by Ronald Craft
Chapter 10
Ilian stuffed the last of his clothes into his pack and wiped the sweat from his brow. He felt like a snowman with all of the clothes he had on.
Father and I used to make snowmen when I was a child. I miss those days. I miss him.
He shook the thought from his mind. Those days were over, never to return.
Karena's gaze met his, as if she had read his thoughts. Ilian quickly looked down and swung his pack over his shoulders. It took him a moment to balance himself with the added weight on his back.
After the assault on them several nights back, him and Karena had been up most of the night trying to explain to the innkeeper and the patrons what had happened. It had taken a lot of shouting and much gold to convince the innkeeper not to boot them out.
They spent the next couple of days resting and gathering supplies, but it was clear the entire town was suspicious of them based on the way they eyed him and Karena wherever they went. Aside from that, there was another problem.
Karena watched him even closer now.
“You ready yet? We don't have time to waste.” Karena crossed her arms and tapped her foot.
“I'm about as ready as I'll ever be. You sure we can't, you know, wait till spring?”
They had packed the same amount of supplies so far as he knew, and yet, he felt like he had a boulder strapped to him. Karena seemed to barely notice the additional weight on her back.
Is there really that much of a difference between us?
The wind outside howled and beat against the door of the inn. He shivered, despite the warmth of the fire inside.
Karena shook her head. “Funny. Now, get outside.” She grabbed Ilian and shoved him out the door.
Ilian stumbled and nearly fell into the snow. The wind bit at his exposed flesh and froze his breath. He shifted the pack on his back and pulled his hood up around his face.
He turned and glared at her. “You really didn't need to do that. Next time—”
Karena surged forward and grabbed Ilian by the front of his coat. Her dark-blue eyes filled his vision. “Don't ever forget why I'm here or think you can tell me what to or not to do. Got it, boy?” The sweet scent of mint filled Ilian's nostrils with each of her breaths.
He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Images of her, battered and covered in blood, flashed through his mind. His body shook with hatred.
I will kill you someday, you rotten bitch.
Karena shoved him back and raised her chin. “You want to hit me, don't you? Go ahead and try it. See what happens.” She grinned at him and spread her arms wide.
Ilian took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He knew what this woman could do; knew she was much stronger and faster than him. And yet, he couldn't stop himself. His eyes shot open, and he rushed her, screaming at the top of his lungs. The pack shifted on his back and he lost his balance, stumbling towards her.
Her smile broadened. “Still an amateur.”
The pack slid off Karena's shoulders and landed with a thud. She dipped below him and sank her fist into his stomach. The air burst from his lungs and he fell onto the ground, gasping in pain.
Ilian curled into a ball and gasped for air, but the pain in his abdomen persisted. Several minutes passed before he was able to fill his lungs with air once more. His arms shook as he pushed himself to his feet; his strength and anger drained by the cold earth beneath him.
Ilian shook his head. What was I thinking? I'm no match for her.
Karena leaned up against a building with her arms crossed. “All that muscle gone to waste. Kane taught you nothing of combat, did he?”
“My father wasn't a fighter,” he grunted. “He was just a blacksmith.”
She pressed her lips together. “You're right, he was a blacksmith. But, Kane was no stranger to the sword. He had a rare natural talent. That night in the alley...” Karena averted her eyes. “It might not have gone so smoothly for me if he had been armed.”
Ilian flung the thought away with a gesture. “Not possible. He wouldn't even let me help forge a sword. We argued constantly about it.”
She shrugged. “You never saw how he held a sword? Looked at a sword? All those years of living with him, working beside him, and you never saw the real Kane?”
“Karena, you just don't—”
“Pathetic,” she spat. “You don't even know the man you called father.”
Ilian's finger shot out, pointed at her face. “Don't you dare talk about him! What could a heartless woman like you know about my father?” His cheeks flushed, the anger renewed. “You're nothing but a killer.”
Karena's face softened. “I know more than you think, Ilian. This isn't the first time you've made this trip, you know.”
“Uhh,” Ilian scratched his head, “yes it is. I've lived in Lochden my entire life.”
“No, you haven't.” She pointed towards the mountains. “The difference is, last time you were strapped to my back and cried the whole way here. I don't have to carry you anymore,” she sneered, “but you still cry like a baby. I guess some things never change.”
Ilian's jaw dropped. “That's not possible, Karena. My father never mentioned—”
“Apparently,” she cut him off, “he failed to mention a lot of things.” There was no longer any mockery in her tone or expression.
She was serious.
What does all of this mean?
“What else are you hiding from me, Karena?” Ilian shifted the pack on his shoulders.
Her eyes narrowed for a moment and then she shook her head. “Horrors you can't even begin to comprehend.” She pushed off the wall and gestured towards the mountain path. “Let's get moving before the sun rises any higher than it already has. We need to be half way up the mountain before sunset.”
Ilian wanted to curse her, to shake her by her collar and demand she tell him what she knew. But, he knew it wouldn't do any good. The conversation was over and there was nothing he could do about it.
He followed her from a distance, his mind lost in thought. She had carried him to Lochden when he was a kid. So, did that mean Kane wasn't his real father? If so, who was his real father? Why hadn't Kane ever tell him any of that? Why had he hidden it? Question, after question, tumbled through his mind, but he had no answers for any of them.
I feel deceived. He lied to me all those years. Why couldn't you tell me the truth, Father? Why?
The sky around them was morbid. Dark cloud raced above their heads and blocked out the sun. Snow crunched beneath their feet as they set off at a brisk pace. The ice-covered stones around them grew in sized as they ascended and soon towered above their heads.
Ilian had never been to Gambler's Pass, but he had heard of it. It was a small, little known path, that ran through the mountains. Finding it was difficult, but traversing it was even more of a challenge. The path was always a gamble to travel because, while it was one of the fastest ways through the mountains, it was prone to avalanches and flash storms. Many people that attempted the path in the winter months were never heard from again.
Ilian gulped. I pray that luck is on my side, for once.
His breathing grew ragged and his muscles ached; his chest on fire from lugging the pack up the mountain. “Karena, can't we rest for a bit?”
Karena continued without slowing her pace. “No time for rest. We have a ways to go yet.”
Ilian groaned. I'll die from exhaustion, thanks to her, if the cold or an avalanche doesn't get me first.
He trudged onwards and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. When next he glanced at the sky, it had grown visibly darker; the clouds thicker than before.
Karena stopped up ahead and pulled a dagger from its sheathe. Ice chips flew around her as she began hacking away at something in front of her. Intrigued, Ilian plodded forward until he caught up. Closer now, he saw it was a boulder caked in snow and ice. It was darker than the other ro
cks around them and seemed out of place. A large symbol that he didn't recognize was carved into it.
Ilian stared at Karena, dumbfounded. “What're you doing?”
She motioned to him. “Help me break the ice on this boulder.”
“Umm, why?” He scratched his head.
She turned her head and glared at him. “There's a cave we can take shelter in here.” She waved her hand at him and began chipping away at the ice once more. “Unless you'd rather freeze off what little manhood you have, out in the cold.”
Ilian's cheeks flushed as he recalled the night of his dip in the river. He dropped his pack and began chopping away at the ice around the boulder with the handle of his own knife. It took them a long time to clear the ice and snow away, but eventually it budged just enough for them to get inside.
Karena repacked the entrance with snow. “Best not to roll the boulder back lest it freeze in place during the night. What woman would want to be trapped in a cave with you?” Her eyes danced with amusement.
He rolled his eyes. “Probably one that doesn't go around killing people.”
I'm glad she made me come all this way so she has someone to poke fun at. The trip to Lochden was probably boring without anyone for her to belittle constantly. Ilian sighed and dropped his pack against the cave wall. If I make it out of this alive, I'm finding myself a nice, quiet woman to marry.
The cave was dark and cold, but dry. He was at least thankful for that. Karena knelt in the back of the cave, her form briefly illuminated as sparks flew in front of her. This repeated several times before a small flame sprung to life and pushed back the darkness.
Ilian's eyes widened at what he saw. In the back of the cave there was a substantial pile of timber, as well as a number of pots and pans, some rusted with age, neatly stacked next to it.
“Where did all of this come from? How did it get all the way up here?” He was shocked and overjoyed at the prospect of a warm bed and hot food in his belly.
Karena blew gently on the fire and added some more wood to it. “There's at least one of these shelters on each mountain. The people from the surrounding villages maintain them.” The wood crackled and popped as the fire grew in strength and the smoke vented through a small hole in the ceiling. “ The climate changes quickly up here, and it's not always possible to get down the mountain before a storm hits.”
The cave slowly warmed up and Karena set about rustling through the pots and pans. She melted some snow over the fire and dumped some ingredients and spices she had fetched out of her pack into the water. His mouth salivated and his stomach rumbled as the aroma filled the cave. He couldn't make out what it was but, he was certain he had smelled this before.
Once finished, Karena grabbed a couple of bowls and ladled some of the stew into each. She handed him one and set about eating her portion.
“Eat up. It'll restore your strength.” She finished off her bowl and refilled it.
Ilian stared at the contents. Despite its enticing smell, it didn't look appetizing at all. There were stringy, white things floating around in it that gave him the shivers. He carefully spooned a little bit into his mouth and chewed.
His eyes widened. “This is delicious. What's in it?”
Karena snickered. “It's a secret.”
He looked from her to the pot and then to his own bowl. “I'm not sure how I feel about this...”
She shrugged. “More for me, then.” She reached for his bowl, but he pulled it back and covered it with his hand.
Ilian shoveled down the rest of his bowl and helped himself to another two servings. He set his bowl down and sighed.
I don't care what it is. I'm just glad to have a full belly. His eyes grew heavy and he fought back a yawn.
Karena already had her bedding laid out. “Get some sleep. Believe me, you'll need it.” She rolled over and wrapped the blanket around her.
He pulled his own blanket out of his pack and unfurled it. Despite his exhaustion, the conversation from earlier in the day came back to him.
“I've lived in Lochden my entire life.”
“No, you haven't.”
And then he drifted off into a restless sleep.
—
Amaren's breath misted out in front of him. I'm close. I can smell them.
The scent of his prey filled his nostrils. Smell was an important part in tracking down any quarry. They could hide their footsteps, change their looks, even try to cover their smell up with another fragrance, but it was useless. One could never change their natural scent, and his nose wasn't fooled.
He could track even the most cunning of prey.
Amaren ground his teeth. Damned lord. You'll regret blackmailing me, I swear it.
He jumped from one rock to another, scrambling for purchase on all fours. When he finished killing this whelp he'd go back and kill both of them.
That one, Owen, there was something dark lurking behind his eyes. I'll need to be careful around him. A low growl escaped his throat. No matter. Both of them will suffer my wrath when I'm through here.
His mind wandered back to the prison cell and the white-orb that bathed him in its warm light. Where did they find the Eos? How has it been hidden from me all this time?
The Eos was, quite literally, the last of his civilization. He had been searching for it for over a century and, there it was, in the filthy hands of some corrupt lord.
It belonged to him, and him alone.
Amaren dreamed of the day when he could return to his home and place the Eos back in its rightful place. Banished from his home centuries ago, he had been victim of a curse that would plague him until he found the Eos. His life, his title and his love were taken from him.
All he had left were the wishes of those that he betrayed.
He thought back to the day when his life had changed forever. The sweat soaking his body, pain throughout, blood seeping from his wounds. And then the voices in his head, and the shadows that surrounded him.
“Return the Eos. Return the life that was taken from us. Only then shall you be granted the death you desire. And so, we curse you. Live the life we lost and suffer our pain, our loss, our sorrow, as those around you die while you remain frozen in time. Now go, and do not return until you have fulfilled our wish.”
Memories of the past weighed heavily on his heart. How could he have known the consequences of his actions? They blamed him for it, and yet he had nothing but good intentions. And then, they wouldn't even let him take his own life to atone. They took everything from him.
All but his life. The thing he valued least.
Amaren stopped and sniffed the air. Very soon he would have his revenge. And the first ones to feel his wrath were right in front of him.
He sneered at the cave entrance.
“Sleep, my prey,” he growled. “It will be the last peaceful night of your lives.” Amaren sat cross-legged on a rock and closed his eyes, savoring the smell of his prey.
I have nothing but time.
The wind picked up and a light snow fall dusted his cheeks.
Soon, my love. Soon, I will finally be able to join you.
