Silent Requiem (Tales of Ashkar Book 3) Page 2

  At first, the bounty hunter’s spontaneous intrusions had been quite the thorn at Graeme’s side, but after a while they were almost endearing. At the very least, if someone was going to barge into his room uninvited, their entrance should be gaudy.

  Graeme sighed. “Do you expect me to look at the pain of what’s to come and smile?”

  “Is there anythin’ ya can do ‘bout it?” asked the sly informant in between chewing on a blade of grass. Darius’s long coat shifted in the wind as he changed his footing.

  “Shouldn’t there be?” Graeme responded.

  “Yer asking the wrong guy that question,” shrugged Darius as he pointed up at the sky.

  “Liberty’s order puts their faith in God,” Graeme reminded.

  The bounty hunter shrugged again. “That’s their version.”

  Graeme gave the other man a look of incredulity. “Everyone bleeds red.”

  “I hear even non-elementalists are being enlisted,” Darius said, abruptly changing the subject. “By the stars above, even boys past twelve ages! Boys who have never held a sharpened blade or polished armor. In every sector I see blacksmiths and armorers working non-stop, forging weapons that carry no elementals.”

  Another sigh escaped Graeme’s lips. “It was you who told us of the magnitude of Liberty’s forces. He’s rallied the entire continent of Onturi, and his numbers far exceed ours, do they not?”

  “Roughly five-to-one,” affirmed Darius.

  “Then, we’ve no choice but to have any soul that can hold a blade,” started Graeme, “elementalist or not.”

  The bounty hunter nodded. “I don’t disagree, but maybe yer looking to the wrong people. Ever heard of Raxxil the Volcano?”

  “I’ve studied the Order of the Faith’s history, if that’s what you’re asking,” Graeme answered.

  “Looks like he’s in town,” explained Darius.

  Graeme raised a brow at the other man. “The job isn’t finished, then. A phantom will stay a phantom until karma smiles. Excuse me, but the hour approaches for me to meet with the other leaders.” He turned away after receiving a nod from Darius and headed across the room to the door that led to the tower’s staircase.

  “The cycle continues,” spoke Samsara inside Graeme’s mind for the first time in a while.

  _ _ _

  Samantha looked down at her distorted reflection in the turbulent waters of Lake Legren where children splashed about and skipped rocks.

  God would not condone any of this. He wouldn’t call for such wanton bloodshed.

  “You bring me here to ask me to cut down the faithful?” she asked to Raxxil, who stared at her with fierce eyes. “Nay, you ask me to raise my sword against another human, one who has not wronged?”

  Inside, she knew that her words were feeble grasps at futile hope, that somehow what was coming was not truly meant to happen, and if it was, it was for divine purpose. A purpose that she could not see in the actions of the Order of the Faith.

  The last time that she had stepped foot in the Delenar Promenade in the middle of Arcadia, Samantha had found it quiet and serene. Of course, the last time that she was here, war wasn’t about to break out. The four sectors were scrambling to prepare. The streets seemed to be overrun tenfold by armored soldiers and hapless dregs who hadn’t the slightest of what it meant to be an elementalist—nor what a full-scale war of them was like.

  The promenade was hardly any different. Many gathered for what could be the last time, gazing at the blue waters or the bright sky. Families spent as much time together before the able-bodied were conscripted and the others were evacuated.

  Some faces were wet with tears, others flushed in anger. Some of the younger children—none the wiser of the horrors about to ensue—smiled as they played, and no one had the heart to tell them the truth. The entire kingdom was in disarray.

  And her soul mirrored it all the same.

  “You can’t be serious?!” bellowed Raxxil in disbelief. “They sail to this land as we speak, and their hands will not be unsteady when they cut swaths through anything that stands in their way—through you. And still your heart teeters?”

  Not only did Raxxil’s eyes bore into Samantha, but so did Arwynn’s, who stood behind the much larger man. While Raxxil did so in fiery passion, the young woman’s judgment was more akin to disgust, though her tongue was still.

  Not that it mattered, for Arwynn’s baleful glare spoke all that Samantha needed to hear.

  “When Arcadia lies in ruin, how will you feel then?” pressed Raxxil. “Liberty will do anything to win. Whatever the cost, and whoever pays for it, it makes no difference to your Faith.”

  Samantha returned Raxxil’s skeptical look. “Your heart might burn, Raxxil, but not for this kingdom. You’re just here to quell your thirst for revenge, aren’t you?”

  “We’ve no time for your petty indecisiveness,” interjected Arwynn, speaking for the first time. “You’re not fit to join us. It’s obvious.” She then looked at Raxxil somberly. “I wish Serraemas and Erendil were here…”

  “Me too,” Raxxil muttered as he looked down at his feet with soft eyes.

  Once again, the young woman gave a less-than-pleasant cursory glance at Samantha. “Even Erendil was more resolute. Can we leave now?”

  “Oh, my,” echoed Kavem within her mind. “That girl has eyes like daggers, and an even sharper tongue.”

  “What do you mean?” Samantha asked, shifting her attention to Raxxil. “Where are the others?”

  Raxxil’s eyes stayed where they were, and he took a deep breath. “Not anywhere that you want to be, so you’re coming with us.”

  Samantha furrowed her brows. “What are you—?”

  A powerful hand gripped her upper arm tightly, and Samantha was pulled against her will behind Raxxil and his wake.

  _ _ _

  Graeme found himself gathered in the Arcadian Command Center next to the other three leaders of the vast kingdom—an occurrence that, as of late, had been as frequent as the cycle of day.

  “How are your numbers looking?” asked the Master Ranger.

  Cad leaned forward and slammed his fists on top of the large table where they were gathered, nearly knocking over the array of pieces strewn about the map that represented strategic placements. The bearded man brought his head low and growled. “Twenty-thousand, maybe more.”

  Guy then looked over at Laralen, who was sitting quietly and elegantly.

  “About the same,” answered the veri. “I would say not even half that number are properly trained elementalists, and that also includes non-elementalists or young men who haven’t lifted a single sword in their lives.”

  Three pairs of eyes turned to Graeme.

  “I mustered as many as I could,” lamented the Grand Arcanist. “We’ve only a few hundred master-level elementalists. The rest are either students or alumni.”

  Guy shook his head and muttered a curse.

  “How many did your… informant say was under Liberty?” asked Laralen.

  “Liberty was able to inspire nearly the entire continent of Onturi to his cause,” explained Graeme. “I don’t know how, but he did. Maybe hundreds of thousands.”

  “Maybe?” Cad asked. “Not even you believe that scoundrel. How do you expect us to?”

  Graeme shook his head. “No, I believe him. And he’s not a scoundrel. I’m just not sure why he is helping us.”

  “It’s no matter,” said Laralen as he rose from his seat. The veri placed a finger on the map of Arcadia, just to the east of where the city was drawn. “We can’t let them even reach the gates.”

  Srdiv nodded. “We set up a preliminary defense at Banton Beach. Just a few thousand of my bowman and Graeme’s best. We’ll take out as many boats as we can before they find shore, then retreat to Fort Bellford where our main forces are situated. That’s where we stop them.”

  “I will gather elementalists who specialize in long-ranged attacks,” Graeme said. “Along with the Grand Master Magus and
myself, we should be able to deal a significant blow to their first wave of vessels. If we can thin their numbers before…”

  Graeme paused, the sound of a commotion from the opposite side of the door at the far wall capturing his attention. The guard standing outside yelled a few unintelligible words before the door burst open and a slew of figures jumbled in, most notably a man of large stature wielding a hammer at the forefront. Behind him were two women, one who Graeme recognized and one who he didn’t.

  The guard, who was left behind the group, jumped in front and saluted at the four leaders. “My sincerest apologies, but they barged in uninvited despite my requests.”

  The four leaders of Arcadia looked at each other and shook their heads.

  “Is it just me or does this keep happening?” asked Graeme aloud to no one in particular.

  Guy scoffed. “I think we ought to find a replacement.”

  “You’re intruding on important matters,” barked Cad, moving toward the group of newcomers. “We’ve no time to spare for your counsel, so leave at once.” He stopped just in front of the hammer-wielding man, who held a face of unbridled determination.

  “Look, old man,” started the impetuous intruder, “We’re here because—”

  Cad’s fist flew at the man’s face without warning.

  To Graeme’s surprise the attack never landed, for Cad’s fist connected with the hammer-wielder’s open palm. Cad also seemed surprise that his attack had failed to reach its target, and he reeled back his other arm—

  “Cad, stop!” bellowed Graeme.

  It was not by command that Cad paused, but respect. He glared at the man who he was locked in combat with, jerked his hand away, and then took a step back.

  What was most unusual was that the hammer-wielder had not taken the violent gesture as an affront, but rather the opposite. His toothy grin revealed that fact all too clearly, as if he would not have it any other way.

  “So, you decided not to flee?” asked Graeme, directing the question at Samantha.

  All eyes shifted to the older of the two women, and Graeme could have sworn that she began to perspire immediately. It was a bold statement to still be within the kingdom just before the start of a war—a war with a nation that she had represented thus far.

  Bold, or just plain foolish.

  Samantha shifted nervously. “I… uh… I’m not sure—”

  “She is going to fight against the Order of the Faith,” interrupted the hammer-wielder, garnering a slew of surprised reactions.

  “A traitor then?” spat Cad, who seemed to be ready to jump into another altercation. “How shame—”

  “No,” interrupted the hammer-wielder once more. “This isn’t treason, it is simply a matter of waking the hell up.”

  “And who might you be?” Laralen asked with narrowed eyes.

  “Raxxil,” answered the hammer-wielder simply.

  So you were right, Darius. How sly of you.

  “Please, tell us why you’ve sought our attention,” Graeme said. “But be quick, then make your leave. We’ve much to prepare for and must do so without constant interruption.”

  Raxxil nodded at Graeme, then looked at the other leaders. “We will fight alongside with you, but ask that you offer amnesty to Samantha when all is said and done, and allow her to continue living in Arcadia.”

  “When all is said and done, how do you know that Arcadia will still stand?” asked Guy with his lips pressed together.

  The hammer-wielder grew stern. “I will make sure of that.”

  “Such hubris,” commented Cad with a grin.

  “Sounds familiar,” Guy said, eliciting a passionate reaction from Cad. “But really, you seem mighty confident to leap into the jaws of death.”

  “This man has a history with the Order of the Faith,” announced Graeme.

  The other three perked up at the statement, most notably Laralen. “Oh, I wasn’t aware of that.”

  Graeme nodded. “If the history is truthful, then I would argue that it’s best if you did not join us directly in battle. But, I do believe that we could use all the help that we can get. Your thoughts?”

  “We’ll figure something out,” responded Raxxil with a grin, “and believe me, I wouldn’t want to be next to your forces either.”

  “Is that all?” asked Cad impatiently.

  The hammer-wielder paused for a moment, looking at Cad as if to say something inciting, but decided not to. He then turned to Graeme. “How long until Liberty’s forces arrive?”

  “Within the month,” answered Graeme. “Be ready for it.”

  With one last nod, Raxxil turned and headed for the door. The other two with him followed suit, and it wasn’t long before the four leaders were alone again. They all turned to each other and exchanged glances.

  “Any guesses on how many more strange warriors are going to find their way in here?” asked Guy as he scratched his red scruff.

  “Cad, perhaps a new set of guards?” Laralen inquired. “This is your sector, after all. Perhaps veri instead of humans?”

  “Don’t get sharp with me, Ohrl’han,” lashed Cad. It seemed that his hot blood had nowhere to go, and he was looking for any avenue to unleash it.

  “Against these odds, do we really have a chance?” asked Graeme. With every bit of news that Darius reported, the light within Graeme had grown dimmer by the day. With that strange non-elementalist—and now Raxxil the Volcano—offering their loyalty, it would seem that Arcadia would continue to stand.

  And even if it does, how many lives will have to perish? What if the prophecy is false, would all this blood be spilled for a lie?

  “We have no choice,” answered Cad. “Once this meeting is over, I will ride to the Tokkan Peaks and try to convince any of my people that had decided to stay behind to fight for us.”

  “Will your daughter agree to such a gesture?” Graeme asked as he folded his arms across his chest. “She replaced you as Avanos of the Tokkan Peaks, after all. After you nearly forced her into it.”

  Cad glared at Graeme. “She understands the sacrifice that I made for Arcadia.”

  “Now she does,” Graeme corrected. “When you left to come here all those years ago she didn’t.”

  “It makes no difference,” Cad said as he looked down at the table. “The Avanos must stay in the Tokkan Peaks, but any other can come and fight for Arcadia should they wish. She will not stop those who seek to do so.”

  “Any word from the other kingdoms?” Graeme continued as he looked to the others.

  “Southern Arcadia is in disarray, as usual,” Guy explained. “I don’t believe we’ll be getting much support from them.”

  Graeme shook his head in disbelief. “They still cannot find stability?”

  “Political unrest,” said Guy. “Each regime that climbs to the top just gets toppled before it can find a footing.”

  “What about the Asmani?” Graeme asked again, but he already had an inkling as to what the answer would be.

  Laralen shook his head. “They refuse to step into a conflict between two human nations.”

  “If they stepped in, this war would surely be won…” lamented the Graeme.

  “Do not fret, Graeme,” Laralen assured. “We united against the dommogin, the seamenders did not break us, and we will not fall here.”

  “We didn’t fight humans,” countered Graeme.

  Laralen sighed. “And what if my people attacked us. Would you feel differently then, as well?”

  Graeme wrapped a hand around the top of the empty chair next to him and squeezed hard. “Forgive me, Laralen, but I fear that our soldiers will have more difficulty in this case.”

  “When they come slashing and blazing,” whispered Cad, looking down at nothing in particular and absorbed in recollection, “it won’t matter who’s doing the killing.”

  “You’re right,” Graeme said.

  If we tear the world apart first, will the prophecy even matter?

  Chapter 2

&nbs
p; 206th Dawn of the 5010th Age of Lion

  Sanjin watched the waves as they crashed against the hull of the sailing vessel. Alongside Mellin, the two had traveled east on horseback from where she had encountered Serraemas toward Dole’oelle, a port on the east coast of central Ashkar.

  While most ports in human lands were inhabited and run by humans, Dole’oelle had a large kivu population. The Kivu, who primarily live on a collection of islands off the eastern coast of Ashkar called the Central Isles, didn’t spread much to other lands and continents. In this case, however, the port was rather close to their home and had established an effective trade between the two races.

  After commissioning a ship, Sanjin’s eyes looked northward to Makka. While she was unable to deliver the true justice that Serraemas and the others deserved, she would at least be able to report to the other Blue Swords of her success in tracking them down. From there, they could formulate another plan.

  “Here’s your milk,” she heard from behind. “Don’t ask me how I got it.”

  Sanjin turned to face Mellin, and as he shoved the cup in her face he nearly spilled it all over her. Snatching it from his hands, she brought it to her lips and took a sip. The liquid was refreshing, both to her thirsty tongue and her yearning body.

  “How is it?” he asked.

  “It’s good, thanks,” replied Sanjin.

  Behind Mellin was the deck of the vessel. Cargo was fastened, masts towered high, and sails were open wide. There were several dozen crewmen milling about, tending to whatever required their attention. The ship weaved back-and-forth on the high seas, ebbing and flowing just like the Vical Ocean upon which it traveled.

  “I don’t want to be a downer,” began Mellin, “but I can’t deny that I’m a bit worried that we haven’t heard from Enept-Ihs at all. I mean, nothing in the slightest. How many Bluebirds did we send?”

  “Just two,” answered Sanjin, her gaze now up at the floating clouds above.

  Will I ever be able to sleep again?

  “One, maybe I’m not going to sweat it too much,” Mellin said. “But two? I’m not the crazy one here, am I?”

  “I don’t know,” shrugged Sanjin. “Have you had your nap yet?”