What Was Forgotten (13 page)

As meager as it was, Sera felt much better having eaten, and though she was still physically exhausted, she felt more alert. It was what she needed to start planning. She could not count on days to come, as this might be the only night they may keep her alive. Perhaps not even the night – perhaps neither she, nor any of her sword-kin, would not see the sun rise. Their centuries-old city had fallen; surely it meant their time, too, was at hand.

She shook her head, dispelling the despair that was creeping into her mind. If she allowed it to take root, she would do just as well to end her life there in the dirt. The Raan Dura was close by – she knew that much at least. Sera breathed deeply, taking the cool evening air into her lungs, and for a moment she felt at peace. With her eyes closed, she found herself suddenly home, surrounded by the comforting familiarities and the tranquility she knew before the start of the war.

Almost effortlessly, she slipped into meditation, and then was submerged in the evernight as if slipping underneath the surface of still waters. Perhaps the spirits of her ancestors would be here, keeping close to the relic. The world around her took on a distant and muted quality and the urgency of her corporeal senses dimmed. And she could feel it: the pulsing heartbeat that reached out to her from somewhere close by. It was the signal that every seer could feel to some degree or another, that which connected them to the gift from their god, the manifestation of Aulvennic in this world.

Yet there was something new that accompanied it which confused Sera, and the more she tried to focus her senses on it, the more chaotic it became. There was an echo, as if the aura of the Raan Dura was reverberating against something. It was then that she saw it: a spirit, obscured by the ethereal reflection of soldiers who walked about. It was far enough that she was unsure at first, but her excitement grew as she became certain. Finally there was a sign that their ancestors had not abandoned them! If they might lend her their blessing, then there was still hope.

There were more. How many, though, she could not say. They did not seem to notice her, so Sera extended her conscience outward towards them. She felt at once as though she had put her fingers into a fire. She withdrew, but they saw her. They were not her ancestors. She was falling back into her body, and they were following her. She could hear their voices, deep, unfathomable, and ancient. A tongue before the world learned to speak.

Sera prayed,
Aulvennic protect me. Ulrodin protect me. What are they?

Everyone seemed on edge as the sun finally set. Zayd could see it on almost every face. After the morning’s attack, there was a new expectation that they would be set upon at any moment. Perhaps it was a beneficial fear for a soldier to possess to keep himself vigilant. Though, to Zayd, this preoccupation appeared to distract most of them from something less keenly dangerous. He knew the aim of the Dramandi attack was not to route the column, or even to kill them. They were after something that was in their possession, or, at the very least, presumed to be.

He did not share this thought with his men, nor did he share this thought with Willar Praene, and not only because he was constantly surrounded by his trusted knights of the Ninth, but mainly because he was confident the Dramandi did not have the strength for another attack, and despite the casualties they had managed to inflict, they had hardly the strength for the first one.

What truly concerned Zayd was where they were marching. He could tell by the stars that they had veered west much moreso than everyone likely thought. He had only glimpsed the map that General Vaetus had recovered, and he had not seen how the path they were on would get them to Fort Vigil on the coast.

The column had stopped next to a rock ridge about forty feet in height. Zayd had swiftly ascended it to take up a spot there for the first half of the watch. A gentle wind carried up the sounds of the men below, their typical exchange of glorious deeds; only half true, and even less glorious. Fragments of words and wine-touched laughs were accompanied by the smells of burning wood and food, which had to be Talazz; only the giant ever had a meal so late.

He could see some of the prisoners tied to separate carts and hoped that they would have quick deaths. They had chosen their fates. Let them have it. Let it be done. He wondered what it must feel like to be among the last of your people, to know that your entire history existed only within your mind…

“I heard you approach,” Zayd said. Tascell sat beside him. “Only in the last few feet, though. Well done. You ought to be resting though. Your watch will come soon enough.”

“I can’t be down there when Talazz is eating. I think one of the supply carts carries just his food.”

“It does.”

“I wonder which the prisoners find more frightful – his greatsword or his appetite.”

“They are equally destructive.” Several moments passed where neither of them spoke. “Why have you come up here?” Zayd asked.

“I need to ask you… I need to
tell
you… I have to go back.”

“Back where?”

“I have to go back for him. I should never have left him like that. It isn’t right. He should be brought home. He deserves that much. So I have to go.”

“You can’t,” Zayd said. “You know what will happen. Don’t put your wife and daughters at risk, Tascell. You’re letting your grief get the best of your reason.”

“I’m not,
vahr
. I don’t think they will notice. How closely are they really watching us? Would they know if one of us was missing? I think most of them would be grateful.”

“And what if they
do
find out? What if Praene discovers that I knew and allowed you to do this? Had you realized you were asking me to risk
my
family in allowing this? You must not have.”

Tascell looked away. “No, I… I’m sorry.”

“Finish this,” Zayd said as he placed a hand on Tascell’s shoulder. “See it to the end, and once it is finished we will go back together. We’ll bring him home.”

They were slow to resume the march the following day. Areagus was almost always the first person out of his tent, aside from the sentries. Praene was not awake until the sun was already whole in the sky. Zayd watched the new commander wander about the camp as it gradually collapsed. Praene shielded his eyes from the morning sun as he walked uncertainly, surveying the slow progress of his men.

Daruthin appeared next to Zayd, carving an apple in half with a stone edge he had probably carved out during his watch. “He was still awake during my watch,” Daruthin said, handing half of his apple to Zayd. “He and a few of the knights of the Ninth. Guffawing. Drunk. No mystery why Vaetus chose Areagus to lead.”

“You’re supposed to be watching the perimeter, not the commander’s tent.”

Daruthin shrugged. “Nothing to watch. Most of the trouble we’ve had so far has come from within the ranks.”

“And what of yesterday morning?” Zayd asked as he took a bite of the apple.

“The exception. It’s not like they were Roh Dun’s Shields. Though they could have been, I guess. How would I know? I never fought them.”

“They weren’t. The Shields are ten thousand strong. How were the prisoners last night?”

“Not a sound. I think the big one learned to behave.”

Zayd glanced over at the tall, muscular Dramandi. Perhaps, Zayd thought. Or he was just waiting. Even with his hands bound and having been beaten bloody the day before, he still looked undaunted.

Daruthin threw the core of his apple on the ground. “Barrett tried to see him last night,” he said softly. “Tried to see Praene in his tent, but Praene wouldn’t see him. I haven’t seen Barrett that full of rage since you spat in his face.”

What did Barrett want to speak to Praene about so desperately?

“Was it about the prisoners?” Zayd asked.

“Doubtful. Barrett doesn’t pay them any mind. I actually saw him order some of the other men to leave the big one alone. Surprised me.”

Daruthin must have been right. Barrett would not care about the prisoners, whether they lived or died; he cared about battle, the
next
battle, when it would come and the glory it would bring. Battle in the name of the Empire.

Just after midday the column came up on rapids. It became clear that Commander Praene had not ordered any of the knights to scout ahead. The column came to a halt as a handful set out on horseback to find a place where they could cross. Many of the men looked frustrated. Praene, however, did not seem to care.

Zayd was resting in the carriage when the call out to halt stirred him. He went down to the rapids to fill his water skin, and he splashed some water on his face to shake off the drowsiness he felt. It was cold and pure, not unlike the waterfall by the old willow tree…

He wondered if this had this had been on the map. Was Praene expecting to come across it and simply neglected to send outriders to scout ahead? Or was it not on the map at all? He wiped the water from his eyes, scooped some more into his hands, and drank. If it was not on the map, how could Praene even know where they were going?

From where he knelt at the rapids, Zayd could see Praene amidst a cluster of knights, talking to them amicably. He doubted that the new commander could read the stars at night like a map as most Tauthri could. He was certain that Areagus would have consulted him had they become lost, and since Areagus and Praene seemed to naturally antagonize one another, Areagus likely kept Praene ignorant to this fact.

He walked down towards the group of knights, and as he neared, the knights seemed to close up around the new commander as if to protect him from some threat, their easy bravado between each other changing instantly to thinly-veiled hostility. Garinus Corwin, the most decorated soldier of the Ninth next to Praene, stepped forward to intercept Zayd.

Garinus was in his mid-thirties but carried himself with the weight of the many battles he had fought. His short brown hair already had signs of grey, and the two-day stubble on his face was nearly white. Compared to Barrett and the other Silver Sun knights, Garinus was a lean fighter, slender but with broad shoulders. “The commander is busy,” Garinus said.

Zayd tilted his head to look past Garinus and saw Praene behind him, still talking to the other knights, but he glanced over his shoulder at him.

“Is that so?” Zayd said. “I’d like to speak with him all the same.”

Garinus looked taken aback. Clearly he had expected Zayd to move along without any objection. He smiled coolly. “I’m not concerned with what you’d like. You don’t get to. So run along,
dark eye
. Make yourself useful. Go clean the horse shit off of the prisoners again.”

He spoke loud enough for the others to hear, and the other knights laughed amongst themselves. Garinus smiled, obviously amused by his own jape.

“He doesn’t look busy,” Zayd said. “Step aside.”

The smile vanished from Garinus’ face.

“Garinus, it’s fine,” Praene called. “It’s fine, I’ll speak with him.”

The knight stepped aside and gestured dramatically for Zayd to walk past. Zayd felt the urge to smile gratefully, but he ignored the knight altogether. Praene was sitting on a large rock and was, of all things, cleaning his armour. With his chest plate off, he looked out of place among his more intimidating subordinates. He instead looked as though he was more suited for priestly duties, not the demanding tasks of regiment command. Zayd knew that Praene was an intelligent man, and equally brave. Yet this was perhaps why he had not been promoted past his present station. Greater leaders like Areagus must not have thought much of him.

Zayd saluted, and Praene returned it dismissively. “What is it?” he asked, disinterested.

“I thought I might offer my assistance to you, commander, in case we run into further difficulty navigating the countryside.”

“Does it seem like we’re having difficulty? Does it seem like
I’m
having difficulty?”

Zayd paused. “Yes.” The other knights tensed visibly. Some exchanged glances. Praene looked up from his task, expressionless for a moment, then he smiled.

“I see that lack of honesty is not a flaw or yours,” he said.

“And a sense of direction is not one of yours, sir. Where exactly are we headed?”

Garinus grabbed Zayd by the back of the neck and his other arm went around his throat. “You arrogant little bastard!”

“Stop!” Praene shouted, rising to his feet. Garinus relaxed his grip, but did not release him. The commander walked over so he was face-to-face with Zayd and spoke quietly so none outside the circle would hear. “I know where we are and where we’re headed. It’s fine if you don’t or anyone else doesn’t know. It only matters that I know. Just keep your mind on your own tasks, is that clear?” The false reassurances sounded all too familiar. It was what he had expected. Zayd nodded.

Praene smiled. “Good. I knew you were a sensible man, if somewhat… forthright. Corwin, let him go. I’m sure he has things to do.” The commander turned around and returned to his seat on the rock and resumed his menial task. Garinus was still watching Zayd intently as he walked away.

Crossing the water delayed them for several hours. After the encounter with Praene, Zayd kept to himself and examined the incident in his head repeatedly. He knew that something was not right, but the way Praene had acted confirmed it. Where he ought to have reprimanded, he instead pacified. It made no sense to him, and he could not escape the feeling of unease even when they made camp that night. He was so distracted that he did not hear Tascell approach to relieve him of his watch, and if the lieutenant noticed anything of Zayd’s absentmindedness, he said nothing.