The Secret of Azuron (The Sword Empire Book 1)

by J. R. Kearney

  "But you heard him last night, he says that all those people he killed were bad people, isn’t that a good thing?"

  "Could you so readily kill someone, even if they were a bad person? People aren’t born bad, they’ve simply just lost their way. Jema believes in justice, and would send them to prison instead, not always for the sake of punishment. Assassins don’t give those people a chance."

  Landau peeked out the tent flaps to witness the guards throw mud on the assassin’s cowl, and though they laughed, Raminus offered no retort.

  "I can’t help but pity him, I don’t know why," he admitted.

  "Don’t buy into his words Landau, they are meant to be deceiving, that’s what they do. He would want you to feel sympathy, only to turn it against you. Do you forget he held a knife to you in Merchant’s Wall?"

  "No, I get why he needs to be tied, but tormenting him seems wrong. Back home Melly used to throw mud at Elliott, but always in good fun. It’s different I suppose. What about him annoys Jema so much? Is he always this angry?"

  Sam opened the tent flaps himself, as if to gauge whether Jema could hear him or not.

  "You’ve gotta understand kid, this is personal for Jema, perhaps too much."

  "What do you mean?"

  "It was assassins that killed the Emperor," said Sam. "Not just the Emperor, but the Arcane Order too, completely wiped them out."

  "His people killed the Emperor?" Landau couldn’t believe it.

  "Not his people, but others like him, though these weren’t from any guild, more a cult. The Shadowri they were called, they had been plotting for years on how to achieve it. Not for the sake of gold either, it was meant to bring chaos, and in the end I guess it did. Jema and the Emperor were close from what I’ve learned, he still grieves that he wasn’t there to save him. The war in Heimmarch that he speaks of was just a ploy by this Shadowri, to lure the Legion from the city to leave it vulnerable. The Pale City has never fully recovered from the attack, and Jema would do everything to prevent it happening in Arwendel. Raminus might just be another assassin Landau, but in Jema’s eyes he’s no different to these Shadowri folk. We don’t know yet who gives these contracts to them, or how they are given, but they kill who are they told. The fact some victims were guilty of foul deeds is a coincidence. They’re killers Landau…nothing more."

  The warm light of his candle flickered in his lantern and Landau could not sway his gaze, for his eyes could not rest, and though Sam slept soundly beside him he could find no similar comfort in a place so foreign, so he lay there awake. The ambience of the land was quiet, no bird or insect sounded throughout the night, only short gasps of a breeze could he hear, and not from the elements. He stepped outside his tent to find Jema, though he was absent from their camp, but the sound persisted, and he realized it was the restless breathing of the assassin. With lethargy he puffed and wheezed, and though he sat it appeared as though he hung, for his arms were stretched out and twisted above his sides.

  Before Landau was a canteen, he hesitated to pick it up, for Jema had denied the assassin any rations since they left, but despite his villainy Landau could not bear his weariness. Quietly he moved toward him, and a metre from him did Raminus take notice, raising his head as though it were heavy, with an exhausted stare upon his face. Landau held out the canteen, his once serpent eyes now appeared limpid, his face bruised from Jema’s gauntlet, and fatigue prevented him from offering any words. The assassin couldn’t understand his charity, and long he stared in confusion of it, still as Landau inched the canteen closer to his mouth he craved it, and with yearning he drank.

  "Landau?!"

  The canteen rattled in his hand, turning to see Jema behind him with a glare beaming from his brow. He moved to stand over them, and though Landau thought to explain himself he remained silent, even Raminus offered no words, and resumed to hang his head in fatigue.

  "Go back to your tent Landau," he said calmly, and quickly he did.

  He crawled tightly into his bedroll, anxious that he had done wrong, and waited for Jema to ask questions of his stupidity. A silence ensued, and he expected either of them to utter bitter words to the other. Instead the knight relinquished any harsh remark, and Landau listened as his boots walk beyond his tent to return to his patrol.

  When morning drew upon them Jema had already returned them to the road, now at a hastened step they proceeded north, where the wind brought a breeze tainted with the chill of the northern lakes. Each passing day brought Landau further discomfort, and the absence of his friends weighed heavy in his thoughts. He longed to ask Jema of Clancey and his purpose for leaving, but since their split the knight had given him little regard, his attention was plainly elsewhere.

  The assassin grew irritated at his shackles, and his silence beget a greater disturbance, yet thus far the threat of his allies had not presented itself, and Raminus was resigned in attempting to flee. He appeared collapsed atop his horse, his wrists were bruised and red, though Jema continued to give him no sorrow.

  Before breakfast their company arrived at the town of Toebank, a small town of stone houses surrounded by pointed wooden fences that harbored cramped gardens. More than two dozen farms stretched along the road, and already townsfolk were busy tending to them, staring upon their strange company. Further up the road buildings became more prominent, houses where doorways comprised of no doors, only sheets and cloth covered their opening, all except the inn in the center of town. Here a fire-pit burned in the morning draft, though none settled to enjoy its warmth, many it seemed were busy with their chores, and few gave them notice, and here Jema chose to halt his horse, as soldiers revealed themselves from different abodes to welcome him, and to take the assassin into their keeping. The knight’s route was now elsewhere.

  "Avoid Ravenwood if you can," Jema spoke to Arteus, "I cannot trust to his allies in such places. Seek out Grennan in Arwendel, from there he will escort the prisoner to his cell, and you will be rewarded for your efforts. Until you reach the capital, always be on your guard."

  The guards gave him a salute, yet despite his lethargy Raminus would not let him leave without a parting jeer.

  "You preach your word to protect the Queen, yet you bring me to her doorstep. You will always be a fool Jema."

  "I cannot suffer your presence for so long whelp. When I see you again it will not be in pleasant circumstances, and this is pleasant," but Raminus only threatened further.

  "You work effortlessly to find our people, but I have no doubt they will find you first. Continue to hold your head high, as long as you have it." Though his voice was weak it continued to stir, and soon the company of soldiers took him away, yet Jema would not leave until they disappeared beyond sight.

  "You don’t think he’s serious do you?" worried Samson.

  "Empty words that hold no regard, we will ignore them," turning to Landau. "I’m sorry you had to endure that son, but his villainy could not avoid my attention, as you so perilously saw. Until I know he is behind bars I will not be content, at least in his absence we can find some peace."

  Landau shook his head, void on what to say.

  "But keep your wits about you," Jema warned, "you will need them where we are headed, and you will soon see why."

  Chapter 10

  DETOUR INTO DARKNESS

  Here Jema abandoned the town to traverse the Pelaglaid westward within a glen of hills, and along these grasslands they rode for several days. Fields of cliffrose and sagebrush dotted the plains, the Pelaglaid was void of trees save for the conifers and pines that dwelled in the valleys, yet Jema avoided these, always riding the highest hill. The shores of Taperel glistened in the south, but too distant to cool the breeze that drove from the east. For days Landau wondered where Jema was leading them, he spoke of the Yalthume as if through warning, yet only grasslands short and soft did he see.

  One growing afternoon Jema hastened his pace, and charged westward as though the sunset chased them. Landau held Samson close as the squire gallope
d his horse to match Jema's celerity, his velvet cloak bellowed in the wind, at this speed they carried on for most of the evening, their horses dynamic to maintain such a feat as they stormed the humble glen for miles, when on the horizon loomed a dark wall.

  The closer they approached, Landau discovered the wall was a foreboding fortification of trees, with great uncertainty he waited for Jema to detour north, where the grassy dale expanded generously toward the Roaming mountains, but ultimately the horses maintained their heading, until they arrived at the foot of the shadowy woodland.

  Like a tangled army of distorted branches, the trees hedged like sentries, forbidding any access beyond its border, and in the eventide light Landau could barely scope anything past the hedgerow. Jema rode north alongside it for close to a mile, before arriving at a moderate opening, in the setting sun the entrance appeared anything but hospitable. Jema halted his horse, he and Sam ignited some lanterns by their side, and turned to see the disheartened look on Landau's face.

  "This is the Yalthume son, an old forest protected by the wolf guardians. If this place looks foreboding then it is intentional, for the guardians protect this forest diligently, and because of its appearance few dare to pass through. Leave the forest be and no harm will occur. Stay close to me," he ordered Sam.

  Regardless of Jema's assessment Samson felt Landau's grip tighten around his waist, and they cantered forward along an obscure path that twisted through the Yalthume.

  With the sun absent the woodland stirred the thoughts of Landau, beyond Jema's stallion was a darkness unrivalled to any other he'd experienced, his mind constantly afraid of something lurking in the woodland shadow. Despite the entrance still marginally in sight, he stressed how much farther they needed to proceed, he focused to feel unafraid, but in the thriving shade he swelled with insecurity.

  Through the tunnelling path of the forest Jema seemed composed but ever cautious, murmuring to Kilian to calm itself while his dim lantern light guided them carefully forward. Trees appeared sinister, charred and disfigured the branches stretched in accrued yet random directions, and often collided with each other. Their horses tread carefully to avoid the large roots that bulged from the soil like timbered tentacles, shielded with malignant thorns that shimmered against the glow of their lantern. If there was grass here then Landau couldn't see it, for the terrain was a graveyard of woodland debris, and every twig that cracked beneath the horses' hooves echoed in the hollow silence.

  They weaved along an umbrous path of Jema’s choosing for hours, it was easy to feel themselves lost in a maze of gnarled timber, but soon the path opened to a large expanse of forest, where below them a vale of crooked trees intertwined across the plain, and from above Landau couldn't determine any clear way to continue. The moon was present here however, and put Jema's lantern to shame, yet the night sky and shadowed horizon melded into one ominous darkness, and gave little insight to where the forest ended. Jema hardly paused before manoeuvring his horse slowly through the vines that enveloped them. The trek downward was complicated, yet Jema opted to remain on his horse, careful to avoid the sharp thickets that blanketed their passage, the woodland adamant in dispensing harm to the unwary. Eventually they found the valley floor where a path became more obvious, and Jema led them westward through a narrow clearing. Landau was astounded at the vast imagery of it all, how something formidable and perilous coexisted next to the grassland glens they had arrived from bewildered his understanding of nature.

  In the graveyard silence, a howling wolf hollered its cry in the distance. In spite of its chilling call Jema soldiered on, yet Landau shuddered at the sound, and could tell Samson wasn't completely comfortable with it either.

  "Is that a wolf?" Landau whispered in Samson's ear.

  "Yes it is," Jema bellowed from in front, cantering forward as though the way was known to him. "This is their forest, and they are reminding us as such."

  Landau was dismayed by the volume of Jema's voice, scouting in worry that he wasn't the only one to hearken it. The knight eased his horse to pull alongside Samson, a censured frown drafted upon Landau's face.

  "How you holding up son?"

  "I've just never known a forest like this before. It feels…sick."

  "It is not a product of the fall. It was once a great elven kingdom, during the age of the Archaians, though none dare explore inland to give validity to such hearsay. It has been this way for millennia, long before Anduniel came to these lands. Nothing grows here, nor does it die entirely, like it's frozen in time."

  "Who are the Archaians?" he replied, Jema smiled at his naivety.

  "I suppose religion isn't common in the south-lands. The Archaians, our creators if you believe such things, perhaps you’ve heard them referred to as Ancients. There are those that believe we are simply a design in the Archaian's eye, all races of Heldorn in fact. Created for their own amusement I suppose," he said satirically.

  "Do you believe in them?"

  "Our Queen still holds true to some of the older beliefs, though you would need to travel far to find someone else who does, I'm sure the elves persist with it. I try not to burden myself with yesteryear son, there is too much in the present to concern myself with to worry about the past. That's where my attention rests."

  "Do you think they see us?" Sam asked Jema, his eyes constantly scouted the moonlit maze of trees.

  "Yes," he replied with certainty. "From the moment we stepped across their border."

  They continued for a solid two hours, the noises resounding through the woodland were few, the nocturnal sonance Landau was familiar with back home was absent in such a dispirited wood. Eventually in the thick of night Jema dismounted his horse on a cliff's edge that overlooked the Yalthume valley, the moonlight vaguely revealed the woodland landscape, and it was hard to determine whether they had made much headway.

  "We shall rest here for the night," Jema unpacked his sleeping gear and prepared to make camp.

  "You think it's a good idea to start a fire in the Yalthume? Won't that annoy the protectors?" inquired Sam.

  Jema grabbed a handful of broken sticks, not perturbed by Samson's query.

  "Guardians they are, and no, it is not uncommon. However, know that their watchful eye is upon us, they will tolerate our presence here, but are far from trusting. They are neither ally nor foe, and will be suspicious of those traveling the Yalthume willingly. This is as safe a place as any, still do not wander."

  Jema started a fire with tools Landau couldn't identify, impressed how efficient his survival skills were in the wild.

  "Are they dangerous, these people that guard the forest?" Landau was curious, though Jema was troubled to answer.

  "I have dealt with the guardians before, they are uninterested in the quarrels that exist outside these woodlands. Their disposition is neutral, so they will not fray with us unless provoked, and they are frightful. They have accepted us into their home and we will be suitable guests."

  Within minutes of preparing the fire Jema settled the horses, before he disappeared onto the cliff's edge to enjoy some darkleaf on his lonesome. Landau and Sam were left to eat their meal by the fire, feasting on produce which was rather bland, compared to the farm stock back home.

  Removed from Jema's leering scowl, Samson’s presence reminded him much of Timothy. Still Landau could not help but surmise Jema, whispering questions so the knight could not hear.

  "Why does he constantly sit by himself? Is it something I did?"

  Sam forced a gaze upon Landau, suggesting the answer was complex.

  "It's not a simple question to answer Landau. I'm sure the assassin is still playing on his mind, but I think Jema often dwells on the past, despite what he says. He’s famous for what he’s achieved in life, but I can't begin to imagine what he's lost along the way, the life of a knight is not always glamorous kid. When I first got chosen to train for the army I was full of excitement, I thought about adventure and riches and fame, all those things kids imagine knights to aspi
re to. But early on they tell you quite bluntly that the life of a soldier is an unfulfilled life. There's no rest, no end to what you set out to achieve, it's all about doing your service to your side of the war. Ultimately the goal for any soldier is to make a difference, no matter how small, whatever that takes. In the end all those small differences can make a change for the better. Sounds discouraging doesn’t it?" Sam smiled. "It's by no means a straight path to glory kid, Jema has no doubt dealt with many obstacles along the way, even before my time."

  "What kind of obstacles?"

  "He once defeated one of the Cyclops of Skellian, that tale is pretty famous among the other squires, all on his own, with only a sword. Aurora he calls it, though it sounds like some entrancing maiden it’s actually dwarven, roughly it means ‘Giant Slayer’. He's brought amity to countless cities, claimed victories in many wars. He's a hero, could have retired a hero years ago, but still he spends his time fighting for good."

  "How come you disagree with him sometimes?"

  "It's not my place if I'm honest," said Samson. "A squire shouldn't question their master. I like to think I know it all, growing up with three sisters will do that to you, sometimes it’s hard to be told constantly how to behave. I know he means well, in a lot of ways he's been a father figure more than a mentor, I guess I never had that growing up," Sam confessed while he poked the fire to spread its warmth.

  Landau detected a glimpse of Sam similar to his own, to leave his family to pursue some quest.

  "Do you have any family - in the city I mean?"

  "Just me. I left my hometown of Arc from across the bay, more than three years ago now. I have some friends here who I've met through training, all aspiring knights also, but I haven’t seen my family since. Apart from them there's Julia, my heart's desire you could say."

  "You’re married?" Landau assumed.

  "No, no…I've only known her for over a year, but in a place filled with all those pristine and proper sorts, she is perhaps the only genuine diamond in that jewelry box, if you know what I mean. Jema doesn't entirely approve, relationships are seen as a distraction and take the focus off our training, but it's no distraction. We've been away from the city for weeks now, Julia knows as well as I the hardship of such a relationship. I won't lie when I say I yearn to see her beautiful smile again. Maybe I'll introduce you when we arrive there."