by C. J. Aaron
The elder phrenic hammered his arm into the stone wall to the side of the constrained guard. Ryl braced for the impact as his skin met the rock. Surprisingly, no sound emanated from the contact. Paasek’s hand seemed to pass into the stone as if it were liquid. His great shoulders rose as he sucked in a deep breath. As he exhaled, the wall moved with him.
Around the sides of the guard’s body, the stone trembled, rippling like the disturbance of rapid, tiny vibrations in water. Paasek grunted as the rock stretched from the wall in thin sheets at the guards wrists and ankles. The stone, as wide as a finger, wrapped around the captive’s wrists and legs before again meeting with the wall. There it merged, tightening to form shackles of stone.
Once the process was complete, Paasek took a step back, observing his handiwork. The guard, who’d moments ago been pinned to the wall by the strength of the phrenic, was now sealed against the stone. The color had departed his face. The alabaster of his skin seemed to glow in the dim light of the chamber. The phrenic turned to Ryl, meeting his gaze. The hint of amusement that flashed across his face was obvious to the phrenic.
“Who’s next?” Paasek growled as he returned his attention to the group.
It was no surprise that none volunteered.
The process of binding the guards was done in short order. The terrified, but compliant soldiers were secured to the interior walls of the tower by shackles pulled from the stone. Ryl examined several of them as Paasek worked, marveling at the wonders of the alexen. In texture, the stone was much like the remainder of its host, though slightly smoother. Its design matched in color, yet the patterns were elongated as the material stretched from one location to the next. By the time the last of the restraints were complete, all eleven guards were secured, spread out around the interior of the room. Their bodies were sealed to the walls by strips of solid stone.
With the guards immobilized, Ryl and Paasek ascended the ladder to the upper level of the tower. Though the guards had repeatedly denied the presence of others, they proceeded with caution. The room above was far more cramped than the chamber below. A row of bunks inhabited the walls between the vertical windows. A single small table with chairs sat in the center of the room. One lantern hung from the wall, suspended by a wooden peg alongside another ladder leading to a wooden door in the ceiling. It only required momentary inspection to determine that the soldiers below had been truthful. None awaited them above.
Though outside, the rain had let up considerably, drops of water splashed to the floor. Ryl ascended the ladder, forcing the swollen wood door ajar. He shivered as the chill from the rain and night air stabbed through him. He’d grown accustomed to the temperature inside, heated by the small fire, the burning blade of the Leaves and the accumulation of bodies.
Ryl pulled himself up to the waterlogged pinnacle of the tower. His gaze swept in a rapid, yet careful observation of the terrain surrounding the wall. The view from atop the lookout was bland. Even in the light of day it would have been nothing spectacular. He’d spent in excess of a moon watching the world pass by from a tower much like this, only miles to the south. All that could be seen now were the thin strips of light emanating from the closest stations spaced along the western palisade to the north and south.
Paasek’s feet splashed through a puddle collecting on the roof as he approached Ryl’s position.
“The alexen never ceases to amaze me. I’ve been alive more cycles than most, and I’m still in awe of the wonders it can produce.” The phrenic examined his right hand with unrestrained wonder. The rigid crystalline appearance that had coated his arm had reverted to its natural detailed state. “I must admit that I’ve never tested my control in such a way.”
“How sturdy are their bonds?” Ryl inquired.
“Honestly, I’ve no idea.” The phrenic issued a single note of a chuckle.
Ryl shook his head as he turned to the raised signal fire in the center of the roof. “I’m not quite sure how to tell them to bring a hammer, but I’ll try.” Ryl grinned at the elder phrenic as he moved toward the southern edge of the tower. Paasek retreated a step back as he removed both of the burning blades from the holsters on his back.
The night sky erupted with an explosion of brilliant green fire as the blades flashed to life. Ryl held the blades aloft for a moment as the wind swelled around his right arm. With a wide stroke, an arc of green fire painted the night. Propelled by the wind, the light lanced into the sky, sizzling out after a few dozen meters.
The signal fires to the south flashed to life in rapid succession.
Chapter 10
Ryl and Paasek remained aloft for a few moments, returning to the lower level as the thunder of footsteps sounded from the palisade. Torches flickered in the night, heralding the approach of a party from the south. A second group, though further away, closed on their location from the north.
The phrenics waited outside again to greet the first party to respond. They stood side by side, a step in front of the door to the interior. With the uncertain loyalties of those who would be first to heed their call, a measure of discretion was required.
The pounding of heavy boots on the stone crescendoed as the responding party materialized from the darkness and drizzle to the south. A group of ten, dressed in the drab, telltale apparel of the Cadsae Proper guard, slowed as they noted the presence of the pair of phrenics. Ryl folded his arms behind his back, his left hand closing on the handle of the Leaves. There was no telling the motivation of those who approached. They hastened to their companions’ support either out of duty or paranoia.
Ryl breathed a sigh of relief as the faces of the approaching party resolved. There were several among the group whom he recognized, though he regretted the names of all he did not know. Thankfully, the man in the lead was familiar to him.
Edros was taller and thinner than the average soldier, yet he possessed agility and quick wit. His youthful appearance was a poor indication of his experience, having worked his way quickly through the ranks, earning the trust of the captain and his staff. Le’Dral’s guards stuck together by order and out of necessity. Their numbers had been bolstered from the original group who defended the tributes, yet those who openly shared their same sentiment were vastly outnumbered. Having thrown their lots in with the captain, their loyalties were likely assured.
The rest, however, that was unsure.
“What’s the matter, sir?” Edros gasped. He worked diligently to cover his winded, rapid breaths. Though Le’Dral required those under his command to maintain a certain level of fitness, the sprint through the night at the sight of the fire had likely been taxing.
“You have my thanks, Edros, for arriving so quickly,” Ryl stated honestly. The arrival of a contingent of trusted soldiers would dramatically speed the handoff of their secured cargo, allowing them to continue on to their destination. Though the detour was necessary, the thought of further delays was frustrating. His time allotted in the Erlyn was short as it was. In less than two weeks their response was due to the council that now ruled over Leremont.
He was loath to miss the departure of Fay and his troops.
“A message needs to be delivered to Le’Dral,” Ryl added. “Your trust has been earned. It has been tested and proven. That’s not the case with all, unfortunately.”
Ryl planted his foot on the door behind him, pushing it open to reveal the prison within.
A collective gasp rose from the newly arrived contingent. Edros’s eyes widened; with effort he closed his mouth, which had inadvertently fallen open.
“What did they do?” he gasped.
“The waystation north of Thayers Rest was raided. There we found nothing but the corpses of the guards … and the civilians,” Ryl recounted the night’s discoveries. “We trailed the hunters through the night. They had constructed a shelter hidden in a grove a few miles from the western palisade. We followed one to the tower, returning here to his shift. He carried with him payment for this lot’s silence. What hand they play
ed will be up to the captain to discover.”
The anger that swelled within Edros took physical form as it reached his face. His lips curled into a snarl; his cheeks flushed red. He peered into the flickering light of the dimly lit chamber. The pale, hollow faces of the prisoners there turned from his withering gaze.
“They look green, though I recognize a few faces among their number,” he acknowledged. “Lesser-ranking children of some larger houses, if I’m not mistaken. Perhaps Deraly and Sarnic. Likely they developed a newfound sense of purpose now that they are their families’ eyes on their investments.”
Though his opinions of the tributes were clear to Ryl, the spite that flavored his final word was vehement. There was no disguising the truth of his feelings. He reached out, laying his hand on Edros’s shoulder.
“You have earned your loyalty, my friend. You’ve earned my respect,” he added.
The guard took a step back, nodding subtly to Ryl and Paasek.
“Le’Dral’s likely sent runners along the wall,” Ryl mused. “The message won’t reach him and return with a force large enough to transport and protect this lot until well after noon tomorrow. We don’t have the luxury of that much time, I’m afraid.”
Ryl exchanged a rapid glance with the phrenic at his side. The understanding passed between them. Paasek nodded in agreement.
“There are runners coming from the north,” Ryl added. “They should be here shortly. Pull the entirety of your patrol inside. Lock the doors and don’t answer to any you don’t explicitly trust.”
“Understood, sir,” Edros replied. “I have no doubt that we can hold the tower, yet that will delay the message to the captain.
“That is why we’ll be taking a volunteer with us,” Ryl added. “The hive the hunters made a nest in is less than three miles to the east. There are horses there. The ride to Cadsae will be much shorter and wearying than a run, don’t you think? Likely Le’Dral will have sent a mounted patrol in any case.”
After a brief discussion, the patrol moved into the cramped interior of the tower’s lower level. The eyes of those secured to the walls cautiously scanned the newcomers, yet none pleaded for help. It wasn’t the introduction of the guards they feared. Their worried eyes never moved far from the phrenics.
Ryl was pleased that Edros had volunteered to return to the captain with the news of the eventful night. Soon after securing the southern door, the report of a heavy knock sounded from the northern door. The patrol from the north had arrived. Ryl shuffled to the side, using his frame to block the thin defensive window. Holding a torch out in front for light, a face appeared through the frame a moment later.
The guard was unknown to Ryl, though that in itself was not uncommon or unnatural.
“We came as soon as the signal was lit,” the newcomer said. He was panting from the hasty approach. “Is everything alright?”
His eyes attempted to look beyond Ryl, though he hesitated to crane his head to see past the darkened silhouette of the phrenic. Paasek sidled up behind Ryl, disguising the entirety of the chamber within. The man seemed nervous; his three companions behind him moved uncomfortably in the remains of the storm.
“Aye, all is well,” Ryl answered. “The patrol from the south has just arrived. There have been hints of motion in the shadows to the west. Though I’ve yet to see them materialize, I can sense them out there. Return to your post. Vigilance is needed now.”
Ryl colored his words with a profound sense of urgency. He watched the fear and the concern blossom across the faces of the guards. With a lazy salute, they peeled off, running back to the north. For a moment, he felt a twinge of remorse, a nagging regret for the deception. This night would prove a harrowing experience for them. In every shadow, they and their companions would see an approaching demon. Every rustle of the leaves in the wind would raise an alarm.
Though he harbored a feeling of suspicion as to their motives. They would not face the test of loyalty tonight. Their shadowy figures had already disappeared into the darkness of the night. Only the rhythmic bobbing of the torches signaled their retreat.
“Edros, we must go,” Ryl ordered.
The soldier nodded before motioning to his companions who’d taken up stations around the room.
“Eshlem, you’re in charge,” he ordered. “The doors stay locked until word from Le’Dral arrives.”
With the necessary changing of command quickly settled, the phrenics and their newest companion exited through the northern doorway. The receding torches were little more than pinpoints of light in the night to the north.
Paasek unrolled the rope ladder, tossing it over the edge of the palisade. It hung in the darkened night sky for a moment before slapping against the edge of the stone wall. Without hesitation he swung his leg over the railing; moments later his head disappeared below the railing. The guard followed closely behind, though his hesitation was more profound.
“Store the ladder once we’ve reached the ground. Keep the doors locked. Instructions from Le’Dral will come soon,” Ryl explained. “Feel free to send a runner to the towers to the north once reinforcements arrive, informing them that the threat was exaggerated. They’ll have suffered enough.”
“Aye, sir,” came the reply from the guard, though it was apparent there was more on his mind.
Ryl moved to the rope ladder, quickly swinging over the top.
A moment before his head disappeared, Eshlem called out, “Sir, how are we to release them from their shackles?” His question, though logical, was asked with an undeniable sense of worry.
Ryl paused as he looked back at the guard.
“There are no locks, no opening for those shackles, I’m afraid. My first inkling would be a hammer,” he offered. “If that doesn’t work …”
He shrugged his shoulders, disappearing as he continued down the ladder.
Chapter 11
The pervasive rain that had plagued the air for most of the evening thankfully ceased as they made their return across the soggy terrain of The Stocks. Between the rolling hills, small rivulets of water formed, creating narrow streams. The trio splashed through them as they hastened toward the east.
Ryl took the lead, measuring his pace so that Edros wouldn’t falter as they crossed the miles to where they had left their horses. He hoped that the mounts remained where they had been tethered. There was no telling how many hunters lingered, concealed within The Stocks. He was anxious to collect the beasts before the deaths of their riders was discovered. A conscious effort was required to temper his pace. In the clearing weather, he and Paasek could have covered the distance quickly, yet there would be little point leaving the guard behind. As it was, the soldier maintained a pace only slightly slower than a sprint.
Only a few miles remained; he’d have ample time to recuperate during his ride to Cadsae.
Though they move with speed, Ryl was persistent with his scans of the surrounding area. His heightened senses illustrated more details through the darkness of the waning night. Visibility had been atrocious on the way to the palisade, courtesy of the driving rain; now, the thick churning clouds of the storm had shifted further north and west. The sky above sparkled with the light of the stars. To the east, the utter blackness of the sky had begun to transition. Hints of deep purple colored the horizon, foretelling the coming of dawn, though it was yet hours away.
They slowed when the darkened mass of the forest neared—the black shadow dominated the skyline ahead. Ryl paused; Paasek and the guard slowed alongside. The phrenics’ breath came in regular, measured intervals. They showed little signs of strain as a result of the exertion.
The same could not be said for Edros. He had done admirably keeping pace with the seemingly tireless, cloaked warriors. He sucked in breath after breath, his hands planted securely on his knees. Ryl grinned, patting the weary man on his back. For his part, he’d proven himself this night. He earned more respect in the eyes of the phrenic.
“Wait here,” Ryl whispered. “I’ll
make sure the horses remain undisturbed.”
Without waiting for response, Ryl stalked into the night, disappearing into the gloom of the grove. All was blissfully quiet under the trees, though the air was thick with the metallic tint of blood. Nothing moved beneath the trees.
Sneaking silently through the underbrush from the west, he quickly located the horses. The beasts nickered in protest as their finely tuned ears picked up the sound of his approach. Easily settling them with a wave of calming emotion, he unhitched the lot, leading them from beneath the grove. The wreckage of the hunters’ shelter remained as they had left it, though the rain had turned the blood-soaked ground into a slurry of mud and gore.
Paasek and Edros approached rapidly when Ryl cleared the trees.
“We’ll lead this lot back to the waystation and hold them in the stable there. If you’re comfortable, lead them with you to Cadsae. Don’t forsake speed for their company,” Ryl ordered the guard, who deftly took hold of a pair of horses.
“Aye, they look well trained,” he replied as he stroked the muzzle of the closest mare. The mount blew out a breath of resignation as she resigned to the foreign touch. “If they prove to be feistier than I can handle, I’ll leave them at the waystation. Lieutenant Moyan and the cavalry will round them up.”
Ryl nodded as he assisted, lashing the remaining beasts together into a loose line, retaining a pair for himself and Paasek. Edros looked at home atop the mount. Ryl had little concern for his control over the group.
