by C. J. Aaron
“Aye, Elias woke for a moment,” he spoke quietly. He focused on sounding as positive as possible. He saw the merchant’s eyes light up at the confirmation.
“That is a positive sign,” Aldren interrupted politely.
“That it is,” Ryl confirmed. “Though to be honest, I fear for his mind. His thoughts were jumbled. Disconnected. It was encouraging to see a glimpse of his true self again.”
Ryl hopped down from the wagon. His legs were sore from maintaining his hunched position in the cramped interior. He leaned forward, gently massaging his thighs. Aldren placed his hand gently on his back.
“Have hope, my friend,” the merchant advised. “Their road to recovery is surely long, but you've done more in the short time that I've known you than have most have in myths. You’ve pulled them from an impossible life. If there is a way to return them to a sense of normalcy, I have no doubt that you'll see it done.”
The statement was empowering. His morose thoughts had overtaken the one dogged feeling that had powered him through the cycles.
Hope.
He felt the familiar fire burning in his veins. Ryl accepted the destiny that his life had been unwillingly forced into.
The tributes.
The Lei Guard.
Could he set them all free?
Parents forced into the decision of selling their child or fleeing for their lives.
Could he effect the end of the age’s old doctrine?
The weight of destiny was heavy on his shoulders. The Stocks would fall first.
After that, if he had to raze every production facility in the land, he would do so.
The quiet clop of horseshoes on the hard-packed earthen road grew from both sides. Ryl surveyed the area with his eyes then his mindsight. There was no sign of any alexen other than his phrenic companions and the tributes within the range of his vision.
The sky above was clouded, the dimly glowing orb of the moon diffused through the layer of wispy clouds hanging overhead. They'd stopped in a wide turn off that separated from the main road. Short, leafy trees lined both sides of narrow path, providing partial cover should wandering eyes still travel the road. Andr appeared through the darkness from the west, and shortly after Dav materialized from the east.
“The rest will be here shortly,” Dav stated quietly. “I waited for them at the intersection. The road has been free of incident for them.”
Ryl was unsurprised by the comment. There was little reason for any to interfere with the Lei Guard as they traveled. The black carriage was a clear giveaway as to their purpose. Even if there were those who knew not the black riders at the head of the wagon, their ominous look was sure to give pause and a wide berth.
“We'll wait for the others and then make for the farm,” Andr announced as he slipped from his horse.
“Aye. The hour isn't yet too late, and the road remaining is short.” Aldren chimed in. “I doubt Geshill will refuse us assistance. If he does, it won’t take a king’s ransom to buy his silence.”
Ryl felt a lingering worry at the comment from the merchant. Aldren was adamant that his associate’s vehement hatred of the system that had stolen his sister from him could not be diminished. Would he set his feelings aside if enough gold was thrown his way? If they needed to buy their way in, could they just as easily be sold out? The look on his face must have given away his anxious contemplation, even in the dim light of their lanterns.
“Your face can be easy to read when not covered by a hood, my young friend,” Aldren admitted with a smile. “He’d rather die than sell out to anyone connected with the Kingdom or guards. Your companions and your secrets will be safe with him.”
“My apologies for doubting, Aldren,” Ryl confessed. “By and large, my experiences with Damaris and the population have been colored by hatred and far from positive. I’ve seen firsthand the worst depravity that humanity has to offer. Only recently have my eyes been opened to see the good that still exists in the Kingdom.”
“There is no need for you to apologize, Ryl,” the merchant lamented. “Perhaps much more has changed outside the walls while you’ve been locked away?”
“Perhaps. I can only hope your words are true,” Ryl said. “How far are we from Geshill’s and Milstead now?
Aldren put his hand on Ryl’s shoulder giving it a healthy, fatherly squeeze.
“It’s less than ten miles to the heart of Milstead. Geshill’s is less than half that,” he replied. “Come, there is an overlook just through these trees. See for yourself.”
The merchant turned quickly, leading the way from the wagon for a short distance before turning left and entering a small trail through the trees. Ryl and Andr followed closely in his wake. Kaep leaned against the back frame of the carriage as they departed, maintaining a vigilant watch over Elias and the tributes. Dav remained as the lone sentry, patrolling the quiet offshoot for the approach of their companions or any others.
The narrow, rocky path wound its way through the forest before abruptly ending on the head of a large flat stone. The road they’d traveled ran across the top of a long ridgeline. The land in front of them sloped downward for perhaps thirty meters before continuing in rolling hills and patches of forests.
“The lights you see to the west are that of Milstead,” Aldren explained as he pointed his hand outward to their right. Though it was well after dark, the village that spread out in the distance looked far larger than Serrate. The streets leading into the settlement were lit by evenly spaced torches. From this distance, their flickering beacons betrayed very few details through the darkness. The main square however, was brightly illuminated by the steady light of multiple lanterns.
“That large building you see there,” Aldren continued. “That’s Milstead’s pride and joy. The distillery. Some of the highest priced spirits in all the Kingdom come from that building. Strangely enough, there’s very little farmland around here. If the rumors are correct, I have a feeling you may have been personally responsible for growing a fair share of the grain they use.”
Ryl nodded his head but said nothing. Sub-master Millis had confirmed the fact when they’d shared a bottle of potent liquor. He could still feel the heat of the liquid as it coated his throat, spreading its warmth throughout his body once it reached his stomach.
The memory was mildly cathartic. He’d valued the short yet meaningful bond he’d created with the sub-master and captain.
His thoughts turned to Millis and to Captain Le’Dral. He intended to put on a show the likes of which the Harvest had never seen. He aimed for it to be a fitting finale to the ceremony’s existence. Yet, what would they do when he arrived?
Would they stand in his way? Would they lead their troops into battle or would they cede The Stocks without a fight?
Ryl quickly returned his wandering mind back to the present. There were no simple answers to his questions. Though in his mind it was merely a matter of right from wrong, he understood that for others there was no cut and dry solution. The decision he’d soon be asking them to make would have wide reaching implications. They bore the potential to affect the course of a Kingdom. Their lives, their family’s lives, could hang in the balance of their actions.
Aldren continued his description, breaking him from his momentary thoughts.
“That small grouping of lights directly in front of us, those are the lights of Geshill’s farm,” the merchant pointed out. “In the distance, those pinpoints of light on the horizon … those are the eastern Palisades.”
Ryl rapidly catalogued the sights before him. He closed his eyes, searching the surroundings again with his mindsight. All was still to his front. Behind them, he noted the faint appearance of two additional signatures.
“Thank you, Aldren,” he said genuinely. “Let’s head back, the second wagon draws near.”
Aldren gave him a curious look as if wondering how he’d known of their imminent arrival. The night was still quiet, no noise of the wagon or the horses had yet reached their ears
. In the end, the merchant just shrugged his shoulders, leading the way with his lantern held out in front of him.
As they reached the road, the sound of the approaching companions met their ears. The even cadence of the horses’ gait grew steadily as they hastened back to their wagon. The lantern suspended from the front of the black wagon swung slowly in the darkness. The ominous black figures of Ramm and Vox were illuminated by a swaying halo of light.
The wagon pulled to a stop to the rear of Aldren’s. Ramm and Vox eagerly swung down from the head, stretching as they hit the ground. It had been a long day of travel for all, and they were yet to finish. It was only a matter of moments later that Dav and Nielix approached from the darkened road behind them. Soldi hopped down from the back of the wagon, walking stiffly as he followed the phrenics to the rest of their group.
“Welcome, friends,” Aldren announced as they met alongside his wagon. “Our day’s journey is almost done.”
Vox muttered something unintelligible under his breath as the merchant continued.
“We make for Geshill’s farm,” he reiterated. “Once you join with the main road, it’s only a mile or so before you reach the turnoff to the left that will lead you to his doorstep.”
“We’ll maintain the same groups. Hold your position out of sight until our welcome has been assured. Dav will return for you when it’s safe,” Andr dictated. “It shouldn’t be long now.”
“Aye,” Ramm grumbled. “What of the riders you met on the road?”
“Hunters,” Ryl spat. “They stalk a girl and her father. They fled your arrival. One was injured, but they hunt for a living. They’ll not rest if they think their prey moves under the cover of darkness.”
“Injured, you say?” Vox added with a smile. “How’d that happen?”
Ryl responded with a crooked grin and a slight shake of his head.
“Stay alert,” Ryl warned. “For hunters, and the runaways.”
“Aye, Ryl,” Ramm responded.
“Let us make haste,” Aldren said anxiously. “I long for a warm meal and a comfortable seat.”
The group quickly bade their farewells after their brief reunion. Ryl, as he was sure they all did, shared the same sentiment as the merchant. A warm meal and a night spent out of the confines of the wagon was a welcomed proposition.
Ryl rode next to Aldren as they spurred the wagon forward. Andr led the caravan until they reached the turnoff that would lead them to Geshill’s door. He waited, alert at the intersection, nodding silently as they passed. He would resume his vigilant watch at their rear with Dav. The pair would remain unseen, yet within sight of the wagon as Aldren made his introductions and pled for his friend’s assistance.
The track that led from the main road was rough. Its surface was well traveled yet lacked the smoothed contours of the main road they’d just exited. After leaving the seclusion of the tree lined ridge, the woods around them grew sparse. Tall, wild grasses swayed in the breeze to either side, and short shrubs dotted the landscape. Ryl’s attention was focused on their surroundings. There was still ample cover should the hunters, or bandits, be lying in wait.
He studied the surroundings with all his senses, thankfully finding nothing out of the ordinary.
It wasn't long before the natural grassy boundaries on either side of the narrow road were replaced by ones of stone and wood. The enticing lights from the farm flickered in the distance, drawing the road weary travelers onward. The scattered bleating of sheep echoed through the night.
Ryl pulled his hood up over his head. The brands on his neck, though he'd accepted their appearance, were sure to cause undue reaction in Damaris.
Fenced off fields spread out on either side of the road, stretching off into the black of the night. Ahead of them, the houses of Geshill's farm grew steadily closer.
The farmhouse was a wide, single story building. A long, covered porch wrapped around the front and side. Small lanterns were hung from either side of what appeared to be the main door. Ryl could see light spilling out from the shuttered windows along the front of the building, though he saw no note of movement from within.
To the left of the house, a large barn connected with the fence of the closest pasture. A grand set of sliding doors dominated the front of the stable. A pair of empty wagons rested alongside the fence beside the massive doors.
“This property seems immense,” Ryl broke the silence of their travel. “Does Geshill live here alone?”
“Aye, Ryl. That he does,” the merchant replied. “His wife's long since deceased and his children are full grown. He has two daughters, the youngest of which was married last cycle. Both work as seamstresses in Milstead last I heard. He brings in hired labor from the town, but they don't reside here on his property. He'll hire an army when it comes time to shear the sheep, but that won't happen for moons.”
They exited the confines of the path into a wide clearing that spanned the distance between Geshill's house and the stable. Aldren drove his wagon into the area, pulling it sideways ten meters or so from the side of his house.
“Come now, let's go meet my friend,” Aldren said as he stifled at small yawn. “The hour’s not yet late enough that we shouldn't still be greeted with a warm welcome.”
Ryl heard the noise before he saw it. For the briefest of moments the high-pitched song of an arrow broke the quiet of the night. His body reacted instantly, calling on the power that lurked within.
He dove to his left, away from the house, grabbing ahold of Aldren. Ryl hardened the woodskin on his back and side as they pitched from the side of the wagon. The murderous projectile bit deep into the wood of the driver’s seat.
Chapter 8
Ryl and Aldren spilled over the edge of the wagon as the arrow buried itself into the wood. The solid thunk of the impact echoed through the quiet night.
The merchant hit the ground hard with a groan that was more shock than pain. Ryl landed in a controlled roll, rapidly gaining his feet, dragging the writhing body of Aldren back behind the relative safety of the wagon wheel. A second arrow slammed into the wooden side of the carriage.
Ryl heard Kaep moving quickly inside the cramped confines of the interior. In the distance the thunder of hooves heralded the rapid approach of Andr and Dav.
“Curse you, you butchers,” the voice screamed from the shadows of the houses. “I thought I made it perfectly clear. I want no part in your murders.”
The third whistle of an arrow ended with a resounding thud as it buried itself in the wood of the wagon. Kaep slipped from the rear flap, bow in hand, arrow knocked ready to be fired.
“What happened to a warm welcome?,” Ryl hissed. “Is that Geshill firing on us?”
Aldren struggled to his feet, gingerly rubbing his left arm. He'd landed hard after Ryl had dragged him from the wagon.
“Aye, that's him,” the merchant admitted.
He shuffled to the end of the wagon, peering around the corner waving his hands in surrender.
“Geshill, you old fool!” Aldren’s frantic call sounded through the quiet night. "Lay down your weapon. You're shooting at friends.”
Ryl saw the reflections of moonlight flash off the steel of their naked blades as Andr and Dav reached the courtyard.
“Aldren?” the faceless archer called out. “Is that you?”
“That it is, my friend,” the merchant said as he stepped out from behind the wagon. Both his arms were raised in the air.
Kaep followed in his shadow, her hood up, an arrow drawn back ready to loose at a moment’s notice. Ryl followed close behind her. Andr and Dav were both off their horses, crouching carefully behind their flanks for protection.
From the shadows of the right side of porch that wrapped around the building the figure of the archer materialized as it stepped into the low light of the lanterns. An arrow was still nocked though the bow was pointed casually toward the ground.
Ryl saw the man tense, his body freezing in place at the scene in front of him.
/> “What's the meaning of this, my friend?” the archer inquired.
“I could ask you the same thing, Geshill,” Aldren replied. “I know the hour is getting late. I hope this isn't how you greet all visitors who come knocking on your door.”
Aldren lowered his hands to his side, striding forward toward the armed farmer. Ryl watched as the man's deadly resolve faded. He laid the bow down on the steps, approaching Aldren with a steady stride.
The two met with a firm, lengthy handshake. Geshill's eyes roved the courtyard, pausing briefly as they came to rest on the pair of armed soldiers and two cloaked and hooded figures that trailed in his wake.
“Tis an unusual hour for a visit, and even more unusual company you keep,” Geshill said suspiciously.
“That's the second time today the company I keep has been questioned,” Aldren relayed. His hand fell as he inadvertently rubbed at his left arm. “I apologize for the late hour. I assure you; I wouldn't have come if the need wasn't dire.”
The suspicion written across the farmer’s face seemed to evaporate with the statement. His demeanor changed to that of worry as he noted the merchant wince in pain as he massaged his left arm.
“Come, friend. We'll talk inside,” Geshill announced. “Let's have a look at that arm of yours.”
The farmer gently wrapped his hand around the back of Aldren, carefully ushering him toward his house. He turned his head back, briefly back catching the eyes of Ryl and his companions.
“Your friends are welcome too,” Geshill announced sympathetically. “The misunderstanding was mine; you'll need no more weapons here. Any friend of Aldren's is a friend of mine.”
With a nod of her head, Kaep lowered her bow.
“Stay with the wagon,” Ryl whispered as he followed slowly behind the merchant and farmer.
Ryl watched as Andr slid his sword back into his sheath, giving a hushed command to Dav before leading his own horse quickly in his direction of the house. The Vigil mounted his horse, quickly melting into black of the night beyond the light of the lanterns.