Circle of Reign (50 page)

“Not if that isn’t their destination,” Jayden responded.

Hedron shook his head. “But that doesn’t make sense. If they continue straight south they will end up in Arlethia.”

“Brilliant,” Jayden mumbled as she looked over Reign, who lay still on the table. She lowered her ear close to Reign’s mouth for a moment and then raised back up again, unconcerned. “Now, again, you must leave. Find Therrium and warn him, though I am certain he already labors under difficult circumstances.”

“The Realm is set against the West at the same time a new enemy marches against them,” Hedron remarked to no one in particular.

“Aye,” Aiden said. “My thoughts are running along the same lines. It cannot be a coincidence.”

“Of course it’s not a coincidence! Can you not see?” Jayden exclaimed. “No, of course not. You were not here when Reign revealed all she knows, though she did not know the meaning of it. She witnessed what was no doubt the beginning of an alliance between the Borathein and Wellyn, an alliance meant to bring about the destruction of the Arlethian race.”

“But why?” Ehliss asked.

Jayden scowled. “I thought history was something you studied at your lofty academy.”

“Well pardon me for not knowing about a people that no one else knows about!”

“Obviously, they are not so unknown as you think, but more accurately, purposely ignored until now. The Hardacheons and Borathein are kin. And while the Senthary invaded and destroyed the Hardacheons, the Arlethians chose to enter the battle on the side of the Senthary even though they were contemporaries in the land with the Hardacheons. Not allies, but neighboring kingdoms for millennia. To the Borathein, the decision of the wood-dwellers to join a foreign invading force against their neighbors is no doubt seen as betrayal. Their carnal faith of conquest no doubt demands vengeance. They call it Griptha. Believe me, your Changrual know of the Borathein and their ways.”

“It is curious...” Aiden admitted, trailing off in thought. “Why did we side with the Senthary, a people we did not know prior to their invasion? Why take up arms against our neighbors?”

“Do you want me to hold a class for you or shall we come to the pressing subject of what needs to be done
right
now?”

“But how do
you
know of them?” Ehliss asked. “Do the Archivers?”

“The Shrule,” Jayden corrected. “Archiver is the common name for them but that is not their true name. Their ancient name is Shrule. And, they are not as all seeing as you might have been taught. An elder can only view what another Archiver witnesses. There are ancient Hardacheon records kept that mention the
Borathein, no doubt, but no mention has been made for at least four hundred years, I am sure.

“They were here when the Hardacheons ruled these lands, and prior when the Ancients were here, just as the Helsyans and Arlethians were,” Jayden said. “Våleira’s history is not as disparate as most believe.”

“Wait, where are the ancient records then?” Ehliss asked. “The Hardacheon and earlier ones?”

“The Hardacheon records were confiscated, but no one knows where they have been sequestered, if they still exist. The Shrule did not, at that time, keep records on ageless obsidian, but on papyrus and hide. The durability of such materials is obviously much less than stone.”

Ehliss continued to look skeptical, but Jayden did not seem to care. “We are wasting time upon things that currently do not matter,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Aiden, you must get Hedron to Therrium. Arlethia will need him, and you as well.”

“Why?” Ehliss asked. “What can they do? Or any of us?”

At that, Jayden laughed. “You have no idea who these three are, do you?”

Ehliss looked at all of them before facing Jayden. “I know they’re wood-dwellers, that’s obvious.”

“Not just wood-dwellers. These,” motioning to Hedron and Reign, “are Lord Thannuel Kerr’s children. You no doubt know the tales of Lord Kerr’s death, mythical in nature though they are. And he is Master Aiden, the most recognized swordsman in the Realm since Lord Kerr himself. His reputation reaches even this far north. In fact, the bone-headed man even wields Thannuel’s sword.”

“But, no, that’s impossible! She died. All the family did. It was published throughout the Realm. And her father betrayed the High Duke and was executed because—”

She was cut short by Aiden’s hand at her throat, slamming her against a wall. Crimson Snow barked and snarled at her, hackles raised. “One more word,” Aiden hissed as his breath bounced off
Ehliss’ contorted face, “and I’ll rip your throat free and feed it to the wolves.” As if hoping this would be the case, Crimson barked savagely twice.

“Aiden!” Hedron cried out. “Don’t! She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

Jayden’s soft hand rested upon Aiden’s outstretched arm. “Lad, the boy is right. She is only repeating what everyone was brainwashed to believe by the constant circulation of lies. Release her.” He looked at Jayden with disgust, though it was not directed at her.

“Can you channel that anger? That friction?” she asked. Those words were enough to shake Aiden loose. He released Ehliss’ throat and she immediately sucked in air, bringing her hands to her neck. A few coughs followed as she wiped away tears from her eyes.

“What did you say? How do you know of friction?” Aiden demanded.

“You truly are dense, aren’t you?” the old woman said. “Thannuel tried to prepare you to enter the Gyldenal Order, but those efforts were cut short when he fell. I would like to say, as I am accustomed, that you were too daft and thick-headed, but the truth is he simply did not have enough time.”

“I don’t understand,” Aiden said. “I don’t know what you are talking about. Have you noticed that’s a common theme of people around you lately?”

“It’s a myth,” Ehliss said hoarsely. “A secret group living somewhere deep in the Tavaniah Forest said to have superior knowledge or abilities. Bedtime stories for children. We learned about it at the academy. It’s in a textbook of folklore and fables. No evidence of their existence has ever been found despite the best efforts of the most brilliant men and scholars.”

“If you haven’t noticed, dear,” Jayden answered gently with a hint of condescension, “that academic education of yours isn’t fairing too well right now. The point of a clandestine order is to leave no evidence. That is, in fact, the best evidence that has been found.”

Ehliss held her peace and looked away, still rubbing her throat.

“Friction,” Jayden continued, looking back to Aiden, “is one of the first understandings taught by the Gyldenal. It is basic and fundamental to all higher understandings. You have a basic grasp of it, I know, but it is very embryonic still.”

Aiden eyed her skeptically. “And Thannuel was part of this…order?”

“Focus. Think of nothing but this moment,” Jayden said in response.

Aiden stepped back. “You know this saying?”

“It is one of the ancient axioms. And of course I know it.”

“Did…my father…I mean, if he was part of the Gyldenal, did he know you were?” Hedron asked.

Jayden was silent for a short time before nodding her head.

“Friction?” Aiden asked, testing her further.

“Feed on the friction,” Jayden replied. “Thannuel no doubt commanded you to keep these things secret at the cost of your life, though you did not know why.”

Aiden looked down, eyes wide. “Ancient Heavens, it’s true.”

Ehliss had recovered enough to stand upright again. “Are you actually suggesting that the order exists and that you are one of them?”

Aiden shot her a menacing glance that made her flinch slightly.

“Maybe you’re not as dense as you appear,” Jayden said.

“But why, if it’s so secret, would you tell us?”

“The Gyldenal will not be aloof much longer. We cannot be. We will be forced to enter the conflict. It has always been inevitable. Arlethia cannot survive against both the Senthary and the Borathein. It has been long anticipated that the Borathein would come, but the actions of Wellyn against Arlethia are most curious though not completely surprising.”

“Why would they care for our survival? These Gyldenal?” Hedron asked.

“Because the Gyldenal are all Arlethians,” Aiden said, pulling his hand away from his furrowed brow. “The Tavaniah Forest is part of Arlethia, the most north-western along the coast.”

Jayden nodded. “That is mostly correct. As I said, we are an order, not a race.”

“But Jayden, you’re not a wood-dweller,” Hedron stated.

“No, my boy, I am something else entirely.”

Later that morning, after taking enough provisions and deciding on their route, Aiden, Hedron and Ehliss departed, leaving Jayden and Elohk to tend to Reign and the surviving pack. They did gain three more members of their party before they left, however. Huksinai, Alabeth and Thurik playfully snapped at one another as the caravan made their way south to Arlethia with all haste. In order for Ehliss to not unduly hinder their progress, as she lacked wood-dweller speed, Aiden had grudgingly agreed to carry her upon his back. Aiden heard Hedron snickering to himself at the sight.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Aiden reassured him. “You’ll have your turn carrying the princess before long.”

THIRTY-SIX

Lord Calder Hoyt

Day 28 of 1
^st
Dimming 412 A.U.

“THE EASTERN FORCES HAVE ARRIVED,
Lord Hoyt,” Hambly reported. “Houses Chester, Orion and Sperry make up the majority.”

“How many in total?”

“Twenty thousand it seems. Lord Marshall Garreth of the East leads them and has written instructions from the High Duke to lead our combined forces. Lord Marshal Wenthil is not pleased but has certified the High Duke’s orders.”

Garreth
, Hoyt thought.
Known for his eagerness. That could be helpful
.

“This is less than has been sent to other fronts along the Arlethian borders, according to Garreth,” Hambly added. “The military assessment of this most southern front is that there will be less resistance present than the other fronts.”

“How many other battle focal points are there?” Lord Hoyt asked.

“Two others, according to Lord Marshal Wenthil,” Master Gernald replied. “Lord Marshal Brendar leads a battalion of sixty thousand Eastern soldiers about thirty leagues slightly northeast of here and High Lord Marshal Tulley leads eighty thousand
Northern and Eastern Province men fifteen to twenty leagues north of Brendar’s front. Tulley has supreme command of all three forces. Banner Therrium is thought to be at the most northern front where Tulley leads.”

“And ours? How many?” Hoyt asked, turning to Gernald.

“Thirty thousand, as my Lord had commanded.”

“Where is Wenthil now?”

“He is meeting with Garreth now in a strategy session,” Hambly replied. “The kitchens are busy preparing for the officers’ banquet tonight.”

“I see,” was all Lord Hoyt said.

Calder Hoyt considered his moves carefully, delving into the possible repercussions of his actions if they were unsuccessful. He did not have to think long on what would happen to him, his wife, his daughter, those of his court. There would be no mercy.

“Three hooded soldiers have come with them, as you suspected,” Hambly continued.

“I did not know how many would be sent,” Lord Hoyt said. “Just that they would be here.”

“My Lord, please, tell us what you know of them,” Gernald requested for the third time. “We can better help if we know more.”

“The less you know, the less danger you will be in if something goes awry. We cannot be too cautious. But we must be rid of them if we have any hope of succeeding.”

Hambly and Gernald looked at each other.

“Have you brought your uncle, the hydraf trapper?” Hoyt asked Gernald.

“He waits outside the chamber doors, my Lord.”

“Show him in.”

An average man of leathery skin holding a hat in his hands entered the great chambers where the three men met. He looked around the hall, taking in the grandeur of his surroundings as he approached Lord Hoyt. The man did not kneel but continued to look up as if he were alone.

“Forgive him, Lord Hoyt,” Gernald pleaded. “Uncle Kimsly has never been inside your hold.”

“Oh!” Kimsly said, suddenly realizing that he was being rude. “My apologies, my Lord!” The man took a knee and waited to be given permission to rise. He spoke with only the left half of his face.

“No, no, get up,” Hoyt told him, more annoyance in his voice than he wanted to reveal. “We haven’t time for these ridiculous formalities.”

Kimsly rose and fidgeted with the hat still in his hands. It had seen many years in the sun, Calder surmised, from its faded and worn appearance.

“You are a trapper?” Hoyt asked.

“Yes, since I was a boy. Like my father and he like his. Kimslys have been trappers for generations, we have.”

“He is the best in the Southern Province,” Gernald said.

“Now, nephew, I don’t know—”

“It’s true, old man. This isn’t a time for modesty. Quit your quibbling!” Gernald demanded.

“Have you ever been bitten?” Hoyt asked.

Kimsly rolled up his shirtsleeves and revealed three bite marks on his left forearm and two on the upper right arm near his shoulder.

“This one here,” Kimsly said as he pointed to one on his right arm, “nearly ended me. I never spoke right after and my eye doesn’t blink. Truth be told, I have to glue it shut at night with a little drop of amber wax to keep it from drying out. Healers told me it has something to do with a nerve but I didn’t pay that much attention when they spoke about it.”

Lord Hoyt looked concerned. He turned to Gernald and asked, “This man is the best we have? Ancients come, he’s allowed himself to be bitten five times.”

“My Lord, if I may,” Kimsly said, “the reason I’m the best is because I’ve been bitten five times and I’m still here. A man can survive a bite if he acts quickly to chew the Triarch roots, but surviving five times is extremely rare, Triarch roots or not. I’ve also
always got a bit inside me, if you know what I mean.” Kimsly pulled down his bottom lip and revealed a bolus of chew lining his bottom gums.

“Make it myself, I do,” he continued. “Dry out the Triarch leaves and mix it with a poultice of smashed root and—”