The Archon's Apprentice (16 page)

Mikol looked around the cage again. He was tempted to search the bodies for anything of use, but he figured if they had anything, they would have used it before dying. He was examining a few of the bodies when he noticed one of the bodies propped up in the corner. He shuddered to think he would be sleeping in the cage as he carefully stepped over the bodies. The first thing he saw was the brutality of torture. The man was missing both hands: They were cut, or possibly torn off, at the wrists. One leg was severed around the knee. The other leg was not much better: The foot was visibly broken and only had one toe left. There was no clothing left on the man and the rest of his body was covered in cuts. Mikol saw a pattern to the cuts. He looked closer and finally grasped the meaning to all of the cuts. He had to turn away, too terrified of who this man was. He forced himself to look at the man’s swollen, distended face. He was hardly recognizable. Mikol knew this body had once been Perim. He turned away again, feeling tears streaming down his face. He rushed to the opposite corner of the cage near the door and sagged down on the floor, feeling utterly defeated.

***

When Mikol awoke, he could not remember falling asleep. It seemed like it had gotten darker, but the few fires that had been close were now embers and only one of the torches was still lit. He tried to find what had woken him but he could see nothing but shadows. He began to think he had just woken by himself when he heard voices. He waited silently. The voices were coming closer. When the voices cleared the tent line, Mikol could see it was the same two men as before. He stood up to face whatever they were going to do. One of the men laughed at a joke the other man had said. They both were laughing until they saw Mikol standing in the cage.
 

“What do you think you’re doing, little man?”

Mikol only started at them, looking slowly between the two.
 

“Maybe he is too scared to move. Let’s make him dance.”

The taller of the two stepped closer to the cage. He grabbed one of the unlit torch poles in the ground and lifted it up. He discarded the unlit torch and thrust the pole in to the cage with a roar. The pole entered the cage easily, but Mikol sidestepped the thrust just as easily. The man withdrew the pole and thrust again. Mikol dodged it just as easily. This only infuriated the man and he tried harder to hit Mikol. He could not do it. The second man laughed and slapped the first man on the back.

“Come on, hit’m.”

Enraged, the man thrust the pole faster and faster. Eventually, he started to flail the pole around inside the cage, just trying to hit Mikol. Mikol was able to dodge out of the way of the pole for a while but he knew he could not continue long. He braced himself, dodged into a swing and caught the pole in his hands. Both men yelped. The first man frantically pulled at the pole but Mikol held fast. The second man unsheathed his sword and thrust it in the cage. Mikol had to drop the pole to avoid the blade. The pole was quickly removed and tossed aside. The second man shook his head and sheathed his sword.

“That could have gone better,” said the second man.

The first man gave his partner a rude gesture and spat at Mikol. The second man grabbed the door of the cage to make sure it was still locked and jerked his head at his partner to leave. Breathing heavy at the slight embarrassment, the first man straightened his torn Ternian uniform and looked at Mikol.

“I am going to enjoy watching you squirm for the General.”
 

He took a step toward Mikol to spit on him again but fell onto the wall of the cage and slid down. The second man had unsheathed his sword again. Mikol could see the man looking around frantically. There was nothing to see. Mikol smiled big as he saw the crossbow bolt sticking out of the head of the man on the ground. Mikol reached down through the cage to grab at the dead man’s weapon. His partner wheeled on Mikol and swung his sword. Mikol jumped out of the way of the sword. The man rushed forward to look at his dead partner.
 

The man looked between Mikol and the bolt in the man’s head. The terror was obvious on the man’s face. He growled at Mikol and turned to face his unknown attacker. Knowing what to listen for, Mikol heard the twang of Bayle’s crossbow a second before the man hit the cage, falling on top of his partner.
 

“What took you so long?” said Mikol.

“I had to scout the camp. Do you know how many guards and soldiers I had to kill?”

“Uh, no, how many?”

“Actually, only those two. I think this whole camp is a decoy. The only active soldiers I saw were the patrols. After avoiding them I wasn’t stopped or seen at all. I even checked in a couple of the tents too. Nothing in them.”

Bayle made a big show of searching the bodies for the key. When Mikol sighed, Bayle snickered and held up the keys. Mikol rolled his eyes at him.

“Great, now can you open this gate.”

“Any of them still alive?” Bayle nodded to the bodies behind Mikol.

“No, and I’m not sure how long ago they died.”

Bayle unlocked the door but Mikol did not leave the cage immediately. He looked back at Perim’s body. Bayle looked confusedly at Mikol for a moment before looking at the body too. Bayle placed a hand on Mikol’s shoulder.

“Perim?”

Mikol nodded. They both stood in the doorway. Neither of them spoke. Mikol felt like he should say something, but nothing he thought of seemed good enough. It was all he could do to not break down and cry again. Mikol heard Bayle sniffle before he spoke.
 

“Do you know where they are keeping the pendant?”

The question brought Mikol back to himself. He nodded once and then again confidently. He picked up one of the swords of the dead men. He pointed with a sword and moved forward.

“This General Trokan is keeping my things in Perim’s command tent.”

“We should be able to make it there without any difficulty. There are only two other patrols and they should be on the other side of the camp by now.”

They were able to walk almost directly to the command tent. They heard heavy snoring coming from one of the tents and walked around to avoid it. Mikol guessed the two dead men at the cage were the general’s guards. No one stood outside the general’s tent. Mikol walked through the front flap of the tent with his sword ready to strike. Bayle held the tent flap aside to let in some of the torchlight. He had reloaded a bolt and was aiming his crossbow at the unmoving body of the general. Certain the general was sleeping, Mikol made his way around the table. Laying down the borrowed blade, he first picked up the pendant. He let out the breath he had been holding when he saw the red arrow pointing east. He slipped the pendant over his head. He caressed Raythrael’s scabbard before buckling it on to his waist.
 

He heard a low whistle coming from the front of the tent. He looked up to see Bayle nodding toward the general. Trokan lay still but his eyes were open. The man sat up in his cot slowly while staring at Mikol. The hatred was evident in his gaze. Mikol gathered the rest of his items and last threw his cloak over his shoulders.
 

“You don’t think you will escape, do you?” asked Trokan.

“I’m not here to escape. I came here to get answers from a dead man.” Mikol drew Raythrael and leveled it at Trokan. Even with the limited torchlight entering the tent, Raythrael glowed in the darkness. “What are you doing here?”

Trokan stayed silent while slowly looking between Mikol and Bayle.
 

“What did you to the men in my army?”

This elicited a response from the General as he raised both eyebrows.

“Your army? Who are you?”

“It doesn’t matter who I am. All that matters right now is you tell me what I want to know. What happened to my men?” Mikol walked closer, bringing Raythrael within inches of the General’s throat.

“Mikol, kill him. We don’t have time for this. He is not going to tell us anything.”

As Mikol turned away, the general took advantage of the momentary lapse of concentration and leapt at Mikol. Bayle fired his crossbow a moment too late and the bolt ripped through the tent side. Trokan pushed aside Mikol’s arm and forced him to drop Raythrael. Mikol’s training kicked in and he grabbed the general’s arm to stop the dagger aimed at his heart. The momentum of the leap pushed Mikol off his feet. Trokan landed on top of him. Mikol did not know how he had been able to keep the dagger from stabbing him. He saw Bayle rush over and wrap his arm around the general’s neck. Mikol had a momentary reprieve as Bayle pulled the general up. Trokan grunted and pushed his head backward, catching Bayle on the chin. Mikol had no time to see if Bayle was conscious as Trokan attempted to stab him again.
 

Mikol was able to slap aside Trokan’s arm, causing the attack to miss. Mikol rolled toward the table, away from Trokan. He felt a hand on his leg but kicked it away. Mikol heard a throaty growl as he reached for the other sword. In one motion Mikol snatched the blade, turned, and stabbed the sword at Trokan. Mikol caught Trokan’s arm in his left hand before the next attack would have pierced him with the dagger. Both men stared at each other for a long moment. Mikol held the dagger at bay and only when he saw blood seep out of Trokan’s mouth did he see the sword he still held was hilt deep in Trokan’s chest. A feral look appeared in the general’s eyes. The dagger slowly inched its way towards Mikol as the general started to mouth words. Mikol could not hold it back much longer.

Mikol saw another dagger appear at the general’s throat. The general’s words were lost as the blade drew a deep cut across his neck. His hands relaxed and the dagger fell. Mikol watched as the life flowed out of the general. He pushed the body off of him with the sword still in Trokan’s chest. Bayle held his bloody dagger, looking for any sign Trokan still lived. Mikol took deep breaths waiting for his heartbeat to slow. He retrieved Raythrael and they listened for any sound from outside the tent. When they heard none, Bayle pushed the tent flap aside slowly. The night was still thick but dawn was palpable. They left the tent quickly. Mikol followed Bayle’s lead.
 

They passed dangerously close to many of the tents. Mikol’s hand did not leave Raythrael’s hilt until they arrived at their horses. Bayle had found Mikol’s horse among the army’s horses and had tethered his own next to it. Mikol mounted up, happy to see that Bayle had prepared their horses already. Before mounting up, Bayle untethered all of the other horses. Once they were both mounted, Bayle bellowed at the herd and slapped a few horses. Mikol and Bayle rode east and the horses followed for a time. After some time the horses dispersed. They stopped long enough for their own horses to rest and drink. When they heard horns in the distance, Mikol knew they were in for a long ride.

Chapter 11

Cobinstil

Mikol was unaware of when they had stopped for the night or even when they had started the next day. Their escape blurred in his mind and all he could think about was how he had failed Perim. He had done nothing to help. He felt stupid for continuing to train for the tournament when all his brothers were off saving the kingdom. He could not bear to look at Bayle and see someone else he cared about be disappointed.

They rode hard and fast in complete silence for three days, only resting to save the horses, before Bayle tried talking. Mikol did not respond to Bayle. Instead he pulled out the pendant to check their course again. Mikol had not had to alter their course at all since they escaped. The pendant pointed directly east towards the Dagger Peaks in the distance. While Mikol could not be certain, he felt the cache would be hidden in the mountains, but the pendant seemed to be leading them farther towards the southern base of the range.
 

“It wasn’t your fault,” said Bayle.

Surprised, Mikol whipped his head around to look at Bayle incredulously.
 

“I should have done more.”

“Like what? Perim had an army with him. How could you have done more?”

Mikol shook his head, whether as an answer or to clear his head he did not know. He urged his horse forward slowly.
 

“What are we doing out here?” asked Mikol.

“Well, I am following you, so if you don’t know ...”

Mikol sighed.

“No, I mean what are we doing chasing after something unknown? Without any help from Wardens or ... anyone. For all we know the weapons are as big as a trebuchet. How are we supposed to get that back to Valefort?”

“That’s why we brought so much gold. Well, about half as much now since the only thing they took from your bags was the gold. But, if it is that big we will hire some people to help us take it back. Remember, this is old runic magic. Much more powerful than current magic from what you’ve told me, so I doubt it will be huge,” said Bayle.

“Even after we find this cache, what then? Runes didn’t help Perim.”

“Hey, we don’t know what happened there. Maybe he was surprised. Maybe they came at night and took out all the guards. For all we know they had hundreds of those Death Hellion things. You told me how little the magic affected it.”

“Yeah.” Mikol sighed. “We don’t know. But that pretty much means Arceri and Turos are also dead.”

“Mikol, stop being a horse’s ass. We don’t know anything about their situations. You know Arceri is smart. I am sure he’s still alive. He’s probably battling the real Sibilovan army up north. Turos is probably dead, unless he was able to defeat the assassin with his outrageous outfits. I don’t know, maybe he brought the army to its knees with his clashing colors.”

Mikol laughed despite himself. He nodded to Bayle and even forced a thin smile on to his face. They continued to ride east in silence. The next two nights Mikol’s dour mood slowly dissipated. He was still certain this was a fool’s errand but could not think of anything else he could have done at home that would have helped.

Five days after they had escaped from the blood army they found themselves entering a large valley. The river Erova cut a path through the middle and was the official border between Ternia and Sibilova. A thousand years ago, they would have been entering Cyrotul. Cyrotul had been ruled by warlords who rose to power by conquering everything they came across until they were overthrown by another warlord. Many started to call it the Savage Kingdoms. Ternia, unable to keep track of which country owed allegiance to whom, decided to call the whole region Sibilova. Many of the warlords began to embrace the singular name and sought to unite Sibilova under one banner.