“Let us not waste time. I can eat while I ride.” She said. Mayvard nodded and replaced Bel’dak at his back where it belonged. He turned to Stanwyck’s white mare and mounted.
Rhada turned her gaze down to the man named Bayard and asked; “you are certain your wound will not need tending to?”
Bayard nodded. He was already getting to his feet. He held his blood-stained hand out towards her so that she may see the blood was beginning to dry.
“The bleeding has already stopped.” He said with a grin.
Rhada nodded. “We are riding ahead. Get to your horses quickly and return to Axendra before Ivran and his men come looking for this one.” She gestured to the unconscious Stanwyck at their feet. They nodded and walked to the fire and began kicking dirt over it to put out the flames.
Rhada kicked Mayvard’s horse into motion, shaking away the guilt she felt over leaving poor Stanwyck in the dirt, but Axendra was not a place she could take the man for recovery. He was better off dealing with the wild animals and the elements than the tyrants of the realm’s capital.
Chapter 11
It had taken Lord Ivran less than ten minutes to rally a small group of men into traveling with him. All he had to do was mention Rhada’s name and the fact that Protector Stanwyck was in trouble and nearly twenty of Stanwyck’s men jumped to their feet, strapped themselves in their armor and were awaiting his order to march. Lord Ivran rushed as quickly as he could to get himself ready. He was unable to find his wife in all the chaos and sent a messenger to tell her where he had gone. Once he was atop his horse, he was charging forward at his fastest pace and Stanwyck’s men followed closely behind.
They rode hard all that day, pushing their horses into near exhaustion but the beasts, it seemed, desired to catch up with Stanwyck just as much as their riders. They breathed heavily into the thick afternoon air as their hooves beat down into the soft ground below.
As the day wore on and the sun began its final descent into night, Lord Ivran could no longer deny that he needed rest. He pulled on the reins to slow his horse and when his company saw, they all did the same.
“My Lord, is something amiss?” A man by the name of Aiduin Geronim asked.
Lord Ivran shook his head then looked to his men regretfully. “A rest is needed, that is all.” As soon as the words escaped his mouth, he could see the disappointment grow on his companions’ faces.
“But the sun has not even set yet, my Lord.” Aiduin argued. “Protector Stanwyck may need our aid even as we speak!” The other men all nodded and voiced their agreements. Lord Ivran held up a hand to silence them.
“A short rest for water and a quick bite; that is all I ask. We cannot expect to ride our horses as we are all through the night and tomorrow. Surely they will collapse underneath us.”
“My Lord, with your permission, I should like to journey on ahead. I will go slowly, as to not make my horse weary.” The man who spoke was tall and sat sturdily in his saddle, unaffected by the day’s long ride. This man, he knew, was a skilled rider.
“What is your name, warrior?” He asked, wanting to remember this brave man.
“Hadrian Ansfroy, my Lord. I am Protector Stanwyck’s personal advisor.” Lord Ivran knew he recognized this man. He had sat next to Stanwyck the day they dined in his hall.
“I will go with him.” Aiduin added. Lord Ivran knew that Aiduin was Stanwyck’s closest friend. In all this time, since the day they had arrived in Ylia, Ivran had never seen Aiduin and Stanwyck apart from each other.
“Very well.” Lord Ivran said, knowing that if he made them stay with the group, they would despise him for it. “The rest of you stay here for now.” Ivran said, turning to the rest of his company. “Rest yourselves and your horses and when you are fit enough, ride on and meet us up the road.” He heard no other objections from the men around him. As he looked upon their faces, he knew they were just as worn as their horses and were glad for the break, though none of them would admit to it.
“You are coming with us, my Lord?” Aiduin asked with confusion.
“Yes. I am responsible for Stanwyck’s predicament. If anyone should be there to help him, it should be me.”
“Then let us ride.” Hadrian said and pulled on the reins to force his horse forward.
They started at a slow canter but after about an hour or so, they had slowed all the way to a steady walk. With each step their horses took, Lord Ivran’s weariness seemed to increase but he fought it the best he could. He would not allow these two brave men to ride on and save Stanwyck while he stayed behind.
They walked on for some time in silence. It wasn’t until that night, when the sun had disappeared behind the horizon and only the stubborn light of dusk remained, that someone spoke up.
It was Hadrian who spoke. Ivran could tell from the sound of his cracking voice the man was parched but he never complained nor asked if they could stop for some water. He turned his head to look Lord Ivran respectfully in the eyes as he spoke. “So, my Lord, you mentioned that Protector Stanwyck is in danger. What sort of danger is he in exactly?”
Lord Ivran knew eventually this question would be asked and so he had tried his best to prepare himself for it, but still he felt his muscles tense and a dread overcome him as he looked back to Hadrian. He still was not certain how he would explain Stanwyck’s predicament to these men. Here were two of Stanwyck’s most trusted men- Hadrian, his personal advisor, and Aiduin, his closest friend. The three men all looked to be of the same age and it dawned on Ivran they must have grown up together. This knowledge made it even harder for Lord Ivran to explain his foolishness. How can I tell these men that I sent their leader off with the enemy? But he knew there was no way of avoiding telling them the truth and so he took a deep breath and began- “As you know, Protector Stanwyck volunteered to travel to Axendra to spy for me.”
“Yes. Protector Stanwyck is a brave man.” Hadrian said with pride.
“Very brave indeed.” Ivran added with a small smile. “But he was not traveling alone.”
“The man with his sick wife traveled with him.” Aiduin chimed in. Unlike Hadrian, Aiduin kept his eyes focused on the road ahead instead of looking to the men with which he was speaking. “Protector Stanwyck told me of his journey before he left the camp.”
“I met that man.” Hadrian interjected. “I saw him come into camp with an extra rider and asked him about it. He seemed a true and caring man.”
“Well he is not.” Lord Ivran interrupted with contempt. “The man who claims to be a farmer from South Fort with a sick wife who urgently needs Axendra’s care is a liar and a fraud!” Lord Ivran spat angrily at the ground and noticed that Aiduin had finally turned his gaze curiously at him and suddenly, he found he could not look at the men. His shame from being deceived was too much for him to bear. He did not want to witness their horrified reactions to the truth. He turned his gaze to the road and continued in a deep, throaty voice that conveyed the anger he felt towards himself.
“The man claiming to be Tirdan is actually Captain Mayvard Stoneward of Axendra and the woman was High Protector Rhada. They snuck into our camp to spy on us and left with Stanwyck, back to Axendra. And I am the fool who let them leave. I believed his lies and sent them off with poor Stanwyck. I can only pray now that no harm has come to him.”
Silence fell over them once again, but this time, the silence was deafening. It clouded the air around them, making it thick and heavy and hard to breathe. Lord Ivran did not look at the two men. He wanted to be a strong, courageous leader but he could not be those things if his men thought him a fool.
Finally, Aiduin spoke. His voice was laced with a thick sadness that caused Lord Ivran’s heart to break.
“In all likeliness, Stanwyck is dead.” These words pulled Hadrian to attention and he looked to Aiduin with anger.
“Let us not lose hope for our friend. There is no reason we should assume him dead already. We may yet still be in time to save him.”
Lord Ivra
n could not stay silent any longer. He wanted to tell these men the cold, hard truth so that perhaps the shock of what was to come would not be so bad. “He could either be dead or a prisoner. Either way, we must press on and do what we can for Protector Stanwyck. A man such as him does not deserve the fate I have dealt him.”
“Do not blame yourself, my Lord.” Hadrian said with deep compassion. “Captain Mayvard is a cunning man, apparently. He had the entire camp fooled. Not even Protector Stanwyck, who I know has met the man before, knew who he was riding with.”
Lord Ivran had not thought of this before. Of course Stanwyck must have met Mayvard during the rebellion. Rhada had marched her entire army to Tanis to calm the storm there and Mayvard was with her. It suddenly seemed strange to him that no one was able to recognize him. True, he was a new Captain and had only been by Rhada’s side from the beginning of the rebellion until now, but it was only two years ago that Mayvard marched his way through Kaena with his master. Surely the man could not have changed that much in so little time?
As though he was reading Lord Ivran’s mind, Aiduin said; “I met him once as well. I shall never forget that day. The High Protector stormed into Tanis with her thousands and cut down any who tried to get in her way as though they were overgrown weeds. She forced her way into the castle and was going to execute Stanwyck. Mayvard was there, I remember, but he was sort of hidden in the shadows.”
“What do you mean by that?” Lord Ivran asked irritably.
“I mean that all eyes were focused on the High Protector and her blade digging into Protector Stanwyck’s neck. None of us could pay attention to anything else, we were all so terrified.” Aiduin shook his head. “And to think, Stanwyck now lies at the mercy of that bitch once again. And there is no one there to save him.”
“We will be there to save him!” Hadrian said with fervor. “Let us make haste and find him before the dawn!”
Lord Ivran shook his head once more. “We should keep our pace steady and let the others catch us up.”
“We cannot waste that much time!” Hadrian argued.
“If we do catch up to them, it will take more than three of us to take down the High Protector and that is without her Captain protecting her. She is very skilled with the sword and has taken down many men on her own. We cannot just rush up to them and hope for the best. We will have a better chance of saving Stanwyck with twenty men rather than three. Perhaps with that number, she will surrender before there is any bloodshed.”
“We should speed ahead, find them and hinder them from progressing to Axendra any farther- assuming Protector Stanwyck is still alive.” Hadrian replied.
“And if he is not?” Lord Ivran asked with skepticism.
“We follow them until the others catch us up, then we attack. They cannot be too far behind us. They only stopped long enough for food and drink and I am certain they will ride as quickly as they can to find us.”
Lord Ivran nodded his head in agreement. “Let us be hasty then. At least knowing the well-being of Protector Stanwyck would put my mind at some ease, even if we cannot fight the High Protector yet.”
The three men all kicked their horses into a run at the same time. They pressed their powerful legs forward, feeling their riders’ urgency. The indigo of dusk finally died away, leaving nothing but darkness to surround them. Lord Ivran was pleased, however, when he saw the light of the moon to guide their way. The night before had been so drastically dark, there would be no finding their way through its thickness.
Another hour passed and they could feel their horses finally begin to slow down against their will. The beasts gasped and grunted in exhaustion and they had no choice but to slow down once again. The horses, being the determined beasts they were, continued on at as quick a pace as they could muster. But Lord Ivran knew if they did not stop soon, the poor beasts would fall over, unable to carry their weight any longer.
“Men…” he began to tell them he wished to rest but stopped suddenly when the silhouette of a man emerged from the darkness. Lord Ivran pulled on his reins to stop his horse and the other two did the same as well.
“Who goes there?” Lord Ivran called into the dark and waited for a reply. The man said nothing but kept walking towards them. When he reached Lord Ivran, he stopped and placed a hand on his horse, breathing heavily from exhaustion and wiping away at the blood that drizzled down his face.
“Water.” Was the only word that managed to escape Protector Stanwyck’s lips before he collapsed.
A little while later, Lord Ivran’s men came riding up behind them. He ordered them to find a suitable spot off the side of the road for a camp and to build a fire and lay down enough blankets for Protector Stanwyck to lie comfortably on. Lord Ivran helped the poor man out of his boots and leather jerkin and set his head gently upon the feather blanket as though he were setting down a sleeping child. He turned and asked for some light from the fire and before he knew it, Aiduin was at his side with a lit torch. Lord Ivran grasped Protector Stanwyck by the chin and turned his head slightly to get a better look at his wound.
From the look of the wound, Lord Ivran could see that he had been struck with a blunt object- a rock or a stick perhaps. But the blow had been just hard enough to tear a hole in his flesh and there was no denying it needed to be stitched back together. He knew the exact person for the job- Meira. She had been gifted with a steady hand and had spent many of her younger years tending to the wounded. For now, Lord Ivran would have to wrap the wound as best he could. It seemed it had stopped bleeding for the time being which put Ivran’s worry at ease a little.
“I need water, any kind of spirit you can find, and a bandage or cloth, now!” He turned and shouted to his men who were hastily trying to set up beds for themselves. Each of them stopped what they were doing and began searching through their bags for the items Lord Ivran requested. A few moments later, he had all three in his hands and he wasted no time in pulling the cap away from the bottle of clear spirit. He held it over Protector Stanwyck’s wound and gently poured a steady stream over it. Stanwyck winced in pain but he never made a sound or objected. He remained on his back, trying to lie as still as possible. When Lord Ivran was finished cleaning the wound, he told Aiduin to lift Stanwyck’s head and began wrapping the cloth around it tightly. Aiduin continued to hold Stanwyck’s head as Lord Ivran reached for the waterskin. He pulled the lid off and held it to Stanwyck’s lips. Stanwyck drank the entire contents of the waterskin like he had not had water in days. He drank so hastily, water dripped down the front of his chest and onto the blankets below. When it was gone, Stanwyck sighed with relief and Aiduin set his head back down.
Stanwyck opened his eyes to look directly at Lord Ivran. “Thank you.” He whispered before closing his eyes once more and falling into what seemed to be a much needed rest.
Lord Ivran gave Aiduin a sideways glance before getting to his feet and walking towards the fire that now burned brightly against the darkened sky. Aiduin reluctantly followed, glancing back at Stanwyck every few paces.
Lord Ivran took a seat in the dirt next to Hadrian, and Aiduin sat on the other side of him. A few other men sat across the fire, silently staring at Lord Ivran, waiting for an explanation it would seem. Lord Ivran kept his gaze to the fire and did not speak.
“What do you suppose happened?” Aiduin asked, finally breaking the silence between them.
Hadrian leaned forward so he could make eye contact with Aiduin as he spoke. “Isn’t it obvious? Protector Stanwyck must have figured out who he was traveling with and fought them.”
Lord Ivran shook his head. “If he had fought them, he would be dead. Instead he walks with a mere scratch upon his brow. No, he did not fight. Something else must have happened to him.” Lord Ivran’s words trailed off as though he was speaking only to himself and not a group of men.
Aiduin nodded his head in agreement, knowing that what Lord Ivran said must be true. He knew Stanwyck was a fearless warrior and very skilled, but even he would n
ot be able to fight the High Protector and her Captain all on his own.
“Then where is the High Protector?” Hadrian asked with worry in his voice. “If it was she who injured him, wouldn’t she have followed? She would not allow him to walk away, would she?”
“Doubtful.” Lord Ivran admitted. “Tis strange indeed but we will not know what happened until the ‘morn. I had planned to ask Stanwyck but the poor man has succumbed to his exhaustion.”
Lord Ivran stood and looked down to Aiduin and Hadrian. “It has been a long two days. I am going to rest and I suggest that you both do the same. These men can stand watch.” He said this while pointing to the others sitting around the fire. With that, he turned and walked towards his blankets and found that someone had been kind enough to lay them out for him. He pulled the top blanket down and crawled in between them, shifting his back so that he was not lying on any rocks. He pulled his sword from the belt strap and kept it hidden underneath the blanket with him, just in case Rhada returned, he would be ready to greet her.
The moment Lord Ivran closed his eyes, he fell into as deep a sleep as Protector Stanwyck had. He dreamt of riding atop his horse- sword drawn and ready to strike down the foe he chased after. The horseman in front of him pressed on, never letting Lord Ivran catch him up, but Ivran did not give up the pursuit. He pushed his horse faster and faster, but no matter how fast he ran, he could not catch the rider. Then suddenly, the rider disappeared into a great cloud of fog and as Lord Ivran approached the fog, he slowed his horse to a trot and entered cautiously.
The fog was thick and surrounded him with a dread he had never felt before in his life. He stopped his horse and dismounted, searching through the cloud for any sign of his prey, but suddenly a cold hand grasped him by the throat, causing his entire body to freeze and knocking him off his feet. He felt the grip of his sword loosen and watched helplessly as it dropped to the ground and away from his reach. He gasped for air but found that the cold had seized his ability to breathe.
Rise of Darkness (The Watchers Book 2) Page 10
