by Liam Reese
As they rode, the forest began to grow sparser around them, and soon they left the thick cover of trees behind. The road here grew more defined, growing straighter and lined with gravel unlike the winding forest path. Croenin stretched, and now that he had grown used to riding the past week, he was much less stiff and sore in the saddle. As he stretched, raising his head, he saw a small dot in the distance.
“What’s that?” He wondered aloud.
“That,” Captio answered, “is Conclatum. We’ll be staying in an inn there tonight, owned by a friend of the Faero Ursi.”
At that Saed grinned. “Ah, a real inn…with real ale!” He exclaimed. “None of the watered-down stuff they try to pass off as ale in the dining hall.”
“We aren’t going to blow off steam, brother.” Captio said slowly. “We are going for information and rest.”
Saed rolled his eyes and smirked, whispering to the others, “So he says.”
Croenin was silent, trying to imagine what Conclatum would be like. He had read stories on parchments given to him by Captio, telling the history of the settlement. It was one of the largest Aes Sidhe settlements, abandoned early on in the war. Humans had moved in rather quickly, setting up businesses, inns, and houses. By the time the Sidhe were completely driven out of Toque Staetym, it became the first bustling human settlement. As they approached Conclatum, Croenin’s eyes grew wide. The obsidian and oryn walls surrounding the city were huge, towering over the travelers. Captio raised a hand in greeting to the guards in the squat wooden guard house, and as the heavy gates were opened, Croenin gasped. The black stones, set in place with grey and black marbled oryn stood in stark contrast to the pale, limestone streets and buildings inside. It was beautiful, and Croenin had never seen such sophisticated architecture.
“Stay close, lad,” Saed told him, amused at Croenin’s astonishment. “It’s a lot to take in at first, but we can’t have you getting lost because you were ogling some columns.”
“Or the people,” Carus added, staring openly at a group of giggling women passing their small party.
“Come,” Captio said, setting down the main road. “We have much to talk about before night falls.”
They arrived at the inn a short time later, handing off their horses one by one to an overwhelmed stable boy around Croenin’s age. Carus stayed behind to give instructions on the care of their unique animals to the young man, and the others went inside. It was warm, Croenin noticed, and incredibly homey. The low ceilings of the building reminded him of his own cottage, but the similarities ended there. He scanned the room, taking in an array of colorful figures seated at long wooden tables, gambling and talking loudly, red-faced from large pitchers of ale. Walking through the middle of the room, balancing a platter of food and ale, was a short, older woman, her greying brown hair pulled back and partially covered under a blue scarf. She slammed down the platter at a table of already-drunk men, giving them a wary look before turning to Croenin and the brothers. Upon seeing Captio, her face lit up.
“Well,” she crowed, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” She rushed to hug him, crushing him around the waist with her thick arms. She pulled back and brushed off her apron. “It’s been months, boy!”
Captio blushed, frowning. “I’ve had quite a bit to do since Jovius died, Fausta. I’m the master now, and I have many more responsibilities. You have to understand that I’d have come if I could.”
Fausta sighed. “I understand,” she said softly, placing a hand on her breast. “May Jovius rest well. Sit,” she ordered and pointed to a clear table near the back of the room. “I’ll have ale and mutton brought out in a bit, and you,” she pointed at Captio, “will tell me everything I’ve missed.”
She rushed off to the kitchen, and Croenin followed the brothers to the empty table.
“Is she the friend you mentioned?” Croenin asked as he sat.
“Of course. Fausta knows everything that happens in this region. Those that stay here don’t only pay their way in food and provisions, they must also pay in stories.”
“And if you tell her something she doesn’t know, she’ll tell you one in return,” added Carus as he joined the group.
Suddenly, Croenin understood. “You’re going to ask her about my sister.”
Captio shook his head. “I’m going to ask about Gallys. She won’t be able to tell us if the girl in his castle is the one we are searching for, but she can give us a better idea of what we are walking into.” He paused as Fausta returned, carrying a tray weighed down with meat, bread, and ale for the table. “At least, that is my hope.”
“Well,” she said, squeezing in between Saed and Carus, staring intently at Captio from across the table, “what do you have for me?”
The thin man smiled sadly, and told her of the previous master’s death. Croenin had assumed that Captio had been the master for a while. Though young, he seemed so self-assured in his role, something that Croenin assumed had come from experience. Yet, Captio had only become the master a few months before Croenin’s arrival, after the previous master died of a mysterious illness.
“I hadn’t seen anything like it,” Captio said, flexing his hands with latent frustration. He had worked tirelessly to save Jovius, but his efforts had been futile.
“What do you mean?” Fausta asked and leaned forward, eyes wide and shining.
“It began like a normal fever, and he complained of a headache. I prescribed bed rest and made the usual tinctures, but a week passed with no improvement. He was perpetually flushed, and constantly complained of his head feeling too hot. That was the first odd symptom.” He paused, taking a sip of ale.
Croenin watched Aulys, Carus, and Saed. All three looked somber, and Saed looked somewhat angry, frowning as he stared at the table.
“And the other symptoms?” Fausta asked.
“He started bleeding from the mouth, then eyes, then ears. I thought it was perhaps the same sickness that plagued that village in the east a few years ago, but then his fingertips began to turn black. From there, the blackness spread, and soon his extremities were consumed. He died like that, limbs and face blackened.” He looked up at Faustia. “Have you heard of anything like it?”
“No, I’m sorry, but I haven’t,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry Captio. I’m sorry for all of you. He was a great man, and his time here ended far too soon.”
The table was silent for a while, out of respect for Jovius’ memory, but Croenin was horrified. He had heard of an illness quite like that, had witnessed it himself in his village. When he was no older than ten, he had watched a mother running through the village, crying and carrying her toddler toward Old Haega’s cottage. The child’s legs had turned black below the knee, and she was unconscious, face flushed with fever. She had eaten the berries of the hyssia bush while playing with her siblings, mistaking them for blueberries. Such a mistake was deadly, and his grandmother had been unable to save the child. Croenin wondered if Jovius or one of the cooks in the keep had made the same mistake. Or did someone give them to him on purpose? Croenin frowned. No one at the table seemed to know hyssia berries existed, and he briefly wondered if they were unique to his part of the region before putting the thoughts out of his head. This wasn’t his problem. He had more important things to think of, like what he would do if Ayne was truly at Gallys’ castle.
“Now, what can you tell us?” Captio asked, breaking the silence and startling Croenin out of his thoughts.
“What would you like to know,” Fausta responded, a smile playing at the edges of her lips.
“What can you tell us about Gallys?”
“Hm, so that’s why you’re here. I can’t tell you much more than you probably already know. Not much news enters or leaves his place.” She leaned back, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I used to get people from the village near the castle doing business here all the time. Though that all stopped shortly after Gallys started parading around with that old Aes Sidhe circlet he found while trolli
ng around that old, dark castle.”
“What was he doing in the castle?” Carus asked, frowning.
“What any old fool might do, letting curiosity get the better of him. Leave those old things alone, I say. Nothing good can come from touching what the Aes Sidhe left behind.”
“You believe the circlet is the cause of what is happening there.” Captio said.
“That I do. You know there have been whisperings,” Fausta beckoned them closer with her hand so that they all leaned in. She glanced at the rest of the room, content they were all absorbed in their own conversations before continuing. “Have you heard of humans having Aes Sidhe Blood?”
Croenin gasped, eyes widening. He held his breath, expecting the others to notice, but they didn’t. They were all too focused on Fausta to notice his reaction.
“I’ve heard stories,” Captio responded. “But I didn’t believe them.”
“I think there’s more weight to them than you’d think,” she countered. “A lad passed through my inn a little over a month ago and asked that I tell no one he was staying here. I gave my word, granted that he told his story. He seemed reluctant, but gave in once I took him to the back where no one would hear.” She paused to take a sip of ale, and Captio thrummed his fingers on the table impatiently.
“And?” he demanded.
“And he told me that he had escaped from another Aes Sidhe castle, far in the west of Toque Staetym, where a group of men and women tried to force him to join their little group. He claimed he and the others all held Aes Sidhe blood of varying degrees, that his own great-great-great-grandfather had been a minor Aes Sidhe noble.”
“How do you know he wasn’t lying?” Aulys asked, crossing his arms.
“I can always tell a liar, even the best can’t get past me,” she huffed. “Either way, he had made his escape when he was sent out to collect artifacts left over from the Aes Sidhe’s time here, along with another member of the group. Sícharae, he called these items.”
“Why would they take them? What could come of it?” Captio asked.
“It seems that whatever Aes Sidhe used in their day to day, they left a sort of residue on, enchanting the items.”
“Like they left a part of themselves,” Saed said quietly.
“Exactly. If these people are trying to gather these items, they know what they are and what they can do.”
“They might want to use them, then. To rule like the Aes Sidhe did.” Captio said, frowning. “I’ll send scouts that way. How far away is Gallys’ castle from here?”
“About a day’s ride,” Fausta responded.
“Do you mind me using your inn as a sort of headquarters for the time being?” Captio stood, stretching. “It seems we have two pressing matters at hand instead of one.”
“Of course not!” Fausta grinned. “You know how much I love being in the thick of it!”
“I’m glad to hear it. Finish quickly,” he told Croenin and the men, “when you are done, ask Fausta to show you to our rooms. We must discuss our plan for tomorrow.”
With that he turned, following Fausta up the rickety stairs a few feet from their table. When he had gone, Saed spoke.
“Well, you’ll be getting more of an initiation than any of us had,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.
Croenin merely nodded silently. There were others like him and Ayne. He wondered if they had abilities like they did, and if they knew what was coming. He also felt cheated by the burden that was placed on him. Why us, he asked himself. Why me and Ayne? Why does it fall on us and not them? He had no answer, and that bothered him greatly. It didn’t seem fair that his life had to be uprooted, that his sister was taken and had set herself against him. Saed noticed his somber look and pushed a piece of mutton toward him.
“Eat, lad, or you’ll just feel worse.” When Croenin remained silent, he pressed him. “What’s the matter? Why so quiet all of a sudden?”
Croenin stared at him, pushing down a feeling of panic that was threatening to bubble over. “The world just got a lot more complicated,” he croaked.
“You can say that again,” Aulys sighed, grabbing a large piece of meat for himself.
“The Aes Sidhe may be gone,” Carus chimed in, “but they’re still messing with human affairs.”
“We take things one thing at a time,” Saed said, trying to keep his brothers optimistic. “We focus on getting Croenin’s sister back, and then we’ll deal with this new problem. No complaining about it until after we’ve stormed Gallys’ castle.”
“Or Eudys’,” Carus said around a mouthful of mutton. “Captio said we don’t know exactly where she is.”
Croenin couldn’t take any more of that sort of talk, already feeling overwhelmed by the new information Fausta had revealed. He rose, telling the brothers he was going to find Captio, and headed upstairs, assuming he’d be able to find the master in the small inn on his own. As he entered the cramped upstairs hallway, he realized he had been wrong. Faced with a series of doors, he was forced to turn and head back downstairs to find the owner of the inn. As he turned, he collided with a young girl carrying a basket of linens.
“So sorry!” He exclaimed, crouching to help her pick up the laundry. “I was just going to find Fausta.”
The girl smiled. “You’re one of the Faero Ursi, aren’t you?”
“I am! I mean not yet…I will be, though,” Croenin stammered.
“Your brother is in the room at the end of the hall.” She pointed, giggling. “If you need anything else, let me know.”
He merely nodded, and quickly made his way to the room, knocking in the pattern he had been taught.
“Enter,” Captio called from the other side, and Croenin did, quickly closing the door behind him. “Where are the others?”
“Still downstairs eating,” Croenin responded before sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace.
“Hm. No matter. I don’t mind repeating our plan for them later. You know we shall all enter the castle, yes?” he asked. Croenin nodded, and he continued. “I’ll be first, snatching a guard’s clothes from him when one ventures out into the village. Saed and Carus will do the same once I am in the castle and leave a message for them on the outside, so we know that we can come and go without suspicion. You and Aulys will enter as servants. Saed will escort you in. I have peasant clothes for you both.” He glanced down at Croenin’s boots. “Those should be fine. You came to us with those, yes?”
“I did.” Croenin fingered the side of his left boot, where the moonstone dagger was hidden.
“Alright. Once we are inside, you’ll make your way to where the servants are housed. I’m sure Gallys thinks of himself as a true king, so he’ll want himself separate from those who serve him.” He crossed his arms, deep in thought. “When you find the girl, and if she is your sister, you will tell her to wait for us to come for her at night. I’m sure Gallys has his guards patrol, so it shouldn’t be difficult for Saed, Carus, and I to move through the castle at that time. I will pass along a message to you during the evening for when and where to meet us for us to leave. I unfortunately won’t know the best exit until we are in the castle. Do you understand all of this?” Croenin nodded. “Good. We’ll touch base in the morning. Your room is to the right of mine. Get some rest. You’ve done well these past few days.”
Croenin left him, and fell onto the bed exhausted shortly after entering. His mind didn’t have time to race with thoughts about the mission, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.
4
Croenin awoke at dawn, light from the small slit of a window hitting him in the face. He rose quickly, realizing he was still wearing his clothes from the previous day. Shrugging, he left the room and knocked on Captio’s door. There was no answer, so he headed downstairs. Captio and the rest of the brothers were seated at a long table near the kitchen door, already eating eggs, sausages, and bread. Saed patted him on the back as he sat, smiling fondly.
“Your initiation,” he boomed. “Are you re
ady?”
“Not at all,” Croenin responded, grabbing a sausage.
The other brothers laughed, but as the laughter died down, Captio merely said “You never really are ready to move up in ranks” and was quiet.
Croenin, trying to take his mind off what lay before him asked “How do you become master of the Faero Ursi?”
Captio looked up, frowning. “The previous master chooses you before his death.”
“So Jovius chose you?”
“In a sense. Of course, Jovius could no longer speak, and he had lost the use of his limbs. We were without a master for some weeks, as a master had never died before naming a successor, but once the key to his desk was removed from around his neck, his locked desk drawer was opened, and a sort of will was found inside.”
“A will? I thought Faero Ursi didn’t own anything?”
“Well, no,” Captio said, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Everything we have belongs to the brotherhood. But Jovius left a set of directions for after his death, and in them I was named his successor.” He looked down, thinking about the old master.
