by R. E. Palmer
Elodi tore her eyes from the back of the Archon to check the gate. Like a lace curtain, the last of the mist drew back to unveil what she had once thought belonged only in fairytales. She cowered in its presence. Towering over four hundred feet tall, the magnificent structure bore down upon them. A lattice of ancient ironwork held great slabs of smooth stone in place, secured by huge bolts Elodi guessed to be three times the thickness of a man’s body. At the base, enormous wheels constructed of wood and iron sat upon rails running in an arc to the edges. But the gate was narrower than the pass. Either side, smooth walls of rock, the same height as the gate, stretched out to the mountains as if raised by the gods to fill the gap.
As the last wisps of vapor streamed over the rim at the top, it suddenly appeared to topple forward. Elodi stumbled for a second time that morning before steadying her feet. She took a breath and gained strength from the giant structure. Surely, if anything could break through this, one thousand knights would serve only to whet the appetite of the hordes for the slaughter to come. But what lay on the other side? Did ranks of Golesh warriors also form ready to attack?
‘My subjects.’ Elodi’s chest vibrated. She turned to the Archon, now standing upon the dais. His voice seemed both loud, yet soft as his words filled the silent space before the gate. He continued. ‘You are here this morning to witness the completion of the latest stage of my defenses.’ Elodi could not take her eyes from the slender figure of the Archon as even the imposing tower behind appeared to stand in his shadow. ‘I shall shortly ascend the stairs’ — no one dared to breathe — ‘and lift my invocation from the window overlooking the gate.’
A bird cawed. Elodi recognized the call of a mountain eagle. She looked up. The bird circled close to the top of the tower. It dipped and glided over the gate. Elodi blinked, unsure if she had seen a shimmering blue line above the uppermost iron rail — perhaps another of the Archon’s invocations.
The Archon cared not for the bird. He continued his speech. ‘And for the first time since securing the pass, I shall look upon the Lost Realms.’ He held up his hands as a few gasps escaped the lips of the representatives. ‘Fear not. For too long we have hidden from them, cowering behind the gate, afraid of our own shadows.’ He clapped his hands. ‘But no more. Today, I shall reveal my presence and let them know we are no longer afraid. Today, I shall make them fear us!’ The Archon turned to the Castellan and tilted his head. The man jumped as if remembering his duty. He twisted and signaled to the captain at the head of the lines of the soldiers. The captain waved his hand and one thousand spear tips rose, accompanied by a loud cheer. Elodi felt her chest expand at the sound of their praise, but also wondered if it carried to the enemy over the gate.
The Archon allowed them a full minute before speaking. ‘I will ascend this tower to let them know I am watching them. I seek to sow doubt in their foul hearts and set into motion the third phase of my grand plan.’ With a swish of his cloak, he whirled about and walked to the small door at the foot of the tower. He withdrew a key from his robes and placed it in the door. The click of the lock echoed across the narrow pass, he opened the door and vanished inside.
Elodi turned to Bardon. She whispered. ‘Are we to wait?’
He nodded. ‘I expect so. No doubt he’ll return shortly to tell us—’
The Castellan bellowed. ‘Turn to the right!’
Bardon held out a hand. ‘But what of the Archon? Are we not to wait for his report?’
The Castellan’s eyes briefly wandered to the tower. ‘The Archon will be some time. He must prepare before he witnesses the corruption beyond the gate. I am instructed to escort you back to Archonholm.’
Bardon frowned. ‘And when do we hear his report?’
He shrugged. ‘I have not been told. First, he has to meet with the Council to discuss his findings.’ The Castellan turned his back and led the disappointed representatives from the foot of the tower.
8. BORDERS, IVY & TREE ROOTS
Elrik’s fine voice rose above the raucous crowd in the tavern as they sang Toryn’s favorite song. He stopped. The yellow light from the window laid its path across the square, inviting him back to safety and the world he knew. He resisted the pull and turned away. The song followed them as far as the stables before it faded in the night. Hamar tapped Toryn’s shoulder and whispered. ‘A knight will be on watch with their horses. We better walk on the grass so as not to disturb him.’ They stepped off the path and crept past the stables. The man inside whistled a tune unknown to Toryn. He stopped behind a tree.
‘What if they come after me? We’re no match for their horses on the road.’
Hamar pointed to the gate behind the stables. ‘We’re not going on the road, remember. They won’t find our tracks so easily at night in the woods.’ They reached the gate. Toryn winced as it creaked, glancing over his shoulder towards the stables.
Hamar spoke a little louder. ‘Don’t worry about him. We’re out of earshot now. Besides, if they’re the same as in my day, he’ll have drunk a skin full. You’ll likely get more sense from the horses.’
But Toryn remained unconvinced, worried the knight would discover their hasty departure. He kept close to Hamar as they plodded across a muddy field. ‘I’ll be happier once we’re on the other side of the fence.’
‘It’ll be slower off the road, but we should still cross within an hour, maybe two with having to pick our way around the trees in the dark.’
Toryn stopped. ‘What about the Marshal’s men?’ He had not given it a thought. ‘Won’t they be at the fence?’
Hamar stopped to recover his breath. ‘I would hope so, it’s their job. But they’ll be watching outwards, and there’re plenty of ways through the woods.’
The time had passed slowly as they had tramped across wet fields, waded through cold, shallow streams, and stumbled around exposed roots in woodland. But eventually Hamar had stopped. He leaned against a tree. ‘Here we are.’
Toryn shrugged. ‘Here we are… where exactly?’
Hamar pointed passed the tree and grinned. ‘At the district border fence.’
‘Where? I can’t see it.’
‘Underneath the ivy.’ Hamar chuckled. ‘It’s a disguise, sort of.’
‘That?’ The rickety fence wound its way precariously around old, gnarled tree trunks. Toryn turned back to Hamar. ‘This protects us from the dangers of the big, wide world?’
Hamar patted a post. ‘Hardly the Caerwal Gate, I know. But it’s sufficed all these years, probably held together by the ivy. The ward’s border with Noor is stronger.’ Hamar took a few steps along the fence. He nodded over this shoulder. ‘The crossing point is on the road a short walk yonder. Drakelow’s men know me and would more than likely let me pass with a small bribe, but they’d be wanting to know what you were up to.’ He tapped at the fence with his foot. ‘Not repaired this section for a while. The roots soon shift the posts. Most districts don’t bother these days, seeing as the main fences are stronger and better guarded.’ He cleared the ivy and pulled a board to one side. ‘After you.’
Toryn peered through the small gap. ‘As easy as that?’
Hamar grinned. ‘Always been more of a gesture than a staunch defense. As I said, the sturdier boundaries lie further to the north and south.’ Toryn held his breath, ducked through the gap and stepped out of the land of his youth. He turned to see the large frame of Hamar squeeze through, displacing the planks on either side. He rubbed moss from his coat and turned back to the fence. ‘Give us a hand, Toryn. Don’t want to make it too obvious.’ They replaced the boards as best they could. ‘Perfect. So long as they don’t look too closely, they’d never know we’ve been through.’
Toryn squinted through the trees ahead. ‘Seems much the same on this side.’
‘The scenery won’t change for a few days yet.’ Hamar adjusted his backpack and strode off, calling back. ‘But in another week, you’ll soon miss the gentle slopes and woodlands of home.’
Toryn followed.
‘I don’t get it.’
‘What is there to get?’
‘Why put the district border in the middle of this wood? Wouldn’t it have been better to lay it along the edge? It would be easier to maintain it.’
Hamar nodded. ‘You’d have thought so.’
‘So why didn’t they?’
‘Had no choice in the matter. Once the Archon had defeated the threat from the south, it’s said he took years to recover. No one knows for sure, but it seems without him around to take charge, the age-old squabbles over the boundaries surfaced again.’ He snorted. ‘Anyways, once the Archon woke from his slumber he was in no mood for trouble, so he ordered the wards and districts to resolve the disputes fast like, or receive a not-too-friendly visit from his knights who would sort it for them. And seeing as his forces fared slightly better than those of the wards, no one could stand up to him. Everyone needs wood, so it must have made sense to share.’ He patted a tree as they passed. ‘Best type of tree for building homes and barns.’
Toryn sighed. ‘And fences.’
‘Well, they’re building something down south. More and more of our wood is heading that way these days.’
‘Did you ever guard our border? You’ve never mentioned it.’
‘Hardly worth a story. I managed a month once back on my feet. They posted me up north on the crossing at Noor. But I soon grew bored with nothing happening, so I found work where I could use my hands. That’s how I ended up on your father’s farm.’
Toryn stumbled over a root. ‘What was it like on duty?’
‘Dull. We drank with Noor’s men on the other side, but little else happened. I knew one of them from my days in service.’ Hamar grunted as he stubbed his toe. ‘Mind you, it came in handy later when….’ Hamar slapped his leg.
‘When what?’
‘Ah, darn it. I didn’t mean to mention it, but they turned a blind eye to my comings and goings in the years to come.’
Toryn turned. ‘How do you mean?’
Hamar stopped and took the bottle from his backpack and gulped. ‘Time for a rest, eh?’
‘And… I suspect, a story?’
‘Well, if you’re going to twist my arm.’ Hamar groaned as he sat beside a trunk and leaned back. He reached into his jacket and brought out his pipe. ‘Darn. Can’t risk showing a light just yet.’ He placed it back in his pocket. ‘Right. Where was I? Ah yes, I had a bit of trade in the north for a while.’
‘How could you trade outside Darrow?’
He chuckled. ‘I guess you might as well know, seeing as you’re a fugitive now yourself.’ He patted the ground. ‘Pull up a stool and I’ll tell you a tale.’
Toryn took off his pack and crouched next to Hamar. ‘I had no idea you’d gone outside once you’d finished your service.’
‘And that’s how it stays. Not even Andryn knows, and I don’t want him to either.’
‘Well, he won’t hear it from me.’
Hamar patted Toryn’s leg. ‘Good lad, I don’t want to appear ungrateful to the man. He gave me a job when no one else would take a risk on an injured man, but farming was never my first choice.’
‘But I thought you loved the land.’
‘I came to appreciate it, had to, considering it became my life. But why do you think I volunteered for another ten years in the Archonian Guard?’ His eyes wandered up to the leaves. ‘I wanted to see more of the world’ — he winked at Toryn — ‘yes, like you. And what made it worse after my first term of service was the thought of living the rest of my life in Midwyche.’ His right hand clenched around the cloth holding his sword. ‘Thankfully, they signed me up for another stretch. Six years later I took a blade in the hip while brawling with three brigands in Lunn.’ He grimaced. ‘Cut short my second term, but I wasn’t ready to settle. Still not ready.’
‘So how did you manage to travel after your service?’
‘Well, then.’ He scratched his beard. ‘It started out doing a bit of trade with the brewers in the Vale of Caran. Their soil is deep and rich, and the surrounding hills protect them from the worst of the weather. Perfect for the hops, makes far better ale than ours, nuttier if you ask me, nothing—’
‘Is that where we’re heading? To this Vale of Caran?’
‘Oh no, not there. Too many soldiers stop over seeing as it’s on the Great Northwest Road, and due to the reputation of their ale. No, we wouldn’t last long before folk started asking questions. We’re heading further north to Greendell, an old colleague of mine has a place we could stay. It’s out of the way and you’ll rarely see a guard in those parts.’
‘So, what about your travels to the Vale? You said it started out as trade, then what?’
Hamar smacked his lips. ‘Couldn’t you drain a tankard or three right now? Or perhaps a nip of that liquor in your pack?’ Toryn pulled his rucksack closer. Hamar sighed. ‘Maybe later. Any rate, the owner of our tavern at the time offered to pay me to do the run, seeing as I could look after myself and knew the route. Another old colleague of mine worked the land there, so I readily accepted. But I’d have done it for nothing, it wasn’t about the money for me, it gave me the chance to get back on the road.’ He laughed. ‘And what made it sweeter was the new Marshal, that fool, Drakelow, complimented the barkeeper on his beer, not knowing it where it came from. It took him two years to find out and put a stop to my travels.’ He snarled. ‘The worm. Been stuck in Midwyche ever since.’ Hamar clicked his fingers. ‘Oh yes, right. Now I remember where this story is going. I heard an interesting tale while on one of my trips.’
Toryn gasped. ‘As interesting as this one?’
‘Alright, alright, I’m getting to the point. A hop grower told me they’d had problems with some shady characters and a droog.’
‘A droog?’ Toryn stiffened. ‘I didn’t want to ask in front of my folks, but I thought the Archonian Guard had wiped them out years ago.’
‘Sadly not. I’d say there’s still at least half a dozen on this side of the gate. It’s said raiders who invaded Caermund and as far north as Saphrir brought scores of the damn things with them. When the Archon drove the remnants of the Golesh into the sea, some fled north and escaped across the ice. But they can’t live on frozen water and blubber forever, mark my words, there’s still a few wandering these parts, and those willing to take the risk and keep them captive for their vile purposes.’
Toryn shivered. ‘And is it true? You know… about how they attack and kill their prey.’
Hamar nodded. ‘Afraid so. If I had the choice to face either an aralak or a droog, I’d choose the aralak every time. They’ll spit their ghastly poison in your face, wrap their legs around your bloated body, then drain the blood from your veins, all before you can count their legs. Not nice by any measure, but I’d still chance my luck at sticking my blade in its fat, hairy pod than landing a blow on a slimy droog.’
Toryn shuddered. ‘Ah, I can’t imagine anything worse, so they—?’
‘Not now, Tor. I’ve said enough. I won’t talk about them here, at night, in this wood. But listen, I’ve got carried away. No, it’s the fact they saw these characters and the worm only days after our clash with them in our forest back home.’
‘My father?’ Toryn stood. ‘He came this way?’
Hamar nodded. ‘Most likely I would say.’
Toryn peered through the trees as if hoping to see him. ‘Did the farmer know if he escaped?’
Hamar pushed down on his knees and climbed to his feet. ‘Not for sure, but the shadow creatures didn’t hang around, so I guess he still led them a merry dance.’
Toryn replaced his backpack. He shivered. ‘I wonder what they wanted with him.’
‘You can safely say they don’t want to sit down and share an ale together.’
Toryn took a step. ‘Could he still be on the run? Can’t be easy with those nasty creatures hunting him.’
Hamar joined him. ‘Couldn’t say for sure. But one thing I know, he can handle himself in the wilds. To stay one st
ep ahead of those wily rogues and a droog takes some skill. Once one catches a whiff of you, they don’t give up easily.’
Toryn tripped over another exposed tree root. ‘How can I be his son? He seems to be clever and resourceful while I’m… well, who I am.’
‘Don’t be hard on yourself, anyone could have stumbled over that.’
‘But it’s not that, is it! Do I look like him?’
Hamar nodded. ‘You do. You have the same brown eyes and thick, dark hair.’
‘But all the same, I could never be like him.’
‘All in good time. You’re still young, plenty of time to build your strength yet.’
Toryn fixed his eyes on the ground, determined not to trip over again. He walked on in silence and let Hamar hum one of his tunes known only to him. Part of Toryn wanted to turn around and head back. If he was considered dangerous or had power, would the Archon want him in the fight against the enemy? Or… was he the enemy? But what did both the Archon’s men and these shadow creatures want with his father? He could not be a foe to both sides.
A sudden breeze brought the chill of the open into the trees. Hamar stopped. ‘Must be near the end of the wood. I think we’ll stop. Dawn’s almost upon us and it will be light before we reach the cover of trees again.’ He nodded to Toryn’s backpack. ‘May as well eat breakfast, then we’ll sleep and catch something later. I’m sure we’ll find a brock or huckle for supper before long. Well, that’s if the little folk haven’t eaten them all.’
Toryn sighed. ‘Little folk?’
Hamar rummaged in his rucksack. ‘Now where’s that bread?’ He looked up. ‘You’ve heard the stories.’
‘I have… often, all from you. But little folk? Really?’
‘I’ve said it a hundred times, there’s more to this world than we can ever know. It’s all there somewhere in the old stories. Ah, here it is.’ He pulled out a small loaf. ‘You’ve got the cheese in your pack. But just stories, eh? You don’t think they’re all made up, do you?’
