A Place Among the Fallen [Book One of The Omaran Saga]

by Adrian Cole

  'Well, he does not seem unduly disturbed by the nearness of the Emperor's men. Yet he is a little edgy. Do you not sense that?’

  Korbillian studied her briefly. She was more perceptive than he had first assumed. ‘You are more alert than I am. I have perhaps taken too much for granted. Even so, I doubt that the Emperor's men would be interested in him. I also doubt that they know he is here.’

  'They must know you both landed on this coast.’

  'Yes, but Kirrikree told us these men have been here for a long time. Since before I found my way to Goldenisle. Still, what are your thoughts on Guile?’

  'I am not sure that I trust him,’ she said simply.

  'Yet you trust me.’ It was spoken as a gentle challenge.

  She averted her eyes from his gaze. ‘Yes.’

  'I will be wary. But I must tell you that I do not think Guile an enemy. He is ambitious, I am aware of that, although he does not know it. He is here with me because he seeks a share in my power. He would never admit such a thing. But he would love nothing more than to raise himself—”

  'To what?’ she said quickly. ‘What he once was?’

  Korbillian shrugged as if it didn't matter. ‘Is it important? Most men aspire to power of one kind or another.’

  'I should like to know his goal,’ she said ‘I think it would surprise us all.’ She went to join the others at the fire, and Korbillian thought long and hard on her words.

  They ate heartily, all of them, glad of the meat that Kirrikree had provided, and as Sisipher was turning to thank the resting owl, it swooped up into the air like a white cloud.

  'Something's frightened him!’ she said, and at once they were all on their feet. Wolgren and Guile had their weapons ready, and reluctantly Sisipher drew her own heavy blade, though she stood close beside Korbillian. They listened as Kirrikree's wing-beats disappeared, and the evening closed in, hinting at another storm. Then, like distant thunder, a drumming of hooves approached.

  'Two riders,’ Sisipher told them, relaying word from Kirrikree as he glided ghost-like between the great conifers. ‘They don't know we are here. They are in flight.’

  'What pursues them?’ asked Korbillian.

  'Kirrikree cannot tell. But both men are wounded. What shall we do?’ They turned to Korbillian, all dwarfed by the trees, with the mist filtering down from the mountains beyond, and with the gloom came the feeling of isolation and exposure.

  'Hide yourselves. I will speak to them.’

  'Are they Empire men?’ asked Guile anxiously.

  Sisipher shook her head. ‘No. King Strangarth's.’

  Quickly they spread out, leaving Korbillian alone by the fire. Guile knelt beside Sisipher in the bracken. ‘If they're wounded, they won't be seeking a fight.’

  'And if they do?’ she teased him, herself unafraid.

  'Will you use that blade?’ He chuckled, as if the weapon was ridiculous.

  She grinned. ‘I can hardly lift it.’

  'Korbillian likely won't want help.’ Yet as he said it, he looked no less anxious.

  Then the riders were upon them and the ground shook to the beat of the hooves. Through the trees they burst, these riders, and as they saw Korbillian like a spectre in the mist, they reared up. Korbillian showed no fear. After a moment, when the two men had studied him, they dismounted, released their steeds, and came to the fire. His great size made them wary.

  'Who are you?’ one of the men said gruffly. They wore leather harness and light brown tunics, both smeared with mud and sweat. ‘And what are you about in this place?’

  'An Empire spy?’ spat the other, whose mind was already made up that he faced an enemy. There was blood on the loose armour of both of them. They were dark haired and bearded, close to exhaustion, and looked like men used to being in the saddle, and at war.

  'I am not an enemy,’ said Korbillian.

  They could see he had no weapons, but they studied him as though they considered him dangerous. Both had swords, but as yet had not pulled them from their scabbards.

  'Don't trust him,’ snapped the second of the men, but as he stepped forward, he stumbled, then collapsed. His companion's hand went straight to his sword hilt and he watched Korbillian even more intently.

  'He needs attention,’ said Korbillian.

  At that moment Kirrikree flew down and sat on a branch high above the two warriors. When the standing man saw him, his face paled. ‘Who are you?’ he said again, and now his sword hissed free.

  'A traveller. I wish to pass through your lands. I have no interest in your wars.’

  'Wars?’ The man looked stung.

  'I gather you fight the men of Quanar Remoon.’

  'They trespass.’

  A groan from the fallen man halted the conversation and Korbillian motioned to him. ‘You'd better help him. Do you need food?’

  The man nodded, dropping on one knee to his companion. Korbillian handed him a flask. ‘Are you pursued?’

  'We've lost the bastards.’

  'Then you are safe.’

  The man attended to his companion, whose wounds were not good, but he would live. When he had taken a drink he muttered something and allowed the other to bathe his wounds. The men gave their names as Ilassa and Taroc, the latter the fallen one.

  'I will call my companions,’ Korbillian told them. ‘Treat none of us as your enemies.’ Korbillian saw their immediate doubt, as though they felt trapped, but even so he waved the others to him. Wolgren emerged first, his knife in evidence, and Sisipher came to the fire, her own weapon put away. Lastly came Guile, who yet hung back. Korbillian introduced them.

  Ilassa managed a grin. ‘A boy, a girl and a scarecrow. Well, you hardly seem like a war party. Our thanks for the food and drink.’ He had eaten ravenously. ‘You must excuse our rough manner. This is no place to expect anything but treachery.’

  'We intend none. But perhaps you can help us?’ said Korbillian.

  'Where are you going?’ said Taroc, recovering his strength gradually, but in no condition to move far. He was glad of the fire and shifted closer to it.

  'To the east,’ said Korbillian.

  'On whose business?’ cut in Ilassa.

  'My own.’

  'But who do you serve?’

  Korbillian smiled patiently. ‘I will explain.’

  Guile interrupted with a rude cough. He pushed forward. ‘Before you do, I think we should hear something of events hereabouts. Who was chasing you?’

  Ilassa and Taroc exchanged glances, but Taroc nodded for his companion to speak. ‘Along our borders there has been movement by many troops, far to the south. And yet within the last few days, these invaders have been seeping north. There have been skirmishes.’

  'The Emperor's men?’ said Guile.

  'Aye,’ growled Taroc. ‘So far the scum have not made their intentions clear. They've been down in the delta lands for a year or more. In the past they've done some foraging, but we've sent them packing. What do you know of them?’

  Guile flashed a warning look to Korbillian that clearly said, ‘Leave this to me.’ He turned back to the warriors. ‘Only what we have heard on our journey. That they landed near the Three Rivers. Are they in great force?’

  'So word has it. Up until now they have not shown much interest in Strangarth's lands. They have concentrated on the lands to be found up the rivers, to the east.’

  'The east,’ said Korbillian. ‘Why should they go there? Do they expect to find a land rich in precious metals or treasures of some kind?’

  Ilassa shook his head. ‘Far from it. The land there grows more barren as it goes eastward. Beyond are the even stranger deserts of the Silences. We hear tales of evil things. Perhaps the men of Empire make war upon them.’

  'But you clashed with them today,’ said Guile. ‘Nearby.’

  Ilassa nodded. ‘Aye. A large party of them. There were a score of us. We thought there were no more of them at first and so we challenged them. They declared themselves to mean no
harm. On an exercise, they said. Our leader warned them they were in Strangarth's lands, but they insisted they meant no harm. They claimed no quarrel.’

  'You speak of evil things in the east,’ said Korbillian. ‘Can you say more?’

  Taroc had dropped into sleep, curled by the fire. Ilassa seemed weary. He sat back, having accepted that these odd travellers would not harm him. ‘Most of what I know is talk. For years now there have been rumours of strange events in the east. Even stranger creatures found in the forests. Refugees crossing the rivers have said their men and women have died of unknown illnesses, or have just disappeared. The earth moves, some have said. And recently, even in these woods, there have been sightings of creatures more beast than man. The skies, too, are sometimes filled with huge flocks of birds, fleeing the east. We thought the men of Empire were here to investigate.’

  'And what of your fight?’ said Guile.

  'No quarrel, they said! That was false. They began it, and the battle was cruel, and many men died. A score of them, did I say? Well, there were a hundred more beyond them. They cut us down like grass blades. Taroc and I fled, and must be the only men to have survived.’

  'And the Empire men?’ persisted Guile.

  'I doubt that they will seek us now. They have had their exercise and a pox on them for it!’

  Korbillian's frown was deeper than Guile's. Sisipher, too, wondered at the bizarre tale. She sought Kirrikree and at once his thoughts reached her. ‘The men they fought have gone,’ he told her. ‘North, away from us. We are not in danger of being found. But your master should know—there are other dangers abroad. Be wary.’

  Ilassa had been examining Taroc, who emitted a groan. ‘This is worse than I thought,’ said Ilassa. ‘The wounds are deep.’

  Korbillian knelt down and studied the sleeping man, though he was careful not to touch him with his gloved hands. ‘He may yet be saved. Quickly! Clear a place. Expose the naked earth.’

  Ilassa stared at him, but anxiety for his friend prompted him to obey. Wolgren was beside him at once, helping to drag away the layers of needles and fallen twigs. They soon had a place cleared and they turned to Korbillian. Sisipher and Guile watched in amazement.

  'Loosen the soil,’ said Korbillian.

  Ilassa hesitated. ‘He is not yet ready for burial.’

  'He has power,’ said Guile, nodding toward Korbillian. ‘Let him use it.’ Wolgren was nodding, eager to see what would happen. Ilassa thought better of arguing and used the point of his sword to turn the earth. Wolgren dug with his knife. The work was easy.

  'That will suffice. Now place your friend across the soil.’

  They did it without further question and Wolgren helped Ilassa to position Taroc as asked. The youth's absolute commitment won over Ilassa's doubts. Korbillian next instructed them to heap the earth up against Taroc's sides, and they made a careful wall, leaving his face, chest and upper legs exposed. Korbillian muttered something in the darkness. Only the firelight lit the watching faces now.

  'He will take strength from the pure earth of Omara,’ promised Korbillian.

  Ilassa remained beside his friend, himself now exhausted. He allowed Sisipher to bathe the worst of his wounds and bind them, but insisted that the most he needed now was rest. ‘You say you are bound for the east?’ he quietly asked Korbillian. ‘You have been merciful to Taroc, and myself and I should have no reason to distrust you, but the east? What do you seek there?’

  'The source of the evil that creeps into this land.’

  Ilassa listened as Korbillian spoke of the city and of the implications of what was beneath it, and although the others already knew the tale, they shuddered in the firelight. Sisipher could feel Kirrikree's fear as he listened from his invisible perch.

  'And you are alone?’ Ilassa said in amazement. ‘Against this evil, you are no more than four?’

  'I alert whoever I can.’

  'Then the troops of the distant Emperor waste their time on us. Perhaps my own king, Strangarth, should be thinking of making himself their ally, and warring on this terror from the east. Though he is not a man who would take kindly to such a suggestion.’

  Korbillian turned to Guile, thinking of Sisipher's words. ‘What do you make of Quanar's activities here?’

  'It surprises me that his men have been here for so long.’

  'Perhaps,’ suggested Sisipher, ‘Quanar does not know his men are here at all.’

  'Yes, very likely you are right,’ Guile agreed from his place in the shadows.

  Korbillian studied the crackling fire. ‘Why should his troops be so far north?’ He turned deliberately to Sisipher. ‘Kirrikree told you he thought they searched for something. What?’

  His question took her by surprise, as she had thought he had wanted to keep this a secret from Guile. She thought Kirrikree asleep, but it was as though he still listened. He was quick to come to her help. ‘I speak of rumours and of things half heard by those who traverse the skies of Omara,’ he told her. ‘But I would suggest that the real goal of the men of the Emperor is power.’

  'Power!’ gasped Sisipher aloud.

  Korbillian scowled at her. ‘What does he say?’

  She told him and he looked pained. ‘So that is it: the power in the east. Already they were aware of it before I set foot in the Chain. Yet Quanar Remoon was oblivious in his madness.’

  'Others were not,’ said Sisipher.

  'If these Empire men seek to use the power in the east to their own ends,’ said Korbillian, ‘they are already doomed.’

  Ilassa scowled at the exchange. ‘You have been to the Chain of Goldenisle?’ he said with evident suspicion.

  'Have no fear,’ said Guile. ‘We are no allies to the Emperor.’

  Wolgren leapt up, not in reaction to the conversation, but to something else. He listened to the woods, but apart from the slowly building wind, the trees were quiet.

  'Kirrikree hears nothing,’ Sisipher told him.

  'No, not the sky,’ said the youth. He knelt down, then lay flat, ear to the ground, but he got up again. ‘It's gone.’

  'What was it?’ said Guile, who seemed more alert than anyone else.

  'Like a distant heartbeat,’ said Wolgren. ‘Horses perhaps.’

  Sisipher looked out to where Ilassa and Taroc's horses must be and though she could not see them, she sensed them. They were relaxed, no doubt used to a rough life.

  Korbillian looked once at Taroc, but seemed to dismiss something. Later he was to have cause to remember Wolgren's words. ‘In the morning,’ he said, ‘we will travel on. What will you do?’ he asked Ilassa.

  'I must report to my king.’

  'Will you mention us?’

  'Would you wish it otherwise?’ Ilassa at least seemed prepared to give them a choice.

  'No,’ said Korbillian. ‘Tell him that I am here to raise men against the east. I need help. I would be happier if you came with us.’

  Ilassa shook his head. ‘I have to think of Taroc. I must get him back to his home. He has a family.’

  'By morning he will have recovered.’

  'You seem very sure of that.’

  'If it is so,’ said Korbillian, ‘will you both come with us?’

  'To what end?’

  'You'll probably find out more about what the Empire men are doing here,’ suggested Sisipher.

  'Even so, I have no desire to ride to the east.’

  'Would Strangarth not listen to reason? Would he send men?’ said Korbillian. ‘I will come with you to him if you think he would.’

  'To stand against the things we hear of in the east?’ Ilassa scoffed. ‘I think not.’

  'Then help secure us a safe passage to your borders.’

  Ilassa grinned. ‘I will sleep on it.’ It was not long afterwards that he did sleep, curled up beside his wounded companion, who already looked ominously as though he was secure in his grave.

  Guile shook his head, speaking softly to Wolgren a little later. ‘They confuse me. Why di
d they come this way? Behind us are the mountains. Had they been riding back to their king, they would not have come this way. Who's to say they are not freebooters?’

  Wolgren frowned. He had come to like Guile, especially as he often seemed to ask his advice instead of dismissing him as a child, but he was still unsure of himself. ‘They mean us no harm, I think.’

  “I wish I could indulge myself in your confidence. Hopefully they will go their own way. If not, watch them, Wolgren. Keep your knife ready. Did you not see how that Ilassa studied Sisipher's fair face?’ Guile saw his remark go home and quietly gloated as the boy's hand tightened on the hilt of his blade.

  The wind strengthened and the party huddled about the fire, snatching at sleep. From time to time during the night, Wolgren again thought he heard the distant boom, like a heartbeat, possibly below ground, but apart from the wind, the only other sound was the murmur and groan of the man Taroc. Wolgren dismissed as part of a dream the notion that the sound of the distant boom coincided with the groans of the wounded man.

  As dawn broke they ate sparingly. Ilassa discovered a few meagre supplies in his saddlebags and retrieved them from the patient horses. Taroc came to, and seemed stronger, as Korbillian had said he would. He sat up as Wolgren scooped the earth away from him. While Taroc gazed dazedly about, Ilassa handed him a flask.

  'Stir yourself, Taroc. Meet your new companions. We plot an easterly course.’

  Korbillian frowned. This was not what he had expected. ‘You go with us?’

  'Aye, I've thought hard on it. We'll come so far. Our border is the river Swiftwater. As it leaves our lands, it enters a gorge, and to cross over to the east, you must use the Swiftwater Bridge. Beyond that we will not go, and if you are wise, you will also refrain.’

  10

  SWIFTWATER BRIDGE

  Wargallow led his Deliverers out of the mountains and down into the upper reaches of the pine forests that stretched for hundreds of miles along the eastern slopes of the range. His men were tired and dispirited, but they did not complain to him. They had lost their horses and were not sure of their ground; the trail of their enemies was far away. After the owls had harried them off their course, the storm had come, forcing them to shelter. Wargallow had wanted to hurry on, but it had been impossible. Something about the storm from the east disturbed him deeply. There was a concentrated viciousness about it, almost akin to hate. When at last it had ceased and they were able to come out into daylight, the owls had gone.