Dark Times

by Brian Murray

  After a few moments, Aurillia regained her composure and stepped back inside the tavern. Queen Larene, Emyra, and Megan had helped the men, and Aurillia could hear them slowly making their way upstairs. From the first floor, she heard muffled voices; then Conn and Zorain returned to the common room, both covered in blood. Looking at Aurillia, and seeing the shock in her eyes, Zorain pulled Conn into the kitchen.

  “Conn, go and see to your family, and please check on mine,” said Zorain, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Tell my wife I’m fine and I’ll be home shortly.”

  “What about Rayth?”

  “I’ll stay here to see to him and Aurillia. Please go and see your family, they’ll be worried.”

  “We did well today, Captain,” said Conn, as he formally saluted.

  For the first time, the night’s success registered with Zorain and he allowed himself a small smile. “Aye, that we did. But it will not seem a success if the healer does not keep our friend alive,” he whispered wearily.

  Queen Larene entered the kitchen and the two City Watchmen bowed. “How did things go?” asked the queen, her voice calm and even.

  “My lady, I am pleased to announce your city is once again under Rhaurien control.”

  “That’s good to hear,” replied the queen. “Have you heard from my son?”

  “No, your Highness, we came straight from the outer wall. Zane should be at the palace.”

  “Then it is there I should go.”

  “Conn,” said Zorain, “before you go home, would you escort the queen and the princess to the palace?”

  “Yes sir,” answered Conn formally. “It’ll be my pleasure.” After washing the blood from his hands, he left the kitchen with the two royal ladies.

  Zorain walked to the sink to wash some of the blood off before he saw Aurillia again. He poured some water into the bowl and splashed the refreshing cold liquid onto his face as Aurillia entered the kitchen. Zorain turned to face the young woman, her eyes red from the salty tears flowing down her cheeks. Zorain quickly tried to wash off as much blood as possible and dried himself with an old towel.

  “Your father fought well,” he said softly.

  “I don’t care whether my father fought well,” snapped the young woman, quickly regretting her outburst. “I’m sorry, will he live?”

  Zorain dropped his gaze and shrugged his shoulders. “Truthfully, I’m not too sure if he will live or die.”

  “He will live,” said Aurillia in a matter of fact tone. “He will live and be running our tavern again in no time, wait and see.”

  The front door to the tavern opened and quietly closed as Conn led the queen and princess back to the palace. Zorain paused for a moment, then walked round the kitchen table to stand in front of Aurillia. She looked up into the man’s eyes.

  “Aurillia, if you need anything, I will be here.”

  “That’s most kind, but you have already helped by bringing my father home.”

  Zorain put his hand on the girl’s shoulder and squeezed it gently.

  “Your father will live, Aurillia, of that I am sure. I will wait here until the healer comes down.”

  Aurillia smiled a thank you and then moved to the stove. Lifting the iron kettle, she turned. “Tisane?” she offered.

  Zorain sat down at the table and smiled. “That would be very pleasant.”

  ***

  Ireen and Megan waited in the common room, keeping each other company. Neither wanted to tempt fate and mention their men, but both wanted to ask. They had asked the queen to pass on a message to Thade and Tanas if she saw them, that the women awaited their return. Now both were lost in thought.

  Emyra entered the common room, her face ashen, her hair matted with sweat. She had only spent minutes with the healer, but already appeared exhausted.

  “How is he?” whispered Megan softly.

  “He has lost a great deal of blood and the healer is not too confident. If it were not for Zorain, the healer would have sent a priest to his side rather than try to help him. You must excuse me. The healer has asked me to get him some hot water. Would you mind helping, I do not want Aurillia to see her father covered in blood.”

  “Will he live?”

  “I don’t know,” answered Emyra thoughtfully as she walked towards the kitchen. As she entered the room, Aurillia turned, and Emyra forced a smile. “Tough old fool, that father of yours.”

  “Is he going to be all right?” asked Aurillia hopefully.

  “The healer is with him and has asked for some hot water.”

  “I’ll bring some up to him,” answered Aurillia, instantly reaching for pots to boil water in.

  “No, girl. You wait a bit until your father is clean and presentable. I’m sure he would not want you seeing him looking such a mess. Give me a while and I will call you.”

  Aurillia stood staring at Emyra for a moment, then reluctantly nodded.

  A thick silence settled in the kitchen as the water boiled. Then Emyra and Megan took the steaming pots up to Rayth’s room. When she returned to the common room, Megan had tears in her eyes. She walked over to Ireen who, seeing her friend’s distress, hugged her. For several minutes, they just stood there gently rocking from side to side. Ireen’s eyes also brimmed with tears, her mind racing with solemn thoughts.

  ***

  Conn escorted Queen Larene and Princess Sasha through the docks to the palace. The wagon moved along the cobblestone street, the wheels clattering loudly against the cobbles. Some of the braver inhabitants peered out the windows, or opened their doors with fear-filled eyes. Even without her usual silk gowns and jewellery, many recognised the queen. They bowed when she passed them, and realisation slowly sank in— they must be free! The wagon turned towards Up Town where more and more people ventured out of their houses. People began clapping, others cheering when the queen rode past. Word of the victory spread through the city like wildfire. Some citizens screamed and whooped joyfully with triumph, as others ran to friends’ homes, banging on their doors. Their message was simple: the black clad Dark Brethren had been defeated. The Rhaurns were victorious.

  ***

  At the palace, Gammel’s body was wrapped in funeral cloth. All agreed that Gammel should be transported back to Evlon, for burial next to his murdered wife and daughter. Zane made a point of ordering a company of Royal Lancers to escort the body, as he wanted safe conduct for his friend.

  Outside, guards had been placed all around the palace. However, instead of the Royal Lancers, axe-wielders had accepted the honour of protecting their liege.

  The four friends went to the king’s chambers to finalise the funeral before visiting their loved ones.

  A young boy ran through the palace corridors, searching for his master. Arriving at the king’s private chambers the boy skidded to a halt, took a deep breath, then knocked on the door. From inside came a muffled, “Come in.”

  The boy entered the room.

  Inside the room, four men sat in silence. The page, new to his position just two days before the troubles, had not met the new king and therefore had no idea which of the warriors he faced was his liege. The boy glanced around at the four men. One of them was an older warrior with dangerous, almost wild, violet eyes and long greying hair. The boy discounted him, being too old. Next to him, on his left, sat a warrior with what seemed like a scarf tied over his eyes. The man was smiling and the page thought that he knew his problem. Then there were the two other warriors. Both had grey eyes, shoulder-length black hair and could have been brothers. One sat to the right of the older warrior; the other perched against the desk. The page took another deep breath and smiled at the man leaning against the desk.

  “Sire, I have been asked to inform you that your mother and sister will be arriving at the palace shortly.”

  The man frowned. “That’s strange,” said the warrior, “I don’t have a mother. I’m an orphan.”

  The page reddened and looked at the other warriors who smiled as Thade spoke. “However, young
man, if you want to try again we will see if you can find your king.”

  The boy felt uncomfortable, blushing hard. He looked at the other men.

  “Son, what is your name?”

  “My name is Davit, sir.”

  “Well Davit, I’m not as mean as these others. I’m the king,” said Dax, beaming a smile.

  “I’m sorry sir, but you’re not my king.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  The page gained some courage. “I have been told that our king is a handsome man and not as old as you.”

  Zane boomed with laughter at the page’s answer as Dax rose.

  “Are you calling me ugly, boy?”

  “No sir, you’re not ugly,” said Davit smoothly, taking a step back, “just not as handsome as our king.” The page turned to Zane and smiled. “Sire,” he said bowing. “The queen and princess will be arriving at the palace shortly.”

  “Thank you, Davit,” said Zane, smiling his crooked smile.

  The page bowed and left the room, leaving the men laughing at Dax. Moments later, the men left the king’s private chambers and walked through the palace. Nearly all the corridors had been damaged, either during the fighting to retake the building or by its temporary inhabitants’ new dark décor and vandalism. Pictures had been torn from walls and red or black paint coated many walls, giving the palace a dingy, oppressive feel—almost as if the building itself had formed part of the morbid ritual.

  They arrived at the main doors and waited for the arrival of Queen Larene and Princess Sasha. On seeing his mother, Zane bounded down the palace steps and raced up to the wagon. He recognised Conn and smiled broadly.

  “How goes it Conn, did everything go according to plan?” As Zane spoke, Dax, Thade and Tanas joined him by the wagon.

  “I have some grave news, Sire,” said Conn, lowering his head.

  Zane could not ask.

  “Spit it out, man,” growled Dax, standing next to Zane.

  Conn took a deep breath, knowing his news would cause distress to the young king. “Rayth has been seriously wounded. The healer does not think he will last the night. I’m sorry, your Highness.”

  “Where is he?” snapped Zane anxiously.

  “At his tavern.”

  Zane looked towards his mother, his eyes misting with concern. She just nodded at him. That was all he needed, he had his mother’s permission. Their time would come; now he must go.

  “Get me a horse!” shouted Zane. A guard rushed off to get four horses, knowing Zane’s companions would join him.

  Tanas walked over to the queen and helped her from the wagon. “Is everyone else . . . ?” He could not finish the question.

  The queen smiled at the blind warrior and, taking his out stretched hand, stepped down from the wagon.

  “They’re all fine. And thank you for looking after my son.”

  Tanas cocked his head to one side and smiled. “He is my friend,” he replied, his tone remaining light and friendly.

  The horses were brought round to the front of the palace. Without waiting for the horse to stop, Zane vaulted into the saddle, and was at a gallop, through the inner gates and along the road in a heartbeat. In his haste, Zane did not recognise General Brooks and Gordonia, who were making their way to the palace.

  “Was that . . . ?” started Gordy, but his sentence went unfinished as Dax and Tanas thundered past.

  Thade, recognising the generals, reined in his horse and stopped.

  “Greetings generals, it’s good to see you well. You must excuse me, I have to catch up with the others.”

  “Is everything in order?” asked General Brooks, frowning.

  “That depends on your perspective.”

  “What’s wrong, damn you, man?”

  But as General Brooks asked the question, Thade urged his horse into a gallop and pursued the others. Brooks sighed and turned to his comrade. “The youth of today,” he muttered with a shrug.

  Gordonia smiled and nodded at Brooks, watching Thade disappear down the winding road and merge into the darkness. His mind was full of concern; he had made a promise to his friend the Phadrine Emperor that he would bring his daughters home. He hoped he would complete his mission as failure was not an option for him.

  Meanwhile, Zane and the others charged towards the tavern at a mad speed.

  ***

  Aurillia heard Emyra’s call and made her way slowly upstairs to her father’s room. She paused at the door and took a deep breath, but this did not calm her pounding heart. Pushing the door open, she entered.

  The distinct acrid aroma of healing herbs washed over her. Blocking the view of her father were Emyra and the old healer, whose name she did not know. Emyra turned and gave a strained smile. Aurillia slowly approached the bed, her eyes brimming with tears. She held her hands to her mouth to stop a scream when Emyra moved to one side, the shock evident in her eyes.

  Motionless on the bed lay her father, Rayth. His skin colour appeared almost pure white and his lips were tinged blue. Neatly wrapped bandages covering his body were already stained with red patches. Aurillia edged towards the bed to stand next to Emyra, her eyes wide with fear. She glanced at the aging healer who tried to give a reassuring smile but failed. Emyra put her arm around the girl’s shoulders and pulled her in close. That was the first time the girl’s unknown mother had embraced her. Aurillia felt soothed in the woman’s arms, and closing her eyes, she silently wept.

  After finishing with Rayth, the healer rose and shuffled round the bed to face the women. “I have done all I can,” he said softly, not making eye contact.

  “Thank you,” said Emyra softly. Aurillia just nodded her thanks.

  “If I were you, I would stay with him. It’s now up to him whether to stay or go. I would talk to him of better times and give him a reason to return. I’ll come back later and change his dressings.”

  “Thank you for all you’ve done,” whispered Aurillia and touched the healer’s leathery hand. “I thank you from my father as well.”

  The healer bowed his head and left the room without another word, leaving the two women to watch the injured man.

  ***

  The healer left the tavern and bade his farewells to Zorain, Ireen, and Megan. He did not tell them the full extent of Rayth’s injuries; there was no point. Once outside, he saw a rider gallop recklessly down the cobblestone street towards him, followed by three other men. The young man on the horse dismounted as the horse skidded to a stop in front of the tavern. The healer did not recognise the man, but stepped aside.

  Zane ran straight into the tavern without bothering to tether his horse. Dax, Thade, and Tanas arrived, dismounted hurriedly and tethered their horses. Seeing the blood on his coat, Dax assumed rightly the man leaving the tavern was a healer.

  “I’m Dax, a friend of Rayth’s. How is he faring?”

  “He is fine,” said the healer warily.

  “Do not lie to me, man, and tell me the truth. Will my friend live?”

  The healer looked into the warrior’s violet eyes and thought to lie again, but something there told him he had seen much death and could not be fooled. “He is dancing with death as we speak. I have done all I can and now it is up to him.”

  Dax glared at the healer with anger dancing in his eyes. Anger not addressed at the healer, but for not being there for his friend. Thade thanked the man for his help and the healer promised he would visit the tavern just after midday to see if all was well, and to change Rayth’s bandages.

  Inside the tavern, Zane entered the common room and looked around. No words were spoken and Ireen pointed upstairs, knowing Zane wanted to see Aurillia. Dax arrived and walked over to Zorain. With a nod, the two men moved into the kitchen where they whispered about what had happened to Rayth. As Thade and Tanas entered the common room, the emotions suffered by the two women boiled over. They rushed over to their partners, threw themselves into the men’s arms, and embraced for a long time. Tears flowed from their eyes—they were
safe.

  Zane rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Reaching the landing, he turned and walked towards Rayth’s bedroom. At the open door, he paused and took a deep breath to regain his composure. He knew he would have to support Aurillia through this ordeal.

  Aurillia turned and saw Zane standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the light from the corridor. Slowly, she left Emyra’s embrace and walked up to him. She gently touched his face and he held her hand against his cheek. She stepped in closer and rested her head on his shoulder; now she felt safe. Her sobs touched the young king deeply. Emyra smiled at Zane and left the two alone in the room, closing the door behind her.

  Emyra returned downstairs and entered the kitchen where Dax and Zorain sat at the table. She smiled wearily at them and reached for the kettle to make herself some tisane. Dax rose from the table, took the hot kettle and turned her towards the table. She looked at the warrior, her eyes full of tears. Lowering the kettle back onto the stove, Dax held Emyra, and for the first time Emyra cried for her friend. Zorain left the two in the kitchen and walked outside, into the cool, fresh air.

  The emotion in the tavern touched the hardened City Watch captain, but now he needed to see his own family. The sun had just started its majestic rise over the horizon, colouring the clouds in shades of pink and orange. In the dim glow, the weary man made his way home; home to see his wife and son.

  Inside, Dax sat Emyra down at the kitchen table and made her some tisane. Placing the hot cup in front of her, he sat down opposite her in silence. He knew better than to press Emyra and would wait until she was ready to talk.

  ***

  Upstairs, Zane moved Aurillia round the bed, pulling her into his lap as he sat on her father’s chair. She still wept, but her sobs were not so intense. He lifted her face and looked into her reddened eyes.

  “Aurillia, I’m so sorry, I wish I was in his place.” Then he mouthed, ‘I love you’.

  Aurillia kissed her man on the lips and rested her head on his shoulder again. The emotion was too much. He had said the right thing but she was wound up too tight to respond. Within minutes, the woman’s breathing evened; she fell asleep, leaving Zane to watch Rayth.