The road bent away and angled north as it entered the town. Pierum was built upon a slight incline, rising gradually toward the crown of a low rounded hill, upon which rested the castle of Prince Cole of Vicundium.
The farmer’s market was set up on the southern outskirts. Brenyn found an empty stall and paid the manager the necessary brass to reserve it for their produce. Due to the good weather that had followed the spring, every seller at the market was able to lay out a splendid display. Even so, Brenyn and his Gran sold enough to pay for the stall and to earn a bit of brass and silver besides.
Afternoon came and the crowds from town dwindled.
At last, Brenyn looked over at Mirae. “We have done well enough, Gran – shall we go? I could go down to the river and catch us some trout for dinner.”
She looked over the remnant of their wares and nodded. “A bit of trout would be nice, Brennie. Let us gather this up and go.”
Brenyn had put the ox in the traces and was moving the rest of the produce to the wagon when everything around him seemed to grow abruptly dark and he felt a sharp pang in his bones, like a tingling. Though not painful, the sensation was acute, startling. He heard his grandmother suck in a sharp, startled breath.
Mirae was standing a few feet from him, by the stall, and she was stiff, unmoving, gazing out upon the road beyond. Hurndun Blent, the farmer – and a neighbor – that had rented the next stall over, stood near her. Blent’s jaw worked with fear and the tense attitude of his ample frame was one of terror.
From his vantage behind the stall, Brenyn could not see that which held their attention.
He secured the ox’s lead rope to the peg at the back of the stall and then stepped to the side, to see that which had caught his grandmother’s rapt attention. He looked out at the roadway.
A single rider was rounding the corner of the road where it angled toward the main street of the town.
Brenyn froze.
The rider, mounted upon a slender-legged black horse, was also dressed entirely in black. Remarkably thin, he sat tall in the saddle, a trait that was heightened by the presence of a tall, round, flat-brimmed hat that he wore atop his head. A black cloak or cape flowed down around his shoulders and draped his body.
As he rounded the corner of the roadway and rode toward the limits of Pierum, he turned his head and looked at those that were gathered among the stalls of the market, staring at them as he passed by. The tingling sensation in Brenyn’s bones intensified.
That face, beneath the brim of that hat, was ashen-white and long, too long. The eyes were small, round, and black. A closer look revealed that the face was not composed of flesh but of white cloth. The rider wore a mask that draped his face and was tucked into his collar. Brenyn sucked in a breath, for in that moment, he realized that he was looking upon that very thing that Captain Grizeo had described – a darking.
A creature of magic.
Dark magic.
What was a darking doing in Vicundium?
According to Grizeo, the creatures were often seen among the principalities of the south, those distant lands that were heavily populated and ever engaged in war with one another – usually at the behest of creatures such as that which even now rode upon the pavement leading into the town.
Did this dark rider mean to bring war to Vicundium?
When the darking came opposite Brenyn its head abruptly jerked about. The creature did not slow its horse but, as it passed, it gazed with obvious and intense interest directly at Brenyn. For that one long moment Brenyn could see straight into the glittering black eyes that peered out through the holes in the mask.
His heart jumped and his blood cooled.
There was menace in that cold gaze.
Then the darking turned its head, urged its horse onward, and continued on into Pierum, riding up the very center of the main street of the town, between the merchants’ shops and the places of business. And as it went, those folk that were abroad in the street hastened out of its way, hurrying to the walkways along the side and ducking out of sight through open doors.
Brenyn stepped out into the road and watched the creature make its way up through the heart of the town, all the way to the gates of the castle upon the high hill, where it halted.
After a few moments, the castle gates swung open and the darking went through and out of Brenyn’s sight. Brenyn’s blood cooled further, to the consistency of ice.
What dark and dangerous business did a darking have with Prince Cole? – Emi’s father. And – this troubled him most – would that business affect Emi?
Brenyn continued to stand in the roadway for some time but the darking did not reappear. Finally, Mirae came over to him and grasped his arm. “Come, Brennie,” she told him. “Let’s go home. We can discover what that dark creature does here when more is known.”
Brenyn looked at her. “It went into the castle, Gran.”
She nodded, her eyes grave. “I know – but it likely has little to do with the princess. It will have come to see Prince Cole.”
Brenyn let out the breath he had been holding and nodded, albeit hesitantly, worriedly. “Okay, Gran.”
“And let’s forget the fish,” she suggested.
Brenyn considered for a moment, and then turned to finish loading the cart. “No,” he replied. “I will go and catch some fish.”
Later, as evening fell outside and the last rays of the setting sun abandoned the western window, Brenyn looked over at Mirae.
“Does the darking bring war, do you think?” He wondered. “For Captain Grizeo says that wherever they go in the lands of the south, war follows them.”
Mirae sighed. “You would know as much about it as I,” she answered. “But with whom would it incite war? Vicundium has no near neighbors. The nearest is Partha, to the southwest, and that throne is sat by Cole’s own cousin. To the north and east, there are only scattered small communities of hill people. That folk might mount raiding parties, but none of them could field an army.”
Brenyn frowned. “Then why is the darking here?”
Mirae studied her grandson with troubled eyes for a long moment. “What concerns me more, Brennie, is this – why did that creature take such an interest in you?”
Brenyn looked at her sharply. “You saw?” He met her gaze for a long moment and then shrugged. “I do not know.”
She continued to watch him closely. “Emi told me what you did when she fell into the river,” she said. “We have never spoken of it, but you should know that I know.”
Brenyn spread his hands in frustration. “I do not know what I did that day, Gran. Emi fell in; I was frightened for her and went in to pull her out.” He frowned. “The world seemed strange to me for a time when I went in the river to get her. Captain Grizeo asked if I practiced magic.” He shook his head. “Would I not know if I could do magic? For I truly do not know what I did that day.”
Then he frowned in remembrance. “Captain Grizeo told me that my mother could… do things.”
Mirae sighed and looked down at the table. “Argentia was clever and kind,” she said, “but… strange. It was as if she lived in closer harmony with nature, indeed with the earth itself, than with people.” Her features darkened, as if from the influence of a cloud coming between her and the sun, and she reached up and moved a strand of gray hair from her forehead, pushing it behind her ear.
“There would be those,” she said, “who, if they had learned of those small things that your mother could do, would have named her a sorceress.” She shook her head adamantly. “But Argentia was no sorceress. She was a sweet, kind, magical child of nature.”
Mirae’s features kept their dark aspect as she glanced up at Brenyn and then returned her gaze to the tabletop. “Once, when she was with child – with you – before you were born, she told me that, long ago, a great darkness had descended upon the earth and changed things for ill – into what they are now. Her people named this darkness Shadow-wing, or, the winged shadow.”
Once again, Mirae reached up her hand and moved a strand of hair from her forehead, pushing it behind her ear. “Argentia,” she continued, “told me that the Shadow-wing enslaved her people, altering many for ill, and driving many into madness. To escape the madness, she ran away from her village, into the forest – and there your father found her. She loved your father, truly, but she also called him her savior, for he took her away from the east and brought her here, far from the madness afflicting her people.”
She glanced up for a moment and looked down once more. “Your mother was a strange one, Brennie, but she was a daughter to me and a good wife to your father, and she told me often that she was glad that her child would be born free and not into slavery.”
She looked up and met Brenyn’s unsettled gaze. “It may be that she imparted something to you, my son, when she gave up her own life that you might live.” She turned her head and glanced out the window. “The storm that came on that day was a harbinger of something great, something beyond the ken of regular folk – it was something magical, that storm.”
She looked back. “It left something in you, Brennie. I know not what it is, or what it means, but it is there, and you must be careful, I think, to keep it from the sight of others.”
Brenyn watched her for a time and then nodded. “I will, Gran.” Then his frown returned. “Do you think the darking is here because of me?”
She drew in a deep breath of unease. “I do not know,” she admitted. “But if so, then we will find out soon enough, for Captain Grizeo will not leave us unadvised.”
Brenyn considered that and nodded. “Emi will return next week and will know, for the darking went into the castle.”
Mirae’s eyes softened as she gazed upon her grandson. “I know that you love her, Brennie,” she stated quietly. “But beware that your heart be not given to her without recourse, for Emilene is destined to marry another of her own station.”
Brenyn scowled and breathed deep before answering. “I know this, Gran,” he replied. “I know.”
Mirae stood. “I am wearied, Brennie, and must find my bed; I will bid you goodnight.”
Brenyn forced a smile. “Good night, Gran.”
He sat for a time and then made his own way to bed.
Brenyn watched the road diligently the following morning, while he labored in the garden, but by the time the sun had passed through the top of the sky, the darking had not appeared.
Nor did the creature appear for the rest of that day. Brenyn, as he worked at his chores, kept himself in sight of the road, but the darking did not show.
Why did it remain at the castle? He wondered. Was Emi in danger?
Doubts plagued his thoughts and the tension that built up inside him kept him from his noonday meal and his supper as well. He remained outside, for he could not bring himself to abandon the view of the road. While he rambled around outside, finding work, he willed the creature to appear and go along the road to the south, out of sight, never to return.
The sun slid below the world’s edge, night gathered among the hills and hollows. A cool breeze arose and blew from the west.
But the darking did not show.
Finally, as the stars filled up the heavens and the hour grew late, Brenyn, anxious over the creature’s continued presence at the castle, near Emi, at last gave up and went inside.
Mirae looked up as he came in and indicated his supper yet sitting upon the table in the kitchen. “I’ve kept it warm, Brennie. You should eat.”
“Thanks, Gran.”
She stood. “If you are in for the night, my son; then I am going to bed.”
“I am in. Good night, Gran.”
After picking at his food, Brenyn made himself find his bed, but he lay awake deep into the night.
Then, sometime in the small hours, he heard the clopping of a horse’s hooves upon the road outside. He sat up and turned his ear toward the window. It was the sound of a single horse, and it was walking slowly southward.
He might have imagined it, but it seemed as if the animal slowed slightly as it passed by the small house where he and his grandmother lay in their beds, and again as it neared the tree at the bottom of the slope beneath which lay the bones of his mother.
Then, the sound of its movement picked up and faded away to the west.
8.
Brenyn worked like a fiend that week, willing the hours and days to pass away until Emi would come to the bridge once more. Summer was waning, soon it would be harvest, and then autumn would come; the days would grow chill and he would be denied her company for another winter.
At last, one morning, he heard the sound of horses coming from town. He lay his tools aside and hastened to the bridge.
Captain Grizeo, wreathed in smoke, was puffing quietly on his pipe, leaning on the railing and watching Emi, who stood in the field at the edge of the river, which was running quiet and sedate.
Grizeo turned and nodded to Brenyn. “Morning, lad.”
Brenyn saw at once that the captain’s manner was subdued, thoughtful, and decided to broach the subject that was most on his mind without preamble.
“What did the darking want?” He asked.
Grizeo’s face darkened and he shook his head. “I was not privy to the conversation,” he answered, “but the creature spent some time with the prince, hours. Stayed in the castle for more’n a day and t’was deep in the night ere the blaggard left.”
“Is it to be war?” Brenyn wondered.
Grizeo sighed. “I know not, but I know that wherever those dark creatures go, there is war.”
“What about Emi?”
Grizeo frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
“Did the darking threaten her?”
Grizeo managed to smile at Brenyn’s concern. “Nay, lad, you needn’t worry there. Prince Cole sent her away at once when that darking showed up. I stood outside her room myself until it left.”
“You do not know why it came?” Brenyn persisted.
“Nay, lad, I do not.” Grizeo removed his pipe from his mouth and pointed out at the field with the stem. “I know nothing, Brenyn, so don’t waste the morning jawing with me. Go and see her.”
“Thank you, captain.”
Brenyn hastened up through the field until he came near Emi, who was watching the clear water of Small River gurgle past her. She was standing on the very spot where she had fallen into the flood back in the spring, and he grimaced to himself, wondering if she would broach the subject once more.
She turned, gave him a slight smile, and asked. “Do I look different, Brenyn?”
He frowned. “Why?”
“I am fourteen, now,” she replied, “and Cassia said that I look different.”
“Who is Cassia?”
“A girl from town.” She turned to face him. “You will not lie to me, Brenyn, I know. Do I look different?”
To please her, he stepped back and studied her with a frown of seriousness upon his face. Then he nodded. “You are a bit taller, Emi,” he said. “And a lot prettier.”
Though she blushed with pleasure at this assessment, she nonetheless tilted her head and frowned. “I was not seeking to be flattered,” she said.
Brenyn shook his head. “No flattery, Emi – you are truly a beautiful girl.” He frowned back at her. “You do, however, seem to be of a more serious bent than usual.”
She looked away. After a moment, she nodded. “A strange-looking man came,” she said. “He spoke with my father.”
“I know,” he replied. “I saw the darking on the road when it entered Pierum.”
She nodded again. “A darking – that’s what Captain Grizeo named it.” She looked at him then, her eyes dark with anxiousness. “What would such a creature want with my father?”
Unsure of how much Captain Grizeo had told her, Brenyn nevertheless decided that she had a right to all that was known of the creatures, scant though it was.
“Darkings are known to incite war,” he told her. “Wherever they go, app
arently, war between realms follows.”
“Why? What are they gained by war?” Emi wondered.
Brenyn shook his head. “I do not know enough to answer that question. I think that Captain Grizeo does not know, either.”
She looked around her, at the hilly, forested horizons. “With whom would we go to war? My father’s cousin sits upon the throne of our nearest neighbor.” She shook her head. “My father would not go to war with him even if he were an enemy and not a cousin, for my father is a peaceful man.”
“I know,” Brenyn agreed. “Mayhap the darking was simply a scout, looking for another principality to plunder.”
Her eyes darkened with concern. “But if war comes?”
“Captain Grizeo and I – and many others – will protect you and your father, Emi,” Brenyn said.
She shook her head. “I don’t want war to come here.”
“No,” he replied. “Nor does anyone.”
It was then that he noticed her dress, a dark blue frock with a fringe of lace.
“You have a new dress.”
She smiled then, and curtsied. “You were right about one thing, Brenyn Vagus,” she said with a smile. “I have grown taller.”
He grinned. “And prettier.”
She wagged her finger at him. “I am yet not old enough to marry you,” she told him.
Brenyn managed to keep the smile fixed upon his face but made no answer.
She looked toward the river and began removing her shoes. “Let’s look for pretty stones,” she suggested.
“But what about your new dress?”
She sighed with exasperation. “I mean to wade, not swim, Brenyn.”
He nodded, still grinning. “Alright.”
The morning passed in that pleasant manner and no further mention was made of the sinister visitor to the castle.
For the remainder of that summer, Emi came to see Brenyn faithfully, and their friendship continued to grow. It had become a more serious thing for each of them, something deeper, that existed but was not acted upon in any way other than companionship.
A Plague of Ruin: Book One: Son of Two Bloods Page 7
