by BJ Hanlon
Slowly, they walked through the streets. People peaked from windows, around corners, and out from underneath wagons. The smell of smoke was everywhere. It was like a bonfire had been set to warm the world.
They met corpses, soldiers and guards, men and women. There were no more sounds of battle, he saw no glowing comets in the air, didn’t hear the clanging of metal greaves on the stone roads or any sword play. The thumps of the ballista were gone.
Edin found a bench and sat staring down a boulevard toward the sea and the smoldering docks. No one stirred. Arianne sat next to him and leaned into his shoulder. She sniffled softly and heaved her shoulders.
The morning sun rose to the east. Its warmth rubbing a small bit of dew from him and with it, the chill. Birds tweeted and slowly, the smell of the fire wafted away. People began to emerge. All were tentatively stepping out of their homes and hiding places. He’d been awake, almost constantly, for twenty-four hours.
It’d been a long time with no sounds of battle, but the night was like a shade over a lamp and not knowing any better, people stayed inside.
Slowly though, men and women began come out and then to run toward the docks, presumably to help put out the last of the fires. They could take care of it.
Groups of captives, men in uniforms of Dunbilston and Resholt, were paraded through the streets, Por Fen, were tied up and dragged behind horses and being pulled on the stone ground when they fell.
Edin sighed.
The sun sluggishly came out like waking from a long and glorious nap on the most comfortable of down mattresses.
They were alive and he hoped the ships were headed home.
A carriage appeared in front of them. Tor stepped out and waived them inside. He glanced over and saw Dorset and Canno on the other end of the stone bench, neither moved.
He shook Arianne awake, and then the other two. They crowded in the plush carriage and sat. None had spoken. Edin could still see the snarling dematian when he closed his eyes so he stayed awake.
“The ships turned back. The attack is over…” there was no smile on his face. “We’ve lost many though, more than a thousand men and women.”
Again no one spoke. Edin glanced out of the window and saw a bright pink building roll by. A scorch mark sat like a bullseye in the center with shards of wall crumbled to the ground before it.
“A council has been called, we will need to strengthen our defenses now and prepare.” He sighed when again no one answered. “If the dematians come, or another attack from those barbarians, we need to be prepared.”
Edin opened his mouth after a few moments and looked back. “What of Bestoria itself? Are we not to aide them?”
“Like they aided us? We’ve survived for long here, cut off from the world–”
“But you haven’t been cut off,” Edin said. “Otherwise there’d be no Ashica, neither Arianne nor I would be here…”
“True, but what will you have us do? Our forces are small, few of us have trained with weapons, and using our talent for destruction is not something many of us do.”
Edin stayed quiet then, as they rode into the gate of the castle. They stopped at the water fountain, the place he’d first seen Casitas and exited. Wearily, they walked toward the castle door. Off to the right, he could see platforms near the broken dome of the agora.
They walked in through a grand foyer and straight through to the room that had the throne on it. No one was seated there.
Around a large table, he saw many people, Le Fie, Placisus, and Grent were near the head of the table with Casitas. Council members sat off to one side whispering amongst themselves. Other people, ones he didn’t know but wore the uniforms of the broson and the guards, stood around the walls.
Arianne grabbed his hand and squeezed as Tor cleared his throat.
“As requested, Edin de Yaultan.”
They all looked up at him. Grent and Le Fie smiled. There was an open chair between the two and it was kicked out. Tor waived a hand for him to go.
Edin looked at his friends, they had downcast eyes brimming with the horror that they’d seen. He hoped it wouldn’t shake them too much. Edin walked to the table and sat. He looked at the faces around. None of the council members, the elites seemed to have been scathed.
Did they all hide in the castle upon the attack? He wondered.
“Welcome, members of the Praesidium. Both new and old,” Tor began from a seat across the table from Edin. “We are here to discuss our next steps: plans for the future and protecting ourselves from the next invasion.”
“What of the dematian threat?” Le Fie asked. “They’re coming.”
“We have our own borders to worry about,” Casitas said. “Bestoria can handle itself.”
There was an argument, people shouting, some yelling. Grent questioned it, heard the answer and yelled about his wife and unborn child.
Edin saw the dematian horde in his mind. That was something he couldn’t forget. If there was anything he could do, he had to do it.
Something tickled his mind, the sparring with the elf in Tor’s cellar, the fishing vessel to the northern fjords. The north land.
“Enough all of you, we can only worry about one thing at a time. Our people, our borders need to be secure first.” Said Tor, “Only after will we be able to help out… should we decide to. Master Grent, you fought bravely and will be taken to your family as soon as a ship is available. You may bring them back. But for now, we need walls, we need defenses. We cannot–”
“I must leave,” Edin said. He stood and pushed back his chair making it squeal on the hard stone floor.
“We are all tired, it was a long night of fighting but–”
“No, you do not understand, the horde… it is real and they cannot fight it alone.” Edin swung his hand toward the land. “They’re coming, not just thousands or hundreds of thousands… millions. And there’s something else… someone else.” He trailed off. Something was leading this.
“When you say leaving…” Le Fie said quietly.
“I must head north… across the Anderiania Sea to the northlands. I had a vision…” Edin wouldn’t say an elf sent him a message on the wave. “I must go there, to the Ocaricson Fjord.”
“The Dales Horn…” Arianne said. “Rihkar.”
Edin nodded. “I think there is something there… something I must find.”
A council member, a man, with bright red hair the color of a burnt sun spoke up. “But, you’re the Ecta Mastrino… we all know–”
“Maybe yes, maybe no, but I have no choice. It isn’t like I’m much of a builder and I can’t perform any decent spells. Ask Dorset.”
Dorset shook his head.
“I will be leaving soon.”
“And if we refuse you a ship?” Casitas asked. He’d been quiet and Edin did notice a large bruise just above the hair line. Maybe he did actually fight.
“Would you?”
Tor spoke. “You cannot cross the sea, the Corrinbomon.”
“I will sail around it.”
“That will take a month, you’ll have to sail directly to Bestoria and follow the coast and its getting to be winter… you could get snowed in.”
“I must go,” Edin said. “The rest is up to you, but know this, I will defend Bestoria to my utmost. I will defend all peoples from these demons.”
Edin started walking out of the chamber, Arianne followed as did Cannopina and Dorset.
There was nothing left of the Reaches. He had his sword and that was all. Dorset was the most distraught over the tower and his books and vowed to rebuild it. Gary was unscathed and the stables were mostly intact.
Edin would not be there for that. He was given supplies for the voyage, given thick furs and clothes for the harsh northlands. No one questioned him again. No one tried to stop him from going.
It was four days after the attack and Edin was packing his things on a sailing ship. Arianne was coming as well, she wouldn’t let him go off alone.
They
had a small crew, three of the best sailors from the city. Henny volunteered, he wouldn’t be great on the sea but could help haul things.
Edin stood silently, staring out toward the mountain and trying to envision beyond it, beyond the dark sea with the beast that lurked under its waters. A straight route would take only a week, the long circuitous route was estimated to be a month and far more treacherous…
Grent appeared next to him, his face seeming older and grayer than he’d ever remembered. “I’d go with you if I could.”
“I know.” Edin turned and wrapped his arms around the guard. A moment later, Grent hugged him back. “Take care of Dephina, give her my love.”
“I will.” He paused for a moment. “There is someone in the dungeons you should speak to before you leave. It may behoove you to add another passenger to your vessel.”
Edin raised an eyebrow and looked at him but Grent said nothing else.
“Well the Castilander is boarding, suppose I’ll be off to pick up my family.”
Edin nodded. “Watch your back, you’re supposed to be dead.”
“Many times over.” He grinned and left.
“Are you ready?” the captain asked appearing next to him.
He thought for a moment.
“I need to check the dungeons first. We sail in an hour.” He walked up the streets. People were already rebuilding, it was going fast. Some of the smaller ships were being cut up for wood, the lumber farm in the north of Brackland was working to capacity. But some things seemed to work easier. Spells were used to clean walls and some even repaired minor breaks.
He reached the castle and was not impeded. He nodded to Le Fie and Placisus, the latter was back in charge of the guard and Edin went to the dungeons. He walked down those cold steps, still charred from the fire. He passed the boarded-up opening that they’d blown through to escape.
He stopped at the guard’s desk, picked up the book and looked at it. The name stood out like a ginger cat in a crowd of mice.
Edin took the keys and walked down the corridor. Some men cried out, some hissed at him, some pleaded. He stopped half way down the hall and unlocked a door. He swung it open and saw the man before him and surprised that he showed no signs of the torture the Inquisitor had inflicted on him.
“Hello Berka, how’d you like to help save the world?”
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Also by BJ Hanlon
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The Abomination of Yaultan
The Timeless Keep
Book 4 7/9/2019
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This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places or events are entirely coincidental.
First Edition May 27, 2019 Copyright 2019 BJ Hanlon
Cover by Covermint Design
Edited by Beth Doward
Created with Vellum
