“I’m not sure,” Aiden replied after a moment to consider. “I haven’t known her very long and yes, I’m sure that my efforts to rescue her on more than one occasion have swayed her feelings for me. Sometimes she’s just a cheeky, spoilt girl, but other times…”
“She’s a princess, born to rule people like you and me,” Robert finished for him. “Let me spell it out for you. Criosa needs to marry a prince, and she needs to start having babies right away, because if the king dies while he’s at war and Criosa is killed or injured on this little expedition she insisted on joining, that’s the end of the Roebec line.”
“So, your point is that she can’t be interested in me, because her first priority is to secure the throne for her family,” Aiden finished succinctly.
“You’re a toy, a diversion while she waits to meet whomever her father wants to marry her off to,” Robert said, leaning back in his chair and puffing on his cigar. “She might be having fun with all that flirting, but nothing serious can happen between you, and she knows it.”
Aiden didn’t reply, for Robert’s words had struck a chord with him. His feelings for Criosa were indeed mixed. The resulting complications from a dalliance with the sole heir to the throne put her seemingly harmless flirting in a new light. Seeking to regain the offensive in the conversation, Aiden abruptly changed topic.
“That’s a nasty scar you have there,” he observed. “It’s a pity that relic didn’t save your eye as well as your life.” Robert gazed at him shrewdly, a half-smile on his lips.
“It was the best money I ever spent,” he replied. “The man who sold it to me didn’t inform me of any specifics on how it worked, mind you. Still, I’m alive, and that’s what counts.”
“What happened to you on that day, when we left you on the battlefield?” Aiden asked, leaning forward with genuine interest. Robert’s smile faded as he thought back to that time.
“You mean after that bloody sorceress fell from the sky and almost took my head off? After your blond friend shoved his knife into my neck? After you left me to die?”
“Yes, roughly around then,” Aiden clarified with just a little sarcasm.
“I vaguely remember bleeding out,” Robert explained in a hollow voice, “and I was cold… so cold. The pain went away and I felt peace for a moment, but only a moment. A shock went through my body, and I felt my heart restart and begin pounding away. The worst of my wounds closed, and clarity returned.”
“I was still a wreck and my left eye was completely gone. I could hear Azurefang fighting the defenders of Culdeny and I thought for a moment we might actually win. When she fled, I knew I had to get out of there. So, I ran to the east, hoping to reconnect with some of my second line reserves, but you and yours had seen to it that none were left.”
“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Aiden drawled.
“I kept going,” Robert continued with a level stare. “The weather took a turn for the worse and I had no supplies, but I had to keep moving. I dropped my armour and travelled for another day before I reached Azurefang back in the mountain pass, and thought I’d finally made it.”
“The bitch didn’t lift a claw to help me,” the mercenary growled bitterly. “I was supposed to eliminate the town defenders and give her a clear run to burn Culdeny to the ground, but since I’d failed, she’d suffered for it at the hands of those archers and that damned ship that showed up out of nowhere.”
“She must have been angry with you, to say the least,” Aiden remarked. “How are you still alive?”
“Azurefang may be crazy, but she has a code, and she follows it to the letter,” Robert explained, drawing a long breath on the cigar. “Part of the arrangement was that she wouldn’t harm me in any way, but it never said anything about her helping me directly, either. So, she sat back and licked her wounds, while I staggered past, starving to death.”
“I’m really trying, but I just can’t seem to generate any sympathy for you,” Aiden sneered.
“Didn’t ask for any,” Robert said with a shrug. “Anyway, somehow, I managed to keep moving for another day, until I collapsed near a frozen river. The next thing I knew, I was lying in a warm bed in some monastery in the mountains, my wounds healed.”
“The Keepers of the Light,” Aiden recalled. “I think they were obligated to assist you, even if they did realise who you were and what you had done.”
“Lucky me,” Robert replied dryly. “No, I actually mean that — I spent the last couple of months with them, hiding out as my scars healed, both physically and mentally. The abbot had some interesting observations to make concerning my character, which I ignored at first. The thing about being stuck in a monastery in the mountains is you’ve got a lot of time to think.”
“So, you came back to civilisation a reformed man, ready to make amends for his sordid past?” Aiden chided. “Please tell me you don’t think we’re that naïve.”
“I had fully intended to count my blessings and walk away,” Robert continued in a measured voice. “Not many people get a second chance, certainly not in my line of work. Then something happened that opened my eyes.”
“One night, a platoon of dwarven soldiers came staggering into the monastery, beat-up and bloodied from a major battle. I didn’t need to hear any details to know they’d just come from fighting the dragon. I kept well hidden when I saw that a few of your friends were in amongst them, because I knew exactly how they’d react if I showed my face.”
“Seeing that group of soldiers made me realise the consequences of my actions were ongoing, and it was affecting people and families I’d never expected to.” When Robert had finished speaking, a thought occurred to Aiden.
“I don’t know how many true healers the Keepers have in their ranks, but Nellise mentioned they were still able to treat a couple dozen wounded dwarves well enough,” Aiden said to the mercenary. “They could have had you back on your feet within a few days of arriving. If you knew the dragon was such a problem, why have you waited until now to do something about it? If you’re so sure she’ll just fly away at your command, why haven’t you done it already?”
“Because the moment I release her from the contract, I’m pretty sure she’s going to eat me,” Robert explained dourly. “She’s harbouring a powerful resentment after the disaster at Culdeny, and she’s just biding her time until I show up, and if I delay much longer, she’s likely to just hunt me down anyway. And yes, she knows I’m still alive. She has some sort of magic that lets her know.”
He speaks of a blood contract, Salinder confirmed in Aiden’s mind.
“So, you either needed an army, or a group of people that have faced off against dragons before to save your backside,” Aiden stated coldly. “You twisted the truth of this, Black — we might have to fight Azurefang after all.”
You will not, Salinder growled, but Aiden ignored it.
“Maybe,” Robert responded. “One way or another, she’ll be gone and the pass will be clear. I know you probably won’t believe this, but it matters to me that I clean up my mess. Those monks at the monastery have been through a lot worse in their lives and yet managed to swallow their pride and make up for past mistakes in acts of charity and the like. I freely admit, it was a bad move on my part to get involved with Bartlett and the North Shore Trading Company, but I plan to make things right, somehow... if you’ll let me.”
“Alright, I’ve heard enough,” Pacian snarled suddenly as he swaggered over to their table from his place at the bar. “I’ve been listening to you bleat on about this and that, with no bloody idea what you’re talking about. Do you even realise what you did, attacking Culdeny like that? You and that crazy bitch dragon of yours killed hundreds of people.”
“Easy, Pace,” Aiden counselled.
“Shut up, Aiden,” his inebriated friend snapped. Glancing over at the bottle of brandy, Aiden was astonished to see it less than half full already. Some of the nearby patrons, mostly stout, bearded dwarven men, turned to find out what the commotion was a
bout. “You honestly think you can make amends for everything you’ve done, Black? How many years have you been a mercenary? How many?”
“If you think I’m going to help your argument—” Robert asserted, but was cut off by Pacian.
“Twenty years? Twenty-five?” he persisted, staggering closer to the table. “I’d wager you have no idea how many innocents you’ve killed in your bloody campaigns.” Robert slowly stood up, his eye locked on Pacian with unflinching intensity.
“I wasn’t suggesting I’m a changed man, only that I can direct my efforts in more constructive ways,” Robert growled as he moved around the table to face Pacian directly. “Mercenaries may be the lowest rung of military life, but that life’s my own. Bartlett convinced me attacking Culdeny was going to pay off and like a fool, I listened. I won’t make that mistake again — you’ve got my word on that.”
“You think you’re a soldier?” Pacian drawled, his words slurring more by the minute. More dangerously, one of his hands was slowly moving towards the daggers on his belt. “A man of honour? How can you stand to look at yourself in the mirror after all the lives you’ve taken! You’re a bloody murdering bastard, Black, nothi—” Pacian’s accusation was abruptly cut of as Robert’s clenched fist thundered into his face, sending Pacian crashing through some chairs stacked in the corner and sprawling onto the hardwood floor.
Aiden immediately went to his aid and quickly discovered he was out cold. The tension in the tavern was palpable, with many of the dwarves reaching towards concealed weapons. Robert stood his ground, levelling a stare at everyone present in case they had the same intentions as Pacian.
“I’ll tolerate being called a lot of things,” he said, “but I’m no murderer. When your friend wakes up, tell him the next time he accuses me of being something I ain’t, I’ll put him out of his misery for good.” With that, the mercenary stalked off upstairs to retire for the evening, leaving Aiden to clean up the mess. Try as he might however, he couldn’t help be impressed by what Robert had spoken of that evening.
Chapter Four
Pacian was slumped over the saddle of his horse the next day as they slowly rode through the mountains. He was also sporting an impressive black eye, a legacy of his confrontation with Robert last night. Aiden wasn’t privy to the conversation Nellise had with Pacian shortly after arriving at the inn that morning, but the stony silence between them spoke volumes.
Nobody else seemed concerned about Robert punching Pacian in the face, least of all the patrons of the tavern who, when asked, all agreed that the drunken fool had asked for it.
Criosa was elated upon her return from Stonegaard that morning. She and Nellise had arranged for complete co-operation from the dwarves, who had a reputation for being difficult to deal with at the best of times. In spite of this new spirit of camaraderie, King Sulinus had only promised a thousand soldiers to the cause, the vast number of them siege engineers and support staff. Having little idea what they would face, the king could promise no more.
“I should tell the others that we may have to fight,” Aiden muttered to Salinder, keeping his voice low to avoid attracting attention.
We will not, the sword answered. Tell them nothing.
“Can you be one hundred percent certain, that you can make her leave without spilling a drop of blood?” Aiden pressed. Salinder paused to consider this before answering.
I am ninety percent sure my plan will work, it said, confirming Aiden’s suspicion.
“Then you need to be prepared to help us fight, because if we all die facing her today, your quest to destroy the Ironlord fails as well.”
I will consider your words, Salinder responded, sounding more subdued. The weather was fine and clear for most of the day, although the wind was unrelenting. Aiden and his companions made every effort to rest their horses, and only rarely rode them at a canter. The highway was little more than a clear path through the rocky surroundings, with treacherous ground hidden beneath the snow.
As the sun was beginning to set, they began to look for a place to make camp. They had arrived at a magnificent vista, where a once-great river had carved its way through the surrounding rock over many years. The highway ahead of them descended back and forth along the side of the valley until it reached a sturdy bridge.
Although he wasn’t certain, Aiden thought he could hear a faint noise in the distance, not unlike singing. It was the only thing he could hear, for the valley before them was almost completely silent, save for the soft murmur of the distant waters.
“The Valley of Silence,” Criosa remarked as she took in the beautiful scene. “I can think of no better place to set up camp.”
“I can,” Robert muttered, drawing her attention. “We’re close to the monastery I stayed at for the past few weeks. They’re poor company, unless you’re into discipline and silent contemplation, but they allow travellers in distress to stay for a while. I, for one, would prefer to sleep on a proper bed, even if the mattress is wafer thin.”
“I second the motion,” Aiden added.
“Getting soft in your old age?” Pacian remarked sarcastically.
“You want a proper bed just as much as I do — you just don’t want to be seen agreeing with Robert,” Aiden pointed out. The mercenary laughed quietly at this — much to Pacian’s annoyance — and looked to Criosa for her opinion.
“Very well,” she agreed. “You’re making entirely too much sense Mister Black, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to hate you. Nonetheless, I shall do my level best to continue treating you with disdain. Nellise, lead us to this monastery.”
“With pleasure, Criosa,” Nellise replied with a half-smile as she guided her horse off the path in the direction of the chanting. Robert glowered at Criosa briefly, until Sayana reminded him of her presence with a flash of flame in front of his face.
The company rode parallel to the river below, until the warm glow of light shining from the monastery’s narrow windows could be seen. It was a tall structure, not unlike the cathedral in Fairloch, but far more austere. Its soaring pinnacles seemed more like a fort’s towers than the architectural flourishes one would expect, giving the entire building a mundane appearance. Still, the smoke rising from its chimney hinted at the warmth Robert had spoken of.
An old stable on the north side of the monastery was empty, but would offer the horses shelter for the night. After they had unpacked their mounts, a man wearing a simple, thick brown hooded robe approached, the hood covering his head and a flaming torch held in one hand. He seemed unremarkable in most respects, but for a short grey beard with an unusual cut covering his lower chin only.
“Greetings,” he announced sternly. “Am I to assume you wish to obtain lodging for the night? This is not an inn. Travellers are not ordinarily welcomed here.”
“Brother Owen,” Robert replied in a familial tone. “They’ve got you on night watch again?” The monk, evidently named Brother Owen, smiled in recognition as he looked upon the mercenary.
“Robert, I had not thought to see you again so soon. You are of course welcome to abide here for a time. Who are your associates?”
“Remember those people I was telling you about?” Robert reminded the monk. “Well, here they are.” Owen held his torch higher and looked over the group with appraising eyes.
“It would appear your plan to make amends is bearing fruit, my friend,” Owen said to Robert a moment later. “I suspect your associates are not altogether pleased with your continued existence, however.”
“We’re really just a big, happy family,” Pacian mocked with a hollow grin.
“We could really use a place to rest for the night,” Robert said, ignoring his remark.
“Then I offer all of you the simple shelter of our monastery,” Owen replied smoothly. “Follow me, and I will find lodgings for you.”
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Criosa thanked him as they started to leave the stable. Aiden, however, had other plans.
“I’ll head insid
e after I’ve tended to the horses,” he informed the others.
“Are you sure?” Criosa asked curiously. “I’m happy to have Robert take care of all that.” Aiden waved her away, ignoring Roberts annoyed glance, and started to unsaddle the horses. When he glanced around and saw he was finally alone, Aiden put a hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Salinder, are you there?” he asked in a tight whisper.
Where would I go? came the rather curt reply within Aiden’s mind.
“This is the first chance we’ve had to talk privately, and I’ve got a few questions that need answering,” he explained as he started to brush down the fine coat on his horse. “What are you going to do that will make her leave without fighting?”
I will influence her mind to ensure a peaceful resolution, Salinder assured him.
“Is her insanity likely to get in the way of that?” Aiden inquired dryly.
You should speak of her with more respect. She was once a proud creature who soared through the skies of Feydwiir with impunity. The culling of my kind by humanity had been ongoing for many decades, and one day when she returned to her clutch of young, Azurefang found her offspring butchered and skinned. That is what shattered her mind. Your civilisation is merely reaping what was sown by your ancestors.
“I’m sorry,” Aiden whispered, pausing for a moment to consider this revelation. “I didn’t realise.”
I can deal with her, as long as you remain calm during the confrontation.
“Can you be more specific?” Aiden prompted.
When the time comes, stand with Robert Black as he speaks with her and I will do the rest.
“And if it goes badly?” Aiden pressed, brushing a little too hard for his horse’s liking and receiving a tail in his face for his trouble.
I will slay her myself, came the reply Aiden had been wanting to hear.
“That’s more like it. There’s something else I want to ask. Weeks ago, you showed me a dream of dragons chasing me for the Lexicon. Vindictus could smell it on me — is Azurefang likely to sense its presence as well?”
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