“How did you come to be in the employment of Ethna?” Ednon asked, wondering why the man had not sought retirement in his old age; did he not have a wife and children to care for?
“When duty calls, Sir, you must answer.”
“A little tamer than fighting in wars.”
“You’d be surprised, Sir.” Robles cleared his throat. “Speaking of Lady Ethna, she has asked if you would accompany me to visit her within the Temple of Yashin.”
“Why? What is it that she wants?”
“She did not say, Sir.”
“What happens if I refuse?”
“I’m afraid this is an order, Sir.”
And with that Robles stood completely still, his arms remaining behind him as he continued to stare at Ednon, who gave a loud sigh. Judging by the man’s character, he was not going to leave until Ednon had agreed to accompany him back to the temple of the forgotten God.
“Fine…” he murmured, collecting his rucksack.
“Very good, Sir.” Robles smiled faintly, before making his way, now with Ednon trailing behind, through the long stretching halls to the exit of the Grand Library.
They journeyed through the crowded streets of Asterleigh.Ednon kept his distance from the elderly Robles, who turned his head every hundred or so paces to make sure he was indeed still following. The man’s insistence on calling him “Sir” was starting to make Ednon feel uneasy. He had asked Robles to call him “Ed,” which for some reason gave the man a bewildered expression as if he could not register what it was Ednon had requested. They walked deeper into the centre of Asterleigh. Ednon had not visited this part of the capital much; this was where the wealthy and powerful resided. The houses surrounding them were massive and beautiful, rising far up into the sky. The streets were also much less populated; there appeared to be some unwritten rule that the poor and homeless could not frequent this part of the capital. He had heard stories that the military patrolled this location at night, arresting any homeless they found lying in front of the gold and diamond encrusted gates. Surely there is enough wealth to go around? Ednon thought, gazing at the towering buildings and ancient temples. In a city so filled with gold and diamonds, how could there be so many people going hungry and homeless? When the Alpelites populated this city, did they also have these problems?
“Master Ednon,” Robles spoke, still insisting on the title. “We have arrived.”
Ednon lowered his eyes to a sight he thought could only exist in fairy tales. The Temple of Yashin was astronomical, larger than any building he had ever seen before in his life. The courtyard leading to the temple was pure green and held many golden fountains, with ponds the size of Eos Lake. And straight ahead, surrounded by high golden railings, was a pathway leading over one hundred yards to the entrance of the building, which resembled a normal temple although the size of a palace. A huge marble dome was covered in copper-plate, which reflected the glow of the suns, and tall towers stood at each corner of the structure, protecting the sacred area within. That woman whom he had met by his grandfather’s grave truly lived here? He had heard rumours of this place, but never had he seen it. The class divide this side of the border did not seem to be affecting her in any negative way. The entire acreage of this place alone was probably bigger than his old village.
“Wow…” Ednon marvelled, as Robles retrieved a key from his pocket and unlocked the impressive golden gates. He stood there, holding the gate open, silently motioning for Ednon to walk through. Ednon had never seen a place like this; he had passed many mansions throughout Asterleigh, but had never entered their grounds. There were workers spread across the enormous gardens, tending to the beds of flowers, shrubs and trees. Robles led him all the way down the stone pathway and to the entrance of the temple and gave him another quick glance, before unlocking the wide gilded doors and walking through.
Ednon followed Robles. From inside, it did not resemble a temple – there were seemingly no shrines or any place of worship – but was more like an oversized house albeit with a richer and more opulent decor. Intricate glass chandeliers hung from the centre of the wide main hall that connected many different rooms. The walls were mostly a rich red, covered with numerous paintings and artistically styled sculptures. Robles led him to the end of the central hall and to the door that was the furthest away from them. He walked briskly, with Ednon once again dragging behind. Still coming to terms with what kind of fantasy dreamland he had entered, Ednon followed Robles into the next room and was shocked to see the elderly Jung sitting at a long mahogany table with Ethna opposite him. The old ex-Elder looked almost presentable compared to the last time Ednon had seen him in the underground network. He had cut his long hair, shaved his beard and was not looking utterly intoxicated. Jung seemed just as surprised to see Ednon, as he was returning his look of shock.
“Ednon!” Ethna stood up to greet him. “Do have a seat with us. I believe you already know Jung?”
“I do,” Ednon responded, unsure of what to make of the situation. Robles slipped behind him to whisper something into Ethna’s ear. She listened intently before motioning the man away.
“I think I shall be leaving,” Jung said, steadily rising to his feet.
“Ah yes, thank you, Jung. You have done your species a great service.”
Jung gave a loud snort before uttering “My species…to hell with my species… to hell with it all.” And with that he walked past, trying his best to avoid eye contact, leaving Ednon, for the second time in as many days, watching the back of the sad old man as he trudged away.
He turned his attention to Ethna and to the subservient Robles standing behind her.
“What is it that you want?”
“Do not worry about that yet, Ed. Won’t you sit down?”
He slowly obliged, taking out one of the chairs. Something did not feel right, yet, as he lifted his head to look into the fierce yet attractive face of Ethna, he could not place his finger on what it was.
“Would you like some tea, Ed?” Ethna smiled, her eyes still not wavering from his own. She really is very beautiful, Ednon thought to himself.
He felt the nerves growing inside his stomach and his face suddenly flamed red. “No… no… I’m fine, thank you… ” His eyes darted to Robles, who was standing behind her, his hand resting on the handle of his blade. What was Jung doing here? The last time he had seen the old ex-Elder, he had been making his way drunkenly back through the darkened corridors of the underground network, so what was he doing here of all places?
Ethna motioned to Robles behind her, apparently not paying attention to Ednon’s answer. “Bring us two cups of tea, Robles.”
“Right away, ma’am.”
“How are you enjoying life in Asterleigh, Ednon?”
“It’s okay… I heard this place was a temple, but I do not see shrines or anything relating to Yashin whatsoever.”
“Yes, well, we had them removed many years ago. We do not worship the primitive savages or indeed their false gods… ”
But what about Medzu? Ednon thought only to himself, deciding not to aggravate the woman further. Surely you cannot deny his existence, not when he looms over us all from the clouds?
“Horrid business, all these bombings.” She quickly changed the subject. “I hear you moved into a home quite close to Mundie’s Tavern. I’m glad to see that you are doing well.” Robles returned holding a silver tray, carrying both biscuits and the cups of tea. He gave one to Ethna, before offering a cup to Ednon, who thanked him.
Ethna took a deep sip from her cup, before carrying on with the conversation. “A young girl died in that explosion. I knew her… she was the daughter of someone who had worked under me.”
“I’m sorry,” Ednon sympathised, holding up his tea, but failing to take a sip from it. He now knew why he had been brought here, why Jung before him had also been here. His suspicions were finally confirmed wh
en Ethna asked him calmly, “If you knew anything of these attacks, you would tell me, wouldn’t you, Ed?”
It was an interrogation, a calm and subtle one, but an interrogation all the same. He sat for a moment in silence, contemplating his response. What could he say? Should he tell them the truth? The Order had killed many different people throughout the city, including the young girl. He felt himself sweat. What had Jung told them? Did they already know?
“I would…” Ednon spoke, after a period of drawn-out silence.
Ethna leaned in closer. “Good… so, Ed, what can you tell me of this underground Order?”
Ednon was shocked. She already knew? Did that mean she also knew he too had travelled down there yesterday?
Ethna noticed his surprise. “Do not be alarmed. Jung has already told us everything. We are only wanting you to reinforce his claims. You are only a child, Ed; do not worry, you will not be held accountable. But these are some very dangerous men that you have got yourself involved with. Now… what can you tell me about the man, Luther?”
He thought of his brother Syros, and what Luther had told him yesterday about the Order’s plan to lock out all the military squadrons from this land. To save his brother, this could be his only option. Conceding defeat, and finding no other path, he decided to tell them what they wanted to know. “He is a short, fat, bald man,” Ednon informed them, newly filled with guilt. “Late forties, around the same height as me, wears black shades to hide his blindness while he uses a stick to move around.”
“Do you know his second name?”
Ednon shook his head. “Please,” he said, thinking of both Abacus and Levy. “Not all of them are involved with the attacks, you must know this.”
“Do not worry, Ed, we are only after Luther. The others shall remain unharmed. All we want is for the bombings to end.”
“Could you please talk to the others and make them stop the attacks as well?”
“I will do everything that’s in my power.”
The room once again returned to silence, apart from the frantic scribblings in a small notebook emitting from Robles who was writing down all that had been said.
Ethna took another sip, before gazing back at Ednon. “Thank you, Ed. You have been most helpful.”
“I can go?”
“Of course. As I told you before, you are not responsible for these men’s actions.” And with that, she motioned to Robles standing beside her. “Show Ednon the way out, Robles.”
As he followed Robles back up the long stony pathway to the wide golden gates, he questioned what he had done, the possible repercussions and the severity of what might happen. He worried about Abacus and Levy, but mostly he was afraid for Amelia and Jernett. He also lamented over his grandfather; what would you think of what I have done, Ira? Would you have praised me? Or would that only have come from the version of you that I thought I knew? Were you in actuality more of a Luther, ready to kill all those threatening your dream? Would you have killed me for what I have done?
Ednon walked out of the gates; he glanced at old Robles, who gave back a cold and indifferent look. “Goodbye, Ed.” He slammed the gates shut, leaving Ednon alone, staring at them, the harsh sunlight reflecting from their smooth and golden surface.
16
The Endless Dreams
146 Days until the New Year
Syros and Bora journeyed through the vast mountain landscape, travelling to Ankor. What Syros would find there he did not know, but this felt like the only option he had left. He suspected that he would never be able to return to the human territories, for now he knew for certain that he would be executed for Mercivous’s murder. He touched his scarred right hand each time they stopped to rest. I hope that you are okay, Torjan, he thought, replaying the moment on the cliff over in his mind. I should have stayed and fought alongside you, but I’m a coward. He did not know whether Torjan had survived his stab wounds, but surely even if he had, they would have executed him for helping in their escape. He tried not to think about it too much, but failed often. He also thought of Saniya and her pain at losing them both. Our vow was utterly meaningless, he grieved silently. In the end it had meant absolutely nothing, just naivety and wishful thinking – and now he wandered through the emptiness of the mountains, travelling to a city where he would be a stranger to everyone. Everyone except Bora, of course. The Alpelite had tried numerous times to cheer his mood, telling him humorous stories from its childhood and ribbing him playfully. He could not deny that the Alpelite was beginning to grow on him; it was intelligent, compassionate and, most surprisingly of all, fun to be around. When he first left Asterleigh all those months ago, this was the most unlikely thing he could have ever envisaged befalling him.
They had been travelling for at least a month underneath the incandescent suns and insufferable heat, when eventually they made their way off the mountain track and onto a long stretching stony path.
“It will be only a day’s walk from this point onward,” Bora informed him. Great, Syros gloomily thought to himself. He still had no idea how they would be received at the volcanic capital of the Alpelites. Bora had told him that because Syros had saved its life, the officials of the city would look on him favourably. Nevertheless, he still felt nervous. What if the creature was lying to him? It wouldn’t be too hard for Bora to hand him over to the city officials to have him executed, or tortured for information on Zelta Squadron and the plans and movements of all the other squadrons that had been sent east. But he had no choice other than to accept what the life form had told him. He would have liked to have thought that having spent so much time with Bora he knew its true character, but he could not be certain, not entirely. The demons in the back of his mind had only grown more insistent over the past couple of weeks. He was so paranoid now that he hadn’t slept for the last few days. He needed to stay ever vigilant, if he wanted to cling onto survival.
After walking a few more miles, his feet beginning to become unbearably sore, they came across five Alpelite corpses surrounding a cart, presumably once heading towards Ankor. Bora moved closer to inspect the bodies while Syros stayed back, cautiously watching over the situation.
“What killed them? Do you think it was the humans?” Syros called uncertainly. Could they have already made it this far east? He wiped the sweat from his forehead. Is it me that they have come searching for, Raynmaher and the others, looking to enforce justice for Mercivous’s murder? But how would they know we were travelling to Ankor? He scanned their location; he could not see anyone else here, only himself and Bora along with the dead Alpelite bodies. Only empty wastelands and a few sizeable desert palms.
The Alpelite lifted its head and stared back towards him, with a look of sheer puzzlement. “The human military have never made it so close to Ankor.” Bora motioned to Syros to come nearer; reluctantly, he agreed. As he walked closer, he could see that the dead Alpelites did not appear to have stab wounds or entry marks of any kind. What they did have were stiff expressions that almost resembled smiles across their cold, motionless faces.
“No entry points,” Bora marvelled, crouching down to get a closer inspection of one of the bodies. “No blood, wounds or signs of any kind of struggle.”
“So what killed them?” As the nervousness inside Syros grew, the palm behind him gently swayed in the wind.
Bora looked back, just as perplexed. Then, a hand, from what Syros had assumed was a corpse, grabbed Bora. Syros jumped in shock, heart pounding. It faintly spoke into Bora’s ear. Bora had taught Syros some of the Alpelite language, in an attempt to quell the boredom of the constant travelling, but he was far from expert and the almost motionless Alpelite was murmuring so quietly that Syros could not properly ascertain its words.
The dying creature’s voice faded and its body returned to stillness. Bora stood up; Syros would never have expected to see this, but the greenish-brown life form’s skin had just turned a little
paler.
“What did it say?” he asked Bora hesitantly, unnerved at seeing the ever-optimistic creature in its current state.
Bora shifted his attention to the now certainly lifeless Alpelite. “It said… the ones that rise up from the ground…”
After Syros helped bury the bodies, using a shovel they found on the supply cart, they continued their walk to Ankor. The suns were going down; the night was fast approaching as they came across the grand capital of the Alpelites. Stone walls contained the city; they were so high that he could get no impression of the buildings within. They walked up to the gigantic entrance; the walls and the gate did not seem to be made from stone, but to be part of the rock-solid ground itself, making them appear very much one with the mountains that surrounded the city on each of its sides.
As they walked closer, the gates opened, allowing Bora, along with the more apprehensive than ever Syros, inside. Alpelites swarmed in the streets; even though this was merely the outskirts, there must have been thousands of the three-eyed creatures staring back at him. Ankor in many ways did not appear very different to Asterleigh, although the marketplace was filled with unfamiliar substances and items. There were no golden temples, but instead what resembled shrines made from solid rock. One thing that was different to Asterleigh was the fact that the Alpelites, of all shapes and sizes, were peering over at him speculatively.
“Do not worry, human, they won’t hurt you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I won’t let them. Your life is in my hands now. You are not the first human to ever come here, yet it is still something that is unusual for them.”
Just how many times does this happen? Syros questioned himself. How many humans over the years deserted the military to come and live with these people? He soon discovered that Bora had in fact not been lying to him, as his eyes fixed on another human being. He looked like an old man, in his late sixties; it seemed weird to Syros to see only two eyes in a sea of three. He was part of the vast Alpelite herd as if there was nothing unusual about it whatsoever. The man stared back at Syros, who did not slow down to talk as he needed to keep up with Bora, who, despite the weeks of travel, was still moving at a steady speed through the crowd.
To Tame the Sentry Being Page 16
