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

by Daniel Hylton

  Gatison of Durovia, Johan told him – as he had promised to Brenyn – had sent an emissary to Veir and the two lands had made a commitment to peace.

  With reluctance, Brenyn bade his friends farewell and went eastward once more, as the days grew shorter and colder. He paid a brief visit to Prince Gatison and then turned southward again. In Marsia, rather than turning westward, he went on into the south of that land, into the hilly country that defined its southern regions. Finding there yet another ancient highway that trended east and west, he at last turned toward the west.

  When he came to Mashad and Worgunia, he remained to the south, traveling in the warmer climes. Eventually, he turned south in order to enter new lands. South of Illnius, he entered the land of Brouard and found that rumor of the darking slayer had preceded him. Access was granted with awe and a measure of fear. As he had in other places, he asked whether there were darkings abroad. And, finally, there, at the border of Brouard, he was rewarded with a reply in the affirmative.

  “A darking passed this post but a day ago,” the sergeant told him.

  “Red or black?” Brenyn asked.

  “Black.”

  “Whither did it go?”

  The sergeant pointed behind him. “The darking went to the south, toward the city of Awari.”

  “Awari – does your prince dwell there?” Brenyn asked him.

  The man nodded. “Prince Norbern’s hall is in Awari.”

  Brenyn urged Noris forward at once, into the south. After weeks of fruitless searching, he might at last catch another darking to slay, reducing their numbers once more. All that day and the next, he and Noris raced southward across the corrugated hills and hollows of Brouard, hoping to chase the darking down.

  But, in the end, he was to be disappointed.

  Awari was a rather small town for being a major city and the capitol of a principality and showed ample evidence of the ravages of war. Arriving late in the afternoon of the third day, Brenyn gave his name to the soldiers guarding the gates and was shown at once into the city and to the hall of prince Norbern.

  Norbern, a thin, small man with short gray hair, studied him with a mixture of awe and curiosity when Brenyn entered his hall.

  Brenyn inclined his head shortly in greeting, and then spoke to the reason for his entering the hall. “I am chasing a darking, Your Highness, that was last seen approaching this city.”

  Norbern blinked his large brown eyes. “You are the darking slayer of which all the land speaks?”

  “I am the slayer,” Brenyn answered shortly. “The darking – is it here? – for I did not see its mount outside.”

  Norbern shook his head. “It passed through Awari this very day, just after mid-day. I thought that it would call at my hall, as it, or another, has done before, but nay – it hastened onward, into the south, toward Mitsua.”

  Brenyn frowned. “Mitsua – that is the land to your south?”

  Norbern nodded. “We have oft been at war with that land, but I reached a truce with Prince Togar barely two months gone.” His features darkened. “I thought the darking had come to insist that hostilities resume, but it did not stay. It hurried onward.”

  He abruptly went silent and stared at Brenyn.

  Then, once more, he spoke. “The darking fled from you, did it not?” It was a statement rather than a question, tendered in a voice that was saturated with awe. Norbern’s eyes went wide with wonder. “True - it hastened, for it fled from the slayer.”

  Brenyn ignored that. “It passed through Awari at mid-day?”

  “No more than an hour past mid-day,” Norbern affirmed.

  Brenyn’s heart sank. As much as he had driven Noris, nearly to the limits of the horse, he had yet gained not an hour upon the creature as it fled before him. “And it went southward?”

  Norbern nodded again. “Toward the land of Mitsua.”

  Brenyn inclined his head as he turned away. “I thank you, Your Highness, but I must hasten as well, if I am to catch and slay the creature.”

  Leaving the prince and those that had gathered in the hall gazing after him in astonishment, Brenyn hastened out, mounted up, and drove Noris southward. Though he chased the darking for three days more, deep into the land of Mitsua, he never gained an hour upon it. At every report, the darking held – and kept – a half-day’s advantage on him.

  At last, at the border of the land of Honan, which bordered Mitsua upon the south, and where his name was not known to the soldiers guarding the frontier, Brenyn gave up the chase.

  The cold weather and short days told him that mid-winter approached, and he wanted to be in the north, traveling the now-familiar roads of Merkland and the principalities to the east when spring came once more. Returning to Awari, he went toward the west once more, and then back toward the north to pass through the lands that lay to the south of Merkland and Hanfurd.

  Here, in the lands that bordered Merkland and Illnius, the rumor of the slayer of darkings had come and Brenyn was granted access merely by speaking his name. Passing through Ranlonwald and Gruene, where Helvard had been replaced by a prince named Troan, Brenyn went westward through the mountains and came into Braddia – where the rumor of the darking slayer had also come – and where he learned that Braddia’s war with Thayn to the west yet raged. As he turned and journeyed northward, Brenyn often gazed westward at the tendrils of smoke that befouled the winter sky and spoke to the horrors of that unending war and considered attempting to employ his power to bring an end to the conflict.

  Were he successful, then peace would reign across many leagues of the earth, from Durovia all the way to the sea. Besides, should Brenyn negotiate a truce between the two nations, he might then take a respite from his labors and go and look upon that great body of water of which he had heard but never seen.

  But as he travelled northward and spoke to the peoples in the towns, villages, and hamlets of Braddia, he learned from them that the war, whether it had been precipitated by darkings or no, had continued for many years, nearly a decade, and the hatred that it had generated was deep and abiding. Braddia and Thayn were large principalities – both rulers referred to themselves as kings – and were heavily populated, with a nearly endless supply of young men and women to be pressed into the war effort. To Brenyn’s surprise, few of the people of Braddia seemed to long for peace, and an end to the terrible cost of the war, craving retribution instead.

  Many people with whom Brenyn had contact, in fact, treated him with suspicion. Unaware of his identity, they wondered if he was either a spy – evidently suspecting that he was of Thaynian blood – or a deserter, perhaps, from a Braddian unit. Few of them, despite the horrors that were visited upon their land by the endless hostilities, spoke favorably of ending the conflict. They seemed to believe that the next battle, or the next, would at last bring the king of Thayn to his knees, rendering Braddia victorious.

  Once more, Brenyn was forced to face the truth that Johan Murlet had spoken – that while darkings exploited the tendencies to lust and deceit and war that dwelled in the hearts of men – those tendencies were already there, darkings or no. And so, with the last weeks of winter waning before the oncoming spring, he urged Noris northward, out of the land of Braddia and into Juritzia.

  He was not challenged at the border, for Juritzia had at last been drawn into the war as an ally of Braddia and the frontier posts were unmanned. Reaching the town of Tinzen, he turned eastward and ascended the valley with the tumbling river and made his way up to the ancient crossroads and hesitated, looking eastward along that desolate stretch of pavement that led toward mountains, far to the east. A late winter storm obscured those distant gray heights.

  After gazing that way for a time, Brenyn turned southward, through the valley where Marta’s market yet stood, deserted now, beside the road.

  As he passed the track that led across the valley to the old mercenary town, he slowed, wondering whether he should go and pay a visit to his friend, Jed. Strangely, though, perhaps becau
se he had spent so many days and weeks on his own, camping in lonely groves of trees and alongside streams, seldom engaging with other humans, he found himself reluctant to revisit his old life.

  Besides, he wondered, if the race of darkings, that fled from him now, learned of his interest in and care for others, might those others then become a target of their wrath?

  It was a chance, he realized, that he could not take.

  Urging Noris on down the valley road, he went southward and turned east through the hills north of Hanfurd.

  As winter retreated and the springtime breezes freshened out of the south, he hunted eastward, through the northern regions of Morilund and Fralun, and then crossed the Metallum Mountains and entered Sira, the ancient enemy of Magnus.

  Everywhere Brenyn went, in every land and at every border crossing, he discovered that his fame had grown. His name and his title – darking slayer – had spread throughout all the lands through which he had passed and beyond.

  While this fact served to render him ever more reticent to engage in human interaction, it also explained his lack of prey. Day after day, he encountered no rumor of darkings in any of the lands from Braddia eastward to Durovia.

  One night in spring, while he camped in a forested swale in the north of Durovia, as he pondered his inability to find darkings, Brenyn realized that he must widen the region of his search – and that he must, from this day onward, make every attempt to travel unseen, or, as much as was possible, unnoticed.

  Was he being watched, he wondered? – or were darkings simply avoiding those lands where he was known to travel? Then he thought of the large raven that emanated evidence of magic and had observed him on several occasions. Was that creature the eyes of the darkings’ unknown master? If so, then that bird would warn the darkings of his coming, that they could avoid their enemy.

  From this time forward, Brenyn decided, not only would he have to employ stealth as he journeyed, but he must watch the sky, also. And should he spy that winged messenger, he must try and slay that creature as well.

  For the remaining days of that spring and into the summer, Brenyn carefully avoided border crossings, finding his way around those outposts where he would be recognized and from which the rumor of his travels would spread. Instead, he passed from land to land through wild places and by remote, seldom-traveled roads.

  As he went, he also watched the sky and the upper branches of nearby trees for signs of ravens. He slew four of the birds during that time that he thought suspicious, though all were found upon examination to be devoid of any evidence of magic.

  Still, his new strategy of stealth produced results. Passing through the vast wild lands east of Durovia, where grass and water for Noris grew alarmingly scarce, he at last came down out of those dry and desolate highlands and into another broad region of farms and villages upon plains that stretched away seemingly unlimited toward the eastern horizon. Riding eastward along a lane that passed between small farms, many of which were damaged by fire and a few of which appeared deserted, he entered a small town lying upon a main road that crossed in front of him from north to south.

  He could see an open stretch of the pavement of this main road as it passed between the places of business at the center of the town. Strangely, the people of the town – the few that were in view – hastened off the streets as he approached, disappearing inside the buildings. But they were not looking toward Brenyn as they fled. Rather, whatever caused them to hide in fear seemed to be coming from the north.

  And, as Brenyn came within a hundred yards of the center of town, he felt the tell-tale tingle of a creature of magic nearby. He reined Noris to a halt, closed his eyes, and concentrated.

  Was the creature indeed coming closer or going away?

  After another few moments, he sensed that the creature of magic, undoubtedly a darking, was drawing nearer, approaching from the north along the road that passed in front of him. He eased Noris to within arrowshot of the main road, where he dismounted, nocked an arrow, and took aim at the open length of pavement that was in view in the space between two buildings.

  Bow drawn, Brenyn waited.

  The runes carved upon the curve of the wood gleamed in the light of the sun, as if enlivened by magic.

  The darking came into view, traveling southward along the road. As it entered the junction, the creature halted abruptly, and its head jerked around to look westward.

  It saw Brenyn.

  Immediately, it turned away, spurring its horse, and leaned forward over the saddle, urging its mount toward the south.

  But Brenyn had anticipated it. His missile was already on its way, glowing in the sunlight as if aflame, rife with magic.

  The fiery arrow struck the darking in the head, toppling it from its mount and onto the pavement.

  Brenyn mounted up and hastened forward. Again, however, as with all the others he had slain, the darking, its weapon, and its clothing – everything was being consumed. The features hidden behind the masking cloth would yet remain a mystery.

  While Brenyn was standing in the road, examining the stain left by the dissolution of the darking, he became aware that a few of the townsfolk had come out of the buildings and were gathering upon the walkway behind him.

  He turned and looked at them.

  The citizen standing nearest to him, a merchant wearing a leather apron, flinched as Brenyn’s attention focused upon him but managed to hold his place and meet Brenyn’s gaze.

  His eyes were wide as he looked back at Brenyn. “You-you slew a darking!”

  Brenyn nodded. “I am known in the lands to the west, that lie beyond the wilderness, as the darking slayer.”

  At this, the man retreated a step and stared at him for a long moment before cautiously easing to the edge of the walkway once again. He glanced over at the pavement where the darking had died and then cautiously looked back. “You are a wizard?”

  Brenyn shook his head. “Nay, sir; I am no wizard. I slay darkings, but I am no wizard.”

  “You have slain others?” The man asked, his eyes wide.

  “Several,” Brenyn answered. “I have slain five darkings and four lords.”

  The merchant’s gaze grew even wider with astonishment. “You have slain red darkings?”

  “I have,” Brenyn assured him. “And I mean to hunt and slay them all.”

  The merchant’s response to this surprised Brenyn. His eyes misted and he choked back a surge of emotion. “Heaven bless you, sir. The world has needed someone like you in it for a very long time.”

  The people that stood behind the merchant reacted in like manner. Ignoring them, Brenyn glanced north and south along the broad, ancient road. “Do darkings pass this way often?”

  “Nay,” the merchant answered. “In times past, the darkings ever traveled the roads to the east, within Deane proper. There are larger cities there with many more people.”

  “Deane – that is the name of this land?” Brenyn asked.

  “It is.”

  “And you seldom see darkings upon this road?”

  The man shook his head. “In times past – never. Lately, however, they have come out from the wilderness and gone toward the east.” He shook his head yet again. “I have seen more of those terrible creatures in the past year than in the whole of my life.”

  Then, abruptly, his gaze riveted upon Brenyn’s face and his eyes flew wide once more. “They flee from you.”

  “They are wise to avoid me,” Brenyn agreed darkly.

  “Will you remain with us then?” A woman that stood behind the merchant wondered, hope making her voice tremble. “Stay, in our town, and keep us safe from them?”

  Brenyn shook his head. “I must ever hunt the creatures – in ever more lands. I will guard you best by so doing.” He looked back at the merchant. “The darkings go eastward from this place?”

  “Not from here,” the man replied, “for, as you can see, there is no road that goes across the plains. Once they come out of the wild lands,
they generally go south to the town of Grainent where a broad road runs eastward toward Regon. My brother dwells in Grainent, and he says that the creatures that come there ever turn eastward upon that road.” The man glanced down at the pavement where the slain darking had dissolved to nothing. “This creature was undoubtedly going that way like the others.”

  Hearing that, Brenyn turned and gazed eastward across the broad, seemingly endless plains. How far did the darkings flee, he wondered? – beyond this land, or did they remain here, in Deane, where he had never hunted them? Should he continue eastward, rather than turning southward as had been his intent?

  He had crossed the wild lands east of Durovia for the simple logistical reason of gradually broadening the regions of the earth under his protection and had intended to turn south and then back to the west once out of that high, wild country. Now, he wondered if he should continue eastward and attempt to catch the darkings that had fled the western lands.

  He turned back to the merchant.

  “Who is your prince?” He asked.

  “His name is Kerner. He dwells in the city of Regon.”

  “And how far distant is the city of Regon?” Brenyn asked.

  “Three or four weeks by oxcart, depending on how heavily one’s cart is loaded,” the man replied. “Perhaps a bit less than two weeks on horseback.”

  Brenyn frowned. “Indeed – so far as that?”

  “Deane is a large and broad land,” the merchant answered.

  Brenyn looked eastward once more and then glanced up at the position of the sun and considered. The height of summer had passed, and the season was waning, autumn would come soon. It was his intention to complete another circuit of the lands in the west, while widening that circuit, before the turning of the year.

  And if he spent another month or more hunting eastward, then his friends in the lands behind him, to the west, would be left unprotected for a prolonged period. He could not be certain that there were not still many darkings there, in the west, that would trouble his friends in his absence.

  He looked back at the merchant. “I must go now, but I will return to this land after the turning of the next year, at the fullness of spring or the beginning of summer. If there yet be darkings here, I will hunt them and slay them all.”