Beyond the Edge of Dawn (2 page)

Revelations

Mun added another log to the fire and shivered against the growing cold. He wished he’d gone east to the Jebel Desert to wait out the winter. A hundred wishes later, here he was. Grumbling to himself, the old man gathered his patchwork blanket and went back to his desk. His teapot still hadn’t whistled, and that only served to compound his frustrations. Winter hereabouts was cold and cruel, and, even after sixty years, he still hadn’t left for warmer climes. So Mun sat in the constable’s office waiting for something to happen and working for a man ten years his junior. Sometimes life was just cruel like that.

The door opened with a loud boom, causing Mun to startle and jump up. He eyed the newcomer with a wary gaze before sitting back down. “Hadn’t expected to see you again.”

Kavan offered a thinly veiled gaze of contempt. “Sorry to disappoint you, old timer. Where’s Chardis?”

“Constable’s out on his rounds. Just because we’ve had one of you mercenaries wandering about doesn’t make the village safe,” Mun scowled.

He clearly had no issues with his mistrust of Kavan being known. Mun spied the dripping sack in the Gaimosian’s hand and let curiosity get the best of him. Perhaps this was the exciting something he’d been aching for. “Eh, what’s that in the bag making all that mess? You’ll be cleaning it up if you know what’s good for you.”

Kavan bit back a wild laugh. He’d grown accustomed to being treated this way, despite his normal good nature and willingness to help. Gaimosians were feared and reviled the world over ever since the war. “Care to see for yourself? It should make for quite the gossip once I’m gone.”

Mun licked his lips tenderly as temptation reached out. “Constable’ll be back soon. Feel free to sit over there ‘til he does. And you’ll be cleaning up that bloody mess afore you be leaving.”

Kavan sat without saying a word. Mun’s attitude was nothing new. He’d seen it in every little village and hamlet west of the Jebel Desert. Folk around Malweir eyed his kind with strong measure of mistrust. The pride of Gaimos was a scourge across the realm, and there were few old timers who had anything good to say about it. More times than not, Kavan ignored the stares and whispered conversations that went on behind his back.

There was no hiding who he was — what he was. Gaimosian Knights were world renowned as the very best swordsmen and warriors. None could stand against them in single combat. It had taken the combined might of seven kingdoms to defeat and destroy the kingdom of Gaimos. Those few hundred knights who survived the war now roamed Malweir in vain attempts at erasing the signs of their pride. It was thankless work.

The warmth of the fire felt good. He leaned back against the wall and let his eyes drift closed. Seeing the dance of the flames brought back those last few moments of his battle with the werebeast. Three days had gone by, and the memories continued to bother him. He hadn’t been able to come up with any answers to the mounting riddles facing him. Beasts of legend held no human characteristics, or so he’d always been told. Yet the one he’d fought and killed had been more human than not. Foul thoughts nagged at the corner of his consciousness.

His first thoughts were of magic and wizards. But a wizard was rarer than a dragon these days. In fact, there hadn’t been a wizard in western Malweir since the fall of Gaimos, some seventy odd years ago. Not that magic was a rarity. Several species carried the gift. The Elves were said to be the most powerful. Kavan left that to rumor, for he’d never seen an Elf.

The door opening suddenly broke his thoughts. Snow flurries hurried in before the gaunt frame of Constable Chardis. There was a surprised look on the man’s face.

“Well, well,” Chardis said. “Welcome back, lad.”

Any misgivings he might have had about Kavan were wisely kept to himself. Having the knight in his village was a boon to his job and those he’d sworn an oath to protect. Mun grunted disaffectedly from the opposite side of the room.

Kavan grinned at being called a lad. Truth be told, he was already over one hundred years old. The bloodlines of fallen Gaimos were blessed with lifespans up to three times that of a normal man. No one knew why. Perhaps it was one of the things that had led to Gaimos’s eventual demise. Jealousy was a mighty weapon.

“How did your hunt go?” Chardis asked before Mun could remark. He walked straight to the fire where he could warm his frozen hands. His face was weathered and creased with a bright pink tinge.

Kavan rose respectfully. The pain in his ribs was still great and often unbearable. “It was bloody.”

He brought out the werebeast’s head and told them his macabre tale. Both Mun and Chardis listened with rapt attention. Their gazes fell as Kavan briefly detailed the murdered family. Chardis wasn’t pleased by the trail of bodies ranging the fields surrounding his village.

The Constable rubbed his chin, lost in thought. “With all the snow we’ve been getting, those bodies will already be covered up. We won’t be able to dig them out until spring. How many did you say you found?”

“Three along my track. The last was a squire in the middle of the field by the cottage,” Kavan answered. “If I had stopped to bury them, the beast would still be loose.”

“No fault in that,” Mun muttered.

“Are you certain this was a werebeast?” asked Chardis.

Kavan nodded. “Aye, though something about it doesn’t sit right with me. I’ve traveled this world for many years and have never heard of such a creature loose before. Legends say they used to be all over this part of Malweir, but none have been seen or reckoned on in generations.”

Now it was Chardis’ turn to think. “So why now? And why here? We’re a simple people and have little to do with the modern world. There are no riches or prospects for such. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Who can say what makes the heart of evil beat? There’s more, however. A question and a problem have been plaguing me since my battle. I think this was no ordinary werebeast.”

Chardis raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I cannot be certain, but I believe the creature I killed was once a man.”

“Impossible!” Mun sputtered his mouthful of tea onto his lap.

Kavan wanted to agree, but circumstances were already different. His shoulder-length black hair swished softly against his neck as he shook his head. “Nay. For in those horrid eyes, I beheld emotions. It knew pain and fear and had cunning beyond measure. This beast wanted to die. It wanted me to kill it. Some foul purpose claimed that man and perverted him into a nightmare from legend.”

“You speak ill tidings,” Chardis cautioned. “Word of this can’t get out to the people. There will be panic. A witch-hunt will ensue to find who did this. I suggest we leave that problem for another day.” He paused, carefully choosing his next words. “I suspect you’ll want your payment for the head in that bag?”

“And to be shown a tavern where I may get my fill of ale and wenches.”

Chardis smiled. He motioned Mun to open the small safe and handed Kavan a pouch of coins. The knight expertly weighted his palm before tucking the leather pouch away.

“One hundred silvers as agreed,” Chardis told him. “A shame we had to do business in the first place, but I’m glad you finished it. Mun, mind the office. I think I could use a good ale as well.”

Old Mun grumbled under his breath and went to stoke the fire again. He was just glad to be done with the Vengeance Knight. Times were troubling enough without one of them lurking about.

Kavan and Chardis stood beside each other just outside the building. The air was crisp and chill with winter’s kiss. Their breath came out in thin plumes of steam. Spring was only a few weeks away, but this late storm refused to let go. The sky was clear and moonless. Kavan stared up at the purity of the night sky and marveled at the contrast of dark and bright. Thousands of stars winked at him. He was about to comment when the sky suddenly flared to life.

Hundreds of streaking lights slashed across the sky. There were so many, they veiled the stars. More and more thundered down. Kavan’s mouth dropped open. He’d seen the occasional shooting star but never anything of this magnitude. Many cultures saw shooting stars as a foul event and shut the doors and shuttered the windows at the sight of just one. He was never one for superstitions, but his hunt of the werebeast left room for doubt.

Chardis made a quick warding gesture and started to move. “This is not good.”

The meteor shower continued. Neither man spoke again until they were inside the village tavern. Many of those gathered clearly had also borne witness to the celestial event, for the mood was dark, sullen. The gentle crackling of the fire overpowered what sparse conversation there was. Chardis led them to an empty table on the far side of the room.

“What can I get you boys?” a serving maid asked as she walked up with a bright smile. Word of the storm had reached her and sent shivers of fear down her spine, but she was wily enough to capitalize on it.

Kavan smiled back. He stole a glance at her supple form and felt familiar stirrings. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but she was pretty and inspired a great many ideas. “What do you recommend, my dear? My friend and I are thirsty, and I’m paying.”

Her eyes twinkled at the last. “The mulled wine is particularly good, I think. The ale is fine but not as strong as it should be. Don’t tell Harding I said so, Constable. I don’t think he’d appreciate me sabotaging his business, as it were.”

Chardis waved off her concern. “No worries, Tarryl. I think the wine will do. Something to take the chill off is all we need.”

“I’ll be right back,” she smiled and walked away.

“Nice girl,” Kavan remarked.

Chardis shook his head with a rueful glance. “What will you do now?”

Kavan took his time to get his thoughts straight. “I really don’t know. As I stalked the beast, I thought of heading off to another village on another hunt, but the questions in my mind demand answers. I would know where this beast came from.”

“You can’t solve all of Malweir’s problems, my friend,” Chardis advised. “The beast is dead, and our threat has passed. Let it rest and move on to better fortunes.”

“If I could, but it’s not that easy. If there is one of these creatures, there must be others. One man might not be able to solve all of the world’s problems, but he might just make a difference with the right ones.”

The young serving girl, Tarryl, returned carrying two pints of the strong red wine. Her gaze lingered just a while longer on Kavan after he paid her.

“The task you propose may last a lifetime. Are you prepared to spend the rest of your days on the hunt?” Chardis asked him.

Kavan drank deep from his mug before answering. “If I must. Tonight was a sign, Chardis. I feel it in my bones. I must go back on the hunt.”

Both men sat and drank in silence until a shadow fell over them. Kavan looked up first. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at the seemingly drunken man teetering before them. Hand crept towards the hidden dagger at his belt. The drunk spied this and immediately held up his empty hands.

“Speak quick,” Kavan warned, his voice a low, throaty growl.

The drunk did, leaving the Gaimosian in muted shock.

Propositions

“A hunt, you say?” the newcomer asked in wine-laden speech.

Kavan dropped his hand unseen to the hilt of his sword. The man staggered before clumsily finding refuge in an empty chair. No one else in the room bothered to look their way. He nodded once to the Constable before resuming his gaze on the Vengeance Knight. He reeked of manure, and his clothes were filthy. His graying hair was stringy and bore the look of not having been washed in months. Still, Kavan leaned forward.

“Not that it’s any of your business, of course,” he said with measured tone.

The drunk laughed. “Business is business, eh? Was a time I hunted myself.”

Chardis had heard enough. “What are you up to, Therdin? We have enough to think on without your drunken stupor.”

Therdin threw his hands up in defense, or at least tried to. “I’m meaning no harm, Constable. I jus’ couldn’t help but overhear yer conversation. If it’s a hunt you want, I heard tell o’ one down sown. One more massive than any in recent years.”

His eyes never left Kavan. For his part, Kavan didn’t blink.

“You be interested?” Therdin asked.

Kavan leaned back and drank a mighty gulp. “I’m still listening, aren’t I?”

Therdin slapped the table, laughing loudly. “I like you, Knight.”

At the mention of his title, Kavan shifted his gaze over the crowd. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention. “Lower your voice if you wish to speak to me.”

Therdin seemed taken aback, but the moment passed. Tense silence settled over the table. Therdin sat with a smug look, as if knowing what the answer was going to be. Chardis motioned for another round. He was tired and ready to return to his wife and warm bed but something in Therdin’s behavior whispered caution.

“You’re words are twisted,” he said at last. “There’s no hunt going on here.”

Therdin shot him a drunken stare. “No, not here. Word’s come up from Aradain of trouble brewing. Folk say King Eglios is asking for help. Say he’s got a big hunt lined up.”

“What kind of hunt?” Kavan asked.

Therdin smiled. “Ah, so you can do more than just threaten, eh? I heard tell o’ strange creatures and dark magic roundabouts that way.”

“Magic?” Chardis asked.

“Aye. Magic.”

Kavan said, “Magic hasn’t been used in years. Where comes this magic, then?”

Even as he said it, Kavan didn’t believe it. The werebeast was enough to convince him otherwise, though. His thoughts turned to leaving and finding the answers for himself.

“For myself, I cannot say. Though some say the ruins of Gessun Thune have been uncovered.”

The Vengeance Knight suppressed a chill. Gessun Thune was a place of ancient evil from the time of the dawn of the world. Tales of murder on a grand scale still haunted children who misbehaved. No one had ever proven the existence of such a place or bothered speaking of it in public for a long time. Kavan remembered coming across vague references to it at the great library in Greeves.

“Gessun Thune is a legend, and even if it were real no one has seen or heard of it in this lifetime,” he gently rebuked.

“Be that or not ain’t for me to say, but I hear what folks say,” Therdin shot back. “You didn’t think that beastie you killed was one of a kind, did you?”

Both Kavan and Chardis tensed.

“What do you know of the beast?” Kavan asked.

Therdin shrugged off their concern. “Like I said, folks talk. There’s been odd killings going on up and down the Kergland Spine all winter. Nothing natural about half-eaten bodies and busted up homes. Bears and wolves been scarce in these parts in my lifetime. What else coulda killed them folks?”

“I think you’ve had one too many drinks tonight, Therdin. How about I help you home? I’m sure Shella misses you,” Chardis said after passing a nervous glance to Kavan.

“Nonsense, Constable. They ain’t made enough for me to have drunk enough!” he boasted loudly.

Both men were instantly worried that his liberal speech would start a panic, or worse. That was the one thing neither needed. Chardis prided himself on maintaining a sense of peace, and Therdin’s drunken behavior threatened to undo it. Kavan, on the other hand, had no desire for the entire village to know he was Gaimosian. The name inspired harsh repercussions.

He needn’t have worried. Chardis kindly assisted Therdin to his feet and half-forced him outside. Once away from prying ears, the Constable slammed the drunk against the cold wall. “Now you listen to me. I don’t want to hear another word about magic beasts or ancient ruins. People here don’t need that kind of hassle in their lives. Kavan did what I paid him to do. You take yourself home and sleep this off. Tomorrow, we’ll pretend this never happened.”

He slapped Therdin firmly on the shoulder and sent him on his way. Only when he was gone did Chardis exhale his frustrations. He knew as much as the drunk that dark times were astir. The question was what could any of them do to stem the tide and maintain a measure of normalcy? Not wanting to stand in the cold any longer, Chardis collected his empty thoughts and went back inside. Sometimes, answers came rather than being found.

“That was interesting,” Kavan said lightheartedly as Chardis sat.

He agreed, but for other reasons. “The cold makes a man want to keep warm. Ales work just as well in the right circumstance.”

“And it is a cold night.”

They continued making small talk for another hour and three rounds of mulled wine. Both carefully avoided talk of monsters or magic. Tarryl continued flirting with Kavan, and he enjoyed it. Chardis soon excused himself, leaving the Vengeance Knight half-drunk and alone again. Like the majority of his kindred, he preferred it that way. Kavan had come to appreciate those moments of extended silence.

Tonight was one of those moments. Between his attraction to the young serving girl and the effects of some very good wine, he was more than ready to find a soft bed.

Tarryl sauntered up with an easy smile. “Another pint, sir?”

“No,” he smiled back. “I’ve had more than enough drink tonight.”

“Perhaps I could get you something else?” she asked with the slightest hesitation.

Kavan gave her his best impersonation of a gentleman. “Perhaps you could. Tell me, what time do you get off shift?”

Tarryl flushed.

Therdin hustled away from the cold-hearted Gaimosian, hoping to never run in to another one for the rest of his days. There was danger lurking just under Kavan’s skin. Danger that turned blood cold. Therdin had seen it before, though not to such ravaging extent. Best stay away. He’d live much longer.

Stumbling through the village, at least so far as the far edge where he finally felt comfortable enough to abandon his drunken guise, Therdin hurried to his rendezvous point. Old trees lined the one lane road stretching south. Leafless branches twisted like gnarled bones, adding to the illusion of wickedness said to haunt the forest. Therdin knew better but wasn’t one for quick speech. His was a thankless task, one from which there was but minimal reward. So long as the villagers believed ill resided in the forest he was decidedly safe.

He reached the small clearing, no more than a missing tree or two in actuality, and waited. Night continued to deepen and with it the bone numbing cold. Winter had no love for this part of Malweir. Fresh snow covered that from the previous storm. Therdin absently glanced around the semi-darkened area. A slight shiver took him and soon he couldn’t stop. Only when his teeth began clattering together did his contact emerge from the night.

Dressed entirely in thick, black robes and knee high boots, the figure marched up to the villager. His head was hidden beneath a heavy cowl, only his breath coming in frosty plumes suggested he was human and even that was suspicious as far as Therdin was concerned.

“Well? Did he take the bait?” the figure asked with much impatience.

Therdin bobbed his head submissively. “I told him, Master. And he listened good. Not sure if he’s bound for Aradain or not but he was real interested.”

Hands gloved in the finest leather stretched from the ends of his sleeves to clasp and clench. “Pray that he does. I require the Gaimosian to reach Aradain in time or…”

Therdin continued to bob his head, praying his audience ended before a foul thought could take hold.

“Return to the village and follow the Gaimosian. I will contact you once it is determined that he is heading in the proper direction. Do not fail me, Therdin. The Gaimosians have been a plague on existence for too long. It is far past time to finish what our fathers began. I will see their entire bloodline eradicated. Now go, leave me.”

“Yes, Master Corso,” Therdin said before scurrying back to the sleeping village. He didn’t slow until reaching the tavern’s front door.

Alone again, Corso stood watching his servant fade into nothing. His thoughts swirled around impossible scenarios. So many of his kind had been killed his own bloodline was at the point of extinction. All because of the Gaimosians. His hatred towards that warrior breed stretched deep into the past, propelling him down roads few should ever willingly travel.

A time of blood was coming. A time when the very soul of the world would be pierced and his revenge finally obtained. Oh yes, blood would soon run free. Collecting his robes, Corso returned to the night. There was much planning to be done before his victims arrived in Aradain.

Kavan awoke with a groan followed by a long stretch. Days and weeks on the hunt had left his body bruised and beaten. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but it was time to be moving. He looked fondly over his shoulder at the sleeping Tarryl. She’d easily been his most memorable and enjoyable experience since arriving in this backwoods village. The people were friendly enough, but he was born for a different, more violent life.

From the age of five, the boys of Gaimos were trained in the finer arts of warfare. Scholars and philosophers were brought in from the corners of the world to further the boys’ training and education. Looking back, Kavan wondered why it had taken so long for the rest of Malweir to attack. Power was destructive, and the people of Gaimos had paid for it with their lives.

He left the past where it belonged and leaned down to kiss his companion’s naked shoulder. Tarryl smiled in her sleep and rolled over. Kavan let out an amused chuckle before slipping out of bed. Naked, he stood in the chill air of the room. The fire had died out sometime in the middle of the night. Frost coated the windowpanes. He wasn’t looking forward to leaving so soon but couldn’t help but feel the pull of his training. Aradain was a long way away, and he had a nagging feeling that time was important. If his guess was correct, he was going to need help along the way.

Kavan went through a series of stretches, trying to alleviate some of the tension in his body. Scars littered his lean, muscular frame. A spear thrust to his right thigh. A pair of arrows to the right of his heart. Sword cuts crisscrossing his back and chest. Indeed, the life of a Vengeance Knight was not for the weak of heart. Temptation whispered for him to return to bed, but he refused. He had many leagues of travel if he was going to succeed in finding the right ally necessary to confront the rumored evil hiding in the ruins of Gessun Thune.

His thoughts wandered as he dressed, and he was surprised to find he was afraid. Aradain was a relatively small kingdom over a hundred leagues away. He’d been there once before. King Eglios had just ascended to the throne and was working towards his eventual reputation as a hard man. Three times, he’d led his armies to war. They were defeated twice. Kavan knew the ineptitude of their military made Aradain a laughingstock among the neighboring kingdoms.

This was a common theme among the western kingdoms. Normally, he’d see no cause for concern, but the stunning victory of the third and final war gave him pause. The army of Aradain had virtually smashed the small kingdom of Barduk in a matter of days. Barduk no longer existed; it had become an annexation of Aradain. Eglios wasn’t known for his strength. Rumors of an impending invasion from the south had surely forced the king’s hand to desperate acts.

Kavan knew he had no choice but to go to Eglios and learn the truth. Deep foreboding troubled him. Fully clothed and armed, Kavan gave Tarryl a final kiss and slipped out the door. The smell of fresh bread and roasting meat stirred his appetite. He made his way to the kitchens to fill his pack. The owner’s wife smiled and pinched him on the cheek before refusing his coin. After all he’d done for their village, a pack of rations seemed insignificant. He thanked her for her generosity and headed outside.

The predawn air was crisp and burrowed under the edge of his cloak. Kavan briefly considered going back inside until it warmed up. When it came down to it, he was Gaimosian and unused to a life of comfort. This was what he was. Hardship was a constant companion. It made him harder while weakening others. The journey to Aradain was long and trying, and he didn’t know where else it would take him along the way. His conscience told him not to go alone, but he needed to go now. There would be time enough for rest when they laid him on a pyre.

Deciding there was nothing for it, Kavan shouldered his pack and set foot on the road. Halfway through the village he passed the Constabulary. He expected Mun to be peering out from behind curtains but was surprised to find Chardis himself sitting on the porch in wait.