Shadows of Men (The Watchers Book 1) (9 page)

              King Firion nodded his head.  “As I said, she has the authority to take whomever she wishes.”

              Myranda could not help the tears that flowed down her cheeks now.  She stayed bent on one knee and turned her gaze towards the Queen, the only person she thought would show her any compassion.

              “But Mayvard and I are to be wed in three days’ time!”  The Queen knew Myranda was pleading with her now but she turned her gaze to the King.  It was his word that would settle all debate.

              “Your wedding will have to wait.”  He replied. 

              Myranda gazed up at her new-found enemy and tried to return the hateful glare that Rhada had shown her earlier.

              Rhada never looked back at Myranda.  She merely bowed her head to the King and Queen, turned on her heel and stormed out of the great hall, her black cloak flailing in the air behind her like dark wisps of shadow.

***

“You did that just to spite me!”  She shouted after Rhada as they trudged down the hallway.

              Rhada had been walking at a hastened pace and stopped abruptly to turn towards Myranda, who had left the great hall and chased after her.  She let her anger take control of her and it carried her feet through the doors and out into the corridor where she could see the High Protector moving through the shadows like a ghost.

              “You know Mayvard and I are to be wed!  You are doing this because you are angry with me!”  Myranda could feel her hands shaking but she kept her voice strong.  Rhada’s eyes pierced right through her and she felt for a moment that she might lose her courage. 
Do not be afraid of her! 
She scolded herself.

              “You say that you care for Mayvard; that he is your only friend.  He has told me as much.  Why then, do you do this to him?  It is not just me you are punishing!” 

              For a brief moment, Myranda thought she saw a hint of remorse flash before Rhada’s eyes.  She told herself that she had imagined it, for Rhada was incapable of feeling remorse, but she found her mind drifting away from her, down the corridor to where Rhada stood.  All the muscles in her body relaxed as she felt the connection between the High Protector’s and her own mind strengthen. 
If there is even the slightest amount of remorse, I may be able to forgive her. 

              Quickly, as though awakened from a dream, Myranda shook herself back to reality.  The realization of what she was about to do struck her and she felt a pang of guilt fill her heart. 
Why has it been so difficult for me not to mind-meld lately? 
She found herself drifting into that realm of magic that was so forbidden by the law; the form of magic she vowed she would never take part of again.

              She opened her eyes and found Rhada standing before her.  Her eyes were aglow with the dim light of the sconces and her mouth was stuck somewhere between a vengeful smile and a frown of sadness. 

              “I see what you are doing, Sorceress.”  She said in a hushed tone as she stepped closer.  “I see when your eyes glaze over and your mind trickles forth through the space between us.”

              “I…”  Myranda began, wanting to deny it but she knew that she could not.

              “Best be careful,
witch
.”  She whispered the last word but said it with such malice it made Myranda shudder.  “For I see more than you suspect I do.”

              Rhada stepped back a few paces but kept her hard gaze fixed upon Myranda.  “Nothing I do is to spite you, Myranda.  Everything I do, I do for the good of the realm.”

              Myranda could not help but scoff at these words.  She knew they were not true. 

              Rhada, seeing Myranda’s expression, turned once more, not wishing to look into her accusing eyes any longer.

              “But I will give you the honor of telling him yourself!”  She called back as she made her way down the corridor, quickly disappearing from sight.

Chapter 7

M
yranda sat on the edge of Mayvard’s bed, silently crying into her open palms.  Her eyes averted to the ground each time he walked close by.  She found when she looked directly at him her tears would flow even harder. 

              Mayvard was shoving fresh linens into his traveling sack, folding them into small squares so all of his clothes would fit.  He looked down at the small bag perplexed.  Never before had he been asked to pack for a month-long journey and he was uncertain exactly what he should be taking.  He already had his most important possessions packed and ready to go; his bow, his two daggers and his sword which he named Bel’dak after his grandfather.  The blade was long and sparkled brilliantly as though it had been forged yesterday.  He smiled down at the weapons that lay before him on the soft bed. 

              Next to them sat Myranda, who held her face in her hands now and sobbed loudly into her palms.  Mayvard bent on one knee before her and took her hands in his.  She looked at him through red and swollen eyes, sniffled and tried to stop the tears forcing their way to the surface.  Mayvard smiled weakly at her and squeezed her hands gently. 

              “I will return.”  He said in a reassuring voice.  “And as soon as I do, you and I will have the most glorious wedding Axendra has ever seen!”  Myranda smiled back feebly, leaned forward and allowed Mayvard to give her a gentle and loving kiss.  When she pulled away, her eyes fell to the ground and her tears rolled down her cheeks, falling onto the tops of his hands. 

              Mayvard reached up and placed his fingers underneath her chin, pulling her face upward and forcing her to look in his eyes.  “Tis my duty.”  He said, though he knew this would bring little comfort to her.

              She nodded her head in understanding then looked to his now full traveling sack.  “You must pack your furs.  It will be cold in Tyos this time of year.”

              Mayvard nodded in agreement, stood and continued to pack for his long journey.

***

              Rhada stood at the edge of her room, a smoking pipe in one hand and her sword in the other, staring out the window at the grey morning that surrounded the castle.  Slowly, she inhaled a breath of relaxing tobacco flavored smoke and released it in a plume around her. 

              She had packed everything that was necessary for her journey and grabbed her sword very last.  She held it up to the light that bled through the window and examined its sharpness.  Of course she knew there was no reason to ever check the blade; it was always sharp.  She read the inscription that had been etched into the steel for the hundredth time-
Lim Canarte Bae Elei-
In blood We Rise
.  Though the ancient language had been lost to the new age, the meaning had survived.  The dark red streak that ran through the center of the steel resembled the blood of a man even more when it was bathed in the light from the window.

              Having magical powers was not something anyone could learn; it was something they had to be born with.  Very few people in the world were born with these abilities and Rhada had not been one of them.  The sword, however, had been forged with magical properties from the most powerful Sorcerers that had ever existed.  The sword bound its wielder to it and guided them in all things.  The sword had been named by those who forged it; ‘Bloodbinder’.  The Sorcerers who made it named it such for the blood sacrifice they suffered to forge it. It was through their blood the sword obtained its magical powers. 

              Rhada knew very little about magic but the sword told her things through an unspoken language only she could understand.  At that moment, as she stood idly staring out the window and smoking her pipe, the sword began to buzz in her hand with a slight vibration.  She pulled the pipe away from her lips and looked down towards the blade.  She could feel its energies pulsing through her fingertips and up the length of her arm.  The feeling that filled her heart was dark and heavy with dread. 

              Rhada dumped the remaining tobacco onto the windowsill and shoved the still hot pipe into her pocket then hastily made her way towards her traveling sack which held her clothing that had been carelessly shoved inside. She sheathed Bloodbinder and with one hand holding her bag and the other holding fast to her sword, she made her way to her chamber door.

             
The Sorceress must have been right.  Whatever is lurking in Tyos is evil. 
The sword in her hand continued to buzz as she dashed from her room and down the dimly lit corridor.  She raced outside to the stables where she knew Mayvard would be waiting for her.  He wasn’t alone.  Myranda stood in his arms with tears rolling down her cheeks.  Mayvard was whispering something in her ear but when he saw the High Protector approach, he stood up tall and bowed his head towards her.

              Rhada took notice that he had prepared both of their horses and she smiled at the sight of her black stallion.  She strapped the sack containing her clothes to one side then strapped her sword to the other and mounted.

              “We must make haste, Mayvard.”  She said in a flat tone, not wanting to alarm him and not wanting to give the Sorceress the satisfaction of knowing she was right.  “We have many miles to travel.” 

              Mayvard nodded once more, gave Myranda one last farewell kiss and mounted.  Together they kicked their horses into a trot and soon the castle was a mere shadow on the horizon.

              Terryn stood hidden from view on the other side of the stables, not wanting to be seen by the High Protector.  Though he had gotten permission from the King himself to go, he still felt uneasy mounting his horse and riding away from the castle with the feel of the High Protector’s eyes burning through his back. 

              He waited until Rhada and Mayvard were far out of sight then peeked around the corner and saw Myranda standing alone in the dirt filled path, staring after her beloved Captain with tears streaming down her face.

              A pang of sadness filled Terryn’s heart as he watched the Sorceress in silence.  For all the evil that existed behind the castle walls, Myranda was not a part of it and he pitied the poor woman.

              Though he felt the need to reach out and comfort her, he remained hidden from her view.  He stayed as still as a statue until finally, Myranda turned and made her way back towards the castle that loomed in the distance.

              Sighing with relief, Terryn stepped into the stables and saddled his small mare.  She whinnied at him as he placed the bit between her teeth and patted her gently on the head.  He grasped the reins and pulled her from her stall, leading her outside into the crisp air of the late morning. 

              Wasting no time, Terryn mounted and kicked her into motion and soon found himself following the same path that Rhada and Mayvard had traveled down only moments ago.

              It was his mother that gave him the excuse to leave.  For many months now she had been bedridden in her home in the city.  The journey down the path took a quarter of an hour and finally the view of the city opened up before him.

              Axendra was grand in its appearance.  It was the largest city in all of Kaena.  From his view on the hilltop, Terryn could see it all; its tall monuments that were placed sporadically throughout the city to pay tribute to the old Gods; the temples with their spires that rose up higher than any other fortress that surrounded them; the streets that flowed through the city like veins, connecting every block and providing every citizen with a way through the maze of vast buildings and houses; all of it was a sight that made Terryn smile to himself.

             
This city is the reason for everything I do. 
He told himself as he sat idly atop his mare and stared. 
Axendra will be saved.

              Terryn continued down the path through the city but when he came to the fork in the road that would lead him either to his mother’s home or the city gates, he chose the latter.  His mare sauntered on at a reasonable pace as he looked about him to make certain no eyes were following his moves.  When he was certain no one was watching, he approached the guard at the gate and waved.  The guard, upon seeing Terryn, waved back and ordered his men to open the portcullis.  

              The great wall of stone creaked as it swung open before him, leaving an opening for him to escape.  He urged his mare on and soon he was out on the open road.  The sound of the gate closing behind him reached his ears and faded into the distance as he kicked his mare into a trot. 

              The road forked again and where he knew Rhada had taken the road that passes the Forest of the Dead towards Tyos, Terryn turned his mare to the western road and headed for Mordrid. 

              It was within the walls of Mordrid that his allies waited.  Mordrid was where the small ripples of change would begin and spread throughout the rest of the land like an ocean wave. 
Mother will have to wait.

Chapter 8

T
he fire cackled and spit its sparks into the night air as though in anger it was trying to burn the sky above.  The sound of the crickets resonated throughout the tiny canyon in which they had set up camp with a deafening volume.  The ground beneath them was colder than the night air that surrounded them and Rhada found herself pulling the soft woolen blanket that was draped around her shoulders up even higher.  She wrapped the warmth of the blanket tightly around her neck and looked out to the darkness that enveloped them and shuddered.  She always found a strange eeriness lurking within a cold night.

              Mayvard had sat in silent contemplation for some time, watching the rabbit he had caught earlier roast over the flames.  He reached forward and turned the wooden plank he had carved from a fallen branch so the other side could cook, then leaned back and continued his blank daze.

              As Rhada sat quietly watching Mayvard, she could not help but hear Myranda’s words ringing through her ears;
‘It is not just me that you are punishing’
. 

              She studied him closely, waiting for his expression to give something away.  His eyes were cast down upon the ground before him and his expression never changed.  He could be like stone, just as she could.  Rhada sighed in frustration at not being able to read his emotions.

              “Why do you look at me in that way?”  He asked, finally breaking the silence and looking up at her. 

              “I am not giving you any look.”  She tried her best to sound indifferent but knew he would see right through her.  Mayvard was the only person in the world who ever seemed to sense what Rhada was thinking.

              “You were trying to read my expression just now.”  He said, giving her a terse grin.

              Rhada inhaled deeply and returned a smile.  “It seems as though something is troubling you.  I was wondering if it had anything to do with me.  That is all.”

              Mayvard shook his head.  “No, Rhada.  It has nothing to do with you.  Why would you think such a thing?”

              Rhada shifted uncomfortably and stared down at the ground before her in shame.  She knew Mayvard was upset and also knew she was to blame.  Even if he would never admit it to her, it was because of her that he was so dispirited.

              “If I had not asked you come along with me, you would be celebrating your wedding in two days’ time.”

              Mayvard smiled and shook his head.  “My wedding can wait.  I was not even thinking about that.  Besides, you know I would never let you leave without me.”  He leaned forward again and spun the rabbit once more.

              Rhada smiled as she looked back up to him.  “I wasn’t aware you were allowed to decide such things.”

              “It does not matter.  The only way I would have stayed was if you had me locked in the dungeons.” 

              When Rhada looked to her friend, she saw the kindness in his eyes return.  She could not help but smile across the darkness at him.  “You are too good to me.”  She said in almost a whisper and Mayvard chuckled.

              “Perhaps.”  He replied as he pulled the plank from the fire and examined the burnt flesh of the rabbit.  “But if I am not good to you, who will be?”  He asked as a jape.

              With this question, Rhada’s smile faded and the burning loneliness of her life returned.  She gazed at the fire with stone eyes and whispered low enough not even Mayvard heard; “no one”. 

              The next morning, Rhada and Mayvard set off early before the sun had risen.  The faint glow of the morning hue burned on the horizon but the light had not yet reached their eyes.  All around them was darkness and in the chill of the early morning, Rhada kept her heavy fur lined cloak draped about her.  

              The sound of their horse’s hooves padding gently on the soft ground beneath them echoed throughout the empty land and Rhada found the solemnity of the road almost unbearable. 

              After a few hours, she ordered they stop to allow the horses time for rest and so they could eat.  Mayvard immediately pulled some bread and cheese from his pack and gave it to Rhada.  He then pulled another handful from his pack, sat in the grass next to her and began slowly chewing.

              After a few bites, Rhada took a slow drink of water then turned to Mayvard and said; “I was thinking we should take the Trail of Silence through the Forest of the Dead instead of going around.  If all goes well, we will cut seven days out of our journey and arrive directly in North Fort.”

              “From here it is only a four day journey to South Fort where we could resupply.”  Mayvard said between bites.  He swallowed his bread and took a drink of water as well.  “I thought that was your plan all along?”

              Rhada nodded her head.  “It was.”  She said, looking up the road in the direction of South Fort.  The memory of her last visit to South Fort was not a pleasant one and she had no desire to visit the small farming village again. 
They will remember who I am without a doubt. 

              “My main desire is to reach Tyos as quickly as possible.  I think Myranda was right about the urgency of our mission.”

              Mayvard looked to Rhada questioningly.  “Bloodbinder?”
              “It has been alive since we left the castle and grows more restless the farther along we travel.”

              Mayvard nodded his head in understanding.  “So long as we ration carefully, I see no reason why we cannot cut through the forest.”

              Rhada was pleased with his response and smiled with relief.

              “You know, things are different now.”  Mayvard continued after a moment.  Rhada turned her head imploringly.  “It was two years ago… we were at war.  South Fort has rebuilt and moved on.  They would not shun you.”

              “Thank you.”  Rhada said with annoyance.  “But I do not fear the people of South Fort.  If they know what is good for them, they will accommodate me should I choose to pass through but my change in plans has nothing to do with that.”

              “Of course not.”  Mayvard said apologetically.  “Forgive me.”

              Rhada looked back to him and smiled once more.  “How many times have I told you never to ask me to forgive you?  You are the only person who does not need to apologize to me.”

              Mayvard smiled back and nodded.  “You have told me many times.”

              When all of their food was gone, Rhada and Mayvard fetched their horses, mounted and were off once more.  This time, they kicked their horses into a trot and kept as steady a pace as was possible. 
With any luck, we’ll reach the trailhead tomorrow before sundown. 

              Rhada knew the thought of going into the forest with only the two of them should have worried her.  No one ever took the Trail of Silence through the forest because they were afraid of the woods.  Rhada had no fear of the darkness of the woods or the beasts that lurked in them; her fear was entirely of South Fort and the people who dwelled there.

She pressed her steed on, feeling elated that Mayvard had agreed to take the shortcut.  She knew that if she had to, she would have ordered him to accompany her through the forest and he would have had no choice but to obey her command but she was glad that he had accepted on his own accord. 
One less thing to feel guilty about. 

They continued on the road until nightfall.  Rhada was fighting the urge to fall asleep in her saddle and Mayvard was rubbing at his empty, growling belly, wondering when she would give the order to stop for the night.  When finally she did, he practically leapt from his saddle, hastily tied his horse to a tree branch and began rummaging through his pack for some jerky.  Rhada slowly tied her horse to the same tree as Mayvard’s, grabbed her waterskin and made for the trickling stream she could hear through the trees.

The stream was larger than she had expected and the water was cool and clear, a sight that made her smile.  She knelt next to the brook and held the waterskin underneath until it was full.  She set it aside and reached both hands into the water and splashed the dirt from the road off her face.  She then cupped some water in her hands and began running it through her hair until it was properly doused.  She immediately regretted doing so when she stood and felt the temperature around her drop suddenly. 

She looked over to the horizon and saw that the sun had finally sunk below her line of vision and the light around her began to diminish, taking with it the warmth of the day. 

Footsteps through the trees alerted her to someone approaching and she instinctively reached her hand to the hilt of her blade, even though she knew it had to be Mayvard.  When he emerged through the thickness with a smiling face and a handful of jerky, she shamefully removed her grip from the blade. 
Perhaps I need to relax a bit. 

“Jerky?”  Mayvard asked, holding his handful of sustenance towards her.

Rhada took a few small pieces from him and held them in one hand as she reached down to lift the waterskin from the ground with the other.

“I need a pipe and some wine.”  She told him as they walked back to their horses. 

Mayvard chuckled, knowing how heavily Rhada relied on her pipe for comfort.  “I did not bring any wine.”  He said.  “Did you?”

“No.”  Rhada replied regretfully.  The thought had not occurred to her as she was packing.

Rhada ate her jerky slowly, watching with amusement as Mayvard tried to start a fire.  He had found enough kindling amongst the trees and was striking furiously at his stone.  When the sparks finally caught, the dry twigs lit up in one big
whoosh,
igniting the logs above.  Rhada smiled at the sudden warmth surrounding her and leaned back; pulling the pipe from her pocket and lighting it with much more ease than Mayvard had with the fire. 

The smoke escaped from her lips and danced playfully around her head for a moment before dispersing into the night air.  Rhada, satisfied with the taste, held the pipe out and offered it to Mayvard who very politely refused. 

“Can’t stand the feel of it in my chest.”  He said.  Rhada shrugged her shoulders and leaned back again, taking another long puff.

“When I was a young boy, the nanny who often took care of me smoked her pipe every day.  Once, out of curiosity, I stole it while she was not looking and took a long, deep breath from it.”  Mayvard chuckled at the memory; a young, inexperienced boy with an overly curious mind, always getting into trouble.  “I have never coughed so much in my life.”

Rhada chuckled as well.

“I was sick for three days… thought I was dying.” 

“And you have not tried it since?”

“Once.”  Mayvard said.  “I found my father’s pipe and out of respect for him, I lit it and smoked the entire thing.  I was sick for another three days and vowed I would never smoke again.”

Rhada’s smile faded at the mention of Mayvard’s father, Natharian.  She had been close to Natharian during his lifetime and the thought of him brought a heaviness to her heart that had not lifted after all these years.

Mayvard, noticing Rhada’s sudden somber gaze, decided to change the subject. 

“What do you suppose we will encounter in the forest?”

Rhada’s eyes lifted upwards at Mayvard, wondering if perhaps the stoical man was afraid.  “I
hope
we will encounter nothing.  But I have heard of beasts that lurk within the darkness, shadow beasts, ghost wolves and whatever else crawls on four legs.” 

Mayvard stiffened at the names of the beasts.  He never boasted that he was a great hunter but he knew he was exceptionally skilled when it came to tracking down and killing prey.  But Mayvard’s experience dealt mainly with prey that was eaten for supper- deer, rabbits, fowl; anything that could be easily skinned and enjoyed with a cool, crisp ale.  He had never hunted through the darkness of the forests in search of their monsters.  Rhada was the only person he had ever met who had managed to kill a shadow beast- an accomplishment worthy of acknowledgment.  Her ability to track it down was notable enough to rank her as one of the best hunters the realm had ever seen, but still Mayvard felt a shudder of uneasiness as he thought about their chances of running into something that could maim and eat them.  Mayvard was never afraid whilst hunting, being that he was always the predator.  To become the prey was a terrifying thought. 

“You look tense.”  Rhada observed, hoping that she did not make Mayvard uncomfortable.  She wondered if perhaps he was now regretting so easily agreeing to travel through the Forest of the Dead. 

The forest had a sordid history- one that many claimed never happened.  Rhada supposed they made these claims out of fear in believing the truth. 

It was said that long ago, during the dark wars, a very powerful Sorcerer was sweeping across the north with an army of shadows.  Amag’mar was his name and he was known for destroying half the realm before his brother, Faine, with a stroke of luck, finally put an end to him. 

But before the dark wars were ended, Amag’mar chased his brother’s forces to the south, passing through the forest on their way.  It was here, where many of Faine’s less courageous men fell behind, hoping to find some reprieve in the density of the trees.  It was said they had been holed up in Bhrys for weeks before making their escape to the south and many of them were unwilling to be a part of the fiasco anymore.