by Paul Lytle
The clergyman, whose name was Rignslin, examined Ayrim, but reported, “I see nothing wrong with the child that a little sleep will not cure.”
“I am glad,” said Barrin, and the Priest took his leave. But the Thane remained with them until both Barrin and Ayrim were fast asleep, and still he remained, watching over those who had fallen quite by chance under his charge.
Chapter 19
The field that surrounded the keep was guarded heavily, with patrols constantly upon the surrounding streets and circling the stone building itself. The only road leading through the yard to the building had two spearmen ever guarding at its source near the center of the town, and only by permission of the Baron or his family or of the Thanes could someone even walk upon that road. Even so, there was a certain peacefulness about the place, perhaps because that field had the largest (or perhaps only) patch of grass within the city walls. It was quieter than the rest of the town, and there seemed no hurry in that place.
Barrin Iylin, the morning following his ride, found himself approaching the castle on that very path leading to the keep. For the first time in days was he without Ayrim, for some of the women in Whesler’s Den were taking care of him that day, but by Barrin’s side was the Thane Gerill Hyte. The young farmer wouldn’t have left Ayrim had it not been for the guards sent by the Baron to vouch for the child’s safety (and everyone in the Whispering Wind vouched for the guards), but that assurance had come, and so he was without his son that morning.
The stone building before him, though large compared to the other structures in town, was considered quite small for a city the size of Saparen. Other castles had much larger keeps, though they were made mostly of wood and clay. It was the mere fact that Saparen had a stone keep that made the building so impressive. Its form was strict, and the rugged stone made the keep seem older than it was. The main section, only two stories in height, was square in the front, with thin windows at the second floor, and a wooden door, reinforced with an iron frame, as the only entrance. Archers waited atop the keep, for it was one of the highest points in the southern area of the town (though some of the inns and Temples were higher still), even if the land there descended rapidly into the lake. From the main section of the keep came two smaller wings, and from the flat peak did the roof slant into them. These sections did have slitted windows about its only floor.
Before the doors was another pair of guards, and they opened the entrance as Hyte approached. Inside, a short and dim hallway emptied into the dining hall. To the very roof did this room reach, with lamps suspended from the ceiling and a wooden balcony that encircled the room. Stairs on both sides of the room reached that second floor, and from there could a person leave through doors on three of the walls (the front wall being the only one without an exit). So too did the lower floor have three exits besides the front door, but they were nearly hidden by the shadows from the balconies. Before the walls were wooden pillars supporting the second story, and before them were long tables on each side. The path that led to the Baron’s dais, therefore, was clear.
Few were in the room on that day. A spearman was at every door, and two flanked the Baron, who sat upon his chair majestically. Baron Dravor Verios was a young man, in his prime physically. His hair flared red, much as his deity’s did, and his beard was groomed and cut short. He was a barrel of a man, built well, but thick. He wore a white shirt, black breeches, and a red cape – simple for a man of his position, but such was Baron Verios. He was considered by some to be overzealous, and sometimes quick to anger, but no one could support a claim that the man was greedy.
Beside him, in a lesser chair, was his young wife, sixteen in years, and burdened by their first child. She was a slight figure, frail enough that childbirth could be a great risk to her and the infant. If Verios was red by his fire, then she was white of ice, and she was generally considered to be a quiet and rather dull person. Also there was present the jester, and though thin, not much more could be deciphered of his appearance, since his face was covered with paint, and also the reeve, who seemed as young as the Baroness, for his beard was fuzz upon his face, and his skin soft and unblemished.
“Iylin,” said the Baron, his voice booming. “Forgive me, friend, I know not your first name.”
The farmer bowed, and with his head down, he replied, “Barrin, sire.”
“Barrin, rise, please,” said Dravor.
The jester giggled. “Baron, did he say? I thought you were the Baron here.”
“No,” corrected the peasant timidly as he stood. “Barrin, like a field might be under a drought, though I am told my name is spelled differently than that word too. I cannot read much myself.”
The jester wrinkled his nose, and said no more.
The nobleman nodded at the explanation and said, “I was pleased to hear that you had arrived. The note from Lord Draffor came before you, though not by much. They had quite a battle, but many of the ern left the town to search for you, and he did not know if you had escaped. It worries me that ern had appeared with the outlaws. I did not yet know of that alliance.”
“It concerned us as well,” said Barrin, his voice soft and quivering.
“What did you say?” asked Verios, though not with anger. The farmer had spoken too softly to be heard by anyone in the room. Iylin repeated himself, and the Baron nodded. “I have word that their forces are gathering again. I do not think it safe that you return to Lanshire.”
“No, I suppose not, sire.”
“You seem worried. Is it because of the Thane with them?”
The peasant stopped breathing. Verios’ reputation was one of an extremely Just man, and only that reputation had persuaded Barrin to go to Saparen after the Thane attacked Lanshire. But still he had been worried that the warrior had not been a rebel, but rather acting under orders, as silly as the suggestion might be.
A quick look at the Baron’s face might have told the farmer how silly a suggestion it was, but instead Iylin looked down, and he said, “You heard of that.”
“We did, Barrin. I assure you that the Thane was not working under my orders. In fact, he wasn’t even a Thane, for a month ago I removed him from his position. I should have imprisoned him, but we had no cause at the time. We suspected much, but I do not jail on suspicions. It was perhaps a mistake in this case, and I am sorry for it.”
Relief washed over Iylin and he looked up to meet his Baron’s gaze. The man was smiling warmly, as though he truly cared about this subject.
The Baron continued, saying, “He was a brute of a man and not much of a warrior. A drunk too. We should be thankful for that also, for a man of subtlety would have drawn you away from the town before attacking. The gods were with you, Barrin. But that was not all, was it?”
The farmer held his breath, but the nobleman seemed to want an answer, so he said, “Those ern. I would swear that they invoked the Absence.”
“Impossible. Ern cannot Invoke, and few men can even Invoke the Absence. But you were weary, perhaps you did not see clearly, or perhaps someone else was there.”
“I do not think so.”
The nobleman put his chin in his hand and grunted. With a nod, he seemed to accept Barrin’s assertion and replied, “Then I will look into it. We will find the truth in time. But let me ask you, Barrin: What will you do now that you have reached our city? Will you stay, or depart?”
Again the answer was slow in coming, and it was not a direct answer to the question, but Barrin said, “I worry for my son, and I do not know what will be the safest path for him.”
“Do you worry that I will ask you to leave the walls for the safety of my city?”
Iylin nodded slightly.
The Baron did as well. “What do you know of me, Barrin?”
“Only what I hear.”
“What have you heard?”
Barrin thought the question over. He replied at last, saying, “Lord Draffor has told me that you are a Just
man, a strong man.”
“I have my faults,” the Baron admitted, “but I have my Virtues as well. I know that Lanshire has no Temple to Ignar, so you might not understand the Ignists well. Surely there are one or two around Lanshire, but I image that they are young in their faith, and perhaps do not understand the ways of our god that well.” Barrin thought of the Drins, and decided that the Baron was likely right. Dravor Verios continued, “We are often too quick to act, so anxious for Justice that we flare about us, sometimes aimlessly. But, Barrin, what we do is done for Justice, even when we make mistakes.”
He stood and approached, and Iylin recoiled a moment, but the look in Dravor’s eyes was not malevolent. He placed a heavy hand on the farmer’s shoulder and said, “No matter the consequences, I will never surrender a man to an ern. No matter if this entire city fell upon my head for it. No matter the consequences, I would never give a child over to murderers. I would sooner the world burn than to see that happen.”
It’s over, Barrin thought.
Chapter 20
A week was Barrin Iylin inside Saparen already, and in most of that time did he and Ayrim share the home of Master Gerill Hyte in the Ignar Den, which was said to be the central section of the city, but which also stretched to the western edge of the town, where the ancient Temple stood. Gerill was not an Ignist, but instead was a Flaran, but the barracks of the Thanes (for those who could not afford their own home within the walls of Saparen) was in Ignar’s Den, and Hyte preferred to be near his friends than farther south in Flarow’s section.
On their first day in the house, the Thane’s servant, a middle-aged woman named Jeslin, all but snatched Ayrim away from Barrin. She loved the child at first sight, and was sorry every time the boy was away from her, even if it was only a moment. Jeslin, as she admitted to Iylin during the week, had wanted a child of her own, and yet found many years before that she was barren. She and her husband therefore lived childless, and yet not without real affection for one another. He had died in an ern attack five years back, so Jeslin moved away from the farmlands and into Saparen, where Hyte hired her as a servant. Ayrim’s presence was like a realized dream for her, having a baby in the house, and she wanted the young boy with her at all times. “Gerill ’isself,” she muttered more than once to the visitor, “won’t ne’er marry, no matter how hard I try t’ convince ’im. ’Ee needs some li’l ones ’round, I say.”
Barrin himself wished to pay for his boarding with silver or labor, but Gerill would not accept. As Jeslin said, the Thane “is devoted t’ Flarow, an’ yet there is much ah Whesler ’n ’im. An’ ah course, no Thane can be wi’out Ignar’s fire ’n ’is blood.”
Iylin would not simply sit inactive in this time. He would help with the cleaning or repairs when Gerill left for patrols, and he could tell that the Thane, though he did not say so, was pleased with the effort.
The man from Lanshire was, by the end of the week, rather comfortable with the city. At first it tempted to overwhelm him, for each of the six dens was, individually, considerably larger than Lanshire. Whesler’s section was in particularly frightening, for the beggars and the mad gathered there because of the nature of the Wheslerans. So there the streets were dirty and crowded, and sickly men were ever after Barrin for a gold piece or a meal. Tianon’s section, on the other hand, was quite well maintained, and the buildings there were large and often braced by stone. While most libraries of the city were located inside Temples, Tianon’s stood apart, a grand building filled with histories, poetry, and philosophies.
Tarite’s Den on the northwest side was rather empty and haunting, but his followers were few, and so it was also the least populated. Oddly, the graveyard behind the God of the Dead’s Temple was by far the smallest of any in Saparen. But then, even though a man’s physical body falls into the arms of Tarite in death (and his soul into Serren’s), ceremony dictates that he is buried at the Temple he attended to in life, and so the few and scattered followers of the deity could not fill Death’s graves as quickly as could the worshipers of the other gods.
Thus did Barrin learn his way about the city, and learned which roads to avoid because of thieves or superstition, and which inns had the best bards and jugglers. He also found the Temple of Serren on the north side, right beside the gate, and found the people there not unlike the people of Lanshire. The Temple was wooden and squat, built wide, though short, to accommodate the followers of the popular goddess. Iylin went to Mass daily once he found the Temple, and one day he ran into the Priest Rignslin Josite, the studious man who had examined Ayrim on the day of the ern chase. The farmer thanked the Priest, and spoke to him for several minutes, and he found Rignslin a kind and caring person. The Priest had a way of calming someone with just a word, and there was a trust in him that was quite engaging.
Yes, by the end of the week, Iylin has well acquainted with Saparen, and considered finding a farm nearby once everything was over. It would be a fine place to live, he decided.
But “everything” was far from over, and rumors of ern began to float about the city. They had been seen often in the area, and seemed to be growing in number. Even Gerill was growing wary, and he avoided any conversation about the beasts.
By the end of that first week, the population of the town had swollen greatly, and Barrin inherently understood what was happening, though little understanding of the ways of the world was needed to decipher this particular puzzle. The people about the country were coming for the protection of the city. They had seen something or heard something and were scared away from their own homes. The number of spearmen at the gate was doubled, as were the archers upon the wall. Barrin didn’t need to know much about battle tactics and defense to understand that either. The ern were in the area, and they were very likely coming.
A week it had been in Saparen before Barrin Iylin asked Gerill about it directly. “Are the ern preparing an attack?”
Gerill nodded, but said nothing.
“How long?”
“Any day now.”
“How many are there against us?”
The Thane looked up, his eyes providing the answer as clearly as his words did. “I don’t know. Several hundred ern, at least a few score men.”
Iylin sat down at the words. Saparen only had a few hundred in its army. That number alone seemed great, and yet so small in comparison to what was coming. “They are coming for Ayrim?”
“Yes,” was the undisguised reply. “Ayrim and a few of the other children who have found refuge here. He is not the only one, but he is one of them. They have sent a message demanding the surrender of the boys. The Baron, of course, will not give them up.”
“It would be, perhaps, best for the city if he did.”
“No, it would not. On this point I agree fully with the Baron. It would be better for everyone here to perish than to give into the ern. Such is a fate worse than death.”
“Cowardice is sometimes said of Flarow.”
“Sometimes.”
“It does not exist in you.”
Gerill grunted. “I have my sins, but I hope that I do not have that one.”
“You should have been an Ignist for your bravery.”
“Perhaps you should have as well. But you are right. Flarow’s Den might oppose us in this, but the others will support us, I believe, and we will fight.”
“What can we do to prevent the war?”
“We have sent word to the King, explaining the situation. He will send reinforcements as soon as he is able. Otherwise, we have recalled the Thanes, and we must hold the town until the King arrives.”
Barrin swallowed hard. He expressed his fears, saying, “The King’s castle is a week away even on the fastest horse. Two weeks or greater for an army on foot.”
Gerill nodded heavily.
Chapter 21
After the Death Wars abated, the new King of Aeresan began the line of Arinsore Kings, and they ruled for more than a century. S
ince so much knowledge was lost in the Wars, the Arinsores were the first Kings that any history text recalled. In those ancient times, the ern were very rarely seen except in the far west, and even there they were few in number. The second Arinsore King, Sarn, perhaps realizing that the beasts might prove to be a problem for the continent over the next four millennia, led his armies to the mountains and deserts across the Sea of Cerinal to help the western kingdom to wipe out the dirty beasts.
And yet, when they arrived, they found that the ern were growing in number faster than anyone, even Sarn, whom history regarded as the first man to recognize the true threat that the ern posed, could have imagined.
The King left the castle in this endeavor in his second year as King. After another year in battle against the ern, he was slain. It took another year before others found his body and brought the word back to the east.
Since that time, the ern had been moving slowly, but steadily, across the land. In time, they took complete control over the country across the Cerinal Sea, a land whose name had long been lost, so was afterward called the Forgotten Kingdom. Also did the ern take a strip of land that ran from the sea toward the east, lying south of the Tower, which the people called the Ern Highway, for it was through that corridor that their forces marched ever east in lust over the kingdoms of men.
Upon the Teriam River, which stretched from the bay of the same name in the south to the White Hills north, was formed the Last Stand, three castles – Asylin, Morylin, and Satyrin – built so near to each other that the trip from the first of the three cities to the last would not take a horseman a week. It was there that the greatest defense against the ern was created, and the castles were ever at war, for they sat upon the very path of the ern, and the only bridges to cross the river stood at the castles. Because they blocked the Ern Highway, those fortresses fought against the ern more than even cities farther west, such as Sedan, which sat upon the coast of the Cerinal Sea, so near to the Forgotten Kingdom.