“What?” Keysa's eyes grew wide. “You actually met them?”
“We had to run, then I traveled with them down the coast.”
Sheyra felt uneasy from Keysa's increasing excitement.
“I can't believe this!”
Sheyra began to jog away, not sure how to respond. Keysa hurried to catch up to her.
“I knew the reports on the screens were lies! I mean, why would two escaped slaves attack a village? It didn't make any sense. What are they like?”
Sheyra thought for a moment. “They were both quiet, kind of brooding. You could tell they weren't like regular people. They'd just both seen a lot.”
“We've all seen a lot,” Keysa snorted.
“No, I mean, you could tell they weren't able to express their emotions to deal with the things they've seen.” Sheyra tried again, not sure if her explanation could be understood.
They turned to begin jogging back the way they had come. Sheyra thought about Brosen and Impyra, wondering if they still lived. The news of their death would spread quickly. She tried to convince herself that she would already know if they were dead.
Lost in thought, her eyes traced to the horizon. In the distance she saw a beam of light piercing the sky. She squinted. It must be her imagination. Watching the light, it did not waiver.
“Do you see that?” She asked, pointing toward the sky.
Keysa was silent, her eyes attempting to find what Sheyra was seeing.
“What is that?” She gasped when she finally caught sight of it.
“I don't know.”
They came around to where Nakiya was waiting. “Hurry up, ladies, we don't to be out here all day!”
Sheyra pointed to the light. “Look out there, what's that?”
Their trainer turned, annoyed, until she saw what Sheyra was pointing at.
“Oh my,” she breathed. “Keep running, I have to report to Talon.” Nakiya fumbled with her radio. “Boss, you want to come out here and look at this.”
They ran passed, unable to hear the response.
“What do you think?” Keysa whispered.
“It must be important. Maybe something dangerous.”
Quiet for the remainder of their run, they were both panting as they came to a stop. Talon was peering into the sky with a pair of binoculars as Nakiya stood quietly beside her, waiting for instruction. Pheyren had already disappeared, probably escaped to the indoors where it was warm.
“They're here,” Nakiya said to Talon.
The boss lowered the binoculars. “You,” she pointed at Sheyra, motioning her forward. “Have you ever seen this light before?”
“Never,” Sheyra shook he head. “I'm from the north, though.”
“I've never seen it, either.” Keysa pipped up hopefully.
Talon glanced at her from the corner of her eye but otherwise ignored her comment.
“There is an old legend among my people which speaks of the ancients who were capable of creating such a light. They used it to plead for aid from the gods.”
“Gods?” Sheyra wondered if it was an Ardnilian word, she'd never heard it before.
“Ah, of course, you do not know these things.” Talon said. “The gods are beings of great power which created this world. It is possible that light is similar to the one from the old story.”
Sheyra didn't understand. She had never heard of ancient peoples and certainly not gods. How could it be that such things were suddenly appearing when they clearly no longer existed.
“Are you sure it's not a weapon?” Keysa asked, squinting toward the horizon.
“The Empire has never made mention of such a thing.” Talon raised the binoculars. “It is worth investigating.”
“Sheyra!”
She turned to see Jairon jogging toward them, his face grim.
“Sorry, boss,” he said to Talon. “I need to talk to Sheyra, it's important.”
Talon nodded her consent.
“It's Lineya; she's been diagnosed with the plague. They've locked her in quarantine. Lorsen's been re-vaccinated but you'll need to head to medical to have a shot, too.”
“Shit,” Sheyra dragged her fingers through her hair. “How is she?”
“I don't know, she's behind glass and the doctor won’t let anyone in. Come on.”
“Go,” Talon nodded.
“I'll see you later,” Sheyra said to Keysa.
The young woman waved at her sadly. Sheyra followed Jairon, her mind racing. Her worst fears were realized. She didn't know if Lineya would be strong enough to fight off the illness. Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered the girl cheerfully holding up the purple sweater at that store.
Too late.
Sheyra had been too late.
* * *
The Outrider was the Empire’s fastest ship. Traveling on the most direct route across the Northern Straight from Sa'Toret-Ekar to the northern naval base on Renenoors where the cotenants were at their closest point. The estimated travel time was just over twenty-four hours.
Impatient and driven by compulsion, Xander perched restlessly in the wheelhouse behind the helmsman. Shifting from leg to leg he felt the Seeker sway comfortably against his thigh.
“I know this isn't the fastest this tub is capable of going,” he snapped.
“Your highness,” the helmsman said, attempting to remain patient, “We are going as fast as we can. These are not optimal conditions. If we hit any ice, we'll be swimming instead.”
Xander gripped the hilt of his sword. “Watch your mouth, Enforcer, or I'll have your head.”
His thoughts were overrun by a momentary image of the bodies of the crew slipping into the water, screaming and gasping for air. The sensation of panic as muscles froze and heartbeats slow bubbled through his veins. He licked his lips, intrigued by the possibilities.
The Enforcer clenched his jaw but forced a smile. “I do apologize, your highness.”
Dropped back into the moment, Xander blinked in confusion. The light was too bright. Outside the window the waves and seawater were in much sharper focus than they had been before. He felt dizzy.
“Your highness?” The ship’s captain was staring at him, concerned.
“What?” Xander glared, crossing his arms over his chest.
Unnerved, the captain looked away.
No one understands you. They all think you’re a fool.
A small yellow light began flashing on the ships radio.
“Outrider, go ahead,” the captain said flatly into the receiver.
“This is the Kooriellel coast guard reporting,” said the voice on the other end. “The Water Skipper has sunk outside the harbor, no survivors found. Repeat, no survivors found.”
Xander's eyes widened.
Lies.
He could feel Impyra’s life-force pulsating in the southwest, strong and steady.
Xander yanked the receiver from the captain's hand. “This is Kei Xander Kei'Oren. Sweep every inch of the coastline, do you hear me? She's alive! They're all alive! Search every house and business in Port Kooriellel until her conspirators are found!”
He threw the receiver down against the switchboard. The captain caught it as it bounced back into the air.
“Your highness,” he said, keeping his voice level, “perhaps it is best you head down to the galley and have a cup of hot tea. It may help calm your agitation.”
Xander envisioned the heads of the crew lodged on spikes attached to the bow of the ship; an old fashioned punishment for disobedience yet effective.
Redden the sea with their blood.
Xander fought the impulse to draw his sword. He knew the captain was right. There would be no benefit to slaughtering the crew before reaching Renenook. Fighting against the urge to kill, Xander stalked out of the wheelhouse; his heart pounding and his head aching from the effort.
Anger, even rage, was a common emotion he dealt with on a daily basis. There was something inexplicably different about his current emotional state. The vis
ions of violence were more than vivid; and the desire to see them carried out was almost too intense to bare.
Embrace your true self.
Perhaps it was merely stress. Resolving the issue with Impyra would sooth him, freeing his mind of torment.
* * *
Virikoor's house was backed by a low hill at the edge of a sparse forest located a few miles from town. The tiny building was made of weather-worn logs. A comforting wisp of smoke rose from the stone chimney. Looking at it gave Brosen a strange sense of comfort and longing.
The little car slid to a halt on a flattened patch of snow in front of the door.
“'Here we are,” Virikoor said triumphantly.
Brosen was glad they were stopped.
The door to the house swung open to reveal a swarm of children. A plump woman with a broad, smiling face appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. The children rushed out into the cold laughing and shouting wildly. Virikoor crouched low, spreading his arms to catch them in an embrace.
Over his shoulder Brosen heard Impyra exhale loudly; more innocents added onto her already overfull conscience.
“Let's just get going,” Impyra pleaded. “We have coats. We'll be fine.”
“I don't think they'll let us leave.” Brosen said, opening the door to join in the welcome.
There wasn't any way they would survive long with only the ratty old coats from the ship. It had been a nice gesture; enough to get them across the bay but not a permanent solution. He didn't like having to rely on strangers, either. Their current situation gave them little choice.
Opening the door, he unfolded himself from the cramped vehicle. Impyra wiggled her way out, her face flushed as she composed herself.
Patting each child on the head as he went Virikoor introduced his family. “This is Harvoor, Gritcha, Patarice, and Ergert.”
“Hello,” Impyra bobbed her head awkwardly.
“And this is Soorina, th'sun of m'sky,” Virikoor leapt forward, catching her in hug.
She laughed, pushing him away, embarrassed.
“Come, come breakfast's ready,” Soorina motioned for them to follow her into the small house.
Brosen didn't understand how they all fit into such a tiny space until he realized the front of the house was just that. The hill had been hollowed, opening more space for rooms beyond the small kitchen. Inside the earth it was warm; a sensible solution to long winters months.
Brosen and Impyra joined the family as they gathered around a small table, sitting shoulder to shoulder with the children. Virikoor helped Soorina bring plates of hotcakes and ham, each dish properly portioned for the age of each child.
“Thank you,” Brosen said uneasily as Virikoor handed him a plate.
“Do you think Gilly and the others will be all right?” Impyra asked once they were all seated
Virikoor took a large mouthful, considering her question as he chewed.
“We've been through worse,” he said at last, pulling up his sleeve to reveal a lighthouse tattoo.
“Not at th'table,” Soorina swatted his arm back.
“Gilly never told me about how you escaped,” Impyra continued.
Brosen was surprised she knew anything at all. “You're an escaped slave?”
“No,” Virikoor shook his head sadly. “I was released.” His eyes were distant. “I went back fer 'em. Gilert an' Moorya.”
Soorina held her husband's hand lovingly. “It's hard fer 'im to talk on, see?”
“Moorya was your sister, the one like me?” Impyra asked
“Impyra,” Brosen said, not wanting to press the issue.
“It's fine,” Virikoor waved his fork at Brosen. “It's fine.”
“Moorya was jus' a girl yet,” Soorina said before he could continue. “The ol' master wouldn't let 'er go. He was goin' t'let Gilert leave, but 'e wouldn't go without 'er.”
“They were very close,” Virikoor agreed. “He tried t'sneak 'er out when 'e was released.”
“You weren't kept by nobility,” Brosen noted quietly.
Only private owners were known to free their slaves. Nobles liked to breed lineages; it ensured a greater chance for loyalty.
“The ol'master's da was a war hero, back when th'army was more than jus' Enforcers. Earned a bit o'land and 'ad a fishin' business. Our da was captured in th'war. If Moorya hadn't 'ad them powers,” his voice trailed off.
“That's why Gilly joined Cap'n Dei'Brenen, he 'elps run slaves to th'Far Lands.” Soorina said quietly. “But it's jus' been a small operation.”
“Until we came along,” Brosen shook his head.
“We'elp hide 'em an' send 'em on their way t'the contact 'cross the border.” Virikoor shrugged.
“There's a contact across the border?” The news lifted a heavy weight from Brosen's shoulders. “That's good news.”
Virikoor smiled, taking another mouthful of breakfast.
From outside there was the noise of a vehicle sliding on snow. Soorina's eyes widened as she stretched to look out the window.
“Enforcers,” she whispered.
“Quickly, to the bunker.” Virikoor said.
Moving as a solid unit the children cleared the table. Soorina ushered Brosen and Impyra deeper into the house. At the end of the narrow hallway was a hatch in the floor.
“Down here, stay quiet,” she said, pushing Brosen forward.
There was a short, steep staircase into the darkness. He half walked, half fell into a small root cellar. Impyra was close behind him. Soorina closed the hatch over their heads just as a loud pounding came at the door.
Standing close together, Brosen could feel Impyra's breath on his cheek as they stared up at a crack between the floor and the hatch. A small stream of light filtered through.
“We're searching for two traitors who may be in the vicinity,” a deep voice said from the front of the house.
“We've seen no one,” Virikoor said, his accent thicker than before.
“How many people are in the house?”
“Only six, me an m'wife an' children.”
“Step aside, every house must be searched.”
Heavy boots thudded against the wooden floorboards. Brosen felt Impyra tense beside him. The first door at the front of the hallway opened with a loud bang.
“Clear,” a second Enforcer's voice called out.
“Clear,” the first Enforcer echoed after checking the room across the hall.
Two more doors opened, both rooms declared free of any suspicious activity. Brosen could see them through the crack, dressed in full armor. They were expecting trouble. As if feeling his gaze, the Enforcer looked down.
“What's this in the floor?”
“That is nothing,” Soorina said, hurrying over. “Jus' a root cellar.”
“Check it,” he commanded.
Before Soorina could stop them his partner bent to open the trap door. Impyra grabbed Brosen's hand. He felt a rush of energy flow from the bottoms of his feet through the top of his head as the hatch swung open. The Enforcer shined the light of his White Energy gun down into the darkness. His eyes looked through them.
“It's clear,” he said, letting the door drop shut.
They listened as the heavy steps retreated back toward the front of the house.
“We need to check your outbuildings.”
“O’course,” Virikoor was saying. “I’ll show you.”
The front door closed. Brosen leaned heavily against the wall, lacing his fingers with Impyra's; that had been too close. Standing silently in the dark, waiting for the inspection to end. Virikoor returned and Soorina opened the hatch.
“They're gone,” she said apprehensively.
“I bet they came here because Virikoor is Gilert's brother,” Brosen pointed out. “You're putting yourselves at great risk having us here. We need to leave as quickly as possible.”
Virikoor, sat sadly at the table. “Gilly probably won't be home fer days,” he said. “Tonight, in the dark, we'll send
ya' out. Do ya know how to ride a motorcycle?”
Brosen felt his face brighten. “Actually, I do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
In the beginning, there were only the Spinners.
Spinning the thread of creation, they created the world and all life. Once their work was done their power was spent. Unable to influence their creation directly they were content to observe.
Born from the land, the first people were the Ekar; mortals who flourished and prospered. They knew little of the Watchers but named them for the attributes of the nature.
Tesche, the sunlight for guidance.
Awnor, the animals of land and sea.
Orna the fertility of fields and forests.
Darna, the water in all its forms.
Glavik, the darkness of the night.
The harmony of their creation pleased the Watchers, except for one who not content to merely observe. Desiring the lost power of creation, Glavik discovered that mortal minds often gave in to temptation. Unable to cause great change with his own power, Glavik reached into the hearts of the Ekar and began to twist their souls.
Famine, war, and plague spread, driven by the insatiable lust of for power. The plague, especially, was of great use to Glavik. As the mortals drifted near the veil of death a door was opened between worlds. Planting the seeds of darkness within the mortal form, the dead could rise as minions of the Dark Watcher's creation.
In desperation, the Ekar cried out to the Watchers who were helpless to aid in the people’s plight. Alone against a threat they did not understand, some of the people reached within themselves, discovering the spark inherent throughout all creation; energy. Realizing they were not helpless, they sought for those who were strongest with the gift.
Soon it became apparent what must be done. A sacrifice must be made. Two souls were offered to the Watchers. Entwining within the Light, they became a talisman of immeasurable power. Syerset.
The birth of Syerset was also the birth of a new Watcher; Deller-Brenth, the protector. Waves of energy flooded the land leaving new life in its wake. Two new races emerged from the Ekar, powerful in the use of magic.
The Tethselan, who were of the air.
The Akar, who were of the earth.
Able to clearly hear the voice of Deller-Brenth, the new races were tasked with protecting the Ekar from Glavik. Birthed from the same blood as the Ekar, they were also able to procreate and thus two more races emerged; the Dreave and the Sheadi.
Darkness Falling: Soldiers and Slaves Page 21