An Empire in Runes (The Runes of Issalia Book 3)

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

“Do you mind?” Patrice asked shyly.

  Brock’s gaze shifted to Parker, who was staring at Salina. Brock expected that Parker had something to do with whatever Patrice was working on.

  “Go ahead,” Brock replied as he turned his back toward her and held his arms out.

  She stepped beside him and wrapped the rope about his chest, cinching it tight. She did the same around his waist before measuring his arm length.

  “Thank you,” Patrice said.

  Brock turned about and she gave him a bow before walking away. He watched her depart before shifting his gaze back toward Parker. Brock noticed Parker holding a bolt of black cloth.

  “What’s that?” Brock asked, nodding toward the cloth.

  Parker blinked. “What?” He looked down at where Brock indicated. “Oh, this.” He held it up with two hands and began to unfurl it. “This is our banner. What do you think?”

  With his arms extended wide, Parker held the black flag before his chest. Brock stared at it and began to feel a sense of trepidation. The crimson rune sewn into a field of black shone brightly in the morning sunlight.

  “Um. Do you think it’s safe to show publicly?” Brock asked.

  Salina replied. “We took a vote and everyone agreed that this was what we want, Brock. Everyone here has lived the life of an Unchosen, never having a symbol that defined their purpose.” She pointed toward the flag. “Chaos is how they would be marked, had the Ministry chosen to mark them. This symbol represents a new future for these people,” she paused, looking Brock in the eye. “For me, too.”

  Parker nodded. “This will help to inspire them, Brock. I have the feeling that when they face The Horde, they will need every bit of courage and inspiration they can get.”

  Brock didn’t like it, but understood the sense in their logic. He just wondered at how the Ministry might react when they realize that the forbidden rune had become a symbol of hope to the people they had ostracized.

  CHAPTER 18

  Cam waited on the front lawn, staring toward the dark mass of the Academy, its silhouette barely visible in the darkness. Anxiety churned within his stomach as he waited for the others to show. The cold touch of a winter zephyr found its way inside his leather armor and Cam cinched his cloak tight before his chest. He exhaled, his breath creating a white puff of steam in the chilly pre-dawn morning air.

  “Stop sighing, Cam. They’re coming.” Tegan chided. “Most of them are out here already anyway.”

  Cam nodded, his only response. He counted fifty-seven recruits, all wearing metal-plated leather armor covered by travel cloaks. Some had opted to bring their metal sparring helmets, while others wore cloth hats or wraps to keep their heads warm. A quarter of the students had no headgear at all. Facing a long march followed by a life and death struggle, the group was subdued and lacked the bravado displayed when they first signed up for this venture.

  When his gaze returned to the Academy, Cam’s thoughts drifted to Benny and Ashland. He found himself wishing they weren’t staying behind to work on Benny’s invention. Left as the lone leader of their small army, Cam worried that they might not respect his leadership.

  The creak of a door opening directed his attention toward the Main Hall entrance. A group of students emerged, led by a boy holding a dim glowlamp. As they descended the stairs to the lawn, Cam counted ten heads, exactly the number Ashland had given.

  The boy holding the glowlamp led the others across the lawn and approached Cam.

  “It took you long enough,” Cam said.

  Jestin stopped a few feet away, shrugging as he handed the lamp to Fion. “We were told to be out here before sunup. Well, the sun’s not up yet.”

  Cam grunted in response. It was difficult to argue. His eagerness to be away from the school before they were discovered had him up and outside early. He and Tegan had been sure to get the other Paladins moving early as well. The result of his eagerness only led to more waiting.

  The rumble of hooves caused Cam to turn to the east. After a moment, a group of horses emerged from the dark of twilight, coming down the drive that wrapped about the north end of the complex. The horses soon slowed and stopped just short of where Cam stood waiting.

  “Any trouble?” Cam asked

  Talvin smiled and shook his head. “Not at all.” He patted his mount on the neck. “We would have been out here earlier, but we decided to wait for them to eat and drink some water before we left the stables. We shouldn’t have to stop anytime soon.”

  Cam nodded in response. “Good. Let’s go then. We have three more horses waiting for us in Fallbrandt. I wish we had more, but fifteen horses are better than none.” Cam pointed toward Talvin, waving his finger at the horses. “You guys can ride until we stop for lunch, and then another group can take a turn.’

  Lifting his arm high, Cam waved it in a circle.

  “Let’s move out,” he said, leading his new army down the road toward Fallbrandt.

  Many of the students chatted while they walked. Cam overheard enthusiastic talk of adventure and glory. Even though he knew better, he chose not to crush their optimism. Cam’s view remained more grounded, hoping to somehow defeat The Horde and survive in the process. Thinking about his life after the upcoming battle, his thoughts turned to Puri. He missed her calm strength and exotic beauty. He prayed to Issal that she would survive as well, not wishing to consider a world without her. Somewhere along the way, she had become a necessity to him.

  Glancing to the east, he noticed the sky growing lighter. His gaze shifted toward the road, now able to see the dark mass that marked the edge of the wood. As he drew closer, he realized that something was in the road, just before the forest edge. A stab of anxiety struck, twisting his stomach into a knot when he recognized the man standing before him. With thick arms crossed before his massive chest, the man’s muscular build and defiant stance was easy to identify.

  “Where do you think you’re going, DeSanus?”

  “Master Budakis,” Cam stammered. “Why are you out here?”

  “Humph,” the man grunted. “Did you think you could raid my armory and I wouldn’t notice?”

  Cam hadn’t considered the possibility. He had been under the impression that the armory was rarely accessed. Realizing that the Master Paladin could ruin everything, he knew he had to stand up to the man. Cam stepped closer and noticed that Budakis was wearing metal-plated leather armor with matching bracers.

  “I’m sorry, sir. We are doing what we must.” Cam did his best to appear firm. Confident. “We have a mission and cannot let anything stop us. It’s too important. I’m going to have to ask you to step aside and let my army pass.”

  Budakis stepped close, staring into Cam’s eyes. Although Cam stood a few inches taller than the Master Paladin, he had to resist the urge to flinch and somehow held his stare steady. He prayed that the man would not challenge him. Budakis was a good man and Cam desperately hoped he wouldn’t have to kill him.

  “You sound sure of yourself, DeSanus.” Budakis looked toward Tegan. “What about you Miss Rushka? Are you ready to go back to the Academy or are you with DeSanus here?”

  Tegan nodded toward Cameron. “I’m with Cam, sir. We all are. This is too important.”

  The man stared at her for moment before releasing another grunt. “Very well.” He stepped back, giving Cam some breathing room. “In that case, I’m ready to go. If you’re going off to fight a war, I’m coming with you. Hopefully I’ll be able to keep a few of you alive.”

  “War? You know?” Cam asked.

  “I’m pretty sure you didn’t come back to the Academy, raid my armory, and run off with most of the Paladin trainees on a lark. Something is afoot, of that I’
m sure. Ever since you, your friends, Varius, and Eldarro disappeared, I’ve had the feeling that change is in the wind.”

  The man turned and started walking toward Fallbrandt. After a few strides, he stopped and looked backward. “Well, what are you waiting for? I’m assuming that there’s some urgency to this mission of yours. Let’s go. You can fill me in while we walk.”

  * * *

  Cam and his army reached Fallbrandt as the sun squeezed its first rays between the peaks to the east. The town was already busy, with half a dozen wagons parked along the main street. A wave a relief washed over Cam upon seeing the wagons loaded and ready. While he had hoped they would be there, he feared that some complication would prevent it.

  Cam had a brief discussion with Budakis and convinced him to continue south with the army while Cam led Tegan and Jestin into The Quiet Woman.

  Cam stepped into the front door of the inn, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior.

  “You arrived right on schedule, Cam.” Dory said as she stood from her seat at a table in the center of the room.

  “So far, so good, Dory.” Cam nodded. “Thanks for getting the wagons. Did you have any issues getting the supplies we requested?”

  Dory shook her head. “Not really. It was tight, with the last two wagons arriving last night, but we got it all.” Her eyes flicked toward the window, then back to Cam. “Where are Ashland and Benny?”

  Cam shrugged. “They’re still back at the Academy. Benny’s got Ashland working on some special weapon. He’s being all secretive about it, but that’s typical Benny.”

  Dory nodded. “Are you staying? Saul will be disappointed if you miss the breakfast he’s preparing.”

  Cam smiled, excited by the thought of Saul’s cooking. He glanced toward Tegan and Jestin, who both shrugged. He decided for them.

  “We’ll stay for a quick bite, just for Saul. Then we’ll grab the horses and catch up with the others.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Despite the arduous process, I have demonstrated repeated success of using Infusion on inanimate objects. I have a theory that Infusion will be much easier to perform on living beings since they contain a life force I can leverage. I’ve communicated this theory to The Ministry leaders and they have taken to this idea. Specifically, The Hand is eager for results. They have threatened to withdraw all funding if they don’t see results soon, unwilling to hear the warnings of caution I have expressed. After much consideration, I have agreed to expand my experiments. Bending to their will, I have successfully performed Infusion on a living being.

  Gilo, the first stray I took in, was the recipient of this bold move. I am happy to report that he is doing well and even appears healthier than ever. This morning, the top of Gilo’s head was below my waist. He now stands eye-level with me and weighs more than twice my weight. His strength and speed have increased proportionately with his newfound size. That said, he remains as affectionate as ever. I will continue to monitor him as I repeat my experiment with the others. I am cautiously optimistic and can’t help but consider the possibilities of an amazing future should my experiments prove successful.

  Pausing his reading, Brock considered the passage from the journal. Although he still hadn’t identified the author, the information provided was a revelation. This latest entry showed success in the use of Infusion with a living being. The potential of using Infusion to augment natural abilities was compelling.

  Brock glanced down to look at Wraith, her form dimly lit in the soft blue glow of his lamp. The slow rise and fall of her ribcage was the only movement as she slept peacefully on the floor of the storage room. A smile spread across Brock’s face, a result of the emotion he felt for the oversized dog.

  His eyes returned to the journal, staring at it as he considered continuing. Brock was tired and it was late, but he felt compelled to learn more of the secrets held within. He opened it to the page he had just marked and resumed reading.

  Weeks have passed since performing the Infusion on the dogs we have collected, yet they maintain their enormous size. We continually monitor the pack, interacting with them on a daily basis. Thus far, they exhibit no negative effects and their behavior continues as if nothing has changed other than one small issue. Feeding them has become a massive undertaking. I was forced to send my assistant to Sol Polis to get more food, for I have found that they eat far more than they did prior to their augmentation. Such is the price for progress. I head to the city tomorrow to meet with Ministry leaders for the first time in weeks. They are eager to hear of my findings.

  Not pausing, Brock continued on to the next entry.

  My visit to Sol Polis went quite well. The Hand is convinced that my research is the key to the Ministry gaining significant influence in the kingdoms of Issalia and will convince non-believers that the might and worship of Issal is critical to their current and future lives. The Hand believes that they can leverage Infusion to spread Issal’s teachings and that there will soon be temples of Issal in every major city across the continent. I am still unsure of how Infusion is the key to convincing the rulers who have been hesitant to embrace Issal. If neither healing through Order nor augmentation through the use of Chaos can convince them of Issal’s might, I don’t know if Infusion can sway them.

  Despite their optimism, and mine, I cautioned the Ministry that I need more time to determine how reliable and how safe the process is. A few weeks of success is not enough. I must be sure that the effect not only remain in place, but that there are no ill side effects.

  Brock sat back and rubbed his weary eyes. He closed the book, deciding he had better get some sleep. Other than those who were on night watch, everyone in the camp had been sleeping for hours. He covered the glowlamp with a cloth and the room fell dark.

  * * *

  A spike of dread caused Brock’s eyes to shoot open. The room remained dark, but Brock could feel an evil presence nearby. He sat up, and the hair on his arms stood tall.

  Red eyes glowed in the darkness, staring at him like two orbs floating in space. Moving slowly, Brock reached over to grab the cloth covering his glowlamp. As he slid the cloth away, he found Wraith sitting and staring at him. A low growl began to rumble within her chest, sending another wave of chills down Brock’s spine.

  “It’s okay, girl,” he crooned as he slid his legs off the bed. “It’s me.”

  The growling stopped, Wraith’s head tilting sideways.

  Brock stood, easing toward the huge dog. “That’s a good girl,” he said in a friendly voice. “It’s just me.”

  Closing the distance, he patted her head and scratched behind her ears. Wraith’s eyes narrowed at the pleasure of the attention. Brock closed his eyes, calming himself to reach a state of peace. Finding the source of Order within himself, he wrapped himself within it and mentally reached out toward Wraith.

  The angry red symbols of Chaos roiled within her, like a disease. Finding the dog’s source of Order, he began to gather the loose Chaos, capturing and surrounding it within the Order. It was easier than the first time he had performed this task on her, quickly completing the process and trapping every bit of Chaos.

  Brock’s eyes opened to find hers reverted to dark brown, the red glow now gone. Relieved, his arms wrapped about her thick neck. As he squeezed her, tears clouded his vision. Nobody could know about this. They would no longer trust her and would demand that Brock rid himself of the former bacabra. He couldn’t bear to lose her. Wraith was part of him.

  CHAPTER 20

  Ashland strained harder, gathering a bit more Order from her surroundings before using it to seal the Chaos into place. Panting from the exertion, she opened her eyes and wiped the sweat from her brow. The Power rune that Benny had etched into the pedal cran
k appeared as innocuous as it had before she began, but looks could be deceiving. The rune wouldn’t augment the crank as excessively as when pure Chaos was applied, but the Infusion she had performed would create a permanent effect.

  A glance toward the stall door revealed a slice of sunlight leaking through the seams. Rising before the sun, Ashland had gone directly to the engineering outbuilding to work on the flying machine. After four hours of infusing runes into Benny’s contraption, her body longed for food and rest.

  Ashland climbed to her feet and stretched, trying to work out the kinks and stiffness from sitting on the dirt floor. She pushed the stall door open and found herself squinting in the bright sunlight. After fishing the key that Benny had given her from beneath her tunic, she locked the door, slid the key cord back over her head, and made her way toward the Foundry.

  When Ashland stepped inside, she paused to allow her eyes adjust to the dark confines. The scent of burning metal hung in the air while the pounding of a hammer shaping iron rang throughout the large building.

  She headed toward the back corner of the room, where she found Benny and Karl Jarlish beneath a large glowlamp as they hunched over a pair of workbenches. A smile cracked her face at the thought of Benny working with Karl. Their well-known rivalry was one that Benny had held fast. Ashland expected that Benny had struggled to set his pride aside in order to work with Karl.

  “Hi, Benny.” Ashland said, drawing close. “Hello, Karl.”

  Karl’s round face looked up at her. He had odd goggles strapped to his head, making him look like a bug with curly black hair.

  “Um…hi,” Karl mumbled before returning to his work.

  Benny turned to face Ashland. “Hi, Ashland. How’s it coming?”