by D. A. Stone
She pulled away from him and ran a hand through his hair, staring into his eyes. She didn’t answer that question either.
Instead a thin smile crossed her beautiful face, a sad smile, and Desik knew she was leaving. Whatever this was, wherever they were, it was about to end.
“No!” he said with pain. “I’ll not leave you again!” He moved to embrace her once more, but she stopped him with a hand upon his chest.
“Oh, Des! It was I who left you. And the only sadness I left behind in this world was your sadness. Remember me, but do not be sad. Know that I watch over you always and that I love you always. We will be together again.”
She began to walk backwards.
“Why can’t we stay here?” he called out. “I want to stay here with you!”
“There is more you must do, Desik. You are a shield, and your duty is not yet finished.”
Desik glanced down. Again, there was blood on his hands and his sword was once more in his grasp.
“No,” he said to himself.
When he looked up, Paige was gone.
“Paige? Paige?” he called. “Paige!”
***
Desik jerked awake with a hunting knife in his hand, breathing heavily. The pale glow of a crescent moon pierced the canopy of the small copse of trees they had made camp in. Dawn was still a few hours away.
“It was just a dream,” Tenlon spoke through the dark.
“How long was I out?” the warrior asked gruffly, wiping a sleeve across his face before sheathing the knife. Tenlon shrugged.
“Two or three hours. You haven’t slept in over five days. If you don’t get some rest, you’ll be no good to either of us.”
“Saddle the horses,” the warrior ordered, rising to his feet. “We leave in five minutes.”
Tenlon watched him move off to scan the surrounding land for any signs of pursuit.
The young apprentice rose unsteadily and moved towards the two mounts tethered to the branch of an uprooted cedar. His body ached with a thousand sores. Heaving a saddle onto the mare Desik had taken from Fenton in the forest, he secured its buckles. The same was done to the massive dark bay stallion, Darkfire.
Once the horses were ready, Tenlon returned to their camp and knelt next to the heavy leather bag containing the artifact. Reaching inside, he placed his hands upon it and reinforced some of the basic enchantments of preservation.
The spells helped absorb some of the stress put on the artifact from the long journey on horseback, while another concealed any magical trace the object might be giving off. The enchantments Braiden had taught him were very basic, which was just as well. With so few spells in his catalog, he wasn’t much of a mage apprentice. After the mandatory five years of basic studies, his workload at the academy shifted more towards that of a scholarly mage. He wanted to train dragons, not fight. Becoming Magi was never his ambition.
With the spells strengthened, he sat down and waited for Desik, of whom there was no sign in the murky grove. Their bloodcurdling ride through Killian Forest had been nearly a week ago, and it was apparent now that none but they had survived.
The legendary Kreiden Baelik was dead, likely devoured by the nightmarish beasts. Accostas, Desik’s smiling and infinitely friendlier counterpart, was lost in the same woods as well. The food had run out two days ago and they’d recently drunk the last of their water. Tonight was the longest they had stayed in one place since Goridai, and Tenlon was exhausted to his very bones. Desik insisted on not making fires and constantly scanned their back-trail, but it seemed to Tenlon that the wolves and black riders had given up on them, for there was no sign.
Tonight Desik had slept for the first time in days, though it was beginning to appear as if they were avoiding Korando. According to what the champion had told him, they should have reached the coast sometime late yesterday. The irritable Desik looked to be taking a roundabout path to throw off any pursuers. Tenlon was hungry, thirsty, and exhausted. Even Darkfire’s prodigious strength was losing its edge. He was to meet with Darien and Lesandra in four days. If they were late, Tenlon had no idea what was to be done then.
The warrior emerged from the darkness and made his way back towards the horses. Tenlon rose to his feet, swinging the precious bundle to his back. Without a word to each other, Desik helped the weary apprentice into Darkfire’s saddle before mounting his own.
Dawn was still some time away, but its soft light could just barely be seen warming the distant lands to the east. The two riders exchanged glances.
“We’ll reach Ebnan late this afternoon,” Desik said before heeling his mount forward.
The coast! Tenlon’s heart soared.
Hot food and a warm bed?
He could barely hide his glee.
***
The two rode through the morning, stopping only once to give the mounts a brief rest before setting off again. Tenlon was unbearably lost. The only directions he had been given were for a straight route to the coastal city. Desik’s path had them traversing all manner of terrain and if left on his own, Tenlon didn’t think he could find any coast, much less the right one.
Most of the afternoon was spent traveling through a deep forest valley, but they soon emerged into more grassland. Tenlon began to think that perhaps Desik was as lost as he, but then gradually the landscape began to change. The trees thinned and the grass became longer and patchier, separated by stretches of dust and loose soil.
As the afternoon sun waned into evening, Tenlon smelled the saltwater of the Venda Sea for the first time in his life.
They had reached the territory of Korando.
The land flattened out for several miles, spreading wide before them. Tenlon gazed out across the dry earth stitched with huge spots of grass. He could just make out three city clusters in the dying light. The salty smell was wonderful, and it was his first time seeing a city outside of Amoria.
“Which one is Ebnan?” he asked as they rode.
“The largest one, at the center.”
With the prospect of their final destination in sight, Tenlon dug his heels into Darkfire and let the great animal run wild and hard. His hooves answered the command to thunder across the ground, gradually increasing speed like a growing landslide. A wide grin crossed his face. The evening was cool, the air was fresh, and Darkfire seemed to be outrunning his very shadow.
No matter the troubles, riding was one of life’s best medicines. It cleansed Tenlon’s mind of worry—not completely or permanently, of course—just enough to make him forget what ailed him, if only for a moment. Just enough to make him smile.
Desik’s mare appeared on his left, the warrior leaning forward in the saddle, kicking his mount faster and flicking the reins along the horses flank. The soldier’s mare began to pull ahead.
It was a race!
Tenlon laughed. He couldn’t help it. Darkfire caught the scent of competition in the air and charged forward to answer the challenge. Tenlon’s blood rushed as the deep drum of hoofbeats filled his ears. In a few seconds they were half a length in front of the warrior. Then he was a full length ahead. Next two lengths and after that, Darkfire was gone. The stallion chewed up the land as if he were starved for it, and Tenlon felt good. He felt alive.
For the first time in days, even if it was only for a moment, Tenlon was happy.
***
He and Desik closed the distance in an hour. Nearing the city of Ebnan, the warrior halted their ride before reaching the first buildings.
“Put your money pouches deep inside your pants,” he said. “You’ve never seen a city like this before. Do not wander off and do not stare at anyone for too long. I want our arrival to be discreet, so keep quiet, keep moving, and stay close.”
“Will you be staying with me then?” Tenlon asked with more than a pinch of hope. “After I’ve met with Darien and Lesandra?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
The question put Tenlon off balance. “I don’t know…I thought that you might want to mee
t back up with the army.”
The warrior tugged his reins to the right, walking his mare towards the city entrance and away from Tenlon. “The battle was lost when we left,” he said over a shoulder. “Our forces were wiped out.”
Tenlon followed. “You don’t know that.”
“I was in the worst of it, boy. So yeah, I do know that. I saw what they were and I fought under their black sky. The dragons died and our men will follow. If we had left with you an hour later, that forest would’ve kept us all forever.”
“Then I’m glad we left when we did.”
Desik didn’t respond.
“So, what are the plans when we reach the city?” Tenlon changed the topic, leaning forward to run a hand down Darkfire’s neck.
“We’ll put the horses in a quality stable and locate some decent lodgings. Eat and rest. Then I’ll help you find your people. I want to make sure all is well before we make ourselves known.” Then, “You’re sure you know how to find them?”
“Darien and Lesandra Foll,” Tenlon recited. “They will both be at the Broken Shield Inn at noon, four days from today. Darien will have a mug of wine and a mug of milk on his table to let us know all is well. He is bald and fat and knows the answer to the code First Mage Braiden gave me. If we do not find a man matching all of those descriptions, then we are on our own.”
“Wine and milk?” Desik shook his head. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected much more.”
“What do you mean?”
“The plan was shit to begin with and continues to worsen.” He seemed to grow aggravated, heeling his mount towards the city. “I don’t like being expected. It doesn’t sit well with me.”
Tenlon didn’t know how to respond. He was only doing what was ordered of him. Giving Darkfire a light tap, he moved to catch up.
They approached the first buildings of Ebnan and the dusty land beneath them gave way to a hard packed road. Lanterns were already lit, and something of a busy market could be seen a few blocks distant, crowded with people. Tenlon couldn’t be sure if his hunger was playing tricks on his senses, but as the noises of the city rose up to meet them, he could smell the aromas of cooking meats, fried vegetables, and fresh-baked pies. His stomach rumbled. Desik must have smelled the cooking fires, too.
“We’ll find a safe place for your luggage and then get something to eat.”
Tenlon nearly forgot about the precious cargo strapped to his back. Even now it emanated with heat as if he carried the glowing embers of a dying fire. Resting without its weight would be pleasant, he decided. Too many burdensome days in the saddle were taking their toll on him.
Should he share with the warrior what he carried? Desik could obviously be trusted. The man had risked his life to protect him.
Desik might just be the only person he could trust.
“Why haven’t you asked me what I’m carrying?” Tenlon suddenly wondered aloud. “Why you and your men were sent into that forest to protect me?”
Desik leaned forward in the saddle as their mounts walked, resting his arms across the pommel before turning to the apprentice. “Because it was never important.”
“Don’t you think it might be important now?”
The soldier closed his eyes, leaning his head back. “No,” he answered wearily. “But I supposed you’ll want to tell me anyway.”
***
They put the horses in the nicest stable Tenlon had ever seen. Desik paid the man a fortune of two gold pieces to hold the mounts for a month. The stable keeper’s eyes widened at the sum before Desik politely said he’d cut his ears off if anything happened to Darkfire, whom he referred to as “Lemoncake.”
Before exiting, Desik paused near the final stall. There was a blond youngster slinging hay to their feet with a pitchfork from a half-full wheelbarrow. The stable hand’s gaze was pasted to the floor upon their approach, but Tenlon had seen him glancing over one of the stalls as they had entered earlier.
“What’s your name, lad?” Desik asked. The youth’s pitchfork froze, but he didn’t look up, seemingly unsure of himself. “It’s all right, you can speak to us. What’s your name?”
“Kaen,” he said nervously, tossing a look in the owner’s direction down the line of stalls. The older man was not in sight, likely preoccupied with Fenton’s mare and Darkfire.
“I imagine you take good care of the horses here, Kaen.”
“Of course we do. This is the finest stable in the city.”
“Do you live far?”
“I sleep here mostly. Grew up north of Galla, near the Folcroft ruins.”
Desik nodded. Fishing in a small pocket near his hip, he retrieved a gold coin that he flipped to the boy.
The lad’s pitchfork struck the side of his wheelbarrow as he caught it two-handed, eyes wide with shock. It was more money, Tenlon knew, then he would earn in three months.
“Will you remember us when we return?”
“Yes,” he said breathlessly.
“Will you remember our mounts?”
At this he seemed to struggle with a response. “The mare is stunning,” he soon spoke. “But I will never forget the stallion. He’s godlike.”
Desik laughed, something Tenlon had never seen from him before.
“Indeed he is,” the warrior replied, turning to leave. “Be well, young Kaen.”
Moving into the city on foot, Tenlon had put his money pouches deep inside his pants, just as advised. The streets were illuminated by flickering lanterns and extremely crowded, crammed with small market carts, whores showing him their privates for free, and drunken men lying prostrate in puddles of piss and vomit.
“Busy night,” Desik hissed as they made their way through the crowd.
Tenlon was about to ask what was wrong before realizing the problem. Desik was mostly covered in dried blood and makeshift bandages. Wearing no cloak and heavily armed, the warrior harvested more than a fair share of sideways glances. But then, everyone seemed to be armed.
Still, such unwanted attention did not seem to please him.
Tenlon idly wondered if news of Goridai had reached the coastal cities. It must have. News traveled fast and bad news even faster.
They passed a scrawny man standing atop a barrel, shirtless and shouting. He lashed his own back with a thin leather whip for all to see.
“They are coming for us, for you!” he cried, snapping the leather against his torn flesh. “They take over your minds with poison. They feed off of your fear. They live off your death. Your sons will be put to the sword and your daughters will wish their fate were such! The fortunate ones who stand in their way will be fed to foul beasts or turned into beasts themselves. Nothing can stop them, not even Amoria! The Volrathi will consume everything in their path!”
Tenlon found himself staring at the man before the warrior pulled him away. His screams soon blended into the rest of the city sounds.
Desik quickly found a vendor selling heavy wool cloaks, tunics, and leather jerkins. Three silver pieces later he walked away in an ankle-length jacket of worn dark leather with a high collar.
With his weapons and ragged appearance concealed for the most part, he was in altogether better spirits.
They continued to walk and the adrenaline that had been keeping Tenlon alive the last few days was quickly wearing off. His exhaustion had caught up to him at the stables and he could barely keep his eyes open as they moved through the crowd. He struggled to stay in step with the striding warrior but the Amorian moved so quickly.
Tenlon clumsily bumped into a large man reeking of the tavern and trouble, stopping him dead. The mass of people continued to move around them and Tenlon cast a quick look about for Desik, but his companion was nowhere in sight.
The apprentice’s eyes slowly climbed the towering heights of the stranger, all the way to his shoulders and gray bearded face, and knew he was in trouble. The brute was larger than the champion, bigger than the king even.
“You scuffed my new boots, friend.” The man�
��s voice poured down to him on an invisible wave of wine.
He took a step closer, waiting for a response.
Tenlon looked at the stranger’s feet and saw perhaps the oldest, ugliest pair of riding boots he’d ever laid eyes on. He wasn’t even sure if they were a matching pair.
“I’m sorry,” Tenlon told him, having nothing more to offer. He was suddenly very aware of the bag he carried and the artifact within. This was bad.
“Sorry?” the man barked as spittle flew across his beard. “Sorry? Sorry won’t shine my boots, little girl!”
A strong arm shoved Tenlon back a step, but it wasn’t the drunkards.
Desik was fast. Bringing a fist against the side of his head, the Amorian hammered the butt-end of a dagger into the stranger’s temple in a savage blow. The strike was delivered with so much force it made Tenlon wince just watching.
When the apprentice looked next, the mountainous stranger was gone, transformed to a form lying still at his feet.
The warrior gripped his arm and hauled him through the crowd. In seconds they were safely away from the scene, threading through the people before finding a less crowded path behind the vendor carts.
Tenlon was stunned. Desik’s strike against the man was like an angry burst of lightning, arriving in the blink of an eye and disappearing even faster, leaving behind only a momentary flash of what had occurred. Tenlon had seen violent horse kicks less forceful than what the Amorian had just doled out, kicks that had left men bedridden for days.
Tenlon shivered. Desik was a frightening man.
They walked for five more blocks, taking quick turns and alleyways that led to intersecting streets. Always they kept to the shadows, and Tenlon realized the warrior was still shaking off any would-be pursuers. The apprentice kept any comments he may have had to himself.
Finally he could feel Desik slow his pace, seeming to relax a bit. Turning down another side street, they approached a three-story inn painted a gaudy red. Similarly painted shutters hung from the windows, bent and crooked from neglect. The boisterous sounds of a tavern seeped from its open door and windows, along with the welcoming glow of candles and fireplaces from within. And Tenlon could smell meat. Roasting, seasoned, delicious meat.