Those thoughts stirred in his soul and kept Sebastian company as they rode in silence towards Cuillen. The bright moon illuminated their way and the going was easy. They maintained a steady pace so as not to risk one of their horses turning an ankle. A horse turning up lame was the last thing they needed.
The wild grasses and shrubs of the valley turned to larger hedgerows and live oak as they passed into the hill country. With the brightening sky, Sebastian risked a glance back the way they had come. He was relieved to find that all he could see was the gentle undulation of the green hills along with the burgeoning forest. Turning back, he squinted at their path forward. The sun was just peaking over the horizon and shone in his eyes as they mounted the next hill. Lifting his hand to shade his eyes, Sebastian saw the road running perpendicular to their path.
Martino broke the morning silence, “I told you there was a road here,” he said with a scowl. Without waiting for an answer, Martino spurred his horse down the side of that last hill.
Sebastian blinked, something was off with Martino this morning. Urging his horse to follow suit, they reached the road and dismounted to stretch their legs. Martino pulled a meager breakfast of cheese and bread from his saddlebags, leaving Sebastian to fend for himself.
Sebastian found a shady spot by the side of the road and settled to the ground to enjoy his meal. Tearing a piece of bread with his teeth, he turned to Martino, “From what you told me, there should be a village about twenty miles up this road. Cuillen, right? We should be there by nightfall if we can push through today. It is sure to have an inn and we can sleep tonight under a roof rather than on the ground.” He yawned, as if to punctuate his words.
Martino pursed his lips, “I’m not sure about that. If they send someone after us, an inn be the first place they look?”
Sebastian took a bite of cheese and considered what Martion had said. “If they’re going to find us, they’ll find us on the road as easy as in an inn.” He took a swig from his water bladder. “Either way, we don’t have to decide until we get there.”
Martino finished breaking his fast and turned on Sebastian, challenge glinting in his eyes. “You wanna tell me what that was last night? What did you do to Loanan?”
Sebastian looked at his friend, “Are you sure you want to know? You might not like what you hear.”
“Sebastian, we all know there’s something different about you and there’s all kinds of wild ideas about what it might be. For once I want the truth from you.” Sebastian wondered what had come over his friend, he had never seen Martino like this. The silence stretched out between them and Martino took another long chug of water, staring at the friend he thought he knew out of the corner of his eye. “Come on Sebastian, what is it? If I didn’t know any better I would swear you are using magic!”
Sebastian stared at his friend for a long moment, “Would it be the worst thing if I did?”
Martino glared at him, “I dunno. I didn’t sign up to go riding through the countryside with a wizard.”
“Well first, I’m no wizard. I don’t have to use spells when I do magic. It just happens.” Martino spluttered, choking on that sip of water. Started now, Sebastian looked at the ground and spilled it all. Recovering the three Eligium, killing his father, the encounters at the Ansetl-lea and Cale Uriasz. Even what little he knew of his elven heritage. When he wound down, Martino sat there staring. “Well? Say something!” said Sebastian.
Standing, Martino climbed up into his saddle. “I won’t pretend to understand half of what you just told me. We’ve started down this path and I’m in it now. You should have told me all this before. It feels like you don’t trust me. Well maybe I don’t trust you either now! We need to get moving. Don’t go doing any magicking around me, ok?”
Riding north along the road to Cuillen, Martino’s reaction to his revelation discouraged Sebastian. He knew the disgust he felt first meeting Cenric and finding out the boy was pursuing wizardry. In his most honest moments with himself, he struggled with the fact of his own magic. It went against everything he had been taught growing up and now he found himself a part of this whole other world where magic was not the horrible thing he thought he knew.
He had to trust his friend’s knowledge of this road and the village of Cuillen ahead. Sebastian had never heard of the place, but Martino seemed certain. Growing up in a merchant family in Cale Conall, Martino knew much more than Sebastian about the kingdom with its various roadways, cities, villages, and Cales. To hear him tell it, though, he had not paid close attention. The youngest of three brothers, Martino had never put much stock in the family business growing large enough in his lifetime to support three brothers.
Near mid-day, the two stopped under the shade of a stand of tall oaks just next to a brook to water their horses and eat their luncheon. Sebastian reclined against an old log, listening to the rush of the water over stones. It was hypnotic and almost covered the gentle singing of a sparrow chirping in the distance. His heart swelled, and he felt freer than he had since his first encounter with Krystelle so many months ago. For once, he was taking charge of his own destiny rather than allowing events to catch him up in their wake.
A commotion behind him drew Sebastian from his reverie and he turned to find Martino climbing back into his saddle. “Are you coming? We need to get moving if we are going to reach Cuillen by nightfall.”
“Sure,” said Sebastian as he rose to his feet. “But I thought we were making good time along this road. Can’t hurt to rest.”
Martino scowled, “We’ll have plenty of time to rest when we get there.” Urging his horse forward, Martino started down the road without waiting for his friend.
Sebastian stared after, for a moment his vision blurred and he caught a glimpse of thin black threads encircling Martino’s head and rising off into the distance. He blinked, and then they were gone. “What was that?” he wondered as he pulled himself onto his own horse, urging him forward to catch up with Martino.
The rest of the afternoon proceeded in a series of uncomfortable interactions between the two as Sebastian tried to draw Martino out of his shell, and Martino became increasingly irritable. Sebastian saw no reason for it and, after several hours, gave up the cause, resigned to his friend’s sudden irritability. He kept looking, but never saw the black threads again. It was a relief when they came over a small rise to find Cuillen visible in the distance. He decided his friend needed a good night of sleep and all would be well in the morning.
From their vantage on the hilltop, Cuillen reminded Sebastian of his own home in Taleros. The main road bisected the town down the middle, leading to the familiar village commons. He could make out the gritty smoke from a blacksmith alongside the livery and just down the street from a common-house that doubled as an inn. The one glaring difference was the makeshift wall surrounding the town.
Cobbled together from debris and cast away farm equipment, the wall ran a full half-circle around the town, leaving only the eastern border exposed. A river ran along that side, providing protection and powering the millhouse at the same time. A path was forming along the western edge, leading around the town to the continuance of the road on the far side. A pair of farm hands turned guards stood at the gates, makeshift weapons at hand. Sebastian realized that not every traveler who came this way was granted leave to enter the village.
“I wonder why the wall and guards?” he said, not expecting an answer. Martino grunted in response, kneeing his horse into motion. There was nothing for Sebastian to do but follow and hope his friend did not keep them from getting past those guards.
It was no good. Martino bore down on the guards without slowing. He pulled up at the last moment, his horse kicking up a cloud of dust. “Open the gates,” he demanded.
The older of the two guards stepped back from the dancing horse, giving himself room to maneuver and glared at the two of them. “Who are you and what’s your business in Cuillen?”
Sebastian went to answer and smooth the waters, but
Martino got there first. “Who we are is our own business. We need rooms in your commons-house for the night and a hot meal.”
“No rooms here for you. You’d best be on about your business,” he waved them toward the path leading around the town.
Martino pushed his horse forward, “No rooms for us? Let us through and we’ll talk to the innkeeper about that.” Out of the corner of his eye, Sebastian glimpsed the dark threads thickening and wrapping around his friend, but before he saw more the vision faded.
Sebastian tried again to get in front of things before it went sideways. He did not understand what had come over Martino. “Don’t mind my friend here. We’ve ridden a long way, and have…” With one swift motion, Martino drew his sword and struck down the first guard, turning his horse to trample the second. “What are you doing?” shouted Sebastian.
Ignoring him, Martino pushed his way through the gate into the village. Draw now by the commotion, the villagers were coming out of their various buildings. Martino charged the blacksmith who was coming at them with a long metal bar. For all his size, the man was no match for Martino. He fell in seconds, and Martino turned towards the forming crowd of angry townsfolk. Sebastian rode up next two him, drawing his own sword. There was no going back now.
Screaming a challenge, Martino kicked his horse forward to engage the crowd, with Sebastian right behind. The villagers roared in defiance and ran towards the two mounted warriors. Caught in a berserker rage, Martino laid about with his sword as he crashed into the small crowd. Sebastian followed. He had no wish to harm these folk, so he worked to disarm and stun, protecting Martino’s back as best he could.
It was over in minutes. Martino sat astride his horse, blood dripping from his sword and his chest heaving. Surrounding them were the broken bodies of the villagers. A few moans emanated, telling Sebastian he had been successful in at least keeping it from becoming a complete massacre.
A young lad of only seven years ran out from the blacksmith shop and threw himself on the still body of that first man. Weeping, he howled in grief and Martino threw his head around at the sound.
Seeing the berserker rage still in his friend’s face, Sebastian pulled his horse between Martino and the boy. “Martino, do you know me?” he shouted. He could see the black threads clearly now. Reaching out with his mind, he willed them away from his friend. Pulsating, they resisted and then unwrapped, recoiling into the distant sky.
Coming to himself, Martino blinked twice and took in the scene of devastation around him. The blood drained from his face as he realized what he had done, and what he had been about to do. He looked at Sebastian, “I…I don’t know what came over me. It was like something took over my whole body and I was in there watching, but I couldn’t stop it.” Sitting there in his saddle, he wept.
“Martino, we have to go. The noise will bring the rest of the farmhands from the fields and they’ll kill us where we stand or we’ll be forced to kill more of them.” Not moving, Martino sobbed again. Recognizing that his friend was back, and beside himself with grief, Sebastian took hold of his reigns and led him out the gate on the north edge of town.
Sebastian and Martino rode well into the night. Tired as they were, they recognized that they had to put distance between themselves and the village they had massacred. The sun had long set when the exhaustion caught up with them and they led their horses off the road to make camp. Hoping they were far enough from the road should any pursuit find them, both fell into a deep slumber.
#
Hours after the battle at Cuillen, two red-robed figures rode out of the night, approaching the barricade to the town. Stopping short, the two Brothers inhaled deeply as the fog swirled around their horse’s legs. “Brother Seppo, do you sense it?”
Nodding, his companion pressed forward, maneuvering his way around the unguarded entrance to the village. “There was a battle here, my Brother,” he said, dismounting to search the ground. “Two swordsmen, unpracticed but effective against these townsfolk.”
“Yes, but that would not have brought us. You felt the same thing as I.”
“Indeed. One of the swordsmen had the use of a strange magic such as I’ve not sensed in a long time. I do not think he used it in the battle, but the residuals are here.”
“Could it be him? The one who has been collecting the stones?”
“Yes Brother Koen, I believe it must be. Nothing else could explain what I am sensing. Yet I thought he was still far to the south with Gabirel.”
“If he has left their protection then an opportunity presents itself. We must pursue the Defier and bring him before the Brethren to answer for his crimes under the Ban.” Remounting his horse, the Krenon turned to the north. “He travels this way. I do not believe he can be far ahead.”
Seppo raised his hand, “Patience my Brother. Do you not sense the other influence here?” Koen looked back, shaking his head. “Whatever happened here, I can feel the influence of the Soulstone. We must be cautious.”
“The Soulstone?” said Koen. “Could the Defier be the one who stole the stone at Dazhberg?”
Pursing his lips, Seppo considered the idea. “No, I don’t think so. The stone itself was not here, only its influence. I will contact the others, we may need assistance to bring him to account.” Closing his eyes, Seppo put himself into a light trance. Koen could see his lips quivering as he conversed with their Krenon Brothers at the encampment two days south. They had been on their way to the camp when the release of power at Cuillen had drawn their attention.
At last, Seppo broke the connection, his eyes snapping open. “Well?” said Koen.
“We are to find their trail, but pursue slowly. Two Brothers are coming to aid us, including Mihails Helmo.”
Koen gasped. Helmo was reputed to be the most powerful Krenon since the Ban. He’d singlehandedly brought three dark wizards to account and faced down the Arch-mage Philon in a confrontation over a small group of self-taught magic users. Koen had not known Helmo had returned to Cynneweald. “If they are sending Helmo then they believe this Sebastian truly is a threat.”
“A threat. But one that we have the opportunity to end. For now, I have no desire to spend another minute here. Let us leave this village and ride north a ways before we camp. We’ll pick up the trail and then wait for Helmo and his companion to join us.
#
In the days that followed Cuillen, Sebastian and Martino made their way north towards the Dwarven enclave. As the road entered the mountains, and they gained altitude, the days grew chill, and the nights even colder. Neither of them could explain what had happened in the village. Even the memory of what he had done haunted their thoughts and by mutual agreement the two avoided contact with anyone else on their journey, bypassing the few other villages along their path by a wide margin.
Passing above the tree-line, there was evidence of a recent winter storm. Snow accumulation remained tucked away in every shadow and Sebastian was glad they had not tried to navigate this trail during the storm. Winding between the mountains, the path led along the side of cliffs where one misstep would send them plummeting.
Leading the way, Martino stopped at a wide crevice branching off from the main trail. “This has to be it.” Dismounting, the two led their horses down the narrow path. It wound around for several minutes before ending at a sheer cliff face. Martino looked toward Sebastian in confusion, “I don’t understand. The gate should be here.”
“Indeed, it is.” The two spun around at the sound of the gravelly voice, finding a small contingent of armed dwarves. “The question is, who are you and how do you know about the gate? No one happens across this place by accident.”
Gulping, Martino launched into the story the two had concocted to gain entrance. “My name is Martino Teodison. My father is Reinhard Teodison, known to you in Hallvard as an honorable trader. He has sent me and my guard to take counsel on matters of trade.”
The dwarf looked them over. "Master Teodison I’ve heard of. Your words of his
honor are true. It is also true he has three sons, the youngest named Martino. How do I know you are he? Have you letters of introduction or right to speak on his behalf?”
“I had such letters as is proper. I must confess, however, that I lost them along the way. My father will have words to say about that I am sure. Perhaps my signet ring as the third son of House Teodison will gain us entry?” He extended his right hand to show the ring.
The dwarf laughed, the rumbling coming deep from his belly. “If your father is the man I’ve heard him to be, he’ll have more than words for you about losing those letters. The ring may gain you and your man entry, but it will take more proof than that to gain you egress. Without those letters you may not enter Hallvard armed. Will you take those terms?” Martino nodded in acceptance. “Then be ye welcome. I am Asegeirr, the Door-warden. These will take your horses and your arms.”
“HOLD!” the voice echoed in the narrow canyon. Turning to see where it came from, Sebastian took a step back. Four red-robed Krenon blocked the way. The one in front nudged his horse forward. “Dwarf, these two are wanted by the Krenon Brotherhood as Defiers. They are dangerous. Stand aside and we will take them back to account for their crimes.”
Asegeirr laughed, a gravelly sound and took two steps forward, his hand caressing his axe. “Who are ye that you’d give orders to the Door-warden of Hallvard?”
“I am Brother Mihails Helmo and I warn you Door-warden, do not cross me in this.”
Sebastian stiffened at the name. During his time at the Dazhberg, he’d heard tales of the famous Krenon Brother. One of the most ruthless Krenon in the Brotherhood, no magic-user wanted to cross paths with the man. Many in Gabirel believed that they would not have recovered the fortress had Helmo been at the Dazhberg during the Krenon occupation. Breathing deeply, Sebastian connected to the magic within himself, looking for a way out of this.
Eligium- The Complete Series Page 36
