by Devon Vesper
Silence stretched between them after that, comfortable and comforting because of their bonds. Shyvus’s friendship on one side, and Tavros’s love on the other. Shyvus also had Phalin to his left, which Valis was sure Shyvus appreciated.
That silence stretched until they reached the waist-high rock wall. Valis scanned the area and pulled Rasera to the right to follow the wall around, hoping to find a gate or some other opening. By the time they got around the wall, they emptied into the town square through beautifully crafted stone archways, the gates thrown open to allow anyone passage into the town’s center.
“Why do you suppose they even have gates if a horse can easily jump the wall,” Tavros asked under his breath.
Valis snickered and murmured, “It’s decoration. Now be—”
“If you tell me to be quiet, I swear to the Nine—”
Laughing, Valis shook his head. “No. I was going to tell you to be mindful not to offend the people here. Decorative walls and gates are common in some areas, and these are especially well-made.”
“You have a keen eye, my boy.”
Valis straightened and cast around until he saw an older man standing just outside a large building. “Thank you.”
“What can I help you with? We don’t have the beds for the army you’ve brought us. Nor do we have the food to feed such an army.”
Smiling, Valis rode closer and dismounted so he could be on the man’s level. “We just need directions, a map if possible. We’re looking for the Braywar Estate. We know it’s on the southern border of Tonemor and Ges, but we’re quite lost, and we’ve lost a scouting party.”
The man ran a hand through his close-cropped brown hair and gestured into the building. “I can help with both. Come on inside. You can bring five or six people with you if it makes you feel more comfortable.”
He looked behind Valis and nodded toward the back. “We can spare feed and water for the horses. A meal for you all before you leave. We value hospitality. It wouldn’t do to turn you away hungry.”
Valis brushed the matter aside with a wave of his hand. “No need. We’ll take the feed and water for our horses, but we’ve already eaten not long ago, and we must get back underway as soon as possible.”
“Very well, then. I am Kort, and I’m the resident steward.”
“And you have maps?” Tavros asked.
Kort puffed his chest out and gave a proud grin. “My son is a cartographer apprentice, so he collects maps to study and copy while he’s in his apprenticeship. He’s inside, so he can give you a map, or make you one, I’m sure.”
“Kort, these men and women are Aesriphos,” another man said. Valis looked to the side of the building and a tall man stood there wiping his hands on an ink-stained towel. “If they’re here in this large of a number, they’re going to need maps that are one hundred percent accurate. They’ll need a master’s work.”
The steward’s chest deflated and he nodded. “Marick is my son’s master. He can help you.”
Marick reached out and shook Valis and Tavros’s hands once he made it to them. “Kivan is good at what he does, Kort. But this can be a grand lesson for him.”
Kort sighed and reluctantly nodded. “Agreed. Come. Let’s go inside. Can I offer you any refreshments? Tea, milk, water?”
Valis lifted his hands in surrender. “Apologies, but we really are in a hurry. Could we skip the pleasantries?”
Marick studied Valis for a moment then beckoned him around the side of the building. “Come with me, then. Kort’s son is a chatterbox and will try to delay you.”
Valis chose four men plus his husband to follow him, and they made their way to Marick’s house. After they got inside and settled, Marick motioned to a drafting table. “What do you need?”
“I need to find the Braywar Estate on the southern border of Ges and Tonemor. I can see it in scries, but it’s hard to match our actual direction with a scry.” Valis rolled his shoulders and sat when Marick motioned to a chair on the other side of the drafting table.
The cartographer studied Valis for a moment before nodding. “Do you want a quick and dirty map or a professional one? I have a map that will guide you, and I’ll be able to plot your course on it, and after, point you in the right direction. Or I can just create a map that gets you from this town to the estate.” He smirked. “What is your preference.”
“What’s with the condescending smirk?” Tavros asked.
Marick shrugged. “You’re going after a Qos adherent. I can get you there, but your army won’t stay alive long after you get there.”
“You have such little faith in us?” Shyvus asked. “Or are you a Qos adherent, yourself?”
“Calm, Shy,” Valis said. “He’s not a Qos adherent. There’s a golden spark in him.”
He returned his attention to Marick and gave him a tense smile. “I am Valis Bakor, the youngest Grand Master Aesriphos in Avristin’s history of the position. My husband, Tavros,” he squeezed Tavros’s hand, “is the second youngest. Having earned the position by defeating the old Grand Masters, we are quite capable. Don’t count us dead just yet.”
Marick relaxed a fraction and nodded. “Good to know. He’s just… he torments and terrorizes our town every chance he gets. He either takes our supplies or taxes us blind. Most often, both.”
“Rest assured that will cease once we’ve completed our objective,” Valis said. “What can you tell us about him and his estate? Any information you can give us will help us defeat him and rescue our lost teams.”
Marick shook his head. “I really don’t know much. He’s cruel and spiteful. He’s an indiscriminate murderer. And he lives in a giant house near the border south of here. That’s really all I know.”
“And you can get us a map to his estate?” Valis asked.
The man nodded and scratched at his neat black beard. “I can. I’ve taken deliveries to his place before, so I know the route intimately. It just might be hard for you to follow the map due to how high the snow has built up. There aren’t many landmarks that will stick up out of the snow, so you’ll have to judge based on where the signs point. I can give you orienting notes so you can judge where to go based on signposts.”
“That will be enough.” Valis shifted in the chair and tilted his head. “How did you know we were Aesriphos? We’re not wearing our armor.”
With a smirk, Marick turned to grab some papers out of a drawer system near his desk. “An army comes, and you’re not making demands? Has to be Aesriphos. You’re too polite to be anyone else. Trust me. If you want to not stand out as Aesriphos, you’re going to need to be a lot ruder and a lot more terrifying.”
He laid the papers out on his desk, and Valis recognized them as maps of the area from his map of the continent. Once he had them spread out and the corners held down by small bits of polished metal, he waved Valis over and grabbed a pen. He marked the map as he talked, giving Valis the orientations he would need, as well as exact locations of each signpost.
When he was done, Valis sat back down and studied the map he was given. “This will work well. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Marick talked as he put his pen and ink away and returned the unused scrolls to their drawer. “It’s a two-day journey from here to the Braywar estate unless you’re going at a fast clip, then you can make it in a day. But with the snow as high as it is, you’ll make it in about two, maybe three days.”
“Then I need to scry,” Valis said. “Can I borrow a quiet room for a short while?”
Marick stalked toward the door to his drafting office. “Of course. Follow me.”
Once they were in the small receiving room, Valis sat in one of the comfortable chairs and pulled out his pocket watch. He had a report to make, and before that, he wanted to get a good scry of the Braywar Estate.
Within moments of staring into the golden, reflective surface of the inside of his watch cover, Valis started seeing swirls and clouds. When they parted, Valis had an aerial view of the estate. It co
nsisted of many houses surrounding a larger manse, one bigger than any Valis had ever seen.
The grounds were immaculate. Someone had plowed the snow out or melted it down so that a fountain showed a profusion of icicles. Barren trees stood tall.
But Valis wasn’t there for the view. He traced the scry around in concentric circles until he found the anchor team. Cassavin gave the order to move out, and the attack was underway. Unfortunately, that meant Valis couldn’t warn them. It also meant he had to find the lost team and send them in to back the anchor team up.
Valis groaned as the weight of the situation settled on his shoulders. How could he fix this situation with as few casualties as possible? It didn’t seem likely that he would have any success in the matter other than hurrying with his army to give the teams more support and rescue whoever was left alive after the main battle ended. It looked like the situation would unfold just as his scry had indicated, and Valis hated that he couldn’t make it in time.
With a sigh, Valis went back to the concentric circles and found the other team arguing. Valis looked around them, searching for a reflective surface until he found a piece of armor sticking out of one of their bedrolls.
Valis raised his voice in a commanding tone, “Stop your squabbling and listen.” When they all stopped and turned toward the horse, Valis went on. “This is Grand Master Aesriphos Valis Bakor.”
“We can’t find the team, sir,” one of the scouts said in a clipped, angry tone.
“I know,” Valis said. “It’s okay. I know where they are, and most importantly, I know where you are. Now,” he cleared his throat, “you are going to turn to your left. Do so now.” When the man turned just about three quarter’s of a turn, Valis told him to stop. “You are going to ride in that direction. It will lead you straight to the anchor team. You’re only a few miles away from the Braywar Estate where the anchor team just attacked, so pack up and leave now. I want you to try and get them out of there until we arrive or it will be a bloodbath.”
“At once, Grand Master.” The man bowed, and Valis ended the scry so he could give Thyran his report.
Thyran answered almost immediately. “You have news for me?”
Valis let out a long breath. “We’ll be at the Braywar Estate in approximately two-to-three days. The anchor team will make it there before us, but last time I scried after them, a few days ago, the series of events doesn’t stop. Since they never got my orders, they will attack the estate before we can get to them.”
Thyran nodded and pursed his lips. After a moment of contemplation, he shook his head. “There is nothing to be done about it. Just be careful, my boy.”
“Have the other teams made it home yet?”
Thyran shook his head. “No. For some reason, they can’t phase back to Cadoras. It might have something to do with the shields. Either way, they are riding back. I’ve scried after them, and they were successful, and their return trip seems to be blessedly uneventful.” He grinned. “It seems you are having all the excitement.”
Snorting, Valis waved the thought away. “I’m just hitting more nests, is all.”
“Exactly.” Thyran’s grin turned calculating. “And you are disposing of them rather nicely. I’d ask you to keep it up, but I know your sense of duty and that you’d do that anyway.”
Valis laughed. “Yes.”
“Then get out there and destroy the Braywar nest,” Thyran said with confidence. “I expect a report in ten days or less.”
“Yes, sir.” Valis grimaced. “And Thyran? How is Papa?”
“He is doing well, my boy. But he is worried about you. You should scry for him once your Braywar objective is complete.”
“I will,” Valis said. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Valis.”
With that, Valis ended the scry and headed back out to meet up with his husband and his army. He didn’t know why, but that scrying session left Valis feeling empty and afloat. It wasn’t a good feeling, and he hoped it didn’t mean anything bad. At least it wasn’t precognitive pitting. It was just a feeling of being utterly alone and in a void. Lonely. He felt lonely, and he shouldn’t because all of his friends were here with him, waiting just beyond the door he was about to step through.
“Having second thoughts?” Marick came up behind him and leaned against the wall. “Standing in hallways is a boring pastime, my friend. You should be out there with your underlings.”
“They’re my friends,” Valis said with conviction. “Most of them, anyway.”
“Then what ails you?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll figure it out in time.”
“May I make a suggestion?” Marick looked Valis in the eye, his features softening. “Figure it out now and fix it before you go into battle. You’re too young to die by that bastard’s hand.”
Valis smiled. “I’ll do my best. Thank you for your help. I greatly appreciate your service against him.”
“Just pay me back by getting rid of him. Safe journey, Grand Master.”
“Thank you.” Valis took that as his cue to leave and opened the door. He found Tavros leaning against the side of the building next to the door, and he fell into step as Valis walked out.
“How was the scrying session?”
“Uneventful.” Valis blew out a breath and trudged through the fresh snow toward their horses. “But I got the lost team on their way to the anchor team. So, it was productive, if nothing else. My scries also prove that my previous scries and visions that sent us here were future events. The anchor team just rode in for the attack a few moments ago.”
He relayed the scry and when he was done, Tavros frowned. “Why do you look so sullen?”
Valis muttered to himself for a moment before he shrugged. “I miss Papa and I feel a bit lonely. I’ll be okay.”
“No. No, no, no.” Tavros pressed a chaste kiss to Valis’s lips. “You’re going to scry for him and get that feeling gone before we go anywhere.”
“Tav… we don’t have time.”
Tavros kissed him again. “Make time. Just a few minutes while we all get back on our horses, get the army in their ranks, and get them pointed in the right direction. You can do this.”
His husband was right. And as Valis scried after Kerac back in Avristin, he wondered if it was really that he missed his Papa, or if it was the fact that he missed all Avristin had to offer.
Either way, talking to Kerac helped with that feeling that had taken root in his chest. Now he just had to get this battle over with so he could go after his other father. Darolen wouldn’t last much longer without an apothecary’s care.
It was time to get serious.
Chapter Nineteen
Another blizzard blew through the land. Valis felt bad for making his army trudge through slush and rapidly falling snow. He felt bad, but not enough to stop. The anchor team needed him. He wanted to get there before his visions became reality. And after three days of riding since they departed the town where Valis had gotten his maps, he was getting restless. Valis had hoped they would arrive on the second day, but today was more likely. He already started recognizing landmarks from his vision. Just small things that poked up over the snowbanks.
When they crested the next hill, Valis’s breath caught. It looked so small in the scry. But the buildings were massive. The main manse stood four stories high, and all the guest houses were at least two stories. It made the place look like a close-knit and growing town.
Thankfully they were still far away. He hoped with everything he was that they were far enough that Valis and his army’s presence would go unnoticed.
“Get the army back down the hill,” Valis ordered. “And be quiet about it. Let’s move. We need to get in place before we get noticed.”
“At once, Grand Master,” Shyvus said. He urged his horse around and started barking orders in a hushed, urgent tone. Each line repeated it to those behind them, and almost as a single unit, they all turned around and started cantering back down the hill to a small, s
omewhat protected valley with Shyvus and Phalin at the lead.
Once they arrived, Valis cast a shield about them and pushed invisibility into the sphere so the shield itself would be invisible, and so would those inside the shield. After adding soundproofing and permanence and breaking it off from himself, Valis pulled Tavros aside and kissed him softly before asking, “Would you gather the reliquary guards, the ranking Kalutakeni, and Jintas and his most skilled scouts?”
“Of course,” Tavros said. “What are you going to do?”
“In my previous scries, I wasn’t able to see anything inside the compound. It was all just the tops of the buildings. The only time I was able to see into the buildings was in that one scry where Sovras showed me the vision that sent us here. I want to try and scry again to see if I can see anything more.” Valis groaned and rubbed his face. “I don’t like sending the scouts in blind.”
“Let the scouts deal with that,” Tavros said as he dismounted. “I’ll gather everyone momentarily. Let’s get our tents set up first. I have a feeling we’re going to be here for a while.”
“You think the battle will take more than one day?”
Tavros chewed on his lower lip as his eyes went unfocused. “I don’t know,” he said after a moment of thought. “But I want to be prepared for everything.”
After everyone pitched their tents like automatons, Tavros gathered the leaders. Tension filled the air as those leaders formed a circle around one of the fires.
“Why aren’t we heading in?” one of the reliquary guards demanded. “Our friends are dying, and we’re setting up camp!”
Valis looked him in the face and said with all the gravity he could fit into his voice and posture, “They’re already dead, Branis.” The man went pale and took a step back, whether from the change in Valis’s demeanor or from the knowledge, Valis didn’t know, but he went on. “Pitching tents won’t change that. The only survivors I know about are Cassavin and Nevesar. Don’t you think for one moment that I would leave our people to die. The fact that, according to my scries, they’re holding Cass and Nev hostage and mostly ignoring them, for now, is the only reason we’re not busting down doors trying to find them.”