by Sandell Wall
Aventine frowned, the look on her face making it clear that she saw Brax in an entirely new light. Not a positive one. “I was not aware that carrying out the emperor's will required committing murder.”
“I know what you must be thinking, and you’re not wrong. There’s no honor in what I do. But the emperor must have weapons he uses in the darkness, or he will be slain by his enemies who live in that darkness. The emperor is a just man. Perhaps the most just and merciful man I have ever known. He only uses people like me when absolutely necessary, and only with great regret. You took an oath to serve the emperor in his Guard, and implicit in that oath is trust of his wisdom, judgment, and policies. Does this change how you feel about your oath?”
Aventine did not respond, intent on trying to slow the thoughts racing through her mind. She bowed her head to compose herself, unable to meet Brax’s penetrating gaze and think clearly at the same time. After gathering her thoughts she raised her head. Brax had not moved a single muscle. “No, it does not change how I feel about my oath. But I will never condone assassination.”
Brax nodded slowly, choosing to ignore her ultimatum. “The world is not as black and white as it looks from the training barracks. I kill in the name of the emperor, just like any other member of the Guard. The only difference is that my targets don’t see me coming.”
Disgusted, she said, “And who are you going to kill here?”
“No one, I hope. Only Sir Lorent knows my role as assassin. I’m here as a message to him. The emperor is not so ignorant or weak that he will allow the seeds of rebellion to be planted under his very nose.”
The thoughts that had been cascading out of control in her head coalesced into one coherent thought. Brax had revealed so much for her to absorb, but one question needed an immediate answer as it thrust itself to the forefront of her mind. She said, “Are you my mentor because the Guard expects me to become an assassin?”
Chapter 5
THERE WAS A STORY Holmgrim liked to tell about a legend from his homeland in the wilds. As he told it, three immortals sit in judgment over the race of man. All men must pass before these judges, each person having to face them alone, and all are found wanting. The moral, according to Holmgrim, was that no one is truly innocent. Remus felt like he was standing before those three judges.
The uncomfortable silence stretched as the others absorbed the implications of his confession to stealing the scroll. He understood Sentras’s anger and Axid’s confused horror, but he was not prepared for the look of disappointment and hurt on Holmgrim’s face.
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Sentras said, the condemnation behind his words unmistakable. “But I am disappointed.” He glanced at Holmgrim. “This speaks as much of your master as it does of you. I expected better from a former soldier of the Legion.”
Sentras addressed Remus, no mercy or compassion in his one eye, and no sympathy in his voice. “If you can produce the scroll, right now, I’ll not have you arrested.”
Remus started with a jerk and raced to the door, desperate to retrieve the scroll. He flung the door open with a loud bang and grabbed the scroll from where he had hidden it. Sentras stood with his hand outstretched, waiting for Remus to hand him the rune drawing. Remus dropped the rolled parchment into the waiting hand and stepped back, hoping it would appease the man.
Sentras took his time carefully examining the scroll. Once satisfied he looked up at Remus. “Why did you take it? What’s more, where did you take it and what did you do with it?”
“I-I only took it to my room at the back of the smithy. I studied it. I’ve always been curious about runes, and I’ve never seen anything like that scroll before.” The words came out in a rush, ending with an audible gulp. He chastised himself inwardly for appearing so scared, but then he realized that he was scared. Terrified in fact. Like a young child who knew he had done wrong, cowering before the looming consequences of his actions, he would have done anything at that instant to go back in time and undo his mistake. The possibility that his defiant attitude and rebellion against the rules imposed on him might someday have severe repercussions had never crossed his mind before now.
“You studied it?” Sentras was incredulous. “You, a novice smith from an illiterate border province studied a rune scroll? And not just any rune scroll, the plans for an artifact of a great house?” Shaking his head in disbelief he said, “Ridiculous. Absolutely absurd. I’m going to guess that you took notes. I’ll need to inspect your room to make sure none exist.”
When no one moved or spoke, Sentras gestured harshly towards the door. “I mean now. Take me to your room.”
Remus glanced at Holmgrim for help, but the big smith only shook his head and motioned for him to exit through the door. The room was silent as he turned and walked out. Sentras followed him without prompting. Neither of them spoke as he led Sentras to his room at the rear of the smithy. Remus felt numb. Sentras was about to discover all of the notes he had made over the last two years—drawings of every minor rune they had crafted in the smithy.
I’m done for.
He opened the door and stepped inside. There was barely enough room for the two of them.
“Open that chest and display all of its contents on the floor,” Sentras said, having seen the wooden trunk that Remus kept his possessions in. He did as instructed. His writings and drawings were on the top, resting on his clothes that were packed in the bottom of the chest. Like a doomed man digging his own grave, he dug the crude papers out and placed them on the floor. It was impossible to get good paper or drawing materials in Delgrath, so he’d been forced to scrounge from the meager resources he could find in the smithy. Remus had a meticulous eye for detail, and despite his lack of real tools, he had diagramed every rune he had ever seen Axid work on. The stolen scroll was the first professional drawing he had ever encountered, so he had no idea how his work compared to anyone else’s.
“You did all this?” Sentras asked, the vitriol gone from his voice.
Remus only nodded.
Sentras’s anger had vanished, and in its place was something Remus could not understand. Sentras seemed distracted, like he was devoting all of his mental faculties to a difficult problem. The drawings and notes strewn about on the floor held Sentras’s complete attention, and as he sorted through them, he picked up random drawings and inspected them thoroughly. When he found the copy of the stolen scroll, he folded it up carefully and put it in the leather scrip hanging at his side. “All right,” he said as he stood, “I’ve seen enough. Gather the rest of the papers and bring them back into the smithy.”
Remus followed Sentras back to the smithy, his arm full of notes and drawings. He had mastered his initial fear, and in its place a savage frustration was growing.
So. He’s realized I’m more than just some idiot from the sticks and now he’ll want to profit from it. Just like Holmgrim.
He shook his head in disgust.
I’m done being used. From here on out I’m going to demand the respect I deserve.
His confidence returned with his mounting anger, and when they stepped through the door, he was ready to act. Moving with purpose he strode to the table and slammed his armload of papers down.
“As you can see, I do know how to study,” Remus said before anyone else could speak. Holmgrim and Axid stopped what they were doing and looked up. Remus squared his shoulders and faced Sentras, ready to demand an end to this farce. “Now, if you’re going to—”
“I didn’t tell you to put them on the table,” Sentras said, as if Remus had never spoken. “Throw them in the forge.”
Dumbfounded, Remus just stared, unable to immediately comprehend Sentras’s command. “What?” he finally managed. “But this… What do you… You can’t!” He could not finish a sentence, the objections spilling out of him faster than he could speak.
While Remus spluttered, Holmgrim casually approached the table and started leafing through the papers. After inspecting several diagrams he had apparently seen enough. Wi
thout saying a word he scooped up the entire pile and flung it into the forge. The flimsy paper was obliterated in the flames almost instantly.
As far as Remus was concerned, the world had ended. Holmgrim had just destroyed two years of painstaking work and study like it was nothing. No, like it was less than nothing: like it was trash. His eyes filled with tears. Deep within his being he felt a spark ignite, a sinister heat where before there was only emptiness. He knew, with a grave intuition, that if he fed this ember, it would grow into an implacable rage that would engulf him. But standing there, feeling utterly betrayed, he had no other source of strength to draw from.
“How dare you?” Remus screamed, his body rigid with anger, the tears streaming down his face betraying the pain and confusion he was trying to mask with fury.
Before anyone else could respond, Sentras took three swift strides to stand in front of Remus. He slapped Remus hard across the face. “Be silent.”
Remus dropped to sit on the table’s bench, the emotional turmoil and shock too much to handle. Sentras turned so that he could address both Holmgrim and Remus at the same time. “Remus’s transgressions demand punishment. Under any other circumstances he would be arrested, imprisoned, and barred from joining the guilds for the rest of his life.”
Remus hung his head, staring sightless and disconsolate at the stone floor.
“But, given what was stolen,” Sentras said, “I fear that House Lome would use the boy as the leverage they need to force Holmgrim to work for them. And I cannot bring myself to allow that to happen.”
Holmgrim folded his arms and Remus looked up with hope in his eyes.
“So,” Sentras said, “here’s what will happen. I cannot deny Remus’s obvious talent, and I will not see it wasted. But he must be disciplined, and he must prove to me that he is worthy of joining the guild. You will start your apprentice training over, from the very beginning. You will complete all of the assignments, and you will work as an apprentice until I return in two years. At that time I will re-evaluate your application to the guild. And if I discover that you have made any study of runes during those two years, I will bar you from joining the guild for the rest of your life.”
When Sentras’s words registered, Remus felt like his heart had dropped out of his chest. He could not believe he was being forced to start over. Facing two more years of apprenticeship training felt like more of a punishment than any prison he could imagine. He wanted to shout, to argue, to fight any way he could, but he was not about to stand up to Sentras again.
There was a pause as Sentras waited to see if Remus would respond. When he did not, the old soldier spoke to Holmgrim. “This is not how I envisioned this visit going, my friend.”
At first Holmgrim did not respond, but after glaring at Sentras for a short while, he finally said, “Nor I.”
“You acknowledge receipt of the commission?” Sentras nodded to where he had placed the scroll on the table.
“I do.” Holmgrim’s words were as emotionless as his face.
“Very well,” Sentras said, his voice sad. “I hope to see the three of you again in two years’ time under better circumstances.” With that, he turned and quietly exited the smithy.
After Sentras left no one was in a hurry to speak. Holmgrim stood near the forge, his arms still crossed, lost deep in thought. Axid was at the rear of the smithy by his work station. Remus still sat on the bench facing into the smithy, bent forward with his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. He was trembling slightly, aware that his future had been fundamentally altered in the span of an hour.
With a great sigh Holmgrim walked over and sat on the bench beside Remus, the wood creaking under his bulk. “I’m sorry, boy. I did not prepare you as I should have. It’s easy to forget, way out here, how deadly serious the guilds are. I never expected something like this would happen.”
Remus bristled. “You never told me I wouldn’t be able to join the guild on my own. What did you expect to happen? That you could just call in a favor to find the orphan a home?” Remus jumped up and started to pace, unable to sit still while the need to lash out boiled inside him. “Why did you take me in the first place? Why are you helping me? You didn't know me.” Remus stopped and glared at Holmgrim. “You’re not my father.”
In his anger Remus was aware of the pain on Holmgrim’s face, but he didn’t care. He hoped his words tore into the old barbarian more viciously than any blade ever could.
Holmgrim’s voice was quiet as he said, “I thought I could help. I thought I could do some good out here.” He raised his hand half-heartedly to indicate both Remus and Axid. “I thought I could give you boys an opportunity to make something of yourselves.”
“And we see what good that opportunity was.” Remus spat on the floor. “I want no more of your help.”
Remus started for the door, but Holmgrim stood and spoke before he could leave. “I’m not your father. You’re right. I don’t know much about teaching or mentoring young men. I was never meant for that. But I do know that life is brutal, and the only guarantee is pain and death. The story of most people's life is snuffed out before it can even really begin.” His voice cracked, and he paused, the rare display of emotion getting the better of him. “I thought I could lift you and Axid above that. Give you a fighting chance. I thought maybe it’s what I was meant to do.”
There was no sympathy or understanding in Remus’s heart as he watched his mentor break down. The events of the past few days had only solidified in his mind that the world was against him, and to rely on anyone or anything other than himself was not only foolish, but weakness. Forgotten was Holmgrim’s kindness and genius, his patience and quiet strength. All that Remus could see standing before him was a washed-up old man who had only held him back. Not only had he held Remus back, but Holmgrim had fled from his true potential, refusing to embrace the path to greatness.
So Remus went for the jugular. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you were meant to come here. Maybe your legacy was always supposed to be hammering out farming tools in a run-down smithy with a half-wit rune carver.”
His head hung in sadness, Holmgrim had no response. Remus looked at Axid and felt a pang of doubt as he saw the effect his words were having on his friend. Axid had moved closer to listen and now wept silently. But Remus was too far gone to turn back now. He turned on his heel and walked out of the smithy.
For the last time.
Standing in the dusty road in front of the smithy, Remus felt suddenly lost. His anger had carried him out the door, but now he had no idea what to do next. The harsh reality of his existence demanded his attention. Without Holmgrim he was just another unwashed beggar sleeping in the dirt. He shook his head violently, trying to shake off the overwhelming desire to go apologize to Holmgrim and beg for forgiveness.
I’ll find a job as a laborer in the fields. They always need workers.
He had taken three steps down the road when he heard the door of the smithy slam open behind him. A voice called out, “Remus!”
Remus looked back to see Axid running to catch up to him. He had never paid much attention to Axid. They had become friends because they worked in close proximity for long hours every day. But outside of work, he would have dismissed Axid as a waste of his time. There was nothing outwardly wrong with the young rune carver. Axid was a healthy young man with light brown hair and a face that could be could be considered attractive. He was just simple. Axid had no spark of ambition or intelligence in him. These impressions flashed through his mind as he watched his friend approach. And while his thoughts still seemed valid, Remus was touched that Axid cared enough to run after him despite what he had just said to Holmgrim.
“Remus,” Axid repeated. “Wait.”
“What do you want?” Remus stopped to let Axid catch up.
“You don’t have to do this. Sentras gave you a second chance. Holmgrim will take you back, you know he will.”
“I can’t go back.”
“Why not?” Axid
looked genuinely confused.
Remus’s anger flared. “You saw what they did to my work! You heard the story about Holmgrim’s past. He chose this place, this life. He turned his back on greatness, and now he’s going to pay the price for it when House Lome shows up. Both Sentras and Holmgrim are chained to a system that they surrender to. Their lives are not their own. I’ll not accept that yoke. I’ll be stronger than that, no matter what price I have to pay.”
“Why do you hate Holmgrim? He’s been good to us. Maybe he had good reasons for the choices he made.”
“I don’t hate him. I’ve just learned all that I can from him. He doesn’t understand why I would ever want to leave Delgrath. He wants to protect us from the same challenges and struggles he faced. But he was defeated by those challenges; otherwise he would not be hiding out here. I would rather be broken while trying to achieve greatness than to never try at all.”
“But you heard Sentras, you won’t be able to join the guild if you don’t stay.”
All Axid cares about is things staying the same. If nothing ever changed, he would be happy. Just follow the rules and everything works out.
“I don’t know if I want to be in the guild anymore.”
“But if you don’t join the guild, you’ll never work with runes.”
“I don’t need anyone else’s permission to study runes.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He waited for Axid to think it through.
Shock registered on Axid’s face as it dawned on him what Remus meant. “Outlaw,” he mouthed, the word easily read from his lips as they formed it.
Chapter 6
EVENING HAD TURNED INTO night outside Brax’s tent. Through the open flap Aventine could see lightning bugs floating lazily above the grass in the clearing that separated the tent from the rest of the camp. She was tired. They had been marching hard for days and training every night when they stopped. As the sounds of the camp died down the night became almost peaceful, and she wanted nothing more than to go collapse in her own tent.