Rescuing the Captive: The Ingenairii Series

by Jeffrey Quyle

  Alec regained the main highway just as the sun began to fall from its zenith. Baltasar had silently led him in his bear form, on a journey of three hours length. “We’ve packed some of our own food in your pack for you,” the man-shaped Baltasar had told him when they arrived back at the road.

  “Thank you for saving her life, and thank you for whatever you have shared with her,” he said, referring to Bernadina. “Your time with her gave her energy and peace. She is happier and more content with what she now believes the world will bring to our people, and yours as well. Journey safely.” He said as they shook hands, then he turned and became a bear, and ambled back towards his home.

  Alec checked the straps on his pack, which he had loosened as he plucked medicinal plants along the journey, then began walking towards the setting sun. The road was less icy, the wind was less frigid, and the journey felt softer, now, some five weeks after he had left the journey. The days will be growing longer, he thought to himself as he walked, and concluded that the mountains had become a gentler place as spring had begun its arrival during his tenure in Warm Springs.

  The next day he passed a caravan headed in the opposite direction, carrying goods towards the cities of the Avonellene Empire. He remained silent as the outriders inspected him, and as the wagon rolled past him, but he marveled at the length of the caravan with more than twenty wagons that he counted.

  As he walked he burrowed through his memories, reacquainting himself with the life he had lived. There were so many accomplishments, several regrets, and so much, so very much, left undone. Why would God have taken him away from all that awaited him in the Dominion, and brought him to Vincennes without all of his knowledge or memories? There was no explanation he could discern. While in warm Springs, many more of his memories had been restored, but there evidently remained more he did not know; the lovely girl in the pool had promised that he would come to know her, and yet she didn’t match any memory he had recovered so far.

  On the fourth day of his renewed journey, he crested a ridge, and saw a mighty fortress dominating a wide plateau just above and a few miles beyond his location. It had to be Black Crag, he knew, judging by the dark stone walls that surrounded the settlement, stark against the wide, snow-covered fields that surrounded it in all directions. Or maybe its name included black in reference to the many dead bodies that hung from the gibbet against the wall, next to the main gate. It was a formidable looking stronghold.

  The sun was high overhead when Alec first caught sight of the daunting walls, and it was still high and relatively warm by the time he arrived at the gate. Many people were outside the walls, he noted. A whole caravan appeared to be camped in a field of snowy mush, and there was evidence that others had camped there as well. There were guards at the gate; more than Alec had ever seen in any city he remembered, these guards were vigilant, observing and questioning every person who sought to enter.

  Many appeared to know a handshake; others whispered a password, while others were turned away. Those who entered were almost exclusively clothed in styles that were very similar to the style of the uniforms the guards at the gate wore, black with brilliant sky blue trim and yellow waistbands. Those who were turned away were dressed in the variable clothing and furs Alec expected of traders and travelers.

  He joined the line to enter the gate with some apprehension, and when his time at the gate came he observed that four of the guards were men, but two were women, women whose posture was just as professional and whose faces were just as sharp as the men’s.

  “Identity and reason for entrance?” a male guard asked when Alec reached the front of the line.

  “My name is Alec, and I’ve come to try to find friends in Black Crag,” he replied cautiously.

  “Do you have a pass?” the man asked, as two of his companions turned to stare at Alec.

  “No, no pass. I just arrived,” Alec answered.

  “Entrance denied. Next in line,” the guard told Alec, dismissing him summarily.

  “How can I find my friends in the fortress? One of them is my sister, and the other is a, friend,” he stammered out the last word, unwilling to reveal the possibly politically charged fact that he sought specifically to find the lady in waiting to the deposed princess.

  “Your sister and your friend?” a different guard chimed in. “Stop holding up the line – move along. Take your foreign accent and go away.”

  Alec closed his eyes, and thought of the patience and wisdom he had seen Bernadina exhibit, compared to the brusque manners of the guards here. It was in part the difference between a safe, isolated society on one hand, and a vulnerable, constantly challenged society on the other, although there was of course deeper, more fundamental differences than that involved.

  There was a sudden unexpected shove in his chest while his eyes were closed, and he began to flail backwards. He opened his eyes and saw that the guard who had spoke last had stepped forward and pushed him aside to make the line resume movement.

  Alec allowed his Warrior powers to engage as he began to fall backwards. He instantly felt in control of his body, and crafted the momentum of the fall to become an elaborate backwards flip, adding altitude to his motion with a leap off his right foot. His hands blurred into action, unsnapping the pack he wore and releasing the tie that held his fur coat on him, while he pulled his sword out of his scabbard, and landed back on his feet, alert, armed, and ready to fight. He felt full of energy, primed by the restful visits to the pools of Warm Springs.

  “That was boorish. Apologize or be punished,” Alec said, but even as he spoke, the six guards snapped out of their momentary state of amazement at his agile display, and drew their own swords. Other residents of the fortress who stood in line, awaiting entry back into Black Crag drew their weapons a well, and Alec stepped back two steps to the side, kicking his pack along with him.

  “Put down your weapon. It is a punishable offense to draw a weapon against a guard at Black Crag,” one of the female guards spoke up, perhaps an officer trying to assert authority to tamp down the potentially violent situation.

  “And is it punishable for a guard to shove a visitor at the gate?” Alec asked, “And then to hide behind the other guards to protect him from the consequences?”

  “The consequences,” the officer began to explain, but was cut off as the offending guard stepped forward.

  “Let me show this uncouth hobo some consequences,” the arrogant guard said. He raised his sword into an attacking posture, and stepped forward into Alec’s field of attack. His sword promptly went flying up into the air following a blurringly fast movement by Alec’s blade, and as it came back down into Alec’s right hand, the guard felt the tip of Alec’s sword pressed against his neck.

  “Give me an apology,” Alec told the shaken guard, as the audience goggled in disbelief.

  “Go ahead and kill me,” the guard spat back defiantly.

  Alec’s blade dropped down in an imperceptible blur, then rose back to the man’s chin. A second later the man’s pants fell down around his ankles, the belt and waistband sliced. There was a twanging noise, and Alec heard an arrow flying towards him from a sentry on top of the wall. His right hand raised his captured sword and blocked the arrow.

  “Wait!” Alec heard the female officer shout loudly. He glanced at her as she pointed to the sentry bowman. “Put that down! Everyone put your weapons down. Now!” she barked the last word emphatically, and Alec snuck peeks as the other guards, and then the crowd members put their weapons away.

  “Visitor, I apologize for my guardsman’s behavior,” she said looking directly at Alec. “My name is Collons, Lieutenant Collons.”

  Alec stared back at her, and as he did, his defeated opponent tried to step away; the man had forgotten he had his pants around his ankles however, and he fell straight backwards. Alec stabbed the man’s weapon into the ground between his legs, just missing his crotch.

  “Do you apologize for his stupidity, too?” Alec asked. “Do you apo
logize for Black Crag’s low standards that allow this type of churlish and uncouth oaf to wear your uniform? Do you?” he asked vehemently.

  “Churlish? Really? Isn’t that laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think?” the officer’s voice had dropped in both volume and stridency, exhibiting a slight droll charm that made Alec grin slightly.

  “I’m outnumbered by a dozen to one here,” Alec said. He elaborately placed his own sword back in the scabbard. “I’m going to lose, it’s only a matter of time; I might as well get my licks in while I can.”

  The defeated guardsman scrambled away, stood up, and shamefacedly pulled his pants up around his waist.

  “Back in the heart of winter’s worst season, two groups came to Black Crag,” the lieutenant said. No one made any motion to disrupt the tableau between the two. “They both had members who told us that they expected an uncanny swordsman to come looking for them. But the swordsman never came. They even delayed their own departure, expecting the swordsman to join them here. But then at last a message arrived that the swordsman had departed from Eckerd, many weeks before. He had vanished somewhere in the mountains, in the cold heart of winter, and wasn’t seen again.

  “Can you tell me who those refugees were?” the officer finished.

  “Did they want the swordsman to catch them, or not?” Alec asked.

  The officer grinned. “One definitely did, while I’m told the other expected it, but seemed to have mixed feelings about in.”

  “Bethany, my sister,” he stared at the rude guard, “was probably the first, and she hopefully made it here with a small band of youths. The second arrival was my friend, the Lady Caitlen, traveling with a caravan, seeking assistance for the Princess Esmere, who intends to retake the throne of Vincennes as the rightful ruler of the land.

  Her eyes had shifted when he spoke about Caitlen, growing narrower momentarily. “Am I right?” he asked. “And if so, what do we do now?”

  “Your answers are close enough for me,” the officer answered. “Tell me, what is your name?”

  “My name is Alec,” he confirmed.

  “It could hardly be anything else,” she muttered. “You have skills that defy belief. If you’ll allow us to re-open the gate to traffic,” she gestured to the large crowd that had grown in a semi-circle around the small theatrical action, straining to hear every word. “I’ll get this straightened out here, and then I’ll take you to the officers who will know what to do with you.”

  Alec bowed as gracefully as he could to signal his acceptance of her offer, although he did not drop his fully engaged Warrior energy. The officer turned her back to him, and set her guards to work resuming their duty at the gate. “Ferguson,” she spoke to the guard Alec had bested, “go to your barracks and put on proper equipment. You’ll serve two turns at punishment duty for your actions today,” she told him. The man looked at Alec with a sideways glance that was afraid to be a glare, and stomped into Black Crag, out of Alec’s sight.

  “You’re unnaturally young,” the officer said as she motioned him over to her a few minutes later. “Come with me,” she said brusquely, and led Alec in through the gates, inside the fortress of Black Crag. Immediately inside the gateway was a wide open space through which they were urged to “pass quickly” by guards at the nearest intersections. Through the plaza they entered a narrow road that made abrupt ninety degree turns, with all buildings along its sides at least four or five stories tall.

  The whole city inside the walls was built to favor the defenders in the event the gate was breached, Alec surmised as he observed the difficulty any invader would have in surviving defenders firing arrows, dropping stones or otherwise attacking. As he tried to appreciate the martial genius of the Black Crag creators, their path entered an open plaza; in its center stood a windowless cube of stone.

  “This is the command center,” his escort told him. “I’m going to leave you here with the external activities command.”

  “How do they see in there? It must be dark as night,” Alec commented.

  “There are internal windows, looking at an interior courtyard,” she replied. “May I ask a question?” she asked in turn. Alec nodded. “Where have you been for the past month? No one could survive living in the mountains without shelter.”

  “I was attacked by bandits, and I found a cave,” Alec told a partial truth. He couldn’t give away the secret of Warm Springs, he knew.

  “Someday we need to go and find that bandit gang and absolutely wipe them out. They’ve been a problem for years now,” she muttered. “You’re lucky to have survived.”

  “I don’t think you’ll hear much about them this spring,” Alec told her, as they climbed the stairs and passed a guard at the doorway to the command center.

  “Sir,” the officer reported to a man behind a desk in an upper-floor office inside the chilly dark building, “this swordsman arrived at the gate just a few minutes ago. His name is Alec, he is seeking two friends named Caitlen and Bethany, and he is the best swordsman I have ever seen,” she emphasized the word ‘ever.’

  “Thank you. Return to your post,” the man said, looking up at the officer. He stood as the woman departed, walked around his desk, and offered his hand. “I am Captain Reese,” he introduced himself. “You are a surprise,” he circled around Alec. “We were expecting you some time ago, as were many others. I can understand a single man making the trip up here through the mountains taking a long time,” he finished his revolution, and returned to his desk. “Please have a seat,” he gestured to a chair. “But you must have left Eckerd over two months ago. No one could have survived more than two months in the Frontier Mountains in the winter.

  “I was attacked by a group of bandits,” Alec replied. “I left the highway, and took refuge in a cave, and found a hot spring that helped sustain me.”

  “Could you identify where that happened?” the captain asked.

  “It was snowy. In the mountains.” Alec said flatly.

  The captain looked at him shrewdly. “That’s all? Well, allow me to look at your arms, please.”

  Alec realized that his ingenairii marks were the reason for the question. He lifted his arms and pulled the sleeves to reveal the colorful collection that was embedded in his skin. The captain looked at them briefly.

  “I’ll need to put you to the test, to satisfy our leaders that you are the missing warrior. I do not doubt you personally, but I can’t tell you more about your companions until we can confirm your identity,” Reese told Alec. “Let me find a bed for you in the barracks, and you can spend the night here while I make arrangements to prove your identity tomorrow,” Reese stated.

  “I don’t know that you need to test me for anything. Just tell me if my friends are still here. If they are, I’ll talk to them; if they’re gone, I’ll follow them,” Alec protested.

  “You’re in Black Crag now. You’ll need to follow our ways of doing things here. I’m going to make the arrangements; it won’t cost you anything but a day’s delay,” Reese said firmly. He stood and walked around the desk to the door. “Follow me,” he said, and led the way down the hall and out of the building.

  The city air was chilly in the shadows between the buildings, and Alec was grateful when the slanting light of the setting sun provided some last shreds of warmth in those spots where they passed through its rays. Away from the command center building the city felt more like a typical city, with markets and taverns and shops, even squalid alleys in places, and he relaxed slightly, impatient though he was to learn where his companions were.

  Near the eastern wall they reached a series of buildings that were clearly barracks, and Reese led Alec into one that was a two story affair. “I was in here when I was a recruit, so I’ll vouch that the floor’s cold, the mattress is hard, and the food is bad,” Reese displayed humor that revealed a slight bit of humanity for the first time. They passed through two rooms to a third one that was clearly mostly empty, where Reese hailed a sergeant and settled Alec into a bunk.


  “Where’s the practice armory?” Alec asked as he unslung his pack.

  “Across the yard. It’s the brick building with the red door,” the sergeant answered. “Right next to the mess hall.”

  Reese said farewell, and Alec was alone. He stuffed his supplies in his locker, took off his sword, and lay down on the bunk, relaxing after a day that had swung him back into a reality far different than he had experienced in Warm Springs. The people in Warm Springs undoubtedly worked hard at collecting food, fixing shelters, and otherwise living the duties of life. But they lived in isolation from the wars and dangerous misconduct of the outside world.

  He was the king of the Dominion, or he had been the king. Now he was a mere mercenary of a sort, fighting in a strange land, fighting at this point out of loyalty to his friends. At first he had planned to fight for the principle of overturning the usurpers, but now he knew he was fighting specifically to restore Caitlen to her life in the court. The bond of traveling together had drawn him and the girl close, though the untimely and unsettling prophecy had helped to drive them apart for a time.

  What would Caitlen say if she knew he was a king? What would she say if he told her that he was consort to a woman he didn’t know, one who wasn’t Bethany? She’d think he was shallow, at least in response to the second question.

  Alec opened his eyes, and found that the room had grown darker, but there was light in the adjoining room. Feeling hungry, he rose and walked to the doorway.

  “Who do we have here?” a muscular man asked from his bunk in the middle room. “A new recruit, coming to live in the luxury of the Mountain bunk house?”

  “Just a visitor, I think,” Alec replied, stepping into the room, where a dozen men were changing and prepping. “Captain Reese brought me here for the night.”

  “A visitor staying in a bunk house?” another man asked in a perplexed voice. “There’re better places for visitors to stay. What did you do to make the captain so generous towards you?”

  There was a muted round of laughter. “We’re going to dinner. Perhaps the captain likes you so much he offered to share our gourmet food with you as well?” another man asked.