“Alright, but you have to keep this to yourself,” he said in a low voice. He took the time to explain the nature of the events that had taken place in Fairloch, and how he’d learned of the Ironlord’s existence, including the king’s effort to stop the thing before it entered the world.
“So, we’re going to be fighting a bunch of these walking metal men?” Colt summarized.
“Now you know what to look out for when you’re on patrol. If you do see them coming, don’t engage them — they’re as tough as they look, and we’ll need to combine our efforts to take them down.”
“You’ve got a plan though, right?” Colt insisted.
“I have the beginnings of something that might lead to a plan, sure,” Aiden hedged. “I’ll know more in a few days.”
“I hope you find what you’re looking for, for all our sakes,” Colt growled as he slowly walked back down to the common room. It was a sentiment Aiden felt all too keenly as he went off to his own room to get some rest.
Whether it was the lack of warm company between the sheets that night or the impending journey outside of the Kingdom’s borders, Aiden tossed and turned, unable to drift off to sleep. The wind outside had picked up and was howling through the streets, adding to his discomfort. Pacian’s words were echoing in his mind and for the first time in many weeks, he considered all the people he’d killed in the name of the Crown.
The words of his father came back to him, some of the last word’s he’d spoken to his wayward son, months ago. Aiden had killed people, and regardless of whether or not they deserved it, he could never go back to the innocent young man he’d once been.
While he was pondering the implications of his path in life, a shadow crossed his window, obscuring the feeble moonlight enough to cause Aiden to jump out of his bed. A serpentine head was present just outside the frost-rimmed glass, peering inside with one large eye.
“Spartan,” Aiden breathed, collapsing back onto his bed in relief.
I wish to speak with you, came the dragon’s disembodied voice within Aiden’s mind.
“I’m trying to sleep, can’t this wait until morning?” he replied, hoping he could be heard through the window.
Pacian is a liability, Spartan continued without heeding Aiden’s request. Our quest is of the utmost importance and his instability may bring us trouble.
“What would you have me do about it?” Aiden asked. “He’s got problems, yes, but he’ll deal with them as he always has. We’ve all got problems, you know.”
Speak for yourself, the dragon admonished. When the time comes to face our intractable foe, can you really trust Pacian to stand with us?
“What’s the worst he could do, run away and hide?” Aiden retorted.
He might take matters into his own hands, like he did with the prisoners from the brief skirmish at Bracksford.
“What are you saying?” Aiden asked, sitting up in bed and looking at the head hovering just outside his window. “Are you talking about the men who escaped on the way to Coldstream?”
You know I am.
“You haven’t told anyone else, right?”
Why would that concern you? Spartan purred. Those men were evil, were they not? The worst aspects of humanity on display for all to see, and Pacian saw to their demise with cunning and stealth such as I have rarely seen. A perfect assassination carried out right under the noses of you and your companions. Surely your friends would rejoice in his methods, particularly Dame Nellise?
“How did you figure it out?” Aiden inquired.
I witnessed his actions. Little escapes my notice, Spartan explained.
“Then you’d know Nellise would never allow him to get away with it, if she found out.”
He holds so many secrets within him, he may yet be driven mad by the chorus of voices calling to him from beyond the grave, Spartan taunted.
“Pacian is my friend Spartan, I know him like nobody else does,” Aiden answered firmly. “Whatever he’s been through, he’s had it far worse in the past. He’ll pull through it, I know he will.”
You cannot even recall most of your childhood, Aiden. You may not know him as well as you suspect.
“He stays with us, until I decide otherwise,” Aiden declared with finality. “How did you know about my memory loss, anyway?”
I have spoken to Salinder about a great many things, the dragon explained. It has helped me to find my place within your group for the duration of this quest.
“I see. Just before I go back to not sleeping, I have one question for you,” Aiden said. “You’ve been awfully nice to everyone lately, including Sayana. I thought dragons and sorcerers hated each other.”
There are other factors at play here, Spartan answered cryptically. She does not frighten me as she does lesser creatures.
“Salinder seemed very upset whenever she showed up,” Aiden pointed out. “What’s different about you?” When no answer was forthcoming, Aiden suddenly had a flash of insight and pressed the dragon on this point. “You’re being kind to her so you can stay close,” he said in little more than a whisper.
She is a weapon of the ancients, Spartan declared. We do not know why she was imbued with these powers by her mother, but regardless, there is always a chance she will fulfil her destiny and destroy everyone and everything around her. At the first sign of this, I am tasked with eliminating that threat.
“You’re going to kill her…” Aiden breathed.
Only if it is required, Spartan clarified. It is my fond hope that she maintains control so I do not have to obliterate her, a service I will gladly extend to Pacian, should he too stray from the path on which we are set.
“Get out of here,” Aiden almost yelled, dismayed at the frank admission but unable to deny the reasons for it. The dragon’s head receded from the window, allowing the cold moonlight to stream inside once more. Aiden buried himself underneath his blankets, angry with Spartan regardless of the logic of his argument. A darkness lingered within two of Aiden’s closest friends and he had no way of knowing what was going to happen to them.
Chapter Fifteen
The ground was encrusted with a fresh layer of snow the next morning, and the freezing cold wind sweeping through the fort made Aiden long to return to the warmth of his bed. The sun, well above the horizon, shed light but little heat upon the courtyard as they saddled their mounts, and strapped on bags filled with supplies.
The horses provided to them had come from Lord Alastair’s own stable, and they were fit and strong, trained to fight, and high-spirited to say the least. Robert seemed very satisfied with the new acquisitions as he went about ensuring his new horse understood who was in charge.
Sayana climbed on the back of his saddle with hardly a thought. When their journey had begun, she had chosen to do so to keep an eye on a potential traitor, but over time, Robert had shown he was a man of his word and now the sorceress rode with him seemingly out of habit. Despite rebuffing the mercenary’s tentative advances back in the forest, she seemed more comfortable around him.
Sitting astride his sleek warhorse, Aiden put a gloved hand on one pouch to ensure he still had his precious cargo. The baron had provided the small box his cursed amulet arrived in, fashioned from lead and quite heavy for its size. Once safely inside, Aiden was surprised to find no sign of the amulet’s pernicious aura visible to his arcane sight. Whoever had sent the relic to the baron had clearly known of its terrible power, and had taken steps to ensure that only the person receiving the ‘gift’ would unlock its true purpose.
Of Terinus, there was no sign. Sir Leonard had reported the wizard had entered the library just before dawn and not yet emerged, so it was safe to assume he had teleported back to the king’s side, wherever he may be. Aiden was glad of this, for he found his brief encounter with the man to be very unsettling, a fact that was completely lost on Sayana when she learned of his visit.
“Is he gone already?” she protested, glancing around in the faint hope of finding the black-robed w
izard walking past somewhere.
“He did say his time here was limited,” Aiden informed her as they prepared to set out.
“You should have come and told me of his arrival,” she berated him. “I’ve wanted to meet him ever since I learned of his existence.”
“I’m sorry, that was the last thing on my mind,” Aiden apologized. “Besides… I don’t think you really missed all that much. He’s a rather unique individual.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Criosa muttered. “I’m sure we’ll meet him again in the near future Sy.” Sayana had to be content with that answer for the moment, though she clearly chafed at the delay in potentially learning more about herself.
Pacian was the last to mount up, for he was sporting a black eye in addition to his wicked hangover. He’d spent the last hour retching in his room, and finally seemed ready to join them. Aiden briefly considered asking him to stay behind, but he didn’t want to give Spartan the satisfaction of being right. Besides, he knew his friend would pull through this sooner or later, and leaving him to sit around and drink himself to death in the cold, barren fort wasn’t an option. Unsurprisingly, Nellise was unimpressed with his slovenly appearance and barely spoke to him at all.
Finally ready to depart, Criosa led them to the south gate at a steady walk. Chains clattered and gears turned as they approached, raising the two portcullises and lowering the outer drawbridge. Aiden noticed with a passing interest the wall around the gate was in much better condition than the rest, and he could even see the seam where the old and new had been stitched together.
This was the gate that had been built to replace the one Salinder had taken with him to the Aether, when he enacted his mighty incantation at the last confrontation with the Ironlord long ago.
The wind whipped the powdered snow into clouds as they left the fort behind them. Looking out over the frozen landscape outside the gate, Aiden was struck with an intense feeling of déjà vu. Within the dreams he shared with Salinder via the shard of the broken communication sphere still hanging around his neck, countless times he had stared across this field and witnessed the Battle of Fort Highmarch unfold.
This is the place where thousands of men had fallen in a desperate attempt to stop the metal army, and riding across the plain Aiden worried if history was soon to repeat itself.
I was surprised to see you, a boy of thirteen standing on the hillside observing the battle, Salinder said, correctly guessing what thoughts played upon Aiden’s mind. I could not recall seeing you during the fight, but I assumed I had been too preoccupied to notice. It wasn’t until Sayana’s appearance, years later, that I realized something deeper was occurring.
“I was terrified of you,” Aiden muttered, recalling his recurring dream. “You might have done something to reassure me you weren’t a danger. I was only a boy, facing a monster I couldn’t fight or escape.”
Some of my enemies are able to walk in dreams, and I could not be certain you weren’t one of them in disguise, Salinder explained. For what it’s worth, I do apologise.
“Better late than never, I suppose,” Aiden answered, trying to force the images out of his mind and focus on the trail ahead. The tallest mountain in Aielund and according to an old map of Feydwiir he had once examined, the second highest in all the land, Threepeak, came into view.
It seemed to reach up into the sky like a three-fingered hand clawing at the heavens as they rode in its shadow. Aiden briefly caught a glint of silver in the air, and glimpsed Spartan gliding easily overhead, shadowing their path through the mountains.
The highway through the mountains was the easiest path and from here, they began their descent. The view was quite distracting, for all the lands to the south could be seen in the distance with breathtaking clarity, topped with white clouds seemingly painted on top of the expansive scenery. A distinct reddish haze marked the lands of the Hocarum Desert they were soon to enter.
As the land levelled out, the view vanished behind a wall of rock. Below, a vast gorge cut through the side of the mountain running across their path, easily a hundred feet across and disappearing into the distance on either side. Their horses slowed as they approached the only way across, a natural bridge of grey stone formed over countless years of wind and rain.
The distant rush of a turbulent river cutting its way through the winding rock could be heard from two hundred feet below them. The sides were almost sheer but for sharp rocks jutting out of the walls at irregular intervals. Aiden gripped the reins tightly and fixed his gaze on the opposite side of the chasm, regretting the curiosity urging him to look down into the hungry chasm waiting to devour any who fell into it.
They crossed the bridge without incident, and paused for the midday meal amongst the sparse greenery of the mountainside. Pacian was the only one showing signs of strain from the journey, although he had looked the worse for wear before they had even started out. Aiden noticed him surreptitiously take something from Nellise’s pack, though the object of his theft wasn’t clear. She didn’t notice as he slipped it back just before they set out again, and it left Aiden curious as to what Pacian had taken.
Criosa was eager to reach Trinity by nightfall, but Robert, who was the only one of their group to have travelled this path, told them it was unlikely.
“The maps make it look closer than it is,” he explained. “What they don’t show in great detail is the escarpment we’ll need to descend before we reach the desert. It’ll take a couple of hours at best, so be prepared to spend an evening enjoying the bracing cold of a spring night in the desert.”
Merchants leading mules and wagons laden with supplies passed them on their way north and there was a distinct change in the scenery during the ongoing descent, revealing the dry and dusty ground underneath.
A short time later, their journey came to a halt when the land before them ended at the escarpment Robert had warned of. A warm wind kicked up dust from the parched ground beneath their horse’s hooves, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky as Aiden looked across the expanse of red dirt dominating the view. As far as the eye could see there was nothing but flat ground, without any sign of life to be seen amongst the dusty red expanse of the Hocarum Desert.
The distinct trail they had followed for most of the day continued along the side of the cliff, slowly weaving back and forth until finally meeting the ground far below. The trail wasn’t too steep, though it did seem quite narrow in places. Other travellers ascended the trail, appearing like ants from this distance. It was obvious it would take most of the remaining light to reach the bottom.
They began their final descent without further delay, mindful of the considerable drop to one side. Aiden’s ears popped twice as they went, but he hardly noticed as he focused all his attention on navigating the treacherous path. He was lathered in sweat by the time they reached the plain below and bone-tired from the immense concentration he’d used in ensuring he didn’t fall to his death.
The others were similarly worn out, and set about making camp for the night in near silence. Spartan, having avoided the rigors of the descent, alighted on the ground before them and folded his wings.
Sayana lit a fire using wood Robert had brought along with him in anticipation of their need. With their bedrolls set up near the campfire, they settled in for the night under the open sky. Aiden stared up at the stars as he ate sausages Nellise quickly fried in a pan, marvelling at the thousand points of light staring back at him from the heavens.
He’d never seen them with such clarity, and found his mind wandering through the possibilities of the future. One such possibility crept across the camp and sat beside him on the cool red sand.
“Can’t sleep?” Aiden whispered to Criosa.
“They’re still waiting for me behind my eyelids,” she replied despondently. “Those damnable creatures with their fiery claws.”
“I’m sure the memories will fade with time,” Aiden assured her, leaning on one elbow to look directly at her. “Is there something e
lse on your mind?” Criosa toyed with a small rock on the ground before answering.
“My mother died when I was very young, something you’ve probably heard of,” she answered.
“Yes, I read about it,” Aiden answered softly. “You must have been devastated.”
“I was. It was such an unpredictable way to go, too. With all the clerical help we have thanks to the Church of Aielund, it was tragic that she simply fell off her horse while riding and broke her neck. Her death was instant, which is something to be thankful for, but if she had lingered even for a short time, the priest might have made it there in time to heal her injury. But what’s done is done,” Criosa mumbled, having long ago made peace with the loss. “What I’ve learned from her passing is that death can strike at any time, without warning.”
“Morbid, but relevant,” Aiden murmured. He was reminded of something Robert had said to him back in Auchlevie, and decided this was as good a time as any to press the issue. “I have to ask you something — as the only heir, aren’t you destined to be married off to some prince?”
“I was supposed to be, yes,” Criosa replied archly. “To Prince Osric Davignon of Tulsone, son of King Évariste Davignon the third. We were to be wed in two years, although that information had been kept secret. I think you can figure out what happened to that arrangement.”
“The war started. I had no idea the two royal families were so close before hostilities began.”
“All the royal families of Feydwiir keep in touch from time to time, and many of us are distant relatives,” Criosa confided. “Mother was a cousin to Évariste, as it happens. I’ve known Osric for many years, and although he is intelligent, handsome and wealthy, I found that beneath all that, he has a darker side.”
“Such as?” Aiden prompted.
“He has certain unseemly appetites I was not looking forward to experiencing first-hand,” she explained tentatively. “Suffice to say, I shed no tears at the dissolution of our marriage arrangement.”
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