Beyond the Edge of Dawn (16 page)

Truths Revealed

Aphere remained unconscious for the remainder of the night and well into the next day. Her indulgent use of power had left her near death as the others sat helpless. So she lay strapped to her saddle, one step away from being a corpse and even further from the land of the living.

Still, the day passed swiftly. Pirneon pushed them as hard as he dared, and the leagues rolled by. Dusk was fast approaching when he finally called a halt. Kavan went back into scouting mode, for the countryside was unknown to them. The others established a small camp without fire. Pirneon debated the wisdom in this but decided not to take the chance of being carelessly discovered. He asked Barum to clean and dress his wound while Geblin saw to Aphere.

The Knight Marshal eyed her suspiciously. So much had happened so quickly, he felt his world breaking apart. The foundations of what he knew were being challenged by unseen forces far beyond his comprehension. He didn’t know what to do any longer, and it frightened him. His was a life of trial and hardship. Pirneon hadn’t had to work with so many others since the Fall.

He winced when Barum tightened the fresh bandage. The arrow had gone deep. Fortunately, it had missed all of his major organs. The pain, however, was intense, enough that Barum continued watching over him throughout their ride north. Poison was a prominent concern with arrows. Pirneon wouldn’t say, but the Fist were huge proponents of dirty warfare.
What have we done to invoke the ire of these mercenaries? Our enemies must be more powerful than we thought
.

Kavan eventually slipped back into camp and was met by an inquisitive Pirneon.

“Well?”

The younger knight nodded. “They still hunt us but from a distance.”

Neither wanted to discuss Aphere’s warnings or how they’d proven true. Pirneon wasn’t mentally prepared for it.

“Last night frightened them,” he said. “And with good reason. Aphere has shown us something destructive and vile. The Fist will not be quick to resume the attack.”

Kavan sat down and rubbed his right thigh. “Pirneon, who are the Fist exactly? Why do they hunt us?”

Pirneon remained silent in his thoughts a moment longer. “The Fist are mercenaries. Men without beliefs or honor. Homeless vagabonds who abandoned their peoples. Malweir has no need of their kind.”

“Are they evil?”

“Doubtful. I don’t think they worry about good or evil. They’re assassins for the highest bidder. Believe it or not, some of our own kind took off to join their ranks after the Fall. It is odd, because seldom have they crossed the desert in search of the hunt. The Fist normally work in the east, the lands of Gren and Antheneon. They must be getting paid a king’s ransom to take us on here.”

“Not if there are men of our blood among them,” Kavan countered, the sudden fear of fighting his own people awakened.

Pirneon offered a sad smile. “No. There are no more.”

He left Kavan to guess the meaning. Too many old friends had died on his blade. It was a burden only he bore.

“None of that explains why they hunt us. And now of all times,” Kavan ventured. He ran a hand through his dirty hair. He was tired. Exhausted was more appropriate. Sleep beckoned. One question haunted him more than the others. “What is their strength? In the night, they appeared endless. We would not have survived if not for Aphere.”

Pirneon’s features darkened at her mention. “Five hundred has always been their size. No more, no less.”

“Five hundred?” Kavan said in disbelief. “Pirneon, we cannot fight five hundred men. Not with the four of us.”

“What do you mean four?” Geblin snapped.

They all turned to look at him in surprise. The Gnome stood before them with a scowl, seemingly permanently etched into his flesh, and tapping one foot impatiently.

“Be quiet, Gnome,” Pirneon fired back. “None of us is in a mood to hear your antics.”

“Antics, is it? You think you know so much about the rest of the world. Let me enlighten you for a change,” Geblin was furious, his rage barely contained. “You want to know the truth of why I was in the Ogre cave? Do you? We’d gone there to kill it.”

Eyes widened at the sudden, unexpected admission.

“That’s right. Kill it. The Ogre was responsible for murdering dozens of my kin. So we put together a raiding party and went to put an end to him for good.” Geblin fell silent. Memories of his friends’ last moments plagued him.

Kavan bore a wry grin. Even Barum was impressed.

“This certainly puts matters into a different light. Why the deception?”

Geblin snorted. “What makes you think I could trust any of you? Our races don’t exactly get along. Even in the Spine, we have heard of the murdering Gaimosians. I took no chances and hoped for the right moment to slip away.”

“You’ve had dozens of opportunities to leave,” Kavan said.

Geblin hesitated. “I…I have a debt to repay.”

“To whom?”

“To you, damn it! You saved my life, all of you did. I may not be of the same stature as you famous knights, but my honor is no less. You saved my life, and I’ll not leave until that debt is repaid.”

Pirneon’s gaze softened. “Very admirable, especially considering our current situation. I accept your aid in this quest. Your debt shall be repaid.”

The conversation ended in uneasy silence. Geblin’s secret was a surprise none of them had been expecting. Kavan still wanted to bash his head in for the past but also discovered budding respect. Gnomes were renowned for being thieves, leading Kavan to wonder if more wasn’t being said.

“Geblin, what is your specialty?”

Geblin’s eyes narrowed. He lied, “I was a scout.” He’d just built the foundations of trust, but there was no reason to tell everything. Not yet, at any rate. There were some secrets too dark and uninviting that needed to be kept.

“Perhaps you can help me. We can split the duties. Two sets of eyes are always better than one,” Kavan choked out. It was a stretch for him. There was no love lost between man and Gnome, but at least he was making the attempt. It was all he could do in the situation.

“I’ll think about it,” Geblin replied and turned Aphere. “What’s wrong with her?”

“We don’t know,” Barum said. He’d been quiet throughout the exchange and for good reasons. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Aphere. The longer they shared company the more he found feelings intensifying. She was everything he had ever desired in a partner. But only if… He’d also been suspecting Geblin of hiding important facts and took personal interest in him. The last thing he wanted was to kill the Gnome.

“So much power,” Geblin said and sat beside her prone form. He’d never admit it, but he was fond of her.

Barum hid a smile and went to finish taking care of the horses. Maybe their tiny company had a chance for success after all.

Kavan and Pirneon sat across from each other with guarded poise. Unspoken hostility lay between them. Kavan’s concern for Aphere was equally matched by the growing anxiety over the divide between them. Pirneon was a proud man, unbending. That exaggerated pride threatened to tear the group apart.

Kavan couldn’t stand it any longer. “This must stop, Pirneon.”

Pirneon eyed him dismissively. “I agree. She is becoming a mortal danger to us.”

“Damn it, you! Not her. You know this,” he growled back.

Pirneon shot to his feet. “She’s the problem, Kavan! What she’s becoming is an abomination. Everything she is has the potential to destroy us. No Gaimosian has ever had this taint. None!”

“Why should it be a taint? Why not a gift? After all, she was the one chosen to speak with the oracle. Not you or I. Without Aphere, this quest would already be lost.”

“Lost! How can that be so? Our people have gone through generations in exile, all towards one goal. I’ve spent my life without wavering, always on a clear path. But her, what dark sorcery will she unleash upon us when she finally loses control?”

“She is not a threat. She never has been. We should all be dead. Whatever power she has can save our lives.”

“As well as destroy us,” Pirneon wagged an accusing finger.

Kavan folded his arms across his chest in frustration. “What, then, do you propose? Kill her now, and be done with it? Or should we just abandon her for the wolves? Tell me, oh wise Knight Marshal. What should we do?”

“Of course we don’t kill her! That’s not what I am saying. Aphere is a hazard. To you and to me, Kavan,” Pirneon countered.

“Then leave. This is my quest. It always has been. I was the one who came to you for help and guidance. You’ve given it. Take Barum and go off in search of new, less dangerous adventures.”

Kavan’s words bit deep, but Pirneon stood his ground. Shock registered for the briefest moment. When he spoke, his words were deliberate, precise. “I cannot leave. The oracle said as much. If this quest is to succeed, I must be there at the end.” He turned and began walking away. “Regardless of my personal feelings, I will fulfill my part. No one living or dead can say I quit before the task was complete. Mark my words, though, Kavan: no good will come of this.”

“Like it or not, there is little we can do. It is the way of things to change.” Kavan felt his anger release.

“When this task is complete, she and I will resolve our differences.”

Kavan shook his head. “She’s not the problem.”

“Then I head east.”

“To what end?”

Pirneon smiled darkly. “To find Kistan and see what atrocities he has been teaching his disciples.”

They fell silent. Night came on, and they ate a meager traveler’s meal. Kavan took first watch. That old itch was coming back. He wanted to be alone again. Working with so many others presented unwanted challenges. He’d forgotten all of the insurmountable arrogance associated with teamwork. His feelings for Aphere were strong, though he doubted they signified love. Maybe, deep down where his most private feelings hid, he was worried about her developing powers. Maybe.

There was the slightest chance Pirneon was right. Aphere could be the end of their world. She wasn’t alone. Kistan had recruited several of their kind and was instructing them in similar fashion. If just one of the others was as strong as Aphere, the balance of power in Malweir was threatened. The thought made him cringe. Too many had died for less over the course of history.

Their own history loomed much more prominently. Gaimos had been destroyed because of the same fear Pirneon now possessed. The fear turned to fervor and then riots. Citizens of the surrounding kingdoms begged for salvation against the witch-men of Gaimos. One by one the rulers fell in line with popular support, and a vast army was raised. The war was long, bloody. Tens of thousands died, but the outcome was never in doubt.

Gaimosian borders were steadily pushed back. Outlying villages and farms were burned to the ground. The Gaimosian army made one final, desperate stand on the slopes of Skaag Mountain. The battle raged long and furious. After six days, the remnants of Gaimos broke and fled. The ones who escaped went into exile until a time when it was safe to be seen again. Of Gaimos, nothing remained. Every city, every monument was razed. Pirneon feared a repeat if Aphere managed to lose control.

Kavan gave Aphere another glance and shuddered. Any earlier feelings he might have harbored for her were slowly fading. Love, he now understood, was more fickle than his imagination. He played it off on having been away from quality company for too long. Regardless, he now knew that nothing would come from a relationship with Aphere. Her powers frightened him on deeper levels than love could stretch. She was an admirable woman and he prayed those times etched in Pirneon’s fear weren’t returning. Only the Knight Marshal was old enough to remember the purging, though it was ingrained in every Gaimosian. The past must not be repeated. A touch of sadness reached Kavan’s heart. A man without home or people shouldn’t be subjected to even more torment.

They resumed their trek at dawn, and still there was no sign of the Fist. Kavan wanted to hope they’d given up and gone back to their masters in defeat. Common sense knew better. If the Fist were as persistent as Pirneon claimed, they would never stop. It was an uncomfortable feeling. Death was a constant companion for the children of Gaimos, lurking ever beyond reach. They never knew when the end would strike. Kavan could only hope it wasn’t this day.

His eyes never stopped roving. Ambush spots peppered the surrounding area. He felt ill prepared. Should darkness creep upon them again, he wanted to meet it like the knight he’d been born to become. At midday, he halted and drank deeply from a canteen. The water was tepid and almost brackish tasting. Sweat trickled down his face. The weather was changing. It grew hotter, more humid.

He’d noticed the gradual change in terrain as well. Open grasslands gave way to thicker underbrush. The ground sloped up. Hills now dotted the countryside. Murky haze clung to the ground a short distance away. So near, yet unreachable. Kavan found himself almost wishing for the cold grip of winter. Still, he rode on. At last, he entered the mist and that border between light and dark. Kavan decided to wait for the others to catch up. A foul stench drowned the land. None of them said it, but they knew they had come to the edge of the great swamp.