Jalek often, almost compulsively, measured himself against his older brother, the man who had raised him after the death of their father. He had been a harsh surrogate parent to be sure, liberally dispensing corporal punishment for Jalek’s misdeeds, but this had only been because his older brother had wanted him to reach his full potential. Those brutal lessons in discipline had served him in advancing far in the army. For after a short military tenure, Jalek had become a high ranking commander, an attaché to Chief General Salache himself, both unusual attainments. Still, he often wondered if that had been enough for his austere brother who himself had accomplished even greater things, such as rising to become one of the empire’s leading generals. Was he disappointed that Jalek had not gone as far? Now was not the time for musings. He imagined the words in Azanoth’s disapproving tone. Not while you’re deep in enemy territory on a mission entrusted to you by General Salache himself.
Jalek respected and admired the empire’s chief general, but not because of his rank or famed warrior’s prowess, a level of skill that was said to be unmatched. No, Jalek respected Hakell Salache for his piety. The man possessed wealth and renown having at one time been second in authority only to the emperor himself, yet he still managed to live a life as a devout disciple of YaJiann, even recognized among the Aelis as a lay-cleric. So it was with resoluteness that Jalek had accepted Salache’s orders to lead two of Lorta’s Imperial Guards to find the alleged deserters, Sen and Kiska. The assignment had come as much as a surprise to Jalek as it was a breach of protocol, for the Imperial Army seldom mixed with, let alone commanded, Lorta’s personal protectors and unofficial assassins. Jalek knew, however, from the concern in Salache’s voice that there was more to his mission than simply soothing Lorta’s indignity. Obviously, the general did not believe the situation was a simple case of desertion.
The lean, bald, dark-skinned Jalek climbed down from the tree upon which he had perched in order to watch Hirath’s east road. One member of the Imperial Guard, Sen he had guessed from Malik’s description of the man’s height, had entered here. Of that he was certain. Yet, why flee further into Amigus territory instead of deserting back to Aukasia? What was going on? Was Sen a traitor working for the enemy? Why else would he openly walk straight into an Amigus city? Aukasian natives living in Amigus territory were not unheard of, but it certainly was rare especially during wartime. Sen wouldn’t be able to mingle with the people without being detained and questioned by the authorities unless he was a traitor. No member of the Imperial Guard had ever betrayed the Empire, not since their formation six hundred years ago. And that explanation, as far fetched as Jalek thought it, didn’t explain where Kiska had disappeared to. Reports said that he was last seen informing Leadren’s chief steward that the execution of his enemies had been successfully carried out. But would that Amigus servant really know Kiska from any other member of the Imperial Guard? Jalek shook his head. No, not if he was wearing their armor.
He stared for a long moment in the direction the boy had gone. He had been so close to capturing him, for he had seemed intent on fleeing the city. Something had turned him back, though. Madness, he thought again, unpredictable madness. He felt a pang of sympathy for the boy and was almost glad he had not been able to get close enough to seize him. He was probably forced to help Sen and knows nothing of his plans.
Jalek glanced at his bronze timepiece. He would need to find Iok and Nadal. He cringed at thinking of those two monsters, members of Lorta’s Imperial Guard, men whose fighting skill was only exceeded by their lust for pleasure. They were good at killing and they knew it, they loved it. They would’ve enjoyed torturing that Amigus boy for information even long after they were sure he knew nothing, and Jalek wasn’t sure he would be able to stop them. Iok and Nadal made it very clear that they did not accept his authority over them by their deliberate refusal to address him by his rank or surname.
Jalek was surprised at catching himself offering a prayer to YaJiann that he wouldn’t see the boy again, that neither he nor his companions would have another opportunity to capture him. He hesitated a moment and then finished the prayer, “Salar alall ista YaJiann,” a benediction from the ancient language that translated into “The will of the King of Heaven be done,” the only words of the dead tongue he knew. He dutifully sealed his prayer with the Aelic gesture of lightly touching his lips followed by his heart. He then hastily redrew his hood, uprooted his spear from the ground, and retreated back into a thicket of trees where he pursued a circuitous course toward the west end of the city.
Nearly two hours passed as Jalek wound his way northwest through the small forest of maples that bearded Hirath’s southern perimeter. As much as he tried, he couldn’t get the thought of Malik out of his mind which fanned his smoldering resentment of Aukasia’s new young emperor, Estar Alnenya Lorta. The boy was not at all like his father, Estar Hasell Lorta, who while not perfect, had been an earnest follower of YaJiann and a sympathizer of the Aelis. Jalek suspected that it had been position and politics that had prevented the old emperor from formally joining with the Aelis before he died. Still, he had been a fair and relatively peaceful ruler, not like his warmongering brat of a son.
He’s your emperor, chided Azanoth’s imagined voice.
“As I am convicted of conscious, so I seek repentance and absolution.” Jalek whispered the prayer as he sealed it with another Aelic prayer gesture. The young Lorta was Aukasia’s emperor and by every tradition and law was entitled to his subject’s absolute devotion and respect. Jalek was wrong to question the emperor’s execution of Malik, for did not Lorta’s rule have the blessing of YaJiann? After all, he had been crowned by the Medasylas, the first Arch Sage to come forth since the days of Alnostra Kyrell, over a thousand years ago. Something revolted inside Jalek at the thought of the Medasylas, an acute feeling of cold anxiety that he had only ever felt in situations of extreme danger.
The sudden and unsolicited sensation came with such force that Jalek froze in his tracks. The Medasylas was a Sage, wasn’t he? Although he had never personally met the man, Jalek had heard several reliable sources witness to the Medasylas’ uncanny clairvoyance and gift of prophecy, something only the Al’Kalyra was supposed to be capable of.
“By the light of YaJiann, I say unto thee be gone, Aedar, thou fallen lord of death and darkness,” Jalek whispered the expulsion prayer, this time sealing it by touching his forehead before his lips and heart, the Aelic sign of a particularly earnest importuning of the heavens. He repeated the prayer and gestured two more times before the foreboding subsided, and yet it would not entirely depart. Instead, it lingered in the bottom of his heart and in the back of his mind. What did that mean?
Jalek resumed his course, this time breaking into a jog, hoping that the increased physical exertion would help clear his mind and dispel his melancholy. Another half an hour passed before he caught sight of the Hirath’s west road and two figures standing a hundred or so yards ahead of him. He slowed to a stop and drew his telescope through which he could see that the first figure was an unusually tall man with long black hair, Iok. The second was a curly haired, dark-skinned man with a thick muscular build, Nadal. Just as Jalek went to lower his telescope, he noticed a third smaller shape crumpled on the ground between the two Imperial Guards, who is that? He adjusted the telescope’s lens, bringing into focus a young woman no older than sixteen with strands of blonde hair sticking to a tear stained face.
Jalek belted his telescope, flipped his spear blade-up, and launched into a sprint. Closing the distance as fast as he could, he heard Iok and Nadal’s raucous laughter intermingled with the girl’s pathetic sobs. As he drew closer, he could see them kneel over her on the ground and cruelly wrestle her onto her back. I won’t make it before they start. That thought, mixed with the loudening sound of their sadistic laughter and the girl’s increasingly desperate cries, ignited something inside of him, a feeling that he had never experienced before. Jalek felt an intense heat blaze to life inside his
chest. It wasn’t anger, although he felt that, but an actual painless burning sensation, a benign flame that radiated from his heart and exploded throughout his extremities.
The weight of the pack on his back, the tools at his belt, and the spear in his right hand vanished. The hunger that had been gnawing at his belly subsided and every trace of his travel fatigue disappeared. He was unfettered by the pains and limitations of his body, as though his soul had been freed from mortal constraint ready to take flight.
Jalek felt alive.
As the power circulated throughout his entire body, his legs moved faster and faster, accelerating him to a speed beyond even what he’d known as a vigorous youth. What is this? The trees in his peripheral vision blurred into a shapeless tunnel of brownish-green, and the roar of wind rushing past his ears threatened to deafen him as he perpetually picked up speed.
To match the abruptness of its onset, Jalek’s internal fire extinguished, taking its gift of unnatural speed and leaving behind an acute throbbing pain in his legs. He stumbled, legs almost failing him, as he came to halt just a few paces away from the two Imperial Guards and the teenaged girl. Disconcerted, he glanced over his shoulder to where he had broken into his run. Impossible! I must’ve run over a hundred yards in three seconds. Able athlete and fast sprinter though Jalek was, he shouldn’t have been able to cross that distance in so short a time.
A bass voice made gravelly by the constant smoking of Lettle Leaf, called him back to the moment. “How long you been standing there, Jalek?”
Jalek turned to find Iok staring up at him. He was kneeling over the sobbing girl effortlessly staving off her desperate defensive kicks. “You just gonna watch?” He flashed a wicked grin, “She’s a pretty one, aint she?”
“And young too!” Nadal chuckled. He sat behind the girl, one muscular arm hooked around her neck to keep her subdued. “We found her walking through these woods alone, gathering firewood.” The girl sobbed, to which Nadal responded by tightening his choke hold on her. “Can you believe the luck?”
Iok glanced down at the girl. “You’re welcome to her, Jalek, but you’re gonna have to wait your…”
Iok’s words were cut short as the butt of Jalek’s spear caught him square in the face. The tall, long-haired man spat out a tooth as he spun to the ground, a stream of blood whipping out of his nose and splashing Jalek’s boot. Nadal gaped only for an instant before he shrugged off his surprise, released the girl, and launched himself to his feet. As he stood, Nadal’s hand flew to his belt and half unsheathed a knife before he froze on account of the point of Jalek’s spear kissing his jugular. He ground his teeth in frustration and then eased his hand away from his weapon.
“You will not touch her.” Jalek growled.
By this time Iok had recovered, retrieved his sword, and was standing only five short paces from Jalek’s left flank. “Who do you think you are, Jalek?” He spat another wad of congealed blood at him and wiped his still gushing nose with the sleeve of his cloak.
“I think I am the leader of this mission.” Jalek didn’t look at Iok, but continued to stare down Nadal who seemed to have abandoned his bravado upon realizing just how easily Jalek could end his life. “And I will not abide this sort of shameful behavior.”
Nadal shot a worried glance at Iok before looking back into Jalek’s angry face. “She’s only a dauchen chit, Jalek! We were jes…” his voice cut off as Jalek pressed his spear a little harder against his throat, the point drawing a pinprick of blood.
“You dare threaten us!” Iok hissed. “We are the hidden knives of the emperor himself!”
“And right now you are under my command, so I say you are not to touch this girl or any like her!” Jalek cast a sidelong glance at Iok. “Now drop your sword, Iok, or I will ram my spear through Nadal’s neck before I turn it on you!”
“Iok,” Nadal worked to keep the worry from his tone.
Iok glanced at Nadal, then the girl, and then returned to glaring at Jalek. “So be it. “He dropped his sword. “We won’t touch her.”
Upon hearing that, the girl rolled onto her knees, then scrambled to her feet and began sprinting toward the west road. Jalek waited until she had run a good distance before he retracted his spear from Nadal’s throat, although he made sure not to lower it, not yet.
Nadal rubbed his throat all the while casting a baleful glare at Jalek. “She’ll go straight to the city guard you know.”
Will they attack me? Jalek wondered. Although he had acted with a lion’s ferocity, his heart had been beating so hard he almost expected the sound of it to betray his fear. The Imperial Guard may be shameful and disgusting, but they were the best warriors in the empire. Jalek wasn’t sure he could best one, let alone two at once. He had truly risked his life for that nameless Amigus girl. “And this far from the battle front, they shall assume it was bandits that waylaid her, not Aukasian soldiers.” He turned to face Iok who stood, fists still clenched and nose dribbling blood. “Where are the horses?”
Iok again scrubbed his sleeve across his nose before answering, “Not far from here.” He pointed south.
Jalek nodded, lowered his spear, and went in the direction Iok had indicated. “We best be moving then.”
Jalek had scarcely walked five steps when he heard Iok call out, “I know what this is about, Jalek.”
He stopped and glanced over his shoulder, gripping his spear tight as he steeled himself against the expected attack.
“You’re a self-righteous Aelic zealot, like Salache.” Iok didn’t attack, walking to stand just behind Jalek. “That’s why you have this command, isn’t it?” He waited for a response, but when it was clear none would be forthcoming, he sneered. “Well, you best watch your back, because I promise you won’t be able to hide behind the general forever. And when he isn’t around to protect you, you’d better hope your YaJiann will.” The long haired man flashed a menacing smile.
Jalek met Iok’s stare and then glanced at Nadal who was now just a few paces behind the two men. “I believe Sen is in the city.”
“How do you know?” Nadal glanced toward Hirath.
“I saw the Lisidran orphan boy that the guards at the west gate told us about.”
Poor Malik.
“You sure?” Nadal asked.
“I’m certain it was him.”
“So what now?” Iok asked.
Jalek resumed walking south toward where their horses were tethered. “We wait and watch the west road. When Sen leaves, we’ll follow until we have an opportunity to capture him.”
“And what makes you so sure he’ll leave Hirath? Or head west?” Iok asked, his tone still colored by anger.
“Because I do not believe Sen is a deserter. I believe that he is a traitor.” Jalek had come to the conclusion during his three hour search for Iok and Nadal. As unlikely as it seemed, it was the only theory that made any sense. But where was Kiska? Had Sen killed him? “I think he is making his way to Salatia Taeo to warn the Amigus government of our incursion into their kingdom.”
“No Imperial Guard has ever betrayed the throne.” Iok snapped. “Not in six hundred―”
“Well there is a first time for everything.” Jalek said, his tone flat. “Besides, what would you rather choose to believe, Iok? That one of your own is a coward or traitor?”
Iok didn’t answer that.
“We need to stop him before he can warn the Amigus. That’s why General Salache put me in charge of this mission. Because I am not an Imperial Guard and will not hesitate to kill one.” Jalek wondered if saying that was pushing his luck too far, but fortunately Iok didn’t react to the veiled threat. For the moment, he seemed cowed, but Jalek’s instincts told him that one day, very soon, his offense would recoil on him and he would have to fight for his life, fight hard. Could he beat Iok? And what if Nadal joined the fight? So far from the army, they could claim any number of accidents or misfortunes had befallen him. I’m probably safe until we find Sen, but then I’ll have to do the impossibl
e.
Like running faster than a man is supposed to be able to run? whispered a familiar, though distinct, voice inside his mind, invoking a mnemonic echo of how it felt to have a power beyond his own pouring into him. That power had lent him superhuman strength, making possible the impossible, all to the end of safeguarding an innocent girl’s virtue and probably her life. Could it happen again if Jalek needed to save his own life?
The voice didn’t surprise Jalek, for he had heard it occasionally from his youth. It had oft times guided him in difficult decisions and warned him of danger. The Aelic clerics had told him it was the voice of YaJiann’s spirit descending to aid the faithful, though he’d never met another person who’d heard it like he did. Still, YaJiann granting him strength seemed the right explanation for what he could only call a miracle. That brought him comfort and quieted his anxiety. YaJiann would protect him if he had faith.
YaJiann was the only one who could.
In his isolation, the crown showed Yaokken many things, marvelous, terrible things: his fondest dreams and his darkest nightmares.
Chapter 11
In the Shadow of Death
Sitrell was sixteen again. He didn’t know how or why, but it didn’t seem to matter as disorientating memories of armies, invasions, and alien technology faded, slipping away like a forgotten dream. It was night and he was in Salatia Taeo, the Amigus capital city where he’d grown up. Yet, he wasn’t where he was supposed to be, at the Alarian minster attending the mid-week Istran youth lecture. No, instead he was nervously striding hooded, cloaked, and bearing a sheathed sword at his left hip, through a district known as “The Bottoms,” one of the capital’s meanest slums.
Heroes of the Crystal Star (Valcoria Book 1) Page 11