by Kal Spriggs
Katarina shook her head, “He still needs to be held accountable... and Grel should face the noose for his deeds.”
Arren nodded again. “Yes, but don't lose sight of the overall goal of this force, as you yourself stated. We may not be able to bring justice. Even if we could, we might weaken the Duchy too much in the face of our combined enemies.” He ran his hand across a faint scar on his cheek that disappeared into his full gray beard, “I don't think I need to remind you of how dangerous the Armen and their Noric allies can be. For that matter, you can't forget the good he has done in the north, to defend against the Armen there.”
Katarina sighed at the reminder. “No, but ancestors help me, I wish I had some way to defend our lands and still make that bastard pay for what he's done.”
“We'll do our best,” Arren said softly.
“My lady,” Gerlin said as he rode up. “My scouts have reported someone to our rear.”
“A Noric scout?” Katarina asked. The Noric villages had been devastated by their defeat near the Ryft Watch Tower, but they still might scout out any large groups of troops nearby. It seemed the most likely, though she couldn't discount someone lost in the Ryft Peaks who had wandered close.
Gerlin shook his head, “He's on foot, but they said he's wearing armor and a helmet of steel.”
The Norics had little armor, many of them wore animal pelts, if that, and they made do with simple iron, bronze, or even stone weapons of their own manufacture along with whatever else they could steal or take in a raid.
“Perhaps we should investigate?” Arren asked lightly. There was something to his voice, almost an edge of amusement that made Katarina frown. What, she wondered, does he know that I don't? It wasn't unlike the old man to play games or jokes, yet Katarina couldn't see what the point of this one might be.
“Could be a trap,” Bulmor said.
“Friend, you think everything is a trap,” Gerlin said with a smile. He shrugged then, “That was my first thought, too, but my scouts confirmed that whoever he is, he's alone.” Katarina smiled a bit at that. Gerlin calling Bulmor paranoid wasn't wrong... but it was a bit like the pot calling the kettle black.
“He might be a potential recruit,” Arren said lightly. “If he comes with weapons and armor, he might be worth greeting in person.”
Katarina looked over at where Eleanor and Cederic sat on their own mounts. Cederic shrugged, while Eleanor just raised an eyebrow. Something about her expression, though, made Katarina feel even more uncertain. There was a confidence there that was at odds with this mysterious stranger's arrival.
“Fine,” Katarina said and she didn't bother to hide a bit of her irritation. She could privately admit that some of it was that being near the ruins of his home made her feel somehow close to Aerion. This stranger, whoever he was, had ruined a bit of her moment. She wheeled her horse, “Let's go. And have your scouts bring him in, Gerlin.”
Gerlin rode off ahead of her and her escort formed up around her as she rode back along the column. Their vanguard had already started up the mountain pass. Ancestors prevent any storms like I faced last time else we'll lose most of our people, she thought absently. It would be worst for Second Company, made up of Samen and others from Watkowa Village and the surrounding area. They would take a separate trail, one that would keep them high in the mountains for most of their journey towards the Ryftguard.
It seemed to her that it took a while once she reached the rear of the column for any sign of Gerlin's scouts. At last, though, he rode out of the trees down off the old trade road and reigned in next to her. “They've intercepted him and they signaled me that they're bringing him in. I saw him from a distance, he's a big fellow.”
She glanced up the column to where she could see Nakkiki standing head and shoulders above most of the rest of her people. She couldn't help a slight smile at the sight of the big man, “We can handle big.”
At last, down the road, came four of Gerlin's scouts and a fifth man. Two of them were to the rear of the man, while two more walked several feet to either side. He was tall, yet with a muscular frame that his scale mail accentuated rather than hid. He wore a helm that encased his head and carried a large, round shield slung over his back. The helm wasn't like most she had seen, it covered almost his entire face, save for a slit down the center for him to breath and another one across that for his eyes.
As they came closer, she could see that he carried a sheathed sword at his hip, a bow over his back as well as a dagger on his other side. The scouts halted him twenty feet away.
“Who are you?” Katarina asked, annoyed by how calmly he stood, almost as if he hadn't a fear in the world.
He slowly raised his hands and lifted his helmet off. Katarina gasped as she recognized his face. His smile was warm and his single blue eye held a twinkle of amusement as he spoke, “I'm Aerion Swordbreaker, my Lady.”
***
Aerion Swordbreaker
“So you just came to find us, just like that?” Lady Katarina asked him, her voice incredulous. “You didn't think to send a message ahead or anything?”
Aerion shrugged uncomfortably, “The Wold don't have many dealings with the outside world and they want little to do with our politics or wars. I was their guest... but they weren't about to violate their exile to carry a message for me.” In truth, he hadn't thought much about it and while he was certain that they could have passed along a message, he was equally certain that it wasn't something they would really want to do. The Wold seemed to prefer their isolation and the less that others knew about them, the safer they felt.
“He came as soon as he was healthy, my Lady,” Arren said. Aerion reminded himself to corner the man when he had the opportunity to get him alone. They had much to discuss.
Lady Katarina looked irritated, “I thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead!” And while the anguish in her voice cut him, he also felt some hope at hearing it. Despite what she said, he thought, she still cares for me, maybe even more after my apparent death.
He hadn't missed, though, the lack of surprise on his mother's face. Somehow, she had expected his return. Aerion guessed it had something to do with Aramer Jameson, in his guise as Arren Smith, though how he might have connections to the Wold, Aerion couldn't guess.
“And for that, I am truly sorry, my Lady,” Aerion said as calmly as he could. “But I very nearly was dead, it was several weeks until I was even able to walk. I've only just started testing my endurance and realized that I was able to journey back to... back here on my own.” Aerion stumbled on his words. He had almost said 'back to you' in front of the scouts and others, which would give away his own feelings and no doubt embarrass Katarina.
“Well,” Katarina said. “I suppose we can discuss this at length this evening. In the meantime, I think we need to rejoin the column before they get too far ahead.” She looked over at Bulmor, “Do we have a horse to spare for him?”
Before Bulmor could respond, Aerion quickly spoke, “My Lady, your apologies, but if possible I'd like to join my companions from earlier.”
Bulmor grunted at that, “Easier said than done, boy.” He looked over to Katarina, “We've a horse to spare, but I think he'd be wasted in your escort, my Lady.”
Aerion frowned at that, but he decided to ask later. He wanted to see his other friends, but he suspected that Katarina would not be satisfied with his quick summary of his time among the Wold. For that matter, he knew that his mother would have questions of her own for him. Yet as he caught Katarina's blue eyes, he felt a sudden guilt. If what I feel for Katarina is so true, he thought darkly, then why did I sleep with Tirianis?
The thought had troubled him since he awoke the morning after, yet weeks later he still didn't know how to answer that question. No more, in fact, than he knew what to do about the Starblade. Aerion sometimes felt as if he had far too much weight upon his shoulders, yet what other choice did he have but to continue?
“Well,” Katarina said, “We can discuss t
hat later. Get him mounted and any supplies he needs and let us get moving again.” The quick, professional tone she used was almost brusque, but that didn't bother Aerion. It was good to know that she could focus on what had to happen and he could respect the fact that their position here was exposed should any of Hector's mercenaries be in the area.
“I'll take care of it, my Lady,” Arren said. “I'm certain Bulmor will feel better if he has you back with the main group.” Aerion didn't miss the smug tone that his friend had. He definitely knew I would be back, Aerion thought, though just how he knew might be hard to get out of him.
“I've a few things to discuss with my son,” his mother said, “So if you don't mind, I'll catch up with you soon, Lady Katarina.”
“Of course!” Lady Katarina said, “I'm sorry I didn't even think of how much of a shock this must be for you, the second time your son has returned from the dead.” She shook her head, “Take your time, Eleanor.”
He waited as Katarina and her escort departed and his mother and Arren dismounted. Aerion grunted as his mother embraced him in tackle. “Stop doing that,” she said as she finally stepped back.
He didn't have to ask what she meant. “I'm sorry, mother, I didn't mean to worry you.”
“She wasn't the only one who was worried,” Aramer said as he passed over reins for the spare horse that Bulmor's people had left for him. Now that the others were distant, he spoke openly and the change in his voice was enough to distinguish him from his alter ego that he hid under. “And for more reasons than you might suspect.”
“Oh,” Aerion said, his one good eye narrow, “I might suspect more than you think.” He reached back and drew out the sword that he'd carried since the battle of Southwatch. “You knew what this was, didn't you? This was the whole reason for our journey to Southwatch, the rest was just a charade, wasn't it?”
Aramer snorted and he stroked his fake beard in thought, “Not entirely a charade, mind you. We accomplished a great deal of importance there, in addition to the recovery of the Starblade...” he trailed off as Aerion cocked his head at him. “But, yes, that was the point.”
“Well, I hope you don't expect me to carry it,” Aerion said. “I feel like I'm committing blasphemy just holding it, much less using it in battle.” He offered it over, hilt first.
Aramer backed away, hands raised, “Oh, no. I'm not going to take it.” He frowned, “Aerion, Southwatch chose you to carry it. The spirits of that place didn't let me near it, not even when I requested it directly. It chose you. Until the rightful bearer can be selected, you will need to guard it... and, yes, use it.”
Aerion felt his hands tremble on the blade, “I can't Aramer, it's not mine to carry. I know that. Ancestors, I'm a common born bastard!”
“He's right,” his mother said, her own eyes calm, “Southwatch thought you worthy enough and so do I... and not just as your mother. You have to carry it until it goes to the rightful heir.” She cocked an eyebrow at Aramer, “Who you will have to identify, else this will all become rather more drawn out than necessary.” Aramer frowned at that, but he didn't argue. Aerion didn't miss the fact that the Herald didn't answer either.
“Well,” his mother said, as Aramer stood stubbornly silent, “I suppose we should rejoin the others, else they'll think we're conspiring or something.”
As Aerion mounted up, he looked over at his mother, “How did you know I was alive?”
She snorted as she mounted, “The wizard.”
“Cederic?” Aerion said, surprised.
“He has a companion, a Viani, I gather, named Seraphai who reported your arrival among the Wold,” Aramer said from his horse. He sounded a bit peeved at that, almost as if he disliked having to rely on someone else to give him information. “Quite the smug one, the wizard, when he has a secret.”
“Wait...” Aerion said, “Seraphai, you're certain?”
His mother nodded, “He mentioned her name a few times.”
Aerion felt a chill go over him, “Well, she very nearly killed me... over the Starblade, no less.”
Aramer gave him an odd look, “Why on earth would she do that?”
Aerion opened his mouth to respond, but he hesitated. He wondered how much he should share about what had happened. For certain, Cederic must know the details already, but if he hadn't shared them, then Aerion wasn't certain he felt comfortable doing so himself.
“We can learn that later,” his mother said. “In the meantime, perhaps you could make yourself useful and tell young Aerion some of what has transpired since his departure?”
Aramer glared at her for a moment, clearly determined to learn everything he could. At the same time, Aerion knew the man would be sorely tempted to share what he knew about what had happened since Southwatch.
“Well,” Aramer finally said, “Even with your distraction, we had a good number of Armen on our trail. Things would have gone pretty bad for us except for...”
***
Aerion Swordbreaker
“Andoral's Black Balls, it is good to see you, Aerion,” Walker said as Aerion dismounted.
The shorter man came forward and embraced him and Aerion patted him awkwardly. “It's good to see you, too, Walker. Behind him he saw Nakkiki and Quinn walk forward. Nakkiki dwarfed the stocky younger man. Walker released his embrace and stepped back, but then Quinn took his place, “Ancestors, it's like you're back from the dead!” Quinn said. Before he could release him, Nakkiki stepped forward and joined the hug. Aerion grunted as the huge man's arms locked around him tightly and crushed the air right out of his lungs.
Nakkiki rumbled something in his native tongue and Aerion gasped out, “Air!”
Quinn muttered something, but he was crushed between the two of them and whatever he said was lost. After what seemed like an eternity, Nakkiki released them both and stepped back. Aerion rubbed at ribs that felt like they might creak if he moved. “Good to see you both as well,” he said. He looked over at where Walker stood, a smile on his chubby face. “I see word of my return has already spread.”
Walker snorted at that, “It's not every day we have someone return from the dead.”
Nakkiki rumbled something and to Aerion's surprise, Quinn haltingly spoke, “He says that he appreciates your return,” Quinn waited a moment, “and something about pyres of our fallen enemies rising up to honor the gods.”
“You learned to speak his tongue?” Aerion asked, surprised. Quinn had seemed bound to teach the big man how to speak their own language, but it seemed Quinn had adapted. Then again, last time he had pressed the matter, Nakkiki had scorched off Quinn's eyebrow along with half their camp.
“A bit,” Quinn flushed. “There was a sailor, from Boir, who had visited his island and recognized his dress. He taught me some words and Nakkiki has worked with me to teach me more.”
“I'm proud of you,” Aerion said. He was suddenly reminded of the fact that Lady Amelia's father had saved his friends... and that perhaps he should have carried a message for her after all. He reminded himself to tell Aramer about her presence amongst the Wold... and to discuss Seraphai with Cederic.
“It's not all he's been learning,” Walker said with a smirk. “Quinn here is Cederic's apprentice.”
“What?” Aerion asked, surprised. Then again, without Josef or him to keep the other man's interest at bay, it wasn't entirely surprising that he had approached the wizard. At least he's learning directly from the wizard, Aerion thought, and not trying to figure it all out himself. The thought didn't entirely reassure him, especially given what Aerion knew about the Shrouded Wizard's involvement in Aramer's schemes.
Quinn shrugged, “It's not as exciting as you might think.” He frowned, “Lots of discussion about some pretty esoteric subjects. Some math, some physics, but...”
“He's been like this for weeks,” Walker muttered, “Big words and a bigger head.”
Aerion snorted at that, but he clapped both men on the shoulder. “It is good to be back.”
�
��It's good to have you back,” Quinn said. “If only Josef...”
“Yeah,” Aerion said. His return suddenly seemed more than a little bittersweet. Part of him still half expected to see Josef with his big, friendly smile every time he turned his head. The loss was all the more painful now that he was reunited with his other friends.
“Have you heard about Kara?” Quinn asked.
Aerion cocked his head, “No?” He was confused, he hadn't heard of any fighting, had she been injured or killed in an accident or training?
Quinn flushed, “She's... well, she's in a family way, you might say.”
“What?” Aerion flushed, “You mean, she and Josef...” He trailed off, “Oh, ancestors, that's rough. What is she going to do?” He felt even worse to think about how happy that news would have made Josef. The missing presence of the big man seemed all the starker for the loss of his kind words and easygoing attitude.
Walker snorted, “Right now she's threatening bodily harm to anyone who suggests she can't do her job. Her father tried to get her to stay behind and her reaction was damned near priceless. I've never seen that cranky old bastard at a loss for words, but she took the wind out of his sails, that's for certain.”
Aerion snorted a bit at that, himself. Still, he felt sadness well up as he thought of how happy the news would have made Josef. If only I'd found him sooner, Aerion thought, maybe we could have saved him.
“Aerion,” Bulmor's gruff voice interrupted his thoughts. He turned to find the squat armsman along with an unfamiliar man. The other man was stocky, much like Bulmor, but he had a well-trimmed beard and he wore what looked like an old military uniform.
Aerion straightened, “Yes?”
“This is Captain Bartek,” Bulmor said. “He's the commander for our new Third Company. You'll be serving under him.” There was something in the warrior's tone that made Aerion stand a little straighter at the introduction.
Aerion nodded his head awkwardly, “Sir.”
The older man stepped forward, “I've heard about your skills, Aerion, and I'll be glad to have you.” He glanced at Bulmor, “Lady Katarina and Armsman Bulmor have told me that you would make a fine sergeant. Do you think you are up to it?”