Beyond the Edge of Dawn (26 page)

Grief

The trip back to Rantis was fast, uneventful. The only thing out of ordinary was the unusual amount of traffic on the roads. Bounty hunters, mercenaries, and adventurers began their pilgrimage to Rantis and the great hunt of King Eglios. All came seeking glory in one form or another. Most would find only death. The Gaimosians avoided them. Times were foul, and these additional people would only get in their way.

Little could they know that, at the same moment, Pirneon was finishing the last of his hot tea while preparing for his own hunt.

By the time they arrived back at the inn, all were exhausted. The sudden increase of long nights followed by troublesome days left them in need of a large bed and hot baths. Kavan trudged up the stairs with barely enough strength to unlock his door. What he saw then was beyond reckoning.

Phirial looked up from Mabane’s embrace. Tears had stained her face. She saw Kavan and rushed into his arms. Mabane wiped his own tears.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he said weakly.

Kavan wrapped her in his embrace, whispering soft words of soothing.

“It was horrible,” she sobbed.

The others filed in. Barum closed the door and worried.

“They killed him, Kavan,” Phirial cried. “They murdered my father.”

Aphere immediately crossed to the window and scanned the streets below. Barum drew his sword and waited in the event the enemy was about to ambush. Kavan felt a piece of him break.
Not her. Not her too
. Geblin climbed onto the low bed and struggled to hide his tears.

“Phirial, I know this is hard, but we need to know who did it,” Kavan attempted to soothe.

“I don’t know. Three men broke in. My father pushed me out the back and went to stop them. I wanted to stay. I wanted to….”

She broke down completely, all but collapsing in his arms. Kavan felt torn. His feelings for her threatened to overcome a lifetime of soldiering. He wanted to grab his sword and find those responsible. Duty came first. He stood, Phirial in his arms, helplessly trapped between duty and heart. All he could do was hug her tighter.

“I see one hiding in the alley across the street,” Aphere confirmed. “They tracked her here.”

“Unless we’ve been watched the whole time we’ve been in Rantis,” Barum suggested. He kept an ear to the door, listening for boots.

Kavan put the facts together. “It has to be Eglios. With the army getting ready to move, the king needs to shut this city down.”

“Once his enemies are removed, nothing can stop him,” Aphere concluded. “The whole kingdom will be against us.”

“We must leave immediately.” Kavan’s words bore finality.

Mabane glanced up. His reluctant help had become a death sentence. If indeed they were being followed, he knew he wouldn’t last the night. “What about me? They’ll kill me as soon as you leave.”

Kavan fixed him with a hard stare. “You come with us.”

“But….”

“Unless you care to fill a hole come dawn. We have allies in the countryside. It’ll be safe enough for the time being.” Even as he spoke, Kavan knew the words weren’t entirely true. He had no idea how large a force Moncrieff was assembling or how hard they planned on hitting Kalad Tol. Still, a few hundred mercenaries offered better protection than a handful of knights. There was still a chance.

“We should go now before others come. Use the hunt for cover and head straight for the fortress,” Aphere said.

Kavan nodded. “Pack. We leave in an hour.”

Phirial stopped crying long enough to look up into his determined eyes. “What about me? I have nothing. They took it all.”

“Our first stop will be the forge. Collect what we can and —”

She cut him off. “They burned it down. I have nothing left in my life, Kavan.”

His eyes watered, genuine tears that hadn’t been shed in many, many years. “You have me.”

There is was. His decision made. He’d committed to her safety and whatever hardships that entailed. Kavan didn’t bother looking around to catch the open-mouthed stares from the others. Even Mabane jerked back in shock. He knew what he’d done the moment he’d said it. He just prayed the complications didn’t prove too much.

Barum cracked the door to check the hall. It was the middle of the day, an unlikely time for any attack. That didn’t prevent the knights from using caution. The man who had hired the Fist very much wanted them dead, giving Kavan little reason to doubt that had changed recently.

“Clear,” Barum said.

Kavan pointed. “Move.”

Easing the door open, Barum slid into the hall and hugged the wall as he made for the stairs. The others filed behind with Kavan pulling the rear guard. He wondered how they’d come to this as he closed the door. A hobbled Gnome, a drunk, and the daughter of a dead blacksmith. Life had been so much simpler a few months ago. Lamenting old grievances wouldn’t change anything, so he focused on the now. He’d been thrust into the leadership position, and it was now his responsibility to keep them alive through the coming storm.

He sighed. Once they reached the horses, their chances would improve considerably. Combined with the diversion he planned, the knights should be able to exfiltrate the city undetected. Kavan decided there was no point in concealing their true nature. They advanced with weapons drawn, enough to deter any fool looking to score a quick bounty.

Kavan tossed the room keys as well as a small purse filled with silver coins to the frightened innkeeper and watched as Aphere led the others through the kitchens to the modest stable in the rear. Satisfied, Kavan headed for the front door. There was never a doubt about what he intended. He decided to sheath his sword so as not to draw undo attention. He walked confidently into the crowds without being recognized. The crowds provided camouflage, allowing him to slink across the street. He caught sight of his target and grinned.

The risk was relatively small. Kavan was counting on the lookout not paying attention. The gap closed. He figured the lookout was searching for Phirial and would fail to notice him until it was too late. Kavan palmed a dagger as he neared. With a quick movement, the three-inch blade drove between ribs to puncture the heart. He let out a strangled groan before collapsing in Kavan’s arms. Kavan wasn’t satisfied until he watched the eyes roll back into his head and smelled the fresh urine spilled down his trousers. He dropped the body in the alley with the dagger still embedded.

“Any problems?” Aphere asked after he rejoined them.

Kavan mounted his horse. “No. It was fast.”

Phirial caught the drying blood on Kavan’s sleeve. Hate burned brightly in her eyes. “I hope you made him suffer.”

Her words spit vehemence. No amount of bloodshed would be enough to erase the pain of losing her father. Kavan empathized with her but lacked the comforting words she needed. He’d never been particularly compassionate, seldom feeling anything remotely comparable to sympathy. He merely nodded and rode forward.

“Was there any sign of more?” he asked Aphere.

“None that we’re aware of. Mabane knows a back way through the city. We should avoid contact, at least until we gain open ground.”

Mabane looked serious for the first time since joining them. He wasn’t sure where his life was headed anymore. Death loomed ever closer, a fact he had once accepted and, oddly, looked forward to. He knew he should have died long ago. Perhaps that would have been best, but time and foul memories conspired to reinstall his will to live.

“The way leads through some of the housing areas. Patrollers are about the only ones who ever look there. The army is forbidden, or at least they used to be.”

“The army has no reason to know who we are yet,” Kavan deduced.

That was not entirely true. Pirneon had somehow been subverted and could well have given the enemy a fully report on why they’d come to Aradain. Kavan struggled with this concept. Gaimosians were many things but not traitors to blood. More distressing, Kavan couldn’t feel the Knight Marshal any longer, and he didn’t know why.

“Where is everyone?” Barum asked.

Mabane answered, “More likely at the grand parade. Eglios has one in honor of the brave souls come to attend the hunt. It’s a small concession, all things considered. There’s food and drink, whore of all sorts, and a festive environment. None of it really matters.”

They made their way through the virtually deserted housing area. Stray dogs and cats stared back from trash piles or empty alleys. Actual people were few. They heard the muted bustle of activity in the business district announcing the opening procession of the hunt. Kavan frowned with disgust. The entire charade was developed to keep the population from learning the truth of Gessun Thune. The enemy hid his work in plain view. With so many dying at the hands of werebeasts, the ruins had been turned into the center of a great many fears. No one in their right mind would dare go there, making it the perfect scenario.

It took almost no time before they reached the gates and were out onto the winding road through the bogs. Kalad Tol — and their fates — awaited.

A Dream in Ruins

Pirneon stood atop the small rise gazing down into the mouth of the black pit of Gessun Thune. He felt no fear, no hesitation. All his life had been a series of trials pushing him to this moment, the culmination of every despicable deed and hardship suffered in the name of his vanquished kingdom. Chest filled with confidence, he mentally prepared for battle. Both his sword and senses were sharp. He’d never been more ready. The first cracks of sunlight were streaking into the night sky. He paused to watch and thought of happier times.

“It will be safer once the sun rises,” Corso told him.

Pirneon nodded. He’d been told the same repeatedly during their trek to the ruins. He was a man unaccustomed to taking advice, tired of suffering lesser people. Arrogance demanded satisfaction. Only he had the ability to destroy the werebeast threat permanently.

“What sort of numbers are there?”

“None know for sure,” Corso lied. “The monsters sleep during the day, almost in a state of hibernation. They won’t impede you.”

He stared deep into Corso’s eyes in search of deceit. “Where will your men be positioned? This needs to be executed quickly and with precision.”

Corso had brought six men, all acolytes of the dark gods.

“They’ll be stationed on either side of the opening. I’ll accompany you.”

Pirneon scowled. “I didn’t come here to fight alongside anyone. We tried that on the path to Aradain. It was a terrible mistake. Gaimosians are meant to work alone.”

Corso smiled politely. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple. The werebeasts are creatures of dark power. I alone have the knowledge to counter that. You will need me to extinguish the source and win your war.”

“The source?”

“All of these creatures stem from a single source. Legends say that they rest at the heart Gessun Thune. It is that source we must find and destroy.”

He failed to mention anything about the nexus, or dark gods, leading Pirneon to question Corso’s integrity. Pirneon naturally assumed the source was the key to finding and destroying the nexus. It was a simple task.

“Very well, Minister. Do us both a favor,” Pirneon suggested. Corso folded his hands in front of his waist. “Stay out of my way. I don’t want your blood on my hands.”

“Indeed. I shall keep that in mind.”

Grunting his approval, Pirneon then asked, “May we begin? Daylight has broken.”

“Take up your positions. Do not let anything out alive,” Corso ordered his disciples. “If we don’t return by nightfall, see to yourselves lest you join us in oblivion.”

“There will be no such ending,” Pirneon snapped. “Come.”

He led the way into the valley with sword in hand. Corso followed at a reasonable distance, smiling wickedly the entire way. He’d come to hate Pirneon in their short time together. The man’s arrogance was his undoing, a sad state that had led to the ruination of an entire kingdom.
No wonder Gaimos was destroyed
. He focused his thoughts on luring Pirneon into the alteration chambers where magic would run its course. Only then would Corso be able to complete his task.

Pirneon demanded silence once they left the slope. Corso’s six men slinked into position, putting on a show of being afraid. They hid in the rocks and waited. Mildly satisfied with their amateur professionalism, Pirneon turned to the gaping maw just ahead. The very air reeked of evil, stifling, with murderous intent. He choked on sulfuric fumes sprinkled with brimstone. This was unlike any place he’d ever experienced.

Nothing lived or grew. The ground was moist, almost disgustingly soggy. Mold covered the rocks and boulders. Pirneon tied a scarf over his lower face. Then he spied the greenish mist pulsating from deep with the cavern. He spared a glance at Corso, who feigned ignorance. Together, they crept into the cavern.

Pirneon caught the erratic drop of water from somewhere in the gloom. The sound echoed loud enough to cover their footsteps. He smiled savagely. Every little advantage brought him a step closer to the end and the glory he deserved. The oracle had been wrong to choose Aphere and her vile taint. Once he finished with the werebeasts, he decided he would seek out every twisted Gaimosian and cleanse the bloodlines.

His suspicions arose suddenly when he failed to spot any bones. Hundreds of men had come down here, yet there wasn’t the slightest hint of remains. The werebeasts were carnivorous, but he had never met an animal who feasted upon bone. He tightened his grip on his sword, fully expecting an attack to come at any moment.

The path was midnight black and restricting. He could feel the walls slanting in on them. The only source of light was the strange green mist. Pirneon began to feel misgivings. Something was wrong here, but what? He disregarded the feeling as superstitious nonsense; after all, the gods had fallen here. He pushed deeper until the path began to widen.

The mists deepened. Claustrophobia subsided, just. Pirneon found he had room to swing his sword, the only truly important factor concerning him. Corso a step behind, he traveled deeper underground. Overwhelming dread awakened, building to the point it threatened to consume him. There was nothing natural here. He had a host of questions needing answering, but Corso was determined to remain recalcitrant.

Eventually, they came into a massive cavern, awash in the green glow. They stood at one end and gasped. Pirneon could make out the remains of dozens of buildings. It didn’t seem possible, but Gessun Thune had once been a city.
What foul manner of creature once dwelt here?

“This was once the home of the Edaas,” Corso whispered, coming alongside him. Pirneon eyed him sharply. “Death cult of the dark gods.”

Pirneon reeled. The oracle had been right all along. Pirneon was now the true hand of destiny. His mind swirled, lost in the cyclopean vision of the future. “What happened to them?”

Unseen in the mist, Corso’s face hardened. “There was a crusade, similar to the one against Gaimos, to exterminate them. Kings and nobles banded together to destroy the Edaas. Only a few managed to escape, just over a thousand years ago.”

“The ones who did have carried on that legacy,” Pirneon guessed.

“And once again, Malweir stands on the brink of the abyss.”

Pirneon wasn’t satisfied. “What is the connection with the werebeasts?”

“No one knows. They only began appearing two years ago.”

Pirneon didn’t like the answer but knew there was little he could do about it. Corso was proving to be worthless, as far as he was concerned.

“We’re wasting time, Knight Marshal,” Corso hushed. He knew Pirneon wasn’t ready to accept the truth, wasn’t ready to learn how evil had adapted through the centuries. It was time to prod.

“There!” he exclaimed.

Pirneon followed his finger. “What?”

“To your right. See where the glow is brightest? There rests the source.”

“How can you be certain?”

“The ancient scrolls in the library mention it,” Corso lied again. “It must be the source. Quickly, before it is too late.”

They slipped through the ruins. Pirneon scanned the cracks and shadows for signs of the enemy. Surprisingly, the way was clear, prompting new worry. Where were all the werebeasts? They should have at least been aware of the Humans’ presence by now. Pirneon began to sense a trap, but it was far too late. They had almost reached the glow.

A ring of shattered columns lay in ruins surrounding the glow. Bright green light shot straight up from the ground. The opening! Pirneon felt his blood go cold as he gazed upon the gateway to another dimension. Through here, the dark gods threatened to break free.

The air was suddenly hot. Sweat ran freely down their bodies. Pirneon felt over his head. For the first time in his life, he felt inadequate. This place was death itself. He took a reluctant step forward, searching for something to strike. A lodestone. Anything that might signify the power of the source. The only threat came from the glow. His first instinct was to shy away.

Suddenly, the glow took on life. It pulsed the closer Pirneon got. The Gaimosian took that as a good sign, for the nexus knew he was here to kill it. He took another step, but it became sluggish. His footsteps were heavy, lethargic. Tentacles of mist circled around his legs. His thoughts became clouded. Pain spread from up his feet. He tried to turn but was rooted in place.

Corso watched with a wild look. Realizing he was betrayed, Pirneon struggled to reach him, to throttle him quickly, but he was caught. The first howl shattered the stillness, followed by dozens more. Pirneon’s sword dropped. He was caught helpless in a trap. His eyes widened with genuine fright as werebeasts of various shapes and sizes started crawling into the ruins. The creatures ringed the area and watched. Pirneon had been tricked from the beginning. Corso was the enemy he’d rushed blindly to fight.

“Corso!” he raged.

Corso waited until his prey was surrounded — not that he needed additional security. By now, Pirneon was hopelessly trapped in the poisonous gas. Casually folding his arms across his chest, Corso joined his pets. Pirneon watched in horror as the monsters parted and bowed reverently to their master.

“Poor, poor fool. Only now you begin to understand,” Corso began. “It was me all along. I pushed you where I needed you to go from the very beginning. That part was too easy. Your arrogance became my greatest strength.”

The pain reached Pirneon’s groin. “Why?”

“I’ve waited a thousand years to free my masters and take revenge against the sons of the usurpers. My agents helped cause the fall of your beloved Gaimos. Yes, it was your people who led the war against the Edaas, my kin. What better revenge to take than with the blood of Gaimos?”

Sharp pains lanced Pirneon’s stomach. He grit his teeth.

“You, Knight Marshal, are going to be the instrument of their final demise. But not like this, oh no, not in this form. The magic of the nexus requires the strongest soul to open or close it.”

“I won’t help you,” Pirneon grunted through the pain.

His body suddenly felt…wrong. As if it was changing. His muscles spasmed violently. The very blood in his veins caused him intense pain. Realization crashed like breaking waves upon the rocky coast. This was impossible.

“You understand now, don’t you? The mystery of the hunt is at last solved, but too late to save you. The Edaas learned how to turn men into beasts long ago. These werebeasts have done my bidding for a millennium. Eglios was fool enough to supply me with a steady stream of fresh specimens.”

“How?” Pirneon struggled.

Corso shrugged. “There’s no point in not telling you. You’ll become my willing slave as soon as the transformation is complete. Then you shall serve my will and bring about the end of the world. You really were no different. Seducing you was just as easy as playing on Eglios’s emotions. But for you I took a different approach. What better gift to give a man than what he didn’t have?”

He paused, turning suddenly. “You may come out now.”

A slight figure in black robes eased forward. Pirneon felt his soul shatter as Tamblin removed her hood, grinning malevolently.

“She’s been my servant since I found her as a child. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. Her charms are…quite remarkable, aren’t they?” His finger gingerly traced the curve of her jaw.

Pirneon renewed his efforts to escape, but his body revolted. Sharp pain consumed him, hungrily devouring him from the inside. Corso’s laugh echoed throughout the cavern.

“You won’t remember this, but the pain will be extraordinary. When next we meet, you’ll kneel before me and swear fealty.

Corso walked away, Tamblin in tow, leaving Pirneon to his demise. The werebeasts gathered closer and watched as their ranks grew yet again.