Shadows of Men (The Watchers Book 1)

by M. Lee Holmes

  “May I join you?” He asked in a gruff voice that suggested joining Terryn for breakfast was the last thing the Protector wanted to do. Terryn nodded his head and watched in silent distress as Fendrel took the seat next to him.

  Just then, the innkeeper returned with Terryn’s food and ale then asked Fendrel what she could get for him.

  “Bread and water.” Fendrel replied as he pulled a pipe from his pocket, lit it and began blowing puffs of smoke into the air.

  “So,” Fendrel began once they were alone, “word has reached my ears that you and Lord Ivran are plotting to attack while the High Protector is away.”

  Terryn, who had just picked up his fork to scoop some eggs, stopped suddenly in shock and looked up to Fendrel with questioning eyes.

  “No such plans have been made.” He replied with obvious annoyance. “Where did you hear that?”

  Fendrel did not answer the question but gazed ahead at the kitchen door as though his only concern was when the innkeeper would return with his bread and water.

  Terryn picked up his ale and took a long drink. When he set it back down, he found himself suddenly filled with rage. He turned back to Fendrel, his anger giving him courage, and glowered.

  “Were you listening to us last night?” His words were spoken with rage-filled emphasis and caused Fendrel to turn in surprise.

  The innkeeper returned and set a plate and glass on the counter in front of Fendrel. She waited momentarily for a ‘thank you’ but the words never escaped the Protector’s lips. She turned away haughtily and let them be.

  Fendrel turned back to Terryn with his cold gaze and said; “As Protector I find I cannot help but know everything that is going on around me. It is part of my job and part of my nature. If I have offended you I apologize. I just wanted to warn you that it would never work.”

  Terryn stiffened at those words and leaned forward before asking with irritation; “And why not?”

  “Because, if the High Protector hears while she is away that a usurper has taken over Axendra, she will stay hidden and not return until she has a full army at her back. If you think she was terrible during the first rebellion, how do you think she will react to this plot of yours?” Fendrel’s eyes narrowed as he spat the words at Terryn.

  “And who would side with her?” Terryn asked heatedly. He could feel his face turning red from the anger that boiled inside of him.

  “Oh, there are plenty who would side with her.” Fendrel replied. He did not eat his bread nor did he drink his water but he kept taking long puffs from his pipe.

  “How do you know for certain?” Terryn asked confused. He felt certain that besides the King’s army, there was no one else who would help the High Protector.

  “There are those who would side with whomever they thought had the best chances of succeeding and then there are those who would allow their greed to dictate which side to join. Next to the King, the High Protector is the richest person in this kingdom. She could pay out a pretty penny for allies, whereas we could not compete with her wealth.” Fendrel said. He looked back to Terryn before standing, placing a copper piece on the counter and wrapping his cloak around his shoulders. “Just know, I think it is a mistake and I am against it. If your friend, Lord Ivran, wishes to gain the trust of the people then he should put this little plot of yours up for a vote.” Fendrel turned and left Terryn to finish his breakfast in peace, which he did. Afterwards, he slowly stood and left the inn as well; making his way back to the village council chamber where he knew they would all be waiting for him.

  Do I suggest to Ivran that we put the decision up for a vote? Is Fendrel right when he said it would gain the trust of the people? Terryn knew the only way to be certain was to speak directly to Lord Ivran.

  When he reached the council chamber he was met with harsh stares and narrowed eyes. Lord Ivran stood exactly where he had been the previous night, centered in the midst of the crowd. His eyes were dark and sunken, with drooping lids from exhaustion. When they fell upon Terryn, he was surprised to see some of the heaviness behind them melt away.

  He smiled warmly at Ivran as he approached and stood alongside him in the center of the room then looked towards the sea of faces that stared back at him with resentment.

  “Our friend, Lord Doran Caster has informed everyone the High Protector is away and that you and I discussed using her absence as an advantage.”

  “How dare you scheme behind our backs without your council present!” Lady Ashryn shouted in anger. Her eyes were solely on Terryn and when he looked around the council chamber, he saw that most eyes were upon him, giving him the same cold, angry glare that Lady Ashryn was giving him- all eyes except Fendrel’s. He sat in the back corner of the room, arms folded over his chest and eyes narrowed. Across his face, however, there was a small smile that began to spread as the rest of the council stood and voiced their disapprovals.

  Though he was being shouted at by a rage-filled room, Terryn could not keep his eyes off of Fendrel. The Protector from Laydon did not move from his seat to join the other council members in ostracizing him. Instead, he turned his smile to a laugh and Terryn felt the rage begin to build inside of him once more.

  It is his purpose to ruin our plans. He thought to himself as he began to shy away from the angry council. It seems as though we have a traitor among us.

  When Terryn left the meeting, his mouth was filled with a bad taste and his face was red with anger. The council had been unable to think of a solution to their dilemma and so Lord Ivran had called for a break. He told everyone to spend their day planning a course of action they felt was best.

  Terryn’s heart filled with worry as he made his way back to the inn. He knew the best course of action; that attacking while Rhada was away would be key to their success. She had a way of commanding the army to destroy whatever foes came her way that Terryn had never seen before. Many people argued the first rebellion had been outnumbered and they never should have attacked without more allies, but Terryn knew it did not matter what their numbers had been. Compared to Rhada and her men, it was never enough.

  Terryn had been unsuccessful in making anyone agree with him today. In fact, the entire council seemed to resent him for his suggestion. They all want her head, perhaps even more than they want the King’s.

  When Terryn reached his room, he sighed with frustration and let his exhausted body fall onto the mattress. Several hours later, he opened his eyes, stretched his arms above his head and attempted to rub the sleepiness away.

  As he sat up, he noticed that his room was filled with a faint, orange light that could only mean the sun was setting. His stomach growled angrily at him and he cursed himself for having slept all day.

  Quickly he descended the stairs to the tavern for some food and wine and tried to ignore the tingling in his feet as they were reawakened.

  Suddenly he stopped, smiled and waved to his friend who sat at the bar with an ale in his hand and a frown upon his face. Lord Ivran waved unenthusiastically back and sipped his ale.

  Terryn took the empty seat next to Lord Ivran, ordered pork and wine then turned and smiled at his friend once more.

  “What brings you here Lord Ivran?” He asked with curiosity.

  “I came here looking for you but the ale looked so good, I found I could not pass it up.” He took another slow sip.

  Terryn sat in silence and patiently waited for Lord Ivran to continue but before he could, the tavern wench returned with his food and wine; smoked pork, roasted potatoes, a thick slice of bread and some chopped apples all served with a deep red wine that made his nose hairs stand on end when he brought the glass close to his face and sniffed. He took a slow sip, as though the contents may burn his tongue, and sloshed it around in his mouth for a moment before swallowing it, attempting to taste all the flavors that resided in the liquid. He set the glass back down with a satisfied sigh.

  Once the tavern wench was out of earshot, Lord Ivran turned to Terryn and asked; “what do you suppos
e would happen if we waited until the High Protector returned before attacking Axendra?”

  Terryn had scooped a fork full of potatoes and was about to take a bite but set his fork down gently and turned his full attention to Lord Ivran.

  “The King’s forces are stronger with the High Protector leading them. I cannot say how but she has a way of turning a battle to her favor.”

  Ivran seemed to slump further down into his chair with these words. “I am reluctant to wait two months before massing our attack but the rest of the council was outraged by the very idea of not waiting until she returned.” He lifted his ale off the table but did not drink. He merely stared into the distance, obviously occupied with his own thoughts.

  Terryn looked to his friend with sorrow. He knew what stress Lord Ivran was under and he wished he could ease that stress.

  “The King will still be there in two months’ time.” Terryn said, hoping to lift Ivran’s spirits. “Fendrel wanted us to put the time of attack up for a vote. He said that by leaving the choice up to the council, you would gain their trust.”

  Ivran nodded and turned his gaze back towards Terryn. “He said the same thing to me.”

  “You spoke with him then?” Terryn asked as he shoveled hot potatoes into his mouth.

  “After the meeting I pulled him aside. I saw the way he turned the council against you and confronted him. He did not apologize but told me he could not bear the thought of attacking whilst the High Protector is gone and risking the chance that she will escape. I think he wants to capture her more than anyone.”

  “It must be because of the attack on South Fort two years ago.” Terryn wondered how he had not realized this before.

  At one point during the war, South Fort became a base for the rebels. Thousands and more had run there attempting to escape the King’s army but Rhada led her forces there and within a day, South Fort had been burned to the ground and its people had either run for their lives or had burned with the city. Terryn hadn’t even considered the fact that Fendrel may have lost loved ones in the destruction of South Fort and wanted revenge.

  Terryn cleared his throat before speaking again. “We cannot let Fendrel make decisions for everyone just because he has a vendetta.”

  Lord Ivran seemed surprised by Terryn’s comment and looked to him with questioning eyes. After a moment, his eyes softened and he replied; “Fendrel is a smart man. Though he may wish revenge for what was done to South Fort, he would not jeopardize our rebellion for his own needs.”

  Terryn was uncertain if he believed Fendrel truly felt that way but he decided he would trust Lord Ivran’s judgment.

  “I shall put it up for a vote tomorrow then.” Lord Ivran said as he slowly stood, placed a silver piece on the table and turned to leave. Before he even took one step however, he turned back round to Terryn and asked; “do you believe we are doing the right thing?”

  Terryn was uncertain what Lord Ivran meant. He spun around in his chair and studied Ivran’s face. “You mean, about the war?”

  “Perhaps this land has seen enough war. Perhaps it has suffered enough bloodshed.”

  “It will suffer even more if we do not do something.” Terryn stood from his chair and placed his hands on Lord Ivran’s shoulders. “There are evil people living behind the castle walls. The world must be rid of them and you are the only man who can do that.”

  Instead of being comforted by these words, Lord Ivran frowned. He had the look of a man that was standing on the brink of a nervous breakdown.

  Suddenly, he leaned forward and whispered. “I think someone is following me.”

  Terryn was taken aback by this news. He leaned in closer so that Lord Ivran would not have to speak loudly.

  “There was a man standing outside my door last night.”

  “Why?”

  “I am uncertain. I think he was trying to eavesdrop but there is no way of knowing.”

  Terryn’s heart dropped at this news. Is there really a traitor in our midst? Could it be Fendrel?

  “How do you know the man was not just lost, trying to find his way in the dark?” Terryn asked, hoping that perhaps Lord Ivran had made a mistake.

  “Because the corridors were all lit and I chased the man.”

  Terryn looked to Ivran in surprise.

  “You chased the man? Did you see who it was?”

  “No. He was gone before I could make out a face.” Lord Ivran stood up tall once more and looked around at the other patrons of the tavern, as though one of them could be his stalker.

  “We must be careful from now on.” Lord Ivran said after a moment, satisfied that no one was listening. “Everything we do now could affect our chances of winning this war.”

  Terryn nodded. “We must find out who this traitor is and put a stop to them.”

  Lord Ivran nodded. “Help me keep a lookout, will you? You’re the only man I can trust.” He said, placing a firm hand on Terryn’s shoulder. Terryn felt a tinge of pride swell through him at being Lord Ivran’s closest confidant.

  “Now then, I must go spend the rest of this night with Meira. The poor woman has been neglected these past few days.”

  Terryn chuckled and nodded his head in understanding. He watched Lord Ivran saunter out of the room with the posture of a broken and weary man. It was not until Ivran disappeared out the door that Terryn drank the last of his wine and decided to retire to bed.

  The next day Terryn woke early for his breakfast before making his way to the council chamber in an attempt to avoid running into Fendrel. He was relieved when he arrived without seeing another soul on his way.

  As time wore on, the chamber slowly began to fill with the council. Some nodded to him as they entered and others turned their heads the other way when they saw him, clearly still upset about the day before. Terryn slumped down into his chair and waited silently while the rest of the council arrived one-by-one.

  Fendrel came through the door and upon seeing Terryn, smiled as though they were old friends and made his way back towards him. He sat in the empty chair next to him and spoke softly. “I am sorry for my actions yesterday. I understand why you think it is a good idea to attack while the High Protector is away, but you must understand we cannot risk her hearing about the rebellion and fleeing. She must answer for her crimes along with the rest of them.” He lowered his voice before continuing. “It will not matter how they fight back. This time, they will be driven from the stone walls that protect them and we will be victorious.”

  “How can you be certain of that?” Terryn asked with scrutiny. He knew how Rhada could fight her way through almost anything, he had seen it first-hand.

  “Because this time we are prepared, and this time we have Lord Ivran leading us. You think the High Protector can command an army unlike any other? Wait until you see what Lord Ivran is capable of. He will save the realm.” Fendrel said this last part with confidence and leaned back in his chair as Lord Ivran entered the room. He smiled warmly at everyone before taking his seat. Terryn’s focus, however, remained on Fendrel. He could feel his anger towards the man dissolving. There was no possible way for Terryn to believe that a man who could speak of Lord Ivran in such an honorable fashion could be an enemy. He suddenly felt admiration towards Fendrel Mendis but decided never to mention it.

  “I trust everyone has come to a decision?” Lord Ivran said above the low hum of whispers that filled the room. Some people nodded and others began shouting their ideas and complaints. No single voice could be heard over the shouts of all the people who were trying to speak. Ivran held up a hand to silence them and they all obeyed.

  “I think it would be best to put the decision up for a vote.” Most everyone seemed to be pleased by this prospect and they all sat up taller in their chairs and waited for their turn to raise their hands.

  “All in favor of attacking while the High Protector is away?” No one raised their hand, not even Terryn who had recently had his mind changed by Fendrel. Lord Ivran gave him a questioning loo
k before sighing and turning back to his council. “We shall wait then.” Terryn couldn’t help noticing the disappointment in his voice.

  Before the council dispersed, they agreed to meet in two weeks’ time to discuss their strategy and the room emptied. Fendrel patted Lord Ivran on the back and thanked him before leaving. Terryn sat still in his chair.

  Lord Ivran took the seat Fendrel had recently vacated and asked; “what made you change your mind?”

  “Fendrel. He was right. Rhada would find out about the rebellion and she would disappear. She does not deserve to escape punishment.”

  “Please,” Lord Ivran begged, “do not call her by name. The name rings in my ears and leaves a bad taste in my mouth.” Ivran sighed again. “Perhaps I am too eager to attack and get this war over with. I lay awake at night worrying. I have not slept in days.” Terryn knew it must be true from the look of the dark circles forming underneath his eyes.

  “Do not worry, my Lord. All will work out for us, you will see. It is time for a man such as you to save the realm.” Ivran smiled at that.

  “Go home.” Terryn continued. “Rest, and come back in two weeks with a solid plan. These people see your strength and are ready to follow you anywhere.”

  “Let us hope I do not lead them to their doom.”

  That night, Terryn sat in his room with his pack stuffed full of his clothes and his small carving knife resting in his open palms. A sudden realization had struck him as he was packing his things to leave Mordrid; he realized that he had no skills in battle. Terryn, who never quite learned how to defend himself, did not even own his own sword. His parents had been esteemed members of the court and said that fighting wars was for barbarians. They practically forbade him from learning to wield a weapon when he was younger.

  As he sat and examined his carving knife, he shuddered in fear. What am I to do when the fighting begins? Am I to hide like a coward in some dark corner of the castle? He shook the thought from his mind. He could not be responsible for starting this rebellion and then not participate when things became dangerous.