Broken Blades Don't Sing (Tales of Ashkar Book One) (25 page)

347th Dusk of the 4999th Age of Rimas

Serraemas sat in darkness, peering out the
window at nothing in particular.

By now, the sun had gone to sleep, and the moon
shined its white light indiscriminately. The medicine man had
arrived shortly after the departure of Samantha's father, providing
much needed aid for the hammer-wielder. While Raxxil required much
more than simple medicine and bandages, anything was helpful at
this point.

Though Serraemas wished otherwise, he had made
the decision to rest for the night. They were nearly caught up with
their target, but Serraemas could tell that the others needed the
rest. Erendil claimed that the dark aura moved slowly anyway, so
they would not lose much time during the night.

He peered over his shoulder and surveyed the
small room. The other three had fallen fast asleep, their rhythmic
breathing and occasional snoring filling up the otherwise quiet
air. Turning back to gaze out the window, Serraemas looked up at
the stars.

"Raxxil troubles me greatly", rang Zaranet.

"He had repressed those memories for quite some
time", responded Serraemas.

"Can you blame him?" asked his elemental.

"I suppose not", said Serraemas, taking in a
deep breath, "However, he's never regarded newly met strangers with
such concern. Actually, he’s never really regarded anyone with much
concern at all since I met him."

"Except you", reminded Zaranet. "Perhaps you
should try to empathize. We both know that you understand his
pain."

"And we both know I buried that long ago",
Serraemas replied.

"Oh, you have?" chided the elemental. Serraemas
heard a chuckle echo in his mind, though it was not his own.

Serraemas gritted his teeth. "Some things are
better left—"

He felt a strong pat on his back. Serraemas
lurched forward from the force, but stopped himself lest he break
the glass window and fly out into the night. He turned his head and
locked eyes with his explosive companion. The moonlight shone on
Raxxil's face, illuminating a silly grin.

"I thought you were asleep", Serraemas
stated.

"I know you're tired as well, so don't try to
hide it", remarked Raxxil, ignoring Serraemas's comment as he
plopped down next to the staff-wielder. The landing seemed to be a
little too hard, for the blazing elementalist grunted in pain
before rubbing his rear.

"You should be resting", replied Serraemas
dryly. "Your wounds need healing."

"Don't be ridiculous", scoffed his partner.
"Rest comes after the mission."

The two sat next to each other in silence for a
while, both looking out the window.

"I'm sorry for provoking you like that back
there", whispered Raxxil, his voice breaking the still air.

Serraemas sighed. "You don't have to apolo—"

"Yes, I do", pressed Raxxil. "I've been clouded.
Tanaria brought it all back, and Samantha's resolve—her devotion to
the Order of the Faith—the memories were overwhelming."

"I understand", Serraemas assured. "She reminded
you of yourself? The Raxxil you used to be?"

Raxxil nodded quietly.

Serraemas looked to where Arwynn rested. "Does
she really look like Tanaria?"

Raxxil opened his mouth to speak, but looked
down and hesitated momentarily. "Just like her. Even her
personality."

"Then you would put her above all else",
Serraemas said bluntly. "Even our goals."

Raxxil's eyes softened and he pursed his lips,
but remained silent.

"Perhaps, then, we shall train her so that she
is the one that will protect us", Serraemas assuaged.

Raxxil leaned forward abruptly and wrapped his
arm around Serraemas's neck. "Hah! That's what I'm talking
about."

They sat next to each other for quite some time,
still embracing as they gazed out the window. Neither said a word.
Serraemas surveyed the town, noting that Enorra was much like
Bellis. A small village, with a few structures surrounded by wooden
fencing. Guards stood watch, but these were only militia instead of
Knights of the Faith, and had probably been temporarily roused by
the ill tidings of demons. Unlike Bellis, however, there were no
flickering shadows tonight.

Serraemas turned his head to regard Raxxil, and
the latter returned a warm smile. Serraemas did not reciprocate the
gesture, instead placing a hand on the hammer-wielder's shoulder.
"Never should we let—"

The sound of hooves and horses neighing filled
the air outside, interrupting Serraemas before he could finish and
captivating his attention. He looked out the window, noticing a
group of armored horses approaching the inn. They stopped just in
front of its steps. Equally-armored soldiers with blue capes were
mounted atop the steeds.

Serraemas counted seven.

The front door of the inn opened, and the
innkeeper stepped out as he held a lantern. He exchanged words with
one of the soldiers, a woman, who Serraemas presumed was the
leader. She held a large hammer, much like Raxxil's, but with a
longer shaft and smaller head.

"Who are they?" Raxxil asked excitedly.

Serraemas turned to his eager ally. "The Blue
Swords are here."

Raxxil's eyes widened, but not in fear. He
shifted his torso to the right and reached for his weapon—

"Not this time", snapped Serraemas as he grabbed
Raxxil's other arm and pulled him back. "Not here."

Confused eyes scanned the staff-wielder for an
answer. "What's the plan? Escape? You know I don't do that too
well."

Serraemas shook his head. "Surrender."

"This is a bold move", commented Zaranet.

Raxxil raised a brow, completely taken
aback.

“Trust me”, Serraemas added.

"That's it", replied Raxxil, sitting back and
folding his arms across his chest. “You've gone completely insane
now.”

By now, rushed footsteps ascended, growing
louder as they pounded on creaking wood.

"
He
will help us", Serraemas stated
assuredly.

"You've got to be kidding me", groaned Raxxil.
"I'm not going to hear the end of this one."

The footsteps halted abruptly just outside the
door. Serraemas heard mumbled words emanate from the other side,
then silence. A few moments passed with neither party moving so
much as a finger, and it felt as if time had frozen. Except for the
snoring that still invaded his ears, of course.

Suddenly, the door burst forth and toppled over
into the room. Raxxil dove to the right, rolling onto Arwynn's bed
and encapsulating her in his arms as snores changed into groans of
confusion.

Serraemas did not move an inch, instead focusing
his attention on the seven figures that squeezed through the
doorway with weapons drawn and lanterns lit. They must have braced
for an immediate counterattack, for they quickly moved into
formation. Well, as best as they could have in such a tiny room
anyway.

They were all heavily armored from head-to-toe
in silver plate. Their helms were forged in a way that revealed
their eyes and most of the bottom half of the face including the
mouth, though protected the nose and sides. An oval-shaped blue
sapphire was encrusted near the forehead. On the left side of the
chest plate was inscribed a blue sword. Their capes, which draped
over their right shoulders, were completely blue—the clearest sign
of their presence.

The person in front, the same woman, appeared
surprised that they had not retaliated. She looked at Serraemas,
then glanced to the left at the other three. Had they not had their
weapons visible, and perhaps without the obvious towrth, Serraemas
felt that they might actually have evaded the prestigious group of
warriors.

"Surrendering just like that?" asked the woman
cynically, clearly not as daft as she may appear.

The leader removed her helmet and held it at her
side, revealing the visage of a beautiful woman. She had a strong
nose, thin lips, and round, yellow eyes. Her hair was braided in a
long ponytail that cascaded down her right shoulder and ended at
her ribs. While she looked to be in her early-thirties, she held on
to her youth much better than most did at that age.

Serraemas locked eyes with the woman. "Get on
with it."

She glowered at Serraemas, still perplexed at
their lack of retaliation. "As you wish. I am Sanjin Sannoh of the
Blue Swords, and you are under arrest by the kingdom of Enept-Ihs
for crimes of—"

"I said hurry up", interrupted Serraemas.

The woman appeared taken aback. She opened her
mouth to speak—

"Come on now, Sanjin", moaned an elderly voice
behind her. "Just cuff them and let's go already. Criminals don’t
care to hear about the stupid laws."

"Shut it, Gelm!" boomed the woman as she turned
to face the older warrior before turning back to Serraemas and
pointing a finger at him. "Be quiet and let me offer you your
condemnation." With brows raised she glared at Serraemas expecting
a remark.

He remained silent.

"Now then", continued the woman, slightly irked
at his lack of retort, "You will be taken and imprisoned at
Enept-Ihs to await trial by the Grand Judge. There you will be
deemed either guilty or innocent, based off of any evidence of your
crimes, if such evidence exists. You will be appointed someone that
will argue in your favor, though the kingdom will also have someone
to argue against you. The truth will be revealed, and justice will
be served."

She drew in a deep breath, clearly pleased with
her words. She brought up her hand, opening her palm face-up and
motioning to one of the warriors behind her. One of the larger men
withdrew several cuffs that were engraved with runes and handed
them to Sanjin.

Serraemas said nothing as the woman stepped
forward and enslaved him.

---

"YOU SHOULD HAVE BURNED THEM ALL!" shouted
Vrand.

"You've been at it for hours", retorted Raxxil.
"Give it a rest already. Besides, can't do anything with these
cuffs on, you idiot."

Not ordinary bonds, the ones that now tied
Raxxil's hands and feet together were enchanted with
elemental-inhibiting properties; even if Raxxil wanted to, he would
not be able to use his powers.

They were all tethered to one of the horses,
trudging behind the seven riders on horseback that ushered them to
their doom. Fortunately for the riders, Tanaria rode with the
leader, Sanjin. Understandably, they treated the three men like
worthless scum, but saw it unfit to treat the child as a criminal.
Otherwise, Raxxil would have—without a doubt—burned them to ashes
once he was free from his shackles.

And he would be free of them, of that he had no
doubts. And he would still burn them. He was so certain of it, in
fact, that he resisted pulling on the reigns, toppling one of the
Blue Swords onto the ground, and smashing the bastards face in with
his bare hands then and there—a sequence of events that had run
through his mind over and over again since Enorra.

Unfortunately, that kind of gesture would
probably lead him to a swifter death, potentially put Tanaria in
harm's way, and more than likely lessen their chances of escaping.
Oh, and it would absolutely piss off Serraemas.

Quickly traveling through Farrin Forest to the
northwest, they had found themselves on the hilled plains that
occupied Enept-Ihs lands. Much like the outskirts of Port Yjur next
to the Kaghro Grasslands, farmers tended to agriculture. Livestock
and crops were bountiful, providing the kingdom with the resources
it needed. Raxxil also noticed several quarries along the way that
would be necessary for anything that required minerals, from
precious stones for trading, and iron and copper and everything in
between for smithing of all kinds.

"Walk faster!" barked one of the warriors—the
one Raxxil imagined crushing over and over again—as the bastard
tugged on the tethers.

Raxxil grunted in pain. By now, his feet were
numb. He could barely feel his legs.

The rider tugged again, and leered in Raxxil's
direction. He was the largest of all the warriors, and brandished a
massive sword on his back. Raxxil would destroy him utterly the
first chance he got.

Up ahead loomed towering stone walls that sat
atop the largest set of hills: a bastion of might. A massive stone
ramp ascended to the front gate that sat in the center of two such
walls on each side. They rose high into the sky, and the walls
stretched all the way around the kingdom, with towers placed in
sections: two on either side of the gate, continuing with one more
in each direction every hundred feet or so. Guards were stationed
at each tower, overlooking the lands and watching like hawks.

A few more minutes, and they were at the bottom
of the ramp with their prison towering before them. Hooves thudded
on stone as they made their way closer to their doom, and with
another tug, they began their ascent. Raxxil looked at Serraemas
for assurance, still uncertain about simply surrendering. The
latter said nothing, but shifted his eyes past the hammer-wielder,
as if there was something important that needed his attention.
Turning his head, Raxxil's gaze fell upon the towrth. He had almost
forgotten about the lizard-man.

Erendil had said nothing since their capture,
and had spent the entire time staring absentmindedly at the ground.
No extravagant curiosity. No silly, absurd questions about the
world. Silence.

"Hey, what's up with you?" whispered Raxxil as
he leaned toward Erendil.

No response. Not even a gesture of
acknowledgement.

Raxxil looked to his left and shrugged at the
icy elementalist. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Serraemas opened his mouth to speak—

Raxxil crashed into the rear of one of the
horses. It lurched forward, trying to regain its footing and almost
throwing the rider off its back. Pain surged through Raxxil as he
looked up. They had reached the kingdom's gates. Its walls rose
high, solidifying its presence as a formidable fortress.