Reisch didn’t look up from the fire, but he was listening. He said into the flames, “And Rhen saved your life from that exact thinking. You are the same as your enemy.” Rhen looked away, finding sudden interest in adding some sticks to the fire.
“I am not the same as a Khasari.” Volkyr stood up, taking this insult to heart. Reisch didn’t look at him, instead continuing to stare into the fire. He began to sing, his voice full of despair:
“Oh, I am a true son of the North
With bow in hand I tame these lands
But woe, what did war bring forth?
I am a true son of the North
I took up arms for what I lost
And with our army I marched forth
Kiern joined in, singing in unison.
I am a true son of the North
Oh vengeance, I’ve had my heart’s fill
With tears my wife called my name forth
Oh, I am a true son of the North
Yet mine own I shall not meet
For I was a true son of the North”
Arjen’s Vengenace. A poem from the days of the Great War.
“You know what it means, Volkyr,” said Nymessa.
“Of course I do,” he said, “but I am still a son of Euphyre! I will suffer the scorn of Yelia if it frees my country, cursed and damned my soul may be.”
Kiern saw the slightest of smiles on Nymessa’s face. He wasn’t Euparyen, but a tingle still went up his spine. Commander Reisch, however, was not as amused.
“That Khasari was you. Just as he did, you could not see him as a man, but only as the uniform he wore. Such will be the undoing of man.”
“How can you judge me so harshly? He is an enemy soldier in a time of war. That man chose to be a Khasari. That is his choice to make. He knows the consequences of signing up. Have your qualm with war itself, not with the soldiers caught up in it.”
“I have had my qualm with war itself, I have yelled and screamed, yet it does not respond. So, I must make reason with the tools instead.” The words would have cut through armour. “Still, I shall not question your cause, nor the soldiers who fight for it. I will judge you no more.”
Reisch had said that, but Kiern had known him long enough to know that he had said what he wanted to say, and what he said would eat away at them. They would fight it for a time, but they would come to understand his view on the matter. Perhaps opinions were made of air.
It was getting late, but Kiern despite his exhaustion wasn’t feeling sleep would come any time soon, so he offered to take first watch. Come midday tomorrow, they would find themselves in Mayswood.
And so they did, even beating the midday sun. Volkyr’s remaining horse proved to be a boon, carrying most of their belongings as well as Nymessa. Mayswood was larger than Verni, despite it being tucked away deep in the woods. Khasari perched themselves high up in their wooden watch towers and patrolled the streets in bands of no less than ten at a time, ever wary of their enemy who they knew all too well. With most of its townsfolk bearing the tattoos of the rebellion, their caution was not unwarranted. Civilian or soldiers depending on the situation, all it would take was a spark and the town would find itself changing owners again.
Volkyr and Nymessa knew people in Mayswood and requested the Elsgard meet them. Of course, after their recent encounter with the Khasari who had disregarded their oaths, they needed to tread carefully. There was no way to know if all Khasari shared the view of the Khasari from Rulven. On top of that was Nymessa’s injury; it would be obvious to anyone how she got it, and the fact she was alive meant that her opponent was not. Kiern hoped the Khasari oaths held if they were spotted by a patrol.
There were many taverns in Mayswood, each with their own style and presumably, history. Nymessa led them to one situated closer to the centre of the town, called the Oaken Vine. Clever name.
It was larger than most taverns in towns the size of Mayswood, and it had an equally larger number of clientele. A barracks would have been more accurate.
Nymessa directed them upstairs to a private room, being assisted by Volkyr and the Commander. Two stern looking Sons let them through the door they were guarding and closed it after the last had entered. A meal of chicken and vegetables was being laid out by a young maid who reminded him of… well, he hadn’t thought about her for a long time. It didn’t matter. There were more important issues at hand.
Including Nymessa and Volkyr, there were five Sons in total. Three new faces. Two men and a woman. All of them looked they had been in the business for decades. The woman bade them sit.
“Welcome, friends. I hear you saved Nymessa and Volkyr from a patrol. Our thanks. If there’s anything we can do for you, name it.”
“The decision to save these two was the decision of Rhen here, Karzarki born, alone.” Reisch purposefully chose his words.
“A Karzarki who sees eye to eye with us? How unusual!”
Rhen looked as though he was going to clarify his position on the matter, so Kiern gave him a stern kick under the table. There was a time and a place, and neither were now. “The man has morals,” Kiern said, instead choosing to speak on Rhen’s behalf.
“It’s a shame more of his kind don’t,” said Volkyr, more comfortable now surrounded by his comrades.
“It’s a shame more of all of us don’t,” the Commander said, baring his teeth uncharacteristically, staring at Volkyr, unflinching.
Tension filled the room, and Kiern momentarily forgot how to breathe. Volkyr didn’t break eye contact with the Commander, but his face showed a lack of conviction in actions past. Their leader picked up on this, first looking to Volkyr, then to the Commander. She knew something had happened between the two, but it seemed she was content to let it remain a private affair.
“Enough. Where are the Elsgard heading? I don’t need to tell you that any extra sword arms would be useful anywhere.”
Commander Reisch looked to Kiern. “Where are we headed?”
This was a test. It was clear he couldn’t tell them the real answer; that would lead to questions and complications that they did not need. But he also knew his own weakness of disguising lies. When in doubt, it was best to go with a stretch of the truth.
“Ulane. We’re meeting up with the others there.”
“Ah, that would explain the few Elsgard that are here today.” Kiern nodded in agreement.
“Though, each year the Elsgard’s numbers dwindle, don’t they Reisch?” The woman’s voice contained neither joy nor sadness, just a statement of affairs.
“You know our story, Anneth.”
“Yes, yes, I’m not playing games to mock you. I know exactly why you do what you do. Yelia knows we could all do with a bit more hindsight. Volkyr too, if I haven’t entirely misread the atmosphere in this room.” Commander Reisch just raised his eyebrows and exhaled deeply.
“You forget you’ve got years of wisdom on your side, living with your mistakes, making amends, Reisch. Volkyr here has yet to come to terms with his mistake. I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure it was not insignificant if the Elsgard Commander himself scolded him for it.”
Reisch ignored her analysis. “It is not something I wish upon a man, making amends.”
This conversation was veering into new territory, that Kiern had not seen before.
“Well, that is why we pray to Yelia, isn’t it? Forgiveness. But let’s move on. The reason I brought up the Elsgard is because I’d like to inform you that three hundred Yalean archers joined the Sons recently, having come by ship. They have been sent south to assist in the defence of the Yukonian Alliance at Lera. The large deployment of Khasari that you’ve no doubt heard about is en route to Lera as we speak.”
Reisch nearly jumped out of his seat. “Three hundred? How’s that possible? Has the Council finally…?”
“No. There is no declaration, no backbone. We were told to say they were deserters, who felt the need to fight for their Goddess in her time of need. Point is, the Council is not goi
ng to declare open war on Karzark. But no doubt the Elsgard’s actions over the years has helped their decision. And Yelia knows we need them.”
“Where did they disembark? Lera is a long way from Yalea.” That was true. The last Kiern had heard was that Jakkenmarch and Theran’s Lake were still Karzarki held, albeit under siege. Karzark did not have a fleet to speak of along the eastern coast to relieve them. The distance alone required them to resupply somewhere, which was a risk-laden necessity at best. But even if the Yaleans made port and resupplied on the island, that was still hardly even south of the border…
“I don’t have that information. If you want answers, then continue to Ulane. Apparently, Captain Arys Tullis is leading a large force of the Sons to take Rulven. Yelia knows what he’s thinking. Lera needs him. If it falls…so shall we.”
The Commander seemed intrigued by this. “To Rulven? The seat of Karzarki power east of the Desari? That Citadel was built to withstand any army. A small force of Sons will not make the Khasari blink twice…That man needs to be brought to heel. How far away is he? Is he coming through Mayswood?”
“I don’t know. But do you think he’d march down a highway? He might, Commander. In any case, you better stay here a few nights. Some Sons might arrive with some answers. Now go, speak to the tavern master. He’ll provide you lot with a room. I have private matters that need attending to.”
Kiern felt the need to include himself. “You have our thanks.”
The woman scoffed.
-------------------------------------
Levi
After several nights out in the wilderness, a small, homely bastion of sedentary civilisation loomed in the distance. A few houses, a farm, a small shrine and a small earthen wall that was much higher once upon a time. It reminded her of home.
“What is that place called?” she asked her Pack.
“Does a place this size even have a name?” Black Wyke asked jokingly but, not entirely. She doubted its presence would grace a map.
“Shall we find out? While we are at it, we can see if they have something soft to sleep on. Half my aches are from sleeping on the ground.”
Seline did look like she hadn’t slept properly in days. She hardly complained, but Levi knew she needed a break.
“Alright, it’s getting dark anyway. Do you think the Khasari bothered to put up a garrison?”
Black Wyke laughed. “If they did, do you really think they’d outnumber us? It looks more like a campfire that people forgot to leave.”
Levi didn’t appreciate the scale of her own home being called an overgrown campfire, but she let it go. They were her Pack, but they hadn’t undergone the conditioning. Thankfully for them. In their own insubordinate way, it helped her find her own.
They slowly entered the village, not wanting to scare the residents, or, if there were Khasari around, appear to be any more threatening than they already looked.
They dismounted and tied the horses to a wooden pole that seemed to be close to what might have served as a stable once. There wasn’t a tavern. She decided to go to the shrine first and find someone to ask about lodging.
She knocked on the door, but there was no reply. There was no lock, however, so she slowly opened the door whilst saying, “Hello?”
It was dark, but she could hear the whimpering. As her eyes adjusted to the room, she saw several villagers huddled in the corner, cowering before them.
“Please, please don’t hurt us. We have nothing left to give. We haven’t anything else, please. Don’t kill us, we beg you,” a middle-aged woman sobbed.
A torrent of sadness enveloped Levi. It just occurred to her that three mounted soldiers had entered their town, with axes, great swords, black armour and bows. They looked like raiders. Pillagers. Once, she had been on the wrong end of a raid, and it terrified her. This is what was happening to these villagers, and it wasn’t the first time.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Shh, listen. We aren’t here to hurt you, nobody is going to hurt you. Come, get up, it’s okay. Black Wyke, help them up, get them out of this box.” She pulled them up and passed them along to Seline and Black Wyke.
Once they were all outside, she got a good look at them. She realised everywhere in the world had its poor people. They were destitute.
“We are just looking for a place to stay the night. That is all. We will pay you good coin for your troubles.”
An old lady stepped forward. “Coin won’t do us any good with brigands about. You may as well just hand it to them when they return.”
“Do you know when they will return?” In her own experience, brigands would give a deadline to maximise the chances of having their demands met.
“Tonight. That is why we hid in the shrine. Yelia is the only one that can protect us from what fate has dealt us.”
If they came tonight, it suited them perfectly. They needed to stay somewhere anyway; it wasn’t like they would lose time in hunting down Reilek.
“Then, let us take care of them, and in return we only ask for a bed, even hay.”
“There are more of them than there are of you.” The woman’s voice didn’t have so much as an inkling of hope.
“You don’t know who we are or what we can do. Let us help you.”
A young boy in the small crowd stepped forward. “Aunty, I do know that one,” he said as he pointed to Wyke, “That’s the Black Wyke.”
“Not the Black Wyke, just Black Wyke,” he corrected, “I’m honoured I have such noble fans this far west.”
“I’ve heard lots of stories about you. Everyone knows you. When the Sons visit, they tell stories of your victories. They say you killed ten Khasari all by yourself!”
“Twelve Khasari.” Seline was about to correct him on the ‘by yourself’ part, but he nudged her aside. “Honoured to be at your service, sir.” He smiled at the boy.
His aunty looked at them once more. “If it’s true that you fight like a dragon, then maybe there is hope. Please then, help us rid ourselves of these cursed bandits.”
Levi was proud of herself. For so long, she felt nothing. She just did what she was ordered. Helping these people felt good, they made her feel herself once more.
“Aunty, hide our horses. We’ll prepare a welcome party for them.”
The sun set towards Taer’lyn, the last of its rays disappearing behind the mountains. She had sharpened her axe courtesy of a whetstone provided by one of the villagers. Seline had taken up her position in the field of overgrown grass, lying down out of sight. They would pass her by upon entering the town. Black Wyke lent on the door of the small house next to the stable, his armour making him one with the night.
“The tales from the battle with the Yaleans had it that you wielded an axe so great that you could have cleaved the head off a horse. Reality is often disappointing, though. It would have been a sight to behold,” Black Wyke said, looking over his shoulder at her before returning to scanning the paths into the village.
“I think…the slain care little about how they die.”
“You’re right. Unless war is human nature and our death makes us what we are in the afterlife. I’ve never known a world at peace. Maybe there’s some truth in that, being in our nature.”
Levi found the tone and inflection difficult to read, and so took his answer to be serious. She thought she’d test how far her our assisted language learning had come. So she replied, “In war, fathers bury sons. If war was our natural state, people would not have the chance to exist. Our cycle could not be sustained.”
Black Wyke pondered for a long second. “It’s almost sad to think then, that it isn’t. If it isn’t, we are pretty bad at being us. Is true peace truly attainable, or does it run so opposed to our nature that it can never be more than idealistic rallying call? If war was human nature, it would be easy to blame Yelia. It could have been more simple.” He walked out into the stable, carrying his great sword by his side and melted into the darkness. Levi wondered what his like had been like until now.
She didn’t wonder for long as she still had things to do in front of her. She took off her Rulven coat, feeling much freer in her leather armour.
Levi closed her eyes. She reached out for Ghiris. Normally she would look into his mind without him noticing, but she did not have time right now to play. She asked if there was any news, but there was none. They hadn’t seen him in Rulven or the nearby towns, but Farrel had cleverly informed Karzuk of his status as the leader of the Desari Sons, and they were on high alert, eager to capture a high-ranking rebel. Being labelled as such meant that he was liable for previous raids and ambushes which removed the invisible chains of Heran – something that Reilek had taught them before he abandoned them. Before he fled. North-west, Ghiris concluded. It was the safest passage for him to avoid capture. That was good. He was injured, and he would need to stop somewhere, lest his wound fester. If it was his own arrow that pierced him, it would not make for a nice recovery. Fortunately, the north-west of Euphyria was a sparsely populated region, which narrowed down his options. She thanked Ghiris with a provocative kiss on the cheek, then withdrew herself from his mind. She knew it made him crazy that he could not yet initiate a connection.
They remained in their positions for about an hour when finally some silhouettes emerged and came into view over the fields. She counted twelve, with two on horses. Their armaments were an assorted mix of different colours and styles. Vultures. Fortunately, however, it meant that they were not a trained military force, and would fall for their trap.
The two with horses dismounted and tied them up at the same pole Levi had done earlier. They were close to Black Wyke, but he remained hidden. Seline was a good distance away from them now, but still well within bow range.
“Come out, come out, your time is up. Give us yer gold and we’ll be on our way.”
Silence. They moved further into the village, peering into the windows of the first house. The two horsemen started walking to the run-down stable and would soon find Black Wyke.
Reign of Phyre Page 22
