“I am Myst and this is Tair’Lianne. We come from Joram’s Bend,” she said carefully. “Or rather, what remains of it after the Zyn Beast attack.”
A single white eyebrow arched up as the one named Ayce leaned close. “Could they be this close already?” he said softly.
“It would explain why the river gate is closed,” Tienn answered confidently.
Tair glanced toward the town. A solid gate of wood and stone had been pulled closed, leaving only a few outbuildings and a number of fishing boats scattered along the pond in front of it. Half a dozen figures stood clustered on top of the gate, near its center, their armor glinting from the rising sun.
“You know of the Zyn Beast attacks?” Myst asked Tienn.
He nodded. “We have been given information that they were in Kaalmoore, but we did not know how far.”
“They’re close,” Tair told him. “They should be setting this town on fire before the sun goes tomorrow.”
Ayce laughed. “That’s a funny way of putting it.”
“That is because we have seen it happen thrice,” Myst replied without a trace of humor.
“Three times!” Ayce exclaimed.
Myst nodded and Tienn smiled kindly. “Then it seems we are lucky to have found you. You have survived three attacks from a Zynnashan force and have a good idea of how they will strike. The Knight Captain will wish to speak with you.”
“We have personal business within those walls,” Myst said, her tone suddenly becoming agitated. “We have no time to speak with a knight.”
Tienn stood firm, his hands on his hips. “You said that the Zynnashans could attack at any time. If this is true, then the Knight Captain will need all the help he can get – as will the people of Fhaalvak. You have seen their tactics and can tell this to the captain. I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to wander away with such information. You will speak with the captain and then you can go about whatever business calls you here.
“Besides,” Tienn added with a smirk, “without us, those guards will not let you pass those gates.”
25
Myst and Tair were led through the streets of Fhaalvak by a dark-haired woman of some stature. Myst assumed this because the knights they would pass would stand a bit straighter when they saw her. They wouldn’t salute, but they did show respect. Behind them were the three strange men that had rescued them from the river. There was something familiar about the violet-skinned man named Tienn, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She brushed it away with a mental shrug. She had more important concerns to deal with at the moment.
The muddy streets of the border town were busy with people loading carts or placing wide planks of wood upon the larger windows of their homes. Myst noticed that most of the homes they passed were constructed of wattle-and-daub with thatched roofs. She laughed cynically to herself, knowing it would only serve as kindling to the Zynnashans when they arrived.
There was an air of panic that reverberated through the streets as the townsfolk seemed unsure of what to do or where to go. Myst commented inwardly that at least they had some fair warning of what was coming. At least someone listened. She thought of all those that lost their lives in the fields of Joram’s Bend and how needlessly they perished. If only someone had listened then. Well, that was not entirely true. Her uncle had listened, he had gotten involved. And look where it got him - floating down the Tebis’non with a crushed skull. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear Uncle Teeg chastising her for her line of thinking. It was not the way he had taught her.
It was something else she could blame the Zyn Beasts for: not only had they killed her uncle, but they had murdered her morality, as well.
The memory of her uncle whispered that this was also wrong, but his ghostly voice was drowned out by the metallic thuds of armored boots as a division of knights marched by. Twelve men stomped by in rows of three, the pikes they carried gleaming wickedly in the autumn sunrise. Myst could not see their faces, covered as they were by the angled visors that slid over the front of their rounded helmets. She, Tair, and the rest of their party stepped aside as they marched past, heading toward the east side of town.
“This way, please,” urged the female guide. She moved on, leading the five of them to the north where the simple homes of earth and wood began to shift into larger homes of granite and oak with roofs of layered slate. The streets here were cleaner and wider. A young boy ran past them, stopping at various points to extinguish the wrought-iron street lamps. The further they moved on, the more lavish the homes became – some with two stories, others with lawns decorated with colorful plants that were beginning to fade as the chill of late autumn swept the land. Some homes had ornate gates of black metal rods twisted into pleasing patterns that were anchored by carved slabs of granite resembling various animals.
Myst shook her head. It seemed every town had a place for the wealthy – and they had no compunction in showing it. She knew it did not matter. Rich or poor, all of their homes would burn under the Zyn tiger beasts and their fire magic.
“There is little activity here,” Tienn noted. “Do they not know of the danger that approaches?”
The young woman paused to regard Tienn. “Captain Longvaale informed Lord Demestri first. The King’s cousin immediately fled, taking his family east toward Kaalé. The wealthier families followed suit.”
“Leaving the poor on their own,” Ayce muttered.
The female guide turned her gaze to Ayce, her brown eyes furious. “The Knights of Kaalé are here to defend everyone within these walls. Everyone can come and go as they choose, but they are here to stay. They will not abandon their duty.” The woman then spun on her heels and continued to lead them to their destination at a quicker pace.
Myst smiled despite herself. She liked the woman.
The group continued past the manicured lawns and decorated facades of Fhaalvak’s wealthy citizens until they came upon a section of wall that bordered the northern side of the town. It was shorter than the curtain wall that protected Fhaalvak and had a singular arched opening in its center with only one portcullis gate as its defense. Rising above the wall was the namesake to the farming community – Fhaalvak Tower. Once home to the Border Knights of old during the boorsliig rampages, the tower now served as a measure of the King’s reach toward his southwestern lands. The tower and the knights who served here were little more than city guards now, protecting one of Kaalmoore’s largest import and export stations.
Myst only knew this information thanks to her uncle – who once served as a militia man during the boorsliig battles. She gazed at the tower with watering eyes, silently cursing the wide structure for acting as another reminder of the pain she felt. She abruptly wiped her face, not wanting anyone to see her weep. She was so tired of crying.
Two footmen wearing padded armor and steel hats and each holding a long, barbed spear guarded the narrow gate on either side of the portcullis. They did not salute the woman as she passed, but they did acknowledge her with a nod. Their eyes strayed a bit as Myst walked by and then widened in surprise at the massive bulk of Dorn and his dual-bladed axe. As the six entered the garrison area, they were met with the sounds of hammers on steel; the coarse shouts of commanders prepping their troops for battle; the hiss of blades being sharpened; and the nervous cries of horses as their keepers fumbled with barding straps.
“Ugh, what is that smell?” Tair complained, waving her hand in front of her sour-looking face.
“Battle,” Myst said absently. Indeed, she could smell what Tair could and it did not offend her. For some unknown reason, the mixture of sweat, steel, leather, and manure combined to create a heady scent that filled her with a sense of…anticipation.
“I smell fear,” Ayce commented without his usual glib tone.
Their guide stopped again, this time eyeing Ayce with a dangerous glare. “The Knights of Kaalé will not falter by fear of any danger! If I were not charged with escorting you to Captain Longvaale, you and
I would be settling this outside these walls.”
Ayce lifted both hands in a defensive gesture as Tienn stepped in. “I am quite sure our friend did not suggest that the Knights are cowards, milady.”
“Kreena,” she corrected.
“Kreena,” Tienn repeated with a slight bow. “Nevertheless, these brave men and those that support them would be wise to fear what is coming.”
“You have seen them before, then?” Tair asked Tienn.
Tienn turned to the young woman and lowered his hood. Tair flinched back at the sight of his purple skin, snowy hair, and white eyes. “I have seen them. I have fought along side them. A few I have been fortunate to call friend.”
“Friend!” Myst cried. “Those animals are your friends?”
“There are many species of Zynnashans, much like there are many types of Vasalians,” Tienn explained patiently. “Those that are attacking the river folk of Kaalmoore are unknown to me. The Zynnashans are not a race to wage war so easily and I am curious as to why they would go so far.”
“The diamond,” Tair answered with a tone as though everyone in the world knew the answer.
Tienn rounded upon the girl with an intensity that frightened her. “What diamond?”
“Something called the Purestone. The Zyn Beast we talked to said someone stole it from their holy ground and that they trailed it to Valdine. They’ve been destroying one town after another down the Tebis’non just to get it back,” she answered soberly.
“Wait, hold on a moment…you talked to a Zynnashan?” Ayce asked incredulously.
“Please, if we could reach the main hall,” Kreena interrupted. “I have much to do in anticipation of this attack.”
“One moment, please, Kreena,” Tienn urged. “What these two women know could save the lives of many.” He turned again to Myst and Tair and folded his arms across his chest. “Now, I want to know everything you know. Who was this Zynnashan that spoke with you?”
Tair squinted in an effort to remember its name. “Lynth,” she finally said. “It was a panther, and it knew shadow magic.”
Ayce and Tienn gave each other knowing looks. “Did Lynth know who stole the diamond?”
“No,” Tair replied with a shake of her head. “Only that he knew it was close. He said if he could find it, he could turn the attack force away. When we figured it could be here in Fhaalvak, he left. We haven’t seen him since.”
“And you two traveled here because?”
“We came to warn the people of Fhaalvak,” Myst said heatedly, pushing Tair away from the Draaken. “What does it matter why we came?”
Tienn faced Ayce. “How much would you wager that Sajiix already knew that the Zynnashans were searching for the Purestone?”
“Everything. It’s a sure bet,” he said gloomily.
“Damn him!” Tienn cursed. “He’s always using people as pawns. Kreena, has there been any Magi arriving in town that you have noticed, any Amethyst Magi?”
Kreena nodded. “We have a trio of Magi staying at the Fhaalvak Inn; a Diamond, a Ruby, and an Amethyst Magi.”
“Sajiix wouldn’t be with anyone else,” Ayce suggested. “Unless he was with his apprentice.”
“These three Magi also mentioned a diamond to Captain Longvaale,” Kreena added.
Ayce shook his head and gave a sardonic smile. “Wonderful,” he snorted. “All we need now is a group of light-bringers to complete the ensemble.”
Kreena coughed softly, “They arrived yesterday.”
Tienn turned once more to Kreena, his white eyebrows arched so far up his head that Tair thought they were going to fly away. “I beg your pardon?”
“A group of paladins, clerics, and priests arrived yesterday. They said very little and have rarely left the small temple we have here.”
A disturbing picture began to form in Tienn’s mind and the feeling of dread he had felt in Kaalé became a sickening drop in his stomach.
“Kreena, take us to Captain Longvaale,” Tienn ordered with an eerie calm. “We need to know what he knows. If what I am thinking comes to pass, the Zynnashans will be the least of our worries.”
Without a further word, the young woman led the group past the readying knights. They walked around the wide tower, passing rows of low buildings that hugged the inner wall. Barracks, stables, smiths, fletchers, and tanners all surrounded the circular tower. Men scrambled everywhere, some shouting orders, others conferring in hushed whispers of rumor.
The tower had one entrance – an arched door of solid oak banded with iron. It faced the garrison’s outer wall gate – a formidable structure of stone, iron, and wood. Two massive doors constructed from the same sturdy oak banded thrice with cold iron were now closed and barred by two massive beams as thick as the tree they were made from. An iron portcullis was lowered against the wood, giving the gate extra strength and protection. A row of men, armored in leather and chainmail and armed with crossbows lined the crenellated parapet above the gate, their eyes scanning the northern countryside for any threat.
The inside of the tower was not hollow as Myst thought it would be. Inside the circular design was another stone tower that stretched up into gray shadow. Two sets of staircases on either side wound around each other along the inner wall. Before them was a smaller arched door that Kreena ushered them through into a long, low-ceilinged room that encompassed over half the base of the tower. The floor and walls were made of the same blocked granite, but the ceiling was wood. Along the circular wall were tapestries of plain design, one of them with the King’s crest of a diving valehawk and two crossed swords, while another held the knight’s banner of silver thread banded by a black diagonal stripe. The only light came from three guttering torches that were bracketed to the stone wall, their flames nearly licking the ceiling above, leaving scorch marks from years of service. Two rows of long tables stretched from one end of the room to another with matching wooden benches running along them. At the end of the room, flanked by two doors, was a smaller table – presumably where the captain would sit during his meeting with his knights.
Kreena let them walk in, wincing at the massive height of Dorn as he wedged and ducked until he was through the doorway. “Captain Longvaale will be with you shortly. He had a recent dignitary arrive and must see to his needs. I have sent word ahead of us that you have knowledge of the Zynnashan attacks and he will be most eager to talk with you.” She then nodded to each in turn and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Myst could smell the polishing oil used to keep the benches and tables in serviceable condition. That and the oily smoke from the torches made her feel nauseous, and it was then she realized she could not remember the last time she had eaten anything. She leaned against one of the tables as the group moved deeper into the room.
Tair approached her carefully. “You all right?”
Myst nodded, putting her hand up to her head, gently rubbing her temple.
“You want to tell me why you told that purple man we were here to warn Fhaalvak?” she whispered.
The sudden creak of wood nearly made Myst jump as Ayce plopped himself down upon one of the benches. Dorn wandered around the room, gazing at the tapestries, while Tienn stood near Ayce, his eyes constantly jumping from Myst to the door. Seeing that their company was somewhat distracted, Myst leaned closer to Tair. “I do not want them to know what I intend to do with the diamond.”
“That’s going to be a bit hard since everyone knows it’s here, right?”
“They don’t know where it is,” Myst said softly, keeping her own eyes on Tienn. “We just have to find it first and leave town before the Zynnashans attack.”
“Is that all?” Tair replied sarcastically with a roll of her eyes for effect.
Tienn suddenly stepped toward them, his eyes still fixed on Myst. “So, the two of you have been evading the Zynnashans since Valdine, hm?”
“Yes, we have,” Tair muttered with a soft tinge of irritation.
“Did you face any of them
?” he pushed.
Tair began to tell him to remove himself in such a manner that would have made a Stormrage Sea Captain blush, when Myst shushed her and stood to her full height, nearly meeting Tienn’s own eyes. “Yes. A wolf Zyn Beast. It came at us later that night after they burned Valdine. It would have killed me had Tair not gashed its leg with a deep wound. We fought dozens of them at Joram’s Bend. Frightening they may be, but they are not immortal. The same one from Valdine found us on our way here…just last night. It remembered us. It said it wanted to drink our blood. We killed it.”
“Wolf Zyns, huh?” Ayce called out. “Not easy to beat. The knights are going to have their hands full.”
“You fought it with your sword?” Tienn asked with genuine curiosity.
“No, with a rock,” Myst sneered. “Of course I fought it with my sword.” She suddenly realized that Tienn was not looking at her, but at the pommel of her uncle’s sword that peeked over her left shoulder. She unconsciously adjusted the baldric she wore, uncomfortable with the way he was studying it.
“May I see it?” he asked kindly.
With a quick reach, Myst had retrieved the blade, holding its sharpened point towards Tienn. His eyes scanned the steel, pausing briefly at the bronze crossguard molded in the shape of coiled oak leaves. He looked at the etching carefully, nodding at the craftsmanship.
“That is quite a weapon for someone so young,” Tienn finally said, taking a step away from her. “Did you inherit that from your father?”
Myst laughed. “My father would not know what to do with a blade larger than his steak knife.” She then skillfully replaced the blade in the scabbard strapped to her back without a glance behind her. “Trust me when I say that this sword belongs to me and no other. If I had any way of returning it to its original owner, I would do so a thousand times over.”
“Are you saying that the previous owner of this weapon is dead?”
“She’s saying it’s none of your business,” Tair stepped up to the two, standing close to Myst, her hands on the handles of her daggers.
Rage of the Diamond's Eye (The Guildsmen Series Book 1) Page 29