The Essence Gate War: Book 01 - Adept (12 page)

They cooled
and watered the horses, and while the animals grazed the travelers gathered dry wood for a fire and cut brush and saplings for the mouth of the cave; this would both mask the glow from the fire and help disperse the smoke rolling from the entrance so that it would be less visible against the night sky. Then they brought the horses up the treacherous trail with great care, and once deep within the cave, gave them their feed bags and hobbled them. Without a word, Valkarr brought his meal with him to the cave entrance to take the first watch, while Amric and Halthak ate around the fire. Bellimar waved off all offers of food, citing delicate digestion and asserting that he had partaken often of his travel rations as they rode. The old man showed no signs of fatigue, and Amric marveled at his constitution despite his age.

They ate in silence for a time, except for the
staccato snap and crackle of the fire, and the occasional snort from the horses. Amric sat cross-legged, lost in thought, watching the flames writhe and dance. It was Bellimar’s voice that finally roused him from his reverie.

“
Valkarr is not much for conversation, is he?” he said.

“
He is more comfortable in the Sil’ath language,” Amric admitted. “But even then, he will not share much until he knows and trusts you well. I suppose that makes me the talkative one.”

Bellimar smiled
. “I would know more of the Sil’ath party you seek. What caused you to send them here?”

“You have most of the pieces by now, but I imagine the story bears repeating in order
, and in more detail.”

Amric sighed and leaned back against his bedroll
. “Strange as it may seem, I am the warmaster, the military leader, of a large Sil’ath tribe. They are my family, the only one I have ever known, and I would die for them just as any of them would for me. I would have you know this, so you may understand I did not lightly send them into harm’s way. We live to the southwest, near the human city of Lyden. We are allies with the people of Lyden, enjoying a relationship of trade and mutual respect that was built over years, and that both sides now strive to maintain.

“Months ago, the residents of
the countryside around Lyden began disappearing. Only a few at first, but more over time, and there was no explanation. Speculation and rumor soon filled that void, and there were some among the citizenry that feared their Sil’ath neighbors were responsible, for vaporous reasons that only made sense to a fearful populace. A number of rural Lydenites were found brutally slaughtered one day, and our carefully wrought alliance was nearly undone in that moment. Tensions exploded, and there were cries for the blood of my tribe as atonement. We were baffled that they would look to us as the source of these atrocities after so many years of peaceful coexistence, but that would not have prevented us from raising our blades to defend ourselves against the attack so many were urging.

“To their credit, the leaders of Lyden
remained rational, recognizing that we lacked motivation for the crimes and that the evidence did not support it either; the attacks were too savage, too bestial, and too chaotic to have been done by Sil’ath. We met with their leaders, and agreed to help them patrol outside the city to search for the attackers, though we were further southwest from the city and as yet unaffected by whatever plagued the city’s outskirts.”

Amric paused, staring into the fire as
images rose unbidden in his head.

“It did not take long,” he continued
after a moment. “Our patrols, and Lyden’s as well, encountered dark and unfamiliar creatures hunting the deep countryside at night. For every nightmare we dispatched, another would take its place after a few nights. After a few months of this, it became evident that the number and variety of the creatures was increasing. Our patrols fought skirmishes almost every night by then, against varkhuls and viles, against greels and wights and more. It was costing precious lives to learn the tricks and weaknesses of each new creature. Lyden lost far more, for our warriors were much more capable, but we also had fewer to lose. It did not take a seer to forecast a future when our forces would be too few or too exhausted to protect us all any longer. And it was only a matter of time before something slipped through our patrol net and reached our homes.

“We met again with Lyden’s city council
. It is not the Sil’ath way to fight a losing defensive battle, and we desired to mount an offensive, if we could but determine the source to target. Lyden, with a standing military that outnumbered ours a hundred to one, was more inclined to debate the matter endlessly while fortifying their defenses.”

Amric heard the bitterness behind his own words and took a
calming breath before resuming.

“Lyden was
helpful in one respect, however. It was through them that we learned of the plight of Keldrin’s Landing, and how the countryside here was overrun even as our own was fast becoming. The realm’s scholars maintained that the source was in this region somewhere, for here the troubles had been seen first and remained most concentrated. Embattled Lyden could spare no forces to aid in the defense of Keldrin’s Landing, however. Neither could we, for that matter, as our tribe was too small to contribute and still protect itself.

“For us, the decision was to withstand and wait, or to abandon our homes and stay ahead of the spreading wave, or to attack the problem at its source
. We lacked enough information to make that decision, and the flow of news from Keldrin’s Landing was maddeningly slow. As Lyden was mired in indecision, Keldrin’s Landing appeared mired in politics and greed. So we sent five of our most capable warriors to this region, to travel quickly and gather what knowledge they could to aid in the larger effort. They were to bring that knowledge back to the tribe, knowledge that would help us select the best course of action.”

He glanced up from the fire and found Bellimar and Halthak
leaning forward, engrossed, intent on his every word.

“As you know,” Amric said, “my warriors did not return
. The attacks were increasing, we still needed answers, and we refused to abandon our warriors to unknown fates. I urged the tribal leaders to relocate the tribe further south, out of harm’s way for a time. Then Valkarr and I delegated our command duties and traveled here.”

“A warmaster is not the tribal leader, then?” Halthak asked.

Amric shook his head. “Among the Sil’ath, the warmaster is the final authority on military matters only. For other matters, the warmaster is but one member of the tribal council.”

“Did your tribe
leave their homes, as you advised?” Bellimar asked.

“
I hope so. The decision was made, but Valkarr and I left before preparations were fully underway. It is no easy thing to leave one’s home, even for a people with a nomadic history, like the Sil’ath.”

Amric sighed and pushed a hand through
his brown-blonde hair. “Come, friends, I am feeling expansive, and we who may be fighting back to back in the coming days should have few secrets. What else would you know?”

Bellimar’s response was immediate
. “How did you, a human, come to live among the Sil’ath and become their warmaster?”

“Not much to tell there,” Amric said
with a shrug. “I was too young to remember, but I am told I was found as a child, abandoned and alone, by a Sil’ath hunting party. The tribe gave me a home, and held me to the same standards as any Sil’ath youth. Eventually, I assumed duties in their warrior ranks to contribute to the tribe.”

“Bah,” Bellimar protested
. “You have nothing of the bard in you, swordsman. You could drain all the color from an epic tale, with such a bland retelling.”

“As I
said, there is not much to tell,” Amric said with a shrug.

Bellimar snorted
. “I see you would make me work for it. So be it.”

He leaned forward until the firelight
danced in his eyes and shimmered upon his silver hair, and began firing questions. “Where were you found, just lying about under the open sky somewhere? The Sil’ath are known for their pragmatism, often seen as cold-hearted by other races. Why would they bother to save a helpless human child, given their generally low opinion of that race, much less adopt one? And how did you become warmaster, a rank reserved for the greatest warrior in the tribe, among a people born, bred and renowned for their martial skill?”

Amric chuckled
. “You attempt to spin epic drama from nothing. Very well, my friend, I will answer your questions in order. I was found in an otherwise empty dwelling in the forest, many miles from any human city, though members of the hunting party were not able to lead me to it years later. Nay, spare me your theatrical looks, Bellimar; this was many years later, the forests were vast, and that strange cottage may not have stood so long. Why did they take me in? I do not know, but I am eternally grateful. Had they been friendlier with Lyden at the time, I am certain they would have taken me there and been rid of me. Had I proven unworthy, they would have done it anyway, regardless of their distaste for contact with human society. Instead, however, I set myself to vindicating their choice in saving my life. Why did I become warmaster? Every member of Sil’ath society contributes in some way to the greater good, and I was better with weapons than with crafting or other skills.”

Bellimar had opened his mouth to object when Valkarr’s voice echoed
back from the mouth of the cave. His words were low and sibilant, spoken in the Sil’ath language, and followed by a dry chuckle. Amric laughed and, plucking a pebble from the cave floor, threw it at his friend.

“What did he say?” Halthak asked.

Amric grinned. “He said they felt pity for my stupendous ugliness, and that he had been begging his father for a pet anyway. Valkarr’s father led the hunting party that found me, and it was Valkarr’s parents who gave me a home.”

Valkarr rose and padded
into the cave on silent feet. He stood above Amric, looking down at him, and put his fists on his hips in a very human gesture. He spoke in the human tongue this time, with frequent halts to enunciate and choose his words.

“Amric is too modest,” he said
. “We are sword-brothers, closer than blood, raised together. To our tribe’s great honor, he became our most skilled warrior. Even new weapons he picks up and they speak to him, and he is fearsome with them. He is a great strategist and leader, finding victory where others see only ruin.
This
is why he is warmaster. It was our fortune to find him in the forest that day, long ago. He will always be my finest friend.” He cocked his head down at Amric. “Is ‘finest’ correct word? What is correct word?”

“Ugliest,” Amric
replied with a grin. He reached up to clasp wrists with his comrade. Valkarr then turned on his heel and returned to the cave mouth to resume his watch.

Bellimar was tapping one slender finger against his chin
. “You raise as many questions as you resolve, swordsman, but it appears you may not know the answers yourself. And it brings me no closer to understanding your peculiar lack of aura.”

Amric spread his hands
. “Perhaps magic recognizes my aversion for it, and has forsaken me in return.”

“I know you jest,” Bellimar said, “as I have already explained that it does not work that way
. You cannot simply secede from the laws of nature.”

“I am confident you will solve the riddle,
old man, and we will both be edified in the process.”

“Now you mock me,” Bellimar accused, a sardonic smile twisting his features
. “Your aura may yet show itself, and I will be there to observe it if so. Even if it does not, an explanation will come to me in time.”

“I am not certain whether to wish you luck or not,” the warrior said with his own smile
. “So I will instead wish you enjoyment in the search. In the meantime, given the many faults in my storytelling, perhaps you would favor us with a proper example.”

“And what challenge would you lay before me
? Am I to spin a fable to speed you to your dreams?”

“Nothing so grandiose,” Amric laughed
. “I would know the origin of your name. Morland reacted as if it held meaning to him. It seems familiar to me as well, but hangs just beyond my recollection.”

“Ah,” Bellimar said
. “A true telling of that tale would carry us through to the morning light, but I will try to do justice to a drastically shortened version.”

H
e leaned back and the shadows folded about him, leaving only the faint outline of his features and the luminous glow of the firelight from his eyes. His voice, sepulchral of a sudden, slid from the darkness to encircle them, and Amric felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle as he listened.

“Centuries ago, so many
centuries ago that written histories of the era are lost to the fogs of time, a mighty human sorcerer walked this world. Obsessed with the arcane from his youth, he advanced his knowledge with single-minded determination. When he surpassed his masters, he abandoned them to find more. Eventually, so rapid was his learning, he exhausted the mentors who were willing to teach him. The few who had knowledge he did not became reluctant to share it, alarmed by his unchecked increase in power and his continual lust for more. But the sorcerer would not be thwarted, and his tenuous grasp on morals fell before his drive. He captured those who would not willingly aid him and wrested away their secrets, and he stole the artifacts others sought to keep from him. When he had reached the boundaries of mortal knowledge, still he was not content. He reached into the dark energies beyond, probing, experimenting, mastering. Other masters panicked at the path he was traversing, but he was beyond reason and had grown too powerful for them to prevent his progress. Some tried to combine their forces against him, but aided by his new dark powers, he repelled them with ease.