“I see it Sebastian. Be wary. Is there any way that Gerlach Pwyll could have tracked you back home?”
“No…maybe. I don’t see how.” Sebastian spurred Tonio to a gallop. Whether Pwyll had somehow tracked him home or there was a simple fire, his family might need him. Behind him, Adelwolf urged his horse to match the pony’s pace.
Emerging from the forest, the source of the smoke was clear. The stone walls that made up the perimeter of the homestead lay in ruins, having been pulled over in at least three places. The roof of the spare quarters that housed the farm-hands was reduced to a skeletal frame of burnt timbers. The main house had collapsed in on itself and a few small fires continued to burn in the rubble. Beyond the homestead itself, the fields had been fired and were in the process of burning themselves out. Sebastian slowed his horse to a halt about halfway from the tree line, tears streaming down his face. Sword drawn, Adelwolf surged past him into the middle of the devastation. It took him only a few moments for him to determine that those who had assaulted the farm had not left anyone behind in ambush. Pushing forward from where he had drawn Tonio to a stop, Sebastian unsheathed his own sword and urged Tonio to a gallop, hoping for some kind of enemy to fight.
“Sebastian, stay there!” Adelwolf commanded. “Let me take stock of this first.”
Heedless of the warning, Sebastian rushed into the house, now a smoking ruin. A few moments later he came stumbling back out, a yellow bundle in his arms. He cleared the threshold and fell to his knees laying the bundle gently on the ground in front of him.
Sebastian stared down at the small, broken body for a long moment, his frame quivering with silent sobs. Bernice wore her favorite yellow frock, the very one she had been wearing two days prior. There would be no more dancing in the glades, his butterfly’s gentle wings had been crushed. His gaze drifted upward and locked with Adelwolf’s. Venom in his voice, he uttered one word. “Pwyll.” Adelwolf nodded grimly. “I’m going to kill him. I swear it on her soul and on my own.”
“Be careful Sebastian...”
“I SWEAR IT! He will die for what he has done here this day. No matter if I must follow him across the western sea. No matter if I die to see it done. I WILL see him dead at my feet. I swear vengeance!”
“So be it then. Though it may be your doom.”
The two spent the better part of the afternoon raising five cairns from the ruins of the farmhouse. Four to mark the final resting place of his aunt, uncle, and their two farm-hands and one small pile of rock for his little cousin. Each stone Sebastian placed on the piles was a hammer blow to his heart. The world around him grew dim and dark. There was nothing to hold him here now. He would go with the Greybeard. But he would not go to retrieve some magic rock. He was going to find revenge.
It was almost dusk by the time Sebastian and Adelwolf completed their grim work. Through silent agreement they remounted their horses to continue on their way to Aldmoor. Neither felt any desire to stay the night amid the ruins of the farm and the five fresh graves. Adelwolf set a path several miles from the main road, fearing that Gerlach Pwyll might have stationed a watch on the road. By way of the road, the journey took about five days but it would take at least twice that going through the wilderness.
#
Sebastian and Quiren had just disappeared into the wood as two black horses emerged from the shadows, red cloaked riders swaying in their saddles. The valley holding the remains of the Headley farmstead grew preternaturally still as the two Krenon Hunters made their way down to the the still smoldering remains. Pausing next to the five fresh graves, they shared a look from beneath their hoods and continued on with their inspection.
“It is him,” said Kazik.
“Agreed. But, again, such power. You must see that the Ban is weakening.”
“It should not be possible, yet you are right. Brother Lugus, if the Ban is failing as you suspect, our task becomes all the more important.” Lugus nodded his head in agreement and scanned the rubble, seeking answers to his many questions in the growing darkness. There were none to be had and he turned back to his horse, preparing to mount up. He put one foot in the stirrup as a chill settled down his spine. The valley may have been still before, but now even death was a bright celebration compared to the utter stillness that settled upon them as they turned toward the treeline.
More than a mere shadow, the figure that glided toward them seemed to be made of non-light. A non-light that drew in the dim illumination of the stars and the moon and consumed them both. Their elder Brother had arrived at last.
He…it made it’s own inspection of the farmstead while they waited, heads bowed. While there were many Brothers with considerable might in the Krenon, there were but a handful who possessed such power as this one. Lugus and Kazik had pursued Gerlach Pwyll for many years, and this was the first time a Brother of this rank had been dispatched. Someone thought they were close to their prey at last.
The Brother glided toward them. “You may call me Nereus,” he said in a guttural voice. “What is your report?”
“Gerlach Pwyll has left the confines of Cinaeth and roams the countryside,” began Kazik. “He was chasing someone, a woman. We believe he captured the woman not far from here down by the riverside. We tracked him from there to the village of Taleros and then to this farmstead.”
“That is all? I was summoned from preparations for the siege of the Dazhberg because of one dark mage that you seemingly have not even laid eyes on. I have heard of you two and your obsession with Pwyll.”
Lugus stepped forward, “There is more…”
Nereus’s head whipped toward him, “There had better be or this will be your last Hunt. Your last anything.”
It got even colder. Lugus pushed down his terror as he gathered his thoughts. He needed to be quick. “Feel the power that was used here. I have not felt such release in all my hunting. It should not be possible. It is as if he has found a way to circumvent the Ban. And what was so important about this place that he would risk so much? They are but farmers and certainly could pose no threat to Gerlach Pwyll and his plans.”
Nereus turned from them back to the rubble. Lugus held his breath, hoping that it would be enough of an argument to convince him to continue the hunt and save their lives. Nereus spun back around, “Perhaps you are not as incompetent as I was led to believe. Gerlach Pwyll grows bold. The Ban cannot have weakened to this degree. Pwyll must have found a way to circumvent the strictures. He does not have the Siothrun with him, so there must be another explanation.”
“That is not all,” said Kazik. “There is another mystery here. Consider the graves, just there.”
“What of them?” Nereus waved a hand in dismissal. “A relative or neighbor must have seen the smoke.”
“We do not believe so,” Kazik continued. “We encountered a residue at the riverside. This place stinks of the same. It is another Defier, although they have not yet manifested.”
“Then we will deal with them also if the time comes,” said Nereus.
Kazik raised a hand as if to grab Nereus’s sleeve, “But consider that none of us noticed the residue at first. It is cloaked and there is only one way that could be.”
Nereus nodded, “If the one you sense is somehow related to Gerlach Pwyll. It would be grave indeed if that bloodline were allowed to continue. You have done well to bring me. Mount up. We ride for Aldmoor tonight.”
#
Sebastian and Quiren Adelwolf traveled as long as the light lasted that first night, wanting to put distance between themselves and the haunting memories of the afternoon. Unwilling to give themselves away to Gerlach Pwyll or his men with a fire, they made a cold camp. Settling in for the night, Adelwolf leaned his back against a large, moss-covered stone and sipped from his personal stash of spirits while he considered the letter from Krystelle Mora. Sebastian busied himself rubbing down the horses.
Losing himself in the rhythm of the work, he tried not to think about all that had happened, but he was unable
to banish the vision of Bernice’s bruised and broken face from his thoughts. When he finally finished, Sebastian spread his bedroll out on the far side of the small clearing they chose for the night’s encampment. He laid there long into the night playing out scenarios in his head, each more gruesome than the next. In one, he slit Pwyll’s throat with a sword. In other, he ran him down with a giant warhorse. In yet another, he smashed Pwyll’s head with an axe. And on and on and on.
Beginning the next day, Adelwolf set a brisk, but manageable pace to preserve the horses. They started out with the sun, took an extended break at mid-day, and continued into the evening. He was always careful to stop before it got too dark for the horses to make their way safely through the forest. While they rested the horses at mid-day, Adelwolf continued instructing Sebastian in his sword work. It was a pattern that would repeat itself day after day as they made their way to Aldmoor. Sebastian poured every ounce of himself into the daily lessons, the thought of revenge ever present in his mind. His hatred for Pwyll gave him focus, and Adelwolf often marked how quickly Sebastian’s skill was advancing.
A day outside of Aldmoor, Adelwolf led them back onto the main road. “We’re coming into the city and I don’t want to call unwarranted attention to us as we approach the gates. Gerlach Pwyll’s men will likely be watching for you. I do not think he will be expecting me to be with you, so we’ll have a measure of safety entering the city together.”
“I still don’t understand why we hide. Surely the city guard is loyal to the king. We should take the evidence Krystelle Mora sent you and denounce him to the guard.”
“I’ll not repeat this argument again, Sebastian. What is to say that the guard is not already in Pwyll’s camp? We must have the full strength of the Council behind us before we bring our challenge, otherwise we could find ourselves at the end of a gibbet. You are a newcomer to my world and you will find that in it things are not always what they seem. Be alert and grow strong because only a warrior of great strength and cunning will be able to fulfill the vow you have made. You know these things and you cannot allow your anger and desire for vengeance to compromise our greater mission.”
Sebastian fell silent, fuming at the impotence of not being able to act. His body quivered with rage, demanding that he strike out at his tormentor. Gerlach Pwyll was a ghost and a rumor to him rather than a physical presence he could defeat.
On the last morning of their journey, they took extra care to prepare themselves. Rather than two men who spent a fortnight traveling cross-country, they had to be sure to look the part of knight and squire who had spent half that time on the road, with its way-stations and relatively easy riding.
Coming over the last hill, Aldmoor finally came into sight. The King’s road ran directly through the center of the city, creating a main thoroughfare bisecting the town. Farmers, merchants, and caravans set up their tents and shelters where the road intersected the city wall on either side, creating two bustling commerce hubs outside the city gates. Inside the wall, the city was arranged in a series of concentric circle roads with spokes leading out from a central green. From their vantage point on the hill, the city looked almost like an enormous water wheel laid upon its side.
East of the city stood the keep atop a plateau rising high over the valley. The structure seemed designed to intimidate, its faceless stone walls rising high into the air. A hawk flying overhead looking down would see the perimeter of the fortress was an almost perfect square, with an open bailey in the center. The outer curtain wall was about ten feet thick and a pathway circled the entire length, broken only by four rounded towers, one at each corner. Catapults stood ready on the open tops of each of the towers and a berm had been raised at the edge of the plateau overlooking the city.
Closer inspection would reveal a different story. Moss grew between the stones up and down the northern side, wedging its way in and weakening the integrity of the fortress. Ropes that should be used to arm the artillery atop the four towers were rotting away, and the bailey itself was overgrown with weeds. It had been many years since King Ercanbald had stationed a garrison in Aldmoor, leaving the city watch and town elders to their own devices. They paid lip service in their homage to the king, but their oaths of fealty were held ever so loosely.
Bypassing the abandoned keep, the two adventurers made their way down the hill and through the sprawling marketplace to join the short line of wagons, riders, and others waiting for permission to enter the city. The heavily armed city watch guarded the clerks assigned to record the names of each entrant, assessing each person and paying special attention to merchant guards entering armed.
“Step forward and state your name and business in Aldmoor,” snapped the clerk at Adelwolf as they dismounted at the front of the queue.
“Sir Quiren Adelwolf, Swordmaster General of Gabirel and his squire seeking lodging for the night.” Adelwolf gave his true name, gambling that his rank as Swordmaster General and titular membership of the Gabirelean High Council would smooth their way.
Scribbling their names in his ledger, the clerk did not even glance up at the two as he recited the customary welcome, “You are enjoined to keep the King’s Peace by order of His Excellency, King Ercanbald and commit no nuisance while in our city.” Thinking of the way Gerlach Pwyll had slaughtered his family, Sebastian, unable to control himself, grimaced and snorted in disgust, drawing the attention of the muscular guard standing behind the clerk.
“Do you have something to say, boy?” hands on his sword, the guard moved forward, towering over Sebastian.
Before Adelwolf could intervene, Sebastian pressed forward into the guard’s massive chest, “I’ve seen your so-called peace! The King’s guard is worthless outside the walls of this city.” That brought the other three guards into the fray, swords drawn, as the men waiting in line behind them drew back and the clerks scrambled away. Sebastian’s hand went to his waist where his sword normally hung and belatedly remembered he was unarmed in his guise as Adelwolf’s squire.
Seeing the motion, the guard grabbed him bodily, throwing him to the ground. Drawing back his heavily booted foot, the guard motioned his fellows forward. “Let’s teach this one his manners!”
“HOLD!” Adelwolf’s voice boomed into the sudden silence. “Would you dare lay a hand on MY sworn ward and servant?” He strode forward confidently, hands on his own sword, cloak flung back to reveal his finely-worked breastplate.
“Stay out of this old man!” shouted the first guard, turning away from Sebastian.
His companion lowered his sword and came forward to whisper in the man’s ear, “Did you not hear him declare himself, he’s a Swordmaster!”
The guard looked over at Adelwolf, really seeing him for the first time. He wiped sweaty hands on the jerkin covering his chain mail and swiveled his head from side to side, considering the audience forming rapidly around the spectacle. “Forgive me M’ Lord, I wouldn’t dare…but words must be answered for.”
“And you think it will not? He WILL answer. But he will answer to me rather than the boot of the city watch.”
“M’ lord…” the man began to protest.
“Do not try my patience.” Adelwolf’s flat voice carried with it the hint of violence. Brushing past the guard, he aimed his own kick at Sebastian, “Off the ground, boy, and watch your tongue!”
Side aching, Sebastian hauled himself up and back into his saddle, shooting a glare at the guard as he remounted. The guards righted the clerk’s table that had been knocked over in the brief scuffle. Entering through the gates, the sound of their sniggering was rapidly lost in the distance as Adelwolf set the horses to a brisk pace. Once they were truly out of earshot, Adelwolf pulled his horse short and turned to Sebastian with a fierce whisper, “That was foolish. You act like a boy yet want the responsibility of a man!”
“I couldn’t stand it, him talking about the so-called peace and my family lying dead in their graves!”
“You’ll stand more than that before this is d
one. This is no game we play and those guards would have just as soon killed you on some made-up charge had I not been there.”
“You didn’t have to kick so hard though…”
“I’d do it again, and harder if I must. It was expected and it allowed that guard to save face with his fellows and with the crowd. Had I not, he might have insisted you be whipped in the square or worse. As it was, he saw you put in your place. That will make us unremarkable to him. This way he won’t go spreading tales of the lord who let his man speak ill of the king’s peace. You have a decision to make. Are you part of this or are you not. If you’re not, we part ways here in Aldmoor. What we do is too important to throw it all away to avenge one family. Now be silent while I remember the way.”
#
Winding through the streets behind Adelwolf, Sebastian nursed both his injured side and wounded pride. He determined that next time no guard would be able to manhandle him so easily. Ruminating on the encounter, he rode right past when Adelwolf maneuvered his horse to the front of the Frisky Flask, a seedy looking tavern and inn. Turning Tonio back around, he dismounted and handed the reigns to a waiting stable-boy.
Pushing through the door of the tavern a wave of stale beer and old stew odors washed over them. Candles sitting on three legged tin holders in the center of each table provided light throughout the room, along with two iron-work candelabras suspended by chains from the arched brick ceiling. It was early yet and the fur covered benches stood mostly empty.
Eligium- The Complete Series Page 4
