by Jeff Gunzel
Azek approached Jade, looking to quietly bend her ear for a minute. “My lady, I fear I must excuse myself. There is much preparation that needs attending.”
“Of course, Captain,” Jade replied quietly. “You must get your men ready before we depart. Don’t let me stand in your way.”
“Day and night, my men are always ready,” he said, chest puffing out with pride. “Especially now that they are free of the crytons’ rule. However, inventory of equipment and weapons, that sort of thing is a different story. It will take time to get everything organized before we leave for Candrin.” She nodded, gesturing towards the door. He took three steps, slumped his shoulders, then slinked back up to her.
“I...I know I don’t deserve what I’m about to ask,” he whispered, eyes low so he wouldn’t have to meet hers. “You know the truth now. I need you to know that I was devoted to your mother in every way. She had my unwavering loyalty, but at the same time she had also stolen my heart.” He swallowed hard. This sort of talk was obviously difficult for the hardnosed warrior.
“You are not the product of a single night of lust. I loved Ilirra, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about her. Keeping our secret was an oath we both despised, but a necessary one. And now that you know, if you ever find it in your heart to forgive me... I mean...you don’t have to always call me ‘captain.’ If you want to, you may call me—” His babbling was becoming hard to watch.
Jade placed a hand on his cheek. “I do recognize you as my father,” she whispered back. “You did what was necessary, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. When this is over, I promise we shall have a long talk.” She gave him a hug and kissed his cheek. “Go now, Father. We both have much to do.” He left with a spring in his step.
“So what do we do now?” asked Nima. “It seems you’ve taken back your city, and for that I commend you. But this battle was only the beginning.”
“Agreed,” said Jade, stumbling back down into a chair. She closed her eyes, rubbing her temples in circles. How did her mother ever handle these pressures? “For now we wait. Azek is making the preparations for travel. In a day or two we shall march for Candrin and then set sail from there.”
“My people are ready,” said Shantis. “It will be an honor to fight beside you. The crytons still have much to prove.”
Jade opened her eyes and leaned forward in her chair. “The honor is mine,” she said. “We welcome every sword and bow we can—”
Addel burst through the door, eyes red and tears streaming down her cheeks. “He’s...he’s...” she stuttered breathlessly.
“Addel, what’s wrong?” Jade asked, leaping from her seat.
“The...the portal is opening! It’s happening right now!”
“How much time?” Jade asked, her voice oddly calm and determined.
“I have no way of telling for sure, but I believe we’ve discovered it at an early stage.”
Determined, Jade turned back to Shantis. “How fast can your soldiers be ready?”
“For you? They are ready right thisss sssecond!”
“As are we,” said Amoshi, standing with Nima at his side. “We all knew this was coming. Better to meet this challenge head-on!”
“Very well then,” Jade replied. “We march at first light. Candrin’s ships will leave in one week’s time. Those who are not present shall be left behind.” She gazed around the room at her loyal friends. How lucky she was to have such devoted people in her life. “No matter what happens my friends, it has been an honor and privilege. Together, we shall write a new chapter in the pages of history. If the gods are afraid, then let them look away when the crytons and humans fight side by side to defend what is rightfully ours!”
* * *
Blindfold snug over his eyes, Eric’s mind drifted in nothingness. Knowing that focusing on his senses of sight and sound would only cause interference, the blindfold was in place for his own benefit. Those were the limited senses that normal men relied on to grasp the world around them. But for the Gate Keeper, they provided nothing more than background noise while masking reality. They represented a feeble, primitive form of intellect that meant nothing to him now.
In a flash, he felt the virtual rainbow of colors surge towards him, every shade of every color imaginable, yet each so distinct so they were impossible to confuse with each other. He raised his hands, effortlessly opening dozens of floating portals. Each one swallowed a streaking arrow, dagger, or dart, then sent them back exactly where he wanted them to go. He heard the snapping of targets getting pummeled, a crackling sound like a sudden hailstorm.
When the dust settled, Eric pulled back the blindfold already sure of what he would see. Monks stood in long rows, either holding a bow or empty-handed. Straw dummies with spiraled targets painted on them sprouted shafts like porcupines. No target was untouched, but more importantly, no monk had been hit either. Eric’s mastery of his abilities was now reaching new heights. His precision and accuracy had become freakish.
Tossing the blindfold aside, he marched away with a disinterested look. The drills were becoming second nature, but his mind remained elsewhere. He walked to the side of the cliff, gazing up at the angry sky. The vortex churned as it had done for many days now, sending loose debris fluttering through the air like large black moths.
“Where are you?” he growled, glaring into the rolling green sphere. “How long do you plan to cower in your hole, hiding in the shadows like a diseased rat?”
“Be careful what you wish for, boy,” said Yammon, approaching from behind. “As far as we know, these will be the last days of peace our world will ever know. I suggest you enjoy the quiet while it lasts.”
“I do not fear him,” Eric hissed, cold eyes staring out over the desert.
“I know you don’t.” Yammon nudged him, pointing out to the east. “And it seems you are not the only one who does not fear the darkness.” Shaken from his frozen hate, Eric gazed out in that direction. Torchlight exposed the marching men, a virtual sea of wicker helmets and green capes coming this way. “Remember, you are not alone in this.”
“Of course we’re not,” said Eric, smiling for the first time in quite a while. “I knew they would come.”
* * *
Jacob and Kelus rode at the front, leading the soldiers through the desert. Their horses whinnied and stomped their hooves, clearly uncomfortable with the unnatural energies circulating here. The Mountain of Dreams was just up ahead, its sides carved out with intricate designs, its swirling patterns matching those burned into Eric’s upper body. As they drew closer, they could see Eric and the other monks high up on the mountain looking down at them.
“Halt,” called Kelus, raising his hand while gazing up at the eerie green sky. That churning vortex was almost directly over them, which didn’t sit well with the other soldiers. He turned to Jacob. “And this is where we’ll make our camp,” he said.
Jacob glanced upward. “Are you sure?” he asked, agreeing with the groans of the men. “If we just go up a little farther...”
“No,” Kelus stated firmly. “We need to send a message here. The darkness is coming no matter what we do or where we go. If it’s our time then so be it, but I won’t face my end with only one foot in the battle.”
Satisfied with that answer, Jacob nodded and swung down off his mount. Despite a few more grumbles, the rest of the soldiers did the same. They threw down packs and began setting up tents. Others spread out to find scraps of wood for fires. Nobody knew how long the wait might be, not that any were all that eager to battle against the unknown. But they had come prepared to wait it out for as long as necessary. Several of the mounts carried no riders, only rations, fresh water, and other provisions for a possible extended wait.
Distracted, Jacob walked closer to the mountain, looking up across its intricately carved face. What had happened here was a true miracle, and part of him wanted to believe it might be a sign. Would the gods smile fortune upon them? Only time would tell.
High
up he could see Eric still looking down on them. Even at this distance, his large, muscular frame was unmistakable. Jacob raised his hand in salute, an acknowledgment to his old friend who was here because he was fated to be. If nothing else, he needed Eric to see that he would not abandon him.
Eric’s fingers rose to his forehead, then came to rest on his heart, a silent salute of thanks to an old friend.
Chapter 15
Eric had stopped his training for days now. Yammon assured him there was nothing more he could master in such a short amount of time. Better now to focus solely on preparations. Meditating, he sat near the edge of the cliff, eyes closed, hands resting on his knees. As the days passed by, this was quickly becoming his favorite spot. Not only could he keep a watchful eye on the churning vortex, but he could also see the men camped down below. Being able to see them whenever he wished was comforting.
Yammon came up from behind and quietly sat next to him. “I think I should go down there,” said Eric, eyes still closed, his peaceful pose undisturbed.
“We’ve already been through this,” Yammon sighed, taking in the scenery. “It’s better for all if you stay up here with us. For one thing, the battle could begin abruptly and you would be safer staying out of harm’s way. If the men were to see the Gate Keeper fall before the battle even begins, then all will truly be lost. Their morale will be crushed and the darkness will win before it even starts.”
“You’ve told me that. I just think that maybe—”
“And,” Yammon interrupted. “As I’ve already explained to you, the Shantie Rhoe is as much a symbol of hope as he is a weapon. Many of the stories about you have been greatly exaggerated throughout the centuries, and yet these are the tales that so many remember. In many minds you are barely even a human; in their minds you are twenty feet tall, fire-breathing with thick snakes for arms. The tales go on and on like that. Others will show soon enough, and if they see you up close it will most certainly shatter their perception of the Shantie Rhoe. They will see nothing but a,” he hesitated a moment, “nothing more than a man.”
Eric shook his head at the irony of Yammon’s explanation. For so long he had viewed himself a monster, a freak with no right to walk amongst the human race. The worry that he might actually appear to be too human was almost laughable.
“And where are these armies anyway?” Eric asked. “How long has it been now? The only ones who have showed are the Takeri Clan, and they won’t be able to hold the line by themselves.”
“Give them time,” Yammon replied, looking up to the vortex once more. “I’m sure that word of these events has spread faster than you realize.”
* * *
Jacob shared a fire with General Yavin Asuma, a man he had almost killed in a skirmish. They sat in silence, chewing on tough bits of jerky and stale bread. The bread was a luxury that wasn’t going to last much longer. Even now they were forced to cut away the bluish mold creeping across the loaves.
“Tell me about your home,” said Yavin, closely examining a piece of bread he wasn’t sure could still be saved.
“Hmm?” Jacob mumbled, caught off guard by the sudden question.
“You’ve seen our lands, mingled amongst my people,” Yavin replied, giving up on the fuzzy bread and tossing it back over his shoulder. “But I know nothing of your homelands. You rarely speak of home. Why is that?”
Jacob swallowed the rough jerky, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “I guess it’s because I’ve been trying not to think of home. Even now I’m not sure I’ll ever see it again.”
“All the more reason to tell me about it,” Yavin grinned. “If these are going to be our last days, then perhaps we should fill them with pleasant memories.”
Jacob nodded, sporting a large grin of his own. “Bakeries filled with breads, cakes and cookies,” he said, eyes drifting upward as he reminisced. “The streets are filled with children, running back and forth with their colorful pinwheels. I can still remember the sweet smell of pipe tobacco when I’d pass by the pubs in the evening, the sounds of laughter as strangers told their tall tales.”
“And the women?” said Yavin, one eyebrow raised as he listened intently.
“The most beautiful in the world,” he sighed. “More curves than a map and smiles that could melt a blade.” A pain struck his heart as a vision of Athel popped into his mind. By the gods I miss her so.
Yavin let out a bellowing laugh before lying on his back, fingers locked behind his head. “Well, that sounds wonderful. I should like to sail there someday.” He rolled his head to the side, looking squarely at Jacob. “You’ll see it again soon, my friend. I promise you.”
An unsteadiness rattled its way through camp, men rising to their feet while others began to shout and point. It didn’t take them long to see what the escalating excitement was about. Off in the distance looked to be a mini sandstorm heading their direction. No, not a sandstorm, but riders whose mounts were kicking up clouds of dry dust. They weren’t moving particularly fast, so it didn’t seem like a mounted charge.
Tents began to empty, men in full gear marching up to form a battle line in order to protect the camp. The drill was good to help get the men’s blood pumping, but their aggression soon proved to be unnecessary.
A single man rode far ahead of the others, his polished silver armor gleaming even in the low light. Locks of blond hair spilled down around his shoulders, partially covering the blue roses painted on each shoulder plate.
“Rheldon?” Jacob gasped under his breath.
“Who?” Yavin asked, hand nervously fingering the sword at his side.
Jacob thumped a hand across Yavin’s chest excitedly. “They came! The Tryads are here. I guess they really are men of honor.” Yavin’s hand dropped away from his sword as he stared in disbelief. Of course he knew who they were, but had never seen so many in one place. There had to be two hundred men here, all with silver armor, and low-fitting headpieces that covered the center of their faces.
Unshaken by the arrows pointed his direction, Rheldon removed his helmet and grinned at the unsure soldiers. “Attempting to kill me would be an unwise move, friends,” he said. “I imagine your whole army would fall within a few heartbeats. Save your strength for the coming darkness.” For emphasis, he glanced up at the churning sphere in the sky.
“Kelus!” he called out, eyes still searching the sky. “It seems you may have actually been telling the truth. Lucky for you I am a man of my word.”
“As am I,” came an answering call as Kelus worked his way to the front line. “Lower your weapons,” he barked at the bowmen as he passed. “Against these men, they would do you no good anyway.” He approached Rheldon, standing before the mounted soldier. Those soft blue eyes gazed back, golden hair waving around in the breeze. How could such a pretty man be the leader of the deadliest fighting force known in these parts?
“I thank you for coming,” said Kelus. “Please, I urge that your men join my camp. We have plenty of provisions to share. As for you and I, perhaps we should talk.”
“Of course,” said Rheldon, gesturing towards one of his men. When he scampered over, Rheldon whispered something in his ear, then turned his attention back to Kelus. “Lead the way,” he said, his wide grin never breaking once.
* * *
The two of them entered Kelus’s private tent. Other than additional privacy, it mirrored every other tent in the camp. Hunched, Rheldon made his way over to a small bench. He was far too tall to move freely within such tight quarters. “I apologize for the inconvenience,” said Kelus, making his way over to a small chest. “Try and make yourself as comfortable as possible. Naturally, this is nothing like what you’re used to.”
“Oh, you might be surprised,” Rheldon replied, taking a seat and sitting up straight. “You have no idea what a man can get used to. Besides, by the looks of things out there, I would say comfort is the least of our problems.”
“Ah, here it is,” said Kelus, his back to Rheldon. There came a popping sou
nd, and he turned back holding a bottle and two glasses. “This wine is over a century old, and I think it’s high time I tested it.”
“Are you sure you would waste such fine drink on the likes of me?” Rheldon asked.
“And why not? After all, you practically own me already. Besides, who knows if I’ll live long enough to taste it. I say it’s the perfect time.” He filled both glasses and took his seat across from Rheldon. “I know you have eyes and ears all over these lands,” he continued, circling the glass under his nose. “What news do you bring? We fight on the same side now, so don’t hold anything back.”
Rheldon took a large gulp, savoring the deep sweetness. “A fine drink to call my last,” he said, eyes closed as he tilted his head back and sighed. “My spies tell me the darkness has gained a powerful ally. If my sources are correct, it seems the Crimson Empire has sided against us.”
Kelus took a healthy swallow of his own drink. “I doubt your sources have ever been wrong. For now, I accept that information as fact.” He swirled the red liquid around a few times, watching the glass with sleepy eyes. “An old friend of mine wandered into my village recently.” Rheldon raised an eyebrow, wondering what such a mundane detail had to do with anything.
“I’ll spare you the details of the horrors she’s seen all these years. But know this, she knows that another army has sided with the darkness as well.”
“Your friend, she is certain of this?”
“Let’s just say that she has lived amongst that evil for many, many years. I know she is telling the truth.” He drained his glass in a single gulp, then moved to refill it. “Does my offer of Takareechi still seem like an even trade to you?”
Rheldon just tapped his empty glass without saying a word. Kelus filled it promptly, and the two of them kept drinking in silence.