Remnant Pages Spearhead

by J. B. Kleynhans

  ‘Hold up soldier, what did you just say? Is this Girdo and -’ asked Drissil motioning with his hand for the man to continue.

  ‘Welce is his name sir. They returned. Apparently they are survivors of the ambush that took out Colonel Cid’s and Captain Olum’s companies.’

  ‘They are here now!?’ asked Drissil.

  ‘Yes sir, I heard Harlem found them while scouting the pass to the north. I still can’t believe Colonel Cid -’

  ‘What’s your name soldier?’ asked Drissil.

  ‘Frask sir, and this here is Derowin.’

  ‘Good. Take a barrel there and follow me,’ said Drissil.

  Surprised and slightly hesitant the two men hefted a heavy barrel of ale and followed the Colonel.

  At the far side of the camp Drissil found a tent pitched open at the side where Harlem, Girdo and Welce sat. He had been roughly guided by a great many soldiers as he asked for directions through the maze of tents. Frask and Derowin still followed him, bravely carrying the heavy barrel.

  Clearly nervous, Harlem and the two newly returned men sat in tight triangle, speaking in hushed tones. They immediately grew silent when they saw Drissil approach.

  They’re hell out nervous about something alright.

  ‘Hello boys,’ said Drissil as cheerfully as he could muster, ‘good to see you back among us.’

  Drissil motioned for Frask and Derowin to stand closer.

  Minutes later the six men sat in the tent, the barrel emptying quickly as they talked into the night. They weren’t drunk, but Harlem’s group had accepted three rounds of ale without protest.

  Whatever the story, Drissil could understand why the men would be rattled, but Drissil wanted to know exactly why. He would have preferred not to have Frask and Derowin around, but he figured the numbers of their seemingly casual gathering of soldiers helped ward off suspicion from anyone else.

  Even tipsy Girdo and Welce talked vaguely, trying to avoid pointing fingers, Drissil growing impatient.

  ‘Tell me about Cid, did he betray the Kingdom like the Commander claims?’

  The three men were silent and unsure.

  ‘Whatever you may think I am your side, I only want what is best for the Lanston army, I have no time for Stelinger’s feuds or agenda.’

  It was Harlem who spoke first.

  ‘Colonel, my scout partner Julian and I encountered Cid…’

  After Harlem’s brief account Girdo and Welce took over, explaining their tale from the beginning. The facts they requited were almost fabled and in any other instance Drissil would have been unlikely to believe them.

  ‘Cid, or well, the Summoner and Lieutenant Brunick at least seems to believe that someone betrayed them, deliberately endangering the west side satellite companies,’ said Girdo carefully.

  ‘You mean to say they suggested that Commander Stelinger wants Cid dead?’ asked Drissil without shame.

  Welce grimaced, scratching his head and nodded in the process.

  Drissil was well aware of how uncomfortable the men were, including now Frask and Derowin who listened in as well.

  ‘Hmm, what about your friend, Julian? Did he report to Stelinger when he woke?’ asked Drissil.

  Harlem shook his head, ‘couldn’t remember a thing. I don’t know what the Summoner did to him, but when Julian came to it was as if that part of his memory was erased. Luckily I realized what happened immediately so I told him he simply fell from his horse and hit his head, which worked because I had to tackle him from horseback when he tried to charge at Cid.’

  ‘He used to work under Stelinger back then, right?’ asked Drissil.

  ‘Yes, almost all the core scouts are now men affiliated with Stelinger,’ said Harlem, himself on the verge of admitting suspicion of Stelinger, ‘when we first saw the drafts of the designated scouts I was pretty sure I had only made it because I’ve been an outrider all of my career.’

  ‘Are you still taking point?’ asked Drissil.

  ‘The Commander truly knows nothing of what happened I am sure. Tomorrow I’ll be back setting the pace Colonel,’ said Harlem.

  ‘Good. We need men out there who we can trust. Thanks for telling me all of this lads. I’ll back you up should you come under cross from authorities. Just keep your heads down and leave it to me to get the truth out. I don’t care whether it’s Cid, Stelinger, or the both of them living out agendas; I won’t let them endanger the army. Report to me directly if you come across anything else worth noting. Come on, let’s have a last round.’

  Chapter 30

  A Prayer for the Road

  Alex led to them to a cavern in the canyon at sundown. It did not go deep as far as the party was concerned, its space allowing only small hares or rodents past fifteen feet in.

  The entrance at least was well enclosed by a neck of rock and it allowed them to mercifully light a small fire. They did however have to use flint and tinder as Lidayel was reluctant to use any magic and especially the likes of fire he told them. They constantly fed the ever dimming fire a snack of twine and twigs, the only real kindling they could use right now. Solemnly they ate the fruit from the food sacks Harlem had given them.

  Cid realized that at least one of them should have complained that the fire’s light and smoke was going to betray their location, but no one did. The fire was an extra companion, the night time visitor there to listen to all the troubles that could only be spoken through a grim silence. Brunick sat close to the light and it wasn’t long before he took out a tiny pocketsize pig leather booklet from his vest.

  Cid had seen the book a thousand times; Brunick carried it with him everywhere. As usual it was a somewhat comical image, seeing the big man sitting hunched and crossed legged, cradling the book in his meaty hands. Brunick read intently in the meagre light offered and Cid wanted to smile at the familiar sight.

  He found he could not.

  With his arms around his knees Cid kept a locked gaze with the paltry flame. It felt like he was staring at his own hope, wavering in the canyon wind that managed to sneak into their enclave, on the verge of dying out, saved merely by that it did not have anything better to do than just survive.

  Bennam is dead…

  The thought came gradually and it was the kingpin of insanities that plagued Cid right now. Commander Bennam had always been the face of the Lanston military and his death only fuelled Cid’s alienation with the army.

  Deemed traitor, possibly murderer in the eyes of some. We might lose the war, we might die… even should we live I will lose Elmira.

  Still Brunick was flipping through the small vellum pages, oblivious of the world around him. It was something to envy, Cid decided.

  Brunick was a born into the brotherhood of Masons. Cid had always known this, first discovering when they met as adolescents. The Masons were a small order, claiming to be descendants of some of the finest stone working families in the world. True enough the greatest buildings within Asheva were crafted and designed by Brunick’s ancestors. In general the Masons were all burly and strong like Brunick, and almost all as vocal as well. Growing up in the sanctuary woods of Orlo, it was ironic, yet not illogical, that Brunick’s choice weapon was that of a lumberjack rather than the trademark hammers of the Masons.

  The real distinction of the Masons however came by their religious teachings. It was well known that the Masons subjugated themselves under a being called the Benevolence, claiming an intimate connection with a deity concerned with all humanity’s well-being. In contrast, the people of Asheva was cautious toward it, for the Kingdom’s very existence was inspired by men fighting the Summoners who would claim themselves masters over humanity. In the far west, past the impassable Starwall, it was said to have a city where the Benevolence slept and watched over the world. But here in the east, having no contact with the west, the idea of a Benevolence was unfamiliar to anyone outside of the Mason circles.

  Cid was undecided about how he felt about it all.

  He had to admit that
he was sometimes curious and jealous of Brunick’s faith. It was straightforward, yet it allowed Brunick to carry himself with such confidence. Or maybe that’s just who he is?

  ‘We are failing,’ uttered Cid before he could stop himself.

  Brunick looked up, closing his booklet, his hands swallowing it. Brunick did not meet Cid’s gaze, rather tossing another few twigs into the fire. He then stood up gingerly and sat closer to Cid.

  ‘We have people counting on us Cid. We’re in the roughs now to be sure, but we have to survive, we have to get out of this.’

  ‘I am not saying I’m giving up. ‘I’m… making a remark… I can’t believe Bennam is dead, he was…’

  ‘A great man,’ finished Brunick. ‘No matter what’s going down it doesn’t change what we need to do Cid. You know this. We still have our responsibility to the Kingdom and you still have to win Elmira’s hand.’

  ‘I wish it were that simple, that the Kingdom would so willingly give me Elmira if only I could be an inspiring Colonel,’ said Cid hopelessly.

  ‘No, it’s not that simple, they won’t divert her hand from Fredrere just for a Colonel, you know that.’

  Cid stared hard at Brunick, a flash of anger rising, not sure why the man was changing his tune after planting the idea with the Colonel in the first place.

  Brunick continued, ‘they’ll give Elmira’s hand to war hero, nothing less, and I never intended to say it otherwise.’

  Cid remained impassive for awhile, ‘and you’re certain I’ll come out as such? And in these conditions?’

  ‘I’ve never known a war in which you didn’t come out a hero Cid, my occasional wagering is not a gambler’s habit, I have faith in you because I know the man,’ he said, pointing directly at Cid.

  Cid wasn’t convinced, chewing his lip.

  ‘This here,’ said Brunick, gesturing and circling his finger to their surroundings, ‘this is the odds, and there can’t be war heroes without odds.’

  ‘Fate is working for me so I should play along?’ suggested Cid in tandem to what Brunick was hinting at, his voice ringing with cynicism.

  ‘Yeah, it’s not so long ago that you led us right out of Teritua. Everyone had thought us dead by then, but you got us out alive. They made you Colonel after that, imagine what they would give you if you saved us all from this mess?’ said Brunick.

  Cid gave half a chuckle at Brunick’s antics. ‘Do you think this is a mess, I mean the operation?’

  ‘Cid, really… we lost four hundred men, Stelinger is in charge and we have no real experience fighting in Alparack. How do think this is going to turn out if something else goes wrong? No, it’s like I said, your war hero odds have shown up and you might save much more than just your own marriage.’

  Cid nodded, in thought for a while before he asked: ‘Will you read me that bit about the angels again?’

  Brunick smiled, habitually folding open his book at the right place.

  Brunick had a great voice and flair for storytelling, whether he was elaborating a joke in a tavern or preaching from his teachings, he commanded the attention of all. Brunick read the passage resolutely, knowing just where to punctuate his sentences, Alex and Lidayel silent as well as they listened alongside Cid.

  The Mason finished and closed the book.

  Brunick laughed a bit, ‘you really like that passage, how come?’

  ‘Hmm, grand white wings, the invisible guardians, the ethereal messengers, great beauty and grace, flawless, untainted…’ said Cid, encapsulating the gist of the passage.

  ‘You are thinking about Elmira?’ asked Brunick

  Cid nodded, a bit embarrassed. ‘More than that; I’d like to think that someone is watching over her, that something is there to protect her when I cannot. That when I go to rest, thinking of how much I love her, that an angel sits at her bedside whispering to her of how much she’s cared for while she sleeps. That someone is at least witnessing our struggle if nothing else. Our upbringing is very different Brunick, but because of Elmira I sometimes find myself hoping that some kind of Benevolence is out there. Not so much for myself as for her,’ said Cid.

  Brunick nodded understandingly.

  A thought struck Cid. ‘Brunick, you are allowed to marry people right?’

  ‘In our circles, yes,’ said Brunick.

  ‘Would you, if we are allowed, if it comes to it, join my hand with Elmira’s when we return home?’ said Cid.

  Brunick’s face split into a smile. The big man knew full well that Cid was looking for something to hang onto, a possibility of a future instance that could give him hope and Brunick was glad to give it to the Colonel.

  ‘It would be an honour, my friend. I’ll do you one better, we’ll celebrate the whole thing in Pathra,’ said Brunick.

  ‘Ha! I thought outsiders are not allowed?’

  ‘It’s time for an exception, and its more the journey involved than Pathra being off-limits truth be told,’ said Brunick thoughtfully.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Cid happily, ‘Elmira would love to see Pathra.’

  They were silent for a while, listening to Alex and Lidayel’s conversation:

  ‘…and the staff?’ asked Alex.

  ‘Trees and plants have something very similar to our souls. They are not as complex, but a well-crafted staff or finely prepared herb can increase our magical capabilities when used right,’ answered Lidayel.

  ‘So all of this has got to do with how souls interact?’ asked Alex.

  ‘Oversimplified that way, but for the most part, yes. Although I would not use my staff much now in fear of losing control. I have not again yet mastered the workings of my own soul, never mind something outside of me,’ said Lidayel.

  ‘Like when you try to summon fire right? You can’t do that because…’

  ‘I might lose my hold on it and create something much larger than I intended. A magician’s resistance to his own magic will protect him, but it won’t do any good killing everything else around him.’

  ‘Oh! So that’s why the Priests can light up their hands like candle wicks,’ said Alex.

  Lidayel smiled, putting his hands together and rubbing them fiercely. A small enraged yellow flame came to life in the fold of his palms, writhing as he rubbed, evidently not burning the Summoner’s hands.

  Alex’s mouth was agape as Lidayel ceased and the flames disappeared.

  ‘You did it! That was control right?’ asked Alex.

  Lidayel shook his head. ‘There are more types of fire than you think. It’s an easy trick for a magician to mimic and conjure the light spectrums of flames, like I now did. That was simply an illusion.’

  ‘The Priests then,’ said Alex thoughtfully, ‘do they make their flames purple because it scares better?’

  ‘No, it’s a fire on its own, those violet flames are blasted magic, banned by the conclave of Asheva,’ said Lidayel in disgust, ‘they are designed to tear and burn through any obstacle. Only a barrier of magic can stop it effectively.’

  ‘And what about…?’

  Brunick grunted, waving their conversation away and turning to Cid, ‘I was about to pray silently by myself, I don’t know, but would you like to-?’

  Cid thought about where they were and what they faced.

  ‘Why not…’ he shrugged.

  Brunick nodded. ‘Just close your eyes, listen, and take solace.’

  Cid complied, shutting out the rest of the world.

  And Brunick prayed.

  Chapter 31

  Hunted

  ‘They are tailing us again, and closing. They knew I was snooping! if I was a bit slower they would have put a shaft through my head,’ said Alex as he caught up to the camp. They had been heading up north for another day now, putting as much space between them and the Lanston army as they could. Taking heed of Harlem’s warning Cid had issued Alex to fall back now and then to monitor the hunters’ progress.

  The fact was that four exhausted men could not outmanoeuvre an elite squad of scouts and
sharpshooters. Right now they were taking a breather along the border of the forest, hidden mostly by the trees.

  ‘We’ll have to do something, soon,’ said Lidayel.

  ‘You’re one to talk, how about some magic tricks?’ said Brunick.

  ‘I’m still as likely to worsen our chances as improve them,’ answered Lidayel, looking distrustfully at his own hands as they shone with faint magical light.

  ‘Any chance you could conjure up a couple of horses, or at least some ponies! I’m tired of running!’ said Brunick.

  Lidayel laughed genuinely. ‘My friend, your take on my arts is like that of fairy tales. We do not create things out of thin air, we manipulate-’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I have heard the stories before: Things you can and can’t do!’ said Brunick mockingly.

  ‘Listen!’ interrupted Cid. ‘We should get moving again soon. Lidayel, is there any chance you can use your magic to create controlled distractions? Anything that can fool or misdirect some Fallen scouts?’

  Lidayel nodded. ‘Yes, I should not have too much trouble with that.’

  ‘Good, now listen carefully everyone…’

  ***

  Brunick and Cid were sprinting as fast as their armour allowed them. The party had split for now, Alex and Lidayel heading into the forest while Cid and Brunick descended into the canyon again.

  ‘Do you trust Lidayel?’ asked Cid as they ran.

  ‘More than I do Stelinger, Cid. I’m reckoning that the betrayal is real enough, whatever Stelinger is planning we have to stop it,’ said Brunick firmly.

  ‘We have to survive first, then discover what’s really going on,’ said Cid.

  ‘Ha! Don’t worry Colonel, we’ll make it, we just have to keep our heads above water.’

  Some hundred yards into the forest.

  ‘Bingo,’ whispered Alex, his trained eyes spotting the Fallen first. It was a small strike group on the move, their patrol clearly not on the trail of anything particular at the moment.

  Alex pointed them out to Lidayel. The Summoner acknowledged with a nod.