Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

  Xith was cheerful as morning came but withdrawn to his thoughts. After a meager breakfast, Amir and several others went for a short hunt, which they should have done the previous night but had delayed. Soon, after cleaning their catch this day, they were putting distance between themselves and the place where they had camped.

  The air was cool and as they now moved through an area populated largely of oak, the rustle of crunching leaves beneath them was the predominant sound. For the most part, the trees were bare now, with few leaves that sought to hang on against the wishes of Mother-Earth. Some grew thankful for the sight of pine, which never lost its color. Its green appeared brighter amidst the brown.

  Noman watched Amir very carefully this day. He saw the tension in his muscles, which Amir sought to ease by flexing and massaging. Noman watched Amir play as if he held a blade in his hand, sweeping slowly about his body. Noman knew this was more than just practice or unease. Amir’s senses were very keen, and when he was agitated, the waiting preyed heavily upon him. Noman kept fully alert this day.

  Just before mid-day, they happened upon a traveler who journeyed alone. The man turned out to be a minstrel of sorts, and he passed a short while with them playing songs: songs of the sea beyond the forest and the city in the mountain, of green sky and blue lands. He was a pleasant fellow, and they paid him no heed, which was odd in itself. The singer never offered his name, nor did they ask. Neither did he ask for theirs, although in passing he did mention the name of Krepost’, the aerie on high.

  Xith turned cheerful thoughts now to the path that lay ahead of them. He had not been in the fair city in such a long time that he had forgotten the laughter and mirth it held, which was in strong contrast to its sister city deep within the forest. Even Noman recalled the place with fondness. Although he had not been there in a long time, he did not think it had changed much.

  Their camp this evening stood light, with only a single watchman. A low fire burned in a small hearth throughout the night. High overhead even the stars came out in force with a near-perfect moon in their midst. Amir passed the guard off to Shalimar who in turn gave it to Trailer, and then to Nijal; and if Nijal had known better, he would have counted the hours of his watch.

  The day arrived with a bit of rain. Although it was mostly a fine mist, it held a hint of ice. After a sluggish start and a short hunt, they returned to their path. They soon found themselves near the edges of the Krasnyj in a place where it raged in full fury, a sign that they were close to the fabled city. They took a much-needed reprieve alongside the cool, actually icy, waters, but they bathed and filled containers just the same.

  Adrina also seized the opportunity to rid herself of the filth of travel, and bathed in a secluded pool with only Amir to watch over her. He promised he wouldn’t look. Adrina bade him to turn his back nonetheless. The cold water took mental coaxing to enter, but she did, and once she was within it, it did not seem so uncomfortable.

  She leaned back, rinsing her hair. Pleasant, peaceful thoughts flowed through her mind. When she opened her eyes moments later she was shocked to see Tnavres withdrawn from her and in the water beside her. She wasn’t sure if the tiny dragon was swimming or floundering, but she stood and plucked him from the water all the same, chastising him with her finger.

  “Return,” she commanded in a harsh whisper. Tnavres glared at her, then locked his jaws around her hand. As his teeth plunged inward, the flesh of her hand turned to stone. She gripped her forearm and squeezed with all her might, trying to stop the progression.

  “No, no, no,” she whispered as tears streaked down her cheeks.

  “You don’t listen,” came the voice.

  “But I have listened. I gave you all I could. What more can I give?”

  “Tnavres will tell you when it is time. Do as you’ve been told.”

  “No,” she whispered.

  Tnavres entered her angrily, letting her know the force of his will. He sank into the flesh of her upturned palm, swept up within her arm and crossed her innards to his resting place in her belly. His mark was upon her right palm now where she could look upon it and remember.

  Adrina found that getting out of the water was even more difficult than entering. The air was colder against her skin than the water, and she did not wish to leave it, as much as she tried. “Amir,” she called out softly, but when he did not turn, she said it again louder, “Amir!”

  “Yes,” he said turning around.

  “Turn back around!”

  “My dear, what is it you wish of me?” asked Amir, knowing exactly what Adrina wanted.

  “Please hand me my wraps and without looking.”

  “I told you I won’t look.”

  “Just give them to me,” said Adrina standing up, reaching out to get the cloak Amir had in his hands. Amir made her walk a few steps to get them before he finally gave them to her. A smile lit his face as he turned away. Adrina’s face was flushed with both embarrassment and anger. He thought it suited her nicely.

  Adrina glared at him, and stomped back to where the others waited for her and Amir. “A little bit of privacy!” shouted Adrina as she retreated into the coach, throwing down its shades and locking the doors. Amir approached Xith. With a grin still on his lips, he went up to the carriage door and knocked on it two times.

  “What! What?” shouted Adrina, not opening the door.

  “You’ll want these,” said Amir.

  Adrina peeked out the window to see what he held, and then threw the door open. She was quick to grab the remainder of her belongings and then in anger, she touched her right hand to his shoulder. Amir chuckled, a deep, rolling laugh. The sound began as a trickle, and just as it rose, it stopped. Amir flexed his shoulders, and rolled his head to ease the stiffness.

  He dropped to one knee as he fought to draw his sword. “Noman!” he strained to scream, but nothing issued forth. An icy hand dealt him another blow, this time to the left shoulder. He turned his head to look at the creature he perceived behind him just as it stepped forward.

  Pain shot through his legs, then his back, and finally his arms. Wildly, he flailed the air using the last of his strength to lash out. He fell backwards to the ground with a thud, striking his head against the coach as he went down. As his world faded to darkness, Adrina closed the door to the coach.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Stone walls rose high and sheer about them. Calyin, Midori, and Edwar Serant wound their way among the many turns, delving deep into the shadows. A soft tapping sound followed their path, high above, though none below knew it. They walked in a single column with Midori to the fore and Serant to the rear, each leading one of the horses. They held to a slow, steady pace, carefully picking their way among the rocks and crevices. Frequently, they thought of Geoffrey and Captain Brodst.

  Ahead the canyon appeared to end in a solid rock wall, but still they made their way toward it, seemingly inch by inch. Lord Serant followed the lee of the river, not paying heed to the wall’s proximity to them. The churning of the water spoke volumes to him. Somewhere in front of them, the river’s path turned downward.

  The river gradually cut a deep course into the rock and a distance of only a few feet separated them from the waters. As the depth gradually increased, Lord Serant began to move away from the river’s edge, and it was here that he first noticed the etchings into the rock. A shallow path of sorts had been carved out of the rocks through years of wear. The path ran smooth and straight. He regarded it as a roadway of sorts and supposed that long ago this path had been heavily traveled.

  Some hours later they stopped to gather their bearings and to provide tired bodies with a bit of nourishment. The sheer wall looming immediately before them, jagged, tall and insurmountable, was perhaps an additional reason they had decided to stop. Here the trail ended, but they did not acknowledge its presence.

  A high, shrill sound from high above startled them, and all conversation stopped. The three drew their blades and watched, waiting as many figure
s slithered down ropes in front of them and to either side. Those across the river they did not fear, for they saw no way for them to traverse it, so they turned toward the others. Slowly, they sought to retreat.

  Serant flailed out with his foot, only to come upon empty air. He cocked his head back, and half turned to look. He saw the river swirling with white waters well below him. He turned quickly back to face those approaching with his eyes continually darting to the two at his side. A gleam, a glitter, he caught in Midori’s eyes, and anger was upon her face. She held her long dagger before her without wavering. Calyin gripped her blade with nervous hands, but she did not lower it as those that came closer demanded.

  Lord Serant looked again to Calyin and then to Midori. He quietly told them that should all else fail, the river was their safest route, no matter their thoughts on the subject. He touched Calyin’s hand one last time, and then moved forward two steps. Calyin moved towards him, but he pushed her back. “And just where will you be?” said Calyin into Serant’s ear.

  “Lower your blades; we mean you no harm. We only wish to separate you from your purse, and then we will leave you.”

  “Do as I say!” said Serant, hurriedly.

  “I will not go,” returned Calyin.

  “Tsk tsk!” shouted the man who now stood directly in front of Lord Serant; only their blades separated them.

  “Just what is it you want?” asked Serant, in a haughty deep bass.

  “Only your gold, nothing more, nothing less!”

  “You may have all the gold we carry if you leave us now.”

  “Give it to me, and we shall leave. You have my word.”

  “A word is a bond, is it not?” asked Serant, moving back a short pace.

  “Why, of course, of course. If a man cannot keep a promise, he is not a man.”

  Lord Serant fumbled through his cloak and retrieved a small leather pouch, which he tossed to the man. The man sheathed his sword, untied the small purse, and emptied the coins into his hand, counting each in turn, and shaking his head at each. “Surely you have more than this?”

  “That is all the gold I have.”

  “What of the ring on your finger and the gem on the crown of the hilt of your sword?”

  “They are not gold.”

  “Ah yes, but are they not worth their weight in gold?” questioned the man, raising his blade again.

  “Midori, I trust Calyin’s life in your hands. Do what you must!” called Serant pushing Calyin into Midori. He lowered his eyes to the waters of the river only for an instant, and then whispered, “I am sorry,” as he pushed them both over the edge, and into the waiting waters.

  “Bad, very bad. I do not like that, and when I do not like something, I usually kill the offender.”

  “Just as well. Today is a good day to die!” shouted Serant charging the man.

  “Not likely—” spoke the man as he called to his confederates.

  Lord Serant struggled under the weight of a heavy blow, and for an instant he stared through crossed blades into his opponent’s eyes. Only then did it become obvious to him that the man he faced was oblivious to his lineage, and perhaps he truly only wished his valuables, but Serant would not part with them. There were only a few tangible things he valued above all, and one was the ring that had been passed down through generations from father to son, and the other the sword of his forefathers.

  “One against dozens!” shouted a voice, yet a good distance away, “Not very fair at all!” Captain Brodst and Geoffrey wasted no time in their charge, sending men scrambling to avoid being trampled by horses’ hooves. Geoffrey raised his mount on its hind-legs just to the right of the one Serant fought, while Brodst offered a hand to Lord Serant. “We could not leave you, my friend. The farther we drew away from you, the heavier our hearts grew. Come, let us be off!”

  The two horsemen made a quick, decisive retreat. Lord Serant looked back, fixing upon the upturned face. “Another day!” called out Serant, “Another day!” The man sheathed his weapon and then turned his back to them. He did not order his men to pursue because he knew the time of their next meeting would be sooner than the other thought. Serant watched as the attackers withdrew, climbing back up their ropes.

  “Your timing couldn’t have been better!” exclaimed Serant patting Brodst on the back.

  “Where are Calyin and Midori?”

  Lord Serant brought a hand to his chin, “Oh my—” he thought. “The water—they are in the river.”

  “The river?”

  “Yes, the river. I didn’t see any other way.”

  Geoffrey and Brodst began to laugh because for a moment it seemed funny; but the feeling passed, and it suddenly was not humorous any more. Lord Serant scoured his thoughts, searching for a quick solution, which did not come. At the time, it had seemed his only choice, but now he knew it was a brash act. He did not like to think that he was a fool.

  “What in the name of the Father is that?” exclaimed Captain Brodst reining in his mount suddenly, so suddenly that Lord Serant almost lost his grip.

  “That is not of the Father, of this I can assure you,” replied Geoffrey. Even though he could not clearly see those that readily approached, he recognized them. He knew nothing good would come of their meeting. The hunter beasts had only one thought on their minds, and that was their prey. Geoffrey and Brodst began to turn their mounts around, back in the direction they had come; midway, they realized their dilemma.

  Neither Captain Brodst nor Lord Serant had seen anything like these before, but immediately they sensed danger and instinctively they reacted. Geoffrey bade them to return their weapons to their sheaths; as much as he hated to admit it, he knew this was an encounter they would lose, and he knew this as surely as he lived and breathed. A tiny voice in his mind hoped that perhaps they were not the objects of the beasts’ hunt, in which case they had nothing to fear.

  As the creatures drew closer, their distinctive features became quite noticeable. They had the appearance of men, but a thick, fur-covered hide enshrouded their forms. Their faces were long with an elongated snout, and white upturned fangs sprouted from their mouths. Even at a distance, Geoffrey could see crystalline droplets ooze from the nearest creature’s mouth, a sign that he was looking for.

  Geoffrey yelled for the captain to follow him and then retreated back down the canyon, the way they had come. Very soon they found themselves approaching the high canyon walls. Those waiting above rejoiced at the sighting, and one in particular had a broad grimace on his face. “Welcome back!” called out a now familiar voice.

  “What do we do?” asked Brodst.

  “This is not good, definitely not good.”

  “No, it is not.”

  As they turned their mounts around to face those that came up from behind them, the ravine, wherein lay the river, caught their eye, and more importantly the sound of rushing water caught their ear. Geoffrey did a mental calculation. He approximated the bandits’ numbers to be around twenty or perhaps a little more. He also knew their kind well enough to know a small reserve was probably waiting. It was at least a two-to-one ratio.

  He turned back toward the leader of the bandits. He wanted to get close enough to recognize the clan, but this was also his gravest mistake. As he staggered forward, the distances closed between the two forces. They found themselves in the middle of a stand-off, and he knew they were the prize.

  The pack leader of the hunters, who identified himself to the bandit chief as Ermog, dismounted at a careful distance and approached singly. He called the bandit chief to a council of words, and though he spoke in the tongue of man, his speech was slurred and did not carry well. Only the other’s words carried fully to their ears, and it was these words that sparked Geoffrey’s interest.

  In the interim, he conversed with Serant and Brodst, speaking quietly, stopping as the two spoke, and starting again in low whispers, passing his concerns on to them. The bandit leader had recognized Geoffrey and thus discovered the identities of
those that accompanied him. He was playing with Ermog for the price of the bounty. Geoffrey knew the teachings of the histories and the passing down of the sons of the fathers and the realms, but the Borderlands were a realm outside all else. Nowhere did the histories speak of the Bandit Kingdoms or the Hunter Clan, societies that were older than that of the Great Kingdom but had never gained recognition in civilized circles.

  Geoffrey understood the references to blood and sword, coin and fist, and as the two leaders returned to their ranks, he knew what he must do. He dismounted slowly, signaling for Serant and Brodst to do the same. He made sure they made no sudden movements, and he maintained his speech in low whispers. After a close but limited survey of the ledge and the waters below, they jumped, hoping and believing the river would carry them away to safety.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Valam waited patiently for Mikhal and Danyel’ to return with the scouting party. The group of riders, anticipated to be large, turned out to be only the small band that had been dispatched earlier and a large group of strayed horses. His eyes lit as he saw Mikhal and Danyel’ race their mounts toward the place where he waited. He did not waste any time with pleasantries and quickly invited the two to accompany him.

  The three went to Valam’s quarters, where Teren yet waited without saying a word to anyone else. Teren listened intently as Valam spoke to the others, waiting for the correct time to speak his mind also.

  “Prince Valam, if I may interrupt for a moment. You are missing the most important point. The four of us were given the gift of sight for a reason, a very specific reason. We merely saw you move through the steps. You must decide for yourself, but remember this in your decision. Choose your path with great care and follow it through to its completion.”