The Brotherhood (The Eirensgarth Chronicles Book 1)

by Philip Smith

  They were still in the forests, but a definite and drastic change was occurring as they continued to ascend away from the main valley passes and into the rocky crags of the Raychel Range. Each step took them further away from the Shauds, but also deeper into the wilderness. The pine trees became taller and more dominant, and the ground was rockier than in the forests back home. Boulders of immense proportions became more of a hindrance now, blocking the deer trails and small paths they used as often as they could find them.

  The princess shielded herself from the elements by a small outcropping of rock above her as she leaned against the rough boulders around the campsite Woodcarver had chosen. She laid on a sweet smelling bed of pine needles Broadside had made for her and pulled her heavy wool cloak tighter around her. Robert laid his spare cloak atop her, hoping to aid her violent shivers.

  Soon enough, she stood, wiping the tear stains off her cheek. But fresh, hot tears trickled down her face to the ground below.

  Hanburg.

  The man had only met her days ago, but in the short time she had been with him, he had shown kindness she’d thought left this world with the death of Papa. Now Abenya would never see her father again either, if she was even still alive. Woodcarver guessed the village had been raised to the ground like Kapernaum, otherwise Hanburg would not have just left to give them a final warning. The thought of Abenya dead made the ache of losing Hanburg all the worse, and she clutched her cloaks about her neck tighter than ever.

  The others sat soberly around a tiny, pathetic fire that hissed and popped with the wet wood being added to it. The pine wood was so damp in the moist, foggy, mountainous air that the little flames wheezed and sputtered like a dying man’s last breath. Like Hanburg’s last breath, constricted and gurgling with his own blood. She tried to be engaged in the conversation; they were discussing their next move, but they were all so tired and grief stricken that it was becoming more difficult for anyone to concentrate.

  “If the soldiers were able to track down where the princess was, it means the prince must know she has the scroll,” Dinendale said glumly. “Which means he’s expecting us to come after Olivian.”

  “So it is the scroll they are after,” Twostaves muttered. “At least we know for sure now.”

  “But why?” Jesnake queried. “If it’s elvish. It’s so old we can’t even read it. What use is that to a human?”

  “I assure you, Master Jesnake,” Woodcarver said darkly, the firelight’s reflection dancing as it turned his clear eyes into orbs of flickering yellows and reds, “he is very capable of knowing what kind of secrets are contained on that page, and he will stop at nothing to unlock them.”

  “You said my father tore this from some sort of book,” Paige reminded him, staring at the embers in the fire. “The way I see it, you still have an awful lot of stories to clear up.”

  “Here, here,” Robert muttered, glaring at Woodcarver.

  The magician stared into the fire for a long moment. “If anyone has a right to know, it’s you lot,” he said. “I will not go into the story of how Ala’haran and Eleness got the page, but I can tell you what I know of it’s contents.”

  “Alaire.”

  Woodcarver looked up at Paige who stared at him.

  “What?”

  “My father’s name is Alaire, not Ala-whatever,” she said, more questions flooding her brain. Woodcarver suddenly looked uncomfortable; he clasped and unclasped his hands, uneasy.

  “Well, when I knew him, he was going by Ala’haran. I apologize,” he said deliberately. “Anyways, I was there when he and your mother escaped from the Shahir’s palace together with that page.”

  Paige opened her mouth to let a flood of questions pour out. “Escape? My mother? Why were they in the Shahir’s palace?”

  Woodcarver held a hand up to fend her off.

  “We will have that conversation. I promise, princess. But you must trust me when I say that conversation is one you do not need on your mind at present.”

  “It can’t be much worse than what I’ve already got going on at this very moment,” Paige snapped.

  “My dear, there are so many things at stake here; so many threads to the tapestry of the world as it stands today. You must understand I do not do any of this lightly,” Woodcarver said, unswayed.

  Paige glared. She pursed her lips, but kept them closed.

  Woodcarver continued, “What I can tell you is that the scroll you carry is not a singular text, but rather only one of many pages to the Book of Death, a text nearly as old as life on this world. It is part of a spell that the Shahir has been trying to replicate for over twenty years. Your father and mother managed to cut out one page of that book and have kept it hidden away in the Wild longer than you’ve been alive, my dear.”

  “And you were there when they took it?” Jesnake asked softly.

  Woodcarver nodded. “I was. I helped Ala’ha- I mean- Alaire and Eleness escape that night but I was separated from them. I’ve been trying to find them ever since, but it wasn’t until the Raven Heads had already attacked Kapernaum that I found out he’d made it into the Wild. So I stayed quiet, following the course of events, and eventually found your band just days before your capture. At that point, I knew the only way to protect that page was to help aid in your escape.”

  “This presents a potential problem for you then, I assume,” Dinendale said quietly.

  Woodcarver glanced at him with a somber expression. “Indeed.”

  “How so?” Broadside asked, a puzzled look on his face.

  Robert, who sat between the dwarf and Paige, rolled his eyes.

  “Because, moron; our current course of action is taking that scroll, page, or whatever it is and potentially placing it right in the lap of the very man who has already proved he’ll stop at nothing to get it.”

  The group was silent for a moment, but Paige glanced at the magician quickly. “You could have made off with that scroll at any time in the last three weeks if you truly only wanted to protect it. Yet you came back to see me safe, and then helped us escape capture.”

  Woodcarver glanced up at her, his eyes somber as he looked her up and down briefly.

  “I think it’s more than this scroll. I think you wouldn’t leave Olivian to die just as you didn’t leave me.”

  There was another pregnant pause as Woodcarver smiled and snorted.

  “You may be the spitting image of your mother,” he chuckled. “But, you have your father’s wit about you.”

  “I got that a lot,” she muttered.

  “Your parents were my friends. I owe them my freedom, my life, my very existence,” he continued softly. “So I will not be abandoning you, my dear. I could never look at myself in the mirror again if I saved the whole world only to have left a debt like that forever unpaid.”

  She felt a brief, momentary wash of relief roll over her. But it was not enough to ease the pain of loss that burdened every portion of her being. She stuck her left foot by the fire, feeling the leather soles of her moccasins suck in the warmth and ease the cold nipping at her toes. Duelmaster tossed another stick onto the fire, a shower of sparks splaying into the air.

  “Well, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” he said, sitting back on his heels. “About this new route? I’ve no idea where we’re going at this point, I’ve never ventured to this portion of the Wild.”

  “Well, there is no going back at this point,” Dinendale said, raising an eyebrow at Woodcarver.

  “Yeah. The new guy kinda already made sure of that when he brought down the mountain, Din,” Robert said.

  “Every outpost along the normal roads and paths will be watching for us. The prince may already know of our whereabouts, and he will expect us to come. He’s counting on it,” Duelmaster said. “But Woodcarver is right; he may not expect us to come through the mountains. And yet, once the survivors from that regiment get out of the rubble you caused, he’ll know we had to go deeper into the mountains.”

  “This i
s true. But fortunately, even with having to cross the mountains, we may yet be able to beat the news they carry. It will be at least three days before they can get to the nearest outpost, and after that a week to get riders to Aschin even using the rough roads. I think if we push ourselves, we can beat them,” Woodcarver said.

  “I’m sure he feels confident his patrols will intercept us in the lowlands,” Dinendale added, tossing a piece of semi-dry, punky wood on the fire. It rolled off the main flames, sputtered and popped atop the soggy pile of struggling ash, then hissed as the heat steamed the moisture out of it.

  “Aye. But even still, he will expect us to break in, even if we come from a different direction,” Woodcarver stated. “He wants the page, and fully expects us to try to get the princess without surrendering it to him. He will expect us to try and break her out and he knows there's no way we’d mount an attack on the castle itself.”

  “So we need to do what he doesn’t expect,” Twostaves stated. Paige saw Robert open his mouth to make a snide remark about stating the obvious, but he closed it, biting his tongue.

  “But how?” Duelmaster asked. “How do you do something unexpected that is more unexpected than the unexpected the person is expecting?”

  There was a long, confused pause.

  “Well, we have to rescue her. There is no question about that,” Broadside said, shifting his pack. “We’ll just have to risk a break in.”

  “And now we have to think about this page from the Book of Death, or whatever it is,” Robert muttered. “One more thing to account for in the list of things that could go horribly awry.”

  “Not if there is no page,” Paige whispered. She reached into her moccasin, and drew out the dirty animal skin. “Why not destroy it?”

  “Well for one, it is our only bargaining chip if everything falls apart to our worst case scenario,” Dinendale said. “If the prince knows the page is lost, there is no reason for him to keep Olivian alive.”

  “He won’t know we’ve destroyed it,” she pointed out.

  “That’s hardly the only reason to keep it intact,” Woodcarver snapped. “You have no idea the power contained within that page.”

  “I thought you said you couldn’t read it?” Twostaves said, his eyes scanning the magician, sceptical.

  “I can’t. But I know enough to know the power contained within those pages is not something to just be cut up or scorched,” Woodcarver said. “Between the two books, there are secrets we can’t even imagine waiting to be unlocked some day.”

  “Wait, there are two books!?” Broadside exclaimed, clearly bewildered.

  “It stands to reason if there is a Book of Death there would be a Book of Life, would it not?” Jesnake mumbled. Woodcarver nodded.

  “The books are said to have been written by Ayan and Iyan at the Dawn of the Word,” Woodcarver said, staring at the scrap of leather in Paige’s hand. “They were entrusted with the power to create and destroy. Such Deep Magic created this world. That kind of raw power makes enchanted swords and healing spells look like parlour tricks.”

  “Then all the more reason to end it here and now,” Paige said, shaking the leather in his face. Before he could argue with her, she threw the scrap into the fire as hard as she could. The flames roared to life as if strong ale had been poured directly onto it, and sparks shot out in all directions. The men all jumped up in surprise, smacking the sparks out before they could light their wool cloaks and linen shirts on fire. The page curled up in the heat, but then began to slowly unfurl again like a rose coming into bloom. The words on the page began to glow a hot, white color.

  “What in the name of all subtropical fruit tree species?” Duelmaster gasped.

  Woodcarver grabbed a fire poking stick and pulled the leather from the heat. No scorch marks, charred bits, or even ash dust could be seen on the leather as the Magician picked it up in his gloved hand and waved it about for all to see.

  “I told you,” he said, a smirk on his young looking face. “Deep magic.”

  “It was ripped from the book; could it not also be cut up into tiny bits?” Jesnake asked. Woodcarver shook his head.

  “You’ll see there are no torn or cut edges,” he said, holding it up to be examined. “The book is not bound together or rolled like a scroll. It is merely a collection of pages, numbered on each side, that are stacked and locked in a box. There is no way to destroy this, which means keeping it safe is our only recourse.”

  Paige sighed. She didn’t fully understand everything he was saying, but she was growing too tired to even demand more answers; she was sure based on her track record for asking thus far that she would merely be met with half an answer and a promise of more information at a later time. She stuffed the leather scroll back in her moccasin and sighed, staring into the sputtering campfire.

  “So,” Dinendale said, standing, “we’ll go over the mountains instead of along them. Maybe, just maybe, we’ll have the edge of surprise on our side.”

  “Best get some much-needed, much-warranted rest then,” Twostaves muttered. “My calves feel like they are about to fall off the back of my legs.”

  “I don’t even want to hear it, Twostaves,” Paige hissed angrily.

  “Hey! You must remember where I’m from!” the giant spat back. “I’m a Lowland Giant, remember?”

  “Oh, shut up!” Robert shouted. The bark was louder than any of them expected, causing several of them to jump in surprise. Twostaves looked incredulous, staring at Robert who had leapt to his feet.

  “It’s not like we just escaped certain death at the cost of an entire village and the life of a man who literally lost everything to help us.”

  “Robert,” Dinendale tried to interject, but Robert wasn’t having any of it.

  “No, I’m sick of this! Twostaves couldn’t pour water out of his boot if the instructions were written on the freaking heel! He doesn’t think before he opens his mouth! People are dead, and all he can go on about are how much his feet hurt!”

  “Now see here,” Twostaves leapt up with a face flushed with rage, but Robert cut him off.

  “Shut your face, giant, or I’ll shut it for you!”

  Then, before anyone could stop him, Twostaves punched Robert’s face so hard it physically threw Robert back four paces. Robert landed on his back, sputtering. The giant made for the fallen comrade, eyes ablaze and huge fists clenched like mighty hams.

  “Twostaves, no!” Dinendale shouted, but the giant didn’t stop. He was just about to pick Robert up by the collar of his chainmail for another face bloodying punch, when a shout echoed above the Brotherhood.

  “Fhaighr me vghindur!”

  The giant’s body hurled several feet into the air and flew backwards as if pushed by an invisible hand. He landed on his back, knocking the wind out of him as his large body rolled and hit a boulder with a heavy thudding sound. He gasped for air as he rolled back onto his elbow slowly, looking about wildly in confusion.

  They turned to see Woodcarver standing behind them all, his staff extended towards Twostaves, his free hand outstretched behind him. His eyes were glowing an opaque white but slowly faded back into his normal colorless hue.

  “Enough of this nonsense. You are all worse than little children!” He paced over to Robert and muttered some words. Paige worried for Robert laying there with his body mangled from Twostaves’ strike. Pulling his gloved hand back, Woodcarver smacked Robert with an open palm across the face. Paige gasped, but Robert’s bloodied face suddenly seemed less contorted and broken, eventually working itself back into place. His broken nose straightened itself and his missing teeth filled back into their normal jagged places. He was not smiling however; he had a glare plastered on his mended bloody face that could have melted a brick of iron.

  “Things are going to get a lot less pleasant in the next few weeks, so get a grip on yourselves. Quit complaining and act like men!”

  “Not something I’m exactly striving to achieve,” hissed a heaving Twostaves, who stru
ggled to his feet.

  Woodcarver glared at him. “Don’t start with me, giant,” the magician growled. “Your prejudices are not going to get the older princess free, are they?”

  “No,” Twostaves simmered, shaking himself. Dust floated from his cloak and gambeson to the ground.

  “Now,” Woodcarver snapped. “If you are all quite finished, I recommend getting some sleep. We’ve a long walk ahead of us tomorrow.”

  The Brotherhood grumbled among themselves, but one by one they began preparing makeshift sleeping areas to turn in for the night, though several of them spread out a little further than normal. Paige wrapped herself in her damp wool cloak. Her nearly dry wool blanket spread atop her as the others tossed their gear unceremoniously into bedrolls. Robert took first watch as the others wrapped up for what small amount of slumber they could afford.