The Awakened Book Two (16 page)

Both Kael’s horse and the barbarian’s had kept their distance from the fighting, but hadn’t run off. Kael left the body and stumbled over to the Syvak’s shield. The sword was still embedded in the splintered wood. Kael reached down and wrenched it free, inspecting the damage. The metal of the blade had flaked off in several places, the edges curled back to reveal a dark, glass-like material. It looked like a child’s replica, covered in metal to make it look more authentic.

Strange.
It was unfortunate that he had resorted to using the gift in such a way, but he would have it repaired at the soonest opportunity. He gathered the original wrappings for the sword and placed it back into its wooden container, securing it with a leather strap.

Surveying his surroundings, he could see evidence of their struggle everywhere—footprints, discarded weapons, and even splatters of blood on the sand. He walked to the Syvak’s body and stood over it, marveling at the strength and skill of this foe. Fighting was usually simple for Kael, and rarely did his opponents present a challenge.
But this one…he was a worthy adversary!
The barbarian’s body was sprawled on his back, with his head twisted and facing down toward the sand. Kael bent down and grabbed the head by the hair and rotated the face into a more natural position. The flowing water had rinsed the blood and dirt from the skin and left the face pale, but clean.

Kael allowed his gaze to linger for a moment before standing up. Then suddenly, he felt a pang of recognition.

Bending down, he lifted the man’s right hand and pulled back the leather shirt sleeve. Scanning the skin of his forearm, he found confirmation of what he feared. There on the skin was a two-inch scar running parallel with the protrusion of muscle. Kael dropped the dead arm and stood, feeling sickened.

Narian!

Images flashed through Kael’s mind, memories from his time at the monastery. He could see Narian dueling with Ukiru and losing his temper. The mentor taught the student a quick lesson in the danger of a bladed weapon. The wound healed quickly but left a scar and served as a reminder to all the students that their instructor was not to be confronted in anger. So many of their lessons revolved around controlling one’s emotions. But Kael couldn’t control the emotions rising in him now. He wished he could confront his old mentor and fight to the death. Even if he didn’t prevail, Kael wanted the chance for revenge.

* * * *

Dacien, though exhausted from the fight, never stopped until the battlefield was rid of the bodies of the enemy. These were thrown on a fire and not given the earthen burial that his soldiers received. By midmorning, the majority of the fields were cleared and Dacien began to worry about his friend. Kael had chased after the barbarian leader hours ago, and hadn’t yet returned. He feared the worst and so kept working to rid his mind of the pointless questions plaguing him.

By midday, Dacien had resolved to ride north with a search party the following day to find Kael’s body and give him a proper burial. But then, a murmur rose within the crowd of soldiers and
Leoran
citizens working around the lake shore. The murmur slowly rose to cheering and Dacien stopped to see what was happening.

Relief washed over him when he looked north and saw his friend atop a trotting horse at the edge of the forest. Though he had only just met Kael a few months ago, he felt a strange kinship with him. Dacien had lost a few soldiers this day, but the possibility of losing Kael saddened him greatly.

As these thoughts crossed his mind, he noticed a second horse being led behind Kael’s. As Kael reached the shores of Lake
Leoran
and could be seen clearly, Dacien could see he held a spear upright with something large on the end. It was several minutes before Dacien realized that it was the barbarian’s head. The crowd cheered with a riotous noise, but Kael didn’t react. He simply rode forward, leading the Syvak’s enormous horse, and behind it, a makeshift litter carrying the warlord’s body.

Dacien rushed to his friend, calling for the crowd to give him some room.

Blood poured from a gash in Kael’s leg. His nose was clearly broken and his face stained with blood, turning purple and beginning to swell.

Dacien instantly felt compassion and pride for his friend. The beheading was hard to stomach though and was not a practice of the Orud Empire, one of the things separating them from other barbaric nations. But it seemed to be effective as Dacien could tell that it earned Kael a mixture of fear and reverence from the
Leoran
soldiers. The citizens seemed more appalled than anything.

Grabbing the reins of Kael’s horse, Dacien looked up and made eye contact with his friend, who only stared blankly in return, as though he were looking through Dacien. Kael didn’t seem like the kind of person to be bothered by intense warfare, but it was clear that something was deeply wrong.

“You can rest now. Come back inside the city,” was all he could think to say.

Chapter 11

The weeks passed quickly for Maeryn as she carried out her plans on the island of
Tur’cen
. Just as anticipated, Thaddius and the other two thirds of the freed slaves were dead when Maeryn arrived. It was a horrific sight, made worse by the fact that the bodies had to be moved away from the encampment and buried. Maeryn did her best to organize the remaining members, now only one hundred and fifty, into groups for providing food, water and shelter. After the many weeks of traveling, the group had become quite efficient in providing for itself. Maeryn was relieved that they had become self-reliant and didn’t require much in the way of leadership. But despite this, they still looked at her with great admiration, though she didn’t know why. Her only conclusion was that they were counting on her to deliver them, and she was committed to doing just that.

Following three grueling weeks of labor, Maeryn left Aelia and the group and set sail for
Orud
. She took with her two older men, experienced in sailing and fishing in the bay of
Bastul
. The air had grown cold and winter was fast approaching. Though it wasn’t smart to sail during this time of year, or to travel in general, everyone knew the gravity of their situation. After discarding all the original supplies at the outpost, they were too far behind to store up enough food for the winter. Aelia was in tears when Maeryn left, but it was understood that if Maeryn wasn’t successful in her quest, none would survive the winter. She gave them specific instructions to be diligent in their foraging and fishing, and to gather wood to keep the fires burning. This was not a time to relax, but a time to survive.

And after a heartfelt goodbye, Maeryn left for
Orud
in one of their small sailing vessels to make the arrangements that Thaddius spoke of. She hadn’t a clue how to make contact, but remembered what Thaddius had said about the Resistance headquarters being in the temple of Equitus. She knew nothing of the protocols for making contact, but there were no other options.

After enduring two weeks of freezing nights and eating only what could be caught on the way, Maeryn arrived in
Orud
. At once, she encountered feelings of relief and fear. The presence of a bustling city excited her after living on the run for the past months. At the same time, she was a fugitive hoping to make contact with an underground movement working against the Empire, and for this reason she carried a secret that could cost her her life. In spite of this, Maeryn tried her best to stroll with confidence down the streets of the city with her two slaves following loyally behind her as they were expected to. She knew that they wouldn’t pass careful social examination as they were dirty from their travels and not presentable to the general public. But she hoped to blend in and keep from being noticed.

Without so much as a warm meal, Maeryn asked directions to the temple and walked straight to it. The afternoon sun was warm on her skin and the white stone of the temple walls reflected intensely. There were no people outside the temple which made her feel even more nervous. Her stomach growled, followed by an intense wave of hunger, but she swallowed hard and marched up the steps. Her companions waited outside as they weren’t allowed in places of worship.

Once inside, the intense sunlight gave way to a soft glow coming from colored glass in the ceiling. The interior was circular with a giant statue of Equitus in the center. She was reclining on a rock, bare-breasted, holding scales in one hand, the other outstretched with her palm upward, as if to suggest that she would accept the petitions of those seeking justice and equality. The temple was almost empty, except for a man on his knees at the opposite end, and a small group to Maeryn’s left.

She looked around the room to see if there were any clues as to how she should proceed, but there was nothing. After circling the building and examining the walls and all sides of the statue, Maeryn found herself back at the entrance. She received only a few curious stares from the worshipers, but otherwise was ignored.

“I have a message to deliver,” she announced suddenly. Her voice rang out in the quiet marble interior.

The others in the building glanced at her, shocked by the disturbance of their silence. A soft voice from one of the women replied. “The Lady will hear your petitions.”

“No. I want to speak with someone.”

“Sister,” called the man from across the room. “Didn’t I ask you to wait for me?” Rising to his feet, he walked briskly toward Maeryn. “I am sorry, ladies. My sister is not well and doesn’t understand.”

Three of the women just stared in disgust, but one nodded in acknowledgement of his words.

“Sister,” he said, taking Maeryn by the arm and leading her outside. “Please don’t disturb these worshipers…” His words trailed off as soon as they were out of temple. “What do you think you are doing?” he asked in a low whisper. He was clearly enraged. “Who are you?”

“I’m sorry,” Maeryn replied. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“WHO ARE YOU?” he asked, his voice rising as he eyed the slaves suspiciously.

Maeryn wasn’t sure if she was speaking to the right person, but decided to risk everything. She didn’t know how else to proceed. “Thaddius is dead. All of his men are dead.”

The man’s expression softened. “Is this some sort of prank? Who do you think I am?”

Maeryn ignored his words and proceeded to explain her situation. “I am Maeryn, the Governess of
Bastul
. I took five hundred slaves and fled from
Bastul
with Thaddius and several soldiers…”

The man quickly put a finger to Maeryn’s lips and glanced over his shoulder. No one was near the temple and they were obviously alone. “Come with me and don’t speak another word until you are instructed.”

Turning quickly, he walked around the building and entered a garden of dense vines through an iron gate. Maeryn looked to her two companions, then followed. Trees lined the perimeter of a low stone wall, just tall enough to offer privacy. The layout, like most others in Orud architecture was circular. Vines all but covered the wall, showing only the occasional patch of white stone. At the center of the garden was a fountain with a smaller statue of Equitus rising from the water.

The man held out his hand, indicating that they should stay and wait for him. He angled over to where the garden intersected with the temple building and disappeared from sight behind the trees. After a few minutes he came back.

“Come with me.”

Again, Maeryn followed with her two companions. Once past the trees, the wall opened into a short and narrow doorway. Their escort stood to the side and beckoned them to enter. Maeryn could see that the vines had been moved away to reveal this secret place. Stooping to fit through the doorway, she was startled by a presence inside to her right. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out a bladed spear and the dull glint of light reflected off armor. Though this should have evoked fear, she was relieved that they were in the right place. The man was obviously a Resistance guard.

After all were inside the crowded space, their escort led them down an unlit passage. Following only the sound of footsteps, Maeryn began to feel trapped. Then slowly the light returned. The footing changed to a descending staircase and the walls opened to reveal a small cavern. Everywhere she looked, Maeryn saw ancient symbols chiseled into the stone, looking menacing in the flickering torchlight. She wondered if they had any significance to the Resistance, or if they had merely adopted this place as their home.

“Please wait here,” the man said and disappeared through another doorway.

Maeryn waited patiently, trying to think of what she would say. The minutes passed slowly and she found herself thinking of the two men who had accompanied her on this trip. They were good people; they were all good people. Always willing to work hard without complaining, even when their efforts seemed futile.

They nodded back at her and she realized that she had been staring. “What’s taking so long,” she wondered aloud as she turned her eyes to the symbols on the wall.

“Come with me.”

The voice startled Maeryn. The man didn’t seem to notice and simply turned to walk back through the door behind him. Again, Maeryn followed until they arrived at another cavern, this one larger than the first. Tree roots lined one side of the space, indicating that they were either near the surface, or the trees were very large. A small stream flowed through the center of the room only to disappear into a hole in the wall to Maeryn’s right. Their escort pointed to the other side of the room where there were small, square boulders arranged in a circle.