by Ijaz, Usman
“Because it’s my duty, given to me by King Aeiron. Because a few good men have died already, and I know others will follow. I have no wish to see the light abandon this world. It is dark enough as it is.”
“Do you feel at times as though we’re walking up a sheer cliff?”
“Always, but it is the memory of all I hold dear that keeps me walking. I have no desire to fail those I love. Perhaps if you think of those you love, and keep in mind that it is for them you do this, it won’t seem so heavy a burden.”
Adrian thought of his family in Port Hope, the only family he had ever known. He realized he didn’t wish to do anything that would cause them harm. He didn’t want to fail them, or himself.
2
The next day was spent much the same. The towns they avoided became larger inland, eventually turning into small cities, which meant that they had to ride farther around to circle them. The roads grew busier, often taken up by merchant's wagons drawn by four-horse teams, hurrying to some place. Even the rural roads they rode along were often inhabited by people. Adrian saw some of the women's clothes and turned away. They were plain dresses, but with wide or deep necklines, sometimes both. The men had beards as often as small moustaches framing their lips. It seemed to him that all the changes he had expected to see once across the border had finally caught up with them. The farms they passed grew some crops that he knew, and others he had never seen. He didn't know what to make of fields of low plants with small red bulbs.
"They’re called sweetberries," Alexis told him when he asked quietly.
With every day that passed and their destination still out of hand, the company grew more and more morose. The effect was plain all around. Even the Legionnaire began to grow uneasy, as if the apprehension wouldn’t leave him. They spoke little in that time, and though they stayed close, a cold distance grew between them all. Adrian witnessed the bonds holding them together begin to deteriorate and fade. Soon they would simply be four strangers traveling together, he thought.
Thus it came as a relief when on their fourth day in Teihr, with the daylight receding across the sky, they passed over a hill and saw the tall spires of a great city in the distance.
"There it is," Alexis announced. "Gale."
Chapter 31
On The Bridge
1
To Adrian it looked like some great place he could have heard about a thousand times and never envisioned it as it was. Even with a road yet between them, he could make out the tall spires domed in dull gray, and on each fluttered a banner the color of fresh blood. He couldn’t make out the image on the banner, but he thought he soon would be able to. There appeared to be no walls around the city, it simply seemed to span out in every direction. A dark, dismal grayness seemed to grip the city; its streets, its buildings, even the air around it, it seemed.
They rode harder, nearing in on their destination. And the feeling within Adrian, that feeling that told him they were going to break like a too-taught rope, only grew. Soon he could see some strange white emblems on the banners, but couldn’t discern what they were. He asked the Legionnaire.
“The Doves of Gale,” Alexis told him with some pride.
As they drew closer Adrian saw a large river that intersected the road neatly, a broad band reflecting the sun’s fading light. The river was wide, its waters rushing south. A large stone bridge spanned the water. The bridge was perhaps a hundred feet in length and half as much in width, with small stone walls to prevent anyone from falling over. Traffic flowed in and out of the city in a great surge by that bridge, the incoherent babble of the people overriding that of the river some twenty feet below.
We're finally here, he thought, and tried to shake loose the uneasiness that clung to him like a second skin.
They rode their horses onto the bridge, going as fast as the flow of people allowed. The throng crowded them in together, until they were forced to travel in a single line. Adrian studied the rest of the people from his vantage point. He saw a few wagons crossing - though it didn’t look as though they were moving fast - and people pushing their way through. His eyes passed over two priests in the black veils and robes of their order, an old farmer sitting atop his wagon and guiding a piebald through the river of people, roamed over a man with a small girl in hand, and rested on Alexis before him. The man stared at the city before them with a tense air about him. Adrian looked to his right, at the sun which sat low in the horizon like a dim fireball, casting a fading orange light onto the world and stretching their long shadows to one side. His eyes traveled to the large buildings beyond the bridge. Safety, his mind cried, and his heart tried to believe it.
Alexis suddenly cried out in pain and toppled from his horse. Adrian's eyes darted to where he lay. The Legionnaire had one hand wrapped around his left arm, and Adrian could see the red flow of blood run through his fingers. He quickly looked around, trying to pick out the attackers, but it was impossible in that sea of faces. He dismounted from his horse and ran to Alexis’s side.
“They’re here!” Connor shouted frantically as he leapt off his horse, eyes wide and darting all around them.
“Calm down!” Leah cried as she followed closely behind. Her own voice sounded on the edge of hysteria. “What happened?”
Adrian barely acknowledged them. He looked at the Legionnaire, lying on the ground. "Alexis, are you--"
The Legionnaire’s head jerked up, pain clear on his face, and he shouted to Leah. “Get them away! Run! Hide!"
Adrian looked around again but the flow of people was too thick for him to make out anything. Some of the passing folk looked their way, but hurried on at the sight of the wounded man. Leah grabbed him by the shoulder.
“Come! We must go!”
“No!” Adrian cried out. “We can’t leave him behind.”
“Go!” Alexis ordered harshly as he struggled to his feet. He made his way to his horse and reached into his blanket rolls with his good arm. Leah still tugged at Adrian’s shoulder, but he didn’t want to leave the Legionnaire. A part of him felt that leaving Alexis meant leaving any safety they had.
A man garbed in black suddenly stepped out from the passing throng. For the briefest moment Adrian felt hope, thinking that the priest meant to help them. Then the man kicked Alexis hard in the stomach. Adrian saw the cold eyes above the veil, and understood then there was no kindness at all in that gaze. Alexis was thrown back, managing to pull out one gun and having it go off on him. The sound was like thunder in the midst of the prattle of the passersby. There was stark silence for a second, and then a woman gave a shrill cry.
“Gun! He has a gun!”
But the crowd was already breaking like a dam. Some small instinct made Adrian reach towards his horse as the animal galloped away with the other mounts amidst the chaos. Then something struck him hard from behind and he was sent staggering to the side, his ears ringing. He could faintly hear Leah and Connor’s struggles with whoever had blindsided them. Adrian leaned against the stone railing, fighting to remain conscious.
2
Alexis tried to raise his gun as the man advanced on him. The man caught his arm in a vice and twisted it severely overhead and behind him. The gun dropped from Alexis’s hand and the man kicked it away. Alexis tried to elbow the assassin with his injured arm, wincing at the flaring pain the movement evoked, and was stopped short by a knee to his spine. He fell screaming in anguish. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Leah batted away by the other assassin. Only two? he thought in wonder. Where’s Adrian? Then the assassin was bearing down on him, knife in hand.
Alexis caught the man’s arm as it came down, the knife hanging inches from his face. The man had cast aside his veil. Alexis stared into a merciless face as he fought to keep the blade away. The assassin had the advantage, however, and as he bore down with more force, Alexis watched the tip of the knife draw closer. Out of desperation he jerked the man’s arm toward him and rolled aside, throwing the assassin to the ground. He hurried to his feet and
rushed at the assassin. A swift motion was the only warning he had. He attempted to dodge the knife, and collapsed to the ground with a painful cry as it buried itself into his left thigh instead of his abdomen. He clutched at the hilt and grit his teeth against the pain. As the assassin strolled towards him, Alexis forced his eyes open and looked around for his gun. He didn’t see it. He feared it had been kicked in the river.
“You have led us on a merry chase,” said the man in a harsh voice. “But it ends now.”
Alexis attempted to stand, but for his troubles received only a hard fist to the jaw that sent him to his knees in a surge of pain. As the man grabbed him by the hair and cruelly hauled him up, Alexis gritted his teeth and drew out the knife from his leg. His scream as he slashed at the man was half defiance and half pain. The assassin leapt back quickly, but not so quick as to avoid the attack. The knife cut him from his left hip and up the side of his ribs. The man gave a cry of pain and surprise. His face grew even colder as he glanced at the wound. Alexis attacked with the small dagger again, his attack slowed by his injured leg. He found that he could barely stand let alone move.
The assassin wrenched the knife out of his hand with ease. Alexis rammed his fist into the man’s face then, driving him back. He limped after him, feeling the warm flow of blood down his arm and leg, and not caring for it was a distant sensation. Even the pain was beginning to become a distant ache. The assassin’s dark robe was soaked on the right. His movements had slowed as he leaned in on his injured side, but Alexis was still more than wary of him. He watched as the assassin's hand crept into the inside folds of his sleeve, and threw himself to the side as a knife flew out. He scrambled to his feet, wincing at the bright reminder of the wound in his left thigh, and saw only a swift movement of the assassin’s hand before something soft struck him in the face. It exploded in a burst of white powder, and almost at once his sight was reduced to near blindness. Alexis rubbed at his eyes vigorously, but it did nothing. He could see nothing but white, with the dimmest outlines before him.
Suddenly he was kneed in the face and thrown back.
3
Connor knew the girl. She didn’t look the same now, with icy determination across her unveiled face and dressed in a priest’s robe, but it was the same girl he had shown how to play marbles. He realized this as he stood frozen to the spot, looking on as Iris kicked Leah in the ribs and then struck her hard across the face. The bard went down like a sack of oats. And then Iris turned to face him. Connor could see at once that she was about to dash towards him, and how the first clear sight of him stopped her in her tracks.
You, she mouthed in disbelief.
Connor took half a step towards her. “Iris -- what are you doing?”
“Connor ...” she said uncertainly, and then firmly, “Get out of here, Connor! While you still can! Run!”
“You’re hurting my friends. Why?”
“That’s what I do, Connor!” she shouted at him in anger. “I don’t have time to play marbles because I spend my time killing people!”
“You’re an assassin ...” Her words struck him harder than the sight of the dagger she held in one hand.
“Run, you fool! You are not the one I want!” Her eyes slid past him and he followed her gaze to where Adrian lay against the stone railing.
“No!” he cried, alarmed. “He’s my cousin! You can’t harm him!”
She shook her head in annoyance and rushed towards him. Connor looked around for aid, and saw the other assassin beating Alexis back while the Legionnaire tried vainly to defend himself. He was on his own. He looked behind him once, saw Adrian’s dazed form leaning on the railing for support, and braced himself.
He had never punched anyone before, but he swung now at Iris as hard as he could as she came at him. She side-stepped the blow easily and kicked him in the back of the knee. She tried to run on to Adrian, but Connor wheeled around and grabbed her robe and jerked her back. Immediately he was kicked in the chest and sent rolling back. As he struggled to his feet he met Iris’s gaze as she stood before him.
“Do not do this, Connor,” she told him, and he heard the clear reluctance in her voice.
“I can’t let you kill him,” he said as he stood before her, aware that she stood between Adrian and him. If she went after Adrian he might not reach her fast enough. “I thought we were friends, Iris.”
"You were never my friend," she replied in a whisper. Her voice became hard. "I do not need friends! I have all I need!"
Connor wished she could hear the pain and uncertainty he heard so clearly in her voice. “I was your friend. I can still--”
“Stop!” she cried, and then set on him like a hawk, her hands striking at him all over his body.
Connor found himself thrown back, hurting in half a dozen places from where Iris's quick blows had struck him. He attempted to get to his feet, and Iris quickly swept him clear off the ground. Connor found himself on his back, black spots swimming before his vision. Iris's foot came to rest on his throat. He met her eyes, stared into their innocent depths, and watched as they hardened to stone. Her foot began to bear down.
Chapter 32
The Saddest Dusk (II)
1
Adrian could see it all from where he lay against the stone railing, and could do nothing but feel helpless. His head still rung from the blow, and the surrounding world wouldn’t stop drifting in and out of blackness. His friends were being killed, and he could do nothing but watch. He turned his head slightly and saw the setting sun. The dim golden glow it cast was beautiful, spreading over the bridge, over the river, over the world. It wasn’t a bad sight to see before death. Tears coursed down his smooth cheeks as he realized how he was beginning to accept the inevitable. Hadn’t he known this would happen? His eyes drifted from Alexis to Connor, and he tried to scream out. Connor was trying to get the foot off of him, but Adrian knew that it wouldn’t stop. Alexis was on his knees, spitting out blood, the man before him enjoying torturing him before killing him.
Will you let them die? a part of him demanded.
What can I do? asked the boy within him.
Do what you know you must! I can’t let them die like that!
Adrian did the only thing that came to mind. He closed his eyes and searched the darkness for that distant source of light. He was aware of the press for time, but he dared not rush this. That lone light came to him eventually as it always did if he sought it, often when he didn’t seek it, always taunting him as it floated before him. He watched as it drew nearer, not fearing it and not abhorring it either. It stood before him, and Adrian resisted the urge to simply snatch at it. That would dispel the light, and any hope he might have.
For a moment he was at a loss for what to do next, and then feeling that his friends didn’t have the time for him to remain uncertain, he reached gently toward the light. He feared that it would burst as it had done in the past, and thus was surprised as a tingling warmth crept into his hand. With the hope and faith of a child he spoke to the source of that light, what he believed then to be the source of all the light in the world. Help me! I need to save them! Help me! I beg you!
He thought he heard a distant voice speak - It is up to you - but was unsure the next moment. He opened his eyes ... and stared into Connor’s face as his cousin looked helplessly toward him. His struggles to remove the foot on his throat had diminished almost to none.
No! With the aid of the railing Adrian made it to his feet. The tears that spurted from his eyes came mostly from shame now. With a yell of outrage at his own weakness, he thrust an arm towards the girl, as though to shove her aside like a branch in his way. The girl went flying away, rolling across the bridge and striking the stone railing. Adrian stared from her to Connor in dazed surprise. His cousin lay on the ground, coughing hoarsely and rubbing his throat. He looked to Adrian with a mixture of gratitude and awe. The girl was soon getting unsteadily to her feet. She stared at Adrian in perplexed wonder, and then a deep anger settled over her
features.
She ran towards him, and he braced himself, unable to recall how he had done what he’d just managed.
5
Connor attempted to shout out a warning but found the pain circling his throat too great to speak. For a moment, he watched in uncertainty as Iris rushed towards Adrian. His eyes scanned the bridge frantically. He saw Leah struggling to stand, and Alexis being punished by the other assassin. Nothing that could help Adrian.
A sparkle of light in the fading afternoon caught his eye. Alexis’s gun! He glanced back across the bridge. Iris had nearly reached Adrian, and now she wielded a knife in each hand. Connor scrambled to his feet and ran for the gun. He reached it and grabbed it, surprised by its weight. His mind wanted to demand what he thought he was doing, but Connor didn’t think of anything as he whirled around with the gun leveled before him.
He saw Iris kick Adrian savagely against the railing and draw one knife back. He willed her to stop, unaware of the tears that were collecting in his eyes now that the decision lay before him. “Please stop, Iris! Please! Don’t do this!” If Iris heard his shouts she paid him no mind.
Her hand slashed down. Connor’s finger squeezed the trigger. A clear shot rang out in the evening.
For a few moments the sound stilled all activity on the bridge. Iris turned her head to look at him, the gun still leveled before him, and from his peripheral vision Connor could see the other assassin and Alexis looking towards him as well. I missed! God, help me, I missed. For a moment Iris met his unsteady gaze, and again he willed her to stop. He was trembling all over. Iris broke the tableau as she immediately turned back to Adrian and raised her knife.
Again Alexis’s gun broke the silence of the evening.
The second shot seemed louder than the first, but perhaps it only sounded like that because of the accompanying screams. There was Iris’s scream as she was flung back against the stone railing, her robe trailing in the air, and that of the other assassin.