What Was Forgotten (36 page)

“Xidius, Xidius save me…”

“Xidius,” it said back. “Agran mauz ha theara.” The Ardent raised the bloody sword again. It mimicked a smile as it drew the sword across its neck, and even as the Ardent’s blood poured from the wound and he sank to his knees, it never took its eyes from Osmun.

Osmun backed away, staring at the bodies and the growing pool of blood around them. Only when he backed into the side of a stone building did he turn away. He never wanted anything more than to run as fast as he could.

Chapter 22

They were not far into the forest before the sound of turning wooden wheels started to seem loud enough to summon every soldier from Ten Tower after them. The noise of the chaos from Zayd’s diversion was soon swallowed up by the trees, leaving just the sound of the carriage’s wheels to keep them company.

The horses were stubborn in the dark, too; Zayd hoped they would be moving faster, and he could see their path, clear and plain before him, but the animals were uncertain and hesitant. He had to spur them constantly to keep them from stopping altogether.

“One of your men told me to go to you as he cut the ropes that bound me,” Sera said.

Zayd nodded, keeping his eyes ahead on the path. “Yes. On my orders, your people were freed.”

“He said you had something that belonged to my people. Is this truth or a lie?”

“The truth. I found your artifact.”

Sera sat up, as if suddenly awoken, and looked Zayd in the face, trying to detect a lie. “I hope you haven’t freed me only to play at some game.”

“None at all. I mean to tell you everything. There’s no point now that we should lie to each other. We’ve needed each other since we fled the column…… when my men freed you the first time.”

“And now they’ve done so again,” Sera said flatly, and she looked away. She could not have been looking at anything; she was hanging her head in shame. “It is odd that I feel regret for harming those who have done so much harm to me.”

“I understand now how much we need each other. If I had realized it sooner… well, things might be different, I think. Only the Beac… only the
gods
know for certain.”

“So, tell me how we need each other now. Tell me why I am with you, one who must now be considered as much a traitor as the one who was beheaded yesterday. But, tell me first that you have the Raan Dura.”

“I have it, and I have no intention of keeping it. I want nothing from it. It is beautiful, and perhaps worth a fortune to some, but for it I only ask two things from you.”

“Name them.”

Zayd motioned to the monolith. “The fort commander thought that this was already gone, taken to Lycernum by boat. I hid it, and they took a different carriage. I knew that Walrend would tell them not to inspect what they were taking. He would not risk having it taken again by greedy opportunistic sailors. Only when it reaches the capital will they know that they do not have what they thought they did, and by then, my kin and I should be far enough removed to be of suspicion.”

“Suspicion? What about what happened with us? You freed prisoners. Enemies of your god. I am not familiar with your laws, but is this not considered a crime?”

“We made it appear that the fort was being attacked by other Dramandi. My kin will tell the commander that Dramandi slipped into the fort and freed you.”

“And what of you?” Sera asked.

“Right now, I am tracking you.” Zayd smiled. “But, sadly, I will return to the fort after I lose your trail.”

Sera was silent for a moment before she shook her head. “I’m not sure if you have too much confidence or too little sense, though I’m grateful, whatever the answer is.” She looked to the back of the carriage. “What are you doing with…” Zayd could see that she was staring not directly at the monolith, but looking at something near it.

“Are they near?” Zayd asked.

“They’re always close to it.”

“Then we won’t have much time. They’ve influenced soldiers at the fort… I don’t know why they haven’t done the same to you or I, but if they do… this will have been for nothing.”

“They corrupt the easily corruptible,” Sera said.

“So they cannot do the same to us?”

“They might, just not as easily. But they seem disinterested in you.”

“They keep talking to me, asking me,
telling
me that I’m their servant… I don’t understand, but I would not say they are disinterested.”

“Perhaps not. You will need to tell me what we don’t have much time to do, then.”

“Yes. First, we’re going to bury it. I need your help making a proper grave.”

“This is not a small task,” Sera said. “Just two people digging for this?”

“Is it impossible?” Zayd asked.

“What? No, I suppose not, but –”

“Then we will find a way.” He looked at her, telling her that her objections were understood, but a hindrance.

“What after?” she asked.

“You’re going to take your artifact and find a way back to your people. You will try to do as I have asked, to have them stop fighting.” Zayd could see she was about to speak, but he held up a hand. “I have been exactly where you are now. You have to believe what I say.
This
is better than nothing. It’s better than death. I do miss Tauth the way it was before we became a part of the Empire.” He paused before looking at Sera. “Many of my kin wanted to do what you want: to fight on and die, never to know surrender. But they were young men, full of rage and ideals that screamed louder than the undignified truth. They were full of romantic notions that their heroism would be remembered. They did not realize that, if anyone were to remember our own heroes, it would be
us.
Not them.

“And we do remember. When I return home, we will honour our dead. Perhaps not in the way we used to, but in a new way. I’m sure you have many heroes, many brave dead. Many more than we. It would be a tragedy for their pain and heartbreak and bloodshed to be as though it never was. No one will remember your heroes. Once the soldiers that fought here get old and die, it will be as though all the centuries your people spent striving will not have happened. People will look upon this land, and they may think,
there used to be something here
, but that is where it will end. Do not let it be so, Sera. Even a fragment can bear the heart of the whole.”

They rode for an indeterminable time with only the sound of the carriage wheels and the creaking of its wood intruding upon the perfect silence of the night.

“Stop,” Sera finally said. Zayd almost did not hear her. “Stop here.” Zayd pulled back on the reins. He could see nothing nearby that was of concern. Only a break in the canopy of the trees. The light of the moon and stars was bathing the forest floor and the trees surrounding it in a peaceful white-blue aura. Sera jumped down from the carriage and made her way to the clearing, looking up to the sky. She stood there amid the soft glow and turned slowly, always looking up, before she returned to Zayd.

“North,” she said. “Veer north.”

“What is it?”

“There is a gorge. Deep, fast-moving water. We won’t need to bury this cursed thing. We can drown it.”

It was close to dawn by the time Walrend could take a full account of the damage done to the fort. One of the storehouses had been utterly destroyed after the fire had spread to it from the weapon master’s workshop. One watchtower had been moderately damaged, enough to warrant repairs before being put to use again, and another had been burned beyond any notion of salvation. Sections of the walls were blackened but, according to his men, still structurally sound.

“Small blessings,” Walrend muttered to himself as he walked with a giant’s strides back to his quarters. The Tauthri sentry named Daruthin was there waiting for him, standing at attention. The slim warrior saluted. Walrend waved a hand, dismissing it.

“Tell me again, every detail,” Walrend said as he retrieved the manifest of the recent supply shipment. He needed to take account of what had been lost. He needed to determine if their food supplies would hold them until their next shipment, or if he needed to have it rationed. He needed to know.

Daruthin cleared his throat. “We didn’t see their approach, and were not aware they were there until the fires had already started. Only then did they emerge from the cover of the forest.”

“And they got inside our walls and opened the gate without any of you noticing? How is that so? So far we have not found any breaches in the walls or tunnels dug underneath. Therefore they must have climbed the walls.
Climbed
up the walls, and not one of you noticed.”

Daruthin hung his head.

“And they located and freed our prisoners with what appears to me to be remarkable efficiency,” Walrend said. “How did they know where the prisoners were being held, I wonder?”

“There was a seer among the prisoners,” Daruthin said. “Zayd had often suspected her of trying to summon the aid of their dark gods.” He looked down at his feet and fought the nervous urge to shift his weight. Walrend’s questions made the Tauthri wonder if the commander suspected them or if he was merely accusing the decorated Tauthri sentries of incompetence.

Walrend rubbed his hand on the stubble on his cheek. “I don’t understand how they could have done it,” he said, still staring at the manifest on the table in front of him. “Why did no one go with Zayd?” The commander looked up at Daruthin. His eyes narrowed. “One of you must have thought that him going after the Dramandi alone was too dangerous.”

“Yes, sir. We would have, but he ordered us to remain in the fort so we could help quell the fires.”

“That was foolish. How does he expect to track them without being detected? This is unfamiliar terrain to him. To all Ryferians.” Walrend shook his head. “Pointless.”

“Sir?”

“Pointless for him to follow.” The commander scowled. “How many of them did you see in the fort?”

“I can’t say, sir. When we saw them, the captives were freed and they were all running for the north gate. It was hard to distinguish soldier from prisoner.”

The commander placed his hands flat on the table and slowly leaned forward. “Then
guess
,” he said quietly. “Was it a hundred? A thousand?”

“No, sir, it –”

“Then give me a
damned number!
” he shouted. Daruthin nearly took a step back.

“Perhaps no more than twenty… aside from the prisoners.”

“Very good. You’re dismissed. Gather the other Tauthri and report to Hame… or Boamanth.” Walrend slammed the ledger book closed in frustration. “Whichever officer is in charge of the repairs.”

“Boamanth, sir.”

“Then go see him!
Dismissed!
”

The Tauthri sentry left, and Walrend sat down and rested his head in his hands. How had this happened? His men were supposed to be disciplined. They were supposed to be elite. “The Tauthri are not
your
men,” he whispered to himself. Regardless, it was an embarrassment, and something had to be done. He needed a victory in the wake of this defeat.

A large figure loomed in his doorway.

“Commander.” Barrett Stern had donned heavy hide instead of his full plate armour, but was just as imposing a sight.

“Exalt Stern.” Walrend saluted, and Barrett returned it without enthusiasm. “You seem already possessed by some task.”

The knight stepped into the room. The wooden floorboards creaked under his weight. “Yes, commander. To find the Dramandi and regain our prisoners… or put them to the sword.”

“Zayd Cothar is gone. His men tell me he was on their heels as they ran.”

“I’ve heard as much myself. But we need more than the eyes of one Tauthri.”

“One sword, even yours, seems inadequate.”

Barrett nodded. “I will need men to follow me. Perhaps ten.”

Walrend stood. “Take twenty. Barthel Baudrus’ detachment is the most experienced. Take them. And take the bloody En Kazyr as well.” The commander thought he saw the knight grin.

“Thank you, commander,” Barrett said, and he turned and left.

First Sergeant Baudrus had his detachment of twenty men armed, armoured and ready and the north gate within minutes of Stern giving the order. Talazz, meanwhile, was carrying three large timber planks, each one twice his own height, over his shoulders.

“Damage done to the wall is worse than they thought,” Talazz said to Stern.

“Finish, then. But find us immediately after,” Barrett said. The giant nodded, and he shifted the wood laden on his shoulders as if he was shrugging off a fly. The knight signalled to Barthel Baudrus, and the group of them marched out of the fort through the north gate in a loose formation. Baudrus was young to be a first sergeant, barely over twenty years old, but as a veteran of several vicious battles earlier in the war, he had already proven himself. More importantly, he instantly won the respect of those who fought with him, not only with his brutal fearlessness, but with his natural aptitude for war. Many said that no one in the Fourth Regiment could deliver a killing blow as quickly or efficiently.