The Secret of Azuron (The Sword Empire Book 1)

by J. R. Kearney

  "It's a really nice stable your dad built Landau," Melly said to him. "What did you end up doing in there the last few weeks?"

  "Just what I told you, cleaning up for Clancey, he had a lot of junk in there I had to go through, but it was okay."

  "There was some really great stuff in there too," Elliott reminded him, before Landau gave him a concerned scowl, heavy enough for Elliott to understand.

  "Just a really good blanket I saw, and an old chair, I think," he murmured.

  "Hmm I don't remember Clancey's quest to find the 'good' blanket, how excited you must have been," Melly said with much sarcasm.

  Elliott pointed out to the field. "I'm gonna call that horse Melly because it's fat and it stinks like week old carrots."

  Melly jumped off the fence and chased after Elliott, who was never one to get far.

  "Can you teach me to ride horses Landau?" Jenny asked.

  "When I learn how to maybe, what will you give me?" Jenny tucked her head into her chest and smiled up at Landau with no real answer. "Who needs a horse, I'll give you a ride."

  Landau kneeled down and picked up Jenny on his shoulders, making horse noises while galloping all the way back to the foot of Whistling Mountain, her golden hair blowing in the wind.

  "Wow you're getting big," said Landau, taking Jenny’s hand to race Melly and Elliott up the winding road.

  The children all barged through the door to come upon Serin talking with Clancey, with another man in their company, all looking solemn upon the kids as they arrived. Whatever cheer Landau acquired quickly dimmed, for the expression on their faces had him assume the worst.

  He peered towards the daybed where his father lay on his side, utterly static and impassive before relinquishing a weak cough. Landau sighed and wondered what sombre semblance the Elder's expressed. The stranger nodded to the children, a thick leather satchel suspended from his neck and situated at his waist, destitute of emotion and oddly malodorous.

  "What's wrong? Is my dad okay? I mean who is that?" Landau said rudely, be it unintentional when he pointed at the stranger.

  The Elder turned to his children, telling them to hasten upstairs. Landau raced swiftly to his father's side, he was in a slumber but still breathing, muttering noises more than words, settled on his side with his face to the fireplace.

  He turned to his elders for an answer.

  "Landau," Clancey started, "sorry I have been absent lad. While I was in Merchant's Wall I managed to track down our medic friend here."

  The man knelt by Landau's side and reached out to shake his hand, the medic's hand was warmer than most.

  "Hi son, my name is Ralof, I'm helping with the war efforts up near the capital."

  "Can he help my dad?" he interrupted, speaking more to Serin. Ralof was not offended, comforting him with a hand on his back.

  "Not entirely no," Clancey uttered after a long pause in trying to put it delicately. "He's not wounded in any way so to speak, more accurately, his body is giving up on him, it's hard to explain Landau."

  Despite being a wordsmith Clancey could see Landau appeared less optimistic, there was little good news to come of it.

  Serin moved Landau from earshot of his father.

  "Is there nothing we can do for him? I'll do anything!"

  "We were about to discuss it before you came in," Clancey let him know. "Truth be told the farmlands are void of any remedy I can consider, especially when Nick's condition is so uncommon. Arwendel may have people there that can help him, but there's no certainty. The trip itself is burdensome, I'd wager even when we arrive there the bulk of the Queen's healers will have joined the troops in the east."

  Ralof intervened. "There is a man up in Wayside, some ways west of Porthos, now that I think about it, dabbles in alchemy and the like, has done so for many winters, said to have herbs and other ingredients that can cure anything. He once cured a soldier of paralysis, stricken with the gaze of a basilisk no less."

  "What's that?" Serin asked.

  "A horrible serpent creature, supposed to send you into a crippled state just by staring into the serpent's eyes, that was the story the soldiers told me. Regardless, the draught recovered the soldier from his predicament."

  He spoke directly at Landau. "Your father is suffering something similar son, it might not work, maybe temporarily at best, yet it's all I can think left to try without a healer." Landau's hope grew and he turned to the Elder in relief.

  "How much would a draught like that go for?" asked Clancey.

  "Well…it's ninety gold, thereabouts."

  Landau was pleased, but saw the elders were clearly not.

  "Ninety gold?!" Serin shouted abruptly. "Man people in this village know nothing except silver, we could not possibly hope to…" he stopped, but Landau was smart enough to finish the sentence in his mind.

  "What's wrong? We have that right?" after a small silence Ralof produced a dismal smile.

  "Just because he is an alchemist son doesn't mean he's no thief, then in truth I'm unaware of the costs such elixirs are to create. I'm sorry I can't do more. I'll be returning up north tomorrow to join the infantry in Haldenshore, I will inquire on my travels for a cheaper option, though I know it does no good today. My apologies, all of you," before he shook the Elder's hand and headed out the door, just like that without another word he was gone.

  Landau continued to be unheard, perplexed where the medic was going, asking again what the problem was.

  "That's a lot of coin Landau," Clancey said. "We just don't see that kind of coin in our parts."

  "But you're rich Clancey, you just bought all those horses. Can't you spare us the gold?"

  "Landau," the Elder said softly, attempting to refrain him from his words.

  "You have all that treasure up there, just a little would help a lot. It's my dad," he cried with a treble in his voice.

  Clancey ashamedly looked upon Landau with sombre eyes, his aging heart found it tough to bear bad words to the boy, he knelt before him with a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

  "It's just not that easy lad," realizing the complication of explaining it before Landau's head hung in disappointment. "I mean my horses and the farm were more cashed in favors than coin Landau, my treasures have some value yes, but to nobody here, I'd have to venture to the capital, it could take…" he cut short, his words failed to give reprieve.

  Serin intervened, turning to Landau whose eyes were shimmering.

  "We all love your father Landau. We will find a way to help him."

  Clancey watched on in remorse, reaching into his pocket he extended his hand to Landau's, dropping into his palm the disfigured gold coin he presented him a month ago.

  "As promised," alas it was a small gesture compared to what Landau really wanted. He thanked him none the less and retreated upstairs to Timothy's bedroom, to remain in solace.

  Serin and Clancey were left to look on in helplessness, at each other and at Nicholas. His condition was degrading and it would eventually reach his heart, that day he grasped would be a far greater misery for Landau to bear.

  The next evening when everyone headed to bed Landau knelt by his father's side. He was not asleep, but it was becoming harder to tell, his body was becoming increasingly placid. For now he rested and stared at his son, yearning to say plenty with the energy to say little.

  "Landau," he spoke softly, and swallowed constantly, "you're a good lad my boy. They say I'm getting worse…I feel fine though. A little light in the knees maybe."

  Landau grinned and held his father's hands.

  "I know dad, it’s just everyone worries about you. I just…I feel like I'm not doing enough. I don't know what to do."

  "Don't worry son, nothing's going to happen to me. I'm gonna live forever," the very word difficult to deliver without shedding a tear.

  "I don’t wanna lose you dad, I mean you've taught me everything there is."

  "I never taught you to dance," Nicholas smirked as he coughed abruptly.


  Optimistic as he remained, Landau recognized the stubbornness of his father, that he was slowly losing this battle. Nicholas rolled over in exhaustion of his cough, and the conversation ended with his father laying there almost breathless. The slight movement of his thumb caressed his palm, it was encouraging, yet feelings remained of loss and helplessness.

  His father was never going to recover unless Landau could find the gold.

  After poking the logs in the fireplace to strengthen the flame he snuck upstairs to where Elliott was sleeping, the meagre noises he made were irrelevant to the boisterous sounds Elliott produced when he slept. Landau was careful to wake him, knowing the girls were asleep in the next room, he prodded Elliott gently in the shoulder.

  "What are you doin' Landau?" he said in half a yawn.

  "Elliott I need to show you something, it's a secret."

  "Now?" he whispered loudly, refrained from getting out of his warm bed.

  Landau reached over to his jumper, "Here put this on."

  "Where are we goin'?" Elliott became annoyed.

  Clandestine they descended down the stairs, Landau grabbed a candle and headed out the front door, escorting Elliott towards the village.

  It was early in the night and the streets were strangely empty, despite meandering around with a candle Landau and Elliott remained unseen, arriving at his home, careful not to make any more noise than Elliott's panting. His home was dark and unusually cold, a fire hadn't burned inside for weeks; dust rested upon the kitchenware and with the windows closed the house rendered a strange odor. Landau had seldom returned since moving to Whistling Mountain, mainly to feed the chickens and dispose of old food.

  "The one night I have off from the tavern and you drag me out of bed, asleep no less," Elliott protested.

  "Asleep. If you could hear yourself sleep, now I know why the Elder never took you camping that one time, every deer, rabbit and hawk would flee thinking you were a bear."

  "I didn't come here to be shamed. The Elder will have our heads if he catches us out this late Landau. What are you up to?"

  "Give me a moment," he said while he placed his candlestick on a table opposite the fireplace, away from any window to provide a faint light.

  In his small room Landau hurried to reach under the bed, from underneath he retrieved Clancey's book and brought it to the main room. Elliott glared at Landau when he set it on the table.

  "You said you were goin' to return that to Clancey."

  "I know," Landau started before he pulled out the folded map, holding the candle beneath it to reveal the moving landscape once more. "But I've been trying to make sense of this book for a couple of weeks now, went through every page but I have no way of knowing what it says. This map is weird though, no map I've seen ever details the surrounding lands like this, I mean Clancey says there's still lands undiscovered, but everything far as I can tell is here to see, look."

  They gazed at the epic scope of the terrain, Landau pointed to a region in the south. "I'm sure this is where we are on the map, I mean look at this book symbol, look where it floats, the streams, the mountains, they're all the same as here in Porthos."

  "Then why isn't Porthos on the map, or any villages in the farmlands?"

  It was a valid question, one Landau had queried before ciphering what he thought the obvious answer.

  "My guess is this map was made before then, by my understanding the capital isn't here either."

  "Arwendel?" said Elliott astonished, "but the capitals been there for hundreds of years."

  "Not just the capital, but the Imperial City," shifting his finger to the province of Astiroth where the Pale City should settle upon its centre. "From maps I've seen this is where it should be, but there’s nothing. It's possible this map was created before the Empire."

  "C’mon Landau, the Empire’s been ‘round longer than the capital has, the way the Elder goes on about it," he found it hard to fathom.

  "These symbols you noticed are odd though," he showed Elliott, the symbols glowed in gold against the backdrop of the land, scattered spaciously around the map, one even out to sea, all shaped to represent a clue as to their location. Landau's eyes focused intensely on them, they intrigued him and taunted him, he did not know why. He moved his candle beneath the southern symbol.

  "This one here is just to the east, in Evenn Woods, I wager we could get there within a couple hours and be back before anyone notices."

  "To the symbol? You don't even know what these symbols mean, it could be dangerous."

  "It's Evenn Woods Elliott, you know there's nothing there, hunters don't even go there because there's nothing to hunt. We've been many times before. The Elder won't know what we're up to."

  "What are we up to? What do you think you'll find?"

  Landau wondered whether excitement or desperation persuaded him, insistent he had made sense of it all.

  "Look dad's sick, and nobody has the gold to afford a cure for him. Elliott this may well be a treasure map. It was found in a treasure hunter's barn no less. If there's something of value that can afford my dad's medicine then I need to try. I can tell the elders aren't being honest with me and I know my dad's too stubborn to say, but he's getting worse. This is my only hope," he surmised. "What else could this map be telling us?"

  "I dunno, I feel like Clancey had this book buried in a barrel for a reason. I mean this map came from that book, you might not know what it says but it looks to describe an awful lot. It sounds too risky."

  He could tell he wasn't swaying him and Elliott was often on the wrong end of mischief.

  "Look if it's dangerous we'll head back home. Come on, after breakfast in the morning we can tell the Elder we're off to help Clancey, he never checks up on us, we have until dinner before anyone will get suspicious."

  "What about lunch?" was Elliott's first thought.

  "We can eat in the woods, not for the first time either."

  After a moment's thought Elliott agreed. He wasn't sure why he strived for Elliott to go, he could easily manage on his own, but since Elliott knew about the book he was likely to tell Clancey about it if he went missing. At least by his side he could trust him to keep the secret.

  The moon faded over the horizon and the morning sun welcomed itself briefly before thick clouds curtained the sky. Breakfast had finished and Landau dressed warmly, he collected some fruit from the Elder's kitchen and some candles, kissed his sleeping father's forehead and dashed out the front door. He gathered the map and book from his home along with his lantern, before Elliott arrived reluctant and noticeably unnerved.

  "You need to relax, we're still in the village."

  "Why bring the book, you can't read it?"

  "The map shows the book's location, it's our only way of knowing whether we're getting closer or not. You ready?" he asked without waiting for a reply, hurriedly locking his door before bearing east towards Clancey's farm.

  The boys scouted desperately to notice if anyone was near, lighting their candles off the blacksmith's fire pit they soon scurried off towards Evenn Woods. The autumn air was apparent when they ambled across the high grass, Elliott at least was pleased the Arens weren't hovering today. Still he kept a vigil eye, and both the boys remained silent, fearful they would be caught wandering off well equipped as they were. The sound of the sea slowly faded, alas a damp smell surrounded them despite no rain falling, they looked towards the clouds and wondered if it would. They forged a path through thick, towering grass, whipping at their waists as the eastern breeze gained strength. It took almost an hour with the weight they carried, the high grass stretched over many hills, but eventually they receded, replaced by stately trees, for they had arrived at the edge of Evenn Woods.

  The two stood there, like peeping through a stranger's open door they were hesitant to enter. Landau planted his bag on the ground and pulled free the map, removing the candle from its lantern to reveal its colors.

  "So how do we find it?" Elliott asked. The icon of the book had rel
ocated marginally from where it settled earlier, it was showing their location on the map. Landau passed the map and candle to Elliott.

  "We're getting closer, the map seems to show the symbol at the foot of the mountains."

  "Are you sure about this, we've never gone as far as the mountains before?"

  "Our candles won't last long walking about with them. We'll head for the mountain and go from there, it can't be too far," Landau hoped with little familiarity.

  Evenn Woods was an exhausted land of elm and cottonwood, home to Arens and other birds, apart from them there was a diminutive volume of wildlife here. People from Porthos never hunted here, they were fisherman and for good reason, for frogs and turtles were as big as they came; it was birds that ruled these woods, which made the forest trek encouraging. Not that Elliott took comfort in it, every surrounding noise magnified in his mind, a place so familiar suddenly felt haunting. Even in the light of day he gripped his lantern tightly in front of him. The soft rumble of thunder echoed down the valley, not enough to startle them but let them know that rain was imminent.

  For an hour they traipsed through the woods, stopping to rest themselves and eat some fruit, Elliott had not walked so much in a long while and found a thick broken branch to alleviate some of his weight. They moved further east, where the trees were thick with leaves, and their branches melded together to prevent any sunlight pouring through. Under cover of the lofty canopy Landau surveyed the map once more, and the book icon slowly edged closer to the marker they sought out.

  This part of the forest was beyond where they'd been before, the bush became dense and the ground was more rock than dirt, the edge of the mountain was near but they could travel no further without climbing over it. The mountain elongated for miles to the north and south, furthermore the mountain wall was troublesome to reach, for the woods became more jungle as trees grew in clunks and in odd directions. With the clouds overhead the time of day was hard to determine, and Elliott became more aggravated on getting in trouble. The day was young though, nearly noon in Landau's mind, and in a clearing they made camp a second time, not to eat but rest and behold the map to see their progress. Landau expected the book icon to overlap the golden symbol by now, but always it sat on its edge, and he conceived no way of getting closer.