Darker the Shadow (The Howler King Trilogy Book 1)

by J. Lloyd Morgan

  During the process of sorting out the supplies, Pendr had a moment to reflect on what had happened. The first person who came to his mind was Danla. She had not been in the same camp as Pendr, so as far as he knew, she was safe. Or maybe her camp was attacked as well. No. He could not dwell on thoughts like that. What he needed to do at the moment was focus on what he could control.

  “So, what now?” Lunz asked. “We aren’t trained for battle, at least not enough to take on seasoned soldiers. And since we’ve been running haphazardly through the forest, we’re lost. We have as good of a chance running into enemy soldiers as friendly ones.”

  “Based on what?” Ayab asked. Bits of leaves stuck to his curly hair, most likely from when they made their way quickly through the underbrush. “We’re still in Nothcar. We haven’t ventured far enough south to be in enemy lands.”

  “Listen, you woolen head,” Lunz said, jabbing a finger toward Ayab. “Haven’t you been paying attention? We were on the king’s land when we were attacked. The borders may have shifted. We could be surrounded by the enemy. We should have headed to the river instead of the forest. From there, I could have found our way home.”

  “Home?” Rheq asked snidely. “Which home? Yours? In Logs Puddle?”

  “Logs Pond,” Lunz said through gritted teeth.

  “Home for a soldier is where he sleeps that night,” Eladrel said. Like Pendr, Eladrel was tall, but when he offered to carry Rilam, Pendr was unsure. He was leery at first to accept the help, mainly because Pendr did not know the other younger man well enough to trust him or if he had the strength to do it. Soon enough, Eladrel’s easy manner and willingness to help won Pendr over.

  “Eladrel makes a good point. We’re still soldiers,” Pendr said.

  “You all may want to believe that,” Lunz said, “but I am smart enough to know it is a hopeless cause. We’re better off back in our hometowns.”

  “Who’s the woolen head, now?” Rheq asked. Though he was younger and small, Rheq talked like he was not intimidated by the older boys. “Don’t you know what the king does to deserters?” He made a slashing motion across his throat.

  “That’s if the king is still alive,” Ayab said quietly.

  Everyone turned to face the sheepherder. “Do you know something we don’t?” Eladrel asked quickly, though not confrontationally.

  Ayab didn’t meet any of their eyes when he said, “You all saw how our fellow conscripts were slaughtered. Even a seasoned knight like Sir Lokan didn’t last long. And that was only part of the enemy we faced.”

  “It would have been different if more knights were there,” Ayab said.

  “How can you know that?” Lunz countered.

  Ayab frowned in response.

  “That’s right,” Lunz said. “You don’t know. You all are—”

  “Enough,” Pendr said.

  Lunz whipped his head toward Pendr. “Who are you to tell—”

  “Enough,” Pendr said again, this time with a harder edge in his voice. He did not like to be so forceful, but there were times when it seemed that was the only way to get Lunz to listen. “I was chosen as squad leader, and that hasn’t changed.” He faced Eladrel for reassurance. “We are soldiers. We need to act that way.”

  The rest of the group remained quiet, even Lunz, though he shifted uneasily. Pendr preferred not being the center of attention, perhaps because of his large stature, people noticed him whether he wanted it or not. At the same time, he took responsibility, of any sort, seriously. He considered the options and tried to prioritize them. He came up with a basic plan.

  “First, we need to help Rilam. Does anyone here have experience treating wounds?”

  “I have some skills,” Eladrel said, though he did not elaborate.

  “I see,” Pendr said, after a moment. “Eladrel, please tend to Rilam. Ayab, go with him.”

  The young man from Brentwood nodded, gathered the bandages and ointment, and went back further under the fallen tree to where they had placed their wounded companion. Ayab followed.

  Pendr rubbed his chin as he thought of the next step. “We need to get a sense of where we are—or at the very least, a direction we can head. Heading north is the most logical conclusion since that will take us away from our enemy’s homeland.”

  “That’s obvious,” Lunz said.

  “It’s also foolishness,” Rheq said. “Have you learned nothing of war?”

  Lunz balled his fists. “I’m growing weary of your tongue, little boy.”

  “Fine,” Rheq said. “Go north. You’ll be dead before the end of the quarter-moon.”

  Before Lunz could inflame the situation more, Pendr interceded. “Rheq, what do you mean?”

  “Remember, I’m from Umstead,” Rheq said. “It’s close to the border. My family lives with the constant threat of invasion. A tactic used in war is to divide and conquer. The enemy who hit us flanked our main force and hit our supply lines—namely us. If they’re smart, they’ll continue north, into the heart of the king’s land and attack the villages and towns which supply the army.”

  Pendr let out a deep breath. What Rheq stated made sense. Yet, that did not help with what they should do next. Staying here, under the fallen tree was not a long term option. Most likely the soldiers who had attacked had also seen them escape into the forest. Though they had tried to double back and cross streams, Pendr knew it would not be hard to track them.

  “So, if we can’t go north, and going south isn’t an option, that leaves east and west,” Pendr said.

  “East is where we were attacked,” Lunz said. “That means we go west.”

  “No, we should go east,” Rheq said, sounding very sure of himself.

  “Why?” Pendr and Lunz asked at the same time.

  Rheq leaned forward. “Because it is the last thing our enemy expects.”

  Chapter 11

  Iredell was five night’s travel from the palace, meaning Wyjec and his company would have to stop to camp during the trip. Captains Avadi and Kishul, along with one thousand men and servants, accompanied Wyjec.

  Everyone in the company was on horseback, wearing the land’s symbol—a crescent moon on a dark blue background. The knights who wore plate mail displayed the standard on their cloaks, whereas the pikemen in quilted tunics had the pattern sewn into their armor. At first, Wyjec was unsure he could manage to ride on a horse. It was not a skill he needed as a chardi. From the deeper parts of his mind, areas he had not visited in many winters, he recalled riding a horse before he was sent to serve in the palace. With those memories came feelings of fondness. Animals had surrounded him as a child—dogs, cats, horses, sheep, chickens. A farm, he must have lived on a farm. Was his family still there? If so, why had they given him up? The Masters punished anyone who spoke of their lives before coming to the palace—over time, Wyjec stopped thinking anything about his early childhood. He would have to think more about those early seasons of his life at a different time. For now, he needed to be aware of his current environment. He had power, and he knew there would be others that would try to take it from him.

  Before leaving the palace which Wyjec had claimed as his own, he grasped the blue myelur and surrounded himself with a protective layer—a shielding unseen by normal eyes—which covered his dark leather riding outfit. The experience drained him, but not as much as in the past. It seemed the more he used the blue myelur, the less of a toll it took. Or perhaps I’m growing in strength. That notion excited Wyjec. He was already powerful, but he realized that he might become even more so.

  They left before the sun rose, at Wyjec’s insistence. He used the darkness to continue to help him see the red myelur more easily and with it the golden amber revealing people’s intention. If any planned to do him harm, Wyjec would be able to see it first.

  Upon reaching the horses, Captain Avadi showed Wyjec to the mare which he would be riding. Like the vermin Wyjec had faced before, the red myelur flowed through the animal, as it did for all living creatures. That m
eant Wyjec could control his ride by manipulating her intentions.

  Wyjec mounted the horse, and in doing so, from his peripheral vision noticed a flicker of amber from Captain Kishul. It was fleeting, just a glimmer, but the amber glow originated from the captain’s sword arm and focused on Wyjec’s neck. A warning. Wyjec made no indication that he noticed. Let him try. He will make a good example.

  For most of the first day, no one spoke to Wyjec as he followed behind Captain Avadi. While Wyjec would have preferred it was from respect, he understood it was most likely fear. The weak fear power, as I once did. And now, I have the power.

  It was near sunset when Avadi motioned for the company to stop by a sloping, grassy field. Forest covered most of the area, with meadows appearing sporadically. The field Avadi chose looked big enough for the thousand people with whom they traveled. Captain Avadi trotted forward, toward the middle of the field. He motioned for two knights to flank him on either side. During this commotion, Wyjec heard Kishul remove his sword from its scabbard. At the same moment, Kishul kicked his horse into motion toward Wyjec.

  With the blue myelur already protecting him from physical harm, Wyjec decided instead to make a special example from Kishul’s foolhardy actions. Ignoring the man, Wyjec seized the red myelur and focused on Kishul’s horse. Pushing with his mind, Wyjec forced the horse to come to a stop and remove Kishul from his back.

  The steed bucked ferociously, unhorsing Kishul. The captain fell to the ground, face first, losing his sword upon impact. Another push from Wyjec’s mind and the large, armored horse turned his attention to stomping on Kishul. Wyjec watched in satisfaction as the huge animal crushed Kishul’s body to a bloody pulp in front of onlookers. Another push through the red myelur and the horse came to rest as if nothing happened. With the use of the red myelur, Wyjec felt power flow through him—he felt energized, dominant.

  Wyjec looked up at the soldiers still mounted who watched the scene with horrific expressions. “Does anyone else want to try to kill me?” he asked, speaking with open hostility.

  No one moved, nor did Wyjec sense any threat from them. In reality, none of them met his piercing gaze. Good. They know their place.

  “Master,” came Captain Avadi’s voice from behind Wyjec. “I had no idea Kishul would attack you. I’ve sworn myself to your service, and to break my vow would mean that I have no right being the captain of your forces.”

  Wyjec peered over his shoulder. The amber glow radiating from Avadi pulsed toward the captain’s heart. Interesting. Perhaps intention toward one’s own heart was an indication of sincerity. If that was so, it was another tool that Wyjec could use to keep his power.

  “I believe you, Captain,” Wyjec said. “Now, have camp set up before it gets dark.”

  “As you say, Master.” Avadi saluted by pounding his right fist to his left shoulder—a symbol of respect.

  In short order, the camp was established. A large, canvas tent stood at the center. Covering it was an oiled leather tarp to keep out any rain which may fall during the night. Wyjec was pleased to see the tent was large enough to fit a quilted, down mattress placed on a wooden pallet. Avadi had done well when he organized the supplies for the trip. The man understood what Wyjec had been taught by the Masters: “When you serve those in power, do more than they expect, lest you feel their wrath.”

  The scents of roasted mutton soon filled the campsite, causing Wyjec’s mouth to water. Since taking control of the palace, he had been able to eat and drink as much as he wanted, yet he was still quite sinewy. It would take time to build up a proper weight—and he had discovered that mutton was one of his favorites. Avadi once again had been paying attention.

  Before dinner could be served, sounds of surprise and muffled shouts came from the far side of the camp. Armoring himself in a blue myelur covering, Wyjec stepped from his tent to investigate.

  A middle-aged soldier, adorned in chainmail and a conical plate helm, raced toward his tent. Upon seeing Wyjec, he fell to one knee.

  “Master,” he said, his tone showing reverence. “Word from our scouts outside of Iredell: The enemy is once again approaching in vast numbers.”

  “How soon before they arrive?” Wyjec asked.

  “Six nights, perhaps seven. But, Master, the force is too large. We won’t be able to hold Iredell.”

  Wyjec grinned. “Oh? Tell the men we will be victorious. I will be there before the enemy can attack.”

  Chapter 12

  Pendr used his left hand to shield his eyes from the morning’s rays. After more discussion the previous night, it was agreed that the survivors Pendr led would head east, meaning they would be walking toward the rising sun.

  They had taken turns keeping guard while the others rested. Pendr volunteered to go first, even though he had been bone-weary. When he finally slept, he had done so deeply and awoke more refreshed than he would have thought possible.

  More remarkable was Rilam’s recovery. His wounds were bound, yet even that would not explain how quickly he was able to recover from the arrows. Pendr knew he should be grateful that his group would be able to move faster, though he found he was uneasy for a reason he could not place. Rilam had even stopped complaining.

  “We go east for how long? What are we even looking for?” Lunz asked after they had traveled for most of the morning.

  Rheq, walking directly behind the mayor’s son, answered before Pendr could. “Shelter. Provisions. And hopefully more survivors.”

  “Who put you in charge, little man?” Lunz asked over his shoulder.

  Rheq responded by kicking Lunz’s left foot, causing the mayor’s son to trip. Lunz was able to stop his fall by grabbing onto a tree branch, but he was off balance enough that he could not respond with force.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Lunz asked as he steadied his feet.

  Rheq crouched, shifting from side to side. “That’s the last time you will say anything about my size. I am quicker than you and more experienced in combat. My people have to be. And I’m not in charge. Pendr is. I’m offering tactical advice. He’s smart enough to listen to it. What are you doing to help the group aside from questioning everything?”

  “You will not speak to me that way,” Lunz said, reaching to unsheathe his short sword.

  Before Lunz could brandish his weapon, Pendr reached out and grabbed Lunz by the back of his neck, his strong fingers squeezing tightly.

  “Stop it!” Pendr said, speaking once again in a strong voice that surprised even himself. Rarely did he raise his voice in frustration, but the situation was dangerous enough without in-fighting. “Lunz, do not draw your sword. Rheq, take the lead.”

  The rest of the young men watched quietly, none appearing to want involvement in the conflict. For a moment, Lunz did not move, but then eventually he dropped his hand away from his weapon.

  “That’s why Pendr’s in charge,” Rheq said as he walked passed Lunz to take his place at the front of the line.

  From that moment until mid-afternoon, everyone followed Rheq as he wove a path through the forest, stopping time and again to allow Rilam to rest and letting all of them eat small portions of the rations. Based on Pendr’s previous experiences in the forest, which were few, he could not tell how far they had traveled. The noises of small animals and birds, mixed with the chirping of insects, gave the impression there was nothing to fear. Still, Pendr forced himself to stay vigilant. There had been no warning when their camp fell under attack, and he doubted he would be aware of enemies until they made their presence known.

  The arbors began to thin, allowing Pendr to see further into the forest than before. Shafts of sunlight cut through the canopy, illuminating patches of the leaf covered ground. Ahead and to the left stood a copse of trees, thicker than those around them. Rheq shifted his direction to enter the heavily wooded area.

  The walk gave Pendr time to think, and though he tried to avoid the subject, his mind once again returned to Ayab’s claim of arrows bouncing off him. There wer
e a few reasons this could have happened. First, Ayab could have been mistaken. There was no proof, and in the heat of battle, not all was as clear as it seemed. Second, the arrows may have glanced off Pendr and only appeared to have bounced away. But even glancing blows would leave a mark. The third option, which Pendr would rather not believe, was that it was something more. He had, after all, felt an odd sensation—like cool water coursing through him, yet draining him of his energy at the same time. Could it be the myelur? No. That was not possible. What Pendr knew of the myelur was that it passed from parent to child. Neither of his parents had the gift, so he could not possess it. Unless they kept it a secret. Pendr quickly dismissed such thoughts. His parents would not lie to him.

  Upon entering the copse, the going became tougher. Thick tree roots hidden under a dense layer of decomposing leaves caused each of the group to trip at least once—all of them except Rheq, who was very sure-footed. The air became mustier, thicker. Breathing took more effort.

  “I think we need a break,” Lunz called out. “It’s been a while.”

  Pendr could not think of a reason to disagree, aside that it was Lunz who made the suggestion. As the leader, it was Pendr’s decision. He paused and inspected the group behind him. They looked weary. Yes, a break would be welcomed.

  “Agreed,” Pendr said. He turned back to tell Rheq to stop, but the younger man was no longer there. “Rheq!” Pendr called out.

  There was no response.

  Something’s not right. Pendr crouched and motioned for the other boys to do so as well.

  “What? What’s going on?” Lunz asked, louder than Pendr would have preferred.