A Leaf and Pebble

by Andrew Monroe

  Theo couldn’t even pick his up without making me cringe.

  So, we mirrored Volant’s style of practice after everyone had worn through enough bad habits to make them tired and malleable. As a precaution, we worked more on defensive forms than anything. Slow, lunging thrusts, brought back into an even slower parry. This by itself took most of the afternoon to get correctly. Rook would have been proud though.

  By dinner, not one of the Misfits would speak to me, and all walked stiffly back to the camp, minor hisses of pain accompanying each step. Dark moods matching the completely sweat soaked clothing. Dinner was cold, which certainly didn’t help cheer anyone up. Conversation was non-existent.

  Secretly, I was thrilled that they’d listened so well and practiced so hard. Less secretly, I worried we would be nowhere ready for what seemed to be an imminent attack on us. Yet, another day passed in this manner. Though less intensive than the first, and with much longer breaks between each session. I almost allowed hope for us to be combat ready before the Equals made their move.

  Our luck ran out. Barely through our morning jog on the fourth day, a bloodied scout came galloping into view on the horizon. The scout practically fell off the horse when he came to the first company of Guard who ran out to greet him. On closer inspection, the man did have a long, dark arrow piercing his lower right side, and was nearly out of blood by the time we got over to Yillan’s company. He died shortly after arriving. His last word being that the Equals were coming. Dioden had been alerted, but before a decision could be made as to what to do, the Equal’s army began appearing just on the edge of the horizon like a black line bisecting the earth and sky. They began to make their own camp.

  Dioden’s small contingent of riders were sent in opposite directions immediately. Each one off to spread the word to the other camps that made up Brod’s defense. The day grew tense. When the Equals still did not attack despite the surprise advantage, every spare spear, long sword, and moderately dangerous looking tent pole not already in use was wedged into the ground in a wide arc towards the enormous mob across the grassland from us.

  It seemed quite clever, the way the defenses were placed. First, two shallow trenches were dug. One deep enough to break an ankle, and the second just shallow enough to hammer in stakes. These were at such an angle that the incredibly tall grass of Tryst hid the ends. Not completely, but it was definitely hard to see there was a wall of dangerously sharp objects facing out. Two corridors were left open in the semi-circle of spears, one halfway on the right, the second mirrored on the left.

  These corridors were just a bit wider than two large horses abroad, in case we had some form of cavalry before things got rough. Spacing for the defensive perimeter between the spears was just wide enough for a large man to pass through, and just narrow enough for a small horse to not. Anything larger and they’d be impaled trying to get through.

  None of the scouts made it back with reinforcements before the first attack came. Volant and I were nervously trying to figure out how we’d sleep as night began to fall when a cry of alarm shot icy adrenaline through us. Another two shouts bravely rang out before the clamor and panic of Dioden’s army drowned out anything intelligible.

  Both Volant and I were out of our beds, weapons drawn when a cry of pain, much closer by and full of fear rang out. Two swings of his rapier and we were dashing out the back of our tent towards the sound. At least half the Guard beat us to the screaming man. On top of that, they’d successfully filled a pair of Slithers and their mounts with more spears than seemed physically possible.

  “I’ve always heard they hunt in threes,” a woman muttered, hand shaking while she tried to wrench on the polished spear shaft she’d embedded in the creature’s squat neck.

  It was dark. Only one person had thought to light a torch before rushing out toward the alert. The comment, mixed with the lack of visibility, raised the hairs on my neck. Almost immediately, I began scanning the grass around the perimeter.

  “There!” I shouted, pointing at a pair of gleaming yellow eyes peering from the grass line. The Erset borne fear of Slithers struck home with a shudder inducing thrill in my body. Only those close by could see where I pointed, but nearly everyone immediately went back on alert, just in time for the scaly creature to erupt from the perimeter’s edge, pale skinned rider on its back.

  Four people died before we could mount a defensive. Swords stabbed in at the man and lizard from every direction. Scared men and women fueling their attacks with a primal fear of fanged creatures that slink in the night. Just as fast as the first two were put to rest, so did the third fall. The fight seemed to stretch out for an eternity though it actually lasted five or six breaths. More torch bearers where coming to see what the commotion was about. Dioden arrived, flanked by Yillan, neither looking like sleep had been in their cards either.

  I doubt anyone slept the remainder of the morning. The few injured were gathered, and the dead laid out. Enormous fires were built around which everyone huddled. It wasn’t necessarily cold, though the bite of an autumn morning could be felt. Light was what we really needed. Our safety blanket while the sun still hid.

  Thirty-two

  When the morning finally came, a lot of those who’d been awake for the entire night promptly went to sleep, enemy or no. Dioden’s dead numbered thirteen, a few of the Guard on the back side of the camp, and a small trail of bodies leading to where the three Slithers were slain. A gruesome sight to be sure.

  Many of the men and women seemed shaken even more so now that they could see what we were up against. A few, thankfully only a few, had seen the carnage and deserted on the spot, heading back towards Brod in a frightened daze. Nothing was done to stop them. Their weapons, and those of the dead were added to the pointy perimeter. None of the Misfits had been killed, but after the nights ordeal we forewent any training. I ordered them to rest and fill up on as much food as they could.

  Volant and I took turns napping. It was unintentional at first, but much needed in reviving our spirit. When I stepped outside of the shaded tent, it appeared our allies had arrived. Well rested and well fed Guards were raucously greeting the Elites who’d shown up. Within a matter of hours, the camp had practically tripled in size.

  To Volant’s and my utter delight, a group of Soft Steppers had also arrived, Qaewin finding us as soon as she’d heard we were there. Even Qaewin’s zymph seemed happy to see us, barely growling once, and even rubbing up against Volant while we hugged.

  “See you’ve been having fun,” she said, voice as soft as a quiet breeze.

  “We’ve been having a lot of something.” Volant stepped in to hug her. “Fun’s not the word I would pick, though.”

  I patted Volant on the shoulder, chuckling. “He’s just tired of early mornings. If I were a betting man, my wager would be that if he has much more fun, he’ll end up either dead, or killing me.”

  “We are betting people,” Volant said emphatically.

  “Not remotely!” I placed a hand over my heart, eyes wide with shock. “We make bets, sure. But never do we make them on outcomes we don’t already know! Really, there’s quite a difference.”

  Qaewin watched the exchange, mildly amused. “Life’s been so boring without you two.”

  Simultaneously, Volant and I bowed to her. Qaewin giggled at our display.

  “Show off,” I mouthed when we both stood. “Not that I’m unhappy you’re here,” I began, “but why are you?”

  The question seemed to surprise her, more than even finding us at a Guard encampment unchained. She took a moment, gauging whether I was serious or not.

  “This is Tryst.” She spoke slowly, waiting for us to catch on. “There are Slithers.” Qaewin acted like this was some kind of magic equation.

  Volant and I stared at her expectantly.

  She sighed, rolling her eyes in dismay. “We don’t get along. If they stay in the forests, or go bother the Night Racers, we can leave them alone. Whenever they set foot on our plains thoug
h, they’ve signed their own death warrants. It’s a mutual understanding we have. Apart from them being as pale as death, no offense Nil, the true problem lies with the beasts we ride. If either one catches a whiff of the other on their ‘territory’, there’s nothing to be done until the intruder is dead. It’s taken quite some convincing for our zymphs not to just go off and attack.”

  I gestured towards her zymph. “She seems to be doing fine.”

  “Only because she’s smarter than her siblings. Even then, I can only manage to distract her for a few minutes at a time before she turns her attention back on them. Already, two zymphs have ran off and attacked the Slithers. Both were lost.”

  Sure enough, the large cat was crouched behind Qaewin, staring out towards the equals encampment.

  “Even if I wanted to, there’s no way for me to get her to hunt, or play, or head in a direction that’s not towards the Slithers.” She reached over, scratching the giant cat behind its ear lovingly. “Fortunately, I doubt a repeat of last night is in store for you now that we are here. In our territory, those slimy god spawns know to be afraid. As much as we want to attack, they want to retreat back into their forests.”

  Volant cringed at the mention of the morning’s attack, but the thought of a safe night’s rest was welcome news.

  “Does Slandash have a tent set for you yet?” I asked. “Ours is big enough for another three or four people if you need a place.”

  Laugh lines crinkled at the corner of her lips, her barely perceptible smile a yes in its own right. “If you both don’t mind Chloe and I joining you, the company would be much appreciated.”

  Volant looked around confused. “Chloe?”

  Qaewin gestured towards the zymph, an eyebrow raised. Dumb question, apparently.

  We showed her to the tent, helping transfer a rich pile of blankets, quilts, and furs from her father’s command tent he had begun unpacking. While we walked back and forth, we took turns filling in the gaps between the assassin’s attempt when Rook showed up to now. Nothing seemed to excite her more than Volant’s recount of Wydvis’ flying ships.

  Once we’d finished, the sun had already begun fading. A rotating shift had been established, one third of the now much larger camp being on watch at all times, making a human chain around the tents. Every eight hours was to be the rotation change, and the only people excluded were the Soft Steppers, who seemed to spend most of their time scouting once settled. The other Misfits were also excluded from the watch, partly due to their special nature, and partly to their lack of inclusion with the original Guard.

  The three of us, plus Jepp and Alisandra shared a small dinner and listened to Volant tell old sky pirate stories. Not that he didn’t relish these stories himself, but with Qaewin’s insistence and undivided attention, I fell asleep to the tales of Captain Hiwensa and his crew of grizzled men raiding caravans and market centers alike. There were plenty of sword fights and quick wits playing integral roles in the narrative.

  Another three companies arrived with their camps set up in the increasingly growing perimeter. By now, the line of tents, mostly a hodge-podge of canvas and poles, reached back far enough that you couldn’t see the last ones. Dioden’s newest reinforcements were a less colorful bunch. Elites, mostly. They all wore the black on black cloth and leather, and actually seemed to have experienced a bit of combat, somehow, somewhere.

  I gave them a wide berth, and they did likewise. My guess, Dioden had given specific instructions to not kill Volant and I, considering they had taken it personally that the squad of their compatriots had died in something associated with us.

  I doubted blaming it on lake bandits would get us off the hook. A good number of additional Soft Steppers had also arrived, but these too gave us looks of disdain. I guess the whole assassin incident still left a sour taste in some of their mouths.

  Finishing a peremptory walk around the perimeter, I headed to Dioden’s tent since no one else seemed to be awake who didn’t have to be this early.

  “Where have you been?” I demanded of Slandash as we hugged in greeting.

  Slandash, less irked at the Equals than I, just laughed. “It’s truly a pleasure to see you again, Nil.”

  Dioden stood behind his table, mild surprise quirking that eyebrow up again. “You do know each other.”

  We both turned to the supreme. “You could say that,” Slandash agreed. I noted a hint of guarded venom in his tone, and almost misinterpreted it to assume knowing me was not something he was keen on admitting. But his eyes corrected me almost instantly. They were two beads of hard, angry mistrust, directed at Dioden.

  Dioden was unaffected by the gaze, meeting it with no more concern than a parent would a child’s glare. If someone looked at me the way Slandash looked at Dioden, I’d most likely wither up on the spot.

  “He helped us out of a tight spot a while back,” I said, interrupting the staring contest between the two. “Coincidentally, the same spot of trouble you’re using to blackmail Volant and I. Strange, eh?” With that, I’d effectively vilified Dioden, who sighed with tired nonchalance. On the other hand, the leader of the Soft Steppers took a step forward, hand reaching behind him for a knife, eyes bulging. Hard, tense muscles bunched up under my hand as I held Slandash’s shoulder, stopping him.

  “Thought we should all be on the same page, being allies and all.” I grinned at Dioden.

  “Nil, please,” he began. “I am not blackmailing you. We both know I don’t have the resources to imprison you right now. Merely, I am offering you what reward I could for helping safeguard yourself and the innocents of Brod, with the condition that if you don’t, I will be sure to hunt you down and carry out my duty if I survive this encounter without your help. It doesn’t get more fair than that.”

  “That’s true now, but not necessarily so when we arrived,” I countered.

  He nodded in agreement. “Granted, I may have implied more immediate consequences then, but we’re both past that.” Dioden waved his hand in the air, as if shooing a fly. “It does not matter. We are not here to make friends. Your question, ‘what are they waiting for,’ has been keeping both Slandash and I busy since dawn this morning. Essentially, we don’t know.”

  Slandash muttered some curse under his breath before regaining his composure, turning a softer gaze on me. “It makes no sense. They know they outnumber us. Tactically, we should have been wiped out while it was just us, and they could then take care of the individual groups as they appeared with little to no strain on their forces.”

  I smacked my head, making Dioden raise an eyebrow. Everything suddenly made sense in a flash of intuition. “It’s pride, for starters.”

  “Pride?” Dioden seemed confused, not following the reasoning.

  “Of course. Or at least that’s what that Xylex, the councilman I told you about, is using to make sure this isn’t a slaughter.” I sat down suddenly, rubbing my temples. “It’s so simple. Spread around to the Equals that defeating us before being able to present a unified front would be a hollow victory. A new regime founded on trickery and deceit. These men and women have too much pride, they need control in a manner that would be lauded. A courageous victory. Add in the higher ups, the zealots who truly wish extermination of Learners. They want every person they deem as an enemy to be gathered to be eliminated. I imagine whoever is in charge is feeding them stories of rebellion, long years of hunting resistance groups, and so on. Really though, it’s all to make sure they specifically don’t wipe the board with you too quickly. A prolonged war is needed.” I finished, triumphant in my logic.

  Slandash heartily agreed, while Dioden still held firm that it wouldn’t be possible for such a thing to be organized and executed by some political ladder climber. Both could agree with a pride factor, though it was Slandash who seemed to be against the thought that anyone could be so bloodthirsty that they would wait for the whole herd to come to slaughter.

  Another figure slipped into the tent while we argued further. Slim, black o
n black clothing. Dioden’s second in command, Yillan.

  “Hello there, Yillan! You’re here just in time to help me sway these two morons.” Dioden grinned at her.

  She cleared her throat, awkwardly. “Actually, sir.” She paused. “It seems they have sent a messenger. White flag and all. Unfortunately, he refused to speak with me, demanding to speak directly with you. Somehow, he knew you were here, and no amount of persuasion could convince him otherwise. I, um, may have punched him. In the face.”

  Dioden’s grin slipped a bit at this. “Seriously?”

  Both Slandash and I chuckled as Yillan nodded, chagrined.

  “Very well,” he said reprovingly. “We will speak later, if this isn’t some horribly capable assassin.” He paused at the tent flap, holding a hand to stop her from following. “You should probably not come, considering.”

  With that, he strode out leaving the three of us in his tent.

  Slandash spoke first, rising from his squat and brushing non-existent dirt off his shirt. “Nil, I’ll find you when I have a chance. It’s time for me to check in with the other Steppers now that everyone should be settled. It’s truly good to see you again.” He nodded briefly to Yillan, and then left us alone in the tent.

  “Nil,” she said with a step towards the flap. “Fancy a round of Kingdoms before we are killed by a horde of zealots?”

  “How could I say no?” I followed her out into the fresh morning. We wound our way through poles, staked down ropes, and the occasional soldier until arriving at an unassuming tent. The only indication that this was the next highest-ranking Guard was a set of crossed shafts, spear heads dug down into the earth.

  “X marks the spot,” I said, thinking about Volant’s stories the previous night.

  “So they say.” Yillan gestured me in.

  Her tent, unlike everyone else’s, had furniture. A pair of makeshift stools sat on either side of a table that dominated the center. The table was nothing more than stout pieces of wagon paneling, with what I guessed to be the same wagon’s wheel balanced on top. Lying across the spokes, a heavy, circular board sat. Each triangle was expertly carved into the wood. The pieces already set up. A pair of men’s trousers hung from a corner of the table, a pair that looked frightfully similar to ones I’d seen Dioden in. Yillan cleared her throat self-consciously after tossing them into a corner of the room.