Darkblade Seeker_An Epic Fantasy Adventure

by Andy Peloquin

  The understatement of the millennia there. Hailen's life hung in the balance. The future of an entire race of people depended on him. And if that wasn't enough, there was the matter of the Warmaster's plans to conquer Einan. Keeper alone knew what the Sage intended. Yes, indeed, the stakes are Keeper-damned high.

  "So how soon will you be ready? The Sage will get me access to the Warmaster's temple in the next day or two. Once he gets what he wants, we won't have much time. I've a feeling my potential as a threat will quickly loom larger than my value as an ally."

  Master Eldor frowned. "A day or two, hmmm." He scratched his beard, a habit the Hunter noticed he indulged in when deep in thought. "Not a lot of time to work with."

  The Hunter was less than thrilled with Master Eldor and Master Belros' plan. It hinged on their ability to change the guard rotation to put men they knew they could rely on beside the Sage. As soon as they did, they would send word. The guards would make themselves scarce hopefully long enough for the Hunter to kill the Sage.

  "Make it three days, then. As soon as the Warmaster is dead, things in Kara-ket are going to get tense. The Masters of Agony will be leaderless, and the Sage will have to do something to prevent chaos and bloodshed."

  "His loyal cadre will be spread thin trying to keep things under control, and he'll have to rely on the rest of the Elivasti to maintain order." Master Eldor nodded. "We should be able to make a hole in his guard long enough for you to slip through."

  "Which doesn't solve the problem of how to keep the Sage's trusted Elivasti from hunting me down." The Hunter grimaced. He couldn't flee with Hailen, but he couldn't leave the boy trapped on the mountain. The solution of how to escape after the Sage's death hadn't yet presented itself.

  "If you can escape the temple and come here, we can protect you. And your boy." Master Eldor's expression grew grim. "I believe Master Belros, myself, and the other elders of the Elivasti can convince them to see a way to peace. Even the most headstrong youths can understand the value of freedom."

  "And if they won't be dissuaded?" The Hunter crossed his arms. "If they decide that their oaths to the Sage continue beyond his death?"

  Master Eldor looked away. "Pray to whatever god you worship it doesn't come to that. I have no desire to see Elivasti blood spilled by Elivasti."

  Of course you don't, the Hunter thought, but are you willing to let it happen for the sake of the Elivasti? In the grip of Sage or the Warmaster, they had little hope for a future beyond servitude, carnage, and death.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Master Eldor's gaze returned to the Hunter, his expression dark. "I think we've had enough training for one day. There's much to prepare for tonight."

  The Hunter nodded and replaced his wooden practice blade on the rack. Midday had passed hours ago; the Expurgation ritual would be held at sundown. He wouldn't have time to return to his room for a change of clothes, but at least he'd have a chance to see Hailen before the Sage and Warmaster arrived for the ceremony.

  "Mind if I accompany you to visit your boy? I have a few people to check in on."

  The Hunter nodded. "As you wish."

  The two left the forge, moving through the narrow streets without hurry.

  The Hunter glanced over at the violet-eyed Elivasti walking beside him. "I must ask you something, and I need you to be honest."

  The Elivasti raised an eyebrow. "I've no reason to lie to you, lad."

  "Did you know Hailen was here? The Sage told me the day after they brought him."

  Master Eldor's fingers teased the hem of his sleeve. "I knew, though I had no idea he was yours."

  The Hunter pondered his words. "Had you known, would you have told me, even if the Sage commanded you to be silent?"

  The Elivasti's expression grew strained. "You're asking if I would break my oath to serve the Abiarazi?"

  "No. I'm asking if you'd have told me."

  Master Eldor fell silent, his face pensive. "In all truth, lad, I don't know." His eyes remained fixed on the rutted street. "It is a difficult question."

  "I understand." The Elivasti's hesitation spoke volumes. He'd sworn himself to the demons; he would not break his oath easily.

  Despite his initial hesitations, he found himself liking Master Eldor more and more. The old Elivasti was a harsh tutor and tough as cured bloodbear-hide, but he knew his way around a sword. In the last two days of training, the Hunter had noticed a marked improvement in his movements. The sword seemed to move easier, with more fluidity and grace. Master Eldor still insisted he moved like a wooden dummy dancing on marionette strings, but it lacked the vehemence of the previous day.

  Yet more than that, he'd grown more comfortable in the Elivasti's presence. Master Eldor was something familiar, a tenuous link to a former life. Perhaps spending time with the man would trigger more memories. He would do anything to find out more about his forgotten past. He could remember only two faces: Master Eldor's…and Hers.

  As ever, thoughts of his mystery woman drew his eyes northward. The memory of Her called to him. She was somewhere out there, waiting for him. He could feel the tug on his heart, just as he heard Soulhunger's voice in his mind. He ached to leave Kara-ket and travel to find Her. Yet he couldn't until he'd dealt with the Sage and the Warmaster and cured Hailen.

  Just a few more days, he reminded himself. Provided I survive what's to come.

  They walked without a word, Master Eldor seeming lost in contemplation.

  The Hunter broke the uncomfortable silence. "So, am I getting any better? Or have I forgotten too many of your lessons?"

  Master Eldor tilted his hand back and forth. "I've seen worse."

  The Hunter chuckled. "High praise, indeed."

  Master Eldor shrugged. "At least you're good for something. It's been years since I was truly able to let loose on an opponent without fear of carving him to shreds. Your healing makes you a good training dummy."

  "Bastard!" The Hunter's voice rose in mock outrage. "I'll—"

  "Do nothing, unless you want your boy to see you getting beaten into the mud. We're here."

  The Elivasti guarding the enclosure straightened at Master Eldor's approach. One rapped on the small wooden door set into the large gate, and it swung open.

  Master Eldor motioned for him to enter. The Hunter ducked beneath the low door frame—sized to the shorter Elivasti. Beyond the wall, it seemed as if he'd stepped into a brand new world, one which lacked the order and precision of the city outside. Ramshackle stone huts jutted from the mountainside with no discernible organization. Muddy run-off seeped through the streets—if one could call rutted dirt paths “streets”—and trickled into the houses. A thick coat of dust and grime colored everything an indifferent brown.

  The city of the Elivasti had been a quiet place, but the enclosure echoed with the shouts and laughter of children. A handful of youngsters ran past, waving wooden swords and yelling in words only they understood. Mud caked their elbows, knees, and faces, and food stained their mouths. The walled zone was an oasis of mayhem amidst a desert of tranquility.

  Master Eldor called a greeting to the passing children, and turned to the Hunter with a broad smile. "They may be dirty, but look at those smiles. They're as happy as children can be. Within these walls, they face no harm from the outside world. Until the opia is harvested, they laugh, play, and live life in the way only a child can."

  The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "And their parents?"

  Master Eldor shrugged. "Some—those too old or frail to wield a blade in service to the Sage—occupy the houses within the walls and spend their days caring for the children. The young and strong, the warriors, the skilled workers, they live in the city beyond. Though it means they are apart from their loved ones, it is a sacrifice we are willing to make, for their sakes."

  The Elivasti's words felt like a taunt. Master Eldor undoubtedly intended no offense, but it left the Hunter wondering. Would Hailen be better off here? The boy would be with children of his own kind, pr
otected from his own naïve nature.

  A group of children came careening around a corner, and the Hunter was surprised to see Hailen in the lead. He ran without signs of weariness, laughing and shouting among youngsters his own age. The sight brought a smile to the Hunter's lips even as a burden settled on his shoulders. The question burned in his mind. Would I be willing to make such a sacrifice if it meant keeping the boy safe?

  Hailen brightened to see the Hunter and raced toward them, breathless with excitement. Before the Hunter could say a word of greeting, Hailen launched into a recounting of the marvels of hide-and-seek.

  The Hunter had no desire to interrupt him. He searched the boy's face but found no trace of what he'd seen last night. At least the Irrsinnon has not scarred him.

  Yet. Worry settled like a stone in the Hunter's gut. If he failed in his attempts on the Warmaster and the Sage, he would be forced to flee before he had the opia. What would he do? Could he leave Hailen in Master Eldor's care? The boy's life with the Hunter had been filled with pain and hardship. Would he be better off among his own kind?

  "So, Hardwell? Can I?"

  Hailen's voice pierced the Hunter's maudlin thoughts. "Sorry, what was that?"

  A frown appeared on Hailen's face. "Train, with the other boys. I want to learn to fight, too!"

  Master Eldor chuckled. "That's the spirit, lad!"

  The Hunter narrowed his eyes at the old Elivasti. "What's he talking about?"

  "Every day, I spend an hour teaching the young ones here the way of sword and spear." Master Eldor held up his hands. "Trust me, he'll come to no harm. Their training is a way to acclimate them to the life they'll face outside these walls."

  The Hunter had no desire to expose Hailen to any more violence. The boy had suffered enough for one lifetime. But how could he say no? Not with that expression of eager delight. And learning to fight could serve him well. The world had proven perilous for the innocent child; he'd need to know how to defend himself.

  "Very well," he said, "but be careful!"

  Hailen threw his arms around the Hunter's waist. "Oh, thank you Hardwell!"

  Warmth flooded the Hunter, and he patted the boy's head. "Enough now, lad."

  Hailen disentangled himself. "I have to go now, but will you come back tomorrow?" Excitement shone in his violet eyes. "Maybe you can come and watch me train."

  The Hunter smiled. "I'd love nothing more." He turned to Master Eldor to speak, but something in the distance drew his attention and turned his blood to ice.

  At the far side of the enclosure, abutting the base of the mountain upon which the temples sat, four obsidian monoliths stood stark against the grey stone of the mountain. The Hunter drew in a sharp breath, and the stench of rot, ancient and timeless, drifted toward him.

  What in the twisted hell are those doing here?

  When the boy had touched the standing stones in the Advanat Desert, he had unleashed…something terrible. That was when his eyes had changed their color. The Irrsinnon had come upon him at that moment.

  I have to get Hailen out of here!

  He couldn't leave Hailen this close to the standing stones. He wouldn't risk Hailen's presence setting off whatever power lay within the stones.

  No, not his presence. His blood. The power had only activated when Hailen pressed a bloody hand to the stone.

  It always came back to the boy's blood. When Hailen touched the Hunter—or any demon—blood dripped from his fingertips. When the Hunter lay dying from the effects of iron, the boy's blood had saved him. There's something there, something important. But what?

  He had to find a way to get Hailen out of the enclosure, and soon. He cast a glance over his shoulder. Master Eldor stood a few paces away, talking with a handful of older children.

  The Hunter dropped his voice to a whisper. "Listen to me, Hailen. See those stones?" He thrust his chin at the towering obelisks standing at the base of the temple.

  Hailen nodded.

  "I need you to promise me that you'll stay far away from them. Remember what happened in the desert?"

  Hailen's eyes went wide. "You mean—?"

  "Yes." The Hunter couldn't let Hailen say it aloud. "We can't let that happen again. So you have to stay away. Do you understand?"

  Hailen's expression turned somber, and he nodded. "I understand, Hardwell." A hint of worry flashed behind his eyes. "But what if the others want to play around there?"

  The Hunter shook his head. "You can't. It's…" What could he tell the boy? How could he make Hailen understand the danger the stones posed? "Just trust me, please."

  Hailen nodded. "I will."

  He pulled the boy into a quick hug. His nostrils filled with the boy's unique scent. Beneath the dirt and grime of an unwashed child was the fresh, innocent smell the Hunter knew so well. He had no other words to describe the odor. All he knew is that it made him want to keep the boy safe from harm.

  He broke off the embrace. With a wave, Hailen turned and scampered up the street. "See you tomorrow!"

  As the children raced away—followed by a portly, red-faced woman the Hunter guessed to be Goodie Eriath—the Hunter came to a sudden realization. The children all have their own scent!

  The crowd of Elivasti youths brought myriad aromas, each one unique and easily identified by the Hunter's sensitive nostrils. Yet Master Eldor, an arm's length away, had no scent at all.

  He'd puzzled over the curiosity before. Hailen had the same violet eyes, the same weakness of the other Elivasti. From what Master Eldor had told him, he had even begun to show the first hints of the madness. He hadn't understood why Hailen had a smell when none of the Elivasti he'd encountered did.

  Yet the children of the Elivasti did. So why not the adults?

  And why did the voices only fall silent when he was near Hailen? He'd spent the last two days in close proximity to Master Eldor, but the demon hadn't given up its shrieking. Soulhunger’s demands for death hadn't quietened.

  But he faced an even greater predicament. The opia would ripen in a few days, and the Hunter could give it to the boy. But then what? Once the boy had been given the opia and his madness cured, did the Hunter dare leave Kara-ket? Would the Elivasti allow him to take the boy? Would Hailen want to go with him, now that he had found his own kind? Could the Hunter face life alone, without Hailen's presence to drive back the voices in his mind? Did he want to? Though only a few months had elapsed since he took the boy from the Beggar Temple in Malandria, it felt like a lifetime. Hailen had given him purpose; did he dare leave that behind?

  His mind raced. It didn't make sense. Master Eldor's hand on his shoulder snapped him from his thoughts. "Everything all right?"

  The Hunter turned to Master Eldor. "Sorry," he grunted. He'd had come to Kara-ket for answers and found only more questions.

  "Deep thoughts?"

  The Hunter nodded.

  "Troubling ones, by the looks of it."

  The Hunter rolled his shoulders. "Worried for the boy."

  "I understand that. I remember the day I left my own son in the enclosure."

  "Where is he now?"

  Master Eldor's expression turned stony. "Gone."

  The Hunter didn't push. The old Elivasti seemed disinclined to say more. Instead, he thrust a finger toward the standing stones. "Tell me this, what in the Watcher's name are those accursed things doing here?"

  "What?" He squinted in the direction of the Hunter's pointing finger. "Oh, the Dolmenrath?"

  "Whatever you call them! Why are they here?"

  "Why wouldn't they be?" Master Eldor's brow wrinkled in confusion. "The Serenii put them here when they built the temples."

  Serenii? The Hunter's heart thundered. But I thought they were used by the demons.

  Visibos, apprentice to Sir Danna, the Cambionari knight, had said the stones served as a focus for the power of the Abiarazi. The balding man insisted the demons used them to invade Einan, yet could the Cambionari apprentice be mistaken?

  If that's tr
ue, they're nothing like any of the other Serenii artifacts. The Serenii built graceful elegance and masterpieces of architecture. Their handiwork—the Black Spire in Praamis, the Bridge of Ilyerrion, the tunnels beneath Voramis and Malandria, even the twin temples of Kara-ket themselves—were beautiful creations that defied the very laws of nature.

  The obelisks, however, reeked of death and destruction. He'd encountered those standing stones in the Chasm of the Lost, and again in the Advanat. Il Seytani's men had called them "a place of evil". Even bloodbears, among the most vicious creatures on Einan, avoided the monoliths. The black obelisks seemed to emanate an aura of menace and malevolence that made the Hunter shiver despite the midday warmth.

  But Master Eldor seemed undisturbed by their presence. "They are, in large part, a reason we arrived in Kara-ket in the first place, so many centuries ago."

  The Hunter's head snapped around, his eyes narrowing. "Explain."

  "They are spread throughout Einan, hidden in places where no human would dare to travel. But we dare, for it is our only hope, the only way to escape the madness. The Dolmenrath were built by our forefathers, and they extend the shadow of the Serenii across the land."

  "So you travel between these Dolmenrath? They serve as a 'safe haven'?"

  Master Eldor nodded. "Indeed. We have scoured every corner of Einan in search of the Dolmenrath. That is how we discovered the twin temples, one of the greatest creations of the Serenii."

  "So you stayed, not out of loyalty to the Abiarazi, but because it is the only way to live?"

  "At the beginning, yes. Those who came before me took up residence in Kara-ket in order to survive. But when the Sage came, he proved himself worthy of our service. He has given us purpose. Because of him, we flourish when our very heritage has turned against us. We are safe in a world where we are unwelcome simply because we are not human."

  The Hunter knew that sentiment all too well. He'd hidden his true identity from the people of Voramis. Oh, he'd told himself it was out of a desire to avoid reprisals for his work as an assassin, but deep down, he knew it had been a lie. Even when he had no idea who—or what—he was, he'd always known he was an outsider. Hiding his identity had made it easier for him to blend in.