Souls of Aredyrah 2 - The Search for the Unnamed One

by Akers, Tracy A.

  Dayn caught Reiv’s eye and nodded, but Reiv averted his eyes rather than have Whyn see an acknowledgement between them. Reiv’s gaze moved toward the riders at Dayn’s back and he felt himself go weak. Torin was there, and Jensa, Alicine, and Brina. He hated that they were there on his account and wished more than anything he could scream them all away. For a moment he thought to do so, to shout for them to run for their lives. But then he felt Mahon move his steed forward a step or two. Reiv glanced at him. The man was staring with suppressed, but obvious horror at the sight of his wife sitting amongst the others.

  “We have come to offer a trade,” Dayn said across the distance. “We do not wish to fight. We only wish to negotiate for Reiv’s return.”

  “What could you possibly offer that is worth any sort of trade?” Whyn called back. He grabbed the reins of Reiv’s horse and advanced several steps with Mahon at their side. He ordered the rest of the guards to stay back.

  Dayn reached out his hand, and Gair handed him the rope. Dayn kicked in his heels and advanced slowly. The rope in his hand grew taut. Gair nudged Crymm forward with a kick of his foot. The guard stumbled behind Dayn’s horse, a mixture of humiliation and hostility blanketing his face. Dayn stopped within several feet of the Tearian group, then yanked the rope.

  “I believe this belongs to you,” he said as Crymm lurched forward.

  Whyn guffawed. “There is little value in that. No, I think there will be no trade.”

  “Oh, you misunderstand me. You can have your dog back for nothing. What I’ve come to trade is this.” Dayn pulled the Lion Sword from the scabbard at his waist and held it high.

  Sunlight burst forth from the evaporating clouds. The blade glistened, its reflection dancing in Whyn’s covetous eyes.

  “You are a thief!” Whyn hissed.

  “Yes, that’s true,” Dayn said with a sigh. “I did in fact steal it. From Reiv.” He looked at Reiv and shook his head. “Sorry, cousin.”

  Mahon’s mouth dropped.

  Whyn narrowed his eyes. “Cousin? Why do you refer to him as such?’

  “Because he is my cousin, just as you are. Brina is my mother. I was once named Keefe, but now I am Dayn.” Dayn cocked his head. “We resemble each other, you and I, don’t you think? If I hadn’t been sent away and unnamed as I was, maybe we would have been friends. Funny how things work out, isn’t it.”

  “Unnamed?” Whyn rasped the word. His horse sensed his agitation and reared and danced about. Whyn held tight to the reins and twisted his head to keep his focus on Dayn. “Lies!” he shouted as he forced the horse to a halt.

  Brina advanced her horse next to Dayn’s. “My son does not lie,” she said.

  “Brina…no,” Mahon whispered. His face went ghostly white and his eyes fluttered as though he were about to faint.

  “So, Brina, you are in on this conspiracy,” Whyn said.

  “Yes, nephew, I made my choice,” she said. “I side with the people I love. You were once included in that love, you know.”

  “You never loved me as you love Reiv!” Whyn said.

  “Of course I did, until your words became nothing but lies. You are no longer the nephew I loved, Whyn, though I pray he is still in you somewhere.”

  “What’s it going to be, cousin?” Dayn said. “Do we have a trade?” He rotated the sword in his hand and eyed it with interest.

  “I will trade nothing for that which already belongs to me!” Whyn shouted.

  Then Reiv spoke up. “But you gave it to me, Whyn. Remember? As I recall you said it belonged to me. Were those not your exact words?” Then Reiv fixed Dayn his stare. “And because it is mine I demand that it not be traded. Under no circumstances is it to find its way into my brother’s hand, Dayn.”

  “I have had enough of this game!” Whyn said. He slid his sword from its sheath with a hiss of metal and raised it above his head as he shouted a command. The gates of Tearia burst open, and a host of Guard on horseback swarmed through. Those at Whyn’s back lurched forward.

  Dayn raised a signal, and the Jecta streamed toward him, their voices lifted in high-pitched battle cries. Those on horseback rushed to Dayn’s side, their weapons poised and ready.

  The Tearian cavalry was upon the Jecta in an instant. A rain of arrows streamed through the sky, sailing in opposite directions. Warriors from both sides collapsed to the ground. Horses fell, spilling their riders into the dirt. The Guard advanced with spears, crossbows, and swords. The Jecta met them with knives, sickles, and bows of their own design. The battle roared in an ear-splitting explosion of red and silver and brown.

  Reiv struggled to stay on his horse, but Gitta bolted, and he soon found himself tumbling to the ground. Hooves thundered around him, kicking dirt into his face. He rolled to his knees and staggered up, his hands still bound. Two guards galloped toward him, their swords swinging in his direction. He threw his body to the side and landed hard on his belly.

  Reiv raised his head and scanned the dusty swirl of horse and warrior. He saw Jensa and Torin in the distance, still mounted and fighting side by side. Brina and Alicine were nowhere to be seen. Reiv rose, panicked for their safety, but then he spotted Dayn reining his horse in his direction. Dayn urged the animal forward, but Crymm, whose bonds had been cut, suddenly rushed forward, yanking Dayn from his mount.

  The Lion fell from Dayn’s grasp and landed with a thud into the dirt. Crymm dove and retrieved it in a flash. Dayn pulled the dirk from his waistband and positioned his body for defense. With a loud shout, the guard lunged at him, but Dayn leapt aside. Crymm spun to face him, his face contorted with rage. He lunged again, slamming the force of his weapon against that of his less experienced opponent.

  Reiv screamed out as Dayn was knocked to the ground. Crymm grinned and straddled Dayn, now on his back. Crymm raised the Lion for the strike, but paused as though savoring the moment. Reiv rushed forward and threw his fists against him, shoving Crymm into the dirt. The guard rose and wheeled to face Reiv, then leapt forward, a guttural sound resonating from his throat. Crymm’s eyes gleamed with anticipation.

  A riderless horse appeared from out of nowhere and careened toward them. It reared on its hind legs, bringing the weight of its massive body down upon the unsuspecting guard. Crymm fell to the ground, contorted and unmoving. Blood pooled around his head, tracked into the dirt where the horse had stepped away from him.

  Gitta made her way to Dayn and lowered her head. Dayn grabbed hold of her mane and pulled himself to his feet, then rushed over to cut the bindings from Reiv’s wrists. They paused to stare at Crymm, neither saying a word. For a moment the man seemed to stare back at them, but his eyes saw nothing at all.

  Reiv turned and search the ground. “Where is the sword? Where is the sword!” he cried. Then he froze. Whyn could be seen climbing back onto his mount nearby, the Lion grasped in his hand.

  Mahon galloped toward Reiv and Dayn. Reiv tensed, certain his uncle meant to kill them both. But the man sped past and headed for Brina, who could be seen fighting to control her frenzied horse.

  “Get to the back of the line!” Mahon shouted at her. “Take the women to the back of the line!”

  Brina nodded, pale faced, and steered the horse as best she could. She commanded the animal in Alicine’s direction, and the two of them retreated from the chaos.

  Whyn thundered toward Dayn and Reiv, a bloodcurdling scream tearing from his lungs. Reiv leapt to the side and fell, sprawled across a body. A vision flashed before his eyes—this had happened before! He rolled off quickly, then rose to his hands and knees. A stickiness coated his palms; he jerked them back and wiped them across his chest. A shadow swept the ground before him. The horse and rider! He twisted around to see his attacker, but Dayn cried out and planted his body between them. Dayn raised the dirk with a determined hand. The Lion Sword swung down to meet it.

  Reiv watched as his cousin and brother fought, their images black shapes against a palette of morning light. The terrifying clank of blade upon blade r
ang in his ears. Whyn clearly had the advantage, but Dayn somehow managed to hold his own. Whyn’s horse unexpectedly circled away, and for a moment appeared to retreat. Dayn risked a glance at Reiv, his face awash with confusion. But then Whyn reined his mount back toward him and dug in his heels, the sword raised high. Reiv thrust out a warning hand, but before he could shout a word, Mahon rushed between Dayn and Whyn.

  Mahon was on foot; his steed had been swept from beneath him by the pierce of an arrow. But the man stood fast, facing Whyn with clear determination. He motioned Dayn back and aimed his sword at Whyn, more as a warning than an attack. Whyn halted and stared him down. No words passed between the King and his Commander, but the message in their eyes was clear: Mahon intended to save his son; Whyn intended to slay the Unnamed One.

  Whyn kicked in his heels and the stallion lunged forward. Blades glinted in the air, then met with a clash as the horse swept past. Whyn stopped abruptly and turned his mount around. Mahon clutched his sword with both hands as he readied for the next attack. The horse barreled toward him, brushing against him and knocking him to his knees. The Lion descended, slashing Mahon from shoulder to breastbone.

  Blood gushed from the wound and dripped into the dirt. Mahon staggered up and turned to face Whyn, who was now reining his stallion to make another pass. The horse reached him in a fleeting moment. Mahon swung his weapon with effort, but for all his determination, he had little strength left. He swiped again, his body spinning from the weight of his sword. Whyn plunged the Lion into Mahon’s unsuspecting back, screaming a shout of victory.

  Mahon threw his head back and crumpled to the ground. Whyn glared down at him in disgust. “Traitor!” he hissed.

  Dayn rushed to Mahon’s side and pulled him into his arms. Mahon looked into Dayn’s face, then grabbed his hand and held it tight. “I am… sorry…son,” he said. He kept his gaze on Dayn a moment longer, then his grasp went limp and his eyes grew still.

  “Father!” Dayn cried as he shook him hard. “Father, please!”

  “Now you may join him,” Whyn said, advancing toward him.

  Dayn rose, his hands trembling with fury. But he suddenly felt the earth tremble and shift beneath his feet. He stumbled, throwing out a protective arm as he toppled to the ground.

  The battle stopped as eyes darted around in confusion. A deep rumble was heard as the shaking of the earth grew more violent. Warriors from both sides fell to their knees. Voices cried out in terror as horses reared and bucked. All eyes turned to the mountains where the tallest peak was sending a billow of smoke high into the sky. The cloud rose, then imploded and rolled across the mountain range like a great tumbling wave.

  The wall surrounding Tearia buckled, then crumbled to ruin. The towering buildings of the great city swayed and jerked. People on the battlefield scattered, the Guard heading toward the city, the Jecta running in the opposite direction. Reiv and Dayn staggered to their feet, then froze, paralyzed by the horrendous sight.

  Whyn wheeled his horse to face the city. Buildings broke apart in massive chunks. Clouds of dust rose high into the air as stone and marble plummeted to the earth. Whyn kicked in his heels, screaming a command for his horse to gallop forward, and disappeared into the carnage that was Tearia.

  BACK TO ToC

  Chapter 25: Aftermath

  The world continued to tremble in the days that followed. Tearia was left as little more than teetering walls and piles of block. Thousands of people perished and thousands more were injured as the wall that had been built to protect them had only served to entrap them. Some structures were left standing for a time, but one by one they were leveled in the aftershocks that followed.

  Tearian survivors massed outside their city, forced to abandon rescue attempts until the earth ceased its shudderings. The mountain to the north continued to smoke, but the billowing clouds had begun to dissipate. People staggered around in a daze, tending to the injured as best they could, scavenging for medical supplies, food, and water. Wells were tainted, and the fresh water streams that had previously cascaded down the slopes were now buried. New sources needed to be found in the hills between the city and the mountains, but few would risk going there. The gods were still too angry.

  The once abundant supplies of food housed in Tearian storerooms were lost, and the orchards and crops nearest the city were all but destroyed. Those that survived were quickly raided. Treks were made to the far fields, but the destruction there was equally severe. The wildlife, once abundant in the forests, had scattered, leaving only rodents and lizards to scurry about. The Tearians were soon starving; they did not have the skill to utilize the alternative sources that nature provided.

  Meirla suffered a different kind of damage. The palm trees scattered throughout the seaside village had swayed until one by one they thundered to the ground. The vast waters had roiled and churned, and with each new aftershock they grew darker and more turbulent. Great waves crashed upon the shore, sweeping huts away with them. More life was lost from the cruel surge of the waters than from the quake itself, and although the sea had calmed, the Shell Seekers still feared to go into it.

  Pobu was a pile of mud brick and broken timbers. Much life was lost within the Jecta city, but the casualties were far less than in Tearia, thanks to the mysterious last-minute order for evacuation. Those who had received the warning, and heeded it, found refuge to the south of Pobu. They had watched from the hills as their city crumbled like a sand castle toppled by a giant hand. Remnants of walls were all that remained of their homes, but without the risk of unstable buildings, the Jecta were able to get to work far more efficiently than the Tearians.

  The Jecta managed to dig up some of the crates of food that had been taken from the fields during the raid weeks before. They found much of it to be relatively unscathed. They scavenged the hillsides, fields, and forests, finding a small, but edible, supply of food. They knew which plants provided nutritious roots, leaves, and berries, and knew many recipes to make them more palatable. But their most dependable source of food in the days that followed proved to be the rats that swarmed the ruins of their city. The Jecta had long ago learned to survive on whatever they could find.

  A Jecta encampment was set up to the south, not far from the wreckage of Pobu, but miles from Tearia to its north. There was no contact between the people of the two cultures at first, but by the end of the first week following the cataclysm, refugees from Tearia, hungry and desperate, began to solicit aid from those they had once enslaved. They were met with only disdain.

  A gathering of the clans was called, and they met under a patch of barren trees that had once been part of a lush orchard. The ground sloped downward, and Dayn and Reiv positioned themselves at the highest point. The rest of the crowd sat scattered before them. Minds still seemed to gravitate toward the two of them for leadership, especially Dayn, who was now revered for his life-saving premonition. To some it seemed odd that two mere boys had proved to be the real leaders amongst them, but there were no complaints as all eyes turned to them now.

  Reiv raised his hands to calm the disgruntled crowd. “Your anger is understandable,” he said. “But the Tearians need your help. Will you refuse them?”

  A man rose and shook his fist in the air, denouncing any suggestions of charity. Others shouted in agreement.

  “Before you deny them, consider this,” Reiv said. “You have an opportunity to rebuild your world without Tearian rule. Their power has been stripped away. They depend on you now more than ever. Are you going to stand by and watch them starve? If that is your decision, so be it, but history may well show you to be no better than they are.”

  “History or no, they come seeking our help, but we’ll get nothing from them in return,” an elderly woman said.

  “You do not know that for certain,” Reiv said. “Perhaps in time their hearts will turn our way.”

  “Maybe some of her people will turn our way,” a voice in the back shouted, “but the King and the Priestess never will!”
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  Reiv lowered his eyes. “I do not know the fate of the King, nor of anyone in his household. But I do know that of the Priestess. She will trouble us no more.”

  “How can you know?” a young man asked.

  Reiv’s jaw tensed. “Agneis saw to her destruction. I was there.”

  The crowd gasped almost as one, then mutterings of wonder made the rounds. The young man spoke up again. “Why did Agneis forsake us? Why did she and the gods see to our destruction? You said if we faced our enemy we would not be deserted. We heeded your words and look what happened.”

  “What happened was not the will of the gods, it was merely the way of things. But were you not all warned?” Reiv gestured his hand toward Dayn who was standing off to the side. “Did

  Dayn not see what was to come? Did he not call for the evacuation? That, my friends, was the will of the gods.”

  Eyes turned to Dayn in appreciation, and the people calmed momentarily as they considered the wisdom of Reiv’s words.

  “You’re right,” a woman said. “We survived because of Dayn and for that we’re grateful. No one could have known what was going to happen without the guidance of the gods.”

  “You must understand,” Reiv said. “We live in an unstable world. It has always been so, and will be until the end of all things.”

  “What are you saying?” someone asked.

  “I am saying nothing is eternal except the After Realm, and even that magnificent place goes through transformations. With each ending there is a new beginning. That is the way of the world.”

  One of the clan representatives rose and turned to face the crowd, looking from one end of it to the other as though seeking support. “I for one am willing to consider aiding the Tearians,” he said. “There were some among ‘em who sided with us. I’m not a cruel man, but before I lift a finger to help, I want assurances from their King that there’ll be no vengeance against us. I want our demands to be addressed, but all of ‘em this time, not just a few, and with no compromises on our part. Only with the King’s promise to accept and abide by those demands, drawn up and documented before witnesses from both sides, will I ever agree to help.”