The Path of the Storm (The Evermen Saga, Book Three)

by James Maxwell

  Alise stared out to sea, thinking back to the events that had brought her here, as she often did. The wind blew strong in her face, so that her brown dress clung to her slim form and her long dark hair twisted in the ocean breeze, only occasionally flashing a thread of grey.

  She knew she would never have survived without those who had volunteered to join her in exile, but even so she'd begged them not to come. They had begged her in return, and in the end Alise couldn't say no. She'd been convicted of treason. They knew a dark fate may await her them at the hands of her brother, back in Seranthia.

  More than anything, Alise thought about the son who had been taken from her. He would be a man now, perhaps a farmer or a craftsman — if he'd managed to stay clear of Xenovere's clutches. She didn't expect to ever leave the Isle of Ana, but she would give anything to know about him. Killian had been just a babe when they'd taken him from her, and she had no illusions that he would remember his mother. His infant features had been rounded and immature but Alise knew he would have his father's red hair and penetrating blue eyes. After the death of her husband she had loved the babe more than anything in this life. Now she would never know about the man he'd become.

  Alise jumped when she felt a touch at her elbow. Turning, she saw it was Marlow, her manservant. He was old now, and eventually it would be his turn to join the others under the gravestones, far from home, but his eyes were still sharp and he hunched only a little. Alise loved him dearly, and dreaded the day when he would be gone.

  "M'lady, my apologies, I didn't mean to startle you."

  Alise turned and smiled. "You don't need to apologise. My mind was elsewhere."

  "There's a ship."

  Alise's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Are you sure?"

  "Look." Marlow pointed, and then Alise could see it. It was only a speck on the horizon, but the white triangular shape of a sail was clear, and it grew closer as they watched.

  "Four years it's been," Alise said, "and the convicts haven't had a single newcomer. I was beginning to think they'd forgotten about us."

  "Who knows what's transpired in the Empire?" Marlow said.

  "Not that we'll ever hear anything of it. There's much I would give for some news. Still, it's probably for the best. Better that we forget about them."

  Marlow shaded his eyes as he peered at the ship. "I'm not so sure about that, M'lady. Something tells me this isn't another load of prisoners."

  ~

  MARSHAL Beorn scratched at his beard as he saw the craggy Isle of Ana loom larger in his vision. From his approach he could see the chasm that split the island into two halves.

  "What a terrible place to live," he muttered.

  Beorn sensed movement nearby, as a man dressed in Tingaran purple joined him at the rail. "Murderers, thieves, and rapists, all of them, Marshal," said Lieutenant Trask, the man who led Beorn's escort.

  "I'll wager there's more than a few political dissidents. Why didn't anyone tell us about this place?" Beorn asked.

  "You didn't ask."

  Beorn scowled at the Tingaran lieutenant. "That's not good enough."

  Trask shrugged. "They're self-sufficient, and they've been put here for life. Better they spend their days here than fill our jails and take up the time of our courts."

  "We have a new Empire now, Lieutenant," Beorn said, "and a new way of ensuring fair trials for all. Lord of the Sky, we don't even have any records on these people!"

  Lieutenant Trask shrugged again, and Beorn had to fight an urge to strike the man.

  Calming himself, Beorn looked up at the island. "Where will we find Lady Alise?"

  "If she's still alive, she'll be on the northern end of the island."

  "Lieutenant?"

  "What?"

  "Are you forgetting how to address your commanding officer?"

  Trask grimaced. "She'll be on the northern end of the island, Marshal."

  "But the pier is on the southern end, is it not, Lieutenant?"

  "Yes, Marshal."

  Beorn felt a vein begin to throb in his temple. "So how do you plan to cross the chasm? I can't see a bridge."

  "There was a bridge, Marshal, but they destroyed it after the Emperor's sister was exiled." When Beorn didn't say anything, simply regarding the Tingaran with a glare, Trask continued. "They didn't want the convicts crossing to her side, and they wanted to make it hard for her to escape."

  "I understand the reasoning," Beorn growled. "Now I'm waiting… firstly to hear why you didn't say this earlier and secondly to hear you brought materials to build a new bridge."

  Lieutenant Trask began to sweat. "I… We… No, Marshal. We don't have materials to build a new bridge."

  Beorn fought an impulse to draw his sword and run the man through, or at least demote him. He pushed the urge down with a scowl. The Tingaran officers in the army didn't need any more excuses for enmity with the Alturans.

  Beorn closed his eyes and breathed slowly in and then out. Rogan had entrusted him with this task, Beorn reminded himself, and he would see it through.

  "I… I'm sorry, Marshal," Lieutenant Trask said.

  "Don't worry, Lieutenant," Beorn said, opening his eyes. "I'll take care of it. I have an idea."

  Their small sailing ship tacked twice more before reefing sails as they approached the rickety pier.

  The vessel's captain came over, frowning as he checked on his ship's progress as it slid towards the jetty. "Marshal, please disembark quickly. This pier's no good for tying up to longer than a few minutes."

  Beorn nodded acquiescence. "We'll get the men off right away."

  Soon the ship had unloaded her cargo of Tingaran soldiers and drawn away from the island, the captain anxious to maintain a safe distance from the cliffs. Marshal Beorn stood on the rickety pier, looking up at the heights.

  "Lead the way, Lieutenant," Beorn instructed Trask. "Take me to the convicts."

  Trask led Beorn and his dozen men up a precarious path, with wooden steps wedged into the cliff. Beorn felt every one of his years as he grabbed onto the rocky walls for stability, his calves burning and breath coming hoarse.

  "Are you all right, Marshal?" Lieutenant Trask asked.

  "Fine," Beorn muttered. "Just keep going."

  Eventually they reached the heights, where a series of tablelands made up the place the convicts called home. Huts were clustered here and there with small vegetable gardens outside most. Goats roamed around, bleating and moaning as they scattered out of the soldiers' way.

  The convicts had seen the ship coming from far away, and were already lined up, scores of them standing with their hands clasped behind their backs. Beorn saw mostly old men, with a few of them middle-aged. There wouldn't be any trouble here.

  "Ask them to come forward, Lieutenant," Beorn said.

  "Come forward!" Trask called. "Marshal Beorn wants to speak with you!"

  Beorn waited until they had taken three steps forward before speaking. At least he wouldn't have to shout over the wind.

  "Emperor Xenovere, the fifth of that name, is dead," Beorn said. The convicts stirred, exchanging glances. "For those of you who want to, there may be an opportunity to go home. Back in Seranthia your cases will be examined, fairly and impartially, and any of you here for political reasons may find yourselves free men."

  "Looks like we're all free then!" a voice called out from the crowd.

  Lieutenant Trask put his hand on his sword and stepped forward, but Beorn silenced him with a glare.

  "The courts will decide your fate, but I can promise you fair trials, with each of your cases independently judged. However first I need your help with something. I've come for Lady Alise."

  "What have you come for?" one of the convicts, a tall man with a square jaw, asked. "She should never have been sent here in the first place."

  The square-jawed convict was greeted by a chorus of support.

  "I'm here to take her home," Beorn said. "You're correct. She should never have been sent here. I have orders
from the Lord Regent, Rogan Jarvish, to free Lady Alise and restore her titles to her. I'm to take her to Seranthia."

  Beorn's words were met with a ragged cheer.

  "I have to ask you, however," Beorn addressed the square-jawed convict. "Can you build a bridge over the chasm?"

  "'Course we can," the convict said. "We never did in the past though 'cause there are some here who actually belong in this place. The good lady don't want the likes of them creeping up on her in the middle of the night."

  "Thank you," Beorn said, "that's all I needed to know." He raised his voice. "Any man who helps build a bridge across the chasm will have their assistance noted."

  "We don't need our assistance noted," said the square-jawed convict. "Come on, fellows. There might not be much left for us back home, but let's give the lady help getting off this rock, shall we?"

  "Well?" Beorn said, looking at Lieutenant Trask.

  "Well what?"

  "We've got twelve strong men here, plus the two of us. Send word back to the captain of the ship… We might be here a while. Let's give these men a hand."

  ~

  THE BRIDGE was a makeshift structure of tree logs and nailed planks of wood. Lieutenant Trask stationed his men at each end while he and Marshal Beorn set off to find Lady Alise.

  Beorn still had no evidence she was here. What if she had escaped, or fallen from a cliff, or taken ill? Trudging along the rocky path with Trask by his side he wondered what he would say when he saw her.

  The trail eventually led them around a hill to a small plateau, placed high and sheltered on one side with expansive views of the surrounding ocean. Beorn immediately knew who the middle-aged woman flanked by an older couple was.

  She was tall and brown-haired, with a narrow face and sharp features, and there was something… regal about the way she held herself. There was silver in her hair and her blue-grey eyes were shadowed, as if by the marks of suffering. The skin of her face was pale and marked by concern; this was the face of a gentle soul taken on a difficult journey. Her brown dress twisted in the wind, while the expression she wore was one of alarm.

  "Who in the name of the Evermen are you?" the old man at her side challenged. "What are you doing here? Why have you come to trouble us?"

  The three of them stood close together, while the old woman clutched at the one Beorn reckoned was Lady Alise. Beorn wondered what was terrifying them so much.

  Then it came to him.

  "Stop," he held out his hand to hold Lieutenant Trask back. "These people haven't seen another soul in who knows how long. We're frightening them."

  Beorn and Trask kept a distance several paces from the three trembling people.

  "Lady Alise?" said Beorn.

  "Y… Yes. That is I," the tall woman said.

  "I am Marshal Beorn. I know it's been a long time, and neither Lieutenant Trask here nor I wish to cause you any alarm."

  "Why are you here?" Lady Alise asked.

  Beorn scratched at his beard. He'd rehearsed this moment, but the words suddenly deserted him. "Well… There have been changes in the Empire. Your brother, Xenovere, is dead. I don't know how to say this, but I'm here to take you back to Seranthia. My Lady, I'm here to bring you home."

  "Home as what?" the old man said, scowling.

  "Home with titles fully restored. In fact, the Lord Regent, a man named Rogan Jarvish, wants me to ask Lady Alise to take a place in the new Empire."

  Beorn looked imploringly at Lady Alise. If she didn't want to come with them, he wasn't sure what to do.

  "My son, Killian…" Lady Alise finally said. Her voice trembled with emotion. "That's all I care about. What happened to my son? Can you tell me?"

  "I'm sorry, My Lady," Beorn said. "I don't know. But if anyone can help you, it's the Lord Regent. He's a good man."

  Lady Alise turned to the older couple. "I am going to go with them. Marlow, Tara, will you come?"

  The old man looked at the woman, Tara, before turning back to Lady Alise.

  "No, M'lady," the old man said gruffly. "Tara and I, we'll stay here. This is our home now. They won't have much use for us in the Empire."

  "Are you sure?" Lady Alise asked. She suddenly seemed small, like a little girl. "I might need you."

  "You'll do fine," Marlow said. "Be brave. There's nothing they can take from you they haven't already taken. Find your son. Something tells me you will."

  Lady Alise turned to Beorn. "Can I get some things?"

  "Of course," Beorn said. Lord of the Sky, he couldn't imagine how hard this must be for her.

  She turned, but then turned back. "My titles and my lands are returned to me?"

  "Yes." Beorn met her gaze, now steadied.

  "There's nothing I'll take from here, then," Lady Alise said. "Let's go then, immediately. My son may need me."

  37

  "HOW LONG did you say it's been?" Killian asked.

  "About two and a half years," said Ella, looking at him with concern. "How long has it been for you?"

  "No," he shook his head. "I think time flows differently here. It's been a long time, but I don't think it's been that long."

  "How long has it been for you?"

  "A year? More?" He shrugged and smiled shakily. "I don't know."

  "Why did you attack me?"

  The madness briefly returned to Killian's eyes. "How could I believe it was you? I… I can't explain what it's like. Only living here would tell you, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. The days are living nightmares, and they're incredibly long. The nights are short, but they're worse, much worse. I try to sleep in the daylight hours and stay awake for the nights. When I sleep I have dreams… vivid, uncontrollable dreams." He looked at her. "You're in them, as are others, people from my youth and from the dark times in my life."

  "I hope you don't associate me with dark times," Ella said, attempting a smile.

  "No," said Killian, and Ella was pleased to see him smile, however thinly. "I think I dream of times when I was… emotional."

  Ella looked around the chamber; the shells with their motionless occupants still gave her chills. "You've mentioned dangers. Are we safe here?"

  "This is one of the few places we can be sure of being safe. There's nothing here though, nothing except the Evermen, waiting to return. We can't stay here forever."

  "You mentioned dreams."

  "It's something about the mood of this world. When I saw you, I couldn't believe you were actually here. I've been forced to fight creatures of nightmare. I couldn't distinguish between my dreams and my waking life." He laughed, but it was forced. "I sound mad, don't I?"

  "Don't worry," Ella said. "I'm here to take you home. You'll feel better as soon as you're back."

  Killian looked up at the empty shell, where the words "Sentar Scythran" gave the name of the one who had once waited in stasis. "What happened to him? He was here when I first found this chamber. I'll never forget that face. Of all of them, his face chilled me the most."

  "He must have left some time ago," Ella said. "The essence drained away from the portal and the gate opened, long enough for the beacon to sound and wake him. Sentar must have been chosen by the others to keep guard in case the portal ever opened."

  "Then why didn't he wake the others?" Killian asked.

  "My guess is he didn't have time."

  "So Sentar crossed, while he could."

  "He crossed, and he went to the Akari. He now has necromancers with him, and essence. He sent an explosive device to my brother's wedding…"

  Ella told Killian about the strange device and Tomas's poisoning, Miro and Amber's quest, and Evrin's revelations.

  How would she explain what she had discovered about Killian himself?

  "We need you," Ella said. "Will you come home with me?"

  "How did you cross over?" Killian asked. "How is it possible?"

  "I can tell you as we journey to the portal. I've asked Shani to open it once every three days, but it sounds like we have no way of telling
when it will open next. We'll have to wait beside the portal. There'll be time to explain everything."

  "Wait," Killian said. "Before we go… There are dangers out there. You need to know something…"

  "What is it?"

  Killian opened his mouth, trying to speak. "It won't make much sense unless I explain it all," he finally said.

  Ella looked out from the mountain chamber's opening at the strange twilight that must be what Killian had called daylight. What would night be like? How much time did they have?

  Ella took Killian's hand in hers. He looked up to meet her eyes and then lowered his gaze again.

  "Go on," Ella said.

  "I crossed over as the beacon was sounding. There was a device like a pendulum on the other side. I stopped it."

  Ella nodded. "I saw it."

  "I followed the road until I came to this chamber. It was the first place I found. I knew though that I would need food and water, and my hunger drove me to explore this land. There was a problem. The first time I slept in the open, I was attacked."

  Killian's expression grew strained.

  "It was like a shadow, and with the lack of light I couldn't see its form. I thought I must have been dreaming when my blows didn't touch it, but I was awake, and the gouges it left in my back were real. I wasn't wearing much when I crossed, if you remember."

  Ella nodded.

  "I only survived that night by running. I found the deepest hole I could and hid. I survived night after night in this way. In my explorations I found peculiar buildings left behind by those who dwelled in the cities, and other structures built by the Evermen, places stranger than this chamber by far.

  "There is plenty of water in the cities, so thirst wasn't a problem, but food is another story. The wrains — that's what the original inhabitants called themselves — ate food quite different to us. So I concentrated on the places where the Evermen met and slept, ate and studied. I eventually found food they left behind, in a place far from here. I found these clothes."

  Killian indicated the fitted garments he wore: black boots, soft black trousers, silver belt and collared black shirt. Ella stroked the material of his sleeve between her fingertips; it was incredibly soft.