Down the Dark Path (Tyrants of the Dead Book 1)

by J. Edward Neill

  He dusted the earth from the seat of his pants and folded her hand into his own. “Once today, once tomorrow, and once again,” he promised. “Not even Marlos will be able to pry me away.”

  He and she ambled deep into the forest. He took her to Mirror, the pond no longer frozen, whose face she was happy to see. He tugged her atop the shelf of shale, where she overlooked the cool, rippling water, saying nothing of her mind. The hour was midday, and yet it felt to her as though a second dawn were upon her.

  “Back where we started,” he laughed. “Though a bit warmer this time.”

  She thought of a thousand things to say, but all of it seemed unworthy. She touched her bare toes to Mirror’s cheek and looked to Rellen. Time seemed to slow, and as all the sounds of Grandwood fled from her senses, she kissed him. It was the first time. The feeling of his mouth against hers was like every sensation she adored: the sun, the rain, the stars twinkling on a cloudless night. She knew it would be but the first kiss of many.

  “What was that?” he asked when she drew back.

  “Nothing.” She smiled.

  “It was something,” he exclaimed. “All my life’s kisses, and none were like that.”

  “Consider it something to remember me by. Forget me not in Mormist, and perhaps I will kiss you harder.”

  The hours swept by. She felt no hunger, no longing to return to the security of Gryphon. She and Rellen melted into a conversation without an end, punctuated by kisses, caresses, and long moments when gazes meant more than words. When the sky burned with the luminous fire of sunset, and when at last they slid down from the shale shelf and emerged from their secret niche in the forest, the pain of the morning was gone.

  Come dusk, they emerged from the forest and started back for the keep. Far above their footsteps, the sky smoldered with violet clouds. The meadow between forest and city shifted in the breeze, the low grasses colored by brilliant patterns of shadow and light. She halted in the middle of the meadow, where the sun still shined, and Rellen stopped beside her. He kissed her harder than before, and she kissed him as though no other sensation mattered. By the time he and she parted, dusk had consumed what little remained of the day.

  * * *

  That night, Rellen entered his tower room alone and hungry. He kicked his boots off and hurled his shirt into a far corner, for once not caring where any of it landed. His head buzzed with Andelusia’s touch so powerfully that the thought of cleanliness or of food and drink seemed of distant importance. In the shadows of his room, he saw the familiar shapes of his two tall windows, each of which allowed only a thin ray of moonlight to pierce the quiet dark. It was in one such window he decided to sit, overlooking the streets of Gryphon’s northern quarter. His eyes adjusted gradually to the light, until the blue and gold banners flagging from distant towers became visible.

  After a long, long time of sitting peacefully on the sill, he went to his bed. It lay shrouded in darkness, uncharacteristically messy. A heap of clothes made a midden mound in its center, a mountain he hoped none of the servants or his mother had seen. It feels wrong being alone here, he thought again and again. She should be here with me, tangled in the sheets until a month…nay…a year from now.

  He sat amid the crumpled clothes and piled pillows, wakeful but dreaming deeply. He closed his eyes and wandered in the memory of her, tasting her kiss and smelling her scent like freshly fallen rain. An owl cooed outside, and the night’s wind began to float through his windows. He flopped backward into the mountain of clothes, stretched out wide-eyed and wondering, his belly growling and his blood moving like molten iron in his veins.

  Sleep came to claim him. He drowsed, and when he cracked his eyes open after what he guessed was only a few breaths, the light of dawn washed over him. Morning? He sat up with a start. His clothes hemming him in, he threw them to the floor like two shovelfuls of dirt. Ach! He winced, rubbing the pain in his ribs.

  That hurts.

  The source of his pain was easy to find. He had slept the night on the scabbard of Lorsmir’s sword. The dark scabbard jutted from beneath his blanket, half-hidden. He wondered how long it had lain there, for it had been months since last he held it.

  Stupid sword. Should’ve known Father was up to something when Lorsmir handed you over.

  He massaged his sore back with the flat of his hand. Absently, he lifted the scabbard to his chest and drew out the sword. It was still perfect, still treacherously sharp. The blade, long and silvery-blue like a river fish’s scales, rang like a chime as it slid from its sheath. Hello, you. He swished it back and forth. Miss me?

  He held the blade aloft, his chin nearly touching the flat of the blade. Weightless, more like air than steel. He gazed at its mirrorlike surface, his grin purposely foolish. It was then he felt the feeling return. He gripped the handle tightly, and as the color fled from his knuckles, so too did the feeling of strength, fell and furious, begin to fill his body. His heart quickened behind his ribs, and his muscles quivered beneath his skin. I could slay an army with this thing, he imagined. I could be like fire.

  No one could stop me.

  Half-shielded from the dawn by oaken shutters, the room remained hidden from the sunlight, but he saw the sword come to life like a thunderstorm arriving at the edge of a cloudless sky. The blade burst alight in his grasp. Burning with indigo flame, it heated the room as though a hearth were roaring in every corner. As suddenly as it caught fire, he leapt off his bed and swung the sword in a wide arc before him. The fireplace, once dark and empty, came screaming to life, the flames making charcoal of the two dry lumps of wood therein. He felt invincible, lusting for battle as though a horde of foes were waiting right outside his door. His blood boiled, but he felt no pain. The sword burned blue, but singed not a hair on his body.

  He returned to his senses a moment later. Feeling faint, he snapped awake, staggered backward, and let the blade fall to the floor. The indigo flame died, and he collapsed to the ground, sweating and quivering as though he had fought a hundred men. What was it? He felt the power draining from his body. Lorsmir, what on earth did you do to that damnable weapon?

  Darkness took hold of the room again. The fire in the hearth winked out and all became calm once more. In the deep shadow, he sucked in several sharp breaths. He scabbarded the sword and shoved it across the stone floor, sweat pouring from his face like sheets of summer rain. As he sat, his breath booming in his chest, he wondered if his father knew what the old smith had made. He doubted it somehow. Someone surely knows, he thought. But not Lorsmir, and not likely Father, but who?

  Promises

  At midmorning, the scents of a sumptuous breakfast filled Andelusia’s nose.

  She padded down the stairs and into the great hall, whose vastness teemed with life, the servants scurrying to pile food and drink upon some twenty tables. This was the final feast for the house guard of Gryphon, she knew. The men sat and stuffed their bellies as though the meal might be their last. She saw Saul and Garrett at the longest of the tables, sipping on warm cider and tearing at huge chunks of buttered bread. She crept to the table just behind them, slithered unnoticed into a chair, and pretended to eat while eavesdropping.

  “Where’s Master Gryphon?” she head Saul ask between bites. “I thought to see him today.”

  Garrett’s mood was unreadable. He dropped a long strip of smoked meat into his gullet and washed it down with a swig of cider. “Likely in his father’s tower, planning his affairs in the east. I expect not to see him until we leave.”

  Saul glanced over the platters, all brimming with food and covering the table from end to end. “Well…” he patted his belly. “I hoped he’d lead us away early. I don’t think I can take much more of this feasting. I’ve never eaten so well, not even in Lord Lumaur’s house.”

  “Consider us lucky,” said Garrett. “On the road, in the forest, food will be scarce. It will be naught but hard bread and warm water most days. Let us hope next year we are back here again, enjoying such feasts a
s this.”

  Saul’s demeanor turned grave. “Think we will? We’re soldiers, not diplomats. We’re not bringers of peace so much as the tip of Lord Emun’s spear. There may be war. Some of us might not return.”

  Garrett nodded. “It may be so.”

  The two sat in quiet, comfortable reflection, saying nothing more of their minds. As they stirred to leave, Andelusia glided between them and leaned over their shoulders. The light from a nearby brazier caught her just so. She looked as radiant as the dawn, her hair like fire, her eyes like emeralds.

  “And just where are you two going?” She smiled.

  “Ande?” Saul seemed surprised to see her. “Much to do today. No time for games.”

  “Games?” She knitted her brow. “No games. I came here to find you, but not for games. I have something important to ask. A favor, if you will hear it.”

  “A favor, eh?” Saul looked worried. “Your favors are usually trouble. But well and good. To the courtyard. Follow us.”

  The men pushed back their chairs and made toward the archway. As they strode into the courtyard outside, she moved behind them like a breeze, a creature with many secrets on her mind. Neither seemed bothered by her. Their minds are elsewhere, she knew.

  They walked into the morning, marching into the deep shadow cast by the keep wall. All around them the sunlight glittered merrily on the courtyard grass, but the two men leaned against the wall where it was darkest.

  “So…is it true you mean to leave?” She stood on the boundary of shadow and sunlight.

  Saul frowned. “How’d you hear that?”

  “You think me blind? Maybe deaf? I have nothing to do but flutter from place to place. I have heard things. I would ask why you did not tell me sooner, but I think I know the answer.”

  “It’s true,” Saul admitted. “We leave in a few days. To Mormist. Lord Gryphon’s command.”

  She looked to Garrett, expecting him to echo Saul’s answer. Garrett was dressed in black again, looking like a dark, dangerous spire casting his long shadow on the courtyard grass, but his expression was as calm as a passing cloud. She wondered if he knew what she was up to, but switched her smile back to Saul. “I need something from you,” she said. “And I need you to say yes. No other answer will do.”

  “Oh?” Saul’s eyes narrowed.

  “Yes.” She summoned her courage. “You are the only reason I survived to see Gryphon. I hope for your continued mercy.”

  Saul crossed his arms and grimaced. This will be a hard bargain, she thought. He is in a mood today.

  “What is it?” he asked. “Just say it. No sense in skirting.”

  After a deep breath and a long look at the curtain wall behind the two men, she exhaled. “When you go to Mormist, I want you to take me with you.”

  Saul went rigid, fixed where he stood as though turned to stone. He glanced at Garrett, seeking understanding, but found Garrett expressionless. “Why?” he asked.

  “My reasons are my own,” she said. “Take me with you. I will tell everything on the road.”

  “I can’t.” His answer came quicker than she hoped. “It’s not possible. This journey is not for you, Ande, nor for any woman. Gryphon is safe and the people good, but in the mountains there’re no such promises. Besides, I serve Lord Emun now. I’ve pledged my life to his cause. I can’t keep you as a ward. None of us can.”

  Her blood slowed in her body. Saul’s words felt like a dagger’s cold stroke. “I will not hinder you, I swear it.” She fought the urge to weep. “I will eat and drink nothing. I will be invisible. Please help me this one last time. Please…”

  She saw it in his face. His heartstrings tug at him. It took a long time for him to open his mouth again, longer still for anything to come out. “Ande, my dear, you ask too much. If you’re here when we return, I’ll take you to see the mountains, the sea, whatever you like, but you can’t come to Mormist. Our work is soldiers’ work. It’ll see us do things no woman should witness.”

  “But Saul,” she pried. “I am not like other girls. I am not just—”

  He waved her words off. His eyes became darker, less like a loving uncle’s and more like an angry father’s. She felt frightened to see him so. “No,” he said with finality. “I’m disappointed you would ask this of me. Of all the things…”

  He tore himself away from the wall, whirling and stomping off before she could utter another sound. She took three steps after him, but thought better of it. That went wretchedly, she lamented. Is my plan so foolish? I should have written him a letter. Symon always used to say ten words on paper are worth a hundred off the tongue.

  A long, hard silence crashed down upon her like a drowning rain. She hardly noticed Garrett had not moved.

  “I know why you want to go to Mormist.” He cracked the silence when it grew too deep. You are in love with Rellen.”

  His voice startled her. “I…I am not.” The lie slipped out too quickly.

  “You are,” he said. “Nothing to be ashamed of. When I saw you and Rellen in his father’s tower, I knew it would be so.”

  For the first time, she truly, deeply looked at Garrett. His grey eyes marked him as not from Graehelm, not from anywhere she knew. She fully expected his hard, dark countenance to fall across her, but she found him utterly sympathetic. She realized she had never before noticed the kindness in his eyes. “I…yes…yes of course I love him.” She smiled accidentally at her admission. “Before I met him, I was too consumed with myself to love anyone. But now…now is different.”

  “Rellen is the lord of our expedition,” he reasoned. “If you wish to follow, you might appeal to him directly.”

  “I already tried.” She let out a sad sigh. “He says this is how things are. Soldiers are not allowed to bring their women into battle, he told me, especially if they are common girls, like me. It is forbidden by the laws of Graehelm.”

  Garrett scratched the fine stubble on his hard, handsome chin. He seemed indifferent in one breath, yet compassionate in the next. “A shame for love to fall to the wayside of war.”

  “Yes…” She agreed unhappily.

  “You will need a new plan.”

  “Yes I will.” Her gaze sank lower. “I promised him I would wait, but…waiting is not one of my skills. How long can I stay here? A month, a year, a decade before my heart falls to pieces.”

  She felt odd in admitting so much. She knew several oaks in Grandwood far better than she knew Garrett. She hoped he would not judge her as harshly as Saul had. “I talk too much.” She lowered her head. “Sorry for that.”

  He did not seem bothered. For a long while, he retreated into the machine of his mind. She knew it by way he looked to the sky, the morning breeze touching all things except him and his black raiment.

  And then he looked upon her again, the grey in his gaze somehow softer. “Soldiers may be forbidden to bring a lady,” he said. “But I am no soldier.”

  She swept a lock of scarlet hair from her cheek. “Not a soldier? But Rellen told me you were. He said you would follow him into any battle.”

  He seemed amused. “I would. Still, I am no soldier. I joined with Rellen of my own free will, but I owe neither him nor his father my service. I do not believe in such permanent arrangements.”

  She shook her head. “What are you saying?”

  “You made it here all the way from Cairn. You are able to ride, I assume.”

  “Yes.”

  He looked down upon her. The shadow of the wall fell hard across his face, but she saw the gleam in his eyes. “Tomorrow I leave for Mormist,” he told her. “I mean to scout the land’s lay ahead of Rellen and his men. My better judgment warns me against it, but I would consider bringing you. Winter has come and gone, and I have seen the change in Rellen. This is your doing. You have given him new courage, new strength. He will need more of it before the end.”

  She did not believe what she was hearing. As if awakening from hibernation, her heart began to pound like a hammer against a
too-taut drum. She searched his eyes for deception, but found none. “You mean it?” She tried not to sound too eager. “You would take me to the mountains?”

  “I would be a poor friend if I ignored this.” He shrugged as though it were nothing. “Rellen needs you. This much I know.”

  She swallowed so hard it felt like a boulder tumbling down her throat. She felt like a child again, staring up at Garrett with wide, wondering eyes. “But how?”

  “My trek across the Dales will be swift,” he explained calmly. “I mean to gain a week’s lead of Rellen’s company. What this means to you is simple: If, in the morning, I should see you alone outside the eastern wall of the keep, well-rested, your pack filled with food and water, and no one trailing you with curious eyes, I might be persuaded to let you ride.”

  A smile erupted upon her lips. She wanted to embrace him, to wrap her arms around him, but she dared not. “Why?” She vibrated with happiness. “Why risk anything for me? I know I should not question it, but you and I are only strangers.”

  Garrett glanced to Rellen’s tower, its parapets gleaming, and gave her a look telling her this conversation had already happened in his mind. “You are a friend to my friend,” he said with maddening nonchalance. “I know the feelings he has for you. If you are with him, the burden of all that is to come will be lighter. They say the hearts of those who love cannot know fear. I have never experienced it, but I believe it for Rellen.”

  “You do?”

  “I do. And as you are Rellen’s, I swear no harm will come to you. You will not go hungry or cold. You will be as safe with me as with any twenty men. You will come to fear nothing. Mormist will not harm you, nor will I. All you must do is be prepared in the morning.”

  “So soon.” Her breath poured out of her lungs.

  He shrugged. “It is a hard decision. I will understand if you change your mind.”

  Words fell flat as flagstones on her tongue. She felt foolish for the way she looked at him, mouth hanging open and eyes wet with happiness. She threw her slender arms around him, planted the gentlest kiss upon his cheek, and backed away. “I will be there.” She mouthed the words more than she said them. “Thank you. I owe you everything.”