The sun rose over the western glenns from behind the Eastern Icanii Peaks, piercing the frosty veil of winters night that hung over the Valley of Edal. With a freezing fog rolling down the flanks of the hills and into the village of Risvale, the central square palisade and its stone buildings were obscured by the dawn haze.
The sounding of several Roosters roused the village and people finally began to stir. The earliest of risers first, the woodsmen who would disappear into the hills for the day. The merchants for stall in market, the maids who serve at the manner, those that kept the village clean but were unseen and Rigurd. Who always rose early and strolled to his workshop, to spend the day with fire and hammer. The early morning bustle was enough to melt the snow from the paths and the tell-tale sign of activity almost cleared the air of that frosty haze. Allowing the golden light of the winter morning sun to blanket the village and begin to warm the air.
Arik woke to the sound of the rooster in the yard. Yawning whilst pushing himself upright, he swung his legs from the bed. His head was heavy and throbbed mildly. Muttering to himself
"Too much mead again, damn that Celenan. He makes it too fine." He pulled on a pair of tan hide leggings and a white linen shirt.
Then tied his hair in the traditional Icanii fashion. His limbs were leaden, shaking them off he persisted in a few simple stretches to limber up his lazy muscles. Then he stepped out of the house into the crisp pre-dawn snow. Looking toward the east he reasoned he had about an hour before his mother and sister were awake.
"Best get in some fun now before I have chores to take care of." He muttered softly and he set off north along the road at a steady jog. It was cold and he could already feel the snow through his black moccasins. Ignoring it he pushed on.
Shortly after setting off Arik increased his pace. Now running he glided up the north road, he flew past the central palisades of the village noting how odd they looked compared to the traditional roundhouses. After passing the last buildings on the north side of the village Arik could feel his muscles warming and the cold at his feet dissipating. So he veered west off the path and towards the slope of the closet tor, this took him into a think pine forest that covered the vast side of the enormous hill. Now having to vault fallen timber and duck under low hanging branches, the young soldier found the run a little more engaging and as the wood became thicker, he picked up the pace yet again.
With bracken and fern tick around his ankles and tree branches blocking his view he pushed on upwards, always keeping his pace he ducked and weaved. Emerging from the woodland a few hundred feet from the crest of the ridge, Arik felt the exhilaration of the cold winter wind filling his lungs, which were beginning to burn from the intensity of the woods. Veering south now Arik kept climbing the tor almost parallel to the ridge until he finally came to meet with it.
He could now see for leagues, the sweeping valleys of the glenns and the thick pine forests that blanketed them. Under the slowly emerging sun it was magnificent, Arik remembered the childhood sensation of running through the hills as high up as he could get. He had always loved running, now filled with a sense of nostalgic joy he sprinted the last few hundred paces to the summit before finally stopping, bowing and resting his hands on his knees.
While catching his breath the young man proceeded to stretch his limbs quite vigorously. Then he found flatter ground and began to practice stances and postures taught to him by the combat master. Hasain had been a brutal instructor, not in the sense of personality though. He had been kind and calm, but in fact the deadliest man Arik had ever known.
Remembering the gruelling training sessions, the young warrior felt himself find the state of calm that was so vital to the exercises. Breathing deeply and rhythmically he moved through the boxing stances, kicking stances and weapon stances allowing a sense of nothingness fall over him. Hasain had called this meditation. Upon completing the exercises and stretches Arik initiated a series of spins and flips that almost sliced the very air around him. His shirt was now wet from sweat and his arms glistened amber in the sunrise. Happy with his execution of martial art, Arik saw the suns position and realised it had been an hour already. He cursed.
He took the fastest way he knew back to the house. Albeit the most perilous, straight down was definitely faster.
Having to frequently jump and roll and vault his way down large inclines or across small ravines in the boulders. Though the route took concentration. Arik found his mind still wandered, keeping his descent steady he remembered how Hasain had told him emotions were the enemy in war. How one must attain calm and control ones breathing.
This was made strikingly clear during sparring bouts with the master. He would goad you, throw insults at you to make you angry. Then when a student flew into rage the humiliation would begin, first with disarmament as the match would not finish with that. Hasain would tease the student with sword for but a moment, then throw the weapon aside proclaiming.
"For one with as low as skill as you, I would be dishonoured for using steel!" always laughing too.
This undeniably had the desired effect; the students would charge off-balance and ill focused. To only be flattened in two swift steps. Arik laughed, he had liked Hasain the man was a genius and Arik had first thought him untouchable.
Though it was worth the pain, for shortly after finishing with Hasain he was selected for the 'Fangs' and it was that training which had kept him alive. Halfway down the tor Arik could see the village clearly, there was life and movement amongst the buildings. Even a few plumes of smoke starting to rise from the conical roofs. With less boulders and scree the descent became more forgiving, with his pace increasing towards home Arik found himself reminiscing the whole way.
When he had first been accepted to train under Hasain he was told to take up dance lessons first. This had infuriated the over-zealous young soldier, why must he learn to dance. He had only had six months in the city of Khare and he did not believe he could achieve two masteries in that time. He had approached Hasain, they had discussed Ariks limited time and Hasain had eventually granted Arik permission to conduct both tuitions simultaneously.
It had been the hardest six months of his life. Between duties on camp and tuition every evening he had been exhausted and he had swiftly realised why the dancing lessons were needed. Hasain had the grace of a cat, Arik had only beaten the man once in session. That was in the final week of Ariks posting to Khare and had subsequently been the final session.
"Boy in six months you have landed a single blow upon me. It would also have been mortal. Just remember Arik, experience counts for all. If you survive the next few years of duty I think not even I could best you."
Those words now sounded a chill in Arik. The following year had been one of blood and horror only since Arik had felt the foreshadowing of Hasain's words.
Swiftly approaching his family home, he could see the timber frame and weaved willow fence. Easing his pace, the young soldier pulled his mind from the past. Upon passing the main gate he saw his sister emerge from the house. She was carrying a heavy woollen towel.
"Brother, good morning. Quickly go wash yourself mother would not be pleased with your smell. Breakfast will be served soon." Nodding he gently took the towel from Ursla.
"Good morning sister! Thank you for the warning. I did not think you would be up so soon. It is rest day after all." Replied Arik.
"Aye Brother, but I must prepare breakfast and father, mother and yourself all rise early. Father might not eat, but I always hear him leave."
"Aye, but you don't have.." Arik was cut off by Ursla's right hand coming up and gesturing him to stop.
"No brother, you travelled for nine months. Mother has insisted, not that she needed to. That we must take care of you for now." Clearly holding back obvious sarcasm.
"Sister, this isn't some Inn and I need no coddling. I appreciate the gesture, but I will speak with mother." She looked a little retracted but quickly smiled.
"I wondered how long you would put up with it! I cannot see why a little travel makes you so fragile brother you look strong to me." she giggled.
Then without another word she spun on her heel and trotted back to the house. Arik sighed and strode towards the attached barn.
Inside he found the barrel bath basin. It was already filled with warm water, he smiled. Although mischievous Ursla was sweet, not the adoring young fan she was six years ago. But she now had better things to do that follow Arik around. He knew mother had forced her to dote. It had only taken a fortnight but Ursla's strategy of nagging incessantly had ultimately worked. Still, it had been nice to feel at home.
"Two whole weeks?" mused the young warrior as he removed his sweat drenched clothes and lowered himself into the basin.
The water was warm and Arik allowed the chill air to flow into his lungs, like needles on his inside. His muscles were sore, he had run that circuit every day this fortnight and they were fatigued from over exercise. But two weeks since he had returned home, it had been a pleasant return and passed by swiftly. His thoughts drifted to the young boy Aern; he had not spoken a word since the first night. Mother was beginning to think he was bewitched. Arik remembered the boy had spoken at their initial encounter, if only briefly.
"No good, will be easier to think over breaking fast." He said to himself pondering upon how to approach the problem.
Aern could smell bacon. Opening his eyes, he rose from the pillow to find he was alone. Ursla had risen early again and gone off to do her chores. Ambling to the chair in the corner of the room he gathered his garments and pulled them on. He was salivating now, this past fortnight he had eaten better than he had in a year.
The smell of meat and now fungi wafted to him with the draft under the door. Aern immediately left the room and shut the door behind him. Entering the main room of the house with the dawn light flooding in through the single large arched window. He shielded his tired eyes for a moment allowing them to adjust and saw Ursla, Ilga and Arik all sat around the table eating and chatting merrily. Ursla was the first to see Aern.
"Good morning Aern!" Came the reassuringly sweet voice. Aern blushed slightly then raised his head.
"G.good morning all." replied the child.
Ursla's eyes widened with delight, cheeks rosing ever so slightly. Aern saw Ilga smile, then with a bout of harmonious laughter Arik stood from his chair.
"Well met Aern, there we all were worried you'd lost ye tongue. Now it seems yah found it! By the divines lad come eat your fill. I'll be taking you out after and you'll need your strength."
Ilga gestured for Aern to come sit in her lap. He did so, softly raising himself to sit at the table with her.
"Have you had enough time to settle now, are you able to tell us where you are from Aern?" she asked. The authoritative tone was nowhere in her voice. Instead, it was smooth flowing delicately and yet firm and steady harbouring great strength behind a softness. This somehow eased Aern and he began to speak.
"I come from very far away, over a sea." muttered Aern.
"Do you know the name of this place you are from, or how you came to be in the lands of the Icanii?" interrupted Arik.
Aern just shook his head. Aern did not notice, but Ilga's eyes narrowed slightly at this lack of response.
"But what of your parents?" asked Ursla leaning over the table to touch the boys shoulder.
He shook his head silently again. "Well, aren't you a little mystery, can you tell me though; how long were you alone for?"
Turning to respond to the mellifluously posed question from Ilga, Aern responded "I wasn't always alone ma'am." Suddenly looking crestfallen. Noticing the sudden change in the boy Ilga quickly changed the atmosphere in the room adding the authoritative tone back to her voice.
"Well, seems breakfast is getting cold. Let's finish, shall we? Then you two grown children can clear up." Taken aback slightly by the dagger laced words, the siblings looked at one another mockingly holding back laughter.
Following breakfast Arik and Ursla cleaned the house and returned all the clay plates and pots to their places. Once done, Arik left Ursla to her duties and went back to his room. Sitting on the bed he felt melancholy, his mind had wandered during cleaning. He had allowed thought about his friends, who had never made it back home. They had met their fates during the year of blood and horror in the thick jungles of Elsya. Their bodies lost in the dense undergrowth unable to be reclaimed by imperial forces.
Arik felt great shame over this, they were his friends from Risvale. Good friends, who followed him into charnel house of war to die in the third year of campaigning. Further more, he had been unable to be with them in their last moments. It was almost an insult.
The Elstrans had been a nightmare, they fought like demons in the darkness. The regular infantry had proved useless against the small skirmishes that had sprung up among the ranks. So Corvin's Fangs were sent forth. This had been where Arik had seen his first combat with the Fangs, he had thanked the divines for his previous training after the horrors of that jungle.
Still, Horlan and Jaled had been the only two other men from Risvale to leave with him. The twins were his friends and they never made it out of that jungle. He had told Kregan and Carna about the loss of their boys and had given them the gold payment owed to his friends. He had not told them it was his own earnings.
It was fine, he had earned more as he had lived longer it seemed almost right and it wasn't as if he was short on money. He had been blessed with earnings after the Elsyan Jungles and the campaigns that followed. Besides the Empire was not going to pay its dues, how could they? They would be too busy strengthening their positions and forming alliances to counter rival Lords than to hold up old commisions.
Since his first night drinking with his father Arik had been contemplating what they may be up to. What were the imposed lords of the North going to do in response to the Emperors death? The young warrior had little doubt he would know before long. But he sincerely hoped they would not bring war to the Highlands.
A rapping came from the door, Arik rose from the bed and called "Enter." The door opened gently and Ilga glided into the room silently.
"Do you have a moment Arik?" She asked softly. Arik had always found her light step to be mystical and it was good to see she had not lost her touch. He smiled, with his father's strength and his mother's agility he had surely been blessed.
"Come mother, what troubles you?"
"What would make you think I was troubled Arik? She replied quick wittedly.
Caught without a response Arik searched for an answer that would not seem foolish, after all he was aware his mother was wise with a quick tounge.
"Well, you have sought me out privately and you are soft of manner. It struck me that you may have something on your mind. May it be that I have done something to upset you?" replied Arik in a soft inquiring tone.
"No son be quietened; it is no serious matter. But as you probably well know already, the young one Aern was not being entirely forthcoming during our conversation earlier."
Ilga had always had an astounding ability to see into peoples hearts.
Arik had never been able to lie as a child, not to her. His mother would immediately see through him and frequently when he had been dishonest about his comings and goings, she would glide up behind him silently whilst he was amid something mischievous. He understood why his mother was approaching him.
"I know ma, I know. His story is not straight, I'll keep my eye on him today. Who knows maybe I'll get more than just a few words out of him?" Replied Arik nonchalantly to his mother's posed statement.
"You are no fool Arik. I fear there may be trouble around the child. Please be safe in your excursion later." She said more sternly "Yes ma, I will. Thank you for your concern. But first I have a few errands." biting back irritation Arik was as polite as possible. She was right, he was no fool and he found his mother to be condescending. Ilga however, just smiled and left the room.
As for his errands Arik needed to buy some mounts for the household. He had inquired at the Inn during the previous week and found that farmer Ebass had a bay gelding and grey pony he had received recently. Arik was to go see them today. After telling Aern to help Ursla with chores for the morning Arik donned his boots and set off to the north west village outskirts where Ebass' homestead lay. The walk was pleasant with the winter sun low in the sky. He was fortunate the snows had not set in a month ago, he was still journeying North then and it would have been a miserable march.
What would the Imperial council do in the Highlands? The news of the Emperor was clearly common knowledge by now. He was certain they would make a move to consolidate power for themselves, but how? Most likely coordinating with the representative in Lyvidsten. The northernmost of the four imperial cities. Shaking off the thought he grumbled loudly at himself
"Knock it off, you're no soldier not any longer, just the son of a smith."
Arik had given a friendly nod to a few passers-by on the journey, it seemed people were beginning to recognise him and get comfortable with his presence in town. He had felt like a stranger the previous fortnight, people thought him an outsider. He, as many others had heard of the fabled Icanii hospitality laws. He thought it shameful that the proud people no longer displayed the warmth of their legendary heroes.
By the time he arrived at farmer Ebass' homestead the sun was not long from noon. "Didn't think it was that far" cursed Arik under his breath.
Then he heard the familiar friendly greeting from the field opposite the homestead. "Ho ther laddie, best of the mornin to ye!"
It was Ebass, Arik smiled and waved "Ebass, good day to you. I've come to have a look at the horses. If now is a fine time?"
"Aye laddie thought that ma be why ye here. The time is fine as any. Come, follow" Replied Ebass cheerfully. Leaving the field and crossing the dirt track he passed Arik and limped toward the stable.
Ebass had told Arik about the accident four years ago. A horse had spooked at sudden lightning and pulled the plough out of control, Ebass had been caught and pulled under. His leg partially severed and broken; the Manor surgeon had thought him a lost cause. But the farmer had sat chuckling in the Inn about how he kept his leg and recovered to spite the gods, but now he hobbled as if cursed for his arrogance. Arik smiled at the memory and followed.
The beasts were surprisingly fine the bay gelding was a Courser and he was strong, seventeen hands, slightly older but well trained and had a good temperament.
"You'll be a fine companion." Whispered Arik as he stroked its flanks and rubbed his knuckles on its nose. The gelding whinnied lightly and Arik nodded to himself. The grey pony was a Utan Steppe pony, a mare. Sturdy and short with a long flowing silver mane, she was pretty. However, she seemed to have the temperament of a slighted whore. She was scratching and the ground and snorting loudly. She was certainly upset about something.
Arik gestured toward her inquisitively and asked Ebass "What has upset the pony?"
"Aye she bit me this morning, hates the stable for some reason, she's ok when on the road. I wouldn't make any loud sounds or sudden movements though I were you. Truly a working beast, restless & grumpy." Answered the farmer.
"Very well?" returned Arik questioningly.
"I wouldn't say she's flighty, more defensive. She kicked Toby my boy two days ago when he dropped a bucket behind her. Shell have to go because of that, she needs a bit of work and a little love, she'll be fine."interjected the farmer
Arik just sighed in response."So what are you asking then for the pair?"
"I want thirty drinii for the gelding and another ten for the pony. They're fine beasts and I think it a fair ask." Said the farmer with a serious attempt at a haggle.
"That is a fair price for you Ebass." Agreed Arik. "But the gelding is no longer in its prime and that pony is irate. I know times are tough Ebass but that price would fetch me a Rhunan Destirer. I think it would be fair for me to offer twenty drinii for the gelding and five for the pony?" he countered.
After twisting his foot in the dirt for a moment Ebass looked at Arik. "Aye master Arik, you'd be right there about the destrier, but as you said times are tough. Throw in another four drinai and I'll keep my peace."
"You drive a hard bargain Ebass my good man. I would almost think I was in the markets of Delosa. But I agree your terms and hope it brings you some comfort." Settled Arik, feeling rather destitute now.
After paying thirty silver coin to the parents of Horlan and Jaled that left him with a mere one gold and twenty silver pieces of his war earnings. "Should be enough to last till spring" the former soldier thought to himself.
The return journey was far faster than the outward one. Ebass had thrown in two saddles for the extra four gold pieces. Which took the bite out of the price for Arik. With the pony in tow he had ridden home by high noon. He stabled the mounts and fed them with fresh hay, purchased the previous evening. Feeling he should let the horses settle in, he went off to prepare some food for the intended afternoon trip.
Aern had been helping Ursla all morning. She had chopped wood, cleaned the household, the clothes and the bathtub. Now she was helping Arik by preparing strips of dried salted venison.
"It's for the trip lad." Said Arik as he shabbily sawed into a loaf of bread.
"Where are we going?" asked Aern.
"You'll see Aern, it's a nice little surprise." Replied Arik. "We will leave when were done here, I have another surprise outside." Aern just nodded with a slight look of confusion about him.
When Arik and Ursla had finished preparing meat, bread and honey Arik wrapped it all in linen cloth, he also packaged some fresh apples along with grain and carrots for the horses. He then put all the food packages inside a canvas sack which he proceeded to sling over his shoulder. Turning to Ursla he beckoned her to follow
"The surprise outside is for you sister." Her eyes lit up and the pair moved towards the door. Aern following them.
Outside Arik told Ursla to close her eyes. She had done so willingly; Arik had then led his sister and Aern into the stables. Aern was too fixated on a magnificently giant horse, brown and sleek the muscles rippled under the skin and the breath visible from the nostrils in the crisp winter air. Aern was so impressed by the horse that he had not been perturbed in his gaze by the shrieks of joy from Ursla. Aern assuming she had received a horse from Arik, turned and saw a small Gray pony, with a long flowing mane. Beautiful, but Aern had decided he wanted to stroke this tall horse.
Arik was busy telling Ursla about the temperament of the mare, he had stated it was not docile and would need some work. That she must calm the pony before approaching and speak softly to it. Form a bond by feeding and cleaning and using the pony as a work horse for which it was best suited. Whilst covering the strengths of a steppe pony the stout frame as well as enormous stamina he noticed Aern with a stool by the gelding. He was standing atop the flimsy wooden stool whispering to the horse and stroking its flank. The gelding's ears were flickering, and it snorted abruptly with what Arik thought almost amusement. He quickly finished with his sister and advised her to take the pony to graze in father's meadow then return her to the stable with water and hay. Noting the mare's mood to be fair around the young woman.
"Don't like boys then." Arik chuckled to himself as he watched his sister lead the pony away.
Turning and striding to where Aern stood upon a stall he called.
"Mighty fine beast isn't he Aern. Seems to like you too."
Aern just nodded continuing to stoke the fine beast. "He's so big." Came his voice.
"Aye almost seventeen hands lad, he is strong and calm. A fine horse indeed. Come we are to ride today." Said Arik.
Then attaching a set of rolled blankets and satchel to the saddle he tightened the straps of his canvas sack and mounted the gelding. Leaning down he gripped Aern by the armpits and swooped him up to sit in front on the saddle.
"Ever ridden before lad?" Asked the young man.
"No" replied Aern.
"Well grip the pommel and hold on with your legs. Once weve got water in our wineskins I want to make good time." with that Arik kicked the horse into a steady trot and made his way to the palisade.
After the village square the pace up the old north road had been swift and as hoped, Ariks new mount had made good time. With the sun low in the sky, the young man knew they wouldn't make it before nightfall.
"Just have to wait 'till the knol." He cursed aloud.
Aern had been mute since leaving the palisade and turning north. Arik was bemused, he had been speaking earlier and silent for a fotnight prior that. He hoped the child was just enjoying the ride.
Meanwhile Aern's fingers where bone white, he was gripping the saddle so tightly he could not feel them anymore. Gritting his teeth and squeezing with his legs he clung on for dear life. He couldn't help but feel that if he loosened his grip he would be dashed upon ground below.
They were high up now and Arik could see their end. He had enjoyed coming here when he was young, over the years he was gone many trees had overgrown the valley obscuring the knol from view. The ruins used to be seen clearly from here at the northern end of this hidden valley, east from the old north road. A disused dirt track lead over a rise where the valley is visible. Always alone when here, he came to associate it with peace and quiet. Odd he thought as the ruin itself represented the horrific violence that had befallen it.
He however had always found himself calm and intrigued amongst the earthen workings. The people here had built in timber inside of a vast enclosed dyke. The site was huge but clearly the timber had rotted away or been salvaged many years before. He remembered his father called the place Keane's folly and had told him it was a sacred place with an ancient history for the Icanii. Though none knew the old route and most had never seen it. It was purely coincidence that Arik had seen the track when mis-adventuring before his majority many years prior.
He then recalled his grandfather's hearth tales. One hundred and eighteen years ago, during the first Imperial invasion. The general Imphis known as the 'Seed of Evil' amongst the Pyctii & Icanii peoples had led ten thousand of Catans finest heavy infantry and auxilia, on a great expedition to finally annex the independent and savage north.
He had sacked everything as far north as Fort Hagan, when the great general had suddenly found himself against a united tribal fury and in the end, was overwhelmed by a sea of Icanii swords. But it was here at the legendary Keane's folly that Don Keane had stood firm against the might of the Catans in his last effort to protect his heritage.
The legends were now sung by saga poets and bards, highly romanticised and exaggerated. Arik saw it for what it was, the Icanii had almost been destroyed back then. After Keane's crucifixion and death, the tribes had ignited, united with a pride and fury unchecked and now forgotten. Almost seventy five thousand young and old, men and women Icanii from all over the North had then descended upon Imphis and his marching column. The Catans discipline was strong and the Icanii losses terrible, but for all their skill. They were a pebble in the ocean of woad painted warriors.
Exultant after the victory and slow with restoring tribal strength the Icanii were ill prepared to repel the later invasion force about forty years later. Now another three generations had passed, the once proud people's cultural memory had been all but quashed and mounds of ruins like Keane's folly were all that was left of the old Icanii ways.
The night was a clear one and Aern, now that the gelding had crested the brow of a tor and had slowed to a trot, could see a high valley blanketed with pines below them. In the sky, green ribbons danced as if the sky itself was water rippling under the stars. This had kept Aern's attention as they had descended the rise into the valley and moved into the woodland. It was darker under the canopy of the pines.
Aern shivered, there was a sullen silence that surrounded them here. He heard Arik chuckle behind him.
"Don't worry lad. There's nothing up here, literally nothing. No people and no fauna for some reason. It's just eerie. But I like it."
Aern just nodded.
"Did you see that green fire in the sky?" Arik asked.
"How could I not?" replied Aern
"You cannae see it from any further south than a few hours ride." Arik grinned.
"It's a Northern spectacle of that I'm certain."
The pine trees parted, and the boy could make out a long ditch at the base of a steep hill that did not look natural, from what Aern could see there was only one way up the hill. A ramp had been fashioned into the side of the great earthwork, as if to mark the only entrance into the place. "As well as the only safe exit" he found himself worrying.
Traversing the ditch and ascending the ramp bought them upon a plateau, edged by a great earthen mound. Aern looked around to see scant remnants of anything recognisable as human occupation except for a few mounds, ditches and scattered debris, small rocks that looked carved and rectangular. Arik suddenly spoke.
"This is Keane's Folly and not just some old hill, speaks legend. I would come here often before I enlisted but still feel drawn to this place. Even when across the Southern Sea I longed to sit here and dream, I cannot understand it."
"It's a bit scary Arik" replied Aern.
But before the warrior could reply Aern pointed to a circle of deep depressions in the ground and asked."Where did the stones go?"
Blinking back confusion Arik stood stunned "How did you know about the stones?"
"the holes in the floor" the boy replied bemused.
"Well I suppose it is obvious if you think hard about it. You are quick witted are you not little sprout." Said Arik bewildered at the child's observation.
After Arik had pitched camp and made fire the duo had both eaten from their supplies. Aern had listened to Arik tell tales of cities and armies and the Catan Empire. They were interesting tales and Aern felt that Arik had not embellished them for sake of interest and found himself smiling openly. Then whilst watching the dancing green fire Aern had whispered.
"What happened to the stones, are the circles not sacred?"
"They were once little one, I'm surprised you know so much. But the Imperials took them for 'quarry' decades ago. Used them as plinth's in their great stone churches." a hint of spite in Arik's voice Aern felt saddened by the man's obvious hatred. He had seen hatred in men before.
"So boy, I'm glad you're feeling nice and chatty tonight. Would you care to enlighten me a bit about yourself?" came Ariks voice in a soft but assertive tone. It cut through the haze of sadness and sent Aerns mind reeling.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Answering questions with questions is the trickster's tongue Aern. But I will humour you. Why was an innocent child such as yourself lost and alone in unpatrolled territory being hunted?"
Aern's eyes widened, "hunted?" he stuttered as panic began to well in the pit of his stomach.
"There's no time now Aern, I don't know what it is you are running from or who has been watching us for the past fortnight. But they have been obvious in the last few days. I can feel malice in the darkness even now. You will owe me an explanation later." As he was speaking Arik had already risen to the gelding and drawn a short sword and hunting dagger. Sheathing the weapons at his side he then strapped on his cuirass and began to stretch his limbs and stand in a series of poses.
Initially Aern was confused, but realisation dawned on him. Arik meant to fight. The enemy were upon them, the panic that had been welling deep down now became a torrent. He made to cry out "You can't!" but Arik silenced him with a finger to his lips and the words were just mouthed.
Arik had understood and had spoken softly in return. "Men who say they can't, lead fruitless lives Aern. You remember that. Now build up the fire with all the remaining wood and be a good lad sit close to it." And in an instant he was gone, melted into the shadows with silent cat like grace.
Sat alone in the flickering firelight Aern was almost too scared to move. Thumbling in the partial light he located the dry lumps of firewood and began to add them to the flames being careful not to smother them. He found the action calmed him and he began to listen. It was deathly silent bar the crackling of the fresh fuel. Though as the flames began to eat at the new wood the light seemingly stretched and grew. There was nothing to see but open space and darkness beyond but Aern felt reassured he could see further now.
He settled himself down close to the fire, thinking to himself and as he did, he found the silence broken by the whinnying of the gelding. Turning he saw the beast scratching its hoof at the floor. Aern felt the blood drain away from his face and turned his gaze from the gelding, when he caught a glimpse of movement at the edge of the fire's illumination.
It was as if the darkness itself was dancing and not the light, nothing was there but the flickering shadows of the firelight. Without warning the darkness began to swell towards the boy from that same position, bleeding from the darkness behind it.
As the dark shadow grew closer to the fire it began to take form. Personified form, as if a man flesh and blood were striding to rip Aern's very soul from its body. This is the thought that gripped his mind as he saw another dark figure materialising from the shadows to his left. All hope had melted away now, and he closed his eyes to pray.
In the total darkness behind his firmly shut eyelids, Aern heard the sound of a scuffle, then the sound of metal crashing upon metal. A loud thud erupted beside the boy and he opened his eyes startled. A shimmering mass upon the floor beside him, flickering with blue fire and warm steaming blood pooling below it.
In that instant he could see the form of the blonde warrior in his black armour, spinning and twirling amongst two shadows. The sword and dagger in either hand lancing out to strike his opponents who shimmered in and out of view, striking from undeterminable directions. Seeing this Arik now breathing heavily, smiled. Closing his eyes he searched for the silence, with that he would attain calm.
Aern watched as Arik battled the entities in the dying light of the fire. It was as if the shadows were ethereal. He saw blood upon Ariks cheek and arms from shallow wounds and could see that several scratches had appeared on the black chest piece. Arik stood now breathing heavily and despair erupted in Aern's heart. He wanted to flee but was glued to the scene. Arik had closed his eyes and began breathing deeply.
Just as the young boy thought all hope lost, Ariks right sword arm lanced up and outward in a gloriously murderous arc. Blood erupted as if from air, but Arik had already followed through with the movement turning on his left heel to thrust with his sword again. It appeared to stab nothing but shadow and air. But wrenching it away, more blood erupted from the spot and two new shimmering corpses lay upon the ground. More blue fire crackling upon them. Then it was still, the fire dying down and the crackling having ceased, all was silent.
Arik, stricken with fatigue kneeled by the shadowy form of his enemy he prodded the corpse. Concluding that it was indeed solid form, he breathed a sigh of relief that paused his laboured breaths. Even in the depths of the Elsyan Jungles during the fourth year of campaigns he had not been as hard pressed as he was tonight. Whatever these hunters were, his victory tonight left him bitter. His skills had been shortcoming and he had very nearly preformed his swan's song in the darkness of this eventide.
Solidifying his resolve, he assessed the battle in his memory. Three beasts of unknown origin had been hunting Aern. Even with all of his wiles and skills Arik had been close to losing, whatever sorcery the assassins must have been using was powerful for he could not focus on even one. Even so, they moved familiarly and followed typical forms of attack. If it weren't for the fact that they shimmered and disappeared into shadows, Arik would have thought them men. All that was left, was one question. Why a child had such dangerous enemies?
Pulling up a large clump of wild grass he wiped the blood from his blades, swiftly discarding of the makeshift cloth. Walking slowly back to the fire he noticed the corpses of the assailants had stopped shimmering with shadow and were now almost human like in form except they were covered in a grey scaley skin with large eyes. Confused he sat himself silently by the fire studying the still forms quietly.
Aern had grown troubled with the long silence after the intensity of the fight. Not only had he feared for his life, but he had witnessed Ariks desperate fight with the shadows and had feared for his life too. The tranquillity had returned to the old ruin, but the harmony was lost to the duo. No longer could Aern take the tense silence and decided to speak. But before he even opened his mouth to speak, he heard Arik ask him a question.
"So Aern, I think you owe me an explanation as to all this and I won't accept anything but the truth." Aern felt a sinking feeling in the pits of his stomach. He had been avoiding this confrontation until he felt the time was right. Long since had it been proper. Returning the young warriors gaze with a guilty look.
"Can we go home first?" he asked trying to imbibe as much childish innocence into the statement as possible.
"No laddie, I would like to learn the identity of our pursuers. If you hadn't noticed I just saved your life as well as my own." Aern was only able to submit now and with a sigh he began to answer Ariks questions
Arik had found himself bemused at the child's story. The sprout had escaped from Kel Hamar in Pyctii lands. It was a slavers market; Arik was impressed the child had made it so far North a slave child was a valuable asset. But the beasts trailing him, Aern had called them Shadow Golum's. The poor child was petrified of them. If memory served the soldier correctly Shadow Golums were in the tales told by Borian Merchants in Isa. Melds of human and demon able to shadow walk and strike silently.
If he had not seen them this evening, even fought against them. He would certainly have put them down to myth and legend as he had previously, like any sensible thinking man. There was usually a logical explanation for peoples fables. But tonight, had firmly convinced the young Icanii of the existence of the horrors in lore. Too ashamed to admit the fear even to himself and aware Aern was still hiding something, he knew a restless sleep await under the fiery green night sky.