Brave Men Die: Part 3 (7 page)

The wind rattled through the stone corridors of the Academy making the Fifth Circle mage glance nervously over her shoulder. Not discarding the possible threat, Laura moved urgently along. Her footsteps scuttled across the tiled floor as she hurried along the first floor open expanse, passing through the periodic shadows cast by the pillars on her left side.

Travelling quickly down the stairs, her hand skimmed along the rail for balance, the balls of her feet barely touching each step. With her hood down, her blonde hair was tousled by the breeze channelling down the corridors of the lower levels of the Academy. Her right hand absently pulled the straying strands from her hazel eyes and back behind her ear every other minute as the swirling wind in the courtyard took over.

The Academy was silent in the early hours of the morning. The other students and mentors were abed or at study, anywhere but walking the halls. It was still hot and there was humidity in the summer air, despite the sun sinking beneath the horizon hours ago and the current breeze. As she neared the western training area that was external to the main building, Laura could sense the residue of magic that hung heavily in the air. She blinked and traced the pattern, recognising a variety of familiar signatures and the weaves they had cast. Most of it was of an elemental nature, no mage above the Sixth Circle had been on the western field yesterday morning, but two women had been casting something different. There were two fire-based incants but they had darker threads, something she couldn’t quite place. Laura thought after some sleep she would come back and figure out what they were doing, learn it for herself and see what else she could apply the twisted threads to.

When she veered away from the training grounds Laura’s thoughts returned to her fears of being followed. Pausing ever so slightly, the incant came to the forefront of her mind and she whispered the four key words to activate the spell and send out a pulse that would pick up anyone in the vicinity who was currently casting. There were no pings on her radar, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t being followed by conventional means. Perhaps she just couldn’t see them trailing her.

The thought of being followed was slightly disturbing. She’d never been one to frighten easily, but the information she knew would get her killed if she revealed it to the wrong person.

It had taken her two days to decide who to share that information with. Laura had to weigh up her options. By revealing her hand now she thought it would put her in good stead for later with whomever she told.

The choice of Elder Sectin had ultimately been quite simple. She was known for her reclusive nature, her unwillingness to share with the other Council members, and she knew the excavation site extensively. If there was anything beneath the ground in Firadon she would know what it was and how it worked. Laura’s only concern was one of the final sentences in the missive she had intercepted on her shift in the Academy’s mail centre. It had been addressed to “a mage” with no name attached. As far as she was concerned, she was a mage and therefore it was meant for her. The news in the letter that made her act quickly was, ‘Captain Finn Strom had sent for his cousin, an acolyte named Rigel, and was told to bring his pet mage along.’ Clearly the writer had no idea that it was the mage in charge and the acolyte was subject to her whim. But worse, more inherent than the man’s stupidity, was the fact that there was only one acolyte at the Academy named Rigel — notorious and skilled — and worse, he belonged to the Seventh Circle mage, Carina.

Carina had a reputation everyone was in awe of. The blonde was ferocious, intelligent, and cunning. Her movement through the Circles had been fast and brutal and the testers had remained cagey about the details, which in turn made her a celebrity in her own right. In recent times only Ara had risen so quickly but not under the same circumstances. Carina was ambitious and ruthless, Ara patient and talented — but both brilliant.

Laura had never been in a class with either of them, she’d started after both and had never accelerated at the same speed. She had only seen Carina in action once, casting in the yard as everyone stared open-mouthed as the spell was nothing like they had seen before.

Elder Sectin had a similar reputation to Carina — that fierce attitude that scared the crap out of the lesser-ranked magi. Elder Sectin specialised in magical artefacts, the kind that would be buried underneath the ruins. She was intimidating, centuries old and wise beyond that, and stunned all the others into silence. Laura had never spoken to her, had even avoided her in the halls, but when forced to walk past her she even kept her head down and scurried on by.

But Laura had swallowed her fear and some part of her pride when she learned of the discovery of an untouched chamber beneath the ruins. It was the largest find in centuries and countered the common knowledge that those ruins had been cleared out centuries ago by the Council. This discovery could bring back some of the forgotten magics lost in the breaking. Laura wanted to be like Carina, wanted to be pushing the boundaries, to become stronger than the Council. Being in on the ground on this discovery could mean access to anything they pulled out of it, it could mean she would be one of the first to learn.

As she stepped out into the south side courtyard the wind whipped through the branches of the only two trees present, shaking a flurry of bright green leaves to the ground below.

Laura thought of the situation in Firadon and wished she was down there. With no one there but Carina, she would keep all the discoveries to herself. There was no doubt in her mind that unless she was there or a member of the Council then there would be no inventory and things would just go missing. Like all the good things. Especially if it had anything to do with Carina’s field of study.

She paused in the shadows of the largest trunk and waited. She knew she was early but she didn’t want to be tardy, Elder Sectin despised tardiness and she didn’t want to start on a back foot.

The moonlight illuminated every path into the courtyard, and Laura watched intently for the elder mage and anyone else who was planning on crashing. When she had walked into the office on the fifth floor at the Academy and had requested to speak to the senior mage, she had made a note of every person that she passed, whether mage or acolyte. They were all suspicious, all jealous. She wouldn’t give them the opportunity to take this away from her.

Laura only heard the footsteps approaching from behind her the moment before the blade sank into her lower back. She gasped in pain before a hand muffled her building scream and pulled her down to the ground. The assassin pulled the knife from her back as blood slid down her legs and Laura looked frantically around to locate her assailant.

The man stood over her menacingly, blade dripping with her blood as her life ebbed away. He knelt down beside her, leaning forward. As he moved closer his face moved out of the shadow and her eyes went wide as she recognised him. But instead of whispering in her ear, he put a hand on her breast and whispered an incant that incinerated her in seconds, leaving no trace that Laura Dennison ever existed as the wind scattered what little ash remained on the spot of her murder.

The Nails were somewhere in the Derelict Plains, Castor had no real idea where. Probably somewhere in the middle. He hadn’t seen the map for days but what else was it going to tell him. They were behind enemy lines and out here, everything was a threat.

The men were exhausted. They needed to rest, recuperate, sleep. They just needed one day when someone wasn’t trying to kill them.

Hydrus led the unit into a small copse of trees that would offer them very little protection if anyone came by and searched it. The crescent moon filling the night sky exposed between the drifting clouds wouldn’t help them go unseen. They needed darkness. There was a small depression in the middle of the trees that Hydrus ordered the wounded take the horses into to try to get them out of sight. The rest of the unit dispersed and settled themselves on the outskirts of the copse, lying on their bellies and peering out into the darkness.

Castor found what cover he could and stared out into the darkness. Somewhere out there Pyxis was searching for them. Probably half the Empire was searching for them, after what they had been doing to their supply lines. He placed the loaded crossbow beside his hand and looked out from underneath the branch.

The unit maintained silence as they kept up their vigil. There was no telling what was out in the night. Castor swore he saw movement out to his right and took hold of his crossbow. By the time he was in position the night had gone still and he had nothing to shoot. He swore that it wouldn’t happen again and he kept the crossbow close to his fingertips.

His heart beat faster as the hours went by, his imagination jumping at the shadows and the rustles he heard behind him. Castor had to keep telling himself it was just another one of his men. There was no way the enemy could have snuck up on them. Pyxis couldn’t be that close.

It was very early in the morning, still well before dawn, when Volans approached carefully from behind him. Sneaking up on his belly, he was careful not to stand and create a man-shaped silhouette that would have stood out amongst the thinly spread trees.

‘Castor,’ he called softly, tapping him on the shoulder.

Castor turned his bleary eyes on the lieutenant.

‘Hydrus wants you to lead a group of men out there and investigate one of the shadows he keeps seeing.’

‘Is it really a threat or is it in his head?’

‘Who knows until you go out and investigate? I’ve seen my fair share of moving shadows out there tonight. Who can say if any of them were real?’

Castor rolled his eyes and slowly scurried his way back from the edge of the tree line toward the waiting group of men and back up to Hydrus’ location. With the six men he was about to lead out into the empty Kyzantine plains behind him, he nestled beside Hydrus and waited for instructions.

‘Look out there Castor,’ he whispered. ‘There has been a shadow slowly moving from the right side of my vision to the left. Something is moving out there and I want you to go and stop it.’

‘What is it?’

‘No fucking idea. I just want it to stop moving so I can stop freaking out.’

Castor reluctantly nodded and crawled out of the copse of trees over the prickly grass in the direction of Hydrus’ mysterious shadow. The six others followed with crossbows tucked under their armpits and scanned the darkness for the enemy. Castor kept low as he made his way toward the small ditch that lead to the north–east that would get the squad where Hydrus had indicated.

Crawling up over the side, Castor kept his body flat as possible and rolled over into the ditch, brought his bow up and scanned both directions. Nothing. He gave the others the signal and they joined him in the ditch. Aron and James were the first over, bows at hand. They moved further along as the others dropped down into the darkness. Castor was too tired to try and make out who they were, so he continued his way along passing the other two.

The ditch got slightly deeper so he took his chances and got to his feet and ran doubled over for a couple of metres before slumping back down, listening for sounds that he had been spotted. After moments of hearing nothing but his own heartbeat, he signalled for the men to hurry up. When they had caught up he went again, for longer this time, with the rest of them in tow.

His destination was now only a hundred metres in front and the wind had picked up, carrying the softest wheezing noise with it. Castor jumped as a creaking noise filled his ears, the silence of the plains magnifying the simple sound as he dove to the ground for cover. He got to his knees feeling incredibly foolish and risked a glance over his shoulder, only to be comforted by the fact that the rest of them were shitting themselves too. Another noise broke the silence of the night and the seven Nails all raised their crossbows and peered along the sights, looking for something to fire upon. Something, anything that was real that they could kill to soothe their nerves.

There was nothing.

Castor crawled out of the ditch and went forward on his stomach after he reassured himself that everything was fine and looked for any signs of Hydrus’ threat. His imagination played tricks on him as the moon disappeared behind the clouds and threw everything pitch black. He could hear himself breathing, the noise pounding in his ears, and he worried that he was giving them away.

The shadows moved off on his right. They had all seen it and jumped at the movement. There was nothing left for it now. They had to see what it was. Castor gave the hand signal and they all jumped to their feet, fingers on the triggers, and ran toward the possible threat. They raced up the last little incline and threw themselves over the edge, bolts sighted on nothing but grass. James and Aron went down toward the left, Castor moving on the right as the others kept them covered.

All three spun in tight circles, worried they were surrounded, that the enemy could come from anywhere. Slowly they lowered their weapons one by one and Aron turned and looked at him to explain, but all Castor could do was shrug. What could he say, there really was nothing here.

‘Let’s get back to camp. There is nothing out here to kill. Hydrus must have been imagining things.’

Shadows flittered behind him and they all spun round to face them. Once again there was nothing there.

‘Fuck I need some sleep,’ Aron muttered.

The others all mumbled their agreement. Castor smiled and thought of sleep. Maybe tomorrow he would get some as he made his way back to the ditch. He knew as soon as they returned they would be back to their positions along the tree line looking for jumping shadows.

The Kyzantine scout risked a smile as he watched the Murukan squad turn around and return to the copse of trees the unit had set up camp in. He had been tracking them on foot for days now, running along behind as they crossed the plains. With nothing but a spear and the bag slung over his shoulder with food and water, travelling light was the only way he could keep up. The general had ordered that he find them and pursue, disrupting them whenever possible.

Tracking the silhouettes of the seven men, they slowly crawled to the others without ever turning back. He rolled over on his back and looked up as the moon slid from behind the clouds, exposing his position in the grass. Clutching at his dagger, he scraped a sign in the dirt that the unit would recognise and follow.

Exhausted himself, he thought his job was done for the night. The moving shadows he had created earlier would keep the Murukans up all night, jumping at anything. Closing his eyes he drifted to sleep, smiling at a job well done.