Taming the Elements: Elwin Escari Chronicles: Volume 1 (41 page)

Elwin nodded.

“Get some rest,” Feffer said. “I’ll take first watch.”

Elwin opened his mouth to protest, but a yawn emerged instead. Elwin closed his eyes and laid back. “Wake me when you need to rest. Alright?”

If Feffer replied before sleep took him, Elwin hadn’t heard.

Elwin opened his eyes and had to squint. Petals of light fell from the trees all around him. He knew he was in the shadow realm, because he could see his sleeping body. But, something was different.

He looked over to where Feffer sat and froze.

An image floated above his friend. It was a figure of pale green with features identical to Feffer. The eyes of the figure were closed as if sleeping. As Feffer moved, the image followed above like Elwin’s essence followed him.

This didn’t make any sense. Feffer had an essence? Did this mean he could tame the Elements? He tried to think back to Jasmine’s lessons. He could almost hear her voice speak the words.

“Everyone has an essence, but only elementalists can sense it. Think of the essence as the mind’s consciousness. The mind’s eye of the gifted is awake. Those without the ability to tame cannot see through their mind’s eye. It is as if their consciousness is sleeping.”

Was that what he was seeing? Why was Feffer’s green instead of white? And why had he never seen it before? He wanted to find Jasmine. She would know what it all meant. But she wasn’t here.

Maybe there was a way to open his mind’s eye.

Elwin went over and touched the arm of the sleeping image, and the real Feffer shivered. Elwin jerked his hand away. Then he sat and watched his friend. Had the eyes of the image fluttered open, or had that been Elwin’s imagination?

Chapter
2
2

The Enemy

Bain walked down the dirt road toward the cobblestone square. He stopped in the middle of the square and looked at the inn.

The front of the building had been removed. Support beams of redwood held the front of the inn from collapsing. The reputation of the redwoods of Justice were not exaggerated, or so it would seem.

Still, Zeth’s fireball had been foolhardy. Most other structures of the inn’s size hit with a fireball would have been destroyed, along with the inhabitants. As it happened, his son had been in the inn when it was set aflame. Zeth would need to be reprimanded. The man had recovered his son, so the reprimand would be light.

Bain turned in a circle, glaring at the small village. If it could be called that. A dozen buildings or so had been erected on either side of the road. No training yards were there to maximize a child’s potential. There were no mountains to teach him survival skills.

“This is where you left him,” Bain said. “You left him with a stranger to keep him from me. You left him in a peasant’s life to keep him from his destiny.”

He could feel his heartbeat rise more than a thousand leagues away. Before the gift of the Father, he had not been able to travel more than a league from his body. He was beyond that now.

“Elwin would be beyond it as well,” Bain said, “if you had not taken him from me.”

Bain closed his eyes and forced his heartbeat to slow. He had tasks to accomplish. Allowing himself to anger would not be conducive to his goals.

“My liege,” a female voice said.

Bain opened his eyes to see Lana standing in the middle of the square. Often her soul wore the attire she had adorned during the day. Her black dress had red trim and was crafted from hard cloth. Like all of her dresses, it was touched with the Elements. Her dress would protect her from extreme climates and deflect a sword thrust better than the heaviest armor.

She glided to him without moving her legs, “It is done.”

“What did the inquisitors decide?”

“They have found Elwin not guilty, your grace,” she answered. “However, they want to put him to the
question
for what Zeth did to this town.”

“Being put to the question is no different than a death sentence,” he said through his teeth. “They would kill my son, when he is innocent. They only condemn themselves further.”

“It is as you say, my king.”

“Have you spoken with your informant in the castle?” he asked.

“Aye, your grace,” she said. “A woman named Linadria is the only elementalist remaining in the city. The main force of Justice’s army is still garrisoned within the walls, but the Life witch and her daughter will be leaving on the morrow for Goldspire.”

“Very good,” Bain said. “I have a contingent of skeletal warriors and a lesser savant prepared to receive the cohort outside of Justice that is bound for Goldspire. Any survivors will not be enough to contend with Zeth, Fasuri, and the lessers that I have waiting for them.”

“My liege,” she said, “I must warn you. A few amongst their ranks have touched weapons and are trained to battle the Elements. Their commander, Zaak Lifesong, and two of his men, a dwarf and a Chai Tu Naruo are seasoned. They have battled with our number for Alcoa at the start of the war. They only returned to their home to prepare their own lands to receive us.”

“
I am aware of Zaak Lifesong,” Bain assured her. “Fasuri met Lifesong in the battle for Brentwood and lost. He has been eager to regain his honor. Surprise is ours.”

“What do you command of me?”

“You will return to my castle,” he told her. “Elwin’s retraining will require your tender hand.”

“Your grace,” she said, “will I not be better use in taking the castle?”

“There is a single elementalist,” he said. “Mordeci and Emmantis have the soulless one and a score of skeletal warriors, as well as two dozen Lessers. Your skills will be better served at home.”

“May I at least aid in Goldspire?” she said.

“That would be most unwise,” Bain said. “Elwin might see you as his captor. I would have him see you as his ally. You have turned the ear of this other lord. Paradine? There is nothing more for you here. You will gather the Escari woman and sail on the morrow.”

“Yes, my liege,” she bowed, “I will do as you say.”

After she was gone, Bain visited the farm where Elwin had been raised. He materialized in the fields.

It would seem the soulless one had been successful as a farmer. The evidence of the man’s success would soon be no more. The livestock had been scattered and grazed freely. Soon, wolves would descend upon them or they would be recaptured by other farmers. Rows of tall stalks were flourishing, but it wouldn’t be long before weeds and insects overtook them.

He looked upon the small farmhouse. The entirety of the wooden building could sit in a corner of his bed chamber. There was an iron tub to the right of the building.

His son had bathed outdoors like a savage beast.

He glided to the porch past the bench swing and through the door to the common room of the hovel. Small cushioned benches surrounded the heart where a fire blazed.

On the couch was Melra Escari with her stomach flat to the couch and her hands bound to her ankles. A leather strap connected the rope around her legs to a noose around her neck. If she squirmed an inch, she would choke herself. If she dozed off or slept, the weight of her legs would cut off her breath.

Emmantis stood next to a small table. He had been one of the first children taken all those years ago from Kalicodon. His soul was a reflection of his physical body, hard and practical. It was said the Kalicodians shared a common ancestry with the Chai Tu Naruo. Like the Chai Tu Naruo, his people wore loin cloths, but he adorned himself in trousers and a sleeveless tunic. He had the shape of a warrior with long corded arms and the darkened skin of his Kalicodon nation. But he had the courage and pragmatic thoughts of a leader.

Emmantis knelt as he said, “My liege.”

“I see you are giving the lady Escari all of the courtesies befitting a traitor. Very good. But make sure she still breaths when she reaches me.”

“Yes, my liege.”

“Are there any survivors in Benedict?”

“An old man and woman,” he said, “and a dozen children. I spared them.”

“The small ones don’t make efficient skeletal warriors, and if they are ungifted, they have no worth to me. You did well to spare them.”

“His grace is kind.”

“On the morrow, command one of the lessers gifted with Air to carry the captive to Eastport. Lana will retrieve her within the tenday.”

“Yes, my liege.”

“Rise,” Bain said. Emmantis obeyed.

“Where is Mordeci?” Bain asked.

“He is training the soulless one, my liege.”

“Very good,” Bain said. “Take me to him.”

“As my liege commands,” Emmantis said.

He felt the soul of Emmantis dissipate and materialize half a league away. Bain followed him.

The field had a score of skeletal warriors garbed in peasants’ clothes. Some were wielding swords, axes or poleaxes, but many carried pitchforks or nothing at all. Their bites and scratches were an effective weapon as well.

The soulless one sat atop an undead horse. The Death mount was crafted from a living horse and bound by the same soulkey. They were as one mind, though the horse was subordinate to the man. With a thought, the soulless one could move his mount. Such a beast was the answer to a warrior’s dream.

But the man with dark hair and brown eyes was no warrior. His strength was amplified and his speed increased, but he had no skill with the sword in his hand. Not as if it mattered.

A soulless one was beyond death. The most skilled swordsman could not kill the man. Hack a soulless one to pieces and his life would not be extinguished. There was but one way to destroy a soulless one.

The man Elwin had called Father moved through the sword routines at Mordeci’s command. Bain studied him for a moment. There was a defiance in his eyes, befitting a warrior instead of a farmer. Bain smiled. A fitting punishment. Drenen Escari was a prisoner in his own body.

Part of a soulless one’s will was his own. So long as he obeyed the commands, his own mind controlled the body. The struggle for control was the true punishment for the soulless one. Bain could order the man to kill his own wife, and he would. However he fought the command, in the end, a soulless one obeyed his master.

When next he saw Mordeci, Bain would commend him on the training.

Being in the waking world, Mordeci could not be aware of Bain’s presence, even though he stood not more than a few paces away.
Mordeci’s asymmetric face and gaunt features belied the man’s strengths. He was a precise tool. He found pleasure in the pain of others and knew how to incite fear like no other. But Mordeci had few uses beyond his cruelty.

“Perhaps the soulless one will be ready when the fighting begins.”

“He will my liege.”

The soulless one looked upon Bain. Their eyes met. Bain could see hatred burning in the eyes of the soulless one.

“Interesting,” Bain said. “I was unaware the soulless one could see Spirits in the shadow realm. Can he hear one as well? There is still much to learn of the soulkey’s power not spoken of in the book.”

The man atop the horse began to tremble, and his eyes became a swirling fog. The Undead Stead began to rear, throwing the trembling man from its back.

“Poor farmer,” Bain said. “He is too peasant-minded to know when he is defeated.”

Bain turned to Emmantis, “I have seen enough here. You have your orders. There are other matters which require my attention.”

“Yes, my liege.”

Bain focused his mind on Goldspire.

Above Zarah, few dark clouds hid the starlit night. Chill wind flowed around her as she sustained her flight. She had never known the summer nights could be so cold. In truth, Zarah had never flown at night. Before now, she had always traveled in a wagon.

Though she would never admit it, flying several leagues at a time was more difficult than she had assumed. That first day had been the most taxing, only stopping for lunch before nightfall. She had collapsed before Mother had started the fire. The next several days had been marginally better.

The air surrounding Zarah gushed even colder for a moment. Beneath her wool dress, she felt goose pimples cover her flesh. She shivered and rubbed at her arms as she flew.

A hot bath, that was what she wanted. Maybe there would be a town or an inn waiting ahead. She wanted some spiced wine and a quiet place where she could brush the tangles from her hair.

She had pulled her hair into a tail for flight, but there was no time for a braid before departing every morning. The lack of a braid made her feel masculine. Zarah had seen several women with warrior tails, but they looked manly.

Mother had suggested she wear trousers instead of a dress. She opted for full leggings instead. They allowed her the modesty necessary without making her look like a boy. One would certainly mistake her for a boy if she had a warrior’s tail
and
trousers. Though, the trousers would have been warmer.

Although Zarah could not see her mother ahead of her, she could feel her mother taming the flow of Air to sustain her flight. It was her beacon to follow.

Far below to the north was the small contingent. Men followed along the wagons, carrying torches or lanterns. Though she couldn’t see their faces through the darkness at this distance, she knew her father would be on the horse in the lead. It had only been an hour since sunset, but it would be another hour until Father made camp.

It had taken Zarah and her mother less than a tenday to catch up to the procession. At this rate, it would take another tenday to make Goldspire.

Zarah felt her mother slow down ahead of her, and she caught up to her before she could slow her own flow of Air. It always grated her how Elwin could change directions much faster than she could.

“They were not supposed to stop,” Mother said. “Wait here while I see what they are doing.”

She felt Air stop flowing through her mother and watched her dive in the direction of the lights. The torches and lanterns moved back and forth in sporadic motions, and the procession of wagons had ceased.