The Sigil Blade (24 page)

Irial was no longer there. He judged that less than half an hour had passed. He was nervous, but he had to try again. He closed his eyes and tried to repeat the process, but it wouldn’t work. The experience had unsettled him too much. He wanted to talk with someone. The fear and excitement that he felt were too much to be held in. Edryd stood up, shook his coat to loosen bits of grass and debris that clung to his back, and began looking east. He wondered for a moment why he felt so certain about the direction. He wasn’t sure, but he suspected he had recognized her in the patterns left in the dark. He almost felt like he still could. Edryd sat back down and decided to wait, trying to see if he could get a sense of Irial’s location in the woods, and perhaps fooling himself that he could.

She returned with a pile of blackberries loaded into her scarf, covered by mint leaves layered above them. She also had a piece of honeycomb wrapped in some leaves and a bundle of hedge cleaver plants collected from the edges of the meadow. Sitting down beside him, she began mashing the hedge cleaver in the hollow of a stone until it became a moist paste. She mixed this with honey and spread it over Edryd’s cuts.

“Does Seoras know who I am?” Edryd asked.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “You think he might?”

“If he does, he hasn’t said anything. But he was already in a rage when I showed up. He attacked me only moments after I came through the gate. Something was different.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Irial objected. “I couldn’t have been very far away when it started.”

“Swords were drawn,” Edryd explained, “but they never crossed.”

Irial popped a blackberry in her mouth. “You are going to have to explain that to me,” she said.

“He was out of control. I didn’t dare block his strikes, and there was no way to fight back. All I could do was run and dodge the attacks.”

“Dodge some of the attacks,” she corrected, looking critically at his injuries.

“He was trying to kill me,” Edryd said. He had no doubt this was the truth.  “He stopped just short of doing so.”

Irial placed a couple of fingers on his neck, tracing over the paste-smeared line of the cut. “Maybe you did fight back,” she said. “Sigil knights were said to be able to create spiritual armor. Maybe something like that stopped Seoras, and saved you.”

Edryd thought of what he had discovered only moments before, the warping of the dark that surrounded him, but that was more a cloak of concealment than it was a form of physical protection.

“I am no sigil knight,” he said. She hadn’t mentioned anything like this before. Seoras had spoken of Edryd being something that had not been seen in hundreds of years. That reference seemed clear now. It was an unpleasant and suspicious coincidence that Seoras and Irial had both reached and expressed similar conclusions mere hours apart.

“But you were a captain in the Sigil Order,” Irial protested.

“There are no sigil knights in the Sigil Order in Nar Edor,” Edryd insisted. “It is made up of men. I wouldn’t call them ordinary men, but there are among them no masters of spiritual energy, nor any shapers of the dark—just ordinary soldiers.”

Irial was unconvinced. “If what I have heard can be trusted at all, you awakened a sword—your father’s sigil sword.”

Edryd did not like this topic, and he particularly did not like discussing it with Irial. “What happened that day… it left my brother dead. It had never happened before and has not happened since. I have tried for a month now to grasp hold of the dark, and I am no more capable than I was when I started. Seoras is stronger than ever, but I am exactly the same as I was before I got here.”

Irial did not give up. “It isn’t supposed to work that way,” she said. “An apprentice in the Sigil Order drew the strength to manipulate spiritual energy from his master. The relationship did not strengthen the teacher.”

A warning tone crept into Edryd’s reply, an unconscious reaction to his presumption that Irial had failed to appreciate the degree to which this topic troubled him. “This isn’t the Sigil Order, and that distempered wolf, Seoras, is no source of strength. Not to me or to anyone else.” Irial began to respond, but Edryd wasn’t done. “How is it that you suddenly think yourself an expert on all these things?” he demanded.

Edryd was surprised at how harsh his complaint had sounded, but it engendered an unexpected reaction. Irial seemed to be embarrassed, as if she did not want to answer that question. Edryd let it drop and Irial dodged the subject by moving to another topic. “How would you feel about rearranging some of Logaeir’s schemes for you and the Ascomanni?” she asked.

The spontaneous smile on her protector’s face gave her all the answer that she could have needed as Edryd listened carefully while she explained the details of her plan.

Chapter 13

A Captain of the Sigil Corp

C
urrents of smoke drifted in the air above the cottage, drawn not through the stone chimney vent, but through the hole in the center of the thatched roof of the cottage.  Edryd was alarmed. He had never known the fire pit to have been put to use, and he couldn’t imagine Eithne would have built up a fire in it while they were gone. Irial was untroubled, for she knew what it meant.

“He’s here already,” Irial said.

“Who?” Edryd asked.

“Logaeir. He will be inside waiting, and he will have brought others too.”

Edryd did not think there would have been enough time from when Ruach had left last night for him to have made it back to the Ascomanni camp and return with Logaeir, but Edryd had no clear idea as to precisely where the encampment was, so his assumptions could have been wrong. The encampment would have to be closer to the island than he had thought. Even assuming that it was, Edryd wasn’t sure how Irial knew that Logaeir was inside.

“Whenever he comes with a group, he makes use of the fire pit,” Irial explained, answering Edryd’s unspoken question.

Feeling protective towards Irial as he thought about Logaeir, Edryd moved a hand into position near the hilt of the sword at his side. He had made the movement without fully appreciating the depth of the feelings that motivated his response, and in truth, had not noticed that he had even done it. Irial noticed, and was annoyed, thinking that Edryd’s overtly vigilant reaction was disproportionate to any actual threat, but she did not say anything.

“Remember, you have leverage,” she reminded Edryd as they approached the cottage together. “He will have no choice but to agree.”

Entering through the door, they were greeted by the smell of cooked meat. A wild pig, its skin blackened and charred by the heat from the coals of the fire, was roasting in its own fat on a spit in the center of the room. Edryd had walked in full of caution, but he was made eager by the food. Other than fish caught in the ocean waters near An Innis, meat was difficult to procure here, and Edryd had not had the chance to enjoy a feast like this one since before he had first arrived.

Oren and Ruach looked on from the back of the open hall as Edryd stepped forward. Logaeir, seated beside Captain Krin at the end of the table next to the fire pit, was going through a collection of pages which were bound up between white cloth-covered wooden panels. Eithne sat opposite, silently staring with obvious interest at the book in Logaeir’s hands.

“
A Compendium of the History of the Sigil Order
, by Ludin Kar,” Logaeir said without looking up.

Though he had not known its title, Edryd recognized the book, along with the much larger book about the ‘Ossian Oligarchs’ that sat unopened on the table alongside it. A leather bag that had once held both of the books lay discarded on the floor beside Logaeir’s feet.  Surprised, Edryd turned to Irial with an unspoken question, wondering why she had lied. She had told him it had been a book on food preparation. He now understood the source of her sudden expertise on the Sigil Order.

“To think I studied under this fool,” Logaeir laughed.

“That’s unkind of you to say so, Logaeir, considering you would still be nothing more than the backwards and ignorant little boy of no consequence that you once were, if you had not met him,” Irial chided.

“Logaeir might be the size of a little a boy, but I’m not sure I believe that this devil ever was one,” Krin laughed. “And he remains a man of no consequence, though he would have us all believe otherwise.”

The deliberately cavalier attitude that Logaeir had cultivated with so much care fell away for a moment, as he took umbrage at the insults. “I am not ungrateful to him, but this nonsense isn’t scholarship, it’s a work of fiction,” he said, stabbing a finger at the pages of the book.

“A quorum of sigil knights, assembled together, could defeat even the darkness of the night, summoning the light of day to illuminate a battlefield,” Logaeir said, reading from the book. “First of all, is it likely that a pitched battle would be fought in the middle of the night?”

“I can think of several reasons why one might be,” Edryd said.

“It wouldn’t be likely,” Logaeir said, ignoring Edryd’s answer to his question, “but if it were, and the Sigil Knights could summon light, why would they want to? A spiritual warrior who can fight with his eyes closed would have an advantage in the dark. Even if you let that pass, doesn’t it strike anyone else as so much mythical absurdity?”

Oren and Ruach took on serious expressions, looking to Edryd, expecting him to put Logaeir in his place. Edryd, who would have been of a similar opinion as Logaeir not so long ago, didn’t bother to object, even though he had recently seen for himself some of what Logaeir had just now dismissed as ‘mythical absurdity’.

“We have ourselves three sigil knights gathered right here,” Logaeir mocked, “shouldn’t you be glowing?  Or are there not enough of you for a quorum?”

Oren started to stand with a fierce look in his bright eyes, intending to confront Logaeir, but he was held back by Ruach, who stretched out an arm to restrain him. It was their captain’s place to choose how to handle this affront and respond to the disrespect that Logaeir had directed towards them. Edryd’s response was calm and even.

“There are no longer any sigil knights, but Oren and Ruach are trained officers of the Sigil Corps. You have lied to them, and misused my name in persuading them to give you their service. Give any more provocation, and I will not prevent them from seeking retribution against your deceptions. They will not need the aid of spiritual powers to settle things with you.”

The room had gown tense, with everyone watching Logaeir’s reaction to the force of the condemnation so flatly expressed in Edryd’s threat. Everyone except Logaeir, who looked at Edryd approvingly, with no care at all for what anyone else thought of him. Logaeir had sought this reaction, making calculated taunts and verbal attacks, all in order to overcome the other man’s passive predisposition in the hope that it would provoke Edryd to action.

“I have no doubts about your ability to carry that threat through,” Logaeir said. “Either of your officers could take on any five of my men, and do so without wasting much effort. I have seen what they can do firsthand, and as for you… well, I have heard slightly less credible things, secondhand. If even half of it is true…” Logaeir said, letting his words trail off, not bothering to finish the thought. He allowed the others to complete the idea with whatever stood in each person’s imagination.

“Considerably less than half of it is true,” Edryd clarified. He could see that Logaeir appeared to be pleased, and that was reason enough for concern and caution, and a cause for irritation.

“You don’t need to convince me,” said Logaeir. “You are nothing like the stories that are told. It isn’t you that I need, just your reputation. Well, that and your two officers,” Logaeir said, looking towards Oren and Ruach. “They have stopped helping. It’s unacceptable.”

Edryd reminded himself that it would do no good to get angry, but it was a feat of restraint for him to speak calmly. “Against my will, you have made me a leader within the Ascomanni,” Edryd began.

“He has made you a captain,” Krin said, interrupting Edryd in what appeared to be an effort to be helpful. Logaeir gave his friend an angry look. This had not been information that he had wanted Krin to share. Undeterred, and with a mischievous look in his eye that betrayed his motives, which were above anything else focused upon his own immediate amusement, Krin then sought to inspire even more conflict between Edryd and Logaeir. “You are the Captain to be more precise,” he continued. “Logaeir is first under your command. Quite a few of our men are eager to follow the Blood Prince, and some of them are stupid enough to believe that Logaeir represents you. He is commanding a ship under your banners. He calls it the
Retribution
. Several times now, Logaeir has gone so far as to pretend to be the Blood Prince.”

The last part, Krin had said in disbelief, expressing his inability to comprehend anyone accepting Logaeir as a convincing stand in for the Blood Prince. “I have a passing resemblance,” Logaeir said, giving Krin a punishing look. Krin laughed, enjoying his friend’s discomfort.

“I need your officers to help me,” Logaeir said quietly when Krin’s laughter died down. It wasn’t a demand. For once it seemed he was being respectful, having been forced to do so out of necessity, with no choice but to beg for what he needed. In that moment, Logaeir seemed to Edryd more like the man he had first met and talked with alone at the bottom of the cliffside trail. It was a reminder that Logaeir could, in his better moments, be contemplative, polite, and softly persuasive. Not at all like the parody of an unscrupulous man that he played whenever there was an audience.

“As their captain,” Edryd said, “Oren and Ruach follow only my orders.”

“Yes, but what would it take to formalize a temporary arrangement where they will also follow mine?” Logaeir asked. He looked like he was swallowing a bitter potion, but he was clearly ready to negotiate.

“There is nothing to discuss,” Edryd said, rejecting the suggestion out of hand. “I told you they are officers in the Sigil Corps. I cannot ask them to follow the orders of some frivolous criminal with petty dreams of conquering small islands.”

Oren and Ruach straightened their backs in pride. Logaeir’s face darkened, his demeanor approaching the verge of an apoplectic fit. Edryd had never seen the man at a loss for words and was pleased to have affected him so, if only for a short moment. Krin seemed to be enjoying the moment as well, engaged as he was in loud expressions of uncontrolled mirth.

“Well said,” interjected Krin, once he managed to stop laughing. “But they don’t need to take orders from Logaeir. We only need them to provide training for our men, and they can do that under your orders if you prefer. That much at least should be open for negotiation.”

Edryd gained an immediate appreciation for Krin’s unsubtle diplomatic skills. Logaeir frowned openly at his partner. This was not what he wanted, but it might be as much as they could hope to achieve.

“Provided we understood that these are my men, no one else’s, I will consider it,” Edryd said, “but if I am to be a captain in the Ascomanni, I think it is time I had my own crew.”

“No one is giving you a ship,” Logaeir said defiantly. He thought he understood Edryd’s intentions, and he was not going to provide him with the means to flee An Innis. “There are none to spare.”

Krin gave Logaeir a hard look. “Forgetting the
Retribution
, which you have told the rest of the Ascomanni is already his, we have at least a dozen unmanned ships, anchored in inlets near the encampment,” he said, contradicting Logaeir. “I’ll give him one of mine if that is what it takes.”

“And will you give him some of your men as well to sail the ship?” Logaeir challenged.

Krin looked uncertain as he considered that prospect. “That is going to be a problem,” Krin admitted. “Plenty would be willing to follow the Blood Prince, but it isn’t going to sit well with the other captains if he siphons away the best of their men.”

“I don’t need a ship, and I don’t need any of the Ascomanni,” Edryd said, dodging the entire issue.

The conversation stopped as the participants reacted with confusion, everyone except for Edryd and Irial who had carefully planned this ahead of time.

“Are you going to call up a phantom crew to operate a phantom ship?” Logaeir demanded, tired of waiting for an explanation.

“I was thinking more along the line of fresh recruits,” Edryd said. “I will need you to transport Oren and Ruach back to Nar Edor.”

“You don’t just sail into the Citadel Harbor,” said Logaeir dismissing the request. “It is closed to everything but approved Ossian merchant vessels.”

“Once there,” Edryd continued, ignoring Logaeir completely, “they will choose a dozen or so volunteers from amongst the soldiers of the Sigil Corps. Under my command, those men will aid the Ascomanni.”

“It wouldn’t take but a couple of days,” said Oren, completely transparent in his enthusiasm.

“I know of eight who would go immediately,” Ruach agreed, thinking of the remaining men under Edryd’s old command.

“They will be my crew,” Edryd finished.

Logaeir looked like he was choking on something.

“We could get an escort from Aelsian’s fleet,” Krin said, countering Logaeir’s earlier argument regarding the impossibility of entering the Citadel Harbor. “It won’t be any trouble getting into the port.”

Logaeir was once again speechless. He didn’t seem to be breathing and his face was turning a darkened shade of red. With the flat of his broad fully-spread palm, Krin gave Logaeir a short powerful thump on the back, forcing out a gasp of held air from the smaller man’s lungs.

“Barely different from what you spoke of when you convinced me to go and recruit the Blood Prince in the first place,” Krin pointed out. “Are you going to tell me this isn’t exactly what you wanted?”

“When someone, who doesn’t hold you in any high regard, grants all of your wishes, leveraging them upon you as though they were demanded concessions, you get suspicious,” Logaeir explained.

Edryd understood the hesitation, and he knew that the Ascomanni strategist’s concerns went deeper than mere suspicion. Logaeir was getting more than he had dared to ask for, but imagining Edryd as a captain in the Ascomanni with a company of Sigil Corps solders under his command, gave him reasons to fear that this might all come at the cost of his control over the Ascomanni. Beyond this, he had to also be wondering what had motivated Edryd’s sudden willingness to cooperate.