His Dark Empire (Tears of Blood)

by Forbes, M. R.

  Eryn was amazed. If there was a resistance, she wanted to be part of it. "How do I join them?"

  "I'm sorry, Eryn," Magret said. "They won't allow the Cursed to fight. If you seek them out, they'll do what they can to give you shelter and try to protect you, but that will be the end of it."

  "They won't let me fight?" Eryn asked.

  "No. They can't get in the way of his edict on the Cursed, if they do the whole force of his armies will come to bear against them before they can gather enough resources to fight back. They will try to help you hide, but they will not let you participate."

  Eryn shook her head. That wasn't good enough. She wasn't going to hide somewhere while other people died trying to keep her safe. She had sworn she would end his reign.

  "Eryn," Magret said. "We can help you get to them. You don't have to run. You can try to go on with your life."

  "Go on with my life? Everyone I loved is gone. Everything I knew is either gone, or in your cart. Take it, sell it, help the resistance, that is well and good. If you want to help me directly, get me to Elling City."

  The married couple looked at one another again, and then back at her.

  "We can help you to the north side of Root," Tanner said, "but it will be suspicious if we bypass the town completely, and Rappett will be waiting for us. You'll have to make it the rest of the way to Elling on your own."

  "How are we going to get past the soldiers?" Eryn asked.

  "Don't worry, child," Magret said. "I have an idea."

  She stood up and joined Eryn by the cart, pulling back the blanket and pushing aside a few of the things. Resting at the very bottom was a scissor.

  "They're looking for a girl with short brown hair," Marget said. "Not a boy with a shaved head. You're tall for your age, I think we have some clothes in here that will fit you."

  Eryn reached up and stroked her hair. She wasn't thrilled with the idea of cutting it off, or pretending to be a boy, but she was willing to do whatever she had to. It seemed fitting that she would be wearing one of the villager's clothes to evade the soldiers.

  "I have a razor you can use to finish the shave," Tanner said.

  They sat her down and Tanner held the lantern to her head while Marget cut her hair and then used the razor to remove the stubble. It felt weird to Eryn to be bald, and to feel every prick of the wind on her scalp. She ran her hand over it, back and forth in disbelief. Then Marget rooted around in the cart again until she found a brown tunic and pants.

  "They're a little big, but it will help hide your breasts," she said.

  Eryn took the clothes and walked into the darkness, quickly changing and returning. "Well?"

  "Perfect," Tanner said.

  "Get some sleep, Eryn," Marget said. "We'll be leaving at first light. I have to warn you though, if any of the soldiers who came to your village stop us, you may have to run. They'll know it was just the two of us."

  "I don't want to put you in danger," Eryn said. "Maybe I should just go ahead on my own."

  "Nonsense. You'll stand out less with us, especially now, and the road will be a lot faster. Plus, we have plenty of bread, and we're not that far from Root as it is. You'll be on the north side in a couple of days at most."

  "How can I ever repay you?"

  Tanner and Marget's faces both turned grim.

  "If your goal is to kill him, you can repay us by killing him," Tanner said, while Marget nodded her head.

  ***

  They were on the east side of the town Tanner had said was called Root, on a smaller dirt road used mainly by farmers to bring their harvest to either the north or south side of town, when they were stopped by his soldiers.

  It had been good fortune that Eryn had been pulling the hand cart at the time, having insisted on sharing their load, especially since she was younger and stronger than both of them. It made her appearance as a boy even more believable. They had thought ahead to put her bow, quiver and the sword she had taken at the bottom of the cart, covered by all of the other items the two had scavenged from her village.

  "Hold," the voice shouted from behind them. The three turned as one while the two soldiers rode up on the backs of their large black chargers.

  "Can I help you, My Lord?" Tanner asked, giving them a bow of subservience.

  "We're in search of two fugitives," the soldier said.

  Eryn tried to mask her surprise. Two?

  "One is a young girl, with short brown hair, about the same height as your boy. Her name is Eryn Albion. The other is a tall, thin, older man with shoulder length white hair and blue eyes, goes by the name of Silas Morningstar."

  Tanner and Marget looked at one another, and then at Eryn. She shrugged.

  "We haven't been on the road more than a few days, My Lord," Marget said. "You're the first person we've seen who wasn't a merchant or a farmer."

  The other soldier circled around the cart, looking down at it. "What do you have in the wagon?" he asked.

  "Found merchandise," Tanner replied, pulling back a corner of the blanket. "We picked it up from a village to the east of here. Are you interested in buying anything?"

  The soldier examined the uncovered items. "That garbage? No."

  "You're free to go, merchant," the other one said. "Be sure to alert the guard if you happen across either of the fugitives. There is a substantial reward for information leading to their capture."

  Eryn watched Tanner and Marget's faces, holding her breath and waiting to see if she had misplaced her trust yet again.

  "We will. Of course, My Lord," Tanner said. "If we see the girl, or the man with the long white hair."

  The soldier nodded, and the two of them rode off together, north along the road.

  "Thank you," Eryn said to them, once they were gone. "You could have turned me in and collected the reward."

  Marget looked hurt by the statement. "It's hard to trust in this world, child. I understand that. Know that you can always trust Tanner and me."

  Eryn knew the woman would never understand how much that simple statement meant to her. She smiled and took the handles of the cart, turning around and pulling with renewed strength.

  ***

  "You be careful, child," Magret said, wrapping Eryn in a tight hug.

  "I will," she replied, returning the hug. She fought against the tears that threatened to come. She had only known Magret and Tanner for two days, but in that time they had been like surrogate parents to her.

  "We'll miss you," Tanner said. He was holding her quiver in one hand, and the sword in the other. She saw he had placed it into a simple leather scabbard. "It was in the bottom of the cart. I thought it would come in handy, so the soldiers wouldn't see the blade. The way it shines, it's bound to draw too much attention to you."

  She smiled and threw her arms around him. "Thank you, Tanner."

  He dropped the quiver to return her hug, and then handed it to her when she broke the embrace. Eryn slipped it over her shoulder, and took the sword, unbuckling her belt so she could slide the scabbard on. Then she took her bow from them.

  "You look like a woodsman's apprentice," Tanner said. "Or a mercenary."

  Eryn couldn't help but think about Roddin. She hoped Amman was taking good care of him and her parents, and that they were pleased to see her this way.

  "It will take you five or six days to reach Elling City on foot," Magret said.

  "We put the rest of our bread in your quiver," Tanner added. "If you stay close to the Baden, you should have no shortage of water to drink."

  Magret reached out and straightened her tunic. "Try to stay at the side of the road, and travel as much as you can under darkness, that will reduce the number of soldiers you run into. The ones who do pass by will probably stop you and ask where you're going with a sword and a bow. Just tell them you're headed to Elling to audition for the Overlord."

  "Audition?"

  "Yes. There are many young men who want to join his army, but they only take the ones that have potential wit
h the sword and bow. If you want to enlist, you must audition in front of an Overlord, a Lord, a General, or a Constable."

  "Why would anyone want to join his army?"

  Magret shook her head and sighed. "Not all families have been affected by the Curse. The ones that haven't, they don't always understand why what he is doing is so wrong. They haven't lost a child, or had a cousin or a brother sent to the ore mines as punishment. Besides, being a soldier can be a trying but comfortable life. They are fed, clothed, and housed by the Empire. They want for nothing, and they have more power than they ever would as a farmer, or all but the wealthiest merchants."

  "I know so little about the Empire." Eryn said. "What are the ore mines?"

  Tanner pointed to her sword. "They are great big caves in the side of mountains, where thousands of prisoners dig out the earth in search of the metals his smiths use to make all kinds of incredible things. That sword of yours is made of an alloy, that's a mixture of different metals, that comes from his mines."

  "You mean this sword exists because of slaves?"

  "Not slaves," Tanner said. "Prisoners." She didn't miss the sarcasm in his tone.

  "What are their crimes?"

  "We don't always know. Sometimes, it is for unknowingly aiding a Cursed. Sometimes it is for stealing bread. Sometimes, it is for nothing at all. I have heard that his soldiers will work with the Overseers of the mines to collect more prisoners when they have not delivered enough ore to him."

  Eryn couldn't believe it. Things were so simple in the village. Everyone worked together, to help one another survive as one big family. "What does he need it all for?"

  "He doesn't need it all," Magret said, her voice full of venom. "Even if he did, he could pay people to work the mines, instead of having the soldiers take them." Her voice softened. "You will learn what you need to when you get to Elling. Find your way to the Tenders district. It isn't the safest part of the city, but that is where the truth lives."

  Eryn took a deep breath, and thought about her promise again. She was afraid of the city, and of being around so many people. Her entire life, she had known less than a hundred, and she knew from Tanner and Magret that Elling was much bigger than that.

  "I hope I can survive there," she said.

  Tanner smiled and rubbed her bald head. "You're a strong one. Smart and resilient. You'll do more than survive there."

  She gave both of them another hug. "Thank you again, for everything."

  "Good luck, Eryn," Magret said. "I hope we see you again one day."

  "Me too," she replied.

  She turned around, and started walking.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Silas

  Silas heard the sound of a horse racing down the road. In the darkness of night, he couldn't make out the cloud of dirt that he knew would trail behind, but the sound was enough. He scrambled off the road at a run, sliding on his knees along the grass and coming to rest behind a tree.

  "Lucky I was here, and not back there," he whispered. He had only gotten beyond the farmlands between Root and Elling a short time ago. It was a segment of the road that offered nowhere to hide.

  The rider was a messenger, in light black cloth and riding a Portnis stallion, a larger but leaner horse from the province of the same name, located on the other side of the Killorn Mountains. Portnis stallions were famous for their speed and stamina, but also for their skittishness. They made excellent mounts for messengers, and terrible mounts for soldiers.

  He flew by Silas' hiding spot, the expression on his face one of worry and excitement. Silas watched him until he vanished into the darkness, and then moved back out onto the road. He would walk for as long as his legs would allow, and then find a spot by the Baden where he could rest out of sight.

  It hadn't been an easy thing to do. The road between Root and Elling was crowded with merchants, soldiers, nobles, and others, all headed to or from the capital. He had seen the soldiers stopping some of the merchants and talking to them. He had heard the whispers; that they were searching for him, and a Cursed. A girl, who had somehow managed to escape the soldiers and the Mediator sent to retrieve her. He had smiled when he had heard that one.

  The faded cloak had been an unexpected blessing. It had allowed him to blend in more easily, covering his long white hair and keeping his blue eyes shaded and less obvious. He tried to disappear in plain sight, walking with his head down, always listening, but never changing his posture or the direction of his head. At least not when there were others sharing the road with him, unless he was trading his coin for a meal. He had been tempted by ale more than once, but had fought the urge to forget, the incessant voice always whispering in his mind whenever his thoughts began to stray.

  Murderer.

  Otherwise, the soldiers and the other travelers paid him little mind. As far as they were concerned, he was just another old man in search of work in the city.

  He had only been walking for a few more minutes, when he heard the sound of a horse, heading in the other direction.

  "Not horse," he said. "Horses."

  He ran off the road, but he didn't see anywhere to hide that he could reach in time. He dropped down, flattening himself against the grass and hoping they were in too much of a hurry to notice.

  They were. Six horses rode by at a full gallop, the Portnis among them. The messenger, four soldiers, and a Mediator. Silas saw that the Mediator had someone on their horse with them. A girl with short brown hair.

  They didn't notice him, their eyes fixed on the road. He noticed them. He rose up behind them, watching them leave. In his mind, he saw Calum Hess laying on the ground in the barn, about to be taken by the flames.

  "Remember," he had said.

  The girl had been captured, not killed, which was a good sign. He knew they would be taking her to a collection point, before moving her on. That meant he had time to catch up.

  Silas remembered passing by a group of minstrels who had made camp for the night, not that far back. They had possessed a covered wagon, a carriage, and six horses. He headed that way at a run.

  ***

  "Be quiet Sena," Robar Quall said to his wife with a laugh. "I was not that drunk."

  "You were too, Robar," she replied. She turned to the rest of the minstrels sitting around the small fire they had made. "So there he is, standing up in front of the Overlord, singing 'Your Merry Stones' at the top of his voice."

  The others were laughing hard, their chirps and guffaws echoing into the night. They knew they had little to fear on the Elling road, especially right now, when the soldiers had increased their patrols in search of the killer and the Cursed.

  "So what did he do?" Jeson asked between wheezing breaths and laughter.

  "He..." Robar laughed. "He..." He laughed again. "He-"

  "Excuse me." Silas stepped out of the darkness, and into the light of their fire, cutting off the musician before he could finish his tale. He had his hood up, and his sword drawn. He put their theatrics to shame, stepping into the flickering firelight and lowering the hood, allowing them to see his white hair and blue eyes reflecting the flames. "I need to borrow a horse."

  All of the laughter stopped, the six minstrels falling dead silent. They looked at him with fear in their eyes, but didn't respond to his request.

  "Helllpppp," Jeson shouted into the night. "Murderer!"

  Silas was on him in a blink, leaping over the fire, grabbing the drunk bard from behind, and putting his hand over his mouth. He tried to shake off the pain and guilt that had blossomed in him at hearing the man call him that.

  "Be quiet," he whispered. "A horse," he said to the rest of them. "I only need borrow it, and I will return it to you, if not on the road then in Elling."

  "What if we just call for the soldiers again?" Sena asked. She had found a small knife somewhere, and she held it out in front of her.

  "The soldiers are gone," Silas said. "Didn't you hear them ride off?"

  "I think I did," Jeson said, the words comi
ng out muffled through Silas' hand. "I think I did," he repeated when Silas released his mouth.

  "Please," Silas said. "I don't want to harm any of you, but I have to take one of your horses."

  "What for?" Robar asked.

  "To chase after the soldiers," Silas replied.

  Robar began laughing again. "You want to chase them? That is rich. Take the dapple at the front of the carriage. She's worth the story I can make out of this. If you live, come back and tell us what happened, and I'll even give you some coin."

  "Robar!" Sena began to complain, but he put his hand up.

  "Not now," he said. "Think about it, my dear. This is the work of Amman to bring us such inspiration."

  She still didn't look happy, but she nodded. "I'll help you unhitch her."

  Silas let go of Jeson and trailed behind Sena.

  "These are crazy times," she said. "I've never seen so many Cursed being brought in from the countryside. It's like there's something in their water, or something."

  "What do you mean?" Silas asked.

  "We crossed over the Killorn Mountains from Portnis a couple of weeks ago, on the way to Elling. We passed at least four Mediators. I haven't seen four on the road between Elling and Portnis in all of the eight years we've been playing this route. In fact, I heard from some others that they're having a shortage. They've had to start sending soldiers out to get the Cursed without a Mediator present."

  Silas wasn't sure what to think about that. He knew they'd had to send for Roque from Elling because Root's Mediator had been busy. Had that been the one riding with the Cursed girl he'd seen?

  Sena brought him over to where the horses were grazing. She took the dappled mare's head in her arms and rubbed her muzzle. "This is Binney. She's the youngest and fastest we've got."