It was dark, only the brilliance of the stars and the low burning red of his little fire providing illumination. At first he wasn’t even entirely sure where he was, but then he felt the warmth from the dying embers of his fire.
Jonas sat up, and only then realized he had been lying down. He looked down at the bedroll wrapped around him and found that while he had been suspended in the Archanium, Aleksei had put him to bed.
Now the Knight sat a pace away, his eyes alert in the dark night.
“Aleksei?” Jonas asked softly, wincing at the brittleness of his voice.
“Yes?”
“I don’t suppose there’s any of that rabbit left, is there?”
Aleksei chuckled and shifted from where he sat on his bedroll. Then he leaned over to Jonas and offered him small, shadowy object. Jonas realized a moment before his hand closed around the bottom of it that it was one of the spits.
“Thank you.” he murmured before tearing into the cold rabbit.
It was practically flavorless, of course, but Jonas hardly cared. He ate every scrap he could find in the darkness and then tossed the remains onto the pile of coals just a pace away.
“Better?” Aleksei asked from the darkness.
“Much.”
“Good, now get some sleep.”
Jonas frowned as he lay back down. There was something in Aleksei’s voice that worried him. Gods, how he wondered what Darielle had told the Knight to make him so pensive.
True sleep took him the moment his head touched the bedroll.
The next few days passed without much change. Aleksei remained just as reserved, though no less alert. Jonas began to feel edgy as they neared the Relvyn Wood. The days passed to completion, and yet they encountered no one, which was not to say there were no signs of life. As traffic on the eastern road had dwindled, Aleksei had picked up on something far more intriguing.
The road was far more heavily travelled, primarily from men on foot, than warranted any proper explanation this late into Harvest, especially this close to the Wood. Aleksei spent a great deal of time scouting the road and the surrounding woodland, confirming his suspicions.
In the past several weeks, a great many men, many wearing Legion-issued boots, had used this road, each and every one of them seeming to have the same destination in mind.
But by noon of the seventh day the Relvyn Wood finally came into view. And with it, a very perplexing sight.
“Is that…” Jonas began.
Aleksei nodded, answering before Jonas had finished, “Drava.”
Jonas could hardly believe his eyes. What he had left behind as a battle-ravaged village of foresters and herdsmen had been completely transformed in the weeks since their departure. A stout wall of spiked wooden posts now protected the village, a sturdy gate opening periodically to admit a shepherd and his flock, or a villager off on some errand or another.
They approached the gates by mid-afternoon. A sentry looked down at them from the guard tower, “State your business.”
“Lord Captain Aleksei Drago. I’m here to address the people of your village.”
“About what?” the sentry demanded.
Aleksei’s eyes narrowed, “The nature of your defenses. Now open the gate.”
“I must apologize, Lord Captain,” the man said the title as though it was an alien sound on his tongue, “but we cannot open our gate to you without the approval of the village council.”
“And why not?” Aleksei asked, now frowning in confusion. “What are you watching for?”
The sentry looked unsure, “Spies.”
“Spies, soldier?” Aleksei spoke the honorific contemptuously.
“Aye, spies.” the sentry said, sounding more and more uncertain with each passing moment. “From the North?”
If Aleksei had been confused before, he was now calm as death itself. Jonas decided it was better if he simply didn’t say anything at all.
Aleksei looked meaningfully at his Magus. Jonas heard the command as though Aleksei had shouted, even though the Knight hadn’t uttered a word.
He sighed.
Something was definitely wrong with Aleksei. He was generally much more lenient with words. Actions were always a last resort.
Nevertheless, Jonas knew what he wanted.
He reached into the Archanium and touched a particularly nasty region of the Great Sphere, deep within the chaotic rage of the Nagavor, channeling his intent towards the wooden gate.
There was a brilliant flash. The gate was outlined in purple light for a split second, and then it was gone, leaving only a wisp of ash and smoke.
Aleksei gave the gaping sentry a cursory glance, “Thank you.”
And then he rode Agriphon into the middle of the village green, waiting patiently for Jonas, for the people of Drava, to join him.
Jonas sat atop his horse, listening to the reactions of the people around him. It seemed that while a few recognized Aleksei, the vast majority were confused as to who this man was and just how he’d demolished their gate.
“Now just a minute!” a young man cried, pushing past people gathered on the green and marching up to Aleksei, his eyes narrowed. “Just who do you think you are, marching into our village like this?”
Aleksei glowered down at the man, “I’m the Lord Captain of Her Majesty’s Legion. You are?”
“I…I’m the mayor.” the man stammered.
“And tell me, why have you surrounded your town with a wall? Who are you defending Drava from?”
The mayor looked as though he were about to cry, “F…From the invaders from the North.”
“By ‘invaders’ I take it you mean the Legions of Ilyar.” Aleksei said coolly.
“That…that’s right.” the mayor squeaked.
Aleksei glared at the man. He looked to be just over twenty summers. The Knight studied the mayor for a long moment, then looked up to the crowd of people gathered before him.
“People of Drava,” he bellowed, “this will be your only warning. If you stand in opposition to the Crown you will be defeated. Your rebellion is gross ingratitude for the protection provided to you by the Crown, and by me.
“I take this act of rebellion as an affront against all that I have fought for. I have risked my life for you and you repay me with treason?”
“What will do you, then?” shouted a man from the crowd, “Cut us all down right now?”
The crowd started to laugh, but the terrible anger in Aleksei’s eyes silenced them, “No, I won’t cut you down. You’ve proven yourselves unworthy of my blade. I’ll instead deliver you a harsher fate. I will leave you to suffer the due consequences of your actions.
“Those who want a life beyond this village should leave now. By the end of this ‘rebellion’, one of us will be proven right, the other wrong. But know this, people of Drava. If you should survive this war and I am proven the victor, I will not be merciful.”
With that, Aleksei turned Agriphon around and spurred him into a gallop. Jonas followed, his face as impassive as Aleksei’s. The same absolute rage that burned in Aleksei’s heart now surged in his own.
He was at once surprised and pleased that Aleksei had recognized Drava’s fortifications for what they were. Jonas had merely grasped that Drava was preparing for the coming war. But Aleksei had always understood common people better than he had.
They were out of Drava in seconds. After half a league Aleksei slowed Agriphon, then redirected him towards the Wood. Jonas followed, hoping that when they reached the forest, Aleksei would slow down and give his Magus some indication of what was going through his head.
A moment after they’d reached the tree line, Aleksei slowed Agriphon to a trot. Jonas caught up to him and glanced at his Knight. Anger was still etched into the man’s face, but Jonas could sense it softening across the bond.
“What will happen to them?” Jonas asked after a long while.
Aleksei did not divert his eyes from
the path, “I gave them fair warning. If they listen, they’ll leave. The rest will stay. And then Relvyn will swallow them. They will wake one morning to find their houses gone, their precious wall reclaimed. And then they will wander through the forest, searching for food and water, yet finding neither until all are dead.”
“Do you think that’s fair?” Jonas asked carefully.
“It’s just.” Aleksei responded.
Jonas nodded to himself, understanding that right now it was best not to argue with his Knight. After all, Aleksei was not only operating in his capacity as the Lord Captain, but also as the Hunter of the Wood. Aleksei had told him of the Relvyn Wood’s strange connection to the Seil, and how the Seil had beseeched him to protect Relvyn.
“How deep is this Wood?” Aleksei asked suddenly.
Jonas frowned, “I’m not exactly sure. I flew over most of it the last time I was here, but I would guess somewhere around fifty leagues?”
Aleksei brought Agriphon to a halt. Jonas did likewise, then looked questioningly at his Knight.
“At this rate it will take us days to travel fifty leagues.” Aleksei said calmly. “We need to get there faster. I’m not sure we have days at this point.”
Jonas nodded, not bothering to ask how Aleksei planned to get them there “faster”. In this Wood, Aleksei was in his element. All Jonas could do was follow diligently and hope not to get lost in the process.
Aleksei looked around for a moment, seeming to take in the trees, the underbrush, the sounds and smells of the Relvyn Wood. And then he spoke.
“Father Wood, we are in haste. Take us to your eastern border so that we might fulfill our mission and return to our home.”
Jonas listened carefully, waiting for something to happen, but Relvyn remained motionless.
He realized Aleksei was watching him and he smiled, “Shall we proceed?”
Aleksei opened his mouth as though to speak, but then seemed to think better of it. Jonas sighed and rode next to his Knight, ever deeper into the Wood.
They rode for several minutes in absolute silence, during which Jonas looked about, trying to discern their location. If the Wood had responded to Aleksei’s request they would soon find themselves at the edge of the mountains. If, however, this forest was not quite as attuned to Aleksei’s voice as the Seil Wood, then they were in for a very long ride.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind when a bend in the path brought them in view of the forest’s edge.
Aleksei smiled to himself, whispering a thanks to the Wood as they approached the rugged chalk path that lead to the Drakleyn.
“We’ll leave the horses here.” Aleksei said, dismounting and tying off Agriphon’s reins so they wouldn’t get tangled in his absence.
The Prince dismounted and did the same, though he was less than pleased at the prospect of hiking several miles of mountain terrain.
Aleksei fixed him with an arresting golden glare, “Jonas, it might be better for you to assume another form. It will be much easier to explain a lone man going in and out of camp. Two might be a bit trickier.”
Jonas chuckled to himself, ignoring Aleksei’s dour demeanor. “Any suggestions?”
“Something useful.”
The Magus blinked at the response, then closed his eyes. He considered the shape of a coyote for a moment, but then decided that he would be too easily recognized if he ran into Bael or Krasik.
Then he had an idea.
Reaching into the Archanium, Jonas fixed the image in his mind, then envisioned himself melting into the new form. He clutched at the Archanium, pulling it around himself and willing his body to change.
Nothing.
Again, Jonas gripped the spellform and forced the image in his mind to conform to his desire. After a few aborted attempts, Jonas finally managed to transform thought into action.
When he opened his eyes, Aleksei was staring at the small mountain pony that was his Magus in staggered surprise. Jonas smiled, shivering at the odd feeling that prickled across his flesh. Aleksei actually laughed for the first time in days.
“Well, it won’t be the first time I’ve ridden you.”
Jonas shrugged, which translated as violently shaking his enormous head. Aleksei turned to Agriphon, removing a few supplies from his saddlebags. Then, still looking greatly amused, he climbed onto Jonas' back.
“Still,” the Knight said into his ear, “better not let anyone get too close to us. I’m not sure I could explain a pony with green eyes.”
Jonas chuckled, then glanced at the two horses. Agriphon was regarding him contemptuously, as though his very presence was an insult to the beautiful warhorse.
He resisted the urge to nip at the stallion as he trotted past and out onto the trail. The day was wearing on, but Jonas knew it would be a long time before either of them was allowed to rest again.
CHAPTER 38
The Drakleyn
AS THE ROAD wound up through the pass, the air grew cooler. Aleksei found himself wishing he’d brought something heavier than his light leather coat.
Jonas plodded along steadily, keeping his thoughts to himself, which suited Aleksei just fine. For his part, Aleksei had quite enough to think about without having to balance his thoughts against conversation.
His encounter with the Prophet Darielle a week before had left him shaken. Her dark portents haunted him, and it was all he could do to focus on the task at hand.
Aleksei had been around prophets before. Aya had delivered prophecy in his presence, and he had been none the worse for it. But his experience with Darielle had been very different indeed. When she spoke the words, Aleksei saw images in his head. He would have shared her visions with Jonas if he thought it would do any good.
But he knew better.
No, the fewer people who saw Darielle’s visions the better. Aleksei wasn’t even sure he believed most of them. After all, he had heard similar predictions from doomsayers in the city squares. It didn’t take much talent to predict a gloom-ridden future for a realm on the verge of civil war.
But Aleksei had the sneaking suspicion that her words rang true. Why else would she seek him out so specifically? Why not tell Jonas? Why him?
As they ascended higher into the mountains the air became thinner, and colder. His doubts receded with the vegetation. Snow began to fall after an hour of climbing, and Aleksei began to worry for his Magus.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked, speaking into Jonas' ear.
“If I get any warmer I might catch fire. I know you might be catching a chill up there, but I’m climbing a mountain and carrying a husky farm boy.” the pony responded crossly.
Aleksei sat back, trying to restrain his laughter.
The silence returned and his mirth faded. Aleksei found himself suddenly thirsty. The comforts of palace life had caused him to forget how dry the air was in the biting cold.
He drank from one of the waterskins, then dropped back sullenly into his thoughts.
“Your Mantle is fierce indeed. Such a shame you don’t truly wield it. The Demon’s fires will rage all around you, but you won’t put out one fire by igniting another. It will take your very last breath to finally drown it all in an ocean of blood. But when it crashes down upon you, promise me Aleksei Drago, promise me you will swim. Promise me you will run.”
He winced as the images accompanying the words crashed through his mind unbidden. The screams of men filled his ears. They pleaded with him, but the Mantle drank them in anyways. He could smell men burning as he ran from the encroaching flames of the Demon’s wrath. It was almost more than he could bear, but he forced himself onwards.
Aleksei shook his head violently as the visions vanished in their completion. No! No, there had to be a way to prevent that. Aleksei knew the visions for what they represented. It was the fall of Kalinor. It was the slaughter of his men at the hands of Bael and all his dark magics. And it was proof of his own cowardice in the face of danger.
He closed his eyes against the fading afterimages, but he couldn’t rid his mind of the screaming, or the stench. It was as though Darielle had etched it into his mind so that he could never forget, as long as he lived.
“Aleksei?”
Jonas' voice brought Aleksei back to the present with a jolt and he opened his eyes. For a moment he was confused as he stared out into the horizon. The Relvyn Mountains soared into the distance for leagues before finally succumbing to the Autumn Sea. Then he realized that Jonas' head was directed not ahead, but below them.
Aleksei craned his neck over the edge of the path and almost fell off Jonas' back. Before them the mountain sloped down into a gentle valley. Rising against the opposite cliff were the shattered remains of the most threatening structure Aleksei had ever seen.
The Drakleyn.
But worse by far was the sight of what awaited them beneath the Drakleyn’s imposing edifice. Rows upon rows of white triangular tents pitched in perfect Legionnaire form. Thousands of them.
“How many do you think there are?” Jonas asked in choked disbelief.
Aleksei thought of all the reports he’d heard of Legionnaires abandoning their posts to rally around Krasik’s banner. He had hoped that a majority of those were men returning to their homes to defend against the inevitable fight. Now he knew just how mistaken he’d been.
“I…I don’t know. If they’re following standard Legion practice there are four men to each tent. So I would estimate their force at around seventy or eighty thousand.”
“And how many troops do you command?”
Aleksei realized that he didn’t actually know. He hadn’t returned to Kalinor since the desertions began. The only force whose size he was even remotely certain of any more was Rysun’s.
“At present, only thirty-one thousand I can count on. Twenty-six with Rysun, and five in Kalinor.”
“I’m sure there are more than that who retain their loyalties.” Jonas said, but the doubt in his voice was heavy.
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