Fury Lingers: Book One of The Foreseen Trilogy

by Ethan Spears

  “Why not ask for help?” Mendoro suggested.

  “What do you think the petition and recommendation were for?”

  “But we’re low-ranking soldiers. Why not ask Archon Keenas to step in on your behalf?”

  “Our relationship isn’t like that.” Aoden cocked his head, thinking. “Though it might not be a bad idea to try,” he thought aloud. “But I wouldn’t know what to say, or if he would even respond. I might be overstepping the bounds of our agreement.”

  Mendoro shrugged. “You said you would fight for it. What have you to lose?”

  “Not much, I guess. But then I have to convince him to help, so that’s just more arguments and evidence. It might just be more aggravation with no payoff.”

  “Surely there is something. He came to speak with you in person for a reason.”

  Aoden nodded. “Yeah… yeah, that just might do.” He looked at Mendoro, giving him an appreciative nod. “I think you’ve got something. Excuse me, I need to write a letter to Archon Keenas. Thank you for your input.”

  “Anytime, sir.”

  Aoden turned to enter his tent but realized his formal thanks wasn’t enough. He turned back. “Mendoro?”

  Mendoro turned to face him. “Yes, sir?”

  “Honestly, truly, thank you. If I keep my squad, I’ll have you to thank. I’ll appreciate that more than I can ever express. You’re an excellent soldier and a… and a good friend.”

  Mendoro reddened. “I don’t—”

  “No more humility. Just accept my thanks.”

  The soldier stood rooted a moment, then nodded. “Of course. Thank you, sir. And you’re welcome.”

  Aoden gave him another nod, then went inside his tent and pulled out paper, pen, and ink. He unfastened the pouch at his waist, pulling out the golden idol he carried within, and placed it on his desk for inspiration. Mergau’s head came up and she hummed appreciatively when she saw the thing. “What is that? It gives me an unusual feeling.”

  “An idol,” he answered, licking his pen and letting his brain seek ways to phrase this letter. “Blessed and cursed, powerfully magical, perhaps divine, yadda yadda, not important.”

  She made an annoyed sound. “Sorry for asking, then.”

  Perhaps it was because he was getting into the diplomatic mindset for the letter, but he couldn’t let that comment go without a proper response. He turned in his seat to face her. “Look, I’m sorry, I know you’ve graciously answered all my questions over the past few weeks and have asked so few of your own. It’s unfair for me to ignore you and I didn’t mean to brush you off like I did, but I need to focus on this at the moment. Can I answer your question when I’m finished?”

  Mergau looked like she was expecting any answer but that one. “That’s fine, I guess. It’s not like I care.”

  “Thank you.” He turned back around and began to write.

  Archon Keenas,

  I hope this letter finds you well. I have been dutifully performing that which you’ve requested of me, but I’m afraid circumstances may be turning against the continuation of my efforts. As we previously discussed, what I’ve been tasked with safekeeping belongs to squad four-one-eight as a whole and not to me personally. Bearing that in mind, were I by needs to leave the squad, the object in question would have to stay with the squad, passing to the new commander.

  The reason I write this missive is that very thing is set to happen in five days’ time. Due to reasons that are perhaps obvious given who I am, Archonite Valdon has seen fit to have me removed from my duties here and reassigned. I do not know where I will be sent, nor who will then be put in my place, but judging by the pace of things in our battalion, even should you find my replacement to be acceptable for your purposes, it might be months before said replacement arrives.

  To mitigate any issues that may arise from this reassignment, I forward this information to do with as you will. My personal preference would be to remain with my squad as we share a bond that I cherish, and so that I may continue to serve the Archon dutifully. I hope you will take my circumstances into consideration when you decide what course of action to follow.

  Yours in respect,

  Commander Aoden Halfelven

  He read the letter over, inspecting his language. Being of lower rank, he demanded nothing, threatened nothing, and suggested little. He made the letter vague enough that the secret he had been charged with keeping couldn’t be gleaned unless one already knew what was being discussed, while also pressing its importance. He was quite proud of it. He folded it up, sealed it with wax, and called for Malk.

  The scout knocked on the post and entered when bid, bowing politely to Mergau. “Take this letter and deliver it to Archon Keenas,” Aoden instructed. “This is absolutely top priority. No one is to see the letter but Keenas himself. If you can’t find him at his camp, do whatever it takes to track him down. We’re on a strict time limit, so make all haste.” Malk took the missive and immediately sprinted from the tent, not even offering a farewell to his commander or Mergau. Aoden nodded at the discipline, knowing if there were anyone he could place his faith in to get that letter to Keenas in time, it would be his scout.

  ***

  It was the morning of the ninth day. Malk was still gone, yet to return and report his duty completed. Aoden’s confidence in his scout’s ability steadily wavered until he awoke that morning in near panic. Still, until his time with his squad was up, he would perform his duties as their commander to the best of his abilities.

  He arose and stretched with nervous energy. Mergau sat on her bed, watching him and frowning lightly at some thought or other she was having, a routine that had become more common over the past week. While of some concern to him, he was too engrossed in his own affairs to offer her the courtesy of lending an ear.

  It occurred to him that should he be reassigned, he had no idea what Mergau was going to do. While his squad had been understanding of the plight of this woman and were willing to offer her safety and keep her presence quiet on their commander’s behalf, his next squad might not feel that way. He resolved that, should the time come, he would escort her out of the camp and direct her wherever she needed to go before completing his transfer.

  Mergau noticed him staring at her in turn and looked away, her frown deepening. Aoden wondered why she always had such a sour countenance but, as things stood now, his chances of finding out were slim.

  He had duties to perform. He stepped out of his tent, greeting the few soldiers up and about. He called out greetings, barked a few unnecessary orders so he could feel like he had some semblance of control in his life, and made a round of the camp. Breakfast neared, and the elves went about putting together the tables and setting up the benches. The first foodstuffs were being placed at the center of the table when an elf came shuffling into camp. Aoden turned sharply when he realized it was Malk.

  Malk came towards him at a ragged run, his feet barely rising off the ground and his whole face glistening with sweat. Aoden doubted he had ever seen an elf look this physically exhausted. Malk saluted weakly, then allowed himself to bend over and put his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

  “Wasuku,” said Aoden, leading the scout over to one of the benches. “You look like you’ve been running for days.”

  The scout nodded. “I have.” Minkin offered Malk a cup of water which the scout gratefully accepted and drank immediately, motioning to be brought another. He upturned the second cup of water over his head, rubbed his face, then motioned for a third.

  “Didn’t Valdon give you any water?” Minkin asked. Malk shook his head. “What an asshole.” Then he went back to prepping the table.

  “I got your message to Archon Keenas,” Malk said. “It took about three days to find him.”

  Aoden nodded, his stomach a tight knot. “And?”

  “Archon Keenas wrote a response to be delivered to Archonite Valdon as soon as possible.”

  Aoden balked. “You’ve been running for nearly six days st
raight?”

  The scout nodded. “With a few hours of sleep or foraging here or there,” he said.

  “Thank you, Malk. You’ve earned a reprieve. No need to join in the exercises today, just eat and rest. I appreciate that you’ve pushed yourself so hard to carry out your duties.”

  As Aoden made to stand, Malk motioned for him to stay. “I only just arrived at the Archonite’s tent with the missive a half hour ago. He sent me here to request your presence.” Malk looked up at him. “Good luck, sir.”

  Aoden nodded. It looked like everybody knew, now. “Thank you, again.”

  Aoden motioned for Dorim to join him near his tent. The lieutenant came over and nodded for Aoden to say what he needed to say. “I’m going to see Valdon.”

  Dorim looked over at Malk, then back to his commander. “Do you think whatever you’ve nearly killed our scout for has worked?”

  Aoden shrugged. “I don’t know yet. If it turns out things didn’t go my way, I’ll return to handle a few things and say my goodbyes.”

  Dorim nodded and said, “Best of luck, sir. We’ll be waiting.” He then stalked off to get himself some food.

  Aoden steeled himself and began marching toward the Archonite’s tent. While they had made camp deep in the forest, these were elven forests and therefore sparse by nature’s standard. Messenger alleys and camps had room to sprawl as needed, the trees spaced far apart, any saplings or underbrush cleared out as caretakers swept through the area every few years. This area had been prepared ahead of their arrival, so Aoden had a straight shot toward the heart of their battalion.

  He stepped into the clearing containing Valdon’s camp and tent. He moved through as he usually would, eyes set on the tent and mind closed to the insults of Valdon’s personal guard, meaning he was halfway to the tent before he noticed anything odd.

  He stopped in his tracks and looked around. As usual, the eyes of the Archonite’s elves followed him, but where before they sneered and called out to him as he passed, now they were impassive and quiet, whispering to one another as they watched. He found the difference in their attention unnerving and hastened his pace.

  “Come in, Saliel,” said Valdon before Aoden could knock. He, like his men, looked at Aoden warily, his finger running along the edge of a message he held. He put the missive down and folded his hands. “Do you know what I just received, Saliel?” he asked. Aoden shook his head. Valdon pushed the paper across the desk, allowing Aoden to pick it up as he continued. “Archon Keenas just sent me this message. It’s a new, army-wide standing order to cease any future and cancel any in-progress reassignments in preparation for the coming war with the orcs.”

  “So I see,” said Aoden, putting down the paper and sliding it back toward Valdon.

  Valdon moved the paper off to the side of the desk, folded his hands again, and considered the half-elf before him. “I don’t know how you did it,” he said, his voice remaining calm yet ever-so-slightly icy, “but, seeing as the message was carried by your scout, I’ve no doubt that you had some hand in this. I suppose I should congratulate you on finally getting a leg up on me—”

  “—But we both know that would ring hollow,” Aoden finished for him.

  Valdon didn’t react to the comment, allowing himself to settle back in his chair. “It’s clever, really,” Valdon said. “By making a broad-brush policy change like this, he keeps himself from having to interfere on your behalf directly. I don’t know what game of politics you and he are playing or what leverage you have on him, but I promise you that I won’t take kindly to you going over my head.”

  Aoden allowed himself a smile. “I’m afraid you’ve long ago put me off caring about your wounded pride, Valdon. It took me a much longer time than I would’ve liked, but now I finally have my squad, and you have no option but to sit there and follow orders. I’d apologize for taking away your fun—”

  “—But that would ring hollow as well. Yes, I know where you’re going with this.” He stared hard at Aoden. “This round goes to you, Saliel, but believe me, I will not let this slight go without answering in kind.”

  Aoden said, “Should I be surprised that being the bigger man never occurred to you?”

  Valdon dropped his calm veneer to allow himself a sour scowl, but rather than think of some clever retort, he dismissed Aoden with a wave. Aoden gave him an insincere bow, then showed himself from the tent.

  Aoden moved from the camp, walking as quickly as he could, passing by the bitter-faced soldiers of Valdon’s guard, trying as hard as he could to not celebrate right there and then. He was well out of the clearing and halfway back to his own camp before he finally broke down into giddy laughter. Soon, he could no longer control himself and began to jump and whoop with joy, breaking into a run past nonplussed messengers and soldiers as he made his way back to the squad he could now rightfully call his own.

  Chapter 18

  Terror and Murder

  Mergau was starting to go mad from inactivity. It had been over a month since they arrived at the camp. The Elf—or half-elf, as she now understood—was sleeping twenty feet away from her every night. She rolled around in her sleep thinking about it, but she couldn’t take action.

  Why? Her powers had returned, she was capable, and she could escape, especially in the middle of the night. The individual camps didn’t set a watch; instead, watches were handled by a separate section of the battalion that watched the entire parameter and set patrols through the center. She had seen them go by, tested passing in and out of the camps, but the soldiers didn’t bother her. One patrol even called out a greeting. They didn’t suspect other elves. She could just kill him and walk right out. If things went poorly, she could even manage a crude form of invisibility for a short time, just long enough to slip through the perimeter.

  She had been practicing the spells in the books Reggy had gifted to the Elf, so she could even kill quietly. A simple lance of ice (it turned out iron was incredibly exhausting to conjure) through the heart and she could just stroll away. If she was afraid he was going to wake up, she could even bind him. She had practiced the paralysis on a few woodland creatures. It was difficult to do at a distance, but with a touch, it was almost instantaneous. Against a sleeping elf, it would be simple to bind him and run him through.

  Yet she didn’t. And she didn’t know why.

  Her thoughts were conflicted. He had put himself in danger for her at least twice: once fighting the Gelta warrior, and once smuggling her into the camp, not to mention every moment thereafter. He had protected her with his life. But he had also butchered orcs by the hundreds. The two hardly compared. It should have been an easy decision, but she found it was not.

  She didn’t know what she was waiting for. A sign? An invitation? Some situation where she didn’t have a choice? Gods, why couldn’t she act?! It was infuriating!

  Soon she sank into depression, hardly touching her food, rarely reading, just holding the book there and staring uncomprehending, brooding. Sometimes she just lay in bed, not even getting up to exercise in the morning.

  Perhaps the Elf recognized her melancholy, or maybe he just didn’t want to spoil his own great mood, because while he was the happiest she had seen him, he had also been avoiding conversation with her. Sure, even before she had withdrawn, he had exhausted his initial curiosity with her, her people, and her lands, but he still made a point to converse with her daily. Now she had plenty of time to herself in the tent. When dropping off some food the other day, the Elf mentioned half-jokingly that the men were blaming themselves for her sudden refusal to eat with them, but it didn’t get a rise out of her.

  That was why, after a week of despondency, the Elf approached cautiously.

  “Hey, Mergau,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. “The squad is going on a double patrol. I know you usually stay behind, but I thought perhaps I’d convince you to come with us. Being stuck in this tent all day can’t be all that interesting.”

  Mergau was lying on her bed, book in hand
, but she hadn’t even opened it. She had been staring at the cover for nearly an hour. There was no doubt that she was bored, and fresh air would do her good, but the Elf, still living and breathing, was just a reminder of her failed conviction. She sat up anyway; the Elf would be around whether she went outside or not, so she may as well make an effort to solve one of her problems.

  “So, you’re coming?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. I honestly thought that would be harder. We’re nearly set to go, so whenever you’re ready, come on out.” Aoden left her to it. She hadn’t gone on a patrol before, but it couldn’t be much different from what she expected, which was a lot of walking and little else. She hoped it wouldn’t be a problem for her to keep up but otherwise felt indifferent about her afternoon.

  She left the Elf’s tent and observed the gathering men. The Elf and his second-in-command, the one named Dorim whom she thought of as the clumsy one, were splitting the soldiers into two groups. The Elf would pick one, then Dorim would pick one, going back and forth, until every soldier had been selected. She saw that the Elf had taken the sharp-eyed one with the unique markings on his gloves, the quiet one, and one of the laughing pair, among others, while the rest went with Dorim. Dorim saluted, and he and his ten moved off away from camp.

  As Mergau moved to join the Elf and the others, she saw the men grow excited at the sight of her. It was just like men, she thought, to become happy merely from seeing a pretty face. They were polite enough, she supposed, thinking of how rough most of the orcish men had been who tried to court her back among the tribe. Her mind drifted to one, the man named Bresk, and suddenly she did not want to be alone with her thoughts.

  “I’m here,” she called out. The Elf turned, gave her a polite smile, and beckoned her over. He said something to his men in Elvish, then spoke to her in Krik. “We’re just about to leave. Are you ready?”

  “Ready enough,” she said. “Where did the others go?”

  Aoden turned and shouted to his men, who gathered their bows, arrows, swords, and food, and began to walk. “We’re doing a double patrol,” he explained as they began moving with the squad. “The squad breaks into two groups and each scouts a certain distance ahead before turning back. We don’t need to be careful since we’re still in Elven territory, so this is more training than anything else.”