Horizon (In the Absence of Kings Book 3) Page 11

  The two stood at the corner of the refinery, looking into its open face, and they guessed that none of those carts were ready to be brought into the sun. Curious as to the nature of this precious mineral, Garreth led Ilsa over to the receiving area where the wagons were hitched and ready to be taken afar. As soon as the dust had finished drying, a tarp was placed over the wagon to prevent the ore to be taken away with the winds; Garreth, seeing only soggy piles of bloodfire left uncovered, figured this. He made his way over to a covered wagon and unloosened its covering, exposing a corner of its yield. The ranger threw his head back as a puff of red smoke leapt out at him. When the ore had settled, he looked inside. To him, it just appeared to be red sand, but brilliant and sharp like crushed rubies. He swept up a pile in his hand and let it flow through the cracks in his fingers like sand through an hourglass. Garreth was entranced as the sand began to settle in a small pile, and it began to smoke and briefly sparkle. Recognizing the telltale reaction, Ilsa pulled Garreth away by the arm. They had made it nearly four steps before they were blinded and deafened by light and explosion.

  Novas swore he could have heard bolts upon bolts of simultaneous thunder, or the devastation of an entire forest with all trunks destroyed at once. He saw the plume of smoke as it reached higher, larger, blacker, and wider than the trail from the refinery. The three stood agape, looking down upon the refinery, as a fiery cloud blossomed into the sky. The conflagration reached as high as their height on the hill, and Kayten grabbed Novas’ hand and held it tight.

  “That can’t be good. Explosions are rarely a sign of good things,” Novas suggested.

  “With smoke like that, a lot of bloodfire must have gone up. It only takes a small pinch to start a fire after all,” Malic explained.

  “It must have been an accident. It was so close to that building,” Kayten said, thinking aloud.

  “Yes. I doubt the Vandari will be pleased of it. They’ll be searching for a culprit before long, probably along the hills north of town. We should head back before it’s too late,” Malic suggested.

  Kayten and Novas could not disagree with his reasoning, so they began to trek back to the city in a hurry, blending in with a crowd of cloth washes in their way through the gate. Soon after, they were back in their room at the Sand Rat. Malic sat on the chair, looking out the window and down the alleyway into the busy street, and was curious to see if they had been followed. Kayten and Novas, growing impatient, sat on the bed.

  “With last night’s slayings and the explosion, I have no doubt the Vandari with be out in full force, checking for any and all oddities. It is probably best for you to stay here for another night. I will go consult with the stable master about hiring a wagon. Perhaps, we can smuggle you to Nacosst tomorrow,” Malic offered.

  Kayten and Novas nodded but were not too keen on staying longer.

  “Have no fear. I still have some coin to get us some food. Did you like the melon or pomegranate? Or perhaps some figs or dates this time?” Malic inquired.

  The two told him what they would like, and Malic went to the market. Novas took up the seat near the window, and Kayten stared at him for a time.

  “We’re wasting too much time here, Novas. We should go to Nacosst today,” Kayten pleaded.

  “I agree. I think Malic is overreacting. Doesn’t he know we fight the Vandari?” Novas replied.

  “I think there’s something else. Something he isn’t telling us or some reason he wants us here,” Kayten began, looking away, “I don’t know. He started as very helpful and helped save your life, but it is obvious he doesn’t want us to go anywhere till tomorrow,”

  “And what’s the deal with how much he knows about the Order? And why they need bloodfire? He seems to know the details down to a minute understanding,” Novas stated as he made his way up from the chair and walked over to Malic’s pack, unmoved in the corner for days.

  Kayten did not have to ask what he was doing as he opened the strings on the pack and looked inside. She helped him carry it over to the bed, and they began to rummage around. Inside, a bottle of oil for his blades, a smaller canteen, spare garments, and an assortment of vials containing potions or poisons. Lastly, to their curiosity, there was a sealed leather cylinder. Novas brought the cylinder up to the light. He found it unremarkable and untied its fastening and opened its lid. Novas put the revealed letter on the table and soon Kayten pressed against him to get a good look at it. Their faces were set and tense as they looked over the letter which contained little meaning for them since it was written in the Vandarian dialect. There were only three things they could understand out of the entire letter of swirling type and characters: the words “The Salty Dog” as they appeared on the tavern’s sign, a drawn rendition of the Salty Dog sign itself, and an accurate caricature of Berault from his subtle wrinkles to his salt and pepper hair. Both their mouths hung open as they began to realize whom they had been rooming with.

  “Kayten, you know who this is. A lethe character of black cloth with red eyes and wielding daggers like the ones Berault was attacked with,” Novas began.

  “How did I not see it earlier,” Kayten replied, biting her lip, “He did save us after all,”

  “You can expect little else from one who is shadowed in death,” Novas stated.

  “Now is our chance. We can finish this whole business here and now. Let us prepare,” Novas spoke, and Kayten stared at him and nodded as firmly as her will to see it done.

  Malic was all smiles as he entered the room, swinging around the bushel of fruit he carried in his hand. He walked by Novas and stopped between him and Kayten, who was sat upon the bed. He placed some sandy skinned pears and a handful of dates to go along with his melon upon the table. He pulled out one of his daggers and began to slice the melon into pieces. He cracked a smile as he looked over at Kayten and Novas who seemed hesitant to start their meal.

  “Well, dig in,” he said with a smile.

  At once, Kayten and Novas stood up, withdrawing their swords. Novas pointed Dawnbringer at Malic’s throat and Kayten poked the assassin’s back. Malic raised his hands, dropping his melon on the floor. He did not speak a word but swallowed deep and then breathed cool and calm.

  “We know who you are, what you’ve done. We saw your letter,” Novas explained.

  “Ahhh,” he mused, “very distrustful. And after all I did for you too,”

  “And all you would have done to us too. I want you to take out your other dagger and put it on the floor with your left hand, slowly,” Novas ordered.

  Malic nodded, dropped his left hand toward his hip, and began to unclip the holster that held it to his side. Novas did not catch sight of Malic’s keen fingers, which grasped a vial and dropped it to the floor as he withdrew the dagger. The vial went unheard as it settled on the floor, the sound muffled by Malic’s movements. As Malic tossed the dagger onto the table, he stomped upon the vial, releasing a blinding flash of light.

  When the light had faded, Novas and Kayten had nearly skewered each other where Malic had stood. Novas dashed to the open window where he thought he had heard a brief scuffle. The man in black sprinted down the alleyway away from them and around the corner into the crowd. Kayten and Novas sheathed their swords and looked at each other with humbled faces.

  “We tried our best. He is a killer of kings after all,” Novas lamented, sheathing Dawnbringer.

  “We should get out of here. Let’s grab his things and leave immediately,” Kayten urged.

  Novas agreed and he grabbed the fruit and the most useful of Malic’s things, donning his white robe, and they disembarked from the tavern. They made their way through the alleyways, only making their way onto the main street, hoods up, to get through the city gates.

  “We have no choice,” Novas asserted as he cut a horse free from the animal hitch.

  He threw himself onto the saddle, prompting the horse to winny and look up from its cool trough, and he gave Kayten a hand up before whipping the horse into a gallop and heading
east.

  Kayten urged him to move north a degree, clearly remembering their passage south from where they were found, and soon they were clopping along in the desert with no end in sight. The two were cautious of becoming stranded on the sand sea again, but their horse seemed healthy and full of energy, so they doubted little. They smirked to themselves when they did not see a single Vandarian patrol, the ones that Malic had tried to shelter them from, during their travel. It was nearing sundown when the horizon of dunes finally gave way to the coloured flat of the sea, and they made their way to it as straight as they could.

  “How do we know we haven’t passed Nacosst?” Novas asked, looking back at Kayten.

  “We have only traveled north in the slightest degree. Let us mark this spot and travel up the shore in search of it and return if we become lost,” she said as he pulled at Novas, willing him to stop.

  Kayten picked some driftwood off the shoreline, placed an X up the beach a ways, and then climbed onto the horse. The hooves of the horse tossed up clumps of sand as it galloped along the water’s edge, soaking its bottom quarters to refreshment. Before long, they saw another sandy clumping on the horizon but not of hazy peaks and dunes. Eventually, sharpened by irregular shadows, the buildings of Nacosst came into view because the flat roofing was an obvious contrast from the angular peaks of sand. The horse began to sup with a genuine thirst as it was tied up outside the gates of Nacosst, and Novas bid the poor beast farewell before turning off towards the Vandarian guards. Kayten and Novas made their way past the guards at the gate, not knowing they were the Kal’reth rebels, and soon found themselves in a quiet sidestreet.

  “We need to keep an eye out for Garreth, Ilsa, or any of the Amberclast crew. I know it’s been a few days, but we have to hope they are still around. I’m guessing this town has a market, let’s start there and maybe ask around,” Novas suggested.

  Kayten agreed, and they made their way onto the main street with their heads hung low and found the busy market. They had only been searching a short while, making their way to the market’s east end near the docks, before Novas looked to the sky with his mouth open wide.

  “I have to be dreaming,” Novas murmured as he led Kayten by the hand towards the dock.

  The sound of zipping fishing lines and children giggling before splashing into the water like cannonballs filled the dock area, but Novas stood silent as he looked up onto the blood red sails of the Windwalker, which was docked in the tiny bay. He looked aside at the Bluebreeze and was shocked to see the two Malquian ships there.

  “Garreth must have called for these, he must have,” Kayten guessed as she squeezed his hand.

  “Look, over there!” Kayten yelled as she took his hand and led him to the garrison.

  Novas didn’t know how or why, but two of the Crown Aegis stood guarding the gate to the rising garrison, standing well out of sight of the market. The two guards did not stop them from going through, noticing their armour and the blades poking through their robes. Kayten and Novas had only ventured a small ways into the courtyard before they saw a familiar face amongst them.

  “Eyrn! Eyrn, over here!” Kayten yelled and waved as they approached him.

  Eyrn, assigning a break to the townspeople who had joined him for swordsmanship training, sheathed his blade and walked towards them.

  “Isn’t it a relief to see you too. You’ve had us all quite worried, honestly,” Eyrn explained.

  “It’s good to see you too, Eyrn, but why are you here? And where is my father?” Novas asked.

  “Well, you better follow me up to the garrison. All will be explained there,” Eyrn replied as he waved them to follow him up the hill.

  The two guards at the garrison door gave the instructor a stiff salute, and Eyrn returned it without stopping. Shortly, they were through the torch lit hall and into the commander’s office where a large man sat on two chairs and was nearly too large for the table. A man more cut for the battlefield than a desk, Behn was growing impatient over his administration role but knew his abilities as a leader on the frontline of battle would be needed before long.

  “Ah! It’s about time you too showed up. Had Master Garreth quite a fret at the thought of losing you two,” Behn explained as he looked over the two and their unfamiliar robes.

  “Well, things seem to be in good hands here. How did you come to this place?” Novas asked.

  “The crew of the Amberclast were almost sunk at sea when they returned to Amatharsus on a Vandarian ship, but we saw their white flags waving long before the catapults were released. Garreth sent us some message of strategic importance, telling us to rally on this shore and find our home here in Nacosst. He helped us enlist the aid of the locals here before he and Ilsa ventured out towards another city,” Behn told them, snapping his fingers to recollect the memory.

  “Erawal. It was Erawal,” Eyrn spoke.

  “Fie! We just came from there,” Novas said with a groan.

  “He left this morning. Said he had a clue to where Berault’s attacker had left,” Behn explained.

  “The killer is indeed in Erawal. We ran into him ourselves, but he escaped before we could finish him,” Kayten stated, staring hard at the map-strewn desk.

  “We have to go back for Garreth. The presence of the Vandari is heavy in that area, and we should help him out,” Novas told them.

  “But you just came from there, Novas. And with good reason, I’m sure?” Eyrn explained.

  “That’s right, Novas. It was becoming unsafe there for us. Malic could have brought the Vandari to our door in minutes if he found us again,” Kayten stated.

  “Garreth would return here if it’s too unsafe just like you did. I think you should bunker down and wait for him here. It’s probably for the best,” Eyrn suggested.

  “I’m afraid I have to agree with him, Novas. Besides, there are a couple locals who are looking to be trained in archery and could definitely use your help. That would help all of us,” Behn told him.

  Novas sighed and hung his head, and Kayten shook him by the shoulder.

  “That’s fine, I will wait for now, but if he doesn’t return before long…” Novas spoke.

  Chapter Ten

  The force of the explosion threw Ilsa and Garreth fast and far enough away to be spared from the dust’s vicious scalding, but it did not prevent them from being knocked nearly unconscious, leaving them bruised and cut after slamming into another wagon. Ilsa could feel her lungs beat and flatten inside of her as she coughed, and she pulled herself from the ground and sat against the wagon wheel, trying to focus through the daze. Garreth could not feel the pattering of her hands upon his side, urging him to wake up and escape.

  “Garreth, Garreth. We have to go now, Garreth!” Ilsa mumbled and then began to yell.

  The explosion had caught a nearby wagon on fire. If its bloodfire dust contents were lit, it would be doom for the two nearly incapacitated wanderers. Garreth’s head kicked up, and he came to but was still disorientated. He got to his knees and his feet, feeling at the wagon and steadying himself, and Ilsa took her arm around him.

  “Okay, okay. I’m here. Time to go,” Garreth slurred, falling in and out of consciousness.

  Near them, Ilsa could hear the terse shouts of Vandarian tongue, and their echoes soon made their way towards them. By the time that they had broken the border of the camp, Garreth was moving along unaided, and the two made their way up the hill. However, their escape was not flawless, for they had guards chasing after them with swords drawn.

  “Behind us,” Ilsa told Garreth as the Vandari kicked up sand paces behind them.

  Garreth took up his bow and paced backwards up the dune, beginning to take aim. One-by-one, the Vandari dashed out of the camp. One, two, three, four, five, six of them left their corpses on the ground, pointing to the direction of the infiltrator’s escape. As soon as Garreth and Ilsa broke the borders of the blood forest, they stopped under the shady ruins and supped at their canteen.

  “That wa
s Deepshine all over again,” Garreth mumbled, “the bloodied ground here matches the crimson water and sand. It was the Vandari after all,”

  “I do not know how the people of Erawal could stand such a place. If it is true the ill-effects of the Order’s endeavour have reached this wood then I can only hope that one that it does not climb this hill and take the rest of the town with it,” Garreth stated, pulling up dead weeds streaked with bloodfire before tossing them about.

  “I hope that too, love, but we must be careful. We cannot be overzealous so far from our friends. We have a job to do, suited for us, first and foremost,” Ilsa explained.

  “Yes, you are right. As much as this burns me, the assassin comes first. We had quite the look about down there and did not see him at all. Let us take up our search in the city again,” Garreth replied and rose from his feet.

  They made their way into the living forest again and were able to breathe easy without suffering the thoughts of bloodying their lungs. The sun was setting when they made their way back to Erawal. They broke the borders of its palm wood and stopped to refill their canteens at the glistening pond of orange and red sunset. They were glad to see that the horse they had hitched still remained, and they spent some time refilling its water trough before heading back inside the city. Garreth and Ilsa walked around the streets surrounding the market, looking for a place of shelter.

  “Do you see anywhere we can stay for the night? Any lettering that you can recognize?” Garreth asked Ilsa as she peered about, trying to recall her brief lessons with Ayden earlier that day.