Six Celestial Swords (13 page)

Alere stood idle for a moment upon a carpeted staircase between floors that was also a bridge across the center hall of the mountain fortress. Someone had been along to light the lamps. Not all of them, but many of the sleek, decorative iron posts had a fire glowing within the delicate glass shapes that topped them. It was not an entirely useless endeavor, as the bridge happened to be one of the easiest and quickest routes from one side of the main house to the other. Still, the light did little to penetrate the surrounding shadow and even less to uplift Alere’s spirits.

He could justify passing charge of the house to Kailel. Not only was his cousin the son of Morgen Shaederin’s closest brother, but he had a sound presence of mind about him and a natural skill at handling the affairs of the household. Already he had been to the treasury and tallied the remains of the Shaederin capital against the records and the evidence of thieves. Mostly artifacts and items throughout the castle appraised by the greedy eye to be of tremendous worth had been taken. The treasury itself had been ransacked, but apparently not by a large number of burglars and none who were inclined to return after filling their purses once. The remains belonged entirely to the Shaederins, without lien or attachment, as Alere had paid for their stay in another elven lord’s domain with his sword arm and very nearly his life, on more than one occasion.

Kailel had trained with a sword as well and his skills were not lacking. Again, his placement as lord of the Shaederin household was justified. And yet, Alere couldn’t help the misgivings he felt dropping such a burden in the lap of one so young.

And are you so old?
He asked himself.
At just sixteen you set foot upon your first battlefield. Kailel is the same tender age and he has only to combat his emotions. He will do well here, with the others. It is where he belongs.

“Alere?”

The tiny voice drew him out of his pause. He shifted his focus back to the steps and walked up a few more of them, stopping again when he saw the small girl in his path. He knelt to her height. “Edelyn, it is late. You should be in your bed, little one.”

“I’m not tired,” she said. “I’m never tired. I want to go with you.”

He smiled at her gently and tucked strands of pale hair behind her ear. “And you may...when I have returned from my journey and you are old enough to be taught to ride.”

Edelyn was the smallest of them—not seven years old yet, as she had been an infant when they fled from their home—and so, in her endearing innocence, accepted the terms without considering them. She did so with a firm nod.

Alere stood and lifted her into his arms. “My darling little one, I shall surely miss you.”

“I love you, Alere,” the child yawned, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“And I love you,” he answered, but she did not hear as she had already fallen fast asleep upon his shoulder.

Kailel, however, standing at the top of the bridge of stairs, did hear. “How can you leave them?” he asked, and not argumentatively, so much as wonderingly.

Alere said softly, “With a heavy heart.”

Kailel watched his cousin holding the smallest Shaederin for a moment, then said, “We will need to employ guards. Will you not at least stay long enough to help me with the selection? I fear I am not as wise a judge of character as you. I’m not certain whether I can tell a mercenary from an honest soldier.”

“Any soldier whose services are not pledged already to a lord is a mercenary,” Alere informed. “But there are some better than others. I think you will be able to tell them apart.”

“I think you have too much faith in me.”

“You have yet to damage my faith in you, Kailel. It would bolster, I think, if you were to develop some faith in yourself.”

Kailel looked away from Alere just then, down at the deep shadows beneath them. “I have not seen as much of the world as you have, Alere. I feel naïve sometimes.”

“That you can admit to that proves you are not.”

Kailel met Alere’s gaze. “Alere...”

Recognizing the sentimental gleam in Kailel’s eyes, Alere diverted a second assault on his heart by changing the subject. “The armory appears in fair order.”

Kailel confirmed the statement with a nod. “The weapons’ master kept a detailed catalogue. All that was missing lay with the bodies and were recovered before burial. Apparently our thieves were more interested in elven art and gold than blades.”

“A foolish lot they were,” Alere replied. And then he asked, “You have claimed your father’s sword?”

Kailel shook his head. “It was broken in the battle. I buried the shards with him.”

Alere had not partaken of much of the task of burial once becoming enrapt in his thorough search of the grounds. He had not been informed and said appropriately, “I’m sorry, Kailel.”

“My father’s blade wasn’t enchanted.” Kailel came forward and carefully took little Edelyn from Alere. “Perhaps it’s for the best. What would the others do if we both felt vengeance’s call?”

“Find a weapon that you trust,” Alere advised, deciding not to reproach his cousin for his careless statement. “Find one for Tahren and Ardin as well.”

“They are only children,” Kailel argued.

“They are each fourteen and they are each strong. They will learn fast and well.”

Kailel sighed and said, neither for the first time or the last, “I wish you would stay.”

“I have put this off for too long already. I will leave when the storm passes.”

Kailel turned and started back up the stairs. “In that case, I hope that it rains all night and into the morning. Then you’d at least have to assist me in the selection of weapons.”

IN SPITE OF Kailel’s wishes, the storm lasted only a few hours. The stars were visible again when Alere led Breigh, a strong ivory mare, out of the stables. He was dressed in the traditional riding whites of a Verressi hunter and again wearing his father’s sword. With it, he carried a small dagger and a bow. He carried very little supplies or provisions and only a small amount of coins. He was not planning on squandering time or money at inns or other establishments.

“I wish you would stay,” Kailel said, once more, as Alere performed a final check of his gear and the finely bred horse Lord Doriel had given him before he left his land. “It has been years, Alere. Who’s to say that whomever was behind the attack on our family isn’t dead?”

“No one is to say, save whomever was behind the attack. But you should know, Kailel, that it is not revenge that I seek. Certainly not that alone.”

“Then what?”

Alere tugged on the last straps to be checked, then gathered the horse’s reins and hoisted himself effortlessly into the saddle. He looked down at Kailel and said, “The demons of Dryth are restless. Someone must quiet them.”

“A pity for us that it must be you,” Kailel complained, then met Alere’s gaze, shadowed beneath the hood of his cloak, and said gently, “Safe journey, cousin.”

Alere inclined his head, then looked to the castle’s main gates, and fled from his home for the second time.

I
T HAD BEEN no easy task leaving the
Pride of Celestia
and her crew. However, there was no time for lingering. Xu Liang had emerged from his meditation several hours before coming to Nelayne and settled his fees with Yvain, both monetarily and with a translation of the returned scrolls written by Cai Shi-meng. She seemed to appreciate the shared knowledge, but was preoccupied with staring at his previously wounded shoulder, even though it had been cleaned—with water only—and covered with the mended, stained silk of his robes. She did not specify whether she was curious about the wound or the repair to his clothing—performed by Gai Ping—that not quite neatly reconnected the image of a bird’s head to its body along the seam of the over robe’s shoulder.

Xu Liang did not ask. He appreciated the concern that he received from those who Fu Ran had evidently developed a strong sense of kinship with. Compassion was a divine trait, after all. Still, the wound was acquired in honorable service to his empress, and would heal quicker with her blessing, as well as through the attendance of the spirits his constant meditative state invoked. Knowing that enabled him to put the lingering ache in his shoulder and the attack that inspired it behind him for now. He had taken many important steps since the start of his journey, but perhaps none so important yet as those he would take now that he had arrived on the shores of what many would consider the outermost barbarian lands.

The ship drifted at a sluggish wake in search of a proper landing. From his portside view, Xu Liang was able to draw in aspects of the settlement forthcoming. It was beyond a settlement. The western port city reminded Xu Liang of Ti Lao with its crowd and bustle, but otherwise they were not at all similar. There was a great deal more peddlers conglomerating near the docks of Nelayne, most of them selling wares rather than food. The merchants sold out of carts and baskets, and from lines connecting many of the stands, like a colorful network of webbing. Music was played from several different sources at once, mostly with western instruments, though there were a few evidently from other cultures…none from Sheng Fan. There were dancers and magicians performing wherever they found space among the merchants. Beyond the waterfront, the city itself rose in the form of grimy white towers and proud-looking brick structures standing close together, life flowing between the narrow gaps like blood through veins.

Xu Liang had seen the city before, but only twice, and both times it seemed to have changed somehow in his absence. Inevitably it was growing, but even a growing city in Sheng Fan maintained some sameness in appearance. Western towns seemed to spread like wildflowers, in a vast array of disordered color, size, and shape.

Guang Ci and the four other bodyguards who had never left Sheng Fan before this journey stared at the upcoming barbarian land in utter amaze. They were too disoriented by the scene to show either admiration or disgust. The veterans of Xu Liang’s expeditions, however, were not impressed, nor were they overly unimpressed.

“The land keeps changing,” Xu Liang said to no one in particular. However, the observation did not go unnoticed.

“Lord Xu Liang,” Gai Ping said, gesturing at the city with his arm. “Don’t tell me you find all of this beautiful as well.”

Xu Liang smiled, “In its way.”

The elder laughed, receiving the answer he’d expected. It was shortly afterward that Xu Liang was distracted from the present scenery by a vision out of the past.

When Fu Ran knelt before him as was customary of a servant in Sheng Fan and not the rogue sailor he’d become, Xu Liang found himself literally without words.

The silence did not last, as the large man swallowed his pride and said, “My lord, I shall accompany you, if you will permit it.”

At the request, Xu Liang thought back almost thirty years, to two people who had always been as opposite from one another as night from day. Xu Liang had been a child when Fu Ran’s father fell into Xu Hong’s service as a personal bodyguard. Fu Yan had given his life in service to his lord and it was not long before his quickly growing son inherited the position, only to be later charged to Xu Liang when the student was summoned to the Imperial City. They had not been raised as brothers—such was unthinkable—but perhaps a brotherly sentiment had developed between them over the many years. Surely, there was more than duty or discipline argued the day Fu Ran set out to find his place in the world, believing somehow that Sheng Fan was not it. Xu Liang recalled how stubborn they had both been, the anger Xu Liang rarely felt that had unquestionably assailed his resolve then. Fu Ran left and Xu Liang, though hurt, had long thought that he would welcome his former servant back. He realized now that he could not.

“No, Fu Ran,” Xu Liang finally said. When the large man looked up, astonished by this decision, Xu Liang explained. “You left Sheng Fan seeking a freedom you did not believe could exist for you in our homeland. I’m not certain if you have found it, but certainly you have found something in your travels and aboard this ship. I will not take it from you by taking you back as you were.”