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

by Daniel Hylton

  “Alright,” said Murlet, looking around the room. “Then go now and prepare to depart, for we must leave at once, this very day. The enemies of Merkland march toward its borders even now.”

  The sun had slipped through the apex of the sky and was wheeling west when the troop crossed the valley, forded the river, gained the road, and turned south, moving quickly. Three days later, late in the morning, just before mid-day, they approached the gates of Marius. The plains before the city were covered with men, wagons, and tents.

  Murlet ordered the band to halt and wait while he, Kristo, Beran, and Brenyn went to seek out an officer and report. There was a group of mounted officers near the walls of the city and they went in that direction. As they drew closer, they could see that one of them was no officer – he was the prince of Merkland, Taumus himself. Taumus saw them come and separated himself from the group. Coming up to them, he raised his hand in greeting.

  “Welcome, captain,” he said. “Welcome, Brenyn.”

  Without waiting for a response, he looked at Brenyn. “Have you learned the secret to your powers?” He asked bluntly.

  “I only know that they exist,” Brenyn answered.

  Taumus studied him for a long moment and then inclined his head. “Let us hope it will suffice.”

  Murlet frowned at the tenor of this statement. “Forgive me, Your Highness – but why do you say this?”

  Taumus kept his gaze fixed on Brenyn as he replied. “The darkings wish me gone,” he said. “For I have sought peace with all my neighbors – and would have achieved that peace, were it not for the pressure exerted upon those neighbors by the dark creatures. I doubt not that the darkings will watch this war closely, for they do not tolerate resistance. Indeed, I doubt not that one of them will be near – or even upon – the field of battle.”

  He settled his gaze upon Brenyn. “It is likely that, should my army prevail, the darkings will then seek to slay me.”

  Murlet sucked in a sharp breath. “And you want that Brenyn should –”

  Taumus shook his head, cutting him off. “I want nothing – indeed, I expect nothing, captain. Fear not, if Brenyn does nothing to the darking, should one appear, you will be paid for you services. My only request was that Brenyn come, and here he is. I ever keep my word, captain.”

  With that, he turned and beckoned for one of the officers to join him. “This is General Eizen,” he said as the man came up. “He will command my armies – in my sight – upon the field of battle. It is his desire that you guard either the left flank of the army or the right, depending upon the ground.”

  He looked around at the tumult of martial activity. “We go to this battle with something just over four thousand men,” he said. “More than three thousand come from Merkland, another several hundred from Hanfurd.” He looked back. “It is believed that our enemies will muster five thousand against us. We have but two hundred cavalry. General Eizen means to place those two hundred upon the most endangered flank and you upon the other.”

  He fixed Murlet with his hard gaze. “Will you go to war with us then, captain?”

  Murlet glanced at Brenyn, who simply met his gaze without speaking, and nodded. “We will.”

  “Good.” Taumus turned his horse away. “Then I leave you with General Eizen,” he said.

  Eizen was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a beard that was closely cropped and completely gray, though his hair, flowing from beneath his helmet, was utterly black. He nodded to Murlet and pointed to his right, to the north of the city. “You may camp where you like, captain, but there is likely more room over to the north, next to that small stand of forest. Did you bring victuals?”

  Murlet nodded. “We always travel with supplies sufficient for a week.”

  “Well, should you require more, go over next to the gates and speak with Captain Fauseth and he will supply your need. We mean to move at dawn. You will bring up the rear as we go.”

  “Understood,” Murlet answered. “We will be ready to move at your command.”

  “Thank you, captain.” Eizen gazed curiously at Brenyn for a moment and then wheeled about and rode off into the camp.

  Eizen was evidently a competent commander – either that or it was due to the watchful eye of his prince – for, true to his word, the army was on the move before the sun climbed one hour into the sky. Moving around to the south of Marius, the army passed to the east along the city’s southern walls and gained the road on the far side. It was a road laid down by the ancients in another age of the earth and was well-paved, wide, and level. The army moved briskly, efficiently, making good time, marching toward the east.

  Merkland, east of Marius, consisted of a rolling landscape of farmland and scattered thin strips of forest. There were towns and villages as well, though not as numerous or as large as those to the west. Merkland was bordered by Morilund on the north and Illnius on the south and east. The other member of the alliance that had taken up arms against Taumus, the land of Worgunia, lay to the east of Illnius. And the forces of these belligerents were, by all accounts, nearing the frontier with Merkland along this very road.

  As they journeyed eastward, the landscape to the north of the road began to grow higher and rougher. Farms were fewer and the forests grew thicker and more frequent. As a consequence, the ancient road gradually curved around toward the southeast. The long column of men, with the prince and his generals at its front, marched steadily onward throughout the whole of that day.

  Then, as the sun sank low in the sky behind them, scouts appeared upon the pavement, coming hard from the southeast.

  The enemy had been spotted.

  Word filtered back through the ranks, all the way to the rear where Murlet and his band rode. The forces of the enemy had been found and were encamped but two or three miles from the frontier amidst the endlessly undulating green hills where farms could be found in every low place beside every stream. Shortly afterward came the order to move off the road and encamp.

  The army of Merkland was well-trained and disciplined – a reflection of the personality of its prince. Even so, there had been laughter and much ribald banter as it had marched throughout that day. Now, with the enemy close at hand, undoubtedly to be faced upon the morrow, the mood in the camp was quiet and subdued.

  There was a strip of old oaks north of the road and the men, as the sun slid below the edge of the world, unlimbered axes and cut fuel for cooking fires. Brenyn, as before, shared his fire with Jed and Aron. Both were solemn and frowns often crossed their brows as they gazed into the flames. Brenyn, watching them, thought that he knew the reason for their somber attitudes.

  Both of them were more than themselves now. Aron had a wife – Glora, who even now was but a few yards away, sharing a tent with Riana. And Jed had left his family behind in the valley, an infant daughter, and a wife who was pregnant with another child. Death upon a field of battle now was more than the loss of one life, it would be a loss that affected others.

  Even so, Brenyn knew that both these men would stand firm and face the foe without fear or hesitation when the moment came for steel to meet steel. As for Brenyn, he would do his utmost to see that these two men returned to the arms of those they loved.

  As the silence around the fire persisted, Brenyn turned his thoughts to the morrow and to Prince Taumus’ expectation that a darking would “be near or even upon the field of battle.” Would the darking truly show itself, he wondered, and if so, where? Would it be in the enemy ranks, or watching the battle unfold from a neutral vantage?

  And if one appeared, Brenyn wondered, what would he do? If the creature appeared in the enemy ranks, he could do nothing – unless chance brought him close to the creature.

  Indeed, if a darking came and showed itself at all, how could he possibly separate himself from the melee of battle and confront the creature while yet guarding his friends?

  For a time then, while the night deepened, Brenyn pondered the mystery that lay buried inside his being. Prince Taumus wa
s unquestionably correct in his assumption that whatever had been imparted to him by his mother, had been imparted to his very flesh, bone, and blood, and not only to weapons made of cold steel. For the weapons crafted by his mother had not sufficed to save the life of his father in the midst of battle.

  Yet it was also true that at least one of the weapons had been on Brenyn’s person every time the power awoke inside him. The dagger had been in his possession on the day he had rescued Emi from the flood.

  Were the weapons some sort of catalyst to the magic? Did they work in unison with whatever ran in his blood? Would he ever discover the secret?

  Brenyn looked up as Jed stood and nodded to him and Aron.

  “I’m off to bed,” Jed said. “I want to be sharp tomorrow.”

  Aron nodded and rose also. “Yes,” he answered, “as do I.” He looked over. “Goodnight, Brenyn.”

  “I am going to sit a while yet,” Brenyn answered. “Rest well, both of you.”

  “Goodnight, Brenyn.”

  “Goodnight, Aron; goodnight, Jed.”

  After they had gone, the camp gradually quieted. The night was pleasant, and the stars shone brightly overhead. Brenyn lifted his head and gazed up at those tiny distant fires, scattered across the vast blackness of eternity. It struck him in that moment how much his life had changed, and how large had grown the things that troubled him.

  His life had ever seemed a small thing, comprised of simple needs, simple tasks, and simple pleasures – caring for his Gran and the farm, fishing for supper in Small River, and delighting in Emi’s wonder at finding mushrooms hidden among the undergrowth of the forest.

  And in that small, pleasant world that had produced him, love had taken root his heart and given him a dream of a wondrous future with Emi.

  Now, that dream was gone, and he was abroad in a world of war and ruin, searching for a purpose. Barely into his third decade of life, Brenyn found himself thrust into a simmering cauldron of death and misery, where enormous issues begged resolution.

  Brenyn did not doubt that his life could, and should, matter in some way, perhaps in a great way, in this world of woe. And it was true that the darking – a strange and powerful fiend feared by all men – had perished upon the road west of Inverlin because he had been there to confront the creature.

  Unquestionably, there was a power inside Brenyn, and men of strength and importance, such as Prince Taumus, expected much of him because of it. But what was the limit of that power? What could that power do ere its force was spent? – how much could it accomplish? And what would happen when that power met with an even greater force?

  Brenyn lowered his gaze from the star-encrusted sky and gazed into the fire. What sort of power – or magic – was it that his mother had bequeathed to him on the day of his birth? And what was its reach? – its extent? Was he to be a man of destiny, or was he simply some freakish form of human anomaly?

  Finally, when the fire devolved into coals, Brenyn arose and sought his bed.

  These questions that troubled him would remain.

  Tomorrow would bring battle and he must be rested.

  38.

  The morning dawned clear and warm, with a slight breeze out of the south and the promise of blue skies overhead. The army was aligned in a long column, marching toward the frontier, ere the sun broke the horizon and began to climb into those cerulean skies. Captain Murlet’s band rode once more at the tail end of the column.

  But one hour after leaving its camp, the column halted. For perhaps another half-hour the men waited, wondering at the delay. Then the column began to move once more, but slowly, and as he looked forward, Brenyn could see men breaking the column and spilling out to the right, arraying themselves into lines of battle.

  Apparently, Prince Taumus and General Eizen had found the ground upon which they meant to face the enemy.

  Soon, the horsemen of Merkland, who had been riding near the middle of the column, swung off to the right, behind the lines of infantry and rode toward the end of the line, to take their place on the wing of the army. The rest of the infantry broke the column and marched off the roadway toward the left.

  Captain Haish, Eizen’s aide, came hastening back along the length of the column to find Murlet. “The general wishes you to go to the left, captain,” Haish told Murlet, and he pointed. “He wants you to establish your line between the flank of the infantry and that stand of trees just there. There is a river valley to our immediate front and the army is even now deploying upon the northern crest of a small ridge that slopes into that valley. There, where you will be, the slope to the front steepens and will be readily defensible.”

  Haish held up a warning hand. “We are facing a somewhat more numerous foe who may very well use his advantage in troops to attempt to overlap our lines. Should he do this, you may find it expedient to dismount and form a defense in those trees.”

  Haish looked hard at Murlet. “Do you object to this?”

  Murlet shook his head. “I do not.”

  Haish nodded and pivoted his mount. “Then go and take up your position at once, captain,” he said, “for the enemy even now is deploying to our front.”

  Murlet looked back at his troop. “Alright, lads, let’s go and earn our pay.”

  They hurried off toward the left and positioned themselves between the wing of the army, which was now online and facing southeast, and the stand of trees. Murlet formed them into a broad, staggered wedge of two lines, with the end of the line of infantry to his right and his left flank anchored in the grove of trees, a small forest comprised of mature oaks and elms.

  Brenyn, positioned in the second rank next to Jed and near the left end of the line by the trees, stood up in his stirrups and looked to the front. A shallow valley, no more than a half-mile wide lay to the front, with a narrow stream, a small river, flowing from left to right. Over to the right, the roadway descended through this gentle vale and went up the far side in a nearly straight line.

  There was a lone farmhouse with a small barn standing next to the road a few hundred paces down the slope on a knoll above the stream. The farmer and his family had piled their things in an oxcart and were driving hurriedly up the pavement toward Prince Taumus’ lines of battle for it was clear that their little patch of earth would soon bear witness to horror.

  Upon the far crest, a dark line of soldiers was spreading out to the left and the right of the road. By the time Prince Taumus’ men were arrayed and ready to advance, the enemy line upon the far ridge was also set and gazing northward, with troops of cavalry upon its wings.

  It was then that Brenyn noticed a thrumming in his nerves and extremities, including his fingers and his toes inside his boots. Moment by moment, the sensation grew stronger until it seemed that his very bones vibrated with the strength of it.

  He knew this feeling.

  He had first experienced it when the darking had ridden up the road and into Pierum years before.

  A darking, then, was here, somewhere upon this field.

  He raised himself higher and studied the enemy lines.

  His gaze ran slowly along that dark line upon the far crest, looking for the telltale sight of a tall black hat and a caped figure astride a dark mount.

  But there were only men over there, a long line of armored foot soldiers topped with glinting pikes.

  He examined the cadre of cavalry opposite but could see no caped, black-hatted creature among their number. Then he leaned forward and looked toward the far end of that line, at the group of enemy cavalry clustered way over there. Despite the distance, he could see that there was no darking among their number.

  Even so, the tingling in his muscle and bone grew stronger.

  There was a creature of magic somewhere nearby.

  Then he heard Kristo, who was positioned in the front rank and several paces to Brenyn’s right, exclaim; “What’s a red darking doing here?”

  “They must think this battle important, for I have never seen a red darking be
fore,” Murlet replied quietly.

  “No, nor I,” Kristo agreed.

  Brenyn’s heart jumped at this utterance and he stood tall in the stirrups once more, gazing to the front, but he could spy no darking anywhere in view.

  He glanced over at Kristo.

  The sergeant was looking toward his left, eastward, past the stand of trees and beyond the field of the impending battle. Every trooper in the front rank, in fact, was staring toward the east end of the valley. Across the narrow vale, the faces of the enemy were turned in that direction also. Brenyn eased Noris forward, between two troopers in the front line where he could see beyond the trees and looked eastward as well.

  Two figures sat their horses upon a knoll at the east end of the valley, on a bit of high ground that extruded between the two shallow depressions on the north and the south where two small tributaries came together to create the river that ran along the bottom of the vale to the army’s front. There was no mistaking the tall, square-brimmed hats that adorned their heads, one black and one red, nor the white faces that occupied the spaces beneath. One figure was all in black, but the other, seated on his mount slightly forward of his companion, wore a cloak of crimson.

  A darking lord.

  Brenyn understood now the intensity of the trembling in his bones. Apparently, this impending conflict was of some import, so much so that a lord had come to observe. Was it Prince Taumus’ resistance to the influence of the creatures, Brenyn wondered, that called for the potent presence of a lord? – either in the mind of the lord himself or in the thoughts of whoever or whatever it was that claimed mastery over them?

  For the darking lord and his servant were apparently seated upon that knoll in order to witness the ensuing battle.

  Why?

  If Prince Taumus’ efforts to make peace with his neighbors angered them so, a darking could have simply gone to Marius and slain him. But, according to all that was known of them, that was not generally their way.