by Alex Janaway
‘I wish you weren’t doing this,’ said Killen.
‘I know, but we have come too far, endured too much, to not try,’ she responded.
‘Well, you know you are not alone,’ the Major replied.
Owen smiled. Killen had developed a real familial, almost paternal bond with these survivors who they had stayed with for three days, sharing food, shepherding them towards Erebesh, ensuring there was no more pursuit. In Killen’s head he had taken on the responsibility for them. They were Erebeshi and he, to all intents and purposes was an Erebeshi officer, leading the remains of the Erebeshi army. It was his duty to protect them. Owen knew that if it wasn’t for him and his cause, the scouts would have headed straight back home with Lila.
‘I wish you good fortune,’ she said to them all. ‘But the dwarves and probably the elves, they will all know about us and I fear they will want to finish what they started.’
‘We are going to give them a reason to think again,’ said Owen.
She nodded. There was nothing else to say.
They all gathered to cheer them off, the scouts shouting their high-pitched ululating cries, as the survivors continued their journey south, their journey home. They waved back, smiling and hopeful. The walkers were joined by two scouts, each leading two camels loaded with supplies, volunteers who were told to escort the civilians well into Erebesh to ensure they were safely on their way. Perhaps they would find others. It was a hard country, Owen was not sure he could do it.
The truth was, he was disappointed. He’d wanted them to join the rest of his people, but he could well understand their reasoning. It was why he’d come home to the Highlands when all else was lost.
‘Do you reckon you’ll see your scouts again?’ he asked of Killen.
Killen looked at him with surprise. ‘Of course, they are still Tissan soldiers! Isn’t that right, Hassan?’
‘Yes Major! No question. Never doubt an Erebeshi, General!’ said Hassan, proudly.
‘Very good, Hassan. Now, go get saddled up, we have a long way home.’
Hassan saluted and scurried off. Killen watched him go and stroked his beard, now forked at the chin. Another Erebeshi affectation. He leaned in close.
‘You know I wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t come back.’
Owen sighed. ‘I’m sorry. That was foolish of me. Your scouts don’t need to hear me question their loyalty. It is disrespectful of all they and you have done.’
Killen waved it off. ‘Half my people volunteered to go. That’s a chance of a life. Something none of us had thought to imagine before we ran into you.’
‘My life promises conflict.’
‘That it does, but even if there is no Empire any more, my soldiers fight for the future of those who are left, those who can start again.’ He pointed at the group fading from view. ‘All I can do is try and make it a reality.’
‘Thank you for the vote of confidence.’
Killen laughed softly.
‘Note I said “try”, Owen. We are with you, but I’m not sure we can win. I just don’t see another way. Hiding isn’t going to help. Not in the long run.’
‘It’s how I feel too, Major. The only way to stop this is to make the enemy feel what we have felt. To understand the cost. See they never want to feel it again.’
‘And yet we are going to experience it a lot more too, before this is done.’
Owen shrugged.
‘As you said, there is no other option.’
They were both silent a moment. Owen found himself thinking about Em. It was strange, when he thought about all those he had lost, she was always first. Beside him, Killen stamped his feet and shook himself off.
‘Anyway. If what Lila says is true, then the scales may have shifted somewhat.’
‘If what she says is true,’ agreed Owen.
‘I guess we’ll see you back at Eagle’s Rest.’
‘Yes. I’ll stop there, let them know what’s happened and then carry on north. If I can find this column, then we can truly swell our numbers.’
Killen made a face. ‘Do you think they’ll want to help? After everything they’ve been through?’
Owen shook his head. ‘When I tell them what is coming, do you think they’ll have much of a choice?’
The Brevis Sea, he knew of the islands off its northern coast, but couldn’t recall ever actually flying over them. He’d had no reason to. By and large all the Eagle Riders stayed overland when they travelled. Eagles weren’t the best swimmers. He looked down at Arno and smiled. No, not the best swimmers, but they weren’t averse to dipping their talons in if there was something tasty to eat. At least Arno didn’t try that when Owen was riding him. They flew along the eastern side, tracking the coastline. Down below they passed the remains of several settlements, the remnants of what was once a thriving region of fishermen and traders. Back in the day, before the birth of the Empire, he’d heard the Brevis Sea was home to small city-states that vied for control of the wealth the sea offered, eager to control the links to the north that the Sea’s rivers and tributaries offered. Or so he had been told. Those states had fallen to the invading armies from the Riverlands in their drive to conquer and forge the future Tissan.
As they covered the miles, Owen wondered if he and Arno were now the most widely travelled of Eagle Riders. Surely no one had criss-crossed the lands as much as he and Arno had. At least not since those first Highlanders had thought to explore the world from aloft. It was a nice idea, but when he thought about it, there were still swathes of the land he had yet to see: far Erebesh, the forests of Celtebaria, and indeed, the homelands of their enemies to the east. And what lay beyond that? Over the mountains which were said to divide the great landmass they dwelt upon. Now there would be an adventure. Still. ‘How many Eagle Riders have flown across Drifa, Arno?’ Owen laughed. How many would want to? His thoughts drifted to the task at hand. It had been his intention to head all the way to the coast to liaise with his new-found allies. If the queen had held up her side of the bargain, then they should have made landfall by now. It was whether she had convinced others to join. It would make little impact if she hadn’t. He had promised them spoils, a safe harbour and a strategy. But it required many longboats. Well, the resolution to that problem would have to wait a little longer. Here was a new opportunity, and he was excited by it. The suggestion that there may be a settlement thousands strong out there, that was a game changer. The extra swords could make all the difference. Perhaps, like the Erebeshi to the south, they had been pursued and had already been hunted down. He imagined a line of the dead, stretching for miles as the dwarves picked off the stragglers, cold and starving, suffering the worst of the winter. Bodies frozen where they fell, their blood staining the snow.
Owen shook his head, there was no value in thinking about such things. He had to know. ‘Come on Arno, let’s drop a little lower, I want to see the sea.’
On the third day of the search Owen spotted five riders, specks on a hillside heading northwest. He had reached the curve of the Brevis Sea, where its northern coastline, speckled with yet more wasted settlements, disappeared in a uneven, meandering march westwards. He tempered his excitement and stayed high enough to not be identified. He flew randomly, staying behind them, monitoring their progress. They entered a small wood and Owen passed overhead, waiting for them to exit. After a few minutes, there was no activity. Which left two options: either they had set up a temporary camp, or he and Arno had been spotted. Either way, it was time to roll the dice again. He bid Arno take them to spot fifty yards from the treeline. As the eagle touched down, Owen breathed deep. He’d had every kind of reaction to his arrivals and had found, to his regret, that his optimistic first impressions could easily be wrong. He climbed off Arno and patted the eagle’s flank. ‘Sorry old friend, I’m putting us in harm’s way again. Be ready to run if it gets hot,’ he pulsed. Owen looked at his holstered weapons on the sides of the saddle. He shook his head. No, not today. ‘And then do your nor
mal heroics and save my arse,’ he said out loud to Arno, as he walked towards the wood. He removed his headgear and pulled off his gloves.
‘Hello in there?’ he shouted. ‘Mind if I join you?’ He squinted into the wood, dark shapes were moving rapidly, flitting behind trees, taking up positions no doubt. He stopped and raised his hands high in the air. ‘I’m unarmed.’ That might stop any hasty missiles coming his way. Maybe.
‘Who in the Hells are you?’ a gruff voice challenged.
‘My name is Owen. Owen Derle. I’m a Highlander.’
‘No shit.’
Owen smiled. ‘What gave it away?’
There were a few moments of silence and a man emerged from the shadows. He strode towards Owen with one hand tucked into his belt and the other resting on the pommel of his sheathed sword. ‘Just so you know, there’s a score of bolts aimed at you.’
‘Understood.’
The man halted a couple of yards from Owen. Keen blues eyes appraised him and the lips set within the black and grey-bearded face were pursed tightly. The man looked well-built and powerful, and wore a chain hauberk under leather, the armour looked a little odd on him, it was worn yet well made, but the dimensions were off.
‘Can I put my hands down?’ asked Owen.
The man’s eyes flicked to Arno for a second, then he nodded.
‘The name’s Devlin.’
‘Well met, Devlin.’
‘I don’t think we ever had any Eagle Riders with our group. I’m looking at your bird and I’m looking at you, and something tells me you are an Imperial.’
‘I was.’
‘What are you now?’
‘A survivor.’
Devlin grunted.
‘What brings you here, Owen?’
‘I was looking for you.’
An eyebrow raised. ‘How so?’
‘We ran into some of your people, heading south towards Erebesh.’
Devlin snorted, gave him something close to a smile. ‘Good to know they made it.’
‘They almost didn’t. They were being tracked by dwarves, but we took care of it. And they have native guides to get them home.’
Devlin raised a hand. ‘Wait. When you said “we”, I thought you meant you and your bird. There are more of you?’
‘Yes. A lot more. But, if what I hear is true, there are even more of you, not too far away?’
Devlin shook his head. ‘Alright, enough of the tiptoeing. Let’s get back under cover. I’ll make you a brew and you can tell me everything.’
‘That sounds good to me.’
Devlin stepped to one side and motioned him on. At least they hadn’t shot him out of hand.
More figures emerged from the trees, armed with crossbows. They looked a rough and grim-faced bunch. Owen could not help but think of Gerat and his Scotians.
‘Is your bird alright? Do you need to pulse him?’
Owen looked at Devlin.
‘You know a bit about Eagle Riders. You’re an Imperial too?’
‘I was,’ said Devlin, with a sour face.
‘And now?’
Devlin smiled ruefully.
‘A survivor.’
CHAPTER 8 – CADE
Cade rolled into town on her wagon. She was driving, Anyon was sprawled in the rear, Devlin next to her, and his horse tethered to the back. The place was already in an uproar. Word had gotten around fast. Folk were lining the streets all heading towards the square.
‘Make way! Coming through!’ she shouted. A few worried faces recognised her and bombarded her with questions: who was this? Were the dwarves coming? Did they have to evacuate? She ignored them all. Devlin had told her enough to know that there may be trouble brewing, but there was no point in stirring the pot yet.
‘Did you have to bring this guy in?’ Cade asked Devlin.
‘You think I should have kept him under wraps?’
‘It would have stopped all this excitement.’
‘It’s not mine or your call to make, everyone needs to hear what he has to say.’
‘Not that simple, Devlin,’ she chided.
As they rolled into the square, surrounded by a tide of people, Cade spotted Carlha’s wagon. Krste sat watching the crowd with a grin on his face. She steered it over, pulled on the parking brake and clapped Devlin on the shoulder. ‘Come on, then.’ She jumped off the wagon. ‘Hey, Krste, make yourself useful and look after this one too.’
‘No problem, boss.’ He waved.
She nodded. She was pleased that Krste was still loyal. You never knew when that might prove handy.
Cade and Devlin pushed their way towards the council chambers. A couple of Devlin’s troops were trying to hold back the tide.
‘The place is full. Councillors only,’ shouted one as he spotted the pair. He beckoned them forward and they entered into a furore. Cade swore. It was a fucking circus. People lined the balcony pointing and shouting to those gathered below.
‘Move! Please move!’ said Devlin, getting in front of Cade and forcing a path through.
Someone bumped into Cade. ‘Hey!’ She elbowed him away. Emperor, did they not recognise her? She swayed out of the way of a woman who got between Devlin and her and then jostled past a line of onlookers to reach the council tables. Many councillors were already there. She spotted Carlha, who raised her eyebrows in question. Cade shook her head in response. Where is Sent? Ah. Of course. He stood talking to the new guy, Owen, who looked younger than she’d expected. And there was Winders. He’d been keeping a low profile of late. No surprise he’d come along to this party.
‘Look, Cade. A Highlander! Hah, you can’t keep us down,’ said Rabb, with an excited smile and shining eyes. Next to him Walsh was looking suspiciously at the Eagle Rider, like he might be a bloody spy. What, maybe an elf who’d cut off his pointy ears? Idiot.
Cade puffed her cheeks and blew out a stream of air.
‘Cade!’ Sent was motioning to her. With Devlin in tow, she made her way through a gap in the tables to join them, nodding at Winders, who frowned back at her. Yeah, like he was ever going to be happy. ‘Cade, this is Owen Derle, of Eagle’s Rest.’ Sent inclined his head towards Owen. ‘Owen, this is Cade, our … well, our nominal chair.’ Nominal? Who the fuck is he calling nominal?
Owen reached out a hand. ‘Good to meet you, Cade. Um, any other name?’
She gripped it and squeezed. ‘Just Cade.’
‘Alright.’
Yes, he was definitely young, under that fuzz of a beard. But there was steel there too. She could see it in his eyes. There was an intensity. A sense of purpose. ‘Devlin here has told me a little of your story. Want to tell us the rest?’
‘Gladly.’
‘OK, then,’ Cade turned and addressed the room. ‘Everybody, shut your pipes! The man’s gonna speak so give him the floor!’ She looked at her fellow councillors. ‘Let’s take a seat. You want one, Owen?’
‘I’ll stand.’
‘Fine.’
She walked back to her seat and joined the others. Around her the hubbub had quieted but not completely. ‘I said shut the hells up!’
The crowd fell into a grudging silence.
Sent leaned in towards her. ‘Ever the diplomat,’ he whispered.
Cade bit back a retort. ‘Over to you, Eagle Rider,’ she ordered.
Owen took a breath and looked around the room.
‘My name is Owen Derle. I was an Imperial Eagle Rider in the Tissan army. I was there when the Empire finally fell, at Aberpool.’
A murmur among the gathered. Cade made a noise in her throat. Huh. It was a small world.
‘What was left took to ships, sailing west,’ Owen added. ‘The young prince was with them.’
‘I remember,’ shouted someone from the balcony. ‘They left us to die.’
‘They did,’ agreed Owen. ‘We were overwhelmed, they couldn’t save everybody. But we didn’t die, did we? Not all of us.’ Another murmur, one of approval swept through the crowd. Cade was impressed
. This one knew how to speak. ‘I was alone for a time but I found others. And I went home. And more joined me. Highlanders who had made it through the slaughter. People from elsewhere too. Scotians I reckon.’ He paused, and Cade noted the pain in his face. ‘And Erebeshi. A whole troop of camel riders!’ The pain was replaced with a broad smile. ‘And we are thriving. A community of hundreds. But you, you are thousands. Do you know what that means?’
‘Trade,’ said Carlha.
Cade liked that idea. She spotted Sent nodding eagerly.
‘Trade, yes,’ continued Owen, ‘eventually. When we have secured our futures.’
‘I thought we had,’ said Heled.
‘For now, perhaps,’ Owen nodded. ‘But not forever. The war continues. To the south, the Highlands have been striking back. We have pushed back gnome hunting parties, we have razed wood elf settlements. We are giving them pause. We are teaching them the error of their ways. They should never have tried to destroy us.’ Owen held out his palm and smashed his fist into it. ‘Every time they make us bleed, we will make them bleed.’
There was a moment of stillness. A moment where everyone absorbed what this man, this Owen Derle, was saying.
Then the silence ended, the dam broke and the uproar started again. He was talking about fighting, he was talking about a war. Rabb was on his feet shouting encouragement. A little predictable. Beside her Devlin was stroking his chin, probably the only one who wasn’t speaking. Oh, there was Winders, he was staring at her intently. He stood and raised his arm.
‘What are you saying, Eagle Rider? Make it plain.’
The hall quieted.
Owen held his hands out beseechingly. ‘I come to you to ask for your aid. With your numbers, we can make a difference, we can field a force to counter those who would do us harm. Together we are so much stronger. Together we can stop them.’
‘You would conscript us into your war?’ asked Winders.
Owen looked genuinely surprised.
‘Conscript? No. I ask you. Plain and simple. Join us in the conflict.’
‘Hah!’ said Winders, with a dismissive wave.
‘We are not soldiers,’ Sent said.
