by C. J. Aaron
The words rolled off his tongue with a force and conviction that was unexpected. The emotion that pulsed from his body was potent; those standing shifted uncomfortably; those seated at the table leaned back in their chairs. Ryl’s focus was severed by the heavy, yet gentle hand of Paasek at his side. The phrenic councilor’s eyes spoke the lesson as well as words would have conveyed.
Ryl exhaled a deep breath, letting the tension that had mounted flow from his shoulders and chest.
“What can you tell us about forces positioned around the city, the castle and the facility?” Ryl quizzed; though his voice remained firm, the overpowering emotion was absent. For a moment, the mender regarded him with a curious look, one that skirted the border between scientific discovery and wonder.
“What do you mean to do?” The question was posed to Ryl, yet the mender’s eyes moved from side to side as his vision roved the room. It was Ryl who broke the silence that lasted for a moment.
“The events are upon us. I see no undue danger in disseminating the facts to any in this room.” Ryl methodically met the eyes of his companions in the room as he spoke. “The kingdom demands an answer as to our allegiance. They’ve set a timeline that I intend to keep. The information you provided has been a boon to our cause. The Deliverance presents a new opportunity, as does the greed of the new regent.”
Ryl clenched his hands into fists, though a grin tugged up on the corners of his lips as he thought upon the disposition of the true power of Lord Kagran’s troops.
“The winds of change have been steady and fierce,” Ryl commented. “I have no doubt that Kagran will one day see the logic in dividing those assets that he holds dear. For the moment, his power remains in his unquestionable control over that which the other houses, the sycophant lords covet so dearly. By consolidating his assets, he commands their tenuous loyalty. He also reduces the number of targets we must strike. Mender Brahn, your information has been pivotal. Please describe to the best of your knowledge the disposition of the troops loyal to him throughout the city.”
As succinctly as possible, the mender relayed what he knew of the state of the capital city. Lord Kagran had pulled nearly all the soldiers of his house inside the city walls, replacing the city guard that had been stationed there. The remainder of his troops as well as the displaced soldiers of the king had set a perimeter at the outer circle of the city. There they acted as a blockade across the mighty Kingsway, preventing access into the gated rings of Leremont, Their proximity would also serve as a security force, appeasing the sprawling estates that lined the road.
The army, reconstituted after being routed at the walls of The Stocks and the fall of the king, had been separated into two units. The first, buttressed by the forces of the great houses, was little less than a half a day’s ride from Cadsae Proper. The remainder was stationed several days from the capital city. Ryl expected that they marched purposefully toward Cadsae Proper, their arrival timed to soon after their notice was due.
“Our force must remain small and agile. Once in the city we must move with haste,” Andr added. “I know the city. I’m familiar with the landmarks that you’ve described. Le’Dral, we would benefit from a few additional guards, those who know the inner workings of the city well.”
Le’Dral looked to his side, meeting eyes for a moment with Cavlin. The crafty guard had remained silent to this point, propped in the corner of the room, carefully observing the happenings. He gave little more than a subtle nod of his head.
“Before entering service of the guard, Lieutenant Millis was raised in Leremont. Cavlin knows the city better than anyone here. Far better than Kagran could hope,” Le’Dral commented, though there was a tinge of uncertainty to his voice. “Though their absence will be keenly felt here among the walls, I can think of no one whom I’d trust more with the task.”
“Thank you, my friend.” Andr nodded his head in assent.
Ryl was pleased by the captain’s choice of guards to accompany the group. Of those Ryl knew, those he trusted, there were but a select few. Le’Dral’s selection of guards to accompany their group was an added benefit. He knew the mettle of the lieutenant; it was a wise choice, though his leadership within The Stocks would be missed.
Cavlin was still a mystery. Though he was undoubtedly skilled and unquestionably trusted, there was little known about the guard. He seemed to exist on a plane of autonomy that was shocking in the service of the well-regimented and disciplined captain.
“If it is Lord Kagran’s forces who now control access through the walled circles of the capital, we should find little trouble gaining access.” Cavlin’s voice was gruff, to Ryl he still sounded weary, yet his confidence was unwavering. “Though they’ve acclimated to the city, for most their knowledge will only be only superficial. The walls of the capital are far more porous than they understand. Even for a group of this size.”
Ryl closed his eyes for a moment, questioning the vault of information inherent in his blood. He steadied himself in his chair as the alexen responded with a jarring flood of details. Though he’d never stepped foot inside the capital, he experienced the press of buildings, walking through the cramped outer circle. The mingling scents of the eateries lining the market square were as enticing as they were foreign. The dichotomy of wealth as he viewed the separation from the outer to inner confines was not unexpected, yet stark and disturbing nonetheless.
With the disposition of their force decided, the plans they discussed were crude. Much would need to be decided on the fly, a reaction to the opportunities or setbacks provided to them. The crux of their mission remained unchanged.
They would not submit to the will of the kingdom. The age of the Ascertaining Decree would come to an end. Ryl intended that the negotiations rendered at this cycle’s Deliverance be final. He would cede nothing. All he needed was leverage, and the lord’s foolhardy consolidation of power granted just that.
There was little time to discuss the plans in greater detail. With the group decided, plans were made for the more immediate circumstances. The last of Le’Dral’s fleet, now moored inside the port, would sail with the evening’s tide. A little more than two days on the sea would bring them within sight of the capital city. Once at sea, they would have little to occupy their time save for planning at that point.
Though their needs were few, supplies would still need to be requisitioned. Le’Dral sent a guard to see to their packs, changing the subject toward the events of the last few days.
“Your timing as always seems to border on uncanny, Ryl,” the captain added with a hint of mischief to his voice. “It is likely more within these walls owe you their lives after your actions the other night.”
“There are likely more hideouts secreted among the scattered glades of The Stocks,” Ryl acknowledged.
“Lieutenant Moyan left with a detail soon after the messenger returned bearing your tales,” Le’Dral added. “If they are out there, we’ll find them. It’s not those hidden in the scattered groves that concern me. Attempts on those loyal to the tributes have increased. Though they’ve largely proven unsuccessful, they occur daily, if not several times per day.”
Talk of the increasing frequency sent a chill of concern through Ryl’s body. Their departure would reduce the strength of Le’Dral’s army. Few in number, the absence of even one phrenic was significant. The force, the messengers of the will of the tributes, of those seeking freedom of The Stocks would be composed of less than a handful of members. Their combined strength would be staggering.
The number of loyal soldiers, inherently trusted, was small when compared to the bulk of the army under his purview. They would face threats from enemies within, an army of men without. No one had forgotten the appearance of the demons from the Outlands. The blackened mess of bodies had slithered back to the wastes they called home, yet their population and motivations were unknown.
Ryl found that he was less concerned over the threat of the Horde than of the kingdom that surrounded his other f
lank. The Horde had responded without question to his command. They respected power. They feared his strength.
The motivations of men were far less linear.
The civilization had proven themselves to be self-serving. If men and women would sell their children, their most precious gifts, for the promise of gold, they would turn on a stranger without a second thought.
“We risk much in being seen leaving the security of The Stocks,” Ryl groaned. “Those who would see us fail will only be emboldened if our absence is noted.”
Le’Dral nodded his head, as the logic of the statement was sound. A coy grin graced the rigid features of his normally pensive face.
“Aye, Ryl, there is a risk in that.” The hint of glee that crossed the captain’s face for an instant faded as his stoic command resumed control of his faculties. “I doubt there are any within these walls who have yet to hear the tale of the restraints employed upon the guards you left in the tower. It took close to half a day to free the entirety of the group from their stone shackles. Many were eager to talk. The legend of the phrenics grows by the moment.”
“Was there anything of substance derived from their musings?” The stony voice of Paasek quizzed.
With a sigh Le’Dral lowered his head. “Sadly, though unsurprisingly, we learned little from them,” the captain intoned. “All had allegiances to one house or the other, though none were informed of any plans for action. Most had been paid to turn a blind eye. Loyalty to house over the throne, as it was their master’s assets that had been lost.”
Le’Dral held his placating hand out to the tributes. “Save your anger, for it is their words not mine,” Le’Dral appeased the incensed unawakened. “None were of any political or social standing to know any specifics. They were being paid for their silence and for their ignorance.”
Though there was disappointment in the lack of concrete information, Ryl was unsurprised. In all reality, it was of little consequence who among the great houses plotted against them at the moment. They had all bought a culpable measure of guilt. Those who had been deprived of the Harvest they claimed as their own would be eager for the opportunity to replenish their stock. To recoup their losses.
The deliberations at the Deliverance would be heated.
Likely more so than they could imagine.
Across the table, Averine’s giggle brought the attention of the room. His pointed gaze was directed intently on Ryl.
“That look upon your face, I’ve seen it before,” the eccentric elder bemused. “The Horde fell to that burning determination. The lords will stand no chance. As to your leaving the city, none other than those of us in this room know of your impending departure. We can find others who closely resemble your stature. I believe it was you who employed that deception once before, was it not?”
“It would be no trouble to commandeer enough pairs of uniforms to clothe the group,” Fay interjected. “None will know that you’ve departed. Many of your faces are not known well enough to recognize as it is, the brands will likely prove difficult, however.”
Lord Eligar scratched idly at the stubble that had formed on his chin. His eyes wandered as his thoughts sought the easiest, most logical solution.
Ryl closed his eyes for a moment, readying himself for what was to come. His breaths slowed in anticipation. “Fear not. None will recognize the markings,” he added, though there was a touch of strain in his voice.
Ryl felt the alexen churn through his veins, bringing with it a searing heat. The air around his neck seemed to crackle with energy. It took but a moment to accomplish. The startled gasps from the others was affirmation that his attempt had been a success. He glanced at Tash, Palon and Cray; there was surprise written across their eyes as well.
Where there had once been the angry, red markings of the brands, unblemished skin remained. The appearance was natural, the raised brands had smoothed, the signatures of the vile lords who had robbed them from their lives vanished.
Ryl felt the tax of the effort. Though the task had become markedly less consuming, it was not a feat he would be able to endure indefinitely. He exhaled a deep breath as he let the illusion fade. Though he worked to disguise the true effect of the exertion, he sank back into the chair, leaning heavily on the sturdy wooden back as he caught his breath.
“How?” Mender Brahn gasped.
“It seems there’s ever more to discover about our young friend here.” Averine beamed.
Chapter 26
As the time grew short, the meeting was adjourned, though few left the concealment of the master’s house and clinic. Both Le’Dral and Fay had sent guards to requisition both supplies for travel and clothing for disguises. Ryl peered through the shuttered windows of the thankfully quiet clinic. The ranks of guards from House Eligar had thinned dramatically. Captain Cipri moved among his final group of men, awaiting the head of his house.
The final contingent remained at the ready in the square.
It was a bittersweet moment for many. A somber affair. There would be no glorious send-off. The soldiers who had risked all to save the tributes had aided in preventing the complete slaughter of an entire city. The several thousand who now adjusted to life as best they could inside the walls owed them much. Though it was a pitiful percentage of the whole of the city, their presence had been crucial.
So many owed the soldiers their lives, though there would forever be debate.
Were they the saviors of the massacre of Cadsae Proper, or were they traitors to the throne, held culpable for the tragic death of the king?
The farewells spoken between the captain and his lieutenants were heartfelt and true. Fay was the next to bid Le’Dral farewell. Though a single stout handshake solidified no treaties, signified no long-term standing, there was meaning in the grasp. The captain and the young Lord Eligar would be forever and inexplicably bound by a single element.
They had chosen to forsake a lifetime of fallacy to stand by a single youth. Barely old enough to be considered a man, they had thrown their lot in with him. They had erred on the side of righteousness. Up until today, fortune had smiled on them. They had succeeded.
Their beliefs in Ryl had found concrete worth.
In the end, it was agreed that a contingent of Fay’s troops would remain under the temporary command of Captain Le’Dral. These men had embedded themselves among Le’Dral’s most trusted guards. They stood shoulder to shoulder with those who had abandoned the king in the defense of the tributes.
For a moment, Ryl was lost in the thought. They had followed him. Why? The answer was simple.
Power.
In Ryl, they saw power. They felt strength. Did they believe in the cause because it was right, or simply because they hedged a bet with the stronger of elements?
Either way, they had cast their die. Whether they liked it or not, their fates were tied to the tributes’, tied to his. Either they would stand together, or they would fall, erased from the history written from the hands of the victor. Ryl knew that if they failed, this time the erasure would be complete. They’d risk no reprise of the events of the last few moons.
From the eyes of those onlookers without the benefit of private knowledge, the timing of the withdrawal of the troops of House Eligar would likely be seen as a retreat. The missive from the regent at Leremont was no secret. Wildly differing versions of its demands circled around the fledgling city, rolling like the tides of the sea. With only days remaining before the response was required, the exit of Fay’s soldiers would be viewed very differently by the proprietors of the varied theories.
Captain Le’Dral had been intentionally loose-lipped when in the company of larger contingents of his troops whose loyalties were still in question. He acknowledged the value the troops had provided, yet their presence was needed at home. Every morsel of untruth that they sifted through would undoubtedly consume time from the focus on the reality.
“Let them think what they will,” Le’Dral had grumbled. “With or without Lord Eligar’
s support, they will still come.”
None of those assembled in the small room at the rear of the master’s house had delusions of anything other.
Shortly after their meeting was adjourned, the remaining members of their squad assembled. Millis, already cloaked in the unassuming greens of Lord Eligar’s troops, entered the building without fanfare, under escort from a pair of Le’Dral’s loyal soldiers. His head was hung low out of deference. In every way, he acted much like the unassuming guard summoned to the station for a brief stint before being shipped home.
With the click of the lock as the door closed, his demeanor changed. He rose to his full height, seeming to unfurl from the partially hunched pose he’d assumed. The grin grew across his face, though it was returned by the stoic face of Le’Dral. Cavlin, who remained leaning against the sturdy supporting beam of the wall behind Le’Dral’s shoulder, rolled his eyes, with a subtle shake of his head.
“The supplies are already being loaded onto the ship, sir.” Millis forwent the formalities, addressing the substance of the matter.
The final two members of their squad followed shortly after Millis. Ryl felt their approach well before they neared the master’s house. He grinned as his eyes met with Paasek. The elder phrenic had noted the telltale signatures, felt the warmth of their impending greeting. Cavlin spied the exchange, casting a curious glance in their direction.
“The phrenics come,” Ryl said.
Moments later a quiet knock on the door preceded the entrance of Ramm and Vox. To most, their greeting was nothing more than a casual nod of their cloaked heads. To the other phrenics, the wave of relief washed over them.
“Welcome back to Cadsae,” Le’Dral greeted them. “Any news from the Outlands?”
Vox and Ramm exchanged a momentary look before responding.
“All is quiet on the western palisade,” Vox replied, though his eyes quickly cataloged the inhabitants of the room. A look of curiosity flashed across his face. “There have been no signs of the Horde.”
