Darshan,
Your path is clear and we wish you speed on your journey. We would have stayed to see you and Kaylia off, but Felsafell did not want to draw more Vrykol down on you, and my presence would certainly have done that. Felsafell and I must flee in order to avoid the agents of the betrayer, so we may not see you again until this horrible conflict is done. I wish I had more wisdom to give you other than this - stay close to those who love you. I intend to do the same. I do hope we will meet again before our time is at an end, but if we do not, know that all our hopes are with you. Your heart is indeed true, and that is a weapon your enemy will never possess.
With sincere wishes,
Basanti
PS. Felsafell reminds you of the key he once gave you, and hopes that you have not lost it.
Gewey refolded the paper and reached into his pouch. There he found the tiny silver key Felsafell had given to him when they were standing outside the Chamber of the Maker. After nearly leaving it behind on several occasions, he was now very glad that he had not.
As Kaylia began to stir, he noticed their packs beside the front door, as well as two plates of bacon and bread on the table.
“Good morning,” she said, stretching her arms wide.
Gewey showed her the letter. “I still have the key, though I have no idea what it’s for.”
Kaylia shrugged. “I am sure you will figure it out when the time comes.”
They ate their breakfast and left the house. A light snow was now falling, but the wind was still. Gewey reached out with the flow to see if foes were about. Unable to detect any, he sighed with relief.
“What route shall we take?” asked Kaylia.
“There is a town two days’ walk away once we reach the Old Santismal Road. I have enough coin with me to purchase horses. From there we should head due east and cross the Goodbranch just south of Helenia.”
“We could run faster than horses can carry us,” objected Kaylia.
Gewey scowled. “As you also carry our child, I would prefer you ride.”
Kaylia glared daggers at him, sending waves of anger through their bond. “You apparently know nothing of elf women. When we are with child, our strength and endurance doubles. I would be able to run until the day I give birth if I desired.”
Gewey searched for a suitable response, but none came quickly to mind. Sighing, he shook his head. “Then I have no choice, do I?”
“Finally, a sign of intelligence,” said Kaylia. Her anger lessened as she took his hand. “I swear to you that I will do nothing to harm myself or our child. But you must remember that your experience, if you have any at all, is with human women. An elf is very different.”
“I believe you,” said Gewey. “And I trust you. However, I still think it would be better to ride until we reach the other side of the Goodbranch, if for no other reason than we will attract less attention. From there on, if you wish to run, I will not object.”
Kaylia pursed her lips, but finally nodded her agreement.
They began by heading east through the thinnest part of the forest, then, after finding a lightly worn trail, switched south. At first they walked, but after an hour Kaylia glanced across at Gewey, a mischievous grin on her face. Before he knew it she was speeding away from him at a dead run. He could feel the flow racing through her. And even though he was using it too, it still took him more than two minutes to close the gap between them. But her game was not over yet. The moment he drew within touching distance she let out a loud laugh and ran even faster. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through her and couldn’t help but join in with her laughter. The forest whizzed by for more than three hours until they eventually reached the road.
“Feel better?” asked Gewey playfully.
“I do,” she replied. “But you look out of breath.”
They both laughed some more and held each other for a short while before moving on. The road was quite busy considering the season. They passed several traders and craftsmen along the way, but were thankful to see no soldiers about.
The first night they made camp in a small forest clearing just away from the road. Gewey quickly set about drying the ground and building a small fire. Felsafell had packed them enough dried fruit and jerky to last at least a week, and as they huddled together, the wine warmed their bellies.
Knowing that each step took them closer to their enemy, Gewey was unable to sleep. Though he had no doubt that they could deal with a few troops, he didn’t relish the idea of traveling through the heart of enemy territory with an entire army on the lookout for them. By now Kaylia had donned her headscarf and was also wearing her hood.
They reckoned to reach the village of Charo by the next afternoon, and from there onward Gewey felt he could be a bit more at ease. Two people on horseback would attract far less attention than two fools tramping through the snow.
“You know there are ruins to the south,” said Kaylia. “And hidden roads that lead far enough east to conceal us for many miles.”
“Are you suggesting we bypass Charo?” he asked.
“Perhaps,” she replied sleepily. “The roads are too rough and weathered for horseback. They were used long ago by Felsafell’s people I would imagine. Humans fear the spirits that are said to dwell there, and the elves only use it as a respite when traveling. Angrääl soldiers certainly would not be there.”
“The Vrykol might,” countered Gewey.
“Yes,” agreed Kaylia. “But they could be anywhere. Even along this road. At least there we would not attract notice if we had to fight.”
“Your mind is set on this, isn’t it?” he said, sighing.
Kaylia didn’t respond, and soon her breathing was slow and even. Gewey kept watch until the dawn, all the while listening to the sounds of the forest.
Kaylia woke looking invigorated. “So the ruins it is?”
Gewey chuckled. “As you wish, my love.”
The forest south of the Old Santismal Road was considerably less dense than the woods of the Spirit Hills. Kaylia had said that they could easily reach the ruins by mid-afternoon, and that the road east would leave them six days from Helenia.
They wound through the woods at a quick jog. After a few hours Gewey began to notice pieces of broken granite from long forgotten buildings protruding from the earth. It was just past noon when they came upon a large clearing. In the center stood a ring of white marble columns, each one twenty feet tall. Within the ring was a smooth black tile floor that gleamed and shone as if time and weather had never touched it.
“I wonder what this was?” mused Gewey. The hairs on his neck stood up as he felt the presence of eight elves approaching from the south. He reached for his blade, but Kaylia grabbed his arm.
“They are from the Steppes,” she said. “I do not think they mean us harm.”
As she spoke he remembered the healer who had told Kaylia of her pregnancy. She had mentioned then that they were in search of the ruins. He looked at Kaylia with irritation. “You knew they would be here, didn’t you?”
“I thought they might be,” she admitted. “Wait here. I will speak with them alone.” She walked toward the columns.
When she reached them, a single elf appeared from the tree line and joined her. Gewey could feel that she was relaxed and sure of herself as she spoke, though he chose not to listen in on the conversation, focusing instead on the other elves who were waiting just out of sight.
After a short talk, Kaylia returned. “They have warned us to stay clear of the ruins. They have seen Vrykol in the area and fear attack. Only a few elves still remain. The rest have continued east.”
“What about those?” said Gewey, nodding his head south. “Why are they still here?”
“They have decided to return to the west and seek refuge among my kin.” Her voice was compassionate and sad. “They are a lost people with nowhere to call home. If we had come a day later, they too would have been gone.”
“Then I think we should heed their advice and avoid
the ruins,” said Gewey. He stretched his senses to their limits. No Vrykol.
“We can still use the road,” said Kaylia.
“Then you will get your wish,” said Gewey. “We will run.”
“Follow me,” she responded, flashing a smile. “I know the way.”
For two more hours they raced through the forest until reaching the ancient road. Grass and weeds sprang forth through the cobbled stones, and small chunks of rock were scattered all along their path. In spite of there being snow covering the landscape on either side, only a few small patches of white had settled on the relatively flat and even surface of the road itself. Without hesitation they turned east, their power and skill enabling them to navigate the minor obstacles caused by eons of neglect. As they ran, Gewey actually began regretting that they would not get to see the ruins.
They stopped to eat just past midday. Kaylia’s speed and endurance had left him amazed.
“You were certainly right about elf women,” he remarked while munching on a strip of jerky. “I’ve never seen you run so fast for so long.”
Kaylia grinned and tossed him a flask of water. “There is still much for you to learn if you are to be a good unorem. And I know you wanted to see the ruins, so you will be happy when I tell you there are others further along this road, though they are not quite as grand. We should reach them by nightfall.”
Gewey couldn’t help but feel excited. “I wonder if it really was Felsafell’s folk who built them.”
“If we see him again, we will ask.”
They continued on for a few more hours, Kaylia growing stronger with each step. Then, just as the sun was dipping below the tree line, almost in unison their faces twisted in disgust. The foul presence of Vrykol was close. Skidding to a halt, they ducked into the nearby brush and drew their weapons.
“There are hundreds,” whispered Gewey. He could virtually see them - a mass of Vrykol, twisting and writhing like a pit of vipers. He concentrated even harder. There were also humans among their number, but not soldiers. He could feel their fear and despair. After a time, he decided to risk touching one of their minds.
“Slaves,” he said after a moment. “The Vrykol have human slaves.” His fury began to rise and boil, but one look at Kaylia calmed him. “We should go around.”
“I think we should see why they gather in such great number,” countered Kaylia. “And why the Vrykol need slaves.”
“We can’t risk it,” argued Gewey. “There are too many.”
“Risk what?” she argued. “If we are seen there is no way they could catch us. Besides, we will not be seen.”
Gewey clenched his jaw, but could feel her determination. “Then we wait for nightfall and run at the first sign of trouble.”
“Agreed,” she replied.
They waited in the brush until just past midnight. The Vrykol were about a mile ahead, and despite their vast number appeared to be contained in a very small area. Gewey touched the minds of the slaves several times but could gather little more than their sheer terror. Some were so broken that their inner voices were nothing more than a constant scream.
They checked their weapons before creeping forward through the shadows. Gewey was reminded of when they first met, and how she had trained him to become as one with the darkness. Now she followed him, his powers far beyond any seeker alive.
It took about twenty minutes to move close enough to see where the Vrykol were located. The sight startled them. The ancient ruins had been swept aside, and in their place stood a great citadel of grey and black granite.
The curtain walls were twenty feet tall, spanned two-hundred feet in each direction, and were topped with razor sharp iron spikes. The guard towers located at each corner rose a further ten feet and bore dozens of small rectangular windows. Rising up from within the fortress, a single spire towered above all else, with only a catwalk and a single window showing at its very top. The gates were flung wide open, and the vicious points of the raised portcullis peaked down from inside the archway. Not a single light shone anywhere.
The foul stench of death and decay filled Gewey’s nostrils. Dozens of black figures stood motionless about the outer yard, mostly near the gate, but he could feel many more were inside.
The search for the human captives didn’t take him long. Thirty yards from the north wall stood a massive steel cage where at least fifty men and women were being held. They appeared to be unguarded. For a full hour he and Kaylia watched, seeing only the occasional Vrykol moving about. Otherwise, the citadel was still and quiet. Slowly, they backed away and retreated far enough not to be heard.
Gewey could feel what Kaylia was thinking before she spoke and quickly cut her off.
“We are going around,” he said, using his most commanding voice.
“And you will leave those people here to suffer and die?” she asked, appalled.
“There are too many,” he said. “There is no way to free them without being discovered, and I cannot fight so many Vrykol.”
“The humans are unguarded,” she countered. “We can release them and get away without making a sound.”
“Then they will hear the prisoners escaping,” he shot back. “We can move silently. They cannot.”
“If that happens, we can hold off the Vrykol long enough to let them get away,” Her voice was hard and unwavering. But Gewey would not be swayed. She moved in close and held his gaze.
“Why do you want to risk everything for this?” he asked, his frustration growing.
Her face softened. “Because once, not so long ago, a young farm boy did the same for me when I was held captive by bandits. At the time I thought he was a fool. But now I understand why he did it. We are fighting to free the world from this kind of evil. How can we claim to be on the side of good when we are afraid to take action in the name of that good?” She touched his cheek. “I will not leave the innocent to die. The person I was who could do that was changed by you.”
Gewey sighed, exasperated to the point of surrender. “Very well, we will try. But only on two conditions. If the alarm is raised, you must swear to run - regardless of the slaves’ fate. Also, you must let me free them alone. I want you far enough away to escape.” He reached down to touch her belly as a reminder of what they were protecting.
Kaylia started to object, but could see that it was the only way he would agree. She smiled lovingly. “I swear it.”
“Now I know what Lee must have felt like back then,” he told her, grinning.
They crept silently around the citadel until they were directly behind the cage. Gewey was grateful that there was still no sign of movement from the Vrykol. The top of the wall and the windows of the towers were all empty. Clearly they didn’t deem it necessary to keep a vigilant watch. But then, who would approach this place? There was no city nearby that could challenge them, even if their presence was known. Their overconfidence would be Gewey’s greatest ally.
The cage was about thirty yards from the tree line. Motioning for Kaylia to wait where she was, Gewey inched his way forward. The nearest Vrykol was just beneath the west tower, the rest scattered beyond. After each step he scanned for signs that he had been seen, but the cloaked figures remained still.
He was only a few feet away from the cage when he felt Kaylia’s sudden alarm and fear. Spinning around, he saw a Vrykol holding her from behind. It was pressing a dagger to her throat.
He was back to the tree line in seconds, sword drawn and with the flow raging through him. To his rear, he could hear many others moving in his direction.
“Be still, whelp,” ordered the Vrykol. “Or I will slit her throat.”
Kaylia’s eyes were defiant, but he could feel her terror growing.
“Release her or I will destroy you,” roared Gewey.
The Vrykol laughed harshly. “You arrogant fool. You thought your power could hide you from us? Now you have delivered both yourself and your elf mate into our hands. The master will be very pleased. He has sought you for so
me time.”
Twenty Vrykol were just behind him and more were on their way.
“Drop your blade,” the creature ordered. “Give yourself to us and she will live. Do it not…” He pressed the blade against Kaylia’s flesh, drawing a thin trickle of blood.
Gewey’s rage was uncontrollable. “Free her now,” he thundered.
Barely were these words out of his mouth when the power within him exploded with a force far beyond anything he had ever known before. The world around him slowed right down. He could feel his body actually rising up from the earth. Now he could see deep into the heart of the Vrykol’s corrupt spirit, and it served to fuel his rage to even greater heights. But it was not only the Vrykol holding Kaylia that he saw. He could see them all. And his hatred for these foul creatures erupted.
He no longer feared for the safety of his wife and child. Fear was something he could no longer understand. His name - his true name - echoed over and over in his mind. He was Darshan, and he would make them pay for their existence. All of them.
He could see the look of horror on Kaylia’s face, and feel her desperation through their bond. The laughter of the flow of the spirit was now a cacophony of woeful cries. The blade on Kaylia’s throat began to move just a fraction. But in the slowed down world below him, he had all the time in the world to act. Long before the blade could sink deep, he ripped the Vrykol’s spirit from its body. It writhed and squirmed in the air above him, and Gewey laughed with delight as he crushed it to nothingness.
The other creatures behind him were charging in, but his power made them seem like fumbling children. Without even looking back he reached into all of them, the flow spreading like fingers on a gruesome hand, each one piercing a Vrykol and annihilating its spirit.
He turned, and with righteous fury shouted, “I am Darshan!”
Those he had not destroyed immediately turned and fled. He could sense everything within the citadel. Hundreds of Vrykol were streaming out, hearing the dying cries of their brothers and realizing the doom that was upon them.
A Trial of Souls Page 28
