Rising from Dust (Light from Aphelion Book 1)

by Carlsson, Martine

  The forests had made a place for golden fields and green prairies. They had probably been spotted, but it was not sure that the enemy would understand their motives. Selen hoped that no army rode on them from the south. He had sent scouts to explore the way ahead and waited impatiently for their return.

  Nightfall came. Selen ordered a short break to let the horses rest a while. He wanted them to act quickly, but he did not want to kill the poor beasts. They had not bothered to carry tents or materials. Each man had the responsibility to tend to his needs. Selen had also forbidden them to light any fire. In such an open range, their moves would be spotted easily. In his previous life, Selen had heard of ferocious tribes of riders launching raids on cities and strategic points. It was exactly what he meant to do, apart from the fact that he was all but ferocious.

  He heard noises in the night. The scouts were back. He headed to them.

  “We have seen the dam, my captain!” one of the men exclaimed. “There is an army of orcs guarding it.”

  “What of their strength?” Selen inquired.

  “We could not see the whole of them, but I would say inferior to us. Yet, the dam is high. They have the advantage.”

  “Is there anything we can use to hide our approach? Forest, bushes?” The worst would be to progress in the open, with the orcs archers aiming at them.

  “There are woods in the valley and on the slopes of the hills.”

  “Good. Do you think you can make the way back in the middle of the night?” Selen asked.

  “I can, my captain. It’s right ahead along the river. The orcs are too confident. There are no sentinels.”

  “Give your horse a rest. We depart in a few hours,” Selen said.

  The gorges were narrow. The basin and the bottoms of the hills were covered with lobe-leaved trees, which, with the altitude, gave way to pine trees. The tops of the hills were bare and rocky. Patches of snow glittered on the summit.

  It was an arch dam. The size of it was breathtaking. A long lake spread on the other side. Its deep blue water shimmered in the sunlight. The slopes rose steeply above the water’s surface. Selen thought that the dam was probably used to irrigate the fields in the plains. It was also a perfect reservoir to supply water to Nysa Serin during the dry season.

  “The horses would have never made it,” Selen said, observing the site. He was glad to have left their mounts in the woods before the gorges. Only men on foot could climb such slopes.

  Orcs bustled about everywhere on the dam like industrious ants. They had not pierced through yet. The foul creatures hung scaffoldings and ropes on the wall. They planned to weaken the structure at different places.

  “If the dam explodes, everything along the river will be destroyed,” Selen muttered. He turned to the captains. “I want you to divide your forces into three groups. Two to climb on each side and one to form a rear line, which will block the way in the basin and shoot at the orcs hanging on the ropes. The beasts may be expecting us, so walk warily and try to take them from above,” Selen said, forming a semicircle with his hand. “And remember. No prisoners.” After all they had done, none of these beasts deserved pity.

  They all rose. The captains departed to take their positions. Selen knew he had a special task to undertake. This time, he would not let the monster escape.

  Selen led the group on the eastern slope. He and his men jogged long through the woods, holding on to branches and roots, hopping on boulders like goats. The soldiers climbed as high as they could to the edge of the forest and the pines. When they reached the level of the lake, Selen raised his hand to give the signal to run down towards the dam. The slope was so abrupt that it was hard not to stumble forward. As he saw the first orcs, Selen drew out his sword. The men around him screamed wildly. The hunt began. For once, the predator was the prey.

  The first line of orcs, taken by surprise, retreated in panic. Selen’s soldiers crashed on them like a wave. Selen knew that on the other side of the dam, four hundred men blocked the only way out. He swirled his swords and hacked, pushing the enemy nearer to the lake or to the precipice. Orcs stampeded and jumped into the water, where they drowned.

  “Force the orcs downhill!” Selen shouted. “Towards our lines!”

  While the majority of the men rushed down in pursuit, Selen and a party halted by the dam’s crest. From the bridge, orcs shot arrows at their men in the basin. In the middle of the line of filthy creatures stood Kraalh. Selen repressed the fright he felt having to face such a greenish monstrosity. He thought of all the dead bodies the orcs had left; he thought of the children. He was not used to feeling hate, but the hate he had awakened towards the orcs was beyond measure.

  While his men engaged against the orcs, Selen climbed onto the rim of the bridge and brandished his sword towards the general, challenging him.

  “Kraalh!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

  Kraalh gazed in his direction, wrinkling his nose. With a deafening roar, the beast raised his axe high. Selen jumped on the crest and raced forward, pushing aside the last enemies still standing. Kraalh rushed from the other side, his feet pounding on the ground.

  The two opponents reached the middle of the crest. Kraalh spun his axe towards him in a killing arc. His black braids and loincloth flapped in the wind. Selen bent at the knees and dodged low. With the speed, his greaves grated against the stone. He grazed the ground with his back and saw the blade pass over him. He jumped up and moved right.

  “Where are you going, little squirrel?” the general brawled. He rotated his axe and cleft the crest in a savage blow a few inches from Selen, who stumbled. The stone exploded into grit.

  Selen got up and noticed that he was trapped. He could not circle the huge orc on such a narrow bridge. He would have to wait for an opening and enter the orc’s reach, if he could wait that long. Compared to the axe, his sword looked like a toy in his hand. To try to block the blows would be madness. The axe crushed the stone again, this time on his left. Selen rolled in the dirt.

  “You can’t escape me, wench!” Kraalh shouted. “Soon you will be mine!”

  Selen’s eyes narrowed. “I will kill you! As I killed Xruul!” he shouted at the revolting thing towering over him.

  “Xruul was my son!” Kraalh yelled and threw his axe.

  Selen avoided the blow but hit the rim hard with his chest. “A stupid, ugly son,” he replied, coughing.

  “I will chain you as my bed slave, she-knight. We will then see how proud you will be,” the general growled with fury. The axe swirled.

  Selen saw the opening. He jumped towards Kraalh’s legs with his sword high and cut the flesh on the left thigh.

  Kraalh roared. “I will tame you.” The orc turned around, limping. “And if you can’t be tamed, I will impale you, like all the others,” he groaned.

  He is slow, Selen thought, strong, but slow. Selen felt his heart race. He was getting exhausted. He had to win, now. The blade of the axe fell behind him, blocking the way. Kraalh staggered. The general raised his muscular arms for another blow. Selen saw the move, jumped along Kraalh’s arm, a foot on the heavy axe’s blade, and stabbed the orc through the shoulder with his sword. Kraalh roared in pain but still stood up, with Selen hanging on his shoulder. Selen’s gauntlet was fastened on the hilt. He tried to pull his sword out. His limbs, clenched around the orc’s torso, kicked and punched. His face had never been so close to Kraalh’s. He looked into his shiny, nasty, black eyes and gulped. The orc’s strong jaws opened, the long fangs bending in his direction.

  “Is it your dagger you want, pretty girl?” Kraalh asked. His breath had the strong odor of apple mixed with the acrid smell of sweat. The orc put his right hand on the hilt over Selen’s hand.

  “I will kill you,” Selen whispered. Tears of rage blurred his vision.

  Kraalh pulled the sword out of his shoulder and hurled Selen against the rim in gushes of slimy blood. Selen screamed in pain as his back hit the stone.

  “Fool! No bitch will ki
ll me!” the general yelled.

  Ignoring the throbbing ache in his back, Selen squatted. “Good news, I’m a man.” He stretched, dipped, and jumped. As his body flew in an aerial cartwheel, his foot hit Kraalh violently in the throat.

  Kraalh raised his arms as he stumbled backwards, but he grabbed only thin air. The orc fell over the rim, down the precipice.

  Selen landed back on the bridge, a few inches from falling into the lake on the other side. He got up and looked down. All he saw of Kraalh was a greenish-black heap. Selen cleared his throat and spat. He looked around. The men downhill raised their swords to him and shouted. He hailed them back. They had won.

  “We can cross the plains, my love,” he whispered. His hate was gone.

  CHAPTER 51

  The smell of burning wood spread on for miles. As radical as it had sounded, Lissandro had approved Louis’s decision. Lissandro was a child of darkness. In his world, fire was the only way of purification, and he knew too well how much this place had needed to be cleansed.

  They had headed east along the main road. The first rays of sun shone a light on their condition. The men were shaggy and dirty, especially Louis and his party. Furthermore, they all looked exhausted. Lissandro rode alongside Louis.

  “As soon as I see a brook or whatever running water, we take a break. I’m so grubby that it gives me a headache,” Louis said. “Then, I want to hear all about your journey. I am so relieved to know you are all right.” His friend smiled at him, half of his face mucked up with brownish bloodstains.

  They stopped by a river a few miles ahead. The horses were brought together and wood was gathered for campfires. The dirtiest soldiers strolled to the river and washed in the cold, fresh water. Though he was their captain, Louis mingled with his men. Lissandro went with Kilda upstream where she could have some privacy, away from all those naked men.

  They found a nice spot with grassy slopes and a small, stone beach. Lissandro sat on the green grass and faced the forest while Kilda undressed and bathed. She had stayed silent since their departure.

  “Would you like to stay with us in the Rebellion? I can ask Louis if it’s what you wish,” Lissandro proposed.

  “Do you think they will accept me?” she asked, worried.

  “Considering the way you killed Elye, I would say that no man would dare to mess with you now,” he laughed.

  Kilda chuckled. “Was Louis the man you waved at in Embermire? I thought the man looked different.”

  “It wasn’t Louis I saw in Embermire but my friend, Selen. There is no doubt Selen will stand in your favour to stay with us.” Lissandro thought that if someone could understand Kilda, it would be Selen.

  “You can take my place. I’m done bathing,” she said. He heard the splashes of water as she walked towards the beach.

  Lissandro undressed and went to the river while Kilda dried herself on the shore.

  Once they were clean and dressed, they headed back to the bivouac.

  They sat by a fire at the edge of the group. Lissandro still felt like an outsider and did not dare to socialize with the soldiers.

  Louis came to them. His skin was white again. His hair dried and fell wild about his shoulders. His half-open, wet shirt stuck to his skin, but Lissandro guessed that his friend did not want to present himself bare-chested in front of a lady. The sight made Lissandro blush, and he looked at Kilda instead. She had turned her face towards him and her cheeks were flushed. Kilda noticed his uneasiness and laughed heartily. Lissandro was glad to hear her laugh.

  “I’m glad you both are in such a bright mood,” Louis said. He sat down cross-legged in front of them. “Now, tell me what happened to you.”

  “To make it short, after I lost you, I wandered through the Ebony Forest for days until I found Kilda,” Lissandro said, “or to be exact, until Kilda took me as her prisoner. She brought me to a bandit camp to exchange me for a ransom.” Lissandro saw Louis’s gaze turn hard. “But she is not a bad person!” Lissandro exclaimed. “She was fooled by the bandits. She thought they wanted to help the population. Once she learned the truth, she freed me and we ran away together. Unfortunately, we got captured by Elye.” Lissandro leaned towards his friend. “There is something more of great importance, but I think I should develop it once we arrive at the camp. Selen must learn about it too.” A shadow crossed over his friend’s face. “What? Has something happened to Selen?”

  “No!” Louis exclaimed. “I hope not. He went on a mission against the orcs in the east. This is why I want to be back as soon as possible.”

  “I understand,” Lissandro said. He saw that his friend was anxious and changed the conversation. “How is it that you ended up commanding an army?”

  “I do not command the army. I am only a captain. Bertrant is in charge of the Rebellion. We thought joining this army was the only solution to progress through the country. Now that we have seen what this land has been through, we have to win the war. We have already freed Millhaven. Now, the army marches on Nysa Serin. A decisive battle awaits.” While Louis spoke, Folc came towards them and sat by the fire.

  “I have missed so much,” Lissandro said, overwhelmed by the events.

  “You are safe and with us. That is the most important. You will fight by our side,” Louis said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “Louis, I must ask. Can my friend Kilda join us in the Rebellion?” Lissandro asked with an appealing look.

  Louis was silent for a moment as if he pondered the idea. “I have forbidden women in the camp. Yet, it was mainly to prevent prostitution. Your friend is a warrior, if I can say so, and you owe her your life.”

  “I want to fight for our land. Besides, I have nowhere else to go,” Kilda said in her favour.

  “Your wish is legitimate. Maybe as long as you keep your armour on and stay in your tent most of the time,” Louis said. Lissandro saw that he was still uneasy. “I don’t want you to create trouble. The men may feel provoked.”

  “With what she did to Elye?” Lissandro intervened.

  “Yes, I know. I had Selen do…” Louis interrupted himself. “But it’s not only up to me. I will have to talk to Bertrant.”

  “Come on. You can nag him into having her in,” Folc added. “Don’t search for excuses.”

  Louis frowned. He did not appreciate the boy’s tone, yet he did not reprimand Folc.

  Louis sighed. “All right. She can come.” Lissandro grinned at Kilda and felt Louis pull him up by the arm. “Now, I would have a word with you.” His friend dragged him further away.

  “Dear one?” Louis’s narrow eyes were sharp as a blade. Lissandro had forgotten that detail. He squirmed.

  “I may have had a light moment of weakness at the darkest hour…” Lissandro muttered, looking at the waving grass around his feet.

  “How much does she know?” Louis asked, exasperated.

  “All…about me. She does not know about our death, our quest or…” Lissandro looked at his friend. “But I think we can trust her,” he hurried to say.

  “How well do you know her?”

  “I know her husband died fighting with the Rebellion, that she wants to avenge him, and that she hates Lord Pembroke of Embermire.” Lissandro saw Louis’s face fall.

  “Pembroke is right here alongside Bertrant at the head of the Rebellion,” Louis hissed, grabbing his arm. “What if I bring her there and she kills him? And what if I tell her I won’t take her along, and she makes a scandal about what you are? Do you have any idea how hard I have worked here? You imbecile!”

  Lissandro stayed silent. He knew how deeply he had screwed up. “I’m sorry,” was all he could say.

  Louis calmed down. “You could not have known. I will talk to her.”

  They went back to the fire where Folc and Kilda sat, chatting together. Louis knelt down. “Kilda. Pembroke is one of the commanders of the Rebellion. Whatever the grievance you have against him, if you kill him, you endanger all of us.” Louis gestured with his hand. “The boy, my
friends, and I. Not to mention the chaos it will create in the camp. Be sure I won’t let that happen.” Lissandro thought that she understood.

  “I hate the count with all my strength, but I will be eternally grateful to Lissandro and to you for rescuing me. I can wait until the war takes him,” she said, sounding sincere, “but I will not fight for him.”

  “No one fights for a lord here. We fight for our country,” Louis replied. He got up and went back to his soldiers.

  “Did I put you in trouble?” Kilda asked.

  “I don’t know, but it’s not your fault,” Lissandro said. “Come. Let’s pack our horses.”

  The Rebellion had marched southwards and had set the camp north of the Eryas Lowlands. When Lissandro and his group arrived, the tents were already pitched, the flaps clapping in the sharp wind. Louis dismissed the men and rode to the headquarters with Lissandro, Kilda, and Folc.

  “It seems your expedition was a success!” a jovial, overweight man, that Lissandro supposed to be Bertrant, exclaimed, coming to them.

  “We freed the men, Commander. Elye is dead,” Louis answered. “I come back with an old friend and his companion. I considered they could be good recruits.”

  Bertrant gazed at them. “I don’t want to misjudge your perception, Louis,” Bertrant said, doubtful, “but you are conscious that one of them is a woman, a real woman?”

  “I’m not blind,” Louis sighed. “She is, above all, a warrior. She killed Elye.” Louis held Bertrant’s look.

  “Your rules…” Bertrant insisted.

  “Do you really think someone could confound this woman with a prostitute?”