He was up now. Opening the window for some fresh air and even a slight breeze would help him sleep easier. He stepped over his companion sleeping on the floor easily with his lanky legs. He’d have to thank Mardun for that. It was, after all, Kiern’s turn to sleep on the floor.
He slowly opened the window, trying to avoid any creaks that would wake the others. A gentle breeze entered the room. He looked out. Besides the lack of wind, it wasn’t so different from Yalea, at least at this time of year. Summers were unbearable in Euparyen, and the heat was only made worse by the stifling air and insects. It wasn’t as cold in the south of Cerenea, but it was just as peaceful out under the stars, away from the towns. Yelia had not abandoned her southern children. The forest was just as alive with wildlife as the northern wilds, and the chorus was as beautiful as back home, though a slightly different tune. He could almost hear Her voice amongst the trees and the flowing river. I can sleep now, he thought, as he headed back to his bed.
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Pyres and Galaces grew and grew. Though she gave them plenty of room to play, her two children were coming of age, and as sons are wont to do, they began argue and fight. They vied for their mother’s love, and though she had plenty to give, they sometimes did not listen. Yelia had to teach them to respect each other, despite their growing differences. She divided The Gift between the two of them, so that they may learn to share.
Gavyn of Taurig - Histories
The Karzarki
“Let’s make camp here for the night, Yaren,” Rhen said as more of a question than anything else. There was a small clearing slightly off the road, and it looked to be well used by travellers. There were the remains of a campfire, and a bucket that someone had left behind, perhaps as courtesy for the next group to come along.
“You’ve a lot to learn about travelling boy. I don’t know how you survived on your own, but I’ll put it down to the good-hearted nature of the Karzarki people. But as we head east, the roads will become more dangerous, and you’ll want to be more careful where you set up camp. Camp in a place like this and you may as well slit your own throat and save the rebels the trouble. But we are only two days ride out of Mhir, so aye, this place will do for now.”
Of course, Yaren couldn’t just agree without a little bit of rebuke thrown in for good measure. To his credit though, every day Rhen rode with him, he seemed more of a grizzled veteran, a wealth of experience – experience that could have made his previous adventure much easier.
And though Yaren had a prickly personality, he had known him for years and was the most reliable man in all of Karzark. But Rhen would be a boy a while longer, at least in Yaren’s eyes. Probably even after all his hair turned grey. No, he thought. You’re twenty-two years, a man fully grown. A boy no more.
“I’ll fetch some water for the horses and for a meal, I trust you to have a fire going by the time I’m back old man.”
“Yelia watch over you boy, else you’ll find my boot wedged between your ribs. You’ll gather us up some kindle while you’re at it,” Yaren replied brusquely as he grabbed his hand-axe and headed into the tree line to bring back some firewood while Reilek went about unpacking the horses.
It was certainly more pleasant with three people setting up camp than just himself for company. He’d take the harrying from well-seasoned grumpy men over having to set up camp and travel alone any day.
As day yielded to night, they gathered around the fire. Yaren brought over a stump to sit on and broke out a flask. “Bring the map and sit down, boy. We need to discuss where we must cross the Togris. The rebels destroyed the bridge before they retreated back to their burrows.” He gestured for Rhen to spread the map out on a flat piece of ground near the fire.
Reilek walked up to the map and pointed. “We are here, two day’s travel from Braest. There is a ford north of here, half a day’s trek through the forest. It’s closer than the ford to the south, though admittedly it would be easier riding. Might be easier on a boy,” Reilek teased, seeming to have picked up on Yaren’s pestering. Yaren sniggered as he took a swig from the flask and passed it to Reilek.
“I will ignore your tripe. Let us head through the forest. We’ll save time, and it’s not like I haven’t experienced worse the past few months. In fact, I’m more concerned on the toll it would have on Yaren – all that woodcutting you did must have you exhausted.”
“I still have enough energy to put you into the ground, boy,” came the expected rebuttal, “Right then, we ride on the road as far east as the Stoney Inn, then head into the forest. It’ll be the shortest distance through the trees. It’ll save the horses too.”
Reilek handed the flask back to Yaren. Rhen noticed a large scar on his hand. “That looks rather painful,” he said, pointing to his hand.
“This? It was an oath to an old friend. Looks worse than it felt. The one on my back however…well you should see the other bastard,” Reilek laughed as he walked to a nearby tree to relieve himself. Though no more than thirty feet away, the combination of firelight and Reilek’s black attire had all but rendered him one with the night.
“So,” Yaren said as he added more wood to the fire, bringing back Rhen’s attention to the light, “you disappear for two and a half months with nought even a word, and then come back claiming you know where the Dawn Shield is. And to me, who had wondered and worried about you, you ask me to trust you to not only lead us to this so-called treasure half way across the world, but also trust you enough to not have us killed on our way. Forgive me for asking but, I will need more than just your word you’ve solved this puzzle where the Khasari have yet to succeed.”
Rhen looked at Yaren over the fire. Perhaps he had hurt the old man more than he would let on. It was a long time, and without even a word.
“You’re right. I’m sorry Yaren. I should have told you. I just wanted to leave quietly. I found myself whisked away by my father on another delivery of wine to a lord in Desaris. As you well know, I do not care for becoming a travelling merchant. Yet, on my father’s orders I set off for what was expected to be a week on the road. But on the way, something changed in me.”
Yaren’s face was stern, demanding more to the story, specifically an answer to his question. Rhen hadn’t told anyone about his journey yet, and he needed to get it off his chest, even to someone who didn’t care for details. So, he continued.
“At an oasis a day’s ride from Desaris, I told the caravan I was feeling exhausted and asked they continue without me and to come meet me back here in two days. And so they left to complete their journey. I intended to stay at that oasis, and just wander about. I found myself with this newfound freedom, borrowed for only two days. It wasn’t enough. I paid the innkeeper to tell them when they returned that I had already left for home the day before and that I’d see them back in Braest. I knew they’d be worried and would likely face consequences upon their own return, but I was not in a mood to care. I left the oasis and went to get myself lost amongst the land and find myself.”
Rhenias took the flask from Yaren. He took a large drag and coughed. Cheap. Whoever called sold this as whiskey should be ashamed of themselves. “I chanced upon the ruins of a temple, about half a day’s ride from the oasis, almost entirely covered by sand. It was there I found that stone tablet I told you about. After I read that, I spent the next two months searching for more ruins.”
Yaren’s interest perked up. “So, you found a tablet, a mere half-day’s ride from a well-travelled oasis. And what did this tablet say; why is it so important?”
“Do you know where the heart of Old Pyresia was?”
Yaren shifted around the stump and sighed. “Come on Rhen, drop the pretentiousness. You know as well as I do it was in Tannis.”
“Sorry, and yes. But it didn’t start there. The capital moved around a lot and…but it’s said its origins are where the Desari now lays. Anyway, it was a Pyresian old temple. It wasn’t Euphyrian and it definitely wasn’t Karzarki. We only e
stablished ourselves this far after the war. I have travelled around Euphyria quite a bit, with my father’s merchants and the like, but I’ve never seen something Pyresian without Euphyrian influence. Not to mention the symbols were definitely Pyresian.”
“What, and you can read them now can you?” Yaren threw another log into the fire.
“You know me, I always had an interest in old things. Consider me a noble historian with merchant roots. It’s why you aren’t still in Mhir, face down in your cups. You’re welcome, by the way.”
Yaren threw a twig at him. “Sounds like a treasure hunter to me.”
Rhen ignored him. “Yes, I know how to read Pyresian. I studied it whenever I was on the road. Seeing all the sights as a boy was rather boring if you didn’t have the history to go with it. Anyway, you’re getting me off topic. This tablet was old, but it wasn’t nearly as old as the temple. Judging by the engravings of the walls and pillars, they had endured centuries more worth of erosion. The style of writing was also different. Yet it was definitely Pyresian.”
“And how do you know that, boy? If you learnt Pyresian, six hundred years after the Conquest, what rules out it was another adventurous Karzarki back in the day, dragging around an old poor bastard looking for treasure?”
Yaren signalled for the flask, and Rhen tossed it over to him. “Just trust me, will you? I spent two months finding a bunch of other things. I know it’s authentic.”
“So, answer my question. How do you know? What did it say?” Yaren chucked the flask back to Rhen.
So Rhen told him.
A noble union with legion’s steel,
A heart to deny and to heal
Yaren straightened up.
“Yelia’s tits, Rhen. Do you know what that means?”
“It’s the Dawn Shield. It’s the pairing of the Euphyrian legions’ steel swords and the shield. Of course, there was more. I wouldn’t have been able to work out where it is just from that. Information for ascertaining the whereabouts, I think, would be best left to me. I spent two months searching, not a day.”
“Why are you so confident the Khasari haven’t also come across it? You said yourself the Khasari are searching for it.”
“Well, it was buried in sand, under what could only be a temple housing a statue of Yelia. The statue had collapsed, and I didn’t recognise the architecture. It must be Pyresian. There were no footprints, no indication anyone had uncovered anything from that temple. And before you ask, in case anyone was to uncover my footprints, I spent a good hour chiselling away at that tablet. No one is going to find it of use anymore.”
“That doesn’t mean they haven’t found clues. You said yourself it wasn’t just the temple in the Desari. I know you. You don’t destroy artefacts like a common bandit. They might know more than you think. Anyway, that doesn’t answer why they are searching for it.”
“You are correct, and I don’t know why, but I told you, I spent two months looking in the right places. The right places aren’t easy to find. They don’t know where to start.”
Yaren’s head tilted to the right. A tiny smile formed. “And we have only your memory to guide us?”
Rhen returned the smirk. He pulled a note from his pocket. “You think I’d let something like this fade away with my memory? I can’t remember what I ate last night. No, I copied it down.”
“Oh-ho, you’re smarter than I gave you credit for. I doubt you’ve stopped the Khasari from finding the location, but you’ve certainly bought yourself some time, boy. For that, I’ll give you what little information I have.”
“Go on.”
If someone were to look Yaren over, they would see a seasoned sellsword who stinks of booze and likes the sight of money and women. If they were to come to know the man, they would find him a seasoned sellsword who stinks of booze and likes the site of money and women. However, despite his demeanour and appearance, a seasoned sellsword is a well-travelled sellsword, and a well-travelled sellsword was bound to know a thing or too.
“From what you said the other night in the tavern, you are one of two things. You are holding information from me that you think I don’t know, or, despite your galivanting around, you know very little of what you seek.”
“I must admit,” stumbled Rhen, “I’m a bit taken aback. I’ve asked you to accompany me on a journey into the far east of Euphyria. You have taken a great risk in doing so, and you think I would repay your kindness with deception?”
Yaren rubbed his face. “You said it was worth a fortune. Of gold.”
“It is,” said Rhen defensively.
“It’s more than that. Come on, you’ve spent two months chasing this thing and you’re ahead of the bloody Khasari, and you can’t see what’s right in front of you? You’re not that green, are you? That inscription. Where else have you seen something like that?”
“As far as I can recall, I’ve only searched two months for the Dawn Shield, not other treasures. I think I would know if I came across something else like it.”
“Think, boy. What defines Karzark?
Twelve loyal generals, by their blade,
A brother slain, a future made
Our Caranaum. And the Dawn Shield is the bloody Caranaum of Euphyria.”
Rhen sat there in silence for a moment. He’d miscalculated. How could he have not worked that out, after all his digging?
Yaren’s remorseful chuckle did little to abate the disappointment in his voice. “Sure, it’s worth a fortune. But of all of Euphyria’s treasures, you chose this one. The only treasure Karzark would kill to get its hands on.”
He took a large swig. “It can’t be. It predates Euphyria. It’s Pyresian. The Elders do not have Caranaum. Yelia gave them to the Youngers to help them overthrow the Elders. Caranaum have nothing to do with Pyresian artefacts.”
“Karzark’s blades predated Karzark. They’re said to have been the swords of Galascean nobles first. They were only given their power later. The Dawn Shield would be no different. Some historian you are.”
He was right. This heightened the stakes…but also the reward.
“You knew the moment I mentioned it last night. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You had searched two months. You would have been disheartened if I told you then and there what it was,” he said, dry as kindle, “and because now, knowing that the journey is more dangerous than first discussed, my price has gone up.”
“Well played, my dear friend. Perhaps you’re in the wrong career. Speak to my father about a job.”
Reilek came back from the trees and grabbed the flask from Rhen taking one last swig, before tipping it upside down until the last drop came out. “Why are you two still up? We have a long ride tomorrow. Rest while you can. I will soon have a comfortable bed waiting for me in Braest, hopefully with a woman to warm it up. You won’t. I’ll keep watch and you can consider it my payment. But it’ll be your turn from tomorrow.”
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Pleased with her maturing children, Yelia gave life to four new brothers: Karzarke, Euphyrius, Taer’lea, and Yaleartes. Though they were not the first of Yelia’s children, time would prove them strongest. The younger brother nations played amongst themselves and grew strong.
The Yalean
It was the most uneventful day they endured since embarking on this mission. Kiern couldn’t complain about the timing. He was well and truly beat from all the marching, and a day’s reprieve was certainly welcomed.
Staying awake was difficult, especially remaining indoors as per the orders of the Commander. It was a shame – it was a beautiful day. A westerly breeze had picked up from the afternoon and now swept through the trees nearby. The sea of green was much lighter than the forests back home. The wildlife too, was more docile here. Good for travellers, but it weakened those who dwelled here, their unsuspecting complacency their detriment.
Despite the scenery Yelia offered them, Kiern wanted to be looking up at a ceiling from a bed. To further exace
rbate his predicament, he had been ordered to take first watch. A long night would follow a long day. Tomorrow would probably be just as bad. Mardun didn’t give up his bed for free. Half a watch at least, he wagered.
Don’t fall asleep, focus on something. He was standing outside the front of the building. A beautiful night to end a beautiful day: not a cloud in the sky. Just a million stars shining brightly, a million stories untold.
About halfway through his watch, he spotted a lone figure walking up the road. Purposeful steps, a hood over his face; the man was wary of his surroundings. A dagger on his left hip, concealed, though it was probably more that the man let him see the hilt between his strides than it was Kiern’s keen eye that caught a glimpse of the metal in the moonlight. It was a good thing the man approached from Kiern’s right then, he thought, for if it came down to it, he would strike first with his own dagger he had smuggled into his right sleeve that had been at his back. As the man came closer, he raised his left hand in greeting, all the while cautiously watching his movements. Though he was on watch, this was not a castle to call his own, and other travellers were permitted to enter.
“Evening friend.” Short and simple. Enough to sound friendly, but without encouraging any further conversation.
“The wolves have been quiet. I wonder if they’re trailing their prey.”
Kiern corrected his posture. “You scared the shit out of me. Come on, this way. The captain is waiting inside.”
The man handed his two daggers to Kiern before continuing inside. Yelia show mercy, he thought, taking the daggers with slightly shaking hands. Perhaps tomorrow would be more interesting after all.
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Reign of Phyre Page 3