The Ranger's Sorrow: The King's Ranger Book 4

by AC Cobble

  As the sprawling compound came into sight, Rew wondered who had built all of those towers. The arcanists themselves had a tendency to abhor manual labor unless it was directly related to some dangerous magical experiment, and the women in the colony certainly had no interest in constructing such impractical buildings.

  Those women barely had any interest in providing their services to the arcanists at all, but the learned men, with fat purses from the king’s coffers, paid far too much for the women to ignore the opportunity.

  “The king funds all of this?” wondered Raif, observing the top of the hill where the Arcanum perched. Three dozen towers stuck up erratically from the lower stone buildings at their feet. There was a low wall surrounding it all, capped with a forest of black iron spikes. It hid much of the lower buildings except several large structures that had the blocky look of soldiers’ barracks, though Rew knew those buildings were designed to house the sometimes-voluminous apparatus the scholars used to conduct their research. From at least one of those structures, slender curls of vibrant purple smoke drifted into the air.

  Rew nodded his head. “Aye, it’s all funded by the king. He, of course, gets the first look at any research they produce. If it’s good, he’ll keep it for himself. If it’s not, they’re allowed to share it with the kingdom, though realistically, that just means with all of the arcanists scattered around Vaeldon in the nobles’ courts. No one else has time to read all of that feverish scribbling.”

  A quarter league from the Arcanum, halfway up the hill it crowned, sat a neat-looking village comprised of hundreds of small cottages and dormitories. It was poised close enough to the Arcanum to make travel between them easy, but far enough below that it would be out of the blast radius of any experiments gone awry.

  Farther below the colony and hidden by the surrounding folds of land, at the base of the hill, were twin towers and a massive gate that guarded the path to the Arcanum. The paired forts looked like nosy siblings, thought Rew. They were fashioned of dark stone, nearly black, and were spanned by a gate that would be difficult to storm even with several hundred men and a battering ram. It would be far easier to simply walk around the towers, but Rew supposed the fort had been placed there as much for the message it sent as the practical defensive nature of the structure. The towers and gate were meant to show the Arcanum was protected by the king, and anyone who went around them to attack the scholars faced the consequences of crossing Vaisius Morden.

  “Do you think we’ll be able to talk our way inside?” asked Raif, looking at the dark stone of the fort. “Are we in the Western or the Northern Province? If it’s Calb’s men, they may not yet know—“

  “These are king’s men, lad, and as long as the king hasn’t given instructions to arrest us on sight, we’ll have no problem at the gate,” replied Rew. He began fishing around in his pouch for his documentation. “No king’s man will deny the passage of a ranger.”

  “What was that you said?” asked Raif, suddenly turning to Rew. “Instructions to arrest us?”

  “Cinda did raise thousands of corpses and marched them out of the king’s crypt,” reminded Rew, “and then we killed one of the king’s sons. I’m not sure if there’s a law specifically codified to forbid the raising of corpses, but surely killing a prince is not legal.”

  Raif blanched.

  “We’re better off finding out now if the king has put a price on our heads,” claimed Rew. He gestured to the twin keeps in front of them. “There are certainly more men in there than I’m interested in fighting, but it’s better than facing the king himself, eh? If something happens, shout if you see anyone headed toward the Arcanum. They have portal stones to Mordenhold and elsewhere, and that’s our true worry.”

  “This is seeming like a worse and worse idea,” mentioned Zaine.

  “We all agreed that Cinda needs to learn, and where else but the Arcanum? We’re running out of friendly necromancers to recruit.”

  Rew felt the tension rising around him as they walked closer to the paired forts, but it was only relief he felt rush through his own body when they finally made it in front of the imposing structures and saw the two men standing in the open gate that led between the stone towers.

  Anne let out a wordless cry of glee and ran forward, scooping one of the two men in her arms, hugging him tight enough his eyes seemed to bulge out. Then, she shoved him away, as if looking him up and down as if to check for injuries or see how tall he’d grown. Over his objections, she granted the second man the same treatment.

  “Twins,” murmured the nameless woman, watching the display curiously.

  “Ranger, are those…” began Cinda.

  “Aye,” confirmed Rew. He strode forward and grasped the first man’s forearm, giving it a firm pump. “Good to see you.”

  The second man, free of Anne’s clutches, leaned forward and slapped Rew on the shoulder. “Unexpected, but good.”

  Rew gripped that man’s forearm as well and replied, “Unexpected. That goes for both of us. What are you doing in the west?”

  “Are you not going to… hug or something?” interjected Anne.

  The three men turned to her, shifting uncomfortably. The movement brought with it the rustle of steel, and Rew noticed that beneath black tunics, the two men were wearing dark gray chainmail.

  “You’re soldiers now?”

  The first man turned, displaying a crimson badge of rank on his shoulder. “Captains.”

  “Co-captains,” added the second man, grinning. “I don’t think this garrison has ever had co-captains before, but we told them we operate as a team and would rather stay in Eastwatch if they thought to split us up.”

  “We’d have rather stayed in Eastwatch regardless,” murmured the first man quietly, “but when the kings asks, you go. It didn’t feel much like asking, if you know what I mean. We spent what leverage we had gaining a posting together and were glad they listened to that small demand.”

  The two men, twins, were quiet for a moment.

  Finally, the first asked, “You heard about Vyar?”

  “I did,” said Rew. He paused then asked, “What are they saying about him?”

  “Said he ran afoul of the king…” murmured the second man, studying Rew’s reaction. “Tensions were high, and then he was killed. The story is that no one knows what happened to the body, which means everyone can guess what happened to the body. The rangers had already been muttering amongst ourselves. That didn’t help, and the king must have felt the heat rising. He shook things up, and... well, we’re here, now.”

  “Ang and Vurcell,” burst Cinda. “The two brothers from Eastwatch! I knew I recognized you. The armor and tabard threw me, but you haven’t changed a bit otherwise.”

  “Aye, lass,” said Ang. He tapped his chest and said his name then indicated his brother.

  “You can tell them apart from their weapons,” said Anne.

  “Other ways as well,” declared Vurcell, winking at the empath.

  “My girls back at the inn told me,” remarked Anne drolly. “I don’t think we need to get into that, do we?”

  The twins grinned and nodded. The nameless woman looked interested.

  Ang wore a swordstaff slung across his back. It was the height of a man, a third of its length sharp steel, the rest a wooden haft. Vurcell carried a falchion on his side. Well made, but no frills or ornamentation. Both twins had glossy black hair bound into buns atop their heads, and they looked as comfortable in the black livery and armor of the king’s legion as they had in the soft brown and gray of the king’s rangers.

  Ang tilted his head, studying Cinda, then drawled, “You, on the other hand, have changed quite a bit. You’ve the eyes to match those robes.”

  Ang glanced at Rew, suddenly less at ease than he had been before.

  Vurcell spoke up for the both of them. “It appears we need to talk.”

  “We do,” agreed Rew. “About Vyar. About… a lot. Best if it’s just us, you understand? Not all of the king
’s men will appreciate what I have to say, and I’d rather they not get a look at our faces up close.”

  “It’s never easy with you, is it?”

  “Blessed Mother, I’ve missed you two,” cried Anne. “I can’t tell you what it’s been like traveling with this man and without another soul to complain to.”

  Smirking, the twins turned and led the party through a narrow stone arch and into one of the two towers. Rew and the others followed, the ranger privately grousing about Anne’s last comment. No one to complain to? From what he remembered of their journey, she’d certainly had no problem with that…

  Ang took them up several flights of stairs and down a bare hallway to a large room which appeared to be the twins’ office. There was little in the way of decorations, but it had two small desks with chairs beside them and narrow windows looking up at the women’s colony and the Arcanum beyond. There was a long, ancient table which Ang explained was where the officers took their meals and conducted meetings, though there was little to discuss except training, organizing provisions, and keeping the men from visiting the women’s colony and bothering the residents at night.

  “Not many dignitaries here,” said Vurcell, apologizing for the utilitarian furnishings. “There are portal stones in the Arcanum, and most arrivals from Mordenhold or the provincial capitals stay up there when they visit. Since we’ve been here, we’ve only seen the Lieutenant General twice, and one of those times was when he dropped us off. We appreciate our independence, but he’s not the leader you are, Rew.”

  “Was. The leader I was,” corrected Rew.

  Vurcell shrugged. “Times are changing, but if you ask, we’ll follow.”

  “How did you end up getting posted here?” wondered Rew, ignoring the comment and taking a seat at the table opposite his two former rangers.

  “When Blythe received your letter in the post, she sent to Mordenhold requesting replacements for you and… and for Tate and Jon,” said Ang, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes before continuing. “We got the replacements and a bit more. Blythe was named Senior Ranger, and they gave her half a dozen fresh recruits yanked from the king’s forces. Vurcell and I were taken to Mordenhold and told we were joining the king’s army. It wasn’t framed as a question. As I said, we pressured them to post us together, and that was that. I’d have rather have stayed in Eastwatch, but it’s quiet enough here. Better than remaining in Mordenhold, which is where they’re keeping most of the rangers at the moment until they figure out new assignments.”

  “Most of the rangers? New assignments?”

  “Been a lot going on, Rew. The rangers are talking. The king’s trying to tamp it down without causing too much obvious disruption.”

  “Why’d they put you here?” wondered Rew.

  “Don’t think we deserve the captain’s shield?” asked Vurcell with a wink.

  “I know you deserve it, but the Arcanum? No one’s attacked this place in centuries. No one’s attacked it ever, I guess. There’s no threat of Dark Kind, nothing. It’s a waste of your skill.”

  “A different kind of skill,” responded Ang, touching the side of his nose. “Things have been strange up at the Arcanum. You know we’ve a sensitivity.”

  “Part of why I recruited you,” responded Rew, frowning. Things had been strange?

  “They had to put us somewhere,” added Vurcell. “We’d been sent to Mordenhold first, and it was getting uncomfortable there. We weren’t sticking our noses out too far, you understand, but the other rangers had questions, and we gave honest answers. They were upset about Vyar. Thought you ought to be his natural replacement. No one could find you, but there were rumors. We were told to keep quiet, to not comment, but that only made everyone more curious. We tried to walk a straight line and didn’t do anything leadership could complain about, but we were becoming a focus of dissent. The king didn’t want more martyrs, but he didn’t want us hanging around any longer, either.”

  “Tell me more about this,” asked Rew. “The rangers are discontent?”

  Despite sharing a commander, the men and women in the king’s rangers were a loose collection of individuals more than they were a cohesive team. They were scattered across the kingdom, faced different challenges, and held different responsibilities. Most of the time they had no contact with each other. When they did, it was brief and usually only at some ceremony or another. The only things they had in common were incredible skill and the courage to face whatever the world threw at them. In the spoken histories they shared when they did meet each other, there’d been other times they’d been… discontent. It had never ended well.

  “More and more often, the rangers have been asked to do things they aren’t comfortable with,” explained Ang. “We were lucky in the east because of you, I suppose. Elsewhere… they’ve been asked to move against political enemies, and their warnings about rising threats of the Dark Kind and other dangers are being ignored. It’s the worst it’s been in two hundred years, according to some. The rangers started talking months ago. In response, Vaisius Morden has been moving us around like pieces on a Kings and Queens board. He’s taken rangers out of the field and moved us to remote postings. He put a few people behind desks. You can guess how everyone felt about that. It’s not the same as when we began. I worry it’s the end of us, truly. For some, Rew, that can’t come soon enough.”

  Frowning, Rew scratched his beard. That sort of talk was dangerous. “If the king is trying to break up the rangers, and you’ve been the focus of some of it, I’m surprised he agreed to let you two stay together.”

  “Pfah, we haven’t been the focus of anything. You’ve been the focus, Rew, but they all think we know what you’ve been up to,” responded Ang. “Besides, there’s a bit of a unique situation here. There is more to the posting than just trying to shuffle us out of sight, though I can’t think they were sad about that bit.”

  Vurcell nodded his head toward the window that overlooked the Arcanum. “Told you it’s been strange up there. Soldiers have gone missing. The king’s own legion, Rew, vanished inside of those walls. The previous captain went inside to investigate, and now, he’s gone too.”

  Rew blinked at the former ranger. “The king…”

  “I imagine the king’s aware of what’s happening in there, though he hasn’t shared that with us. No, we’re here to monitor the situation and let ‘em know back in Mordenhold if anything changes. Our sensitivity, you see. That’s what drove us out of Mordenhold and into Eastwatch all those years ago in the first place. Couldn’t stand the feel of the capital, like spiders crawling over our backs every time some spellcaster in the creche started flinging spells. During this last stretch in Mordenhold, it was worse. The king’s arcanists were constantly fiddling with magic they didn’t understand and couldn’t control. Between that and everything else going on with the rangers, we were ready to leave, one way or the other. This posting was a compromise. King got the use of our sensitivity, and we didn’t have to worry about executions for deserting.”

  “It’s not the wilderness,” said Vurcell. “The quiet there was like a balm on our souls, but this place isn’t Mordenhold, either. It worked out, in a way.”

  “So… you’re watching and waiting?”

  The twins nodded simultaneously.

  “The king’s eyes, eh,” said Rew.

  “Come on now,” protested Ang. “What else were we supposed to do? We’re in the king’s service still, and far from retirement. There’s only one way out of that contract. With the others constantly asking us questions, I’ve no doubt we would have ended up dangling sooner or later. Besides, it’s not like we’re being asked to do the things the others are being asked to do.”

  “The things you used to do,” added Vurcell pointedly.

  Rew grunted and cleared his throat. “So, ah, what is going on up there?”

  Ang pursed his lips and folded his arms over his chest. “We haven’t been inside the compound. Our instructions have been to monitor from
afar. There’s a darkness over that place that never brightens. I don’t know what exactly they’re doing, but it’s not high magic. Not like we know it. It’s something different, something I haven’t felt before. Necromantic… but different.”

  “And all the king is doing is having you watch the place?”

  Shrugging, the former ranger responded, “Aye, as far as we can tell. He knows something is happening up there, or we wouldn’t have been stationed in this place, but aside from bringing us here, I don’t think he’s done anything about it. Maybe he’s too busy with the Investiture. We were told to report if that sense of darkness leaves the compound or swells for more than an hour or two. It… comes in bursts. Sometimes, nothing for days, but then there’ll be a time with quarter-hour surges. It’s gotta be some experiment they’re conducting that flares enough we can feel it all the way down here.”

  “How do you report back?”

  Vurcell stood and moved to his desk where he pointed to a small mirror resting on a stand. “It’s enchanted, a paired set with one in Mordenhold. Once a week, it flickers to life, and if necessary we can light it up the other way and talk to whoever is on that side. We haven’t had to use it except for the scheduled visits, but we’ve only been here a month.”

  Rew grunted. He stood and walked to the window, peering up at the Arcanum in the distance. “It’s not high magic you feel?”

  “It’s got the flavor, but it’s off,” answered Ang. “Like biting into a piece of spoiled meat.”

  “It’s curious the king lost most of a company up there and hasn’t sent anyone to investigate.”

  Vurcell laughed. “We haven’t argued about that. They told us to stay away, so we’ll stay away and be happy doing it. Whatever is going on up there isn’t natural.”