“A man needs hobbies to balance himself,” Grinnd said, slightly affronted. “There is more to me than just my muscles, after all. A true warrior sharpens his mind and his sword, as both require use in battle.”
“Is it just me,” Terian mused, “or does ‘sharpening your sword’ sound like a euphemism for sex?”
“You’ll have to forgive my son,” Amenon said after a moment’s pause in which no one said anything. “He seems to suffer from a near-terminal case of needing to speak every insignificant thought that springs to his mind, even when best they remain unshared.”
Terian felt his cheeks burn with the dark navy of his embarrassment. “Or maybe unlike you I simply feel a need to talk about things I enjoy in my life. I suppose that would take feeling an emotion for you to understand.”
Amenon sent a scalding look his way, and Terian actually felt himself quail before it. The others, if they thought anything of it, were wise enough not to comment.
The party continued on across the savanna in silence, and Terian fell to the back of the pack. A few minutes later, Dahveed joined him at the rear, his white robes swishing with the calm exertion of his steps. “I find it strange to see you here with us, Terian.”
“Why is that, Dahveed?” Terian asked, listening to the gentle tapping of the blades of long grass brushing against his armor as he walked. “Because my father can’t stand me, I can’t stand him, and yet here we both are, together again in misery?”
“No, that’s easily understood,” Dahveed said with a shake of his head. He reached out his hand, letting the tall tops of the long grass, their seed pods extended, brush against it as he passed through them. “Your father had need of an heir, you had nowhere else to go, and money was offered. That’s simple.”
“I didn’t need anywhere to go,” Terian said, almost growling. “I’d found a life in Reikonos.”
Dahveed’s expression was purest amusement. “I heard about that. You cannot tell me that you, raised in the manner you were, would ever have been happy simply being an idle guardsman scraping by in that human city.”
“There are more than just humans there,” Terian said, avoiding the obvious point that he had no refutation for.
“There are,” Dahveed agreed. “I have been there myself, you know. But that’s a minor point to quibble with when the greater accusation I just leveled had more to do with you consigning yourself to doing less than you’re capable of.”
“I always do less than I’m capable of,” Terian said with a grin. “It keeps expectations low and allows me to slide right on by doing what I want to do instead of more things that I’d have to do.”
Dahveed nodded sagely, a strangely puckered grimace on his face. “So I’ve heard.” He looked sidelong at Terian. “But I had thought you had changed in the wake of your admission to Sanctuary. I had heard rumors—rumors only, I suppose—that you had decided to stand up and become a person to be counted—not a low, slagging wretch drifting through his life like you were when you left. An officer of the guild, intent on fulfilling the great purpose set by the Guildmaster.”
Terian felt his lips purse and the warm wind ran through the cracks in his armor as a trickle of sweat ran down his back. “How do you know about Sanctuary’s purpose?”
Thalless laughed as though this were the greatest joke he’d heard, his robes swishing and bright red hair shifting in the hot wind. “I didn’t know it was a secret.”
“It’s not,” Terian said, shifting his attention to the mouth of the valley visible on the horizon. “It just isn’t … widely circulated.” He felt his head dip, as though shame were forcing it down. “Guilds aren’t renowned for having greater purposes. They’re a step above a mercenary band; treasure hunters, beast killers, explorers—we adventurers are a fractious and self-interested lot.”
“Indeed,” Dahveed said. “I thought it most peculiar when first I’d heard the news. Terian Lepos, the wastrel, officer of a guild that professes to fight against the darkness?” A wide grin split the healer’s face. “I thought perhaps I had heard it wrong.” He raised his hands for effect, then clasped them back together again in front of him. “But, no, I heard it again and again, in whisper and rumor, circulating among those who would know. I pondered it for a piece, truly I did. And suddenly it did not seem so strange to me.”
“Why is that?” Terian asked.
“Because the one thing you have lacked since the day you left was something you could truly believe in.”
“I believed in what I was doing in when I was still in training at the Legion,” Terian said, but it didn’t even sound like his own voice.
Thalless laughed, loudly—too loudly for the wide, grassy savanna, and he drew a stern look from Amenon. “Your lying needs practice.”
They walked on, and Thalless said no more. Terian did not press him, either, but not for lack of interest. A part of me wants to know what he has to say; the other thinks it’s all foolishness. He felt a sourness build within him. He hasn’t known me in years. The bitterness grew as he said the words in his soul. No one does. Not anymore.
If they ever did.
Chapter 12
They crept through the outer gates of Kortran under a spell of invisibility cast by Bowe. They made their way down a rocky path, one that Terian had trod only a few months earlier. He didn’t know it well enough to know the curves, but they kept to the shadows cast by the boulders as they hid in the lee of the trail. They made their way in short bursts, Verret at the fore and scouting carefully the way down. He paced them by a hundred feet on the wide-open trail and signaled every few minutes when a patrol came in his sight. Always he hid before they saw him, and the rest were forced to cover. There was no shortage of boulders in the road—small stones to the titans, no doubt—and they hid truly and well from the few of the enormous beasts that they encountered on the way down.
Terian caught a look at a titan as it passed. Massive, it stretched into the sky the height of twenty men stood on end. The ground shook as it went by, sending vibrations up his ankles and knees. The shadow of the ledge above him helped keep him concealed, and Terian’s face sweated inside the heavy metal of the helm covering the sides of his head. He kept his hand still, though, not quite ready to make a motion yet, even though the titans had yet to look back.
“We’re like mice to them,” Grinnd said quietly, prompting Xem to nod along with his statement.
“Xemlinan,” Terian’s father said in a low, commanding voice, “join Verret at the fore on scouting detail. We’ll halt outside the city until the fall of night.” He looked skyward. “That seems likely to be about six hours or more from now, and we’ll need a quiet, out-of-the-way place to stay hidden until we can pass through the streets unseen.”
“We could just use an invisibility spell and go now,” Grinnd suggested.
Amenon did not glare at Grinnd, but the dismissal in his tone was hard as iron. “Those spells are notoriously unreliable. This mission calls for minimal risk of discovery.” He looked at Terian with a knowing glance. “Should we be discovered, they will hunt for us high and low, and their guard shall increase in the days that follow.”
Terian nodded along with his father. “It’s true. It happened when last I was here, a few months ago. Someone penetrated their defenses, and they were on guard at the very least on the night after it. I wouldn’t be surprised if their vigilance carried them through at least another month.”
“We shall keep our presence to the shadows,” Amenon said quietly. “No engagement with the titans unless it can’t be avoided. As much as I’d enjoy matching my steel against these beasts in the name of the Sovereign, we shall keep our focus on our mission, on our orders, and leave the desire for battle to another occasion.”
“Such as after we’ve killed the traitor?” Grinnd suggested.
Amenon let the faintest smile show. “Perhaps. Perhaps then. But only then, once we have finished our duty.” The smile faded, as though swa
llowed whole into an abyss. “And in this matter, as with all others I undertake in the Sovereign’s name—I will not fail.”
Chapter 13
Time marched along surprisingly quickly. They found a cave further down the path, the discarded bones of small animals littering the ground. “Looks like someone of our stature has camped here at some point,” Verret observed.
“You don’t think it was a titan, do you?” Grinnd asked, looking around the darkened cave, surveying the castoffs, the garbage left behind by someone who had long since vacated the small cavern.
Terian snorted. “You saw them. You think they could fit in here?”
Grinnd gave him a wry look. “All it would take is a good grasping hand.” He gave a glance to the mouth of the cave. “I expect they could fit a finger in for a good poke that’d end a man. Or woman.”
Terian let a faint smile cross his features. “Most women I know enjoy a good poke.” He cocked his head to the side. “Though not necessarily in the end.”
“The women say differently,” Xem murmured under his breath. “At least from you.”
“Enough childishness,” Amenon said with sufficient quiet menace to shut them all up instantly. “We’ll sit here, quiet, until the hour of darkness.” He met each of their gazes in turn. “Strictest silence. Let there be no chance that our voices give us away.”
They did indeed sit in silence, occasionally rummaging through small pouches on their belts for preserved foodstuffs. Terian chewed on a hard lump of jerky that he had purchased long before he left Reikonos. The salt was heavy in the thing, overpowering any other spices that might have been used when the meat was dried. He gnawed on it, let the faint, smoked flavor cover his taste buds, and listened to the sound of water dripping somewhere behind him.
The rest of the party did not make much noise. Grinnd could be heard breathing, just barely, and he sat still, as if he had merged with the wall, his eyes open but staring straight ahead. Terian realized he had not moved in several hours, and would have been concerned but knew the warrior could be intensely quiet and still when he desired to be.
Bowe seemed to be in some sort of meditative trance, his hands held out to either side, palms open. Terian watched him as he sat there, his long hair tucked over his shoulder and his face serene. He gave no sign that there was anyone around them, or that he was anything other than content to be sitting in the dark, in a cave, his eyes closed but not sleeping.
Xem was perhaps the twitchiest of them, a knife drawn from his scabbard and clutched in his hands. It was ornate and well decorated, with a skull on the pommel grinning back at him. When Terian met Xem’s eyes, he saw something that he hadn’t seen from the gentleman of Sovar before, a kind of fear or pain that quickly vanished when he realized that Terian was looking at him. He fidgeted once more, tucked the knife back into his belt, and sat still for a time after that, making no noise.
Nightfall came on a few hours later, filling the cave with darkness like the slow rise of floodwaters. Terian kept as near to motionless as possible, but compared to his father, he failed horribly. Amenon was a statue of himself, not meditating, not fidgeting, simply sitting as still or more so than even Grinnd. The movement of his eyes in the dark, flicking from each member of his party to the next was the only sign he was even still alive, though Terian recognized the determined look in his father’s eyes. It would be a bad time to raise his ire. Hours of introspection had not left him with an overabundance of desire for a verbal sparring match with his father in any event. I just want to move, to swing my sword, to throw a Lockjaw curse at something that will feel it.
“Come,” Amenon said after the cave had become totally enshrouded with the rise of night. He stood, slowly and quietly, his armor making only the slightest noise as he did so. There was a faint glow of torches somewhere outside, fires burning so that the titans could see in the dark, their eyes as pathetic at seeing through the blackness as a human’s. We are the rulers of the night, Terian thought, just as Yartraak always intended it. It is our birthright, the dark, and we knights who tread in the shadows are the ones to walk in both worlds.
They walked out of the cave, the rough stone path echoing with the clatter of metal from the ones who wore plate boots. It was quiet enough outside that Verret motioned them forward, no sign of any sentries to block their passage. A ring road circled the bowl of the valley, and as they crossed it Terian took only cursory notice of the surface being made of solid wood. They descended into the city, which was laid out in a pattern before them, down in the bottom of the valley, stone buildings from one side of the natural bowl in the land to the other.
They reached street level, leaving the ramp behind as they ran for cover in the shadow of the nearest house. They stuck to the dark spots on the street, veering carefully away from the illuminated zones where torches cast their light. The whole of the town had a powerful stink, stronger than any other town he’d been in. He wondered at it for a moment, then dodged when a window above him opened on the massive house that they were walking along the front of. Something was thrown out the window and splashed onto the wooden street magnifying the foul stench. It took Terian only a moment to realize it was a chamber pot that had been emptied.
“Holy Sovereign,” Xem said, nearly gagging. “No wonder the place smells so powerfully bad.”
“Aye,” Grinnd said with a wary look, barely visible in the shadow in which they were hiding, “their turds are as big as you.” He smiled broadly and looked over at Verret, chucking a thumb at the scout. “And they look like him.”
“Silence,” Amenon said, only once, and a pall fell over the group, as though someone had stolen their voices. Terian looked around at each of them, all serious now. If this were Sanctuary, Vaste would still be cracking wise, filling the air with his japes. He felt a hardening in his heart and his resolve. Just as well, then; base foolishness has no place in a mission such as this.
They followed Verret’s lead. The scout seemed to have a map either in his mind or close about his person, because he never once came back to them for directions and never seemed to doubt his course. Terian wondered if he’d simply missed seeing his father give Verret a map to lead them to their destination or if the man was operating from some instinct that he was unaware of. No … Father would never allow him to simply drag us along without purpose. He watched as Verret took them down an alley as black as any day in Sovar, following the lead. No, he’s been told where to go.
They slid up to a house that was a towering thing, a multi-story creation that had some ornate finishings around the edges of the stone building. They crept to the door. Even before they attempted to open it, Terian wondered if it was barred. That would make this a short trip.
Verret halted them next to it. The nearest lamp was down the street a long ways, but a lantern glowed in the window, casting a pale light for them. Verret held up a hand calling for silence, then motioned for them to each take up position by the door and gestured for Grinnd to open it. They all lined up, Amenon first behind Grinnd at the edge of the frame. The big warrior reached under the crack between the ground and the door and hooked his arms underneath it. He started to pull, keeping his exertion quiet, even as the strain began to show on his face. It grew a deeper blue, navy, as though he were holding his breath while pulling with all the force in his muscles. Terian saw a crack appear in between the frame and the door, and it grew wide enough for Verret to squeeze in, which he did, then his hand popped back out and motioned for them to follow. Amenon went first, with Xem only seconds behind him. Dahveed and Terian followed, while Bowe brought up the rear as Grinnd shut the door very slowly behind them.
They found themselves in a wide, open room with a hearth roaring with faint flames that still stood taller than Terian’s head. He stared at the massive logs within the fireplace and wondered from whence they had come, remembering tales of massive forests south of Kortran in the mountains that spanned the expanse between the titan city and the Ashen
Wastelands of the dragons to the south. There were no signs of giants in the room, nor of any living things at all, just a mighty staircase in the corner with steps taller than a man.
“How did you find this place, Verret?” Terian asked, approaching the grey-clad scout as the man drew his sword. Terian heard the others unsheathe their blades. His eyes fell on Grinnd, who carried two fat swords with blades as wide as his thigh, but shorter than the average bastard sword.
Verret’s long, thin, curved blade matched its master in two of the dimensions. If he leaned over, he’d just about look like it. “I studied the map of Kortran that your father gave me and noted the location that was given to us.” He tapped his head. “It’s all in here, now, along with an exit route, should we need it.” His eyes flicked to Bowe. “Though I suspect we’ll just teleport once we’re done.”
“I didn’t see you look at a map,” Terian said, more for conversation than anything.
“I only need to look once,” Verret replied, his long, white length of hair swaying behind him as he took the lead again, keeping close to the wall at their left. He looked ready to make a circle around the perimeter of the room, which was shadowed, the dying fire the only source of light. Terian was the first to follow him this time, and they clung close to a rock wall. There appeared a buckle in the wood under the stairs, and Terian realized after a moment that it was a hole, only barely concealed. He started to point to it but Verret nodded once, sharply, to stop him.
It was going to be a tight squeeze, Terian realized, looking it over. Verret halted a good thirty feet away, behind a well-placed bucket that was large enough for all of them to hide in plus a few others. That’s a blind hole that we’re going to have to charge into. Terian’s eyes tried to pierce the darkness within. He looked back and saw his father doing the same, peering at it. Verret waited until Amenon gave a gesture to move up, and they all slowed their pace to the quietest speed possible, tiptoeing along. Loud snores echoed through the house from upstairs; Terian was certain that if a titan was moving around up there, it would be obvious. So we’re being quiet for the sake of this heretic. This mysterious heretic. He tried to remember the face from the sketch on the poster his father had brought.
Thy Father's Shadow (Book 4.5) Page 9