Darkstone - An Evil Reborn (Book 4) (11 page)

“School’s out, soldiers. Come with me and we’ll fit you out. Attention!” Vaka said.

Vishan observed that at least all of the brothers had learned how to stand erect.

“You will file out in order and march double time to the quartermaster’s building.”

The brothers hustled out of the training room with Vish bringing up the rear. He nodded to Noryton just before he left.

“I hope to see you again,” the scholar said somberly.

Vish took it as a word of warning. He didn’t need to be told, but the scholar confirmed his suspicion the expedition could turn into a culling exercise.

The brothers who hadn’t served at Peshakan joked as they got their gear. The ones who had received their packs, weapons and armor did so with somber faces. The patrols that Vishan had ridden weren’t pleasure jaunts. They slept on the road, even if they were close to a village.

The Cuminee occasionally attacked small outposts and villages. Vishan expected burned out buildings and bloated bodies. Dakkoran soldiers would follow the raiders’ tracks and do much the same thing to the barbarians on the other side of the border. Vish had always thought that the incursions were to eventually draw soldiers into ambushes and traps. Luckily, he hadn’t been on any ill-fated patrols.

Sergeant Vaka ordered them into a line. “This is no drill, men. Make sure you are vigilant at all times. The Cuminee, if that’s who the raiders are, do not like us. We do not like them. They burn a farm, we burn a Cuminee village. That’s the way it is. Daryan, you will oversee your brothers. We’ll have a corporal work with the squad of troopers that we will accompany. The patrol leaves at dawn. Mess will be open early enough for you to eat. Dismissed.”

Vishan took his equipment to the barracks and began to go over it. The sword was old and pitted, but serviceable. He’d put a better edge on it. None of them were issued bows and arrows. He wondered if that was on purpose. He checked all of the straps to make sure none were weak.

He pulled out his sling and noticed that one of the thongs had become worn. That wouldn’t do out on the plains. He went to the stable but couldn’t find enough scraps to make a new one. He put everything in his bag and plopped it into the chest at the foot of his bed. He spelled it closed as he bent down to use the lock and key. His attitude had to be that he had enemies on the plains and in the barracks. He didn’t feel comfortable with just the weapons that he carried and would feel naked without more.

“I don’t have any orders to issue any bow and arrows,” the quartermaster said when Vishan walked over to the armory. “What will you give me if I do?”

“Will my praises be enough?”

The quartermaster shook his head.

“I’ll promote you out of Peshakan when I take the Emperor Shalil’s throne?”

“The others have told me much the same.”

Vishan laughed. “What did they ask for?” Vishan said as he pulled out his money purse. The man obviously wouldn’t respond to promises.

“Better swords, mostly. Newer bedrolls. You can imagine, Lieutenant.”

“I’ve got twenty dreks for you, for a bow and a quiver full of arrows.”

“Don’t want much.”

“I want to survive.”

“Can’t blame you, sir. Twenty-five and I’ll throw in a few extra bow strings.”

“Twenty-one and it’s a deal.” Vishan said. He counted out most of his money and slid it across the counter. The bow was serviceable. Both tips were in good shape. The arrows were straight—standard issue for the outpost. “Thank you. Have you got a six-foot leather thong? I want to tie the bow up.”

“You’ve got it, Lieutenant. No charge.” The quartermaster tossed a couple of thongs on the counter. “I wish you well. Your brothers are a bunch of cutthroats.”

Vishan’s eyebrows rose. “And I’m not?”

“You’re a smarter cutthroat, I guess. The men are taking bets.”

“That bad, eh? Where do I stand?”

The quartermaster looked at his hands, always a bad sign. “You’re the youngest. I’d say you’re about in the middle. Your brother Daryan is given the edge. But I’ll promise you the twenty-one dreks will go on the tally for your return.” The guildmaster winked at him. “You’re not arrogant like the rest and that means you’ll pay more attention. Good luck to you.”

“Thank you. I’ll do all I can to give you a return on your bet.”

Vishan left the quartermaster building with his weapons. He had only hoped for thongs for the sling. Would Vaka let him take the bow and arrows? That would be another layer of advantage. He remembered the encounter with Scholar Lystan and never brought up the defensive aspects of assassination. Vishan thought that he needed layers of defense. The mail shirt and his ability to guide the horse without a bridle were his two layers of defense on the hunting trip with his father. In the guildhall, Vishan had his mail shirt and Peleor as back up.

Back-up? Would any of the others have protectors laying in wait for the expedition? He’d have to assume that men could be lying in wait along the way. Suddenly, Vishan felt even more exposed and his normally even temperament gave way to the cold fear. Paranoid? He accepted the label. He’d have to think like his brothers, especially Astyran.

The barracks were empty. All to the good, thought Vishan. He put his weapons into his trunk and pulled out his boiled leather armor and rechecked the straps. He took the old thong from one side of his sling and poked a few holes in the armor with his dagger. Then he tied his breast-piece and back plate together in addition to the strapping. No one would notice the extra thongs being used to tie his armor together.

Vishan checked out his sling again and examined the smooth rocks that filled up a bag. Any rock would do and there were plenty out on the plains, but in an emergency he didn’t want to be searching. If he ran out of arrows, Vishan still felt confident he could strike from a distance. He’d never had the occasion to practice archery or use his sling in sight of his brothers. Every hidden element added to any advantage Vishan might have. He had no ability to prepare, other than these last minute measures. Had any of his brothers?

~~~

Chapter Nine

~

S
ergeant Vaka threw saddlebags into the barracks
before dawn. “Get your gear stuffed in these. The horses are waiting. We leave immediately after breakfast.”

A few of the brothers grumbled, but Vishan quickly dressed and ran to the mess. He wouldn’t trust his equipment out of his sight and would fill up his saddlebags after breakfast. He ate as quickly as he could and stuffed as much food into his shirt as he could.

His brothers were still working with their horses. Vishan walked to the stables and rejected the horse that waited for him.

“I’d like the sturdiest horse, not the fastest,” Vishan said.

The groom nodded and returned with a shorter, longer haired horse. “This is the best horse I’ve got for heading out on the plains,” he said.

Vishan rewarded him with a smile and helped him saddle up the horse. Vishan slipped an extra blanket underneath the saddle. He checked all of the tack and asked for a second bridle. He rode the horse out of the stable and tied it up close to the barracks. His brothers had led their horses to the mess.

He quickly grabbed his gear and tied everything up, as securely as he could to the horse and watered it. He stood checking and rechecking everything, waiting for the sun to peek over the fence of the outpost.

Vishan couldn’t resist smiling as he noticed two other bows strapped to saddles. He’d been the first. His smile faded as he realized he didn’t know how proficient those two other brothers were. His swordsmanship wasn’t any worse than what he saw mornings at practice, but then he’d been careful not to show too much talent, so he’d have to assume they didn’t either. His brothers might underestimate his youth, but Vish wouldn’t permit a lack of preparation.

The troopers began to assemble and soon Vaka stuck his head in the mess and called everyone to the parade ground.

“Mount up!” Vaka said as he led the column out of the outpost. Vishan took his normal place at the back of the brothers, but ahead of the troopers followed by a string of pack horses. Vishan carried everything he needed on his sturdy horse.

He observed the tension in the backs of his brothers up ahead. The joking had stopped when they mounted and hadn’t returned. Everyone knew the purpose of the patrol. He decided that his rear position gave him an advantage. He could see that regular army troopers protected his brothers and his back.

Morning produced no surprises. They stopped for a midday meal at a farmer’s house. Vishan watered his own horse in the pond. Most of the other brothers let troopers handle their mounts. He kept an eye on his own horse, but noticed Astyran sauntering around his brother’s horses. He leaned down, out of Vishan’s sight and then walked away. Vish didn’t know which horse he’d done something to.

He imagined a broken saddle or a cut-through cinch. Perhaps Astyran didn’t know the pack horses would include saddle and bridle repair materials. The column only moved slightly faster than a walking man, so a fall might produce bruises but nothing else.

Before they mounted up, Sergeant Vaka reminded his brothers that they were all currently in the Red Army and subject to disciplinary actions for killing and maiming fellow officers. Open warfare didn’t seem to be a possibility, but then assassins didn’t do their work in plain sight. Vish’s father would expect them to use those rules against each other, but more likely, death would come during a crisis where there would be less of a chance for incriminating evidence and a greater chance of distraction.

Havyr and Leshyam both fell off of their horses not long after they left the farm and got on the road leading west. Vish didn’t say anything, but Vaka colored the air with his cursing. The column stopped for an hour while saddles were repaired. 

“One of your brothers,” Vaka said through his teeth.  He showed the strapping to Vish.  They were cut most of the way. “I know it’s not you because you wouldn’t be stupid enough leave such a small amount left to breakaway.  So probably not one of the former soldiers, either.”  He left Vishan somewhat in shock.  The man had never confided in him before or shown him any favoritism, but Vaka had only expressed his disgust to him.  Perhaps the sergeant was an ally on this expedition.

He thought the real opportunities would come when they went on the offensive against the Cuminee raiders or if mercenaries attacked them, hired by one or more of the brothers.

Vishan took off his saddlebags and stripped his horse in the evening. He dragged his gear next to the troopers. His brothers slept clumped together. It didn’t make any sense to Vish. If the brother next to you might kill you in the night, why would you sleep together?

He then recognized that keeping his enemies in plain sight might be a good strategy, but proximity didn’t seem to be an advantage while sleeping.

Vishan woke to Sergeant Vaka shouting for the men to rise. Vishan grabbed his leather armor and put it on as soon as he sat up. Torches began to light the camp. The sergeant stood among his brothers.

They stood over Havyr, the eighth son. His face was distorted; eyes bulged with his hands up towards his neck. Vishan knelt down and looked at the ruined skin.

“Garrote,” he said, “an assassin’s weapon.” His hand went to his throat. He’d never thought of a defense for that. Vishan looked at his brothers. Astyran’s face sported a bland look. The other faces showed more concern.

Sergeant Vaka was furious. “Whoever did this brought their weapon into the outpost. We don’t have garrotes like this at Peshakan. Sit down on the ground, all of you. Let me see your hands.” Vaka noticed Vishan standing behind. “You too, Vishan.”

The sergeant called him by his first name. Vish raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Vaka growled.  “You are all Daryaku.  I’ve got to call you something so you know I’m talking to you. Sit down,” he said quietly.

Vish shrugged and sat down next to Daryan. He put his out his hands, like the others.

“Palms out, men,” Vaka ordered.

Vish looked down the line. He couldn’t see enough in the torchlight. If he wanted to shake his brothers up he could spell a light globe, but he’d do no such a thing unless he absolutely had to.

Vaka paused as he looked down at Astyran’s hands, and then continued on down the line.

“Corporal, put Lieutenant Astyran in irons. Search his person and his gear for the garrote. It should still be soaked in his victim’s blood.” He stood up and put his hands on his hips. “Lieutenants, even if you use gloves, a wire garrote will bruise the sides of your hands. I will show you Astyran’s hands so you may witness his condition.”

Astyran stood, flailing his arms. “No! I didn’t do anything. You can’t prove I did that.” He pointed to his brother’s body. “What do you take me for, someone who would kill my own brother?”

Parvenu, one of the other ex-soldiers, said, “Scholar Lystan already told us that you are.”

Astyran shot him an angry glare. “I am a son of the Emperor!  Anyone with gloves would have those marks!”

“Thank you, Astyran. Corporal, make sure you find the Lieutenant’s gloves. They should have marks on them as well. Let’s have a quick meal and then move on.”

“We aren’t proceeding, are we?” Daryan said.

“I have my orders, Daryan. Your brother’s just lucky we’re close enough to the outpost for Captain Bishyar to judge his fate. Murder of a fellow officer is a capital offense and I could hang him right here, if I wanted.” Sergeant Vaka said. He ordered the Corporal to take the body, Astyran and two guardsmen back to the outpost.

Vishan couldn’t go back to sleep. Vaka had the troopers search through the brush and found the garrote covered with dirt ten paces from the camp. Astyran’s gloves had marks matching the garrote among with a few flecks of blood on them. It seemed that Vishan wouldn’t have to seek vengeance. The man had sentenced himself to death and the enmity between the two had been settled without any effort on Vish’s part.

Two brothers were, essentially, dead. Fourteen of his brothers remained alive, but for how long? Vishan paid a soldier one drek to examine his horse and saddle. The animal looked fine, but Vish would like another’s eyes on his gear. He saddled up again and couldn’t help but gaze at the horses heading back to the outpost. Havyr’s body was slung over the saddle. A bow peeked out. There were now only two who carried a bow.

Vishan would have liked to grieve for Havyr, but he never knew him and, other than Daryan and Astyran, had never really talked to any of the seven in his entire life. He pursed his lips and felt wrung out with all of the tension. Only a day and a night and look at what happened.

They headed west not long after. Vishan, again, rode at the end of the column of brothers, now two shorter. None of them spoke, except to answer questions the Sergeant Vaka asked them about the previous night. Vish could tell that Vaka didn’t believe that no one noticed Havyr’s murder. Vishan escaped the interrogation since he had slept with the troopers.

Nothing happened the next day. They rode through a couple of villages. Both of them seemed to erupt from the plains like blemishes on a teenage boy. The dust and dirt of the streets had coated the buildings, giving everything the same dreary dun color as the fort. The stunted trees of the plains stood in clumps, sentinels of grayish green with black trunks seeming to flow down to the ground like tentacles.

Vishan began to see if his horse would react to knee commands. His mount responded well and would veer in the direction opposite the pressure. That was different from the warhorse, but he hadn’t expected any success. Vishan gave an apple to the horse, as they dismounted at midday beside a stream before troopers hobbled the horses so they could meander and find enough grass to forage.

Vish kept an eye out on his horse as he leaned back on his saddlebags and ate trail rations. His brothers continued to shut him out and that was fine. Sergeant Vaka sat beside him.

“You’ve got a cool head for one so young. Your other brothers are staring at each other like animals in a cage. I don’t see the same look in your eyes. Why not?”

“I’m not a threat to them. I was the 22nd son at one point. Now I’m soon to be less than half of that when this is over. My life has a long way to go and I don’t have any ambitions to be Emperor.” Vish nodded in the direction of his brothers. “They do. I think Daryan would be the most worried. He’s senior here. Everybody moves up if he’s killed.”

“But you are prepared. I’ve watched. Havyr’s bow didn’t escape your notice. I had my eye on you.”

Vishan looked out over the prairie. “My neck is as soft as Havyr’s. I had no defense against a garrote attack. To survive, one has to be both prepared for anything and be lucky.”

“Stay vigilant, lad. This isn’t over.” Vaka stood and brushed off his pants. He gazed at the clump of brothers and walked off to check on the troopers. Vishan followed him with his eyes. Another set of civil words from Vaka. Amazing.

Vaka paid a farmer to let them sleep in his barn the next night. He had slept in this same barn a few months before his brothers arrived, on one of the routine patrols he’d been on. The straw bed would be better than sleeping on bare ground and the farmer could just rake it up and still use it to feed his livestock.

The horses were picketed on lines between a few trees. Vishan made sure that he found a sleeping spot next to a wall. That made one less direction for trouble to come from.

He awoke at the smell of smoke. A brand of some kind had been thrown onto the top of the two blankets he used. He cast the top one off and automatically put on his leather armor.

“Fire!” He began beating the flames off of those around him with the flaming blanket. Vishan coughed as he breathed in smoke and tiny bits of burning straw. He barely dodged the thrust of a sword that slid along his armor in the smoke. Leshyam, the seventh son, took another swing until Vaka had thrown open the doors to the barn and ordered everyone out. His brother sheathed his sword as the firelight grew and he rushed outside with the rest.

Vishan used his magic to weaken the boards of wall and kicked them out, dragging all of his possessions out into the barnyard. He ran back in and used small amounts of spelled ice to combat the fire where others couldn’t see him until a bucket brigade began to throw water on the blaze. He saw a body lying face down, half covered by the wet straw, but continued to fight the flames until they were gone.

Sergeant Vaka ordered them out. “The barn is mostly intact. Daryan, however, is dead. I don’t know who did it, but princes, a few flames do not hide the slash of a sword thrust. Can any of you tell me what might have happened?”