by Amanda Young
Kern made his way quietly to the outside edges of the group and knelt by Casther, who acknowledged his presence with a distracted nod. Most of his attention was focused on the direction of the sounds. “What can you hear?” Kern asked.
“Just the footsteps, now, but I heard voices a short while ago. From the sound of things, I’d say there are a lot of them.”
“Do you think it’s the raiders?” Kern asked softly, not wanting to frighten anyone who might be awake.
Casther shook his head. “The footsteps are slow, shuffled, tired. I doubt that is them.”
“The refuges from Tynerock?” Kern asked
He nodded. “That would be my guess. You should take Rand and check it. I will wake Zanden and Lynn.”
Kern did as he was asked and woke Rand. He acknowledged Kern with a grunt and rolled off his matt, ready to go. Without Lynnalin’s lantern light spell the caves were impossibly dark. Rand suggested travelling without a light in case Casther was wrong about the identity behind the sounds. They walked perhaps fifty feet when Kern gave up and asked to light a torch. His toes were aching from stubbing them on rocks and his grunts of discomfort and surprise every time he walked into a wall or low ledge gave away any hint of surprise they might have. Besides, the darkness was not helping his feelings of claustrophobia. He wanted a light.
Rand laughed and pulled out his hammer, wrapping it in blue Suriaxian fire. The caves were even more unsettling cast in the blue hue, but he could finally see and avoid the rocks, so Kern counted his blessings and tried not to think about his anxiety. As the sounds grew louder, it became easier.
“I told you we already went this way,” a man’s voice said. “There is the mark I left on the wall.” Several voices broke out into argument about which way to go, which way they already went and how long they would be trapped in these caves. Dim yellow light shone around the corner up ahead. Rand extinguished his fire, and they walked confidently the last few dozen feet to their destination. Marcy was the first to notice them, her elven ears giving her the advantage in hearing their approach over the uproar of the tired, angry and frightened survivors of Tynerock.
“Kern!” she called excitedly, rushing over. “I am so glad to see you.” She collided into him and wrapped him in a warm hug.
Thomas walked over with a similar grin. Most of the others settled down, distracted and curious by the unexpected interruption. “Please tell me you know a way out of here. We’ve been travelling in circles for what feels like months.”
“Only one month,” Kern teased.
“Actually,” Rand corrected them both, “it’s only been about five days.”
“Only,” Kern rolled his eyes. “You guys stay here for now. Get some rest while you can. We’ll get everyone else and continue on in the morning, night, whatever.”
* * *
The air was stale. Samantha held her hand to her chest and tried to calm her pounding heart. Once that was under control, she trained all her senses to determine what woke her. All was quiet. She felt the insistent pressure on her chest and rose, letting the sheets fall to the ground. Her bare feet padded determinedly to the window. She looked out into the darkness. A few random lanterns lit the two cities, but most people were asleep at this hour. Her stomach turned. She lowered her head. Taking a brief moment to reassure herself she wasn’t imagining things, Samantha rushed from her chamber.
She ignored the looks from the guards and waited with as much patience as she could gather. It did not take long to gain admittance to the room she first arrived at. As she guessed, the monarchs were still wide awake. She could see the fatigue on their faces, but they still mustered friendly smiles in greeting.
“What can we do for you?” Pielere asked.
Samantha gathered a burst of courage and spoke. “I believe we are in imminent danger.” He raised an eyebrow but motioned for her to continue. “Just before my people were attacked, I felt this overwhelming sickness. I ignored it then,” she admitted, to her shame. “Within minutes, they were upon us. I just awoke with the same feeling. A great evil approaches.”
The three shared a look. “What do you hear?” Mirerien asked Pielere.
He closed his eyes. The room fell quiet. “Fear. In the outer farming settlements.”
“Those were evacuated,” Eirae argued.
“Someone must have stayed,” Mirerien reasoned.
Eirae cursed under his breath. “If we send our fastest unit . . .”
Pielere sucked in a sharp breath and shook his head. “Too late.” Eirae cursed again.
“Where did you feel the call?” Mirerien asked.
Pielere studied the map for a moment and pointed to a spot roughly a day’s walk from the Suriaxian wall, at the south of their two cities. Mirerien pointed to a spot parallel on the map, in the mountains. “That is where I sense Kern.”
“So the raiders are tracking the refugees,” Eirae surmised.
“Either that,” Pielere said, “or it is a very bad coincidence.”
Mirerien pointed to a spot in the mountains slightly north. “This is where they will likely exit the caves.” The tunnels north of that point curved away from the cities. That point bent the closest to Suriax and Aleria.
“That’s almost two thousand yards from even Suriax’s walls. They’ll be slaughtered, in the open like that, long before they can make it to the cities.” Eirae stepped back in frustration.
“What can I do?” Samantha asked, unable to remain quiet any longer.
“Can you fight?” Eirae asked.
Samantha looked away in shame. “I can lift a sword, but I possess very little skill in wielding one. I was just an assistant farrier. I’m afraid I don’t have many useful skills.”
Pielere walked up and put a hand on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t say that. This feeling you had, other than the previous attack, have you felt it before?”
Samantha thought back. “Once. A stranger came through our settlement. He needed his horse re-shoed. Every time he came near, I felt ill. He was friendly. Everyone liked him well enough. He did not hurt anyone or start any fights. After he left, the feeling went away. A week later, soldiers came looking for him. He was an escaped criminal, wanted for murder.”
Pielere nodded, satisfied by her answer. “I want you to stay in these chambers. There is a door over there,” he inclined his head to the far wall. “Push in the knob to the left, and it will open. Our families will be in the adjoining rooms. If you get that feeling again, strong enough to convince you the palace is no longer safe, lead them through that door.”
Her eyes widened at the enormity of the task she was given. He was placing the lives of his children in her hands. “Yes, Sir,” was all she could say. He gave her that comforting smile again, and she felt much of her fear melt away. With a nod, the three of them left as one, calling out to the attendants and issuing orders before the door even finished closing behind them.
* * *
The room was quiet. Children lined the walls. Their backs were pressed straight. Their posture was perfect. The only thing that betrayed their age was their eyes. In her presence, adults would stare forward or at their feet. These children watched her every move, looking her straight in the eye. They were unafraid of her power. Fed by the illusion of youthful immortality, they indulged their curiosity, completely un-intimidated.
Maerishka walked to the next room and knew they were finally at the older students. The girls all wore hair cut short, above the shoulders. For females of elven descent, this was an unusual sight. The boys and girls all wore bright, new clothing. Shoes were perfectly kept with no signs of wear. The many burn scars were finally beginning to heal. These children were hit harder than most by the Night of Blue Fire that gave all adult Suriaxians their gift. They were mostly children, barely past puberty and lacking the discipline needed to quickly control the fire. Even the adults struggled with this. It took over a month to develop their skills to the point where they could return to school without accidentally
burning everything to the ground.
To accommodate those early accidents and to help the girls stay alive, most cut their hair right way. When flames erupted in the middle of the night or during play, long hair was a hazard that could quickly catch fire. Even with that precaution, most burned through a great deal of their wardrobe, hence all the new clothing.
Despite their struggles and injuries, they showed no self pity or signs of trauma. Even standing still and respectful, their excitement filled the room. As with the younger children, many met her gaze head on. A few smiled. She felt a flush of pride and respect. These students were the future of Suriax. They were strong, and her kingdom would be stronger for them.
When she made her vow to Venerith, she could never have known what would happen. She prayed for his blessings and the strength to maintain her power. She gave him her citizens in the bargain. At first, she lamented sharing his gift of fire with her subjects, but now she saw the wisdom of his choice. With a people this dangerous, outside forces would be fools to challenge her and her kingdom. Should a challenge come from within, as they so often did, her fire still burned hottest. She could burn from over ten feet away and kill with a touch. Her attendants and husband were forced to take potions and drape themselves in protective magic to hazard being near her. It was a good bargain.
Maerishka exchanged a few words with the teachers and head master, finalizing details of the rebuilding efforts. There were rooms to imbue with protective spells, scrolls to replace and other less pressing concerns. Maerishka nodded and politely disengaged herself from the discussion. Any other issues could be addressed by her staff. Making her way back to the palace she looked around the city. There was still a great deal of work to do. Most of the rebuilding was completed. Her people were hard working and determined. But the scars were there. Empty lots sat where homes and businesses once stood. Char marks shone on doors and pavement. The people smiled and bustled about, but more than a few bore new scars. Some sported fresh burns. They were still adjusting. This would take time.
She turned the corner and hurried to the palace, stopping at the look of excited agitation displayed by the guards. They looked away nervously in her presence. Before she could question them, Svanteese rushed up. “Your Majesty,” he said, slightly out of breath.
Svanteese was her most trusted royal advisor and had a way of always being around while rarely being noticed. He heard everything and was a great political asset with extensive knowledge in affairs of state and a quick mind. Svanteese was also a good man, sometimes caring a bit too much for what happened to people he felt were undeserving of punishment. Despite that character flaw, he was a hard worker and a great help in managing affairs of state.
“What is it?” she asked, surprised to see him so out of sorts.
“You have visitors,” he answered carefully.
Leaving the guards to their discomfort, she proceeded to follow Svanteese through the foyer toward the visitor sitting room. Curious who could get the palace in such a stir, she didn’t bother asking any further questions. Instead, she flung open the double doors and gasped in shock. Pielere, Mirerien and Eirae stood waiting for her. She felt her palms burn and wished briefly her gloves were gone.
“Hello, Sister,” Eirae grinned at her reaction.
“You may go,” she said to Svanteese before closing the doors behind her. “I assume there is some reason for this visit.”
Pielere rose from his seat next to Mirerien. Eirae remained lounging arrogantly against a chair. “We are here to discuss a matter of importance to both our cities. The raiders from the Southern Plains have continued their northward path. They will be at the wall soon.”
Maerishka laughed, her tension gone. “Is that all? Let them come. No one can get through our wall.” The outer wall that wrapped around both Suriax and Aleria was a massive construction. Solid stone, it measured thirty feet high and was over ten feet thick, more in some spots. Watch towers sat at each corner and by all access points. Guards paroled a parapet embellished walkways at the top of the wall. An attack from Aleria was a much greater threat than any outward force breaching their defenses. As they were once one city, the walls separating them were much thinner and easier to overcome.
“And what of the survivors from their earlier raids?” Pielere asked. “Even now, they make their way through the mountains. They will be slaughtered the moment they leave the protection of the caves.
Maerishka narrowed her eyes. “Since you seem to know so much about my people, you should also know the refugees are not unprotected.”
“And you think a four man team is any match against an army of Cullers?” Eirae asked.
Maerishka bristled, but refused to comment on their knowledge of the size of her team. Instead, she focused on the latter part of her question. “Yes, I’ve heard those rumors as well. Don’t tell me you actually believe that nonsense. The Cullers were wiped out in the wars.”
“The men who lived during those times died. The ideas they fought for, the mindset of chaos, destruction and rage, are not so easily overcome.” Eirae stood and dropped his casual posture. “These raiders travel as a plague, engulfing any place they touch, killing without mercy, standing and continuing to fight with no regards to their own pain or death. Whatever their goal, they travel north. Our cities are the only way, save by boat, to cross the Therion River for over a hundred miles. No matter what name you choose to call them, it is undeniable they present a very real threat to all of us.”
“You need not worry about your precious city. If anyone, Culler or otherwise, tries to break into Suriax, they will die long before reaching Aleria,” Maerishka assured.
“And what of the refugees?” Mirerien asked. “If we were to send an escort to aid in their protection, would you object?”
“Fine, you may send your escort, via the wall, but should any of your soldiers set foot in the city, they will be subject to immediate arrest. Understood?” Mirerien nodded. Maerishka turned to leave, then stopped, a thought occurring to her. “He is with them, isn’t he? That is why you are so concerned with a group of refugees from the Southern Plains.” When they would have answered, she raised a hand. “Never mind, you may save your brother. I won’t stop you, this time.” With that, she left.
* * *
The air was still. The trees and animals were quiet. Even the city was quiet. Maerishka looked up at the ramparts. Her guards stood rigid, at complete attention. They were disciplined, always vigilant in their duties, but today was different.
She shook off her unease and continued to her personal dock. On her order, the gate was opened, and a small ship sailed in. She waited as it was secured and Alvexton was escorted off. He smiled at seeing her and took her hand, flinching at the contact. Taking pity on him, she dropped his hand and pulled out a potion of fire and heat protection. He downed the liquid quickly and took her hand again, though it would be at least a minute before the potion took full effect. “What did you learn?” she asked as they walked, hand and hand from the beach.
“I think the Alerians may be right.”
Maerishka grimaced. Shortly after the first report from her cinder unit, Alvexton expressed a desire to go to the Southern Plains and personally lead recovery efforts for his people. The Southern Plains were his territory before their marriage. It was only right he should take a hands on role in their protection and assessing future threat levels.
With all reports indicating the raiders were gone from there, she agreed. Given their continued presence in the Alerian territories south of Suriax, she insisted he travel by the Therion River. The river stretched for hundreds of miles in either direction, bisecting the sister cities of Suriax and Aleria. It ran east, through the Eastern Ridge, and travelled south, through Suriaxian territory. The way was not easy. Only an expert captain could pilot a ship through the traitorous mountain passes. Once past the mountain, the river ran all the way to Lerein, the capital of the Plains, but to see the areas deeper in his territory it was necessa
ry to anchor the ship and ride by hound. It was a hard journey, but he seemed no worse for the wear.
“The destruction was unbelievable. I only went to a few of the places hit, but they were all the same. Nothing and no one was left. The fact that we had any survivors is a miracle. I thought to help with recovery, but there is nothing to recover. Any village attacked is gone. All the other towns and settlements are frightened but otherwise untouched. It was as if a massive storm swept through and then left. I have never seen anything like it before. If they are, in fact, traveling in this direction, we need to prepare.”
“My people are not simple farmers. They can handle anything this hoard has to offer,” she offered indignantly.
Instead of getting insulted by the comparison, he patted her hand reassuringly. “I would never underestimate the strength of the people of Suriax. The truth remains that the city is still recovering from the Fire. Followers of Ferogid continue to hover around. Tensions are high. Random fights break out as those once weak now vie for dominance. An attack at this point could very well dissolve all of the progress the city has made.”
Maerishka took in all he said, looking around her city as they walked back to the palace. Maybe he had a point. Suffering more loss of life and property so soon after rebuilding would add a tremendous amount of stress to their lives. They were already feeling it. Of course they did not know exactly what was happening but there were rumors, and those could be more dangerous than truth. Those who knew nothing could still feel the tension. They were nervous, on edge, and most did not know why. Stopping mid-step, she turned to her guards. “Assemble the city. I make an announcement at midday, today.”