Empire's Edge (Path of Light Book 2)

by N. A. Oberheide

  “Well the parties here for you, Rahlson.” The doorman spoke seldom, and always used full names as was his belief in the old way of things.

  Rahlo knew this was serious though, the doorman never spoke directly to anyone otherwise. The door creaked open, and a half dozen men walked in. Rahlo recognized them from the castle, some of them bearing fresh scars on their faces.

  “Boys…glad you made it. I was afraid I’d never see any of y’all again.”

  “Yeah, well some didn’t hardly make it a few days out there! God damn bears, cougars, snakes and Gods know what else got ‘em!” A younger, scrawny Regulator with shaggy blond hair cried as he took his hat off.

  “We will have our revenge boys, just you wait. For now, stock up. Our quarry is heavily armed now and has company. At least two others were last seen with him. Come on now, what are y’all waitin’ for?”

  At that insistence the frustrated and vengeful Regulators stocked up as much as their horses could carry. It was past midday by the time they were done, but that hardly mattered as they saddled up and made a gallop out of town.

  “So, boss man, where they at anyway?” One of the Regulators piped up after they settled down the pace outside the town limits.

  “They sure haven’t been down this way, else the frontier scouts would’ve reported back surely. I don’t think they’re dumb enough to come back the way they came either. They seem organized, well trained. Somehow tracked us all the way out there and…”

  Rahlo trailed off, realized his spiel was quickly becoming demoralizing and far past the scope of the question it answered.

  “Anyway, were headin’ up to Asherton and beyond if need be. I hope you boys are ready for a long ass trip!”

  The Regulators all cried out in a cacophony of blatant approval and the burning desire to make up for the shame they suffered. The day wore on in discussions that were just as elaborate as they were elementary, discussing the best approach to apprehending a small and well-armed group. One of the more heated discussions was the implication of greater reward bringing them back alive instead of dead. Perhaps a promotion, a raise, or even a general recognition by the public at large that they were ultimately a force for good, and not a heavy-handed paramilitary working under shadowy leadership. Few who took up this job realized what they were in for, but few left even well after learning as the pay and autonomy were intoxicating to the adventurous who wished to see the land outside their hometowns.

  Rahlo whittled the hours away on a pipe and swigging out of a wine skin, occasionally interjecting his opinion onto his younger and more naïve compatriots. They all respected him, they had to. Nobody was promoted but through merit alone, and Rahlo fought tooth and nail to become Big Boss’s right-hand man. The Regulators were hardly more than a few years old now yet wielded tremendous power under the auspices of the president and his desire for a more unified state.

  “Well boys, let’s say the reward is a big, fat stack of cash. What’re y’all gonna do with it?” Rahlo asked, knowing it was a good way to gauge motivations.

  “I’m gonna buy a farm!”

  “I’ll probably get some horses for my ol’ lady!”

  “I’mma get a still and make me some shine!”

  “I uh…well I’ll be getting some, ah…”

  The simple things in life. Young, dumb, and have no idea what the implications of all this are. I’ll learn them, perhaps the hard way. Rahlo smiled and talked to himself inside his own mind, half occupied with the thought of a comfortable position at the president’s side. The other half was more concerned with the present at hand and figuring out a way to keep himself out of harm’s way as the ambush at the train was far too close for comfort. He winced at the memory of bullets just whizzing inches away from him, fired by a man who looked just as ugly as he did calm and collected. The confident and brazen daylight attack was unlike most highwaymen and two-bit thieves who prefer ambushes from the shadows.

  Rahlo shook the thoughts off as he tapped out his pipe and lowered his brim to shield against the setting sun ahead. It was time to set up camp for the night.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “Anything else come to you last night?”

  “No.”

  “Your little friend is disappointing me. Either it’s a great joke or Fortune herself pulling our strings now. We have no where else to go so let’s get to it.”

  The bland breakfast of boiled oats and berries foraged from around the woods didn’t help distract anyone from their shared plight. There was little time to lament the lack of a kitchen or the money to spend on lavish meals, there was packing to be done and yet another day of travel to be had. The only redeeming qualities of chasing the sun down was the lack of need for a map and compass. Even if they had those, there was no real telling who would be friendly and who would turn them in. The ins and outs of the locals and their politics was alien to them, and better avoided off the beaten path.

  The convenience of having a river that happened to weave and wind along in the general direction of the sunset was not unappreciated, especially by the horses who didn’t seem to mind the muddy waters. Trevin scanned all around them and behind them vigilantly as ever, never affording himself the peace of mind that Naurus seemed to have for reasons unknown. There was something oddly comforting to him in the finality that soon, or hopefully soon, this would all come to an end and the sea would show itself. And hopefully, the figure that haunted his dreams would finally show itself and help in whatever cryptic way that had been offered up.

  Gully seemed to enjoy playing the harmonica he looted. He also seemed to think his company enjoyed it, but soon realized the groans, moans, and even laughs from his captive audience were not compliments. It certainly helped pass the time, but not nearly the same as a musician with some actual skill would have.

  “Is there any instrument you can play, Gull?”

  “Well…I’ve had a few lessons on the lute!”

  “I’m sure it would sound beautiful. It’s too bad we don’t have one.”

  “Yeah it’s too bad. Maybe I’ll find one and get to break it over yer head!”

  “Save your energy for the road ahead. Remember, were not exactly welcome company in these lands. We’re probably being pursued as we speak.”

  “Yeah, by who? Some pissed off tree huggin’ slant ears?”

  “No, not at all. Actually—”

  “The Regulators, that’s who.” Naurus cut in, drawing a curious look from Gully.

  “And who be they?”

  “They…definitely aren’t acting under color of law. I’m not sure how to describe them, but they seem to have the blessing of the government to act as they see fit.”

  “Which government?”

  “The Triple Confederacy! They’re all in cahoots and have some sort of binding treaty that supposed to unite them in a war…presumably against us.”

  Gully spat, then darted his eyes about lost in thought.

  “So what do we care about some two-bit renegades playing soldier? They ain’t chasin’ us out here!”

  “Gull, my friend, you speak of that which you know absolutely nothing about.” Trevin started. “That’s a dangerous assumption. They are well equipped, armed to the teeth, and have some sort of organizational network. Most of the guys back at that castle were young. This isn’t some old guard were dealing with. It’s a fairly new paramilitary of some sorts, I wouldn’t guess more than a few years old. Perhaps an intelligence network as well.”

  “Yeah well, fuck ‘em.”

  “Your eloquence is second to none, Gull.”

  “What happened, Rooster? You used to be so cocky and now yer scared of some kids with some fancy toys?”

  Trevin looked over and slowed down to be neck-and-neck with Gully.

  “It’s not me that Im scared about. It’s my kid, you fucking moron. Do you not realize we just now got him back and now we need to figure out how the fuck to get home?”

  “Well I hope he’s right about where were
heading then…”

  “You got a better idea? You gonna teleport us? Read a scroll and open a dimensional door perhaps? Rub your magic lamp and—”

  “Oh fuck off! I ain’t got a better plan.”

  “Yeah that’s what I thought. Were old men now, but this is the last hurrah for us. At least I hope.”

  “I’m sorry, dad.”

  Trevin turned the other way with a look of confusion.

  “What for?”

  “For getting you into all this. It’s my fault.”

  “It’s not your fault. You can’t see the future. Even the best mediums can’t. They may get some things right, but the last one that was around before they were outlawed was run over by a cart that broke loose. Talk about a quack!”

  Naurus smiled but could hardly muster a chuckle.

  “Yeah but I mean I didn’t think I would get her killed and—”

  “Get who killed?”

  “Morra.”

  “Look, son, you can’t blame yourself for something like that. She ultimately made the decision to bring you out here, and she paid the ultimate price. It happens, and that’s the kind of sacrifice that our Kingdom was built on.”

  “I don’t think I like doing this kind of stuff.”

  Gully snorted but was quickly silenced with a sharp gesture from Trevin.

  “It’s not for everyone my boy. Everybody wants to be an operative until it’s time to do operative shit. The high speed, low drag life just wasn’t for you it seems, but that’s fine. Means less chance of dying in a stupid and unnecessary way such as Morra.”

  Naurus bristled but didn’t respond, looking away to hide the tinge of pain he felt thinking about her final moments and how he should have done everything differently. The rumination was distracting if nothing else, but certainly depressed him to think of all the more positive outcomes that could have been. The sun was setting, and there was no sea to be had.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “See somethin’?”

  “Yeah…just barely. Just a little bit of smoke over the ridge there, see it?”

  Binoculars in hand, he squinted to try to find the spot.

  “Nope…can’t see shit. My eyes ain’t as good as yours, so I’ll trust ya.”

  “Aye boss. We rollin’ out?”

  “You bet.”

  Rahlo handed the binoculars back to Hawk, none too bright a guy but had eyes that could spot things no one else could see. It was a quality to be envied, but otherwise unassuming, everyday guys were aggressively recruited to fill in those shortcomings as needed. He hoped he had made the right decision bringing these guys along as he saddled up and jabbed his heels into his mount. He was secretly excited as the prospect of redeeming himself so soon, hoping that he wouldn’t lose his marks in the thick of the wilderness.

  They trotted, cantered, and galloped whenever they could to close the distance to where the smoke was spotted. Arriving there, all they found was a smoldering pile of ash and plenty of foot and hoof prints. They dismounted to comb around for a few minutes.

  “Found one of their cat holes, boss! Someone was here a while!”

  Rahlo nodded over in acknowledgment but really didn’t care much about finding shit filled holes. What he took a keen interest to be the different boot prints around the campsite, the holes where tent pegs had been, the bits of trash like cans and bottles strewn about. He picked up one of the bottles, immediately recognizing it as dwarven mead. This wasn’t something you could just buy anywhere. In fact, only dwarves imbibed it and closely guarded its recipe. The realization struck him that it must have been looted from the train wreckage. He stuck his hands in his mouth and whistled shrilly.

  “Regulators! Mount up!”

  With haste they were back in the saddles and following Rahlo’s lead. The trail of hoof prints and trampled vegetation was an easy one to follow. The trail led to a shallow river, which was easily forded but the other bank was thick with pebbles and scree. The trail became not so clear, yet eventually they found a bridge which led to a fork in the road when crossed. The dirt was well rutted and tramped down, leaving nothing obvious to go on. Rahlo had to pause and think, but not like himself. As if he was Naurus. Where would I go, lost and aimless in a place like this…where would I go? Where would I think would get me back home? He came by sea…he must leave by sea.

  With that, they took the left fork and continued at a trot, trying to make up for lost time. Rahlo was not all that familiar with this area either but knew the other fork lead back from the direction they came, away from the sea. The sun began to set, blazing down directly into their eyes. They tilted their brims down over their eyes and trudged on, chasing the sun into its eternal hiding place at worlds end.

  As evening lost its battle against dusk, they noticed a tall, wooden palisade of sharpened stakes as they rounded a bend in the road. A barbican loomed over the gates to this walled town. Rahlo realized he had never been here before, and never knew this town was here. They certainly weren’t going to be able to exercise the authority they were usually afforded as with the domains closer to headquarters. They crossed the thresholds of the gates, drawing the scrutinizing eyes of the town guardsmen who were lazily leaning on their muskets and repeating crossbows.

  After riding through some time, they noticed another gate on the far side of the town. They saw it just in time to see the guards closing it up for the night.

  “Well boys, this looks like our home for the night. Must have a curfew or somethin’. Come on, lets go find a place to set camp.”

  The only replies were grunts of disapproval. The boys are hungry, they wanna eat. They want their glory, but we can’t be picking fights with an entire town…that ain’t the mission. They passed by an inn, judging by the crowd visible through the windows it was hardly worth checking for a vacancy and the row of horses hitched up outside confirmed that. Some of the horses were laden down with tackle, and Rahlo was particularly caught off guard by a mare that looked awfully familiar. He shook it off though, shoving it to the back of his mind with how many horses look alike.

  They came to an empty lot behind some sort of large, brick warehouse and decided that was as good as it was going to get. They pitched their camp and they pilfered some firewood from nearby stockpiles to get their fire going. They ate, they drank, they made merry but Rahlo was still being eaten up inside. Something just felt off, as if his gut instinct was fighting with his more rational thoughts. The beer they drank only loosened his inhibitions further and opened himself up to even more internal debate about what to do. It was an issue that yet more beer failed to solve.

  “Hey boss, what is this place anyway?”

  Rahlo snapped out of his haze. “Uh…I ain’t sure. Don’t worry about it, we’ll be off in the morn.”

  The rest of the gang went back to their inane chatter and gossiping. He was only about a decade older than them but felt distinctly disconnected from them socially. Rahlo started formulating a plan in his head, something solo, something very quiet that didn’t need to involve anyone else. He knew he wouldn’t feel better until the gnawing feeling in his gut went away. There was only one way to do this, though. He had to act. Indeed, he would act tonight. Just by himself, as it were. He needed not answer to anyone but himself.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “Why is it so damn crowded in here?”

  “I don’t know, but this is getting ridiculous.”

  The crowd seemed to be shoulder to shoulder, wall to wall, and the stuffy air was oppressive.

  “EVERYTHING YOU EAT, I EAT! EVERYWHERE YOU GO, I GO!”

  The booming voice rose above the din yet sounded oddly familiar. Naurus craned his neck and quickly found the source. The same bald, ebony pugilist that he had seen fighting some weeks ago was also here now. He was sitting at a small table across from a pale and impressive looking athlete who was apparently trying to enjoy some drink and food. The ebony pugilist grabbed a bowl of bread from the other man and started in it with zeal.

&n
bsp; “THANK YOU CHAMP! THIS IS DELICIOIUS CHAMP!

  “Would you like some water?” The other man proffered in a much more subdued tone.

  “YES CHAMP! THANK YOU FOR THE WATER—”

  The ebony pugilist was interrupted by the dumping of the water onto his head. His muscled arms swung over the table, sweeping the bowls and goblets onto the floor as the chair clattered from behind him. Before either of them could get away from the table, the burly barkeep and some patrons got between them and the crowd seemed to have no problem making room for the troublemakers to be thrown out into the street.

  “QUIT FIGHTING BUMS! I’M THE CHAMP, YOU THE CHUMP!”

  The booming voice finally trailed off into the distance, and the barkeep returned to his normal duties with everyone now able to converse in a normal volume. The thought of having to wade through this crowd and get to the bar was an unpleasant thought.

  “Hey pops! Let’s just go outside and walk around. This isn’t gonna work, there’s nowhere to even sit!”

  With a nod of approval, he led the trio back outside and took a deep, long breath of fresh air. They grabbed their canteens off their horses and drank up the last bit they had.

  “Let’s go find the well, screw that place.”

  That wasn’t hard to find given they passed it on the way in. The night was still young and Naurus grew restless, pacing about and fidgeting.

  “Somethin’ on yer mind, kid?” Gully was the first to notice the anxiety, surprisingly enough.

  “No…well kinda. I’m bored.”

  “We do have some time to kill.” Trevin started. “I’m not tired at all. What say we try to teach you some tricks like your old man knows, eh?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well surely, you’ve noticed I can do a few things here that I couldn’t do at home, right?”

  “Yeah, but what’s that have to do with me?”

  “You’re my son, dummy! That means there’s a good chance I can teach you a few things with magick now that I somehow got most of my mana back.”

  “I don’t think I even have mana…”

  “What a load of shit, of course you do! It’s in every living thing! The important part is how you use it. Magick is fed from this energy, and I have a feeling you can do magick too.”