by Jeff Wilson
He woke twice. Once just at the onset of the evening and again late that night. When he woke the second time he found that someone else had come and gone, disturbing the dust on the floor. This was evidenced by a fresh set of booted impressions going in and out of the room, which led to a spot on the floor beside Edryd where someone had lingered for a while, crouching down beside his sleeping form.
Whoever had been there, it seemed they had been hungry. The bundle of cakes had been taken, but thankfully the water skin had been left untouched. Edryd took a long swallow of water and began shaking. He could not stop the trembling. He felt numb with cold, but when he touched his face, Edryd could feel that his skin was fevered and flushed with heat. It occurred to him then, without much understanding, that he might be about to die.
He wondered if he had been poisoned, but if Logaeir had wanted him dead he would have just killed him while he slept, and Edryd knew that he had been ill long before he had actually encountered any of the Ascomanni. It had been foolish of him to leave the estate, and even more foolish not to leave with Logaeir. Certainly his situation would have been much improved in either case. It was too late now. Sleep overtook him, mercifully deadening his conscious suffering.
Edryd was aware of nothing else until the next afternoon. He wasn’t even sure if he was awake or not, but someone seemed to be leaning over him, taking a close look. The man seemed to be worried about him. Edryd’s heart ached with the hope that this person was here to help him. He struggled to concentrate, trying to bring the man into focus. Gradually his vision did improve and he realized that it was Aed Seoras. It was not worry that he saw on the man’s face, it was irritation.
“You understand your current condition is entirely your own fault,” Seoras insisted.
Edryd might have tried to argue that he had never healed from the damage he received during their fight. Seoras was directly responsible and deserved most if not all of the blame that could be assigned. Weak as Edryd was though, he couldn’t manage to speak.
“You should have just stayed at the estate,” he continued, and then added more to himself than to Edryd, “You are all but dead where you lay… such a damned waste.”
***
Aelsian felt troubled. He had not enjoyed a single night of sound sleep since parting company with the man who had called himself Edryd. The navarch knew the man to actually be Captain Aisen of the Sigil Corps. As the heir of House Edorin, Aisen had holdings in Nar Edor as well as others in Ossia as the son and heir of Aedan Elduryn. The latter was of particular importance to Aelsian.
Aelsian was influential in Ossia, and that influence was in large part owed to his connections with the Elduryn family. His position administering the Elduryn properties and business interests made Aelsian important in political and commercial arenas. His position as Navarch of the Ossian First Fleet made him important in military ones. Aelsian’s friend and master, Aedan Elduryn, absent for more than a decade now, was probably dead. If so, Aisen was his friend’s only living legacy. For Aedan’s sake, Aelsian owed to Aisen whatever faithful service he could hope to offer.
He had wanted to take Aisen back to Ossia, to the family estate, but it was perhaps for the best that he had not succeeded in that ambition. Preparations were necessary before Aisen could assume a role in Ossia without provoking those who would certainly fear him. It had not, in any case, been possible. Edryd had not admitted to his identity as Aisen, and Aelsian had chosen not to force the issue. Now that Aelsian was back in Ossia, there were men in whom he would need to confide.
One of those men was Ludin Kar. He needed the scholar’s advice. Ludin Kar had spent a lifetime researching and preserving the history of the last age. He had concentrated especially on those matters related to the now long dead, but once nearly omnipotent, Sigil Order. The ongoing and still evolving attempt to revive this ancient order, in the form of a military fraternity in Nar Edor, was being closely watched, as it was sure to have some very interesting and potentially far reaching implications.
Ludin had proven only too eager to meet, so that had been straight forward enough. Implementing precautions that would guarantee a private environment while also obscuring the importance of the meeting, had been a more delicate problem, but Aelsian had come up with a simple solution. He had invited Ludin to use a cottage on the Elduryn estate as a stopover point on a trip from his home at the site of what remained of an old Sigil Order Temple, to the capital a dozen miles up the coast to the north. It didn’t matter that Ludin had not been planning such a trip since it didn’t take much imagination to come up with things that the scholar could accomplish while in the city that would provide a cover, and it didn’t matter if it was noted that he stayed at the Elduryn estate on his way there.
What Aelsian wanted to avoid, if he could, was confirmation that the two of them had met, and at all costs he had to ensure that no part of their conversation would be overheard. Towards that purpose, he had left his residence in the Elduryn family home, and set out on his own in the early morning hours. To anyone else’s knowledge, he had gone on a hunting trip alone. Instead he had spent the day in and around the secluded cottage, spending most of his time studying the sword that he carried with him. It was awkwardly long, with no adornment or markings of any kind, but it had a beautiful clean form. It was pristine, as if newly forged and freshly polished, with no outward indication of what Aelsian knew to be its ancient age and history of use in violent conflicts.
Ludin Kar did not recognize the weapon for what it was when he finally arrived. He showed no interest in it at all. The navarch didn’t know whether he should have been surprised, but he was. Ludin was the foremost expert in such things after all. Not for the first time, it struck Aelsian that the man’s lanky build and nervous mannerisms did not quite match the image of a sedentary individual who spent his days buried in books.
“Aelsian,” the scholar said as he entered. “I have to say, I have been tormented by curiosity these past couple of days. This was arranged in such an ordinary fashion. I wasn’t sure you didn’t think that I really intended a trip into the city. That you are here waiting, confirms there is more to it.”
Aelsian didn’t answer right away. Instead he took a quick look out the door and surveyed the perimeter of the property. Satisfied, he went back inside, and seeing that Ludin Kar was already seated at the table, he took the seat opposite his friend.
“I am sure I wasn’t followed,” if that is what you are concerned about, Ludin offered helpfully. “I barely passed three people on the road all day.”
“I’m not so worried about anyone who you would have been able to see, as much as something that you couldn’t. I’ve been having troubles with a very persistent draugr, so precautions seemed appropriate,” Aelsian explained.
Ludin went white with fear. After an awkward pause, Ludin gave a nervous laugh and suggested hopefully, “You must be having some fun at my expense.”
“No, I only wish that were so,” Aelsian answered darkly.
“What would such a creature want with you? Certainly it couldn’t have the least interest in me, could it?” Ludin was speaking quickly now, trying to reassure himself. “We’re in the middle of an overgrown meadow, plants everywhere—a draugr wouldn’t much like that.”
“That makes this a good location, but I don’t know, I think it would bear all that easily enough if its purpose were important. You might have noticed the loosened earth around the perimeter of the cottage and the layer of fine sand on top of it.”
Ludin hadn’t noticed, but he understood. “I have heard that those foul creatures cannot be seen if they don’t wish to be, but by all accounts they remain heavy, much heavier than a living man. Over softened earth, it wouldn’t be able to disguise its path.”
Aelsian smiled. “Simple, but efficient,” he said, congratulating himself.
“What is to stop it from closing in while we are talking?” Ludin asked.
“Nothing,” Aelsian admitted. “However, I lost
it some time ago, and I’m hoping it has not picked my trail up again. I will check the perimeter once more when we leave. If anything is disturbed, I will at least know we were observed.”
Ludin noticed for the first time how tired the navarch appeared. “You have looked better, my friend,” he said with concern.
“I have not been getting much rest,” Aelsian admitted.
“I suppose encountering a draugr would interfere with my ability to sleep comfortably as well,” Ludin sympathized.
“It isn’t the thought of draugar that troubles my sleep,” Aelsian disagreed. “Well, not just draugar. What is really keeping me up nights is this,” he said as he placed the naked blade in the center of the table.
Ludin was slow to react. He studied the weapon with interest and curiosity but it was a good half a minute before he began to understand.
“This isn’t…?” he began.
“That is exactly what it is,” Aelsian confirmed.
“The sword of House Edorin, a true sigil sword,” Ludin gaped in wonder and excitement. “How can you be sure?”
“I’m sure,” Aelsian said. “I know the sword. I saw it more than once when Aedan Elduryn carried it. That was years ago. I was entrusted with it two weeks ago by his son, Aisen. It is the Edorin Sigil Blade.”
“I have never seen one,” Ludin exclaimed. “A good many rich and powerful men the world over claim to possess one, but invariably they have only a fake. There might be another in Nar Edor of course. I know of maybe two in the league cities that might, just might, be legitimate, but this is the first true sigil sword I have ever seen with my own eyes.”
Ludin glanced up at Aelsian, seeking permission to handle the weapon. The navarch nodded his head in assent. Carefully, the aging scholar cradled the long blade and pulled it in close, hands trembling slightly as he inspected the weapon with an air of awe and respect. Aelsian could not remember seeing the man so excited.
“You say it was given to you by Aisen?” Ludin Kar asked, his eyebrows rising at an angle. “There has to be more to tell on that point,” he insisted.
“I came across him alone on the burning hulk of a wave breaker two weeks ago. He surrendered the sword to our boarding party before he came aboard. He did not admit his identity to my crew, but I knew him. He is very much his father’s son.”
“What was he doing, apart from slowly sinking into the ocean?”
“He was calling himself Edryd. He told me that he was taken captive by the men on that ship. He claimed that most of them escaped the fire by getting on a boat they were towing, but there were also signs of a fight. For all I know he killed the crew and put their bodies over the side.”
“That might be altogether possible. Rumor of Aisen’s conflict with his brother in Nar Edor arrived ahead of your return, and by the sound of it, he’s a very dangerous man. It is even being said that he activated the sigil sword.”
“I can confirm those rumors,” Aelsian acknowledged. “Men had gathered outside the closed doors of the crypt at the sounds of swords clashing. They all saw bright white light streaming from gaps at the edges of the doorway towards the end of the fight. There was also a witness inside the crypt. He was the sole nobleman of the four with Beonen that survived. He told a Commander Ledrin of the Sigil Corps that the sword came to life in Aisen’s hand, and that it nearly cut Beonen in half in a single stroke.”
“You should have returned the sword to Aisen,” Ludin commented reprovingly. “It is his by right. You could not hope to wield it.”
“I tried to,” Aelsian protested, injured by the implied accusation that he had desired the weapon for himself. “Tried to give it back that is, not wield it myself,” he clarified. “Aisen wanted nothing to do with it. He suggested that he would throw it over the side if I left it up to him, and I feared he would have made good on the threat.”
“I don’t understand,” Ludin responded.
“I am not sure I do either,” Aelsian agreed. “But I was able to use it to trick the draugr into following me.”
“What?” Ludin said, a little shocked, and quite certain that Aelsian had skipped a few things.
“I mentioned I was having trouble with a draugr didn’t I?” the navarch laughed.
“You didn’t say you actively encouraged it to chase you,” Ludin countered, voicing his disapproval for such a foolish act.
“When Aisen made his way onto the Interdiction, I saw the draugr cross over with him,” Aelsian began to explain.
Ludin arched an eyebrow in skepticism.
“By saw, I mean that I saw the boarding plank bow under the weight of the draugr as it followed behind Aisen,” the navarch clarified. “It was following him, to what purpose I do not know. Aisen seemed to have been vaguely aware that he was being watched and followed, but had not known what it was.”
Ludin shuddered involuntarily.
“I had to help him shake the creature. Together we devised a plan. We met up with another ship, the Windfall. Dressed in Aisen’s cloak and clothing and with his sword belted at my side, I tried to sneak across just as we were parting. It all went to plan and the creature followed me across.”
“Brave, but stupid,” Ludin remarked.
“I remained in one of the ship’s cabins for several days before making a second transfer to another ship,” the navarch continued. “This time we tried to drop the boarding plank before the creature could cross over. The hope was to either trap it on the other ship or maybe even drop the foul thing into the sea.”
“Did it work?” Ludin asked anxiously.
“No,” replied Aelsian, “it leapt from one ship to the other.”
“How could you tell?” Ludin asked. It was a reasonable question to ask; the creature being discussed should have been impossible to see.
“It wasn’t a small vessel, but I am not exaggerating when I tell you it rocked to one side when the creature landed on the deck,” Aelsian explained.
There was a moment of disbelief, followed by fear, as Ludin realized that his friend was telling the truth. “That thing didn’t follow you all the way here did it?” Ludin asked.
“It wouldn’t have become the first time Ossia was visited by one of these monsters, but no, I made one more move to another ship,” Aelsian said. “I think by then it must have known who I was, but unable to follow Aisen, it was instead following me. I kept up the pretense anyway, and still dressed as Aisen, I transferred over in a small boat. Halfway between the ships, I broke open a hole in the bottom of the boat, and jumped over the side into the ocean. I swam like mad until I made it safely over.”
“The draugr couldn’t follow?”
“I don’t think it did. It’s said that they can’t float. I don’t know that you can drown the undead, but with any luck it is trapped at the bottom of a very deep part of the ocean.”
“What of Aisen? Where is he now, did you get him back to Nar Edor?”
“He wanted off at the first opportunity at any destination other than Nar Edor. To the best of my knowledge he went ashore just north of the island of An Innis.”
“You left him?” Ludin objected reprovingly. “That is no safe place, especially if anyone were to learn who he was.”
“Before I left the Interdiction, I made contact with Logaeir,” Aelsian said defending himself. “He is going to watch out for him.”
“Logaeir?” challenged Ludin even more reprovingly. “He won’t protect Aisen; he will try to use him.”
“Logaeir is a smart man, he knows better than that,” Aelsian disagreed.
“You don’t need to tell me how smart he is,” Ludin countered, “you will remember he was my pupil for a time.”
“You agree he is in good hands then,” Aelsian argued.
“Competent hands to be sure, yes, but I would not have entrusted Aisen to him. That man has a singular obsession. He means to take An Innis at any cost, and you have dropped a very powerful pawn right into his lap. Logaeir would be able to make use of him in a number of
ways.”
The navarch’s face tightened in concern as he realized that Ludin was right. “It is done and there is no undoing it,” Aelsian said unapologetically.
“The question is what to do now,” Ludin discerned. “I suppose that is why I am here.”
“I need to know more about this weapon, and you know more about these things than anyone else,” Aelsian said. “I have not been able to sleep since I left the Interdiction, and it is not because of fear of encountering another draugr or anything else. I could almost swear the sword is pushing me to return it to Aisen.”
Ludin paused, considering what Aelsian had just suggested. “I suppose it could be possible. From what I have studied, it has been noted that a sigil knight gained a sort of focusing connection channeled by these weapons. It was something that went past a simple reliance on the object. A portion of the warrior’s spiritual strength was actually invested within the weapon. The sword, could want to be reunited with its master.”
“You’re suggesting the weapon is alive?” Aelsian asked in surprise.
“No, you are the one that suggested that,” Ludin disagreed. “I’m saying that the sword may be connected to Aisen in such a way that he is not complete when separated from it.”
Aelsian was not so sure. Aisen had seemed more eager to be rid of the sword than he had been to free himself from the draugr. The sword might want to be returned to Aisen, but the feeling was not mutual.
“I can tell you one thing for certain, you need to bring this back to Aisen as soon as possible,” Ludin said, leaving no room for any other options.
