Soldiers of Legend Page 13

  “There are other people around here to do that, you know,” Aiden pointed out to the little girl, as he accepted the plate of cheese and toasted bread, lathered with butter.

  “But my Dad said I could,” she protested, her confident veneer cracking at the slightest problem. Aiden understood then that Tom had put her to work because serving people was what she knew, and it kept her from thinking about the horrors she had witnessed of late.

  “Well, he knows what he’s talking about,” Aiden relented as he began to eat. “I mean, you’re probably better at this than anyone else I know, actually.”

  “Thank you, Aiden,” she said, lighting up at the compliment.

  “It was very brave of you to walk up to the dragon back in town,” Aiden continued, curiously. “You weren’t scared of it like the other children?”

  “He saved us from the bad men,” Aislin replied. “Why would I be scared? He’s so sleek and shiny, I couldn’t resist.”

  “He is at that,” Aiden agreed with a tired grin. Without further prompting, Aislin darted off into the crowd to continue helping out, her confidence bolstered by the memory of her encounter with Spartan. “Little victories,” Aiden muttered to himself, hoping for a few minutes to let his mind relax after the events of the day.

  The background noise was almost soothing, although there was still an undercurrent of tension in the voices of the refugees. Glancing over, his eye was caught by the sight of Criosa sitting on a large couch, almost obscured by a small crowd of children snuggled up against her. Her golden hair shone in the dim firelight, and when she happened to look over to Aiden there was a gleam of contentment in her sleepy eyes.

  He gave her a knowing smile as she shrugged helplessly, trapped for the night lest she awaken the little ones. It was a cosy scene that made Aiden’s eyelids heavy, and his thoughts turned to finding a place to lie down for the night. He briefly considered his parent’s house, but he had no wish to replay the scene from his last visit. He’d take a small space of floor at the inn rather than face them again.

  “I’ve half a mind to get back out there and hunt those bastards down,” Robert grumbled as he stormed inside, interrupting Aiden’s line of thought. He headed straight for the bar, where Pacian had already found himself a seat. He was sipping a large tankard of ale while staring in contemplation at his shining vythiric dagger on the polished surface of the bar.

  “You’d never find them anyway,” Pacian counselled without taking his eyes off the weapon.

  “Maybe, but it’s the principle of the thing. They did a runner on my watch, but I’ll be damned if I knew how they managed it.”

  “There were dozens of them,” Pacian said. “There’s no way we could have kept an eye on everyone at every waking moment. Forget about them — we’ve got bigger problems.”

  “I suppose,” Robert grunted. “They’ll get justice, sooner or later.”

  Pacian remained silent, but looked over at Aiden with a blank expression as he continued to toy with his dagger. Aiden went cold as he spied some blood on the weapon’s blade, and the mystery of the missing prisoners suddenly wasn’t so mysterious. Overcome with a need to be away from everyone else, Aiden slowly got back on his feet and headed upstairs to find a place to sleep, so he could put the grisly work behind him.

  * * *

  Aiden awoke just after dawn the next morning to the sounds of snoring men. The Sleeping Bear was overcrowded, so people were being unceremoniously crammed into rooms in order to accommodate everyone. Having used his bedroll on the floor of the room, Aiden had been comfortable enough, though his sleep was plagued with nightmares of blood and daggers in the night.

  The question was not ‘if’, but how Pacian had managed to kill those men. They were enemies of the Crown, and criminals as well if Pacian’s insight was anything to go by. Aiden wasn’t certain how he could justify murdering captive men, regardless of their crimes.

  Quietly gathering up his gear, he crept downstairs to the far more pleasant sight of Criosa asleep on the couch, her head reclined against the cushions and a half-dozen sleeping children still gathered around her. The rest of the common room was similarly occupied, and although people were starting to move about in the morning light, Aiden stood contemplating the young woman and allowed her beauty to banish his bad dreams. It was a guilty pleasure, yet he couldn’t help himself.

  Aiden took his breakfast at the bar and waited for his companions to awaken while the locals started to arrange more permanent accommodation for their guests. Pacian seemed to be his usual self when he came downstairs to eat, and Aiden found himself watching his old friend from time to time, pondering if he should broach the subject with him. Ultimately, without hard evidence, the accusation might serve to divide up his friends once more, and this was hardly the time or place to do that. He resolved to keep a close eye on Pacian in the near future.

  It was well over an hour later, after everyone else had eaten, that they finally had time to speak of things privately, just outside the rear entrance to the inn.

  “You appeared quite content, sleeping amongst all those children,” Nellise remarked to Criosa with a faint smile on her face.

  “It was not unpleasant,” she replied shyly. “I asked you all out here to talk about something of far greater importance. Fate has led us here, and I had plenty of time last night to consider the opportunity that has been presented to us.”

  “What are you talking about?” Pacian asked suspiciously.

  “The Akorans,” Criosa explained. “Their lands are a day’s journey to the south of here and I feel we should seek their aid for the imminent confrontation.” Silence reigned as her words sank in, and Aiden glanced at Nellise and Sayana to see predictably tense expressions on their faces. Both women had experienced traumas at the hands of the tribal folk during the course of their lives, and Aiden expected their answers to be weighted accordingly.

  “Don’t all respond at once,” Criosa murmured.

  “When your father suggested speaking with the Akoran tribes during the meeting back in Fairloch,” Aiden ventured cautiously, “I don’t think he was being entirely genuine. I believe he was simply trying to convey how desperate things were becoming.”

  “All the more reason for us to meet with them,” Criosa countered. “Look, I know about what happened between you the last time you went to their lands, and I’m not unsympathetic. But they have new leadership now, and if there is a chance they would be willing to assist Aielund in the fight, I need to investigate.”

  “They bear no love for the people of Aielund,” Nellise offered grimly. “Were it not for our intervention, a large number of their warriors would have pillaged their way across Bracksfordshire with no remorse. Nor are they mercenaries — there is little you can offer to entice them to join our cause.”

  “There is a strong feeling of disdain seething beneath the surface,” Sayana added. “Their lands have slowly been taken from them over the centuries, and many would enjoy watching Aielund burn. I don’t think there is as much opportunity for an alliance as you might think.”

  “All of that was true a century ago and they still came to our aid when asked, so I will try anyway,” Criosa insisted. “Should they prove hostile, I believe you are all more than a match for whatever they could throw at you.”

  I doubt it would come to that, Spartan’s voice spoke in their minds. They turned to see the dragon snaking his way through the trees, his hide reflecting the greenery around him making him very difficult to spot through the morning mist.

  “We’re having a private conversation here,” Robert hinted bluntly to Spartan.

  Then perhaps you should have chosen a place with a little more privacy.

  “You have an opinion, oh glorious leader?” Aiden drawled as the dragon stood before them.

  I overheard you speak of a need for allies — I know some people who might be interested in an exchange of services.

  “You’re not certain?” Aiden asked.

  Th
ey are an unpredictable people, Spartan explained. I cannot make guarantees, but if you are willing, I can arrange a meeting.

  “Who exactly are we talking about here?” Robert inquired with undisguised suspicion.

  It would be hard to explain with mere words. As with many things in life, you will need to see with your own eyes.

  “Your timing is a little too perfect to believe you happened to mention this on a whim,” Robert growled.

  “Who exactly are you referring to?” Criosa asked.

  I have sworn not to reveal the location or even the existence of my associates to anyone, and I am in danger of violating that oath even with what I have told you thus far. I can only say that my knowledge of worldly matters is greater than you think, and the people I speak of in such roundabout terms are worth your time. Criosa pondered this, and then looked to Nellise for advice.

  “Give me a moment,” she replied, her eyes becoming unfocused as she sought divine aid to their odd dilemma. After a few moments, the cleric looked with astonishment at Spartan, who merely stood there awaiting their response.

  “What is it?” Aiden asked curiously.

  “He speaks the truth,” she breathed, “but there is more to this matter than even he knows.”

  Such is the way of those I represent, Spartan muttered. Ever are they mired in secrets and plots. Yet on this matter, they are resolute — a meeting is what they asked for, though the results will be entirely up to you. Do I have your answer? Everyone looked to Criosa for her response.

  “I can’t very well pass up an opportunity to gain a valuable ally,” she mused. “Are they far?”

  We should be there before nightfall, if we leave soon, Spartan replied.

  “Then we will meet with your ‘associates’, and see where it leads from there,” she answered.

  Excellent, the dragon purred. Gather your equipment and meet me here in twenty minutes. Leave your horses, for we are travelling into the Cairnwood where such creatures are more of a burden than benefit. Spartan vanished into his surroundings as the group broke up to gather their things.

  By the time they set out, lumberjacks were already hauling back their first load of wood for the day, having started their work at the crack of dawn. Spartan remained invisible to them, expertly gliding through the trees with his camouflaged hide keeping him obscured from the locals.

  Pacian, who had always been more popular around town, struck up a quick conversation with one of the passing workmen whom he recognised and received some unexpected news.

  “Sorry to hear about the death of your father, Pace,” a lantern-jawed older man with thinning grey hair named Jacob Peters said. “Bryce had a troubled life, to be sure, but I wouldn’t wish that sort of death on anyone. He will be missed.” Pacian froze in place, staring back at Jacob with a stunned expression on his features.

  “When… how did it happen?” he asked heavily, swallowing hard.

  “You didn’t know?” Jacob blurted. “I’m so sorry, Pace, I thought you’d have heard. Yeah, he drank himself to death a few weeks ago. He’d always been a heavy drinker but he seemed to double his efforts of late. If you want to know more, you’d best head to the chapel and speak with the priest. I have to keep moving mate, but again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thanks Jacob, I’ll look into it,” Pacian replied, clapping the old man on the shoulder as he went past.

  “Are you okay?” Nellise asked softly, rubbing Pacian on the back in a comforting manner.

  “We can remain here for an hour or so if you want to pay your respects,” Criosa offered. Pacian’s mood had been one of shock, but as the princess spoke, he seemed to shrug it off.

  “No, I’m not going to hold up something of this importance just to cry over his mouldy corpse,” he answered. “The stupid bastard couldn’t stop drinking to save his own life, and I’m not going to shed one bloody tear over his death. Let’s just keep moving.”

  Criosa looked at him dubiously and exchanged a brief glance with Nellise, who exhibited the sort of concern one has for a loved one going through a difficult time. Aiden shared their apparent doubts as to his course of action, but it was his choice, after all. They didn’t speak of it again as they continued on their way, although Aiden made sure to keep an eye on Pacian as they travelled.

  After some time, Aiden’s sense of homespun calm slowly began to diminish. Although the fields east of Coldstream were still buried under snow, the undulating landscape was all too familiar to him. They gradually closed on the distant tree-line and Aiden’s mind was flooded with the memories of running through the long grass all those years ago.

  In many ways, it was his first memory, for he had lost most of his early experiences when Salinder had saved his life on the high plains of Akora, months ago. Combined with the repeated dreams of this event, Aiden felt like he was walking through his own mind, detached from the reality of the moment. A soft touch on his arm brought him back from his daydreaming, and he turned to see Criosa looking up at him with concern.

  “I’m fine, I’m just remembering things from years ago,” Aiden assured her, unsure of how to go about relating the strange experiences of his youth. He was touched by her concern though.

  The stumps of fallen trees dotted the landscape long before they reached the tree line, and Aiden realised they had already passed the point of entering the forest. The landscape had changed over the years, and he was immediately on his guard. Pacian seemed equally nervous, but Spartan continued onward confidently, wending his way through the thickening boughs of the Cairnwood without concern.

  “There it is,” Pacian said to Aiden a few minutes later, pointing to mound of dirt at the base of one of the trees. Aiden nodded silently, taking a moment to walk over to the place where he had fallen. He hadn’t been back here since he’d been pulled out of the hole, and mixed feelings stirred within his chest.

  “Why are you looking at that pile of dirt?” Criosa asked curiously.

  “It used to be a hole, but was filled in to prevent anyone else falling through,” Aiden explained, his thoughts going to a very dark place.

  “Anyone else…” she repeated. “I presume you fell in at some point?”

  “Yes, and there’s plenty more of these death-traps dotted all over the forest,” Aiden warned. “I hope you know where you’re going, Spartan.”

  I do, and I know the location of every single one of these artificial caves, so you needn’t worry about falling to your deaths, the dragon explained. Follow behind me in single file. Step where I step, and you will all be quite safe. Come, we still have a long way to go. Filled with doubts and dark memories, Aiden reluctantly followed, with the rest of his companions falling into step behind him.

  Chapter Eight

  The forest became more densely packed as the minutes turned into hours, with fewer tree stumps to remind them of their proximity to human civilisation. Scattered sunlight filtered through the thick canopy above, and the sounds of wildlife became louder and more frequent as they journeyed deep into the forest.

  True to his word, Spartan led them on a winding path through the trees, avoiding any sign of hidden caves or other treacherous terrain underfoot. At one point, they came to a large crevasse twenty feet across which split the earth for a hundred yards in either direction. Vines and roots could be seen poking out of the walls of the chasm, but upon looking closer, the distinct gleam of a metal structure could be seen amongst the dirt and stone.

  “What is this place?” Sayana breathed, gazing down into the depths in wonder.

  All will be revealed, Spartan explained impatiently. Aiden couldn’t see the bottom of the artificial chasm, and exchanged a dark look with Pacian — rumours of the dangers of the forest were evidently not unfounded.

  “I told you years ago it was a dangerous place,” Aiden muttered to his old friend.

  “You would have to be blind to have fallen down this one, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Pacian chided him, showing no signs of gri
ef from his recent loss. “There’s probably a dozen or more hidden ones we’ve passed that would have killed us both before we ever got this far.”

  “That doesn’t really make me feel any better,” Aiden replied. Spartan spread his wings and flew over the chasm, alighting on the other side before turning to observe them. There was a massive fallen tree which formed a rudimentary bridge to the other side, not far from where Spartan landed.

  It was safe, though that didn’t stop them from walking across it very cautiously anyway. Small creatures skittered across the thick trunk, scurrying out of the way of the interlopers passing overhead. After crossing the log without incident, Aiden noticed a change in the forest, as if they had just passed some sort of border.

  As they continued onward, they were astonished by the beauty of the deep forest around them. The leaves seemed to be a more vibrant green, and the trees themselves towered into the sky, ancient beyond knowing. Butterflies danced across wildflowers that grew in-between the massive trees, and sunlight streamed through the boughs in shafts of golden brilliance.

  No human has ever ventured this far into the Cairnwood, the dragon informed them. The inner forest was protected against such incursions, centuries ago, but the defenders of this place have slept through recent decades. The collapsing underground structures in the western forest perform that duty now, though with far less subtlety or finesse.

  The greater implications of what was just said were lost on Aiden as he slowly walked through the forest, which felt like a sliver from an earlier, simpler time before humans had encroached upon the natural world. Glancing over at Criosa, Aiden saw her more entranced by the scene than any of them. After a moment, she noticed his attention and blushed, seeking to regain her composure.

  “This forest is beautiful,” she said in a hushed voice. “It’s so very romantic.”