Norryn nodded with reluctance. “You’re right, of course,” he said, lowering his head. “I just miss him, that’s all.”
Alderich hated to see his young son hurt in such a way. “I know. We all do, son. I want him here as much as you do. However, there is something you can do to ease some of that pain right now,” he said.
Norryn scowled at him. “You are going to say douse, aren’t you?”
“Exactly!” said Alderich merrily. “It is hard to dwell on anything as that cold-water lashes over your skin and reaches your bones!”
“Well I can now focus ire upon you, father. See? My problem is solved at last!” he exclaimed.
“Nice try, son,” said Alderich as he looked about. I’ve a better thought. Let’s go see if I can work something out to get him home. How does that sound to you?”
Norryn’s face lit up at this. “You really have to ask?”
Alderich looked down into his boy’s eyes. “I don’t suppose that I do. Don’t forget to spend a little time with your mother today. And I will see you later tonight.” He hugged his son before heading indoors. “And don’t forget to douse!”
“And how am I supposed to forget that?”
“That’s the idea, my boy!” And with that, he was gone.
Norryn watched him as he went. He stood there for a while, glancing at the kids at play. A few of the parents nodded and smiled as they walked by. They all had a similar look in their eyes. They’re afraid, all of them. He looked silently at the clear sky and smelled the air. There’s a storm, and it’s coming very soon. I just wish I knew when and how. Then I would feel like I was of some use. Trying to stay ahead of dark thoughts, Norryn Ashener went inside to face the bucket before finding his mother.
{7}
Vladen of the Achylles clans screamed as he fell to his knees, overwhelmed with pain. He gripped at the rifle before him as its double-bladed bayonets made their way through his armor and into his abdomen. The last of his fighting strength left him completely. The soldier standing over him pulled his rifle free and Vladen fell to his side. The remaining soldiers of Thorne lowered their weapons, relieved that the fight was over at long last.
From a distance, Major Gregory Winston surveyed the carnage as he lit up another smoke. The two Ro’Nihn were defeated, but it had come at a heavy cost. Surrounding them were the corpses of at least 27 men, an impressive kill ratio for two warriors. Winston took the time to marvel at their display of skill and grace. He was even disappointed when the warriors fell. But his reverie was interrupted when one of his soldiers reloaded his rifle, intending on finishing off the final Ro’Nihn.
“Stop!” Winston screamed. “Stand down, soldier. There’s no need for that. Our job here is done.”
As Major Winston approached, the soldier looked at him questionably as he lowered his rifle. “But, sir, he’s still alive.” He motioned where the final Ro’Nihn now used his remaining strength to crawl to his fallen comrade.
Winston nodded indifferently. “That’s true, private, but for how much longer? His wounds will take him soon enough.”
Another soldier joined the conversation. His voice was hoarse and exhausted from the extremely long fight. “But we owe him, sir. Look how many they killed!”
Winston’s eyes narrowed as he motioned to the fallen enemy. “Did you forget already who shot first in this affair? Would you have fought with any less resolve had the roles been switched? These two have showed more courage on this day than most of us will see in a lifetime. They are true warriors and they will die with honor and not execution. There is no need to desecrate them for their actions.” Major Winston held his ground until he was certain his order would be followed. He motioned absently to the group. “Prepare for travel, we are leaving in two minutes.”
The first soldier motioned to the carnage that had been wrought from battle. “But, sir, what about our dead?”
Major Winston waved off the question. “Don’t worry, soldier. I’ve marked this location’s coordinates. We’ll send a group back for our fallen. For now, we have a mission to complete. Let’s move.”
Major Winston watched as his orders were carried out. Behind him he could hear the surviving Ro’Nihn’s painful breaths as he reached his dead comrade. Her death had made him even more formidable as he harnessed his rage to fight harder. He heard the Ro’Nihn collapse, could hear him using his last moments to apologize to his friend.
Major Winston discarded his cigarette, exhaling the final contents of smoke from his lungs. He turned his head slightly, regarding the fallen Ro’Nihn from the corner of his eye. He dared not turn. He had not the courage to face the damage his commands had brought upon the fallen.
“Vladen wasn’t it? For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” said Winston. “It was not my desire to see you or any of your group killed today. Please believe me when I say you are not the only victims in a larger, darker scheme.”
Major Winston wanted to turn, wanted the dying Ro’Nihn to look into his eyes and see he meant every word, to see that he too had to accept a fate that was not his. For years Winston had studied Vallance and their people, but none fascinated him more than the Ro’Nihn of Axiter. It was his greatest wish to see them in action. It killed him inside that the fulfillment of such a wish had meant only death and pain.
Lighting another cigarette, Winston made it look as if he was fetching more from his pack. As he did so, he removed a small bag, tossing it quickly behind him. His next words were softer, more cautious. “This was salvaged from the packs on your cycles. Rations and medical supplies I would guess. It is all I can do, I wish it were more.” Major Winston started to walk away. “Farewell, Ro’Nihn. You have done your country proud.”
With his last vitality, Vladen watched as Major Winston departed. As the Thorne officer mounted his horse, Vladen’s attention returned to Gianna. She looked peaceful in death and Vladen had been grateful her passing had come swiftly. She had died fighting, died with honor. It was his tremendous shame that he had not been able to save her.
With shaky, bloody hands, Vladen softly held Gianna’s face, kissing her head above her battered mask. As his vision faded, he placed his head next to hers and closed his eyes. Vladen wished to know peace, to accept the fate that now rested upon him. But as he closed his eyes, just before darkness swallowed him whole, all Vladen could feel was anger at the twist of destiny upon him.
“Gianna, forgive me,” he whispered.
It was then that anger and desperation was lifted, and with closed eyes, Vladen of the Achylles found soft, sweet serenity.
CHAPTER 2
Rising Darkness
A cold, bleak sky shrouded the surrounding lands of Thorne. It seemed that no cloud was safe from the putrid smoke of the churning machinery. Weather was rarely a factor in the outcome of the forecast, overshadowed always by the factories and their steady flow of toxins into the air. In terms of quality of land, the areas around these factories were considered a total waste. And as far as most in Thorne were concerned it was the necessary price to pay for the life-sustaining energy it provided for the rest of the country.
Janzen Wollace slowly paced about. It was mid-afternoon, though he wouldn’t have cared even if the sun had shown its face. He was here on duty, and that was all that mattered. Soon he would meet up with the informant for the data he needed, what Thedron Ralick wished to know. All these talks of war, all the incessant planning, it bored him to no end. Janzen lusted for action and nothing less than that would suffice.
He instinctively pulled his colorless jacket closer to his body against the stiff wind. Clipped, matted hair dangled listlessly above his eyes. Janzen watched it for a second with a hard, brown eye. His other, a red, mechanical replacement looked on with savage indifference Janzen ran his right hand over the stubble on his chin. He knew he needed to shave but not because he could feel it. The scratching sound it made against his mechanical hand was proof enough.
Janzen spat on the ground in disgust, for he des
pised waiting. The informant had said that he might be delayed. Being inconspicuous had its drawbacks. Janzen knew this but didn’t have to like it. He brushed the dust from his coat. How long had it been since he had washed? Not that he cared. Janzen wasn’t paid to look pleasurable. He was paid to kill, and Janzen was skilled at his trade.
Janzen tried to distract himself by looking at the town again, when in truth he didn’t even allow himself to think of it as a town. To him, it was just a shoddy excuse for one, supplying the workers necessary to run the nearby petrol factory. Fuel was fuel, and presently the factories were running overtime. He could see the exhaustion in the eyes of every lackey he crossed. They’re just a bunch of filthy, lost parasites. Not even a decent woman to bed down with. There's not one here good enough to lick my boots. Hell with’em, this ain’t my lot. The sooner I get out of here the better. I’d have killed half of these mongrels for fun if I thought Ralick wouldn’t throw me in the petrol plants just for spite.
Janzen removed his hood before knocking more dust off his garments. He focused his attention in the distance. Sure enough, someone was finally heading toward him. It would take some time, but not more than he was willing to give. Janzen even thought he recognized the walk. A feral smile emerged on his face as he realized business was finally about to transpire.
With slow, sure steps his contact reached him. The man was a good height, but that was about all Janzen could measure of him. The heavy cloak that he chose to wear had obscured the rest of his features completely. The holstered pistol securely around his waist was the only thing that stood out. Oh goody. He’s just a dismal abyss of damn secrecy today. Janzen snorted. His contact did not even look up as he stood in front of him with arms hugging his waist. Several seconds passed before Janzen became impatient with the silence.
“You’re late,” spat Janzen. The machine man spat on the ground at the cloaked man’s feet. Janzen didn’t really care about the time at all. He would have found a reason to be rude had his contact been early.
“I know,” said the mystery man. “I have my own affairs to attend and those I must answer to. The point is I made it, and I care not at all for how long you may have waited. We are both here and we should content ourselves with that.”
Janzen nodded with a grunt. “I suppose so. You just might turn out to be half as trustworthy as Ralick thinks you are,” he said, offering another spit to the ground.
The cloaked informant cocked his head. “How very reassuring. I’m honored by your confidence.” The two of them stood in silence again, with Janzen becoming more impatient. His cloaked companion didn’t seem to notice either way.
Janzen cleared his throat. “Well I’m not here for my damn health, ya know. What do you have for me other than the warmth of your company?”
The hooded man’s head slowly looked up. “All is going according to plan. With a little more pushing, Alderich Ashener will have no choice but to defend the borders of his lands.” Reaching within his cloak, he procured a parchment and tossed it toward Janzen. “Here are the coordinates for the encampment of Vallance soldiers raised to contest Thorne should you push southward. Just be sure that the trap is ready when it is time to spring it. We must be decisive on the first strike.”
Janzen looked at the parchment with pure relish. “Don’t you go worryin’ about that. You just do your job, and everything else’ll be fine. Ralick will be waiting for you to send word. There is a lot riding on this, so it would not be wise to screw up now. This plan took years to devise. It's Cresul’s baby, so if it doesn’t go smooth an’ sweet I can assure you that heads are gonna roll. And I mean fuggin’ roll boy, so you be sure that final nail in the coffin is god-damned good and hammered in before you sound all nice and calm as can be.”
The informant clenched his fists before calming himself quickly. “You can tell Ralick and Cresul that I will not fail.”
Janzen was still not moved. “Those words are all fine and dandy to say, boy, but I won’t be holding any breath until I see the actions to back’em. I sure as hell don’t trust you myself,” he said.
His hooded companion simply shrugged shrouded shoulders. “The only thing that matters is that Ralick does. Beyond all doubt, he knows I will succeed. The fact that he does place such faith in me infuriates you greatly.”
Janzen grunted at him, refusing to give his company any satisfaction. “Only time will tell if I get to praise you for your service or crush your skull with my hands,” he said.
The hooded man turned to leave. “Soon, all will be in place and the hammer will fall. Alderich Ashener’s legacy will be just a memory and Bannar along with it. You can count on that. Now go and wash down what flesh is left on you. I can still smell you over the fumes of that factory behind you.”
Janzen watched him go, almost until he could no longer see him anymore. It was true, he didn’t trust the man, but it was not his place to question such matters. His superiors had faith in him, and that would have to do for now. Besides, Thedron Ralick knew what he was doing. Janzen turned to head back to make his report. Ralick would be most pleased. And this in turn pleased Janzen Wollace. He had learned over the years that it was best to give Ralick only the results he desired. And if you couldn’t, you schemed and killed until you could.
{9}
The meeting hall of Bannar’s Gate filled quickly. There was much to discuss, and everyone seemed anxious to address the tough issues at hand. With a heavy heart, Alderich knew that the solutions would not come easily. His greatest hope was to make the best decisions regarding the welfare his people.
Most leaders liked to make their entrance after everyone was gathered. Alderich was quite the opposite, for he was usually one of the first to arrive. He and Norryn both loved to watch the large hall fill. They had a genuine love for the populace, and father and son knew more of them than they did not. Some days they talked to people as they arrived. Other days they were content to sit and watch in silence, for they found both alternatives equally enjoyable.
The town hall within Bannar’s Gate, sat thousands easily and it was always full on such occasions. Alderich had wanted meticulous care in its final creation, taking long months for the finished work. The chosen leader of Vallance felt in his very core that coming together as a people united was one of the defining traits of his country. Seeing the hall full time and time again was one of his greatest joys as a leader.
The fruits of Alderich’s patience had paid off. The hall was a thunderous reminder of Vallance splendor. The walls appeared almost endless, towering around rows of seating that looked as if they had been grown right out of the floor. The domed ceiling allowed ample light to the soothing, sandy colors of the room. Along the walls, support pillars rose all the way to the ceiling and gathered at a focal point on the the domed ceiling. At the front of the hall rested a long solid table and seats. Currently sitting were prominent patrons of Banner along with Alderich and Norryn.
Norryn focused on many of the faces at this table as the crowd’s noise began to die down. Cethric winked at Norryn as the boy looked down the table. He got nods and smiles from Brenn Ainsley, Elnaar Fortis, Danner Fortright and Esaundra Denore. Others like Ashelia Midoreah, Lancer Vanmorth and Geyre Windfalls appeared too occupied to give him more than a cursory notice. Norryn could understand that, for the tension in Bannar had been thick as of late. People wanted answers, hoping to ease their minds before the start of the Grand Harvest.
Alderich finally stood and called for order. Talks died down and everyone found their seat. He started by calling out people to discuss town matters. Issues involving the upcoming Grand Harvest were addressed first and following this were complaints, notices, and announcements. Alderich and those at the table addressed each item of business in turn. However, beneath each of these mundane concerns was a sense of expectation, like a heavy pressure in the air.
Finally, a farmer by the name of Wiltzen addressed the issue that everyone had been avoiding. “So Alderich, what do you make of this
talk of war with Thorne? Has the time come? Is it to be now?”
This brought a great number of murmurs from the crowd and in these voices were the threads of fear and anticipation. However, all noise died down the instant Alderich Ashener rose to address them. He stood for a moment, taking in the entire room. He put both hands on the ornate table and took a long breath before speaking. His eyes were sympathetic and serious.
“My friends, I believe I am just as aggrieved at this as any of you,” started Alderich. His voice was smooth and even, carrying easily throughout the hall. “I am not one for war. I believe the price that we paid to forge this country was high. There is no justification to send man or woman to their deaths for petty squabbles. Nevertheless, what rumors you have heard as of late are true. Be it from this house or on the street, the forces of Thorne are amassing in the north in great numbers. Our intelligence on the matter has been sketchy at best. So far, they are content to watch and wait, and we do not yet know what their intentions are. But this is the first act of organized aggressions in many years. Some are content to say that this will indeed pass like always. Others say that this will not pass and that unless we do something to challenge them they will attack. Sadly, I cannot say either way just yet. What I can say is that our forces are out there, and they are ready. We have dispatched couriers to open communications and hope to hear from them soon. We will not provoke a war with these people. But this does not mean that we are not prepared. That is all I can say on the matter now. What we discover, as soon as we discover it, you will know. Trust in me on this. That is all I can ask.”
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