A Plague of Ruin: Book One: Son of Two Bloods

by Daniel Hylton

  Assuaging his hunger gave him strength and lightened his mood. Tomorrow, he thought, he would gain the main road and set out again upon the trail of the darkings that had taken Emi. Soon, they would pay the price for their treachery and she would be with him again.

  Leaning back against the grassy bank, he slept.

  16.

  He was on the road before sunup, moving through yet more farmland. By mid-day, he came to a larger town, where the road he traveled intersected with another route running north and south. It was likely the same road that Brenyn had traveled to the burning bridge on the north bank of the Irgon, but he had to be certain.

  Finding a merchant standing upon the walkway outside his establishment, Brenyn asked him, “Is this the road that goes to the bridge over the Irgon?”

  The merchant’s gaze narrowed with suspicion. “Why do you want to know?” His eyes roved over Brenyn’s clothes and his weaponry. “Are you from Farum?”

  “No,” Brenyn replied in harsh tones, irritated by the man’s tone. “I am from Vicundium, a land in the north. I am following two darkings – a darking lord and another driving a two-wheeled cart. Have they come along this road?”

  At that, the man’s manner changed, and his eyes widened. “Why do you follow darkings?”

  “I mean to slay them. Did they pass along this road?”

  Despite the man’s obvious astonishment at this declaration, he nodded. “Most of a week gone,” he told Brenyn. “Like you say, one was a lord. How will you slay a darking lord – or any darking?”

  Brenyn ignored that. “They went south?”

  “Yes.”

  Brenyn studied the man closely. “How much do you know of darkings?”

  “Know? – nothing.” The man stared up at him. “Who knows anything of darkings?”

  “Where do they dwell?” Brenyn asked.

  “Dwell? They dwell nowhere.”

  “Everyone dwells somewhere,” Brenyn insisted. “Where is their fortress?”

  The merchant’s gaze narrowed once more. “Apparently, you know nothing of them,” he said. “Darkings come and go. They urge princes to war with one another; and then they go away. They dwell in no place that anyone knows.”

  Brenyn frowned without comprehension. “Whence do they come? – for surely they do not simply arise from the earth?”

  The merchant shook his head. “No one knows whence they come. They simply come.” His gaze hardened. “They are creatures of magic – potent, dark magic. Mayhap they do arise from the earth – who can say? I cannot – can you?”

  Brenyn felt the surge of frustration that is born of dread. “Is there no place where darkings may be found with certainty?”

  “If there be such a place,” the man answered. “I know it not.”

  Brenyn drew in a deep calming breath. “They went south along this road, the darking lord and his servant? – you saw them?”

  The merchant nodded. “Perhaps one day less than a week gone.”

  Brenyn glanced behind the man at his place of business. “Do you sell foodstuffs here?”

  “I can supply most needs,” the man replied.

  “I am in a great hurry,” Brenyn stated.

  The man put his broom aside. “You had best come right in, then.”

  Brenyn tied Noris to the railing and followed the man inside where he purchased dried meats and bread, and a small bag of dry beans. Then he hurried out and mounted up.

  Leaving the market, Brenyn turned southward through the town and out onto the prairie beyond. Doubts, dark and troubling, swirled through his mind, blackening his spirit. His plan of finding a “home”, a fortress where darkings gathered, were dispelled if the merchant in the town behind him spoke the truth.

  How would he then find Emi?

  He began to comprehend that his quest was now reduced to hoping that he could find someone that had seen the two darkings that had taken Emi at every point where they had passed. There was a horrible truth bound in this fact – if he ever reached a point where they had vanished from view, then Emi was lost to him.

  And that truth terrified him.

  The possibility of losing all hope of finding her compressed the chambers of his heart, darkened his mind, and threatened to drive him mad.

  With a great effort, he put these doubts away from him and urged Noris into a faster pace.

  Ahead, the plains ended, and hills tumbled up, darkened by a covering of trees. Over to the east, the hills rose higher until they became mountains. That way, eastward, upon his left as he rode southward, the mountains jutted into the sky, gray and massive. Ahead, the hills encompassed the whole of the horizon, from east to west, forested and dark. He passed through a small village and then the road began to climb.

  The forest began at the very edge of the plains, thick and dark and tall, mostly hardwoods, with a few scattered evergreens that were spread among the oaks and elms. The sun disappeared above the canopy, but the roadway, broad and smooth and ancient, constructed of stones laid down in another age of the earth, kept on, winding up and into the higher ground. Night caught him here, among the trees of this primeval forest.

  There was a strip of tall grass alongside the pavement, and Brenyn let Noris graze for a time before leaving the roadway for the depths of the forest and finding a small clearing where he could pass the night. A spring bubbled up nearby and there was a rise in the ground that would hide the glow of a flame from the road, so he picketed Noris near the water, and started a fire.

  Lying back against a fallen log, Brenyn stared up at the stars and fought another battle inside his heart and his mind against the rising sense of horror and hopelessness that had taken root inside him. The farther he traveled in the great unknown world, the more he heard of darkings, the more he witnessed of the endless wars raging across all lands, the less hope he held of rescuing Emi.

  At the last, fatigue won out, shutting down his mind and the multitude of dark thoughts that germinated therein, and quieting his heart. He slept.

  Brenyn awakened in the wee hours. The forest about him was silent and dark. Noris slumbered, standing over by the brook. He glanced eastward. The sky there was yet black with no hint of the coming day.

  Needing a distraction from the black thoughts that at once began intruding into his mind, he cast about for something to make the hours pass more quickly. Recalling the fact that he had never once attempted to wield his father’s sword, he slipped the scabbard over his shoulder and drew the blade, hefting it in his hand.

  Though he had never wielded a sword, or even seen one put to its intended use, it seemed to him at once that it was a simple tool and possessed two basic purposes. It could be employed to defend against the thrust of other weapons, but most importantly, if one maneuvered close enough to his foe, all that was needed was to drive the lethal end of the blade into something vital.

  Brenyn swung the blade back and forth several times and twirled it about just to grow used to the feel of it in his hand. Then he sheathed it once more and glanced at the eastern sky.

  There was strip of brightness now, along that far horizon, just visible through the trunks of the trees. Morning approached. Over by the brook, Noris snorted and began to rouse himself. Brenyn ate a breakfast of hard bread and then, as the morning grew lighter, he saddled Noris and they went back to the road. Here, Brenyn gave Noris a few minutes to graze and then he mounted up and they went on southward, into the hills.

  Brenyn set as brisk a pace as he dared, for the road, though not steep, nonetheless climbed as it wound up into the hills. Two hours after sunrise, they came to where the road leveled out and ran fairly level across a sort of wooded but rocky plateau. The trees yet grew here, but were farther apart, as if they not only competed for space but for nutrients from the stony soil. Coming to a small meadow, where the trees thinned and clumps of grasses grew by a stream, he let Noris eat and drink and then they moved on again.

  A few hours later, just before mid-day, that which he had dread
ed and feared for many days came to pass.

  The trees failed and the road went out along a brush and grass-covered flat-topped ridge and then descended onto another, lower plateau. On his right, to the west, the forested high ground bent around toward the south and went on for some distance. East, to his left, the region of brushy, grassy plateau extended toward the distant mountains that reared up perhaps fifty miles away.

  To his front, but on his left, to the east of where he sat upon Noris, the landscape descended into a broad valley.

  This wide, darkly green vale, delved between high hills on the east and the heights of the plateau on the west, stretched away toward the south and broadened out as it went. There were a few scattered farms visible in that valley and one distant, tiny hamlet.

  But right here, where Brenyn now sat upon his motionless mount, there was a major crossroads.

  And there was nothing in sight, anywhere, to suggest where the darkings – or, indeed, any traveler, might have gone from this junction. There was no settlement nearby, no signs of a town or village – indeed, there were no buildings at all, only the jumbled remains of an ancient ruin that might have once been a fortress, long ago. There were no signs of human habitation, no one that might answer his query – had they seen the darkings pass by here? – just two broad, well-built, ancient roadways made of stone that crossed over one another in the midst of the wilderness.

  With his heart dropping like a stone in his breast, Brenyn looked eastward, where the road ran toward the mountains. Along that broad stretch of road, there was not a thing in sight, no villages, or farms, for as far as he could see.

  Far off, it appeared as if the road found a pass between the mountains, for there was wedge of blue sky, leagues away. Closer at hand, there was only brush, rocks, and a few small juniper trees that accompanied that highway as it went toward the unknown. If the darkings had gone east, their destination was far off, indeed.

  Pivoting, he looked toward the west. There the road curved gradually around toward the south as it ran below the extent of the rocky high ground and went from view down along a broad plateau that disappeared behind the intervening hills.

  He looked to his front, south, where the road descended into the broad valley between the plateau on his right and the foothills of the mountains on his left. – the only direction where there were any signs of human activity.

  But even down in that valley, there was little that gave him much hope. The road descended upon the west side of the valley in a gradual manner, not reaching the valley floor for some miles. No farms were situated near that thoroughfare until it progressed far down the valley, and they were few and scattered. The distant hamlet that Brenyn could see was small indeed, a tiny cluster of buildings, and it was also far away, off down that wide vale.

  For several long moments, Brenyn sat unmoving on Noris, transfixed with the horror of his predicament.

  Which way should he go?

  Where had the darkings gone? East? West? South?

  Where – into all the wide world – had they taken Emi?

  In that moment, the dread that had been building in his soul erupted in its fullness and his heart cried out – Where are you, Emi?

  The sudden sound of a voice – sharp, pain-filled, saturated with anguish, startled him.

  Brenyn jumped and looked around – and then, in that same instant, realized that it was his own voice.

  His tongue, of its own accord, had given voice to the terror that had flooded the deep places of his heart.

  Bowing his head, slumping in the saddle, he wept.

  For a time then, the world went utterly dark, as black as the recesses of his mind, while the pain of terrible, soul-destroying loss overwhelmed him, and above him dark clouds swallowed the sun.

  How long Brenyn sat there, lost in the horror of being forced to consider the realization that Emi was likely lost to him forever, he knew not, but at last, he stirred himself and forced a tiny hope to flicker to life once more.

  He reminded himself that everyone that he had met thus far had expressed surprise at seeing a darking lord. Therefore, it stood to reason that wherever the darking lord and his servant with the strange cart had gone, someone had taken notice.

  He need only go along each of the three roads until he either found someone that had seen them; or became convinced that they had taken another route. Wiping his eyes, Brenyn decided to try the most obvious direction first – the valley to his front.

  Urging Noris forward and into a trot, he went down along the side of the valley until, a few miles on, the road went out onto the valley floor. There were no farms near the road here, and those that he could see, off to his left in the valley, were separated from him by a river. Ahead, however, another mile further on, there was a small cluster of buildings.

  The cluster of buildings comprised a tiny hamlet of perhaps twenty structures, a market, a granary and a few scattered houses. One old woman sat in front of the market, watching Brenyn come. Two huge gray-haired dogs lay near her, growling low.

  Brenyn halted and dismounted, inclining his head to her.

  “Good day, madam,” he greeted her. “I am following two darkings that may have traveled this road. Have you seen them?”

  The woman drew in a sharp breath and glanced both ways along the road with suddenly widened eyes.

  “Darkings? There are darkings upon the road?” She stood abruptly and made to enter the market. The dogs rose with her.

  Brenyn held out his hand. “Please, wait – I do not know if they came here. I have followed them out of the north. They would have passed this way sometime in the last week.”

  She hesitated, still looking each way along the roadway, and then cautiously met Brenyn’s gaze. “They are coming here?”

  He shook his head. “I do not know. I am asking if you have seen two darkings pass along this road.”

  “Nay,” she answered. “I have not looked upon a darking in many years. Him that I saw was in the east, in the land of Magnus. The darking came, war followed, and then I moved away to this place, far from the madness and the death.” She shook her head. “I have not seen a darking since that time.”

  “You have seen none upon this road?”

  “I have not,” she replied.

  “Do you sit here often?”

  “Everyday. I sit here every day. This is my market.”

  Brenyn looked around. “This seems a lonely place. Whence does your business come?”

  “Why do you ask?” She countered.

  Brenyn shrugged. “I care not. And if you have not seen the darkings, I will trouble you no more.” He turned away to mount up.

  “Who are you?” She asked. “Why do you follow darkings?”

  Brenyn looked back. “They took something that is precious to me – that I mean to recover.”

  She studied him, noting his weaponry and his stern bearing. “Are you a soldier? To whom do you owe allegiance?”

  Brenyn shook his head. “None. I owe allegiance to none but myself and my quest.”

  “Are you a mercenary?” She persisted.

  “I am myself, and nothing more.”

  Her gaze narrowed while she studied him. After another moment, she said, “You should go and see Captain Johan Murlet.”

  “Who is he?” Brenyn asked. “Why should I go and see him?”

  She raised one hand over her shoulder, her finger extended, pointing toward the east. “He governs a town over against the base of the hills. I keep things in store for him and his… folk. There are a few farms about that need my goods, but not much else. Captain Murlet and his folk are the main reason that I am here.”

  Brenyn frowned. “Of what is he a captain? Mercenaries?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “And he is ever in need of good men.”

  Brenyn shook his head. “I must catch the darkings up.” He studied her closely. “Would you have known if two darkings had passed along this road?”

  She nodd
ed. “I see everything that comes this way.”

  “Even at night?”

  Once more, she nodded. “My dogs, Savang and Groll, sleep before my door every night. Should anyone pass by, they awaken me.”

  “Thank you,” Brenyn said. He turned and looked eastward, across the valley. “Where is this mercenary town?”

  The woman examined him once more, and then she pointed southward, along the roadway. “There is a path that goes toward the mountains perhaps a mile or so down there. Ford the river and keep straight on. The town sits in the edge of the forest. You will need to apply to Captain Murlet for entry.”

  Brenyn smiled. “Thank you, madam, but I was curious only. I must first find the darkings.”

  She watched him for a moment and then slowly shook her head. “Darkings are creatures of magic, ancient and wicked beings of power. If they have taken something, it cannot be recovered.”

  “Perhaps,” Brenyn agreed. “Nevertheless, I must try.”

  She shook her head. “They have not passed this way.”

  Brenyn bowed his head in gratitude. “Then I will go and look elsewhere,” he said.

  “Should you change your mind and decide to return, Captain Murlet always needs men,” she said. “He is an honest man, and he pays well. You may tell him that Marta sent you.”

  “You are Marta?” Brenyn asked.

  “I am.”

  “How well do you know this Captain Murlet?”

  Marta smiled. “He is my son.”

  Brenyn looked eastward. “Perhaps another time,” he said. “Now, I must find the darkings.”

  Marta studied him for a moment. “This something – or someone – that they have taken from you must be precious indeed.”