by J. M. Topp
She made her way to the castellan’s quarters. A particular visitor had arrived at the docks four hours before, according to Theodric. The visitor was a daemon hunter, and he had an urgent message to give to no one else save for the Commandant of the Veledred.
Theodric walked up beside her, staring into a parchment in silence. ‘Commandant?’
‘What’s his hurry?’ asked Elymiah, forgoing pleasantries. ‘He doesn’t want food or water?’
‘No, Commandant,’ said Theodric. ‘After I vetted him, he insisted on speaking with you immediately. He is one of hundreds of daemon hunters out in the world, but there are very few like him. He would have gone in search of you if I had not ordered him to stay in the castellan’s quarters.’
‘He is Veledred?’
‘Something like that.’ Theodric rubbed his neck. ‘He’s of the Old Breed. It’s best you see for yourself, Commandant.’
‘You make me nervous being as formal as you are. I don’t know if I can take such formalities anymore,’ said Elymiah.
‘I don’t want to make you nervous, Commandant.’ He led her down the stone hall and opened the door to Zignumerand’s old quarters. In the centre stood a man with his arms folded over his chest, but when the man turned, Elymiah’s breath caught in her chest. The creature’s skin was grey, and when he smiled, he bared rows of sharp shark-like teeth. The thing’s eyes glowed yellow, but then he bowed.
‘You must be Elymiah Artus Farnesse,’ said the creature. ‘It is a pleasure to be sure.’
‘Elymiah, allow me to introduce Tiebalt Isynmerys,’ said Theodric, eyeing her expression. ‘He looks just slightly different from you or me because he is a grey shuck.’
‘An old race of creatures, Commandant,’ said Tiebalt. ‘Not daemon as I am accused of so often.’
‘You’re Veledred?’ asked Elymiah.
‘Since I was a youngling.’ Tiebalt stood and held his right hand over his left. ‘Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Commandant.’
‘I hear you have a message for me,’ said Elymiah. ‘What news do you bring?’
‘I do have a message for you, but first I want to know your thoughts. What do you plan on doing once Karagh Muín is restored? I heard about the battle for the mountain hold. Your accomplishments are many in the ears of your Veledred and others beyond Karagh Muín.’
‘There is an epidemic on the land, Tiebalt,’ she said. ‘Weserith was destroyed by daemons, and it is our duty as Veledred to destroy them, but there is an even greater threat.’
‘Oh?’
‘The Harmony of the Apostles.’
Tiebalt’s ear twitched visibly at that, and he sighed. ‘The Harmony is gathering. There are reports of them having been spotted by Whitetree Mills. A creature like a minotaur was seen in Aivaterra, and a large serpent was seen there too.’
‘I was tasked by the Ashen Knight to hunt them and kill them,’ said Elymiah.
Tiebalt glanced at Theodric. ‘I hope these tidings do not come too late. It is with great misfortune that we may have a greater threat than the Harmony. I saw the Archdaemon and his armies moving east. Weserith is on the move.’ The grey shuck cleared his throat. ‘I come from Alder Isle. Baron Wylfesmer has promised to help the Veledred. He has already given aid to Aivaterra to help rebuild the city. The baron requires the commandant to speak with him in person.’
Elymiah winced at the mention of Aivaterra. ‘What of Aivaterra?’ she asked.
‘They burn people every day at the stake,’ said Tiebalt. ‘Alleged conspirators and daemon cultists. They do catch cultists from time to time, but more often than not, they burn innocents in the name of their god Oredmere.’
Elymiah gritted her teeth. ‘The Hallowed Masters.’
Silence settled on the room. The echoing of stone being hammered and brick being laid seeped beneath the door. Tiebalt looked Elymiah over. ‘You are not at all like he is.’
‘I’m sorry?’ she asked, looking up at him.
‘Your brother, Eymeg.’
‘You were with my brother?’
‘I have known your brother since he was a boy. I taught him everything I knew just as your father taught me everything he knew,’ said Tiebalt. ‘I was surprised to learn he had a sister, and now she is the commandant of the Veledred. I do hope you meet him one day.’
‘Where is he?’
‘I left him in Aivaterra, Commandant.’
Elymiah walked over to the desk and pulled out an inkwell and a quill from a drawer.
‘I will meet with Baron Wylfesmer at the end of the year, once Karagh Muín is in better condition,’ she said. ‘As you can tell, I will be indisposed for a few months.’
Tiebalt cleared his throat and winced visibly. ‘I am afraid time is what we do not have, Commandant.’
‘Oh?’
‘If Môr Nardvyk is attacked, Aivaterra cannot give aid. The Isles of Brume, you alongside the new Keeper of the Reef, are the only hope for the Khahadran and Alder Isle.’
‘We don’t have the numbers, Tiebalt. The army of daemons ranges in the tens of thousands.’
‘Maybe not the numbers, but we do have the old runes,’ said Tiebalt.
‘Old runes?’
‘Aye, runes are hidden deep beneath Karagh Muín. They were said to be forgotten, but we of the Old Breed never forget. Therein lies the key.’
Elymiah walked over to the wooden desk. The wood was still pocked where she had driven the blade through Zignumerand’s foot. She could still see Robyn’s face in the dark.
‘Very well. I’ll go,’ she said.
‘You can’t go,’ protested Theodric. ‘You are Commandant. Send me in your stead.’
‘Baron Wylfesmer will not like that at all,’ said Tiebalt, shaking his head.
‘I figured as much.’ Elymiah rubbed her chin. ‘I will go, and that will be final. I will find a way to deal with childbirth.’
Theodric sighed and shook his head.
‘But I will leave Karagh Muín in your hands while I am gone.’
Theodric glanced at her with a brow raised.
‘I am making you my castellan. Are you up for the task?’ asked Elymiah.
Theodric glanced at Tiebalt. The grey shuck raised his hands. ‘Don’t look at me, Castellan. The commandant was speaking to you.’
Theodric clenched his jaw. ‘Of course I am, Commandant.’
‘Good. Together we will make a plan that will simultaneously take the daemon threat, the Archdaemon, and the Harmony. With Baron Wylfesmer’s help, we can achieve all this.’
‘Good,’ said Tiebalt. ‘If you permit me, I will accompany you to Alder Isle.’
‘Granted. Thank you, Tiebalt. You have done the Veledred a good service.’
‘I live to serve the Veledred, Commandant Farnesse. It is good to see your father’s shoes being filled so expertly.’
‘Kind words, friend,’ she said with a smile. ‘The Hall of Uldvarog is being rebuilt, but the kitchens still have gruel on which you can feast to your heart's content.’
‘Thank you, Commandant.’ Tiebalt bowed, gathered his dark green cloak in his arms, and exited the room.
‘You will not find a better fighter, hunter, or spy than Tiebalt. The last grey shuck—or so he would have you believe,’ said Theodric.
A knock at the door made Elymiah’s eyes turn to the guard who poked his steel-helmed head in. He had a bandage low over his brow and sniffed loudly. ‘Someone to see you, Commandant.’
‘Fame has its many prices, Elymiah.’ Theodric chuckled, then sat on the castellan’s desk.
‘So it seems,’ she said. ‘Allow him to enter.’
‘Not he, ma’am,’ said the messenger. Then a woman garbed in a tattered dress entered the room. She had an elegant head of blonde hair, but she had a scar running across the upper corner of her lip, giving her a permanently coy look.
‘Alo ma’am,’ she uttered with the worst curtsy Elymiah had ever seen.
Theodric frowned, and his eyes beca
me slivers in his head. ‘Who are you? And who gave you permission to set foot on our shores—let alone our castle?’
‘I was given permission by one of your own, sir,’ said the woman, holding out a map with markings on it. ‘’Meg gave it to me.’
‘Eymeg,’ said Theodric, taking the map from her hands.
‘I hope to meet this Eymeg soon,’ muttered Elymiah. ‘His name has been tossed around a lot today.’
‘He also gave me this,’ said the woman, producing a six-sided die from her cloak. She held it out to Elymiah, but it was Theodric who took it from her hands.
‘This die belonged to your father,’ said Theodric. ‘Eymeg must really think you’re important to give you this token.’
‘I think he was afraid I would not be let in if I did not have that die,’ said the woman.
‘This Eymeg gets more and more interesting to me every time I hear his name,’ said Elymiah, taking the die from Theodric.
‘Don’t take too much interest,’ he said. ‘Eymeg is not the brightest of the bunch.’
‘I am running from the horde. Weserith is on the move,’ said the woman.
‘So I hear,’ said Elymiah. ‘Where are you from?’
‘I am a child of Duren,’ said the woman. ‘West of Whitetree Mills.’
‘Ah, well, if you are to stay here, you will work for your pay. No one eats for free in this castle. What is your profession?’ Elymiah gazed into the face of the woman.
‘I—I am an entertainer.’ The woman hesitated.
‘Of what kind? Magic tricks?’ asked Elymiah.
‘You could say I deal in some kinds of magic.’ The woman chuckled.
‘So a sorceress?’ asked Elymiah.
‘No, a prostitute,’ said Theodric, rolling his eyes at Elymiah’s lack of understanding.
‘Oh?’ Elymiah’s eyebrow shot up.
‘I am Olavia the Enchantress. The entertainment I deal in is of the flesh.’ Olavia curtsied once more.
Elymiah’s cheeks reddened. ‘I see.’
Theodric frowned and gave a curt grunt. ‘We have no place for a position like that in Karagh Muín, Olavia. Can you cook?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Well, you can hold a broom, can’t you?’
‘I can, I suppose. You’re telling me I won’t be bedded for coin?’
‘Not if you are to stay within these walls for protection,’ said Theodric with thin lips.
‘Are you saying you would want to continue your current profession?’ asked Elymiah.
‘I would,’ said Olavia. ‘You have no idea the pleasure it gives me to give pleasure to men and women.’
Elymiah chewed on her lip as she looked the woman over. She glanced at Theodric, who only returned a shrug. ‘Saltkire Hold might be a better place for you than Karagh Muín, Olavia. I will arrange things with the Keeper of the Reef if that is your desire.’
Theodric’s face reddened, and Olavia bowed. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’
‘For now, you may stay in the servants’ quarters. I would ask that you refrain from interacting with my men. They have a lot to prepare for without the need of distraction from you.’
‘A war is coming, isn’t it, ma’am?’
Elymiah turned her back to the prostitute but nodded. ‘Like the world has never seen before.’
‘I thank you.’ Olavia horridly curtsied for the last time and exited the room, leaving Theodric and Elymiah in private.
‘You’re seriously going to allow her to whore herself?’ asked Theodric, crossing his arms.
‘Olavia is not one of mine. She can do as she pleases with her own body,’ Elymiah said but then winced as a sharp pain bit at her stomach. She paused for a moment. ‘We have a lot to prepare for as well, Theodric. Her profession should be of no concern, as we have bigger matters to attend to. How many acolytes remain?’
‘We have fifty-three acolytes.’
‘How long until they pass their initiate trials?’
‘Three years for the senior ones. We have some intermediates who have minimal experience and new acolytes with no experience against daemons at all. It typically takes their whole lifetimes before they are deemed Veledred. This will take time.’
‘Time is against us. Continue their trials and prepare them as best you can. I will go with a handful of Veledred and a few men of Saltkire Hold. We head to Alder Isle.’
‘Agreed, Elymiah.’
‘Thank you, Theodric. That’s all I will need of you.’
He bowed and left her alone in the castellan’s chambers. Elymiah rounded the large table beside the fireplace and sat down in a chair. Her fingers brushed the oak desk. It was too much. How could she take the place of her father so quickly and still manage to lead the Veledred from this Second Age of Fog? A momentary spasm of panic crossed her mind. She could fail so quickly. She could doom them all.
The whistling of the wind in the windows drew her attention.
Two red eyes shone in the darkness, staring back at her. A black shadow covered the entire window, blacker than the night around it. Elymiah jumped and then let out a sigh. ‘You frightened me.’
The wyvern blinked once. -Sorry.-
‘What are you doing there?’
-Making sure you are fine.-
‘I am, thank you, Dorma.’
-Will I be going with you to Alder Isle?-
‘I wouldn’t leave without you.’
The window fogged up as the wyvern snorted over the glass. -I wouldn’t let you leave without me.-
Elymiah looked down at her stomach.
-What worries you?-
‘Many things.’ She smiled. ‘My son. The war. The Hallowed…’ She didn’t have the strength to finish the sentence.
-The ones that betrayed you.- Dorma snorted.
‘The memories. Sometimes I see him as if he were standing right here before me. I can almost smell him. I can almost touch him.’
-Robyn.-
‘It must be the first time I hear that name that it doesn’t fill me with sorrow.’
-With time, the pain will be easier to bear. The life that grows within you is a better place for your mind to dwell.-
‘You speak like you know what it means.’
-Maybe I do,- thought the wyvern, snorting on the glass again and covering it with his fog.
Elymiah stood up and placed her hand on the glass. ‘Are you fed?’
The wyvern snorted one last time and then let himself fall from the window of the castellan’s chambers, spreading his wings and flying away into the darkening night.
THE SHIPS WISCHARD had given Elymiah had been enough for all her daemon hunters and their war gear. Theodric had graduated another ten acolytes to full-fledged Veledred. At first, Elymiah hadn’t been so sure, but she had confidence in Theodric and his abilities. Now that he was Castellan, the regiment was much more stringent. She knew Karagh Muín was in good hands under his watchful eye. That meant that altogether almost one hundred twelve Veledred and thirty acolytes remained. It wasn’t much, but Elymiah smiled to herself as she recalled Amelinne’s words on the worth of Veledred.
‘And the women, twenty…’ she whispered to herself. Amelinne’s hands had been replaced with Theodric’s bloodrunic prosthetics. Elymiah was grateful to have a man with his talents in service of the Veledred.
Elymiah looked to her belongings that were packed into wooden chests. The majority of them were filled with orders, contracts, and trade agreements already written and awaiting signatures. The time of isolation was over for Karagh Muín. Elymiah intended it to be a safe haven from the terrors of the Second Age of Fog. Olavia, the prostitute woman, had decided not to leave for Saltkire Hold, but instead, she wanted to help more of her countrymen escape Eldervale and the Khahadran. As it turned out, she had a flair for melodrama and written prose, and Elymiah put her to work writing letters to cities, villages, and towns, offering aid and safe haven. Elymiah knew it was a gamble, and letters would have to be followed with precise instructions
, as Oarfish Bay was full of dangers. But at least an armoured kraken was not one of them anymore.
Elymiah picked up one of the scrolls and began to re-read the contents written in black ink.
Lightning flashed outside, and she glanced out the window of her bedchamber. A shadow, outlined by the sudden burst of light in the dawning sky, bobbed up and down in the black waters of the Oarfish Bay.
A lone ship.
Perhaps more refugees?
Elymiah squinted into the reddened morning sky. The darkness was just beginning to wane. The vessel wasn’t a merchant ship, like the Painted Basilisk, but it looked like a warship. Its triple mast with seven large white sails stood out in the grey sea. Another flash of light shot through the sky, illuminating the dark waters and the sigil stitched onto the white canvas. A blue sparrow banner flew over the sails of the ship.
Elymiah’s blood froze in her veins.
Footsteps shuffled hurriedly outside her bedchamber, and a sharp knock at the door caused her to turn her face away from the window. A figure garbed in white calmly stepped into the room. His bald head shone in the light from the fireplace.
Yngerame gave her a short bow.
‘Commandant Farnesse,’ he said. ‘Congratulations on your promotion.’
Elymiah dropped her scroll onto the ground. ‘How did you find me?’ She took a step back from the Hallowed Master.
‘Ah, that was rather easy,’ said Yngerame as two knights garbed in steel armour entered the room, dragging Theodric in. He had a black eye and blood trailing down his mouth and nose. He grunted as the knights let him fall to the ground.
‘What have you done?’ Elymiah clenched her fists. ‘It’s me you’ve come for. Leave my men alone.’
Yngerame laughed and shook his head. ‘I should have sliced your throat before tossing you into the Kingsoul. How did you get out of the Cage of Binding? It must have been a feat of legends, but then again, you come from legendary ilk. Well, mostly legendary.’
A man clad in the green colours of the Veledred stumbled into the room, beaten and bloodied like Theodric, but Elymiah did not recognise him. Yet…
