Origin (27 page)

The sun was shining brightly and the breezes were gently swaying the tall grass beside the small stream. Elwyn felt herself starting to drift off until she felt a sharp tug on her line. She quickly pulled in a plump fish that would be more than enough to make a good meal. Within minutes, she’d caught two more. She then searched the sides of the stream for some edible roots and the small trees nearby for wild mushrooms. Elwyn hurried back to the hut to drop off her fish, the other items she’d found by the stream, and her pack containing the items she’d collected while searching the other huts. She checked on Keroc who was breathing but still unresponsive. She gave him some water from her waterskin and checked his wrappings to make sure that they were tight. She then went back out to talk to the morden and to collect some more wood for the fire.

Elwyn stopped feeling strange about conversing with the morden at some point during her journey. They seemed to understand what she said to them, and that was all that mattered for right now. She explained her brief exchange with Kierra to them, as well as her plan to only wait until the next day for Ayron. At this point both Gemma and Raffe snorted and pawed the ground. Elwyn knew that the morden thought that she should wait for Ayron to arrive; even if it was several days. She said that she would think about it, but was worried that it seemed to be taking him so long to arrive. In truth, being in a deserted village in the middle of nowhere was a bit eerie. There was just something about this place that felt very dangerous and unsafe to her and that feeling had not diminished as time passed. Elwyn knew she would feel much better if she were making more progress moving toward Findara. She told the morden that if she decided to continue her travels to the north, she would be sure to leave a note for Ayron describing the path she was taking so that he could easily follow and find her. They both still seemed displeased.

Elwyn left them to get back to their grazing and went off to gather some firewood. She was actually looking forward to spending the evening reading her mother’s diary and curious about what it would reveal of her parents. She was really hoping it would explain why her mother left her father. As Elwyn, arms full of firewood, walked back to the hut where she was staying, her thoughts drifted to both her uncles and to Clayre. She hoped they’d arrived in Amarni, that her uncle was recovering, and that Ayron would be arriving any moment. Elwyn made sure she prepared enough food so if Ayron did arrive, there would be enough for him to eat. She kneaded some dough for bread and let it rise on the large flat stones that surrounded the fire pit. She then took a pot she found and made a soup from the roots she dug up along the side of the stream and some of the vegetables she’d found in the huts she explored. She sprinkled in some herbs and set it on the fire to cook. She built a simple spit and set it up over a corner of her fire and put the fish she caught and cleaned on to roast. While she waited for her meal to finish, she curled up on her bed pad and opened her mother’s diary.

E
ven with his sharp eyesight, Ayron could barely make out the four figures running toward them at inhuman speed; approaching them from behind. Gerrack’s snorting and prancing confirmed to him that it was, indeed, a shadow squad. He called to Stuart, told him to grab Galdor along with Essenil, Mintas, Tilar, Briten, and Elan and to race ahead with the wagon, while he and the rest of the soldiers dealt with the assassins. Alea had already taken a position high up in a nearby tree that overlooked the trail. She was firing arrow after arrow in the assassins’ direction. It seemed as if she had taken out their archer very early as they neither heard nor saw any arrows coming toward them. Ayron and his three soldiers charged to meet the three assassins running toward them. The fighting was fierce. The sounds of swords clashing, horses snorting and squealing, and his soldiers shouting at the enemy filled the air.

The assassins were well trained and easily countered every move that his soldiers made, causing the fight to go on for a long time. In the end, it was endurance that made the difference. Ayron cursed the fact that he’d pushed his men as hard as he had over the past few days as he saw Therlon fall to the ground early, felled by an assassin’s dagger. Alea felled the assassin with a kill shot as he leaned over Thelon’s body trying to retrieve his dagger. Ayron had his hands full with the leader of the shadow squad who fought him with dual short swords, ferociously attacking him at every turn. At one point, the assassin had Ayron backed up against a tree and would have wounded him in the arm if Gerrack hadn’t intervened and struck the killer in the shoulder, giving Ayron an opportunity to dispatch the assassin with his sword.

Ayron turned to see how Hayvar was faring just in time to see the young soldier lose his balance for just an instant, providing the assassin fighting him with an opportunity to stab him in the chest. Rage rose in Ayron who ran toward the last shadow squad member. Just before he reached his goal, an arrow whizzed by him and struck the assassin in the chest. Not willing to take any chances, Ayron reached down and cut the assassin’s throat. As he watched his enemy bleed out, he was filled with both anger and despair. He wondered why Stefan was so adamant about eliminating both Rhys and Elwyn. Neither had ever posed any threat to his rule or had been near his lands. The desperation behind these fevered attacks made no sense to him.

Seeing all four of the assassins laying on the ground, Alea jumped down from the tree and mounted Katesh her stallion. As she got ready to join Ayron, an arrow whizzed by her and she heard a soft grunt as it hit Donil, the other soldier that had been fighting with them. She gasped and stared in shock as a red stain began to spread across his forest green tunic and he slowly slipped from his horse to the ground. Recovering from her shock, she signaled Katesh who pivoted as she nocked an arrow and fired quickly at the assassin who was by now standing on the side of the road getting ready to disappear into the shadows. As he crumpled and hit the ground, she fired again. Ayron ran over and stabbed him in the heart with his short sword to make sure he would never rise up to kill again. As he ran, he remembered Kierra’s story of Elwyn’s encounters and realized that they had fallen for the same trick. The archer in the group pretends to be dead so that if all the others are killed, they still have one last assassination attempt or one person to report their failure.

Ayron went from body to body checking to make sure that all the assassins were dead. He left the bodies lay where they fell for the predators to feed upon, not willing to show them any honor as combatants. He and Alea then hoisted the bodies of their three dead comrades and laid them over the saddles of their horses. The smell of blood mingling with the scent of flowers in the air caused a thick, sickly, sweet odor to float on the early evening breezes. It made the animals nervous and Ayron nauseous. He wanted nothing more than to get away from the sickening smell of death and rejoin the rest of his soldiers. He signaled to Alea and they quickly left behind the battle scene and the strange smell that lingered there.

Ayron and Alea, leading the horses carrying the three dead soldiers, rode to meet up with the rest of the soldiers and the wagon carrying Rhys and Clayre. Now that the adrenaline of the fight began to recede, Ayron began to worry that the increased speed necessary for the wagon to escape the assassins might have adversely affected Rhys health. As they were riding toward the other group, Ayron sensed Krill, Kormir’s drakenhawk, enter his mind. Kormir left Krill with Ayron to continue flying scout while he rode to Amarni. Krill was very agitated and kept sending him images of not one, but two shadow squads attacking the rest of his soldiers up ahead. Ayron immediately projected an image of Alea positioned high up in a tree shooting arrows at the archers and hoped that Galdor would understand what he meant. He then quickly explained what was happening to Alea and, leaving their three deceased companions behind, they raced ahead to help the other soldiers fight off the eight assassins.

The wagon and the soldiers guarding it must have taken his orders to move quickly very seriously because it took Ayron and Alea almost ten minutes to catch up with them. He knew that his soldiers were fighting for their lives. They were outnumbered and out skilled by trained assassins that were trying to murder them all. His soldiers were used to fighting what they could see, not shadows that threw daggers drenched in poison. They had already lost three men to assassin’s poison this night, and Ayron feared that they might lose more before the fighting was over.

As they drew close, Ayron could see Galdor standing high on the driver’s seat of the wagon firing arrow after arrow. It looked as if he’d already taken down the archers from both squads. As soon as they reached the wagon, Ayron ordered Alea to find some high ground and help Galdor by dispatching as many of the assassins as she could get a bead on. He then ordered Stuart, who was near the wagon unhitching Tomac, to check the two archers to make sure that they were dead and, if not, to kill them as quickly as possible. He didn’t want them feigning death and then rising to send more poisoned arrows flying toward his soldiers. He warned Stuart to be cautious and told him that they might only be pretending to be injured. He knew Stuart was a master swordsman, but from what he’d seen, the archers of the shadow squads seemed to possess nine lives and he didn’t want to lose any other soldiers because of his own carelessness.

Ayron waited by the wagon guarding Rhys, Clayre, and Galdor until Stuart’s return. While he waited, he quickly assessed what was occurring all around him. Stuart was off checking on the enemy archers and would then return to guard the wagon. Galdor was in position standing on the seat of the wagon with his bow, taking shots at the assassins when he got an open target. Alea had positioned herself high in a large tree and was firing arrow after arrow at the assassins still standing. Essenil, Mintas, Tilar, and Briten were still alive, but they were badly outmatched by the six shadow assassins still on their feet. Unfortunately Elan had already fallen. As much as he hated to admit it, the assassins were extraordinarily good fighters. His men had to not only counter some very intricate sword attacks, they also had to watch and dodge daggers that were periodically thrown in their direction. Additionally, his soldier’s weapons were not tipped in poison, so the assassins could often continue fighting, even after they were wounded. It occurred to him that the assassin’s tolerance for pain must be incredibly high. They seemed to be able to stay on their feet and fight with wounds that would fell most men. As soon as Stuart made his way back to the wagon, Ayron left to go and help his men fight the six assassins still on their feet. The fight had drawn nearer to the wagon and was, in fact, now taking place only yards away.

The fighting continued with neither side gaining ground. All that could be heard were the sounds of swords clashing occasionally punctuated by the whizzing of arrows and the screaming of angry stallions. Even with Ayron’s help, the fight on the ground was less than fair. There were six assassins still standing with only Ayron, Essenil, Mintas, Briten, Tilar, and Kormir’s drakenhawk Krill to fight them. Galdor and Alea were attempting to pick off the assassins that were still fighting, but were having difficulty finding open targets. It was obvious to him that these killers were well trained in avoiding attacks by archers. These assassins were extraordinarily skilled and tough, while his soldiers had very little to no combat experience. After a long and grueling battle, Ayron succeeded in stabbing his opponent in the chest. He stood there for a moment watching as bubbles of blood rose up from the killer’s mouth and nose as he tried to speak. But then he died and Ayron never heard what the assassin was trying to say.

As Ayron looked to his left, he saw one of his soldiers fall. Essenil lay still with a dagger sticking from his neck. He ran over to engage the assassin, fueled by his anger at the senseless death of such a young soldier. The assassin fought hard and smart, even with two arrows sticking out of his jerkin. After what seemed like an eternity, Ayron, aided by Gerrack, was able to stab his enemy in the heart. As he watched the assassin fall, he noticed that the killer’s skin was a mottled moss green and brown in color. The Salissians representatives in Azavon’s court had normal flesh colored skin. He tucked that bit of knowledge into his memory so they might investigate the phenomena at a later time. He knew that he was beginning to tire because his mind kept wandering, and he was having trouble focusing even though there were still four dangerous assassins alive and trying to kill them all.

Ayron heard a high pitched squeal coming from his left flank. He turned around just in time to see Krelan, Tilar’s morden, fall to the ground with an assassin’s sword sticking out from his chest. Tilar shouted and tackled the assassin to the ground. Before Ayron could reach them, Tilar assisted by Gerrack had battered the assassins head to a pulp. Ayron reached them sword swinging as Tilar slid from the assassin’s body. He quickly slit the assassin’s throat, and then bent over to check on Tilar. The poor young man had obviously been wounded and would soon be dead. Being wounded by one of the assassins was a death sentence, and there was nothing that a healer, not even one of Galdor’s skills, could do to help. Ayron felt gut wrenching grief that he couldn’t stay and comfort the young soldier in his last moments, but one of the assassins was getting dangerously close to the wagon that held Rhys and Clayre. He knew he had to protect them at all costs. He also knew his soldiers well enough to know that each one of them would keep on fighting until they fell dead at the enemy’s feet.

Ayron ran over, followed by Gerrack, and attacked the assassin who was getting so close to the wagon. He soon realized that this assassin was the leader of one of the squads. He knew enough about the shadow squad organization to know that each squad had a leader that was the strongest, deadliest, and most fearsome fighter of the group. As he fought, Ayron felt as if the assassin was predicting his every move and, at the same time, easily avoiding Gerrack’s attempts to strike him with his hooves. Suddenly help came from an unexpected source when one of Galdor’s arrows stuck the assassin in the shoulder distracting him long enough for Ayron to stab him in the stomach with his sword. Before the assassin succumbed to his wounds however, he managed to throw a small dagger at Ayron, which would have struck him except for Gerrack who blocked the small blade with his hoof. Gerrack then reared up and finished the assassin leader off while Ayron ran over to help Briten who was trying to fight off two of the killers at once. As he ran, he realized just how tired he was to have lowered his guard like that. If not for Gerrack, he would be dead right now, twice over.