Fortress of Radiance

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  It was a reasonable enough request and at the same time served Karus’s interests. If they could find Shoega’s army, then he would have some idea how close the Horde had gotten to Carthum. He would know how much time he had before he was forced to quit the city. The more Karus thought on the idea, the more he warmed to it.

  “I will need to speak with the dragons about that,” Karus said. “I can tell you they saw what I think is your army a few days ago. It was being pursued by the enemy. If we can, we will get you back to them.”

  Dennig fell silent at that, but gave a satisfied nod of his head.

  A little frustrated at his traveling companions, Karus sucked in a breath and looked over at Amarra. She offered him a weary smile as she stepped nearer. Her proximity filled him with a warm glow that cheered against the weariness and exhaustion.

  “Hungry?” he asked her.

  “And tired,” Amarra said to him in Latin, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. “I very tired.”

  “We eat first, then make camp,” Karus said to everyone. He bent down and retrieved another bundle of cheese and bread from the pack. He handed these over to Amarra and then grabbed some bread for himself.

  “Thanks,” Amarra said. “We eat together, yes?”

  “Together,” Karus said and retrieved a wedge of cheese for himself.

  Amarra led him over to where Cyln’phax’s bulk had flattened the grass. She sat down and patted the ground next to her. Karus found the ground still warm from the dragon’s body heat. She leaned against him as she unwrapped her cheese. She sniffed at the wedge before taking a small nibble.

  Karus sucked in a deep breath through his nose. He could smell the strong scent of the forest a few yards off. With Amarra by his side, and his daily responsibilities with the legion miles away, Karus suddenly and absurdly felt as if everything was as near perfect as could be. And this despite his disagreeable and cantankerous traveling companions.

  Amarra was here, with him. That seemed to make everything just a little bit better, more bearable. Then, his eye snagged on the fortress upon the crest of the hill, and a sense of foreboding washed over him. His gaze moved from the hill toward his traveling companions, who were doing their best not to look at one another. He let out an unhappy breath.

  “They act like spoiled children,” Karus said.

  “My children,” Amarra said, following his gaze. “They mine.”

  Karus looked over at her in question.

  “I High Priestess,” Amarra said. “They mine flock, spoiled or not. I teach them to grow and love our god.”

  Karus felt himself scowl a little at that. None of the other three were sitting together. It was as if they did not want to associate, except Tal’Thor, who had eyes only for Si’Cara. He glanced her way whenever he thought she was not looking. And when she looked his way, he averted his gaze.

  “You enjoy,” Amarra said, patting his thigh and drawing his attention back to her. “Like moment, you and I. We together … enjoy. Worry later, yes?”

  “As you wish, mistress,” Karus said, mimicking the dragons. “Your desire is my command.”

  She sat up and slapped him lightly on the arm before pointing a finger at him. “I am love of your life, not mistress. Understand?”

  “I think you might be,” Karus said to her.

  Amarra giggled and smacked him again. “Think? You think? I find shocking.”

  Grinning, he pulled her to him and kissed her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Karus wrapped the small brush up in the oil-stained towel he used for cleaning and returned both to his pack, stowing them away. He looked over his armor once again with a critical eye and was thoroughly satisfied with his work. It had needed some serious attention and was now free of dirt, debris, and grit, just how he preferred it. There was not even a hint of rust—a legionary’s worst enemy.

  Amarra, Si’Cara, Tal’Thor, and Dennig sat around the fire. They were finishing up their breakfast, which consisted of bread, cheese, and some sort of sweet tea the elves had made from a flower. Si’Cara said it came from a plant that grew up in the trees, which sounded remarkable to Karus. How could a plant grow without roots and soil? Though Karus preferred heated wine, the tea had been a warm and welcome surprise.

  The night had been chilly, bordering on frigid. In the shadow of both the fortress and the forest, Karus was feeling somewhat unsettled. He had long since learned to trust his gut, and it told him danger was near. The elves, on the other hand, were quite certain they were safe, that nothing would trouble them in their camp. Karus had decided that, regardless, a watch would be set. He could feel it in his bones. Something just wasn’t right. Whether it was out in the forest or up on the hill, he did not know.

  Once his decision had been made, no one argued, which had been a relief. Dennig must have felt as he did, for the dwarf heartily embraced the idea of posting a sentry. So, Karus had set the example and taken first watch, while the others turned in. He had remained awake, listening to the sounds of the forest and occasionally taking a walk just beyond the firelight.

  The night had worn on. Several hours later, Tal’Thor had relieved him for the second watch. They had not exchanged any words, just a soundless nod. Dennig had volunteered to stand the last watch, which would see the coming of dawn. Karus had moved back to the fire, past the softly snoring dwarf, and over to Amarra, careful not to make any undue noise as he settled down next to her.

  Sleeping on the ground was always an uncomfortable prospect. However, Karus had long since become accustomed to it. They shared their blankets and his cloak. Between the fire and Amarra snuggling close against him, he had been warm enough. The warmth of her body pressing against his had been quite pleasant, enough so that he’d slept pretty soundly.

  Karus rubbed his jaw. Looking up at the fortress, he felt the weight of his duty press upon him. He had never expected to command the legion, to effectively step into the legate’s sandals when Julionus had died and Saturninus had cowardly fled.

  Duty had been thrust upon him and there it would stay. He was unwilling to pass on the responsibility that was his and his alone. To do so would have been wrong, a betrayal of the trust placed in him as camp prefect. The trust came not from the late Julionus, but directly from the emperor and the measure of imperium that had been placed in his hands. Jupiter had blessed him as well, which meant Karus would soldier on no matter what difficulties he encountered. So, there could be no thought of passing along the burden of command. Upon his shoulders rested the world, and Karus could feel every pound.

  Karus swept his gaze around their camp. Si’Cara was sitting across the fire, talking quietly with Amarra. The two women were deep in conversation and were speaking low enough that Karus could not overhear what was said. He suspected they were discussing scripture and faith. Sleep seemed to have been a curative for Si’Cara. She appeared much improved from her ordeal. Her eyes were brighter and her posture straighter.

  Tal’Thor, on the other hand, if Karus was any judge, may have been damaged by the experience of what had happened with the warden, perhaps scarred even. He was sitting off to Karus’s left, eating listlessly, and had not said a word since they had risen. Had he been human, Karus would have described the elf as downright depressed. Karus noticed the ranger’s gaze occasionally flick toward Si’Cara before quickly shifting away when she glanced or turned her head in his direction.

  Dennig was sitting off by himself, eating his second helping of cheese for breakfast. A half loaf of bread rested upon his thigh. He also seemed much improved. He was entirely wrapped up in his breakfast and fastidiously ignoring everyone else. At least, he was pretending. Karus had caught the dwarf covertly studying his traveling companions. Despite his gruff and cantankerous manner, Karus sensed a shrewdness concealed behind the wild beard. Dennig was beginning to grow on Karus. The dwarf was blunt and to the point. He most always said what was on his mind. Karus found that refreshing. Perhaps it was also that the dwarf was an old s
oldier like himself?

  It was time to move things along. The fortress waited just up the hill and Karus desired to get moving. He began putting his armor on. With expert skill honed over a lifetime of service, he rapidly laced it up and then tied the ends off, making sure the knots were secure. He shrugged his shoulders about until the armor was where he was accustomed to having it and the fit was good, comfortable.

  He picked up his sword, slipped the strap on over his shoulder, and settled it into position at his side. He carefully unfolded his cloak and shook it out. He had spent time cleaning and brushing it, at least as best he could while in the field. The ends of the cloak were frayed and ragged. There were also a number of rips where the cloak had caught on something and torn. Then there were about a dozen small holes and tears, as if moths had feasted on the cloak.

  He had no idea where the holes had come from but figured it was entirely possible that they had been caused in battle. Perhaps he had gotten them during the legion’s fighting retreat as they pulled back from the Celts in Britannia and fatefully went up that hill. It had gotten frisky and Karus had been in the thick of it. An enemy’s weapon could have easily caused the damage. Sadly, it would soon need replacing. He swung the cloak around and clipped it securely in place.

  Picking up on his cue, Si’Cara began packing away her food and the few personal items she had removed from her pack. This included the small pot with which she had made the tea. Tal’Thor followed her lead, gathering up his things as well. Dennig continued eating, loudly smacking his lips with gusto after finishing off his cheese.

  Sucking in a deep breath of the cool morning air through his nose, Karus looked skyward, searching. There was no sign of the dragons. He had not really expected to see them, but still he found himself looking. The first rays of the day’s light had reached the fortress, lighting up the outer defensive wall with a fiery hue of orange that was a harsh contrast to the darkened terrain of the hill just below it.

  Though the fortress was an impressive fortification, it was on the smaller side and was certainly not the strongest Karus had ever seen. From this distance, he could see nothing radiant about it, other than the sunlight striking the ivy-covered wall. Not for the first time did he wonder how it had gotten its name.

  “Is time to go, I think,” Amarra said to Karus in Latin from across the fire. She patted Si’Cara’s thigh and stood. Si’Cara had finished tying her pack closed and came to her feet as well.

  “Si’Cara,” Karus said. The troubling thought on his mind needed to be voiced. “Before we left, your father told me that the fortress is no longer what it once was. He said it had been corrupted.”

  She looked over at him, brows knitting together, before she glanced up the hill uncertainly. Her reaction seemed natural enough. It told him what he needed to know. She was ignorant of any danger or whatever Di’Cara had meant by “corruption.” Her father had kept this knowledge from her.

  “That cannot be,” Si’Cara said. “My brother is up there.”

  “Di’Cara said that the warriors would not welcome us,” Karus said.

  “That cannot be,” Si’Cara repeated, then chewed her lip. She appeared frightened by the possibility something had happened to her brother. “Long have I dreamed of this day, when I would be reunited with Kol. You must have misunderstood him.”

  “He did not misunderstand,” Tal’Thor said. “I too have heard such rumors and reports supporting your father’s suspicions. There is something wrong in the fortress. We just don’t know what.”

  Si’Cara’s look became frosty. “And you said nothing?”

  “I said nothing”—Tal’Thor cleared his throat—“for you. I could not bear—”

  “For me?” Si’Cara’s face darkened like a thunderstorm. “You withheld this from me?”

  “Kol’Cara is your only brother. I did it to spare you—”

  Si’Cara cut him off, speaking heatedly in Elven, clearly incensed, and pointing an accusing finger at him. Tal’Thor snapped something back when she stopped long enough to catch a breath. Her cheeks flushed with anger and her eyes flashed at his retort. She replied, her voice shaking with rage. Tal’Thor paled and glanced away, clearly shaken.

  “If I did not know better …” Dennig said, pulling himself to his feet. He tossed the last of his bread into the fire. “They fight like a married couple.”

  “You have the right of it, dwarf,” Si’Cara snapped, her voice shaking with anger. “This sorry excuse for a”—she said an Elven word—“is my husband.”

  “See, I called it!” Dennig slapped his thigh in pleased amusement, looking over at Karus. “From personal experience, only love can bring someone to such a hot rage.”

  Karus shared a brief glance with Amarra before turning his attention back to Si’Cara. This certainly was not welcome news. That the two were married only complicated things further and made the warden’s order to Tal’Thor just that much baser and crueler. He had no idea how Tal’Thor could have ever carried out the warden’s order. It seemed to speak of a fanatical devotion and for a moment reminded him of the cruelties he’d seen the hated druids inflict upon their own people back in Britannia.

  “We need to be on our guard,” Tal’Thor said. “I do not know what we will find up there, or even if the Warriors of Anagradoom still live. But something has clearly happened, and not for the better.”

  Si’Cara turned her gaze toward the fortress. She brought a hand to her mouth, a profound look of sorrow on her lovely face.

  “Well, there is no sense in delaying things anymore. Daylight’s burning,” Karus said. The first of the suns was now visible, poking above the trees.

  Amarra retrieved her staff from where she had laid it on the ground. Tal’Thor grabbed his bow. He pulled the bowstring from a pocket and quickly strung it, tested the pull, and then, seemingly satisfied, slung it over a shoulder. He bent down and picked up his bundle of arrows.

  Si’Cara hesitated a moment more, scrutinizing the fortress, then picked up her bow and a bundle of tied arrows. Karus noted that several of her arrows, which poked out of the bundle, had brightly colored fletching—blue, red, green, and black.

  Dennig leaned toward the fire, which was beginning to die down. He held his hands out and rubbed them together for warmth. Then he began kicking dirt on it, rapidly extinguishing the blaze.

  “Where do you think you are going?” Karus asked him, surprised. He had expected the dwarf to stay behind.

  “Why, with you, of course,” Dennig said, as if it were obvious, and kicked more dirt on the fire. The fire hissed loudly as it met with moisture in the freshly dug soil.

  “You may not have been listening,” Karus said. “It could be dangerous up there.”

  “I was,” Dennig said, snuffing out the last of the flames with dirt. “And I am coming.”

  “There is no need for you to go,” Karus said. “You can remain here if you wish.”

  “And if the dragons return?” Dennig asked, bushy eyebrows raised. “Who’s to stop them from making a snack out of me? No thank you. I am coming along for the hike up that there hill.”

  Karus almost laughed, at first thinking the dwarf had made a joke. But he seemed wholly serious.

  “I don’t think they’re going to eat you,” Amarra said.

  “I’m not prepared to take that chance,” Dennig said firmly. “I’m going with you and that’s my last word on it.”

  “Fine. You can come along.” Karus decided it was not worth arguing. If Dennig desired to brave whatever dangers were up there … well, that was his business. Karus turned and pointed up the hill for everyone to see. “There appears to be some sort of a path or track. See it there? I suggest we take it as opposed to fighting our way through the grass and brush.”

  “That was a paved road, once,” Si’Cara said. “I remember it well. It should still be the best way up.”

  Karus figured it had been a good long while since anyone cared for the road, because what he saw now seemed no
better than a goat trail, and that was being generous.

  “Right … everyone ready?” Karus glanced around. No one objected. “Let’s go then.”

  He started out leading, with Amarra keeping pace with him. They worked their way through the long grass toward the path. Some of the low-lying scrub bushes were thick with thorns and had to be avoided or carefully traversed.

  As he reached the path, Karus could see a handful of worn stones poking up at odd angles or partially sunk into the ground. These had likely been the paving stones. He followed the path with his eyes up to the fortress. Switching back and forth, it led a meandering route up the steep hill. He looked toward the forest. The path seemed to have once gone into the trees, but now it ended at the tree line. A giant of a tree grew where the road should have continued. Time, it seemed, had been a hard mistress.

  Karus began climbing. Following the path up the hill was not as easy as it had appeared from their camp. The path had seriously deteriorated, at points proving to be nearly impassable without some scrambling. Karus figured a mountain goat would have had difficulty negotiating parts of the trail.

  The path was washed away in places from runoff or was badly rutted with an abundance of loose stones. They moved slowly, carefully working their way up the path. Karus found himself focusing intently on where he placed his feet, for fear of turning an ankle.

  Si’Cara and Tal’Thor soon moved by him, taking the lead. The elves set a fast pace. Karus consoled himself with the fact that he was wearing armor and they were not. The way up would undoubtedly be easier for the rangers.

  They climbed in silence for a time, Si’Cara ranging ten yards ahead with Tal’Thor a few paces behind her. Only occasionally did anyone pause or stop to point something out or caution where loose rocks or large stones were a particular hazard.