A March into Darkness
( Destinies of Blood and Stone - 2 )
Robert Newcomb
Robert Newcomb
A March into Darkness
CHAPTER I
Should theJin’Saisomehow prevail against the Enseterat, even then his trials will have only begun. For a Vagaries servant shall come to taunt him, and he will seduce the Jin’Saiinto following him on a march into darkness.
- PAGE 242, CHAPTER VI OF THE VIGORS
GAIUS WAS UNUSUALLY FAIR FOR A MINION WARRIOR. HEwas clean-shaven, with light brown hair and green eyes. Recently promoted to the rank of captain, he commanded the eleven warriors stationed near the magnificent azure pass that had been carved into the rugged Tolenka Mountains. Eager to impress his superiors, he took his first command seriously.
Seated by the campfire with five fellow warriors, he looked up at the mountainside. He could easily see the pass shimmering in the night. Six more warriors were camped up there, watching it. Even from its great distance up the mountainside, the pass’s magnificent rays flooded the plains below.
Gaius and his troops had been stationed here for nearly two months, but the pass had yet to relinquish any secrets. As he looked back down at the fire, he wondered whether it ever would. Those were riddles for wizards to unravel, and far beyond a warrior’s knowledge.
Tristan, Wigg, Faegan, and the sorceress Jessamay had arrived in Minion litters to view the pass just after theJin’Sai and his forces turned back Wulfgar’s invasion for the second and final time. Ox and Traax had accompanied them. Although his written reports to theJin’Sai had said little since his posting here, Gaius still sent them along at regular intervals.
By now it was widely known that theJin’Sai was a widower. During his visit, each of the warriors had expressed his or her heartfelt condolences. His face grim, Tristan had thanked them, then ordered that his group be taken to view the pass. Gaius had climbed aboard and directed the litter bearers up the mountainside.
On reaching the site they all disembarked. They walked to face the glowing pass while the wizard Faegan levitated his chair on wheels, following along behind. The entire mountainside had been scorched black and barren. Even now, warm cinders crunched beneath their boots. There were no trees, no brush, and no grass-just the strange pass, shimmering brightly against the face of the granite mountainside. Because their habitats had been decimated, all the forest creatures had fled.
They’ll never return, Gaius thought as the group approached the strange phenomenon. The craft is at work here, and somehow they know it.
When they saw the group coming, the six warriors guarding the pass came to attention. At first no one spoke. As everyone stood before the pass’s wondrous presence, it was almost like there could be nothing left to say.
The deep gap was barred by a brilliant azure wall, its aura so bright that it hurt everyone’s eyes. It stretched silently from one mountain sidewall to the other-a distance of about twenty meters. Looking up, they could see no limit to its height, for it disappeared into the dense fog that always crouched atop the mountain peaks.
The pass’s flat surface was smooth as glass. As the visitors gazed into its depths they could see white shards of light shooting to and fro, as if begging to be released to the outside world. It was a wondrous, awful thing. No matter how many times Gaius came here, he was stunned by its majesty.
Knowing that his place was with his troops, the captain stayed behind as he watched the inspection party approach the glowing wall. He saw the wizards point at it and speak anxiously to one another. Tristan said something to the wizard in the chair, and the mystic nodded.
Gaius watched theJin’Sai unsheathe his dreggan. As the blade cleared its scabbard, for several moments its unmistakable ring filled the air. With another nod from Faegan, the prince walked closer.
Gaius held his breath as the prince drove his sword directly into the glowing wall. The blade disappeared effortlessly, like it had entered the still surface of some countryside pond.
As the prince steadily held his weapon, the light shards on the pass’s other side started gathering around it. They danced to the dreggan like it was a lightning rod, but they did it no harm. With a final nod from the wizard, Tristan withdrew the blade and sheathed it. Again the wizards and the sorceress huddled together, talking in urgent tones. Finally turning away from the pass, theJin’Sai ordered a return to the base camp.
The royal party stayed the night, and everyone feasted. As the smell of roasted venison filled the air, much akulee-the dark, bitter brew of the Minions-was consumed. Although they spoke little about what they had seen, Wigg, Faegan, and Jessamay had been sociable enough.
But theJin’Sai was another matter. He had eaten little, then gone off to be alone at the camp’s far edge. He sat there for hours before finally falling asleep, holding the gold medallion around his neck and drinking akulee while he stared into the darkness. The two wizards and sorceress had looked at him often.
At dawn the inspection party had thanked Gaius, then flown back to Tammerland. Before leaving, theJin’Sai had instructed Gaius to keep the reports coming, no matter how sparse they might be. The captain had answered with a smart click of his heels.
His thoughts returning to the present, Gaius again looked up the mountainside. The pass’s azure rays still flooded the ground around him. He had no idea how long he and his warriors would be stationed here, but they would gladly do their duty until ordered otherwise.
Gaius took a last pull on the akulee jug, then wiped his mouth with his forearm. Lying down by the fire with the others, he finally fell asleep.
AS THE PASS THROUGH THE TOLENKAS CONTINUED TO SHIMMER, three of the six warriors stationed nearby lay asleep by the fire. The other three sat on camp stools playing at cards. It would be dawn soon. Then they would sleep while the others stood guard.
Being posted to this desolate place had quickly become tiresome, even for diligent Minion warriors. The wall of azure light never wavered, never threatened. Silent and beautiful, for them it had become nothing more than what it appeared-a seemingly harmless construct of the craft. Even the usually wary Minions had begun taking its harmlessness for granted.
Without the warriors noticing, a thin white line started silently climbing up the middle of the azure wall. Starting at the ground, it soon stretched as high as the eye could see and disappeared into the fog. Still the three warriors did not turn around. The line quickly parted the wall into halves, revealing a space that was dark and endless.
As an intruder came through the gap, still the warriors did not notice. A mounted black stallion stepped silently forward to a place about five meters from the fire. The vapor from the stallion’s nostrils streamed in the cool night air.
The warrior named Eranan was the first to jump to his feet and draw his sword. Startled, the other two quickly followed.
Without hesitation the rider raised one arm. With a muffled explosion, Eranan’s insides burst through his chest and abdomen. His fellow warriors watched in horror as his vitals slipped wetly from beneath his body armor and fell to the ground. Without saying a word, Eranan dropped his sword to fall facedown, dead where he lay.
Drawing their dreggans, the other warriors ran to attack the intruder. Before they could near him, they died in the same hideous fashion as had Eranan. Rising sleepily from their places by the fire, two more warriors perished before they grasped what was happening.
The lone surviving Minion charged, swinging his dreggan for all he was worth. Surprisingly, the murderer did nothing to stop him. Sure that he was about to take the intruder down, the Minion smiled menacingly.
The dreggan blade came whistling around, slashing into the r
ider’s right shoulder. But as it did, the warrior felt no resistance against it.
Doing no harm, the dreggan flowed through the intruder’s body, then down through his mount as though they were ghosts, burying itself into the trunk of a nearby tree. The warrior frantically struggled to free the blade, but could not. His eyes wide, he looked up at the miraculous opponent who had just bested him. The being’s face was hideous, terrifying.
“Who are you?” the warrior demanded.
Staring down at his bewildered enemy, the being atop the horse smiled. He raised one arm.
“I am a Darkling,” he said quietly. “But you won’t live to tell anyone.”
The warrior’s organs exploded like those of his fellows, and he fell dead to the ground. His dreggan-still caught in the tree trunk-glinted softly in the light of the three red moons.
Saying nothing more, the rider guided his horse down to where Gaius and the five other Minions were camped. The dark gap in the pass sealed itself, leaving no trace of the exit that had just formed.
In the end, the sleeping warriors at the bottom of the mountainside would fare no better than their brothers.
CHAPTER II
DESPITE THE COOLNESS OF THE NIGHT, TRISTAN WASsweating. Its blade shining in the moonlight, his dreggan felt cool to the touch as he held it vertically before his body. A stout Eutracian maple tree was at his back. He had been hiding at the edge of the forest for some time. Taking a deep breath, he peered around the tree trunk.
Wigg and Jessamay were quickly making their way down the hill. The crippled wizard Faegan was close behind, levitating his wooden wheelchair as he went. The trio would soon near the nondescript cottage in the clearing. Then they would know.
Gritting his teeth, Tristan chafed at being left behind. For the last two months each of these deadly encounters had been the same. He and the others were always ordered to stay back, while the mystics went in first. More often than not their fanatical prey chose to die, rather than surrender. The few who had been taken alive were interned in the depths of the Redoubt.
As the three mystics hurried, Faegan cloaked their endowed blood. Even so, the adepts neared the cottage with extreme care. Light could be seen coming from its windows, and smoke gently curled its way free from the stone chimney. It was an idyllic picture, belying the deadly nature of those hiding inside.
Desperately wanting to act, Tristan looked over at Traax and Shailiha. Their expressions told him that they were equally eager to go charging down. They all had their individual scores to settle-Tristan most of all.
Looking deeper into the woods, Tristan saw more eager Minions, crouched in hiding and awaiting his orders. He doubted that the extra warriors would be needed, for the scouts he had sent here yesterday had reported that only two souls inhabited the cottage. But if the fugitives were of the craft they could prove deadly. His hands tightening around his sword hilt, he looked back down at the scene.
Their backs flattened against the cottage’s front wall, Wigg and Jessamay waited anxiously for Faegan. Finally landing his chair directly before the cottage door, the crippled wizard raised his hands. Twin azure bolts shot from his fingers, brilliantly illuminating the night.
Faegan used the twin bolts to free the door hinges from their frame. Lifting his hands into the air, he cast the door to the grass. Tristan held his breath as he watched the wizards and sorceress charge inside.
At first nothing happened. Then Wigg’s warning came roaring out into the night. Tristan raced down the hill. As he approached the cottage, bolts of azure energy screamed from the windows. Then the roof exploded into the air, and three of the cottage’s four walls tumbled into ruin. The blast took Tristan off his feet, throwing him hard to the ground. What remained of the cottage crumbled into flaming debris. Burning wood and charred stone landed all around him.
Tristan slowly came to all fours. He looked up to see Traax, Shailiha, and Ox come running. As his vision cleared, they helped him to his feet. Traax handed him his sword.
“Are you all right?” Shailiha asked anxiously.
Tristan ran one hand through his dark hair. “I…believe so,” he answered. But as his mind cleared, a terrible foreboding took him.
“Wigg…,” he breathed. As fast as his legs could carry him, he again started running toward the inferno.
Soon the heat was too much, forcing him to a skidding stop. Trying to enter the crumbling cottage was unthinkable. The last timber suddenly fell in, leveling the dwelling for good.
Shailiha came to stand with Tristan, and she took him by the hand. His body was shaking with hate, and tears filled his eyes.
“What happened?” she asked quietly as she sheathed her sword.
Tristan angrily slid his dreggan into the scabbard lying across his back. He looked down at the ground.
“Whoever was inside that cottage chose to die, rather than be captured,” he answered grimly. “Did you see those azure streaks come tearing out of the windows? That explosion was generated by the craft. Despite their amazing gifts, our friends never stood a chance.” His hands balling up into fists, theJin’Sai closed his eyes.
“Oh ye of little faith!” a gravelly voice suddenly called out from the darkness. A familiar cackle followed.
Everyone spun around to see Faegan approaching. He was again levitating his wooden chair. In the light of the burning cottage they saw that he was dirty from head to toe, but smiling broadly. Wigg and Jessamay-each equally filthy-were following along behind.
Tristan let go a sigh of relief. Shailiha ran to greet them. Faegan and Jessamay beamed back with the sheer joy of being alive. Embarrassed by Shailiha’s enthusiastic embrace, Wigg cleared his throat, then busily smoothed out the hem of his singed robe.
While the cottage remains crackled and burned, Tristan, Ox, and Traax walked over. By now the warriors hiding in the woods had joined them. Faegan gave Tristan a conspiratorial wink, but it was clear that theJin’Sai was not amused. The prince crossed his arms over his chest.
“I’d say you three have some explaining to do,” he said. “How did you manage to survive that explosion?”
“We managed to take cover behind the rear wall, which we strengthened with the craft.” Obviously pleased with himself, Faegan smiled again.
Shailiha scowled. “I don’t understand,” she protested. “How did you know that there would be an explosion? And what made you believe that you would be able to get out in time? It must have been close!”
“Indeed,” Wigg answered.
As the First Wizard and Jessamay walked closer, the others could see that their hair and clothing had been singed. The Paragon-the bloodred jewel that helped to empower both sides of the craft-hung securely from a gold chain lying around Wigg’s neck. Seeing that the gemstone was safe, Tristan finally relaxed.
“When we stormed the cottage, we saw two men sitting at a table,” Wigg added. “I recognized them as onetime consuls of the Redoubt. When a ball of energy started to form between them, I wasted no time in causing the windows to blow out so we could run for cover. We were lucky, but the two consuls died immediately. I think that was their intent from the beginning. I am sorry to see them perish. They might have told us much.”
Reaching down into one knee boot, Tristan retrieved a ragged piece of parchment. He held it to the moonlight as he glanced down the page.
“This was the last consular safe house on Satine’s list,” he said. “But that does not mean that it was the last of the consuls.” His face grim, he closed his hand around the parchment and crushed it to pieces.
“This simply isn’t good enough,” he said menacingly. “I want them all.”
Wigg cleared his throat. “We may as well return to camp,” he said cheerfully. “Our work here is done. I for one am so hungry that my ribs must be showing through!”
“I agree!” Faegan added. “I could do with a bit of Minion cooking myself-crude as it might be!”
But as the group turned to go, theJin’Sai stayed put. He t
urned to look at the remains of the burning cottage. Sensing his frustration, Shailiha walked over and snaked one arm through his.
“Come, Brother,” she said gently. “There is nothing more to be done here.”
When Tristan turned she saw his eyes start to well up. Holding him a bit closer, she accompanied him back to the Minion campsite.
“He worries me,” Shailiha said softly.
As she sat by the campfire with the First Wizard, the princess pulled her knees up under her chin. It was a perfect evening. The nighttime sky was full of stars; the tree frogs sang pleasantly. Her soft brown jerkin and matching trousers were helping to keep her warm, while the campfire added to her sense of security.
Several Minion tents dotted the ground nearby, and the occasional flying patrol could be seen highlighted against the three red moons. Reaching up, the princess tossed a handful of her long blond hair over one shoulder.
The roasted pheasants the Minions prepared had been wonderful, and the princess had consumed a bit more than her share of red wine. Ox and Traax were off seeing to the sentries; Faegan and Jessamay had retired. They would all be home late tomorrow. The princess would be glad to hold her daughter Morganna in her arms again.
She looked over at Tristan. He had again eaten little, then gone off to be alone, sitting with his back up against a tree. He was monotonously sharpening his dreggan blade with a whetstone. As the stone slid down the sword’s edge time after time, the crown prince of Eutracia simply stared into space, like he was the only person left in the world. Since the death of his beloved Celeste, they all knew that when he was like this, it was best to leave him alone.
Sighing, Shailiha looked over at the First Wizard.
“You have been with him when he endured so many of his losses,” she said softly. “Each time he has returned to us. Will he do so this time as well?”
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