They kept it small, wanting the wood to last the night. The small fire cast off enough heat to drive back the worst of the evenings cold.
They sat about the flames engaging in small talk while their shadows danced upon the rough stone of the canyon’s wall. Casius grew weary and leaned back against the cold rock watching the flames writhe upon the darkening wood.
Suni suddenly leapt over the fire towards Marcos. Behind the Tal’shear the darkness had taken on the form of a man. At Suni’s abrupt action Marcos pitched forward and rolled to the right.
Suni and the shadow collided; the darkness was cast aside in a deafening explosion of thunder and a flash of intense white light.
Casius was thrown back against the cliff face his sword partially drawn. His ears rang and his eyes burned. He blinked trying to see through the blue afterglow that blinded him.
He had caught the briefest glimpse of a tall white haired man in glittering armor grappling with Suni before the light blinded him. Within the thunderous blast he thought he had heard a scream of anguish that had ended abruptly.
His vision cleared slowly, the camp coming gradually into focus. On his left D’Yana stood with her knives drawn, her eyes swollen and watery. On his right Connell was coming to his feet, blinking fiercely.
Beyond the fire Marcos was on his knees above a prostrate Suni, the ring upon his left hand burning brightly in the gloom. He held his hand a few inches above Suni’s left shoulder. Thin tendrils of ethereal light fell from his fingertips caressing the Anghor Shok’s shoulder.
From the tautness of Suni’s muscles the man must have been in extreme agony. His Stoic countenance was unchanging as ever, he refused to allow any cry of pain to escape his lips.
They sheathed their blades and remained silent. They could see the intense concentration on Marcos’s features and dared not intrude. After several long minutes Suni’s limbs began to relax as the pain subsided.
Marcos allowed the light to die upon his hand and pulled Suni into an upright-seated position. “That is all I can do for you,” He said with a voice filled with sadness. “How is your arm?”
Suni looked to his left hand that lay motionless in his lap. “Dead,” He said simply, with no remorse or fear.
Marcos nodded, “It will improve with time.”
Suni shook his head. “We haven’t the time, you must summon a new Anghor Shok.”
“I will not do such a thing.” Marcos answered.
“I am useless to you now.”
“Nonsense,” Marcos said forcefully. “Even with one arm you are worth more to me than any other. I will not see you cast your life aside when I need you the most.” He shook his head as Suni began to argue the point. “I will hear no more of this, it is your place to serve until I release you.”
Suni lowered his head in acceptance. “I live but to serve.” Rising to his feet he tucked the useless limb into his sash and walked off into the darkness.
“Will he be all right?” D’Yana asked breaking the silence.
“In time,” Marcos replied. “One does not quickly heal from the touch of Sur’kar’s servants.”
“If that is so, why did he demand to be replaced?” D’Yana asked.
“Honor,” Marcos said. “He believes he can no longer protect me, therefore he must be replaced.”
“Then that was one of the Balhain?” Casius asked looking to where Suni stood staring off into the darkness.
“It was the shade of Gre’Koth,” Marcos said. “I was his intended target not Suni. He is marked now and will not draw so close again without my knowledge.”
“Then he yet lives,” D’Yana said with a trace of disappointment.
Marcos nodded. “If such an existence can be called living. The light burned him and he was forced to flee to save himself.” Marcos returned to the fire and held his hands to the flames for warmth. “Shadows are doorways for the Balhain. Traveling hundreds of miles in a mere step, they are dangerous adversaries. Remember this, no place is safe for there is always a touch of darkness during the brightest of days.”
“How were we discovered?” Connell wondered. “You have claimed that they can track you by your use of magic. But you have used none since we have made the crossing.”
“Suni saw one of the Balhain back at the stables. Perhaps the Balhain recognized him for what he is as well.” Marcos suggested. “A witness to our departure or a few well placed questions at the inn. Either way Sur’kar has assumed that we are heading west. He has sent hunters looking for us, and we were unfortunate to stray into the path of one. If they draw close enough they can sense my presence whether I use the Phay’ge or not. It is a part of me that I cannot keep completely hidden.”
“Then the Balhain has searched these canyons for days.” Connell added. “What else is out there lying in wait?”
“Will he come back?” Casius asked wondering if lingering about was such a good idea.
“No,” Marcos answered as he began to gather his gear. He motioned for the others to do the same. “Gre’Koth will not be the same for several days. There are other servants of the dark to be wary of and my attack shone as a beacon all the way to the lands of Tarok nor. The prudent thing for us to do now is leave, for our enemy is surely coming.”
“Maybe you should summon another Anghor Shok,” Casius offered. “Two warriors of such skill could only improve our odds.”
“The new Anghor Shok would slay Suni before assuming his duties.”
“Why?” Casius asked shocked by such a practice.
“There can only be one Anghor Shok, should another arrive they would fight for the honor. It is their way of ensuring only the strongest and most skilled become the protectors of the warders. Duels of that sort are only decided by the death of one of the combatants.”
Suni returned to the fire his face an expressionless mask. He met their gazes one by one; the firm set of his jaw deterred any conversation. Only Casius held his gaze for any length of time.
With a nod of respect Suni gathered his gear and saddled his horse. He accomplished these tasks with such speed and ease one would assume he had been born with the use of only one arm.
The way ahead was dark and treacherous, the Canyon walls had closed in and now they followed a narrow track that led steeply uphill. The stone above them was cracked, splintered by countless fissures. The fall of small pebbles echoed in the darkness as they passed.
The thin ribbon of stars above their heads faded as the sky brightened into a fiery orange with the coming sunrise. Connell led them up a steep slope of lose scree and out of the canyon.
A boulder-strewn plain stretched off to the western horizon. Behind them the flat-topped Mesas lay, the landscape resembling a shattered piece of clay pottery.
Connell had them dismount to rest the horses. “Welcome to Brymir.” He announced. “We could make camp within those trees.” He suggested pointing to a grove of acacias several miles to the northwest.
The trees were a dark blot on the barren landscape. They were short hardly ten to twelve feet in height, the lack of rain stunting their growth.
Suni shook his head. “I would not recommend it. It is the only cover for miles. Our enemies will search it, if they haven’t already claimed it for their own shelter.”
“What lies further ahead Connell?” Casius asked hoping for something better than what he could now see.
“More of the same,” Connell said with a shrug. “Rough ground, and thorny trees. Although there is a hardy grass further inland that horses seem to delight in.”
D’Yana looked out over the bleak landscape her face betraying her dislike of the place. She was from Lakarra and more accustomed to lush grasslands and dense forests. “Why would Kesh and Ao’dan fight over such a worthless place?”
Connell laughed. “It may be desolate but it is far from worthless. To the north this land is rich in gold and silver. There thick veins of copper as well, in some places one has to only pick the ore off the ground. Many a man has
left his home to come and find his fortune in this land. Most only find a meager existence but a few have become fabulously wealthy. There are dangers here as well, bands of outlaws that roam the hills seeking the gold mined by others. Brymir may be nestled among three civilized nations but it is a harsh and wild country. Where caution and mistrust are common place.”
“We are not, nor do we appear to be fortune hunters.” Marcos said. “I do not think we have much to fear from outlaws.”
“That would depend on how hungry they are, Marcos.” Connell replied. “Then there are those from Ao’dan and Kesh. Men empowered by their respective kings to seize any wealth taken from this disputed land. They are little better than the outlaws.”
“We must press on,” Suni advised interrupting the conversation.
Connell agreed, “There are roads in this land, but I think it would be best if we avoided them. And any settlements we would encounter do not readily accept strangers.”
“Lead on then,” Marcos said mounting his horse.
The hours passed slowly, the land an unchanging plain of broken rock, dry soil and the occasional tree festooned with eight-inch thorns.
It was late in the afternoon when the horses skidded down a shallow embankment and stepped out onto the bed of a river that had not seen running water for decades.
“We should camp here,” Connell said dismounting. “This is the best place we’ll find before nightfall.”
Casius looked about; there was no wood to be found. The last tree they had seen was a few miles back. “No fire tonight,” He muttered. “Let us hope it doesn’t get much colder.”
“I fear it will,” Connell said. “The weather is growing worse with every passing day.”
True to his word it was cold that evening. They sat huddled within their saddle blankets trying to catch what sleep they could. Only Marcos and Suni seemed unaffected by the chill.
They began moving westward as the sun rose in an overcast sky. A dark smudge appeared on the horizon, rising higher as the hours passed. It grew to become an impressive range of mountains, their shrouds of snow shining brightly in the sunlight. Running from the south to northwest they marched in an unbroken line until the distant peaks blended with the steel gray sky.
“The Raobahn Mountains,” Connell said. “They are the borders of Brymir, An impassable barrier that is broken in only one place. Where the Raobahn meets the Dragon Spine Mountains. There lays the Tro’marg pass, the gateway into Trondhiem and our destination.”
On their fifth day in Brymir Connell turned northward. The land about them grew greener, the soil less rocky. Thick grasses carpeted the earth, punctuated by large stands of trees. Birch, Ash and oak grew in abundance as they neared the mountains. They made camp in the wood, the trees sheltering them from the freezing winds that blew down out of the snow clad heights above.
Two more days pass and a wall of distant peaks rose above the horizon on their left. The Snow-clad Mountains wrapped about them on three sides now. The ground on which they rode rising higher to meet them.
Connell pointed to the northeast. “Those are the Dragon spines, beyond them lay Kesh and Ril’Gambor.” He said while they made camp on a low hillside.
At the mention of Ril’Gambor Casius felt a sudden twinge of regret. It would have fulfilled one of his childhood dreams to ride the verdant lands he had so often read about.
“They have an odd look about them.” D’Yana commented on the rounded appearance of the distant heights.
“These are unlike any mountains you have ever known D’Yana.” Marcos said. “They were ripped up out of the earth’s depths when So’san struck his ill conceived blow upon Sur’kar.
“The closer we come to Tarok nor the more pronounced the damage will become. Time has just begun to weather away the up thrust rock.” Marcos said with a smile. “After all what is a few thousand years to a mountain?”
Casius finished seeing to his mount, he looked over to where Suni sat apart from the others. The warrior had his paralyzed hand lying in his lap. As Casius watched Suni’s fingers slowly closed into a fist and opened again.
“I’ll be damned!” Casius exclaimed rushing over to the seated warrior. “It’s getting better.”
Suni shrugged, tucking his hand into the sash. “There is yet no strength in it.”
“Give it time,” Casius said hoping to encourage the man.
Suni stood, “I do not think time is something we have an abundance of.”
“If anyone can do it, it would be you.” Casius countered.
Suni ducked his head at the compliment. “I have neglected your instructions these last few days. We will resume tomorrow.”
“Wait until your arm is well.” Casius objected.
Suni’s mouth curled into a rare smile. “I will not allow that to give me am advantage over you.”
Casius returned the smile, grateful for Suni’s mood change. “Very well, I’ll go easy on you.”
Two days later they were in the shadow of the mountains. The stone peaks filling the sky around them. They came upon a well-used track. Deep ruts worn into it from the passage of countless wagons. In the distance ahead they could make out the smoke from a small village.
“This route will take us to the pass into Trondhiem,” Connell said. “We should follow it, to go across country now will only slow us down. The ground ahead grows impassable after a few more miles.”
“What of the village?” D’Yana asked. “The last thing we should want is to have witnesses of our passing.”
“We will circle around and rejoin the trail several miles past the town.” Connell offered. “After that I’d doubt we would run into any travelers. A civil war has a way of curtailing all but the hardiest of travelers.”
Connell urged his horse off the track and further into the hills.
They rode for several hours skirting the worst of the foothills before angling back to the northeast. By nightfall they had come to the road once again.
The temperature dropped and a light snow began to fall just as the sunset. Taking shelter in an abandoned farmhouse they spent the night in relative comfort with a cheery fire burning in the hearth.
They were encamped only a few miles from the pass. Connell had suggested waiting until daybreak before going further. With the possible turmoil within the kingdom a night passage may prove to be dangerous.
The sun rose over a landscape bejeweled with frost, the thin tracery of ice quickly melting at the first touch of its golden light.
They broke camp and were on the road winding into the sprawling roots of the mountains. A dense forest of conifers enshrouded the foothills. Their needles whispering as the wind gusted through the heights.
Chapter Six
The road up the mountains was steep and winding, climbing ever higher it wove amid ragged cliffs and slopes of loose stone. The trees grew fewer in number, the last remnants of the forest ended in a line of scraggly trees that resembled ill tended shrubbery.
The pass was a deep cut between two low peaks. They entered the narrow stone fissure and had gone only a short way when Connell had them stop. A wall of rough stone stretched across the opening ahead of them.
Bowmen stood along its top. At least thirty in number, they watched the party with interest. They wore glimmering chain beneath tabards of various colors. Upon their heads pointed helms of plain steel shone in the sunlight.
A narrow gate stood open in the wall; through this five heavily armed guardsmen exited. One of the men stood apart from the others and motioned with his hand for them to approach.
Connell dismounted and led his horse forward. Behind him his companions did likewise. “Keep your hands away from your weapons.” He suggested.
Connell stopped a few paces away from the guards. “When last I passed this way the Tro’marg was an open road.”
The man eyed him critically, “We are at war.”
“Whose side are you on?” Connell asked ignoring the acid laced glare the man gave h
im.
“King Gaelan is the rightful heir.” The man answered, his voice daring Connell to suggest otherwise. “It is his banner that I follow. You will find no followers of Goliad in our number.”
Connell had no idea as to who this Goliad was but he knew he would find out soon enough. “I meant no insult, I merely wished to know who held this pass before I continued on.”
“Now you know,” The man answered with a grin. “But I must turn you back. I am under orders to allow no one entry.”
“You will allow me,” Connell shrugged his cloak aside and opened his shirt exposing the brand on his upper chest.
The scar drew mutters of surprise from all who could see it. The guard before him took a step back his eyes wide in awe.
“I am Connell Malkor,” He said closing his shirt and pulling his cloak back into place. “I would speak with your Lord.”
The guard lowered his head in respect. “I shall lead you to him myself.”
Connell returned the bow with a nod of his head. “You serve your King well guardsman.”
The guard looked past Connell at his companions.
Connell could see the concern on the man’s face. “I will personally vouch for my companions.”
The guard considered Connell’s statement for a moment before responding. “I have my orders Lord Malkor, but they do not cover this situation. If they come as your companions it is not my place to deny them entry.” The guard stepped aside, no longer barring the gate. “I will send a rider ahead announcing your arrival.”
“That will not be necessary.” Connell said stopping the man from issuing the order. “I care little for ceremonies, all we need is for you to lead us to the king.”
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