A black-cloaked guard in ring mail armor stood above him, swinging his spear back with two hands in prelude to skewering a defenseless Damper. Jaiden, left for dead, surprised both himself and the guard when he was able to push onto his knees and use his shield to bash the spear out of the man’s hands.
Unlike previous forays into the dream-like world of Criesha’s realm, the vigor he felt while there carried over to his waking world. He jumped from his knees to his feet and felt no pain doing so. Looking to his right hand, he saw the sword it gripped radiating an aura of greenish light the same hue as the dominant moon on a cloudless night. With a confidence absent since the siege of Halidor, Jaiden attacked with the controlled fury of an animal trained to kill and kept too long in its cage.
The first guard fell to his sword before reaching the spear he dropped. Jaiden was too quick for his enemy’s reactions. He could generate enough power from one stroke to the next, without need to wind up or recoil, that he simply abused their defenses. Jaiden could evade the swing of a sword and redirect his momentum while his opponents were still in their follow-through.
Guards two, three, and four fell in rapid succession, hardly even threatening this new terror on the battlefield. Saffron almost attacked Jaiden as he moved past, clearly not expecting help from her backside. “You are using both legs!” She glanced at his glowing sword. “Has Palomar unleashed your inner magic, too?”
“Explanations later,” he replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the Chelpian forces. Side-by-side they advanced, and Jaiden made sure none of the enemy could get close enough to harm the Dampers. He waded into the midst of a melee, sundered a soldier’s shield with a powerful down-stroke, and eviscerated his esophagus as he brought his blade upward again.
When the rest of the nearby fighting men saw this display, combined with the unearthly luminosity of his weapon, they ceased hostility and willingly gave up arms in surrender. Even the last war-priest on the execution platform, deprived by Sir Golddrake and company of his remaining protectors, relented and sued for mercy.
Though the toll on the Order of the Rising Moon had been heavy, Blackthorn Prison was won.
Chapter 20
Spoils of Victory
T hough the battle was hard-fought, Jaiden had enough experience to realize winning the fortress of Blackthorn was only the first challenge. The Order of the Rising Moon lacked the numbers to hold the prison against an inevitable assault by the Empire of Chelpa, and they held no real interest in doing so – but the Chelpians hardly knew that. The true obstacle before them was extricating their troops safely back across the northern border.
The ships were of no help to them now. As per their bargain, Cladius Cyril was using them to haul away as much raw uril-chent as could be pulled from the mines beneath Blackthorn. He offered a free ride to any prisoners who willingly helped load the material into his cargo holds.
Once word of the attack reached the ears of the King-priest, and the Order had every intention of spreading it, the Chelpian authorities would have an easy enough time deciphering how the invaders arrived. Returning to Talon Barge would be inviting an ambush.
Cyril was aware of this and stated he had no intention of returning to the riverside city with these same boats, nor in the near future under any circumstances. He was not above laying low, and informed the Rising Moon’s leadership he would continue downstream with his bounty until reaching the sea, and then cross the Cauldron of Xyanarind before unloading it.
The remainder of the Order was going to have to find another way. They agreed a controlled release of the news of their victory would best serve their purposes, for though they wanted to draw the King-priest back from his northern conquest, they also needed ample time to escape enemy lands.
Jaiden was invited to attend council with Sir Golddrake, Baron Rogan, Sir Kilborn, and Lady Saffron. Palomar declined, citing his zeal to teach the Song of Redemption to his kindred as soon as possible.
“I think we should keep at least some of the prisoners until a few more Dampers have made the transition to Aasimar,” Rogan suggested. “Let them see the number of angelic creatures growing, before we release them.”
Jaiden nodded and turned to Sir Golddrake. “Such a story would no doubt cause great alarm amongst Ebon Khorel’s elite. When the King-priest captured me at Halidor, he was desperate for news of Palomar. To hear he now faces a host of Aasimar might give him second thoughts about opposing us at all.” He felt Rogan’s eyes on him and glanced to see both the Baron and Saffron staring. Uncomfortable under their gaze, he returned focus to his Master.
“Agreed.” Sir Golddrake shifted his weight on his crutch and sat down on the closed lid of a nearby footlocker. “Uncertainty about the force they must conquer might slow a violent response against the fortress, and buy us more time to escape.
“Leaving Palomar and his fellow Aasimar to guard Blackthorn should not carry much risk. Once imperial reinforcements arrive they can simply abandon the prison and fly to safety. How long, Sir Kilborn, until our wounded are ready to travel?”
Sir Kilborn stroked his beard while considering, and Jaiden noticed it was longer than he remembered. He must not have trimmed it since leaving the caves.
“Not as long as it will take to bury our dead – more have crossed over than are left standing.” He dropped the hand from his face and shrugged, “We should be able to depart by third dawn.”
The Order had arrived with twenty-five cavalry and twice as many footmen, though they were down to a mere thirty souls. Jaiden counted. Saffron found enough horses in the prison’s stables for every remaining man to have a mount, which would boost their speed across the dangerous country.
Over the next couple days, Jaiden’s popularity among his brethren vaulted tremendously. They already knew how capable Jaiden was with a sword in his hand, and upon revealing how Criesha miraculously healed him during battle, he achieved legendary status.
Sir Golddrake positively beamed with pride when they spoke. “I told you your destiny awaited you.” He declared before his men that Jaiden Luminere was their goddess’s Champion, and more victories would follow in their wake.
For his part, Jaiden felt reborn. The tremendous joy at being whole once more was something he never anticipated, even while wishing for it with all his heart. He planned not to take a single breath of his regained freedom for granted, and rededicated himself to his training. Realizing their return to the Northern Provinces might not be an easy trip, he nevertheless found it difficult to refrain from making plans for the future, now that it was once again something worth looking forward to.
In his effort to start anew, Jaiden even spent time with Baron Rogan, wandering the corridors of the uril-chent mines. The man deserved thanks for planning the assault and for helping Saffron rescue her sister, from what he was told. In the dark, cramped confines of the mine, Jaiden’s growing appreciation for what Rogan had gone through softened his lingering dislike. Although there was room for him to stand erect, Jaiden crouched slightly as they walked. He felt mildly claustrophobic, and could not imagine working in such a place every day for over three years.
Rogan reached up and ran his hand along a vein of obsidian ore in the ceiling, only a narrow span above his head. Smoother than the surrounding black rock, it glinted when the light of his torch touched it at the proper angle. “There it is – the uril-chent in its natural form. Before I got here, the men would all get sick after a month or two of mining. Something about the raw metal brings on illness. Until it is refined and mixed into an alloy, the ore is exceedingly dangerous. Prisoners kept dying off until the Dampers were brought in; the gods only know how they figured out that connection.”
“What put you in here, if I may ask?” Jaiden heard that Rogan had been imprisoned, but no one seemed able to share why.
Rogan seemed to consider carefully before speaking. “When the King-priest was first establishing his power over Chelpa, he sought to neutralize any of the nobility who might speak or act
against him. As you can guess, his regime was not popular, yet many of us still underestimated the deeds he was capable of seeing through. I was put in this place, I suppose, because I was seen as a threat to the control he craved.”
Although not a very specific answer, Jaiden gleaned enough to suit his curiosity. He imagined they were both men shaped by the events they had endured. “I am sorry for you; it must have been very unpleasant here.”
Rogan smiled at the understatement. “Jaiden Luminere, you have no idea.” He took a quick look down the passage they were following, then turned around. “You have probably seen enough. Let us return topside, shall we?”
Jaiden agreed, choosing not to add he felt physically uncomfortable in the warm confines of the tunnels. When they had climbed the Tower of a Thousand Stairs, Rogan went his own way, making an excuse about preparing for their departure the following morning. Jaiden suspected he really wanted to sneak off and visit Saffron, but did not push the issue. He desired to speak with Palomar once more before they parted ways.
In two days since the battle, Palomar had spent almost every moment of his time with the rescued Dampers in a suite of rooms, separated from the mortals. Sir Golddrake decreed that their privacy be respected, and Palomar rarely came forth on his own.
Jaiden knew he was trying to teach the Song of Redemption to his kin, but the task was apparently more difficult than it sounded. A short visit would not be too much of a bother, he decided, and he had a question he thought his winged friend might be best suited to answer.
Approaching the wing where the Dampers had retreated for their metamorphosis, Jaiden could hear singing from well down the hall. The voices themselves were strong and in tune, but it sounded as if the music was discordant. When he peeked into the room where the song originated, he saw Palomar was not the only Aasimar present.
Three others had joined him, and they were all sitting cross-legged on the flagstone floor, singing a tune that a dozen Dampers tried to faithfully emulate. They all stopped suddenly when several spotted Jaiden.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, biting his lower lip. “It really was lovely.”
Palomar rushed to stand upon seeing him in the doorway. “Kindred, this is Jaiden Luminere. He is the one who has been instructing me on swordplay.”
“Yes, the one with the glowing sword. We remember.” A second voice intruded upon Jaiden’s mind, startling him, though he should have guessed the others would communicate the same as Palomar.
“Jaiden,” Palomar gestured toward the Aasimar standing nearest to him, “this is Illicurus. He was a Marshall among the Aasimar before our… change.”
Illicurus stared at Jaiden, unmoving, and did nothing to give away whether it had been he who spoke. His skin was alabaster just as Palomar’s, but instead of spun gold, the hair on his head was an icy blue, as if made of frozen water. The tips of his wing feathers were likewise colored, and he wore a commandeered tunic, tied around his waist to cover him.
“Greetings.” Jaiden lifted his palm. Looking at them together, he could hardly imagine two creatures less alike than the Dampers and Aasimar. “What caused your change, anyway? Didn’t you say it was some sort of curse, Palomar?” He blurted the question before thinking, only realizing it might be a sensitive subject when he saw the look that passed between Palomar and Illicurus.
“I suppose it would be all right to share our story with a mortal,” Illicurus projected tentatively, his mindspeech more deliberate than Palomar’s. “We have already paid the price for our choice, after all. Our shame should not be any greater for having the truth known.”
Palomar nodded at his superior and kept his head low, deferring to Illicurus to recite the tale of their fall.
“It is difficult to describe to one of your realm what it is like on Mount Celestia. Your world, Jaiden, is essentially flat. Oh, there are instances of different elevation, hills and valleys, but this is not what I mean. Here, the earth is but one layer, which can be folded and bent to different heights, but remains a continuous plane on the whole.
“Our home is different. You can ascend Mount Celestia and find numerous layers along the way that extend beyond the horizon. It is like a series of interconnected realms, at the same time separate and yet one. The higher up the Mountain, the more – what is the right word, Palomar? The more glorious the inhabitants, one might say. And you cannot even compare the splendor of our two worlds. Your greatest garden, your most beautiful waterfall, your most breathtaking sunrise, they would all be common fare on Mount Celestia.”
Illicurus did not seem hesitant as he described his home world, and Jaiden wondered what the earlier exchange between he and Palomar was truly about. His friend continued to keep his head low, and the other Aasimar and Dampers remained sitting, their heads lowered as well.
“We Aasimar naturally reside fairly high along the slope, though all creatures may move freely to layers lower than those of their birth. Near the roots of Mount Celestia there are also doorways into other realms, if you know where to find them – some that lead to unsavory places.
“A tribe of lesser beings, Ulimar, had built a settlement unfortunately close to one of these doorways. Constantly harassed by creatures from the darker realms, they had a hard time protecting themselves as the attacks became more persistent. The Lord of the Second Layer, Hiruth Jeshu, may His light shine forever, bade a company of Aasimar go stay with the embattled Ulimar and protect them from encroaching predators of the dark.
“We could not simply take the Ulimar to a higher layer for safety, for their birth prevented it. We defended strike after strike from the denizens of the Darker Planes, who simply would not leave our charges alone. Enemies were drawn to them, it seemed. What was more, so ferocious became the attacks that we began to lose Aasimar to these incursions as well. As their Marshall, I found that unacceptable, but our Lord insisted the lessers be protected.
“One day, after losing another several Aasimar to a raid, we decided it was enough. Each Aasimar was worth ten of the Ulimar, perhaps a hundred, we reasoned. Why should we continue to die to save these creatures too weak to defend themselves? So, the next time the beasts came from the dark, we did not repel them. We flew off a distance and watched as the Ulimar were eradicated, weary of wasting our lives for theirs. This decision did not sit well with Hiruth Jeshu, may his light shine forever, and we were punished severely.”
Jaiden filled in the rest of the story for himself. The Aasimar’s curse had been to become weak themselves, banished to this less-spectacular world to pay their penance. He empathized that Palomar had to endure pain and sadness, but he could not say he thought the punishment completely undeserved.
“So what will you do now, once you all have been restored to your old bodies?” Jaiden thought it a fair question. After hearing the Aasimars’ tale, he assumed they would want to return to Mount Celestia as soon as they were able.
“I, for one, would seek not to repeat the mistake that brought us here,” Palomar answered, finally raising his head. “I will not abandon our Order, Jaiden, even though we are not from the same realm. I will stay as long as the evil of the King-priest endures, or until it is clear I am no longer needed to defeat it.”
Palomar looked at Illicurus as he shared his next words, “I hope to convince the others to stay and fight as well, given our collective debt to the Order for our freedom.”
The Aasimar Marshall stared at Palomar, but shared no words with Jaiden.
“I should let you get back to your task, but I wanted to seek your advice before we leave, Palomar.”
“What would you like to know?”
In the midst of such powerful creatures, Jaiden suddenly felt too humble to ask. He found himself looking at the floor, avoiding his friend’s golden pupils as he searched for the right words. “I have always known how to fight, so that is not the part I am worried about… it’s just that, well, none of these people knew me before my injury.”
“And?”
“I
mean, none of them have really expected anything from me before. Now, all of a sudden, I am ‘Criesha’s Champion,’ and I’m not sure how to handle people depending on me.” It sounded so awkward, once spoken out loud.
Palomar’s lips tightened, but Jaiden could not tell if he meant to smile or frown. “Merely recovering from your injury has already changed the Jaiden I knew. It will not be the last time such a thing happens.” Palomar placed his hand on Jaiden’s shoulder, and he looked up to meet the Aasimar’s gaze. “Though others may lift you up, seek not the heights for yourself, and you should do well. If you become great, as I believe you will, let those you serve be the beneficiaries of that greatness, and it will never be a burden.”
Jaiden nodded. “Thank you, Palomar. I trust you know we depart in the morning? I wanted to bid you farewell in person, and tell you I look forward to the next time we meet.”
“As do I, Champion of Criesha.” Palomar clearly smiled, and Jaiden could not help but do the same.
He wished luck to all the present and soon-to-be Aasimar, then took his leave and sought out his final dinner in Blackthorn. They would be covering as much ground as they could, hoping to avoid confrontation, and restful mealtimes might be in short supply. It was also the last night he anticipated not sleeping on the ground, for a while anyway. Even if his bed was only a prison bunk, he had his own room, and wanted to get one last night of rest without the usual symphony of snoring to contend with.
Jaiden had avoided Saffron since the battle, too nervous to make the move he had looked forward to for weeks. Strangely, anticipation of a longer life had made him a coward in some ways. He retreated to bed early, bowing out once again, though he fell asleep thinking of her beautiful face, and wishing her warm body was beside his.
Shiver the Moon Page 31