The Bones of the Earth (The Dark Age) (18 page)

Javor was not feeling charitable in the heat. “I don’t get much chance around you,” he answered.

“
Oh, really,” Photius chuckled. “Yes, I have been accused of talking overmuch before. Still, I would like to know your thoughts, my boy. You have been through much more than almost anyone I’ve ever known in this past month.”

“
Has it really been that long? Well, yes. I don’t know what to think. There has been so much that I never dreamed of before, Photius. Monsters and dragons—I never really believed in those things before. The world seemed a much safer place in my village. At least until …”

Photius stretched his legs in front of him. “One’s childhood home always appears safe in our memories. But you have learned a valuable lesson.”

“
One that killed my family.”

Photius nodded, the gentle note in his voice and eyes again. “Yes. It is a hard lesson nonetheless.” He continued after a pause. “But you survived. Take heart from that: you have faced terrible dangers with only a scratch and a few bruises.”

“
Raiders, dragons, Ghastog—what chance does any of us have? How many of these—these
things
are there?”

“
No one knows. Hell has launched a final war, to wipe us out. I told you that the seas are rising, coastal villages are disappearing—not a hundred leagues from here!” He waved vaguely to the east. “The number of monsters that have appeared out of the east has been rising. They have sparked panicked migrations of whole populations of barbarians, which destroyed the Roman Empire in the West and nearly destroyed the eastern as well. Persia and other kingdoms in the east have been shaken, too. Pestilences have swept across Asia and Europe, and killed nearly half the population of Constantinople itself.”

Javor nodded. “But why are they after me? What is it about the amulet and the dagger that they want?”

“
As I said, the amulet protects you. Your enemies cannot see you using magic; they have to come close to see you with their own eyes, naturally.

“
As for the knife, you saw how it works against monsters. It killed Ghastog. It was the only blade that penetrated his hide. Do you know what that means? It’s more powerful than the best steel made in the greatest human civilizations in the East. That knife is older than you can imagine.

“
Javor, you are carrying a great weapon, one of the few that can make a difference in this war of extermination. And it belongs to you. Whatever intelligence lives within those two items is determined to stay with you.

“
That is why that dragon is chasing you, has been following you since you climbed to Ghastog’s lair in the mountain. I can sense it now, not far from us, searching for you. It knows you are nearby, but your amulet is masking you. That is why we must get to Constantinople and to my order. Only then can we completely unravel this riddle.”

“
I don’t know if I can do this, Photius. I’m not a warrior. I’m just a kid from a poor village. I don’t know these stories, these places …”

Photius laughed, surprising Javor. “Javor, do you not realize how extraordinary you are?” Javor didn’t understand. “My lad, you have killed a fearsome monster, wounded a dragon—only the most powerful creature on this earth, I must point out—defeated I don’t know how many barbarians, without suffering more than a scratch? If there is any person who can help, Javor, it’s you!”

Javor felt his head spin.
Me? A warrior? The hope of mankind in a battle against Hell? No, it’s not possible. The old man is crazy.

But I need him. I have no idea where I am, and he knows the dangers. So I have no choice but to stay with him.

“
Come on, lad. It’s time we continued.” He rose, and with Javor, continued on the road south-west.

As the shadows started to grow longer, Javor decided to speak his mind. “Do you want to hear what I think, Photius? I’ll tell you something has been bothering me for a long time.”

“
What is it, my boy?” Photius didn’t break stride, and didn’t even look at Javor, but he knew he had the mysterious old man’s full attention.

Javor found it difficult to express what he felt. “I’ve never been away from my house until now, not for more than a few days. Once, my father took me on a hunting trip, in the autumn with my older brother before he … he died. We were gone for three nights. We didn’t go far. And then we came back to my village and my mother and my house.”

“
How long ago was that, lad?” Photius asked gently.

Javor thought about it. “Maybe three years ago.”

“
And how old was your brother?”

“
Three years older than me.”

“
What was his name?”

“
Swat, like our father. He was always thin, always small. I remember my mother giving him extra bread all the time and urging him to eat.” The memories rushed behind his eyes, the words started to rush out of his mouth without his control. Javor’s eyes burned and vision blurred. “He didn’t make it through the winter. The pestilence came to our village and one night, he began to cough. He coughed up blood. My sister tried to help him until she started to cough, too.” Javor’s face was wet. He had to stop walking because he couldn’t see the way anymore. “Then one night, when the fire was very small because we couldn’t dig enough firewood out of the snow, he … he stopped coughing.” Javor sat, or rather nearly collapsed and was surprised to feel sobs wracking his shoulders. He dropped his pack to the ground, then fell forward, face buried in his hands, tears streaming through his fingers, and simply cried for a long time.

Eventually, he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard Photius’ voice beside his ear. “I’m sorry about your brother, Javor. I’m sorry for your parents, too.”

Javor tried to focus on the older man’s face, blurred by tears. “All my other brothers and sisters have died! I am the last!”

“
How many brothers and sisters did you have, Javor?” Photius asked in a strange tone.

“
I had four brothers and two sisters! And they all died.” Javor took a deep, shuddering breath. “Most of them I never saw. Four died before I was born. And one of the girls was born dead.”

“
Six children, you say?” Photius seemed seized by some idea. “And you’re the youngest? That explains much.” Javor wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Tell me, did your father have six brothers, too?”

“
Huh? I don’t know. Maybe. All but one of my uncles died …”

“
Of course, you could not know. Still, the seventh son …”

“
What does that mean?”

Photius seemed exasperated. “You are the seventh son! That signifies great fortune—it has been said that the seventh son has powers to heal and to ward off evil. But the seventh son of a seventh son has a powerful, very important destiny.”

“
Destiny? This is my destiny? To have my family killed and to have to follow an old man who does nothing but speak riddles across a haunted wilderness, dodging monsters?”

“
Few in this world ever have the destiny they would ask for, Javor. But someone like you has already shown that you have the power to change it.”

“
I don’t want to hear about destiny. I want to find a place to live where I can get away from dragons and monsters and just have some peace.”

Photius nodded. “Then, let us to Constantinople.”

At sunset, they found a spot a little way from the road where a leaning tree provided shelter from eyes above them. They built a little campfire, cooked a little food, and then Photius cast his usual spell to hide them, and they took turns sleeping through the night.

Photius woke Javor before dawn, motioning him to be quiet. They gathered their meagre camp and at Photius’ signal crept quietly to the edge of the road, hiding under overhanging pine boughs.  Everything was wet with dew and Javor started to shiver. He wanted to ask what Photius was doing, but he hushed the younger man fiercely.

Before the sun rose, they heard horses’ hooves clattering on the roadway. The noise drew closer, and then they saw a group of riders on big dark horses cantering westward on the road. The horses were dark brown or black, and all the riders were covered with long, dark capes and hoods. They swept past the two men hiding beside the road and disappeared around a curve.

Photius waited until the sun was well over the horizon before coming out of hiding. Javor was grateful to be able to straighten his back. “Why did you hide from those men?”

Photius was staring down the road. “Because I didn’t know who they were.”

“
You’ve spoken to plenty of strangers before!”

“
Yes, villagers. But never a group of armed horsemen, riding at night toward an abandoned city!” He started down the road. “Riding horseback in the dark is difficult and dangerous, Javor. What would drive a group of men to do that? They must be desperate. And desperate strangers are best stayed away from.”

“
Then why are we following them?”

“
Good question.” Photius strode on. He took two apples from his pack and gave one to Javor. “We are going this way, because our destination is this way. We need to get to the borders of the Empire, and this road is the fastest way now.”

They walked in silence then as the day grew hot. Birds twittered, and the leaves were the darkest green that Javor had ever seen. After a few hours, stone walls rose ahead of them. “Porolissum,” said Photius, and he led Javor off the road into the forest. For the rest of the day they pushed their way through the thick bush, up and down slippery slopes and splashing through small, swift-running streams. The ground grew steeper, and as the light failed, Javor took his bow and shot a rabbit. They made camp, ate, and slept turn and turn again that night.

The next day was more of the same: pushing through the bush, hunting and gathering as they went, but as the sun got low in the sky they emerged from the forest onto—

“
Another road!” exclaimed Javor.

“
The same road,” explained Photius. “We have cut across a wide bend, and avoided two old Roman towns.”

“
Why avoid the towns?”

“
Porolissum was abandoned centuries ago,” said Photius, who was looking for another place to camp for the night. “I don’t know who, or what, lives there now. But it’s best to avoid such places in this land.”

A new pattern emerged: for days, they walked alongside the road, forcing their way through thick forest. It was tough going: the forest was old and overgrown, and it seemed that all the bushes bore long thorns. Photius entered clearings only when they were well screened from the road. He wouldn’t let Javor shoot any of the deer they saw in the evenings or early mornings. “They are sacred to a god that lives in this land,” he said mysteriously.

“
What are you talking about? You’ve never shown fear of any gods before!”  But the old man refused to explain any more. So they ate rabbit, squirrel or birds, when they could catch them.

Whenever possible, Photius chose a campsite under oak trees; he had an inexplicable faith in their protective powers. They woke before sunrise, and ate very little. They drank from streams when they found wholesome waters, and Photius warned Javor away from many of the berries they encountered. Javor felt hungry almost all the time, even after a meal of a rabbit or squirrel.

They walked as far as they could until the nights were so dark, they could barely see ahead of them; only then Photius would allow them to rest, sleeping one at a time while the other kept watch. But he wouldn’t say what he was watching for. He allowed no fires, except for cooking, and extinguished them as soon as the cooking was done.

Occasionally, they passed ruins of walls and towers, crumbling, sad, sinister. Photius gave them wide berth.

At least once each day, they heard the horses galloping on the road to their right. Photius would make Javor crouch low in thick bushes and wait until the sounds passed. But they never saw the horses or men, nor did they hear any voices.