After they finished their breakfast and tea, they were off again leading their horses through several inches of fresh snow and hoping the beasts would not lose their footing and slip.
To Rhada’s surprise, it wasn’t until the next day that the snow started falling once again and by the end of the day, the wind howled and raged against them, blowing the frozen flakes into their faces. They had tried to trudge through the blizzard but found it to be impossible so they huddled together underneath a rock overhang and did not speak for several hours. Rhada could feel Mayvard shivering next to her but this time she did not offer him her blanket. Though it remained wet, she kept it wrapped tightly around her shoulders and held onto it as though her life depended on it.
Her thoughts suddenly turned to the shadow beast she had killed the day they had left Axendra and she wished she could have waited for its thick, warm coat. She would have given anything for it to be wrapped tightly around her at that moment.
They ended up spending the night cradled underneath the rock edifice and when they awoke and emerged the next morning, Rhada stepped hastily outside to find a light but almost pleasant flurry fluttering around her. She sighed with relief with the knowledge of the now extinct blizzard and reached for her pipe and lit it before searching for their horses.
She found them, over a small ridge and down a hill. They stood knee deep in the snow and Rhada felt as though she had to swim through it to get to them. She grabbed their reins and pulled them back up the hill to where Mayvard now stood. They each pulled some fruit and cheese they had gathered in North Fort from their packs and stood next to their horses while eating it. Rhada took a bite of each between puffs of smoke and once they were satisfied, they were off once more.
Rhada was more thankful for her horse now than she ever had been before as she watched it struggle through the fresh snow. If she had been on foot, she felt doubtful she would have made it this far.
As Mayvard trudged alongside her, he hummed a soft tune, the same tune he had been whistling a few days prior. Rhada found herself growing curious as to the song and glanced his way before asking- “what is this song you sing?”
Mayvard stopped humming and kept his eyes focused ahead of him while replying. “It was a tune my mother sang to me when I was a boy. I have forgotten the words but the melody stays with me.” A look of pain came over his face and he sighed, trying to hide the pain away.
Mayvard’s parents had suffered an awful fate. Natharian had been her first Captain, after she became High Protector. He served her loyally for many years until his wife grew ill and Natharian begged leave to search for medicine for her. Nothing the healers or potion masters did for her worked and Natharian became desperate. The King granted him permission to go and soon after they set off in search for her cure, leaving Mayvard behind in the care of the castle nurse wives. It was sometime later that Rhada discovered Natharian had been robbed on the road. His horse had been killed, his carriage set to flame and he had been strung up in a nearby tree by the neck. Where Mayvard’s mother had gone, no one could say but it seemed obvious to everyone the bandits had run off with her.
Rhada wished she could reach out to Mayvard then, to tell him how much she had cared for his father- how much she cared for him, but no matter how much she wished she could, she could not bring herself to reach out. She turned her gaze ahead and stared at the open world before them. Her heart beat quickly in her chest and she could feel her face begin to harden.
Time and time again Mayvard had told her that he thought of her as a friend. She never said the words back to him but she knew if ever she had had a friend, it was Mayvard. Friends care for each other. She tried to tell herself. They are not ashamed to tell the other when they feel sorry for them. Nor are they ashamed to express their feelings. It mattered not how much she scolded herself. For the rest of that day, Rhada’s eyes never met Mayvard’s gaze and he in turn, kept silent- making certain not to hum the solemn tune again.
Chapter 22
The city of Tyos was not as Rhada remembered it being- a warm, sunlit place with a thriving fish market and loud, irreverent taverns. It had become, over the course of a month, desolate and dark. There seemed to be an ominous presence lingering around them as they silently prodded their reluctant horses forward. Even the air which they breathed seemed laden with despair and had a foul scent to it; like decay and rotten flesh. And the cold that had consumed the north seemed even more bitter within the dead city. It crawled beneath their skin and sent them into shivers.
But it was the silence that made Rhada cringe. It was a silence that rang in her ears and made her heart thump heavily against her chest. It was a silence that resonated with the destruction that had been done- a silence that sang of the lives that were lost. It filled the air and the streets and shrouded them in gloom.
Tyos was split into two factions- the upper city sat atop a hill overlooking the lower city, which was nestled below at sea level. It was the lower faction that was the larger of the two but the road that Rhada and Mayvard had followed led them to the upper faction.
They pulled on the reins and sat atop their horses at the edge of the city, staring at the empty wooden houses and shops. There was no life inside the city that they could see and the falling snow put a heavy blanket upon the ground. The storm had not let up and the thick clouds shrouded any sort of sunlight that wished to peek through. Tyos itself seemed to cast its own gloomy shadow, making it darker than the rest of the world.
They listened for any sounds of life that could reach their ears but silence was the only thing to be heard within the dead city. Above the silence, Rhada could hear the ringing of Bloodbinder, desperate to escape its scabbard. She ignored it to the best of her ability.
“It seems as though the city is abandoned.” Rhada said quietly, feeling as though she should not disturb the silence. Mayvard, whose eyesight was better than anyone Rhada knew, pointed to a building off in the distance.
“There.” He said just as quietly as Rhada had spoken. “There is smoke coming from that chimney. Someone is inside.”
Rhada kicked her horse into motion and headed towards the one occupied building they could see. Mayvard followed cautiously behind.
The ringing in Rhada’s ears grew louder and louder as they approached the ranch house. She grasped the hilt of her blade as she reigned in her horse, dismounted and felt the vibration growing ever stronger in her hand.
The ranch house was the largest building around and through the windows they could see faint candlelight shining through. There was no doubt that someone was living inside.
She stepped up the three wooden steps of the porch and stopped when the wooden planks beneath her boots began to creak. She looked behind her and saw Mayvard ascending the stairs as well, stepping carefully as to not make any sound. She looked back to the door and kept her hand on Bloodbinder, ready to pull it out if the need arose.
Rhada leaned towards the door to peer inside through the stained glass. All she could see was the glow of many candles and the outline of furniture. There were no people in sight from what she could tell.
“Should we force our way in?” Mayvard asked as he stepped up next to her. Rhada shook her head.
“I do not think that whatever is inside is dangerous.” She let go of Bloodbinder and brought her fist up to the wooden door, knocking loudly three times.
There was silence for a few moments and then she knocked again. Footsteps could be heard from the other side, making Rhada peer through the stained glass once more. She saw a figure, tall and dark against the candlelight, shuffling its way towards them. On the other side, the figure stopped and stared at the door for a moment before calling out- “who is there?”
“High Protector Rhada and Captain Mayvard. I demand that you open this door at once!” She called back and without a moment’s hesitation, the latches on the other side of the door were being released. When it opened, it revealed a familiar face- Protector Merek Vandram. His pale and wrink
led face lit up with hope at the sight of her- a look she was not accustomed to- and he motioned for them to enter.
“Quickly, quickly come inside, please.” They stepped into the gloomy, stale room and Merek quickly slammed the door shut behind them, making certain that all six locks were latched.
Rhada took a moment to examine the room that she stood in. A small hearth was lit on the other side with a chunk of lamb leg roasting over it. There were several chairs that lined the walls and a few people occupying them. Their faces were just as pale as Merek’s and most kept their eyes downcast, away from Rhada’s gaze. Some had blankets wrapped around their shoulders and others sat shivering in their chair. There was a stiff feeling hanging in the air, like a graveyard on a dark, funeral day. The wood planks beneath Rhada’s feet creaked as she shifted her weight, telling her that this building had a cellar. She looked up to the walls and saw many paintings of sailors and hunters, proudly displaying their latest kills.
When Merek was finished locking the door, he turned to Rhada and smiled with relief. “I cannot believe you are here! Thank the Gods!” He looked up towards the sky as though the Gods could hear him. He suddenly turned to a young girl who sat by the fire, spinning the lamb leg and said- “Myra, go and fetch some warm tea and bread for our guests, they have had a long journey.” The girl nodded, stood and smiled warmly at Rhada as she passed. Rhada did not return the smile.
“I apologize for not having something more befitting the High Protector than tea and bread but as it is, our supplies are thin.” Rhada nodded in understanding.
“Tea will be fine.” She replied. She turned to the other people huddled in the room and noticed that all eyes were now on her. Some seemed friendly enough but others, who had obviously just realized who she was, scowled from behind their blankets with their half hidden faces. Rhada turned back to Merek and said- “Order this room to be cleared out so that we may speak.” Merek nodded and soon, they had the room to themselves.
Rhada chose a seat next to the fire and felt her spirits lift as the gloom from outside melted away with the warmth it provided. Mayvard sat in a chair right next to her and Merek sat across the room, facing Rhada. They waited until the tea and bread arrived and for Myra to leave before speaking.
“I have come because our Sorceress has had a vision- one that I am beginning to see was true. Your city has become nothing more than a barren wasteland.” Rhada said this as she held onto her tea mug. She never sipped the hot liquid but allowed the steam to rise up into her eyes.
Merek nodded slowly. “Tis sadly true.” He replied with a grim face. “I cannot tell you all that has happened here because I do not entirely know myself. I was here, in this lodge, sitting in this very chair, when I heard shouts. I ran outside and saw something I never thought I would see in all my life- a great wall of fire and water, rushing towards my city!” He leaned forward and stared Rhada in the eyes. “It destroyed everything!” Rhada could see his eyes begin to water and he turned away from her and focused his gaze on the flames.
“The lower half of Tyos was consumed. Thankfully, we are on high enough ground here that none of us were affected by the wave. Still, it was a harsh day, knowing that those below had no chance of surviving.” He sipped his tea and Rhada could see his hands begin to shake. “But that is not even the worst of it.” He whispered. He seemed to be speaking only to himself now. His eyes focused on the flames and his hands shook so badly, Rhada saw tea spill from the mug onto his leg. Merek did not even take notice.
When he did not continue, Rhada spoke: “what could have been worse than losing half of your city to a wall of sea and fire?” She asked. Merek turned his head and Rhada saw the grim look of his face. He looked haggard in that moment, old and withered but Rhada knew Merek was a young man- not even past his mid-thirties. His hair had grown white and his eyes had sunken in as they sometimes do with old age. In that moment, Rhada knew that Merek had suffered greatly. She felt a wave of sadness come over her for him and his people. Many lives had been lost and the people of Tyos may never recover.
“That night, something emerged from the darkness that I cannot name.” His voice quivered as he spoke and he lowered it to a whisper. “Those who had died during the day rose at night as…” His voice trailed off and Rhada suddenly felt her stomach churn. He is lying. She tried to convince herself but she knew that Merek spoke the truth- she could see the fear in his eyes.
“What?” Mayvard asked, clearly not understanding what Merek was trying to say. “What did they rise as?”
Merek shook his head and let the tears fall down his cheeks. He looked to the flames again before answering- “as shadows.”
Rhada leaned back in her chair and let her eyes fall on the flames as well. Suddenly, the dim light of the candles faded and all she could see was the impending darkness that surrounded them. This cannot be. She told herself. She knew that something terrible lurked in this city, Bloodbinder had been telling her that all along, but she had hoped her assumption of what it was had been wrong. Everything she had done for this realm, the peace she had fought for, would soon come to an end- she could feel it. The enemy was rising once again and he was an enemy she could not fight.
“What do you mean by that?” Mayvard asked. Rhada had a suspicion that Mayvard knew but needed to hear the words spoken aloud.
Before Merek could respond, however, Rhada spoke for him- “shadow walkers.” The words seemed to darken the room and left a bad taste in her mouth.
Mayvard shook his head in denial. “That is impossible.” He said, turning his gaze to Rhada.
“Believe what you will.” Merek told them. “I know what I saw. You will see for yourselves soon enough.”
Mayvard turned his gaze towards Rhada and leaned close to her. “What he says is not possible. Do you think perhaps he is suffering from trauma?”
Rhada glanced over to Merek and studied his face. His eyes were focused on the flames of the fire and were streaming with tears. But behind them, Rhada could see the intensity of his fear. It was a type of fear that most people never encounter during their lifetime- a fear that only something truly terrifying could muster. It was a fear that drove itself deep into the heart and remained there for the rest of its victim’s days. Traumatic though his experience was; she knew the meaning behind Mayvard’s question. He was really asking if the Protector of Tyos had gone mad.
Rhada shook her head.
Mayvard’s hard face turned to one of concern. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the floor by his feet, trying to contemplate what all of this meant.
“Merek,” Rhada said, leaning forward in her chair and turning her full attention to the Protector. Merek stirred, as though being woken from a dream and turned toward Rhada. “Are you absolutely certain, without a shred of a doubt, that what you claim you saw were shadow walkers?”
Merek despondently nodded his head. “They were people, people that we knew, people that we loved- but they weren’t really people, not anymore. Their eyes were barren and they reeked of death!” Merek shivered.
“Excuse me, Protector Merek,” all heads turned towards the doorway where the girl Myra stood, her hands were clasped tightly together and she shifted her weight nervously from foot to foot. Though she had spoken Merek’s name, it was Rhada that her eyes fell upon.
“Yes, girl? What is it?” Merek asked in a gentle, fatherly voice.
“I must turn the leg or it will burn.” She pointed to the lamb leg dangling over the fire.
Merek waved her forward and Rhada leaned back in her chair to give the girl more room. She knelt on the floor by Rhada’s feet, glancing briefly at the sword that hung over the chair.
Rhada pulled her pipe free and held it up to Merek. “Do you mind?” She asked and he shook his head.
“You are the High Protector. You need not ask permission from me.” Rhada placed the pipe between her teeth and nodded. She was tempted to tell him that she was not asking permission, only trying to be courteous but de
cided it was not important.
Myra pulled the lamb leg from the hook and stood with the steaming meat in her hands. She turned to Rhada and bowed her head.
“The meat is ready, if you would like some.” Rhada smiled at the gesture.
“Thank you, but no. Mayvard and I came from North Fort where we were surrounded by an abundance of food. Your people need the nourishment more so than us.” She glanced at Mayvard and almost laughed at the disappointed look on his face. His eyes followed the meat as Myra carried it past him and out of the room.
Something from outside made them all start- a loud crash and the cry of a horse. Rhada stood and rushed to the door and Mayvard followed closely behind. When she reached for the locks, Merek shouted; “stop!”
Rhada obeyed and turned her eyes to Merek. The man seemed even paler than before and stood with his arms outstretched as though he could reach her and pull her back.
“Do not open that door! They will come inside.” Merek turned and pulled back the drapes from the window and gazed outside. Rhada stepped away from the door and followed Merek’s example.
She could see her horse, standing right where she had left the beast, and Mayvard’s horse next to hers. She looked downward and saw what it was that had caused the noise and scared the horses- a rickety sign hanging from the porch roof of the building across the road had fallen and broken on the frozen porch.
“That building belonged to Joeff Witly, the blacksmith.” Merek shook his head in sadness. “Myra, his daughter, is here with us.”
Rhada turned, looking for the girl Myra but she was no doubt in the back, busy carving portions of the lamb leg for the others.
Rhada stepped away from the window and reclaimed the smoking pipe she had set upon the table.
“It is getting dark out.” Merek said, still gazing at the world outside. “It will not be suitable to try to run in the dark of night. That is when the fog comes in. We shall have to wait until morning.”
Shadows of Men (The Watchers Book 1) Page 24
