© 2010, Patrick Hester.  All Rights Reserved

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“Elias SanRian, my Lord,” Valenz said quietly.  “His name is on the rolls.”

It was the middle of the night and the boy’s personal guard detail slumbered softly in a chair next to the bed.  The Magistrate leaned over the boy, peering into the shadows covering his face.  With a tentative finger, he reached out and light touched the tip of his finger to his nose.  A quick pop/spark raised his eyebrows.

“That is not possible,” he whispered.  He could not see someone, touch them, test them and have them walk away – there would have been a spark, a sign just as there was now.  This made him more uneasy than he had been for a very long time.  “Has he shown any signs of improvement?”

“The Engineers do not like discussing him,” Valenz offered.

“No,” he whispered.  “I don’t suppose they would.”

“What little they would say is that they have repaired the damage, but his mind seems preoccupied.”

“Hmm,” he said.  “I wonder where he is.”  Again he reached a tentative finger out, but this time, he pressed it firmly against the boy’s forehead and the world around him dissolved.

* * *

“Xanh?”

Xanh looked up from the wood he’d been sanding to see Ahleen standing in the doorway of his workshop, her odd yellow hair pulled over one shoulder.  Normally, she wore it up.  Smiling, he replaced his tools in their places upon the rack and set the wood on the bench – he wasn’t yet sure what it was going to be, he was simply glad he didn’t have to continue making weapons – three seasons of that was enough for him.  Maybe a musical instrument?

“Ahleen!” he said with a smile as he turned.

“Eileen,” she corrected him and he wasn’t sure what he’d said wrong.  She shook her head and smiled, so it must have been all right.  “I hope I’m not intruding but your father is busy.”  Each word was said slowly, measured and he smiled again.  She had come a long way in understanding their language.  Pity the other members of her retinue did not seem as eager to learn as she, but then, perhaps that was simply the way of the Humans.

“You are not intruding, and the duty of the Paentar often keeps my father busy.”

“You all say that, ‘the Paentar’ – I thought that was your father’s name – Paentar?”

“Name?  No.  More like his title, I suppose.  He is The Paentar.  A ruler, an elder – the one everyone looks to for guidance.  Do you not have such in your lands?”

“We do, I suppose.  We call them ‘Kings’ but perhaps ‘Majesty’ is a better comparison.”

“Mahgistie?”  She chuckled at his pronunciation but nodded a ‘yes’.

They walked out and down the path, Xanh waving to a few friends as the An’lo’san took up their perimeter around the small group.  Ahleen had three of her Humans with her, each wearing the metal clothing they seemed to prefer.  Between the two groups of Guardians, Xanh wondered that there hadn’t been incidents and clashes, especially the way they looked at each other.

“What is that place?  No one will say…”

Xanh glanced where she pointed and shook his head.  The Garden had a Wall of Stone covered in bracken and vines to protect it; the ancient gate, carved centuries ago by the First looked worn, possibly brittle, but anyone who attempted to force it would find it quite strong.  They were certainly curious, these Humans, but he agreed with his father – there were some things they simply were not ready for.  Perhaps in another dozen seasons or so.

“A sacred place to us,” was all he said.

“You have so many secrets,” she replied, and he cocked his head.

“Secrets?”

“Things you keep hidden?”

“I think you misunderstand, Ahleen.  We are cautious about our knowledge, yes, but we have reasons for all we do.  After hundreds of seasons, we understand, but it took hundreds of seasons…”

“You think we are unready then?”

“We are simply cautious.  You make wonderful strides, you need only be patient.”

She stopped, turning towards him, her strange, blue eyes so small as they stared up at him, so utterly alien.  He wondered if she were considered pretty by her people.

“I suppose some things are worth waiting for.  I thank you for the walk, but I’ve become tired and wish to retire to our tents.  If you will excuse us?”

Without waiting for an answer, she moved off, her retinue following after and the An’lo’san shadowing them all.  Xanh shook his head sadly.  They looked so much like children that he sometimes forgets they are adults, and adults do not always see the wisdom in patience.

“Yes,” he said aloud.  “I think it will be a musical instrument.”

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Chapter Thirty-Seven

“We’ll be vulnerable until the next lottery and that’s a year away.  I don’t have enough men to maintain the patrols.”

“I understand, Captain,” the Magistrate said.  “How are the women assimilating?”

Shen snorted.  “Well enough.  There is a reason they had their own Keep, my Lord.  They are most… distracting to the men.”

“The men will have to suffer through,” the Magistrate said wryly.  “I’m sure it is a burden, but one they will have to bear.”

“That brings us to another point, my Lord,” Shen said.  Suddenly the man refused to look at him.  For the past hour he’d been raging like an animal, nostrils flaring, face flushed.  Now he looked positively ill.  Interesting, he thought.

“Yes?” he said aloud.

“There was an escape.”

“Ah,” it was the Magistrate’s turn to snort.  He’d already decided that particular situation was delicious.  “Anything North of Evermist is not our concern, Captain.  Give it no more thought,” he waved his hand.  It was a dismissal.  When Shen did not move, his surprise was apparent.

“I am not talking about that which escaped North.  I am talking about that which escaped South.“  Shen took a deep breath and then held a piece of paper before him.  It was yellowed parchment, folded in the center and used by the military for their official communications.  Taking it with a snap, he opened it and read the contents.  It was written in a quick, precise hand.

ATTACK ON CORRAC’AMOR
MULTIPLE CATS-AT LEAST ONE DOZEN
DOZENS DEAD, MORE WOUNDED
SEND HELP

The Magistrate crumpled the paper in his hands.  “Can you send help?”

“No.  Not for days, maybe weeks at the rate the Engineers are… helping.”  Twice now, the Magistrate had explained that the word was ‘healing’, but the Captain refused to adopt it.  He didn’t know what they were doing, only that wounded men went in one door and came out another feeling better if not fully recovered and he chalked it all up to magic.

Superstitious nonsense.

“If the Engineers can work faster?” he asked.

“Then I could send help, but we are dangerously low on hale soldiers as it is.  We can barely muster a skeleton patrol.  If I send men to the main land, I’ll have to stop the patrols all together.”

“A large force would be unwise,” the Magistrate said.  He had visions of the common man seeing a large, armed military force moving through their townships and shuddered.  They would think it some sort of invasion.  They send their sons and daughters away to the military but few had ever seen them come back, let alone in large numbers.  “We need a squad.  Maybe two.  Your best trackers and hunters.”

“My best trackers are Jaycn and Eli, and Eli hasn’t woken up yet.”

“Well then,” the Magistrate sighed.  “We best wake him up.”

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Chapter Thirty-Six

The Magistrate stared out at the bay and beyond the horizon, his eyes focusing for a moment on the mountains above Corrac’amor before coming to rest on the Tower of Valles so very far away.  It was an old thing, a gift they had said, to be able to See.  He never thought of it so.  Still, today, with a feeling of unease growing within him, it was a pleasant if momentary distraction to be able to see home so easily.

Turning from the window, he closed his eyes.  Beneath him, through the stone of the keep, down through the foundation and deep into the earth itself, he could feel the rumbling.  It troubled him.

Not for the first time, he found his feet moving on their own and had to stop himself from leaving the room and heading into parts of the Keep he alone remembered even existed.

A slight shifting in the air, imperceptible to anyone else, is his only indication that he is no longer alone.  Turning, he smiled at Valenz.

“He still slumbers, Lord.”

(more…)

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Chapter Thirty-Five

Eli stood before a massive stone door.  Reaching out, he ran his finger along the intricate patterns depicting trees, bushes and grass.  It struck a chord in his memory, this image of a Great Forest.  He shook his head, trying to remember where and when he’d seen anything like this.  Even the tapestries along the walls of the Keep did not have the level of detail he saw here.

The Wall stretched as far as he could see left and right, the door set within the stone and ending just at the edge of the light above him.  It made no sense for it to be here.

“Have you gone through?” asked a voice.

“No,” he answered.

“You should,” said the voice.  He felt a hand press against his back, giving him a shove forward.  He lost his balance, toppling towards the door.  Raising his hands, he tried to stop himself from slamming face-first into the stone and found that he stumbled forward without ever hitting it.  Warmth spread across his skin and he lowered his arms to see that he was standing on an impossibly ancient stone, one of thousands forming a road twice as wide as any he’d ever seen.  Above him a blue sky replaced the canopy of leaves and a bright sun caused him to blink and squint.  Looking South, he saw that the road stretched nearly to the unfamiliar mountains on the horizon, cutting a swatch through the Great Forest surrounding him.  To the North, it disappeared into that same Forest, swallowed by trees older and larger than he was used to seeing. (more…)

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Chapter Thirty-Four

Narut touched Jaycn on the shoulder.  The older man had been nodding off as he sat his watch over Elias.  His friend slept like the dead, never moving, barely breathing.  Whatever the Engineers had done, it was slow working.  They said he would need several more sessions before he would be safe and on his way to properly healing.  Until then, Jaycn, Narut and the others had taken it upon themselves to watch over Eli.

“I’m fine,” Jaycn protested as Narut dragged him to his feet.

“You are not. You need sleep.  I’ll take this watch,” Narut answered him softly, but firm.  Jaycn grumbled as he left, but he did leave.  Narut settled into the chair beside Eli’s bed, wondering what the Engineers had done.  Everyone he talked to said the same thing; they were taken into a dark room and told to breathe deeply.  Soon, they found it difficult to keep their eyes open and the next thing they knew, they woke back in the infirmary, their wounds healing, pain lessened or completely gone.  The worse the wounds, the longer it took to be healed.

Eli had been among the worst. (more…)

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Chapter Thirty-Three

The Magistrate walked beside Shen, Captain of Deisarch Dain.  Valenz trailed them like a shadow as they stepped into the room acting as a triage for all the casualties.  The attack had been coordinated and deadly and completely unexpected.  The men of the Militia had been slaughtered.

“I’ve lost nearly half my forces,” Shen continued.  He’d been talking for so long the Magistrate wondered how his voice hadn’t gone hoarse.  “And another half lie wounded or dying.  I know that the Engineers are helping, but…”

Devastating, the Magistrate thought, trying to ignore what the Captain was trying very hard not to say.  In truth, he couldn’t blame the Captain his distrust of the miserable little creatures.  If he had his way, they would be rid of them.  Of course, everything would fall apart inside of a year.  He stared at a dark skinned man sitting on the floor, trying to hold his intestines inside his stomach.

“Six months,” he muttered, not really seeing the man.

“My Lord?” asked the Captain.  The Magistrate jumped as if goosed. (more…)

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Chapter Thirty-Two

Valenz watched from the parapets as far below, the Militia wagons brought in the wounded, dead and dying from the massacre.  He shook his head at the word, though he knew it fit better than anything else he could come up with.  From a distance, he’d observed the damage to the Wall, worse than anything he’d seen before and that was going back a ways.  They had nearly breached through to the far side when the retreat was called.

He shook his head again; that was applying military tactics and stratagems to something more animalistic and instinctual than strategic; like putting your hand in a flame, you pull it back because it hurts, not because it makes strategic sense.

“Valenz?”

Making his way back into the tower, Valenz walked over to the stone chair and waited.  The Magistrate sat rigid; his face could’ve been carved from the stone itself.  The battle with the Engineers had taken its toll on him but the end result was rolling in through the gates this very minute.  Again he shook his head, applying military terms to things.  It came from another life long, long ago.  You’d think he would’ve forgotten all of that by now. (more…)

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Chapter Thirty-One

In the Tower of Valles, where the walls are covered in cream and gold, a discordant note vibrated the very foundations as the Magistrate, high atop the Tower, staggered as if struck and cried out.  Spiraling to the floor, he collapsed into a heap of robes and lay there twitching; arms and legs refusing to respond.

Valenz appeared as if from nowhere, melting away from the walls and rushing to his master’s side.

“My Lord?  What is it?  What has happened?”

Eyes that could not see him stared unfocused at the ceiling of the room and a voice that was strained answered, “Evermist…  Take me…  Hurry…  Engineers…” (more…)

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Okay peoples – over on the downloads page, I have put up Chapters 11-20 and Chapters 21-30 as PDF’s that you can download and read whenever you like.

Because I spent some time working on that, I’m going to take this week off from a regular chapter but new chapters will begin again next Friday, the 14th of May!

~P

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© 2010, Patrick Hester.  All Rights Reserved

Chapter Thirty

The sound of wagon wheels on stone could be heard long before Elias actually saw the wagon itself.  The horses became visible first; a team of four whites gleaming in the midday sun.  They wore harnesses of red leather and pulled a coach painted bright red – even the Coachman wore red from head to toe.  Two flags flew on poles above the coach, whipping in the wind – one red and black and one gray and black.  He had no idea what they meant and couldn’t remember ever seeing them before; Paerleon’s flag was a black tower against a red and white checkerboard.

Jaycn rode beside the wagon yet apart, surrounded by four riders all in black.  They wore helms of black with great big plumes that fluttered and swayed and masks that covered their faces.  Long black coats covered them to their high boots of polished black leather.  Twin sword hilts could be seen over their shoulders and they each carried two rifles just as Jaycn did.  Looking back to the Coachman, he noticed that he or she was also masked.  Each mask appeared to be a sculpted face; the Coachman wore a smile, the Black Rider’s an angry snarl.

Klen stepped passed him, causing him to jump as he made his way to the coach just coming to a stop.  Klen waited patiently for the Coachman to come down and set the steps in place.  Jaycn hopped from his horse and tossed the reins to the hostler – the men on horseback flanking him stayed mounted, each moving to positions where they faced the squad but were between all but Klen and the coach, their angry masks slowly scanning the soldiers.  Eli shared a quick glance with Narut, who shrugged.

“The Elites,” Jaycen said softly as he came to stand next to Eli.  “Advice – don’t stare at him.” (more…)

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