An Empire in Runes (The Runes of Issalia Book 3)

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

He pulled on one lever while pushing the other. The flying machine banked hard, driving Ashland into her seat again.

  “Stop pedaling,” Benny said. “We need to slow down so I can land this thing.”

  They sailed over the field as the machine slowly lost altitude. Shortly after they had passed it, Benny made another sharp turn. By the time it was facing the field again, the flyer had lost much of its momentum and was less than two stories above the trees. As they glided toward the field, they continued to drop, barely clearing the last row of trees before the glade began.

  The ground grew closer and Ashland cringed, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the sides of her seat. They were still moving too fast. She said a quick prayer to Issal, afraid that she would die when they smashed into the ground. Just before they hit, Benny pushed up on the levers and the flyer rose upward, slowing in the process. Benny eased the levers downward and the flyer dipped toward the ground again, but at a less hectic pace than the previous attempt. The back wheels touched and the flyer bounced into the air, tilting side to side as it glided just a few feet above the grass. Again, the flyer contacted the ground, bouncing and jolting the two riders. The wheels finally settled on the ground and rolled across the field, the flyer jolting and rattling with each bump. However, they had taken too long to land and the trees at the far end of the field were approaching fast. Benny pulled on a lever and the wheels began to squeal at the pressure applied to them. The flyer slowed to a stop just before the tree line.

  Ashland and Benny sat still, not moving nor making a sound besides panting from the near death experience. After a bit, Benny broke the silence.

  “See, landing was no problem.”

  * * *

  The sea of grass stretched for many miles before terminating at the hills on the northern horizon. A glance to Cam’s right revealed the last of a series of hills and canyons that surrounded the eastern perimeter of the upper plateau before it opened to the mouth leading down to the lower plains. Although they had been crossing the plains for a day, it felt to Cam as if they had made little progress. Thankfully, the weather was ideal, not too cold for bare fingers but also not too hot to march in armor. It was certainly far better than the biting cold wind they had encountered in that blasted mountain pass.

  “At least our horses won’t go hungry here.” Tegan noted. “There’s enough grass to feed them for eternity.”

  Cam grunted in reply. Six days of Tegan’s constant snarky comments had worn on him. While she was attractive and he enjoyed watching her duel, he now knew that she wasn’t right for him. He felt thankful that she hadn’t agreed to join him when he had fled the school with Brock. Puri was a much better fit. Cam smiled as he thought of her, hoping to see her soon, hoping that they might spend some time together before The Horde appeared. He tempered his expectations by avoiding thoughts of what might happen beyond the impending battle.

  Something dark loomed ahead, causing Cam to frown in puzzlement. He didn’t remember anything black when he and the others had crossed the plains at the beginning of winter. Riding in silence, he stared at the black mass and tried to make sense of it.

  “A fire,” Tegan said.

  “What?” he asked.

  She pointed ahead. “It looks like there’s been a fire.”

  Squinting, Cam realized that she was right. A fire had destroyed a large patch of grass, leaving the earth blackened. As they drew closer, he noticed that the blackened land ran eastward to the point where the land sloped down, toward the lower plains. Glancing northward, he estimated the burned patch to be roughly a mile in length, the width perhaps half of that.

  He stopped his horse just shy of the bare patch of earth, turning to face his trailing army. Tegan’s horse settled beside Cam’s. Jestin and his horse stopped on the other side of Tegan.

  Cam took a breath and shouted, “We’ll set up camp here, south of the burnt field.” He pointed to the east. “The slope connecting the upper plateau and lower plains is at the eastern edge of this burned field. Let’s keep our camp a distance from that location. It’ll be where we’ll see the worst of the fighting.”

  Budakis nodded, as if approving of Cam’s decision. The Master Paladin turned to face the small army and began to issue orders.

  “Let’s get those wagons unloaded, you slugs,” the Master Paladin shouted. “C’mon. We don’t have all day.”

  Academy students began to crowd around the two wagons that carried their tents and bedding. After five nights of making camp, the process had become routine. However, pitching a tent in this long grass might prove a challenge. Normally, they only had to deal with a dirt floor or perhaps forest undergrowth. On the plains, it would take a fair amount of trampling to get the grass packed so the tent space was usable.

  Rather than dismount, Cam turned his horse and kicked it into a gallop. He was eager to see what the land looked like east of the upper plateau. A minute later, he pulled the reigns and his horse settled. The rumbling hooves of another approaching horse echoed, the beat slowing as Tegan and her horse appeared beside him.

  He gazed out over the seemingly endless plains, the surface of the grass rippling in wind-blown waves hundreds of feet below. A mile-wide slope connected the two plains, terminating to the north and south by steep cliffs that ran for miles. The drop off one of those the cliffs appeared well over one hundred feet, perhaps even more than two hundred.

  The cliff walls to the north eventually rose to join a wall of mountains that bound the north edge of the plains. Below those mountains, Cam could see the dark mass of a lake in the hazy distance.

  Turning his gaze to the south, he looked up at the steep face of the hills overlooking the valley. The cliff edge that split the upper and lower plains ran straight to those hills, blending with them about a mile from his current position. Cam knew that Mondomi lay hidden within a canyon somewhere among those hills. Thoughts of Mondomi led to thoughts of Puri, stoking the anticipation of seeing her again.

  He released a sigh and turned to refocus on his surroundings. Thinking back on what he had learned in Paladin tactics training, Cam knew that this was a highly defensible location. Placing his army at the mouth of the slope between the plains offered advantages in height and mitigated the possibility of a blindside attack. If he could add ranged weapons along the edge of the upper plateau where the cliffs divided it from the lower plains, they could fire volleys at the enemy below without the threat of a counterattack.

  “It’s perfect.” Tegan noted.

  Cam nodded in agreement. It was as good as he could have hoped. However, he also had a good idea of what was coming. They would need every advantage they could get.

  * * *

  Brock spurred his horse into a gallop, the seeded tops of the long grass shoots flowing past his shins. As he neared the cluster of tents, he slowed his horse to a trot.

  “Hold!” a low voice shouted. “State your business.”

  Brock turned toward the voice, recognizing the boy. “It’s me, Ulric.”

  The tall boy’s brow furrowed. “Talenz? What are you doing out here?”

  “Same as you, I suppose,” Brock replied. “There’s an invading army coming this way and I hope to stop them.”

  Ulric grunted in response.

  “Where’s Cam?” Brock asked.

  Ulric turned, pointing northeast, toward the blackened earth that lie beyond the camp. “He and Tegan rode out there to get the lay of the land I suppose.”

  Brock nodded, spotting Cam’s blonde hair atop his horse.

  “Thanks.” He kicked his horse into a trot, circling around the south side of the busy camp.

  He found tents being raised in lines, as if the students had been setting up mi
litary camps their whole lives. The familiar sound of Budakis’ voice rose above the clopping hooves of Brock’s horse. “Tie those stake lines tight, you lazy dogs!”

  Although Brock was surprised to see the man, he couldn’t help but smile. He liked Budakis, despite the man’s brash nature. The Master Paladin’s presence would help to keep everyone in line.

  A movement to the south caught Brock’s attention. He didn’t have to look to know it was Wraith. The dog’s massive black head bobbed above the tall grass as she ran, shadowing Brock and his horse. As long as she didn’t stray too close and spook his horse, he allowed her freedom. Trying to tell her to remain with his army would be a waste of time and would lead to frustration.

  Turning his horse, he angled toward the blackened field, bereft of the long turf that dominated the plains. Someone had set fire to the field. After a moment’s consideration, he decided that it would make maneuvering far easier, especially for those on foot. In addition, trying to swing a weapon while standing in the long grass wouldn’t work well at all. Yes, the cleared area had been intentional and was a good idea.

  He kicked his horse into a gallop as soon as he cleared the long grass, quickly crossing the expanse of burnt field. Moments later, he pulled the reins to slow the animal.

  “Boy, am I glad to see you.” Cam said in greeting.

  Brock smiled in response. “I missed you too, big guy.”

  Tegan chuckled. “If you two want to kiss, don’t stop on my account.”

  Cam’s face clouded and he shot a frown toward Tegan.

  “I thought we might be close behind you,” Brock said. “Shortly after we broke camp this morning, we came across your trail. It was easy to follow the trampled grass across the plains.”

  Cam looked to the southeast, toward Brock’s approaching army of Chaos users. “How did the training go?”

  Brock shrugged. “About as well as I could have hoped.” His head turned, looking southeast as he spoke. “They appear capable, but most have never been in a fight before and none have seen a banshee. Fear is a threat, but it also increases their ability to channel Chaos.” He smiled at Cam as he fished in his saddlebag. “I’ve got a surprise, too.” Brock held his hand up to show an amulet dangling on the leather cord. “We crafted charms that act much like your sword. I’m hoping they will counter the fear created by the banshee screams.”

  Brock tossed the charm to Tegan, who caught it deftly.

  “Put it on. You’ll be happy you have it,” he instructed.

  “I’m not sure if it matches my outfit, but I’ll try it anyway,” she said as she slid it over her head. “But what about Cammy, here?”

  “His sword is all the protection he needs,” Brock replied.

  Noticing Cam staring past him, Brock turned to find Budakis jogging across the blackened field toward them. Seconds later, the man slowed and addressed Cam.

  “Captain, I’m here to report that the camp is in order. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

  Cam nodded. “Very good, Sergeant Budakis.”

  Brock raised an eyebrow. “Captain? Sergeant?”

  Tegan flashed a smile. “Master Budakis insisted that Cam take on the title of Captain if he were to lead our little army.”

  Budakis nodded. “You have to command respect to keep your soldiers in line. Titles and attitude help to keep them aware of who is in charge.”

  “I know I’ve said it before, sir,” Cam began, “but I appreciate your help. I was worried about their attitude toward me, that I might not be able to get them to listen. With you around to keep them in check, it’s been far easier than I could have hoped.”

  “DeSanus, we’ve been through this,” Budakis chided. “Outside the school, you can’t call me sir. It’s Sergeant Budakis and nothing else. Don’t undermine the order we’ve established.”

  Brock nodded, agreeing with the man. Cam was correct that the Master Paladin’s presence created a sense of legitimacy to their initiative. The man demanded respect and the students were already used to giving it. Having Budakis keep them in line while deferring to Cam instantly put him in a position of power and respect within the student’s minds.

  Budakis broke the momentary silence. “I see another force approaching from the south. I don’t suppose they’re with you, Mister Talenz?” He pointed toward Brock. “And what’s with the rune?”

  Brock had forgotten about the Chaos rune on his forehead, embedded within the rune for Order. Weeks had passed since anyone had mentioned it.

  “They’re with me alright,” Brock glanced toward his approaching army. “They are to set up camp adjacent to yours. As for the rune, that’s a much longer story.”

  Budakis grunted. “Alright.” He paused, as if considering something. “I didn’t see weapons or armor among your little army, so they don’t appear to be fighters. I assume they can help our cause in some other way.”

  Brock’s eyes flicked to Cam, who had a small smile on his face. “You haven’t told him yet, Cam?”

  The tall blonde shook his head in response and Brock turned toward Budakis.

  “They’re my secret weapon, sir. If you’re willing to keep an open mind, I’ll explain.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Puri closed her eyes, enjoying the oneness she felt with Redbolt. She could feel the mare’s energy coming through her thighs as they gripped the animal’s mid-section. Her eyes opened, squinting at the wind in her face as the chestnut swiftly sped from the mouth of the canyon and onto the grassy plains. The thunder behind her was a comfort, the full force of Tantarri warriors. One hundred eighty-seven Tantarri rode with her, prepared for war, prepared to die if they must.

  A glance to her side confirmed that her brother, Juran, was coaxing Veilbrand to run faster, to take the lead position. The black stallion was a beautiful animal, bringing much pride to Juran that it had picked him to be its rider. Puri found that her brother leaned on his pride a bit too much and wished he could let go of the past.

  Turning to the other side, Puri was unsurprised to find her father urging his stallion to the lead position. She had made one final attempt to dissuade Turan from joining the Tantarri on the field of battle, but the man had refused to bend. Again, she was not surprised. Turan turned his head, smiling when his eyes met Puri’s. She had to admit that he looked imposing in his black leather battle gear, with his matching jewel-encrusted black leather headband. Turan’s tanned, muscled arms looked as powerful as ever despite the man’s advancing age. If not for his silver-peppered hair and the lines on his face, she would have guessed him to be far younger.

  As they rounded the western end of the steep hills that formed the north canyon wall, the plains opened into a glorious expanse of tall grass. In the distance, Puri saw a dark mass of people near the area they had burned clear. She expected and feared that the blackened field would soon turn red with blood.

  As the distance between her force and the Outlander’s camp decreased, Puri noticed a small mounted group huddled near the slope to the lower plains. It didn’t take long for her to realize that Cam was among them. The shock of blonde hair atop his tall, regal bearing was unmistakable. Incredibly, her heart soared even higher upon spotting him. A few months ago, she had considered riding to be the finest thing within this life. Somehow, the tall, quiet, Outlander had shown her something else. Something more.

  With a nod to her father, she veered her horse to the right and headed toward where Cam waited. Turan followed on his piebald roan, keeping pace with Puri’s horse. A glance backward confirmed that Juran had slowed, preparing to make their camp between the Outlander’s camp and the cliff edge to the east. Turan had been hard and clear when he commanded Juran to ensure that there was no fighting between the
Tantarri and the Empire Outlanders. Puri could see the internal struggle within Juran’s eyes as he fought with the issue, but he agreed carry out Turan’s orders.

  Nearing Cam and the others, Puri slowed her horse to a trot.

  “Puri!” Cam called out as the others turned to look in her direction.

  A thick, muscular man with a bald pate drew his sword, stepping closer in a ready stance.

  “Easy, Master Budakis,” Brock shouted. “They’re friends.”

  The man glanced toward Brock. “Last I heard we were at war with the Tantarri.”

  “That war is not of our doing, Master Paladin,” Turan remarked, pulling his horse to a stop. “The leaders of your Empire chose that route. We merely wish to be left alone.”

  The bald man frowned as he lowered his sword. He kept it unsheathed but took on a more relaxed stance.

  “Greetings, Turan.” Brock said, bowing his head just enough. Puri found herself nodding in approval when Cam mirrored Brock’s bow. She felt proud that her Outlanders were respectful. Puri’s horse settled a few feet from Cameron’s, her eyes locking with his.

  “I’m happy that you are well,” she said to him.

  Cam grinned. “I missed you, too.”

  The red-haired girl on the horse beside Cameron interrupted the exchange.

  “Who’s the Tantarri wench with the body art?”

  Puri’s sword was out in a flash. The red-haired girl drew two short swords in response.

  “Stop!” Cam shouted, louder than Puri had ever heard him. Another spike of pride hit her.

  Brock urged his horse between Puri and the red-haired girl. “We cannot fight amongst ourselves. We must save every sword for The Horde.” He turned toward the other girl. “Tegan, put the blade away and act civil. The Tantarri are our allies, and we will treat them as such.” He spun his horse around, his eyes meeting Puri’s. “Sheath your sword, Puri. Save it for The Horde.”