Beyond the Edge of Dawn (7 page)

The feast lasted hours, much to Pirneon’s dislike. They were all exhausted, him perhaps most of all. A series of unending speeches spanned the event, and the men roared and cheered throughout. Pirneon found himself nodding off somewhere in the middle before a sharp elbow snapped him awake. Aphere ensured Barum was fed and taken care of as small groups began to gradually excuse themselves. Not even the generosity of the newly pronounced Sultan was enough to keep them on their feet after a long, hard-fought battle.

“What next for these two knights of renown?” Salac abruptly asked as dawn broke the night sky.

“Other kingdoms have need of our services,” Pirneon replied between stifled yawns. “One cannot know which way the wind shall blow.”

“It’s a vacation for me,” Aphere hesitantly smiled. “I heard of a nice place to the east of Averon. Quiet and out of the way.”

“The perfect chance to collect your thoughts. You have surely deserved it, both of you,” Salac agreed.

The minister suddenly burst back into the tent. He immediately dropped to his knees and bowed his head. His cheeks were red, and he was breathing hard.

Salac raised a benevolent hand. “Rise, my friend. What is it? What has you so excited?”

The Minister grinned. “Sultan, we have him. We have found the traitor Bradgen.”

Pirneon was instantly on his feet. His dagger was already in hand. More than anyone else, he desired revenge.

Just Dues

Soldiers pushed and dragged Bradgen across the same raised platform on which Habrim had been killed. He was bruised and bloody. His once fine robes were torn, soiled. Nothing about him suggested his former standing, yet, despite his fall from grace, his eyes still bore a timid defiance. He grunted as he was shoved to Salac’s feet. The iron chain attached to the collar around his neck kept him from enacting any thoughts of treachery.

“This is the man who so casually murdered my father and sought to rule the world?” Salac spit. “Tell me why I should not bleed you here and now.”

Bradgen placed his forehead on the ground. “I did what needed to be done for the good of the desert. All I wanted was to make our kingdom strong again. Adonmeia and his Vengeance Knight went mad and made sport of killing honored Habrim! They were reckless and cruel. I did what I could to ensure our people remained strong. Both men paid for their crimes before you arrived.”

“I’m curious as to what crimes I was punished for,” Pirneon said after a stern look from Salac.

Shock rippled across Bradgen’s face as he lifted his head enough to see Pirneon glaring at him. “You! You should be dead. Great Sultan, this man is a poison to our kind. He cannot be trusted.”

Salac slapped him hard enough to bring tears. He looked to Pirneon, his gaze softening slightly. “I believe you now. He is an evil this kingdom can ill afford. Many thanks for bringing him to my attention.”

“I’d prefer to take him to the netherworld.” His hand, after sheathing his dagger, rested comfortably on the pommel of his sword.

Salac laughed, crisp and unusually wicked. “There will be no need for that, dread knight. Guards, cut out his tongue and eyes and turn him loose in the deep desert. Never again shall this filth taint our lands.”

They dragged the screaming Bradgen away. Aphere winced at the sound. She’d never advocated torture, and there was no honor in Bradgen’s punishment. None could survive the desert crippled so.

“You do not approve?” Salac questioned. “He received no more than he deserved. A message needed to be delivered. Usurpers shall suffer the worst of fates.”

Aphere held her tongue, though inside she believed she’d misjudged the quality of Salac’s character.

“Think no more on this. The night is nearly done, and we are all tired. Go now and rest. I shall have my men supply you and see to your mounts. You may depart at your own discretion.”

Both knights offered short bows and turned to leave.

“Pirneon.”

He slowed and turned back. Pirneon’s eyes were already steeled in anticipation of what was to come.

“I shall never call you friend, no matter what I announced before the others. You may not have killed my father, but you willingly came to do so. My gratitude is given for your part in ending this war, but should ever return to the desert and I catch wind of it, I will hunt you down with every asset available. Your fate will be worse than Bradgen’s. Good day, sir.”

Pirneon nodded again and stalked off.

Aphere had been waiting for him just outside the tent. “What was that all about?”

“Just a friendly reminder that my time here is ended. What are your plans from here?” he asked.

“West is the fastest route out of the desert. I was thinking about heading for the Kergland Spine and then south to one of the seaports. It shouldn’t be too hard to secure passage aboard a merchant vessel.”

“You still mean to go to Averon?”

“Yes. I cannot say why, but I feel pulled there. What of your plans?”

He paused; until now, he hadn’t given it much thought. The simple act of getting away was all that had mattered. “I’d like to return to Skaag Mountain. I need meditation to heal my mind. Too many wrong decisions have plagued my inner thoughts of late. I must attend to those demons before returning to the campaign.”

“Perhaps we could travel together for a while?” she offered.

“Perhaps.”

The solitary lifestyle was hard on every Vengeance Knight and he’d been at it for much longer than either she or Barum. Her youthful company might inspire him again and ease some of his loneliness.

They walked back to where Barum waited. In their absence, he’d laid out their gear and readied the mounts. All three were tethered to a nearby tent stake. Aphere was impressed, not having a squire of her own.

“All is prepared. Your tent is on the left, Lady Aphere,” he said.

“Thank you, Barum,” she told him with a genuine smile.

Pirneon squared off on her. “Shall we leave at dusk? I don’t relish the idea of traveling in the hot of the day.”

“Until then.”

They entered their respective tents and collapsed.

The sun was setting by the time the Gaimosians mounted and headed out. An honor guard had been assembled to see them off. Aphere had been named a hero of the realm for her actions in the war, and, so long as she traveled with Pirneon, he had nothing to fear. It was a title neither sought nor accepted. Of Salac, they saw naught.

The stench of burning bodies choked the air. Disease spread quickly, and fire was the best way to prevent it. The pyres burned for many days, and, when it was all finished, this site would forever be known as the Hall of Death.

Pirneon and Aphere rode away without looking back. He was glad to finally be rid of the desert people. Their ways were primitive, violent and crude. It was a land where strength of arms was the only respected power. Salac might have won a great battle, but it might be years before the desert unified. When that day arrived, woe to Malweir, for their savagery would threaten the very pillars of society.

They rode through the night and didn’t pause until the pale glow of the massive pyres was lost to the night. The air was pure and crisp. A slight chill settled over them. The desert was cold at night; temperatures dropped more than fifty degrees once the sun set. Pirneon enjoyed the solitude of the darkness. It was nearly perfect with no moon, and thousands of stars dazzled the skies.

Halfway through the night, they began alternating riding and walking to rest the horses. The pace was gentle, undemanding. Pirneon stopped them every so often to rest, knowing the sun would be murder on man and beast alike.

“The sky is so beautiful,” Aphere said, her gazed fixed longingly on the stars.

“It is, indeed, and shall be more so once we leave this cursed kingdom.”

She scowled at his derision. “The desert isn’t so bad. One can learn to make peace here.”

Pirneon grunted. “Peace, perhaps, but look around. Everything is the same for as far as the eye can see. I need mountains and trees. Green grass and gently babbling streams. The doldrums of this place would ruin me.”

Her laugh was light and vivid. “You manage to find the worst in things. Not everything has a dagger waiting in the shadows.”

His scowl went unseen in the night. Barum knew better and was forced to stifle his laugh.

“Tell me more about this…special talent you have,” Pirneon said after a time.

“What can I say? One day, I woke up and felt different inside. It really is almost unexplainable. The feeling came and went at first. I’d get flashes when I least expected.”

His eyes turned cold at the thought. “Could it have to do with the manner in which you were raised?”

“No. At least, I don’t think so. I was raised to follow in the code of the knights. My father did his best to train me in the old ways.”

He wasn’t satisfied. “You were not trained on Skaag Mountain. Knights connected with an ancient power in the depths of the mountain. The order of scholars believed that’s where we learned and developed. Some argued the power stemmed from the very heart of Malweir. Growing up so far away from Gaimos could have distanced you from the source enough to mutate your bond.”

“I have made the pilgrimage to the ancient training grounds and felt the stirrings of the old power, Pirneon. Yet it has not changed me. Kistan goes to great lengths to ensure we each attain our full potential, without becoming a threat.”

Pirneon said, “He was considered a recluse even among us. Spent most of his time in the deep forests. Some say he often spoke to Elves and other Fey creatures. For myself, I have seen neither. One day, he rode off into the east towards the forest of Relin Werd. When he returned three years later, he was dressed in simple blue robes. Gone were his weapons and horse. He claimed he no longer followed the code, for it led only to death. He was laughed at and shunned.

“I was one who did not believe him. Right before the end, he gave away all of his possessions and whispered a harsh prophecy on our lands. ‘In one score and a day, the pride of this people shall shatter,’ he said. Kistan was driven from Gaimos and proclaimed a heretic.”

Pirneon’s voice faded to a whisper. “Twenty years and a day later, his prophecy was fulfilled.”

One of the spare mounts snickered and dropped its ears flat.

“At any rate, I’d believed him dead.”

“He’s anything but. Far to the east lies a great lake, named Thuil by the Elves. Do you know of it?” she asked.

He did.

“Kistan has made it his home. For the last fifty plus years, he’s built a private community on the shores of the lake. There are folk of all races there: Dwarves, Elves, Trolls, even a Sprygg or two.”

“An odd assortment. To what end?” he asked.

“He’s teaching them.”

Pirneon straightened and reined to a halt. “Teaching them what?”

Dark visions of a more twisted, abstract Gaimos sprang to life.

“To find an inner power and develop it to maximum potential. None can say where the power comes from, for only he and a handful of others are from Gaimos. To my knowledge, they use their talents for good, though I did not stay long. The calling brought me back west.”

“These are dangerous tidings you speak of,” he admitted. “Our kind was given the bond as a gift from the gods. Now you tell me it has mutated? Changed? We have squandered our gift and will pay for our sins. Untrained power such as this has the potential to tear all of Malweir apart. Kistan could well be marching us towards a final doom.”

Aphere regarded him sharply. “Pirneon, his students are forbidden to carry any sort of weapon. They had but a handful of retainer guards to ward off brigands and such, but no more. He preaches peace.”

“How many do you think have answered his calling?”

“Maybe a hundred,” she quietly answered.

He clicked his horse forward. Strong premonitions burned, leaving a frightened feeling in the core of his being. Arguing with Aphere wasn’t going to solve anything. He felt the taint in her bond and was disgusted. The bond was sacred and holy to their blood. Any transformation should be considered abhorrent, but he withheld his judgment. As former Knight Marshall, he was trusted to be fair and impartial. He knew what needed to be done, though he remained hesitant.

“I think one day I will go see Kistan and learn the truth behind his teachings. Whether it bodes ill or not I will discover soon enough,” he said.

“Fair enough,” Aphere said.

Dawn streaked through the sky by the time they stopped. They helped Barum erect a large canvas lean-to large enough for the three of them and their horses. By dusk, they were heading west again. Pirneon figured they were still at least a day away from the edge of the desert and even further from the Kergland Spine. Cresting a large series of dunes, they looked down upon a sprawling complex of tents. At last, they’d arrived at the way station. Drenched in sweat and bordering dehydration, they were more than ready to resupply and rest before heading out. He figured they’d need at least a full day in order to recover from their trek across the desert. Less than an hour later found them bathed and eating roast lamb in a large common area tent.