Beyond the Edge of Dawn

by Christian Warren Freed

  “A hard life,” Kavan nodded. “I think all of us were raised similarly. Not as oppressive as the north, the jungles near the Bay of Cuerlon bear a killing humidity.” He paused to grin in fond memory. “Pirneon pushed me hard and is responsible for the man you see standing before you.”

  She shared his easy smile. “This is the first time I’ve been around so many of our kind in years. I wonder if it was like this after the Fall.”

  “Perhaps.”

  They left the conversation at that and went to find Pirneon. It was no surprise to find him sipping his tea quietly.

  The next day found them far from the way station. Each was lost in various thoughts. Pirneon dwelt on the possible connection between the taint of the bond and the sudden reemergence of Gessun Thune. He knew there had to be more than just what was on the surface. The lore of the gods was a fascinating subject. If evil ever did return, it would be through the remains of the dark gods. How would Aphere hold up to such twisted mutations? He decided that it would be his sword ending her if it came down that.

  Kavan tried to push aside thoughts of the werebeasts for now. Aradain was still several days away, and he made more pressing issues to deal with. Aphere dominated his thoughts. There was a subtle lust deep inside. She intrigued him.

  Aphere, oblivious to his rising desire, thought back to Kistan’s teachings. His training had been instrumental in controlling her newfound powers. If she concentrated hard enough, she could actually make small objects move with her mind.

  Barum the squire looked to the coming day when he would finally be named a knight of Gaimos, one of the new generation of Vengeance Knights. His excitement was curtailed only by the scorching heat of the sun and thoughts of how lovely Aphere looked each time he opened his eyes.

  Sand eventually gave way to sparse clumps of dried grass. Soon, the ground was littered with grass and rough stone. The landscape changed from tan to blanched green. The sun burned less hotly. They had finally come to the edge of the Jebel Desert. Pirneon’s spirits improved almost immediately, though he was left with the desire for a glass of tea.

  FOURTEEN

  Groskus

  Groskus was a typical border town. Filled with petty villains and thieves hiding from authority, the town thrived on lawlessness. Nestled in a narrow valley three leagues west of the Jebel Desert, Groskus went largely unnoticed. Massive boulders much larger than many homes dotted the open plain leading up to the hidden town. The stores and shops were obsidian to match their surroundings. People in this part of the world were a superstitious lot, tending to believe there were tormented souls trapped in the rocks. Most of Groskus was built underground and deep into the canyon walls. Those few roofs that were exposed were covered in dried thatch.

  Some called Groskus the mouth of the underworld. At night, smoke poured up from the ground to mix with the eerie glow of fires. The town took on an air of nightmares unseen anywhere else in Malweir. Travelers warned each other to stay clear, for surely nothing but doom awaited any foolish enough to stop. This worked well for the residents, for they had established their town with specific purpose. It was the first and last stop for the rich merchant caravans moving across the desert.

  Twenty leagues west of Groskus ran the Fench River, a tributary of the greater Thorn River flowing south from the Northern Seas. More than a mile across at its widest, the river cut diagonally down after following the lower part of the Kergland Spine. A handful of enterprising men constructed a ferry to make crossing easier and charged an exorbitant price. It helped that the ferry was the only manmade construction for almost one hundred leagues.

  The western shore of the river led up to the slopes of the Spine. Rolling hills almost immediately gave way to jagged mountains. The Kergland Spine was one of the greatest ranges in Malweir and more intimidating than most believed. Hundreds of lives had been lost in the dark canyons. Folks said a tribe of Trolls lived among the peaks and Goblins in the caves below. Hunters reported having seen massive pits filled with bones.

  The one-eyed guard to the southern entrance of Groskus gripped his spear haft and watched as the Gaimosians rode into town. He recognized the dark haired one and snarled. Reaching up, he touched his empty eye socket and remembered the day the dark haired man had taken it.

  “That one is watching us too closely,” Aphere said. Her hand was already moving towards the small handheld crossbow concealed under her riding cloak.

  Kavan looked up and scoffed. “I shouldn’t worry about him. He learned his lesson the last time I rode through. Thieves are generally cowards.”

  They kept riding down into the narrow crevasse. The further they went, the more the walls above them curled in, giving a claustrophobic atmosphere. Hundreds of arrow slits and murder holes lined the jagged walls. Pirneon casually wondered how many men they actually had to defend the town in the event of an attack. The lay of the land left but one vulnerable point. Any assaulting force would have no choice but to funnel down the main avenue, through the gauntlet. It would be a slaughter.

  A network of tunnels honeycombed the ground. The people of Groskus could flee long before the first catapult round was in the air. Enough weapons and supplies to last months were stored away in underground caches. The town was as much a fortress as it was a den of thieves — the perfect sort of place for renegade Gaimosians to conduct business.

  “Keep your guard up,” Kavan offered halfway down the path. “Groskus is one of the most dangerous towns in this region. There’s not much good being done around here.”

  “What are those huge tents on the surface for?” Pirneon asked. He deferred to Kavan’s experience, knowing the younger knight was the only one of the four to have been here before.

  “Stables and such for merchant caravans. They’re not allowed down in the town, nor would any sane merchant bring one down of his own accord.”

  Pirneon frowned. “How do they make money, then?”

  “They let the exchange down here take control. There’s no room for wagons, so the caravan masters don’t put up much of an argument about it.”

  “That’s convenient,” Aphere remarked. “While most of the guards are topside, the merchants below are easy pickings.”

  Kavan agreed. “True enough, but we shouldn’t be in any trouble. Only a fool would think to take on a handful of Gaimosians.”

  She hoped he was right.

  The proprietor of the Hanging Man was fat by any standard. His flesh held a sallow look, and it had been too long since he’d last walked under the sun. Greasy, unkempt hair was slickened to his skull while pudgy fingers constantly worked and reworked the knots on the string he carried with him. Despite all of his faults, Elic was one of the few honest folk in Groskus. He was also one of the few not afraid to stare back at a Vengeance Knight.

  “Your journey was…ah, shorter than I expected,” Elic told Kavan in a nasal voice. “I trust you found what you were looking for?”

  Kavan set his sheathed sword on the bar top. “I did. I trust you’ve got room enough for me and my companions?”

  “I’ll have to check, but it shouldn’t be an issue.”

  “Do that. We’re tired from the road.” Kavan eyed him hard, probing for lies or hidden truths.

  Elic waddled away to check the ledgers. He already knew exactly how many vacant rooms he had and where most of his customers were at this very moment. Kavan’s presence filled him with a deep sense of dread that left him doubting whether it was in his best interests to house the knight or not. Calmed, he returned and faked a smile.

  “Yes. Yes. I have a few rooms still available,” he told them. “How long will you be staying?”

  “Long enough,” was all Kavan said. He had no intention of telling their plans. That kind of information was dangerous in the wrong hands.

  Elic blanched. “How many rooms?”

  “Two.”

  “Right this way.”

  Aphere took a room to herself despite arguing that she needed no special treatment. Th
at left the three men in one of the larger rooms across the hall. Barum took a spot on the floor, arguing that he wasn’t a knight yet. Pirneon bickered and cursed but finally relented. His old body needed the straw-filled mattress more than he wanted to admit. Sleeping arrangements hashed out, they washed and redressed. It was nigh time for supper when they met in the hallway. Kavan caught the way Aphere’s hazel eyes almost glared at them.

  Pushing his empty tray away, Pirneon wiped the corners of his mouth and looked at Kavan. “Where to from here?”

  “Cross the river at the ferry. It’s another five leagues up into the Spine. We shouldn’t have any problems with the passes this time of year. Once we’re through, we can ride across Barduk and into Aradain. I figure it’s about a two month journey.”

  “That will put us there around harvest time,” Aphere said. “Wouldn’t the king have had his hunt by then?”

  “Several of them, from what I hear. There are tales that Eglios has organized a hunt on the full moon of each month since their troubles began. Either he’s a fool or he wants to be sure to rid his kingdom of those terrors for good,” Kavan said.

  Pirneon added, “It is possible that Eglios may be responsible for the werebeasts or at least have a hand in their uses.”

  “True, but that wouldn’t explain why he’s organized a series of hunts to eliminate the problem,” Kavan absently tapped a finger against his temple. “I think there is something more sinister at play in Aradain.”

  “Such is the way of the world,” Pirneon said. “We need to be cautious in our approach. If Eglios is the cause, he must not know our true purpose.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Has anyone been to Aradain before?” he asked.

  Aphere had. “Once, when I was younger. The capital is surrounded on three sides by a great bog. Rantis, I believe the city is called.”

  “Good,” Pirneon said and waved off a drifting cloud of smoke as it lazily went across the mostly empty common room. “We resupply here for the long journey and make our way to Aradain via Kavan’s route.”

  “It’s a four day ride to the mountains, and the ferrymen will expect a high toll for using their crossing,” Kavan added.

  “I can take care of that,” Aphere offered. She’d made enough in the desert to last a dozen lifetimes.

  She ignored Pirneon’s wince. Even Kavan struggled to remain straight-faced. The former Knight Marshal’s last job had netted only one gold and five silver pieces. Not exactly the king’s ransom Aphere had earned working on the opposite side. They spent the next hour debating plans and tactics. Kavan warned them not to speak too loudly, else they’d draw unwanted attention beyond that from simply being Gaimosian. Too many greedy eyes and ears were fixed upon them already. Talk began to circulate in whispers. Kavan thought he spied the one-eyed man lurking just behind a corner but couldn’t be certain without creating a scene.

  “We’re about to have company,” he said quietly and finished his mug of weak ale.

  Each scanned the room without moving their heads. The atmosphere of the common room had changed over the course of their conversation. Most patrons had their hands perilously close to their swords. Pirneon, ever one to take control of a situation, rose swiftly, startling most.

  Caught, the patrons attempted to play it off, but it was too late. The other Gaimosians joined Pirneon and were careful to display the full force of their weaponry. Without a word, the knights filed out of the common room. Kavan, the last in line, snatched Aphere’s mug and drained the last of her ale. He threw the empty mug down, shot a daring grin at any foolish enough to follow, and was out the door.

  Barum stood hidden in the shadows just outside the tavern. The tip of his sword rested lightly in the muddied red clay of Groskus. He didn’t have to wait long before Kavan’s hunch paid off. Ten armsmen strode through the center lane of Groskus with swords barred and ready for use. They leered and gawked at the three knights waiting for them. Not one thought of the fourth they couldn’t see. A burly man with large muscles and a shaved head stepped forward, assuming responsibility of what was to come.

  “You’ve got brass balls coming in here like this,” he bellowed in a deep voice. “’Specially you, dark hair. Think ye could take me brother’s eye and not have ta pay it back?”

  Kavan smiled. “I took it easy on him. You won’t get the same luxury.”

  Anger flashed across the big man’s face. “I see three o’ you and ten o’ us. We’ll be enjoying this. But you, you we’ll bleed last. Feed ya to the wild dogs in bitty pieces.”

  The armsmen laughed. Aphere yawned at their bravado. She’d heard more than she needed and decided Kavan had let it go on long enough. She raised her crossbow and fired in one fluid motion. The quarrel struck the big man in the forehead, pitching his corpse backwards. He was dead before he hit the ground. The others milled in shock, debating what to do. It was already too late. Even if they wanted to flee, the Gaimosians weren’t going to let that happen.

  Swords clashed, and a dark river of red blood soon flowed across the clay. A severed hand dropped. A head rolled away. Men screamed. Bodies collided and hit the ground. The survivors turned to flee only to run into Barum’s blade. Three quick slashes, and the last two dropped dead.

  “They had to have known what we are,” Aphere said as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

  “They knew,” Kavan said. His hands were stained red. He looked sharply to Pirneon. “This won’t be the last time. You can bet they had others watching in the shadows. More will come later tonight.”

  Pirneon cursed. “Damnation. Is there another place closer to the ferry where we can purchase supplies?”

  “One or two small hamlets, though I doubt they have the capacity to sustain us for the long trip to Aradain,” Kavan said after a little thought.

  “It doesn’t seem like we have much choice.”

  “What about the bodies?” Aphere asked.

  “Leave them,” Pirneon ordered. “It will serve as warning to the others. Perhaps seeing so many of their friends slain will give them pause.”

  They went back to their rooms in the leisurely manner that suggested confidence and packed. Once done, Kavan excused himself under the pretense of having business to conduct. Pirneon watched him go but said nothing. He was his own man and free to make his own choices. Besides, he knew where Kavan was headed.

  Once downstairs, Kavan headed straight for the check-in counter. He reached across with lightning quickness and snatched Elic by the fat on his neck.

  “Where is he?” he growled.

  Elic sputtered. “Please…please, I ain’t had nothing to do with it. Don’t kill me.”

  “Kill you?” Kavan laughed. “That would be a waste of my time. Now, where is he? I won’t ask again.”

  Elic broke and told him everything. Crying, the innkeeper sat huddled in the corner long after Kavan left. When dawn finally arrived, people found the body of the one-eyed man with his own sword run through his heart.

  FIFTEEN

  Hunted

  Pirneon ignored the fresh blood staining Kavan’s tunic when he rejoined them. They’d made it out of Groskus without further incident, but their luck failed there. Aphere and Barum managed to scavenge a sack of oats for the horses along with a few other items, though not enough to see them across the mountains. Kavan offered a half-hearted collection of various food items raided from the Hanging Man.

  “There might be another problem,” Kavan told them a half-day’s ride out from Groskus. “The ferry is operated by men loyal to the crime lords in Groskus. Word may have already gone out about us. I don’t need to remind you that the borderlands are lawless and dangerous. Even for a knight.”

  “How many normally garrison the ferry?” Aphere asked.

  Kavan shrugged. “There were about twenty the last time I crossed. If the alarm’s been raised, a whole company could be heading to cut us off.”

  “Lovely.”

  Pirneon sucked in his right cheek and checke
d the horizon. “We can’t burn the ferry once across?”

  “We’d be cutting off too many villages from the trade routes, not to mention the amount of lost revenue the caravan merchants would face. We burn the ferry and there’ll be a hefty price on our heads,” Kavan cautioned. “These crime lords don’t forgive, and they never forget. I’d say we’re already worth about a hundred gold pieces. Our heads are, at any rate.”

  “You’re full of good news today,” Aphere said and kicked her heels into her horse. “I’m going to go scout.”

  “Can’t you use your newfound powers to halt them?” Pirneon harshly demanded.

  Aphere winced. “I’ve never tried. It doesn’t work like that, Pirneon.”

  She clicked her heels into her mare’s flank and stormed off.

  They watched her ride off to relieve Barum. Soon even her dust trail was lost.

  “Determined woman,” Pirneon said in a fatherly tone.

  Kavan grinned. “She is one of us. How did you two come to be traveling together and what was that about powers?”

  Pirneon offered a sly smile. “Opposite sides of the same war.”

  He paused to enjoy the puzzled look on Kavan’s face before telling the rest of the tale.

  “These are strange times indeed,” was all Kavan managed when he had finished.

  Pirneon kept riding.

  They rode for nearly two days at a slightly quickened pace. Pirneon knew that an undetermined force was keeping apace of them, riding hard to beat them to the ferry. If that happened, the Gaimosians were left with two options. They could try to fight through the blockade or spend weeks riding up and down the river to the nearest ford. Both paths were equally dangerous, for even if they escaped the ferry ambush, they’d be harried until the brigands’ vengeance wore out.