Aethir

by DeWayne Kunkel

  “Just go easy when we break our fast in the morning.” Casius said cutting off Connell. He did not want his friend to face D’Yana’s wrath. “How did your rumor hunt go Marcos?” He asked hoping to change the subject of conversation.

  “Several points of interest as a matter of fact.” Marcos said. “The first is the Senatum are keeping a low profile but their agents are here nonetheless.”

  “Damn spies and turncoats.” Connell remarked.

  “Exactly,” Marcos agreed. “Men who would unwittingly do the dark ones work for a few burnished coins.”

  “Then we keep watch tonight.” Connell advised. “It will be in the dead of night that they will come if they are going to do so.”

  “What is the second?” D’Yana asked.

  “From what I’ve gathered.” Marcos lowered his voice to keep their conversation private. “There was a Warlock in Parin.”

  “The one from the forest?” Casius blurted a little to loudly.

  “The same,” Marcos confirmed. “He came to Parin two months ago. In the dead of night he arrived, claiming to be an alchemist from the south. He was around forty years of age. Four weeks ago he returned from a sojourn into the forest, looking to have aged fifty years in the short time he was gone.”

  “Then the loss of his bond servant did not slay him.” Casius concluded.

  “Not immediately.” Marcos added.

  “Where is he now?” Connell asked. “Can he not bond another and recapture his youth and power?”

  Marcos put his pipe onto the table and folded his hands together. “No he cannot, he was too far gone to work such power. He has died, locked away in his room. His servants have fled, back to whatever lands they called home.”

  “There is one more piece of news from a merchant who arrived yesterday from Ao’dan. This is the gravest news to our cause should it prove to be true.” Marcos continued.

  “A civil war is brewing in Trondhiem. The prince is said to have slain his father and is now gathering an army to challenge the rule of his sister who has been named Queen.”

  “Gaelan would do no such thing!” Connell exclaimed.

  “It seems that many of the ruling lords agree with you Connell.” Marcos said. “They have thrown their lot in with him.”

  “How does this affect us?” D’Yana wondered aloud.

  “Trondhiem is the gateway to the west, D’Yana.” Marcos answered. “It is through that very realm we must pass. If there is war it will be exceedingly difficult for us to move unnoticed across the country.”

  “We must cross through the caverns warded by the citadel of Timosh to enter the western lands. If it is sealed then we will be unable to complete our quest in a timely manner.” Connell added.

  “I see Sur’kar’s hand in this,” Marcos said. “He will move his forces into Trondhiem and from there the east will fall.”

  “What of the west?” Casius asked.

  “The west has been his for generations Casius.” Marcos answered. “Those lands have felt his iron fist for ages. Only a few small pockets of resistance remain free of him, Suni’s home for one. But the Anghor have never been many and all they can do is keep him at bay. Once the east has fallen even Anghor will be overrun by his forces.”

  Connell sat staring into his tankard. “Did you learn anything of Kesh or Ril’Gambor? Where do they stand in this civil war?”

  Marcos shook his head, “Nothing.” He said. “Remember this news is several weeks old and long traveled, it may have changed in the telling. As we draw closer to Trondhiem we will learn more.”

  Casius finished his drink and stretched. The ale was strong and he felt slightly light headed. “I think I’m going to call it a night he announced.”

  “I think we should all get some rest.” Connell said agreeing with Casius’s suggestion.

  They had chosen three rooms at the end of a narrow hall. Connell and Casius shared one with two beds while D’Yana had taken the one across from them. Marcos’s room was at the very end of the hall and he bid each of them good night as he closed and locked the door.

  Suni extinguished the oil lamps plunging the hallway into darkness. The only light was from a cloud shrouded moon leaking through a tattered curtain.

  The Anghor Shok moved to the center of the hall and seated himself cross-legged upon the hard wood floor his Kalmari lying in his lap.

  Casius fell face first onto the bed it was a long while before he sat up to remove his boots. As he did so he could see Connell sitting upright in bed. Staring into the flickering flame of the oil lamp that rested on the small table at his bedside.

  “Are you all right?” Casius asked dropping his boot onto the floor. He could tell Connell was not in the best of moods and he could not figure out why.

  Connell blinked and cracked his knuckles. “It’s nothing.” He said laying back onto the down comforter.

  “Do you know the prince?” Casius asked remembering Connell’s outburst upon hearing Marcos’s news.

  Connell exhaled deeply before speaking. “That was a long time ago, Casius.” He said softly. “Gaelan and I learned the art of the sword from my father.” Connell rolled on his side and dimmed the lamp until it was nothing more than a faint glow that hardly pushed the darkness back. “Remember the tale I told you about how I received the brand?”

  “Yes,” Casius answered holding back a yawn.

  “It was Gaelan who stood with me that day in the stables.”

  Casius’s eyes snapped open in surprise. “Your cousin is the prince of Trondhiem?” He asked in amazement. “Then why do you live the life of the rouge in Lakarra?”

  “Royal families are large in the north,” Connell chuckled. “Cousins are many and not all are wealthy and live in castles. Besides I would rather earn my riches than have them handed to me.”

  Casius understood what Connell was saying. His father had told him something similar when he was young.

  “Men respect a man of honor,” His father had said pulling a net laden with fish into the rocking skiff. “Titles and wealth bring many friends who will abandon you when your fortune turns sour.” Casius smiled at the memory.

  “Do the others know this Connell?” He asked.

  “No,” He said closing his eyes. “And I would prefer it to stay that way.”

  “I will tell no-one.” Casius promised.

  “Then get some sleep,” Connell advised him.

  No sooner than Casius had closed his eyes a loud thump sounded in the corridor. He rolled out of his bed drawing his sword as the door to the room burst open.

  Two men rushed in with weapons in hand. One of the men saw Casius and hacked at him with his blade.

  Casius deflected the attack with his weapon. Sparks showered as the ringing blades ground together. His blade wove in and out seeking a break in the man’s defenses. Casius could see Connell engaging the man’s companion in the doorway.

  His sword flickered about parrying blow after blow. His opponent made a viscous lunge and for a brief instant his guard was down.

  Casius thrust his sword forward and buried the blade almost to the hilt just below his assailant’s rib cage. Wrenching his sword free he watched in horror as the man fell backwards, blood spurting from the wound.

  A third man leapt over his dead companion. Casius met his charge head on. Anger fueled his arm and the new attacker was franticly trying to stave of the fury of his attacks.

  Casius’s sword moved as if it were a living thing. Striking in a lightning swift pattern of attacks. Two times it had grazed the man opening deep cuts on his shoulder and forearm.

  Casius pressed the man back until he was in the doorway. The man was furious and brought his sword down seeking to cut Casius in twain.

  Sidestepping he avoided the descending steel and brought his own blade about in a sweeping arc that nearly severed his opponents head.

  Metal clanged as the sword dropped from the dying man’s hand. A gurgling sound escaped his mouth bringing with it a founta
in of dark blood that splashed onto his chest.

  Casius stepped back as the man fell to the floor his lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling.

  Casius turned in time to see Connell pulling his sword from the dead man draped across his bed. Casius covered his mouth in revulsion; the room reeked of bile and excrement. He looked at his gore covered arm and chest and nearly retched.

  Stepping through the doorway to escape the smell he nearly fell over the body of a man in the gloom.

  Six men lay dead in the hallway, two lay dead at D’Yana’s doorway. She stood over them breathing deeply, her long knives dripping blood onto the corpses.

  Casius averted his eyes; D’Yana wore only a very revealing linen robe.

  The remaining dead men bore no obvious wounds, but by the positions of their bodies he could tell they had died violently.

  Marcos stepped out of his room and moved among the bodies checking for signs of life.

  “Where’s Suni?” Connell asked taking in the grisly scene with a glance.

  “He chased another down the stairs.” D’Yana answered grabbing Connell’s arm to stop him from going after the Anghor Shok. “Connell,” She whispered urgently. “He killed four men with his bare hands.”

  Connell looked back at the fallen men. “They were armed?”

  “He moved like a tempest, striking with incredible speed and skill. Those men never stood a chance. I have seen many fights Connell, but never have I beheld such power and skill.”

  “Remember the Troll, D’Yana.” Connell reminded her. “Nothing he does should surprise us.”

  Suni appeared at the top of the stairs. He was calm and relaxed and looked as if nothing untoward had happened. He moved silently in the darkness surprising everyone but Marcos.

  “Where is the other man?” Marcos asked even though he already knew the answer.

  “Dead,” Suni replied simply. “I pursued him into the stables, once cornered he turned to fight but I proved to be the more skilled at combat.”

  “Fortunately he was alone.” Connell commented. “It was not very wise for you to run him down. He could have led you into a trap. There may have been more of these assassins lying in wait.”

  “Then they all would now be dead.” Suni replied cutting him off. “Marcos while I dispatched the last of our attackers I saw a shadow in the yard. It was darker than the night and faded into the gloom once I laid eyes upon it. I searched the ground where it had stood but found no spoor, and the air reeked as if something had gone to rot.”

  “Balhain!” Marcos exclaimed. “These men have openly allied themselves with Sur’kar.” Marcos stood and looked at Connell. “This proves my assumption, He is seeking your destruction. Had the Balhain known I was present he would have attacked, instead of sending these henchmen.”

  “Once we are at sea he will lose his sight, for there will be no spies about to lead him to us.” Connell said.

  “We should go to the docks then.” Casius suggested not wishing to spend another minute in the presence of so many dead men. “If the ships ready we may be able to convince Captain Shane to set sail.”

  “That would be best,” Marcos said approvingly. “Our enemy knows we are here and may come again in force.”

  “Then let us make haste.” Connell said sheathing his blade. “Our time may be short.”

  Casius entered his room taking care not to put his bare feet into the pools of drying gore. He sat on his bed ignoring the bodies and pulled on his boots.

  Connell stepped into the room and retrieved his saddlebags. “You did well Casius.” He said praising his friend’s skill.

  Casius grabbed his own gear and stood. “I was scared to death, Connell.” He admitted somewhat disgusted with himself.

  “You killed two men who sought to take your life. There is no shame in that.” Connell said. “Embrace your fear, it is healthy and can serve you well.” Connell stepped from the room. “Come, the others are waiting.”

  Casius stepped over the bodies and followed his friend down the stairs. They passed a terrified Redeff who was cowering in the corner clutching a wooden club in his fist.

  Marcos tossed another coin at the frightened mans feet. “For your inconvenience.” He said as he passed.

  Redeff may have been terrified, but not too frightened to hastily snatch the gold from the floor.

  The stable boys were somewhat annoyed at having been awakened at such an early hour, but they held their tongues after seeing the body of the assassin Suni had slain.

  Within a few minutes they galloped out of the stables. The horses’ hooves muffled by the damp mud of the street. Connell had taken the lead; mounted upon his massive stallion, he was a monstrous shadow in the dark. Between the darkened buildings they raced, slowing only when they neared the waterfront.

  The Vessels were dark, hulking shadows standing silent in the darkness. All save one, bright lanterns burned on her deck, swaying gently with the lapping waves.

  Thundering out onto the pier they dismounted when they came to Shane’s ship. It was a sea worthy vessel sixty feet in length with a single mast rising out of the open hold amidships.

  Shane burst into view, running up out of the hold, his two sons following after. “By the gods people!” He shouted, surprised to see that it was them that caused the commotion he had heard. “What are you about at this hour?”

  “A slight change in plans, good captain.” Marcos said dismounting. “How soon can we depart?”

  Shane looked puzzled, “As soon as your animals are loaded we can depart.” He motioned for his sons to step forward and see to the loading of the horses.

  Marcos handed the reins of his horse to one of the boys and walked across the gangplank. “It seems the price on Connell’s head enticed a few men to attempt collecting it.”

  Shane’s brow furrowed in anger, he shot a quick glance shoreward. “Murderous scum.” He muttered under his breath. “Get them aboard quickly boys.” He ordered his sons. “No sense waiting around for trouble.”

  The burly captain nodded to a weathered door in the holds aft wall. “Tis but one cabin on this ship.” He said to Marcos. “Stow your gear well, the waters have been rougher than usual this year.”

  “Thank you,” Marcos said starting down the steep ladder leading to the holds deck.

  Shane nodded in reply and turned his attention to Connell who was busy trying to get his horse down the steep ramp.

  The Black snorted and tossed its head. With a sudden lunge it pushed Connell off the ramp and into the hold below. One of Shane’s sons grabbed the reins and received a nasty bite to his forearm. Yelping in pain he jumped clear of the brute.

  Shane laughed, “I warned you about that horse Thad.”

  Connell picked himself up from the straw and whistled shrilly. “Tantalus!” He shouted drawing the horse’s attention away from the escaping boy. The horse whirled seeking to leave the ramp and return to the pier.

  Marcos emerged from the cabin and grabbed the horses swinging reins. “Tantalus,” He said soothingly. “Come,” with a light tug on the leather straps he led the recalcitrant horse down into the hold.

  “You never cease to amaze me Marcos,” Connell remarked.

  “You should give the devil to him,” Shane suggested with a laugh.

  Marcos patted the horses snout, “This horse has only one master.” He said handing Connell the reins. “Only he forgets it from time to time.”

  Chapter Two

  With the horses loaded and their guests situated, Captain Shane ordered the lines cast and the sail raised.

  The wind snapped the canvas square tight and the vessel slowly inched forward gaining speed as it headed out into the dark night of the open ocean.

  Once past the breakwater, the ship began to rise and fall in a slow rhythm, as the prow cut into the large waves. Casius worked his way forward until he stood at the bow. Grasping the worn railing he smiled broadly. He loved the feel of a ship at sea, the taste of salt in the air and i
cy cold bite of the sea spray on his face.

  “It has been too long,” He said to Connell who had come forward to stand next to him. “I have missed the ocean.”

  Connell nodded in understanding. “I made this crossing once before.” He said with a smile. “I am no sailor and I have no particular love of the sea. But I have heard that sailors never truly leave her. It is a calling that haunts them all their lives.” He wiped the salt water from his face. “I am glad to see the brine tonight however, we will be a hard target to find.”

  Looking back Casius could barely see a few dim lights that marked the town of Parin in the darkness. Of Marcos and D’Yana he could see no sign, but Suni stood on the deck near the tiller watching with interest as the sailors went about their tasks.

  For three days the stout vessel rode the churning waters. The nights were dark and the days marked by overcast skies and blowing rains.

  Shane and his sons were able seamen and handled their craft expertly in the rough waters. The incessant wind that drove them northward also pushed them further east than Captain Shane had desired.

  Casius spent most of the time on deck away from the cramped confines of the cabin and his companions. On the morning of the fourth day he wrapped himself in his travel cloak and stepped out into the predawn gloom.

  He shivered at the sudden change of temperature. It was cold, so cold that the breath of the horses was plainly visible as billowing clouds.

  The mounts stood with their legs braced against the ships rolling. Even Connell’s temperamental mount stood subdued in the shadows.

  Climbing the steep ladder out of the hold he almost reconsidered his decision to leave the cozy cabin. Fingers of icy wind pried at his clothing. The ships rails bore touches of frost that were short lived and would soon disappear at the first touch of the morning’s sun.

  Captain Shane stood at the tiller, his sure hands guiding the vessel. His two sons seeing to the myriad of small tasks that keep sailors busy whenever a ship was at sea.