“Lieutenant!” Aaron spoke over the clamorous noise in the room.
Morryn glanced back, eyes widened at the sight of Aaron. He jumped to his feet and barked a command to the entire room: “Attention!” In unison the men in the room stood on their feet. Even in the casual atmosphere of the barracks’ common room, these were disciplined soldiers. Aaron appreciated that.
The room fell silent as the soldiers waited to hear from the captain. “I just wanted to congratulate you, men, on a task well done.” Aaron tried to sound encouraging, but his words came from a heart plagued with questions and doubts. For his men, though, the captain conveyed nothing but confidence. “Be at ease, men. Enjoy the night, and for those who are in my detail, be ready to leave two hours after daybreak.” The men shouted a cheer and lifted their drinks to offer a toast to the captain; then turned their attentions back to their own tables.
Aaron took a seat next to Morryn, and the two men left the table without a word. He looked at Morryn and wondered if his lieutenant had the ability to command the men. The lieutenant presented a formidable figure: tall, a full three inches taller than himself, with broad shoulders and muscular arms. Even seated, the strong, stern man held an aura of intimidation. Morryn’s face displayed the scars of combat. He bore a scowl, and no smile ever cracked his chiseled features. His short brown hair stood like bristles on his head and the gaze from his steel blue eyes plunged like daggers into those unfortunate enough to catch his attention. Even Aaron, for all his experience, had never encountered such a soldier.
“Lieutenant,” Aaron began, “I want you to take command of the men. In the morning you will lead them back to the capital. We’ve spent enough time away from home. You can ride to the city of Hamilton and…”
“With all due respect, Captain,” Morryn interrupted, his baritone voice echoed around the room. “I know the way home. Won’t you be returning with us?”
“I have business here, so you must lead the men. I will also have a message for you to give to the emperor,” Aaron said.
“What is so important that you must stay behind?”
“That, Lieutenant, is not your concern. I’ll see you and the men off after breakfast. Don’t look so concerned, I’ll be back in the capital before you even miss me.” The levity didn’t seem to affect the lieutenant one bit; Morryn’s scowl never wavered. Aaron remained convinced that Morryn was the most emotionless man he had ever met.
“If those are your orders, sir, I will follow them.”
The captain stood to leave, and Morryn stood as well. “Enjoy a good night’s rest, Lieutenant. I’ll see you in the morning.” Aaron wondered if Morryn enjoyed anything—even rest. He left the table while the crowd of men continued with their conversations, intermittent laughter erupting from various tables. Aaron turned his attention to the governor. He doubted the meeting would go as well.
Aaron stepped from the barracks into the chill night air. The Shadow Mountains towered in the distance; their heavy snows glistened in the rich moonlight but only served to remind him of the night’s activity. The same two young men guarded the door and snapped to attention when they recognized him. Aaron stopped on the steps of the longhouse and gazed out over the quaint alpine community.
North Village lay quiet and most of the lights in the windows no longer flickered in the dark, cold night. The streets became the haunt of the local guard. A three-man patrol, dressed in brown, plain uniforms, walked along the main street, casually watching for any sign of trouble. Aaron fixed his gaze up the hill toward the governor’s house. Still loath that he must report to some self-indulgent politician.
The lights of the governor’s house burned bright and smoke issued from the chimney. It appeared warm and inviting, but Aaron always approached politicians with caution. The majority of local magistrates he had encountered claimed some sort of distant relationship with the emperor. Aaron found them just too eager for recognition. He breathed deep and bolstered himself to do his duty—no matter how distasteful.
“Goodnight, sir,” said the guard.
Aaron startled and remembered that the two soldiers stood next to him. “Oh, yes, goodnight men.” Aaron said then stepped out of the doorway.
Just beyond the barracks, a long, steep walk led to the governor’s home. Aaron hoisted his cloak upon his shoulders, checked his appearance, and then began the long climb up the hill. Halfway up, a high stone wall encircled the hill like a crown. Aaron’s path took him to a narrow break in the wall that permitted access to the governor’s mansion. To the right of the break stood a small, round guard tower from which voices echoed through the chill air. Through a window, Aaron noticed the figures of two men inside, unmoved at his approach.
“Maybe I’ll just sneak past,” Aaron muttered, frustrated by the inept soldiers. He just wanted to meet with the governor and finally be done with his day. To announce his arrival he kicked some rocks and made enough noise for the soldiers to hear him. He chuckled when he heard the clatter of gear and sound of anxious voices from the small tower.
The two soldiers exited their shelter, torches in hand, and stumbled through the snow before they took vigil in the middle of the path.
“Halt! Who goes there?” The guard on the left, a stalwart man, shorter than Aaron but with a broad chest and a thick, muscular build, spoke with authority and brandished his flat-bladed spear that glinted in the moonlight as the guard trembled in the cold.
“I am Aaron, captain of the Royal Guard! Let me pass, I have business with your governor. Stand aside!” Aaron, who also shivered beneath his cloak, had no patience for this show of bravado after such incompetence. While the man on the right jumped at Aaron’s words, ready to let him pass, the man on the left stood his ground, his spear leveled at Aaron’s chest.
“We’ll see,” said the soldier. “His lordship will first know of your arrival. Come forward and step into the light!” The burly guard leaned over and whispered to his companion then motioned toward the house. The second man ran up the hill and disappeared into the darkness as Aaron stepped into the light of the torch.
“As you can see,” he said, pointing to the gold emblem of the Royal Guard emblazoned upon his cloak, “I am who I claim to be. My attire is that of a soldier of the Royal Guard and my insignia proclaims my rank. Or do you doubt your eyes?”
“A beggar may stand and proclaim himself a king—and have fixed himself with fancier clothes than you. You may be who you claim, and if you are then you’ll understand me—but if you’re not…” He let his words trail off, but the message was clear as he brandished his spear.
“I get the point,” Aaron said. “Can we at least wait in the tower? This night will not get any warmer.”
“After you.” The guard motioned for Aaron to proceed then followed close behind as they entered into the tower.
The scent of boiled beef permeated the air. A fire crackled and radiated its pleasant warmth from a hearth just left of the tower’s entrance. Over the fire, precariously perched on a small tripod, an iron pot hissed. Though cramped, the small tower provided adequate shelter from the frigid winter that lingered beyond the stone walls. A small table with two chairs placed beside the window provided a perfect view of the entire hillside. However, a small handful of dice, two cups, and a decanter decorated the table.
Aaron stood near the door and waited as the small torch danced with the motion of the skinny guard. I hope this doesn’t take too long. The torchlight stilled, then, moments later, it was on the move again. The guard, a dark spot against the white snow, slipped and stumbled his way down the hill.
The thin sentry rushed into the small tower. Despite the cold, bitter air, beads of sweat glistened on his forehead and steam rose from his cloak. The guard panted as he spoke, “Captain, the governor has verified your claim.”
“Ah… so I am who I claim to be. That’s good to know,” Aaron said.
“You are commanded to come with me and report to the governor.”
“Yes, let’
s go up this hill and meet with your governor.” Aaron rolled his eyes as they exited the guard tower.
The thin man held up the torch as he and Aaron began the cold climb up the hill, leaving the stouter guardsman to stand watch. The way proved steep, steeper than Aaron first believed. He sensed the weight of the day’s events as he willed his exhausted legs to continue up the path while all around him, eerie shadows played in the darkness. Aaron thought he saw movement from the corner of his eye and turned to look—nothing, just more shadows cast by the torchlight.
The hair on the back of his neck bristled as he listened for any activity in the brush just beyond the reach of the light. The sense of being watched unnerved him, and he tried to dismiss the idea as simple exhaustion. He glanced toward the shadows again and hoped to see some animal, nothing. You’ve had a busy day and exhaustion’s got the best of you. Nonetheless, he straightened his cloak and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
The governor’s mansion boasted an elegance Aaron didn’t expect. Four white pillars supported a second story balcony and large bay windows shone with the amber glow of oil lamps. At the entrance, on either side of the door, two great statues stood in silent vigil. One looked to be a lion, with powerful jaws and emerald eyes and the other a creature unlike any living thing Aaron had ever seen. It appeared to be a mythical gargoyle, with long talons on its hands and horns protruding from its forehead and a snarl on its face. Two torches, mounted in gold sconces, illuminated the doorway but did nothing to alleviate the uneasiness Aaron felt. At the main entrance of the house were two large mahogany doors with brass rings clutched in the jaw of a lion’s head. Both lions also cast ominous gazes at the captain, as if their jeweled, orange eyes scrutinized him to the soul. The carved relief of violent battles, etched upon the massive doors, only added to Aaron’s apprehension.
The captain reached for the brass ring and struck it against the door. A hollow echo resounded within the house. Moments later a servant opened the door. “Ah, you must be the captain from the Royal Guard,” he said in a low, graveled voice.
“Yes, I must be.” Aaron said with dispassion.
The servant, a short, older man with the shape of a wine cask, possessed a firm countenance. His face was etched with the lines of past troubles. Old scars and a perpetual scowl gave him a churlish, fatigued appearance. A bushy moustache covered his upper lip and thin strands of grey hair circled his balding head.
“Come in, sir, and enjoy the hospitality of our fine governor.” The servant motioned for Aaron to follow.
The captain turned to dismiss the guard and found his escort had already started back down the hill. As Aaron entered the mansion, he again thought he saw a shadow pass, this time overhead. He dismissed the sight as a trick of the moonlight but his wariness remained.
The mansion was grand to the point of extravagance. To Aaron’s left, a spiral staircase wound its way up to the second floor. All around him candelabras, gold and ornate, provided ample illumination for the house. A door to his right stood open and revealed a library with shelves of books lining the walls. And directly in the center of the room, suspended from the ceiling upon a thick gold chain, hung a crystal chandelier. A large, round table with several chairs rested underneath. A balcony looked down upon the foyer, and upon which stood a man—tall with a pale complexion, short dark hair and long, bony fingers.
“I am the governor of this region,” he said, brimming with self-importance, “and you must be the captain of the Royal Guard. Take a seat at the table and we will talk.” His authoritative tone punctuated every word.
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate your hospitality at this late hour. I apologize for the delay.” Aaron’s perfunctory and disciplined manner gave no hint to his apathy. He took a seat at the table.
“Captain,” said the governor as he descended the stairs, “I have much to tell you, and I expect you to heed my instructions. As governor, I have authority to retain you for a mission of utmost importance.” He sat at the head of the table and continued. “There is reason to believe that a small group of disloyal rebels exist beyond the borders of Celedon. It is suspected that this man whom you destroyed wanted to make his way back to these rebels and deliver the book he stole. First, you will find the book and bring it to me.”
“But that man was destroyed and whatever he carried must have been burned up in the fire. There’s no way that the book survived.”
“There can be no speculation!” the governor shouted. With a deep breath, he regained his composure. “Bring me the book.” The governor’s face took on a cruel expression as he gave Aaron his orders. “I am aware that you plan to take some time away from your duties. That is most inadvisable. Your oath and your obligation to Celedon are far greater than personal needs.” The governor pierced Aaron with his gaze. “However,” he continued, “I can see that your long journey and experience on the mountain have left you weary. Be here tomorrow at dawn for further instructions. You can select one other to accompany you, but plan on secrecy.”
The governor paused. He cocked his head as if he heard some distant noise then returned his attention to Aaron. “Now, captain, you are dismissed.” With that, the governor stood and left the table. He ascended the stairs and disappeared into the shadows of the hall above.
The portly servant returned to his side. “It’s time to go, captain,” he said as he motioned toward the exit. Aaron followed him across the room to the large, ornate doors. Without even an obligatory farewell, Aaron left the mansion.
At the foot of the stairs the same young guard waited for him. With torch in hand, he motioned for Aaron to follow him. “Well, sir,” said the guard, “quite a man, our governor.”
“Yes, quite a man,” Aaron echoed. He followed the guard to the barracks, found his room and fell into bed, exhausted.
Shadows: Book of Aleth Part One
2
A Thief in the Night
In a snow-covered glade, a monstrous creature stood over the fractured body of a man. The beast stood almost ten feet tall, skin the color of charcoal and leathery wings folded upon its back. Through the protective cover of the forest undergrowth Aaron watched in horror—helpless, and he shivered more from panic than from crawling upon the frozen ground. The monster drew to its full height and roared in triumph over the fallen man, malice burned in its grizzly face.
The creature gripped the limp body with its massive claws. Blood flowed from the dead man and pooled in the snow beneath him. Fearful of even the slightest crackle from a winter leaf, Aaron moved a small branch to gain a better view and continue to watch. Struck with horror, he noticed the gold insignia on the dead man’s cloak—a soldier of the Royal Guard. Slaughtered by a beast escaped from a nightmare. He never imagined a creature so malevolent, so evil.
Aaron lay motionless on the frozen ground and watched the daemon. The creature’s eyes sat under heavy, dark brows and blazed with red fire, as if a furnace burned inside the hideous beast. The creature turned and fixed its eyes where he hid. The forest undergrowth provided no protection against the monster’s gaze. Aaron feared that it felt his presence!
It moved toward Aaron with slow, deliberate steps. A low guttural growl rumbled from its throat. He had to decide—fight or flee, but he knew he had no chance to outrun such a monstrous creature. With iron determination, the captain gripped the leather-wrapped hilt of his sword. Slowly and quietly, he unsheathed the cold steel blade. Strike first, he thought, and strike hard.
The daemon drew nearer and steam rose from its footprints, as if a hot iron pressed the snow. Whether from the cold or some smoldering fire inside the beast, its breath billowed with heat. The creature neared Aaron’s position. He rejected the cold chill of fear that tried to steal his courage. He must strike first and catch the monster off guard. Sword in hand, he…
…woke, trembling and drenched with sweat. His dark, cold room only heightened the anxiety of his dreadful nightmare, even as he pulled the wool blanket tighter around his ne
ck. A faint glow radiated from under the door and cast a pale light upon the wooden floor when a shadow crossed the light. His dream still fresh in his mind, Aaron almost jumped out of bed when someone pounded on the door.
“Captain!” a voice called from the corridor. Aaron calmed his nerves and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
Again someone knocked. “Captain! Captain, are you awake?” The unfamiliar voiced called into the room.
“Yes, yes, just a moment,” Aaron replied. What a dream. He remembered the terrible images that had plagued his sleep. A cold sweat hung upon his skin like a mantle and intensified the frigid atmosphere of the room. Aaron just wanted to huddle deeper under the blankets.
Reluctant, he stood upon the cold wood floor and shuffled to the door. He glanced back at the frosted window—the world remained shrouded in darkness. Aaron hoped the person at the door was prepared for a tirade. With the blanket wrapped around him, he unbolted and opened the door. Light from the hall burst into his room like a flood, and Aaron shielded his eyes from the intense brightness. He squinted in a vain effort to relieve his vision and looked at the young soldier who had disturbed his sleep.
“Yes,” he said through a prodigious yawn. “What is it?”
The young soldier at the door wore the simple brown uniform of the local guard. A light dusting of snow covered the young guard’s hair and cloak. “Sir,” said the man, “I am sorry, but it is near daybreak, and I had orders to wake you.”
“Yes, soldier, I understand.” The tone of Aaron’s voice amplified his displeasure. “I’ll be along in a moment.”
“Y-yes sir.” The man stammered. “I hope you don’t mind, but I have set orders for your breakfast. It waits for you in the common room. Also, I was told to wake another of your guardsman. Who do you want me to get, sir?”
Shadows Page 3