With Footfalls of Shadow

by Donogan Sawyer

  “I must go soon,” he continued. “Once they see that I am gone, they will discover that you are no longer under the power of the wasps. You must come with me, or face them alone. I do not believe you have the strength to fight.”

  “When do we leave?”

  Verkleet smiled again. “I admire your resolve.”

  “I am a Talon,” Blade answered.

  Verkleet nodded. “If all the Talons are like you, Foster still may have a chance. Let me see that arm.”

  Blade offered his arm and Verkleet inspected it closely. Then he stood up and looked around the floor. There were dead wasps lying all around the cavern. Most were dried out, and had been swept aside, but several of the more recently deceased lay close to them. Verkleet picked up one of them, and then another. He inspected them, discarding the one in his left hand, and cracking open the tail of the other. Blade shuddered as Verkleet approached him, holding the stinger of the wasp like the stem of a wine glass.

  Verkleet cackled at Blade’s reaction. “Ha, you are going to learn something today, my young friend,” he said. He took hold of Blade’s injured arm below the wrist and pulled it straight. Blade winced, and turned his head as Verkleet poured the contents of the morbid goblet on his wound. The substance was thick and very sticky.

  “Ha, Mr Blade, you trust easily.”

  “I don’t know what you want from me yet, but you obviously want me alive for now, and seem to know a few tricks,” he replied. He flexed his injured arm a few times. “By Katchek’s sword, the pain is gone!”

  “Wonderful, isn’t it? A long time ago, I was a doctor, you see; well, among other things,” Verkleet replied. “It is essential for the survival of the wasp’s young that the host does not die from its injuries, or squirm around too much writhing in pain; so wasp venom has incredible healing power, and it is a terrific anaesthetic. We used to store this stuff as a healing agent. It could work miracles. That’s actually why these wasps are here, you know. We bred these things ourselves. But things changed after a few centuries.”

  “Excuse me?” Blade asked. “A few centuries?”

  Verkleet laughed again in such a way that Blade could not help but to smile with him, then he answered, “You can see I’m just a crazy old man, Mr Blade. Don’t pay attention to anything I say.”

  “No, sir, I believe I will continue to listen to you very closely,” replied Blade.

  “Ha, ha. All right, then, suit yourself. Now here’s what we need to do. We must wait until Gastious comes alone. He is the only one that does. We must make him believe we are dead. He will not have a man to send in to check on us, and will have to come himself. He will open the door so that we may escape, provided we prepare an adequate trap. This battle will be won with guile, not with strength. The half-Bok is a brute and fearless. He will not expect an attack. Surprise is our only advantage.”

  “There are two of us to only one of him,” Blade pointed out.

  “I am an old man, and you have only one arm. Together we may be half as strong as he.”

  “He is also short an arm these days,” Blade argued.

  “By now I fear that is yet another advantage he has over us.”

  ~Æ~

  Rhoie sat at the bar. He had failed. Still, Liam had survived. That was all that mattered, he supposed, but that did not keep him from feeling angry with himself. He should have been there for Liam. He had envisioned riding in on horseback and sweeping him off the dais just before he was to be executed. He knew that was fanciful thinking, but it was the hope of helping Liam that urged him to ride on. He had ridden as fast as his horse was able. Still, he was too late. Blade and Darryck had been right. He should have followed orders. Rhoie was overjoyed that Liam was still alive, but he could not keep from thinking that it was in spite of his failure.

  Now, as he sipped his ale, he wondered what he ought to do. He had been given no orders beyond riding to the capital. He considered searching for Liam, but he knew that all the soldiers in the city were looking for him. His search would not only be futile, it could also land him in prison. For the moment, he could think of nothing else to do besides order another ale.

  ~Æ~

  Liam bathed in Filos’s enormous tub. He was thankful for the chance to clean himself, and to reflect on the incredible circumstances of his escape. He had seen men sacrifice their lives for him. Everything was different now. First of all, he was alive. He did not expect that. The people were behind him, and now he had a motley group of new allies waiting for him down the stairs. He felt certain he was playing a part in something far larger than himself. His responsibilities were now to those men and women who believed in him. He was not sure what was to come next. He felt he had been given another chance at life. He felt he owed it to the people who had saved him. Somehow, he would spend this life trying to make good on the sacrifices they had made.

  He towelled himself dry, dressed in some of Filos’s oversized but agreeable clothing, and went to the dining room where Lyra was ministering to the wound on Filos’s leg to great effect. Travis, Richard, Kaila and Rhemus sat waiting.

  “Before we discuss our next move,” Liam began, “I would just like to thank you all for what you have done. I would not be here now without your help. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

  The room was silent for a moment.

  “I’m thinking a room in the palace with my own bath,” said Travis, very seriously. “With bath girls, mind you. I shall require at least three.”

  The others in the room broke into laughter.

  “Liam Foster,” Filos said, “please have a seat at my table. I have prepared a modest meal, and we have much to discuss.”

  “I should like to leave as soon as possible,” Liam said as he sat down. “I think it is essential to get as far away from Kraal as we can.”

  “How do you propose we do that?” Travis replied. “Every gate is locked and guarded. We are trapped inside the city.”

  “There is always a way,” Lyra insisted.

  “I may be able to help,” said Richard.

  “How so?” asked Liam.

  “I think I can gain access to transportation and a way out of the city. With your permission I will go now to make the necessary arrangements.” he answered.

  “Well, thank you, my friend,” Liam answered. “Please be on your way with our faith and gratitude.”

  Richard left without another word.

  “We cannot leave yet,” Rhemus told them, as the door closed behind Richard.

  “Why is that, Rhemus?” Liam asked the strange little boy. Lyra had explained to him the Mikraino’s bizarre history, and convinced him that they would be useful allies. As a young warrior, Liam never would have trusted in such people. As the host of a tavern, he had learned the value of disparate cultures and different perspectives. It was clear to Liam that these Mikraino indeed had a unique and valuable insight.

  “Someone is here in the city. Looking for you.”

  “No kidding, little fellow,” Travis said. “There are 4000 soldiers looking for Liam!”

  “No, just one person. I mean, I know about the soldiers, but there is someone else looking for him with a different purpose. I cannot be sure who it is, but I think he is important. We must find him. We don’t have much time. We cannot stay here. Liam is right. They will find us within hours. They have friends now, friends like me. I can divert them for a time, but not for very long.”

  “Do you know where he is?” Filos asked.

  “He is near. He is alone, but surrounded by many.”

  “What does that mean?” Travis asked.

  “It means one of us must search for him in the pubs,” answered Lyra. “I should go. I am the most skilled at disguise.”

  “I do not think you should go,” said Rhemus.

  “It is important you stay here with Liam tonight,” Kaila explained.

  No one questioned the Mikrainos’ instincts. Liam looked to Travis, and soon the others in the room were too, waitin
g for the answer to Liam’s unspoken request.

  Travis broke the uncomfortable silence. “I suppose I could do it.”

  “Thank you, Travis,” said Liam. “You are the logical choice. You should be able to blend in better than the rest of us.”

  “Right, I’m the inconspicuous one,” he replied, then became serious. “I understand. I’ll do it, but who am I looking for?”

  “You are looking for someone who is looking for us. He has travelled far, and he has been with Liam recently,” Rhemus answered.

  Travis nodded, looking incredulous.

  “He waits for us in that direction.” Kaila pointed.

  “That way, huh?” Travis pointed in the same direction. “You know, I could use a bit more to go on.”

  “If he has been with me recently he is most likely a Talon. He may have tattoos on his face,” Liam offered.

  “Ah, that I can spot,” Travis replied.

  “Aye. These young men call themselves the Talons of Freedom, and if it is one of them, then he is definitely our friend,” Liam seemed almost hesitant to continue. “They have a hierarchy among them, based on experience and expertise. The most accomplished of the men will have their entire faces covered, but some of the younger men have not yet earned that distinction. These will sometimes have a tattoo on their neck. If you suspect someone to be our man, you might find proof of who he is beneath his collar.”

  “All right. I’m on my way,” Travis said, nodding his head.

  “Travis?” Liam called after him.

  “Yes, Liam?”

  “This thing has become much bigger than us. You must not go against your will. You are free to leave us if that is your wish.”

  “I know, Liam. Don’t spoil it for Ishra’s sake. I’m supposed to look brave here.”

  Liam smiled a little, but pressed his point. “This is a serious matter, Travis.”

  “Liam, I understand. I am with you.”

  Liam nodded respectfully. “I hope we all live long enough for me to repay you for your loyalty.”

  “Big room, bath girls, I’m sorted,” Travis replied, and left with a wink.

  ~Æ~

  Arconus, Gastious, and Argus sat at the large oval table in the committee room.

  “There is now only one priority,” Arconus scowled.

  Argus answered, “I am in agreement, my liege.”

  “It seems your little friends have failed the King again, Argus,” Gastious challenged, “but the question remains as to whether they have failed you.”

  Argus directed his comments to the King, and ignored Gastious’s insinuation. “You handled the situation as well as anyone could have, sire. It would have been impossible to have executed him after surviving the gallows.”

  “Indeed,” Arconus glowered, “but how did he escape to begin with?”

  “It seems one of your palace men got a sudden sense of righteous fervour,” Argus offered.

  “How do you know this?” Gastious demanded. “You and your magic have been no help. Your games have led us to Foster time and again. Yet each confrontation leaves Foster stronger and insults the King. How do we know this is not all by your design, warlock?”

  “Enough, Gastious,” Arconus demanded. “Foster is still alive, and now more powerful than ever. We must focus on the task at hand. I need both of you to solve this problem. You may kill one another after Foster is dealt with.”

  “Very surprising about the Ban’hoen boys,” Argus thought aloud.

  “Rhedmond was a traitor,” Gastious growled, “and I saw his brother under the dais, helping them. I don’t trust any of the palace staff. We should execute the last of them.”

  “The last of them?” Argus asked. “Who is left?”

  “Only a few of the older staff,” the King replied with resignation. “The rest have disappeared, and they’ve left a hell of a mess behind. The kitchen, the laundry, the pantry, everything is in a shambles. I can’t even find a decent pen.”

  “They are all traitors,” Gastious bellowed.

  “Perhaps they only fled because they knew they would be suspected of complicity,” Argus offered.

  “Maybe they were all complicit,” Gastious grunted.

  “Are they going to the pits?” Argus asked.

  “No. I need someone to train the new staff. I may work them to death.”

  “They will poison you,” protested Gastious.

  “I don’t think so,” answered Argus.

  “You see? This warlock wants them to poison you,” Gastious spat. “He wants you near to danger. He encourages you to make the wrong decisions. Can’t you see it? He is a traitor. Let me kill him now!” He stood from his chair and pointed his sword arm at Argus.

  “Enough of this. It goes nowhere. Get out, both of you. We will resume this later when I have had time to think and when your heads have cooled. I need to know how to deal with Foster. We meet again this evening. Be prepared to discuss the business of the King, and to leave your grievances with one another outside my door.”

  XXXIV

  A difficult, but important concept to grasp is that a child is every bit as intelligent as an adult. The difference between them is merely that the adult has accumulated more knowledge and experience.

  – The Tomes of Æhlman

  The travelling was slow for the awkward threesome, but Kienten had made clear the necessity of the journey. Their new Mikraino companion, Rutain, had brought with him a message box. Maurious had never seen one, but his father had taught him about them. The box was not yet opened, the message not yet complete. Yet Maurious could still determine some of what the box contained. The Mikraino could tell much more, and from its contents they decided to go to the ruins of Sarhani.

  His new companions had no trouble following the winding pathway through the trees, but their steps were small, and they could not make the jumps necessary to take the shorter routes. Maurious’s long strides carried him along at twice their pace. The little ones did all they could to keep up, but Maurious was growing increasingly worried about losing time. He understood that his new friends could sense his every emotion, and he did not wish to unsettle them. His own empathic sensibilities revealed a great deal of discomfort in the Mikraino. He had learned much more about their history since Rutain had arrived. It seemed Rutain had a greater memory of events, but he could not speak. Kienten had learned much from his new friend as well, about Bandalanu, and the one who killed him. It was difficult for Maurious to fathom their situation, the terrible awkwardness of their rebirth, and of learning the world anew.

  “Four suns to the water and stone,” Kienten remarked, sensing Maurious’s impatience.

  “I’m sorry, Kienten. I cannot see what you see. I only see that the ruins of Sarhani are a four day journey for me under the best circumstances, and I fear we may be late for the destiny you predict.”

  Kienten said nothing, but appeared troubled.

  Rutain looked first at Maurious, then at Kienten, and carried on walking behind them. Maurious knew their conversation had upset him. Rutain still could not speak, or chose not to, but it seemed he could understand language perfectly well. His skills, however, were unquestioned. Maurious cursed himself for his impatience.

  Then Rutain suddenly split from the path and started along a tree branch that led over a thatch of poison Moorlack far, far down below. Even a brush on the skin from this nasty plant could produce a vicious eruption. The initial burn was excruciating, and a short time later the poison would start eating its way through the flesh. The results of the poisoning could range from three days of agony and a permanent scar; to two weeks of torture and a lost appendage or to death. A deep abrasion would deliver the undiluted poison straight to the bloodstream and literally dissolve the liver. Death would follow in a day if the victim were lucky. The unlucky would suffer for four or five days.

  “No!” Maurious cried. “Please, Rutain. That is a trap. You must follow me.”

  “Rutain sees the water and stone throu
gh the path,” Kienten explained nervously.

  Maurious heard Kienten’s words, but they were not processed by his mind, which was fully focused on Rutain as he traversed the branch. Maurious saw the trap clearly. It looked like a clear path across to the next tree, but the branch was cracked and would break under the weight of a full grown man. The energy of the tree had been tampered with, fixing the trap in place for centuries. Maurious had spent weeks trying to undo the tampering with no success. Only an expert in the ways of the swamp could spot such a trap, and now little Rutain was heading straight for it.

  “Rutain, stop!”

  Maurious tried to chase after Rutain, to save him from a long fall and a terrible, painful death in the poison Moorlack, but now the advantage of speed was to the smaller man. Maurious could not squeeze through the foliage as fast as Rutain. The little man did not react as the dried and broken branch began to snap, and then crack.

  “Rutain, turn around and jump to me,” Maurious pleaded, but Rutain did not move. It was as if he intended to break the branch and fall to his death.

  Maurious tried to move along to reach Rutain before the branch fell. Rutain finally turned to face Maurious. Without expression, he took a step further out of reach. Now Maurious would have to climb onto the already cracking limb to reach him, ensuring they both would fall. Rutain clung to some smaller branches around him with both hands for support and pushed his legs up and down, hastening the cracking of the limb beneath him. He pushed down with his little legs towards the swamp below, and lifted them again as he rode the branch up with the next rise, mounting higher with each motion, accelerating the breakage, and intensifying the cracking sounds at the breaking point, near Maurious’s hands.

  Maurious shook his head helplessly. Rutain swung higher, and sank lower with each motion until the branch broke free. Rutain fell with it. The branch bounced around in the thick foliage, slowing his fall. Maurious came to the gruesome conclusion that he would likely survive the drop, but he would be injured before finally landing in the poison Moorlack. Maurious watched helplessly as the branch and his new friend tumbled downward, and finally, suddenly, limb and rider came to a crashing halt, some distance below, but still far above the swamp floor and the poison Moorlack.