Rynn suddenly leapt towards her, letting out an almost feral cry that echoed across the gardens. “You lie.” He gripped her arm tightly as she tried to step away from him.
“Let me go,” she ordered, confused as to who this was standing before her.
“I would do as she says.” Arlath was striding towards them, his pale blue eyes fixed on Rynn.
Kithia felt the acolyte’s hand shudder and saw his body tense. “Please,” she whispered to him.
“Did you hear me?” yelled Arlath. “I suggest you release her and leave this estate.”
As the recruit advanced, reaching out to separate them, Kithia saw the change in Rynn’s eyes and froze. They were once again opaque, as they had been when he had healed Ilkar.
Arlath grasped the acolyte by the wrist and wrenched his hand away from Kithia. Rynn calmly placed his free hand against Arlath’s chest and uttered a single indecipherable word. In an instant, the recruit was hurled backwards, landing heavily on his back twenty feet away from where he had been standing.
Kithia moved away from Rynn as quickly as she could and ran to Arlath’s side, realizing before she reached him that he was unconscious
“I…I don’t understand.” She heard Rynn’s frightened voice behind her.
“I suggest you leave,” she shouted to the acolyte. “Before the guards arrive and before Arlath comes to.”
“Is he alive?” Rynn asked shakily. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I couldn’t control…”
“Rynn, go,” cried Kithia, looking back and seeing the fear and confusion on his face.
“I’m sorry,” he said, sprinting away.
Kithia watched him vanish from view and then heard Arlath groan. As he regained consciousness, she could also hear the sound of footfalls approaching from the house accompanied by Arelya’s high-pitched voice.
Khir flinched as he heard Gorric’s dislocated shoulder click back into place. The yell of pain that followed only amplified Khir’s discomfort.
“This is what happens when you push yourself too hard,” came Devanor’s voice from behind him.
Khir had been so caught up in watching the healers tend to Gorric that he had failed to hear the officer enter. “Sir, this was not Gorric’s fault. It was…”
“Still coming to his defence I see, Khir,” interrupted Devanor. “Noble but unnecessary in this situation.”
The two healers began rotating Gorric’s left arm, checking whether the bones were back in alignment as they should be.
“No harm done, sir,” said Gorric, grimacing.
Devanor raised an eyebrow. “No serious harm but keep training at this pace and you will certainly have more than a dislocated shoulder to worry about. You have been wielding your sword day and night whilst taking the weight of nearly a full suit of armour. Physically, you are exhausted. Your mental state is suffering too.”
“I just want to get out there as soon as possible to help the king.”
“And you will be of use to him like this?” Devanor signaled for the healers to leave the room. “Gorric, it is no secret that you have another reason for wanting to face these foreigners but you will only enter the ranks of the Rotian army when we deem you ready. Physically and mentally.”
“Do you not feel that you could better serve the kingdom being amongst those men who have gone north, sir?”
“No, I don’t. I was amongst the ranks before you two and the rest of the recruits were even born. I am too old to be going off to war.”
Khir gave Gorric a knowing glance. Devanor may have been over twice their age but there was no doubt that he would still be a formidable opponent. If the call to arms came, Devanor would once more join the ranks to protect the land and its people.
“What are my orders, sir?” Gorric asked the veteran.
Devanor stroked his greying beard as he thought. “Tomorrow, you will avoid any physical training. Instead, you will apply yourself in tactical and strategic training. You are a good swordsman but your mind is often unfocused during combat. Sharpen your wits and it will not be long before you may be considered for a junior officer position.”
Gorric tried not to look disappointed. He found tactical studies often hard to follow and relied on the help of both Khir and Arlath during their lessons.
“I assume that I will be continuing as usual, sir,” Khir said.
“Are you injured too?” Devanor asked him.
“No, sir.”
“Then you have your answer. When it comes to physical and mental training, Khir, you seem to have a sharp mind and a good aim but you clearly require further practice with a sword. I will be increasing your daily swordsmanship training from now on.”
As Devanor turned back to face Gorric, Khir shook his head. He simply struggled when it came to hand-to-hand combat and, whilst training required a recruit’s sword to become an extension of their own arm, Khir was still slow and clumsy. He would not even be permitted into the bowman ranks if he could not wield a blade.
“Rest that arm,” Devanor ordered Gorric. “I will check in with you both later.” With that, he left the room.
“How do you feel?” Khir asked.
“Like I could take on an army,” smiled Gorric. “My shoulder doesn’t even hurt.”
“Really?” Khir stepped forward and gripped his friend’s shoulder, watching with amusement as Gorric winced. “Still looks sore to me.”
Pulling his arm away, Gorric scowled. “It sounds like we both have some way to go before we can enter the ranks.”
“A long way,” muttered Khir.
“Having doubts?”
Khir shook his head. “No. However, all I can think is that my inability to wield a sword successfully may ultimately mean I cannot enter the ranks and go with you.”
“What makes you think I will be successful?” Gorric asked, rubbing at his aching shoulder. “Besides, even if we both earn promotion into the ranks, the chances of us both being placed within the same regiment are slim.”
“Why?”
“Recruits from Vylandor are not simply allocated positions within the city garrison, Khir. I could end up being sent to Fort Calden whilst you were placed in the ranks of the Karthain bowmen. Where you end up is left to the disgression of both the officers here and in the main army.”
Khir sighed. “You tell me this now?”
“It gets better. You and I may well both be assigned places in Vylandor’s force but I would be charging into battle amongst the infantry whilst you rained arrows on our enemies from the back or flanks. We would not fight alongside each other.”
“You would think that they might tell us that from the outset,” Khir remarked.
Gorric laughed. “We can always put a request in, if you can’t stand to be apart from me.”
It was Khir’s turn to scowl. “Not a bad idea perhaps. We do of course know the king personally now.”
Gorric’s laugh faded. “I wish I knew what was happening in the north. They will be at the Ulmerien by now, if not beyond it.”
“As soon as there is any news, I’m sure we will be told. We just have to be patient and trust in Afaron.”
“My patience wore thin a long time ago and the only people I trust are either here in Vylandor or…” Gorric paused, ran a hand through his hair then opted to refocus his thoughts. “Let’s go. Devanor will kick our backsides even more if we sit here talking.”
As he followed the nobleman out of the room, Khir could not help but wonder whether their conversations would ever be similar again to those they held when walking through the countryside outside Tamriel before the invasion began.
~
Rynn stared out of the window in Varayan’s room, peering beyond the estate gardens to the city streets. He expected to see a contingent of guards approaching any minute with a warrant for his arrest.
He was still going over the events that had transpired at Karrid’s estate earlier. He was starting to believe that there was no power left within him after healing Ilka
r but clearly something remained. He had been as shocked as Arlath and Kithia when he somehow threw the soldier across the garden with just a touch. Again, he had been awake during this but had been powerless to stop it. He recalled wanting to push Arlath away as the recruit interrupted his conversation with Kithia but he would never have had the confidence or strength to do so.
He glanced over at Varayan, whose condition seemed to have worsened still since the morning. “Why can’t I heal you?” he asked, fully aware that he would never receive an answer.
Hearing shouts beyond the estate walls, he quickly turned back but still no guards appeared at the gates. Exhaustion threatened to overcome him as he retreated from the window and he made for his own bedroom, looking one last time at Varayan as he staggered past.
“I need to sleep.” Rynn was not even aware that he was talking outloud.
As he entered his room, the acolyte felt a dull ache beginning in his head. Thoughts of how he could possibly harness the once-more dormant power swam through his mind. As his tired brain struggled to assemble the ideas into a coherent pattern, clarity suddenly struck him unexpectedly.
A distant voice was calling to him.
Now is the time. Read.
“You wished to see me, councilor?”
Talgan was sat behind the desk in his private study but had failed to hear the captain of the guards enter. His thoughts were a whirling tempest within his head, going over Saroth’s words when they last met.
“I did,” he smiled, composing himself and standing. “Please, take a seat.”
Toresin sighed as he began walking slowly across the room. “I’ll stand if you don’t mind. I am sorry to be blunt but I have many duties to attend to so will this take long?”
“You don’t like me much, Toresin,” stated Talgan, choosing to remain standing so that the captain did not tower over him. “Why is this?”
“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”
Talgan shook his head. “No, but I would like to know before I continue. Your attitude towards me is puzzling.”
“Councilor, believe it or not, I do not have many people I can call friends.” Toresin’s voice carried a hint of sarcasm. “My job here is to protect the city at all costs and I have to make enemies along the way in doing so. You and I do not agree on some matters but I neither like nor dislike you. You are a politician and I have learnt that words mean very little, whereas actions on the other hand speak volumes. Does that answer your question?”
“In part. However, I will not push the subject any further. Instead, I wish to know how your investigations are going.”
Toresin’s eyes narrowed. “I have been reporting to Jolas. Surely you should be discussing this with him.”
“Jolas has other matters to attend to. You heard about the incident at Karrid’s estate?”
Toresin nodded. “It seems that the young acolyte from Boraila is a potential danger but Jolas insisted that I did not question him. Arlath Thellis sustained no serious injuries.”
“Only to his pride,” said Talgan. “Jolas will be keeping Rynn under close watch at his estate from now on. I simply wish to understand whether you have found anything unusual within Vylandor during your searches. I need to put minds at rest amongst the people.”
“Nothing strange has been unearthed during the investigations. We have questioned those who would know if a new power was growing within the city. We have even been searching the sewers but nothing as yet has come to light to indicate the presence of these foreigners in Vylandor.”
Talgan walked around his desk, hands clasped behind his back. “This is a large city, Toresin. I assume that you will continue looking.”
“Of course we will,” Toresin said impatiently. “I still feel that something is not right here. I will be keeping a close eye on our young survivors from the north too.”
“What do you mean?”
“It could be that they were followed back here by a spy. We are still investigating Varayan’s fall but he will not survive much longer so, with no other witnesses coming forward, that may be a dead end now.”
Talgan came to stand alongside the captain. “You feel that Varayan falling was no accident?”
“We may never know. He was a thief, councilor, who clearly was up to no good. When he passes, it will be no great loss. However, the manner in which he fell has raised questions. He looked as though he had tried to leap an impossible distance between rooftops but an experienced thief such as he would have known he could not make it. This indicates to me that perhaps he was being pursued.”
“And you believe that perhaps a spy who followed them back to Vylandor did this?”
“It is just one possibility. If there is a spy in the city, chances are that he is either long gone by now or hiding. Another reason to continue the searches.” Toresin glanced at Talgan, seeing the councilor’s thoughtful expression. “You look troubled.”
“Simply concerned that one of those murderers could be inside our city at this very moment.” Talgan looked up into the captain’s inquisitive eyes. “However, I feel safe knowing that you and your men are aware of this possibility.”
“There are many possibilities. I hope that none of them turn out to be true. Is there anything else you wish of me?”
“No. I thank you for taking the time to speak with me and all I ask is that you keep me informed if you find anything. If I can keep the people calm, then it will make your job much easier.”
Toresin turned to face him. “As you wish. Good day, councilor.”
Talgan watched the captain leave the study and then leant back against his desk. Toresin clearly still did not like him and had been holding back during their brief conversation but what other reasons did the captain have?
Talgan withdrew the dagger from its hidden sheath behind his back, placing it carefully on the desk. Toresin had given him no reason to use it and he hoped that the blade would remain clean.
Chapter 30
A cold breeze blew through the trees on either side of the track, causing the last leaves clinging to their branches to rustle softly. The night sky was without clouds and moonlight filtered through the forest to cause eerie shadows amongst the ground cover.
Ilkar patted the neck of his horse as he rode through the darkness, occasionally glancing back to check the remainder of the king’s contingent was following. The only sign they were behind him was a glimpse of armour as a soldier would ride through a beam of moonlight. He was riding well ahead of them in an attempt to appease his concerns over a potential ambush being sprung. Scouts had already reported that no enemy soldiers lurked amongst the trees and that the settlement ahead was quiet apart from the building where Daen and the other five survivors from Turambar were awaiting them. However, Ilkar still felt apprehensive returning to this region on the south banks of the Ulmerien.
Somewhere deep in the forest to the west, the shrill call of an owl could be heard and was promptly answered by a second more distant shriek. Ilkar shivered at the sound and continued casting nervous glances into the sinister shadows of the trees.
As the track began to curve northwest, he spotted a light ahead and his heart began to rise. They were almost at their destination and he would soon see Daen again. Despite having travelled from Vylandor with three thousand soldiers, Ilkar had still felt alone. Being reunited with these survivors would give him the hope he so desperately needed.
The buildings of the settlement came into view and Ilkar was pleased that the moonlight fell upon most of them. Several located on the outskirts remained shrouded in darkness. The sound of the river also met his ears, despite the fact he could not yet see the flowing waters. He noticed that the light that was seen as he approached was eminating from a larger building at the north end of the settlement and he recognized the house immediately as that belonging to Cullen and his wife.
Dismounting, Ilkar scanned the treeline surrounding the settlement. As he did so, a soft call came from the foliage to his left
and moments later a Rotian scout appeared from the darkness. Ilkar recognized him as the man who had given the original report to Afaron just over a day before.
“It still seems quiet,” he said to the scout.
“There is nothing different since we were last here, sir.”
Ilkar stared across at Cullen’s house and the two windows that were illuminated by flickering candlelight within. “Why that building?”
“Sir?”
“Why would Daen and the others choose that house to rest in? It is very close to the river and is visible from the walls of Turambar. If the enemy soldiers now occupy the fortress and were watching the south bank of the Ulmerien, they would be able to see any light or movement.”
The scout pondered this for a moment. “Considering that some of them were wounded and that they were all exhausted, I doubt that they were thinking too clearly when they arrived here. We can move them to another house.”
“If the enemy realize they are here, then it will not be long before they come across the river. Of course, they may already be on the south side elsewhere.” Ilkar swept his hand towards the treeline. “Whilst the king is here, I want all scouts keeping watch in the forest. You will need to watch the east, west and south but place yourselves deep amongst the trees so that you would have ample time to warn us of any approaching danger. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir. I will deploy the men as you say.”
Ilkar watched as the scout headed back into the forest and vanished once more into the darkness. He then looked back down the track and could see the other soldiers approaching his position.
He quickly led his horse into the settlement, keeping as close to the cover of the buildings as possible until he stood directly south of Cullen’s house. He began moving north tentatively, casting the occasional look towards Turambar on the opposite bank. He tried the doors of one or two abandoned homes as he passed and was pleased to find them locked. No building showed signs of forced entry and this was certainly good news.
An empty stable stood to one side of Cullen’s house and Ilkar quickly tied his horse within before moving up to the building. He passed one of the lit windows and tried to peer through but a curtain had been drawn across. The second window was the same. Before he approached the front door though, Ilkar circled the house with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Happy that no foreigners waited to ambush them, the corporal moved up to the door and listened at it. For a moment, there was only silence but then came the sound of a boot heel scuffing the wooden floor somewhere beyond.
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