had always found combat to be easy, until Narian. During that fight, he almost lost. And Narian wasn’t the best in the group. But I did stop him. He’s no longer a factor in this situation.

Slowly, Kael’s fear receded, and in its place was a resolution that something had to be done. He would probably be killed, but there was no one else who could even stand a chance against these people. They had trained their whole lives for this mission, and they would succeed otherwise. I trained with them. I can’t let them succeed.

The sun was beginning to slip behind the western horizon when Kael caught sight of a small vessel heading straight for the house. Within minutes, he could see that it was Saba’s ship with a strange dark object aboard. Kael waited patiently at the water’s edge and eventually made sense of what he was seeing. Ajani stood at the bow, holding the reins of Kael’s horse. Kael smiled and waved to his friend.

As the sky continued to darken, the small boat came to a stop in the sand. Kael waded out to help lower the cargo ramp and un-board his horse.

“Do you have it?” Kael asked quietly.

Ajani slung two large bags over his shoulders and winked, indicating the presence of the sword.

“Thank you,” Kael whispered. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt the need to keep it a secret. He didn’t yet understand what it was, and so didn’t want to talk about it with anyone. Luckily, Ajani rarely spoke.

When Saba neared, they led the horse down the ramp and through the shallow water, draping the reins over the branch of a shade tree near the house.

Saba cooked a simple meal. After they ate, they sat on the porch looking at the firelight from the city reflecting off the rippled ocean.

“He’s freed the slaves and given them the same status as the rest of the working class.” Saba said, relaying what information he had gathered during his excursion into the city. “You’re a free man now,” he said, nudging Ajani.

The scarred man smiled indifferently.

“He hasn’t been a slave since I found him in Leoran,” Kael corrected.

“Of course,” Saba offered, apologetically. “It has really caused unrest in the city. But most of the citizens agree with him. Only the ones who stand to lose profits have put up an argument. Normally, this would be a good thing. But I have to wonder why he did it, and how it helps his cause. Clearly, it wasn’t out of pure intentions.”

“He’s building an army,” Kael answered. “The Syvaku, the Korgs, the Kaliel, the Orud armies and navy, and now the entire slave population of the Empire are under his control.

They all considered these words for several moments, with nothing but the sounds of lapping water in the background. Finally, Saba broke the silence.

“Kael. There’s one thing I haven’t mentioned.”

“…only one thing?” Kael questioned, knowing that Saba had many secrets.

“…one thing in particular. Your mother was at the feast.”

Kael turned to look at Saba, a look of shock on his face. “How is that possible? Dacien said she disappeared from Bastul when the Syvaku attacked. He thought she was kidnapped.”

“I don’t know, but she was at Magnus’ side for portions of the evening. Dacien didn’t seem to notice.”

“He was Captain of the Guard in Bastul; but it’s possible that he never met her,” Kael offered, then went silent. After a minute, he spoke again. “So the High Priest, his name is Magnus?”

“Magnus Calidon,” Saba clarified. “Does it make you feel different toward him, knowing his name?”

“No,” Kael answered flatly.

A seagull screeched as it flew overhead, heading for the water. It offered a momentary distraction as they watched it land a few yards out, ripples of water extending outward from its chosen landing site.

“The Generals and Commanders are staying at the Palace tonight, along with the Emperor. And Maeryn seems to be an honored guest of Magnus’, so I would not be surprised if she was staying at the Palace as well. But there is much activity among the ranks of the Orud soldiers. It appears that they are preparing to leave.”

“Saba…” Kael said, turning to look at the old man in the eyes. “They have to be stopped.”

“I know. I am trying to figure out how to get an audience with the Council, without Magnus attending.”

“No,” corrected Kael. “There is no time for talking. I have to act, before their plans are finalized. Whatever they’re doing, we can’t afford for them to get prepared.”

“What do you propose we do?” Saba questioned.

“I’m going into the city at midnight. I need to borrow your boat.”

“Nonsense. I’ll take you myself. What are you going to do?”

“Dacien and my mother can’t stay where they are; their lives are in danger.”

“Kael,” Saba protested. “You said yourself that these men are extremely dangerous. After you escaped, what did they do? While you were traveling the world, they were continuing their training, preparing for what they are doing at this very moment. How can you hope to do anything about it? I say we tell the Council about Magnus’ secret dealings. With your testimony, they would surely bring him to trial.”

“And then what?” Kael replied. “Magnus is gifted with speech. He could convince them of anything. It wouldn’t work.”

“And what is your plan?”

Kael rose to his feet and looked down on his friends sitting in the porch. “They planned every last detail, but they didn’t account for me. As much as I hate to say it, I’m one of them. And I’m the only one that can stop them.”

* * * *

Saba’s boat cut silently through the water, pushed by a stiff breeze. Kael stood at the prow, staring into the distance. He was dressed in a style that Saba had never seen before. The pants were black, loose fitting above the knee for ease of movement, but snug around the calf so as not to get caught on anything. The tunic, if it could be called such, covered his entire upper body, as well as his arms. The same strategy had been applied to this piece of clothing as well, fitting loosely around the shoulders, but tight on the forearms. The back of Kael’s hands were also covered by a flap of material and held into place with a loop around the middle finger, such that when he made a fist, his light skin disappeared, leaving only a shadow of dark fabric in the shape of a man. Gone were the sandals of traditional Orud style. In their place, were dark boots of the same black fabric, covering all the skin of his feet. The soles were soft leather which produced hardly any sound when Kael moved across the deck of the ship.

The only thing that could be seen clearly, without straining the eyes, was Kael’s head. His hair was gathered at the back and fluttered in the breeze. Kael’s hands were free of weapons, holding only a small bundle of fabric that Saba assumed was intended to cover his head.

Ahead and to the port side, a small abandoned dock extended out into the bay. Saba guided the boat toward it. Six miles outside the city limits was a long way, but Kael didn’t seem to mind.

Saba concentrated on his approach to the dock while his peripheral vision noted Kael’s blonde head disappear into the darkness. A quick glance confirmed that he had pulled a black hood over his head. Saba turned the sails, and they went slack, the boat coasting toward the dock.

“Will you not be armed,” Saba spoke into the night air, mindful of the way sound carries over water.

“Men will fall. Weapons will abound,” came the reply from the shadow at the prow.

Saba turned his attention back to the approaching dock. He adjusted the position of the rudder, bringing them aside the tip of the dock. When he looked back, Kael was already on the dock, halfway to the shore. Saba hadn’t even seen him move.

Kael turned around, only his eyes showing through a horizontal slit in his hood. “Thank you for everything,” he said quietly, then disappeared into the darkness.

Chapter 26

The Palace guard had been doubled due to the strange events over the past few days. Spearmen circled the base of the wall surrounding the Palace, with a detachment moving one direction nearest the wall while a second detachment moved in the opposite direction farther away from the wall. Their pacing was timed such that there was always visual coverage of the entire guarded wall at all times. Archers followed a similar routine along the top of the wall. This was in addition to the guards stationed in hidden places throughout the surrounding fields and trees, keeping watch over the various approaches to the Palace.

Even with the increased security, they failed to notice the shadow that moved silently among them. The darkness of the night couldn’t be illuminated properly by the torches scattered throughout the Palace gardens. And through the darkness, Kael moved with stealth and speed.

One particular guard, on his route around the base of the wall, thought he heard something behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed nothing. He looked back to the wall and stopped walking, letting his ears probe the night, but to no avail. After a few seconds, he resumed his march, walking past the base of the guard tower that jutted sharply inward to connect with the wall, resulting in a shadow cast by the torchlight only a few yards back. And only a few yards ahead, another guard approached, boredom showing on his face.

* * * *

Kael held himself close to the stone, fingers jammed into the crevices, holding his body in the shadow between the guard tower and the wall, ten feet off the ground. He counted to twenty in his head then began to scale the wall as the second guard passed beyond the tower underneath him.

He paused just before the top of the wall, waiting to hear the changing of the guard, which occurred every twenty minutes. His fingers began to shake, struggling to maintain their grip on the stone. After three minutes of holding still, footsteps sounded above, followed by muffled speech. Kael waited another minute, then cocked his head to the side and eased upward to peer over the edge. The new guard was facing his direction, but looking downward as he readjusted his scabbard on his belt.

Kael swung silently over the wall and landed in front of the man. By the time the guard looked up, his vision was already blurry, caused by the pressure against the side of his throat that restricted the blood flow to his brain. Kael held tight as the man lost consciousness. That’ll buy me twenty minutes before they realize I’m here!

Kael eased the guard to the ground and propped him against the wall, arranging his cloak to appear as if the man had fallen asleep. If he was lucky, he might get another couple minutes out of the charade.

…fifty one, fifty two, fifty three.

Kael eased open the door that separated the guard house from the walkway along the top of the wall. As expected, the archer had just passed. Kael slipped out of the door, across the walkway, and descended the stone staircase that led down to the Palace courtyard.

Once inside the Palace wall, Kael moved more quickly, but still conscious of the occasional archer passing overhead. He swung around the outside of the Palace itself, until he arrived underneath the windows of the guest quarters. Hiding in the shadows, he waited until the passing of another guard, then scaled a vine that ran up the left side of the window. At the third floor, Kael pulled himself over the balcony and dropped to the floor, just inside the room where he hoped Dacien was still staying.

Approaching quietly, he found Dacien asleep on his bed. Kael pulled off his hood and leaned close to hear his friend’s steady breathing. Putting his hand over Dacien’s mouth, he whispered into his ear.

“Dacien, it’s Kael.”

Dacien flinched and looked scared for a moment, then recognition came.

“Your life is in great danger and I need to get you out of here. Stay quiet.” Slowly, Kael released his hand and Dacien sat up. “I’ll explain everything later, but right now I need you to trust me. I only have about ten minutes before the guards discover that I’m here.”

Dacien stared blankly, as Kael continued to whisper.

“Where is the Emperor’s mistress? Is she staying with Magnus?”

“Uh…I don’t think so. Though she’s in a room close to his. Why?”

“She’s my mother, and I’ve got to get her out of here as well.”

Dacien eyebrows raised. “Let me get dressed and I’ll take you to her.”

Kael searched the room for weapons while Dacien pulled a tunic over his neck.

“Kael, where have you been? And what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later, just hurry,” he replied, finding a short spear next to Dacien’s armor. Turning back to his friend, he handed him his sword and belt. “We might need this to get out.”

Dacien accepted it and quickly fastened the belt around his waist. Within seconds, they were walking briskly through the quiet halls of the Palace, Dacien leading and Kael following. Moving away from the guest quarters, Dacien led them closer to the heart of the Palace. Kael kept his eyes alert, looking for signs of trouble.

“This way,” Dacien whispered, ducking down a narrow, unlit hall.

“Isn’t the Emperor’s room this way?” Kael pointed.

“…only if you want a big reception.”

“Alright,” he whispered, waving his hands for Dacien to move quickly as he followed.

A few more twists and turns brought them to a thick wooden door, which Dacien hurriedly pulled open. “After you.”

Kael rushed inside and found a large room, brightly lit, with maps along the wall. In the center of the room was a raised pedestal with a map of the city upon it. It was the war room of Orud. And leaning over opposites sides of the map, were Arden and Horace.

Kael strafed to the right, covering Dacien with an extended spear. His body immediately tensed up as it had the other evening, upon seeing his old acquaintances. It was an unusual feeling for him.

Horace straightened up and looked over to Kael with a smile on his face.

A grinding clank sounded behind Kael as the door was bolted shut. Kael spun around to see Dacien standing in a defense posture and backing away to the left.

“I’m sorry Kael,” was all he said. The look on his face made it clear that he had mixed emotions about what he’d just done.

“Good work Dacien,” said Arden, as he moved away from the pedestal, circling to the right.

{…el…ael…K…Kael’s…he…her…here…}

The sound moved through Kael’s head with a reverberating echo; each syllable seemed out of sync, on a separate timing until the sounds collided into each other with vague meaning.

Kael could see the glazed look in Horace’s eyes and realized that he was calling out to the others, sending an inaudible message to his brothers. His ability to communicate mentally was not nearly as developed as Magnus’ had been during the banquet, but it was still effective.

* * * *

A hundred yards away lying on his bed, Magnus’ eyes popped open, his sleep disturbed by the sound in his head. He rose quickly and dressed, grabbing his cloak and slinging it over his shoulders.

A knock sounded at his door, which promptly opened. Soren stepped through.

“Did you hear that?” he asked his master.

“Yes, I’m going to take care of it.” Suddenly, Magnus could feel the frustration emanating from Soren. “You want to kill him,” he stated.

It wasn’t a question, but Soren replied anyway. “Yes.”

“I need you to go get Maeryn and take her away from here. I know your passion and what you shared with Kael as children, but our mission is too critical to take any chances. He’s already caused major setbacks.”

“Yes, my lord,” Soren replied obediently.

“He will try to get to her. Make sure she is safe.”

“Yes, my lord.”

* * * *

Kael held his spear in his right hand, the butt tucked underneath his arm.

Arden moved to the right, unsheathing a long sword as Horace moved left to take a spear off the wall.

Kael stood the same height as Horace, while Arden was only a hand shorter. They were both muscular and moved light on their feet. Ukiru had trained them well.

Kael ran for Horace.

Arden moved to close the gap.

Horace’s spear jutted out for Kael’s midsection.

Kael moved inside the range of the spear tip and deflected the shaft with his forearm. Advancing quickly, he slashed over Horace’s spear, using the bladed tip as a sword which cut through the meat of the man’s upper left arm. Continuing the motion, he brought the spear around to his back to catch Arden’s sword on its way to cleaving Kael in two.

The spear cracked in the collision and Kael dropped it as he moved past Horace and out from the conflict. Pulling two short swords from their crossed position on the wall, Kael spun around in time to meet Arden’ forceful attack.

Arden lashed out with a flurry of strikes, ending in loud clangs as Kael fended them off methodically.

Then Kael saw an opening in Arden’s attack. Deflecting a jab, Kael countered with a left-handed strike, catching Arden across the chest.

Arden’s eyes went wide as he realized the sharp pain in his chest. Kael followed quickly with an over handed cut to the neck, severing Arden’s collarbone and burying the blade in his chest.

Blood sprayed like a fountain from the fresh wound, covering Kael’s face. For a moment, his vision was impaired. Instinctively, Kael pulled the blade free of the corpse and dropped to the ground, rolling to the left of Arden’s body as a spear flew overhead and stuck into the wall.

Rolling to his feet, Kael ran to his left and kicked open the door opposite of where he entered the room. As he ducked through the doorway, he caught a glimpse of Horace pulling an axe and shield from the wall, as Dacien stared in horror at Arden’s body.

The exit led Kael into a large atrium with a fountain in the center; a statue of a partially-clothed woman pouring water from a vase into the shallow pool. The wall of the war room was the only solid structure as the ceiling and two other walls were latticed wood with vines filling in the spaces. Opposite the war room, the atrium opened into a courtyard with darkness beyond.

…an escape!

The thought only crossed his mind briefly, but Kael turned to face the doorway he’d just come through, waiting for Horace. He didn’t come here to run. He came to face his past and he wasn’t about to leave until his own mission was accomplished.

Horace came through the doorway with an odd arrangement of weapons. His shield was rectangular and curved in the fashion of the long spearmen that typically held the front lines of Orud armies. But in his left hand, he held a single-bladed axe, tipped with a sharpened point for jabbing.

Kael slung the blood from his blades and held them outward, stepping forward to meet Horace.

Just as he did when they were children, Horace approached without hesitation. He held his shield tight and swung his axe toward Kael.

Kael strafed right and left, parrying the attacks, following with a few slashes which glanced harmlessly off of Horace’s shield.

Horace continued to advance, jabbing sharply at Kael’s chest.

With a double slash, Kael blocked the axe with the left sword and chopped the shaft with the right. Horace’s axe head fell with a clang to the floor. Dropping his swords, Kael lunged forward and grabbed the top edge of the shield with both hands, jerking it away from Horace. The leather straps broke and sent Kael floundering to the floor.

Horace advanced immediately with a kick to Kael’s head.

Deflecting the foot with the inside of the shield, Kael followed with a sweeping kick to Horace’s leg. Horace stood his ground, barely affected by Kael’s attack.

With one giant step forward, Horace rammed his powerful leg into Kael’s ribs, lifting him off the ground and sending him a few feet backward.

The air flew from Kael’s lungs as he sprawled on the floor, struggling to regain his footing.

Horace stood still with a crazed smile on his face. He had always been a formidable foe in hand combat. His legs were strong and fast and knew he had Kael outmatched. After watching his enemy beg for breath, he rushed forward to end struggle.

Kael, his head down toward the ground, saw Horace from behind lowered eyelids. As predicted, the man rushed in, confident in the speed and power of his ranged kicks. As Horace neared with a front kick aimed to the head, Kael glided sideways. The kick missed his face by inches. At full extension, Horace’s supporting leg was vulnerable. Kael drove his heel into the man’s kneecap and felt the crunch of bone as the leg bent the wrong direction.

Horace’s arms flailed outward as he sought balance, his momentum now working against him. He folded under his own weight and collapsed to his knees with an anguished shriek.

Kael threw his whole body behind the punch and crushed the man’s windpipe, sending him backward to the ground.

Horace’s face cringed with panic as he realized that death was imminent.

Kael rose to his feet and glared down at his enemy, watching as Horace’s grip on life slipped slowly away. Kael breathed deeply and released a sigh.

After a moment of silence, He turned around and looked to the fountain, his mind not yet ready to process what his next move would be. He was vaguely aware that he still hadn’t made contact with his mother yet. But his rigid body was still in combat mode. Then he caught a presence out of the corner of his eye.

Dacien stood in the doorway leading into the war room, a grave look on his face.

Before Kael was even able to identify the emotion that he felt, an overwhelming presence of evil was followed immediately by a suffocating feeling in the air around his body. He looked quickly to his left and saw a dark silhouette coming into the atrium from outside. As soon as Magnus’ name came to Kael’s mind, he felt an immense pressure on his lungs and the brief sensation of floating before being hurled through the air.

Kael’s body crashed into the stone wall of the war room, held four feet from the ground, pinned into place by an unseen force.

Magnus stepped into the light with his hand outstretched in Kael’s direction.

The pressure on Kael’s lungs increased to the point of strangulation, causing him to panic. But something else was beginning to happen as well. That familiar feeling of awareness, of broadened sensation covered Kael as well. Kael closed his eyes and began to feel the tangible extension of Magnus’ power as it stretched through the air and held Kael into place.

Kael focused his own awareness on what was happening inside his body. As his lungs started to collapse, Kael pushed back, expanding the soft tissue until they began to work again. Air quickly returned and Kael felt a moment of peace.

{…interesting!}

{I see that you have powers as well.}

{Then I shall have to find a more creative way to make you suffer.}

The voice of Magnus was strong inside Kael’s head, much different than Horace’s earlier warning call. Suddenly, Kael’s awareness vanished in a flash of sensation, like the loss of vision after looking into the sun. All the texture and detail vanished as if the whole world, air, water, earth, had been melded into one object.

Kael’s brain screamed in agony as the pressure moved to his head. With the last shred of strength that remained, Kael focused inside his own head, seeking the location of Magnus’ attack. Navigation was difficult without a sense of the surroundings, but by feel, Kael followed Magnus’ intrusion.

Focusing all his efforts, Kael resisted, trying to fend off the attack, as helpless as a farmer who attempts to block the hail from destroying his crops. The area was too great, and Kael’s powers too limited. And all he could hope to do was delay the inevitable.

Then, Magnus’ presence disappeared. Kael’s awareness instantly expanded to fill the void. From some distant place, he thought he felt his body fall and hit the ground, but he seemed to be disconnected from his physical self. His consciousness was all that remained.

* * * *

Ajani rushed across the paved floor of the atrium. He could see Kael pinned against the wall with his hands around his throat, as if he were being choked to death. But Ajani couldn’t let that happen. He remembered Lemus’ blood-splattered face on that fateful morning, so long ago, and the vision of Kael rushing in with a pitchfork.

Ajani planted his left foot and threw the spear, putting the momentum of his entire body into the shaft of the weapon as it left his hand.

It cut through the air and punctured Magnus’ stomach, knocking him backward several steps.

Kael’s body dropped to the floor, limp.

Ajani ran toward the injured man who was gripping the spear with both hands and watching the blood from the entry and exit wounds in his abdomen. Just before he reached him, Magnus lifted his hand.

Ajani ran into an invisible wall and came to an abrupt stop. He felt an intense anger come over him just before his bones began to break, crushed from the inside out. In this instant, Ajani felt an all-encompassing feeling of peace. He knew that his life debt to Kael had been paid. And he looked to the sky and prayed that the gods would receive him.

* * * *

Saba stepped into the atrium and summed up the situation at a glance. He saw Ajani’s body fall to the floor and could feel that his spirit had already left the body. Kael was on the floor against the wall to the right, alive but unconscious. General Dacien cowered in the doorway; the fear coming from him was tangible. And at the center of Saba’s vision, was Magnus, kneeling in a pool of his own blood, and trying to regain his footing. A dark presence surrounded the man and Saba knew that he was still a threat.

Lifting his hands, Saba contained Magnus’ powers and thrust him backwards until he tripped over the low stone wall and fell into the fountain. A visible blue light accompanied the act that made Dacien cower even more.

With one hand extended toward Magnus, Saba knelt down to Ajani.

The scarred slave’s body lacked the form that it should have, as if his bones had been shattered from the inside. But his face had a look of peace and Saba smiled, knowing that Ajani didn’t go into the afterlife by accident. It was an intentional act on behalf of his childhood friend.

Saba reached down with his right hand and closed Ajani’s eyes.

Looking up to Dacien, he made eye contact. “Get Kael out of here,” he commanded. “He’s still alive.”

Dacien looked behind him at the war room, contemplating an escape.

“He came here to rescue you,” Saba shouted, bringing the man back to his senses. “…now pick him up and get him out of here. I’ll be right behind you.”

Dacien snapped into action, lifting Kael’s body off the floor and draping it over his shoulders. His legs shook under the weight of Kael’s limp body, but within seconds he was moving past Saba and out of the atrium.

Saba released his hold on Magnus and left with Dacien.

* * * *

The waters of the fountain swirled dark with Magnus’ blood. He rose, water and blood dripping from his body. The spear that protruded from both sides of his abdomen broke into two pieces, flying in opposite directions away from him. He stepped out onto the stone floor of the atrium with a look of determined revenge on his face.

My lord is coming, and he will have no mercy on his enemies!

The Awakened: Book Three is available now for download at http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/52668. Or, visit http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/44641 to get books One through Three in a single edition.

About the Author

Jason Tesar lives with his wife and two children in Colorado. He works in the microelectronics industry improving and developing processes, and writing technical documentation for integrated circuits manufacturing. In his personal time, he enjoys graphic design, playing guitar, reading books, watching movies, and doing anything outdoors with his family. The Awakened is his first fictional writing. To learn more about Jason, The Awakened, and future writing projects, check out his blog at http://www.jasontesar.com

Figure 1: The City of Orud

Figure 2: The Northern Territory

Figure 3: The Southern Territory

Figure 4: The Island of Tur'cen

Figure 5: The High Temple-Profile View

Figure 6: The High Temple-Plan View

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26