Beyond the Edge of Dawn (28 page)

Wurz reluctantly grunted. “Makes sense.”

Turning to Geblin, Kavan asked, “I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay here. Eglios is look for a group traveling with a Gnome. We can’t risk it. I’m sorry.”

Geblin spat on the ground. “Just as well. I’ve grown tired of your company.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Barum announced. “My bow is no good in a cavern. They need it more here. Besides, someone needs to keep an eye on Geblin.”

“Bah!”

Aphere cast a sharp, concerned gaze to Barum. While she approved of the man he was becoming, she couldn’t help but fret over his decision. Odds were decidedly not in their favor and, more than likely, he was going to wind up dead. She tried, and failed, to ignore the pain deep in her heart.

“We’re all crazy, you know that right?” Pharanx asked. “Chances are good we’ll all be dead by the time tomorrow ends. But you never know. This just might work.”

Kavan nodded. The notion of splitting forces sat ill with him, weighing heavily against the oracle’s words. All were meant to play a part, but what that part was remained to be discovered. Kavan knew the others were meant to stay. It felt right. “It’s settled. We leave at dusk. May the gods smile down on us all.”

Partings

“Why do you have to go?” Phirial asked through her sobs.

Kavan was suddenly uncomfortable. He’d never been in such a position and had no idea how to react accordingly. He felt warmth at the thought of having her close. Her smile never failed to dazzle. A host of answers went through his head. Deciding which was appropriate was elusive. Phirial was bright, enjoyable to be around. She wasn’t a warrior. Her only exposure to violence had been the cowardly murder of her father.

He uneasily wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her close. “Sometimes, a man’s life is not his own.”

“That’s an escape, not an answer,” she snapped back.

“What do you expect me to say?” he countered. “I have no land, no people, no kingdom. I have nothing but this sword.”

Phirial looked up through tear-filled eyes. “You have a choice. All men have a choice.”

“I wish that were true.”

His voice trailed off to a whisper. Free will. He’d not had the luxury of such since Gaimos fell. The very genes in his blood demanded obedience to steel. His was a life of battle and discontent. Nothing that man nor woman said would ever change that. She clutched him even tighter, afraid that, if she let go, she’d lose him forever. It was at that moment that Kavan made up his mind. He maneuvered them over to the simple cot in the far side of the room and sat her on the edge. He almost lost himself looking into her deep, warm eyes.

“There are things about me you don’t know. Things you wouldn’t want to know.”

Kavan took her silence as a sign to continue.

“Phirial, I’ve not lived a good life. When I think of all the men I’ve killed, all of the families I’ve broken, I wonder how I’ve managed to live with myself for so long. This is not a friendly world. Evil and malice corrupt our souls. A greater truth has never been more evident. There was a saying amongst my people once, long ago. We called it the howl of the wolf. Have you heard this?”

She shook her head.

He continued, “It is a call to arms. An answer to wrongs committed. Every time Gaimos went to war or drew swords, we answered the howl of the wolf. So it is again. A terrible darkness threatens us all. This is not a battle any army can fight. Instead, a handful have been chosen.”

“You and the others,” she offered.

“Aye. Chosen by the Oracle of Wenx. Five of us were chosen to perform a deed none of us know. It seems the gods have deemed the sons of Gaimos have more to do.”

Phirial drew back. “You say five, but there are only four.”

Kavan felt a stab of pain in his heart. “We haven’t seen or heard from Pirneon since arriving in Rantis. I fear he has fallen.” He omitted telling her of the bond. Some matters were too private.

“Dead,” she gasped.

He closed his eyes in prayer. “Worse.”

Phirial couldn’t imagine a worse fate than being put in the ground early, but she knew when to let something drop. Instead, she asked he continue his tale. He did. At times, it was easy to tell, simple and straightforward. Other times, he choked on the words. Phirial did her best not to let emotions override reason. The more he spoke, the more she began to understand both his complex way of life and his charge from the oracle. Try as she might to not to, the young blacksmith from Rantis fell more in love with the stranger from nowhere.

Surprisingly enough, Kavan felt better. He’d held almost nothing back, going to lengths to explain Gaimos’s plight and the sort of lives his people were reduced to living. The charge of the oracle was sacred. He didn’t care to think of the consequences of failure. Then again, if they did fail, none of them would be around to suffer the ramifications.

Phirial wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. “Can you win?”

Her voice cracked, coming out timid.

“I honestly don’t know,” he replied softly.

That much alone was more than he was comfortable admitting. Doubt often led to fear, and defeat after that.

Mabane watched Kavan with a queer look. The one-armed drunk knew something was out of place but couldn’t put a finger on it. What he did know was that no sane man should be smiling and whistling hours from going to his death.
Or maybe I’ve got it all wrong. Maybe Lord Death wants us all to jump into his embrace with song and dance. What fools are we?

Kavan finished strapping his pack to the saddle and faced Mabane. “What?”

“You,” was all he could say.

He shrugged. “What about me?”

Amazing. These Gaimosians are demons in flesh
. “How can you be so calm in the face of what comes next?”

“There’s not much point in being anything else,” Kavan replied. “We all must die, but it’s the measure of a man how he chooses to do so. You should be glad of this. Not every man is so fortunate.”

The Gaimosian slapped him lightly on the shoulder and walked away. Mabane stared after him for a while. He started searching his soul, hoping to find the well of resolve. One question prevented it. When the time came, would he be able to stand up to his fears? He didn’t know.

“You really shouldn’t be going with them,” a deep voice rumbled from behind.

Mabane turned to see the taciturn Dwarf lieutenant standing there. His thickly corded arms were casually folded. There was a hard look to him, much the same as every Dwarf Mabane had ever met.

Wurz spit and shook his head. “Doesn’t make any sense. Not to me, at least. They’re leaving a good man behind and taking a cripple. Don’t get me wrong, lad, you’ve got courage, but you won’t be much good in a hard fight against those monsters.”

“I know,” Mabane answered sadly.

Wurz spit again, and a wad of dark, chewed leaves went with it. “So why go back? Stay here and help with the wounded.”

“I can’t. I owe it to a friend.”

“You slept with her, didn’t you?” Aphere asked.

Kavan wasn’t positive, but he thought he detected a glint of jealousy in her tone. For unknown reasons, he almost enjoyed it. “What makes you say that?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You damned well know what.”

Kavan shrugged. “Not that it’s any concern of yours, but yes.”

“That was reckless, Kavan. I bet she hasn’t stopped crying since we left,” she scolded.

He let out a long breath, trying to prevent his anger from rising. “My business is my own. It is not the subject of casual conversation. Can we just leave it at that and focus on the task at hand?”

Aphere reined her horse in, forcing him to do the same. “Listen to me first. That girl just lost her father and her entire world. She’s not right in her mind, and you slept with her. You should not have taken advantage.”

Kavan watched her ride off. He didn’t know how to tell her that his own world had been upended as well, and his feelings for Phirial were growing. He wasn’t certain, but felt like he was falling love. Defending himself to a fellow Gaimosian would be a waste of time. Kavan kicked his horse forward, leaving two confused mercenaries following close behind.

Night was dark, intimidating without the light of the moon. The five riders inched across the unforgiving landscape towards an uncertain destiny. Of the group, only the Fist members had yet to bear witness to the pain and loss of Gessun Thune. Kavan almost felt sorry for them. Trained mercenaries weren’t prepared for what came next.

Aphere decided to leave them alone until reaching the ruins. Each of the party had personal demons threatening to strangle them. It was as individuals that they must confront those demons. Her greatest concern was for Mabane. He was the least stable of the group. Past experiences haunted him to the point of ineffectiveness. She had little doubt this venture might drive him irreversibly over the edge. If it didn’t kill him first.

Instead her mind stayed focused on that final glance at Barum. That singular moment keeping her motivated to push forward. His serene face helped calm her, for going to war and, in her mind, certain death was never an easy feat. No, Aphere ignored the others and remained focused on Barum.

Kavan had already gone ahead to scout. He felt the most as ease there, and after their earlier discussion, she was inclined to let him be. Maybe a little time alone would help him clear his head. She eased back and attempted to console Mabane.

“You’re frightened,” she said.

Mabane eyed her curiously. “I’d be a fool if I wasn’t.”

“I agree. This is not an easy task we attempt.”

He snorted mockingly. “Why are we having this conversation? You and I both could have ridden off into the night and put this nightmare behind us. We’re all doomed. I should never have gotten involved with you.”

She empathized with his sorrow, though it was never one of her stronger characteristics. “We are not always in control of our destinies, as you would believe. You could run to the far ends of Malweir, and it wouldn’t save you from what is coming.”

“I don’t believe you. I may not know much of this world, but I know we are all given choices,” he told her.

“I wish we were. Mabane, there are forces working against us, even as we speak. Have you idea of the magnitude of evil we are going up against? It may not seem like it to you, but this darkness threatens to consume the world. If we fail, everything we have ever known will devolve into horror. We’re fighting for the lives of every single being on Malweir.”

“You honestly expect me to believe that you’re all doing this out of sheer nobility?” he said. His voice bore hard edges. “I’m simple, not naïve. We all know the stories of your kingdom. Your people brought damnation down upon themselves. Is this supposed to be some sort of crusade for redemption or just another attempt at domination?”

Aphere sat up, shocked to hear his words. Having been born after the Fall, she’d never had the opportunity to know either her people or her culture. The ways of her homeland were as much mystery to her as the rest of the world. Her father did his best to instill a deep sense of values and core beliefs, always with the intent on making her the very best of people. She learned the legends, the names and history of the land long defeated. The world knew them as malevolent conquerors. No one bothered learning the truth. That they were hard working people, the same as in every other kingdom. That honor and loyalty were placed above all else, propelling them to be better than the previous generation. They could never understand that Gaimosians were no different from anyone else.

“You know not what you speak,” she snarled.

“I’ve seen enough to know better.”

Aphere felt an uneasy feeling spring to life. Old doubts resurfaced. They challenged her beliefs, giving her pause to wonder. Doubt on the battlefield kills more than wounds. So she’d always been told. No Gaimosian ever feared taking up the sword. It was the rest of life they shied from. Aphere silently cursed Mabane, letting her anger manifest in his words. Then she noticed his empty sleeve billowing in the slight breeze. Mabane knew suffering at depths few others could comprehend. That pain bled out into daily life. He was bitter, broken. Alcohol became his prison, leaving him a gnarled shell.

Aphere sighed. Perhaps, just perhaps, he was right. Loath as she was to admit it, she had to open her mind to the possibilities of a past she was equally unaware of. “One way or another, it really doesn’t matter.”

Mabane coughed, his lungs breathing fire. “How so?”

“In the end, we either live or we die.”

“Now you’re a poet as well?” he snapped.

Aphere laughed. “No, half man. I am a warrior, born and raised. We are about to enter the storm, and those are the only two ways out. How do you plan on greeting death?”

“At the bottom of a bottle back in Rantis.”

Nothing else needed saying.

The first indication they had stumbled upon the hunt were the hundreds of vultures dotting the sky. Their violent red heads and broad black bodies were visible almost a league away. The moon was out now, directly overhead. The near horizon threatened the sky with shades of orange, yellow, and red from the heat of hundreds of licking flames.

Kavan smiled grimly as he halted. This was campaign. He had always felt more at home among armies of battle brothers eager for the fight than at any other time in his life. All of the training and personal hardships led up to this one perfect moment on the eve of battle. Blood, suffering, and unthinkable horrors lay ahead. But here, now, the world was perfect.

“No sign of the army,” Aphere said coming alongside him.

Kavan tilted his head. “Is that good or bad?”

She didn’t know. “How do we do this?”

Kavan rolled a kink from his shoulders and laughed. “We ride down into camp like we belong and pray to our gods that there is still time.”