by Kris A Hiatt
“And the second arrow made sure that we couldn’t get any information out of him,” Moff went on.
“Put down the bow, Moff,” Kiril instructed. “Treace is right. Like he said earlier, if he wanted us dead, he would have just killed us in our sleep. He could have shot any of us just now. He didn’t.”
“Put it down, Moff,” Treace bade him.
Moffred let the tension out of the bow but left the arrow knocked. “Where’d you go?”
“I woke up to pee and noticed that no one was watching over the camp. I grabbed my bow and went out. I followed Treace’s steps until I saw light in the distance. I decided to circle around and try to get ahead of them. I came across the other group of guards that must have come from the other post. I recognized them immediately and was on my way back to you when the fight started,” Raythien explained.
“Good story,” Moff replied.
“It’s the truth,” Raythien argued.
“Enough!” Treace told them. He turned to Moff. “He came back, that’s what matters.”
“I am not an enemy,” Raythien assured them.
“You’re certain they were Shamir’s men?” Treace asked.
“Positive. I’ve seen that one several times before,” Raythien said, pointing at the man he’d shot.
“What do we do from here?” Kiril asked.
“We find those posts and make sure there aren’t any more of Shamir’s men in them,” Treace explained.
“And if there are?” Moff asked.
“We kill them too,” Raythien replied.
It sounded callous to Treace. “Or we make them surrender.”
“If Shamir’s men are in those posts, I assure you he didn’t ask their previous occupants to surrender. They are dead,” Raythien shot back.
“That’s the difference between me and Shamir,” Treace replied. “I don’t take lives that I don’t have to.”
“He’s right,” Kiril added. “We can’t just kill them.”
“Sure we can,” Moff argued. “If they killed our men, we kill them.”
“So you’re agreeing with him now?” Treace asked. “That’s something I never thought I’d hear.”
“I’m agreeing with common sense,” Moff argued. “Besides, we can’t take them prisoner. We don’t have enough men to watch them.”
“They will get the opportunity to surrender,” Treace told them. “There’s no debate on it.”
“You’re the boss,” Raythien replied.
“I’ll give them one chance,” Moff said coldly. “If they refuse, they share the same fate as our men.”
“Agreed,” Kiril responded.
~~~
Treace crept toward the post. It was the second one they’d been to so far. They went to the one furthest to the west, but after taking their time at the approach, it was empty.
This was the next one in line. They were making their way from post to post as they progressed toward Kilindric. He was certain this one wasn’t empty.
Dawn had finally made its way to the world and while the snow had finally stopped, it was still overcast. Even through the snow-covered trees and gloomy day, he could see well enough to notice that there was smoke coming from the stack. There was a fire inside and that meant there were men occupying it.
He heard chatter from inside. What they were saying was indecipherable, but he could tell that there was at least one female in there.
“You ready?” he whispered back to his companions. Both Moff and Raythien had their bows at the ready and Kiril had her weapons strapped to her forearms.
“I’ll go left,” Raythien instructed.
“I’m going in first,” Treace told them. “I’ll move to the right. Moff, you come in third. Leave enough room for Kiril to come in after.”
“Ready,” Kiril said.
Treace readied himself and opened the door.
He rushed in, the others following directly behind him. He immediately scanned the room as he moved, swords drawn in front of him. There were three people in there; two males and one female. Treace was closest to the female, who sat on a bed by herself. One male sat at a table, eating oatmeal or something similar, and the other was using a knife to clean under his toenails on a bed behind the table. He didn’t notice any markings on their armor or any other telltale sign of which baron they served. “Don’t move!”
“What’s this?” the female asked.
“Who are you with?” Treace asked.
“Are you with Liernin or not?” Moffred asked at about the same time.
The man cleaning his toenails flicked his wrist and sent the knife flying.
Treace heard the knife stick into the wall behind them. An arrow instantly stuck out of the man’s chest.
“Wrong answer,” Raythien said, quickly drawing another arrow from his quiver.
“What about you?” Moff asked, pressing closer to the man at the table.
“To hell with you!” the man spat and reached back behind his chair.
Moff let his arrow fly and it dug deeply into the man’s chest. Even though he had an arrow buried in his chest, the man still stood and brought his mace up in front of him defensively. There wasn’t much light left in his eyes, making Treace think that he stood out of pure determination.
A second arrow found its mark. This time from Raythien’s bow. Whatever light was left had completely gone out. The remains of the man slumped back into the chair and slowly slid to the floor.
“Well aren’t you a bunch of assholes,” the woman remarked angrily.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Treace warned.
“You wouldn’t kill an unarmed woman would you?” she asked.
“We will if you make us,” Kiril said, stepping between Moff and Raythien.
“Oh honey,” the woman replied. “Us ladies need to stick together.”
“Save it,” Kiril replied.
“They must have stayed the night at the other post,” someone from outside called out.
Treace wondered which other post they were referring to.
“Run!” the woman screamed.
Raythien hurried to the door.
Treace heard what he guessed to be firewood clanking together as they bounced off the ground. Must be the man was doing precisely what he was told.
A moment later Treace heard that familiar twang.
The woman screamed and launched herself at Kiril. Treace noticed a dagger in her hand.
He didn’t think, he reacted. He stepped forward quickly, leading with his sword.
The woman wasn’t wearing any armor and his sword pierced the fabric and flesh beneath it. Her momentum carried her onto his sword all the way to the hilt.
“Assholes,” she sputtered after drawing her last breath.
Chapter 14
“Kilindric is ours,” Shamir informed him after reading the most recent message from a courier.
“We aren’t even halfway there,” Brental pointed out. “How is it ours already?”
He was riding comfortably in a wagon with the King during their advance on Liernin’s territory. He was glad he was in the wagon, but they hadn’t even rounded the bottom of the Gulf of Onneron to begin heading north. He supposed a small force could have broken off of the main unit and went ahead, but to make up that much ground they surely would have had to have left days ago. He thought he’d hear about that by now.
“Because I ordered the five hundred men I had camped a few days outside of town to go take it,” Shamir explained.
“Did they surrender it?” Brental asked.
“I told you there wouldn’t be any surrender.”
“Many families there are loyal to the College,” Brental said. “They’ve been serving us for years.”
“Not any more they’re not.”
“So you killed them all then?”
“That’s what happens in war,” a seemingly happy Shamir replied.
Brental thought the man was just as happy to have killed off the College’s he
lp as he was to take over Kilindric for his own. “Since when have we had five hundred men outside of Kilindric?”
“Oh, I had them build an encampment there months ago.”
“And you never thought to include me on that?”
“No, I didn’t,” Shamir said flatly. “I am the King.”
“And I am the King’s advisor,” Brental shot back. “It’s hard to advise on events I know nothing about.”
“I didn’t need your advice on it,” Shamir replied with a cold stare.
Brental decided it would be best to let it go. He couldn’t change what had already happened by arguing about it. It was tough to believe that all of his servants and workers were dead. He had no real love for them, but he didn’t hold any ill will toward them either. He knew there would be costs of war, but he didn’t think it would start with the people that had served him for years. Perhaps that was why Shamir chose to do it.
“Oh stop pouting,” Shamir instructed. “Many of your actual servants were spared. Their families were not, but any of them that were actually working that day were allowed to remain in the College.”
Brental didn’t think they’d remain loyal after hearing their families were slaughtered. They may have just as well killed them too. He doubted they would work for him anymore. Perhaps that was also part of Shamir’s plan. Maybe he wanted Brental to be the one to kill his most trusted servants. He looked into the King’s eyes and from the evil grin that spread upon his face, he knew his assumption to be correct.
“Fun, isn’t it?”
Brental declined to comment.
“Do you think Liernin knows yet?” Shamir asked a short time later.
“That you’ve taken Kilindric?”
“That his death is inevitable. Whether or not he knows about Kilindric is moot, though I have given instructions for the men to make it appear as though the town is still under Liernin’s control until we arrive.”
“I know we have the advantage in numbers, but if they remain in their fortified city, the advantage our numbers brings will be nullified,” Brental pointed out.
“It seems your time with Disdane wasn’t fully wasted after all. Maybe you have gathered something resembling knowledge of military tactics.”
Brental wanted to point out that Shamir didn’t have any knowledge of military tactics at all. Or at least not as much as he let on. Anyone who had been in the last war was long dead by now. The only knowledge they had were from books and journals recounting what had happened. Brental was probably more adept at it than Shamir was, but he knew better than to say so. “I’m a quick study.”
“Yes, I assume that you are,” Shamir agreed. “Speaking of quick study, I’d like to learn the history behind your magic.”
This was the first time Shamir had shown any interest in magic other than to know how it could help him. It was going to be a long trip, he supposed talking about the history of magic would be far better than discussing anything else with the man. “Since I believe you aren’t speaking of me and instead the history behind the magic itself, where would you like me to begin?”
“Quick study indeed,” Shamir remarked. “Where or what is the origin of your magic? Is it God, or Kaden, as I’ve heard before, or is it something else that you’ve kept hidden from me?”
“I’ve hidden nothing, but, to answer your question, some, like our Archbishop Vrindel, say that our magical abilities are gifts from God,” Brental replied.
“But you don’t believe that to be true, do you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Go on.”
“I’ve read the journals of every former Archmagister of my order. None of them speak of such things. Kaden was the first to be able to use magic, at least that much is clear.”
“So Kaden is the origin of magic?” Shamir asked, almost as if in confirmation of what he already believed.
“Many believe so, yes.”
“But again, you don’t?”
“Where did he learn it from?” Brental asked. It was a question that he couldn’t answer. None of the journals could answer it either, nor could any of their history books.
“God?”
“While I haven’t necessarily found it to be true, our good Archbishop tells us that God loves all of his creatures equally. Why single out one man and elevate him above all the rest?”
“Perhaps he saw the good my ancestor could do,” Shamir suggested.
“Perhaps,” Brental conceded. In truth, he didn’t believe Shamir to be a descendant of Kaden at all, but it didn’t really matter.
Shamir stroked his chin with his hand as if deep in thought. He didn’t say anything further and after a few more moments of silence Brental decided to do the same.
He missed Destin then. He tried to tell himself that he didn’t like the old man, but he did. Destin was intelligent, saw many things the same way he did, and could hold a conversation. Something Shamir couldn’t do. Too bad Destin had remained behind in Kadenton.
Chapter 15
“Do you really think it will work?” Kiril asked, riding her horse next to his.
He honestly wasn’t entirely certain that it would, but it did make sense. Both Drevic and Kint spoke of compartmentalizing their minds for each emotion. Treace thought that by grasping one emotion while in The Calm and mentally locking it in place somehow, they could grasp another emotion and use it directly after the other. At least that’s the message he thought Kint was trying to convey. It sounded simple enough. “I don’t know. But I think that’s the best way to get started.”
“Making compartments in your mind, huh?” Moff asked from atop his horse just behind them.
“How do you keep your mind from wandering?” Raythien asked from the front of the line. “I mean while you’re in that calm thing you do.”
Treace and Kiril had been discussing what it was that her father and Drevic had previously talked about. They were speaking openly and bouncing ideas off of one another freely. It didn’t occur to Treace that Raythien might be interested in the conversation. Raythien may not completely understand what they were speaking of, but Treace didn’t think it would hurt to try to fill in the gaps. “Lots of practice.”
“If only that were true,” Moff added sullenly.
“Not everyone can do it,” Treace explained. “But those that can do it typically practice it for hours and hours.”
“How do you do it?” Raythien asked. “I mean you specifically.”
“I do it by feeling no emotions yet all of them at the same time,” Treace replied.
“I let my mind go white,” Kiril added. “If that makes any sense.”
“It does, actually,” Treace told her. “The Archmagister’s robes were white because white contains all colors, signifying that the wearer has mastered all of the Paths. So you thinking of white could actually mean you’re thinking of all of them too.”
“It seems like such a long time ago,” Moff chimed in.
Treace raised an eyebrow in Moff’s direction.
“When we still used Archmagister instead of Archbishop,” Moff clarified.
“It does,” Treace agreed.
“I never thought of it that way,” Kiril said. “White contains all colors. Interesting.”
“It can’t be,” Raythien argued. “Black is a color and it seems to me that white would no longer be white if you added black to it.”
“White makes up all the colors of light, and black is the absence of light,” Treace explained. “Have you ever put light through a prism?”
Raythien mulled it over for a few moments. “That makes sense,” he said at last.
Treace didn’t think Raythien agreed with him on the topic, but at least the man was kind enough to let it go.
“Back on topic,” Kiril said. “Which of us is going to test it?”
“Me,” Treace replied.
“Is that because you simply want to protect me if something goes wrong?” Kiril asked.
“No,” Treace explaine
d, though that was his first instinct. He didn’t want her to stone-face herself. “I’ve been through all the training.”
“So have I,” Kiril argued. “And I’d say by the more powerful user too. No disrespect to the Archbishop.”
“She does have you there,” Moff said.
Treace knew that Drevic’s magic was strong, but Kint was stronger by far. She had a point there. If he didn’t agree then it would look like he was saying no just because he was trying to protect her. He wanted to say no, but he knew he couldn’t. That wouldn’t stop him from getting in one last thought. “You’re up then, even though I’m the one who has practice using magic while moving.”
“You were walking,” Kiril argued. “We are moving, but we’re on horses. It’s not the same.”
“Well, you needn’t worry about it now,” Raythien said, stopping his horse. “It’s time to stop. It’s best to scout ahead on foot for a bit. I think we are getting close to the next post, but I’m not certain. I’ll go up ahead and you can practice your magic, if you think it’s important you do so.”
Kiril flashed Treace a smile that clearly indicated that she’d won.
“I’m going with you,” Moff told Raythien before dismounting his horse.
“Still don’t trust me?”
“I don’t want to be here with them staring into each other’s eyes. It’s awkward.”
“It’s only awkward because you stare back,” Treace told him.
“No,” Kiril argued. “He’s mad that you’re staring into my eyes instead of his.”
“So you do finally trust me then?” Raythien asked.
“I’d rather take my chances with you shooting me in the back or losing me in the woods than to stay here with them,” Moff clarified, ignoring the insults.
“Now he’s pouting,” Treace said.
“I’m not pouting,” Moff replied.
“You think you aren’t, but you are,” Treace shot back.
“You think you’re clever, but you’re not,” Moff replied. “Those were my words to you about how you sulk.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re pouting,” Treace replied.
“Stop smiling,” Moff told Raythien. “Can we just go?”