The journey seemed to take forever, being able to see the plains stretched out before them so expansively made it seem as though they were getting nowhere. Kane looked back, once, and the plains behind them were as flat as the ones in front, appearing to stretch on forever without cease. They were glad to make their camp by an old well as the sun hovered low in the sky. Kane drew bucket after bucket up from the well, the ache in his arms compensated by the gratitude of his companions as they drank thirstily and splashed cool water on their faces. Terrell stripped off his surcoat and shirt in one go, and upended the last bucket over his head and broad shoulders, shaking his head like a dog and splashing Cahaya with droplets. She laughed, delightedly, and he did it again, with a broad grin.
“I can get you your own bucket if you’d like, Miss Cahaya,” Kane said, and she nodded after a moment’s hesitation. Kane drew her up some more water, and she retreated behind her tent to bathe, accompanied by Davena. Terrell watched her go, a hungry light in his eyes.
“I thought you’d given up on that,” Kane said, nodding casually in her direction as he smoothed his own damp hair away from his face.
“Looking never hurt anybody,” Terrell said with a shrug.
“Your eyes will get you in trouble, my friend,” Kane shook his head.
“Ah, Kane, she’s blind, she’ll never know.”
“Perhaps not,” Kane said, in a mildly warning tone, “but I will. Try and keep your eyes to yourself.”
Terrell flipped him a lazy salute, and went to scope out the food on offer by the fire, stealing more than he was technically allotted from the protesting Sampson, who was indignantly insisting he should be properly dressed before eating.
Cahaya returned presently to join them, wearing a loose kirtle which left her arms bare, and her headscarf draped loosely over her damp hair. Her feet were bare, and she wiggled her toes in the scrubby grass. Terrell couldn’t keep his eyes off her, and even Kane couldn’t help taking a longer look than he usually would. Between Cahaya’s bare arms and Terrell’s bare torso, the two of them casually sitting beside one another, the whole evening seemed wilder, more feral. There was a charge in the air that hadn’t been there before, and Kane wondered if even Sampson and Davena could sense it.
He took solace in the breeze ruffling his hair, trying to ignore the prickling warmth and closeness of his clothing. Eder, his nose red and peeling from sunburn, looked similarly uncomfortable, but soldiered on throughout the evening.
Davena was the first to retire, exhausted from the heat of the day, and Sampson gave in shortly afterwards, leaving the three Child Guard and Cahaya relaxing around the fire.
“I’ll take first watch if you like,” Terrell said, stretching out in the dying sunlight.
In the distance, a faint peal of thunder rolled, and Kane shrugged. “If the weather breaks before changeover you’ll get soaked.”
“I can live with that,” Terrell shrugged in reply.
Kane looked from him to Cahaya, who seemed content to sit up for a while in the warm night air, and retired to his tent with Eder.
Sure enough, the weather broke and Kane awoke to the sound of torrential rain drumming against the oiled canvas of his shelter. There was a brief squeal from outside, and he sat up and peered out of the tent, alert for an attack.
The squeal had come from Cahaya, and was thankfully only due to the sudden rain. She scrambled to her feet, her kirtle plastered to her body, emphasizing the shape underneath. Terrell was there, beside her, and he half-led, half-carried her back to her tent, bundling her through the opening and almost following himself, before drawing back.
“You should go and put your uniform back on,” Kane heard Cahaya say. “As Davena says, you’ll catch your death of cold.”
“Fine, fine,” Terrell said. “As long as you get changed into something dry. Wouldn’t want you to catch your death either.”
He lowered the tent flap, and Kane waited for him to go over to the well and retrieve his uniform, which would surely be sopping wet by now. Terrell didn’t move, just sat back and waited by Cahaya’s tent. He didn’t notice Kane peering out of his own shelter, water dripping from his hair and down his brow.
Kane waited for a few minutes, until it became obvious Terrell was intending to stay right where he was for a goodly while. He hissed, just low enough to be heard, and Terrell’s head turned, snake-fast, to see him. They exchanged silent glances, Kane’s quizzical, Terrell’s relaxed and cocky, before the bare-chested boy rose quietly to his feet and walked off to the well, as though he’d not been doing anything untoward.
Kane lay awake, listening to the rain, until it stopped as abruptly as it had begun. He expected Terrell to come in and inform him of the changing of the watches, but in the end he kicked off his blankets and went out into the night first.
He found Terrell sitting by the soggy slurry of ashes and rainwater that was all that remained of the fire, an oilskin draped about his shoulders over his sodden surcoat. The temperature had plummeted rapidly after sundown, and the rain had lowered it even further. Kane’s teeth chattered together, but Terrell did not seem to feel the cold.
“I thought I told you to keep your eyes to yourself,” he said, sternly, sitting down across the remains of the fire from Terrell.
“What are you talking about?” Terrell said, with the same old broad, open grin.
“Don’t play stupid with me, Terrell, I’ve known you too long for that.”
Terrell shrugged. “I was enjoying the rain, it’s quite refreshing after a long day’s march.”
“Looked like you were enjoying more than just the rain, my friend.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Kane glared at Terrell, but under the cold moonlight there was the same open, honest face that he’d known for years, blithely staring back at him as though there was nothing wrong. Then, Terrell sighed, and the open, easy smile disappeared behind a cloud.
“I’m going to miss her,” he sighed. “After we present her to the Academy, I’m probably not going to see her again, I realise that now.”
When put into that context, Kane felt quite sorry for his old friend. Perhaps to Terrell there seemed nothing untoward about spending time close to the woman he cared about, drinking in the sight of her before he was forced to bid farewell to her forever. Kane tried to imagine how he’d feel if he knew he’d never see Eder again, and his brain shied away from the thought, involuntarily.
“Just don’t go sneaking around again,” Kane sighed, defeated. “If it had been someone else who saw you they wouldn’t be quite so understanding.”
“You’re a good friend, Kane,” Terrell said, rising to his feet. He strode purposefully off to his tent, and Kane watched him to make sure he selected the right one, just in case.
The next day, everyone seemed to be sore and stiff from sun exposure. Eder in particular looked wilted and miserable at the prospect of another full day with the sun beating down on him. Davena liberally distributed a soothing ointment which made everyone feel a bit fresher, and she offered Eder and Sampson, the two worst affected, spare scarves which she’d picked up in Dathanna. Sampson declined, haughtily, but Eder wasn’t proud, and accepted the covering gracefully. He draped it over his fair hair, in much the same manner as Cahaya did, looping the spare end around his shoulders.
As they walked, Kane noticed him continually adjusting the covering, twitching it aside from his neck in an odd little tic. The old scar on Eder’s neck, usually bright white, was already an angry red from the sun, but he seemed to not care about the pain and heat. After the tenth time Kane saw him doing it, he reached up and put the covering more firmly in place himself, tucking it in around Eder’s throat so it could not be so easily disturbed. Eder’s face went pinker, underneath his sunburn, but he didn’t try to expose the brand again.
They travelled in the searing heat for a further week, the road stretching away infinitely before and behind them. On the ninth day since they had
left the Tirim bridge, the horizon seemed to draw closer, and the air became fresh and salty. The sun was setting behind them, casting long shadows onto the road ahead, by the time they crested the hill and beheld Auris.
From where they stood it was a tiny twinkling jewel set against the dazzling brightness of the sea. It would be another day’s march at least, but now they could see their destination, and it looked to be a smooth downhill ramble to the gates of the city.
That night, around the fire, the mood was jovial and light, the burden of their journey almost lifted. The only person who didn’t seem to share in the good humour was Terrell, who whilst not actively sulky, was not quite as visibly relieved as the others to see the diamond in the sands that was Auris. The last of their supplies made for quite a feast, and the inky black of night had permeated quite far across the sky before the first person made a move to retire for the night.
But retire they did, eventually, leaving Kane and, after a moment’s brief thought, Eder by the fire together.
“Well that’s that, I suppose,” Kane said, “Mission accomplished.”
Eder unwrapped the scarf from where it had hung for the past few hours around his neck, and after a brief deliberation put it around his upper arms, like a shawl. “Don’t jinx it,” he said. “You’re usually more careful about putting such an obvious hex on things.”
“It’s one more day, if that. Then we find the Aurian garrison, hand Cahaya over to this Academy, and we’re done.”
“Very neat and tidy,” Eder replied, twiddling absently with the pendant around his neck. “And then what?”
“Well, that was the bit I was rather leaving to you to decide,” Kane said, all nonchalance on the outside but his insides were a confused storm of excitement and hope and dread. He half-expected Eder to leave, or to curl in on himself again, but all that came forth was a long sigh.
“Where would we go?”
Kane’s heart leapt, but he was determined not to show it prematurely. “Anywhere we like. There’s a whole big world out there, I’m sure there’s room.”
“For someone like me? I doubt there’s a space anywhere that I’d fit.”
“We could go somewhere where nobody knows us, where there’s no Temple or Child Guard.”
“We’re going to end up in the Forest of Ciaradh if those are your criteria,” Eder said, and Kane laughed.
“I don’t know, there’s loads of tiny villages dotted around Lake Spéir. You can learn to fish and I’ll learn to grow things and we’ll be fine.”
“You sound like you’ve made up your mind already. What if I don’t want to run away? What if I want to stay in the Child Guard and serve for the rest of my days?”
“Do you?”
Eder didn’t look at him. “The point is you can’t base your decisions on me. I’m flighty and indecisive, I can’t even decide who I am and how I feel ab-“ he cut himself off mid-word, lifting his chin and staring into the distance. “I can’t decide anything about myself, let alone where I should go or what I should do.”
“That’s all right,” Kane said. “All you have to decide right now is if you want to go back to the Citadel or not. The rest is detail, we’ve got all the time in the world to work that out. I know I’m not the same person I was when I left, maybe I could try some reinvention in a little village somewhere. I could be John the farmer, or Aaron the fisherman. And you could be Thomas the hunter, or-“
“Ederne the gardener,” Eder said, half to himself.
“Ederne? Isn’t that…” Kane trailed off awkwardly.
“A girl’s name?” Eder finished the sentence for him. “I insisted upon it when I was young so adamantly, I might as well reclaim it if I’m leaving this whole life behind.”
“It’s nice,” Kane said. “Does it make you happy?”
Eder considered, head cocked to one side, for a good solid minute, rolling it around in his head. A faint smile crossed his face. “It feels right.”
“Then keep it,” Kane said. “And once this is all over and done we can go somewhere different and you can be Ederne and I can be... I can be…”
“You can stay as Kane,” Eder said firmly. “I don’t think you’d suit being anyone else. I like you just as you are.”
Kane couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face.
19. Auris
“The Golden Prince Hafiz, in accordance with the terms laid down by the Cruachan King Leofric, decrees that henceforth there shall be stationed in Auris a garrison of the Child Guard, to defend against the threat of the Sidhe. Only by uniting as humans can we stand against the darkness encroaching...”
Excerpt from the Aurian Edicts, following the Treaty of Human Princes, presided over by King Leofric of Cruach
The journey down towards Auris was as easy as Kane had thought it would be. With the fresh sea air blowing in from the south, the heat wasn’t quite so unbearable, and they made good time, reaching the gates of Auris as the sky washed pink with the sunset.
The aforementioned gates were massive, ten times the height of a man. Kane had never seen a gate so big in all his life, but from the looks of the heavy rust around the hinges, they were seldom used for defence. The city inside, although winding down for the night and not as noisy as Dathanna had been, was still busy, the streets full of people bustling to and fro.
Their uniforms seemed to engender little respect once more, and they found themselves bumped and elbowed and shoved together until they were a tight knot around Cahaya, sitting atop the pony out of reach of it all. Enraged by the lack of reverence, Sampson forced his way over to a smithy which was shutting up shop for the night.
“We require directions to the Child Guard garrison in this city,” he said, brusquely.
The smith didn’t seem to hear him at first, and Sampson repeated his question, louder and more clearly. After the third try, the smith glowered down at the Immaculatus, but Sampson held his ground and eventually the man gave in.
“Mazin!” he hollered into the darkness of the shop. “Get here, you useless boy, I’ve a job for you!”
The unfortunate Mazin turned out to be a rangy youth with black, curly hair and the scrubby beginnings of a beard, who moved with a quickness that belied his slightly vacant expression. He led them through the narrow streets of Auris without a word. The buildings were so different to the vaulted halls of the Citadel Kane had grown up with, he found himself gawping and dawdling at the fantastic curves of the doorways, the bright murals daubed on the walls, and the way the people of Auris seemed to live half-in, half-out of their houses at all times. Several times they passed people sitting down to eat supper, basically in the street, with rugs and cushions in place of benches and tables.
Mazin was not the best guide, in his haste to deliver them to their destination he kept ducking suddenly down side streets, getting halfway down before realising he had left them behind and returning with a sulky look, as though it was their fault. Kane quickly lost track of the twists and turns of their route, but he was aware they were vaguely following the line of the walls, which cast the streets around them into almost total darkness.
They passed through a district murkier than the rest, which stank of sweat and heavy perfume. There were girls in the windows above them, no, women, who whistled and whooped and mocked them when they failed to respond.
“Did you see that lady with the-“ Terrell muttered, under his breath.
“Yes.” Kane replied flatly.
“But she was barely-“
“I know.”
“Was it strictly necessary to take us through there?” Sampson asked Mazin, crisply.
“Shortest route I know,” Mazin said, with an expressive shrug.
The Aurian garrison turned out to be a small, squat complex nestled against the city walls. Everything about it was familiar, from the shape of the gates to the curious guards peering at them from over the walls. Mazin disappeared as soon as it came into view, scuttling off back into the rabbit warren that was
Auris.
Kane felt oddly like he’d arrived home, but as they drew closer it became a shabby replica, the gates and walls in poor repair.
There were two guards on the gate, a boy and a girl, and Kane saluted them smartly.
“Brother-Corporal Kane, Ninth Citadel Battalion, reporting to senior officer of Aurian garrison as per orders.”
Both guards saluted him back, but he noticed the girl, her white-blond hair making a sharp contrast with her nut-brown skin, looking him up and down with scarcely hidden disdain.
“Welcome to Auris, Brother-Corporal,” the other guard, a tall, lean boy with hair shaved close to the skin, glared at his companion. “I am Brother-Sergeant Erhard, this is Sist- I mean, Private Avila, of the Aurian Garrison, and we will be happy to escort you to Garrison Commander Rayner.”
Kane didn’t look down, but could see from both of their expressions that Avila had just had her foot quite firmly stepped on. She smiled, but it was closer to a grimace than any genuine display of happiness. Erhard turned smartly and led the way inside. Kane and the squad followed, and the sour-faced blond girl took up the rear. They emerged into a wide courtyard, which again felt familiar, and Erhard turned to Cahaya.
“You can stable your pony with ours if you’d like, Miss,” he said, and Cahaya gave a gracious smile in his direction.
“Thank you very much, Brother-Sergeant,” she said, and Terrell stepped in to lift her down from the pony, his hands lingering on her longer than usual. A young novice stablehand came out to meet them, and Davena and Cahaya were taken off for refreshments by another novice. Sampson followed them, as was his habit.
The three Child Guard continued on into the garrison proper, through winding corridors that felt hauntingly familiar. They had none of the gentle curves of Aurian architecture, this was good solid Citadel construction, all sharp angles and points. There was the smell of home in the air, stew and oiled steel, and the faint haze of the Elixir Innocentiae hanging over it all. They reached a set of heavy oaken doors, and Erhard rapped sharply on them.
The Child Guard Page 20