by Heath Pfaff
"I will be alright." I said, after a moment. Malice looked unconvinced, but Silent merely shrugged, still not meeting my eyes. I remembered, then, that it had been his voice I'd first heard coming to my aid after Liet killed the creature that was attacking me. He had sounded, at the time, like the friend he had once been to me. However, his face had reverted to a calm indifference again.
I turned my eyes skyward and saw that night had descended over us. I wondered if the Hungering would come again, or if we had destroyed their only hunting party. How badly had they wanted us dead? How many hunting parties had they sent? These questions assailed me again and again, first one, and then another - a ceaseless barrage of problems that I could find no answer to. The only solution I could reach was that we would need to keep moving.
If we pressed through the night, we might be able to reach the valley before the following evening. I was still tired, and my physical pain didn't help, but I'd at least had some rest while unconscious. Most of that energy had gone to healing, but I felt better than I had before the attack, at least as far as rest was concerned. My body was another matter entirely.
"If we each carry a child, it will ease our burden, and make our traveling faster." Malice said, a thought very much like the one that had been formulating in my head.
"If one of us carries two, then one of us will be free to carry Liet. We could run then, possibly meet up with the king by dawn." Silent offered. I had not thought to ask him if we were heading in the right direction, but obviously he had conferred with Malice at some point. Her intuition, it seemed, had been correct.
The children, hearing the conversation, ran to Malice, eager to be carried once more by her, for she was apparently the least scary of the three of us. She picked up two, and the other had to be satisfied with Silent's back. The smaller Knight, Silent, still looked as though his wounds were causing him pain. The children must have been able to wake him from his rest before he'd completely healed, an unusual occurrence, since in my experience when a Knight of Ethan passed out, they stayed out until their body had mostly recovered. Still, it was a fortunate turn of events.
I walked to Liet, and offered him my back. He looked on the verge of turning the offer down, but I spoke before he could refuse.
"I owe you a debt, Liet. Letting me repay that debt is the honorable thing to do." My words, I hoped, would disarm his worry about dishonoring himself as a knight by riding on my back, like a child. In truth, I knew that he needed the rest, and could not keep the pace we wished to set. He had more than earned a break, and if I could offer him one without harming his honor, then it was the least I could do for him after he'd saved my life.
He simply nodded, too tired to offer up any more resistance. He crawled onto my back, and we all started off in the direction of the king's camp, moving at a slow run, not fast, but far faster than the pace we'd been keeping until that point.
The quickened pacing, combined with my injuries and exhaustion, made me ache all over, but there was a certain exhilaration to be had in charging through the snow. Some part of me, a place in my heart that was feral and wild, remembered a time when it had hunted, running through the snowy fields after game, teasing and tormenting it, finding a near sexual pleasure in the rush of the kill. I realized, even as that thought occurred to me, that it was not I whose heart soared at such a vision. That half-memory, that instinctual love of chasing through the snow, that was something inherited from the Fell Beast whose arms and legs I'd taken.
With that realization also came a sudden fear. I had not known that any memories, anything other than the limbs themselves, had remained after I took them. There it was though, as the snow pressed between my pawed feet and the wind brushed the fur on my exposed arms, I remembered what it was to be the most feared beast in all the lands. I could remember how good it felt to sink my teeth into the flesh of fresh prey, and feel its life ebbing out into my waiting maw.
I stopped that line of thought as soon as it started, stifling it with a vengeance. Never before, though I had run through winter woods many times, had I ever felt such a keen hunger. I wondered if it was something experienced by all Knights of Ethan, or if it was a peculiarity specific to me. Either way, the prospect truly scared me. I would need to talk to Malice about it, when next I had a spare moment.
I pushed those thoughts aside, forcing back those vivid, instinctual memories that threatened to overcome me, and pressed forward through the snow and cold. I was going to see Kay, and if I could run far enough, fast enough, I might even get to hold her in my arms again before the sun had reached its peak on the morrow. After four years of searching, that was a reality that was almost impossible to believe. I was so very close.
"You shouldn't have betrayed us. . ." Silent's words floated through my mind for the first time since he'd first uttered them. I had asked about Kay, and he had laughed and told me I shouldn't have betrayed Lucidil and the Broken Swords. A chill ran down my spine, and my eagerness to see my daughter was tempered by my fear.
We saw the black cloaks in the woods before we realized just how close we'd come to Lucidil's army. They skulked amidst the trees like ghosts, quiet sentinels of the snowy valley. It was Silent who saw them first, though he'd known to watch for them. I guessed that they had seen us as well, but they did not approach us. Lucidil would have warning that we were coming, which was a good thing, considering he was attempting to defend the valley. Had he not had scouts in place, I would have been worried.
We pressed on for another two hours, the sun already rising in the sky, casting early morning light down around us. A contingent of armed guards came from the woods before us, four black cloaked figures lead by a person I had not seen in over six years. Her skin was pristine, clear and pale, and her vivid blue eyes held the shocking clarity of color only possible of one with Uliona ancestry. Her almost white hair, a racial trait of her people, was longer than it had been, but it was still tied back in two equal tails that hung halfway down her back. She looked as youthful and vigorous as she ever had, though she approached our party with a much more stoic pace than when I'd first met her years before. She had, on that occasion, nearly knocked me from my feet in way of greeting.
We stopped our procession, depositing our precious cargo on the ground, for they were all awake now, and we had finally reached our destination. Ferocity, the Uliona Knight of Ethan, the only of her kind I'd ever met, stopped before us and studied us intently, looking from face to face with her shocking blue eyes. She settled on Silent.
"Who are these others?" She asked, gesturing at the humans who accompanied us. Her voice rang with the clip of command.
"They are refugees from the city who were unable to escape before the Hungering breeched the walls. Liet here," he indicated the knight. "Was instrumental in our making it this far. He has fought bravely, with more honor than I have seen in a long time." Silent's words did Liet justice, and I was glad to hear that.
Liet bowed deeply, going to one knee in the snow in front of Ferocity. "It was my honor and privilege to fight beside these Knights of Ethan, Mer'am. I could not do much, but I gave my all."
Ferocity considered the man for a time, and I could almost see her mind working, mulling over an idea. Finally, she spoke. "Fenerfen-Grif," She addressed one of the black cloaks, using the ancient numbering system to identify him. He was one hundred and eight. "See that the children are taken to a place where they can get warmed up, and find them something to eat." The member of the Black Patch Brigade snapped to attention, his eyes, normally so fierce, softening when they settled upon the children. He approached them on soft-padding feet and held out his hand. The children backed away, clutching on to Malice's cloak until she bent down to them and whispered.
"It will be alright. Fenerfen-Grif will take you to get warmed up and make sure you have a nice, safe place to sleep tonight." She smiled, an expression she rarely wore, and the children seemed comforted. The children released her hesitantly, and latched onto the proffered hand and cloak of the king's
other brand of monster. It was strange to see such a brutal creature treat the children with such gentleness. His ilk had violated and murdered Wisp, and I could not forget that.
"Grawfen-Grot, take Sir Liet to the medical Pavilion to see Father. He will know how to best treat the wounds, and possibly even get him back in fighting condition." Ferocity said next, addressing number fifty-seven.
I watched the black cloak respond to her words, and I thought, for a moment, I saw hesitation in its motion. A strange expression flitted across its face, but it passed quickly. Liet turned and bowed to Malice, Silent and me one final time, before following the black cloak away, leaving us with just Ferocity and two other black cloaks. I watched him depart, a sudden foreboding coming over me. Why, I wondered, did I feel that I might never see him again?
Ferocity spoke, addressing Silent.
"What happened to the others?" She asked him, her voice less commanding now that the humans had left, though her tone said she already knew the answer to her question.
Silent simply shook his head a negative reply, not needing to say anything more on the subject.
Ferocity sighed heavily before turning to look at me. "You've cost us a lot, Noble." She bit the last word off sharply, letting me know what the she thought of the title. "Weaver has staked a good deal on your importance in these matters, and I'm inclined to trust in his decisions. However, had I been in his place, I would not have valued you so highly."
"Where is Kay?" I asked, not interested in her reprimands. I had come too far, and been through too much to be rattled or swayed from my purpose.
She smiled, and it was that same sort of smile that I had seen on Silent's face. My heart raced in my chest, but as it did, a sense of calm spread over me, and I heard words, a female voice, "We've run so far, but let us run a little further. The fire burns ever quicker, and we must become the rain." I looked around, checking to see if anyone else had heard the voice. The others all stood in silence, except for Ferocity, who was answering my question.
". . . he will answer that question himself. He likes you, Noble, but he needs you to know your place." With those words, those terrifying words, she turned and began walking away, obviously with the intent that we would follow. I fell in behind her, as did Malice and Silent. Silent walked ahead of us, Malice at my side. I looked to my green-eyed companion, her focus was fixed on Ferocity's back, and such a look of wrath was burning in her eyes. I reached out and touched her arm. Malice jumped.
"Calm, my friend." I said softly.
When she looked at me, it was not calmness I saw raging behind her eyes. She softened her expression for me, but beneath that softness, her green eyes burned like bog fire, all-consuming and dangerous.
I had long wondered what I would do when I came face to face with Lucidil again, but now I wondered what Malice might do. I sensed in her a great rising of vengeful anger, and I did not think it could be so easily quelled. Lucidil, Weaver, whatever he chose to go by, had better speak wisely, I thought, because if Malice decided to kill him, I was not certain any force could stay her from her course. She was an element of destruction, a storm of blades and claw that would not be denied.
I focused my eyes on Ferocity's back, and followed the Uliona woman. She moved with a Knight's grace, but her sway, her underlying motion, reminded me of Kye. It was foolish to compare the two of them, for Kye had never ascended to the Knights, but they were both Uliona, and as such, they shared some physical traits. I could not look at Ferocity without thinking of my lost love. I looked once more at Malice, and saw the firm set of her jaw, the determined hardness in her eyes.
If she attacked, I told myself, I would come to her aid. I would not let my green-eyed friend fight alone. If the chance came, and there was a break in battle, I would take Kay and we would all escape together. I held no illusions, however. We were walking into the middle of Lucidil's war camp, and if it came to blows, Malice and I would have very little chance of escaping intact.
I expected that we would walk into a massive camp, with lines of fortifications bordering thousands of tents, but that was not what happened. Instead, we passed by large groups of soldiers, large bands, never further than eye distance apart, but clumped into heavily fortified groups. They'd begun the project of assembling a strange type of weapon, the likes of which I'd never seen, and seemed less intent upon traditional trench digging and wall building, than on whatever it was that this new project entailed. The contraption, whatever it was, looked like a battering ram, but the primary beam, the one that would have traditionally been used to smash down gates, was straight up and down, and capped in a dull, heavy steel nose piece. It seemed an odd device, and I could not fathom its purpose at the time.
We walked past a great number of these, tens of thousands of men and women soldiers manning the strange contraptions. Whatever Lucidil was doing, it was on a truly epic scale. Would it be enough? That I couldn't know. The Hungering seemed to come endlessly, as though their numbers never decreased. Every time they came, more of them seemed to creep in, as though they were the tide returning to the claim the land.
To my surprise we proceeded straight through the valley and out the other side, Ferocity leading us on a silent march until finally, after some hours of walking, we reached the first I'd seen of something that looked like a military camp. It was small, however, maybe large enough to house a hundred men. It was unfortified, and seemed only to be in place to offer a base of operations. We were nearing Weaver, and that meant we were nearing Kay. I clasped my fists closed, my hands verily shaking. Four years of waiting were finally nearing an end.
Ferocity guided us to the center of the tents, past many faces, though I noted very few Knights of Ethan, maybe only four or five in the entire group. In the center of the camp was a larger tent, the king's banner flowing freely from its main mast. Outside of it stood two stoic Knights of Ethan, neither of whom I knew. When they saw Ferocity they let us by, but not without eying Malice and me with contempt and suspicion. As we stepped into the tent the light inside seemed dim at first, but my eyes adjusted quickly. The tent was spacious. There was a large area off to one side, padded for sleep, and at the far side of the canvass structure was a great table strewn with maps and papers, scrolls and reports piled high. Sitting in a chair, his head bowed low over his work, Weaver, the King of Men, sat in silent study.
"My King. . ." Ferocity addressed him formally, though I knew that they were lovers. Lucidil looked up, saw Ferocity, and smiled. His eyes fell on me and his smile grew wider. He stood up from his desk, and in a flash he was next to me. His red-Knight's eyes glowing with remembered kinship. His hair hung bedraggled and as roguish as ever, black and lanky, covering part of his face before he tossed his head to cast it away. He still wore a scraggly beard, and had that odd mix of softness and hardness about his features that I had never seen on another person. He had not changed a bit since last I'd seen him.
He put his arms around me, squeezing me tight, as though I were a long lost brother returned to him after having been reported killed in battle. I didn't know how to react, because of all the scenarios I had envisioned, such affection had never crossed my mind. As his arms circled me, and he patted my back, I couldn't help but think of Wisp, and think of the four years I'd spent locked away from my daughter. My eyes stung with tears. That the man who had caused all that pain would think that I could ever hold camaraderie for him again destroyed my ability to reason. He separated from me, stepping back to look at me as a whole. I did my best to hide the pain I felt inside, and the rage that I felt directed at the red-eyed warrior.
"It has been too long, Noble, but I can't tell you how glad I am to have you back amongst us. With you here, I think we can defeat this enemy at last." There was a conviction in Lucidil's voice that surprised me. I was left to wonder, again, why he held such stock in my importance. It made no difference at that time. One matter held precedence over all others.
"Let me see Kay." It was all I wanted, and I would d
iscuss nothing else until I saw her safe and sound.
Weaver's smile faltered, but did not fade. He nodded his head. "I thought you would want to see her." He paused for a moment, and then his eyes locked on mine. "I will let you see her now, and after that as often as you want, but for this first time, there is a rule. You must not speak to her, and you must not make any move towards her. Do you understand?"
"What?" I asked incredulously, my ire rising. I felt my hand upon my sword hilt, but it was not my steel that was drawn first. I heard the motion before I even saw Malice move. When I glanced her way, her blade was free of its leather binding, and out in front of her, as steady as a rock, though there was only half a weapon remaining, for she had broken the blade in our last fight with the hungering.
"You stole our . . . you took Kay away from us, and now you have the nerve to put stipulations on us seeing her again?" Malice's voice was dangerous, and I did not doubt that she would attack in a moment. I left my hand on my sword hilt.
"Malice. . ." Weaver looked at her as if noticing her for the first time. "You've become even more beautiful than you were when I first trained you. It has been a long time . . . too long." He did not draw steel. "Put away your sword. This rule exists for a reason. You must remember that you've been gone a long time. Much has changed in the time you were away. Don't make me give you an ultimatum." His last words were an ultimatum of their own sort. Malice returned her sword to its scabbard reluctantly, but her hand did not stray far. I looked to my green-eyed friend, and I knew that it was just a matter of time before she lost her control. Never before had I seen rage written so vigorously upon her countenance. In her world, at that moment, only she and Lucidil existed.