The Glimmer Steel Saga, Boxed Set, Books 1 - 4

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The Glimmer Steel Saga, Boxed Set, Books 1 - 4 Page 89

by Spencer Pierson


  Aiden watched the Ambassador’s smile hold firm, but there was as light tightening around the eyes. “Duke Valeran wouldn’t do that,” Carsh said quickly. “He’s not the type to sacrifice a whole people for petty revenge.”

  Stelios squinted one of his eyes and cocked his head at the Ambassador, frowning. “You did tell us that if we didn’t do as you asked, that Caitrel would go over to the enemy’s side, didn’t you? The Duke didn’t take what you had said lightly, my Lord Ambassador, seeing as how you are empowered to speak for Duke Caitrel. Are you saying that wasn’t true?”

  Aiden watched the Ambassador begin to crumble ever so slightly. A trickle of sweat edged its way down the side of his eye and along his cheek.

  Stelios, for his part, let the man stew for a moment longer but Aiden was tired of it. Finally stepping forward, he touched Stelios on the arm, getting his attention and then his nod. Aiden studied Carsh for a long moment, but it was clear the Ambassador had no clue who he was.

  “Don’t worry, Ambassador Carsh, I didn’t do anything to your precious city. However, I did go to Caitrel, and I saved your wall. Now, let my mother go.”

  Carsh eyed him, putting two and two together quickly. Aiden could tell the moment when he realized who he was, but instead of agreeing with him, the man let a sly look slide across his face. “Ah, so this is the Duke’s pet? And how am I supposed to know you have done as you said? Your Duke has been delaying and obstructing any relief to go to my country for weeks.”

  “Who told you that?” Aiden said, his eyes narrowing. “Who told you we’ve been delaying anything?”

  The Ambassador snorted. “I have my sources, even in your city. You’d had gates up to Riften and Terek and then just stopped. I was told the Duke was even laughing about it. It was clear you were delaying so that Caitrel and Banum became even weaker…”

  “Wrong,” Aiden said, interrupting the loud man. “I have been to Caitrel and the front line already. I even discovered what was causing your plague which the Naiaden troops were willing to go, despite it and the risk to the rest of our lands.” Aiden began to walk forward, pacing slowly toward the now wide-eyed Carsh and stopping just in front of him, driving his finger into the fat man’s chest. “I was just there, with some few Naiadens, to stop an approaching army. Now, I’ve already killed several thousand men today, and I am done fooling around with the likes of you. Don’t get my next question wrong. Where. Is. My. Mother.”

  The Ambassador blinked, but something must have sunk through his nigh-impregnable skin because he didn’t answer back, but just nodded and raised his hand, making a waving motion.

  It wasn’t a second later that Dame Tenadine stormed onto the deck from the back cabin, her face a thunderstorm. She didn’t waiver on her march towards Aiden, and at first he thought she was going to wrap him in a hug of thankful greeting. Instead, she socked Ambassador Carsh in the face and then proceeded to kick him several times while he was rolling and howling on the deck of the ship.

  No one felt like stopping her immediately. Instead, Stelios, Gavin, and Markam came to stand beside Aiden and watch the man getting the beginnings of his just desserts. Only when his mother began to grow tired and re-use some of her colorful curses did Stelios step in with two of his men and take the sputtering Ambassador into custody.

  “Stelios, are you going to take him to Ahnarad? I would really like to know who was giving him his information.”

  Stelios only eyed him for a moment before nodding. “I can assure you that is on top of my list as well, though I can guess. Who do we know that has already had traffic with Feldar?”

  Aiden frowned and nodded. Lord Dolgren. That man had a lot to answer for and Aiden would have to make time for him soon.

  Chapter 27

  When Aiden re-appeared at the camp in Caitrel with Gavin and Markam it was just slipping from late afternoon into dusk. The rim of the sun was just beginning to slide behind the mountains, and the long shadows of the newly-grown forest were striking, making it seem even darker than it was. It was not hard with the canopy stretching far above them though there was no sound of animal life.

  At first, Aiden wondered if birds simply hadn’t found the verdant area yet, but as he stood in the newly cleared area, he could feel something dark pulsing beyond his sight. It was in the direction of where the battle, or more appropriately, where the death had taken place. Like a palpable creature, it sat waiting for its master.

  “Aiden, this isn’t the camp. Where are we?” Gavin asked, looking around in bafflement.

  “This is Camp Swamp Gas,” Aiden said absently, watching as several hundred soldiers worked to clear a space in the forest behind the wall. “Remember when I told you that the death rays made things grow? This is what happened.”

  He noted that they had also built some stockades for the prisoners that had been wandering out in the forest. They didn’t look overly sturdy, but none of the men looked to be interested in trying to escape or were even aware of where they were. Most of them had a confused look that made Aiden wonder if they even realized they were soldiers.

  The wall that they had all been defending was also almost unrecognizable since it now looked more like a curious line of trees then cut wood. All of the beams had taken root and grown new bark with limbs that stretched up and added to the thick canopy. It was easier to see now that some of the undergrowth had been cleared away but still a strange sight.

  “It’s not Camp Swamp Gas anymore, kid. They’re calling it the Green Wall now.” Stitch said, coming up behind them. Gavin and Markam both looked at the grizzled veteran’s hand, then toward Aiden in surprise.

  “You weren’t kidding, were you, Aiden?” Gavin said, his voice full of awe before he began to look around at the men working around them. “And many of these men were dead?”

  “Yeah,” Stitch said with an unreadable expression on his face and a shrug. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it. There are a lot of them, the ones that clawed their way out of graves and deep mud, that aren’t acting right. The Norpon soldiers that died just outside the walls are like that, too, if they died more than a day or so ago. It’s like they forget most everything about themselves, but they’re responding to some words and orders, so we’re having them work. Sometimes they even remember things after they do something.”

  “I don’t know what to make of that,” Gavin said, frowning at the activity going on around him.

  “No one does, kid. I know some of those men were dead. Gone dead,” Stitch said, squinting at Gavin before pointing in the direction of the wall. “Go that way a few hundred meters and you’ll find what we were facing, or what’s left of them.”

  “Has anyone gone out there yet?” Aiden asked.

  Stitch paused and scowled. “Jackob sent some men just to the edge of the scar. No one has tried to get too close to it yet, much less step out onto the ground. I can’t blame them. The closer you get, the more cursed it feels.

  “Cursed?” Aiden asked quietly.

  “Yeah, cursed.” Stitch said, shrugging. “That’s the best word I can give it. You should find the Naiaden woman. She’s been waiting for you, kid. I’m pretty sure she has some questions for you about what happened out there.”

  Gavin made to follow Aiden with Markam close behind. “Is this going to give me nightmares about you, Aiden?” Gavin asked. “I swear, the spider things on the ship were enough, you don’t have to try to top that.”

  Aiden sighed, glancing at his friend and shrugging. “Honestly? I think it might. You don’t have to come if you don’t wish to.”

  Gavin clapped him on the back. “What are friends for if not to share in the nightmares, Aiden?”

  Aiden grinned at his friend while they walked over to where Carol was working with several other Naiadens and Caitrel soldiers. When he walked up, however, she stopped and nodded to him.

  “Good, I’m glad you came back so soon. I don’t know what to expect out there, but felt it was necessar
y for you to be here with us.” She waived for Oya Dihya to finish what she was doing and come over.

  The tall Exemplar put down the newly logged tree she had been carrying and walked over with two others. “It is time then?”

  Carol nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yes. It is time to respect the dead.”

  It was apparent that some Naiadens had already cut a doorway into the once-dead wall. It hadn’t been easy, and Aiden could see where several of the branches from neighboring wood and trees had been unraveled from the chaotic mess of the canopy. There were also several rough trails that had been hacked through the forest leading to and away from the doorway as they collected the lost enemy troops that had been wandering outside of the wall after the battle.

  None of them led directly to the looming presence as they drew nearer to the edge of the forest. Before they got closer, Gavin had to lead the way with his sword. The blade cut through the foliage easily, and anything larger that needed to be moved out of the way, the Exemplars were able to handle without issue.

  But Aiden couldn’t find a better word for what he felt as they moved closer and closer to the field of death than the one Stitch had coined. Curse. This whole place, in fact, resonated with that word. The true alien nature of what surrounded them made his skin crawl, and he suspected that it wasn’t going to be easy to look at the faces of the damned souls that he’d ripped from life.

  As the blackened landscape slowly came into view beyond the rich green’s and browns of the forest, his steps slowed. Even the Exemplars, stoic and strong, did not hurry to see what lay before them and when they finally came out on the edge of the green grass, they were all shocked by what they saw.

  It was as if a sword had cut a razor’s line between the living and dead and there was not a blade or leaf that had ventured beyond their battle line. The ground beyond was not just dark; it was drained of any sense of life at all. What was worse is that it hungered to be filled.

  There was a faint pull that Aiden could feel, and when he held his hand out and looked at his companions, he could tell they felt it too. Most did not know what it was, but Carol had a grief-stricken look on her face, and she refused to meet Aiden’s gaze. Though extremely faint, it was the same wet-sand feel that he’d felt when the Floater had tried to take his life, and also that which he’d inflicted on these soldiers in the thousands.

  Their dark faces of the dead told the story, those that hadn’t collapsed into puddles of ash. Screaming in silent, terrible pain and hands raised to the sky, the corpses of these men cursed him in silent rage. He was here to witness the dead, but he wouldn’t have resisted if they’d all came to life and dragged him back with them. He would take that punishment because this was not war. This was devastation.

  The walking stick fell to the earth, out of his numb fingers.

  “What have I become,” Aiden said quietly, into the silence.

  That was when he saw the crimson figure out on the black scar he had created, silent and forlorn.

  The Mourning Lord stood silently, waiting for him.

  Chapter 28

  The Mourning Lord did not look at him as walked across the bleak landscape, preferring instead to contemplate the death around them both. Aiden had come alone and unafraid, but as he drew closer, he stopped far enough away that the creature that made up the Mourning Lords living robe wouldn’t have an easy time to striking at him.

  “Aiden,” the brooding figure said in its sonorous, deep voice. “I was wondering how long it would take you to visit your handiwork. I must say that even I was surprised at this display of power. I would ask you how you did it, but I doubt you would tell me. In addition,” he paused, turning slightly so that the hollow eyes in the metal mask he wore seemed to be glancing in Aiden’s direction, “I doubt I would understand.”

  “What do you want,” Aiden said, stone-faced. “Have you come here to mock me? Ask me to kill myself again?”

  The figure paused and turned fully to face Aiden. “No. No, you are far too useful that, I’m afraid. It would be foolish of me to try to destroy my best tool, don’t you think?”

  Aiden felt his eyes narrow in confusion and anger. “What? What do you mean, tool? I’ve just destroyed one of your armies and those…abominations you created. You can’t possibly call me one of your tools!”

  The Mourning Lord let out a low chuckle as he paced over to a half-broken statue of several soldiers. Their rictus screams of pain frozen in the already-corroding ash. As the Mourning Lord drew near, he began to caress the frozen face with his metal-clad fingers. “Do you honestly think that losing a few months or even years of plans is a disaster to me? Honestly? I’ve lived for thousands of years, Aiden. In that time I’ve watched this world pull itself back from barbarism and shepherded it carefully into its current age. All because of the horrific things I did to it thousands of years ago.”

  In a flash, the clawed hand closed, crushing the ashen figure into a puff of particles and dust. “But now, when I am still driven by these four thousand-year-old piles of dust and my entire existence is to serve as the monster to their nightmares. Now comes another to take my place.”

  “What do you mean? I’m nothing like you. How could you possibly say that? I’ve done nothing but try to help others. I defeated an army, your army, to save an entire Duchy!”

  The Mourning Lord didn’t answer right away, instead simply looking down at its closed hand and nodding slowly, watching the ash fly in the wind as he slowly opened it. “Yes, you defeated them. Turned them to dust, and left them screaming on this field of our making. Do you think that all of them will love you for it, Aiden? Do you think that, in time, when you don’t come to their villages and heal their young, or bring their old ones back to life, that they will praise your name? Do you think they will remember the mighty forest you created or the field of death that we stand in now.” The Mourning Lord turned on the last sentence, staring at Aiden. “Tell me, Aiden. What do you think they will call you in their hushed, hidden voices?”

  “I…I don’t know. I’m not evil!” Aiden screamed, backing up and tripping over something on the ground. He fell, feeling the dust push through his fingers. No, he corrected himself, not dust. The dead.

  “What do you think they will call you, Aiden,” the Mourning Lord said, stepping closer to him. Menacing and looming over his fallen form.

  Aiden looked down at his hands in horror as tears from his face fell into them. He tried to shake the dust off, but the mud just smeared and made his hands turn black. “I’m not. I’m not a monster!”

  “Yes… that’s the word. Exactly the word no matter how much you will wish it to be different. I told you so long ago that I wished for you to save me, Aiden, and that is how you shall do it. You shall become a monster far worse than I. The memory of I and my brethren shall fade into the dimness of history while yours shall eclipse us like a black sun.” The tall figure stopped, standing above him like a looming storm, half whispering even as Aiden heard the pounding of Naiaden feet racing toward him. “No, Aiden, prepare for more plagues and terrible things to befall you and your world, because I will make you save me. You will have no choice but to become the savior they scream for, and in the end, you shall fail every one of them in their adoration of you. But you shall save me, and I, at least, will thank you for it.”

  The figure faded, even as he stared up at it in horror. The mask did not change, but he could almost see a smile on its face through his blurry tears. He hadn’t even noticed he was screaming until the figure disappeared entirely and Oya Dihya ran up, driving her spear through the air the Mourning Lord had previously been occupying.

  ***

  Aiden made his way back to where Carol and Gavin were waiting, pausing and looking down at his walking stick. He knew now what he’d done, and he didn’t know if he ever wanted to see his weapon again. He was a monster, whether they called him that now or later, he knew he’d fallen right into what the Mourning Lord wanted.

  “Pick it up,
Aiden,” Carol said, watching him carefully.

  Aiden shook his head, his tear-streaked face morose as he continued to stare down at his staff of destruction. “I...I can’t. I’m a monster. I’ll just kill more people with it. You should take it,” He said, looking up into the eyes of Carol as desperation fought with resignation.

  “No,” Carol said simply. Her heart was breaking, but she wasn’t going to let this moment become the death of Aiden. “You are the only one that can pick it back up, Aiden.”

  “They can! Gavin can, or…or Oya Dihya,” Aiden cried, taking a step away from the instrument he’d created. “She’s a general or something. The weapons you already have are so terrible! Would this one be any more terrible?”

  “And what would happen if someone else did pick up this thing you’ve made, Aiden. What would happen when someone else, in your name, began sweeping whole armies from the field of battle or worse, people in a town or city?” Carol sighed, walking until she was standing on the other side of the stick from Aiden. “In war, sometimes what you have to do is terrible, but you would not be the first nor will you be the last to do terrible things to protect those you care for.”

 

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