The Old Ways (5 page)

“I will.”

He kissed her forehead, then continued on toward the forest.

“A fan?” Darius asked, eliciting a chuckle from Jerico.

“A spider bite nearly killed her. I saved her life, but still had to take her arm. She’s Kaide’s daughter.”

“That makes a bit more sense. I’d be interested to meet this Kaide. How does he compare to his rumors?”

“He doesn’t care for honor, has no qualms about killing, and is driven by revenge. But he’s not a cannibal, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Darius smirked.

“Well...I guess there’s that. How far a walk is it?”

“Better part of a day.”

The other paladin sighed.

“We should have asked for food before we left.”

Despite Kalgan’s obvious impatience, Jerico rubbed his eyes and sighed as well.

“Yeah...”

T
hey slept at the forest’s edge, eating a few berries they found as well as some roots that Darius was certain were the most bitter thing he’d ever tasted. They built a large fire, Jerico hoping the smoke might alert one of Kaide’s gang of their approach, but come morning, there was no one. Jerico tried assuring Darius it would be no problem, and with their things packed, they trudged into the forest. There appeared to be no path, though a couple of strangely cut branches might have been a marking.

“You do know where you’re going, right?” he asked Jerico.

“More or less.”

Hardly the confidence Darius was hoping for.

“’More or less’?” he asked as they pressed through the rough thicket. “Jerico, what does ‘more or less’ mean?”

“I’ve been this way a couple of times. I’m fairly certain I can find it.”

Darius winced.

“And if you can’t?”

“Kaide’s men will find us,” Jerico said, grinning at him.

“Find our starved corpses, you mean,” Darius muttered.

They walked for an hour, at a fairly slow pace, as Jerico kept checking the surroundings. What his friend was looking for, he didn’t have a clue. At last they stumbled upon a stream, which Jerico insisted was a great sign. They stopped to rest. Darius yanked off his armor and dipped his head into the wonderfully cold water.

“What I’d give for a mule or something to carry my armor instead,” he said.

“Not much of a luxury either of us can afford. I’d sleep in it if it were at all comfortable.”

Darius grinned at him as water dripped down his face and hair.

“That worried about daggers in the night? If you’re asleep, wearing armor matters little when the assassin stabs you through the eye.”

Jerico chuckled, then turned his attention to Darius’s armor. He nodded toward the chestplate.

“You should do something about that,” he said.

Darius followed his gaze and saw the lion painted across the chest.

“Would you have me paint a golden mountain there instead?” he asked.

“Honestly? Yes.”

Darius shifted uncomfortably, and he ducked his head back into the river to stall. As the cold seeped into his pores, he tried to think. In Jerico, he’d seen something he knew he wanted, a hope for a dark world far more sacred and meaningful than the fire and order Karak promised. But he still felt uncomfortable calling himself a servant of Ashhur. Ever since his childhood he’d been a warrior for Karak. It was hard not to consider himself a traitor, no matter how terrible some of Karak’s servants had been, or what Karak had shown in blessing him for the killing of innocents because they worshipped Ashhur, the enemy. And now he was sworn to that enemy. According to his teachings in the Stronghold, he was doomed to an eternity of torment. Was that still true? Or would he escape to the Golden Eternity?

Pulling his head free from the cold water, he gasped in air. While wiping at his eyes, he inspecting his armor. Jerico had a point. He looked so much darker, so much more dangerous than Jerico when they stood side by side. There was little he could do about the color, which was stained into the armor during its crafting. The symbol of the lion, though, he could remove with enough diligence and the scraping of a knife. No matter how hesitant he might be to publicly announce his worship of Ashhur, he was certain he wanted to claim no allegiance to Karak.

“Give me time, and I’ll get it off,” he told Jerico. “Might make it a bit easier to go unnoticed without it, too. Robert’s looking for Darius of the Stronghold, not the Citadel.”

At the mention of the Citadel, Jerico’s mood darkened.

“Forgive me,” Darius said. “I’m sure such a loss will take a long time to heal.”

Jerico nodded, then reached for his shield, flinging it across his back.

“I must go back there sometime,” he said. “I must see for myself its ruin. But Arthur needs my help more urgently than I need some shallow confirmation. Are you ready to go? If we follow the stream, I believe I can find their camp.”

“Just let me get dressed. Daggers in the night and all.”

Darius put back on his armor, and for the first time felt uncomfortable with the lion on his chest. To be sure, he touched his greatsword, and saw the faintest of blue light shimmer across its edges. He still believed, at least some small part of him did. He held on to that, and followed Jerico.

Another hour later, Darius felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. Long used to trusting his combat instincts, he looked about, then spotted a man in a distant tree. In his hands the man held a bow, the arrow already nocked and ready to fly.

“Jerico,” he started to say.

“I see him,” Jerico said. “Let’s pray he’s a friend. Hail!”

He waved, while subtly letting his shield shift to his other arm, in case he needed its protection. The man tensed for a moment, then relaxed as he caught sight of the blue glow.

“Jerico!” cried the distant man, shimmying down the tree. He was a far bigger man than Darius expected, and his was face covered with scars.

“How have the past few weeks treated you, Adam?” Jerico asked, clasping the man’s wrist and pumping it up and down.

“Like shit,” Adam said. “Was hoping to be stomping Sebastian’s ass all the way from here to Mordeina. Instead we’re stuck waiting.”

Jerico nodded to the weapon slung across his shoulder.

“I didn’t know you could use a bow.”

“Gotta hunt to eat, don’t you?”

Darius thought of their meager meals the past few days.

“Not necessarily,” he said. This brought the big man’s attention over to him.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked.

“Darius,” he said, offering a mock bow. “Consider me flattered to finally meet one of Kaide’s most infamous knights.”

Adam paused a moment, as if still thinking over the words, then his face spread into a giant grin.

“Funny man,” he said, punching Darius in the shoulder, despite his armor. “But if you’re half as good as Jerico, and willing to fight, we’ll treat you fine as any prince.”

Darius raised an eyebrow at Jerico, who only shrugged.

“Better than being chased out by people eager for a bounty, right?”

“If you say so.”

“Come on,” said Adam. “Follow me. Kaide’ll want to know you made it out of the Green Gulch alive and breathing.”

The paladins let him lead the way away from the stream and into Kaide’s camp. Darius was surprised by the amount of buildings, all built of wood and straw. He’d expected a few tents, maybe a single home, but not this. More surprising was how many wandered about, working at various tasks. Nearly everyone stopped what they were doing as Adam led the newcomers to the camp’s center. Darius could hardly believe the hero’s welcome they received. Even Durham had not been so thankful after they’d protected them from the wolf-men’s attack.

“Where’s Kaide?” Adam roared as the people began to crowd them.

“Out back, training,” said one of the men.

Darius could only guess where ‘out back’ meant, but Adam seemed to know. They followed, curling around one of the buildings to a large open stretch between the trees. Twenty or so men stood in a line, old metal swords in their hands. A man walked before them, barking out orders while making slow motions in the air with his dirk. He was lithe, well fit, with his prematurely gray hair bound into a ponytail. He moved with such authority, Darius knew immediately that he had to be Kaide. His eyes carried such an intensity, it left him with little wonder how the man had managed to raise an army against Lord Sebastian, however ill-equipped and meager it was.

“Jerico,” he said, sheathing his dirk. He wiped his hands on his tunic, and, unlike the others, he seemed only mildly surprised that the paladin had returned. “So you survived after all.”

“There any doubt?” Jerico asked, and he smiled as the two embraced. “It’ll take far more than a couple thousand soldiers to bring me down.”

A half-hearted cheer came from the men training. Kaide turned on them, whatever joy had been present in his composure immediately gone.

“Back to training, all of you,” he said. “Pat, you lead until I get back.”

Kaide thanked Adam for escorting them to the camp, then sent him back to his hunt.

“Takes a lot of food to feed so many,” Kaide said as he headed to his quarters with the two of them in tow. “Thankfully the deer here are plentiful, and even in winter we can usually capture a few squirrels.”

“Venison sounds wonderful,” Jerico said as they stepped inside the small log cabin, and Darius heartily agreed. Once the door shut behind them, Kaide turned and swung. His fist crunched into Jerico’s jaw, the blow knocking him a step backward so that he thudded against the door. Instead of retaliating, Jerico stood there, mouth agape, and rubbed his face.

“When you tell me to flee, you don’t stand there and keep on fighting yourself,” Kaide said, jamming a finger in Jerico’s face. “We fight together, you and I. If you’re going to hold a line until death, then I stay at your side, and if I retreat, then your ass follows. Whatever miracle allowed you to survive, I don’t want to have to rely on it again. You’re the heart of this band now, the one thing that gives them hope, and your stand at the Green Gulch only solidified that. Do we understand each other?”

“You going to hit me again if I say no?”

The tension continued for a few more seconds, and then Kaide broke out into a laugh.

“No, but Sandra might. She missed you. We all have.” He turned his attention to Darius. “I see you brought a friend.”

“My name is Darius,” he said, bowing. “Jerico saved my life, and I seek to return the favor.”

At hearing the name, Kaide froze, and his eyes seemed to sparkle.

“Darius,” he said. “As in Darius of the Stronghold, from Durham?”

Darius swallowed, and he tried not to show any emotion.

“Yes. Will that be a problem?”

“A problem? Depends. Who’d you piss off to get that bounty on your head?”

Darius thought it might be prudent to lie, but he immediately felt ashamed for even entertaining the notion.

“I was once of the Stronghold, but no longer,” he said, standing up straighter so his full height towered over Kaide. “Karak’s followers have never taken kindly to one who leaves the fold.”

“That’s strange,” Kaide said, rubbing his chin. “Report I heard said the bounty came from Sir Robert at the towers.”

“I was there when one of Karak’s greatest priests burned it to the ground. I’m sure the blame has been cast upon me.”

“Enough,” Jerico said, standing between them. “We’ve come back to help, in whatever way we can.”

Kaide shifted his attention to his friend, but Darius felt no comfort. It lingered in the air, that unspoken challenge, the question of his guilt, his role in Durham. No doubt Jerico saw the strong leader that Kaide was, but Darius also saw in him a greed and a hunger that set his nerves on edge. He saw a man with a cause, yet no ideals. The whole world might burn while Kaide waged his war on Lord Sebastian, and it wouldn’t matter, so long as in the end he found victory.

“We don’t have enough men, not yet,” said Kaide. “But soon, we’ll move out. We’ll starve Sebastian’s army of supplies, hit their caravans, set fires when they sleep. Anything to make their lives miserable. With each passing day, my men scour the North, telling tales of Sebastian’s depravity. We’ll build another rebellion, one that won’t be stamped out after a single battle. But we can talk about those details later, once Bellok comes back with more supplies. For now, let’s get you something to eat, and find you a room.”