Dawn of Wonder (The Wakening Book 1)

by Jonathan Renshaw

  “Leave him,” the captain said. “He is not critical to the quest. If he is not able to ride he should return to the city.”

  “Without him,” said Culver, “I will be sorely disadvantaged. We shall have to wait until he has recovered. In the meantime, I want you and your soldiers to make a full inspection of this hamlet. There is something strange afoot here.”

  “We will not wait another moment!” snapped Senbert. “I can already feel the prince breathing down my neck. His orders were direct and made no mention of inspections. I want to get this over with as quickly as possible.”

  Aedan exchanged a look with Liru. Get it over with?

  He doubted any of the soldiers had noted that detail, but they had certainly noted the way their captain had had spoken to the chancellor – nobody spoke to Culver with that tone. But Senbert hardly appeared to be himself. He was nearly frantic with whatever worries assailed him, and did not back down. He yelled at the sergeant who bellowed at the soldiers, and the party moved out.

  It was the fifth day. Aedan had hoped to speak to Liru or Culver, but it was as though the soldiers had been instructed to keep them apart. The hamlet was as silent and empty as on their arrival. He looked around, wondering at this. At the very least he would have expected to see a few doors slamming in acknowledgement of their presence, but there was neither sound nor movement as they left. What did Culver suspect?

  By mid-afternoon they were beyond the last traces of civilisation and were now cutting through the grassland. The light was softened by a thin veil of cloud, but otherwise the day was clear and still. They climbed to the top of a gentle rise and Captain Senbert took a very long time as he surveyed the land.

  Aedan watched him. Was he looking for something more permanent than a night’s lodging? An alder-clad dale about a half mile to the north caught the captain’s attention. He pointed and led the way down the slope.

  Aedan considered calling to Liru and making a break from the soldiers. But the academy ponies would stand no chance against these hardy steeds.

  He felt drops start to trickle down his forehead as they chose the campsite. Liru walked her pony beside his while they watched the soldiers dismount. He had a wild idea, but before he could say anything to Liru, the sergeant took his horse’s bridle firmly and waited for him to dismount and unpack. Carrying his saddlebags and bedroll, he made for a tree some distance from the centre of the clearing where he dropped his things and sat. Liru sat down beside him. She stared at the ground as if she were about to strike it.

  “What are we to do?” she asked. “First the prince, then Culver and his servant, now Osric has failed us.”

  “Osric has not failed us. We are still here.”

  “For how long? I see murder in these men’s eyes.”

  Aedan could not disagree. He cast his gaze around, trying to appear bored. “How fast can you run?” he asked.

  She looked up. “Considering what they all ate two nights ago, I might be able to outrun them. How about you?”

  “I’m still aching,” Aedan said, not making any effort to hide the annoyance he felt at not being warned, “but I made sure I ate a lot on the way here. I’ll be able to get up this slope behind us faster than any of these armoured soldiers. I think it will be too steep and crumbly for some of them to climb at all. If we can reach the top of the hill we can drop into the valley on the other side. It has many rocks and crevices, many places to hide. Finding us there at night will not be easy.”

  “Very well. Should we run from here or try to walk first and hope they don’t notice?”

  Aedan looked around again. “The captain is missing. Now is a good time. We’ll get up and walk slowly until we are called back, then we run.” He stopped talking as a young soldier with pocked skin and a mean eye approached from the side and tossed down an armload of firewood.

  “Seems that you are sitting in my place,” he said and dropped heavily beside Aedan, filling the air with a reek of old sweat. “And it looks like you have some of my stuff too.” He drew Aedan’s little knife and held it up. “Yes, I remember this knife. I’m going to make you apologise for taking it.”

  Other footsteps drew closer and Aedan recognised the loose-lipped soldier who had spoken to him on the first day – Rork, the men called him. He was a large, powerful man, and apparently a notable swordsman. He sat so near to Liru that he was leaning against her. She tried to move but he gripped her neck and held her in place.

  “They took our spot,” said the first soldier. “And this thieving boy took my knife, see?” Hold him while I search for more of my things. Rork leaned over and gripped Aedan’s neck while the first pushed struggling arms aside and dug through one pocket after another. The search revealed a few pebbles, some coins which were immediately recognised as stolen, and nothing else but the one thing that was nearly everything to Aedan.

  “What’s this?” the soldier said, holding up the little leather case with the emblem of a sapling and a toadstool. “This has paper in it. Ah yes, I remember, I use it for starting fires. We can use a page now.”

  Aedan screamed and struggled like a wild animal but the men were too strong for him. His kicking and writhing did no more than draw laughter. Both men now held him with strong fingers.

  At the edge of his vision something flashed. The soldier who had sat so close to Liru had given her access to his dagger. In a burst of movement, she drew it, plunged it into his leg and darted from his grasp. The howl caused the other soldier to drop his guard. It was a momentary distraction but it was all Aedan needed to plant an elbow in the man’s nose and slip away. It tore him to leave the diary behind, but he knew there was no way he could wrestle it free and still make good his escape.

  He flew up the slope, springing from root to root where the soil was too soft, and darting through the undergrowth like a ferret. The uproar behind him was immediate. A mistake now would cost him his last chance at freedom.

  He caught up to Liru and sped past her to lead the way, choosing the quickest path, reading the ground as effortlessly as he might read the words of a story. Here he was at home in a way that none of his peers would ever be. Liru mimicked how he moved from root to root, leapt upwards from the stems of trees, and spread his weight over crumbling soil when there were no better holds.

  The heavy churning of boots began to drop behind. Calls became shorter as the men found their lungs burning. Aedan was just beginning to think he could stop to catch his breath when an arrow cut through the air and crunched into the bark of a tree near his head.

  He moved behind a screen of thick bushes and continued climbing. He was feeling the effects of the poison now, but he pushed on, leading Liru to just beneath the crest of the hill. The last twenty feet would leave them exposed, but as another arrow plugged into the soil near him, he realised that staying put was no option.

  “We need … to make a dash … over the top,” he managed between breaths.

  Liru nodded. She was panting too.

  Aedan kept his head down and led the way through the long grass. As they reached level ground, he broke into a full sprint over the exposed hilltop, Liru at his heels. But he had not made it halfway across when three mounted soldiers appeared on their right and cantered to intercept them.

  The distance closed. They were so near to freedom, but he knew they would not make it.

  Then he recognised the sound of a familiar voice calling his name. He looked up at the huge soldier whose eighteen-hand-high charger stamped and ground to a halt before him. Aedan’s wild eyes settled just enough for him to recognise the man. He sank down in the grass, rolled onto his back, and gave way to the exhaustion.

  Liru’s terrified eyes appeared above him. He grinned and pointed at the soldier. “General … Osric,” he gasped.

  Fergal and a tall, middle-aged woman in military uniform now joined the first three horsemen and dismounted. The woman showed impressive balance as she sprang from the saddle. The placement of her feet was precise; there was no tot
tering step. Her eyes were quick and they caught Aedan staring – slender figures and long copper hair were hardly common sights within a military regiment. He wondered what kind of woman this was.

  “Wait here with Fergal and Tyne,” Osric ordered, and rode towards the centre of the hilltop with his two uniformed companions. Aedan had never before seen Osric fully armed. It was a frightening spectacle. He would have dwarfed standard weapons, so he bore bigger weapons which he dwarfed anyway and carried with the greatest of ease. His two companions, though not nearly as large as the general, were no less fierce or stern. Aedan now recognised them as Merter, a ranger-captain, and the renowned Commander Thormar. It was a high ranking trio, and for any soldier, a terrifying one.

  Aedan saw a ragged group of pursuers crest the hilltop and stumble to a confused halt as they saw the three mounted officers.

  “Fall in!” bellowed the commander.

  Exhausted as they were, they scurried over and lined up. The rest of the soldiers did the same as they arrived. Captain Senbert was the last to appear, and he rushed to take a position at the head of his men. Osric left the commander in charge and walked his horse back to where the others waited.

  Liru stepped close to Aedan. “You never said he was that big.”

  Osric dismounted with a thump they all felt.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  Aedan shook his head.

  “Liru?” The general knelt down before her, and even then he was taller by several inches. She appeared confused. It was the first time Aedan had seen her fumbling for words.

  “Sir, no. Thank you, sir. No, I am not hurt.”

  “You have nothing to fear from me,” he said in a voice that, even now, rasped and growled.

  “I’m not afraid,” she said. “It’s just that I did not expect you to know my name, or care what happened to me.”

  He regarded her. “After how you have been treated, I am not surprised. Nevertheless, my concern is sincere, and if any man here attempts to harm you, I shall hang him from the nearest branch. It is shameful that you were not given a woman for company so I have brought someone very special to escort you. You will have learned of Tyne, daughter of Vellian, during your studies.”

  The tall lady offered Liru a kind smile.

  A strange croak came from Liru’s mouth. She blinked and coughed and tried again. “Thank you.” It was hardly more than a squeak. For once, her complete self-possession was crumbling.

  Aedan guessed it was the unexpected kindness in the wake of such prolonged dread. He stepped back and gestured for Osric to hug her. The big general’s face registered a combination of confusion and panic. Aedan tried again, but by now the moment was past and Liru’s display of emotion was gone as quickly as it had appeared, a summer cloudburst, over in a blink.

  Osric got to his feet. “Now, much as I would like to bind that lot and send them directly to the barrack prison, we are going to need them very soon. There is trouble in these hills that will find us and I’m afraid we now urgently require numbers. Even soldiers like these will understand the need to unite against a common enemy. Commander Thormar is explaining the situation to the men. I’ll do the same with you, but first we need to find a defensible position. If you are camped in the comfortable and hopelessly exposed dale ahead of us you will need to collect your horses and equipment with some haste.”

  “Osric, there’s one thing that I need to ask you now,” said Aedan.

  Osric raised an eyebrow.

  “The soldier with the scarred face, that one, fourth in line, emptied my pockets and took Kalry’s diary.”

  Osric turned and roared across the hilltop, “Commander!”

  Thormar turned around and the whole line of soldiers flinched.

  “Send me the fourth in line, now!”

  Thormar snapped an order at the soldier who saluted and ran towards Osric. He came to attention somewhat further away than was customary. His face was pale, hands shaking; he looked ready to faint. Osric closed the distance with two giant strides. His voice was not loud, and it was all the more frightening for it.

  “Do I need to ask questions, or are you going to come out with it?”

  The soldier swallowed. “I took some of the boy’s things, sir. I was only toying with him though. I’ll give them back as soon as we get down to the campsite.”

  “Good. Because, as a soldier, thieving from those entrusted to your care is a hanging offense.”

  The soldier’s knees were shaking. He knew.

  Osric lowered his large head until his eyes hovered in front of a pair that were blinking rapidly. “Don’t give me so much as a hint of doubt about you,” he growled, taking his time over the words, letting them bore in.

  The soldier was leaning away, almost falling over. “Yes, sir – I mean no, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  Osric dismissed him with a thrust of his chin and the man scampered away. He remained looking at the line before Thormar, frowning. Aedan was close enough to hear him mutter to Culver who had come alongside, “I recognise most of those soldiers. They will give us trouble before the end.”

  Culver nodded his grey head.

  “Now,” Osric said to the others. “Let us inspect the lay of the land and find a better position. We have much to do. This night, I’m afraid, will be a desperate one.”

  It was the first time Aedan had watched Osric at work as a field general. In Castath, the man had always appeared too big, too stern, too calculating, and far too intimidating, but here he belonged. Here, he was to those behind him what a reef is to a small island in a tempest. The peril of their situation rose like dark water and broke against his unmoving form, then reached the others only as a deflected spray. The colossal depth and gravity of his confidence, and the breadth of his planning, however urgent the situation, formed a shelter behind which the soldiers clustered.

  But though the disorder of mindless fear was held at bay, the urgency was felt by all. No observer would have missed the frantic haste of preparations in the dwindling light. Rushing past each other, they hoisted and lugged boulders to a stone wall that grew beneath a rocky overhang.

  It was the ranger captain who had found the broad hollow in the rock. Though it was a vast improvement on their previous camp, it was no fortress. It had one strategic advantage – the hollow sank into a wall of a narrow valley, so the entrance could only be stormed from across the riverbed over an uneven, rocky approach.

  Once the wall had reached a height of three feet, the horses were tethered at the back near the supplies. The men set about arming themselves and filling their tight stomachs as best they could – Osric insisted on it. The preparations had been exhausting, and they would need their strength before the night was done.

  Osric dropped a heavy sack at Aedan’s feet. “For you and Liru,” he said. “You mentioned that Dun had not armed you properly.”

  With a sigh of relief, Aedan pulled out shields, helmets, plated hauberks, bracers, gloves, blades and bows. He wondered if he might need to help Liru, but she strapped on the armour and checked her weapons as comfortably as a cook arranging kitchenware.

  Aedan had been given a short sword, a midsized shield that could be buckled to an arm, freeing both hands, a long dagger, a knife, and a choice of crossbow or bow. He opted for the bow. Loading a crossbow under pressure was not something he enjoyed. The daggers were like needles, the sword a razor, and it suddenly struck him that this was to be the first time he would fight with sharp tips and edges. These were not training weapons; they would do a lot more than bruise the enemy. He dropped the sword back into its scabbard with a frown and sat on the cold floor, head in hands.

  The last time he had travelled through this area, some four years back, he had formed a purpose – to stand against tyrants. Tonight he would do just that. He should be brimming with fire. But all he felt was the desperate hope that his weakness would not announce itself. Not with Liru, Osric and Culver to see – and soldiers who would spread the word to every occupant
of the barracks.

  Osric called him. Liru was there, waiting.

  “You two should know more than the outlines,” Osric said. “After you left the town, Fergal remained under the pretence of illness. As soon as you were gone, he located the innkeeper – a Fenn spy – bound him and made a tour of the hamlet. It was not just the condition of the inn that had kindled his and Culver’s suspicions. Perhaps you noticed it – there was only one chimney putting out smoke on the day of your arrival, a cold day. He found what they had expected. All the homes were empty, their occupants’ bodies hacked and hidden in shallow graves. Under interrogation, the spy revealed that it was the work of Fenn war scouts who had made Eastridge a base for their operations. The worst hornet’s nest we’ve ever found. You were very lucky to arrive when the scouts were engaged out to the west. Even as we left the hamlet, we saw a large party returning.”

  “How are they not on your tail then?” Aedan asked.

  “They were. Merter’s bow gave them cause to stay well back. I suspect they are waiting for the rest of their number to gather and prepare for a full assault. These men are ruthless but they are not hasty or foolish. They will attack in strength. It will be their intention to kill us to a man, and I fear, to a woman, in order to preserve their secret.”

  “Will the innkeeper not give away our numbers and weak condition? We were food poisoned,” he added in response to raised brows. He avoided looking at Liru.

  “Ah. I thought the men appeared worn for only a few days out. But no, the information will not have been passed on. The innkeeper was party to capital crimes. He was sentenced and hanged.” Osric showed no emotion and Aedan glimpsed how vast was the difference between this war-hardened general and himself. He could not even stand up to a corrupt student. His eyes dropped to the floor.