by Ijaz, Usman
“Have you had any word from Hamar?” Aeiron asked.
“Not since the last, your highness, before they left Port Hope.”
Aeiron sighed inside. He hadn’t expected much, but it was difficult to be unaware of what was happening. They had sent their plan rolling into motion, now they waited to see if it would succeed or veer off course and crumble. The halls they walked were pure white with bass carvings and paintings of scenes from the Great Book along the walls. Sunlight poured in through the fluted colonnades along the outer wall. From outside and below came the sounds of a bustling city, sweetened by the calls of birds in the gardens filling the air.
Aeiron stopped and walked out onto one of the balconies that interrupted the colonnade. The wind immediately tugged at his velvet cloak, and made him glad for the thick garb he wore. It didn’t matter to him how much silk he wore or how much thread-of-gold it was sewn with as long as it did its job and kept him warm. This day he was dressed in an elegant white coat and breeches, both of which he would have gladly traded for something closer to Nemar’s simple garb if it wasn’t expected of him to dress so. He leaned forward on the balustrade, and watched the guards on patrol below. There were two Legionnaires among the regular guardsmen. Aeiron could pick them out easily though they all wore white uniforms. The Legionnaires walked with an assured calmness, a confidence in their skills. He looked to the east, towards the Legion Compound that lay well away from the city. It was there that raw recruits would be pushed to their limits, deal with their strict teachers, and with one another. There they would be weeded out even further, until only a few remained, and perhaps of those few some Legionnaires would emerge. What stopped many from graduating was the test in the Forest of Trials, but the tests were the same for everyone and he would not make it easier for any of them. Aeiron wanted his Legion to be filled only with capable and superb men.
“How many other countries have Legions of their own, Nemar?” Aeiron asked.
Nemar thought on it a moment. “In Cahrad, only Grandal and Arath-Dar, though there seems to be talk that Teihr might soon start one. Xian-Anoura had a Legion once, but it fell apart, as you know. In Naban ... I believe three countries, my lord.”
“And do you believe that a small group of men can protect an entire country?” Aeiron asked with subtle calmness in his voice.
“Perhaps, your highness...,” Nemar said cautiously. “But the Legion also inspires courage and patriotism in others.”
Aeiron said nothing. His seer was right, of course; the Legion inspired others to believe in their country. It was why he had created the Legion within only a year and a half of his rise to the throne, though everyone around him had advised him against it. Still watching the guards below, his voice still calm, he asked Nemar, “And how much faith do you have in our Legion?”
“They uphold this country under your leadership, your highness. Grandal’s Legion is known to be among the hardest group of men anywhere in the world. It is why no one dares to try and invade us.”
Our army might also have something to do with that, Aeiron thought wryly. “Do you believe then that three men of the Legion are enough to carry out what I have placed upon them?”
Nemar remained quiet as he fought to think of a reply. Aeiron could see the seer trying to state what he believed in an acceptable manner.
“Perhaps,” said Nemar at last. He licked his lips. “If I may ask, your highness, why only send three to guard the child?”
Aeiron suddenly felt too weary for talk. He had gone over this very question countless times in his mind. He let out a tired sigh. “Because too many would have been noticed sooner. We both know that there are spies in Grandal, spies for Fuilla, for Gregory, for Jerome, and for every other king and queen and lord that gets it in his mind that he wants to learn what is happening here. They have their spies, and we have ours. But this is too important a task to let the others know about and possibly damn us all. You can’t know how many nights I spent waking, wondering whether to tell the others of what the Krillen had shown us. In the end I based my judgment on my heart. So I sent three; where more would have been noticed and remarked, three seemed enough to guard the boy and seem inconspicuous.”
“I see,” Nemar said, deep in thought. “And what of King Robert, your highness? Did you decide to tell him? We could use Teihr’s aid in this.”
Aeiron kept his silence for several moments as he conferred on his doubts. “I sent a letter once Hamar and Owain had left, explaining to Robert everything the Krillen had shown us. He is the only other king I can think of who might be willing to do the right thing and not plot his own rise to greatness ... and yet for all that I still wonder if I am in right in telling him.” But then, am I right in withholding this information from the rest of the world?
Nemar smiled grimly. “If the plan succeeds, you’ll certainly be remembered as the greatest king the world has ever seen.”
“I want no such thing!” Aeiron replied, more harshly than he had intended to, and unable to lower his voice. “I never wanted any such thing.” Do you think it was my decision to take the throne? But what other choice did I have when Edward fell and broke his fool neck, thrusting the burden onto me?
Nemar licked his lips and wrung his hands. “I ... I see, your--”
“I want you to go to the Krillen and stay there until it shows you something,” interrupted Aeiron. “Then send for me. Until then I have no need of you. Go, Nemar.”
The man bowed and left hastily.
Aeiron stopped by one of the fluted columns and watched the large city sprawled out all around him. In continuing in his father’s reign he had carved the largest kingdom of all the others. He had created one of the most formidable armies Cahrad had seen, and created a host that was revered even in the lands of his enemies for their skills. And yet all of that did not matter now. What mattered was that the nations needed to be united, yet he knew that they would fight and deceit one another as much as ever, hoping to gain an inch more of power. Jayne sometimes told him that what made him different was that he repented the desire for more power, and ironically it came to him nonetheless.
He shook his head to clear it of such thougths. Hamar and Owain had been sensible choices, but Alexis had been chosen tactfully, more for his contacts in Teihr than any other reason. Aeiron wasn’t a gambling man, nor did he wholly approve of it in others, but one of the gambler’s favorite axioms came to him then;
I’ve thrown the dice, now to see how they land.
Chapter 9
Into the Woods
1
Connor winced in pain as branches scratched at his face and arms. Alexis held his arm in a vice and pulled him and Adrian deeper into the woods at a relentless pace. Connor stumbled on a root and nearly fell. He thought in the Legionnaire’s current state Alexis would have just dragged him along if he fell, and not even noticed. His sides were cramping painfully with every step. They had been running now for what he judged the better part of the morning, with few breaks in between. What frightened him was the worry that seemed to drive the Legionnaire.
“Alexis ... we ... need to stop”. His breath came out harsh and labored.
Alexis didn’t seem to hear him. He glanced behind them and continued to pull them through the thick foliage of the woods.
“Alexis! We need to ... stop!” Connor shouted. This time the Legionnaire seemed to hear him. He stopped and looked from Connor to Adrian.
“All right,” he said at last. “We’ll stop for a little while.”
Connor saw how Alexis’s hands lingered by his sides now that they were free, as if he wanted to reach for his guns at any moment.
“What happened back there?” Adrian asked breathlessly.
Alexis checked the woods behind them, then looked at the two boys and shook his head. “I don’t know. We were caught in an ambush.”
“Ambush? For who?” Connor asked.
Alexis said nothing.
“They were after me, weren’t they?�
� Adrian asked the Legionnaire, his eyes clear with understanding.
“Yes. We weren’t the only ones searching for you, it would seem.”
“What about Hamar and Owain?” Adrian asked.
“What of them?” Alexis asked in a flat tone.
“What if they’re dead?”
“They’re better Legionnaires than I am,” Alexis said. “They can take care of themselves. We’ll meet up with them soon enough. Or in Gale.”
“We’re going to Gale?” Connor said.
Alexis studied the woods behind them as he answered. “Yes, and then ... different lands.”
“How can you say that?” Adrian demanded. “They were your friends, and you act as if you don’t even care if they are alive or dead!”
Alexis let out a deep breath and spoke restrained patience. “Hamar, Owain and I came looking for you because we were sent to guide you to the Source. It was our duty, given to us by king Aeiron, and we swore an oath to take you to it, or die trying. I don’t know where Hamar and Owain are, but that still leaves me to carry out our duty and uphold our oath.”
“Is that all this is about then?” Adrian asked. “Your damned oath?”
Alexis closed his eyes. “If you only knew what we fight for.”
“Then why not tell me?” Adrian demanded. “I think you’ve kept enough secrets so far.”
Alexis looked back the way they had come. “Now is not the time. For now we only have to get as far away from Haven as we can, and hope we’re not being followed.”
The Legionnaire started off and the boys followed. They continued their headlong plunge into the woods.
2
By sundown the woods had grown more open, giving way to wider ground, and the three didn’t have to fight their way through the tangle of underbrush anymore. They stopped under a dark sky, and after some contemplation the Legionnaire took out a match from a pouch at his belt and made a small fire behind the trunk of a large tree, concealing it from anyone following their trail.
Adrian’s stomach troubled him. Apart from their small breakfast at the inn none of them had eaten anything all day and they had no food on themselves.
“Stay here,” Alexis said, and left them.
“Where do you suppose he’s going?” Adrian asked, sitting on a decaying log before the small fire.
“I--” Connor began, and stopped abruptly as he realized he had almost spoken to him.
“What’s the matter with you, Connor?” Adrian asked him. “Do you really blame me for your mother’s death?”
Connor didn’t answer, only stared into the flames silently.
“Fine.” If he wants to blame me for his mother’s death, then so be it, but I lost my mother as well. Adrian sat there with that cold thought, trying to warm himself before the fire.
Night fell as they waited for Alexis to return, and with it came a chill on the wind. Adrian and Connor huddled closer to the small fire, feeding it small branches. When the Legionnaire returned he appeared from the surrounding dark like a ghost, his black coat only accenting the image. He looked at them and shook his head.
“I couldn’t find anything to eat out there. Maybe it is just too dark to see.”
As he settled before the fire, Adrian turned to him. “You said you would answer my questions.”
“What do you want to know?” Alexis asked as he sat down across from them.
“To begin with, I want to know where we’re going, after Gale, that is.”
Alexis sighed. “After Gale we must find a way into the Ruins.”
“The Ruins?” Connor spluttered.
Adrian found himself stunned. “Why the Ruins?”
“Because,” said Alexis, “that is where the Source of Light rests.”
For a long while afterwards there was silence.
“What am I suppose to do when we reach the Source?” Adrian asked in the quietness of the night.
“I wish I knew,” replied Alexis. “This whole journey was made with the hope that you could find a way to heal it once it was in your arms. And then there is also the fact that you are only half Ascillian, so that leaves doubt as to whether the Source will even respond to you, or simply kill you from its touch.”
Adrian realized that the more Alexis told him, the less he wanted to know. “So it’s all a gamble then?”
“Yes. A gamble with incredible stakes riding on it.”
“Why are you being so free with all this information all of a sudden?” Adrian asked.
“Well, you asked me if I would answer your questions,” Alexis said with a small smile. “And also because I don’t believe it is in our best interest to keep too many secrets from one another.”
Silence ruled once more and the wind whined through the trees. The only sounds were those of creatures who had inhabited these woods long before these strangers had shown up; an owl hooted and a nightbird responded.
“What happens if the Source dies?” Connor asked suddenly.
Alexis’s gaze lifted from the fire and he stared into the night. “Who knows? The druid Cathanin's books were filled with theories and beliefs. Some of them are based on older myths, some new ones, and some of his theories are too frightening to think of. One such theory was that the Source was the source of light for our world, and the hearts of men would decide its fate. I’m not sure how much to believe of that; it could be religious nonsense. Another theory pondered at why the Source of Light lay in the heart of darkness. Other scholars have used these theories to further the influence of religion, to point out that nothing pure can be gained easily. I’m sure the Prophet in the east would say something entirely else. Where the truth lies and the religious metaphors begin is anyone’s guess.”
Their conversation ended with that, leaving them all something to think on as they lay down to sleep on the cold ground. Alexis took up a seat against a broad tree and kept a watch. His guns were out and rested in his hands, gleaming beneath the moonlight, waiting to be put to use.
3
Alexis stared briefly up at the brightening sky through the thick foliage. The light filtering through did little to brighten the woods, suiting the three wanderers’ moods. He returned his gaze to the ground and stepped over a deadfall that would have tripped him. It was around mid-morning he judged, and they hadn’t eaten anything since the previous morning. From time to time he would stop and study their back trail, but seeing nothing would continue to walk on. He found it amusing how his worry was shifting from being followed to being lost. He looked at his two companions and saw the same dread on their faces. We will be all right, he told himself. This forest is nothing compared to the Forest of Trials.
They walked now because Alexis didn’t believe there was any reason to dash through the woods any longer. There had been no sign of the assassins, and in their current states they were incapable of anything more than a walk. Alexis’s eyes felt heavy, and every time he realized it he forced them open and massaged them with the palms of his hands, but the weariness crept right back in after a few moments. He had stayed awake as long as he could, and with no sign of anything or anyone had at last lain down to get a few hours of sleep in the early hours of the morning. It was obvious that his body needed more rest than those few hours had afforded.
He had spent much of yesterday hoping that Owain and Hamar would follow them, but had slowly given up on that volition as the sound of the guns kept coming back to his mind. Instead he now lived on the belief that they would meet up with them once they made their way out of this forest. If we ever make it out of this cursed forest. It was a dark thought, but it wouldn’t leave his mind. All they could do was head away from Haven.
Connor broke the silence that had held among them for most of the weary morning. “Alexis, who sent the assassins?”
“I don’t know,” Alexis replied. “I suppose it could have been anyone.”
“Yes, but who would have cause to want to stop us from reaching the Ruins?” Connor wondered.
“I don�
�t know the answer to that either, Connor.” He didn’t dwell too much on who was behind the attack, knowing full well that it could be anyone, but he did wonder where their pursuers might be.
They spent the morning walking mostly in silence, with a word here and there. Around noon Alexis tried to hunt for something to eat. He left the boys and went off into the woods a little way, where he waited crouched down beside a tree silently for a rabbit to emerge. He had no such luck; it was as if the trees were whispering his presence on the wind. As if I could take down a rabbit with my knife anyway, he thought. After a small rest they continued deeper into the woods, their moods growing more dismal with every step.
An hour later Alexis spotted a bush of elderberries. The berries were small and purple and harmless. They gorged themselves on them, nearly stripping the bush clean, before moving on.
“Why won’t you two talk to one another anymore?” Alexis asked once they were walking again. The two boys glanced at one another, but neither answered. “You act so different towards one another now that it’s hard for me to believe I saw you laughing and playing together just a few days past.”
“It’s all his fault ...” Connor muttered underneath his breath.
“What is?” Alexis asked.
“Nothing,” Connor growled.
“He blames me for his mother’s death,” Adrian said quietly. “In his eyes it’s my fault.”