A light drizzle fell from the dark clouds that concealed the sun, though dawn was a few hours past now. They made for the stables and cursed again. Asher’s horse was gone and there was no way of telling which way he left with so many tracks pressed into the muddy road. The main road from Whistle Town headed east, over the banks of the Unmar and continued on until it met the Selk Road. From there, it was another day’s ride to Velia, though the ranger could go north or south from the road. It was also possible that Asher was following the unbeaten path along the Unmar, heading upstream and into the heart of The Evermoore. It was highly unlikely that the ranger would head south of the Unmar however, that would take him too close to West Fellion, a place Asher would surely avoid at all costs.
“Shit!” Nathaniel cried. He strode from the stables in a desperate search for any trace of the old assassin.
The streets were already filling up as the town came to life. Children ran past in fits of laughter, paying no attention to the bad weather or horse and carts that moved through the streets. Nathaniel ignored the occasional stares, curious to see two Graycoats, and in apparent distress at that.
“He couldn’t have gotten far.” Elaith turned this way and that in hopes of glimpsing his green cloak.
“He could be anywhere by now. He was trained to be a ghost, remember? He could be halfway to Lirian in The Evermoore, or even just sat in another tavern across town.” Nathaniel sighed, defeated. The whole mission had gone from bad to worse in a single night. “Where are you going?” he asked Elaith, who was walking away from the stables.
“I’m hungry!” Elaith entered the bakery next door.
Nathaniel opened his mouth, but failed to find the insult to match his annoyance. “This is why I work alone…” he muttered to himself.
The mention of food brought his hunger to the surface, and the smell coming from the bakery was hard to ignore.
A minute later Elaith returned with a triumphant smile and a bag of delicious smelling pastries. “He headed east, out of town.” The young Graycoat tossed the bag at Nathaniel.
“And you know this, how?” Nathaniel quickly removed the pastry and devoured in two easy bites.
“By asking for directions…” Elaith jumped onto her mount, with no lack of superiority displayed across her face. “If we ride out now, we might catch him at the crossing. I’d bet my wage he’s heading for another town, Palios or Galosha perhaps. He would travel via the Selk road for either.”
Nathaniel was impressed, though he tried to hide it, still annoyed with the girl for letting Asher escape in the first place. He mounted his own steed, a large black horse from Calmardra, in the Arid Lands in the south of Illian. The Calmardras’ bred the fastest horses in all of Illian, and West Fellion paid for a constant supply for its knights.
“We’d have to ride hard if we’re to catch him at the crossing.” Nathaniel adjusted the bow and quiver on his back, as the horses trotted out of the stables.
“Is there any other way for a Graycoat to ride?” Elaith asked with a wicked smile.
“Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.” Nathaniel spurred his horse into a trot that quickly became a gallop.
His cry warned the people to move aside, as well as to motivate the horse. After a few angry looks and curses from the townsfolk, the Graycoats departed Whistle Town with unmatchable speed.
The sun was beginning to set by the time the sound of the Unmar could be heard across the plains. Nathaniel and Elaith had ridden all day, proving their horses’ legendary speed and stamina to be true. After passing through a small ravine, the land began to level out again, with great fields of green and yellow turning orange in the sunset. Velia was still too far from sight, however.
Before reaching the bridge, the Graycoats rode past a small caravan of merchants, their wagons overfilled with goods to sell in Whistle Town. Everything from pots and pans to a variety of vegetables and colourful clothing poked out from under the white tarp that strained to contain it all.
Nathaniel pricked his ears at the hushed conversation between the two men sat at the front of the cart, in the lead wagon. “He looked to be a dangerous sort…” one remarked.
The Graycoat dared to hope and dug his heels into the horse’s flank, pushing for one last burst of energy. The great horse managed a modest trot, putting the dust of the caravan behind him. Barden Bridge stood strong in the fast, flowing river, with its grey stone arching in three places across the Unmar. Small pyres lined the edges of the bridge and had yet to be lit in the dying light.
The details of the old bridge were overshadowed by the presence of a small troop of Velian soldiers, notable by their quilted red hauberks with chainmail sleeves and long spears. The right breast of every hauberk was adorned with a dark blue wolf’s head, howling into the air.
Nathaniel took note of the horses and tents set up on the other side of the river. These guards had clearly been ordered to patrol the bridge, but only on the western side. They were only concerned with people heading east, towards Velia, and Nathaniel couldn’t fathom why - he had never seen the king’s soldiers on Barden Bridge before.
“Nathaniel…” Elaith had spotted Asher too.
The old ranger stood next to his horse in what looked to be a heated conversation with the soldiers.
“Do as I do, and no sudden movements. If you draw your sword prematurely, he may react instinctively and you’ll lose an arm. This can work in our favour, and if done right, without bloodshed.” Nathaniel slid from his horse and walked up, behind Asher.
“I need to cross this bridge...” The ranger’s voice was rough.
“So you’ve said, but no pass or seal of approval means you don’t step one foot on this bridge,” the bald sergeant replied, hiding little of his contempt for the man before him.
“You just let that caravan through.” Asher sounded aggravated and Nathaniel wondered how long he had been standing here.
“They were heading to Whistle Town. I don’t give two shits what goes on there! My concern is why you wanna’ go to Velia.” Four more soldiers had walked over to bolster the bald one.
“The king wishes to see me.”
Asher’s reply stumped Nathaniel. How could the ranger possibly know that? And why would he go willingly?
“And I wish my old lady’s tits were bigger, but wishes aren’t gonna’ get you over this ‘ere bridge!” That drew a chorus of laughter from the other soldiers.
“I’m crossing this bridge before dusk,” Asher’s hand rested on the pommel of his broadsword, “one way or another, boys…”
The soldiers’ faces dropped at the obvious threat. As one, they all reached for their swords and adjusted their spears.
Nathaniel pushed passed the ranger to stand between him and the soldiers. “This man is in our custody.” All eyes fell on Nathaniel. “We are to escort him to Velia with all haste, at the king’s behest.”
The soldiers looked from one another, dumbfounded, while the bald sergeant kept his gaze fixed on Nathaniel. Asher made no move against them, while the sergeant scrutinized the odd pair.
“What’s this got to do with Graycoats?” the bald man spat.
“He is our… prisoner. We are to-”
“He doesn’t look like a prisoner!” one of the other guards stated.
“Your prisoner has been talking at me for some time, Graycoat. Yet you only appear now.” The sergeant looked Asher up and down. “And your prisoner is armed to the teeth it seems.” The sergeant flashed a smug grin, devoid of many teeth.
Nathaniel hesitated with his answer, knowing a fight wouldn’t end well for the soldiers, and would ultimately pit him and Elaith against Asher.
“This is all you need to know, Sergeant.” Nathaniel retrieved the rolled up parchment from inside his coat and thrust into the soldier’s chest.
The sergeant unravelled the scroll and scrunched up his face, as he attempted to read the elegant calligraphy.
Nathaniel realised that there was a chance the sergean
t couldn’t read. “If you observe the seal at the bottom of the scroll, you’ll recognise the mark of Lord Horvarth of West Fellion. The letter clearly states that we are on an errand for the king, your king.”
The sergeant handed the scroll back and begrudgingly stepped aside, sweeping his men with an outstretched arm. “On your way.” The other soldiers continued their excellent impressions of being confused.
The three unusual companions mounted their horses and crossed the bridge unfettered. Nathaniel glanced from Elaith to Asher, unsure what to say with the ranger’s cooperation. The sound of the river and the horses’ hooves on stone was the only noise to be heard for some time. They continued over the rise in silence, the Unmar behind them, glistening in the sunset.
Nathaniel commanded his horse to trot ahead and cut off Asher’s own steed. The ranger stopped without a fuss and gave the Graycoat a hard look and an unreadable expression. Nathaniel felt an uneasy feeling creep into his stomach and knew it was fear. It had been a long time since the primal emotion had dominated his emotions. The Graycoat tried to remind himself of all the monsters and murderous men he had faced and cut down. This was just another man. A man. There were no claws or powerful jaws filled with razor sharp teeth coming at him. In fact the man before him was older and no doubt slower, feeling the weight of his lifetime in service to the Arakesh.
“I cannot present you to the king with all those weapons.” Nathaniel gripped the hilt of his sword, but kept it sheathed.
“Then it’s a good thing you’re not the one to present me to the king. I believe that honour falls to Darius Devale, does it not?” Asher raised a cocky eyebrow.
Nathaniel guarded his expression, whereas Elaith appeared in complete shock. The Graycoat adjusted his seating and lifted his head, trying to remain composed and in control. “How do you know that?” He kept his voice even.
“I knew you were coming for me before you did…” Asher waited expectantly for an introduction that Nathaniel wasn’t inclined to give. “Master Bail’s spies were about as subtle as a hydra in heat,” he continued, “to say nothing of his shoddy locks.”
Nathaniel was building a profile of the ranger with every new detail. It was clear that Asher had followed his own tail back to the sector house, and not only broke in, but read the letter from West Fellion, and left again without so much as a trace. It was another reminder that the aging man before him was a highly trained assassin, and not just some ranger of the wilds.
“So you’re willingly going to present yourself to the king?” Elaith came up beside Asher on her horse.
Nathaniel rolled his eyes at the danger the young girl put herself in.
“I live from job to job…”
“…Elaith, Elaith Nevandar,” she eagerly replied.
Nathaniel visibly sagged in his saddle, unbelieving of his ward.
“Elaith.” Asher smiled pleasantly. “ I live from job to job, and a king’s job sounds rewarding.” The ranger turned back to Nathaniel, apparently happy to wait for the Graycoat.
“Well...” Nathaniel looked away uncomfortably. This was not going the way he expected. “It seems we are both going the same way, and you won’t get within five hundred yards of King Rengar without an escort, prisoner or not. Perhaps you should allow us to hand you over to Darius Devale and he can make the proper introductions?”
Asher looked to the horizon for a moment. “Why not. We’d be doing each other a favour then.” The ranger tapped his heels against the horse to get it moving again. “Velia is three days’ ride from here, maybe two if there aren’t too many more of those checkpoints.” He flicked his head back to the direction of Barden Bridge.
Nathaniel moved his horse out of the way, eyeing the ranger with new intrigue. He had expected a violent man, devoid of manners or rationale, whose only impulse was to kill.
“Are the checkpoints unusual?” Elaith asked.
“You are new.” Asher was already trotting off into the distance.
The Graycoats brought their horses up behind the ranger’s. “You should know this already.” Nathaniel allowed some of his previous annoyance with the girl to be heard in his tone.
“Geography was boring, almost as boring as Master Golth’s monotonous-”
“Show respect; remember you’re still trying to earn that coat.” Nathaniel took a moment to allow the irritation to drain away, recalling his role of mentor. “King Rengar rules the region of Alborn from his throne in Velia. It’s the largest city in Alborn and home to Direport, the largest harbour in Illian. There is relative peace between the regions right now, or at least I thought there was. I haven’t seen checkpoints in these parts for years.”
“Do you think it has anything to with the king wanting to see Asher?” Elaith lowered her voice.
“I can’t imagine they’re connected.”
“And I would say the girl has more insight than you!” Asher shouted over his shoulder.
Nathaniel bit back his retort. “You think highly of yourself, ranger!” Asher had no reply. “We should think about making camp, the sun is setting.” Nathaniel changed the subject, seeing the stars appear on the far horizon.
“There’s at least another hour, yet.” Asher pressed on.
“We can’t all see in the dark, remember?” The Graycoat added defiantly. Despite only seeing the back of his head, Nathaniel was sure the ranger was smiling.
Chapter Five
The Masters of Lies
The waves slammed into the ship with no rhythm at all, as the storm churned the surface of The Adean. Even on the outskirts of the furious clouds, the sea was thrown into fits and the wind whipped into a frenzy. Reyna’s alchemy was constantly interrupted by the rogue waves determined to capsize and deliver them to the depths. The young elf did everything she could to steady herself, while her arms dashed out across the table to catch rolling vials and herbal ingredients that slid from left to right.
“Argh!” A bottle of sap oil came loose from its rack and tumbled off the edge of the table.
There was no sound of glass shattering on the floor, but instead the blue vial rose through the air. “You need to work on your magical reflexes.” Faylen had her teaching voice on, as her hand guided the floating vial of oil back into the rack.
“It’s this constant motion!” Reyna replied. “Elves were made for land, not the sea. Give me fields and forests or even mountains over this...” She covered her mouth feeling the nausea rising in her gut. “Why couldn’t we use a portal?”
“To cross The Adean in a single step takes more magic than even our kind possess. Besides, we don’t want the humans to know we have knowledge of such magic. Have you taken any more Seabreath?” Faylen seemed to almost glide to the table, where she deftly put the ingredients together, before adding the sap oil and placing it inside the flask on the tripod. The liquid bubbled as the candle beneath heated the various parts into a drinkable potion.
Reyna tried to distract herself by sprinkling Redandon herbs into the marble mortar and grinding them with the pestle. “I’m trying to make enough for the three of us, but everything is taking twice as long with this ridiculous weather!”
The princess accepted the vial from Faylen and downed the Seabreath in one. The warm liquid began to take effect almost immediately, relieving Reyna of her sea sickness and leaving her with a tingling sensation at the back of her throat.
Faylen demonstrated her centuries of magical experience and levitated the ingredients and equipment across the table with ease. Everything came together perfectly until the flask was filled with enough Seabreath for two days’ worth of consumption. After the potion had cooled, the flask floated into the air and the dark blue liquid was poured into multiple empty vials, until finally each was fitted with a small cork. Faylen took two and placed them within her long purple robe, as all the moving parts came to settle once more on the table.
“I’ll take one for Mörygan as well.” Faylen turned for the door, heading back to the ladder that connected to
the top deck.
“How is he faring?” Reyna felt she could actually stand up now. She gathered the alchemy equipment and quickly packed it all away into the chest on the floor.
“He has spent many a year sailing on the Crystal Sea, long before either of us was born; he will be fine. You on the other hand still have much to learn, you should continue to practise magic. You favour the sword and bow over anything else, but magic is the real strength of our people, always remember that. Among other things, it is our greatest advantage over the humans, and will serve you better than any piece of steel.”
Faylen’s dark eyes appeared lifeless in the shadow of the candle light. Of course, Reyna knew her guardian’s eyes to be full of life and beauty. Faylen had been with her since she was born, tending to her every need as well as her education and training, while Reyna’s father, the lord of elves, made plans for the future of their entire race. Faylen was her mother and father.
Reyna looked to the white owl, sitting on his perch in the corner of the room, and tried to push away thoughts of her real mother. “Ölli’s wings will get cramped if we stay on this boat much longer.” Reyna wanted to change the subject from talks of their inevitable plan.
“You are still uncomfortable with your father’s strategy.” Faylen wasn’t asking.
Reyna had come to love and hate that her guardian could always read her like a book. “I’m uncomfortable moving against a people I’ve never even met. Humans are just stories from an old book to me.”
Faylen walked over to Ölli’s perch and stroked the owl’s wing. “I too have never seen Illian’s shores,” the elf took on a serious tone, “but there are many who still remember their barbarism and greed, their lust for dominance and power over all life. Unlike your mother and father, my parents didn’t witness the Dark War, but they did witness the war man waged against the dragons. They drove the oldest and noblest of creatures to the brink of extinction for naught but wealth.”
Rise of the Ranger (Echoes of Fate: Book 1) Page 6