Empire of Dirt: (Echoes of Fate: Book 2)

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  At least there was some reprieve in that...

  26

  Sentinel

  It was a still night in The Arid Lands, without a cloud in the sky and a bitter chill in the air. Tauren son-of-none, a Karathan and native to the desert took no notice of the weather, his attention entirely fixed on Salim. Inside the makeshift barracks, built centuries ago at the base of Syla’s Gate, father and son shared the edge of a canvas cot. The two had sat in silence for some time after embracing each other, neither knowing exactly what to say.

  “He was brave…” Tauren whispered. “Everyday of his life, Halion was brave. He had enough courage and faith for the both of us.”

  “I should…” Salim had fresh tears flowing down his face. “I should have shown him a different life. One without fighting and bloodshed.”

  Tauren put an arm around his adoptive father’s shoulder and pulled him in. The old honour guard still had the blood of assassins and Karathan guards in his hair. The son-of-none held him for another minute and weeped with Salim.

  “Tell me everything,” Salim finally managed. “I need to know everything.”

  “As I told your companions, the New Dawn has taken control of Karath’s resources.”

  “The New Dawn?”

  “An old religion devoted to an elf called Valanis.” Tauren saw the recognition in his father’s eyes, as it had with the others. “They have been secretly ruling the empire for centuries. There are two elves in league with the Arakesh who appear to have taken control. They are the ones who killed Halion.”

  Tauren had visualised killing all of them. They were responsible for Halion’s death and the death of so many owls.

  “As we speak, an army of Darkakin savages advance on Syla’s gate.” Tauren gave Salim a moment to absorb that. “It’s part of some plan that would see all of Verda fall under Valanis’ fist, not just the empire. We have to hold them here.”

  “I should never have left.” Salim sat up and leant on his knees, burying his head between his legs.

  “You had no choice.”

  “There is always a choice, Tauren. I should have taught Halion that years ago, I should have taught you both. Instead I left you here to fight.”

  “I made a choice,” Tauren replied softly, “as did Halion. We chose to fight for what is right. The empire doesn’t work; it is built upon the broken backs of slaves. Its foundations are rotten and its hierarchy corrupted. While I fought in the streets, Halion fought where it really mattered. He spent years converting the soldiers to our way of thinking, whilst influencing the highborn families. He didn’t always win, but I was there to watch his back and he mine.”

  Salim looked up at him with glistening eyes, though his voice was full of judgement. “And what choice have you made now? You man the Gate and incite open war with the Arakesh? This is a fool’s errand! If the plans you speak of are true, those elves will march the entire Karathan army and all of the Arakesh out here to kill everyone. You don’t have the numbers.”

  Tauren could feel his mood switch instantly. “Numbers? This isn’t about numbers or strategy. We stand and fight for the entire realm. It was you who taught me about honour, honour guard! Have you lost yours during your time in the wilds of Illian?”

  “Yes! I have!” Salim stood up and paced like a caged lion. “I was stripped of my honour and exiled, remember. My time as a ranger has taught me about the importance of survival, and the life that can be achieved without some sense of honour! There’s no honour in death, Tauren. It’s just death…”

  “How can you say that?” Tauren was on his feet now. “Your son hangs from the palace walls because he died doing what was right, what was honourable!”

  Salim turned away and placed both of his hands against the cool wall. The two men stood in silence, their heavy breathing filling the room. This was not the reunion Tauren had dreamed of for so long.

  “Forgive me…” Salim slowly slid down the wall and crumpled to his knees. “Please forgive me…” Through his fresh tears and matted hair, Tauren couldn’t tell if he was talking to him or Halion. “I should never have left him.”

  Tauren couldn’t help but weep with his adoptive father; the sight of him defusing any anger that burned inside of him. The son-of-none crouched by his side and the two embraced again, remaining there for some time.

  Asher wandered throughout the makeshift camp, his eyes taking in these owls and their weapons. Those who weren’t manning the top of the Gate or the scaffolding were huddled round small fires, sharing stories and scraps of food. They weren’t much to look at and their leathers were light with too many visible gaps to really be called armour. Still, they had apparently attacked the palace and fought Arakesh and Karathan guards alike. Those who were still alive before him deserved some credit.

  Looking up, and the ranger had to really crane his neck, he could see the pyres lit atop the Gate. They had doomed themselves by lighting them; everyone in Karath would be able to see them. Not that it mattered, their presence would bring hell down upon them all. Alidyr would no doubt seek an audience with Asher, wishing to learn the real location of Paldora’s gem. Such a relic could not be easily forgotten, even with a shard in Valanis’ possession.

  The ranger returned to the small fire on the edge of the camp, the furthest point from the Gate, where his companions had found rest. They were all discussing the revelations delivered to them by Tauren son-of-none.

  “I don’t believe it!” Doran snorted. “Darkakin marchin’ north? Sounds like bollocks to me…”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Asher interjected, “we need to leave. Nightfall is east of here.” The ranger could see Reyna’s face falling into protest. “If we stay we’re exposed; Karathan soldiers and assassins to the north, Darkakin to the south now. We need to head east before we’re trapped here.”

  “He’s right,” Nathaniel agreed. “We didn’t come here to fight an army of Darkakin, or the Karathans for that matter. We need to reach Nightfall and recover the gem. Win the war, not the battle.”

  “No.” Reyna was standing now. “We can’t allow the Darkakin to breach those gates. Their arrival must be Valanis’ way of securing war in Illian. There is still hope for our people finding peace, but the Darkakin will bring chaos. How can we stand by and do nothing? The gods have brought us here for a reason.”

  “Look around, Princess.” Asher’s tone was harsher than he meant it to be. “If the Darkakin really are coming this way, the gods have delivered us to our deaths. We few cannot fight off an entire army of savages on one side and an army of trained Karathans on the other. It cannot be done.”

  “It cannot be done?” Reyna echoed incredulously. “I saw you stand in the gates of West Fellion and defy death time and time again.”

  “That was when I had the ring.” Asher couldn’t seem to lighten his tone. “Without the gem I die just as easily as everyone else; something you will witness if we linger here.”

  “I hope to never see that…” Reyna’s soft, but genuine tone disarmed Asher immediately.

  All eyes fell on the ranger.

  “I’m -” Asher’s apology never found his lips, for that extra sense, which would forever attune him to the Arakesh, tugged at his attention.

  The ranger flicked his head to the right and he scanned the darkness between Syla’s Gate and Karath. The elves were the first to catch on, also detecting the intruders. It was Asher’s alarm however, which had the other rangers and Nathaniel on their feet in seconds, all weapons drawn. Their combined commotion had the owls on alert and they too came to their feet, every one gazing into the dark.

  Without a sound, the shadows gave birth to a single row of Arakesh, twelve by Asher’s count. The assassins’ approach was slow and their short-swords remained on their backs. Each was blindfolded behind red cloth, though completely aware of their surroundings. They would already know who among them was injured by the taste of the blood in the air, or how many arrows were aimed at them by the sound of the individual
bowstrings.

  Ro Dosarn stepped in front of the other assassins across the shadows, his facial scars and square jaw setting him apart from the younger, fresher faces. His grey goatee and razored hair had yet to change over the years. Asher kept his hands relaxed by his side as he too stepped in front of his companions.

  “It could have been you standing where I am now,” Ro said. “But you didn’t have the balls to see this life through, so now you’re going to die, alongside your friends.”

  Asher didn’t want to waste his breath bartering words with the killer. “You’re here to deliver a message, or we wouldn’t be talking at all.”

  Ro smirked, twisting his old scars. “Do you want to know how he died? Nasta Nal-Aket? You were close weren’t you? He brought you to Nightfall all those years ago, trained you personally… like a father.”

  Asher clenched his jaw but he remained in place, Nasta’s own training ever present in his life. He wouldn’t give Ro the satisfaction of rising to the bait. It was true that of all people, Nasta had been the closest thing to a father figure, but their relationship was an extraordinary one. The same man who kept him close and protected him, also beat him and subjected him to awful torments all in the name of Nightfall.

  “He whimpered and begged like a dog,” Ro continued.

  The ranger gripped his broadsword but kept it sheathed. Ro chuckled to himself and balled both of his fists, while the other Arakesh tensed, some even reaching for their swords. All but one. Asher noticed the assassin on Ro’s left, a young man by his features, who never flinched.

  “I bring word from Alidyr Yalathanil,” Ro finally announced. “You and the elves come back with us and everyone else gets to live.”

  Asher could already see how futile that promise was. Alidyr may permit the owls and the others to live, but the Darkakin army would still march right on through and kill them all anyway. The only thing the ranger was considering, was how best to send his rejection back to Alidyr…

  “That one,” Hadavad stepped forward and pointed his staff at the young assassin to Ro’s left.

  Everyone turned to regard the old mage, curious as to what he was trying to say, even the Arakesh appeared somewhat confused. The young assassin did not.

  “Hadavad?” Asher inquired, his eyes never leaving Ro.

  “That one is not what he seems,” the mage continued. “I know possession when I see it.”

  Despite the blindfold, the young assassin regarded Hadavad with some intensity.

  “How astute… for a human.” The young assassin stepped further into the firelight and removed his blindfold, abandoning it on the ground.

  Ro swivelled on the man. “What are you -”

  “Silence!” the young assassin hissed, his voice not quite his own. It was enough to give Ro Dosarn pause. “We meet again, ranger. And you have something that belongs to me...”

  Asher followed the young man’s gaze to the crystal pommel over his shoulder and instantly drew his broadsword. “Alidyr!”

  This was enough to set off the Arakesh, who as one removed their twin short-swords and fell into attacking stances, with Ro in the lead, eager as ever. The unique sound of Reyna’s enchanted bow being pulled back was the last noise to resound across the desert.

  The possessed assassin held up his hand and smiled in the same eerie way as Alidyr. “Stop. There doesn’t have to be blood, not yet anyway. Accompany Ro back to the palace, with the princess, and no one has to die.”

  “You want the gem.” Asher said, as he fought the urge to remove the assassin’s head from his body.

  “You should have told me the truth in Elethiah; now I will have to extract the information at the expense of considerable pain.”

  “I’m not unaccustomed to pain…”

  Alidyr smiled. “Who said it would be your pain?”

  The ranger glanced over his shoulder at Reyna and knew there and then that the night would end in bloodshed.

  Faylen said, “You expect us to come with you knowing what you intend? Our legends credited you with more intelligence than this, Alidyr.”

  Alidyr looked directly at Reyna. “I think if it means the lives of everyone here, you will run back to Karath if I command it.”

  Now Reyna stepped forward, her arrow still nocked as she lowered her aim. “Then you have underestimated us, Alidyr Yalathanil. As you did when I claimed this bow as my own.” The magical bow still glittered out of the firelight, as if the stars were trapped inside.

  Alidyr’s smile was gone now. “Your next words will decide the fate of everyone behind you, Princess Reyna. Choose them well.”

  Reyna matched his tone perfectly. “We will stand here and show you the difference a few can make. Not a single Darkakin will set foot in these lands.”

  “You really think you can stop what’s coming?”

  “If we stand aside, you and your master would have Verda become an empire of dirt.”

  Alidyr laughed to himself and grinned. “And what would be wrong with that? The world is made of dirt. Now imagine it without the stain of humanity or even our own kin. A land made clean for the return of the gods!” The young assassin laughed again. “An empire of dirt indeed…”

  Doran son of Dorain hefted his thick sword over his shoulder. “Ye have our answer, pisspot.” The dwarf snorted and spat on the ground in front of the assassins. “Are we gettin’ to it or what?”

  “Not tonight, master dwarf.” Alidyr met Asher’s eyes. “Tonight you will need your rest. Tomorrow we will have our war, though I feel slaughter would be a better description.”

  One by one, the assassins melted back into the dark without a sound. Had Asher not been privy to their talents, he would have sworn it was magic. The last thing he saw was the wide smile on the young assassin’s face before the shadows reclaimed him.

  It was another moment before the entire camp breathed again. Tauren had emerged with Salim and was already adding extra guard to the perimeter. Salim still appeared to be in a different world to everyone else, unfazed as he was.

  Asher turned around and looked upon Reyna with an impressed eye. There were not many who could stand up to Alidyr Yalathanil and even less when he was reinforced with Arakesh. Then again, this was the same princess who had killed one of the Hand, a feat that had never been accomplished before.

  Their previous conversation not forgotten, Reyna stood in Asher’s way. “Leave if you must, ranger. Go to Nightfall and retrieve Paldora’s gem, but I am staying here.” With that, the princess replaced her arrow and walked away.

  Asher regretted his harsh words and tone and knew there was still an apology to be given. Seeing the state of the perimeter guard however, the ranger decided it would have to wait.

  “Glaide, Doran, take the western watch. Hadavad, Atharia the east. Bale-”

  The barbarian put his hand in Asher’s face. “I do not take command from little man.” The behemoth strode into the camp and started ordering the owls about.

  Salim was already walking back into the old barracks. Asher knew to give the man time, even if it had just become a very precious thing. He was bolstered by the knowledge that when the fighting started, Salim could finally be unleashed.

  “What shall we do?” Nathaniel asked.

  Asher didn’t look to the knight, but instead bent down and picked up the discarded blindfold, left behind by the possessed assassin. He still loathed the feeling of it in his hands and the memories it invoked, but the Nightseye elixir still coursed through his veins, and it was an advantage he couldn’t waste right now.

  “Make sure everyone gets some rest and patrols are taken in turns. Work with this Tauren son-of-none; the owls take his command.”

  Nathaniel raised his eyebrow. “And where are you going?”

  Asher proceeded to tie the blindfold around his eyes, until all the light was gone and the world truly came to life in all its unseen detail. His senses were instantly heightened and his heart rate increased as he took it all in.

  “
I’m going out there.” Asher nodded at the dark expanse between the Gate and Karath. “Make sure we get some warning in case they come back.”

  “You think they might return before day break?”

  Asher strode out into the night. “I think every word out of Alidyr’s mouth is a lie.”

  27

  Staying The Course

  Alidyr opened his eyes and found himself back in the palace, his spell at an end. He had been sat cross-legged in the middle of the balcony where the emperor would normally have his breakfast and enjoy his position above all others. The view from the palace offered the elf a vista of stars that watched over the city of Karath, now quiet and dimly lit. The atmosphere had changed in the city and Alidyr wondered if Nakir had made a mistake hanging the young Halion from the walls.

  Still, the gods had delivered Asher back into his path.

  The ancient elf said a prayer to Atilan, the king of the gods, and thanked him for the favour. Now he could accomplish his task and retrieve the whole gem, empowering his master once more. Valanis’ private mission was still on Alidyr’s mind, however. What had his master been looking for in Namdhor’s archives and what was his interest in The Lifeless Isles? He didn’t like his master having errands he wasn’t aware of. Throughout the Dark War the Hand, and especially Alidyr, had been privy to all of Valanis’ plans.

  Faith, he heard his master say. He had to have faith in not only the gods but also Valanis, their herald. He was to oversee the Darkakin’s arrival and find Paldora’s gem; nothing more.

  “I take it they refused?” Nakir strolled onto the balcony.

  “Of course.”

  “Did any of your Arakesh survive the refusal?” Nakir asked with some amusement in his tone.